Six hours, forty-two minutes and ten seconds.
That was how much time had passed since Spike had been within two feet of ‘Naked Buffy’. Not that he was keeping track.
He spared another glance at her reclining on her bed, thumbing through yet another girly magazine.
Spike opened his mouth for the thousandth time that evening to attempt filling the empty silence, but nothing came out. His overactive imagination kept replaying that moment when he’d touched her collarbone, just above the swell of her perky breasts. And then his overactive imagination proceeded to give him a nice visual of what could have happened…in an alternate universe.
Sighing slightly, his eyes flickered over to Buffy once again. She was attractive, he could admit that. Up until recently, he had mostly just physically found her appealing, but now…it wasn’t just that. He actually liked her! Despite the fact she was annoying and pushy and stubborn all the while plainly pissing him off, he liked her. He enjoyed the challenge of running with her and the way her eyes glittered with triumph when she won or the pout when she lost. Small insignificant details that made his heart jump.
He really was fucked up.
Buffy sighed loudly and threw her magazine on the ground. “Stupid test.”
Spike’s eyebrow rose. “Test?”
Buffy was taken back by the sound of his voice. She shook her head. “Nothing, just something I was reading.”
“Right,” he drawled and returned to his book.
Buffy bit her lip, discretely watching Spike. So far he hadn’t mentioned anything about ‘The Incident’, but really, it was only a matter of time. He’s probably going to tell the whole friggin’ school about it, she thought miserably.
There was a knock on the door and Joyce poked her head in. “Buffy, ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ is on now, wanna watch with me?”
Buffy readily jumped off her bed. “Yep, sure,” she answered quickly, anything to get away from Spike and their awkward silence.
**********
The next morning, or more like early afternoon, Buffy finally woke up. She rubbed her eyes and then spared a blurry glance at the clock to see it was almost 1:00.
She sat upright, blinking. Was the time right? Buffy scrambled out of bed and spotted Spike’s cell phone and flipped it open to see the time was, in fact, exactly right.
Yawning, Buffy set the phone down and stumbled into the bathroom for a quick shower. Ten minutes later, she stepped out, feeling more awake.
Throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank top, she walked out to the porch where her mother was reading a book. At the sight of Buffy, Joyce smiled. “Wow, I thought you might sleep the day away! I went in to wake you, but you looked so peaceful, I thought I’d just let you stay in.”
“Mmmm,” Buffy murmured in consent. “Probably a good idea, I must’ve needed it. I can’t remember the last time I slept past 11:00.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re well rested,” Joyce replied with a little grin. “Rupert and I found this amazing shop just outside of town where the man does glass-blowing. It’s really amazing and I was thinking of showing some of his pieces, want to come take a look with me?”
“Yeah, that sounds cool,” Buffy answered, she still was, after all, avoiding Spike. Plus, glass-blowing was really cool, she conceded.
“Great! His bowls are amazing with thousands of different colors and shapes…you’ll love it. Anyway, I think we’ll leave in about a half-hour, sound good?” Joyce asked, glancing at her watch.
“Sounds good,” Buffy confirmed with a nod. “I’m just gonna get some lunch.”
“There’s still some leftover cold cuts from yesterday and some of that nice bread,” Joyce said thoughtfully as Buffy wandered back into the house.
“Cool, thanks!” She called back and entered the kitchen only to walk straight into Spike.
“Oof,” she mumbled.
“Summers, did anyone ever tell you you’re the biggest bloody klutz?”
“I am not!” she protested.
There was a brief pause, mostly consisting of Buffy glaring at Spike, and then his posture relaxed slightly. “I went running on this new trail, pretty looking but all bloody uphill…I mis-was sorry I couldn’t beat you this morning, would have been a jolly good time.”
Buffy scoffed. “Hello? Haven’t we made it crystal-clear that I so kick your ass every time?” After a second, her lower lip jutted out. “You went running with out me?” For some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.
“Yeah, well, you were doing the Sleeping Beauty thing,” Spike retorted. Especially, the beauty part, he mentally added.
Buffy’s pout became more pronounced and her brow furrowed. “You mean I missed out on the fun of beating you, yet again, because I was…sleeping?” The incredulousness of it stunned her.
“Well you were sleeping like a bloody rock and…your mum said not to wake you,” Spike said defensively.
Ah, Buffy thought, her mom played a role in it. “So, if my mom hadn’t said anything you would have woken me up, right?”
Spike nodded vigorously. “Absolutely, I would have chucked my shoe, dumped water on your head, the whole works.”
“Good.” Buffy replied with a firm nod of her own, and then added, “So…you missed me?”
Spike rolled his eyes. “As much as in it pains me to admit it, you’re not as annoying when we’re running.”
Buffy suppressed a grin at that. Hmmm…maybe this ‘friend’ thing wouldn’t be so bad. Which was all the more reason, she told herself, to resolve ‘The Incident’. “Listen…Spike,” Do it, Summers, “About yesterday…in the lake.”
“Forgotten,” Spike said immediately.
Buffy blinked, surprised by his quick response. She for sure thought he was going to drag it out, make her painfully rehash all the embarrassing details.
“Oh…right, forgotten,” she said in agreement. Then without giving it a second thought she added, “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Spike mumbled slightly. “I’m gonna take a nap, I’m bloody exhausted because I have this roommate who snores like-“
Buffy cut him off with a slug to the shoulder. “I do not snore!”
“Of course not,” Spike replied condescendingly, “It’s just the helicopter outside.”
“Shut up!”
“Great retort, Summers, very fourth-grade of you,” Spike said with a laugh.
“Buffy! We’re leaving!” Joyce words effectively cut through their banter.
“Off you go.” Spike waved towards the direction of the front door.
With a scowl and smidge of a pout firmly in place, Buffy stalked past Spike and out the door. Stupid head, she thought derisively. But a hot stupid head, that annoying little voice added.
“Ugh, shut up!” She mumbled herself as she got into the car.
*********
After spending an hour or so oohing and aahing over the amazing glass sculptures at the man’s workshop, Joyce had finally persuaded him to show a few pieces at her gallery.
Now Buffy was waiting as patiently as she could in the car for her mom and Giles to extract themselves from their favorite bowl. It was very expensive and they were debating whether to buy it or not.
Another ten minutes of this Buffy would buy the damn bowl herself just so they could finally leave. Not that the glass wasn’t cool, it’s just that there was only so long you could actually be entertained by it.
“Um…mom…Giles?” Buffy called out through gritted teeth.
“Oh Buffy, just another minute,” Joyce responded, sound harried.
“Ooh…kay,” she said slowly. “I guess in your world that really means another billion years,” she added under her breath.
Finally after what felt like another hour, Joyce and Giles had decided to buy the bowl and they were on their way back to the beach house.
Buffy reclined in the backseat, resting her eyes. She’d finished her third magazine long ago and her CDs bored her. Whatever, she thought, at least they were actually driving now.
Currently her mom and Giles were still oohing and aahing over the bowl, which Buffy thought was ridiculous since they bought it and were going to see it everyday.
Suddenly the car swerved to the left, lurching Buffy to the side. The tires squealed to a stop off the road.
Giles loudly let out a stream of British curse words while her mother kept asking if everyone was all right.
Buffy swallowed hard, her heart hammering inside her chest at a rapid pace. Flashes of the crash with Angel came back to her and she struggled to breath. Not now, she told herself, she was fine, everyone was fine, it was completely different.
“Buffy! Buffy!”
Her head jerked up to meet her mother’s worry-filled hazel eyes. “Buffy, are you all right?”
She nodded slowly. “I’m f-fine. I mean, I’m not hurt or anything.” She glanced around. “Are you guys okay?”
“We’re fine. I just can’t imagine how this happened,” Joyce exclaimed.
“I’ll tell you what bloody happened! The man nearly bloody killed us all! Drove us off the soddin’ road!” Giles cursed angrily.
Buffy had never seen Giles look so agitated or mad; he was always so calm.
“Rupert,” Joyce gently touched his arm, “We’re all okay, that’s what matters.”
Giles nodded and then turned to face Buffy. “I’m terribly sorry for my outburst, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Peachy,” Buffy responded giving him an attempt for a smile.
“Good, now let’s all take a few deep breathes and start heading back home again,” Joyce suggested.
Buffy nodded absently, but her mind kept bringing up the memories of the crash with Angel and the near fatal one now. Angry tears threatened to spill over. She thought she was over it now! She really thought that the confession to Willow and Angel’s grave with Darla there had given her the closure she needed.
But if not, what would?
*************
Sighing, Buffy fell in a heap on her bed and shut her eyes. Emotional exhaustion really was…exhausting. It was only a little after 5:30, but given the option, Buffy was pretty sure she could have fallen back to sleep and not wake up till the next morning.
“Joyce and dad told me about what happened on the way back.” Buffy squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of Spike’s voice and then opened them with a deep sigh.
“Yeah…?” She said, encouraging him to continue. She didn’t move from her fetal position on her bed.
Spike hesitated before asking, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine! Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Buffy blurted out.
Spike shrugged, looking a little taken back. “Listen Summers, car accidents, even almost ones, are a bloody terrifying thing. A while back I was in the car with…my ex and we swerved and hit a tree. It wasn’t that bad, but it was probably the single most terrifying moment of my life.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the insight, Oh Great One, but I’m fine. I’m just…tired.”
Spike opened him mouth to retort, but stopped at exhausted and wan look on Buffy’s face. “Okay,” he finally said, “I’ll tell Joyce you aren’t feeling well.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly and then closed her eyes.
Spike watched her for a moment and then shut the door.
******
She was having a nightmare.
At first she was standing outside, the air balmy, the sky clear and Angel, looking alive and well, was standing next to her.
In her hands she held the most beautiful, precious little baby she’d ever seen. It was giggling, or so she guessed.
For some reason she couldn’t quite hear the baby or Angel, just a constant buzzing sound, but Angel kept pointing ahead and gesturing for her to come with.
She half-heartedly followed his finger to see a dark area, a storm. She knew it was bad. The foreboding clouds sitting low in the sky with distant flashes of lightening.
She shook her head no and kept yelling, even screaming, for him to just stay here. But he wasn’t listening and somehow they were there in a matter of seconds.
Everything shifted.
It was the crash. But now she was there in third person and kept watching it happen over and over again.
“Buffy!”
“Buffy!”
“Buffy!” Spike nearly bellowed, shaking her again. Finally her eyes fluttered open, sticky with tears.
She was still half-crying in his arms, not loudly, but her shoulders were shaking.
“Jesus,” he muttered as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around her. She wasn’t even really there, she just kept crying softly into his chest.
After a minute, her tears subsided and Buffy pulled back in confusion. “S-spike?”
He kept his arms securely locked around her so she couldn’t get away. “What the hell was that?”
Buffy blinked slowly, trying to clear her head. “I was having a nightmare.”
“A bloody idiot could tell me that!” Spike snapped. “You were fuckin’ crying!”
Instantly she straightened, her still damp eyes turning cold. “No one asked you to comfort me,” she spat and struggled to wiggle out of his grasp.
“No,” Spike bit out, not letting her go. “You don’t get to say that. I came in to find you mumbling in your sleep about a bloody angel and crying like there was no soddin’ tomorrow.”
“I’m fine!” Buffy said but her voice was raw and thick and unconvincing.
“No you’re not,” Spike retorted. Without thinking, he reached out and tilted her chin, not hard but firmly, so her dark grotto green eyes met his startling blue ones.
Neither of them spoke or broke eye contact until Buffy’s gaze slid down to his lips. That single look broke a dam inside him and he leaned down to kiss her.
Surprised didn’t even cover it. Buffy gasped at the touch of his lips on hers, which seemed to only further encourage him. The kiss started light, unsure but heady.
A surge of unexpected need possessed Buffy and she kissed him back feverishly. She had stopped thinking, stopped wondering, and stopped caring. All that mattered was the dizzying and exhilarating feel of Spike’s lips.
After what could have been five minutes or five hours later, they broke apart, struggling for breath.
“Oh,” she said softly.
“Oh,” he echoed and cleared his throat.
“Oh!” This ‘oh’ was less ‘pleasantly surprised’ and more ‘oh god! Oh god! What did I just do?’
“Bad, bad, bad, bad,” Buffy repeated and slipped out of Spike’s embrace.
Confusion marred his face. “Wait, Summers…Buffy, what’s the hell talking about?”
“That!” She half-shrieked.
“The kiss?” Spike asked, frowning.
“Yes! The…” Buffy couldn’t even finish her sentence. Stupid, stupid self, she berated. Why was it every time she felt lonely and needy she did something bad? Either it was dating an older guy, whom she had just had a traumatizing nightmare about, or it was kissing almost stepbrothers she didn’t even like!
“Oh god,” she moaned, rubbing her head.
“Summers, what is the bleedin’ problem?” Spike asked, agitated.
“The ‘bleedin’ problem’? The ‘bleedin’ problem’ is that our parents are dating and we’re not supposed to like each other! Remember we’re pains in each other’s asses,” Buffy hissed.
Spike seemed unfazed. “You know, Summers, you do a really poor British accent. It’s all wrong.”
“Who cares about my stupid British accent?! I-“ Buffy stopped herself and exhaled slowly. Calming down slightly, she met Spike’s eyes, her face serious. “Please, just…go, okay?”
Seeing Buffy’s face combined with the headache from all the confusion, Spike stood up and walked over to his bed and climbed in without another word.
Buffy guiltily bit her lip. She wasn’t trying to be mean, it was just that she didn’t like him like that, at all. Not to mention the awkwardness of them dating and their parents…it was all just very, very wrong.
A fluke, she told herself, it was just a fluke.
But if it was, why did it make her feel like…that?