There are things about my childhood that still have the ability to hurt. Even now on this day, at this age. People say that when you grow up, all your gripes and hurts and moans and problems fade away and become the stuff of nostalgia. It's probably this kind of attitude that makes children think all adults are just a little bit insane. But then, don't all adults think all children are a little insane? I'm actually not quite sure which side of that argument I fall on, even now. The world views me as an adult, sure - anti-wrinkle cream can only go so far, it ain't magic after all - but the fact that I still go to bed and wake up with the same thoughts and fears makes me seriously question just how much I've grown. Or if I even have at all. What if everyone else in the world is actually growing up and facing their fears and getting on with buying their houses and cars and they really mean it? What if they're not faking like I am? Fact is, my fears still wear the same face. My insecurities still speak with the same voice. Everything I want still falls into the lap of the same person. Drusilla Rhone. She keeps me down while she flies through life. And I let her.



After all, that's what BFFs are for, right?





----------------------------------------------------------





"Happy 30th Birthday!" yell approximately forty people. Only two of whom I would actually call friends, of course. Just shoot me in the head. Better paste on a smile, Buffy, paste it on good cause you'll be stuck here for a good few hours, I tell myself.



Drusilla, the undoubted ringleader of this little ambush, darts forward out of the crowd to embrace me, pulling me so tight against her body that I can barely draw breath. Even when she's loving me she suffocates me, I think. I can practically hear Xander's voice speaking in my head telling me to suck it up and deal with my choices. You're the one that stays with her Buffy, he says to me. I tell him to shut it and he gives me the finger.



"Oh, look at you, 30 years old Buff! Can you believe it?" Drusilla says, her arm around me. I wince a little, trying to think of the appropriate quirky response that'll get me out of this situation without her turning her pity eyes on me.



"I can believe it," I say. "I just don't want to accept it".



"Did you guess? Huh?" she asks, practically bouncing in the air with excitment.



"Did I guess what, Dru?"



"The party of course, you beast!" she says. Oh great. Her nickname for me from when we were 12 is making a re-appearance.



It's first appearance coincided with the advent of my first period, which had the audacity to appear before Dru's did, and she took it upon herself to throw a hissy fit in my bathroom when I was bleeding all over the place and struck with the sudden urge to cry out for my mother, who had died two years previously. You're welcome to it, she'd said. My mom said you're gonna get hair all over your body like a beast and be bent over in pain for a week every month and the younger you are when you first get it the worse it is, so enjoy your first period, beast. Of course, Dru's period hadn't taken long to join the party and by then, well it was a sign of how old and mature you were of course. It had gone from the worst curse in the world to the happiest most fantabulous thing ever in the space of three months. But the beast nickname stuck around for a good few years after that, always said with that twinkle in Dru's eye, and I would be struck with the sudden urge to find a mirror and make sure I was no longer that 12-year-old bleeding girl crying out for a mother that would never come.



And apparently now it was back, in all its glory, for my 30th birthday. Happy Birthday to me.



"No, of course I didn't guess. You think I would've worn my crappy pinafore if I knew I was going to a party after work?"



"And those shoes, Buff. Seriously, one of these weekends I'm gonna drag you out of that shitty apartment of yours and into the mall."



One of these days I'm gonna stab you in the eye, Dru. Right in the eye!



"Well, you know me. Why waste money on shoes I'm hardly ever going to wear?"



"Maybe so you can get yourself a man for the first time in your life?"



Right in the eye, Dru.



"Yeah, well .."



"Oh nevermind, you're impossible. Let's get your party started!" she cries, turning around and blocking me from said party. But when the crowd cheers and swallows her up, I can honestly not even find it in myself to begrudge her this. Yeah, it's my birthday but she's right. She's the one that puts herself out there. Why shouldn't she get the attention and adoration?



I follow her into the crowd that is made up of people I don't even really recognise and see that Dru has herself a little stage and microphone set up. Huh. Amazing it took her 29 years to get one of those.



"Okay, okay, hush everyone! I want everyone's attention."



Shocker there.



"I am getting married in 81 days people!" she cries and another piece of me breaks. My eyes dart to her massive engagement ring that has been blinding me for the last six months and I feel the familiar feeling of misery overtaking me.



"Yes, yes, I'm getting married. But my darling future husband-to-be already knows that he has to share me. You see my true love, first and foremost, will always be you, Buffy."



My eyes tear up as she looks straight at me and for a moment all the hurt fades away as she looks at me and I can almost feel us sliding back to when our friendship really was the best thing in our lives. Before it was poisoned by time and insecurity and jealousy and a thousand other things that chip away at your childhood to turn you into an adult. My heart beats a little quicker at the reminder of all that I've shared with Dru.



All I've shared with her and all I've given up to her.



"She is my one true love. She always has been and she always will be. Some friendships are meant to last and Buffy, I promise you, ours will last forever. This is for you, Buff", she says.



The lights dim. I can see a screen that's been set up to her left. All eyes focus on the images now appearing on the screen, accompanied by some cheesy music playing in the background. Me and Dru at 5 years old, Dru dumping her sand bucket and its contents on my crying face. Me and Dru in our tutu's; hands held, toes pointed, smiles wide and happy. Me and Dru at camp in that smelly old log cabin; Dru's head laying in my lap, a goofy smile on both our faces. Me and Dru on prom-night; Dru clutching Angel's arm with her left hand and my arm with her right, Xander on my other side sporting one of his stupid grins. Dru and me in our graduation caps; Dru pressing a kiss into my face while I've been caught in the middle of a guffaw of laughter. Dru and me in her first real apartment after college; the two of us posing in Madonna outfits, ready to go out and party the night away. Me and Dru on the night of her engagement a mere six months ago, the night my heart finally shattered into a million pieces, though you'd never guess from the photo of our smiling faces. The lights come back up as I turn my now blotchy face back towards Dru.



"Always and forever, Buff," she says, smiling at me. She mouthes I love you to me as the crowd breaks into awws and cheers and the occasional Happy Birthday. I smile and mouth I love you back and she places down her microphone to make her way over to me.



Before she can, I feel breath on my neck and a hand lightly resting on my upper back. My body breaks out in goosebumps and I know exactly who it is behind me.



"Happy Birthday, luv," he whispers in my ear. I briefly shut my eyes to savour his closeness before I can remind myself how wrong it is to enjoy the little stolen moments with him. Before I can get my fill of the savouring, I hear Dru's voice call out to the source of my happiness.



"Spike! Come help me get off the stage, my platforms are too high."



And he's gone. He's reaching out to help her down and she's laughing. Her arm is around his perfect shoulders and he's leaning into her and placing a kiss on her temple and I'm dying all over again. Happy Birthday to me.





----------------------------------------------------------





The first time me and Dru got drunk she was sick all over my bedroom carpet. We'd sneaked into my dad's study and found a bottle of whiskey that was half-finished and secreted it away to my bedroom. Dru said that since we were now teenagers, it was time to act like grown-ups. We'll never be treated as adults if we don't do what adults do, she'd said. She'd brought over one of her mom's shot glasses - of which Mrs Edna Rhone had many - and we took it in turns to drink the foul liquid. I lasted three glasses before I felt the first wave of nausea. Dru only made it two and in the midst of my third glass she vomited all over my carpet and turned the most hideous shade of green I'd ever seen.



That's the colour she is right now.



"Will you tell Spike that I'm fine, Buff! Come on, I don't wanna go home yet, it's your BIRTHDAY!"



The last word was yelled directly into my ear as she hung between Spike on her left and me on her right, her arms round both our shoulders.



"Spike's just looking out for you, Dru. You know what prolonged alcohol intake does to your complexion and I'm sure he doesn't want to marry you when your face looks like a map of China."



Spike chokes on a laugh as he catches my eye and I relish the feeling of me and him having something from which Dru is excluded for a second.



"No, you're right, you're right. My lovely Spike. He loves me too much to want me to be ugly."



Spike doesn't care about that, I want to say but that wouldn't really be my place. Instead, I plaster a smile on my face and help Spike half-drag Dru out of the bar onto the street. She hangs more on me as Spike sticks his hand out to hail a cab and I almost topple from the force when she pulls me to her to kiss me on the cheek.



"Happy Birthday, beast. Love you for always."



I am just about to reply when she continues.



"You really should use that cream I got you for your birthday, Buff. Your skin looks like a 90 year-old man's up close."



A cab pulls up and she disentangles herself from me and practically throws herself into Spike's arms, which immediately come around her. After he's deposited her in the cab he turns to me with a half-smile on his face.



"I'd have said it's more like a beautiful 30 year-old's."



He winks at me and I feel myself blush. I say thanks as he once again wishes me a happy birthday and then he's in the cab with Dru and they're driving away. I watch them go until they're out of sight and then turn to head back into the bar.





----------------------------------------------------------





Happy B-day B. Don't forget, life begins at 30. Or is it 40?



Fuck you, Harris.



Such language from such a sweet girl. What would Dru say?



Don't start. It's my birthday.



So I can start tomorrow then?



One more comment and I'm not texting you back.



Oh just keep your knickers on.



You've been in London for a year and already you're adopting the language?



Of course, gov'ner. Wot-wot.



Lol. I miss you.



So come visit me this summer.



Dru's getting married in 3 months. Can't.



Heaven forbid you not be there when she clicks her fingers, eh?



Strike 3. I'm out. I'll text you tomorrow. Love you xx



Yeah, yeah. Love you too, Buff. Happy B-day xx





I put my phone back in my bag - Prada clutch, thank you very much - and sigh.



The party-goers have dispersed. If I ever needed a clue that they were actually here for Dru and not me, I'd have got it as soon as I came back in. Most murmered their well-wishes but broke off into little groups and then finally made their way out the door, no invitation to come with them was offered. I retreated to the little booth I'm now sitting in and set a standing order at the bar for a Glenfiddich and soda water. It's my drink for two reasons: to piss off the pretentious, serious whiskey drinkers of the world who think it's sacrilege to put soda-water in their precious beverage of choice; and because it annoys Dru to be reminded of one of the few times I beat her in our lives.



So this is it. I'm now 30. Everyone my age is either married or getting married, in jobs that they love, living lives that are just bursting with possibilities and happiness and I'm sitting in a bar on my own, the sole-survivor of my lackluster birthday party that was attended by people I don't really know and who were all there to see my best friend. I'm alone, I hate my job and I've never had a long-term man in my life, unless you count Stanley the plumber who fixed the water pipe in my first post-college apartment and ended up stalking me for six months.



I still can't quite understand where I went so wrong. I did everything I was supposed to. I studied in school. I never took drugs. I didn't have sex 'til I thought it meant something (which it turns out it didn't - to him at least). I chose a sensible profession instead of following my dream (my real job is an editor at a publishing house, my dream job is an artist). And I always try to put others' feelings first. Xander says that's my biggest problem but then Xander also answers the phone saying "hell-ooooo!" so his opinion doesn't count.



I really wish he was here right now. While Dru was the traditional Best Friend TM, Xander was my closest friend. He moved to LA when he was 10 and me and Dru were 8. He moved in next to Dru and she immediately took a disliking to him. It never made sense to me because even as an 8 year old I could see that Xander was a good one, as my mom would say. He didn't pull my hair, like most boys did, he never made fun of my height and when Stacy Wright dumped her cola on my head in school, Xander pushed her face into her mashed-potatoes. When I wasn't with Dru, I was with Xander. He was my prom-date in senior year and spent the night trying to make me feel better when Dru was pressed against Angel on the dancefloor.



Angel. My high school crush. I had such a thing for him that whenever he was near me I felt like choking. Dru used to say it made me a freak that I couldn't talk to him. She said I had to make an impression. And I guess I did in the end. Right in his crotch, when he felt me up at the after-prom party when Dru was in the toilet. Turns out the way to cure my crush was to actually talk to him. He was an ass. A gropey ass. But I hadn't known that when Dru had started flirting with him in the halls at the start of our senior year.



We weren't freaks in school but we weren't cheerleaders either. Dru still sparkled though and was popular enough. I, of course, got by through my close association with Dru. It's one of the things that always sticks in my head when Xander goes on one of his rants about how Dru is poison to me. She could have dumped me on my ass in high school. There was an unspoken invitation from the popular elite that if she dumped me and made them her default friends, she'd be welcomed with open arms. But she never did. She gave up supreme popularity for her friendship with me and that's a damn big thing for a high-school girl.



Well anyway. She got with Angel. I was upset but never said anything. Xander moaned on my behalf and it all culminated on prom-night when he felt me up. I introduced myself to his crotch, though not the way he'd planned it, and Dru threw a hissy fit in Lisa Manson's living room. Xander still does impressions of her voice all high-pitched screaming "you son of a bitch!"



It makes me miss him more to think of old times. He moved to London about a year ago following his dream job (and dream girl) over the pond. I miss him more today than ever before. Mostly because he loves me and I love him. But also because he's my one outlet. He's the only one who knows my deepest secret. The only secret I have ever kept from Dru in my entire life. The one that keeps me up at night and makes me turn down every semi-normal man that tries to enter my life. The secret that breaks my heart about six times a week.



I'm in love with someone I can't have. I'm in love with someone I met first and then watched slide away from me. I'm in love with a man my best friend is going to marry in 82 days. I'm in love with Spike. Spike .. William ..



"Buffy?"



"Spike!"





----------------------------------------------------------





"What are you still doing here, pet?"



"Wh-what are you doing here?"



"Oh, I was sent back out," he smiles, ruefully. "Dru left her Chanel-clutch."



Of course. I have a Prada-clutch, so she's got to get a Chanel-clutch.



"Oh, do you want me to help you find it?"



"Already have, luv." He waves the bag at me with an adorable little hand shake and I fight the urge to giggle. "But then I saw you sitting here all alone. Where is everyone?"



"Oh, well--" I blush, not wanting to admit that actually everyone at my birthday party were Dru's friends, not mine. He's looking at me, though, like he knows it already so I abandon the sentence and just smile, releasing a huff of breath.



"Well, this just isn't right," he says, sliding into the booth opposite me. "The birthday girl can't be sitting on her own."



"It's not my birthday any more," I say, indicating the clock on the wall which reads 00:34am.



"Birthdays last 'til you go to bed and you know it, luv. It's the unspoken rule."



"Is that right?"



"Of course. The downside is that they also don't start 'til you wake up, as my mother told me on the night before my 9th birthday when I was trying to convince her to let me stay up 'til midnight so I could open my presents then."



Why, oh why is he so damn perfect?



I smile indulgently. "A lawyer from the cradle, weren't you?"



"No need to insult me, you little bitch."



I laugh and relax into it in a way I haven't allowed myself with him since the engagement party six months before. He's smiling at me, his eyes are twinkling and I feel myself warm from the tip of my toes to the top of my head.



"So, a birthday drink for the birthday girl. Glenfiddich and soda water?"



"You don't have to. Don't you have to get back to Dru?"



"Dru, at this very moment, is passed out cold on the couch and I am wide awake and sitting across from a girl in serious need of some birthday cheer. Besides, you're my friend too, aren't you? I don't always have to share you with Dru, do I?"



My heart starts going like one of those jungle drums as he looks right in my eyes. I fight the urge to just explode with the truth. I love you! I'm in love with you! I've loved you for years! You should have been with me! I loved you first! Why didn't you love me, want me, need me?



Instead, I down the rest of my drink and tip the glass to him.



"You know the drink. Don't make me wait for it on my birthday, Willie."



"Such a feisty bitch," he smirks, drifting over to the bar.



I thank whichever god is most fashionable these days for granting me this small amount of time in his company.





----------------------------------------------------------





When I got into UCLA I just about hit the ceiling with joy. It was my first choice. Okay, so I could have gone to a few other, better colleges. But UCLA was my first choice for a reason: Dru wanted to get in. She wanted it more than anything. Her father and mother had met there and it was her Mecca. Well, I got in. She didn't. Yeah, I know it's petty and I know it's childish and I know it says something awful about me that I felt great about it but I can't help it: I did feel great about it. Dru, of course, wasn't best pleased but she quickly re-directed it into other areas; namely making sure to beat me in every other way she could. So when I got an internship with a publishing house in my freshman year, which was almost impossible to do, she got her dad (Mr Ethan Thackery Rhone, thank you very much) to put in a call and get her an actual job, with no college education, with one of the biggest publishing houses in Los Angeles. It only lasted for three months because she ended up having an affair with one of the junior partners but it didn't matter. That was a very firm win to Dru. She showed me. Whatever I could do, she could do better.



But still, I almost flourished at college away from Dru. Oh, we were still inseparable outside of school but for those few hours a day I was in class or at the library and away from the immediate presence of Dru, I could feel myself breathing freely. I was lighter, happier. And that only got better on 15th October of my sophmore year.



I was in the library juggling about a million books in my midget arms, as Dru always called them (I'm 5 ft 2, she's 5ft 7) when I felt someone bump into my back as I stood between the stacks. I catapulted forward dropping every one of my books before sprawling spread-eagled on the floor, face down, on top of my pile of books, with my ass sticking up in the air.



The first thing I became aware of was a sound like someone choking. I gingerly pushed myself up from the floor to twist round and see what was making that noise. And that's when I saw him.



He was standing before me bent at the waist, hands braced on his legs, tears of laughter leaking from his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. He had shocking peroxide white hair; spiked up in some areas, curling in others. He was wearing what in LA is a big no-no - black jeans, black t-shirt (with Led Zeppelin written on it) and big combat boots. He was absolutely beautiful and my breath whooshed out of my mouth in a rush as I watched him raise his head to look into my eyes.



"I'm so sorry, really, I'm --" he said, still bent over and wheezing from laughter. "It's just you looked so funny. You looked like .." he started giggling again ".. a starfish."



I could feel my face cracking into a grin, despite the fact he had knocked me over and then started laughing at me. There was something about him that said he wasn't laughing at me, so much as the situation.



"You looked so --" he broke off again, bending over again to laugh and I found myself joining him, still sitting on the floor on top of my books. We laughed for what felt like forever, until I couldn't even remember what I'd found so funny in the first place, tears leaking out of our eyes and my cheeks hurting from smiling so much.



Eventually I looked back up at him and his laughter had died down to a half-embarrassed, half-fond smile. He reached out his hand to help me up and as I took it I felt an almightly zing of electricity surge through my arm. When I came to be standing in front of him, he flashed a brilliant grin at me and didn't let go of my hand while he bent down to one-handedly offer my fallen-books to me. I opened my bag to him and he stuffed in as many as he could, grabbing the ones that didn't fit and walking me over to a nearby empty table. All while still holding my hand.



I was in a daze by the time he finally let me go, falling into a seat only to have him fall into the one beside me.



"I'm Spike," he said, his eyes dancing.



"Buffy," I replied breathlessly.



"Nice to meet you, Buffy."



I was a goner from the start.





----------------------------------------------------------





His eyes did a twinkling thing when he got really into a story. They always had. His eyes are my first memory of him. Not his laughter or his hair or his clothes or his perfect face. His eyes. So blue. It always feels like they'll set me on fire if I look into them for too long.



".. couldn't tell her about it. I was desperately trying to signal her across the courtroom but she wouldn't look up at me. Probably thought I was trying to flip her the bird or something."



"Well, you did hate her and she knew it."



"Yeah, but not enough to let her walk around a court with her skirt tucked into her knickers. Not a complete bastard, am I?"



"No, you're not," I laugh. "Although you did assault me then laugh at me the first time we met."



"You looked like a starfish!" he yells, laughing, gaining us the attention of a few patrons still left in the bar.



One of them, a gorgeous brunette who looks very much like Drusilla, openly oogles Spike. In his suit with his jacket off, his hair still the same spiked white peroxide blonde as in college, he is without doubt the hottest guy in the bar - hell, in my opinion, in the whole damn city - and the brunette quickly zeroes in on the other hottest person in the bar, no doubt wanting to mate with him and make perfectly-featured spawn. Her eyes turn to me, the drab blonde in a pinafore sitting with the Greek-god-like man and her nose wrinkles as she clearly tries to work out what the hell I'm doing here being blessed with the company of this beautiful man.



Spike seems to notice my gaze and directs his across the bar to the brunette, who immediately perks up and flashes him her best flirty gaze.



"She's wondering what the hell you're doing sitting here with me," I tell him wryly.



"Why wouldn't I be sitting with you?"



"Stunning people should be with stunning people," I reply. I can tell my tongue has been loosened by the alcohol because there's no way I would tell Spike I think he's stunning in my everyday life. It's too close to I love you, marry me, love me, live with me forever.



He seems taken aback by my answer and looks almost shy as he asks me, "Since when did you find me stunning, pet?"



And once again my Glenfiddich and soda water takes over as I answer.



"Oh come on. Since the second I met you. Why else would I want you all through college if I found you repulsive, Spike? I'm not that twisted."



His face goes slack, his eyes focused on mine, as he sits up straighter in his seat. I feel the world's biggest blush begin to spread on my face as I replay what I just said to him in my head.



"You had a crush on me back then?" he asks in an oddly intent, strained voice.



I try to laugh it off, figuring that's the best way out of this.



"Oh come on, you knew."



He just looks at me. Doesn't say a word, doesn't twitch. His eyes become almost sad and I wonder what it is that's made him react this way. The laughter disappears from my face and I know I'll have to avoid him for a few weeks to get over the awkwardness of this moment, so close to just blurting out how much it hurts when I'm near him, knowing I'll never have him, never be able to show him how perfect we are for each other.



As this goes through my head he just sits there looking at me and I can't bring myself to even get embarrassed as I gaze back at him.





----------------------------------------------------------





"Two stops. Going to the West Village and then Tribeca."



He's sitting next to me stiff as a board and I can't bring myself to glance over at him. Oh god, what if he's figured it all out; why I act so strange around him when he's with Dru, why I never date anyone, why I disappeared from both his and Dru's life for a few months after they got together. I can only hope he won't tell Dru, if he has figured it out. She would never speak to me again and then not only would I not have Spike in my life, but Dru would be gone too.



The silence is starting to eat away at me, so I crack and begin to ramble.



"Look, I'm sorry, Spike. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I don't even know why I said it, I mean you're with Dru and I'm .. I'm, you know, I'm fine, I'm great."



My head turns in his direction, expecting to see him embarrassed and facing away from me and I'm shocked to see he's staring right at me. His eyes are black and burning and he looks as if he might be shaking a little. I open my mouth to ask him if he's okay when it happens.



He surges forward, wrapping my face in his hands as he devours my mouth. His tongue is tracing the seam of my lips and I'm half-convinced I'm asleep, so I open my mouth and then he's in my mouth and I'm in his, his hands twisting my head to and fro as if he's trying to bury himself in me. My eyes snap open as he pulls away to look at my face, his forehead pressed against mine, our breathing erratic and harsh, his eyes burning into mine.



"Buffy," he whispers against my lips and I can't help it, I'm not even thinking as I press myself into him, my hands wrapping around his head to pull him back to me. His hands slide down my back to hold me firmly against him. Our moans make it all the way to the front seat where the cab driver smiles a knowing smile.



"Guess it's just one stop then."

Trying to get my key in the lock when Spike is pressed against me, his tongue in my mouth, his hands on my ass pressing me into him, is extremely difficult. Spike groans as he pulls away, grabbing the key from me and deftly opening the door and dragging me inside. The second the door closes he's on me again and I moan long and low when his hands gather me close to him and press me against his erection.



I rip his jacket from his shoulders as his hands tackle the zip on the back of my work dress. I hear two thuds in succession and realise it's his shoes when I almost trip on them as we make our way, stumbling into the bedroom.



Then he's stripping my dress from me and I'm ripping his shirt off his body, my greedy hands groping any inch of flesh they come in contact with. My shoes are gone, my bra soons follows, joined on the floor by his pants and I barely have time to note that he goes commando before we're lying on the bed completely naked, except for my distinctly unsexy white cotton panties.



He's kissing me again and I can't help but moan into his mouth as his hands, now freed of having to hold me upright, are now roaming all over my body. He cups my breasts, his thumbs flick my nipples and wander down my stomach and back up, groping and caressing my body, his mouth trailing a series of wet kisses from my mouth to my jaw to my neck and then he's sucking on my pulse through my skin. I swear I almost come right then and there. But then I would miss what happens next.



His mouth trails down to my breasts and I swear I hear him murmur my name in an awed voice right before he sucks my nipple into his mouth. I see stars. I'm panting and scratching at his back and he's sucking on my breasts like he needs them to live and I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I ..



".. can't breathe."



"What?" he murmurs, freeing my breast from his mouth with a wet noise. His eyes catch mine and the look we share almost breaks through the fog in my mind - what it is we're doing. But then he does it again ..



"Buffy."



The awe in his voice and his eyes pulls me back down into this moment that we've stolen for ourselves. He's kissing me again and before I know it, his hand is between our bodies manipulating me to climax as he watches hungrily. I come with his name on my lips, my voice sounding hoarse and scratchy and his eyes darken even more than before. Before I know it, my panties are gone completely and he's lining up with the entrance into my body.



He stops almost completely as he catches my dazed eyes and something passes through us as we look at each other. I nod almost imperceptibly and then he's pushing into me. His skin feels like velvet inside me and when he's all the way inside he stops and gasps. I'm panting and I can't believe he's part of me, I can't believe it. He's with me, finally. I have him, finally. I can show him I love him ..



".. finally!" I say out loud and his eyes refocus on me, where before they had been lost to bliss.



"Finally," he agrees, his hand on my temple, his thumb stroking my skin. With one final beat of anticipation, he starts to move within me, over me, with me and the dam breaks. I give myself over to him completely, undulating under him as he feverishly pounds into me, his eyes locked with mine the entire time. It feels like this is what was missing from my life since I was born; this connection with this man.



His groans and my gasps intermingle as our open mouths hover over each other. One of his arms is around my waist as he thrusts into me madly, my legs wrapped so tightly round him I wonder that he can even move. I feel like I've never been this close to another human being before and, unless I can have him again, I never will be again after this.



His hands reach down to grab mine from his sides and he slides them up the mattress to press them knuckles down into my pillow and he links our fingers in both hands. He slows his pace and it makes it so much more real for me. I can feel my eyes filling with tears because no-one will ever know how perfect this is except us. He kisses the spilled tears from my face because I think he understands, I really think he does and I'm sure I see the telltale sign of tears in his own eyes and it finally does me in. I come. I come and come and I feel like I'll never stop. His gaze is boring into mine as his own orgasm hits him, his eyes going wide and almost tortured, both of our bodies spasming uncontrollably. When he stills on top of me, I don't even care that we're so sweaty we're sliding against each other; I don't care when normally I'd be running for the bathroom to clean myself up. I don't care because he's still in me and his face is buried in my neck and I can feel his breath on my throat, his heartbeat in his chest against mine.



I wrap him in my arms and after a long moment of silence where we're just grasping at each other trying to come down from the height of pleasure, he slides to the side of me pulling me with him so we're lying on our sides face to face, arms tightly wound around each other's bodies, still so intimately connected. We're looking into each other's eyes. I can feel the real world wanting to break into this moment and I desperately want to ward it off, send it away. I want to stay here in this moment for the rest of my life.



"Don't say anything," I tell him with pleading eyes and he smiles a sad smile and pulls me in for a kiss which lingers. When we pull away he leans his forehead against mine and breathes my name again.



"Buffy."



It's the last thing I hear before I fall into the most peaceful sleep I've had in years.



When I wake up the next morning, his eyes are the first thing I see.



The first thing I hear, though, is Dru's voice on my answering machine.



"Buffy! Wake up and answer your goddamn phone, Spike didn't come home last night!"





----------------------------------------------------------





"Oh god, oh god, oh god."



I leap from the bed, my eyes wide, my heart hammering in my chest like Thumper's foot. He sits up, the sheet falling to his waist and I want to cover my eyes but I feel like I can't move.



"Buffy--"



"Don't! Don't. Oh god, oh god."



"Buffy, please--"



"No! You can't, we can't, I .. we can't have done that, oh god, tell me we didn't do that, oh god!"



He stills, his mouth opening but no sound coming out of it. The phone goes again and it's Dru, of course. She's demanding I answer and tell her where Spike went and how he'd better be lying at the side of the road because she'd rather he be dead than cheating on her. My face loses all colour and I feel myself begin to faint. He's there then, leaping from the bed and rushing to my side.



He sits me down on the bed. When he touches me, I flinch. He notices, I can tell, because he backs off immediately and perches on my dresser across from me. He's naked but it doesn't really penetrate my mind because I'm in a fog of self-loathing and guilt.



"I'm a horrible person. Oh god, we're horrible people! I slept with my best friend's husband!"



"I'm not her husband yet," he says in a quiet voice but I barely even hear him.



"Oh god, I'm the other woman! I'm Glenn Close! I'm gonna end up floating in bloody water in a bathtub and everyone will remember me as a crazy man-stealing slut with bad hair!"



I know I'm rambling and being quite pathetic but that's no reason for him to chuckle at me. God, if ever there was a time for him to not laugh, it's now. But he does anyway.



"Buffy, you don't have bad hair."



I fix him with a glare I didn't even know I had and apparently he didn't know I had it either because he looks almost fearful as I open my mouth.



"What's funny about this, Spike?"



He sighs. "Nothing. I can safely say there is nothing funny about this."



"Oh god, what're we gonna do? What am I going to say to her? Should we tell her? It'll break her! Oh god--"



"Buffy!" he half-shouts at me, breaking my daze. He crouches in front of me, holding my upper arms in his warm hands. I feel the zing again and I wonder if he does.



"Look, it's okay. It'll be okay."



"How? How will it be okay, Spike?" I plead. He gets quiet for so long that I wonder if he's ever going to answer me. His head drops as he seems to be wrestling with something he's afraid to say and I think he's going to ask me to forget it ever happened. My stomach drops out. This will be my punishment. I'll get to know that the best moment of my life is his biggest regret. How could it not be? He's in love with Drusilla. She's his whole world. I'm a by-product of too much booze and it being my birthday and .. oh god, what if it was pity? What if the whole time I was crying with the euphoria of finally being with him and he was drunk and merely taking pity on his terminally single college friend who spent her birthday drinking alone in a bar. Oh god, I can't take that, I just can't.



I'm torn. I don't know what I want him to say. I want him to say he loves me and always has and will leave her if I ask him to. But I also want him to say that of course they should forget it because Dru means so much to them both and they can't punish her for their mistake. I want him to be both: I want him to be the good guy and the bad guy. More than anything, I want him to decide for me because I can't. I can't choose. I can't pick the girl I've always loved over the boy I've always loved. I just can't.



But he isn't saying anything. Not one single thing. So maybe he's thinking the same thing. Maybe he's thinking choose for me, Buffy. Maybe he wants me to say it's okay; that yes, we made this mistake but he can still keep Dru. I don't know! Oh god, I don't know what to do and he's touching me - I can't think when he does that.



"It was a mistake .. right?" I ask in a wavering voice.

His head whips up. His eyes bore into mine. They're filled with sorrow and remorse and I feel like that's my answer. So, he regrets this .. of course, he regrets this. He just wants me to let him know he'll still have Dru - that he hasn't ruined his life for poor little Buffy Summers.



"So, it was a mistake," I start with a nod, somehow finding more bravado than I ever expected to. My eyes are cast to the floor now and I'm desperately trying to ignore the feel of his hands biting into my upper arms. "We were drunk. We didn't know what we were doing. 'Cause you love Dru, Spike, I know you do. It was just -- you can't lose Dru because of a drunk night with me. And I can't -- oh god, she's Dru. I've been her best friend forever. How can I ..?" I trail off, my eyes starting to water, though I'm not sure from what; guilt or the loss of this man for the second time. I shake my head in frustration. "We'll just forget it ever happened .. right?" I ask and although outwardly I'm asking him to agree with me, my insides are screaming. Please tell me it wasn't a mistake. Please tell me you love me, you've always loved, you will always love me.



But then he could have had me. He could have had me and he chose Dru. He must have known that all those years ago, he must have. This isn't the same thing to him as it is to me. This isn't the biggest moment in his life. This is the biggest regret of his life. Oh god, I'll never have him again. I never really did.



"Is that what you want?" he asks in a strained voice but before I can answer, the phone goes again and of course it's Dru, shouting at me to get up and help her figure out where Spike is. I get a sudden flash of the night my mother died and Dru slept over in my bed with me; holding me all night, her 10-year-old arms wrapped around my 10-year-old body, her voice telling me I'd always have her, not to cry, I'd always have her. Another flash; Spike and Dru the night they announced their engagement and how happy Dru was with him.



"That's the way it is, right?" I say in a small voice, my eyes still avoiding his. "I mean, you love Dru. You don't want to throw that away on a mistake."



He releases my arms abruptly and stands, stumbling a little when he turns his back to me. It finally registers that he's naked and I turn to my side, averting my eyes from his perfect back and ass. I barely hear his voice when he speaks.



"Yeah, a mistake."



I have to focus. I have to stop this; stop this feeling sorry for myself. I'm messing with both of these people's lives and I'm sitting here practically weeping over what I'm losing. God, I feel sick.



"I have to phone Dru," I start, trying to will my voice to be strong. But then it hits me again. Oh fuck, I have to phone Dru! "What am I gonna say?" I whisper, not expecting an answer.



"Just tell her what happened," he murmurs.



"What?" My eyes snap up to him in shock.



He sighs again, his back still turned to me.



"I mean, just tell her I saw you still at the bar, we got sloshed and I crashed at your place. On the couch."



"Yeah, on the couch, okay. Oh god, this is awful, I'm so awful, oh god--"



"Buffy, stop!" he says, almost angrily. "It wasn't just you, okay? You're not awful, we just .."



"Did something awful."



I can see his face twist in a grimace and he looks almost hurt. He turns back round to face me and again, it hits me that he's naked and suddenly my blush has made a return.



"Yeah, awful," he says quietly.



"Can you -- you're naked, Spike."



"So're you, Buffy."



"Well, can we not be naked any more, please? This is bad enough."



"So you've made clear, pet."



"Spike, please. How can you be so blase about this whole thing? You just cheated on your wife!"



"She's not my wife yet, Buffy!" he states plainly but I have no idea what he's getting at and I don't want to see the distinction. If Dru's his wife it makes this worse and somehow that makes me feel better.



"It doesn't matter! You asked her to marry you--"



"She asked me."



"You promised to .. what?"



"I said, she asked me to marry her. I didn't propose."



"You didn't?"



"No."



"Dru told me you did."



He barks a sad laugh as he breaks away from the dresser behind him. I have no idea what's going through his head right now - or mine, to be quite honest. Everything feels very dreamlike as he darts out of the room, scooping up the trail of clothing as he goes and when he comes back he's in his pants. He throws my dress onto the bed beside me with a tired sigh.



"So what's it to be, kitten?" he asks with a note of anger in his voice. I hate the thought he's angry with me. But then, why wouldn't he be? He got drunk with me and almost threw away his whole life.



"I have to phone her and tell her you're on your way home to her."



"Whatever you want, luv."



"Please don't call me that," I ask in a small voice. I'm terrified I'll start crying in front of him, perched on the end of my bed naked, wrapped in a sheet that's no doubt sporting the spendings of our night together; the night together that's still making my skin tingle. I can feel my heart breaking at the thought that I had him in my arms, finally, and now I have to watch him slide away again. I had him. I don't even know why I had him - what it was last night that made him want this. But he did. For a few hours anyway. It's amazing I had him even for a few hours. He's a god. Dru's a goddess. I'm just Buffy. Now more than ever, I can't believe I ever thought he would want me over Dru.



"Sorry, lu-- Buffy."



"I have to phone her. Can you ..?"



"Yeah, okay. I guess I'll see you .. sometime."



He's looking at me with a sadness that unsettles me and I can't stop thinking about what he must be feeling right now. He could have lost Dru because of a drunken mistake with me. I'm a little amazed he's even talking to me. I wrap the bedsheet more firmly around me and walk out to the living room, grabbing the phone and praying that I'll be able to pull this off. If I ruin Spike and Dru, any more than I already have, she'll never forgive me or him. And if Spike loses Dru I don't know what he'll do. I have to make this right. I have to keep it together. I have to make up for my selfishness. I just don't know how I'm going to do it.





----------------------------------------------------------





She bought it. And just thinking that sentence makes me feel dirty. I fed my best friend a line and she bought it. Because why wouldn't she? It's not like she knows I'm a slut who slept with her fiance the second her back was turned. I've always been able to justify how being in love with Spike didn't neccesarily make me a bad person. You can't help who you love, right?



But you can help who you have sex with. That's the line you don't cross. And I crossed it.



Spike's at my apartment door when I finish my phone call. He's standing with his hand on the doorknob, gripping it so hard his knuckles are white and I don't know if I should say something or wait for him to leave so he can forget he made this awful mistake. I know I'll be crying all weekend and all I can think is how I can avoid Dru so she won't see my red eyes or how puffy my cheeks are - so she can't make me tell her why I'm so miserable.



"Are you sure this is what you want?" His voice sounds fragile as he asks me this with his back turned. "Don't you think we should tell her?"



"What would we tell her?" I ask him quietly.



"We could tell her the truth."



"And how would that help anyone?" Dru wouldn't have Spike, Spike wouldn't have Dru and I wouldn't have either. No-one wins. But despite what it would cost him he's willing to risk it all to be honest? I can't let him do that. He loves her. I can't let him lose her. That's at least something I can do for them.



"She's your fiance. You love her. And she's been my best friend my whole life, Spike. I don't know who I am without her. How can we do that to her?"



His shoulders slump and he opens the door quickly.



"Right, it wouldn't help anyone," he says. He glances back at me, standing in my living room with a sheet wrapped around my naked body, my hair surely sticking every-which-way in the air and he looks close to tears. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I'm so, so sorry."



He turns and leaves, the door closing heavily behind him. Which is a good thing because I can't hold back the tears at the sorrow on his face, the regret of what he could have thrown away in drunken-ness. He could have thrown away Dru and he's so, so sorry. And I'm just about as broken as I've ever been.



TBC

The worst moments of my life all have Dru in them. I don't know what that says about our friendship but that's the truth. Some are Dru's fault, some are mine and some are just life. The biggest problems I've had in life never turned out to be the ones I had worried about for weeks or months beforehand, like my exams. I was a wreck for weeks in high school before we took the SATs and Dru scolded me constantly because I wasn't being her wingman at the weekends. But then I aced them completely. 720 math, 800 verbal. I never did find out what Dru's scores were but she assured me they were higher than mine.



No, the biggest problems were things like coming in from playing outside to find my mother's lifeless body on the living room couch. I remember how white and cold her face was to this day. It's there in exact detail as if I was looking at her right now. I don't suppose it'll ever go away. I can remember that. I can't remember what happened right after I found her. All I remember is that I found her, saw her face and then I was wrapped in Dru's arms. Sometimes my dad's too but mostly Dru's. It all goes blurry then and the next thing I can remember is it being 2 in the morning and I'm lying in bed crying with Dru wrapped around me. The funeral is less of a blur but again, the most distinct part of it is the smell of Dru's hair, the feel of her hand holding mine, the sound of her voice telling me I'd always have her. Pretty strong stuff for a 10-year-old. Sometimes I think it's the trauma of that moment that cemented me and Dru together so tightly.



Xander says she uses me and I let her. But he's hardly objective, is he? He and Dru have always had this hate-hate thing going on. I've never really understood why but I always saw it as they were like two magnets drawing me in and they just couldn't help but repel each other, it was their magnet-nature. And he was never really around for the moments when Dru was my everything. She wasn't all bad. She isn't all bad now. If I didn't love her and she didn't love me there wouldn't be a problem, would there? Well anyway, he says she's a user, poison, someone who steps on me because she can - because I let her. I wonder what he'd say about this then?



I haven't told him yet. I don't want want to hear another of his rants about how Dru is the baddie. I can't listen to that right now because everything I've ever read, every movie I've ever seen and every instinct as a girl tells me that I'm the bitch in this situation. I slept with my best friend's fiance. I slept with him. It doesn't matter that I met him first, loved him first. It doesn't matter that he's the only thing in the world that's ever made me feel complete since I saw my mother's white, cold face. It doesn't matter because she has him. And I stole a piece of him for myself.



The Xander voice in my head is telling me that she did it to me first .. but she didn't. Spike chose Dru. Dru didn't steal him from me. I was standing there when it happened, after all. The memory is pretty much ingrained on my brain. I know exactly what happened.





----------------------------------------------------------





I'd always heard that college was a time of freedom and while that has the makings of a cheesy teen movie, it turned out to be true. For me at least. I had a piece of my life that wasn't ruled by Dru. She wasn't in it, it was mine and everything in that piece of my life was mine. And I had every intention of keeping it that way. But then I made the biggest mistake of my entire life, one for which I pay every single day.



I got scared. Like I said, I never really moved past all those pathetics hurts and insecurities of youth. Sometimes a rebellious part of me thinks that Dru never let me leave them behind but surely I let her do it to me? It's all my fault in the end and I can't blame Dru for going after what she wanted. Even if it was what I wanted too.



It happened in the middle of my senior year. Spike was looking to get into a law school after we were finished and I was thinking of maybe sticking around to get another degree, something that baffled him beyond all measure. We'd been study-buddies for most of our tenure at college, something I kept hidden in the imaginary walls of the campus. At the time I would have said I just didn't think to ask him into my life proper because we were just friends, study-buddies. But now I know I was afraid of what would happen if I took him outside those walls.



We'd been sitting in the library not too far from where we'd first met, when he asked me.



"Hey Summers," he'd said, with an uncharacteristically guarded look on his face.



"Yeah?" I said around a mouthful of cheese sandwich that I was trying to eat while hiding from the staff, because I knew their crazy policy about eating around the 'precious books'.



"What do you say we go out for a real drink this weekend, huh? Celebrate the last few months of college in style?"



I started choking. I could feel my face threatening to turn a horrible purple colour when his hand reached over to pat me on the back, helping me to swallow. When I raised my eyes to his, he had that smirk in place - the one that made my toes curl - and I couldn't help but smile at him.



"Okay," I said shyly.



"Okay?"



"Yeah. I mean I'm allowed to celebrate, after working all these years."



"You don't have to justify it to yourself, Buffy. You're allowed to have fun, you know."



"Tell that to my dad. But I am allowed, right? People go out with friends all the time and -- and we're friends, right?" I asked, wanting him to say no, not friends, Buffy! Future lovers and perfect married couple! but of course he didn't.



"Yeah, we're friends," he replied quietly.



So there it was. I had a not-sure-if-it's-a-date-but-it-might-be-a-date date with the boy I'd been in love with, at that time, for three years. The boy that quite literally had to fight off the girls with a stick. Or so he told me, but even as gullible as I was back then I found it hard to believe that he'd actually had to poke a girl with an actual stick in Biology class at his high school back in England to get her to stop asking him out. But then again, he was worth getting poked with a stick for. If you got him, that is. And I was hoping against hope that I would get him. I was hoping so much that he would finally realise I'd been in love with him since sophmore year of college and every time we got together on campus was the highlight of my life. That he was the jewel in the crown of college for me. He was my ticket to freedom - a life of my own.



Of course I should have known what would happen. I should have known not to ask her. But she was my best friend and I was scared of making a fool of myself and losing Spike altogether. So I phoned her. I just wasn't sure if he wanted to go out as my friend, which is all we'd ever been, or if he had finally seen me as a girl and wanted me the way I wanted him. So I phoned her. And she very quickly volunteered to come along. I'll be your wingman for a change, she'd said. I should have known what would happen. I'd been kidding myself for years that the hottest, smartest, sweetest, funniest guy I'd ever met would want me. Especially when a goddess like Dru was in the room. I'd always been so careful of what I said about Spike to Dru in the years he'd been just mine. I guess there was a part of me that knew as soon as he saw her and she saw him it would be over. And while I thought it would hurt, I never knew just how much it would hurt until it happened.





----------------------------------------------------------





I was late. I got stuck at work - the traditional coffee house college job - when a co-worker called in sick and I couldn't get Dru on her cell. So by the time I got home, changed and got to the bar they were already in there. Together. I could see his hair as soon as I walked through the door. And when my eyes focused on them I felt my heart shatter fully for the first time. But not the last.



He was perched on a bar stool in the corner with Dru practically in his lap. She had her big wide eyes open and I knew she was pulling out the big guns, which meant she liked him. A lot. And he was smiling at her, that secret little smile that always made my knees weak; the one that made me feel so special. Oh god, he was smiling that smile at her and I thought I would die right there; half in, half out the door of some cheesy bar in LA. I tried to get my feet to move but I just couldn't. I felt frozen, all my worst fears coming true right in front of me. It wasn't until I was bumped from behind and I fell forward, crashing slightly into a nearby table, that I broke out of my daze. Of course by that time I was the focus of the whole bar, including Spike and Dru, and they were making their way over to me as I stood just inside the bar, my dress now covered in some luminous alcohol that was seeping into my skin as I stood there, awaiting their arrival.



"Buffy, are you okay?" he asked me, his expression caught between anxiety and concern and all I could think was that she wanted him, she wanted him .. and she'd get him, of course. She was at that moment standing just behind him mouthing 'oh god, so hot' at me and pointing at Spike. I felt a wave of nausea fly through my body and I needed fresh air more than anything at that moment in time.



"I'm actually not feeling too great, you guys," I found myself saying, desperate to be gone, to be away from their flirtation. "That's why I'm so late. So I think I'll just head home," I mumbled, turning to leave. I heard Dru shout that she'd call me and I just couldn't believe the feeling of misery that overtook me. She'd call me. After spending a night with my Spike. Oh god, I thought I was going to be sick.



I paused on the sidewalk outside, trying to gather my thoughts and make some sense of what had happened to my dream night. I'd done what I'd always known I shouldn't have - I'd shoved Spike and Dru into each other's orbits and they, of course, chose the perfection of each other over the mousy mess that was me. The one in a million chance that he liked me the way I liked him turned out to be in fact zero in a million and whatever chance I'd had to make him really see me would have evaporated the second he laid eyes on Dru. Dru; who everyone always flocked to, who got everything and everyone I'd ever wanted. I felt a bubble of semi-hysterical laughter bubble up in my throat. Of course it happened like this. It always had in the past. Why did I think this would be any different?



"Buffy?"



I turned at the sound of his voice, swallowing my bitterness as best I could. When I looked at him my head was such a jumble of thoughts and feelings that I had no idea what I was going to do. I didn't know whether I was going to just turn and run down the street to get away from him or just start beating him over the head with my bag, screaming why don't you love me!. I settled for plastering the fakest smile on my face.



"Yeah?"



"Are you .. are you okay?" He seemed so strangely nervous and I felt my stomach drop. The idea he was aware of what I felt for him filled me with blind panic as I stood there watching him. God, I was hoping against hope he wouldn't realize I was wearing my date dress. I couldn't stand the idea of him knowing; if he'd known I loved him and was sitting there wanting Dru and thinking how he could let me down gently. God, I would've rather he hated me than pitied me.



"Sure, I'm okay. I'm just tired and covered in someone's drink," I laughed shakily. I swung my shoulder around with a fixed smile, indicating I'd just keep walking down the street, but before I could turn away he grabbed my arm and turned me back.



"No. I mean, are you okay .. you know, Dru said--"



"Oh yeah, you two. You should totally -- you'd be perfect for each other, don't you think?" I said lightly, the bile rising in my throat, my face a hair's-breadth away from cracking but I reigned it in. I don't know how but I did.



"You -- you think so?" he asked faintly.



"Sure, I've always thought you two would be great together," I lied, using up a year's worth of bravado.



"Oh," he'd said. I couldn't bring myself to look into his eyes. I could hear myself telling him I was cold and had to get home or my dress would have a luminous green patch until the end of time and then he'd let me go. I walked away down the street and couldn't imagine ever feeling worse. It was all over. Another win in the Dru column and she hadn't even really been trying that time.





----------------------------------------------------------





So that was that. Spike and Dru, Buffy's friends became Spike & Dru, the couple. And that's the way it's been ever since. It's been years now and it hasn't ever got any easier. Seeing them together, hearing Dru tell me how good he is to her, how passionate he is as a lover, how he worships the ground she walks on. Turns out I lost Spike anyway. Over the years he's gone from being my friend to Dru's boyfriend and while we're still in each other's lives, there's always a barrier there. Always. Dru is smack-dab in the middle of us and I can see it every time he looks at me; that wall behind his eyes that stops me from getting to really see him the way I used to.



There have been moments when I thought I'd get a reprieve. Like when Spike got the job offer in New York. I thought it would all be over. They'd move and I'd stay in LA and it would finally be over. But of course Dru couldn't have that. She'd begged me to go and even though by that time I had a job I liked and Spike looked uncomfortable and Xander knew about my feelings for Spike and desperately tried to get me to say no to her, I just couldn't. She'd cried, for god's sake. She'd cried and begged me to go with them to New York; said she couldn't live her life without me. And I went. I'm here. I moved across the country to continue to torture myself. And six months ago when we all went out to dinner and Dru told me they were getting married, I looked from Spike's surprisingly quiet face to the huge ring on Dru's finger and felt that last part of me die. The last part of hope, however wrong it was to have it. It was over. All done.



Only apparently it wasn't. I got him. For a little while. I had my moment in the sun. And in the process I betrayed not only Dru but myself too. My much-vaunted principles. I've always resented her getting what I want, what I love but I can't excuse this. I betrayed her in the worst way possible; I slept with her future husband. God knows what he was thinking on my birthday but I know what I was thinking. I was thinking .. finally. I finally got him. And the thing that makes me feel worst is that I can't even bring myself to regret it. I just can't. I had him.



I'm crying, as I knew I would be. It's the second day of my thirties and already I've started on a bum note. I can smell him on my sheets and I just can't bring myself to wash them yet. It makes me feel less alone when I can smell him on my pillow. But I know I'll have to do it eventually. Wash the sheets. Forget the night. Get on with getting on. Erase it all from my mind. But not right now. Right now I'm going to sit in my PJs on my bed and relive the feeling of when he was with me, when I finally had him after all these years. I'm still not sure if it's worse than before. Now that I know what it's like to touch him, smell him, look into his eyes. No, I'm not sure if it'll be worse in the end but I can't bring myself to care right now. He was mine for a couple of hours and before I make myself forget, I want to enjoy remembering.





TBC

I've been dodging Dru for a few weeks but I know it can't last. She's taken a house in the Hamptons this summer; we all have. I had been looking forward to it actually. Before my birthday, that is. I'd thought it would be the highlight of my summer - every weekend for two months getting to be around Spike and even though I knew it was wrong, it was at least innocently wrong. The only person I was hurting was myself. But now I've gone beyond it. I've hurt Spike. I've hurt Dru, even if she doesn't know it. I've hurt myself. Though I guess I deserve it, don't I? I took what wasn't mine and now I have to give it back.



Spike's called me a few times since my birthday but I've screened. He left a message one night, said he needed to talk to me but I just couldn't bear to hear what he'd say. How it was eating away at him that he'd done this to his Dru. How he felt so guilty and dirty because of what we did. I couldn't stand to hear how much of a mistake it was to him because it wasn't a mistake to me at all. I know it was wrong, I know it would devastate Dru, I know it would destroy Spike if he lost Dru, but I just can't regret it. Not yet. I had him. For a few hours I could touch him and look into him and let him look into me and I had him. Oh god, it was what I've always wanted. How can I regret that?



It makes me an awful person, I know. I must be the worst kind of human being to betray someone who has done nothing but love me her whole life. And I've always had the feeling that Dru needed me in some vital way. When she begged me to come across the country with them, I'm still not sure if I moved because I'd get to still see Spike or because Dru was so desperate for me to be there with her. She's always needed me, in a way. I have to get it together. Three weekends in a row now I've said oh I can't come, I need to work, but Dru won't believe that forever. I have to go to the Hamptons with them. I have to smile when appropriate and listen to Dru tell me about Spike being so perfect for her and pretend to be normal. I have to look at Spike and pretend I don't love him. Which was easier before I'd had him. But now I know how he tastes, how he feels, what his eyes look like when he's inside me.



I just have to suck it up. That's what Xander would say if I was brave enough to tell him what I'd done. Just suck it up and deal. That's the plan, anyway.





----------------------------------------------------------





The plan's not going well. The Hamptons are usually a place to have fun. Summer-time, friends, frollick and fun. Not this year. As soon as I got into the car I could smell him. He was driving and Dru was, of course, up front next to him in her rightful place. I was in the backseat with a work-friend of Spike's that was accompanying us and staying at the house. His name's Riley and I listened as best I could while he prattled on about his former life in the army and how he was originally from Iowa or Idaho or blah blah. But all the while I was trying to fight my eyes in their attempts to wander to Spike. I could make out the side of his face the whole drive and a part of me kept pleading with him to look at me. He never did.



Well, that was a few hours ago and we're now all out on the beach round a campfire. Dru's reclining on Spike's quiet form as he looks into the fire. They're across from me and his face is being warped by the heat from the fire. Riley keeps trying to get me to engage with him but I just don't have the energy. He's very nice and sweet but I honestly just couldn't care less. God, I'm a bitch.



"Well, I think it's time to get the fun started, don't you, Riley?" Dru asks, her mischief-making face on.



"Well sure, I'm up for some fun," he grins, shooting yet another hopeful glance my way.



"So Buff: truth or dare," asks Dru with that twinkle in her eye that lets me know she's on a matchmaking quest.



I sigh. "Aren't we a little old for that, Dru?"



"Pfft, you're never too old for truth or dare. Come on, pick one!"



The thing with Dru is she never lets things go. Once she has something in her mind, she'll make it happen and arguing doesn't penetrate her skull. It doesn't matter how many times you turn her down. She's like the Russian army. She'll take a pounding and just come back at you stronger next time. She always wins in the end.



"Dare, I guess."



I sigh inwardly when she giggles. I can tell that's exactly what she wanted me to say.



"Okay, I dare you to .. kiss Riley."



Spike's head snaps away from the fire, focusing on me before darting to Riley and there's a tension in him as he watches us.



"Oh come on, Dru," I half-laugh.



"I'm game if you are, Buffy," Riley says from beside me. He's got this little boy look on his face and I feel bad that he's caught up in this mess. He's a nice enough guy and no doubt Dru's been chatting in his ear for weeks, trying to get me together with him. I decide to just get it all over with.



"Okay."



"Ah-ah! Remember the truth or dare rules! It has to be at least 10 seconds. With tongue."



"Dru, stop it," Spike says harshly and she turns to look at him.



"What's wrong with you, grumpy?"



"Nothing. I just think you should leave them alone, that's'all."



"Besides, that's spin-the-bottle rules, Dru," I say but again I'm stopped by Riley, who puts his hand on my arm.



"I don't mind, Buffy. You're beautiful. Kissing you for ten seconds will pretty much be the highlight of my year."



I plaster a smile on my face because I know that's what my response should be, but I just can't find it in myself to enjoy it. When I kiss him it feels like when Dru and I used to practice on our dolls. It's plastic and I can't help but think of all those feverish kisses shared with Spike. The way he held me, the way he kissed me with his whole being, the sparks that flew across my body as his lips carressed mine. The memory of that takes hold of my body and I enthustiastically deepen the kiss with Riley in an attempt to bring some of that magic out with him. After the ten seconds, though, I know it's not going to happen and I pull away, making sure to half-smile at him so I don't hurt his feelings.



"Wow," Dru says and I glance over to her. She waggles her eyebrows at me delightedly. My eyes dart to Spike, who is staring at Riley with a pinched look on his face. I can't tell what he's thinking.





----------------------------------------------------------





They're probably in there right now having sex. They left the fire not long after 'the kiss', Spike having not spoken a word since it. It only took ten minutes of not entertaining his advances for Riley to retreat inside alone.



The fire's almost totally died down but I can't bring myself to go inside the house. It's one thing to know they have sex. It's another to know they're having sex when I'm in the same building. I just can't take that. Not now; not after my birthday. So I sit out here. It's getting cold but I don't really care. Anything that makes me feel is good.



I hear a whoosh and my head turns in the direction of the house. Spike is standing at the patio doors dressed in his jeans and white t-shirt from earlier, barefoot and staring out at me. I can't look away as he steps outside and shuts the door behind him, the whoosh sound of the door carrying across to the fire. I can't take my eyes off him as he makes his way over to where I'm still sitting.



I finally drag my gaze away as he sits down next to me and we both stare into the fire for long minutes. When he finally speaks, it's not what I expected him to say.



"Did you have to do that?"



"Do what?" I ask, confused.



"Kiss him," he says sadly, turning to look at me. The sadness in his eyes astounds me.



"What?"



"You heard me."



"I -- I don't understand."



"You don't understand. No, I guess you wouldn't," he muses quietly.



My head is whirling as I look at him. His head is down and he's pulling at the threads on the bottom of his worn jeans. He looks so lost and I feel the urge to reach out and run my hands through his hair. But I can't focus. All I can think is that he doesn't want me to kiss Riley. Why doesn't he want me to kiss Riley?



"Why did you kiss me?" I blurt out.



He raises his head to look at me and blinks in silent contemplation.



"Why did you kiss me in the cab?" I ask again. I don't know why I can ask him this now but not that morning. I don't know what's changed but I'm too caught up in the anxiety of waiting for his answer to worry about possible embarrassment.



"Why do you think I kissed you?" he asks quietly.



"Because you were drunk and felt bad for me," I answer bluntly, which surprises the hell out of me.



I can't bring myself to look at him but his hand reaches out and he tilts my chin until I'm held in the beam of his eyes, the dying fire flashing across his face and I gasp at the look on his face.



"I wasn't that drunk, Buffy," he says steadily. I'm caught in suspended animation, unsure what's happening. "Do you really not know?" he asks softly, gazing at my mouth. "How could you not know?"



"Know what?" I ask breathlessly.



A muscle twitches in his clenched jaw as he stares at my mouth and I can feel myself leaning into him. But then he shakes his head and refocuses on my eyes, suddenly grabbing my arms to pull me closer to him.



"Why didn't you tell me you felt that way about me in college?" he asks, his eyes blazing fiercely. I open my mouth like a fish. I'm in a daze. I can't believe he's touching me .



"Why didn't you tell me back then, Buffy? Do you have any idea how it felt when you said that that night? That you'd liked me back, that I could have had you all those years ago?"



His grip on me tightens and I'm paralysed, unable to speak or think. All I see are his eyes, all I hear are his words.



"I felt like you'd punched me in the stomach. I could barely breathe, I --" he breaks off, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that would frighten me if I didn't love him so much. The wall that has been behind his eyes when he looks at me is tumbling down as I'm fixed in his gaze.



I make a broken croaking sound but I really don't know what it is I'm trying to say. I can't speak. I can barely think. Oh god, is this really happening? Am I dreaming? I haven't hit my head on a beach log and knocked myself out, have I?



"You want to know why I kissed you that night, Buffy?"



YES! I scream in my head.



"I kissed you in the cab because I couldn't live another second of my life not kissing you. I kissed you because you're all I've bloody thought about since the second I met you. I kissed you -- I made love to you that night because I finally thought that maybe you felt the same way about me. Please tell me, Buffy, tell me if you felt that too, please!"



I can't think, I can't breathe. Oh god, I can't breathe. I'm panting and my voice is hoarse when I try to speak but I don't really care.



"I -- I don't understand," I manage, my eyes darting between his. "You didn't want me back then," I state in confusion.



His lip curls. "The hell I didn't!"



"But you didn't!" I cry, finding my voice at last. "That night, I went to the bar and you were there with Dru - you didn't want me!"



"I did, Buffy, I always have," he says and the anguish all over his face is almost unbearable. I can't believe this is happening, I can't believe this.



"You met Dru that night and I thought -- you chose her."



"No! No, I didn't! You set me up with her! You said we were just friends, Buffy! You told me I should go out with Dru! You basically cut me off at the knees right there on the street!"



"I thought .. I thought you wanted her," I confess, tears starting to spill from my eyes. "I didn't think you wanted me the way I wanted you. I .. I just wanted you to be happy." He looks at me like I mean everything to him, like he loves me the way I love him, and I can't grasp it. I just can't believe this is happening.



"You wanted me to be happy. Well that's just great, Buffy," he says, releasing me. I put my hand out to steady myself on the sand. He looks away from me, his jaw clenched tight.



"What was I supposed to think, Spike?" I ask quietly. "I didn't know. You didn't say you were asking me 'out' out and I was so unsure .. and when I got there you'd met up with Dru and you were flirting with her and she was all over you. I thought you just thought of me as your friend."



"You were the one who invited her that night. You were the one who always said we were just friends."



"Because I didn't want to embarrass myself!" I explode and he looks at me again, some of his anger deflating as he sees how distressed I am.



"You were this gorgeous god on campus! Everyone wanted you and I was supposed to think you wanted to be with me?" I cry, my voice wavering with the emotion I've hidden for so long. "Then when you said we should go out, I hoped you meant as more than friends, I was so desperate for it. I asked Dru to be there that night as a buffer, in case I was wrong. I was so afraid .. but I was hoping it would be the night you'd finally see me and then you were all over Dru by the time I arrived and I just thought--"



"She was all over me! I was waiting for you! I thought I'd finally get to tell you how I felt about you and then you set me up with your best friend!"



"I didn't set you up with her!"



"Well, that's not what Dru said, Buffy."



My stomach drops.



"Dru said I was setting you up with her?" I ask breathlessly, not believing this could be true. She wouldn't have done that. I've always believed she just didn't know how deep my feelings were for Spike when she went after him. It's never occurred to me she could have lied to get him.



"Yeah, that's what she said," he says bitterly. He pauses for a moment and his voice gets impossibly soft as he continues. "I thought you just saw me as your friend, Buffy. I never would've -- I thought you'd never see me as more. And when you said I should go out with Dru, I just thought it didn't matter, because you didn't see me like that and Dru did and I was lonely and sad and tired of wanting you and not getting you. So I went out with her. I know that sounds pathetic and I know it makes me just as much of a user as Dru but it's the truth, Buffy."



Spike thinks Dru's a user? What the hell is happening? Oh god, my head is going to explode. I can't wrap my thoughts around this.



"I know this whole thing is a gigantic mess but I can't do this any more. I have to tell you the truth now, before it's too late."



"Stop," I whisper.



"You don't understand, I--"



"Please stop!"



"Buffy, listen to me--"



"No! It's already too late, don't you understand that? You're getting married to my best friend in less than two months, Spike!"



"I'm not married yet, Buffy," he says pointedly.



"So what? I should jump on before the clock ticks down, is that it? Get the what if out of your system before you marry her?" I ask snidely, overcome with anger that he's doing this to me now when it all seems too damn late.



"You're not a what if to me! You're everything to me, Buffy."



"Oh really? Because I didn't see you fighting to keep me that morning after you fucked me!"



"Don't you dare say that to me, Buffy, don't you dare. You have no fucking idea how much the thought of you has tormented me over the years and then when I finally had you, you told me I was a drunken mistake!"



"I thought that was what you wanted!" I cry. "You -- god, I've tormented you? I'm not the one getting married! Do you have any idea how much it hurts to sit and listen to her talk about how perfect you two are together? How much you love her, how you tell her she's the most perfect woman you've ever met? Don't you understand that sitting back and watching you plan a life with someone else kills me? To be on the sidelines and see someone else living the life I want?"



My tears are running rampant down my face and pooling in the curve of my throat as I cry at him. He's looking at me with awe and misery in equal measures.



"I can't do this, I just can't!" I gasp, attempting to rise from the sand and run away, just get away from this pain that's overwhelming me.



"No! No, Buffy, please," he panics, reaching out to grab me again, hold me down next to him. "Please, don't go. Please .. please, listen to me," he pleads as I try to control my breathing. My body is shaking, my heart is hammering and I feel like I'm going to explode. I can hear him breathing heavily. I can feel his pants for breath hitting my face. His warm hands are still on my arms, flexing, as he gathers his thoughts, but not letting go.



"I feel like I've fallen into a nightmare sometimes," he whispers roughly to me. "I have moments of clarity where I can't believe I'm marrying someone I don't .." he breaks off, shaking and dropping his head. "I don't even know how this all happened. One minute I'm staring at your back as you walk away from me down that street and the next I'm engaged to your best friend and I can't .." he huffs a breath. "When Dru said she wanted to marry me, all I could think was that if I married her I'd always have you in my life. All I could think was to keep you any way I could get you. I thought if I stayed with Dru -- god, I know it doesn't make any sense, I know it doesn't," his hand is shaking and he's practically vibrating with anxiety in front of me. "I just thought that since I couldn't have you .. it didn't really matter who I was with."



When he finishes, looking at me as if I mean everything to him, an uncontrollable sob escapes from my throat and with a whisper of my name his arms are around me, holding me to him. I'm sobbing in earnest, folded into his strong arms and he squeezes me so tightly like he's afraid I'll disappear if he's not touching as much of me as he can. My body is shaking with sobs, unable to believe that he'd really wanted me all along, that we could have had each other but were both too stupid to do anything about it. I think of all those times Dru told me about Spike and I almost wretch when I think I could have been with him. We could have been happy all these years if only one of us had been brave enough. And now we're cheaters. We're cheaters who are dancing around the idea of him dumping his fiance - my best friend - and what? Starting to date? How would that ever happen? How would Dru ever allow that to happen?



"What're we going to do, Spike?" my voice small and lost sounding, buried in his shoulder. "It's too late, we messed it all up."



"It's not too late, Buffy," he says fiercely, leaning back to catch my eyes, pleading with me. "It's not too late. Not if .."



He trails off. I can feel my pulse racing, my heart in my mouth. He takes a deep breath.



"That night, your birthday .. were you there with me?"



His voice is almost a whisper as he asks me this and my heart swells with the love I've had for him all these years. My voice breaks in my throat as I answer him.



"Yes."



"Buffy .."



"I've always been with you," I whisper brokenly.



His eyes turn black. They're boring into mine with an intensity I almost can't believe. And then he's kissing me. I'm pressing myself into him with the aid of his hands, my own hands running through his hair, unwilling to let him pull away from me. The fireworks are back. I can't believe I was kissing someone else an hour or so before. I feel like I could never have kissed anyone else in my life because this hasn't happened with anyone else, this feeling. No-one else. I never thought I'd have this after that night but he's here with me again. And I just don't know if I'm going to be able to give it up this time.





TBC

I'm back home. I'm back in my apartment and I don't know what to do. Spike said not to worry. He told me to act normal and he'd take care of it. But how am I supposed to not worry? How am I supposed to act normal? What the hell is normal anyway? Normal for me is sitting by Dru's side while she happily lives her life. Normal is pretending I'm not desperately in love with my best friend's significant other. Normal is not making and receiving declarations of undying something, while my best friend is asleep not fifty yards away dreaming of a wedding, honeymoon and life with Spike that might not happen now. I have no idea what to do. I'm amazed I was even able to face her this morning.



When I woke up today, it was with the usual feeling of dread that I had to face them, see them together and pretend. And then I remembered. He'd told me he felt the same as me. We'd kissed. For hours it felt like. It took a long time for my brain to kick into gear. I just kept thinking of all he'd said, all he'd revealed to me. The regret seeped in then. All those years we'd both been miserable because we were too stupid, too cowardly to put ourselves out there. And we'd dragged Dru into it too. She was planning a wedding with someone who didn't want her. Oh god, I felt such a surge of anger at myself and Spike when I thought of all we'd done to ourselves and Dru because we were too afraid. And now we were going to, what? Rip her life away from her? Take away her best friend and fiance in one fell swoop? How could that be the right thing to do? I'd asked him that on the beach.



"I can't marry her, Buffy," he'd said. "I can't. Not now."



"But you could before this? Why could you happily plan a wedding with her then but not now? You must feel something for her, Spike."



"I wasn't planning anything, Buffy, I was coasting just like I always have. Then that night, your birthday, it was like I was finally awake and I .. all I know is I can't do this now. No matter what happens with this .. us," and he'd sent me a fragile look as he paused, "all I know is I can't marry her when I don't .."



"You don't love her?" I'd asked in a small voice, barely able to believe.



"No. I don't. You know I don't."



"I don't think I know anything any more", I'd replied softly.



And I really don't. I don't know. Everything feels like a dream right now. I'm sitting on the couch in my living room, staring at the wall. I woke up this morning and came downstairs to find Spike outside pacing on the decking. When he saw me from the corner of his eye, he flashed me such a disarmingly sad but brilliant smile that I couldn't help it; I smiled back. God, in the midst of this misery we were planning for my best friend, I was smiling and he was smiling back and it felt good. It felt so good to be free to show him how he affected me. I met him at the patio doors and he just had time to whisper to me that he'd take care of it, not to worry, to act normal. And then Dru was there. She was hugging me from behind and leaning over to kiss Spike's cheek. I felt like I was the dirtiest human being on the face of the planet. I didn't wait long to get my excuses in. I told her I had to go back to the city for work and she stamped her foot, as I knew she would, and moaned that she barely gets to see me any more. I felt dirtier and dirtier every second I sat there next to her across from Spike, who wouldn't look at me or her. I made my exit very quickly after that.



And now I'm here. In my apartment. With no idea what to do. I don't even know what he's going to say to her. Is he going to call off the wedding? Really? Can I believe he's actually going to do it? And then what? We'll start dating? How can I do that? Dru would never understand. And why should she? I'm basically stealing her future. I've stolen her fiance. Oh god, I'm the worst person in the world. I can't believe this is happening. How can I be so sad and so happy about the same thing? On one hand, I'm drowning in guilt that I could do this to her. I'm sitting here knowing what she's going through, what she's losing maybe right at this very minute and all I can think about is that Spike wants me. That's the other hand. He wants me. He always has. Every time I've felt miserable because I didn't have him, he's felt the same way.



My phone goes and I freeze. Oh god, what if that's her? What do I say? Oh god, what if it's him? What do I do? Can I be happy when she's so sad? Can I take this from her?



I reach out with a shaking hand and pick up the reciever and say hello and what I hear has me exhaling out a massive breath of relief.



"Hell-oooooo! What's up Buffster?"



"Oh god, Xander!" I cry, and I immediately have his attention.



"Buffy? What's wrong? Are you okay? Talk to me!"



Talk to him. And so I am. I'm talking to him. I'm telling him everything. I'm rambling and panting for breath and crying all at once. I'm telling him everything that's happened since my birthday, since I found out both the best thing in the world and the worst thing in the world. I'm tripping over myself to get it all out of me. It feels like I'm exorcising a demon from my body, just to get it all out. He's so good, he gets me so well. He's listening without interrupting and encouraging me when I'm stumbling for breath. When I finally finish, he's silent for about a minute. I'm thinking of all he must think of me, how his opinion of me must have plummeted, when he finally speaks.



"Good for you, Buffy. Good for both of you."



"What?" To say I'm stunned is an understatement.



"You heard me, Buffy. This is the first time in a long while I've heard real emotion in your voice. You have no idea how often I've wanted to beat you over the head with something heavy just to get a reaction out of you. You've been living in purgatory, Buffy, for a long time and now you're finally out, aren't you?" I can hear the smile in his voice.



"I don't understand. Did you hear me? I'm stealing her--"



"You're not stealing anything, Buffy. You can't steal a person. It sounds like he was never hers in the first place. And I'm betting your little misunderstanding all those years ago had something to do with Dru, right?"



I think of Dru telling Spike I was setting him up with her.



"But it's wrong, Xander!"



"How is it wrong? Do you love him, Buff?"



"Yes! God, yes. You know I do."



"And he loves you?"



"I don't know. He hasn't --"



"Yeah, but I'm betting he does. Sounds like he was hit by the Buffinator," he says fondly and I laugh through my tears. "Take Dru out of this for a moment, Buffy."



"How can I --"



"Just do me this one favour, okay? Just pretend. Just pretend that Spike had told you all this and you didn't have to worry about Dru. How would you feel right now?"



"Euphoric," I answer immediately, softly.



"Now, tell me why instead of being euphoric, you're crying."



"Because Dru is in this, Xander. She thinks she's getting married to Spike in a few weeks and I'm sitting here in my apartment with the taste of his lips still on my mouth. I'm having an affair with my best friend's fiance. How is that not wrong?"



"You're not having an affair, Buffy. It sounds like the engagement is going to be over whether you're involved or not. What you're doing is taking control of your life, Buffy. You're not chasing him around trying to get him to sleep with you, are you?"



"No."



"No, you're not. And he's not asking you to sleep with him behind Dru's back is he?"



"No, but --"



"But nothing. What you're both doing is trying to extract yourselves from a messy situation."



"That was caused by us in the first place!"



"Yeah, and I'm betting Dru has more than her fair share of dirt on her hands in this one."



"How can you say that?"



"Because I know her, Buff, that's how. I know you both very well and I know how you both work. You give up your happiness to please her and she gets what she wants. That's the way it's always been. I just don't know why you can't see it."



"You just don't get her, Xander. She needs me."



"Yeah, she does, doesn't she? She needs you. She needs you around so she can put you down and control you and make sure you're always around to make her feel better. She needs you to be there so she won't be alone, because no-one else will put up with her shit. And you let her! You always have! Only this time you're not going to do that Buffy, you hear me?"



"Xander --"



"No, listen to me! You really love this guy, I know you do. He's your future, Buffy. And you are not going to let her take your future again. You hear me?"



"He's not mine to take, Xander!"



"But see that's the thing, Buffy; he is. And you're his, apparently. Dru is the one that stuck herself between you, I'm betting, and now it's all tumbling down around her ears. Well boo-hoo."



"God, that's so cold, Xander. How can you say that?"



"Because it's the truth. How about this: do you think if the situation was reversed Dru wouldn't put her happiness before yours?"



I flash to Angel and Dru in the school corridor, her hand on his arm, his other arm resting on her back, my teenage heart breaking. I flash to the night in the bar with Dru leaning against Spike when she knew I liked him, she knew it. Her mouthing so hot behind his back as I felt my dreams being crushed. Her off-hand 'I'll call you' as I made my escape. The twinkle in her eye when she flashed her engagement ring at me.



"See? You know it, Buff. Dru's not stupid. She's known you all her life. You didn't need to tell her you were in love with Spike back then. She already knew it, Buffy," he says sadly, imparting news that's shockingly real and right that I've been blind to for so long.



"Why are you saying all this?" I whisper, hurt beyond all recognition, though I'm not sure why. Is it that I've let this happen to me, blindly? Is it that everyone knew it but me? Or is the ache in my chest just mourning the loss of my old vision of Dru; the Dru who picked me as her best friend, who picked me over the popular girls, who picked me because I thought she loved me, not because I was weak.



He sighs tiredly before he answers me.



"Because I love you, Buff, and I want you to be happy. Dru doesn't. Don't you see that? I know you guys go way back, even further back than us, and I get that that matters to you but Buffy, you haven't been friends for a long long time. She's like your jailer. She rules your life. She always has. Only it's not hers to rule. It's yours. This is your chance to be happy, Buffy. For god's sake, don't throw it away. Be selfish. For once in your life, do something for yourself. I promise you if you don't you'll regret it, Buff."



And then he hangs up and I'm left staring at my wall, my brain spinning like a whirling dervish and all I can see are fragments of events in my past where I've put Dru before me and I can't think, I can't think clearly. I'm still clutching the receiver five minutes later when there's a knock on my door and I'm suddenly so sure it's Spike. I feel like I've just been hit by lightning. Could I have it? Could I have my happiness? Could I take my happily-ever-after at the expense of Dru? All I can think is that I need to see him. I need to see him in the flesh right now. I drop the reciever on the floor in my mad dash to get to him, feel him, make sure it's all real.



I open the door and he's there, smiling hesitantly at me. My heart takes over control of my body, banishing that voice in my head that says what I want is wrong. I blurt out the first thing I can think of, just as he opens his mouth to speak and we end up with a little sitcom moment of overlapped speech that would make me laugh if I wasn't in the midst of a nervous-breakdown.



"I'm in love with you."



"I called off the wedding."





----------------------------------------------------------





"You did?"



"Huh?" he says, dazed.



"I can't believe .." I trail off with awe.



"Buffy --"



"You called it off? Really?" And he finally wakes from his daze.



"Yes! Of course I did, I told you I couldn't --" he breaks off with a heavy breath, his eyes flooded with longing. "Say it again, Buffy, please tell me again," he pleads.



"I .. oh god, Spike, I've been in love with you for years," I sob, my body shaking. He immediately pushes me inside my apartment, shutting the door and holding me by my shoulders. He looks into my eyes desperately.



"Are you sure?"



"God, yes!" I cry. He's looking at me with a heavenly smile and I've never seen his face so open before. He's never looked more beautiful to me. There's nothing else in the world right now; not Xander, not Dru, nothing but this. His eyes and his smile and his arms around me and my hands on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat thundering beneath my hands.



"I am so bloody in love with you, Summers," he says quietly with conviction. He clutches at the back of my head, pulling me to him and fastening his mouth onto mine. I kiss him back so desperately I think I must be hurting him but he just holds me against him harder. His tongue is plunging into my mouth and I'm whimpering at how perfect this is. I can't believe he's here, it's happening! God, finally! He tears his mouth from mine, his lips raining kisses on my face, his hands holding me so close to him it's a wonder we can both breathe.



"I can't believe this is happening," I whisper when he's dragged his mouth down my throat to dance along my skin and suck on my pulse again. He stops his ministrations at the disbelief in my voice. He pulls back and his face fills my vision again. He looks almost frightening in his intensity as he speaks to me.



"You better believe it, Buffy, because I'm through with all this mis-communication crap. I am in love with you. I have been in love with you since you starfished in front of me all those years ago," he says with a half-laugh, though his eyes are burning. "I can't believe I was such a goddamn wimp to let you walk away from me that night at the bar or the day after we made love or the million times I sat with you in that library on campus, watching you stuff sandwiches in your mouth and just about bursting from not kissing you."



"You have no idea how much I wanted you to," I say breathlessly through my tears. But for once, they're happy tears.



"Buffy .."



His eyes darken. He's looking at me like I'm covered in his favorite flavour of ice-cream and it's all I can take. I pounce on him, my legs wrapping around his waist. He stumbles back before turning on the spot. He pushes me against the wall, his hands groping at every part of me he can reach. I hear a rip but I don't care what it is. All I care about is that his face is pressed between my bare breasts and he's kissing and licking and sucking my bare flesh. My hand reaches down to his zipper to get him inside me, I need him inside me, and I think I say it out loud because he says "yes, inside you". I claw at his back and then he's free of his jeans. He pushes into me in a single movement and I literally scream my relief at the feel of him as he thrusts into me. When I open my eyes I can see that he's crying as he looks at me, saying my name over and over. I feel like I'm on fire, feverish with wanting him even when I've got him. I thrust down on him over and over, desperate to recapture him inside me every time he leaves. He pushes me more fully against the wall with a much harder thrust and I scream as I climax. I'm coming as I look straight into his eyes and then he's coming too - we're falling, sliding down the wall but I don't care and he doesn't either because we're both laughing and crying and saying I love you and it's the most beautiful moment of my entire life.





----------------------------------------------------------





"The day you told me about your mum. I knew it then."



"You did?"



"Yeah. You were just so .. raw."



"Like a slab of meat?"



He chuckles and pulls me closer. We're laying in my bed on our sides, face to face and wrapped around each other's naked bodies. Our clothes are lying forgotten in a haphazard trail into the bedroom. We've been lying here for an hour, two hours, a week, two months, I have no idea. All I know is that it's perfect and it feels like we've been together forever.



"Well I can beat that," I say with a blush.



"Oh, you can?"



"Uh-huh. The night you stayed with me in the library so you could help me with my paper and we had to hide in the office to avoid the night-watchman guy."



"That's when you knew?"



"Uh-huh. I knew. I just never thought .."



"What?" he prompts, with a sad smile on his face.



"I just never thought .. someone like you would want someone like me," I tell him quietly. As soon as I say it I want to take it back because he just looks so sad. "I'm sorry, I don't mean you're shallow or --"



"One of these days you're going to tell me why you think so little of yourself, Buffy," he says softly.



"I don't .. I don't think so little of myself," I argue, confused.



"Then why don't you see what I see when I look at you?"



"What do you see?" I ask, my voice a barely-there whisper.



He smiles and runs his hand through my hair, down the side of my face and around to the front where he stokes my bottom lip with his thumb. I'm a puddle of goo when he finally answers.



"I see you, Buffy Summers. The most beautiful woman I've ever known in my entire life," he says with a soft smile. He strokes my face as he talks and I'm falling into his eyes. "Your big green eyes. Your perfect mouth. Your shampoo-commercial hair. Your sexy body. The way you talk. The way your nose crunches up when you're writing. Your wit. Your spark --"



"Spike --" I start, astounded but he cuts me off again.



"You're perfect for me, Buffy," he says with conviction. "I have never wanted anyone or anything in my life the way I want you. All of you. I want you for good. I don't want to ever be without this again, do you understand?"



"Y-yes," I stutter breathlessly.



"I know we've dug a hole for ourselves that we're not talking about right now, but I want you to know that no matter what happens I love you. You're it for me, Buffy. I don't ever want you to think I don't want you ever again. Promise me you won't forget that."



"O-okay, I promise," I say. The way he's looking at me - it makes me feel like I'm floating in air. His eyes are just eating me up and I'm starting to think that maybe there's light at the end of the tunnel; maybe it's possible he can love me as much as I love him. The biggest smile breaks out on my face as the thought occurs to me that this might be how I wake up every day for the rest of my life. If I'm brave enough. If I put this first. If I prize my love and my happiness over anyone else's.



"I love you," I say on a breath of laughter. "God, Spike, I love you so much!" I throw myself on top of him, pressing happy kisses on his face and pushing him onto his back. He laughs and says he loves me too and I feel like I could take on the whole world ..



And then my answering machine kicks in and I hear the voice of the one person in the world that can take it all away from me. We freeze as we focus on the voice.



"Buffy, I'm downstairs, answer your goddamn buzzer!"

"It'll be okay, luv, it'll be okay."



"Oh god, oh .. here, put your shirt on! Where's my .. what .. you ripped my dress?"



"I was in a bit of a hurry!"



"Well I'm in a bit of a hurry now, Spike! What the hell am I going to wear? She'll be at the door any second! Shit, shit, shit!"



"Such language."



"Not the time!"



"Okay, run into the bedroom and get something to wear because I'm pretty sure if you answer the door in your underwear she might think there's something funny going on."



My hands are shaking. My whole body might be shaking actually and I can't believe he's making jokes. I can feel sweat trickling down between my shoulder blades as I'm dragging the first dress I see out of my closet and over my head and then I'm pelting back into the living room to see Spike, now fully dressed and looking at me with silent support and love .. then I hear her voice on the other side of the door and I'm shaking and sweating and I don't think I can stop.



"Buffy! Open up!"



Oh shit, shit shit shit.



"Hey, look at me," he whispers as I'm on my way to the door. I turn back to him and he perches himself on the arm of the couch facing the door and fixes me in his gaze.



"I love you. Nothing will change that," he says steadily. I try to smile but I can't stop shaking.



"Jesus, Buffy! What are you doing in there!"



"I'm coming!" I yell in a shaky voice. I turn from Spike, drag in a deep breath and grasp the door handle.



Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.



"Finally! Do you have any idea what has happened to me --" she stops, halfway in the apartment looking at Spike perched on my couch in the middle of the floor. Dru is still holding the apartment door open and all I can think, inexplicably, is that I hope she shuts it before the real yelling starts. Wow, my priorities are fucked.



"What are you doing here? What is he doing here?" she demands, her face darting between both of us.



"We need to speak to you, Dru," Spike says quietly. I don't think what he said registers with her but I can't bring myself to raise my gaze from the floor. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.



"Don't fucking speak to me, you asshole! Buffy!" she says, turning to me but I'm still staring at the floor, my head down.



"Do you know what he's done? He dumped me on my ass this morning! He cancelled the wedding! He's been fucking someone else, did he tell you that? What the fuck is he doing here?"



"Dru --"



"I told you not to speak to me! You made your bed with your little whore, so if you've come round here to beg Buffy's help in getting me back, you're shit out of luck."



I hear him bark a laugh without humour. I'm still not moving. I'm breathing in panicked, small gasps.



"I don't want you back, Dru," he says sadly.



"Oh that's right, you've already got yourself a little slut to keep you company, don't you, honey?"



"Watch your mouth, Dru. And stop pretending you've been nothing but faithful to me, sweetness," he says, his voice full of a tired sort of disdain and that's what brings me screeching back into this moment. She was cheating on him? Dru was cheating on Spike? Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't he tell me? All that time of thinking they were the perfect couple. My head shoots up to look at him.



He's standing in front of the couch now a few feet away from Dru who's finally moved far enough inside the apartment for me to shut the door. I reach over to close the door on autopilot and lean back against it. Dru's in front of me gesturing widely and seems to have forgotten I'm even here but I can see Spike. His gaze is flickering between me and her as she raves and calls him names and apparently seeks to continue the fight they'd been having this morning. When he looks at me, I know he's hoping I'll stay with him in this and I know exactly what I have to do. I look him straight in the eyes and mouth I love you. His eyes warm and he stares right at me, right through me.



It takes me a minute to realise that Dru has stopped shouting. She's moved back so she can see us both and there's absolute silence as the three of us regard each other.



"What the fuck is going on?" she whispers. The part of my heart that still belongs to her, the part that's still 10-years-old, the part that doesn't remember the misery and jealousy and back-stabbing that's dominated our relationship for the majority of our lives, the part of me that hasn't been suffocated by her for so long; that part of my heart breaks that I'm doing this to her, that Spike's doing this to her, that any of this had to happen in the first place.



"What the fuck is going on, Buffy!" she yells, startling me out of my thoughts. I turn my sad, terrified eyes to hers and she knows. I know she knows. Her eyes widen in hurt and understanding. I can't look away as they fill with tears that I know she'll be too proud to spill. She'll blink them away before they have a chance to fall. I know her so well.



Her voice drops to a whisper that freezes my insides and I feel like this might be the end of the world.



"You fucking bitch," she hisses. I flinch.



"I'm s--"



"If you apologise to me, I will beat the shit out of you."



"Dru, we didn't --" Spike tries.



"Don't fucking speak to me, you bastard! You .. I can't .."



She's panting for breath and all my years of training as her best friend are telling me to help her, hurt whoever hurt her. I can't believe it's me doing this to her.



"You were fucking my best friend? My Buffy?" she screams at him, before turning to me. "You were fucking him behind my back?"



"It wasn't like that, Dru --" I start, finally finding my voice.



"Oh, it wasn't like that! Was it not, Buff? What was it like then, huh?"



My mouth is open but no sound is coming out.



"Yeah, that's what I thought," she says, her mouth twisting in disgust as she looks at me.



"I'm sor--" I try again but her thunderous glare cuts me off and I'm stumbling to explain myself and my actions.



"It was just the one night, Dru, just once and I --"



"So why's he here now then?" she says, almost vibrating with manic energy.



"H-he .. w-we .."



"Just say it, Buffy!"



"I .. I love him," my voice cracking as I try to get it out. Her eyes bore into mine as I can see the fury bubbling behind her eyes. And then she's yelling at me.



I'm begging her with my eyes to understand but of course she doesn't and why the hell should she anyway? I'm the shithead here, I'm the shithead. Oh fuck, I'm really doing this to her, this is really happening.



".. always so fucking jealous of me, you cow! Do you think I haven't seen the way you've always looked at him, huh? I'm not stupid, Buffy! You've been chasing after him for years now, following him around like a puppy! You probably pulled your little sad girl act, got him drunk then fucked him, right?"



"No! I wasn't chasing him, Dru, I promise, I didn't --"



"She hasn't chased me, Dru. If anything, I chased her," Spike says plainly. I'm dumbfounded at how he can be so cool about this. How he can be so unafraid. I look at him and see that he actually looks livid. He looks livid as he's staring at Dru. I can feel myself regressing to a 10-year-old right this second, desperately trying to defend myself but Spike's face is getting harder and harder.



"Bullshit, Spike! She's always gone after what I have, always!"



"That's not true, Dru, please!" I can feel tears coursing down my cheeks now. She looks at me like she's won a little, the twinkle is in her eye and I'm just retreating into myself in misery.



"You always had to want what I had, Buffy, always. And then you'd turn your little accusing eyes on me when I got it like I'd done you out of something. Well you're the one that never went after what you wanted, Buffy! You're the one that just let everything pass you by! I didn't! I fought for what I wanted! I fought to get the things I wanted in my life and it's not my fault YOU DIDN'T!"



"ENOUGH!" Spike screams but I can't see him any more. My eyes are blinded by tears. I'm leaning against the door and all I can think is that she's right. I did this. I let it all sail past me. I blamed Dru and Xander blamed Dru but it was me all along. It was me, I did this. Suddenly, Spike's in front of me pushing my hair out of my face to look at me. Dru's yelling again but I can't hear her as I'm crying. Spike's hand trails down my cheek, his thumb rubbing the tears away. Then his face hardens again and he turns away toward Dru. His voice cuts through the fog.



"Why don't you explain about how you insinuated yourself between us in college, Dru, huh? Why don't you tell us all about that?"



"I have no idea what you're talking about."



"Bollocks! You just said you've always known Buffy wanted me. Well, if you're such a great fucking person, why did you throw yourself at me the first chance you got, huh? Why did you lie that night at the bar in LA and say Buffy was setting me up with you? Why did you do that when you knew that she wanted me?"



"I never threw myself at you, you ego-manic!" she laughs bitterly but I can see her face crack a little like she might be afraid. I feel numb. I feel like I'm not really here, this isn't really happening and I think that's what gives me the strength to speak.



"You did, Dru," I say in a small pleading voice. Her head snaps to me, while Spike stands by my side. "You knew how I felt about him. Back then I thought you didn't but you did. You knew I loved him, I know you did .. and you still went after him. Why did you do that? Don't you know how it felt? Don't you understand --"



"Oh this is unbelievable!" she cries, throwing her hands up in the air, addressing no-one in particular. "I come here today to tell my best friend, the person I'm supposed to be able to trust and rely on, that my fiance has dumped me for another woman and not only is she the other woman, she then tries to make out that I'm the bad guy?"



"You're not the bad guy, Dru. There are no bad guys," Spike says tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose.



"Bullshit there aren't!" she cries in disbelief.



"We can't help how we feel about each other, Dru," he says with a note of steel in his voice.



Her eyes narrow and she drops her arms, her breath coming out in pants I can see she's trying to control.



"Oh?" she asks, her voice calming, turning chilly, her eyes flickering between us. "And how is that?"



"We're in love, Dru," I reply, my voice sad but surprisingly firm.



"No," she says, her voice emphatic and hard but her eyes are darting between us with something like panic dancing in them.



"We are. We're in love. And we always have been," Spike cuts in, looking her straight in the eyes. "And you knew it, Dru. You knew it back then and you knew it when you followed me to New York, dragging Buffy behind you and you knew it that night you begged me to marry you --"



"Shut your mouth!"



"-- and you've known it every second we were together! So why were you even with me in the first place, huh? You knew how I felt about her! I could see it in your eyes. You knew I loved her --"



"Shut up, Spike!"



"-- so why the hell were you with me? Why go after me? Why settle for me when you knew I was settling for you? Why ask me to marry you?"



"Well, why did you accept if you were so desperately in love with my best friend?"



"Because I was empty, that's why!" he shouts back. "Something you'd made sure of! Playing on our weaknesses for years --"



"That's not true!"



"So why did you want to marry me when you knew how I felt?"



"Because I loved you!" she cries, looking desperate. Spike looks furious and full of purpose. I can't stop shaking and my eyes are raw from crying. My heart is jack-hammering in my chest and all I can see is Dru's eyes darting from his face to mine, looking panicked and anxious like she's a cornered animal. My mind is going a mile a minute.



"No, you didn't, Dru. No, you didn't," he barks with a bitter laugh. "You've slept with Michael in your office more than you've slept with me for the past four years and Buffy's your only real emotional tie. We've never even exchanged I love you's. Not once. You don't ask anything from me and you don't need anything from me. You knew I knew you were cheating and you knew I didn't give a fuck. We were nothing to each other, so why were you doing it? Keeping me and Buffy apart? You knew we loved each other! God, you're the only one that knew both sides of it because we sure as hell didn't. You knew we were weak with misery thinking we'd never get each other and you deliberately stayed between us, didn't you?"



"NO!"



"No? So what's your explanation, Dru? Why not tell us? You could have helped us but instead you went for the kill! Why not just let us have each other if you didn't really want me --"



"Because I wanted to keep her!" she screams and the world stops. Spike falls silent. Dru's shaking violently as she looks at me with wide, shocked, staring eyes and I'm in a daze from everything he's said and everything I think I might finally be figuring out. Dru sways on her feet as she looks at me and as our eyes lock together, I can actually see her break. And then she bursts into sobs, something I have never seen her do. And before I know what's happening, I'm slowly walking towards her. I grab at her forearms and she clutches at mine. She slides to the floor dragging me with her. She's crying and I never thought she would. She starts rambling in broken sentences, disjointed thoughts flying from her mouth, broken only by her sobs and shuddering breaths and everything she says hits me like a sledgehammer.



"I wanted to keep you! I knew you'd leave me if you got him, I knew you'd be happy and if you were happy you wouldn't need me and I needed you, Buffy, I've always needed you! I knew when you talked about him that he filled your spaces and I couldn't stand it because you fill my spaces, you're the only one who can! I needed you to always fill my spaces but I didn't fill yours, I just made more for you. I didn't mean to, Buffy, but I did and I couldn't stand it! I couldn't let you have him because I'd lose you forever, so I had to take him. Oh god, I had to take him before you could get him, before he could get you, I had to keep you with me forever because I couldn't stand the thought that you'd be with him and not me, oh god .."



I get it now. I really get it. Xander was right all along. I've been living a half-life for so long that I didn't even know what real was. And it was because Dru was making spaces in my life. And all the while, she filled her spaces with me and what I needed, what I wanted .. to keep me from it. To keep me with her. And she'd done it to Spike too. And we'd both let her. I'd let her. I'd let her because I was afraid, because I was so afraid I'd always be that mousy little girl lying on her bed crying her eyes out; the girl who was only popular because of Dru, the girl who only had a life because of Dru. I'd let myself believe - I'd let Dru convince me - that the only way to keep it from happening was to cling to her and let her cling to me, to let her push and pull me however she wanted.



I feel a dreadful weariness settle in my heart as I listen to her ramble and cry and hold on to me. Suddenly I can't stand her grip on me. I try to pull away but she just holds on tighter. Then Spike is behind me helping me stand and prying Dru's hands from my arms, where her nails were digging into my skin. When I'm standing before her with Spike at my side, Dru stops talking. She looks at me like she's drowning; like I can save her if I just reach out to hold her. But I can't, I just can't. I just need her to get off me; I just need her to let me go.



"I'm so sorry, Dru," I say softly, calmly and I have no idea where this serenity has come from but it's simply oozing through me, out of me, as I look at her.



"I think you should go," I say.





----------------------------------------------------------





I'm shaking as she leaves in a daze.



I'm shaking when the door closes quietly behind her.



I'm still shaking ten minutes later, sitting on the floor with Spike wrapped around me. Only it doesn't feel like it did when Dru always did it. I don't feel suffocated. I feel like he's letting me breathe which is good because god, I need to breathe, I need to breathe for myself. He's mumbling my name and stroking my hair and I think he must really love me to let me snot all over his shirt like this. That makes me giggle and then I can't stop. Spike just lets me, though he must think I'm insane.



I'm trying to imagine what my mother would say if she was here; if she knew how much time I've wasted of my life being afraid and sad and pathetic and weak. I'd like to think she'd understand; that she would stroke my hair like Spike is doing right now and tell me she loves me and it's okay but that I have to grab it now with both hands, I have to stop hiding, I have to break away from all that doubt and misery and .. Dru. I have to grow up.



I pull back slightly so I can turn my blotchy, puffy, red face to Spike. He's looking at me, his face etched with worry and love. I lift my hand to run my fingers over his cheek and he smiles softly at me.



I take a deep breath and slowly let it out, my eyes closed, my hand now curled around Spike's neck and I gently run my fingers over his nape as I open my eyes.



"Ask me again," I say, my voice quiet and husky. He frowns at me for a second before it dawns on him and then a cautious smile is making its way across his face. He asks me in a smooth, hushed voice the question I should have seen for what it was the first time instead of doubting what I was worth - to him and myself.



"How's about we go out for a drink to celebrate, Summers?"



His eyes are twinkling and he looks lighter, like I feel.



"What are we celebrating?" I ask him on a whoosh of relieved, excited breath, a smile dancing around the edge of my lips.



"Us," he says looking straight into my eyes, way down into me. He leans toward me, his lips softly stealing small, wet kisses from mine. His hands come around me, not crushing me, not pulling me into him, just letting me know he's with me and I'm with him and it feels ..



It feels like living.

It's tough, this whole living to make yourself happy thing. For instance, I don't think I can fully explain just how tough it is to sit here in the little fort we've made of my bedroom for the last four days, staring at the naked glory of my boyfriend (oh god, he's my boyfriend! Mine, mine mine!). My eyes travel all over his perfect body but I'm not touching him. Why am I not touching him, a sane person might ask. And I'd tell that sane person that my utterly insane boyfriend (happy dance, happy dance) suggested that I dust off one of my other dreams and attempt to capture his likeness using the only tools we could scrounge without leaving my apartment; namely, a silver crayola crayon and the back of a rather large Chinese take-out menu. So we're here, on my bed, me in my crappy, scraggy old t-shirt that barely covers the top of my thighs (that Spike told me he infinitely prefers to all the sexy lingerie in the world) and him lying completely naked at the other end of the bed facing me. And we're not touching. The rules are to watch him, study him, draw him to my heart's content but not touch him.



I'm finding it difficult to keep to the rules.



"Stop wiggling," I say, pinching his foot.



"Ow!" He jerks his foot a little, which earns him another glare from me.



"Summers, maybe you spent too much time with me in school and not enough in class, 'cause pinching someone isn't the way to get them to not move."



"I wish I'd spent more time with you. Screw my education," I say regretfully.



"I would have welcomed you with open arms, baby," he says softly, his eyes full of adoration. God, I love his eyes. So blue; so very, very blue. And always changing. Sometimes they look like deep pools. And then other times they look like they're on fire. Usually for me. All of a sudden, a massive blush breaks out over my face at the memory of one of the many times in the past few days that I've dozed off only to awake to the sight of his face between my legs, his mouth devouring me, his blue eyes boring a hole in mine as I scream in orgasm.



This whole fuck-each-other-senseless-then-cry-and-laugh-cause-we're-finally-together thing we've been doing for four days now hasn't helped me with my attacks of shyness or blushing. I'm thinking it'll take a few years or decades to get over them and that can't come soon enough for me. Spike said he hopes my blush attacks never leave 'cause he thinks they're adorable. Which I hate. I can be more than adorable. I think. I can be a vixen. I'm free now, I can do and be whatever the hell I want. He just doesn't know it yet. Hell, I don't really know it yet but I'm gonna give it a good-old Summers try. I'm going to train myself to be brave - to be who I want to be.



"I really wish I had a blue pen to do your eyes. I love your eyes," I say, willing my face to remain its normal colour.



He looks surprised and, dare I say it, slightly embarrassed at the compliment.



"You do?"



"Uh-huh," I answer coyly.



"What else do you like?" The smirk is back.



"What else do ya got?" I snark in a put on New York accent and one of those beautiful smiles of his breaks out, the kind that lights up his whole face, as he laughs at me.



"That too," I say, pointing at said smile. "I love that."



"What, making me laugh at you 'cause of your lameass accent?" he teases.



"Don't make me pinch you again, buster!" He quickly withdraws his foot before he twists round on the bed so he's lying face to face with me. He grabs my half-finished drawing of him out of my hand and throws it over his shoulder.



"Hey! I just spent the last --" I glance at my bedside alarm clock "-- ten minutes doing that, at your request I might add, and you're just throwing it around all willy-nilly."



"Willy-nilly?" he chuckles, pushing me onto my back and hovering over me.



"Yes. You should recognise that word. It is your name, after all. Willie," I tease.



"Bitch."



"Dickhead."



"Oh, I love it when your mouth gets all dirty, baby," he growls, nipping at my jaw with his teeth making me giggle. "Besides," he says, pulling back to face me again, "I don't really care if I see your drawing or not," he sighs, but before I can be offended, he continues, "because it's not about whether I like it or even if it's good. It's just about doing what you want to do, what makes you happy and you said drawing makes you happy so I'll be encouraging it as much as I can. I want you happy. That's what matters to me."



"Oh."



"Oh?" he prompts, smiling. "Oh that's sweet or oh my new boyfriend's a dick?"



"Oh the man I've been secretly, desperately in love with for the whole of my adult life is lying in my bed, telling me exactly what I need to hear, exactly when I need to hear it. That oh."



His eyes are doing that thing where they look like they'd eat me if they had teeth. I love it.



"Say it again," he says. His voice is husky, demanding, needy and his eyes are positively burning.



I've said it a million times over the past few days and if possible, I think he's said it more but it's not getting old. Not at all. The freedom to say it, finally. It feels incredible.



"I love you, Sp--"



"William, call me William."



"I love you, William."



He exhales heavily and drops his head to rest on mine. My hands come up to run through his hair, my nails lightly scraping his scalp.



"God, I love you too, Buffy. I love you so much."



"So I don't get an Elizabeth option?" I tease and his head lifts to regard me seriously before opening his mouth to reply.



"No," he says, laughing abruptly.



"Meanie," I pout.



"Oh, please don't do that, Buffy," he says seriously. I worry for half a second that I've done something to break our bubble of happiness, before he cuts into my thoughts with a kiss that steals what little breath my body had in it.



"Do what?" I ask breathlessly when he pulls back to look at me again.



"Pout with your gorgeous Buffy lips. You have no idea how many times I've watched you do that in the last ten years and wanted to pounce on you. I've had so many dreams about it that it's a little obscene," he says, half laughing, half lusting at me but I can tell he's still so fragile. We both are. All the time we've lost; all the years spent miserable thinking we'd never have each other.



"I used to dream about you, too," I offer quietly.



"You did?"



"Yes," I say in a small voice. "Usually we'd just be together, like this. Sometimes it would be a replay of a real night we'd seen each other, only it would end differently. Instead of going home to her, you'd turn up at my apartment or chase after me when I'm walking away and tell me .."



"What?" he prompts softly, when I trail off.



"That you loved me and you always had," I finish sadly, only I don't know why I'm sad because he's right here. He reacts instantly.



"Look at me."



I do.



"I love you. And I always have, Buffy."



I stare at him for a long moment, thinking of all the hurt we've created for ourselves. God, it was all so pointless.



"I'm so sorry," I say quietly, looking him straight in the eye, my hand resting against his cheek. "I'm so sorry we wasted all that time, Spike."



"Me too, baby," he replies with an adoring, apologetic expression on his face. "I wish I could go back in time and kick my arse."



I laugh, teary again. It's a wonder I haven't cried my eyes right out of the sockets the last few weeks. He joins me, our soft laughter mingling in the small space between our faces.



"When? When would you go back to? When did we let it all slide away?" I ask him.



He regards me silently for a minute before pressing a soft kiss on my lips. "We haven't let it all slide away, baby. We're right here and we're not going anywhere. Are we?"



"No!" I reply immediately, somewhat forcibly but he doesn't seem to mind. I think he kinda likes it actually because his half-smile is back.



"Well, there you go then. But if I could go back and redo it all .." he muses, his gaze drifting downwards, his hand sliding deliberately slowly up my side, pausing to run over my stomach and breasts, caressing my neck, my throat and finally up to cup my chin, his eyes which had followed his hand's progress now coming back to rest in my eyes, ".. I'd go back to when you starfished in front of me and just grab you and do you against the stacks," he finishes with an adorable little smirk. I'm almost mad at him for getting me all breathless and throbby only to make me laugh.



"You're such a guy," I say, mock-slapping his shoulder.



"Hey, at least it would have been a pretty clear signal though, right? None of this 'um, maybe wanna go get a drink' crap that nearly resulted in our individual suicides."



"Yeah, but I think you're forgetting that no matter how gorgeous I thought you were, I still wasn't the kind of girl that would let a perfect stranger 'do me' against the shelves in a library."



"That was policed by the sandwich Nazis," he adds.



"Yeah," I grumble, still to this day pissed off at the 'no food around the books' rule. "Fascists."



His eyes are twinkling as he's looking at me grump.



"You're so bloody adorable," he says leaning down to capture my lips in a kiss. I can feel his erection once more pressing into my thigh and I think of what that younger Buffy would have given to be in the position I'm in right now. I'm struck with the sudden urge to show this man just how mine he is.



Before he can reach my lips with his, I push his head away from me, with the heel of my hand on his forehead, until he's almost staring at the ceiling and he makes this funny little frtph noise.



"Uh, Buffy?"



"Yes, Willie?" I ask him sweetly, holding his head back, bent up to the ceiling.



"What are you doing?"



"Just figuring out where to put it," I reply absently, stroking his neck with my other hand.



"Put what?" he says, sounding thoroughly confused.



"The 'Property of Buffy Summers' stamp," I say, releasing his head which immediately returns to hover over mine and before he knows what's hit him, I'm flipping him over on his back, straddling his waist and reaching down between us to pump him and align him with my body's opening. He's staring at me with wide eyes and a half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, which is hanging slightly open. I push down onto him, taking him into my body for what feels like the millionth time since we secreted ourselves away, swallowing as much of him as I can get inside me until my pelvis is flush with his. At the sound of his moan, I lower the top of my body so my breasts are touching his chest. I stare straight into his eyes with as much confidence as I can muster and lick his bottom lip before taking it in my mouth to nip it with my teeth.



"I can be a lot more than just adorable, Willie," I say, pulling back up to begin riding him and when his surprised but overjoyed, lustful face meets mine I can tell that this man will love me whether I'm playing blushing school-girl, flirty vixen or whichever place in between I eventually find myself. When I do find myself, that is. In other words, he's perfect.





----------------------------------------------------------





I've quit my job. I am unemployed. I was standing there looking at my boss's face as he yelled at me for being AWOL, without so much as a phonecall, for five days and all I could think was, why am I doing this? Why am I putting myself through this? For a job I hate? To afford an apartment that Dru picked, in a city that Dru dragged me to? And the next thing I knew I was laughing my head off and Melvin Wishart (not Wishard, as he told me so condescendingly when I accidentally misspelled his name on an in-house memo two years before) was looking at me like I'd just escaped from the looney bin. But I couldn't help it. All I could think of was that I was finally free - I was free and a grown up and my own goddamn person and I didn't need his job any more than I needed a hole in my head. So I told him. I told him to take his job and stuff it up his ass. Loudly. So loudly that Melanie, his secretary, poked her head around the door frame and gaped at me like a fish. Which just got me laughing again. I was still laughing when I was collecting my things, going down in the lift and hailing a cab (it's extremely difficult to hail a cab when you're balancing a box of stolen staplers and office supplies in one hand and loudly guffawing but I managed it somehow).



I'm on my way to Spike's office. It's somewhere I've never been before, a part of his life I've never seen but I'm on my way. Because when we finally parted this morning, after a week of secluded time together, it was almost physically painful to watch him walk through the door without me. He found it equally difficult, I think, because he only made it to the lift before hurrying back for one last panting hot make-out session in the hall outside my apartment. I'm surprised we didn't leave dents in the wall. And he only left after I promised him that he'd see me as soon as I got out of work and well, technically, I'm out of work now. So I'm on my way.



He still has to get his things from the apartment. His and Dru's apartment. He had to go buy a suit to wear to work this morning after he left my apartment, which he found funny but it bothered me. He's told me so many times not to worry about the technicalities of their split; that it couldn't matter less to him what she takes and what she leaves him but I can't help but think about it. What he's losing to be with me, what he'll have to wade through. But I'm not thinking that in the way the Buffy of old would have. I'm forcing myself not to. I know that he's gaining me, which apparently he prizes above everything else in the world. But he is going to have to deal with shit that I don't have to deal with. There are practical things to be dealt with when an engagement ends; money to be split, family members to inform, apartments to sell etc. The kind of relationship I had with Dru doesn't end with lawyers sitting around a table arguing over who gets what lamp, how much money is owed to whom and screaming matches over custody of the family dog.



No, the kind of relationship I had with Dru ends not with a bang but with a whimper. It ends with her quietly picking herself off the floor of my apartment and not glancing back once as she almost silently walks out the door. Out of my life. I haven't heard a thing from her and I can't say I'm surprised. I'm also not surprised that it hurts me, as I'm sure she's hurting right now. But there's nothing I can do about that. It's over. It's been over for a long time. I just didn't realize until it was almost too late, almost at the cost of my future. It doesn't mean I don't miss her, because I do. When I told Xander about everything that had happened, after he had whooped so loud that Spike, sitting next to me on the bed, had heard him, he'd said it was just the idea of Dru that I missed but he's wrong. He never got it and he still doesn't. I don't even think Spike gets it.



I love Drusilla. I do. I always, always will. I just can't be in her life. And she can't be in mine. What she needs from me I just can't give her and the only thing I need from her is for her to let me go. I was only half alive for so long and I can't blame it all on her. The more I let her rule me, the more she needed to and because it was such the norm for us as we were growing up, it warped who we both became. And now I'm unlearning that and learning about who I really am. Dru needs to do that too. I don't know if she knows it. I hope one day she will know so she has a chance to move on and grow and finally be happy. But I can't be the one to show her how. She'll have to figure it out on her own, like I did. She thought she needed me to fill her spaces, as she put it, but she only needed me because I let her mould me into what she needed. And after a while she needed someone to put down and I needed someone to put me down. I guess, in the worst interpretation of the word, we really were soulmates.



Sometimes I think if life hadn't broken our cycle we'd have been stuck together forever. But life has a funny way of slapping you upside the head, as Xander would say. And my slap came with peroxide hair and an ass you could bounce coins off. I guess I'm just lucky.





----------------------------------------------------------





I can see him through the shaded glass panels of his office. I take a moment just to watch him. The time apart, though only a few hours, feels considerable and the ache when not with him reminds me so jarringly of the years I spent without him that I almost feel the ever-present tears flood my eyes. But then I remember. I have him. I don't need to cry and wail and be weak. Because I'm Buffy Summers. I can have what I want. I can hardly believe that all I have to do is open the door and I'll be enveloped in his arms and yet I'm standing here watching him furrow his brow at whatever it is he's reading, sat at his desk. This thought pulls me out of my contemplative gaze and I reach forward to open the door to his office.



I shut the door behind me but he hasn't even looked up yet. He's sat behind his desk, his elbows and forearms laying on either side of whatever it is he's reading. His head is hanging so far over it I almost think he might be falling asleep, when he finally speaks.



"I'll be ready soon, Tom. Quit bugging me," he mumbles, eyes still trained in front of him. I feel a smile begin to edge over my face and before I know what I'm doing I'm dropping the blinds on his glass wall. He hears the whoosh of the blinds and finally looks up at me with confusion written on his face .. and then he sees it's me. And he smiles beautifully. His eyes are dancing with happiness. He stands and walks around his desk. I meet him in the middle of his office floor, a goofy smile on both our faces.



"Hey," he says softly, his hand tangling in my hair.



"Hey yourself," I reply, turning my head to nuzzle into his hand. His other comes up to join its twin in my hair and he pulls me toward him. He runs his tongue slowly along my upper lip before pulling me into a languorous, dazzling kiss that seems to last forever. When we pull back, I'm convinced the smile on his face could single-handedly power New York during a black-out and I can feel my heart doing a happy dance in my chest.



"You have no idea how many times I've sat in this office and dreamed about doing that," he says, looking at me like I'm a fantasy come to life.



"To me?" I tease and he gives me this 'duh, you retard' look. I grin at him like a love-struck fool, which I guess I am. "Glad I could fulfill that little fantasy for you."



"One down, ninety-nine million to go," he says with a happy sigh, his eyes twinkling.



"I have news."



"Good or bad?"



"Depends. If you're Buffy Summers it's good. If you're Melvin Wishart, not so much," and the way his face scrunches up in confusion makes me want to pet his head.



"Who's Melvin Thicket?"



"Wishart," I say, laughing and his little 'oh' in realization just makes me giggle like a school-girl and he apparently can't help but join me. I'll bet people other than us think we're sickening in our happiness but I really can't find it in myself to give a damn.



"I quit my job," I tell him when we've sobered.



"You did?" he says, smiling softly at me and god, it just makes me love him so much more. He just gets it. He knows I hated it and wanted out but didn't have the strength and instead of hitting me over the head with the practicalities of living in New York without an income, he's just smiling at me like he's proud I've done something to make myself happy. God, I love him.



"Yeah. I don't know what I want but I know what I don't want and that job is top of the list."



"Good for you, baby," he says encouragingly. I'm halfway drawn back to his lips when the door opens.



"Will, you've got to get that .. oh. Sorry."



"No, Tom, it's okay. I'm just about finished reading it." Spike says.



"Liar," I whisper so only he can hear me, nudging him in his side.



He turns to me and grins. Without taking his eyes off me, he says, "Tom? I'd like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Buffy Summers."



"Nice to meet you, Buffy. But I thought your girlfriend's name was Dru?" Tom says in polite confusion.



Spike's eyes haven't left mine yet and we're smiling our goofy grins and staring into each other's eyes as he replies.



"Sorry, mate, I think you're losing it. Me and Buffy have been together for years."



And we have. We just didn't know it.

... 5 years later ...





Life's pretty great. I can't believe the ease with which I think that but it's true. Life's pretty great. When you try, when you don't just sit back and let it all pass you by, it's amazing how quickly it all turns around. It always seems so impossible when you're stuck in a rut. You look at all the problems you want to fix - your job, how much money you make, the way you look, the way you feel - and think you're standing at the bottom of Everest with the solution on the top. But turns out you're just making mountains out of molehills. It's just your way of getting you not to bother because you're afraid. If it's too hard, you won't try. But it's not too hard. You can change your whole life. I did.



We're living in the UK now. Have been for about 2 years. We didn't come over with the intention of staying, far from it. Spike still had his job in New York and despite the fact that he'd taken a sabbatical from it, he had every intention of going back. But we wanted to travel. We wanted to see the world a little. Together. So he took about 4 months, unpaid, off and we took off. We tried to do the whole road trip in America thing along Route 66 because I'd watched Cars a few times before we left and was convinced it was my duty as a human being to drive through little Radiator Springs and spend some money on the poor little ignored town. Spike said I was insane and it didn't exist. Well anyway, we were starting from LA, having flown back to see my dad and introduce Spike to him (which didn't exactly go so well) and I wanted to take him to my mom's grave, which turned out to be one of the most emotional moments of my life. Spike held me and I cried and then he was crying and it was beautiful and cathartic and I felt like I was putting it all behind me, finally.



So we went on our road trip. It didn't go well. We'd got as far as Arizona before the arguing over the map got too much (Spike refused to use Sat Nav) and we spent one night on opposite sides of the bed in huffs - in this dingy little motel that would seem cool in your twenties but just seems gross in your thirties - before we decided to screw it all, drive back to LA, dump the god-awful old car back with the rental agency and just get a plane over to Europe and go travelling in style. We had the money, after all. Both of us had been saving for the whole of our twenties and what else are savings for if not to blow them on a 2 month long vacation? Yeah, that's the part my dad didn't like.



So we went to Paris, Nice, Geneva, Frankfurt, Venice, Naples and finally back to London, where we'd been planning to stay with Xander for a couple of weeks. The Xand-man (as he calls himself, though Spike refuses to) had made quite a life for himself over the pond. He had a lovely old Georgian town house in London that he'd remodelled himself and we got the whole third floor of his house to ourselves. He regretted it, of course, because it meant his bedroom was below ours and .. well, the noises .. he said it was worse than when he travelled in Africa. Jungle noises apparently. I still think he's exaggerating. But anyway. Spike wanted me to see where he'd grown up. I met his dad, we visited his mom's grave and a few of his old school friends, one of whom confirmed the whole 'poking the girl with a stick in Biology class' story for me but I still find the whole thing suspect, and we basically just completely fell in love with the city.



It took a while for us to really make the decision to make the move though. For one thing Spike's job. For another thing my job. I'd gone back to school to do art not long after quitting my job and I'd been working at a little school part-time for less-than-well-off teens who couldn't afford art school or get scholarships. I loved those kids but Spike said there would be just as many in London, if I really wanted to leave. There was a lot of paper-work and selling apartments and Spike and me scouring for jobs in London and green-card stuff to work out but eventually after about a year we'd cut all ties and moved over. We got ourselves a cute little house just outside of London, that wouldn't make commuting time too obscene. Both of us decided we didn't want to live in a city any more, though we'd still be close enough to a city to placate my Mod-Con brain. We're in a little village .. well, I call it a little village. Spike says villages only have one pub whereas our town has 10. But still, after New York this place is a goddamn village, thank you very much. It's a cottage, one floor but pretty spacious. There's a gorgeous garden with one of those little fences halfway down it, with an arch, and big trees that hover over our house and every time there's a full moon I make Spike have sex with me under them. Not that I have to make him. He's pretty much on me 24/7, or would be if we didn't have to work. Not that I'm complaining. I love my husband just as much now as I ever have.



Oh yeah. We got married. Back at the start of our road trip failure. We got married in a crappy little chapel by the side of the road. I was wearing my white summer dress with buttons down the front and that only made it to mid-thigh and Spike, of course, was in his ever-present-outside-the-office black jeans, though I did manage to get him to wear a light cotton shirt instead of the black t-shirt. The paint was peeling off the walls of the place and the music they used when I walked down the ailse (which was about 2 feet long) made us giggle so hard we could barely hear the 'minister'. But we didn't care. We really, really didn't. We just wanted to be married. I didn't want a wedding with him, I just wanted to be married to him. I've never been the type to dream of a big wedding day where everyone's forced to sit and worship at the altar of me and my love and we both just wanted to spend our savings on our honeymoon as opposed to our wedding day. It was perfect. It was just me and him and our future laid out before us. Plus the hot sex in the woods behind the chapel afterwards still ranks as my favourite so far. And we've tried to beat it a lot. A lot.



So life is pretty great. I'm sitting here in our back garden on the stone bench that, when we were christening it, left a graze on my butt so sore that I couldn't have sex for 2 days. Since then, Spike has always been careful to leave a throw out here and he always remembers to bring it inside when it's raining. He's fucking perfect. Spike's on his way back from work in the cute little Audi that he bought because I almost had an orgasm in the showroom when he got in it to try it out and he looked so fucking hot I almost pounced on him right then and there. It was the easiest sale the salesman ever made. I'm not working right now but we can more than survive on Spike's ker-ching paycheck. He's working for a lawfirm that have been Established since 1754. 1754! That's older than America, for god's sake! And they like him. They like him a lot and show him every month with his paycheck. Of course, I like him more. And I show him every night in our bedroom. And our hall. And our living room and .. well, anywhere the urge takes us. And it takes us a lot.



I've finished with school and have my little crappy art degree but I'm not an artist. I'm not that good. What I am good at is art appreciation. Those who can't, appreciate. So I'm trying to start up my own school for under-priviledged teens who love art, right here in the village (town! I hear Spike yell in my hear). It's hard but it's on its way.



I've only seen Dru once since that day she walked out of my old apartment in New York. And it wasn't how I always imagined it would be. It was pure chance that we even ran into each other. Turns out all that bother I was imagining when Spike and Dru spilt never happened. When he finally went back to their apartment, she had moved all her stuff out, with no note or anything, and left him everything that was rightfully his. No fuss, no muss. Neither of us had heard from or seen her for about a year and a half the day I ran into her in the park.



I was standing at one of those hot dog vendors, just outside the entrance to the park, munching away on what Spike calls a hot-rat cause he thinks it'll put me off them. It doesn't. Well anyway, I wandered over to a little bench to finish my delicious rat in a bun, when I felt something tickling at the side of my senses, something telling me to look up. I did. And standing about 20 feet away was Dru. And she was looking right at me. She was with some guy I'd never seen before. He was carrying her bags and it looked like he was trying to hail a cab for them. She was as impeccably dressed as ever. Her hair was shining in the sun. She looked lovely. I felt an overwhelming urge to cry when my eyes met hers. Then she smiled at me. Not a full, my-grin-is-cracking-my-face smile. A small one. One like she was telling me a secret; like it was just ours, like only we would understand it. I gave her one back, feeling my eyes fill with happy tears. God, I missed her so much in that moment. She kept looking at me as her man finally hailed a cab. When he opened the door for her she paused, her gaze still held with mine, until I nodded at her a little, still smiling through my tears. And with one final grin at me, she turned and got into the cab.



I sat on the bench for 30 minutes, in a daze.



When I finally got home I started crying and when Spike got home from work, he was so worried about me I thought his face would turn blue. But I was okay, I kept telling him. I felt like I was .. healed or something. I felt whole. And then I was laughing with him.



I've never told anyone about seeing her. That moment's just mine and Dru's. I haven't seen or heard from her since. But I hope she's okay. I hope she's got her happiness now.



I hear his car pull into our little gravel driveway and my heart starts skipping like it always does when I'm about to see him. I stay on our bench, looking at the sky hovering over our garden and think of our life together and what we've carved out for ourselves. Our little corner of the world.



I never knew I could be this happy. This content. I never thought I could have all this. I never believed in myself enough to chase after it. But I do now. And he does too. This is our life together and it's perfect.



I feel his arms wrap around me from behind and he leans in to press his face into the side of my neck, smelling my skin.



"Hey baby, I'm home," he whispers. I smile and twist in his arms to lock my lips with his.



Life's pretty great.







The End.