Chapter 4: This is Your Soul, This is Your Soul on Earth

Acceptance- the understanding of having a certain meaning or purpose. To agree to take on responsibilities.



Cont…


“Thrilled”


“You know, you are exceedingly crotchety for an angel, and bub, I’ll tell you right now it ain’t gonna win you any points with the lady!” Ulysses chubby finger was flailing wildly towards the sharp scowl he was currently receiving.

“Yeah? Well seems to come natural, ‘right mate!” Spike’s brows knitted together before confusion marred his features, now a common occurrence. “Why exactly is that?”

“Being crotchety? Well you did get laughed at by a girl and…”

“No you git!” he snarled, “being… well ‘m naturally some what… ‘m a little bloody… Well, yeah actually.” He sighed defeated.

Ulysses picked at his fingers absentmindedly, shrugging away his response. “It’s just your personalty I suppose, all swagger and boom.”

Spike lunged forward. “Like hell it is! You did this too me! I was never… never before, Angels aren’t--”

“Well you’re not an Angel any more are you buddy-boy?”

Spike opened his mouth to protest but was hushed.

“Every soul has a personality, an essence and it’s not until that soul is on Earth that it is able to develop. The millennia you spent behind the gates you were a pure spirit, one that was never going to get the chance to ever spread its wings, so to speak.” He snorted. “This is who you have always been my bleached brother… we just added Earth and set the timer to hottie.”

The blond raised a skeptical brow. “How on Earth,” he paused shaking his head at the analogy, “am I suppose to accept that I can go from a blessed bloody Angel to a… to a… well ‘m a bad man!”

“I wouldn’t go that far, you’re a bit brash yes, a touch testy, I’ll admit, perhaps a hair hot-headed, but…”

“Got the point thanks!”

Ulysses erupted into laughter yet again.

“BUT,” he cleared his throat, expelling the last giggles, “you could never be a bad man, not ever Spike. You’d do good to remember that.”

“Right, I’ll be embroiderin’ it on a bloody cushion next time you see me, get right on it.”

“Now that, I’d pay to see.” He winked.

“Yeah, when Hell freezes over,” mumbling Spike turned from his all too pleased friend, descending the stairs two at a time before stopping abruptly.

“Oh and Lyss?” He waited for mischievous eyes to come upon his smug expression. “For the record mate, seems to be winin’ me plenty o’ points with the lady.”

“Cocky too.” Ulysses breathed, shaking his head while watching his charge finish his decent, a delighted little grin curling his lips. “This is going to be fun.”


~~


Buffy hopped onto the aged elevator, a slight skip to her step that hadn’t been there for weeks. Not since she lost her mother. Bouncing on the balls of her feet she hit 1 and let her mind wander as the door slid closed.

Major points goes to Giles for recruiting the way hot British guy to our neck of the woods. She stepped through the threshold onto the first floor as the doors gave way again. He had good muscles, and good lips, and good… what am I thinking he had good everything, definitely an A for goodness. Meandering towards her apartment she paid little attention to anything other then the beautiful man in her mind. Spike… Spike… I wonder how he got

Her thought was cut off.

“Hey. Buff.” The greeting was drawn out but still popped from between Angel’s lips.

Buffy cringed, just a little, the nickname somehow sounding perverted coming from him. “Hello Angel.” Her steps never faltered, she continued past wringing her hands together.

“What? No hug?” His arms stretched out to both sides as he stepped further out from his threshold.

“Is there something you need Angel?” She spat the words vehemently.

The tall man smirked, hands sliding into his pockets. “As a matter of fact-”

“Something that doesn’t involve me slapping you for even thinking, let alone saying out loud. In fact why don’t you just not talk, try ever again, sounds like a plan to me.” She pivoted away again sharply, not wanting to deal with his games.

He leaned back against the door jam now, loving when she sassed him, knowing he could get her to play. “Well I was going to say I needed help re-installing the blinds that keep falling down, shotty work by the manager I’m guessing…” he spat, “but if you’re busy I could just call Giles and-”

“Stop!” Buffy’s hand flew out, panic striking her features. “I’ll help!” She forced herself calm, eyes snapping shut only to re-open slowly. Why does he always do this? “Just give me a little while, I’ll be over this after noon, promise.” She faked a smile.

“That’s my girl.” He purred.

She hesitated until he turned back into his dwelling. “Not your girl.”

She shrank into herself, eyes never leaving her feet as she crawled away to the safety of her home.

“Never was your girl.”

~~


Ulysses allowed his gaze to roam over his mission and the surrounding apartment, never leaving his spot perched on the edge of the loft. His head slid from side to side, shaking ever so slightly.

“Unless you know something I don’t and Buffy is hiding someone in here don’t you think we’re wasting a little time here sport-o?” He snorted, watching Spike open and re-open every door, cupboard and drawer throughout the entire apartment.

“Just trying to get m’self acquainted with the new place is all… don’t want to forget where the loo is in m’ own flat! Bloody embarrassin’ that!” As he spoke he was moving around food in the fridge, wondering if he would like the taste of any of it. Hot Buffalo wings? Not made from buffalo… this place is so bloody confus-

“Well whenever you are ready to… I don’t know… save Joyce Summers and-”

“Best stop right there mate…” Spike pointed severely at his guide, “You’re on dangerous ground!” His guilt fanned his rage.

Ulysses hands went up in surrender as he spoke with a shrug. “I’m just trying to keep you on track here my ivory Adonis, the faster you make amends the faster you… well… make amends.”

“‘Bout that?” The blond was clearly contemplating something. “Didn’t you tell me that once I allowed you to zap me with your Scorch o’ the Earth there that I would… what was it….” He scratched his chin, “Oh right, know how to make amends.”

“Did I?” Ulysses played dumb.

“Angel or not I will gladly teach you a-”

“Whoa! WHOA!” He placed outstretched arms between himself and the rapidly advancing Ex- Angel. “You know all about Buffy and Joyce and you should remember what it was she saw by now, am I right?” He hoped.

“Yeah. Thanks, once again, to you and your accidental on purpose mind searing touch. Remind me to send a bleedin’ card!”

“I highly doubt you were sent to Earth for witty banter and verbal sparring, this isn’t the TV movie of the week, it’s real life Spikey-boy… sooooo I suggest you think about the task at hand.” He stressed the urgency of the real issue with his tone, despite the joke. “What did Joyce see Spike?” He was serious now.

Spike evaded eye contact now, suddenly nervous, mouth dry.

“Her mother? When I…uh… sod it.” He gave in and allowed his eyes to slip closed. “She saw the girl first, cryin’ and carrying on…” His head was swaying; he appeared to be in a daze. “Doesn’t seem natural, a girl like that, so… so broken.” Clearing his voice he continued. “Then it was Buffy again, but… there was somethin’ different ‘bout her, no tears. She was tossin’ out some books, got no clue what that’s ‘bout. Then…” He growled deep and low, fists clenching. “Some pillock tryin’ to have a go, aimin’ at forcing himself on her!” His face lightened a bit. “Looks like she was doing a right good job of fightin’ him off though…” smiling, “She’s a spark plug, this one.”

“All of that is significant… not only did that contribute to our little Golden Goddesses predicament, but to Joyce’s as well. It was those images that caused the rift, got it bucko.” He accentuated each word with a deliberate nod of his head.

“Right. So deal is… the bird’s all torn up ‘bout mom and Captain Forehead…” Ulysses eyed him at that, “and it’s my job to get her to what? Man up and cope? Believe in God again?” He seemed confused.

“Not sure.”

“Oi!” Spike’s eyes narrowed as he raised his voice, he was pacing now. “You said all I had to do was make her believe!”

“Is all that bleach going to your head?” This did not elicit a better reaction so he continued quickly. “What I said FIRST was that it wasn’t that simple!”

“What are you on ‘bout now?” He sighed, exasperated.

Ulysses traversed the distance between them, making his way to the living space below. “Well you are right about making her believe. It’s just not as simple as all that. She isn’t just having a crisis of faith here, it’s gonna take more then some Touched by an Angel Roma Downey pep talk to fix this.”

“Course it is. Wouldn’t be any fun if it was easy would it.” He settled on the couch. “So, what exactly is her deal?” Course I get the case with the chit who’s gone straight off the deep end.

“I couldn’t say-” Spike glared, “-exactly, but if I had to guess, knowing how fragile humans are in general… I’d say she’s lost her faith in everything, not just the Big Guy.”

“She seemed pretty happy when I met her… sassy even?” The blonde’s lips curled up appreciatively.

“If you trust me on one thing Spike… let it be this, looks can be deceiving… that girl is anything but.” Ulysses let out a long breath of air.

Nodding his head once Spike took everything in. “Right, well then I think a plan is in order, don’t you Lyss?”

“Couldn’t hurt…. Well I mean it could but that’s pretty rare, and I still think everyone over-reacted to the whole Watergate thing any-”

“Now who needs to focus?” He wore his smug expression proudly, turning away.

“Cheeky little…” he mumbled under his breath.

Spike snapped his head back around. “I heard that! Someone needs a lesson in manners.” He sing-songed.

“Cheeky and deluded… wonderful.”


~~


Once safe within the confines of her apartment Buffy allowed herself to relax, rolling her shoulders a few times to ease the tension. She walked over to the window, peering out at the bright and busy palm tree lined street below.

Riiiiiiiiiing

The phone interrupted her daze. She rubbed up and down her arms as she strode over to the receiver as if she was suddenly cold.

“Hello, Buffy Summers speaking.” She made sure she sounded as carefree as possible.

“Ah splendid! You’re home.” The warm English accent brought a soft smile to her lips.

“Yes Giles I’m home, I’m always home… I’m like the homeliest person there is,” she paused, “wait, never mind. What’s up?”

“Right,” he ignored her faux pas, used to them by now, “I just rang to inform you that I’ll be arriving back in the States this evening and should be home no later then 11pm tonight.” He sounded as if he was doing something else, packing perhaps.

“I am way ahead of you this time,” she bounced excitedly, “I have a car ready to pick you up after your plane lands and all the recent applications in alphabetical order on your desk!” She finished triumphantly.

“Buffy you really didn’t have to go and do all that, you are the building manager, not my personal assistant. I am fully capable of taking care of my own travel arrangements.” He sighed.

“Yeah, but I barely do anything around here and you let me live here rent free now, makes me feel like a mooch!” Buffy whined, but just a little.

“A what now?” Giles was cleaning his glasses, Buffy was sure. “Never mind, thank you anyway, it’s a lovely gesture none the less.”

“So how was the vacation back to the old country anyway?” she snorted, “bet you got into all kinds of trouble didn’t you? You can tell me… I’ll bet you were a rebel?”

Giles took a deep breath into the phone. “I can assure you I was no such thing. It was… restful, but I am ready to be back home.”

“Ahhh Giles! You missed me!” The blond squeaked teasingly.

He fumbled with his words for a moment. “Well, yes, I suppose I did. How exactly are you fairing?”

Her good mood dimmed a tad. “Oh you know, bright and bubbly.”

“Right.” Giles shook his worried head. “Well in any case I’ll be home in no time at all and it sounds to me like you have everything covered.” He thought briefly, “Buffy…”

He waited for a reply. “Yes?”

“You didn’t say the applications were put in alphabetical order did you.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose together fearing he had heard her right.

“Uh huh! And I separated male applicants from female applicants! Why?”

“Oh dear lord!” He said it softly but was definitely cleaning his glasses again.

“What? What’d I do?” Buffy wore a worried expression, pushing out her bottom lip into a pout.

“Nothing… nothing for you to worry about now,” he chuckled lightly, “just, for future reference… all applications must be evaluated,” he paused again, “in the order wince they arrived to us, only fair you see.”

“Oh!” Buffy’s eyes popped to full diameter. “Ohhhh, Giles I am so sorry, I mean really, I couldn’t be sorrier!” She pleaded.

“It’s quite alright Buffy, I’m sure I will make do just fine.”

She sagged down into the chair near her, picking at her blouse, pouting once more. “And I’m sure it will never happen again.”

“Again, it’s fine.” He reassured her. “Oh and Buffy, how is our newest inhabitant settling in?”

“Newest? Oh!” Recognition dawning. “He’s, he’s, he’s…” she stopped and started several times, “so good.” It came out a little too passionately.

“Really?” Giles pondered her curious behaviour, but shrugged it off. “Well that’s a relief. I’ll see you later then.” He cut her off before she could say her goodbye, “Oh and Buffy… stay out of trouble, yes?”

“Hey! I’m no troublemaker! In fact I’m totally a Good Samaritan! Just yesterday I helped this little old—“

“Buffy.” He interrupted, “I didn’t mean to imply you were a troublemaker, just that I want you to take care,” he cleared his voice, “I worry you know.”

She felt a pang of guilt for snapping at him. “I know Giles. You take care too. See you when you get back.”

“Yes, until then.” With that he nodded once, as if she could see him and hung up the phone.

Buffy returned her handset to its dock, slumping down even further into the blue high back chair. Why does Giles even put up with me? First he deals with me always paying rent late, then with my mother getting sick and me flaking out completely for months. Then he helps me through… She shuddered. And now I live here rent free in exchange for being the ‘manager’. She snorted out loud, shaking her head. Well, not like being at these peoples beck and call is exactly easy… crap! She remembered Angel and sighed.

Noticing her small tool tote near the door she tilted her head to the side, eyeing a hammer. Mr. Fix It huh?


~~


“So.” Ulysses stood before Spike, an arm rising to stop by his head, one finger popping up. “First, you get to know the girl, can’t exactly change her whole life’s path if you’re not close.” His ward nodded once in response. “Second, you interrogate! But gently, girls are skittish, like little lambs,” Spike snorted up at the Angel, “Hey! Don’t start with me!” He continued, shifting his weight, putting his two fingers back into place. “Find out everything you can about how she feels, and what has happened in her past. Once females start talking it’s all hugs and songs and closure. Third,” another finger, “talk to her about your life, why you are happy and fulfilled and what not.” Spike’s eyes grew wide, worried. “Easy my pale partner it wont be all that bad, you have a ‘life’ story swirling around there in your brain and if I’m not mistaken it’s a pretty damn good one. Fourth is professional counselling, good thinking on that by the way and finally fifth is priest intervention. ” Ulysses ended smiling.

Spike just looked sick. “A-and that will work then?”

“Absolutely! We have a five step fail safe here brother!” His wings fluttered.

“Right.” The blue-eyed newborn sighed. “I jus’ hope it doesn’t take all that.” Spike thought about the last step, priest intervention. Not exactly gaggin’ to go traipsin’ ‘round the holy and such. With me being formerly of the like and talkin’ to an imaginary Angel I think less is more with the church on this one.

Ulysses knelt down before him. “Spike--” A knock at the door and he was gone in a blink.

“Jesus!” He slapped his face. I’ll never get use to that, that or the swearin’. Another knock. That, the swearin’ or the soddin’ knockin’.

Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock

“Oi! I’m comin’!” Spike pushed himself off the couch; sauntering over to the door a little irritated he flung it open. “What?”

“Holy Geez Louise!”


~




*A/N: Now that Ulysses and Spike have their plan and we know a little more about everyone and their relationships the 'apartment talking' is over and it'll be plot plot plot from here on out!!! Oh and I bet you can't guess who's at the door! Please pwwwwease review and tell me your thoughts and your guess for who has come to visit! May not be who you think! *g**

Chapter 5: Every Maiden needs a Knight, every Knight a Trusty Steed.

Generousness- a trait of being liberal in giving or sharing. Characterized by nobility and forbearance in thought or behaviour; magnanimous.



Cont…


“Holy Geez Louise!”


Spike stared, dumbfounded at the blond before him. Partially surprised to find another stranger at his door, but more shocked by the awestruck expression radiating from him. And was he holding something? Spike allowed his annoyed gaze to travel down towards the now speechless boy’s hands. Cake?

“Huh?” More of a snort then a question finally broke free from between the Brit’s parted, still sneering, lips.

That seemed to break the spell. “You look just like Timothy Dalton in License to Kill!” It came out hushed and excited, appreciative eyes swelling.

“What’s that?” He looked back up at the now bouncing young man.

“Oh! OH! English! My mistake! You’re more like a young Elrond of Rivendell then a Bond!”

Spike arched a brow. “Am I now?”

“Stoic too! So mysterious! It’s just like an Elvin king to--”

“Look boy!” he silenced him, “I’m not a bloody Elvin anything! Jus’ a bloke, like you.” He looked him up and down. “Well, close enough anyway, “ he said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m Andrew!” he stuck his cake filled hands towards Spike. “Your neighbour, friend, and humble servant!” he giggled nervously.

He glanced down at the treat again. “Am I supposed to shake ‘em or eat ‘em?”

Andrew’s head jerked towards the shaking plate he held and back up. “Oh!” he squeaked, “It’s Tarvokian pound cake.”

Spike simply stared.

“TNG?” Andrew’s eyes grew wide. “Worf prepared it for Cadet Crusher for his first visit back aboard Enterprise-D from Starfleet Academy in 2369!” he gasped.

“What… in the name of God, “ he glanced upwards matter-of-factly, “are you goin’ on ‘bout?”

“Star Trek?” He waited for any sign of recognition, when none appeared he continued. “Only one of the greatest shows ever--”

“Show eh?” Spike cut him off, “well if it’s a show num-nuts then how the hell do you know how this soddin’ make believe cake is made?” Andrew opened his mouth to answer only to be stifled with the raise of Spike’s hand. “Never mind, yeah, I don’t want to know.”

“It’s for you,” Andrew replied, now a little defeated, “Welcome to the building?” He hung his head, questioning, awaiting reassurance.

He couldn’t handle the young man’s sulking. “Yeah, yeah. Come on in then.” Backing away, gesturing through the threshold.

Andrew bounced once more, skipping into the apartment. “Wow,” he took in the setting, “looks so different then mine.” He turned towards his host. “I mean it’s nice, you could definitely use some posters or figurines or something, but it’s tidy! Very you. Minimalist, like the walls could give way to a hidden room, like you have a secret identity you’re trying to hide!” Spike’s features tightened, growing worried as his company spoke. “Everyone thought he was just a man… but soon they discovered he was--”

Spike couldn’t take anymore. “Oi!” Silence. “Enough with the conspiracy theories! Jus’ a regular bloke remember?” He lied.

Andrew set the cake on the bar. “You don’t have to be such a sensitive sally! I was just messing around.”

“Right. Jus’ not used to havin’ anyone pokin’ ‘round in my personal life is all.” He kicked the ground.

“It’s not exactly poking unless you actually do have a secret identity. Which would be totally awesome by the way!”

Nervousness flashed upon Spike’s face once more. “Sorry to disappoint,” he recovered, “but I’m as boring as they come mate.”

“Mate?” Andrew beamed, “I’m your mate? That’s like best friends in Britalian right? Two rogue warriors! We’ll be like Han and Chewy, like Picard and Riker, Frodo and--”

Spike grabbed him by his shoulders and shook, hard. “Get a grip boy! We jus’ bloody met!” Andrew’s face fell, causing Spike to soften a bit. “So there’s plenty o’ time to get acquainted with one another, no point rushin’ it, yeah.”

“Right.” Andrew nodded in agreement, “a real bond must be forged in the fires of trust and brotherhood, in--”

“And… if you’re gonna suffer a chance in bleedin’ hell, you’ll stop right there. I don’t know how much more of this mordor-galactic-trek-bond what-not I can take.” He stated.

“You do watch!” Andrew whispered as he threw himself at Spike, crushing him into an enormous hug.

Spike was too stunned to protest.

“Uhhhh-huuum.” The clearing of someone’s voice came from the still open doorway.

Spike’s horrified eyes snapped towards the sound. Andrew kept hugging.

Buffy just giggled, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No!” he said it too quickly, pushing his captor away, “We’re havin’ cake!” He slammed his eyes shut the moment the comment left his lips.

“Is that right?” A sinister grin spread wide across her face.

“Buffy!” Andrew immediately rushed to her, ignoring the brutal treatment.

She delicately wrapped her arms around him. “Hi Andrew.”

Spike glared, tilting his head to the side. “You two best pals then?”

The blond boy replied first. “Oh yes! Miss Buffy is the ‘mistress o’ the house’,” he said in a horrible British accent, “she takes care of us.” He squeezed her then.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“She’s just being modest,” Andrew petted her hair innocently, gazing at her, “she’s a guardian angel.”

“Andrew stop!” She kept it light but still pushed him off of herself, fixing her hair back into place.

Spike snorted at the comment. If she was a bloody angel I don’t think I’d be in quite the trouble I am.

“No really!” he said earnestly, “she once got my ten inch limited edition Gandolf un-stuck from the treacherous mouth of the garbage disposal without injury!” he sighed loudly, placing a hand over his heart, “I have been indebted to her since that faithful day.”

Buffy’s cheeks flamed. “It was nothing, really.”

Andrew scoffed.

Spike’s brow soared to new heights. He strode closer to the two blondes “Well, well. Aren’ you just a livin’ breathin’ hero.”

“Shut up Spike!” Buffy warned playfully, turning a deeper crimson under his seductive stare. Is he flirting?

“Your name is Spike?” Andrew interjected, stunned.

Both Buffy and Spike turned towards him suddenly. Buffy’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling a giggle.

“There a problem with that?” he said, posturing.

Andrew shook his head, denying any such issue.

“You know, you two looked pretty cozy a moment ago for not even knowing each other’s names,” her eyes danced with mischief, “how does that work exactly? No talking, just what? Cuddling and cake eating?” she berated, “how new age.”

Spike zeroed in on the girl before him, ready to bite back. Only he was interrupted.

“Oh he knew my name!” Andrew chirped, “I think he’s just the strong silent type.”

Spike’s eyes popped from his skull. “Bloody hell! Can’t a bloke catch a soddin’ break! Or is utter humiliation all that this world’s offerin’ at the moment?” He ran a hand through his hair charging further into the apartment, only to throw himself onto the couch.

Buffy followed him in, coming to stop in front of him. “Quit being such a baby. It doesn’t suit you.”

He went to protest, opting instead for a heavy pout.

Oh god. Oh god. OH god. Maybe if I just lean forward a bit I could get that lip between my teeth and just—Uhhn! Stop! Bad Buffy!

He noticed her face and neck flush, it somehow different then the embarrassment he’d seen tint her creamy complexion before. His eyes focused more precisely, his senses pricking up, like a dogs. “You ‘right pidge? Suddenly look a lil’ short o’ breath.” he smirked.

Andrew wandered over to the bar still watching them carefully. He proceeded to make himself comfortable, unwrapping the treat he had brought and helping himself as he enjoyed the show.

“I- uh- I’m- is it warm in here?” Buffy questioned through her stammer, fanning herself for emphasis.

“Not at all luv.” He stood then. “Must be me that makes you hot?” He leaned his upper body back, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.

She would have argued, should have. Going as far as to even hit him perhaps. But he leaned. And he bit that lip. And she no longer remembered, what would Buffy do?

Her eyes fluttered, all her faculties allowing her. And then it escaped, that little. betraying. whimper. Oh GOD!

“Holy sensei! You’re like Nosferatu trapping an unsuspecting maiden in his thrall!” Andrew bubbled over with enthusiasm.

That did it. Buffy was shaken from her state, looking back and forth between the two men several times before throwing a strategic hand onto her hip. “Yeah right!” she tried, “there was no Nose-forgot-you thrall thingy! I was, I was just weak,” she paled when both men smiled knowingly, “from not eating today!” She quickly corrected in a huff.

The males replied simultaneously. “Right?” Spike declared in disbelief. “Cake” Andrew offered, mouth full with his newest bite.

“That’s exactly right,” she said, acknowledging the Brit first, “and no I do not want cake Andrew! What is that anyway it looks like year old fruit cake?”

“Hey!” he whined, “this is Tar--”

“Oh please do not get him started!” Spike commented, moaning.

Andrew, successfully shut down, mumbled something under his breath about nobody being grateful and returned to eating his confection.

“Hey! That wasn’t very… very neighbourly!” Buffy surmised.

Spike glowered. “Oh and you tellin’ the whelp his cake looks like old fruit that’s what? Neighbour of the Year material?”

“That is not what I meant and you know it! I so did not come over here for this!” she steamed.

Realization suddenly dawned on him. “And why, exactly, did you come here for pet?”

“I- I- I-,” she couldn’t bare to ask for his help now, “nothing, it’s not important.” Buffy let out one frustrated breath and turned to leave, halting when a cool hand wrapped possessively around her forearm. She turned back, meeting regretful eyes.

Regretful eyes that instantaneously became over-wrought with emotion.

Spike had intended on stopping her from storming out. Had anticipated a few more angry words and an apology. What he had not been ready for was the feel of her boiling, silky skin clenched beneath his grip.

Oh dear lord. His eyes slipped closed, his jaw ticking once with desire. So soft, so bloody HOT, ‘s like fire! His thumb involuntarily stroked the tender flesh on the underside of her arm. Nothing, nothing is as good as--

“You two are just the cutest thing!” They had forgotten Andrew was still watching, both immediately pulling away from one another.

Both made a quick job of becoming very busy, suddenly enraptured by the tiniest stray thread or rebellious wrinkle in their clothing.

Buffy was the first to look up, unsure of what to say. “I should be going.”

Her words drew Spike’s attention away from the pocket of his denim. Don’t go. Why—ah right. He quickly remembered why she was leaving in the first place. “They're jus’ words Buffy.” He pleaded, sincerity evident, “didn’ mean a thing by ‘em.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets then, shuffling like a little lost boy.

And she was undone. “Of course not.” Her reply was hurried, almost involuntary. Maybe there is something to this thrall thing?

“Yeah?” Spike was shocked. Maybe there’s somethin’ to this thrall nonsense after all? “What was it that you dropped in for pidge?” He batted his eyelashes, testing out his new power.

“Oh. Right. I- uh- I was just going to see if you maybe wouldn’t mind helping me install some blinds.” She felt light headed, suddenly nervous. “I mean, if it’s not any trouble…” He made no attempt to interject. “You did offer so I just thought that… never mind, “ she sighed, shaking her head, “I’ll manage just--”

He was mesmerized, her agitated state somehow endearingly captivating. He caught the tail end of her rant just in time to realize his time to accept had come and almost passed. “Course luv.” He saved, “Jus’ name the time and place and I’ll be there, with bells on.”

Her smiled lit up the room. Light up Heaven itself that smile would.

“Great!” Buffy held her hands together behind her back, swaying softly, delighted. “Say an hour from now, apartment 13, first floor.”

“Your wish is my command Goldilocks.” He winked.

Oh he’s good.

He clicked his tongue behind his teeth, leaving it to protrude from between his parted lips for a few seconds longer than necessary.

Oh he’s too good. He’s either the Devil or an Angel. She snorted. What am I thinking, with my luck I’d get the Devil hands down.

“Well thank you Spike. It means a lot to me, really.” She began backing towards the door. He followed, matching every step. “So I’ll see you in an hour then.” He was prowling, making her a little flustered. “Yeah so—Eep!” She backed into the door jam, missing the opening by a foot. She flamed a dark red. “Bye!” She spun away and was gone before he could engage his prey.

“Minx.” Spike braced himself with one outstretched arm on the doorframe, head down.

“That’s kind of beautiful.”

Spike nearly shrieked, jumping at the sound of Andrew’s voice, taking large gulps of air. He calmed his heart rate, slamming the door shut a moment later, causing the boy to flinch in return.

“You have poetic bloody timin’ boy! Gave me half a bleedin’ heart attack.” He walked a few steps closer, stopping to lean back against a large wooden support beam. “And what was that?”

“You and Buffy.” He said, as if the correlation was obvious. “It’s a timeless tale. A knight pursues the reluctant maiden, aimed at rescuing her from her hellish existence, in the end only to be saved himself. Ahhhh,” he sighed, “amore.” His blue pools danced with whimsy.

Spike stared… again. This kid is good.

“Yeah. Right. No more Tar-what-ican fruit cake for you.” Spike crossed the remainder of the distance between them pulling the partially devoured treat away from Andrew.

“Hey!” He protested.

“Mine anyway.” Spike rebutted, holding the cake out of the boys now stretching reach.

“I made it!”

“It was a gift,” he faked shock, “I’m hurt.”

Andrew gave up his attempts to retrieve the dessert. “Well you better eat it then! That took me six hours to make!”

Spike’s expression became grave. “Right. I will, “ he lied, “jus’ savin’ it for later is all.” Smiling he put it back on the counter, sliding it as far from them as possible.

They both laughed at the mocking gesture.

His guest broke in first. “So, you’re totally Buffy’s love slave huh?”

Spike choked on his laughter, coughing harshly. “WHAT?”

“You do like her, and you’re helping her with stuff, hence the love and the slave.”

“I’m no one’s bloody slave mate!” he growled.

“Not yet anyway.” He looked pleased.

“Oi!” Spike looked at him incredulously.

“I could help you, you know!” Andrew’s eyes brightened.

“Yeah. Think I’m the lone wolf type ‘right, but thanks all the same.”

“No really! I know Buffy, I’m like her best friend!” Spike eyed him sceptically. “We have been through so much, and yet our love never had a chance, destined to be just friends…”

“Andrew.” Spike tried to cut in, unsuccessful.

“We share everything, but a physical love.”

“Enough!” he snapped. “If you stop your bloody jabberin’ you can help me with whatever you want ‘right!”

Andrew burst with excitement. “Oh! Oh! OH! I will be your right hand man! Your eyes and ears on the inside! I’ll be the Q to your Bond, the Alfred to your Bruce, the Spock--”

“You can be my trusty steed for all I care boy just shut up and leave already!”

He stood, immediately heading towards the door. “I’ll do reconnaissance and get back to you in--”

“Out!”

He opened the door pausing just before shutting it behind him. “Spike?”

Spike glared daggers, but waited for him to finish.

“It was nice to meet you!” With that he was gone.

The now exhausted blonde let out a long breath, relaxing into his seat at the bar. He allowed his head to drop onto the thick cherry wood, calm washing over him.

“Have fun?”

“AHH!” Spike flew back, tipping off the barstool, coming to a hard and painful landing on the floor. “Owwwwwww!”

“Geez big guy! Be careful! That body doesn’t come with a warranty!” Ulysses snickered.

He stretched awkwardly on the floor, assessing the damage. “Jus’ keep it up you bloody demon! I’m keepin’ track and you’d be right to worry ‘bout when I decide to settle the score!”

The Angel just lifted himself onto the bar-top, folding his arms over his chest he peered down at the still immobile man. “Noted. But really Spikey? Have fun with your new pal?” He seemed amused.

“Why? Jealous?” he retorted.

He giggled again. “As if that’s even possible. But really,” he waited for Spike to make eye contact, “If anyone’s Alfred it’s me.”

“Bloody hell!”

~



*A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed! Next up Spike spends a little quality time with Buffy! But will he be any help? How will meeting Angel go? Spuffyness in the next chap! Keep readin' too find out! PLease please please take a second to review! thanks!*

Chapter 6: Testing the Waters, Parting the Sea.

Desire- to crave or hope for, an intense longing. To need, to ask for, request.


Cont…


“Bloody hell!”



Spike allowed his eyes to close, releasing a frustrated sigh. He pushed himself off the ground with a harsh grunt, standing abruptly. He swayed.

“Hey?” Ulysses instantaneously disappeared from the bar only to materialize just as quickly by the unsteady man’s side. “What did I say? At the rate you’re going you menace, you’re going to be dead or in the hospital inside a week!” He steadied the blond with an arm. “And then where would I be?” whimsy dripped from his voice.

His dizziness abating, Spike jerked away from his guardian, glaring. “M’ apologies mother.”

“You said it, not me. And if you keep it up don’t think I’m past putting you across my knee.” he challenged.

“I’d like to see you try!” he answered.

Ulysses forfeited the fight, throwing his hands up in defeat he changed the subject, “Don’t you have somewhere to be in a little while tiger?”

Spike tensed remembering his date with Buffy. It’s not a date! He corrected himself. Jus’ helping the bird out is all. His palms began to sweat and he shot off towards the bathroom. I’m fucked, I’m fucked, I’m fucked.

The Angel followed after, clearly amused. “Tad nervous there mate?” he mocked.

He never changed coarse, bee lining for the door behind the staircase. He flung it open, straining its hinges, immediately twisting the faucet on. As cool water hit his face he let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding tight within his chest. “I’m fucked.” He finally murmured out loud.

Ulysses came to a stop behind him, leaning gently on the wall he burst with giggles, “Really? Apparently you’ve won more points with Miss Summers than I thought. Moving pretty fast though Spikey, never took you for a harlot?”

His usually alabaster cheeks grew dark as the blood rushed to the surface of his face in embarrassment. “You are the most infuriating bloody-” he paused not knowing what to call him, “thing in the entire bleedin’ universe! I’m through with it ‘right! So you can just beam yourself out o’ here, don’t care where, long as it’s not within ten miles o’ me!”

“Quit being such a baby!”

Spike reeled back a bit, his anger ebbing as he thought back to Buffy’s words earlier. He couldn’t help it, the corner of his mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile. “Doesn’t suit me does it?” he replied goofily.

Ulysses crossed his arms. “Actually it suits you just fine, you’re a big baby most of the time. I just wanted you to stop.”

He sneered at the devilish Angel through the mirror. Curiosity marred his features. “You have a reflection?” he questioned.

“OoooK,” he drew out, “I’ll bite. Yes I have a reflection Spike,” he spoke like he was addressing a small child, “Now why does that surprise you exactly?”

Spike flashed his best ‘very funny’ face and continued smugly, “thought only I could see you mate?” It was his turn to cross his arms.

“Ahhhh, and the mirror’s a person now is it?” he snorted, “Don’t think it’s gonna be gathering the town folk to come after me with pitch forks and torches, but one can never be too sure.”

“Oi! Jus’ thought that if you’re reflected there in the mirror that- that-,” he was unsure of himself now, “anyone that may come around could see you in it.” He knew how stupid he sounded. “Whatever, was jus’ surprised to see you there- like you were a normal person, don’t have to make a bloody thing ‘bout it.”

Ulysses took pity on him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “No worries. Honest mistake,” Spike eyes narrowed a little at that, “I appear as a normal person to you. Well, minus the wings and teleportation, but you get the drift. You can see my reflection, only you… if someone else were right between us… you’d see us both, I’d see us both and they… they’d only see you.”

Spike thought about this for a moment. “Why always pop off when anyone’s ‘round then?” he wondered.

“Give you privacy I suppose. Also I’d imagine seeing me when no one else can could get quite distracting.” He laughed lightly, “don’t get used to it… I’m not that considerate all the time.”

“Don’t have to convince me mate… I don’t think you’re that considerate any of the time.”

“Hey! You need to work on your gratitude mister!” he said, moving out of the way so they could exit the small room.

“Yeah?” Spike meandered over to the bar again, sitting with his back against it, elbows behind him propping himself up. “Well you need to work on actually helpin’ a bloke out… and then we’ll talk ‘bout gratitude, ‘right.”

Ulysses joined him at the bar facing the other way he sat beside him. “I help!” he whined in response, “I remind you of stuff and—Oh cake!” he interjected, noticing the partially eaten baked good pushed off to the side. He reached for it.

Spike slapped his hand away. “Mine!”

Ulysses turned towards him rubbing his stinging flesh. “Ow! Didn’t your parents teach you to share?”

“Hey, you’re the one who downloaded me with all m’ info and personal life history what-not… it’s your fault if I don’t play nice with others,” he snickered, “think you would have thought ‘bout that when puttin’ humpty dumpty back together again, wouldn’t you?”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” he said, arching a brow at his sassy friend.

He glanced around, lost for a second, then stood, starting towards the door.

“See I’m helping.” He called after him.

Spike paused as he pulled the door open. “Hey Lyss?” he didn’t look back, “don’t touch my cake.” And he was gone.

Ulysses shook his head. “Menace.”

~~

Spike stood directly in front of the door to apartment 13. His nerves getting the best of him he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to regain his composure. Breathe you git, you’re jus’ helping her out. A friendly gesture is all this is. She’ll come to the door and- his thoughts shifted coarse; I wonder what she’ll be wearing? Maybe she changed? Maybe she has little cover-alls for when she works? The image brought an immediate smile to his face, instantly giving him the courage he needed. No sense making that cute little- he knocked, thing wait another-

His thoughts were cut short, his smile turning rapidly to a confused scowl when a large brunette suddenly stood before him.

Angel glowered down at the smaller man, irritated not to find Buffy awaiting him. “Can I help you?” he bit out.

Spike’s expression became more grave as he replied in a rush, “Who, exactly, are you?”

“Me? You knocked on my door buddy,” he poked a strong finger into the intruder’s chest, “So don’t go-”

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Buffy ran up to them, coming out of nowhere. Grabbing Spike by the shoulder she drew him back and out of Angel’s reach. “Stop that!” she hissed, shooting an almost unperceivable glare towards the larger man. Turning back to the blond she apologized, “Sorry, thought I’d beat you here.”

“What is this Buffy?” Angel interrupted, “and who is this freak!”

She moved forward a little, unconsciously shielding Spike from him. “This,” she spat, “is me showing up to fix your blinds, or did you already forget about this need you have to constantly bother me! And this,” she gestured behind her, “is Spike, my assistant.”

Angel’s eyes grew wide, veins bulging from his forehead. “He is not coming in here! I-”

“Don’t have a choice! Well, unless you want to call Giles tomorrow and tell him that ‘Buffy came to over to do exactly what I asked but she brought someone to help her so now I’m pissed off and blind-less’.” She mimicked his deeper voice through the latter half of her tirade. “I’m sure he’ll be understanding.” She thrust her chin up defiantly.

Spike just stared down at her through all of it in awe. Body aching to reach out and touch the tiny ball of fire in front of him. He was sure, if he had, he would have been burned. He had to stifle a moan.

Angel clenched his jaw. Crossing his arms over his chest like a spoiled child, he finally moved to the side, the gesture all the invitation they were getting.

Buffy smiled then, relishing her win. As she passed into the apartment, tugging Spike along she introduced the two towers of testosterone, “Spike this is Angel, Angel, Spike.”

He couldn’t hold back the rebellious snort that escaped, nor could he stop himself from muttering, “not bloody likely,” in response to the jack-asses all too ironic title.

“What was that?” Angel arched a brow, slamming the door shut.

“Nothin’ mate. Jus’ wondering if that’s a given name is all,” he paused smirking, “or if it’s a nick-name that stuck, due obviously, to your welcoming and cheery disposition.”

Buffy, intercepting before another fight could break out, stepped between the men once more. “His name is Liam, Liam O’Connor.”

Angel stared, taking a long moment to thrust out his hand. “And you are?” he asked, “unless it’s just Spike.”

Spike took his hand, squeezing it a little too hard he answered, “William,” he thought for a moment, “Pratt.”

“Well, now that we’re done with introductions I think it’s best we get to work. We don’t want to impose any more then we have to, to get this done.” She said, heading over to the mess of blinds lying below the large window.

The men shared one last scowl before turning away from one another, both now just as eager to get this over with.

“I’ll be in my room,” Angel sulked, “make sure to shut the door on your way out.” He turned to Spike. “And don’t touch anything you don’t have to,” he snapped before disappearing.

Spike scoffed, shaking his head he made his way over to Buffy. “Real charmer, that one.” Bending down beside her he began mimicking her movements, readying the blinds for re-installation. “Don’t know how you put up with him kitten?”

Buffy’s eyes swelled to the size of saucers as she snapped her head over to stare. “Huh? What? N-No, I don’t- I mean,” she was stammering, “He and I aren’t- we’re not-”

“Easy now pet,” Spike soothed, “only meant that it must be some job havin’ to bend to these people’s every whim jus’ cause you’re the manager.” He smiled when she visibly relaxed. “But glad to hear he’s not your type.” He winked.

There was that feeling again. The one where she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think about anything but the desire rushing through her. She craved him at that moment. Like an addiction not being fed she suddenly itched, ached for a little taste, a fix. She desperately wanted to lunge forward, to crush her mouth to his. That would wipe the smirk off his face.

“You ‘right luv?” his voice broke, the question coming out more breathy then he would have liked, had he had complete control. Unfortunately he didn’t have complete control. Once again he was lost in her. Shivering under her predatory gaze, she appeared as if she wanted to devour him. He licked his lips picturing what it would be like to dive for her, capturing her pink lips in a searing kiss. Bet it would burn so good?

“Huh?” Finally realizing he had asked her something she responded.

“What?” He was ripped back to reality as well. “Oh! I jus’ asked if you were ‘right? Looked a little feverish.” He suddenly remembered something from earlier in the day. “Have you still not eaten pet?”

Buffy regained full control of her body, only to loose a bit of it again, her face tinting from his obvious concern. “No I haven’t, but I’m fine really, it was nothing.” She blushed deeper.

“Not buyin’ it Goldilocks,” he worried, “but I wont make a deal ‘bout it as long as you agree to come out to lunch with me once we’re through here.” He couldn’t believe he had just asked that.

She beamed. “Well I do owe you for helping me out here,” she faked indifference, “so I guess I could make it through a meal.”

“Oi! You’re killin’ m’ ego here pet!” He placed a hand over his heart in mock pain.

She laughed. He died. Or so he thought. He could have died at that moment and been okay with whatever Heaven or Hell awaited him, just as long as he remember that laugh.

“Not that I think your ego really needs it, but I would love to go to lunch with you Spike.” she said, wiping away the tears that had collected in her eyes. “Really.”

“Well then,” he said, standing, “let’s get this done shall we?”

“Eager to get out of here?” she teased.

“You have no idea.”

~



*A/N: Hope you liked... next chapter the spuffy-ness really starts to pop! Please let me know what you think... reviews make the plot bunnies dance and the posting fairy sing! *g**

Chapter 7: Sunny Days are Here Again.

Heat- intensity, as of passion, emotion, color, appearance, or effect. The most intense or active stage: the heat of the moment.



“Let me just grab my purse.” Buffy smiled coyly as she slid further down the hallway. “I’ll just be a second.”

Spike watched her retreat, eyes roaming over her tantalizing form. He sighed contentedly, relieved to be away from the choking atmosphere of his enemies home and eager to spend more time with the Goddess now on her way back to him.

“You weren’t kiddin’ ‘bout it only takin’ a second luv,” he said, holding his arm out for her.

She took it happily. “Yeah, I live right next door,” she answered, disappointment clear, “at least the walls aren’t thin, I have no desire to know what goes on in there when the blinds are up. I mean put up and then down of course.”

“Hmm?” He would have had more to say had he been able to comprehend human speech at that moment. As it were he was staring down at their entwined appendages, all attention on the way her fingers curled around his bicep.

She tightened her grip to reign in his focus. “Spike?”

He moaned. Out loud. Fuck!

“Are you ok Spike?” she worried, “We don’t have to go if-”

“N-no pet, I’m fine,” he managed convincingly despite his state.

Buffy raised a brow, eyeing him carefully. “Alright,” she conceded, “but lets go somewhere close by, now you’re the one looking feverish.” She patted and stroked the arm she was holding with her other hand.

Spike’s jaw ticked, the pressure from clenching it so tightly painful. “C-close is good.”

~~

“Targets, code names Beauty and Bond, leaving site- over.” Andrew whispered to no one as he slunk down low at the opposite end of the long corridor, his all black Lycra one-sy allowing him to blend into the shadows there.

He waited for Spike and Buffy to take the corner towards the exit before jumping up; hugging the wall he began his ascension. “Targets are out of visual range, mission Licence to Thrill may now commence.”

With that Andrew dashed through the hallway, passing Buffy’s apartment he came to a stop, instead, at the door to the Managers Office. Sinking down into a squat he made fast work of picking the simple lock, squealing quietly when he succeeded.

“Reconnaissance mission is a go,” he breathed excitedly, slinking swiftly through the passageway. “Stage one of mission,” he said, walking towards the filing cabinets to his left, “gather intelligence on Beauty.” He yanked one drawer open, sifting through the resident files, coming to a stop at Summers, Buffy. “Bingo.”

~~

As they approached the large glass double doors Buffy reached into her purse, plucking out sunglasses she slid them onto her face with ease. Beaming up at Spike she let her head sag slightly onto his shoulder as they passed through the entrance and out into the real world.

Spike, only able to enjoy her more intimate position for a brief spell was rendered completely immobile once the doors swung shut behind them, leaving them with no protection from the intense California sun.

“Jesus Christ.” He all but groaned out, the tingling feel of the warm rays heating his cool flesh.

“You sure you’re ok?” she was lifting her glasses in order to get a better look, squinting up at him.

“Yeah,” he barely stated, still enamoured with how the elements were teasing his body, the wind sweeping over him, feather light in its touch. His free hand came up involuntarily, starting at the collar of his black shirt he stroked downwards, absorbing the already burning temperature of the fabric, stopping just shy of his jeans. “It’s hot,” he whispered.

She was frozen now as well. Mouth suddenly dry she smacked her lips together faintly, needy for moisture. Buffy nearly collapsed when he rubbed himself. “Yeah. Hot.” was all she could manage.

Spike’s head lulled back, desperate for the pleasuring inferno to lay claim on his face.

Buffy, entranced by the soft-core porn esque display taking place before her, couldn’t help but to reach out, her hand straining towards him. Her curious fingers finally found his cheekbone, gliding over it slow and deliberate.

The dual sensations proving too much for him Spike jumped, releasing a guttural, “Uhhn.”

She mirrored him. A jolt of heat and lust coursing through her upon the touch, she jumped as well. “S-sorry,” she apologized, cheeks flaming, “You just seemed kinda out of it.” She looked away. Don’t you mean, you just seemed kinda sexy, all gorgeous and hot and I couldn’t keep my pervy hands off of you?

“N-no,” he began, calling upon all his will to temper his reaction to the glorious season. “It’s me who should be sorry,” he shook his head, “jus’ m’ first time in the sun.” It was out before he could register the faux pas.

“What?” Buffy questioned, “Did you live in a cave or something?”

Spike searched his mind frantically for a response, “I- uh- I- LONDON.” Smooth.

“London?” she folded her arms with skepticism.

Yeah. He thought. You said: Live in a cave? And I thought: No in London. And in a brilliant bout of genius I blurted it out like the total and utter wanker I am. He smiled meekly.

“And what? There’s not a sun in the sky when you live in England?”

She had said just the right thing. “Actually love,” he recovered, his usual bravado already returning, “there innit.”

Buffy blinked a few times, thrown by the slow sex that was his voice. She opened her mouth to protest only to be silenced.

“London’s a dreary hole pet. Majority of days are full o’ clouds and rain. Sun,” he pointed up, “rarely makes an appearance, and when it does, it’s got nothin’ on this.” Buy it, buy it, buy it.

She pondered this for a moment, nodding in agreement after a short time. “Good,” she retorted, “cause for a second there I was beginning to think you were some kind of uni-bomber or something, living in a cave never seeing the sun, it’d be creepy.”

Bought! Wait? “Oi! Thanks for the vote of confidence kitten! Creepy eh?” He raised his brow; “I believe you were the one who was getting’ touchy, takin’ advantage of a bloke in rapture!”

Caught. Damn! “Hey! I was not taking advantage! I barely touched you!” She smacked his shoulder. Making a show of putting her sunglasses back in place, she turned away in a huff.

“And she hits me,” he said with a disappointed shake of his head, “where will the torment end.”

Buffy turned back, not able to keep the smile from her face, “With dessert hopefully, that is if you stop your whining and follow me to the café just up the street.”

He snorted, “Lead the way princess, lead the way.”

~~

Andrew edged the door open an inch, peering out just enough to discern whether or not the coast was clear. He saw nothing. Tip-toeing from the office he quickly shut it behind himself with a click. Flipping his head back and forth rapidly he began to slink down the hallway towards the elevators once he was certain danger was not afoot.

Facing towards the front doors, the direction Spike and Buffy had disappeared too some time ago, he continued on his path, moving backwards.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“AH!” Andrew flew into the air like a frightened cat. As he came to a landing, heart beating out of his chest, he took in the sight of Angel. Standing just outside his apartment, arms folded aggressively over his large chest, a not so amused expression written across his features.

The boy’s eyes bulged and a girly shrieked ripped from his throat. “Abort! Abort!” he yelled, running as fast as he could for the safety of the lift.

Angel stood there, never even making an attempt to turn around after the blond. “I’m telling you,” he muttered to himself, “freaks.”

~~

“Café Lavelle?” Spike read the establishments name off of a napkin as they sat at an available table located in the small outdoor area. “Let me guess pet. Come here often?”

Buffy forced her shades up, leaving them to perch atop her head, holding back her sun kissed tresses. “I do,” she answered carefully, “but I’m curious, why would you just assume that.”

He tightened his lips into a smirk. “Don’t know luv, call it a gift.” She let out an unlady-like snort.

“Yeah? Well this gift of yours? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that this place is within two block of our building, reasonably priced, unpretentious and quiet now would it?” Her eyes sparkled, her tone challenging.

“Actually pet,” he held up a small menu, “I jus’ took you for a fan of the,” he glanced down at it for a quick second, “Chocolaty Goodness is it?” His expression was smug as he dangled the dessert list before her eyes.

“Hey!” she pouted, “you think you know me so well but you know what bub-”

“Hey Buffster!” A young man of medium build appeared, interrupting her rant. “Here for your usual? Tall glass of milk and one obnoxiously large piece of Chocolaty Goodness!” His smile reached from ear to ear, lighting up his entire face.

Buffy paled. “Speaking of obnoxious,” she avoided Spike’s celebratory gaze, “nice timing Xand, really, there should be balloons.”

“Huh?” he was confused, but chose not let it go. “And I see you have a friend with you today! A gentleman caller perhaps.” He winked nudging Spike.

Goofy lil’ whelp. Spike knitted his brows together defensively at the intruder only to have any animosity for the boy quickly dispelled once his eyes settled upon Buffy.

She looked absolutely panicked. Face aflutter with worry she was staring at Xander as if he had divulged the deepest darkest of secrets. Spike was delighted.

“Jus’ friends mate.” He answered, taking pity on his companion. He wasn’t expecting, however, for her expression to give way to another emotion. Disappointment? He wanted to scream at that moment. Wanted nothing more then to scoop her up into his arms, anything to show her that she would never be disappointed again. He opted for a slightly more subtle approach. “After all,” he added with a quick bite of his lower lip, “we jus’ met today.”

If the delicious pinking of her cheeks and the bashful bow of her head were any indication, his plan had worked.

“Riiiight.” Xander said, clearly sceptical. “Well, to honour this momentous occasion, cake’s on me.”

“Huh?” This garnered Buffy’s attention. “What occasion?”

“You two meeting, of course!” He threw out his hands. “Two young lovers,” he began in a terrible Italian accent, “brought together by fate, fate sealed with a cake!” He giggled.

Buffy’s eyes swelled once again. “Not lovers!” she whispered harshly, straining for others not to hear. “We just met remember Xander!”

He only smiled wider. “Of course not Buff,” he agreed patronizingly. Then bending down towards Spike before leaving he added, “Give it time my friend, the cake never fails.”

Spike nodded once at the waiter, keeping his stare fixed upon Buffy, enjoying her obvious blush. “Seems like a nice chap.”

“U-uh, yeah.” She fidgeted under his gaze. “Xander is great, owns this place,” she said, gesturing to the surrounding area, “he’s known for his amazing desserts and apparently for sticking is nose where it doesn’t belong. But aside from that he’s wonderful.” She smiled, shrugging.

He laughed lightly. “Well, we’ll see ‘bout the desserts now wont we.” He purred, winking.

Wink one more time buddy and I’m going to lunge across this table and attack you like a-

“Two colossal chunks of chocolaty heaven coming right up!” Xander reappeared interrupting her thoughts. He placed the desserts on the table, followed by tall glasses of milk. “There, my friends, is a virtual cornucopia of cakey deliciousness, if I do say so myself!”

“Thanks Xand.” She offered, quelling her earlier visions.

“Yeah. Thanks mate.” Spike seconded, holding out his hand. “Spike.”

The brunette accepted the friendly gesture, gathering up the awaiting appendage. “Xander Harris. Nice to meet you… Spike?” he questioned.

“It’s William Pratt, Spike jus’ stuck.” He corrected.

“Ah, I see. And I’m guessing there’s a story there.”

“Not one you’re ever hearing.” He warned playfully.

“Ah. Enough said.” He smiled warmly at Buffy. “Well you two crazy kids enjoy now, and as always, there’s more where that came from.” And with that he turned, dissolving back into the café.

“So pet, “ he began, “world famous treat, a personal favorite of Miss Buffy Summers.” He dug his fork deep into the rich confection. “I’m expectin’ perfection.”

“I stand firmly by my opinions on sweets.” She replied, readying a bite herself.

They raised their forks in cheers before plunging them into their waiting mouths.

“Ohhhh, bloody hell.” The words were a primal admission of total and complete approval. Both his hands slammed down upon the table, startling Buffy even more then his moaning had. Head lulling back he continued making soft pleasurable sounds, while hungrily licking his lips.

She stared, transfixed. Don’t go there Buffy. Don’t go there Buffy.

After drawing every last ounce of flavour from his first taste, swallowing hard, he finally returned to Earth. What he discovered once there was Buffy, staring wide-eyed at him, her fork still loaded with cake, mere centimeters from her gaping lips.

“U-uh, Sorry luv.” He picked up a napkin, searching for a diversion.

Someone pressed play. “Oh. Um- No. Don’t be,” she reddened, “I assume you like it then?”

“You could say that, yeah.” He admitted sheepishly. Dear God, Earth is swell. This week I got a soddin’ hard-on in front o’ an Angel and nearly creamed m’ panties from a sugary delight. Thanks for the bloody heads up. Faithfully yours, the biggest git this side of Heaven.

“See,” Buffy continued, “I know the good stuff!” She finished, finally taking her first bite, making soft yummy noises of her own.

Bet you do kitten. Bet you do.

~~

Andrew slammed his door shut behind himself, flattening his back against the wood; he drew in strained gulps of air. “Q-1 safely back at headquarters,” he panted, bending at the waist he dropped a thick file on the floor, propping himself up by his knees, “mission successful.”

~~

They held hands now. Strolling back to the building at a leisurely pace both desperate for a little more time with one another.

Spike tightened and relaxed his fingers several times, desiring to experience an array of feelings with the little contact his body had with hers.

Buffy allowed her thumb to gently stroke the backside of his hand in small circles, loving the way his eyes closed every now and then from her ministrations.

“Here we are.” She was the first to speak once they arrived at the buildings entrance.

“Here we are.” He repeated. You’re a bloody Casanova you are.

She looked up at him, her lips pulling up into a small smile. “Thanks for going to lunch with me. Well, it wasn’t much of a lunch, seeing as how we just had cake.” Her emerald spheres danced. “Or I should say you had cake… your cake, my cake, plus…how many was it?”

“Oi! One! Plus one. And you were the one who was cheerin’ me on, it was bloody peer pressure what it was.” Spike defended.

Buffy giggled, “Hey I accept no responsibility buster.” She swayed innocently. “However eager I may have been.”

“Yeah. Well don’t be expecting a repeat performance anytime soon pet, already not feelin’ so hot.”

She frowned a little. “Sorry, I hope your Herculean cake devouring doesn’t end up on the side of icky.”

“No worries luv, I wager I’ll be good as new in no time.” He rubbed his stomach.

“Well I’ll be boycotting all cake in the mean time, show ‘em who boss.”

A giggle escaped only to be followed by a weak moan. “Sweet gesture kitten, I appreciate it.”

She chewed on her lip, unsure of what to say. “Well, uh, see you soon I’m sure.”

“Course pet.” He replied.

“Well bye.” She started into the apartment.

“Wait.”

She turned back, surprised to find him directly behind her. She nearly bumped flush against him upon turning around. “Y-yes.” She stammered.

“It’s jus’,” he all but whispered. Leaning into her his hand came up to caress her face.

Her lids fluttered shut, lips parted, eager for what was to come. Her heart thudded against her ribcage, blood rushing to the surface of her face, straining towards his advancing form.

“Got it.”

What?

Buffy’s eyes popped open, glistening with desire, wide with confusion. “Huh?”

“You had a little crumb on your face pet. No worries, took care o’ it.” He smiled, completely clueless as to what just occurred.

“Crumb?” she ignited with embarrassment. “Thanks.” She squeaked out before pivoting, sprinting off into the building.

Huh? “Something I said then?” he questioned to no one, shaking his head.

Bloody women.

~



*A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed... and dont worry we are awfully close to the snogging lol. Have to get through day one is all. Please please please let me know what you think... your reviews are what make worth while!!*

Chapter 8: I’ll See You in My Dreams

Exhaustion- great fatigue or weariness. The condition of being used up; complete consumption.




Spike returned to his flat, weary and sore after that afternoon’s encounters. Nudging the door closed with a gentle shove of his shoulder, both arms caressed his churning abdomen. Never eatin’ another bloody thing long as I live. He paused. Well, maybe one last piece of that cake before I go. His angry stomach protested loudly. Maybe not.

“You don’t look so hot dumplin’.” Ulysses offered, appearing suddenly on the couch, startling Spike. “Tsk tsk. Now what have you done?”

He recovered quickly, becoming increasingly used to his guardian’s magic act, only to groan in pain the very next moment. “Cake,” he grunted, “ate too bloody much.”

“Devil thy name is chocolate eh?” The Angel’s greying curls bounced as giggles rolled off him.

Spike folded his arms like a sullen child. “You’re the Devil,” he whined.

“Hardly. Now, how did things go with Miss Summers my pained prince?” He waited expectantly.

Spike made his way over to where his friend was resting; taking extreme care he curled up like a tired kitten beside him. “Fine. Good.” His voice was strained and tired. “’Sides the marathon eatin’ that is. Oh. That and I apparently am lackin’ in the way o’ class. Stopped the girl to wipe ‘way a tiny lil’ crumb and she went off her bloody rocker. Ran from me and everythin’.”

This perked Ulysses attention. “Ran from you? What’d you do you barbarian, tell her she looked like a pig?”

He snorted in defiance. “Hardly, “ he mimicked his accuser, “jus’ told the chit to wait a moment, leaned in real low like, took my hand and brushed the morsal off her lip and it was done. Seemed all right to me, soddin’ girl even closed her bloody eyes, held her breath, opened her mouth a bit too like she-” his eyes slammed shut in realization, “oh for the LOVE of everything HOLY!”

Ulysses erupted with laughter. “Oh be still my beating heart you are a ladies man aren’t you?”

“Oi! Not like I’ve had any practice ‘right mate!” Spike seethed.

“Oh,” he wiped the tears from his eyes, still fighting them back, “poor girl, thought she was getting prince charming, but instead got stuck with one of the dwarfs.”

“Hey! I’m no dwarf! You take that back right this very minute you-”

“Oh! I don’t know about that. I’d say you could pass for several… there’s Bashful, Grumpy of course, and I’d say you’re doing a pretty stellar job of capturing Dopey at the moment.” He pulled back his lips into a gleaming smile.

“Oh you’re hilarious! Really, I’m all aflutter on the inside.” Spike recoiled bitterly, sinking deeper into the sofa.

Ulysses rolled his eyes. “Got no sense of humour.”

Spike adjusted himself on the cushions, letting his eyes lull closed, exhaustion suddenly winning over. “Got no sense of anything remember?” he muttered softly.

“Have I ever told you, you err on the side of the melodramatic? Not that it bothers me, mind you. You are definitely entertaining, a laugh a minute. And for what it’s worth Spikey boy, I think you are doing a wonderful job for you’re first day. Can you believe that? Only been a human for a handful of hours. Well, probably seems like a lifetime to you, this being your first time even breathing, let alone walking and talking and- Spike?” Ulysses stopped abruptly, poking the blond beside him.

Nothing.

“Spikey?”

A soft snore began to seep from the sleeping beauty.

The Angel rose then, swiftly venturing towards the closet near the bathroom he retrieved a blanket from the shelves. Hastily making his way back to the slumbering man, Ulysses gently covered him, careful not to make him stir.

“And he sleeps.” He whispered.

~~

Buffy released the breath she’d kept trapped within her chest relinquishing a defeated, “Nah.” Now alone, safe within the confines of her and Giles’ office, she let her head drop back against the door with a loud thwack. Way to go Buffy. She chided. I’m sure running for the door makes all the boys go ‘Ooooooo’. She pushed off from the thick mahogany, strolling over to take a seat at the ancient desk in the center of the room. Way too act like a mature adult. I’m sure Spike is kicking himself for even going out with you right about now. So what if he didn’t kiss you?

Frustrated, she snatched the phone from its cradle, punching in the familiar numbers.

“Hello, Magic Box, how may I service you?” the chipper voice asked.

“You know that sounds dirty right Will?” Buffy replied glibly.

Willow giggled, “Hush up missy! It’s not my fault your mind is always in the gutter!”

Her mood lightened immediately, taking in a healthy dose of exactly what she needed she continued. “Me? You’re mind is totally in the gutter! Seriously, if there was a town called Guttersville you’d be like the mayor!” she teased.

She gasped mockingly at her friend’s accusation. “I’ll have you know that I haven’t had a single naughty thought all day! Shows you!”

It was Buffy’s turn to giggle. “So Tara’s not there today huh?”

“Hey! I’m not so easily predictable!”

“Will.”

“Ok no. But I’ve been really good lately anyhow. You know, all subtle and coy, very mysterious. You’d be proud!”

“I’m sure I would,” she commended. “So how’s business? Woo anymore rebellious teens into the world of Wicca?”

The redhead smiled into the phone. “A few. How about you? Anyone dish-worthy move in?”

Buffy paled. “U-uh- um- I- there’sonenewguy.” She ran the words together frantically.

“Was that English Buffy?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really? Care to elaborate? Like in full sentences perhaps? One’s with pauses and breathing.”

Buffy glared, “I said there’s one. new. guy.”

Willow smirked knowingly. “Oh? And this new guy… what’s he like?”

Letting out a long sigh she smiled despite herself. “You know… built like a Greek god, perfect mixture of sugar and spice, face of an angel… the usual.”

“Earth to crazy Buffy there is nothing usual about that!” she nearly choked. “But wait? Isn’t sugar and spice what little girls are supposed to be made of?”

“Huh? Whatever,” she shrugged before continuing, “and did I mention he’s British.”

“And you’ve left him alone?” she teased.

“Oh come on Will! You know, relationships and Buffy, not so mixy.”

“That’s just because you’ve been out of the game too long! It’s time to get back on the horse little lady!” she argued, “And I’m thinking this horse- is going be an English Thoroughbred.”

Buffy burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. “Ewww! Willow! You are such a hussy!”

“Hussy shmussy. You know I’m right! It’s not exactly every day that you find a guy you actually like. I hate to break it to you, but you’re kinda picky.”

“Am not! I’m just selective.”

“Buffy that’s the same thing.”

“Oh.”

“Take advice from your best friend and go for it! I mean, come on, he sounded absolutely divine.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “he’s pretty-” she paused, “well… pretty.”

“That settles it then. Buffy Summers will ride again!”

“Willow! Please!” she chastised, blushing.

“What?” she questioned innocently, “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know exactly what you’re saying that’s the problem.”

“It won’t be that bad Buffy,” she soothed, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’m thinking death and dismemberment, “ the blond scoffed.

Willow raised a sceptical brow. “From dating?”

“I think you seriously overestimate my abilities here Will,” she warned.

“That’s enough of that!” she interjected, “I’m putting my foot down and you know what that means?”

“Resolve face.” Buffy sighed, beaten.

“That’s right! And no. more. sass!”

“Know what Will? You’ve really gotten bossy,” she joked.

“Well someone has to.”

“Fascist.”

“Brat.”

Buffy shook her head. “I’ll talk to you later,” she let out a soft giggle, “goodbye Mein Fuhrer.”

“Auf Wiedersehen.”

~~

Giles leaned over the open mouth of the transports trunk, tugging roughly he dislodged both weathered suitcases from it’s grasp.

Slamming it closed he addressed the driver. “I don’t quite know what to say,” he started, “It was a unique experience to say the least. I don’t believe I’ve ever made it from the airport to my building in under 30 minutes before.”

“No problem gramps.” The young man replied.

Giles gasped, “I am no such thing! We could be brothers for heaven’s sake!”

“You keep telling yourself that buddy, “ he retorted, speeding away, leaving Giles alone in the dark street.

“Hooligan.” He tsk’d to himself.

Making his way through the first floor towards the lift at the far end, he came to an abrupt stop in front of his office. Noticing a soft glow escaping from below the door he set his luggage down, readying himself for an investigation. Twisting the knob slowly he sucked in a sharp anticipatory breath, only to let out a sigh of relief when his gaze settled upon a sleeping Buffy.

Curled tightly into the desk chair she looked supremely peaceful as she slumbered.

Giles crept over, halting just beside her. “Buffy?” he asked, poking her once gently on the shoulder.

Her body responded, head lulling back even farther, a steady snore filling the small space.

“Oh dear lord,” he proclaimed, snatching the spectacles from his face. “Buffy!” he repeated more aggressively, swiftly flicking on the desk lamp.

“Huh? Wha-Mom?” she questioned groggily, still somewhat unaware.

Giles’ complexion darkened into deep rouge. Clearing his throat, ignoring her slip, he replied, “It’s me Buffy. I’m home.”

Her sleepy stare rested on the man beside her. “Giles.” She smiled sweetly up at him.

He patted her nearest hand, returning her smile. His brow knitted together a moment later. “Don’t tell me you were waiting up for me? Really Buffy, there is absolutely no need to go to such great lengths to-”

“Breathe Giles!” she interrupted. “You have seriously got to learn to chill. I wasn’t waiting in here for you, creepy much!” He returned the glasses he’d been holding to his face, frowning at her assertion. “I must have dozed off this afternoon after talking to Willow. I haven’t exactly been sleeping well since you left, guess it caught up with me,” she admitted shyly.

His eyes softened with her confession. “I see. Well in that case it’s a small blessing that I happened by then.” He ruffled her hair. “Now off to bed with you my dear. No sense sleeping in a chair when you have a perfectly good mattress awaiting you.” He shooed her up and out the door.

Before disappearing completely she froze, turning back to him. “Giles?”

“Hmm? Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re back.”

His cheeks stained once again as he smiled fondly. “Yes, well it’s good to be back.”

She returned his affection and smile. “Night.”

“Goodnight.”

~~

“Wake. Up!”

Thump-Thump-Thump

Spike jolted up from the couch with a strangled “AH!” falling to the floor with a crack.

“Huh? Wha’? OW!” he panted in confusion and pain.

Thump-Thump-Thump

“HEL-LO?”

The now seriously brassed off blond jumped up from the ground, clawing the hardwood as he rose. Nostrils flaring, jaw clenching he stormed towards the intruding presence.

“What?” he roared, nearly ripping the door off its hinges.

“Eep!” the terrified mewl was all Andrew got out upon being faced with the seething Brit.

Spike raised a brow, still furious. “Well?”

“Uh-I-uh- have something for you?” he barely articulated.

Anger not abating Spike looked down at the file clutched firmly in his infiltrator's shaking hands. “Yeah? What?” he sneered.

“Uh-it’s-uh- information on Buffy, see I-”

“Come in.” ‘Buffy’ was all the convincing he needed, being so rudely woken up swiftly forgotten.

Andrew blew out a long breath; visibly relaxing he crossed the threshold. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday?” he noticed.

“Huh?”

“Your clothes. You wore them yesterday. I know because I remember thinking that you looked like a handsome rogue assassin.” His eyes danced.

Spike only blinked.

Andrew shifted uneasily under the scrutinizing gaze. “You know,” he tried, “cause of the all black. Very ‘lone gunman’.”

“Right. Did you say you had somethin’?” he changed the subject.

“Oh. Yeah!” he bounced, “I gathered some intelligence on our lady Buffy, as promised, and am ready when you are for the debriefing.”

Spike sat silently on the couch, folding his arms across his chest, thinking for a moment. Finally seemingly coming to a conclusion he spoke, “Go on then.”

Andrew bubbled over with excitement. “Where to begin? Ah! The lady in question… one Summers, Buffy. Born 1/23/1984 in Los Angeles, California. Eyes- green, weight- 114lbs. Pervious address 1630 Revello Drive Sunnydale, California. Left handed, also… she’s an organ donor!”

He stared wide-eyed. “Says all that in there?”

“Yeah! Well, there was a copy of her driver’s licence. I know her social security number too if you’d-”

“WHA-NO!” he flew out of his seat, hands in the air. “What kind o’ information gatherin’ you do mate?”

Andrew’s face burned in shame. “I-uh- might have snuck into the manager’s office and borrowed her resident file,” he admitted sorrowfully.

Spike’s orbs bulged from his head now. “You did WHAT!” he wailed, “I may fancy the chit but I’d rather not go to prison for the rest of m’ bloody life if it’s all the same to you!”

“I only did it to help you.” The boy hung his head pathetically.

“That right? Well, while you were off playin’ ‘secret agent men’ you were also committin’ a bleedin’ felony! Several I’d venture to say!” He sucked in large gulps of air.

“So, I guess that means you don’t want to know what I found then?”

“Ehhh,” he moaned disgustedly, “you’re sick you know that. I mean it’s a real problem you got. A room with bars might not be such a bad-”

“She lost everything when her mom died!” He cried frantically.

“I’m NOT LIS- Wait? What?” Spike froze, again anger and felony suddenly things of the past.

“Buffy,” he began carefully, “I knew she didn’t have any real family left, just Giles and all of us here. Seemed like there was more to it so I coped her file so I could do some digging,” he looked down, embarrassed. “She never talks about her personal life, too painful. Sad story, really, like young Luke Skywalker after-”

“To the point Obe-wan.” He bit out, his frustration on the rise.

“Oh! Well, since she’s such a tight lipped lucy I took the file, like I said, and forgetting for the moment that I may now be headed to the big house due to my dance on the dark side I did crack into the heart of our Miss Summers.”

“That right?”

“Yes! You’d be amazed what you can find out about a person if you have their renter history and tax information!” he nodded.

“Remindin’ me of your ‘dance’ was it, not exactly helpin’ your cause Nancy Drew.” Spike chided.

“Right! Well… turns out before Buffy’s mom di-”

“AHH!” Spike shrieked loudly, cutting the boy off abruptly. Spinning around towards what had startled him he soon was face to face with a very unhappy Ulysses. He gave a warning glare; quickly turning back to the now frightened and worried Andrew. “Sorry mate thought I felt a bug.” He offered, choosing to appear weak rather then insane.

“Oh.” He replied meekly, still breathing heavily from the scream. “I hate bugs.”

Ulysses moved around the couch and in between the two men.

“Yeah. Pesky lil’ buggers they are.” He growled, his irritation aimed at the Angel.

“I am only going to warn you once you stupid man-childe!” Ulysses was fuming. “Going behind a girls back, one that it is your duty to help,” he took a steadying breath reigning in his disapproval a bit, “may not be the slickest move here ace!”

“Well I didn’ ask for your input now did I?” Spike snapped back.

“Uh, actually you did.” Andrew replied softly.

Spike eyes widened. “Uh-right. Continue then.”

“Swell cover smooth operator.” Ulysses stepped closer to his charge. “But I think it’s best if Buffy tell you about her past Spike, not Fisher-Price Fun-With-Felonies over here.”

He stared back at him, remembering not to reply.

“So, like I was saying, before Buffy’s mom-”

“Oi! Hold on a tick there mate.” Spike never broke his gaze with Ulysses, pausing for a long moment. “I’ve changed m’ mind.” He finally continued. “Or more like reverted to m’ original mindset and that’s that this is borderin’ on stalkin’ with a side o’ creepy.”

Andrew’s face fell. Ulysses smirked triumphantly.

“Eh! Now don’t go getting’ your panties in a twist,” he said, speaking to both men, “Not sayin’ that ‘cause o’ you. Jus’ think I’m more then capable o’ getting’ to know the chit without covert ops.” He eyed Ulysses, “or a babysitter.”

“Does that mean you’re going to ask her out?” Andrew squealed.

“Suppose it does.”

“Hey, hey, hey now lets not get ahead of ourselves love monkey! I didn’t mean for you to jump in like that. I think it would be better to be friends with Miss Summers. A romantic relationship is a tricky thing and I’m not sure it’s the best way to garner her trust not to mention-”

“Beggars can’t be choosers Lyss.” He cut in.

“Huh?” Andrew asked, temporarily ceasing his celebratory bouncing.

“Nothin’ boy. Look thanks for the effort there. Really. But I think I got it from here on out. Don’t really fancy a matchmaker… so how ‘bout friends?” he stuck his hand out.

Andrew’s eyes welled with unshed tears. Scooping up Spike’s offered hand he gushed, “best friends!”

Spike sighed. “Whatever mate, jus’ go put the file back where it belongs, keep your mouth shut ‘bout it and I’ll be your best bloody anythin’.”

The boy’s eyes bugged from his skull as he quivered with excitement.

“Anythin’ within reason o’ course.” He quickly interjected.

“Of course.” He repeated.

“Now get.” Spiked shooed.

With that Andrew hurried away, chirping with delight.

“Was it Buffy you were planing on asking out or Robin the Boy Wonder there? I’m confused.”

Spike snapped his head back over to his aggravating partner, pulsating with unchecked rage. “You are this close.” He threatened.

“Still not scared. And still not sure dating Buffy is-”

“You will be.” He said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“Scared and sure. You will be.” Spike re-iterated cockily.

“Yeah? I actually hope you’re right Spike, for your sake.”

“Haven’t been wrong yet.”

“You’ve been alive for 24 hours.”

“Doesn’t have a bloody thing to do with me being right.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You’re unreasonable.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“You really plan on courting Miss Summers?”

“Yup.”

“May God help you.”

~



*A/N: Day one over lol! I know this chapter lacked Spuffy-lovin' but this fic needs some set up... but I promise from here on out the fic is riddled with delicious Spuffy moments. Hope everyone enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts. I always appreciate anyone's opinion. Reviews are love! *g**

p.s: the AMAZING Midnite_Holic made me a lil' prezzie! The most gorgerous manip inspired by my fic *dies* She's converting it to a fic banner at my request *thanks her again* as we speak and it should be up on this fic by the next update for all to see!

Chapter 9: Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

Awe- a mixed emotion of reverence, respect, dread, and wonder inspired by authority, genius, great beauty, sublimity, or might.




Spike hovered there, like a lost child on the first day at a new school, unsteady and unsure. He wiped his palms on his blue jeans for the sixteenth time, unable to make them cease their perspiring. He centred himself again and again after each dizzying spell of panic. “I don’t think asking her out is such a good idea Spike!” He said… “Oh pish-posh you poncy angel I know exactly what I’m bloody doing!” He played the argument over in his head, now somewhat doubtful of his abilities and method.

One more time Spike- His plan had been on auto-replay in his mind since he had come to a screeching halt in front of Buffy’s door some 20 minutes ago. First you knock. He made no attempt to move. Right. Then she comes to the door. He forced out an uneasy breath. She smiles. You say somethin’ dashin’ and clever, she swoons, naturally. You ask the girl out again, she heartily accepts. Music rises, curtain closes. The. Bloody. End. He dried his palms again. Right. One more time-

“Spike?” The questioning voice tore through the noisy static in his brain.

“Huh?” Flipping around his eyes darted over to the assailant. “Buffy?” His expression instantly ticked to one of sheer horror. “What are you doing here?”

Both hands came to rest on her hips. “You’re asking me that question? See I live here Spike,” she answered pointing at the entrance he was blocking. “Now you on the other hand, could offer an explanation as to why you’re standing in the middle of a hallway, staring at my door in the middle of the day.”

“I got my phone hooked up!” he squeaked nervously, remembering the ingenious plot he had uncovered had he needed a reason for showing up.

“Good for you?” She wasn’t following him around the bend.

“M-my number,” he started, stuttering, “said I’d get it too you soon as I got it taken care of.”

Buffy’s head tilted to the side. Boy is he ever cute when he’s nervous. She wetted her lips, watching as he began to fidget uncomfortably before her. Nervous may be a bit of an understatement. No wonder it took him almost three days to come by.

She decided to end his misery. “Thanks,” she accepted. “It’s probably a good, that way I don’t have to show up unannounced, catching you off-guard.” She smirked, “not that seeing you in your boxers and catching you in the arms of a man weren’t riveting experiences. They were, ranked very high on the gossip scale. In fact I’m sending out a building news letter just to share-”

“Oi!”

Apparently she hadn’t decided to end his misery so much as add to it. Serves him right for taking three days.

“You’re really set on handin’ ‘em to a bloke aren’t you!” Spike scolded her. “And to think, I went out o’ m’ way as a courtesy to you!”

“Hey now, no need to get all cranky. I was only kidding. You are familiar with that right? It’s where one person gives the other person a hard time when in reality they don’t actually mean what they say.” Buffy locked her arms together across her upper abdomen.

The quick thrust of her cleavage caught him off guard more than her words. “U-uh, course, sorry luv.” Mmm nummy treat.

His voracious stare unsettled her, shattering her facade. “I-it’s ok,” she couldn’t look at him any longer, “and thanks, really.”

“For what pet?” Spike kept his eyes shamelessly glued to her bosom.

“Um, you were going to give me your number right?”

Her words sunk in. “Oh. OH. Right.” He reached deep into his front pock, hand sliding down beside his bulge.

It was her turn to ogle. Hello there.

“It’s all yours.”

I wish. Wait? “Huh?” her gaze snapped back up to meet his.

He smirked wildly, his confidence crashing back upon him. “You heard me kitten.” He wagged the piece of paper in front of her face. “It’s. All. Yours.” He winked.

Like a kid, hand caught in the cookie jar, she paled, only to turn a rich scarlet the next moment. “Thanks.” She peeped, snatching the scrap from him.

What a naughty kitty. “Anytime Goldilocks,” he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, tasting, “really, what’s mine is yours.”

“Uh-,” it turned into a nervous giggle. She broke his stare again, incapable of simple speech.

Spike had her exactly where he wanted her, more than pleased, he went in for the kill. “Was thinkin’ pet,” he slipped one lone finger softly beneath her chin, lifting it up until her eyes had no choice but to settle upon him once more, “had such a bloody brilliant time with you before… thought we’d do it again, “ he purred, “if you’d like that is?”

“Like? Mmm hmm.” It was the best she had. Buffy like.

Halleluiah. He pushed his lips out approvingly, hiding his relief. “So… have any thin’ in mind you’ve jus’ been dyin’ to do luv?” he smirked, “ladies choice.”

“U-um,” Buffy scrunched her eyes closed, trying desperately to fend off his seduction, “actually,” she countered, mind soaring as she regained control, “there is this one place that I have been trying to get to for weeks.”

“Really? And where would that be exactly?” The sudden far off look in her eyes unnerved him. Careful mate you’re losin’ the upper hand here.

She rocked innocently, a sweet smile playing. “You’ll see.” And Buffy comes back strong. She let a tiny giggle escape.

Ladies choice? Well played you soddin’ prat! “Don’ much care for surprises princess,” he admitted worriedly, “last time I was… um,” he cleared his throat, “surprised I kinda took a fall you might say,” he snorted. Innit that the understatement o’ the bloody year.

Buffy grinned cutely. “Awww did Spikey get a boo-boo?” she teased. “Well it’s not the jump out and startle you kinda surprise, so you don’t have to worry. Plus,” she continued, voice taking on a lower, huskier tone, “I won’t let you go, then there won’t even be the tiniest possibility of falling. Deal?”

Oh I don’t know ‘bout that sweets. “D-deal.”

“Great! I’ll just change into more sensible shoes and we-”

“We’re goin’ now?” he questioned, fear welling up. Definitely lost the upper hand you git, girls a vixen.


“That’s ok isn’t it?” she asked, insecurity creeping into her voice.

No it’s not OK! Took me three soddin’ days to figure out how to walk down here and ask you out! Need at least a bloody month to be ready for whatever secret rendezvous you got in store! “Course luv.” Well played.

Buffy reached out, sighing in relief she scooped up his hand and squeezed. “You won’t regret it. Promise.”

Spike’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “I’m sure I won’t.”

“Ok then,” she said forcing past him to enter her apartment, “I’ll only be a second, just have to change my shoes and grab my car keys.”

“Car keys?” he processed out loud.

“Yeah. I’ll drive!”

Right. Drive. This should be fun.

~~

“Spike! SPIKE!” Buffy shoved him hard on the shoulder. “You can open your eyes now geez!” she scoffed. Big baby!

The quivering Brit parted one terrified lid, peeking out to ascertain whether or not the coast was clear. Seeing nothing but stillness through the car windows her relaxed, easing out of his hunched position. “Right.” He panted.

“My god you’d think you’d never driven in a car before! Seriously, I know the roads out here are a bit narrow and kinda windy but it’s not that bad!”

He paled, her using the words ‘god’ and ‘never before’ in the same sentence had him reeling for an excuse. “I- uh- I,” he stammered, “got a bit o’ motion sickness is all.”

She glared. “And see, if you had looked sick, I’d believe you. But since clawing at the door handle and screaming ‘Jesus Christ devil woman slow down’ aren’t signs of nausea, I don’t.” She folded her arms.

Fuck. “I said that?”

She just nodded her head.

Only one way out o’ this. You can pick up the pieces later mate. “Well,” he started, “sorry to break it to you kitten but you're a bloody awful driver.”

Buffy gasped. “Hey! I am not! I mean sure I’ve been known to get a few speeding tickets now and then, and yeah there were those two wrecks in ’07, but there were major extenuating circumstances. And you know what, it takes a lot of people nine times to pass that test!”

Spike blinked once. In shock partly from the fact that his plan had worked, attention affectively deflected from his ridiculous reaction, and partly from the realisation that he had not been ridiculous at all. Bint nearly killed me! “Right pet, sounds like you’ll be gettin’ that safe driver discount on your insurance any day now.” She scowled at him. “Hey, now no need to make faces, let’s just make a deal. You keep her under 90 and inside the pretty painted lines on the way back… and I’ll ease up on the screamin’ like a lil’ girl. ‘Right?”

She blushed slightly. “Yeah, ok, deal.” Fabulous start to the evening Buffy, nearly kill your date, rendering him completely terrified- check. I told Willow dating would only lead to death and dismemberment!

“Ohhh.” The breathy acclimation stilled Buffy’s thoughts.

She glanced over towards Spike, mouth twisting into a perfect grin upon seeing him rendered speechless at the scene before them. “Pretty great huh?”

He nodded in agreement, but barely. Frozen in place he tried to absorb every bit of the sight. The sun, just beginning it’s decent, was turning the sky into a swirling amalgamation of pinks and oranges. The rolling and crashing of the ocean waves brought the sea to life as it reflected light, sparkling. The powdery sand, bridging the gap between them and the waters edge, rose and fell in little hills and ripples, like a rumpled satin sheet.

“Come on,” she snapped him out of his trance, placing a hand on his shoulder, “it gets better.”

Spike followed her as she swiftly exited the car, coming around meeting her in front. He watched with fascination as she began removing the sandals she had put on for their trip.

Noticing his perplexed expression she spoke, “its way better barefoot, come on, you’ll see.” She urged him to do the same.

He eagerly obeyed, hungry for anything more she offered or promised. Fumbling with the black boots he wore he tripped, falling into the sand with an strained, “Umph.”

Buffy giggled, “Here, let me help, you big oaf!” She knelt down, wasting no time, she went straight to work untying and yanking his feet free from their leather prison. “Should have had you change your shoes too.” She added with one last grunt of effort.

“Sorry luv.” He apologized.

“Don’t be, I was the one who wouldn’t tell you where we were going.” She stood extending a hand out to help him up. “Hope you’re not disappointed.”

Accepting the gesture he righted himself quickly. “Definitely not pet.”

She beamed. “Well then, lets go.” She snatched up his closest hand and started off for the water, tugging him along.

~~

“So what is it that you do?” Buffy broke the long span of silence they had been enjoying, now desperate to know about the man beside her. They had sat down near the tides highest breaking point, and had been taking in their surroundings. The way the water lapped at the coastline, never quite making it all the way too them, but trying. The way the sunset danced off the liquid like diamonds. He had never taken his eyes from it, and she had never taken her eyes from him.

“Huh? Who me?” Spike reluctantly tore his eyes from the landscape.

“Yes you silly.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “I don’t know almost anything about you, I’m curious.” Curious to know what government facility you came from Mr. Perfect. Cause if you’re asking me, I’m betting genetically engineered at this point.

“Curious eh?” He hid his rising nerves under a cool exterior. “Well kitten, I’m fairly certain it was curiosity that killed the cat.” He teased, winking.

Buffy scrunched up her face. “I’m serious!” she swatted him.

“Ok, ‘right. I’ll play nice!” he thought for a moment, calling forth his fake memories, “I’m a writer if you must know.” Jus’ one that’s never actually written a bloody thing, no worries though I’m sure I’m a natural.

Her eyes gleamed. “Oh! What do you write?”

“A bit o’ everythin’ really. Wrote for a few papers in London ‘fore I left. But have always focused more on poetry and children’s books.” His face flushed. You have got to be kiddin’ me right now. Poetry? Kiddie books? Why not hang a sign ‘round m’ neck that says ‘I’m a Nancy boy ask me how’? Couldn’t have made me a bass player or somethin’?

“You write poetry?” she said sceptically, waiting for him to shake his head in confirmation, “and children’s books?” she continued. “The one’s for children, small people, about yay big.”

“Oi! Quit takin’ the piss!” he warned. “I’ll have you know princess that I bloody well adore the lil’ nibblets!” And he did, they had always been his favourite souls to be near.

She just smiled dreamily, despite his temper. “You really are perfect.” She said, her mouth missing its filter, exactly what she was thinking spilling out.

He had been about to add something to his tirade, but paused at her words. “What was that luv?”

Buffy’s cheeks burned red, horror striking her features. “I- uh- said you are perfect… for writing, yeah.” She tried. “Your witty, very well spoken and you know… pale,” she was grasping for anything, “suits you.” She hid her face as she finished, completely devastated.

He snorted. “Is that so? So we’re a witty, well spoken… pale bunch now are we?”

“Yes?” she answered, unsure. Please drop it, please drop it.

“‘Right.” He smiled knowingly.

Thank God he let that go! “So,” she blew out a long breath, “you came out here all alone then? Did you leave a lot of family back in London?”

Spike looked away, suddenly panicked and a bit nauseated. Just as his head began to reel, implanted confessions of relatives long since passed whirling around, making him dizzy, a miracle occurred.

The rain hit in a flash, crashing down in a fury.

“EEP!” Buffy shrieked, springing up in an instant, immediately sprinting for the safety and shelter of the car.

She ran, hands pulling her jacket up over her head, little high-pitched sounds of disapproval echoing into the torrent. She glanced back, expecting to see Spike hot on her tail. Seeing nothing she froze. Spinning around she searched for him. Her eyes quickly landed on the man in question. There he sat, never having moved, head tossed back in ecstasy, hands out catching the rain as it soaked his shivering form. For a moment she starred in awe. There, in the rain, letting it wash over him like a child, he was truly beautiful.

A chill ran up her spine, breaking her revelry. “SPIKE!” she screamed for him.

He spun around in his place, straining to look at her, seemingly surprised she was so far away.

“Come ON!” she called.

She watched him rise then, picking up a steady jog he was at her side in a moment.

“Sorry luv,” now thoroughly soaked he licked the water off his lips with each words, batting the droplets off his lashes. “Didn’t mean for you to get all wet.”

She blushed. “It’s fine, let’s just get to the car quick ok.”

“Ok.” He smiled that wicked smile then, but before she could protest he bent down, leaning in low she was thrown over his shoulder in a flash.

“Hey! Stop! What are you doing Spike?” she whined, but couldn’t help her smile.

“I’m faster pet.” And with that he took off, full sprint towards their waiting vehicle.

~




*A/N: Hope everyone liked! The amazing fic banner was made by the wonderful and fabulous Midnite_Holic! Please, please please tell me what you think! Reviews are LOVE! *hugs**

Chapter 10: Heat of the Moment

Lust- a yearning to gratify the senses; bodily appetite. Excessive sexual desire, seeking unrestrained gratification.



Spike slid her down his body, righting her once more. “There you are luv,” he purred, setting her beside the car.

“Thanks,” she whispered, already inserting the key into the lock.

His body pressed firmly against her back then, warm and soft, he shielded her from the rain.

Buffy paused for a moment, temporarily paralysed from the feel of his lower half melding perfectly to hers, their sopping jeans scrapping together roughly.

“Gonna let me inside pet?” he asked, voice raspy and low.

Yes, yes, yes, OH yes! “Yes,” she mewled, hands splaying out on the vehicles frame.

The sight of her, soaked through, arms outstretched, hair tangled, made him moan involuntarily. Bloody fucking hell. Regaining his composure he managed, “Then you best open the door luv.”

Huh? Oh right! “Yeah, of course,” she replied, blushing into the palm of her hand. She yanked the door free, dipping inside quickly. Leaning over she popped the passenger door unlocked.

“Thanks kitten,” he said a moment later, shutting the door with a loud crack, tossing their shoes he’d gathered into the back.

“Yeah,” Buffy mumbled, voice still shaky from their pervious encounter. Looking away she stripped off her dripping jacket.

Spike’s eyes zeroed in on the delicate lace trim of her blouse, which clung to her cleavage, damp from where her coat had not protected her from the elements.

Her cheeks flamed from the intensity of his gaze; unable to hold it she shied away.

The sight was too inviting, his hands moved of their own accord, drawn to the soaked blond strands now hugging her collarbone. Leaning in close, sucking in the thick electric air between them, his fingertips ghosted over the moistened skin brushing her hair back gently.

“Spike.” The heady whisper was full of want.

He answered it. Swallowing the remaining distance he was on her in a flash, lips meeting lips.

It was softer then she had expected, more restrained and deliberate then she was used to. The feel of him hovering there, his lips slowly melting into hers so sweetly made her insane with desire.

Her entire body tingling, coming alive at his touch, caused her to ache, made the sensation of his kiss almost unbearable. Needing more she parted her swollen lips just barely, ducking her tongue out she stole a quick taste of his bottom lip.

He moaned, deep and needy.

It set her off. Letting go completely, inhibitions long forgotten, her arms immediately struck out, curling around his neck. She drew him down, sucking that plump flesh into her waiting mouth she bit down, crushing herself into him.

Overcome by the feeling of her taking control, of wanting him so desperately, he squealed. Covering it up with another guttural moan the very next moment he answered her aggression eagerly. Taking her face in his hands he pulled her closer, hungry for more contact, more of her. Tongue sliding from his mouth he licked playfully at her.

They challenged each other like that, dominance swinging from one to the other, both lost in the heat of the moment.

Finally they broke apart, absolutely starved for oxygen.

“Fuck,” Spike panted, eyes unfocused, mouth reddened and raw, “Taste like a bloody dream you do.”

“Mmm.” He was already feathering light kisses along her jaw line by the time she made an attempt to reply. “Don’t stop.”

Spike nearly choked hearing her plea, doubling his ministrations the next beat. “Won’ stop luv, never. Never bloody stop.” His voice took on an air of urgency. “Won’ ever,” he licked up along her neck, “go. Won’ let ‘em”

“Mmm,” the pleasurable exclamation became a questioning, “Hmm?”

“Wha’?” He never slowed, worshiping her flesh with his mouth.

“What…” her voice wasn’t much more then a whisper, “what did you say?”

He nipped at her earlobe then, eliciting a tiny squeak from her. “Said I won’ ever stop kitten, never.” He traced her collarbone with his greedy tongue. “Taste too bloody good, so bloody delicious.”

Buffy’s eyes rolled back, her body betraying her now curious mind. “N-no,” she breathed, “a-after that.”

“Hmm?” His hands caressed her tender skin, sweeping low across her sides, down to her hips.

She jerked and fidgeted under the roaming touch. “B-before, you said,” she tried to pull away, to regain some form of composure, “said,” She repeated, “Spike stop.”

Although her request was still hushed and womanly, traces of desire clear, he stilled instantly. “Pet?”

She trained her eyes on his worried expression. “It’s just,” she began, trying to ease his nerves with a small smile, “before, you, you said, won’t let them.” The dark blue eyes staring back at her widened in shock. “Won’t let who do what Spike?”

You, mate, are royally fucked. “I-I… was kinda in the moment there luv,” he opted for most of the truth, “jus’ mumblin’ ‘bout how nobody or no thing could take me away.” His face softened. “As far as I’m concerned kitten, you’ll have to physically kick my sorry arse to the curb to get rid o’ me.” You, mate, are one fantastic bloody charmer.

Buffy arched a brow, a semi-sceptical expression marring her features. “Alright,” she drew out the word, “but I’m leaning more and more towards the idea that you are some kinda genetically engineered “Mr. Perfect” and that maybe, one of these days the government is gonna want you back.”

He choked, coughing and wheezing in front of her, forgetting for the moment how to actually breathe. Not as charming as you thought, right mate.

“Spike.” She reached out to pat his back, only to have him, startled by the gesture, jerk backwards suddenly, hitting his head on the window with a loud thwack. “SPIKE! My lord! Breathe man!”

He stilled, drawing in a long, much needed, breath through his nose. “S-sorry luv,” his voice was raspy and strained, “s-swallowed down the wrong pipe is all.” He gave his own chest a couple comforting pats.

“Well, try to remember that air goes into the lungs next time ok.” Buffy leaned in closer to him, absentmindedly straightening his now dishevelled and still wet shirt. “And that settle that.”

“Huh? Wha’?” He could barely concentrate with her hands grazing over his shoulders and chest.

“Well, you definitely aren’t from some secret agency or higher power,” He coughed a little again. “I doubt somebody genetically engineered and perfect would be such a complete spaz!”

“Oi!” He tried to protest, but her arms encircled his neck just then, silencing him.

“Don’t worry,” she hummed, lips ever so close to his own. “Perfect is overrated.” She allowed the briefest of kisses, purring from the feel of his breath tickling her flesh as she drew back once more. “But, you’re not much use to me or any special top secret facility dead. So lets work on the spaz thing, just a little k.”

Dead? Jesus fucking Chr-

She was kissing him again. Correction, she was devouring him again. One leg flung carelessly over the center console she was nearly straddling him, arms wrapped haphazardly around his neck, fingers digging into his hair.

-ist.

Spike grabbed her by the hips, instinct taking over. In one fluid motion he lifted he up and into his lap, moaning deeply when she landed squarely on his throbbing erection.

“Uhhn” He groaned out loud when she swivelled her hips. “Easy baby, gonna loose it real quick here if you’re not careful.”

“Mnah.” She answered. “Right, right, too fast.” She leaned back then, peering down at him with hooded eyes.

“N-no no luv, not too fast.” He thought for a second, panting heavily. “Just, well, ok yeah, too fast.”

“You’re right.” She kissed him quickly, only to adjust herself the next moment so she was sitting in his lap innocently, no longer straddling him. “Not like the passenger seat of a car on a first date is my all time sex fantasy.” She snorted.

“Sex?” Spike’s voice was loud and high, surprise obvious. Holy fuck we were gonna have sex?

“Huh? What? You said you were going to loose it? What did you think was happening here?” She looked mortified.

“I-I mean, It was getting intense and as we’ve seen I don’ do real well with intense, tend to sputter and choke like a Nancy boy. That’s all I meant. It never occurred to me to have sex with you in a car!” He was in a daze, honesty flowing from his lips.

“Oh GOD!” She hid her face away, burring it in his chest. “You must think I’m a total ho! Buffy, the driver’s seat of a Honda, whore!”

He laughed. “Now, now kitten, I would never think that.” He petted her hair soothingly. “Technically we’re in the passenger seat.” He teased.

“Hey!” Buffy slapped his shoulder. “Not funny!” she was giggling now.

“Oi! No hittin’ you trollop!”

She smacked him again, harder. “It’s not funny,” she was full out laughing now. “I’m not usually like this!”

“Oh really?” he raised his brow. “What exactly are you usually like when around a devilishly handsome man pet?”

She gathered her breath, quieting her fit. “Oh… lately,” she sighed, “lately I… well I, haven’t been myself. “

Spike’s expression morphed into one of concern. “How so?”

“Haven’t exactly been ‘happy Buffy’ as of late, actually I can’t even remember the last time I laughed before I met you.” The corners of her mouth twisted into a small smile before she rested her head against his chest. “I lost my mom a little while back, it’s been hard you know. I’ve been withdrawn for so long that I guess I just let it all out today.” She looked up at him. “Temporary Buffy insanity won’t happen again.”

“Oh I don’ know pet? I kinda like this insanity,” he nuzzled her neck, “bloody sexy wha’ it is.”

She giggled once more. “Well you will have to settle for something in between. I feel like more myself then I have in ages, but jumping you on the first date was a little overzealous on my part. So don’t go getting your hopes up mister!”

“Hey! I wasn’t the one whose mind went straight down the gutter here luv! Need I remind you I was quite the gentleman?”

“Yeah you were.” She graced his bottom lip with a tiny kiss. “You’re not gay are you?” she mocked seriousness.

“Not bloody likely!” he shouted. “I’ll show you, you little minx!”

She lunged for the driver’s seat, trying desperately to flee, only to be scooped up into punishing arms. “Eep!”

He drew her flush against him. “Might not have been thinkin’ ‘bout goin’ all the way kitten, but I guarantee I was thinkin’ ‘bout horrible, naughty things. I’d be happy to show you exactly what I had in mind,” he sucked on her exposed neck,” if you’d like.”

“Uhhhh.” She breathed. “W-we better g-get back. Don’t want to be driving those roads at night.”

He froze. “Right.” He let go of her immediately. “Safety first.”

Buffy laughed. “You are such a baby!” she chided, crawling back over to her side of the vehicle.

“Am not!” he whined. “Havin’ a strong desire to, I don’ know pet, live, doesn’ exactly make me a bloody baby.”

“No, but you whining like that kinda does.”

“Oi!”

“Just kidding geez! Now hand me my shoes so we can get out of here.” She smiled.

“Your sandals m’ lady.” He winked, handing her the still damp shoes.

She drew her knees up to her chest, fastening the sandals to her sandy feet.

He watched as she fixed herself, brushing mussed hair from her face, buckling her seat belt. He sighed contentedly.

She paused once before twisting the key in the ignition. “Spike?”

“Luv?”

“Thanks.”

“For what pet?”

She blushed. “Well aside from the obvious, thanks for listening.”

His cheeks reddened slightly as well. “No worries Goldilocks. Was m’ pleasure.” He reached out, taking her closest hand from the wheel, kissing it lightly before replacing it.

Her mouth crooked to the side. “Buckle up.”

He wasted no time obeying. Damn right.

She squeezed his leg once before taking off, a broad smile on her face.

Looks like I was right ‘bout datin’ the bird. He smiled to himself. Might not be the best way to gain her trust huh? Looks to me like it was the perfect way to get the girl to open up. Just you wait Lyss, Spike’s comin’ home, and he’s got quite the story to tell.

He raised his arms up, placing his hands comfortable behind his head. “AH!” The sudden swerve of the car sent him grasping for stability. “Watch the bloody road woman!”

“There was a duck.” She offered indignantly.

“Screw the bloody duck! Hit the bloody duck! Jus’ keep it on the road!”

“I will not! It had little duckies!”

“Better them then us!”

“We are fine.”

“Barely.”

“Next time you drive!”

“Fine!” Wait? Fuck.

~




*A/N: Finally another chapter! Hope it was worth the wait! Had to get back in the groove after my vacation, updates should be regular once more! Please let me know what you thought! It's been awhile and I'm dying to know what everyone thinks!*