Spike was preening himself in front of the mirror. He turned about from side to side, checking his rear end, patting his stomach and extending his white wings. Leaning closer into the mirror before him, he licked his hand and smoothed down a stray strand of hair with it. Then he fished around in his front drawer to find some clippers. Perhaps the wings were getting a little matted and mangy – did wings get mangy? Did he smell like goose down?

“What are you doing?”

Spike jumped a near mile, clippers in hand, and spun to see his best friend standing there, smirking at him.

“Nothin,” Spike bristled and set his wings firmly against his back, covertly dropping the clippers in the open drawer behind him.

“Looks like somethin’,” Angel quipped, grinning, leaning his broad, tall frame in Spike’s doorway.

“Well, it’s nothin’,” Spike retorted, gazing at his friend thoughtfully. Scratching an imaginary goatee, Spike pondered changing his blond locks to brown like Angels. Maybe it’d give him an extra something that he was most obviously lacking.

“Why are you staring at me?” Angel asked, uncomfortably, standing tall and looking ready to bolt. Then his eyes narrowed. “This isn’t one of those times where you try to scare me into thinking I have something on my face when I really don’t is it?”

“No, you bloody git,” Spike grumbled. “What do you think of the hair?” he asked, touching his hand to his hair and grumbling when he felt that stray piece sticking up again.

“Yours?”

“Yeah, mine.”

Angel shrugged. “It’s blond, it’s short, it’s. . . hair.” He furrowed his brow and frowned. “What are you going for here Spike?”

“You’re an oaf, you know that?”

“I’m not a girl Spike. I’m not going to dissect your appearance. Next you’re gonna want to paint each other’s nails and take a bubble bath together—“

“Just for the record, that would never happen.”

“--What are you on about anyway?”

Spike sighed and sat on his bed. “It’s just . . . been a while.”

“Oh. I get it now.” Angel nodded, smirking. “Going through a dry spell and you think you’ve lost the ‘touch’.”

“More than lost the touch mate. I’ve just plum . . . lost . . . the touch,” he shook his head, groaning and flopping back on the bed, spreading his wings about him.
“It’s like I never had it I lost it so much.”

Angel chuckled.

Spike shot up and glared at him. “What’s so bleeding funny?”

“Just funny to hear Eros’ nephew fears he’s ‘lost the touch.’ And you kind of look like a snow angel right about now. You know the ones we’ve seen mortals make?”

“Just because the God of Love happens to by my uncle doesn’t mean anything. And stop looking at my wings and focus on my problem for a minute please.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Except that you work for him. You set up the candidates and shoot the arrows for him.”

“No, I don’t set them up. That’s the part I don’t do. I just make sure they’re within shooting range so the arrow goes to the right person,” Spike muttered.

“I thought you were being trained?” Angel asked, confused.

“He’s been putting it off and putting it off,” Spike waved his hand dismissively, sitting up. “Something about me needing to ‘settle down’ and ‘concentrate’. Whatever the hell that means,” he ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.

“Could it be that you can’t sit still for more than five minutes?”

“I’m bleeding sittin here right now!” Spike jumped up. Angel laughed and Spike narrowed his eyes at him.

“And that you have no patience,” Angel pointed out.

“I’m a failure to my father,” Spike murmured. “He sets them up and gets to shoot. I just . . . shoot.”

“It takes time and patience to be able to set up matches, Spike. You have to make sure that when you’re making a match, it’s based on compatibility, friendship and passion. It’s not cut and dry. You’ve seen human relationships; they’re complex! All that talking, the emotions, the compromise . . . they’re hard work. It’s easy for them to fall in love; it’s not always easy for them to stay in love.”

“Right. Which is where the merry band of Eros shooters come in: To find their true love. The one they’ll settle with for eternity.”

“Exactly. Otherwise all those mortals would be stumbling around making bad matches everywhere and crying their little human hearts out.”

“I’m ready, I know I can do it!”

“What about the dry spell you’re on? You can’t even match yourself up.”

“Are you trying to help? I’m drowning here and you’re describing the water!” Spike exclaimed, frustrated.

Angel chuckled. “What happened to . . . what was her name?”

“Medea?”

“Yeah, Medea. She was a looker.”

“She’s involved with some guy named Jason. I never had a chance. Besides, she’s got this jealous streak in her that’s just bordering on psychotic.”

“You were dating one of Hera’s nieces weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but do I really want to face the wrath of Hera once it blows up in my face? No.”

Angel sighed and sat down on Spike’s bed. “So, is it with you or them that the problem lays?”

Spike looked at his friend. “I think it might be them. I keep thinking the right one will come around . . . I keep thinking it’s me . . . but it’s not. You know what I think I need? A mortal. It worked for my uncle, it worked for my mother. Why couldn’t it work for me?”

Angel’s eyes widened. “Are you thinking of asking if you can travel to Earth?”

Spike shrugged, “Maybe. Zeus did it all the bloody time. Why do you think Hera’s such a bitch?”

“Used to. Past tense. Mortals today aren’t as accepting of us anymore. Well, aside from the pagans . . . but they’ve also never actually seen us in the flesh.”

“I don’t know Angel,” Spike said with a sigh. “I’m not saying that I will do it, it’s just an idea I’m entertaining. Not like I’d be allowed to go anyway and make myself known,” Spike explained on a sigh.

“Ever think of asking?”

“Didn’t honestly put a lot of thought into it until now.”

“Well, your uncle sent me to get you, so maybe you can ask him yourself.”

Spike’s eyes widened. “Bleeding hell Angel! You’ve made me keep him waiting.”

Angel grinned. “Just trying to help you out a bit there buddy.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “That’s what I get for making Iris’ nephew my best friend.”

Angel patted his friend on the back. “Can’t help it. She’s got temperance down to an art form. We support each other, you and I. We’ve got big footsteps to follow.”

“Don’t I know it,” Spike muttered and followed Angel out the door to meet Uncle Eros, God of Love.

********


Starting to close his wings, Spike glided to a stop on the steps of Eros’ enormous marble castle –literally a castle in the sky—and took a deep breath as he looked over at Angel who was settling himself on the steps.

“I’ll wait for you here,” Angel told his friend.

Spike nodded and flew up the last few steps to the gigantic double doors. They opened as if they knew he was there, which they probably did.

It never failed to take his breath away when he entered his aunt and uncles home. It was a vast place and yet somehow incredibly homey. He could see his Aunt Psyche’s touch, and he knew that Uncle Eros didn’t disapprove of the place. The colors ranged from the lightest pink to the deepest red and portraits adorned the walls—portraits of family, friends, a ton of Aphrodite, which Spike knew Aphrodite probably put there herself. A grand piano sat in the front room, front and center, where his uncle loved to entertain. Dark wood floors with rich mahogany colors bled throughout the room-- from the chaise lounge to the velvet sofa and chairs—all serving to make the room a comfortable and sensual place to entertain and be entertained.

He remembered the last party they’d had, the room had been filled with guests and Bacchus had had the wine flowing to no end. Spike had gotten quite spirited and had started picking a fight with the ponce Narcissus. He had tried to reason with Echo that her man was just out for himself, but she hadn’t listened to him. All she could do was follow Narcissus around and repeat everything he said as if he were chock full of wisdom. That had been the beginning of Spike’s spiral into discontent with the women of Olympus.

Passing by the room and down the long hall to his uncle’s study, Spike took a deep breath and braced himself. Not that he was afraid of his uncle, quite the contrary. However, he feared his uncle would stop his employment if he knew just how discontent he’d been of late.

Eros was poring over papers at his long oak desk when Spike entered. His handsome uncle looked up and smiled his thousand watt smile at him. “Hello Spike. How are you, my boy?” The sun shone off his golden hair and Spike frowned inwardly, thinking he’d never had been able to color his hair that same shade. Everyone would think he was just copying his uncle and the ‘ethereal’ look wasn’t that ‘in’ anymore.

“Good uncle. Great. Perfect. You?”

Eros’ face crossed with something Spike couldn’t quite define—disappointment? Uncertainty? Both? – Before he gestured for Spike to have a seat.

Settling down on the overstuffed, pink satin chair with the clawed feet, Spike sat ramrod straight, waiting to hear what his uncle had to say.

“Spike, for some time now you’ve been after me to train you in matchmaking,” Eros began, leaning against the desk with his hip, his blue eyes intent on Spike. Spike hated when his uncle stared at him in such a manner. It was like he was looking into his soul-- into his very mind-- and it unnerved him.

Spike nodded, averting his gaze from Uncle Eros and shifting to the gigantic crystal ball in the middle of the room. He was going for unassuming.

“I’ve decided to honor your request.”

Spike’s head snapped back to his uncle, his wings fluttering in excitement, “Really? When?”

“Soon. Today if you want,” Eros grinned, seeming pleased by Spike’s enthusiasm. “I’ve been talking it over with your parents and Aunt and she agrees with me that this is the best thing for you. Your mom of course has her reservations--”

“What’s the best thing for me?” He had the distinct feeling that his uncle was talking about more than just simple field work here.

“Do you remember me telling you about a mortal woman by the name of Elizabeth Summers in Sunnydale, California?”

Spike nodded slowly, wondering where in Hades this was going.

“As you know at the last staff meeting, she’s been a great asset to our business with her own matchmaking. Her success is astounding. So many happy marriages with soul mates having found each other without our aid. It’s amazing that such a mortal could have such a gift.” Eros paused and then frowned, “However, as of late, her work hasn’t been top notch. She’s had a few set backs. It started with a divorce or two and now it seems she’s just going through the motions and seems to have lost her touch.”

Spike tried not to react to the very same words he’d uttered to Angel not too long ago. I know what that feels like, poor girl, he thought.

“That’s where you come in, my boy. I want you to help her. Help her find her spark again, find her touch, and bring her back into the game of making those correct matches again. I’m hoping with her influence on the love front, more will arise just like her so that we’ll have chains of ‘Soul Matched’ everywhere, helping us out.”

“With all due respect Uncle Eros, but how can I, who has never been able to match before, help someone who’s lost her touch with it? What could she possibly learn from me?” Spike wasn’t feeling too sure about this.

His uncle broke out into a wide smile, his white teeth sparkling. “I think you’ll find you know more than you think Spike. What do you say? Will you do it? It’s the perfect opportunity for you, it really is. I trust you; I put my faith in you that you can help Miss Summers.”

“I’m still unsure as to how I can –“

“Will you do it?” Eros asked, cutting him off.

Spike stopped and sighed, raking a hand through his hair. If there was one thing he didn’t want to do, it was disappoint his uncle. He looked up to the man, always had. He only wanted to follow in his footsteps and hopefully have the same kind of patience he did. Not to mention having the greatest love possible. He looked to Uncle Eros and Aunt Psyche as the epitomes of inspiration and hope. If they could achieve it, then he was sure he could too. Plus, he had an advantage that his aunt and uncle didn’t have—the meddling ways of Aphrodite. The Goddess had tamed quite a bit since her “secret affair” with Ares. Which was ironic in a way really. What he didn’t understand was why his uncle was being so vague and just “trusting his abilities”. He didn’t trust his abilities. Perhaps that was the whole point though.

Taking a deep breath, Spike nodded. “When do I leave?”

Eros hugged him quickly. “Good choice. You leave tonight.”

“So, Miss Summers here I come,” and Spike smiled weakly.

“Cordy, I don’t understand. How can you just pick up and leave like this?” Buffy asked as she tailed behind her friend.

“It’s easy. I pick my things up, pack them, and leave.”

“But it’s across country! With a guy you barely know! Cordy, the vagabond lifestyle is not for you!”

“Not true,” Cordy said, jutting out her bottom lip in defiance, “I’ve always wanted to travel.”

“Yeah, to London and Paris. Detroit is a far cry from that,” Buffy retorted, trying to stop her friend from packing up by taking things out of the box Cordy was placing them in.

Cordy stopped and glared at her, clearly annoyed. She flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and fixed her penetrating milk chocolate eyes on Buffy, arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. This would normally send Buffy running for cover, but under the circumstances, and perhaps partly in defeat, Buffy puffed out her chest and stood tall.

Snatching the framed picture of Brandon Routh that she had on her reception desk from Buffy’s hands,she placed it back into the box, all the while keeping a fixed eye on Buffy. She then proceeded to put the items Buffy had taken out, back into the box.

Buffy slumped in her seat in defeat. “What about your apartment?”

“I found someone to sublet it.”

“How did you find someone on such short—“ Buffy jumped up, “Cordelia Chase! You knew about this for some time now haven’t you?”

Something passed over Cordelia’s face that Buffy had never seen before: Guilt.

“I’ve known for a month,” Cordy explained. “Which really isn’t all that much time at all. I had lots to do, and plans to make. I had to find a home for my car until I came back, put my stuff in storage . . . “

“And it never occurred to you to, oh, I don’t know, tell me you were going? I mean, I’m only your boss and your friend—“

“Buffy,” Cordy stopped and turned to her. “Sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do. I can’t help it. B.J. wants to go, he has to go. I love him, so I have to go with him.”

“As usual, it’s all about you, isn’t it Cordy?” Buffy said bitterly, walking away from her. “And who the hell dates someone with the initials for blow job?”

“Yes, it is. It’s all about me. Can I give you some advice Buffy?”

Buffy stopped on her way to consulting room and turned to her once friend. “What?”

“Take care of yourself. Maybe if you took the time to make yourself happy once in a while you wouldn’t feel so washed up and bitter.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped and her eyes stung with tears at Cordelia’s strong words, not to mention the harshness in her voice.

Cordelia pushed past her and pushed the swinging door to the entrance open with her hip. “I’m sorry if that was harsh, Buffy, but it’s true and you know it. If you got out once in a while, dated, and actually tried to care about your appearance and didn’t waste your time on those wounded birds you seem to pick up, you’d find this place back to the success you once had it at. If you don’t start at least trying to take care of yourself, you’re going to die an old maid.” Without further ado, she swept out the door.

Buffy rushed to the door and opening it, yelled after her. “I hope the tour bus breaks down! I hope he gets booed off the stage and he gets tired of you!”

Cordy’s tires screeched out the parking lot and Buffy watched her go. The girl didn’t deserve her tears. Not after the horrible things she'd said.

Looking down at herself in her faded jeans and two-sizes-too-big sweatshirt, Buffy realized that Cordy’s words probably stung so much because they were all true.

********

Spike was exhausted. After he’d agreed to take his uncles task, he’d been rushed out of Olympus. It was as if they couldn’t wait to get rid of him. It struck suspicion in Spike and made him wonder if Angel hadn’t been flapping his gums about him feeling discontent. Then came the blow that he’d be de-winged on Earth. Spike balked at that. How did they expect him to get around? Eros had merely chuckled and said there were all sorts of transportation on Earth and he’d fare just fine.

His mother had been tearful and worried, and his father had congratulated him and directed him
to “make him proud.” As if there wasn’t enough pressure on him already.

After much goodbyes and hugs, Spike had been sent on his merry way. Or, like an angel clipped of his wings, he’d hurled to Earth and landed unceremoniously in his new digs. Unscathed of course, unless you count the thud in which he’d landed on his rump. He had been cursing the delivery and rubbing his rump when he’d taken in his apartment.

He had to smile; his uncle knew what he liked. Large amounts of space, hard wood floors as rich as Eros’ front room, deep rich earth tones and overstuffed sofas and chairs, not to mention a spacious bed with silk, blood red sheets and black and red frumpy pillows stuffed with feathers. Just off his bedroom, furnished with a mahogany Amour and oak desk with gold leaf trim, was a balcony overlooking the ocean. Spike smiled as he stepped onto it and breathed in the fresh sea air. He sent a silent thank you to his uncle and decided to freshen up a bit before meeting his mission: Elizabeth Summers.

********

“Soul Matched” was attached to a video store. The outside was pretty simple and did not at all match the posh atmosphere that was inside. Upon entering, Spike felt as if he were entering one of those clubs he’d witnessed in Eros’ crystal balls when he was finding matches. It wasn’t dark, but wasn’t bright either. The lights hung low and were in the shape of stars. The walls weren’t all one color; they shifted from deep burgundy to deep ginger. There was a satin sofa and love seat in the corner with Japanese designs on them, the background of them being red, the designs black. A glass coffee table sat in the center with a cream colored shag rug under it. Directly off to the left, right past the love seat was a room with a small desk complete with a desk, some framed pictures, and a few plants. Across the main room was a room shrouded with pink and blue scarves and beads hanging from the door way. In the center was a long desk with a computer and against the wall was a bookcase filled to the brim.

He felt at home there, that was the first thing that hit Spike as he took in his surroundings. His eyes settled on the form that hunched over the desk, poring over
papers. It had to be Elizabeth Summers. Her long, wavy blond hair was creating a curtain on either side of her face.

Just then she looked up and Spike’s breath caught. Great Merciful Zeus she was breathtakingly, heartbreakingly gorgeous. Her amazing green eyes peered up at him curiously, and the pink in her cheeks darkened. Her nose was slightly crooked at the end
and for some reason it made his heart melt. She swept her long hair over her shoulder and proceeded to tie it back in some elastic that appeared out of nowhere.

“Hi. Do you have an appointment?” she asked.

He shook his head, finding speech had left him.

“Would you like to make one?”

He shook his head again, mesmerized. He noticed then her eyes were slightly puffy. She’d been crying? Who had made this beautiful creature cry and why?

“Then what can I help you with?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“I’d like to work here,” he stated, finally finding his
voice.

She looked taken back for a second and then recovered. She stood and Spike drank in her form completely. So petite, was she. The jeans and oversized sweatshirt did nothing but hide what was sure to be a delectable body. Spike was itching to find out, to peel away the layers and find the core of Elizabeth Summers.

“You want to work here?” she chirped, looking
confused. Her forehead crinkled in the most adorable way...

He nodded, clearing his throat.

“I haven’t even had the help wanted sign up for more than an hour.”

He hadn’t seen the sign. Thank the Gods in Olympus there’d been a sign.

She crossed her arms and studied him. “Why do you want to work here?”

“I specialize in matchmaking.”

“Is this a joke?”

“No,” he said defensively. “Why would I joke about something like that?”

“Because you’re a guy,” she said matter-of-factly.

He took offense to that for not only himself but for his uncle and father and for every other Eros helper out there. “A guy can’t want to help people find their match?”

“Are you gay?”

“I’m not bloody gay!” Spike nearly roared with frustration. “Can I have the job or not?”

“I don’t know you! How can I give you the job when I don’t even know your name?” She demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

“Spike,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Spike? Is that a nickname or the name you were given as a child?”

He pursed his lips together.

“I need your real name.”

His eyes darted to the bookcase. “William,” he told her.

“Last name?” her eyebrow raised and her foot was tapping.

He opted to use his father’s last name (and technically his) for this. “Giles.”

“William Giles. Why Spike?”

“Long story.”

She shrugged. “Whatever.”

“You’re not exactly ‘welcoming’ there, pet. Especially since I’m here to help you out.”

“I’ve had a rough morning,” she muttered, going through the papers on the desk. “I can never find anything she has in here.”

“Am I hired or not?”

“Don’t you want to know what the job consists of?”

“It’s pretty self explanatory innit?”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s not all that easy.”

“I’m a quick learner.”

“You’re not actually setting anyone up, you realize.”

“Why not?” he asked, defensive once again.

“Because that’s my job.”

“Rumor has it you’ve been sliding on the job. Seems to me a new set of eyes is what you need.”

She glared at him. “Not all about the eyes, smart ass.”

“I hit a nerve huh?” he smirked, placed his hands on the desk and leaned in toward her. Lavender. She was scented with Lavender. Reminded him of home.

“What’s your background if you know so much?” she challenged.

“Oh, cutie. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“I do worry about that.”

“Hire me and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

She wasn’t sure why she said, “Fine, you’re hired.” She tried to tell herself it had everything to do with the fact that she was desperate and nothing to do with the fact that William Giles, the man who called himself Spike of all things, was incredibly gorgeous. God-like gorgeous. He was also arrogant and temperamental. Not that she was much better on the temper front. Now, he was smiling like the cat that got the canary and she had the urge to take it back. However that would mean not learning anything about him and something about him most definitely intrigued her. Like, why he chose her business to apply for work for one, and where he came from, and that stupid nickname.

“So, what would you like to know kitten?” he asked, tucking his tongue behind his front teeth in a gesture that Buffy found both sexy and infuriating.

“Got a license?” she asked, holding out her hand.

His grin faded. “No.”

Weird. Even the losers she’d dated that didn’t have a car had a license. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “Cause I don’t.”

“Are you an illegal alien?” she narrowed her eyes.

“I’m not an alien!” he sounded horrendously insulted.

“Then why—never mind. Do you have any forms of identification?”

“For what?”

“So I can pay you?” she couldn’t help but retort condescendingly.

“I’ll have what you need by the end of the week,” he grumbled.

“Do you drive at all?”

He grinned rakishly, “Depends on your meanin’.”

“You’re a pig. If you’re here to match yourself then you can waltz yourself right out that door.” She pointed to the exit/entrance for emphasis.

“I’m not here for that. I’m here to help you.”

“Fine then, let me show you around.” She strolled to the back of the room, into the consulting room and pushed aside the scarves and beads that made the door. Inside was a bar and a small table with two chairs in the middle of the room, and against the wall was a couch, a recliner, and a bookcase.

“What is this all about?” Spike asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I find it helps to create a date like atmosphere. The couch and recliner with the books for those who are more comfortable in a café slash bookstore type of setting, and the table and chairs and bar for those that prefer clubs and that sort of thing. I find when you bring someone closer to the element they’re more comfortable in in the dating world, they get into that mindset and it helps me peg them and their mate,” Buffy explained. “We don’t serve alcohol. It’s all non-alcoholic and nothing fancy. I only do appointments, so I’ll find out what they prefer before coming in and make it. There is also coffee and a cappuccino machine behind the bar.”

She was pleased to note the impressed expression on his face. “Your job will be to help me prepare for a client. Help me ‘set the mood’ so to speak. Also, your job is to set up appointments for me.”

“So I’m a glorified receptionist now,” he said dryly.

She put her hands on her hips. “You can’t just expect to jump in and start matching people.”

“Why not? I bet I’d be good at it.”

“Have you ever done it?”

“Well, no.”

“Then how do you know?”

“I’ve got connections,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Connections to people who make matches aren’t going to help you make the correct matches.”

“What’s your secret then? How do you do it?”

Buffy took a deep breath. “I talk to them; I ask them questions about themselves, like an interview. Or, like a date without, you know, coming onto them. I get a feel for the kind of person they are, what they like, what they don’t like, what makes them the most comfortable, what turns them off. I get a feel for their personality and then have them set up a profile that you will later put in the computer. The computer spits out some matches for that person and then I personally go over the list and choose the one that I think will make the best match. If they choose the one I picked for them, I pay for the date. If they choose not to, I set up the date, but do not pay for it. The bill is forwarded to them at their residence so no one is the wiser as to if they were ‘The One’ I chose.”

“Smart,” he said appreciatively.

“And sometimes there are cases in which the computer spits out matches, but I don’t feel that any of them are ‘The One’. So, I go back into the archives and choose the one I feel is correct.”

“And that’s been failing you lately?”

“You seem awfully keen on insulting me. And how do you even know I’ve been ‘failing’ huh? Are you seeking revenge for a friend or something? What’s your deal?”

He smiled cordially. “I just want to help.”

“Then maybe you can stop with the judgment,” and she started for the ‘door’.

“I’m not judging you, Elizabeth—“ he said, almost apologetically as he followed her.

“Buffy,” she corrected him, turning to face him.

“Excuse me?”

“Everyone calls me Buffy.”

His lips twitched. “Cute.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly.

“Look, I’m sorry if it seems like I’m judging you. I just heard a lot of good things about this place and your abilities. I’ve also heard that you’ve hit a rough spot.”

“I’m sure I’ll be back on track in no time,” she told him, straightening. Her tone lacked certainty. In fact it sounded more like a question.

“Burnt out?” he suggested?

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking the questions considering I’m your employer and I still don’t know anything about you?” she asked, tapping her foot and crossing her arms across her chest in a thoroughly defensive manner.

He held out his arms. “I’ve given you free reign to ask me anything, kitten.”

“I’m not a ‘kitten’.”

He leaned closer, smirking. “How bout tigress?”

She took a step back. “No,” she said shaking her head.

“Lioness?”

“N—Actually, I like that,” she said wagging a finger.

He knew she’d like that. His little lioness, all feisty and fiery, not to mention deadly, he was sure. Just not sure if that’s deadly in a good way or a bad way . . . Is there a good way to be deadly? Images of Buffy in a red teddy-- or maybe pink, halfway between innocent and not-so-innocent-- sprang to mind and, Yeah, she could be deadly.

“You have a boyfriend, my little lioness?” Gods help him, he couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his face.

“Okay, but I’m not your lioness.”

“I chose the name, I get to call you it, with possession attached.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, “You’re exhausting. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That any girl that gets involved with you must be worn out from having to deal with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, they get worn out all right. Most deliciously,” and he waggled his eyebrows.

She walked away, quite suddenly and without warning.

“You never answered me. You have a boyfriend?”

“What business is it of yours?” she snapped.

“Just wondering how a beautiful woman such as yourself can run a place like this and do what you do without getting hit on left and right.”

“Well, you’d be surprised how much I don’t get hit on,” she muttered, plunking herself back down behind the desk, leaning forward in the chair and putting her elbow on the desk. She rested her chin in her open palm and regarded him wearily.

He squatted down in front of her and they eyed each other. “What happened this morning? You mentioned you had a rough morning.”

“It’s nothing William,” she sighed.

“Please call me Spike.”

“Spike. Where did you get that nickname?”

He grinned. “I was destined for greatness.”

She was clearly confused. “How do you mean? What does that have to do with your nickname?”

“In time, my lioness.”

Buffy watched Spike warily as he moved around “Soul Matched”, checking things out. He had an insatiable curiosity about everything and after the morning she’d had with Cordelia, coupled with Spike’s questions about her business and how it was failing, Buffy wanted nothing more than to go home and hide under the covers for the day. Or a week. She was almost tempted to do it, too. Almost tempted to tell him since he seemed so keen on setting up clients and since he thought he could do better. She could just let him have at it and see how long it took before he sought her counsel. She frowned. What if he didn’t though? What if he did have success? What if she was forced out of her own business?

“You’re thinking hard,” Spike observed standing in front of her at the reception desk. He tilted his head to the side. “And you look tired. Why don’t you make some coffee or take a few minutes on the couch.”

She blinked at him. “Are you suggesting I take a nap?”

“Yeah, why not? You don’t have an appointment until three. That’s forty-five minutes from now. Take some time.”

“No,” she said flatly.

“Trying to help Buffy,” he told her gently.

“I’m going to set up,” she mumbled. He followed her.

“Tell me your story,” he urged.

“My story?” she asked as she started the coffee and placed a Jazz CD in the stereo system.

“Everyone’s got a story.”

“I was born, I grew up, and here I am. That’s my story.”

“Don’t be so prissy and closed off,” he said, hopping up on the counter and swaying his feet. “Tell me about your morning at least.”

“Cordy left,” Buffy mumbled, placing out mugs.

“She was the former receptionist,” Spike stated.

“Right. And I thought she was my friend.”

“You thought she was—she’s not then?”

“Apparently not. Seems I ‘latched’ on mistakenly. Why am I telling you this?” she asked, turning to him.

“Because you need to get it out. It’s not good to hold things like you do, luv.”

“You’ve known me three hours and you’ve already psychoanalyzed me? Great. This should be fun,” and she rolled her eyes. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re still, oh, I don’t know, a stranger so why should I open up to you?”

“You’re closed off,” he continued on as if he hadn’t heard her. “Defensive. Doesn’t take a crystal ball—magic—no,” he shook his head, “Doesn’t take a, uh… psychology degree to figure that out.”

“What was all that?”

He had the gall to look innocent. “What?”

She shook her head. “Never mind.” God, he was exhausting.

“So, why were you mistaken in thinking this Cordelia was your friend?”

“She pretty much let me know I wasn’t when she packed up and left without any warning. She’d known for a month she’d be leaving and never bothered to tell me. Yeah, that kind of tipped me off,” Buffy said matter-of-factly. Though she felt anything but matter of fact about it. In fact, she was still stinging and her words, combined with Spike’s, were still ringing in her ears and running over and over in her mind. So now in addition to “washed up” and “bitter”, she could also add “closed off” and “defensive”. When the hell had this happened to her? And why was today the day that everyone felt the need to tell her what exactly was wrong with her? It more than just a little annoying.

“You’re thinking again,” Spike said and pointed at her. “Where did she go?”

Buffy sighed heavily. “She took off her with her rocker musician boyfriend. This is the same girl that hates going to shows because it’s always ‘seedy’ and her shoes stick to the floor and she hates beer . . . But somehow she’s decided to traipse off touring with B.J.” She shook her head and rubbed her forehead. “I don’t get it, I mean…his name alone…”

“She’s in love,” Spike said, shrugging.

“Love? No. Lust is more like that.” Buffy said, her head snapping up.

“How do you know?”

“Because she barely knows him!”

“Sometimes a moment is all it takes,” Spike said wistfully, staring at her with an odd expression on his face.

She turned away. “Yeah, well . . . “

He jumped down. “You should know about those quick moments working here. It’s what you specialize in isn’t it? Making the connection, hopefully the right connection, with the right person. If you didn’t believe in it, then you wouldn’t pay for the date you chose for them. Unless of course you don’t believe in any of it. Then that just makes you a fraud. So, what is it Buffy?”

Her jaw dropped. She was actually too stunned to be angry at the moment. “What’s what?”

“What are you? A fraud or a believer?”

“Both,” she said, sticking her chin up in a haughty motion.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

“Humor me.”

“You seem to have all the answers, why don’t you tell me?”

“I’d rather hear it from you. I think it might help,” he said simply.

“Help what?” she asked almost incredulously.

“Help you get out the turmoil you have. You’re practically covered in it. It might help you clear out all that plagues you.”

“So what? I’ll be back on track and as big of a success as I used to be?” she said sarcastically.

“Exactly,” he nodded.

“Very idealistic. What is this? A therapy session? A movie in which the hero knows all the ways to make the heroine well and all she needs to do is open up and take the first step to heal and then a whole world will open up to her that she never knew existed?”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Yeah, that’s crap.”

“Try it.”

“How about you don’t tell me what to do?” she said stubbornly and walked away from him. Why was she even still talking to him? Why didn’t she just fire him already for insubordination—though he wasn’t really being insubordinate, he was just being a colossal pain in the ass.

“Maybe you like to cling to those walls you’ve erected around yourself. Maybe you’re afraid to shake them for fear they’ll crumble.”

She whipped her head to him. “Why are you still talking and why would I be afraid of that?”

“Because they make you feel safe.”

“What is with you? Why am I such an interest for you? You don’t even know me!”

“And you don’t make that any easier to try and get to know you.”

“I just met you, jackass. I don’t go disclosing my secrets to someone I just freaking met!”

“I’m intrigued Buffy,” he told her earnestly. “I see a defiant, self-sufficient, brilliant woman before me that should feel as if the world is her oyster and yet she’s bitter and angry and doesn’t seem to believe in the very things she’s made a career out of. I see you just…going through the motions.”

“How do you know I’m just going through the motions? You just met me All right, look, I do believe okay? I do,” she said, exasperated, throwing up her arms.

“I sense a ‘but’,” he said patiently.

Buffy heaved a deep breath. “I believe in it for others, but not for me.” Again she had to wonder why she was still talking to him. Perhaps curiosity. A part of her wanted to see what else he would uncover and yet she was terrified of it as well.

He stared at her. “You believe in true love for everyone else, but not for yourself?”

“Right. I believe that the universe somehow gypped me. It gave me the talent to set others up, but it came with a catch,” Buffy told him bitterly.

“That you have to be alone?” He seemed shocked.

“Yes. Everyone leaves me. Everyone has someone. And when I do find someone, it’s some bottom feeder that sucks the life out of me.”

“Don’t pick bottom feeders,” Spike said on a shrug sounding as if he’d just solved world hunger.

“Gee, I never would have figured that out on my own had you not told me. I feel the heavens have opened up and I think I hear angels singing now!” She let out a frustrated sigh off his warning look. “I have tragic taste in men, what can I say? I can pick for everyone else in the world—though not as of late—but I can’t pick for me.”

Spike nodded. “It’s the same in other professions I’m sure Buffy.”

“You mean like the mechanic who can’t fix his own car? The plumber with a leak?”

“Right,” he nodded.

“Except a broken car and a leak doesn’t hurt and make you feel lonely. You can always go out and buy a new car or fix a pipe. It gets a little trickier when it’s a person you’re looking for,” Buffy said, her eyes starting to well up.

Spike moved to take her in his arms and Buffy pushed him away. “You got what you wanted. I don’t want your pity now!” she yelled at him and stomped off. She hated William ‘Spike’ Giles for making her tell him those things. She hated him for bringing out her inner demons. It was like he’d seen right to the core of her, and all under a few hours. She didn’t like that at all. She was just going to have to make sure the boundaries of employer/employee were firmly in place. No more talking about her feelings and fears. No more, no way, no how.

Spike saw the sadness on Buffy’s face before she’d stormed off and he felt tremendous guilt. He’d pushed her too far. He thought he was doing good-- thought that if she talked about it, it’d help. All he’d succeeded in doing was hurting her. It was too much, too fast.

She regarded him as he moved around the place with a set jaw and steel eyes. He was waiting patiently for her to blow, and when she did, he’d take it. He just wanted her to know that he’d be there in spite of it all. In just a short time on this little ‘project’, she’d managed to make him care quite a bit and not because of his mission, but because of her. He sensed tremendous pain from her and it irked him. A woman as beautiful, and as obviously intelligent as she was, deserved to have happiness. He bet she had a beautiful smile.

“We need to set a few boundaries here,” she said finally and stood.

He watched her intently. “Such as?”

“We are employee and employer. You digging into my psyche,” she wiggled her pointer finger around at him, “has nothing to do with that professional relationship.”

“I want to be your friend Buffy.”

“You just met me!” she cried.

“Haven’t you ever met someone and just wanted to get to know them? Have you ever met someone and just knew they’d be part of your life? That it felt as though you’d known them all your life and you could just tell them anything?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“See, you’ve succeeded in not only making me spill my guts to you, but you’ve also succeeded in turning me into a brat,” she said accusingly.

Spike smiled. “Something tells me you were probably already a brat before.”

She scrunched her eyebrows. “Thanks?”

“Buffy, I pushed you. For that, I apologize.”

She stared at him. “I’m glad we had this talk,” she said finally and nodded curtly.

“But I still want to be your friend and I still want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help William. I don’t need your pity.”

“You think that’s what I feel for you? Pity?”

“Isn’t it? Don’t you feel sorry for the girl that lost her faith in love and whose business is suffering?”

“Don’t you think the two go hand in hand?”

She shrugged. “It’s a possibility. It’s kind of like a vicious cycle. I don’t believe in love anymore, I become bitter, I make poor matches, people come to me unhappy and then I don’t believe in love anymore—you see where I’m going.”

“Except that you do believe in love for everyone but you.”

“I never said this was easy.”

“You’re cynical and pessimistic.”

“You’re psychoanalyzing me again. I told you not to do that!” she yelled at him.

“Except I work here now too so should I care about this business as much as you?” Spike countered.

“You know, you’re a real pain in my--”

“Uh, hello?”

Both heads swiveled to see a tiny red head with big hazel eyes and a tiny nose. She was dressed all Renaissance like and was more “cute” than beautiful, Spike decided. Buffy was beautiful. Spike spared a glance at said beautiful girl and wondered if Buffy knew she was beautiful. Maybe that was part of the problem. He would make sure he told her she was.

“Hi, you must be Willow?” Buffy asked, stepping forward and extending her hand. “I’m Buffy. Nice to meet you.” The girls shook hands. Buffy turned to Spike, “This is Spike. My uh, recep—“

“Assistant,” Spike supplied cutting her off. He didn’t dare look at her to catch the deadly glare that was surely shooting his way.

“I didn’t know you had an assistant,” Willow said. “I thought you did this alone.”

“I do,” Buffy told her quickly.

“Oh,” Willow looked at Buffy to Spike. “So does that mean that only you’ll be meeting with me?” she asked Buffy.

“No,” Spike interjected. “I will too.”

“Will you excuse us?” Buffy asked sweetly and grabbed Spike’s arm, leading him outside.

“What the hell are you doing? Do you know how much I want to rip your arm off right now and beat you with it?”

Spike smiled. The girl was a spitfire.

“Why the hell are you smiling?” Buffy demanded angrily.

“Because you’re just so cute.”

“You sniffed glue as a kid didn’t you?”

“How else am I supposed to learn the ways of the business if I don’t sit in with you and learn?”

“You really don’t hear anything I say do you? I just talk and you just don’t listen.”

“I hear you talking, I just don’t agree with what you have to say. I prefer to pick and choose.”

“Maybe you’d like to pick and choose your ass out of here,” Buffy said through clenched teeth.

Spike poked her nose and grinned. “I don’t think you’ll fire me kitten.”

“You wanna bet?” she challenged and crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him.

“You won’t because I’m all you’ve got right now.”

“Wouldn’t take that long to get a replacement.”

“With your attitude?”

“Are you trying to save your job right now or…?”

“You’d be hard pressed to find someone as dedicated as I am to this job and to helping you make an impact on the dating and marriage world again.”

“Yeah, and why exactly is that anyway?” she asked curiously, looking up at him suspiciously.

“I just am. Trust me.”

“I don’t trust many people.”

“Maybe this is your time to start.”

They stared at each other and Spike prayed that Buffy wouldn’t deny him, that she would see he was legit and not just trying to get under her skin, even if getting under skin was starting to prove so much fun. Her cheeks flushed when she was angry and her green eyes sparkled in defiance and fire. In short, she was simply breathtaking. Every bit the lioness he’d dubbed her.

“You can sit in there with us, but do not talk. Do you think you can handle just one direction?” she said exasperated, and now not looking him in the eye.

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded.

“I mean it William.”

“Spike.”

“I mean it.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“For?”

“Not firing me.”

She smiled a faux sweet smile. “Day’s not over yet.”

********

“So Willow, tell me a little bit about yourself,” Buffy started, extracting her notebook.

“Oh god, I don’t know where to start,” Willow said sheepishly, blushing.

“You’re shy,” Spike interjected.

Willow grinned. “Little bit, yes. Just weird being here.”

“Why?” Buffy asked.

“I guess it’s like admitting defeat in a way. I can’t find someone on my own, so I need help. Not that you don’t have a fine establishment here, I just meant that—“

Buffy reached across the table and placed a gentle hand on her arm. “It’s okay Willow. Many people come here as the last resort. If it wasn’t so hard ‘out there’ I wouldn’t have a business at all now would I?”

Willow smiled, “I guess not.”

“So you prefer the café, bookshop type atmosphere then,” Buffy noted. “Do you often go to meet someone or just go to find a book and grab a coffee?”

“Well, I feel more comfortable in this type of atmosphere even though I’ve never had much luck in meeting anyone unless you count the times I’ve gone to poetry readings the bookstores sometimes hold,” Willow explained and took a sip of her coffee.

“Do you share your poetry?” Spike asked and promptly felt Buffy kick him. He couldn’t help it. He was curious.

“Not really,” Willow replied softly.

“Why not?” both Buffy and Spike asked and glanced at each other oddly before Buffy leaned in. “Why not?”

“I guess I feel to . . . exposed.”

“So what you need is someone that will let you shine,” Spike summed up, rubbing his chin a thoughtful manner.

“I guess?” Willow said uncertainly.

“Willow, what would your ideal date be?” Buffy asked. “I’m not talking places or things to do. I’m talking about how you’d like to get to know someone.”

Willow smiled, “Lots of talking. The kind of talking where you never run out of things to say and it’s exciting because you keep finding things you have in common.” She stopped, getting this far away look in her eyes and then seemed to snap back to reality a second after. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I think that’s wonderful. You want to discover things about someone and share interests,” Buffy told her.

“Exactly,” Willow agreed.

“You like mysteries, don’t you?” Spike asked, grinning.

Willow nodded, “I do.”

“So perhaps someone that seems like a mystery, but is really an open book once you ‘open’ them?” Spike supplied.

“Yes! Gosh, you guys make a great team,” Willow gushed.

Spike grinned at Buffy, “Hear that sweetheart? We make a great team.”

Buffy just shot him a withering glare and Spike chuckled. “She’s my lioness,” Spike told Willow jovially.

Willow giggled, “Are you two--?” she asked.

“No,” Buffy told her adamantly. “How about you fill out this form,” she directed and handed Willow the questionnaire and a pen. “And we’ll be out there when you’re done,” and she pointed to the lobby.

“Sure thing,” Willow nodded definitively.

Following Buffy out of the room, he waited for her wrath. She turned to him as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I told you to be quiet,” she hissed.

“I know. I couldn’t help it.”

“I have to get used to you defying me don’t I?” she asked dryly with a hint of defeat.

“My lioness,” he smiled. “We make a great team. She said it herself.”

Buffy didn’t say anything to that. She merely shook her head and headed for her office, shutting the door behind her. Spike frowned. Now what?

Spike figured he’d give Buffy some time alone before bothering her. Well, he didn’t exactly look at it as “bothering” her. Course, it was that train of thought that had led him to pacing outside her door for the past fifteen minutes. Willow had filled out her questionnaire and Spike had inputted it all professional like. He’d pissed Buffy off more than once today and been insubordinate more times than he could count, so he figured he could at least follow one direction.

He blamed it on the fact that he’d never spent much time on Earth and with mortals. He never had much direct contact with them but knew from what he had been taught, that mortals were beings that needed help and often times didn’t ask for it. Pride, Uncle Eros had called it. Too much of it was a bad thing and such was the case of one Miss Buffy Summers.

He’d seen the pain in her eyes earlier when she spoke of not believing in love for herself. It’d pained him to see it. His aunt and uncle had always told him that there was a lid for every pot. Sometimes, they’d warned him, it was hard work and not all peaches and cream, but that working through those rough times made it all the more worth it in the long run. Spike had a feeling that Buffy had had her share of the hard work, and never reaped any of the benefits of that hard work. He wanted to know what had happened to make her so jaded and make it better. Most of all, he wanted to give her those benefits. She didn’t think he could make it better, but he knew with a little time and patience he could do it. He’d heard what his uncle and aunt had gone through with Aphrodite. If they could weather her, Spike could weather Buffy.

Then she was there, standing in the doorway, staring at him.

“Hi, pet,” he grinned at her, halting his pacing.

“So, has it been driving you crazy to wait?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Was that the plan?”

“To drive you crazy?”

“Yes.”

“Of course. You’ve been driving me crazy all day. Tit for Tat.”

He grinned. “How are you?”

“I’m tired. You?”

“Fine. Buffy, did you eat today at all?”

“What are you my mother now?”

“I think you need to eat.”

She waved him off and went back into her office. “I’m fine,” and she started to close the door.

Spike shimmied in the tiny crack in the door before the door shut, and ignored the heavy sigh of annoyance she let out.

He looked around her office. It was kind of bare. The only photo she had on her desk was one of an older couple he assumed were her parents. He picked up the picture and noted how she resembled them both in some way.

“I’d love to see you as a little girl,” he murmured.

“What?” she asked surprised.

He looked up at her, setting the photo down. “I bet you were cute.”

She furrowed her brow. “What are you on about now William?”

“Spike,” he corrected.

“Does it bother you when I call you William?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I prefer Spike.”

“You know what bothers me?”

“What?”

“When you don’t follow my directions and back off when I ask you to.”

He sat down on the chair across her desk. “Tit for tat, remember?”

“Not even close to being even remotely the same thing.”

He shrugged. “Fine then. Call me William. Your parents still together?”

“Yes.”

“Happily?”

“This is one of those times where you need to learn boundaries,” she said on a sigh and dropped in her chair fixing him with a warning look. “What are you gonna do? Correlate how I am with how my parents are. Reference my mother’s inability to communicate properly all the time as my issue that I’ve had since childhood? Maybe I should talk about Amy, the girl who used to bully me in elementary school. My inner child can come out and heal those wounds.”

“Buffy, I want us to be friends.”

“We’re employer and employee. That’s it.”

“You and Cordelia were friends.”

She pursed her lips. “Not really. In order to really be friends, the other person has to like you.” Closing her eyes briefly she rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers and yawned.

Spike stood up quietly and made his way around to the back of her chair. He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and she jumped.

“Just relax Buffy.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, every muscle tensing.

“Giving you a massage. You’re all bunched up.”

“Can’t imagine why,” she muttered.

“When was the last time you had anyone take care of you?”

“I don’t know. Why? You signing up for the job?” she joked half-heartedly.

“Yes, actually I am.”

She leaned forward so that his hands no longer touched her. “What?”

“I want to cook you dinner,” he said matter-of-factly.

“What? Why?”

“Because I want to take care of you tonight. I caused you a lot of stress today and I think with some dinner and conversation, we could understand each other better. Even become friends.”

She was silent for so long and just staring straight ahead of her that Spike hoped he hadn’t taken things too far. He seemed all about crossing lines. What if this line was crossed so much there was no coming back from it?

Finally, she broke the silence and surprised them both. “Okay.”

********

After closing up shop for the day, Buffy and Spike stopped by the local grocery store to get some food. Spike was pretty sure he knew how to cook. His father, a mortal before meeting his mother, had still kept many of his human ways and taught Spike a great deal about how to live as a mortal. Cooking was among those things he’d been taught and right now as he led Buffy to his apartment, he was glad for it. He’d gotten a couple steaks, some salad fixings, a couple potatoes and a bottle of wine. He hadn’t checked to see if his fridge had been stocked before he left that day, so he figured a little more couldn’t hurt. He silently thanked his uncle for the money he’d left in his pocket and hoped that he’d leave more for him at least until he got paid.

He kept a close eye on Buffy, concerned at how quiet she was. She looked, in a word, defeated. He hoped he didn’t have anything to do with it.

“You all right my lioness?” he asked lightly, resisting the urge to reach out and move the hair away from her face as to see her face better.

She nodded. “Just tired and hungry.”

“We’re here,” he announced leading her up to his place.

Stepping inside, she whistled low. “Nice place.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, leading her to the kitchen.

“What did you do before?”

He stared at her, “What do you mean?”

“For a job?”

“Oh, uh, I worked for a big company.”

“What kind of company?”

“Would you like some wine?”

“Please.”

“So, how do you like your steaks, kitten?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Cooked.”

He smirked. “No kidding really?”

“I don’t cook.”

He smiled. “I’ll teach you.”

“I’ll ruin the meal.”

“No you won’t.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” she muttered.

“I don’t. I think you underestimate you,” he told her honestly.

“Spike,” Buffy said, sighing heavily. “Can we save the psychoanalyzing for another time?”

“Sure pet. Thank you. ”

She knit her brows together. “For?”

“For calling me Spike.”

Buffy was funny. The girl had a wicked wit and it left Spike laughing out loud. Her smile warmed him, made him feel like spreading the wings he’d had to check on his way down to Earth and waving them around out of sheer joy. Her laughter sounded like a chorus of Angels—and he’d heard them first hand.

He’d given her a hard time today, so he was glad to see her unwind. Even if most of her giggles had more to do with the wine and less with the company. It felt good nonetheless to see her smiling and laughing. He’d steered clear of all topics pertaining to business or
anything that could be construed as prying. He kept to safe topics—movies, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, and then those segued into embarrassing moments stories, which Spike had to edit a great deal to hide where he came from and his identity.

She’d helped him make dinner, and he was amazed by how much of a perfectionist Buffy Summers was. She wanted to do everything right and saw any setback as a failure on her part. No wonder she seemed so down. It couldn’t be conducive to have a business that was starting to sink when you were a perfectionist. That had to be at least part of the problem.

Spike took these windows into her psyche and filed them away, just as his aunt had told him to do when it came to reading people. He also utilized the patience Angel had taught him to have when it came to her for it wasn’t like Buffy was handing out information on herself. He’d had to do some legwork to get it out of her.

When he’d complimented her on how great everything turned out, she’d modestly told him it was all because of him. He’d done most of the cooking, she’d said.

“You helped though,” he told her. You put the marinade together for the steaks.”

“You told me what the ingredients were. I just followed direction. I never could have done it without you.”

“Buffy, stop.”

She took a sip of her wine. “What?”

“I pay you a compliment and you take it back. You don’t accept it. I say you did more than just helping. Anyone can follow a cookbook, but it doesn’t mean they get it right and that it makes them a good cook. If that were the case then there would be chefs all over the place. I was your cookbook and you did the work. Accept the compliment.”

“All right, if it means that much to you, I accept the compliment.”

“It does mean a lot to me and it should to you too Buffy.”

“Can we let the compliment thing go now?” she asked, almost meekly, which surprised him. Buffy meek? He’d known her less than 24 hours and he knew that wasn’t a facet of Buffy Summers. It intrigued him.

“You’re like an onion,” he blurted out, studying her.

She blinked. “A what?”

“An onion. You’ve got all these layers to you. I unpeel one, but there’s another one just underneath. And sometimes they contradict the piece I just pulled back. So I just keep peeling and peeling until I get to the core of you.”

“And sometimes, like an onion, I make you cry,” she joked and then laughed at her own joke. Spike couldn’t help but laugh along with her. “But, really,” she said, after taking a sip of her wine and setting it down. “Everyone is like an onion. It’s what makes us unique,” she snorted, “just like everyone else.”

Standing suddenly, he came over to her and took her hand, “Come with me.”

“What?” she asked, confused as he led her to the middle of his living room.

“Want to dance with you,” he told her softly and studied his stereo system before attempting to turn it on. He didn’t want Buffy to think he’d never used it before. That might look a little fishy. He dove in and hoped for the best. Clicking it on, a soft slow tune wafted out of it. Not clichéd at all, he chuckled to himself. Leave it to Eros to have the channels preset to love rock.

He turned to find Buffy standing awkwardly in the middle of his floor where he’d left her, staring at him uncertainly.

He kept his eyes trained on her, despite the fact that she looked away from him and fidgeted with her hands. He took him in his gently and brought them up to his shoulders so they rested there.

“Look at me, Buffy,” he softly demanded her.

Slowly, her eyes met his and he smiled. He wrapped his arms about her waist and pulled her closer to him so that her body was flush against his. Having her body against his was doing things to him that he hadn’t expected. The surge of desire he felt within him, the urge to protect her, and at the same time possess her, was almost overwhelming. Bending his head, he moistened his lips, wanting to claim her lips with his own, but the fear in her eyes stopped him.

It was too soon.

So, instead he dropped his head so that his cheek was next to hers and he could feel her breath on his neck. His heart was thudding rapidly in his chest and he wondered if she could feel it. What he was feeling being this close to her was not supposed to happen, and it’d been happening to him all day too. He should have prepared himself for the possibility of feeling this tingling through his body and this hum coursing through him where her body met his. As soon as he’d laid eyes on her he knew he’d found his own Helen of Troy.

“Spike?”

“Hmmm?” he hummed, closing his eyes and taking in her scent.

“What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you luv,” he murmured, unable to resist the allure of running his fingers through her silky strands.

“Why?”

He smiled, “Because I wanted to.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell and as time passed, the more she relaxed. He held her closer when he felt the tension leave her. He inhaled deeply her scent and closed his eyes, feeling light-headed.

“When was the last time someone held you like this?” he murmured, running his fingers down her back. “Hmmm? Or just touched you--”

She froze instantly and pushed away from him. “What is this? Are you looking for a piece? Am I convenient or is this your way of ‘helping me’? Or, do you think if you seduce me, I’ll just let you run the place?” she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered and walked away, in search of her purse.

He was horrified that she could even think those things. “No, Buffy, wait!” he ran to her and stopped her, holding onto her hands in a death grip. “I brought you here so we could get to know each other better. I meant what I said; I wanted to take care of you tonight. I saw you sitting there and I just wanted to . . . “

She cocked her head to the side. “Wanted to what?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

He shook his head, “No.”

“You’ve told me everything else under the sun and now you can’t answer a simple question?”

“I wanted to hold you!” he blurted out, frustrated.

She looked at him, bewildered, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry I pushed…again. Look, I just want to be honest with you, but I’m getting the feeling that there are some things I should keep to myself.”

“No, you shouldn’t--” She stopped and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea to keep some of those things locked up. I should go now Spike.”

He nodded, not wanting her to go, but knowing if she stayed, he’d be unable to control his urges around her. “I had a good time tonight Buffy. And you know what? It was because of you.”

“This where I take the compliment?” she teased.

“Yes.”

“Taken.”

“Finally.”

Spike found himself whistling as he got ready for work the next morning. He smiled to himself as he remembered her laughter and smiles, their banter and how she felt in his arms. He wanted her back in his arms again, and soon. That was it, as soon as he got to work that day; he was giving her a hug. He’d start each day with her with a hug. It would make her feel good, it would make him feel good and all would be well with the world.

At least he hoped.


“Good morning, my lioness!” he burst out as he flung the doors open. Silence. No sign of her.

“Buffy?”

“Getting coffee!” she called out from the back.

He grinned and made a beeline for the back. He found her with her back to him, making her cup of java.

“How do you feel sweetheart?” he asked, coming up beside her. Today she wore tan capri’s and a tight pink tank top. Her skin was golden brown and looked positively inviting to his touch.

She looked up at him strangely and then took a step back. He frowned at that and immediately stepped closer again. What was with the skittishness?

“Spike. Personal space. You’re invading mine,” she told him and grabbed her cup of coffee. She walked around him headed towards the desk.

“Buffy,” he said following her. “Are you all right, pet?”

She grabbed some papers off the desk, holding them up. “I took the liberty of pulling some files this morning on potential matches. I figured maybe we could go over them together.”

He blinked. “You’re going to let me help choose?”

“If I don’t, are you going to stop hounding me to let you do it?”

“No.”

“There you go then. Besides, Willow took such a shine to you; I figure she wants you to be part of this.”

“So it’s not all about satisfying the customer then.”

She met his eyes. “That’s all it’s about.”

“What about you Buffy?” he asked, walking slowly up to her.

She knit her eyebrows. “What about me what?”

“Are you satisfied?” he asked deeply, reaching out and gliding his hand down her arm. He wasn’t amazed to find her skin silky smooth.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, regarding him almost cautiously.

He smiled softly, “Doing my new favorite thing.”

“What’s that?” she asked, a slight tremble to her voice.

“Touching you,” he answered on a whisper, taking the chance that she wouldn’t bolt and he’d finally be able to take her in his arms. He liked Business Buffy, but he wanted Fun Buffy from the night before.

He wasn’t going to get his wish. She took two full steps back. “That’s enough William. Last night was fun, but . . . “ she trailed off and shook her head, starting for her office.

“But what?” he asked, following her.

“But it’s over.”

He swore his heart stopped beating. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—what is it you’re trying to do here? Are you trying to seduce me? Remember how we talked about keeping some things under wraps?”

He sighed and nodded, “All right.”

“Listen, we’re colleagues and we’re kind of friends—“

“Kind of? Last night—“

“I had too much to drink.”

“Bollocks!”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re lying to me and you know it!” he shouted at her.

“Can you stop yelling at me?”

Now Spike was completely frustrated and angry and he lashed out before he could stop himself. “I don’t know. Can you stop being such a bitch?” So much for temperance.

Glaring at him, Buffy spun on heel and stalked off to her office, slamming the door behind her.

“Great job, mate,” he muttered to himself.

********

Buffy sat down at her desk, willing the tears that were forming away. She was not going to cry. She buried her face in her hands. Why did she do that? Why did she push him away like that? She’d had a lot of fun the night before and he was so damn sweet to her. So why was she pulling away?

He scared her.

She liked the feelings he invoked in her, enjoyed the sweet words and his touch and his blue eyes that seemed to see right to the heart of her. She liked the way he made her feel. Yet that was no reason to start anything with him, at all, ever.

It’d been her experience though that those things never lasted. It all started out that way, but then it soon gave way to taking her for granted, to never getting a job, to telling her that she wasn’t enough and then walking out on her once some other sap came sniffing around. She had to stop and breathe. In. Out. Okay, good.

She was doomed and she had to face facts. She was meant to be alone. The universe was out to get her on the relationship front and she had to just accept it. No matter how hard it was. Right now Spike was perfect—okay that was probably too strong a word, he was horrible with boundaries, indescribably pushy and didn’t know when to just stop already –but other than those things, he was sweet, kind, encouraging and helpful and had this naturally curiosity about things that was refreshing—but-- he had to have a fatal flaw that would lead to nothing but heartbreak. They all did. What was the point in chancing it and ruining everything by getting involved, by—shudder—falling for him? Best to just keep him at arms length and not ruin everything.

Remembering his blue eyes and the smile he’d given her that morning and his touch down her arm . . . she knew this was going to be difficult. She was shivering just at the memory of the feel of it.





Chapter Nine

“Bloody frustrating,” Spike muttered to himself as he glanced at the shut door of Buffy Summers for the hundredth time in an hour. “Can’t just let me in, can’t let me help – all I want to do is help . . . “

“Are you sure that’s all you want to do?”

Spike jumped a near mile and his eyes darted up to find his uncle standing before him in all his God-like glory.

“Uncle, what are you doing? She could come out here at any time—anyone could walk in here and see you--” Spike exclaimed, bolting up from his seat.

Eros laughed, a deep hearty laugh. “No one will see me, trust me. Time’s stopped for a spell.”

“Has it now?” Spike asked wryly.

“You’re tense,” Eros frowned.

“You would be too if you had to deal with,” he gestured toward the shut door, “her.”

Eros cocked his head to the side. “Is the task too hard? It’s only been a day. Shall I send someone else?”

“No!” Spike burst out quickly, “No. I don’t want –that is, I don’t think anyone else could handle her.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Handling her?”

Spike scratched the back of his head. “She’s a difficult one, Uncle. I’m trying my best here.”

“What have you learned thus far?”

“She’s been hurt badly. That much is bloody clear. She’s so shut off. Well, it’s like this really, she’ll open the window just a crack and just when you’re about to climb in, she slams it shut.”

“Have you learned the reasons why?”

“She claims she has tragic taste in men. Plus, Uncle . . . she doesn’t believe in love.”

Eros’ eyes widened. “What?!”

“For herself,” Spike quickly amended. “She thinks she’s meant to be alone for the rest of her life.”

“What do you think?” Eros asked inquisitively.

Spike looked at his uncle in surprise. “What? You’re the one that always taught me there’s a lid for every pot. That everyone has someone for them.”

“And that is all very true, my boy. However, you know, and you’ve seen that sometimes there are those that never marry and settle. In some cases, there are those that are perfectly content with the family and friends they have around them and do not wish for anyone else. Sometimes that’s all one needs to complete their life.”

“I don’t see that for Buffy,” Spike said tightly.

“Don’t see it or don’t want it?”

Spike met his uncle’s eyes. “Don’t want it. Not for her. Someone who has put so much into getting people together should not spend the rest of her life alone.”

Eros nodded, he was grinning in a secretive way. “The best way to help Buffy is to believe in love, Spike. Do you believe in love?”

Spike nodded and his eyes traveled to the shut door. “Yes, Uncle. I believe in love.” He sighed heavily. “I just don’t know if believing in it is enough for her. How do I get her to believe in it too?” He turned back to his uncle only to find him gone. Spike shook his head, sighing heavily. He plopped back down in his chair and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. “Exactly what was the point in that visit?” he asked the air.

********


“This one,” Spike said, pointing at a picture of a guy named Xander Harris on the printout in front of him.

“Really? I chose this one,” Buffy said, pointing to a picture of one named Oz.

Spike grabbed the profile of Oz and skimmed it. “I don’t know. I think Xander and Willow could share some laughter.”

“Yes, but I think Oz would allow her to shine. Remember how you said she needed that?”

“You agreed with me?” Spike asked, surprised. She never really did cease to amaze him in the short time he’d known her. He thought he was doomed to spend the day with her behind closed doors, shutting him out completely. Instead, she’d come out after his uncle had left with a stack of papers. She’d printed out a list for each of them to look over and choose. She appeared calmer and he was trying his best not to do anything to piss her off or send her back in her office.

Buffy smiled, “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he grinned.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “So, you think Xander huh?”

“He seems like a good guy. Well, from what I read on his profile anyway. And look at that smile. He seems kind of . . . goofy. Willow tends to take herself seriously, didn’t you think?”

“True, but Oz is a laid back kind of guy. Very intelligent too.”

“You don’t think Xander is?”

“Well, no I didn’t say that. He is intelligent, but I’m not sure if he’s ‘Willow intelligent’.”

“Seems we’re at an impasse luv. What do we do from here?” Spike asked, smiling. He was enjoying this debate/discussion with Buffy. It was the first time they’d debated on something and not had it result in arguing and her slamming doors and walking away from him. She wasn’t taking anything personally, she wasn’t defensive, she was all business Buffy but softer. Dare he say, friendly even?

“Well, since I am at a place where I feel my judgment is not what it used to be--” she began.

“Buffy, you still have it,” Spike told her gently, placing a hand over hers. She slipped it away from him. He tried not to react to that blatant gesture of denying his comfort. Instead, he placed his hand back on his lap where he would be sure not to reach for her hand again.

“I want to do right by Willow. She’s such a sweet girl and I want to do what I can to help her.”

“You have a big heart,” Spike said softly, staring at his lap.

“So, I’m willing to send her on two dates with both of them.”

Spike’s head shot up. “Really?”

Buffy nodded slowly, “Really. Despite whatever our differences are on a personal level, I can’t deny that there is something to our professional compatibility. I am willing to do what I can to keep this place afloat. For that, I can bend.”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “So, I’m just a piece to help you keep this place then? Is that it?”

Sighing, Buffy sat back, “Who knows? If things go well, you may end up having it.”

His jaw dropped. “What?”

She shrugged. “Just a thought.”

“Well, I don’t like you talking that way! You’re not giving this place up Buffy. I do think you’re in desperate need of some time away to regroup, but this place is all you.”

“It was once, but not anymore. Look at me. I’m washed up.”

“You’re only twenty-eight. You’re not washed up. You just lost your faith in love.”

Buffy sighed, “Let’s not go there again.”

Spike held up his hand. “I won’t start. Don’t send Willow out with Xander. Send her out with Oz. Prove me wrong.”

Buffy shook her head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have it in me to be wrong again.”

“Buffy—“

“Just leave it alone Spike. I’m sending her out with both of them.”

“And if she ends up with Xander?” Spike asked with trepidation. Never had he wanted to be so wrong about something in his life.

“I don’t know. I just don’t know,” Buffy murmured. “Why don’t you call Willow? I’m going to get some lunch. Want anything?”

Spike shook his head. “No,” he said almost mournfully.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried now,” Buffy said, standing up.

“I am. I don’t want to be right. I don’t want you to give this up.”

“What’s a girl to do when she’s lost her touch but to move on?”

“A girl can find her touch again,” Spike told her.

“I just have to accept it.”

“You’re not a quitter, Buffy,” he told her sternly. “I won’t let you quit.”

“You can’t stop me,” she told him, and the edge he expected to find her voice was no longer there. That was worrisome.

Spike wanted to retort with ‘I can and I will’, but he didn’t. That’d just result in slamming doors and more arguing. Instead he stared at her, trying to find the truth in her eyes. All he saw was pain mingled with some resignation and a tiny bit of fire. He wanted all that fire back in her eyes. If she had the fire back, she’d be unstoppable. A plan was starting to form in his mind, a plan that would hopefully get that fire back in her eyes.

"Uncle, I need some help. Just a small favor really," Spike called out through the apartment. He'd decided to make the trek home for lunch, and wished he had his wings to make the trip quicker than it was. "I know you don't want to be popping in much... well, I don't want you popping in at all because I can handle this...but I just need one—"

"What do you need my boy?" And suddenly Eros was there.

"I know we just talked this morning and I said I didn't need help—"

"But you do," Eros stated with a tiny smile.

"I do," Spike nodded. "I really hate to ask this, but I don't think there's any other way because she's so damn stubborn and I'm determined to help her."

"Do you care for her?"

Spike blinked, "Well, yeah. I can't exactly do my job if I don't care, can I?"

Eros smiled, "Of course. So, what is this ‘small favor'?"

"I need you to just kind of control Buffy for me."

Eros frowned, "How so?"

"I want to take her away for a few days. Part of the problem is that the poor girl is overworked. And I know she'd never agree to it, especially not with me . . . " he paused, "not with the way we argue anyway," he muttered. Standing tall, he faced Eros. "So I just need you to work your mojo. I ask; you make it so she says yes. Please?" he ended on a plea.

Eros regarded him silently, expressionless. Finally he nodded his consent. "Ask and she'll say yes. Don't make this a habit, Spike." Then, he was gone.

"Thanks! And I won't!" Spike yelled to him. "You could have stuck around to give me a lift back to work," he muttered.

********

When Spike returned back to work, he found Buffy staring off into space, her uneaten pasta salad in front of her. He sat down across from her at the reception desk and she jumped a little, finally recognizing that he was there.

"Off in another world, my lioness?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I guess I was. You want this?" she asked, gesturing to the pasta salad.
"Nope. I think you should eat it."

She shrugged; "I don’t..." she trailed off and shook her head.

"Nope, you need to eat. You're all skin and bones Buffy. You can't expect to think clearly when your body is hungry."

"Spike," she sighed wearily.

Stabbing the food with the fork in the dish, he held it up to her mouth. "Eat. I'll feed you."

She blinked. "You'll what?"

"Feed you."

"Is this all part of the wanting to take care of me bit?"

He nodded, smiling. "I'll help you take care of yourself. Please? Consider a perk you don't have to pay me for."

"Well, I should hope I wouldn't have to pay you for feeding me."

"Stop yammering pet, and open up."

Buffy did so, hesitantly and Spike didn't waste a minute shoving the food in her mouth. As soon as she swallowed she opened her mouth for more.

Spike grinned, "Not hungry ay kitten?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, "Come on. Feed me."

He obliged her, taking great joy in being able to feed her and look after her. His mind was abuzz of all the different things he wanted to feed her, like strawberries with cream on them. He wanted to watch that little pink tongue worm it way out of the cavern of her mouth and lick the cream straight off . . . Oh, Zeus. He was hard. Thankfully, she was just about done because if she opened her mouth one more time, he might not be responsible for what he shoved in there.

"Mmm..." she said closing her eyes contentedly. "So this is what it feels like to be full. I want to sleep now," she giggled.

Spike's eyes widened. "You giggled," he said almost breathlessly, stunned how such an adorable noise could go straight to his cock and make it even harder. He could pound nails with it right now.

"I did. Must be the food. Or delirium." She rolled her eyes. "I have been known to laugh once in a while, ya know."

Spike smiled, "Not just a laugh Buffy. A giggle. A very cute giggle."

She smirked, "Play your cards right and it could happen again."

"I want to make that happen a lot," Spike said wistfully. He took a deep breath, "Buffy, I want to take you away for a few days on a vacation. Will you come with me?"

"Yes," was the quick reply.

Thank you, Uncle Eros.

Chapter Eleven

“I can’t believe I’m going on vacation,” Buffy stated for the tenth time in an hour. She looked over at Spike’s amused and yet somewhat uncomfortable face. “With you. I mean I don’t just do things like that. And yet I am. With you.”

“Oi! Not very nice, kitten. You’re going to have a fantastic time with me. Much needed rest and . . . all that stuff.”

“Where are we going?” Buffy asked, as she pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote: ‘Things to Pack’ at the top.

Spike fidgeted. Good Goddess, why did he never think things out? Let’s go on vacation Buffy. Uncle, make her say yes...Where the bleeding hell were they going to go? He understood now what his mother meant when she called him impulsive. Impetuous. It was the whole reason why, his mother claimed, he’d rammed straight into Mt. Olympus’ pillars when he was learning how to fly still. Apparently, he’d wanted to show he didn’t need any help and that he could do it all on his own. He took off in the middle of his mother’s explanation about flight control and wham! His left wing had been sore for a week. He rubbed his left arm as Buffy looked up at him expectantly.

“Uh, it’s a surprise,” he finally answered.

“You mean you don’t know,” she said, placing her pen down.

“I mean it’s surprise,” he said huffily. “Can you just trust me?”

She started to laugh. That didn’t bode well. He glared at her and she stopped. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t trust easily.” To, what he supposed was supposed to be to herself, she muttered, “At least not anymore.”

Spike cocked his head to the side. “What happened?”

“What?” she looked up.

“What happened that you don’t trust anymore?”

She shrugged, “Life. So, if this is a sur—“

“Like what happened?” Spike asked and sat down across from her.

She blinked at him. “Huh?”

“What happened to make you not trust,” he urged.

“Just let it go Spike,” she said with a wave of her hand and started to doodle on the paper before her.

“You’ll go on vacation with but won’t tell me why you don’t trust anyone?” Even if it wasn’t you that actually agreed, he thought. So much guilt for that.

“Yeah, I’m still trying to figure that one out.” She frowned, sighed and looked back up at him. “It’s not that I won’t trust anyone, I just have a hard time doing so. They pretty much have to earn it.”

Spike nodded slowly. “I can understand that. Did you trust easily before?”

“Yeah, I’ve known a lot of liars that made me a little…wary.”

“Were these liars ex boyfriends?”

“Of course.”

“Did you love them?

“What a ridiculous question,” she waved her hand at him, as if dismissing him.

“Not really. You could have been in lust with them. You could have just cared for them. You didn’t have to be in love with them.”

She studied him for a long time. “Well, I was,” she said finally, quietly.

“What did they lie about?”

“One lied about being married. Another about getting a job. One told me he never loved me at all.”

“Do you believe he did?”

“Sometimes I thought he did.”

“Only sometimes?”

“You can feel it ya know? You can tell when someone is really with you and only half with you.” She sounded almost wistful.

“Why was he with you if he--? I’m sorry Buffy,” Spike said, shaking his head.

“What are you sorry for? You asked.” The hardness in her tone made him wince.

“Because I hate to think of you in pain,” he told her honestly. “And I don’t understand how someone, anyone, could not love you.”

Her eyes widened at that and he swore he saw tears welling before she stood abruptly. “Don’t,” she said firmly.

“Don’t what?”

“Lie to me. Butter me up to suit your purposes.”

Now his eyes grew large and he stood to face her. “I would never lie to you Buffy. I told you I never would and I never have.” Except that I’m immortal and my Uncle is Eros, the God of Love, and I have wings and I had my uncle work magick on you so you’d go away with me. Other than that, I wouldn’t lie to you, Spike thought sarcastically in his mind, wanting to kick himself for his duplicity.

“You just don’t want me to leave here,” she told him and stalked off.

He went after her; grabbing her arm and making her face him. He was pissed. Pissed at himself for the deceptions that kept growing, pissed for feeling guilty even though he knew she would never have agreed to go away without some outside assistance, pissed that he cared more than he should have, pissed that she invoked feelings in him that he knew he wasn’t supposed to be feeling for any mortal—and least of all the one he’d been sent on a mission to help. He was also pissed that he’d been denied his hug that morning!

“Now you listen to me Buffy Summers,” he demanded, his voice shaking with anger. “I do not lie to you. I never have and I never will. I care about you, dammit. I care about you and this place most of all. I’d rather see you happy and see this place burn if that’s what it took to put a smile on your beautiful face. I’m tired of you running away from me and thinking I have some other motive under my sleeve. I don’t. It’s for you that I put up with your attitude; it’s for you that I care. I want to help you. I’m not like them Buffy so don’t lump me in there with them. Maybe they had motives and ulterior motives, but I don’t. When I say I want to take care of you, I mean it. When I say that. . . “ he softened and wrapped his arms around her, “that my new favorite thing is to hold you, I mean it. I do. I really, really do.” He brushed his fingers through her hair and froze when he felt her body rock with a sob. No, this was a good thing. It needed to be done and she needed to know that she could let that side of her show with him and he’d accept it, he’d take all of her just as she was. No brave fronts were needed.

It only made him care for her more.

“You need to be held like this,” he whispered soothingly, rocking her slightly in his arms. “You need to know that you’re not alone. At least not while I’m here.” And please, don’t take me from her now or . . . possibly ever. “Let me take care of you Buffy. Let me show you that I want to be here because of you and no other reason. Let me hold you, and cook for you, and make you laugh. Will you let me do that?”

“I’m scared,” she whimpered through her tears against his chest.

“So am I, my lioness.”

“Of what? You’re never afraid.”

“I’m afraid you won’t let me in. I’m afraid you’ll give up on everything. There is so much life in you, Buffy. You just don’t see it. I want you to see it.”

She didn’t answer and instead buried herself deeper in his embrace and he nestled his head against hers, whispering nonsensical words of comfort.

It was funny how all felt right with the world just by holding Buffy Summers in his arms.

Their relationship shifted after he’d laid it all out for her and she’d cried in his arms. She seemed more at ease, more open, and ready to listen to what he had to say—and really listening, not just waiting until he was done so she could rush to disagree. Of course, the day was young, but Spike was going to enjoy it while he could. He’d even asked Buffy if he could sit an interview out so he could retire to her office and make plans for their trip. The fact that she’d agreed nearly knocked him to the ground. He just prayed that his uncle didn’t have a hand in her sudden easygoing manner and that he was experiencing the kinder side of Buffy. The side he knew she had in her, but was too afraid to let show.

And, as soon as he’d entered her office a manila envelope appeared on her desk. Now that, he knew, was Uncle Eros and he wasn’t amused.

“Uncle,” he hissed, “What if it’d been her that walked in? And I told you not to eavesdrop!”

“Well, I knew it wasn’t her and I’m not eavesdropping, per se,” Eros said and appeared, reclining in Buffy’s armchair. He frowned, “Vinyl is not so friendly on wings and a bare—“

“Uncle!”

Eros grinned. He pointed to the manila envelope on the desk. “Inside you’ll find two tickets to the most romantic vacation spot on Earth, some money, Traveler’s checks, a debit card, a credit card, a license, a passport and checks. I’ve taken the liberty of arranging a few necessary things that were seemingly overlooked upon your quick departure to Earth.”

“You mean the departure in which I was literally knocked on my ass?”

“Such language, Spike. Seems to be you’ve been knocked on your ‘ass’ since arriving too,” Eros said, grinning knowingly.

Spike furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

Eros chuckled. “Open the manila envelope.”

Eyeing his uncle, Spike opened the manila envelope, but before looking at the tickets, he had to know the truth. “Uncle, she’s not being nicer to me because you worked some mojo on her is she?”

Eros nodded and stood. He patted Spike on the back. “Doubting your abilities?”

Spike nodded, “Maybe a little.”

“Perhaps being firm with her was what was needed. She needed to know the truth and depth of your emotions. She saw it, rest assured.”

“She really did?”

“I thought you felt confident in this task, Spike,” Eros frowned.

“I—I do. I just. . . I feel guilty.”

Eros shrugged, “A minor bump in the road.”

“Minor bump? If she ever found out what I had you do—“

“You plan to tell her? You know you can’t do that,” Eros said sternly.

“I know,” Spike said softly.

“Now take a look at those tickets,” Eros grinned.

Taking them out, Spike gasped. Two tickets for a week to Paris, France. He shook his head immediately.

“Why ‘no’?” Eros demanded, put off that that wasn’t a good choice.

“Because it’s too much. She’d love it, but she’d . . . wonder. I mean, Paris? She’s already suspicious of me and the more I can’t answer . . . Can you make to Kauai?”

“As in one of the Hawaiian Islands?”

“Yes, please. Ever since I had to set up that elderly couple there, I’ve always wanted to see it again.”

Eros shrugged. “Very well.”

“I know you mean well, Uncle, but you think like . . . well, you.”

“I think like someone that’s observed the hot spots for lovers, I understand,” Eros nodded. “And this is not a trip for lovers, is it? It’s just a trip for Buffy to get some relaxation and gain some peace of mind, correct?”

Spike nodded mutely, his eyes downcast.

“For it can’t be anything more than that, right Spike?”

Still looking down, Spike nodded and missed the gentle smile on Eros’ face.

His uncle patted his back, “I think you’ll do fine. Kauai it is. Very peaceful and relaxing.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“She’ll enjoy it, I’m sure. I don’t think you’re off the mark here, my boy. That girl does need a break.”

“But no mojo right?”

“No mojo. And, unless you really need me, no eavesdropping.”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

“I believe Miss Summers is done now. Why don’t you tell her the good news? You’ve got your destination.”

In a flash, he was gone and Spike stood holding the manila envelope in his hands. Buffy knocked on the door, “Spike? Can I come in?”

He smiled, “Yes, my lioness.” And he shoved the tickets in the manila envelope and wrapped his arms around it.

The door opened, “Everything okay?” she asked, bringing in the latest files.

“Yep. I uh, have our destination.”

“Oh? Are you currently hugging that information to your chest?”

Spike nodded. “It’s a surprise, but we’re leaving at the end of the week.”

Her eyes widened. “The end of the week? This week?”

He nodded. “Problem?”

“Means I have to get a few things in order, like our latest client and Willow, Xander and Oz –“

“It’ll be all right sweetling. I’ll help you. Give me Xander’s number and I’ll call him. You call Oz and we’ll call Willow together. Sound good?”

“Sure.”

“Then you can brief me on the latest and we’ll come up with a plan for her before we leave.”

She shook her head in wonder.

“What?” he asked, fearing he’d done something wrong.

“Just thinking that maybe we do make a good team,” she said softly.

Spike smiled broadly, “Yes, we do.” And he left it at that. He didn’t gloat or go on about it. Doing that would send her into a hissy and make her take it back. Just that additional step towards accepting him and opening herself up was all he needed. Hopefully, by the end of their week, she’d be putty in his hands. He frowned at that train of thought. Then what? He got her back on board with her business and she found herself at peace once again, then what? He left? Did he have to play matchmaker for—Oh Great Merciful Zeus, No! He wouldn’t do it, he would not set her up with someone—what the bleeding hell had he just gotten himself into? Did he miss something in the directions his uncle had given him? Was he supposed to do that?

“Spike?” Buffy asked, gently putting her hand on his head. “Are you all right? You’re looking a little ill.”

He gazed down at her, at her concerned green eyes, her cute upturned nose and rosy cheeks. Some bloke would be very lucky to have a girl like her. All the fire and passion she possessed . . . they’d be lucky to end up with such a lioness. His Lioness.

He nodded, “I think I’m just hungry.”

“Well, you’re always yelling at me to eat, why don’t you take your own advice and then we’ll get to work on these.”

Unable to stop himself, he brought her in his arms and held her tight.

“Spike?” she asked, uncertain.

“It’s okay, I’m just excited to be going away. We’re going to have a lot of fun you and me, yeah?”

“Oh I have no doubt for your capacity to show me a good time, Spike. You’re certainly full of surprises. But right now the envelope you’ve been hugging is digging into my chest.”

He released her immediately, “Sorry, luv.”

“It’s okay. Go get something to eat, all right?”

He nodded, taking his envelope with him and made his way outside. He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. He was very certain that he was falling in love with Buffy Summers. In fact, he was fairly certain that he already was.

His uncle was going to pitch a fit to rival his mothers if he found out. And yet—how was he going to be able to keep it under wraps? He wasn’t exactly known for keeping things under wraps, his real identity aside, and he’d never felt this so intensely before and just the thought of leaving her filled him with a dread that rivaled all else. He was drowning in it now, wasn’t he?

Buffy wondered when it would be a good time to tell Spike she was deathly afraid of flying. When he’d invited her to go on vacation with him, she’d thought he meant a weekend away at some resort or something. Not a full week in a Hawaiian Island—and what she knew of Kauai, the most romantic of the islands. She darted a glance at him as he leaned back in his seat in the cab. Was he thinking romance? And why was she pondering if he was pondering it if she wasn’t pondering the idea herself. It was confusing and complicated and she was trying not to dwell on her body’s reaction to his close proximity. Or the fact that her heart had started doing this racing thing when he was around. Nope, they were friends, that was it. Just friends. So why was he smiling at her now so tenderly? Was she just reading into things?

“What?” she asked, wincing at the snapping quality to her question.

He frowned slightly at that. “Excited?”

She bit her lip and looked out the window. “Yeah, huh.”

He put his hand under her chin and made her look at him. “What is it? Willow? She was really excited about having two dates and I think Robin was a good choice for that Faith bird—“

“No, it’s not that,” she shook her head, dislodging his hand.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m petrified of flying,” she whispered, looking down.

He started to laugh.

She glared at him. “Okay, it’s not funny!”

“Oh, it is pet if you knew—Buffy, it’s all right kitten. You don’t have a thing to worry about.”

She furrowed her brow, “How do you know?”

“Let’s just say I have it on good authority.”

“I knew it! You’re one of those bible thumping freaks aren’t you? Let me guess, you had a chat with God this morning after he appeared in your toast.”

That made him laugh harder. “No kitten, I don’t even eat toast.”

“Spike—“

“Ssshhh.” He pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her. Immediately, she relaxed. There was something just so comforting about being in his arms. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. You’ll be fine. Flying isn’t that much of a big deal. It’s fun! Can you imagine what it would be like if you had wings?”

“Like a bird?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d much rather be like Superman or Supergirl and not have wings.”

“What’s wrong with fluffy, white wings? Sure they can sometimes make you sneeze but they’re pretty compact as long as you know when to extend and when to—“

“Do you know from experience what it’s like to have wings?” she asked, amused. She looked up at him, his blue eyes sparkling with determination as he looked straight ahead. Then he looked down at her and his gaze softened. He smiled.

“I’m just wagering I’d rather have wings,” he said. “Superman wore tights.”

Buffy giggled, “Would you rather be a cherub like the God of Love? He has a toga or sometimes even a giant white diaper—“

“Pet, bite your tongue,” Spike said firmly. “Eros is not cherub like. That’d insinuate he was a child and he most certainly is not. Those bloody Romans have him that way. And he might wear a toga, but it fits him, he—“

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. “There is certainly more to you than meets the eye. Why are you giving me a dissertation on Eros versus Cupid and getting quite defensive about it?”

“I uh, studied a lot of Greek, what do you call it? Mythology. You could call me an expert on the subject.”

“And you feel quite passionate about it, I see.”

“Well, yes. Kind of like how you feel passionate about work.”

Buffy sighed, “Do I? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You do,” Spike said quietly. “I can see it and feel it even if you don’t.”

“Can we not talk about work?”

“Good idea. Instead, let’s talk about all the decadent things we’ll do this week.”

She smiled. Decadent. She liked the sound of that.

********


He supposed it was horribly wrong of him to take such pleasure in her fear of flying, but how could he help it? For one thing, since he flew and was somewhat familiar with aviation as Mercury planted that seed in humans—he felt pretty secure in their flight. Not to mention that if something were to happen, he knew his uncle would be right there to lend a hand. In fact, he was pretty sure this particular flight was being looked after. So her fear was laughable at least to him. However, his most favorite part of Buffy’s fear was the fact that she was now allowing him to wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly against him. He was free to hold her, caress her, comfort her and bury his nose in her fragrant hair and nuzzle her fragrant skin.

Unfortunately, he was also afraid he wouldn’t have a hand left after this for she was crushing it with the mighty grip she had.

“Luv?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t fancy having a crushed hand.”

“Oh. Sorry,” and she released his hand.

He grabbed it again. “Now I didn’t say you had to let me go. Just ease up on the sumo grip.”

She giggled and it was music to his ears. He smiled and tweaked her nose. “Do you have the Dramamine, pet?”

“I do.”


“Did you take one?”

“Yep, a half hour before we boarded.”

“Kicking in yet?”

“I’m starting to feel a little numb,” and as if on cue, she yawned.

“We’re getting ready soon, pet. The stewardesses are coming out to do their song and dance.”

She giggled again and leaned into him, rubbing her nose against his. “You’re so cute.”

His heart warmed, but he had to keep himself in check. She was under the influence. “Pet, do you take pills on occasion for headaches and such?”

She shrugged. “Not all the time. Why?”

“No reason. Why don’t you rest now hmmm? Just lean back in my arms, that’s right. Mind if I pet you?”

“Like you would your lioness?” she yawned.

“You are my lioness and I want to pet my kitty. May I?”

She nodded, “Please.”

She nestled herself in his arms, resting her head on his chest and he stroked his fingers through her hair. In minutes she was asleep. Spike grinned when an unladylike snore came from her. He guessed he really was under it when he found a snore adorable.

She slept until it was just about time to land, resting against him. Spike closed his eyes and imagined her resting like this against him for eternity. Would it really be that hard to make her immortal like him? His Uncle risked a lot for Psyche—mostly because Aphrodite could be a jealous, territorial loon, but it’d been done. His mother had done it for his father. It wasn’t unheard of in the least.

But that wasn’t what he was here for, he reminded himself. He was here to make Buffy strong and successful again. He was here to help her get her business back to the success it had been and mating up those singles out there.

However, Buffy couldn’t be expected to be alone for the rest of her life could she? Well . . . maybe she could. Maybe she’d find so much pleasure in the business of helping others that she didn’t need anyone. Yeah, that’s right. She didn’t need anyone but the smiling faces and happy success stories of her customers. Then, maybe a few would name their kids after her or she’d be a Goddess Mother to some and she’d be surrounded by happiness and love. It would be enough to fulfill her.

Right?

Yeah, like his uncle would ever go for that. How unfair would it be to have the matchmaker never make a match for herself? That wouldn’t be right and he knew Buffy wouldn’t accept that. She wanted love, needed love, desired it and craved it with all that was in her. She just didn’t know how to express it because she was so afraid of being hurt once again. But Spike could feel it all around her so strongly, she reeked of it. Buffy Summers wanted and needed love and companionship. She was made for it.

And the way she felt about her clients . . . she had such a capacity for love that it’d be cruel to have her not find that someone special she deserved to have. The question was: Did they deserve her? Did ‘no’ go with ‘way’? Of course they didn’t deserve her! She was everything a bloke could want minus the extreme stubbornness. Well, sometimes her stubbornness was really hot. Though he preferred it when it wasn’t directed at him.

“Spike?” Buffy murmured, burying her face in his shoulder.

He smiled warmly, “Kitten?”

“Are we there yet?”

“Almost, baby.”

“How long have I been—God what was that?!” she bolted up in her seat, a panicked expression on her face. “We’re going down aren’t we? We’re going down in fiery explosion. I can’t believe I’m going to die here. On a plane. Of all the things—“

Spike pressed a finger to her lips, shushing her. “It was the plane descending a few notches, luv, that’s all. We’re in the process of landing. No death to be had here. Do you think the people on this plane would be so calm if we were going down?”

She relaxed a bit, but was still pretty much ramrod straight in her seat. “They could have accepted their fate. How do I know?”

“We’re fine, sit back and relax. No worries, yeah?”

She snorted.

“Well, that sounded promising.”

“No, I’m fine…I am. I’m just fine…My life flashed before my eyes, but that’s normal right? Right?” Her voice was slightly high pitched and she looked pale.

“Don’t you trust me kitten?”

“You’re not flying this puppy are you?”

He grinned, opting not to tell her just how well he could fly. Without the plane. Instead, he opted to get her riled up and yelling at him. That way, she’d be distracted.

“So, pet. Why don’t you tell me exactly when you became such a chicken shit?”

Her jaw dropped in shock at first. Then her eyes narrowed and her hands balled into fists. Her cheeks reddened immediately and opened her mouth.

This is going to be good, he thought. Was it sick that he was greedily anticipating her reaming him out?

“I will have you know that I am not a chicken shit. I am a very brave woman as a matter of fact. Oh sure there was that time I wigged out when I was forced to climb Mt. Washington, but for crying out loud, I was only five years old and I really think I’m just petrified of heights. I’m up on something high and I look down and all I can see is my body laid out, dead and lifeless—“

“Lifeless means dead doesn’t it?”

She poked him with her finger. “Stop being such a smart ass. I’m not scared of much aside from death . . . and heights. But plummeting from a great height leads to death so in a sense they could definitely go hand in hand. You know I started my own business, which some that idea quite frightening, but I did it!”

He grinned, “I know.”

“And it wasn’t easy. It took a lot. Especially in what I’m doing and let me tell you something about fear buddy,” she poked him again. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to match people up? I get this little spiral of dread through me every time someone walks in that door. They’re putting their love life in my hands. I’m responsible for setting them up with a mate for life. Do you have any idea how incredibly daunting that is? It’s terrifying. And yet I still did it. I let people put their love life in my hands every day and – Jesus Christ, why do I do what I do? It’s not like I’m any good at it anymore. Why are you exactly trying to make me keep doing this?” She sat back in her chair. “I think I’m developing an ulcer—shit, what was that?”

“We’ve landed,” he told her. “And you’re bloody fantastic at what you do. You’ve just lost your confidence is all. Don’t worry, you’ll get it back.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

“I’m sure of you.”

“You’ve got serious problems then.”

He shook his head. “Are you sure of me at all?”

She narrowed her eyes. “In what respect?”

“Do you trust me?”

She shrugged half heartedly.

“I’ll say you do since you’re on vacation with me.”

“Still trying to figure that one out myself . . . and who takes a vacation after their first week of work?”

He ignored her comment and her question. “And since you do trust me, then you should in turn trust yourself. I won’t steer you wrong, my lioness.”

She snorted in response.

“So, oh King of Planning at the Last Minute—Do you have our hotel too?” Buffy asked after they’d grabbed their suitcases and nabbed themselves a rental car.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” Spike told her haughtily. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I do. I just need to look in my little envelope here—“ He was hoping and praying that he’d just overlooked that when his uncle had handed him the package and that there was something about reservations. He opened the envelope as Buffy waited, slightly impatiently, tapping her foot.

He opened the envelope and rummaged around. He held his breath until he found what he was looking for. He sighed in relief. Thank Almighty Zeus! He was sure he’d never hear the end of it if that hadn’t been booked.
“See?” he thrust the paper containing the hotel complete with pictures and directions at her.

She smiled and skimmed over the information. She gasped. “Spike, this is incredible. It’s a resort—we have a townhouse complete with a kitchen and a balcony—but it only has one incredibly large bedroom that takes up the top floor.”

Spike rolled his eyes upwards, not sure if he should thank or damn his uncle for that.

“Well, it says that the couch pulls out in the living room. So I could take that—“

“No you will not. My girl gets the bedroom. Vacation remember?”

She shook her head. “But it’s your vacation too, and you planned all this.”

“Buffy, you can take the bedroom.”

“Thank you. Will you let me pay for my half of –“

“I told you I’m not taking your money.”

“But Spike you had to have—“

He put a finger to her soft, full lips. “No. Not a cent, got it?”

She nodded.

“You can treat me to dinner, how’s that?”

She smiled and nodded. He grinned and ushered her to the car they’d just rented. “Then we can check out the island, yeah? Drive around, see what’s up?”

She nodded enthusiastically and buckled herself in. He smiled at the joy on her face.

*********

“Spike, we can get massages in our room! And they have Hula lessons and a private beach . . . oh look! They have a pizza place right down the road from that delivers too!” Buffy sat on the couch in their town house poring over the perks of their resort and Spike sat back and just watched her. Already she looked as if the weight she’d been carrying around in Sunnydale had been lifted. He was seeing a passion for living that he had yet to see and had hoped to bring out in her. The magic of the quiet –and romantic—island was weaving its spell. Course, Spike had to wonder what other magick’s were coming out to play and just what his uncle was thinking. Was he trying to drive him right around the bend by placing he and Buffy here? It was both his pleasure and his hell.

She looked up at him “We should get some groceries so we can make breakfast here. What do you think?”

He nodded and smiled.

“What are you thinking? You’re being awfully quiet over there.”

“I’m thinking how cute you are when you’re excited. You positively glow kitten.”

She blushed, something else he wasn’t used to. Setting down the brochure she jumped up. “So, let’s get going. I’m feeling the jet lag catch up with me.”

“Ah, but we have to beat it by staying up.”

She grinned, “Slave driver.”

He smiled, “Yep. And your master wants you keep your eyes open for a nice place to eat.”

********

She wanted him that much she knew. Beyond that, she didn’t really want to analyze it. She’d known she was attracted to him in Sunnydale, and she’d beaten the feeling down with a stick. No, more like a tree – it took that much force to beat it down, curb it and generally make the best of ignoring it. But something about being in a different place so far away from home, something about the island was weaving its spell around her and she felt free. And, if she was even more honest with herself, she felt safe with Spike, cherished even. He cared about her and it wasn’t because he wanted something from her. No, he truly cared. That meant everything to her. Everything that she couldn’t express with words. Words failed her a lot of the time and she’d learned a hard lesson that sometimes giving voice to what you really felt inside, could only cause you pain. Showing vulnerability meant that it could be used against you. You could become crippled by your feelings when put in the hands of someone not worthy of your love and trust.

Spike, however . . . she trusted. To a degree anyway. She still needed to keep herself in check and wasn’t about to go all nilly willy with gushing to him about how much this meant to her, about how much fun she was already having and how thankful she was to him for getting her away.

However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t show him right? Maybe she couldn’t say how much she wanted him or how much this meant to her, but she could surely show him. She pondered that as she watched him decide what to order. My but he could be picky when it came to choosing food. She hadn’t noticed before how he had to have only the best. However, she should have known by the resort he’d booked for them. It was outrageously gorgeous and exotic.

“What are you thinking about kitten?” he asked as he placed his menu down.

She shook herself out of the trance she’d been in watching him and shook her head,

“Nothing.”

“Looked like something.”

“I was just thinking about how I could possibly thank you for all this,” said, gesturing around them.

“For dinner? You’re paying remember?” he grinned.

“No, Spike, for this vacation.”

“Just you havin’ a good time is thanks enough for me.”

“Hmm… We’ll see,” she murmured.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

She shrugged, “Just that.”

He fidgeted in his chair. “Oh?”

She studied him, cocking her head to the side. He was nervous. She found that odd . . . and oddly refreshing. The things he did to make her nervous – his pet names, his tender looks, his fierce protectiveness and the way he always seemed to want to touch her and hold her –now the tables were possibly turned and he was the one who was nervous. She grinned devilishly. Oh yes, she could definitely have fun with this.

After dinner, the pair decided to take a stroll around the resort and check out the private beach. It surprised Spike to see the girl take off at the first sign of water. Laughing gleefully she kicked off her sandals and bounded into the water, lifting up her ankle length skirt to her knees and allowing the water to splash over her. Thinking it looked like fun; he chucked his shoes and socks and ran to join her. She laughed as a large wave came and nearly soaked him.

“You think that’s funny?” he asked, grinning and pointing at her. “Just you wait, my lioness,” and he started stalking her.

Squealing, she took off, running in the water away from him. He laughed as he ran after her, gasped as she fell, and then braced himself as he tripped over her. The sound of her continuous laughter let him know she was all right when he resurfaced. She sat up to her waist in the warm ocean water, her hair soaked and stringy and her tank clinging to her pert breasts, outlining them for him, and her skirt rode up to her mid thigh.

“You look like a water nymph,” he breathed huskily.

She stopped laughing and cocked her head to the side. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yes.”

“Have you seen many?” she teased.

“Yes—Well, pictures of them.”
She smiled and stood, her skirt falling back down. She held out her hand to him. “Come on.”

He took her hand, wet as it was, and stood. They were mere inches apart and she gazed up at him. She reached out to push some of his curls away from his forehead and it was like watching her in slow motion. He held his breath and his eyes drifted shut as he leaned in to her touch. He thought he would fall apart at just the simple gesture of her hand moving down the side of his face, caressing him. His eyes flew open when he felt her lips touch his.

Buffy was kissing him was the repeated mantra in his mind as she kissed him softly, sweetly and much too quickly. He stood straight as a rod, unsure of what to do. How was this possible? His uncle was the God of Love, he himself was a well known ladies man – at one time—and he was struck dumb by this slip of a mortal woman.

“Thank you,” she whispered when she pulled back, putting some distance between them. He stared at her, letting her words settle over him.

“For?” he nearly croaked.

“For this vacation.”

He shook his head, and in the process sprinkling her with water. “Don’t thank me . . . like that.”

“I wanted to.”

“You don’t have to,” he told her.

“I know,” she said simply and his eyes widened.

“Buffy—“

“I wanted to,” she said again and he finally caught the meaning. What she was saying and what she was doing were not related. She thanked him for the vacation, but her actions were not because of gratitude. She kissed him because she wanted to. He stood there, staring at her. She gave him a soft smile bordering on embarrassed, and walked away.
What are you doing just standing here? Spike reprimanded himself. Why aren’t you going after her? Coward!

********

Buffy looked over her shoulder; Spike was still standing there, the waves crashing around his knees.

Had she gone too far? Should she have not done that? She’d thought he would have reciprocated. She thought he would have liked –what? A broken woman like her? You’ve pretty much told him how pathetic you were with the men you chose, and the lack of friends you have, not to mention the nosedive your business was taking. Why would he want you? He might care for you, but he cares as a friend and you just crossed a line, she thought bitterly.

Tears mingled with the saltwater dripping down her face and she took a shuddering breath, getting ready to run back to their townhouse and far away from Spike when she felt herself being brought up against a solid chest.

“Pet,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, “No it’s okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I crossed a line and –“

He spun her around. “No, you didn’t cross a line,” he shook his head. “You shocked me. Buffy, I . . . I never thought you’d do that and then you did and . . . I thought I was dreaming,” he finished on a whisper.

“You thought of me kissing you?” she squeaked out in shock.

“So many times.”

“Oh,” she said, dazed.

“Can I kiss you now Buffy?”

She nodded, still dazed.

Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned in until their breath just mingled and he gazed into her eyes, watching each emotion flit across them and watched her eyes grow greener as he stared at her.

Darting out his tongue, he traced her bottom lip and she whimpered, her eyes falling shut. He smiled and dipped his head, pressing his lips against hers to which she immediately opened her mouth and he delved inside, languorously tasting her, exploring her mouth. Her own tongue came out to play and he groaned, delving his hands into her hair and bringing her against him, letting her feel just how affected he was by her and how glad he was that she had done that.

Buffy broke away when the sensations running rampant through her became too much. She thought she was ready for this, hell, she’d thought she was so ready that she was going to seduce him and tease him. But this . . . the feeling he invoked in her was overwhelming. The things she felt in that kiss—he might as well be the wave knocking her over.

She started to move away and he stopped her, held her fast. “Don’t go,” he told her.

“Spike,” she said, feeling a tad panicked.

He held her fast. “No, Buffy. Don’t run. You’ve got nothing to run from, nothing to fear from me. I won’t leave you like them.”

Tears dripped from her eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

He wiped her tears away gently with the pads of his thumb. “Don’t be,” he whispered. “I won’t let anything hurt you. Do you trust me?”

She swallowed and took a deep breath, nodding.

Spike took her in his arms and held her. “I’ll hold you and care for you. . . I won’t push you for anything and won’t ever make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Buffy held onto him tight. “I’m still scared.”

“I know, kitten,” he told her and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “I am too.”

“You’re not afraid of anything.”

If you only knew, he thought. “I’ll hold you tonight kitten? Can I do that?”

“Please,” she whispered, nodding adamantly.

“For as long as you’ll let me,” he whispered back. Or as long as my uncle will.

Spike watched her as she slept, cradling her close to him, running her hair through his fingers as she slumbered. The moonlight filtered in through the balcony of her room and he could hear the ocean in the distance. The sweet scent of the island combined with Buffy’s own sweet scent assailed his senses and filled his heart to over flowing.

God, he loved her.

He was quite certain that he’d never felt this way before. He was filled with the intense desire to protect her, worship her, hold onto her and never let her go. He wanted to cherish each moment he spent with her, file them away and visit them on occasion. He wanted to make memories with her, have children with her –he wanted to make her immortal. That way, they’d be together forever. He feared the consequence if he asked. He already feared what Eros would do if he knew what was happening. He wouldn’t trade each stolen moment he had with Buffy though. He’d cherish each and every moment. He’d find a way for them to be together, he’d make his uncle – and her-- see that this was the way it was supposed to be.

He hoped.

“Spike?” Buffy murmured in her sleep, looking up at him sleepily.

“What’s the matter, kitten? Did I wake you?”

“No, I –“ she looked down, “I sensed that you were awake.”

His eyes widened. “You did?”

“I don’t know how, I just did, and it made me wake up.”

He smiled and moved closer to her.

“Why are you awake?” she asked. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m very comfortable.”

She smirked, “You did all that just so you didn’t have to sleep on the pull out. Admit it.”

He chuckled, and then looked at her solemnly. “If I’m keeping you up, I’ll go.”

She jutted out an arm, stopping him. “No, please,” she bit her lip and looked down shyly.

“I like having you here.”

“This is a different side of you,” he murmured, stroking her bare arm. “One I’m not used to.”

She met his eyes and smirked, “The softer side of Buffy?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say it but—“

She playfully hit him. “I don’t know what it is exactly . . . well, I think I do. I just feel . . . free. I don’t feel weighed down, don’t feel as if it’s another day for me to mess up someone’s love life—“

“Don’t say that Buffy. You’ve brought more joy than heartache and you know it.”

“Yeah, but those few hearts you do mismatch . . . It stays with you and far outweighs the good you’ve done. Especially in situations where one wants to be with someone and the other doesn’t reciprocate. It’s hard to watch.”

“You love seeing people happy,” Spike observed.

“Yeah,” she nodded slowly and rolled to her back, staring up at the ceiling. “And somewhere, I lost how to make myself happy. I thought I knew, but it turned out that I was just mismatching myself. That, and throwing myself into my work and not taking the time to nurture the few good friends I did have.”

Spike scooted closer and wrapped an arm across Buffy’s stomach, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I’m your friend.”

She quirked an eyebrow and looked over at him. “Are you now?”

He nodded and started tracing patterns on her tummy with his finger. “I’m even more than that . . . but I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“Spike.” She froze, looking panicked.

He put his finger to her lips. “Sshh.. Not yet. No reason to run scared, luv. Besides, don’t you know that if you run I’d just come find you?”

“Why does that not surprise me?” she asked dryly, the tension leaving her body.

He chuckled. “Because in the short time you’ve known me, you know it’s true.”

She turned on her side to face him, “What’s your story?”

He blinked, “What?”

“Your story. Past relationships, what led you to walk into my place, tell me about yourself Spike. Why do you prefer Spike rather than William?”

“It was a –uh—nickname my father gave me.”

She smiled. “Why?”

“I was always getting into his uh, arrows.”

Her eyebrows flew off her head. “His arrows?”

“He was heavy into archery. And he’s always been my idol. I always got into his ‘stash’, so he nicknamed me Spike.”

“Did you ever hurt yourself?”

He grinned. “Nah. But I did poke my best friend Angel in the ass a few times.”

Buffy giggled. “Spike and Angel huh? Very different.”

“I come from a long line of ‘very different’ people.”

“Do they live in West Athens where you came from?”

“Yes.”

“That it? Any more cute stories of you as a kid? What’s your dad like?”

“He’s a good guy. He’s been through a lot.”

“Oh?”

“Lots of, um, changes.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“I’d rather discuss you,” he smiled and leaned in, pecking her nose.

“Spike, all we do is talk about me. I want to talk about you.”

“But you’re my favorite subject,” he grinned and nuzzled her neck.

“Spike,” she started to protest.

“Kiss me,” he whispered and seconds before covering her lips with his.

********

Buffy marveled at his ability to distract her from everything in the world but him when his lips touched hers. He was such a good kisser. No…good wasn’t strong enough. Perfect. He was a perfect kisser. It was like he knew exactly how she liked to be kissed. And when his tongue met hers in a duel, she heard herself moan, and so drew him closer so that their bodies were pressed together. His hand drifted under her tank and cupped her breast in his hand, his thumb grazing her nipple.

God, how long had it been since she’d been touched? Too long. Much too long. He set her skin ablaze with his tender touch in nanoseconds. She was certain though, that it was not just the fact that she hadn’t had sex in so long she was sure she was a virgin again. No, she was certain instead that it was him. She’d never felt this way with anyone else—this alive, this passionate, this set on fire. It was true she’d been drawn to him since she’d laid eyes on him. And she’d fought it tooth and nail too. But he wouldn’t let her. He was set on chipping those walls she’d erected and my god was he good at it.
All her life all she’d wanted was someone to fight for her. Someone to cherish her the way her father cherished her mother—still. She wanted the burning love they still had. The way they looked at each other as if it were the first time, every time. She wanted that. With Spike, she felt she could have it. Everyone before him was a disappointment; they paled in comparison the blinding sun that was Spike. He outshone them, he surpassed them, he—currently had her tank top over her breasts and was suckling at them.

“Spike,” she gasped.

He stopped and looked up at her. “Yes, kitten?”

“I – I think you should—“

“Stop?”

She nodded and bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered and pulled her tank back over her breasts. He rolled to his side and gathered her in his arms. “I only want you when you’re sure.”

“It’s just that it’s been so long since I . . . since I. . .”

“Ssshhh…kitten, it’s okay. I’ve got you, that’s all you need to remember okay?”

She nodded and he fluttered a kiss across her brow. “Sleep now, luv. Sleep.”

Snuggling into him, she found herself exhausted again. Breaking down walls sure took a lot out of a person.

“Don’t you have anything less revealing?” Spike asked Buffy as he followed her down to the water the next day.

She looked over her shoulder and smirked at him. “No.”

“Maybe we could look into that. Didn’t birds wear those full length bathing suits back in the day? You know, a bathing suit, covering all parts?”

Buffy giggled. “Spike, is my bikini making you nervous?”

“I don’t like other blokes lookin’ at you, kitten,” Spike purred and grabbed her round the waist, bringing her closer to him. “Maybe I should bite you, mark you as mine,” and he leaned in bit down softly on her neck, growling lightly.

She trembled at his words; no one had ever been possessive of her like that before. It was equal parts thrilling and frightening. She did the only thing she could think to do at that moment: cling to him.

Spike drew back and studied her. “You all right?”

“Did you mean it?”

He looked confused, “Mean what?”

She shook her head and shooed him away, “Nothing.” She started wading out in the water, letting the waves lap at her.

Spike was not one to be deterred though –and she should have known better than to think he could be easily put off. He took her hand and kissed it, following her in. “Tell me.”

“Spike—“she sighed.

“Buffy, just tell me.”

“God, you’re impossible!”

He grinned, unrepentantly. “I know. It’s what you like most about me.”

“I don’t know about that,” she muttered. Though, she did like his stubbornness when it came to her. Made her feel as if she were something worth fighting for. He just never gave up on her.

He tugged on her arm.

She looked at him, “Okay, okay. When you said you’d bite to mark me as yours . . . Did you mean it?”

“That I’d bite you?”

“Yeah,” she said uncertainly.

He narrowed his eyes. “Or that you’re mine?”

She averted her eyes and bit her bottom lip.

He tugged her to him and kissed her thoroughly. “What do you think?” he whispered.

She pushed at him lightly, freeing herself. “I’m so pathetic!” she exclaimed and ran into the water with gusto and then diving in.

She kicked and pumped, pushing herself through the water, wanting the salt water to wash away her insecurities and the fear she had that she could most definitely fall in love with Spike – that she already was falling for him-- and lose herself in him. She wanted to just cling to him and never let go and it scared her; scared her because if she clung too hard, he’d grow tired of her and leave her.

Kicking and pumping, she swam hard until her lungs started to burn and she burst through the surface, wiping the water from her eyes so she could see. She couldn’t quite touch, the tips of her toes just grazing the sandy bottom.

Arms came around her and hauled her against a hard chest.

Spike.

He wrapped his arms around her. “I can touch, can you?”

“Just barely.”

“Why do you think you’re pathetic?” he asked huskily.

She paused, trying to find the right words so she wouldn’t scare him off completely.

“You might as well just tell me, luv. You know I’m not going to quit until you do.”

“Because I’m so insecure,” she blurted out.

He tried to spin her around and she braced herself against him to stop him. “No. I – I feel more comfortable not looking at you right now.”

“All right then. What are you insecure?”

She rolled her eyes, “You do remember what I’ve told you about my ex boyfriends right? I was a fool each and every time.”

“It wasn’t you, Buffy. It was them.”

“How do you know? I could have driven them away.”

“By--?”

“By clinging.”

“You think you’re clingy?”

She nodded. “Yes. I think I’m clingy.”

“Not possible,” and she felt him shake his head.

“How the hell would you know?” she demanded.

“Because I’m laying myself out here kitten, giving myself to you—I’m the one that’s clinging and not wanting to let go. You’re the one diving away from me. Except right here; right here where you can’t touch and I can, you need me because I can.”

“I can wade.”

“But for how long until you get tired?”

“Then I could just swim in.”

“You could, but what if you’re too tired from all that wading? And isn’t it more fun out here with someone to share it with? With someone to hold you?”

She nodded, swallowing hard.

“So you see, you can do it on your own, but I’m right here and I’m telling you it’s okay to lean on me when you need me, or just because. You’re not clingy, Buffy. You’re strong and fiercely independent.”

“I ha-have been before when I knew they were leaving me,” Buffy whispered.

“Who doesn’t try to hold onto something they love when they think it’s leaving?”

“Spike—“ she gasped.

“What, Buffy? Tell me,” he whispered.

“I—I want to cling to you.”

He spun her around, his gaze smoldering, and looped her arms around his neck. “Then cling to me, Buffy.”

She kept her gaze on his and reached up to kiss him, wrapping her legs around his waist and she heard him moan as she fell into the kiss with him, letting it take her over. Letting him take her over.

When they split for air, Spike nuzzled the side of her face and made a path to her neck, saying her name reverently.

“How did you happen to come into my life?” she whispered.

He looked down at her, smiling gently, “Magic.”

She smiled, “I like that. Magic. I hope the spell doesn’t end anytime soon.”

“Me neither, Buffy, me neither.”


********

Lying back on the beach, Buffy rolled onto her belly and looked up at Spike who was leaning back on his elbows, gazing down at the surf. He looked over at her and grinned. “What are you thinking kitten?”

“Oh nothing,” she said innocently.

“Balls.”

She laughed, “What does that even mean?”

“It means I know you’re shitting me. What are you thinking?”

“I want you to tell me a story.”

“About?”

“Something from your childhood.”

His grin disappeared. “Why?”

“Because I want to know about you, Spike.”

“You know all you need to know.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Maybe you should stop ‘differing’ with me.”

Raising an eyebrow, Buffy rolled over and started putting her things in the bag they’d brought to the beach.

“Buffy,” Spike started on a slight whine.

“You want me to tell you all this stuff, Spike. But when I ask you a simple question about you, you clam up. How am I supposed to get to know who you are if you won’t share with me?” She stood and grabbed the bag.

“Buffy, don’t go.”

“I don’t want to be around you right now,” Buffy said and stalked off.

Spike sighed heavily and fell onto his back, closing his eyes tightly. Bugger all. Why didn’t he just lie to her? No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t look at her and lie to her.

“Well, isn’t this a fine pickle you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Spike’s eyes flew open and he groaned. “Hi Mom.”

“Don’t ‘Hi’ me. What do you think you’re doing?” Addie, his mother, demanded.

Spike stared up at his mother, all trussed up in her sleek black bathing suit, her delicate features hidden by gigantic black sunglasses. She wore what Spike thought was akin to an umbrella on her head, but was really a ginormous straw hat.

“Are you wearing oil?” Spike asked, noticing how her skin was glistening.

“Well, I am out in the sun,” she said as if he should have known that already.

Spike rolled his eyes at her and sat up.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” she scolded him.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Addie slid her sunglasses to halfway down her nose. “You’re pushing your luck.”

“What are you gonna do? Threaten to put me on the rock with Prometheus again?”

She scowled at him and knelt before him, taking her glasses off and placing them on the blanket. Her blue eyes bore into his. “I’m worried about you,” she said seriously.

Spike started to laugh.

“I don’t know why I bother to try and talk with you.”

“I suppose it’s because you love me.”

She pursed her lips together.

“What?”

“Do you have to talk in that British accent? You’re not British!”

Spike scowled at her. “Dad is, remember?”

Addie rolled her eyes. “You’ve been around enough people that don’t—you know what?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“Why do you torture your poor mother?” she demanded.

“Because I know you mother. You plan to interfere.”

“I’m not here to interfere. I’m here to give you some advice.”

“This should be good,” Spike muttered.

“You’re so fresh!”

“I wonder where I get it from.”

“You know,” she huffed, “You could pretend to be happy to see me.”

Spike sighed heavily. “Mom, I love you, you know I do. But I know you. You were checking up on me. You were snooping on me weren’t you?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Come on, Mom.”

“Fine,” she said, letting out a gust of air. “I visited your uncle and happened to see you in his crystal ball.”

“Meaning, you conjured me up in the crystal ball.”

“I wanted to see how my boy was doing!”

“And? How am I doing?”

His mother looked positively forlorn. “Oh honey, you’ve fallen in love with that girl.”

“I thought something like that would make you happy,” he said dryly.

“How can it make me happy when you’re so miserable?”

“I’m not miserable, mother.”

“I heard you. That vile woman was yelling at you!”

Spike shook his head, “Mom, she yelled at me because she asked me about my childhood and I wouldn’t tell her anything.”

“Why not? You had a wonderful childhood! You’re not going to get into how I coddled you—“ She stopped abruptly and Spike waited for clarity to hit. “Oh.”

“Exactly. ‘Oh.’ How am I supposed to tell Buffy that I’m really immortal, I live on Olympus, and my uncle is the God of Love?”

“Can’t you just … make stuff up?”

Spike sighed, “I’m not a good liar.”

“You never were.” Addie made it sound as if it were a tremendous character flaw.

“It concerns me that you make that sound like a bad thing. Mom, I do love her, that’s the thing. Everyday it gets harder and harder to lie to her. I don’t want to lie to her. I want to. . I want to . . . “

“What honey, what is it that you want?”

“I want to be with her. I want to make her like you made Dad.”

Addie’s crystal blue eyes widened, “You want to make her immortal?”

“Yes, I do,” he said resolutely.

“Oh, honey—“

“Don’t tell me it can’t be done. I know it can be. Dad is proof of that. Hell, so is Aunt Psyche!”

“I know but dear, you were sent here on a job. You’re not the one meant for her. She’s meant to be with another mortal,” she reached out stroked his arm soothingly.

“Then I want to be mortal. I want to be who she’s meant to be with.”

“Spike, dear—“

“I just need some time.”

“Time for what?”

“For her to fall in love with me.”

His mother smiled gently. “Oh honey, I think she already is.”

“Mom, you think everyone is love with me—“

“Can I help it if I think my son is wonderful?”

He smiled at her, “Thanks, Mom.”

“What would you like me to do, honey?”

“Nothing. I want you to go back home and do nothing. You say nothing. Not even to Dad. I don’t need it getting back to Uncle Eros that I’ve fallen in love with my charge and want to make her like me. That’s the last thing I need. He might take me off the case, wipe out our memories,” Spike shuddered at the thought, “I couldn’t take that.”

His mother patted his knee affectionately, “I won’t say a word.”

“I mean it mom. You can’t say a word.”

She put her sunglasses back on. “You really have no faith in me at all.”

“I know you.”

“Give me a kiss now. Your father thinks I’m out having lunch with Artemis. Now talk about a woman who needs a man—“

“Mom,” Spike sighed.

“Fine, fine. Come on, give me kiss.”

Quickly, Spike leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Goodbye mother.”

“I love you dear, be careful.” And with that, she was gone.

“And I want another woman to please in my life,” Spike muttered. “And I better go about making my other woman happy before I am sent out to the rocks to have my liver poked out on daily basis.”

********

This was one of those days when Buffy wished she had a girlfriend to talk to. Just someone to vent to about what a pain in the ass men were. All she wanted was to learn about the man she was – she was --- she screamed into her pillow—the man she was falling in love with. Oh hell, who was she kidding? She was more than halfway there already.

How the freaking hell had he managed to do that?

She blamed him, naturally. His stubbornness, his persistence, his way of seeing into her soul, of knowing her heart and the uncanny way he had of breaking down all her barriers, and while she felt so overwhelmed and frightened by it . . . it also felt so freeing. She felt with Spike that she could just let go. She’d never just let go. She’d always held on and tried to be what she needed to be for every man she’d been with. Tried to be what they wanted her to be, what she thought they wanted her to be. How was it possible that her whole business was setting couples up and emphasizing to them that they just needed to be themselves when she herself failed to do the same thing?

Until Spike.

He got it all, the poor guy. All the insecurities she’d already had since, say, adolescence topped off with all the insecurities she’d accumulated from past relationships. And he just took it. He took it all and was still there.

She shook her head; it did not excuse his refusal to tell her anything about himself. She bit her lip and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, a horrible thought entering her mind.

The door flew open and Spike sauntered in. “Buffy—“

“Spike, wait,” she said and held up her hand.

He took pause. “What?”

“If you were abused, you don’t have to tell me. I understand how something like that can be hard –“

“Abused?” he asked, knitting his brows together.

“Yes, you know, by your parents.”

“Buffy, I wasn’t abused--“

“And if you think you have to lie to me to protect yourself, I want to let you know that you don’t have to.” She took a deep breath. Take the leap, she told herself. Do it! “I’m falling in love with you anyway.”

Spike froze. “Y—you what?”

Buffy swallowed, feeling the need to back pedal. “I uh—that came out and I didn’t—“

“Don’t tell me you didn’t mean it, please,” Spike whispered, shutting his eyes.

“No, not that—“ Buffy started and he held up a hand to stop her.

“Wait. Just hold on a bloody—Buffy. I don’t want you tell me you’re falling for me because you think I might possibly have been abused and you feel sorry for me.”

Her eyes widened in horror, “No! Spike I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Think about that one for a second.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not a child.”

“Never said you were—seems we’re both saying things we don’t quite mean, yeah?”

Buffy sighed and climbed out of the bed. She took a deep breath and stood before him. “Spike, I care a lot about you. I . . . I’m . . . “ she started to make like a guppy.

Spike reached out and took her hand in his gently, and kissed her palm. “It’s okay, Buffy. You can say it.”

“More scary when it’s . . . “

“Real?”

“Yes,” she said apologetically. She took another deep breath. “I’m falling in love with you Spike,” she said in a rush of breath.

He beamed at her. “Say it again.”

She furrowed her brow, “Why?”

Spike laughed and tugged on her arm. “Please?”

“I’m falling in love with you,” she said this time, more resolutely.

“Can you look me in the eyes and say it?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is this part of your psychoanalyzing crap you like to do to me all the time?”

“Yes, it is. Humor me.”

“I’m falling in love with you, Spike.”

“It’s also because, God, I love hearing that come out of your mouth,” Spike rasped passionately and tugged her into his arms, kissing her ravenously. When they broke apart for air, Spike rested his forehead against hers. “Buffy.”

“Hmmm?” she murmured, unable to think coherently at the moment.

“I can say with absolute certainty that I am desperately, hopelessly and deeply in love with you.”

Immediately her eyes welled up in tears.

“Buffy?” Spike asked, concerned.

“I’m just,” she pressed her face into his chest. “Those words fill me with dread and joy at the same time. Does that make sense?”

Spike gathered her close and held on to her tightly, “Yes it does. It makes me happy to hear you say it if that helps.”

“You have the power to break my heart now,” Buffy murmured, looking up at me. “Please don’t break it,” she begged. “I could stand it from the others; I don’t think I could stand it from you.”

“I won’t break your heart Buffy. I promise,” he whispered fiercely.

She shook her head, tears running down her cheeks unchecked, “You can’t promise something like that. You can’t even tell me about your family!”

Spike took a deep breath. “Buffy—“

“Despite that, I’m falling anyway,” she told him softly.

“I won’t ever let you go,” he vowed passionately. “Never. I won’t let you fall alone. I’m right here to catch you. Always, baby.”
“I’m going to be difficult,” she warned.

He chuckled, “I expect no less.”

“I’m going to be a bitch and I’m going to get angry and scared—“

“If you’re trying to scare me, Buffy—“

“I’m not; I’m just being honest with you. You know by now that I’m far from easy.”

He reached out and caressed the side of her face, looking at her tenderly. “We’re in this together.”

She nodded, “Okay.”

“And you know, you just proved me right.”

“About?” she asked, her eyebrows knitting in confusion.

He smiled tenderly. “You have a big heart Buffy Summers and you are able to love.”

She smiled back, “And I said it first.”

He chuckled, “Will wonders never cease!”

She playfully hit him.

“Though that could have to do with the fact that you like to be first in everything,” he teased.

She laughed, then, “Spike, about your family—“

He took a deep breath. “Buffy, I want to tell you everything. Especially now.”

She bit her lip. “I understand that people have dysfunctional families Spike. Every family is a little dysfunctional. I’ve just never seen someone – unless they have been abused – be filled with such dread and apprehension to tell someone—especially someone they claim to love—about them. I have to say, I almost don’t want you to tell me.”

“I have to though,” Spike said, leading her to a chair and sitting down on it, settling her down on his lap. “It’s . . . complicated Buffy.”

“Oh God,” her eyes widened.” Your father is really your uncle.”

Spike laughed, “No.”

“Your mother is really your aunt?”

“No, however both my uncle and aunt are key to this story.”

“How so?” she asked curiously.

“They can . . . let’s just say that they have the ability to decide our fate.”

Buffy started to get up from his lap and he held her there. “Just stay with me, kitten.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Buffy, do you believe in Gods and Goddesses?”

She blinked. “Come again?”

“Do you believe—“

”Yeah, I heard you the first time. Trying to figure out—I’ve got it. You’re heavily religious people. Oh! Oh! You’re pagans. Spike that doesn’t bother me. Truthfully, I lean toward those kinds of beliefs than most of the organized religions out there—“

He shook his head, “That’s not quite it Buffy. Close, but not quite. Just answer me, do you believe in Gods and Goddesses?”

“Like . . . Zeus and Hera kinds of Gods and Goddesses?” she asked carefully.

“Exactly that. Do you?”

“I—truthfully, I don’t know. I’ve read about them in school and stuff but it’s not like I’ve ever come in contact with them and can I just tell you how bizarre this conversation is?”

“Do you believe in Eros?”

“The God of Love?”

Spike nodded.

Buffy nodded thoughtfully. “I guess so. I mean, I kind of feel about him the way I feel about Zeus and Hera. I’ve read about him, but never had direct connection with him or anything.” She turned wide eyes to him. “Is this part of the test? If I don’t believe in the Greek Gods, I’m not fit to be with you?”

Spike shook his head, smiling, “Well, it’s not that exactly,” he said slowly.

“Then what is it exactly?”

“Buffy how would you feel if I told you that my uncle is Eros, and his wife, my aunt, is none other than Psyche?”

“I would say that perhaps you’re the one we should have been psychoanalyzing.”

“Buffy, it’s true. Eros is my uncle and Psyche is my aunt. My mother is not a Goddess, but she was made immortal by my aunt to keep her family together. And my father, he was chosen by my mother for her mate and he was made immortal. They made me, which makes me immortal.” He took a deep breath while Buffy stared at him, expressionless. “Buffy, I love you with all that I am and I want to spend eternity with you. I want to make you immortal so that we can be together forever. What do you say?”

Buffy stared at him and blinked. “Oh my God.”

“Okay, I wasn’t sure how you’d take to being immortal, so I’m willing to become mortal in order to stay with you. Cause you know I would do anything to be with you Buffy, I love you—“

She pushed at him, effectively making him free her and she bounded to her feet, shaking her head. “I knew it.”

Spike stood, eyes widening, “You knew?”

Buffy turned, “Knew what?”

”About my heritage.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not sure if that means you think I did a bad job of keeping it secret or—“

“Spike, stop!” she nearly shouted and Spike froze. “You escaped from a mental institution didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t have any identification for so long. That’s why you haven’t wanted to talk about where you’ve come from and what you were doing before you strolled into my business. Just admit it.”

Spike looked hurt by the accusation, God help him, he actually looked hurt—as if she were making false accusations and incriminating him into something that was completely false.

“No, Buffy,” he said, shaking his head. “I was . . . this is hard.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that! Spike, you can’t expect me to – Do you really want to be with me or are you just making this shit up to get away from me?”

“What? No!” he stalked towards her and she held up her hands urgently.

“Don’t come near me,” she said.

“Buffy, how can you think I’m lying?”

“Spike, how can you possibly think I’d believe this outrageous story? You’re . . . completely crazy.”

“Don’t you dare call my boy crazy!”

Suddenly a woman was in the room with them wearing a long white flowing skirt and a gauzy pink tank top with lace edging. Her blond hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and her blue eyes were blazing with venom. She was pointing a finger at Buffy and Buffy was beginning to feel dizzy.

“Where did you come from?” she squeaked out.

“Mom, you were supposed to butt out!” Spike barked at the woman.

“How can I butt out when she’s attacking you this way?” The woman asked innocently to Spike and then turned back to Buffy and hissed, “Vile mortal.”

”Hey! Don’t you dare call her that,” Spike yelled. “You’re talking to my future wife.”

Now Buffy felt cold and all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears and everything was starting to blur and spin. Her only thought was of how that woman had simply appeared before she tumbled to the floor.

********

Buffy’s eyes opened slowly and she blinked up at the ceiling fan and shut her eyes again. That was not her ceiling fan. That was the hotel ceiling fan. She popped her eyes open again. Okay, so she wasn’t home, she was still at the hotel in Kauai and vacation was not a dream. That didn’t mean that the other stuff wasn’t a dream though. She didn’t remember falling asleep after her and Spike had talked—because it didn’t happen. Because that was a dream. What really had happened was she was mad at Spike for not telling her about himself so she’d come up to get away from him and had fallen asleep. Yes, that’s what happened.

“You’re awake,” Spike’s voice drifted to her.

She bent her head slightly and watched him walk across the room, concern evident on his gorgeous face. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

She nodded, “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.”

He shook his head, “No, Buffy it’s okay, I understand,” he said and took her hand in his.

“I just want to learn about you Spike. I want to know about your family and your childhood. So when I push you for information it’s only because I want to know all there is to know about--“

“Buffy,” he interrupted, his eyebrows furrowing, “What was the last thing you remember?”

She swallowed, “Uh, we were on the beach and I got mad at you –and why are you shaking your head?” She was beginning to get afraid. Again.

“Is the mortal up?” A woman’s voice broke through the room.

Buffy’s eyes snapped to the door. Oh God. It wasn’t a dream. Scurrying away from Spike, and tugging her hand back, Buffy moved to the head of the bed and stared at them wild-eyed.

“You remember now?” Spike asked dryly.

“I wanted it to be a dream.”

“It’s not,” he said, shaking his head. He looked over his shoulder at his mother, “Mom, can you please leave us alone for a few?”

The woman frowned at him and then walked out the room, huffing. Spike turned back to
Buffy. “Buffy, luv, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. I’ve finally done it.”

“Done what?”

“Lost it. I’m crazy. I’m definitely committed now.”

“Buffy, you’re not crazy. What I told you is true. You know it, deep down you know it,” he told her gently.

Buffy shook her head furiously, “No, I’ve cracked up. I’m having . . . delusions. I’ve heard of it happening, I just never thought it would happen to me. And on vacation of all things—Oh God! Am I really on vacation or am I in some padded room? When will the visions stop! Am I on drugs? Where’s my doctor? You don’t exist, you’re not real. I want to get well again, you need to go. Go!” she yelled at him and buried her face in her hands.

“Buffy!” Spike shouted to get her attention.
Her head snapped up and he grabbed her arm, pulling her off the bed. “Buffy, you’re not crazy. I’m real. You’re real. Everything is real. I’ll prove it to you.”

“How?” Buffy whispered.

“How indeed?” A male voice said.

Not another one! Buffy screamed inside her head. She shut her eyes tightly.

“Uncle,” she heard Spike say.

“I wager you’re going to be needing my help?” the man said.

“Yes, Uncle, I’m sorry—“

“Just what were you thinking?”

Buffy covered her eyes with her hands and parted them slightly, opening her eyes and peering through the slits her fingers made. It was a move she adopted when watching scary movies. There before them was a man with a golden aura surrounding him. Looking at him, she felt her body relax and she dropped her hands to stare openly at him. He was so handsome he couldn’t be real. He could see some similarities between him and Spike. She had always thought Spike the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on and wondered how someone as gorgeous as Spike could even be real. Then, her eyes caught on to something that nearly knocked her back. Wings. White, fluffy
wings slightly spread as this man Spike called ‘Uncle’ stood before them in all his golden glory with his hands on his slender hips and a white loin cloth across his waist. He did not look very happy. On closer inspection though, as Buffy studied him, she found a
slight spark of amusement in his blue eyes. Slight, but there.

She looked over at Spike who puffed out his chest and looked at his uncle with determination. “I love her uncle, and I want to be with her.”

“You weren’t supposed to fall in love with your charge, Spike,” his uncle said.

“I couldn’t help it.”

His uncle rolled his eyes.

“Charge?” Buffy piped in.

The two looked at her as if they had just noticed she was in the room.

Spike rushed in, “Buffy, I was going to tell you everything.”

”Have you thought this completely through?” his uncle demanded.

“I have,” Spike said firmly. “Uncle, I know I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her, that I was supposed to just help her but I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with her.”

“Would somebody please tell me just what the freaking hell is going on around here?” Buffy yelled in frustration. “If I’m not cracking up,” she said, her voice calming, and pointed at Golden Man with Wings. “If I’m not cracking up, then who are you?”

Golden Man with Wings smiled. “Spike already told you dear, didn’t he? I’m Eros, The God of Love. Spike is my nephew.”

Buffy shook her head. “I’m not going to faint, I’m not going to faint,” she repeated like a mantra.

“You mean again?” Eros rumbled with laughter in his voice. “I’m sincerely glad to hear it.”

“You—you saw that?” Buffy asked.

“I did. I noticed my sister-in-law had taken flight down here to see her son when I looked in my crystal ball—“

”Crystal Ball. You have a crystal ball?” Buffy asked.

Eros nodded, “Yes, I have a crystal ball.”

“And I’m not cracking up?”

“No, you are not my dear Buffy. You are of sound mind.” He frowned at Spike. “My nephew has a knack for stirring up trouble.”

“Why are you here? Why are you all here?” Buffy asked.
“Now those are the right questions to be asking,” Eros said and smiled at her. Then he looked over at Spike. “I’ll leave that up to Spike.”

Buffy turned to Spike. “For some bizarre reason, I’m going to try and listen to you with an open mind though I can tell you that so many parts of me are warring over even considering this might be true. Before the parts take over that want me to drive myself to the fifth floor of the hospital, I think now would be a good time to explain yourself.”

Spike nodded glumly, “I think you should sit.”

”I’ll stand.”

“I’ll be in with your mother,” Eros said and disappeared.

Buffy closed her eyes, and then after a deep breath, popped them open and leveled her gaze to Spike. “I’m listening.”

Buffy looked around the room. “Are any more going to be popping in?”

“Any more?” he asked, confused.

“Your uh, relatives.”

“Unless my Dad pops in—“

“Jesus,” Buffy swore. “I got it! I’ve been set up. This is some kind of Candid Camera thing, right? I mean, the show has been off the air for years, but they’re doing a return
and—“she stopped when she noticed Spike shaking his head slowly. “Damn.”

She looked at him, gesturing weakly with her hand, “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

“This is hard.”

“You’re telling me,” she snorted.

“Okay,” he started and began pacing. “See, my uncle is—“

“The God Of Love, I got that part.”

“So you believe?”

“I’m not sure what I believe. I’ve always thought of myself as somewhat scientific. You know, needing concrete evidence to back things up.”

“You can’t really do that when matchmaking can you?”

She smiled at his astuteness. “No, you can’t. That’s more of a gut feeling.”

“And what is your gut telling you now?”

She frowned, “Not a whole hell of a lot. It’s kind of twisted in knots right now.”

“Buffy—“ he said coming toward her.

“Don’t,” she said holding up her hand. “I’m just—God, Spike, it’s not everyday that you’re told your boyfriend is immortal. Or that his uncle is Eros. Or hey, that he wants you to be immortal too—“

“We can work around that. I’m willing to become human if you can’t stand the idea of becoming immortal.”

“Such a giver,” she quipped.

“I’m willing to do what it takes, Buffy.”

“So you’ve said. So, let’s say I believe in all this,” she said gesturing toward him. “Why are you here?”

“You see, I’ve been working for my uncle shooting arrows.”

“Arrows? Oh. Yes, that’s right. Eros shoots love arrows. Whoever gets hit with the arrow falls instantly in love with their intended, right?”

“Right. It’s not always easy though. Like you, we have to make sure that the couple we’re setting up is ready for the relationship with their soul mate. We have to watch a lot of mortals stumbling around making bad choices for themselves and then when they’ve had enough—and when we’ve had enough of watching them suffer without their True Love-- we come in and make the match. Sometimes we have to appeal to the other Gods now and then too.”

“Why?”

“Well, if say one person is in Detroit and the other is in California, we have to sometimes move people around to be in the position to be with their soul mate and get, well, shot. So, sometimes we have to speed up certain processes to get them at the right place and time. Like say, a new job. Sometimes it’s something as simple as a vacation or business trip—or just getting them down at the corner hot dog stand to meet their match.”

“And here I thought it was all based on free will. You Gods have more say in our lives than I thought.”

“I’m not a God. I’m just a shooter. And there is free will Buffy. It’s kind of like . . . an intervention.” His eyes lit up at the analogy. “Sometimes the Gods have to step in and help now and again; especially when a mortal is asking for help and needs direction. They like mortals to help themselves, but sometimes they need a little shove in the right direction. It’s the whole basis for faith isn’t it? To believe in something greater than yourself and to be able to lean on that for direction when you need it?”

“Yes, you’re absolutely right,” Buffy said and sat down on the bed wondering where her beliefs lied at the moment.

“And the business of love is the hardest task of them all.” He sat down next to her. “My friend Angel told me before I left that making matches wasn’t easy, and I thought he was full of it. I wanted to be like my Dad and be able to make the matches.”

“Your dad works for Eros too?”

Spike nodded. “Those who work for my uncle start off as shooters and work their way up to matchmakers. My Dad expressed an interest when he became immortal for my mother—“

“Your father was mortal?” Her eyebrows flew off her head.

“Yes. My mother saw him in a crystal ball and fell instantly in love with him. She came down to Earth and pretended she was mortal. They fell in love and she told him the truth. He was much like you in being a little wary—“

“Little?”

Spike smiled, “Okay, a lot. But he eventually believed in her and he told her that he’d do whatever he could to be with her, and she made the pledge to her sister—“

“Psyche?”

Spike nodded, “Yes, my aunt. Psyche spoke with Eros and, well, here I am.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No, it’s just me. So far anyway. My Dad’s been wanting more lately. He said he’s working on my mother.”

“I know I’m going to regret asking this, but how old is your dad?”

“Oh, he’s not that old. He’s one hundred and forty-five. Though he doesn’t look a day over forty.”

“He was forty when your mom met him?”

Spike nodded.

“So he’s been immortal for one hundred and five years?”

“Yes.”

“And how does he like it?”


“He loves it. He says he’s never felt better. He loves to watch the world progress; he’s very scientific like you.”

“I bet.”

“He gets a kick out of helping some of the Gods lend a hand in guiding humans to make inventions and discoveries. And, at the same time, he keeps a lot of his mortal qualities. I learned to cook from him. I learned about the world not only from watching it, but from him. He felt it important to teach me about it. He figured if I’m going to one day make matches, I needed to know what humans were like and what the world consisted of. It’s not wise to be part of helping the human world and not know anything about it.”

“I can only imagine,” Buffy murmured and lay back on the bed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “So, you’ve been unhappy shooting arrows.”

”Yes. I wanted to just hurry up and make matches. My friend Angel—“

“Actual Angel?”

”No. His mother is Iris; he works for her.”

”Refresh my memory.”

“Goddess of the Rainbow. She’s a messenger namely to Zeus and Hera. She’s very kind and gentle. Everyone loves her because she has such a gentle, understanding nature. I personally think Angel would be great at matchmaking but he loves what he does for his mother. That day before I came to you, I was telling him that I wanted to find someone for myself. I was going through a bit of a dry spell,” he admitted sheepishly.

Buffy couldn’t help it. She laughed and sat up. “Your uncle is the God of Love and you were going through a dry spell. Come on, you’re pulling my leg.”

He looked at her indignantly, “I am not pulling your leg. I . . . I wasn’t happy with anyone on Olympus.”

“You’re surrounded by Goddesses!”

He shook his head, “Not for me, Buffy. Being involved with a God is not all its cracked up to be. They’re very busy and can sometimes come off as a little self absorbed because of it.”

“Oh,” Buffy said, slightly disoriented. “Consider me informed that a God is self-absorbed. I never would have guessed.”

“Very high maintenance, but that’s just between you and me,” he grinned and nudged her with his elbow. Apparently, her sarcasm had been lost on him.

“Of course,” Buffy murmured, shutting her eyes.

“I confided to Angel that day that I wanted to come to Earth the way my Mom had and find a mortal like she had found my Dad. I was feeling restless about not being able to have someone of my own and I was convinced that the one I was meant for was not on Olympus,” he said pointedly and her eyes flew open and met his.

She gulped. “Oh?”

”I was restless with everything. With not being able to make matches, with not having someone to call my own,” he took on a faraway expression, remembering. “And Angel told me relationships were hard work. That making matches wasn’t just about putting two people together and shooting. He said it was easy to fall in love, but not to stay in love. He was going on about how you had to take in account friendship, compatibility, and passion. He said it wasn’t all cut and dry and I was so convinced that it was.” He shook his head. “Then I met you and saw how much work you put into making matches and realized he was right.”

”Get to how you met me, please,” she demanded, sitting up.

Spike took a deep breath. “Right. So, Eros asked to see me and when I did, he told me about you.”

She pointed at herself, “Me?” she squeaked.

He smiled softly, “Yes, you. He’d taken notice of your work, Buffy. He was impressed by you.”

“Eros was impressed by me?” she looked incredulous.

“Very impressed by you. However—“

”Here it comes,” she said dryly.

“He’d taken notice that you were going through a dry spell of your own.”

Buffy closed her eyes and flopped back on the bed. “Must have been pretty bad for a God to notice.”

“You’re in the business of love, Buffy, how could he not notice?”

She turned her head slightly and looked at him.” But he did like my work until then?”

Spike nodded, “Loved your work. You were helping us, Buffy.”

“Wow,” she breathed. She sat back up. “So then, if you weren’t making matches, then how come he sent you to me?”

Spike smiled softly, “I think he wanted to teach me what Angel had been trying to tell me. My uncle is perceptive; I think he knew how restless I was feeling. I think he figured we could help each other with making matches. I’d always been the impulsive, follow my gut type and you . . . you aren’t. Put us together and, as Willow said, we make a great team.”

She nodded slowly. “Until you had to leave that is.”

His smile dropped. “I suppose that was the plan.”

”You suppose it was? Of course it was. He surely hadn’t expected you to stay here forever.”

“Well, I put a wrench in his plan didn’t I? I fell in love with you.”

Buffy sighed heavily and got up from the bed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m feeling . . . invaded.”

“Invaded?”

”Played with might be a better term. Eros, the God of Love, sends you to me to help my failing business and then he planned for you to leave. You’re saying he put me with you to teach you about the complexity of human relationships and to help me follow my gut again. He knew we’d make a great--” She stopped abruptly and her eyes narrowed. Spike’s eyes widened and he bolted up from the bed. Spinning on heel, she stalked to the door and flung it open.

Spike was on her heels. He moved quickly around Buffy and stood before his uncle who had been watching TV with his mother. Eros, noticing the urgency on Spike’s face stood, a small smile curling his lips.

“You set us up, didn’t you?” Spike demanded. “Buffy’s my match isn’t she?”

“What do you think?” Eros asked him.

“Can’t you just be straight with me? Just tell me Uncle, please.”

“Well, you’ve figured out so much so far, I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, “Honestly, what is it with you Gods? You never just give answers do you? You give ‘signs’ that are not always clear. You’re kind of sneaky you know that? It’s annoying. You can never just be straight with us; you’ve got us mortals rushing around like chickens with our heads cut off, running into that thing or the other. Why can’t you ever just tell us what we need to know?”

Eros smiled warmly at her. “How will you ever learn anything if we give you the answers all the time?”

Buffy crossed her arms across her chest. “Yeah, that’s always the reasoning behind making us miserable isn’t it? To learn something.”

Eros smiled at Spike, “I really like her.”

Spike eyed him warily, “I do too. You’re not going to tell me are you?”

“What do you think?”

Spike threw up his hands. “Stop saying that!”

“You know, I remember the myths—“ Buffy started and Eros shot her a look of disapproval. “Sorry,” she quickly covered, “But I know the story of you and your wife. How much did you like Mommy Dearest playing you? Not much, right? So how do you think we feel?”

Eros shrugged, “Ah, well, I don’t think you need an answer from me. I think you know the answer.” He looked at Spike, “Don’t you Spike? Don’t you feel it?”

Spike stared at his uncle and then looked to Buffy, “Yeah, I do feel it.”

“Oh for the love of Olympus,” Spike’s mother muttered, “You are telling me that you set my boy up with her?”

“Addie,” Eros started sternly.

“Mother,” Spike jumped in just as stern. “Don’t start. You’re not even supposed to be here!”

“Honestly, Eros, if you’re going to set my boy up you could let a mother know,” Addie said to Eros, hands on her hips. “But no, instead you snatch him away from me—“

“I wasn’t snatched mother. He gave me the option to go and I took it.”

“Of course you took it. You do everything your uncle tells you! You never listen to me, your mother, the one who gave birth to you!”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Mom, go home.”

“Yes, please, do come home,” a deep, British voice – that did not belong to anyone in the room said.

Buffy looked over to see a tall, ruggedly handsome man with brown hair and scattered gray with warm brown eyes frowning at Spike’s mother, Addie. He was dressed like a typical ‘mortal’, complete with blue jeans, a t shirt and sandals. Buffy let out a sigh and sat down on the couch. She looked up at Spike. “Let me guess. Your Dad.”

Spike nodded, looking at her apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Oh don’t apologize. I figure it’s par for the course don’t you? Your Dad was the only one missing.”

Spike’s eyes widened. “Oh don’t say that. There’s my aunt and Aphrodite—“

Buffy held up her hand, “Say no more.”

“You’re taking this well now,” Spike said brightly, hopefully.

“What choice do I have? If there’s a chance I might really be going round the bend, I might as well just accept my fate.”

Spike smiled, “You’re not going round the bend, Buffy.”

“This,” Addie gestured to Buffy in disgust, looking at her husband, “Is who your son has chosen.”

“Well, Uncle Eros kind of set us up, mum,” Spike told her.

Addie ignored him and kept her focus on her husband, “Can you believe it?”

“You told me you were going out with Artemis,” Spike’s father said to her.

“I lied,” Addie said with a shrug.

“No kidding.”

“Dad, this is Buffy Summers,” Spike cut in politely.

The man came over and extended a hand to Buffy to shake. Buffy stood and took her hand, “Nice to meet you Miss Summers,” he said graciously, “You can call me Giles.”
Buffy smiled, liking Spike’s father instantly. There was something genuine and warm about him. And real. Down – to –Earth, which was funny considering.

“Nice to meet you Giles. I’m Buffy, the mortal.”

“Oh fine, take his side over mine,” Addie grumbled when Giles chuckled at Buffy’s introduction of herself.

Giles looked warily at his wife, “I’m not ‘taking’ a side, dear. I’m being a gentleman.”

“And the next thing you’re going to tell me is that I should be a gentleman too, right?” Addie exclaimed crossly.

Giles blinked behind his wire rim glasses, “Well no dear, I won’t tell you to be a gentleman.”

Buffy giggled, muffling the sound behind her hand, looking away when Addie shot her a glare. Eros, she heard, was chuckling. Though he made no qualms about it.

Spike just looked at his father helplessly, “Can you just please take her out of here Dad?”

Giles patted his son on the back, “Happy to, son. Though I do wish to hear more about what is happening. Think I might come back later and we can have a chat?”

Spike nodded gratefully.

Giles smiled at him and then turned to his wife, his expression no nonsense. “I think it’s time we left. It appears Eros, our son, and Buffy have some talking to do. I really doubt you’re helping matters.”

“Rupert--!” Addie exclaimed.

“And I highly doubt Artemis would be pleased to hear you used her to come down to Earth,” Giles told her, peering at her over his glasses.

Addie pouted, “Fine. I’m coming. But I will be back,” she said by way of warning.

“We know, dear,” Giles told her calmly and took her hand.

Buffy was amazed at the exchange between the two. They seemed polar opposites of each other. It was on the tip of her tongue to say ‘And your father chose to be immortal to be with her forever?’ She knew however that would get her in a whole heap of trouble with Spike’s mother and she was already in a whole heap of trouble with the woman already. Not that she should care. Not at all. But she did, and that was disturbing her.

This was crazy!

Addie studied her son with narrowed eyes, “I’ll be back,” she said, apparently feeling the need to warn him.

“But not without Dad next time,” Spike told her.

Addie huffed at him and in a blink, they were gone.

“She’s um, she’s a . . . “ Buffy trailed off. “A firecracker.”

Spike laughed, “That’s a nice way of putting it. She can be a right bitch.”

“Spike!” Eros scolded him, but there was laughter in his eyes, and he was smiling.

Spike shrugged and reached for Buffy, taking her hand and pulling her to him. “So, uncle, you want to explain yourself now?”

“Not really,” Eros said smoothly. “You’ve figured it all out haven’t you?”

“How did you know?” Spike asked him softly. “How did you know Buffy, a mortal, would be the one?”

Eros grinned, “I am the God of Love, my boy. It’s my job to make matches and to see what others can’t.”

“But—“

“The logistics aren’t important. Never are really when it comes to love. Isn’t that right, Buffy?” Eros said, looking at Buffy and smiling. And she noted when he smiled, he positively shone.
Buffy nodded slowly, “Something like that.”

“I believe the two of you must have some talking to do. I will be back later. With your father and without your mother.”

“Yeah, right. Good luck with that,” Spike muttered.

Eros grinned, “Have some faith, my boy. I have ways of making your mother obey.”

“Tying her to a rock with Prometheus? She’s awfully fond of threatening me with that.”

Eros let out a loud belly laugh and it seemed the room shook, Buffy noted with amazement. “I didn’t think of that, but I will now,” and in an instant he was gone.

Spike looked down at Buffy. “So . . .”

Buffy nodded, “Indeed.”

“You have my father’s approval,” Spike said lightly.

“Seems there’s more to think about than whether or not the family accepts me, don’t you think?”

Spike nodded solemnly, “I know.”

Buffy sighed and freed herself from his grasp. Settling back onto the couch, she patted the seat next to her. “So, why don’t we start talking about those options we need to talk about?”

“We’re going to talk about our options?” Spike asked, clearly bewildered.

“Well, yeah,” Buffy said as if he should know this already. “We’ve got things to discuss and figure out, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to, I mean, you were thinking I was nuts a minute ago.”

Buffy smiled. “Oh I still think your nuts. For that matter, so am I. But hey, seems I’ve just learned something new about myself: the crazier things get, the more rational I am. Go fig.”

Spike chuckled and sat down next to her on the couch. “So, we have two options.”

“One is, I become immortal and the other is that you become mortal?”

“Yes.”

“Is that something you’re willing to do?”

Spike cupped the side of her face in one hand and gazed at her tenderly. “For you, I’d do anything, Buffy. Even walk across hot coals if I knew you’d be on the other side.”

Placing her hand over his, Buffy smiled. “Thank you.”

“No, luv. Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“You’re letting me in.”

“Finally, right?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Spike said, grinning.

Buffy chuckled. “So--”

“Pet, before we start, there is something I need to tell you.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “There’s more? God, now what? You going to tell me you have puppies for cousins or something?” She paled. “A harem. You have a harem don’t you?”

“No way! You think the nephew of the God of Love is going to have a harem? True love, remember? That’s what it’s all about. You can’t have true love with a harem. Scattering your affections all about…just wouldn’t work. Plus it’d be exhausting to have to satisfy all those women. I could chafe!”

Buffy laughed out loud, not so much in reaction to what he was saying but the way he was saying it. He was truly trying to work that scenario out in his mind. The look of disgust was priceless. Now how couldn’t she hold onto him? What guy wouldn’t want a harem? And here Spike was completely put off by the idea.

“You’re pretty incredible, you know that?” Buffy told him in complete honesty and affection.

He smiled. “Funny, I think the same about you.”

“So, what is this thing you have to tell me?”

Now he appeared nervous, biting his lip and fidgeting his hands in his lap. “This trip we’re on?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said slowly.

“I kind of tricked you into coming.”

She stared at him, “Tricked me how?”

“I knew you wouldn’t come with me if I just asked so…so I had my uncle work his mojo on you so you’d agree to come.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Spike!” she exclaimed and jumped up.

Spike stood, “I know, luv, I know. It was wrong of me and you have no idea how much I hated having to do it and I never would have done it if I’d known you would have just come with me. You needed a break, Buffy.”

“That’s not an excuse!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

Buffy shook her head. “Have you performed any other Jedi mind tricks that I need to know about?”

“No, luv, no uh, Jedi mind tricks—what is that?”

She couldn’t help the smile that came. “So part of studying humans did not include movies?”

“Not many.”

“Oh well, not important right now. There were no other tricks?”

“No other tricks,” he held up his hands. “I swear. Buffy, you don’t know how hard it was for me to do that and to keep it from you. To keep all of this from you. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I didn’t feel I could and now that I know that it was all a set – up…it’s all truths from here on out.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Now what?”

“What would you like to do, luv?”

“I want…can we get some air? Maybe go for a walk on the beach or something and talk?”

“Yes,” Spike nodded, beaming, “Let’s.”

********

“What about my parents?” Buffy mused out loud to Spike as they strolled hand in hand down the beach, the waves swirling around their feet and lapping at their ankles.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this immortality gig…say I decide to do it. What about them? I don’t know if I could watch them die knowing I have forever looming before me. And forever? I mean…that’s a long time. Do I want to live forever?”

“It’s not so bad.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Well not for you! You’ve been doing it for—how old are you anyway?”

“One hundred and twenty.”

“Cradle robber,” and then it hit her. “My God! You’re over a century old? Could I…could I do that?”

“I wish I could answer that for you, pet, but I can’t. Only you can answer that.”

“And would you really want to be mortal? I mean…don’t you hate the taste of it you have so far?”

Spike shrugged. “It’s not such a big deal, I reckon. I’d still have my family, though I probably wouldn’t see them as much, I’d have you and the only real difference is that one day I’d die and I’d be on Earth instead of Olympus.”

Buffy stopped walking and looked up at him. “That’s what I need to do.”

“What’s that, love?”

“I need to see Olympus. I need to see it so I’d …I don’t know…know better, I guess?”

“I think that can be arranged,” Spike said smoothly.

Buffy chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Could my parents become immortal with me if I chose to do that?”

“Buffy.”

“Yes?”

“Do me a favor, luv. Make the choice for you not for me, okay? Do it because you feel its right and its what you want to do. You’ve done far too much for those losers in the past, I don’t want to make you do something you’re not sure of.”

“But I don’t want you to do something you’re not sure of, either.”

“Buffy, you just got all this literally dumped on you in a short amount of time. No decision has to be made right now, okay? There is no deadline we have to meet, at least none that I’m aware of. Eros wanted you with me, Buffy, and he knows that these things take time, and I’m sure he’s well aware of what you have to think about and handle.”

“Spike…do you think he shot us? I mean, I don’t want this to be fake or anything--”

“Buffy, for one thing, none of what Eros does is fake. He just makes it so that you can see clearer your true love, your soul mate in another. When your heart and your soul recognize its match in another that is what it means to be ‘shot’ by Eros’ arrow. For second…No, I don’t think he did shoot us. I think we saw it already without an aid – don’t you think?”

Buffy smiled, leaned up and kissed him. “Totally. So…when can we visit your home?”

“Uncle, if you can hear me, Buffy wants to see Olympus,” Spike called out when the pair had returned to their hotel. He looked at Buffy. “You sure you want to do this now?”

Buffy nodded and said resolutely, “I’m sure. No time like the present, right?”

Spike smiled. “The many facets of Buffy Summers. You’re like a woman on a mission.”

“Yeah, I guess I am, huh? I just feel…different.”

“Happy?”

She nodded, “Happy…relaxed…dare I say, hopeful?”

“Oh? Care to elaborate on that?” Spike asked, settling down on the couch and pulling Buffy on his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

“Well, I mean, it’s so…refreshing and so…positive to see those whose work is to spread love around the world, to help people who feel alone to not be alone any longer. And it’s not just Eros, but you as well. I mean, it’s a rarity in this day and age to see those not all about the hook up, that they want to endorse love and not just sex.”

“Often times people tend to think that’s all that constitutes a relationship.”

“Exactly. And there are those that are so desperate to have someone love them or to love that they latch on to someone that is all wrong for them.” She held up her hand, “Guilty as charged.”

Pulling her down to his chest to cradle her close, Spike pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead, “But you’re over that now, right?”

“Obviously,” she giggled.

“And it’s not just because of where I came from…right?”

The uncertainty in his voice was something to behold. Spike always presented himself as having all the courage in the world, and now, with her, he was showing vulnerability and uncertainty of her. Who would have thought?

“Spike, you know that’s not it. Eros confirmed that that wasn’t the case himself! He knew we were meant for one another. She sat up and cupped his face in her hands. “Spike, from the very start, you had me. I was just too stubborn and too stupid and much too scared to admit it or see it.” Leaning in she Eskimo-kissed him. “I knew it, deep down I knew it.”

“Me too, kitten,” he told her huskily, claiming her lips in a hungry kiss. “The first time I laid eyes on you, you had me.”

Buffy fell into the kiss, surrendering herself completely to it and damn, but it felt wonderful to just let go and lose herself in him. Because she felt safe with him. She didn’t feel that fear that he would be taken from her, didn’t feel uncertain of her place with him—she was aware clearly of what he wanted from her – her love and understanding. Such a pure and honest request from an ardent heart such as his. How could she deny him?

Sure it helped to know the Gods stamped their love with approval, it certainly pushed things along for her, but she knew that even without that, she would have been his.

His hands slipped under her shirt and she pressed herself to him, wanting to feel his hands on hers, needing to feel him. He cupped her breasts in his hands flicked her nipples with his thumbs and she moaned, wrapping her arms around him and deepening the kiss.

“Excuse me?”

A voice came through her lusty haze and Buffy froze before pulling back. Spike moaned and tried to bring her back, but when Buffy saw Eros waiting for their attention across the room, she grabbed his hands from under her top and pulled them out and nodded in the direction of his uncle.

Spike cleared his throat and moved like quick fire to disengage Buffy, nearly dumping her on the floor in the process. “Sorry, uncle.”

Eros beamed, his wings fluttering. “Don’t apologize. You know how I enjoy fresh love.”

Spike grinned, “So you heard me then?”

Eros nodded, “I did.” He looked to Buffy, “You sure about this dear?”

“I am.”

Eros turned to Spike. “Come on up.”

“But--”

“Check the wings.”

Spike reached back and felt for his fluffy wings, smiling broadly when he found them. Looking down at Buffy he said, “I’m back in business, baby.”

********

The trip to Olympus was quite a strange one for Buffy. One second she was lifting from the Earth in Spike’s arms, his wings extended – in which she could not take her eyes off them, they really were beautiful to behold and especially on him. Wow, was all she could think.

And then, in a flash they were hurtling up and then suddenly just there. Peeping her eyes open, Buffy breathed, “Wow.”

“Do you like it, pet?”

It was breathtakingly beautiful. It was like every fantasy movie she’d seen with castles in the skies. Castles, homes—an entire civilization on puffy white clouds. It was gorgeous and amazing. The colors of everything seemed richer than anything she’d ever seen before –everything just sparkled and shone.

“It’s beautiful, Spike.”

“Thank you. Would you like to see where I live?”

She nodded, speechless.

Holding onto him tightly as he flew to his home – a long white marble mansion with black shutters and wide steps leading up to the gigantic front door. Settling them down on the steps, they walked hand in hand up to the door and it opened as if it knew who it was, and Buffy gasped when she saw the wide staircase a la Gone With the Wind before her, a rich red carpet leading up.

“Come on,” he whispered and took her up. On the first landing was a window that looked out into more homes and castles, and looking beyond all that, was a forest. She definitely felt the urge to check that out, wondering she’d be like Snow White making friends with the wildlife.

Winding up and around down a long hallway with large paintings decorating the walls of the hallway, Buffy couldn’t help but stare. From her readings on Greek Mythology she was impressed upon finding she could recognize some of the pictures.

Leading her into a room, Buffy was shocked once more when she saw Spike’s room.

“Spike, it’s so normal.”

He grinned. “What did you expect?”

“Not a regular room, I guess.” It was true; it was a room she could see anywhere, minus the size, which was probably the size of her entire apartment. The walls were red and cream striped; the furniture consisted of a king sized bed, a bureau, Anwar, a hope chest, an entertainment center and a full-length mirror. A bathroom was just off the bedroom, and from what she could see, there was a huge bathtub. Buffy was already getting ideas for that tub…

“So,” Buffy said, bouncing on her heels. “Now what?”

Just then the door burst open and in came Addie. Oh joy.

She wouldn’t even look at Buffy, but instead pointed her attention to Spike. “You brought her here?”

Spike sighed, “Yes, mother, I did.”

“Why?”

“I imagine to see where our son came from,” Giles said as he entered the room. Buffy smiled at him.

Addie just stuck her nose up in the air.

“Can we see that forest I saw out there?” Buffy asked, deciding the best way to deal with Spike’s mother was just to take charge on her own. The woman, she figured, would come around eventually when she figured out that Buffy was not out to hurt or take away her son.

Spike smiled, looking relieved to have a reprieve. “Sure, pet.”

“Your mom hates me,” Buffy told Spike when they’d arrived in the dense forest, right by a sparkling stream. “And I really love that you have wings.”

Spike waggled his brows. “Do they turn you on?”

Buffy giggled, “Very much so, actually.”

“If I’d known that sooner--”

“I would have checked myself into a mental institution and none of what’s happened so far would have happened,” Buffy cut in.

Spike laughed, “Good point.”

“The fact that I like you so much worked in your favor,” and she tweaked his nose with her finger before beginning her exploration of the forest.

“Why here, kitten, hmmm?”

“Kitten! I thought I was your lioness?” she teased and touched her finger to the stream, watching it ripple. The stream seemed to sparkle with diamonds and it was like looking in a mirror when she peered into it.

“Hey! Looking at myself here!”

Buffy started, jumping up and finding an incredibly handsome man with dark hair and glittering green eyes, glaring at her. He wore only the bottom of a toga, which, honestly to Buffy, looked like a skirt. His chest was bare and he was well-defined. Clicking in her brain through all the Greek mythology she’d studied, she snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “Narcissus.”

“You’ve heard of me?” he seemed pleased.

Buffy grinned, “I have. Where’s Echo?”

Narcissus rolled her eyes and jerked his head behind him. An irate looking woman came out with dark curls framing her face.

“She’s here,” Narcissus said.

“She’s here,” Echo replied back, glaring at Buffy.

“I don’t want him!” Buffy held up her hands. “I have my own guy right here,” and she pointed to Spike. “You can have him sweetheart. I couldn’t take all that ego. More power to you.”

Narcissus raised a brow and stalked off huffily, Echo following him close behind.

“That bloke drives me mad,” Spike muttered.

“Well, he is good-looking-”

Wrong thing to say. The next thing Buffy knew she was in the arms of jealous demi-god—was he a demi-god? He had to be a demi-god—and she was floating above the water.

“Take it back,” Spike growled.

“Or what? You’ll drop me in the stream?”

“Yup!”

Buffy laughed and wrapped her arms about his neck. “You know he’s nothing compared to you.”

Spike smiled brightly, his feathers rustling in joy. “Thank you.”

“Spike?”

“Hmmm?”

“Have you ever…ya know…up here?”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know.”

“Spied on someone?”

“You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?”

Spike shrugged, confused.

“Sex. Did you ever have sex up in the air?”

Spike smiled, “Got you to say it.”

“You suck!”

He laughed and smothered her in a kiss. “I never have,” he told her huskily. “Do you want to be the first to try with me?”

Buffy blushed from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. “Maybe.”

Spike grinned and maneuvered his wings so they formed a cocoon around them, shielding them from sight. He kissed her passionately, flicking his tongue inside her mouth and dueling with her own. Thrusting his hips forward, Buffy could feel his erection that was most likely straining in his jeans. Buffy hummed in delight when Spike’s hands found their way at her waist, just sliding across her belly…and then one hand found its way inside her yoga pants.

Pulling her panties to the side, Spike outlined her nether lips with his finger and nibbled at her lips. “Do you like that?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“What about…” and he swirled her clit with his finger. “That?”

“Oooh…Spike…”

“God, I’ve dreamt of you saying my name like that for so long…”

“Have you?” she asked absently, her eyes rolling in the back of her head when he sunk a finger inside her.

“Yes,” he hissed.

“Oh, boy…n-no one is going to hear me, are they?”

“Hear you scream for me, you mean?” he asked huskily.

She nodded; her orgasm just about there…

He shook his head and that was all it took for Buffy to let go. Shouting his name, she collapsed in his arms, holding onto him for dear life as she spasmed around his fingers.

“Mmmm…can’t wait to taste you, kitten,” Spike murmured as he withdrew his finger from her now sodden center.

She watched him in a slight daze bring his finger to his mouth and lick her spendings off it. “You like that?” she asked, surprised in her haze.

He looked at her as if she’s gone off her nutter. “Of course, I do. It’s even better since it’s you,” he said, humming in delight.

“No guy ever…” she broke off and shook her head.

“No guy ever what?” he demanded, getting all prickly.

“No guy ever liked that,” she admitted softly.

His eyes narrowed, “Oh?”

“They said I tasted bad.”

Spike growled, “You don’t not taste bad. Taste like honey, you do. Those arse holes didn’t know what they had at all, did they?”

Buffy shrugged, “I just assumed…”

“Well, you assumed wrong,” he corrected her.

“I made an ass out of you and me?”

He stared at her blankly and she giggled.

“Let me guess,” he drawled, “They expected you to give them pleasure though?”

Buffy averted her eyes and nodded.

“Arse holes,” he muttered.

She smiled happily up at him, “I adore you,” she gushed.

His expression changed from one of irritation to abject joy. “You do?”

She nodded adamantly. “I do.”

“Are you still…?”

“Falling for you?” she supplied at his hesitation.

He nodded, his eyes full of hope.

“Spike, trust me. You’re home free on that one.”

His feathers fluttered at that. “Am I?”

“Oh, most definitely. You’re so…you’re everything I always wanted and wished for and never thought I’d get.”

“Funny,” he whispered, “I feel the same about you.”

“I like that,” she whispered back and kissed him, languidly. “Spike?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Can we see more of Olympus?”

“Of course!”

She smiled, “And then after do you think I could talk to your uncle?”

Spike froze. “About what?”

“Just stuff. Stuff I think he’d understand, stuff he’s dealt with.”

“Like?”

“My business, my future being with an immortal…though your aunt would most likely be better for that, or even your dad, but, there’s just something about your uncle that makes me feel like I can talk to him, you know? I almost even feel as though he’s waiting for me too.”

Spike nodded slowly. “Okay, but…you know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know, baby. It’s nothing I’m hiding from you, just got some things to discuss with the man. After all, he did send you to me.”

“And then after we can have a night to ourselves?” Spike murmured, nuzzling her neck.

“Oh, yes.”

Spike grinned and pecked her lips, “Then we best be off then huh?” and soon, they were sailing over the tree tops.

“So, Buffy, how have you been enjoying your visit?” Eros asked later when Buffy and Spike stopped in.

Buffy smiled. “It’s so beautiful here. And yet, some things are just like being on Earth.”

Eros smiled, “Well, we might not have a McDonald’s up here, but yes, some things are the same. Earth is fashioned in its likeness. Some things humans ran with, others were given.”

“Like fire,” Buffy grinned and Eros stared at her for a minute, cocking his head to the side in a manner that she’d seen Spike do so many times.

“Uh, Uncle,” Spike started hesitantly, “Buffy wanted to talk with you about some things…”

“Oh?” Eros asked, looking directly at Buffy, a small smile on his face.

Buffy quirked a brow and smirked. “Yeah.” She had a feeling he’d been waiting for this, in fact, along with Giles, she felt she had a friend in Eros. And he was a God to boot. Who could beat that?

“Why don’t you see your aunt, Spike? She’s been asking about you,” Eros suggested to Spike.

Spike nodded slowly, gazing from Buffy to Eros. “Okay…”

“Don’t worry, Spike. I won’t frighten her,” Eros chuckled.

Nodding once more, Spike pecked Buffy on the cheek and bounded off in search of his Aunt Psyche.

Sitting down at his desk, Eros folded his hands before him and smiled at Buffy. “What can I do for you, Buffy?”

“I think you knew I was coming sooner or later, didn’t you?” Buffy asked settling in the chair opposite him.

Eros grinned. “I had a feeling.”

“The feeling being you knew I was going to have some questions about my business.”

“Of course.” He gestured to her. “Fire away.”

“Did you have a hand in it?”

“Meaning?”

“Did you help me match them?”

“What do you think?”

Buffy studied him closely, chewing her bottom lip. “No, I don’t think you did.” And she prayed that she was right.

“You have faith in your abilities then?”

“Had. Operative word. Past tense: had.”

“I know,” Eros said nodding, “And why was that?”

“You’re a God, don’t you know?”

“Humor me.”

“I was burnt out, lost and well, bitter.”

“And you’re not now?”

“Well, I won’t lie and say I’m magically cured, but Spike has a way about him that restores faith. Even if I was hard on him at the start.”

“Why was that, do you think?” Eros asked, sitting back and putting his hands together, almost as if in prayer, but only the pads of his fingers touched one another.

“Why I was hard on him?”

“Yes.”

“What is this therapy?”

Eros grinned. “Forgive me. I find mortals and human nature fascinating. It helps to have one hand on the pulse of humanity, being in the position I’m in. Do you know I frequent Earth when possible?”

“You do?” Buffy asked, astonished, trying to wrap her mind around a God visiting Earth. “How do you, you know, go incognito? I mean you’re so…Sparkly.”

Eros laughed, a laugh that came from his belly and Buffy relaxed, knowing she hadn’t offended him.

“Well, I’m a God, so I can shift into making myself look human. I come down to Earth, watch those that I want to match, watch mating habits and see what is, what do you call it – hip?”

Buffy smiled, “Something like that.”

“You’re business has helped many, Buffy. Myself included. I’ve watched you for quite some time, watched your business grow, and watched your technique, the way you genuinely want to help people find love.”

“I kind of missed the boat for myself didn’t I?”

“Noone, as you know, is perfect when it comes to finding matches for themselves. That’s where you and I come in.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “I am in no way in your league, Eros. You’re a God.”

“And I just got done telling you how you’ve helped me do my job. You lightened the work load for me.”

“Still trying to wrap my mind around it,” Buffy muttered, looking down at her hands.

“You are much too hard on yourself. You hit a slump. I know you are an independent sort of woman that does not like to think that she needs a man to make her complete – and for all intents and purposes, you don’t. But it helps, doesn’t it? Having love? Having someone that thinks the world of you the way my nephew does? It’s dificult I find for a mortal to admit that they need love and need another, but the hard truth is, it’s in your makeup to need others. A lid, as they say, for every pot. And sometimes that lid is a good friend. Connections are important for a mortal to survive in the world. It’s a hard enough world to live in, I know, I’ve seen it. Trying to live it alone,” he shook his head, “I can’t imagine.”

“Why Spike?” Buffy asked softly, his speech having moved her. “I mean, why not a mortal man?”

Eros smiled, “Because I knew he was your match. I knew his soul was mated to yours. That’s my job. You crave unconditional love and fun, Spike craves fun and someone to keep him, dare I say, a bit grounded?”

Buffy giggled. “I’ll say.”

“You love him, correct?”

Buffy looked down and smiled softly. “I think he should be the first to hear that.”

“You haven’t told him yet?” Eros asked, aghast.

“I was…no, I haven’t. I told you I hadn’t been magically cured!”

Eros laughed. “I’m surprised my impatient nephew has been able to wait for it! See? You’re giving him direction and helping him grow already.”

“Eros?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Can I do it? Can I do my business again?”

“Come, let me show you something.” Standing, he waved at her to follow him and she stood, allowing him to lead her to the center of the room.

Her eyes popped. “Is that the--”

“The crystal ball? Yes, it is. It’s how I’ve kept tabs on you for so long Miss Summers.”

Buffy smiled, but was unable to tear her eyes away from the large milky ball. She watched in fascination as Eros waved his hand over it and said, “Show me Willow.”

Willow appeared then, smiling happily, and on the arm of none other than Oz.

“I chose him for her!” Buffy exclaimed.

“Exactly.”

“And Xander?”

“They’ve decided to stay friends. In fact, Xander has decided to visit you once more and fill out another form.”

“Wow,” Buffy breathed, watching Willow and Oz kiss. She looked away, blushing. “But that’s one success after so many duds!”

“It feels good, does it not?”

“Oh God yes,” Buffy agreed on a whisper. “I thought I was going to have to hand over my business to Spike.”

Eros raised a brow. “Lock, stock and barrel?”

Buffy nodded, “I was ready to be done forever.”

“How about making him your partner?”

Buffy smiled and nudged him lightly, “You and your Godlike ways.”

“And how are you feeling about other matters?”

“Oh, you mean whether or not to become immortal or not?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a God, why don’t you tell me?” Buffy said, smirking up at him.

Eros smiled, “I think it’s only fair that Spike hear first, don’t you?”

Buffy nodded, “I completely agree.”

“Then why don’t I leave you to it? I’m sure the boy is crawling out of his skin waiting to get back to your company.”

Buffy smiled fondly. “Thank you, Eros.”

“We’ll talk soon, yes? When we have other matters to sort out?”

“Like my family…Yes. We’ll talk soon.”