Late January, on a Friday evening………


They say don’t count your chickens before they hatch, but Buffy was too excited not to celebrate. Monday would bring the announcement of who would be taking over as VP of Sales at her place of employment, MDIG, Medical Doctors Internet Guide—where she worked selling space in their publications to pharmaceutical companies wanting to advertise their latest drugs and research—and there was no doubt in her mind she would be the one named.

She’d come to work there straight out of college and for the last eight years, climbed her way up to become their top sales agent. With the VP of her department now retired, she was positive she’d be given his position and the sizeable pay raise that came with it. So positive, in fact, that she moved out of her apartment yesterday and into a luxury high rise.

It was one of those too good to be true deals she simply couldn’t refuse. A fully furnished, spacious, two-bedroom apartment. Add in the Jacuzzi on the balcony and she was sold. Granted she didn’t need two bedrooms, but her plan was to convert the spare into a den. The previous occupant passed away from a sudden heart attack, his daughter skipped town without a word and the landlord was now desperate to get it rented. The price was higher than Buffy could afford, but she had the unbelievable luck of being offered a reduced rate on the first six months rent if she paid it up front. Figuring the extra income from her promotion would help her continue to pay for the posh place in the future, she didn’t hesitate to write the check in exchange for the keys the same day.

So here she sat at Willy’s for her ritual ‘after work’ Zinfandel in the best mood knowing Monday would see her with a new title and more money. Several minutes later, when there were only two sips left in her glass, her peripheral vision picked up on the dark figure to her right.

True, she didn’t bother with men or dating, content to focus on her career instead, but she wasn’t blind to a good looking man when she saw one either. While he was paying for his drink, she took in the bad-boy appearance and had to admit... humina-humina! Not the type she normally went for but the black clothes, leather duster and bleached hair seemed to scream a younger Kiefer Sutherland from ‘The Lost Boys’. Oh yeah, she sorta had a ‘thing’ for Hollywood’s vampires from Bela Lugosi to the current delicious salty goodness of Henry from Blood Ties. Mmmmm, every Friday night at nine was a no interruption zone in front of her TV and what was Vicki’s problem anyway? All she had to do was say the word and Hen-

“‘Lo there. The name’s Spike.”

~~~*~~~

Spike hadn’t been in the pub two minutes after ordering a drink when his attention was immediately drawn to the woman standing not fifteen yards to his left. She bent over to set her briefcase on the floor and he couldn’t help leaning back at the waist thirty degrees to appreciate the luscious curve of her bottom.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered to himself. “She’s gorgeous.”

Friends warned him that his obsession for bedding beautiful women would one day land him in trouble, but he scoffed at the notion. To him it was nothing more than a pastime, an indulgence. Granted it was habitual, but there were far worse things in this world to be addicted to than sex. His pursuits, er, choice of activity for leisure didn’t hurt anyone, plus he understood the concept of getting back what you put into something. And he always made sure his partners received more than their fair share of enjoyment in return for the time they invested with him.

To put it quite simply, he loved women... as many and as frequently as possible. And right now… he decided the woman who currently held his notice would be the next in a long line of lucky ladies.

With strawberry painted lips, large soulful eyes and the cutest upturned nose, she reminded him of a mythical sprite, complete with her delicately built frame. He hissed through his teeth as she pulled the clip from her up-do and shook her tresses free. He had a strong affinity for the long blonde hair she possessed which fell past her shoulders in feathery wisps, the kind he could spend an entire evening burying his nose and fingers in while finding his pleasure. When she sat and leaned her elbows on the counter, the hem of her filmy white top rose up an inch above her grey, pinstriped slacks to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her slender waist. Her skin looked so smooth and silky to the touch it made his fingers twitch involuntarily with the desire to test that theory.

Anyone bothering to watch as he stared would swear he was already fucking her in every angle possible. And they wouldn’t be wrong. He’d mentally pictured taking her in six different positions already before deciding the real thing would be much more gratifying. Jet lag may have zapped most of his energy, especially since he’d only been in the country for some three hours, but he was absolutely sure after shagging her rotten, he’d sleep like a baby. Strategy was everything in a conquest, whether for business or pleasure, and his brain was busy formulating one complete with calculated moves of how to approach her as he picked his glass up and made his way towards her.

“‘Lo there. The name’s Spike.”

Jarred from her thoughts by the sound of a deep British voice, Buffy looked up to find the man she’d been admiring extending his hand in introduction.

“Nice to meet you, Spike.” Whoa!!! The milky shade of blue twinkling in his eyes was breathtaking. Much nicer than Kiefer’s. She quickly put up a façade of indifference in the event he was going to hit on her... however flattering it would be.

He was stunned by the beautiful green eyes with flecks of gold staring directly into his. “Wha’s your name, pet?”

“I can tell you it’s not pet,” she replied on the defensive for his choice of nickname. He seemed unfazed by her tone of voice however, his lips settling into a smirk so sexy she was sure it melted the socks off any woman he chose to use it on. He did have the most beautiful mouth she’d ever seen though, particularly the bottom lip with its oh-so-pouty fullness. “Buffy.” Putting her hand in his, she shook it quickly and withdrew it just as fast.

“Buffy?” She’s kiddin’, right? He noticed her handshake was strong for such a tiny thing. Strong and brief, like a man shaking another man’s hand when they sized each other up.

“That’s me.” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

“No seriously, wha’s your name?”

Okay, now the handsome, er, irritating stranger was starting to piss her off. She answered his eyebrow by raising one of her own. “Seriously. It’s Buffy. And this question is coming from a man who calls himself Spike?”

“Whatever your name really is doesn’ matter to me.” And it didn’t. Why would it when all he was after was a couple hours worth of naked fun? “If you want me to call you Buffy-” he lowered his voice seductively. “-then Buffy it is.”

God! Rude much?!?! “Okay... Spike.” The deviant smirk and the way his statement came off was a deciding factor to go into bitch mode. He’d made it perfectly clear what he wanted, and it wasn’t a stimulating conversation.

Oooops. Seems he’d said the wrong thing judging from her response. But he had his sights set on her, his mouth already watering at the mere thought of what she’d taste like, so he hoped to smooth things over, get back on her good graces. “`M sorry, pet, I didn’ mean anythin’ by that.” Tilting his head to the side with his best innocent face in place, he asked, “Can I buy you another drink, perhaps?”

Nice recovery if he hadn’t already set off the warning bell on her creep-o-meter. Turning her body away from him to stare straight ahead, she dismissed him, her words curt and cold. “No. Thank you… but no.”

He wasn’t about to give up, not even after her frosty answer. There wasn’t a woman out there he hadn’t been able to seduce and this one would be no different. He just had to change tactics according to the personality. Maybe he’d read her wrong, maybe she was the straight forward type. So perhaps she’d appreciate him cutting past the chase? “You ready to get outta here then, pet?”

Whipping her head in his direction, she couldn’t believe the audacity this man had to assume, to assume... “Stop calling me pet.” Handsome? Yes. Smart? Not enough to take a hint, obviously.

“What shall I call you then? Luv, sweetheart, hmmm,” he purred while focusing on that glorious hair. “How `bout… Goldilocks?”

“How about just plain Buffy.” And I officially feel violated now, especially with the way he was looking at her. Her claws were itching to come out and draw some blood if this jerk didn’t back off.

From behind the bar, Willy, the owner, was listening in to the exchange between his regular customer and the newcomer. This would make for an interesting show if the Brit pressed on like he was. No one, but no one who knew Buffy would dare be talking to her the way this man was if they knew her like he did. They may only have a bartender-patron type relationship, but over the years they’d developed an easy rapport about their daily lives and were fond of the other’s company. What the stranger didn’t realize about the petite package in front of him is that she was a true lioness in the ‘guise’ of a kitten… and had a knack for remaining at the top of the food chain.

“Alright, jus’ plain Buffy, you ready to get outta here?”

“And just where are you suggesting we go?” Let him walk right into her trap. With her talons bared and sharpened to Ginsu standards, the smell of humiliation hung in the air, red and embarrassing.

“Was thinkin’ The Ritz.” Tha’s it, come to Daddy.

Oh. My. God! At the mention of the hotel, she assumed he thought she was a hooker. Try as she might to ignore it, but Willy’s Place sometimes attracted the higher class escort women in here to do ‘business’ and their mode of dress was like any other woman.

“If you’re implying what I think you’re implying... I am not a working girl. If that’s what you’re looking for, go two blocks East from here and you’ll find them standing on the corner.” He actually laughed at this, infuriating her. That is, until, his next statement went beyond the egotistical, making her want to rip his head off.

“Take a good look at me and ask yourself... do you honestly think I-” he raised his voice for emphasis. “-need to pay for sex?”

“Judging from the lame pick up lines? I’m thinking yeah.”

He raised a challenging brow at her, undeterred. “Come on. I can feel it.” Leaning in dangerously close to her face, he whispered silkily, “You know you wanna dance.”

Willy stood back and crossed his arms, knowing things were about to go beyond interesting even though he hadn’t heard what the other man had said.

She had to hand it to him in the persistence department. But in this case, it wouldn’t pay. She gave him a sexy smile and leaned in a tad closer, ignoring his intoxicating scent and just how attractive she found him to be. Reminding herself that looks weren’t everything, she gave him a false sense of hope with the soft lilt in her voice as she spoke. “Say it’s true. Say I do want to.”

Now we’re gettin’ somewhere, he thought as he curled his tongue behind his teeth. He knew she was just one of those extra tough cookies. And now that he bitten through her tough exterior, he was going to savor every last one of her delicious crumbs.

She watched him run a confident hand down his torso to hook a thumb loosely through his belt, his fingertips grazing an obvious erection beneath the tight, black jeans. Dropping her tone to one of contempt, she told him flatly, “It wouldn't be you.” The way his jaw went slack made her want to laugh. He definitely hadn’t anticipated rejection. Matter of fact, she was pretty sure he was used to always getting ‘what’, or ‘who’, he was after. And so for good measure, she decided to add a condescending, “You’re beneath me.”

Before he could manage another word, she jumped down from her chair and grabbed her things. “I wish I could say it was a pleasure meeting you but... well, you understand.”

Wow. Who would have thought American women couldn’t be as easily charmed as the birds back home in England? Think quick, think quick. “Leaving so soon, pet? Can’ even stay long enough to hear me out on what sort of entertainment I had in mind?”

The guy just didn’t know when to quit. “Sorry, but somehow, I don’t think your idea of fun would…” She paused to glance down at his crotch then back to his face to emphasize her meaning. “…measure up to mine.”

He watched her flounce away and had to admire her spunk. Oh well, her loss. Er, wait a bloody minute! It was his loss… as in his first. Ever! A flawless track record ruined in a span of less than three minutes… by one woman?!?! Not on his watch!

She’d almost made it to the door before remembering it was Friday and therefore time to pay Willy her weekly tab. Groaning, she turned around and made her way back, but as far from the bleached wonder as possible.

“I almost forgot your money, Willy. Sorry.”

“Not a problem.” He was grinning ear to ear as she took a few bills from her purse and laid them on the counter. “Bravo, by the way.” She shrugged and smiled at him.

“You know me.”

“That’s why I didn’t bother interfering. Your tongue is sharper than any knife I have back here.”

The instant she came walking back, Spike was determined to engage her one last time, particularly because he’d never been rejected. Drink in hand, he headed her way but when attempting to step around another patron who’d shoved their chair back to stand up, his foot caught on one of the legs, causing him to lurch forward, the contents of his beverage flying forward to land squarely on Buffy’s chest.

Everyone froze. Buffy hissed in shock from the cold, wet liquid that drenched her blouse. She never saw Spike coming towards her but as soon as she saw he was the guilty party, her eyes narrowed.

Bugger all! He’d gone and done it now. But for the life of him, he couldn’t take his eyes off her chest. Her thin shirt turned nearly transparent, hugging her pert breasts like a pair of hands and he swore he could almost see the pink hue of her hardened nipples through it. He was shaken from his ogling by her voice.

“And that is the cherry on the cake of my day. Thank you so much.” Fucking jerk!

Willy grabbed a towel, preparing to hand it to her but Spike had already grabbed a small stack of napkins and began wiping frantically at her shirt.

“Ah,” she gasped. “What the...” He was practically pawing at her breasts. She started slapping his hands. “Stop that!”

“Lemme help.” He kept dabbing at her blouse despite her efforts to bat him away.

Willy stood by and watched the situation escalate as the two blonds began smacking each other’s hands like a couple of school girls for a few seconds until Buffy won.

“Isn’t it bad enough you made me the booby prize in a wet t-shirt contest but now you’re groping me? God, you are unbelievable!” She was red in the face from both embarrassment and anger after stepping away from him.

“`M tryin’ to help, you daft bint.”

“I think you’ve done enough!”

“Well there’s gratitude for ya… stubborn chit.”

“You, you...” She couldn’t believe he was calling her names, whatever they meant, acting this way when it was his fault to begin with. “You know what?”

Uh-oh, Willy thought. He watched Buffy reach over and grab a drink right out of another customer’s hand then proceed to throw it right in the Englishman’s face.

Spike closed his eyes and stood stone still for a few seconds, trying to rein in his temper.

A satisfied smile graced her face as she watched the muscles in his jaw clench tightly, baring his teeth like an animal as he grit them together. “How do you like being soaked?” But oh God, was he the epitome of seduction when his lids opened slowly, a sinful gleam emanating from his eyes as his tongue came out to sensuously lick the alcohol that dribbled over his top lip.

“Got you wet though, pet... didn’ I?”

Erghhhh! “Well it certainly wasn’t from the power of your charm because clearly you could fuck up a wet dream.” She turned to leave, not wanting to cause anymore of a scene that had already attracted too much attention from several people seated in the immediate area.

Spike wasn’t one to let anybody win an argument but he was stunned by her words and the fact she was walking away… again. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Well-well, you have stupid hair.” He rolled his eyes at his weak attempt at an insult. Bloody brilliant `f you there, mate. And of course she heard it because she flipped him the bird from over her shoulder.

Willy cleared his throat to get Spike’s attention.

“I’m hoping for your sake you’re just passing through and don’t plan on frequenting my bar, cuz you just messed with the wrong woman, buddy.”


A/N: So there it is, chapter one. The next update will be coming in a few short days where the story will really begin to take flight. I’d love to know you’re thoughts so far and of course, have a great week. Hugs to everyone, it feels great to be back here at TSR.

Monday morning.........

This was going to be the best day ever; she could feel it in her blood. She had a great night’s sleep, an awesome cup of pumpkin spice flavored coffee, decided to wear one of the new outfits she’d purchased over the weekend and her hair couldn’t have turned out more perfect if she’d gone to the salon. With a bounce in her step and a bright smile, Buffy waltzed over to her desk and settled down to take a look at her schedule, knowing her upcoming promotion was going to fill her agenda with new and exciting responsibilities. Maybe she’d even take a vacation this year considering the last time she went to see her friends back home wa…

“Miss Summers, may I see you for a moment in my office please?”

The voice she’d inadvertently been waiting to hear snapped her out of her daydreaming. “Certainly, Mr. Snyder.”

Cordelia, a friend and fellow sales agent, poked her head over the makeshift wall that separated their cubicles to give her a thumb’s up as soon as he was out of sight.

“You know you got the job and to celebrate, you’re so buying me lunch today since you’re the one getting a raise!” Yes, she envied her co-worker, but Buffy truly deserved the position. They’d both came on board around the same time and risen the ranks together, but Buffy had the head for it and quickly became the senior agent.

“Here’s hoping,” Buffy replied modestly though she was giddy with excitement as she took off to catch up with the short, balding man who rarely smiled. He was the head of Human Resources and all about business, much like herself, which was the only reason they got along as well as they did… on a professional level anyway.

In his office, he motioned for her to take a seat after closing the door then proceeded to sit down himself. She suppressed the giggle that tried to escape when she saw how tiny he appeared behind his huge desk. He reminded her so much of a little kid whose head just barely peeked above a steering wheel that she wanted to offer him a phone book to sit on, or maybe a booster seat. He drummed his fingers on top of a notepad, wearing the usual grim look she’d grown accustomed to before finally looking her directly in the eyes.

“Elizabeth,” he started.

And her heart sank. This couldn’t be good. He never called her by her first name. Then again, maybe it was his way of seeing her in a new position of more power.

“As you know, Liam O’Connor’s first priority is to see to the continued success of this company…. by any means necessary.”

Yes, she knew that. She’d only met him once, but his reputation as an aggressive businessman preceded him.

Six months ago when O’Connor Enterprises, a multimedia conglomerate based out of London, purchased MDIG, there was panic concerning the company being restructured and people losing their jobs. Luckily, this didn’t happen. Most departments were expanded and more people were either hired or transferred in from headquarters to help in the expansion he had planned for the company.

“In saying that, I can assume you will continue to do your very best here at MDIG?”

“Yes, sir.” Why wouldn’t she? He, of all people, knew her work ethic, how late she stayed, how many times she’d…

“Great. Because I have good news for you.”

Squee! I got the job! Buffy’d been pretty sure she would, but actually hearing it would be like music to her ears.

“You’ll be taking on more responsibility, but I think you’ll be pleased.”

Yes, yes, go on.

“As the senior agent in your department, Mr. O’Connor has created a new position for you... as head of sales and assistant to the new vice president of sales.”

“What?” Be kind, rewind. She didn’t just hear him say that, right?

“Although I recommended you for the job, it seems Mr. O’Connor already had someone in mind he’s sending in to fill the position.”

She felt the blood rise to burn her cheeks but held her tongue. By all rights, she was more than qualified, had put in more than enough time, had way more knowledge of all the company’s contacts, their competitors, you name it. So why on earth would O’Connor bring someone from outside the company? Then she remembered the time she’d met him… and shuddered. It was at the company Christmas party, just last month.

He was a good looking man for his age, divorced, extremely rich and had plenty of women flocking around him, more than likely due to the ‘rich and single factor’. She observed his flirtatious behavior with utter disgust and did her best to avoid him, but he was intent on greeting all of the employees since he’d flown over from London for the occasion. By the time he’d found her, he was well on his way to being drunk and made a none-too-subtle pass at her. As politely as possible, she declined and made a hasty exit for the bathroom, but she could see he was offended at her refusal. Now it made her wonder if he remembered the incident despite his inebriated state and if that was the reason he’d chosen someone else to be the new VP. If it was, it was more than wrong, it was immoral. Bastard!

“I see.” She tried to withhold the disappointment from her voice but Snyder noticed it anyway.

“I know you were counting on getting the job, that’s why after Mr. O’Connor informed me of his decision, I suggested that your qualifications could be put to better use by assisting our new VP. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get him to agree to a pay raise for you, but hopefully you’ll acquire more accounts through your new role and I’m sure the commissions you’ll earn will more than make up for it.”

“And how much extra work will I be doing aside from my own?” As if she didn’t have enough on her plate to keep her busy already.

“I can’t say specifically. It’s whatever your new boss needs you to do. Now, as head of sales, every agent will report to you and you’ll be responsible for assimilating their progress, keeping your boss informed and assisting him in handling the account load as a whole within the department. In effect...”

Yadda, yadda, yadda! She half-listened as Snyder rambled, the only thing running through her mind was that she hadn’t gotten the job. The one she wanted, worked hard for, deserved, and panic set in as she realized she needed it in order to keep her new apartment. “I appreciate you going up to bat for me, I really do bu-”

“Be thankful, Miss Summers,” he said sternly. “Mr. O’Connor could have said no to my suggestion and you’d remain right where you are.”

“I… I. Of course. It’s not that I don’t appreci-“

“That’s the spirit.” He cut her off and stood. “Now. Let’s go so I can introduce you to the new Vice President.”

This was beyond unjust. Not only would she have to work twice as hard, earning the same salary as she did now, but would have to report to the man that robbed her of the position that by all rights should’ve been hers.

She followed him down the hall and past all the cubicles of her fellow associates, shaking her head ‘no’ when Cordy caught her eye. When her friend mouthed ‘sorry’, Buffy tried to act nonchalant, shrugging casually as if her future hadn’t just taken a kick in the ass.

“I met him briefly this morning as he was getting settled into his office. He’s quite young, only twenty three, but something of a prodigy, a whiz kid if you will. Between his genius and your experience, I’m sure you two will get along famously.”

Twenty fucking three?!?! She was nearing her thirtieth birthday for God sakes, had busted her chops in this company and they bring in a rug-rat? Resentment towards Liam turned to rage, whether this ‘kid’ was an Einstein or not made no difference to her.

They stopped in front of the door to what should have been her new office and Snyder knocked, receiving a prompt ‘come in’ from the man on the other side. Snyder opened the door partially and poked his head in.

“Good morning, sir. If you’re not too busy, I’d like you to meet your new assistant?”

Kiss ass, Buffy thought, her resentment against the unfairness of it all growing to encompass Snyder and the man who would become her immediate boss.

“Of course.” He motioned the beady eyed little man inside while grumbling to himself. He didn’t want or need an assistant. For Christ sakes, he’d spent plenty of time working the field for his own father’s company for the last 2 years right after college before taking Liam’s offer and coming here. But, since he knew Liam personally and this assistant was his idea, he was sure he could find some use for the woman named Elizabeth Summers.

“William Giles, I’d like you to meet Miss Elizabeth Summers. Miss Summers... Mr. William Giles.” He waved a hand between them as the door swung the rest of the way open so the two could see each other.

“YOU?!?!” came twin cries of shock and recognition.

Snyder looked back and forth from the platinum to the golden blonde, confused. “You two know each other?”

“Not… exactly.” Buffy crossed her arms and glowered at the man who’d both insulted and assaulted her on Friday night. Could she just, maybe, wake up back in bed and have a ‘do-over’ of this entire morning, one that didn’t include the bleached Brit-boy or the fact he’d stolen her dream job?

Oh, this was too bloody rich! Never one to believe in coincidence, Spike’s shock turned into a mischievous grin when he realized that what at first appeared to be an undesirable situation, had turned into something else entirely. Here stood the one woman who had not only turned down his advances but had managed to cut him down to size in the process. New assistant indeed! Oh yeah, he could think of plenty of uses he’d get out of her. Images of the two of them tearing up his office ran through his head in vivid detail… with him taking her over the desk, her straddling him in his leather chair, the couch, up against the filing cabinet…

“Yes, Mr. Snyder.” He brought the upper crust English accent he grew up with into play and strode towards ‘just plain Buffy’, holding his hand out to greet her. “We met a few nights ago when I first arrived here in the country. We shared... drinks.” He winked at her.

Reluctantly, she extended her own hand. Dressed in a three piece, dark blue suit, he look even hotter than the bad boy outfit she’d first seen him in and she found it unnerving along with the ‘gentlemanly’ way he was acting. I think I’m going to heave. He took her hand but rather than shake, turned it around and brought it up to his lips.

He purposefully kept his eyes trained on hers and planted a lingering kiss to the top of her hand, rubbing two fingers to the inside of her palm which was hidden from Snyder’s view.

Her breath hitched in her throat when she realized how soft that plump bottom lip of his felt as it caressed her skin. The look he gave her with those amazing baby blues did nothing to conceal the fact he was more than pleased at this new situation thrust upon them both. Oh God! She ripped her hand away from him as soon as she felt the light tickle. Now I know I’m going to heave. The nerve he had to act so smug and make with the covert sexual gesture like she’d welcome it. She sent him a warning glare while Snyder began talking again.

“Well, that’s nice now, isn’t it?” Actually, he could care less. “I’ll let you two get reacquainted then. I have a meeting to attend in about ten minutes so I must excuse myself. Congratulations to both of you. I’m sure Mr. O’Connor will be pleased with your team effort and the profitable results it will no doubt bring the company.” And with that, he left the couple alone to stare one another down, one with loathing, the other with lust.

“Well, well, well. What are the bloody chances `f you bein’ my, and I do emphasize my assistant.”

“Don’t get used it, because it’s not going to last.”

“Really?” he asked amused. “You put eight years into this company and you’re goin’ to walk away because of li’l ole me?” Oh, he’d read her personal file alright, from top to bottom. If he was going to be saddled with someone, he wanted to know all about her. It was just too bad there wasn’t a picture of the twenty nine year old employee in there or else he would have been a bit more prepared.

“I never said that.”

“Wha’s the matter, pet? `Fraid you can’ keep your hands to yourself while workin’ for me?”

“Ego much? And stop calling me pet.” She realized she couldn’t just up and quit no matter how badly she wanted to right now. She needed the money in order to keep her expensive apartment and… correction, I have six months to find a new job. There were plenty of companies here in NY she could apply to and her stellar employment record spoke for itself. Of course that record was also supposed to land her this promotion. “All I’m saying is don’t get used to it.”

“Right,” he drawled. “Maybe now is a good time for me to inform you `f my… expectations.”

“Expectations?” She almost shivered at how he said the word, as if it had nothing to do with work. Glancing at the manual paper trimmer with its giant cutting blade, she swore if he looked at her one more time like he wanted to play hide the salami, she’d slice it for him so thin it’d fit through a piggy-bank slit! Great! Now she’d regressed to having juvenile ideas of ways to make him wish he’d never been born, like bringing in home-baked brownies with laxative in it. With as full of shit as he is, he’d be spending all day in the men’s room she mused until he broke through her thoughts.

“Yeah. Since you’ll be workin’, ah-hem... beneath me.” And soon enough... in more ways than one.


I’m sure everyone saw this coming, and that’s the other reason why I promise to update soon… in about, oh-say, 3-4 days? Does that sound good? Have a safe and fantastic weekend - *hugs*.

Tuesday………
READ THE WARNING ABOVE - ENOUGH SAID
Before arriving at work, Buffy had resolved to make herself seem too busy to engage in idle chit-chat with her co-workers so she didn’t have to put up with any of their fake sympathy, telling her how ‘sorry’ they were she didn’t get the promotion. However, her plans went out the window when Spike suddenly rang her over the speaker phone after only being in her cubicle for a few minutes.

“Mornin’, pet. I need you to bring whatever files you have on the Nelson account to my office.” Spike was anxious to familiarize himself with the company’s clients but even more interested to see what his lovely assistant was wearing today. He knew it would be nothing close to the fantasies he’d concocted the previous day, but was sure she’d give him enough to feed a few new ones.

Picking up the receiver, she spoke with a sugary falsetto. “I’ll get right on that for you, Mr. Giles.” Then dropping her voice to a deadly bass, added, “And the name isn’t pet.” Erghh! He was going to make her life miserable on purpose; she just knew it.

“Got it, luv. Oh, and grab me a cup ‘f coffee on your way in.” Yes, it was good to be boss.

“Wh-” The receiver went dead. “Arghh!” That-that… sonuvabitch! This proved too much for her. What am I, his mommy? He can get his own damn coffee! Being an extremely organized person, she didn’t even have to search before quickly pulling all the material he asked for from her filing cabinet and got up.

His office was at the opposite end of the large, open area of cubicles, making it a long walk she normally wouldn’t mind if it weren’t him she needed to go see. Knocking on his door, she gritted her teeth as she heard his voice bid her entry.

“Come in.” As she entered, his breath caught in his throat at the lovely vision before him. Beautiful! Simply beautiful. A form fitting, below the knee red skirt like those of the sixties, a long sleeved white blouse, hair pinned neatly back in a French twist… she looked like a librarian. The kind he had dreams about. Except for the scowl on her face when she threw the reports on his desk, never offering him a ‘hello’ or even a glance of acknowledgment.

“And my coffee?” That made her head snap in his direction. To his credit, he suppressed a chuckle at the look of outrage on her face.

“What am I, your slave?”

“Hmmm, my slave? I don’ usually use the word delicious, but tha’s a right delicious thought, luv.” He felt the heat of her green eyes boring into him and bloody hell if it didn’t excite him!

“Let’s get a few things straight right now, Mr. Giles. I am not your secretary, your gopher or your slave. I’m your assistant,” she ground out. “So I suggest you get it yourself because if I have to bring it to you... you’ll be wearing it.” She quickly spun on her heel to leave.

“Wait-wait, wait a minute.” Turning around to face him with a hand on her hip, he couldn’t help but adore the flush of anger in her cheeks.

“What?” Tapping her foot impatiently, she wondered what he was going to ask for next, a binky and a blanky perhaps?

“I appreciate the fact you have your own work to do, but I could really use your help.” She looked at him as if to judge whether he was being honest or not. “Please. I need you to brief me as to where we stand with this account.” He pointed to the folders she’d flung at him.

“Fine.” She was already taking a seat on the couch when he’d gestured towards it.

“Just a mo’. I’ll be right back.”

He shed his dark grey suit jacket then headed for the door. Her eyes unconsciously drifted to his retreating form, her head tilting in appreciation of his lean, muscular body and the expensive slacks that didn’t hide the perfect contours of his buttocks. Stop that! she scolded herself. However attractive he was, he was too young, irksome, cocky and on top of all that, he’d stolen her job. Liam may consider him an asset, but she felt he was off by two letters.

Wearing a smile and carrying two mugs when he came back, he walked over and handed her one. He hoped this show of kindness might soften her cutting attitude and produce a truce between them.

“Here. Wasn’ sure how you take it, so I added some cream and two sweeteners. Hope tha’s alright.”

He proceeded to drag the coffee table closer to the couch, set his cup down then retrieved the folders off the desk before sitting down next to her. Crossing an ankle over the opposite knee made his legs spread wide enough that his thigh was flush against hers. She instantly shuffled away from him, but the small piece of furniture left little room for avoiding contact so she crossed her leg in the opposite direction from him. And why did he have to smell so good? The nicotine she picked up on right away but it was overpowered by the scent of... his shampoo? Maybe it was his soap or after shave or was it cologne? It was probably a combination of all the products he used that made it seem like he’d just stepped out of the shower. She blushed at the thought of him stepping out of a shower. His close proximity and scent was making her normally unshakeable nerves a bit frazzled. She was rarely so close to a man that she could actually smell him and here she was in a position where she’d have to remain for God knows how long. Snap out of it, Buffy! You hate his guts, remember?

“You expect me to drink this?”

He noticed her looking skeptically at his peace offering. “You think I did somethin’ to it?” He cursed at her accusing stare. "Oh, for Chris' sakes!" He took it from her, drank some then handed it back. “There. Satisfied now?” She wrinkled her nose in disgust and made it a point to turn the cup around, taking a sip from the opposite side. However cute she looked doing it, he rolled his eyes at her childish behavior.

“I don’t want to catch anything,” she defended herself. “God knows where your mouth has been.”

He knew exactly where he’d like to put his mouth. It made the blood between his legs boil as he thought about kissing her, learning her taste, feel her warmth as she responded, discover what made her tremble as he lowered his lips down her body. He quickly squelched the image from his mind. She may act like she didn’t welcome his attentions, but it wouldn’t last. He had all kinds of time to figure out what made the feisty blonde tick and when he did, she’d be begging for another go.

He threw the arm nearest her over the back of the couch, causing her to jump. She scolded herself for allowing him to get to her on any level and tried to disguise the involuntary movement by snatching up the first report, busying herself with scanning it as he loosened his tie.

“Now then. Where do we sit on this one?” he asked, fully prepared to be bored to tears. He easily could have read it for himself, but the chance to sit so close to her was worth it. The light scent of vanilla that came from her was driving him crazy, a good kind of crazy he enjoyed.

For nearly twenty minutes, he listened as she went over the particulars about the unsecured account, occasionally asking key questions to which she had a ready answer or solution to the problems surrounding the high profile company they wished to land a deal with. By the time she finished he was more than impressed. Her knowledge went beyond what lay on the papers she pored over; it was her ideas when discussing a strategy for securing their business. The fact she’d done her own research, had her own set of ‘informants’ that provided hidden information is what had him gob-smacked. Her plans were bloody brilliant and he couldn’t help but wonder why Liam hadn’t given her this position instead of him. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he knew the reason why Liam made him VP and it had nothing to do with or against Buffy, but setting that aside, he couldn’t help but reevaluate his opinion of his ‘assistant’, thinking that together, they would make a formidable team.

“What do you think, Mr. Giles?” He hadn’t said much during her speech aside from a few ‘mm-hmm’s’ and a couple of questions.

“I think-” he began carefully. “-what I’d like is to have you bring every file you have on all the potentials and clients we’ve lost and brief me like you did with this one.” Good one, mate! Now he could have her all to himself… all day long.

“You do realize I have my own workload?” It would take all day and probably most of the next to go through them properly… something she did not have time for. “I have deadlines that need to be met.” He nodded knowingly at her.

“I can get your deadlines extended or reassigned to someone else. As your boss,” he added for good measure so she understood he had the authority to free up her schedule.

“I’d rather you not.” The arrogant way he said it, as if he already had his mind made up and was telling her rather than asking had her fuming. She hated the fact he held that kind of power over her and if he chose to exercise it, she’d have no choice in the matter and would be obligated to work more closely with him. God, that was the last thing she wanted, needed... being made to work for hours on end with the very pervert who had the job she rightfully deserved.

At his questioning look, she decided to lay her cards on the table. “Look, Mr. Giles I-”

“Call me Spike.”

“Spike.” God that charming smile of his was annoying. “Since it’s not in my nature to lie, let me just say I don’t think it’s such a good idea that we work together any more than we have to.”

“And why’s that?” He smirked as he tilted his head, fingers resting beneath his chin, awaiting her answer.

“Because everything about you rubs me the wrong way.”

Amused, he chuckled lightly. “There are other ways I can rub you, pet, that I’m sure you’d find… very right.” And bloody hell but he longed to do just that!

Her jaw dropped at his audacity, but she quickly recovered. If this is how it was to be, then she would fight fire with fire. “If you think for one second you’re going to intimidate me or get away with sexual harassment, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“Do I?” he challenged. “Intimidate you?” After her reply of ‘not in the least’, he asked, “You gonna run and file a complaint `gainst me?” If she did, he knew Liam wouldn’t do anything about it. If Buffy chose to complain, Liam would most likely suggest replacing her.

And Spike had no intentions of doing that.

He had no plans of imposing anything on her other than a few sexual innuendos here and there. It was unthinkable to use his authority to make her have sex with him. No, she’d have to want it… and he’d make sure that she did! No woman had ever resisted his charms and she wasn’t about to be the first. It might take him a little longer and he may have to work a bit harder to achieve his goal, but he was nothing if not persistent.

Buffy knew it’d be her word against his if she cried sexual harassment and that in the end, nothing would be done about it. But living here in the big apple, he wasn’t the worst she’d ever dealt with. Granted he tried her patience and the fact he was her boss would undoubtedly make life difficult, but she could live with it... after laying a few ground rules first.

“If you continue acting like this, then you better prepare yourself for the consequences.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Be warned, Mr. Giles. Whether you’re my boss or not, I won’t hold my tongue.”

“Was hopin’ you’d say that.” He sat back and grinned wickedly. “Whatever you care to start with that tongue of yours... I jus’ pray you’re woman `nough to finish.” Oh, he definitely liked her spunk. All the verbal sparring matches he imagined them having would feel like foreplay. If he got under her skin often enough, she just might cave and sleep with him in an effort to put an end to it all. Angry sex, when two people loathed yet longed for each other made for the best shag imaginable in his mind. He had no doubts whatsoever she was attracted to him either. Most women were and she was no different, her body language gave it away.

“I’ll finish, alright, but I doubt you’ll like the end result.” She made a show of chomping her teeth together.

He slid a thumb inside the front of his pants and spread his fingers over his groin. “I don’ mind a li’l nibble... if you don’?” He slid his eyes down her body and licked his lips.

She stood abruptly, closed her eyes and raised both hands. “And a huge ewww to that.”

“Don’ knock it `til you try it.”

“So not going there.” Picking the files up, she stood, having had enough of this. “If you don’t mind, I have things to accomplish.”

“Actually... I do.” This had been fun but it was time to get back to business and assert his authority. Affixing a serious look to his face, he spoke matter-of-factly. “I want you to walk that pretty arse of yours back to your desk and get those files I mentioned so we can discuss them.”

“Excuse me?” she asked in disbelief. “You can’t read them for yourse-”

“It isn’ a request.”

God damnit but she hated being constantly interrupted by this man. “Ooooh, I get it. This is where you decide you’ve had enough and go back to being my boss. Ordering me around?”

“It is.” He smiled through his condescending tone. “And since you’re beneath me, I suggest you do as you’re told.”

Arghh! The man was insufferable! She had a few colorful metaphors ready to let fly from her lips when someone knocked at the door and Spike said ‘enter’.

“I’ll see you back here in less than five, Miss Summers.” He nodded curtly at her as Snyder walked past, saying his good mornings to both, eyes buried in his own paperwork he’d brought.

‘Fuck you’, she mouthed to him from behind Snyder’s back to which Spike merely smirked.

“Make that three minutes... and I’ll see if I can… fill that request for you later.” Snyder sat on the couch, eyes still glued to his work, affording Spike the perfect opportunity to lick his bottom lip seductively at her and wink.

~~~*~~~

Spike was enjoying himself immensely as he spent the entire morning sitting next to the spicy blonde goddess, watching her lips move as she elaborated on each account, giving her opinion whether he asked for it or not. Buffy was a go-getter, driven, just like him. And the more he listened to her ideas, the more convinced he became there wasn’t any account they couldn’t land if they worked together. True, it wasn’t his style to have a partner whenever he went outside the office to meet with clients, but he could admit there was more to be gained by including her. He considered himself lucky that not only did he have a competent and intelligent assistant, but a totally shaggable one at that.

Beauty and brains. A desirable yet deadly set of qualities in this particular woman. Desirable when it came to business, potentially lethal to his ego when it came to the pursuit of her person. Sure, he preferred girls who didn’t play hard to get but he wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge either, especially if he felt it was worth the effort. And his gut instincts were telling him she would be more than worth it since she’d managed, however unknowingly, to only make him want her more. And so what if he had a few ulterior motives disguised in the form of work? Success was the name of the game... and his game as well.

He checked his watch when he heard her stomach grumble. “Feelin’ peckish, luv?”

“Peckish?”

“Hungry.”

“You heard that, huh?” She blushed and clutched her belly.

“Didn’ realize what time it was, sorry. Le’s say we go grab some lunch. Yeah, pet?”

“No... thanks anyway.”

“Why not? You’re hungry, right?”

“Because you and I are strictly business associates,” she said as if that were explanation enough, but at his blank look she added, “While sometimes I do lunch with the company’s clients and my female friends, it’s a rule of mine never to do so with a co-worker of the male variety.” Especially not a skirt chasing pig that just got out of diapers!

“`S jus’ lunch, not a marriage proposal.” He gestured between them. “You’re hungry, `m hungry, we go somewhere to eat then come back to work.” He watched her stand and begin gathering the files they were finished with.

“And again… thanks, but no thanks.” Her arms were loaded as she went to the door and fumbled with the handle.

“Wha’s your problem?” She was back to being snotty and he hadn’t done or said anything to deserve it, he just about sulked.

He practically breathed the question down her neck as he leaned around to end her struggle by opening the door for her. She stepped out before turning to answer him. “Did it ever occur to you that I might need a break?”

He leaned a shoulder against the door jamb and slid his hands inside his pockets. “If memory serves me, lunch is `bout takin’ a break from work.”

“Not from work. From you.” He looked stunned right before his jaw tightened in an angry expression. “I’ll be back in one hour.” Turning her back to him, she left him like that.

“Hold on there, Goldilocks.” And didn’t she keep right on walking away from him? Yeah, he was a bit surprised and upset over this unprovoked attitude of hers but then again, she proved to be difficult right from the moment they met. “Tha’s alright,” he muttered to himself as he watched the sway of her hips until she disappeared around the corner of a partition. “We’ll be spendin’ all kinds `f time together. Very soon.” He made an executive decision right there and closed his door, prepared to make a phone call to set things in motion. Miss ‘Just Plain Buffy’ was in for a surprise.


Still with me even if the road might be a tad bumpy? Don’t worry about Buffy, she doesn’t take Spike’s shit, she gets her digs in on him thru the whole story, trust me, *winks*. Have a fab week everyone.

Wednesday………
READ THE WARNING ABOVE
Bringing Spike up to par on all the potential accounts MDIG was after took all of Monday and Tuesday, severely setting Buffy back in her own workload. He inquired about every minute detail of every aspect imaginable for each account. The thing that irked her more than anything was the fact the information was in the frigging files, right there in black and white, plain for anyone to see if they cared to look. But did he bother to look through them himself? No, of course not. Why would he when he had her to fill him in instead so he didn’t have to lift a finger? Prick!

It was now late Wednesday afternoon and with Friday being the deadline to turn in her own personal report, she was scrambling like crazy to get caught up. Scrambling like crazy and being driven crazy by Spike. She wanted to scream every time he rang for her to bring him this or that. And if he calls me ‘pet’ one more time, I won’t bother to bark, I’ll just bite! She must have made the long walk to his office at least twenty times, ten of which he’d asked her to stay to discuss more business with him. And the worst part? She was fairly certain the blond menace was enjoying it! She felt like a goddamned hamster running inside an exercise wheel for no other fucking purpose than for the cage master to watch in amusement.

To add to her dismay, it was all legitimate, work-related things he kept calling her for, too. Mostly regarding accounts from years ago they’d lost for one reason or another as he wanted to see why so he could formulate plans with her to get them back over time. She couldn’t even call his bluff for keeping her in his office because he remained focused on whatever task was at hand. At the end of the day, she begrudgingly had to admit she was impressed with his brilliance when discussing strategies.

During one of her trips to see him, her arms were laden with so many folders that it prevented her from properly seeing where she was stepping, resulting in her heel getting snagged on a small gap in the carpet. In an effort not to fall on her face she reared back but it was too late and she only managed to snap the heel in two. Pissed, she returned to her cubicle and hastily super-glued it back together. If that wasn’t enough, when she did finally make it to Spike’s office, he reprimanded her for tardiness. In her fury, she forgot the fragile state of her shoe when stomping her foot in anger and lost her balance as the heel broke off again. Being only a few feet away, Spike rushed to her ‘rescue’ by catching her in his arms right before she hit the floor.

He caused, well, ‘sort of’ caused all this to happen. No, not ‘sort of’, it is his fault, she decided. First by making her scurry at his beck and call and then with his stupid scolding which subsequently landed her in an extremely vulnerable position. And feeling herself tremble uncontrollably in his strong embrace only made her resentment towards him increase ten-fold. He, on the other hand, just smirked, no doubt loving every minute of it.

Thank God she remembered she kept a spare pair of simple black heels under her desk because it turned out super glue didn’t adhere well under the weight of her temper.

~~~*~~~

“Yes, Mr. Giles?” she asked exasperated when her phone lit up, yet again, with his extension. She listened as he asked for more reports and after finishing the conversation, came to the conclusion she should be a good assistant, go above and beyond the call of duty. Wonder how you’ll like them apples I’m going to serve you, Mr. Giles!

Spike had to admit he was getting a kick out of seeing Buffy so irritated even if it truly couldn’t be helped. Well, maybe it could if he reduced the number of times he called her. However, he did need everything he asked for and the perk of getting to watch her walk away with that amazing arse swaying from side to side afterwards was worth her ire. Plus, he couldn’t deny the pleasure he got from seeing her breasts heave with every frustrated breath she took, or jiggle enticingly when she waved her arms about every time she complained or told him off. But the one thing he enjoyed the most, would never forget, was how supple her body felt when he’d kept her from falling earlier that day. So soft and warm as she bent backwards in his arms yet full of energy while wriggling deliciously against him as she struggled to disentangle herself from his grip. Why’d she have to have a second pair of shoes at work anyway? I could live with havin’ to hold her up every once in a while, or all day. Bloody hell… all night long!

Sitting at his desk, arms folded behind his neck, he left his door open and waited for her. When she showed up later than expected, carrying a sizeable amount of color-coded files with her and a sweet smile, he knew something wasn’t right. Chit’s up to somethin’.

Plopping her load down loudly on his desk, she addressed him in a sugary tone. “This should be everything you could possibly want for the rest of the week.” Ha! Take that, Mister.

“I don’ understand, luv.”

Don’t understand my ass! She dropped the act, more than tired of this game. “It occurred to me how systematic you’ve been in your requests all day, and I do mean all day. And what kind of assistant would I be if I didn’t anticipate your needs?”

“Huh?” The word ‘needs’ had his thoughts spinning in a much different direction than she most likely meant.

“Do me a favor and stop insulting me by acting clueless. We both know what you’re trying to do to me, making me walk back and forth all day.” Nodding her head towards the pile on his desk, she explained. “These are the rest of the files of the accounts we lost and the ones under those are all our current clients. I think you can keep yourself busy with those and stop pestering me so I can get my work done.” She was so proud of herself she was willing to bet nothing he could say would make her lose her cool.

Good thing she wasn’t into gambling!

“Wha’s the matter, kitten?” He pouted sympathetically at her well thought out plan. “You’re not willin’ to walk back and forth to see me anymore?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, you-you patronizing... asinine, bleached.... erghhh!” Her eyes were ablaze with rage. Damn him to hell for that-that irritating… annoying… illegally sexy bottom lip. Just the way he stuck it out there with his sad, sky blue eyes made her weak in the knees. Luckily, her anger overrode any swooning she may have done if he weren’t such a jerk, sitting there chuckling at her. “And stop calling me pet names. I have a real one... William.”

“Awwww, `m sorry. How `bout I make it up to you, yeah? Make things easier for you?” He was half tempted to inform her of his little plan, but the chance to watch her flip out on Friday when she saw the changes he’d scheduled to be made, well, yeah... he’d been accused more than once of being evil.

“Look, Spike. I’m tired, I’m stressed, I’m going to have to stay late in order to catch up on my reports and it’s that time of the month.” Did I really just say that? She dismissed the embarrassment that threatened to creep in and undermine her anger. “In other words... don’t fuck with me!” That last bit of unnecessary information wiped the smirk right off his face... for a moment… before his familiar leer resurfaced.

He opened a drawer and pulled out a bag of assorted Hershey miniatures, placing it on the desk in front of her. “I hear chocolate during a woman’s uhmm, particular time is the perfect mood enhancer. You’re welcome to the whole bag `cause I need you to stay right now so we can go over somethin’.” He watched her face turn a gorgeous shade of red, then she drew a few calming breaths before responding.

“I’m not paid enough to put up with this shit,” she said more to herself than him as she crossed her arms over her chest while looking off into space. “You were hired supposedly because you’re some kind of whiz kid with all your… experience. I’m sure you can figure things out for yourself.” Maybe taunting his male pride will get him off my back.

“You have nooooo idea jus’ how experienced I am... pet!” He waggled his brows at her. “When you’re done raggin’ it, perhaps I can show you, yeah?” Getting up, he slowly made his way around his desk, running his fingers seductively along the edge, eyes hooded with lust.

“Yeah, okay, u-huh. And that’s supposed to make me what? Want to fall into bed with you?” God, everything’s a ‘come fuck me’ invitation to him! She remained where she was as he came to stand in front of her, mere inches away.

“No.” He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms, mimicking her stance. “For that to happen, you’d have to be slightly less than the frigid bitch you are.”

“Hey! I might be a bitch, but I am so not frigid.” His words stung more than she let on but what did she care? He shot her an accusatory look. “Only towards you.”

“Can’ imagine why when you could put your hands on my hot tight li’l body and I wouldn’ do a thing to stop you.” Lord knows he wished she would. He hadn’t had sex since leaving London for New York and that for him was as close to celibacy as he ever wanted to get.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” Although it did conjure up images of a naughty nature that nearly had her blushing when remembering what it felt like to be in his arms earlier that day.

“Tell me somethin’, pet. Wha’s the real reason for your knickers bein’ in a twist aside from the possibility you put your plug in sideways?”

“The fact you’re still breathing is number one on a very long list of reasons and oh-my-God... crude much?” She couldn’t believe she was having this kind of conversation with someone who not only was the most irritating man alive, but also her boss! Her seriously annoying, attractive, irritatingly sexy, hot… whoa! Stop right there, Buffy. There will be no lusting after your boss who also happens to be a boy… all with the raging hormones, and womanizing ways, and-and probably sticking his thingy in… ewww! She didn’t want to think about how many skanks he’d more than likely had… ewww!

“If you’re quite finished now, we have work to do.” He swore she was going to kiss him when she suddenly took a step towards him and leaned in so close their noses nearly touched. His lips parted a fraction at the thought of her mouth on his, nostrils breathing in her sweet scent, cock hardening when he glanced down her shirt to see the delicate lace edge of her bra... Instead, she reached around him to grab the bag of chocolate then went to sit down on the couch.

“You better pray you’re right about the chocolate,” she mumbled before steeling herself for whatever provocation he was sure to throw her way next.

~~~*~~~

Later, at Willy’s, she plopped her weary ass down and didn’t say a word when he filled her glass with the usual.

“Tired?” he asked, concerned. She always had a smile ready for him, but as he watched her down her glass in one long, steady gulp and motion for another, he became worried. One was her limit, as in always, but he poured her a second regardless. “Or trying to drown your sorrows?”

“Both,” she sighed dejectedly, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Wanna talk about it?” As a bartender he was used to lending an ear to customers, but this woman was one of the few whose company he actually enjoyed so it was no bother to him at all.

Grimacing with distaste as she thought about Spike, she asked, “Remember the creep from last Friday?”

“The bleached-blond?” She nodded. “Yeah, hard to forget about him after what happened. I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he offered sympathetically.

“Well, guess who my new boss is?”

His eyes widened at her implication. “Him? You gotta be shitting me. Really? But I thought you were getting promoted, that it was a sure thing.”

“Yeah, you and me both. Turns out it wasn’t. The worst part of it all is that I leased a new, super-expensive apartment and paid six months upfront because I expected to get the job.”

“Hmmm, that sucks.” He reached out and stilled her hand that was currently fraying the edges of a napkin. He was one of the very few men who wasn’t afraid touching her like this would result in the loss of a limb.

“Beyond the telling of it.” She welcomed the contact, knowing Willy was only being supportive and would never overstep any boundaries with her.

“Well, the way I see it, you have the brains, experience and good looks to get any job you want.” He shrugged showing he meant what he said as nothing more than a mere fact. “Any company would die to have you and you know it. Perhaps it’s time to start looking elsewhere where they’ll appreciate your talent? And hey, at least you paid for six months on your new place… anything can happen during that time.”

“I know you’re right, it’s just I’ve worked long and hard to get where I am now and to have some kid just waltz in and yank the rug out from under me stings. And he won’t leave me alone either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the way he was hitting on me last Friday… let’s just say he made that look like pig-tail pulling.” She so didn’t want to repeat all the innuendoes Spike threw her way that made her pulse race and her skin flush… in the worst possible way, of course.

“Unbelievable!”

“Amen to that.” She took a small sip of her wine this time, knowing no good would come from any more gulping.

“Can’t you tell someone?”

“Well, if I do its going be his word against mine, and it’s not like he’s done anything. He’s just… stressing me out.”

“You know, if you wanna hire some muscle, I can keep it on the down low, keep it discreet. Nothing permanent-” He held both hands up, palms out in a reassuring gesture. “-just rough him up a bit.” He hated the thought of Buffy being harassed like that. Yes, she wasn’t one to be messed with, but if the guy was planning on abusing his authority, bullying her into something she didn’t want to do or worse, threaten her job if she didn’t… well, he’d personally do whatever he could to help prevent that from happening.

“No. That’s not necessary, but thanks. I can handle him, it’s just wearing me out I suppose with the extra work he has me doing aside from my own.”

“You sure? We could have his ride busted or something!”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “I’m sure.”

“You’re a good woman, Buffy. I hate to see you go through something of this nature.” He squeezed her hand affectionately. “If you ever change your mind, you lemme know and it’s as good as done. Got a few people who owe me favors and all.”

“I doubt I’ll ever resort to that, but it’s nice to know you’ve got my back if I need it.” Besides, if push came to shove, literally, she could rough Spike up on her own. She’d taken enough self defense classes since moving to New York to make sure she could handle herself on these rough streets.

~~~*~~~

Thursday………

“Damnit!” Buffy cursed in the elevator when she looked down to find a giant run in her stocking. Why do I get the feeling it’s going to be a bad day? The doors opened just then and the moment she stepped forward, so did the person on the other side trying to enter. The collision was mild and apologies were exchanged but as her reflection came into view when the silver doors came together, she saw the huge coffee stain on her skirt caused by the run-in. Because it is going to be a bad day.

Making her way to her cubicle, she began wondering if she was cursed. Rather than seeing her things lying neatly where she’d left them late last night, there was nothing, as in nothing at all. No computer, no files, no rolodex... the desk was barren except for the phone.

She looked around and found several pairs of eyes watching her, all of which immediately went back to whatever they were doing.

“Anyone care to tell me where my things are?” she asked, her voice full of righteous irritation. No one bothered to look her way. “Don’t all speak at once!” Oh-my-God! Maybe I’m being fired, she thought, starting to panic before thinking that it would be a blessing and, therefore, couldn’t be true. Especially not with the way her morning was unfolding.

She saw Cordelia approach from the direction of the break room and cornered her.

“Cordy, where are my things?” The pretty brunette shook her head.

“All I can tell you is it was Mr. Giles. You’ll have to talk to him.” She shrugged and sat down at her desk without another word. She so didn’t want to be the one to tell her friend what the new VP had done.

Buffy’s heart hit her throat. Maybe she was getting canned. Spike was in a position to make that happen and they weren’t exactly getting along. Panic gripped her again. She needed this job, at least for now. It was the only way to hold onto her apartment past the six months rent she’d spent her savings on. Could things get any worse?

Great, now she’d probably gone and jinxed herself by even thinking that question. She inwardly cringed before deciding to get it over with once and for all. If she was going to be fired by the obstinate ass, she was going to have her say before leaving the building.

~~~*~~~

Spike sat down and admired the changes to his spacious office. He personally hand picked the expensive, high quality items and supervised the arrangement of everything by coming in early to work. The last thing he’d done before sitting down to await Buffy’s arrival was placing the gift he’d used his own money to purchase for her in the top drawer of the desk.

“How dare you!”

Not quite the response he was expecting, but something close to it. “Good mornin’ to you too, luv.” He took in the state of her appearance and cocked an eyebrow. Seemed her morning wasn’t starting out too well judging from the state of her clothes.

“Are you such a coward that you can’t fire me face to face and let me remove my own things? And stop smirking at me.”

The situation was truly comical, he couldn’t help it. “What makes you think I’d fire the best assistant a bloke could ask for, hmmm?” She stood there speechless. There’s a first, he mused. “Take a good look around, pet.” He smiled as her eyes scanned his handiwork.

She was already glancing at the obvious changes to his office. Sitting perpendicular to the right of his desk was a slightly smaller but very expensive looking, solid cherry wood desk and leather back swivel chair. However, that’s not what made her eyes go wide. It was the fact that all her personal items were arranged neatly on the top of it along with newer things like a Tiffany banker’s lamp, a new laptop and phone.

“What kind of a sick joke is this?” She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all.

“Not a joke. I took the liberty of movin’ you in here with me.”

“Wh-what?!?! Why would... wait a minute.” She was still holding her purse and coffee and thought about turning around and leaving without another word. “This is insane.” She closed her eyes. “I’m just having a really bad dream and I’m going to wake up any moment now.” The irritating sound of his chuckle broke through her wishful thinking. “Why? Tell me why so when I’m escorted out of here after murdering you I can feel even more justified.”

His response came out sounding far too pleasant for her taste.

“You brought it to my attention a couple `f days ago that you were tired of walkin’ back and forth to see me. I remedied that by movin’ you in here with me to save you any future hassle.” If he could, he would pat himself on the back for that one.

“I take it back then.” He shook his head at her.

“Be reasonable, Buffy. You’re my assistant and `cause `m in constant need of your assistance... it only makes sense. `Sides, I ordered new furniture and equipment to help make you more comfortable. What do you think of your new desk?” She looked absolutely outraged.

“I am not moving in here with you. Please have my things packed in a box. I’m going back to my cubicle. Right now!”

“Sorry. No can do, luv. Someone else is fillin’ your old spot as we speak.” She was sounding like a spoilt brat and it began to grate on his nerves. He was the boss and she was supposed to accept what he said, and that was that! Besides, women didn’t say no to him over any issue, a mock token of protest at most, but Buffy had already surpassed that quota because her ‘no’… really meant no.

“I don’t care what you have to do,” she raised her voice. “Un-fill it!”

“Now-now. No need for tantrums, pet, we’re both adults and `sides... I need you.” He’d give her one more chance to stop arguing against his authority before losing his temper.

“What?!?!” Did he actually do this thinking it would facilitate his plan of seducing her? “No. There will be no needing here... of any kind.”

This amused him to no end. “I was talkin’ shop, luv.” Oh well. Since she was already thinking along those lines, he got up and walked to stand in front of her and whispered, “But, if you have other things in mind?”

“I am not staying here,” she gritted her teeth and resolved there was no way she’d stay here without blood being spilt. And to answer her previous question, yes, it seemed things could get worse. Before she could move, however, he unexpectedly relieved her of her purse and coffee then took her hands in his and slowly walked backwards, taking her with him. “Spike, I’m serious.” He gave her a mischievous yet dead sexy grin and she wondered if he possessed the ability to thrall as she didn’t have the will to resist him.

“I hear you’re serious.” He could tell he was wearing her down and he’d rather use charm, not authority, in order to get her to accept her change of location. “I need you, you need to work and since I can’ work out there, the time seemed right to bring you in here.” He let go of her and placed a hand to the chair behind her new desk, giving it a push so it swung in circles. “Come on now... give it a spin.”

She let out a big dramatic sigh. “I don’t have a choice in this matter. Do I?” He shook his head while guiding her gently by the shoulders to sit down.

“I personally ordered the desk and chair special for you. Only the best for my girl.”

Looking up at him, she could tell his smile was one of hope. Hope that she would appreciate the fancy furniture. It was nice, but she wasn’t in the mood to give him the satisfaction of showing she liked it. And what was with the ‘his girl’ bit? She wanted to throw a fit over the whole possessive tone thingy but inwardly decided to let it go. “Overspending the company’s money I see?”

“Not all ‘f it was purchased with company money.” He winked and walked back to his own desk.

She chose to ignore that. He was an idiot if he thought she believed he used his own money for any of this. “Where’s my in-box?” That was the only thing missing of hers as far as she could tell.

“Oh, right. You’ll be happy to know I’ve permanently reassigned your entire workload.” He waited for her second outburst. Three, two, one...

“You did WHAT?!?! Spike, that’s my work, my job... all those deadlines a-and…” The stern look on his face as he held up a hand stopped her mid-sentence.

“Your only responsibility now is me and whatever I need you to do. This isn’ open for debate, Buffy. Startin’ tomorrow, you’ll be accompanyin’ me to all client meetings.”

“What?” That was unexpected. She and Cordelia would sometimes make a team effort to land certain accounts but for the most part, she went to meetings alone. “Why?”

“Because you’re good. Bloody well brilliant in my opinion. After listenin’ to you the last couple `f days, I realized that by workin’ together we can accomplish far more than I ever could on my own.”

She crossed her arms defensively. “Bolstering my ego isn’t going to make me feel any better about this arrangement.” And even if it does, you’re never gonna know about it. So there!

“`M simply statin’ a fact, Buffy.” The chit really doesn’ know how to take a compliment. “The truth is... you should have gotten this job. Not me.”

Huh? From the look on his face to his tone of voice, he seemed genuinely sincere, leaving her stunned.

“But as fate has already played itself out and I feel your talents could be put to better use than they are currently, `m settin’ new parameters for your position. I don’ need a bloody memo-taker, luv. I want you with me. We’ll make a good team and you’ll receive more commission checks this way.” Her expression was blank, making it impossible to tell what she was thinking. “Okay?”

She hesitated, searching for something to say but all that came out of her mouth was, “Okay.”

“Good.” All in all, this went much smoother than he expected it to. “There’s an external drive located in the bottom right hand drawer. Everythin’ from your old computer is on it though I doubt you’ll need most `f it now. I configured your new laptop as well.”

“Uhmm, thank you?” She opened the drawer he’d indicated and sure enough, there sat the drive.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled warmly at her. “Whenever you’re ready... I have a list of calls I want you to make. Our schedules are linked.” He tapped on his own laptop so she understood. “So any appointments you make won’ overlap.”

“I can do it now.” She shrugged her jacket off then extended her hand, feeling annoyed over just how grateful she was that she didn’t have to chase down the hall to see him anymore. That and the fact he’d given her the opportunity to earn more money. He was making it difficult right now to be upset with him, damnit!

“There’s no rush, luv, take your time.” He handed her the list and made himself busy on his laptop. From the corner of his eye, he kept watch over the next few minutes, waiting for her to discover his gift.

Searching for a memo pad, she opened more drawers, all of which were empty until she got to the one in front of her. Upon pulling it out, there was a rectangular black case tied off in red ribbon with a sticky note attached that read ‘Buffy, Something from me. Spike’. She looked his way but he was engrossed in typing at the moment.

She pulled the ribbon and opened it to find an expensive looking pen inside. Pulling the manufacturer’s paper from inside along with the price tag still attached, she muffled her gasp.

Spike was hitting keys at random while glancing over to see Buffy’s reaction. The last few days they spent working together, he noticed she kept using the same, ratty-looking pen and it drove him nuts to see all the bite marks she’d chewed into it. So he went and purchased a limited edition David Oscarson trophy fountain pen to the tune of $4,200 dollars, hoping to never see that old pen of hers again.

She ran her fingers over the writing instrument in awe while reading the card... Crafted from sterling silver with guilloché design, red with 18K gold vermeil, she read the rest of the specs then promptly closed the case and her drawer. Instead of being impressed, it pissed her off. What was he trying to do? Buy her? Or maybe thought this would also make up for being forced to work in the same room as him? Well it wouldn’t work. She didn’t like people who flaunted their wealth in order to impress or placate her so she had no plans on using it.

He waited for her to say ‘thank you’ but it never came, leaving him even more confused after she closed the drawer and went about work as if she found nothing. Maybe she didn’t want to interrupt him and was waiting for the right moment? Yeah, that was probably it.

~~~*~~~

Lunch rolled around, and after being unsuccessful at trying yet again to get her to join him, Spike announced he didn’t know when he’d be back. “Some personal stuff I have to take care `f.”

“Sure, go right ahead, I’ll be fine,” she muttered under her breath. He gave her the task of creating a whole new portfolio for their meeting tomorrow morning, something she could have used some help with.

“Wha’s that?” He tilted his head sideways at her.

“I said I hope you have a nice time.”

“Right then,” he said, half convinced.

She stuck her tongue out at him as he walked to the door and had to suck it back in quickly when he unexpectedly turned around.

“In case I don’ see you `til tomorrow... wear somethin’ sexy.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“`S for the meeting with Abrams Pharmaceuticals. We’ll be talkin’ with three very stuffy blokes for nearly an hour and it never hurts to show a li’l leg.” Her little huff of outrage made him smile.

“What are you saying? That we can’t get their business if I wore slacks? Or, are you saying you don’t think I’m capable without providing a slutty distraction?”

“Oh, kitten.” He tsk’d her three times.

She didn’t like the evil glint in his eyes as he sauntered towards her in a deliberately slow and sexy manner. He sucked in his cheeks as he leaned over her desk, close to her face, making her heart race as those amazing sapphire eyes stared her down. She froze when he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear then ran a finger down her cheek, stopping underneath her chin. With a deep voice that rumbled like a panther’s purr, she felt her entire body tingle when he spoke.

“You... could wear a burlap sack and sell salvation to a group of atheists.”

She couldn’t speak as he tilted his head slightly to one side while lifting her chin. Her eyes darted to his mouth then back to his eyes, imagining what it would feel like to be kissed by those perfect lips. He leaned in a fraction, making her think he was about to do just that and she swallowed hard.

He could practically taste the sparks of nervousness mixed with desire as they ran from her chin into his fingertip. When she swallowed audibly, he knew all he had to do was lean in. Just lean in and kiss her while she was still in a daze. Not yet. He wanted her fully aware and willing to reciprocate, otherwise she’d blame it all on him.

“`M the one tha’s gonna be bored and in need of somethin’ lovely to look at while you reel `em in.” It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. He knew the moment it registered when those beautiful green eyes of hers turned a shade darker right before she pulled back.

Stupid man with his stupid eyes and lips and... “You’re a pig, Spike.” And that’s all I could come up with? She rolled her eyes internally at her weak come-back while he stood up straight and winked.

“Oink, oink, baby.” He spun around and walked away with a spring in his step. Yup, it was only a matter of time before Miss ‘Ice Queen’ Summers would be melting in his arms.

I so hate him. She wadded up a piece of paper and threw it at his retreating form, missing her mark completely. A ridiculous thought briefly crossed her mind just then of going shopping for an outfit made of burlap. The infantile need to get even with him was overwhelming. She should show up tomorrow wearing super baggy clothes or maybe a really outdated neon dress from a thrift store or...

She suddenly remembered something she already had in her closet; something she was sure that when he saw her in it would have him passing a brick... or two.

I’ll be posting now on a weekly basis, either Monday or Tuesdays. I do hope everyone enjoyed a few chuckles and have a fan-fic-tastic week. Hugs.

Friday………

Spike never made it back to work yesterday and that was just fine with Buffy. Hell, he could take the rest of the damn day off after their meeting this morning for all she cared. Revenge was petty but in the air. And just to see him sweat a little, make him want what he’ll never have just a little bit more? Now that was sweet. Forget the burlap, forget the neon eighties dress, she chose instead to torment him on a level he understood. She knew it wasn’t nice to tease, especially when she had no intentions of ever allowing him near her, but she really couldn’t resist.

She could hear him whistling through the door of their shared office as he came closer so she swallowed her enthusiasm, positioned herself according to plan and geared herself to act as nonchalant as possible despite the erratic beating of her heart.

Spike felt like a million bucks this morning. He’d finally found and secured what he’d been searching for yesterday after leaving work, got an early night’s rest and his jet lag felt like it’d finally worn off. Whistling a happy tune as he reached for the door handle, the only thing he could think of that would possibly make him feel any better was if today were the day Buffy were to...

All the breath in his body left through the last chord of his whistle as it dropped two octaves then fell off the baritone scale altogether. What stared him in the face forced all his blood to head south. Bent over with her arse in the air, picking something up from the floor was Buffy, wearing a short, navy blue skirt that rode up high from her present position revealing the long shapely legs he suspected she had but always kept hidden from his lustful gaze. He just wanted to grab those two perfect globes stretching the material taut and rub his erection between them before…

“You’re late,” she told him upon standing, shuffling the papers she ‘accidentally dropped’ around in her arms.

More like right on time, I wager. She was bustling around the office grabbing things from the filing cabinet, her desk and then his, packing her briefcase as she went. Despite the alluring vision in front of him, something was wrong with this picture, he was sure of it. Too bad there wasn’t enough blood in his body to run both brains simultaneously so he could figure it out.

“There’s no time to make any changes to the portfolio so I hope you like what I came up with.” She continued to appear oblivious to the way he just stood there, gaping at her.

“Uhhh...” He had to clear his throat in order to find his voice. “`M sure however you dressed-er, ahem, changed it up will be fine.” Very fine indeed! His eyes followed her every movement, taking in the details of the ensemble she wore. It wasn’t trashy or flashy by any means, in fact it was very business-like but in an ultra sexy way; a shimmering silver button-up rayon shirt and a skirt that was cut at least four inches above the knee. And the way she left the first three buttons of that shirt undone, well, suffice to say if she bent over just right it could potentially reveal her twin peaks. And bloody hell how that skirt hugged her curves just right... too right! Maybe she was warming up to him, took his suggestion and wore this just for him like he’d-

Hold on a sec. If it made him tight in the pants, wouldn’t it do the same to every bloke that laid eyes on her? He felt a flicker of possessive rage course through him for a second before focusing on what she was saying.

“Here.” She shoved a folder into his hand then grabbed her matching suit jacket. “You can look at it in the car on the way. We need to leave.”

~~~*~~~

The meeting was a bore and they hadn’t even been there ten minutes. Spike did most of the talking leaving Buffy to wonder why he even brought her along in the first place.

Spike’s attention, however, was divided. He did his best to keep his mind on business but found it difficult and was irritated that he couldn’t remain focused.

Sitting next to the blonde goddess with her legs crossed, skirt hitched up to reveal a fantastic view of her thigh, her slender ankle moving up and down as if she were bored drew his eyes to the pointed toe heels that were higher than anything he’d seen her wear before was driving him to distraction. That’s not what irritated him though; it was the fact Parker ‘Playboy’ Abrams, as he was known, was also enjoying the sight, a little too much. The bloke was clearly paying more attention to Spike’s assistant than he was to the business at hand. At least Spike was sure of two things... one, Buffy wouldn’t be open to his advances if the boy were to make any and two, she was clearly unaware of the attention she was being paid... by any of the males in the room.

Wrong!

She was all too aware of Parker eye-fucking her and Spike stealing sideways glances at her whenever he could as well. What she wasn’t tuned into was the fact Spike was becoming so increasingly aggravated with Parker that he had the nerve to occasional shoot challenging looks his way, like two dominant male animals vying for territory.

“I’d like some time to discuss this further with my colleagues before making a final decision.” Parker addressed Buffy, ignoring Spike altogether much as he had from the start of their meeting.

“I understand, Mr. Abrams,” Buffy answered enjoying Spike’s seething mood. “I realize you’re a busy man but perhaps we could arrange a second meeting?” He sat back with a contemplative look on his face before nodding.

“My schedule is tight over the next month buuuut... I might be able to squeeze in lunch sometime next week. If that works for you, Miss Summers?” He didn’t want anything to do with the over-bearing bleached wonder and made it understood he might do business with their company, but he was only willing to deal with Buffy.

Tight schedule my arse, bloody wanker. Spike knew this maneuver like the back of his hand having done it himself a time or two, three, maybe more.

“Absolutely. I appreciate you taking the time, Mr. Abrams.”

“Great. I’ll need to check... hold on. I can do that right now.” He picked up the phone, asking his assistant to check his agenda for him. “How about this upcoming Monday? I’ll make reservations for two at Hirotaro's Ryouriten for twelve thirty?”

“Sounds good. Is there any additional material you’d like me to bring?” Sparing a glance at Spike, she noticed his eyes were narrowed with a dangerous glint behind them and did she just hear him growl?

Spike was livid but in no position to say anything about what was taking place right in front of him. This was business. Business they needed to land and Buffy was apparently the only person Parker wanted to work with even if the ‘business’ the pillock really wanted to land was his assistant.

“No, just bring yourself.” He sat back and smiled triumphantly, already picturing how the blonde would look on all fours in his bed. “I’m confident we can pound out the remaining details. After I’ve had a closer inspection of your... portfolio, of course.”

Creep! She didn’t like the leer that accompanied the not-so-hidden connotation to his choice of words. But hey, what mattered most was that they secure the account, so she forced a polite smile of her own. “Of course.” she echoed him.

Oh, that was fucking it! Spike had had enough. He may not be able to say anything, but he could damn sure do something about squashing Parker’s hopes.

“Well,” Spike started. “I’d like to thank you for your time, Mr. Abrams.” Standing up and grabbing his material off the table, he looked to Buffy. “Ready, Miss Summers?” He waited until the pleasantries of goodbye-handshakes were exchanged and when Buffy turned her back to walk out the door, Spike placed a hand lightly on the small of her back in a subtle gesture of possession.

Parker followed behind them to return to his own office, eyes still trained on Buffy’s legs and backside watching curiously as the platinum blonde retrieved her trench coat off the rack, helping her into it.

Buffy tried not to put much thought into Spike’s gentleman type behavior. He was probably being courteous towards her for show. Yeah, right! It became hard to ignore when he took it upon himself to button her coat up for her like a child and when walking out the door into the chilly New York air, held the door open with one hand while the other went to her waist. Innocent enough until she walked forward and he slid a firm hand further down towards her bottom.

Once outside, he moved his arm back up around her shoulders, hugging her close as if protecting her from the wind, intending to walk her to the car like this when she tried to push him away.

“What are trying to pull, Spike?” He tightened his grip so she couldn’t get away and she noted for the first time with surprise just how strong he actually was.

“I should ask you the same, pet,” he grumbled and glanced over his shoulder noting with a satisfied smirk that Parker was still watching them. “Now, keep walkin’.”

“What the hell are you talking about? If you don’t take your hands off me right now-”

“You’re gonna what?” he sneered. “Cause a scene? Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “You’re not that bloody stupid.”

Erghh! Did he think she was stupid? Oh, he was so going to get it the second they were out of sight. She huffed in irritation while watching him dismiss their driver with a wave and open the door to the company car for her. When his hand, again, found its way too low on her backside, her temper got the better of her. As soon as he closed the door behind them, she went to slap him across the face.

He anticipated she might do this and snatched her wrist with lightening speed before her palm ever made contact with his face.

“Eh-eh-eh, pet. No time for foreplay.” He grabbed her other wrist so she couldn’t get away, pinned them to her sides and made his move.

His mouth came crashing down on hers, catching her off-guard. Tiny whimpers of protest formed in her throat but when she parted to lips to give them voice, he slipped his tongue inside.

Tha’s more like it! He took full advantage of her need for air so he could taste her. And bloody hell if she wasn’t sweeter than jam, causing his cock to spring to life.

She struggled, she really did, but his kiss was so demanding. He took total possession of her mouth and her senses with the feel of those beautiful lips on hers. The way he was devouring her felt like a powerful drug that soon had her lids fighting a useless battle to remain open. A flicker of desire crackled beneath her skin and she became feverish as it spread like wildfire throughout her entire system. She felt a tingling sensation begin building deep in her belly and then a warm, wet sensation between her legs. That’s when she woke up from the spell induced lip lock.

He moved his tongue across hers, over and over and just when she began to respond to him, the little minx managed to shove him away and land a stinging blow to his cheek that had him chuckling.

He hadn’t wanted to force a kiss on her, he really didn’t, he wanted her to be willing but his anger towards Parker overrode his ability to remember that. “Trust me, luv, `m doin’ you a favor.” She looked positively flustered, an adorable look on her if he did say so himself.

“A favor? You-you arrogant piece of shit! How dare you?!?!”

Oh, he more than dared. He was protecting her virtuous interests. And his interest, frustratingly enough, had become the virtue of one fiery Buffy Summers. “Parker wouldn’t dream of tryin’ anythin’ at lunch with you... now that he thinks you’re mine.” Naturally he refused to acknowledge the jealousy he’d felt earlier to be anything more than temporary insanity. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be at the same restaurant come Monday to keep his eye on the git either. If he even thinks about making a pass at her, I’ll rip his throat out.

“I do not need to look like I belong to anybody. For any reason. If we lose this deal because of what you just did, I-” He interrupted her by laughing at her outburst which served as fuel for her temper. “That kiss was pointless.” She rapped her knuckles against the window. “This is tinted glass, you moron.”

Oooops?!?! Oh well. Sometimes the best laid plans… He sat back, spreading his legs wide in the process and framed his manhood by hooking both thumbs through his belt, all with a deep smirk gracing his lips. “Huh. Imagine that.” Giving him a murderous look, she situated herself into the far corner of the seat.

Glancing at the driver who was staring curiously at them from the rearview mirror, she barked, “What are you looking at?”

“N-nothing, ma’am.”

“Drive!” Okay, she didn’t mean to take it out on him necessarily, but the source of her greatest irritation had reduced her to total bitch status. As the chauffer pulled out into traffic, she brought her attention back to Spike. Lowering her voice, she ground out, “Don’t talk to me. Matter of fact, don’t even look at me.”

It turned out he was deaf as well as dumb because he tried to engage her in conversation several times before she pulled her iPod from her purse and effectively ‘tuned’ him out during the short ride back to the office.

Arriving at the front entrance of their building, the driver promptly got out and opened the back door on his side for Buffy.

“Ma’am.” He tipped his hat then held out his hand.

Guilty didn’t begin to describe how she felt for snapping at him earlier, but when Spike came bounding around to her side, offering his own hand to help her out of the car, she quickly grabbed the driver’s instead. “Look, Mr.-”

“Owen, ma’am. You can call me Owen.” Her smile was sincere, but he didn’t miss the fact she was also using this small chat with him to snub her co-worker. It was obvious she hadn’t welcomed his ‘attentions’ earlier judging from the hand print on the guy’s face.

“I’m really sorry for getting snippy earlier, Owen. I shouldn’t have directed my anger at-” Her eyes darted to Spike who stood there miffed that she was disregarding him completely. “-you. And please, call me Buffy.”

“It’s quite alright, ma... Buffy.” Tipping his hat again as soon as she dropped his hand, he returned her smile, closed the door and watched her walk away while the man she’d called Spike continued standing there next to him. When Owen turned to find he was being glared at, he dropped his smile after a nervous cough and got back in the car. He didn’t mean any disrespect, but the platinum blond executive was unquestionably jealous and in one deadly look, had staked his claim over the woman… whether she accepted it or not.

The doors to the elevator were inches from shutting when she saw Spike sprinting towards her. She waved her fingertips ‘bye-bye’ with a sarcastic smile as they were about to close, but unfortunately he was as fast as he was strong.

She huffed and crossed her arms as the doors came together after he got in.

“We need to talk.” Whether or not she saw it as such, he had done her a favor and he’d make sure she at least understood that if not appreciate it. Setting aside Parker’s infamous reputation when it came to women, Spike got a vibe he definitely didn’t like from the dark haired pillock and didn’t want Buffy anywhere near him by herself.

Couldn’t God cut her a break? Just this once? It wasn’t too much to ask for an elevator ride alone, was it? “No... we really don’t.” She reached a finger out and pressed ‘2’. Spike could take this elevator if he wanted, but she would be catching another.

“What are you doin’?” Stupid question when he could tell she was preparing to get off on the second floor. “No-no-no.” His hand hit the emergency stop button before turning on her. “This `s gonna stop. Right now!” The bint `s more stubborn than I am!

“You’re right. It is.” She pressed ‘go’ to get them moving again and gave him a triumphant little ‘hmmph’.

Bloody bitch! He struck the ‘stop’ button again, but with a little more force this time. “We’re not done here.”

“Yes-” she slapped her palm over the ‘go’ button. “-we are.”

It became a face off, both hitting their respective buttons one right after the other, moving faster and faster with each successive turn until it became a blur of limbs. Well, if she was going to act like a child, then he bloody well was going to treat her like one. He smashed his fist over his button then blocked the panel with his body.

Cl-clunk!!!

A few groans more of the cable followed by another clunk and the elevator shifted, throwing them slightly off balance.

Spike ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly while Buffy pressed ‘go’ repeatedly then tried every other button before it was blindingly obvious they weren’t going anywhere. With a perfectly French manicured index finger pointed in his face, she accused him, “This is so your fault.”

“My fault?” he cried. “If you woulda jus’ talked to me instead of bein’ so bloody stubborn…”

“Me stubborn? If you could see past yourself long enough to recognize when a woman doesn’t want to talk, you would have let me get off the elevator. But noooooooo, all Spike cares about is getting his way. You’re such a-a spoilt little rich boy. You disgust me.”

That hit a nerve. Granted, it was true, but it really set him off. “I disgust you?” he chuckled. So she wanted to play Miss High-and-Mighty, hmmm? “Tha’s not what your kiss told me.”

“Uhh!” she gasped in outrage. “Get over yourself.”

Unfazed and unconvinced by her retort, he shrugged. “Proof’s in the puddin’, sweetheart.” However fleeting the moment, she had kissed him back... telling him all he needed to know even if she had yet to realize it.

She didn’t have a comeback she was that angry right now, so she plucked the phone from out of the control panel and held it out. “Why don’t you put your mouth and all that hot air coming out of it to better use by getting us the hell out of here?” When he snatched it from her, she turned her back on him, mainly because she needed to gather her thoughts. Despite the current annoyance of him even breathing, she was still trying to rationalize with herself over what happened in the car. His mouth was so warm, lips so soft despite the firm kiss and the way his tongue caressed hers... She shuddered. He’d made her body react in a way that was beyond her control. He’d tricked her. He’d made her like it, and she didn’t like that she’d liked it at all.

“Looks like we’re stuck for a bit, pet.”

“What?” She whipped around in time to see him snapping his cell phone shut.

“Phone doesn’ work and I can’ get a signal with my cell. Shouldn’t take long before someone notices the elevator isn’ workin’ and come fix it.”

Great! Just fucking great! Now she was not only stuck in a confined space with Spike, but for an indefinite period of time? There must be a higher power out there she’d pissed off.

He watched her sigh then slump down the wall to sit on the floor, stretching her legs out in front of her. Copying her example, he asked, “Can we talk now?”

“Say what you have to say then please... just leave me alone,” she said tiredly. Might as well just let him have his way. It wasn’t like she had anywhere she could go at the moment. Maybe afterwards, he’d afford her some peace and if not, there was always lunchtime where she could get away from him.

“I don’ want you seein’ Parker outside of that meetin’. He’s bad news.” She looked at him as if he were stupid.

Shaking her head, she couldn’t believe that that was what he considered so important to get off his chest as to break the stupid elevator. She knew of Parker’s womanizing reputation, hell, everyone did. Then she got mad. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Spike. I have no intentions of seeing Parker anywhere beyond that lunch, okay? And though I appreciate your concern, you need to understand something... you’re my boss, not my father.” She watched the muscles in his jaw twitch.

“You’re right. I am your boss, and as your boss `m tellin’ you to keep it strictly professional... with any man in the circle of this company’s business dealings.” Bracing himself for the anticipated impact of her verbal attack, she surprised him when she closed her eyes and responded with a weary ‘that won’t be a problem’.

There was nothing but silence over the next fifteen minutes for which she was grateful. She briefly thought about pounding on the doors of the elevator to get the attention of anyone near enough to hear, but she was too damned tired and the silence she was being graced with was blissful. If she just kept her eyes closed, she could almost pretend Spike wasn’t here with her. Almost. He only wore a hint of cologne, but it was the smell of his masculinity that bothered her... it was intoxicating. She found her thoughts wandering down a road where, disturbingly enough, she imagined what lay beneath his expensive suit, the muscles she’d felt when he held her on the way to the car. As if on cue, the sudden rustling of clothes made her eyes pop open.

Spike had taken his suit jacket off and was loosening his tie, preparing to take that off, too. She closed her eyes again but the sounds didn’t stop. This time when she opened them, she saw him making quick work of the buttons on his shirt until he lost that as well and was wrestling his white tank top from the waistband of his pants. “What the hell are you doing?”

Not appreciating the tone of her voice or the fact she was backing herself into the corner as if threatened, he asked, “Are you bloody daft? In case you haven’ noticed, ‘s hot in here.”

The lack of circulating air in the elevator gave noticeable rise to the temperature, but she suddenly felt the heat in an entirely different way as she blushed when Spike removed his undershirt. Oh, she tried not to stare, but his chest, shoulders... and-and those abs... Sure, she had an idea as to how fit he might be, but the notion was shattered when the man revealed such definition in his physique as to put Brad Pitt to shame.

“You should take off your jacket before you overheat.” He noted the stain in her cheeks, not quite sure whether she was hot, or bothered. Hopefully both, as long as he was the cause.

“I-I’m fine.” Anything but if she were honest. He was the one who was absolutely ‘fine’ in her estimation and oh-my-God! She actually had to remind herself again... he was her boss and a royal jerk. She couldn’t afford to be attracted to him; no good could come from that.

“Suit yourself.” Fumbling around in his suitcase, he pulled a slender, six ounce bottle of water from it and cracked the cap. After taking a sip, he offered it to her. “Best to keep hydrated... under the circumstances.”

He gave her a wink and she immediately refused, pulling her jacket tightly around herself despite the trickle of sweat she could feel dripping down her spine and shrinking even further away from him.

It was thirty minutes later before workers showed up and got the elevator running again to release the stranded couple and thank God he redressed himself after the first sign of the cable car starting to move. She was already mortified at the indecent thoughts running unbidden through her mind about Spike, but to have anyone see the two of them had spent that much time trapped together, and with half his clothes laying the floor? Even if she was fully dressed? A world of ‘no thanks’.

~~~*~~~

When the doors finally opened on their floor, she announced, “Unless its work related, don’t talk to me.” Then she flounced ahead of him towards the office.

And for the rest of the day, that’s exactly what happened. He tried; Lord knows he did, several times to engage her in regular everyday conversation, but when she either ignored him or repeated that same statement, he got fed up.

“Fine. Here’s business related.” He slammed a stack of reference books and folders on her desk an hour before quitting time. “I want all `f these reports finished and on my desk by Monday mornin’.”

She shot him a contemptuous look. “It’s Friday and almost four o’clock, Mr. Giles. It’ll take me at least a full day to compl-”

“`S not open for discussion. Get it done!”

She watched him grab his briefcase and jacket then head for the door. “Where are you going? It’s not five yet.”

“I have other things to tend to.” He did. Sort of. He felt the need to leave the hostile environment she’d created and go home to kick off the beginning of a long, relaxing evening. So what if he left her with enough work for two days straight. She wanted to be all about business… fine! He’d give her enough ‘business’ to last her all weekend. Come Monday, he expected to see a lot more bite marks on that raggedy pen of hers since the chit was also being stubborn about accepting the gift he so carefully picked out, hoping she’d like it. And did she? No, probably not. He didn’t even receive the slightest acknowledgement, not even a thank you! Bloody bint!


Next chapter we’ll see the ‘24/7’ come into play – be prepared for more sparks. Again, check out the new fic called The Road to Redemption by Sandara – very original and the writing is superb. Have a great week.

Late Friday evening………

Armed with a ton of perseverance and a pot of coffee, Buffy managed to finish the reports Spike demanded from her without needing to go back into the office the following day. But she was bone tired for her efforts, had skipped dinner and her usual stop at Willy’s and missed watching Blood Ties since it was now going on eleven PM. Well, at least she was smart enough to set a series recording on her DVR.

Standing in front of her apartment, she sighed with relief as the lock turned, looking forward to a glass of Lambrusco and a relaxing soak in the hot tub on her balcony while admiring the view of the city’s twinkling lights. Only problem with that perfect scenario was she had yet to fill it with water. Oh well, at least she had a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge and a corner garden tub.

What she didn’t expect, when she opened the door, was to find an intruder waiting inside.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” She was thunderstruck! This simply couldn’t be happening to her, could it? She closed her eyes tightly, hoping against hope when she opened them again, he’d disappear. This has to be an illusion! I’m just overtired and have seen so much of him lately that he’s haunting me. But no… things simply couldn’t be that easy. Not for her at least. Sitting on her couch with his feet on her coffee table was Spike, smoking a cigarette, several cartons of half-eaten Chinese take-out surrounding him, watching her TV and… was he drinking her wine, too?!?! It was blasphemy at its worst to her neat-freak religion.

Spike was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him and stood up so fast, he knocked his glass over, the deep red liquid spilling in a huge puddle on the alpine white carpet. “How did you get into my place?”

“Your place?!?!” She left the door open, dropped her briefcase where she stood and ran into the kitchen for a roll of paper towels. “For your information-” She proceeded to soak up the wine as best she could while continuing her rant. “-this is my place.” Standing up, she took his cigarette right out of his hand and extinguished it inside a carton of egg noodles with a huff. “What are you? Some kind of a stalker with lock-picking abilities?”

“Oi, whaddya thi-”

“I suggest you leave right now or I’m calling the cops.”

“Listen here, li’l girl,” he told her, a warning finger pointed right in her face. “This is my place! As in paid for, contract and all.”

They both stared at one another for several seconds; neither knowing what was going on. They both had a key, that much was obvious, but other than that they were dumbfounded as to why either claimed to be the rightful occupant.

Still, for all she knew, he could have lifted her key from her purse and had a copy made while she was in the ladies’ room or something. Right, cuz he has a key making machine hidden away in the office somewhere. Reality check, Buffy.

Not like any of this was going to stop her from throwing him out of her apartment, though! “That’s it! I’m calling the cops.” She pulled her cell from her jacket and prepared to dial 911 when Spike tore it from out of her hand.

“Unless you wanna get cuffed and carted off for breakin’ and enterin’, I suggest not doin’ that.”

“Me? Oh, I don’t think so. Why would I have a key then, hmmm?” She tried to take back her phone but he clutched it tight in his hand.

No way was she going to cause any more problems than the one they currently had on their hands. “Lower your voice, you stupid bint!” he hissed as he walked over to close and lock the door. “I have neighbors.”

She followed right behind him and latched onto the hand that held her cell, trying to pry it free again. “They are not your neighbors, they’re mine.”

“Do I have to bloody gag and bind you?” Hmmm, now tha’s a delicious idea. A little bondage and humiliation might just fix her wagon. Not to mention he’d have loads of fun dominating her. Shaking that thought from his mind, at least for the time being, he told her, “I don’ know wha’s goin’ on anymore than you do. But you need to lower your voice so we can suss this out.”

And that’s exactly what they attempted to do. Apparently each of them had the same contract, paid six month’s rent up front and were handed a key after writing out the check. Fifteen minutes later, Spike suggested it was probably a scam. That it wasn’t uncommon for some con-artist to make a few quick bucks off a place he didn’t really own and then made sure never to be seen again.

He then described how he’d gotten word from a bellhop at the hotel where he’d stayed about the apartment and was given a phone number of who to contact. “It was the reason-” he explained, “-why I had to leave work early this past Thursday… to go meet the landlord and inspect the place.”

Buffy, on the other hand, had met the landlord at Willy’s last week. He’d overheard her conversation with the bartender about possibly moving and proceeded to introduce himself. He’d made an appointment to show her the apartment the very next day and, “I didn’t hesitate to take it.”

And after both compared the physical description of said landlord, it was obvious they’d been ‘had’ by the sleaze-ball.

Spike ran a hand down his face and sighed. “Listen. We’re both in this together and `s too late in the evenin’ to do anythin’ `bout it,” he said in a calm voice while an agitated Buffy started to pace. “Le’s both get some kip and tomorrow mornin’ I’ll make a few phone calls. We’ll find the real landlord, file a police report then take it from there. Alright?”

“Kip?”

“Means sleep.”

“Sleep. Yeah, okay.” She looked around at the mess on the coffee table Spike had created and grimaced in disgust. “But can you please clean this up first? And until we get this worked out… no smoking in the apartment.”

“Fine,” he groused while throwing his hands in the air. “And by the way, since there’s two bedrooms, I chose the one that looks less… girly.” His face contorted at that last word.

“Thank God. Wait… how come you didn’t think someone else might already be living here?” All her belongings were neatly tucked away in her bedroom closet and dresser drawers, so she could understand he wouldn’t assume anyone lived here when looking in there, but there were other clues.

“Uhmm, the fact there’s nothin’ here but furniture?”

Sounded logical, yet still… “But you must have gone into the fridge since you’re drinking my wine. Did you not notice there was yogurt and other things in there as well?” Her ire began to resurface, searching for an outlet, and since the con-artist who was the root of their current problem wasn’t around… Plus it wasn’t like the bleached nuisance hadn’t done more than enough to keep her mad at him for a decade at the very least!

“Oh.” Ooops! “That.” He looked at her sheepishly. “I sorta thought they were left there by the previous tenants so I… tossed it all out. Sorry.”

Annoyed, Buffy closed her eyes and threw a hand up in the air. “Did you even think of checking the expiration dates on those items?” Of course he didn’t, she answered herself right away, he’s a guy and they wouldn’t ask for directions even if lost in the Sahara.

“Look. I said `m sorry. What the bloody hell `s your problem anyway? Did you forget to take your Midol?”

“My problem? My problem is that my boss decided to take advantage of his authority and made me have to stay late at the office today until I finished something that could have waited until Monday.” Throwing him a poisonous look, she almost growled out her next statement, “Take the advice I gave you on Wednesday and don’t … fuck with me. Because at this point-”

“At this point, what you need is a good shaggin’. And if you weren’t on the rag, I’d throw you down on the floor right now and fuck that attitude right outta you.” His nostrils flared as his temper began to rise. The bird was truly infuriating!

“Ahh,” she gasped, outraged. Her mind went blank as it replayed his words, she couldn’t believe he actually said that. The nerve! Who did he think he was? More importantly, what the hell did he think she was? He started to walk away, and not wanting him to have the last word, she asked, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out on the balcony for a smoke while you cool down.”

And just like that, he slid the glass door shut behind him and lit up.

Cool down? Cool down?!?! We’ll see who’s gonna cool down! She hadn’t forgotten he’d called her frigid the other day either. Time to school somebody… she’d redefine ‘frigid’ for him.

As Spike took a second drag off his smoke, he heard a distinct ‘click’ from behind him. He turned around to see one smiling Buffy waving cheerily at him before walking in the direction of the kitchen and out of sight. “Buffy?” Wrapping his fingers around the handle, he tried to slide it open… with no luck. “BUFFY!!! ”

She snickered every time he called out her name, especially when he became louder. Guess he doesn’t care about disturbing the neighbors anymore. She poured herself the last glass of wine that he’d thankfully left in the bottle and headed for the bathroom, intent on taking a long bubble bath to ease the day’s stress. As she passed the double glass doors, Spike banged on them, practically screaming for her to let him in ‘or else’. She stopped momentarily, putting her hand up to her ear and frowned, mouthing the words ‘what, what… sorry, I can’t hear you’. He looked about ready to explode but she was too proud of herself for getting one up on him after what he did to her today to care, hell, everything he’d put her through this week. Before she left the room however, she made sure he heard her when she said, “You seriously need to, ahem… chill out.”

I can’ believe the bloody bitch `s actually goin’ to leave me out here! No, no, he told himself, she wouldn’ really do that. It was January for Christ sakes; he’d catch his death of cold. Surely she wasn’t that pissed at him for making her work late… or was she?

~~~*~~~

Spike got his answer when an hour passed before Buffy went walking past him again; looking all cozy and warm dressed in a pink bathrobe with her hair wrapped up in a towel. She never even looked at him until she came back from the kitchen with a mug of something hot in her hands.

Glad to have discovered Spike hadn’t looked through the cupboards and thrown out her chamomile tea or the rest of her groceries, she prepared herself a cup with honey and sauntered into the living room to settle down and watch Blood Ties. But when she spared a glance at the balcony, she froze. Actually, it was Spike that looked frozen. He stood there, hands tucked under his armpits, visibly shivering and frankly, looking a little blue in the face. Remorse crept into her heart for having left him out there so long. Setting her cup down, she went over and unlocked the door.

He shuffled his way inside as best as his freezing legs would allow, wanting nothing more than to put his hands around her throat - if he could’ve gotten them to work that is. Before he spoke a word, however, Buffy disappeared down the hall and came back with a blanket to wrap around his shoulders. She led him to the couch and sat down with him, rubbing his shoulders to warm him up.

“Y-you’re a-a… b-b-bitch. You kn-know that… r-right?” his teeth chattered as he insulted her.

“Never said I wasn’t, but...” But she wasn’t completely heartless either. Matter of fact she felt guilty as hell right now. “Look, Spike. I’m… I’m sorry.”

“And w-what… you say `m s-sorry and that m-makes it alright? Sorry, pet, b-but-” He took a deep breath, trying to get his voice under control. “-it doesn' work that… w-way.”

“Look, I'm trying to apologize here. Why don't you grow up and just accept it? I could've left you outside but I didn't. That's gotta count for something.”

“Don’ w-want your… soddin’ a-apology,” he gritted through clenched teeth, but when she stopped rubbing his shoulders, he quickly changed his tune. “Don’ stop…………….. p-please?” he begged softly.

And didn’t she melt the instant those sad blue eyes looked her in the face, knowing exactly what he meant? With a nod, she shuffled back into the corner of the couch and helped drag him between her legs. Before she started babying him however, she took the towel off her head and asked that he hand her the remote for the TV.

“There’s a program I recorded that I want to watch,” she told him, then shifted to grab her tea and carefully put it in front of him. “Here, this should make you feel better. Okay?” She wasn’t sure why she was making the effort to soothe him at all, considering he’d made her life hell from the moment they’d met. But he’d never threatened her health. Her mental health maybe, but if he caught pneumonia or what not because of her, well… she couldn’t live with herself then.

“Th-thanks.” He took the proffered tea, delighted when he tasted the honey she added to it. “But you’re still a-a-ACHEW, a bitch.”

“Yeah and you’re still a bastard, but we’re stuck together for the night so let’s put this behind us for now. And… you’re welcome,” she responded more evenly and pressed the appropriate buttons to begin watching her show before setting the remote aside.

To Spike, it felt like heaven as he didn’t even bother watching what was on the telly. Content instead when Buffy used her tiny hands to rub and massage his neck, back, shoulders and arms in an effort to bring the warmth back into his body as he sipped the tea.

By the time her show ended, Spike was quietly snoring with his back against her chest, his head resting on her shoulder. The noises he made droned through her body, along with his slow, warm breath tickling her neck, making her feel more than a tad uncomfortable and she knew she had to wake him. Sure, she was grateful they’d made some kind of amends despite what they’d have to face tomorrow, but for her own sake it was definitely time to distance herself from his sleeping form.

Gently, she nudged him and whispered in his ear, “William. William, it’s time to go to bed.”

“Mmmmm,” he groaned unconsciously then turned on his side to wrap an arm around her waist and nuzzle his cheek between her breasts, his snores ceasing.

As innocent as it was since he’d done this in his sleep, it still made her nervous. Nervous of how good it felt to have him, no, anyone take comfort in her embrace like this - well, except for the face in her breasts bit. She couldn’t let him stay like that though, and she didn’t dare to drift off herself. God knew what kind of un -innocent ideas he might get if they actually woke up like this.

“William, wake up,” she insisted.

He didn’t move an inch, he was obviously deep in sleep and then suddenly, she felt a vibration thrum through her chest when he began to… purr? Oh my God, he purrs, and she couldn’t help but think it was kind of… cute. It was a deep rumbly sound of a man truly content and for a moment, she let her guard down and just looked at him.

His bleached locks were all messy, free from gel, looking so boyishly soft and curly that she wanted to run her fingers through them. And that sinfully plump bottom lip of his was poking out just a bit as if silently pleading ‘kiss me’ and God help her but she almost wanted to at that moment. She followed the sharp contours of his jaw, up along his angular cheeks to where his lids lay closed in slumber and for the first time, she noticed with envy how long and dark the fringe of his lashes were as they hid those smoldering blue eyes of his - it should be illegal for a man to have eyelashes like those when we women have to spend heaps of money on mascaras - right before she realized they were fluttering open to look up at her in confusion.

“It’s time to go to bed, William. It’s late,” she whispered as he yawned and nodded his head. Helping to push him upright, they both stood and walked down the hall together to their respective bedrooms.

Before she opened her door, Spike turned to wish her goodnight before disappearing inside his room.

“Goodnight, William,” she said softly as his door closed then turned into her own room to get some much needed sleep. Tonight had been a disaster, emotionally charged with anger, confusion, revenge and guilt. Her conflicting feelings towards him weren’t helping matters either and she refused to dwell on those for now. Even with the tacit truce they’d formed, tomorrow was going to be rough, and she would need all her mental strength because like it or not, not knowing what was going to happen with the apartment scared her out of her mind.

~~~*~~~

Saturday morning………

When Spike woke up, he felt sicker than a dog. Sniffling, sneezing and coughing his way down the hall towards the kitchen, he spied Buffy in a pair of blue cotton Pj’s pouring herself a cup of coffee. He was prepared to be mad with her seeing as it was her fault he caught a cold, but the culpable face she wore when she looked his way made him let it go.

“Do you want some coffee?” she asked timidly, already grabbing another cup from the cupboard to make him one and avoid staring at his half naked state of dress. He wore nothing but a pair of flannel plaid boxers and it was a bit unnerving to see him like that with the Adonis-like muscles he sported. Not that he didn’t look great in them because okay, totally hot, but she was already blushing from the ‘semi’ beneath the material and prayed to God it wouldn’t poke through the slit in the front.

“Thanks, luv, that’d be nice.” Sitting down at the table, he was surprised when he took his first sip that she knew how he took it. When he began coughing again, she sat across from him with her elbows on the table, looking concerned.

“This is… I’m truly sorry, Spike. I let my hormones get the better of me and, well, I shouldn’t have done what I did. So I’m going to the grocery store this morning to get some medicine and other things that might help make you better. Okay?” She expected him to make some snide remark about her ‘raggin it’, like the one that set her off last night. But instead, he gave her a hopeful look… mingled with a bit of shock.

“You will?” he asked, obviously surprised by her offer.

God, his voice was so hoarse and raspy; she cringed to think she was responsible for that. “Yeah. It’s my fault, so I’ll take care of you… i-if you don’t mind that is.” The look of shock and then the way he smiled sent relief flooding through her system. She didn’t want to fight with him, didn’t want him to go back to being mad at her. Not regarding this situation, at least.

“No, no, `course I don’. `S jus’…” Sighing heavily, he figured he owed her an apology, too. “`M sorry, Buffy. For givin’ you all that work yesterday. Won’t happen again. I promise.”

She nodded then got up to go get dressed when Spike called out to her.

“While you’re gone, I’ll make some phone calls so we can get the apartment thing figured out.”

“Sounds good. I shouldn’t be gone for more than an hour at most, but I’ll keep my cell phone on in case you need to call me.”

~~~*~~~

By the time Buffy got back, Spike introduced her to the real landlord, Richard Wilkins, who was sitting on the couch next to him. They exchanged pleasantries while Spike stood and took the two brown bags from her to set them down on the kitchen counter before returning to the living room.

“I talked to the neighbors next door and they gave me Mr. Wilkins number. When I called to explain what was goin’ on, he agreed to come over so we can figure somethin’ out,” Spike said as Buffy sat across from them on the recliner.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that both of you were bamboozled by this Mr. Trick guy. And considering I still have yet to rent this place and you both are already here, I’ve no problem letting either of you have it. You just need to decide who wants the place, but I will need to have first and last month’s rent as well as a security deposit.”

Buffy was surprised at how good natured the man was being about all this when he could have simply kicked them both out and said ‘tough luck’. But she had a big problem on her hands as Mr. Wilkins told them just exactly how much money he wanted then looked between her and Spike, waiting for an answer. “Do you mind if… if I could talk with William for just a moment in private? It won’t take long, I promise.”

“No problem,” he replied. “Take your time.”

She stood and motioned Spike to follow her into her bedroom.

“Wha’s this all `bout, luv?” He noticed Buffy was shaking slightly, looking nervous as she kept opening and closing her mouth, clearly having something to say but not knowing how to go about it. He put his hands on her shoulders and cocked his head curiously. “Buffy? Wha’s wrong?”

“I-I…” She gazed into his eyes, hoping against hope he’d take pity on her. “I-don’t-have-anywhere-else-to-go,” she blurted out before sucking her breath back in, her bottom lip trembling uncontrollably. She hated the thought of having to rely on him, but what choice did she really have at the moment?

The words came rushing out of her mouth so fast he almost didn’t catch what she’d said. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I spent most of my money, my savings when I wrote out that check for this place and… I don’t have enough to secure another apartment.” Understanding dawned on his face but he also frowned and it made tears start to form in her eyes. “I don’t have anywhere to go,” she whispered, her voice almost pleading as a tear escaped to run down her cheek. And that’s when Spike pulled her into his embrace and began rubbing her back.

“Please don’ cry, pet. Please.” The pieces of the puzzle fell into place. He knew she expected to get the position he now held and so naturally she’d want to move into some place better than… wherever it was she was living before. And here he’d strolled in and basically took over her life. She hugged him back and the small sniffle he heard made up his mind for him.

He held her away from him by her shoulders so he could look her in the eyes. “Listen. I’ve got plenty `f money and I’ve no problem payin’ what Mr. Wilkins `s askin’ for. You can stay here, Buffy. Stay as long as you need until you can afford another place.”

“You mean it? You’re not gonna… toss me out?” He tilted his head and gave her a genuine smile.

“Why would I toss out the best assistant a bloke could ask for?” He wasn’t quite prepared when she rushed back into his arms again to hug him tight, thanking him over and over again.

“I’ll pay half the rent each month, I insist. It’s the least I can do for you letting me stay.”

“Okay, pet. But there’s one stipulation I have… somethin’ I want from you.” He felt her stiffen in his arms before pulling back slowly.

“And what’s that?” Oh please God don’t let him say I have to sleep with him.

“Nurse me back to health this weekend. `S only fair… right?”

“Oh,” she squeaked in astonishment then gave him a sassy smile. “Deal. Of course I was going to do it anyway, but… consider me nurse Buffy.” she chirped brightly.

That certainly conjured up images that if she could read his mind, would earn him a sharp slap to his face. “Right then. Le’s go tell Mr. Wilkins it’ll be the two of us.”


Are things finally looking up for our couple? Don’t hold your breath, Murphy’s Law isn’t through wreaking havoc yet, *winks*. Have a great week and drop me a line if you have some time, thanks.

Once the landlord had a check in hand, he promised to have the lease faxed to Spike’s office on Monday and politely requested that either blond drop it off at his own agency later that same day after signing it. With the dilemma settled and everyone happy, he bid the couple goodbye and left.

“So,” Spike clapped his hands together. “What did you get?” Buffy crooked her finger at him to follow her into the kitchen and began pulling things out from each bag, one by one.

“Tissues, nasal spray, Nyquil, Dayquil, menthol bath-tabs, cough drops, Vick’s Vapor Rub, chicken soup…”

As she rattled off the list of items she’d bought, he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. The chit must feel really bad judging by the fact almost everything in both bags was for him.

“-and I bought stuff to make spaghetti tonight. It’s one of the few things I don’t end up burning. Not exactly a cook here, so don’t expect much.”

“Sounds perfect, pet.”

And for the rest of the morning, Spike soaked up all the attention Buffy lavished him with like a greedy sponge. She made him rest on the couch, set the cough drops and tissue box within his reach, brought him medicine, soup, tea, whatever he asked for. At one point, she even drew him a mentholated bath and ordered him to take it. After he was through, she further surprised him when she applied the vapor rub to his chest herself. He knew it shouldn’t have, but the way she gently caressed him with her tiny hands, making sure to spread the ointment evenly so that it soaked in completely felt more erotic than soothing. She then fluffed up the pillows on the couch while he put his T-shirt back on, and after covering him with a blanket, he easily drifted off to take the best nap of his life.

Good Lord the man is nothing but a big ole baby, she thought as she watched him sleep. But she didn’t mind. It felt kinda nice to be needed and she remembered her mother doing the same things for her when she was little and hadn’t felt well. Except… when she massaged the salve onto his bare chest, she was the one who had difficulty breathing… and it wasn’t due to the strong smell of the medicine.

His entire upper body was a mass of lean sinewy muscles that rippled whenever he moved in the slightest. She tried not to look, not to stare at him but it was unavoidable. It was her own fault really, since she’d insisted on mothering him and to do that, she had to touch those muscles, feel how iron hard they were beneath his soft, warm skin… it wasn’t long before her body temperature rose and she began panting softly, flustered over the very ‘non-motherly’ feelings doing this for him elicited in her.

Now she stood back and sighed, just watching him sleep. Seeing him like this, so dependent on her, so unlike his irritating self, so far removed from the cocky bastard who kept messing up her life that she couldn’t help but feel a tiny flutter of… ‘something’ that honestly, she didn’t care to analyze at the moment. Shaking her head at herself, she decided this must be some sort of sick version of the Nightingale syndrome that would disappear as soon as he returned to his usual arrogant self. It was certain he would, but for the time being she would continue with her plans for this weekend… taking care of her English patient and nursing him back to health.

~~~*~~~

Spike woke to the smell of food and the sound of Buffy bustling about in the kitchen. When looking out the window, he noticed the sun was dipping below the horizon. Sitting up, he stretched his limbs and looked to the massive clock on the wall that read twenty after six. Bloody hell, he must have slept for what… five hours straight?

“Hey there, sleepy head,” Buffy called out to him, catching a glimpse of him running his hand through his hair repeatedly. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Starved,” he croaked before clearing his sore throat. Making his way to where she was straining the noodles over the sink, he asked, “Can I help?”

“Uhmm, you could set the table I suppose. But only if you feel up to it,” she added, worry over his well-being tinting her tone.

“Consider it done, luv.” As he went about grabbing what they needed, she asked how he was feeling. Not quite ready to give up her nurturing treatment, he told her, “Achy and stuffed up.” Hey, it was mostly true!

Once they were finished eating, she insisted he take a dose of the Nyquil and then go lay back down while she cleaned up.

Fifteen minutes later, when she was done in the kitchen, she walked into the living room only to find him, once again, napping away peacefully. Poor thing must really need the rest. But she was glad to see him sleeping, hoping the medicine and all her pampering were helping to get him over this cold quickly so she wouldn’t have to live with the guilt any longer that she’d caused this.

Since it was still too early for bed, she flicked on the TV and turned the volume down low so as not to disturb him. Her eyes darted back and forth from the couch to the recliner several times before she made a decision. She hated the rustic looking ‘La Z Boy’ with its noisy crinkled leather that sounded like someone passed gas every time she shifted in it, not to mention it wasn’t all that comfortable. Walking towards Spike, she held her breath and hoped she was stealthy enough not to wake him. Carefully sliding her hand underneath to cradle his neck, she pulled the pillow out from under him and slowly sat down, bringing his head to rest on her lap, grateful that she hadn’t woken him in the process. Flipping through the channels, she finally chose an old black and white movie, ‘It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World’ and settled back to watch it.

Every now and then, she’d glanced down at him, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the occasional bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed, the movement of his eyes beneath his lids as if dreaming… but her gaze always went back to the mass of unruly curls on his crown. And at one point, unable to resist, she ever so lightly passed her fingertips through the tussled locks a few times, sighing to herself when she found they were indeed as soft as they looked before gingerly resting her hand on his chest.

And Spike happily pretended to be slumbering… until she nudged him declaring it was time to go to bed.

~~~*~~~

Sunday………

Spike slept in until almost ten thirty while Buffy had woken at eight, gone to the gym and came back to get cleaned up.

It was the sound of the shower running that stirred him from his sleep, the bathroom being located between their bedrooms. He lay there thinking about last night, her lap his pillow, her fingers running through his hair, her hand on his chest… and then drifted to now. Buffy… in the shower, water running down her naked body, her hands soaping every luscious curve, her breasts, hips, buttocks, her…

The vision swimming in his head had him hard and aching for release. Closing his eyes, he wrapped a fist around his throbbing member, a fantasy beginning to play itself out in his mind.

…Stepping into the shower behind her, Buffy threw him a smoldering look over her shoulder as he took hold of her hips. A sigh of desire escaped her lips when he slid his manhood rhythmically along the crease of her soapy buttocks. Placing her palms on the tiled wall in front of her and spreading her legs, she arched into him, silently begging him to take her…

Spike steadily pumped his shaft, imagining the feel of running the head of his cock between her slippery folds right before thrusting his full length within her passage in one stroke. His hips lifted off the bed, squeezing his girth, pretending it was Buffy’s hot, tight channel gripping him instead of his hand and gasped aloud.

Rinsing the last of the conditioner from her hair, Buffy squeezed the excess water from it and turned off the showerhead. Stepping out to retrieve a towel, she heard Spike’s voice coming from his room. Ignoring it, she wrapped her hair up in turban style and threw on her heavy robe, prepared to go to her room to get dressed. As her hand reached the doorknob, however, she distinctly heard Spike calling her name… and stilled. It was not the type of shout to ‘get’ her attention; it was more like a crying out… and not exactly for help. Backing away from the door, she took two steps closer to the thin wall that separated his bedroom from the bathroom, her eyes growing wide as she heard other things come out of his mouth that were, that were…

“Oh, FUCK, Buffy! So tight… hot… you feel so bloody good. Tha’s it baby, cum all over me, let it go… ungh… ungh…”

And when she heard his loud wail of her name shortly afterward, she clamped a hand over her mouth. The full realization of what he was doing hit her just as hard as his orgasm apparently hit him. She felt trapped for a moment, not wanting to make a sound, but knowing she had to get to her room quick lest he need to use the bathroom after, after… that! As quietly as she could, she made her way out into the hall, leaving the bathroom door open and shuttled herself quickly inside her room, her face hot with embarrassment and her womb aflame with a very different sort of heat.

~~~*~~~

Buffy was glad Spike went to take a shower right after her because it gave her time to calm down, collect her wayward thoughts and store them away… for good! She was in the kitchen making lunch when he finally showed his face.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m making soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for both of us.”

“Tha’s fine. Anythin’ I can do to help?”

“No thanks. Got it all under control. How are you feeling today?”

Walking up behind her as she flipped both sandwiches in the fry pan, he place a hand on her shoulder and kissed the side of her head. “Better, thanks to you. Still got a bit of a cough, but all that rest I got yesterday helped and it doesn’ bother me as much anymore.”

She didn’t let him see her smile at his show of affection, he might think it ‘means’ something… which it so does not and simply responded with what her mother used to say. “You should still continue taking your medicine and another nap wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Yes, Nurse Buffy.” Mmmmm… Nurse Buffy!!! Much fun could be had playing that sort of game. But should he be the ailing, ‘needy’ patient, or… the domineering head physician? Why not both? Chuckling at his own thoughts, he went to pull out two plates and bowls, setting them next to where she was cooking.

“Thanks.”

“I was thinkin’…”

“A dangerous activity that," she teased.

“Ha, bloody ha, ha.”

She poured the soup while he took over getting the sandwiches onto the plates. “So what were you thinking?”

“Well, I noticed the hot tub doesn’ have any water in it, so I thought I’d go buy the chemicals and whatever else we need for it… fill it today. That way we can use it tonight.”

“You will?” she asked delighted as they brought their food to the table. “Wait. Do you think it’s wise to go out in this weather while you’re trying to recover from a cold?”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied, eating up the concern in her voice.

“Cuz if you make me a list I can… wait… did you say we? As in we can use it later?” The sudden thought of being in a hot tub… with a half naked Spike – at least she hoped he wore something - felt like, well, some kind of a set up.

He gave her his trademark smirk. “Yeah… we. Why? Think I’ll try somethin’?”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” she replied, raising a critical brow.

“Relax, Buffy. I won’ lay a finger on you. `Les you ask me nicely,” he added in a deep, honey-toned voice.

“In your dreams, bleach boy.” And didn’t the ‘incident’ from this morning come rushing back to her in living color, adding a bit of pink to her cheeks when wondering what he’d dreamt up, thought about while… doing what he did.

Spike caught the flush in her face and wanting to goad her, or encourage whatever naughty thought she might be having, informed her, “Don’ know what you’re missin’.”

She smiled brightly. “And since I don’t, there’s no missing to be had. Now shut up and eat.”

~~~*~~~

Several hours later, the test strip Spike used to check the chemical levels and alkalinity of the water came out perfect.

“`S ready,” he announced happily as he shut the balcony door behind him.

“Great. I’m going to change.” She was uber excited about finally being able to use the Jacuzzi.

As Buffy bounded down the hall, Spike went to the kitchen and retrieved the large bottle of wine he’d purchased while he went out earlier, two glasses and placed them out on the balcony before heading to the bathroom to grab a towel and then to his room.

Buffy was already putting one leg in the water by the time he arrived back and he couldn’t help but wonder at her sense of modesty. It was plain to see she had a fabulous body despite trying to cover it up by wearing a one piece bathing suit and a long white T-shirt as well.

“Wha’s with the get-up?” He couldn’t refrain himself from asking, speculating if she were somehow insecure about her looks.

“Ah-uhmm… It’s just that I’ve never done this before.” She looked away from him, one hand pulling the hem of her T-shirt as low as possible, the other gripping the rim of the tub to steady herself.

He found her adorable as she slowly immersed herself in the warm water, still holding her shirt in place. Shaggable, mate, stick with shaggable! “Never done what before? Been in front of a man in your bathin’ suit?”

“No. I mean, yeah. But never in a hot tub with a man I hardly know who I’m also living with and happens to be my boss. I-I just don’t know the… the rules!” It was true. She’d never lived with a man before. And under these strange ‘circumstances’, there must be some rules, right? And oh-my-God, does he not own swim trunks? Because once again, he was wearing boxers. Well, at least this pair has buttons, she sighed inwardly with relief. The last thing she wanted to see was his ‘wee-willy-winky’ bobbing amongst the bubbles.

He followed after her into the water, maintaining a respectful distance. “As for attire, you can either wear a suit or not. Doesn’ bother me… though I prefer the latter.”

I’m sure you would, she thought. Pervert! When he leered at her though, she shivered. Must be the difference in temperature. Yep, the shivery-ness has nothing to do with the evil roommate’s sexy leering. Nope! She made an ‘ewww’ face then quickly changed the subject when she saw him grab a bottle and proceeded to uncork it. “So what’s with the wine?”

“Thought we’d celebrate us workin’ so well together… as a team.” When he winked she rolled her eyes so he tried again. “Livin’ together?” She snorted. “Right then! How `bout we celebrate gettin’ through a weekend without goin’ at each other’s throat?”

“That’s only because you’re sick.” In more ways than one aside from being physically ill, she added to herself.

“Quit bein’ so difficult and jus’ take the bloody glass.” He held it out to her, noting her skeptical expression. “What?” he asked, exasperated and clueless as to what her problem was now.

“Are you sure this isn’t some plan to get me drunk?”

“No. `Course not.” Oh, he had a plan alright, just not one involving getting her drunk. A li’l looser maybe, jus’ enough to get her to answer some… questions. He managed to plaster a look of genuine hurt on his face.

“Okay, but just one glass.”

“Wha’s the matter, luv?” he asked, cocking a mischievous eyebrow at her. “Scared you might jump my sexy bones if you drown your inhibitions?”

“As if!” She took a sizeable sip of her wine. “You are so nothing like the kind of man I’m looking for!”

“You’re lookin’ then?” Now this was just the type of interesting conversation he wanted to have with her.

“No! No, I’m not. But if I were, he’d be the exact opposite of you.” Another, larger swallow.

“So, what would your ‘dream-guy’ be like? In two words.”

“What about you? Dream woman… in two words.”

He choked down the ‘willing and able’ he felt rising in his throat and pointed at her, insisting, “Oi! I asked first.”

“Honest and loyal.” With a smug smile she gulped down the rest of her wine and held out her glass to be refilled.

“You think `m not honest and loyal?” Pouring her more, he felt annoyed at her implication. He was loyal and honest… for the most part. Handing her wine to her, he realized she was going over her ‘just one glass’ limit and she drank the first awfully fast. But if it helped to relax that attitude of hers, he wasn’t going to say a thing.

“I’m sure you are… but not when it comes to women.”

“Tha’s where you’re wrong. `M loyal for the one night I spend with every one `f `em and honest when sayin’ upfront not to expect anythin’ more.” Her face went aghast with disgusted surprise before it melted into one of indifference. Bollocks! Probably shouldn’ have said that, particularly because he wanted to shag her brains out.

Shrugging, she took another swig from her glass before saying, “Guess you got me there. But that’s not the kind of honest and loyal I was referring to and you know it. Now… your dream woman, in two words.”

“Blonde,” he raised one finger then another when stating the second requirement.
“Nymphomaniac.”

“I meant your dream woman.” Idiot! ”The one you could spend the rest of your life with?”

He cocked his head to side for a few seconds with a thoughtful look on his face before nodding. “Same answer.”

~~~*~~~

Forty minutes later, Buffy was on her third glass of wine and already too tipsy when they started talking about work and how ‘unfair’ it was that he got the job she deserved. Actually, it was her doing most of the talking while Spike sat back, allowing her to vent.

“I mean… you come here with-with-” she waved her hands about, not even looking at him as she ranted. “-those… your, *hiccup*, gorgeous blue eyes and that… sexy smirk. And-and take the job I've been wor-*hiccup* working my-” she turned on her side so her rear stuck out of the water and pointed to it. “-my ass off to get.”

Well, well, well! So she thinks me sexy, huh? Oh yeah, it was only a matter of time until she fell in his arms. Funny thing about alcohol, it certainly untied her tongue. And bloody hell, what a view he got when she presented her gorgeous arse to him, wet clothes clinging to her every curve and crevice, not to mention her tits were pebbled like little berries…. and he loved berries!

But just as she’d complimented him without knowing it, she turned around and shot him down like an injured horse.

“And-and… you’re a *hiccup*… kid! Just a kid for crying out loud! It’s so not *hiccup* fair,” she pouted then set her glass aside, deciding she’d had enough.

Spike was taking a sip of his wine when it came spluttering back out after hearing what she’d said. Kid?!?! She sees me as a bloody kid? She may be older than him, but he was no boy. The size of his ‘manhood’ alone was proof enough of that. Matter of fact, he’d love to have her suck his ‘proof’. That would shut her up in more ways than the obvious.

He watched her prop both feet on the edge of the tub, exposing her legs just above the knees while leaning her head back and closing her eyes. After stewing for a few seconds, he asked her, “So tell me, Buffy. Are you into fellatio?” She turned her head to the side to open her glassy eyes and look at him.

“Is it Italian?” He burst out laughing. Guess that’s a no.

“No-seriously, wha’s your opinion on it?” He liked how she’d handled the question with humor.

Nodding happily, she replied, “I could eat.” At this point she didn’t really care what type of dish it was and why are his eyes so wide all of a sudden?

Bloody hell but she had his bits hardening at the thought of her on her knees. Only one more question needed an answer as he caressed her legs with his gaze. “Do you enjoy cunnilingus?” A mental image of being perched between those golden thighs burned bright in his brain. He’d easily bet a cool million she’d taste like heaven.

“Is it just me or are you hungry, too?” All this talk of food had her stomach making with the grumblies.

“Huh?” For a moment, he actually thought this was her way of finally giving in to him… for a moment.

“There’s a Chinese place just around the corner.”

“Chinese?” What the… Oh now she was playing with him, stringing him along. Fine! She wanted to tease him? Go ahead, but when the day came… when she ‘came’… she wouldn’t think of him as a kid anymore.

“Ling Ling’s. And they deliver,” she smiled happily.

Oh, he had a yen for something, alright… American cuisine! He could ‘eat out’ then deliver her something. Glancing at the giant clock on the wall inside, he noticed it was past dinner time and he could use something in his stomach. “Sounds brilliant. Why don’ you call? Order whatever you want and some General Tsao’s for me. `M buyin’.”

~~~*~~~

Buffy was a bit unsteady as she tried to get out of the hot tub which led to Spike helping her so she wouldn’t fall flat on her ass. And wouldn’t you know…

“Oomph!” As soon as her second foot hit the deck, she slid, landing against the very wet and hard muscled chest of Spike. “Sorry.” She blushed, realizing how close they actually were since his arms gripped her waist tightly, holding her flush to him.

“Jus’ how drunk are you, pet?” With an armful of her slippery body, her hardened nipples rubbing along his pectorals as she heaved, he had to get her away from him lest he suffer another hard on that wouldn’t get taken care of by anything other than his hand tonight.

“On a scale of one to ten…. Ohhhh, about a *hiccup* seven,” she giggled.

Her lazy eyed smile suggested more like a ten to him. “Here.” Righting her, he grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her shoulders then took his own and got to his knees to dry her feet off in case she slipped again.

In order to keep her balance as he lifted each dainty foot in the air, she leaned her forearms on his shoulders for support. This not only brought her quim dangerously close to his face, but he could feel her breasts practically resting on top of his head. Frustrated as hell at the effect she was unknowingly having on him, he had to push all lusty thoughts aside because of her drunken state and finished as quickly as possible before suggesting, “Why don’ you go inside and get changed, I’ll make the call for some nosh. What do you want me to order you?”

“Uhmm, same thing you’re *hiccup* having. General Toes.”

Chuckling, he corrected her, “Tsao’s, luv.” Opening the door, he resisted the temptation to smack her on the ass it looked so delectable with her clothes adhering to it like a second skin. But if there was one thing he never did, it was to take advantage of an inebriated woman… unless she consented before becoming intoxicated that is.

After hanging the phone up, Spike heard a few bumps and curses coming from Buffy’s room. She was probably having a hard time trying to get dressed with the alcohol running through her veins wreaking havoc on her equilibrium. It wasn’t until he heard a loud thud that he became truly concerned and went to check on her.

As he neared her door, he noticed it wasn’t completely shut so he nudged it open just a bit more to see for himself if she was okay and hadn’t passed out. He wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him that somehow, was both amusing and erotic. Half bent over with her back to him, she was jumping on one leg trying desperately to get the bottoms of her pajamas on the other foot. As she pulled them up, he got a delightful eyeful of her thonged bottom before the waistband reached her torso and he had to quickly move away in case she caught him staring.

With a serious adjustment of his bits and a limp in his walk, he made it back to the living room to sit down with a pillow pulled over his lap. He swore, no, he knew he’d just seen the most gorgeous arse ever in all his twenty three years and salivated as his earlier thoughts about making her dinner came back with a vengeance.

~~~*~~~

Both blonds sat on the couch, Buffy munching away happily while Spike put the telly on, choosing the History Channel since there wasn’t much else on to watch. He hoped having something to eat would help sober her up a bit before going to bed to get some much needed sleep. It didn’t take long before she set her half eaten carton down and yawned. The cute little noise she made as the involuntarily response to her tiredness had him asking, “Ready for some kip?”

“Maybe in a little bit.” She did feel tired, especially between the wine and food, but dressed in her yummy sushi pajamas with a blanket wrapped around her, she felt too comfortable for the moment to think about moving. “I wanna finish watching this.” Staring at the TV, she tried to focus on what the narrator was saying about King Henry the eighth’s reign and one of his many wives, but it wasn’t long before her eyelids began to flutter shut.

A few seconds later and Spike felt the weight of Buffy’s head lean against his shoulder, a light snore emanating from her. Smiling, he stayed put rather than wake her, enjoying this moment that wouldn’t happen if she were cognizant in the slightest of her present position.

About an hour and a half later, Buffy still hadn’t lifted her head and had in fact, turned her whole body towards him, somehow managing to snuggle her face into the crook of his neck. And as tired as he felt right now, he found himself wanting to stay right where he was even though sleeping sitting up would be difficult.

Reluctantly, he nudged her a few times before discovering she was too far gone to be woken without some serious shaking, which he wasn’t about to do. Instead, he hoped she wouldn’t kill him in the morning for what he was about to do.

As carefully as he could, he maneuvered the blanket to cover them both, placed an arm around her and, as slowly as possible, laid them both down on their sides, hoping not to rouse her. With her back flush to his front, he was surprised he didn’t have the expected hormonal reaction to her he normally would and passed it off as being too knackered to respond.

Placing a protective arm around her waist, she surprised him again when she snuggled further into his embrace with a sigh. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled deeply the subtle aroma of her floral shampoo, sighing contentedly before closing his eyes, ignoring the telly altogether in lieu of the warmth radiating from her body to his and the unique scent that was Buffy. The last thought that ran through his semi-conscious mind before dozing off was that he’d never spent the night with a woman before, not even after having sex. But the sensation of spooning the woman in his arms, knowing it was Buffy and not some random chit he’d shagged, well, he couldn’t help but think it felt kind of… nice.

~~~*~~~

Monday………

Buffy woke up sometime around five in the morning, pleasantly cuddled up against a warm body, the tantalizing smell of masculinity surrounding her, a strong arm wrapped around her… wait a minute, warm body, male scent, arm around my waist?!?! Her eyes popped open, fully awake and in panic mode. Oh-God-oh-God-oh-God!!! Why am I, no, why are we here? Like this?!?!

She got up fast and looked behind her to find a still sleeping Spike, the arm previously draped over her groping in an unconscious search for the loss of her body while he murmured something unintelligible.

Think, think, she told herself, running over the events of last night rapidly. All she could remember was the hot tub, Chinese food, watching TV and hearing a monotone voice drone on then… nothing. Absolutely nothing. Had he taken advantage of her in her drunken state? I did ask if he planned on getting me drunk. But he said no. Not just that, but she was the one handing him her glass to be refilled. But how did she wind up sleeping with him on the couch? Wait, she tried to rationalize. I’m dressed. He’s dressed. But they could’ve gotten redressed after… after… No! That did not happen! Nothing happened! Did it?

She poked him harshly in the chest and raised her voice in alarm as soon as one blue eye opened and a grunt of pain came from his lips followed by an ‘oi’. “What the hell happened last night?” Cuz if anything did happen, even if I don’t remember it, someone’s going to die young… and painfully slow!

It took Spike a few minutes of studying his surroundings, but when his eyes landed on a pissed off Buffy, all with the judgmental eyes and hands on her hips, he instantly knew what she was thinking. Sitting up slowly and yawning, he nonchalantly replied, “Nothin’ happened.” She didn’t look convinced though and that in itself perturbed him more than he cared to admit. “Buffy. You and I both fell asleep on the couch. Tha’s it.”

“That’s it?” she stated rather than asked. “You mean to tell me you didn’t try to, try to… make with the groiny business since I was sloshed?” He made with a cocky smirk before answering her.

“Trust me, luv. If I had, you’d be feelin’ it.”

“Huh? What is that supposed to mean?”

With a roll of his eyes, he couldn’t believe how dense the chit could be sometimes. “You’d be good and sore… hurtin’ in all the wrong places.”

The wink he gave her after saying that disgusted her even as the blood rushed to her cheeks to stain them with embarrassment. But he had a point. If he had, she would feel, well, something down there whether it’d be soreness or… whatever. “So you swear you didn’t try anything.” Her voice had lost some of its accusatory edge.

He raised a finger and made an ‘X’ over his chest and nodded. “Cross my heart. Your virtue is safe… and still quite frozen.”

Ignoring his jibe, she didn’t know what to say. Looking at the time, she excused herself to go to her own room for the remaining two hours of sleep she would get before having to get up for work. She still thought that he did it on purpose, the falling asleep with her on the couch thingy. Like a ploy to get closer to her, make her trust him since it was obvious he hadn’t touched her inappropriately. Evil, evil man! That wasn’t what had her mad right now though. It was the fact that when she’d first woken up, she was all comfy-cozy and relaxed with a knowing sense that she was safe and secure within his embrace… and it all felt so-so… pleasant. That is until her eyes had opened and reality made its way through the fog of her sleep. As if I could ever be safe with Spike!

As she slid under her bed covers, Spike was left with his own conflicting thoughts. What it was like to be that close to her, how he couldn’t get over how amazing it felt to spend the night with her, just holding her in his arms, feeling her warmth seep through him, the texture of her hair tickling his nose... And while he still ‘wanted’ her, funny sensations were stirring in him of an entirely different nature he was unfamiliar with, like some weird emotion was growing inside of him. He pushed it to the back of his mind not wanting to contemplate what it meant, preferring to rationalize it instead. He remembered waking in the middle of the night and raising his arm higher on her torso, appreciating the weight of her breast on the back of his hand, how her buttocks were pushed firmly against his cock in her sleep… Bugger all! Though that was true, his conscience was there to remind him it wasn’t her body that made for such an enjoyable experience, it was just plain… her.

If you have some time, my muse would love to hear what you thought about our couples first 48 hours together. Have a great week everyone – hugs. Next chapter contains Spike’s announcement of an overnight business trip for Buffy and he – and some naughty snooping on his behalf – as well as the results of Buffy’s lunch meeting with Parker - sure to be a disaster… but for who is the question*winks*.

The first thing Buffy did upon arriving at MDIG, was to spend time going around talking to the other sales reps, gathering their paperwork and schedules while Spike inspected the neatly laid out report he’d asked her to have on his desk by the time he got here this morning.

Looking it over only served to make him feel even guiltier that his temper got the better of him when ordering her to do it, particularly because it was flawless in every aspect imaginable. As if my gir… ahem, my assistant would do anythin’ less than a perfect job.

Closing the file fifteen minutes later, he made an impulsive decision to call a high profile pharmaceutical company they’d never approached before to try and get an appointment, thinking if they could secure their business, it would not only rake in a sizeable amount of money, but make Liam very happy indeed.

“Thanks again… goodbye,” he said as Buffy entered the office and sat down to start organizing the papers she’d gathered. “Guess what, pet?” Leaning back in his chair, legs splayed wide, he interlaced his fingers behind his head and plastered a triumphant smile on his face.

“Judging from your pose, I suspect good news?” She’d given up altogether on trying to get him to stop calling her nicknames. It’s as much of a lost cause as he is, she thought as her eyes unconsciously drifted across his confident posture in silent appreciation of how nice he looked today in his three piece light grey suit, before being startled when he answered.

“The best.”

Her gaze quickly shifted back to the papers on her desk, shuffling them around absentmindedly while berating herself for thinking there wasn’t anything this man didn’t look good in. “Go on.”

“We’re goin’ to Englewood, Florida together this comin’ Wednesday for a potential client meetin’.”

That brought her mind back into work-mode in a hurry. “Oh-my-God, you didn’t?” she asked incredulously. After he nodded, she needed to confirm her suspicions, hoping it was the company she was thinking it was. “Capella Pharmaceuticals?”

He was surprised, no, make that impressed that she guessed correctly - and so quickly - considering Capella had never been on any of their lists. Leaning forward to rest his folded hands on the desk, he was curious as to what she might know that would be helpful, if anything. “How much do you know about them?”

Turning her attention to her laptop, she set about plugging in the data she’d collected from the sales team. “Well,” she began nonchalantly. “They’re fast becoming the leader in manufacturing immunomodulatory therapeutic products, like antibodies for the treatment of hepatitis B & C, multiple sclerosis, cancer… just to mention a few. Oh, and their research department is now headed by the nation’s leading cancer specialist, Dr. James Henning. He came on board about two months ago and…”

Was it wrong of him to get incredibly turned on by her rattling off such knowledge even he himself wasn’t aware of? And all while typing away on her laptop? There's a reason why the secretary fantasy is so popular, mate! Granted he’d never stayed around a girl long enough to discover if she had any additional attributes other than a beautiful and willing body to share his bed with, yet still… He shook his head to bring his thoughts back to the issue at hand.

“Uhhh…. yeah. Tha’s the one.” He’d already surmised her brains were equally matched by her beauty but bloody hell, if it were possible, he’d just become that much more attracted to her when thinking, smart chicks are so hot! Never before in his life did he fancy that notion ever crossing his mind! And he realized that the simple equation of Buffy plus his lust for her just became more complicated as it acquired an extra variable to be factored in he hadn’t anticipated.

Hiding her enthusiasm over the possibility of landing that particular account as much as she possibly could, she asked, “So what time is the meeting?”

“Not `til three in the afternoon. `M havin’ one of the secretaries handle all the travel arrangements so you don’ have to. I’ll let you know as soon as she gets back to me on it.”

“Oh? I-I mean, great. Thanks.” She was taken aback that he didn’t ask her to do it - ‘as his assistant’ - and saw it as a small victory he wasn’t assigning her such menial tasks. Besides, she already had more than enough work to accomplish this morning as it was to have anything else to take care of on top of it.

Towards lunch time, the secretary called Spike to say she emailed his complete itinerary to him for the trip. Opening up said email, he scanned through it, frowning briefly at the details until he realized exactly what kind of ‘other’ opportunities this trip presented. His scowl melted into a devious leer as he went into his schedule and blocked out the time frame they’d be gone and made sure to sync it with Buffy’s before informing her.

“Looks like we’re takin’ off at ten in the mornin’, but…” he hesitated. “-the next flight back isn’ `til the next mornin’ at eight.” The reaction he expected, had braced himself for, never came. Instead of acting like she would loathe being stuck with him that long, she looked up at him with a thousand watt smile.

“Really?”

“`Fraid so. It doesn’… bother you?” he asked curiously.

“Are you kidding me? A whole day spent away from the snow and cold of New York? Hmmmm,” she hummed wistfully and closed her eyes. “It’ll feel like a vacation.” Ecstatic was the only way to describe her mood because even though it was winter, Florida would still be warmer, like California. She desperately missed the sun on her skin and since Englewood was right on the coast, it would afford her a chance to go to the beach. Oh my God, the beach!!! Sitting up straight in her chair, she had things to accomplish before they left, and shopping for a new bikini was first on a long list. “Damnit!” she cursed as she looked at the time.

“What?”

“I have that stupid meeting with Parker in a little while and I so have other things I need to get done before our trip.” Putting her work aside neatly, she gathered up her coat and purse to ready herself to leave.

Ah yes, Parker. Spike had secretly made his own reservation to be present at the restaurant when she was. He truly couldn’t help it. The guy gave off vibes he didn’t like, vibes that closely resembled his when he was in ‘hunting’ mode. And he’d be damned if Buffy was ‘prey’ on Parker’s list. No one hunts in my territory, mate! Part of him knew Buffy could handle herself just fine, but his more primal instincts as a male demanded to stand by at the ready for the slightest of wrong movements towards his girl. No, not my girl, my roommate, my assistant, he reminded himself… again!

Perhaps his concern was needless. He chuckled to himself, she’s a big girl, after all, she’d certainly warded off his advances and he considered himself a pretty smooth bloke when it came to sweet talking women into bed.

In the back of his mind though, he continued to war with himself over going or not going as time ticked on and Buffy eventually announced with an irritated huff she had to go. He bid her goodbye but not without another warning of Parker’s reputation and possible ulterior motives. Rolling her eyes with a ‘yeah, yeah, got it’ response, she waltzed out the door, and her blasé attitude towards the whole thing had him re-questioning himself all over again whether he should go.

No, no, he wouldn’t. Buffy certainly proved she was more than capable of handling herself, so he was probably worrying over nothing. But just before he resigned himself to forget about following her, a fax came whirring through the machine that sat on his desk. Picking it up, he read it over… then went red in the face. It was a contract. A contract guaranteeing Abrams would be advertising in the next three month’s issues of MDIG. It set Spike off in the worst of ways. Having this in hand meant there was no reason for Buffy to go to lunch with the pillock unless… Bloody hell!!!

Grabbing his suit jacket, he rushed out of the building at high speed, hailing the first cab to take him to the restaurant, trying with all his stubborn male pride to pass off the feeling of possessive rage in his chest as mere concern over the possibility of Parker treating his colleague in less than a respectful manner. Yeah, and I’m the bloody Queen of England, a small voice in his head retorted.

~~~*~~~

At the restaurant……..

Spike slipped the maitre d’ a couple of Ben Franklins to seat him far enough away from Buffy so as not to be seen but still have a unobstructed view of her and Parker. Now if only he had one of those fancy ‘spy ears’ that amplified sound so he could hear their conversation he’d be set. But he considered himself an expert on body language and reading facial expressions, so he shouldn’t have too much trouble… should trouble arise.

He took in his surroundings… a quaint little place; contemporary furniture with high backed chairs, the beige painted walls that matched the seating would have given it a monochromatic look if it weren’t for the stark contrast of various paintings and brightly colored Japanese style floral arrangements displayed everywhere. The tinkling sound of running water came from a small fountain comprised of irregularly stacked black rocks near the entrance, making a soothing background of white noise. All in all, an upscale but cozy atmosphere.

“So if you’ve already decided to do business with us, why the lunch meeting?” Buffy asked Parker. He shrugged, giving what seemed to her a sensible answer.

“Sometimes I just need a break from work and what better way to slack off than to have lunch with someone as hard working as yourself?”

Buffy had to wait to answer him as their server came to take their order. “I suppose. Though I do have to say there are things I need to be doing, so I can’t stay long.”

“I understand. I just figured we could both use a break and a bite to eat, maybe talk about things unrelated to business.”

As the waiter brought Buffy her diet Coke and Parker his glass of Rum, ‘no ice’, she realized what he was up to. But she decided to play nice as long as he behaved himself. Reaching for her soda, the sleeve of her jacket rose two inches above her wrist, capturing his attention.

Spike’s view of the pair was suddenly hindered by his own waiter asking for his order. Spike tried to wave him off, but the man then asked if he would at least like a drink while taking more time to decide from the menu. Irritated, Spike pointed to the table next to him, all the time trying to look around the git, and muttered, “I’ll have what they’re havin’… and a Bourbon. Now sod off!”

“Hey, what’s that?” Parker asked with what seemed like genuine interest.

“What’s what?” He reached over with both hands, holding her wrist with one and pushed her sleeve up with the other to reveal two tiny marks. “You have a scar.”

“Yeah... right... angry puppy,” She explained as if no big deal. The waiter came back with their food, giving Buffy the opportunity to withdraw herself from his grasp.

Spike saw Parker begin to rub Buffy’s wrist with his thumb before she pulled away. A very good thing she did since the moment he saw it, his nostrils flared and knuckles went white, wanting to rip the wanker’s throat out. The angry expression on his face scared his own waiter off in a hurry after setting down Spike’s food and drink. Looking at his lunch, he noticed his plate was filled with several different kinds of sushi. This isn’ food… `s bait! He may have money and been raised to be culturally refined, but he still preferred his food cooked. Shoving his plate aside, he chose instead to simply have his drink and watch as Buffy talked to Parker.

“A neighbor’s puppy from when I was little,” she said casually then redirected their conversation. “So, do you have any scars?”

“Oh, mine are all psychological.”

“Please, those are the best kind,” she joked with a smirk. Lord knows she had her share, er, well at least one good one.

“Well, my father died last year.”

“Oh, God,” she gasped. “Parker, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up that… stuff. Oh, bad, bad Buffy.” Shaking her head in shame since she wasn’t very good at consoling someone particularly when it came to death, she dug into her food to keep herself from saying anything else on the subject.

“No, I'm okay to talk about it now. And I'm not doing the deep, get sympathy routine. I mean don't you just hate guys that are all 'I'm dark and brooding so give me love’?”

“I don't think I've ever met that type.” Just the opposite as a matter of fact… snarky, overconfident, full of themselves of the bleached-haired variety.

“Do you wanna maybe, go somewhere else for dessert after we finish eating here?” He was hoping to get her to stay with him a little longer, feed off on her obvious sympathy before going in for the kill.

“I really can’t. I have a trip to prepare for. Shopping to do and all that.”

“I see,” he said dejectedly before coming back with another idea. “I’m really enjoying my time here with you. It’s nice to just sit back and have a regular conversation. Do you think that maybe… you might be interested in having a drink, or, coffee? When you’re done for the day that is? Or maybe some evening you’re not… busy?”

“Why?” And why did I ask that?!?! Dumb, dumb, stupid question, Buffy! She knew she’d just left herself wide open to him asking for a date, ughh!

“Well-” He leaned across the table to place a hand over hers, giving her an ‘innocent hopeful’ look. “Just for one night… can't two people who feel an attraction for each other come together and create something wonderful? And then go back to their lives the next day better for it but never over analyzing it or… wanting it to be more than it was?”

“What are you suggesting, that-”

“That there’s something amazing about that sort of event that when you dig down into it, it’s just about regular people. Like us,” he said softly. “Trying to make choices. And when you look back, it’s all about two people being swept up in an event that… they don’t want to control.”

“And you really believe that?” she asked, disguising her skepticism for wide eyed gullibility to be sure of the direction he seemed to be steering the conversation towards.

“No, I don't believe that. I believe you have a choice in everything you do.”

“Speaking of choices,” she began diplomatically, “How about we have a meaningful talk instead?”

Spike watched Buffy try to pull away before Parker leaned in closer to her, preventing her from removing her hand from his.

The caress Parker, ‘not so subtly’, applied to her palm with his finger was of the same manner in which Spike had done their first day meeting at the job, setting off serious warning bells inside her. What royally pissed her off though was when he slipped his other hand beneath the table and placed it on her knee.

The gesture of a disappearing limb, the sly smile on Parker’s face and the rage in Buffy’s narrowed eyes were all Spike needed to see red. MINE, was the last thought that ran through his brain before standing up to make his way over to where they sat, ignoring everything and everyone else around him.

“Is this okay?” Parker asked, oblivious to her seething anger. “Because I can stop if you wanna. It's your… choice.” To his surprise, she abruptly stood up. “What are you doing?”

“Making a choice.” With that said, she grabbed her purse and walked away, never noticing Parker got up to go after her or Spike barreling straight for them.

Spike’s eyes were focused solely on Parker. So much so, he didn’t notice a waiter — who incidentally was lighting a round of some flaming Japanese dessert at the time — and hit elbows with the boy hard enough to knock over the bottle of alcohol he was using, which ignited instantly. A loud whoomph accompanied by a three by three ball of fire that simultaneously rose in the air engulfed both their arms, sending the men to put out their fiery limbs while gasps of stunned patrons sounded off all around them.

Spike immediately shoved his hand into the ice bucket nearby that held a bottle of champagne while the young man grabbed a glass of water off a table to douse his arm before turning his attention to the blazing serving tray.

At the same time, Parker experienced his own combustible dilemma. The moment he tried to take a step in Buffy’s direction, his cufflink caught on the tablecloth, dragging it far enough with him to overturn several items. Most unfortunate among the objects happened to be a burning candle and his tumbler of Rum. The flame came in contact with the alcohol and traveled the length of its liquid trail in a fiery path across the tabletop and onto the floor, setting the rug ablaze as well.

The combined smoke from both accidents was enough to set off the sprinkler system, instantly drenching everyone in the restaurant, the unexpected distraction of screams and patrons running inadvertently cooling Spike's mood in addition to diverting him from his mission in lieu of getting out of the building without making a further spectacle of himself.

~~~*~~~

Buffy made it back to the office, pushing the unpleasant experience of Parker as far from her mind as possible and refocusing on business. She hated to admit it, but I guess Spike was right, she never should have gone even though she knew Parker’s reputation. At least she handled it as gracefully as she could and got out of there before anything else could happen.

Picking up the phone, she called her favorite spa, hoping to be able to book an appointment for tomorrow even though on such short notice, it might be impossible. Luckily, the owner - who also happened to be the person to take care of her treatments – answered and penciled her in for tomorrow during her lunch break for a manicure, pedicure, massage… a full work-up. And I didn’t even have to beg!

Giddy with excitement at her good luck, she opened the calendar on her laptop and typed in her appointment right before Spike came walking into the office… a sour expression on his face, one arm of his suit jacket burnt up, soaking wet from head to toe and the accompanying ‘squish, squish’ coming from his shoes with every step he took.

“What happened to you?”

“Don’ wanna talk `bout it,” he grumbled his answer without looking at her.

“Hmmph. Looks like smoking is not only bad for your health but apparently detrimental to your attire as well,” she stated with indifference despite her curiosity over his appearance.

“I gotta run home and change and…” Sighing the sigh of the defeated when seeing her chew on that blasted pen of hers, he continued, “I think `m just gonna take the rest of the day off since there’s nothin’ important on our schedule.” He couldn’t wait to get out of his wet, clingy clothes. Plus having to show up at work like this was embarrassment enough for one day, but he wanted to come by and make sure Buffy was truly alright.

“Oh?” Seeing an opportunity, she asked, “Do you mind if I take off about an hour or so early from work myself? I have some shopping I’d like to do for our trip. Need some shorts, shirts and what not.”

“Yeah. Go ahead, pet,” he stated in much the same gruff manner he used before though inside, visions of what she may buy for the warm weather began running through his mind. “Before I go, I was wonderin’… how did your meetin’ with Parker go?” He wanted to hear her account of what he’d secretly witnessed.

“Ughh!” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say your warnings were… well founded. I’m never dealing with that creep again.”

He nodded while thinking good! and managed to keep the smug smile he felt tugging at the corners of his lips under wraps, at least for the time being. As much as he wanted to gloat and say ‘I told you so’, he let it go since she’d held her own and did the appropriate thing by leaving when she had. He could have kicked himself for going to the restaurant in the first place, should’ve have trusted his instincts that she could handle herself. “So will I see you in time for dinner?”

“Uhmm, yeah, I think so. Probably around seven?”

“Ok. I’ll be makin’ chicken Alfredo tonight.”

“Mmmmm, I’ll be sure to be home by seven then,” she cooed. “It’s a fav of mine.”

~~~*~~~

Right at seven o’clock, Buffy came struggling through the door with her purse, briefcase and an armful of sacks from her shopping spree. Thankfully, Spike came rushing over to help take some of the bags off her hands and set them on the coffee table.

“Thanks. Wheww,” she sighed. “Do you know how hard it is to find summer clothes in New York this time of year?”

“I can imagine, but we’re only there for less than two days, luv. How much do you really think you need?”

Giving him a bright smile and a shrug, she told him, “Once I found the right store, they had a great sale, so I stocked up for summer.” Sniffing the air and looking towards the kitchen, she began to drool. “Wow, dinner smells awesome. Is it ready yet?” She was starved, especially since she never got to finish lunch thanks to Parker.

“In `bout ten more minutes,” he answered without facing her, more interested in what was inside her bags. Peering inside one of them, he asked, “So can I see what you bought?”

“Nah-uh! Starving after-shopping Buffy here!”

“Later then?” He pulled out a pair of pretty pink knickers. “Mmmmm. Any chance you might model this for me?” He leered and received her patented eye roll as she came over and snatched them out of his hand.

“A world of no to that. The only things that are for your eyes you’ll get to see once we’re in Florida. I’ll help you set the table as soon as I kick these heels off.” She took off in the direction of her room, taking her bagged belongings with her.

Spike had half a mind to insist having at b>least a peek at her summer clothes, but he knew that Buffy would probably want a shower after dinner, so he’d have enough time to poke through her ‘not-for-his-eyes’ purchases. Thank God the chit takes half an hour to wash her hair! With that promising thought in mind, accompanied by naughty ones about what exactly those articles of clothing might be; he began setting the table without waiting for her, whistling to himself.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Buffy’s voice came from behind him as he finished pouring two glasses of Zinfandel.

“Well pet, `s not every day I get to dine with a beautiful woman… and get her to spend the night with me.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“I’m so not…” She started to get defensive before she caught onto his teasing manner about the other night then giggled herself before adding - so that he was clear on the issue, “Well, not every day a man offers to wine and dine me, knowing he won’t be bedding me!” She tried to mimic his brow wiggle, failing miserably to look anything other than silly.

Maybe not yet, he thought to himself as they sat down to dinner. But he would… eventually.

~~~*~~~

After placing their dishes in the sink, Buffy announced she was going to pack her suitcase first so she wouldn’t have to worry about doing it tomorrow then take a long bubble bath because her legs and feet were tired from shopping.

Meanwhile, Spike busied himself cleaning the dishes, just waiting to hear the water start running from the bathroom and then the click of the door indicating she was taking her bath.

When that happened, he quietly made his way to her room and pushed the door open to see her luggage lying on top of her bed. Cocking his head to the side, he smiled when hearing Buffy happily humming away to some tune in her head.

Opening her suitcase, he was careful to note how she arranged her things so she’d never know he went rifling through her stuff. Helloooooo! What do we have here? The first thing he pulled out was a burgundy colored suit set… short skirt, lightweight jacket, silky white sleeveless blouse and a dainty pair of burgundy heels. Very nice! He carefully placed the ensemble aside and examined the rest of her things. One at a time, he took each item of clothing out and laid it carefully on the bed to inspect them. There were outfits that looked… ‘stuffy’, too conservative, would hide her figure rather than show it off.

Conservative shorts, capris, short sleeved oxfords and T-shirts which honestly… looked like something out of Cabela’s. They were heading for Florida for Christ sakes, not to some desert on an archeological dig! The bras and panties that lay beneath were no better… very traditional, made of sensible white cotton design, no doubt ‘Hanes for Her’. He grimaced when thinking these were for women in their sixties, not Buffy. Where are all the thongs like the one she had on Sunday night?

As he looked down at the bag that lay on the floor from her shopping trip, he couldn’t help himself from having a glimpse. Quick as lightening, he went through it, much to his surprise finding tiny little tank tops and shorter shorts that were very cute in a girly way and would showcase her legs beautifully. Whoa!!! Now tha’s more like it. Quite the collection of matching brassieres and G-strings met with his blue eyes, now sparkling with lust. At least a dozen or so in all shades imaginable, materials ranging from frilly lace to silk, satin and all very, very sexy. Seems she does have an inner vixen after all! They were much nicer than what he got a glimpse at during Buffy’s drunken fight with her pajamas.

Smirking to himself, he made a decision. She was going to kill him, but it would be well worth it. Since they were towards the bottom, he replaced the underwear and bras she’d packed with some of the more provocative ones, then dug in her closet to search for something he could take her to dinner in. And oh yeah, he was he delighted to find an alluring black dress with spaghetti straps and a low dipped back that meant she couldn’t wear a bra with it. After finding a nice pair of heels to go with it, he carefully tucked his choices in her suitcase underneath her lacy bits and the obvious things she’d packed herself back on top in case she opened it before they left so nothing would seem out of place.

Now he could only hope she wouldn’t re-open it before they arrived in Florida.

In case you didn’t read the a/n above, I’m curious as to what day of the week you, the readers, would actually prefer to have ML updated on. I originally said either Mon or Tue, but I never bothered to ask if it was convenient for most readers and their workweek schedules. So let me know if there’s any preference you have and I’ll go with the day that most seem to agree on. Thanks a million – and I hope you enjoyed the chapter – have a fantastic weekend. Hugs you all tight.

Tuesday………

Spike was busy going over the portfolio he was preparing for the Capella meeting while Buffy was gathering last minute additions he’d asked for to include in their presentation. She was rummaging through the bottom drawer of a large filing cabinet that stood to the right of Spike’s desk when someone knocked on the door.

The person on the other side didn’t wait to be bidden entry and came strolling in with a smirk of his own to match Spike’s as their eyes met.

“William, buddy, thought I’d drop by to see you. The old man says you even have yourself an asss... sistant!” Indeed he does, he thought as his eyes wandered covetously towards Buffy. A very curvaceous one judging from her present angle… bent over with her rear in the air.

“Angelus,” he nodded, his facial expression tighter than a drum when noticing the way the other man was ogling the blonde woman. “Heard you were comin’ here.”

When Buffy stood up straight and turned around, Angelus ignored Spike in order to introduce himself. “Hello there. Angel O’Connor.” He held out his hand but noticing she had hers full of files, offered his help by taking them from her, setting them aside on the coffee table.

“Thank you, Mr. O’Connor.” Sliding her hand into his to shake, he turned it over instead, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss before speaking.

“Angel, please. There’s no need for formalities, is there? And what’s your first name?”

Spike sat back and watched with disgust as the great poofter laid it on thick for Buffy, Irish accent and all. `Course he’s usin’ Angel instead of Angelus. Pfft! Most of the women Angelus had ‘known’ quickly discovered he was no ‘angel’. He lured them in with sweet promises then treated them like shit after getting what he wanted whereas, like he explained to Buffy the other night, he did the decent thing by telling women upfront he was only after a bit of fun.

Spike didn’t believe he had anything to worry about, though. If he couldn’t get in Buffy’s pants, then Angelus sure as hell didn’t stand a chance either. It’d take a crow bar sent from God himself to ever pry those dimpled knees apart… or maybe the devil. She wouldn’t fall for gel-boy’s act. Not his girl.

Even though Buffy didn’t care for the ‘first name basis’ Angel was insisting on, she went along with it. She knew him to be Liam’s son and as such, had to ‘make nice’. Seeing that he and Spike knew each other, she assumed they must have worked together before because she found out through Cordelia the other day that Angel was transferring into their marketing department from another, similar company his father owned based out of Dublin.

“Could I… perhaps take you out to lunch, if you don’t already have plans? I’m new here and I’d love to talk with someone who could tell me a little more about the company, since you obviously have been here longer than William. So… what do you say?”

Uh-oh! Think fast. “I mean no disrespect, Angel, but I don’t do lunch with male co-workers. It’s a personal rule of mine. I hope you understand?” Buffy smiled at him to lessen the blow, even though she was being as polite as possible in her refusal. She actually did find him rather charming and handsome. And the accent? Well, it wasn’t like Spike’s, but it was cute and since when did I decide I preferred British accents anyways, or Spike’s for that matter?

Spike couldn’t contain the tiny chuckle that escaped his lips as Angel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at Buffy’s rejection.

“Oh, alright.” But as other plans formed in his mind, he put a sweet smile back on his face. “I can respect that.” Turning his attention towards Spike, he began asking him questions related to his position.

And as he did so, Buffy decided to make herself scarce by using the excuse she had to run some errands. She hated to turn him down, but it was a firm rule she had to keep, whether this was the big boss’s son or not.

“Nice piece of ass you got working for you there, William. Wouldn’t mind taking a poke at that.” As he licked his lips and adjusted himself, he heard Spike growl. “What? Are you two an item?” When Spike glared harder but didn’t answer, Angel immediately figured out the situation out for himself. “Ahhhhhhhh. I see. So you haven’t hit on the lass yet, have you, boy?”

“Buffy’s not like that, mate, and you’d do well to remember that.” But Captain Forehead only leered at him.

“Maybe right now, but people change. Just depends on how you… persuade them.”

“Don’ even think `bout it.” The last thing he wanted was for Buffy to get used by the likes of Angel. As if gettin’ used by me is any better? And when did he suddenly decide to grow a conscience? But before he could explore that thought, Angel was talking again.

“Bet I get to her first.” Again, Spike growled, only this time a bit louder. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said while heading for the door. “Be seeing you, William.”

He closed the door behind him before Spike managed to say Buffy was not someone he would turn into some cheap bet. But then again, it didn’t matter. Gel-boy could try all he wanted, Buffy would never have anything to do with him, he’d bet his life on it.

~~~*~~~

After Buffy left for lunch, Spike checked his schedule to see if they had anything going on this afternoon before heading out to grab a bite to eat, and that’s when he saw something that had him sitting ramrod straight in his chair to glare at the screen close up, re-reading it three times to make certain he was truly seeing what he was seeing… in bold!

‘12:30 PM - Wear bikini for Lorne’

His blood began to boil as his mind raced with thoughts of who this Lorne guy was and why Buffy would wear a bikini for him. Every path his treacherous brain led him down ended with the idea of Buffy planning on an afternoon quickie with this guy. His hands clenched the chair’s armrests so tight his fingernails cut little crescent shaped indents into the leather material as his mind filled with visions of Buffy… and another man’s hands caressing her legs, breasts, pushing her bikini bottom aside to… to…

Without even grabbing his jacket he left the building, needing the chilly New York air to cool him down before facing Buffy and to figure out just what he was going to say to her since she gave him the impression she was single. And he did, he came up with a smooth way to approach the matter.

Until Buffy made it back to the office twenty five minutes later than her scheduled lunch-break, pissing him off all over again.

The first thing he noticed were the new highlights she had in her hair; then he became aware she was acting all languid, her eyes half lidded and glowing with something akin to sated pleasure. He watched her sit down in her chair, wincing slightly like she was in pain. Seeing her do that made him livid beyond belief, but he kept his temper in check when asking, “Have a nice lunch?”

“Mmmmm, the best,” she hummed contentedly and twirled around in her chair with her eyes closed.

Boy was that the wrong thing to say. “You’re late,” he barked.

She looked at the clock then answered him as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “Ooops.”

“Ooops? Ooops?!?! There’s no excuse for tardiness,” he chastised her, but she only shrugged at him casually.

“So fire me.” She quirked a challenging eyebrow up, but aside from that, her relaxed posture didn’t change a bit.

He glared at her harshly and did his best to let it go, which only served to let the whole ordeal fester in his head. Over the next hour, he banged drawers shut, shoved things about loudly on his desk as he worked, even huffed a few times though none of it seemed to gain any notice from her. He wanted to know where she went, what happened, for her to explain herself even if he knew she owed him nothing of the sort. But she continued acting just as unfazed as she was when she came back from lunch and it was making him insane.

After his patience wore thin from his efforts to get her attention, he decided he’d finally had enough and just came right out and asked, “So, what did you do durin’ lunch? Or should I say who?”

“Excuse me?” Buffy turned to look at him, noticing his jaw tightly clenched along with his fists, wondering where this came from and what the hell his problem was. “I had an appointment. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Appointment my arse! I can see your calendar, you know, and I don’ appreciate bein’ lied to.” He turned his laptop around so she could see it and pointed to the ‘Lorne’ entry.

As soon as she read it, she knew exactly what he must have thought and began laughing uncontrollably.

“Wha’s so bloody funny?”

“Nothing. Just thinking that at least Lorne knows how to treat a lady.” Getting her laughter under control, she told him, “You could really take lessons from him.” Sliding a loose piece of hair behind her ear, she added with a purr, “Lorne has greeeeat hands. Not to mention he’s an expert at waxing my ass.” Oh-my-God, I really just said that! Oh well, she laughed again, it was true, she just wasn’t thinking when she accidentally used the crude expression to describe what Lorne did for her.

“He did WHAT?!?!” He couldn’t believe he just heard that come out of her mouth.

“You know those Brazilians, they can be rough,” she sighed.

“He’s Brazilian?” How the bloody hell am I supposed to compete with that?

“Nooooo. Brazilian… as in the wax variety? You know… down there,” she pointed towards her crotch.

“So Lorne isn’t a, a-”

“Boyfriend?” she finished his question for him and chuckled. “No. I already told you I’m single. And for the record, Lorne drives stick.”

The feeling of relief that flooded him was immense before it was quickly replaced with naughty curiosity. “Can I see?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, a wicked smirk forming while looking at her lower half.

“Not even if hell froze over,” she replied icily without even looking at him.

“Can’t blame a bloke for askin’.” As Buffy continued busying herself with work, he couldn’t help thinking about the reasons why she would go and get herself pampered like that. Hmmmm. Bikini wax… overnight trip… her ‘goods’ all nice and bare and smooth… Readjusting himself, he was convinced she must have done it for him. Why else unless she planned on going to the beach? It was possible though he highly doubted it given the time frame of the meeting. Maybe this trip would see the success of business and the ‘getting down to business’ he’d been longing for.

When she left the room to go to the photocopier, he phoned the hotel they were to stay at and ‘rearranged’ their accommodations, thinking she’d initially have his arse for it. ‘Course since I want it the other way ‘round, I’ll have to make sure the hotel folk blame it on shortage `f rooms!

~~~*~~~

Go straight to bed, crawl under the covers and get some sleep was all Buffy had in mind right now, still feeling the wonderful, lasting effects of the massage Lorne gave her. That was the plan, even if it was only six thirty. Not even the presence of the obnoxious blond who left work early and was sure to be inside wanting to chat or whatever would deter her. Unless said blond is going through my family pictures!

“Hey!” Slamming the door shut behind her, she was angry as hell. “What do you think you’re doing?!?!” She stalked over to him and ripped her photo album from his hands. “That’s private!” Dropping her briefcase to the floor, she hugged the album close to her chest.

“Not when it’s in plain view,” he replied with a shrug of indifference.

“It was in my room which means you were snooping.”

“Retract those claws, kitten.” Re-crossing his ankles, he smirked and spread both arms casually across the back of the couch. “It was sittin’ right here on the side table.” He motioned his head sideways towards said table and watched as the lights came on in her head, knowing he wasn’t lying.

“Oh.” Late last night, she couldn’t sleep and brought it out to the living room to take some photos out she no longer wanted. “But that isn’t an invitation to go looking through it. You had no right.” She scowled and nudged his thigh with her knee. “And get your feet off the coffee table.”

Lowering his feet to the floor, he tried to explain himself. “I wanted to know more `bout you, saw it, and couldn’ help myself. Don’ be cross, please? I didn’ set out to make you mad.”

When he stuck that full bottom lip out she was doomed. “If you wanted to know more about me, all you had to do was ask.”

Encouraged, he did just that. “Sit with me then. I’d like to see `em, hear stories `bout your family.”

“You’re serious?” As hard as it was to believe, he did seem sincere. Nodding his head, he beckoned her to come and sit next to him by patting the couch. “Alright,” she sighed, blaming her weakness for his pout as to why she was giving in. “My life isn’t that interesting, though. You’ll probably be bored to tears within minutes, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I highly doubt that, pet.” He welcomed anything she might share in hopes it would shed more light on why she wore such a tough shell.

She slid her shoes and jacket off then joined him. Before they got started, however, he lifted her feet to set them on the table, sending her a warning glare and a comment about needing to relax then handed her the cup of tea he originally prepared for himself.

“Thanks.” She was too tired to question his motives if he had any, yeah, like Spike would do anything without some ulterior motive, and chose not to comment when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder to hold the other side of the book sitting between their laps.

Together, they thumbed through the pages while Buffy explained her ‘only child’ existence and the various events captured on film from kiddie birthday parties to Christmas mornings. Her childhood was ordinary. So ordinary, in fact, that he was envious. His childhood came with the privilege of money, but he didn’t remember being half as happy with his extravagant gifts as she looked with her inexpensive ones in the pictures as she proudly held them up and posed. He didn’t fault her for it of course since neither of them asked to be born into their respective families.

Something suddenly occurred to him in that moment. Maybe she’s uncomfortable `bout me givin’ her that pen cuz `f the cost? He didn’t think to take the price tag off when he wrapped it up, so maybe she thought he was trying to show off his wealth? He hadn’t really given it much thought when he bought it; he just wanted to get her something nice to write with so she’d throw away that chewed up pen of hers. The amount he’d spent on his gift was never something he factored into it one way or another.

Listening to her tell stories behind certain pictures, he was rapt with how animated she became. Her enthusiasm as she reminisced was adorable, causing him to ask more questions to keep her talking like that. For twenty minutes she was a different person, one that had him spellbound with her unguarded smiles and bubbling laughter. That came to a halt, however, when asked about the sudden absence of her father in the photos. She rushed through the explanation that he’d left her mother for another woman. He could identify with that. Somewhat. His own mother had left her first husband for his widowed father. But unlike Buffy, that union gave him birth and forced him into dealing with a half-brother from her previous marriage who’d taken his own frustrations out on Spike by creating a relationship of constant, and often grueling, competition over everything.

Without thinking, he moved his hand to her shoulder for a comforting half-hug and relayed his apologies. To his surprise, she didn’t go on the defensive at the contact. She simply shrugged, said that was life and moved onto the next page. He couldn’t tell whether the situation had any lasting effects on her she was trying to hide or she’d simply had brushed it under the carpet of time. Either way, he left his hand where it was and encouraged her to continue. Call him a rogue, but this unexpected and pleasant evening they were sharing made her even more irresistible to him.

As the years progressed on film, he was startled to learn she’d lost her mother during her first semester of college, and felt awful as she elaborated on that dark chapter of her life. Not only did she have to go through the mourning process by herself, but she struggled to make ends meet at the same time just to keep herself in college, live on her own and pay the hospital bills her wanker of a father refused to help with. That right there explained a good portion of her pride behind her professional life and that she wasn’t afraid of hard work. For the second time since meeting her, Spike felt genuine guilt that he’d swooped in to take a position she’d rightfully earned. And though he could tell Buffy wasn’t the type to ever accept a hand-out, he made a silent vow to himself to do what he could to somehow compensate her for the loss in anyway he could. Even if only in monetary terms.

There was another thing he discovered that ran consistently throughout her life history. Loss. On top of losing her Da then Mum, she went and lost her ‘best friend ever’. Nearly every page contained a picture of her beloved pet. From age five, when she received Mr. Gordo as a kitten, to when she lost him sixteen years later. She never replaced him, never bought another, had a tear in her eye when she retold the day she had to have him put to sleep. He could relate to this too, though his parents were quick to provide him with another pet after his own cat Zachary got hit by a car.

“Well, that’s it. That’s me,” she said with finality, still flipping page after empty page waiting to be filled.

“Wha’s all this?”

In the very back, the corners from the small stack of loose pictures she’d weeded out last night, stuck up from the pocket-sleeve. She hadn’t done it yet, but they were so trash bound. “Nothing. Just garbage materi-Spike, don’t!” He unexpectedly grabbed them out.

“Don’ look like nothin’ to me.” Leafing through them revealed the same guy in every photo, hulking over a tiny Buffy with his beefy frame. He quirked an eyebrow after coming across a particular shot and held it up. “You were engaged,” he said more to himself in surprise. It was obvious from the guy holding her left hand in an attempt to show off the puny diamond of her engagement ring. Stupid pillock bought her a rock so small you can’ even see it. And since when did he care about that or anything of the nature? He wasn’t jealous, didn’t have to be. In the end, Buffy hadn’t married the git so nope, not jealous.

“Were... being the key word. That was a long time ago.”

“What happened?”

“That’s personal, Spike.”

“Doesn’ mean I can’ ask.”

“Fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you. Riley was cheating on me. I found out about month before our wedding. And I don’t want your pity.”

“Who said I was gonna give you any?”

Ouch! That shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. She should have guessed he’d be insensitive about this, but it didn’t stop the temporary flash of pain from crossing her features before straightening herself. “Good.”

Bugger! He took the hint when she rolled her shoulders, loosening herself from his grasp. Christ, he felt like a wanker. He didn’t mean it... not exactly. Yes, he felt bad for her, must have crushed her heart though she’s better off without the overgrown pillock, but her shackles were back up now and it bothered him. Here they’d had a great evening together where she’d finally opened up to him and then chose now to ruin it? Like she undermined his ability to understand her pain? Okay, so he couldn’t really comprehend it, never having had a steady girlfriend in his entire life. But that didn’t make him heartless. Er, well, that last statement didn’t support the notion, but... whatever. He wasn’t an evil, soul-less monster, he wanted to be supportive towards her no matter the reason for the breakup but said the wrong thing and predictable Buffy came back to shut down on him, rearing her ‘I don’t need a thing from you’ attitude.

“Is that why you hate men? Don’ trust `em?”

“I don’t hate men and it isn’t the reason I don’t trust them,” she defended herself.

“A-ha! So you don’ trust men.”

“That’s not it either.” She could see she had him puzzled. “People cheat on people all the time. That wasn’t the reason we broke up. Well, it was the bulk of it, just not all of it.”

“What did you do?” He instantly regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth, but he couldn’t help thinking he saw a flash of guilt in her eyes when dodging the real reason why the engagement had gone sour. Should have asked what he’d done instead. Way to go again, mate.

“Me?!?!” she asked offended. “I didn’t do anything. But...” There was always a ‘but’, wasn’t there? “It... that was part of the... the problem, too.” He cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised in total confusion.

“Not sure I followed you `round that bend, luv.” The way she danced around this issue was bewildering to say the least, but it made him all the more curious.

“It’s just... Buffy and relationships are un-mixy things.”

“Un-mixy things.” She was acting positively quirky now. “But you’ve had boyfriends since then, right?”

“No.” At his stare of disbelief, she explained. “I don’t have time for boyfriends. With work and all.”

“Tha’s a load of rubbish,” he huffed. “You were home all weekend and home most evenin’s at a reasonable hour.”

“Your point?”

“You’ve got time,” he accused. “If you wanted someone in your life.” Like me. Even an ounce of her time, her intimate time, he corrected himself, would do them both a world of good.

“That’s just it. I don’t.”

“So what then? You gonna sit around and let it rot?” He pointed at her crotch.

“Since when do you care?” And ewww!

“I don’.” But he did. And he knew it. “Jus’ sayin’.” But he wanted to know, needed to know the ‘why’ behind the breakup. “I don’ understand. What went so wrong with dumpin’ a loser like him that made you give up on men? And how long ago was this?”

“Nine years ago and it was... he... The thing is... it’s complicated.”

She could certainly be complicated at times, but that wasn’t an answer and nine friggin’ years? “As in how?” Her eyes began darting about nervously, her cheeks glowing pink. What is she thinkin’?

“I’m... It’s me, alright?” she sighed heavily. “A-as in my fault. It’s my fault he cheated... that we broke up.”

“What?!?!” No way. Not possible. He got cranky after hearing her say such a ridiculous thing and didn’t conceal it when asking, “The wanker cheated on you and you think you’re to blame?” This Riley git obviously didn’t know the value of what he had in Buffy, what he’d lost, and Spike became buggering mad she believed such shite, that the unfaithful bastard had somehow convinced her she was responsible.

“I wasn’t there for him. Like he... like he needed me to be.”

What in the name of Her Majesty was she trying to hide? What was she not there for that was so horrible she couldn’t say? “Sounds like bullshit to me.” She was everything a bloke could ask for. Beautiful, smart, witty, sexy... Bloody hell! She was everything he could ever hope to find in a woman. Wanted. To have and to possess and especially to...

Buffy noted Spike unexpectedly went from looking angry to something else entirely different with his hooded lids and-and... glazed eyes and... She needed to remain focused on the conversation. “Look. You don’t know me.”

“But I’d like to,” he confessed heatedly, turning his body to face her, his hand finding its way back to her shoulder.

“No, you don’t,” she said weakly.

Tension filled the room, became thicker the nearer he came to her, her nerves seizing up on her, immobilizing her. A dirty smirk slowly curled his lips and the air between them crackled with sparks of a different nature... primal, raw, twisting her womb with a strange need, heating her blood.

“Rest assured when I say, pet, that I really, really do.” Little by little, inch by inch, he backed her into the corner of the couch. If she would willingly kiss him, just once, there might be a chance she’d open up to the possibility of, well, ‘them’.

“I’m complicated.” She had nowhere to go as he drew closer and closer, leaning over her, her head sinking deeper into the cushion, his masculine scent washing through her to tangle and ensnare her senses. The weight of his chest slowly pressed upon hers, bearing down, lying heavy, causing a brush fire to singe every inch in contact with his solid, well-muscled body.

“Go ahead,” he invited, his chest tingling from the two hardened peaks he felt heaving beneath him, eyes studying her wide green depths, lowering his mouth a humid breath away from hers to whisper in a sweltering tone, “Complicate me.”

“Oomph!” The second before she was sure to be kissed, she swiftly rolled away, fell to the floor in a graceless heap then bolted upright on her knees, smoothing her hair back as if nothing happened. “I’m-fine. Nothing-broken,” she spoke hurriedly and glanced at her watch. “Wow, would ya look at the time? I’m-bushed. Going-to-bed-now,” she chirped. Damnit! Her normal reserves of sharp wit had all but fled under the threat of his kiss. Before she could berate herself or stick around to hear his response, she stood and made a beeline for her room.

Spike wasn’t sure what the problem was, but did know she wanted it, wanted him, no doubt there, mate! The goal was clear, and he was determined more than ever to solve her mystery. Once he did that... she would be his.

Next week I’ll be posting on Sunday (The Florida trip, *winks*) because my husband is flying in on Monday - taking leave to come home and visit us for 8 days. I’ll do my best, though, to keep up with answering the reviews during that time. Hope you all liked the update and would love to hear from you if you have some time, thanks – hugs and kisses.

Wednesday……… ‘Fun in the Sun’

Buffy was grateful their flight wasn’t until ten AM, and breathed a sigh of relief that Spike hadn’t brought up anything about their ‘almost kiss’ last night… though he was acting strangely. He seemed nervous about something and in an awful rush to leave. Probably just worried about the meeting. It is a pretty big account to land if we can pull it off.

Spike breathed his own sigh of relief when they made it to the airport without Buffy going through her suitcase. His second sigh of relief came when they arrived at the hotel and she went to use the bathroom in the lobby while he checked them in.

Using his charm and a few bills, he was able to persuade the manager to ‘put on a show’ for Buffy’s benefit that the hotel had overbooked and could only accommodate them in a suite with two beds. Naturally Buffy wasn’t happy at all about the news, but she was cordial to the staff and reserved her grumbling for the elevator ride up to their room.

Spike knew there would be no third sigh of relief once she opened her suitcase and dug further below what she originally packed. Fortunately, that didn’t happen until after the meeting.

“SPIKE!!!” Unbelievable, just unbeliev… this is the last straw! “Spike, get your ass out here now!”

Hearing her screech, he got out of the shower and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, knowing ‘the moment’ had come.

She took in a long, deep lungful of oxygen, ready to call him all sorts of names in one breath that would make a seasoned trucker blush once he came out of the bathroom. When the door finally swung open, however, the sight of him made her swallow that air in one giant, audible gulp.

Her voice seized in her throat while he just stood there casual as you please, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed while her eyes involuntarily perused every glistening inch of him. Platinum hair defying gravity, spiked up in wild disarray, water droplets clinging to his chiseled chest, abs, arms, his towel hanging so low on his sharp hipbones she nearly choked, and his leg stance created a slit in the white terrycloth that barely stopped before his privates began. Why are hotel towels always so small anyway? She groaned internally, he might just as well be naked. The aroma accompanying the steam slowly escaping from behind him brought with it the provocative scent of freshly showered Spike, clouding her thought process, setting her senses on overload like a pheromone high. What was I going to yell at him about?

“Something wrong, luv?” He smirked when her eyes flew up to meet his. This was so much better than he’d ever anticipated, her reaction to seeing him like this.

Wrong? Not from where she was standing and oh GOD! Embarrassed at her own thoughts and that she was caught gawking at him like some wanton whore; she turned around so she wouldn’t have to face him. Just breathe out of your mouth so you don’t have to smell him. Fat lot of luck that did her, now she could practically taste him! Looking down at her suitcase thankfully put her brain back into commission.

“Look at this!” She stepped to the side and pointed at her clothes strewn across the bed.

“Already have.”

Like she expected a different answer out of him? “What… no, when did you do this?”

“The other night while you were takin’ a bath.”

She kept her voice as calm as she possibly could. “Why?”

“You said, and I quote, ‘the things that are for your eyes you’ll get to see once we’re in Florida.”

“You know that’s not… Yes, I said that, but-”

“You should have known curiosity would get the better of me. 'M jus' a man, pet.” His bed was the closest to the bathroom and since she had her back to him, he grabbed a pair of black shorts and a white tank top.

Good point. “I’ll remember next time I go shopping not to say anything then.” Hearing the rustling of fabric, her eyes went wide. Was he getting dressed in front of, well, right behind her?

"You should be thankin' me for gettin' rid of the Indiana Jones clothin’ line. We’re in Florida for Chris’ sake.”

“They’re practical and you had no right to invade my privacy, my room like that!”

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission," he retorted.

Apparently! “And what gives with packing my black dress, hmm?” She picked it up to look at it.

“You can turn `round now, `m dressed.”

“Answer the question,” she demanded as she pivoted on her heel to face him.

“I threw it in there in case our clients wanted to go to dinner, discuss more business before makin’ a decision.”

Another good point, but… “And I suppose you packed these-” she held up a fistful of her lacy undergarments for him to see. “-for the clients’ sake as well?”

Answering her question with his own and in a tone equally as sarcastic as hers, “How `bout tellin’ me who you had your Brazilian job done for, eh?” That was the burning question in his mind, so self-convinced he’d be seeing it later, up close and personal.

“Uhh,” she gasped in outrage. "Certainly not for you, never mind the clients!”

Bugger! He should have known better than to get his hopes up. But then he smiled inwardly when thinking if she only knew he’d already seen her luscious arse the other night when she was drunk. “Look,” he began coolly. “Le’s jus’ go out to dinner tonight and celebrate. I’ll take you some place nice. We both deserve it for a job well done.” That and he did want to see her in the dress. “Plus we’re already here and all you have to wear is lyin’ right there.” He cocked his head in the direction of her suitcase.

Damnit! He was right. There was nothing she could do about her clothes now and it would be like crying over spilt milk to continue arguing with him. “This doesn’t mean you get to see these on me.” Holding up her underwear, she wanted to make sure he knew she was still mad at him.

“Understood.”

He’d lowered his head, sad blue eyes looking up at her from beneath his beautiful, dark thick lashes and with that irresistible boyish pout of his, too. Evil man! Yet he’d managed to instantly soften her attitude with that look alone.

And he knew it!

~~~*~~~

Spike kicked back on the bed, engrossed in his book while Buffy was in the bathroom. However, when she came out wearing a stunning, and very tiny black bikini, his blood immediately ran south. “Guess hell froze over after all, pet,” he mused aloud as he took in her appearance. The swimsuit was a bit smaller than the standard - as bikinis go - leaving little to the imagination… especially his. It seems she was planning on going to the beach despite the current hour.

“What are you talking about?”

“Can see why you had your arse waxed.” The small scrap that covered her womanhood was quite… scant to say the least, and most definitely required a thorough waxing.

“Yeah, well…” she trailed off when noticing the way he was ogling her. It made her feel naked, like he had X-ray vision, so she went over to her bed and chose a pair of shorts and a halter top, putting them on rather quickly. Since they were the ones Spike placed in her suitcase, she still felt bare to his gaze.

When she turned around, he kept staring at her thinking, bloody hell I’ve got great taste in clothes. He just knew she’d look sexy as hell in those candy pink shorts and white top.

“Whatcha reading?” she tried to change the subject in order to get his attention off her body.

“Huh?” He was still distracted by the alluring vision she made. “Oh, uhmm…” He held the book up he’d use to conceal his raging hard-on, being cautious it was still covered while she read the title out loud for herself.

“A Brief History of Time, From the Big Bang to Black Holes.” Wow, impressive he’d choose to read something by Hawking. “Interesting choice in literature, although I think you picked the wrong book.”

“Really?” Cocking a questioning eyebrow at her, he wanted to hear her explanation to his next question. “And why’s that?”

Shrugging, she replied, “You already make yourself out to be an expert when it comes to banging, but… then again there is that black hole in your head where your brain is supposed to be. So maybe it is the right book for you.”

“You’re bloody hilarious, pet. A right comedian.” Snarky bint!

“What are doing reading that sort of book anyway?” Admittedly, her curiosity was genuinely piqued.

“Man’s one of the greatest theoretical physicists since Einstein. `S a good book. Confronts the questions of the nature of time and the universe.” Buffy expression was that of bewilderment after his explanation. “What?”

“You really enjoy reading that?” And here she would have expected him to have a Playboy magazine instead. After his simple reply of ‘yeah’, she asked, “I mean that’s pretty deep… stuff and… what’s your IQ anyway?”

“A hundred and eighty four. Why?”

With an incredulous look on her face that he could answer her with such nonchalance, all she could say was, “Holy crap! You’re a genius!” He could have chosen practically any career he wanted, so why the hell was he in Sales with an IQ like that?

“Your point?” he asked with a bored look on his face.

“N-nothing, I just didn’t think… never mind.” She shook her head. Yes, she’d known he was a whiz kid but a ‘true’ genius? It didn’t matter though. He was still a womanizing pig as far as she was concerned, just a very smart womanizing pig, but… her opinion of him had nonetheless just been seriously altered.

Meanwhile, Spike went back to eyeing her figure. So much skin exposed… skin and… Then he realized there was bound to be a flock of men surrounding her in no time flat, something he decidedly didn’t like the thought of. “If you’re goin’ to the beach dressed like that, you’re not goin’ alone. `M comin’ with you.”

Slinging her tote over her shoulder, she sighed heavily, thinking this would be her one chance to be alone, get away from him for awhile. “You forget you don’t own a pair of swim trunks,” she pointed out, hoping to dissuade him.

“Don’ need them, `m wearin’ shorts.”

“Whatever, I’m outta here.”

She left their room without a backward glance, leaving him to curse as he hurriedly gathered what he’d need and chased after her.

~~~*~~~

Spike laid his beach towel right next to Buffy’s, ignoring her little huff and the fact she moved a few feet away from him after he did that. Putting the ear pieces of her iPod on and laying down with her eyes closed, he startled her when placing a hand on her arm to get her attention.

“What?” she asked irritated while removing one ear-bud to hear him.

“You’re gonna want some of this.” Holding out a bottle of sunscreen for her, she shook her head instead of taking it.

“I want a tan. That’s what going to the beach is all about.”

“Buffy, pet, you’re gonna get a burn. Look at how white you are.”

Raising a neatly trimmed brow, she jibed, “This coming from Mr. ‘I’m-so-pale-I-look-like-a-vampire’? I tan easily. You’re the one who needs it more than I do. Besides, its four thirty right now and the sun sets around six. It would take several hours in the sun before I came away with a burn, not less than two.”

“Fine. Don’ say I didn’ warn you, though.” He slathered himself all over with the white substance and settled back to continue reading his book, but every now and then when Buffy would hum to her music or shift, he’d glance at her. She looked like an absolute goddess in that suit and it seemed every guy that passed by thought so, too, what with their appreciative stares, leading him to shoot angry glares at each one of them so they got the message she was with him… if only figuratively.

Buffy flipped onto her stomach after a while, affording him a perfect view of her curvaceous bum. She was so bloody distracting, lying there all innocent and oblivious to his lustful thoughts that he finally gave up on reading altogether and shut his book. Turning to lie on his stomach like she had, he hoped it would calm his hormones and hide his erection while he closed his eyes and tried to think of other things… like an ice cold shower.

It worked, too, until he heard Buffy moving around. Peeking one eye open, he saw her start to walk towards the water. “Goin’ for a swim, luv?”

“Yup. Feeling a little sweaty,” she answered over her shoulder.

Turning back over, he propped himself up on both elbows, watching her clip her hair up in a sloppy bun before wading into the water. She didn’t swim; she more or less just leaned back to float, moving her arms against the small waves that rolled towards the shore, smiling with her eyes closed, face turned towards the sky.

It was a beautiful form of torture to watch her walking slowly back towards him, the setting sun making her glow like an angel. Other bikini clad women passed in front of him but he never even saw them, his eyes were riveted to the way her hips sashayed back and forth, exaggerated from walking on the soft sand impeding her normal gait, her body shining wet from the ocean in the waning sunlight, nipples tightened to sharp peaks beneath the black material…

“You ready to head back to the hotel?” he asked when she reached for her towel to dry off.

“Definitely!” Using both hands, she pulled her top away from her skin a fraction to peer down inside briefly before letting go. “That’s the only thing I don’t like about the ocean.”

“Wha’s that?” God, how he wished he’d been standing next to her so he could get a glimpse of her perfect, creamy breasts.

“Sand everywhere. Even beneath my suit,” she answered with a grimace. “I so need a shower before we go out to dinner.”

“Right then.” Standing, he picked up his things and helped her with hers, placing his book inside her tote along with her dry clothes and iPod. She secured her towel around her waist, shivering slightly as she did so. He witnessed goose bumps spring up on her arms and took his own towel to drape it around her shoulders, feeling happy when she offered him a sweet smile of gratitude before they headed out to call a cab to take them back to the hotel.

~~~*~~~

Buffy noticed her skin felt sensitive when she both showered and dressed but shrugged it off until she stood in front of the mirror. Huh, guess I did get a slight burn, she thought when she saw the pink hue of her skin. Nothing a bit of makeup can’t fix.

“You know, I have to give you credit, Spike,” she said through the closed door as she put her earrings on. The dress he’d so stealthy packed for her was perfect for dining out.

“Yeah? What for?” They each agreed to get ready at the same time but in private, her in the bathroom and he in the bedroom.

“Are you decent? Can I come out?”

“Yes, pet.”

Stepping out into the room, she forgot what she was going to say and just stood there for a moment, taken by how handsome he looked. It was a simple navy colored suit, but the pale, sky colored shirt underneath with its white collar and soft pastel yellow tie… Wow! She marveled at how the ensemble brought out his eyes, sparkling in a beautiful and unique shade of blue, like that of a tourmaline gemstone.

Spike was equally enthralled by how exquisite Buffy looked in the black dress and heels he’d chose to pack for her. The material clung to and accentuated her soft round curves and tiny waist flawlessly. She looked so perfectly feminine as she gracefully moved forward to adjust his tie for him that he temporarily lost the ability to speak. And her scent, God, he’d never tire of her scent.

“Thanks, luv,” he told her. When she took a step back from him was when he first noticed the tone of her skin. “Oh, Buffy,” he said softly with concern. “Does it hurt?”

He reached out and gently ran his fingertips across her shoulder, pulling away when she cringed and hissed in pain. “Owww,” she whined. “I knew I was a little pink, but I didn’t know-”

“Pink? I’d say more like red!” He shook his head at her, wanting to say ‘I told you so’ but couldn’t find it in his heart after seeing her reaction to his touch. “Tell you what.” He turned to grab her purse and handed it over. “When we get back from dinner, I’ve jus’ the thing to fix you right up, take the sting outta that burn.”

“You will, I-I mean you do?” His words were so confident that she was curious how he was going to accomplish that because a burn was a burn and hurt regardless until it turned into a tan. “How?”

Holding the door open, he beckoned for her to walk out first before answering. “You’ll see. Trust me.”

Trust him? Not something she thought herself capable of, but under the circumstances, if he could do something about the pain she was in, she’d give him an ounce and hope for the best.

~~~*~~~

Spike took her to a five star restaurant outside of town. With the champagne poured and their orders on the way, he held up his glass. “To our success.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” They touched glasses and sipped from the elegant crystal flutes in unison, setting them down just as the waiter brought their food.

Once their server left and Buffy picked up her fork, Spike suddenly began to giggle.

“What?” She paused, wanting to know what he found so amusing as he pointed at her plate. “What?!?!” she snapped when his chuckles turned into an all out belly laughing fest.

“I, A-HAHAHA, jus’… ahem, s-sorry, `s jus’ a-hahaha, AHEM.” he tried like hell to compose himself when her glare turned deadly. “Sorry, luv. I jus’ can’ decide who’s more red… you or the A-HA, the lobster you ordered, A-HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Uhhh! You’re insufferable… you…” But she couldn’t help it. He was right. His joke was not only funny, but well timed, too. She laughed along with him and when they’d both sufficiently calmed down, she asked him with a beaming smile, “But you’re going to fix me, right?”

“Yes… yes, I am,” he assured her. “Tha’s a promise. Now eat up.”

She took a few bites of her lobster then speared one of the sautéed carrots on her fork and popped it inside her mouth. After a couple of chews, she went to swallow and immediately became alarmed as it lodged itself in her throat. She banged her hand on the table loudly to get Spike’s attention.

Looking up from the sudden noise, he saw a panic stricken Buffy, eyes wide, her hands flailing about as if trying to tell him something. “Wha’s wrong? Buffy? Buffy, you’re scarin’ me, luv!” It wasn’t until she grabbed her throat and her face turned pale did he realize she was choking.

She watched him jump to his feet in a flash while she began banging on her chest which, luckily, dislodged the carrot, forcing it to complete its journey to her stomach. Taking in one deep breath after another, she continued hitting her chest and coughed while holding her other hand out to stop him from coming over to her. “Swallowed!” *Cough* “I’m good… no need to-” *Cough* “-panic.” There were a few people surrounding them that looked just as relieved as Spike when she was able to speak normally again. She watched as a devious smirk formed on his face as he seated himself. “What?”

“You had me at swallow, luv.”

“Oh. My. God! You did not just make fun about… forget it!” He’d forever ruined the most romantic moment from the movie ‘Jerry Maguire’ for her with that statement and of course he had to add to it by doing the tongue behind the teeth thingy.

“I apologize, pet.” He held off from snickering to ask, “You okay?” She nodded but ignored him so he reached across the table to touch her hand, getting her to look at him. “`M truly sorry. You almost chokin’ to death wasn’ somethin’ I should’ve made fun `f.” Stroking the top of her hand with his thumb, he tilted his head to the side, needing to be sure she wasn’t mad. “We okay?”

She sighed as if annoyed but caved the second she saw the sincerity in his eyes, damn those eyes! “We’re okay.”

Finishing their meal, Buffy excused herself to the ladies room but not before he told her he’d take care of the bill and to meet him near the entrance. After she left the table, he signaled their waiter over, whispered something in his ear and handed him enough cash to cover the bill and then more besides the boy’s tip. The young man nodded his head vigorously and immediately sprinted towards the kitchen.

Spike was waiting for her when she came walking to the front of the restaurant, holding a rather large brown bag in one hand. “What’s that?”

He smiled brightly and put his hand on the small of her back as he pushed the door open. “The cure for your burn, pet.”

“A doggie bag of food?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Laughing at her confused look, he told again, “Trust me.”

~~~*~~~

Back at the hotel………

“I have to what?!?!” she asked when he told her to put her bikini back on and lay down on the bed.

Holding his hands up defensively, he told her, “`S either that or get naked… which, by the way, wouldn’ bother me a bit.” He waggled his brows at her before heading to the other side of the room.

“What are you up to? Seriously?” She watched him open the windows up wide then walk back to the where the brown sack lay.

Pulling two half gallons of cider vinegar from the bag, he explained his plan. “I need you to expose the areas where you’re burned so I can apply this to it. It takes the sting out.”

“Huh? How is something that’s basically food going to do that?” He pinned her with a serious look.

“It will re-hydrate your skin, prevent it from itchin’, blisterin’ and take out the sting. `S a trick I learned from my Mum when I was little and got a right nasty sunburn. Trust me. Now get your bathin’ suit and go change.”

“Fine! But if you pull any funny business…” She let her threat hang in the air while shaking a finger at him.

“I’ll need all the towels before you go into the bathroom. I’ll ring the front desk to bring us more while you’re changin’. Oh, and be sure to clean your face ‘f any makeup, too.”

As skeptical as she was, she complied and handed him what he asked for then grabbed her suit and shut the door behind her.

Spike called the clerk downstairs and informed her he’d need more towels - and why - so the cleaning lady wouldn’t be surprised and was grateful the woman on the other end of the line understood, saying she’d have them sent up straight away. After hanging up, he rapped his knuckles on the door that separated him from Buffy.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s it hurt the most… your burn?”

“All over.” It seemed to feel even worse than it did earlier, making it painfully difficult to get out of her clothes, never mind the agony of putting her bikini back on.

“Okay. Jus’ needed to know how to prepare things.”

He laid two towels across her bed so she could lie on it then pulled a bottle of water from the mini fridge and the plastic ice bucket. Right after he set them down on the side table, a knock came from the main door.

The maid stood there with an armful of clean towels. “You requested these, sir?”

“Yes, thank you.” Taking them from her and setting them aside, he pulled out two fifty dollar bills. “`S gonna reek bad in here once we’re through and so will the comforter.” He gave her one of the bills and held up the other to make another request. “Would you be so kind as to come back in say, ohhhh, a half hour? I think it would be best if I left everythin’ the vinegar has touched outside the door so you could pick it up and take it straight to the laundry room. Wouldn’t want any complaints from the other guests `bout the stench.” Handing her the other fifty when she replied ‘of course’, he closed the door as she walked away.

By the time Buffy came back out, she was caught off guard. First by the strong aroma and second to see Spike had changed back into his shorts… sans shirt. She crinkled her nose, thankful for the stinky distraction of the half naked man. “Ewww!”

“Come on, Goldilocks.” He patted her bed. “You’ll get through it and it won’ take long. Jus’ lay down.” He wanted to laugh at the way she cautiously approached him, like he was going to pounce on her. Lord knows he wouldn’t mind if the bird weren’t in such pain.

She did as he asked, noting that the towels she laid on were cold and wet with vinegar, causing her to shiver.

“Nothin’ I can do `bout the temperature. Sorry, pet.”

She watched as he doused the remaining towels in the acidic liquid and carefully folded her entire body up like a tortilla, save for her face. The fumes alone were starting to make her cough and she had to breathe out of her mouth when asking, “How come the stench doesn’t bother you?”

He took several tissues, since they were much softer than a washcloth, and dipped them in the ice bucket that held a ratio of one part vinegar to one part water. “We use it as a condiment on our potatoes in England. Don’ mind the smell as much as you yanks.” Wringing them out as best he could, he moved to sit by her side and brought them up to her face.

“Oh no. You are not going to-”

“Stop bein’ so bloody stubborn,” he interrupted. “I diluted it so it won’ be as strong. Now hold your breath.”

“But-”

“Or don’, your choice.” Leaning forward, he began dabbing her face with it, smirking when she finally shut her gob. He made quick work of it for her sake then moved the bucket to the bathroom and dumped it in the sink. When he came back, he resumed his spot by her side and inhaled deeply with his eyes closed. “Mmmmm, you smell good `nough to eat, luv.”

“Uhmm, ewww!” She scrunched her nose in disgust.

He shrugged. “`S a compliment.”

“I smell like a Caesar salad. How is that a compliment?” As he leered at her, she knew she shouldn’t have asked.

“Nothin’ I like better than to tuck into some...” His eyes swept over her body, stopping to focus lustfully at her hips. “Fish and chips.”

“God, Spike!” she cried. “That’s... you’re so......... DISGUSTING! Do you ever have a single thought that isn’t related to sex? Wait… don’t answer that. Just tell me how long I have to stay like this and why there’s another full bottle of vinegar?”

He let out a hearty laugh before answering both questions. “At least five more minutes. The other bottle is for your bath water to soak in right before you go to bed tonight. You’ll sleep better without the friction of your sheets irritatin’ that burn.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that.

Once those five minutes were up, he came over and gently unwrapped her from the towels, telling her to stand up, wait until the vinegar had dried from her skin completely on its own then she could get dressed. “I’ll take care of cleanin’ up the mess while you do.”

“I can’t rinse it off?”

“Not unless you don’ want it to work. Don’ worry, the smell will evaporate from your skin as well. Now after you take a bath later, you can rinse off.”

“Ughh,” she complained while grabbing some clothes to change into and headed for the bathroom, flicking the switch to the fan on after closing the door.

To Spike’s amusement, the vinegar had seeped completely through her blankets and sheets. And though he had a feeling he might be paying to replace the mattress, he couldn’t help the wicked smile that curled his lips when thinking Buffy would have to share his bed. Yes, she’d be outraged and true, she would probably break his arm if he tried anything, but to sleep with her again, to ‘accidentally’ put his arm around her… It would have to be enough and hopefully prove to her she could trust him despite the constant sexual innuendos and teasing. `Course if she can’ keep her hands to herself, who am I to deny her?

Dumping everything outside in the hallway, he came back in, closed the windows and turned the air conditioner up. That’s when Buffy walked out of the bathroom, gasping at seeing her bed stripped and a huge wet spot decorating it.

“Oh-my-God!” Running over to it, she didn’t have to bend down to smell the vinegar still emanating from the mattress. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath then looked at Spike.

“You could sleep with me tonight,” he offered with as much innocence lacing his voice as he could muster while holding his breath for her response.

“So not gonna happen.”

Bugger! Her stubborn streak was so bloody frustrating as she stood there with her hands on her hips and a look that clearly said where he could stick his suggestion.

Picking up the phone and ignoring his questioning look, she asked housekeeping to bring up a complete set of clean bedding, because they’d had an accident. She would have blamed Spike for doing this on purpose but knew he was probably just as surprised as she was. Not so surprised he’d try and take advantage of the situation, though. As if I’m going to sleep in the same bed as him. Her body visibly shivered as she recalled waking up in his warm embrace.

“You cold?” he asked. “I can turn the AC down.”

“Ah, yeah, a little.” Fibber, a voice in her head retaliated at the lie.

~~~*~~~

After Buffy’s bed was re-made – a few towels spread out under the sheets to cover the wet spot - she laid there watching a movie while Spike sat up reading.

He hadn’t said a word to her in what felt like hours which should have made her happy, but instead only served to confuse her. Sure, he was still in the same room, but it was like he wasn’t there and isn’t that what she wanted anyway? A little space, a little time away from him, some silence? Yes, yes, she did, so why did it bother her that every time she spared him a sideways glance he never once acknowledged her? And why can’t he put a shirt on? She wanted to ask him to, but that would have earned her some off-handed remark she didn’t want to deal with.

Looking at him for what felt like the fiftieth time, not that she could help herself, he was just so… disturbingly handsome. Whenever he turned a page or readjusted his posture, she watched the play of muscles as they rippled beneath his skin in total awe. No one should be that fit, that… perfect. He must be one of the seven deadly sins come to life… temptation. Er, no, that wasn’t one of them. There was pride, envy, greed, gluttony, lust, a-ha! Lust. That’s him to a ‘T’. Wait, no! Bad Buffy, she reminded herself, lusty thoughts about Spike?!?! So off the list! It didn’t help matters either to know how smart he actually was and the fact he’d selflessly taken care of her tonight when he could have just laughed and said ‘I told you so’. He’s evil, he has to be.

Turning back to the television, she noticed the movie had ended. As she took in a breath to sigh, she noticed she could still smell the vinegar. She sat up and sniffed her arms to see if it was her but she couldn’t tell. Damnit! It was going to be hell sleeping tonight with the disgusting odor lingering in her nostrils.

“Somethin’ the matter, pet?”

“I think I still stink.”

“Which reminds me, since `s gettin’ late, you might wanna take that bath soon.”

Checking the clock on the nightstand, she knew he was right. They had to get up bright and early tomorrow in order to catch their flight back home.

“Be sure the water is tepid, not hot, then dump the entire bottle in and soak for at least twenty five minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she groaned at the thought of being immersed yet again in vinegar, but at least she could rinse off under the showerhead this time.

Watching her get up to grab the bottle and drag her feet towards the bathroom with a sullen expression on her face made him feel bad for her, but he knew she’d thank him tomorrow for making her do this. He heard the water start running before she poked her head out to talk to him.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?”

“Is it okay if I use something on my skin?”

“Like what?”

“My vanilla bath oil? Please?”

So tha’s what makes her smell so delicious. “Only after you finish soakin’ and rinse off.” He definitely couldn’t say no to that!

“Thank God!”

Waiting until she’d retrieved her oil, disappeared in the bathroom and heard the lock click in place could he take his growing frustration out on his aching cock by having himself a good wank. He’d hardly read but a few pages tonight and wasn’t able to concentrate very well on them at all, not with the feel of Buffy’s eyes on him. Oh, he noticed alright, had even seen her lick her lips a couple of times when she didn’t think he was looking. Was she teasing him or testing him? Either way, he was near the breaking point of just going over to her bed, tearing her clothes off and having his wicked way with her.

Thankful to hear her start humming in the tub, he pulled his shorts down over his hips and took hold of shaft, giving it a couple of long pulls, his mind drifting back to this afternoon and how sexy she looked.

Her legs in those candy pink shorts, her puckered nipples in that bikini, the wet, glowing image of her walking towards him as the sun set… It didn’t take long before his strokes became frantic, hand a blur of motion; eyes screwed tightly shut, brow furrowed, breathing labored though he remained cognizant of keeping quiet. He came fast and hard; lifting his head to watch rope after rope of semen hit his stomach, wishing Buffy’s mouth was there so he could coat her throat, paint her lips with it.

As his orgasm subsided, he slowed his rhythm, strangling the last bit of cum from his cock to dribble a thick, lazy path over the ridge of his helmet and onto his fingers. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes, still tugging lightly on himself while getting his breathing under control.

Reluctant to move but knowing he had to clean himself; he used a handful of tissues on the nightstand, balled them up and threw it in the trashcan nearest him. Now he needed some sleep, now he could get some sleep. He quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants, turned off his light and crawled under the covers to lie on his side, facing Buffy’s bed.

~~~*~~~

Forty minutes later, Buffy emerged from the bathroom to find a sleeping Spike despite the TV still blaring in the background. Tiptoeing over to her bed, she pulled back the covers and slid inside before reaching for the remote, knocking it to the floor accidentally.

“Have a nice bath?”

She jumped a mile when she heard the deep rumble of his voice. “Uhmm, yeah. Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” The light from the TV bathed his face in a blue light as he looked at her, accentuating the sharp angles of his face while making his eyes appear a deep sapphire.

“You didn’,” he assured her, it was the enticing aroma of vanilla that roused him as he was just drifting off. “And you can leave the telly on if you want. Doesn’ bother me.” He’d watched her move about silently as if mindful not to wake him and found her consideration bloody adorable.

“O-okay. I’ll turn it down though.” She forced herself to look away from him as he continued to stare at her, a half asleep, half amused look on his face. Laying on her side while looking at the TV, she glanced at him one more time to find his eye’s still fixed on her.

“G’night, Buffy,” he whispered.

“Night, William.”

~~~*~~~

Buffy tossed and turned throughout the night, the stink of vinegar ever present and so strong it kept waking her. Some time after two AM, she finally gave up. There was no sleep to be had with the acidic sting in her nostrils. Please dear Lord, do not let me regret this decision. Getting out of bed, she went over to Spike’s, whispering his name.

“Spike.” No response. “Spike.” she said a little louder, this time getting a response.

“Yeah?”

His voice sounded so groggy she felt guilty for rousing him. “I can’t sleep in that bed. The stench is too strong.” There was a short bout of silence before he suddenly flipped the covers down.

“Get in.”

“Thank you,” she sighed with relief, hoping the bed hadn’t made her stink. And since he had his back to her, she felt it best to lie on her side as well, facing away from him.

Unfortunately, this didn’t last long. Her prayer was not only ignored, it was thrown back in her face in less than an hour.

She woke in the middle of some weird, random dream and needed to reposition herself to get back to sleep. Instead of moving, however, her body went rigid when she found herself cuddled up to Spike. He was lying on his back, the arm nearest her outstretched, the other resting lightly on his stomach. And that wasn’t the worst part. She was the one sidled up against him with her hand on his chest and head on his shoulder.

More than a little freaked out she was responsible for this predicament and not him, she very carefully raised her hand up, placing it on her hip. As she slowly raised her head and began backing away, the movement must have stirred Spike in his sleep, triggering him to unconsciously turn towards her to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her in close to rest his forehead against hers. Oh-God, oh-God, OH-GOD!

It was obvious he was still asleep from the sound of his breathing pattern to the steady beat of his heart she felt where their chests made contact. Now she was stuck… stuck waiting and watching his face to be sure he remained deep in slumber before making a second attempt to get away.

It didn’t work out that way for her either. Her body was so tense as she tried to hold still that she couldn’t keep from trembling, which after a minute or two, must have woken him. His lids fluttered a few times then opened, though it still took a few seconds before it appeared he was able to focus on her. To Buffy, it felt like an eternity passed as they just laid there staring at each other in silence, like neither knew what to say.

Noticing how she nervously shook in his arms as he gazed into her wide eyes, Spike wasn’t sure how they wound up like this. The fact she wasn’t pushing him away told him it must have been an accident. Thinking as fast as he could to calm whatever fears were causing her to quiver, he spoke first.

“Before you pass judgment or react badly here, I want you to listen to me. Can you do that, please?”

“Y-yes.” Her nerves relaxed a bit from the deep, soothing bass of his voice.

“As people…” he began cautiously, “We need touch for our emotional well-being, right from the time we’re born.” Picking her hand up, he rubbed his thumb lightly across the top in a non-threatening manner then lowered it and let her go. “The closeness from physical contact brings comfort to the soul and mind whether you’re a child or an adult. `S a healthy thing we require as humans.” He paused to let that sink in; trying to read her eyes to be sure she wasn’t shutting down on him or getting defensive before he continued. “`M not goin’ to try anythin’ with you here, I promise. So le’s not overanalyze… this.” His eyes swept between their bodies to indicate what he meant. “Jus’… let it be. For tonight. Okay?”

To say she was stunned was an understatement. This was not what she expected to hear. Not from Spike! But it made perfect sense, he made perfect sense, and the fact he looked her in the eyes as he spoke told her he was being honest. Rather than answer him, she bit her bottom lip and nodded, choosing to ‘let it be’ as he’d suggested.

When she agreed with a tiny nod, he smiled. Tilting his neck up, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead then laid his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes. “Now get some sleep.”

As he purred out his last statement, she took note that he hadn’t called her kitten or pet or luv which funny enough, held weight in her decision to stay in his embrace. When she let out the long sigh of relief she’d held in, she felt him take her wrist and gently lay it across his waist then wound his arms completely around her, pulling her in closer against him. It felt good, felt… nice. And though she wouldn’t be making a habit of this, she let herself just enjoy the comfort he was giving her. Pushing back any attraction she denied feeling in the first place, she subtly nestled into him even closer thinking, what happens in Florida, stays in Florida.



Hopefully everyone had a laugh or two? Lemme know your thoughts if you have some time and again, I’ll answer reviews as I can – gotta keep my man happy while he’s home, *winks*. I’ll post again in approximately two weeks. Hugs you all tight!

Thursday morning………

PLEASE READ ALL OF THE ABOVE AUTHOR’S NOTE, THANKS.

The annoying buzz, buzz, buzz of the alarm going off at six AM startled the blonds awake, making them separate in a hurry to turn the damn thing off. Knowing they had little time to waste if they wanted to get to the airport on time helped Buffy to avoid contemplating last night’s sleeping arrangements in the harsh light of day and the probability of acting awkward towards Spike.

Buffy was a flurry of motion in getting ready, but Spike made it a point to stop her and ask about her burn.

“Honestly? It doesn’t sting as much as it did yesterday. Seems your cure worked.”

“Good.” He nodded once, intending to go back to packing his things when she suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering ‘thank you’ so sweetly in his ear he felt his heart skip a beat. Before he could hug her back though, she was gone.

Sure, he knew Buffy ran either hot or cold and there was rarely an in between with the stubborn chit, but he thought - or at least hoped - last night had bred some form of middle ground for them to build on, that he’d proved something to her.

Little did he realize just how confused she had yet to make him.

By the time they got back to the apartment, dropped off their luggage and changed for work, Buffy felt they were ‘back on track’ with their lives… such as it was. So despite Spike’s protests, they both went their separate ways like they normally did - in separate cabs - even though their destination was the same.

Yeah, she felt sort of guilty about giving him the brush off over something as simple as riding into work together, but the closeness they’d shared last night had a dual effect on her she wasn’t ready to examine. It was easier for her to just go back to the way things were than to think it held any significant meaning. Like he said, let’s not overanalyze this, so she should - as he’d also said - ‘just let it be’.

~~~*~~~

With less than half a day at work and a meeting first thing tomorrow morning, Buffy and Spike split the workload in preparing for it since she also had to start in early on their department report that he wanted to see every Monday morning. She refused to go through what she had last Friday and stay late if she didn’t have to.

Towards five o’clock, they were sitting there in silence, each doing their own thing while Spike noticed she’d been chewing on the end of that old pen of hers for the last twenty minutes. She’d had the brand new one he bought her just sitting there in her desk for over a week now, so what was she doing still using that one? It annoyed him to no end because she hadn’t even said a word about it, no acknowledgment, no thank you, no… nothing! Unable to contain his growing irritation, he finally said something to her.

“Bloody hell, Buffy! Are you ever goin’ to use the pen?”

“Huh?” she asked confused, looking over to see an aggravated Spike. “What pen?”

He abruptly stood, walked over to her desk and forced her to have to scoot back when he slid her top drawer out to retrieve the black velvet case containing his gift.

Sitting down on the edge of her desk, he opened it, and then held it in front of her. “This pen.” And upon seeing it, the chit actually had the nerve to act surprised. Typical!

“Are you serious?”

“`F course I am.” In response, she folded her arms across her chest defensively, making him feel like she was looking ‘down’ at him. “So why aren’ you?” he insisted after she didn’t answer right away.

“Because I can’t be bought.”

What the hell?!?! Is that what she really thought? That he was trying to bloody buy her?

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you throw your money around. Your sybaritic way of life disgusts me.” And it truly did, after all she was a woman used to taking care of herself ever since she was a teen. It was abhorrent to see the way he threw his money around. He’d probably done it all his life, buy whatever it was he wanted that he couldn’t get with his charm, since he obviously came from a rich family.

“Tha’s a pretty big word, pet. Sure you should be usin’ it?” he smirked.

“Oh, excuse me, Mr. Super Genius. Are you going to start correcting my grammar now?”

“Buffy, I-”

“You just bought it to show off, hoping it would pacify me over having to work in the same room with you. That’s why I’m not using it.”

“Errrrrrrghh,” he growled as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I’ve got money, so what? But I got you this `cause `m tired of seein’ you use that ugly thing.” He pointed to the pen in her hand. “You chew on it like a starvin’ rat and it drives me insane. How much I spent on it was the furthest thing from my mind and I didn’t do it to try to buy you or make you feel better `bout anythin’.”

She considered his words for a minute. Had she misjudged him? Or was this an act? Got to be an act. “This-” she held up her writing utensil, “-happens to be my favorite pen.”

In a tired, ragged voice, he told her, “I give up.”

He snapped the box shut, tossed it down in front of her and went to sit back in his own chair, clearly exasperated, making her second guess herself.

“You know,” he started without even looking at her. “A ‘thank you’ wouldn’ hurt. It was a gift after all. Jus’ a bloody gift.”

Okay, so maybe I misunderstood his motive, she thought as guilt crept in when seeing how genuine his frustration over the issue was. “Thank you.” There, I said it, albeit a little on the sarcastic side but she’d said it. He gave her a sideways glance that said he cared nothing for her gratuitous verbalization of appreciation. Ughh! Now they were both behaving like children, all because of some stupid, overpriced pen. She let him feel her eyes boring into him but he ignored her. Fine! They had too much to do together to be acting like this and since she was in the wrong then-then… I’ll make it right.

Bloody ungrateful, frigid... stubborn-

“Spike.”

She spoke his name calmly and came to stand next to him but he still refused to look at her.

Sighing at his juvenile behavior, she got down on one knee so they were at least eye level with one another and tried again. “Spike,” she said a little softer. Good, at least he was looking at her even though his sourpuss expression was locked in place. She lifted her old pen so he could see it then promptly threw it in the trashcan beside his desk. Leaning in, she gave him a gentle kiss to his cheek and whispered, “Thank you,” as sincerely as she could.

Not only was he flabbergasted by her tender apology, but flustered, too. “You… you don’ really like it… do you?” he asked her quietly. Sure, he wasn’t happy over her reaction to his present and while he appreciated that she was putting forth the effort to make up with him, it didn’t mean she had to throw her ‘favorite’ pen out either. And why the bloody hell am I gettin’ flustered over a li’l kiss like some pimply-faced Nancy-boy?

She was instantly doomed when that irresistible pout of his made an appearance. And the insecure manner in which he asked his question, like he wanted, no, needed reassurance… She swatted his shoulder playfully and grinned. “Come on now, you know it’s gorgeous.” That got a tiny smile out of him. “I love it and I’m sorry I misinterpreted your intention. So again… thank you.” His face was positively beaming now, though she could tell he tried to play it off.

Clearing his throat, he gave her a simple, “You’re welcome.”

“So, are we good?”

“Yeah, pet. We’re good.”

And so was the rest of their evening.

~~~*~~~

Friday……..

After Spike and Buffy came back from their morning meeting, Spike excused himself, saying he’d be back in about ten minutes. He headed down to the finance department to pick up both their regular paychecks as well as the commission checks earned for the new accounts they’d procured. Buffy didn’t know it, but the day after she shared her photo album with him, he called up Liam and reasoned with him over why she should receive the same percentage of commission as he did, raving about her skills and how invaluable an asset she was to him as not only an assistant, but a partner. And luckily, the old man told him if that’s really what he thought was fair, then he’d authorize it.

Spike came striding back into their office wearing an abnormally huge smile, making Buffy curious but apprehensive at the same time. Sure, she’d witnessed him in one of his good moods before, but he seemed to be acting exceptionally pleased with himself over something.

“Got a surprise for you, pet.”

“O-kay,” she responded warily as she walked towards the man now bouncing on his heels with the enthusiasm of a kid holding a golden ticket to Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory. “What is it?”

He handed over three envelopes which she immediately recognized as her wages. “Uhmm….thanks for picking up my checks?”

“Open them.”

“Why?”

“Open them, open them!” he said a little more excitedly this time.

My God, is he high or was it the double espresso I warned him not to drink earlier? “Can I ask why its so impor-”

“Will you please jus’ open them?”

He was becoming impatient, causing her to be even more wary of his reasons. “You know… how much someone makes is kind of personal, so again, why-”

“Bloody hell, woman, jus’ open them for Chris’ sake!”

“Alright-alright! Jeez, what’s your damage?” But he ignored her until she had all three checks in her hand, her eyes growing wider by the second as she saw the figures on two in particular. Looking up at him in confusion, all she could say was, “This can’t be right.”

“Oh, but it is,” he winked at her.

“But… how?”

He proceeded to tell her that while chatting with Liam one day, he mentioned how successful Buffy and he were when working as a team and wondered if she couldn’t have the same cut as him from each account they secured.

“And Mr. O’Connor agreed?”

“Authorized it after we hung up.” At her look of skepticism, he added, “Buffy, I’ve known him personally for years… he trusts my judgment.”

She gasped, believing him when remembering he’d been transferred in from London, no doubt from where Mr. O’Connor himself worked. Her eyes flitted between her checks and Spike several times before she let out a joyful squee. Launching herself at him for a huge hug, she expressed her gratitude over and over and over again while he hugged her back. When she moved her head to give him a kiss on the cheek, his face twisted towards hers and she caught his lips instead.

For Spike, the kiss started out as a total accident, an automatic response he didn’t give much thought to. When their mouths met, however, his desire instinctually kicked in and he tugged her even closer, turned his head sideways, tongue slipping out to lick the crease of her lips, begging entrance inside, finding the moment fortuitous though it wasn’t planned. He thought for sure ‘this’ was the moment as the kiss entered the three second mark, right before she gave him a fierce shove to free herself.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked in a shocked voice, appalled at his audacity. With undisguised lust burning in his eyes, he took a step forward, his arms reaching out for her. She held up her hand in a halting manner and backed away as far as possible from him.

“Buf-”

“Do not mistake my gratitude for an invitation of another kind,” she interrupted. “Just because you did this for me doesn’t mean it gives you the right to-to… kiss me like that or think I owe you any… physical favors.”

Spike was struck speechless, didn’t know whether to defend himself by pointing out all the times she’d misled him… ogled him when she thought he didn’t notice, reciprocated his kiss last week in the car - however briefly - that she’d slept in his arms willingly the other night or-or… arghhhhhhhhhh!!! He was more than offended; he was down right confused, irritated with her hot and cold routine.

Getting angrier by the second, he unconsciously balled his fists tight and clenched his jaw so hard his teeth threatened to break as they ground together. But he bit his tongue, held back, afraid of what he might say and the consequences that would follow. He wanted to strangle her, kiss her breathless, knock the truth into her, possess her, show her who she belonged to, turn her fire into passion and use it against her, fuck her senseless until she begged for more, he wanted, wanted, wanted…

Bracing herself for an ugly confrontation when his face went red with rage, he surprised her by walking out the door unexpectedly, leaving her there alone and bewildered in the total silence that accompanied his exit.

~~~*~~~

Spike took the elevator to nowhere in particular, wondering why he even cared what Buffy thought. So the unintended kiss triggered his hormones, so what? Guilty as charged. But he didn’t expect any ‘favors’ from her over the commission checks, it never even crossed his mind. He should have guessed, should have known that ‘typical Buffy’ would respond by automatically assuming the worst of him. How could she even think he’d coerce her like that? That’s not how he operated when it came to a girl, never had been and never would be. It wasn’t like he was waiting around for her either for fuck’s sake, he knew she’d come crawling to his bed when she was ready so he needn't bother trying to seduce her. Tease her? Yeah, he couldn’t help it, it was too much fun to resist knowing she wanted him, plus she took it well… most of the time.

As the numbers slowly ticked down floor by floor, his mind rapidly ran through the memories of all the times they had gotten along, taken care of each other, how it left him feeling… strange.

Something clicked in his brain then, something he hadn’t been aware of until that very minute, helping him to make sense out of everything. He straightened his posture, tugged at the hem of his jacket and adjusted his tie as the doors opened to the main lobby. Sexually frustrated. That’s what he was. He hadn’t had any since London and it was getting to him.

Pushing the appropriate button to bring him back to his department’s floor, he started feeling better. Being around Buffy twenty four seven, he’d forgotten there was a huge city full of willing women. He just had to get out there, pick one, have a good shag and she’d be out of his system in no time at all.

When Spike came back into the office, he simply sat down and went straight back to work, acting as if nothing had happened. Buffy was stunned at first and could only deduce from his behavior that he needed to walk off his anger rather than have a fight with her. And over the next hour - before lunch - the only talk they engaged in was business related which truthfully, was more than fine by her. Perhaps he finally understood and accepted what she’d told him earlier… not to expect anything from her in return for getting a larger monetary cut from the accounts they secured.

~~~*~~~

“`M gonna head out,” Spike told Buffy about ten minutes before five. “You comin’?”

“I can’t right now. I need at least an hour or so to finish up this report.”

“Right then.” He nodded once, remaining indifferent towards her. “See you when you get home.”

“Okay.”

Honestly? The impersonal way in which he continued treating her for the rest of afternoon sort of wigged her out. This was not the Spike she was used to dealing with at all. On the bright side, maybe it meant he was going to back off altogether from the suggestive talk and sexual taunting he normally dealt her. She just hoped he would extend this conduct to when they were in their apartment as well. The adjustment would be weird to make but then she remembered that with these bigger checks she’d be earning, it would make finding another place to live happen much sooner and when she did, the distance it’d provide them would make her life easier.

~~~*~~~

On the elevator ride down, the doors stopped to let a young, buxom blonde on. Looking her over twice in appreciation, Spike put on a charming smile and took note of the button she pressed.

“`Lo there. You work in marketing?”

“Oh, yes,” she giggled while twirling a lock of her hair.

“So why is it we’ve never met before?” He held out his hand to her in greeting. “The name’s William Giles, Vice President of Sales.” She placed her hand in his and batted her eyelashes when he kissed it. Giving her a wink, he added, “But you can call me Spike.”

Since the ride to her floor was a short one, Spike made the most of it, quickly enchanting her with well practiced lines and compliments. The bird flirted back and forth with him making his work effortless which told him she was as ‘easy’ and ‘eager’ as he was to continue their playful… talk.

As the elevator slowed to let her off, Spike asked for her phone number, “If you feel inclined to… get together sometime?” She surprised him by stepping in close and running a finger down his chest.

“Why wait?” she asked, pleased by the devious smirk he gave her in return as his answer. “What time do you get off?”

“Only after you do, pet.”

~~~*~~~

Shortly after six, Buffy placed her report on Spike’s desk and headed to Willy’s for a glass of wine. She had him pour her a slightly larger glass than normal to help relax her nerves because frankly, she didn’t know what she expected to find when she got to her apartment. Willy didn’t say a thing about it; he just chatted with her for a few minutes like usual before she paid her tab and hailed a cab to take her home.

Unfortunately, the alcohol in her system wasn’t nearly enough to prepare her for what she saw when she unlocked the door and walked inside her place.

“Uhmm, excuse me,” Buffy started, more than a little perturbed. “But what are you doing here?” She was staring at none other than MDIG’s biggest known slut, standing in her kitchen getting herself a glass of water, wearing nothing but one of Spike’s shirts.

“Me? What about you?” she asked, just as shocked as Buffy before her eyes went wide at a certain thought. “I don’t do threesomes unless its boy, boy, girl. Or Charlize Theron.”

“I happen to live here. And ewww!”

“Oh. Ahhh, are you and Spike, like, together? Cuz I swear I had no idea.”

“No! God, no! A huge world of no to that question. We’re just roommates, that’s it and… I just didn’t expect…” Making a split second decision, she told her, “You know what, forget it. It’s no big deal. I just wasn’t aware he had… company. Don’t bother mentioning I was here, okay?”

“O-okay.” The blonde responded nervously.

“You, uhmm… enjoy yourself. I’m just gonna-” she pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “-go out for awhile so you can, you know…” After the girl nodded, Buffy picked her briefcase back up, gave her a forced smile and left.

~~~*~~~

During the cab ride she took back to Willy’s, Buffy couldn’t believe who she ran into… in her own apartment no less! No wonder Spike acted towards her the way he had. His radar had landed on the company’s chief ho-bag renowned by everyone as ‘spreads-her-legs-a-lot’.

Ewww! Just ewww! The woman was a-a tramp, and dumb with her cheap hair dye and-and... duh! Wasn’t that what men like Spike preferred? A big-boobed, blonde bimbo with no more brains than a blade of grass? Ughh! It was disgusting. She hoped he used a condom, or two, one over the other because if not he’d... then again, maybe a disease of the runny, pus-filled kind was just what he deserved.

Willy was stunned to see Buffy walking back inside his place a little while later and even more astonished when she ordered another glass of wine.

“You know I’m always happy to see you, Buffy, but… what’s up with the extra visit?” The way she exhaled and rolled her eyes told him whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“Let’s just say… I can’t go home right now.”

He watched her take two large swallows from her glass and ventured to ask the obvious. “The Brit, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, my offer is still good if you want him roughed up a bit.”

“I can do that on my own if it came down to it, but thanks anyway, Willy.”

“No offense, but… why do you let him get to you? I mean, I’ve never seen you get riled up over much of anything, let alone a…” It was then that what she’d said a second ago registered. “Did you say you can’t go home?”

“Yup. That’s what I said.” Seeing his confused expression, she sighed heavily. “It’s a… long story.” She hadn’t told him about her living arrangements; it was pretty much a secret to everyone, er, except for Spike’s ‘houseguest’.

He shrugged like it didn’t matter to him. “I got all night if you wanna talk?”

What the hell, she thought. This was Willy and she trusted him.

Several hours and quite a few glasses of wine later…

“He’s a-a pretentious, self-indulgent, self centered… the epitome of Freud’s ‘id’, yeah, that’s what he is. Oh, and did I tell you he happens to be a genius?” she asked, setting her glass down after finishing it.

“Doesn’t sound like a very smart guy to me.”

“That’s just it. IQ-wise he’s considered a super genius, but he’s sooooo stupid and…”

Willy listened with amusement as Buffy continued her drunken rant. Being a bartender, he’d spent years not only listening to people’s problems, but ‘hearing’ them, ‘reading’ what was really going on behind the stories they told him. Buffy had literally spilled her guts, gave him a detail by detail account of her everyday life with Spike. Poor kid. Whether or not she liked it, she had it bad for the guy and even worse, didn’t realize it or refused to. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell her though, oh no. And if his intuition served him correct, that loser of an Englishman liked her, too. Despite the guy’s crude ways, which he hated to see Buffy have to put up with, all the signs were there in the other things this Spike character said and did for her. It’d be interesting to see what happened over time with these two, though he placed his money on it not ending well… for either of them.

When Buffy noticed how late it was, she paid Willy and said she hoped the skank wouldn’t be there by the time she got home. As drunk as she was, he insisted on driving her home himself rather than have her take a cab and that he’d walk her to her door as well. She started to protest, but he argued that in this city - and in her condition - he’d feel better knowing she got directly to her place safely. So he quickly told one of his employees to man the bar until he got back and proceeded to help walk an unsteady Buffy out to his car.

Buffy let Willy follow her into her apartment and politely thanked him for seeing her home. Of course the other reason Willy went in was to assure Spike wasn’t up and no arguments could take place in case said skank was there. When the coast seemed clear, he bid her goodnight and went on his way.

Buffy staggered down the hallway towards her bedroom, banging into the wall a couple of times loud enough to alert Spike to her presence. When he came out of his room to check on her, he was surprised to see her so tipsy, and when he offered to help her to her room, became perplexed when she barked slurred obscenities at him to leave her the hell alone.

Don’t throw stones at me please, I’ve always said Spike had a lot of growing up to do and he’d make mistakes along the way, but he will learn……………… eventually. And as promised – nothing graphic, cuz ewww!!! Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter despite Spike’s extra curricular activities. Next chapter, he’ll get his comeuppance – boy, will he ever!!! And it will make you’ll feel better – I know it did me when I wrote it, *snickers*. Till next time, have a fab week – hugs you all.

Saturday morning………

Hangover or not, Buffy intentionally woke up early in hopes of avoiding Spike. She didn’t want to see his stupid face or the look that was sure to be there… an egotistical, self-satisfied smirk from his sexual exploits last night. What she needed right now was an outlet for the overabundance of energy running through her agitated nerves. So she brushed her teeth, threw her hair into a ponytail and hurriedly dressed in her work out clothes.

With a sweat jacket draped over her arm and a duffle bag hanging from her shoulder, she walked into the living room and almost groaned aloud when she saw that luck was not on her side today.

At the soft sound of feet padding towards the kitchen, Spike looked up from his newspaper, stuck in a conflict between shock and arousal as Buffy bent over to tie her shoelace, her delectable arse staring him in the face. Well there goes gettin’ her outta your system! He had to shake his head to clear it, not exactly happy with his realization. “Where do you think you’re goin?”

“To the gym if you must know.” She stood straight, plopped her things on the counter, made herself a small cup of coffee and downed it while standing by the sink.

Well someone got up on the wrong side of the bed! If the snotty look she gave him wasn’t enough, the snippy way she answered him did. “Not dressed like that, you’re not,” he admonished in a serious tone. She suddenly whipped her head in his direction so fast he swore he heard her neck crack.

“Excuse me?” Planting a hand on her hip, she asked, “What’s wrong with the way I look?”

Absolutely nothing in his opinion, but she better cover up unless her plan was to have every bloke in the facility hard as nails. The smooth expanse of her tanned legs were bare for all to see from the edge of the ‘ultra short’ lycra shorts she donned which she’d incidentally rolled the waistband down dangerously low on her curvy hips. He mentally salivated at the sight of her toned tummy and button-like navel that was just right for sticking his tongue in. And that sports-bra? He physically wiped his lip of the invisible drool he swore was there. The tiny bit of fabric was more like a fancy corset out of some naughty catalogue with its intricate array of thin straps crisscrossing everywhere to hug her full, pert breasts, the dusk of her nipples visibly outlined beneath the pale pink material. She bore more skin than clothes with her warm, shapely body all supple, flexible, exquisite, inviting and... Okay, he’d seen his share of women in those kinds of clothes plenty of times, appreciated it immensely, but this was different, this was Buffy.

“Tha’s hardly dressed, pet.”

“For your information, this is fashionably acceptable and what most women normally wear to the gym.” Besides, she had her sweatpants in her bag still yet to put on before going out into the cold. Not that she was going to tell him that, though.

Really? He should seriously consider getting a membership, he thought. “You’re beggin’ for the wrong kind of attention.”

Picking her sweat-jacket up, she wrapped the arms around her waist, preparing to tie it. The sooner she got out of here, the better.

The bint was purposefully ignoring him, but he was more worried over how she wouldn’t be ignored. He got up, walked over, grabbed one sleeve from her hand and yanked the coat away from her.

“Hey! What’s your problem?”

“My problem `s that you don’ listen too good. You need to put somethin’ decent on.” Well there was a first! He never thought he’d hear himself say that to a girl.

“I don’t have time for this, Spike.” She held out her hand but he shook his head ‘no’, making her mad as hell.

“Make time.”

Now he was really starting to piss her off. “Give it back.” The world wouldn’t miss him if she were to, ohhhh, say lure him out onto the balcony and shove him over it? Nah. He wasn’t worth going to jail over.

“No.”

“Don’t make me hurt you.” Because she really, really wanted to. He was steadily pushing her patience to the limit and she had little to begin where he was concerned.

“Pfft! As if,” he sing-songed in his best ‘Buffy voice’.

“You were warned.” What she could do was knock him out... cold.

In a surprising move, she threw a perfect punch towards his face. Lucky for him, his quick reflexive block caught her fist centimeters before impact. “What the...”

“Karate,” she stated proudly at his wide-eyed stare but had to maneuver quickly to avoid the bending motion he attempted on her wrist to subdue her with.

Pleased that it was her turn to be surprised, he gave her a curt nod. “Jujitsu.”

“Oooo,” she drawled, tasting the victory that would soon be hers. “This is so on.” She took a step back, placed herself in an offensive stance while he just stood there all relaxed-like and smirked at her.

“Mmmmm.” Oddly enough, this was turning him on. A half naked Buffy ready to fight him? Oh yeah, especially because it was her. “`M always in the mood for a bit of rough and tumble, luv.” Whoa! Her tiny limbs flew at him with a speed he hadn’t imagined she possessed.

And so it began.

Spike remained on the defensive, choosing to let Buffy take any shot she wanted whether with fist or foot. He had no intention of hitting or hurting her, content to wait until she let down her guard so he could squeeze in a grappling move, bring her to the floor where he’d have the advantage. He had to hand it to her though as he rubbed the arm he used to thwart most of her strikes with... she was pretty good, but bound to get sloppy as she tired.

“You fight almost as well as a man, pet.”

“That’s funny.” She aimed her shin at his side, satisfied she landed the blow though he braced for it properly. “I was just about to say the same to you.”

She created a vulnerable gap when extending her arm so he ducked, rushed her torso and used the momentum to tackle her to the carpet. Three complete rollovers in a pursuit for dominance later and he ended up on top, panting for his efforts, a knee on either side of her hips. “Did I mention-” He struggled to capture her flailing limbs. “-I took wrestling-” Bloody hell she was squirming like crazy. “-too?”

“Erghh!” she cried in frustration as he got hold of her wrist. In a twisting motion, she rotated her elbow in a counter-clockwise pattern, continuing to loop around his repeated tries to get a firm grasp on her.

“Squirrelly li’l thing, aren’ ya?” If he could work a bottle of oil into this scenario it’d be a bloody fantasy come true.

When she tried to buck him off, he seized her biceps. Knowing he was stronger than her, she rocked her body from left to right, again and again until she was able to gain enough leverage through the repetitive action to roll him over.

“So you like bein’ on top then, yeah, pet?” She’d bloody well kill him right now if she knew he let her do that. He smirked, he couldn’t help himself. She was forced to straddle his thighs... just like he wanted. Christ, but she had him so hard for her, wriggling against his bits like that.

“You’re a pig, Spike.” He still had hold of her arms and when she tried to get up, he hauled her back down harshly to land right on his oh-my-God! What the hell was she doing? She was on... the... floor! With her boss - of all people - in a tangle of body parts. And even worse, he was clearly enjoying it. In her pause of panic, he’d flipped her over, slid his hands upwards to restrain her wrists above her head.

“Oink, oink, baby,” he purred in her ear. She had him excited like no other woman before with her pretty face flushed in a vibrant shade of anger... glorious, silky hair coming loose... deliciously pebbled tits just begging for his mouth... He didn’t know what had her so mad with him but she wore it well. If he ever figured it out, he vowed to do it again. She was a beautiful, magnificent heaving mess and his desire swelled painfully against the metal of his zipper. “You don’ really want to leave,” his steamy voice almost pleaded as he ground his erection against her warm center. “Do you?” He was frantic with need, desperate for her, could practically feel his shaft sliding in and out of her hot, tight little body as he rocked his hips against hers. “Make you feel so good, baby… I promise. Bring you pleasure you couldn’ even begin to imagine. Say yes… and stay with me.”

“Get! Off!” she commanded furiously.

“I’d love to.” He ached to do so. He slowly lowered his head, intent on capturing her lips, aroused to the point of distraction.

Fueled by pure rage, a burst of adrenalin surged through her body and she flipped them back over, broke his hold and leapt nimbly to her feet. She stomped into the kitchen, snatched up her things, strode towards the door and opened it before turning back to see him lying on the floor, propped up by an elbow on his side, panting as he stared after her.

“And by the way. The next time you feel the urge to fuck somebody in our apartment... don’t!!! Take it somewhere else,” she gritted out.

He jumped when she slammed the door. Well, well, well. So that was it. She was angry, no, jealous over Harmony being here yesterday. Interestin’. He wouldn’t have bothered to hide it from her had she been home but... hold on jus’ a bloody minute. If memory served correct, he’d kicked Harmony out the minute their fun was through and Buffy wasn’t even home then. Hadn’t come home `til late... very late and pissing drunk, too. But... she had to have stopped by earlier in the evening and overheard them. It was the only way she could have known and then... ohhhh. An evil smile curled his lips. She went out and got herself tipsy out of jealousy. Okay, he’d behave, be a good boy, wouldn’t go bringing any more women back here just to get Buffy so beautifully riled up like she was this morning. But knowing that she was jealous... over him... very interestin’.

~~~*~~~

Spike decided it best to give Buffy the space she seemed to want when she came back from the gym. He could tell how upset she still was with him, the negative energy emanating from her was that palpable. So he sat on the couch reading quietly, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction over the revelation he had before she left and in addition, had come to terms with the reality that until he ‘had’ her, he’d continue to ‘want’ her. It was a bitter pill to swallow as he mulled it over in his mind while she was gone, but in the end, he attributed it to the fact she was the only woman who’d ever posed him a challenge.

William Giles was used to getting whatever he wanted, all his life, no matter what it was. And he chose to see this situation with Buffy as a good thing, that she would be his first lesson in patience, and persistence.

She showered and didn’t say a word when she came out afterwards to make herself lunch, which didn’t surprise him. What he found amusing was that she took her food back into her room to eat rather than sit at the table… so there was no chance of them having any form of conversation. Yes, very amusing, but it also left him feeling lonely as hell. He’d grown used to their interaction as a result of living together. Everything from the chats they had to sharing dinner, the bathroom, bloody hell, even saying goodnight, and now, now he had to find a way to keep himself busy while she gave him the silent treatment.

This went on all day. The only time she came out to sit in the living room was to watch her pre-recorded show Blood Ties when she saw he was in the hot tub. It wouldn’t have bothered him, but when the bint literally locked the door to the balcony so he couldn’t come in until she was through that really grated on his nerves. And she never once looked at him, both when she locked and unlocked it.

She avoided him by hiding out in her room unless she had to use the bathroom or wanted something to eat and by six o’clock, he’d had enough because, well, patience wasn’t something he possessed yet despite his vow to cultivate some. He tried to talk to her when she came out for dinner, offering her what he’d made for both of them, hoping she’d cave, but she treated him as if he were a ghost and went about getting herself something entirely different before heading back to her room, ‘slamming’ the door shut to be sure he knew her mood hadn’t changed.

Walking down the hall, he decided to approach her with a different tactic instead of what he truly wanted to say which was, ‘What? You don’ want the goods, but no one else can touch `em either?’ But he refrained, and no matter what he said or how hard he tried to coax her with sweet words to come out and at least talk to him, silence was the only thing that met his pleas. So he resolved himself to ignore her, too by watching some telly, reasoning she’d have to cool down by evening’s end, right?

Wrong!

She came out two hours later, wearing her pajamas while fixing herself a cup of tea which told him she was planning on going to sleep soon. Figuring enough was enough and this had gone on for too bloody long already, he followed her down the hall and even tried to bar her entrance to her bedroom. That, however, earned him a lightening quick move on her part without ever spilling her tea that sent him landing on the flat of his back and groaning as she once again slammed the door.

Beyond irritated, he got right back up and began pounding on her door… for thirty minutes straight, demanding she talk to him even if only through the wood. When that didn’t work, he rattled the knob but naturally, she’d locked it. She was like a sulking child; her annoying, petulant behavior having him at his wits’ end. If she intended to make him feel guilty it worked, much to his dismay. And even though he was furious he should feel any guilt at all over doing nothing wrong, he couldn’t help it. He wanted them back on talking terms, needed it because he couldn’t stand the thought of going through this again tomorrow or worse, having to work side by side with her with nothing but strict business talk between them.

Tonight, however, he conceded defeat, having no other choice but to wait and see what tomorrow would bring. And as he lay in his own bed an hour later, he thought long and hard, trying to come up with something different he could either do or say to earn her attention long enough to bring about some kind of truce.

~~~*~~~

Sunday………

Before Buffy even got out of bed, she thought about her behavior towards Spike yesterday. Yeah, she’d acted childishly, but he’d gone and made her so damn mad she couldn’t help but retaliate. Here she’d stayed at work to finish something for him while he left early to go home and have himself a ‘good time’. Not that she cared what he’d done, it was the where that bothered her. Okay, and maybe who he ‘did’ irritated her a little bit as well. But he was still new to MDIG, so he couldn’t have known the girl’s reputation, could he? Still, that was no excuse.

The man had no respect for her. Not for her things, not for her as a woman and certainly not for the dwelling they shared that she was paying half for. How could he bring Harmony Kendall - of all people - home to boink and not at least warn her? She could have walked in on God knows what and been blinded for life. This was her place, too. How would he feel if she’d brought a man to their apartment to have sex with? Probably would’ve cheered me on, she thought when remembering his comment, ‘you gonna let it sit around and rot?’

On one hand, she knew she’d gone overboard by avoiding him completely, but on the other, he deserved it, needed to get the message pounded past all that bleach that obviously clouded his judgment. It wasn’t like she cared about him or who he slept with. Nope, not at all. She was only trying to make a point without having to say a word. Sometimes it was better not to say anything rather than engage in a verbal fight. But of course they got into it anyway before she even left for the gym and the things he’d said, done, tried to do… Wasn’t it enough he got laid the night before and yet he was still after her? She chuckled to herself, thinking evilly that maybe Harmony isn’t as good as she thinks!

She hated the way Spike had left her feeling almost… ‘dirty’ with the way he came on to her. Grinding his erection against her, making her body burn hot against its will, how he made those nasty things he’d purred in her ear sound so good, the way he pleaded for her to stay with a husky-voiced promise of pure pleasure. She shivered at the mere thought. As much as she didn’t want to think about it, she was fairly positive he was capable of delivering that promise… and then some.

She shivered again before throwing the covers off her and getting out of bed. Today was a new day and hopefully he’d had enough time to think about things. She was still mad, but she was willing to talk if he was. Ground rules needed to be made no matter how long they were going to live together and the sooner they made them, the better off they’d be.

~~~*~~~

By the time Spike came into the kitchen to stand behind Buffy, she’d just finished stirring her coffee and laid the spoon down. She stood there for a few seconds, staring at it and he wondered what she was thinking, wondered if maybe… Slowly, he reached a hand out and touched her shoulder.

“Eeeeep!” she screamed, never having heard him enter the room and whipped around to find him backing away from her with wide eyes, his hands held up in defense.

“`M sorry. I didn’ mean to scare you.”

With her hand over her heart and eyes closed, she was breathing hard and trying to collect herself to speak. Shaking her head, she finally managed to say, “I just didn’t hear you, didn’t know you were there.”

“Sorry.”

She watched him put his hands in his front pockets, a remorseful look on his face as he lowered it.

“I was wonderin’ if… if we could maybe… talk?”

Again she closed her eyes, but this time to avoid seeing the boyish pout that always got to her. “Yeah, I think maybe we should.”

Thank God! The relief that washed through him was immeasurable. He didn’t think he could take another day of her silent treatment. “You wanna sit here or-” he pointed at the table then in the opposite direct. “-in the living room?”

“Why don’t you grab some coffee and we’ll talk here.” Moving towards the table, she felt it was safer to be sitting across from him rather than next to him. That way she could stare him dead in the eye and there was no chance of him touching her.

“Buffy…” He sat down and faced her, not even sure why he was feeling as nervous as he was. “`M… uhmm, I not sure how to say this, but…”

Feeling a sudden swell of confidence and calm at the same time, she tried to say what she was hoping he thought. “Spike. We need to set some ground rules if we’re going to live together and get along.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right.”

She stated her case about privacy, about how he didn’t belong in her room or rummaging through her things and that it worked the other way around as well. He nodded his agreement and then she finally came to the main issue that needed resolving. “Look, I may have reacted poorly, behaved badly yesterday and I apologize for it. But you have to understand we share this place and you can’t just… do what you did without giving me some kind of warning. I mean what if you’d walked in on me and some other guy having… well, you know.” It would never happen, but she wanted him to ‘get it’ by giving him the reverse scenario.

I’d bloody well kill the bastard, rip his fuc… He stopped himself mid-thought, had to remember… she wasn’t his. Deep down, he knew she could sleep with whomever she wanted and there was nothing he could rightfully say about it. She’d just placed him in her shoes and though he didn’t like it at all, he grasped the concept with perfect clarity. “So no bringin’ people back to the apartment.”

“Not to sleep with them. It’s just as easy for either of us to go somewhere else. If I’m tired and want to go to bed early, I don’t want to hear… those kinds of noises disturbing my sleep. So…” She put her hands on the table and leaned forward. “Do we understand each other now, Mr. Giles?”

“Yes,” he said with no edge to his voice whatsoever. When she stood, he reached out to take her hand, asking her with hope in his eyes, “So, are we good?”

Snatching her hand back, her features turned hard. “I’m still… upset. I mean Harmony Kendall?” she nearly shrieked. “You can count on one hand the number of employees she hasn’t slept with. If you get a disease from this, don’t come crying to me.”

Admittedly he was surprised she was still upset, especially after their talk. But he couldn’t help asking the one question he already knew the answer to no matter how much she may deny it. “Are you jealous, pet?”

“Of Harmony? Puleez! Yeah, my goal is to be like her, a public toilet, something everybody’s used.” Rolling her eyes at him in disgust, she took her cup to the sink to rinse it out.

“Tha’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“And again… puleez with a healthy side of ego much? You seriously need professional help with this narcissistic complex of yours.”

He got up to stand right behind her, placing his hands gently on both her shoulders. “`S okay,” he whispered in her ear. “Lie to me all you want, kitten. In my eyes, she’s doesn’ hold a candle to you.” Kissing her chastely on the temple, he left her with that thought.

But he still slept with her. Well, he did try to sleep with me, too. Jealous? Nope. No way. So why did it bother her so much?

With their rules agreed upon, the day progressed. To Spike’s disappointment, however, Buffy was cordial but not friendly towards him. Seemed he still had some ‘making up’ to do and his efforts to get on her good side by saying Harmony had nothing on her didn’t work. Stubborn chit. He rebelled against the idea that he owed it to her, but his thoughts disregarded him completely, focusing all day on how to rectify things, choosing to rationalize it was because he… because he simply wanted her.

Next chapter they do completely make up, however, there’s people they both meet and as a result, tempers and jealousy flare anew. Hope everyone enjoyed the update and have a great weekend – hugs you all tight.

Monday………

Upon arriving at work, Spike headed straight for the break room while Buffy walked into their office to drop her briefcase and coat off. By the time she went to get her own mug of java, she stopped in the doorway to see Spike standing in close proximity to a leggy brunette who had her back to Buffy.

At first she felt that familiar tug of annoyance she’d held for Spike all weekend resurface but quickly squashed it down. After all, what did she care if he was smiling flirtatiously as he chatted away with the woman? Judging from their hushed conversation, the brown haired girl’s tiny giggles and the fact she handed him a small piece of paper which he casually slid into his pants’ front pocket, well, it was pretty clear what he was doing.

Buffy cleared her throat to alert them to her presence then strode towards the coffeemaker, noticing the other woman stand up straighter as if caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to, saying ‘I’ll see you later’ to Spike before leaving the room.

As Spike turned his attention back to grabbing some sugar and a spoon, Buffy couldn’t keep herself from making a snide comment. “So, I see brunette is the flavor for this week.” When his gaze landed on her, he had the gall to rake his eyes heatedly up and down her body in open appreciation before his sultry tone filled her ears.

“Gentlemen prefer blondes.”

Pig! “Brunette it is then... since you’re no gentleman.” She slammed the mini-fridge door shut and strolled towards the door, stopping dead in her tracks when he questioned her.

“Envious pet?” Turning around and walking back towards him, she confidently positioned herself right in his personal space, making him - for once – a might bit nervous.

“You so wish.”

Boy was her answer ever so calm it was eerie, but he wanted to have the last word in this conversation. “Le’s say, for the sake `f argument, that you were… what would you do?” Shrugging, she answered him as if bored.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“Really,” he stated as if unconvinced. “And why’s that?”

“Because that’s what you are to me, Spike. Absolutely nothing.”

And there went having the last word as the object of his infatuation exited the room, leaving him speechless and – surprisingly – feeling genuinely wounded… on a personal level.

Spike suspected that this morning would have gone pretty much like Sunday had, with Buffy being courteous but far from talkative. Except now she was back to ‘business only’. The incident with the brunette apparently brought back the green eyed monster in his girl and reaffirmed his belief that she wanted him. Happy as he should be, her spiteful assessment of what he was to her left a lasting sting and an even stronger desire to get back on her good graces.

Unlike other women he’d known who made an effort to get his attention focused back on them, jealousy seemed to have the reverse effect on Buffy, making her shut down tight and be verbally malicious when goaded. Tha’s jus’ it, mate. She’s not like other women you’ve known… or gone after. He felt like a right git, having forgotten that fact, and as it sunk in - really sunk in - it had a significant impact on him.

Like her hot and cold moods, she had a tendency to see things as either black or white, but… however rare or few, she did have moments where she hung out in the grey. Perhaps if he concentrated on that, capitalized on the hazy middle when it was present, he just might stand a chance with her.

Once lunch time rolled around, Buffy grabbed her purse and coat, saying she’d be back in an hour.

On the elevator ride down to the ground floor, it stopped midway to let more people on. Only it was just one person, one Angel O’Connor with his suit-jacket slung casually over his shoulder by two fingers, wearing a blank expression. As soon as he saw her, however, his face instantly brightened.

“Nice to see you again, Buffy. How’re you?”

“Same old, same old I suppose. And you?”

“Couldn’t be better, thanks. You-ahhh… going to lunch?”

“Yup.” She rocked on her heels, feeling a little uneasy. Not in a bad way, more like how she felt around Spike whenever they were alone and physically close and ughh, I shouldn’t even be making that comparison. But she had to admit Angel was a handsome guy with those chocolate brown eyes, boyish grin and wow but he had some serious muscles going on with those broad shoulders, wide chest, barreled biceps bulging beneath his white dress shirt. It was a shame she had to tell him no to having lunch when she first met him.

After a few seconds of silence, he decided to try his luck again. “Is there… any way I could maybe… change your mind about going to lunch with me?”

With a half smile, she shook her head in the negative. “Sorry. It really isn’t personal, believe me. It’s just a rule I have. I don’t do lunch with any of the men who work here.” He sighed dejectedly and looked down at his shoes in a gesture that seemed somewhat ‘practiced’. Relax, she told herself. Not everyone is as sly and manipulative as Spike. When he finally raised his eyes back to hers with a sad look in them, he asked her a question in a soft, even tone.

“Would it make a difference if I told you I was a lesbian?”

“Wh-what?” The wink and subsequent smirk he threw her made her start to chuckle. She definitely didn’t see that one coming or imagined she’d actually find what he said so funny.

“I’m just trapped in a man’s body. A true tragedy if you ask me.” Oh yeah, now he had her doubling over. Kill them with comedy and they just might let you in… for the kill.

Buffy was wiping her eyes they were watering so badly from laughing. When she was finally able to compose herself, she put a hand on her hip and tilted her head to study him for a minute. “I still stand by my rule, buuuuuut……… I might say yes to dinner.” She could scarcely believe herself when she actually said it. But he was cute and funny and, well, she was nine years overdue for a date and dinner was innocent enough, right?

“Well then, Miss Buffy Summers-” he coughed nervously. “-may I take you to dinner tonight?”

Quirking an eyebrow, she asked, “And why tonight?”

“So you don’t have a chance to change your mind?”

The shy, boyish smile as he looked down and shifted his feet like an anxious teenager made her grin. It was refreshing to see someone as good looking as he was acting so fragile while awaiting her answer. “I guess that would be alright.” His head shot up in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Th-that’s wonderful, I… What time can I pick you up? Oh-er, I’m sorry, that was too forward of me. You’d probably rather meet me somewhere… am I right?” Though I might have to insist on driving you back to the office in the morning… just to show Spike I had you first! Just picturing the young buck’s face when he saw them arrive together was enough to make this more than worthwhile, aside from the sex of course.

Yup, definitely a shy guy underneath it all. “It’s fine. I’ll give you my address and you can pick me up. Is seven a good time?” She pulled out her business card and pen to begin writing on the back of it.

“S-seven is fine, perfect.” He took her card just as the doors opened to the lobby. Letting her out first, he gave her a little wave and she smiled back at him before going her own way.

As she tucked her pen back in her purse, the one Spike had given her; she had to stifle a small giggle when thinking of him. When she first met Angel, it hadn’t escaped her notice that Spike didn’t seem to care for him at all. But she didn’t even think about it when giving Angel her address. It would be interesting to see how Spike reacted when she told him… no, it was probably best not to tell him. It was none of his business anyhow and it wasn’t like they were on speaking terms at the moment. And I guess he’ll figure it out when Angel shows up to get me anyway.

A twinge of anxiety suddenly gripped her chest. What if she’d just made a bad decision? True, she hadn’t exactly broken her rule, but having dinner with a guy from the same company she worked for made it feel like a fine line she shouldn’t be crossing. The last thing she needed was for things to go well with Angel for some time and then if something happened - and things eventually went sour, well… I’ll talk to Cordy when I get back. She was much better at the whole dating thing plus she missed talking to her since Spike had moved her into his office.

~~~*~~~

As soon as Buffy got back from lunch and found Cordelia, she dragged her into the ladies room, checked for any feet under the stalls then locked the door once she was sure they were alone. She paced back and forth, explaining her ‘ordeal’ while Cordy primped, freshening her makeup as if not even listening. By the time Buffy finished, her friend turned to face her, a sarcastic look on her face to accompany her response.

“Not seeing a problem here, Buffy. I mean hello? He’s totally hot and you’re… well, not hotter than me but I say go for it. You can’t worry over something that hasn’t happened and really, it’s just dinner, it’s not like you’re marrying the guy.”

“You think?”

“I don’t think, Buffy, I’m Cordelia Chase, I know. And if he happens to be the one, just think of the diamond you’ll get out of the deal. I mean, he’s rich, smart, handsome and did I mention rich?”

“I don’t care about that sort of thing.” Cordy looked at her as if she’d grown a third eye.

“Then feel free to toss him my way because you can’t live off how much a man makes you laugh.”

Buffy chuckled at that. Leave it to Cordy to think in terms of her purse. “Okay-okay, I’ll go.”

“Good,” she chirped. “And afterwards you can tell me just how big his-”

“Please, oh please do not finish that sentence.” She rolled her eyes in disgust.

“Jeez, I was going to say bank account, thank you very much. God! Anyway, stop being such a stranger and do let me know how it goes. Oh! And please be sure to wear something from Versace. You can never go wrong there. Remember, you’re going out with a rich, sophisticated man, not Peter Parker from Accounting.”

“Versace. Got it.” Then Buffy got to thinking. “You wouldn’t wanna, maybe, go shopping with me after work, would you?” Cordelia’s face instantly brightened at the idea. “We haven’t really talked in a while, and… well, there’s something I-I, really sorta-kinda need to share with you. A woman to woman thing. In total confidence,” she added to convey the gravity of her message.

“Oooooooo, do I smell juicy gossip coupled with spending? I am so there. Five PM sharp, you come get me and we’re leaving together for Saks.”

~~~*~~~

Fortunately for Spike, during his lunch break, he passed by a shop that gave him an idea to make amends with Buffy. After making a quick purchase, he went straight back to the office, waiting for her to return. When she did, he could only hope her penchant for chocolate would buy him enough of her attention to say what he had to say and set things right.

“Buffy, I, uhmm…” He watched her take her coat off and sit down, all while casting him a weary glance as if to say ‘here we go again’.

“What is it, Mr. Giles?”

So we’re back to that now, are we? Ignoring her sarcasm and formality, he leaned over from his chair to set the small box on her desk and pushed it with one finger so it was in front of her.

“`S for you.”

Without even looking at him, she opened it to reveal the gourmet sweets inside. “Look, I appreciate the gesture, but can we skip past the bullshit and have you tell me what it is you really want?” Besides, she would have thought he’d figured it out by now that she couldn’t be bought!

“For God’s sake, woman. `S chocolate, not a bloody diamond!” She really irked him sometimes, but he tried to control his anger for the sake of achieving his goal. “Fine,” he huffed. If she wanted it that way, then he’d give it to her straight. “I really am very sorry for what happened on Friday. I never meant to upset you, honestly. I jus’… I can’ stand you actin’ the way you have… with all the bloody ‘Mr. Giles’ shite and… I want us talkin’ again. Like we usually do.” He considered saying ‘please’, but he wasn’t going to beg, he had his pride after all.

As she watched him stumble through his apology and fight the temper she knew was brimming beneath his exterior, she smiled. It was obvious he couldn’t take it when someone was angry at him or gave him the cold shoulder. Just like a little kid.

“`S all my fault, I admit it, but I didn’ disrespect you on purpose, I’ve jus’… I’ve jus’ been on my own for so long that `m not used to thinkin’ `bout how my actions affect others. I swear to-”

"You know what?” she interrupted him. “Forget about it, Spike. You have your life and I have mine. We laid the ground rules for living together and that's what's important."

“Yes, yes we did. So can we drop the Mr. Giles crap and-and… get back to normal? Me Spike, you Buffy?” he asked, pointing a finger between them.

She almost laughed at the caveman like statement, but suppressed it. Picking up a white chocolate decorated with red liquid drizzled in a zigzag pattern, she popped it into her mouth and nodded. “Okay. Back to normalsville… Spike.” She gave him a half smile when his shoulders visibly slumped with relief.

Thank God. If she wasn’t being so bloody stubborn about what happened, he’d love to spoil her rotten, take her away from work, spend the day at MarieBelle's in SoHo and personally hand feed her each and every treat they had to offer. Then again, feeding her… with his fingers… so close to her mouth? He had to adjust himself when his cock responded a little too eagerly to the image. Probably not the best of ideas, mate.

~~~*~~~

Cordelia made quick work of their shopping for Buffy, being the fashion expert she was, and in the meantime received an earful about her friend’s living arrangements with Spike and all the things he’d said and done to her.

“How is it you have not one but two gorgeous rich guys after you, with swoon-worthy accents I might add, and I have none?” she whined. “I mean, I’m all with the hotliness here and yet the only attention I’ve gotten so far this week came from the mail boy and some dweeb from the Finance department. This is so unfair. What do you have that I don’t?”

Buffy knew what she wanted to answer her with, but refrained, realizing it wouldn’t be in her best interest if she wanted to get any advice. “I don’t know what to say other than I never asked for any of it.”

“Well, if things don’t work out with Angel, you certainly have another hottie that’s ready to jump your bones and… now that I think about it, why haven’t you yet?”

“Uhmm, maybe because he’s my boss and my roommate? I don’t need the kind of daily uncomfortable-ness that would result from having a one night stand with Spike.” Despite their friendship, she’d never told Cordy of her embarrassing past, romance-wise.

“Excuse me? What makes you think that’s all he wants?”

“I don’t know what you mean, other than I’m sure he wouldn’t mind using me when it’s convenient or he can’t score somewhere else.”

“You are waaaaaaay more clueless than even I gave you credit for.” She rolled her eyes at her friend’s foolishness.

“Ah, be kind, rewind?” What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“From everything you’ve told me, that’s not all he wants from you. It might appear that way, but not to me.” And apparently even he doesn’t see it either.

“Huh?”

“You’re blind, Buffy, and you forget I know you. You only see what you want to see and I am so not going to be the one to tell you because all you’ll do is deny it.”

“Cryptic much?” But Cordy dropped the subject when her eyes landed on…

“Oh-my-God! Look at this dress! It’s perfect for the company ball coming up and this one here,” she pulled out a deep red colored evening gown. “This Vera Wang is so you. C’mon, we may as well get them both while we’re here. That will leave you with about an hour to get ready for your date.”

“Ughh, I really don’t want to go to the ball.”

“You have to. Your position alone requires that you do. Plus hey, good excuse to get all dressed up.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Like I said, I’m Cordelia Chase, I know things and I’m always right, too.”

~~~*~~~

Spike didn’t find it unusual that Buffy came home after he did, she almost always worked late. What he couldn’t understand was her dashing past him, several bags in her hands without so much as a ‘hi, I’m home’, especially since they were supposed to be back to ‘normalsville’ - as she’d so eloquently put it.

He heard the shower start running, also not a strange occurrence, but after fifty minutes, she still hadn’t come out. Shrugging her odd behavior off, he went into the kitchen to start dinner when he heard a knock on the door. Walking over to open it, his eyes went wide then narrowed into slits when seeing the last person he ever expected to be at his doorstep.

“William?” Angel asked in confusion.

“Angelus? What are you doin’ here, or more importantly, how did you find out where I live?”

“You live here?”

Twin expressions of bewilderment painted both men’s faces.

“Yeah, wha’s it to you, pillock?”

This was better than he ever expected, so much better. “I’m here for Buffy.” She never said anything about having a roommate, much less that it was Spike, but he supposed she’d explain it to him since it was obvious she wasn’t with him.

Spike’s brain went numb for a split second before his blood began boiling in his veins. No way was he going to allow her to leave until he’d had a talk with her about the ponce. Slamming the door in Angelus’ face, he turned around to go find Buffy, except she was already walking into the living room wearing a sexy black dress that clearly suggested she was going out.

“Was that Angel at the door?”

“Yeah, it is. You wanna explain to me why the bloody hell he’s here?”

“Jeez, attitude much? What does it look like he’s doing here?” She scowled at him, feeling like a victim of the Spanish inquisition with his interrogation.

“Judgin’ from your clothes, looks like you’re goin’ out with him and I thought one of our rules we agreed upon was never to bring a date here.”

“It is. And we’re not staying.” She approached the door and opened it with a smile. Angel opened his mouth to say something but Spike forced the door shut with another loud slam before the other man could utter a word.

“My God, Spike! Could you be any more rude?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, a frown marring her features. Good Lord, she was a grown woman after all, much older and wiser than he was.

“I don’ like this Buffy.” If she only knew who she was dealing with! To hell with that, he was going to tell her anyway.

“Good thing it doesn’t matter to me what you like. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She barely opened the door two inches when Spike forced it shut… again.

“Buffy! You-”

“Be right with you, Angel,” she interrupted Spike in a pleasant voice to reassure her date before wheeling on the platinum blond with fire in her eyes, hissing at him in a hushed tone, “What-is-your-problem?”

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he ignored her indignant huff and pulled her further away from the door to explain. “You don’ know Angelus like I do,” he started, his voice low and deadly serious. “His only goal is to get in your pants.”

“Oh, and yours isn’t?” Yeah, right! Angel had been nothing short of polite to her, unlike Spike.

“`M serious, Buffy. You have to trust me on this.”

“I’m only going to say this once, so pay close attention. Just like it’s not my business who you choose to whore around with, it’s none of your business who I date. And who said I was going to sleep with him, anyway?” Who did he think she was? Harmony? She scoffed inwardly. She was not that easy or to be quite frank, easy at all.

“Don’t. Sleep with him, that is. Jus’… don’, okay? Promise me. Please, Buffy?”

Wow, he genuinely seemed worried, but her anger overruled any reaction she may have had otherwise to the concern written on his face. “I’m a lady, Spike. I don’t sleep with men on the first date or even the fifth, so you can relax. Now if you don’t mind, I’m leaving.”

And what choice did he have but to let her go? He stared after her until she was out the door, cringing as he heard the low sound of the couple talking and then Angelus’ laughter slowly fading the further they walked away.

Spike paced the room back and forth, panic and anger blending in a maelstrom of other emotions he couldn’t define; his agitation too strong for him to stay still. She said she wouldn’t sleep with him and it should have made him feel better, but Angelus… Suffice to say the wanker had his ways, every man did, and his way was trickery. She’d never see it coming until it was too late.

After ten minutes of walking from the living room to the kitchen and back for what felt like the hundredth time, he knew he couldn’t sit still. He had to do something to occupy the time while she was gone. Oh, he’d be waiting up for her alright, but for now… for now… Going to his bedroom, he fished out a piece of folded paper from his work pants and grabbed his cell phone.

A good shag is what he needed right now, yeah, tha’s it. And making the pretty brunette he met this morning scream his name would definitely take his mind off Buffy.

Or so he thought.

Monday evening………

Upon being questioned about her living arrangements, Buffy gave Angel the shortened version of the story over dinner, earning her his sympathy and even an offer to help her find a place of her own. She just shook her head, saying she had her own plan in place but thanked him anyway.

Their date was a pleasant one with Angel being the perfect gentleman… polite, amiable, interested in everything she talked about and more than happy to answer questions directed at him. She avoided - despite her curiosity - asking him the reason why there seemed to be such animosity between him and Spike, figuring if it were important enough he’d bring it up himself, which he didn’t. That told her it must be something which existed only in Spike’s twisted sense of reality.

All in all, she had a surprisingly wonderful time and basked in the attention Angel paid her, adoring the occasional blush of shyness accompanied with that wonderful smile of his.

And while Angel was admittedly enjoying himself as well, it became obvious to him exactly what kind of girl Buffy was and how much work it was going to take to bed her. But the satisfaction he’d get from having bragging rights and being one up on William - given the fact he ‘lived’ with Buffy - would be like winning an Olympic gold medal on enemy turf and crowned the undisputed champion.

Like William, he wasn’t used to, nor liked, waiting around for a girl. But as he quickly calculated the cost analysis in his mind, he smiled… A few dinners at New York’s finest restaurants, twelve hundred dollars, some flowers for Valentine’s day, two hundred fifty, a gold Claddagh ring as a gesture of devotion, an easy grand, the chance to rub it in William’s face that he’d pounded his roommate into his mattress every time he saw him… priceless!!!

~~~*~~~

Spike spent less than two hours over at the brunette’s place and left the second he was through with her… disgusted with himself. He really thought it would make him feel better, that sex would provide him with the distraction he so desperately needed. But aside from his release, the pleasure had been all one sided… and it hadn’t been his.

All he could think about during the physical act itself was Buffy, and he chastised himself whenever he closed his eyes for picturing the blonde beneath him instead of the brown haired girl. It hadn’t worked out very well. The sound of her voice, the differences in her anatomy, her reactions… they were all wrong. Even if he didn’t know what Buffy was like in bed, he was positive it had to be ten times better than what he’d experienced tonight, just because it’d be her. And after coming back home, he couldn’t help but think what a waste of time it had been. Should’ve jus’ stayed home and had a good wank. At least whenever he did that while fantasizing about his roommate, his orgasms were that much harder, better, satisfying...

Now, here he sat on the couch, drumming his fingers agitatedly while trying to focus on the telly, feeling like a father who was waiting up for his little girl to come home to make sure her virtue hadn’t been sullied.

~~~*~~~

As Angel walked Buffy down the hall to her door, he slid into a coy mode when asking if he could take her out again, grinning when she said ‘yes’. They chatted for a bit, Angel making a few jokes before he was finally out of things to say. And as risky as he knew it was given the type of woman she was, he leaned forward to try for a goodnight kiss but she backed away, apologizing that she just wasn’t comfortable enough with him for that yet.

Spike heard them outside in the hallway, giggling away like a couple of teenagers, making him sick to his stomach. This went on for a number of minutes before he couldn’t stand it any longer. With his brain short circuited and his legs on auto-pilot, he marched to the door and flung it open, startling the couple.

“Spike,” Buffy gasped before expressing her annoyance. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Awwww, isn’t that sweet?” Angel feigned in a sugary tone. “I’m sure he’s just being protective of you, that’s all. And as you can see, I brought her back safely and in one piece.” Though he couldn’t resist shooting Spike an evil sneer from behind Buffy’s back.

“I don’t need any protecting. I happen to have a black belt that Spike can personally attest to,” she fumed, glaring at the platinum menace.

“Wow!” Angel responded with surprise. “Not only brains and beauty but brawn as well? Spike, my boy, you never told me what a true gem she is.”

“And now that you know… say goodnight,” he growled, grabbing Buffy’s arm and hauling her inside, slamming the door shut on Angelus before he could feed her another contrived line while giving Spike a look sure to earn the poofter a punch in the face Buffy wouldn’t appreciate being witness to.

“William Giles! Take your hand off me this instant!!! Who do you think you are, my father?”

“If I were your father, you’d find yourself over my knee right now.” Oh dear, that conjured up a slightly more perverse fantasy… spanking her bare arse red while she pleaded for ‘daddy’ to stop and make it better. He had to fight his body’s reaction to that particular scenario when imagining several cute little outfits she’d looked amazing in as he doled out her punishment right before he got to…

She yanked herself from out of his grip and got right in his face, her tone more menacing than a demon’s. “I don’t know what your problem is but rest assured you’ll be sorry if you ever do that again.”

“Again? Again?!?! Please tell me you’re not goin’ out with him a second time.”

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but yes, I am.” Backing away from him, she took her coat off and headed towards the hall, signaling this discussion was over. But did he stop his little tirade, was he through with her yet, would he let her walk away without giving her another piece of his mind?

Nope!

“Why, after nine soddin’ years do you suddenly decide to start datin’ again anyway?”

Turning around she answered him as best she could - with a half truth - so as not to infuriate him further by explaining how nice she found Angel, given Spike’s hatred for the man. “Well, I thought about our conversation when we were looking through my photo album and decided maybe it is time I got back out there. So what?” She threw her arms up in the air, not understanding why it was such a big deal to him. “I would think you’d be happy for me.”

“I would be happy if it were anyone but him.” Okay, that was a total bloody lie, but if the truth were to come out of his mouth, well… “Did you sleep with him?” Deep down he knew she couldn’t have, wouldn’t have, didn’t. But he had to know for certain, had to just in case, so that the next time he saw Angelus, the homicide he’d be committing would be justifiable.

“Uh,” she huffed. “I told you I wouldn’t. And as a matter of fact, I didn’t even allow him to kiss me goodnight when he tried.” Shit! Furious that she defended herself in the first place or answered him at all - and with that bit of extra information - when it was so not his business, she stomped angrily back to stand in front of him again, her agitated state getting the better of her as she raised her voice. “What’s wrong with Angel anyway, hmm?”

“Everything!” he shouted back.

“Pfft, like you’re perfect? I can smell the cheap perfume radiating off your clothes so don’t even act like you went out on a respectable date like I did.”

“`M still a better man than he is.”

“Oh, so I suppose I should be dating you then?” she laid the sarcasm on thick.

Exactly! Wait, no… he didn’t ‘date’.

She tilted her head as if deep in thought then came back at him with a seriously low blow. “At twenty three years of age you’re hardly a man and I’m so not into cradle robbing.”

“Oi! I’ll have you know I’ll be twenty four this March and you’re only six years olde-”

“Sorry, Spike, but there’s no substitution for the maturity gained through experience that comes with age. And right now? You’re acting more like a jealous sixteen year old.”

“Arghh!” He threw his head back to scream at the ceiling. “What the bleeding hell is wrong with you, woman? If you gave me chance, jus’ one chance I’d prove to you how much of a man I am.” He stepped in closer to her, a hair’s breath away from her face, lowering his voice in sharp contrast to his outburst but a second ago. “Jus’ ... give me somethin’ ... a crumb ... a barest smidgen ... tell me ... maybe someday, there's a chance.”

“Spike,” she whispered seductively, right before she leveled him with an icy glare. “The only chance you stood with me is when I was drunk and unconscious.”

He genuinely started chuckling in amusement and before long began a full out fit of hysterical laughter. This tipped the needle way past bizarre on her weird-o-meter, it was down right disturbing.

“Have you gone completely insane?” she asked, taking a few steps away from him. “Is this the part where you pull a knife and go all Norman Bates on me or something, cuz a little warning here would be nice.”

He shook his head, still laughing away while pointing at her and then back at himself until finally, Buffy couldn’t help but start giggling herself, unsure why, but the sound of it became infectious.

After calming down a bit, he finally admitted, “I would never take advantage of you drunk, pet. Never without obtainin’ your sober consent first, I swear. And as bloody frustratin’ as you are, I jus’ can’ be mad at you, don’ want you mad at me either.” He straightened himself up mentally, exhaling as he told her, “I was… worried. Tha’s all.”

“About what?”

How to put it without revealing too much, that was the task. “Angelus and I have… history. It ain’ pretty and I… I jus’ worry `bout you.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling nervous about confessing that he cared. “`S not a crime, is it?”

“No,” she sighed, pursing her lips. “No, I suppose it isn’t. But in the future, do you think you could make a little less with the ‘grrrr’? Cuz, kinda scary there.” After chuckling at her question, he gave her the softest smile she’d ever seen him wear as he tilted his head slightly to one side.

“Can’ make any promises other than I’ll try. But if he so much as mistreats a single blonde hair on your head…” he said seriously, not even wanting to finish that sentence.

“I suppose I should feel flattered that I have you to protect me. Or is it that you are jealous?”

And with no compunction whatsoever, he told her the truth… in a way. “You’re my roommate, my employee and can I help it that you also happen to be the most desirable woman I’ve ever met?”

She tried to shake off how stunned she was by what he’d just said, coming back at him with the first thing that popped into her mind. “You’re never going to quit, are you?”

“The truth?” He shook his head. “No.”

“What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sex?” And oh my God could I get anymore personal? But it was a good sign to see him actually contemplate the question. Not so good when he answered, however.

“Two weeks.” An incredulous look swept over her features. “A campin’ trip I took with a group of friends years ago. All men. So yeah, two weeks.” A disgusted expression quickly replaced her previous one. “What?”

“Ewww! You’re so-so... used.” His twisted laughter didn’t come as a shock. He didn’t even possess the decency to be insulted.

“Not used, luv. Experienced.”

“Ughh. You’re nothing more than damaged goods to me.”

Closing the distance between them, he curled his tongue behind his teeth, leering with self confidence. “But they’re goods nonetheless. Said so yourself.” He passed a hand slowly down his abdomen to rest on his groin, fingers spread wide.

“Whatever.” God, she hated it when he came so near to her, when he touched himself like that, when he made those unbelievably sexy expressions, when his voice took on that low, seductive tone that was his and his alone, rendering her body immobile as if by magic... And didn’t he deepen the spell by leaning in to brush his lips against the shell of her ear, purring as he spoke?

“Bet I could make you scream.”

That snapped her out of it and she swiftly pulled back in order to face him eye to eye. “Right before I run maybe.” His smirk infuriated her but that took a backseat to panic when he cupped her chin and brought his lips within millimeters of hers.

“I must confess, pet.” With his other hand, he brushed the backs of his knuckles down her cheek, pleased when she closed her eyes against the intimate touch. “I love the chase you’re givin’ me.” Lifting her lids, she slowly leaned towards him, closer, glancing back and forth between his lips and eyes, making his cock impossibly hard. He tilted his head in anticipation, could almost taste her sweetness.

Right before his efforts came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks.

“I’m glad to hear you enjoy running,” she whispered, then backed away and raised her voice to speak normally. “Because that’s all you’re ever going to do when it comes to me.” Giving him a quick wink after glancing at his crotch, she added, “No hard feelings… pet!”

To his painful dismay, she walked away and never looked back as she went to her room. What he didn’t know, was the bout of hyperventilation that racked her lungs as she leaned her back against the door the second she closed it behind her.

~~~*~~~

Tuesday………

Spike didn’t hesitate to go down and pay Angelus a personal visit. True, he couldn’t prevent Buffy from going out with the git, but he’d be bloody well damned if he didn’t tell him what would happen if he hurt his girl, er, roommate.

As soon as he came near the opened door to Captain Forehead’s office, a familiar irritating voice called out to him from his left.

“Where’ve you been, Blondie bear? I’ve missed you and you haven’t called me.”

Rolling his eyes before facing the delusional twit, he gave it to her straight like he did the night she was over at his place. “Harm. Do be a good girl and learn that when a man says `s been fun but you can leave now, he means don’ come back.” He ignored her indignant outburst of ‘jerk’ and walked straight towards Angelus.

“Willy-boy. I see you’ve been helping yourself to my sloppy seconds.”

Spike’s eyes widened. “You shagged that brainless… never mind-” he shook his head. “-`course you did.”

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit from you?” He watched the other man close the door before coming to sit in the chair across from his desk, facing him.

“No pleasure to be had, `specially on your end when it comes to Buffy,” he said gruffly.

“Ahh. I see. You’re here to protect her honor then?”

“Matter of fact, tha’s exactly what it is.” And it was. To him, it didn’t matter if he never slept with her, just so long as Angelus didn’t deceive her with his slippery methods and soil her with his grimy paws.

“See, I don’t believe you,” he began smugly while scratching his chin. “I think you’re here to try and frighten me away so you can keep her all to yourself. Which of course is laughable in itself.”

“`S not it, mate. You don’ know Buffy. Not like I do. And I don’ wanna see her hurt by the likes of you.”

“By the likes of me? Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha. As if I’m going to believe that shite coming out of the mouth of a man who’s slept with almost as many women as I have, and I do emphasize almost. I’ll tell ya what I think. I think what’s really burning your arse is the fact I’m going to have that sweet little piece wriggling in my bed sheets before you do, and all while she’s rejecting you under your own roof. But as always-” he swept an arrogant hand outward. “-you’re welcome to my leftovers.”

It took all of Spike’s mental restraint not to jump across the desk and beat the living daylights out of the wanker for talking about her like she was nothing. The fact they were here at work became the only reason holding him back. “You listen to me good, Buffy deserves better than you and I’ll be the one who-”

The door suddenly opened, one of Angelus’ associates entering with her arms full of papers.

“I brought the files and marketing projections you asked for Mr. O’Con-oh! I’m sorry, am I interrupting a meeting?”

“Not at all, not at all,” Angelus answered cheerfully. “Have a seat, Janet, William here was just leaving.”

Spike didn't say a word, simply got up and left, too furious with Angelus’ dismissal of him and feeling as if steam were about to pour out from his ears like some Warner Brothers cartoon character.

A thousand thoughts, emotions were swirling like a tornado in his head, each conflicting with the other, baffling him. One was pure rage directed towards Angelus but the rest focused on Buffy, the protectiveness he felt towards her, the possessiveness, his desire to make her his yet not wanting any harm to befall her. The tears he’d seen her cry on the day they moved in together nearly tore him in two. How would he handle it if they reappeared by Angelus’ hand or worse… his own? Sure, he was still intent on having her but what about afterwards? There’d never been an ‘afterwards’ in his life when it came to women. He stayed away from anything that resembled a relationship and yet he knew Buffy wasn’t ‘one night stand’ material. She was the complete opposite, the type of girl a man could care for, would be proud to bring home to his family. If he could just pinpoint the exact cause of the distraught he felt right now he’d… what, admit you’re jealous?

Turning the knob to his office, he couldn’t even remember how he got here he was so absorbed in his thoughts during the trip back. But as the door swung open and Buffy looked up to smile at him, the turbulent winds of his confusion died down, lulled by the beauty of her face.

“Hi.”

“`Lo, luv. Whatcha up to?”

“Ughh. In order to get properly prepared for our meeting this afternoon, I’m going to have to work through lunch. So I’m ordering in for some Thai food. You want any?”

Shocked but pleased, he had to ask, with a smirk thrown in for good measure, “Wouldn’ that be breakin’ your rule of not havin’ lunch with a male co-worker, pet?”

Rolling her eyes, she informed him of the way she saw it. “It’s eating while working, so it doesn’t qualify. Hey, all I did was offer. But if you have other plans I underst-”

“No-no-no,” he interrupted her quickly. No way was he going to let this opportunity pass him by. “No plans. `M happy to stay... and help, too. Can’ have you doin’ all the work when you’re the best partner I’ve ever had, right?" She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m the only partner you’ve ever had, though I think you refer to me as your assistant.”

“Don’ see you like that anymore, honestly. I found the best and intend on keepin’ you.” Way to Freudian slip there, mate. He really hoped she didn’t misinterpret that. It just flew out of his mouth before he even thought about it.

“Really?” That was almost… sweet of him to say.

“Yeah… really.” Smiling, he handed her the phone and told her he’d have the same as her.
Inside, he was thrilled just to be having lunch with her, even if it was under her terms as she defined it.

Tuesday………

At five o’clock on the dot, Cordelia went and literally dragged Buffy from her office so they could go out for a drink and gossip. She wanted the scoop on how her evening with Angel went; everything from where he took her to what they talked about and if she’d be seeing him again. Knowing her friend had been out of the dating game for a long time, she felt it was her duty to steer her in the right direction, which of course required getting all the details. But after sitting at Willy’s and listening to her, and listening, and listening to her ramble some more, she finally held up a hand to silence the blonde.

“You do realize that in the past fifteen minutes, I’ve heard more Spike statements than I have Angel?”

“Huh?”

“Spike did this and Spike said that,” she mimicked Buffy to include the attitude she heard in her voice. “Slamming doors, grabbing my arm, getting in my face, blah, blah, blah...”

“O-kaaaaaay, what are you getting at?” Hey, Cordy wanted to know how her night went therefore she was telling her. So Spike played a major part in the telling of the events, but that was only because he’d acted like such an ass, trying to wreck her date both before she left and when she came back.

“That I’ve heard maybe four minutes worth, and even that’s a stretch, of how sweet, funny and bashful the guy that you’ve agreed to go out with again is, while the rest was spent on your sexy roommate whom you so desperately wish out of your life.” The math said it all to her, and this was a definitely a trigonometry equation of massive proportions involving two parts testosterone on either side of one extremely clueless factor who was staring blankly back at her. “You said yourself that you and Spike made up today, so why am I not hearing more swooning or worrying about what you’re going to wear on this next outing with the other guy in your life then?”

“No offense to your worshiping of the fashion industry, Cordy… but that’s on the shallow end of the pond for me. And Spike isn’t in my life. He’s more like an obnoxious intruder.”

“And you’re so not getting it.” Looking over at Willy with an exasperated expression, he nodded in silent agreement with her and interjected.

“Sorry to cut in, Buffy, but what your friend, ahem… your very pretty and smart friend, I might add-” he threw Cordy a quick wink to which she smiled brightly in return. “-is saying, is that you’ve been moaning about the guy you obviously hate more than you’ve been basking in the thought of an upcoming date with someone you do like.”

“But… but, it’s only because he was so annoying and he almost, no… tried to ruin everything!”

Ruin ‘what’ exactly, was the question since everything Spike said and did seemed to take center stage in Buffy’s head while Angel was more of a side note. “And again… it’s all about him.” Giving up, Cordelia threw her arms in the air while Buffy turned to her with the same perplexed look that caused a small, vertical wrinkle to appear between her brows.

“Cordy, I really think you’re off the mark here, whatever your point is. The only reason I talk about Spike is that I-”

“That you hate him, yeah, we got that part,” Willy cut in again when seeing Cordy huff in frustration. “But you know what they say about that fine line, right?”

“Fine line?”

“Between love and hate… the havoc it causes from the unresolved tension it usually creates.”

“There is definitely no love to be had between us,” she retorted with a definitive wave of her hand slicing the air. “Unless you count the jollies he gets from goading me into fights. But there’s… well as of just now, no hate either. More like an underlining loathing actually that I’m totally sure he feels, too.”

With an obvious effort to control her need to smack some sense into her friend, Cordy managed her sweetest voice when telling her, “All I’m saying is don’t convince yourself Angel is this great guy until you really understand Spike’s behavior.” She shook her head. “And I can’t believe I just said that about Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome who happens to have really deep pockets.”

What is there to understand? His actions spoke so loudly that she barely heard what he said most of the time. Ignoring her friend, Buffy mused out loud as some other minor detail came to mind. “I vaguely remember him saying Angel had a Neanderthal forehead.” She finished her glass of wine before adding, “Something about more neurons at work in the frontal lobe than any other part of his brain, whatever that means.”

Cordelia took a breath, getting ready to say a mouthful then abruptly changed her mind. Shifting her attention to Willy, she ordered another round for the two of them. “You may as well get one for yourself, too. This is a conversation in desperate need of more alcohol.”

“None for me, thanks,” Buffy stopped him as he turned to retrieve another bottle. “Spike said he’d have dinner ready by six so I need to head out now. I’ll see you guys later.”

Getting up from her chair to grab her things, she completely missed the incredulous look exchanged between the brunettes as they shared the same thought in their minds… Dinner?!?! This was followed by an identical quirk of their eyebrows at one another as if to say ‘totally whipped’ where Spike was concerned and ‘how naïve can Buffy be’ as to the implication behind what she’d just said.

Turning her attention to Willy after their mutual friend left, Cordy openly admitted, “You’re pretty smart yourself, there, Mr. Willy…”

“Guglielmo Saverio Puccini actually, but the English translation of my name is William Xavier. So to fit in better with the New York culture, I just use Willy.” He shrugged.

“An Italian man, I see.” He looked at her curiously after her comment, so with playful grin, she asked, “So how long have you owned this place? It’s in a great location, very classy inside so it has to be… profitable?” It was obvious this man also had the smarts for business or else he wouldn’t set up shop in this competitive town if he didn’t do well for himself.

“About fifteen years now, and yeah, I make out pretty well. Don’t need to physically work here really, I just enjoy being around people. And what about you Miss Cordelia…”

“Chase.”

“An English surname then.” At her surprised nod that he’d know that, he added, “It’s an occupational name, or rather nickname for an exceptionally skilled huntsmen… or huntswoman in your case.” This earned him a confident smile on her part, and dare he say, slightly flirtatious?

“Tha’s me alright. And the ‘hunter’ part seems to run strong in my blood even to this day.”

And if Willy didn’t know any better, he could swear she was looking at him like prey right now. “So, how come I’ve never seen you in here before today?” he asked, thinking someone as stunningly beautiful as she would give him the simple explanation it was only due of their mutual friend, because there was absolutely no way she would actually be flirting with him, right?

Elbow on the counter, she raised her forearm to rest her chin in her hand, deepening her smile. “I never had a reason to other than this is Buffy’s favorite place… until maybe now.”

Gulp!!!

She got up and put on her coat, knowing it was the best strategy to leave him with that parting thought. To her surprise, he immediately offered to escort her to the door like a gentleman. He wasn’t all that gorgeous, more like cute, cute enough for her to ‘hunt’ the possibilities. The guy was smart, quick witted, well off and Italian, so he definitely had to have a seriously passionate side. As soon as he was walking beside her however, she noticed he was slightly shorter than she was, or maybe it’s the heels I’m wearing. Oh well, so he couldn't have it all... though all men are one height when they're horizontal!

~~~*~~~

As Spike had hoped, his night at home with Buffy was going smoothly. They had dinner together while chatting away and then retired to the living room… on separate ends of the couch. He certainly didn’t mind sitting in the leather recliner they had, but preferred to be as close to her as he could. She’d turned on the telly, channel surfing so much it drove him crazy to the point where he picked up his book and decided to read for awhile.

During this time, the conversation Spike had with Angelus kept running through his head, bothering him to the point of distraction. The urge to tell Buffy, to warn her became overwhelming but he didn’t think her trust in him was strong enough to accept the truth no matter how or in what way he could choose to broach the subject. She would more than likely view it as a lie; accuse him of trying to break things off between her and the tosser for his own benefit.

His trail of thought was interrupted when a pillow suddenly landed on his book.

“Are you gonna read the entire evening?” Buffy asked. There was nothing remotely interesting on TV and after flipping through the channels for nearly an hour, she was decidedly bored. “After all, you’re the one that wanted us talking again like normal, so I’d expect you to, you know… talk more.”

Seeing the futility of trying to explain that it was she that decided to sit in front of the telly in silence that made him grab his book in the first place, he let out a dramatic sigh before asking, “What is it you want to talk `bout, luv?”

“Oh, I don’t know… stuff.” Then she rolled her eyes at him. “Or are you so far in outer space with Hawking right now that you can’t grasp the simple concept of ‘stuff’.” Her fingers made quotation marks in the air to punctuate the last word.

Spike couldn’t suppress a tiny giggle after swiftly launching the pillow back at her, catching her square in the jaw. Her astonished expression was hilarious since she clearly hadn’t expected him to do that.

“Ughh! I can’t believe you just… that’s it, this is war!” She flung a second pillow at him, smiling when it knocked his book to the floor. Uh-oh! His leer was downright evil as he retrieved both pillows, flinging them at her in rapid succession, grinning when he successfully mussed up her hair.

They went back and forth, Buffy searching for extra ammunition, her fuzzy slippers, her hair scrunchy, anything that was soft as an all out battle ensued.

Spike supposed if it weren’t for her boredom, they wouldn’t be having such a playful moment as this. Infantile as he found it, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her fiery enthusiasm while bracing himself for every attack. Seems he’d found himself amidst one of her ‘grey areas’ and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to take advantage of it.

When they were all laughed out and sprawled on the couch trying to catch their breath, Buffy looked at her watch. “Damn, I almost forgot to call Willow!”

“Willow?”

“She’s an old friend, my best friend from high school back in California. We keep in touch once a week and it’s my turn to call.”

“Would she be home, given the time difference?”

“Yeah, but… now that I think about it, she’s probably having dinner right now. So I should wait a little longer.”

“Good.” Standing, he offered his hand to her. “I’ve got somethin’ in mind to help pass an hour or so… seein’ that you’re bored and all.”

“And that would be?” she asked skeptically even though she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her up.

“Was thinkin’ since there aren’ any clouds in the sky tonight, maybe you’d appreciate what `m readin’ if I pointed out the stars to you while sittin’ in the hot tub?” He wanted to extend the time they were spending together while she was in a good mood. “I ordered a telescope online the other day. `S too bad it won’ arrive for a few days, but… I can still show you. If you’re interested?” Please say yes.

Yeah, if that didn’t sound like a ploy! But what could it hurt? It was only an hour and she was sort of interested. Knowing the stars’ names wasn’t high on her list, but she appreciated it when they all came out to twinkle brightly. “I guess so.” His eyes lit up as he smiled and she let her hand linger a little longer in his, thinking the stars had nothing on those baby blues when they shined the way they were now. “U-uhmm… I’ll go get changed.” Shaking herself mentally for making such a poetic comparison, she let him go and went to her room.

~~~*~~~

Spike found it hard to keep his head trained on the night sky, sitting as close to Buffy as he had to in order for her eyes to follow the line of his finger whenever he pointed. It wasn’t just her nearness, but the fact she actually wore her black bikini. He remained steadfast throughout his lesson though, refusing to give in to the impulse of saying anything remotely sexual and ruin the evening. Not to mention he loved the look on her face as he told her of the constellations, their individual stars and the mythology behind some of them. She had the appearance of a child seeing something for the first time and it captivated him in a way he hadn’t expected it to.

I’ll never look at them the same way again, she mused as she soaked up every word Spike said. He amazed her with his vast knowledge of astronomy. And the extra little tidbits of history he told her sounded like a bedtime story, reminding her of when she was a child and her mother used to read to her.

“If we were able to sit here all night as the earth revolved on its axis, I could teach you more as the other constellations came into view. But then we’d both prune,” Spike joked, noticing that her head was still craned upwards, a dreamy quality imprinted in her eyes. Huh, guess she’s star-struck. He would have laughed at his pun but right now, all he wanted was to kiss her so bad, with her looking just like this. Unfortunately, that would bring an unhappy ending to an otherwise wonderful evening. He just hoped that one day, she’d come around to his way of thinking, and cum around my co… he needed to stop right there. It was that line of thinking that put him in this position with her, of having to learn how to slow down, be patient, be a… gentleman. Gentleman, pfft! He was that when need be but rarely with a woman. Not until now, mate, he reminded himself. Ah, but she was worth it; he could feel it in his gut, his chest, his… He just knew.

“Will you show me?” she asked, her gaze still directed towards the heavens. “When your order arrives and we can stay up late on the weekend? I’d love to see them up close.”

The wistful sigh that escaped her lips, the mesmerized expression on her face, the hope that laced her question… It thrilled him to hear such an unexpected request, to know she was interested in something he was and wanted to see it again… with him! “Absolutely, pet.” She finally turned to look at him wearing such a beautiful and genuine smile that it took his breath away, reigniting his desire to kiss her.

“I-I… guess I better go make that phone call now.” She didn’t know how much time had passed since coming out here, so rapt with listening to the soothing bass of his accent as he lectured while thinking he should be a narrator for audio books. One could easily fall asleep to the deep, purring quality of his lulling voice. Every word he spoke reverberated through her body even though he wasn’t touching her, and it made her feel all wobbly, weak-kneed and-and... “Thank you for this, Spike.” Gathering what was left of her senses, she decided now was the time to make her exit. “I really enjoyed it. And I mean it when I say I can’t wait to see them again when your microscope arrives.”

“Telescope, luv,” he corrected her with an amused chuckle.

“Telescope… right.” She felt all… fuzzy and dazed from this… experience with him but maybe it’s just because I was looking up for so long. Yeah, that has to be it. The blood in her head must not be circulating right.

Getting out of the hot tub and wrapping a towel around herself, she gave him a half smile before saying, “I’m gonna call Willow from my room then probably go to bed. Good night, Spike.”

As she bent down to pick her slippers up, he leaned forward to cup both her cheeks, giving her a brief kiss on the forehead. “G’night, pet.” He let go of her quickly so she wouldn’t think it was any sort of a ‘move’ and watched her go inside while choosing to remain here for awhile to think about everything that had happened between them tonight… and what it meant if anything.

~~~*~~~

Wednesday………

The entire day went by like any other with them working side by side as usual, if Buffy didn’t count the fact Spike didn’t make with the sexual innuendos like he normally did. She was grateful for it of course, but also found it… odd. Perhaps he was wrapped up in work, had something important on his mind, decided to treat her decently because she was seeing someone? But then again, that didn’t stop his little taunting session after Angel dropped her off two evenings ago, so it couldn’t be that. Well, whatever the reason, she was glad for the reprieve from his teasing.

And as five o’clock rolled around, she didn’t have the time or inclination to think about it anymore. All she wanted was to stop by Willy’s for a few minutes before heading home to get ready for her second date with the Irishman. And to avoid any embarrassment Spike might cause her, she planned on informing him before Angel showed up.

When the time arrived and she came out into the living room to tell him she was going out, she could see his body go rigid but instead of the expected outburst, she received nothing.

Bloody hell! Spike’s jaw tightened momentarily before he forced himself to relax. He let out a long, irritable sigh knowing there was nothing he could say or do to prevent Buffy from going out with Captain Forehead. And if he tried, it would only lead to bringing tension back between Buffy and him and considering how good things had been going lately, he definitely wanted to keep from doing anything that would break the tentative… dare he say, friendship they were building. “Right then.”

“That’s it?” she asked, surprised he had nothing more to say despite his apparent disapproval.

“Tha’s it.” Like he was going to tell her ‘have a nice time’? Not bloody likely, luv.

She felt ‘dismissed’ when he returned to reading his book as if she weren’t standing there at all. Feeling a tad miffed, she pressed him. “Not even a ‘you look good, Buffy’, or… I don’t know… anything?”

Throwing his book on the side table, he rose and swiftly marched up to her, unable to hide the frustration in his voice despite complimenting her. “You look good, Buffy, bloody gorgeous to be frank.” She just stood there staring back at him, a blank expression on her face. And as the silence wore on, it got the better of his agitated mood. “Anythin’ else you wanna hear?” he asked tersely.

“No,” she replied softly, perplexed by his curt question. “No, I guess not. I-I just thought…” Thought what? Did she have any idea what she wanted him to say? No, none at all, she supposed. But God if it wasn’t infuriating to see him acting so… so aloof! Yes, that was the appropriate word for it. And it wasn’t because she was fishing for flattery or liked it when he got all growly and possessive, most definitely not.

“What? You want me to tell you again not to sleep with the ponce? Well, consider it said.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he defended himself with a pointed look that he hoped would leave no doubt in her mind what he fully understood from the last argument they’d had about the poofter… and then said something that – with any luck - would keep that sassy, self righteous gob of hers shut. “And since we’re on the subject, don’ even think `bout repeatin’ the ‘`m a lady routine’ again. Got the memo, luv. Now… if you’ll excuse me.”

And just like that, he walked back to the couch, picked up his book and commenced to reading once more, a stone cold look etched into his features.

He’d left her speechless, and though she opened her mouth to try for some form of retort, the sudden knock on the door prevented her from doing so. Angel. It had to be, and she didn’t know whether to feel grateful or upset for the interruption. With no other choice, she left, quietly shutting the door behind her.

In no mood to read anymore about theories on the heavens, he felt like having a physical slice of his own… preferably blonde.

~~~*~~~

Spike went to the nearest drinking establishment, sat down and was waiting for the bartender to turn around so he could order a drink. Once he did, both men recognized each other immediately, one thinking ‘oh no’, the other, ‘bloody hell’.

“You’re not gonna cause any trouble here are ya, buddy?” Willy asked.

“Nah, mate. The only trouble I’ve caused lately has come back `round to bite me on the arse. Just need a whiskey `s all. Matter of fact…” He pulled out a few bills and slapped them on the counter. “Leave the bottle.”

“Okay, boss.” Giving the man what he wanted, Willy couldn’t help but to inquire, “Can I ask if it’s just that she’s dating… or who she’s dating that bugs you?”

Spike had just raised his glass to take his first drink when the question stilled his arm. “What did you say?” Willy had his elbows leaned on the bar and a look on his face that suggested he knew all about what Buffy was doing and how it affected him. Figures the chit would blab to this bloke. “Bugger,” he muttered under his breath then downed the liquid and poured another before answering. “`Cause of who… and I don’ wanna see her get hurt.”

“Really?”

Not liking the accusatory tone the guy was taking with him, he got defensive. “Yeah. Wha’s it to you?”

“So it has nothing to do with what you feel for Buffy?”

“What the bleedin’ hell are you on `bout?”

Willy shrugged. Seeing the Brit’s irritation only reaffirmed his suspicions. “Seems to me if she meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t care so much.” And since he considered Buffy more than just a regular patron, perhaps a subtle - or not so subtle - nudge would clear the man’s thinking up before the whiskey hit.

“Jus’ how much do you know `bout her anyway?”

“After nearly eight years?” He cocked his head to one side and left the question to stand so the blond could gather his own inferences. “Lemme ask you another question.”

Spike rolled his eyes, he didn’t come here to be harassed about Buffy, he came here to forget her and find himself something warm and willing of the female variety.

“Would it make you feel any better if I told you she flirts with lots of men every time she’s here? Woman’s the biggest cock tease I’ve ever seen. But I’m sure she gets her kicks.” Willy had to bite the inside of his cheek for lying like that, but if he got the right reaction, then it would serve its purpose … or so he hoped.

“Oi! Don’ talk `bout her that way.” Seeing red right now was not in his best interest. If this bloke kept it up though, he’d knock him out and most likely land himself in jail because of it.

“What’s it to you how I talk about her?”

“The bird `s my roommate, mate. And even though tha’s all she is, I know she’s not like that!”

Pushing this kid’s buttons was working out very well indeed, so he continued. “Yeah, but you still wanna get in her pants, right?”

Spike actually laughed at that. “Who wouldn’?”

“So what does it matter if the other guy breaks her heart? Might make her an easier target, all damsel-in-distress-like. And you’ll be there to scoop her up from her misery.”

“Don’ want an easy target,” Spike mumbled around his glass, truly unaware of what he’d just said.

“Ever wondered why that is?” He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

“What are you, some kind of friggin’ sage?”

Willy picked up a rag and began wiping the counter down. “Nope. I just know people.” Then he walked away, hoping he’d said enough. As for Buffy, well, she’d have to open the door of communication herself before he could give her a nudging, too. Of course he wasn’t holding his breath because it obviously took more than one glass of wine for her to do so… and it wasn’t the norm for her to drink like that.

After six shots of whiskey, Spike felt relaxed but not too buzzed to scope the place out looking for ‘Miss Right Now’. And there she is! Blonde, petite, wrong eye color, but she’d do.

Putting on his best cock and swagger, he made his way over to her. They made small talk until he’d sized up her personality for the sake of knowing which pick-up technique to apply then poured on the charm. Fifteen minutes later and he was following her out the door, never seeing Willy as he shook his head back and forth, a disappointed look in his eyes.

~~~*~~~

Less than thirty five minutes later, Spike was back at home… taking a shower and bringing himself to orgasm. With the effects of the alcohol already wearing off, his thoughts drifted to the woman he almost shagged tonight.

He’d hailed down a cab to take them to her place, hell bent on screwing her brains out. But when walking behind her as she led him to her door, he found his eyes were glued to her arse. The problem? He was comparing it to Buffy’s, and when he realized it, realized he’d picked a girl who looked similar in appearance to his roommate… he backed out at the last second, saying he felt sick from how much he’d drank. Oh, he was sick alright, just not from the whiskey and not to his stomach.

Recognizing the fact he was choosing to settle for a look-a-like is what made him ill. He didn’t want to ‘settle’. Not when he knew who he wanted. Yeah, sick of himself and his behavior was more like it.

And when thinking about what the bartender had said, he knew Willy was right. Why should it bother him if Buffy was dating, if she got hurt? She claimed to be a big girl who could take care of herself, and in the end, she’d be the only one held accountable for her actions when she got hurt… because Angelus would hurt her, there was no questioning the inevitability of that.

But would he be there for her when she fell? Offer his shoulder when she cried? A part of him would be all too eager to say ‘I told you so’, but a bigger part of him knew he wouldn’t, knew he’d never treat her so cruelly.

He sighed as he turned the water off and reached for a towel. Yes, he would be there to comfort her, not, however, take advantage of the situation as Willy had suggested. He had no desire to be the ‘rebound guy’ and have Buffy view it, him, as a mistake in judgment later. That would leave him feeling hollow, used and...

Like a proverbial slap upside the head, he realized something profound.

No matter who he slept with these days, all he saw was her, and all he felt was hollow and empty afterwards. Yeah, jus’ been ‘emptied’, mate, he tried to joke with himself, but it fell flat under the weight of his revelation.

After knowing her for only twenty days, she was all he could bloody think about, dream about. She was in his gut, in his throat, he was drowning in her and even worse, he didn’t understand the cause of it, why, what it meant. Bloody hell! He couldn’t deny it, but he could try to ignore it… try bein’ the key word. After all, he was a man who knew what, no, who he wanted… whether he understood it or not seemed irrelevant. All he could do for now was sit back and ignore things until the whole Angelus thing blew over. And it would, of this he was sure, he only hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

Roughly twenty minutes later, he was back in the living room with his book when there was a knock on the door followed by Buffy’s voice.

“Spike? Are you in there? I forgot my key. Can you come open the door please? Spike?”

“Hold on,” he hollered back and, `f course, when he opened the door she had the pillock standing behind her. Holding back from looking as disgusted as he felt, he said, “You can come in, Angelus.” Buffy looked at him in shock, but he nodded his consent. There was nothing Angelus could do to her while he was here plus they shared a rule. So it might do him good to show her he could be a man about all this even though she knew he didn’t approve of her seeing the git.

As they entered, Angelus greeted Spike politely while Spike kept his welcoming response brief.

“I’ll be right back,” Buffy glanced over her shoulder as she walked towards the kitchen. “I need a glass of water.”

Angelus chose to stand near the door instead of coming in to sit down when Spike gestured an arm towards the couch. When Buffy was out of earshot, he whispered his news to Spike with a confident leer.

“I’m taking Buffy out of the city this weekend, Willy-boy.” Bouncing on his heels twice and jutting his hips forwards in a crude fashion, he added, “A little… excursion through wine country. Yup, by the time she gets back home, she’ll be walking funny. Gonna nail her good while smiling at the fact that you lost.” He was relishing in Spike’s barely controlled reaction… fists curling up, eyes narrowing, jaw ticking, one foot taking a step towards him. If he got knocked in the jaw, it would only play right into his hand with Buffy being sympathetic towards him and angry with her roommate, so he hoped the peroxide kid would take the swing.

Too bad for him Spike knew what he was trying to do. In a low, deadly voice, all he said was, “`S not gonna happen.” His girl wasn’t like that, wouldn’t fall for some grandiose, overly romantic gesture and spread her legs because of it. He’d bet his life on it. Angelus had barely opened his mouth to respond when Buffy came walking back, both men immediately composing themselves as if they hadn’t been talking.

“I had a great time tonight, thank you, Angel. I’ll, uhmm, talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Glad to hear it, and as always, I enjoyed the pleasure of your company.”

Smiling, he moved forward to give her a kiss but she moved to the side at the last second and simply gave him a quick, impersonal hug. Spike smirked triumphantly at Angelus from behind her back as if to say ‘you can try, but you’ll fail’.

After Angel left, Spike wanted to warn Buffy why she shouldn’t go away this weekend but knew she wouldn’t believe him. After saying she’d be right back after a quick shower, he took up residency on the couch again while thinking of a way to tell her without actually saying it or to somehow prevent her from… A slow smile crept across his lips when an idea suddenly sprung to mind, something he hoped would get her to break her date with Angel.

When he heard the shower start running, he took his phone out and called a good buddy of his, a person who knew someone who knew someone who knew someone else. After they chatted for a bit and had a few laughs, Spike asked him for a favor and was sure to add that there was no limit on the amount he had to spend as long as he got what he wanted no later than Friday morning.

Snapping his cell shut, he grinned at his own genius. The favor he asked was a pretty hefty one to fill and damn near impossible on such short notice. But money talked, especially his, so he picked his book back up with no worries at all.

Buffy came back out a little later wearing her flannel pajamas and rubbing her damp hair with a towel as she sat down next to him.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, luv?”

“Spike, could you put the book down for a minute? Please?” she asked nicely while touching his arm.

“Somethin’ the matter?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to say… to say two things actually. And I’m going to say them now before I lose my nerve.”

This oughta be interestin’, he mused as he took in the way she was fidgeting and biting her bottom lip. Then she shocked him when she reached out to take one of his hands in both of hers and looked him straight in the eyes.

“I’m sorry that we… that I may have provoked our, uhmm…heated discussion earlier and I want to thank you for inviting Angel inside… for being so polite.” Taking a deep breath, she rushed through the rest of what she had to say. “I-know-you-don’t-like-him…” She shook her head, her breath still ragged with the effort to finish. “But… well, it-meant-a-lot-to-me-so-thank-you. Very much.”

Wow. He didn’t see that one coming, either actually. And as she squeezed his hand, looking at him expectantly with those large, beautiful green eyes of hers, he smiled. “`M sorry, too, pet.” He clasped his other hand over hers and squeezed back. When she visibly relaxed, he told her, “And you’re welcome. I can’ help it that I worry `bout you, but I have confidence and respect in your ability to make your own decisions, so… I realized I had to give a li’l, extend that respect and be accommodatin’ when it comes to Angelus.” Christ the way she was looking at him right now sent a chill down his spine yet warmed his heart.

“So… we’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” She embraced him in a tight hug and kissed his cheek after whispering goodnight. When she left the room, he couldn’t help but think she’d given more of herself to him in the last sixty seconds than she probably ever had to Angelus… and the way it left him feeling went beyond indescribable.

Thursday………

Throughout the day, Spike made a conscious effort to behave around Buffy. It wasn’t easy for him though, especially given what she chose to wear. A divine form hugging black skirt with fancy pleating that flared out at the very bottom, and a snow white sheer blouse with ruffled lace draping off its long sleeves which - although she had a respectable camisole underneath to tastefully cover herself – did nothing to hinder his imagination. And she wore her hair down, which was a first for the workplace. All those golden waves that bounced when she walked, so soft and shiny in appearance, the scent of her shampoo that invaded his nostrils every time she flipped it over her shoulder when sitting next to him… he wanted to lose himself in it, to nuzzle it with his face as he held her, twine his fingers around the silken strands and…

He sighed. No, she definitely wasn’t making it easy for him at all. She had no bloody idea of the effect she had on him either, and on so many levels. God help him, too, but he didn’t even want to count the number of times he had to adjust himself whenever she bent over at any angle. But that was another thing he adored about her, her obliviousness. She never seemed to notice his struggle to control his desire for her.

Speaking of oblivious, when she left the office for a moment, he made sure to phone his friend to find out how his ‘favor’ was coming along. He was paying a pretty penny for it to be sure, but in his mind, Buffy was worth every last cent. And it seemed lady luck was indeed smiling on him when his buddy guaranteed it would be delivered directly to him at work before noon tomorrow. Now all he had to do was make up an excuse concerning their morning meeting scheduled for tomorrow, one that would allow him to stay behind and keep her out of the office so she wouldn’t see his surprise until he wanted her to.

If his plan within his plan worked, he’d not only keep her out of the evil clutches of Angelus, but he’d also have her all to himself this weekend. No, he didn’t expect anything to ‘happen’ between them if he succeeded – of course he wouldn’t say no if it did either - but the time they’d be spending together was what he was looking forward to the most. And he hoped it would go a long way with her as well, maybe even bring them closer together as a, as a... what? Couple?

What was he thinking? That when they finally brought the house down they would end up playing footsy under the rubble, read the morning newspaper together? Er, wait. They already lived together. She was around him all the time, damn near twenty four seven at that. But oddly enough, he didn’t really mind, had even grown accustomed to it. They shared the same space together, ate meals together, chatted all the time, watched the telly together and sometimes even fought like a ‘couple’… if he didn’t account for the fact they slept in separate beds and she was currently seeing The Great Poof.

If only Angelus were out of the picture, would it be so bad if they… if he and she… No. She’d never want that… not with me anyway. And bugger if that didn’t smart. But is that what his heart was trying to tell him he wanted? Or was he just plain daft for entertaining such a silly, emotional notion?

~~~*~~~

Friday afternoon……..

Buffy still didn’t understand why Spike made her go by herself to their client meeting. He said he didn’t feel well but he looked alright to her at the time, seemed okay this morning at home, too. She yawned as she got on the elevator. The meeting dragged on longer than what she considered the norm and she wished Spike had been there. As much as she hated to admit it, things did tend to go a lot quicker and smoother when they worked together. I must be going insane, she decided as she thought for a few fleeting seconds that she’d actually missed him. Noooooo, missed him being at the meeting, like he should have been. Nothing more than that.

But, oh God, what if he really is getting sick? Snyder was out for three days in a row this week with a stomach virus and just came back to work today. So it wasn’t that far-fetched that Spike could have caught it.

She wasn’t starting to panic or anything, nope, she’d just ask if he felt nauseous and if he said yes, she’d suggest he go home. Then she’d have to try and stay as far away from him as she could so she didn’t catch it. Yeah, right! Who was she kidding? If he was coming down with what Snyder had, he’d be an even bigger baby than when he had a cold. Probably use that stupid pout on me, too, because he’d want her to take care of him, and as sure as the sun rose every morning, she’d wind up giving in. She knew she couldn’t say no to him, not when he genuinely needed her.

When she finally walked inside their office, her concern for him stopped short upon the bright - and somewhat devious - smile he wore.

“I thought you said you weren’t feeling well?”

“Worried `bout me, pet?” She hmmph’ed and added a ‘you wish’ as she set her briefcase aside but he could tell she had been, making his already great mood skyrocket. Opening a drawer and pulling out the box he wrapped himself, he stood, being sure to keep his surprise behind his back as he approached her.

“What are you up to?” she asked hesitantly, crinkling her brow. He grinned like he was immensely pleased with himself over something, making her more than a little uneasy.

“Me?” he asked innocently. Shrugging, he removed his hands from behind his back to hold up the bright red box with its neatly tied white ribbon. “Happy Birthday.”

Her stomach did a little flip-flop inside but she was confused. “It’s not my birthday, Spike.”

“It isn’t?” He feigned surprise. “`M sorry… thought it was.” Oh, he knew her birthday wasn’t until June, but she didn’t know he knew that. When she suddenly started to fidget and act shy, he lied through his teeth and prayed she didn’t call him on it. “Thought I overheard you sayin’ somethin’ to Cordelia a few days ago `bout it bein’ your birthday this week.”

She didn’t remember saying anything like that to Cordy, so he must have misinterpreted whatever it was he’d heard. But as she eyed the box, it was touching to think he’d gotten her something, even at the cost of deceiving her that he might be ill. “You… you really thought it was my birthday? You bought me something?”

“Of course, luv. Couldn’ let my girl’s birthday go by without gettin’ her a present, now could I?” He let his smile drop before sighing as if defeated and turned to walk away. “But… since it isn’, I s’pose I could return it.”

“NO!” He froze and all she could think was jeez, over anxious much, Buffy? “No, I’ll… can I… can I have it anyway?” she asked timidly.

Smiling wickedly that his plan was beginning to work, he composed himself before turning back around to face her and said, “On one condition… since it isn’ your birthday.” She eyed him suspiciously but her gaze kept shifting to the package in his hands, looking like a kid the way her eyes were all lit up at the thought of receiving a present. And this time she can’ accuse me of tryin’ to ‘buy’ her, this bein’ a legitimate birthday present an’ all… at least as far as she knows.

“And what’s that?”

“I’ll tell you after you open it.”

“I’m not so sure,” she stated cautiously. “Sounds like you’re trying to trick me.” Knowing him all too well by now, she was sure he was up to something.

Throwing a hand up, he told her, “Honestly, `m not. How could you think I’d…” After she raised an accusatory brow, he smiled sheepishly and admitted, “Well, normally I would, yes, but not this time. The condition is innocent `nough and I think after you see what I got… you won’ mind agreein’ to it.” She still looked wary but he held onto his hope.

“Alright. But I reserve the right to renege if I don’t like the condition, understood?” If he suggests anything remotely perverted, he’s dead.

“Understood.” Nodding, he handed it to her and tried to contain his mirth as she tore into it and gasped out loud.

“Oh-my-God! H-how, when did, no… HOW… oh-my-GOD!!!” Opening the jacket to the DVD set, she inspected it thoroughly to find it contained every single episode of Blood Ties to include those that hadn’t even aired yet. That did it, she couldn’t contain herself, jumping up and down as she squee’d excitedly. Hell, she’d agree to anything he wanted she was so pleased.

Before he could smile, she knocked the breath out of his lungs when she threw her arms around him in a bear-hug, kissing him repeatedly on the cheek. He kept his arms held away from her though, not wanting her to think he had an ulterior motive, even if he had. No sense in having a repeat performance like that over the commission checks when his lips landed in the wrong place, now was there?

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Giving him one last kiss, she pulled away so she could ask about his stipulation. “And the condition?” Please let it be something I can say ‘yes’ to. She’d hate to have to give it back.

This was almost too easy, but now he had to launch phase two of his plan. “That you and I spend the day havin’ a Blood Ties marathon. Complete with popcorn, beer, junk food, whatever you want.”

“That’s it? But… why?”

“Been curious `bout the series, but I didn’ want to start watchin’ it in the middle so…” He swept a hand towards the present she clutched tightly to her chest. “Best place to start is the beginnin’. That is if you don’ mind since you’ve already seen most `f it.”

“Wow, uhmm, okay.” She never suspected he was interested in the show and it threw her off for a minute. But what did it matter? He’d given her the entire series and she so wasn’t about to tell him no. “So when do you want to do this?”

And here came the crucial part. “Tomorrow, seein’ it’s Saturday and all.” Oh, he expected the frown that suddenly appeared on her face, but he kept up his ruse when asking, “Wha’s the matter, luv?”

“I was supposed to go and… with...” She trailed off, deep in thought. Of course Spike had no idea she was going away with Angel tomorrow, her intention was to tell him about it tonight after work. But now, with his gift and his ‘condition’… well… this was Kyle Schmid after all! Hmmmm, Angel or Henry, Angel or Henry? The choice was pretty clear in her mind, Henry it is!!! She’d call and cancel with Angel once Spike wasn’t around, tell him maybe next weekend, that something unexpected came up that needed her attention. She gave Spike a goofy grin. “You’re on, Mister. Consider it a date.”

“It’s a date then,” he confirmed. A date! He had a ‘date’ with Buffy. Er, well, not really when considering it was under their own roof. But he got what he wanted most… to have her all to himself and far away from Angelus. He’d probably go buggering crazy after hour number four of watching Buffy drool over that Henry git, but it’d be worth going through just to spend time with… Nah, mate. He couldn’t go there and reminded himself he was only doing this to protect her.

~~~*~~~

Later that evening as Spike watched Buffy settle down to watch the telly, he wondered if he couldn’t convince her to get out of the apartment for awhile. She spent nearly every night doing the same boring thing, that is, whenever she wasn’t out with Peaches.

“Hey! I was watching that.” Spike surprised her when he went over and shut the television off and stood in front of it with his arms crossed, glaring at her.

“And now you’re not.”

“Blood Ties is coming on in an hour and you kn-”

“Tomorrow, remember? Now…” Walking over to where she was comfortably curled up on her side, he bent over and took her hands, bringing her upright despite her groan of protest. “You’re turnin’ into a couch potato, luv. I say le’s go out tonight.”

“I already did.”

Shaking his head, he pulled her to stand. “Willy’s doesn’ count.” Placing her hands around his waist, he laid his forearms loosely on her shoulders and began moving to an imaginary beat. “`M talkin’ `bout a real place, maybe do a li’l dancin’, yeah?” He curled his tongue behind his teeth, coaxing her into following him then grinned when she started chuckling. “Come-ooooon. When’s the last time you danced, hmmm?”

Still letting him lead her around, she sighed. “I used to go clubbing in college but that was years ago.” Her answer made him stop moving as he eyed her seriously.

“Tha’s it. We’re goin’.” His girl really needed to learn how to have some fun every once in a while. Tugging on her elbows, he tried to pull her towards the hallway but she resisted and dug her heels into the carpet.

“Spiiiiike,” she whined. “I really don’t feel-”

“No arguin’!” He turned to face her, his voice softening along with his expression. “I promise you’ll have a great time.” Getting her to loosen up would be to her benefit and the thought she might actually dance with him? Definitely worth dragging her out, kicking and screaming if necessary.

She snorted in response, the sarcasm in her voice heavy. “Yeah, until you get a stiffy for some random woman and then you’re gone and I’m left by myself.”

Did she really think he’d do that to her? Then again, she’d been on the receiving end of his insensitivity several times, so he really couldn’t blame her. “Not gonna happen. Not interested when I’ll have the prettiest girl there with me.” He swore her eyebrow arched so high it was nearly a quarter of an inch from her hair-line.

“Seriously?”

It sounded more like a statement than a question, one of which he’d be damned if she didn’t believe him. “I’d never leave you by yourself.” He spoke softly in sharp contrast to the strong determination he felt inside to convince her. Her brow furrowed and he could tell she was contemplating whether or not to go. Well, he didn’t want to give her the chance to say no, so again he began pulling her towards the hall, this time successfully. “Come on, Goldilocks. Promise I won’ leave your side, please?” he pursed his lips.

“Fine. But just for a couple of hours.” Ughh. She really wasn’t in the mood for this but Spike had a way about him that made her cave. Stupid pout!

~~~*~~~

Buffy was surprised when Spike kept his word and remained by her side. Perhaps a little too close at times, but she brushed it off so she could enjoy her buzz and because he’d steered away a few drunken creeps for her, saving her the trouble of having to get nasty with them. She found his method not only effective but somewhat endearing as well… even if by all rights she should be annoyed by the show of testosterone. Like I can't protect myself? But since she was tipsy and actually enjoying herself, she just grinned and let him do as he pleased, deciding not to let anything put a damper on their outing.

Whenever anyone approached her, he promptly wound a protective arm around her as if she were his possession and glared at them challengingly, daring them to take one step closer. She had to admit, he did have an imposing presence, a foreboding, almost dangerous air about him dressed all in black like the first time she’d met him… disarmingly handsome with those striking cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, his masculine scent mixed with a hint of leather… Not like she was truly paying attention to him like that, even if a small part of her whispered that the way he looked tonight was nearly as intoxicating as her drink. Angel, you’re dating Angel, her ever growing fuzzy brain tried to chant.

Meanwhile, Spike was in his own personal hell. Sure, he got Buffy out alright, unwound, chatting and laughing with him, but too many blokes were looking her way and pissing him off. He didn’t hesitate to show she was there with him, whether or not it was true in a romantic sense didn’t matter, and still the swarm of bloody wankers jus’ don’ get the picture! They were like flies drawn to her honey, drinking in her curves accentuated by the little red halter top she wore. Then again, maybe it was the black leather pants that hugged her slender hips and delectable arse, or the long flowing hair that framed her face with those beautiful eyes outlined in smoky charcoal, making them stand out like emeralds. Bloody hell, it was everything about her. She screamed ‘sex’ without even knowing it and he knew he couldn’t blame the poor fools hoping to catch her eye. He was, after all, one of them. Yeah, but she chose to come here with me. His jaw clenched as he tried denying the jealousy that tore through him.

After being there an hour and a half, what he wanted was to dance with her, have her arms wrapped around him, move to the music with her, get close enough to feel the beat of her heart… But she said ‘no’ when he’d asked early on, claiming she wasn’t in the mood, yet he swore he could sense her body humming with the need to sway to the rhythm.

He proved himself correct when halfway through her fourth whiskey sour, a song came on she obviously liked and she lip-synced the words while staring across the dance floor. Fascinated, he watched her mouth move, thinking the chorus somewhat fitting… at least for him.


Well I’m not paralyzed
But I seem to be struck by you
I wanna make you move
Because you’re standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You’ll probably move right through
Me on my way to you


Oh yes, the words definitely hit close to home for him. And she tortured him further when she started to shimmy her hips back and forth, bumping into his lightly every time, until she abruptly stopped to point towards something, or rather someone.

“Hey, isn’t that Owen?” She thought she recognized their driver from work. “It is! I’m-gonna-go-say-hi, be-right-back.”

She spoke quickly and was gone in a flash, never noticing the number of heads turning to watch her as she walked away before Spike could utter a word. Who the bloody hell is Owen? It didn’t take him long to figure it out as his eyes followed her and she stood talking before the tall guy who usually chauffeured them to their meetings. He didn’t like the way the git’s face lit up when she took his hand and they moved onto the floor to begin dancing together. Oh, so she’s ‘not in the mood’ to dance with me, but after seein’ him, she suddenly is?

“Why do I get the distinct feeling I’m treading on someone else’s territory?” Owen asked Buffy as they moved to the music.

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend there.” He directed a glance behind her to indicate who he meant, watching her look over her shoulder.

She immediately honed in on Spike’s threatening stare that was directed not at her, but Owen. Turning to face her dance partner, she rolled her eyes. “He’s just a colleague.” At his ‘sure could have fooled me’ look, she became somewhat irritated. “Trust me, there’s nothing going on between us despite what you saw that one day.” As if to prove her point, she pivoted so her back was to Owen and danced more provocatively, inviting him to a little innocent bump and grind.

The tune began to fade before it ended, the slower beat of a new one bleeding in to take over. Adjusting the sway of her hips, she closed her eyes and raised her arms above her head, waiting to feel Owen hands on her sides. She never saw he’d backed away in fear as a furious looking Spike swiftly stalked towards them with a menacing gleam in his eyes, duster billowing behind him.

When he stood directly in front of her, ready to ask what the bleeding hell she thought she was doing, she surprised him by running her drunken mouth, eyes still closed; completely unaware he was there to hear her.

“My boss, he’s just… too much twisted steel and sex appeal for me.” Yeah right, keep lying to yourself, that same whispery voice from earlier came back to taunt her.

Shaking off his initial shock at her words, he outwardly smirked while gloating inside. And why shouldn’t he? Didn’t they say children and drunks always spoke the truth? Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her close and breathed in her ear, “Nothin’s too much for you, kitten.” He chuckled when her eyes instantly bulged from their sockets like a ‘jack-in-the-box’. Boy did she have one of those ‘oh shit’ looks on her face, knowing she was busted.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=3tyRNWeqhik

She recovered as quickly as her inebriated mind allowed her and gave him a pout, trying to change the subject. “You chased Owen off.”

Amused at her antics, he decided to let her off the hook, leaning in towards her ear again. “That doesn' mean you have to stop dancin’… now does it?” he purred.

Weak in the knees and speechless didn’t begin to describe the effect that deep voice had on her right now, whether she admitted it or not.


You make it hard to breathe
It’s as if I’m suffocating


The will or want to resist his touch also fled in the wake of his warm palms trailing up her sides, gliding sensuously along the skin of her arms to reach her hands still raised above her head. Ever so gently, he lowered them to his chest where they found their own way around his neck at the same time his sought purchase about her waist.

They both felt the reality behind the words being sung hit them as they surrendered to the beat, bodies coming together so close they could feel every pulse, every breath, every tiny tremor the other elicited from the intimate contact.


And when you’re next to me
I can feel your heartbeat through my skin


Buffy felt too hypnotized to do anything but follow his lead, thinking my God, can he ever dance. Either that or she was physically unsteady from the alcohol and he was merely holding her up, which at the moment, seemed like a plausible explanation. Yeah, Buffy, and De-nial is just a river in Egypt!

And Spike felt like he was struggling not to overstep the boundaries Buffy had so clearly drawn concerning their relationship. Oh, he wanted to step over that line, jump to the other side, wanted to rub himself erotically against her body and blame it on the rhythm of the music. But he couldn’t. She was clearly drunk and trusted him, even if only a fraction. He cursed himself when thinking if this were the ‘old’ him, he wouldn’t have held back, would have engaged the woman in his arms right now long before she’d drank too much and seduced her without a second thought.


It makes me sad to think
This all could be for nothing
I wish there was a way
For you to see inside of me


But he knew her now, was in deeper than he was able to recognize or accept, couldn’t think of what would happen were it anyone else but her… and were he anyone else other than the stranger he’d become whenever he was in her presence. It was frightening to him, being this stranger, but it felt like he’d gained a, a… ‘spark’ - for lack of a better term - something he never had before and only now realized he’d been missing all along.


I’ve never felt this way
About anyone or anything


As the words filtered through his ears, he found more than a sliver of truth in them, and however disturbed he felt over this private realization, it didn’t stop the uninvited questions that rose within him... Was he kidding himself over what he’d originally thought he wanted? Was it really only lust he felt for her? And if he ‘had’ her, sexually, then what? Would he be able to move on if he were allowed a single night of her full acceptance? He already knew she wasn’t the kind of woman a man just used then left as if nothing happened, and knowing that suddenly brought with it a very profound and personal revelation… that one night with her would never be enough for him. But was he ready for something more?


Tell me
What do I have to do to make you happy?
What do I have to do to make you understand?
What do I have to do to make you want me?


Lowering his mouth near her ear, he hoped to purge himself through the lyrics, a way of exonerating himself like a confession, made easier because she probably won’ remember it in the mornin’ anyhow, he thought with a trace of sadness he didn’t care to analyze the reason for.


And, if I can’t make you want me
What do I have to do?


Whatever it took, he had to get this absurd notion out of his head, the inane idea he could ever mean anything to her. He was beneath her.


I’m not as selfish as I used to be
That was a part of me that never made me proud


She’d said it herself, that he was ‘beneath’ her, that he was ‘absolutely nothing’ to her, and he briefly wished he could find a way to make her see him differently, to change her stubborn mind. Her stubbornness `s not without good reason, mate. He hated doubting himself, but this time he knew he was right to.


Right now I think I would try anything
Anything at all to keep you satisfied


Laying her cheek against his shoulder, Buffy was lost in a river of confusion, her clouded mind trying to make sense out of what she felt as his rich voice resonated through her body, denying any swooning on her part as she listened to the words wash over her. It was like he was speaking to her, pouring out his heart. Pffft, more like trying to get you to bed now that you’re all ditzy… But she knew she was wrong, she’d been drunk with him before and he’d never been anything but a gentleman during those times.


God I hope you see what loving you would do to me
All I want is one more chance, so tell me...
What do I have to do to make you love me?


She wasn’t in the right state of mind to be drawing any conclusions, though; to think what he sang was a reflection of his own sentiments, to question if he was singing to her or just plain singing. Her eyelids felt heavy as she raised them, her sight instantly landing on Owen who was leaning against the bar, watching her, and what she saw on his face was the same expression as when they’d danced together… ‘you could have fooled me’.

I’m here to have a good time, she reminded herself, not to create… issues out of thin air. Air, she needed air. Air good, she thought, and much distance from the temptation of Spike. Temptation bad. The song hadn’t yet come to an end, but it was close enough and she disentangled herself from his embrace… a little too rapidly for her own good.

“Whoa-there, luv.” Spike had to steady one very wobbly-legged Buffy. Her coordination was non-existent from the whiskey she’d ingested and the fact it finally caught up to her. And since he had enough flowing through his veins as well, he felt it was best to go home, forget this dance and pass off whatever thoughts he’d had as nothing more than malt-induced imagination. “Le’s get outta here.”

“But you said *hiccup* you wanted me for some fun, er… for me to have some fun,” she whined as he dragged her towards the exit. “And I want *hiccup* another drink.”

“Not a wise idea, pet. Think you’ve had plenty for tonight.”

“You *hiccup* grumpy.”

“Am not.”

“Are too,” she argued with a pout while he helped her into her coat and then walked her outside.

He managed to hail a cab rather quickly and a good thing too, because as soon as they got inside she passed out, her face landing squarely in his lap with a soft ‘plop’. Pushing her upright, he placed her into a more ‘appropriate’ position, chuckling over the fact she was a cheap date when it came to buying her drinks. As the taxi took off, however, he quickly sobered when thinking about their dance and the costly dent it made on his confusing emotions.

After paying the cabby, Spike carefully picked Buffy up and cradling her close, carried her to the elevator. He had a few laughs on the ride up to their apartment from her incoherent mumbling and a few sleepy snorts whenever her head would loll backwards before jerking upright.

Since he doubted she could stand on her own, it was a bit of a struggle to hold her so he could use his key to get in, but he managed. Kicking the door shut behind him, he thought about just dumping her on the couch to sleep it off until morning. But when her hand found its way to his shoulder and she softly murmured his name while nestling her face in the crook of his neck, he just couldn’t do it.

Pulling her more firmly against him, she said his name again as he carried her down the hallway toward her bedroom.

“Spike.”

“Yeah, pet?” he asked, even though she probably wouldn’t reply. She took him by surprise though when her hold to him tightened and she began sniffing him.

“Mmmm, smell goooood.”

The little sigh of content that followed her compliment made him smile. Even drunk she was adorable. “Anythin’ else you like `bout me?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she answered as he sat down on the bed with her perched on his lap.

He successfully extracted her limbs from her coat then slid her shoes off before pulling the blankets back. Her arms found their way around him again as he stood and prepared to put her to bed. After gently laying her down, readying to move away, she tugged on his neck until they were almost cheek to cheek and whispered something unexpected.

“Lips.”

His entire body froze except for his head. He immediately pulled back to face her, only an inch away from her mouth when asking, “`Scuse me?” He didn’t just hear the word ‘lips’… did he? She couldn’t possibly be in her right mind no matter what they said about drunks and the truth.

“Spike lips.” With her eyes still closed, she began nuzzling his face and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Mmmmm.... lips of Spike.”

Stunned beyond belief, he didn’t even have a chance to recover when she kissed him again, and again, urging him with her arms and little moans to kiss her back.

He remained motionless, in a state of complete shock, allowing her lips to play across his while trying his hardest not to respond but bloody hell, she was making it incredibly difficult for him to resist. And when she tilted her head to the side, her tongue sliding out to tease him into joining her, he broke. For a brief moment he was lost, couldn’t help himself and simply gave in.

They shared small, tentative licks in a slow exploration of one another’s taste and texture, testing how good it felt when their tongues mirrored the other’s movements, matching perfectly. It was so soft and so very sweet, so far from being the harsh, passion-filled fusing of mouths he’d imagined it would be. That’s when he pulled away from her, intense guilt like he’d never known flooding his system.

He shouldn’t have taken advantage of her, even so much as a kiss, not when she was so vulnerable. Even if her subconscious was telling him right now that she wanted him, she would still never do this when sober.

Frustrated, guilt ridden yet moved by this tiny woman all at the same time, he silently wondered wha’s it gonna take, but more importantly, what has she done to me? He ignored her whimpers of protest when removing her arms from his neck and tucked the covers up under her chin. Giving her a light kiss on the forehead, he whispered, “Goodnight, sweet girl,” and left her room.

Saturday………

“God, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Buffy groaned, shuffling her way into the kitchen around ten o’clock. She rubbed her temples in small circles which were pounding from the worst hangover she’d had in years.

“Look like it, too, luv,” Spike laughed when she glared at him as if to say ‘don’t start with me’.

She looked like a mess, still wearing the same clothes from last night with the sleep tangled hair, her red halter top all wrinkled and raccoon eyes from her smudged mascara. But to him, she was a beautiful mess. He found it rather funny she would even come out looking like this in front of him when most of the time, she took great pride in her appearance. But it also made him happy that she felt comfortable enough around him not to worry about her looks.

He’d prepared for her to feel the effects from drinking last night and set about making pancakes and strong black coffee. As he assumed, she went straight for the cupboard for a bottle of Tylenol, so he handed her some water while she leaned against the counter.

“Thanks.” Taking the glass, she quickly downed two tablets before asking, “So did you put me to bed? Because I definitely don’t remember getting there myself or-” she scrunched her forehead in thought. “-even the ride home, come to think of it.”

“Had to.” Turning his attention to dishing out breakfast for the both of them, he explained why. “It was either that or leave you on the couch since you weren’ able to walk, bein’ passed out and all.”

“Thanks.” She realized had he just left her on the couch, she might have woken up with stiff muscles in addition to her headache.

Spike was a bit surprised that’s all she had to say. He half expected her to ask him if he’d ‘done anything’ to her… even if he actually had. But thank God she didn’t remember the kiss. It was bad enough he wasn’t able to forgive himself for his weak moment, but if she had remembered it, too, she probably wouldn’t forgive him either, didn’t matter if she’d actually been the one to initiate it.

“Uhmm, I hope you’re not expecting me to eat that.” She grimaced at the sight of what Spike was doing to the flapjacks.

“`S the perfect thing for you right now. It’ll soak up the acid and the sugar will help to settle your stomach.” He layered three pancakes with an ample amount of brown sugar on top of each then poured a half cup of straight black coffee over top.

“Ewww. Looks disgusting.”

“Trust me,” was all he said as he steered a reluctant Buffy by the elbow to sit down at the table and set her plate in front of her. “`S not as bad as it looks. Taste’s sorta like molasses.”

“Fine. But if I don’t like it after the first bite, I’m not eating it.”

He smiled at her grumbling; knowing she’d not only like it, but it was a good remedy for a hangover. And as predicted, before he even sat down with his own plate, she was humming in bliss around her fork.

“See?”

“Myeah, myeah,” she said with her mouthful. “So you’re, mmm-this-is-good, right.” Cutting up another piece, she looked up in time to see him smirk and gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you… again.”

“You’re welcome, pet. Can’ have you sick when we’re supposed to be watchin’ your show all day.”

After he said that and winked at her, she realized she’d forgotten all about Blood Ties. “Oh-my-God! We are so starting the moment I get out of the shower.”

Ughh! That’s another thing he expected. He only hoped the show had some redeeming qualities about it so he could get through watching it without falling asleep.

~~~*~~~

Since it was a lazy day they’d planned, Buffy chose to wear flannel pajamas and Spike a simple pair of grey sweatpants along with a plain white T-shirt. They bundled themselves up on the couch under the same blanket and brought out plenty of pillows to keep themselves comfortable.

Halfway through episode number five entitled ‘Deadly Departed’, Spike actually found himself intrigued with the development of the show. The writers had done an excellent job at setting up elements behind the basic premise of the show that would provide plenty of future intrigue and angst. He was about to ask Buffy a question when her cell phone suddenly rang. He hit ‘pause’ when she said it was Willow and had to take the call.

“Hello?” Within two seconds she had to hold the phone away from her ear as Willow chattered a mile a minute and loudly, too. “Slow down, slow down, Will, jeez. Now what’s going on?”

Spike watched as Buffy’s face lit up and she ‘squee’d’ like a teenager, saying things like ‘yes’ and ‘of course I will’.

“So when’s the big day and when do I need to be there?” After a short pause, she replied, “Consider it done.” Pause. “You bet, and again, congratulations.” Pause. “Bye, Will.”

“Wha’s all the excitement?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful news,” she gushed. “Oz, Willow’s longtime boyfriend, finally popped the question and they’re getting married this fall. She’s asked me to be the Maid of Honor.”

“Tha’s great.” When she started elaborating on the subject though, he interrupted her. “Tha’s all real nice, pet, but can we please go back to watchin’ the show?”

“Why, William Giles. Are you actually enjoying Blood Ties?” She still couldn’t get over the fact he was interested in it at all.

“Truthfully? Yeah. Aside from the occasional drool that escapes your mouth over the undead git, I think `s good.”

Smiling at him deviously, she inquired, “Jealous?”

“Pfft, hardly. `M way more handsome and have somethin’ he doesn’t,” he replied, jutting his bottom lip out slightly, knowing she seemed to have a weakness for it. Hey, he wasn’t above using whatever, ahem, ‘innocent’ means at his disposal to get her to focus back on him.

“And what’s that, Mr. Pouty?” She brushed her thumb over that luscious lip when it stuck out like a child’s. Ooops, probably shouldn’t have done that. But it was soooo damn irresistible. She just hoped he didn’t think too much of it.

He grabbed her hand and in a sensual caress, kissed the inside of her wrist before answering her with a wink. “A pulse.”

All Buffy could think after feeling the gentle brush of his mouth against that sensitive patch of skin was another thing he had in common with Henry, though she’d never tell him… thrall.

~~~*~~~

A few hours later, Spike ordered out for pizza when they got hungry so they didn’t have to cook. Shortly before their food was delivered, though, his new telescope happened to arrive and Buffy half expected him to abandon their ‘marathon’ in favor of setting up his new toy. But to her surprise, he just shoved the heavy box aside and climbed right back on the couch with her, telling her to ‘hit play’.

Time flied as they watched season one, almost without taking any breaks at all both of them were that engrossed in the series. So much so, it wasn't until episode eleven when Buffy began yawning that Spike realized it was nearing midnight and he was feeling sleepy as well.

Grabbing the remote, he paused the DVD player. “Do you wanna wait and continue this tomorrow?”

“Huh?” She looked at him confused. “No, of course not. The next one after this is the season finale.”

“You look like you’re `bout to fall asleep.”

“Nah-uh,” she protested and tried to stifle another yawn. “I really wanna finish so we can start season two tomorrow, pleeeeeeease?”

He sighed in defeat at her whining. Bloody hell she was going to be the death of him. “`S your call. But since my muscles are a mite stiff, why don’ we get more comfortable. I gotta cramp in my arse from sittin’ for so long.”

“As in how?” She watched as he moved over to lean his back against the armrest then motioned for her to sit between his legs. “Uhmm, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

Rolling his eyes before staring at her with a look of annoyance, he asked, “`Cause you have a boyfriend, right?”

“Angel is not my boyfriend. I’m just seeing him, dating him. Big difference there.” Boyfriend implied commitment and she was so not committed. In truth, she hadn’t particularly liked it when Angel tried to kiss her or hug her. It felt like he was… rushing things. And now that she thought about it, she really wasn’t comfortable with him for that reason. Not like she was with Spike and the kisses he…

Whoa… She was stunned that her mind just went down that road, and with such ease. But neither could she deny it was true. She was more comfortable around Spike than she was -or ever had been- with anyone else, even if only recently because of his change in behavior towards her. Plus it hadn’t been until he’d mentioned Angel that she even thought about or remembered him. Oh God, she moaned to herself. If that isn’t a sign that she truly wasn’t interested in the brunette, she didn’t know what was. By all accounts he was a great guy, should be everything she’d want but… there just didn’t seem to be anything ‘there’ on her end as far as chemistry went. And his pushiness in the touchy-feely department certainly didn’t help as far as trying to win her affection.

“Then wha’s the problem? `S not like `m gonna try anythin’.” And wow, just to hear her say that about Angelus? Maybe he did stand a chance with her. Not right now of course, but in the future, anything was possible.

She regarded his words and facial expression for a moment and thought, what the hell. Not only was he right, but she believed his vow not to try any funny business.

Spike bit back a triumphant smile as she crawled in between his legs and settled her back against his chest, even allowing him to go so far as to wrap his arms loosely around her waist after adjusting the blanket to cover them both.

“You’re right, this is more comfy. You make a great pillow.” And oh God, there went that tingly feeling inside when his laughter rumbled through her body. But she told herself this was a good thing they were this easy going with each other as she settled her hands near his and asked him to hit play. Before he did, however, he asked her a question.

“If you fall asleep, do you want me to let you stay here or wake you to go to your room?”

A part of her wanted to test her theory, and him, that she could trust him now, especially when remembering what happened in Florida. So before she could chicken out, she answered, “You can leave me here, but only if you stay with me.”

Taken completely aback, he compensated his shock with a joke. “Uhmm, who are you and what have you done with my roommate?” She swatted his arm while giggling then brought up the last thing he could have predicted, albeit with teasing sarcasm.

“What, all of a sudden the need for human touch isn’t so important anymore?” It was important to her. She had no choice but to admit that the night she’d spent in his arms not only felt wonderful, but also provided her with a restful sleep. And despite her vow she wouldn’t make it a habit; her intuition that Spike would be a gentleman about this had changed her mind. So she’d give him an inch. But if he took it a mile… she’d simply go medieval on his ass then move out and into to any apartment she could find pronto, no matter how crumby it was.

“`S very important,” he said somewhat seriously. “`Sides… if `s what you want, what makes you happy then how could I say no?” Indeed, how could he deny her anything?

“Thank you.”

“Anythin’ for you, kitten,” he whispered after kissing the top of her head and hit ‘play’ before she could respond. And he knew in that moment it was true. He would do anything to make her happy. Sure, he’d gotten to her during one of her ‘grey-area’ moments, but that ‘zone’ no longer meant anything to him, only her.

~~~*~~~

Sunday.........

Waking up in a daze at the break of dawn, Buffy discovered that she’d wrapped herself tightly around Spike. But rather than be freaked out as she slowly became more and more aware of their positions, she found herself feeling content as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Their bodies had slid down the couch until he was on his back and she lay on one side of him, both their arms firmly encircling each other while she nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. She chose to ignore the fact her thigh had crept up to rest on top of his and merely pulled it away… very carefully. It seemed placing her trust in him had turned out to be a good decision despite her leg being the traitorous limb in this tangle of body parts.

“Mmmm, you awake, pet?” Though he’d barely just cracked an eye open, his body registered hers holding onto him and the fact the TV screen was black with the word ‘DVD’ in a blue ball floating across the screen, bumping into the sides of the square frame to head in another direction like the old Atari game Pong. He figured they both must have fallen asleep before the season finale finished playing out.

She raised her head to meet the beautiful blue of his sleep-filled gaze and smiled. “I woke up about a minute ago.”

“Think we missed the last episode,” he stated while watching her with curiosity as she covered her mouth before responding.

“Yeah, no biggie, we were both tired.”

“What are you doin’?”

“Major morning halitosis. Don’t want my dragon breath to kill you.”

“Got eye boogers, too.”

“Uhh,” she gasped, mortified as she frantically wiped at her eyes with her free hand while he tilted his head back and laughed.

“I was jus’ teasin, pet.”

“Ohhh, you…”

She lightly slapped his shoulder but he only laughed harder when seeing the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile from beneath her palm. After he’d sufficiently calmed down, he gently placed a hand on her head and pulled it to rest against his chest. “Don’ know `bout you, but I feel another hour or two of kip callin’ me. Whaddya say? Or would you prefer we get up and I’ll make breakfast?”

Wow, how… considerate of him, giving her options that no matter which one she chose sounded fantastic? It didn’t take her long to make up her mind after looking at the clock. “More sleep, then I’ll help you make breakfast if you want?”

It was just what he wanted to hear. “Okay, luv.” He ran his hand over her hair, pushing the loose strands away from her face before resting on her waist again, enjoying the sound of her sleepy hum of approval. Closing his eyes, he felt her shift to plant a quick peck on his jaw then tuck her head back under his chin.

~~~*~~~

Both blonds made a big affair out of breakfast, with Spike helping Buffy not to burn anything in the process, naturally. By the time they’d finished and eaten the multitude of dishes they’d made - from fruit-topped French toast to bacon and cheese omelettes along with hash browns - they were ready to fall back asleep their bellies were so full.

But after taking their turns in the shower, it was straight back to the couch, in comfortable frumpy clothes and under the blanket all snuggled up. If one were a fly on the wall, it was a picture of the perfect couple… not friends, not roommates or co-workers, but lovers. Only thing was, it was as platonic as it could be despite the underlying sexual tension, which both had somehow shoved aside completely, discovering what they were doing now to be much more important… bonding.

Right in the middle of the episode entitled ‘Wild Blood’ when Mike had come to Vicky for help and Henry sat on the side drawing his next ‘graphic novel’, Spike paused it.

“I don’ get it.”

“Don’t get what?” Buffy shifted from between his legs to sit halfway on his thigh and face him.

“I mean `s obvious that Henry and Vicky want each other, so I don’ understand why they jus’ don’ get together.”

Now this was a subject Buffy could argue fairly over, which is what she did. Spike would fire off questions about the non-relationship ‘relationship’ they had and she would come right back at him to defend Vicky.

“What good would it do for her to get involved, especially when it comes to her feelings? He’s going to outgrow her, outlive her, wind up with other women eventually so why bother putting herself through the heartache? That’s what she’s thinking.”

“I understand your point, luv, but carpe diem. `S a sad thing to wander through life with a bag full `f ‘what ifs’. If she doesn’ take the risk, she may miss out on the greatest love she’ll ever know. She should stop thinkin’ so much and throw caution to the wind.”

“What about Mike, though? He may be the great love of her life, even though they technically aren’t together now. And the thing of it is, they’re still friends, which is what a relationship really boils down to, not sex.”

“Although I beg to differ that sex `s a very important aspect `f a relationship, I do agree with you on that one.” His brows knit together in confusion when she started laughing out loud. “What?”

Between giggles, she told him, “I can’t believe you, of all people just said that.”

“What, that I agreed with you?”

Shaking her head, she gave him a lopsided grin so he didn’t take her too seriously and really cause an argument. “How can you say that when you’ve never even been in a relationship before? You said it yourself you tell women upfront not to expect anything more,” she backed herself up by recalling his own words. “So, I’m guessing that means friendship as well.”

Bloody hell did she ever have a legitimate point, but it wasn’t as if he couldn’t imagine it, especially if it was with her. “Well,” he began cautiously, trying to figure out how best to put it. “You and I have a working relationship, a friendship and even if we slept together, I wouldn’ wanna cease bein’ either.” He knew he wouldn’t… but would she?

That stopped her dead in her tracks. “Uhmm… I’m not… I’m not sure how to respond to that. W-what I mean is that yeah, I… We’re more victims of circumstance… living together, working together, but as for sleeping together and maintaining a daily routine as if it didn’t happen? That just wouldn’t work, not with me anyway and certainly not with Vicky and Henry.”

That ‘victims of circumstance’ bit stung. She might have convinced herself of that, but he didn’t believe in coincidence. However she chose to view it, though, didn’t matter to him. He wasn’t going to give up on her, not a snowball’s chance in hell.

“I jus’ think Vicky needs to take a walk on the wild side. `S not like Henry would abandon her. And Mike’s a right Nancy-boy anyway.” But he couldn’t stop from drawing parallels between the show’s characters and himself… with Buffy. On one hand, he was Mike, but without the prior sexual history the bloke had with Vicky, in this case, Buffy. On the other, he identified himself more with Henry. Henry knew what he wanted, went out and took it. Not only that, but when it came to Vicky - to Buffy - like Henry, he held back, waiting for her to make the decision, all the while dropping innuendos to entice her, convince her and… bloody hell! He didn’t want to talk about it anymore and certainly didn’t want to think about it. All he knew, all he cared about was that Buffy was here with him right now and he was enjoying himself and their time together. No way was he going to screw it up over some debate on a fictional series.

“I’ll admit that contrary to what I’ve said, I’m rooting for Vicky to be with Henry.”

She snapped him out of his thoughts with the last thing he expected her to say. “You do?” he asked, bowled over by her declaration. “But, why?” Smirking at him, she ruffled his un-gelled locks.

“There’s just something about bad boys,” she sighed and dropped her hand in her lap, looking off in the distance as she spoke. “All that dark, sinister attraction… getting yourself into something you’re not sure about, but the ride seems so thrilling that it’s too hard to resist? Well-” she looked back him and smiled. “-at least on TV. It’s my way of seeing what would happen without actually doing it myself.” She knew the second that came out of her mouth she’d basically made a personal confession. Hiding a gulp of nervousness, she quickly sunk back into her originally position and prayed he didn’t pick up on it.

Oh, but he did. He could easily have her cornered in on herself and bound by her own words, condemned. But he let it go without saying a word. Yup, seems he did have every reason to keep hoping, keep waiting… thanks to that little crumb.

~~~*~~~

Late in the afternoon, they were finally into watching the unaired episodes and Buffy was glued to the telly which Spike found utterly cute. What he wasn’t aware of was that she’d been thinking on their discussion from earlier and what it meant.

She wasn’t so stupid that she didn’t know they were, in a way, discussing themselves and not just the show. The problem lay in what Spike had said, that he wouldn’t want to stop working with her or being her friend if they had sex. What did that mean coming from a man who’d never seen the women he slept with the day after, or, ‘ever’ for that matter. Did he actually care for her? In a way he’d never been capable of with anyone else? Was she his first ‘real’ female friend? Did she consider him a friend even though they were shoved together in every way imaginable by accident?

She tried to shake those thoughts, the questions, the numerous answers each could have but it was tough, especially when thinking about her tragic past relationship and the present one she couldn’t precisely define with Spike. Angel didn’t even enter into the picture. She was seeing him because he was handsome, charming and polite, but, that was it. With Spike however, she had… funny feelings and he was currently confusing her outlook on him. It wasn’t black or white like it was in the beginning when they’d first met. He was treating her really nice these days, and, she liked it. What she didn’t like was not knowing exactly where things stood with him, what he thought of her that had brought on this change in him. Was it that he was no longer interested in her as a woman despite what he’d said earlier?

Gathering a little courage, okay, a ton, she decided to ask Spike a cringe-worthy question and pray it wasn’t a bad idea.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?”

“If I ever… said yes, you know… offered myself to you… like, right now. Would you do it? Take me up on it?”

Spike nearly dropped the remote in the process to pause the show she’d thrown him for such a loop with that question. What in God’s name made her decide to ask that when she should know the answer? Didn't she realize how gorgeous she was, how grateful he'd be if she were to actually give him a chance? It was then he noticed she was trembling ever so slightly as she sat there with her head looking straight at the telly, waiting for him to answer.

“You bloody well know I would, Buffy. Why?” He used two fingers to gently turn her head to face him and tried to lighten the mood by letting his cocky side come out. “Are you offerin’?”

“No,” she said softly, her features holding no expression whatsoever. “I-I was just... curious.”

Jus’ curious. Hmmmm. He doubted that or she never would have asked, but it was also clear she wasn’t propositioning him either. Why had she asked though, that was the question?

He tipped her chin up with his fingers so she had to look him in the eyes. “Settin’ all my teasin’ aside… I want you to listen. I was instantly attracted to you when I first met you. You’re beautiful, Buffy. You must know that, right?” She began shaking her head but he grabbed her chin and refused to let her say no in any way, shape or form. “You. Are. And now that I know you better I think you’re fuckin’ amazin’. Bloody gorgeous inside and out. There isn’t anythin’ I wouldn’t give to...”

He paused to ponder at his own feelings while she held a mental breath, wondering if he was going to finish that sentence and what he would tell her.

“If you… and I,” he suddenly coughed, trying to cover up his nervousness like it was no big deal. “No matter what you think, I do respect you and I wouldn’ treat you differently afterward.” Then he paused, forehead crinkling as he tilted his head, deep in thought. “I take that back, actually. I’d treat you better, like the lady you are and I’d… I’d make it very special. For you.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “I just wondered. And I appreciate your answer... your honesty. But you know it’ll never happen,” she added for good measure.

“Yeah,” he sighed, partly from relief she accepted his answer, partly out of frustration but wrapped his arms back around her waist regardless and gave her a quick squeeze for a hug. “I know.”

She snuggled in even closer to him after he hit ‘play’ again and laid her hands on his, lightly intertwining their fingers. Yeah, she was pretty sure he was growing some kind of feelings for her, the trouble was it scared her as much as it made her stomach start fluttering when wondering… could a tiger really change its stripes?

Con’t from last chapter………

After they’d finished watching the entire series, with constant commentaries from both blonds, Buffy prayed out loud there’d be a season three next year. Even Spike admitted he hoped so too, because he wanted to see Vicky and Henry ‘shag like crazy’, making Buffy punch his shoulder, giggling despite agreeing with him.

As she got off the couch to head in to the kitchen, Spike immediately felt the loss of her heat without her in his embrace, but what could he do? There were no more episodes left to watch.

“I’m gonna reheat some pizza. You want some?” she asked.

“Sure. Meanwhile-” he jumped up and headed straight for the box containing his telescope. “-`m gonna set this up.”

“OH! Can we use it tonight?” It’d been difficult that one evening for her to focus in on which exact stars or constellation he was indicating when all he could do was point and wait for her to find it, so his new toy would make it a whole lot easier.

“Don’ see why not, `s a clear night and all. But as for stayin’ up late, not so sure tha’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

She walked over to him with her bottom lip sticking out and bloody hell but he wanted to kiss that pout away. “We have work tomorrow. Have to be up early.” He stood after opening the box and put his hands on his hips, groaning internally from the deepening of that delectable pout.

“But I wanna see and you promised. It’s just one night and we can go to bed early tomorrow,” she offered, bouncing on her toes, eyes glittering like a child’s.

Shaking his head in amusement, he asked, “Does it really mean that much to you?” He secretly hoped so, elated at the thought this might be something else they could share a common interest in and therefore spend more time together.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease?”

Unable to keep from smiling at the way she practically begged, he caved. “Alright, kitten.” She clapped her hands together, grinning excitedly and it really hit him hard… he truly would do whatever was within his power to make her smile like that, whatever made her happy. Anythin’ for her… yeah, `m buggered. So after setting his instrument up with the tripod planted low so they could sit on the small bench outside while using it, he came inside to quickly wolf down his pizza because the sun had already set three hours ago.

They’d both bundled up in their warmest jackets before heading outdoors, but as the crisp winter breeze hit Buffy’s face, she knew she couldn’t stand out here for more than thirty minutes before the chill would get to her. The only way she could, would be if she were in the Jacuzzi’s hot water and since that option was out of the question, she told Spike she’d be back in a flash, knowing exactly what was needed to keep them both warm.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled absentmindedly as he stared through the eye piece, taking his time to carefully adjust the lens until it was positioned perfectly on the eastern horizon. He checked his watch so he would know which stars would be rising then sat down, waiting impatiently for Buffy who was taking far longer than she’d said to return.

Coming back out to the balcony with a couple of blankets in her arms, the bundle big enough to almost hide her, she asked, “Stand up, please?”

Obliging her request, he was grateful that she laid one down on the bench because his arse was already starting to freeze. She draped the second around her shoulders, sat down, then bent over to grab a cord he didn’t see hanging from the bottom of the blanket and plugged it into the outlet before hitting a button that glowed orange.

“An electric blanket?” At her cheerful nod, he complimented her. “Bloody brilliant `f you, luv.” Even though he didn’t mind the cold, he had to admit he didn’t know how long he’d actually last given tonight’s temperature made his bones feel brittle.

“Well? You gonna join me?”

She raised her arm, her hand holding the corner of the blanket out towards him, suggesting they share it which he was more than thrilled to join her, be so close to her again. “Definitely.” Sidling up against her, he wound an arm around her waist, meeting her hand to help her hold the blanket in place then instructed her, “Go ahead, look through the lens.”

“Oh, wow! Spike, this is unbelievable!!!”

A proud smile overtook his features as he watched the little white puffs of breath escape her mouth while she rambled on in broken sentences.

“… see this much, I mean everything’s so clear and-and bright, big. Just… wow!” Pulling her head back to turn and look at him, she found something else that was equally just as ‘wow’. The way he was staring at her… head cocked to the side, lips forming a soft smile to reveal how happy he truly was over her reaction, and those baby blues. Her pulse quickened at how expressive those eyes were as they locked with hers, so attuned it seemed to her thoughts as he reflected them back at her. It was almost too intense but she found herself unable to look away. Thrall, her inner voice whispered. But since humans didn’t possess that ability, it had to be that she was the one who became enthralled from simply looking at them. And what they conveyed overwhelmed her… that he not only understood the gravity of her newfound appreciation and the accompanying awe of seeing the heavens like this, but shared in it with her as if it were his first time as well.

The light squeeze he gave to her waist when she mirrored his smile made her stutter when she tried to speak again. “A-after seeing this… th-the sky I mean, I understand your fascination. For-the-stars, the-consolations,” she rushed to add.

“Constellations, pet.” He kept himself from chuckling at her incorrect choice of word. She always managed to get them all mixed up at the most unusual times, but he found it charm-fully cute, yet one more thing he absolutely adored about her.

“R-right, constellations is what I, I meant.” With her cheeks turning crimson despite the frosty air, she couldn’t scold him or herself for mangling the English language. The man had a knack for distracting her from thinking straight sometimes. Collecting herself quickly, she told him what she thought of it all, both the stars and his eyes, though he’d never know that was part of her compliment. “They’re really… beautiful,” she said wistfully.

He noticed the moment her gaze took on a different, almost dreamy quality, staring deeper it seemed, into his eyes. He had to fight the urge to lean forward and capture her lips to show her just how she made him feel, to see if maybe, just maybe she felt the same way, too. But rejection wasn’t something he could handle, not now with her here like this and especially not after the wonderful weekend they’d spent together. So he silently prayed she could see it for herself.

Something in the distance suddenly caught her attention and she practically shouted while pointing. “Look quick!” He whipped his head in the direction she indicated in time to see a falling star, its bright tail fading out within seconds before it was gone completely. “A shooting star. Make a wish.”

Giving her a sidelong glance, he asked, “You don’ actually believe in that rubbish, do you?”

Indifferent to his opinion, she shrugged at him. “Suit yourself. I know what I’m wishing for.”

“That stuff’s for kids, Buffy, not adults.”

“Maybe… maybe not. Just remember, it was you who said it’s a sad thing to wander through life with a bag full of what ifs. Well, Mr. Genius-” she said playfully. “-what if you make a wish and it happens to come true? What will you say then?”

Cocking his head, he regarded her logic that she so conveniently backed up by using his own words against him. And though the very notion was naïve, he definitely had a wish in mind, so what could it hurt? After all, the worst that could happen was that it wouldn’t come true. “Point taken,” he replied, deciding to indulge her by going along with it. “Count me in.”

“Good,” she chirped, then grabbed his hand to hold it in hers while instructing him. “Now, let’s both close our eyes and take a few seconds to make our wishes, okay?” Now all she had to do was concentrate on phrasing her wish just right and ignore how he clasped her waist a little tighter after she’d grabbed his hand.

Bloody hell he wanted to roll his eyes, but the feel of holding her close and the fact she wanted him to do this with her, well, what could he do but give in? “Got it.”

“Here we go.”

As soon as she closed her eyes and faced the spot where they saw the star fall, he did the same… then made his wish…

The chance to spend more evenings with her like the last two, more specifically last night.

The past couple of days had turned into something he never expected, never even knew he wanted until it happened, to be able to spend so much time with her, holding her, absorbing her warmth, her scent, joking with her, the playful arguments, the small touches they shared here and there, snuggling with her… everything.

Last night in particular had been the most special to him though, when she lay sleeping in his arms for the entire evening. It felt far more intimate to him than anything he’d ever experienced before with a woman and he didn’t have that awful empty feeling like he did after physically being with some random bird… quite the opposite in fact. Even though there was nothing remotely sexual about their night together, he woke to a feeling of pure contentment… a sense of fulfillment, thus, the reason for his wish.

What was it about Miss Buffy Summers that brought out things from deep within him, feelings he’d never experienced, didn’t know he was even capable of until he’d met her? He wasn’t sure and the answers didn’t seem all that important right now, he just wanted more of it, more of her and hoped she did as well. If only they’d see another shooting star, he would make that his second wish, that she’d want the same as him.

Little did he know, her wish wasn’t too far off from that.

During the silence while their eyes were closed, Buffy made her wish… that a tiger could change its stripes. Sure, she was technically ‘dating’ someone, but she wasn’t officially ‘with’ Angel, so her thoughts didn’t have to be monogamous, right? And it was only a wish, a hope, but when it came true… if it comes true, well, she wasn’t quite sure how she would handle it. The last few days he’d shown her a completely different side of him that wasn’t the Spike she’d come to know, and the crazy part of it was she actually found herself wanting to explore that side.

Now she could definitely identify with Vicky when it came to Henry, and perhaps like Vicky, it scared her to take a risk that involved her heart, especially if this wasn’t the real William. Yet here she’d made her wish, had even gotten him to make one, too, and all because of a comment he’d made that stuck with her… what if.

~~~*~~~

“So what am I looking at?” Buffy asked while staring through the eye piece once more. And as Spike rattled off which stars were visible in relation to each other, she knew she’d never remember them all. But they each took turns gazing at the sky every half hour or so with Buffy dutifully trying to take in everything he told her like an eager pupil.

Quite some time passed as they kept doing this before she slumped back and yawned. Pulling the blanket tighter around her body, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Tell me more stories, please? About the constellations.” She felt Spike turn his head to look down at her, but she stayed where she was, soaking up the heat from both the blanket and him.

And as Spike smiled down at what was obviously a very tired Buffy, he took this last opportunity of the weekend to tug her even closer to him, resting his cheek on the top of her head and began telling her another mythological story of the zodiacal constellation of Virgo.

“Accordin’ to the ancient poets, the virgin is also sometimes known as Astraea. She lived on Earth durin’ the Golden Age of man. If you follow the pattern of the Big Dipper’s ladle, drawin’ an arc in the southern skies, you’ll discover an unusually bright star. This is the first magnitude star Arcturus `f the Herdsmen constellation. If you extend the arc further, you will again see a very bright star. This is the first magnitude star Spica… `f Virgo. Spica represents stalks `f wheat and barley, as a beautiful goddess is carryin’ those stalks in her left hand. The myth of Virgo is the fertility story of a goddess. In response to the pleadin’ of the sad and grievin’ goddess Demeter, whose daughter was carried away to hell, known as Hades to the ancient Greeks, Zeus forced the god of hell, Pluto, to return the daughter. However, because the daughter ate the fruit of four pomegranates given out by Pluto, she was forced to live in hell four months out `f every year. Durin’ such times, Demeter kept herself holed up in a cavern out `f distress, so that the plants on earth withered, bringin’ the onset of winter.”

Despite hearing the first of Buffy’s light snores, he still continued to elaborate on the story, not yet ready to let go of her. By the time he finished, she was clearly out for the count, so adorably curled up, her face totally relaxed in sleep. He carefully unplugged the cord to the blanket and wrapping her small frame up in it, carried her inside and down the hallway to her bedroom. There was nothing more that he wanted than to retire to the couch and spend another night with her in his arms, but thought it unwise because she hadn’t requested it.

In her room, he held her tight while pulling back the covers to her bed with one hand, then by some miracle, removed the blanket and coat off her without disturbing her slumber and lay her down upon the sheets, thanking the Lord she was still in her pajamas. He tucked her in as gently as possible, intending not to wake her but it happened anyway. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked puzzled for a moment before her eyes focused on him.

“Relax, kitten, `m jus’ puttin’ you to bed. You fell asleep outside `bout twenty minutes ago.” He sounded slightly apologetic, but there was no guilt in his voice as they both knew he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Cognizant now, she remembered hearing something about Virgo and stalks of wheat before she must have dozed off. And now, taking in what he was doing for her, she was touched by the tenderness and consideration Spike showed by putting her to bed instead of jolting her awake to make her go by herself. She gave him a warm smile as he finished tucking her in, the low wattage of her bedside lamp the only thing illuminating his handsome face. Once he finished, he leaned down to kiss her forehead then prepared to turn her light off before she whispered his name and spontaneously reached out to still his arm.

Looking at her, a twinge of confusion marred his features, unable to read in her eyes whatever she was thinking. He knew she was relaxed and not upset with him for bringing her to her room despite the ground rules concerning privacy they’d agreed upon, so what was it she wanted to say? And then she did something that stunned him more than if she’d slapped him.

Propping herself up on one elbow, she cupped his check gently and pulled him in for a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth before saying ‘thank you’ then laid back down. They exchanged soft smiles and he nodded, giving her a sincere ‘you’re welcome’ before shutting off the light then leaving her room.

The kiss was too short to be intimate but too long to be considered just friendly either. And though she’d initiated it, he’d made no attempt to deepen what probably would have been the most mind blowing kiss she’d ever experienced since she left herself open for him to do just that. But regardless of the fact he didn’t, she decided in that moment that she had to end things with Angel. The last few days spent with Spike had proved to her how little she cared about the Irishman when it came to the tingles of excitement that ran through her body whenever Spike was near her, touched her, held her.

She feared she was falling into… ‘like’ with him, and knowing it may not be the wisest idea, she could at least admit it. No good could come from it, however, if she fell any deeper and he didn’t reciprocate her feelings, so she had to guard herself against it as best she could. Too many ‘what ifs’ were involved here and most of them depended on him. She needed to remain strong, keep her emotions at bay in order to buy her the time to know for sure if he felt the same way and to prepare herself for the possible ‘no good’ that would result should he still be the Spike she’d known from the beginning. Just the mere thought that his behavior could be nothing more than a façade put on for the sole purpose of bedding her made her heart constrict in her chest. She pushed the thought away, hoping it wasn’t true but knowing only time would tell.

~~~*~~~

Spike went out to the balcony, making sure to bring the other blanket inside as well as his telescope. It was nearly two AM now, and as much as he loathed knowing how difficult it would be to wake up tomorrow morning, he wouldn’t have traded a single second he’d spent with Buffy this evening just for a good night’s sleep.

As he retired to his room, he wondered if she really was starting to see him in a different light or if it was just wishful thinking on his part. She certainly acted differently around him now, being more open, more trusting. Perhaps she was recognizing him for who he truly was.

But who was he now and how did he get here? He certainly wasn’t the guy she’d first met, that was a given. He’d experienced changes within himself, his attitude, outlook; even his patience had grown… tremendously, and from his personal perspective, the man he used to be seemed shallow in comparison. So what if she was the reason for his transformation? All he knew was that for the first time in his life, he felt what it was like to really long for someone, not just want or crave them, and because of that, he genuinely felt no remorse leaving his old self behind.

His last thought before drifting off to sleep was the hope that he did indeed become the man she deserved, and the one she wanted in her life… for keeps.

Monday………

“So… do you want to ride into work with me this morning?” Buffy asked casually as she came walking into the kitchen. She realized now how ridiculous she must seem to him, not ever wanting to share a cab with him even though their destination was the same. Well, except in the beginning when she had legitimate reasons to stay away from him by any means within her control. But that, like everything else, had changed in the last few days.

Spike had barely taken a sip of his coffee when he spit it back out and looked up at her in astonishment. “A-hem,” he cleared his throat then smirked as he jested, “Not to be rude, luv, but are you sure you’re feelin’ alright?”

“I’m fine. I just thought that...” Maybe he didn’t want to since they were so used to going their separate ways. “Never mind, I-I understand if you don’t want to. Forget I asked.”

“No-no, `m good with it, jus’… surprised is all.” Huh! Well this was certainly… different from the usual ‘good morning’ he received whenever they sat and had coffee together before splitting up and making their own way to the office. What he found more shocking, other than the question itself, was how shy she was acting about it. “Think `m gonna have an extra cup `f java before we leave, though,” he added with a smile as she sat down with her own cup.

“Okay. And hey, if we continue to share rides, we’ll save money. Er, at least I do… rich-boy.” The mood was immediately lightened when he chuckled, easing her tension. She wasn’t a stealthy kind of person, but wanted to engage him in small acts, things like riding together, maybe have lunch together today - rules were made to be broken anyway, even her own - as a way of slowly exploring this ‘new’ side of him. It was all she could think of to see if he’d legitimately turned over a new leaf.

Aside from requiring a little extra caffeine before heading into work, Spike also needed a couple of Tylenol. Maybe it was spending most of the weekend perched on the couch or sitting last night for so long out on the balcony, but whichever it was, the muscles along his spine were killing him.

Unbeknownst to him, Buffy saw him down the medicine and looked at him with concern while he rubbed the lower portion of his back.

~~~*~~~

Other than going over Buffy’s weekly report and a midmorning meeting in New Jersey, Spike was glad they didn’t have much to do afterwards other than a few phone calls along with some computer work. The bumpy train ride they’d taken to the Garden State agitated his tender muscles more than he cared to admit. His plan was to sit the rest of the day in his comfortable leather chair and pray the afternoon would fly by so he could lay down at home after taking something stronger for the pain.

His plans changed drastically, however, when he and Buffy arrived back inside their office to find a vase of what looked like at least four dozen pink roses sitting on her desk. He listened to Buffy read aloud the card that came with it, a simple ‘Happy Valentine’s Day, Angel’.

Flowers, pfft! Bloody typical. Spike was fuming over the poofter’s romantic gesture so much he never noticed her reaction of throwing the card aside and sighing heavily in a manner that suggested she didn’t appreciate it.

“Huh, I never even realized it was Valentine’s Day. Guess I should call and thank him,” she said more to herself as she rolled her shoulders, bracing herself to say ‘no’ as politely as possible should he ask her to dinner tonight. This certainly mucked up her intention of telling him today that she didn’t want to see him anymore. She’d feel guilty if she did it right now after he’d gone and bought her flowers. There’s always tomorrow, she supposed as she picked up her phone to ring his office.

Spike didn’t know it was Valentine’s Day either; of course, he’d never done anything for a girl on this particular holiday, so there was really no reason for him to remember. Well, that was going to change… today! There’s a first time for everythin’, he reasoned. He wasn’t about to be outdone by Captain Forehead, plus he knew, knew this was merely a ploy of Angelus’ to ease his way into Buffy’s good graces before he tried to ease his way into her bed. Not `f I have anythin’ to say `bout it!

But what could he possibly do for her or buy to get her focused back on him and away from Angelus? He was no good at this sort of thing. Okay, setting aside getting her the Blood Ties series which was bloody brilliant of him. This needed to be more than just brilliant though, but not mushy or stereotypical. It had to be special, different, an object or action that would really mean something to her. As he sat there wracking his brain while Buffy hung up the phone and went to work on her laptop, he had another dilemma on his hands. How was he going to get this mission accomplished by today without her knowing, because it definitely had to be a surprise.

Leaning forward in his chair to open his own laptop, he hissed from a sudden twinge in his spine, causing Buffy to look over at him.

“Spike, are you alright?”

“Think I jus’ slept in the wrong position. Made me stiff.”

She didn’t entirely believe him, having noticed throughout the day he’d occasionally knead his back while grimacing when he didn’t know she’d been watching. “Listen, why don’t you go home, take something for it and lay down with a pillow under your knees. There isn’t anything here at work I can’t handle and there’s no sense in you being uncomfortable if you don’t have to.”

As he turned to her, he realized she’d just solved his problem for him, both actually. He did need to lie down, but leaving now would also give him several hours to try and come up with an idea of what to get her before she came back to the apartment.

“You don’ mind? I can stay, really, `s no-”

Pointing a parental finger at him, she cut him off. “Uh-uh, Mister. I’ve seen you rubbing your back on and off all day. Go home. I’ll be fine by myself.”

“`S that an order, Miss Summers?” he asked with a smirk while she folded her arms under her chest as if she already had her mind made up.

“It is.”

“Bossy chit.” She raised a single brow at him even though she smiled. “Orderin’ me about like I work for you instead `f the other way `round.”

Giggling, she replied, “That’s the best part. Now go to the apartment and take care of yourself. I’ll be home shortly around five thirty-ish after going to Willy’s.” Thankfully, Angel hadn’t asked her to dinner. He’d said he wanted to, but was going to be swamped with work for the next couple of days and would make it up to her later this week. Her plan remained intact though, she was still going to cut things off with him tomorrow, the sooner the better.

“Alright, `f you’re sure.” Shutting his suitcase, he got up from his chair slowly, making a face as his muscles strained to stand to his full height.

“Go. Scoot. Get out of here,” she shooed him with her hands.

“Oi, give a bloke a chance. Can’ move very fast here.” Grabbing his suit coat and jacket, he looked over his shoulder to tell her, “I’ll see you later, kitten.” After bidding her farewell, it suddenly dawned on him exactly what he could get her. I really am a bloody genius, he complimented himself while grinning ear to ear on his way to the elevator.

~~~*~~~

Spike was knocked out on the couch, still holding the gift he’d bought for Buffy by the time she came home. He never realized he’d fallen asleep or that she was there until he felt fingers running gently through his hair and heard her whispering his name.

“Spike? You awake?” He looked so peaceful as he slept that she hated to rouse him, but she was sure he’d want something to eat and she also wanted to know how he was feeling. “William?” she asked one more time as she raked her fingertips through the gelled locks on his crown, preferring it when they were loose and unruly. As he slowly opened his eyes, she smiled and sat down on the edge of the couch near his hip.

“Mmmm, hey,” he mumbled groggily before the urge to yawn overtook him. As he did, he raised his arms - from their crossed position over his chest – above his head and immediately heard Buffy gasp. Bugger! He instantly knew why she’d made that sound; he’d forgotten to put what he got her back in the box. Bloody hell, he cursed himself; he really wanted it to be a surprise.

“Uhmm… is that what I think it is?” She felt stupid the second she asked since it was blindingly obvious it was exactly what she thought it was. Looking at his face, she almost couldn’t believe her eyes when they witnessed him blushing mildly as he nodded.

“I meant for you to open your gift, but…” He trailed off while lifting his present up for her inspection. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said shyly, hoping she’d be pleased with his choice.

She clasped her hands over her mouth for another surprised gasp before reaching out to take the tiny black feline with a red silk ribbon tied around its neck. “Ohhh… oh-my-God. She… he…”

“`S a he.”

“He’s sooooo adorable!” The second the kitten opened its sleepy eyes and yawned as wide as Spike had, she melted. “Oh, William,” she said softly as she nuzzled the creature against her cheek while closing her eyes, her heart bursting with affection as he began to purr. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Jus’ wanted to get somethin’ special for my girl.” Inside he was thrilled she appeared so happy with her gift that he didn’t realize right away he’d referred to her as ‘my girl’. When he did, he was grateful she didn’t call him on it.

As she cooed at the kitten, rubbing her nose against it, she told him how sweet she thought it was to find him asleep with it curled up in his arms. Of course being a man, he’d never admit he found the little fur ball so cute that he couldn’t help but cuddle it when he lay down on the couch.

“Thank you so much. He’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome, pet.” He sat up a little higher on the couch and was about to tell her something when she leaned forward to press her lips softly against his.

Buffy didn’t even think twice about kissing him. It simply felt natural, like the right thing to do at the time because she was genuinely touched by his gift. And when he responded, kissed her back, she allowed it for a second longer than was necessary before pulling away. It was amazing what a difference the last two days made in their… well, relationship, making them feel comfortable enough with the other to simply share a kiss of gratitude and not make it out to be more than that… even if she secretly did enjoy the feel of his lips against hers.

Pointing towards the kitchen, he said, “Got the nibblet everythin’ he’ll need to be comfortable. Food, feedin’ bowls, litter box, scratchin’ post, bed, toys. And his papers are inside the box.”

“Papers?”

“He’s a purebred. Persian.”

Well that certainly explained the scrunched up nose that she found so loveable. “So why this one, other than the fact he’s a Persian?”

“Well, there was a whole litter `f them, all pure black, but when he opened his eyes, they were the same shade `f green as yours.” He shrugged, feeling rather bashful when admitting, “They reminded me `f you. Tha’s why I picked him.” She set the kitten down in her lap and gave him a look that spoke of guilt. “Wha’s wrong, pet?”

“I just… feel bad. I didn’t think we would be exchanging... what I mean is that I didn’t get you anything and here you got me this awesome present.” It wasn’t like they we’re Valentines or anything, but she still felt bad that he’d put so much thought into getting her something she’d like and she had nothing to give him in return.

Chuckling, he pushed himself completely upright and planted his feet on the floor when she shifted over for him. “`S jus’ a gift, luv. Like the pen, there’s no strings attached.” And he truly meant it.

“I could make you dinner,” she offered. It was the least she could do to thank him.

“Too late for that. I ordered Italian to be delivered at six.”

“You did?”

“I didn’-” He began running his hands up and down his spine as he continued to explain. “-feel like cookin’ and didn’ want you burnin’ down the kitchen, so yeah.” At her scowl, he elbowed her side playfully. “You know `m teasin’ ya… even if `s true,” he added with a wink.

“Hmmph!” She turned her nose up at him.

“Awwww, come on now, don’ be-”

“Massage,” she suddenly blurted out.

“S’cuse me?” What the…

“Your back. It’s still hurting, right?”

“Yeeeeah, but-”

“So I’ll give you a massage, a-after dinner.” Since he’d gotten her the kitten, she wanted to do something for him, too. And by doing this, it would make things even in her mind.

As much as the idea appealed to him, he didn’t expect anything in return from her. Quirking a brow, he tried to express that. “Buffy,” he said sternly. “You don’ have to do that. I meant what I said.” But she insisted anyway.

“Then consider it my gift to you.”

There was a moment’s pause while he studied her thoughtfully before conceding. “Alright, as long as tha’s what you want to do.”

“It is. Besides, you need it judging from the fact you’re still rubbing your back.”

She certainly got him there, so he stopped trying to massage himself and brought his hands around to rest in his lap.

He sat there just staring at her and the need to fill the silence that followed had her searching for something to say. Pointing over her shoulder, she made her excuse to get away from the disturbingly handsome smile he wore while watching her. “I’ll-uhmm, go set the table. W-while we’re waiting for the delivery guy. Here.” Taking her kitten, which’d fallen asleep again, she handed it to him then stood up.

“So what are you gonna name him?” he called out to her as she walked into the kitchen.

“I’m not sure.” Busying herself by laying out the dishware they’d need and then retrieving a chilled bottle of Lambrusco from the fridge, she said, “I’ll have to think about it for awhile.”

When the doorbell rang, Spike immediately said he’d get it after carefully laying the still sleeping feline on the couch. With the table set, Buffy took the opportunity to go to her room and change into a pair of flannel night-shorts that resembled boxers and a T-shirt that matched the grey in the plaid pattern of her bottoms.

When she came back out, Spike was dishing out the food, so she occupied herself by taking the kitten’s belongings and set them up where she thought they should go then washed her hands before joining him for dinner.

~~~*~~~

Shoving another glass of wine in his hand along with two Ibuprofen tablets, Buffy insisted that Spike sit in the hot tub so the heat from the water would help loosen his muscles up while she cleaned the dishes. Several minutes later, as she walked past the glass doors of the balcony on the way to the bathroom, Spike called out to get her attention.

When she slid the door open a crack, he asked, “Could you get me a towel, luv? I forgot to grab one before comin’ out here.”

“Sure. Be right back.”

After she disappeared from view, he couldn’t help but imagine how nice it was going to feel to have her hands all over his body. Okay, just his back, but he was hoping that maybe he could talk her into a full body rub. Bloody hell! He was getting hard just thinking about it when she suddenly reappeared through the door and left the towel within his reach. Before she walked back inside, he stopped her.

“Buffy?”

“Yeah?” She turned back around.

“This… massage. Does it come with a happy endin’?” He really couldn’t stop himself from being so bold. She’d been warming up to him so much lately and all the wonderful kisses they’d shared as of late… well, he prayed that maybe, by asking her in the manner he had, she’d be willing to give him a hand release since he had no intentions of sleeping with any other woman but her. She said she was only ‘seeing’ Angelus, therefore she didn’t belong to him and that made Spike feel no guilt over his request.

She cocked her head to the side, gave him a thoughtful look for a few seconds before shrugging her shoulders. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. I’m not really very good at that sort of thing.”

And then she left, her words having turned his cock painfully hard. Oh yeah, if she was willing to give him a hand job, it wouldn’t be too long before he had all of her. Her heart, her soul, her body… maybe even tonight!

~~~*~~~

Twenty minutes later, Spike came out of his room after drying off and changing into nothing more than a pair of loose fitting charcoal sweatpants. He found Buffy in the living room sitting on the floor, giggling away while using a string to tease and play with the kitten. He stood there watching her with amusement before he had an idea. Going back to his room, he pulled out his laser pen for pointing at things during meetings and brought it back into the living room, sitting down beside her.

“Here. Watch this,” he said and pressed the button so a red dot appeared on the rug in front of the feline who immediately pounced on it, only to be confused when it darted away from him.

Buffy was in a fit of hysterics when Spike ran it in small circles, the kitten’s head on a swivel before he steered it straight to the edge of the floor and up the wall about a foot, the kitten chasing after it, batting its tiny paws furiously in an effort to get it before giving up after a minute to slump down and yawn.

“Awwww, you wore Sebastian out,” she scolded him as she went over to pick the tired kitty up and placed him in his round wicker-basket bed.

“Sebastian? Tha’s what you named him?”

“Yup.” Walking over to where he sat, she extended her hand to help him up, knowing his back was still bothering him. “I enjoy listening to classical music every once in awhile and Bach is one of my favorite composers. But since Bach or Johann didn’t sound right, I chose to name him Sebastian.”

“Sebastian,” he repeated, nodding his head once he stood up. “Good choice, pet. Suits the li’l bit.” Still clinging to her hand, he changed the subject. “So where did you wanna give me this massage?”

“Oh, right. Well, I think it would be best if you were able to spread out a little, and since the couch isn’t really big enough for that then maybe your bed? That way you can go straight to sleep once I’m through with you.”

His cock jumped and he gulped audibly while her words echoed in his head with all the possible implications, once I’m through with you… through with you… through with... She broke his train of thought when she tugged on his hand to make him follow her down the hall.

Letting go of him, she said she’d be with him in a minute before she disappeared into the bathroom. With a huge grin on his face, he went into his bedroom, left the door open for her and sprawled out onto his stomach across the bed, eagerly awaiting her arrival.

Buffy’s nerves were on edge over what she was about to do. It didn’t really hit her until Spike came into the living room half naked; exposing his perfectly sculpted upper body for her eyes to feast on. She was only able to hide her blushing reaction to it because they were playing with Sebastian, but now, all she could think about was the fact her hands were going to be all over that sinfully delicious, hard... Stop it! He’s hurting right now and you said you’d do this for him, so get a grip, Buffy, she scolded herself. Although it was his fault for being so damn hot and-and walking around like that before he had to, yup! She grabbed a towel and her bottle of oil from the shelf, trying to will away her attraction for him. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself – again - that this was to help ease the pain he was obviously in. With that last thought in mind, she walked out of the bathroom and into his room.

Turned out none of her efforts did her much good. Not when she was met with the sight of the tightly corded muscles of his back, strong looking shoulders, shapely biceps that looked flexed even at rest as they lay at his side near to his trim waist, those finely toned love handles peeking out from above the hem of his jogging pants which clung to his perfect buttocks and... Focus damnit, focus and do not look at his sexy ass. Groaning to herself, she vowed to behave in a clinical fashion as she did this and to make it as brief as possible, too.

Spike felt the bed depress as Buffy sat down on it and turned his head towards her. Seeing the bottle of vanilla oil she was opening, he protested. “Oi there, you’re not gonna make me smell all girlie-like with that, are you?”

“Sorry, it’s the only thing I have. There’s nothing else except for lotion in the bathroom and that won’t work as well.” She giggled at his ‘bloody hell’ before asking, “Where does it hurt the most?”

Other than his aching erection, which he wasn’t about to say, he told her the muscles along his spine from the base up to his shoulder blades. “Here, this’ll make it easier for you.”

Much to her horror - or rather delight that she desperately tried to stifle - he raised his hips and pushed his pants down to the point where she could now see the flesh of his upper cheeks where they roundly stood out from his lower vertebrae along with an inch of the crack of his drool-worthy backside. Glad that he wasn’t looking at her, she blushed profusely while trying to keep her panting as silent as she could until she got control of herself. “O-okay,” she stuttered and poured some oil into her hand, thankful he wouldn’t see her face from the position she had to be in for this.

Scooting closer to him and sitting on her knees, she leaned over to drag her hands from his scapula down to the top of his pelvis, avoiding going any lower than where the waistband of his pants should be. She spread the oil around until her palms were gliding smoothly against his skin then used her thumbs to press down and massage his muscles in slow, gentle circles.

“Mmmmm, feels good, pet. Dig in with all your might, I can take it.”

“Okay, but tell me if it’s too hard or rough. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

Oh, he was already too hard, and as for rough… the rougher the better. Bugger! He really needed to get those thoughts out of his head. It was bad enough his hormones were getting the better of both his body and mind, though he did have to forgive himself a little. After all, here was the only woman he wanted, in his bed, her small hands currently working their magic on his muscles. However unknowingly, the effect of her touching him - even like this - did things to him, other things that unwittingly drove him insane against his will.

Buffy did her best, taking note of the time on his clock, telling herself that twenty minutes should do the trick. Any longer and her hands would wear out since she was using so much force as she sought out the knots and worked to loosen them. As the minutes wore on and she got towards his bottom, she rose up on her knees and used the leverage to put more strength into her palms while working on this section of him.

“Lower, please?” he asked her. It was the spot that hurt the most.

“Huh?” Please tell me he didn’t just ask me to go lower.

“I need you to go a tad lower, pet.”

Thinking quick to find an excuse not to, she told him, “I can’t from this angle, not with the same amount of pressure you want.”

“Sit on my legs. That should work.”

Damnit! He was right and she didn’t want to cheat him out of what he needed since she’d offered to do this. Mental note to self… don’t offer again. She could straddle his upper thighs, no problem there; it was having to massage the very area she’d avoided so far that bothered her… in a hot and bothered kind of way that had her panicking. You can do this, Buffy. Just close your eyes… get it over with then leave the room. Immediately!

Doing as he suggested, she still found it difficult to breathe despite screwing her eyes shut from the sight of him. She pressed down on the tops of his round globes but used only her knuckles, rolling her fists in an outwards pattern to get around the base of his spine. But dear Lord in heaven, she didn’t think those were ‘knotted’ muscles; that part of his anatomy just happened to be extremely firm. Repeating the pattern three more times, she finally opened her eyes and swiftly raised his sweatpants to cover him up, signaling she was through before moving away from him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“All done now. How do you feel?”

Spike rolled over onto his back, smiling up at her lazily while she wiped her hands on the towel. “Bloody perfect, pet. Jus’ what I needed… `cept for my happy endin’.”

“Happy ending? But you just said it was perfect.”

“It was,” he reaffirmed, wanting to assuage her fears as she looked him like she’d already failed before she even began. “Look, I know you said you weren’ very good at it, but it doesn’ bother me. At this point, jus’ to have you touch me there, well, it’ll probably do the trick in two strokes.”

“Touch? There?” He nodded. “Strokes?”

“I guarantee it.”

Waggling his brows after looking downward then back to her, she finally understood after trailing the path his eyes laid for her to follow. No way could she miss how highly tented his sweats were and what lay beneath them.

“I-have-to-go,” she announced and slid off the bed in a hurry to race to the door, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him, the erection she couldn’t ignore as he stood making her even more nervous.

“Stay… please,” he begged in a husky voice full of need.

“I-I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.” She spoke softly as her eyes darted quickly from his groin to his face as she pulled away from his grasp.

Her brief glance at his crotch was a telling look. “We can fix that, no sex involved,” he reassured her. “Happy endin’, tha’s all.” He tried to joke, offered her a small smile but from the look in her eyes, it wasn’t working.

“I can’t fix that.” As he sighed with frustration, she didn’t want to feel guilty but she did. She should have known giving him a massage might arouse him, placing them both in this predicament. He was only a man after all.

“Why?” he cried, the disappointment evident in his face, his voice. “Are you afraid? Is that it?” Lowering his voice, he hoped to calm what appeared to be one very frightened Buffy. “There’s no need to be, baby, not of me.”

“`M not afraid of you,” she replied, though there was a tremor of doubt in her voice she couldn’t hide.

“Then wha’s the matter?”

“We live together,” she reasoned though she knew that was no excuse.

“Not seein’ the problem here, pet.” She was confusing the hell out of him. If he could just figure out what the problem was, maybe he could help, make it go away. It wasn’t like he was asking her for sex.

“We’re not together... like that. We share... space... and that’s it. We’re-we’re unlikely roommates.”

That hit a nerve with him and he stalked towards her, determined for her to see the truth. “But we could be so much more. I know you feel it, too.”

“Oh right.” Now she was getting upset. “Whenever you’re not out there boinking half of New York, maybe.” She backed away from him, feeling the need for distance, from him, from her frustration, from all of the emotions that were overwhelming her right now and warring with each other.

“I wouldn’ do that.” He meant to assuage her fears with his words, let her know whatever she wanted was exactly what he’d give her. Why couldn’t she see that? He took slow, measured steps towards her, not wanting to scare her but not wanting her to leave until they talked this out either.

“I’m just not sure why you’re so willing to give up your ways. Face it, Spike.” Her eyes misted up as she accused him of something he hadn’t even done yet. “I’d be nothing more than some temporary thing to you and when I move out… and we still work together? No. This can’t happen.” My heart couldn’t take it, she thought, not with the way she felt towards him.

With her back to the door, she reached behind her and desperately began fumbling with the knob as he closed the gap between them.

The moment he heard the door creak open, he slammed a hand above her head to close it again.

“Please… just move,” she begged, her voice sounding as tired as she felt, not ready or willing to deal with all of this just yet.

“No.”

“Move, Spike,” she ordered him more firmly, her anger beginning to rise as his face came dangerously close to hers.

“Make me,” he whispered in her ear, pulling back in time to see her eyes close, face frowning hard with indecision, so obviously torn between wanting to stay or go. “You won’ and you wanna know why? Cause you’re wound too tight for your own good, scared `f yourself… scared `f the very thing you want most……… and tha’s me.” Shocked green eyes snapped open to glare at him but he stayed right in her face, lowering his voice when pointing out the facts. “You need to face it, Buffy. Face yourself, face me and stop runnin’. There’s only one bloke that can take care `f you right, treat you right, give you what you’ve been denyin’ yourself and tha’s me… ME!” His lips curled into a snarl as he pressed his body against hers, trapping her, letting her feel just how badly he wanted her and only her, praying she would see it and give in to the desire that was so clearly written all over her face.

That, however, earned him a quick slap to his cheek from the irate blonde before him.

Angry, he slapped her back, lightly though, not hard enough to be abusive but enough to get her attention, let her know he wasn’t going to stand there and take it.

“Ah,” her short surprised cry of outrage came... right before she slapped him back.

She wants to play it that way, huh? Fine! Slap!

He did it again! Fucker! Slap!

Back at her. Slap!

And forth. Slap!

Back. Slap!

And forth. Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

Faster. Slap!

Slap!

And faster. Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

The tempo steadily increasing.

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

Their high strung emotions fueling the crescendo.

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!


Suddenly, Buffy grabbed his head, pulling him in for a heated kiss. His eyes went wide with surprise but instinct kicked in and he quickly took over, yanking on her waist in response as she wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him closer still. Her back hit the door with a dull thud but it didn’t stop her from turning her head sideways, her silky tongue coming out to slide eagerly across his. He groaned under the sweet taste of her impatience, crushed her mouth beneath his, devouring every delightful, tiny moan that tried to escape her lips. Flames of desire licked at every corner of his being, his cock hardening further, throbbing violently for release when she raised her leg, rubbing his outer thigh up and down in invitation, summoning him to tumble head long past the brink of any sanity he had left.

Pressing the heavy, pulsing weight of his desire against her, he could feel the heat of her core practically burning its way through the fabric that separated them and knew if he didn’t tamper his lust down, any clothes they were currently wearing would be lying in shreds at their feet in under a second. But his thoughts were too scattered right now, his inner primal need to consume her darkly shadowing all reason as his raw, open nerves absorbed the feel of her curves melding to his. His fingers shot down to grip her calf, raising it higher as he ground against her, again and again, shuddering when she bucked her hips in reply. She hooked her ankle around the back of his knee as his palm drifted slowly up the satiny smooth texture of her thigh, savoring every inch of his ascent.

Never would he have guessed she’d be so bold, that tonight would be the night she finally listened to him, heard, understood and give herself over to him, but none of it mattered it now. All he cared about was that they were finally on the same page, that she wanted him as much as he did her. But he would keep his word, treat her right, make their first time very special… for her… and the time after that, and the time after that… forever. She tore away from him to gasp for air but he granted her only a single gulp before diving back in to capture her lips, a guttural growl of possessiveness roaring through his chest to pour down her throat in warning if she dared to separate herself again from his hungry mouth.

The bruising, angry kiss he treated her to was meant to establish dominance. He simply wanted her too much now to let her go for even a moment. Need... he crushed her even tighter against him... want... held her head in place as the fight ensued ... so bloody bad... moved his hand to roughly knead her bottom... gotta have... began rhythmically thrusting his cock against her... have to... pulled her into each one... have... turned his head to swallow her moans... need... she responded so beautifully... right now... so perfect... want... thrust... take... ran a hand inside her shorts... have... slid a finger beneath her desire soaked panties...

She unexpectedly broke away, held her hand over her mouth, looking horrified at what they’d done. He was furious she felt that way, tried to reach for her again before she could flee but it was too late. She ran from his room. “FUCK!!!” He kicked the door shut in a fit of rage. She should have taken it for what it was, a bloody revelation. He hadn’t forced himself on her, she attacked him! But then his anger turned inward, knowing he was partly to blame. They should have talked, not argued, and he’d let his temper get the better of him which ultimately facilitated what happened.

~~~*~~~

Buffy ran into the bathroom, locked the door and leaned against it, chest heaving as her mind tried to catch up to what they’d almost done. Feeling feverish, like she was burning up from the inside out, she quickly turned the shower on, set it to cold and jumped in, clothes and all. The trembles of passion that racked her body rapidly turned to shivers under the freezing spray of water and she thanked God for the distraction.

God yes, she wanted him, but it was too soon, too fast, everything had spiraled way out of control. For a moment she’d let herself succumb to the delicious sensations he’d evoked in her, surrendered completely, lost herself in an all consuming haze of arousal she’d never experienced before, every cell in her body flaring with a white-hot inescapable need as their bodies writhed against one another. The way his hands greedily roamed her body, the voracious kisses they’d exchanged that encouraged her to seek more as the ache between her thighs becoming unbearable. Whorls of electricity built inside her womb, tried to claw their way out, becoming more and more intense with every stabbing thrust of his erection against her center coupled with the rough timbre of his needful groans that cut a deep serrated path to her very core...

Damnit, this shower wasn’t nearly cold enough to fully staunch the sinful memories that would surely haunt her for days. This is all my fault. No, not entirely, both their faults. But she shouldn’t have... she sent the wrong message and... she kissed him... he kissed her back… and it... felt so good, but the moment his fingers touched her, her... She closed her eyes against the string of profanities that suddenly followed a loud crash coming from Spike’s room. He was angry with her, had every right to be with the way she threw herself at him like some whore. No, like a tease! This was so what she didn’t need and worse, didn’t know how to fix.

Tuesday morning………

Buffy waited inside her room until she heard Spike leave for work. At the sound of his key bolting the lock into place, she felt a combination of relief and sadness wash over her. Relief because she wasn’t ready to face him yet but also sadness, and yes hurt, that he hadn’t knocked on her door to at least check on her or even called out to ask if she was coming.

He was obviously still mad at her and truthfully, she didn’t blame him. They needed to talk, she knew this, but she just couldn’t bear the thought of having to endure the tension that would surely be present while working beside him all day until they’d had the chance to have that talk.

So she played hooky, phoned Snyder to tell him she didn’t feel very well and wouldn’t be coming in. It didn’t matter to her what Spike thought once he discovered this, she needed some time to figure things out, come up with a way to smooth things over with him… if it were even possible.

As the morning slowly dragged by, she sat in the living room with the TV turned on, though she paid no attention to it. Sebastian had clawed his way up the side of the couch and onto her lap after eating and she mindlessly stroked his fur after he curled into a ball on her thigh to fall asleep.

Staring off into space, her brain was busy… thinking, reasoning, rationalizing and everything else there was in between. She couldn’t make things right until she figured out exactly what went wrong. One thing was sure, she no longer faulted Spike for anything that had happened last night; she placed all the blame on herself. Somehow, she’d unknowingly given him certain vibes, or-or signals that spelled ‘go’ inside his head. There was no other explanation because he acted perfectly normal up until the ‘happy ending’ discussion which – once she figured it out - made her try for a hasty exit. Even then, he acted as if he could read her mind, knew her secrets, understood… which was more than just a little spooky.

He’d tried so hard to reassure her, too, over and over unlike the old Spike who would have simply tried to molest her on the spot, not talk. And even when he ultimately became frustrated, got in her face, kept the door closed and made her listen, he hadn’t said anything that really wasn’t tru… “Oh-my-God,” she groaned aloud, realizing just how right he was… about everything.

She was scared of herself, of what she wanted. And much to her surprise, she was doing the very thing he said she needed to most right now… face herself. Her eyes instantly grew wet as the truth sunk in… she was falling for him, hard, and it went way past the point of like already. However, fear still had its firm grip on her heart. Facing him was going to be difficult and not running away from what she felt even harder.

Ever since Riley, she’d closed herself off. And this, this ‘thing’ with Spike, the very idea of letting someone in and letting herself care again was scary after so many years spent alone, especially because she hadn’t known him that long. Long enough for him to worm his way into my heart, though.

It was almost funny that here she was, the supposedly older and wiser of the two of them yet he saw things more clearly than she did. She could admit to herself now that she wanted him, but she couldn’t admit it to him, at least not verbally… yet. It was still too early to tell if he felt the exact same way about her as she did about him. The changes she saw in him seemed genuine enough, but he was still young, he could change his mind, get bored with her, go back to the way he was befo-

The phone suddenly rang, startling her so bad she jumped, sending Sebastian to slide off her thigh with a tiny mewl. Thankful he hadn’t fallen to the floor; she reached for the cordless phone and looked at the caller ID. Oh-God, oh-God! Her heart seized in her chest. It was the direct line to her office which meant it had to be Spike. She panicked, she wasn’t ready to talk, but she couldn’t not answer it for fear of making him any angrier with her than he already was. Going with her gut instinct, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind after pressing the ‘talk’ button.

“I’m sorry.”

“Buffy?”

“Y-yeah?”

“It’s Angel.”

“Angel? Oh, I-uhmm... what’s up?” Yeah, Angel, remember him? The nice guy you’re technically still seeing. The guilt that consumed her was crushing, it felt like she’d cheated on him because you went and kissed your roommate last night!!!

“I stopped by your office to see you and discovered you were out sick today.”

“Yeah. I-I’m not... feeling too well.” Emotionally speaking it was true.

“Nothing serious I hope?”

“N-no. Just... a migraine.” Swift thinking. Hopefully he’d buy the story and hang up soon. Her plan was to break it off with him face to face, not over the phone. “I get them every now and then but it’s no big. I have medication and just need some rest.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to interrupt you if you were sleeping.”

“It’s okay.” Please hang up now, Angel, please! It made her cringe to hear him call her ‘baby’, especially when the use of any pet names only sounded right coming out of Spike’s mouth.

“I’ll let you rest, but before I let you go, I was wondering… if you’re not doing anything could I take you out on, say… Thursday, when you might be feeling better?”

“Actually, I can’t.” No way was she going to say yes to that, it was bad enough she’d deceived him into thinking she was ill.

“Oh. That’s okay. Well, since I was going to ask you today anyway, I was hoping maybe we could go to the ball together on Saturday? I’d like to introduce you to my father.”

“I…” There was no getting out of it, she could see that now. As much as she hated to do this over the phone, it would be even more deceitful if she came up with another excuse that would more than likely make him suspicious. It’s now or never, she conceded before taking a deep breath to steady herself for what she was about to do.

“Angel, I have… things that I’m currently dealing with and… it just isn’t a good time for me to-”

“Oh, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m positive he’ll like you and hopefully you’ll like him too, once you get to know him.”

If he only knew how his father had already tried to ‘get to know her’. She grimaced at the memory but forged ahead. “No, you don’t understand. What I’m trying to say is that… that you’re a really, really great guy and because of that, it wouldn’t be fair to you for me to keep seeing you because I really do need to settle my… my personal affairs. I’m sorry, I truly am and can only hope you understand, and-and that you’re not too upset with me?” There was a funny clicking sound and then a long pause before he spoke again.

“Baby, if this is too soon…”

He paused for a second and she thought she heard a snort from his end of the line but dismissed it and cut him off so he couldn’t continue.

“It’s—it’s not too soon, Angel, I just feel like this isn’t going to work for me right now. I’m sorry.” She was using what her friend Willow called the ‘resolve-o voice’, hoping he wouldn’t press the matter more.

“Ok, Buffy, I won’t insist. We can still be friends though, right?”

Sighing with relief, she replied, “Of course. There’s no reason why not and I’d like that.”

“Good. And, Buffy? I hope whatever you’re dealing with turns out alright for you.”

“Thank you… for being so nice about it. Goodbye, Angel.”

“Goodbye.”

Thankful he took her rejection so well, she felt some of the weight she’d bore on her shoulders lift… some, but not all. Standing up to stretch from sitting for so long, she figured a nice hot soak in the Jacuzzi was in order. It would relax her, take her mind off things for awhile and afterwards, she’d hopefully be able to think more clearly about what to say to Spike when he came home.

~~~*~~~

“Seems the lass is playing hard to get,” Angelus mused aloud, though he now regretted he had his conversation with Buffy on speaker phone. He did it to rub his ‘budding relationship’ with her in Spike’s face, but it backfired on him and the embarrassment he’d suffered as a result only made him more determined. A simple change in strategy was in order… be her friend, her good friend, and play the waiting game.

“Sod off, you wanker. The lady clearly isn’ interested in the likes of you.”

“And you would know that how, my boy? She doesn’t even give you the time of day.” Angelus scoffed.

Spike had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to keep from talking about the weekend he’d spent with Buffy and how that might - or at least he hoped - be the reason she dumped Captain Forehead. “I know her, alright? Jus’ hope you realize now she’s out `f your league and leave her alone.”

“Now why would I do that?” he asked slyly. “She said it herself she’d like to remain friends, so I’m thinking there’s nothing wrong with a little… friendly fuck, now is there?”

“`S never gonna happen,” Spike told him with certainty in his voice. “So you may as well forget it.” If there was ever a time Spike wanted to quite literally murder someone, it was now as he watched Angelus hop down from having sat on Buffy’s desk with an evil grin and heard what came out of his mouth next.

“The game is still on, boy, and you can bet I’ll be winning it.”

This time, Spike made sure the git understood once and for all. “She’s not a bet or a conquest to me, Angelus. She’s a lady, and you’d do well to remember that.”

Throwing him a smirk over his shoulder as he opened the door to leave, he retorted, “Not when I’m through with her.” When Spike stood up, his face red with rage, he added, “May the best man win.” And then he left. No way would Spike ever back down from one of their bets, it wasn’t in his makeup. Competition had always run thick through their blood… their genes.

It took a lot of self restraint on Spike’s part to sit back down rather than jump over his desk to strangle the tosser. What held him back was that he no longer gave a rat’s arse what Angelus thought. All Spike cared about was what he’d heard Buffy say over the phone. And as he replayed it in his mind, he wanted to whoop for joy.

When she hadn’t set foot out of her room this morning, he instinctively knew she needed some space so he respected that and left for work without a word. Upon discovering she wasn’t coming into the office at all, he could only guess she didn’t want to see him, was upset with him and not because of some ‘migraine’ as she’d told Angelus. But now… well now, all he wanted to do was to rush home and pray she would talk to him. He still stood by what he’d said to her last night, but more than anything, he just wanted to make right what had gone so terribly wrong after the massage… no matter what it took.

~~~*~~~

Bracing himself in case Buffy was in a foul mood, Spike cautiously entered the apartment. Looking around, it was obvious she was either in her bedroom, the bathroom or not there at all. Walking into the kitchen, he grabbed himself a glass and filled it with water, but just when he went to take a sip, he froze. Buffy suddenly came walking down the hallway wearing nothing but a yawn and a towel draped over her forearm.

Despite the immediate reaction of his lower half and wanting to stand there so he could drink in the beauty of the naked goddess before him, he quickly ducked under the counter’s edge to hide himself. If she caught him gawking at her goodies, she’d probably scream first then kick his bloody arse all the way back to the Mother Country.


He heard the balcony door swish open then shut and knew without a doubt she was going to use the hot tub. At least that bought him some time to slink his way out of their apartm… hold on. As long as she was in the Jacuzzi, she was covered… and cornered. No, he wasn’t about to leave. What he would do, however, was walk around and make it look like he’d just come home for lunch, then walk straight out onto the balcony where she’d have no choice but to talk to him. She could curse up a blue streak for all he cared, he wasn’t going to leave until he made things right.

As he raised his head up to see she was indeed in the water – and thankfully with her back to him – he stood up and made his way towards her.

The moment Buffy heard the door slide open she whipped her head around and screamed at the top of her lungs. She never thought for a second that she wasn’t alone and suddenly seeing Spike, she curled her body into a ball to protect her nudity while darting a hand out to reach for her towel. But she was too late. He’d snatched it away before she even got close to it.

“Spike,” she squeaked in shock. “What are you, wait… please give me my towel, I’m naked,” she begged in a hushed tone.

The scream he expected, but the quiet, desperate plea for her towel he didn’t. He thought for sure he’d see her fiery temper rise up, not this woman who was trembling all over with something akin to fear in her eyes. He sat down on the bench to give her some modicum of privacy but kept the towel and shook his head.

“I can’ give you your towel back `til we talk, Buffy,” he said quietly.

Oh God, this is it, the very thing she wasn’t prepared for, at least not until later when he came home and she’d had more time to think about it. And again, she said the first thing that came to her mind. “I’m sorry.” Tears she never expected suddenly sprang forth, but she didn’t have time to wipe at them before he’d rushed to her side, got down on his knees and began gently brushing them away with his thumbs.

“Hey now, wha’s all this?” Cradling her face in both hands, he tried to soothe her distress, confused over her behavior. “Please don’ do that, pet, I can’ stand seein’ you cry.” But the tears kept coming as her shoulders shook with silent sobs, making him wish he could pull her into his arms and make it all go away.

“I’m really sorry, Spike… please forgive me.” Unable to stop, she let out all the pent up emotions inside of her, lowered her head and closed her eyes, afraid of what she’d see in his face despite what he’d said.

“Sshhh-sshhh-sshhh.” He hated to see her so upset and if she didn’t stop, she’d make him break down. And regardless of their awkward positions, he laid a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her head against his shoulder. “There’s nothin’ for you to apologize for, luv… nothin’. Actually, I came home to apologize to you.”

“You, y-you did?” Looking up at him and seeing what lay in his eyes left her with no doubt he was telling the truth. “But… you were so angry last night, wouldn’t talk to me this morning and I thought, I thought-”

“Well, you thought wrong,” he said with a small smile while stroking her hair back and cupping her chin.

“So, you’re not…” Pausing to take a shaky breath, she asked the one question she needed an answer to most. “You’re not mad at me? Not even a-a little?”

At this he chuckled, he couldn’t help it even as she frowned at his reaction. He coughed a couple of times to get himself under control before telling her in earnest, “Oh, kitten, I could never be mad at you. Frustrated, yes. Mad, never.” She seemed relieved to hear him say this, her shoulders slumping from the tension she’d held on to.

“Thank God. I really couldn’t take it if you were.”

“I think-” he spoke softly, released his hold to her and rocked back on his heels. “-that there was some… miscommunication goin’ on last night. Am I right?”

Blinking back the last of her tears, she nodded. “Yes, but… I want you to know I blame myself for it. Not you.”

“Buffy,” he said sternly. “I was outta line last night when I pushed you `gainst the door and `specially for slappin’ you back. You’ll never understand how sorry I am `bout that and can only pray you’ll forgive me for it.”

When he tilted his head to the side in that certain way, those blue eyes shining with hope while awaiting her response, she melted. “Of course I do. I started it and you didn’t deserve it. I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have-”

“Stop right there,” he interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. “Don’ bloody care who started it and damn well don’ believe for a minute the blame lies solely on you. Understand?”

“Uhmm, o-okay. I guess I can deal with that.” She offered him a smile which made him instantly give her a brilliant flash of his teeth as he grinned from ear to ear.

“Good!”

“And, Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?” Seeing her tense up again, he wondered what else was on her mind.

“Those things you said to me last night?”

So that was it. Well, he’d apologize for that too, no matter how right he felt he was. “`M sorry `bout that, too. Never meant to push-”

“No, please don’t be sorry because the truth is……… The truth is… that-you-were-right. About everything.” There, she’d said it.

He just sat there, completely dumbstruck by her admission. Could it mean that he was finally getting through to her? That she did in fact want to be with him and understood he’d take care of her, do right by her? It almost seemed too good to be true.

“I just need some time to process what I’m feeling for… and-and understand it, before making any kind of decision.”

A lump formed in his throat and inside, he truly prayed that what she’d just said meant what he thought it meant… but he’d keep it to himself for now. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off by questioning her and possibly have his hopes crushed by her answers. “Take all the time you need, `m not goin’ anywhere.” Definitely not goin’ anywhere.

“Thank you.”

“Now… about that kiss.” Whoa, who knew her face could turn that red so fast… simply adorable. But he did feel they needed to talk about it.

“Uhhh-” Erghh, he just had to bring that up, didn’t he? Evil man. “Sorry?” she squeaked out her apology through lowered lashes. Although he certainly seemed to have enjoyed it as much as she did… if not more.

“Don’t be. `M not,” he said matter-of-factly, right before waggling his brows at her to lighten the mood which somehow, only made her blush even harder. And bloody hell, were her lips actually curling into a shy smile? He considered himself one very lucky bloke indeed. “Jus’… you know, kinda proved somethin’… to both of us. Wouldn’ you agree?” Please agree, or he’d start bawling like a baby, his pride be damned.

“It was…” She paused. The expression he held when she spared him a quick glance, well, she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be disappointed when she told him the truth. “Amazing.” And didn’t his face light up brighter than a Christmas tree?

Right before that trademark, smoking-hot sexy, cocky smirk of his returned. I am so doomed.

“More like bloody brilliant.” He’d never felt such passion in a woman, for a woman… she was ‘it’ for him, no two bloody ways about it.

“Yeah, it really was.” She allowed herself a giggle before speaking again, “But we gotta, kinda-sorta not do that again.” At his crestfallen look, she quickly added, “A-at least not that… intensely for right now because, well… just because. For now, okay?”

“Okay, pet.” Yeah, he should have seen that coming, but even if it hurt a little, just to know she was indicating there would be a ‘later’ was all he needed to be happy.

Turning her head to the side, she kissed his cheek, grateful he didn’t push the subject. “So are we good? You and me?”

“Yeah, luv, we’re good.” Any time she kissed him, even as innocently as she had, he was more than good. Nancy-boy or not, he was well and truly smitten. “But… I really do need you at work today.” He hated to tell her that, but it was true. And then that bottom lip of hers stuck out to taunt him right before she started to argue her case, the adorable pout remaining in place.

“And I really need a day off. I have well over a month’s worth of vacation and sick days I’ve never used. I think I deserve it.”

Bloody hell! She really did have him wrapped around her finger, and tight! “You know what? You’re right. You do.” He nodded in agreement; having been unaware she’d accumulated that much time off.

“Huh?” Wow, it certainly didn’t take much to convince him. She was almost upset he didn’t put up more of a fuss, but then she probably would have given in and truthfully, she really wanted to stay home.

“Why don’ you take tomorrow off, too,” he said with a warm smile.

“Not to steal your lines but, who are you and what have you done with my roommate?”

Giving her a smug look, he asked, “Would you like your boss to make you come in to work right now?” She promptly said ‘no’ then splashed him teasingly with water. “Oi now! Don’ wanna have to change my clothes before headin’ back to the office.”

“Awwww.” She splashed him again, forcing him to stand and back away. “What’s the matter? Is the big bad afraid of getting wet?” Oooops, seemed like she’d said the wrong thing judging from the evil glint in his eyes as he walked towards her all cock and swagger.

“Not afraid at all, luv.” He dipped his index finger into the water, swirling it in slow circles, raising a mischievous eyebrow. “Could join you right now if you like? Clothes and all.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Or would he? she wondered, her eyes growing wide when he lifted his foot and placed it on the side of the tub. Nope, apparently he would. Of course he never appeared to be the type of man who would back off from a challenge. “Spike, no! I’m naked in here.”

“Oh, so you want me starkers, too?” he asked innocently. “Alright. `S only fair.” And the second he reached to take his jacket off, she hurriedly backed herself up to the opposite side of the Jacuzzi.

“No-no-no. Go away, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He couldn’t help but laugh that she thought he was serious. But then again… “Relax, I was only kiddin’.”

“Erghh, you’re so, so insufferable sometimes,” she fumed.

“Yeah, but `s part of my charm and `sides… you know you love it.”

Rolling her eyes, she carefully scooted back over to him while concealing herself beneath the bubbles. “Maybe, maybe not.” It was all the confession he was going to get out of her before she warned him, “But don’t push your luck, mister.”

“Wouldn’ dream `f it.” After winking at her, he decided to change the subject and chose his words carefully in hopes she’d tell him herself that she’d dumped the Great Poof. “I gotta head back to the office now, but I’ll be home right after work. Do you wanna watch a movie after dinner? Er, that is if you don’ have anythin’ goin’ on tonight with Angelus.” The play of emotions across her face said it all before she uttered a word.

“No, I… he called today and I broke things off with him. As in permanently.” May as well tell him, she thought, so he can get all his gloating over with now.

“Really? Sorry to hear that, pet.” Oh, he tried to sound sincere, even though it was pointless.

“No, you’re not, so don’t even try lying about it.” He began laughing and it caused her to start giggling as well.

“Ya got me there. `M not sorry `bout it one bit. More like relieved.”

“Oh really,” she said with a hint of playfulness as she neared his face after he squatted down to her level. “And why’s that, Mister Giles, hmmm?” Maybe it was wrong of her to act like this, but she was curious as to what he would tell her, if he’d be bold enough to reveal anything concerning his feelings for her if she coaxed him by flirting just a ‘teensy’ bit.

Swallowing hard, he could only reiterate what he’d already told her. “Like I said, pet, there’s only one bloke that can take care of you right, and `s me.”

The deep purr of his voice as he said those words sent a chill down her spine despite the steaming water. “Is that so?” she stated rather than asked. He regarded her carefully, obviously thinking about his answer, but the confidence his eyes exuded was irrefutable, causing a rush of desire to flood her body. And as he moved a fraction closer, she could feel his breath against her face as he spoke.

“Yeah. If you let me, I would lo… take very good care `f you, for as long as you let me.” The near slip of the ‘L’ word for the first time in his life made for a startling revelation. He may not have said it, hoped she hadn’t caught it either, but knew in his heart there was no denying it was true. He loved her.

Not wanting to bollocks things up further in case she did notice, he averted his eyes and rocked back on his heels before standing.

Good answer, she supposed, even if it was the same thing he’d said last night. But that meant he ‘meant’ it, and was more than enough for her to think on for quite awhile. He’s still young, could change his mind, her fears came back to whisper, but she did her best to push them aside for now.

Time. That’s what she told him she needed and he said he wasn’t going anywhere. But how much time would it take her before he ran out of patience?

“Here ya go.” Placing the towel within her reach, he thought it best for him to leave now. “I’ll see you `round quarter after five, okay, pet?”

“Okay. I’d ask you if you want me to make dinner, but I know what your answer will be. So would you like me to order out instead?”

He smiled lovingly at her for the offer and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt concerning her skills… within reason and without any flames involved. “How `bout you make a salad and I’ll handle the rest?”

“Deal,” she beamed up at him then hurriedly asked, “Can we still watch a movie together later?” Well, if that didn’t sound too eager, she chastised herself. But she wanted to spend some time with him… without his nose buried in a book that was.

“You bet,” he answered happily. Bending over to place a kiss on her forehead, he bid her goodbye. And with a spring in his step, he left the apartment, more than anxious for the rest of the workday to go by as fast as possible.

Tuesday evening………

Buffy pulled out everything she’d need in order to make a salad shortly after five o’clock, knowing Spike would be home any moment. And sure enough, just as she’d finished breaking apart the lettuce into bite size pieces to rinse them in the colander, she heard the door being unlocked.

“Hey there, Mr. Giles,” she called out to him, looking forward to their plans of staying in and spending the evening together.

“Hey there yourself, Miss Summers.” Setting the brown bag he carried in one hand on the coffee table and his briefcase on the floor, he took his coat off, hanging it up before removing two Styrofoam containers from the paper sack and heading into the kitchen.

“What’s that?”

Placing the boxes on the counter next to the sink where she was working, he explained, “Decided to pick up dinner.”

“But I thought you were going to cook?” He shook his head and sighed.

“Wanted to, planned to, but after today `m a little worn out.”

“I’m sorry, Spike.” He did look tired and she felt guilty for staying home. “I should have gone back to the office with you this afternoon when you said you needed me. I promise I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“No-no, I already said you could take the day off.” And he meant it.

After he gave her a quick kiss on the temple, she smiled but insisted, “I don’t need to, honest. Besides, what kind of partner would I be if I wasn’t there to help?” She placed her hands on her hips and faced him.

“I meant what I said, luv.”

“And so do I, so there, hmmph,” she said with a sassy grin then began sniffing the air curiously. “Mmmmm, what smells so good?”

“Oh, right.” He almost forgot about the food he was so enamored with her cute little display of defiance. Opening the cover of one container, he revealed two huge pieces of lasagna and watched her face light up.

“Oooooo, you definitely get major points for this. I could eat Italian every night.” Grabbing a cucumber, she got back to work and swiftly began removing the skin over the cutting board.

With a triumphant smile on his face, he opened the other box. “Then I think you’re really gonna enjoy what I got for after supper.”

Glancing over to get a peek at what else he bought, her eyes widened. The dessert he chose looked positively sinful with all the sugar it had to contain. “Wow, look at all that whipped cream. Is that fellatio?” she inquired, remembering the time when they were in the Jacuzzi and he asked if she was into it.

More than baffled, he raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “You're kiddin’ me, right?” She had to be.

"I'm just guessing,” she defended herself while picking up a second cucumber to peel it.

“Really?” No way, she had to be playing him. But she kept herself busy while shrugging innocently.

“Yeah. I mean, it sounds Italian to me, and that’s what you brought home… so, yeah."

“Buffy, ahhh…… you really don’ know what fellatio is, do you?” And again, she simply shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m guessing no based on your tone of voice.”

Bloody hell, it was obvious she wasn’t joking and it made him wonder about her ex-boyfriend and her friends, too, for not educating her on the word. Well, he supposed it wasn’t unreasonable to believe there were people out there in the world that weren’t familiar with the term and what it meant.

“Uhmm,” he started, not really knowing how to break it to her gently without sounding crude. “The word itself is new Latin based in Indo-European roots, but… it has nothin’ to do with food. Er, well, I suppose that depends on how one looks at it when considerin’ the, the-” he coughed nervously. “-cream fillin’.” And he wasn’t trying to make a joke about it either, rather an innuendo he prayed she’d ‘get’ so he wouldn’t have to explain any further.

Turning the faucet on, she began rinsing one of the two freshly peeled vegetables. “So what is it then if it’s not food but still considered food?” Glancing at him, his expression appeared somewhat anticipatory, piquing her curiosity. “Well? Care to explain?”

“Right then.” He shook his head, deciding to go on with the scholarly explanation. “Etymologically speaking, fella-”

“I thought that was the study of insects,” she interrupted him then noted his odd reaction, his laughter seeming uneasy, making her even more interested over what this fellatio meant and why it had him acting so weird.

“Entomology `s the study of insects, luv.” God was she ever adorable… adorably clueless! “Etymology is the study `f the source and development `f words.”

“Oh,” she said sheepishly. “Go ahead then, sorry.”

“`S okay, pet. Phonetically they do sound similar. Anyway, fellatus is the Latin past participle of fellare which means to suck. So you see-” And didn’t she cut him off again?

“Ohhhh, I get it.”

Bloody hell it was about time because if she hadn’t, it would only make this more difficult for him to get through.

“So I’m supposed to suck the cream out of it, right?”

GULP!!! Christ almighty it was getting hot in here as the unbidden image of Buffy performing that act - whether on the cannoli or him - had him loosening his tie and undoing the first two buttons of his dress-shirt. “N-no, not… exactly.” Fuck it, he thought, he may as well come out and give it to her straight while remaining as polite as possible. “Do you know what a BJ is?” He certainly hoped so or this conversation would become even more complicated.

What the… Her eyes went wide thinking he couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he meant. “You don’t mean BJ-” she lowered her voice to a whisper. “-as in… blow job, do you?”

“Yes, actually. And why are you whisperin’?” It was only the two of them here, but he didn’t wait for her to answer, he simply explained the rest, blunt and quick like. “Fellatio is the technical term for givin’ a bloke hea, er, a BJ.”

Her hand was wrapped around the cucumber, stroking it up and down under the stream of running water in a suggestive manner she wasn’t even aware of. But as her eyes followed the direction of Spike’s gaze to the sink, she looked down at what she was doing and dropped it with a small ‘eeep’ before turning her head very slowly in his direction. “You’re, you’re really serious, aren’t you?”

“Quite.” He nodded; his face devoid of any emotion though he was wringing his hands together. “I didn’ know you weren’ aware `f the meanin’, I swear.”

She could tell, it explained why he was fidgeting over her reaction. Blinking several times as it all sunk in, she picked the cucumber back up, deciding it was clean enough. "Honestly? I've never heard it referred to as that."

“So `s safe to assume you don’ know what cunnilingus means either?” Hey, if she didn’t know one, it was likely she didn’t know its partner term either.

Averting his gaze, she could only surmise it was the reciprocal act performed between a couple. “Hopefully I’m correct in thinking it’s what the male does to the female, i-in the same sort of capacity.”

“Correct.” To see her face aflame with such embarrassment was a relief, and downright gorgeous if he did say so himself. He was grateful she didn’t go all uppity-bitch on him over the subject. Which led him to ask just one more not-so-innocent question. “How `bout the acronym S and M?”

"Given the subject of our conversation so far? I’m guessing it doesn’t mean supper and a movie.” He began laughing his ass off which brought her to wheel on him, one hand perched on her hip and a knife pointed in his direction with the other. “Okay, here endeth the lesson if you value your vocal chords.”

“Alright-alright, `m sorry, pet. `S jus’…” He chuckled once more before continuing, “Your innocence is… refreshin’.” He almost said ‘adorable’ but refrained lest she twist the word’s implication and think he meant she was stupid.

~~~*~~~

With the awkwardness of that conversation over, they sat down to enjoy their meal, though when it came to dessert, Buffy chose to use a fork on her cannoli while Spike picked his up with his fingers to eat. They shared the duties of cleaning up the kitchen and then went to get changed into more comfortable clothes before coming back into the living room.

Spike made it there first and was already sprawled on the couch, one leg straightened out flush against the back, the other dangling off the edge. As soon as he spied her, he smiled and patted the spot between his thighs, indicating he wanted her to sit and lean against his chest. She almost said no, but then that would seem silly since they’d done this before. Besides, she really enjoyed the feel of being in his arms. And this time, she could do so without feeling any guilt over Angel now that he was history.

After settling into his embrace, he asked her what she wanted to watch, pointing at the screen’s pay-per-view choices.

“How about something funny? Something we can both agree on?”

“Sounds good. Le’s see here. We have Mr. Beans Holiday, Scary Movie Four aaaaaaaaand-” he scrolled down to the last page. “-looks like Balls `f Fury are the only comedies.”

“Can we watch Balls of Fury? That’s the only flick I haven’t seen out of the three. Unless you prefer one of the other two?”

“Doesn’ matter to me. Whatever makes you happy, kitten.” With the press of a couple buttons, he purchased the movie then asked, “Speakin’ `f kittens, where’s that fur ball `f yours?”

As if on cue, Sebastian meowed as he came crawling towards them and attempted to scale the side of the couch.

“Oi!” Spike reached down and picked him up, bringing him eye level with his face. “We’re gonna have to get you de-clawed there, mate. Can’ have you wreckin’ the furniture, now can we?” But all he got for an answer was a resounding mewl.

Buffy turned in time to see him briefly nuzzle the kitten’s face and scratch the purring feline’s ears. The cute display made her want to ‘awwww’ out loud but she thought better of it, knowing Spike was a man’s man and wouldn’t appreciate her commenting on his ‘soft spot’ for her pet. She found it absolutely endearing though, and insisted that he leave Sebastian on his shoulder where the little tyke had crept up on while Spike hissed from the tiny claws breaking through the cotton of his shirt during the creature’s ascent.

As the movie began, Spike laid the remote aside and casually wrapped his arms loosely around Buffy’s waist, hoping she didn’t mind. She was fine with it during the weekend they’d watched Blood Ties together, but things were different now and he didn’t want to make her feel uneasy or pressured by his actions in any way. Much to his delight – and relief – she molded herself more firmly against him. And it felt so good, so natural, so… right when she placed her arms over his as if to keep him there, resting her hands atop his. It was in that moment he realized that the wish he’d made on that falling star the other night was starting to come true. Never before had he placed any stock in such a ridiculous notion, but now that he was getting closer to what he wanted, well, he’d never doubt it again.

The film was decidedly amusing in its own unique way, sort of a combination of parody-slapstick and dry humor, making them both laugh in unison during the funny parts. And as the film continued, Buffy truly didn’t notice that she started lazily trailing her fingertips up and down Spike’s right forearm… but he did.

The subtlety of her gentle touch suddenly had him paying more attention to her than the telly. Goosebumps formed in the wake of her delicate strokes and his skin hummed with excitement from her ministrations. He couldn’t stop from getting hard because she had him feeling like a geeky teenager with a huge crush on the most popular girl in school who he was lucky enough to have in his arms right now. And just like a teenager, he responded hesitantly, hoping she would allow what he was about to do.

Moving cautiously, he twisted his left hand which lay beneath hers upright, and ever so slowly intertwined the tips of their fingers. His heart skipped a beat when she clasped his hand in hers to hold it properly and wiggled her body a few inches lower to tuck her head just beneath his chin. To make more room for her he bent his knee near the back of the couch, planting his foot flat on the cushion, smiling when she turned onto her side completely and nestled her cheek against him with a whispered ‘thank you’. He was emotionally high, perfectly happy with the simple contact they were sharing - and also thankful her hip bone was to the opposite side of his erection lest she feel it and actually put an end to this moment of theirs. He brought their joined hands up to kiss the back of her knuckles before lowering them back to her waist. And after playing with her fingers for a few moments, his smile started to fade somewhat as he thought back to their previous discussion.

She said she needed time to process what she was feeling before making a decision. And although he didn’t know how long it would take her, he did know the choice she would ultimately make concerned them both. Of course if the connection he felt right here, right now with her was this strong already, he knew he could win her over. He’d stay right by her side, take every opportunity to show her he was the man she both needed and wanted. Hell, she’d made him into that man, a better man, one that was deserving of her. And when the day arrived that she chose to be with him, he’d never give her up and would finally know what it meant to make love for the first time.

All the wonderful, idyllic thoughts of the future running through his head made him unable to resist leaning down to settle his nose on top of her golden tresses just to bask in her scent. It was a potent aphrodisiac, the aroma soothing him while at the same time exciting his senses and - much to his dismay - increasing his arousal. He recognized the floral bouquet of her shampoo, but past that was the underlying fragrance that was pure Buffy… honeyed spice, ice and fire, the very essence of her being. It called to him like a Siren to a drowning man, luring him to become forever and blissfully lost with her.

When Buffy became aware of what Spike was doing, she feared for a second that maybe her hair smelt funny and was about to ask if it did. But when his free hand glided up her arm, his thumb slowly creating small circles on her shoulder in a ghostly caress, the question died on her lips. His actions were simply that of affection, and they instantly had an effect on her she wasn’t prepared for. It brought out every emotion she had that revolved around him, the ones she swore not to dwell on until she was sure of his feelings for her. But oh, how futile it was to even try and fight them back now.

She knew she should tell him to stop, figuring he was innocently unaware of exactly what he was doing to her. But the pleasurable sensations his light touch produced in her quieted those protests while she bit her lip to stifle a moan. All he was doing was showing her that he cared, and this was part of what she needed to know. So she relaxed, soaked up what he offered and how he surrounded her in every way: the warmth of his body, his hot breath on the crown of her head and how well she fit in his arms.

Trying to diffuse everything Spike was eliciting within her, Buffy tried for a different tactic. Every man is ticklish...somewhere, I just gotta find out where. Raising her right hand, she placed her index finger on his shin to trace a path upwards. But as she rose higher to where his thigh began, he suddenly let out a most girlish giggle, taking her by surprise.

“Ticklish are we?” she asked teasingly.

“A li’l bi-ahhh, stop that!” he commanded, giggling harder and jerked when she pinched the flesh above his kneecap, sending Sebastian to seek the highpoint of the couch to avoid being jostled.

“Looks like the Big Bad has a-hey!”

He retaliated by tickling her ribs and making her squirm until she backed off, raising her hands in a show of surrender. “No-more, no-more, please?” she begged, looking up to give him her best pout.

“Can’ take your own medicine, eh?” He laughed when she swatted him, but as she laid back down into her original position, he took the opportunity to draw her even closer against him and planted a lingering kiss to her head.

“Mmmmm, that’s better.”

“Wha’s that, pigeon, me holdin’ you... or kissin’ you?”

“Both,” came her answer, riding on a whispery exhale. Then her eyes went wide when realizing what she’d said. She hadn’t lied, she just hoped he didn’t misinterpret it as in ‘on the lips’, though you can’t deny you were thinking it. But his only reply was another kiss to her head after muttering ‘good’, and hearing that made her muscles go lax. Of course now, her mind was wandering down a path it really, really shouldn’t… remembering what it was like to kiss him full on the mouth, what that plump bottom lip had tasted like as she caressed it with her tongue, worried it between her teeth. “Mmmmm,” she moaned again, but this time from the memory, though she tried to banish it by burrowing deeper into his strong embrace, reminding herself it was too soon to entertain the idea of doing that again.

Not for Spike. He was sure he understood what she really meant and was desperate to do it again, to kiss her breathless. But that would land him in hot water and it definitely wasn’t worth risking what he had with her right now… her, lying willingly in his arms, cuddling up to him. So he resolved to divert his wayward thoughts by running his fingers leisurely through her long locks, over and over in a methodical, calming fashion while trying once more to focus on the movie.

Wow! If this was how Spike would behave on a daily basis should they ever become a couple, she could easily get used to being spoiled like this. He was so tender with her it made her melt, made her want to give in and just tell him that she was falling for him. Would it be too soon, turn into a disaster from her acting on impulse? Or would it open the flood gates to something greater than either of them had ever experienced, washing away all her fears with it?

The TV was long forgotten, her eyes drifting to stare at the rise and fall of his chest. She took a few moments to think seriously on the subject of her growing emotions for him, but relishing Spike's every loving touch made the effort quite useless. Her hand skimmed up to the indentation where Spike’s collarbone branched out into his chest, spreading her over the bare patch of skin above the hemline of his shirt, dipping the nail of her middle finger beneath it to graze the soft hollow of his neck. She smiled to herself when he reacted by swallowing, watching his Adam’s apple bob, his…

And that’s when she heard it.

From beneath her ear, she heard his heart begin to race wildly and the suddenness of this happening made her wonder. Was it possible that he too, had been thinking about the same things as she? And if that was true, could it be that maybe, maybe...he was equally as nervous, just as scared?

Lifting her head to face him, she froze when his gaze locked with hers. She recognized the look within those soft baby blues - drawing from all her past encounters with him - and what he wanted. But he didn't move. His lips parted as his breathing increased and the seconds kept ticking by. He just stared back at her, an achingly deep longing in his eyes. It was the longing she’d glimpsed at that made her want to say the hell with the logic of waiting. She wanted to just take a leap of faith and pray he’d be there to catch her.

The heightened silence became unbearable, and yet Spike remained motionless until she whispered his name. "William?"

But he said nothing, just held her eyes with his until she became mesmerized by the way he was communicating without words, his thoughts seemingly echoing hers. Neither noticed the gravitational pull that slowly, oh so slowly drew them inexorably closer, lips so near they could already feel the power of the kiss they were about to share that would undeniably change their lives forever.

Until the phone rang.

tbc………

From last chapter………

Neither noticed the gravitational pull that slowly, oh so slowly drew them inexorably closer, lips so near they could already feel the power of the kiss they were about to share that would undeniably change their lives forever.

Until the phone rang………


The interruption truly couldn’t have come at a better time. Despite her own longing, Buffy knew this was not something that should happen yet, not until she’d had more time to think things over. It would only complicate matters if she let her heart take the lead without seriously weighing the risks in her mind and they’d had the chance to really discuss, well, ‘them’.

Reasonable-Buffy was once again calling the shots and she decided swooning-Buffy, the one still staring deep into those cerulean depths with pure want, needed to get off the couch and answer the call.

Spike wanted to say forget the bloody phone but knew their moment was already gone, ruined. He felt the instant she tensed in his arms, the spell that had held them captive crumble. Reluctantly, he let her go so she could answer, figuring it wasn’t meant to be. At least not tonight, mate, he said to himself with hope. After pausing the movie, he pushed himself to sit up straight while leaving his legs in their original position for when she came back.

Willow’s number lit up the screen on her cell, so naturally Buffy assumed her friend wanted to talk about wedding stuff. She answered with a cheery ‘how are you’ as she sat down on the couch next to Spike – flashing him an apologetic smile after mouthing ‘Willow’ - and scooted to lean back, balancing the elbow of the hand holding her phone on his kneecap.

Spike wasn’t planning on paying any attention to her side of the conversation until she frowned then raised her voice, repeatedly pleading for Willow to calm down and tell her what was wrong. And when Buffy went silent, he swore he could hear the sound of crying coming from the other end of the line.

Suddenly, her eyes went wide and she stuttered out questions in a frantic manner such as ‘when… h-how’. It was only seconds later when she went deathly quiet, and to his horror, he watched her face turn white as snow, the phone slipping from her motionless hand to drop in her lap as she stared straight ahead.

“Buffy?” he asked, more than a little concerned. But she didn’t speak, didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even blink which instantly made him panic. “Buffy?!?!” He tried again, but shouting her name had no effect. She sat there like a statue; either couldn’t or wouldn’t look at him. He reached out slowly to touch her, but when he faintly heard her name being called over and over he hurriedly picked up her phone. “`Lo, Willow?”

After explaining he was here watching a movie with her friend, he begged Willow to tell him what was wrong because Buffy appeared to be in shock and wouldn’t talk to him. And as he listened to her friend give him rough details of the bad news between choked sobs, he carefully moved Buffy to lie down and quickly covered her with the small quilt that was folded over the back of the couch.

He raced into the kitchen to get a glass of water, unable to think of what else to do for her and then rushed back into the living room.

“H-hold on for jus’ a sec,” he quickly told Willow and set the phone aside to kneel before Buffy. “Buffy? Baby, sit up. Here, have a sip. Please?” When she finally looked at him, he breathed a sigh of relief that she was responding. Setting the glass in her limp hand, he had to make her hold it by positioning her fingers around it. “I’ll be right back, luv, I promise.” He kissed her forehead, grateful that she gave him a slight nod despite the vacant look in her eyes.

Taking the phone with him, he grabbed a pen and pad from the kitchen counter so he could write down the answers to any questions he might have to ask, taking matters in his own hands because Buffy was obviously in no condition to even think straight right now. He headed out onto the balcony where he could keep an eye on her, but when he brought the phone up to his ear again, he found himself talking to Willow’s fiancé who explained that she was too upset to continue discussing it anymore.

Oz explained that because of the nature of Xander’s death – one of Buffy’s friends she’d grown up with - his parents thought it best to have the funeral right away after the body was cremated and were arranging a small ceremony for this upcoming Thursday. And Spike had to agree after hearing the particulars of the accident.

Apparently while Xander was working at a construction site, he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. A cable that was lifting a heavy steel support beam four stories high suddenly broke and when the beam fell, it landed in such a way that it crushed his body from the chest down to his knees. He died instantly, but the condition of his body didn’t allow for an open casket.

Spike took down notes on the time of the funeral and the gathering they were going to have on Wednesday evening. When he finally hung up, he knew from looking at Buffy through the glass door right now that he couldn’t let her go alone nor did he expect her to be able to make the necessary travel arrangements. He felt the need to take charge of the situation but he was desperate to go back inside and be with her.

Thinking quickly, he opened her phone back up and searched through her contacts until he found the number he was looking for and pressed call.

“`Lo, Cordelia? `S William Giles. Look, I know `s kind of late, but I need a really big favor… `s for Buffy.” And after relaying what was going on and the state her friend was in, he was relieved that Cordy was completely willing to take care of everything from booking the flight to the rental car and even reserving a room at the nearest hotel. She even offered to inform Snyder what was going on and to take over their schedule for the next two days as well as check in on Sebastian if need be. She’d distribute his workload and the meetings he had planned to other salespeople so he wouldn’t have to worry about getting behind either. After he gave her his credit card number, he thanked her over and over until she cut him off.

“Listen, you just go and keep an eye on Buffy. I’ll call you back as soon as I finish making your travel plans and give you all the information.”

“Thanks,” he told her again, his breath now ragged from talking so much.

“And William?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“I don’ understand.” Thank him for what? She was the one making all the plans for Buffy and him.

“For doing what you’re doing, for taking care of Buffy. She needs you right now and… Look, it may not be my place to say this-” she let her serious voice take over. “-but I know you're the one she wants.” Cordy knew now beyond a shadow of a doubt exactly how much he cared for her friend and vice versa. So she said just enough and hoped he did the right thing with that knowledge. “I’ll call you later. Goodbye.”

She’d hung up before he could say anything more and her words rolled around in his head for a minute as he wondered exactly what she meant by it. But right now he didn’t have time to think of anything other than Buffy’s welfare, so he came back inside and immediately went to sit on the edge of the couch by her side.

He stroked her hair away from her face and spoke softly. “Hey, kitten, how’re you doin’?”

“I… I spoke to him, t-to Xander just last week,” she said weakly. “He was over at Willow’s when I called and-and he sounded… we talked about…”

At the first sign of tears forming in her eyes, Spike bent over her small frame and picked her up. He slid back on the couch and brought her rest on his lap so he could hold her. Her arms wound around him, and she gripped him tight as if he were her lifeline while burying her face in his neck to begin crying.

“Let it out, luv. Jus’ let it all go. Spike’s got you, baby.” He rocked her like a child as she soaked his shirt with her sorrow and wrinkled it in her fisted hands. But he didn’t care about any of that. His own heart broke for her. To lose a friend that was perfectly healthy and she’d spoken with only a week ago… it just wasn’t fair. He wished he could erase her pain but knew that was impossible. The most he could do was to be there for her, and be there for her he would, every step of the way no matter how long it took or what she needed from him.

It took a while before she finally calmed, her body slumped in his arms from exhaustion, needing him to hold her up. When she finally pulled her head back to look at him, her eyes were lined in red, her face awash in grief. She opened her mouth to say something when her cell phone rang again.

“That should be Cordy,” he told her and pulled her phone from his front pocket to confirm it was. At Buffy’s look of confusion, all he said was he’d explain later and answered the call.

Cordy informed him that she’d handled everything and sent all the information to his work email address, knowing he could access it from home. He quickly thanked her and hung up before turning to face Buffy again. “Cordy made our flight arrangements so all you have to worry about is packin’ your things.”

“Our? Y-you’re going with me?” At his nod, she asked, “Why?”

“`Cuz I care. And I don’ think `s a good idea for you to travel alone right now. I promise I’ll stay out of the way durin’ the ceremony and such, but… I jus’ wanna be there for you and support you, if tha’s okay?” At the first sign of the smile forming on her lips, he breathed easier, knowing she was alright with it and he hadn’t taken things too far by including himself in her plans.

“Thanks,” she whispered then gave him a quick hug before pulling back to comment on his clothes. “Sorry I got you all wet.”

“`S only a shirt, luv.” He shrugged. “Tell ya what.” An idea came to mind when seeing it was going on ten o’clock already. “Why don’ I go change real quick like and then make us both some tea. It’ll help you to get some rest. We don’ have to be up `til nine, so you’ll have plenty `f time to pack tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek then got off his lap to let him up.

By the time they’d finished their tea, Buffy was more than ready for bed, but when Spike stood and offered his hand to her, she shook her head. “I… I really… don’t wanna be alone tonight,” she whispered.

The pleading look in her eyes was all it took for him to ask, “Want me to stay with you? Here on the couch?”

“Only i-if you don’t mind.”

As if she had to worry about that! “Be more than happy to, pet. Jus’ gonna grab a blanket and some pillows and I’ll be right back.” And as he went to do that, it occurred to him that while he was indeed getting to spend the night with Buffy in his arms, he really hated the circumstances under which it was occurring.

Buffy spread out the blanket while he threw down the pillows and then waited for him to lie down first before joining him. They left only the small light over the stove in the kitchen on but it was enough that they could see each other as she turned on her side to face him. Raising her hand, she gently ran it down the side of his cheek, smiling softly at him. She didn’t need any courage to tell him what was on her mind this time. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Though stunned by her admission, he never let it show. Instead, he took her hand and kissed her palm before telling her something that came straight from his heart. “And you’ll never have to find out… if I have any say in it.”

It was in that moment she was able to set aside her sadness and recognize that this man had bravely laid his hopes bare at her feet, for better or worse. And the look in his eyes, the anticipation she found there swimming in the blue depths that held her gaze made her realize how much he’d come to mean to her. Leaning in, she kissed him gently on the lips; her feelings for him growing that much more as he tenderly kissed her back. When at last they pulled away from one another, she gave him his hope, his crumb. “You will.”

~~~*~~~

Wednesday………

Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever needed to depend on anyone other than herself. And truthfully she hated the very idea of it. She was strong, resourceful, a take charge and get it done kind of woman no matter the problem or situation.

Not last night.

She never could have anticipated her reaction to the news Willow had given her, or lack thereof. While she just sat there unable to move, unable to wrap her mind around what had happened, Spike stepped up to the plate, setting everything that needed to be taken care of in motion. And afterwards, he was at her side to offer her comfort, reassurance and the guarantee he’d be there to support her emotionally without interfering during the gathering or funeral if she didn’t want that.

She didn’t want that. She needed it, needed him. And she meant it when she said she didn’t know what she’d do without him. He’d held her together in more ways than he could have imagined, especially on the plane ride to California.

She didn’t feel much like talking during the first hour of the flight and he didn’t try to make her either. But when she finally gathered the courage to ask exactly how Xander had died, he explained it briefly and – gratefully - without much detail while holding her hand. She felt like weeping again, but the tears weren’t forthcoming. Instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder and began telling him random stories of her close knit group of friends, how they’d grown up together from Kindergarten through graduation. It felt nice. To be able to reminisce, to verbalize her best memories of Xander through the years and to have Spike simply sit there and listen.

After they landed and got their rental car, Buffy insisted he drive while giving him directions to Willow’s house. With the amount of time it took them to get to California and then to Sunnydale, there was forty minutes to spare before having to be present at Xander’s parents’ home. So going to the hotel to change wasn’t an option at the moment. She called Willow quickly to let her know she’d be there shortly and then hung up so she could guide Spike around her old neighborhood.

Spike was in awe of the town she grew up in. It was quaint in that suburban sort of way. The pace seemed slower, the houses nicely spaced apart allowing for large front and back yards. Some even had the proverbial white picket fences. Yeah, a nice ‘fifties’ feel to it, a safe environment where there was probably a sense of community, the kind you wanted to raise children in. He wondered why Buffy would leave all this behind for a grueling, competitive city atmosphere like New York. Maybe between her mother’s death and her nasty breakup with Riley she didn’t want to linger in a place that held such painful memories. Maybe.

Now they were standing on Willow’s front porch, each holding their own suitcase that contained the appropriate clothing for tonight’s get-together while waiting for someone to answer the door.

It was Willow who greeted them, a small smile on her face at seeing her friend again before inviting them inside. She ushered them into the living room where Oz sat on a sofa next to Anya, Xander’s high school sweetheart and wife. Spike could feel the air around them, thick and oppressive, making it difficult for him to breathe as he focused on the faces he recognized from Buffy’s photo album all sharing the same somber look. The silence seemed to stretch out as he just stood there at Buffy’s side until he became painfully aware that everyone was staring at him, causing him to cough and shift uncomfortably. He never mentioned to Oz that he was coming, only that he’d take care of getting Buffy here.

The lack of noise seemed to bring Buffy to attention, too, and she realized that no one knew who Spike was or even that she was bringing anyone with her. But before she had a chance to speak, Willow embraced her for a long hug. Once they separated, she glanced at Spike to politely ask who he was.

Buffy looked up at him and must have seen the lost expression on his face. She hesitated momentarily while everyone awaited her answer… then did something that blew him away. She smiled, linked her hand in his and spoke without ever turning to face them.

“This is William Giles or Spike, as he prefers to be called, and he’s…………… he’s my friend.”

It wasn’t the soft look in her eyes or the quick squeeze she gave to his hand. It was that she used the term friend. She easily could have told them he was her roommate, her boss, anything else… but she didn’t. He was deeply moved by her words and could see within her beautiful green gaze that she honestly meant them, remembering that she’d told him what a relationship really boiled down to was friendship.

Thinking back to when they first met, he was well aware it’d been nothing more than a physical infatuation he had for this woman that - due to his wounded pride from her rejection – turned obsessive rather than fizzle out. Over time, however, it blossomed of its own accord into something far more complicated. It became something he didn’t understand, had never felt before and even fought along the way until only recently. But now that he acknowledged his feelings for her, he realized just how right she was.

No relationship could survive if the fundamental elements of friendship weren’t present: a combination of mutual respect, trust, loyalty, communication, understanding and support. It meant valuing that other person. According to this definition, yes, they were indeed friends and had forgiven each other for all the ugly moments they’d gone through in order to move beyond them.

To hear her say she considered him a friend also meant she recognized their potential to evolve into something more. She’d said as much on the day he’d cornered her in the Jacuzzi, though not in those exact words. But it was there - the foundation on which they would hopefully build a future together.

All he could do for now was to continue to be patient, not an easy feat for him, but he knew she’d be well worth the wait. And when love finally beckoned, he would follow with no reservations.

Everyone accepted Spike into their group with nods and smiles. Oz came over to slap him on the back a few times in a manly hug after realizing it was him he’d talk to over the phone. Even Willow and Anya got up to hug him which truthfully made him a bit uncomfortable despite Buffy having told him how close they all were.

Willow showed them where they could change and even offered to put them up for the night in the spare room with an air mattress but Buffy was quick to tell her they’d already booked a hotel room. When the redhead frowned, Buffy told her that they’d spend the evening with them after the gathering but that she never intended to put her out on such short notice - given the circumstances - and that it was nothing personal. Willow seemed satisfied with her answer but made her promise to come over for breakfast the next morning and stay until the funeral was over and they had to fly back.

~~~*~~~

The group of friends spent two hours with Xander’s parents and their respective relatives, before leaving. Buffy and Spike went to check into their hotel and change into more comfortable clothes before returning to Willow’s house.

The five of them hung out for several hours, the men having a couple of beers while Buffy, Anya and Willow shared a bottle of wine, none of them looking to become intoxicated but rather to take the edge off their nerves, to relax. They all sat in the living room, recalling different memories of Xander which sometimes led to laughter and other times to tears.

Buffy noted with curiosity that while Spike had been right there throughout it all to offer his shoulder when she periodically wept, he had otherwise remained ‘distant’. He seemed awfully quiet and very uneasy when he had to exchange hugs with anyone, particularly the relatives who mistook him as another one of Xander’s friends.

Now that it was getting closer to eleven, Buffy announced she really felt the need to get some rest after the long day they’d had and the one they had yet to face tomorrow. After agreeing on a time to come back for breakfast, everyone said their goodbyes and the blond couple left.

Spike still hadn’t said much of anything, not during the drive to the hotel, once they’d gotten there and unpacked or even after they took turns showering. Earlier, she’d dismissed his behavior thinking he just felt out of place, like an outsider because he didn’t know anyone. But this didn’t seem to be the case anymore since he had yet to say one full sentence. This coming from a man who rarely kept his mouth shut no matter where he was and especially around her had her concerned.

As she sat on the bed combing her hair out, she watched him lying in his own bed, looking very much like he was reading his book. But when she didn’t see the familiar left to right scan of his eyes – plus the fact he hadn’t turned the page in some time - she knew something was wrong.

Spike nearly jumped out of his skin with surprise when Buffy came to sit on the bottom corner of his bed, folding her legs Indian style as she stared at him. “You alright, pet?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” His only response was a look of bewilderment. “I noticed you’ve been rather quiet since we arrived and you seem kinda… far away.”

He shrugged, offering her smile. “`M fine. My only real concern is you.”

As touching as that was, she didn’t believe him… not entirely anyway. He was hiding something from her and she was determined to find out what because it bothered her to see him acting this way. When he tried to bury his face back in his book, she carefully reached out and took it from him, thankfully without any form of protest on his part.

“Hey,” she said softly, waiting until his eyes met hers. “This is me here. Please talk to me, Spike, you’re worrying me.”

And he could tell that she was, all evening long, too, judging from the sideways glances she’d occasionally shot him. It was exactly the reason he didn’t want to say anything. She currently had enough on her plate to deal with and telling her about his mixed up feelings would only burden her so he’d refrained. He was going to stick to his plan and avoid the subject, but in true Buffy form she was staring at him with those wide pleading eyes that begged him to open up to her in a way he knew he couldn’t deny.

So, with a heavy sigh, he told her, “Was somethin’ Anya said when we first arrived. `Bout there bein’ only so many moments you can be with that special someone in your life and not to go wastin’ `em.” Hopefully he’d said enough and she’d leave it alone.

“I see.” But she didn’t, not really. “Go on.”

Bugger. “I don’ know how to… I jus’ don’ understand how all this happens. The process, you know? I didn’ know the bloke, sure, but… how’s a person s`posed to grieve?” He waited for an answer but all he got from her was a nod for him to continue. “I've never done this before. Grieved. Gone through losin’ someone. I mean, I only knew `bout him through you and listenin’ to your friends and then... he's not there...there's jus’ a body... bloody hell, not even that!”

Now she was beginning to understand. He’d never lost anyone close to him, so the whole grieving process he was witnessing through her and her friends was foreign to him. He was really stressing out over it and she felt for him. Being a control freak, much like herself, she could empathize. After all, she was at a loss last night before it sunk in and the tears began. And the more he talked, the more frustrated she could see he was becoming, so she was determined to let him get it all out before responding.

“I don' understand why Xander can’ jus’… get back in his body and not be dead anymore. `S a stupid thought, I know, but mortality seems stupid. And I watched you cry and then sometimes not talk at all.” It’d crippled him every time he watched her sob, hurt inside his chest fiercely that he couldn’t make her stop, couldn’t make it better. “And when I was havin’ a beer I thought... Xander will never have another beer. He'll never get to shag his wife again or have another chance to tell her he loves her. And even if someone explained it to me, `m still not sure whether I'd understand or not."

And that’s what brought him to his knees, the whole idea of death. That someday, everyone would die. And those moments Anya had spoken of not to waste? He was scared he’d never have those. That Buffy may not be willing to be his someone special when she finally made up her mind. Then when he died, he’d die alone. With no one left behind that loved him, to remember him, mourn for him… nothing!

Buffy could tell that he didn’t notice he’d stopped talking or that there were unshed tears in his eyes. Her heart went out to him but she truly didn’t know what to say. Any words right now would seem like a petty attempt at making sense out of something so complex and to the depth he was obviously feeling it. Her own eyes watered as she moved forward to wrap him up in her arms and he immediately clutched her waist, hauling her as close to his body as he could before burying his face in her neck. They stayed like that for a long time, each giving and taking solace from the other in equal measure during the silence.

When Spike finally lifted his head, he had to close his eyes against the tender feel of her tiny thumbs wiping away his tears. He almost laughed at the irony of the situation. He was supposed to be here to support and comfort her. Not the other way around. But she was an angel, his Buffy, so amazing and so very beautiful as he raised his heavy lids to witness her smile. And it soothed him to the point that he didn’t want to think anymore about death, about not having her in his life, about anything. “Make me forget. Jus’ for a li’l while?” his plea was barely a whisper.

Her answer was to lift his covers and crawl underneath, holding them up until he did the same. She reached out and switched off the bedside lamp before turning over to crawl into his waiting arms. He clung to her, weeping silently, trying to hide it and she was still at a loss for words. She wasn’t even sure what he wanted her to make him forget. Leaning her forehead against his, she repeatedly ran her fingers through his hair slowly and hoped he would tell her more. “What do you want to forget?” It took him a few seconds before he spoke, and when he did, what he told her shook her to the core.

“Those moments and that special someone? For me that’s you, Buffy, and I… I jus’ wanna pretend that you... A-at least for a li’l while.” He sucked in an anxious breath, afraid how she’d react over what he was about to ask of her. “Make me forget. Please? Pretend that you care `bout me… if only for tonight?”

Buffy was awestruck at the raw pleading she heard in his voice, the profound emptiness she saw in his sad eyes. Here was a man that projected confidence and swagger; never gave a glimpse of his true inner self away to anyone. To see him this humbled and needy in front of her made a lump form in her throat as her hand dropped from his head onto the blanket.

The tiny fingers trailing through his hair were suddenly gone and he cringed, waiting to feel the sting of her rejection. What he received instead was a miracle.

She pressed her lips against his softly, willing and able to give him more than what he’d asked for. “I don’t need to pretend.”

~~~*~~~

In the morning, Buffy woke up to Spike spooning himself against her back, holding onto her as if she were about to vanish. She took comfort in it, but it also had her thinking heavily about everything he’d told her before they went to bed.

Last night made it twice now that he’d exposed how he felt about her. Twice now he showed her how much power she held over him where his feelings were concerned. It was reassuring yet scary at the same time.

Reassuring in the sense that it ‘appeared’ he felt the same way about her as she did about him… but that’s exactly what made it so scary as well. No, make that terrifying because she had yet to make up her mind about them. She knew how she felt and that she was perfectly queued up to take the plunge and he would be more than happy if she did. But last time she let her feelings rule her actions she’d gotten burned, badly. And while this situation was entirely different, there were still things, factors she felt she had a right to fear.

Spike wasn’t that old, had transformed himself almost overnight and though it seemed genuine, she knew the impulsiveness that came with youth made people change their minds in the blink of an eye. This meant he could, too, whether she made him wait or let him in now. Plus there was always a chance that things wouldn’t work out over time because she may not be what he thought he wanted.

Again, it all came back to the issue of time. She felt damned if she went with her heart, damned if she didn’t by waiting too long. But maybe that was the safest route. To wait. If enough time passed and they both still felt the same way then they stood a stronger chance at having something long term. She was getting older now. Her biological clock was ticking and although she hadn’t thought about having kids as of yet, there was a chance he may want some eventually; if they ever made it to the altar that is. All the more reason to wait, to be sure.

Before she had a chance to dwell over the headache-worthy issues any longer, Spike slowly began to move behind her and then made that adorable purring sound, like Sebastian when he was happy only much deeper and way more masculine.

The first thing Spike noticed that clued him into the fact he wasn’t in his own bed or alone was the sweet feminine smell of wild flowers. He refused to open his eyes yet, choosing to linger in that state between waking and dreaming, inhaling the essence of the woman he was fast coming to realize meant the world to him. Having never stayed the night with any woman he slept with, this was a first – well, a third time since he'd known her. But he was grateful she was his first in this way.

“Good morning,” she said softly to let him know she was already awake.

Pulling her hair aside, he kissed the spot between her neck and shoulder, his rumbling voice murmuring back, “Good mornin’, pet.”

She shivered and melted, if it were possible to do both simultaneously. Yeah, she could shove aside her thoughts for now and just enjoy the feel of being with him. He tugged on her waist, encouraging her to turn over and face him so she obliged.

He looked in her eyes, willing her to see the gratitude he held for her compassion and understanding from last night. Saying thank you for it simply wouldn’t begin to cover how much it meant to him. He’d bared his soul and she hadn’t rejected him. And he loved her all the more for freely instilling hope in his heart.

“We need to get up before the alarm goes off,” she commented after seeing it was ten minutes before eight on the clock from over his shoulder. Better to separate now, she thought because the longer he looked at her, the more tempted she was to kiss him, morning breath be damned.

“Yeah,” he agreed, giving her waist a quick squeeze before releasing her and rolling away to get up.

~~~*~~~

Anya had chosen to stay the night at her in-law’s place so she wasn’t present for breakfast at Willow’s. Once the meal was through, Oz and Spike collected the dirty dishes to place in the sink before Willow shooed them out into the living room, leaving her alone with Buffy so they could chat.

Telling her the plans she had for cooking several one-dish meals for both Anya and Xander’s parents so they had less to think about over the next several days, Buffy immediately asked for another apron so she could help. They still had several hours before the funeral and it felt good to be distracted by doing something nice like this for them.

By the time they had several different casseroles, lasagna, chili and what not prepared to just pop in the oven or over a stove, it left them with about an hour to get ready for the ceremony.

With everyone dressed in the stereotypical black attire for the occasion, both couples piled into Oz’s van and drove to Sunnydale Memorial Park. Willow quickly explained that Anya thought Xander would want his ashes spread there next to the small pond. It was where they’d all spent the majority of their childhood and adolescence hanging out and the memories the place held were of their best of times. His ashes were divided up into several small boxes, so that each person, save for Spike, could say their silent goodbyes in their own way before releasing him into the wind.

Arriving at a small clearing which was taped off gracefully with a ‘Funeral in progress’ sign in case there were other visitors to the park, the four of them took up their places in the borrowed chairs from the church where Xander’s parents attended.

Spike still felt uneasy, being the only stranger amongst a group of people who’d known each other their whole lives and under such depressing circumstances, too. Based off what he’d seen on television, this was a most unconventional funeral. But it didn’t stop the gloom of grey clouds that rolled in to cover the sun, a miserable reminder to everyone what this day was about.

He sat next to Buffy at the very end of the front row just holding her hand while the preacher gave a homily. Nearly everyone there was crying or sniffling and his girl was no exception. He’d given her his cloth handkerchief when she first started and wrapped an arm around her when she leaned against him.

There were a few eulogies given by relatives, but Willow was the only one of Xander’s friends who had the emotional strength to stand up and give her own. But the redhead became so choked up shortly after talking about how he’d broken her yellow crayon in kindergarten that Oz quickly came to her aid and brought her back to her seat.

The preacher took the small boxes containing the deceased’s ashes and handed them to the appropriate people before taking his place at the head of the crowd and saying a final prayer.

“In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord, Jesus Christ, we entrust our brother Xander’s soul to Almighty God. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. May the Lord bless him and keep him, make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace. Amen.”

“Amen,” the word echoed back poignantly by all present, bringing the service to an end.

Everyone slowly dispersed; some helping to gather up chairs and such while Xander’s parents came to stand before his widow and the two young couples. Thanks or any other pleasantries were out of order so they simply hugged everyone present and agreed to meet at the church for the wake after each took care of their individual goodbyes.

Spike followed Buffy as she walked towards a tree near the embankment of the pond, standing back several paces to give her some privacy. He could just make out her quiet mumblings, but whether she was talking to herself, Xander or perhaps God himself, he couldn’t tell. Her shoulders shook when she was through, making him want to go and comfort her but he stopped himself knowing she needed to do this by herself.

Opening the box, she swiftly threw its contents up high in the air, watching with a sad smile as the light breeze took care of the rest. She turned to make her way towards Spike who stood there motionless, his hands clasped in front of him, blue eyes trained on her approach. When she reached him, he handed his handkerchief back to her and she moved to stand by his side, taking hold of his hand while staring at the place she’d left her friend behind, feeling hollow inside.

“Love and death,” he solemnly mused out loud.

Though he continued looking straight ahead, she turned to him and asked, “What?”

“The only two things in this world that have the power to change everything……… love and death.”

It seemed such a simple thing to say, but the impact it had on her ran deep as she stared at him in awe.

“I see it now. `S not how long you live, but how you live that life and… and Xander’s was full `f love. And people who love him.” He shoved his free hand in his pant’s pocket and let out a sigh. “Somehow, I think he knows that and-” turning to face her, he told her, “-I think he’d want you to know that and for you to have the same. Live your life and be happy with however much time you’re given.”

“Yeah,” she whispered while nodding, clutching his hand tighter.

~~~*~~~

After the wake, Spike and Buffy went to the hotel to change back into casual clothes, check out of their room and then drove to Willow’s to spend an hour with her and Oz before having to head to the airport. The change in time zone and the six hour flight made for an exhausted pair of blonds by the time they landed in New York at one AM on Friday.

Each toting their individual suitcases while heading towards the exit, Spike happened to spot one of those photo booths… and had an idea.

“Come on, pet.” Taking hold of her free hand, he all but dragged a bewildered looking Buffy behind him towards the booth.

After setting his things down and fishing through his wallet for money, Buffy had a pretty good idea what he was up to and immediately tried to protest. “Spike, I’m not in the mood to have my picture taken. I’m tired, cranky and-”

“And tha’s exactly why we’re doin’ it,” he finished for her while grabbing her belongings to set them alongside his. Putting his money in the machine, he yanked her inside and closed the curtain. “I miss your smile and this here is perfect for makin’ you. Now smile.” But she frowned at him after he wrapped an arm around her, ruining the first shot.

“Don’ make me bloody tickle you, Summers,” he warned, but it went unheeded as the second click caught her with her mouth open ready to give him her two cents.

“I look horrible right now, Spike, please don’t do this to me.” And the third click caught her glaring at him.

“You’re always beautiful to me,” his voice softened as he ran his knuckles down her cheek. “And `m gonna keep shovin’ my money in this blasted thing `til you smile… for me.”

She cursed him for being so caring towards her and relented. Evil, evil……… sweet man, she had to admit. Facing the camera as he leaned his head against hers, she allowed herself a straight face as the last picture was taken.

Stepping out of the booth, Spike waited impatiently for the strip of film to slide out, grinning happily when he got it and saw the last photo. “Perfect.” Even in black and white he thought they made a very good looking couple. Maybe I’ll dress it up a bit, he thought to himself, get it blown up to a bigger size. Though she didn’t technically smile like he wanted, neither did he when the camera went off. But somehow, it’d captured them perfectly.

~~~*~~~

Having dumped her luggage in her room and thrown on some night clothes, she came back into the kitchen to see Spike had made them both tea and was waiting for her at the table to join him.

“Think you should stay home tomorrow, luv. No one expects you to come back to work the day after a funeral.”

“No.” Shaking her head emphatically, she gave him her reasoning. “No, I’d rather be occupied, stay busy than to be here alone and have too much time to think.” She bent over to pick up Sebastian when he came over rub his body against her bare ankle, begging for attention.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s what I prefer.” She put the kitten in her lap and stroked his back. “Thank you for being there, for coming with me.”

Placing a hand over hers he smiled. “No need to thank me, pet. Though `m gonna have to get somethin’ nice for Cordy for everythin’ she did. Any ideas?”

Chuckling, she told him a sizeable gift card to any of the top places to shop would probably be the best way to thank her.

“Well, tha’s easy enough. I’ll pick one up tomorrow. You ready for bed?”

Downing the rest of her tea, she nodded. “More than ready. I swear I could sleep for a week.” She took both their cups and placed them in the sink, smiling to herself when she turned around to find Spike waiting for her, holding his hand out so he could walk her to her room.

Once he bid her goodnight and disappeared into his own room, she realized just how drained she felt. Sleep, however, was anything but forthcoming despite how tired her body and mind were. She tossed and turned endlessly over the next hour and a half until she couldn’t take it any longer. There was nothing on her mind, not really. Just an itchy, restless feeling she couldn’t shake.

“This is ridiculous,” she said to herself as she got out of bed, determined to go into the living room and find something to read or maybe watch some boring late night TV, hoping it’d make her fall asleep. But by the time she rounded the corner and looked at the sofa, she realized it wasn’t going to work. Oh, it was a comfortable enough place to sleep alright, but there was one thing it lacked… Spike.

She didn’t want to disturb him by any means; God knew he needed his rest just as much as she did. But her feet were carrying her to his bedroom anyway, somehow knowing he wouldn’t mind. Turning the doorknob slowly, she slipped quietly into his room and went to his bed to sit down.

“Spike? Spike, are you awake?” she whispered, but all she heard was the continuous sound of his snores, a sign that he was in a deep sleep. As carefully as she could, she raised the covers and slid beneath them.

He was on his back, one arm stretched out in her direction, the other lying across his bare chest. Inching herself closer to him, she laid her hand on top of his, knowing the contact was what she needed more than just being able to lay next to him.

She closed her eyes and sighed with relief once she was able to rest her head on his shoulder without waking him. A few moments later, however, his body twitched and she felt him trying to lift the arm under her cheek. She held her breath when he shifted on to his side facing her, hoping he was still asleep. No such luck however when she heard his groggy voice speak her name.

“Buffy?”

“I… I couldn’t sleep, so I kinda let myself in. You don’t mind… do you?”

“Mmmm,” he moaned in response and curled his arm in order to drag her body close to his. “Not at all, kitten. Feel free to stay with me every night. I sleep better when you’re with me anyway.”

“Thanks.” Apparently she wasn’t the only one who’d grown addicted to this. If sleeping with Spike were a drug, she was fast becoming a junkie. And she feared she wanted no part of any cure.

He nuzzled his nose just underneath her ear and purred while pressing a gentle kiss in the curve of her neck, causing her to shiver. Seemed he’d found an erogenous zone she didn’t know existed. Thank God it was only a matter of seconds before he was softly snoring again. The idea of sharing the same bed with him every night was becoming more and more appealing, but she knew they couldn’t keep doing this. It would eventually lead to physical intimacy, and she just wasn’t ready for that… yet.

Friday morning………

As both blonds settled behind their desks and opened their laptops, they were equally shocked to see they had absolutely nothing on their agenda. Buffy looked dumbfounded while Spike just lifted an eyebrow and shrugged before offering his thoughts.

“Guess Cordelia didn’ expect us to come in today either and cleared our schedule completely.” He quickly glanced back at the calendar to see if she’d moved any of their workload forward to Monday, relieved when he saw nothing more than Buffy’s weekly department report to go over. It was a habit of his not to schedule meetings at the beginning of the week. It was the worst day to try and sell anybody anything in his opinion.

“I guess I can go into research mode, start checking out some new leads. Then maybe do some follow up phone calls from our previous meetings to see where we stand?” she suggested.

“Can if you want, pet. But tha’s not gonna take you an entire day.” The second she appeared disappointed he felt awful. She’d insisted on coming to work as a distraction rather than stay at home, which got him to thinking. If all she needed was a diversion, perhaps one of a different nature was in order, one that didn’t involve work.

“Are you ready for the ball tomorrow night?” he asked, thinking maybe a little shopping right now would lift her spirits and he’d stay here and cover for her.

“Unfortunately, yes. I so hate going to those things.”

Well, that bollocksed that idea up.

“Same here,” he admitted. “Can’ stand watchin’ people go to these parties and instead of jus’ enjoyin’ themselves, use it as an opportunity for brown nosin’ the higher ups.” That made her start chuckling.

“Like you for instance?”

Reclining back in his chair, he let out an irritated sigh. “Regrettably, yes. Feel like a bloody broken record when tellin’ them I don’ talk business at social functions. `Course I don’ plan on stayin’ long. Two, maybe three hours at the most.”

“Ditto. Less if I can get away with it.”

“Oi! You’re not plannin’ to ditch me are you, li’l girl?” Waggling his brows at her, he teased, “That wouldn’ be very nice to do to your boss, now would it?”

“Oh really?” Deciding to play wicked, she gave him a saccharin smile while lacing her fingers beneath her chin, elbows resting on the desk. “And here I distinctly remember you said you thought of me as your partner. Just for that, Mr. Giles-” she winked at him. “-need I remind you that I can fake womanly problems like cramps whereas you can’t? Which I just might do anyway and leave you stranded if you don’t take that back right now.”

Matching her pose and equally barbed grin, he took it back, but not without getting another jab in. “Right then. I take it back. Though as your partner, I should point out that if we’re both gonna stick together, concoct a plan to cut out early, you should know you’re not completely ready for this ball… as a woman.”

“Excuse me?” Wondering what he was playing at, she informed him, “I have the gown, shoes, jewelry and purse. I’d say I pretty much got all my bases covered.”

Boy did she fall right into his trap. “`Cept your roots.”

“Huh?”

He wanted to laugh when her cute little nose scrunched up in confusion. Pointing at her head, he explained, “Your roots are showin’. Need to go get a touch up.”

Ohhhh, evil man. She held her sweet smile steady however when telling him, “So are yours.” He may be right, but she wasn’t about to let him get the last word in. Blinking several times at him with an innocent face, she asked, “Want me to pick up some bleach on the way home for you? We could make a night of it. Do each other’s nails, dye our hair, make smoothies.”

“Saucy bint.” Shaking his head with a small chuckle, he had to admit he loved how she always managed to cut him down. “Got a proposal for you.” Their banter had given him another idea, something he thought she’d enjoy more than just sitting here in the office all day.

“Do tell.” She feigned interest while watching him stand up and reach into his back pocket to produce his wallet.

Pulling out a few bills, he walked over to sit on the corner of her desk with one leg and placed the money in front of her. “Need you to go to an appointment for me.”

“One that requires five hundred dollars?” Now she was confused as she looked down at the spread of Ben Franklins.

“You’re right. You’ll need more since you’ll be gone for quite awhile.” He pulled out five more and slapped them down on top of the pile.

“Where exactly am I going?”

“To see that Lorne bloke.” After shoving the money closer to her, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Want you to get your hair done, nails, massage… the works. Get all prettied up for tomorrow night.”

“Spike-” she rolled her eyes. “-I appreciate what you’re trying to do but-”

“Then do jus’ that. Appreciate it. And jus’ so you know, `m not tryin’ to buy you. There’s nothin’ here to do today and you said you wanted to stay occupied, right?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I meant.” Oh no, not that! As soon as he got down on one knee in front of her and pouted, she knew she wasn’t going to win this argument.

Turning her chair towards him, he took her hands in his. “As far as anyone knows, I sent you on an appointment. You deserve to be pampered, luv. Go. Enjoy yourself. Do it for me.”

Damnit, he did the head tilt thing and started rubbing the tops of her hands with his thumbs. “Alright. I’ll call and see if I can get in today but they might be booked solid. Fridays usually are.”

“Tell him you’ll pay triple the goin’ rate then.” His girl was going if he had to pay ten times the amount.

“If I didn’t think you were trying to be selfless here…” she trailed off, giving him a pointed look.

“Oh, but `m not, kitten,” he said with a lascivious smirk. “Not entirely anyway.”

“What’s the catch?” If she truly didn’t believe he was being altruistic, if this were any other man, she’d have laid him out flat.

“We sort `f… represent each other, you see? So havin’ you all gussied up and lookin’ sexy `s to my benefit.”

“So I’m being reduced to arm candy now?” She posed the question as a fact. And again he waggled his brows at her suggestively. Taking her hands back from his, she folded her arms over her chest and tried to look cross with him, failing miserably. “You are such a pig, Spike.”

At her traitorous smile, he provoked her some more. “Not true, luv. If I were, I’d be askin’ you to get that pretty li’l arse `f yours waxed, too.”

Shoot! That was definitely on her list of things to get done anyway, though he wouldn’t be privy to that information. She learned her lesson the first time around. Quick as lightening, she pushed his shoulder with her palm, knocking him off balance so he landed on his ass. And just for good measure, she stood up to plant her size six Jimmy Choo on him to keep him down. “Do you want me to go or not?”

“`M jus’ kiddin’, honest. You know that, right, pet?” he asked timidly. At least he hoped so even if secretly, he wanted her to get it done just so he could use the imagery when he was alone in the shower.

“You’re lucky that I do.” And the smirk returns.

“Have to admit though… I kinda like this position. You. Grindin’ your heel into my chest. Kinky an-OUCH-okay-alright, I’ll stop.” Minx started doing just that and bloody hell if those heels weren’t as sharp as her tongue. “Buffy, I swear `m only jokin’.”

“I’ll just bet,” she accused lightly. Removing her foot and holding out a hand, she helped him up.

“Sorry. Couldn’ help teasin’ you a bit.”

With her hands on her hips she sighed as those wintry blue eyes captured hers, asking him somewhat seriously, “What am I going to do with you?”

Love me, be mine forever. “S’pose `m young enough that you can train me to your likin’.” She cracked a huge smile at that while looking down at her feet, trying to hide it. “Knew I could get a grin.” Reaching out, he tilted her chin up with a fingertip so he could see her.

“I just might take you up on that offer, Mr. Giles.” Shit! I cannot believe I actually just said that. He was going to be the death of her, making her think out loud like that.

Hearing her say those words made hope flutter in his chest and the adorable flush in her cheeks that followed after only encouraged him to let her know, “`M all yours.” Because it was true. He was already her slave, she already owned him… she just didn’t know it.

“Guess I-I better… call for that appointment now.” His response to her slip of honesty and the way he was staring at her so intensely made her want to kiss him, really kiss him. Yeah, he definitely had thrall. Good thing they were here at work where that so couldn’t happen. If they were home and she acted on that impulse, she wasn’t so sure she’d want to stop whatever happened next.

“You do that, pet.” Nodding as she sat back down, he could tell what he’d said made her nervous. Unfortunately, that was one bad habit she’d never break him of. And that was his tendency to be blunt, especially when it had anything to do with her.

~~~*~~~

Once Buffy’d left the office to go to the salon, Spike pulled out the tiny picture of them from the photo booth at the airport. He sat there running his finger over it with a smile on his face when someone appeared in the doorway and cleared their throat.

“Why did I just see Buffy leave saying she was going on an appointment? Alone? That you sent her on?”

Looking up to find Cordelia glaring at him, all he could manage was, “Huh?”

“Buffy? Here today? At work?”

“Oh, right. She refused to stay home. Said she’d rather be distracted by comin’ in.” And as her friend raised an accusatory eyebrow, all he could do was shrug. “Look, I told her she should take today off, but `m sure you know when Buffy has her mind made up `bout somethin’, there’s nothin’ anyone can do to change it.”

“Point taken,” she agreed. “But do you really think she should be meeting with any clients by herself? Unless they’re of the young and rich variety in which my question would be, do you think she should be meeting them without your presence?”

He motioned for her to step inside his office and close the door. As soon as she did, he told her the truth. “I didn’ send her out to work, I sent her to the salon with `nough money to spend a few hours and jus’ relax.”

She stomped her foot and stared at the ceiling to ask herself, “Why does she get all the luck when it comes to men?” Hearing him chuckle, she focused her attention back to him. “Well, at least that means I won’t have to break a nail while smacking you for being insensitive.”

“`M tryin’ to do the right thing by her, I promise.”

“Yes-” she stalked towards him in full protective-friend mode. “-I can see that. And speaking of… exactly what are your intentions towards her?”

“Don’ pull any punches, do you?” Bloody hell she was a downright scary woman. So was Buffy. But Cordelia had a worldly air about her that said she saw things for exactly what they were while Buffy seemed more innocent. He respected that. “They’re honest, I swear it.”

“I don’t doubt they are. But you and I both know what you were like when you first got here and how you treated her. So again… what are your intentions?”

She planted her hands on the desk in front of him, trapping him in. He couldn’t get out of this without giving her a straight answer and because she and Buffy were friends, perhaps it would help if he explained his attraction to Buffy as well as his motives.

He never got the chance.

Glancing down at the small set of pictures of the two blonds, her eyes snapped back to his and widened. “Oh my, God. You’re in love with her!”

Spike paled. Apparently he’d grossly underestimated this woman’s power of perception. “H-how did you, I mean… no, `f course not.” Loosening his tie, he began squirming under her scrutiny. He wasn’t going to tell her that. She might share it with Buffy and ruin his chances.

She made sure to give him her best ‘you don’t fool me look’ then turned around to leave, stopping before she opened the door to say, “Number one, tell her… don’t wait. Number two, you better treat her right. And number three, take that picture to a Kinko’s because I know you’re not going to try and touch it up yourself.”

Amazing. She may as well be a bloody mind reader, he thought, his mouth still agape as she walked out the door.

~~~*~~~

Using scissors, Spike carefully cut his favorite photo away from the rest to scan then save it on a memory stick before leaving to take Cordelia’s advice. He was glad he did. After seeing all the options he could use to enhance it, he had to ask a clerk to help him out. Then he got carried away, not only enlarging it but using a decorative border, adding in squares with their initials on it and had it changed to sepia tone. When he was satisfied with the results, he bought a simple frame for it and left for Fifth Avenue to get a gift card for Cordelia as a thank you for everything she’d done.

Turned out the best stores didn’t do gift cards so he went the extra mile… with one goal in mind.

“Ms. Chase, can I see you for a moment?” he asked as soon as he returned to work. She followed him into the break room where he held up a small envelope in his hand. “I figured you for a Prada girl, am I right?”

She nodded while inspecting her nails as if bored. “Stereotypes are so unfair.”

“Good. My next question-” he waved it in front of her face to get her to look at it. “-is how would you feel if I told you, you have to be there tomorrow mornin’ when they open `cause you have a personal shopping assistant waiting for you?” She perked up immediately.

“You now have my full attention. Please… do go on.”

Opening the envelope, he showed her a card that read ‘10:00 AM, Linda’ and just beneath it the sizeable dollar amount he’d decided on as a spending limit. When her eyes grew large and she tried to grab it out of his hand, missing when he pulled it away, he knew he had her right where he wanted her.

“This `s to thank you for takin’ care `f everythin’ for Buffy and I the other day, but…” he paused for emphasis.

“Are you trying to blackmail me with a but? Oh, you’re good, reeeeeeal good.” Cocking her head to one side, she asked, “Shall I take a guess?” But she didn’t give him an opportunity to answer before holding a hand up while telling him, “Never mind.” She smiled brightly after snatching the card out of his fingers before he could react. “Nothing comes between me and a spending spree, especially when I’m not the one paying for it. Besides, men are so transparent.”

“So you won’ say anythin’ to her?” By this time he was a little less shocked that she knew what he was going to ask her.

“Your memory bank is in desperate need of a deposit. I said this morning you need to tell her and hello… it’s your job, not mine.”

“Thanks, pet, really I-”

“Please don’t grovel, no one likes a groveler, plus there’s no need to thank me. My role as Buffy’s friend is to sit and listen to denial girl whine and pine.”

“Pine?”

“It’s in her voice. Not to mention you always hog the top spot of our discussions.”

“Really?” This definitely boosted his confidence and when she confirmed it with a ‘yes’, inflated his ego as well.

“Just don’t take too long. A girl likes to be pursued but she also needs reassurance. Take too long and she’ll start finding excuses not to give you a chance.” That being said, she left the room, hoping he took what she said to heart.

~~~*~~~

Buffy didn’t come back until almost two o’clock. She had that same placid look on her face as before when she’d gone to see Lorne only to a greater degree this time, since she stayed there for nearly five hours.

Spike leaned back in his chair, inspecting her with a smile on his face when she waltzed around his desk to hand his change back to him. “You like?” she asked as she flipped her hair over her shoulder then brought his attention to her French manicure.

“You look gorgeous, luv. How do you feel?”

“Hmmmm,” she sighed with her eyes closed. “Spoiled.”

“Good.” What he wouldn’t give to spoil her absolutely rotten… everyday. Hell, he planned on it. He’d dote on her with all of his money, time, love and affection, whatever he had or could do just to see her smile the way she was right now.

Leaning down, she gave him a brief kiss close to his ear, whispered her thanks then twirled around to head to her chair. As she opened her laptop, he wondered what work she thought there was left to do. “I already took care `f those follow up calls and even did some research. Landed us two appointments for next week.”

“That’s great. I’m just going to write up my weekly report. It shouldn’t take me more than a couple of hours and then I’ll probably head over to Willy’s.”

“Before you start…” Picking the bag up with the Kinko’s logo emblazoned on it, he stood and stretched his arm out to place it on her desk. “Wanna show you somethin’.” He sat back down and tried acting as casual as he could while watching her take it out. Inside, he was downright scared she might think he was being a presumptuous arse for presenting her with something that was generally considered, well, couple-y.

As she pulled out the eight by ten frame, all she could think was, wow. Oh… oh, wow! The image beneath the glass looked so vastly different from its original mini black and white form that she could scarcely believe it was the same photograph. It was positively stunning, almost antique like in appearance. And even though she wasn’t looking her best when this was taken, she had to admit… they made an attractive pair.





With this, with everything he’d done for her lately whether big or small, he was making it increasingly difficult for her to cling to her rational side that’d neatly filed him under W for ‘wait’. It scared her how fast and hard she’d fallen for him already, but what really freaked her out was that she found herself wanting him… just a little bit more every day.

When her eyes first landed on the photo, her sharp intake of breath had him holding his. Her nonverbal reaction was supposed to help him gauge how he’d explain why he did what he did. But other than her small gasp her expression was blank, forcing him to ask, “What do you think?”

“I don't like it.” Pausing for a moment to study it some more, she missed the way his face fell at her reply. “I love it,” she gushed, bringing it to her chest in a hugging gesture as she looked at him and smiled.

Bloody hell, he closed his eyes briefly, thank God! He didn’t even bother concealing his sigh of relief. She’d instantly crushed him with her first comment then turned around a second later and made his heart soar. “Was hopin’ you’d approve.”

The shy, boyish look on his face spoke volumes. The Big Bad was actually worried over how she’d react to something as thoughtful and beautiful as this? Well, she’d have to show him just how unfounded his fears were. Grateful the door to their office was closed; she laid the picture down and crooked her finger to beckon him to her. When he finally stood in front of her, she wrapped her fingers around his tie and gradually tugged it until they were face to face.

“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” She kissed the other cheek. “Thank you.” Pressing her mouth firmly against his, she let herself enjoy the thrilling feel of his soft lips on hers, her affection swelling warm within her chest as she gently kissed him for a brief moment then pulled away, releasing his tie. “For everything.”

He seemed to be in a daze, just staring at her while remaining bent at the waist. “Did I break you?” she asked with a giggle.

Shaking his head to pull himself out of his stupor, he replied, “N-no.”

Once he’d straightened to his full height, he slowly tilted his head to one side and smiled at her in a way she’d never witnessed before. When he told her ‘thank you’, she became confused.

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Jus’ for bein’ you.” For makin’ me feel more like a man than any other woman ever has.

She blushed slightly, nodded then turned her attention back to her computer, trying to conceal the happiness she felt at his words.

They didn’t talk much for the remainder of the day, but every now and then they’d throw each other longing glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. And later that evening when they were home, it was as if they’d reached an unspoken agreement not to break their newfound ritual of cuddling up together on the couch. Whatever played on the television made no difference to them; all they cared about was the shared sense of closeness that physical contact brought about, their bodies curled around one another in quiet comfort.

When it came time for bed, however, they went their separate ways.

Buffy didn’t want to, but she’d run out of excuses. Spike had done too good a job at keeping her happy all day, so she couldn’t in good faith claim she needed him with her in order to sleep… even if it was the truth.

And Spike… well, Spike didn’t want to push her, or his luck, terrified she’d say no if he asked her to stay with him. If he only knew she was suffering as much as he was, he might have gathered the courage to go to her.

So they were both left to toss and turn in their beds, sleep eluding them as they thought about one another being just down the hall, only a few steps away, their fear of the other’s reaction to do anything about their loneliness keeping them apart.

~~~*~~~

The next morning………

Buffy woke up way too early for a Saturday, and though she felt tired from lack of a good night’s rest she decided to go to the gym anyways… before Spike awoke.

They were together nearly twenty four seven and even if she enjoyed it, she felt she needed some alone time. Things Cordy had said to her last night at Willy’s, before she’d gone home, were now running through her mind and she seriously needed to contemplate the conversation while on the stair-master, rowing machine or something. So she left a note on the kitchen table for Spike to let him know where she was and when she’d be back, laughing at herself after she’d written it. That was something married couples did, not roommates. Though she had to admit even if they weren’t officially ‘together’, they were definitely more than just roommates.

Once she was jogging at a good pace on the treadmill, she recalled everything she could from the time she and Cordy arrived at the bar.

They’d sat together having a glass of wine and it didn’t take long before they started talking about Spike. Or rather it was Cordy who piped up and asked when she was going to finally end the poor guy’s misery and tell him she wanted him.

Buffy was appalled after hearing her say that and naturally denied it before her friend pinned her with a knowing stare.

She sighed in defeat. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re both way more obvious than the redhead-” she pointed a long fingernail to the other side of the bar. “-over there wearing that knock-off Vera Wang dress.”

“Oh-my-God! Have you actually ever heard of tact?”

“Tact is just not saying true stuff.” She shrugged. “I'll pass. Besides, you can’t tell me you haven’t seen the changes in him.”

“I can see he’s changed, Cordy, it’s… that’s not the problem. He’s still young, barely twenty three. You remember what it was like at that age, making a-a-a rash decision only to turn around and find it was the wrong choice. He could change his mind about me so easily and then where would that leave me?”

“True, but I think there’s every chance that won’t happen judging by the obvious turn around he’s made. I mean, wake up and smell the vanilla bean latte, no foam, extra shot of espresso. Do you want to wind up a wrinkled old prude with nothing more than a measly retirement check and half a dozen cats for company?”

“No,” she replied sheepishly. But if she were honest with herself, she knew she was headed in that direction. “But it was like what, nearly two weeks ago that he was trailing after anything that moved and now he says I'm his someone special, all what he wants? That’s a lot to take on faith.”

“Look, you didn’t hear the worry in his voice over you when he called me to help make trip arrangements for California. He knew you needed him and he went with you… not out of obligation or to get you in bed. No man goes to those lengths just for a quickie. Not only that, but after you got back he sent you to the spa and had a picture blown up of the two of you!!!” she stated incredulously. “That’s validation of how much he cares for you.”

“I guess, but I’m just not sure if I can… hold onto him, live up to whatever his expectations are.”

“You still don’t get it, do you? I may not be a relationship expert, but I know you’re all he wants, as in the only one he wants.”

“How?”

“He’s already committed to you, for who you are. Not someone he expects to change in the future.”

“I know it’s not my place to interrupt,” Willy suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “But I think Cordelia’s right. I admit I didn’t like the guy when I first met him, but I think you should give him a chance.”

“Really?” That was interesting, considering he offered more than once to ‘do something’ to Spike so he’d quit harassing her. “Why’s that?”

“From everything you’ve ever told me, and what I’m hearing now, it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s head over heels. And in all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you this emotionally hung up over any man.”

“That’s, that’s really not a reason.” she countered him politely.

So he tried again. "Look, the truth is that playboy got handed a brand new set of rules when you came along. He's had to play it by ear cuz he’s never seen anything like you. And I should know. I’ve seen it all! No way he wouldn't be in it for the long term, gunning for you the way that he has. He wouldn't have wasted this much time. Capiche?”

“Huh. When you put it like that…” It did make sense.

“You deserve to be happy, Buffy. So take a chance. After all… he is, too.”

Maybe it was time for them to have a talk, or… the talk. The idea scared the bejesus out of her but she needed to know what Spike thought about them, beyond the here and now.

Later, she decided as she walked into the locker room to ready herself to go home. If the opportunity even presents itself.

It did present itself, all day long matter of fact.

Spike was awake and already had breakfast on the table by the time she returned along with a soft kiss to her cheek when she sat down. Aside from showering and a few household chores, there was nothing but time - hence opportunity - until she had to get ready for the ball.

And it took her that long to dredge up the courage to broach the subject.

Dressed in loose fitting flannel PJs, her fingers worried a few loose fibers of her top that were fraying worse by the minute as she paced the floor of her bedroom. After wearing a visible path in the over-plush white carpet, she knew she couldn’t put this off any longer even if she still had no idea how to start this conversation with him.

Walking into the living room, it was no surprise to find him with his nose buried in a book wearing casual, lounging clothes. She felt a clear case of penis envy coming on. Here she’d spent ten minutes on her makeup, nearly twenty on her hair, and still had yet to style her tresses once the curlers did their job before she could even get dressed for the white tie affair. All he had to do was put on a tux and slick back his curls with some gel… so not fair.

Plopping down on the couch next to him with her hair wound up in white, hot rollers, Spike thought she never looked more adorable. When she drew her heels up to balance on the edge of the couch after grabbing an issue of Vogue, he stole a quick glance to admire her tiny toes painted in the same French manicure as her fingernails.

His eyes went straight back to his tome afterwards, so he didn’t notice how fidgety she really was until a few seconds later when she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly before speaking.

"Um, Spike? Can I, can I talk to you?"

He immediately laid his book in his lap after looking up to see her face was a mask of apprehensive curiosity. “Wha’s on your mind?”

“I need to… to-to ask you something.”

“You know you can ask me anythin’, pet,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone. It mystified him to see her like this… stuttering, body movements riddled with anxiety, her eyes darting around to land everywhere but on him.

“Uhmm… if we ever became a, a couple. You know… me, you, no one else… like-like exclusive or… committed o-or-” His chuckle interrupted her.

“Jus’ because I’ve never practiced it, doesn’ mean I don’ know what monogamy is, pet,” he joked. But she didn’t laugh and his body tensed as he leaned forward, wondering, is she askin’ what I think she's askin’?

“Right.” Her cheeks turned red at his playful wink, more out of her own unease than embarrassment. Just get it over with, she told herself because if she didn’t, she probably never would. “What I want to ask is if we ever… no, wait. God! I’m not saying it right.”

As she took another deep, steadying breath, he was on full alert. This was something big, something he had a niggling feeling he’d been waiting to hear.

“Would you ever… want that? Wait! M-maybe what I should ask… is what do you think of-of us? If there was to be an… us?

Trying to lift the palpable tension off her shoulders and his despite the seriousness of her question, he waggled his eyebrows while answering, “We’d be bloody amazin’ together, luv.”

God, he’s such an ass! But she found herself giggling regardless, knowing full well he was trying to diffuse her nervousness. “That’s not what I-”

“Meant. I know.” Laying his book aside, he scooted closer to her, took her magazine from her hands and flung it so she had nothing to focus on but him. “Before I answer, I have to ask... `S this the part where I get to have my say?” Her brows furrowed with confusion.

“I, I… don’t understand.”

“As to whether or not you ever have to find out what you’d do without me? Because if it is…”

“It is.” She understood instantly, remembered that conversation… vividly. And she meant what she said. She didn’t know what she’d do without him.

“Well, then.” This wasn’t something big. It was momentous. As surely as his heart was thundering in his chest, he knew any future he might have with her hung on the crucial thread of his answer.

“Everythin’ that’s happened from the moment we met, everythin’ tha’s ever gone wrong, I…” He hesitated when seeing the doubt that clouded her emerald depths from speaking of the past. “All ‘f it served a purpose, all the cruel jokes and impossible situations Murphy’s Law has thrown our way proves we were destined to be sittin’ here. Right now. Havin’ this conversation.” Taking her hand in his, he stroked her knuckles with his thumb, speaking softly as he tilted his head to the side. “I may be new to this, Buffy, but I know what I feel is real. All I can see is you and me.” Together forever, whispered through his mind but he didn't say it. He swallowed hard before asking, “Does that answer your question?”

“Y-yes… it does.”

She certainly didn’t sound convinced, and in a panic, he was quick to inquire, “Did-I-say-somethin’-wrong?”

"No.” She shook her head and smiled. “You said something right."

He didn’t know what to expect after she replied, but it definitely wasn’t for her to excuse herself from the room to finish getting ready.

Did she say that just to appease him since she didn’t expound upon anything of what he’d told her? Had he actually said the wrong things? Not possible, I told her the truth. Her words, her actions, however, left him with even more unanswered questions.

And then Cordelia’s voice floated through his head like a ghost to remind him he’d left out the most important part... “Tell her… don’t wait. Take too long and she’ll start finding excuses not to give you a chance.”

Running a frustrated hand over his face, he cursed himself for mucking up the moment. It wouldn’t deter him, though, nothing would. He knew what he had to do. Whatever patience he’d exercised with Buffy would be cast aside. Well, as soon as he knew when the time was right, that is. Tonight. `S gotta be tonight. They’d danced the dance for over a month now… and he’d waited long enough.


tbc………

Saturday evening………

Forty five minutes later, Spike was sitting in the recliner, bouncing one knee up and down agitatedly as he continually kept checking the clock. They were going to be late if Buffy didn’t get her arse out here now so they could leave.

“Women,” he muttered under his breath. “Already had her makeup on, all she had to do was take her curlers out and slip on a dress for Chris’ sa-” His thoughts were abruptly cut the second she walked into view, his mouth dried up and his jaw dropped. A bloody goddess she was. Put the very stars he enjoyed gazing at to shame. She was perfection, no, a paragon of feminine beauty and elegance. All he could think was mine, my girl, and how lucky, how blessed he was she’d be gracing his arm tonight.

Black had always been his favorite color, but his mind changed in a heartbeat when seeing the vision before him. He drank in the sight of the merlot colored gown with its layered silk chiffon material, delicate ruffles adorning it below the waistline. She must have noticed him staring because she held her arms slightly away from her sides, pirouetting twice for his inspection. From front to back, the boned bodice was laced in crisscrossed satin ribbon from her hips to just below her breasts, which were accentuated by the sexy cowl neckline and spaghetti straps. Her golden hair was pinned up, a few carefully chosen locks hanging tastefully in loose curls that framed her face. The opened toed heels on her feet revealed she’d repainted her toenails to match her dress. Well, that explains what took her so long.

Though his eyes were quite expressive, Buffy was slightly nervous because he’d yet to say a word. Clearing her throat, she asked, “You like Vera Wang?”

“Not as much as I like it on you, kitten.” And not nearly as much as he wished to peel it off her slowly… very slowly.

“You clean up pretty well yourself.” And that’s all I could come up with? Of course he always looked attractive whether it was in his infamous all black with leather duster attire or the sexy double breasted suits he wore to work. But this… this brought her to her knees.

Sure, she had an inkling as to how nice he’d look in formalwear, but watching him rise from the chair gradually, almost cautiously, any theories she’d had sadly lacked in imagination. From his patent leather shoes to the coat tailed jacket, he looked so… polished and refined that she swore he came across as older than his biological age. The traditional winged collar shirt with white satin bow tie and vest were a pristine white, a stark contrast to the black of his tuxedo. And somehow, the ensemble made his already gorgeous baby-blues stand out even more than usual. It made his eyes appear iridescent; gleaming in a silvery blue hue that had her so captivated… she wanted to faint.

“You look… look…” Dashing, handsome, sophisticated, debonair… She could have chosen any one of those words to compliment him with as he made his way towards her - if her brain could get beyond anything but GAH. He looked so sinfully delicious, that when she remembered their plan to stick together tonight, it occurred to her she had her own ‘arm candy’. And damn if she didn’t want to lick one of those razor sharp cheekbones with the tip of her…

“You-” He stopped directly in front of her, raising a tentative hand. “-look like an angel.”

He never touched her, but she could feel the heat of his ghostly caress, of his fingertips as they drew an outline down her hair, cheek and chin. His eyes held such awe, like he was seeing her for the first time, and it made her dizzy with the need to lean into his hand, make contact with the warm flesh of his gentle palm. Thankfully, he shook his head and stepped back, effectively bringing them both out of their stupor.

“Ready to leave, luv? Think we may miss part `f the cocktail hour, but as long as we make dinner, we’ll be fine.

“Yuh-huh.” She nodded dumbly as he turned around to retrieve her coat for her.

~~~*~~~

Spike bent his elbow, offering his forearm to Buffy and secured her fingers with his free hand once she took it. And together they entered the six thousand square foot luxurious ballroom of the Mandarin Oriental.

“Seems Mr. O’Connor just can’t turn down a chance to flaunt his wealth,” she commented dryly. Although she had to admit the atmosphere was overwhelming in its opulence. From floor to ceiling, the eighteen foot tall windows lined the walls, giving them a spectacular view of the Manhattan skyline and Grand Central Park. Three immense, oval chandeliers provided a sea of crystal that sparkled across the ceiling, softening the interior from the dramatic landscape outside.

The dining area was decorated in colors that either matched or complimented those of the company’s magazine cover. An extraordinary feat when considering purple tanzanite and polished platinum were difficult to replicate in flowers and fabric. But it looked beautiful, tastefully done with the utmost attention paid to every detail.

The main skirting of each table was a deep black-raspberry and the overlay drape a dovetail grey. Floral centerpieces embellished the overall look with an array of fragrant blossoms to include freesia, larkspur, lisianthus and eryngium.

Place cards at each setting made it clear people were grouped by department, so everyone sat near those they worked with. And just as Spike spotted his with Buffy’s beside it, a high pitched squeal of laughter speared his eardrums like a skewer. Turning his head towards the source of the deafening noise made him wish he hadn’t. Standing thirty feet behind him was Harmony, looking tackier than a bloody birthday cake in her cotton candy pink dress. He mentally grimaced, wondering what level of insanity had led him to invite her into his bed. Indeed, he’d sooner eat tripe than to ever again consort with a slut of her caliber.

He gently patted Buffy’s hand, more than grateful she came into his life, especially when she turned her pretty face to reward him with her warm smile.

“Come on, pet. Found our table. I’ll seat you then fetch whatever you fancy to drink?”

“Nothing alcoholic for me, thanks. But I could use a Diet Coke if you don’t mind?”

Giving her a wink, he escorted her forward and pulled the chair out for her, making sure she was situated comfortably before heading to the makeshift bar near the entrance of the room.

There were waiters and waitresses everywhere of course, bustling back and forth serving cocktails and hors d’oeuvres to the guests who chose to remain seated, but he didn’t mind making the personal trip to get his girl whatever she wanted. Plus it gave him a chance to thoroughly scope the place out, see if he could spot Liam or any of the other executives he knew he’d have to chat with before he could rightly excuse himself from the social niceties and focus solely on Buffy.

“I’ll have a Diet Coke and a dirty martini, please?” he asked the bartender, his eyes still scanning the room.

“Spike?”

Knowing he recognized that voice, he whipped his head around. “Willy? What’re you doin’ workin’ here, mate?” And why was he wearing Armani?

“Not working, just helping a friend out until dinner starts.” Watching the Brit’s eyes narrow in confusion, he elaborated. “I know just about everyone in this city from the big wigs to the lowest of… well, you know. Anyway, the manager saw me come in and asked if I could teach his staff how to make a proper Manhattan among other drinks,” he joked. “Take it the Diet Coke is for Buffy?”

“Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, it is.” His mind was still trying to wrap itself around seeing the bloke here and the fact he was actually a guest. “Sooooo, who’s your date?” Curiosity got the better of him when the short man winked conspiratorially. “If I may ask.”

“Someone you know, but…” He sighed, the mirth leaving his eyes. “Much as I like her, I can tell that what she’s searching for, she ain’t gonna find it in me.”

“Well, color me confused.” The sparkle returned in Willy’s face along with a chuckle.

“So you’re speaking in Buffy language these days?” Sobering from his laughter, he held up a hand. “Never mind, bad joke.” Yup, the peroxide kid had a severe case of the Buff-ies. “You’ll find out soon enough, kid. Now take these and get back to her. I’ll see ya soon.” He walked away, leaving the boy standing there with a dumbfounded look.

With no other choice but to take his drinks and leave, Spike turned to slowly make his way back towards his table. He noticed a sound system was set up on the far side of the banquet hall and a space cleared for about fifty couples to dance at the same time with plenty of elbow room left over. The thought of dancing with his girl instantly put a bounce in his step. His plan, his goal to sweep her off her feet - both metaphorically and literally – was, after all, his main priority for this evening. By the end of the night, she would be his… and of her own volition, he’d make bloody well sure of that.

Wading through a tightly circled group of men dressed like penguins and talking rather loudly, he literally growled when emerging on the other side, turning a few heads his way. He didn’t notice their curious stares and even if he did, he wouldn’t have cared. His eyes were zeroed in on his girl being embraced by Angel in a hug that was lasting too long for his liking as he quickened his pace.

They broke apart right before he reached them, but Angel didn’t let go of her hands and all he could do was stand there, mute and waiting to be noticed as he listened to Captain Forehead’s sickening, counterfeit sympathy speech.

“I can’t tell you how very, very sorry I am, Buffy. If I’d known any earlier, I would have sent flowers for the ceremony or-or a card, seen to anything you might have needed yourself. If there’s anything at all I can still do don’t hesitate t-”

“It’s fine… really.” She withdrew her hands from his, turning to face Spike with watery eyes and a half smile before whispering, “Everything’s fine now.”

The hostility bunching every muscle fiber in Spike’s being relaxed when she looked at him. What he heard was something entirely different than what she’d said, a separate message unspoken yet loud and clear. His only concern now was for the unshed tears that pooled beneath her long lashes.

That was before a twinge of aggravation seized him that Angelus was the cause of his girl’s misty green depths with his very poorly timed apologies. The pillock had no shame, no conscience; his intention nothing more than to get ‘near’ her by preying on her emotions, her recent loss. Spike never felt such disgust towards another person in his life.

“I see,” Angel replied, and indeed he did. He’d read the exchange of their glances… accurately, and realized - with a degree of amusement - what he was up against would be a unique challenge to his skills.

“Well, then. Save me a dance?” Buffy’s small nod was the only answer he received… that and a dangerous glare from William. He would have passed it off if it hadn’t held a hint of genuine warning on a level he’d never seen from the boy. Yes, seemed he’d have to dig further into his arsenal if he was going to win this bet, especially since the stakes had risen. “See you around, Willy.”

As soon as Angelus walked away, Spike set their drinks down and immediately put his arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “Hey,” he spoke softly. “We can leave if you want, pet.” She shook her head, sniffing loudly to suck up her tears. “Tactless, insensitive prick,” he muttered under his breath as he watched the retreating form of said prick get lost in the crowd.

“It’s okay, I’m sure he meant well. I’ll stay.”

Angelus never meant anything that didn’t benefit him somehow in the end, but he bit his tongue for her sake. “Alright, luv. But if you change your mind, jus’ say the word and we’re outta here.”

“Thanks.” Collecting herself, she braved a kiss to his cheek, uncaring of whoever might happen to see her.

Not long after they sat down, everyone around them began taking their seats as well. Spike surmised it was because dinner would soon be served, and checking his watch confirmed it. As expected, Cordelia joined them with her bright smile and a cheerful ‘hello’. But neither he nor Buffy could have possibly prepared themselves for who took up the chair situated between himself and Cordy… none other than Willy himself, smiling away as if there wasn’t an elephant present in the room.

“Cordy?” Buffy tried to cover up her shock by going for small talk. “That’s not the dress you bought for tonight when we went shopping,” she accused with humor after noticing.

“I know. That gown is so two weeks ago, though.”

She chuckled knowingly. “Leave it to you to be all with the latest.”

And as the two friends gossiped, Willy leaned towards Spike’s ear. “Know what you’re thinking, Sport, and you’re not wrong. But like I said, she ain’t gonna find it in me.”

“Not sure what to… to say to that, mate. Gotta admit though, never would have-”

“Guessed I came here with her?” Raising an eyebrow after interrupting, he boasted. “Trust me. Ole Willy knows everyone better than they know themselves. Watch and learn, kid, I’ll set her on the right path before tonight’s over.”

“If you say so,” he remarked casually.

“Speaking of paths, destiny or fate if you prefer…”

The two men continued their conversation until the appetizer portion of the five course meal was brought out, silencing any further discussion.

Once dessert was finished, servers hurriedly removed all the tableware while Liam O’Connor walked over to the sound system and grabbed a microphone to begin his speech.

He kept it brief, thanking his employees for all their hard work and dedication but all Buffy heard was blah, blah, blah until he told everyone to dance and make merry. She made with the ‘golf clap’ during the applause; sighing when the music started and people began getting up to converse with other guests.

“I suppose it’s time to mingle, huh?” she asked, sounding none too thrilled.

“Shouldn’t take long, pet. There are a few people I have to make nice with then maybe after a couple `f dances we can leave.”

“Ughh, do we have to dance?” she whined, thinking they could leave even sooner if they cut that part out. Spike’s response was to cock his head to the side and pout deeply, topping off the look with sad puppy dog eyes that made her insides melt.

“You sayin’ you don’ wanna dance with me?”

“Yes, I-I mean no, er... Well-” She laid her hand over his where it rested on his thigh and smiled. “-as long as it’s with you, I’d… I’d love to.” With him looking at her the way he was, she couldn’t refuse him even if she’d wanted to, which she so didn’t.

From beneath the table, he took her hand in his, lightly stroking the top with his thumb as he raised it towards his lips. “It’d be my pleasure,” he said in a silken tone, eyes boring into hers as he lowered his head.

His warm breath floated across her flesh in a whispery caress, and she shuddered as his mouth gently brushed her knuckles… back and forth… slowly. The azure gaze fixed on hers darkened to pure sapphire the moment he deposited a lingering kiss, his sinful bottom lip leaving a small trace of moisture on her skin. But he didn’t stop there, oh no. He trailed his way down her middle finger, the tip of his tongue peeking out to graze the full length of it then back up again, creating tingles of fire that shot straight to her womb which tightened into an aching ball of need.

It was a bold move on his part, yes, but she stirred such… unfathomable things from deep within his soul, moved him in ways he never imagined, didn’t know were possible, defied logic, explanation and definition. She consumed him, and he was helplessly, hopelessly lost. Blind to those around him, he poured all his emotions, desire and love for her through the innocent yet intimate gesture, composed as a prelude to the infinite possibilities of their future and the bliss it would assuredly bring.

“Oh, for the love of Gucci, get a room,” Cordelia huffed, rolling her eyes. Then curving her lips in a sarcastic grin, she pointed out, “Oh wait, that’s right, you don’t have to.”

“Cordy!” Buffy squeaked, snatching her hand away from Spike to sit ramrod straight.

“Puleez. The UST is so heavy between you two it’s going to suck all the air from the room if you don’t take it home.”

Placing her elbows on the table, Buffy buried her face in her hands while Spike simply sat back and chuckled. “OH, my-God, Cordy. Have you no couth?”

“I think it, I say it. That’s my way,” she replied, her attitude blasé.

However comical Willy found the situation, he felt bad for Buffy and decided to try and distract Cordelia from making the atmosphere any more awkward for the blonde. “So whaddya say we dance, Beautiful?”

“You can dance?” she asked enthusiastically.

“With the best of them, Toots.”

“Oooo, let’s go then. I just love Michael Bubble,” she gushed when hearing the song ‘Sway’ begin to play.

Buffy peeked between her fingers to ask Spike, “Is she gone yet?”

“Yeah, pet, she’s gone.” He stifled the desire to laugh, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate it. “Let’s get our socializin’ started, yeah? Try and wrap it up in half an hour so we can hit the dance floor?”

“Sounds good.” Anything to take her mind off her humiliation, and why-oh-why couldn’t Spike have the decency to look at least a little embarrassed? Probably because Cordy was right, she answered herself. The difference between them? Spike handled hearing the truth like it was nothing more than listening to the evening weather report while she reacted as if she’d accidentally turned the channel to late night ‘skinemax’, scrambling with the remote in an effort to turn it off.

~~~*~~~

It was taking a lot more than thirty minutes as Buffy and Spike were still walking around to chat with various employees and their spouses. But they stuck side by side as agreed even if others engaged them in separate conversations now and then.

When Spike turned his back in order to speak with someone, though, she felt the sudden need for some space. The perma-smile she’d worn for over an hour now was seriously making the muscles in her jaw ache. So she slinked away to a spot devoid of people near the windows so she could relax.

Tuning out the chatter that filled the room, she stood there gazing at the night sky while listening to music from the likes of Wynton Marsalis, Harry Connick Jr. and Norah Jones, so lost in her own private thoughts that when a pair of arms encircled her waist, she let out a startled ‘eeep’ of surprise.

“Easy, kitten, `s jus’ me,” Spike reassured, smiling when she relaxed against him. “Was wonderin’ where you’d ran off to.”

“Sorry about that. I just… needed a breather.”

Turning their bodies around to face the crowded ballroom, he sighed heavily. “No worries, luv, I jus’ have a few more blokes I need…”

But she didn’t hear the rest of his sentence, her attention immediately zoning in on a man that was currently coming towards them.

“..can go home. Buffy?” She grabbed his hand that still rested on her hip; crushing it in a death grip at the same time he could feel her entire body go rigid against him. “Buffy? Baby, wha’s wrong?”

Panicked, she rushed through her explanation in a hushed tone. “O’ Connor is coming this way. He was beyond drunk during the last company function I attended and made a blatant sexual pass at me. The way he looked at me after I refused him really gave me the creeps. He really scares me. Spike, please don’t leave me alone with him, please?” she begged.

Hearing her say that came as no surprise and he couldn’t help mumbling, “Runs in the family.”

“What was that?”

“Tha’s why he’s divorced, pet,” he replied rather than repeat what he’d really said. “Man can’ keep it in his pants.” Buffy shivered slightly, so he tightened his hold to her in a reassuring gesture. “If we give him the impression we’re involved, he won’ try anythin’, I promise you.” Which was true. Liam treated him like a son, even more so than his own son, and therefore wouldn’t tread on what he believed to be Spike’s territory.

“You can’t be serious!” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Won’t he disapprove of-of… an office relationship?”

Spike shook his head. “We’ve known each other for years, pet. I’ll tell you the… the whole story. Soon.” He felt relieved knowing he finally could. If he’d tried to tell her two weeks ago, she wouldn’t have believed a word of it. “For now, jus’ follow my lead and you’ll be fine.” But her expression suggested she wasn’t convinced. “Hey,” he whispered, lifting her chin with his fingers to look her in the eyes. “Trust me, Buffy. I would never let anythin’ happen to you.”

“Okay then.”

After she agreed, he kissed her cheek and smiled. “`S show time, pet.”

“What?”

Hearing Liam’s voice sliced through her confusion. She faced forward, still clutching Spike’s hand and plastered a happy grin on her face when he leaned his head against hers. Happy couple look. I can do that. She could definitely do that.




"So! Can I assume this is my sales department’s wonder team?” Spike nodded, confirming it with a ‘yes, Sir’. “Wonderful, wonderful,” he exclaimed before his eyes wandered over Buffy’s form with a roguish glint. “Except… I don't believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the better half." The older man winked at her. "I would definitely remember a lovely lady such as yourself."

The man seriously needs to lay off the sauce, though she was glad he didn’t remember her, and ewww! When he took her free hand to kiss it, she wanted to gag… when he decided not to let it go, she swore she tasted bile rising up her throat. He needed to attend one of those meetings, if they even had a group out there for his type, sexaholics anonymous maybe? Yup, she could see it now, ‘hi, my name is Liam and I’m an over-aged phallocratic pig’.

“Liam,” Spike cut in to get his attention. “Good to see you again. This is my assistant, Miss Elizabeth Summers. Although…” he paused to give her waist a noticeable squeeze and a sidelong suggestive look no man could mistake the meaning of. “With her many… talents, I consider her my… partner. Isn’ that right, kitten?”

Geez, can he lay it on any thicker? But at least Liam let go of her hand. “Oh, yes. Mr. Giles and I have learned many, many things from each other,” she cooed salaciously. She thanked God Spike was right when he said this would work, plus it didn’t hurt she enjoyed the feel of his strong, protective arms around her.

“That’s… great, very good, yes.”

But just as quickly as Buffy relaxed when she saw understanding dawn in the Irishman’s eyes, he had to go and ask Spike for permission to dance with her.

Before he could answer, however, the Great Poof himself suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

“Sorry, Pops, but the lady promised me a dance earlier tonight. Isn’t that right, William?” Holding his hand out, he waited for Buffy to take it.

“Don’ rightly remember, mate,” he all but gritted through his teeth, causing Liam to glance back and forth between the two men, a disappointed look on his face.

Sensing the trouble that was brewing, Buffy hastened to diffuse it by placing her hand in Angel’s. “Shall we, Mr. O’Connor?” She knew Spike hated him with a passion, but he had nothing to fear. Her interests were invested in him… and him alone.

“Of course, Miss Summers.” Angel held her hand up and placed the other on her lower back to escort her.

Throwing Spike an apologetic look, she told him, “You’re next, Mr. Giles,” then added to herself, I’m just saving the best for last.

As they walked away, Spike was seething with frustration that he had to refrain from saying what he wanted because of where they were.

“When will you two learn to get along?” Liam asked, shaking his head back and forth, already knowing the answer.

~~~*~~~

Seconds after they began dancing, Buffy could tell something was troubling Angel. He had a spaced out, expressionless look about him. “Are you alright?”

“Huh?”

Maybe it was the way Spike had spoken to him just moments ago that bothered him. After all, she knew Angel to be the sweet, sensitive type. “If this is about William, I wouldn’t let it get to you. He’s harmless.”

“Actually… that’s where you’re wrong.”

“Excuse me?” What on earth was he talking about?

“As a friend, your friend, I’m concerned about you,” he sighed heavily, furrowing his brow so his ‘worry’ seemed authentic. And judging from the puzzlement written on her face, she bought it. I should have been an actor, he mused.

“What do you mean… concerned?”

“It’s true he doesn’t like me, but it’s because he knows that I know how he operates when it comes to girls… specifically you. And he feels threatened by that.” Huh. She seemed unfazed by this… not what he expected.

“Really? Do tell,” she encouraged him in a neutral voice; though she doubted he’d say anything she wasn’t aware of.

“You two may live together, but you haven’t known him as long as I have. He’s a real playboy, Buffy.”

Yup, check one, nothing new there, though she made sure to maintain her impartial composure, just to see how he’d respond when she told him, “Oh, I already know he was a womanizer.”

“Was?” he asked in mock disbelief, pausing when she didn't appear the least bit persuaded.

“Buffy, I don’t think you understand how relentless he can be when pursuing someone,” he pressed. But she still looked unconvinced even with this information.

“I know Spike takes a head on approach, trust me. The first time we met, he was very upfront about his intentions… and quite persistent,” she countered with a hint of humor as she remembered that night at Willy’s.

“And did it work?” Seeing her shake her head in the negative, he continued. “Spike has… many methods for going after what he wants, or who he wants, I should say.” Time for history lesson… with just an itty-bitty twist. “Having witnessed it many times before in the past, I can tell you with confidence what technique he’ll use on you next. That is… if he hasn’t already.” She looked totally confused, which was the perfect breeding ground for him to plant the seeds of doubt.

This brought Buffy up short, made her wonder just what Angel had seen. “So what technique has he used with me then?” She was curious about his ‘advanced knowledge’ of Spike, but chose not to divulge anything about their current relationship.

“He’s probably molded himself to you, learned what makes you tick, said whatever he thinks you most want to hear, done things for you or bought gifts, taken his time in slowly getting close to you, earning your trust. And once he knows he has it… he’ll pounce. He’s not what he appears to be, Buffy, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. That’s why I’m telling you this.” Okay, so he pretty much just described himself versus Spike, but if it worked…

Buffy froze inside as she digested this news. Angel had described Spike’s actions almost to a ‘T’.

He wanted to smirk with self satisfaction, take a bow when he saw the uncertainty that clouded her eyes. And the Oscar goes to...

“`Scuse, me, mate.” Spike clasped Angelus’ shoulder in a firm grip. “Sure you don’ mind if I cut in. Do you?” He formulated the question like an announcement with a dash of threat thrown in by squeezing the pillock with his hand. And when he stepped away from Buffy to politely say ‘she’s all yours’, he couldn’t resist leaning in to whisper, “Best not forget it either.” He didn’t care what Angelus thought, whether he believed Buffy was still some cheap bet. All he cared about was getting him as far away from her as possible, knowing how manipulative he could be.

Grateful to see him, Buffy beamed when Spike pulled her into his arms dramatically in a proper dance pose and tilted his head to one side, giving her a winning smile.

“Miss me, luv?”

“Maybe,” she kidded him. But upon seeing that irresistible pout, she confessed, “Okay, okay, I did. Very much.”

“Tha’s my girl,” he winked while swaying her to the beat of the music.

Buffy bit her lower lip as she ducked her head under his blue gaze, a telling blush creeping into her cheeks after hearing him call her that. “Th-thanks for saving me from the O’Connor clan by the way.”

“You’re most welco… wait, clan you say? Meanin’ both `f them?”

“Yeah. Liam for obvious reasons and Angel because… well he said some things about you that frankly I just-”

“Whoa, pet. Stop right there,” he said sternly and stilled their bodies, leaning away from her at the waist slightly. “I need you to believe me when I say Angelus is not to be trusted.” When she opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off with an uncompromising gleam in his eyes and a severe tone. “I mean it, Buffy. You know first hand how Liam is and `m not exageratin’ when I say like father, like son.” Seeing her wary and on edge from his vehemence, he pleaded softly for her to understand. “Please jus’… trust me on this, sweetheart.”

“I-I do,” she stuttered, wondering who she was trying to convince more… him or herself. Angel had hit on some truths, and she wasn’t sure if it was just coincidence, dumb luck on his part or, if he what he’d told her was what he’d truly seen before. She wanted to believe Spike, she really did, but the biggest question she had still weighed heavy on her mind… could she entrust him with her heart?

From last chapter………

“Please jus’… trust me on this, sweetheart.”

“I-I do,” she stuttered, wondering who she was trying to convince more… him or herself. Angel had hit on some truths, and she wasn’t sure if it was just coincidence, dumb luck on his part or, if what he’d told her was what he’d truly seen before. She wanted to believe Spike, she really did, but the biggest question she had still weighed heavy on her mind… could she entrust him with her heart?

~~~*~~~

“Thank you,” he exhaled with relief. Taking her hand, he chastely kissed the inside of her wrist then stretched his arm out to begin dancing with her again.

“Did you talk with everyone you needed to?” she asked, feeling the need to change the subject.

Nodding, he read her question as an indication she was ready to go shortly as per their plan. He, on the other hand, still had his mind set on telling her how he felt before leaving the ball. And as they moved to the smooth acoustics of ‘Come Away with Me’, he needed to know just how anxious she was to get home. “So… we agreed on two dances?”

“Two dances?”

“Yeah, remember? Couple `f dances then we escape?”

“Oh… right. Yes, two dances.” Her feelings for him hadn’t changed, but she needed some time to assimilate her conflicting thoughts. Though she’d never had a reason to distrust Angel, Spike had given her every reason to trust him more. They really needed to talk about this… and soon.

At the same time, they both noticed Willy and Cordelia dancing a few feet away, engaged in what appeared to be some sort of debate.

“… and lower my standards?” the brunette asked incredulously before defending herself. “They’re only as high as Ivana Trump’s… you know, in the event of a divorce.”

“That’s not… what I mean,” Willy replied.

As the couple bantered back and forth, the two blondes had to muffle their snickers of amusement. That was… until a few seconds later when a new song began to play, Willy stepped aside to allow Owen to take over dancing with Cordelia.

Twin expressions of shock marred their faces, and not just because of the wink they received from Willy as he brushed past them. It looked as if Cordy was not only okay with this, but… was that a smile? Was she actually enjoying herself? Either that or she’s putting on one hell of a façade, Buffy thought.

“Ahem… well tha’s, uhmm… jus’…” Spike trailed off, in search of the proper term for this… anomaly.

“Unnatural,” Buffy supplied.

“Odd would be my word of choice, but yeah, unnatural will do.” After all, they both knew Cordy to be attracted to men of wealth and prestige, not a company driver whose salary – most likely – was barely enough to sustain himself.

“This has to be temporary insanity on her part.” Or way too much champagne. “Either that or Owen has a story, you know, he might be hiding something.”

“Like what, luv?”

“Maybe he’s one of those guys who secretly has, a-a trust fund but chooses to work instead?”

“Perhaps,” he offered, still staring at the other couple. “`S not unheard `f. At any rate... she seems happy, so I say good for her.”

“Speaking of, of stories and…” She purposefully refrained from finishing that sentence when she saw the questions beginning to swim in his eyes over what she might say. Giving him a shaky smile, she hoped he’d understand it wasn’t important… at least for the moment. “Never mind.” There’d be time to talk later when they were alone, at home. Talk about what Angel told her and whatever Spike wanted to tell her about the O’Connors and his relationship with them. After everything was laid out on the table, they could figure it out together then decide once and for all where ‘they’ stood. Besides, she didn’t want to ruin what was left of their evening together so she wound her arms loosely around his neck, vying for his attention to return to her.

And boy did she get it.

When I give my heart
It will be completely
Or Ill never give my heart

The chime of conversation and cackled, drunken laughter around them dulled when he focused his eyes on hers. And as the hypnotic voice of Nat King Cole floated through the air, expressing what was on her mind earlier, he gave her such a deep, meaningful look, she swore for a second that he could read her mind.

Wrapping his arms snuggly about her waist, he pulled her flush to his body, resting his cheekbone lightly against her temple as she sunk into his embrace.

And the moment I can feel that, you feel that way too
Is when I fall in love with you

He began to hum the interlude as she allowed him to lead her in the gentle sway of their dance. Just the way she clung to him, the warmth of her breath tickling the shell of his ear, the rise and fall of her chest against his… Yes, it seemed the time was right.

Is when I fall in love with you

She felt his hand slowly slide up her back, the pads of his fingertips ghost along the inner curve of her neck before gently cupping her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered shut when he ceased humming, his lips feathering her earlobe with every word, every syllable he whispered.

“I’m in love with you… Elizabeth. And you… you don' have to say it back. Don' expect you to. Jus' thought you should know.” Shakily, he pulled back to look at her. He expected the astonishment that was written all over her face so it didn’t bother him, what did was the uncertainty and apprehension that filled her eyes… not the reflection of his own sentiments as he had hoped for.

The cadence of her heartbeat increased as she watched the breadth of his emotions surface in his crystal blue gaze. She never expected this, never even saw it coming and was so shocked by his admission, she wasn’t sure how to react. Yes, she wanted him; this was what she’d wanted… for quite some time, but the surprise of being faced with it here, in this way, and all before they had a chance to talk further? If she admitted she felt the same way now, she’d be vulnerable, leave herself open to the possibility of being hurt which was, above all, her greatest fear.

Spike denied what he saw swirling within her emerald stare in favor of trying to convince her she had nothing to be afraid of. Being more a man of action than words, he would erase the doubt from her eyes, her mind… her heart. Leaning in, he began tracing her lips gently with the tip of his tongue, using all the tenderness he possessed to persuade her, show her the depth of what he felt. When she parted her lips he didn’t hesitate to cover her mouth with his, willing her to see how perfect they were for each other as he deepened the kiss.

And as soon as she felt the velvet texture of his lips moving over hers, his tongue coaxing her emotions to come forward, her eyes slid shut and she was swept away… gave in to her longing, lost herself in the passionate demonstration of his conviction. The way he kissed her was so, so… intense, so electric that she clutched his shoulders tightly and angled her head, craving more, inviting him to take more.

Acting on instinct when she submitted, he hauled her closer, the hand at her waist lowering to grip her hip. Every time they had to break for air, he’d babble incomplete sentences, random thoughts before diving back in to taste the sweet reciprocation of her hungry kisses.

“Waited so bloody long for this,” he panted heavily then attacked her mouth with more fervor. “Been so patient.” His fingers began squeezing her hip in a firm, steady rhythm. “Wa-wanted you… so long.” The euphoria of the moment had him on a mental high, his body on autopilot. He was truly unaware he’d started rubbing his erection against her stomach while pulling her into it, didn’t think about what he was saying or the repercussion his words might have. There was only her, only him, only them in the room, lost in a haze of desire, of love. Absorbed with the need to touch her very soul, he lost all semblance of control. “Can' wait to make you mine… all `f you.”

Hearing what he’d said, feeling his arousal pressed to her belly instantly tripled her heart rate, the blood in her veins now racing so fast she became dizzy, her legs buckling beneath her. There was too much air in the room, then suddenly not enough and she couldn’t breathe, almost suffocating from her fear as it closed in on her, her mind screaming oh-God when it seemed he was ‘pouncing’… just as Angelus said he would.

In a panic, she whimpered then pushed Spike away, gasping for breath, feeling winded and dazed, knees wobbling in an effort to hold herself up. Her jumbled emotions clogged her mind so badly her equilibrium was compromised, her vision blurry, pupils dilated. She thought for sure she would faint any second, but as her focus came back and she saw the bewilderment on his face as his hand reached out for her, she jerked away from him.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t, I...” Turning around, she fled for the bathroom, the overwhelming need to be alone driving her forward.

Ignoring the curious stares he received from those around him, Spike shook his head in disbelief. They’d just shared the most amazing kiss. So why was she running off like the Hounds of Hell were chasing after her?

He was so sure he got through to her, positive she felt the same way, her response, her kiss told him as much. So what the bloody hell just happened? Watching her run to the loo, he clenched his hands so hard they started trembling. He squared his shoulders back, teeth grinding as his jaw settled, lips forming a thin line as his eyes narrowed.

He didn’t understand what spooked her, but he was damn sure going to find out. Enough was enough, and he’d certainly had enough… way past his fucking limit. Every day and night they played at being a couple, she was always returning his affections, had even told him he’d said something right when she basically asked if he wanted to be with her. And now she says she can’t do this?!?! Was she playing some kind of game with him, toying with his heart by letting him have a taste of her and then snatching it away?

Buffy was hunched over a sink, elbows planted on the counter, her hands cradling her head when the door swung open so fast, it broke through the silence with a loud metal bang as it hit the far wall. She straightened swiftly with a gasp, couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw an angry looking Spike coming towards her, causing her to shrink from him until her back met with a stall and there was nowhere else to go.

“Wanna tell me what that was all `bout out there? Why you left me high and dry?” She didn’t breathe a word, just stared at him like frightened prey. “Think I deserve an explanation, don’ you? Or should I take a stab at it?” Her mouth opened, but all that came out were tiny squeaks, like her voice had been stolen.

“Why, Buffy?” he asked, frustration knitting his brow. “Why the change `f tune, why… all `f sudden can’ you be with me?” Taking a step closer towards her he tried to temper his ire in lieu of getting the answers he wanted, as he thought of the arguments he knew he could throw at her to prove her contradictory behavior. “You know I’ve changed, that I’ve done everythin’ within my bloody power to prove it to you, that… that I love you. Do I mean so little to you now? Were you stringin’ me along on some twisted ride jus’ for kicks? To get back at me for how I treated you in the past?”

“NO! N-no, I’d never do that.” How could he even think she’d do something like that to him?

He tilted his head back and smirked. “See you found your voice. And now that you have, care to fill a bloke in?”

“This isn’t the time or-or-” her eyes darted left and right, even though she knew nobody else was in here with them. “-the place.”

He let out a scornful chuckle to match his leer then pinned her with hard, cold eyes. “And yet again… Miss Buffy Summers runs away, `fraid `f the truth, virtue flutterin’ as if I’m the bad guy.”

“Spike, that’s not it, really.” Why couldn’t he just understand that she didn’t want to talk about this here?

“Isn’ it?” He raised an accusatory eyebrow. “Bloody hell, woman! `M so-” throwing his hands in the air he raised his voice. “-so bloody well tired.” Running his hands through his hair, he linked his fingers behind his head and sighed through his nose while looking at the floor.

“Why even try to hide from yourself...” His hands dropped by sides as he faced her. “From me? Do you even know how deep you are inside me? I wake up every bloody mornin’ and you’re there, under my skin, in my thoughts, embedded in my heart. All the nights we spent together, each smile, every small kiss... I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, ever.” Pointing a stiff finger at her chest, he refused to acknowledge the tears that were forming in her eyes. “Run, hide, lie to me if you want, Buffy, but we both know you want me as much as I want you… and there’s no denyin’ it.”

A single tear ran down her cheek when she blinked, and there, in the glassy pools of her eyes he saw that she understood and wasn’t about to disagree with him. She took the small steps that separated them until he was staring down at her upturned face. Her bottom lip twitched, drawing his attention to it, and he wished for all the world he didn’t long to kiss it. She nodded in a show of surrender and tilted her head a fraction, lips parting as if she wanted him to do just that, as if all it would take was a kiss to seal the deal, to be with him… until she spoke.

“I want you.” Her breath was ragged and shaky. “So much it… I do. Which is exactly why I can’t do this right now.” If he would just wait until they got home, have a calm discussion that would, God willing, dispel her worries so they could be together. “Later… we’ll talk later, I promise.” She studied his face for a moment. He looked almost... hurt, filling her heart with a pang of regret for making him wait any longer. But she couldn’t do this, not right now, not here. Raising her hand to his cheekbone, she touched it lightly with her fingertips then withdrew her hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He truly frightened her, of what he made her feel, and she simply couldn’t trust him to catch her when she fell until she was sure of the truth.

She stepped to the side and went around him to walk out the door, leaving him alone. He felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of his body. With just a few words, she’d cut him on a level deeper than he knew existed, made him feel… inadequate. Was he so horrible that even when she finally admitted to wanting him, she couldn’t give herself to him because of who he used to be? And to hear her say ‘… we’ll talk later, I promise’ with something akin to pity for him in her voice… standing right in front of him with nothing to prevent her from treating him with some dignity… to just leave like she did. Yes, he’d had enough, heard more than enough and was through with it… finished.

Angry and wounded, he stormed out of the bathroom to see her standing near the foyer, talking with Cordelia. Retrieving his coat as quickly as possible, he refused to stay here another minute.

Buffy looked up in time to see Spike coming her way, wearing his overcoat. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” he replied gruffly, never once sparing her a glance as he walked straight past her and out the ballroom door. He really wanted to punch something, having so much pent up frustration and rage, but knew it wouldn’t be in the best interest of his knuckles since there was nothing but brick buildings outside. So he decided to walk it off for a bit, hail a cab after he felt sufficiently cooled down.

Her heart constricted as she watched him leave. She felt terrible for having caused him any grief. And for a second, she considered going after him, had even taken a step forward until Cordelia grabbed her arm, shaking her head no. She led her back to their table since most of the guests were either dancing or standing in groups, chatting while they drank.

“I saw you two kissing like porn stars out on that dance floor before you bolted, and now he’s left in a huff? What happened, Buffy? And don’t you dare leave out any of the details, I want them all.” She folded her arms over her chest and reclined in her chair. “So spill.”

After nearly thirty minutes, Buffy’s throat felt raw and her eyes were watering all over again, sniffling to fight from crying. Cordy handed her a napkin then leaned an elbow on the table to perch her chin in her palm, eyeing her like she wearing something from the eighties.

“You wanted to know everything, so… why are you looking at me like that?”

“Buffy,” she began evenly. “Have you like, ever known me to swear?”

“Huh? What are you ta-”

“Just answer the question first.”

“Uhmm, no? Not that I can recall anyway. Why?”

“In five words or less… forgive me when I say, you just seriously fucked up.”

“Wh-what did you say?” Totally not what she expected to hear.

Cordelia flipped her hair over her shoulder and replied with an irritated edge to her voice. “You’re not deaf and I’m so not going to repeat myself.”

“But, h-how did I… fuck up?” She really wanted to understand her logic because damnit, much as she hated to admit it, her friend was usually right.

“Honestly? I don’t know what possessed you to believe Angel over Spike.”

“I already explained it,” Buffy moaned. “Plus I said I’m going to discuss it with Spike later… if he’s willing to even talk to me now,” she added sadly to herself.

“Remember when I told you Angel may not be what he seems? Well, from the view of things… I’d say I was right.” At Buffy’s confused look, Cordelia pointed over the blonde’s shoulder.

She turned her head in time to see Angel dancing with some redhead, his hand practically massaging her bottom while the fingers of his other hand dipped just below the neckline of her dress… both pairs of eyes oozing with that ‘fuck-me’ look.

“Oh. OH! OHHH!!! I can’t believe he’s… a-and that she’s, she’s… but that would mean…”

“Mm-hmm,” the brunette drawled knowingly. “At least now I know why I got such a bad vibe from him. I should have noticed it earlier,” she said as she stared at the couple, drumming the tabletop with her fingernails. “I mean, his frontal lobe is so huge you can see it before he even enters a room.”

“Huh? Frontal what?”

Cordy placed a finger just below her hairline and tapped it while saying, “Frontal lobe, or lobes if you will, the part of the brain that’s involved with memory, language, impulse control as well as social and sexual behavior, to name just a few. Now I may not be a scientist, but I’m thinking Mr. Big-Frontal-Lobe-O’Connor probably has a huge appetite for sex… and he’s smart enough to keep it well fed.”

It always amazed her how Cordy could spit out random facts at will while she barely remembered a single thing she’d learned in biology, or was it physiology? Something clicked in her brain just then and she chuckled softly to herself when remembering Spike had called him Captain Forehead once or twice.

“Oh-my-God!” Another thing Spike mentioned right before they danced suddenly came back to her, ‘…like father, like son.’ “Cordy, I really fucked up.”

“Ya think? Hate to say I told you so but… then again, I am Cordelia Chase,” she chirped. “And I’m always right.”

“Is it too late? To fix this?” But her friend just shrugged.

“Do you love him?” Buffy nodded. “Then it’s up to you. Although I think you’re going to be doing an awful lot of apologizing and ughh, dare I say, groveling?”

Buffy stood up fast, looking around frantically in search of her purse while talking a mile a minute. “I need to go home. I need to get my coat. Oh-God, I-” The sound of her cell phone unexpectedly ringing cut her ranting short. The tune coming from it the very one she’d set for whenever it was Spike calling her, the lyrics playing out until she found then fumbled inside her purse for the cell.

Blue eyed devil
Born to be a God among Salesmen
Working the skinny tie…

She felt so bad after their exchange of words in the bathroom, especially now that she knew the truth. And hearing that ringtone made her so happy he was calling that she didn’t care if she had to beg on her knees for forgiveness.

“Spike,” she answered excitedly. But her smile faded before it could fully bloom. “Yes, this is she.” …pause… “What?!?! Where, I-I mean how, no, wait… what happened?” ...pause… The palm of her free hand flew to her forehead as she sat down hard, trying to get her breathing under control. She ignored Cordelia’s repeated attempts to get her to say what was going on so she could listen to what the woman on the other end was telling her. “Which hospital?” …pause… “Got it. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Hospital! Is Spike alright?”

“No,” Buffy answered grimly then stood again, even more in a hurry to leave than before. “He got mugged, and the thief had a knife on him. He’ll be released when they’re through treating him, but since they administered him a narcotic for the pain, they can’t let him leave unaccompanied.”

“Oh-Buffy, I’m so sorry. Can I, can I do anything? To help?” This was bad… bad timing, bad karma, bad juju, all kinds of bad-badness there was to be had out there.

“Not unless you can get me to the hospital in less time than a taxi on a Saturday evening in the city that never sleeps,” she grumbled.

“Now that… I can do.”

Stopping dead in her tracks, she stared at her friend skeptically. “You can?”

“Well, not me, but I know someone who can. Wait here.”

Buffy watched as Cordy disappeared into a crowd of people, remerging only seconds later with Owen in tow.

“You ready to leave?” he asked upon reaching her.

“Er, yeah, but… what about the ball?” She’d feel guilty dragging him away from having a good time just to take her to the hospital when she could easily call a cab.

“This sounds more important than a party, plus I can get back here within twenty minutes. I know every shortcut there is in the Big Apple. It’s no problem, really. Come on.” He gestured for her to walk in front of him but she just stood there.

“Would you go already?” Cordelia shooed her. “Go! And don’t forget to call me later, let me know how he’s doing.”

She snapped out of it. “Right. Okay.” Nodding at Owen, she was ready. “Let’s go.”

Praise the Lord for whoever invented the ‘oh-shit’ handle in the car as Owen drove like a man on crack, taking turns so fast it made her head spin. But even as everything passed by in a blur of colors during their fast and furious ride, she still had the presence of mind to wonder how on earth Spike got mugged… or rather where. It couldn’t have been right outside the Mandarin Oriental. Not if he’d gone straight home. And it couldn’t have been in front of their complex either. It didn’t make any sense to her.

“And here we are,” Owen announced.

“Eeep,” she squealed in unison with the tires, lurching forward as the car screeched to a halt near the emergency room entrance. Glad she was still in one piece and that her dinner hadn’t come up, she quickly thanked him before getting out. As he drove off, she noticed for the first time it was a company car he’d used which was, well, peculiar, not to mention if anyone found out he could get in trouble. Personally, she could care less since he got her here in record time and dismissed it, her only real concern being Spike. Sliding her coat off and slinging it over her arm, she took a deep breath and walked inside.

Speaking with front desk attendant, she realized the woman with the militant attitude wasn’t going to tell her a thing about Spike’s condition. Stupid patient confidentiality crap! She glanced at her name tag, noting she was nothing more than a cranky, night shift hospital staffer and not an RN. Crossing her fingers behind her back like a little kid when they lie, she stared her down, demanding her in a deadpanned voice, “I’m his wife and I want to see him now.”

The older woman lowered her head, looking at her from over the black rimmed bifocals she wore low on the bridge of her nose, seemingly unconvinced. “I’ll just call one of the nurses.”

“You do that, Ms. Walsh.” Her tone was haughty and arrogant, the confidence she exuded worthy of a Golden Globe for best actress in this motion picture drama otherwise known as her life. Inside, however, she was afraid she’d be found out.

She didn’t know if Spike mentioned the exact nature of their relationship to the girl that phoned her cell earlier. And at the time of the call, she was so shocked by the news she didn’t pay attention to anything other than the name of the hospital. Should have said I was his sister, which - if she said she was married - would explain why her last name was different. Taking a few steps backwards, she turned and took a seat, preparing herself to be told she’d have to wait.

As the grouch picked up the phone, a young lady with long brown hair that was tied sloppily away from her face came out of the doors that led to the treatment rooms and headed behind the counter. She watched the hag set the phone back down to engage the girl in a hushed conversation, occasionally glancing in her direction.

All Buffy could make out were the words ‘red dress, wife, rude’ and ‘Mr. Giles’. Yeah, it didn’t look like her chances of seeing Spike were going to happen anytime soon. Just as she started rummaging through a stack of magazines on the end table next to her, the brunette approached her with a pleasant smile.

“Hi there. You must be Buffy Summers. We spoke on the phone earlier. I’m Dr. Winifred Burkle, but please call me Fred, doctor titles sound so formal, makes me feel all uncomfortable. Oh, I just adore your dress, it’s so chic.”

Buffy recognized her southern accent immediately but frowned even as she shook hands with her, throwing a sideways glance at Ms. Walsh who followed their exchange with interest.

“Oh, don’t worry about Maggie.” Cupping the side of her mouth, she whispered, “I backed you up and said you were Mrs. Giles.”

“You… you did?”

“Yeah. Totally bought it, too.” She grinned, bobbing her head from side to side. “Come. Follow me.”

After making it past the double doors, Buffy had to ask, “Not that I’m ungrateful, but… why would you lie for me when you didn’t have to?” Fred stopped so she could answer; her beaming smile and girlish giggles belying the intelligence and bedside manner Buffy usually associated with most doctors.

“Mr. Giles said you were the only person he had that might come and take him home.” Then she frowned, fidgeting with her stethoscope when telling her, “He seemed so sad, especially when I told him he couldn’t use his cell phone in here. You know-” her eyes darted everywhere all at once to indicate, “-all the machines and interference stuff? So he handed it over and asked if I’d call you.”

“I see.” That didn’t sit with her well. Not the part where she was the only person he thought might come, as depressing as that did sound, but that maybe he ‘seemed sad’ because she was the last person he wanted around even if he needed her here in order to be released. Proceed with caution, Buffy. It wouldn’t do to upset him any further than she had when he was lying here in one of these rooms physically hurting God knows how much. “H-how’s he doing? Is he… alright?”

Waving her hand in no particular direction, Fred’s bubbly enthusiasm returned.

“He’s fine. A few stitches, some painkillers and he’ll be right as rain after three or four days. Might have a small scar, but he should consider himself lucky compared to what I’ve seen after people get robbed… all the bullet wounds and blood, missing teeth, internal bleeding from being beaten half to death, broken bones and some of the weirdest blunt objects you could imagine sticking out of people’s oh-my!” Seeing the blonde turn piqued, she apologized profusely. “I’m so-so sorry. I have a tendency to ramble and that was probably way too graphic.”

“It’s… I’m okay, really.” The moans and groans echoing through the hall from patients only served to intensify the gory pictures forming in her head while listening to the girl who she was convinced had Starbucks running through her veins.

“You sure? Can I get you some water? Do you need to sit? I can show you to the bathroom if you want?”

“No, no, I’m good, Fred. I’m fine now.” The southern girl looked absolutely pitiful as she cringed while offering her anything she wanted, well, everything except for what she wanted most. “Uhmm, can I see Spike now?”

“Spike?” Tilting her head in confusion, she asked, “You want to see a spike?”

Buffy shook her head. “Mr. Giles. It’s what he likes to be called… Spike, I mean.”

“Such a funny nickname. Wonder how he got it,” she mused to herself then shrugged.

“I’m not so sure even I wanna know that,” Buffy mumbled quietly.

“If you’re ready, I’ll take you to him. Oh, the shot of Dilaudid I gave him earlier has kicked in, so don’t be alarmed when you see him. He’ll be quite lethargic and his behavior may even seem strange.”

~~~*~~~

Entering the room, Fred gave Spike a polite greeting and told him she’d be suturing his wound before making herself busy by procuring the medical supplies she needed.

Buffy’s first instinct was to rush forward and hug every last breath from his body; her second… strangle the shit out of him for scaring her half to death. The only thing that stopped her from doing either was the haunted look in his eyes when he slowly turned his head in her direction.

Taking small, cautious steps towards him, she noted the pale, clammy appearance of his skin and couldn’t help wincing at the sight of the deep gash on his left eyebrow. His jacket, vest and tie hung over the back of a nearby chair, the white shirt he still wore stained with blood.

“Hey there,” she said softly as she dragged the chair closer and sat down. But he didn’t react to her presence, just stared right through her as if she weren’t even there, the blue of his eyes brighter because the narcotic had constricted his pupils to a pinpoint.

Fred came to stand next to Buffy, a nurse behind her wheeling a cart over. “I’m ready to patch him up but you’re welcome to stay, of course.”

“I’d like that, thank you.”

“Good. While I’m doing it, I’ll fill you in on his condition since he’s not fully coherent right now.” Turning to the nurse, she asked for a surgical visor mask. “Uhh, wait! Now where in tarnation did I put my glasses? Glasses, glasses… need my glasses, always misplacing them,” she muttered while patting the many pockets of her white lab coat.

“Uhmm, they’re…” Buffy pointed right at her.

“Ah!” She grabbed them from off the top of her head and giggled. “Little critter is harder to find than a jackelope in Texas.”

She would have laughed if the brunette’s behavior didn’t cause her some concern, but considering how ditzy the ‘good doctor’ seemed, Buffy was beginning to wonder how she ever made it through medical school.

The nurse quickly shaved half of Spike’s eyebrow off then draped a blue surgical cloth over his entire face with a hole that revealed only his wound before assisting Fred in donning a pair of sterile latex gloves.

It wasn’t until after he’d been given a local anesthetic that Fred started chattering away to Buffy while she worked.

“According to his chest X-rays there’s no fluid in his lungs which is good, but he does have minimal bruising to two ribs on the right side just beneath his pectoral muscle. He’ll be sore for a few days, so it’s best he takes it easy, no strenuous activities or sports. I’m going to prescribe him a week’s worth of Percocet, so I suggest he stays home from work during that time. And you’ll have to keep an eye on him for any signs of slurred speech or black spots in his field of vision… in the event he has a concussion.”

Buffy looked at anything except for his eyebrow where the suturing was taking place but continued listening intently to what the doctor was saying. During one of her averted glances, she happened to catch Spike's hand twitch. Thinking he could possibly feel what was being done to him, she placed her hand over his in a gesture of reassurance. At first he didn’t respond, but when she chanced a brief look to see Fred push the needle into his skin again, he gave her a light squeeze. To her surprise, he ever so slowly laced his fingertips loosely through hers, and she dared to hope that everything would be alright between them… until she remembered how half-baked he was from the drugs. He probably doesn’t even know it’s me, and was simply acting on instinct, seeking comfort.

“Because his eye will swell shut overnight-” Fred continued. “-have him take one tablet of Percocet and 200 milligrams of Ibuprofen before going to bed. Make sure he takes the Ibuprofen every four to six hours, too. If the swelling hasn’t decreased by morning, continue using the Ibuprofen along with an icepack and it should go down within a few hours.

“Got it.” Buffy nodded and held Spike’s hand a little tighter when asking, “By the way... do you know what, I mean, did he tell what happened… exactly?”

“According to him, he was jumped from behind and the guy held a knife to his throat, demanding his wallet. When Mr. Giles tried to get away, the assailant sliced his eyebrow then kneed him in the chest as he bent over. After he fell from the blow, the thief found then took his money, left the wallet behind and fled. So as I said before, he was very lucky. It could have gone a lot worse for him had his throat been cut.”

“There! All done.” Fred took her visor and gloves off while the nurse removed the blue cloth from Spike’s face to cover the wound with gauze and surgical tape. “Because of the health insurance he has, he can get his prescription here after you sign the discharge worksheet. I’ll have the nurse’s station call it in to the pharmacy and let them know you’ll pick it up for him since he’s still under the effects of the Dilaudid.”

~~~*~~~

A few minutes later, Buffy had bagged up Spike’s bloody clothes, slipped his suit jacket and winter coat on him then helped him into a wheelchair the nurse provided. She thanked Fred again when the brunette doctor held the door open so she could wheel Spike into the waiting area, and after obtaining his medicine, she quickly called a cab so they could leave.

She tried talking to him a few times during the ride home, but all she received were single word responses and sometimes, none at all. So she gave up, figuring the drug in his system was responsible.

But it wasn’t… not in the capacity she thought anyway.

Spike was all too aware of her presence the entire time, from when she arrived at the hospital until they got home. He still loved her, more than anything else in the world and was painfully reminded of that fact when she’d held his hand earlier. But he just didn’t feel like talking, still upset, the sting of her repudiation having lacerated his heart deeper than the cut to his brow. Sure, he knew they had to talk eventually, but as for now, all he cared about was getting dressed into something more comfortable. He walked directly to his room to change - as did she - then went to sit in the living room afterwards.

When Buffy came back out, she saw Spike slumped on the couch, looking defeated in every way imaginable, making her heart sink a little further into her stomach. She walked over to him to ask, “Can I get you your medicine?” All he did was nod, still staring at the TV though it wasn’t on. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” Retrieving a glass of water along with the Ibuprofen and Percocet, she sat down next to him and handed the items over.

As they sat there in silence, she realized she forgot to ask Fred where he’d gotten mugged. Drawing one leg up, she turned sideways to face him, hoping he’d answer her. “Spike… I was wondering something. Where exactly were you when this guy jumped you?”

He shrugged. “`Bout six or seven blocks from the Mandarin, I think… maybe more.”

The surprise of getting any reply out of him at all was lost on her after hearing what he’d said. “What were doing walking the streets instead of taking a cab?” Again, he simply shrugged, but when he didn’t give her an answer this time, she couldn’t help her temper from rising. “Don’t you realize how dangerous it is here in New York? That you’re lucky you didn’t run into a gang? Did you not think about the possibility this guy could have had a gun, that you of could have been shot or worse, killed?” She’d already lost Xander, and the idea she could have lost Spike tonight was too much for her mind to process.

He knew she was right, but her tone was accusatory and condescending, like it was his fault he got mugged, and it made him snap. “Needed some fresh air to clear my head, needed to get the bloody hell away from you and your constant… bloody teasin’.” When he finally looked her in the eyes, he knew in an instant she wasn’t berating him, she was lashing out… and not at him. He could almost feel the self blame that painted her expression as it conveyed how angry she was with herself that he’d gotten injured because of her even though in reality, she had no real control over what happened.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered honestly, and quickly wiped away a stray tear that slid down her cheek.

He couldn’t deal with this right now, especially not her tears. Standing abruptly, he announced, “`M gonna sit in the hot tub, let my muscles relax while these meds kick in.” And off he went, leaving a guilt ridden Buffy behind.

After Spike went out onto the balcony, she got up and headed for her room. She was wrong for raising her voice to him, wrong for letting Angel’s words make her second guess Spike’s motives, but most of all, wrong for having doubted Spike in any form at all tonight. If nothing else, she was determined to at least let him know that before they went to bed. If she didn’t, she knew she wouldn’t sleep a wink.

~~~*~~~

Resting his neck against the tub, his head craned heavenward, Spike stared at the raven black sky now littered by the glow of the cosmos, a full moon and giant, fluffy white snowflakes that gently floated their way to earth in the windless night.

“Mind if I join you?”

Naturally he’d heard Buffy open and close the balcony doors; he just chose not to acknowledge her until she spoke. “`S your place, too,” he said with indifference, stealing a glance at her bikini clad body as she stepped inside the Jacuzzi. He expected her to try and talk to him again, but she didn’t. She just sat there, as if she were waiting for him to speak first.

There was so much to say, so much to apologize for, so many things to set right that she didn’t know where to begin. Her voice remained frozen in her throat, trying to gauge his mood, hoping to see some indication he was at least willing to listen… but he just sat there like a statue.

The medication and the lulling effect of the whirlpool quickly sedated his body, left his mind open and raw to the pain of her rejection, to the pain of her being close enough now for him to touch… but never have.

“You know…” he began, voice cracked and parched with fatigue. “All my life, I’ve always gotten… whatever I wanted.” He didn’t care that the drugs in his system were loosening his tongue. In fact, he welcomed it as a way of getting everything off his chest… so he could move on.

He’d paused for so long after having spoken that when he laughed it, startled her. The low, drawn out tone sounded more like the dry, humorless chuckle of the insane, unsettling her nerves.

“I didn’ jus’ want you, Buffy… I needed you. I would have given up anythin’, everythin’, even my soul if it meant I could have your love, but…” Twisting his head to face her, he sighed dejectedly. “I see now you don’ want that… me, so………………… I give up.”

“No, Spike, listen… that’s not true, I-” But he interrupted her, his mind set on finishing all of what he had to say.

“You really are somethin’ special and… and `m sorry.” He studied the curls that hung loose, clinging wetly to the skin of her neck in darkened contrast to her golden hair, her forehead dampened in a fine sheen of clean sweat, tiny beads of perspiration that bejeweled the slender hollow of her throat dripping down slowly between the valley of her breasts. “Sorry that nothin’ I’ve done is good `nough.” He raised a hand out of the water to slowly trace her bottom lip with his thumb, leaving a thin wisp of steam to rise in its wake while admiring the snowflakes that adorned her head like a crown, shining like diamonds under the moonlight. “That I’ll never be good `nough for you.”

Buffy couldn’t take this, how he could honestly believe one slurred word of what he said for even a second, drugs or no drugs. It was then she found the courage to tell him like it was… and how she felt.

He looked absolutely dumbfounded when she straddled his lap, sat on his knees and took his head in her hands so he had no choice but to look at her. “That’s the longest line of bullshit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, William Giles… and that’s saying a lot.” When he chuckled, it brought a smile to her face, but she was quick to go on. “I know you’re feeling pretty loopy from your medicine right now, so having a serious discussion is out of the question, but… I need to tell you some things and I really hope you’ll let me say them.” As soon as he nodded, she let go of his face, bracing her hands on his shoulders instead. Taking a deep breath, she let it all out before making her confession. “I’ve been in love with you for… for longer than you could imagine. I’m not exactly sure when or how it happened, but it did. What I said at the ball tonight… why I ran, it was my own insecurities. You were right when you said I owe you an explanation. You deserve it and I promise that tomorrow when you’re more… alert, you’ll get it whether or not you still want me. And if you do, still want me that is… then I’m yours.”

He could hardly believe his ears, or his eyes. But he knew his girl well enough to see she was telling the truth, and she’d just literally laid her heart out there for him to either be scooped up or squashed. “Christ, Buffy… of course I still want you. Bloody hell, I’ll marry you right now if tha’s what it takes to prove how much I truly do love you.” She tilted her head to the side and giggled at him.

“That won’t be necessary, I believe you.” Sobering from her laughter, she had a single request. “Just promise me one thing.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned forward so they were face to face and whispered, “Please don’t break my heart, William.”

“Never,” he said with total conviction, watching her smile before she closed the distance between them to engage him in a soft, lingering kiss full of promise.

It was quite some time before they – reluctantly - broke apart. “We should both get some rest, especially you, Spike. It’s been a long evening and we have all day tomorrow to talk.”

“Actually, pet,” he kept rubbing his nose against hers, interspersed with light kisses to her sweet mouth. “We have all week.”

“How’s that? Mmmm.” God, his lips were intoxicating, and to think she could do this anytime she wanted now, spend hours and hours just kissing him… hell, she planned on it.

“Gotta follow doctor’s orders, meanin’ your boss has excused you from work… since I need you to look after me, take care `f me.”

She nodded after he gave her another kiss. “It’s going to take me at least week to make up for how I behaved tonight.”

“Mmmm, yeah,” he agreed, stealing several chaste kisses from her in a row. “I do believe you’re right, Miss Summers.” Another, more heated kiss this time. “Seven straight days and nights of makin’ up to me.”

“That won’t be a prob-mmmph, mmm.” If he didn’t stop kissing her like this, they’d never get out of the tub. “Okay, Romeo.” She plastered a hand to his shoulder and ignored his pout when she stood. “As much as I’m enjoying this, we really do need to get some sleep.”

“Spoil sport,” he groused.

“Sticks and stones,” she quipped back.

Spike used the bathroom to get changed first since he’d left his sweatpants inside while Buffy went to her room to retrieve her night clothes. When he came out to let her in, he walked into the living room and grabbed the bottle of Ibuprofen to keep on his nightstand.

Reemerging from the bathroom, she didn’t expect to see Spike leaning against the wall right next to her. “Is everything alright?” she asked, concerned. Instead of answering, however, he pushed away from the wall, opened his bedroom door then stretched his hand out to her.

She didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he wanted her to spend the night with him… nor did she need a second invite. Taking his hand, she yelped when he swiftly pulled her flush to his body for a quick peck on the lips. And as they settled under the covers of his bed, they shared one more long, passionate kiss before snuggling up against one another as close as they could, nodding off with matching smiles on their faces.

Waking up around five AM, Buffy gasped over the swollen condition of Spike’s brow in addition to the bruising that was slowly creeping closer and closer to his eye. She forced him to get up and take another Ibuprofen, after which he begged her to stop fussing and go back to sleep. She did, but when she re-awoke at eight thirty, she couldn’t stay in bed any longer. Careful to disentangle herself from his arms so he wouldn’t wake, she decided to surprise him by making breakfast.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE TAKE THE TIME TO READ AT LEAST THE BEGINNING AUTHOR’S NOTE ABOVE, THANK YOU.

As she carefully followed the written directions on how to make crêpes with ham and cheese, she smiled to herself. She felt… happy, the kind of giddy-happy that came from being in love and the newness of her relationship with the man sleeping just down the hall. Sure, she’d felt this way before… once, but it was different.

With Riley, they’d met, gone on a few dates, became a couple and after just a few months were engaged with the agreement they’d move in together after the wedding. With Spike, she went from hating his very existence to being friends then fell in love… and all while living together. The whole process seemed to have worked in reverse from the norm. Even so, she knew this was something that would last because all the craziness they’d gone through together over the past several weeks was what ultimately brought them together.

“Whatchya cookin?”

“AHHH!!!” Startled, she screamed before whipping around to glare daggers at him. “Damnit, Spike! Stop sneaking up on me like that.” How he always manage to do that without making a noise she’d never figure out.

“Awwww, `m sorry, pet. Woke up and you were gone so I came out to… are you makin’ crêpes?” he asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I… figured I’d make you breakfast since I couldn’t sleep any more.” The look he suddenly gave her was indescribable. “What?”

“Nothin’, just’… you really are makin’ me breakfast… and you’re not burnin’ it.” This earned him a harsh glare as she wielded the spatula at him, wagging it threateningly. He grabbed her wrist and wrapped his other arm around her waist. “Ah-ah-ah. This flapjack’s not ready to be flipped.”

“You are so cruising for it, Mister.” Nevertheless, she couldn’t help the grin that split her face. “You’re lucky I love you.” His expression, his eyes - well, the one that wasn’t swollen shut - suddenly softened as he tilted his head.

“Say it again.”

“Which part?” she teased, but didn’t hold out long from telling him, “I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.” Beyond reason, she had to admit to herself. It felt wonderful, and so easy to say those three simple words that she scolded herself for not having told him at the ball.

He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck to inhale the sweet scent of her hair. “Don’ think I’ll ever tire `f hearin’ that.”

“Good. Because you’ll be hearing it a lot from now on.” Those sinful lips of his slid sensuously up her neck and across her jaw before kissing her soundly. Tasting the mint from the toothpaste he’d used, she boldly began sucking on his tongue, shivering when he groaned into her mouth and tightened his hold to her waist. And just as she was really getting into that kiss, he abruptly pulled back. “Why’d you-”

“Crêpe is startin’ to smoke,” he replied, quickly grabbing the spatula from her and pushing her aside to get to it.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she pouted. “If it’s burnt, I hope you realize it’s your fault. You distracted me.”

Sliding it from the pan to a plate, he smirked. “It survived, see? Still edible.” He turned around to kiss her cheek. “Lemme take it from here, kitten, okay?”

“But… I want to do it. For you. You almost always make our meals so…”

She toed the ground like a little girl, looking beyond adorable as she stared at him with large doe eyes. “And I appreciate it, but le’s get somethin’ straight… `m the cook in this household. Now toddle off and feed Sebastian. At least you can’ burn his nosh.”

“Uh, you-you… fine, I will. Meh!” She poked her tongue out at him then pranced off.

~~~*~~~

While clearing the dishes after they’d finished eating, Buffy commented, “You need another Ibuprofen. The Doc said the swelling should go down within a few hours today.” Opening a cupboard, she retrieved his prescription even as she asked, “Do you want one of your painkillers?” He had to be hurting, not just his eye but his ribs, too. She hadn’t missed the way he winced when twisting his torso in order to reach the salt from its place at the edge of the table.

“Think I’ll skip the Percocet.”

“Oh?”

“You can bring it to me, though.” The confused frown she wore prompted him to explain. “Wanna have a li’l chat with you first before takin’ it so I won’ be groggy.” Seeing her body stiffen slightly told him she knew what ‘talk’ he was referring to in particular. Holding his hand out, he said, “Come here.” When she placed hers in his, he sat her on his lap and began running his fingers gently through her hair. “Relax, pet. I don’ care `bout why you ran from me last night. What I do wanna know is why the sudden change `f heart… when we got home. What changed?”

She sighed heavily. “The answer to that actually lies in the explanation I promised you.” And giving that to him took precedence over any apprehension she had as to what his reaction would be after hearing what she had to say. It must have shown in her face, too, because he gave her a supportive smile and talked softly to her.

“Hey. You’re with me `cause you love me, right?” All he cared about was that she didn’t just make that decision out of guilt over what happened to him last night.

“Yes.”

“Then there’s nothin’ to worry `bout. I jus’ want the truth, tha’s all.”

She only hoped he wouldn’t blow his top the second Angel’s name came up. “Can we maybe… move to the living room to have this discussion?” To her, the couch was kind of a safe zone, a sanctuary and source of comfort because of the many nights they’d laid there wrapped in each other’s arms. As childish as it seemed, she knew if they sat there, it would make it easier for her to tell him everything.

“Sure, pet.” He nodded, let her up then told her he had to grab the Ibuprofen bottle from his bedroom before they talked.

Once he came back, he settled himself against the armrest, insisting she sit in his lap sideways so he could see her and still hold her at the same time. Maybe he was doing it to reassure her or maybe just for the reasons he’d said. Either way she was grateful, being in his embrace always soothed her nerves.

“Okay, here goes.” Taking a deep, calming breath, she started from the beginning. “Last night…”

As they sat there, she told him the entire story from her point of view, making sure not to leave out any of the details… what Angel had said about him, her thoughts about his physical forwardness when they’d kiss, why she ran, what she was thinking when they argued in the bathroom, how wrong she knew she’d been about believing Angel after Cordelia pointed out his activities on the dance floor and finally… her decision to come home to talk to him right before Fred had called her cell phone.

During her speech, Spike remained eerily quiet, his face so impassive it was rather scary. If it weren’t for the occasional nod or the gentle stroking of her arm with his thumb, she swore he was just waiting until she’d finished before exploding… which thankfully didn’t happen. Instead, he surprised her by saying he completely understood her reasoning, even apologized for basically dry humping her on the dance floor though he had to admit he wasn’t aware he’d done it at all.

“Guess I got too caught up in the moment. Sorry, pet.”

She nodded her understanding. “So, you’re not like, mad at me? Even a little bit… o-over thinking Angel was right?”

“I wish you’d believed me when I told you how he was, but no, `m not upset with you. He’s a right manipulative bastard, and although I’d like to hunt him down, bash in that huge forehead `f his…” He lifted her hand to kiss it before smiling. “All that really matters to me now is you, your happiness. Don’ believe in holdin’ grudges, is a waste of time… time I could spend kissin’ you instead.”

He wound up with an armful of one very happy Buffy who ‘squee’d’ as she hugged him tight… until he yelped from the discomfort to his ribs.

“Oh!” She swiftly leaned away from him. “I’m so-so sorry.” Carefully lifting his thin cotton ‘T’, she cringed when seeing the bluish-purple tint marring his alabaster skin. “I really think you should take that painkiller. And God… your poor eye,” she cooed after lowering his shirt to lightly trace her fingertips around the area, mindful not to touch it.

“S’pose I can take it now. What I have to tell you won’ take long. I’ll be finished before the effects kick in.”

“What are you referring to?” she asked while opening the bottle and handing one to him.

After swallowing it and setting his water aside, he wrapped his arms around her again. “Gonna tell you the unfortunate story `f my family.”

“Your family?”

“Yeah. See… Angelus’ father and mine are related. First cousins. And growin’ up, they were constantly tryin’ to outdo one another in every way they could. It made for quite the strained relationship as you can imagine, but it got worse, much worse when…” Sighing, he told her what he knew she wouldn’t have believed until today. “My mother, Anne, came along.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, and realizing he was explaining his relationship to the O’Connors… things were already starting to click into place.

“Both `f them fancied her, wanted her, and it turned into a vicious battle for her attention… `til Liam asked her to marry him.” At Buffy’s gasp, he held up his hand as a sign to let him continue. “My Da really loved her, and was crushed when she accepted the proposal. Three years later after they had Angelus, it became obvious she was nothing more to Liam than having one up on my old man. I say obvious `cause she found out `bout his extra-marital affairs shortly after the birth.”

“She divorced him naturally, and `bout a year later when she moved to London, she ran into my Da again. After a few months, they got married, had me and because she shared custody of Angelus with Liam… I was forced to grow up with him.” He shook his head, pursing his lips when admitting, “Guess the apple doesn’ fall far from the family tree. Every time we were together, it was the same way between us like it was for Liam and my father. We competed over everythin’… includin’ how many women we each, ah… got.”

Buffy had a mental ‘a-ha’ moment. That explained the hate between them as well as their shared ‘enthusiasm’ for womanizing. The sheepish look he sported after admitting that said how remorseful he now felt over engaging in that sort of activity, so she bit her tongue. She knew he loved her, and had more than proved those days for him were over.

“The only good thing that came out of havin’ to spend time with the git is that Liam cultivated a conscience, regretted what he’d done to Anne and in turn, grew to love me like I was his own. That never did sit well with Angelus,” he said to himself before looking back up at her. “So there you have it.”

“Wow, that’s just... huh. Half-brothers and… no offense, but before today, I never would have believed it.”

“Is why I never told you.”

“God, I feel… awful for saying that, but-”

“Don’ be. There’s no need. Now that we’ve, uhmm, had this… our conversation… are we still good?”

She adored the way he acted so fidgety all of a sudden, as if he even needed to worry about that! “Better than good, we’re great, we’re… how you said it once, bloody fantastic!”

Both relieved and laughing hysterically, he responded, “It is bloody fantastic, but tha’s the worst impression `f a British accent I’ve ever heard.”

“Whatever.” She swatted his shoulder. “Are you gonna stop laughing long enough to kiss me, or do I have to do all the work?”

He sobered quickly and teased her in a seductive tone. “Oh, baby… please do.” And boy wasn’t he surprised when she did just that, taking his face in her hands to kiss him so thoroughly and with such passion, his jeans soon felt a mite too confining.

“Hmmm,” she hummed with contentment then pulled away and got up from the couch to announce, “I’m going to take a shower.”

Dazed but smart enough to cover his aroused state with a hand, he asked, “Aren’ you goin’ to the gym today?”

“Nah, I can skip it. Besides, the doctor wanted me to look out for any signs you might have a concussion.”

“I’ll be fine, pet. You can go.”

“Nope, I’m staying. But before I shower…” She went into the kitchen, grabbed a frozen bag of peas, wrapped it in a thin towel then walked back into the living room and handed it to him. “This should help with the swelling.”

And possibly my erection, too, he hoped, taking it from her with a smile and a simple ‘thank you’ before she left.

~~~*~~~

Buffy came back just in time to see Spike angrily hurl a book through the air while cussing up a storm. “What the… what’s wrong?” She walked over to pick up the abused tome before coming to sit next to him.

“Too difficult to read with one eye… givin’ me a right bloody headache.”

“Want me to read it to you?”

“No.” He sulked immaturely at the thought of being read to like some child.

“Oh, come on, Mr. Pouty.” Ruffling his hair affectionately, she encouraged him by revealing something from her past. “I don’t mind at all. I used to read to my mom every night when she was sick in the hospital.”

“Seriously?” He looked at her with a combination of curiosity and admiration. “You used to do that?”

“Yup. So why don’t you move over so I can lie down properly and tell me what page.”

“You’re really amazin’.”

“I know,” she replied cheekily.

“Page ninety eight, saucy bint.” Oh, he tried to sound serious but he didn’t fool her, not with the wide grin on his face as she nudged him over and curled into his side. As she inspected the cover, he could see the disinterest on her face at the subject.

“New book, huh?” Rolling her eyes at the title, she read it aloud in a dramatic voice. “Elegant Universe: Super Strings, Hidden Dimensions, and the Quest for the Ultimate Theory by Brian Greene. What’s super string and what does it have to do with hidden dimensions? I mean, are we talking like Twilight Zone stuff? Because if dimensions are hidden then it’s for a reason and maybe we shouldn’t go searching for them.”

Chuckling at her naivety, he explained it as best he could. “Super string is a concept devised to help scientists describe both energy and matter simultaneously. The dimensions, like say a black hole or space-time for instance, are what physicists and mathematicians are interested in… what goes on with them beyond human perception.”

“Not that I don’t get that but, er, actually I don’t. But do you ever just like, read for fun?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, he answered, “That is fun for me, pet.”

“Let me rephrase that. I meant like a-a novel, fiction rather. Something that makes you have to use your imagination, takes you on a journey like a good mystery, drama, or romance.” He let out a quick ‘pfft’ at the latter mentioned theme. “Okay, so forget romance in Harlequin terms, but general fiction has the human element to it that science doesn’t, emotions, conflicting personalities, barriers, stuff like that. Take for example Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin. Granted it’s a period romance, but it’s much more than just that. It’s about a man who is not only rich but also so prideful he doesn’t see the penniless main female character’s true worth, and she in turn is more than willing to believe the worst of him as told by a sub-character. Naturally, there was a ton of misunderstanding right from the beginning between them because of it. Now add in the element of social and economical realities of nineteenth century matrimonial maneuvering and you have even more conflict of a different nature. But nevertheless, they eventually overcame those misconceptions and braved societal norms to fall deeply in love with one another.”

That sounded somewhat parallel to ‘them’ and he couldn’t help but jest, “Think you should write a book, pet. `Bout our li’l love story. Now tha’s somethin’ I’d pay good money to read… with as complex as your noggin is.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, because if not…” Holding the book in her hand up, she jutted her chin out defiantly. “Bet if I did, it would sell more copies than this.”

“It probably would,” he agreed then shrugged when adding, “`M simply more left-brained orientated than others, luv.”

Tilting her head thoughtfully she made a suggestion. “Maybe you should go back to school and become an astronomer or a-a physicist. I mean, what gives with you being in Sales anyway? I never understood that. Seems like a waste of that brain of yours. Oh, sorry, I totally meant that in a good way.”

“Touché.” Chit made a good point. “Guess I went with a business degree `cause tha’s what both my father and Liam do… own and run a lot `f businesses.”

“Huh, well… at least not every girl can say her boyfriend is a genius.”

She kissed his cheek as he smiled unabashedly. To hear her call him ‘boyfriend’ and sound so casual about it after wanting her for as long as he had, he couldn’t get over how it made him feel. He, William Giles, had a girlfriend, was somebody’s boyfriend… and not just anyone’s, the girl of his dreams. He couldn’t be prouder, and he’d make sure she remained happy with her decision to be with him at any cost.

Turning to the page he’d indicated, she found it was a new chapter. “‘Microscopic Weirdness’. Sure, why not? I’ve seen all sorts of macro weirdness here in New York,” she commented with a touch of sarcastic humor before diving in to begin reading.

~~~*~~~

Fifty minutes later………

“…that the energy in the field – even in an empty region of space – fluctuates up and down, with the size of the fluctuations getting larger as the distance and time scales on which the region is examined get smaller and I don’t understand a lick of what I just read,” Buffy finished then glanced over to find Spike fast asleep.

Percocet must have knocked him out. Yay for modern medicine, she cheered inwardly because her head was spinning from reading page after page of this gibberish, which meant exactly squat to her. “You are so very lucky I love you,” she whispered, removing the bag of peas to kiss his forehead lightly.

That’s when she noticed his swelling was finally starting to go down, but also that his bandage was turning a reddish brown, no doubt due to the oozing of his wound. They didn’t have any gauze here in the apartment to change it with so she decided that while he slept, she’d go to the drug store. Getting up from the couch, she took the peas with her and threw them back in the freezer then wrote a quick note telling him where she went in case he woke before she returned.

Exiting the apartment quietly, she waited until she was outside their building then called Cordy. Her brunette friend had a million questions, all of which Buffy answered before the biggest one of all came out… had she made up with Spike?

“More than made up, we’re together now,” she replied while walking down the sidewalk of the bustling city with a huge grin on her face. Cordy was ecstatic for her but stunned Buffy with her reply.

“I have no further questions.”

“Really? Wow! However, before I let you go, I have a few for you, Missy. Like what’s up with Willy and Owen? I got the impression you were dating Willy but then you were danci-”

Cordy cut her off. “I’m just keeping my options open.”

Buffy could only laugh at that. “I don’t understand what that means, but I’m sure you’ll tell me when you feel like it.”

After a quick goodbye, she went into the store and made sure to talk to the pharmacist so that she bought the proper dressing, tape, Neosporin upon his advice to prevent infection and a bottle of iodine to clean the wound with before applying it.

On her way back home, she happened to spy a bookstore on the opposite side of the street, reminding her of the chat about fiction she had earlier with Spike. On a whim, she used the crosswalk and headed straight for it. Twenty minutes later - and after talking extensively with a clerk - she located exactly what she was looking for.

~~~*~~~

“There you are. You know, pet, you keep leavin’ me every time I fall asleep,” Spike accused her as she locked the door behind her.

“Didn’t read my note, did you?” The fact he was in the process of sitting up coupled with his confused look said he hadn’t had a chance. “Never mind. How did you sleep?”

Scratching his head while yawning, he answered, “Fine.” Seeing the piece of paper she left on the coffee table, he quickly read it… then looked at her in total shock. “Bloody hell. I can read!”

“Uhmm… congratulations?” He upped and went down the hall in such a hurry that she dropped her bags and followed behind him, wondering what was wrong. By the time she reached the bathroom, she saw him staring at the mirror, and from his reflection, she instantly understood. His eye was slowly but surely returning to normal, the swelling having receded enough that he could open it.

“Just in time,” she remarked, smiling. “Oh, and we need to get that bag of peas back on your eye so it continues to go down, too.”

Turning around with his own smile, he walked over to wrap her up in his arms. “I’ll take the frozen veggies now then, `cause you’ve no idea how… jus’ in time?” It took a second before that comment caught up to him. “For what?”

“Come on.” She backed away from him to take her coat off then exited the room. “I’ve something special to show you that I think you’re really going to like.”

As he walked behind her down the hall, eyes riveted to the enticing sway of her hips, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Already see somethin’ I like… a lot,” he purred. “Ooof!” She’d stopped short and turned around to shoot him a look when he ran into her.

Poking a finger in his chest, she berated him, though not too seriously. “I didn’t mean me, you big doofus. Buuuut...” Since they were together now, turnabout was fair play. “Maybe you can tell me more about what you like and…” With half hooded eyes, she ran her finger in a seductive manner down his torso, halting just above the button of his jeans. “What exactly you’d like to do with what you see. Who knows? I might even be… agreeable to it.” Hearing him growl in response made her heat up and shiver at the same time, it always did. Another thing that drove her equally insane was that bottom lip of his. Unable and unwilling to restrain herself, she leaned in to suck it into her mouth, taste it with her tongue before pulling away to tell him, “But not right now. Later… baby.” Her voice didn’t sound like her own; it was husky and filled with need. Even her brazen behavior surprised her a little when all she’d set out to do was tease a little.

Evil of her? Perhaps. Did she care? Not in the least. She had her man, and knew when the time came… she was ready.

“Christ, pet. Please tell me tha’s a promise?” He didn’t dare molest her in the hallway like he wanted to, but that didn’t keep him from holding her to her word if she said yes to his question.

“Later, I promise.”

His balls tightened, groin aching painfully for her all over again, damnit, but it couldn’t be helped. “How much later?”

“Overanxious are we?” His eyes turned that dangerous shade of sapphire as he smiled lasciviously, making her wonder exactly what beast or demon she’d just released by making that promise. And for every step she took backwards, he took one forwards with each word he spoke.

“You. Have. No. Bloody. Idea.”

“Eeep!” She sprinted into the living room when he made a grab for her. However, he didn’t chase after her; he simply sauntered around the corner like the confident predator he was. “Later means later, Romeo,” she made sure to sound serious this time. She had to take care of him first, so picking one of her two bags up, she said, “You need a bandage change and more cold on your eye. Then I have something to show you.”

“Still gonna hold you to your word, though. Naughty vixen.”

GULP!!! She found herself literally looking forward to it… and where it would lead next. It was almost unbelievable how much this man was corrupting her – and her thoughts - without even laying a finger on her.

“Lay down on the couch so I can get to work… perv!”

“Yes ma’am. But callin’ me names, however true they are, won’ get you out `f anythin’.” After he winked, she rolled her eyes at him and headed into the kitchen.

“Alright, this may hurt a bit,” she told him as she sat on the coffee table, setting her supplies in her lap. “But I’ll be as careful as I can.”

He hissed when the bandage stuck as she tried to pull it off, but the pain didn’t last long. Buffy had a gentle touch and used the ointment she’d bought to help loosen the rest by moistening it before peeling away the remainder of the gauze. She took great care in cleaning it up with the iodine before reapplying the Neosporin, then cutting a reasonable sized piece of dressing; she taped it in place and put the refrozen bag of peas over his entire eye.

“All done. Now hopefully in a few more hours, you’ll be able to fully open that eye so you can appreciate…” Leaning down, she picked up the bag from the bookstore and placed it on his chest. “The gift I got you.”

“Gift?” Pushing himself to sit upright, he pulled a single book out of the brown sack to read the title. “Icarus at the Edge `f Time… by Brian Greene!” he exclaimed happily. “Buffy… I don’ know what to say. Never heard `f this book but you know I like the author.” With one arm, he reached for her waist and hauled her onto his lap to kiss her repeatedly on the cheek and lips, letting the peas slide between them.

Giggling, she still had yet to tell him something about his present. “You’re welcome, but you might want to read the back before you thank me.”

“Can you do it for me?”

“Oh! Sorry. I forgot.” Obviously, it would still be a task for him to read fine print such as this, so she traded him the frozen bag for the book and cleared her throat. “The starship Proxima is on a twenty-five-trillion mile journey. Icarus was born on the ship as was his father and his father’s father, but there will be two more generations before the Proxima reaches its destination. As the tale begins, the Proxima is making an emergency diversion to avoid a black hole. Icarus wants to get a closer look. Although his father explains that when something goes into a black hole it never comes out, Icarus is confident that he can journey to the black hole’s edge and still make it back. He sneaks one of the Runabout ships out of the docking station and sets off to explore the black hole on his own. The result is unexpected and startling. Icarus returns to find his world profoundly and forever transformed. In Icarus at the Edge of Time, Brian Greene has given us a fable about fathers and sons, curiosity and wisdom, and the complexity of the universe as only a physicist of his range and lucidity could.”

“And… it has full-color images from the Hubble Space Telescope,” she finished proudly. “I bought it for you because I think it’s the perfect marriage between real science and science fiction. So I hope you’ll still like it now that you know it’s actually a story, fiction.”

Bowled over, by not only her find but also her thinking behind getting it for him, he took the book from her and set it aside. “Can I jus’ say how wonderful and thoughtful you are? How much I love you?” God but he adored it when she blushed the way she was now.

“I think you just did.”

She didn’t resist when he pulled her body into a position on top of his and began kissing her tenderly, breathy ‘I love you-s’ spoken every now and then until he knew he had to stop, lest this go too far. Oh, he wanted her, right now and every minute in between, but until she said she was ready, he had to remind himself not to push too much.

“Le’s say we order in tonight and jus’ watch a movie?” he asked, caressing her cheek with his fingers, loving the way she closed her eyes in bliss and leaned into his touch.

“Mm-hmm.” It was her turn to purr. “Sounds great.” Anything so she could stay in his arms as long as she could.

~~~~*~~~

A few hours later, in the early evening………

Bellies full and enveloped in the other’s arms; the blond couple lay on the couch watching something about the solar system on the Discovery Channel. Whereas before Buffy could care less, she took an avid interest in it now for the sole sake that Spike did. Lo and behold, it was far easier to understand than she thought, well, simpler than reading a book littered with technical jargon anyway.

As that program ended and another began on ‘The Ten Deadliest Sharks’, Spike shifted so he was lying on his side, his back against the couch.

“Do your ribs hurt? Do you need another pill?”

“No, luv, they’re fine, thanks.” He kissed the top of her head and threw the now fully de-thawed peas on the coffee table. “Looks worse than it feels, really. Plus the medication is still doin’ is job.” Using the arm he had surrounding her waist, he encouraged her to roll towards him.

“Good to hear.” Turning with his movements until they were face to face, she examined his eye. “Oh wow, your lid is almost all the way open now.”

“All the better to see you with, li’l girl.”

How he managed to waggle his one good brow without hurting the damaged one and still look sexy while doing it, she couldn’t figure out. She giggled at his little red riding hood reference as he took her hand, draped it over his shoulder then cupped her chin to bring her even closer.

“Speakin’ `f seein’, someone made me a promise… and is time to collect,” he breathed hotly in her ear then licked the shell with the tip of his tongue.

“Ohhh, I-I… yessmmm.” Coherent words weren’t forthcoming right away, but who cared? Certainly not her. Still, she had to ask, “S-so what do you see that, ah-mmm.” She bit her lip against the wet assault of his open mouth on her neck that sent tingles all the way down to her toes, making them curl. “You like and-and what do you, oh-God… want to do to… to-to…” She simply couldn’t finish asking.

“Same answer for both……… everythin’,” his voice came out rough, deep. Feeling her shudder and sigh had his chest swelling with pride… and something else further south swelling with need. Heedful of any lines that she didn’t want crossed, however, had him asking in a near pleading voice, “Are you… agreeable with that?”

Oh, God, how could she say no? Apprehensive as she may be about taking this final step, she knew she’d be fooling herself if she said anything other than, “Yes!”

If he weren’t already so turned on, he’d be downright nervous by her answer. Oh, it was definitely the one he’d longed to hear but… this was it. Really ‘it’. The moment was here. He’d finally know what it meant, what it felt like to make love with the one woman he cared about more than life itself and by God, he was going to take his time with her.

‘I love you’ was all she heard before he covered her mouth with his, pulling her against his lean, strong body without an inch to spare. Holding his neck with one hand, she placed her other arm underneath his shoulder, clinging to him as she let go and gave herself over to everything he made her feel.

Seconds passed slowly as they exchanged kiss after kiss, some tender and sweet, others more needy and desperate. She could feel every hard muscle, every angular plane of his powerful form as she tried to press herself even closer against him. Her hand wandered inside his shirt, wanting to feel the soft skin of his back beneath her fingertips. The growl she earned from him for her actions came with an equally eager hand that dipped beneath her shorts to cup her bottom. No longer afraid of the erection she felt digging into her thigh, she bent her knee and coiled her leg around his as high as she could, tugging on him while her hips began moving instinctively.

The sudden heat of her center flushed to his groin, the wanton way she ground herself against his cock made him lose his mind. He snapped, went wild with the primal need to consume her, flipped her onto her back and ignored any pain to his ribs as he nudged her thighs apart with his knee to start thrusting against her.

The delightful mewling noises she made coupled with the friction created between them made him grow more untamed in his movements, almost undisciplined like a schoolboy ready to spill in his pants. It was getting to be too much for him to handle and he had to slow down; had to before he disgraced himself. Just as he tried, just as he gained an ounce of control, she spoke, and what she said amidst the heated kisses nearly had him coming undone.

“Oh God, can’t… can’t wait any, any longer, William. Please just take me, please make me yours.”

His eyes crossed, head flung back as she wriggled her tiny hand down to yank on the button to his jeans, but he grabbed her wrist, refusing to do this here on the couch. “I’ll take you, pet… but it’ll be you makin’ me yours… in your bed.”

Forehead to forehead, she nodded her understanding, panting with the desire for him to give her what she’d never had before, with any man. “Waited so long… want you so bad. Want you to be my first.”

She kissed him again, deeply, and he could feel her pouring all her love, her trust into him to take care of her right… until what she’d said hit him.

He abruptly took her head in both hands and forced her away from him. “What did you say?”

“That I want you,” she replied absentmindedly, still too dazed and breathing hard to comprehend the real question he was asking.

“N-no, the part `bout bein’ your… your first.” There’s no bloody way… was there?