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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is my first fic, I'm really nervous about what you all will think of it! So please let me know! I know it's incredibly short, but I will be posting chapter 2 later today. Anyway, less babble and on with the story! Enjoy!

I deleted this story and am now puting it back up, I changed a few things and shifted others around.

Thanks to my beta LindaM!!
"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed."
Carl Jung
Swiss psychologist (1875 - 1961)



Buffy sat alone at the table, slowly sipping her drink. She watched her friends dancing happily on the dance floor. So carefree and happy. She wished so could do that. Join them and forget the world around her. Forget about all the things that go bump in the night. Forget about her life that was slowly crumbling around her. But she couldn’t. Couldn’t ever forget. She looked back at her friends before moving slowly up the staircase leading to the balcony over-looking the stage and dance floor.

In the shadows behind her, a tiny red light flared, followed by a stream of smoke. Icy blue eyes taking in the slinky black dress that clung to blonde beauty. He also noticed her bowed head and slumped shoulders. He took a step forward and watched her back stiffen as she sensed his presence.

“Go away Spike,” she whispered, not even turning around.

“Free country, luv,” he murmured, taking a few more steps toward her.

“Fine. I’ll go,” she turned and headed for the stairs.

Spike closed the distance between them in two quick strides. He wrapped his arm around her waist and turned her around so that she was facing him, but she kept her eyes carefully out of his gaze. He placed a cool finger under her chin, pulling her head up and forcing her to look at him.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Spike’s hands on her hips and Buffy’s hands resting gently on his chest, both staring into each other’s eyes, completely silent.

Finally, Buffy let out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding and took a step closer to Spike, closing the gap between them. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed and hugged her tightly to him, as if protecting her from some unseen evil. He placed a kiss into her hair, while gently stroking her lower back. Then she began to cry.

“Sh, luv, it’s okay. I’m here,” he cooed gently.

“Oh God Spike. I... I... oh,” she choked out. She was shaking now.
He had to get her out of here. The music had picked up in tempo and was pounding harshly in the background. Not the best place for an emotional Slayer.

He gently guided her down the stairs and out the back door. She made no attempt to get away or resist, just followed, clinging to his waist and sobbing uncontrollably.



He thanked what ever Power that they managed to make it back to his crypt without running into anything or anyone. He steered her to the lower level of his crypt and into an over-stuffed chair. He then stripped his duster off before moving to his bed and pulling the covers down. Then he lit the few candles that decorated the room, creating a soft glow now illuminating the dark chamber. He walked back over to Buffy’s huddled form and scooped her up into his arms; she immediately settled herself into his cool embrace.

Taking a deep breath, he placed her in his bed, gently removed her heels, and then carefully pulled the thick comforter over her small frame. She curled into a tight ball, still shaking, but no longer crying. He stood there for a moment before turning around, heading for that same chair across the room.


Before he managed to take a step in that direction, a small hand encircled his wrist.

“Stay,” she whispered. “Please.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed before turning to look at her. She was still curled away from him, but she was looking directly at him. Her eyes, pools of the deepest emerald, looked sad, lost, and... lonely?

“Buffy...” He honestly didn’t know what to say. He just looked at her.

“Can you just, hold me? Like before. Please?” She was so quiet; he had barely heard her. But when her request finally sunk in, all he could do was nod. She slowly let go of his wrist, but kept her gaze in his direction as he slowly made his way around to the other side of the bed, divesting himself of his boots and over-shirt along the way.

He crawled onto the bed and lay down on his side next to her, but not too close. She slowly worked her way over to him and curled herself into him, pillowing her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and slowly started to trace soothing patterns on her lower back.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his neck, before slowly slipping into a deep sleep.

“Always, luv. Always,” he murmured, pressed a feathered kiss to her forehead, then he followed her into blissful slumber.



Spike woke due to a sharp pain in his shin.

“What the…?” Another to his chest. Buffy was flailing around wildly.

“Buffy,” he tried to grab her arms, but instead got a punch to the gut. Ignoring the pain, he jumped on her, straddling her waist. Finally pinning her legs down, he managed to secure both tiny wrists in one hand above her head. He took a moment to take in his position, him straddling a sound asleep Buffy. He silently groaned. *Oh yeah, this is much better.*

“Buffy, love, what’s wrong?” He whispered. He gently stroked her cheek, hoping to sooth her still shaking form.

“I… can’t…” she breathed. Still asleep and still trembling under him. *She has GOT to stop doing that!*

“Sh, pet. T’s me. Spike. Tell me what to do. Tell me what’s wrong,” he brushed a few stray hairs off her forehead.

“Spike?” She began to cry.

“Oh pet. Don’t do that. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” Spike started to move off her, when Buffy gasped.

“Don’t leave!” Slowly she opened her eyes. “Please Spike. Don’t leave me. I don’t know what to do,” she closed her eyes again, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m here. Not goin’ anywhere,” Spike slowly released her hands, moving to her side. Buffy continued crying, her tiny body shaking violently.

*Should I touch her? Maybe she won’t want me to. But she said not to leave. Usually she threatens to stake me if I DON’T leave… Fuck.*

Spike reached over and softly touched her shoulder. She calmed a bit. *Okay, touching good then.* He slowly moved his arm down and wrapped it around her waist. She sighed, calming down even more. He leaned in so that their foreheads were touching, just barely. *She hasn’t staked me yet, so maybe this is okay.*

“Everything is wrong,” she whispered so quietly even Spike had a hard time hearing her. But he did. He started to move away, but her hand shot out to his shoulder and held him still.

“You are really stupid sometimes you know that?” She moved her head back far enough so that she could see his eyes, which were looking at her arm.

“Look at me.”

His eyes followed her arm up and finally settled in her eyes. “You always read me so well. Usually that pisses me off. But I want to know. Tonight, what do you see?”

He took a moment to look deeply into her eyes. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he couldn’t read too deeply into those hazel eyes.

“I see, pain. Lots of pain, worry, sorrow, and… anger. But I don’t understand why. I can usually tell…” He left the sentence hanging, hoping she would understand what he meant.

She nodded and broke eye contact. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky. With that, she took his hand from her side, kissed it, got out of his bed and left his crypt.

Spike watched her leave, kept his eyes on the place he last saw her for at least five minutes before closing his eyes. *What’s happened to her? I know it’s got to be hard with her mum gone. But she’s… broken.*



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