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Author's Chapter Notes:
Yay! A chapter! I think the whole write-then-post thing has worked out well for me so far--instant gratification is sort of my m.o. Thanks for the reviews last chapter, seems like I lost a ton of you guys, but oh well. Glad to see some of you are sticking with me, and I've got a few that are new. :) Thanks a ton! Hope you like the chapter! Sorry it's short, but I felt like it had to break here--some stuff coming up that I couldn't wait to write, before I got blocked. Smoochies, y'all!
“You’re sure?” The words were spoken with an oddly strained voice, the profile of the man’s face difficult to discern in the darkness of the room.

“Completely.” If Randy was being honest with himself, he would have admitted that the way Liam Angelus was acting at that moment was… well, it was scaring the crap out of him. There’s nothing stopping powerful men—especially when they’re pissed. Grimacing at the character of his clients, the private-investigator-gone-lackey thought of his baby boy and why he brought himself to deal with these privileged bastards each and every day. Taking an extra effort to choose his words carefully, he spoke again. “Miss Summers went to Mr. Pratt’s home at around 9 p.m. on the 27th. She stayed until the morning of the 28th, then left and headed back to the university. At 3 p.m. Mr. Pratt entered her dormitory and stayed until 5:15 p.m., when he escorted Miss Summers to work. Outside of the club is where that picture was taken,” he finished, indicating the large shot resting atop the other snapshots on the mahogany desk.

There was a long silence punctuated only by the ticking of an unseen clock. Randy shifted uncomfortably. Just a few more minutes until I can get my check and be done, was his mantra; he focused on the words and tried not to let his impatience show. Finally, he screwed up his face, knowing he would regret it before he asked, “Sir?”

“I have one final job for you.”

Damn it.

~*~

“Someone’s looking extra spicy tonight!” Sophie commented as her friend leaned against the bar and waited for her tray of drinks to fill. “You got a hot date?”

Buffy contemplated denial for a moment, then easily gave into her strong urge to dish—this wasn’t some sordid little secret after all; it was her BOYFRIEND! Her handsome, intelligent, talented…

“…sexy, sweet, insightful, GORGEOUS—”

“Wow!” Sophie interrupted, a huge grin on her face. “I’d say someone’s falling pretty hard!”

“What?” Buffy frowned, breaking from her reverie. Again she was tempted to refute the existence of her affections, but resisted with a little mental slap on the face. Bad Buffy! Gotta break those nasty little habits. “Okay,” she admitted, with a small smile that only added to the sincerity of her words. “I guess I am skipping down that particular path. Or sprinting would be probably be a better choice of words.” She gave Sophie an apologetic smile. “Am I driving you insane with the crazy joy?”

“Are you kidding?” Sophie laughed, with a pointed smirk. “Buff, there’s no shame in finding someone that you care about! Enjoy it, girly!” The brunette grabbed her tray and delved into the crowd of clubgoers, leaving Buffy to ponder the obvious truth in Sophie’s words.

Her first instinct had been not to admit to anyone—or herself—that someone could care for her; it only took a minute to see where those particular habits had been learned. Explaining her past relationships to Spike had helped her to see the source of her insecurities, and while she was far from conquering them, Buffy was well on her way to managing them. It felt good, she realized, to be able to understand just why her relationships had been disastrous up until then. Well, apart from the fact that none of those guys could ever measure up to Spike! My delicious Spike, my talented Spike, my Spike!

Life was good.

~*~

“Life is good, Rupes.” Spike grinned as he spoke into the receiver, having just updated his uncle on his and Buffy’s relationship. The older man had shockingly taken it well; the expected lectures of unprofessional dating conduct were nowhere to be seen, happily replaced with a pleasantly surprised congratulation.

“I’m pleased to see that you’re doing so well, William,” Giles answered. Yet there was a cautious pause, and when he spoke again his tone was guarded. “But please, you must understand my concern that, well… You may be rushing into things?”

“What do you mean?” Spike asked, his good humor gone as he took a swallow of his gin and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only an hour until Buffy’s shift ended, but every passing second seemed to make the hands move more slowly.

“Now Will, you know I didn’t mean for that to insult you,” Giles said quickly, with a trace of irritation in his voice. “It’s just that it’s been so soon since you were with Drusilla, and it would be a shame to use such a lovely girl as Buffy to—”

“I can give you complete assurance that this is nothing of the sort,” interrupted Spike. To be truthful, he had been afraid that his uncle wasn’t going to approve of Buffy on a personal level, but several more minutes of conversation completely dispelled that thought from his mind.

After Giles ended the call, intending to contact Liam Angelus on the schedule, Spike settled down on the couch and continued to stare blankly at the clock—although if anyone had asked he would have quickly denied doing so. Spike knew that his tendency to devote himself fully to the women he cherished had often brought heartbreak into his life, but there was something about Buffy that stopped the fear in his gut before it could truly take hold. Despite her reservations at the beginning, William intuitively knew that the definition of their relationship had taken giant steps towards giving Buffy the security that she so craved in a partner. To be certain that he was satisfying the one he loved was a—

Wait. Did I just think…?

The clock ticked on.





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