PROLOGUE

All demons across land and seas know the legend of the greatest of all vampire slayers. Many brag over a drink to have seen her, met her, or were bold enough to say that they had been one of the very few to have survived fighting her. But when pressed, any details of their tall tale were always sketchy at best. She was blonde, brunette, a red head. She was tall, short, plump, pear shaped. No matter the rumored particulars, all knew that she had closed the notorious Hellmouth. However, as with other details, no one could remember the exact location that this infamous event took place, but all knew that she was the only slayer that lived long enough to retire in the same unnamed town that once housed the portal to hell. As a glitch in the death of slayers, a second slayer was also present at the fight to seal the Hellmouth but didn’t survive the battle. A new slayer was called and attempted to live up to the formidable standards set by the slayer of all slayers.

Among the demons that vaguely remembered the legend, only one could recall the exact details about the most powerful slayers. He had also fought in the final battle to conquer the Hellmouth. This master vampire, infamous in his own right, had gone against his nature and his kind, worked along her side killing demons, loved her every breath, and when the Hellmouth was finally sealed, he respected the slayer’s wish, and as a consequence, he willingly lost her forever.

**************

Chapter 1 – The Past and Present

Sunnydale, May 13, 2003

Spike stood in Sunnydale High School, bruised and with blood flowing from numerous injuries. His surroundings also displayed signs of a viscous battle. The First Evil had been defeated and the Hellmouth permanently closed. The white hats had won but paid a dreadfully high price for their victory over evil. Both human and demon, bodies lay everywhere, a grotesque testimony to an incredible conflict. Among the dead was Dawn, Xander, Willow, Anya, Faith, Giles, Wood, and the slayers-in-training. All were dead except three victors, who were now standing close to where the Hellmouth had just been sealed. Each numbly surveyed the aftermath with tears rolling down their faces. Spike knelt down, one arm hanging broken at his side and a deep gash in his forehead, and Angel sat against a wall holding his broken leg and one shoulder out of socket. Both vampires watched as Buffy, hair matted in blood, stood over her best friends, sister, and watcher, silently sobbing.

“You’ve won. You’ve saved the world – again.” All three looked over to where the demon, Whistler, had suddenly appeared.

“Nice of you to join us, mate. Who the bloody hell are you?” The blonde vampire spat.

“Whistler,” Angel snarled. “You bastard. You could have come sooner and helped instead of standing back to congratulate anyone that survived.”

The demon ignored the vampires’ hostility and slowly walked over to where the devastated slayer stood. Buffy never looked up from Willow and Xander bodies, even when he stood a foot away. “I’m not here to congratulate. The Powers That Be sent me here to reward.”

Spike stood up, anger radiating off his body. “I think I speak for us all when I say FUCK OFF!”

“Normally I would have a witty comeback,” Whistler flippantly answered, “but I just don’t think that would be appreciated right now.”

Angel growled, “Spike’s right. Fuck off.”

So that he could see all three, Whistler turned away from Buffy. “As I said, I am here on their behalf to reward you three.” He held up his hand before Spike could interrupt again. “They want to grant each of you a wish.”

“What? Now you’re a bloody genie?”

“Of sorts.” Whistler nodded his head, ready to conduct business. “Angel, I think I already know what you want.”

Leaving no doubt, Angel’s reply was quick and firm. “Shanshu.”

“They thought so, but they want to leave you the vampiric strength and healing so you can still fight the good fight. If that is ok with you.” Whistler watched Angel nod in agreement before he continued. “I’m sending you home where you will feel like you are waking up.” Giving him a half smile. “Tomorrow morning, the fang gang will remember a grand battle from the night before, where you shanshu at the end.” Whistler raised his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, Angel was gone. Moving on, he turned. “Spike?”

The blonde vampire shook his head before motioning toward Buffy. “Let the lady go next.”

Tilting his head slightly to acknowledge Spike’s request, Whistler turned and studied Buffy, who had so far ignored his abrupt appearance completely. “They think they already know what you want also, Slayer, since you have wanted and strived for it over the past seven years. All I need is your confirmation.”

Never taking her gaze from the carnage, Buffy nodded her head once. He raised his hand, but then paused. “The Powers That Be congratulate you, Slayer. You were the best, which the slayers that follow can only strive to emulate your example. You, too, will wake up tomorrow morning, safe in your bed and will remember none of this.” With a sluggish motion, as if regretting what he was to do, he raised his hand. But before he completed him motion, Buffy finally looked up and over at Spike. The last things she saw, before she too was gone, were anguished, blue eyes.

The vampire wiped tears from his face again before asking the demon in a horse voice, “What did she wish for?”

Ignoring Spike’s question, Whistler turned his attention to him. “You are different than the other two. The Powers That Be don’t know what you will choose.”

Battered and in pain, mentally and physically, Spike took a shaky step towards the cocky, little man. “What did she ask for?”

Tilting his head as if assessing the vampire, Whistler again ignored his question. “I would have bet that you would wish for the slayer to love you or something like that, but they,” he pointed towards the sky, “thought you wouldn’t want her that way. You would only be happy if she loved you of her own free will.”

“No. I’ve had her as the result of a spell before. I want her and always will, but not with magic.” Spike took another step, trying to use the last of his energy in an effort to appear somewhat menacing. “What. Was. Her. Wish?”

“Ok. What could it hurt, but I would have thought you could guess. After all, you did understand her better than anyone else.” Whistler shrugged. “The slayer has always wanted to be a normal girl with a normal life, and that’s what they gave her.” He started to pace around, casually surveying the destruction. “Oh, the world will still be the same. Still demons, still vampires, still a slayer that closed the Hellmouth. Nothing will change except her life, and those that know her. Their memories and therefore their lives will be as if Buffy was never called to be the Chosen One.”

Trying to blink back the tears, Spike whispered, “And demons? Me?”

Stopping his circuit around the area, Whistler sympathetically looked at the vampire. “No humans but demons will still know. In a way, they will have faint memories but no details. The Powers That Be don’t want to completely erase her memory or her impressive accomplishments. That would almost be sacrilegious to her spectacular feats. For instance, Angel will just remember her as a story told to him by someone else, told to that person by someone else. Well, you get the point. Same for you. As with any other demon, you will know about this infamous slayer, have heard of her but never met her in person.”

The demon watched the vampire tightly close his eyes. When a single tear squeezed its way out from between his lids and down his face, Spike impatiently wiped it away before looking back at Whistler. “I want to remember.”

Whistler was stumped. “But you won’t.”

“You said I could choose my reward, and that’s my wish. Tell whoever’s up there that I want to remember her. Not forget one minute or one, bloody detail.”

“But you can’t…” Suddenly stopping, Whistler looked up at the sky, apparently listening to a voice only he could hear. When he looked back at Spike, his face showed his surprise. “They agree. They will leave your memories intact, but there is a catch. To respect Buffy’s wish, and I am guessing that you would want to do that, you can’t tell anyone what only you will remember. If you do spill to her or anyone else, everything for her will revert to as it was.”

Spike nodded, showing that he understood and agreed to the terms, and then watched the representative of the Powers That Be raise his hand one last time before he too disappeared. The next morning, Spike woke up in a motel several miles outside of Sunnydale with his car parked in front of his room, but the wanker demon was true to his word. Spike had all his memories of Sunnydale, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and the feelings of losing her for the second time. He spent the night half-heartedly trying to decide where to go, and when night fell, still undecided on a destination; he drove off, keeping Sunnydale and Buffy at his back.

*****

Sacramento, September, 2004

Killing time, Beth wandered down the upper level of one of Sacramento’s mall. The beautiful blonde stopped to look in a shoe store’s window, chuckled at a frumpy clothing store and then wander past a busy music store. Something bright caught her eye which made her curious enough that she stepped back a couple of paces to see into the music store’s window again.

Looking over the various aisles of CD’s, Beth found what caught her eye originally. Mega bright hair. Actually, it was a guy with hair that was slightly mussed and so close to white that it appeared almost colorless. Stepping closer to the window, she studied him. The stranger, dressed in black from head to toe, was holding a CD, reading the back before putting it back to pick up another. Just looking at him through the window made the butterflies in her stomach start to do the cha cha.

Without consciously making the decision to enter the store or remembering how she got there, Buffy found herself standing next to the man with the bleached hair and black leather duster. He was gorgeous even in profile. “Uh…excuse me.” She could see the stranger freeze, tensing at the sound of her voice. Her quandary was that he didn’t seem to be a stranger to her. “Er…do I know you?”

Buffy waited for him to react, either speaking or some subtle sign that he was going to just flat out ignore her and her forwardness. Judging from the fascinating side view of this guy, she wasn’t the first girl to use a line to meet him. ‘Hi! I’m Bambi. Have we met?’ Chastising herself that she shouldn’t care, Buffy quickly glanced down at his left hand hanging at his side to make sure he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. She let out the breath she shouldn’t be holding. Those butterflies needed to breathe, too, but thank god, no band on his third finger. She checked both to make sure.

When she glanced back up, she found herself staring into his face now turned to her. Taken aback, Buffy discovered that his striking profile didn’t compare to his gorgeous face. Chiseled cheekbones, an intriguingly, scared eyebrow, and enticing lips. However, more than any of his features, she was drawn into the depths of his eyes. Stunning, intense, blue eyes. She wondered how she could ever forget those eyes if she had seen them before, and as she did gazed into them, she felt her memories stir with a faint recognition.

Finally thawing her frozen voice, she sputtered out a clumsy explanation before she could get lost in his eyes again. “I know that line sounded cheesy, but you really look kinda déjà vu to me. I’m not trying to be all stalkish or anything, but you looked so familiar that I just had to come in and ask.”

When the voice first spoke next to his left shoulder, trying to get his attention, Spike thought that he was dreaming of the voice that visited him every time he slept. But when the voice continued, he froze, recognizing the pick up line but telling himself that it wasn’t the slayer asking, just some pathetic girls trolling the mall.

Creeped out enough to not care what she looked like, he turned his head to give her the brush off. However, when Spike looked into the girl’s guileless, hazel eyes, his brain stalled out causing him to almost miss her explanation. Son of a bloody bitch but the slayer was standing in front of him babbling about déjà vu. He was so freaked that he started to laugh in her face but caught himself.

Drinking in her beloved face so close to him, he saw the slayer with no hardness or sadness in her eyes and an obvious zest for living. How he wanted to lean down and kiss those lips, but he knew he couldn’t go against her wish. But he knew that just meeting her face to face, this new, unspoiled version of Buffy, could put her new world in jeopardy.

“No, luv, you wouldn’t know me.” He forced himself to turn away and look back at the CD in his hand.

Buffy wasn’t sure what to make of him. At first, looking at her, his eyes widened in surprise but then shifted into sorrow. Maybe, she optimistically thought, it was regret in not recognizing her. “Are you sure? You look so familiar. It’s been a long time since I have been in Sacramento, but we could have met before.”

He didn’t dare look back at her, willing himself to stay firm. “No, pet, you don’t know me at all.”

“Oh, sorry to bug you then.” She turned to walk away. “I’ll just be taking my mortification and leaving…” But her feet felt like led. Before her embarrassment swept her away out of the store, she whirled back around and was surprised to catch the man, with shoulders now slumped, rubbing his temples and forehead as if trying to rid himself of an agonizing headache. Unexpectedly concerned, Buffy took a step towards him. “I…uh…I’m not from here and need to kill some time. Therefore, I’ve been wandering around this mall, and I saw this café-like shop and I am thirsty and I…look, do you want to come get a cuppa with me?” Buffy finished and held her breath, waiting to hear his answer to her fumbling invitation.

Livid, Spike fought down a nearly overwhelming urge to slam the CD against the nearest wall. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Four hundred seventy-six days before, Whistler had told him…no, stressed to him that it shouldn’t and couldn’t happen. But on the other hand, the Powers That Be should have known that he and his slayer, however accidentally, individually or together, would defy the rules of the cosmic game - again. Why should he be surprised?

Spike told himself to not even glance at her. Stay away from temptation. No, no, you can’t give in. No, no, no. But then he looked at her hopeful, upturned face and heard himself answer, “Yes.” Bloody hell. Now he was the one holding his breath, waiting for lightening to strike him down. But the destructive zap of electricity didn’t come. Maybe a couple of minutes wouldn’t hurt cosmic history, he rationalized, as he watched a smile light up her face.

*****

At a shopping mall, in a poor excuse for a Starbucks, Spike sat at a small, metal table, looking at the slayer, who didn’t remember ever being a slayer. The same slayer, who didn’t remember that he had loved her, didn’t know that he had never stopped loving her, and wouldn’t know.

The silence made Buffy even more nervous than she already was. Other than ordering his drink, the hottie sitting across from her hadn’t spoken since agreeing to go with her to the coffee shop. “Well, I’m from Sunnydale, and I’m in town visiting my dad.” The stranger just sat staring at her, leaving her struggling for something else she could say to start up a conversation. “I didn’t introduce myself, did I? I’m Elizabeth Summers, but I go by Beth. What should I call you besides quiet?” She was relieved when, her gentle tease was rewarded by a half-smile which only enhanced his drool-worthy, good looks.

“Sp...” The vampire caught himself before giving the name that could possibly trigger one of the memories she had chosen to forget. Other than vaguely recognizing him, he didn’t know if he could accidentally revive the past for her by a word or action from him, but he wouldn’t take any chances. The PTB had even changed her name from Buffy to Beth. “You can call me William, and maybe I’ll answer.” Well, it was at least the truth, and the slayer had only called him that once. Regardless, he wanted to stay as close to the truth as possible.

Both gave half smiles acknowledging their appreciation. “Ok, I can call you William, and I’m Beth. Obstacle one - Find out each other’s names. Check. The next obstacle is to start some kind of conversation. I’m going to go out on a very narrow limb here, but I don’t think you have any ideas, do you?”

Content to just look at her, Spike shook his head signally, “no,” while never taking his blue eyes off her face.

“So, William, are you a native to Sacramento?”

Now that got Spike’s attention, startling him back to her question. Then he chuckled, “No, pet, I most certainly am not from around this area.”

Embarrassed, Buffy bit her lower lip for a moment. “British accent ergo British. Ergo not from California. Why don’t we go back to safer topics, like the weather, before I dig my pit of ignorance any deeper?” Buffy plastered a Hollywood smile on her face and went for the absurd to chip away at his layer of ice. “Let’s guess what type of underwear the people passing by are wearing. I’ll start. Those high school girls are definitely wearing thongs. They’re hoping that tonight that they may get lucky and someone will see them.” She looked back at him who had raised his eyebrow in interest. Time to move on from other girls. “Oh, that older guy in the checkered shirt, he’s a boxer man. Probably ironed.” His laugh made her bolder. “Look at that goth chick. She’s wearing hot pink underwear to match her hair, but I bet her panties are probably held together by safety pins. Ouch. Probably why she is frowning.”

William surprised her when he made his own speculation. “Look at Mr. Muscles to your right. The wanker is compensating for a small pecker. He’s wearing lace knickers with a garter belt and stockings.” After her gasp, he joined her laughing as they watched the rear view of the alleged cross dresser.

After blue hairs, snooty upper crust, and soccer moms, the silliness paid off. ‘Laughter obtained. Ice successfully broken,’ Beth thought as she listened to his melodic laugh.

“So what’s a hottie like you do for a living? Model or something?” Her face was an instant, bright red. ‘Oh my god. I can’t believe the word ‘hottie’ just came out of my mouth, not to mention asking him if he is a model.’ She hoped that pit of ignorance would go ahead and swallow her whole.

However, Spike wasn’t so much concerned about what she had said, but instead, he was trying to decide how to reply as to his profession. It couldn’t hurt to tell what he had been doing for the past year, Spike thought, especially since it wasn’t related to demons. After all, he had begun his new profession, the only profession he ever had, after the last battle in Sunnydale. “No, no modeling. I’m a skipper tracer.” He hadn’t expected her to know what that profession entailed, but her look of confusion was adorable. “A skip finder is called if someone doesn’t pay up on their bond. See, when people are thrown in jail but can’t afford the bail to get them out, the family or a friend goes to a bondsman, who loans the money to make the bail. Hence, bondsmen are like mosquitoes. They fly around the people that are easy prey, and then suck them dry by the percentage of the loan as payment. When the bail is made, the indicted man can leave jail until trial. If the perp doesn’t show, the skip tracer is called to hunt him down and drag his or her arse back to jail.”

Beth hated it, but she had to interrupt him. “Damn! This timing is soo way bad because I really didn’t want our conversation to end so quickly, but I have to meet my father in that Italian restaurant across the street, Antonio’s, right about, oh, five minutes ago. A side dish of ass chewing is probably waiting for me now, and I just want enough of my ass left to sit on when I drive back to Sunnydale tomorrow.” Looking at her watch one more time with obvious regret but continuing to freak, Buffy started to pick up her jacket, purse and grabbed her coffee for the road. “I know I am going to sound like I am being forward again because…I guess I really am. When I visit Dad again soon, and I stress soon, would you like to meet again maybe for dinner or something more than coffee?” Adding to herself, ‘And entailing more time.’

Balls, the slayer still had one weapon after all. When Beth gave him her puppy dog eyes, Spike wanted to agree to anything she asked.

When he didn’t immediately answer, she assumed he was trying to find a polite way to refuse, so she doubled her effort. Shrugging a shoulder, she gave him her best smile, leaving no room for doubt that it was only meant for him.

With more fortitude than he thought he possessed, Spike pulled himself together. “I am sorry, luv. It wouldn’t be good for us to see each other again, especially for you. You’ll never know just how sorry I am because I have to tell you no, but I’m unfortunately not someone you need to spend time with.”

Heedless of his words, Buffy knew that with a little work, she could turn his “no” into a “yes,” but for now she could tell he was firm in his answer. Not to mention, she had to go and meet her father. Instead she decided to give into her temptation since she first sat down at the table with him, which was to touch this striking man with the sad eyes in a small effort to comfort whatever made him so gloomy. She lay her hand on his leather clad arm, “Thanks, William, for keeping me company. And no, I won’t tell you what kind of underwear I am wear, so no speculating on me.” She gave him a wink, and tenacious to a fault, she hurried away already planning how she would find a way to see him again.

Spike stayed at the table to finish his drink and to think about slayers. Spike kept track of slayers out of habit. The one after Buffy and Faith only lasted 4 months. The current one was now in the Middle East with her watcher, since the demons were drawn to the turmoil in that region of the world. However, his thoughts always returned to his slayer, Buffy. His last sight of her at the Hellmouth was burned onto his soul, the soul he had gotten for her. It wasn’t the blood and injuries that stood out in that last moment they shared before Whistler made her disappear; it was the expression on her face, the weariness and the profound anguish. But now Spike sat at a little table in a coffee shop located in a shopping mall, staring down at where Buffy, now Beth, had touched his duster’s sleeve and stored away precious images along with the other memories of his slayer.

TBC

Ok, I need some feedback here. Please let me know what you think. As I said before, this story has been an obsession, I would like to know if I am crazy not. : )

MadRog
madrog@ev1.net

Chapter 2 Reluctance

A phone rang unanswered on the top floor of a well maintained building in the southern outskirts of Sacramento, California. The three story, turn of the century structure was constructed of deep-red bricks, which encased large windows. On the east side a few decorative stained-glass panels lit up in the morning glow of the sun.

The bottom floor housed a mortuary that had been operating there since the building was originally constructed. The mortician, who was also the owner of the building, resided with his family on the second floor. And for the past year, Spike called the top floor home. He rented the loft for an excellent rate, but of course, who else but a vampire would want to live above a mortuary. The vampire’s living arrangement was especially convenient in that his landlord was half demon and happy to provide his tenant blood drained from his deceased customers, which would otherwise be disposed of. As a result, Spike was pleased to no longer drink pig’s blood or deal with curious butchers.

In the loft, Spike’s current décor had a more modern feel than his crypt had back in Sunnydale, before it was blown up by an impotent, intruding GI. Leaving the nineteenth century of his birth behind, the vampire joined the twenty-first century with clean lines and curves, leather furniture, and a kitchen of stainless steel and black granite, equipped with all the newest appliances. The colors were predominately black, of course, with accents of rich blues and greens. His floor still had the loft’s original wood throughout, and the few plain accent rugs were kept to a minimal. He had decided against replacing his oriental rugs because they would only remind him of Buffy, such as lying under them with her after one of their heated moments together. And since that only caused him pain, any such objects were banned from his current residence. He could live and even savor his memories of her, but direct reminders made his memories feel more like open wounds again. If he wanted to see outside during the day, his windows had roll-up shades that were heavily tinted, but still translucent. To block out all light, if preferred, heavy black drapes with blue and green stripes hung from the ceiling to floor.

Overall, Spike was pleased with the updated flat. Happy, that is, with all except the sodding cell phone, which was currently sitting in its charger in the living room. It’s persistent ringing insisted on waking him up.

Opening one eye to glance at his clock beside the bed, the vampire growled when he saw that it was only eleven in the morning. The job he had been on the night before had taken until five A.M, and he hadn’t made it to bed until seven-thirty, leaving only three and a half hours of sleep. Well aware that Spike only worked at night and not questioning why due to his impressive results, all the bail bondsmen that used his services knew the unwritten law to not call before three in the afternoon. In fact, he had violently reinforced that rule on more than one occasion when he had first entered the profession, helping to spread the word through the grapevine to others in the business. But eleven o’clock in the AM? He didn’t have a clue who wanted the impending pounding, but he really didn’t care. So he left the caller to be handled by his voice mail. The pillock could leave a message and then maybe later, if he was in a better mood, he would ring them back.

When the phone stopped its annoying racket, Spike rolled over onto his side and tried to go back to sleep.

No such bleedin’ luck. On the first ring, Spike surged out of bed. “The bugger must have nuts the size of billiard balls, but I’m about to cut the bloody things off with a dull, cerated blade.” Jerking the phone out of its cradle, the vampire growled as he hit the button to answer the call. “WHAT?”

“Uh…hi?…I’m looking for William, and I was given this number.”

“Who?” At first he was taken back by the female voice on the other end of the line, and the sleepy vampire was stumped. She certainly didn’t sound like a bail bondsman, and who the hell was she looking for? But then that “Oh, shit” feeling started churning in his stomach.

“His name is William.” The voice on the phone now sounded more confident. “I don’t know his last name, but he has bleached hair, these really blue eyes, and a British accent. Maybe you know him?”

When he identified with certainty the voice on the other end of the line, Spike felt his anger at being woken up deflate as the “Oh, shit,” turned into a “Bloody Hell”. ‘What do you do now, you sodding ninny?’ He wondered as he began to pace. Luckily he hadn’t said enough for her to catch his accent.

“Hello?…Are you still there?”

“Yes.” Cringing, Spike hoped his attempt at an American accent fooled her.

On her end, Beth was becoming thoroughly confused. She paused to regroup but wasn’t giving up over this small obstacle. “Well, do you know him or not? He’s so not the type of guy you would forget.”

“Hold on.” Spike bought some time. Damn, even with the four words he had said so far, he did a lousy American accent and was even worse at lying, especially to the slayer. He had to find a way to climb out from between this current rock and a hard place, fast. Unfortunately, the only idea that came to mind was wrong, wrong, wrong. He was fit for the loony bin if he thought he could talk with Beth again and not make a slip revealing the true past. No bloody way. Totally fucking impossible. Absolutely, positively not.

‘Bloody hell,’ he thought, ‘I never could resist a challenge or Buffy. That Whistler bloke said I couldn’t tell anyone about the slayer, but he didn’t say I couldn’t talk to her. Just not remind her of her real past.’

“Beth? Sorry to make you wait. I just woke up, and I’m still a little foggy.”

“William? Oh, I’m so glad this was the right number.”

“How *did* you get my number?” Not that Beth could see the gesture, Spike raised an eyebrow, accentuating his question.

“Elementary, Watson. I know, cliché much? Anyway, you said you worked for bail bond guys, so I started calling the ones in the yellow pages until I found one that recognized your description.”

“Resourceful,” Spike commented while he wondered which bugger he needed to remind with a fist to the face that he liked his privacy. Well, Beth was an exception to his no early calls rule. “So what can I do for you, luv?”

“I called because…uh…See, I’m in town again and thought we could meet for dinner or something…Since you’re the only one I know in Sacramento besides my dad and he has a business dinner tonight and I have to eat and don’t know which restaurants are good or which are bad…Babbling now which is definitely of the bad. Shutting up now.”

Spike laughed. “So in an abridged version, you want to meet for dinner.”

“Let me say ‘huh?’ on the abridged, but yes on the meeting for dinner part.”

Unable to refuse her any longer, the vampire resigned himself to that a jump from that infamous frying pan into the fire. “Ok, pet, where are you staying?” Spike gave her directions to a Mexican restaurant located close to her father’s house where she was staying and told her that he would meet her at seven. As he ended the call, he was already kicking himself for not saying six-thirty or six even.

*****

For another good reason, Spike arrived at the Mexican restaurant early. Not wanting to accidentally break his agreement with Whistler, he needed to park the DeSoto a couple of blocks away, hiding it from Beth’s view. And shock of all shocks to anyone who knew him, he had left his duster at the loft, let his hair curl on the top instead of slicking all of it back. He dug out of his closet the few clothes he owned that were not black, which was a dark purple, button down shirt, blue instead of black jeans. However, he stuck to Doc Martens, just brown shoes instead of black boots. And just so that the vampire would still feel all big bad, he wore black briefs. Lame but he felt a little better.

Now Spike was standing outside the restaurant, pacing. Well after the appointed time, he started to convince himself that her phone call had been a new version of a wet dream, but then he recognized an older, green Jeep SUV approaching. He should have guessed Beth would be driving Joyce’s old car, he thought as he headed toward where she was parking.

Spike met her before she could make it out of the car, and Beth looked up with a warm smile when she saw him. “Hi and sorry. Ms. Late Girl is finally here. Since I haven’t been to Sacramento very many times, I’m still pathetic at finding my way around this large town.”

“No problem, pet. I’m in no hurry.” Looking fondly at the Joyce’s car one more time, Spike shut her door after she got out. “Like your car.”

“Thanks. I’ve always loved it, and when Mom bought a new car last December, she gave this one to me as sort of a oversized Christmas gift.”

Startled, Spike nearly stumbled into her. He had expected her reply to include a mention of Joyce, but not in that way. “What did you say?”

“What part?” She tried to think of what she had said to cause such a shocked look on his face. Surely she hadn’t put her foot in her mouth. At least not yet.

“The mum part.”

“You know, it’s that lady that was pushing when you were born. I promise everyone has one, and mine’s back in Sunnydale.” Instead of laughing, he looked even more stunned. “Hellooo. Zone much? That was a joke. Pretty good one, I thought.” Beth shrugged.

After a couple of false starts, sound finally came out of Spike’s mouth. “Your mum...I…uh…thought your mum was dead.”

As they entered the restaurant and waited to be shown to a table, Beth took a turn at being shocked. “Mom dead? Not if you count that she said a few hours ago that it scares her to death when I drive long distances. I think she was just being nice because I scare her even on short distances. But as soon as I hit town, I called on my phone to tell her I got here safe. She sounded alive then.”

“But you don’t have any brothers or sisters, right?” Spike almost didn’t want to hear the answer, since he had assumed that the mystical key sister would not be part of her new life.

“No to either. Just me to terrorize mom.” Beth brushed the mom issue aside when they followed the hostess to their table. After the waiter took their order, Beth peered hard at him across the table. “I know I’ve asked already but are you sure we haven’t met before? I feel like I should know or know things about you, and it’s funny, you make me also think of dancing. Now instead of Late Girl, I’ve moved on to Insane girl.”

At the mention of dancing Spike was reminded of the slayer she was not anymore, and he felt the familiar sadness and pain of the past year seep back into him. “No, pet, you shouldn’t know me. Maybe you saw someone who just looked like me.”

“The hair was what drew my attention to you at the music store, but…” She studied his distinctive features for a moment and then shook her head. She got hot just looking at him. “No, I’m sure I’ve never seen anyone else that looked like you.”

“The hair, uh? So what do you think you know about me, luv, after two meetings?” Spike felt odd saying only two meetings when he could remember so many more times they had been together over the years, including the few months that he and Buffy were lovers.

“I’m not a psychic, but I can read palms.” She rolled her eyes and gave an impish grin.

But before he had time to realize what she intended, she grasped his right hand, which had been lying on the table, and pulled it across the table toward her. As she did, he would have bet his duster on what she would say next.

“Your hand is cold.”

‘Bet with himself won, but if I stay around her, it was bound to eventually come up,’ he thought, ‘so let’s get it over with now.’ “I’m cold natured. Extremely cold natured. It’s a condition that I’ve had for years, which also makes me allergic to sunlight. I burn in direct rays.” However, instead of recognition or even disgust, he only saw curiosity in her eyes.

Still holding his hand in hers, Beth landed dead on the bizarre truth about him without even realizing it. “You sound like a vampire, except that you don’t have fangs, a cape with a stiff collar or have to drink blood.”

Thankful that he was not able to blanch any paler than he already was, Spike held an unnecessary breath, apprehensive of what would come out of her mouth next.

“You’re not like dying from this condition thingy, are you?” Beth’s mind was racing. ‘No, no, I just hunted this hottie down.’

The vampire was relieved by the direction her thoughts had turned, or rather where her thoughts had not gone. Her words confirmed her ignorance of his true nature. “No, I am not going to die.” ‘Well, that is true,’ Spike told himself, wanting to still stay close to the truth. ‘I’m already dead, aren’t I?’

Obviously pleased with his answer, Concerned Buffy changed back into Flirtatious Buffy. “Besides, if you were a vampire, you would bite people, wouldn’t you?” She looked at him through her lashes and gave him a teasing smile. “So, William, the million dollar question is do you bite?”

“Only if you ask me to, kitten.” Comfortable that his own secrets and the secrets of the past were again safely tucked back in the closet, Spike joined in the playful flirting. “So you think you are a fortune teller, do you?” He gave a nod toward his hand. “Why don’t you give it a go?”

Beth thought she was going to purr when he called her “kitten.” Actually, he was so sexy that he could have called her a lamp post, and she would still get turned on. She gazed at him intensely for a moment more before looking back down at his palm. “You have a long life line, if I knew where that was.”

Spike chuckled, wondering if she meant his life or unlife.

“You will have good luck, I guess.” Beth ran her thumb across his hand. At her soft touch on the sensitive part of his hand, Spike was glad that the table covered his instant arousal. Unaware, she continued, “You are loyal, like you would do anything for anyone you love.”

Spike watched her adorable blush at the use of the word, “love,” when she realized the implications, but as much as he wanted to, he didn’t read much into it. ‘Write it off to first date jitters, mate.’

“Anyway,” Beth continued, “what the world sees is the image you’ve developed for display, all to cover up the true, soft marshmellowy William insides. And you’ve been doing it for a hundred years.”

When he quickly drew his hand back, she laughed at his started expression, misinterpreting the reason for his reaction. “Sorry, I meant to say it feels like a hundred years. My bad. Believe me, you don’t look a hundred years old.” Actually, she thought he looked like one of her dreams come true, but due to her perceived blunder, she was more than ready to change the topic of conversation. “How old are you anyway, gramps?”

“Twenty-nine.” Spike replied, while thinking, ‘give or take a hundred years.’

Since she had been worrying that he was an “older man,” Beth liked that answer. ‘If he had said forty-seven, Mom would have had a fit, but twenty-seven was yet another green light.’ “So British William, why Sacramento? Why not LA, San Diego, New York or Moscow for that matter?”

Spike thought about his answer for a moment. “I have been in California on and off for the last few years. I did spend some time in Brazil, but I’m always drawn back to this area of the world. Why Sacramento? When I started to work chasing down bail jumpers, this seemed the likely place. It’s the capital, which means lots of courts, lots of accused, and lots of people needing bonds.”

“What you told me before sounds so interesting and exhilarating. I would love to put some excitement into my life. Let me go on a case.” Beth eyes sparkled.

What could he say? He couldn’t tell Beth that her life used to be filled with too much excitement. That if she went with him, it would not only be very dangerous for her, but that hunting with her would remind him of how they use to hunt together. That was the reason he didn’t want to hunt demons any more. So he got into hunting humans but just not killing them. The job may not be as exciting but rewarding putting humanities scum back in jail. Not to mention, the gig paid well.

Spike shook his head. “No, luv. When all the cases are divided out, only the most dangerous are left, and those are the ones I take.”

“I still don’t understand why I can’t go. Why do you take those cases? Could you take an easy one that I could go on?” Beth tried a pout out on William.

Reminded of the time he and the slayer were engaged while under Red’s spell, Spike wanted to lean across the table and nibble on her lower lip that was jutted out. He shook himself so he could concentrate on answering Beth’s question. This wasn’t the slayer that could take care of herself in a fight, but was sweet, young woman that didn’t know anything about going blow for blow with some wanker. So Spike stood firm on his decision no matter how beguiling she was, his urge to protect her was greater. “I take those cases for three reasons, luv. The pay is better because the bonds are usually higher and so the ten percent pay is higher. Second, they are the cases that no one has balls enough for or are stupid enough to take. The last reason is the thrill I get from taking the bugger down. The last two reasons are why you can’t go.”

“Are balls mandatory?” Beth asked with mock naiveté that had Spike laughing at her bawdy wit. Enjoying the sound of his laughter, she made a promise to herself to make sure she heard it more.

*****

When they left, Spike unwittingly fell back into his Victorian manners. He opened the door for Beth to walk outside, and without consciously noticing, he lightly placed a hand on her back, guiding her into the fresh night air. Yet, Beth noticed and enjoyed his old fashion courtesy, but when he first touched her back, his cold hand made her feel hot. Just to feel his touch longer, she wanted to walk right past her car and around the block. She made a mental note to send a gift basket or something nice to the bail bondsman who gave her William’s phone number.

When Spike realized where his hand was resting, he couldn’t take it off of her. Before he had come to the restaurant, he hadn’t been sure what to do with this Beth, but after talking to her, inhaling her unique smell and now feeling her warmth again after so long, he made his final decision. He would keep his word to Whistler and respect Buffy’s wish, but if Beth chose to spend time with him, he wouldn’t say no or even hesitate with a yes again.

They arrived at her car too soon for both of them, but he held the door open for her to climb in. Before completely in, Beth looked up at him. “Do I have to make up another lame excuse to see you next time I’m in town, like another round of guess the underwear?”

Spike gave her one of his grins, which she had rarely seen so far, before he closed the car door to the Jeep. Beth hurried to roll down the window to hear his reply. “No, pet, just give me a ring. That was my cell phone number that you hunted down, I always have it with me.”

As he watched her drive away, Spike made a promise to himself to never leave the flat without his cell phone and to get a new car. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to break the news to the DeSoto, but he would give the lady his personal guarantee to put her in a nice storage facility and visit often.

*****

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“What the hell am I doing?” Fuming, Spike banged his right hand against the steering wheel of his new ride. “What the bloody, fucking hell am I doing?” Regardless of what his instincts were yelling, “Turn around. Turn around,” he drove on down the “Leave It To Beaver” residential street. “I’ll tell you what you’re doing, you nancy boy. You’re going to pick up your date at her father’s house like some lad just out of short pants. Bloody ridiculous. An over a century old, master vampire is going to take the once over by dear old dad.”

“Pick up your date.” That one little phrase halted Spike mid-tirade to consider right and proper dates. He certainly never had what could be termed a real date with Dru, unless you count an alley, biting, and getting turned. Then it was shag, hunt, and feed. Nah. Next was Harmony, who a bloke didn’t have to take her on a date. He’d get laid with only a wink and a smile. Then there was Buffy, which only deserved a bitter laugh. Hell, she wouldn’t even tell her friends, let alone be seen in public as a couple. Looking back at his experiences, he had never been on a “date.” ‘No time like the present and all that rot,’ Spike thought while giving a heart felt groan. ‘But she better be ready. I don’t fancy making chit chat with any man stupid enough to divorce Joyce.’

*****

Leaving his car parked at the curb, Spike reluctantly made his way to the Summers’ front door, all the while fussing at himself for having the jitters. Hank Summers answered the door shortly after Spike rang the bell. No shocker there. He was invited in, which was good so Spike didn’t have to be blatant and ask for one so he could enter the house.

“Come in, come in. I’m Hank Summers, Beth’s father.”

Spike stepped inside, rolling his eyes when Hank couldn’t see. Mr. Middle Class wanting to be Mr. Upper Class, Spike thought as he took note of what the shorter than average, balding man with bleached teeth. His clothes displayed designer’s labels in an effort to impress people. ‘Bugger that, I would rather impress this wanker into the wood work.’ “Name’s William.” The vampire could tell that Hank was going to ask about his last name, or the lack of, until Spike shook Hank’s proffered hand.

Hank quickly pulled his hand away. “Gosh, is it that cold outside?”

“Brisk, but not too bad, mate.” ‘Gee, you would be warmer if you put a rug on that shiny head’ wanted to trip off his tongue, but he let it lie. “Is Beth ready yet?”

“When you pulled up, she called down the stairs to say that she would be a few more minutes.” Patting Spike on the back, Hank led the way into the living room. “You know how women are…” With his hand, he gestured to a seat on the sofa, before going to stand with his arm on the fireplace mantle.

First, the git pats him on the back like he is some pimple-faced boy picking up his high school prom date. Next, by standing while Spike sat, Hank placed himself in a dominating position above the vampire. Been a while since he had killed a human, but Spike decided this bloke was sorely tempting. With a tilt of his head, a straight face, and sarcasm in his tone, Spike asked, “No, sir, how are women?” The question caught Beth’s father off guard. Good.

Hank searched for a new tactic. “Uh…You said your name is William…?”

Spike knew that ole baldy was again fishing for a last name, probably wanted to see Spike’s driver’s license so he could check for a police record and financial statements. Of course, that could be fun since he had bought all his papers anyway. “Yes, I did say my name is William.” ‘The bloke could catch a bloody whale and serve it up with a white wine sauce before I give a last name.’ Waiting for the next inquisition question, Spike stood and started to prowl the room.

“So, William, what do you do for a living?”

‘Now that was a cliché of a question.’ Spike didn’t bother to look at the man. “I do contract work for bails bondsmen.”

“Finances, accounting, something like that?”

Finally stopping his circuit around the room, Spike turned to stare the nosy, little pillock down. How he wished he had adopted a much more course accent earlier to enhance this next part. “No, I hunt down murderers, rapists and child molesters, and drag them back to jail, which usually involves violence.” Keeping his gaze steady, Spike enjoyed watching Hank’s eyes grow a little wider. The vampire hadn’t survived all these decades without being able to stare someone down while implying imminent bodily harm.

Hank wisely decided to retreat and scooted around the opposite side of the room from Spike. His speech came out a little faster and less assured. “Why don’t I see if Beth is ready? Uh, nice meeting you, William.”

Spike chuckled as Hank scurried out of the room. ‘That one was for you, Joyce.’

Beth appeared shortly thereafter. “Ready. And what did you say to Dad?” Her voice expressed her unspoken suspicions.

“Whatever do you mean, pet.” Spike’s voice all innocence as he courteously held the front door open for her. “Your father asked what I did for a living, and after I told him, he went up to get you.”

“Right. I bet your description was way graphic.” Beth slowed down as she approached his car. He opened the passenger side door for her, but she paused on the side walk, taking in the beautiful, black Jaguar with black, leather interior.
Curious as to why she stopped, Spike looked back over his shoulder. “Something amiss, luv?”

Beth tilted her head as she looked puzzled. “That’s not your car.”

“Didn’t nick it, if that’s what you mean.” Spike repressed a smile, but his eyes glittered mischievously. “And my name’s on the title, so I suppose it’s mine.”

Oblivious to the joke, Beth never took her eyes from the Jaguar and slowly shook her head. “The color’s right, but it’s too new.”

Now Spike was the one baffled. “I realize it’s not brand new, but I wanted one from when the company was still British owned instead of Ford.”

“No. Old as in older than me.”

Not sure what to say, Spike just gazed at her as she continued.

“It’s funny,” Buffy said with a little laugh. “For some reason, I saw you in a much older, bigger car. Black but with those fin thingies on the back.” Shrugging, Beth climbed into the passenger seat and smiled back up at him. “It must sound way wacked, but do you know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean, pet.” Spike closed the door, and as he walked around to the driver’s side, he clinched his jaw and rolled his eyes. ‘All the bloody effort I went to avoiding her remembering any past memories that could have been caused by seeing with the DeSoto, and that sodding car is all the bint can think about when she sees the new ride. Bugger it all.’

*****
Over the course of the next month, weekdays felt long and weekends much too short. During that month, Beth was only able to visit Sacramento twice which also meant she only saw William twice. However, that quickly evolved into three weekends a month, and if she could have slipped away from school and her Sunnydale life more often, Beth would have gone to see him every weekend. Each of those weekends in Sacramento, Beth spent one night with her dad, a daughter’s duty she had to bear, but the other night was left to go out with William.

On the other side of the burgeoning relationship, Spike wasn’t sure what to think about the Saturday nights they spent together. Long dinners with more talking than eating, a carnival, movies, and then after each time, dropping her off at daddy’s.

Even though Spike had buried it down deep nowadays, the vampire part of him ridiculed that he was just playing with a potential, succulent meal, and that the only reason any self respecting vampire would set foot into any of those lame human activities would be to pick out a tasty human to suck dry. Even in the last year with the vampire part of him weighed down with a soul, Saturday nights were spent satisfying his demon’s need for hunting and violence through work. Since the skips were like roaches, tending to scurry out from under their rocks for Saturday partying.

On the other hand, Spike’s other half, the man in him that he cultivated, reveling in the possibility of such simplistic, nonviolent activities. By no small part, the fact that he was spending evenings with Beth, who was really Buffy with a different frame of mind, played a large part of his pleasure. Not to mention that her flirting with him was a heady, addictive sensation. Now he saved hunting skips for other nights than Saturdays or after dropping Beth back off at her dads.

Yet, it’s always good to have some common ground with one’s different personalities. And the demon and the man did have one collective desire. Every time Spike took Beth to her dad’s, his two sides enjoyed visions in graphic, bloody detail of twisting the pretentious wanker’s head off and punting it down the bloody street.

When Beth looked back over the course of their dates so far, three tended to stand out. The first was when Spike took her to a small grille and bar, and afterwards they strolled over to a small carnival set up in the lot next door. Beth played some of the cheesy games of skill and won enough to make the hawkers suspicious. The second was a movie fest and the third, a professional basketball game.

Watching her childish glee at the carnival, Spike had to laugh every time she won; the slayer capabilities were, to some degree, still in tact. Not to mention the view she provided when leaned over to participate in several of the games was well worth every dollar he fronted her to play.

However, a little while later, the cocky vampire was certainly not laughing when with a growing grin Beth stopped in front of a house of mirrors.

When she noticed that he had paused, Beth took his hand and tried to pull him closer to the entrance of the attraction. “Oh, come on. You’ll love it. Pleeeease.” Beth begged.

“Think I’ll sit this one out, pet. Feel free to go yourself.” For all her pulling, Spike didn’t move one step.

She tried the questioning a man’s courage ploy. That worked with every male, didn’t it? “You’re not scared that you wouldn’t be able to find your way out?”

“Scared. Sure, that’s it. Running scared. Shaking in my boots. You want to see the yellow stripe down my back?” She could call him a big, red, fluffy chicken, and he still was not going near those mirrors with her around for the obvious vampire reasons.

She patted his hand that she was holding. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

Spike didn’t budge an inch, not even a centimeter. He didn’t have to play the big bad with her anymore or put on false pretenses. Hell, she didn’t even know what a big bad was. So, he didn’t even want to walk past that many mirrors with her. Any other time, it would have been fun to fuck with everybody’s sanity. Just NOT tonight. NOT with Beth. “Come on, pet. Why don’t we try that roller coaster thing that goes up and around in fast circles. Let’s conduct a little experiment to see if all that cotton candy you ate comes up.”

“Eeeewwww. Gross much?” Buffy gave him an are you kidding look before taking to challenge like he knew she couldn’t pass up. “Yuk-age but ok. Let’s go.”
Thankful, he gave a huge sigh of relief when he let Beth pull him away from the mirrors of the certain busting of his undead status.

Another weekend was memorable for Beth because it marked the beginning of a new level of their relationship, not a big change but a little one. That Saturday, they indulged in movie fest, which consisted of one picture picked by Spike and one that she picked. In other words, one was action, and one was a romantic comedy. During the first movie, Beth was almost bouncing in her seat with joy when he spread his arms on the back of the seats. However the urge to bounce ebbed when his arm never touched her. Beth was disappointed, but she reminded herself that neither of them were teenagers that were dropped off at the theatre by one of their mothers where the boy was sneaking his arm around the girl. However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t touch him, so she settled for resting her head back against his arm. Up to this point, they rarely touched. In fact she suspected he was being extraordinarily careful about any contact, but this was a good start.

But the weekend that stood out the most in Beth’s mind was when Spike took her to a Sacramento Kings versus the LA Lakers basketball game. Staying true to his gentleman manners, Spike sat on the aisle, blocking Beth from anyone bumping her as they walked past. On their row, next to Beth were an empty seat and then a man that had come alone, which most likely explained the empty seat. William stayed remote from the game but watched intently, not wanting to look too enthusiastic for any sport other than British football. Not so reserved, Beth got caught up in the game, yelling with the fans and cheering when the Kings scored.

During half time, Spike excused himself to go get them drinks. Already frustrated because the long lines at the concession counter delayed him from returning to Beth, Spike’s blue eyes turned to yellow when he looked down the aisle to see the man, who had been two seats away, was now seated next to Beth with an arm draped across the back of her seat and turned so that his knees touched hers. While Spike was gone, the jerk made bold by beer must have scooted over into the empty seat, and now the git was smiling, talking, waving his drink in his free hand, and obviously putting on the oh-not-so-subtle moves. The vampire growled, ‘What, the wanker didn’t think I would come back? That’s bleedin’ his mistake, and that was one more than he should have made, especially when I rip his arm clean off and shove it up his arse.” One consolation was that Beth was trying to lean away from the drunk, obviously not falling for the overt pass, but even that still didn’t pacify his fury. When he felt wetness on his hands, Spike realized that he was choking the poor, defenseless beers he was holding.

Temporally getting himself under control, Spike waited until the suicidal ponce saw him standing at the top of the stairs, staring with yellow eyes closed into slits. As Spike started to head down, the fool had the good sense to scramble to the other end of the row and head up the aisle the vampire was not descending. When the guy scurried out of view, Spike made sure that his eyes had shifted back to their customary blue before handing the drinks off to Beth. He could vaguely hear her speaking, but the vampire was too livid, to intent on his prey, to respond. Without a word to her, he stalked back up.

First he checked the closest loo in search of the lush. Jackpot. Spike came up behind the wanker as he pissed away some of his beer in the urinal. “Don’t tell me, mate. Let me guess. You were thinking with the wrong, little head you’re now holding when you moved in on my lady.” The bloke’s stream instantly stopped. Having heard Spike’s English accent back at the seats, he had no doubt who was standing behind him. When reality of his new situation fully sunk into the git, Spike continued, “Zip it up, or lose it, mate. And believe me, I wouldn’t mind yanking it off where you stand.” No one else in the restroom paid any attention to the pair and hurriedly left, following the unwritten rule to keep out of other people’s business in a men’s restroom. The subject of Spike’s rage took his suggestion and quickly zipped up before turning around to find himself nose to nose with the furious blonde who radiated anger and menace. He darted a look over at the exit, but Spike easily read his thoughts. “And before you try to get away, remember that if you have season tickets, which I think you do, I will find your name in the records and take pleasure hunting you down. Now, let’s walk outside and see if you can make amends.”

*****

When Spike returned to his seat, the game was already a few minutes into the third quarter. However, Beth wasn’t watching but looking around nervously until she saw him, and then shot him a fretful look. “Is everything alright? Where were you?”

“Just had to go to the restroom, luv.”

Before Beth could ask another question, a young couple stopped at the end of their row next to Spike. The young man spoke up. “This is going to sound a little crazy, but this guy just gave us two tickets and told us to use them for the rest of the game.” The man showed the tickets to Spike.

To give them room to pass down the row, Spike stood up into the aisle. “You’re in the right place, mate. You two are in those empty seats next to Beth here.”

When the girl was seated next to her, Beth asked again what had happened to them, wondering if their story would explain the crude drunk that was now gone. “It was just the weirdest thing. When we went to stretch our legs and get drinks, this stranger walked up, said he was leaving, and wanted us to use his seats. We were shocked, but since we were sitting in the nose bleed section before, we jumped at the chance for such great seats.”

“That sounds like pennies from Heaven,” Beth said before she turned around and gave Spike a knowing smile. She suspected that it was a certain platinum blonde, who helped Heaven with those pennies.

*****

Beth enjoyed the rest of the game but eagerly anticipated the end. As usual for a large, sporting event, after the final buzzer, there would be a crush of people trying to exit all at once. Knowing this, Buffy made the best of the situation and insisted they stay until the teams were leaving the court. As a result, in the midst of the mob of shifting people, Beth’s back was pressed against William’s front numerous times. Not enough for her, but she thought it would be a little obvious if she stayed that way the whole time, but she did get a bonus shot when he put his hands on her waist so they wouldn’t accidentally get separated in the crowd. Still preferring to be up against his hard chest, but Beth was becoming to appreciate his low body temperature, especially since it increased how much she could feel his touch on her warm body.

Unknowingly, Spike was thinking along the same lines. He had been reluctant to touch the beautiful temptation leaning back on him. But he would have been a lair if he said he didn’t love each brief contact against his chest. A lair if he denied how much he loved touching her, feeling her heat. To be honest, he wanted to wrap his arms around her, securing her to him and holding her as long as she would let him.

*****

Thrilled to finally arrive, Beth parked her jeep in the funeral home’s parking lot. It had been a three, excruciatingly long weeks since she was able to get away from Sunnydale and run up to Sacramento. She had talked to William yesterday afternoon so he knew she was coming, and for one of the first times in her life, including her high school and college classes, she was actually on time.

This was the first time she was to see his flat as he called it, and since he rarely talked about anything personal, she was very anxious to see where he lived. Beth figured she could learn much about him from where he lived, and the first item of note was that he lived above a funeral home. She thought the idea of sleeping over all those dead bodies would give her major wiggins, but when she entered the back door into a small foyer and went up the private stairs past the second floor landing on up to the third floor, she found that it just wasn’t that bid a deal.

Smoothing out her clothes, making sure she looked as perfect as possible, she knocked on the door, but then her nerves went from anxious to concerned when at her touch the door swung open. “Hello? William?” Hesitant to stroll in a man’s home, especially one she really didn’t know all that well yet, she only poked her head in.

“William?...It’s me, Beth.” She tentatively walked in, carefully looking around. “Hello?” The farther she entered the stronger the feeling that something was wrong increased. Her first thought was that he wasn’t home and had left the door open, but her sixth sense, that very same sense that previously kept nagging her that she knew William, also told her that he was at home. Somewhere.

Shutting the front door behind her, she started searching the rooms. To the left was a large library with books covering three of the four walls, and to the right was an entertainment room with a wide screen TV. Continuing forward, she stepped out of the entry hall into a spacious, open living room with a bank of windows to her left, and a kitchen situated in the far corner opposite the windows to her right.

As she still found no sign of William, the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach elevated. She headed over to the open door on the far wall to the side of the kitchen. Suspecting it was his bedroom, she poked her head in hesitantly. “William, are you here?”

That’s when Beth noticed the trail of blood. She had overlooked the droplets since they blended in with the dark wood flooring, but the dried blood now stood out on the light grey rug covering the floor his bedroom. William looked as if he had fallen on his bed and was now lying face down in an awkward position. William did not even move a muscle at the sound of his name. As she rushed in calling his name again, he moved his hand enough to let her know he was still alive. As she reached the bed, Beth realized that his blonde hair was caked with dried blood, and his black t-shirt was torn where she could see cuts and more blood sharply contrasting with his alabaster skin. “Oh, god, William. What happened to you?” She tentatively touched her fingertips lightly to his shoulder, which caused him to move again followed my a groan.

Feeling tears forming in her eyes, she stood back up and scolded herself for beginning to fall apart. “Ok, Beth. Act now, freak later.”

She frantically looked around, pulled open the first door, which ended up to be his closet, before finding the bathroom behind the second door. But she wasn’t surprised to find a cabinet well stocked with first aid supplies. In fact, she had to make two trips to bring everything she thought she would possibly need.

Deciding to work on his back before even attempting to roll him over, Beth cut off his shirt to survey the damage. And what impressive damage she found. While cleaning blood off with water and a wash cloth, she uncovered two knife wounds down his left side. Judging from the black and purple, elongated bruises forming on his right side and all over is back, someone had used some type of club on him, most likely a baseball bat.

Beth wiped tears from her eyes, empathizing with the pain she assumed he must be enduring, but never questioning how she could recognize a knife and bat wounds for what they were and that she knew he wouldn’t want to go to the hospital. Knowing that she should call 911, but she followed her instincts and pushed that idea aside.

After finishing his back, she tended to a long cut at the base of his skull. When finished, Beth took a minute to run her fingers through his curls and then continued when she noticed that, instead of groaning as when she cleaned the wound, his moan similar to the sounds you make when you are enjoying your favorite ice cream.

Dreading but knowing what she must do next, Beth rolled William onto his back as gently as she could manage. He gasped and balled his fists in the comforter covering his bed, but stayed unconscious. On his chest and face, she found more cuts and bruises, and if possible, the front of his body bore looked in worse shape than his back.

When finally done with the nursing, she turned her attention to his black jeans. Tight black jeans were sexy to look at, especially with him in them, but too tight for recuperation. In an attempt to make at least some of his body comfortable, she undid his belt but developed cold feet as she tugged down his zipper. So when instead of the top of boxer shorts, her fingers met curly, dark hair, she decided that just loosening the waist band would be enough. Not that she wouldn’t mind peeking, but it would be too much like molesting someone in a coma. With that thought and an eeww, she moved down to remove his boots. Now exposing socks she could handle, especially since she really didn’t care if he wore socks or not.

Finally finished, her stomach’s growling told her that it was now way past dinner time. In the kitchen, she poured herself some juice and put together a sandwich from supplies she found scattered in the refrigerator.

Drink in one hand and sandwich in the other, she wandered around the loft, inspecting William’s home, seeking out any clues to understand him better. After examining the entertainment room, she concluded that this was a man who majorly got into watching TV. But Beth supposed she would be, too, if she couldn’t go outside during the day. Looking in the library, which was on the opposite side of the entry hall, left no doubt that reading was another love. The three walls were covered by an impressive variety of books. Novels, mysteries, non-fiction, biographies, fantasies, and a surprisingly large collection of poetry books. Who would have thought that the man lying in the bedroom, covered in wounds, enjoyed sitting down and reading poems?

As she finished her sandwich, Beth strolled back into the living room and felt drawn to the large windows. Pulling the heavy drapes back and rolling up a film of dark tinting, she was instantly taken with the view. No, it wasn’t a rolling ocean or majestic mountains but just an old, nicely kept cemetery. She surmised that she was over looking at one of the oldest parts because the trees were large and full, and the tombstones were much more ornate than modern headstones. Odd as it was, she felt relaxed gazing out over the graveyard at night instead of spooked; the view was serene and entrancing all at the same time.

Beth had no idea how long she stood looking out when a low moan of pain finally broke her trance. After quickly returning her glass to the kitchen which was on her way, Beth entered the bedroom to check on her patient.

Obviously agitated, William was moving, close thrashing, and mumbling in his sleep,.

Kicking off her shoes, Buffy climbed onto the empty side of the bed to lean on her elbow on her left side, facing him. Reaching out her right hand, she ran her fingers thru his hair, gently playing with the curls and lightly scratching his scalp as she had earlier. Letting out a deep, satisfied sigh, William stilled and the slightest smile tilted up the corners of his mouth. “You big softy,” Beth thought when she finally rested her hand on his forearm lying next to her. Then while looking at his profile, she added before falling asleep, “He maybe a softy, but he is a sexy softy.”

*****

TBC

Chapter 4: Caring

‘Damn sneaky buggers,’ was Spike’s first thought as he struggled up through a dense cloud of pain blanketing his body. When he finally made it up through to a poor excuse of consciousness, his second thought was, ‘I’m a big bad sucker. That’s right, mate. A bloody, award winning wanker, you are, for letting those pillocks come up behind you.’

As Spike moaned, his mind replayed how his body ended up in such a fucked up condition. He had just picked up a bail jumper. No problem. But then his mind drifted off to its favorite happy place, his new memories of Beth. Then instead of “no problem,” it was now a “big problem.”

With no consideration for the vampire’s pleasant daydream, the next thing Spike knew, he was beaten to the ground with a bat, and while lying in the dirt he was repeatedly kicked stabbed twice. Proud of themselves, the three bastards left him for dead. Oh, they were right about that bit. He was dead alright, but what they didn’t count on was that he was the undead, who would heal up, and then be back for them.

He wasn’t sure how but he was no longer lying in a dirt parking lot, he must have made it back to his loft somehow since. Now he lay on his bed, only half conscious, hoping he hadn’t damaged the Jag too bad and trying to forget his excruciating pain by planning how to dole out his revenge.

As he slowly became more aware of his surrounding, his brain jumped from oblivious to his surroundings to level red alert. Amazingly, his shirt was removed, the blood that should have covered his body was cleaned off, and his numerous cuts and wounds bandaged. “What in the sodding world is going on?” Spike started to lift his right arm to inspect the bandages on his chest but abruptly stopped when he felt an weight resting on top of his arm. He froze for a second, and due to the pain in his head, Spike dreaded moving his head, so he decided to look out of the corner of his eye. He saw a hand. A small, feminine hand. Shock, he snapped his head to the side, but all he saw were stars in front of his eyes from the pain throbbing throughout his head and body. When the little buggers finally cleared, he found himself looking at the slayer sleeping at his side. No, not the slayer. Beth.

He lay there for a while, relishing the sight of the blonde beauty, not wanting to move in case he might wake her. To distract him from his pain, he concentrated on the feel of her delicate hand on his arm and the beauty of her face which was relaxed in sleep so close to him. Yes, they had lain together during the last few days before fighting the First Evil, but her reasons were never completely clear to him. Relations between them had definitely improved those last months he and the slayer had been together, but he had never been sure if she had been looking for comfort and went to him or found comfort being with him. Big difference. Funny though, this time, Beth was comforting him, no need to hide anything, no impending doom, and especially no vampire versus slayer rubbish. As he looked his fill, the pain eased, and Spike finally fell back into peaceful sleep.

*****

When he awoke the next time, Spike knew before he moved a muscle or opened his eyes that he was the only person in the bedroom. After laying there for a while trying to clear his mind, he was starting to doubt that Beth had only been a lovely pain induced delusion. Yet he still had bandages all over which did mean someone must have patched him up. But then Beth herself inadvertently settled his inner debate as she walked into the room with a smile and a casual “Hi” as if she walked into his bedroom all the time.

Just her entering the room lessened his anxiety or pain. “Hello, pet.” Spike noticed that Beth was holding a book that he assumed that she found to occupy herself while waiting for him to wake up. Bloody hell, he would have woken up sooner if he had known that she was waiting for him.

Equally casual as when she entered the room, Beth strolled around to the empty side of the bed and sat down to face him. She pulled her legs up under herself, and then squirmed a moment getting comfortable. Once settled she scrunched up her nose at him, which only made him want to kiss away the wrinkles created. “I think I’ll skip the whole ‘How do you feel’ part because I think I can guess and go right to the ‘What the hell happened to you’ part?”

“Right, then let me do the ‘thank you for patching me up’ part before the ‘how stupid could I get’ explanation.” Her laugh made him feel even better than her presence already had. “So, first things first. Thank you, Nurse Nightingale.”

Instead of looking flattered, Beth appeared to be a bit uneasy. “Uh, maybe you should wait until you’ve healed up to thank me. See, I don’t remember ever learning how to do first aid, so I may have done it all wrong. But it was so wiggy because I felt like it was natural, even like I had practiced in a way. Just think, you could have ended up all mummy-like. Bandages round and round with only your eyes showing.” Actually, just seeing his eyes would be enough to make her knees wobble.

Spike laughed but was immediately reminded by his ribs that he had been beaten all to hell. His smile came out looking a little strained, “I’m sure you did fine, pet.”

“We’ll see. If you have gaping, puss-filled yucky sores in a few days and want to sue me, I’ll just claim that I’ve never met you before. Besides, what would you get from me? College text books? Take them, and I will even thank you. Hey, I will deliver them, no charge.”

When William smiled at her joke, Beth returned it with one of her own until she realized that she was just sitting there, on his bed, and would be perfectly happy to look at him all day. And all night, and the next day… Beth mentally shook herself. ‘Enough of the mime act. Talk. You know, that thing were the mouth moves and sounds come out that other people understand.’ Beth tried to remember what they were even talking about. “So now I guess we’re are up to your whole ‘What the hell’ and ‘stupid’ explanation.” She patted herself on the back. ‘There you go, Beth. Get him to talk and you have a reason to sit back and stare.’

Rolling his eyes up to stare at the ceiling, Spike gave a long, suffering sigh, not wanting to admit to anything about the incident. Not one word. Mortification just wasn’t something a big bad wanted on his resume, ‘Experience: Number of Times Mortified…’ No thank you, even if she no longer knew what a big bad was. “I was on a job, picking up this sodding waste of life, who was out on bond for a manslaughter charge. He had killed this other git in a bar fight. Not that I don’t enjoy a good bar fight as much as the next bloke, but when you kill your opponent, you’ve stepped over the line of recreational fun.”

“Definitely a do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, and go straight to jail.” Buffy replied with a stern look, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her tease away. “But you ended up looking like you were the one on the receiving end of the beating.”

He closed his eyes before admitting. “That, pet, would be because I was the ninny getting beat up.”

Beth had a hard time comprehending the story now. “Huh? I thought you caught the bad guys not the flip side, them catching you with knives and bats.” Suppressing a smile, Beth watched William’s jaw clench and unclench a few times before he continued

“I waited for the skip outside a shabby excuse of a bar about 10 miles north of town. He came out. I grabbed him. Easy. But as I hauled him to my car, I got distracted, and two of his friends jumped me from behind. So, it wasn’t stupid. It falls more into the category of bleedin’ idiotic.”

Since her merriment was starting to go past a smile, Beth bit her lip trying not to laugh and thus making him feel even worse. It was in the top ten rules of dating. So not of the good to make a potentially serious boyfriend feel inadequate, and as she studied his face, he looked far from inadequate. In fact, the eyebrow with the scar was fascinating. “Oh, William, you know better than turn your back to a bar, especially when you are pissing people off.” While still talking, she slowly reached her hand toward his face before absently adding, “At least I hope you never made that mistake at Willy’s.”

“Willy’s?” Spike’s eyes flew wide open, eyes seeking any clue in her face. He couldn’t stop himself from asking, but he didn’t think she meant the Willy’s in the Sunnydale of the past. Or better yet, he prayed that it was not Willy’s demon bar.

She, however, was focused on her hand which now was only a couple of inches from his eyebrow with the fascinating scar. “You know, Willy’s bar, the best place in Sunnydale to beat information out of people.”

Not even aware of her hand, Spike was instead paying attention to what her words implied. As he searched her face, he suspected that she didn’t even realize what she was actually saying or what she was jeopardizing for them both. For her, she would lose her normal life; for him, he would lose her again and no telling what punishment from the Powers That Be. Remembering Willy’s was way too close for him. But then Beth’s finger ran across his eyebrow, and all his thoughts and anxieties packed their bags and soared out the nearest window.

She stroked his eyebrow again, “Did you get this scar in a bar fight?” Surprising her, tingling sensations shot up her arm from the contact, but she wouldn’t have withdrawn her hand, losing the contact with his skin, even if he told her to get away.

What was he going to say about the scar? That a Chinese slayer nicked him before he killed her? What a conversation topic that would make. “No, luv. Childhood accident. Ya know, misspent youth and all that rubbish.”

She stroked across his eyebrow one more time before her fingertip made slow progress down the side of his face. Carefully avoiding any bruises or cuts, she continued the intimate caress, lightly tracing along his defined cheekbone and then on down to his upper lip. As Beth slowly rubbed across the sensitive skin of his sculpted lip that seemed, back and forth, she leaned in closer, whispering in a huskier than normal voice. “Do they hurt?”

Before he answering, Spike was unable to suppress a deep moan. He suspected that her sensual touch was causing his brain melt down. But how could such a light touch feel as if she was spreading her warmth through to his body. “What hurts, luv?” He watched as a slow, beguiling smile spread across her face. Looking at her, it struck him how much the tables had turned with Buffy to Beth. He was the one being seduced, and he wanted more, more, please more.

Beth looked up into his clear blue eyes. “Your lips. Do they hurt?”

Spike lied with ease, anything to keep her that close in proximity to him. “No, they don’t hurt a bit.” He heard a soft “good” before she closed the small gap left between them and kissed his lips. Even without much experience in the human custom of dating, Spike knew first kisses carried great importance, influencing the relationship to come, but also broke a barrier between them, taking the relationship forward. This first kiss was light, tentative but sweet, leaving you anticipating the next one.

Suddenly self-conscious, she slightly pulled back to gage William’s reaction, and Beth was pleased to notice that his eyes followed her wet tongue licking across her upper lip.

But now it was Spike’s turn to ask a question. “Do you want to know what distracted me, pet?”

Curious where his question was leading, Beth’s smile faded as she tilted her had to the side. “Sure.”

“You.” His reply came out low and thoroughly masculine, which sent a tingle shooting down her spine. She wanted to purr in delight

“Huh?” Pathetic reply as it was, that was all Beth could manage.

“Thoughts of you distracted me.” Spike ran his fingers through her hair before tucking some loose strands behind her ear.

Her smile quickly returned along with her sense of humor. “So you’re saying that I’m the reason you were beat up? Like I was there dancing naked on the hood of one of their cars?”

He just nodded, still mesmerized by her lips, but her words still registered, especially the naked part. “I don’t know. May have been more like a table dance? It just so happens that I have a table that would be perfect just in the other room.”

“Then let me see if I can make you feel better with another type of dancing.”

This second kiss had no hesitancy like the first kiss. Their mouths met, open, tongues at once seeking each other’s touch. Falling back to old habits, Spike had expected this kiss to have the taste of his past with Buffy, desperation flavored with regret, need tainted with shame. But this kiss was deliberate instead of desperate, a yearning instead of a forbidden desire. When Beth pulled back to catch her breath, the truth finally seeped into his thoughts. What were the differences? He saw no regret in her beautiful, hazel eyes. Instead he saw was simple pleasure with no shadows instead of some stolen moment, but freely given affection, conscience free of any weight of duty pulling her down. Catching her breath quickly, Beth kissed him again. With this kiss, Spike savored her taste of a possible future. A future he knew he didn’t dare hope for, but he was determined to enjoy every moment he was unbelievably blessed with. A vampire tasting heaven on a human’s lips.

Surprising her, Spike was the one that pulled back this time. Satisfying an intense need to see her face, he studied her smile, gazed into her hazel eyes to see her need for him. With a groan bordering on a growl, he threaded his fingers through her hair, cupped the back of her head and pulled her forward with a gentleness that the slayer never wanted from him. Sure, during those last couple of months with Buffy, she had allowed him to show her tenderness in his embrace, but nothing more, not even a sweet, chaste press of his lips on hers. In sharp contrast, as he kissed Beth, not only did she accept his tenderness, but she mirrored his gesture, bringing her hand up to caress the short hair at the nape of his neck.

Desire satisfied for the moment, Spike lightly stroked the back of his knuckles down the side of her face. “You were right.”

“Always right. Cross my heart and hope to not get caught being wrong.” Trying to regain her equilibrium, Beth wasn’t grounding herself but drowning his gaze, swimming in his desire that matched her own. However, who wouldn’t get lost looking into his intense, azure eyes? She gave him a cocky smirk, “But feel free to share with the class what I was right about this time.”

“You do make me feel better.” He moved his hand to play with a strand of her golden hair, leisurely wrapping it loosely around his finger, and even though she tried to hide any outward sign of her excitement, he knew and thrilled listening to her heartbeat increase.

She didn’t care what her biology teacher said about hair not having any nerve endings. His small intimacy made her want to purr. In fact, she would be happy if William played with every hair on her head. Individually. Slowly. Returning the gesture in her own way, Beth ran her fingers across his arm, which was lying on the bed. She lightly caressed his pale skin marred by harsh, black bruises. “Feeling better is definitely of the good. And that must mean that I just passed my first exam in first aid.”

“Luv, as much as I would love to stay right here with you, but…” He paused as he watched her eyebrows rise in question. “I am starving.” He could feel his stomach rumbling, calling for blood he desperately needed to help him heal. Actually, he was surprised she hadn’t heard the noise herself.

Buffy was immediately up and heading for the kitchen, “My bad. What can I get you?”

“I would love some soup, which I don’t have. Would you mind running to the market, luv?”

*****

Shaking his head, Spike would have never thought he would be so thankful that he was out of blood. There was no telling how long Beth had been in the loft while he was out, and so in all likely hood, she went looking around for a drink or eats. As soon as Beth was out the front door, Spike called downstairs to beg a delivery of blood to be brought up.

The mortician, Josh, took pity on him and immediately sent some with his son, Devin. So when Beth returned, his demon had been fed, Devin had taken any remains of meal of blood back downstairs, and the secret side of his nature was safe again. But then he had to dutifully eat the chicken noodle soup that Beth heated for him, all the while kicking himself for not asking for a soup that he actually liked.

Even though Spike fought it, with his stomach full and the blood accelerating his healing, he soon fell back into a much needed, healing sleep. The next time he woke up, he wasn’t surprised that Beth was gone. However, he reminded himself that this wasn’t the slayer, who would run away with the idea of never returning. This non-slayer had mentioned that she needed to check in with her dad. So that’s where he assumed Beth had gone, not run away, and Spike would bet his hair bleach that this girl would return.

*****

And Spike did win the bet. Sunday morning, Beth was back, bearing gifts and more shocks to his sanity, which he had already in questioned himself when he first had coffee with her at the mall.

Earlier that morning, Spike had hobbled from his bed into the entertainment room. Consequently when she arrived, she was surprised to find her patient sprawled on the sofa, watching a soccer game.

Beth wore a bright smile while holding an assortment of breakfast offerings such as donuts, bagels, danishes, among others. “Morning. I brought a little taste of each since I don’t know what you like for breakfast.” After setting the goodies on a side table next to Spike, she kicked off her shoes and joined him on the sofa. Spike didn’t fail to notice that Beth sat as close as she could without touching him, and that she faced him instead of the television. “So, Rocky, do you feel as bad as you look?”

Spike rolled his eyes as he finished off a decadent Danish, “Luv, I feel like I was stabbed and beat with a baseball bat. Oh…wait…I was stabbed and beaten with a baseball bat. And I HATE baseball. Bloody boring excuse for a sport.”

Taken aback, Spike nearly dropped his donut when she leaned over and gave him a hello kiss on the cheek, which gave him the first shock of the day. Not that he was appreciative of the affection openly shown by this different version of Buffy, but he just hadn’t gotten use to the change yet since it was the same face, voice, hair, type of clothes, everything. The spontaneous kiss had been a very non-Buffy action to him. Or for anyone that kissed him for that matter.

As she pulled away, she gave him a perky smile, “At least we have that in common. Baseball is a total yawn fest.” She glanced at his TV. “Now soccer is one of those sports that I can watch but don’t get.”

Spike gently patted her knee, trying to correct her American misconception as gently as possible. “First off, luv, it’s called football.”

“Noooo, I know football. Guys, pads, very tight pants, topped off with brain buckets.” The corners of her mouth tipped up. “Did I mention tight pants?”

Spike groaned while rolling his eyes dramatically. “Too small knickers would be the highlight of American football, no doubt, but if you are going to watching the telly here with a Brit, you’ve got to learn what you are watching. See soccer is called football around the world. Just you Yanks have to be different as usual. No wonder you do so poorly at the World Cup. I digress. Let’s start with the goal keeper and work our way down the field.”

At halftime, when Spike finished his ‘football” lecture on how a tight defense functions, Beth shifted so that she could see William better, turning in her seat in order to face him. “Professor William?”

“Yes, pet?” CuriousSpike also shifted so that he could look at her while wondering why this bubbling blonde suddenly sounded serious. What he didn’t realize was that the seriousness was just a precursor to the next shock of the day.

With a slight wrinkle between her brows, her expression confirmed the resolve he could hear in her voice. “Can we skip the tutelage and go straight to the kissage? Now would be good.”

This woman did have some characteristics in common with the slayer that he enjoyed seeing again. Forward. Direct. Take Action. As the fire started to burn in his eyes, “I wouldn’t want to be in the way of something you want.” Spike’s hand moved up to cup the back of her head, bringing her face closer to his own. “Anything you want, luv.”

Instantly intense, they kissed like a couple of sixteen year olds on her parents’ sofa, stealing secret delights. But instead of the fear of getting caught by her father as a teenage boy would, Spike’s injuries and pain provided the firewall, not letting their passion progress any further than good, old fashion necking. Regardless, Spike loved every minute, every second her lips were pressed onto his. After the slayer had been brought back from the dead, they had only shared two kisses before their hot, heavy, hard sex began. He found this slower approach more satisfying, enjoying the simple contact.

Football forgotten, they whiled away the day, kissing, talking and occasionally breaking for food, beverages, and the like. During a pause in the kissage, while slowly pushing back any of her hair that had fallen across her face, Spike encouraged Beth to talk about her life in Sunnydale. A life that was the same but yet different from the slayer’s dark life that he had witnessed for years. No Master drowning her, no Angelus to torment her, no Mayor to wreak havoc, and even no Spike, William the Bloody trying to add another dead slayer to his tally. Asking her to start from when she moved to Sunnydale, Spike listened to three years of Sunnydale High with normal ups and downs, and with regular, human boy friends. Princess Cordelia picked on shy Willow and geeky Xander. Beth befriended the pair. The Librarian, Giles, befriended Beth, Willow and Xander and provided Beth with a father figure. Non-withchy Willow dated a non-werewolf Oz. Xander still had dated Cordelia. Go figure on that one. Spike had never been sure before, let alone now, who got the short end of that stick, the whelp or the vicious mouth.

After her high school graduation at what she called a “boring” ceremony, she moved on to college, but never meeting Riley, Captain Starch, her freshman year at college. ‘That was a gift from above,’ Spike thought. ‘The git was probably terrorizing another unfortunate town and its demon populace.’ But then Spike wanted to groan, realizing that there was some other schmuck vamp with a chip implanted in his head out there somewhere. He wouldn’t even wish that on Peaches. Well. Maybe.

As for Xander, after high school, he still did odd jobs until finally landing on a career in construction. Oz still left Willow. Having a soft spot for Red, Spike decided the pillock couldn’t recognize a keeper if it bit him on the arse. During college, Beth had to take time off from school because her mother was sick, but when Joyce got better, Beth returned to school to finish her criminal law degree. Just a mild shock here. Spike wasn’t surprised at all at her choice of major. Buffy was still shining through Beth, still trying to catch bad guys. All in all, Beth had had the normal life she had asked for.

“So that brings us up to recent history. My dad moved here a few months ago. I came to visit him and met you. Then I squiggled my way into your life. Bonus!”

Taking the opportunity, he leaned in close. “Glad you think so, luv.” Once more, he lightly brushed her lips before running the tip of his tongue along her lower lip. He savored kissing her and demonstrating just how glad he was to have met her.

“Uh, where was I?” Afterwards, Beth sat back, blinking at him with owlish eyes. “Yeah, you’re a bonus. Oh, and Willow and Xander are sick of hearing about my mystery boyfriend in Sacramento. They are dying to meet you. And I’m getting soooo mom-ed by my mom. ‘Who is he? How old is he? Where does he live? What does he do for a living? Yada, yada, yada… Don’t have to look so shocked. It’s just the usual parental inquisition.”

Big shock this time. “It’s not your mum’s questions, pet. To tell the truth, it’s the boyfriend part that gave me a jolt.” She had actually referred to him as a boyfriend? This relationship was a great deal different than he had ever encountered. Not with Dru, certainly not with Harm, and definitely not with Buffy. It was so…so…so conventional.

Not understanding what he meant, Beth wanted the ground to swallow her up as her face blushed a bright red. “Oh, my bad. I just thought with all the making with the smoochies yesterday and today. But you being older, you may not make much of that kind of tame stuff. I just assumed that…”

He reached up and cupped her chin in his hand while watching her nervously chew her lower lip before placing a tender kiss on her lips to settle her uncertainties. “You just keep assuming what ever you want, luv. I’ll follow your lead.”

*****
TBC

Chapter 5 Good & Bad

Much to his regret and diminishing patience, Spike’s current case started Wednesday in Sacramento, and by Saturday, he had trailed the skip up to Seattle. Since he was able to wrap up the case and make it back to Sacramento by Monday, to say that he wasn’t that disappointed to see Beth over the weekend was like a stripper saying that she was just a little chilly in Iceland. On the other hand, the thought of being referred to by Beth as “the boyfriend” kept a smile on his face until she bounded into the loft the following Friday.

The only snag in his excitement was that Beth arrived an hour before sunset, which made her an hour and a half earlier than she had predicted on the phone the previous night. Spike wasn’t as concerned about the time as he was glad to be with her sooner than expected. The snag came when for a few moments, he forgot himself and thought of her as the old slayer.

The faux pas unfolded while standing in the kitchen, holding a pitcher of blood, Spike was startled when the door to the loft suddenly flew open and slammed hard against the wall. This trademark entrance immediately took him back to the slayer when she use to storm into his crypt. Using one of his own trademark, big bad smirk, he jokingly called out, “You’re just in time for a cup of blo…b…Beth. Uh, a drink.” As he caught his inadvertent and almost catastrophic slip of his not paying attention tongue, Spike wasn’t sure which was worse trying to be a smart ass to the slayer that no longer existed or that Beth was walking up to him while he was holding a pitcher of blood from which he had almost offered her a cup. Actually, he was lying to himself. The answer was no contest: Offering her blood was far worse. All he could do now was remind himself that first this was just a normal, human girl who knew nothing about vampires, second he should keep his gob shut, and third he should be incredibly thankful that the pitcher he was holding was opaque.

Oblivious to his predicament, Beth practically skipped up to William. “Hi to you, too. Yeah, me because I’m early. I didn’t even speed…much.” Her smile sparkled. “And a cup of what?”

“Uuh…juice. A cup of juice, pet.” Spike quickly put the blood back in the refrigerator, pushing the pitcher as far back as possible, and pulled out on orange juice carton. Actually, when he returned from Seattle, he had planned for such a dilemma by hiding a small refrigerator in his library. However, his new problem was that he hadn’t hidden the blood yet and then how he could move the pitcher of blood from the kitchen into the library without the inquisitive blonde finding out. What in the bloody hell could he say? ‘Could you wait a sec while I move this pitcher to the hidden refrigerator in the library. Be right back, ducks.” Spike wanted pop himself on the side of his head. ‘Yeah, right you git. Ha bloody ha, or it was more like, I’m sooo bloody fucked.’

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Beth moved closer until she was just inches a way from him, grabbed his shirt to pull him down so that his mouth was level with her own and gave him a quick kiss. When she released his shirt, she took a step back before leaning her hip against the counter to simply enjoy watching him. She especially enjoyed his expression that started with shock, shifted agreeably surprised before ending with passion he thought he could hide. No hiding with those expressive, blue eyes; they told quite a story on their own.

Spike was wondering if he would ever get use to her freely given affection. As a result of her current example, he was working hard to make his brain, which was overloading with passion, think of something to say next. “You’re early, luv.”

Pointing towards the front door, Beth took a step back, turning to leave. “I could go drive around if you want and come back later. I’ll be back in...hey!”

She only made it one step away before Spike’s arm shot out, wrapped around her waist, and pulled her flush against him.

Beth wanted to groan over his much improved reaction to her arrival, but wanting to stay a nonchalant woman of the world, she settled with what she hoped was a sophisticated laugh as William growled, nipping at her ear. “Be good and no biting. At least…not hard.” That comment earned her another, deeper growl that sent shivers down her spine. Yeah, she had to work on drawing these types of reactions out of William because when successful, she wanted to blissfully melt where she stood, leaving a Beth puddle on his floor.

“If you only knew how good my bite actually is, pet.” Pulling back her hair with his free hand, he bit down with blunt teeth where the curve of her neck met her shoulder.

All of a sudden, the spell was broken for Spike when he bit her neck she broke free of his embrace. Her past boyfriends had kissed on her neck, used their teeth across her skin, but never an actual bite, so she suffered major freakage this first time. As Beth jumped back from him, she squeaked and quickly put her hand up to her neck. Spike’s spirits instantly plummeted, assuming that he had gone too far, and maybe triggered the wrong memories. That fear seared through him until she giggled. Giggled?

“Ooo, you gave me goose bumps.” She held out her arm for him to examine. When he curiously ran a cool hand across her forearm, she wiggled her eyebrows. “Promise to do it again? Maybe a little higher next time?” She brushed her index finger across the preferred spot.

“Promise, luv. Anytime you want.” Spike took a couple more bites as he made his way up her neck. By the last one, she was leaning into him and making a sound that sounded close to purring. “Anywhere you want.” Never in his long unlife would he have ever imagined that the feel of goose bumps on a woman’s arm could make him so aroused.

Smoothly closing the distance between them again, Spike pinned her body against the counter top before his mouth captured hers. Beth’s moan made his erection harder then as it had been just moment before, and her hardened nipples, which rubbed through their shirts against his chest, spoke volumes for her own arousal.

For Beth, all she could see was the desire burning in his blue eyes, making her want all the more. The nonchalant woman of the world quickly vanished and all she could think of to say when she had reluctantly broken free of his lips to breathe, was “A world of *wow.*”

When she had pulled back to catch a breath, Spike stayed close against her, looking down into her face and gave her an enticing smile. As she blinked up at him, he watched a blush redden her cheeks. Her unguarded reaction reminded him that this stunning woman he held in his arms wasn’t the hardened slayer, who in a deserted house had traded him blow for blow before having equally abandoned sex all night long. This, however, was an optimistic college student looking forward to a career, husband, family, and an overall bright future ahead of her. Bright, that was the rub because he had no choice but to remain in the shadows. So instead of letting desire run wild, he forced his desire to cool its heels and took a step back to put some space between them. Spike poured some juice into a glass giving him a moment for him to regroup and push his desire aside. The problem was that his libido must have had his intense desire for Beth on a rubber band because it kept springing right back.

Taking the drink he offered, Buffy floundered around for something to say that would make her sound calmer than she honestly felt. “It’s a gorgeous day outside. Oh, it’s such a shame you can’t go out and enjoy it.” Before her mouth stopped moving, she realized how horribly insensitive her comment had been. She slapped a hand over her mouth that was now doing an impressive imitation of a goldfish.

Not even acknowledging her comment, he poured the remaining part of his and her juice down the sink, and with his head slightly tilted and his scared eyebrow raised, Spike turned and speculatively gazed at her. He didn’t appear mad, but
Beth still felt like a cockroach that should be squished.

But instead of the much deserved squishage, Beth was left trying to get her firmly embedded foot out of her mouth. “I’m sooo sorry.”

Not saying a word, Spike took her hand and pulled her toward the front door.

“I can’t believe I said that. I know – way harsh and way rude.” Beth continued to apologize as he pulled her down the stairs. “I am incredibly sorry. You should know that I would not hurt you on purpose…Where are we going?”

When they reached the small foyer, instead of heading for the door that led to the parking lot as she assumed they were going, he opened a side door and pulled her through. With Beth’s mouth now hanging open, she stopped resisting as they cut through the funeral home’s room that displayed their selection of caskets for sale and out into the main hall.

When William headed for the front door, Beth dug in her heels. “Wait…No, William…Please, I wasn’t daring you.” When his hand was on the doorknob, she shifted from scared to out and out panic mode. “What the hell do you think you are doing? Suicide flambé is so not on the menu today.”

“You should learn to have more faith in me, kitten.” Spike paused long enough to throw a cocky smile back at her before opening the door and stepping out into the bright, sunny day.

Kitten? No meow’s from her since she thought her heart would surely stop when they stepped outside. When her brain came out of shock, she realized that they were under a wide, maroon awning that led across the side of the parking area and over to where green grass of the serene cemetery began. An awing that Beth had unfortunately not seen since she parked in the parking spaces on the other side of the building.

Still holding on to William’s hand, they kept walking out using the shade the awning provided over to the diffused light provided by oak trees. The tall, old trees spread so wide that Beth found it hard to tell where one tree ended and another began. The welcome advantage of the enormous trees was that they provided continuous shade throughout the oldest part of the graveyard.

“William,” Beth jerked her hand out of his grip. “WILLIAM!”

Feeling the loss of her hand in his, Spike stopped to look over his shoulder at her. He didn’t have to be told that Beth with her hands on her hips was bleeding big trouble for him. Spike mentally shrugged, ‘no surprise though.’

Beth made an all encompassing swipe of their surroundings with her arm. “Huh? Let me rephrase that. Huh…What?”

“I said that I was allergic to the sunlight, luv, not that I don’t go out in the day.” When Spike turned to walk further into the graveyard, he just chuckled when he felt her kick him in the ass.

“That was so not of the funny. To think that I was scared for you…you can just burn for all I care. I won’t even visit you in the hospital.” Contrary to her words, however, Beth spent the rest of the walk trying to help him keep safe from any stray rays of light. Making their way through the old section of ornate tome stones, crypts and statuaries, Spike found a tree with a huge trunk so that he could sit against it with her in relative privacy. He sat down with his back against the trunk and then patted the grass beside him as an invitation.

Beth demonstrated her still fuming anger by kicking him in the leg since he was now sitting on his ass. After his “oomph,” she was satisfied, and she sat down against the tree, so she could then enjoy a non-combative silence and happily watch him rub his abused leg.

After calming down, Beth tossed William an olive branch. “This is such a beautiful spot. No wonder you chance daylight to come here.”

“Glad you like it, pet. It’s one of my favorite spots to ponder the various twists and turns of life.” Spike wanted to add that during the last few years, she had provided the biggest twists and turns in his unlife.

Beth’s thoughts were still on the possibility of him getting burned severely. “So…do you go other places besides this in the daytime?”

“When the sun is up, I tend to stray outdoors upon occasions.” When she leaned forward and started to protest the dangerous activity further, he turned toward her and laid a finger on her lips to cease any further protests. “Look, luv, I refuse to live my life in fear like a sodding nancy-boy.” In a huff again, he sat back against the tree. “I guess that philosophy explains the heavy tinted, roll-down shades on the windows of your loft. You must open the curtains during the day. And you the tinted windows on your car so you can go driving when you want.”

Spike sat back and watched the antics of the squirrels and birds among the trees while Beth leaned her head against the tree with eyes closes. Nonetheless, even now that her mouth wasn’t moving, he could tell her mind was still going a mile a minute.

After several quiet minutes, she suddenly turned to face him, gave him a grin, and held up her hands above her head as if holding up some invisible object. “I can just picture you running into this quaint, little shop with an old blanket over your head for protection.” She giggle at her own joke, falsely assuming she had good-naturedly zinged him. Only Spike wasn’t laughing.

‘Where the hell did that came from?’ As stunned as he was, Spike decided to play along with her “joke” instead of lying by denying her unknowingly accurate image. “Well, Miss Smarty Pants, I’ll have you know that I bought a new blanket for such errands.”

His comment transformed Beth’s giggles into laughter, leaving Spike a moment to wonder if she was ever going to put all the pieces of her memories into one picture.
.
Not wanting to know the answer to such a disastrous question, Spike leaned over and placed the fingertips of his hand on the side of her face, ever so gently turning her to look into his eyes. He kissed her while she’s still laughing, capturing her smile and feeling a transfer of her merriment to his own lips.

When she tasted him, her amusement changed to passion with joy staying on as a welcome passenger. Her tongue explored his as her arms crept over his shoulder to hold on tight, not wanting to let him go away, any space between them was excruciatingly too far. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t shared a kiss before. Their first kiss on his bed when she had found him injured, and others shared the next day on his sofa watching TV had been tentative at first but each kiss was just as sweet but more exciting each time. This kiss carried more intensity, more heat, and much more hunger. With the move to another place like as under the oak trees, tranquility permeated their surroundings and called for gentle lovemaking as opposed to hot, devouring sex. Accordingly, the touch of their lips reflected the setting and resulted in a burning but intimate caress.
After the intense taste of her lips, he pulled back looked down into her face. Trying to soak in her golden beauty as she looked up at him with yearning in her hazel eyes, the words escaped out of his mouth on their accord. “So sweet. Oh god, kitten, you are so incredibly sweet.”

‘I’m the sweet one, huh?’ Beth thought while trying to catch her breath. ‘I am going to show you just how sweet *you* are, William.’ With the corners of her mouth beginning to tilt up, Beth’s hand moved from his shoulder up to behind his head and pulled him back down to her. Much too much space between them. Just before their lips met again, she whispered into his slightly open mouth, “Then taste me again, William, or better yet…let me taste you.”

Without being told, Spike intuitively knew to hold as still as he could and follow her lead, which he later thought may have very well been a mistake. Her moist pink tongue slipped out between her lips to follow a trail across his sculpted, upper lip and then back across his oh so sexy, lower lip. When she completed the tasty circuit, she brought the tip of her tongue to the corner of his mouth along the gap between his lips from side to side, but not venturing in. Motionless, Spike continued to follow her, her kisses became an intense fire but still infuriatingly brief. Each quick kiss to follow was punctuated by an impish smile in between.

With a growl starting from deep within him, Spike loved the playfulness, but was also frustrated that she wouldn’t hold still long enough for him to kiss her good and proper. And longer. Grrh.

Belatedly, Spike realized that he had been wrong before. She wasn’t just sweet, but she was also sweet torture. With his need roaring in his ears, Spike tried to take back control, needing to press his mouth to her own and sending the kisses deeper. However, Beth wasn’t ready to relinquish her control. Going on instinct mixed with pleasure, she pulled him down with her to lie in the grass. Now this garden path he was happy to follow her down. Never breaking the kiss, Spike shifted them so he was on his side between her and the tree, rolling her to face him at the same time. Oh, how he wanted to roll on top of her, feeling her body fully against him, but that unfortunately also meant rubbing his very noticeable erection on her. And that implied quite a bit more than he wanted to at this point. Surprising even himself, he wanted to be on his best behavior and take smaller steps with Beth than he and Buffy hand taken, which had really been just one big leap. However, his hand resting on her side didn’t seem to want to follow his restrictive plan and as he stroked her back and her side, his hand slid up to brush just underneath her breast.

Since meeting Beth, Spike left his hair on the top of his head to slightly curl, fearing that the slick back looks would look too familiar. Regardless of the style, Beth was still drawn to the bleach blonde locks. She raised her hand from where it had been resting on his shoulder and entangled her fingers into the side and then the back of his hair, loving the feel of the curls springing free of the gel and listening to him practically purr. With her hand on the back of his head, she slowly but firmly encouraged his lips harder onto her own. While at the same time, she rolled from her side onto her back, taking him with her so that his face was now over hers and the upper part of his body was pressing her down into the thick, cool grass.

Taking in their new position, Spike pulled back, searching her face, trying to decide if Beth realized she was inviting him to more than sharing kisses. The invitation in her eyes and smile on her lips told him that she did. His mouth descended on hers with his tongue passing between her teeth, deeply searching and tasting. And she met his intensity full on, pressing back into the kiss hard enough that her head left the ground. As their passion continued to soar higher, Spike slid his hand up her rib cage to cup her breast and brushed his thumb across her erect nipple. At the contact, Beth moaned into his mouth. Loving her response, Spike brought his index finger and thumb together to gently roll her hard nipple, slightly pulling, causing her to arch up against his hand with a gasp.

Spike would have never guessed show good it felt to lay in the grass enjoying something as simple as kisses and fondling a woman, where in the past, it would have just been a quick prelude to fucking. This interlude with her made his passion soar, kissing instead touching, ecstasy. However, the passion soon soared a little higher when he felt her hand slide over his jeans down his hard shaft to finally cup his cock and balls. So much for the plans of keeping this little and playful. This little kitten was going to show him what she wanted. With their mouths now devouring each other, she continued to stroke his balls as the heal of her hand rubbed up and down his throbbing erection.

Spike had always been careful to breathe when with Beth even though it was unneeded, but Spike was the one to pull back from their kiss, feeling like he needed air instead of her. He closed his eyes for a moment, determined to pull his desire back in check.

Quickly withdrawing her hand from his genitals, Beth started to chew her bottom lip, “Did I do something wrong?
Something I shouldn’t have? Something I should have?”

Spike’s blue eyes shot back open and locked with her hazel eyes. He stroked his hand down the side of her face. “Oh no, pet. The problem is that you did everything so right. But as much as I’m enjoying this, I was just scared that if we went any further like we were headed, I would embarrass myself by coming in my jeans.” Spike winced. ‘A little too graphic, mate,’ Spike thought as he watched her blush.

But then the look of determination reformed to her sparkling, hazel eyes. “I wouldn’t want you to mess up your jeans.”
Contrary to the innocent look on her face, Spike nevertheless felt her hand at the button of his jeans. “So let’s just take them off. Problem solved.”

He reached down and stilled her hand, holding her warmth in his grasp. “Wait a sec, luv, do you know what you are doing?”

Confused, Beth took the question at face value. “I’m not a virgin; I know how to have sex. I’ve only been with three guys, but I’ve figured it out…Is it that you don’t want me?”

“Oh god no, sweetness, I’m flattered that you would want to choose a bloke like me, but what I was asking was if you realize that things would permanently change between us if we were to have sex and would never be able to go back to how they were?” He wanted so much to call it making love but didn’t want to make any implications, and he couldn’t help thinking how sex, which for Buffy had not been making love, had forever changed his relationship with her. After the slayer’s death and resurrection, they had gone from tentative friends and allies to lovers without mutual love, to a horrid mess that never was completely patched up, even after he won his soul and accepted him back as friend and ally.

Still not completely understanding, Beth tilted her and frowned, “Color me confused, but what do you mean?”

Spike rolled onto his back and ran his hand through his hair, freeing any curls that were still held by gel. Trying to push all the painful memories aside for the moment, Spike sighed and looked up at the canopy above them. “I’ve mucked this up. Ok, let’s approach this at a different angle. What happened with the other three guys? Assuming that you weren’t wed and lived happily ever after, so being with me are just weekend binges.” Spike joked with a smile trying to put her back at ease.
Feeling a little more relaxed again, Beth gave a little laugh. “I thought the first one, Andy, was the love of my life. He was the older, mysterious, brooding type. But he left me to go to Los Angeles, thinking I should find someone better. I eventually got over him. You know how first loves go. Embarrassingly enough, the second one, Palmer, was a one-night stand. I was stupid and fell for his full court press. Ugh! The last, Ryan, was a Mr. Perfect. Tall, handsome, boyish charm, always polite. He loved me, and I tried to love him but just couldn’t. He finally left me to go into the military. So, William, you could say that you are a weekend binge, but I don’t have a hubby stuck away back in Sunnydale. Just you in Sacramento and no one else needed.”

“But did stay friends with them.” Spike prodded her further, not as question but more of a statement. “All but Mr. One Night Stand.”

Beth shrugged. “Not close buddies but friends. Well, distant friends.”

Spike quietly stared at the leaves and shadows above for a few minutes. He had not failed to notice how closely her boyfriends in this reality resembled her relationships with Angel, Parker, and Riley. Even the names were very close. But he also had noticed that any facsimile of him had not been part of her new life. The only question was if Buffy and The Power That Be had not wanted any semblance of him in her new life or his history with her had yet to be written. For that matter was their history being written now? If so, he prayed to any god that would listen that this time they did not mirror the first time around. If he was truly blessed with this second chance, he was going to make sure to avoid the awful mistakes from before. And the start with Beth had been promising, knock on wood. Beth was not holding anything back and obviously wanted him. Something he was still getting use to. But Spike still had worries for the future. Taking in a deep breath, he prepared himself to open up to her as much as he can in an effort to further explain his withdrawl. “I couldn’t stand to be a small recreational detour of your life. I know it sounds sappy, but I would rather just be friends than to later walk away as ex-lovers. Like you, I’ve had only three lovers. One was like your one night stand, a few more nights longer but a bump in the road you later say, ‘Bloody hell, I should have driven around instead.’ The other two I loved.” Spike paused, fearing that his voice would crack in the next part. “One left me for another…man, shredding my heart she walked away. With the last, what started out as animosity became adoration, and I ended up loving her more than life. But this little tale ends badly also. Regardless of how hard I tried, it never really worked out between us because she could never justify being with me, no matter how she felt. And in all honesty, I didn’t deserve her. Maybe given more time…but it ended before that.” Spike thought of the irony of telling Beth, the reincarnation of Buffy, about his relationship from start to finish with Buffy. One of those sodding cosmic jokes he supposed.

He moved to sit back up again the tree, and she followed suite. “I’m sorry, William. Those two women were both fools.”
“Well, the cosmic jokes kept coming,’ Spike thought. Now the reincarnation of Buffy was trying to comfort him about his failed relationships with Dru and Buffy herself.

Both were silent for a moment, thinking while listening to the sound of wind in the trees.

Breaking the companionable pause, Spike tried to continue his explanation. “What I have taken the long way around to tell you is that as much as I l…like you and enjoy being with you, I can’t go through all the pain again. Up until now, we have just been having fun, going out, spending time together, harmless kisses, but if we go to that next level of intimacy, I just couldn’t stand to loose…”

To stop his nervous but touching speech, she put her hand on the side of his face, forcing him to turn his head to look at her. When she could look into his eyes, Beth leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “William. You are not a bump while driving, not even a detour. I don’t know where this between us is headed, but believe me, I’m on the exact road I sincerely want to be. So relax, worry man. I know this kind of intimacy will change our relationship, but I want that change and I want this between us to work.” She shifted around to lay back down, this time using his thighs for a pillow. “Hell, I wanted to hop in your bed since that first day in the mall, and when I walked away that day, I knew that I should be with you. So let’s kick back, relax and enjoy this little, beautiful spot and the animal follies.”

When she finally felt the tense muscles of his legs relax under her head, she reached her hand back in a silent request for him to hold. After a hesitation, she felt his hand grasp her own, and then she brought it around to lie on her stomach so she could draw whimsical patterns on the back of his hand. Beth smiled when she felt him start playing with her hair. She first felt him wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger and then rhythmically stroking. His simple caresses soon lulled her asleep. Not that he didn’t still have worries about the future, Spike smiled down at her as he continued caressing her, pleased to see that, if judging by the smile on her beautiful face, she must be having a pleasant dream, hopefully dreaming of him just as he dreamed of her night after night.

*****

TBC

Thanks so much for the reviews.

Reviews are very much appreciated because they so often help me refine my ideas.

MadRog
madrog@sunnydale-tales.com
www.sunnydale-tales.com