Buffy’s eyes flew open.  Without realising it, her body tensed and she heard him mumble.

“You awake, Buff?”

Should she pretend she hadn’t heard him?  Should she tell him she had?  The decision was taken out of her hands when he stroked her hair and said, “If you don’t breathe out soon, you’re gonna pass out.”

Her long held breath came out in a snort.  “Sorry.”

“What for?”

“Er…I’m not really sure.”  Her nervous laugh confirmed his fears that she’d heard him.

“I’m guessing you heard what I said, yeah?”

He felt her head nod as it rested against his chest.

“Look, I didn’t mean to freak you out…I know we haven’t been together long and what with me being bl— ow!”

“Don’t keep throwing the blindness thing into anything about our feelings for each other.”  Buffy sat up straight and glared at him as he rubbed the arm she’d slapped.

“Well, it’s kind of a big deal, really.  And I’m not going all pity party on you.  It’s a fact.  I’m blind and it does complicate things.  Anyway just forget it, I didn’t mean—”

“To say it?”  Buffy’s heart pounded in her chest.  “You said it by accident?   You didn’t mean it?”

“Um…I was going to say I didn’t mean for you to hear it.  Not yet.”  He swallowed hard and bit the bullet, putting his heart on the line.  “I do love you, Buffy.  It’s okay, you don’t need to say it back or anything.  It won’t change anything.”

“Oh, Spike.  It will change things.  It already has.”

Fuck!  “Can’t we just forget it?”  He pushed the covers back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  “I thought you were asleep.”  He rubbed his hands over his face, silently cursing himself for being such a bloody idiot.

The bed bounced as Buffy moved on it.  He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting her to get off the bed and get dressed before leaving, but she didn’t do that.  She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her front to his back, and resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“I don’t want to forget it.  I don’t think any girl would ever want to forget when a guy tells her he loves her for the first time.  Especially because it means she can finally say what she’s known almost from the moment she met him.  She gets to tell him that she loves him too.”

He twisted round until they were face to face.  Before he could say anything, she cupped his face in her hands.

“I love you.”

The way his face lit up at her words told her what it meant for him to hear it.

“You do?”

“Of course I do, you dope!”

“Hey. I just told you how I feel about you, and you’re calling me a dope.”

 “You told me when you thought I was asleep.”  Buffy kissed the end of his nose and grinned.  “But, it was inevitable.”

“It was?  How do you work that out? Me thinking you were asleep was inevitable?”  He scratched his head.

“Not that.  It’s just…” she pushed his shoulder, giggling, “what’s not to love about me?”

Spike thought about the person he’d been before.  The ultimate one-night-stand guy.  Since he’d met Buffy, all he’d wanted was her to be with him all the time.  He’d thought it had been because he was blind and feared no one else would want him, but in reality, it was because he’d finally found his perfect match.

“This silence is so not flattering,” said Buffy, pretending to be in a snit.

He laughed.  “So I’ve got to flatter you now as well?  It’s a bit out of order.”  He laughed even louder, flopping back on the bed, holding his sides.

The snit was pretend no more.  “What’s so funny?”

When he managed to get his mirth under control, he reached up and pulled her down next to him.  “Sorry, it just made me think of something me and the lads used to say when we were out on the pull.”

Buffy chuckled softly.  “Why do I know that I’m not going to like what I’m going to hear?”

“That’s because in addition to being so beautiful, you’re intelligent too.”  He dissolved into laughter at his private joke once more.

“Spike!  Just tell me already!”

“Okay, but promise not to be mad at me.  It was just something we used to say.”  He shrugged.  “Mind you, it did work most of the time.”  Shifting away from her a little, he added, “There are no sharp objects within your reach, I hope?”  He took a deep breath.  “Here goes.  Just remember.  I.  Love.  You.”  He smiled lopsidedly.  “We used to say that you had to follow the three F’s where girls were concerned.  Food.  First you take her out to dinner.  Flattery.  Then you spend the time over dinner flattering her as much as you could.  That would lead to the last F –she’d take you home for a—”

“I get the picture, Spike.”

“Nothing,” he said, trying to make amends.

“What?”  He could almost hear her frown.

“You asked what’s not to love, and my answer is nothing.  There is nothing I don’t love about you, Buffy Summers.”

She giggled.  “That’s flattery, and since we already had dinner…”

“I like your thinking.”  Spike slithered down the bed, pushing her thighs apart.  “So we get straight onto the final F, then?”

“We’d better, Mister!”

With an energy that surprised them both, they made love for the second time that night, thoroughly christening Spike’s new bed.

*~*~*~*

The pair parted reluctantly the next morning.  A yawning Buffy headed off to open the store and an equally bleary Spike set to clearing away the dishes.  He had just finished stacking them in the dishwasher when the telephone rang.  After a quick fumble on the counter, he picked up the cell phone. 

“Hello?”

“Spike.  How’re you doing?”

“Riley!”  Spike wandered over and sat on the sofa.  “I’m good.  How about you?  What are the newbies like?  Any as bloody horrible as that Ted?”

“No, they’re all okay.  Got one kid here, just sixteen…man, it’s so unfair.”

“Yeah.”

For a moment they were silent, thinking of how cruel fate could be.

“Er…so…how did Buffy like the apartment?”

Spike grinned, sombre moment forgotten.  “I think she liked it.  I never really got around to asking her.”

“Too much information!” Riley could guess what the night had been like.

Laughing, Spike said, “So, I meant what I said the other day.  Why don’t you come over?  You could stay the night.  We could maybe go to the Bronze?  The Dingoes are playing at the weekend.”

“I dunno…”

“Aw c’mon.  Fred can’t make you work twenty-four-seven.  It’ll be fun.”  Spike knew that Riley worked every other weekend and that he was due to be off duty this weekend.  “Say yes.”

“Uh…okay.  But I’m not sure about going to the club, okay?”

“Okay.  No worries.  We can order pizza and hang out here.”  Spike had no intention of doing that, but he could work on Riley once he was with him.

“Okay.  I’ll come. I’ll be there around eleven hundre—er—eleven o’clock.”

“Eleven hundred, sharp!”

“You’re real funny, Spike.  You know that, right?”

“I know.”  He chuckled.  “See you then, Ri.”

After chatting for a few more minutes, they hung up and Spike began to plan how he could get Riley to agree to going to the Bronze without having to resort to force.  He also wondered if Riley would actually fit on the pull out bed that the sofa turned into.

“Freakishly tall, git.”

*~*~*~*

Spike arranged for Xander to go to collect Riley, so that he’d be able to help guide him right to the door to the apartment without causing the man embarrassment.  When they arrived, Spike buzzed them through and met them at his door.

“Hi, Xan, Ri.  Come on in.”

Xander, used to guiding Spike, led Riley to the sofa, before settling in an armchair.

“Glad you made it, Ri.  I hope Xander didn’t talk your ears off on the trip?  He does tend to babble.”

“Hey!  I so do not babble.  Babbling is so not what I do.  I converse! I have conversations, I…”  Xander caught Spike and Riley trying to hide their smiles, “Okay.  I babble. You can stop laughing at me now.”

“Made the trip entertaining,” said Riley.  “Travelling’s kinda boring when you can’t look out the windows.”

“Want a soda or a coffee before you leave, Xan?”

“Yeah, a Coke would be great, thanks.  I’ve got a half hour before my next job.”

“Ri?  Fancy a beer?”

“Beer sounds good, thanks.”

Spike walked into the kitchen and came back with two beers and a Coke.  “You’re in the chair, right, Xan?”

“Yeah.” 

Spike loved how Xander never made an issue about his lack of sight.  He walked a couple more paces into the room then held out the can.  Xan took it, saying thanks as he did, before Spike sat on the sofa next to Riley.  Swapping his grip on the bottles, Spike held one in each hand and reached out with his left until he felt it touch Riley’s knee.

“Here you go, mate.  Glad you made it.”

“Yeah, me too.  If I stay at Sandar on the weekends, I usually end up helping out.”

Xander watched the two men, feeling almost guilty at having twenty-twenty vision.  They were about the same age as he was, but their lives were so totally different from his.  He glanced at Riley, whose eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, but the scars on his face left no doubt about what would be seen if the glasses were removed.  Suddenly uncomfortable, he got to his feet. 

“Well, I’d better get going.  I’ll put the can in the trash on my way out.  I’m working this weekend so ask Jessie for me if you call in for a cab.”

“Will do.  Thanks, mate.” 

Spike listened to make sure the door closed properly behind Xander, before getting up and heading to the kitchen.  “Don’t know about you, Ri, but I reckon another beer’s in order.”

“Sounds good.”  He stretched out his long limbs confident that there was nothing in their way.  “So what have you been doing, apart from renting this place?”

“Not much.  I need to get a job or something; going to go mental if I don’t have something to do.”

“You’re okay for cash though?”

“Yeah, thanks to selling the property in London and the compensation from the insurance company, I’m okay.  More than okay really, but I can’t spend the rest of my days sitting on my arse.”

“Got anything in mind?” 

“I’d like to get back into reporting on gigs, but it’s a tough thing to break into and I’m not convinced I’d do any good when compared to sighted journos.”

“You should try it, though.”  Riley took a deep pull of his beer.  “Don’t get anywhere if you don’t try.”

Spike laughed.  “Jeez, you sound just like Fred!”

“Sorry.  It sort of rubs off.  I’m right, though.”

“Yeah, I know.” Spike grinned as he had an idea.  “How about I do a deal with you?”

Riley shifted in his seat.  “What deal?”

“I promise to send off my CV to mags and the like, and you come out tonight to listen to the Dingoes.”

“Deal.”

“Hey, you said that too quickly.”

“I’d already decided I’d go to the Bronze.  Figured I had to after spending my time pushing people out of their comfort zones and back into really living.  But no going back.  You’ve got to try to get a job.”

“Git.  I will.  Won’t hold my breath though.”  He reached out to the side table, his fingers seeking the remote to the music system.  “I’ve got a CD of the Dingoes.  Want to hear it?” 

“Sure.”

Spike pressed the button and music flooded the room. 

“I like them,” said Riley after listening to a couple of tracks.  “So are you going to play guitar with them tonight?”

“No.  Haven’t had much chance to practice lately.  Not getting up on a stage then making a bollocks of it.”

“So who else will be with us?” 

Spike could tell that Riley was nervous about the evening ahead by the tone of his voice.  “Well, me, obviously.  Then there’ll be Buffy and Willow, who goes out with Oz the bassist—”

“He’s the nurse, right?”

“Yeah, but don’t go bandying that about.  Not very ‘rock-star’ to be a nurse.”

“Suppose not.”

“I’d better give Jesse a call and book Xander and the cab for later.”

Riley snorted.

“What did I say?”

“Do you really have to?  Or is it just camouflage?”

“Huh?”

Riley moved his foot to the side sharply, catching Spike’s ankle.  “It’s just I don’t believe you haven’t already gotten it arranged.  There was no way you were going to let me stay in.”

“Oi, I resent that!”  Spike chuckled.  “I honestly didn’t book the cab, but you’re right, there was no way you were getting out of going to the Bronze.  I even had my secret weapon all lined up.”

“What’s that then?”

“Buffy’s cooking.  One taste of her grub and you’d be running out the door.”

“She can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, mate, she really can.  Talking of food, fancy a pizza before we go out?”

“Sounds good.  No pineapple on it though – ‘cause that’s just wrong.”

“No pineapple – check.”

Spike walked into the kitchen to where he kept his cell phone, ordered the pizza before letting Riley know where the bathroom was.  He showed him the bedroom, having decided that there was no way the former soldier would get a comfortable night’s sleep on the sofa-bed. 

Later, as he showered and got changed to go out, Spike’s stomach churned.  He fervently hoped his friend would enjoy the evening.  Hopefully the knowledge that the club would be dimly lit would give Riley more confidence as his scars would be less visible.  Listening to Riley singing tunelessly in the shower, Spike also fervently hoped Ri wouldn’t join in and sing along.