Hidden Secrets by Karbear57

Summary: NC17- Spike whisks Buffy away to their private spot. The sun comes up and hidden secrets are revealed. PWP


Buffy’s head hung low as she slowly walked through the cemeteries. Once again Dawn had accused her of not caring. Willow left again with Amy. It was getting to be too much if only she could escape….

She felt his presence before she heard him, Buffy really needed to invest on a cowbell for him. His heavy boots snapped a twig from a near by tree, alerting any non-supernatural being of his location. Buffy stopped, a smile tugging at her lips. She cocked her head to the side and listened for his steps to come closer.

“Hey, pet.” His voice felt like hot wax trickling down between the valley of her breasts. Buffy’s face flushed when she realized she knew exactly what hot wax trickling down her breasts felt like. She felt his hands ghost over her shoulders and down her arms, barely touching her. “Out for a midnight stroll?”

“Something like that,” she whispered, her eyes closed as he brought her body against his rubbing his erection against her.

“Any action?” his lips asked as he inhaled Buffy’s scent at her neck.

“No,” Buffy pouted and turned around. “I so need to kill something.”

“Shh,” Spike pressed a finger against her lips he bit his lip as his eyes sparkled. “I’m already dead, but I’m sure I can figure out a way for you to work off some excess energy.”

“Stop,” Buffy closed her eyes and kissed his finger. She could help but to wonder why she gave him these mixed signals. She found herself saying ‘no’, but meaning ‘yes’.

“Make me,” he smiled as her lips played against Spike’s cool skin.

Suddenly her eyes popped open and she stepped back, Buffy saw the confused look on Spike’s face adding, “Duck!”

Spike barely had a chance to duck before a large, green demon hit him. Buffy ran to the other side of the demon and started to punch at the thing. “Hey, big green thing, look at me, Slayer!”

The green demon flexed his muscles as he fought off her attack. In the meantime, Spike regained his senses and started to attack the demon from the opposite side of Buffy.

“Ew, looking all Lou Ferrigno and all. Does this mean you go back to a shy guy when you meet a pretty lady?” The demon concentrated most of its attack to Buffy, “Guess not, ‘cause, hello, pretty lady here and you’re all ugly and green.”

Spike kicked the large legs out from under the demon, toppling the grunting green thing down. Buffy kicked the large jaw and heard it snap under her boot.

Both Spike and Buffy watched as the demon’s head stilled and its breathing stopped. “Stupid Hulk thinking I’m not a pretty lady.”

“Yeah,” Spike kicked the demons head once more for effect, watching it morbidly twisted in an unnatural way. “Doesn’t know a pretty lady is when it sees one.”

Buffy watched Spike as he spat on the demon’s deceased body. Suddenly she had an idea. “Hey, let’s forget about stupid Hulky.”

“Yeah?” Spike lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke.

“Yeah,” she started to walk away, expecting him to follow.

~*~*~

Spike sped across the highway, content in the knowledge that Buffy trusted him enough to take these long drives around the coast. She held on to his body as they zoomed down the road. The moon was bright and the stars twinkled above her. Buffy closed her eyes as the wind pushed her hair behind her shoulders. She felt Spike’s abdominal muscles ripple with tension under his duster and her hands.

Using his body to hold her secure, she let her head drop back and inhaled the scents of the night, sea and Spike. Buffy trusted him to keep her safe as she let her body relax and commune with nature. He also knew she trusted him to see her cry, to be weak. He knew that was a rare treat that she didn’t give to many, not even her so-called friends.

Spike slowed the bike down as they came across an abandoned hotel with cabins nestled along it. They found this place a few weeks ago during one of their midnight runs, secluded and romantic. Something that tugged on the heart strings of his inner-poet and her inner-woman.

He felt Buffy lean into him as the bike left the main highway and started down the gravel path. Spike drove past the first set of cabins and continued down the pathway.

He slowed the bike down to a crawl as they neared the last cabin. This was theirs, a special spot just for them. A small twin bed with a few sets of silk sheets and blankets brought here, Spike gave the last cabin a personal touch just for her. A touch of fanasty in her shadowy world, just for her.

He shut the engine off as the bike slid still; his boot had already kicked the stand down. Buffy held onto him a second longer than necessary as the fog in her brain cleared. She slowly disengaged herself from Spike as she looked around the cabin.

Without a word, she smiled at him and took off running sure that he would follow. Spike hopped off the bike quickly and pursued his prey. His face shifted in the moonlight, his features sharp and piercing as he hunted. Although no sound echoed except nature’s beasts, Spike found it easy to follow Buffy’s trail of shed clothing and heightened scent of arousal.

He picked up her first gift, her thin shirt hanging eye level on a bush. He brought the precious piece of cloth to his noise and inhaled. His scent rubbed off from his duster mingled above her more feminine one. He stuffed the shirt in his duster pocket, light and small enough to fit. He took off in a dead run, his noise picking up any trail she left him.

Next, he found her pants. Tiny by any means, barely bigger than his upper arm, but somehow she wore them. He hooked the pair of pants as he passed them, picking them up.

She left him her bra in a tree, fifteen feet above the ground. He chucked her pants around his neck as he jumped up, catching the delicate material with his finger tips. Without loosing any time, he continued on his pursuit.

He found her thong by aroma alone. Stuck under leaves and sticks, the red pair of lingerie held her distinct fragrant signature, alerting him that she was close. Slowing his pace, Spike came across a clearing.

Her boots and socks lay at the mouth of the clearing, a gateway left for him. He dropped all his prizes next to the boots and slowly walked into the clearing. The trees opened up to the heaven, allowing the moon and stars to shine down, illuminating the thick dewy grass.

He could feel her come closer behind him, her scent over powering his senses. Shifting back to his human face, Spike stood still waiting for her to make the first move.

TBC

Spike closed his eyes as he listened to her step forward, her hands brushing along his shoulders. She tugged on the sleeve of his duster, pulling it off him. He shrugged his shoulders, helping her disengage the old leather from his being.

Her warm hands rested on his hips, slightly squeezing them, feeling him. Spike felt her head rest against his back, already knowing that her eyes were closed as she held him close.

Buffy’s fingers itched against the denim of his jeans, tracing his belt. He listened to her breathy moans as she glided her hands about his body. Spike felt her breasts pressed against his back as her nimble fingers worked at the buckled that held the belt together. With practiced precision, her fingers unlatched the belt and tugged it free from his belt loops.

Spike rocked on the balls of his feet as he waited for her to continue. He looked down at her hands as they hesitated. He could smell her arousal, yet something deeper hung on her scent. He felt her heated breath as it puffed against his back, laced with indecision and insecurity.

Inhaling, Spike looked up into the night sky, waiting and hoping that she would not run from this. From him. Or the feelings she knew she was only beginning to recognize. He felt her hands move from around his hips, but still felt that she was near.

Her hands settled on his biceps, lightly squeezing him under his shirt. Exhaling, Spike felt her hands travel up to his shoulders, she barely touched him, instead grazed his t shirt with the pads of her fingertips.

Spike fought for control of his being as her fingers travelled up to his neck, lightly caressing him. Her fingers moved into his hair, her nails scratching at his scalp as she explored.

His eyes closed as he enjoyed the treatment she bestowed onto him. Her right hand held onto his shoulder as her left played in his long hair, breaking apart the gel shell he used to straighten it.

Without embarrassment, he moaned softly as Buffy stepped closer to him, her breasts rubbing against his back. Her heart beat rapidly as she explored him, her heady arousal filling the air of the small clearing.

Her hand abandoned his head and hair to travel down his back once more. He felt her breath as she continued to touch him, never leaving the vicinity of his bodies outline for long. He felt her gather up the material of his shirt as she tugged it free from his jeans. Spike moved to help her, but she stilled her movements until he conceded.

This was new, something different in their relationship. Buffy never wanted to take the time to explore, to make the other feel cherished. Something had changed, something Spike didn’t want to question, but knew that he had to eventually. Just not right now.

Her warm hands brushed against his sides as she continued undressing him. She ran her fingers along his abdominal muscles; his shirt was now free of his pants. She drew the shirt up his torso, her fingers blazing against his cool skin. He lifted his hands in the air and helped her shrug the shirt off.

She threw the shirt behind her and stepped forward. She pressed her breasts against his back, her hard nipples pressing against his flesh.

Buffy’s hands settled on his hips once more, her touch no longer hesitant. Spike sharply inhaled as her fingers found the button of his jeans. He could feel her smile against his bare back, her lips started to trail kisses against his shoulders.

He felt the release of the top button, his erection straining to be free. Her hands inched over the hard denim, her fingers tracing his cock slowly. Spike bit his lower lip as she continued the sweet torture, her fingers found the zipper and started to release it.

“Get with it, pet.” Spike gasped, unable to hold out much longer.

Her lips pressed against his flesh as she let the zipper release and his cock sprung out. Breathing a sigh of relief, Spike clenched his jaw as Buffy proceeded to fondle his erect penis. Spike moved quickly, shedding his boots and pants before Buffy knew what he was doing. With grace only Spike the Master Vampire had, he pushed her hands from his delicate member and turned around in her arms.

Buffy squealed as he lifted her off the ground. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as Spike crushed their bodies together. Her arms encased his neck and her breasts pushed against his own toned chest.

Spike inhaled her scent, his nose buried in the crook of her neck. Buffy nibbled on his ear as she felt his tongue dart out to taste her salty skin. She felt Spike turn around as they slowly explored each other. He felt he cock bob up and down, grazing her soft buttocks.

“Spike,” she breathed, holding onto him tighter as he twirled her under the moonlight. His face lifted from her neck as he watched the scenery around them. His feet moved on the cool grass as he moved them, his vampire reflexes keeping them stable. Buffy’s lips moved from his earlobe across his cheek until she found his lips.

They kissed with quiet intensity, their lips saying what they couldn’t vocalize. Buffy pulled back to breathe, her lips hovering close to his. Spike waited for her to catch her breath, watching her as she whispered nonsensical words against his lips.

He continued to twirl their bodies, enjoying her shivers of pleasure. Buffy’s head tilted back as she inhaled the night air. Spike watched her arteries in her neck pump her rich blood just underneath the surface.

He spied a smooth boulder a few yards away; it was flat on top, about three feet off the ground and about five feet long. It was perfect for them. He slowed his movement down, watching Buffy come out of her hypnotic daze. She opened her eyes and looked into his, a silent question between them.

Spike held her with one hand on her thigh and the other on her back; he pulled her close to his chest. He silenced her with his lips slipping against hers. Swallowing her moan, he began to traverse the clearing towards the rock. He gently laid her down on the cool, hard surface of the rock.

Buffy hissed when her lust heated skin made contact with the cool stone. Their lips broke apart for her to breath. Her eyes questioned him once again; the only response was his smirk.

She watched as his lips came to rest on her naked breast. Sighing, she watched him suck her pert nipple into his mouth; a flood of arousal hit her core as she watched his firm lips encase her with reverence. Spike’s hand cupped her other breast his fingers pinching her nipple as he feasted on the other. Her body arched into his as he continued suckling her, switching from breast to breast, as he feasted on her flesh. Her feet found purchase on the smooth rock, her legs forming a cradle for his naked body.

Buffy’s head rested against the cool, hard surface as Spike moved down her body, his hands and mouth worshiping her curves. His mouth licked along her ribcage, tracing each indentation of her bones as he continued downward. His fingers dug into her hips, holding them still as his mouth approached her mound.

He inhaled as he neared her warm, moist core, permanently imprinting her scent into his brain. He rested his cheek against her silky smooth leg; his eyes watched her face as she anticipated his strike. His lips curled into a smile as her body unconsciously squirmed against him, trying to find something to release her pent up pleasure.

Buffy felt her hips shift, her aching arousal causing her body to take matters into its own hands. She felt Spike exhale, his cool breathe tickling her. She waited for him to continue his journey, to complete her, but he stayed still against her thigh.

“Spike,” she cried out, needing something; in truth, needing him. She felt his cheeks move into a smile, her plead for him pleased him. His hand splayed against her other hip, immobilizing her. Her knees threatened to shake with desire, but thankfully stayed still, cradling his body.

“Buffy,” he whispered, angling the words against her clitoris.

“Please!” She knew she was begging, but she didn’t care. Buffy knew he wouldn’t care, not this time. She felt that something deeper was happening, something that she had to ask for, to beg for.

“What do you want, Slayer?” his voice was deceptively calm, his body pressed against her, driving her into the rock.

Buffy struggled for words to form on her tongue but she was unable to vocalize her need. “Please,” she pleaded again and again.

She felt his breath tickle her clitoris once more as he reprimanded her response, “Tsk, tsk. Not good enough, love. Gotta be specific.”

“Spike,” she groaned, her body pulsating with need. “I need…”

She felt his tongue dart out to taste her wet arousal from her core. Her brain shut down at his soft touch. She cried out, her hips reared when he retreated.

“Come on, Slayer. You can say those naughty things that you want.”

“Spike,” again her voice cried out, desperation thick on her skin.

“You’ve said them before. Say them for me,” he commanded softly.

“Please,” she knew what he wanted to hear, what she needed to say, but she couldn’t form them in her larynx.

“Slayer,” he teased, his lips were so close to her clitoris, her overheated sex. “Tell me. Ask me for it. Beg me for it.”

“I can’t,” she sobbed. It wasn’t a nightly ritual that Spike would tease her, torture her for her admission, but he was becoming more demanding when she refused.

She felt him shift on top of her, his shoulders now even with her hips as his chest pressed against her mound. “You can, Slayer.”

“No!” Her denial echoed in the forest. Tears ran down her cheeks onto the stone as she struggled deep within herself. “I can’t. Please, Spike, please.”

His body covered hers immediately and his arms moved under her back, cradling her to him. “Shhh, love.”

He held her close, his lips whispering sweet nothings into her hair. Her arms wrapped around his back, clasped together and squeezing tight.

This was new, her tears and choked desperation. He felt it, something weighed heavy on her soul, something that he’d never felt or had never ever heard in her voice before. Something he knew she’d never felt before. She choked on unknown emotion as she cried out. He could locate grief and heartache in her pleas, but so many more emotions all twisted together that he could not identify all of them.

He held her, it seemed like forever. Her cries became whimpers and her tears dried, but he continued to hold her and sporadically kiss her head. He realized that not only was she not pulling away instead, she held him closer.

Gentler than before.

“Slayer?” he asked quietly. The birds started to chirp in the trees, welcoming the morning sun as the sky began to turn from black into purple.

“Vampire,” Buffy muttered as her arms tightened around his back.

“It’s almost sunup.”

“Oh,” her arms relaxed around him allowing him to move back.

“Don’t have time to go back to Sunnyhell,” he said almost regretfully, “guess we can stay in the cabin.”

“Yeah,” she avoided his gaze and looked up at the brightening sky. “Umm, lets.”

“Here,” Spike pushed himself off the rock and away from Buffy. “Can’t be too comfortable on this thing. Let’s get our clothes and get some shelter, eh?”

Buffy sat up on the rock and drew her legs close to her chest. She buried her face into her knees and nodded. “Yeah.”

Spike started to gather up his clothes, and picked up her clothes at the edge of the clearing. He walked back with their clothes in one arm. “Buffy,” he commanded her attention softly.

She looked up at him, a smile on her lips when she saw him standing naked in front of her.

“Coming?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.” She whispered softly as she got off the rock. She walked towards him and stepped in time with him as they made their way towards the cabin before the deadly rays of the sun hit him.

As they neared the gravel road and their destination, Buffy pressed herself into Spike’s side and took his hand into her. She squeezed her fingers around him and kept walking. She studied the trees and plants along their paths, missing the look of utter devotion displayed on his face as they walked hand and hand.

tbc....

The sounds of nature’s song woke Buffy mid afternoon. Her eyes opened slowly as her brain dug itself out of the dark abyss of sleep. The first site to behold her was Spike’s bare chest, silent and unmoving. Buffy must have used his chest as a pillow while she slept. Spike’s arm was curled around her, cradling her body against him. She couldn’t believe that they fell asleep on the twin-sized mattress, covered with sheets Spike procured weeks ago. His duster covered her body, something Spike must have done after she fell asleep.

Looking up at his face, Buffy traced the relaxed lines that framed Spike’s face. He looked so… so different. Years of life were hidden under the stoic mask he wore every night, never to reveal his true beauty. Buffy watched as the muscle in his cheek twitched and his eyes moving under strained eyelids. Spike was obviously dreaming. His lips formed a small pout, the lower lip jutting out, begging for her to just kiss it.

Suddenly, Buffy pulled back and sat up. Oh my god? What was she thinking? This was Spike. She brought his duster up to her chest. This…this was? Buffy just didn’t know. But it scared her. Badly. Familiar words of ‘monster’ and ‘soulless’ flew through her brain as she scolded herself for feeling…something… for him.

Buffy looked back at his sleeping form, Spike’s arm now draped over the side of the bed, his biceps twitching from their loss. He seemed so serene. Buffy shook her head. There was nothing serene about a killing machine, a vampire with the only purpose in his unlife to cause death.

Sometimes it surprised Buffy, how deadly accurate Spike was. The man, she corrected herself; the vampire that protected her on a nightly basis was the same vampire that had tried to kill her for years but couldn’t, years of half cocked schemes and nefarious campaigns with only one virtual goal in his mind. Death of the Slayer. Death to her. But none of them came to fruition. Was it the fates intervening? Protecting one from the other until a time when…

No. She couldn’t think that way. Not when it came to Spike. She couldn’t allow him to love her. Couldn’t… because if she did, it would mean that Angel… Buffy cut her thoughts off. It didn’t matter what anything meant.

She now knew she could always count on Spike to have her back when things got too much. Buffy never had to worry during patrol, when the sun set, he would be there, in the shadows. Spike would swoop in like a romance novel hero and brutally attack anyone that got too close to her person. It was strange when she thought of it. In the past she was with men that would do the same thing, to protect her. Angel. Riley. They did the same thing as Spike. She wouldn’t allow it, she couldn’t allow it then, but now could she? Maybe it was different with Spike. Something was different.

“Huh?” She felt Spike’s body jerk awake. Still staring forward, Buffy felt Spike’s hand rest against her hip, caressing her through her clothes. “Love?”

Spike felt her stiffen at his term of endearment, but she didn’t pull away. He watched as Buffy slowly turned around. “You’re awake.”

He stretched and nodded, “Seems to be about four or so, we’ve slept a long time.”

“Yeah,” she agreed and then turned around to avoid his gaze. Spike sighed, reading her body language and took his hand off her person.

“Gotta be pekish. Wonder if we still have anything in the cupboards for you?” Spike stood up and looked around the tiny cabin. Lucky for him, the dense trees around the cabin blocked direct sunlight through the tiny windows.

Buffy watched as Spike walked over to the tiny kitchen area. Shouldn’t be considered a kitchen with barely a sink and stove with a cupboard. It was more of a kitchenette. Spike scratched his bare chest with his right hand as he searched for nourishment for Buffy.

“Spike?” Buffy asked quietly.

Spike looked back at Buffy with his eye brow raised, “Yeah, poodle?”

“It’s… never mind.” She shrugged and got out of the bed.

Perplexed, Spike turned around and finished his search for her food. He pulled out a pack of crackers and a bottle of peanut butter. “Here we go!”

Buffy nibbled her lower lip as she watched Spike open the package of crackers and jar of peanut butter. He quickly applied the orange goo to the crackers and laid them on a napkin. Buffy couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. The hurt look in Spike’s eyes made Buffy regret her mirth.

“Sorry,” she stifled the rest of her laughter when Spike set the knife down. “It’s just that you look so cute.”

Blinking slowly, Spike thought he misheard her. “Pardon?”

Buffy’s hand gestured his way, “You know cute. With the curly, bed head and bare chest. Making the Slayer a snack of peanut butter and crackers.”

Spike’s lips twitched, obviously repressing his amusement. “Is that so?”

Buffy giggled and then abruptly stopped her voice suddenly distant. “You know… for an evil undead thing.”

Spike’s face fell when he heard her. “Yeah,” he muttered and went back to making her snack. The knife stopped, poised above the cracker when he looked up at her. “In a second thought: being the evil, undead thing that I am. I shouldn’t be feeding the Slayer. Making her kiddie snacks and all that rot.”

He threw the knife on the counter and stepped away. Suddenly angry that she denied him, denied his feelings, his character once again. Buffy had the decency to look ashamed. “Spike, I didn’t mean…”

Spike glanced at her and then sighed, “Look, forget about it.”

“But…” Buffy turned towards him and tried to explain.

“No,” Spike quickly walked to his duster and rooted around the front pocket for his pack of cigarettes. “Can’t harm the feelings of a evil, soulless being, can ya?”

“Spike,” she sighed, not knowing what to say.

As he inhaled the smoke and shook his head and pointed towards her. “Doesn’t matter, does it?”

“What matter?”

“Doesn’t matter what I do. I’m in a little box labelled evil. It doesn’t matter how many vamps I stake or how many Polgara demons I slice through. Doesn’t matter I stuck around while you were dead and buried! Or that I took care of Dawn while your precious soulfull Scoobies scampered around finding the Urn of Osiris. Bring’in you back because they couldn’t take the weight of the world resting on their shoulders!! I’m stuck in that damn box because you taped it up and shipped it out.”

Tears marred Buffy’s vision as she watched Spike rant.

“Doesn’t matter that I’ve changed! I no longer see you or your little band of merry friends as happy meals on legs. I love you, want to live in your world and what do I get? Just the damn label of evil and soulless. I’ve had it!”

Buffy stepped forward and reached out for him, but he evaded her.

“You know what? If I’m so evil and soulless; I should just leave you out here. Middle of nowhere, obviously no one comes around as this place as it is deserted.”

“Spike,” Buffy paused. “I didn’t mean…”

“What? What Slayer? You didn’t mean what? That I was evil?” At her nod, he continued, “I hardly believe that. Dru was right, I should have killed you a long time ago.”

“Stop it!” Buffy yelled back. Sadness in her eyes, “I can’t. I’m sorry I can’t, Spike.”

Spike took a hit off his cigarette and looked thoughtfully at her. “What are you saying, Slayer?”

Buffy paused to wipe the tears from her eyes. Slowly she walked towards the door to the cabin, apparently lost in thought. “You ask me every night, what I want. What I need. But don’t you see? I can’t. I can’t have what I want! What I need!”

Spike looked her up and down. “And that is?”

Buffy paused and looked at Spike disbelievingly, shaking her head. “And, you know why? Because I’m stuck in my own little box. Everyone forgot about me in that box, forgot to punch holes in it. You’re lucky that you don’t have to breathe, you won’t suffocate.”

“What are you saying? Lost me a while ago.”

“Nothing. I’m saying nothing Spike.” Buffy looked outside, the sun was still high in the sky. “I need…”

Spike tossed his cigarette away, “Need?”

Slowly Buffy turned back towards him with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Spike watched helplessly as Buffy opened the door and stepped out. He wanted to go after her, wanted to… do something, anything. It broke his heart every time he saw that she cut off her emotions, no matter what they were. He saw it in her eyes, the resignation she felt. Some part of him felt guilty for being the cause of it, for taking her comment serious when he knew she didn’t seem to mean anything by it.

Chapter 4

Buffy walked down the same path that just a few hours ago she had with Spike. Still holding her tears in, Buffy quickly made her way deep into the forest. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. Good Slayers don’t cry. Good Slayers were hard and they didn’t carry emotions around with them. They didn’t have friends that would bring them back from the dead over and over again. They weren’t supposed to be guardians to a faux sister. Their lives were supposed to be short and end in peace.

Peaceful was the last thing she felt.

Barely noticing the trees pass her by, she continued to walk. Buffy passed the clearing that she and Spike had played in, as she went deeper into the forest. She tripped over a broken branch heading off the worn path, her feet now on unstable and uncleared ground.

Buffy moved through the trees quickly, her enhanced reflexes allowing her to correct her balance when a root or branch would catch her.

Spike paced back and forth in the cabin. Buffy had been missing for over two hours, leaving him to curse the sun as it made its slow journey across the sky. He could strangle Buffy for leaving like that, trapping him in this hell hole alone. He looked over at the bed and remembered the first time he’d brought sheets to the cabin. She ‘thanked’ him right properly that night.

Now, she left him in this place, filled with memories. Memories of her writhing beneath him, above him and beside him. It was torture to be stuck within these four walls without her. Left with only his thoughts and memories.

He shouldn’t have taken offence to her defensive self. She was fighting him, fighting it, whatever it may be. He should have stayed quiet, fed her and then shagged her on the bed until sunset.

~~~***~~~

Buffy’s legs felt like they could go any further. She stood on a cliff overlooking the desert. Off in the distance, Buffy watched the sun set through the mountains. It had been hours since she had ran from the cabin, hours since leaving Spike alone. Buffy tried not to think about him or what he said. Some part of her knew that Spike spoke the truth about her putting him in a box labelled ‘evil’.

How many demons did he have to kill before she would change that label? How many times did he have to take care of her or Dawn, before she would remove him from the box? Tears ran down her cheeks unnoticed as she stared into the setting sun.

How did she get here? Jaded and uncaring of others around her? It wasn’t like she wanted to be like that, she just couldn’t help it. It started before Glory, probably even before Riley. Maybe it started in high school or maybe when Angel left? She just couldn’t be bothered with their lives, keeping up with them. Maybe it was the Slayer package, that the strength and mission given to her sealed her fate and those around her with hers.

She looked back on her freshman year in the dorms with Willow. Their lives diverged so much; they were no longer the same naïve girls that were in high school. Xander definitely wasn’t the same. Buffy couldn’t pinpoint the exact time Anya became more than a consolation date.

How did she get here?

Buffy watched as the last light from the sun flared in the sky before saying goodnight. She knew he would be after her, running from the cabin this very moment, tracking her. Saving her.

The question was did she want to be saved?

~~~***~~~


Spike stalked through the forest, tacking Buffy’s scent. She didn’t bother hiding her path or presence in the forest. He supposed she was lost thinking again, too bothered to hide from him. That’s when Spike got in trouble, when Buffy had time to think, to be bothered. He saw it in her eyes, the haunted and repressed gaze. He would lose her to her mind, to her thoughts and he couldn’t think how to get her back to him.

She didn’t share anymore and it killed him every time she would show up at his crypt. He knew Buffy needed someone to talk to, to confide in, and yet she stopped. Spike convinced himself that she was getting over her brief trip to heaven when they would sit and drink or play cards. She would smile a true smile, laugh and giggle. Her eyes would lose the brown murkiness of despair, if only for a few hours and Buffy would be filled once again with light. With life. Buffy would stand taller when she left the haven of his presence as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Spike shook his head, now she didn’t want to talk and the haunted look in her eyes hadn’t left in weeks.

Maybe she needed a confident instead of a boyfriend. Spike snorted; a boyfriend. Was that what he was? Maybe a lover? He wanted to be beyond that, beyond anything that human relationships define. He wanted to be inside her head and body, cuddle up next to her heart and reside there for all eternity.

But that wasn’t possible. She wouldn’t allow it. This afternoon was proof that she wouldn’t. It was always about her, always about Buffy. Maybe that was the problem? Everyone looked at her like broken glass, treated he with kid gloves. Could she be glued back? Would she ever be as good as she was?

Everyone was asking that question. Would she ever be their Buffy again? Spike had no idea.

Spike stopped in his tracks, there she was, Buffy. He spied her sitting in the middle of a wild flower field, looking at the night sky. He strode over to her and stopped a few feet away as he watched her.

Spike knew that she was aware he was there, but refused to be the first person to speak. Instead, he opted to gaze up at the same sky as her.

“I used to count the stars in the night sky from my bedroom,” she spoke quietly in the night. Spike stepped forward and then slowly sat down beside her, his eyes focused on her face. “My mom would brush my hair as I stared at the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of a shooting star.”

Spike took out a cigarette and lit it. “Did you ever find one?”

Buffy huffed her answer, “You think I would be a Slayer if I did?”

He nodded, “True. So tell me, pet, when you find that shooting star what will you wish for?”

Buffy turned her head slowly towards him and blinked. Quietly, almost breathing the word.

“You.”

Chapter 5

Spike blinked in surprise, his body suddenly stilled. “What?”

Buffy’s eyes fell to the ground as the still night draped over her. She pursed her lips and glanced away, ignoring him and her recent revelation. Unwilling to be dismissed or be rejected, Spike forced her to face him with a fierce pull of his hand on her chin.

“Slayer,” he warned in a low tone. “If you are playing some sort of game, you better find a stake and use it.”

“Forget it,” she paused in thought.

“It may not mean that much to you. I may not even mean…”

“Spike,” she started quietly. “Ever wonder why we’re here?”

“I couldn’t take it if you’re giving me a crumb; only to find out it’s going to evaporate.”

“Spike,” she paused and looked at him, her heart beating faster when she noticed the complete vulnerability echoed in his eyes. “I’m not… playing a game with you.”

He paused and looked away. “So.”

“So, yeah. Ever wonder why I come to you? Why we are together… here…now?”

“That’s easy, pet. Hot, insatiable steamy sex.” Leaning back on his elbows, he reclined as he watched her struggle with her emotions and thoughts.

She rolled her eyes, “No, well, yeah, there is that.”

“It’s because you don’t have to pretend.” Spike spoke quickly, almost as if the words tumbled out of his head before he could register what they were.

Buffy looked over her shoulder at him, “How so?”

He shrugged, “Scoobies and the Bit, they expect you to be someone. To do something specific and when you stray they don’t like it.”

“And you? Don’t expect me to be someone? Come on? Get real.” She pivoted her body so her legs draped over his outstretched legs. He smiled at her simple act, as if she was completely comfortable with him. Comfortable enough with herself to be in such an intimate pose.

“I am. See, here’s the thing. You don’t have to carry on a conversation when I’m around. You know that I’m ecstatic when you let me be in your presence. I don’t expect you to be the Slayer or the girl, or anything the other wankers want you to be. You don’t have to be pretend to be happy in this hell hole. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I don’t care if you are nice or strong. I just care that I’m close to you.”

“You should care that I’m nice to you. ‘Cause hello, I’m lacking in that department.”

“True,” he nodded. “You can be, but I know you.” Pensive, he tilted his head to the side and studied her. She was struggling internally and he could see that. Her heart was beating fast and her face was flush. He wanted to give her an opportunity to figure out things for herself, but his patience was running thin.

“You don’t.”

“I don’t, do I? Then tell me this, little girl. Tell me that you don’t yearn to stay the night, that you want to be cuddled and that you feel guilty as soon as the crypt door closes.”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” she argued.

Spike looked at the night sky, praying for help. When his head swivelled back down, his eyes pinned her to her spot and he continued, “It means there is hope.”

“For what? That I join you in the dark?”

“No,” Spike refused. “That you won’t join me in the dark.”

“What?” She shook her head. “You aren’t making sense? First you fuck me in the Bronze…”

“Buffy,” his head tipped back as he gritted his teeth. “This isn’t about that. This is,” he looked at her and paused. “This is about you. In the light. Where I want to be.”

The Slayer opened her mouth and closed it once again; suddenly speechless.

“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have any loyalty to being good. I could give a flying rat’s ass about the white hats and Powers That Be. I’m in it for you. As far as I’m concerned, I know you don’t belong in the dark and I know I don’t belong in the light. What I do know,” he paused, inhaling courage. “I belong next to you and if you are in the light, where I met you, where I love you; that’s where I’m going to be. Next to you shining a bloody spot light so you are the brightest of them all.”

“Spike,” she paused in thought. “I thought you wanted Bad Buffy. All those things you whispered…”

He smiled, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight, his face suddenly took upon a younger appearance. “Can’t say I’m opposed to Bad Buffy, she’s a lot of fun, but so is Good Buffy and you know that’s who you are. Good Buffy. I wouldn’t change her for anything,” he finished quietly.

“You wouldn’t?”

He looked into her eyes, searching for her soul. “Never.”

She sighed, her eyes searching for the truth in his. “So, say that you get your one good day.” He started to protest, but she raised her hand to silence his denial. “Something happens, maybe it wasn't your good day, but you are there. I'm near death, would you?”

“Would I do what?” Spike shook his head, praying that she wouldn't ask him the one question he did not know the answer to. The one answer he did not want to think about, to analyse.

“You know... sire me.”

“Slayer,” he growled. “That's not going to happen.”

She pushed back her hair and sighed, “We both know the Slayer package has an expiration date. Hell, I've already had two expiration dates, there will be another one. You know the saying, three strikes and I'm out.”

He shook his head. “Look here, that won't happen.”

“Spike,” she paused. “Just answer the question.”

He sighed and looked back at the stars, “No.”

“No?” She was confused. “No to the…”

“No,” he said stronger. “If I had the chance, I wouldn't sire you.”

“Why not?” she was surprised. “Don't you love me?”

He rolled his eyes and sat up, his hands reaching for her. “Buffy, don't think that, please never think that. It's just...”

Tears fell down her face, “You just can't spend eternity with me? I’m that horrible?”

“No, God no!” he insisted. “If I could, I would spend ten thousand eternities with you.”

“Then why won't you turn me?”

“Buffy,” his hand caressed her cheek, wiping away her tears. “It wouldn't be you.” He paused in thought and continued. “When the demon takes over, it will take over what I love about you. It would extinguish the light that shines from your soul and through your eyes. It would change who you are, what you do. It would take your strength and kindness and fill you with hate.”

“You wouldn't like evil Buffy?” she smiled, laughter in her eyes.

He chuckled and looked down to the grass, “Don't rightly know. I bet she's a wild cat in the sack. Ride me to a gallop until I pop like warm champagne.”

“Ewwe,” she scrunched her nose up. “That's so skanky, sounds like something Faith would say.”

“Hey, you said it.”

“I did not!”

“You did, too! At the Bronze. You came up to me, all red lips and leather, teasing me to the point of distraction.”

“What? When?”

“Three years ago, after the chip was installed and I was left out on my own. You were teasing me on purpose.”

“Oh. My. God.” She closed her eyes as her face turned red in anger.

“What?” He asked, perplexed at her actions.

“It was Faith.”

“I think I know the difference between you and another Slayer.”

She suppressed her laughter, “Two words: body swap.”

“Pass that by me again?”

“Faith and the Mayor were in cahoots together.”

“Cahoots?”

“Shut up. Anyway, when she woke up from the coma, she got a present from the deceased Mayor, slash snake; a potion to body swap with me.”

“So, you're saying...” Spike's blue eyes twinkled with understanding.

“That Faith, in my body, slept with Riley, went to the Bronze, flirted and drank a lot of alcohol. Terrorized Tara and Willow and then came on to you.”

“That bitch,” Spike spat.

“Well, yeah. We’ve already established that.”

He scooted closer to her, his voice dropping low, “Do you know how many wet dreams that little encounter caused?”

“Ewwe,” Buffy looked away, “So, she's the reason why you love me?”

“Hardly,” Spike scoffed. “She just trained my mind in thinking that the Slayer was not all gross, you know fantasies and all that.”

“Uh huh, something makes me think you love Faith.”

He started to protest until he saw her trying to hide her laugh. “Why you little...”

He grabbed her shoulders, causing her to screech. She rolled on top of him, unable to stop laughing as he tickled her breathless.

“Seriously, she came onto you?” she gasped. “You looove her,” she sang.

He redoubled his efforts, pushing off the ground so they switched positions. He pinned her body to the ground with his as his fingers travelled around her rib cage, causing her to squeal. “Bloody bint, stop playing. You know who I love.”

“Faith,” she gasped as she tried to bat his hands away. She sobered when he shifted above her, his erection coming in contact with her thigh. She stopped laughing and blinked her eyes.

He looked down, his hands abandoning their travels when she stopped laughing. Her hazel eyes peered up at him and her lips puckered with want. Slowly, his face bent down to nuzzle her cheek. “Buffy,” his voice was barely a whisper.

“Sometimes I wonder,” she looked up at the sky. “All the pain and misery, what’s the point?” he stilled above her, closing his eyes as she continued, “I mean I’m the Chosen One, right? What does that mean? Am I a puppet, not in charge of my own destiny?”

“Don’t say that.” He raised his head and looked at her, still staring at the stars.

“I mean, even when I die, it’s not over. Leave it to my friends to bring me back for more of the same treatment.”

“They didn’t know, pet.” He gritted his teeth; he should’nt be sticking up for the Scoobies.

“I know,” she sighed. “I just feel like I don’t belong sometimes. It’s like the whole world keeps going, apocalypse after apocalypse and I’m still here. Stuck with one mission and one mission only.”

Spike nodded and moved off her. He rolled to one side and hooked one arm under her head. She moved to snuggle in closer.

“This is nice,” she murmured as her hand travelled to his chest.

“Talking?”

“That, but this…. all those times you tried to kill me. I would not have pegged you for a snuggler.”

He scoffed, “Snuggling is not manly. I don’t snuggle.”

“Or brood,” she added.

“Or brood,” he agreed.

“If it is any consolation, Angel wasn’t a snuggler.” He glared at her.

“Don’t mention his name,” he warned.

“Fine, fine,” she waved her hand. “No mentioning of formers. Anyway, yeah,” she nodded. “This is nice. Just laying here, relaxing. I could get used to this.”

Spike kissed her forehead, “Don’t give me ideas; I might chain you up again, this time to the bed.”

She giggled, “Where were we? Oh yeah. I just feel like everyone is changing around me, moving on. I’m here; in a little box labelled ‘Slayer’ and I don’t have anywhere else to move to.”

“You’re not just the Slayer…”

“Shh, don’t interrupt. I’m having a pif-penny thing.”

“An epiphany?”

“Yeah, that. So here I am in my box and I can’t get out; no matter what. Willow and Xander make sure I stay in that box. Lord knows that they didn’t want me at UC Sunnydale. Had to be the Slayer, not just a student.”

“You guys were just growing apart, they didn’t mean any harm.”

“True,” Buffy agreed. “But they didn’t make it easier.”

Spike exhaled loudly, “It’s the past.”

“Okay, how about now? All Willow cares about is herself. She’s never home and when she is, she’s acting strange. She doesn’t pay rent and she eats a lot of food.”

“Willow doesn’t contribute to the household?” He asked in awe.

“Tara did, but she’s not… living with us anymore. When they told me about the money and the house all of them expected me to just produce the money.”

His arms tightened around her body, trying to provide some comfort, knowing that she needed to get her emotions out.

“Then there is Dawn and the social worker. Every time I turn around Dawn’s doing something wrong or social services is calling for a home inspection. Half the time she’s pissed off that I’m not home and when I am home, she ignores me.”

“Bit’s in that stage. Remember being 15, everything is world shattering.”

“Spike,” she propped herself up, looking down at him. “When I was 15 everything was earth shattering. I was the Slayer, secret identity and etcetera.”

He smiled and ran his hand through her hair. “Imagine having a super hero as a big sister, wouldn’t you rebel?”

“Whose side are you on?” She asked skeptically.

Her vampire smiled, “Yours of course. See spotlight, you, me?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded. “I just… I always have to take care of everything. Slaying, mortgage, Dawn. When is it going to stop?”

“You forgot apocalypses.”

“And apocalypses. I feel like I can’t stop.”

“Is that why you are with me?”

Buffy became silent, her eyebrows scrunched together. After a minute she replied, “When I’m with you it feels like the world disappears. Suddenly the box is gone; I’m free to be me.”

He looked at her, suddenly speechless. She smiled and then glanced away.

“I just,” she paused in thought and then looked into his eyes. “I’m not doing too good at this. Serious conversations and Buffy are un-mixy.”

“You’re doing fine,” he supplied quietly, afraid to shock her out of her new found conversational skills.

“I keep asking myself why I crave you, your company. Why did I tell you, of all people, that I went to heaven and then swore you to secrecy?”

“Part of you wanted me to spill the beans to the kiddies.” Spike answered.

“No,” she denied.

“On some level, a small level maybe, you wanted me to tell those holier than thou friends what they did so you wouldn’t have to.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You asked me not to,” Spike smiled.

“So? I asked you a million times to leave me alone, you never listened.”

“Ah, ah, ah. True, but you were trying to keep me away. Keeping this secret, keeping it for you brought me closer. You came to me, knowing that I knew why you weren’t happy to be back, why you aren’t happy.”

She sighed, “The thing is? I think I am, happy that is. Or I’m getting there.”

His eyebrows rose in question.

“I no longer want to hide in a dark, dank corner, you know. I catch myself smiling sometimes.”

“That’s my amazing prowess making you smile.”

“Shut up,” she giggled. “See, there. A few weeks ago, I would have called you a pig, punched your nose and ran off. Now I am just mildly irritated.”

“We’re making progress,” he smirked.

“Yeah, and then… I don’t know. Something sneaks up on me and I’m back there, in that dark place. Where no one can touch me, and I lash out.”

“Like the evil un-dead comment?”

“I didn’t mean it,” she tried to explain. “I just. You’re right, you are in a box, I’m trying to pry it open, but the tape is like industrial strength or something.”

“I know,” he petted her cheek softly.

“You were so sweet to do that and I had to ruin it with the voices in my head.”

“Voices?”

She nodded, “Kinda sounds like Giles, Willow, Xander, Angel and I all rolled up into one with the judgemental comments.”

“Darn voices,” he teased. “Why do I always get stuck with the crazy bints with voices in heads like my own?”

“Hey, you comparing me to...”

“No,” Spike patted her shoulder then gradually wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I don't mean it that way. I know what you mean, though. I've got this demon whispering that what I feel is wrong.”

“To love a Slayer?”

He sighed, “To love a Slayer, to not want to bite her, her friends, hell, even the happy meals on legs. I rarely feel the desire to bite them, cause hell and mischief. I don't want to destroy the world, don't want any of what an evil vampire wants.”

“So that's the motivation behind a vampire, cause hell and mischief by feeding on the happy meals on legs?”

He rolled his eyes. “How long have you been a Slayer? You must know we aren't all alike. For instance; Angelus was all about the hunt. He liked preying on high society, fitting in and feeding off the cholesterol rich blood, raping the most innocent. He liked to visit the church and orphanages, play mind games with the fragile. Darla was into having all the riches in the world and serving her Master.”

“Ewwe, fruit punch mouth. Someone needed to see a dentist.”

“Anyway, yeah. She didn't care about anyone but herself. She used everyone to gain a high status. A true selfish bitch. Drusilla has no logic, all she wants is her daddy or when he’s unavailable, someone to take care of her.”

“A.K.A. you.”

“Not really, you know South America wasn't the first time she strayed or rubbed my nose in her activities. She has no loyalty accept to Angelus. Whoever the stars tell her is the better catch, she goes for.”

“And you? What makes you tick?”

“Love,” Spike sighed softly. “It made me offer my neck up to a strange woman's kiss of death. Love makes me travel around the world, makes my blood boil until I cannot stand it anymore. Makes me turn my back on everything I’ve been taught, everything I am. Just to sit next to the sun and feel her heat.”


a/n: Reviews? See author's note above.

Chapter 6

The cool wind whipped through her hair, tangling with unseen fingers. Gripping tighter, Buffy scooted closer to Spike on the narrow seat. While on the cliff, the temperature cooled; a storm front heading into the area. He sacrificed his jacket to her, adamant that he was not affected by the cooler temperature. He carefully slid her arms into the sleeves, folding the fabric until her tiny hands were visible. Kissing each hand reverently, he went to the task of buttoning her chest closed only to notice she slyly unbuttoned them before she settled behind him. Pulling herself closer, despite the thick leather lapels, she pressed her nose into his spine, inhaling his scent.

His muscles tightened and relaxed as he continued to guide the bike back to Sunnydale, despite her protests to stay at the cabin. She was needed home. Even her patented pout had no effect on him as he pulled her back into the forest and towards the cabin. She tried to coax him with promised sexual favours, only to be rebuffed. He refused her offer for a blow job and even her crass plea for him to stick it in her ass. He was not budging, she had to go home and she had to do it now. She swore to him, her promises and pleas were a one time thing; his smirk revealing he didn’t believe a word of it and knew she would be asking for something similar soon.

Hiding time was over, he said. Time to get back to real life and forget the fantasy the cabin afforded them. She wiggled against him, her hand exploring the muscular terrain of his body, squeezing and teasing where she could. She felt his lust grow as she continued trying to persuade him in to staying at the cabin, only for him to clench his jaw and ignore her ministrations.

Surprisingly, they entered Sunnydale without much of a bang; Spike drove past the city sign without even throwing a rock at the stupid smiling sun mascot. The bike ran through the quiet streets all too quickly, pulling into her driveway. The house was lit, light blaring in each room.

“Don’t they know electricity costs money?” She received the feeling of his silent chuckle, his head shaking as he kicked the motorcycle back on its stand. Holding on to him, she buried her face in his back once more, afraid to let go, afraid to keep her secrets hidden. She felt his muscles relax, enjoying her sudden change of heart by holding him in public.

She lifted her head and looked at the back of the house, Dawn’s shadow appearing in front of the sink, obviously doing dishes and anxiously waiting for her missing sister to return. She must be worried sick, Buffy paused. Would it be terrible if she just stayed out here and never faced the music? No, she needed to strong, needed to be there for Dawn.

“I need to go,” she whispered, hating the tears in her eyes. She hated everything now, anticipation of the lectures and hurtful glances ruining any joy she’d found at the cabin.

“Bit’s waiting for you. Better get a move on.” His body slumped as she started to get off the bike. “Just tell them we had to track down some snarling thing and ended up stuck by the day. No big deal, right?”

“Spike?” She said without thinking, she needed to stop thinking and start doing. Change the inside and now change the outside. “Come in.”

Startled, Spike cocked his head to the side and bit his lip. “Don’t worry, Slayer; I’ll back you up if they come a’asking.”

“No,” Buffy shook her head. “Don’t come in to back me up or to protect me from Dawn’s rampant teenage hormones. Come in because…”

His chest tightened, sudden pants leaving his dead lungs and he waited with baited breath. “Because?”

“Just because. No postponing the inevitable, no avoiding the gazes and accusations. Go in there not as my patrol partner, not as a vampire but as Spike. Spike and Buffy walking into the house.”

“That’s what you want?” he asked, still confused but more than a little fascinated with her proposal.

“No,” she denied.

Momentarily shocked, he paused and nodded. “Well, then. Better be off. Got cards to play and kittens to trade. Just hand over my coat and I’ll be gone.”

“No,” she tugged on his arm. “You don’t understand!” She stomped her foot and threw her hands in the air. She noticed Dawn’s shadow pause; her ears must have heard their discussion. “What I want is to walk in there, kiss you in front of everyone, declare that you are my boyfriend and they can stuff it if they don’t like it.” Pleasantly shocked, Spike almost lost his balance. “But I know I can’t. It wouldn’t be good.”

“You’re the Slayer; you can do anything,” Spike scoffed. Inside, the poet and demon rejoiced, she was handing him something she never did: a crumb.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy huffed and swept her hair behind her ears. “God, stop being so macho and just listen. If I go in there, shove it in their face that I’m all with the Spike horizontals and kissage, all I’m going to hear is that it’s wrong. Xander is going to pipe up about Angel turning all Angelus and that you have to be undead to get under my sheets. Willow is going to magick herself up a solution, probably including a ball of sunlight, you and wiping my memories so I’ll be the prefect Slayer.”

“Don’t forget verticals, they’re my favorite,” Spike mentioned as he lit a cigarette, idly watching Dawn’s shadow inch towards the back door, obviously listening to their argument. Buffy was getting sloppy, he mused. Allowing a discussion like this so close to the house, to the people she was trying to protect herself from. And now the Bit was intently listening, scheming to use the information to her betterment. He watched as she bent in front of the door, hiding her person from their view as the door creaked open slightly.

Running her hands through her hair, Buffy realized she was wearing his duster. Wrapping her arms around her, she stepped away and glared at him. “If you won’t take this seriously, mister, there will be no horizontals and no verticals for a long time.” Inhaling deeply, she paused and cocked her head to the side, clearly deep in thought. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

Quickly moving his gaze from the back door, Spike shrugged. “Isn’t the roses and champagne I envisioned.”

“For God’s sake, it isn’t a proposal.” Smirking, Spike ran his hand down his chest and hooked his thumb in his jeans pocket. “Stop being a jerk just because suddenly not so little ears decided to find their way out on the back porch to eavesdrop. I’m trying to do this, trying to be better… not hiding, no more secrets. Either you want to walk into that house with me and move forward. Or you want to stand out here and continue to argue.”

Suddenly they both saw a whirl of color and heard the sound of the back door slamming shut. Dawn ran into the house, leaving them alone once again. Smirking, he sauntered back to the bike and leaned on the seat. “Looks like someone’s getting sloppy.”

Rolling her eyes, she shuffled her feet and quickly took off the duster. “Here,” she tossed it towards him. “A normal person would think… ‘Hey, Buffy knows her sister is being a sneak and listening into her conversation, and yet, she doesn’t seem to care and pretty much says that we’ve been sleeping together. But, yeah… it must be because she’s sloppy’ and it isn’t because… oh, she’s tried of keeping all these secrets!”

Gobsmacked, Spike dropped his duster as he stood and quickly picked up. She turned away and started to walk towards the back door when he called out, “If we do this… if I walk in there… no more games. No more going back. I won’t be trapped in a box titled ‘Secret’ and I won’t just walk away.”

Turning around, she crossed her arms in front of her. “And?”

“What happens in five minutes when Red and the Whelp get into your head and suddenly ole’ Spike doesn’t look so good, once you’re convinced he no longer has feelings?”

Shaking her head, she held her hand out, “I don’t know… all I do know is… I can’t go keep going on like this, like we have in the past. I want to find out what the future may hold?”

“Together?” He moved forward, holding his duster in his left hand. She nodded and took a hold of his right hand. Moving in unison, they stepped up the stairs towards the door.

~*~*~

Standing quietly in the kitchen while looking out the window, Willow was deep in thought. Dawn just ran up the stairs, fighting teenage tears as her dream of being Spike’s girlfriend were officially squashed when Buffy announced her relationship to the group.

“Hey,” Buffy stopped in front of her friend, the kitchen island between them. “I know it’s a lot to…”

“You think?” Willow chirped. “I just don’t understand… all this time; why didn’t you tell me?”

Looking down at her hands, Buffy shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly?” At Willow’s nod, she continued. “Don’t know. Guess I didn’t want to hear any objections.”

Standing up, the young witch started to pace. “But all this time, Buffy. All the secrecy. We didn’t know what was going on, where you were at night and… you’ve been with Spike this whole time.”

Shrugging, the Slayer denied, “Not all the time. Sometimes I was just… around.”

“Didn’t you trust me?”

“Maybe I didn’t want to see all of the disapproving looks and pitying stares.”

“Like what?”

Gesturing towards her, she commented, “Like now. It’s all about how Buffy messed up again and how she isn’t the perfect Slayer.” Inhaling, she blurted, “I like Spike.”

Pausing in front of her friend, Willow plopped on a stool. “Like like-like him?”

Buffy raised her gaze and looked directly into Willow’s eyes. “Like-like him.”

Nodding, “Good.”

“Good?” Buffy was shocked.

“Yeah, good. I’m glad that you like-like him since you just announced that you two were sleeping together and everyone could bite you, but not in the vampire sense. It wouldn’t be of the good if you didn’t like-like him and were just using him.”

Agreeing, the Slayer nodded slowly. “I know.”

“You aren’t using him, are you?” Willow whispered.

Shaking her head, “No, not anymore… at first… he made me feel… I… didn’t feel anything after…”

“We ripped you from eternal peace?” The witch offered, looking guilty.

“Yeah… and he helped… and I felt… and he felt… and we felt… and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Like me with witchcraft.” Willow added knowingly. “Addicted. Are you still addicted?”

“Addicted in the healthy way, like as in I don’t want to hide in the shadows and beat up my lover kind of way.”

“I know I’d be addicted to the stamina,” Anya breezed into the kitchen and set a plate on the counter. She turned around and looked at the two girls’ shocked faces. “What? Everyone knows vampires have great stamina. Not to mention, they don’t quit until the job is done, very admirable. I know I wish….”

“Stop!” Buffy spoke up. “No wishing!”

Anya shut her mouth and shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, we should have known. She’s been all glowy lately.”

“Now that you’ve said it,” Willow agreed.

“Said what?” Xander stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a cookie from the cookie jar.

“We should have known Spike and Buffy have been sharing orgasms because she’s been glowing.”

“No!” Xander shook her head and covered his ears with his hands. “I don’t want to know. I’m moving permanently to Egypt, I’ve heard they have a lovely river.”

Anya pouted while Willow glared at her childhood friend as the Slayer sighed.

“Xander!” Willow screeched. “We are being supportive and not judgemental.”

“Hey, not being judgemental. Nothing to be judgemental about. Nothing is going on. Buffy is still sixteen.” Buffy scoffed. “And not interested in boys, there is no such thing as demons and vampires and we do not live on the Hellmouth.”

“First off,” the Slayer stood her ground. “If you think I wasn’t interested in boys when I was sixteen, you’re crazy. Second, I’m dating a vampire and I protect the Hellmouth from opening.”

Spike stepped from behind the young man and commented, “We protect the Hellmouth.”

“We protect the Hellmouth.” Buffy amended and stepped beside him, her hand finding his.

“Oh, God!” Xander backed away from the supernatural couple. “You… and her!”

Looking at each other, the two had no idea what Xander was talking about and shrugged their shoulders. Spike’s hand disengaged from hers so he could wrap his arm around her shoulder, amazed that he had not woken from his wonderful dream yet.

“No, no invisible sex. No! I wasn’t there, I didn’t see…. Tell me I didn’t see you and him…”

Trying not to laugh, Buffy hid her face in Spike’s shoulder. Finally feeling whole even as she hid her smile. Revealing hidden secrets definitely did good for her soul.

The End.

A/N: Reviews are encouraged. If you liked this story, please read my other work or visit my webpage www.geocities.com/karbear57.