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This is un-beta'd so mistakes are all mine.

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Chapter Four: Young Love
Later that afternoon, Dawn’s classes ended and she excitedly headed to her locker to collect her book bag and head to Clem’s. She couldn’t wait to see him again, already missing him since their morning rendezvous. She sighed dreamily as she imagined running her hands over his beautiful face. She had already memorized every feature, down to the last brownish black freckle he sported near his shoulder. She wondered idly where he was ticklish…



Maybe I’ll get to find out, she thought wickedly, and chuckled lightly at the prospect of being able to touch Clem.



She headed out of the school, her backpack a painful weight on her back and she winced as her textbooks poked out through the fabric and into her back. She headed down to Restfield, her hands sweaty as an effect of her nervousness.



Don’t be such a girl. Be sexy and confident like a real woman, she chided herself. She wanted to be like Scarlett Johansson and Angelina Jolie who were the Queen Temptresses, in her opinion. She wished she could look like them, walk like them. She wished she had their grace and talent, their beauty. Maybe then Clem would desire her, like Spike lusted for Buffy.



Sighing in dismay, she pushed the thoughts aside and walked through the cemetery, arriving at Spike’s crypt with a smile on her face. Pushing open the door, she stepped inside the crypt and quietly shut it behind her.



“Clem?” she called out, her voice soft. Dumping her backpack near the door, she hung her arms at her sides, walking around the crypt in search of Clem.



“Right here, sugar!” Clem appeared from behind the sarcophagus. He appeared to have been looking for something and judging by the triumphant grin on his face, Dawn suspected he had succeeded. She watched with amusement as he popped a cheesy snack into his mouth.



“God, do you ever stop eating those?” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, loving to tease him about his creepy obsession with Cheetos.



Clem laughed, the sound music to her ears.



Puts Beethoven and Bach to fricking shame, she thought.



Clem gestured her over. “Can you help me pick them up?”



Dawn narrowed her eyes quizzically and wandered over to where he was standing behind the sarcophagus and giggled when she saw that his attempt at opening the bag at ended with the Cheetos flying in every direction possible. She nodded eagerly and he beamed in response, and a comfortable silence enraptured them both as they picked up all the Cheetos and safely returned them into the bag.



Not looking where she was going, Dawn turned and collided straight into Clem, accidently shoving him onto his back. Acting out of pure instinct, his hand shot out and sought support, finding her arm and pulling her down with him.



She landed atop him with a loud “Oh!” and gasped when their fall was complete. Clem stared up at her with wide eyes and she found herself in a trance, unable to look away. Their bodies so close together, touching in a way that they had both desired during sleepless nights. Though one would assume it a petty crush, they felt the electricity between them. The understanding and the mutual acceptance. They could both relate to being close to someone, but not being able to *really* be close to them. Spike and Buffy were impenetrable, too difficult to pry open to the naked eye.



Then a slow, sly smile curled at his lips as he held out a hand in her direction, a Cheeto between his thumb and index finger.



“Want one?”



****



Buffy finished her shift at 8:00 and tiredly punched her card in, warily removing her stupid hat and replacing it on one of the employee hooks. Sighing as she made her way around the counter, she pulled on her leather jacket and headed out, ready to start patrol for a couple of hours. The night was going to be a long one. She had pulled almost two shifts, incredibly grateful when Marion had decided to show up to work to cover the last few hours of the second shift.



Buffy remembered where Clem had carefully instructed her to go and forced her aching feet to carry her there quickly so she could do her business and head home. No, wait. She had to go pick up Dawn and then she had to make some dinner and she still had to pay the bills…and, God, did it ever end? All the worry, the responsibility. It piled atop her and felt herself drowning, wistfully thinking of what it would be like to just submit, to just let go and allow the water to fill her lungs…to end her pain.



No, she had too much to live for.



Well, perhaps that was a lie. Maybe she didn’t have much to live for, but she had to stay strong, and prove to everyone that she could handle the pressure.



Buffy let out a pained breath as she made her way to the address Clem had provided and genuine surprise overtook her features when she saw where she was.



It was the Sunnydale Ice Cream Parlor.



What the hell? Demons are nesting here? God, they really must have too much time on their hands, Buffy thought.



She glanced up at the fluorescent pink lights that bore the company name and winced at the brightness. She had a headache and all she wanted to do was sleep.



Sighing wearily, she entered the parlor and a series of smells assaulted her. Strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, praline, mocha. All sorts of sweet scents filled her to her core and she couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face. It was so immature of her but she hadn’t been to a parlor in God knows how long and she yearned to experience the childlike joy of purchasing a cheap ice cream cone and just gobbling up its sweetness.



“Buffy?” The incredulous, British voice snapped her out of her thoughts as she slowly turned to see the one person she least expected.



Spike.



*****



TBC





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