Buffy sat at her cluttered desk, her bottom lip clenched between her teeth as she tried to decide what came next on her busy agenda. She started working at the Sunnydale Center for Autism Spectrum Disorders when it opened a year ago. Countless qualified candidates had applied for the position, and Buffy considered it an honor to have been selected from among such an elite group. Buffy's main job was to liaise with the families for ninety days after discharge to ensure the children's transition back into day-to-day living went as smoothly as possible. She scheduled appointments with therapists and psychiatrists and called the parents once a week to check in, to make sure things were running smoothly and to offer any help or advice



She was just about to place such a call when her cell phone rang, and she rummaged through the stacks of paper work on her desk until she finally found it.





"Hi, Mom." Buffy wondered why her mother was calling. Joyce had mentioned she and Anne were going to have a late lunch and do some shopping.




"Buffy—are you sitting down?" Buffy could tell by Joyce's tone something wasn't right





"Yes, I'm sitting down. What's going on? Where are you? I'll be right there." Buffy's stomach dropped as dread settled over her. She grabbed her purse and hurried down the hall toward her supervisor's office. Benny happened to be in the hallway when, in her haste, she nearly ran into him





"Whoa. Where's the fire?" He frowned as if he could see her apparent distress.





"It's Anne. She had a heart attack. Mom just called." Buffy frantically dug through her purse searching for her car keys. "It doesn't look good. I gotta go."





Benny put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Go on. Call me if you need anything."





"I will. Thanks. I'll have my cell phone.





She turned and hurried down the hall toward the bank of elevators.



When she arrived at her car, her hands were shaking so badly it took her a moment to get the keys in the ignition. Surely, this was not happening. She took deep, calming breaths and tried to tell herself everything would be fine. She didn't know what she would do if she lost Anne. She said a silent prayer for her as she drove.







Buffy arrived at the hospital, thankfully finding a parking space in the emergency room lot. As soon as she walked through the sliding glass doors, her mother embraced her. Buffy felt a twinge of guilt pass through her. In some ways, Anne felt more like a mother to her than Joyce did.










"Oh, honey, I'm so glad you're here! She's asking for you."







Buffy held her mother tighter. "Is it that bad? What happened?"







Joyce took a step back and brushed Buffy's hair from her face.







"Yes, it's bad. The doctor says there's irreparable damage. I went over this afternoon to pick her up for lunch, and she was complaining of chest pains. She was sweating and clammy and just didn't look right. She asked me to call an ambulance. You know how bad it must have been for her to have asked me to do that. You really need to go to her, Buffy. She's been asking for you. I've called William and he's on his way."





This made Buffy's heart lurch within her chest; she didn't want to hear his name much less see him. "Where is she?







"Through the double doors, third door on your left." Joyce hugged her once more. "Be brave for her, sweetie."







As Buffy walked mindlessly down the hall, a lump had formed in her throat, and she tried desperately not to cry. She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt, took a deep cleansing breath and opened the door.







She thought she'd prepared herself, but the sight before her nearly broke her in two. The once vibrant, passionate director of nurses lay in a hospital bed. Her color was gray and her breathing labored. She looked so fragile and old beyond her sixty-six years.







She was sleeping, so Buffy slid a chair next to her bedside and took her hand in hers, noting how old they looked in comparison. She'd never thought of Anne's age. Anne was just Anne, whom she'd known since she was a child. Anne meant so much to her. She had been there when she needed her most. Buffy couldn't imagine being without her. The mere thought of it brought tears to her eyes.







Anne squeezed her hand, and Buffy looked up with tear-filled eyes. Anne gave her a weak smile and reached out to her. Buffy leaned over and hugged her.







"I came as soon as I heard. I'm so sorry. Can I get you anything? "







Sitting back down, Buffy covered her mouth to stifle a sob. Buffy felt helpless and a bit useless. She wondered if this was how her mother had felt all those years ago when her father was dying.







Anne shook her head. "I'm so glad you're here, darling."







"Of course I'm here. Anne, where else would I be? You've always been there for me, especially when I was a child."







Buffy thought about all times she'd slept over at Anne's house when her dad was in the hospital, how she would wake in the night crying and Anne would be there to comfort her.







"You gave me your love and support and treated me like family. You mean the world to me. I'll never be able to repay the kindness you've shown me. I'm gonna stay right here until you're better. "

'





"All right, we've got a lot of ground to cover and I don't know how much time I have, so listen well. I have loved you as though you were my own daughter for the last twenty-four years. It's been a pleasure to see you become such a beautiful, successful person inside and out." Anne paused for moment to catch her breath. "When you were a child, I often wished you were my own. As you became an adult, I was proud to call you my friend. There's one thing I need you to do for me. Please." Anne's tone was loving, but her voice was weak.









"Anything," Buffy said, the word barely audible between sobs.







"I know my William hurt you before he went away to college. He was young and foolish. In my opinion, he acted like a bloody arse!" There was the fiery Anne. Buffy smiled at her choice words. "I want you to be there for him when I'm gone. He's going to be lost, not knowing what to do or where to go. I do have my affairs in order, but there are other things he shouldn't face alone. Promise me you'll be with him through this."







Buffy leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Anne. I'll do anything you need me to do, but I'm not so sure Spike is going to want my help. I haven't spoken to him in eleven years. He probably wants nothing to do with me."







"He's going to need someone, and I know he cares for you. Please, Buffy, at least offer him comfort."









Those were her final words. Her hand went limp in Buffy's, and the monitor flat lined.









Buffy heard someone outside the door yell. "Call a Code!"







Several nurses rushed into the room. One of them tried to guide Buffy out, but she was hesitant to leave.







Another nurse came and said, "I'm sorry, miss, but you're going to have to go."









However, she stood firm. Tears blurred her vision, but Buffy couldn't take her eyes off the heart monitor. She stood in the doorway watching as they diligently tried to revive Anne's lifeless body, administering CPR and using the defibrillator. The nurses were too busy with their task to worry with Buffy. She heard the monitors beeping and one of the nurses calling for the paddles; the room was a flurry of motion and organized chaos. Buffy felt numb and disbelief tore through her as she heard one of them call the time of death. She slumped down in the hallway, her head between her knees, trying to absorb the shock.









Anne was gone.

Spike Jameson loved his job as an associate professor of English; he'd studied long and hard to get there. Having just finished his lecture on the works of Oscar Wilde, he began to put away his notes and gather his things, just as his cell vibrated. He quickly rummaged through his satchel to answer it.

"Hi, Mum. Oh, sorry…Joyce? I saw the name and thought it was Mum." He felt suddenly lightheaded, and his heart fell to his stomach.

"William, you need to stay calm. I have bad news. I'm afraid your mother's had a heart attack." Joyce's voice was calm and controlled.

"Jesus! Is she okay? May speak with her?" Spike was becoming more frantic by the moment.

"She's at the hospital, and the doctors are with her now. I'm afraid I don't have any more information. I'll call you and let you speak with her the first moment she's able. I promise you, William. She's in very good hands, but I do think it would be good if you came.

"Joyce, promise me the minute you have any news you'll call; I need to speak to Mum. I have to hear her voice. I'm going right now to arrange a flight, and Joyce, thank you for being with her. Goodbye."

Spike stood there for a brief moment and took a deep breath, not knowing what to do next. His bloody world had just tilted on its axis.

He hurried to his office and booked himself on the first flight out to Los Angeles. He would have enough time to run by his apartment and gather his things and make it to LaGuardia on time. He stood on unsteady legs and walked down the hall to the office of the English department chair, Rupert Giles. The door was cracked, but he knocked softly before entering.

"Um, Giles…I'm afraid I've gotten a bit of bad news from home. My Mum's had a heart attack." Spike voice was raw with emotion.

"My God, man!" Giles jumped up and rushed out from behind his desk. "Is she all right? You have to go as soon as possible. I'm so sorry. Have you been able to speak with her? Do you know her condition?"

Spike could clearly see the concern his fellow colleague and friend had for him.

"The quickest flight I could get leaves in three hours. I don't have any further information. All I know is I need to go to her." Spike fidgeted with the nameplate on Giles' desk.

"Of course, Spike. You know your classes will be covered. Giles set his hand on Spike's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. Family is the most important thing. Go home and gather your things. Take all the time you need. Keep me abreast of the situation, and do call if you need me. I truly am terribly sorry." Giles hung his head as if he didn't know what else to say.

"Thanks mate. I'll call you when I can."

Spike hurried out the door before his emotions got the better of him.

Grabbing a cab, he headed toward his apartment. Once inside, Spike closed his eyes and took deep calming breaths, trying to assure himself things were going to be fine. Modern medicine could do amazing things these days, but he still had a niggling fear in the back of his mind that things didn't always work out as one hoped.

When he arrived at his apartment, Spike's hands were shaking, making it hard to fit the key in the lock. Finally unlocking the door, he went into the bedroom and began to collect his things, grabbing his suitcase from underneath the bed.

He had just seen her over the Christmas holidays. She was the same old mum: loving, kind, generous, but with a bit of spark in her as well. He talked to her every week, and she never mentioned a thing about feeling unwell. Going into the bathroom to gather his toiletries, he thought about her and their relationship. They were as close as any mother and son could be, but he wished now he'd gone home over spring break instead of staying in the city. Why hadn't he? He no longer remembered.

The shrill ring of his cell phone broke him from his reverie.

"Hello?"

"William…"

"Oh, Joyce, sorry, I was hoping you would be Mum." Spike's heart clenched.

"William, honey, I'm afraid the news isn't good. The doctor says there's been irreparable damage to her heart, but they're not sure how extensive the damage is yet. She's stable for now, but…William you need to get here as soon as you can."

Spike wiped away the tears spilling down his cheeks. "Can she talk to me?"

Joyce tried to be as collected as possible. "She can talk, but only short while. I'll give her the phone."

Spike felt as though he was going to be sick. He was terrified. This might be the final time he spoke to his mum, and there were so many things he wanted to say. "I'll get into LA around six o'clock, which should put me in Sunnydale by nine at the latest. Call me the minute anything changes."

"William?" Anne's voice sounded faint and breathless.

"Mum," Spike said.

"William, how are you, darling?"

It pained him to hear her sound distressed, but at the same time, he was also relieved to hear her voice. He thought it was so like his Mum to be asking how he was when she was the one lying-in after having a heart attack. "I'm fine, Mum. You're the one to be worried about. I need you to get better."

"William, dear, I don't think I'm going to get any better. I'm sorry. There are some things I need to tell you." "I may be gone by the time-"

"Mum, please don't talk that way. I'll be there this evening. I'm packing my things this minute."

"Son, you're not listening to me. You've been the best son a mother could ask for. You've had your moments like all of us do, but I couldn't have wished for better. I'm so proud of the man you've become. I think the two of us did pretty well on our own, don't you?" Anne sighed and made a wheezing sound that made Spike stifle a sob.

"Yes, mum, I think we did a bloody fine job on our own. You're the best mum anyone could have asked for. Who else's mum could be so kind and loving, yet still have given old Mr. Spencer hell over a tenth of point on my 12th grade English final to make sure I was valedictorian."

They both chuckled at this memory.

"I did what I had to do. You deserved it, but now I need you to listen. I have my affairs in order. All the papers are in the sideboard in the dining room in the top left drawer. I want you to do one very important thing for me."

Spike could tell she was getting weaker, and they didn't have much longer.

"Anything you want, Mum. I love you more than anything, just ask it, and I'll do it." Spike's voice trembled from his crying.

"I want you to ask for forgiveness from Buffy. I know what happened before you left for college, and I think you need to do this for both your sakes."

Spike's heart constricted. He had no idea his mum had any knowledge of what had happened between him and Buffy. Yet he made his promise, and he wouldn't go back on it. The only question was how to apologize to someone who wanted nothing to do with you?

"William, my love, I'm getting a bit tired. I'm going to have to go. Just know that I love you, and I'm proud to call you my son."

Anne's breathing seemed more labored now, so Spike knew he should let her rest.

Unchecked tears were falling down his cheeks. "I love you, Mum. I'll see you soon."

Spike clicked off the phone and fell to the floor sobbing.

Buffy had never been so glad to be in the sanctuary of her own home. She dropped her keys on the kitchen table and her purse in one of the chairs. Staring her in the face on the kitchen counter was the English tea service Anne had given her as a housewarming gift six months ago. Anne had been so proud of her for being able to purchase her own home. She'd been planning to have Anne over for tea and scones tomorrow afternoon. She'd even special ordered Anne's favorite tea, blue sapphire, an English afternoon tea. The sight of the tea service made her nauseous. Joyce had tried to get her to eat something at the hospital or go out with her to a restaurant, but Buffy just wanted to be alone. Alone to process the events of this horrible day and to figure out how in the world she was going to honor Anne's last request. The latter made her heart race with anxiety.





Buffy walked down the hall, to the bathroom, heart still pounding. She shed her clothes in a pile on the floor before turning on the taps, when the water was a hot as she could stand. She pulled the lever and stepped under the pelting spray, hoping it would wash away some of her helplessness. In a daze, Buffy washed her hair and body, trying to cleanse herself of the smell of the hospital. She stood under the spray until it ran cold. Shivering, she pulled back the curtain and reached for a towel. She toweled off vigorously, warming herself from the cold water.





Buffy went through her nightly rituals as if on autopilot, with the exception of applying extra eye gel to decrease the puffiness around her eyes. She went to her bedroom, quickly put on her pajamas, then got into bed and curled up under the covers, willing sleep to come. She was physically and mentally exhausted. A chill resonated through her, all the way to her bones, so deep that no number of blankets could warm. One of the most important people in her life was gone. She'd lost her father at such a young age, and she hadn't able to comprehend the loss until she was much older, but this was somehow different, even more painful.





She wondered if her mother had been able to contact Spike and if he still went by that name, now that he was an associate professor. Though Buffy hadn't spoken to him, Anne mentioned him and his accomplishments from time to time. Buffy knew they were still very close, and she heard the pride in Anne's voice whenever she spoke of him. Spike came home every holiday, though Buffy managed to avoid him almost completely. There was the rare occasion when she'd been unaware he was there and had to be in the same room with him for a moment or two, but she'd never spoken directly to him, not once in eleven years. Now, she was supposed to be there for him at a time in his life when he needed someone most. They were virtual strangers. How was this ever going to work? She found herself angry with Anne for making her promise such a thing. Didn't she know how painful this was going to be for her?





Buffy snorted. Right, painful for her. What about Anne? How could she even think of denying Anne her dying wish because of her own stupid fears? And What about Spike? The pain of losing his mother ground her own selfish feelings to dust.





Exhaustion soon won out over thinking, and Buffy fell into a fitful sleep.





She awoke the next morning with a pounding headache. For a brief moment, she thought maybe it had all been a nightmare, but the lingering nausea and puffy lids from all her crying soon convinced her otherwise. She went into the bathroom to get some ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet and gasped when she saw her rat's nest bedhead. That's what happens when you go to bed with a wet head, she thought. She took two pills and brushed her hair. It was Saturday, her day off, so she came back into the bedroom and dressed in a jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers. She needed to call her mom and see what was going on.





Buffy ran a hand through her hair as she punched in the numbers on her cordless phone.





"Hello?" Joyce sounded tired, as if she'd just woken up.





"Hey, Mom," said Buffy, pacing the length of the couch. "Were you able to get in touch with Spike last night?"





"I spoke with him just after his plane landed last night. Oh, Buffy, he sounded completely devastated."





Hearing this gave Buffy pause. She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. "Do you know anything about the arrangements?"





"No, I think William will be handling all of that."





"All right." Buffy hesitated a moment before she was able to get the words out. "Anne asked a strange request of me. She…she asked me to comfort him. I'm kinda at a loss as to how to do that."





There was an awkward silence on the other end of the line. Buffy's heartbeat was so rapid she thought she could almost hear it as she waited for her mother to reply.





"Well, dear, I'm sure she had her reasons. You'll just do the best you can. I'm sure he hasn't had anything to eat. You could stop by Thompson's bakery and pick up some of those scones that Anne adored. Maybe he'll need some help with the arrangements as well."





Buffy almost dropped the phone when she heard her mom's suggestion. The mere thought of seeing him made her want to run back to bed and hide like a scared child. "I'll think about it. I have to go, Mom. Let me know if you hear anything."





She hung up the phone, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. Telling herself it was like ripping off a band-aid. Buffy grabbed her purse and keys and headed out the door.





When Spike first awoke, he felt disoriented until reality came crashing down like a brick wall. He was in his old room, and his mum was dead. She wouldn't be downstairs making tea and breakfast. He wouldn't kiss her good morning or joke with her about a possible new romance she might have. He was alone in the house where he grew up.





He'd gotten in late last night and found the key under the pot of geraniums by the front door. Silence was the only thing to greet him. The room was in a bit of disarray. He imagined it was from when the paramedics had come, but forced those images out of his brain. He didn't want to think about it. He opened the liquor cabinet and grabbed a half-full bottle of Jameson and sat down in one the chairs, thinking, Sod the glass! He drank and cried, the tears running unchecked down his cheeks until the bottle was empty. The rest of the night was a blur, and somehow he'd ended up on top of his bed still wearing his clothes and shoes.





His head hurt like a bitch. He jumped up and quickly ran for the bathroom, barely making to the toilet before throwing up. Getting drunk hadn't been such a smart idea, especially since he hadn't eaten anything all day. He stood to rinse his mouth out in the sink before searching for some ibuprofen. No such luck. He slowly made his way downstairs to get his things and took a quick look in the kitchen for something for his head. Everywhere he saw reminders of Anne. The kettle on the stove, the teacup in the sink—Spike wondered how he was ever going to get through this alone.





He found what he needed and took them with some water, then gathered his things and he went upstairs to shower.





After his shower, he stared into the mirror, not recognizing the stranger looking back at him. His eyes were bloodshot and the lids were puffy. Finishing up in the bathroom, he bid farewell to the face in the mirror and went downstairs to rummage through the cupboards in search of something fill the void in his stomach. He knew he would have to go through his mum's affairs this morning, but he wasn't ready to do that.





The doorbell rang, and he wondered who would be coming over without calling. He knew people wanted to know things, but right now, he just wanted to be alone. The doorbell rang again.





"Bloody hell!"





He flung open the door, ready to lay into the nosy git who couldn't mind their own business, only to stop and stare in utter astonishment. If someone told him she'd be standing outside his door right now, he'd have bet his last dollar against it. Spike's heart beat wildly in his chest, and he felt a lump the size of a boulder swell in his throat.





Buffy Summers stood in the doorway holding a box from Thompson's. She seemed to find her shoes very interesting. She barely met his gaze when he opened the door.





"Buffy? What are you doing here? Sorry, I mean come in."

Buffy stepped into the foyer and kept her eyes on the stairway behind Spike, anything to keep from looking directly at him. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other.



"Thank you… I thought you might be hungry. I brought some scones from Thompson's."



Her hands were trembling, so he quickly took the box from her. He was having a hard time believing his eyes. "Um, thanks for the scones. Actually, I was just looking for something to eat."



"Have you had coffee or tea? If not, I could make some," Buffy said, hoping he had something else to do, and she could have some time alone in the kitchen to collect her thoughts.



"No, I haven't had any caffeine this morning. Whatever you want is fine with me." He turned and headed to the kitchen with Buffy right behind him. She didn't know what else to do. It was awkward to be here talking with him after all these years.



Spike went immediately to the cupboard and finding only tea, he said, "I guess we're having tea. Would you get the plates and cups? I'll put the kettle on."



It was strange to be in his Mum's kitchen with her not there. It somehow felt wrong, even though he'd lived there most of his life. He realized with a pang of sadness, she would never be there again.



The scene in the kitchen was one of regular domesticity. Spike was busy readying the tea for the pot and getting the sugar bowl. Buffy was looking in the fridge for cream, jams, lemon curd, and crème fraiche. Clanging around in the silverware drawer for spoons and knives, Spike found everything they needed. From an outsider's view, everything looked perfectly normal, but he was far from calm. The reality that his Mum was gone was really starting to sink in, and now Buffy was standing in her kitchen, seemingly there to help.



Spike couldn't take it any longer. He reached across the table and touched her hand, but she flinched as if burned. He removed his hand quickly.



"Buffy, what is this? You haven't spoken to me in eleven years. Now you're here in Mum's kitchen having tea and bringing me scones as if…"



He couldn't believe the woman he'd hurt so badly was being kind to him. After a beat, he said, "I don't understand the sudden change. Care to fill a bloke in?"



The shrill whistling of the kettle saved her from answering right away. Grateful for the distraction she busied herself preparing the tea.



Once she sat down, an uncomfortable silence came over them. She looked at him now. He was as handsome as ever. She wondered if he'd stopped bleaching his hair: only the tips were white blond. It was tousled and curly. The most alarming thing were his beautiful blue eyes. They were bloodshot from his tears; the capillaries showed a roadmap of his misery. She felt a strong urge to reach out to him, but stifled it. She decided to answer his question, somewhat honestly.



"I…I know we haven't been close, but I understand what it's like to lose a parent, and no one should have to go through that alone. I remember how kind you and Anne were to me when my dad was sick. How we used to play together and Anne would throw tea parties and read to us. I had no idea my dad would die. I never thought my daddy would die, but then he did, and you and Anne were there for me then, too. I remember her explaining to me that it wasn't something God did to punish me. My dad was just very sick and in a lot pain, then he was in a better place and not sick anymore. I still missed him, but it made me feel better."



As she talked, she poured him a cup of tea and went about making it the way she remembered he liked it, lots of cream and four cubes of sugar. Buffy pushed the teacup toward him and placed a scone on a plate for him as well.



"She told me he would always be with me in my heart and in my memories, and that's true. Anne was a very special woman, and in some ways, I feel as though she was my second mother. You were incredibly fortunate to have her as your own."



Buffy decided she had to do something to convince him of this, so she reached across the table and touched his arm. "I just want to be here for you if need to talk, cry, or anything at all. I'm not expecting anything in return."



Buffy stared at the half-eaten scone on her plate as she spoke. She couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. Afterward she gazed up at his face. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he wept openly, putting a small crack in the barrier she'd put around her heart so long ago.



He gazed at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Buffy, love, I don't deserve this kindness from you. Not after what I did. I want to apologize."



Buffy gripped his arm, wincing inwardly at the term of endearment. "Shh, not now. We're focusing on you and Anne. Save that for later. Now drink your tea before it gets cold and eat your scone. I'm sure you're hungry." Buffy's voice was kind but authoritative.



The corners of Spike's mouth lifted just a fraction. "You always were a bossy little thing."



"I like to think of myself as mildly assertive, thank you very much," Buffy, said her voice laced with humor.



"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Spike actually chuckled a little at that.



"Seriously though, what can I do to help?" Buffy asked between sips of tea. "Have you had time to think about arrangements?"



"Mum said she had all her affairs in order and told me where to find them. Just haven't actually had the guts to get them. I came in last night, drank myself into a sodding stupor, and woke up not long before you showed up. I don't know if I have the strength to look at those papers," he said, putting his head in hand.



"Spike, I want you to look at me. I'm not going anywhere." Buffy's heart actually hurt for him. "If you need me to look at them for you I will, or we can look at them together. You tell me. It's your call."



She knew she had to do this, however painful it might be, not only for Anne, but for herself as well. This entire situation was so surreal to her. Buffy couldn't believe how right it felt for her to comfort him. She was still angry as hell with him, but those feeling would have to be put on hold for now.



"They're in the sideboard in the dining room, upper left-hand drawer," he said.



Buffy guessed that was her cue.



She got up to retrieve the papers. What she found was a large manila envelope. She brought it back to the table and set it down. The envelope somehow made things final and real. She looked over at Spike and saw his tear-filled eyes and shaking hands.



"Do you want to open it or should I?" she asked softly.



"I think I can do this. Just promise not to leave," he said, his voice slightly trembling.



"I promise. I'll stay right here." Buffy met his gaze, hoping to reassure him.



Spike stared at the envelope a moment before picking it up with trembling hands and emptying the contents onto the table. There were two separate documents and two envelopes, one addressed to William, the other to Buffy.



"The first thing here is about arrangements. It says her body is to be cremated. She wanted a small service at her church. Here's the best bloody part. She wants us to have a wake, or 'party' as she says, here at the house with all her friends in attendance. No moping about. We're to be happy and celebrate her life. The second document is her will. She's left everything to me with the exception of a few small things she's left for you, and of course, we have these two ominous envelopes. Should we open them now or wait until we're alone?"



Spike didn't seem too thrilled about opening the envelope. He looked haggard and on the verge of another breakdown. Buffy stood and began clearing the table.



"You don't have to do everything at once. We can do this together. Let's wait on the envelopes. Now that we know what she wants, we can start making arrangements. You go upstairs and wash up. When you come back, we can get started. I'll go with you and help you with anything I can. All right?"



Spike rose to his feet, but turned to her instead of moving to leave and said, "Buffy, thank you, I don't know what I would've done this morning without you. Probably gotten bloody drunk again to dull the pain. You have no idea how much this means to me, how kind you're being when I don't deserve it."



He leaned forward to push a stray lock of hair from her face, and she froze for a moment. She was terrified he was going to kiss her, and that would lead to all things bad.



Buffy recovered quickly without missing a beat. "We've already been over this once. We'll talk about that when it's time, and it's not now. Go wash your face, and I'll be here waiting for you. I'm going to call mom and let her know we have a plan. Anne's other friends will want to know too."



With his head tilted slightly, Spike gazed at her. He swallowed hard, trying to hold back a sob. "You—you're amazing, Buffy Summers," he said, before walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs.



Buffy eyed the envelopes on the table. She couldn't possibly imagine what was inside, but knowing Anne, she figured she was probably in for one hell of a surprise.

Buffy called Joyce to let her know they were going to make the arrangements and plan the wake and promised to call again once everything was completed. Joyce agreed to start calling friends and letting them know of Anne's passing. Buffy's only request was that they not descend upon the house. Spike was having a difficult enough time as it was without well-intentioned strangers knocking on his door. Buffy was firm in insisting that they could pay their respects at the funeral or the wake. She only hoped Joyce would keep her end of the bargain



As Buffy clicked off the phone, she turned and ran straight into Spike's lean, muscular chest.



"Oh, sorry," she said, taking a step back. "I thought you were still upstairs. I called Mom to let her know what's happening and she's going to tell the casserole brigade to stand down. I'm ready to go whenever you are. I'll be happy to drive."





Spike smiled. "I don't know, pet, have your driving skills improved in the last eleven years?"





Buffy playfully slapped his arm. "You'll just have to wait and see." She was hoping to bring some levity to the daunting task ahead of him.





It was a long difficult day. First, they had to go to the hospital to sign forms before heading to the funeral home. Spike held up well until they went over the arrangements. This seemed to be the most difficult part for him. He was in a daze during the actual arrangements, but was on the verge of breaking down when it came time to choose something for her ashes. He had to leave the room a couple of times, and Buffy finally put a comforting arm around him, helping him choose a beautiful mahogany box for Anne's ashes. Finally, they went to the church to speak with the priest about the service. Spike went over Anne's wishes, and when they'd arranged everything, they both left feeling emotionally drained. . The arrangements had taken a toll on Spike. He looked emotionally and physically exhausted. His face was paler than normal, and he was oddly silent. Buffy suggested they go somewhere for a late lunch, and he readily agreed, as if he too wanted to put that part of the day behind him.





Buffy suggested Vino's, a local brewpub.







"I can't believe this place is still around. We used to come here all the time. Remember? The last time we came here was just after we graduated. You didn't want to come, but I dragged you anyway." Spike smiled at the memory.





"Yes, I remember. It was some awful hardcore punk band, The Orange something-or-others. I hated every minute of it," Buffy said.





"Agent Orange, and I don't think it was a bad as you remember," Spike said, with a look of nostalgia.







They went inside and placed their order at the counter and Spike insisted on paying.







He found them a table in the corner. "I can't believe they still have these postcard things, so the servers can tell which order is yours. That's brilliant!"







When Buffy's cell began to ring, she looked at the caller and decided not to answer.







"Who was that calling? I…I'm sorry that was rude of me," Spike said, sheepishly.







"No. No, it's fine. It was just Willow. I'll call her back later." Buffy put the phone away in her purse.





"I'm guessing she doesn't know you're doing this with me." Spike gave her an inquiring look.





Buffy took a sip of her beer. "She doesn't have a clue."





"I can't imagine she'd be too happy." Spike took a long swig of his beer. "I mean she's hardly one of my biggest fans" He grabbed his cigarettes from his jacket pocket.







"You're right. She's very protective of me."







"I'm going to go outside and have a quick smoke before our food gets here. You don't mind, do you?" Spike stood and picked up the pack off the table.







"No, you go ahead. I'll be fine." Seeing him walk away remind her of the night he'd left her room after breaking up with Dru Harrington.







Buffy sat there lost in her thoughts.





It was early spring, and Buffy was preparing for bed when she heard Spike knocking on her window.



What in the world, could he want?



She raised the sash to let him in and he sauntered over and flopped down on her bed. "Evenin' love."



"Don't you 'evenin' love', me! I can't remember the last time you were here, now you think you can just waltz in here like everything's just peachy? Where's the Queen of the Loons?" Buffy stood, staring at him indignantly in her blue flannel sheep pajamas



"Broke up with her. Found out she was shagging half the bloody school," Spike said. His face was red, and if a person could actually shoot steam from his ears, Buffy imagined he would be doing that right about now.



"I'm sorry, I could have told you that, but I thought you'd never listen to me. You've barely spoken to me in ages." Buffy walked over and sat beside him. She really had no idea what to do. He looked more pissed off than hurt.



"You mean, this whole sodding time you knew and never once made a peep?" Spike stood and began to pace. "You're right though, I wouldn't have listened to you. My head was too far up my arse! I'm sorry for neglecting you. I'm a stupid git. Forgive me?"



"Of course I forgive you, but you're going to have to do some major groveling, mister." She gave him a wicked smirk. "Did you love her?" Buffy asked, dreading the answer.



"No. She was different. Something new and exciting. She's been places and seen things we haven't. Buffy, don't you ever wonder what it's like outside Sunnydale?" Spike stopped pacing and knelt before her.



"Well, yeah…I'd like to travel, see the world, but I like home too."



"Have you applied to any out of state colleges or any that aren't UC Sunnydale?" Spike asked with a hint of mockery in his voice.



"Yes, I've been accepted to Northwestern and Brown as well as a few others, thank you very much." Pride seeped from every syllable she uttered. Take that, Mr. Smarty Pants, she thought.



"I knew you had it you, love! I'm right impressed. Have you chosen yet?"



The fact the Spike seemed genuinely pleased for her sent tingles up her spine.



"Mom and I haven't really had a chance to talk about it. There are a lot of money issues involved, even if I do have scholarships to some of the schools." Buffy tucked her chin as she said this, not wanting to meet his eyes.



He tipped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "That's rot, and you know it. There's always financial aid and there're work-study programs. You can make it work if you really want it."



Trying to change the subject she said, "So have you gotten any letters?"



"A few, but I know where I'm going." Spike grinned, then lifted his eyebrows as if he were waiting for her to ask him.



"Where?" She knew he would have his pick of schools, but she was still curious.



"Columbia, full scholarship! Hello, New York—goodbye Sunnydale! I can't wait to see what's out there, to leave this hellhole behind." Spike was so lost in his excitement he didn't see the hurt flash across Buffy's face.



"I'm sure your mom is really proud. You deserve it. You've always been one of the smartest people I know. Congratulations!" She hoped her voice wasn't betraying her true feelings. She was crying inside, the pain of losing him was tearing her in two. She'd just gotten him back and now he was leaving.



"She's chuffed to bits, but she's not so thrilled with the idea of me being across the country. I promised I'd come home every holiday and that seemed to calm her. Listen I have to run, but I want you to think about those schools and talk to your mum. I'll see you tomorrow."



He kissed her forehead and was out the window before she could say a word.



Buffy curled up on her bed, clutching her stuffed pig and began to cry. She knew she wasn't going anywhere. Joyce had made it clear there was no extra money for college, and there was a need for her stay and work at the retirement center while she went to school. Just another added touch from her mother-Buffy's needs and wants never taken into consideration.





"You in there?"





Buffy jumped, startled, and looked up to see that Spike, and their food had arrived while she was lost in her thoughts.





"You looked liked you were doing some serious thinking."





Buffy took another sip of beer. "I'm here. I was just thinking, no big deal."





Spike took a slice of pizza and gave one to Buffy. "So tell me, after Berkeley, where did Willow end up? Did she come back?"





After swallowing her first bite of pizza, Buffy said, "No, she and Oz got married after college and moved to LA. She worked for a software company until Lewis came along." She wiped her mouth carefully as if to make sure there was no stray cheese left behind. "She's been in the mommy business for the last two years. We stay in close contact, calling each other two or three times a week."





"And what of Xander, he still around?" Spike asked, finishing his first slice and going for another.





"He lives in the LA area too. He owns a construction business and is married to a woman named Anya. They don't have any children yet, but according to Anya, they're making a concerted effort daily. She's, uh, very direct to put it kindly."





Spike, so amused by her comments about Xander's wife, almost choked on his beer.





"Sounds the like the whelp's got his hands full with that one," he said after finishing his beer. He ordered another as the waiter passed by.





"What about you, Buffy? Spike realized Buffy was doing all this for him, but never occurred to him she might have a boyfriend. "Do you have someone special in your life? I'm so selfish, taking up all your time, and I've never thought to ask." Spike gazed at her as if he didn't really want to hear the answer.





"No, um, my work keeps me very busy. I don't have much time for socializing."





Thank God, Spike thought.





"Mum told me what you do, and I think it's amazing. To know you're helping children and their families through such a difficult transition must be so rewarding."





"It is, but not every case is perfect. Some are heart-wrenching."





"Buffy, if you don't mind my asking…why did you stay?" Spike tilted his head waiting for a reply.





"Because I just couldn't bear to be apart from my dear mother." Buffy spoke with a venomous tone of voice. "I'm sorry that was uncalled for. She said we didn't have the money for me to go out of state to school, and I had to stay at the retirement home and work. Yet, somehow she managed to travel and see the world."





Spike was almost speechless. He had no idea of the burdens she'd borne. If possible, he felt more guilt now than he had previously. When she finished speaking, she'd bowed her head as if she was embarrassed for saying such things.





"Buffy, pet, please look at me. I don't know what to say. I…I'm sorry seems so hollow and meaningless, especially now. I wish there was a way to take back all the hateful, selfish things I said to you as well. I do mean that from the bottom of my heart. I guess looking back on things. Joyce has always put her needs ahead of yours. I'm glad Mum was here for you, and Joyce said you were there for her in the end. I'm so grateful to you for that, love."





He reached across the table and took her hand, caressing her knuckles. Buffy's eyes filled with unshed tears.

They arrived back at Anne's late in the afternoon. Buffy was mortified to have let her emotions get the best of her and for spilling her guts to Spike. She'd promised to comfort him, not burden him.



Spike unlocked the door, holding it for Buffy. She immediately noticed the disorder the paramedics left in the living room and went about setting things to rights, picking up pillows and moving the coffee table back into its original place.



"Buffy, that wasn't necessary. I'd have gotten around to it eventually." Spike gazed at her as though she done the most wonderful thing.



"I know, but now you don't have to worry about it." Buffy knew it was a painful reminder for him, and maybe now he could sit in here and watch television or read without his thoughts straying painfully.



Spike was standing outside the living room staring at her with a mixture of sadness and sudden shyness. "Um…can I get you anything? he asked, looking toward the kitchen. "I don't know what's here really, and I haven't had much time to look in the kitchen. Would you like a drink?"





"I'm still pretty full from lunch, but I wouldn't say no to a drink," Buffy said, sitting down on the sofa.



"I'll see if there's some orange juice in the fridge, so we can have screwdrivers. I drank all the whiskey last night." As he made his way to the kitchen he said, "Thank God, it's gone. I don't think I'm up for any more binge drinking."



"I'm glad to hear it. That's just a thousand gallons of badness," she said.



"Found some. It's good to know you're ever the wordsmith. I'll have our drinks in second."



"Hey, were you just insulting me? You'd better knock it off, mister." Buffy smiled, remembering how he used to tease her for her so-called butchering of the English language.



Spike came in with their drinks, handing Buffy hers and sitting down on the sofa close to her. "I wasn't insulting you. As a matter of fact, I find it adorable that you still do it," Spike smirked over the rim of his glass.



Buffy was a bit lightheaded from his flirting and his closeness to her. She had to say something to distract herself from the situation, and she found herself suddenly asking if he'd prepared the obituary for Anne.



Way to go Buffy. Let's torture him some more, she thought.



His mood darkened immediately. The smirk was gone, replaced with a somber gaze. "I know I have to turn it into the paper on Monday, but it's just a sodding painful thing to do." He took a long drink of before he spoke again. "I don't know how I'm going to do it, and I have a fucking PhD in English."



Buffy reached over and put her hand on his knee. "Remember, I told you I would be here to help. Why don't you come over to my place for dinner tomorrow, and we can work on it if you're still having trouble, okay?" she said, hoping this would calm him.



Giving her hand a squeeze, he said, "Hopefully, I'll be done by then, but I'd love to come over for dinner. Give me your address and numbers before you leave, and we can set a time."



Buffy took a swallow of her drink before sitting it on the coffee table. "That sounds like a plan. How does seven sound to you?" she asked. "I'm no chef, but I think I can throw something palatable together, and speaking of food we'll need to call the caterers on Monday for the wake as well. I'll talk to Mom this evening to get an idea of how many people to expect."



Spike gazed at her thoughtfully. "I really have no idea what I would have done had you not come over today. You can't begin to know how much this means to me. I'd be lost without you," he said.



Buffy fidgeted with the hem of top. "It's no problem. Anne was very special to me too. I want to make sure all her wishes are honored."



She took another large swallow of her drink to calm her nerves. Things were getting a little too close for comfort, and Spike seemed oblivious.



"I know how much you and Mum meant to each other." He picked up his glass and took a drink before setting it back down. "It's just hard to wrap my brain around all the kindness you've shown me today."



"It's like I said this morning, I understand what it's like to lose a parent, and I don't think you should have to go through it alone," Buffy said, hoping this would satisfy him.



"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad you're here," he said, gently squeezing her hand again.



He was so close Buffy could smell him. The hint of aftershave and cigarettes was driving her crazy. She had to get out of there before something happened.



"You know, I'm getting kinda tired. I think I might head home," she said, suddenly moving to get up.



Spike looked confused. "Wait, I thought we were going to look at the envelopes together."



"I…I think I'd like to take mine home and read it privately. That is if you don't mind?" Buffy asked, praying he'd say he didn't.



Spike stood and helped her to her feet. "No, whatever you prefer is fine by me. I'll get a pen and paper." He seemed genuinely disappointed that she was leaving.



Buffy went into the dining room to retrieve her envelope and waited for him.



He came back momentarily with a pad and pencil. "Here you go. Write away."



After Buffy had written her info, she walked to the door with Spike following closely behind. "Well I guess this is good night. I'm going to go home, give Willow a call, and then get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow." She stood waiting for him to say something.



Spike came to stand closer to her. "Good night, Buffy. Thanks again for all you've done today." He reached up to brush tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear and her breath hitched. "I'll see you tomorrow then." He leaned down and gently kissed her lips.



"Yeah, right, tomorrow. I've got to go now." Buffy turned and almost ran to her car, her heart racing. This was the thing she'd been afraid of, letting him in again and getting to close, knowing she'd only lose him again in the end. She didn't think her heart could take that.



Spike slammed the door and leaned against it. "Christ! That went bleeding well!" He paced back and forth in the entryway. "Now she's probably done with me."



Only silence greeted him. He went back into the living room, sat down, polished off his drink and the rest of Buffy's too. Spike contemplated what do next. He supposed he should open the envelope or try writing the obituary.



He opted for the envelope. He went to the dining room to retrieve it and opened it with trembling hands. He sat down and took a deep breath before unfolding the pages, not sure this was such a good idea, but he'd already opened it, so there was no going back. He couldn't put the tiger back in the cage.



As he pored over the letter, he couldn't believe what he was reading. His tears began to flow freely. Anne told him how much she loved him, of course, but she also said she'd been feeling ill for quite some time, but didn't want to bother anyone. Spike's heart constricted with pain. If only his Mum had shared this with him or anyone for that matter, she might still be here, but her stubbornness kept from doing so, and the fact that she was too busy worrying about others to take time for herself. The final part of the letter was the most shocking. Anne requested that he and Buffy travel to England together to a place in Cornwall called Padstow and spread her ashes on the beach there. Spike smiled through his tears at that even in death his Mum was trying to repair things between Buffy and him.



He wondered what Buffy's letter had said, and if it contained the same request about the ashes. Spike thought of Buffy's reaction to reading the letter. Did she even have a passport? Would she do it for Anne's sake or had he ruined all chance of that tonight with the kiss? He could still remember the feel of her lips on his, and it made him long for more. Spike knew he still had feelings for her—still loved her, even after eleven years.



He knew they'd hit some of the highlights of their problem today the restaurant, but she needed to let him say his piece. He hoped she'd allow it soon because he was becoming impatient. Patience had never been one of his virtues, and the way she'd torn out the door just now made him believe he was well and truly buggered.



After he'd broken up with Dru, he began to see Buffy in a whole new light, and he guessed it had been there all along. He'd never thought any of the boys she'd dated had been good enough for her, though she'd never had a steady boyfriend. Things begin to change the day he punched Riley Finn for calling her the "ice queen."



He remembered it as though it were yesterday.

He and Buffy were been in her bedroom. Joyce was off on one of her many trips. He was sitting on her bed with him. She sat in his lap with her head tucked in the crook of his neck as she cried. He buried his face in her hair, murmuring soothing words and inhaling her citrus scent. Her skin was warm and soft to the touch as he stroked her arm. He was in heaven being this close to her.

He thought he heard her mumble something, and they lifted their heads at the same time, bumping noses.

Buffy sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Oh my God! Did I hurt you? Here you are trying to comfort me, and I'm all with the nearly knocking your nose off."

Buffy's ramblings would have continued, but he lifted her chin and silenced her with a kiss. Her lips were soft and plump and they tasted like peaches. He applied gentle pressure and she opened her mouth to him, kissing him back softly, almost hesitantly. He nibbled on her lower lip then swept his tongue across it and before he knew it her tongue had come into play, tasting the cavern of his mouth. Her hands were in his hair pulling his head closer to her, while he stroked her cheek with one hand and caressed her arm with the other. Spike's lungs burned for oxygen when they finally pulled away.

"Spike, not to sound stupid, but what was that?" she asked, putting a hand on his chest.

"Kitten, if I have to tell you, maybe we should try it again." He gazed at her and grinned.

"No, you meanie! I meant why did you kiss me? Am I your pity case or something?" Buffy lowered her head and looked embarrassed.

He lifted her chin and gazed into her beautiful hazel eyes. "Are you daft, woman? I've been dying to do that. It's just the first opportunity I've had. I thought I'd seize the moment."

Buffy blushed and reached out to caress his angular cheek. "Really? I can't believe it! I never knew, but I'm sure glad I do now. I'd like some more seizing, please," Buffy said, as she leaned in for another kiss.



From that point on they'd been a couple. It hadn't been much of a shock to their close friends. They dated right up until he screwed everything up.



He got up to go upstairs and get his laptop to work on the obituary, willing away any thoughts of Buffy for the rest of the evening.

Buffy sat on her sofa, eyeing both her cell and the envelope from Anne and thinking about all the things she needed to do. She didn't know if she could press on with these butterflies in her stomach, and she rubbed her temples to soothe her throbbing head from the confusion and anxiety of what to do next.

If Buffy closed her eyes, she could still feel the brief brush of Spike's lips against hers, and oh, how she longed for more, but she had to be strong. Nothing good could come from getting involved with Spike. He'd left her when she needed him. She hadn't been honest with him back then, and he'd apologized for the things he'd said so many years ago today at the restaurant, but there were other things too. He lived across the country, and she was still here in good ol' Sunnydale.

Nothing good, no siree, not one single thing, she thought.

She decided on a stalling tactic—calling her mother.

"Hey, Mom," Buffy said half-heartedly, her voice tinged with emotion and weariness.

"Hi, honey. Are you okay? You sound a little down?"

Buffy could imagine Joyce's brows wrinkling.

"I'm fine. It's just been a very emotional day. Dealing with death is not all hugs and puppies you know." Buffy didn't mean to be so harsh, but how did Joyce expect her to sound?

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I wasn't thinking." Joyce paused, her voice catching, and when she continued, she spoke just above a whisper, her empathy for Buffy's pain at losing a dear friend coming through. "I've called everyone, and I think we can expect at least 150 people for the funeral and half that for the wake. You know how well loved Anne was."

"I'm sorry I snapped at you before. It's just been kind of a roller-coaster of emotions for both of us. Spike is a wreck one minute and the next he seems fine. Would you mind handling the catering arrangements on Monday?" Buffy paced the length of couch waiting for an answer. "The service is at ten, so I would think they would need to have things set up at the house by 11:30 at the very latest," Buffy said, twirling her hair, hoping her mother with agree to help further.

"It's all right. I know you're under a lot of stress. I'm sorry for about not asking about William sooner, the poor dear. I'm so glad you're there for him, and I'm sure he appreciates it very much. Of course, I'll be happy to take care of the catering arrangements. Do you want anything in particular or do you want me to handle everything?" Joyce said, sounding sympathetic but ready for the task at hand.

"Thanks so much, Mom. You just do whatever you think is best. You've really been a huge help. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Buffy hung up the phone and went into the kitchen to get a glass of her favorite zinfandel, hoping the silky, full-bodied flavor would calm her nerves. She was still in a quandary as to what to do first. When Buffy returned to the living room, she made up her mind to start with the envelope. Buffy worried that it might contain information she needed to talk to Willow about.

Buffy set her glass down on the table, picked up the envelope and sat down on the sofa. She stared at it for a moment before ripping it open. She unfolded the paper and began to read. She read the first part and began to cry over all the kind things Anne had to say. Anne also mentioned the two things she'd left to her in her will, her silver stamped necklace with a bee in the center, which stood for friendship, and her antique diamond and ruby ring that had been her mother's before her. These were the only two pieces of jewelry Anne ever wore. This moved Buffy to tears. Until she read the final bit and found herself so astonished by what she read, she thought her eyes might pop out of her head. She had to call now.

She picked up her wine glass and took a several sips for courage, then grabbed her cell and dialed Willow's number, praying she'd answer. She answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Buffy, what's up? I tried calling earlier, but didn't get you."

The sound of something sizzling in a frying pan reminded Buffy that she'd yet to have dinner.

"Yeah, I've been busy most of the day. What's going on with you?" Buffy asked, trying to stall the inevitable.

"Oh, nothing much, Lewis is playing, and I'm making dinner. What's kept you so busy that you couldn't talk to your best friend?" Willow's tone sounded playful.

Buffy stood and began to pace the room. "Wils, Anne passed away on Friday," Buffy said, fighting the urge not cry again.

"Oh no, Buffy, I'm so sorry. Sweetie, what can I do? Do you need me to come? I can. Just say the word."

Buffy knew Willow meant every word.

"No, but thank you so much for offering. You know I love you, right?"

"Of course, and I love you, but something tells me there's more to this story. Where's Spike? Is he there yet? Have you seen him?"

Buffy bit her lip and braced herself for the conversation to come.

"Well...see the thing is, before she died, Anne made me promise to be there for him and help him with things, to…um, comfort him." Buffy was twirling her hair nervously as she spoke.

"So, he's there, and you've seen him? You know I can't stand him for what he did to you, but I'm sorry about his Mother. He must be devastated. You're doing a very kind thing, sweetie." Willow sounded supportive.

"He's an emotional wreck. I hate seeing him this way. It breaks my heart," Buffy said.

"Buffy, sweetie, tell me the truth. Do you still have feelings for him?"

Buffy sighed. "He kissed me tonight, and it was wonderful, but I ran. Being near him makes me feel wonderful and confused at the same time. Every time I touch him, I want more. Just being near him gives me tingles up my spine. Now, Anne left me this letter to open after her death. At the end, her final request was for Spike and I travel to England together to scatter her ashes on some beach. Wils, honestly I don't know if I have the courage to do it."

Buffy plopped down on the couch, exhausted from sharing so much and scared of what Willow was going to say.

"Sometimes you just have to let the past be in the past. I know he hurt you, but if you think there might be a chance for something you have open yourself up to it. I've been your friend for a long time, and I know you pretty well. I don't want you to close yourself off emotionally to something that could potentially be wonderful for you."

Buffy could tell she was wearing her resolve face, so there was no use arguing with her.

"I'll do my best." Buffy hung up with her head a little clearer. She needed to call Spike and tell him about catering arrangements.

Buffy dialed Anne's number and waited for Spike to pick up.

Spike almost didn't answer it until he saw who was calling on the caller ID.

"Hey, pet, how are you?" Spike couldn't believe she called.

"Hey, I'm fine. How'd you know it was me?" Buffy sounded surprised.

"By the magic of caller ID. I'm fine. I've written the obituary, and I was about to call a friend from the university."

"Oh, I'm sorry…I won't keep you." She hesitated for a moment before letting the rest of her words tumble from her lips in anxiousness. "I just wanted to let you know, the catering arrangements have been taken care of, and Mom has notified everyone."

"You're not keeping me from anything. The call can wait. There's a three-hour time difference remember? Look, love, I'm sorry if I frightened you or did something out of line. You ran out of here so quickly I didn't get a chance to apologize," Spike said, hoping she'd give him some explanation for her runner.

"No, don't apologize…that is unless you didn't mean it. It did frighten me a little, but it also took me by surprise. I didn't know what to do, so I panicked and ran. I just don't want to get hurt, and there are so many other issues involved. I just don't know. Can we talk about this tomorrow at dinner? I really don't feel like this is conversation for the phone."

Spike could hear the nervousness and tension in her voice.

"That's fine," he said. "Just know I would never hurt you willingly again. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Buffy."

Spike almost whooped with joy. Not only did she not hate him, but she'd wanted the kiss too!

Spike decided he needed to call Giles and make some plans regarding the summer semester. As was his custom, Giles answered the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Giles, it's Spike." Spike hoped this would go well, but he was asking a lot.

"Ah, Spike, how are holding up? Have you been able to make all the arrangements? Do you need me for anything? I can be on the first plane. You know I wouldn't hesitate."

Spike knew he wouldn't either. Over the years, he'd become more than a mentor, and friend. He'd also become a sort of father figure to him as well.

"Thanks for your offer, mate, but we've got everything covered here. The funeral is on Tuesday. I know it's the end of the semester, and I don't think I'll be back before then," Spike said.

"We? So you have someone to help you? I'm very glad you're not going through this alone. It pained me to think you were, and as I told you, don't worry about your classes."

Spike drummed his fingers on the coffee table as he talked, hoping to calm his nerves.

"Yes, I have help—Buffy. She's an old friend and was with Mum when she passed away. I don't know what I would do without her. Mum's final request was for us to travel to Cornwall — Padstow, specifically—and scatter her ashes there."

"Oh yes, you've spoken of her to me before. Well I am relieved to know things are better between the two of you. I know you care for her a great deal, and I'm glad she's decided to be there for you during your time of need," Giles said.

Spike bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut before continuing, praying this would end well. "I don't think that with the sale of the house and taking care of all of Mum's things, plus the trip to England I'll be back for the summer session either. Do you think there'll still be a place for me in the fall?" Spike's stomach clenched awaiting the answer.

"Don't worry about the summer session. I'll take care of it. You just focus on taking care of things there. If there's anything I can do don't hesitate to call."

"Thanks, Giles, this means so much to me. I appreciate all your help. I'll call again when I know more. Good night."

Spike breathed a huge sigh of relief. He'd been so worried he might not have a job to go back to if he took the summer off.

His thoughts drifted back to Buffy, and he realized there were many obstacles they would have to get past if they wanted to make a go of it. He decided he was willing overcome any of them to be with her. She was worth it.

Buffy carefully chose her outfit for tonight, deciding upon a turquoise knee-length halter dress that accentuated her toned shoulders, and some silver hoop earrings to complete the look. She went with minimal make-up, just blush, eye shadow, and lip-gloss, put her hair up in a loose chignon, and sprayed her pulse points with Jo Malone Orange Blossom perfume. After slipping into her sandals, she hurried back into the kitchen just as the oven timer went off.

She was taking the lasagna out of the oven when the doorbell rang. She looked at the clock, which not surprisingly read 6:45. She put the lasagna on top of the stove and ran toward the front door.

"I'm coming!" she said.

She opened the door to find Spike standing there dressed in faded blue jeans, a black, untucked dress shirt, and a gray jacket. His hair was lacking gel, so it was tousled and curly. Buffy felt her temperature rise from the sight of him, barely noticing the bouquet of blue hydrangeas he held out to her.

"Um, Buffy, can I come in? I think these might need some water," Spike said.

"Oh, sorry. Sure, please come on into the kitchen. These are beautiful. Let me get a vase."

She went to the cabinet to get a vase then to the drawer for scissors to cut the stems.

"I remembered they used to be your favorite, only I know you used to like them best before they changed color. Dinner smells delicious. Did you make it? Weren't you the girl who could only make microwave popcorn and still managed to burn it half the time?" he said, teasingly.

"Well, mister, I'll have you know my culinary skills have much improved. Your mother taught me a thing or two." Her expression softened at his thoughtfulness. "I can't believe you remembered these were my favorite. Thank you so much! You know, they actually do grow a green hydrangea now, but these are beautiful too."

Spike came over to her and caressed her shoulder. He whispered in her ear, "I'm sure they have. Mm, it certainly does smell delicious. I can't wait to taste. The flowers aren't the only beautiful thing here, Buffy. You're gorgeous tonight."

Flustered by his remark, Buffy felt her cheeks turn beet red. She needed to get her mind out of the gutter.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Buffy shook her head. "You'd be surprised. I do know my way around the kitchen. I am a bachelor after all. Who's going to feed me, if I don't feed myself?"

He had her there. She hadn't thought of that. No one was waiting for Spike back in New York. The idea of this gave her hope.

"Why don't you take the foil off the lasagna and put it back in the oven for another ten minutes so it'll get nice and brown. I'll pour us a glass of wine."

Their dinner conversation was relatively mundane. They talked about work and traded horror stories about their chosen professions. Spike complimented her on her skills in the kitchen as they ate and drank their wine, but he seemed anxious to discuss the things they'd talked about on the phone.

Buffy suggested they have their coffee and orange chiffon cake in the living room where they could be more comfortable and Spike agreed. He helped her carry things in from the kitchen and they sat facing each other on the sofa.

"I read Mum's letter. Have you had a chance to read yours?" Spike asked, turning to gaze into Buffy's eyes.

"Yes, I read mine. She told me what she left to me in her will, but the last part was the shock to end all shocks."

Buffy wouldn't look him in the eye and kept smoothing her dress. Spike could feel the tension rolling off her in waves.

"I know. It surprised me too. Do you think it's something you're up for?" Spike bit his lower lip, gazing at her as he anticipated her reply.

She took a sip of her coffee then said, "I don't know. There are so many things involved. I'm just so afraid, and I don't know what to do. I want to honor her wishes, but I don't want to be hurt in the process."

Spike thought she looked so helpless and afraid. Now it was time for to listen to him.

"Buffy, I want to say my piece, and I don't want any interruptions from you until I'm done. Will you do that for me, please?"

"Yes," she said.

"I apologized at Vino's the other day for all the hateful things I said and did, but if I'd known the circumstances I never would have left you. I shouldn't have been nosing through things on your desk that afternoon when I found out you'd not gone though with any of the acceptance letters to any other schools, but you should have been honest with me, love. I thought we were in love. I thought we shared everything, then I found out you'd been lying to me the entire time. I felt so foolish and used, but I still wanted to make it work. When I asked you to go Columbia with me and you refused, telling me to go away, that you didn't want to see me anymore, I thought I would die. It felt like you'd ripped my heart out and stomped on it."

Spike took her hand in his. "If I'd known Joyce was behind it I would have wrung her neck on the spot! I'm here now though, and if you still want me, I'm yours. God help me, Buffy, I don't think I've ever been anyone else's."

By the time Spike finished, tears streaked his cheeks. Buffy appeared overwhelmed by this knowledge. Her eyes were wide and full of emotion. She reached up to wipe an errant tear from his cheek. Her lower lip trembled as if she herself were about to burst into tears.

"There's no way you could have known. I never told anyone that until the other day. I don't know what possessed me to do it then. It wasn't your fault. It was all mine. I should have been honest. Please don't take the blame for something you had no control over." Buffy looked down at her dress, smoothing it with her other hand.

Spike squeezed the hand he was holding and placed his other hand on her cheek to bring her eyes to meet his. "Maybe it was time for you to unburden yourself, share it with someone who cares. Who can help."

"I'm scared, and I can be bitchy and distant when I am. How are things going to work between us when you live across the country?"

"Things will be fine. You're welcome to be as moody as you like with me - remember, I've known you almost my whole life. I told you I'm not letting you go unless you tell me to leave and even then, I might put up a fight. I've made arrangements to take the rest of the summer off. Let's go to England and see what happens. We can move on from there."

Spike didn't want to scare her by telling her they would be stopping off in New York for a couple of days, and she just might find she liked it there as well. That little tidbit would keep for a while.

"Okay, but on one condition. You give me some control in setting the pace. I'm very rusty relationship wise, and I'd like to take things slow. When I'm with you I feel warm and safe, and that makes me nervous. Does that make any sense?" Buffy gazed at him imploringly.

He kissed her on the tip of her nose and said, "On some level, yes, but you have nothing to be afraid of. Anything you want, kitten. You lead, and I'll follow."

"You haven't called me that in forever. I've missed it." She snuggled into his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

"Is that so? I'll have to remember that. Our coffee is cold, but that cake looks delicious. What's say we have a bite?" He kissed the top of her head and leaned down to pick up a fork and piece of cake, feeding her the first bite.

"Mm, that's scrumptious! You have to try it. Make sure you get a bite with the filling and the icing." Her words came out garbled, as her mouth was still half-full of cake.

"It must be good, if you're talking with your mouth full, naughty girl." Spike took a bite and agreed it was indeed very good. He continued to share the cake until there was none left.

"Do you want the other slice?"

"No, I don't think I couldn't eat another bite. I'd rather just snuggle here with you," she said, patting her stomach.

"That works out nicely then because I'm content to just be here holding you," he said, kissing her temple.

She leaned her head up to gaze at him. "I have to go to work in the morning for a staff meeting. I'm not sure if I'll be there all day or not, but I can give you a call if you leave your cell number."

"Sure, I'll leave it before I go. I guess I should probably get going so you can get some rest for work, huh?"

Spike leaned down and brushed her lips with his. Buffy responded eagerly. At first, the kiss was gentle and exploratory, but soon grew in intensity. She moaned as he nibbled her bottom lip and began to chart his way down her neck.

"God, Kitten. You smell and taste so good, like oranges. I could eat you up. You're driving me wild."

Her hands were in his hair, holding him close to her, as if she never wanted to let him go. Spike's hands weren't idle either. They were rubbing sensual circles on her back as he held her close. It was then he noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, and this only heightened his arousal. His hands moved to her sides, caressing the curves of her breasts and this seemed to draw Buffy out of her lust-induced stupor.

She pushed back and said, "It really is getting late. I think we'd better call it a night."

Spike understood, taking both her hand in his. "Right then, no pressure. I had a wonderful evening with you and hope to have many more."

Taking a pen and notebook out of his jacket pocket, he jotted down his cell number and gave it to her. He stood to leave and took her hand, pulling her up.

"Can I help you clean up before I go?"

"No, I'm just going to put the dishes in the dishwasher and put everything else in the fridge, but thanks for the offer." Buffy squeezed his hand and walked him to the door.

Spike put his arms around her waist and rested his forehead against hers. "Thanks again, for a wonderful evening. Don't forget what I said. I meant every word." He lightly kissed her on the tip of her nose.

"I promise. I'll try. Just don't give up on me." Buffy stood on her tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. "Good night, Spike."

"Sweet dreams, Buffy."

He walked out into the night air feeling as though a thousand pound weight had been lifted from his body.

Buffy's coworkers were surprised to see her when she arrived at work the next morning, and they offered their condolences for her loss. Buffy explained she needed the normalcy of work to keep her mind off other things. After the morning meeting she asked to speak with Benny alone. He agreed and she followed him into his office.

"How are you holding up? I know how hard this has to be for you," Benny said.

"I'm doing all right. It is hard, but I've been helping Anne's son with the arrangements, and we've been there for each other. The funeral is tomorrow at one. It's at Trinity Episcopal, but there's something else I needed to ask you about." Buffy's heart pounded a mile a minute, not from the question she needed to ask, but because of the reason she needed to ask it.

"What is it? You know I'll do anything I can to support you."

"I need to ask you about taking some vacation time. It seems Anne wants us to travel to England and scatter her ashes." She paused, waiting for him to take this in.

"Wow, that's some request." He raised eyebrows, and his mouth was slightly agape.

"How long are you planning to be gone?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I know I have two weeks saved up, but I don't know if I'll need that long. I'll have to ask Sp—William to see what he wants to do. Can I let you know?"

"That's not a problem, as long as you give me enough time to get someone to cover your case load."

Buffy smiled, relieved that things had gone so well. "Thanks so much, Benny. I really appreciate you doing this."

"It's nothing, Buffy. You work very hard and you certainly deserve your time off."

"Thanks, I'll see you later," Buffy said, as she got up to leave his office.

Around lunchtime, she gave Spike a call.

"Hello, kitten, how's your day?"

"Hey you! I see you've already plugged my number in your cell. You're such a geek," she said.

Who was she kidding? She'd put his number in her cell as soon as he gave it to her.

"Oi! Am not, just didn't want to lose it."

Buffy could imagine his sexy pout, his bottom lip protruding slightly and his beautiful blue eyes looking forlorn.

"Whatever you say," she said, closing a file on her computer. "I talked to my boss this morning about taking time off. I have two weeks of vacation time. He said to just give him notice of when I would need it and if I would need it all at once."

"That's brilliant! Listen…"

Buffy heard his voice change. He sounded nervous, and she wondered what the problem was.

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind bringing over the leftovers from dinner last night…"

"Sure, that's no problem. I'd love to. What time?"

"I wasn't quite finished. Would you mind staying over? I don't think I can face tomorrow alone. I promise to be a gentleman. I'll even sleep on the sofa. Just don't make stay me here alone," he said, his voice heavy with emotion, as if he were a child who'd had a favorite toy taken from him.

Buffy was dumbfounded. The notion of spending the night with him had her heart racing like a runner's for the finish line. Her palms were sweating, and she wiped them on her skirt. She promised to be there for him, lust bunnies be damned!

She took a deep breath before saying, "Sure, just give me time to go by the house and get my things together. I can be there at six-thirty. Is that okay? Do you need me to pick anything up at the market?"

Buffy could hear him sigh in what could only be relief.

"Thank you, love. You've no idea what this means to me, and no thanks, I don't need anything. I went today. I'll let you get back to your work, and I'll see you this evening. Good bye."

Great, just great! Are you ever going to learn? You and Spike? So not good.

When Buffy got off work, she ran by the liquor store for a bottle of wine, just in case Spike had forgotten to buy one. The truth of it was she was stalling. She took her time gathering her things at home for the next day and the leftovers from the previous evening. She was just pulling out of her driveway when her cell rang. She looked at clock in her car and it read 7:15.

Damn!

"Buffy, are you okay?"

"Sure," she said, hesitantly.

"I'm sorry, you just had me worried. You're over a half an hour late."

"I just had a couple of things to do, and I guess I didn't realize the time," she said, unable to keep the annoyance out of her tone.

"I'm sorry if you're annoyed with me, but I was worried, and I wouldn't have had to call if you'd let me know you were to be going late."

He sounded as if he were using all his patience. She could practically hear his jaw clenching and unclenching.

Buffy gripped the steering wheel and sighed in frustration. "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware I had to give you a schedule of my life so you could know where I was at all times."

"You know what? Just forget it! Just forget I ever asked to do a sodding thing for me! Go back home to your cozy little house and fucking forget it!" he said, and the line went dead.

Buffy knew she'd hurt him. She had a clear picture of him pacing the room with clenched fists, probably on the verge of tears, and it was all because of her and her fears. She pulled out the drive and headed toward Anne's to make things right. She knew she had to apologize and be honest. She only hoped he'd calm down a bit before she got there.

When Buffy arrived, she left her stuff in the car, only bringing the food and wine. She came around to the back door to find him sitting on the steps in a billow of smoke, a bottle of beer between his knees.

He took another inhale of the cigarette exhaling it in her direction. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you not to come." His voice was hoarse and weary.

His shoulders were slumped in defeat, but she couldn't help but notice his well-defined chest, even in the ratty old Pogues t-shirt he'd had since high school.

"I came to apologize for earlier. It was completely uncalled for, and you had every right to be concerned. I was a complete bitch. Thank you for caring. I'm not used to people — men — looking out for my welfare. At least not in a long while, and it took me by surprise."

Buffy looked down at the ground and scuffed her foot in the grass. "Look. The truth is I was stalling. I got scared about being alone with you for so long that I tried to take as much time as possible to get here. That's the horrible, honest truth."

She sighed and rubbed her temple with one hand, not wanting to meet his eyes for fear of what she might see.

Spike dropped the cigarette in the empty beer bottle, causing a hissing noise as it hit the remnants of liquid at the bottom. He stood and walked slowly to her, reaching out with one hand to cup her cheek, making her meet his gaze.

"You have no need to be sorry. I acted like a complete git after I promised to be there for you through all your moods." He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I had no right to yell at you, and I didn't mean any of it. Of course, I want you here. No place else I'd rather you be. Was just running my stupid gob."

He kissed her forehead and said, "Looks like dinner's here, so what's say we go in and have some?"

Spike uncorked the bottle of wine he'd bought earlier that day and poured two glasses as Buffy heated the lasagna in the microwave. He'd gotten some fresh bread to go along with it as well. He hoped this was the end of the awkwardness. He hated how he'd lost his temper with her earlier. He'd forgotten just how infuriatingly independent she could be at times.

He handed her a glass of wine and proposed a toast. "Here's to a lovely evening with no sign of the git me or the bitchy you," he said, with a smirk.

"Hey! You just called me a bitch, mister!"

"Oi! I did not. You called yourself one. I was just reiterating the fact." He laughed at her mock indignation.

"You are so gonna pay for that, and when you least expect it, too." She smiled and rubbed her hands together evilly. "Just you wait! I remember your weaknesses, William Jameson."

It had been so long since she'd used his real name. It felt nice to hear it from her lips. He loved it when she used to call him Will.

Spike's eyebrows rose and he clutched his chest. "Oh, whatever will I do? I would say I'm shaking in my boots, but my feet are bare."

Buffy playfully slapped him on the arm. "I'd keep my guard up if I were you. I'm very sneaky you know." She clapped her hands together, making a loud noise. "It'll happen just like that, and you'll never know what hit you."

"Okay, okay. I get it. Now quit with the idle threats and let's eat."

They continued their light-hearted banter through dinner and dessert, polishing off the bottle of wine.

Once they put away everything from dinner, they opened the second bottle of wine and decided to watch some television in the living room. Spike sat at the end of the sofa, and Buffy snuggled next to him. They were more than halfway through the second bottle of wine and channel surfing. Neither could agree on anything for any length of time.

"Is it just me, or do we have the attention spans of someone with ADD minus their meds?" Buffy said, running her hands along his chest.

"I'd say it's just telling that all the stuff on the telly is tripe."

He was basking in the feel of her hands on his chest when suddenly she struck out of nowhere and began to tickle him mercilessly, hitting every spot guaranteed to make him cry with laughter. She was straddling him now and going in for the kill—his armpits. Spike was laughing so hard he had tears running down his cheeks.

"Kitten, please, I surrender !" he said, gasping for air.

"Nope. Not good enough. You have to say 'Buffy is not only the most pleasant person I know, she is also the Queen of Sneakyness'."

She gave a triumphant smile.

"Why is it that you're not even the least bit ticklish? This is so unfair! What else do I get if I make your little speech?" he asked, teasingly.

"Just lucky I guess. What do you want?" she asked, a little puzzled and nervous.

Spike grabbed her arms. "Now that I've got you, I think for pain and suffering you should give us a kiss." He smiled up at her and said his lines, "Buffy is not only the most pleasant person I know, she is also the Queen of Sneakyness. Now, where's my kiss?"

Buffy was sitting astride him and could feel the evidence of his arousal between her thighs. This did nothing but stir her own. She leaned down and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, tasting wine and cigarettes. His mouth opened and she took that as an invitation to explore with her tongue, which he sucked on gently for a moment before the kiss grew hungry.

The sounds she was making were driving him crazy. He unwittingly arched into her heat and she ground down on him.

He kissed her neck and whispered in the shell of her ear, "Oh, Buffy, your skin's so soft. My beautiful girl."

His hands moved from her arms to her waist. One hand travelled up to cup her breast, and Buffy moaned low in her throat. Spike's mouth was back on hers as the kiss intensified. He squeezed her breast, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, wishing it were his mouth. He felt Buffy pulling back and he stopped.

"This is so wrong of me," Buffy said. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a tease. I just get carried away when I'm with you. You deserve better than that."

She put her head in her hands as if she were going to cry.

"There's nothing wrong with what we feel, and there's nothing wrong with you wanting to take things slowly. You're not being a tease. You told me up front how things were, and I understand. I'm afraid you're stuck with me. Can you handle that? I'll even sleep on the couch like I promised."

She looked at him a smiled with tear-filled eyes. "I believe I can. I'm not throwing you out of your bed, and I don't think I could bear to sleep in Anne's room."

"Good. Now I'm going to get the rest of your things from the car, and then we can get to bed. That sound good? You think you can stay on your side?"

He hoped to hell he could.

"I'll try my best. Thank you. I'll see you upstairs."

Buffy awoke to the sound of the alarm, her head pillowed on Spike's chest, one arm draped around his waist, and her leg thrown over his. Spike's arm was around her shoulder, so she couldn't move without waking him.

Spike stirred, grumbling something about ''bloody alarms," and reached out with his free hand to turn it off. Then he turned on his side, pulling her with him.

"Morning, love. Did you sleep well?" he asked, kissing her forehead.

She nuzzled her cheek against his chest and stifled a yawn. "I did. I can't remember the last time I slept so well."

Spike tipped her chin to meet his eyes. "Me either. I loved waking up to you. I'd forgotten how amazing it was. I want to thank you for last night. I don't think I could have managed it here alone. Everywhere I look, I see reminders of her, but when you're here it makes things tolerable. You make me forget for a few moments sometimes."

Buffy ran her fingers through his tousled curls. "I loved waking up with you too. You don't have to thank me. I wanted to be here—with you. I think we've been able to comfort each other. I can't be here without thinking about her either, so I can't begin to imagine what it must be like for you."

She moved her hand to cup his cheek as she continued. "I'm so sorry, Will. Those words just seem so hollow and inadequate, but I don't know what else to say. I promise to help you get through this any way I can. I…I care about you too, and I hate to see you in pain. I just want to make things better for you," she said, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

He pulled her closer. "Love, that means more to me than you know. Did you notice you called me Will? I don't think you've called me that since I changed my name during my punk rebellion phase and it just sort of stuck. I remember you refused to call me Spike for a long while, but you finally came around. I like hearing you say it though. It's nice. It feels intimate."

A little smile crossed Buffy's lips and a faint blush tinged her cheeks.

"I like it too. Maybe it's the room," she said, rubbing random patterns on his chest. "I couldn't begin to count the nights I've spent with you in this room as a child, when you still had twin beds and would let me crawl in bed with you because I was afraid of the dark or worried about something. I don't know what I would have done without you and Anne. You gave me so much."

"Poor lamb, Mum always had enough love for the both of us, and I was happy to have you here, even when we fought. Though I don't remember us fighting very much. Do you?"

Buffy sat up and met his gaze. "No, I think we got along pretty well for a five-year-old boy and girl. You know what though? It's time for us to get up and face the music. Do you want the shower first, while I start breakfast?"

She put her head back on his chest, awaiting his reply.

"No, you go first, and I'll start breakfast. It'll take you longer to get dressed than me." He tapped her on the shoulder, and when she looked up he gave her a quick kiss and said, "Up you go, kitten! I've got breakfast to make."

Buffy seemed surprised by his almost chipper attitude.

Spike watched her gather her things and head into the bathroom. "Don't take too long or your eggs will get cold."

He was so grateful she was there to guide him through these murky waters. He knew today was going to be rough, but just knowing she was with him, gave him strength.

Who knew what the rest of the day would hold.

When she came down, she was still wearing her pajamas and her hair was wet.

"I didn't want risk getting food on my dress, and I thought I could dry my hair while you were in the shower," she said, taking a seat at the table as he handed her a cup of coffee.

"I hope you don't mind." He flipped an omelet onto a plate. "The butter, toast, and jams are there on the table." He put the plate down in front of her and kissed the top of her head. "Eat up," he said, before taking a seat beside her.

Once breakfast was done and the dishes cleared away, they went back upstairs to get dressed. Spike went to shower, while Buffy dried her hair, applied her make-up and dressed in the bedroom.

Buffy was putting her earrings on when Spike came of out the bathroom, buttoning his trousers. His shirt still unbuttoned and his tie was around his neck.

He saw her in the mirror and was taken aback by how beautiful she looked in her black wrapdress. Her honey blonde hair fell in loose waves and her make-up was light. She was a vision. He went to her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her back to his chest. "You look beautiful," he whispered in the shell of her ear. "I have some things I need to give you.

Buffy turned to stare at him.

Spike went to his bedside table and retrieved a small velvet pouch, emptying the contents in his hand. "These are yours now."

Buffy walked to him on unsteady feet and peered into his hand. "I…I don't know about this. I somehow feel like I'm disrespecting her by wearing her things to her funeral," she said, wringing her hands and looking away.

Spike caught her chin and brought her gaze back to his. "Love, you're not disrespecting her or her memory. She asked me in my letter to make sure you had them, and you should wear them. They're yours now."

"Are you sure about this? Especially, the ring…I mean it's been in your family for like three generations!" Buffy's eyes were wide as she gestured to his hand.

"I'm positive. I think Mum made the perfect decision. I agree with her whole-heartedly," he said pulling her into the safety of his arms. "Now is everything all right?"

"Yes, I'm sorry for being so weird about it, but it just threw me a bit. I'll be proud to wear them." She pulled back and gave him a watery smile.

Spike held her right hand and slid the beautiful, two-carat, emerald-cut ruby and diamond ring on her ring finger. It was a perfect fit. Next, she turned and held up her hair for him to fasten the small bee charm pendant. He took her to the mirror to show her how it looked.

"See. It looks lovely on you," he said. The sparkling silver was a beautiful yet understated contrast to her black dress and tan skin.

Buffy turned and kissed him softly. "Thank you. Now let's get you ready," she said, as she began to button his shirt. When it came time to tie his tie she said, "You're on your own here. I'm afraid I've never done this before."

"No worries. I think I can handle it. You can watch for future reference if you want."

She watched intently, and when he was done she helped him straighten it. The sapphire tie made his eyes seem a deeper shade of blue, almost like a stormy sea.

He donned his suit jacket and asked if she was ready. For a moment she was awestruck by just how handsome he was. She'd never seen him in a suit before. He cleans up well! She thought.

"Yes, I'll drive," Buffy said, grabbing her clutch and keys. "I think it might be easier if I did."

"That's fine. Let's go." He took her hand as they walked out the room.

Once at the church they were ushered into a room at the front sanctuary until time for the service to begin. The priest came back to assure them that everything was in place and let them know people had begun to arrive. He said someone would come to retrieve them when it was time for the service to begin.

Spike sat uncharacteristically quiet in the small room with Buffy beside him.

"Spike, is there anything I can do make this better for you right now?" Buffy squeezed his hand.

She could see by the blank expression on his face that this was becoming a reality for him now. The full magnitude of what had happened was finally hitting him. He really was sitting in this room, waiting for his mother's funeral to start.

Suddenly his expression changed. His eyes widened, his mouth opened, but no sound came until he looked at Buffy and whispered, "Oh my God, my Mum is really gone! What am I going to do without her?"

He began to weep in earnest, loud, pitiful sobs.

"Shh, I'm here," Buffy said, taking him in her arms. "I know, and I'm so sorry. I wish there was a way to make it better, but there's not. I can only promise you that I will be with you through this."

She opened her clutch and handed him a tissue, which he gratefully accepted.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I hope I didn't get snot on your dress."

Buffy smiled at his lame attempt at humor. "No, my dress is fine, and it wouldn't matter if you did."

"Thank you. I know I keep saying it, but I truly mean it, and there's no telling where I'd be right now if it weren't for you."

"You really do have to stop saying that, mister. It's getting old, and you'd be fine. You're a strong man. I have faith in you. I'm honored to be here with you, and there's no place else I'd rather be than by your side right now."

Someone knocked on the door, and Buffy answered. One of the vestry members told her it was time. She looked at Spike and he nodded, grasping her hand. They walked out into the vestibule and proceeded down the aisle toward the front of the church, Spike keeping his head down. Buffy noticed on the way in that the church was packed full of people. Once they arrived at their appointed seats they sat, Buffy putting her other hand over the hand he was holding.

At the front of the church was single arrangement of salmon colored calla lilies, the mahogany box containing Anne's remains, and silver picture frame holding a photo of her. Before the priest began the actual service, he took a few moments for the eulogy.

"Anne Jameson was a beloved member of our parish for twenty-four years. She was a loving mother and a devoted friend. She could always be counted on when needed. For twenty-three years, she saw to the health and well-being of residents of Pinecrest Retirement Home, and after her retirement she volunteered weekly at our soup kitchen for the homeless and underprivileged. Her son, William, requested I read this poem by Christina Rossetti entitled 'Remember Me When I Am Gone'"

Remember me when I am gone away.
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand.
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me: you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had.
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than you should remember and be sad.

Spike and Buffy held onto one another and wept quietly throughout the proceedings. When the service was over, someone from the vestry led them to the back of the church so the other mourners could pay their respects on the way out.

Familiar faces and others unknown greeted Spike, but they had one thing in common. Anne had touched all their lives in some way. Buffy never left his side.

Joyce was the last to offer her condolences. Buffy needed to talk to her about the arrangements for the wake at the house, so she asked Spike to speak with the priest and see if there was anything further to do. He kissed her cheek and headed toward the front of the church.

Buffy stopped short. She was startled by the angry scowl on Joyce's face.

"Mom, what's the matter?"

"How can you even ask me that? I thought I taught you better than to be so tactless! Wearing Anne's things! And to her funeral for heaven's sake! What gives you the right to do something like that?"

Buffy's temperature rose as her mother spoke to her. You thought you taught me to have more tact! That's rich. You'd have actually had to have been there to teach.

"Anne willed them to me and requested I wear them. I'm honoring her wishes, and if you think that's being tactless, I really don't give a damn!" she said, as she took Joyce's arm and pulled her to the side. "This is incredibly difficult for Spike, and if you can't act like a grown-up, then you don't need to come to the house. Just tell me what I need to know about the caterers."

Joyce was seething now. Her jaw was clenched, and she was speaking a little too loudly, while wagging her finger at Buffy. "Oh no, I don't think so. You can't keep me away. I see what you're trying to do, but it won't work. He left you eleven years ago. What makes you think he's going to stay now?"

Buffy stood rigid, her cheeks blazing with heat and tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Just then Spike walked up. "Kitten, what's the matter?"

Before Buffy could answer, Joyce spoke in an overly kind voice, "William, it was such a lovely service. Buffy and I were just going over the catering arrangements. She's not too happy about some of the choices I made, but everything will work out. Won't it, sweetheart?" She looked pointedly at Buffy.

"Sure everything will be fine, Mom. We'll see you at the house." Buffy looked at Spike wearily.

"All right, I'll see you there," Joyce said.

Buffy stepped up to him and put her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder to hide the tears that were threatening to spill. "Hey. How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing all right at the moment. You're the one I'm worried about. What was that about? Because I know it wasn't the catering." He hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head.

"I really don't wanna talk about it right now. There'll be people at the house soon, so we need to go. I promise to tell you everything later." She gazed up at him, hoping he would agree.

His lips grazed hers and he said, "Let's get out of here."

They drove in silence for most of the way to Anne's house, until Spike spoke.

"What should I do with these once we get back to the house?" he asked, gesturing to the box and the photo. "I…I mean should I put them out of sight or on the mantle? I don't have sodding clue! Jesus, I'd kill for smoke about now!"

Buffy reached over and squeezed his hand. "I think the mantle is a fine place. Don't worry. Things are going to be fine. I won't leave you stranded with people you don't know, and I'll have brilliant excuses to get you away from those you don't like," she said, smiling, hoping to make him less anxious.

When they arrived at the house she took the photo and the ashes and gave him a quick kiss. "You go have your smoke, and I'll go inside to set these up. People will be arriving soon."

He stroked her cheek and kissed the tip of her nose. "All right, love, will do. See you inside."

Buffy opened the door and at first thought she was in the wrong place. Then again, she did remember saying something to the effect of "I'll leave it up to you" to her mother, but this was insane. The living room furniture had disappeared to God knows where. Tables were set up with china and crystal, and there were floral arrangements on every surface, waiters, and a full bar set up in the corner.

Still holding the ashes and the photo, she went in search of the caterer, repeating to herself, "This is not his fault."

She found him in the kitchen, ordering the staff around. "Hi, I'm Buffy Summers. You spoke with my mother about the arrangements…?"

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Summers. I hope everything's to your satisfaction. Your mother said Mrs. Jameson was a very special woman and no expense was to be spared."

Inside Buffy was fuming. She gripped held the frame and the mahogany box until her knuckles were whiteher hands behind her back as she clenched and unclenched her fists, putting on her cheeriest smile and praying he wouldn't notice how insincere it was.

"Thank you for your condolences, and yes, that sounds exactly like my mother. You've done exactly as she asked, thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to check on someone."

Buffy opened the back door only to run into Spike's chest.

"Hey, there was no need to come searching for me. Did you think I might do a runner?" He smiled down at her, noticing she still had the things with her. "What's going on? Why haven't you put those on the mantle?"

His brow furrowed as he caressed her arms.

"I know. I was coming to warn you of certain changes in the house since we left this morning." She looked at him, biting her lip and playing with the pendant around her neck.

His cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head. "Just what sort of changes are we talking about?"

Buffy looked away and crossed her arms. "Remember when I told you Mom said she would take care of everything? Well, she did all right, and it looks like a fucking wedding reception! The caterer said she told him to spare no expense!"

She was crying now, and her voice was so high he was barely able to understand her.

He went to her and put his arms around her. "Hush, now, you didn't do this. This was all Joyce. You're right, Mum wouldn't have wanted such extravagance, but it's what we've got, so let's go inside and put these on the mantle, yeah?" he said, wiping her tear-stained cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

"Okay." She tucked one arm through his. "But don't say you weren't warned."

As they walked through the house, Spike remained silent until they reached the living room.

"Bleeding hell! This takes the bloody cake! Where's the furniture? Did furniture fairies take it away?" He put his hand over his open mouth, bringing it down to rest on his chin. His eyes were the size of saucers as he continued on his tirade. "Mum would have another heart attack if she saw all this shite! A bar — a full sodding bar! You were right. Doing a runner doesn't sound like such a bad idea. People are going to think I planned this for a simple woman like Mum."

He was pacing now, running his hands through his hair and gesturing wildly.

Buffy placed the photo and box of ashes on the mantle and went to him. She put her arms around him, forcing him to stop his frantic motion. She ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and gave him the hint of a smile. "I know this is horrible, but we have to stick it out. We can give full credit to Mom for the lovely arrangements. That totally lets you off the hook."

He pulled her close, inhaling her scent of orange blossoms, calmer now, but still tense with anger. "You're right, but you'd better not leave me alone with your mother. I'd like to strangle her about now."

Buffy didn't have time to respond before the door bell chimed and they went to answer it, welcoming each guest as they arrived. Everyone told him how happy were to have known his Mum, and if he didn't know them they told him how they knew her. They needn't have worried about letting people know who made the arrangements. Joyce was more than happy tell anyone who would listen how she had meticulously planned every last detail.

Spike saw faces old and new and heard amusing anecdotes about Anne. He was glad to meet these people and hear their stories, to be given a small part of her he hadn't known.

Later in the afternoon, he stood and excused himself from the table where he and Buffy were sitting with four of the nurses Anne had worked with. They had known Spike and Buffy since they were children and were regaling them with tales of mischief they used to get up to at the retirement home. Some things they remembered and some they didn't.

Spike stood. "Ladies, if you'll excuse me, I think I could do with a bit of fresh air."

Buffy followed shortly after, not missing the way the four women looked at one another and smiled knowingly.

She found Spike on the back steps with a beer and a cigarette, and she sat down next to him as he exhaled a billow of smoke. "How are you holding up? You seem to be enjoying yourself."

He stubbed out the cigarette. "Yeah, it's been nice having all these people share stories about her—things I didn't know."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I enjoyed it too. Being out here reminds me of when we were little, and she would throw tea parties on the patio for us. How she would read Shakespeare for children to us. I remember The Twelfth Night was my favorite and yours was The Tempest. She always made me feel so smart."

He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "I think The Tempest was my favorite because it was the shortest, truth be told. However it did have that rotten Caliban, and he was good for a laugh." He took a sip of beer and swallowed. "You are smart. I'm glad she made you feel that way. She never patronized us. She knew what we were capable of and expected it. God, I'm going to miss her!" His voice broke as he said the last words.

Buffy leaned up and kissed his cheek, tasting the salt of his tears. "I know, Will. I'm going to miss her too, her teaching me how to cook, our Saturday afternoon get-togethers…everything about her. But I can't begin to imagine what it must be like for you," she said, reaching out to take his hand in hers and gently kissing his knuckles.

He brought her hand to his lips and did the same. He had never loved her more than in that moment, but he knew better than to say it.

"You know, I rather envy you for all the time you had with her these last eleven years. I don't mean that the way it sounds. It's just you were able to be a part of her everyday life, while I was away pursuing my studies then my career. Sure, I spoke with her at least once a week and we visited regularly, but it wasn't enough," he said, lowering his head.

Buffy touched his cheek. "Look at me. You have nothing to regret. Your mother loved and adored you. She wanted you to be happy. You need to focus on the positive things." She rubbed soothing circles on back and caressed his knuckles with her thumb. "That's what she would want you to do, and you know it. I think it's time we went back inside. Don't you?"

They entered the kitchen as the caterers were cleaning up. Spike saw all the hors d'oeuvres and other food left. It was such a waste, and it made him sick.

"Buffy, what about all this food? There's enough here to feed a small country, and it's a shame for it all to go to waste."

A smile crossed her face and she said, "I have an idea. Nancy — she worked with Anne at the soup kitchen — works with some other organizations as well. I'll bet she can take it, and I know she's still here. I'll be right back."

"That's a brilliant idea, kitten. It's exactly what Mum would want." He hugged her and tapped her on the tip of her nose.

Nancy was getting ready to leave with a group of others when Buffy introduced herself and told her the situation. Nancy told her she knew of several shelters that would be happy to have the food. Buffy hugged her and thanked her.

"I'll let you know when we have it all packed up. Someone will help you carry it to your car."

Joyce stopped Buffy on her way into the kitchen.

"Well, sweetheart, what did you think of everything? Wasn't it lovely?" Joyce asked, clearly expecting praise.

Buffy's voice was calm, and her gaze didn't quite meet her mother's. "It was beyond anything I could have imagined." Buffy continued on into the kitchen leaving Joyce standing there smiling.

When she entered the kitchen Spike knew something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "How did it go with Nancy?"

"Oh, great! She's happy to take it. We just need to have them box it up and take it to her car."

"Okay, so why have you folded and refolded the same napkin four times since you came back? Spill." He stilled her hands with his own.

"It's nothing, just Mom. I've managed to avoid her all day then she finally cornered me wanting praise. It took all I had not to go off on her." Her cheeks were scarlet and her lips were set in a thin line.

He leaned down and whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "Listen to me. This is almost over. Then we have the whole house to ourselves. I might even nick something from the sodding bar, who knows! We could get right pissed. Maybe there could be some heavy petting involved?"

This made her chuckle. "Come on, you, deviant! Let go say good bye to the rest of the guests and get someone to help Nancy with the food."

After all the guests left and the 'furniture fairies' set the living room to rights again, Joyce was still there.

"Buffy, dear are you ready? I'm sure William is very tired. We should let him rest."

Spike came over and put his arm around Buffy. "Actually, Joyce, I've asked Buffy to stay on for a while. I'm perfectly fine," he said, walking her closer to the door. "Thank you for coming and seeing to the arrangements. Have a nice night."

Joyce tried to protest, but Spike shut the door firmly in her face.

"You have no idea what kind of lecture I'm going to get for that, William Jameson."

"Am I worth a lecture?"

She tilted her head to the side and pretended to think for a minute. "Maybe. It depends."

Laughing, he swung her around to face him. "On what?"

She stood on tiptoe and giggled as she whispered in his ear, "That's for me to know and you to figure out."

"Now who's the deviant?" Spike swore he could see the devil dancing in her hazel eyes. "I think you should be careful. You might find yourself in dangerous territory."

Buffy gazed up into the depths of his intense blue eyes. "What if I'm ready to live a little dangerously?" Smiling, she ran her finger down the length of his tie.

Spike stilled her hand. "Buffy, we don't have to this. But if we do, I'll still be here for you. There's really no danger."

Spike could see the hurt flash in her eyes before she looked away. He knew he'd said the wrong thing.

Buffy stepped away from him and put her hands on her hips. "Why do you do that? It's not fair you know? You can't make me any promises about being here. Hell, you don't even live here! I can't be anything more to you than a little fling." She started pacing, gesturing wildly with her arms. "I want to be with you, but knowing nothing can come of this and you telling me otherwise is more than I can take."

He went to her and grasped her hands in his. "Look at me. You don't know a bloody thing about what I can and can't do or exactly how I feel about you. You need to take a seat and hear me out."

He led her to the sofa and she sat looking up at him, until he knelt in front of her, placing his hand on her thigh.

"You could never be just a fling for me. It's true, I have an apartment and a job in New York, but you're where I want to be. You're my home Buffy. Where ever you are is where I want to be. I'm not saying this to scare you or pressure you, and you don't have to say it back, but I love you, and I always have."

Spike bowed his head, terrified he'd said too much, when he felt Buffy tip his chin. He looked up to see her smiling through her tears.

"I never thought I'd hear you say those words to me again. What you said just now, all of it, do you mean it?"

"Every syllable," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

She bit her lip then a beautiful smile lit her face. "Will, I love you too. Now, do you think we could maybe go upstairs?"

Spike scooped her up from the couch and into his arms as if she were lighter than air. "Whatever my lady wants, she shall have."

Spike's words echoed in her head, filling her with a sense of giddy anticipation. He said he loved her, and although there were many questions about what it meant, she knew they could wait.

Spike toed open the door to his bedroom as Buffy nibbled on his earlobe and loosened his tie. "Mm, that feels nice," he said.

Buffy unbuttoned his dress shirt and slipped her hand inside, running her palms over his undershirt-covered chest. "It would be a lot nicer if you weren't wearing so many clothes."

"I think that's something you could help me with," he said, as he set her down facing him and slid both shirts off with ease.

Buffy cast an appreciative glance over Spike's muscular chest and abdomen before kneeling in front of him. She deftly unbuckled his belt and cast it aside, then she divested him of the rest of his things quickly. His cock bobbed against his abdomen once free from the confines of his boxers. Buffy took it in her hand and gently brought it to her mouth. Spike gave an appreciative gasp of pleasure. She started to lick the underside and stroke his balls.

"Christ, Buffy! That feels so fucking good!" Spike ran his hands through her hair, lost in the moment.

Buffy continued her ministrations, taking the head into her mouth and sucking gently.

"Mmm, God! You're driving me crazy," he said, moaning the words. "But I want you up here." He took one of her hands and tried to pull her up.

She bit her lip and smiled up at him. "But I like it down here. I'm having fun."

Spike gave her a devious smirk. "I can tell, and I'm enjoying it myself, but I promise there'll be more fun if you come up here."

Buffy stood, pulling his head down to kiss his face. She tried to put all her emotion into the kiss, to let him know exactly how she felt. It was sweet and fierce at the same time. She broke away from his mouth and charted her way down his neck, devouring it with kisses before he stopped her.

"Uh-uh, no more touching for you right now. It's my turn. Turn around."

Buffy turned and swept her hair off the nape of her neck.

Spike unzipped the dress, brushing the soft material off her shoulders, letting it pool in a heap at her feet. He kissed her between her shoulder blades before walking around to stand in front of her, tracing a line from her collarbone to the stiff peak of one hardened nipple covered in black lace.

Buffy closed her eyes and shuddered under his touch. Her heart was beating so rapidly she wondered if he could hear it. Every cell in her body was on fire.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "No, don't close your eyes. I want you to see everything I do."

In one swift motion, he unclasped the front of her bra and tossed the garment away, freeing her breasts. He took one in each hand, massaging them and tugging on the nipples with his thumbs and forefingers.

"Does that feel good, kitten?"

"Yes…more…harder!" Buffy said, her knees threatening to buckle.

Spike swept her into his arms and laid her down on the unmade bed. Leaning down he took one breast into his mouth, nipping and sucking then laving it with his tongue. His other hand charted a slow trek downward.

"Oh, fuck! That feels so good!" She grabbed his hair and pulled him closer.

Spike could barely remember her swearing, much less using that particular word, and his cock swelled impossibly harder. With his finger he drew idle circles around her navel, sometimes dropping below to trace the waistband of her panties.

"Mm, I love hearing you tell me how I make you feel," Spike said, when something occurred to him that he hadn't thought of before. He felt his cheeks grow even warmer from embarrassment. "Love, what about—I mean, I don't have any condoms…"

Buffy shushed him with a finger over his mouth. "It's okay. I've been on the pill for years."

A wave of relief flooded his chest. "Oh, thank God! I thought I was going have to run to the bloody convenience store."

"No, we're fine." She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, pulling his head down and kissing him hungrily.

When his lungs started burning from lack of oxygen, he pulled away to pepper her face and neck with kisses. "I can't believe I'm here with you like this, and you still love me." He nipped her collarbone and moved into the valley of her breasts.

"Mm, I'm right here, and I never stopped," she said, between cries of pleasure. "I need you to touch me."

Spike swirled his tongue in her navel, causing her to cry out and arch off the bed. He took that opportunity to remove her panties. He pressed a small chaste kiss to her mons before kneeling between her thighs and opening her up for his appraisal. Spike lay down in front of her, grasping her bottom to pull her closer.

"Such a beautiful pussy," he said, licking her from bottom to top, ignoring her clit. He swirled his tongue around her opening before he delved inside, darting his tongue in and out. Hearing Buffy's moans of pleasure he increased his pace until she cried out and arched off the bed, her internal muscles quivering around his tongue.

He removed his tongue and replaced it with two fingers, then started sucking on her clit. Buffy let out a raspy groan and grabbed at his hair. She was amazingly tight, and Spike curled his fingers upward to find that place inside he knew would send her over the edge. He scissored his fingers and sucked on her clit, and Buffy thrashed around beneath him, moaning loudly. He put his hand on her abdomen to hold her to the bed.

"Oh, Jesus, Will! I'm gonna come!" she said between panting breaths. Her internal muscles gripped his fingers in a rhythmic spasm.

Spike lapped at her juices as she came. He was awestruck by the sight of her. She tossed her head back and forth in ecstasy, murmuring endearments he thought would never pass her lips. When she stilled, he crawled up the bed and took her face in his hands.

"Oh, my God!" She lifted her head and kissed him.

Spike opened his mouth to receive her tongue as she explored the cavern of his mouth. She wrapped one leg around him and forced him onto his back, pinning his hands above his head.

"It's my turn to play now."

She grinned mischievously as she busied her hands exploring his chest, pinching and twisting his nipples. She abandoned his mouth, nipping and licking her way down his neck to his chest. Spike moaned and babbled incoherently. Buffy bit down lightly on one nipple while her hand wandered further south to his erection. She gripped his cock firmly and started pumping it slowly from root to tip.

"Love that," he said. "Need to be inside you!"

"I think I can do that." She positioned herself over him, rubbing his erection through her slick folds, coating him with her juices.

"Feels so good, love."

Buffy pressed the tip of his cock to her opening and began a slow descent, easing herself onto his girth.

Spike fought hard not to slam his hips upward. "Take your time, there's no rush. Mmm, so warm and tight." He reached up to tweak her nipples.

Buffy slowly took more of him in, squeezing her inner muscles around him as she pulled almost all the way out. She repeated the motion until she had all of him inside her, feeling whole for the first time in years. She set about moving her hips in a figure eight, and Spike thrust up from the bed to meet her. All the while she strangled his cock with the clenching and unclenching of her inner muscles.

"Jesus! I love seeing your tits bounce as you ride me."

Buffy leaned back, bracing herself on his thighs as her hair brushed his knees. This angle brought him deeper inside making her feel almost dizzy with pleasure. "Harder… faster…oh, God!"

Spike held her hips tightly. "I can do that," he said between breaths, and reached up to rub her clit in a slow tortuous motion.

This sent her screaming over the edge, and the spasms of her inner walls combined with her cries of delight sent him falling over seconds later. Afterward, Buffy collapsed on top of him in a tangled mass of arms and legs. When she tried to roll away, he pulled her closer.

She gazed down at him and smiled, kissing his chin. "I must be squishing you, and I'm hungry."

"You're not squishing me, but if you're hungry, I suppose we could go down and raid the kitchen."

"That sounds like a plan," she said, getting out of bed and slipping on his white dress shirt.

"With you going around dressed like that, I can't promise not ravish you," he said, as he pulled on a pair of boxers.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing? I'm all covered." She stared at him with her brow furrowed.

"Yes, but you're wearing my clothes, and that makes it sexy." He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her neck.

"Come on you. There will be no more ravishing of me until I've had food. Understood?"

She broke away from him and gave chase out of the bedroom toward the stairs, laughing all the way.

He caught her on the third stair. "Gotcha!"

"Maybe, but you have to feed me first."

He slung her over his shoulder caveman style and gently slapped her on her bare bottom.

She beat her fists against his back in mock frustration. "You know you're gonna pay for that, right?"

When they reached the kitchen he flipped on the light, set her down on the counter and tried to turn away, but she caught him with her legs.

"Oh no." She linked her arms around his neck. "We have to think of a suitable punishment for you." Her eyes danced with mischief.

"Oh, really? What, pray tell, would that be, love?"

Buffy could tell by his tone he thought she was kidding.

"What would you say if told you to drop your boxers right now and let me smack your white rebellious ass?"

Spike looked her straight in the eyes and hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers.

"Stop! You seem a little too eager to do that. Do you like that sort of thing?" Buffy's brows rose, her curiosity piqued.

"In the right situation I do. There's nothing wrong with it. What's done between two consenting adults is never wrong or dirty as long they both enjoy it. Do you have a problem with me liking it?" He took a step back, as if challenging her.

Buffy sighed. "Come here."

Spike walked to stand between her thighs again and she caressed his cheek, making his gaze soften.

"No I don't have a problem with your liking it. It just threw me a little. I'm willing to try new things with you. I trust you, and I want to make you happy. I'll just have to figure out some of other form of punishment for you. One that doesn't make you hard." She nipped his lower lip and squeezed the erection pressing between her thighs. "Now, I believe we came down here so you could feed me."

He turned and rummaged through the fridge, finding a bottle of champagne left by the caterers, and fixings for sandwiches. Once the sandwiches were made and plated, he grabbed a bag of chips from the cupboard. Buffy found two glasses and picked up the champagne.

He pulled her into his arms for a toe-curling kiss before taking the sandwiches and chips off the counter. "Are we ready to go back upstairs?"

"Wow! I believe we are." She hopped down and proceeded up the stairs, with Spike following behind her. "After I'm fed, maybe you can teach me a few new things."

Spike, having lost the power of speech completely, followed behind her silently.

Buffy sighed and moaned, barely awake, memories of her most delicious dream still fresh in her sleepy mind. She and Spike were in his bed, and he was doing things to her body and making her feel pleasure in ways she'd never thought possible. Something tightened around her abdomen and tickled her shoulder, making aware of where she was. Spike was pulling her closer and planting kisses on her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she smiled and put her hand on his, pressing back against his erection.

"Morning, sleepyhead. Did you have a good rest, or did I wake you from an important dream?" he said, nipping her earlobe.

She turned in his arms, running her fingers through his tousled curls. "No, I was just waking up, but it was less of a dream and more of a reenactment of last night." She felt herself blush as she spoke the words.

"I can't believe you're blushing after last night, Miss Maybe-You-Can-Show-Me-A-Few- Things." He squeezed her bottom for emphasis.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing? Some of us have things to do today."

"I was enjoying the feel of your lovely biteable ass. I didn't think you'd mind." He was making his way down her neck toward her breasts.

Buffy pulled his head up to meet her gaze. "I've got to go into work today, at least for a while. Let's have some breakfast and go from there. Okay?"

She gave him a quick kiss and got up to find her dress.

Spike was disappointed. He'd thought they'd spend the day together, but he realized she did have an obligation to her job. He was being a selfish prat, and she didn't need to worry over his insecurities. He was sure she had enough of her own, so he got up and pulled on his boxers and a t-shirt so they could head downstairs.

Buffy started the coffee, while Spike searched the contents of the fridge for breakfast.

"I think I can whip up some omelets with some sausage and cheese, and there are some English muffins and orange juice too," he said, closing the fridge with his hip, his hands full of ingredients.

Buffy came over to help him with the food. "Sounds yummy! The coffee will be ready soon. Can I help you with anything? I don't want you to do all the work." She hooked her arms around his waist and kissed him between his shoulder blades.

Spike turned and pulled her into his embrace. "Sure, love. You can get the eggs ready while I cook the sausage. How's that sound?" He kissed the tip of her nose and swatted her bottom, shooing her away.

"What's on the agenda for you today?" she asked, smiling while she cracked the eggs.

"Well, I thought I would start planning our trip, if it's all right with you. I think we should do it in the next two to three weeks. Don't you?" He waited for her reply as he strained some of the grease into a bowl and set the sausage aside, turning to face her.

Buffy's expression showed the least bit of hesitancy. She'd stopped whipping the eggs and seemed lost in her thoughts as she chewed on her bottom lip. "Um, I guess…if that's what you want. I can ask Benny about it today."

Spike turned her cheek, so she would meet his gaze. "It's not all about me, kitten. You have a say in this as well."

He took the eggs from her and poured half in the pan.

"I understand that. I really do, but I'm just still a little…I don't know how to describe it. Plus, there's telling Mom I'm going, and that's so not a conversation I want to have."

She walked over and put her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his back.

Spike turned in her arms and brushed her hair off one of her shoulders. He gazed down into her eyes hoping to convey his emotions clearly.

"I meant what I said. If you're not ready, then we don't have to go yet. I just think I should at least give some thought to our plans. I don't have to make any reservations, and as for your mother, I'll gladly tell her for you. However, I think that's something you need to do for yourself. I think it would make you feel better to stand up to her, and tell her how you really feel. It can't be good for you to keep taking shit from her time and time again."

Buffy stepped away so he could flip the omelet onto a plate and turn off the stove.

"No, I do want to go. It's facing my mom that bugs me," she said, chewing her bottom lip and leaning against the counter with her arms folded. "She won't be happy, I'm sure, and I don't feel like getting into it with her. She always manages to make me feel small and inferior."

Unshed tears glistened in her eyes.

Spike went to her, and she unfolded her arms to embrace him, her head resting on his chest.

"Buffy, love, listen to me because you need to understand what I'm saying. You can't be responsible for Joyce's feelings. Pardon me for speaking ill of your mother, but she's always been a selfish bitch when it comes to you and your needs." Buffy put her arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"She puts on an act of being this caring loving person, but if that were true she'd not have done half the things she's done to you, and what she did yesterday made me see exactly what she is." Spike felt her body shake with silent sobs.

"She knew my Mum for twenty-four years, there's simply no way she could have not known Mum would have been horrified by the show she put on here, but she did it to take credit for herself and no other reason." Buffy held him tighter, soaking his shirt with her tears.

"You are so much more than she is! You should never allow her to make you feel small or inferior again. You have more kindness and love in your little finger than she does in her entire body. I want you to stand up for yourself. If you want me to be by your side when you do, I'll be there, happily. I love you so bloody much, and I don't plan on losing you again." Spike brushed her hair away, lightly kissing her temple.

She gazed up at him with tear-stained cheeks, then leaned up to kiss his chin.

"That's very chivalrous of you, but I think it's something I have to do own my own." She poked him in the chest. "And I believe you have another omelet to make. I'll get you a cup of coffee and toast the English muffins while you do that. Okay?"

She went to the cupboard and found two healthy sized mugs, filling each with coffee making sure to make his just the way he liked.

While Spike made the omelets, he thought of ways to tell her he wanted to spend a few days in New York with her on the way to England and on the way back. He wondered what she would think of the idea. Would she think he was being too pushy? He wanted her to get glimpse of the way he lived, meet his friends, and see if she might be at home there as well. He loved Buffy with all his heart, but he thought they needed a fresh start in a new place that wasn't Sunnydale. He hoped to convince her of this, or better yet, he hoped she'd come to the conclusion on her own. He was taken from his musings by the sound of her voice.

"Spike, don't you think that's done? It's looking a little crispy around the edges."

He plated the slightly crispy omelet and turned off the gas. "Sorry, just living in my head for a moment." He took the omelets and sat down. "Which do you want, crispy or slightly cold?"

He tried to maintain a straight face, but his eyes gave him away. Soon they were both laughing.

"I believe I'll have the crispy one, please," Buffy said in a very proper tone of voice.

"As you wish madam, I'll be happy to eat the cold one. The pleasure of your company is nourishment enough for me," he said, clutching her hand to his heart in dramatic gesture.

Buffy rolled her eyes, pulling her hand away and pecking him on the lips. "Be quiet and eat before I have to get a shovel. It's getting a little deep in here."

She shoved half a toasted, buttered English muffin in his mouth before he could speak.

"I've got get going in a minute. I need to stop at home and change. Would you like to come by for lunch?" She reached over and wiped the crumbs off his face, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.

Spike's eyebrows rose, and he smirked at her. "It depends. Will there be any mocking or abusing of me? If the answer's no, then yess-, I'd love to meet you for lunch and see where you work. Just tell me when."

Soon he was walking her to the door. He had directions and a date to meet her at 11:30.

She pulled him in for a long ravishing kiss and left him with an "I love you. See you at lunch."

Buffy was just about get in her car when she heard her mother's voice coming from down the street. She cringed in spite of herself and thought for a moment she'd pretend she hadn't heard it, but she knew that wouldn't work.

"Buffy, dear what are you doing?" Joyce asked, as she came to stand directly in front of her.

"Hi, Mom, I'm going home to get changed for work. I'm really in a hurry—"

"No, I mean what are you doing at Anne's house in your clothes from yesterday?"

Buffy turned, took a deep breath and summoned all her courage. "I spent the night with Spike, Mom. Is that a problem for you?"

Joyce's shoulders straightened and her mouth formed a thin line. "I thought you were smarter than that, but I guess I was wrong. You know he's just using you." Her tone was as venomous as the look in her eyes. "He probably has someone waiting for him in New York. You're just convenient while he's here."

Rage boiled inside Buffy like liquid fire. She hadn't felt as close to slapping her mother as she did right now.

"You have no earthly idea what you're talking about. He loves me, and I love him. In fact, we're going to England together in a few weeks to scatter Anne's ashes. We're going to make a life together with or without your approval. I'm done here. I have things to do. When you can talk to me civilly, call me, until then, don't bother."

Buffy slammed the car door and drove away. In her rear-view mirror she could see a dumbstruck Joyce still standing there. Buffy felt extremely light, almost giddy. She knew she had a lifetime of things to get off her chest where Joyce was concerned, but she'd just taken the first step.

When Buffy got to work, she found Benny in his office and asked if he had time to talk with her. He invited her to have a seat.

"How are things going? Are you holding up okay?" Benny asked.

"I'm doing better than I expected. William has been a great comfort to me." Buffy picked at some imaginary lint on her skirt.

"This is Anne's son? I didn't think you two were on the best of terms." Benny seemed intrigued by this turn of events.

"We weren't, but we decided to put aside our differences. I wanted to talk to you about taking my vacation time. William thinks we should go in the next two to three weeks. Today's Wednesday. What do you think about two weeks from Monday?"

Buffy could feel Benny's eyes on her. He was one of the most observant people she knew. She crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt for the second time, awaiting his reply.

"Well, Buffy, you know I trust your judgment, and if you trust William to make that decision, then it's all right by me. I shouldn't have any problem getting someone to take your case load for those two weeks, and I wouldn't mind meeting this William either."

Inside, Buffy sighed with relief. "That's wonderful, Benny. You don't know how much this means to me. As for meeting William, he's coming for lunch today at 11:30, so if you're around I'd love to introduce you." Buffy stood and turned for the door. She felt Benny's hand on her shoulder.

"Buffy, I'm glad to see you happy, even though the circumstances weren't ideal. Come by before you head to lunch."

The doorbell rang as Buffy sat at her kitchen table going through her mail. She hurried to get it, knowing it would be Spike. She opened the door to find him standing there, peeking over a heap of food, flowers, wine, dinner, and his duffel.

"Spike, is that you?" she asked, taking some things from him and going into the kitchen.

"Of course it's me, silly bint. Do you have many sexy strangers over, love?"

He set his things down and grabbed her around the waist, nibbling her neck.

"Only every other month or so, but they don't just show up. I have to call the service and request them."

Spike pulled away from her deliciously fragrant neck to stare at her perfectly neutral expression. Her tone was so nonchalant and lack of smile was so convincing, for a second he almost believed her.

"Oh, is that right?" He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I think you are going to pay for that one, Summers!" He nipped her earlobe and swatted her bottom.

"It'll be worth it! The look on your face was priceless. I thought your eyeballs were going to pop out, and if your jaw dropped any further, I'd be picking it up off the floor," she said, giggling.

"Yes, I'm here to amuse. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I'm here all week. Please remember to tip your waiters," he said, smirking and giving a mock bow. "One encounter with Joyce, the Monster Mom has certainly made you saucy. I think I like it."

His eyes danced with mischief as he pulled her back into his embrace.

She stood on tiptoe to give him a proper welcome. "Yep, I've finally reached my crap-taking threshold. So you'd better watch your step too." The last part she said with a smile on her face. "How was the rest of your day? Did you make any plans or do any research?"

He stroked her hair, pulling it off her shoulders. "I did some research, but I didn't want to make any plans without you. I've got my laptop, so we can look online after dinner. Sound good to you?"

"Yep. Would you get the food ready while I put the flowers in a vase and uncork the wine?" She gave him a quick kiss and moved away to find a vase.

"Sure, no problem. I brought tagliolini al prosciutto and eggplant Parmesan. Which do you want? I also got some tiramisu for dessert." Spike put the two desserts in the fridge for later.

"Mm, both sound really delicious. Do you mind if we share?" Buffy took two wine glasses from the cupboard and grabbed the corkscrew from the drawer.

"No, not at all. If you want to put the flowers somewhere, I'll finish this up and pour the wine."

"That's great. I'll only be a minute." She put them on the dresser in her bedroom and went back to the dining room where Spike was setting the table. "God, that looks delicious! Are we ready to eat?"

"Yeah, just let me get the bottle of wine and the bread." Spike disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with both. "Dig in," he said, sitting down across from her. "I can hear your stomach from over here."

"Oh! This is good! Did you go to Bella Rosario's?" Buffy took a sip of her wine, waiting for him to swallow his bite of tagliolini.

"Yeah, it looked like a good place, and Cheryl from your office said it was your favorite Italian restaurant." He rubbed her thigh underneath the table.

"Excuse me, but when exactly were you talking to Cheryl? Did you two have some clandestine meeting?" Her tone was light, but she also felt a little possessive.

"Yes, it was all very clandestine," he said, with an overly serious face. "We met in the elevators on my way out, and I asked her if she knew your favorite Italian restaurant, then we snogged until the doors opened."

"I'm sure you did. Did her mustache tickle?" Buffy tried to keep a straight face, but quickly dissolved into giggles.

Spike was laughing along with her and in between gasps he managed to say, "Oh, it drove me wild! Why doesn't somebody bloody well tell the poor thing?"

Buffy's shoulders were still shaking from leftover giggles. "I don't know! You would think she'd look in the mirror every morning and see it. I mean it's nothing a little wax wouldn't fix. I get my eyebrows waxed all the time, and I even get bikini waxes. And until recently no one even saw my…that part of my anatomy." Buffy's cheeks warmed from what she almost said.

Spike grinned like a schoolboy who'd just gotten away with his first prank. "You are so sodding adorable, you know that? You can't even say the word, can you?" He took a bite of his food and waited for her to reply.

Buffy took a sip of her wine "I'll have you know, I most certainly can say the 'p' word, or any other dirty word I want. I just choose not to." She held his gaze, daring him to defy her.

Spike's eyes remained locked with hers. "I'm sorry, 'can't' was the wrong choice of words. Maybe scared would be a better choice." He smiled evilly.

Buffy knew the game he was playing, and she wasn't going to take the bait. "Don't think I'm not wise to your game, Will. I know very well what you're trying to do, so stop it right now." She leaned over and poked him in the ribs.

"Oi! Stop that, woman!" He feigned offense. "I'm not playing any game, just wanted you to say a word, and it's not dirty." He pouted and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"I'm sorry for poking you, but let's move on to another subject. Okay?" she said, bringing the last bite of her dinner to her mouth.

"All right, agreed, but I will get you to say it. Let's clean up here, and you can get the desserts while I get my laptop set up."

They worked quickly and soon settled on the sofa with their desserts. Buffy had to give him her wireless code in order for him to access the internet, but after that things went smoothly.

Spike's palms were sweaty, and he had a huge knot in his stomach about going over this with her. He wasn't sure how she'd react to spending so much time in New York, but he was about to find out.

"We'll have to fly out of L.A., so I thought we could leave after you got off work on Friday and spend the night and catch a semi-early flight to New York. That would give you a chance to maybe have dinner with Willow. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great, but don't you want to come to dinner with me?" she asked, snuggling into his side.

"Of course, but I wasn't sure if I'd be welcome." He kissed the top of her head.

"Well, if you're not welcome, then I don't want to go. I'll call Willow. I think she'd love to see you. Why don't we look at flights?"

"Okay," he said.

"How long are we gonna stay in New York? I want to meet all your friends, and see where you work and hang out," she said, looking up at him.

He put the computer on the coffee table and pulled her onto his lap, letting out a breath he was unaware he'd been holding. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that, kitten. I've been so nervous about this part… I want us to stay for three days before we leave for England and three or four more before we come back to Sunnydale."

He stroked her back, wishing he could see her face to gauge her reaction, although she didn't seem tense.

Buffy shifted a bit to face him. She ran her fingers through his hair with one hand and cupped his cheek with the other. "That's a week of our trip, but it only seems fair that I spend time in your city… I mean, I've never been anywhere except L.A. I want you to show me everything, not just touristy stuff. I want to see how everyday New Yorkers live their lives, but maybe with some shopping and a little sightseeing. Does that work for you?"

She smiled and leaned in to nibble his lower lip. Spike took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss, gently sweeping his tongue across her upper lip. She opened her mouth, allowing him to continue his explorations. He sucked gently on the tip of her tongue, causing her to pull him closer, and she made whimpering noises that were driving him crazy. Things were getting out of control quickly. He felt her hand scale down his chest to untuck his shirt, but he placed his hand over hers, pulling away from her sumptuous lips to speak.

"Kitten, not that I'm not enjoying the attention, but I think we need to focus on our travel plans for the moment." He gently bit her pouty lower lip. "We need to get this done tonight, so we can lock in our rates. Okay? Afterward I promise I'll give you my full attention," he said, giving her a sexy leer.

"All right, if you insist, but can we still snuggle?" Buffy said, climbing off his lap and settling in by his side.

"Of course we can." He picked up the computer and found the fare they'd looked at earlier. "Here's one that leaves at nine a.m. and gets us to La Guardia at eleven forty-five. We could have dinner with Willow and Oz and stay at hotel near the airport. That sound okay to you? We'll have half the day left once we get home."

Spike realized his slip as soon as he said it, but he hoped she hadn't noticed.

"Sure, sounds great. Let me get my credit card." Buffy started to get up, Spike pulled her back down.

"Oh, no, this is Mum's trip, and it's her treat. She made arrangements for it all, so don't go getting your knickers in a twist over it." His tone was as light as the tap he gave to the tip of her nose.

"Wow, that's just…wow! And for your information, my knickers, as you say, are several things, but twisted isn't one of them," she said, smiling brightly.

"Yes, Mum was very kind, but you, Buffy Summers, seem to have found your naughty streak, and I believe it's about a mile wide." Spike just knew he had her now. There was no way she was going to explain herself out of this one.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. It sounds like you're the one with the naughty streak. I merely meant they were a size four, bikini, pink lace, and have a small bow in front." Buffy batted her lashes and grinned as if she'd gotten a gift card from Prada.

"You have no idea the fates you're tempting, Summers."

"I suggest we get this travel stuff settled, then you can show me," she whispered in his ear.

Spike forced himself to ignore the temptation that was Buffy Summers and focused on finding flights from New York to London.

"Okay. There are no direct flights, but here's one leaving LaGuardia at eleven thirty-five a.m. and arriving at Heathrow at five fifty p.m., with a connection in Boston. Sound good? I have a hotel I want to show you next." Spike quickly purchased the tickets for both round trip flights and waited for an email confirmation.

"Sounds perfect. I can't believe we're doing this. I'm sorry we're going under the circumstances we are, but I'm happy to have the time with only you." Buffy put her head on his shoulder and squeezed his arm.

"We don't have to stay here if you don't like it, but I think it's brilliant, and it's near Kensington and Notting Hill, two great places for shopping. It's called the Fox Club. What do you think, love? Scroll through the photos."

He placed the laptop in her lap and urged her to have a look-see.

"Oh God! It's so…English looking. Did you see these beds? We could live in those, and the bathrooms are great too! I'm sold! You're making all the reservations. You obviously know what you're doing." She bounced on her knees beside like a little girl..

"Let me make these reservations and we can turn in. I can make the ones for Padstow tomorrow, since you seem to trust my judgment so. Is that all right with you?" he said, murmuring the words against her cheek.

"Sure, you've more than proven yourself. I'll leave it all in your capable hands."

Those few words meant more to him than he could say. She was giving him control over something in her life. It was a small thing, but it spoke volumes to Spike.

"I'm all done. Are you about ready to turn in?" he asked, bringing her into his arms for a lingering kiss.

"Yep. I'm just gonna take a shower first," she said, once they parted, her eyes twinkling.

"Is that so? I'm feeling a mite dirty myself. I think I might join you," he said, smirking.

Buffy giggled, and stepped out of his embrace. "Only if you can catch me."

She started running, articles of clothing flying in her wake.

"Hey," Spike said, giving chase. "That's cheating!"

It seemed as though the weeks had flown by, and finally, today was the day. Buffy glanced at the clock on her computer every few minutes, willing the time to pass. Excited was too tame a word for the emotion she felt. She was about to embark on a journey with the man she loved, the trip opening up a whole new world of possibilities for them both. Buffy had never been further than Los Angeles, and she wanted to savor every moment of this trip.

The last couple of weeks had been the happiest of her life, and she couldn't imagine how things could be better. She and Spike spent all their free time together getting reacquainted, and he'd spent every night at her house, since the memories in his mother's home were sometimes too much for him to bear. Buffy jumped as she heard a knock at her door, looking around quickly to tidy her desk, which was empty, save for her computer.

"Come in," she said, trying her best to look busy.

"Buffy, you counting the minutes? I see you've got everything squared away, just as I knew you would." Benny took a seat across from her and smiled.

"Yes. I mean, no. I have everything squared away, but I plan on staying until the end of the day. Is there something I forgot?" She drummed her fingers on the desk and furrowed her brow.

"No, nothing like that. You're one of my best employees, Buffy, and I know you wouldn't leave without making sure everything and everyone was taken care of. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I hope you'll come back to us after your trip is over," Benny said, looking at her expectantly.

Buffy was taken aback by the last sentence. She knew she and Spike wanted a future together, but it honestly hadn't occurred to her that she would leave Sunnydale. Of course, to not even

take it into consideration would be incredibly selfish on her part, but Spike had never mentioned it either. She knew what they'd be discussing on the way to L.A. now.

"Honestly, Benny, William and I haven't even discussed it. The minute I make any plans, I'll let you know." Buffy tried her best to make her tone reassuring, but butterflies of anxiety were dancing in her stomach.

Benny stood to leave. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. It seems as though you have everything here wrapped up, so why don't you go on and head out. I know what L.A. traffic can be like. Have good trip, Buffy. Don't worry about anything here, just enjoy your time away."

He waved goodbye and walked out the door.

On the drive home, Buffy thought about how to broach the subject. She knew he would notice something was up right away, so she would have to tell him. What if he'd already been thinking about it and not mentioned it to her, wanting her to come to her own decision? Should she be angry or grateful? God! This was so confusing!

She pulled into the garage and cut the engine, resting her head against the steering wheel. Why did Benny have to open his big mouth? She'd honestly not even considered it. Now, instead of things starting off light and fun as she'd hoped, they had to have a serious, possibly life-altering conversation. She grabbed her keys and purse, knowing if she didn't go inside soon, Spike would come looking for her. Too late, he'd already heard her.

"Hey, love, I didn't expect to see you home so early, not that I'm complaining, mind you." He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her forehead.

"Benny let me go early. He said with L.A. traffic, we should get an early start," she said, a little too brightly.

"Kitten, there's something you're not telling me. Has Joyce gotten her claws into you again? I swear, I don't care if she is your mother—"

"No, it has nothing to do with Mom. It's just something Benny said at work today, and now I have all these questions…"

Spike led her to sofa and sat her down beside him. "Now, tell me what's got you so upset, so I can make it better, yeah?" He swept a tendril of hair from her face and tipped her chin to meet his gaze.

She gathered all the courage she had and asked, "Where are we going to live when we get back from this trip?" She gazed into his eyes, hoping he would give her the answer.

Spike's eyes widened a bit, and he looked away for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "Well, I was hoping that would be a decision we could make together, but if you want the honest truth I don't think Sunnydale is the place for us. There are too many ghosts and toxic relationships here. I would be willing to look at other places with universities where I could teach and hospitals where you could work, or we could see how you like New York where I already have a job." Spike kept his eyes on hers, trying to gauge her reaction.

"So you'd already thought about it?" Buffy lowered her gaze, picking at invisible piece of lint on her skirt. "That's why you wanted us to stay in New York for so long?" Spike tipped her chin to meet his eyes. He saw her mouth formed in a line and tears threatening to form in her eyes. He took her hand in his, brushing her knuckles with his thumb. "Yes, but I wanted you to make your own decision. I didn't want pressure you into anything, didn't want you doing something you didn't want, just to please me." Spike wiped away the tears that fell, knowing he'd been the cause of them, and he wanted to do anything to stop them. "God knows, you've done enough in your life to please others. I want you to decide for yourself."

Buffy smiled and squeezed his hand as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I can be so blind sometimes. You know, it never occurred to me to think about what we would do after this trip. I mean, I knew I wanted to be with you, but that's as far ahead as I thought. I don't want this to be all about me, though. I think we should make the decision together. That's what couples do, right?"

As she spoke, Buffy wiggled her way into his lap. She traced the outline of his jaw with her fingertip, her eyes on his as if she were awaiting a reply.

"You're not blind, love. You've had a lot to deal with these past couple of weeks, with us getting back together and the hell Joyce has given you. Don't be so hard on yourself. I'm happy you want me to have my say as well. You're right, you know. It should be a decision we make together, because it will affect us both. I knew there were other reasons I loved you other than your knockout body and amazing sexual prowess." Smirking devilishly, he leaned up to nibble on her lower lip.

Blushing, she playfully slapped his chest. "Mmm," she said, backing up. "And just what would those reasons be, pray tell?"

"Your brilliant mind and sense of fairness, of course," he whispered into her ear.

"You know what I think? I think you're up to no good, and time's a wasting. We need to get on the road." She laughed and poked him the ribs.

There was a teasing note in her voice, but Spike knew she was right. Playtime was over. They needed to get on the road now, to make it to the Osborne's before six-thirty.

"Oi, no poking!"

Buffy hopped right up. "Looks like your lap's all free. Now, what's your excuse?"

Spike put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes. "Nothing now, but there will be a lesson later for cheeky girls."

Buffy walked off toward the bedroom to make sure she'd not forgotten anything, her hips swaying gracefully as over her shoulder she called out to him, "Promises, promises."

Spike started loading the car. He was so proud of the woman Buffy was becoming, especially where Joyce was concerned. She no longer allowed her mother to push her around, but he just wished he'd seen it earlier. He wondered if his mother ever truly saw through Joyce's façade. He had to believe she didn't, or she wouldn't have allowed Buffy to have been treated the way she had, and there was no way she'd have been friends with Joyce had she known her true nature. Joyce, he decided, was a brilliant actress. Buffy was just more confident in general, and he was happy to witness it.

In a moment, Buffy came back into the living room with her overnight bag.

"You ready to hit the road? I'm sure we can make it there in plenty of time if we leave now," Spike said, taking the bag from her.

"Yep. I'm all set; just let me make sure everything's off and turn on a lamp, so it looks like someone's home. I'll meet you in the car." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his lips.

He smiled down at her. "Hey! Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

Buffy giggled and poked him in the chest lightly. "Just for being you."

"I appreciate the sentiment, kitten, but there's no need for violence," he said with mock sincerity, turning to leave.

"Just go, you big dope!" she said, swatting his bottom.

"Oi! Name calling isn't nice either. You'd better watch your manners." He mumbled something about payback as he walked to the car.

Once they were in the car and on their way, Buffy began a barrage of questions about his life in New York.

"I know you teach English, but do you teach a specific kind, like American lit or English lit? Do you teach every day? Do you live nearby? What's your apartment like? Do you have a lot of friends?" She squeezed his hand and looked at him as she waited for him to answer.

"Do you need to stop and catch your breath before I answer all those questions, kitten? I don't think you took a single breath between any of them," he teased.

"Oh, sorry," she said, smiling in a self-conscious way. "I guess I just got carried away. It just occurred to me, we've never talked about any of that stuff, and I wanted to know." Buffy bit her lip, her cheeks now tinged pink.

"No worries. I got my undergrad at Columbia and post grad at NYU. I have a PhD. in English with a specialty in British literature. Yes, I live nearby, and I usually ride my bike or walk to classes. Depending on the semester, I teach either, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays or Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I have my office hours on those days.

"I have a two bedroom apartment in the Village. I use the extra bedroom for an office, and it has a futon that I used to sleep on when Mum came to visit. The closest friends I've mentioned to you: Giles; Wesley; his wife Fred; and my old roommate from Columbia, Jack Wall. Giles and Wesley are English. Fred is a Texan, and Jack is an Irishman. Does that answer your questions, or are there more you're dying to ask?" He looked over at her, his eyes twinkling.

"Hush, don't tease me! I'm just trying to gauge what I'm in for." She stuck out her lower lip in a pout.

"What you're in for! You make it sound like the Spanish Inquisition. Everyone's going to love you, and you're going to love them and the city." He leaned over and pecked her cheek. "Just wait and see."

Buffy let go of his hand and squeezed his thigh. "I'm sure everything's going to be fine. You know it's just a little nerve-wracking for me. I mean, I'm going to be in a new place, with all new people. A place that might become my home too, and I want these people to like me.''

Spike was beyond thrilled to hear her voice her contemplations. He wanted to pull to the side of the road and kiss her senseless. He guessed telling her would have to do for the moment.

Spike took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "Kitten, if they're even a quarter as enamored of you as I am, and I'm sure they will be, you haven't a thing to worry about. Could I hear that part again about it maybe becoming your home too? God! I want to stop this car and shag you six ways from Sunday!"

Buffy giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. "Jeez, Will! That was such a lovely thing to say right up until the shagging me six ways from Sunday part."

"Well, I'm sure they'll be plenty of time for that later, and I'm ever so sorry to upset your delicate sensibilities." He stroked her hair and kissed her temple.

"You're such a goof!" Buffy said, smiling, before kissing his cheek.

They continued to talk about his life in the city as they drove. Spike tried to prepare her as best as possible, but he knew she was in for a major culture shock.

Soon, they were headed into Long Beach and the GPS gave them directions to the Osborne's home. They pulled up in front of a charming Cape Cod-style bungalow with slate gray siding, white trim, and an inviting red door.

Spike turned to Buffy. "Now I'm the one who's nervous. Red's not gonna come at me with a broken bottle or some such is she?"

Buffy looked at him as if he were insane. "I've told you this about a million times! She knows about us, and she actually encouraged me to make the first move with you! Stop being a baby, and get out the car for God's sake!"

He stuck out his lower lip and gave her a kicked puppy look. "Take back the name and give us a kiss, and then I'll get out."

Buffy mocked his pout and sighed. Her tone was one of insincere reproach. "If that's what it takes to soothe your fragile ego, I guess I can do it. I'm so very sorry to have called such a virile man as you, a baby. Please, forgive me for my thoughtless words." Then she proceeded to lay one hell of a kiss on him.

When the kiss ended, both were out of breath, and he was as hard as a rock.

Smiling, Spike said, "You know what? You're a real piece of work, Summers. Your saucy mouth and your saucy tongue have put me in an awkward position." He took her hand and placed it on the bulge in his jeans.

"I'm sorry. Think of something gross, or stand behind me. If we don't go in now, she'll be coming out soon."

"Okay, I've got it. Your mother trying to mack on Mr. Woodward down the street."

"Eww, gross and poor Mr. Woodward!" Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought.

Together, they walked hand-in-hand up the steps, and Buffy rang the bell.

Before the doorbell could finish its chime, a vibrant, smiling Willow opened the door and held her arms out for a hug. "Oh my, it's so good to see the two of you!" she said, embracing each of them. "Come in, come in!"

Willow opened the door wider to let them pass and closed it behind them. Hiding behind her linen skirt was an angelic looking toddler with a halo of auburn curls and sparkling green eyes like his mother.

Buffy noticed him right away. "Hi, Lewis. I see you hiding behind Mommy. Do you think you could come out and give your Aunt Buffy a hug? I think I might even have something in my bag for you." The child's eyes brightened at that, and a smile lit his face. "Would you like that?"

He nodded his head enthusiastically and ran toward her. Buffy scooped him up in her arms for a hug and kiss. "Wow, Lewis! You're getting to be a big boy! Soon, I won't be able to pick you up," she said, using the teasing voice Lewis liked.

"Who's that?" Lewis asked, pointing at Spike, the present forgotten for a moment.

Turning to Spike, Buffy said, "This is my friend, Spike."

The boy looked curiously at Spike, then whispered a little too loudly, "That's a funny name, Aunt Buffy."

"Oi, are you making fun my name mate?" Spike grinned to show he was teasing. "It's not my real name, but it's what my friends call me. Would you be my friend, Lewis?"

Lewis looked at his mother as if to get her approval.

"It's all right, sweetie. He's a good guy. I promise." Willow smiled and squeezed Spike's arm.

Lewis seemed to take his mother at her word. "You sound kinda like Kipper. Wanna watch him and Tiger with me?" Lewis said, scrambling down from Buffy's arms.

Spike looked to Buffy as if he might be in over his head.

"Wait Lewis, don't you want to see what Aunt Buffy brought for you?"

"Yes, please!" He laughed and began to jump up and down clapping his hands.

Buffy knelt down and handed him a gift bag from her large purse. "Here you go. I want you to open it right now, so I can see if you like it."

Lewis took the bag from her and ripped the tissue away to get to the prize at the bottom. His eyes grew wide as he reached inside and pulled out a plush Kipper and Tiger. Holding one in each chubby hand he hugged her around the neck.

"Thank you, thank you! This is the best present ever!" He looked to Willow. "Mommy, see what Aunt Buffy got me! Aren't they cool?"

"Yes, I can see Aunt Buffy's made your day. Why don't you take Spike to the den, and you guys can watch Kipper? Aunt Buffy and I will be in the kitchen. Okay?"

Buffy could see the wariness in Spike's features. She walked over to him and put her arms around him.

"What? Are you afraid of a two, almost three-year-old boy? He doesn't bite you know. He only does that on rare occasions." Spike's brows arched almost to his hairline. "I'm kidding. He's just a little kid, so there's nothing to be nervous about. Just be you, and he'll love you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but not before you nearly scared the pants off me! Have I told you lately how much I love this feisty new you? Not that I didn't love you before, but Jesus, you do know how to keep me on my toes now!" He kissed her sweetly and went to take Lewis by the hand, ready to be led to the den.

Buffy turned to see Willow grinning ear to ear.

"Come on into the kitchen. I want details, missy! You two couldn't look happier! Lewis should keep him busy for a while," Willow said, putting her arm around Buffy and ushering her into the kitchen.

As they came into the kitchen, Willow motioned for her to have a seat on the small sofa overlooking the deck.

"Oh Wils, we are happy! I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life!" Buffy said, her face radiating the happiness she felt.

Willow poured them a glass of wine and came to sit next to her on the sofa.

Handing Buffy her wine, she said, "I can tell. You're practically glowing! Now that the boys are busy, I want all the yummy details, Miss I-Barely-Find-The-Time-To-Call-My-Best-Friend."

"Well, I really don't know where to start. I took your advice and went over the next day, and things were kinda awkward at first, but the minute I saw him I knew I still loved him, and that scared the hell out me. I wanted to turn and run screaming in the opposite direction!" Buffy laughed as she laid her head back against the sofa, taking a sip of wine.

"I already know that part, but what's been going in the last few weeks? I've barely heard from you until you called to say you were coming. You told me he said he loved you, and that you and Joyce had it out, but I don't know much more than that. I'm feeling all neglected." Willow put a pillow under chin and stuck her lip out in a pout.

"I'm sorry, we've just been getting reacquainted, and I've been working. We've spent a lot of time planning this trip...among other things." Buffy blushed and lowered her lashes.

Willow laughed. "I'm sure it's the latter that's taken up so much of your time. Buffy, I'm glad you've been enjoying yourself. No one deserves it more than you, but have you thought about after all this is over? I mean, what's going to happen? Are you just going to go your separate ways?" Willow reached out and put her hand on Buffy's knee, her eyes shining with worry.

Buffy sat up and took her friend's hand, rubbing her thumb across the top.

"Oh, sweetie, don't worry. Whatever happens, Spike and I will be together. He says he's not leaving me, and we're going to make a life together. We haven't decided where, but maybe in New York. We've both decided Sunnydale is not the place for us."

Willow's green eyes grew wide, and her whole face beamed with a smile. She put her arms around Buffy, careful not to spill their wine.

"Oh my God! That's the most amazing news, and I'm so happy for you!" Willow said, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"Wils, you're kinda cutting off my circulation," Buffy said.

"Oh, sorry. I'm just so thrilled for you! When are you getting married?"

Buffy's eyes widened and her brow furrowed.

"I don't think I said anything about getting married. Did I?"

"Well no, not exactly, but that's what people usually mean when they say they want to make a life together. Isn't it?" Willow tilted her head to the side and smiled. "I mean haven't you given it the tiniest bit of thought?"

Buffy pursed her lips and tried not to smile. "Maybe a little…but I think it might be too soon to go rushing into things like that. Will's never mentioned it, and I'm certainly not going to bring it up!"

"Oh, I think Will is thinking the same thing you're thinking. He just doesn't want to scare you. I saw the way he looks at you. I may be an old married woman, but I'm not blind. That man worships you! And too soon? You've known each other since you were five for goodness sake! You've been in love with each other forever! Need I go on with exclamations?" Willow waved one of her hands and rolled her eyes for emphasis.

The phone rang, and Willow got up to answer it.

Buffy could hear peals of laughter coming their way. Spike entered wearing a fireman's hat, a bit too small for his head, with Lewis slung over his shoulder. Buffy's shoulders shook with laughter at the sight before her.

"Mommy, Aunt Buffy! Look at me! Spike's a fireman, and he's rescuing me!" Lewis said, in a voice so loud and excited he was nearly shouting.

"Wow, Lewis! What's Spike rescuing you from?" Willow asked as he righted himself in Spike's arms.

"He saved me from a fire! And I jumped out a window!" Lewis' eyes were wide, his cheeks rosy from all the laughter.

"Not exactly a window, more like a chair. I had to talk him out of trying to climb up to the mantle. He's like three for the price of one, Red." Spike put Lewis down and wiped his brow, walking over plop down beside Buffy.

"He certainly can be at times, especially in the late afternoon and early evening. Did you two have fun?" Willow propped her elbows on the counter and grinned cheekily.

"Oh yeah, he's a great kid! Very smart, funny, and certainly verbose, unlike his father. I've never been around kids, so I was a little apprehensive, but we got on brilliantly. What have you two been doing in our absence?" He put his hand on the back of Buffy's neck and pulled her in for a kiss, but his hat got in the way.

"Not that I don't love fireman Spike, but I think that hat's a bit small for you. Maybe we could buy you one of your very own," Buffy said, taking it off and kissing him as chastely as possible.

"Ha, bloody, ha. You think you're so clever don't you?" He tapped her on the end of her nose. "I might just do that. You never know when there might be a damsel in distress." He arched his eyebrows and gave her a sexy smirk.

"Okay, guys, honestly, I might go into a diabetic coma if the sweetness doesn't stop." Willow rolled her eyes. "I've got bad news and good news, which do you want first?"

"Bad," they said in unison.

"When the phone rang earlier, that was the babysitter cancelling, but the good news is Oz will be here in about fifteen minutes, and we can order in. Sound good?"

"Great," said the two on the sofa.

"All right, that makes it easy then. There's a great specialty pizza place not far from here that delivers, and I've got their menu, or we could do Chinese or Thai. What do you think?"

Buffy and Spike looked at Lewis, who was bouncing on his toes calling for pizza.

"I think pizza sounds like a great idea, Red, and you know the place, so you choose the pizzas. We're good with anything but anchovies. Aren't we, love?" He pulled her closer and kissed her temple.

"Sure Wils. Is there anything I can help you with? I feel like a lump just sitting here, not doing anything." Buffy smiled and squeezed Spike's thigh.

"Nope. I've got everything under control. I'll open another bottle of wine, and I'll order dinner. Spike would you like a glass?" Willow got out the menu and another bottle of wine.

"I'd love one, thanks. Hey mate, why don't you come tell Aunt Buffy about all the fun things we did?"

Spike noticed Willow was beginning to look a little frazzled as Lewis continued to dance around her and hang on her legs, demanding attention.

"Okay," he said.

Lewis came bounding over and into Spike's lap. He began to talk animatedly about all the fun they had together, the video they watched, and how Spike played fireman with him.

Buffy's eyes twinkled, and she smiled at him. "I'm glad you like Spike, Lewis, but you never play those games with me." She pouted.

"That's 'cause they're boys' games, not girls'. Girls don't want to play that stuff."

"That's not true, Lewis. A girl can be a fireman if she wants to be, and I'm sure your mommy and daddy would agree with me." Buffy had a look of defiance on her face, but her tone belied it.

"Girls just want to be mommies and play with dolls or be princesses." His tone brooked no argument.

Buffy looked defeated.

"Cheer up, Buff. He's just at that age. That's what he thinks, and no amount of talking will change his mind. Believe me. I've tried, and it's a lost cause." Willow shook her head and handed Buffy and Spike their drinks.

Willow sat down in the chair near the sofa and dialed the number to the pizza place. About the same time, they heard the click of the lock on the front door, announcing Oz's arrival. He came in looking much the same as he did in high school, minus the various hair colors, dressed in jeans, an indie rock t-shirt, and jacket. Lewis abandoned Spike and ran for him.

"Hey, little man. Had a good day?" Oz carried him into the kitchen, seeming to take in every word he said. "Hi, all. It's good to see you Buffy, Spike. I was sorry to hear about your mom, man."

"Thanks, I appreciate that, and it's good to see you too. You've hardly changed." Spike stood to shake his hand.

"I'm still me," he said, leaning down to give Willow a kiss. "So what are our plans?"

"We're staying in and having pizza delivered from ZaZa. Sound okay?" Willow smiled up at him and stroked his cheek.

"Yep." Oz sat on the arm of the chair with Lewis still in his arms.

"Hey, Lewis, why don't you go play with your toys until the pizza gets here, so Daddy and I can visit with Aunt Buffy and Spike? Okay?"

He smiled and hopped down from his father's lap, running off to play, and Oz stood to get himself a glass of wine.

Oz came back, and Spike began to ask him about his job in Artists and Repertoire for an independent record label. Soon they were talking about music, and Willow and Buffy were lost.

They seemed thankful when doorbell rang, announcing the pizza delivery.

While Spike insisted on paying for the pizzas, he and Oz brought them into the dining room. Buffy and Willow brought plates and forks in from the kitchen, and by then Lewis was already in his seat at the table.

Everyone dug in, enjoying the meal. Willow asked Spike if he was looking forward to their trip.

"Yes, I think we both are. It will give us some time just to be alone with no worries, and it's a beautiful country with lots things to see and do." Spike brushed his thumb across Buffy's knuckles underneath the table.

Buffy squeezed his hand in reply. "I agree, but I also can't wait to visit New York. I want to meet Spike's friends and see what it's like." She looked at him and smiled.

"Yes, Buffy was telling me you two are going to make a life together. Do you think it will be in New York?"

Spike was surprised by Willow's boldness, and he thought perhaps it was the wine talking.

Spike tried to be as concise as possible. "Yes, we do plan on spending our lives together, but we haven't made a decision as to where yet."

At the end of the table, Lewis asked the question no one dared ask, "Spike, are you and Aunt Buffy getting married?"

Silence, a beat, then Oz spoke, "Out of the mouths of babes."

Buffy sat in her seat, tapping one of the armrests with her nails. Her left leg seemed to have a mind of its own and wouldn't stop shaking. Last night had been a nightmare of catastrophic proportions, and Spike had been behaving strangely since Lewis uttered the horrific question.



Willow tried her best to smooth things over, but nothing could be said or done to undo Lewis' question. Buffy felt as though she'd turned as bright red as the sauce on the pizza and lowered her head to keep Spike from seeing her face, hoping she wouldn't give anything away. Spike just laughed and said, "Only if she'd have me." What the hell was that supposed to mean? Damn it, she was getting pissed off, and this was not a good way to start off their first day in his home or his city.



She took a deep breath and tried her best to calm her nerves while the plane prepared for descent into La Guardia. Take-off had been bad enough without the strangeness of Spike's behavior making it a most uncomfortable trip. Now she was simply terrified. It was her first time flying, and the sensation of falling as the plane circled for landing was overwhelming. She gripped Spike's hand until her knuckles were white.



"Love, are you all right? I know you're scared, but everything's going to be just fine. Trust me." He leaned over and turned her cheek to meet his eyes. "Would it help if we snogged until we landed?"



"Oh, shut up!" Buffy said, slapping his hand away. "I'm terrified, and you're making jokes."



"No need to get shirty, kitten. I wasn't making fun of you. I'll do anything you want to keep your fears at bay."



"Shirty? What does that even mean? I swear! Where do you come up with these things?" Buffy glared at him, trying hard not to smile.



"It means, pissed off, out of sorts, and see, I've taken your mind off of things by making you all shirty. Though I think it would be much more fun to have a snog." He smirked mischievously, his blue eyes sparkling. "What's it gonna be? Huh?"



"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, putting her hand on her chin pretending to think about it. "I think…I'll go with the latter."



She grasped the back of his neck, her fingers twining into the curls at the nape, and pulled him in for a kiss. Spike's lips were warm and soft as they touched hers. He swept his deliciously talented tongue across the seam of her lips, requesting entrance, and she responded without encouragement. The kiss deepened, and they became oblivious to everything and all around them, until Buffy heard a distinct clearing of someone's throat and felt a light touch on her shoulder.



Buffy broke the kiss and pushed Spike away. They looked up to see a handsome young flight attendant smiling down at them.



"I'm sorry to disturb you, but we're going to be landing in less than five minutes. Everyone needs to be secure and facing forward," he said. Leaning down, he winked and whispered to Buffy. "I don't blame you, honey. You're one lucky girl."



Buffy giggled at his candor. "Thanks, don't think I don't know it."



When Buffy looked back at Spike, he was staring at her with his head tilted, and his eyes narrowed a bit.



"Care to fill a fella in on what that little exchange was about?"



"Oh God, are you jealous? Did we travel back in time to junior high?" Buffy bit her lip to keep from laughing.



"No, I'm not. I just don't like it when other blokes are chatting up my lady," he said, thrusting his chin up defiantly.



"Well, I hate to burst your bubble Mr. Testosterone, but he was only telling me what a lucky girl I was. It seems he thought you were a hottie." Buffy patted his thigh reassuringly.



"You know I have been told I'm rather handsome, but I'm strictly a one woman man." Spike teased, kissing her on the tip of her nose.



"I'm so glad to hear that! I thought if I told you, you might change your mind and leave me to pursue other options," Buffy said dryly and rolled her eyes.



Spike laughed heartily. "Aren't you the saucy one? I have to say, I find it incredibly sexy."



Buffy grinned, leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Maybe you can show me just how sexy you think I am, once we get to your apartment."



They'd been so busy with their banter, they hadn't realized the plane had landed, and it was now time to de-plane. Buffy got up first and began to get her few things from the overhead compartment. The plane was not full and they were flying first class, so there was no sea of bodies in front of, or behind them.



Spike stood closely behind and lightly pinched her bottom. "I'll do my best. Now, let's get out of here and get our bags. I can't wait to get you home."



She turned her head and flashed him a smile as she ground her bottom into his crotch. "I couldn't agree more."



They arrived at the baggage claim, and although Spike didn't have much luggage, Buffy was another story.



"Did you bring your entire sodding wardrobe with you?" Spike asked as he looked around for a cart to put all the bags on.



"I'm getting tired of hearing you go on about the amount of luggage I have. I didn't know what to prepare for, so I brought a little of everything. I've already told you, I won't take this much to England, so zip it!" She hadn't meant it to sound as harsh as it came out, so she put her arms around his waist, and apologized.



"It's all right. I know I've been a stupid sod, teasing you so much. Didn't mean to drive you round the bend though." He held her tight and kissed the top of her head. "Let me go get a cart, then we can get a taxi."



Buffy was glad his mood had changed, but she could tell he was still keeping something her. She had no proof, but she was going with her gut. She was off in her own world when he came back with cart for the luggage.



"Buffy, love, you in there? I called your name three times before you answered me." He took a step toward her and embraced her, looking down at her with a furrowed brow he asked, "You're not still angry over the luggage thing are you?"



"No, no. Don't be silly. I guess I'm just shocked to be standing here at all." She looked down at the buttons on his shirt, not meeting his eyes, hoping he wouldn't catch her in her lie.



"Great!" He took her hand in his and with the other one pulled the cart to the curb and grabbed a taxi. "Love, get in, and I'll help the man with our things. I won't be a minute."



Buffy got in the back seat of the older black Mazda, where the scent of patchouli was so overpowering, she nearly gagged. The musky sweet odor seemed as though it was embedded in every surface of the car. Spike opened the door and scooted over next to her, putting his arm around her. "You look a little green around the gills, love. You feel all right?"



"Mmm-hmm. How long of drive is it to your apartment?" She was trying as hard as she could not to breathe through her nose.



"I'd say about twenty-five minutes or so, depending on traffic. You'll get to see a lot of the city on the way in though. You'll like that, I'd imagine."



Buffy laid her head on his chest and took a deep breath of Spike to drown out the scent of patchouli, and it was heaven. "I can't wait. Everything's so busy and noisy. I've gotta say this is major culture shock."



He kissed her cheek and touched his forehead to hers. "I figured as much, but where I live it's not nearly as busy and noisy. You'll see."



They turned off East 34th Street onto Park Avenue South and Union Square East, headed into the East Village. Buffy was amazed by all the buildings and the people. It was literally a whole new world.



Spike pointed to a building on his left. "That's where I work, and we're almost to my apartment, just a few more blocks."



The taxi double-parked in front of a charming gray stone building with a black awning. "Are we finally here? Which one is yours?"



"The gray stone one with the black awning. You go on, and I'll see to our things." Spike got out on the other side and went to help the driver.



Buffy immediately got out of the car and took several deep, cleansing breaths. She walked to the trunk, where they were unloading the luggage.



"Will, I'm more than happy to carry my share. I don't want to you to have to make three or four trips just to get all our things." She gave him a genuine smile and started picking up bags.



Spike paid the fare and brought the rest of the luggage to the stoop. "Hold on, kitten, just have to get my keys." He opened the door to a marbled entryway with a wrought iron staircase. "I'm on the third floor. Sorry." Buffy thought she might burst into tears. "Okay, here we go," she said, heading toward the stairs.



"Or we could use the elevator," Spike said, smirking at her expense. "It's tiny, and we might have to make two trips but—"



"You've got to be kidding me! I rode all the way here with Mr. Patchouli, and you lie to me about walking up three flights of stairs with all these bags!" Her voice was almost at a level only dogs could hear, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.



Spike looked at her as if he was dumbstruck and maybe about to cry himself. "Jesus! Bloody Hell! I need to keep my fucking mouth shut, because I just keep saying the wrong sodding thing at every turn today." He took her in his arms and kissed her hair. "I'm so sorry, Buffy. I'm just so nervous about…never mind. I'm sorry, and I won't tease you anymore today. I swear."



She pulled back from him and cupped his face in her hands. "It's okay. I may have over-reacted just a teeny little bit. But honestly do all cabs smell that bad?"



He threw back his head and laughed. "We were in a great smelling cab compared to some I've been in. Now, let's get our things upstairs. The elevator's this way."



All their belongings fit into the small space, and they rode up to the third floor. After a short walk down a narrow hallway, Spike stopped to open a door and ushered Buffy into his apartment. It was not what she'd expected. Mahogany hardwood covered the floors and a large wool area rug of simple design, tied the living space together. One wall was exposed brick while the others were plaster painted in warm, neutral colors. Buffy could tell he liked clean lines. The furniture, a sofa and two club chairs in rich, tobacco-colored leather, was of classic yet modern design. The row of windows covering one wall brought freshness into the space, while the opposite wall of bookshelves, filled with records, cds, and books, brought character and hominess.



"This is fabulous, Will!" Buffy said as she circled the room, soaking up the feeling of it. "It really suits you." "I'm glad you like it. I've only lived here about two years. They'd just renovated the building when I moved in, so everything's updated, kitchen and bathroom. I even have a little balcony off my bedroom. You want the tour, or do you want to rest for a bit?" He put his hands in his pockets, swaying from foot to foot and waiting for her answer.



"Of course I want the tour," she said, hooking her arm through his. "Lead the way."



Spike led her through a doorway off the living room.



"First off is the kitchen. You can see how well it's been decorated. I don't cook a lot, so I mainly just heat things up in here and make tea or coffee in the mornings."



The granite counter tops were bare, and the stainless steel appliances looked new. The barely-used look of the kitchen was charmingly spoiled by the 1950's dinette set in the corner. The table with a red enamel top and four matching red chairs looked as though they had been well-loved by someone and were little worse for the wear, but still in decent shape.



"This is great! I love the dinette set. It reminds me of the one at your house when we were kids."



"Yeah, that's why I got it. I saw it in a thrift store one day and couldn't pass it up. I didn't realize how many happy memories I associated with that table until I saw it. You know happiest memories I have of that table? Being with you and Mum."



Spike hadn't meant to get sentimental over the damn table, and now he felt like sap.



"Oh, Will, that's the loveliest thought," Buffy said, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "We'll have to make use of this table from now on, in honor of Anne. Now show me the rest, please."



Spike took note of the way her words spoke of their future together and felt a little better. It gave him hope that he hadn't shot the day to hell.



They headed out of the kitchen and down the hall, which provided access to a bathroom in the middle and two bedrooms on either side.



"That room to the left is my office. It's where I do all my research and grade papers and such. Here's the bathroom," he said, flicking on the light.



It wasn't huge, but it wasn't tiny either. The floor was glossy black tile and a stark contrast to the white fixtures.



"I see my favorite thing about this bathroom already," Buffy said.



Spike pulled her against him, enjoying the feel of her closeness. "What might that be?"



She leaned back against him, looking up. "The tub. It looks big enough for two, and a lot of fun."



He pulled her hair off her shoulder and nibbled her ear. "I think that's something we can definitely look into. Only one room left. You ready to see it, kitten?"



"I believe I am. Lead the way." She turned in his arms, and took his hand, and he led her into his bedroom.



The color palette in the bedroom was different from the subtle neutrals of the rest of the apartment. The walls were painted a steel gray, though they still gave a sense of warmth. The king-sized bed was mounted to simple black wrought iron headboard and covered by a duvet patterned in blocks of rich jewel tones.



"What do you think? Do you like it?" He hoped he wasn't putting too much pressure on her.



"I love it! It's warm and inviting. Makes me want to snuggle up with you right now. How does that sound?"



She came to him and put her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him. When he leaned down and pecked her cheek, she looked astonished.



"Buffy, I—there's something I wanted to ask you first, and I'd rather we did it in the living room, if you don't mind."



Buffy's eyes were wide with surprise, and her brow furrowed, but she did as he asked.



"Okay, I'll do whatever you need me to do. This seems very important to you."



He led her to the sofa and sat beside her, taking both her hands. "Before Mum's memorial, I gave you her jewelry, and I said the ring was her grandmother's."



Buffy nodded, but didn't look as if she knew where this was going.



"Well the truth is, it was her engagement ring. Mum was supposed to give it to me when I was ready to be married. Mum was a smart lady and a crafty one at that. She knew I still loved you, and I think she was just giving us the shove we needed. In spite of what happened last night, I'd intended on doing this. Buffy, I've never loved anyone but you, and I want to spend the rest of my days showing you how much. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"



He gazed at her beautiful tear-stained face as tears streamed down his own.



Buffy's whole body was shaking, her mouth opened in a perfect "O" as if she were on the verge of speaking, but couldn't. She took her right hand from him, took off the ring and put it in his hand and closed it. "Will, I love you more every day, and I can't imagine a life without you in it. So yes, I would be honored to be your wife."



Buffy moved to kiss him, and he met her half way. Spike thought it was the sweetest kiss they'd ever shared. He moved back and took her left hand and placed the ring on her ring finger, just where it belonged.



"So what do we do now? I want to call everyone I know, but I also wanna shag you senseless." Spike kept touching her face, her hands, as if to confirm she were really there.



"I vote for the latter," she said, smiling as she wiped tears from her cheeks. "But first we're taking a bath. I can still smell that damn patchouli!"

Spike set his phone down on the bedside table after texting tonight's plans to Giles, Wesley, and Jack. He looked down at his gorgeous fiancée, her head cradled on his right arm, her left arm and a leg draped across his body. She smiled and moaned his name in her sleep, stirring his arousal instantly, but he didn't want to awaken her.



He stared at the ring now on her left hand, and he couldn't believe all that happened in the few short hours they'd been in New York. If someone had told him six months ago he'd now be engaged to Buffy Summers, he would have laughed in his face. Leave it to his mum, even in her final hours, to know exactly what he needed.



Buffy yawned and stretched, arching her back against his arm. Her hand caressed Spike's chest and drifted southward, while she leaned forward and captured his right nipple in her mouth, rolling it to a hard peak with her tongue.



"Mmm, love, that feels good. Thought you were sleeping," he said, running his hand down her back, pulling her closer.



"Shh, I'm busy," Buffy said, grinning as she wrapped her hand around his erection. "Don't you know it's impolite to interrupt someone when she's trying to concentrate?"



She continued her explorations, kissing and licking his chest and stroking him with artful precision.



"I think it's safe to say, I'm the one having concentration problems, love," he said, his breath growing ragged.



Buffy gave him a coy smile as she slid down his body without stopping her strokes. She engulfed his cock with her mouth at a tortuously measured pace, licking, sucking, and never halting the movement of her hand.



"Oh, fuck! Buffy, mmhm." Spike pulled her hair into a loose ponytail in order to watch her. "Just like that, yeah. Christ, you're amazing!" he said, his hips gently thrusting.



Buffy moaned around him, as though she were having the most decadent dessert. Her vibrations and his voyeurism sent him over the edge, roaring her name before he fell back against the pillows with an irrepressible grin on his face.



Buffy smiled at him and rose up onto her knees. "I'm guessing you kinda liked that, huh? See, good things happen when you let me concentrate."



"Just get your smart little ass up here and give me a kiss," Spike said, wearing a silly grin as he reached for her. "You've rendered me almost useless."



Buffy climbed into his waiting arms, touching her nose and forehead to his. Buffy moved to kiss him gently, but before their lips met, Spike flipped them, so they she was now at his side, staring into depths of his eyes.



"Oh! What are you up to? I'm hungry, and you promised to take me to lunch, remember, before the shower, the—the sex, and the nap." She blushed and poked his chest playfully.



A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. "You're adorable! Instead of all talk and no action, you're the antithesis. You just gave me the most amazing blowjob of my life, but you can barely say the word 'sex.' I bet it got you hot, didn't it?"



He trailed his hand up her leg and dipped his fingers down to the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs, finding them saturated with her arousal. "I love to know that pleasuring me turns you on. Lie back, and let me take care of you now," he said, his tone soft yet commanding.



Buffy let her legs fall open to his questing hand and pulled him down for a heady kiss, her tongue darting out meet with his, engaging in a seamless dance.



Spike traced her outer folds with tenderness, purposefully avoiding her clit.



"Mmm, feels so good. Need more!" Buffy arched against his hand, frantically trying to gain the much needed friction to find her release.



Spike peppered her neck and collarbone with kisses and nips. "Tell me what you want, kitten, and I'll give it to you." He smirked as a he sucked an erect nipple into his mouth.



"Oh, God! Fingers, I want your fingers, please!" She was past the point of caring what she said. She only knew what she wanted.



"That's my good girl." Spike rewarded her by slipping two fingers inside her and curling them upward to her special spot, pumping slowly in and out.



Buffy gyrated in time to his thrusts with equal force. "Ungh, harder, faster! Please!"



Spike continued as he nipped and kissed her breasts. He could tell she was close as he felt her walls begin to flutter, so he reached up and pinched her clit, sending her over the edge.



"Oh, Will! Oh, my God!" Buffy lay in a boneless heap, trying to catch her breath. "That was—I love you!"



He looked down into her lovely green eyes. "I love you too, Miss, soon to be Missus," he said.



Buffy blushed and smiled back at him. "I don't know about you, but I think we need a shower before we go anywhere, and I mean separate showers, just for safety's sake. I think we probably reek of something else now."



He tapped on her nose and gave her a chaste kiss. "I think you're right. Two showers coming up, then I promise I'll feed you. I can't have my woman starving."



Spike looked at the clock and noticed it was a quarter to four. "I hope you don't mind, but while you were napping I texted my friends about meeting us for drinks at six-thirty, so do you want to get something light now and eat dinner later or the other way around?"



Buffy sat up, pulling the sheet with her. "If we go out, we won't leave here for at least another hour, and that only really gives us an hour and a half to find a place for dinner, eat, then meet your friends. Why don't we just order something in now and have a snack later?"



He walked over to bed and sat down beside her. "You're absolutely right. Ordering in is the best solution. Tell you what, I'll hop in the shower, and you go take a look at the menus—second drawer to the left of the sink in the kitchen. See you in a bit, love."



He gave her a lingering kiss, reached down and retrieved his towel from where it had so carelessly been left earlier, and strode out of the bedroom.



Buffy appreciated the view as he left the room. His body was truly gorgeous, so well-muscled and lean, she wondered if…. Nope, she wasn't going there. She was starving, and she needed to look at those menus damn it!



Buffy got out of bed, pulled on one of Spike's t-shirts, and padded into the kitchen. She pulled on the drawer, which seemed to be stuck at first, so she pulled a little harder. The drawer flew open, and she saw why she'd encountered such difficulties. There must have been a menu from every delivery place in the Village. Thai, Mexican, Indian, Pizza, French, Italian, Chinese, Sushi, American—you name it, Spike had it.



Buffy looked at the drawer full of menus with wide eyes. She stood there with one foot hooked around her calf in a stork pose, while she chewed on her bottom lip. What she really wanted was a big juicy burger with lots of bleu cheese and bacon, but she had no idea where to begin to find it, and she felt silly for wanting a burger when there were so many other things to choose from. While she flipped through the endless menus, two arms banded around her waist, and Spike's chin came to rest on her shoulder. She could feel his damp skin through the thin cotton t-shirt. He obviously hadn't taken the time to dry off properly.



"Somebody doesn't know how to use a towel," she said in a teasing tone, turning around to face him. "Do you ever cook? There's like a menu in there for every freaking country in the world! There're so many things to choose from, and all I want is a burger and fries. Do you happen to know where we might find that?"



Her stomach rumbled at the thought of a juicy hamburger and crisp, salty fries.



"Why yes I do, kitten, but it's just easier to eat out when there's only one of me. I know the best place to get your burger, because it's one of my favorites," he said, plucking a green and yellow menu from the top of the pile. "If a burger's what you're after, this is your place. Choose whatever strikes your fancy, and I'll order while you're in the shower. It's not too far away, so it should be here quick. Fortunately, the first item on the menu was exactly what she was after. Stomach growling, Buffy handed the menu back to Spike and headed for the bathroom, unsuccessfully dodging a swat to her bottom.



Buffy took a look in the mirror before turning on the shower. Her hair wasn't in such bad shape after all, nothing a brushing and some rollers couldn't fix. After turning on the shower, she went to the counter to search her toiletry bag for a ponytail holder. She quickly secured her hair and stepped under the hot spray, smiling when she saw Spike had put her body wash and shampoo on the shelf next to his. She was so busy thinking about eating, she'd forgotten about the basics. When she was done with her shower she went back into the bedroom to find Spike sitting on the bed, staring at the phone. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was turned down in a slight frown.



Buffy walked over and sat in front of him. "Hey, why the long face?" She leaned over to stroke his cheek.



He smiled and caught her hand. "It's nothing really. I just wanted everyone to meet you tonight, and Jack can't make it. He wants to take us out for dinner tomorrow night to celebrate. Is that all right with you?"



"Well, sure it is. Anything you want to do is fine by me. The others are coming though, aren't they?" Buffy hoped no one else had canceled. It hurt her to see Spike upset.



"Yes, Giles, Wesley,,, and his wife Fred are going to meet us. I think you'll like them very much, and I think you and Fred'll have a lot to talk about. She's a developmental psychologist and works at a center associated with university. One of their specialties is diagnosing and treating children on the autistic spectrum. She also loves to shop and knows where all the best bargains are."



By the time he finished talking, he was smiling again. It meant a lot to her that he was trying to make her feel at home with his friends.



"She sounds great, but I'm also excited to meet Giles and Wesley. You don't have to play up all my interests. I want to meet your friends because they're your friends. They know things about you I don't, maybe funny, embarrassing things."



Spike looked stricken for a moment, his eyes going wide as saucers.



"I'm just kidding! Lighten up. It's all going to be fine," she said, smiling to show she meant it. "Shouldn't our food be here? I'm starting to feel faint."



At that moment the buzzer buzzed.



Spike smirked. "You were saying?" He stood and headed for the front door, calling back, "I'll meet you in the kitchen with dinner."



Buffy hurried into the kitchen, got a beer out of the fridge for Spike and plates and utensils for them before sitting down at the red dinette table. Spike walked into the kitchen carrying a large brown paper bag and a Diet Coke.



"Okay. My mouth is officially watering. Hand over the bag before you get hurt."



Spike chuckled. "Are you really going to assault me before I can get it out of the bag and onto your plate, Summers? I've forgotten how truly irrational you can be when you're hungry."



He took out her fries first and set them on the plate, then did the same with his, and finally, came the burger she'd been waiting for. He took his and set it on his plate as well.



"Did you want some ketchup for your fries?" he asked, watching in amazement as she'd not even given any pretense of waiting for him. A muffled response came from Buffy, but he had to ask again when her mouth wasn't full.



"Mustard," she said, taking another massive bite, chewing and swallowing. "I'm sorry, for being so piggish, but I'm starving. You know what I'm like if I get too hungry. It's your fault, you know. I haven't had anything to eat since breakfast this morning, and it's now past five." She tried and failed to adopt a pitiful pout.



He sat down across from her and gave her one his patented smirks. "Oh, I don't think you're one to be pointing fingers. I think the blame is shared. Need I remind you of your little seduction after our nap? We could have gone out for something then, but no, you were busy, not that I'm complaining. I'm just saying we need to look at things from both sides."



"You're right, and I'm sorry. We're equally guilty. I shouldn't have snapped at you. Forgive me?" she asked, leaning across the small table and taking his hand in hers. She noticed how long and slim his fingers were and imagined what a wedding band would look like on his hand.



After dinner, they cleaned up and went to get dressed. Buffy still needed to do her hair and make-up. Spike said the pub was about a fifteen minute walk from his place, so she needed to hurry, but that wasn't a problem for her. She was pretty low maintenance most of the time and prided herself on looking great with just the bare minimum.



"Spike, what should I wear? I don't want to be too casual or too dressy." Buffy was nervous as hell about meeting these people. She wanted so much for them to like her. After all, they were the only people she was going to know for while.



"Don't be daft, love. It's doesn't matter what you wear. They're going to love you, and we're just going to a pub, so jeans are fine." He kissed her forehead and squeezed her bottom.



Buffy chose a light peasant top and soft, worn ballet flats to go with her jeans, since Spike said they'd be walking. As she slipped on her earrings, she heard him call from the living room.



"Yes, I'm all ready to go. Lead the way."



He wrapped his arm around her, leading her out the door and down the hall to the tiny elevator.



The evening air was mild, and sounds of the city were strange to Buffy's ears. The pink sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, reminding her that summer was well and truly on its way. As they walked, she took in the countless and varying places they passed: bodegas, vintage clothing stores, boutiques, restaurants, record stores, book stores. She'd never seen so many different things in such a small space.



"My mouth's not hanging open is it?" She looked up at him as they stopped at a corner.



"Nope. You finding all this a bit much to take in?" He kissed the top of her head.



"Uh, yeah. I've never been anywhere remotely like this. I'm pretty much in culture shock, but it's not a bad thing. It's just something I'll get used to, right?" She met his eyes again, hoping for confirmation.



"I know, it's, it's nothing like Sunnydale, but trust me, you'll love it once you're used to it. You have everything you could possibly want, right at your fingertips." He pulled her closer as they started to cross the street. "It's just right up here on the left with the green awning."



Buffy looked ahead and saw the pub coming into view, and her stomach did a little flip-flop. She had no idea why she was so nervous. They were just people, but they were also Will's friends, and she wanted to make a good impression for his sake, if not for her own. When they reached the large, oak door Buffy took a deep breath.



Spike tipped her chin up, so her eyes would meet his gaze. "Have a told you how beautiful you look tonight? No worries, okay. They're going to love you. You know why? Because I love you." He kissed her softly, allaying her fears as he led her inside.



"Wow," Buffy said, feeling her nerves settle in the wake of the kiss.



"I think I'll keep you."



Inside, the Wellington was small and quiet, its dark, rich oak interior warm and welcoming. On the far wall of the bar there was a banquette with tables and chairs in front, and other smaller tables were interspersed throughout the small space, adding cozy warmth. Everyone there looked as if they belonged.



Somebody called Spike's name, and Buffy looked toward the banquette, where a handsome man with shaggy brown hair was waving them over. Beside him were a beautiful brunette with a mile-wide grin and a rather distinguished looking man in his early fifties.



The three of them stood as Spike and Buffy reached the table.



"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Buffy," Spike said, placing a comforting hand in the small of her back. "Buffy this is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, his lovely wife Fred, and Rupert Giles, but everyone calls him Giles."



They exchanged pleasantries and took their seats around the table. Spike put a comforting hand on Buffy's thigh, rubbing it in soothing circles. She reached for his hand and grasped it tightly. She looked to him, as if asking what to do next. Thankfully, Giles asked her a question.



"Buffy, dear, how do you find New York thus far?" Giles gave her a warm smile, putting her instantly at ease.



"Well, I have to say it's been a bit of a shock to my system, but I'm enjoying it very much."



"I'm guessing no one's ordered yet?" Spike looked at Giles.



"No, we only arrived just before you."



Spike looked at the other two men. "So, that'll be three of the usual then, and two ciders for the ladies."



"That sounds good, but this round's on me. It's the least I can do, now poor Fred has another woman to talk to," said Wesley, clapping his hand on Spike's shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Spike. Why don't we three go to the bar? The ladies look like they can hold their own."



"Thanks. It's good to be home." Spike turned to say something to Buffy and realized she and Fred were talking animatedly about designer shoes or something equally foreign. "So Rupes, what exciting things have I missed in my absence?"



Giles rolled his eyes at the moniker and said, "Nothing of any consequence. Now, come and tell us all about this stunning young woman you've managed to ensnare."



Buffy watched Spike out of the corner of her eye as he and the other two men headed up toward the bar.



"How long have you known Spike?" Fred asked, her Texan accent sounding warm and friendly.



Buffy had immediately liked her "Oh, I've known Will since we were five. We grew up together, and his mother was sort of like a second mother to me." She bit her lip and ducked her head.



Fred placed her hand on Buffy's arm. "I'm so sorry. Her death must have been hard on you as well, but I'm glad you were there for one another. Have you two stayed in contact all these years?"



Buffy just assumed Fred knew the story, so it was a surprise to find she didn't. Buffy gave her a brief explanation of their history, finishing up with Anne's parting gift to them. Fred's eyes grew wider and wider the more Buffy talked, and by the end of her story, Fred was practically vibrating in her chair. "Gosh! That's just about the most romantic thing I've ever heard. I can't wait to hear the whole story sometime."



By then, the men returned from the bar and Spike sat down next to Buffy, setting a pint in front of her.



Buffy eyed him warily. "What's this? You know I don't drink beer."



"I know you don't, and this isn't beer. It's cider, and I think you'll like it. Have a taste and see." Spike gave her a challenging look. He knew she'd never back down now.



Buffy picked up the glass and took a tentative sip, then a larger one. "Mmm, this is really good. It's sort of tastes like caramel apples with a bite. What's it called?"



Spike chuckled at that. "It's called Woodpecker, and don't let the taste fool you. It packs a wallop if you have too many."



Buffy tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. "Tell me you're joking about the name?" Spike shook his head, and Buffy took another sip of the delicious golden drink before asking, "What, pray tell, are you drinking?"



"Black Sheep Riggwelter ale. It's our usual. You wanna taste?" Spike took a long pull off his pint, then offered it to Buffy.



"No thanks, I'll stick with my cider. It's really yummy." She pushed the pint back toward him.



About that time, there was a lull in conversation. Spike looked at Buffy and gave her a warm smile. Taking her hand in his, he said, "Buffy and I wanted you all to come out this evening, because we have some news to share. We're engaged!"



There was a collective gasp from the three other occupants of the table, then there were hugs and felicitations all around.



"Oh, Buffy, how exciting! Are you gonna have a big wedding?" Fred asked.



"I haven't even thought about that. I guess that's something Spike and I will have to discuss, but I'm guessing not. He only asked me this morning. You guys are the first to know."



When Buffy said the words, she realized she hadn't even thought to call her mother and a small pang of guilt shot through her heart, but the happiness she felt far outweighed the guilt. If they got home in time, she would call Willow and maybe her mother, but right now she was enjoying the company of her fiancé and his friends.



Buffy looked around the table at their smiling faces and hoped she would soon be able to call them her friends as well.

Buffy awakened to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. She stretched and yawned, rolling over to Spike's side of the bed and finding the sheets cold. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet for her liking, so she got out bed, put on Spike's shirt from the night before and started to make her way to the kitchen.



"Will?" she called, but got no answer.



Once inside the kitchen, she saw a cup already set out for her. She smiled at his thoughtfulness, but at the same time wondered where the hell he was. Just then she heard a key turn in the lock of the front door and sighed in relief. She giggled to herself as she heard him singing on his way toward the kitchen.



"Then one fine mornin' she puts on a New York station

She don't believe what she heard at all

She started dancin' to that fine fine music

You know her life was saved by Rock 'n' Roll"



He continued to sing as he walked into the kitchen, and Buffy stood out of his line of sight, just watching him dance around as he put a bag on the counter. He finally saw her as he turned toward the refrigerator. "Bloody Hell! I thought you were still asleep." He walked over and put his arms around her waist.



"What? And miss a free concert? No way! You're quite the performer." Buffy trailed a finger down his chest, giving him an impish smile.



"Hmm," he said, leaning down to capture her lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed the show. I always aim to please." He bit his bottom lip and raised his eyebrows suggestively.



"Your naughty looks aren't working on me. What's in the bag? I'm starving." Buffy's stomach rumbled to prove her point.



"Bagels and cream cheese from the shop on the corner. I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed. I got poppy seed, onion, and plain. Which do you want?" Spike emptied the warm bagels onto a plate he'd retrieved from the cupboard.



"Poppy seed, please. I'll get you some coffee." Buffy reached into the cabinet where the glasses and cups were kept, pulled out a large, red, public radio station mug and filled it for Spike, making it just the way he liked. "Will, here's your coffee. Why don't we go sit down and eat?"



He turned and looked at the mug she was holding. His face contorted into a look of disgust. Spike grabbed the mug from her, sloshing the hot liquid on his hands and on to the floor, then dumped the contents into the sink. He hurled the mug toward the garbage at the can but missed, and the cup shattered into pieces on the floor.



"I hate that bloody, God damn mug!" he said, stomping toward the table.



Buffy's heart pounded and her minded raced, trying to understand what had just happened. Trembling, she rushed to the table where Spike, shaking as hard as she was, sank down into his chair with his head in his hands. She pulled her chair close to his and tentatively touched her finger to the angry red burns on his hands.



"Will? W-what's wrong?"



Spike looked up at her, and Buffy could see unshed tears glistening in his eyes.



"Mum used that mug the last time she was here, and I hate it because it's the last time she had coffee here, and she didn't like it. The whole week she bitched about how strong my coffee was, because I only buy extra-bold. She liked mild, as you know, but I couldn't be bothered to accommodate her. I just made it the way I always did, and she had to add water to it. Why couldn't I do one small thing to make her stay more pleasant? I was such an ass!"



Tears ran down his cheeks, and he tore his gaze from hers as his chest heaved with a deep, mournful sob.



Buffy took him by the wrist and pulled him into her arms. "Oh, Will, I'm so sorry. You know she didn't really care about the coffee. You were a good son. Don't let some stupid piece of ceramic make you feel inadequate. You know she would say the same thing if she were here. I'm just sorry I brought up bad memories for you," she said, as she rubbed his back in soothing circles.



He sat up and wiped his eyes. "It's little things like this that get me. That's why I stayed at your house in Sunnydale. At home I'd expect to see her in the kitchen every morning. When I proposed to you, my first instinct was to phone her, but I caught myself before you could know. I just miss her so much, and it breaks my heart that she won't be there when we're married." His voice broke at the last sentence as unchecked tears streamed down his cheeks.



Buffy wiped the errant tears from his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs, then tipped his chin to meet her gaze. "I can't begin to imagine how hard this is for you, but you have to share these things with me. Let me in, or I can't be there when you need me, and I want to so very much. Promise me you'll talk to me when you're feeling like this. You know I miss her too. You know, she would come over for dinner, and I would be making something new. She'd keep asking me if I was doing it right, and I would ask her if she'd ever made the dish before. She'd admit she hadn't, but she was trying to tell me how to do it." Buffy gave a little laugh, her eyes now shining with tears.



"Oh, love, that sounds just like her. She always thought of us as children in some ways. I didn't mean to make you cry too." Spike reached up and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "I promise I'll share more of these things with you, and you share your memories with me as well. Okay?"



"That's what I'm here for, and I promise I'll share too. I do believe that she knows what's happened in some way. After all, it all went according to her master plan, and I'll be forever grateful to her for that." Buffy gave him a small smile before kissing his cheek.



Spike returned her smile and took her face in his hands kissing her soundly on the lips. "Thanks, love. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're right. Thank God Mum was so stubborn and crafty. Otherwise, we wouldn't be sitting here today. Now, let me get another cup of coffee, and we'll have our breakfast."



After breakfast, they cuddled up on the sofa with more coffee and a newspaper to share between them.



"What were you and Fred planning for today?" Spike asked, eyeing her over the book review.



"Nothing much," Buffy said "She asked if I wanted to go shopping this afternoon for a while, but if you have other plans for us, it's no big deal. Have you heard from Jack?"



"No, I haven't, but I'm sure he'll call. He's not exactly known for being an early riser," Spike said. "You and Fred should go and make a day of it. You two seemed to get along so well last night. " Spike absently rubbed his foot over hers as they talked.



"Great, I'll call her in a little while and let her know. What are you going to do?" she asked, her foot tickling his ankle.



He jerked his foot away in response. "I don't know. Maybe I'll plot my revenge against evil women who finds it funny to tickle poor innocents. Ha!" Spike grinned deviously, as he captured her seeking foot. "I caught you!"



"You know I'm not ticklish, so there's nothing you can do." Her eyes sparkled with amusement.



"Oh, I wouldn't under estimate me if I were you." He took her left foot in his hands, massaging it from heel to toe.



"Mmm, I love your idea of punishment." She scooted closer to him, closing her eyes and enjoying the attention. Just then she felt her big toe being enveloped by his warm mouth. Oh, God! Spike swirled his tongue around the perfectly manicured toe before he began to nibble. This just gets better and better—



"Ow! Why the hell did you bite me?" Buffy tried to jerk her foot away, but Spike held on tight.



"I told you not to underestimate me. Do you want me to kiss it again and make all better?" he asked innocently, raising his eyebrows and sucking his bottom lip.



"Nope, I think I'll take a rain check. I need to call Fred and hop in the shower if we're going shopping, and somehow, I don't think your kissing my toes would help get those things done in a timely manner," she said, wiggling her foot, trying to free it from his grasp.



"Is that your way of saying you can't resist my sinister attraction?" He kissed her foot and let it go. "I suppose I'll be kind and stay out your way, so you won't be tempted."



"Oh, for the love of Pete! I'm not even touching that." Buffy stood and bent down to give him a lingering kiss. "I'm going to do my stuff now."



She went into the bedroom to fetch her phone to call Fred, who agreed to pick her up around one. It was ten thirty, so that gave her plenty of time to get dressed and ready and spend more time with Will. She hoped he would be okay on his own. Buffy couldn't remember him having any kind of outbursts like that since the funeral. She walked down the hall to bathroom and started the shower. She knew he missed her, but she had no idea he'd been holding so much inside. She was determined to help him through this in any way she could.



Spike sat on the sofa listening to sounds of the shower. He'd given up concentrating on reading. He tried to think of things he could do today while Buffy was out, and he was failing miserably. Usually he had something to do, but he'd been away so long, he felt out of the loop. Maybe he would go to a movie, the bookstore or a record store, anything but stay here alone. He'd told her to go, because he wanted her to make a friend, but he suddenly felt so alone and lost.



He didn't know where it all was coming from. It had been over a month since his mum's death. He knew he still missed her, but he didn't expect to feel this emptiness inside all of a sudden. It was as though he'd been in daze where her death was concerned, as though he hadn't fully comprehended the magnitude of it before. Now, he fully realized that when he went back to Sunnydale, she wouldn't be there. He could never phone her again. Tears pricked his eyes for the second time that morning. He didn't want Buffy to see him that way. He'd heard the water shut off a while back, so he hastily wiped his eyes, got up, and walked into the bedroom.



Buffy was standing at the mirror in a towel combing out her wet hair when Spike came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.



"Did you have a nice shower?" His voice was hoarse and his nose sounded stuffed.



"Yes, I did, but it sounds like you didn't have such a nice time on the couch." She looked him straight in the eye, as if daring him to deny it.



"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about Mum again, and I turned into a sniveling prat," he said, standing back and running his fingers through his hair.



Buffy turned around to face him, and he could see something akin to anger in her eyes. "William Jameson, I don't want to hear you say anything like that again! You lost your mother unexpectedly a little more than a month ago. You've more than likely been in some state of shock, and it's beginning to become a reality for you. I think this is completely normal, and I'm not leaving you alone. I'm going to cancel my plans with Fred."



Buffy reached for her phone, and Spike grabbed her wrist.



"No, Buffy, it's really not necessary. I promise I'll be all right." He looked at her and couldn't believe he had the good fortune to be loved by such a generous creature.



Buffy wrested her hand away. "Yes, it actually is necessary. I couldn't have a good time knowing you were miserable, so we're going to do something together. If you want you can take me to the places she liked to visit, or we could go somewhere else. We could even stay here and just talk about her. Whatever will make you feel best is fine, but I'm not leaving you. Understood?"



He cupped her face and kissed the tip of her nose. "Yes, I understand. Thank you. I don't know what I've done to deserve you."



She pulled back slightly and gazed into his eyes. "It has nothing to do with deserving. It's about me loving you, silly."



"Well, I'm glad you love me, because I sure as hell love you. You call Fred and get dressed. I'm going to hop in the shower. Then we're going to some of Mum's favorite places. It'll be like she's with us." He gave her a quick squeeze, then headed for the shower.



That afternoon Spike took Buffy on a tour of Anne's favorite places. By the time the sun set, Buffy was so tired she could barely keep up with him.



"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" he asked Buffy, who was lagging behind by a good three paces.



"I'm starved and dying of thirst," she said, leaning on his shoulder for support.



"Just up here on the right was our favorite place to eat," Spike said, pointing to a restaurant up ahead with an orange lacquered door. The battered wooden shingle beside the door read, Taj Mahal, Fine Indian Cuisine, in a bold cobalt script.



"The first time I took her here she loved it, and the next time I brought her back she'd forgotten it until I reminded her. After that, we always had lunch here at least once when she visited, and she would always pretend to not remember it. It was our little joke," Spike said.



Buffy looked at the inviting façade of the small Indian restaurant and smiled. "That sounds wonderful," she said, and followed Spike inside.

Spike leaned back against the arm of the sofa, Buffy between his knees, reclining against his chest as she sipped a glass of wine. The stereo was turned down low and playing "Exile on Main Street" by The Rolling Stones, though Mick Jagger's voice was as recognizable as ever, it seemed softer and less world-weary. Spike ran his fingers through her hair, pulling it one side, and kissing her where her neck met her shoulder. Buffy hummed in approval.

They had spent the entire day visiting Anne's favorite places. He was so grateful to Buffy for suggesting they do that. One of the many places they'd visited was the Guggenheim on Upper East Side. Anne had not only loved the art there, but also the architecture of the building. She'd been a great fan of Frank Lloyd Wright. It had been very cathartic for him. He was able to create new memories with Buffy at each of these places and no longer associate them with sad thoughts of not having his mum there. He would still miss her, of course, and always think of those places when he thought of her, but he now had a different outlook on them, thanks to Buffy. She'd not spoken for awhile, and her eyes were closed, but he could tell by the rhythm of her breathing, she wasn't asleep.

"Love, you seem to be deep in thought. What's going on in that head of yours?" He took her wine glass from her before he continued his trail of kisses.

"Hmm, that feels nice. You're making it hard to concentrate," she said, turning to face him. "I was just thinking about the lovely day we spent and how much I enjoyed it. I was also thinking about how wonderful it feels to just sit here with you and do nothing."

"I know. Thanks for doing that. It was kind of like having her back for a little while," Spike said, stroking her hair.

"It was my pleasure, and I didn't want to be anywhere else. Thank you for sharing that part of her with me, but I'm still worn out."

I'm pretty tired myself, but Jack's very excited to meet you. He's known about you since we were freshmen." He tried to pull her closer for a kiss, but she resisted, putting her hand against his chest.

The color drained from her face. She opened and closed her mouth, but no words would come immediately. "G-great, so, he thinks I'm a bitch. That's just wonderful! I'm sure he'll be thrilled when you tell him you're going to marry me!" Buffy looked like she might cry. "Now I really want to meet this Jack."

"Buffy, don't be daft. He doesn't think you're a bitch. I've been talking to him since we've been together." He tried to take her hand to pull her to him for a hug, but she was having none of it.

"Don't be daft? You…you called me some ridiculous British word for stupid! "Buffy glared at him with her bottom lip protruding just the tiniest bit.

Spike raised his eyebrows and tried his best not to smile. "I didn't say you were daft. I said you were being daft, and those are two very different things. I'm sorry. It's just an expression, and I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, kitten. Come here and give us a kiss, please. I was very rude and deserve to be punished." He held out his arms and waited for her.

Buffy put her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his, her eyes sparkling. "You're exactly right. You were mean to me, and you should be punished. She leaned back and sighed. "But I guess you can have your kiss now."

Buffy leaned forward and captured his lips, his tongue darting out to tease hers. She put her hands on his cheeks, pulling him deeper into the kiss. His hands were busy skating up her sides to cup her breasts. His thumbs grazed her already hardened nipples, causing her to moan into his mouth. She raked her nails down his chest on her mission to pull his t-shirt off. However, he seemed to be taking his time with her blouse, unbuttoning it one button at a time.

"Somehow, this doesn't feel very much like punishment to me. I feel extremely well-rewarded," he said, before tracing one her nipples with his tongue, though the lace of her bra.

"Hmm…who says your punishment has to be immediate?" She arched her back to give him better access. "But aren't we supposed to be meeting Jack fairly soon? We'd better start getting ready."

"Yes, you're right, and I am feeling rather grimy from all the walking we did today. I think a nice hot shower is in order. What about you? Care to join me?" He'd slipped off her blouse and was unhooking her bra as he raised his eyebrows and ran his tongue over his top teeth.

"Well, that's an incredibly tempting offer," Buffy said pulling his shirt over his head. "I don't see how I could refuse you, and it will save time."

"Oh, I don't know about the time saving, but I know it will be much more fun." He scooped her up and carried her toward the bathroom.

Buffy giggled into his neck. He loved the way her warm breath felt on his skin. He hoped tonight would go well. Jack could be a bit much to take if you didn't know him well, and Spike was praying he'd be on his best behavior tonight.

Spike was still in his towel looking for something to wear, and Buffy was in her robe, blow-drying her hair. She hadn't intended to get it wet, but one thing led to another and well…now, here she was. She thought about the day they'd spent together and the closeness Spike and Anne shared. She'd never really had that with Joyce. Joyce always wanted to treat her like a child, no matter her age. She never confided important things to her and looking back on it, any displays of real affection were only ever given in front of others. Buffy still felt a pang of guilt for not yet having called to tell her of the engagement. She decided when she was done, to take a moment and call her mother. She would share the news and let her know she loved her. Her conscience would be clear.

Spike came over to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind as she finished with her hair. "Is something wrong? You seem a bit off."

"No. I was just thinking about today... and about my mom. I really need to call her and tell her about our engagement. I want to have a better relationship with her. I can't see us ever having what you and Anne had, but I'd like my relationship with her to be better than it is now."

"Love, I understand. You should call her, and I hope she's happy for us. I don't want her to hurt you anymore. It makes me so angry to think of the things she's done to you…to us." Spike was trying to keep his tone as even as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Buffy.

"I understand your need to protect me, but this is something I have to do for myself. I can't let you fight my battles, especially with her. If you don't mind, I'm going to go into the living room and give her a call." Buffy reached down to get her cell from her purse.

"I'm here if you need me. Not to put a rush on things, but we need to leave in an hour. Will that be enough time for you?" Spike asked, cupping her cheeks and giving her a sweet kiss.

"Yes, that's plenty of time, and she may not even be there. Who knows?" Buffy punched in the numbers and began to walk toward the living room.

"Hello, Buffy. I was wondering when you'd call. Is everything all right, dear?" Joyce asked, with a bit of an edge to her voice.

"Hi, Mom, I'm glad I caught you. I'm sorry I've not called sooner, but things have been a little hectic. Everything's fine. In fact, that's one of the reasons I was calling." Buffy sat on the sofa and bit her lip, waiting to hear what her mother said next.

"Have you and William had a falling out? I told you going there was a bad idea. Is it as noisy and busy as it looks on television?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and wondered what made her want to do this. "Yes, I mean no. Will and I haven't had a falling out. I meant it is noisy and busy, but that's not really the issue. Mom, Will asked me to marry him, and I said yes." There was silence on the other end of the line, so long that Buffy thought she'd lost the connection. "Mom, are you there? Don't you want to congratulate me?"

"Yes, I'm here. I'm just a bit stunned. I know you love him, but are you really certain he loves you? He's just lost his mother. This proposal could just be the grief talking. I think you should be careful. He's just going to hurt you in the end. When are you coming home?" Joyce's tone was condescendingly sweet.

Buffy could feel the anger boiling inside her. Her eyes burned as she felt tears form. She decided then and there she'd had enough. She was through making concessions. If Joyce wanted to have a relationship, she would have to be the one to make the next effort. Buffy felt as though she'd tried all her life to be the best daughter she could, but she was never quite able to meet Joyce's ludicrous expectations.

Buffy steeled herself and made her voice as steady and calm as possible. "I'm sorry I called you, Mom. I really am. I spent the day with Will remembering Anne and how much he loved her, how much we loved her, and I thought about how nice it would be for you and me to be as close as Will and Anne were. I was trying to reach out to you and share the most important event in my life with you-and you diminish it by telling me he doesn't really love me! How can you be so cruel and pretend to care?"

"I'm sorry if you think I'm cruel. I'm just being honest. I can't help it if you're too blind to see. I always thought Anne fawned over William a bit too much. Is that what you're looking for, praise?"

Buffy knew if her mother was there she would have more than likely slapped her by now. Oh how she wished she hadn't made this call, but she had, so she had to finish it. "You're cruel and self-centered. You've never once taken my wants or needs into consideration above your own. Anne fawned over William because she loved him and was proud of all he accomplished. They loved one another. I love you because you are my mother, but I sure as hell don't like you! As for my coming home, Will and I will be back to take care of the rest of the things he needs to with Anne's estate and putting the house on the market. I will be resigning from work and putting my house on the market. We plan to make our home here."

"I don't know what to say…" Joyce sounded a bit dumbfounded.

"That's fine. You don't have to say anything else. I think we're done. If you want to talk to me respectfully, you have my number. Goodbye, Mom." Buffy pressed the button to end the call. She felt a bit of sadness, but also very empowered. She walked back to the bedroom with new found confidence.

"Well, how'd it go?" Spike stopped buttoning his navy shirt and waited for her answer.

"Well, it definitely wasn't all hugs and puppies…" Buffy tried for a light tone as she moved past him toward the closet.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think it would be, but what exactly happened?" Spike came over and put his hand on her shoulder, kissing the side of her neck.

She turned to him, not quite meeting his eyes. "It was a disaster. She was her normal awful self, and I told her our plans."

He pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair. "I'm so sorry. I'd hoped it would go better. I can tell you something though," he said, tipping her chin, "It's completely her loss. You've done all you can do. And you do have a handsome, dashing fiancé who absolutely adores you." He kissed the tip of her nose, then gave her a squeeze.

Buffy smiled up him. He could see the unshed tears in her eyes. "I'm a very lucky woman indeed. Have I told you how much I love you today?"

"No, I don't believe you have."

"Well, I do love you, but I love you so much I can't fathom how to measure it, besides you're the one with all the words, not me." She leaned up and kissed him with a gentle intensity, as though she were trying to convey all her feelings through that one kiss.

"Wow, I think you did very well with both things, actually. I love you too, you know, but we need to get a move on. I've called for a cab, and it'll be downstairs in about fifteen minutes."

"I know you do. Give me ten, and I'll be ready to go, all right? Now shoo." Buffy pushed him toward the door, so she could finish dressing.

She put on a charcoal gray slip-dress and quickly applied some light make-up and perfume before sliding into her heels. "Okay, I'm ready to go," she said, walking into the living room.

Spike was peering out the window for the cab. "Cab's here. Shall we?" He took her hand, and they walked out the door. "You look amazing as always, love, and you smell delicious." Spike put his arm around her after locking the door, and they walked toward the elevator.

Once they were in the cab, Spike gave the driver directions to place where they were meeting Jack. He had made the reservations, and the restaurant was new, so Spike didn't know anything about it.

The restaurant was on a small side street; a white awning with word SŌ printed in black lettering marked the elegant entrance. Spike paid the driver, and they walked toward the intricate wrought iron door, leading them to the restaurant. Once inside, Spike inquired about their reservations and found that Jack had yet to arrive. They were quickly shown to their table.

"This is lovely place. I was hoping he would already be here, so we could get the introductions out of the way," Buffy said, her eyes darting toward the door.

Spike looked up from his phone. "I'm sorry, he's just texted me. He'll be here in about ten minutes. I don't know why you're so worried. Everything's going to be fine. Why don't you have look at the wine list, or do you want a cocktail?" Spike took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"A martini would be great. We can wait on the wine. I'm nervous because he knows our history, and I feel like I'm going to be on trial." Buffy pushed at the silverware, then reached down to smooth an invisible wrinkle in her dress.

The waiter came, and Spike gave him their drink orders, informing him they were waiting on a third party.

"Love, he's not going to judge you. He's just excited to meet you, and he's my best mate. I want the two of you to get along. Anyway, how could he not love you, hmm?"

"Oh, yes, how could he not? I wouldn't speak to you for eleven years. Does that ring any bells for you?"

Buffy wanted to shout hallelujah when the waiter came back with their drinks. She'd already taken a huge gulp before Spike could speak.

"Easy there, don't down the whole thing in one go," he said, slightly pulling it away from her. "Yes, it does, but that's ancient history. I think we're beyond that now. Take a look at your left hand." He lifted said hand to prove his point.

Buffy could feel the vodka warming her system, and she was starting to relax. "You're right. I'm sure I'm just over reacting. That phone call just got me really out of sorts."

"Oh, here he is now," Spike said, waving to a tall, thin man with unruly mop of auburn curls. He was wearing a rumpled linen jacket over a t-shirt with faded jeans, and the ensemble was completed by lived-in, black, Chuck Taylors.

Buffy wanted to laugh outright. She'd been afraid of meeting this guy. He looked harmless, like someone you wanted to hug, not run from. In fact, he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, clothes and all. She and Spike stood to greet him, and he went to Spike first, giving him a one-armed hug and slap on the back.

"Jaysus, mate, it's good to see you! Feels like I haven't seen you in an age. You certainly don't look the worse for it." He turned and smiled at Buffy, holding out his arms. "I can't believe it's the Buffy Summers. How the hell did Spike finally manage it?" He smiled at her, but Buffy could see something else in eyes, just before he hugged her.

"It's great to finally meet you. Will's told me all about you. I'm envious of your job with all the traveling you must do." Buffy ignored his question and tried to shift the conversation as far from the topic of her and Will as possible.

"Yeah, well I hope he's only told the good parts, and not what a rat bastard I can be." He smiled at Spike and punched him in the arm. "Sorry to slag off on you last night, but I had a deadline I had to make. What was the big news you and your girl here had to share? She's not up the spout is she?"

Buffy gave Spike a questioning glance, and he just rolled his eyes. "No!" His cheeks were tinted now, so Buffy knew it was something inappropriate. He lifted her left hand for Jack to see the ring. "We're engaged! Isn't that brilliant?"

Buffy waited for Jack's reaction, and he coughed and spluttered, looking as though he might swallow his tongue. Buffy wanted to laugh in spite of herself.

"No way! That's absolutely mad, congratulations!" Jack stopped the waiter and ordered a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. "This certainly calls for a celebration! When's the big day?"

Spike and Buffy exchanged glances and Spike spoke for them. "We haven't gotten that far yet, but we don't plan on a long engagement."

"You never answered my question, Buffy. How did Spike finally win you over?" Jack fixed her with a pointed gaze, and she felt her cheeks flame under his gaze.

"You certainly are persistent, aren't you? But I guess you have to be in your line of work. Are you working on any good stories right now?" Buffy was trying desperately to deflect attention from her.

"Oh, I'd say I'm working on a fine one right at the moment. My subject's just a little unwilling to cooperate." Jack gave her a charming grin.

"Jack, go easy her, mate. I think you're making her a little uncomfortable, and I promised her you'd be nice," Spike said, looking squarely at Jack.

Just then the champagne arrived, and glasses were filled all around. Jack raised his glass in a toast.

"To old friends and new. Spike, Buffy, may you have many lovely years of wedded bliss."

Buffy and Spike raised their glasses to his as well and thanked him for the toast. Soon they ordered their meal and the conversation flowed. Jack regaled Buffy with tales of Spike's college days and dating mishaps. He had her in stitches half the time, much to Spikes chagrin, especially when he revealed a particular girl whom Spike had dated for a very short time, but she didn't seem to get the message when he'd broken it off. Spike knew what was coming and slid further down in his seat.

"It seems this girlie's bust size was higher than her IQ. She just wouldn't leave him alone. The best thing about her was the pet names she gave him, 'Spikey' and 'Blondie Bear.' " Jack was guffawing by the time he'd finished.

Buffy was laughing so hard she was near tears. She had to compose herself before she could speak. "Ahh… Oh, my! That's too much. How did you ever get away from her, Spikey?"

Spike shot both of them a withering glare. "She met some bloke in the army and moved on, and I'd be carefully with name calling, missy."

Buffy looked at him, eyes wide with mock innocence. "I was just trying it on. After all, I don't really have any terms of endearment for you."

"Well, think of better ones, or I'll think of some for you." He raised his eyebrows and gave her a wicked grin.

Jack watched the two of them together. "I see she can most certainly hold her own with you. She's fiery, this one and a fine bit of stuff as well. You've certainly met your match, mate."

Before Spike could say anything, Buffy put her hand over his as silence him. "You really want to the answer to your question? I'll tell you. Will didn't have to do a damned thing. I just came to my senses, and I'm so grateful he still felt the same way." She leaned over and kissed his cheek for emphasis.

"Well, Will, I'd say you're one lucky arse. Why don't we head over to 610? The night is young, and I hear the craic there is great, but I need to stop along the way and pick up some fags. I had my last one just before I came in," Jack said with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

"Sounds like a sound plan to me, mate. Love, you ready?" Spike stood and took Buffy by the hand to lead her out.

Buffy gripped his hand like a vice and whispered. "Have you lost your mind? What the hell kind of person is he?"

Spike just chuckled and pulled her along. "It's not what you think, love. I'll explain."

They'd enjoyed their evening out with Jack. When they arrived at the club, a long line of people was waiting, but with a few words from Jack, the man at the door let them right in. They all drank more champagne, laughing and talking with Jack about their upcoming trip. He and Buffy danced quite a bit, and Spike loved seeing her so happy and carefree. Jack, of course, had his share of attention from the ladies. Buffy boldly asked him why he was unattached. He'd laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief and said he didn't want some woman nattering at him all the time. She'd feigned offense and punched him in the arm, then made some remark about him "eating his words" and sat down in Spike's lap, putting her arms around his neck and nibbling on his ear. At that point, Spike decided it would be good time to go.

They quickly caught a cab, and the whole ride home, Buffy tortured him with kisses and caresses, while whispering in his ear all the naughty things she wanted to do him. Her verbosity was such a turn on and so unlike her, he didn't know if it was the champagne or a new side of her personality she was only now starting to show him. Either way, he loved it. It was well past one-thirty when Spike paid the driver, and they made their way upstairs. Spike fumbled with his keys as he tried to unlock the door with a tipsy, amorous Buffy in front him.

"You really are quite the tease this evening," he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "What shall I do with you, now that I have you trapped?"

Buffy reached up, brushed, an errant curl off his forehead, and gave him a coy smile.

"Anything you want," she said, trailing her finger down his chest.

Spike pulled her to him, pressing his hard cock against her hip. He spoke to her softly, after leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

"Oh, yeah? Well, let's get inside then. Don't want our neighbors getting a show." He raised his eyebrows and playfully leered at her.

Buffy's tongue peeked out and traced her lips to wet them. "Well you'd better get that door unlocked, now." She moved to pull him in for a kiss.

His thoughts of unlocking the door were forgotten momentarily when she kissed him.

Spike was almost dizzy from arousal. He pulled back and said, "I will if the naughty little minx in front of me keeps her hands and lips to herself for a moment."

Buffy clasped her hands in front of her and gave him a mock pout. "All right, no touching."

Once Spike had the door unlocked, he pushed it open and hoisted Buffy over his shoulder fireman-style.

Buffy gasped in shock and giggled. "Will, is this a caveman role play game?"

Spike slapped her soundly on her bottom and laughed. "How clever of you to guess."

Buffy slapped him back, her voice a little hesitant. "Okay, whatever you say."

Spike walked into the bedroom and gently brought her down and into his arms. "I was only teasing, but I do want to play a little game with you, if you're okay with it."

She gazed up at him, her expression completely serious. "I meant what I said before, I trust you. I trust us."

He leaned down and gave her a lingering kiss. "You have no idea how much that means to me. I think you're going to love this, kitten. Close your eyes for me."

He went to his closet and retrieved two old silk neckties. He hoped this didn't frighten her, but when he looked back at her, he saw she had a smile and a look of eager anticipation on her face. He laid one of the ties on the bed and put the other over his shoulder as he walked toward her.

Buffy stood there, eyes shut and her body wobbling a little from the champagne. Her skin prickled with anticipation, and her stomach did a little flip-flop as she felt him come to stand behind her.

His warm breath tickled the shell of her ear as he whispered, "I'm going to blindfold you now, love. No worries. If you feel uncomfortable at any time, just say so, and I'll stop."

She felt the cool, soft material cover her eyes and wondered what it could be. He deftly secured it, but not too tight.

"Oooh, do I get to play pin the tail on Will?" she asked, turning around to embrace him, but she was met with air. "Will? Where did you run off to?" Buffy bit her bottom lip as though in deep thought, though her tone was playful.

"I'm right here," he said placing his warm, strong hands on her hips from behind. "And there'll be no pinning of anything on me this evening." His voice was a husky whisper as he nuzzled her neck.

"Hmm, that feels nice." Buffy reached up to pull his head closer, but Spike gently took it and placed it back at her side.

"Ah- ah-ah! There will be no touching me in this game. It's all about touching you."

Buffy felt his nimble fingers at the top of her dress and heard the zipper as he pulled it down.

"Well now that you have me at you mercy, pray tell, what are you going to do with me?"

The air hitting her exposed flesh cooled her momentarily. Then she felt his hands on her shoulders, easing the straps down. Then the dress was gone, and Buffy was left standing in her panties and heels.

"Oh, I have a few ideas about that, you'll just have to be patient."

He took her hand, helping her step out of her shoes and over her dress, then led her to the bed.

Buffy's thoughts were racing with all sorts of naughty things and she felt her cheeks warm from the blush.

Once she was lying on the bed, Spike sat beside her and raised both her arms above her head, securing her wrists to the frame.

"Is this all right, Buffy? I want you to be comfortable."

"Yes. It's more than fine. I can hardly wait for you to touch me," she said her voice so low and sensual, she barely recognized it as her own.

Buffy felt his warm breath near her face and took in the scent of his aftershave. Suddenly his lips were on hers, his tongue seeking entrance, which she freely gave, and caressed his with her own. She stifled a groan as the mattress dipped and she felt his loss. Her heart was racing with anticipation of the things to come. Buffy had no idea what to expect as she'd never been in this position before, but visions of the things he might do to her danced in her head. Her body reacted from the thoughts alone, her nipples hardening, and moisture pooling between her thighs. Buffy felt him move back to the bed and waited for his next move.

"I need you to spread your lovely legs for me. Want to see all of you. You're already all wet for me, aren't you? Those wispy bits of lace you call knickers are positively drenched."

Buffy couldn't stop herself from moaning her response. "Mmm-hmm."

Buffy's body was on fire. Every fiber of her being seemed electrified, and she yearned for his touch. At the tip of her toes, she felt something soft and cool moving its way up her body. She gasped and arched into it as it traveled along inside of her thigh and over each of her aching breasts before disappearing. Buffy moaned, wondering how something so cool and soft could have the opposite effect on her. She felt his arms on either side of her and his thighs inside one of hers, though he didn't touch her.

"Did my kitten like that?" he whispered in her ear, before charting a deliberately slow path down her neck, kissing, and nipping every spot.

"Mmm—yes, but I like this better. I love the feel of your mouth on my body, the smell of your skin. It makes me crazy. Did you know that?" she asked, almost panting.

"I got that impression, but it's a hell of a surge to a bloke's ego to hear!" He stopped fondling the one breast and moved to the other, tracing the areola while gently tugging the straining nipple.

Buffy bit her bottom lip, moaning in pleasure as she arched her body, trying to get as close him as possible.

"Jesus, Buffy! You taste so sweet, and I know I'll never get enough of you!" He took the neglected breast in his mouth suckling ardently, while his other hand caressed her flank.

She thrashed her head back and forth against the pillows in ecstasy.

"Oh God! Mmm, you make me feel so good, but I need more. Please, Will!" She bucked her hips off the bed as an invitation.

"Now, now. Remember love, you have to tell me what you want or you don't get it." His mouth continued its path downward as he continued to caress her breasts.

Buffy could feel his smirk as he began to swirl a path around her navel, his curls tickling her stomach. His hands skated down, caressing her inner thighs, fingers momentarily brushing the panties covering her pussy.

"Will!"

He stopped his ministrations at the exasperated sound of his name.

"Yes, Buffy?" he said, in a casual tone.

She couldn't see him, but she could feel his eyes on her as she licked the bead of sweat from her upper lip. She felt as though she were burning up from the inside, she wanted his fingers inside her, his mouth on her clit. "I need you to touch me, please!"

"That's all you needed to say." She heard a loud rip, and cool air hit her below.

She felt his thumbs parting her folds, then his tongue gently lapping at her. If anything, this was more frustrating. She had what she wanted, but he was teasing her. She tried to raise her hips to gain more friction, but he held them to the bed.

"Patience, love. Good things come to those who wait," he said.

"Humph! I think you're enjoying this a little too much!" She adopted her standard pout.

"The pout's not going to work with me this time. This is all about bringing you pleasure, whether you think so or not. I suggest you just relax and feel everything I'm doing. Don't think about anything else outside of that. Just know I'm going to take care of you."

At this point, Buffy was so frustratingly aroused she wanted to scream, and when he dipped his head back down and began to explore every fold and crevice with renewed vigor, she did.

"Yes. Oh, God…harder…please!" Her thighs were trembling from the onslaught of pleasure, and her moans filled the room.

"That's it Buffy. Wanna hear you scream."

Buffy wanted so badly to touch him, to give him such pleasure in return. Knowing she couldn't, she gave herself completely to him. She didn't recognize the sounds she was making. The air was filled with low, guttural moans and high-pitched wails as he inserted two fingers inside her. He found her special spot and began to stroke it with measured thrusts, and all the while he flicked her clit with his tongue. She wrapped her thighs around him as if to ground him there. Bucking against him, delirious with pleasure, she could feel her climax approaching, and she just needed a little more to push her over the edge when he sucked her clit into his mouth and bit down. Her entire body shuddered, and she lost all coherent thought. The pleasure was too intense, too overpowering, and she fell apart with his name on her lips.

Spike crawled up her body and removed the tie from her eyes, but they were closed. He leaned down and kissed her sweat-soaked brow, hoping she'd open her eyes.

"Buffy, love, come on. Open up those beautiful eyes for me, please."

Buffy's eyelids fluttered, and a sated smile illuminated her face.

"Mmm, that was beyond amazing! Would you untie me now? I need to touch you." Her voice still held a dream-like quality.

"Anything you want. I was afraid for a minute that I'd broken you," Spike said, reaching up to untie her wrists, massaging and kissing them as he brought them down to her sides.

She put her arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss.

"See, I'm not broken. I couldn't be better." Buffy could feel the evidence of his arousal against her hip and this renewed her desire.

"Kitten, you just passed out. You sure you're up for more?" He brushed her hair back, wet from exertion, and kissed her temple.

"No, but I'd be willing to give it another shot." She wrapped her thighs around him and positioned him at her entrance.

He sank into her slowly and stilled once he was fully inside.

"God, Buffy, what you do to me. You feel so fucking good."

He began to fill her again and again with long measured thrusts.

Buffy ran her hand over his back, loving the feel of his rippling muscles.

"Oh, I love touching you, Will. You make me feel so good. Oh!"

She ran her hands down back to grab his ass and push him deeper. She cried out his name as another powerful orgasm overtook her. With one final thrust, her muscles pulsing around his cock, he buried his head in the crook of her neck, whispering nonsensical praise as he came.

They slept in on Monday morning and got a late start on their last minute preparations for the trip to England. The day was spent running errands to the dry cleaners, the pharmacy, and the little lingerie store Buffy discovered a few blocks over. She was in desperate need of new panties, given Spike's tendency to render them useless of a regular basis. He did make up for it by purchasing some lovely new ones for her, as well as the matching bras and a few other pieces, with the promise of being more careful with these.

It was late evening when they'd returned to the apartment, and they still had to pack the rest of their things. After they finished, they showered and went straight to bed, as they had to be up at the crack of dawn in order to be at the airport on time.

They'd made their connection in Boston and had now been in the air about forty-five minutes. Buffy was reclining in soft leather seats of first class, lightly sipping her champagne.

"Are you enjoying the champagne, love?" Spike squeezed her hand lightly and nipped at her ear.

"Can we always fly first class?" Buffy asked, taking a sip of the golden liquid. "Everyone's so attentive, and it's so comfortable. Of course, I have nothing to compare it to. I've never flown coach."

"Trust me, love. It's a different world past those curtains. Cramped quarters, crying babies, no champagne, no lovely snacks. You're lucky if you get peanuts."

Buffy put a hand to her mouth and her eyes widened comically. "Oh, no, that's it! We can never fly coach. I can't bear the thought of peanuts. How pedestrian."

Spike chuckled at her theatrics. "Only the best for my girl. You should try to take a nap. We've got a long flight ahead of us, and it will help pass the time. I can have one of the attendants bring you a blanket and a pillow."

She looked into his eyes as she caressed his thumb. "I'm not really all that tired right now. I'm too keyed up to sleep. You know, this is really like a before-wedding honeymoon."

He leaned over and touched his forehead to hers. "I was thinking the same thing. Like a wedding present from Mum—" His voice broke, and he couldn't finish his sentence.

Buffy cut him off before his thoughts could to turn to grief. "I know, and I want to get married soon. In New York as soon as we get back. I don't want to put our life together on hold. I don't need a fancy wedding, just you, some witnesses, and someone to make it legal. Is that all right with you?"

"Kitten, I would marry you this minute if I could. It doesn't matter to me where it is or who is there. All I want is you." He kissed her softly, pulling her closer to him.

"Then it's settled. This is our honeymoon, and we'll marry as soon as we're back." She pulled back from him, tears of happiness welling in her eyes.

"You can't know how happy that makes me. You'll be a lovely bride no matter," he said, cupping her cheeks to bring her lips to his.

[An epilogue to follow.

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