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Author's Chapter Notes:
really sorry its taken me so long to update! the next chapter will be up in the next couple of days, it'll be longer and answer alot of stuff! thanks so much for the reviews!
Buffy’s heart caught in her throat and her heart almost burst from her chest as she finally looked upon the man who had dominated her thoughts.



He was perfection. The bluesest of blue eyes shone from flawless ivory skin. His chiselled cheek bones and strong jaw appeared as though carved. His hair was slicked back and platinum blonde, but his eyebrows were dark. One was quirked (in the sexiest way), whilst the other had a scar running through it. The full lips she had only glimpsed before were twisted into a smirk, and he oozed sensuality.

He threw the axe he was holding to one side and tugged on her hand, leading her away from the prone body of the insane vampress.

He wasn’t very tall, and his body was lithe, compact, but his presence was massive. He was clothed entirely in black, from his scuffed combat boots and wonderfully tight jeans to his t-shirt and sweeping leather duster.

Buffy had never seen anyone like him before, and found that she never wanted to look away.

The sound of his voice was the only thing which snapped her out of her lust induced haze.

“See something you like pet?”

He sounded amused, and the look in his eyes was so suggestive that Buffy snatched her hand away as though burned.

She felt like she had been scorched, but from the inside, filled with a flame whose heat could not be quenched.

She forced herself to put aside her confused thoughts and remember the questions she had for this man.

She would find out what she wanted to know, and she would still beat it out of him if she had to. Even if he did look like a god.

The first question was not the one she intended to ask, but flew out of her mouth without further thought.

“What are you doing here?” her voice came out a bit louder and harsher then she’d intended. She would never have admitted it but she was scared. Not of him exactly, though his power and strength was obvious, but the sensations he was creating within her made her feel out of control, and she hated feeling out of control.

This wasn’t helped when he adopted a mock serious expression and answered with, “I’m here for cheerleader tryouts pet. Go sport.”



Buffy nearly laughed. The corners of her mouth twitched as she briefly imagined this hunk of manliness jumping around in a skimpy cheerleader’s uniform.

She squashed the impulse and asked again, this time more indignantly.

He snorted, “I was saving your life you ungrateful chit!” He started muttering under his breath and Buffy was pretty sure he said ‘bloody ungrateful birds... strutting around in their little skirts, just askin to be eaten. Bloke does a girl a favour, doesn’t even get a swoonin thanks anymore...”

Then he slipped from annoyed to suggestive in an instant. He hooked his thumbs into his jeans and Buffy’s eyes were involuntarily drawn to the sizable bulge he was framing, which was obviously his intention.

He leered and drawled, “There are ways you could thank me you know, show your appreciation...”

Buffy tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave him a deadly stare. “I had the situation completely under control before you turned up, so there will be no appreciation-ing of any kind.”

He ran his hand through his hair and rolled his eyes, “Bloody sorry pet, If I’d known you were wantin to have that pretty little throat of yours ripped out I wouldn’t have bothered stopping by.”

The fact that he had, actually, saved her life, albeit a day earlier then promised, really annoyed Buffy. She was the slayer, she saved other people, they did not save her.

She nearly yelled at him, “I’m gonna ask you one more time, and then I am totally gonna kick your ass. Who. The. Hell. Are. You?”

As she was talking he was lighting up a cigarette, on her last word he blew a plume of smoke into Buffy’s face and waited, with his head tilted to one side, to see if she’d make good on her threat.

The silence drew out between them. She took a step forwards. Suddenly there was a far off cry.

“Buffy? Buffy!?”

It was Willow, and she sounded worried.

He looked amused, “Think your wanted pet.” He turned to leave.

She grabbed his arm and was again shocked by the electric currents the contact produced.

He was looking directly at her and Buffy’s breath caught. It felt as though he was looking inside her, seeing not only everything she was but everything she could be. It was like being naked before him, but this thought, weirdly, did not make her uncomfortable. Suddenly his gaze became distant, as though he was looking beyond her, seeing something beyond them. “Watch your back luv, she’ll be back.” Buffy suddenly remembered Drusilla and spun around. Sure enough, Drusilla was gone.

Buffy’s mushy thoughts about him vanished, to be replaced by anger. “Why the hell didn’t you dust her when you had the chance you idiot?!”

He gave her a rueful smile. “You’re the slayer, figured it was your job to slay-her. Sides, it wasn’t time. Anywho I’ll be seeing you kitten. Soon.”

He tugged his arm from her grasp and started to saunter off.

For the second time that night Buffy couldn’t move, she wanted to follow him, but not knowing whether she wanted to kiss or beat him senseless froze her in place.

“By the way” he called over his shoulder, before he disappeared from sight, “The names William. William the Bloody. But my friends call me Spike.” He chuckled. “At least they would, if I had any friends...”

And then he was gone.

The rest of parent teacher night passed in a blur for Buffy. Willow had managed to get almost everyone out of the building safely, including Buffy’s mom. They had only met one vamp on the way and, as Xander was telling anyone who would listen, he dusted it good.



Angel had turned up when everything was winding down, and Snyder was telling anyone who would listen that they had been attacked by a drugged up gang of youths. He was broodingly apologetic about not being there to help Buffy deal with his murderous childe.

Buffy quickly knew that there was something more bothering him, he seemed confused and uncertain, (two things he had rarely, if ever, seemed before) and he kept sniffing the air in a way that was most wiggy. She had asked him if he was ok and as he replied that he was fine his expression went blank. Suspiciously blank. But Buffy didn’t press the issue, she had other things on her mind. Attitude giving peroxide blonde things.



Buffy once again did not mention her unusual meeting, though all she could think about was Spike. (She couldn’t think of him as William, he was most definitely a Spike. She kept wondering how he had got the nickname, and most of her musings made her end up blushing.)



Two days passed without sight or sound of Drusilla. Or Spike. Buffy was sat in the library with Giles who had been giving her a good old fashioned lecture about ‘safety, responsibility and callings’ when she suddenly realised that a) she hadn’t been listening to a word he was saying, and b) he had noticed and was not amused.

He had his serious ‘I am your very wise watcher and you must listen to me or be doomed’ expression on his face as he said, “I simply don’t know what has gotten in to you lately Buffy. You are distracted and unresponsive, It’s as if you have more important things to concern yourself with than potential death.”

Hearing the tone of his voice, half exasperation half fond concern, Buffy made a split decision and asked, “Giles, have you ever heard of someone called William the Bloody?”



Giles’ mouth pretty much hit the floor, and he whipped his glasses from his face so quickly he accidentally threw them across the room. When he didn’t seem to notice this but started to violently polish the air Buffy was pretty sure he had.










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