Chapter 4- Spread Your Wings

One of these mornings
You're gonna rise, rise up singing
You're gonna spread your wings, child,
And take to the sky.
-Janis Joplin
-Summertime

On Saturday the Beachside Cottage office closed at 11:00 a.m. Buffy had taken clean towels to the occupied cottages earlier, finished her other chores and returned to the parking lot. Dawn had already left to spend the day with a friend. She climbed into her truck and drove to the local building supply store. Her plan was to tile the office floor over the weekend, finishing before they reopened on Monday.

An hour later she pulled back into the parking lot, boxes of tile piled in the truck bed. Spike, rolling a large brown car cover over his convertible, watched her park the large white truck in the spot next to him.

She noticed him as she stepped down. “That's probably a good idea.”

He grimaced and gestured at his Healy. “I thought I'd better cover it. The bloody birds in the trees here love the black.” He noticed the boxes. “Nice color. What are you planning to tile?”

“I'm going to do the office floor.”

He was impressed. “That's an ambitious project.” Looking in her truck bed, he commented. “ I guess you already have your saw.”

“I've got all sorts of saws.”

Spike’s lips quirked. “No, a tile saw. You need a special saw to cut the angles.”

Buffy looked surprised. “I didn't know that.” She picked up a box of tile and started for the office, speaking back over her shoulder. “I've never actually tiled anything before. The handyman book didn't explain that part.”

Buffy wasn't sure what to do. She could call Xander, the handyman she’d hired before, but on a Saturday morning she knew he wouldn't be able to stop what he was doing to help her and she didn't want him to anyway. She couldn’t really afford to pay him to do something like this and she really wanted to get this done. Buffy could think of only one thing to do. She'd have to ask William. She didn't know if that would be construed as trying to be friendlier than she wanted, but she really had no choice. He did seem nice enough, not like he'd turn into a stalker or something over a few easy questions.

Spike watched the blonde woman standing in the doorway; she seemed to be having a debate with herself.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy finally looked over at him and asked. “Would you mind coming in and explaining what the saw actually looks like and how to use it? I'll need to go back to the store and buy one. Obviously I don't know anything about them.”

So that was what all that internal debate was about? Well, Pet, which am I? The grand prize or the consolation prize? He was amused and intrigued at the same time. Buffy was a refreshing change from all the overdone fawning that usually accompanied any chance encounter with women. But just keep her at arm’s length. His honestly compelled him to admit that she didn’t seem at all interested anyway, so that shouldn’t be a problem.

He shrugged nonchalantly, grabbed a couple of boxes and followed her into the office.

“Actually, you only need to rent one of them unless you plan to do a lot more tiling in the future. My da owns a construction company in England. I worked for him every summer during high school and college, so I've done a bit. Why don't I go with you and show you?”

Buffy shook her head. “I can't ask you to do that. You're a guest and you're on vacation. It just wouldn't be right.”

Spike paused briefly. He really needed to find out more about this girl, if only so he could push her to the far corner of his mind. She was invading his thoughts and that just wasn't going to work out well, so he persisted. “I insist, can't leave a damsel in distress, it wouldn't be gentlemanly. I don't have any actual plans now that the car's safe and I really don't mind. In fact, you can show me the local landmarks along the way. Then it's like you're being a tour guide. Part of the entire vacation package."

She watched him intently for a moment, but she finally relented with a smile. “Well, when you put it that way, o.k. But I've gotta warn you. Sunnydale is pretty small, so not too many famous landmarks, unless you count the drycleaner's. They had a huge chemical fire last year. Everybody still points at it.”

On the way to the home improvement store, Buffy and Spike tentatively made small talk. They danced around each other warily, both trying to keep the conversation light and impersonal.

Spike soon discovered that Buffy was trying hard to keep everything running while making a life for her and her sister. He was impressed with her ambition. She was not only beautiful, but a strong personality and witty sense of humor lay underneath the tightly controlled facade. Spike was enchanted.

Buffy was pleasantly surprised. In the space of a few moments, William had made her feel good about herself and her ambitions. He was obviously a kind man, although extremely reserved. He had a ready wit and a snarky sense of humor that matched her own. She started to look at him in a slightly different light.

By the time they returned to Beachside, Spike had convinced Buffy to let him teach her how to use the saw.

It took several hours to lay out the design, cut the tiles and mortar them to the floor. They worked in tandem cutting and placing the tiles. When one got tired of bending, instinctively the other would take over the job. They worked so well together, they finished faster than either expected.

Spike placed the last tile and stood up. “Now it just needs to set overnight and then you can grout it in the morning." He looked over the floor critically. "It looks good pet.”

Buffy put the last empty box in the corner. “It's a much more intricate design than I would have attempted on my own.” She tried to think of some way to thank him.

“Please let me thank you by making dinner, unless you have other plans.”

He smiled at her, surprised. “No, I haven't any plans at all. I'll just shower and change. Would an hour work out?”

An hour was perfect. She would have time to shower and still make something nice.

“That's great. My cottage is behind the office. See you in an hour or so.”

An hour later found him climbing the steps of a larger cottage. Situated behind the office, and screened by several large juniper trees, Buffy's cottage had a much wider porch than the rentals. It looked like an actual home.

The front door was painted a shiny brown and had straw baskets full of hanging vines flanking it. Several wicker chairs with flowered cushions were spaced around the large front porch. A round glass topped table, placed between two of the chairs, held a candle and a pot of purple violets. The cottage exuded an air of homey and unpretentious comfort.

When he knocked, Buffy opened the door wearing a light peach sundress, her hair soft and flowing. She smiled, stepped aside and gestured him into the room. “Hi, I'm glad you could come over tonight. I really wanted a chance to thank you for all that help. The lasagna will be ready in a few minutes.” She suddenly looked a bit anxious. “I hope you like Italian food.”

He walked past her into the cottage, turned and handed her a bottle of wine. Deliberately, he sniffed the air, and then couldn't help smiling. “It smells incredible. I love lasagna.”

Spike felt himself fall a little bit harder. He was starting to believe Buffy Summers could do just about anything. She was an accomplished businesswoman, a great cook and she looked incredibly sexy in that dress.

Spike took a deep breath and told himself to slow way down. After all, his life was too complicated to invite someone else into it right now, even if she was incredible and there was that one other small problem. She didn't really seem too interested and his plate was too full anyway. First step to new chapter in life- get your head together.

Buffy's face brightened. “Oh that's good then. It's one of my favorites, too.”

Spike crossed the room to look at a portrait on the wall. Buffy caught herself staring at him. His hair, still damp from the shower, curled slightly. He was wearing tight black jeans and an azure shirt that stretched tightly across his abdomen. Wrenching her eyes away, she excused herself to check on dinner.

In the kitchen, she gave herself a stern lecture. Even though he looks incredible- I mean that shirt really works with his blue eyes- I cannot get involved with a man right now. This is just a thank you dinner, nothing more. I don't need or want the complications. I don't think he's really interested anyway, just a nice person. A nice person who doesn’t even live around here. Besides, Buffy, you’re making yourself into a walking cliché, thinking about a relationship with a guest.

Spike walked into the kitchen during her internal debate.

Buffy shook her head, realizing that he'd said something. “What?”

His lips quirked. “I asked if you had a cork screw.”

Chapter 5 -Call on Me

When the rain is falling
And you feel like a stranger
Call on me, call on me
I'll be by your side
-Bad Company
- Call on Me

After they sat down at the dining room table with their salads and the lasagna, they laughed nearly nonstop. Buffy told Spike silly stories about her child hood in California with Dawn and Spike told her about growing up in England with three older brothers.

They discovered a mutual love for pineapple pizza and old black and white movies. He confessed to a secret love for Passions, a soap that Buffy's mom used to watch. She admitted to a high school crush on someone strictly because of his hot car.

After Spike helped her with the dishes they returned to the living room. She sat down on a corner of the leather couch. He dropped down next to her, and pulled out his wallet. Reaching in, he pulled out some snapshots and handed one to her. "This is my niece Annie. I got the pic a couple months ago, right after her birth. She'll be a heartbreaker later.”

A fleeting expression of pain and sadness crossed Buffy's face. She handed the photo back smiling a bit too brightly. “She really is beautiful.”

Spike looked at her sharply and tried to assess the reason for the sudden wall.

She gave no explanation and pretended nothing was wrong. He picked up on the cue and quickly handing her another photo. “This is her da and mum, my oldest brother Mickey and his wife Sybil.”

Buffy had been given a completely unexpected shock. She tried not to appear maudlin and gamely looked down at the couple. The woman had a heart shaped face and the man resembled an older and heavier William. They were holding hands and smiling into the camera. There was an unidentifiable building behind them.

“Where do they live? London?”

He grinned. “Not everyone British lives in London, Pet. Place called Torquay. It's on the water, like here, but colder. I visit them as much as I can.”

She handed his photo back. “Is a love of the beach the reason you chose Beachside for your vacation?”

Spike's face assumed a smooth mask and his voice a guarded tone. “It's not really a vacation per se. I've let some things slide in my life lately and I needed somewhere I could think about those issues. I do love the beach and I didn't want a lot of people about. When Dawn mentioned that you were newly opened, it sounded perfect.”

It was Buffy's turn to wonder about the sudden coolness. She realized she'd struck a nerve. Spike smiled and in an obvious ploy to change the topic, asked “So, how do you like being your own boss?”

After regaling him with a story about finding how badly a cottage roof needed repair when her foot fell through it, she tucked both feet under her and finished her wine. Their earlier easy camaraderie reestablished itself and they both privately sighed in relief.

Spike, still chuckling, leaned back against the couch. He reached for the ashtray Buffy provided and lit another cigarette. “Speaking of cottages, pet, I was wondering if you might have space for someone else. I've an old friend who wants to visit while he's in the states on a business trip. He'll be arriving Wednesday. If not, he can just stay with me.”

“I've got one that's nearly ready. It just needs the porch floor rebuilt and a few small things inside, but I'm not sure it can be done by Wednesday.”

He leaned forward. "What if I help you? Since it's my friend that's rushing it a bit?"

She thought about it. “Two people could have it ready that quickly. Why don't
I meet you Monday morning? I've got to clean yours and the Wood's cottages and then we can start. I want to give you or your friend a break on the rental as payment for the work. It's the only way I'll agree to it.”

“It's certainly not necessary, although I'm sure Rupert would be delighted. Buffy, pet, about the daily cleaning. I really don't need a maid every day. Even at home, I only have a service that comes weekly. Could you just leave the towels and stuff on the porch most days? I promise not to let the trash get out of hand.” He smirked. “And if it does, I'll just throw it over the cliff into the water. That way, you'll never know.”

She laughed. “Sure, no problem.” Then she pretended to frown. “You know, we're a small town but we do have litter laws.”

He chuckled and stubbed out his cigarette. He stood up. “Well, it's been a busy day and I'm a bit knackered. I'm gonna go. Thanks for dinner and the company. See you Monday.”

She opened the door for him. “Thanks again for teaching me the tiling stuff.”

She gently closed the door.

After Spike left, Buffy walked around the cottage and finished cleaning up. As she emptied Spike's ashtray, she thought back on the dinner. She suddenly realized she hadn't enjoyed anything that much in a long time. It had to be before New York.

Buffy always categorized her life into two separate parts. There was the 'before she moved to New York' portion and there was the 'after she left New York and returned to California' portion. The before New York half was how her life should have gone. She had been in love with Angel, had all the money she needed to keep the wolf away, and everything had been great. Then the part during and after New York had somehow turned out wrong.

Now, trying to parent a teenager and keep her business afloat at the same time presented more of the same. She loved her sister and her new business but they were exhausting. She always felt tired.

Sitting down on the couch, she drew her legs up under her and stared out the picture window, wondering if she'd ever have the courage or enough energy to start another category.

She though of the proud smile on William's face when he had produced the photo of his new niece. She decided that he'd make a wonderful father. She already believed him to be a nice man. Laying her head on the arm of the couch, she suddenly felt exhausted. A new category would just be way too hard. Dawn arrived back from her friend's house an hour later to discover her sister sitting on the couch in the darkened room staring out the window.
*******
Spike strolled back to his cottage. He couldn't stop thinking about Buffy. He thought he sensed a genuine connection between them, and he suddenly felt nervous and afraid.

Before I could ever tell her anything that I'm beginning to feel, I'd have to tell her more about myself, but what would I say? I'm a writer who can't seem to write anymore, recently out of rehab, with a dangerous reputation and scars where my heart used to be. Yeah, that's a conversation I can't wait to have, it's sure to turn out so well...

He spied his elephant again, still perched on the table. Unexpectedly the glimmer of an idea sparked and words started to flow through his head. He opened the laptop and hit the start button. While he waited for it to boot up, he remembered all the time he'd spent recently staring at a blank screen. He started to panic and doubt himself. The insistent thought of waiting until morning crossed his mind.

Analyzing his feelings Spike realized he was still frightened of yet another attempt to write. He knew if he didn't try again now; that if he put it off again, it would be the end of his writing career. He would never write again and he would have lost an important part of himself forever.

He took a deep breath, resolutely reached over and pulled the laptop close. It was now or never. Tentatively he tapped out the first sentence.

Chapter 6- Hey 19

Hey 19,
No we can't dance
No we got nothing in common,
Please take me along when
You slide on down.
-Steely Dan
-Hey 19

After an uneventful Sunday, part of which was spent grouting the new floor, Buffy needed some time away from work. She decided to buy some new clothes without analyzing the reason.

Dawn had been impatient for Buffy to leave. After prying yesterday's events out of her sister, Dawn was ready for someone to stick a fork in her. She was just that done with Buffy's angst filled, monk-like life of the past two years. After all, she wasn't getting any younger.

Dawn had discussed her sister at length with her best friend Janice that morning on the phone and they both came to the same conclusion. It was going to take some sisterly meddling to move things along. Buffy needed to get back on that dating horse. Dawn had already decided that the yummy Brit in cottage 4 was the perfect horse to ride. After all, even though he was old, he was in fantastic shape. He obviously had money and bonus- he already seemed to like her sister. Like most men all he needed was a push in the right direction, namely toward Buffy.

As soon as Buffy's truck pulled away from the parking lot, Dawn snatched up her excuse for a visit, also known as the computer questionnaire, and set out purposefully down the path to the cottages. As she rounded the curve by the first cottage, she saw Spike sitting on the porch swing, clad only in a pair of black board shorts, his bare feet propped on another chair. He was smoking and typing on a laptop. He raised a hand in greeting.

Oh my God. Look at his abs. He could so be a male model. Damn it, Buffy, how can you possibly even think about letting this guy get away?

“Hi Mr. Jamison, I brought the questionnaire I spoke to you about on the phone. I was wondering if you'd mind reading it over and answering it? The girl who designed the website is coming up in a couple days and she'd love some input.” She looked around the porch. “Mind if I sit with you for a while? I've got some time off and Buffy went to the mall.”

He closed the laptop. “I told you lot to call me William. Sure, I'll fill out your paper.”

Warily, he pulled his feet from the chair and pushed it toward her.

Spike liked the young girl, she seemed very pleasant, and she was Buffy's little sister, but he was still uneasy. Over the years, he had grown very cautious around teenage girls. In his experience, they usually either attempted to manipulate him into helping with some grand career goal, or showed up on his doorstep late at night wearing a coat and nothing else.

Even when he was drinking his heaviest, he had purposely shied away from them. They were just too unpredictable. Spike had always liked his women old enough to have life experiences. Not to mention both the immorality and the illegality of sleeping with young girls. It was all just a little too tawdry. He wondered what Buffy's younger sister really wanted from him. Why was she really here?

As Dawn smiled her thanks, sitting down in the proffered chair, she noticed William's nervous demeanor. He was sitting rigidly in the swing. Dawn realized she had to make him feel more comfortable, so he would be amiable to her suggestions. She decided to start with something light. She pointed at his laptop and smiled brightly. “How's your vacation going? What have you been doing?”

He looked at her cautiously. “I'm trying to write something. I used to do it a lot, but it's been awhile, and I want to see if I've still got the knack.”

Dawn perked up. “Are you any good at it?” God, he's smart, too. Buffy is so an idiot.

“Dunno, I used to be okay.” He decided to change the subject before the teen could ask anymore personal questions about his background. He fished around for another topic. “So how was the movie? Buffy said you went out with friends last night.”

Dawn realized instantly that the question was a perfect opening for the type of conversation she really wanted to have. She sat back and grimaced, using the perfect mix of theatrics and boredom that every teenaged girl acquired on their thirteenth birthday.

“I guess o.k. My friend Janice fixed me up with this guy and he turned out to be a real jerk. Why do good looking guys just think they're so special? It's just a teen thing, right? Not really a guy thing? I mean you're a gorgeous guy and you're not all snotty and stuck up.”

Spike smirked. "You think I'm gorgeous, huh?"

Dawn smiled sweetly; “Well, yeah, for an older guy.” Then she shrugged casually. “Anyway, I'm just quoting Buffy.”

Buffy thinks I'm gorgeous?? Spike immediately relaxed. He realized that Buffy's little sister just wanted to seek advice from someone older and wiser. He felt sorry for her; it must be tough to not have any older male role models. He decided he didn't mind playing big brother. Pausing, he thought about her question seriously.

"Well, Dawn, I'm not an expert on relationships. When my last serious girlfriend left, it about did me in. I'd say it's probably a little of both. If the guy really likes you, he'll want to please you, be decent to you. If he's being an arse, I say just blow him off and find another guy. Life's too short. Besides, you're young, pretty and smart, there's goin' to be tons of guys that want to meet you."

“That's actually not half bad advice. Thanks.” She looked keenly at him, assessing his relaxed posture. She upped the ante a bit. “Buffy mentioned the floor tiling help and the thank you dinner last night.”

He looked away toward the water. “She needed the help and I wanted to....help.”

Dawn nodded “Yeah, that's what she said, too. You know, this is the first time she's asked for any.....help from any guy since Angel. She must really want .…help.”

Spike's eyes narrowed. “Is that so? Who is Angel?”

Dawn exhaled loudly. “Her ex husband and the reason she came back to Sunnydale, but that's her story to tell. I just wanted you to know that even though she seems a little reluctant, I'm sure she would respond to more....help. I can tell that she really, really likes you and in yet another boost to your ego, I think you're pretty okay, too.”

She stood up. “Well, gotta go. There's a boy band I want to see on MTV this afternoon. Thanks again for listening.” She handed him the questionnaire. “Drop it off at the office, whenever.” As she walked away, Spike lit another cigarette and stared at the water thoughtfully. A few moments later, he reopened the laptop.

Chapter 7-Walking on a Wire

She says days go by
I don't know why.
I'm walking on a wire.
I close my eyes and fly out of my mind
into the fire.
-Shawn Colvin
-Sunny Came Home

It took most of Monday morning to rip out the old wood on the porch and replace it with new timber. Spike and Buffy worked side by side easily, taking turns cutting the new planks to the correct size and nailing them to the supports.

Buffy had worn a pair of short shorts and a tank top with her work boots. Spike continually caught himself staring at her instead of working. When she bent over to pick up another plank, he couldn't help himself. He just had to stop and watch her. He was utterly incapable of pulling his eyes away. Amused at himself, he reached again for the hammer.

During a break, they reached into the cooler at the same time. Smiling, they each tried to offer the last bottle of water to the other.

“You take it. I'll go get another one.”

“No, I insist, you drink it.”

They ended up sharing the bottle, each taking turns surreptitiously watching the other.

The day had become hot and humid. The temperature kept climbing and the porch was on the sunniest side of the cottage. Spike finally stopped and pulled his sweat soaked shirt off and throwing it into the grass. When Buffy turned around she found herself confronted with a half naked, sweaty William. Guh. She tried to ask him a question, but couldn't seem to quite get her words out. She blushed and stammered. “Umm, could you, maybe, possibly, uh, hold this long plank for me?”

Spike looked at her quizzically, one eyebrow raised. “Sure pet, no problem.” He walked over and placed his hands on the plank so she could nail the support into the railing. With him standing close to her, she had a difficult time hammering the nail in straight.

By late afternoon, with the final plank nailed down, they declared work over for the day. Both of them were hot and tired. Spike suggested a swim and Buffy readily agreed. She offered to make some sandwiches and meet him on the beach.

As Spike walked back toward his cottage, he noticed the couple from the parking lot walking toward him. When they get closer, the man-Robin?- stopped to speak.

“Hey man, how's your vacation going? Faith and I keep saying we should stop and see if you'd like to hang out. It's a little too quiet here for us. We're planning on going to a bar someone told us about tonight. I think it's called The Bronze. Interested?”

Shaking his head, he replied, “No thanks, not much for bars these days and I already have plans for this evening.”

“That's too bad. Well, if you change your mind, let us know. We'll be here for another week or so.”

“Enjoy yourselves.”

As he walked away, Faith continued to stare after him. She watched him stroll toward the cottage. “We should stick around and see what his plans are for tonight. I bet he's going out with the blonde that owns this dump. That might be worthwhile.” She tugged at Robin's hand. “Come on, let's go back to the cottage and grab our stuff.”

*****
Spike was already in the water when Buffy arrived. She sat the picnic basket on a blanket, caught Spike's attention and pointed to the basket. He beckoned her out into the water. She removed her shirt and shorts, revealing a black bikini. Diving in, she swam strongly out to the sandbar where Spike was waiting.

Spike had discovered a sandbar located about fifty yards from shore which allowed a person to stand up. The water depth was only five feet, making it a good halfway point for swimming to and from shore. When Buffy stood, she was barely tall enough for the sandbar. Every wave pushing through in its rush to the shoreline broke over her head. After watching her sputter for the third time, Spike grinned and grabbed her hands, trying to help her stay afloat. When they touched they both sensed an almost surreal connection.

Buffy gasped and her hands tightened. She searched his face, questioning the sensation. Spike's eyes darkened. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. Shivering, she placed her arms around his shoulders. He pressed his lips to hers in a crushing kiss. They both moaned and pressed their bodies close. They stayed locked in their embrace even as waves crashed over them.

After several minutes, they reluctantly broke apart.

Spike spoke first. “I've wanted to do that since the first time I saw you in the doorway.”

Buffy looked into his eyes. “I think we need to talk about where this may be going. I haven't had good luck with relationships in the past and I'm not sure how I feel about this strong attraction happening between us.”

He acquiesced. “I think we need a chance to talk, too. I want you to know your own mind and I want a chance to tell you how I feel. Meanwhile if you need me to slow down, I'll understand completely.” He sought to show her that he understood and could act in accordance. He kissed her lightly and then made a deliberate show of stepping back.

Buffy felt relieved at William's immediate consideration for her feelings. He was giving her the breathing space she'd requested.

They slowly swam back to shore. Once there, they grabbed their towels and sat together on the blanket, eating their sandwiches in silence. Together they watched the sun as it dropped slowly into the water, this time in cinnamon hues.

Spike finished his meal, dropping the aluminum soda can in the basket. “I watched you the other night sitting on that boulder. You were a beautiful vision. I couldn't pull my eyes away.”

Buffy leaned against his shoulder. “I sit here almost every evening and think about all the people who are watching the same sunset. It makes me feel a little less alone.” She shifted to see his face in the dwindling light. “I want to take this inside where we can talk in a more comfortable setting. Once the sun goes down it gets so cold. Could we go to your cottage?”

He readily agreed, hoping that this would be a chance for her to really see him. Spike wanted her to realize that he was the man she really needed and wanted.

They picked up their possessions and walked back to Spike's cottage. Once inside the cottage, he turned on a table lamp; it cast a cozy glow around the room. His cell phone on the kitchen counter was beeping insistently. “Buffy, this sand is uncomfortable. You've got clothes with you. Why don't you take a quick shower while I check my phone messages? Then we can have our talk without interruption.”

She nodded her agreement and carried her clothes into the bathroom. In a moment, Spike heard the water falling in the shower. He sat on one of the wooden kitchen chairs and tried to concentrate on his messages while all he could really think about was Buffy just on the other side of the door naked in his shower.

Chapter 8- Trouble Me

Trouble me, disturb me with all your
care and worries
Trouble me on the days when
you feel spent
-10,000 Maniacs
- Trouble Me

Buffy was having a surreal moment. She was standing in William's shower, using his soap and shampoo and feeling like reality had taken a detour. She felt as though she'd dropped into some alternate universe like the crewmen always did in science fiction shows. I'm Alice and in a moment a white rabbit with a pocket watch will exclaim something about being late, open the door and let all the warm air out of the bathroom.

She shook her head trying to clear it. Or maybe I'm just scared out of my wits. This is happening so quickly. I've just got to remember William is not Angel, but I really have to go out there and explain. William needs to understand why I have these walls. He deserves it. I deserve it. Gathering her courage, she stepped out of the shower and dressed. She took a deep breath, feeling as though she really was about to step through the looking glass. Cautiously she walked into the living room.

Spike smiled at her and placed a cup of coffee in her hand. “This will help you warm up. I'll take a quick shower and then we can talk.” He thought with some amusement that it had better be a really cold shower.

He returned to find Buffy removing the towel wrapped around her long hair. Motioning her over to the couch, he took her hairbrush and began to work through the tangles.

Leaning over he murmured “You've the most beautiful hair. It's like sunshine. While I'm doing this luv, why don't you tell me whatever it is that you need to say?”

“I want to tell you about something in my past that will explain why I'm nervous about being with someone again.”

He touched her gently on the shoulder. “Buffy, you never need to be afraid of me. I could never hurt you. I started to fall for you that very first day, when I saw you standing in my doorway and you made that joke about the key. The past couple of days have merely added more layers to that original feeling.”

“I understand how you feel, because I'm starting to feel that way, too. But yes, I am petrified.”

Seeing her hesitation, Spike turned back to her hair hoping the touch would calm her.

“Please Buffy, just talk to me. Tell me whatever you feel is important.”

“I don't know if I've mentioned that I'm divorced. That's part of the reason for my reluctance. I just can't go through anything like that again.” Taking a deep breath she spoke haltingly. “I married Angel while we were still in college. He was a senior majoring in the theatre. I was a sophomore art major. We met when I volunteered to paint backdrops for extra credit. He was everything I wasn't: rich, talented and very eligible. It was flattering when he started paying attention to me, and I fell for him hard. When he proposed, I couldn't say yes fast enough.

After graduation he was offered a chance to work in a theatre production in New York City. It was off Broadway, but it was a leading role and a chance to make an impression and it could lead to something better. He had to take it. I wanted him to do it. I dropped out of college and we moved to New York.

Just before we moved, I found out I was pregnant. It was a happy surprise. I spent my days making a home for us and Angel dove into the play. The production was a hit.

It was like living in a fairy tale. I had the man I loved, who loved me, living in an incredible city with a much anticipated baby on the way.”

She made a small choking noise.

Spike's muscles tensed. He needed to reassure Buffy. Laying aside the brush, he placed his hand on her arm and squeezed lightly, before placing her hand in his. She took another deep breath, and continued.

“When I was three months pregnant, I had an ultrasound test done. They print a copy for the parents to keep. I hadn't visited the theatre in over a month because of severe morning sickness, so even though it was pouring rain, I decided to go over and have lunch with Angel and the rest of the cast.

I couldn't wait for Angel to see it. He was so disappointed about missing the appointment, but the leading lady had been out sick and they'd been using the understudy. Now that she was fit, they needed an extra rehearsal.

It took longer to get there because of the rain and lunch had already been called. I asked around and someone said Angel was in his dressing room. I went there to find him, and I found him on the couch having sex with Cordelia, the understudy.

I was so shocked and upset that I ran out of the theatre and just kept running. I ran right out into the street. A taxi hit me. ”

She was sobbing openly now so he gathered her in his arms and held her tightly. “I was in the hospital for almost two weeks. I lost the baby.

While I was still in the hospital, a dancer I knew from the production came to see me. She said Cordelia admitted to her that she and Angel had been involved since the second week we arrived in New York.

She also told her that Angel had gotten her pregnant, too. She bragged to the cast that when I had the baby, he was going to divorce me and marry her. Now that the baby wasn't an issue anymore, he was going to do it immediately.”

She took another deep breath. “My mom and Willow flew out to help. I refused to see Angel. While I was still in the hospital, I called an attorney and started divorce proceedings.

When I was discharged, they helped me pack my things and I came back here to Sunnydale. Three months later my mom got sick. When she died, Dawn and I moved here.”

She turned to Spike, tears coursing down her cheeks. “But the worse part of all? I think deep inside I knew I was running into that street.”

He held her late into the night while she cried, murmuring endearments and stroking her hair until she finally fell asleep. Spike realized that she would need time to learn how to trust again. He thought how ironic it was that he was trying to help her learn to trust again.

He had fallen deeply enough in love with her to attempt to push through his own pain. Wryly he though about a saying he'd once heard. It's like the blind leading the blind.

Now, he just needed to prove it to her. Because he planned to never let her go. With that realization Spike fell asleep.

To dream of his Aphrodite.

Chapter 9- Forget the World

If I lay here,
If I just lay here,
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?
-Snow Patrol
-Chasing Cars


Buffy awakened slowly and tried to remember why she was lying on her left side on an unfamiliar sleeping surface. There was a weight across her waist. There was another across her legs. Then she remembered. She was lying on the couch in William's cottage.

She opened her eyes all the way. His arm was wrapped around her with his leg across hers. They were spooned together tightly on the narrow couch. She quietly inched over so she could study the man beside her. His tousled blond curls had fallen across his eyes. Buffy felt that his incredible blue eyes were probably one of his best features. She loved how expressive they were, how they darkened when he kissed her.

She watched the early morning light play across the angular planes of his face and couldn't resist tracing her finger lightly across his sharp cheekbones, following the sunlight's path. He was still asleep; his deep, even breathing caused his bare chest to rise and fall steadily. With her eyes, she followed the light sprinkling of sun bleached hair until it disappeared into his faded shorts.

He's a beautiful man. Not just his body, but his soul. No one has made me feel like this, not even Angel.

She probed experimentally at the place in her heart that usually ached whenever she thought about New York. The usual sharp edged pain had dulled.

She realized last night's cathartic crying had eased the horror and grief. Coupled with the passing of time, the bitter hurt had diminished and been relegated to the past. It had been pushed aside by the kind and sensitive comfort given by the man sleeping at her side.

Now, she could finally look at the future again with a sense of hope, a future that she wanted to share with William. She suddenly realized she had fallen in love with him.

Her revelation caused her to sit up abruptly. She stared down at Spike. She suddenly needed to memorize the features of the man she now knew she could love with her entire heart.

Spike awoke slowly; a sleepy and confused look crossed his face. He noticed Buffy watching him and smiled tenderly. “Good morning luv.”

His eyes searched her face. “Are you alright? Did you get enough rest?” He reached up to gently stroke her cheek.

Buffy lowered her eyes. “I'm sure I look horrible. There's nothing like a crying binge to make a girl feel ugly, but I actually do feel much better.”

Spike shook his head and said softly, “It's impossible for you to look horrible. You could never be anything but beautiful.” Sitting up, he continued. “I'm glad that you're feeling better, although I'm sorry we slept on the couch. That was never my intention but I guess we were both so exhausted.”

Buffy smiled softly and searched Spike's eyes. “I feel like a huge weight has finally been lifted. I can breathe again. I confided my worse fears and you listened without judging me. William, you've helped me to understand myself. I've had a lot of pain in my life but I can finally move past it. Thank you for being here and for caring about me.”

She hugged him tightly. “I'm ready to spend as much time together as we can. I've realized that I want to be with you, and that I care deeply about you, too.”

Delighted with her response, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his lap for a kiss. “Buffy, I know we haven't known each other very long at all, but there is already such a strong connection between us. I'm sure it will only get stronger. I want to spend as much time as possible with you, too. I want to get to know you even better and there are things I need you to know about me, too. Things I need to tell you about my past.” He grimaced. “And some of them are neither nice nor pretty.”

She agreed. “I want to know all about you. Anything you want to tell me. We can't have any secrets between us. We'll make the time to do just that as soon as possible.”

She stood up. “Although right now I've got to go home and change clothes. Then I need to finish Willow's cottage. She emailed that she's arriving later this morning instead of tomorrow. I can't wait for my best friend to meet my boyfriend.”

He stood up and grinned. “I love hearing that I'm boyfriend material.” He raised an eyebrow and then suggestively looked her up and down. “Hmmm. That means that some day I might get the chance to execute my special plan.”

She looked amused. “And what type of plan might that be?”

He leered openly at her. “Oh, it's a plan of epic proportions.”

Buffy glanced down. “Epic proportions, huh?”

“Definitely.”

Her lips quirked. “Then I can't wait.”

******

By 11:00 Buffy sat in the office with Dawn. She glanced at the clock again. Something was wrong because time was standing absolutely still. Certain that it had been 11:00 o'clock for at least 20 minutes, she sighed. .

Buffy's best friend Willow was attending UC Los Angeles after being admitted to their prestigious graduate honors mathematics program. A talented theoretical mathematician she was already making a name for herself in the department. Buffy was very proud of her friend but missed her. Now she'd have a week to spend with her and Willow's girlfriend Tara.

Just as the clock crawled to 11:10, a tall, thin red haired woman stuck her head in the office. “Am I too late for lunch?”

Buffy and Dawn -who had been waiting a bit more patiently- both yelled “Willow!”

She grinned and came in for a hug. “I'm sorry, I'm kinda late, but Tara got held up.”

She put her arm around the shy, blonde woman waiting behind her. Tara smiled in greeting at the women behind the desk. “Hi, sorry I held everything up, but I got the chance to leave a couple days earlier, so, well, here we both are.”

Willow looked proudly at Buffy and Dawn. “Tara's being modest. Her project was so well received that out of the entire literature department, she was the only grad student allowed to skip finals.”

Buffy smiled widely. “That's okay, because, well, I've been busy actually meeting a guy.” She grabbed Willow excitedly by the arm. “I can't wait for you to meet William. He's wonderful.”

Willow smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. “Okay, so where is this boyfriendy guy? Who is he? What's he do for a living? Is he smart? Really cute? This best friend needs more information to formulate an opinion. Has there been any serious smoochies I should know about?”

Dawn, who had been listening smugly to the wonderful attributes of The New Boyfriend all morning, wagged her finger at Buffy. “She spent last night with him.”

Willow's mouth fell open. “You were going to say something about that exactly when?”

Buffy gave Dawn a look. “It's not like that. I told him the whole Angel story, got all weepy on his shoulder and we both fell asleep on the couch. He's incredibly thoughtful, caring, sweet, kind, smart and …”

Dawn interrupted. “Don't forget his hot body and that great car.”

Buffy looked askance at her again. “Yes, because those things are so much more important then his character.”

She looked thoughtful. “You know, I've never even asked him what he does for a living. I know he's good with tools. He helped me tile the floor here, but he's not in construction. He seems to have some money though; he's staying here for a month. He must have earned it some way, because his family isn't wealthy.”

Willow shrugged her shoulders. “It's all so new, but you'll have plenty of time to find out all of those details as your relationship progresses. That's half the fun, learning about each other.” She hugged her friend. “Oh Buffy, I'm just so happy for you. Why don't you show me to our cottage? You can tell me all about this great guy on the way.”

She picked up the luggage. “Then Dawnie can fill me in on what needs to be done while she's gone.”

Dawn looked at her watch. “Can I call Janice and see if she can come and pick me up a day earlier? Maybe Tara could stay here and watch for William. He called and offered to bring pizza for lunch.”

Tara spoke up. “Sure, I'll watch the desk until you guys get back.” She settled in the chair at the desk. She couldn't wait to meet the guy that had finally changed Buffy's outlook on life.

*****

The office door opened a few minutes later and a slim blond man balancing several pizza boxes entered, carefully placing the boxes on the counter. He straightened, noticed the pretty blonde stranger and smiled at her. “'Lo. I'm William Jamison. Which lovely lady are you, Tara or Willow?”

Tara's eyes widened and her mouth dropped, but she quickly recovered. “Hi. It's nice to meet you. I'm Tara, Willow's girlfriend. You must be Buffy's boyfriend?”

Tara couldn't believe it. She was sitting here in Buffy's office and Spike had just walked in and placed pizzas on the counter. William Jamison is Spike. He's Buffy's boyfriend? Wow. I wonder why he hasn't told her who he really is. Hmm, could be that whole constant drunken carousing thing or maybe the absolutely hundreds of girlfriends thing. Oh God, maybe he doesn't really care about her at all. There's just no way she could handle a fling right now.

Spike watched several different expressions flit across the blonde girl's face. After years in the public eye, he knew at least one of those expressions intimately. He realized instantly that Tara had recognized him. He made the decision to continue with the pretense, hoping that she really hadn't recognized him and that he was just mistaken.

He knew he needed to explain to Buffy before he 'outted' himself, especially to a complete stranger. Casually he replied, “Yeah, Buffy and I just started seeing each other.”

Hoping to change the subject quickly to a much more neutral topic, he pointed to the boxes on the counter. “I brought pizza for everybody's lunch.”

Dawn stepped back into the room and waved a hand in greeting. “Hi William. Oh good, I love Pepperoni.” She selected a slice, picked off a piece of the pepperoni and chewed it avidly.

Picking up a slice of mushroom pizza, Tara continued to study him. He's not going to explain? Hmmm, okay, I'll play along, but only because anyone who uses such beautiful imagery in their writing should get the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it's not my place to tell, at least right here and now.

With Dawn sitting there watching and listening to them, she said the only thing she could think of quickly. “It's really nice of you to buy lunch.” Standing up from the desk, she looked at him with an amused expression and held her pizza slice up. “I hope all of this wasn't too expensive.”

Spike looked down at the pizza boxes. “No it was fine. It gives me the chance to meet Buffy's friends.” He hesitated briefly. “Where is Buffy?”

“Buffy and Willow will be back soon. They took our luggage to the cottage.” I can't wait to see Willow's face when she sees you.

She watched Spike- William- lean against the counter and strive to appear nonchalant. When he nervously flipped the top of the pizza box open and then closed without taking anything out, Tara became even more amused. She decided to tweak him a tiny bit. “So, William, how long will you be here in Sunnydale?”

His mouth twitched at the emphasis placed on his real name. Now he knew Tara had recognized him. He already liked her, she was smart and it looked as though she really wasn't going to say anything. Yet. He continued the game.

Spike looked at the blonde, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, my reservation's for one month. I love the beach. Now that I've met Buffy, I guess it all depends.” On what she says when I tell her who I really am and that I've fallen in love with her.

He shrugged. “I have a very flexible schedule.” Not wanting to wait for the inevitable question of why he had such a flexible schedule, he smoothly changed the subject. “Buffy mentioned you were both in graduate school. What's your major?”

“Literature. I'm specializing in contemporary western writers.” She smiled widely. “Maybe you've read at least one of them yourself?”

He caught himself before he groaned out loud. He replied dryly. “I've been known to read a few.” He shot her an amused look. “Is Willow also an English major?”

Tara grinned. “No, she's in the math department.”

He snapped the pizza box open and closed again. “That's a tough subject. She's probably way too busy to really read anything other than formulas.”

Tara's eyes twinkled. “Oh no, Willow's very well read. She likes pretty much the same stuff I do. In fact, we both enjoy the same writer- Spike.” Gotcha!

At this point, his blue eyes sparkling at her response, Spike could only shake his head in defeat.

Dawn, busy eating the pizza, tried to follow the conversation, but something puzzled her. Why were Tara and William both so amused? Personally, Dawn hated literature and didn't think it was at all funny, much less hysterical.

“Hey, either of you guys going to eat more pizza? There's still a lot. Buffy and Willow won't eat all of this.”

Spike's shoulders twitched. “I just remembered that I need to make a transatlantic phone call while the timing's right. Tell Buffy that I'll phone her before I leave for the airport tonight.” He mentally chastised himself. Coward, you're going to have to meet Willow at some point, but maybe you can still save this.

Picking up the key for Rupert's cottage that Buffy had left on the counter, Spike turned back to Tara. Flashing a wide smile he declared, “Pet, it's been a real treat meeting you.”

His eyes sparkled. “Thanks for the interesting conversation. I'd very much like to get together again for another discussion.”

His expression sobered and Tara watched a silent plea enter his eyes. “Maybe I can offer some insight into at least one of those more mysterious writers.” He turned abruptly, opened the office door and walked out into the noon sunshine.

Tara sat down and thoughtfully munched her mushroom pizza.

When Willow and Buffy returned they were both disappointed that Spike wasn't there.

Tara watched Buffy closely, trying to interpret her feelings. She saw that Buffy was worried about him and that she cared a lot more than she would say to any of them. Tara decided she had to find a way to talk to Spike again. She needed to know that he wasn't planning to hurt Buffy. She was so fragile.

Tara also knew that she needed to tell Willow. She turned to her girlfriend. “Willow, since we're going to be filling in for Dawnie starting tomorrow, why don't we take some time now and go for a walk on the beach? Buffy, you won't mind if I borrow my girlfriend will you? We'll all get together later for dinner.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, of course not, I need to do some laundry and stuff anyway. I'll see you both around six for dinner. Its girl's night and I'm making my world famous chili.”

As soon as they left the office, Willow stopped abruptly on the path. “O.k. now what is this really about? Because you know I don't do the beach at noon. Redhead, remember?”

Tara looked around. “Let's go to our cottage and I'll explain.”

Chapter 10- School's Out

Well we got no class
And we got no principles
And we got no innocence
We can't even think of a word that rhymes
-Alice Cooper
- School's out

Willow Rosenberg was a bright and articulate woman. Always able to defend her position forcefully and logically during debates within the classroom setting; she also moderated her women's study group with aplomb. In her personal life, when extremely excited or flustered, Willow would cheerfully admit to babbling. When Tara completed repeating her conversation with Buffy's new boyfriend, Willow found herself in the rare position of having absolutely nothing to say. She had been completely and utterly stunned into silence.

Lying on her back on their bed, she rolled over and looked at Tara. She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Buffy's brand new boyfriend William is actually Spike, our favorite writer? The same Spike that you chose for your end of the semester project? That Spike?”

Seated in the chair next to the bed, Tara nodded in affirmation.

Willow continued. “The first man she's shown any interest in at all since Angel? The same man that I believe she's in love with?”

Tara nodded again.

“Who also has a reputation as the biggest drunk and womanizer in the entire literary world? Not to mention most other worlds?”

Tara shrugged. “Also rumored to have the worst case of writer's block ever. He hasn't produced anything new in almost two years.”

Willow stared at the ceiling and looked for answers. She mused aloud. “She doesn't even know any of this because he hasn't told her.”

She sat up abruptly, reached over and grabbed her purse. She looked at Tara and said grimly, “Let's go. I want to meet this guy.”

*****

Spike couldn't bring himself to lie to Tara and Dawn so he phoned England and talked to his brother and sister-in-law. They were thrilled that he was taking some time to regain his balance after the stint in rehab. They encouraged him to visit with them soon. After listening to cute baby exploits from overenthusiastic parents-she's already ahead of all the other babies--he hung up.

With nothing to do and several hours before he could leave for the airport, he sat down at the table and opened the laptop. The writing spark he felt after seeing Buffy the other night had become a raging inferno.

Although not sure that what he put down was actually worthwhile, Spike was overjoyed to be able to finally write again. It seemed he had found his muse once more. He had sorely missed the way writing always made him feel so calm and centered. Now, determined to see the book through to its conclusion, he was writing voraciously.

Writing this afternoon meant that he was stalling with regard to Buffy and he knew it. He hadn't seen her since early that morning when they had awakened together on his couch. Meeting Tara had only reminded him of all he needed to tell her about his personal life.

He was petrified that even though she had admitted to caring about him, she might still refuse to be with him when she discovered that he had deceived her. He had no contingency plan if she broke things off. He was extremely worried that her feelings weren't yet deep enough to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially with his past reputation.

After Buffy's confession last night and her declaration this morning, he knew that the longer he waited to tell her, the worse it would look.

There was also the added complication of her friends. Spike had no doubt that Willow would recognize him immediately and Tara would certainly comment to Buffy on who it was exactly that she was planning to date. He sighed. The explanation had to come from him, and not from someone else. Soon.

A knock at the door distracted him from his thoughts. He answered the door to find Tara, a slight smile on her face, standing on his porch. “I want to talk with you some more and….”

A thin redhead moved up beside her. “And introduce me. Hi, I'm Willow.” She reached in her bag and pulled out a book. “Will you autograph this for me Spike?”

He let out a bark of laughter and moved aside to let the women inside. He glanced at Willow and then back to Tara and drawled, “Well pet, I can certainly understand what you see in her.” He gestured toward the couch. “Why don't you ladies have a seat? I'll even play host. May I get you something to drink?”

Willow shook her head. “No thanks. It's a little early in the day for us.”

Spike dropped into an overstuffed chair across from the couch, slung his leg over the arm and replied dryly. “I meant lemonade or a soda. I haven't had anything except a couple of glasses of wine with Buffy at dinner since I left rehab two weeks ago and I'm determined to keep it that way.”

Willow blushed. “Oh, sorry, I didn't know.”

He gestured for her book. “There are a lot of things you don't know about me.”

Willow handed him the novel, watching him intently. “I really would like to get to know you better since you're seeing Buffy, so shall I call you Spike or do you suddenly prefer William?”

This time Spike had the grace to blush. “I guess the time for pretense is over, eh girls? You can call me Spike, everybody else I know does except for my old professor and my parents.” He looked down at the book. “Oh, it's Intermezzo Dreaming. You know, this is my least favorite book of them all.”

Willow and Tara both looked intrigued. Tara smiled at him. “I know the beginning of a story when I hear it. Why do you say that? It's probably one of your most lyrical works. Actually, I based an entire term paper on it.”

Spike grimaced. “I hope you got a passing grade.” Shrugging his shoulders, he looked down at his hands. “Okay, I guess I really do need to explain. I don't want you beautiful women to think I'm just being a ponce.”

He settled back against the chair and lit a cigarette. “It just has some bad memories attached to it. For one thing, it took almost three months to finish it. I got the flu and was bedridden for almost a month right in the middle of the book.”

He chuckled. “During the intermezzo you might say.” He took a drink of his lemonade. “Drusilla, my ex, kept trying to force feed me deli chicken soup for days. She couldn't cook and I was too sick to do anything for myself,except she never heated it.”

He looked down at his hands. “She just never cared enough to bother. Have you ever eaten cold congealed chicken soup? It's pretty disgusting, trust me on that point.” He sighed. “I'm pretty sure there aren't any recuperative powers in it, either.”

He looked over at the two women sitting on the couch. “I've always tried to please the women in my life. No matter what they did or thought about me in the end.” He smiled thinly. “You might say that I've always been a fool for love.”

Sitting up straighter he added. “And that's why you're here, isn't it? Because it's always about love and trust. You love your friend and need to decide whether you can trust me where Buffy's concerned.”

Tara smiled shyly at him and replied, “You asked for the chance to talk.”

Willow looked intently at Spike. “Buffy has been my closest friend since freshman year in high school. I have to know that you're not going to hurt her. I know she's told you about her past and you must realize that she's still very fragile. You're the first man she's even tried to be interested in for almost two years. Frankly, I'm worried, after all it's only been a few days since you two met. It didn't inspire a lot of confidence, either, when I discovered Buffy doesn't even know who you really are.”

He looked intently into her face. “When you walked in here, I offered you a drink and you immediately assumed something about me. I understand that, I have a reputation that precedes me everywhere I go. It's my fault and I won't make excuses. That's why when I came here I wanted a chance to leave Spike behind and just be William for awhile. I don't want to be that person anymore. Frankly, he's become exhausting. Then I met Buffy.”

He exhaled loudly. “Obviously I don't have to tell you how wonderful she is, but I do need to tell you that I saw it instantly. And she likes me just for me. No assumptions. In my world, that's a very rare quality.” He chuckled. “Actually, I don't even think she's read any of my stuff at all. It's refreshing.”

He turned back to Willow, his face earnest. “Willow, I promise you can trust me with Buffy. The relationship is very serious for me, and I want to be with her for a very long time. I just hope she feels the same way. For what it's worth, I never meant to really deceive her. I just needed to be free of Spike for a bit. I do plan to explain as soon as I can. I've already mentioned to her that I have some things to tell her.”

Willow was thinking about what he'd said. To give her a few minutes, he turned to Tara.

“Pet, I was serious about having that discussion about writers. So just who does the public university system believe to be study- worthy these days?” He smirked. “I mean, other than me of course.”

Tara laughed and launched into a lively discussion with Spike. She soon discovered that he was very well educated. He had read many of the various writers within her field and offered some knowledgeable and insightful opinions about their work.

A few moments later, Willow laughed when Spike made an amusing and pointed comment about a particular writer. A truce had been reached. Willow and Tara discovered that they both really liked Spike, both the man and the writer. They could see what Buffy had realized and understood about him. He was a unique man and he had some wonderful underlying qualities.

Willow finished her lemonade and set the glass down. “Spike, we're going to leave. We've plans to take a walk on the beach.”

She looked pointedly at him. “Buffy is going to be home alone the rest of the afternoon.” She picked up her book and stood up.

Spike accompanied them to the door. “Ladies, it's been a very enlightening afternoon. I truly enjoyed every moment.” He held the door for them. “Thanks.”

He looked at Willow once more. “I think I'll go and see Buffy.”

As they walked down the path to their own cottage, Willow flipped open her book and looked at the inscription Spike had penned.

To Willow,
Noble woman and lover of exquisite Tara.
You are indeed the queen of laissez-faire.
Plato said “The beginning is the most important part of the work.”
Here's to our beginning.
Your new friend,
Spike

Willow erupted into laughter. Laissez-faire indeed. Oh, he's perfect for her.

She turned to her perplexed girlfriend and handed her the book. “Tara, I really like him. He's going to be so good for Buffy.”

Chapter 11-The Taxman

Let me tell you how it will be
There's one for you, nineteen for me
'Cause I'm the taxman
yeah, the taxman.
-The Beatles
-Taxman


Ethan Rayne, Editor-in- Chief of the tabloid Whispers, sat at his desk eating takeout from the neighborhood Chinese restaurant. Since his third wife had walked out two months ago, this particular meal had become an unfortunate staple of his weekly diet.

Irreconcilable differences, my ass. The bitch always did read my magazine way too much.

Sitting so he couldn't see the cold Seattle rain beating against his office window, he glumly stabbed another piece of Kung Pao chicken. Dropping the plastic fork onto the cluttered desk, he pulled the frayed sleeves of his sweater -a gift from wife number one 25 years ago- over his bony wrists.

He wondered once again why his office didn't have better central heating or at the very least a decent space heater. For the tenth time that day he sourly cursed all bean counters everywhere, with special regard for those who worked for his board of directors.

His hatred of the weather was exacerbated by the fact that he was in his office late in the evening awaiting a phone call from his reporter.

A reporter, who along with her requested photographer, was currently assigned to sunny and warm southern California. A reporter who seemed hell bent on having an actual vacation on the company's dime. At least that's how it looked to Ethan. They had been there a week and still didn't have a story yet, only some vague rumors.

Ethan's readers enjoyed two things: smut and massive screw ups by famous people. Preferably at the same time. Not vague rumors. They liked specific dirt, preferably with lots and lots of glossy pictures. Right now he didn't have either one to offer.

Watching a cockroach scurry around on the floor in front of his desk, he eagerly reached in and searched the restaurant bag. God damn it, they forgot the fortune cookie again!

While thinking of ways to smear the Chinese restaurant-maybe a subtle story about the hazards of msg in Chinese food or several mysterious cat disappearances in the neighborhood?-the telephone rang shrilly.

He threw the bag, missed the garbage can by at least ten inches, and snatched the telephone up, growling. “This better be you Faith.”

Faith Lehan, standing outside the 7-11, wearing a tee shirt, short shorts and holding a Coors Lite, smirked. “How ya doin' Ethan? The weather channel said its 48 and raining in Seattle. I'll bet you're wearing that ratty old orange sweater right now.”

He muttered Bitch. Speaking louder, he asked, “Where the hell's my story? I paid damn good money to that source at the publishing company. Now I need you to get off your lazy ass and find out what's going on, preferably before the goddamn story is as old as the fuckin' sweater.”

Faith winced. She knew that tone of voice too well. “He's harder to get to then we thought. For one thing, he's not drinking, at least not enough to be able to pal around with him in a bar. I guess the rehab bullshit made a temporary impression.”

She offered a bone. “He's making the usual moves on a local bimbo. In fact, Robin's got some great shots of Spike with his tongue down her throat in the water. She shot well, too, a real hottie. A small blonde in an even smaller black bikini. Do you want him to messenger them?”

Ethan's eyes gleamed. Perfect. I knew he couldn't stay away from women. Spike likes giving his dick a workout as much as his smartass mouth. “Yeah, go ahead. I can use them as a teaser later for the story. Provided you get a damn story.”

“Don't worry. I'm working an angle now. I'm looking at the next day or two at the most.”

“That doesn't sound very positive. You need to quit fucking Robin and get the confirmation- preferably a quote and at least two more good photos. Then get your asses back here. I want you two back before your expenses. If I get the goddamn charge card bill before my story, you're both out on the street.”

Faith knew when to kiss ass. “No problem, Ethan. We'll have it really soon and it's gonna be great. Spike will be front page again, I promise.”

“If you weren't such a good reporter Faith, I'd be really pissed right now.”

“Love you too. And Ethan, wash the sweater.” She hung up.

Ethan leaned back in his chair. Idly, he watched the roach climb noisily into the take out bag. Kicking his feet up on the scarred desk, he wondered if he could get free fortune cookies if he showed the restaurant their negative article before it printed.

Damn it, he wanted those cookies. He didn't give a shit about the fortunes. Ethan knew they didn't matter at all, because no one's future is ever that promising.

******

Faith hung up the telephone. She swallowed the dregs from the can and threw it into the trash barrel in front of the store. Ethan would get his article. Spike's face would be staring out from the front page and her byline would be right underneath. After all, Faith wasn't one of Ethan's best reporters by accident. If she couldn't get the story one way, she'd get it another.

Leaning against their rental car, Robin watched her walk toward him. Visions of sexy Faith peeling those short shorts off for him flashed through his head. It's never gonna happen now. I know that look. Ethan just gave her hell and we've got to go to work. Damn.

Straightening up, he passed her the end of the leash he'd been holding.

“He wants the beach pics for a teaser.”

Robin nodded his understanding and looked down at the fluffy white dog panting at the end of the dog leash. “I can't believe you're going to try the dog idea again. It backfired last time. Remember what happened with that Bones guy? Don't you think Spike's a whole lot smarter than what's his name? He had us figured out right away. I almost lost a good lens runnin' through that damn hedge.”

She snickered. “David something, the guy with the forehead. Yeah, Spike's definitely way smarter, but he's too busy thinking with his dick right now instead of his brain. He's gone soft. Besides he's seen us enough now. That was part of the problem last time, no set up. I guarantee Spike won't be suspicious at all.”

Robin still looked unconvinced. “He's never seen us with a dog.”

Faith was undaunted. “Which is why I'm going to run into him today. We have to wind this up, Ethan's getting antsy. Come on, we need to run through a pet store on the way back and pick up some food. We'll need enough to last until we return the mutt to the pound in a couple days.

She sat the dog on the backseat. “Come on --.” She glanced over at Robin. “What's the dog's name again?”

He shrugged and looked down at the form from the dog pound. “Poofy.”

Chapter 12-What Do You Want From Me

What do you want from me?
You can have anything you want
You can drift, you can dream,
Even walk on water. Anything you want.
-Pink Floyd
-What Do You Want From Me?

Spike closed and locked the door to his cottage. After Willow and Tara left, he had taken a long shower and changed into clean clothes. The shower had been a delaying tactic. He was still nervous. Staring into the mirror, he tried giving himself a pep talk.

"God Spike, could you actually be any more of a ponce? You already know you've fallen head over heels in love with the girl and yet you're afraid to see her. That's just pathetic. Now get moving. Willow and Tara have set the stage, you just need to enter from stage left."

Summoning his courage, he started down the path. As he rounded the corner, he saw his neighbor standing there with a small white dog on a violently purple leash and smiled at her.

“'Lo Faith, how are you?” The dog strained, pulling on the leash. It tried to sniff his shoes. Spike discretely shuffled his feet. “I didn't realize you had a dog.”

“Hello William. Are you sure you haven't seen Poofy before? Why, I keep him with me almost constantly.” She looked down at the dog and said, “Don't I mommy's Poofy sugar pie?”

If Spike had been paying attention instead of warily watching the dog, he would have noticed the faint moue of distaste that passed across Faith's face. I just can't say Poofy with a straight face. What a fucking awful name!

“So, William, how's your vacation going so far? Are you having a good time?”

He smiled. “Yeah, it's been very nice.”

Faith shifted her feet and tugged the leash. “Robin and I will be leaving soon and we were hoping to have a drink with you before then. You know, vacationing ships in the night and all.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, pet. I'm going to pick up a friend at the airport in a couple hours. He wanted to visit the ocean, so he'll be renting one of the cottages from Buffy. I'll be busy with him for the next two days.” He smiled a bit too brightly. “It was nice meeting you and Robin, and, uh, Poofy.”

Faith shrugged. “Oh, that's too bad. Robin really wanted the chance to talk cars with you.” He had left a small opening and Faith sailed through. She pointed toward the ocean. “Buffy sure has a goldmine here, and she seems awfully nice. Don't you think so?”

Distracted, he watched Poofy. “Uh, I think she's bloody brilliant. She's managed to make a home for herself and her little sister and start a successful business at the same time.”

“Well, it's a beautiful piece of property, that's for sure.”

Spike looked out at the beach. “It is beautiful here. I'm enjoying the solitude.”

Faith grinned. “But not too much solitude, huh? I saw you working with Buffy the other day.”

Spike impatiently ran his hands through his hair. Okay, that's getting a little too personal. When is she going to stop talking? Surely the dog's ready for a nap on a special pillow or something by now.

He looked warily at Faith. “Yeah, I've been helping her a little, but Buffy and I are just good friends.” He smiled thinly. “Well, I've got to be going. Take care Faith, and tell Robin I'm sorry we didn't get to have that drink.”

Faith watched him stroll down the path toward the office. She muttered. “Yeah, with that body I'll bet she's a really good friend, huh, Spike?” She reached in her top pocket and switched off a small tape recorder.

She looked down at the little white dog. “Come on Poofy; let's go have a beer with Robin. If you're a good little shit, I might even share.” With a satisfied smile, she walked back to the cottage, pulling the small dog behind her.

****
Buffy was washing dishes, when she heard the knock on her door. Placing the dishtowel on the kitchen counter, she opened it to discover Spike standing there. He looked upset.

“William, are you alright?”

He winced at the question. “Buffy, those things I mentioned that I needed to tell you? Well, I'd like to tell you now if that's alright with you. I just don't want to wait any longer. You need to know about me and about my past.” I'm going to screw this up, I just know it.

She opened the door wider. “Of course.”

“This is the first thing you should know.” He handed her a hardcover book opened to the author's picture. “My real name is William although everyone knows me as Spike.” He grimaced. “Everyone except you, that is.”

When she didn't immediately speak, he took a breath and continued. “I'm a novelist, but that's not the main thing I need to try to explain.”

Buffy looked over at Spike. “I'm not sure I understand.”

Puzzled, she scanned the photo. It depicted the author, William,-no, Spike- wearing wire rimmed glasses, an Armani suit and a really sexy smirk. Buffy had heard his name before. Isn't he that drunk guy whose always in trouble? He's always on tv or in the newspapers and with a different girl on his arm every time.

Spike could tell she was confused. He paced back and forth across the room, finally stopping in front of her again. “I've had a serious drinking problem, among other things, for the past couple of years. I just got out of rehab. I still see a therapist but I don't drink like that anymore and I won't ever again.”

Now Buffy was openly staring at him, her eyes wide. She realized that Spike really did have some issues that she needed to hear about and she wondered if she really knew him at all.

Nervously, he began pacing again. He turned back to her. “I've had serious writer's block, mainly due to depression, but I'm learning how to be content with my life again. I feel like I've finally gotten back on track and I'm writing again. I don't know if it's any good, but that's not important. The important thing is that it's because of you.”

Spike wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. He was beginning to think he'd lost her.

He had only just found her and now she would leave him, just like everyone else. He appealed to her. “Buffy? I know this is a lot to take in all at once. Would you please say something, anything?”

She walked over and dropped onto the couch. Taking a deep breath, she looked into Spike's eyes. “We all have things to atone for in our past. You don't ever have to be afraid that I'll judge you for the things you did before.”

He let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding. “I've been so afraid that with my history you wouldn't want to see me any more, that you'd be afraid to take a chance on me.”

He walked over and knelt on the floor in front of her. Releasing a shuddering breath, he looked up into her face. “I just don't think I'm strong enough for that. I care about you too much.”

She reached down and stroked his hair. Softly, she spoke. “I want to give you the same consideration you gave me last night. I can help you let go of your pain. I know you're a good man. You have a kind and affectionate nature and I've seen it. I've seen you.

That's the important thing to me. I don't care what name you use, because that doesn't tell me who you are. Nothing anyone could say or write about you would ever make me think differently, because I care, too.”

She moved over, motioning him onto the couch next to her. He smiled in relief and squeezed in beside her. They kissed tenderly and when they finally parted, Spike placed his arm around her shoulders. Buffy rested her head against his chest and held onto his hand. He touched her face tenderly while she held his hand.

Sitting quietly, they savored their closeness. Finally everything was out in the open. There would never be any more secrets. Whatever happened between them now, it would never be caused by pain from the past. Whatever problems occurred in the future, they would work them out together.

Finally Buffy looked up and smiled. This smile was different, a bit more mischievous.

Her eyes twinkled.

Spike responded to her expression with a matching smile of his own. He lifted one eyebrow.

Buffy looked innocent. She ran her finger slowly down his chest. “Spike, there are a couple of things I do need to ask. Oh, and by the way, I think that's an incredibly sexy nickname. I like it. I want to hear sometime how you got it.”

“Sure, anytime you want, luv. I'll never keep any secrets from you, ever. What else is it you want to know?”

Her eyes sparkled and her smile became even brighter. “Are you any good at this writing thing? Because I gotta tell you, that photo in the book? It's really hot.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I'm pretty good, at least I was. Don't really know anymore. What was your other question?”

She looked him in the eye. “When we finally execute your special plan, will you wear the glasses?”

Spike laughed heartily and kissed her hard. Then he looked at her with the same smoldering expression as the book jacket. “Since I'm planning more than one execution of my plan, I'd say that's a definite possibility.”

She laughed until he kissed her breathless. Everything was going to be alright because they both cared enough to try.

Chapter 13-Searching for Perfection

Standing alone with no direction
How did I fall so far behind?
Why am I searching for perfection?
Knowing it's something I won't find.
-Linkin Park
-No Roads Left

Professor Emeritus Rupert Giles, previously of Cambridge University, currently residing in Bath, was still an imposing figure. He was tall, with wide shoulders, white hair at the temples and a small paunch cleverly hidden by a well cut suit. He strode through the airport cutting a swath through the travelers in the concourse as though they were freshmen lit majors.

“Ahh William, you look quite well. Olivia wished for me to embrace you. However I told her that I wanted to retain at least a shred of dignity and would merely extend my hand. However, upon seeing you, I seem to have changed my mind.” He grinned and clasped the smaller man in a tight bear hug.

Spike laughed. Since his talk with Buffy, he was in an extraordinarily good mood. And he loved the old man almost as much as his own father. “It's so good to see you, Professor. How are the fair Olivia and the grandkids? Anne emailed me that she had popped another one out. It sounds like you finally have a grandson?”

Rupert swelled with pride. Having married late in life, it was a wondrous miracle to him that he even had a family. “He's a wondrous addition to the family, although he's been given the unfortunate moniker of Rupert. His mother and grandmother pressed quite a few photographs on me, and made me promise to show you all of them. Oh, and William? You must not tell Olivia that I did as she asked. I absolutely have to keep up the appearance of being in charge or all is lost.” He winked.

Spike laughed harder.

After picking his friend up from the airport the two men came back to the cottage. Rupert produced some single malt whisky. They chose to sit on the cottage porch to enjoy the mild California evening. Their only illumination was a small shaded light and the stars overhead. The surf breaking over the rocks the only sound that could be heard.

The Professor sipped from his drink and cleared his throat. “I saw that unfortunate photo from your accident again. For some unknown reason, it was linked to an article I was researching on the internet.”

Spike shook his head and sighed. “Before that picture, I was known as a decent man and a fairly decent writer. Now I'll always be that insane drunk who ran a car into the Brevard Yacht Club swimming pool.”

He looked over at his oldest friend and mentor. “Lindsey came to that big discussion with me that Lilah set up, you know, the intervention thing.” He grimaced. “She called Mickey and Mickey called Lindsey and both of them hopped planes. Sybil was nine months pregnant and Lindsey was on a book tour in Maine. I was too far gone at that point to be embarrassed. Later I was so grateful that I had people who cared about me.”

Rupert took another sip. “How is Lindsey? Still penning those appalling pot boilers? When you were both students, I knew Lindsey would either write about murders or commit them. I couldn't really decide which.”

Spike snickered. “Those 'appalling pot boilers' have helped him purchase a fifteen room chateau in the south of France.”

Rupert sniffed. “Well, it is France.”

Spike laughed and wagged his finger at Rupert. “His latest book is set in an evil law firm. He told me that he actually went undercover for a couple weeks masquerading as a lawyer.”

He spoke thoughtfully. “Even as far back as when we were both students in your class at Cambridge, there was one thing I always admired about Lindsey. He's always known exactly who he is. He's never had a moment of self doubt in his entire life. That's a rare quality.”

The Professor disagreed. “Lindsey is a charming albeit shallow man. He has never understood that one must go through periods of self examination. It is important for growth of the soul. To quote Socrates, 'the unexamined life is not worth living'. However, you, William, have the rare dual gifts of both emotional depth and introspection. You live, learn and love to the very depths of your being. It's what has made you the finest writer I've had the pleasure to have taught in my lifetime. It's also your curse. That depth of feeling is why Drusilla could manipulate you so well and it's why you find yourself with your current problems.”

“You're probably right. It was because of Dru leaving me that I took up with Cecily.”

He lit another cigarette. “Are you ready to hear the real story, the one that's not circulating around the internet?”

The Professor could see that Spike was finally ready to discuss the pivotal moment that had caused his final fall and the beginning of his rehabilitation. He wanted to help his former protégé, if only by listening, so he poured another drink and settled back.

Spike began. “I had been dating Cecily Carrington, of the Connecticut and Hampton Beach Carringtons, for about two months.”

He glanced over at the professor and grinned. “Those aren't my words. That's how she always introduced herself. Anyway, that day Cecily and I attended a pool party with the usual clique. I was drunk before we even got there and Cecily had been snorting a lot of cocaine. Her ex showed up at the party. I didn't think anything about it, or maybe I just didn't care.”

He shrugged. “I didn't care about much at that point. Later that night, after the party, we were supposed to meet a bunch of her friends at the Yacht Club for dinner. On the way, she started talking about how her ex used to let her wear his super bowl ring when they were in bed. How she got off on it. How wonderful he made her feel. Then she started saying how courageous he was, like some superhero.

He grimaced. “He was a sodding football player, Rupert, not Ulysses and a has been football player with bad knees at that. Anyway she started saying how writers weren't brave, that she'd never heard of any courageous writers at all.”

He looked over at the older man, a wry smile on his face. “Like it's not frightening to look down at a blank screen.”

Spike lit a cigarette and continued. “I had been drinking for two days straight at that point and I was suddenly furious. I said something brilliant about football players not being smart enough to be scared.

She challenged me to do something courageous, to prove I was a man. Those were her words exactly. “Prove you're a man.” Said she didn't expect me to really do anything because I was beneath her and all her friends. I was nothing to her. I was just a bloody awful writer and a writer could never be a real man.

At that point, I finally blew up and yelled at her, telling her I was a man. At that moment I hated her. We turned into the parking lot at the Yacht Club.

I told her I'd show her who was a man alright. I was driving her expensive piece of crap car, so I pointed it right at the gate to the pool area and floored the accelerator. The car rammed the gate and sailed on through. When we hit the raised edge of the pool the car flipped and we landed upside down. Cecily wasn't wearing her seatbelt and she flew out of the car and into the water. I was trapped in the car, but I managed to escape and surface.”

He looked down at his hands. “Stupid bitch couldn't swim. Isn't that insane? Her family builds and races yachts and the stupid girl never learned to swim.

When I surfaced I saw Cecily floating facedown in the water. I was still really drunk and still furious and I refused to even try to help her. Some man jumped in and pulled her out. People were gathering and someone called 911. The paramedics showed up and they finally managed to revive her.

Cecily's parents were standing there. Her mum fainted and her da just kept staring at me. Rupert, I've never seen anyone look at me the way he did. They both thought she was dead. I did, too. At that point, I really didn't care. I had become a monster.”

Swallowing a drink of his scotch,Spike took a deep breath and continued. “The emergency call alerted the media. Of course, they arrived in time to capture everything. The police arrested me for drunk driving, attempted vehicular manslaughter, malicious mischief, property damage, all sorts of charges.

You saw the stories in the tabloids and on TV. Whispers alone ran front page stories about me for a month straight. Their photographer was the one that got the best picture. That's the money shot on the internet.

A truly memorable picture of me soaking wet and staggering drunk, with my hands cuffed behind my back, screaming at a reporter while being led to a patrol car. That particular view of my 'big bad' side was sold to all the international news outlets and of course all the magazines.”

He blanched. “Lilah bailed me out of jail. She had to call in Charles Gunn, a top attorney. He concocted that story about the stupid bet and managed to get everything except the drunk driving charge dropped.

I had to pay damages to the Yacht Club and make a 'donation'. I plea bargained the drunk driving charge. Mickey and Lindsey vouched for my character. First time offense I didn't get any jail time. Instead we had that lovely little confab and they dispatched me off to rehab to dry out and learn to atone for my sins. They chose the best place in the country. It was a little plush for my taste, but Dr. Walsh has a world wide reputation.”

He lit another cigarette. “She really did help me regain my sanity and tame the monster in me. Although I suspect I shall be visiting her for a long time to come.”

Spike sighed. “Cecily Carrington is a mean, self absorbed, shallow bitch and a bad lay.”

Rupert said softly “However….”

“Yeah, she's still a human being and in a drunken rage I almost killed her and I just didn't care, or even understand why it should really matter.”

Rupert placed his hand on the shoulder of the wounded man he loved like a son. The distress rolled from him in waves. “William, you know you must let go of this guilt, it's in the past. It's not in you to be that person anymore.”

“Dr. Walsh told me the same thing during therapy." Spike smiled briefly."She said I needed to make amends to myself. All the out of control drinking and craziness was a sort of nervous breakdown. That it was all because I wanted Dru and could never have her again. That's why I couldn't write. It was a way of punishing myself. I believe she was right. When Cecily said that I wasn't a man, it was Dru I was really hearing.”

Looking at him intently, Rupert asked “Have you seen Drusilla?”

“Yeah, actually I saw her just before I left for this trip. We ran into each other in a restaurant.”

“What did you feel?”

“Absolutely nothing, it was over.” He smiled wanly. “All it took for me to get over Drusilla Parker was the loss of my muse, a nearly tragic accident with the attendant bad publicity, serious legal issues, and two hundred thousand dollars worth of ongoing therapy.”

He ran his hand through his hair and shrugged. Putting a good face on, he said, “Come on Professor. All of this soul searching and chest bearing has given me quite the appetite. I'll make us some ham and cheese omelets.”

He looked closely at Rupert. “Olivia still has you on that low fat diet? Yeah? Well, it'll just be our little secret.”

He grinned and suddenly looked like the old William. “I mean, it's not the only secret this trip, what with the hugging and all.”

Chapter 14-Where's my Little Dog Gone

Oh where oh where has my little dog gone?
Oh where oh where can he be?
-Septimus Winner
=Where has my Little Dog Gone?

The following day Buffy awakened tired but happy. After Spike had left to pick up Professor Giles, she had finished making the chili. Tara and Willow had shown up a few minutes after that and they stayed up talking and gossiping until late in the night.

Buffy told Willow about Spike and what had happened when he visited earlier that day. Willow, secretly sighing with relief that everything had worked out, pretended she had met him briefly at the beach.

Tara talked glowingly about his work and promised to loan Buffy some of his novels to read. Both of them told Buffy how very much they liked him.

How very happy they were that she'd found someone.

She was starting to gather her things to clean the Wood's cottage when the telephone rang. A deep masculine drawl came across the telephone line. “'Lo luv. How are you this mornin'?”

Buffy suddenly felt much more awake. That voice sends warm shivers down my spine all the way to my toes.

“I'm fine although I miss you. I know your friend is here, but will I get to see you anytime soon?”

“That's why I'm calling you. I miss you terribly and I really want you to meet Rupert, so I'm inviting you and Willow and Tara to dinner some place nice tonight. I'm going to take Rupert walking on the beach this afternoon, so why don't we say around 7:00?”

“That sounds wonderful. I'll call Willow and Tara.”

“Great, I'll see you tonight, Pet.”

“Bye Spike.”

“Goodbye luv.”

Spike hung up and immediately dialed information. “Operator, I need the number for a limo service in Sunnydale, California. Could you ring that for me please?”

He smiled contentedly and put his feet up. He needed to take care of a few details for tonight and then he would write for a couple hours before meeting the professor.

Three hours later, Spike had completed another chapter. He was starting to feel that the book wasn't too awful. It didn't matter anyway. It just felt so good, so normal to finally be able to put something down regularly on paper.

His head was in the fridge, deciding between fruit juice and lemonade, when he heard a frantic knocking on his door.

Faith was standing on the porch, distress written across her face. “Sorry to bother you William. Have you seen Poofy? He broke his leash and disappeared and I'm really worried.”

He shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I haven't been out of the cottage all morning. Have you checked with Buffy?”

Faith began to cry. “Oh no, what am I going to do?”

Spike was exasperated and very perturbed. He absolutely hated to see a woman cry. “Well, perhaps I could help you look for him? I have a few minutes free.”

Faith immediately perked up. “Oh, that's so nice of you. Robin's out looking, too. Maybe you could check out in the parking lot and down the drive? He might have gone there since we've taken him for rides. I'll continue looking around the cottages.”

As soon as she was sure Spike headed toward the office, Faith climbed back up the stairs to his cottage. She pulled a small tool from her pocket and worked the old lock on the cottage door. When it opened, she motioned quickly to Robin waiting on the path.

He walked up, a worried look on his face. “Are you positive about this Faith? I'm not sure how I feel about going inside the man's private cottage. It's one thing to shoot when the subject's somewhere on public property and God knows, I've done that enough. I think this is kinda pushin' the envelope. Don't you?”

Faith practically pushed him inside. “Robin, don't grow a conscience now. We need this, or we're canned for sure. Just take the shots I told you to get and let me worry about the rest. Now come on, I don't know how long he's gonna continue being Sir Galahad. Spike's known to have a low boredom threshold.”

He finally acquiesced, slipping inside with his camera.

Once inside, Faith immediately went to Spike's laptop and tried booting it. When the screen opened immediately, she snorted. What an asshole, all that partying must have fried his brain. He doesn't even attempt to password protect his stuff.

She quickly found what she needed, produced a flash drive, downloaded the incomplete novel and put the drive in her pocket.

Climbing the stairs to the bedroom, she started searching the drawers and closet for anything interesting. Robin took the requested random shots downstairs. Upstairs, per Faith's request, he photographed Spike's unmade bed. He still felt uncomfortable, but Faith was in charge. It was her call.

They worked quickly and left unnoticed. Robin went back to their cabin to finish packing, while she walked to the front of the property.

Spike, after walking around the parking lot and the entire length of the long drive, gave up and started back to the cottage. Occasionally he stopped and reluctantly called Poofy's name.

What kind of bloody name is Poofy anyway? If she was British, she'd never have picked that one. No wonder the damn dog ran away.

Hearing his own name, he looked up and saw Faith. She called out to tell him that Robin had found the dog, so he waved and continued back to his cottage.

Faith headed into the office to tell Buffy she and Robin were checking out.

Spike walked into his cottage, noticed the laptop and frowned. Did I forget to turn my laptop off? Shrugging it off, he changed into swim trunks.

******
“I'm ready to enjoy the afternoon's outing, William. However I must ask you to take a photograph, because Olivia and Anne will insist on hard evidence.”

Spike looked fondly at him and grinned. “They'll never believe that I got you to do it, huh? Okay, when we get to the rocks, I'll shoot some pictures, but only if you agree to actually go into the water at some point.”

“As I believe the students would rejoin, 'it's a deal'.”

Spike and Rupert spent the greater portion of the afternoon walking along the edge of the water. He photographed the professor standing in front of Buffy's favorite boulder.He began to coax him into the water, enjoying the repartee built over years of friendship.

“We need some shots in the water, but first you'll have to remove those socks and sandals.”

The Professor snorted. “Hmm, I think not. I'm not comfortable with the tactile feeling of wet sand.”

Spike looking guileless, pointed at another spot. “Then stand there at the edge of the surf and I'll take some more pictures for Olivia. They'll be very nice with the sun at your back.”

Ten minutes later, the Professor appealed to Spike. “William, perhaps I should lay these wet shoes and socks upon this boulder so that they can dry while we swim?”

“Put them up a bit higher. You saw how strongly the surf rolled in.”

After they swam to the sandbar and back, the two men sat on the blanket Spike spread out on the warm sand. He handed over a beer from the small cooler. Tilting his head, he said, “I'm seeing someone new, Rupert, and I'm in love with her. I have hope that she loves me, too.”

The professor beamed at him. “That's wonderful news William. After Drusilla's heartlessness, Olivia and I feared you would remain loveless, afraid to commit so deeply again. She must be very special; you must tell me all about her.”

He grinned at the younger man. “Moreover, I am bound to give a complete report to Olivia, or be prepared for a fortnight of repose on the sofa.”

Spike laughed and launched into the story of how he and Buffy met.

Chapter 15- Mysterious Ways

Johnny take a walk with your sister the moon
Let her pale light in to fill up your room
You've been living underground. You've been
running from what you don't understand. Love.
-U2
-Mysterious Ways


Willow walked into Buffy's bedroom and gave her a questioning look. “Buffy, are you ready yet? It's almost seven.”

Buffy glanced back at her from the mirror where she was putting up her hair. Willow was wearing a sea foam tea length dress that looked charming with her dark red hair. While she helped Buffy finish her hair, Tara walked in wearing a light blue dress with cream piping on the bodice.

She noticed Buffy's dress and smiled. “Wait until Spike sees you. That's an incredible dress.”

Buffy was lovely. Wearing an orchid and cream silk slip dress, her tanned skin looked radiant. She had chosen to wear her blonde hair up to complement the dress, which had an open back almost to her waist.

Willow, hearing an unidentifiable noise, looked out the window. “Wow. Hey guys, Spike rented a limo for us.”

Buffy was beginning to feel like the princess in a Disney movie, except she couldn't think of any Disney Prince who was half as sexy as Spike. When he and Rupert arrived to escort the women to dinner, she couldn't help but lick her lips. He was dressed completely in black Armani; suit, shirt and tie. He looked as hot as the book jacket.

Spike introduced everyone and they prepared to leave. He draped a shawl across her shoulders and whispered, “you look stunning tonight.”

Buffy smiled and whispered in return. “You look pretty incredible yourself.”

Spike was having trouble keeping his hands away from Buffy. He took one look at her and became instantly hard and nearly speechless. After touching her bare back, his situation became much worse. He casually buttoned his suit coat while opening the door and motioned everyone to the long black limousine. “We need to get going, our reservation is for seven thirty.”

Once they were all settled in the limo, Willow asked “So Spike, did you finally decide on Malio's?”

Buffy's eyes widened. “How do you know about Malio's? That's a five star restaurant. We can't possibly get in there; the waiting list is weeks ahead.”

Rupert, who was having a wonderful time debating Tara on the merits of an obscure writer's latest essay, turned. His eyes twinkled and he winked at Spike.

Spike winked back at him and grinned. Willow, watching the exchange, giggled. She explained to her perplexed friend. “Buffy, Spike called me and asked for a restaurant suggestion. I knew we would never be able to book a table ourselves, so I suggested Malio's.”

Buffy still looked confused. “I still don't understand. How will we ever get in?”

Spike squeezed her hand. “Buffy, sweet, don't worry about that. They were happy to find us a bit of room. The only thing you have to worry about tonight is deciding which entrée to choose.”

When the limo pulled up to the exclusive restaurant, the group was immediately whisked to a private room. Buffy suddenly realized just how much influence Spike could wield. She really hadn't given any thought to his wealth or fame until now.

The private room was dimly lit with several crystal sconces. It had thick cream carpeting and dark russet tapestries that covered the walls. A large oak table, covered with snowy white linens, Limoge china and Steuben crystal dominated one end. At the opposite end double doors led to a private open patio. Music, piped in from the main dining room could be heard on the patio. Spike requested that the doors be propped open so that his guests could enjoy the music.

Wait staff hurried to comply with his requests. Several employees bustled around the group hanging up coats, handing out menus and filling water glasses. The Sommelier brought the wine list. Spike casually asked the professor to choose for them and leaned over to Buffy. Looking at her anxiously, he asked.” Are you alright pet? This isn't too overwhelming is it? I'm sorry we have to be holed up like this, but I want us to have a quiet dinner without any interruptions.”

Buffy smiled at him. “No, I'm having a wonderful time. I'm starting to understand why you wanted to have your vacation at Beachside. It must have been a relief just to be left alone for a change.”

“If we were sitting in the main dining room, even here at Malio's, I would have been interrupted several times by now. Usually I really don't mind, but sometimes I just want to be left alone and that's difficult to achieve without staying in a private room.”

After choosing the wines for dinner, Rupert joined in their conversation. “William came to visit my wife Olivia and myself on the occasion of my retirement from Cambridge. We thought everything would be fine. The party was private and at the estate of a colleague of mine. However as we were walking back to our automobile, a couple of William's more exuberant fans jumped from a hiding spot within the hedgerow, grabbed William and removed his shirt by force. We were able to make our escape before they could effectively remove his trousers.”

Spike grinned. “Olivia has a mean right hook.” He shook his head. “If they had gotten my pants off, I know the picture would have somehow made it onto the front page of the paper.”

The dinner was wonderful. Malio's lived up to their reputation and everyone was pleasantly full. While they were waiting for the dessert cart, Spike asked Buffy if she would dance with him.

He led her out onto the flagstone patio. It was a beautiful night; the light breeze stirred the treetops, while the full moon burnished everything in pale gold. Spike gathered Buffy into his arms and they began to softly sway in time to the slow melody drifting in from the main dining room.

“I just needed to have you in my arms. I couldn't wait another second.” He looked down at her, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You look so incredible in that dress. I have a confession. I wanted to dance so I that I had an excuse to touch you. I just can’t resist you.”

He placed his hand on the soft skin of her lower back and pulled her close. Buffy felt a strong tingling sensation where his hand stroked her bare back. They continued to dance and she became aware of the hardened bulge lightly pressed against her.

Spike groaned softly in her ear. “Buffy, can you feel what you're doing to me?”

Sighing, Buffy pressed herself against Spike's chest and looked up into his eyes. They were dark with desire.

He looked down at her and spoke, his voice hoarse. “It's killing me to sit next to you and not touch you. I don't want to be apart from you any longer.” He ran his finger across her arm lightly.

Shivering, she whispered. “I feel the same way. Ever since this afternoon, I can't stop thinking about you. You've been on my mind constantly.” Placing her hands on either side of his face, she reached up and kissed him deeply. They stood entwined together on the patio.

Finally Spike pulled back and let out a slow breath. “Buffy, as much as I want to stay here with you, we have to go back inside with the others.”

She softly agreed and straightened her wrinkled dress. Arms linked, they rejoined the other guests.

Willow noticed immediately that Buffy looked flushed and even a bit dazed. To help save her from any embarrassment, she announced a needed foray to the ladies room and left with Tara and Buffy in tow.

Spike sat down and turned to the professor. He snorted. “Why is it they always go in a pack to the ladies? We don't head for the gents in a group.”

Rupert chuckled. “That is a question for a far better scholar.” He smiled warmly. “William, I am enchanted by Ms. Summers. She is a charming woman and it's clear to me that she does truly care for you.”

“When she met me, she had absolutely no idea who I really was.” Spike smiled at his old friend. “Rupert, I'm finally writing again and it's all because of her. She has become my muse.”

“Then I shall look forward to your current endeavor as always.” Rupert suddenly looked very serious. “It's obvious that she doesn't understand the world you inhabit. She has been very sheltered. In what way do you see her fitting into your life?”

“I haven't felt this way before, not even with Dru. I want to marry her, Rupert.” He sighed. “I'm not sure how to handle it though, that's as far as I've thought it out.” He shrugged. “And I haven't asked the lady.” Or even told her that I love her.

“Then I'll wish you well. May I offer some words of advice, one old friend to another?”

“Of course Rupert, from you I expect and want nothing less.”

The Professor looked thoughtful. “Wait until the deed has become fait accompli before announcing it to the populace at large. Enlighten Lilah before anyone else. You know she'll be able to control the unneeded attention to a great degree. William, I fear that Ms. Summers will not be prepared for the notoriety. You must give this great consideration, for her sake as well as yours.”

Spike nodded slowly. “I will. Rupert? Thank you.”

The conversation shifted as the women returned and the dessert cart was wheeled into the room.

Finally Rupert pushed his chair back. “I don't know when I have enjoyed a wonderful meal with such beautiful dining companions” He nodded to Willow and Tara. “and such stimulating conversation.”

Spike smiled fondly at the older man. “I'm glad you had a good time, Professor.”

Looking around the table, he played host. “Does anyone want to do anything else, perhaps a club, or should we return to the cottages?”

Tara and Willow wanted to stroll on the beach and asked to be returned to Beachside. Rupert concurred. He wanted to phone Olivia with the information concerning his return trip to England the following day.

Spike raised an eyebrow and looked at Buffy. She glanced shyly at Spike before speaking to the group. “I think we'll just go back to the cottages, too.”

When the limo stopped in the parking lot, Willow and Tara were the first to say goodnight. They thanked Spike for their evening, told Buffy they'd see her tomorrow in the office and walked down the path hand in hand.

The professor was next. He stood next to the limo and looked down kindly at the young woman. “Ms. Summers, I will be leaving for the airport tomorrow morning and I would ask to speak with you privately for a moment. William, may I borrow this beautiful woman?”

“I need to take care of the limo driver, why don't you walk her to the door for me Rupert. Be careful, I have enough blackmail material already to last a lifetime.”

The professor just shook his head wryly and offered Buffy his arm. “May I escort you my dear?”

Buffy smiled up at the older man. She really liked Spike's friend, she could tell he was a good man. “Please.”

They walked down the path, and stopped at Buffy's cottage. The professor searched her face earnestly. “Ms. Summers, I am William's oldest friend,” he briefly looked amused, “in longevity as well as duration. So please allow an old man to say that it's wonderful to see William content again in his personal life.

He is also writing and that is something which I personally feared would never again occur and it's all because of you. He's the type of man who can only be truly content when able to care for someone deeply and unconditionally.

To be productive as a writer, he must also have his muse. I have some advice which I feel in this situation I must impart to you. Please do not misunderstand, for it is being given in sincerity, from my heart.”

He smiled briefly then became serious again. “To care for a man like William as deeply as you obviously do, and to allow him to care for you as deeply as he must, can be a burden at times. He lives in a ruthless and sometimes extremely treacherous world. It can become very unpleasant.

My advice to you would be that what ever happens within that realm never let it affect the feeling you have for him. For in the end, all any two people in this harsh and chaotic world really have is their feeling for each other.”

He kissed her hand and stepped away. “Ahh, I see William is arriving. The airport limo is picking me up at a most unfortunate hour, so I will bid you adieu.”

He turned to Spike. “Take care of her and yourself, Will. And please come for a visit to Bath soon. Alas, I feel another need to embrace you. However this time I shall endeavor to control the urge.”

Spike grabbed the old man in a tight hug. “I won't.”

He and Buffy stood and watched the professor as he strolled toward his cabin whistling slightly off key.

Buffy turned to him and said. “I really like him, Spike. He's a wonderful person and a good friend to you.” She reached for him. He took her hand, kissed the palm and led her inside.

Upstairs in her bedroom, Spike insisted on undressing her. Refusing to rush, he began removing the pins from her hair and watched the tresses cascade down her back.

He slid the zipper down on her dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. Buffy stepped out of it and stood in front of him dressed only in her black bra and panties. The moon cast a soft glow that washed over her. Spike stared at her and was reminded again of the first night he watched her as she sat on the beach. She was luminous.

“Buffy, you’re breathtaking.” he whispered in reverence. “You are a goddess, my goddess.”

He held out his hand and she stepped into his arms. Kissing him tenderly, she tugged his suit jacket from his shoulders and removed his shirt, running her hands along his chest.

Spike groaned, kicking off his shoes and socks. Wearing only his suit pants he tenderly caressed her face and shoulders, trailing small, wet kisses along her neck. Sitting down on the bed, he pulled her into his lap. They kissed deeply, finally allowing the passion to overwhelm them both.


*****

Later, lying in each other's arms, completely sated, they were still kissing and stroking each other lightly. Spike placed a tender kiss on her shoulder. “Luv, that was incredible. You are the most beautiful, sexiest woman in the world.”

Buffy looked at him, amused. “I'll bet you'll say that to anyone who'll let you execute your plan.”

Spike looked smug. “I'll have you know that the plan was executed brilliantly not once, but twice.”

Turning serious eyes to her, he said. “There's something important that I need to say. I should have said it sooner. God knows, I've wanted to tell you before now.”

Buffy looked into his face, a question in her eyes. “What is it sweetheart?”

“Buffy, I love you.” He pulled her close, his arms around her. “More deeply than I would have believed that I could ever love anyone. I'm your willing slave.”

She sighed deeply.

Spike, immediately concerned, added, “Luv, I don't mean to pressure you. I just wanted you to understand how I feel about you. I've been in love with you from the first moment I saw you.”

She was tracing the contours of his cheekbones with her fingers. “That's not why I was sighing.” He looked confused and started to say something. She placed her finger over his lips. “I was sighing because I wanted to be the first to say it.” She smiled into his eyes. “I love you, too.”

He looked at her adoringly. “Then you'll just have to be first to say it tomorrow, but right now, I need to do something.” He reached over to his shirt hanging on the chair and pulled out his glasses.

“I believe I promised you that I'd wear these tonight.” He stroked her breast lightly. “Ready to implement a third execution of our plan?”

Chapter 16- Fame

Fame makes a man take things over
Fame lets him loose, hard to swallow
Fame puts you there, where things are
hollow.
-David Bowie
Fame

Wesley Wyndham- Price, Wharton School of Business class of '92, had been employed as Lilah Morgan's executive assistant for the past 5 years. Soft spoken and possessing a keen intellect and quick wit, Wesley took care of Lilah with the tenacity of a truly gifted gatekeeper. He was privy to all her secrets and handled any assignment with alacrity.

She trusted and depended on him completely and he in turn regarded her as a brilliant mentor. She could always make the ruthless choice and he would always carry it out. They complemented each other perfectly.

When Wesley walked into her office late that evening and said “It's done,” Lilah waited for the elaboration that she knew would be forthcoming. Wesley always provided the small details she needed to do her job.

She motioned to the chair in front of her desk. He sat down and leaned forward. “I had Carol in HR fire her, but I'm afraid it's too late. Harmony has admitted to calling Ethan Rayne at Secrets almost immediately after finding that Spike was out of rehab. She even took the initiative to phone Dr. Walsh's clinic, pretend the call was from us, and check on Spike. A nurse over there told her he had been released and that he was leaving town. She refuses to admit how she found out his destination.”

Lila looked at Wesley. “Hmm, I would expect so; computer fraud is a prosecutable offense. Since Ethan knows everything, we have to assume that his reporters are with Spike.” Lilah looked grim. “God knows what they've dug up or twisted to their satisfaction.”

Wes sat up straight. “Shall I go and check on him? Find out what he's doing?”

Lilah grimaced at the thought of all the things a wayward Spike could possibly be doing and the potential headaches those same possibilities could cause. “Yes, I want you to go to Sunnydale. Leave in the morning and take Riley and Adam with you. You'll need bodyguards if word gets out that Spike's not in rehab any longer and word will get out. It's not like Ethan to keep the lid on any story for long.

In fact, don't you have a source at Secrets? Find out if Ethan's planning to run anything tomorrow or the next day and let me know before you leave.”

Wesley nodded and stood, already planning the steps he needed to take before boarding Lilah's jet.

Lilah held her hand up and looked at him intently. “Wes, keep him out of trouble. If he is writing-- and damn it, he better be-- bring him back here. We can protect him and the manuscript better here than in some backwater town.”

He nodded and closed the door softly.

Lilah reached over, opened her bottom desk drawer and pulled out a crystal decanter of Dewar's and a small glass. She poured herself a drink, leaned back in her chair and stared down at the bright lights of downtown L.A.

Why is it that a brilliant author like Spike always has to be such an equally brilliant pain in the ass? She took a long swallow and began to plan her battle strategy.

*****
Willow took one look at Buffy the next morning and grinned. Well, finally. She had noticed the looks between the two blonds and the little touches at the restaurant last night and in the limo on the way home.

In fact, she and Tara had decided to plead off from any late night clubbing on purpose. The UST had gotten so bad before the evening's end; they had almost decided to lock them up together in an unoccupied cottage.

“Professor Giles came in this morning and said goodbye.” He even noticed Spike stroking Buffy's leg in the limo. I saw him wink at Tara.

She turned innocently to Buffy. “So were you up late?” She shook her head. “Nah, I can't do this. Okay, I have eyes; you finally did the deed with Spike.” She smirked. “So spill already. I can't stand it.”

Buffy grinned at her best friend behind the counter. “He was wonderful. Willow? He told me he loved me last night.”

Willow smiled broadly. “He did? Well, it's about time. I see the way he looks at you. So what did you say?”

“I told him I was disappointed because I didn't get to say it first.”

Willow squealed and hugged her friend. “We'll talk some more later. I can't wait to tell Tara.” She walked back to sit behind the counter while Buffy went to the supply cabinet to pick up cleaning supplies to clean the Woods cottage. They'd checked out late yesterday.

Buffy walked through the back door as three men walked in the office from the front. Willow looked up brightly and prepared to welcome them to Beachside, only to quickly shut her mouth and frown instead.

Wow, those are some seriously large men. They sure don't look like they're on vacation. Did the President arrive and no one told me?

Two of the men, dressed in dark suits, sunglasses and earpieces, were tall and extremely muscular. They stood waiting quietly by the office door. The third man, equally tall, although more slender, and dressed more casually in tan slacks and a white polo shirt, walked to the desk and smiled down at Willow. “Excuse me. I'm looking for one of your guests. His name is William Jamison.”

Willow wasn't sure what to do. She started an internal debate. Well, he's asked for William, not Spike. So that must mean Spike knows him. Although Spike isn't the type to hang out with terrorists or mafia, so who are these guys anyway? Maybe they've found out that Spike's registered here and they're really media people. She mentally slapped herself. Think, Willow, and stop babbling.
Looking up at him, she hedged. “And you are..?”

“I am Wesley Wyndham- Price, a business acquaintance of Mr. Jamison.”

She breathed out a silent sigh of relief. Spike was still safe. “I'm just filling in for someone on vacation. Let me get the owner for you.” She looked at the two silent men standing stiffly by the door. “Um, make yourselves comfortable and I'll be right back.”

Hurrying through the back of the office, she almost ran over Tara walking around the corner. “Oh my God Willow, you almost made me drop these.” She was carrying a cut glass vase containing a dozen dark red roses.

Even on a mission Willow couldn't contain her curiosity. “They're exquisite, where did they come from?”

Tara grinned. “Have you seen Buffy yet? Did she and Spike finally do the deed?” Willow nodded a vigorous yes to both questions.

“Then we can assume these are from Spike. I just caught the florist. He was trying to find someone home at her cottage. There are five more arrangements just like this sitting outside the door. He sent her six dozen red roses this morning.”

Tara finally noticed Willow's agitation. “What's wrong?”

Willow quickly helped Tara move the roses out of the sun while she filled her in on her errand.

She found them both in the Woods' empty cottage. Buffy was cleaning the kitchen while Spike sprawled on the couch talking to her. Willow entered the cottage and he gave her a bright smile. “'Lo Willow. How's the office princess today?”

He noticed her expression and sat up abruptly. “What's the matter?”

Buffy heard him ask and walked out of the kitchen. “Is something wrong? Why aren't you in the office?”

“Tara's watching it. Spike, there's a man there asking for you, says he knows you. His name is Mr. Wyndham-Price and he has these two huge body builder type guys with him.”

Spike looked at Buffy. “I know him; he works for Lilah Morgan, my agent. If he's here, something's up.” He sighed. “Well luv, it looks like my world is about to intrude on yours.”

When Buffy and Spike walked into the office, Tara gave them a relieved smile. She walked over and whispered. “They're certainly not friendly. No one spoke at all while we were waiting for you. I still don't even know the other two guys' names.”

Spike glanced at the two men still standing silently by the door. “I do.”

He called out to Wesley, who was looking out the window with his back turned. “'Lo, Wes.”

Just as Wesley turned around, Buffy finally noticed all the roses dotted around the room.

She touched Spike's arm. “Are these from you? Oh Spike, they're absolutely beautiful.”

He whispered in her ear. “Not nearly as beautiful as you. I love you.”

She whispered “I love you, too.” She reached up and kissed him tenderly.

He pulled her close and kissed her harder.

Willow and Tara smiled at each other and then at the couple. They were locked in their embrace, oblivious to their surroundings.

Wesley, looking unsurprised, cleared his throat. “It's good to see you Sp-William.”

Spike reluctantly pulled away. “You can stop the pretense, Wes. This is my girlfriend Buffy Summers, and these are her close friends Tara Maclay and Willow Rosenberg. They all know who I am. So, why did Lilah send you all the way down here? Since you've brought Adam and Riley, I'm going out on a limb here and guess that it's not for the sun and sand.”

Wesley shook Buffy's hand and smiled at the other women. “It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Summers, ladies.” He turned back to Spike, suddenly serious. “You are correct. There was a leak in our office regarding your trip. It's been taken care of, but unfortunately Ethan Rayne had already been apprised of the situation.”

“Damn.”

Buffy looked questioningly at Spike. “Who's Ethan Rayne?”

Wesley answered. “He's the editor-in-chief of Secrets magazine. They've had an uncommon interest in Spike for the previous two years.”

Willow spoke up. “Uncommon interest? Ha. I'd say more like a vendetta.”

Buffy looked amused and Tara snickered.

Willow looked around. “What? I stand in line at the grocery store just like everybody else.”

Wesley looked pointedly at Spike. “Lilah believes they've had a reporter and a photographer on you since you first arrived.”

Spike blanched.

Buffy was confused. “The only two people I've had here was that cute couple from Cleveland. They didn't seem so bad. Wouldn't they need to display some sort of id or something?”

Willow shot her an apologetic look. “So, Mr. Wyndham-Price, if they were reporters, what should Spike do now?”

“Please call me Wesley. Lilah has requested that we return immediately to Los Angeles.”

Tara spoke for the first time. “Spike hasn't done anything wrong.” She gave him a shy smile. “He's not drinking and he's working again. There's nothing to write about now.”

Wesley looked pointedly at Buffy. “There is one thing.”

Turning back to Spike, he said, “Lilah has discovered that Ethan plans to run a series on you concentrating on your relationship history with various women. The working title is something like 'The Big Bad's Women', or some such nonsense. It follows several of your, ahem, more colorful relationships. We've been told it also contains recent information regarding Ms. Summers.”

Looking apologetically at Buffy, he continued. “My source mentioned several pictures which could prove embarrassing to Ms. Summers and yourself. They also supposedly have some excerpts from your most recent writing endeavors, which they plan to paraphrase. They will use brief excerpts, which they will then change enough to prevent us from challenging in court, of course. He will likely run a teaser in the next edition which is in one week.”

“That's why you brought Heckle and Jeckle.” He sighed. “So what does Lilah want me to do?”

“You need to pack and travel back to L.A. with me. It is imperative that you leave here and be safely ensconced somewhere before that edition hits the stands. It will be necessary to remain out of the public's eye. The article will probably be printed in the following issue, which would be three weeks from tomorrow.”

He looked over at the two women. “It would be to your advantage to leave as well.”

Willow thought out loud. “You want to leave a cold trail for the reporters, right? No one will know where anybody went.”

Buffy gasped. “Leave? Leave right now?”

Spike looked around the room. “Would you excuse us? Buffy and I need to have some time to ourselves. Willow, why don't you order lunch for everyone?”

He took Buffy's hand and gently pulled her away. “Come on luv, we need a sit-down.”

Willow tried to summon a smile. “So who here likes Chinese?”

Buffy was in shock. Things were starting to happen way too fast. Spike's leaving for L.A. now and I'm going to miss him so much. What am I going to do? What's going to happen to us?

Spike steered her into the office and gently kicked the door closed. He sat down with her on the old sofa. Taking her face in his hands, he tenderly looked into her eyes. She looks lost. Damn my life, it always becomes so complicated. And now Buffy's involved. I wanted to shield her at least for a while from all the crap.

“Buffy, luv, I know this is sudden. It's just not fair that we finally find each other and now everything seems different. But it's not really different. I still love you and you still love me.”

“Why do you have to go now? Can't you just hide here in my cottage or somewhere else around Sunnydale?”

He took a deep breath. “When that teaser runs, every magazine and newspaper in the country will send a reporter and a photographer here. They'll all be fighting each other, and me, trying to get quotes and pictures. They'll want to know about my rehab visit, my writing, about my life now. It will be an absolute circus.”

He looked at her solemnly. “They'll want things that I feel are extremely private printed on the front page and they'll want information about you, too.”

He hugged her tightly and then held her hand in both of his. “Which is the reason I want you to come with me to LA.”

Buffy was confused. “Spike, what are you talking about? I can't just leave for L.A. What about my business? And Dawn will be back in a couple days, what about her?”

“Buffy, I'm so sorry this has happened. Maybe if I'd been more vigilant, I could have figured out what was going on, but I didn't. Now I've got to face the consequences.”

He ran his fingers through his hair in the gesture Buffy found so endearing. “Unfortunately, you're stuck in this with me. When that article hits, this place will become a zoo. There will be reporters and photographers everywhere. They'll want you to answer very personal questions. If they've got pictures of us together, you won't be able to go anywhere without them following you. You really need the protection as much as I do.”

She started to shake her head.

Spike held her hands tighter. “Just hear me out a minute. You're going to need to close the business for a couple weeks. No one will be able to get in or out of here anyway, so your customers would be inconvenienced. Dawn can stay with us in LA or, if she'd rather, she can stay with a friend. I'm sorry this has happened, but now we need to think about the ramifications for everybody, not just ourselves. I'm sure you don't want Dawn involved, or Willow and Tara. They'll all be compromised if they stay here.”

Buffy considered his words carefully, trying to think. “Well, this was the soft opening. I don't actually have any customers scheduled until next month. I was going to use this time to finish the last couple cottages. And if we close, Tara and Willow can bring Dawn back to their place in L.A. or drop her off with us.”

“You can hire someone to finish while we're gone. I'll pay for it, since it's my fault all this is so screwed up.” He smiled, relieved that she was taking this so calmly. “I've been through this before, things will calm down after a couple weeks. You can stay at my place, it will be a little like a vacation. Personally, I believe you've worked so hard getting this place ready, you could use a couple weeks vacation before it really gets rolling.”

Buffy smiled her agreement. “I'll do it, on one condition.”

“What's the condition?”

“That you don't stop writing. Don't let me or any of this mess keep you from finishing your book.”

“Not a problem, it's almost finished now. But I've got a condition of my own. I want you to promise to use this time to relax, and not to worry.”

After lunch Buffy called Dawn on her cell phone. She elected to stay with Janice for a couple more weeks. Things began to move quickly. Tara and Willow walked back to their cottage to pack. Buffy checked the empty cottages, locking windows and doors.

She went home to pack some luggage and lock her own home. Wesley dispatched Riley and Adam to help the women with their luggage.

When everyone left to load luggage, Spike took the opportunity to speak privately with Wesley. He leaned against the side of the building. “So Wes, how bad is it really?”

Wesley grimaced. “It's bad, Spike. They've got pictures of you and Buffy kissing at the beach. They've got pictures inside your cottage, and some of you and her dancing somewhere. They can make up any story they want to go with them, you know how it works.”

Spike thought back over the previous few days. “There was a couple here and they tried to hang out with me, but they weren't really that pushy. I think I know when they probably got the pictures of the cottage; I noticed my laptop was turned on one day and they must have followed us to the restaurant last night.”

He put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I wasn't being particularly astute, was I? It's been so long; I guess I've forgotten how to play the game.” He looked ruefully at Wes. “Or maybe I just didn't care. Now, though, it matters to me very much.”

Wesley took the opening offered. “She's a lovely girl, although, I dare say, quite different than your usual choice. This will be quite difficult for her.”

He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Yeah, she is different. I think that's part of the reason I fell in love with her. It was wonderful to have someone love me for just me. She didn't have a clue about Spike, until I told her.”

Wesley hesitated. “There is one more thing, something about Ms. Summers. It's an incident involving a car accident in New York. It seems if this article garners enough attention, they will run a separate profile piece on Ms. Summers.”

“She's already told me all about that, it was perfectly innocent.”

Spike suddenly felt extremely angry. He dropped the cigarette, crushing it into the ground with a boot. “Wes, you have to help me protect her.”

“We'll do our best. Now, I must apprise Lilah of our departure.”

Chapter 17- Lead Me to Your Dark Roads

For once I want to be the car crash
Not always the traffic jam
Hit me hard enough to wake me
And lead me wild to your dark roads
-Snow Patrol
- Headlights on Dark Roads

Buffy sat in the back of the limo with Spike and Wesley while the two bodyguards-Riley and Adam-sat in the front with the driver. She stared out the darkened window as they left Sunnydale behind. - Huh, I'd never ridden in a limousine before last night and now I've ridden in two in twenty-four hours. - An image of the Queen of England entered her head. Amused, she tuned back into the conversation between Spike and Wesley.

Wes hung up the cell phone. “It's taken care of; a driver will pick up your car and bring it to you sometime tomorrow. How much more time do you need for the novel?”

“I've got maybe three chapters to go before a proof read, and I already have the title, so maybe two weeks or even less. It's flowing well.”

“That's wonderful Spike. Lilah is very excited. You'll have something to offer besides damage control. Now, do you want to return to your home up in the hills? Or perhaps the little place in Napa? You could even use the company's condo downtown.”

“I want to go home Wes. I work best there anyway.” He looked over at Buffy. “I want Buffy to see my home and meet Clem. We'll be fine, and it's already set up to keep out unwanted visitors.”

“That's fine. Lilah will insist that you retain Adam and Riley.”

“Of course.”

The limo came to a stop at the small private airfield on the edge of Sunnydale. Buffy noticed a sleek gray Gulf Stream on the tarmac. This would be her first ride in a private jet.

Wesley noticed Buffy staring at the plane. “I hope you don't mind small planes. It's not a charter. Lila owns this one and I can assure you it's in tip top condition.”

Buffy smiled at him. “I'm sure it will be fine.”

Another limo met them at the airport in Los Angeles and they were driven through the city and up into the mountains. After almost an hour, it stopped at an iron gate. The gate was the only noticeable opening within a ten foot high concrete perimeter wall. It had a camera and a small security box attached.

The limo driver punched in the code. The gate swung open to reveal a sweeping drive lined with Cypress trees. The long car pulled through the gate and the door closed with a heavy clang. The driver continued up the long winding drive and stopped under a portico at the front of a three story house. The outside, decorated with large ornamental stone, had mullioned windows set deep into the façade. A neatly trimmed boxwood hedge followed the front lines of the home.

Spike, Buffy and the bodyguards stepped out of the limo. Riley accompanied them into the house while the other bodyguard began a circuit of the perimeter.

Spike turned to the larger man. “We won't need you tonight, Riley. Have you been shown where your room is located?”

Riley pointed toward a small guest house. “Yes sir, we checked in late last night.”

While Spike talked with the guard, Buffy looked around. The front door opened into a large foyer tiled in pale peach Travertine tile. Two doors at either end led to other portions of the home. A maple staircase ascended to a second story.

Suddenly one of the doors swung open and a huge shaggy black dog with floppy ears bounded into the room. Barking and dancing around Spike, he skittered across the tile floor. A huge smile split Spike's face; he fell to his knees and hugged the dog. “Buffy, I want you to meet my best friend, Clem.”

As she bent down to pet the dog, he raised his head and gave her face a long sloppy lick. Buffy giggled. “Spike, he's adorable. I didn't know you had a dog.”

“Yeah, I've had him since he was a puppy. He's the only thing I really wanted to keep when Dru left.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on, I want you to see the best part of the house.”

The view from the panoramic window wall in the upstairs library was breathtaking. Buffy knew they were in the hills somewhere around LA, but she'd had no idea just how high up they actually were until she looked out at the wooded slope below them. There were a few lights twinkling among the miles of wild landscape seen through the glass. As she stood in front of the wall entranced, Spike slipped his arm around her waist.

“Spike, it's such a beautiful view.”

His eyes smoldered. “Not as beautiful as the view I see.” He gently took her hand. “Come on, luv, it's late. We can do the grand tour tomorrow, but right now there's one more thing I need to show you.”

“What is it?”

“Our bedroom.”
*****
The next few days passed uneventfully. They were so well matched that they quickly fell into a comfortable routine. Spike worked on his book during the morning hours. He was completing it much more quickly then he had anticipated and he was beginning to feel that the book might be a worthwhile endeavor after all. His writing had returned full force and he knew it was all because of his beautiful muse. Buffy had indeed saved him.

While Spike wrote in the library, Buffy took long leisurely walks with Clem around the property. The land around the house, situated on three acres of mostly shaded ground, afforded the perfect opportunity to enjoy the cooler air before the sun heated the surrounding hills. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so relaxed and fully rested. Spike had given her back her enthusiasm for life.

After a late lunch they would usually swim in the pool. They would play and laugh together all afternoon in the water, only to sink exhausted afterwards into chairs on the patio.

Spike brought out two glasses of lemonade and handed one to Buffy. “Here you go, luv.”

She smiled and drank deeply. “It tastes so good.”

He watched her as she tipped the glass up and finished the sweet drink. Spike couldn't help staring at her. It still seemed like a dream sometimes to see her here in his home. He sighed deeply to himself. If only it was really a dream. Then they could hide away here forever. Unfortunately, he knew real life was likely to intrude on them soon.

He came back from his musing to see Buffy looking at him amused. “What? Did you say something luv?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I asked if you were hungry yet?”

Cooking dinner together, they ate in the kitchen. Buffy had quickly realized that although he loved the location of his home, Spike really didn't use much of the space. He chose to spend the majority of his waking time in either the kitchen or the library.

The only other room that had started to see a lot of use was Spike's bedroom. The couple spent all of their evenings in bed. If they weren't making love, they were watching movies and eating popcorn. They were both utterly content for the first time in their lives.

Ten days after they had first arrived, the telephone rang early. Spike groaned and reached across Buffy, who was still asleep. “'Lo?”

“Spike, its Wes. The teaser's out. I've sent you a copy by messenger. They are planning to run the entire series beginning with their next issue. Lilah wants to come out this afternoon to talk strategy. She was also wondering how your book is going.”

“Ask her if she can come out early this evening instead. I've only got a bit more polishing on the book and she can take it with her.”

“Fine, she's available around seven o'clock.” He hung up.

Spike kissed Buffy's bare shoulder and got out of bed. “Luv, I've got to finish up. Lila's going to be out this evening for the manuscript.”

Buffy opened her eyes. “I'll get up and make us some coffee. Give me a few minutes to jump in the shower.”

Spike's eyes darkened picturing Buffy in the shower. “The book can wait a bit. Let me help you scrub that luscious back.”

After a rather lengthy and satisfying shower with Spike and his talented hands, Buffy went downstairs to make coffee. She took a cup up to Spike who was already typing resolutely on his laptop.

The day had clouded over and it was gloomy in the library. Trying not to disturb him and not in the mood to tramp the countryside in the drizzle, she decided to look around downstairs for something else to do until lunchtime.

Once downstairs she wandered into the main living area of the house. An ebony volcanic rock fireplace dominated an entire wall. Facing the fireplace were two pale gray couches. Clem was spread out in front of the cold fireplace on the Aubusson rug, snoring softly.

Buffy skirted the dog and the couches, and chose a book from the bookcase. It was Intermezzo Dreaming.Tara had raved about this particular novel. I can't believe Spike is such a part of my life and I still haven't had the chance to read anything that he's written. Curious, she settled down on a couch and opened to the first passage.

Three hours later, the grandfather clock in the foyer chimed one o'clock. Stretching, she closed the book, marveling at how fast the morning had gone.

He's an incredible writer, somewhere between novelist and poet. Buffy could see his heart in every passage. The book was beautifully and unbelievably lyrical. It was crafted in a way that was completely Spike. Vowing to read everything he'd ever written as soon as possible, she climbed the stairs to the library.

She peeked into the room and notice the laptop was closed. Spike was sitting quietly on the couch; his glasses perched on his nose, facing the windows.

She stepped lightly into the room, hesitant to disturb his solitude. He noticed her immediately and motioned her over to sit next to him. She settled down, leaning against his side. He placed his arm around her. Together they watched the steadily falling rain.

He finally spoke, his voice low and introspective. “All I've ever wanted for my life was to be able to earn a living writing and to have someone I could love completely. I thought I had that with Dru. When she left it almost destroyed me.”

Staring out the window, he continued. “What I felt for her pales in comparison to the love I feel for you. It runs so much deeper. It's unequaled; we're kindred spirits, soul mates. We're perfectly matched, you and I.

You've given me back the gift of writing. Your love has inspired and consumed me. Buffy, you're my best friend, lover and muse. If you were to walk out of my life, it would completely and utterly destroy me. There would be no way to ever recover from the devastation. I would cease to exist.”

He took her hands in his. “I love you Buffy Anne Summers. I want to marry you. I want you to stay with me and be my wife, my muse, and my goddess, forever.”

She looked into his beautiful blue eyes. The eyes of the man who had freed her and given her back the magic of love.

“William, I love you with all my heart. The answer is yes; of course I'll marry you.”

*******

When the intercom buzzed after dinner, Buffy was slightly nervous. She had yet to meet the famed Lilah Morgan. The woman held such a strong presence in Spike's life. She was the five star general in charge of Spike's army.

Spike noticed her nervous start while casting a glance at the intercom. “Buffy, don't be nervous. Lilah, despite rumors to the contrary-- which she probably started herself-- is entirely human. She's my agent, and although the best in the business, she's employed by me.” He snickered outright. “She's going to love you. After all, she's getting paid to.”

Buffy shot an annoyed look at his smirk and smacked his shoulder. He had made her feel better and as long as Spike loved her nothing else mattered. Lilah was only human, after all, or at least Buffy fervently hoped so.

They had just reached the foyer, when the door swept open. A tall dark haired woman wearing a full length sable coat breezed in, followed by Wesley and another man in a shocking lime green suit.

“Spike, I hear the book is complete? That's such good news.” She kissed his cheek and stepped immediately over to Buffy and held out her hand. Lilah towered over her by a good six inches. “You must be Ms. Summers. I've heard wonderful things about you from Spike and Wesley.” She smiled conspiratorially at Buffy and winked. “We girls shall have to get together later and dish about our boy. Please call me Lilah.”

Buffy found herself smiling back. “It's really nice to finally meet you Lilah.”

Lilah turned back to Spike. “Spike, you remember Lorne, don't you?”

“You're the publicist we used last time, right? It's nice to see you again.”

Lilah nodded again, satisfied that everyone was going to play nice. “Come on, boys,” she looked at Buffy and smiled, “and girls. We need to sit down and have a serious discussion, but as always, first things first. Spike, where's my scotch being held hostage in this big old barn these days?”

Lilah turned out to be a brilliant general who knew exactly how to deploy her troops. She got everyone settled quickly and they discussed the upcoming magazine articles, with the inevitable bad publicity and what they could do to counteract it before Spike's book was published.

They were all thinking of different strategies to contain the bad publicity, when Spike looked over at Buffy and raised an eyebrow. She smiled an agreement.

Lilah, who always noticed all communication and every nuance in a room, merely hid her smile and waited patiently to see what the blond couple wanted to tell her.

Spike cleared his throat. “Lilah, there's been a development that you need to be aware of, in case this changes anything.”

She looked at him and smiled. “What might that be?”

Spike rose and stood next to Buffy's chair, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Buffy and I are engaged. I asked her this afternoon to marry me and she's accepted.”

Lilah beamed at the couple. “As your friend, I couldn't be happier and as your agent, I say what perfect timing. You've just given Lorne something fabulous to work with."

She turned to her assistant. "Wes, see if you can scrounge up some decent champagne in Spike's wine cellar.”

She looked around at everyone. “I want to toast Spike and Buffy. Because not only are we celebrating the upcoming nuptials, but I've just thought of a way to keep Ethan from publishing those articles and help out Spike's book at the same time.”

While Wesley left to dig up some champagne, Spike took Buffy's hand in his. “Lilah, please excuse us briefly.”

Deep in conversation with Lorne, Lila waved them away.

He took her back upstairs to the library. Pulling her inside, he kissed her. Turning to the desk, he reached inside, pulled out a heavy box and placed it in her hands.

Buffy opened the box and looked inside. It was the completed manuscript.

“I wanted you to be the first to see it, before Lilah.” He smiled shyly.

“Open it and read the dedication.”

She sat down in the nearby chair and turned the pages until she found it.

To Buffy
My Goddess. My Aphrodite.
I was lost and now I'm found.
This one's all yours, as am I.

Back downstairs again in the living room, Wesley poured everyone a glass of Crystal as Spike handed his latest novel to Lilah.

She smiled at him. “So, scribe, what's the title of this one?”

Spike looked at Buffy. “Aphrodite at Water's Edge.”

They toasted to Buffy and Spike's happiness and then to the new novel. After everyone settled down again, Lilah explained her idea to the group and asked for a consensus. They all agreed. Wesley pulled out his cell phone to make the appointment.

Chapter 18- Money

Money, it's a gas
Grab that cash with both hands and
Make a stash
-Pink Floyd
- Money

Ethan's office door opened and his secretary Lily poked her head in. “Sir, Ms. Morgan is here.” He nodded to her as the door opened wider and Lilah swept into the room smiling radiantly. “Ethan, My God, how long has it been?”

“Lilah cut the crap. It's not like we travel in the same damn social circles. In fact, you're a bit out of your mien, aren't you?” His eyes narrowed speculatively as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

Lilah sat down gingerly, frowning slightly at the unidentifiable stains on the seat cushions.

Sweeping a pile of papers out of the way, he barked into the intercom. “Lily, hold my calls.”

Turning back to Lilah, Ethan smiled sourly. “So, Lilah, you wouldn't be down here with us mere mortals if it wasn't important. I have to assume that someone on my staff must have leaked my Spike expose.” He sighed. “You know it's really hard to get good help these days.”

Lilah looked at him through hooded eyes, her manicured hand picking an infinitesimal piece of lint from her Fendi bag. “To get good help, first you must be a good boss.” She smiled thinly. “That's a difficult thing to fake.”

Ethan leaned back in his chair. “Speaking of faking it how is Wesley these days? Still fucking secretaries for you?”

Lilah chuckled. “As much as I love fencing with you Ethan, I really must return to L.A. later today, and my plane is waiting.” She sighed dramatically. “You just wouldn't believe the cost of jet fuel these days. It's absolutely appalling.”

Ethan suddenly felt like a mouse venturing from its hole completely blind and having no clue where the cat could be waiting. He grimaced. “What the hell do you really want Lilah?”

She leaned forward intently. “I know you're planning to run a front page series on Spike. I also know it's going to be about his previous and current personal relationships.”

Ethan laughed harshly, “That's a damn polite way of putting it, considering that it's Spike. His 'relationships' could fill the grand canyon. So what? We're a fucking tabloid, best in the business, but still, it's what we do.” He smirked. “Spike always did know a thing or two about fucking.”

Lilah sat up straighter. “Ethan, you know Spike, you've met him before. He's basically a good man who's had a rotten couple years. Artists are like that, they're temperamental; they tend to go off the deep end occasionally.”

She waved her hand in the air. “I know, I baby sit a lot of them. Spike's the best writer of the past decade; he's entitled to a fall occasionally. You know he just got out of rehab; he's clean and sticking with it. He's fallen in love with a really decent girl. Hell, Wesley's smitten, so that's saying a lot for her. As you know,” Lilah smiled tightly, “he's writing again. A lot of ugly publicity could screw him up permanently. I'm asking you, professional to professional, to leave him alone. I'll owe you one.” She sat back gingerly against the chair.

Ethan shook his head. “No way, Lilah. You know better than that. Spike's really popular with our readers. He's got that perfect mix of raw sex appeal and brains that make all the women go crazy. You know my demographic; eighty percent of my readership are fucking women.” He smiled a toothy smile. “And they all wish they were fucking Spike.”

He laughed. “If they can't fuck him, the next best thing is reading about him. They think they need to know every detail about his life. I can't pass it up. Our advertisers would barbecue me over a hellfire if I passed on a Spike story and another rag picked it up.”

He looked sour. “Any fucking story with that perfect face on the front sells through the roof.”

Lilah's throaty laugh sounded again. “Well, it was worth a shot. At least I got you to admit that any Spike story sells whether good or bad.”

She smiled the first genuine smile since she'd arrived. “Now let me tell you about my real offer.” Opening the Fendi, she pulled out two travel cups and a silver flask. “While you're listening to my proposition, how about having a drink with me?”

The scotch was very good and the offer even better. Lilah offered Secrets an exclusive insider view of the upcoming marriage between Buffy Summers and well known novelist Spike. They would have sole ownership, aside from the participants' own personal shots, of any pictures before and during the wedding ceremony. They would be given personal interviews with the participants in exchange for killing any current stories concerning Spike, Buffy or his upcoming book.

The agreement also required that Secrets would not print negative publicity about any past drinking or previous relationships. The magazine would wait for the actual wedding date and not leak any information beforehand or the agreement was immediately void. Lilah's office would be able to read the articles before they went to print to allow for any needed changes or corrections.

Ethan jumped at the chance for the exclusive. He knew weddings sold even better than smut. Visions of a brand new space heater ran through his head, not to mention a nice fat bonus.

Because everyone loves a fucking happy ending. Hell you never know, maybe Spike will get a divorce and I can use these pictures a second time, or even a third.

Lilah stood up to leave, but paused at the door. “Oh, and Ethan?”

He looked up from his hastily scribbled notes. “What is it Lilah?”

Her voice hardened. “The reporter that orchestrated the burglary of Spike's cottage? Not to be on the guest list. Understood?”

He quickly nodded his agreement. He went back to his work, already deeply involved in outlining the series of articles and thinking about placement of the many glossy pictures Robin would shoot. This series had the potential to place the magazine on another footing entirely within the publishing world. Visions of other celebrity weddings ran through his head.

Once on board her plane, Lilah toed off her heels, poured another drink and smiled smugly to herself. Mission accomplished.

She pulled out a galley copy of Spike's new book, found her bookmarked page and began to read. An hour later, she poured another drink, this one celebratory. He's done it again. This is the best one he's ever written.

She silently toasted Spike. Here's to the greatest writer I have ever had the pleasure of reading. She swallowed another drink. And here's to a writer and his agent who are both going to be much richer when this comes out in print. She laughed happily.
-------------------------------------
Epilogue

Two months later

Cold late night so long ago
When I was not so strong you know.
A pretty man came to me.
Never seen eyes so blue.
Come on home girl, he said with a smile
I cast my spell of love on you.
-Heart
-Magic Man
(Reprise)

Robin shifted and shot another picture of the blond couple standing close together as they exchanged their wedding vows.

He smiled and clicked the shutter again. He especially loved his job when he got the chance to capture on film something as romantic as this beach ceremony.

Every picture he shot displayed the deep love obviously shared between the two.

The bride had been gently escorted by the groom's longtime friend, a very distinguished older gentleman. He made a mental note to remind his new partner Fred to correctly spell his name.

The bride's sister was maid of honor, and her two best friends were attendants. Robin considered it an exceptional treat to photograph such breathtaking women.

Everyone in the wedding party is just so damn pretty; these pictures will be amazing, even sexy, with everyone barefoot and the women in those filmy skirts and halter tops.

Robin appreciated the male aesthetic, too. All the men look incredibly hot, too. Especially Spike, wearing that tux and barefooted.

He frowned. We need to lose the dog for at least a couple more shots. Oh well, I can always crop him.

It was a lucky bonus for the magazine when the handsome best man, having just arrived the previous night from France, turned out to be another well known novelist.

Robin finished loading the final roll of film. He shot the couple one last time, using the fading pink tinged sky as the backdrop. The ceremony ended just as the darkened, sapphire ocean completely swallowed the last of the evening sunlight.

The groom held his bride in his arms and kissed her deeply.

The few guests at the intimate, informal wedding were invited to a buffet in a large white tent that had been erected for the occasion. Slowly, walking in twos and threes, they strolled toward the tent. The clink of glass and the beginning strains of a string quartet could be heard.

Down at the water's edge, as evening faded into night, the bride and groom-now husband and wife- continued to kiss.

The End