Chapter 1 – Change of Plans


Tilting her head to look at the painting, Buffy tasted her champagne, idly staring at the piece of art as she brushed her hair away from her cheek, almost wanting to get a better look.

“Beautiful.”

Turning at the sound of the British accent, Buffy arched an eyebrow at the blonde man standing next to her. “It is,” she said with a slight nod of agreement.

“I meant the admirer,” he replied with a slow smirk, eyeing her up and down as he bit his bottom lip, taking in the curves that were accentuated by the black dress.

Nearly laughing as she shook her head, Buffy sighed. “Please tell me that line doesn’t normally work.”

“Wouldn’t know, love. Never tried it before. I’m William Reed,” he said, holding out his hand.

The familiarity of the name stuck with her as she accepted his hand, smiling when he gently kissed the back of it. “Buffy Summers.”

“So, Buffy Summers, are you in the art business?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her in interest.

“I dabble,” she said with a soft smile, watching as William grabbed two champagne flutes from a waiter’s tray, waiting until Buffy set her glass on the tray and accepted the one that he offered.

“Dabble?” he asked after a moment, glancing around the art gallery as the people continued to mill around, looking at the expensive pieces.

“My mother was an artist,” she said, turning her attention back to the painting.

“Summers,” William said softly, seemingly considering the name. “Can’t say I remember that name.”

“Robertson,” Buffy corrected. “She didn’t go by ‘Summers’.”

“Joyce Robertson,” he said in a quiet tone, nodding as he placed the name. “I was sorry to hear about her passing.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, glancing down at the champagne, watching the liquid lap at the sides of the crystal.

“Are you an artist?”

“Not really,” Buffy replied with a soft smile, avoiding his eyes as she glanced around the room. “I think it’s relaxing to paint, but I wouldn’t qualify myself as an artist.”

“I’m sure you’re being too hard on yourself,” he said with a soft smile.

Risking a glance across the room, Buffy frowned when she saw Rupert Giles gesturing to her before she slowly turned to face William. “Sorry to cut this short,” she said with a regretful smile. “I think it’s about time I call it a night.”

“Understandable,” he replied, checking his Rolex. “I have to be off, myself. Would you care for a ride?”

“Thank you, but I drove myself,” she said with a slight nod.

“In that case…would you mind if I gave you a call sometime?”

Raising an eyebrow at the abruptness of his approach, Buffy slowly smiled. “Actually, I would,” she said, biting her lip to suppress the giggle at his downcast expression. “I can give you a call, though.”

Smiling when he realized what she was saying, he reached into his pocket, handing her a business card with no business insignia on it. Buffy frowned but didn’t say anything, looking at the card.

“Thanks,” she said softly, raising her eyes to his. “I’ll hold onto this.”

“Good to know,” he said, taking her hand for the second time that night and leaving a soft kiss on it.

Seeing that Giles was getting increasingly frustrated, she quickly excused herself and made her way through the lobby of the gallery, glancing around before following the older man outside through a side door that led into an alley.

Making sure that they were alone, Giles turned to Buffy with a disbelieving expression. “What were you doing?”

“What?” she asked in confusion.

“You were talking to Spike Reed.”

Buffy’s eyes widened as she glanced over her shoulder, looking at the door of the gallery. “I-I didn’t recognize him…the hair and the…are you sure that was him?”

“Positive,” the older man replied. “What did he want?”

“He was…he was flirting with me,” she said softly.

“Flirting with you?” he repeated, waiting until Buffy nodded. “And there was no sign of O’Neill?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, turning back to her boss. “But those two don’t exactly run in the same circles, so they’ll probably avoid each other, won’t they?” she asked, still mildly surprised at the newest revelations of the night.

“More than likely,” Giles said, glancing at the door. “If Reed is planning something, O’Neill will want to stay away.”

“So tonight is a bust?”

“Not necessarily,” he said, a slight smile coming over him as he formulated a plan.

“I don’t like that look, Giles,” Buffy said, narrowing her eyes as her nerves took over.

“Instead of infiltrating O’Neill…I think we’re going to have a change of plans.”

“This is not good,” she muttered with a sigh.

* * * * *

“And since Reed has apparently taken a liking to Agent Summers, we are having a change in the schedule,” Giles informed the group of people the next day as he slowly cleaned his glasses with a soft cloth. “Angelus O’Neill will still be on the agenda, but he’s to be pushed farther back.”

“I don’t like this, sir,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “O’Neill is the cold-blooded murderer and seemingly bigger danger. Wouldn’t it make sense to go after him first?”

“O’Neill is in Europe,” Giles replied, gaining the undivided attention of everyone in the room. “London, apparently, which pushes Reed up on the priority list. And since we have a clear window of opportunity, Agent Summers will go undercover and work from the inside. Any questions?” he asked, looking around the room at the group of FBI agents. “Very well. Meeting adjourned.”

Nervously chewing on her thumbnail, Buffy stayed where she was while everyone filed out of the room.

“You needn’t worry, Buffy,” Giles said, straightening some papers on his desk before walking over to her and handing her a thick file. “Everything you need to know on Spike Reed. He’s a dangerous criminal, but I feel safer assigning you to this than waiting around for Angelus to show his face. So what’s the problem?”

“I was prepared for Angelus,” she replied. “I don’t know anything about Spike Reed.”

“That’s what the file is for,” he said, gesturing to the folder that was now resting in front of her.

“Thanks, Giles,” she murmured, looking up at her surrogate father, the man responsible for her having a career in the Bureau. Picking up the file, she pushed her chair back with trepidation, listening to it scraping along the floor, before walking out the door.

Running a hand through her hair as she took a deep breath, Buffy looked at the heavy file before proceeding to walk to her office. Nearly slamming the door, she closed her eyes as she leaned against it.

‘How are you going to do this?’ she asked herself. She didn’t know Spike, but she knew his reputation and she knew that being moderately attracted to a criminal at first glance was not a good thing. ‘At least I can fight that,’ she thought. And opening the file was a good way to remind her of that fact as she skimmed over the first page.

One of the most brutal businessmen in the world, William Reed (alias ‘Spike’) is a resourceful and cunning criminal- he’s never served time, though charges have been brought forward on four prior occasions. Once he starts something, he doesn’t stop until everything in his path is neutralized. Rich, powerful, and not afraid to buy what he wants- businesses, material possessions, or people, he is a millionaire many times over. After inheriting his money from his family, he proceeded to take the family business and turn it into something even larger. Known as ‘William the Bloody’ in the business world (the name perhaps originated in his dealings with the crime world as well, but that has never been proven) he is a ruthless manipulator.

A very dangerous individual and a known, but not convicted, murderer, he has allegedly killed several who are attached, in some form, to Angelus O’Neill. The two of them used to be friends, but frequently get more pleasure out of hating each other.

A fan of the Impressionist painters, and while he has legally purchased a large number of pieces, he seems to enjoy stealing them more so than owning them. Often described as cold-blooded and unfeeling…

Closing the file, Buffy threw it on her desk, not wanting to read anymore.

“You’re an FBI agent,” she said, needing to give herself a pep talk. “You can handle yourself with men twice your size, so don’t get a jelly belly now. You finally got an assignment that’s important.”

Hearing the knock on the door, Buffy turned and opened it, mildly surprised when she saw Giles on the other side.

“Here’s the information for your identity,” he said, handing her a small file folder.

“I kind of already told him my name is Buffy Summers,” she said with a sheepish expression.

“I thought as much. You’re listed in the Bureau as Elizabeth Summers, so there’s not much of a connection. I’m sure he will or has already had your background checked out, and because we successfully covered your identity when we thought you were going after O’Neill, it won’t be a problem. All of the normal information is still relevant- this includes your passport and other documents for the name ‘Buffy Summers’.”

“Independent art dealer, extraordinaire,” she said with a nod, confirming the cover story that most people knew.

“When do you plan to make contact?”

“Soon,” she said with a nod. “I’ll use my cell phone from home- there’s too much of a chance that another agent might walk in on me here and I don’t want to worry about my cover being ruined.”

“That’s fine. The arrangements have been made for a tracking device. It won’t have a video or audio feed at this time. Reed is a smart man, and I’d prefer him to be completely comfortable with you,” he said, turning toward the door.

“And kill me,” Buffy filled in.

“You know the odds of that happening,” Giles said, not sparing her a glance.

“Giles?” she said, drawing his attention back to her as she nervously fidgeted by her desk. “I’m supposed to get into a relationship with him…this guy is one of the most powerful men in the country.”

“All the more reason why we need to take him down, Buffy,” he replied.

“What happens if he wants to take me on his private jet and fly us out of the country somewhere? You know he spends most of his time in London, and it’s not like that’s my comfort zone. If I don’t want to blow my cover, I have to go, and if I go…I’m alone.”

“Buffy,” he said in a gentle tone. “You’re one of the most capable agents I know. If anyone can handle what Spike Reed can dish out, it would be you.”

“And what if he ‘dishes out’ his gun and that’s the end of it?”

Giles stayed quiet for a moment before gently patting Buffy’s shoulder. “He would never kill an innocent woman.”

“What about an undercover FBI agent?” she asked, her jaw clenching as she looked at him.

“Very easy solution to that problem, Agent Summers,” Giles said, reverting back to her boss.

“And what’s that, sir?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t get caught.”

Chapter 2 – Covert Conversation


“Don’t get caught,” Buffy muttered, slamming the door of her house later that day. “Easy for him to say.”

Shrugging out of her coat and dropping the file on Spike Reed onto a nearby table, she slowly walked through the house, tossing her keys on the kitchen island as she went over to the counter. Hitting the button for the answering machine, she thumbed through her mail, sorting out the bills as the messages began.

“Hey, Buff, it’s me.”

Buffy smiled at the sound of her best friend’s chipper tone.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in months. Give me a call sometime soon before I get really worried about you. We’ll have to go out to lunch on a day that you’re not too busy with work. I miss you.”

“Miss you, too, Willow,” she said softly, flipping through her mail, making a mental note to call her friend as it clicked over to the next message.

“Just a reminder that you won’t be required to come into the office, Buffy. All dealings for the next transaction deal can be handled over the company cell phone.”

“Subtle, Giles,” she muttered. “Do you think that Reed has already tapped my phone?” she asked the empty house, ripping open an envelope and looking at the contents before tossing it onto the counter and starting on the next bill.

Her entire body seemed to paralyze when the machine clicked over to the next message.

“Miss Summers.”

Hearing Spike’s voice broadcasted through her kitchen, she reflexively gripped the countertop, unsure of what to make of this new development.

“Forgive the surprise of me calling, since you never actually gave me your number. What can I say? Couldn’t wait.”

The smile was obvious in his voice as Buffy turned toward the machine, staring at it as if Spike would materialize from it at any moment.

“You see, I know it’s late notice, but I’m having a dinner party tonight and would love it if you could make it. I trust that you still have my card…don’t hesitate to use it.”

The click of the phone sounded through the room, leaving Buffy to contemplate what he had just said. He had obviously called recently, since his message was after Giles’. She knew that her personal information was covered since the Bureau had been planning to infiltrate her into O’Neill’s life, if it had been at all possible, but that didn’t mean that Spike couldn’t have had her followed that morning.

What if he’d had her followed to work and now he was setting her up?

“Only one way to find out,” she whispered to herself, picking up the cordless phone and staring at it for a long moment.

She briefly considered calling Giles to get his opinion on the situation but decided against it. This was her first big case, and although it wasn’t exactly a solo mission, she would be doing it on her own. She couldn’t call her mentor every time something unnerved her. Especially considering this was her assignment and Spike was making it that much easier for her.

Dialing the number that she had memorized, Buffy listened to the ringing tone, biting her lip as she paced around her kitchen.

Reaching for the button to disconnect the call after several long moments, she stopped when she heard his voice.

“Hello?”

Opening her mouth, she prepared to say ‘Spike’, realizing that he hadn’t told her his nickname. “Mr. Reed,” she said after a moment, trying to keep her voice light, reminding herself that she was a federal agent.

“Miss Summers?” he replied in a pleased tone. “I trust that you’re calling to accept my invitation?”

“It’s Buffy. And you’re awfully sure of yourself, Mr. Reed,” she said softly, hearing him pacing along the floor.

“You don’t get where I am by being uncertain about things, Buffy,” he replied in a smug voice, her name practically rolling off his tongue. “My confidence and resolution is what got me here in the first place. And call me Spike.”

“Spike?” she repeated, feigning innocence.

“Nickname. Got it through some old business associates.”

‘I’ll bet,’ Buffy thought, biting her lip.

Inhaling softly to calm her nerves, she ran her hand along the countertop, trying to distract herself as she watched it glide along the tile. “Listen, Spike, about tonight-”

“I’ll have a limo pick you up at eight o’clock.”

Blinking in surprise, Buffy opened and closed her mouth several times to respond. “I didn’t exactly accept,” she finally said, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice.

“Why prolong the inevitable?” he asked with a smile in his tone.

Realizing that he was used to having women at his beck and call, Buffy finally relaxed, turning around to hop up on the counter as she realized how she could play this game. “Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline your offer, Mr. Reed,” she said, practically sensing his back straightening as the good humor in his tone vanished.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not a one-night stand or a potential conquest. I’m afraid that I don’t like people making my decisions for me. Have a nice evening, Mr. Reed.”

Smiling when she heard him practically sputtering on the other end of the phone, Buffy tilted her head to the side, listening intently.

“Buffy, wait.”

“Waiting,” she replied, checking her nails.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding genuine for the first time. “I would appreciate it if you would be in attendance tonight, Miss Summers,” he continued, taking on a higher class British accent.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” she said softly. “I guess that would be okay. And I told you to call me Buffy.”

“Sounds good, love. I’ll have a car for you at eight.”

“How do you know where I live?” she asked, knowing exactly how he knew.

“It’s my job.”

“Really?” she replied skeptically as if she had no idea who he was. “Interesting job.”

“You have no idea,” he said in a seductive whisper.

* * * * *

Standing in her room an hour later, Buffy studied the halter dress that accentuated all of her best assets. Looking at the plunging neckline, crimson silk, and flowing skirt as the fabric whispered along the floor, she continued to critique her appearance. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant twist, leaving a few face-framing pieces loose to complete the look.

Finishing the minor touch-ups on her make-up, she quickly slipped on her high-heeled sandals before walking to the closet.

Flipping through the contents for a moment, she smiled when she found the matching silk shawl, turning around to toss it on her bed. Picking out a purse, she glanced down at the floor before taking a deep breath. Gathering her dress and carefully dropping to her knees, she raised the false board at the bottom of the wardrobe, extracting the smallest gun she owned.

Quickly checking the bullets, she glanced longingly at the Heckler & Koch USP MATCH resting off to the side, debating for a moment before shaking her head. One gun was enough of a risk, and considering it was her first night discovering things about Spike, she couldn’t jeopardize her position by taking the heavier gun. It would come later, when she was more in her comfort zone around him and his home. Compensating for the smaller gun, she grabbed a switchblade and secured it in the lining of her purse.

Putting the gun in its sheath on her inner thigh, she let her dress fall back to the floor, turning every way imaginable to make sure that there were no noticeable lines that would indicate she was armed.

Satisfied that she wouldn’t be discovered and that she had proper protection if she was, Buffy slowly nodded as if she was giving her reflection courage.

“It’s show-time.”





Thanks so much to: lacey, flibble, BuffyandSpikeForever, gypsy_jin, Sevvy_O, willowmouse, & Carrosparro for reviewing!

Chapter 3 – False Impressions


Fidgeting the entire way to the mansion, Buffy nervously adjusted her skirt a half a dozen times as the limo continued to its destination. Topping the hill, she could see the lights in the distance, raising an eyebrow at the huge grassy plain that sat in front of the house, blocking it from the view of the gates as the driveway wrapped around the hill, bringing the house into view.

“It’s a helicopter landing,” she whispered to herself, looking at the hill for a moment before focusing on the house. The spacious grounds were meticulously landscaped, accentuating the size of the house as they approached. Dozens of cars were parked on the long driveway, and guests were still walking up the stone steps and disappearing behind the open double doors, where a chandelier could be seen in the foyer.

“Oh boy,” she murmured, biting her lip when the limousine came to a stop. Clutching her purse as the driver walked around the car and opened her door, she immediately became the person she needed to be.

Graciously taking his offered hand and allowing him to assist her out of the car, she smiled and thanked him, securing her shawl more firmly around her, idly wondering why she chose a dress that was the color of blood.

Keeping an indifferent expression on her face, she slowly walked up the main steps, raising an eyebrow when she was immediately stopped by two oversized men in tuxedos.

“Invitation, Miss.”

“I don’t have an invitation,” she said with an edge to her voice.

“Then you’re not getting in there.”

“My invitation was by phone,” she said, tightening her arms around her body.

“Yeah, yours and a whole bunch of other people who want in,” the other man informed her. “No invite, no entry.”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy turned and began her descent down the steps. It wasn’t worth the fight- she would find some other way to get to Reed.

Listening to the sound of her heels clicking against the stone, she stopped when she heard her name. Turning around with a raised eyebrow, Buffy tightened her arms around her body, pulling her shawl closer to her as she watched Spike seemingly appear out of nowhere, running down the steps.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked with a smile when he stopped in front of her.

“Apparently I’m not a wanted guest,” she said, glancing up at the muscle by the door.

Spike looked over his shoulder, clenching his jaw when he realized what happened. He turned around as he took a deep breath, giving Buffy his most charming smile. “Sorry about that, pet,” he said before dropping his voice to a whisper. “Please don’t leave.”

“You really want me here?” she asked quietly, glancing up at the imposing mansion.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he replied, taking her hand in his and slowly leading her up the steps.

Silently following him, her hand firmly clasped in his, she watched with interest as he maneuvered her until his hand was resting on the small of her back, guiding her through the door. Practically sensing the glare that was coming from him, she tilted her head, catching his whispered words as they passed the two employees at the door.

“Didn’t I tell you to ask for names?” he asked in a menacing voice that Buffy could barely hear. “You better hope I’m in a better mood tomorrow.”

Wrapping an arm around Buffy’s waist, he led her through the throngs of people.

“Powerful man,” Buffy observed, feeling him tense slightly before he threaded his way through the crowd, smiling and offering handshakes as they walked, never letting his other hand leave her back.

“And apparently popular,” she continued with a smile, finally feeling his eyes on her.

“I would have thought you’d have figured out that much,” he said with an amused smile.

“Figured out…what?” she asked, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Pulling her into a quiet corner, he looked at her for a moment, almost as if he was searching for something. “You don’t know who I am?” he asked quietly, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“William Reed,” Buffy replied, looking around the interior of the house. “Apparently called Spike and very expensive taste. Should I know you?”

‘She doesn’t know who I am,’ he thought in amazement. ‘A man who has been on more power lists than most celebrities, and she has no idea who I am.’

“No,” he said with a charming smile. “Not at all.”

“Well, apparently you’re someone important, or all these people wouldn’t show up,” she said with a smile. “Unless they just want the free food.”

“More like the free drinks,” Spike corrected with a grin, leading her away from the crowded area and through some back halls.

“And where are you taking me, Mr. Reed?” she asked with a smile.

“Someplace we can have a little more privacy,” he said, turning to look at her with a wink. Seeing the look on her face, he continued, “Not what you think.”

“I hope not,” she replied, looking at him with a teasing expression. “I’d hate for you to go to sleep tonight as half the man you are now.”

Raising an eyebrow at the suggestion, Spike gently took her hand in his, running his thumb along her fingernails. “And the kitten has claws,” he said in amusement.

“Surprised?”

“Pleased,” he replied, never letting go of her hand.

Continuing their walk through the house, Buffy tried to subtly become accustomed to her surroundings, taking in the spacious rooms and high ceilings.

Frowning when he brought her to a back door, she looked at him quizzically, surprisingly put at ease when he smiled at her. Following him through the door, she looked at the beautifully landscaped backyard, the lights shimmering off of the huge pool as a few of the guests mingled around the deck.

Bypassing them quickly, Spike led her further into the gardens until the sounds of the party were whispers in the night.

The comforting feel of her gun brushing against her thigh when she walked kept her from shying away when he continued to lead her further away.

“Spike?” she said, letting an appropriate amount of nervousness enter her voice, reminding herself that she was supposed to be a helpless young woman. “I-I don’t really like this.”

“Just a little further, love,” he whispered, turning toward her and gently cupping her cheek in his hand. “I want to show you something.”

“If that’s some kind of sexual innuendo, buddy, you’ve got another thing coming,” she said with a teasing smile, hearing his answering chuckle.

“I promise, nothing sexual…unless you decide to initiate it, that is,” he said with a sly smile, earning a light slap on the chest from Buffy.

Spike took her hand, leading her further down the path. Unable to see the house anymore, she finally stopped, a playful smirk on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me why a strange man, who I just met, tracks me down, invites me to his house, and leads me out to the middle of nowhere when I’ve barely even known him for fifteen minutes.”

Smiling as he grabbed her hands and walked backwards, he led her through a small clump of trees, revealing a breathtaking view of the ocean.

“That’s why,” he replied.

“That’s not an answer,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off the crashing waves below them as the moonlight reflected off the glassy surface.

Walking behind her, his hands intimately grasped her hips as he looked at the view of the ocean from over her shoulder. Staying quiet for a long minute, he finally responded, “Maybe I just wanted to share this with someone.”

Listening to what he said, Buffy rolled her eyes with a disbelieving smile on her face, shoving his hands away from her body and walking back to the path.

“Buffy?”

Turning around to face him with a heavy sigh, she shook her head, looking up at the sky. “I swear, you’re all the same,” she said with a slight laugh.

“Who?” he asked in confusion.

“Men!” she cried in exasperation. “It’s always ‘how fast can we get under her skirt’. Did it ever occur to you that not all women are the plastic bimbos you’re used to? I don’t fall for the smooth lines or the ‘love at first sight’ crap…”

Forgetting for a moment that she was undercover, Buffy trailed off, hoping she hadn’t just blown it with her little outburst.

Stunned into silence for a moment, Spike stared at her, his lips parted in an unreadable expression.

“Look,” Buffy said after a moment, taking a deep breath as she stared at the ocean in the distance. “I’m flattered…really. Girls like me aren’t usually singled out by the…millionaires,” she said, struggling to find a word as she gestured in the direction of the house. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to compromise anything to get closer to you. I just…I’m not swayed by the attitude and the money and the…whatever else you have,” she continued, noticing the slight smile as he glanced at the ground before his eyes raised to hers once again.

Unable to say anything else, Buffy turned to leave, knowing that she was possibly compromising something.

Her job.

If she failed this assignment before it really began, she didn’t want to think about the consequences. But she also wasn’t willing to jump into the bed of a known criminal just to get some information that may or may not help the Bureau.

“I’m sorry.”

Buffy stopped when she heard the voice behind her, nearly breathing a sigh of relief that she hadn’t blown it.

Turning to face him, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt as he approached her with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, a sheepish expression on his face.

“You’re right…I am used to getting my way with ‘smooth lines’ and money. It’s never exactly hurt my chances when it came to my…company…in the past. And I’m sorry if I insulted you.”

Smiling slightly as she looked at the ground, she brushed her hair away from her face before looking up at him again. “You didn’t insult me,” she said, shaking her head. “I just…you hear one line, you’ve heard them all and…maybe I should go,” she finished, slipping back into ‘character’ as she gestured over her shoulder, hoping that he would do what she planned.

“No,” he said quickly, taking a step toward her as Buffy tried to hide her smug look. “I mean,” he continued in a slightly nervous voice. “If you’d rather go…I understand, but if you want to stay…”

He trailed off, tilting his head to look at her.

Deciding to surprise him once again, she took a step forward, looking up at him as if she was searching for something. “On one condition,” she finally said, staring at him with an unwavering gaze. “You drop the act. Because if you really want to get to know me, then that’s fine, but I’m telling you right now that you will not be getting me into your bed tonight.”

“Direct, aren’t you?” he said with a slight smile.

“I’m just letting you know…if that’s your goal tonight, you won’t be reaching it with me.”

Seeing the strength that she possessed and the spark in her eyes, Spike nodded. “Alright, Miss Summers,” he said with a gentle smile, offering her his arm, which she happily took. “I believe there’s a party that we should be attending.”





Thanks so much to: Stephanie, Carrosparro, Caitie, lacey, Jessie, jenny, Raven, willowmouse, Shippy, Cordykitten, BuffyandSpikeForever, gypsy_jin, Livia, Alison, Kelly, Megan, Celia & spikette55 for reviewing!

Chapter 4 – Open Opportunities


Standing at the top of the stairs, Buffy tried to maintain some distance from the partygoers. She had been there several hours, and even though Spike had been attentive toward her, he still had to play the role of host, leaving her alone every now and then.

Staring over the railing, she looked at the hundreds of people who were still wandering the ballroom and foyer of the mansion. Feeling someone walk up behind her, she tensed when an unfamiliar hand settled on the small of her back.

“Unless you want to pull back a bloody stump, I suggest you remove your hand,” Buffy said, tightening her jaw.

Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at the sight of the middle-aged man standing behind her.

“I’m assuming you have a purpose for touching me, but I’m thinking it’s just because you’re looking to get lucky.”

“Charming girl,” he said in a British accent, offering her a smile that might have been attractive if her ‘creep radar’ wasn’t going off the charts. “I’m Ethan Rayne.”

Buffy watched, raising an eyebrow when he extended a hand toward her, making it known she wasn’t interested in meeting him.

“Is there a problem?”

Turning at the sound of Spike’s voice, she gave him a dazzling smile, grateful that he was there to rescue her from the other man. Not that she needed rescuing, but she appreciated the gesture.

“Not a problem, Spike,” Ethan said, putting a friendly arm around the younger man, earning a glare from Spike in return. “I was just introducing myself to this lovely young woman.”

“I think she can do without your introduction, Ethan,” Spike said with a cold smile, walking over to Buffy.

“Can you blame me?” he asked, looking at the younger man. “I had to discover the woman who seems to have you so enamored by her presence.”

Stepping closer to Spike, Buffy looked at the older man through narrowed eyes. She was definitely not getting good vibes from him.

“Buffy Summers, meet Ethan Rayne,” Spike said after a moment, his tone of voice making it obvious that he didn’t want them to meet.

Accepting his hand, she kept an indifferent expression on her face when Ethan lifted her hand to his mouth, leaving a lingering kiss on the back of it.

Feeling Spike’s hold on her waist tighten, she felt relieved when he forcefully pulled her away from the other man, offering him a slight smile when he looked up, meeting Spike’s gaze with a slightly startled expression.

“Good seeing you, Ethan,” Spike said, guiding Buffy away from him and down the hall, not bothering to wait for a response. “God, I hate these parties,” he groaned, causing a genuine smile to play on Buffy’s lips.

“Then why do you throw them?” she asked in amusement.

“One of those expectations that I can’t seem to get away from,” he replied, leading them out to the privacy of the balcony.

Looking at the view as people milled around below them, Buffy took a deep breath, letting it calm her nerves.

“What do you do, Goldilocks?”

“What?” she asked, looking over at him and seeing him watching her with interest.

“Your job.”

“Oh,” she said, smiling in comprehension. “I’m an independent art dealer.”

“Really?” he asked with a smile. “Wouldn’t think that would be your chosen profession.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, turning toward him with a smile of her own.

“You just seem a little too…strong, I guess is the word.”

Her smile immediately melted away as she turned to look at the view once more. “Strong?” she repeated, shifting on her feet and feeling the gun brush against her thigh, putting her at ease.

“You just exude this confidence and assurance,” he clarified. “Definitely assumed that you were a strong woman.”

“And I can’t be that if I’m an art dealer?” she asked, relaxing enough to look into his eyes again.

“Guess I just figured you’d own a martial arts studio or something,” he said, laughing and shaking his head at the absurdity of what he was saying. “Forget it,” he continued, chuckling. “Don’t know what I’m saying- must have had too much to drink already.”

Giggling softly for a moment, Buffy paused when she saw his thoughtful expression.

“And what do you do?” she asked after a moment.

“I own a company in Los Angeles,” he said, avoiding her eyes.

“And the ‘company’ gave you this fully-furnished mansion and limousine?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That was my dad’s,” he said softly. “Everything you see in the house was inherited from some family member.”

‘And everything I don’t see?’ she wondered silently.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re easy to talk to, love?”

“You haven’t really talked to me that much,” she answered with a smile.

“Guess I haven’t,” he replied with a slight nod. “But I feel a hell of a lot more relaxed than I have in a long time.”

“That’s always good to know,” she said quietly, pulling her shawl closer to her to ward off the chilly night air.

Seeing her discomfort, Spike quickly shrugged out of his coat, draping it around her shoulders in one fluid movement. Turning toward him, Buffy felt her stomach tighten when she watched him tenderly adjust the collar, letting his hands linger on the fabric as his eyes met hers.

“Thanks,” she murmured, blushing under his gaze, seeing the way his eyes were drifting from her eyes to her lips. Her breath caught in her throat when he slowly tilted his head toward her, seconds before she turned away, narrowly avoiding the brush of his lips against hers and causing him to pause for a long moment, trying to figure out what had just happened.

“Why me?” Buffy asked with interest, swallowing hard at the thought of the near-kiss.

“Why you?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow, standing up to his full height, trying not to think about the rejection he’d just received.

“Look around, Spike,” she said, gesturing toward the crowded area below them. “I’m not the most beautiful woman here. I’m not the smartest, the richest, the most confident. I’m just me. That’s all I know how to be. So…why me?”

Spike stayed quiet for a moment, solemnly studying her as if he was trying to figure out if she was serious or not. “Why not you?” he replied.

“Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve had women drooling over you all night- probably your whole life- and you’re standing here with me. You obviously have everything you could ever want…is this just some kind of game to you?” she asked, trying to keep the accusation out of her tone.

“No,” he said softly. “Is it so hard to believe that I might be genuinely interested in you?”

‘Yes,’ Buffy silently told herself, outwardly shrugging.

“You’ve been hurt before,” he said softly, finally understanding where she was coming from when her eyes raised to his.

“Hasn’t everyone?” she whispered, seeing him contemplate what she said for a moment before nodding.

“So tell me, Miss Summers,” Spike said, offering her a smile while he readjusted the collar of his coat that was still securely wrapped around Buffy. “Is it worth the risk?”

“Maybe,” she replied softly.

Looking down for a moment, Spike took a deep breath before raising his eyes to hers again. “Will you have dinner with me?”

“Will this be a quaint little dinner party like tonight?” she asked in a teasing voice.

“I was thinking more of a one-on-one scenario,” he said, looking at the crowd below him with disdain.

“And will I get to know the real Spike Reed?” she asked, seeing the flash of something unidentifiable cross his face before it disappeared.

“We’ll see what happens,” he said in a teasing voice, but Buffy could hear the underlying truth in the statement. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that he would just open up to her after knowing her for such a short time, but she was definitely not going to let this opportunity pass her by, giving him a bright smile before she spoke.

“When and where?”



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Chapter 5 – Know Your Work


Standing in front of the mansion a few days later, Buffy took a deep breath, uneasy with the situation.

This would be the first night that she would be with Spike without the shadowing company of hundreds of other people within reach.

Now they would be alone.

Ringing the doorbell, Buffy smoothed the black pants she was wearing, fidgeting with the silky cream-colored top while she waited. Narrowly refraining from biting her lip when the door opened, she tried to smile at the man on the other side.

“You’re here for Mr. Reed, I presume,” he said in an upper class British accent.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Come in,” he said, opening the door wider for her to enter.

“Thank you,” she murmured, walking into the house and actually getting a chance to look at the impressive foyer, the marble floors, and the beautiful chandelier now that the area was empty.

“I shall tell Mr. Reed you’ve arrived.”

“Thank you,” Buffy repeated, wandering around the foyer. Seeing the crystal vases, expensive modern art, and numerous antiques that decorated the area, she took a deep breath, feeling truly out of her element. “The man does have good taste,” she muttered to herself.

“Why thank you.”

Spinning around at the sound of the smug voice, Buffy flushed nervously when she realized that Spike was right behind her. Opening and closing her mouth a few times, she gave a nervous laugh, caught off-guard at the sight of him in black jeans and a black shirt that seemed to be molded to his muscular chest.

“Wasn’t too hard to find again when you were driving, was it?” he asked, gesturing to the house.

“No,” Buffy said, shaking her head and wringing her hands together to have something to do. “Not hard at all. Unhard as a matter of fact,” she said with another slight laugh, seeing Spike smile at her.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked, effortlessly slipping into the role of host as he led her through the house and into the formal dining room, walking toward the bar.

“Um…martini, if you’ve got it.”

‘Good job, Summers, start drinking on the job,’ she said to herself before nearly rolling her eyes. ‘The man expects you to drink- it’s…in character,’ she thought, nearly nodding her head in satisfaction.

“Dinner won’t be ready for a few minutes,” he said a moment later, walking toward her and handing her the drink of her choice. “Would you like me to show you around?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but she realized it would be in her best interest to learn the layout of the house since she didn’t see much of it the night of the party. “Sounds great,” she said with a smile, blushing slightly when he took her hand in his and began leading her through the spacious hallways.

After seeing nearly every room that was downstairs, Buffy was guided into a room near the back of the house with a spectacular view of the pool. Looking at the deep cherry wood and burgundy leather couches and chairs, she had to smile. “Is it really wise to have an office that overlooks the pool? I wouldn’t think you’d get much work done,” she teased.

Smiling in response, Spike shrugged. “It motivates me to finish whatever I’m working on,” he said, walking up behind her, his hand gently resting on her hip. “Care for a swim later?”

“I didn’t bring my suit,” she said softly, turning toward him.

“I won’t complain,” he replied with a smirk, causing her to raise an eyebrow in response.

“Maybe some other time,” she said with a smile, looking at him over her shoulder to see his reaction. Her smile slowly faded when she saw the painting that was hanging on the opposite wall.

“Monet,” she breathed, staring at the beautiful piece of art, turning around to get a better look at it.

“You know it?” Spike asked, tilting his head to study her reaction.

“Not as well known as his haystacks or water lilies,” she said softly.

“The Water Lilies are in the other wing,” he said, looking up at the painting as Buffy turned to face him.

“Excuse me?” she asked with a raised eyebrow that brought a smile to Spike’s face. He didn’t even have to look at her to hear the unasked questions.

“The Clouds,” he clarified. “I believe Water Lilies is currently showcased at the Art Institute of Chicago. Water Lilies-The Clouds is a part of a private collection…mine.”

Blinking rapidly as she turned back to the painting and tried to take in all of the information, her mind was trying to figure out if there had been a Monet stolen in the past few years. Realizing that she didn’t remember seeing it in his file, she finally breathed a sigh of relief, walking a few steps closer, admiring the brush strokes and use of color.

“So tell me about this one,” she said with a flirty smile, turning toward him once again.

“I think you probably know more than I do, love.”

“Humor me,” she said, looking up at him with wide eyes before turning back to the painting.

“Alright,” he said with a slight chuckle. “The Artist's Garden at Vetheuil, quite possibly one of the flattest landscapes ever painted, many things are not individually distinguishable. It raises a number of questions- are the building in the background side-by-side or is one meant to be in front? There are no clouds, no shadows, and the sunflowers have raised numerous questions. The flowers themselves don’t get smaller, as would be normal for a painting, leaving many to believe that it was a wall of flowers at the base of the staircase.”

By the end of his speech, Buffy had looked away from the painting, turning to look at Spike instead.

Feeling her eyes on him, he slowly turned to look at her with a smile. “What do you think?”

“About the painting or the theories?” she asked.

“Either,” he said with a slight shrug as Buffy turned to look at the artwork, letting out a deep breath as her brows furrowed and she bit her lower lip, lost in deep thought.

“Not one of my favorites,” she said after a moment, causing Spike to raise an eyebrow in amusement.

“And why’s that?”

“It shows how talented he was, but it’s just so unlike some of his other work that I think he would have been better off adding some more depth to it.” Seeing the slight smile on his face, Buffy rolled her eyes. “What? What’s that face for?”

“I suppose you’re more of a fan of the haystacks, then?”

Walking away from the painting, she smiled as she shook her head. “The Artist's Garden at Giverny,” she said, looking at him to judge his reaction, seeing the smile pulling at his lips. “Nineteen years after he painted this one…I guess his work just had to mature some more,” she said with a grin.

“Why that one, love?”

“Because it was a water garden- it gave everything such depth and richness. The way he painted them from overhead, intensifying the surroundings.”

“Ever seen it?” Spike asked, following Buffy around the room.

“At the Musée d'Orsay in Paris?” she replied with a smile. “Not exactly in my budget.”

“An independent art dealer?” he asked, looking at her with a curious expression. “I would think you would have to go overseas.”

Realizing her mistake a moment too late, Buffy’s eyes widened a fraction before she pasted a smile on her face. “‘Independent’ being the key word. It’s not like I have a boss paying to fly me all over the world.”

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Spike slowly nodded. “Maybe you’ll see it someday.”

“I’m not holding my breath,” she said with a smile, walking across the Persian rugs to the painting on the other end of the office. “Renoir?” she said with interest.

“You don’t seem too impressed.”

“It takes a lot to impress me, Mr. Reed,” she said, her voice taking on a serious tone as she turned toward him.

“I’ll remember that,” he said in a raspy whisper. “And in case you’ve forgotten- it’s Spike.” Leading Buffy out of the room, he let his hand trail along the small of her back as they walked. “So, who decorates your home, Miss Summers?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“Oh, you know how it is,” she said with a playful smile. “A few by Rembrandt, Bazille, a couple of the other Impressionists.”

“S’that right?” he said, smiling in amusement as he led her toward the dining room. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Biting her lip and giving him a flirtatious glance, she raised an eyebrow for a more seductive look. “Play your cards right.”



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Chapter 6 – Kids at Heart


“How’s your dinner?” Spike asked, tilting his head to look at her.

“Excellent,” she said, cutting into her filet mignon. “And I’m guessing you cooked the entire thing, am I right?” she asked, holding back the giggle as she took a sip of wine.

“You know it,” he replied, taking a bite of vegetables. “It’s one of my hidden talents.”

“So, have you ever actually cooked your own dinner?” she asked in amusement.

“Does ordering pizza count?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I guess that means I’m going to have to get you to cook, huh?”

“You’re offering?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, slightly surprised at the comment.

“If you wanted to,” Buffy said, shrugging as she became a little nervous with her abrupt invitation.

“When and where?” he asked with a smile, repeating the words she told him a few nights earlier.

“Whatever night is good for you and my house,” she replied. “I want you to get the full experience.”

“This oughtta be good,” Spike muttered, seeing her raise an eyebrow at him. Holding up his hands defensively, he shook his head. “Kidding, only kidding.”

“You better be,” she said, pointing her knife at him, a stern look on her face before she began giggling.

Eating in silence for a few more moments, Buffy looked up at him, tilting her head to study him. “Favorite color?” she asked, watching him look at her in surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“We have to go through all that ‘getting to know you’ crap, don’t we?” she asked, seeing him chuckle in response. “I repeat- favorite color?”

“Black,” Spike replied, looking at her as she rolled her eyes. “What?”

“It’s just so…blah,” she said, sticking out her tongue to indicate the distaste for his choice. “I mean, you couldn’t go with something a little better like yellow or purple?”

“Purple?” he asked indignantly, practically spitting out the word. “You do realize who you’re talking to, right?”

“A man who doesn’t like purple?” she replied, smiling slightly when he rolled his eyes.

“A man,” he said as if it was the most natural choice in the world.

“That’s no excuse. I know plenty of men who like purple. It just proves their masculinity.”

“Fine,” Spike muttered. “Red. That better?”

“Much,” Buffy replied, a satisfied look on her face as she took a bite.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug, sitting back as she finished her meal. “Blue, maybe.”

Making small talk for the next twenty minutes, Buffy learned more about him but knew that it was too soon to venture into more personal territory.

“Ready for the rest of the tour?” Spike asked, getting up from his seat and walking over to pull her chair out for her.

“There’s more to this place?” she asked with a smile.

“Two more floors,” he replied, offering his arm to her, which she happily accepted.

“Lead the way.”

Paying careful attention to the layout of the house, she followed him up the stairs. Her eyes widened at the sight of the huge game-room that he led her to. Seeing the expensive pool table, big screen TV that was equipped with every electronic device and game system imaginable, and the authentic video games that looked like they belonged in an arcade, Buffy had to smile.

“Kid at heart?” she asked in amusement, walking a little further into the room.

“You could say that,” he said with a nod, grabbing a pool cue. “Feel up to a game?”

“Maybe,” she murmured, looking around the room before squealing at the sight on the far wall. “Ms. Pac-Man? Oh my God, I can’t believe you have that game!”

Spike had to laugh, watching her run over to the system and eagerly sit down in the seat. “Press the start button and play to your heart’s content.”

Turning to look at him with an appreciative smile, she shook her head. “Let’s play pool.”

“Buffy, it’s okay, if you want-”

“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “I think pool sounds like more fun. But I should warn you…I’m not very good.”

“Fair enough,” he said, tossing her a cue.

Leaning against the side of the table while he rolled up his sleeves, she unconsciously licked her lips, looking at the muscles that were exposed to her gaze. Feeling his eyes on her, Buffy looked up for a moment, catching the wink and smile that he gave her before turning his attention back to the table, preparing to break.

Breathing heavily, Buffy nearly yelled at herself for her irregular heartbeat and the way her stomach was flipping.

‘This is a job,’ she told herself. ‘It’s business…that’s all. You’re not supposed to have reactions that you can’t control. Level head- remember?’

All thoughts were soon forgotten as she watched him lean across the table, biting her lip as she watched his muscles flex subtly.

Barely noticing when it was her turn, Buffy shook her head to try and clear it before walking around the table to take her shot. Missing the pocket by a horrible margin and sinking the cue ball into the pocket, she turned back to Spike with a sheepish smile and a shrug. “Scratch.”

“Not your game, love?”

“Not really,” she replied, watching him take a few more shots, taking a step back to admire the rear view when he bent over the table. Raising an eyebrow in appreciation, she put an indifferent look on her face when he turned to face her, indicating that it was her turn.

Buffy walked to the side of the table, preparing to take her shot, stopping when she heard his voice.

“Just a second,” he said softly, leaning his cue stick against the wall and walking over to her. Wrapping his arms around her, he proceeded to show her the proper technique, smiling when she shivered against him. “Feel that?” he whispered, his breath caressing her cheek.

“I think so,” she murmured, biting her lip to keep from smiling as he helped her hit two balls into the pockets. Letting him help her for a little while longer, she finally straightened, turning to face him with a little hop. “Now let’s play.”

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Yep,” she said, smiling confidently.

“Alright, then,” he said softly. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Seeing the wink that he cast in her direction, Buffy merely raised an eyebrow, watching him rack the balls. “Do you want to break or should I?” he asked in an amused tone.

“I can do it,” Buffy said, walking around the table.

Looking away for a moment, Spike’s eyes widened when he heard the distinctive crack of the balls breaking, looking up in time to see three shooting into the corner pockets.

Biting her lip, Buffy merely shrugged. “Beginner’s luck,” she said softly.

Five minutes later, when she sunk the eight ball, she slowly turned to Spike, giving him a bright smile.

“Look what I did.”

“Still beginner’s luck, love?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

“Well…I might have had just a little bit of practice, but how was I supposed to know I’d beat you?”

“Beat me?! Hustled me, is more like it,” Spike replied, obviously trying not to laugh at the fact that he fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book.

Tossing her cue stick to him, she smiled. “Be glad you weren’t playing for money.”

Pinning her against the table before she could move out of the way, Spike looked into her eyes.

“What?” she asked nervously, hating the tremor that threaded through her voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, slowly lowering his head to hers. “Nothing at all.”

Closing her eyes when his lips brushed against hers in a tender caress, Buffy felt her stomach flip. Feeling his hands gently settle on her hips, grasping them gently, she couldn’t help but feel the underlying possessiveness that was intended. Wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her, her knees began to grow weak.

Spike’s tongue gently slipped into her mouth, brushing against hers and eliciting a soft moan in response.

Realizing that things were spiraling out of control, Buffy put a hand against his chest, lightly pushing him away until their lips separated.

Pressing his forehead against hers, Spike seemed to be searching her eyes for something. Brushing his fingertips over her cheek, he offered her a soft smile.

“Stay the night,” he whispered, his lips barely ghosting over hers, mildly surprised when she pulled back with a slight smile, breaking the trance they seemed to be in.

“Am I staying in a guest room?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was thinking of showing you where I sleep, Goldilocks,” he replied with a sexy smirk.

Running her hands along his stomach and chest, she tried not to think about the powerful muscles beneath the shirt as her hand moved even higher, up his neck until the back of her hand was gently grazing his cheek. Moving to close the distance between them, she brushed a tender kiss to his cheek, letting her breath caress his ear as she spoke.

“I don’t have one night stands,” she breathed, taking a step away in time to see his surprised expression. Turning around, she walked out of the room, making her way down the stairs, never looking back as she walked through the foyer and out the front door.

Breathing a sigh of relief when she walked outside, she briefly closed her eyes, inhaling the night air that hit her face. Unable to keep the satisfied grin off her face, she nearly giggled when she remembered the look on Spike’s face. She knew that if she’d stayed the night, the chances would not have been good that she would return to his house. Not to mention the fact that she really shouldn’t be having lusty-wrong feelings about a man she was assigned to bring down.

Challenging him practically guaranteed that he would come back for more…she hoped.



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Chapter 7 – Conflicting Interests


Cleaning her house a few days later, Buffy felt like she was going stir-crazy. She didn’t know what was worse: sitting around waiting for a phone call as if she was in high school again, or being forced to stay away from work because it might blow her cover.

Her house was almost spotless after all the attention she’d been able to give to it, burning all of her nervous energy. She’d even managed to repaint the two guest rooms. Sorting through her desk in the living room, she left the piles of useless papers on the flat surface. Everything incriminating had been removed from her home or locked away when she found out she was going to be trying to track Angelus O’Neill, knowing that he wouldn’t be above breaking into a woman’s home and searching through her things. Buffy honestly didn’t think Spike would do the same thing, but she didn’t want to test the theory and run the risk of him discovering who she really was.

Flipping through the stacks of paid bills, receipts from some of her favorite stores and various odds and ends, she stopped when she heard her phone ring.

Buffy quickly jumped up and ran into the kitchen, grabbing the cordless. “Hello?”

“Good morning, lamb.”

“Hello, Spike,” she said, walking back into the living room to sit on the couch, curling her legs up beneath her.

“I had fun the other night,” he said in a sensuous voice.

“Me, too,” she replied, slightly surprised that she was telling the truth.

“Care to have dinner with me tonight?” he asked, faltering when Buffy didn’t answer right away.

“Tell you what- we’ll do dinner, but tonight you come over to my place.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “Tell me where and when and I’m all yours.”

* * * * *

Opening the door later that night, Buffy offered Spike one of her thousand-watt smiles when she saw him. “Hi!” she said in a chipper voice that immediately brought a smile to his face.

“Hi, yourself,” he replied, looking her up and down. After seeing her three nights in two weeks, this was the first time she actually looked completely comfortable and relaxed. Wearing stonewashed blue jeans with a ripped knee and a spaghetti-strapped white tank top, she looked like she was a teenager. Taking in her lack of make-up and her long blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail, his smile widened at the fact that she was comfortable being so natural around him after such a short period of time.

Walking into the house, he held up a bottle of wine, offering it to her.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” she said, accepting the bottle and kissing him on the cheek, letting her lips linger on his skin longer than necessary before pulling away. “I’ll go put this on ice,” she said, happily walking into the kitchen while Spike took off his coat, smiling to himself that she seemed to be so at ease with him already.

He was also shocked at the way he seemed to automatically relax around her. The vibrant quality that she exuded practically radiated through the room. Hearing her moving around in the kitchen, he tossed his coat over the banister before walking into the living room, taking the opportunity to look around the room.

Wandering around the comfortable area, he took in the overstuffed couch and chairs, the fireplace mantle that was covered in pictures, and the large desk in the corner that was piled high with papers. Artwork and pictures hung from each wall, but Spike’s attention was soon drawn back to the fireplace. Slowly moving to stand in front of it, he looked at the painting that was hanging above the mantle.

“Drink?” Buffy asked, holding out a martini as she walked into the room.

“Thank you,” Spike said, smiling at her before turning back to the art. “Ice Floes Morning Haze,” he said softly, the words practically rolled off his tongue as he stared at the reproduction of Monet’s painting, swallowing a good portion of the drink. “What happened to The Artist’s Garden at Giverny? I seem to remember that being your favorite.”

“Just because it’s my favorite doesn’t mean it represents me,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes as she looked into her glass.

“And this is you?” Spike replied with a raised eyebrow, gesturing toward the reproduction.

“I think it could be representative of a lot of people…don’t you?” she questioned, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I would have figured you more for Japanese Bridges,” he said with a slight smile, avoiding the question.

“Ice is better,” she said, taking a sip of her drink, letting the alcohol burn its way down her throat.

“Why’s that?” he asked, tilting his head as he waited for her response.

Turning to study him for a long moment, Buffy never looked away from his strong gaze. “Because…to live in this world, you have to be hard. You have to have a mask.”

Lightly biting his lip, Spike looked at the floor, apparently deep in thought before turning to look at the painting. “And if you look below the surface?” he asked, staring at the glassy water, reflecting everything around it.

“You might not like what you see,” she said softly, unsure of what she was talking about. Setting her drink on an end table, she turned and walked toward the kitchen, leaving Spike to think about what she had said.

Slowly following her, he stopped in the doorway, seeing her standing at the island, chopping vegetables.

Feeling his eyes on her for several long minutes, Buffy gritted her teeth together as she tightened her hold on the butcher knife. “What?” she asked in irritation.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

‘Oh nothing,’ Buffy thought to herself as she continued slicing through the vegetables. ‘I’m just having all kinds of wrong feelings for the man who I’m working to arrest and I don’t know what to do.’

“Why do you think something is wrong?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him as she met his gaze with an indifferent expression.

“You seem a little worked up,” he said, tilting his head to study her.

“I’m fine,” she replied, grabbing a tomato and cutting into it, jumping when she felt Spike walk up behind her, pinning her against the counter with his arms on each side of her.

The move was so similar to what he’d done the night before, but Buffy still tensed at the unfamiliarity of someone being so close to her. Reflexively maneuvering the knife into a more defensive hold, she closed her eyes when his hands came up to rest on her shoulders, too close to Buffy’s neck for her comfort level.

“You just need to relax,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers racing along her spine as a mixture of raging emotions ran through her- fear, contentment, anxiety, exhilaration. Completion.

Exhaling in a gasp when his hands began kneading the muscles in her back, she trembled when his lips brushed against her throat, traveling lower until he felt her tense again.

Standing up a little straighter, Spike gently rubbed her shoulders for another minute before letting his hands abandon her soft skin, trailing down her body to rest on her hips. “Guess it’s time to eat,” he said with a soft smile when she glanced back at him.

“Um…y-yeah.”

Helping Buffy carry the food to the table, Spike had to smile. “She’s beautiful, sexy, successful, and she cooks…be still my heart. Martha Stewart better watch her back.”

Giggling as she shook her head, she replied, “First of all, Martha Stewart knows jack about hand-cut prosciutto. Secondly…beautiful?” she asked softly, turning to look at him with a hopeful expression.

Spike smiled but didn’t answer as he bit his bottom lip, turning around to grab the wine off the counter.

There was something so endearing in that expression that it nearly took Buffy’s breath away. She had to remind herself, not for the first time, that this wasn’t a date. This was her job.

An assignment that she was dealt, and she shouldn’t be getting this much… enjoyment out of it.




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Chapter 8 – Second Thoughts


“Life’s ambition?” Spike asked, taking a sip of his wine. After finishing their meal an hour before, they sat calmly in each other’s presence, staring up at the night sky from the steps of Buffy’s back porch.

“Hmmm,” she said, putting a finger to her chin as if she was thinking heavily. “Marry rich, move to Europe, divorce the guy and take half his money.”

“Interesting,” Spike replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m kidding,” she said, looking at him in exasperation. “I honestly don’t have a lot of ambitions. I’ve reached a lot of them, and I basically just take things one day at a time right now.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said with a smile.

“Works for me,” she replied, hiding her own smile as she brought her wine glass to her lips, taking a small sip.

“And what was tonight’s plan, Goldilocks?”

“Dinner,” she said, turning toward him. “And the lackage of burning. I think I succeeded, don’t you?”

“I have a feeling if I said no, I’d be in serious trouble,” he said in a teasing tone.

“It’s entirely possible,” she said, leaning over to gently nudge her shoulder against his before her expression turned serious. Sitting in silence for a few more moments, she took a deep breath, gathering her nerves. “Can I ask you something?” she asked softly, staring into her glass as she spoke.

“What’s that, love?”

“What is this?” she asked, turning toward him, knowing that the job aspect of her feelings was rapidly slipping away, leaving her to turn and stare into the eyes of a man she was falling for. A man who had never shown her a side of himself that could be considered illegal or dangerous, simply proving to her that he could be good. She hoped.

Reaching up to tenderly brush her hair away from her cheek, Spike looked at her for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “What do you want it to be?”

“That’s not an answer,” she whispered, looking up at him with bright eyes.

Sitting back with a sigh, Spike looked at the sky for a moment before speaking. “It’s not like I’ve ever done this before,” he said with a slight smile. “Over thirty years old, and it feels like I’m a teenager again.”

“Are you saying you have a crush on me, Mr. Reed?” she asked softly, smiling at him.

Spike chuckled before slowly leaning toward her, seeing her eyes briefly widen before fluttering shut as he met her lips in a soft kiss. Fighting every instinct to immediately deepen the kiss, he focused on the feel of her soft lips caressing his.

Pulling away before it could get out of control, Spike pressed his forehead to hers, seeing the indecision on her face before she pulled away, avoiding his gaze as he continued to look at her.

“You don’t even know me,” she whispered after a moment.

Seeing the sadness that seemed to cross her face, Spike frowned, moving closer to her. Hesitantly putting a hand on her shoulder, he tilted his head when she raised her eyes to his. “I know enough,” he said softly. “I know the kind of woman you are…the strength you have.”

“You can’t possibly know that,” Buffy whispered, looking down and closing her eyes as she tried to forget his purpose for being here.

“I can,” he replied. “Strength isn’t a show of force- it’s something deeper. Something you can read in the eyes. Something that you possess.”

‘Don’t fall for him- this is all just an act. Just some elaborate plan to get what he wants from you. Don’t fall for him.’

“Tell me about yourself,” she said, wanting to change the subject as she turned toward him, immediately lightening the mood.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, leaning back slightly, knowing that she probably wanted a little bit of distance.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said with a shrug, taking another drink. “Something that no one else knows.”

“Something that no one else knows,” he repeated with an amused smile, sitting up a little straighter as he thought of an answer. “Alright…I watch Passions.”

“You watch Passions?” she asked in disbelief, a smile playing on her lips.

“I’m addicted to the bloody show,” he said, chuckling to himself. “And Dawson’s Creek.”

“You’re kidding,” Buffy replied, nearly laughing at the absurdity of what he’d just told her. “So, tell me, William Reed…were you a Dawson fan or a Pacey fan?”

“Pacey,” he replied immediately. “Even though I used to think he was a blind idiot, but it turned out alright in the end.”

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Buffy looked at the ground, taking a deep breath.

“What’s running through that mind of yours, pet?” Spike asked, seeing her restraining herself from laughing.

Turning toward him, her eyes bright with unshed tears as she continued to hold in her laughter, she continued calmly, “Please tell me that you don’t have the DVDs of all the seasons.”

“Alright…I won’t tell you,” he said, chuckling when he heard her giggle. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Something no one knows,” she said softly. “Well, I have some New Kids on the Block posters shoved in the back of my closet because I couldn’t bear the idea of parting with them.”

Seeing him duck his head to hide his smile, Buffy bumped her shoulder against his. “Don’t give me any of that- your little guilty pleasure is ten times worse than mine. And you have two of them,” she reminded him.

“Didn’t say a word,” Spike replied, holding up his hands as he suppressed another laugh.

“Let’s keep it that way,” she said, raising an eyebrow in a mock warning.

Sitting in comfortable silence for another minute, Spike sighed as he looked at his watch. “I think it’s time for me to get going,” he said softly, the disappointment evident in his voice.

Standing up, he turned and smiled when he saw Buffy reach for him. Helping her to her feet, Spike loosely wrapped his arms around her waist, waiting for her to make the first move.

Taking a deep breath after a moment, Buffy’s arms slowly wrapped around Spike’s neck, bringing him closer to her for a tender kiss.

Knowing that he wouldn’t have self-control much longer, he tried to keep a safe distance from her as her tongue ran along his bottom lip, begging entrance. Parting his lips for her, Spike nearly moaned at the feel of her warm body pressed against his while her hands ran through his hair, loosening the gel and freeing his curls. Fighting every natural impulse in his body to pick her up and press her against the side of the house, Spike continued the soft kiss for a moment before reluctantly breaking away.

Both panted for air, staring into each other’s lust-filled eyes.

“Guess that’s my cue,” he said softly.

“Guess so,” she murmured, smiling when he took her hand in his, leading her around to the side of the house.

Reaching the driveway a moment later, Spike turned to face her, taking in her features as the moonlight bathed over both of them. Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, his breath caressing her lips.

“Soon,” she whispered, hating the churning that accompanied the flip-flopping in her stomach.

Giving her another soft kiss, Spike tenderly ran his hand along her cheek, smiling when she shivered at the contact. “I’ll call you,” he said softly, waiting for her nod of agreement before he got in his car.

Buffy watched him drive away, hugging her arms around her body for some form of comfort. She hated that she didn’t know where she stood anymore.

Was this man really how his reputation claimed? Or was all of this some kind of elaborate plan on his part?

Walking back into her house, her hands came up to her face as the frustration and stress of the situation seemed to catch up with her.

Grabbing her cell phone that was for emergencies, she walked onto the front porch, dialing the familiar number, listening to the dial tone as it rang.

“Hello?”

“Giles…it’s me.”






Thanks so much to: caatje, 3988Akasha, spufette, dev, Tahmoe, Caitie, Kimber, Livia, Mariana, Franchesca, willowmouse, Cordykitten, melissa g, baby spikes, B, Sevvy_O, BuffyandSpikeForever, Pam & Bint for reviewing!

Chapter 9 – A Job to Do


“Buffy?”

Giles’ voice traveled through the phone, obviously trying to wake up. She could hear the sound of mattress springs as he sat up and nearly smiled when she pictured him putting on his glasses, only to take them off and polish them.

“Is something wrong?” he asked after a moment.

“I can’t do this, Giles,” she whispered, feeling her stomach flip as she sat down on the porch swing, her nerves leaving her strung out and confused.

“If you’re talking about your assignment-”

“I am, and I can’t,” she said softly. “I know you were counting on me, but…”

“Do you really need to know my response to that?” he asked.

“If you knew him,” Buffy continued, feeling desperation begin to sink into her. “If you knew who he was, you would understand…”

“Buffy,” he said slowly, speaking in a soft voice. “I want you to rationally think about what you’re saying to me. You know who this man is. You know what he’s capable of.”

“I know,” she replied in a strained voice. “I do know that…but Giles…I just don’t think we should be focusing our energy- at least not to this much of an extent- on him. Angelus is the bigger and more dangerous threat, and if we could just-”

“He is… but he’s not the one we’re going after at this time. His time will come, Buffy. Right now, we’re focusing our attention on Reed, and that means you have to handle the situation- whatever that may be.”

“I just think…”

“You have an assignment, Agent Summers,” Giles said, a hard edge in his tone. “I expect you to remember that.”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, fighting the tears in her eyes. She hated it when she had something that she genuinely wanted to say and Giles pulled rank on her.

Sighing heavily, he continued, “I know this is hard. Your job is to get close and find out where he’s going to strike next. I know that has to be difficult, but the fact remains- you’re not in his group of friends; therefore, he’s not going to tell you what he’s doing. You have to earn that trust, and it is our hope that he either trusts you enough or he slips up. You’re to play the role of his girlfriend, Buffy, and I know you can do this. If you feel that you can’t, I can take you off of the assignment and put Faith in your place, but that’s your choice.”

“No,” Buffy said quickly, a little louder than she intended. The idea of Faith Lehane getting close to Spike made her want to gag. “No…it’s okay,” she said, softening her tone. “I can do this.”

“It’s difficult,” Giles said in an understanding tone. “You get close to the man and not the criminal, and it’s extremely hard to differentiate between the two…but I know you, Buffy. I know you have it in you to do this. You’re an extraordinary woman, and your strength shows in everything that you do.”

“Strength isn’t a show of force- it’s something deeper. Something you can read in the eyes. Something that you possess.”

Closing her eyes at the memory of Spike’s voice, Buffy shook her head, needing to clear it of her thoughts. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“You know I’m here for you,” he said in a comforting voice.

“I know,” she whispered, taking a deep breath as her emotions began to get the better of her. “Thanks, Giles.”

“Good night, Buffy.”

Hanging up the phone, she let it fall onto the cushion of the swing as her head dropped into her hands.

‘Giles is right,’ she thought to herself, running her hands through her hair. ‘This is a job…a job. Nothing more than that.’

Slowly sitting up a little straighter, she ran her hands through her hair, pushing the loose strands away from her face as she stared into the darkness.

‘Then why is it so hard?’

* * * * *

Wandering through her house later that night, Buffy irritably rolled her shoulders as she entered the kitchen. After lying in bed for over an hour and unable to go to sleep, she had finally given up.

Making some hot chocolate for herself, she carried it into the living room, smiling at the memory of her mother doing the same thing every night that she couldn’t sleep. It was one of her favorite memories and one of the times she missed the most.

Staring sightlessly into her living room, Buffy’s gaze soon focused on a bookshelf sitting in the corner. Carefully setting her mug down on the coffee table, she pulled her robe tighter as she walked over to it, selecting a photo album and carrying it back to the couch.

Settling down on the soft cushions, she began to slowly flip through the pages. Finding herself lost in the memories of her childhood, she smiled at the images in front of her. Pictures of her mother and father together, holding their baby daughter after she was brought home from the hospital.

“It’s amazing how pregnant women always have a glow, but women who’ve just had their babies always look bloated.”

Buffy giggled at the memory of her mother’s voice. She’d always hated that picture, but Buffy had insisted that it was a beautiful picture and that it showcased the family that she dreamed of. The family that now existed only in photographs and memories.

Smiling at the evolution of herself- coloring on an easel while her mother painted when she was a toddler, holding her lunchbox and smiling proudly at the camera on her first day of school, nervously standing next to her Homecoming date in Junior High- Buffy got lost in her walk down Memory Lane.

Seeing herself getting ready for the prom, standing next to her parents at her high school and college graduations, and smiling with her mother on the day she graduated to become an FBI agent, she took a deep breath to control her emotions.

Closing the album, Buffy shut her eyes, remembering the conversation she had with her mother that day.

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you,” Joyce said, hugging her daughter. “I’m sorry your father couldn’t be here.”

“Me, too,” Buffy said softly, eagerly returning the hug. “Guess he couldn’t be bothered by his daughter.”

“Don’t think that,” her mother said, brushing the hair away from Buffy’s face. “This is your day and you deserve to be happy.”

“I think I will be, as long as I don’t marry a man like my father,” she replied dryly.

“You’ll find a man who’s right for you,” Joyce said, wrapping an arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “Someone who puts you above everything else and loves you for who you are…not for who he wants you to be.”

Curling up on the couch, Buffy felt tears sting her eyes at the memory of her mother and the truth behind what she’d said to her that day.

Had she found that man?

It was her responsibility to bend the situation to her advantage, but that still didn’t tell her what Spike’s reaction would be, no matter what the circumstances. And if he was the man for her, what would happen when the truth came out?

Because the truth always comes out.






Thanks so much to: Kimber, caatje, dev, Cordykitten, Franchesca, Bint, Tahmoe, Charlene, BuffyandSpikeForever, willowmouse, spufette, Brittany, baby spikes, B, Smitten, Caitie, & Crystal Pegasus for reviewing!

Chapter 10 – Comfort Zones


Walking up the steps in front of Spike’s house a few days later, Buffy rang the bell, feeling extremely out of place. After talking to him on the phone, he had told her to not dress up at all. Entering a mansion wearing jean shorts and a plain white t-shirt was not in Buffy’s comfort zone- especially since she hadn’t been able to bring a weapon with her.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she nearly rolled her eyes.

‘Yes, a gun makes you feel better, but you’re resourceful. If anything happens, you’ll find something to use against him.’

Expecting to see one of his employees open the door, she was surprised when Spike opened it, smiling when he saw her.

“Evening, gorgeous,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he openly appraised her legs before opening the door even wider to allow her entrance.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” she said, looking at him with an amused expression.

“Aren’t I always?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“I don’t really know you well enough to make that assumption,” she teased, letting him lead her through the house. “Where are we going?”

“Outside,” he said, trailing his hand along her back and over her hip until he reached for her hand.

“And what’s outside?”

“Pool party.”

Pausing for a moment, she watched as Spike turned to look at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Just…surprised…I guess.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, confusing her even more with his seemingly genuine concern.

“Positive,” she replied, letting him lead her out to the back deck. Stopping when she looked around, Buffy frowned, not seeing anyone. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Oh, did I forget to mention?” Spike asked with a smile. “It’s a private party.”

“Excuse me?” she asked with a smile, surprised at how easily he could get her to relax.

“Gave my staff the night off- cancelled everything and anything that could interrupt us. Thought we could relax.”

“I don’t have a suit,” she said, turning toward him with a shy look.

“Pool house,” Spike replied, his eyes glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the small house before looking at her again. “I’m sure you’ll find something in there.”

Raising an eyebrow, Buffy took a slight step back. “They’re not left over from someone else who had a ‘night off’ with you, are they?”

“No, love,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Brand new.”

“Okay,” she said, nearly trembling against him. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” he murmured, seeing her raise her eyes to his and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

Relaxing against him, Buffy held onto his arms, feeling his hands rest on the small of her back as she slowly pulled away. This was getting too familiar and too…nice.

“Going now,” she murmured, smiling slightly when she didn’t make a move to extract herself from his arms.

“I can see that,” he replied, the smile obvious in his voice, even though Buffy didn’t look up to see it.

Shutting off everything in her that told her this was wrong, Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her for a passionate kiss, nearly attacking his mouth with hers. Spike eagerly returned the kiss, growing hard at the feel of her warm body pressed so intimately against his.

Feeling the effect she was having on him, she lightly pushed against him, feeling the hardness against her stomach as he pressed his erection against her.

She knew that lines were being crossed and boundaries were being ripped away, but at that moment, she didn’t care about anything except his lips on hers and the feel of his body fitting so naturally against her.

Pulling away as she gasped for air after a long moment, she closed her eyes, feeling his forehead rest against hers.

“Guess I better go,” she murmured, shivering as he ran his fingertips up and down her arm.

“I can always go with you,” he said, a smile playing on his lips as he watched her.

Hesitating for a moment, she stepped away, smiling at him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Not looking back at him, she walked into the pool house, shutting the door behind her. Seeing the swimsuits laying out on the bed, she nearly rolled her eyes at the sight of the string bikinis. They would barely offer her any coverage if she actually wanted to do something like swim.

Selecting a navy blue bikini, she quickly put it on, tying the strings at her hips and around her back.

Taking a few minutes, she quickly searched through the house, looking for anything incriminating. She knew that Spike would be too smart to keep anything out in the open, but she had to look.

Not finding anything, she left the room, walking outside into the warm air, smiling when she saw Spike standing next to the pool, wearing a pair of black swim trunks.

Turning toward her before she reached him, Spike felt his mouth go dry at the sight of her toned body, showcased by the few scraps of cloth she was wearing.

“Do I meet your approval?” she asked in a teasing voice, holding her arms out to her sides as she spun in a full circle.

“Do you even need to ask?” he replied in a husky voice, closing the distance between them and taking her in his arms. Gently brushing a kiss to her lips, Spike pulled back to look at her, seeing the brief hesitation on her face before a smile fell into place. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his hands brushing along the smooth skin of her stomach, needing to touch her in some way.

Buffy shivered as his hands continued their lazy perusal of her body, seeing the pleased smile on his face that his touch was causing a reaction in her. Closing her eyes when she felt Spike’s lips gently brushing along her throat, she gasped for air when he lightly bit down on the tender skin.

“Spike,” she whispered, her hands immediately moving to his hair, lacing through the soft strands as he continued to kiss her throat. Her intention was to tell him that they were moving too fast, that something would happen if they continued, but the words caught in her throat.

Feeling him lift her into his arms, Buffy turned her head to look at him, surprised when his lips met hers in a passionate kiss. “We have to stop,” she murmured against his lips, silenced when the kiss intensified.

Spike carefully placed her on the soft cushion of the iron chaise lounge that was in the grass next to the pool. Carefully loosening the ties of her bikini top, Spike nearly groaned when his fingertips brushed against the soft skin of her breasts.

Buffy arched against him, her lips separating from his, slightly surprised that she was suddenly topless. Shivering against him, she closed her eyes when he began kissing her neck again. “W-we can’t,” she murmured, moaning when his hands slipped past the remaining fabric, gently teasing her clit, silencing any objections that she could be having while his other hand trailed down her body.

Clutching at his arm until her fingernails were digging into his skin, she was mindless with need, arching her body against his hand, craving more from him, never noticing his hand working on the remaining ties of her swimsuit.

Whimpering when he removed his hand, Buffy barely had a chance to open her eyes before squeezing them shut as her lower body reflexively moved upward when she felt Spike’s tongue gently sweep along her opening as her hands fisted in his hair.

Urging him on with her movements, she cried out and moaned as he continued to bring her to the edge and then slow down, leaving her with a dizzying, unfulfilled feeling.

“Spike, please,” she whimpered after a few minutes of blissful torture, nearly screaming when he latched onto her clit, letting his teeth graze along the sensitive bundle as he put more pressure on it.

Arching her body against his mouth, she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut. Screaming in pleasure when he pushed two fingers into her, heightening the sensations that she was feeling as she climaxed, Buffy clutched at him while she rode out her orgasm.

Slowly coming down, she was vaguely aware of Spike moving up her body and extremely aware of what just occurred between the two of them. Panicking for a moment, she immediately began shaking her head, pushing against his bare chest. “No, no, no,” she chanted, shoving him until he sat up, giving her enough room to reach for her bikini.

“Buffy?”

“We shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have…”

Frantically shaking her head, her hands trembled as she tried to figure out how to get her swimsuit back on.

Spike grabbed her shoulders, forcefully turning her toward him, seeing the fear that seemed to materialize in her eyes for a moment before she carefully hid it away. Not saying anything, he watched as she opened and closed her mouth, trying to figure out what to say. Casting her eyes downward, her lip poked out slightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, slowly raising her eyes to his.

“For what?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her.

“For…for this,” she said softly, gesturing around them before crossing her arms over her chest in a modest effort to cover herself. “And for that,” she added, glanced at the tented fabric of his black trunks.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, barely giving his own condition a second thought, simply wanting to keep her from leaving. “Is there something wrong?”

“I just…I think we’re moving too fast,” she whispered, blushing as she gently eased his hands off her shoulders and began retying the strings at her hips, relieved that she was offered a little bit of coverage again.

“Okay,” Spike said, drawing Buffy’s attention to him at the unexpected answer.

“Okay?”

“I’m not going to push you, Buffy,” he said, taking her hand in his. “But please don’t leave.”

Smiling shyly, she avoided his eyes for a moment, biting her bottom lip.

“And it’s okay that we go a little slower?” she asked. ‘Because I don’t need to be having sex with a criminal,’ she added silently, ignoring the nagging voice that told her it wouldn’t be such a bad idea…especially considering the sight of his strong chest and muscular arms were keeping her resolve weak.

“As slow as you want,” Spike agreed, trying not to let his disappointment show. Pulling her toward him, he left a gentle kiss on her lips, restraining every urge in his body to deepen it and take it a little bit further. He was finally with a woman who excited him and challenged him.

Everything else could wait.




Thanks so much to: Kimber, spuffette, Tahmoe, Just Me, Livia, Cordykitten, caatje, baby spikes, Brittany, B, Caitie, BuffyandSpikeForever, Mariana, willowmouse & Bint for reviewing!

Chapter 11 – Who Are You?


Laying with Spike on the lounge chair, Buffy enjoyed the simple act of kissing him, feeling like she was a teenager again while his hand ghosted over the soft swell of her breast, still bare from their earlier escapades.

Neither made a move to deepen the kiss or take things even further, enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

Pulling away after a moment, Buffy gave him a soft smile, becoming all too aware that she was still topless. “I should probably get dressed,” she said softly, smiling when Spike pouted. “Considering we just said we would take it slow…it would probably be a wise move.”

“Just thought you’d want to cool off,” he said with a grin. “Since I got you all hot.”

“Horrible pun,” Buffy replied, rolling her eyes as she sat up and reached for her bikini top. “And I think I’m cool enough.”

“Aww, come on…you know you want to be a little wetter,” he said, biting his bottom lip and giving her an evil smile while his arms wrapped around her waist.

Her eyes widened as she pulled back slightly to look at him. “Spike…no…NO!” she shrieked, giggling when he swung her onto his shoulder and ran over to the pool, tossing her in and laughing as her scream was swallowed by the sound of splashing water. Nearly doubled over when she resurfaced, sputtering and rubbing the water out of her eyes, Spike watched as she tried to compose herself, glaring at him.

“Cooled off, lamb?” he asked, renewing his laughter when her eyes narrowed on him.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Buffy continued to stare at him.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me that wasn’t fun,” he said, smiling at her. “You’re not one of those women who can’t get their hair wet, are you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when he saw her roll her eyes.

“Could you at least be a gentleman and hand me a towel?” she asked, waiting until he nodded before moving to the edge of the pool. Watching him walk back toward her with a fluffy white towel, Buffy offered him a slight smile, reaching up to accept it. “Thanks,” she said, jerking the towel until Spike fell into the pool.

Resurfacing the same way that Buffy did, Spike was greeted with her giggles when he turned to face her.

“That has to be the oldest trick in the book,” she said, her smile slowly fading when he moved toward her, pinning her to the side of the pool.

“That’s what I get for being nice?” he asked, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper.

“You should have known better,” she whispered with a coy smile, closing her eyes when his lips met hers in a tender kiss.

Reaching up to cup his cheek in one hand, the other held onto his shoulder, urging him to get closer as his tongue gently brushed against her bottom lip.

Nearly groaning when her tongue met his, Spike’s hands abandoned the wall of the pool, wrapping around her to pull her closer, feeling her hand against the back of his neck, holding him in place. Breaking away to breathe after a moment, their foreheads pressed together.

“Maybe we should get out,” Buffy said with a slight smile, waiting for Spike to nod before she left the comfortable water, shivering when the chilly air swept over her skin.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she heard the water rushing downward as Spike hoisted himself onto the side of the pool, turning to face him when he quickly jumped up and grabbed two towels.

Wrapping one around Buffy, he ran his hands up and down her arms, creating enough friction to warm her before wrapping the other around his waist.

Smiling when he immediately turned back to her, Buffy shivered once again, this time as a result of Spike’s caring attentiveness. Trembling when he pulled her into his arms, she rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes, trying not to focus on her tumultuous thoughts.

Who was the real Spike?

* * * * *

Dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, Spike leaned against the doorframe, watching Buffy’s car drive away. Waiting until it was out of sight, he slowly turned away from the front door, kicking it shut as he walked away.

Climbing the stairs to the third floor, he walked to the back of the house, his good mood immediately fading, his face turning into a cold mask as he opened a door at the end of the hall.

“Well?” he asked, walking into the small room, his body language and demeanor immediately changing from the carefree man he’d been for the earlier part of the afternoon.

“Beautiful girl,” Ethan said, turning to face his employer as he looked away from the monitor. “Of course I told you that when I met her.”

“I’m not asking for your opinions on her looks… What do we know?” Spike asked, his voice cold and hard as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Not much,” he replied, sitting back in his chair, tossing the surveillance photos on the table in front of Spike.

Seeing the pictures of Buffy spread out on the chaise lounge that was next to the pool as Spike continued to pleasure her, he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t rightly recall telling you that I needed any surveillance today.”

“A woman like that,” he said with a smile. “You know I can’t resist.”

Clenching his jaw, Spike stared at the man in front of him until his smile faded. “You’re going to resist,” he said in a low voice. “Touch her, and-”

“Relax,” Ethan said. “No plans for your precious girl.”

“Good to know. Cause I’d hate to have to hurt you.”

Noticeably swallowing, Ethan turned back to the computer screen. “Well, we don’t know much about this girl. Her story seems to check out…”

“But,” Spike prompted.

“But…that’s all it does- it checks out. There are no details after her college graduation. Basically, she’s an art dealer with a small list of clients; her mother died of complications with a brain tumor a year ago; father is nowhere to be found. She lives alone in a comfortable manner and doesn’t have any serious relationships.”

“Never?”

“A few boyfriends in high school,” he said with a slight shrug. “Nobody serious. There was one guy in college who she dated for several months, but he graduated and moved away. She didn’t want to move and stayed here.”

“So there are details up until she went to university?” Spike asked in confusion.

“That’s right.”

“Then…what does she do in her spare time?” he asked, talking to himself. “She’s an independent dealer with no office. She must have a lot of free time.”

“Look around her house,” Ethan said with a shrug. “Keep her occupied for a few hours, and I can make the rounds.”

“Like I want you going through her things,” Spike said, nearly rolling his eyes. “Keep an eye out for anything else,” he said after a moment. “I’ll look for the rest.”

Turning to walk out of the room, he stopped when he heard Ethan’s voice.

“There is one thing that I found particularly interesting,” he said, waiting until Spike turned to face him once again.

“What’s that?”

“The fact that she spent a good five minutes searching the pool house while you were outside waiting for her earlier today.”

“She what?” he asked softly.

“Went through all of the drawers, the closets, under the bed,” Ethan said, leaning back in his chair. “Now… I know women are curious by nature, but she looked like she was searching for something.”

“And your theory?” Spike asked, raising his eyebrow.

Ethan laughed, gesturing around the room. “Look around, Spike. Every piece of equipment in this room was purchased with stolen money. There is hardly a person you’ve met that you haven’t pissed off in one way or another and… I think you should be careful with this one.”

Spike watched as Ethan slid a thin folder across the table, toward him.

“There’s all the information I could get on her. I’ll keep looking.”

Picking up the file, he gave a slight nod before leaving the room. Walking through the empty house and into his office, he ran his hand over his face as he sat down at the mahogany desk, tossing the file onto the flat surface and staring at it for a long moment.

Finally opening the folder, he looked at the black and white photo that stared back at him. Seeing the small note on the bottom, ‘University of California, Sunnydale – Senior Year’, he stared at the smiling woman in the picture, trying to control his chaotic thoughts. Flipping through the stack of pictures and information, he soon turned to the pictures that had been taken that day.

Staring at the images of her face as her orgasm washed over her, he slowly continued through the stack of pictures, stopping at one of the two of them in the pool. The photo was a close-up, and Spike took a moment to admire the two of them together. Her body was practically crushed to his, her hands in his hair, pulling him closer while his hands were splayed across her back, holding her close.

He didn’t need to be a body language expert to see that she wasn’t faking her reaction to him. She was practically offering herself to him, daring him to take it and yet… there was something just a little bit off.

All of their interactions, all of their conversations, and he felt like she was holding back. Like she didn’t want to reveal too much. Like she couldn’t be herself.

Sitting back in his chair, Spike laid out her college picture next to the photo of them kissing, staring at the younger Buffy and the woman she was now, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to work through his thoughts.

“Who are you?”




Thanks so much to: phantomwriter, Kimber, Brittany, spufette, Franchesca, jenny, Bint, Caitie, BuffyandSpikeForever, Sevvy_O, B, Tahmoe, Lindsay, caatje, willowmouse, Mariana, Crystal Pegasus, baby spikes & Cordykitten for reviewing!

Chapter 12 – Mixed Signals


Buffy walked from shop to shop a week later, trying to work off her nervous tension. She hadn’t heard from Spike since she left his house the day they spent in the pool, and she was beginning to wonder if he lost interest in her.

Giles had called once, wanting a progress report that Buffy couldn’t give him. She knew he was getting frustrated, but he wasn’t nearly as frustrated as she was.

Hoping to curb her aggravation of not being able to do anything productive, she was spending her day at the mall.

Handing over her credit card at yet another clothing store, she finally felt like the edge was being taken off. Accepting the bag with her new dress, she slowly left the store, taking her time walking to the food court.

Paying for a salad and a bottle of water, she frowned when she heard her name.

“Buffy!”

Nearly turning in a full circle, her eyes widened when she saw the man running toward her.

“Buffy, hey!” he said brightly with a huge smile on his face.

“Riley…what are you doing here?” she asked, nearly rolling her eyes at her own stupid question.

“Nothing much,” he replied, taking some of her bags from her, causing Buffy to smile.

“Ever the gentleman,” she said softly, thanking him when he pulled out a chair for her at a nearby table. “So…how’ve you been?” she asked, watching as he sat across from her, still reeling from the fact that her college boyfriend was in front of her.

“I’m good,” Riley said, nodding in affirmation. “I’m moving back here, and I’m trying to get some things together for the house.”

“That’s nice,” Buffy said with a slight smile.

“So, what happened to you after graduation?” he asked.

“Um…not much,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m an… art dealer,” she said, using the cover story after a moment. “It’s nice.”

“That’s great,” Riley said.

The two made small talk as Buffy ate her salad, catching up on each other’s lives and exchanging flirty smiles for the next hour.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Riley finally asked, seeing Buffy’s eyes raise to his.

“Um… not… not really,” she said, biting her lip as she looked at the table.

“Would you… maybe like to go out sometime?” he asked, giving her the same boyish grin that won her over in college.

“Uh… yeah… I guess that would be okay,” she said with a slight shrug.

“Great!” Riley replied enthusiastically, checking his watch a moment later. “I better run- I need to get to the bank before they close- but what about Friday at eight?”

“Friday? Tomorrow- Friday?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Buffy said, nodding as she stood up, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling as she pulled a business card from her wallet and handed it to him. “There’s my address. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Riley smiled as he accepted the card, leaving a tender kiss on her cheek before waving good-bye.

Watching Riley walk away, Buffy sighed as she sat down at the table, staring at her water bottle for a few moments before preparing to leave.

“Having fun, pet?”

Her shoulders immediately went rigid at the sound of the soft accent behind her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder to look at Spike as he walked around and sat in the seat that Riley had occupied minutes earlier.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“I was just going to say the same thing,” she replied, raising an eyebrow. “Only the American version.”

“Would that be ‘What’s up’?” he asked with a slight smile.

Buffy smiled, looking at the table to avoid his piercing eyes. “What are you doing here, Spike?”

“Saw you talking… decided to say hi. Who was he?”

Raising an eyebrow at the abrupt change in his tone, Buffy looked up, leveling him with her own gaze. “Old boyfriend,” she replied, judging his reaction, her jaw tightening when he raised his own eyebrow.

“High school?” he asked, never taking his gaze away from hers.

“College,” she replied, feeling her anger mounting. “He had to move away, and my mom was sick, so I couldn’t… we’d probably still be together today if it wasn’t for that.”

Her eyes widened when Spike immediately laughed. “That pillock wouldn’t be able to hold onto a girl like you,” he said.

“He held onto me for years,” she replied, tightening her jaw, trying to ignore the fact that Spike was obviously having her followed. There was no other explanation for him being in a mall of all places after she had spent the afternoon with her ex-boyfriend. Knowing that he must have been tipped off by whoever was following her, she felt the need to put the blonde in his place. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure how to do that.

Standing up, she quickly gathered her bags, looking up when she saw Spike stand with her.

“What are you doing here, Spike?” she asked, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

“Shopping,” he stated, gesturing around the mall.

“Shopping?” she repeated, shaking her head as she walked toward the exit. “For what?” she asked, knowing he was following her.

“For… clothes,” he replied, struggling for an answer.

“Clothes?” she replied, turning around with a disbelieving smile. “I don’t think they have Gucci.”

“Do you really think I’m that shallow?” he asked, following her as she continued out the door and through the parking lot.

“I think you’re used to having everything you want, anytime you want.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked with an edge to his voice, watching her load her bags into the black BMW.

“I don’t know,” Buffy said, growing frustrated as she kept her back to him. “I guess it’s just a feeling that I have.”

Gently taking her elbow in his hand, Spike slowly turned her around. “Talk to me.”

“What’s to talk about?” she asked, looking up at him, trying to paste a smile on her face.

“How about the fact that you’re not who you pretend to be?”

Going rigid under his hand, Buffy suddenly felt short of breath, her lips parting as her eyes widened in shock. “W-what do you mean?” she asked, trying to swallow the lump in her throat that was causing the shaky quality of her voice.

“You like to play the role of the sophisticated, worldly woman,” he said, letting go of her arm and walking over to the car. “The one who drives a 325i BMW Sedan. The one who buys elegant dresses and attends art gallery openings. When in fact, you’re nothing more than a little girl playing dress up, who would rather be home with a book than out at a party on any given night.”

Managing to get her breathing under control, she narrowed her eyes on the man in front of her. “Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?”

“You tell me,” he replied.

“Are you mad at me about something?” she asked in exasperation.

Running a hand over his face, Spike shook his head. “I’m sorry… I’ve just… It’s been a bad day.”

Not wanting to think about the underlying truths in that sentence and what could have possibly transpired to make it such a bad day for him, Buffy took a deep breath. “Then what are you doing shopping?” she asked, hoping to catch him in the blatant lie. “Shouldn’t you be at home with a cigarette and a nice glass of scotch?”

Looking around for a moment, Spike shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just wanted to unwind, I guess.”

“Right,” Buffy replied in a disbelieving tone, turning away from him and searching for her keys.

“What the bloody hell is your problem?” he asked, causing Buffy to spin around and face him with sparks flashing in her eyes.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said sarcastically, looking around the parking lot as if the conversation wasn’t affecting her at all. “Maybe the fact that I thought you were a little different, but you really are like every other man out there.”

“What?” he asked in a soft voice, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“I just… I thought we had something,” she said, looking down at the ground before slowly raising her eyes to his, trying to smile through whatever it was that she was feeling. “Guess I was wrong, huh?” she asked, casting her eyes downward once again.

“Buffy,” Spike said softly, hooking a finger under her chin and directing her gaze back to his. “What are you talking about, love?”

“A week,” she whispered. “One week, and I haven’t heard from you. And the only thing I can think of is that you got something you wanted out of it and didn’t call, or you didn’t get something you wanted and you didn’t call. Either way…it’s the same result.”

“I…I’ve been busy, pet,” he whispered, seeing her blink back the tears in her eyes.

“Right,” she murmured, angry at herself for not being able to control her emotions. And it scared her because she wasn’t acting. “I better go,” she murmured.

Buffy’s eyes widened when she found herself pinned to the car, Spike’s arms on either side of her. Looking up in confusion, her body tensed when she felt his lips on hers.

Spike didn’t deepen the kiss, merely testing her response to him. He relaxed slightly when she hesitantly returned it before pulling away.

“Goodbye, Spike,” she whispered, lightly pushing against his chest.

Seeing that he’d hurt her with his thoughtlessness, Spike cupped her face in his hands, making her look at him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Go out with me tomorrow night.”

“I can’t,” she replied, pushing against him with more force.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” he asked, obviously not used to rejection.

“I have a date,” she said, tightening her jaw as she waited for his response.

“What?”

“A date,” she said, pronouncing more clearly. “This thing that single people do when they don’t use each other for sexual favors.”

Wincing at the description, Spike stared at her for a long moment. “Who?”

“None of your business,” she muttered, finally extracting herself from his hold and turning to the car. Jumping in surprise when she found herself pinned against it once again, she closed her eyes when she felt his breath on her ear.

“It’s your ex boy-toy, isn’t it?” he asked softly, his voice coming out in a menacing whisper that reminded Buffy of who she was dealing with.

“Why do you care?” she asked, gritting her teeth, hating the fact that she was pressed against a car with nowhere to go.

“Maybe because you’re supposed to be with me,” he replied, his tone of voice dropping even lower.

Clenching her jaw, Buffy’s eyes narrowed. Slamming her elbow into his stomach, she spun around, taking him by surprise and shoving him against the SUV behind him. “Is that a fact?” she asked, seeing the shock and appreciation in his eyes.

Studying her for a moment, Spike grabbed her wrists, jerking her forward until he was holding onto her. “Impressive,” he murmured, seconds before crushing his lips to hers.

Battling him for a moment, Buffy soon surrendered to his advances, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to her.

Breaking away with a gasp after a moment, she looked up at him with wide eyes, taking in deep breaths. “I really need to go now,” she whispered, feeling lightheaded from the kiss.

“Come over tomorrow,” he said softly.

“Spike, I just told you…”

“After,” he clarified. “Come over after.”

“It might be late,” she replied, not sure of what reaction she was trying to get out of him, only knowing that she wanted an indication of what he was feeling. She watched the indecision on his face as he battled with his dominant nature.

“I’ll be up,” he finally said, clenching his jaw to stop any other remarks.

Buffy gave him a soft smile before pulling him closer to her for a brief, gentle kiss. “Then I’ll be there.”




Thanks so much to: caatje, Lindsay, Tam, Cordykitten, Franchesca, Pam, gypsy_jin, spufette, Charlene, willowmouse, BuffyandSpikeForever, Sevvy_O, H, B, baby spikes, Bint, Caitie, Tahmoe, Mariana, Kimber, Crystal Pegasus, & 3988Akasha for reviewing!

Chapter 13 – Secrets & Lies


Buffy didn’t go directly to Spike’s after Riley left the next night. She knew that he was having her followed, and she wanted to prove to him that he didn’t own her. That she was the one thing in his life that he couldn’t control.

After dinner, a movie, and coffee at her house, Buffy had said good night to Riley, thanking him for a lovely evening.

Changing into a pair of khaki pants and a silky black shirt, she prepared to leave the house, pausing for a moment before reaching the door. Deciding to do something that she hadn’t done in weeks, Buffy walked to her safe, quickly spinning the combination.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled out the thick folder and stared at it for a moment. Finally opening the file that she hadn’t dared to look at since she started getting to know Spike, she took a deep breath, pulling out the information that she’d read on the day she’d been assigned to William Reed.

One of the most brutal businessmen in the world…a resourceful and cunning criminal…he doesn’t stop until everything in his path is neutralized…ruthless manipulator…very dangerous individual and a known, but not convicted, murderer…described as cold-blooded and unfeeling…

Skimming through the rest of the file, she finally closed it, letting her head fall into her hands as the stress of the situation began to catch up with her.

Running her hands down her face until they were folded under her chin, she took a few calming breaths, thinking about the man described in the file and the man she felt like she knew.

“Who are you?” she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. “Who’s the real guy? Are they both fake?”

Growing frustrated that she didn’t have any answers for her questions, she finally stood up, collecting the file and putting it back in her safe. She was no closer to finding out anything real about this man than she was on the day she met him.

Giles would be calling for an update sometime in the next week- she was sure of that- and if she didn’t have anything resembling evidence, then he was certain to plant a live feed on her. In the beginning, that might have put her at ease, but at this stage of their…whatever it was that they were… Buffy knew that she wouldn’t feel safe or comfortable having a transmitter on her.

Pushing all thoughts out of her mind, she walked out of the front door, slipping on a light jacket as she got into her car.

* * * * *

“Mr. Reed is expecting you,” the employee said as he opened the door, causing Buffy to smile slightly.

“Of course he is,” she said, nearly rolling her eyes at the fact that he was probably getting hourly reports on her life.

Following the larger man through the house and into the spacious living room, she saw Spike standing behind the bar in the corner of the room. Watching the employee walk out of the room, shutting the door behind him, Buffy didn’t say a word as she shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it over one of the black leather couches that stood between the two of them.

Staring at him for a moment as he moved around behind the bar, she raised an eyebrow, determined not to talk first. A silent battle of wills that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things but seemed important at the moment.

“Have fun on your date?” he finally asked after a minute, pouring two drinks.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” she replied, not willing to give an inch while he crossed the room, offering her the crystal glass.

“That right?” he said with a slight smile, looking her up and down, pausing to admire the hint of cleavage that her shirt offered him.

“We’re going out again next week,” she said, lying easily, knowing that he had no way of knowing that she and Riley had decided to be just friends. She was perversely enjoying the fact that his eyes briefly widened, showing her a sliver of his true emotions before the calm mask fell into place.

“Maybe you are,” he said, taking a step forward and tilting his head to get a better look at her. “Or you might use that smart brain of yours and realize that Captain Cardboard isn’t the one for you.”

“And who would that be?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, enjoying the game they were playing a little too much. “You?”

Before Spike could answer, their gazes left each other at the sound of a loud knock on the door. Opening his mouth to reply, his eyes hardened when the door flew open, leaving one of his employees standing in front of him, a shocked expression on his face.

Not saying anything for a long moment, Spike waited until the man noticeably gulped before taking a few steps toward him, setting his glass on the closest available flat surface.

“What?” he asked in a cold voice.

“Ethan asked me to give this to you,” the man said, offering Spike the folder, wincing when the blonde snatched it out of his hand.

“Out.”

Buffy watched as the man practically ran from the room at Spike’s order before turning her gaze to him. Seeing the nervous way he was tapping the file against his palm, she decided to up the stakes. “Ethan?”

Spinning around to face her, Spike’s entire demeanor seemed to change. “What?” he asked in a soft voice, trying to appease whatever she was asking.

“He said ‘Ethan’,” Buffy said with a shrug, setting her drink down on an end table. “Thought you didn’t like Ethan, that’s all.”

“Never said I didn’t like him, lamb,” he said with a smile.

“Do you?”

“Well… no.”

Smiling in response, Buffy took a few steps forward, teasingly reaching for the folder. “It must be awfully important for the great and powerful Spike to be interrupted,” she teased, looking up at him when he held it out of her reach, an indifferent expression on his face. “Come on, Spike, gimme,” she said with a smile that soon faded when she saw his expression turn serious.

“‘Fraid I can’t do that, Goldilocks,” he said, turning away from her and walking over to a locked cabinet.

Seeing him take a key out of his pocket and unlock the door, Buffy walked over, making another attempt to teasingly snatch the folder from him.

“Leave it,” Spike said in a harsh tone, throwing the file in the cabinet and slamming the door shut.

Stunned into silence for a moment, Buffy quickly regained her composure, lifting her head defiantly.

“Wow, if I knew you were going to be such an asshole tonight, I wouldn’t have bothered,” she said, turning around and walking toward the door, grabbing her jacket on the way out.

“Buffy, wait,” he called after her, walking toward her when she turned around.

“For what?” she asked, folding her arms in front of her chest. “I’m sorry if I insulted you, Spike, but I guess I kind of figured that if it was anything serious, you wouldn’t be getting it in front of someone else. After all, what could be so important that you keep it hidden from the person that…whatever the hell it is that we are,” she finished, gesturing between them. “So what’s so important?” she asked, folding her arms around her jacket as she stared at him, hoping for any number of things, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted any response to be the truth.

“I can’t tell you,” he said softly. “It’s… It’s work-related.”

“Okay,” Buffy said with an understanding nod. “I can accept that. See you later, Spike,” she finished, turning toward the door.

“Did I ever tell you what I thought the very first time I saw you?”

Turning around in surprise at the abrupt change of topic and the fact that he was casually leaning against the back of the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, Buffy had to let a slight smile come over her face.

“You’re trying to keep me here,” she stated, her smile widening when he slowly raised an eyebrow.

“Is it working?” he asked with a smirk.

Tossing her jacket over a nearby chair, she crossed her own arms over her chest. “Maybe,” she murmured, tilting her head to study him. “So… what did you first think of me?”

“I thought… how fast can I get her in my bed.”

Buffy’s lips parted in surprise before a disbelieving laugh made its way to Spike’s ears.

“Do I get points for honesty?” he asked with a smile.

“Yeah,” Buffy said with a slight nod, closing the distance between them and letting her hands play along his stomach. “I’ll give you that,” she murmured, looking up until her lips were nearly brushing against his. “But that’s all you get,” she whispered, smiling when his eyes narrowed slightly.

“For now?” he asked in a hopeful tone.

“What did you think of me when you got to know me?” she asked, ignoring his question, smiling when Spike’s head snapped back in surprise before he quickly regained his composure.

“I thought… you’re amazing.”

Giving him a genuine smile, Buffy finally nodded in response to his previous question. “For now.”





Thanks so much to: spufette, H, DK, kelly, Pam, Abbyland, Franchesca, carrie, Kimber, gypsy_jin, Brittany, Mariana, jennybean, B, BuffyandSpikeForever, Cordykitten, baby spikes, Crystal Pegasus, caatje, willowmouse, spikes_niblet, spikegirl, Charlene, ChrissieLinnit, Caitie, Tahmoe, phantomwriter, & Sevvy_O for reviewing!

Chapter 14 – Gone in the Night


Spike stood in front of Buffy, staring at her for a long moment before a slow smile spread on his lips. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the room.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her brows furrowed as she allowed herself to be pulled through the hallways of the mansion.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said with a wicked grin, slowing down enough to wrap an arm around her waist.

“I don’t like surprises,” Buffy replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s a shame… because I love giving them.”

“Of the good kind or the bad kind?” she asked, looking over at him.

“Either,” he said with a shrug.

“An equal opportunity surpriser,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I don’t think I’m going to like this.”

Allowing him to lead her out of the front door, Buffy had a mild sense of panic at the fact that she was unarmed. It was a thought that hadn’t crossed her mind for over a week, but the feeling of not knowing where she was going was enough to cause the need for familiarity to return.

Seeing Spike’s driver standing next to the limousine, waiting for his employer, was enough to put her a little more at ease.

“Come on,” Spike said, letting go of her waist to grab her hand once again.

Hesitantly getting into the limo, Buffy stayed quiet for a few minutes, watching the scenery glide by as the car pulled away from the house. Turning toward Spike after a few minutes, she blushed when she saw him watching her intently.

Buffy gasped a moment later when his lips began to caress her throat, causing her to close her eyes and tilt her head, wanting to give him better access. Smiling when the sensuality turned to playfulness, she made a halfhearted attempt to move away from him.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, giggling when Spike pulled her onto his lap so she couldn’t move further away.

“It’s a surprise,” he murmured into her ear, repeating the infuriating phrase.

“Spike, it’s late, I’ve had a long night, and when I agreed to stay a little later, I figured it was for an extra drink- I didn’t think that it would involve you kidnapping me,” she said, pulling back to look at him.

“Trust me, Goldilocks,” he said, leaning back against the leather seat.

Buffy finally sighed, relaxing slightly as she turned to watch the city fly by through the limousine window.

Her anxiety was slowly starting to grow when she saw the airport come into view. Taking a deep breath when they began going through an area labeled ‘Restricted Access’, she turned toward Spike.

“Okay… the kidnapping level is suddenly moving into the extreme. Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you on a little break,” he said, looking at her with a level gaze.

“A ‘little break’?” she repeated, becoming more frustrated as he stared at her with an indifferent expression. “Spike, I can’t just up and leave to go… wherever it is that you’re planning on taking me.”

“I think you can,” he said in a low voice.

Buffy swallowed, taking a deep breath as she looked into his eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, never taking his eyes off of her. “What would be wrong?”

“You just seem a little uneasy,” she said as the car rolled to a stop.

“I’m fine, Buffy,” he replied, letting his head fall back against the seat as he waited for the driver to open the door.

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes as she grabbed the door handle.

“What…”

“You might be too good to open a car door, but I’m not,” she said, getting out of the car. If she was going to be taken somewhere and didn’t have a choice in the matter, she was going to control whatever little things she could. Even if that was putting him in his place and opening her own car door.

Listening to the click of her heels against the tarmac, she wrapped her arms around herself, wishing that Spike had given her a little more warning to grab her jacket from the house before they’d left.

Studying the private jet that was looming in front of her, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

‘This isn’t me,’ she thought, wrapping her arms more securely around herself as she reopened her eyes. ‘Even if you weren’t here for a job, you’d never fit into this lifestyle.’

“Ready?”

Turning toward Spike when she felt his hand on the small of her back, she gave him a slight nod, letting him lead her toward the plane and up the steps.

“You’re mad at me,” he said with an amused smile.

Buffy didn’t say anything- she merely looked at him as she sat down in one of the cream-colored leather seats.

Spike smirked, sitting down across from her.

“Would you like a drink, Mr. Reed?”

Buffy turned at the sound of the voice, nearly rolling her eyes at the sight of the big-breasted, bleached airhead who was flirting with him.

“My usual, love,” he said, biting his bottom lip while he looked her up and down.

This time Buffy did roll her eyes, standing up to walk toward the back of the plane as Spike continued flirting. She could feel his eyes on her when she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the familiar number.

Turning her back on Spike, she listened to the sound of the phone ringing, sighing when the machine picked up and her best friend’s voice traveled toward her. Waiting for the beep, she left a quick message.

“Hi, Will. I’m sorry, I’m going to have to postpone our lunch date tomorrow. It looks like I’m going to be out of town. I’ll call you as soon as I get a chance. I miss you.”

Turning around, Buffy jumped when she saw Spike standing there. Her hand immediately traveled to her chest, trying to regulate her breathing.

“Will?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“What about it?” she asked, tucking her phone away as she walked back to her seat.

“You’re seeing three men now?”

“You tell me,” she said, tightening her jaw, knowing that she was coming dangerously close to revealing a secret about herself- or the fact that she knew his secret.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Buffy searched his eyes for a moment, her own expression softening as she looked at him. “You’re a powerful man, Mr. Reed,” she said, her voice barely reaching his ears. “You’re used to controlling everything around you. Am I supposed to believe that you’re not trying to control me?”

Staring at her in confusion, Spike straightened slightly. “Are you implying something?”

“What is this?” she asked, gesturing around the area.

“I think you know.”

“What is this?” she repeated more forcefully, taking a step toward him.

“This is me,” he said, a slight note of anger in his voice.

“Exactly,” she replied. “It’s you. The cars, the plane, the money, the women,” she continued, gesturing toward the front of the plane, where the flight attendant presumably was. “You can buy all of it… but not me. You can’t win me, Spike. I’m not a prize. I know you. I know you like to have a semblance of control, but that works both ways.”

“You think this little trip is to control you?”

“No, I normally have to rearrange my schedule because men want to fly me to undisclosed locations,” she said sarcastically, turning to look out of the small window behind her, seeing people moving around outside, preparing them for takeoff. “It’s because of Riley, isn’t it?” she asked, getting control over her emotions while she waited for him to respond.

“Maybe,” he replied.

“Maybe?” she repeated.

“Maybe I just wanted to show you something different. Show you what Captain Cardboard can’t offer you.”

“You didn’t need to do this,” Buffy cried in exasperation, spinning around to face him. “Haven’t you seen the way I live? No, I’m not filthy rich, but I’m happy and I like being happy. I don’t care about houses or yachts or the stupid plane. I don’t need trips to… wherever we’re going for the weekend.”

“You’re ready to go home, then?” he asked in amusement as the plane began to slowly move.

“Spike,” she groaned, running her hands through her hair in frustration before sitting in her seat. “I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful, because I am,” she said softly, taking his hand and guiding him to the seat next to her. Looking into his eyes, she let her hands gently trail along his arm when he sat. “But I just like to have a little more control in my own life. And if this is all just something to impress me… I don’t need it.” Choking back all of the anxiety and regret and pushing away everything that told her she shouldn’t be opening up to him as much, she continued, “I’m here because I want to be with you… I want to get to know you.”

“Is that right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking up at him, trying to make him understand. “That’s right. It’s who I am… If you think that you need someone who can be the trophy wife or the arm candy or whoever you need her to be… tell me.”

“You looking for a proposal already?” he asked with a smirk.

Buffy raised an eyebrow in irritation. “I hope you know that you’re really asking for a punch in the nose.”

“Come on, love, you know you want me,” he replied, leering at her.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy let her head fall into her hands. “You’re beyond frustrating, do you know that?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard it before.”

“Maybe your big ego has affected your hearing.”

Turning toward her with a raised eyebrow, a smile played on Spike’s lips as he looked at her in amusement.

“Or I guess it could be that people are afraid of you,” she said, sitting back in her seat and glancing at him before looking away.

“Sounds about right.”

Buffy looked over at him, hearing the confirmation. Studying him for a long moment, she refused to be intimidated by his strong gaze. “Well, I’m not.”






Thanks so much to: Brittany, PK_, Caitie, Tahmoe, DK, Franchesca, Cordykitten, Kimber, ChrissieLinnit, willowmouse, B, BuffyandSpikeForever, txjmfan, baby spikes, Mariana, gypsy_jin, Charlene, Crystal Pegasus, & Sevvy_O for reviewing!

Chapter 15 – Letting Loose


“Look out the window, love,” Spike said from his seat, his eyes closed as he tried to get some rest before they landed.

Leaning over slightly, Buffy looked out to see the bright lights below her. Staring for a few more moments, she turned to Spike, a slight smile on her face. “Vegas? You brought me to Vegas?”

“Viva Las Vegas,” he said, shifting in his seat, never looking at her.

“If you’re so tired, then why are we on a plane right now?” she asked, letting her head roll back against the seat.

Finally opening his eyes, Spike turned to look at her, offering her a smile. “Because it will be fun, Goldilocks.”

* * * * *

“I won!” Buffy squealed, spinning around and feeling herself immediately wrapped in Spike’s strong arms. “Oh my God, that’s like three in a row, and I never win,” she said, pulling back to give him a bright smile.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’d have fun?” he said, tenderly brushing the hair away from her face.

“You were right,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before turning back to the table.

Picking up the dice, she gave Spike another smile before rolling them.

“Seven!”

Buffy laughed in disbelief, turning toward Spike, who was waiting to give her another hug, obviously enjoying the fact that she was winning just as much as Buffy herself.

Glancing across the room, Spike took a deep breath, seeing the man give him a slight nod. “Be back in a minute, lamb,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to her cheek before walking away, never looking at her.

Buffy watched in confusion as Spike crossed the casino, meeting up with an attractive man and walking toward a door that was heavily guarded.

“Miss?”

Finally hearing the voice, she turned back to the table.

“Would you like to play again?”

“Um…no,” she said, shaking her head. “I think I’ll just cash out.”

Walking through the casino a few minutes later, Buffy was growing restless. Irritably looking at the imposing door every few seconds, her nerves were on edge.

‘What’s he planning?’

“Miss Summers?”

Turning at the sound of her name, she raised an eyebrow when she saw the man Spike had been talking to.

“My name is Charles Gunn. Mr. Reed is currently going to have to stay a little longer in a business meeting, and he asked me to watch after you.”

“Business meeting?” she repeated skeptically. “It’s almost three in the morning.”

“Clocks have no meaning in Vegas,” he said with an easy smile.

“Well, Mr. Gunn-”

“Just Gunn,” he interrupted.

“Well, Gunn...why don’t you go back and tell your employer that I’ll be fine on my own?”

Walking away before he could say another word, Buffy made her way through the casino. Entering the lobby of the Bellagio a few minutes later, she turned around to make sure Gunn wasn’t following her.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she pressed her palms to her forehead. She didn’t know if she was more frustrated with Spike for doing something underhanded while she was with him, or at herself for not being smart enough to figure out what it was.

Trying to clear her head, she walked through the huge lobby and out of the hotel. She had been so amazed by all of the lights when they showed up that she hadn’t paid much attention to the famous Fountains of Bellagio.

Listening to the whimsical music that floated toward her as the choreographed lights and sounds began playing in the distance, Buffy stepped up to the railing, mesmerized by the show in front of her.

Watching for a moment, her eyes widened at the spectacle.

“Oh wow,” Buffy breathed, her eyes wide as she stared at the streams of water. Watching the remainder of the current show, she stayed where she was, amazed when another show started a few minutes later.

She briefly closed her eyes when she felt Spike wrap his arms around her waist, letting his chin rest on her shoulder. “Thought you had abandoned me,” she murmured, not willing to start a fight with such a beautiful sight in front of her.

“As if I could,” he replied, his breath tickling her throat.

“I thought you were going to be a while,” she said, turning to glance at him.

“Gunn told me you seemed upset,” he said, staring at the fountains.

“Not upset,” she replied, leaning against him. “Just don’t really feel like being left alone in a place I’m unfamiliar with, that’s all.”

“Sorry, pet,” he said. “Couldn’t be helped.”

Glancing back at him, she slowly relaxed, forcing herself to forget about what had transpired between Spike and whoever he was meeting. Buffy turned to wrap her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. Breathing a sigh when he pulled her closer, she snuggled more securely against him.

Watching the remainder of the show in comfortable silence, Buffy waited until the last of the mist faded away before reluctantly pulling back.

“Thanks for this, William,” she whispered, looking up at him with an unreadable expression, watching a smile spread on his face that she called him by his actual name. “It was a fun night.”

“Not jetlagged, are you?” he asked with a smile, leading her toward the doorway of the Bellagio.

“From a flight that short? No,” she said with a smile that soon faded when she realized they were going back into the famous hotel/casino. “Where are we going?” she asked, turning to look at him.

Pulling her even closer, Spike nuzzled her neck, sending a shiver racing down her spine. “I got us a hotel room,” he said, kissing along her throat. “Stay with me,” he whispered, pulling back to brush his lips against hers in a tender kiss. “Please,” he continued, seeing the indecision on her face.

Biting her lip as she looked at the imposing building, Buffy turned back to him, seeing his expressive eyes pleading with her.

Kissing him softly, she let the tenderness escalate until she pulled away, gasping for air. Pushing everything that should have been important to the back of her mind, she leaned close to whisper, “Take me to bed, Spike.”

* * * * *

The two barely made it into the hotel room before they began tearing each other’s clothes off. Eagerly kissing every inch of exposed skin, Buffy barely had a chance to admire Spike’s muscular chest before she was lifted into his arms. Feeling the cool wall against the bare skin of her back, she arched toward Spike, seeing the satisfied smile on his face at the effect he was having on her.

Divesting each other of the remainder of their clothes, their eyes met in silent understanding. Buffy gently brushed her lips against his, seconds before crying out when he thrust into her.

Seeing Spike pull back to stare at her for a moment, she took a deep breath, hesitantly moving against him.

Spike quickly gained control, pushing her more forcefully against the wall, setting a furious pace that Buffy eagerly matched. Plunging into her, he felt her inner walls clutching at his cock, begging for release. Slipping his hand between them, he gently circled her clit before putting more pressure against it until she was screaming out her climax.

Relaxing against him, Buffy was vaguely aware that Spike was walking through the huge suite, toward the bedroom. Breathing deeply when she felt him gently lower her to the bed, Buffy tightened her hold on him, reluctant to let him go.

Spike moaned when her hips arched toward his, allowing his hand to slip around to the small of her back, holding her close to him. Gently thrusting into her, he nearly lost control when she began to move against him more rapidly. Spike was soon pounding into her, seeking his own release.

Crying out when he grinded his hips against her clit, Buffy found herself falling over the edge for the second time that night, clutching at him as she rode out her orgasm. Breathing heavily when Spike climaxed, she relaxed against the bed, shivering when his lips found the pulse point of her throat, sending chills racing through her body.

“Amazing,” Spike said in a husky voice. “You’re amazing.”

“I was just going to say the same thing,” she replied with a breathless laugh, immediately following him when Spike began to roll away from her. Snuggling into his side, Buffy’s eyes nearly snapped open when she felt his fingers trail along her stomach before traveling lower, stroking her until she was nearly mindless with need once again.

It was going to be a long night.




Thank you so much to: H, Tahmoe, BuffyandSpikeForever, Franchesca, txjmfan, caatje, willowmouse, spufette, Kimber, Caitie, baby spikes, Cordykitten, gypsy_jin, Megan & Jessica for reviewing!

Chapter 16 – Right Place, Wrong Time


Opening her eyes the next morning, Buffy squinted against the light that was filtering into the room through the curtains.

Sitting up in bed, she pulled the sheet with her, clutching at it with one hand while the other worked on smoothing her hair.

Not seeing Spike anywhere, every insecurity and worry that she’d ever felt in her life suddenly seemed to haunt her. Moving to get out of the bed, she stopped when she heard his voice.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Turning toward the door, Buffy finally relaxed, seeing Spike leaning against the frame, unconcerned with his nude body as he pushed away from the casing and walked across the room, giving her an opportunity to rake her eyes over his body in appreciation.

Sitting down next to her, he gently brushed her hair away from her cheek, cupping it in his hand as he leaned forward and tenderly kissed her forehead. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Someone wore me out.”

“And I’d be happy to do it again,” he said, lifting the sheet to lie down on the bed, spooning his body against hers.

Relaxing when she felt his lips caress her shoulder and along the slope of her neck, her body trembled when she felt him push his erection against her lower back.

Clutching at the sheet, Buffy nearly cried out when he repositioned himself and eased into her body from behind.

Guiding her leg until it was draped over her, Spike began to slowly move inside of her. “Any regrets?” he asked, the smile obvious in his voice.

“What do you think?” she gasped, moving her lower body with his.

Pumping into her slowly, Spike took his time, kissing every inch of skin that he came in contact with.

Growing restless after a few moments, Buffy’s hand began to slide over her stomach, seeking relief from the fire he was building inside of her.

Seeing her intent, Spike quickly intercepted, rubbing harshly against her clit, creating a direct contrast with the slow thrusts that had her clenching around his cock, triggering his own release as they both gasped and cried out, trembling against each other.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Buffy smiled. “That’s a hell of a way to say good morning,” she whispered breathlessly.

“I could do that every morning,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her more forcefully toward him.

Staying quiet for a few more minutes, Buffy glanced over her shoulder. “When do we leave?” she asked with a slight pout, not wanting to ever get out of their bed.

She didn’t want to go back and function in a place that was her world. Or, used to be her world.

“Not for a few hours,” he murmured, kissing her throat. “Plenty of time to lay here and relax,” he said with a smile in his voice.

“And how do you propose we relax?” she asked, trailing her hand along his arm that was still tightly clutching his waist.

“This seems good to me,” he said with a smile.

“Tell me something about you,” she said a moment later, reluctantly pulling away, moaning softly when they separated.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, watching as she turned over to face him.

“What about kids?” she asked softly, slowly raising her eyes to his, not wanting to think about the invisible barriers that were being crossed. “Do you want any?”

“Want about a hundred,” he said with a smile, idly tracing the bare skin of her arm.

“Do you have any?” she asked, looking away when his strong gaze met hers, briefly wondering why she had bothered to bring up this subject. She knew she couldn’t have a future with this man.

“No,” he whispered, brushing a kiss over her temple. “Never met the right woman… at the time.”

Feeling her heart flip in her chest, Buffy bit her lip, hiding the smile that wanted to make itself known. “Breakfast?” she asked, not waiting for an answer as she climbed out of bed.

Placing an arm behind his head, he let a slow smile play on his lips, admiring her as she walked out of the room.

Breathing a heavy sigh a moment later, he slowly got out of the bed, walking through the huge penthouse, grabbing his pants on the way to the kitchen. He smiled at the sight of her clothes that were scattered around the entryway.

Walking into the kitchen a moment later, he stopped when he saw Buffy wearing his black silk shirt, the fabric skimming over her thighs.

“Was wondering where my shirt was,” he said, pushing away from the doorframe when she turned to look at him. “But if I’d known it would look that good on you, I would have given you ten more.”

Closing the refrigerator, Buffy turned to face him. “This old thing?” she replied, suppressing the smile as he raised an eyebrow. “There’s nothing here,” she continued, gesturing toward the refrigerator.

“Room service?” he asked, still looking her up and down.

“We could go to one of the cafés downstairs,” she said, hoping to see a little more of the hotel during the day. “But since I was kidnapped for this little excursion, I might need to hit some of the shops.”

“Not a problem,” he said, taking her hand and leading her toward the bathroom. “Quick shower and then we’ll explore a bit.”

Smiling as she watched him turn the water of the shower on, she raised an eyebrow when he turned to face her, loosening the few buttons that were holding the shirt together.

“I thought I would have my own shower,” she said, giggling when he undressed and pushed her lightly underneath the spray.

“And miss the chance to see you all wet?” he murmured, pressing her against the wall and kissing along her collarbone. “I don’t think so.”

“We’re never going to make it out of here,” Buffy whispered, wrapping her legs around his waist, showing him that she would be happy to stay where she was.

“Fifteen minutes,” he murmured, slowly pushing into her, delighting in the way her body arched against his, seeking him out.

* * * * *

Stepping out of the elevator over an hour later, Buffy nearly blushed at the look Spike gave her.

Tightening his hold on her hand, he led her through the huge lobby toward the shops. Extracting his wallet from his back pocket, he slipped a credit card from it and offered it to her.

Seeing the platinum card, Buffy nearly took a step away from him, shaking her head.

“I can get my own clothes,” she said, frowning when she saw his gaze redirected to the shops. Looking around, her eyes widened at what she saw- Chanel, Prada, Gucci, Hermés, and dozens of other stores.

“Take it,” he whispered, dangling the card in front of her. “I don’t do this for just anyone,” he said, raising an eyebrow when she looked at him.

Feeling intimidated for one of the few times in her life, Buffy hesitantly reached out, accepting the card that contained more money than she would make in a year.

“Have fun,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Where will you be?” she asked, not liking the idea of leaving him.

“Around,” he said with a secretive smile, giving her a soft kiss before turning and walking away.

Knowing that she should follow him, Buffy took a deep breath. Relaxing a little when she saw him disappear into the Armani store, she forced her conscience to take a back seat as she walked into one of the nearby stores.

* * * * *

Keeping an eye out for Buffy, he watched as the manager of Tiffany and Co. wrapped the diamond necklace and matching earrings and put them in the signature blue boxes.

Handing the bag to the valued customer, the manager gave him a smile. “Have a wonderful stay at the Bellagio, Mr. Reed.”

“Thank you,” Spike replied, maintaining his usual cool demeanor as he turned around.

“Hi.”

His eyes widened when he saw Buffy behind him, dressed in a pair of gray pants and a silky white shirt with a cowl neck. The outfit looked like it was made for her, accentuating her figure.

“What’d you buy?” she asked, glancing at the bag in his hand.

“Birthday present,” he replied without pause. “For my mum.”

“Tell her happy birthday,” Buffy said with a smile, relaxing when he took her hand in his, leading her out of the shop. “Before I forget,” she said, holding out the credit card, waiting until Spike took it, looking at it in confusion. “As if I would forget,” she added with a laugh.

“It’s not worth using it if you don’t have an armful of bags to show for it.”

“I have a bag,” she said, gesturing downward.

“Not your old clothes,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Do you know how much this cost?” she asked in disbelief.

“What I make in less than an hour,” he said, looking around the lobby as they walked before leading her toward a nearby café.

“And how do you make that money, Mr. Reed?” she asked, turning to look at him as they entered the restaurant.

“My company, Goldilocks,” he said with a relaxed smile. “Stocks are a beautiful thing in this day and age.”

Opening her mouth to respond, Buffy stopped when she was jostled. Turning toward the person who had bumped into her, her eyes widened in shock.

“I’m sorry… Buffy?”

The one person who could make her miserable and blow her cover at the same time.

“Hi, Dad,” she said, not recognizing her own voice. “I didn’t know you were in Vegas,” she continued, trying to regain some semblance of control as she looked over at the woman on his arm.

“Buffy, meet Candi,” he said, gesturing to the blonde, who was younger than she was.

“With an ‘I’,” the girl filled in, smiling brightly.

“Buffy is my daughter,” Hank said, causing her to nearly roll her eyes when Candi got a look of recognition.

“Oooh.”

“Yeah, maybe you should have figured that out when I called him ‘Dad’,” Buffy filled in, wanting nothing more than to get away from the couple in front of her and distance herself from the entire situation.

“You never know,” the bimbo said. “He likes the Daddy fantasy.”

“This can’t get more disturbing,” Buffy muttered, feeling sick to her stomach as she looked at Hank. “Mail-order bride?” she asked dryly.

“Hey!” Candi cried indignantly.

“Butt out, Barbie.”

“You’re one to talk about names,” she replied in a ditzy voice.

“I wasn’t saying you’re an airhead because of your name,” Buffy said. “So think about that for a while.”

“Buffy-”

“Oh, don’t Buffy me, Dad,” she said in irritation. “I don’t hear from you in years, and then… You know what? Never mind. I’ve been better off without you.”

“And you’ve obviously lost your manners,” Hank said, not bothered at all by his daughter’s outburst as he turned toward Spike. “I’m Hank Summers.”

“William Reed,” he replied, shaking the man’s hand and nearly crushing it with his own grip.

“Aah, yes,” Hank said, wincing slightly as he pulled his hand away. “I’ve read about you in nearly every business section there is. Nice to see you moving up in the world, Buffy,” he said, turning toward his daughter.

Spike frowned until he heard Buffy’s voice.

“Wish I could say the same for you,” she replied, turning toward Spike. “I’m not really hungry anymore. Can we leave a little early?”

“Sure thing, love,” Spike said, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Nice seeing you, Dad,” she said, turning away from a man who had ceased being a father years earlier, finally feeling like she had a little bit of closure on that chapter of her life.

“You alright?” Spike asked, pulling her a little closer in a comforting gesture.

“Yeah,” she said, clearing her throat. “It was a fun trip… in spite of certain current events.”

“I’m glad you had a good time,” he said, kissing her temple. “Was it worth it to have me kidnap you?” he asked after a moment.

“Absolutely,” Buffy said, giving him a genuine smile. “Take me hostage anytime.”

Spike smirked at her. “Could there be bondage involved?”






Thanks so much to: BuffyandSpikeForever, Caitie, Cordykitten, & everyone who reviewed the first time the last chapter was posted!

Chapter 17 – Shadowed Whispers


“Giles, I promise, I am not flaking out on this assignment,” Buffy said, getting out of her car a week later.

“What? No, I’m not… I’m not falling for him,” she said unconvincingly as she searched for her keys and quickly opened the door.

“Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing… I’ll get it,” she said in exasperation, walking through the door. Her entire body went rigid when she saw Spike standing in the middle of her living room. “I’ve gotta go,” she said, snapping her phone shut, never taking her eyes off of Spike.

“You left the door unlocked.”

“Silly me,” she whispered, disconcerted with the fact that he was in her home and there was no way she would have left the door unlocked.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, glancing at the phone that was still in her hand. The phone that clearly wasn’t her usual cell phone.

“What? Oh… no… just business,” she said, shrugging out of her coat and putting everything away in the nearby closet.

“Anything I can do?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head as she turned to face him with a fake smile. “Just some clients of mine. They, uh… they want a painting that’s a little hard to get.”

“Which one?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

“And if the door hadn’t been unlocked…”

“Might have found a way,” Spike said with a smirk.

“You’re really infuriating, you know that?” she teased, trying not to show how shaken up she was that he could have found something that she might have carelessly left out. Reassuring herself that everything was safely locked away in her hidden safe, she tried to relax and not think about the fact that Spike Reed was a thief and could easily get around any obstacles in his path.

“Come here,” he said, holding out his hand to her.

“Where are we going?” she asked, letting him take her hand in his to lead her up the stairs.

“It’s a surprise.”

“You know how I feel about sur…”

Trailing off when she looked around her room, she turned to Spike with wide eyes.

“I thought you might like this one,” he said as Buffy walked into the room, taking in the candles that lit every surface and the rose petals on the floor, leading to the bed.

“Why did you do this?” she whispered, turning to look at him.

“Felt right,” he replied, leading her toward the bed.

Seeing blood red rose petals scattered along the bedspread, her eyes widened when she saw the blue Tiffany boxes that were nestled in the petals.

“What…?”

“For you,” he said, taking her hand in his once again and leading her toward the bed.

Picking up one of the boxes with shaking hands, Buffy opened it, revealing the beautiful diamond necklace inside. She gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth as she stared at it. “Spike, I… I can’t accept this,” she said, turning toward him, her eyes widening when she saw him open the other box, revealing the matching earrings.

“You can,” he said, taking the box from her and setting them on the nightstand. “It’s easy.”

“It’s too much…”

“Not for me,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers.

Getting lost in the kiss, Buffy soon forgot her argument as her hands slowly worked each button of his shirt until she listened to the fabric fall to the floor. Raising her arms when he lifted her shirt, she shivered when he removed it, trailing kisses along her chest.

Slowly removing each other’s clothes, they made their way over to the bed to lie down. Languidly kissing and stroking each other, Buffy felt a chill race over her body when Spike sat up.

“Where’re you going?” she asked with a pout that soon faded away when he turned toward her, holding several silk scarves in his hand. “W-what’re those for?” she asked, knowing exactly what they was for.

“I think you know,” he murmured, moving back to give her a soft kiss before pulling away with a hopeful expression. “May I?”

The uneasy feeling seemed to increase when she nodded, holding her breath while Spike secured the scarves around her wrists and the headboard, tying them snugly.

‘Can I trust him?’ she asked herself, nearly panicking when one scarf was wrapped around her eyes, extinguishing her sight. ‘I guess that’s your answer,’ she told herself, trying to control the fear that was welling up inside of her.

“You alright?” he asked, his breath tickling her throat.

“Yeah,” she whispered, closing her eyes beneath the blindfold, letting her senses heighten slightly as his hands lightly ran over her damp skin.

A slight gasp tore from her throat when she felt the soft edge of a rose petal caress her skin. She relaxed when she felt it along her throat, slowly trailing along her body as if it was floating. The velvety touch of the petal was replaced by the roughened feel of Spike’s fingertips on her calf tracing the length of her leg, pausing at her thigh.

Breathing heavily, Buffy nearly jumped off the bed when she felt his tongue on her clit. Arching toward him, she whimpered when he pulled away just as quickly.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his husky voice carrying through the room.

“You,” she said breathlessly. “All of you.”

Trembling when she felt him settle between her thighs, she tugged restlessly at the scarves that were binding her wrists.

“Spike, please,” she whispered, shivering when he slowly thrust into her.

Smiling when a tiny noise escaped her throat, it soon escalated into a strangled cry when he pulled out of her.

“Spike.”

Hearing the desperation in her voice, Spike plunged into her, crushing his lips to hers in a vicious kiss.

Eagerly moving her hips with his, Buffy jerked at the scarves, growing frustrated with them.

Never stopping his movements, Spike unknotted the fabric at her wrists, smiling when she immediately clutched at him, her arms and legs wrapping around him, afraid to let go.

Moving in and out of her hot depths, he brushed his lips against hers. Speeding up his thrusts, he continued to pump into her, feeling her body tighten in response, seeking her release.

“Come for me, baby,” he said in a rough voice, speeding up his thrusts.

Feeling her body spiral out of control, Buffy screamed out her release, hearing Spike groan as he spilled himself inside of her. Gasping for breath when he collapsed on top of her, Buffy lazily reached up, pushing the blindfold off of her eyes and tossing it on the floor, blinking for a moment to let her eyes readjust to the candlelit room.

Raising up to look at her, Spike studied her face for a long moment, until Buffy was fidgeting beneath him, growing uncomfortable with the intensity of the moment.

“Spike?”

“I love you,” he whispered, her shocked expression matching his own as he tried to get control over his emotions. “I love you, Buffy.”

Staring at him for a long moment, Buffy opened her mouth to respond, shaking her head a little to clear it. “I… I love you, too,” she murmured, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

Threading a hand through her hair, Spike eagerly kissed her, smiling against her lips as he pressed his hips more firmly against hers, feeling himself growing hard inside of her.

Moaning into his mouth, Buffy rolled her hips with his, gasping when he pulled away to press his forehead against hers.

His movements never stopping, Spike looked into her eyes. “I love you so much.”




Thanks so much to BuffyandSpikeForever & DK & everyone who originally reviewed the previous chapter, before all was lost.

Chapter 18 – Noble Intentions


“Is everything alright?” Spike asked, his hold tightening on Buffy’s hand as they walked the grounds around his mansion a week later.

“Fine,” she said in a chipper voice, turning to offer him a smile.

“You’re sure?” he asked, obviously concerned.

“I’m sure,” she repeated with a nod, looking around the expansive lawn that looked down at the house. Moving to sit down, Buffy tugged on Spike’s hand until he was sitting next to her.

Taking silent comfort from him, Buffy rested her head against his shoulder, smiling when he wrapped an arm around her and lay down on the grass, pulling her with him.

Each lay in comfortable silence for several minutes until she felt the tension in Spike’s body steadily growing.

“Okay,” she said, looking up at him. “Your turn… what’s wrong?”

“Just a little…restless…I guess.”

“Some place you need to be?” she asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “So, Miss Summers,” he said with a forced smile, obviously wanting to change the subject. “What do you want out of life?”

“You’re serious?” she asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow as he studied their linked hands while he waited for her answer.

“Can you blame me for wanting to get to know you?” he said, tilting his head to look at her.

“You do know me,” she replied, looking at him in confusion.

“Humor me, Buffy.”

Considering the question for a long moment, she responded, “My mom always told me that happiness was the key to life. That always sounded good to me,” she said softly, waiting a moment before turning toward him. “Same question, back at you,” she whispered, propping her head up on her hand to look at him.

“I think I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted out of life,” he said quietly, obviously lost in thought.

“But are you happy?” she asked, seeing the indecision in his eyes as the moonlight washed over his face.

“I am now,” he whispered, pulling her down to him for a soft kiss.

Gently letting her lips play over his, she slowly pressed her forehead against his, pulling away from the kiss. “Are you happy with me, or are you just happy that you have someone with you? That you’re not lonely?”

“How can you ask me that?” he whispered.

“Because I don’t know you, Spike,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes. “You won’t let me in.”

Considering what she was saying for a moment, Spike slowly turned toward her. “Buffy, there’s something I need to tell you,” he whispered, sitting up, waiting until she mimicked his movements before continuing. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

“About what?” she asked, swallowing hard as she waited for him to continue.

“About money.”

“Money?” Buffy repeated, her eyebrows knitting together. “You said the money was from your family?”

“A lot of it was from them, yeah,” he said with a slight nod, licking his suddenly dry lips. “But I did a lot of things that weren’t exactly…legal, by any standards.”

Looking at her to judge her reaction, he saw the gentle expression on her face. “And now?”

“There’ve been times,” he said softly. “I liked the rush…I liked the crunch…never stopped to see what I was actually doing. What I’m still doing.”

“What are you doing, Spike?” she whispered in a choked voice, fighting the tears in her eyes.

“I’ve taken a lot of things that I don’t deserve,” he muttered, avoiding her eyes. “Hurt people who thought I was their friend.”

“Have you killed anyone?” she asked, looking at him with wide eyes, seeing his gaze flash to her before looking away.

“I have,” he said softly. “I’m not happy about it… not proud of it… but I have.”

Buffy’s throat closed in dread. She’d known it was true from the moment she knew who Spike was, but it had never been confirmed from him.

“Have you stopped…everything?” she asked, nearly closing her eyes as she waited for his response.

“No,” he replied solemnly.

“I have to go,” Buffy whispered, fighting the tears in her eyes as she attempted to get to her feet, stopping when she felt Spike’s arms band around her waist, refusing to let her leave.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. Seeing the fear in her eyes when she turned toward him, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him that he had caused that. “I can’t let you leave, Buffy.”

“Spike,” she whimpered, feeling like she was being pulled in three different directions.

“I needed you to know,” he whispered. “I had to be honest with you.”

“Let me go,” she said, struggling against him.

“I can’t,” he said, his desperation growing as he held onto her. “Buffy, please listen to me. I need you to understand.”

“Understand what?” she asked, pushing away from him until she was able to stand up, watching Spike quickly get to his feet. “Understand that you’re a liar and a murderer? That you killed someone’s father or son?”

“It’s not like that,” he said, grabbing her hand when she tried to walk away. “It was kill or be killed, and I took my pick. I had to do it, Buffy.”

“You had to do it,” she repeated, closing her eyes and bringing her hands up to them, trying to erase the stress of the situation before slowly turning to look at him again, letting her hands fall away from her face.

“Yes,” he said, nodding to try and get her to understand.

“Then stop.”

“What?”

“Stop. Stop everything. Don’t get mixed up with anything bad. Please, Spike.”

“I…I can’t, love,” he whispered, shaking his head.

Opening her mouth to respond, Buffy’s eyes widened when she heard the sound of blades slicing through the air. Looking up, she took a few steps back when she saw the helicopter above them, preparing to land.

“What’s this for?” she asked, feeling her stomach clench when he cupped her face in his hands.

“Something I have to do.”

“Where?”

“Philadelphia,” he said, giving her a rushed kiss. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

“What? A few days? Where’s this coming from?” she asked, yelling over the sound of the helicopter engine.

“It’s kind of last minute. I’m sorry, love- I’ll explain more when I come home.”

“Spike, you…”

Trailing off when he jumped into the helicopter, turning around to look at her, she saw the unspoken apology in his eyes. Feeling her heart clench as she watched him mouth ‘I love you’, Buffy turned away with tears in her eyes, battling every instinct she had to stop him.

Letting the tears spill free as the chopper lifted off the ground, Buffy’s hands covered her face, knowing what she had to do.

* * * * *

Walking into FBI headquarters, Buffy took a deep breath, closing her eyes, knowing that she had to do this. She had to be strong and do what was right, no matter what her conflicting emotions told her.

Giles looked up from the electronic grid he was studying, offering Buffy a bright smile when he saw her.

“I trust that since you’re here, it’s time.”

“Spike was picked up tonight,” she said, barely managing to keep the emotions out of her voice. “The helicopter…he said that it was important and he’d see me in a few days.”

“And there’s proof that he’s done something we can catch him with?”

Throwing the file onto the table, Buffy stared at it unseeingly. “That’s all the information I’ve collected on him since I started. Angelus is going after a Renoir in Philadelphia…Spike wants to beat him to it.”

Looking down at the floor, she tried to stop her quivering chin or the nagging voice in the back of her head that said they should be going after Angelus.

Giles studied the young woman for a long moment before turning back to the grid. Entering in some numbers, he spoke as he punched in the buttons, “The helicopter, you say?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, watching as the tiny blip appeared on the screen, indicating where Spike was. Or where the helicopter was.

Feeling the beginnings of a migraine, Buffy pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead, trying to ease the tension.

“Are you alright?” Giles asked, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Buffy fought back every emotion she was feeling, meeting Giles’ gaze with a soft smile. “Just a little stressed out…good night’s sleep and I’ll be good as new.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, obviously concerned.

Staring at the grid that indicated Spike was now at the airport, she forced herself to come to terms with what she’d just done. “I’ll be fine.”




Thanks so much to: Suzee, angelbliss, Cordykitten, DK, Melissa & everyone who reviewed when this was originally posted!

Chapter 19 – Rough Night


Opening her swollen eyes at the sound of the incessant ringing, Buffy glared at the phone for a moment. The last thing she remembered was crying.

For hours.

Realizing that she must have fallen asleep, she groggily sat up, reaching for the phone on her nightstand.

“Hello?”

“Buffy, it’s me.”

Hearing Giles’ voice ring out over the line, the sound of a loud engine muffling everything around him, Buffy sat up straighter, clutching the blanket to her chest as fear gripped her.

“Is it… is it done? Do you have him?”

“No. Something… something went wrong while we were up there. He obviously knew that something was different and… he didn’t try it, Buffy. Neither did Angelus.”

“So he’s… he’s been tipped off, we don’t know by who, and you don’t know where he is?” she asked, her voice reaching a frantic level as she scrambled out of bed, unable to sit still.

Listening to Giles confirm her suspicions, she paced through her bedroom, stopping to glance out of the window.

“We don’t really know where we stand, Buffy, but be on your guard. Even more so than normal, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, glancing around the room, listening to every creak of her old house, her overactive imagination putting a story behind each one of them.

“Good... I’ll contact you when we know more. For now, just proceed with caution.”

“I will,” she said softly, hanging up the phone, the soft beep echoing through the room.

Staying where she was for a few moments, she tried to collect her thoughts. Jumping at the sound of the soft knock against the front door, she turned toward the door to her bedroom, having a silent debate with herself.

“You’re being ridiculous, Agent Summers,” she hissed at herself, walking toward the door, grabbing her satin robe on the way and securing it around her nightgown as she walked down the stairs.

Not bothering to turn on any lights, she threw open the front door, her eyes widening when she saw Spike.

“Hello, love,” he purred in a soothing tone, his voice practically caressing her overwrought nerves. Was his tone different? It sounded seductive, bordering on sinister, but she didn’t know if that was her imagination.

“You’re back,” she said with a slight smile, hugging her arms around her body and pulling her robe tighter.

“Didn’t take as long as I thought,” he replied in an unidentifiable voice. “Can I come in?”

Hearing a noticeable edge in his voice, she pasted a smile on her face, stepping aside to let him in.

“Sorry,” she said with a genuinely sheepish smile. “Knocking in the middle of the night, helpless girl- you know the drill.”

“You couldn’t be helpless if you tried,” he said, turning toward her with a smile.

Closing the door behind him, Buffy didn’t bother to look over her shoulder, knowing that she needed a moment to catch her breath.

“Still,” she said with a shrug, pretending to double-check the lock on the door before turning to face him. “Makes me nervous, this time of night.”

“Should I have called?” he asked, looking at her critically as he shrugged out of his coat.

“No,” she replied, shaking her head, practically feeling the tension crackling in the air.

Walking toward her, Buffy didn’t notice she was backing up until she was pressed against the door. Swallowing hard, she looked up at his face, tightening her jaw and silently yelling at herself for not turning on any lights. His eyes were layered in shadows, not letting her see anything.

“I guess we need to talk,” Buffy said softly, watching his distracted reaction.

“Mmm.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, biting her lip at the breathless whisper.

“Why would anything be wrong?” he whispered, his hand gently tracing the sash of her robe. Loosening it until it fell away, parting the material with his finger, he smiled when she closed her eyes.

Tentatively lowering his lips to hers, Spike slowly let his hands slide along the satin material covering her stomach. Smiling against her lips when she arched against his touch, one of his hands traveled upward, barely brushing the side of her breast, causing a tiny whimper to escape her lips as he continued higher. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he continued the gentle play of his lips on hers before putting his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her more forcefully to him.

Buffy was a mass of contradicting emotions. Her body was practically calling for Spike to take her, while her mind told her to get away and stay as far away as possible.

Was he testing her?

If he was, she was either passing or failing miserably.

Swallowing her soft moan, Spike pressed her into the door with more strength than he needed to. Seeing her confused look when she pulled away from him for a moment, he quickly lifted her into his arms, pressing his lips to hers for another passionate kiss that had her head spinning.

Buffy could feel his fingers gently skimming along her body, shivering when they brushed against the bare skin of her thigh before disappearing beneath her nightgown.

Spike smiled when he discovered she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, not hesitating to push two fingers inside of her, watching her with interest when her back arched and she cried out in painful pleasure.

Some part of her brain realized that she shouldn’t be doing this, but that part was firmly locked away in the back corner of her mind. Buffy nearly sobbed when he began pumping his fingers into her at a rapid pace.

“Spike,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut against the conflicting emotions, her fingernails clawing into his shoulders. “Too much.”

Not listening to her, Spike merely used his thumb, putting pressure on her clit until she was screaming in ecstasy, whimpering when his ministrations continued as she came down from her orgasm, leaving her over-sensitized and confused. Struggling against him for a brief moment, her hand grasped his wrist, trying to force him away from her body, unable to let her brain comprehend what was happening in her weakened state.

Breathing a sigh of relief when he stopped, Buffy let her head fall to his shoulder, moving her legs to stand again, surprised when Spike held her in place, turning to carry her up the stairs.

“Spike?” she whispered breathlessly, raising her head to look at him, seeing a mask of calmness on his features. “What’s wrong?”

Not answering her, he entered her bedroom. Buffy watched as he lay her down on the bed, his hands immediately pushing the robe from her shoulders, watching it slide down her bronzed skin and settle on the comforter.

Forgetting everything that Giles had told her, she moved until the robe was successfully removed before reaching for the hem of her nightgown and dragging it over her head.

Spike watched, practically mesmerized as her body was exposed to his gaze, swallowing hard when she looked at him with eyes filled with lust and fear.

Running a hand through his hair, Spike exhaled heavily, obviously working through something as he turned away from her.

“Spike,” she murmured, biting her lip when he didn’t turn to face her. Breathing heavily to control her emotions, she slowly reached for her nightgown, battling the tears in her eyes. Jumping when she felt her wrist grabbed in an iron grip, Buffy looked up, seeing the confusion and desperation in Spike’s gaze as he stared at her.

‘Does he know?’ she wondered fearfully, swallowing hard as he searched her face. ‘No…no, he’s too calm to know. Something happened, something’s bothering him, but it’s not me…it can’t be.’

Letting go of her wrist, he stripped off his own clothes, pinning her to the bed with his body. Not making a move to take it any further, he continued to stare at her.

“You’re starting to scare me,” she whispered, trembling when he lowered his lips to hers in a gentle caress.

Puling away after a moment, he offered her a hesitant smile. “Sorry, love.”

Reaching up to trace the smooth lines in his face, she barely touched him, staring into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Who are you?”

Buffy immediately tensed beneath him, nearly yelling at herself for her stupidity. She was trained not to be jumpy when confronted with a question like that.

Of course the training didn’t occur when a hot, naked man was on top of her, but she still should have known better.

“I’m me,” she said softly, hoping to distract him from the brief tension that had flowed through her body. “Nobody but me.”

Closing her eyes, her lips parted when he pushed into her in one thrust, his hips meeting hers, surprising her with the brutality of the moment. She didn’t know what to do- she didn’t know if Spike knew who she really was and was trying to prove a point or if he was trying find out who she was through intimacy.

“What do you want from me?” she whispered, trembling when his hips began rocking against hers, sending thrills shooting through both of them.

“You,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck. “All of you…do I have you, Buffy?”

Thrusting against him, she bit his shoulder, muffling a cry of pleasure as he continued to move against her.

Pulling away from her, Spike stared into her eyes, breathing heavily as he looked at her, letting his fingers thread through her hair, waiting for her answer. Looking into her eyes, he clenched his jaw before jerking her head to the side, seeing her wince in pain before she reopened her eyes to look at him with indignation on her features.

“Answer me,” he said a little louder, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Do I have you?”

“You could,” she whispered, not willing to give him more than that.

Apparently not satisfied with the answer, Spike nearly growled, bending lower to viciously bite the sensitive flesh of her throat.

Buffy’s eyes widened in shock seconds before her climax spiraled through her body. Screaming as stars seemed to burst in front of her eyes, she breathed heavily, her hips still moving with his until she wasn’t sure whether she was in agony or ecstasy.

Gritting her teeth when he pulled away and everything seemed to come back to her, Buffy soon realized she’d had enough. Angrily shoving his chest, she briefly closed her eyes when she caught him by surprise, causing him to roll off of her and separate himself from her body. Moving before he had a chance, she grasped his wrists in a strong grip, pinning them above his head as she straddled his waist.

Feeling his cock gently moving against her entrance, seeking her out, she slowly rolled her hips until he was inside of her once again.

“Is this what you want?” she asked, letting her anger win out, still scared and unsure of what was happening between them. “Does this make you feel good, Spike?”

She could see the same confusion mirrored in his eyes. Letting go of his wrists, she tried to fight the tears in her eyes.

“Who do you want, Spike?”

“You,” he rasped, gripping her hips in a firm hold.

“Me?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Do you want me…or am I just an available body?”

“You,” he repeated, a desperate note in his tone. Reaching up, he firmly grabbed her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

“Who are you?” she whispered, feeling the tears stinging her eyes, wishing that he would tell her everything she wanted to know. Not just the truth. Everything.

“Yours,” he murmured, causing her to sit up, needing the distance in spite of the fact that they were still joined together.

“What do you want from m-me?” she asked in a shaky voice.

Sitting up, his arms banded around her body, pulling her as close to him as possible while he gently kissed her, running his hands along her back.

“Nothing,” he whispered, kissing the damaged skin of her throat, feeling remorse that he had caused that.

Moving more frantically against him, neither spoke, each getting lost in the feel of the other. Pulling Buffy close to him when she began trembling, he rhythmically pumped into her as her hips grinded against his.

“Come for me, love,” he whispered, feeling her hands grasp his shoulders, needing something to keep her grounded while she writhed on top of him.

Hearing the gasp that was ripped from her throat, he pulled back to watch her go over the edge, closing his eyes after a moment when her muscles clamped around him, causing him to pulse deep inside of her, clutching at her almost desperately.

Slowly coming down, Buffy gasped for air, trembling in his arms when he hesitantly lay down, pulling her with him.

Feeling the weight of what he’d just done, Spike closed his eyes, tangling a hand in her hair, trying to use her presence to keep calm. He could still feel her shaking against him, and it tore him apart to think that she might be scared of him.

Opening his mouth to speak, to apologize, to say anything, he stopped when he heard her soft voice.

“What happened, Spike?” she asked softly, unable to look into his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to distract himself, watching his hand glide along her skin. “I don’t know,” he whispered, seeing her uncertain gaze turn toward him. “Maybe I just wanted to prove that it was nothing,” he continued, his eyes widening when she sat up.

“You mean you wanted to prove that I was nothing,” she said, looking at him in disbelief.

“What? Buffy, no,” he said, shaking his head, breathing heavily when she swept her long hair away from her neck, showing him the ragged bite mark that he had just inflicted on her.

“Then what’s this?” she asked, tightening her lips when he avoided her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never meant to…”

Closing her eyes, Buffy rolled her shoulders, trying to work the tension out before coming to a decision. Slowly lowering her head back to his chest, she felt the sigh of relief that he exhaled, feeling her body against his once again.

“We’re okay?” he asked, looking at her with a hopeful expression.

“I think so,” she murmured, biting her lip as they lay in silence for a few more minutes, listening to the soft nighttime sounds coming from her window.

“Come over tomorrow night,” he whispered.

“What’s tomorrow?” she asked, feeling her breathing begin to return to normal as she ran her hand along his chest, cuddling closer to him.

“Business dinner,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “Incredibly dull- I’ll be ready to relax with my girl when it’s over.”

Looking up into his eyes for a long moment, Buffy seemed to study him before hesitantly nodding. “Okay,” she whispered, closing her eyes when he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly.





Thanks so much to: Cordykitten, Becky, Suzee, denise, BuffyandSpikeForever & everyone who originally reviewed this chapter!

Chapter 20 – Boiling Point


Walking into the mansion the next night, Buffy nervously adjusted the straps of the long, black halter dress, insuring that they covered up the swollen area on her neck that Spike had inflicted on her the night before.

For the first time in weeks, she felt uncomfortable around him, and that made her more nervous than she cared to admit. The foreign feel of the gun strapped to her thigh, that had once seemed so familiar, was now a welcome distraction as she walked through the house.

“There she is,” Spike said with a bright smile, standing up to greet her, obviously putting on a show for the men who were sitting around the table. “Right on time, as always.”

Walking over to her, he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, letting his hand brush along her back. “Buffy Summers, allow me to introduce you to some of my business associates. This is Robin Wood, Lindsey McDonald, Caleb Parson, Daniel Clement, called Clem, and of course you already know Gunn.”

Offering a polite hello to everyone in the room, Buffy allowed Spike to guide her to her seat, leaning over to brush another kiss to her cheek. “Beautiful dress,” he breathed, admiring her cleavage from his standpoint before straightening and taking a seat next to her.

Buffy remained unaffected by the looks she was generating from some of the men, trying to focus on why she was there in the first place.

Listening to the men chat about Spike’s company while dinner was served, she ate in silence. Turning around in surprise when the dishes were cleared less than an hour later and the doors were locked, she looked around the room in confusion.

“Alright, gentleman,” Spike said, leaning back in his chair when everyone was sitting at the table once more. “The focus is on O’Neill.”

Buffy’s eyes nearly shot over to look at him in shock before carefully hiding her surprise.

“Anyone know where Hamilton is?” he asked, looking around the table.

“Angelus sent him to New York. Scouting something out there,” Lindsey said, idly playing with a pen as he looked Buffy up and down from his spot at the table.

Spike adjusted his tie as he stood up, slowly nodding. “Easy enough,” he said, picking up a large, flat object, wrapped in brown paper. “As you all know, I want him out of the picture. Easiest way to eliminate Hamilton is when he’s not around Angelus. So we need something that will ensure that… bait,” he continued, flipping open a switchblade and cutting the paper with ease, revealing a Renoir beneath.

A stolen Renoir.

Buffy closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as her emotions began to take over.

‘Stay cool, Summers,’ she told herself as Spike carelessly tossed the painting onto the table with a cold smile.

“I think that oughtta do it.”

* * * * *

Pacing through the large living room less than an hour later, Buffy tried to regulate her breathing. Spike had asked her to step out for a moment, needing to talk about something with his employees. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what they were discussing.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the antique mirror on the wall, she pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to work through the situation.

‘How did I get here?’ she asked, gritting her teeth as she looked at the door. ‘How could I possibly put myself in this situation?’

Needing to do something, her gaze turned to the locked cabinet in the corner of the room. Not thinking about her actions, she quickly crossed the room, pulling a bobby pin out of her hair as she knelt in front of the cabinet, easily picking the lock and opening the small door. Picking up the folder that was sitting inside, Buffy stood up, opening the file.

Seeing what she expected and never hoped to see, she briefly closed her eyes, only to reopen them and look at the papers and photos in front of her.

Surveillance pictures of her house- of her walking out to her car, fixing dinner, changing clothes. Buffy suddenly felt sick. Flipping through the file, she saw scribbled notes from Ethan Rayne, realizing his purpose in Spike’s life, and the nauseated feeling hit her full force. Covering her mouth with one hand, she continued to look through the file, seeing records and pictures from high school and college, phone records, receipts… her most intimate moments with Spike.

Her life.

Hearing the door open behind her, she slowly closed the file, never turning around as Spike’s footsteps could be heard walking through the room.

Looking up in time to see him standing behind the bar, pouring himself a drink, she felt rage flow through her. Walking over to him, she angrily threw the file down on the flat surface of the bar.

“Work, huh?” she asked, nearly shaking as her anger grew.

Hearing her voice, he slowly turned toward her, holding his glass so hard, he was surprised it didn’t shatter with the pressure.

“What did you expect, Buffy? That I would keep incriminating evidence in every corner of my home? Not bloody likely.”

“What was tonight?”

“A way for me to show you off,” he replied with a wicked smile.

“So, that’s what I am now, Spike?” she asked, every nerve on edge, her body practically exploding with tension. “Just the dirty little secret you keep on the side? Just your whore?”

“I never said that!” he yelled, throwing the glass in her direction, causing her to cower when it flew over her shoulder, shattering on the wall behind her.

So preoccupied with the glass, she never noticed when Spike crossed the room to throw her against the wall, pinning her against it, his body pressed intimately against hers.

“Don’t pretend that what we have is meaningless,” he said in a low whisper.

“What we have? You’re the one who’s been keeping surveillance on me twenty-four hours a day and doing background checks. You’re trying to tell me that I actually mean something to you?” she cried in disbelief, angrily shoving him away, sending him stumbling back several paces, giving Buffy the chance to get around him and move to the center of the room, needing the distance. “I’m nothing to you. You would sooner kill me than love me.”

“Is that a fact?” he asked in such a cold voice, she felt a sharp tremor of fear pass through her that she had never experienced when he took a menacing step forward. “Care to test that theory?”

Reflexively pulling her gun from beneath her dress, she leveled it on him with a cold glare, seeing the brief shock and surprise on his face. Her eyes widened when he pulled a gun out with lightening quick speed, aiming it at her stomach.

Locked into a battle of wills, Buffy was the first to break.

“You’re not shooting to kill,” she said with a clenched jaw, never taking her eyes off his.

“Not yet,” he said in a deadly tone. “So tell me, love. What’s the plan?”

“Plan?” she asked, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.

“The Feds. When are they planning to bust down my door?”

Feeling the air sucked out of her, Buffy’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Spike. “You know?” she asked in disbelief.

“That you were sent to spy on me? Yeah, Goldilocks. Figured that out. What I can’t figure out is how far you were willing to go for the sake of your job. Was fucking me all part of your strive for a promotion?”

“Last night…”

“Yeah,” he said through clenched teeth. “I knew. Wanted to test you…wanted to see how far you would go in the name of your job,” he said, practically spitting out the words. “And guess what, pet? You go pretty damn far. I’ve seen whores who aren’t as good at their profession as you are. You missed your calling, lamb.”

“Don’t,” she said in a cold voice, trying to shut off her emotions.

“Don’t what?” Spike taunted, raising his eyebrows as he gave her a challenging look. “Don’t let you know the truth about yourself? That you sold yourself out for a nice badge?”

“It’s not like that,” she whispered, her resolve cracking as she looked at him, seeing the disbelief in his gaze.

“Then what was it like, Buffy?” he asked, noticing her eyes watching his gun as it slowly began moving higher, raising with his temper.

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Or maybe it’s that I would understand a little too well, is that it?”

Staying quiet, Buffy swallowed, her finger tightening on the trigger.

“Get out,” Spike growled.

“I can’t,” she whispered, staring into his eyes.

“Why’s that? You need to do your job? Or you want a goodbye fuck?”

“Spike…”

The sound of her own breathless voice nearly had her turning around to look for the foreign sound, not realizing that it was her.

“If that’s what you want, I can easily accommodate you,” he said in a degrading tone. “Up against the wall?” he asked, gesturing with the gun before leveling it on her again. “The chair? On the bar? Your choice, Buffy.”

“Don’t do this,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t demean what we-”

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he said in an even tone. “Unless you’re planning on leaving in a body-bag,” he growled, his gun now aiming at her chest.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why stick around? You’re gonna kill me? Try it.”

Pressing her lips in a firm line, Buffy tried to ignore the doubt that was making itself known. She had never questioned her job or her duty in her years with the Bureau, and here she was with a gun trained on a man she was supposed to hate, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to pull that trigger.

“Let me tell you a little something about yourself, Agent Summers. You don’t know shit about me. You’re terrified to go against what you know might be right because it will endanger the life that you’ve painted for yourself.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” she said, clutching the gun in her hand.

“You know I don’t deserve whatever they’re planning,” Spike continued in a low voice. “You know it, Buffy.”

“You’re a murderer,” she said in a sharp whisper, clinging to the one fact that she knew to be true.

“And you aren’t?” he challenged, eyeing the gun that was trained on his heart.

“That’s different.”

“Why? Because you’re ordered to kill people and I’m the one who gives the orders? We go after the same people, Buffy, even if it’s for different reasons.”

Opening her mouth to reply, she quickly stopped, hearing the sound of Spike’s employees approaching.

Clenching his jaw for a moment, Spike risked a look to the door before looking at Buffy. Slowly lowering his gun, he kept a careful eye on her. “Get out,” he whispered, seeing her falter for a moment.

“You know I can’t do that,” she said softly, shaking her head.

“Put down the gun,” he said in a commanding tone.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy briefly closed her eyes, gasping when she felt his hand encircle her wrist, twisting her arm at an angle until she was pulled against his body. Trembling when his lips gently brushed along her throat, she stayed still, trying to relax when the door opened.

Spike slowly raised his eyes to the door, glaring at the men as if they’d interrupted something completely different. “Out.”

“We just wanted to check on you, sir. We heard… something,” Gunn said, studying the two of them before his eyes settled on the shattered glass on the floor.

Carefully keeping the guns concealed from their view in the folds of Buffy’s dress, Spike raised an eyebrow at his men. “As you can see, we’re fine. Get out.”

Waiting until the door was firmly shut behind them, he jerked the gun out of her grasp, pushing Buffy away.

“That goes for you, as well,” he said with a cold look.

“Spike…”

“Get out,” he growled, narrowing his eyes on her as his hand tightened on the gun. “I won’t tell you again.”

Risking a glance at the door, Buffy hesitantly met his cold gaze. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you know.”

“Thought it was supposed to be exactly like this, Agent.”

Bravely turning her back on him, Buffy walked toward the door, half-expecting a bullet in the back, mildly surprised when she reached for the doorknob without incident. Taking a deep breath, she glanced over her shoulder, seeing Spike standing in the same position, staring at the floor.

“Spike-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, never looking at her. “I don’t want to see you.”

Buffy looked at the floor for a moment before slowly nodding as she opened the door. “Then you won’t.”






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Chapter 21 – Fragile Allusions


Sitting in the darkened room, Spike never looked up when a sliver of light slid along the floor as the door opened.

“Leave,” he said, his voice escaping the shadows and causing Ethan to pause as he entered the room.

“I know this isn’t the way you wanted-”

“Don’t need a bleedin’ pep talk, Ethan. Get out.”

“You’ve been locked in here for days.”

“And when I need something, I’ll let you know,” he growled, never turning around, waiting until the light was extinguished before taking another long drink from the bottle of alcohol in his hand, trying to stop the flood of memories. Trying to forget the image of her face. Trying to forget the feeling of his heart breaking when he found out who she really was.

“We found something,” Ethan said, nervously fidgeting with the folder in his hands.

“Found something on who?” Spike asked, walking into the hotel room, casting a quick glance at the view of the Philadelphia skyline.

“Your lover girl,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he tapped the file against his hand. “Or more accurately… her mother.”

Not wanting to look at the information, Spike walked over to the bar, pouring himself a tall drink. “Alright,” he said after taking a long swallow, never looking away from a point on the wall, listening to Ethan pull some papers out of the folder.

“Joyce Robertson, married once to Hank Summers, divorced seventeen years later. She had one daughter- Elizabeth Summers.”

Taking another drink, Spike finally turned to look at the man behind him. “So Buffy is a nickname,” he said with a shrug, feeling relieved that it wasn’t something more serious.

“Elizabeth Summers… she’s not an art dealer, Spike,” he said with a sigh, wishing that he could have relayed the information over the phone. “She’s an FBI agent.”

Shattering the crystal glass in his hand, Spike didn’t notice as the pieces fell to the floor, his gaze unfocused, his breathing shallow.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Ethan said, walking toward the door.

“Abort the plan,” Spike said, his voice a low whisper. “Get the plane ready.”

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea to go after a federal agent, Spike.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Closing his eyes at the memories, he took a deep breath. Trying not to think about how he’d told her he loved her. How he confessed who he really was moments before he left for Philadelphia, only to have any fragile allusions of a dream with her shattered when Ethan showed up.

Angrily throwing his head back against his chair, he fought the tears in his eyes, hating the weak side that she seemed to bring out in him.

“Buffy…”

* * * * *

“Give me my next assignment, Giles,” she said, her voice coming out stronger than she intended as she followed her boss through the building, the tone of her voice causing him to turn around and look at her.

“You’re not ready,” he said before turning and walking into his office.

“Bullshit!” Buffy cried, following him through the door and slamming it behind her, knowing that she was walking on thin ice. “I’m ready. I’ve had a few days off and I’m fine. It was a glitch- all fixed now,” she finished, forcing a chipper tone.

“Buffy, you fell in love with a criminal. A criminal that we now don’t have enough hard evidence to arrest or even detain for a short period of time. You need a break.”

“It was a game,” she said, swallowing as she tried to convince herself of that fact. “It was all an act. I’m better now- I mean, look at me,” she continued, holding her arms out to her sides. “Betty's ready. Color me committed.”

Studying her for a minute, Giles finally sighed. “Alright,” he said in exasperation. “Xander and his team are working to take down Warren Meers in the near future.”

“The jewelry thief?”

“That’s him,” he said with a nod. “There will be an operation tomorrow night at the restaurant inside of the Sunnydale Museum.”

“But… he’s a jewelry thief,” Buffy repeated in confusion. “What does he want in a museum?”

“One of the largest diamonds in the country that is currently on display,” he replied, tossing a brochure in front of her that displayed the attraction.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said with a smirk. “He actually thinks he’s gonna swipe that thing?”

“He’s extremely cocky. With any luck, that will be his downfall.”

“Count me in,” Buffy said, walking toward the door.

“Buffy-”

“I’m doing this, Giles,” she said firmly, looking him in the eyes.

Closing the door behind her, she walked through the building until she reached the small office at the end of a hall. Knocking on it as she opened the door, she leaned against the doorframe. “Hey, Xand. Just thought I’d let you know that I’m helping tomorrow.”

“Already?” Xander asked in surprise. “I thought you’d want a little more time off.”

“I didn’t want any time off,” she corrected. “I’m ready for a little more hands-on action.”

“Can’t get much more ‘hands-on’ than Spike Reed,” he muttered, shuffling through some files on his desk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, a hard edge to her voice.

Looking up from the paper he was reading, Xander gave her a concerned look. “Nothing, Buff. Just meant that Spike has a violent reputation- you probably had your work cut out for you.”

“Spike never laid a hand on me, Xander,” she said in a low voice, looking at the floor, trying to forget the image of him pointing a gun at her. “What’s going on tomorrow?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Everything is pretty much in place. Faith is going to act as… ‘bait’, if you will. You can go as her backup. If she has to blow her cover, for whatever reason, be ready to step in.”

“So basically I sit back and do nothing,” Buffy said with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

“Giles will be there,” Xander replied with a smile. “You can always talk to him.”

* * * * *

“Ethan!”

Practically stumbling out of the room later that night, Spike walked down the hall, blearily realizing that his head of security was standing in front of him.

“Where is she?”

“You’re not serious,” Ethan said in disbelief.

“Never been more serious, mate.”

“Spike, if you think you can just start a relationship with her or pick up where you left off…”

“Did I say I wanted her back?” he replied in a deadly tone. “Now… find out where she is.”





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Chapter 22 – Dancing With Death


“Giles, I can be more useful,” Buffy mumbled into her radio. “I can do something.”

Hearing the slight crackle of her earpiece, she rolled her eyes when she heard her boss’ voice as he smiled at her from across the room. “Just stand there and look pretty.”

“I’m not scenery.”

“Tonight you are. Just remember that you were the one who wanted to tag along. This is Xander’s operation.”

Growing frustrated as she watched Xander and Anya on the dance floor, fulfilling their ‘undercover’ part of the mission, even though it looked like a regular date, she continued to scan the room.

Tapping her foot as she waited for Meers to arrive, her gaze slowly traveled back to Giles before her eyes widened in shock when she saw Ethan Rayne approaching her boss.

Reaching for her earpiece to let Giles know, she gasped when she felt the tiny piece of equipment pulled from her ear and watched it drop into an abandoned wine glass nearby.

“Those things can be hazardous to your health, lamb.”

Trying to suppress the shiver that raced through her body at the sound of his husky voice, she took in a sharp breath when she felt the blade of a knife pressing against her lower back.

“Not as hazardous as you are,” she replied, never turning around to look at him.

“I’m touched,” Spike said, chuckling quietly to himself. The laughter soon faded as he pressed the knife more firmly against her skin. “And I’d be careful what you say,” he said, his voice dropping to a menacing level.

“Or what?” she asked, still staring straight ahead.

“Or your boss has an unfortunate accident.”

Focusing her gaze on Ethan and Giles, she swallowed hard. “Giles can take care of himself.”

* * * * *

“What the hell are you doing here, Ethan?” Giles asked as the other man sat down.

“Keeping you in line, Ripper, old pal,” he replied, slapping him on the back. “Making sure you don’t interfere.”

“With what?” he growled, seeing Ethan’s gaze redirected across the large room.

* * * * *

“You know,” Spike said slowly, admiring the curve of her neck as he leaned closer to her. “I could have danced all night with you.”

“You think we’re dancing?” Buffy countered, never looking at him.

“That’s all we’ve ever done,” he replied with a smirk in his tone. “So, what do you say? Care to dance, pet?”

Her shoulders tensed at the question.

“Or what?” she asked, cutting her eyes over to see his profile right next to her.

“Do you really want to find out?”

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching them, she quickly spun around, gripping his wrist in her hand, twisting it until she had more control.

“Yeah,” she replied, looking him in the eyes for the first time since she left his house. “I would like to find out.”

Biting his lip as he watched her, Spike smiled, looking her up and down. “Care to show me what you’ve got?” he said, tossing the knife on a nearby table and wrapping his free arm around her waist.

“You think you can take me?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Moving her onto the dance floor, Spike’s expression faded away to leave one of cold indifference as they began dancing to the soft music. “Already had you.”

Setting her lips in a firm line, Buffy angrily kicked his shin, giving him an innocent smile when he winced and glared at her. Seeing an elderly couple give them a questioning look, she offered them a ditzy smile. “I’m such a klutz,” she giggled, seeing them smile in return.

Turning back to face Spike, Buffy narrowed her eyes when he pulled her more fully against him as they moved around the floor.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, watching him carefully.

“Finishing what you started.”

“What I started?” she said indignantly. “I’m not the thief and the murderer.”

“Just a murderer,” he replied, looking over her shoulder as he spun her around.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? Too exposing?”

“Spike,” she said in a warning tone, glaring at him. “I never asked you to come here. I gave you plenty of opportunities to walk away from me… long before you actually made me walk away.”

“Am I supposed to say ‘thank you’?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on her.

“Wouldn’t hurt,” she replied, raising an eyebrow as his expression darkened.

Keeping up with him as he led her around the floor, Spike separated long enough to spin her around, watching the royal blue silk of her dress flair out, only to settle around her legs once again.

“How long was it going to go on?” he asked angrily, unable to bring himself to look at her. “Until you arrested me? Or were you waiting to try and kill me?”

Pulling back to look at him with wide eyes, Buffy shook her head. “I never…”

“You weave this intricate plot and then abandon it,” he said in amusement as he changed the subject. “Must be awfully frustrating for your employer.”

“Who says we’ve abandoned it?” she asked, taking a small amount of pleasure in the way his eyes snapped over to hers.

Slowly smiling, Spike bit his lip, studying her as they continued to move around the dance floor. “So I can expect another sex-toy to be at my beck and call?”

“Spike… don’t,” she whispered, hating the emotions that were coursing through her. Rapidly blinking back the tears, she leveled him with a cold look. “You’re the one who said ‘I love you’ first.”

“You know how many times I’ve said that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as they paused, staring at each other. “Dozens.”

“Funny,” Buffy replied, gracefully keeping her balance when he spun her around, pulling her more forcefully against him in the process. “I was going to say the same thing.”

Seeing his jaw clench in response, she gave him a cold smile as he rapidly backed her up, wincing when her head cracked against the nearby wall. Glaring at him for a moment, she slowly looked over Spike’s shoulder. Seeing Giles readying himself for stepping in and handling Spike, she gave the older man a look, subtly shaking her head before turning her attention back to the man who was holding her.

“What next?” she asked, slamming the heel of her foot into his shoe, seeing him wince as she used her leverage to push him back, resuming the vicious dance. Gasping when he spun her around, Buffy felt her heart begin to race when his hand immediately grabbed her hip in a harsh grip, his other hand still holding onto hers as they danced with her back against his chest.

“Look at them,” he said, gesturing toward Ethan and Giles. “Are they really so different?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” she asked, clenching her jaw when his hold on her tightened.

“They’re the same as you and me,” he continued, thrown off balance when Buffy threw her elbow into his stomach and spun around, catching his hand and shoulder to continue the dance.

“What are you saying? I should set up my boss with your… whatever he is?” she asked with a slight smile. “Sorry, I wouldn’t subject anyone to Ethan.”

Ignoring the statement, Spike looked her up and down, admiring the skin that was exposed.

“Thought you were undercover, love,” he said, taking in the tiny straps and sweetheart neckline of her dress. “Shouldn’t you be a little more discreet?”

“Worked with you,” she replied, not looking away when his eyes narrowed.

“Maybe I like the flashier girls,” he said, keeping an indifferent expression on his face. “But only to see how good they are between the sheets.”

Gripping his shoulder until her fingernails were digging into the skin, she gave him a sweetly contradicting smile. “I guess that little tip could work in my favor, in the future.”

Realizing what she was saying, Spike glared at her for a moment, moving her around the floor. Seeing her look toward the doorway, he turned in time to see Warren Meers walk in with a woman on his arm. “And there’s the mark,” he said, turning back to her to see the shocked look on her face. “Tell me, pet… how many weapons do you have on you right now?”

“Why do you care?” she asked, seeing him smile slightly.

“That many?” he asked in amusement, slowing down with her and dipping her slightly. Buffy’s eyes widened when his lips brushed against her neck as his hand ghosted along her thigh, feeling the sheath for her gun. “One,” he whispered, seeing her clench her jaw when his hand moved high, outlining the case for the knife close to her hip. “Two,” he breathed, pulling her upright, moving her until she was pressed against his body, his mouth near her ear. “I’m guessing another gun on the other leg,” he whispered, still holding her close with one of his hands holding hers against his chest. “Anything else?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, finally relaxing slightly as she pulled away from him with a smirk. Taking a step back, Buffy glanced at Giles, seeing his gaze alternating between her and Meers. Turning back to Spike, she stared at him for a moment, seeing the indecision in his eyes. “You know what I was assigned to do,” she said softly. “I’m warning you, Spike… please don’t come near me again. You know who I am.”

Grabbing her hand, he spun her around, admiring her skirt as it flowed around her before pulling her against his body again. “And you’ve always known who I was. That didn’t change anything.”

“What do you want from me?” she whispered in a pleading tone.

Unable to answer her, Spike continued to look into her eyes, elegantly leading her around the dance floor.

* * * * *

“I don’t think it’s me you’ll have to worry about,” Ethan replied, gesturing to the dance floor where the handsome couple was now locked in a staring contest. Sparks seemed to shoot from them as their gazes burned into each other. “Seems your girl got a little too involved in her job.”

“Shut up, Ethan.”

* * * * *

“That's not your world,” Spike said in a husky whisper. “You belong in the shadows… with me.” The two of them continued to move in a more sensual dance as Spike continued, “Tell me… you don't love getting away with this…”

Visibly trembling as she pulled away from him, Buffy didn’t say anything as she turned and ran out of the building.






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Chapter 23 – Fighting Back


Storming through the halls of the building on Monday morning, Buffy slammed the door behind her, leaving her stunned boss to stare at her as he paused from taking aim at the computerized images on the screen in front of him.

“I want Angelus.”

“Excuse me?” Giles asked, taking off his glasses to look at her as she walked forward and picked up one of the fake guns, taking aim at one of the targets.

“You heard me,” she replied, determined to put Spike Reed behind her, once and for all, as she pulled the trigger, hitting the computerized man directly in the heart, giving the screen a smug look as he fell over. “I want to go after Angelus. I was the original one on the case- I want to go.”

“Buffy-”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it, Giles. I couldn’t get Spike, and I couldn’t even help to bring in Meers the other night, but I will get Angelus.”

“I wasn’t going to try and talk you out of it,” Giles said, leaning against the wall as she looked over at him. “I know you, Buffy, and even though I think you need a little more of a break, you’re the best one for the job.”

“You were going to give me the case?” she asked, slightly stunned that they were on the same wavelength.

“There are a few conditions,” he continued.

“Okay…”

“You wear a live transmitter, we know where you are at all times, and you are always armed.”

“Alright,” she said, nodding as she turned back to the screen. Taking aim and hitting one of the men in the head, she could feel the adrenaline fading away from her grasp as she continued, “There’s only one little problem that I can’t work out.”

“Such as?”

“I know that I asked for this, and it’s not that I mind doing another undercover assignment, but what are the odds that Angelus and Spike…”

She trailed off, not knowing what to say about the subject since she was the one to bring it up in the first place.

“I know your concerns, Buffy, and I don’t think that they will be a problem. The two of them don’t exactly run in the same circles. But if you feel more comfortable with me assigning someone else to the case, it’s up to you.”

Looking down for a moment, she had a silent debate with herself, rolling her shoulders in irritation before raising the gun and firing at the animated targets.

Giles involuntarily winced when he saw that she hit the computerized man in the crotch.

“I’ll do it,” she said, nodding her head as she turned back to him. “Where is he?”

“Chicago… for the moment.”

“What’s the plan?”

“The same as the original,” Giles said, waiting until Buffy nodded before he walked away.

Slowly nodding, Buffy looked at her boss, taking a deep breath. “I can live with that… when do I leave?”

“How soon can you pack?”

* * * * *

“My flight’s in three hours,” Buffy said, using her shoulder to hold her phone to her ear while she threw a suitcase into the trunk of her car.

“Alright,” Giles said from the other end. “Everything is set up. There will be a colleague of mine who will meet you at your hotel. His name is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.”

“British?” she asked, walking into her house to get the rest of her luggage.

“Yes,” he replied, listening as Buffy chuckled into the phone.

“You know, with all of you British guys in the Bureau, you’d think Scotland Yard would be calling, wanting some of you to come home.”

“Very funny,” Giles said dryly. “Now, you have everything you need?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, picking up her carry-on bag.

“What’s wrong?”

“Giles, I… I don’t know how Spike found out about me. What if Angelus has the same good fortune?”

“Buffy, with any luck, Angelus will be locked up within a month.”

“Luck hasn’t been with me,” she muttered, taking a deep breath.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Positive,” she said, forcing the appropriate amount of cheerfulness into her voice. “I better get going. I’ll talk to you when I land.”

“Alright… and Buffy?”

“Yeah, Giles?”

“Be careful.”

“You know me.”

“And that’s why I’m telling you.”

Smiling softly to herself, Buffy took a deep breath. “I can do this.”

“I know you can. Have a good trip.”

“Thanks, Giles.”

Closing the phone to disconnect the call, Buffy hoisted her carry-on higher onto her shoulder as she picked up the case with her laptop. Checking the house once more, she walked out of the front door, locking it behind her.

“Well, well.”

‘Oh God, not now.’

Turning toward the sound of the voice, Buffy visibly paled when she saw Spike standing behind her.

“What do you want now?” she asked through gritted teeth, unsure of why he was there. Their last interaction, he seemed ready to forgive and forget- or at the very least, turn her away from her career and toward more sinister goals.

“Can’t a bloke just stop by and say hello?” he replied, slowly walking up the steps of the porch.

Narrowing her eyes to look at him, Buffy was suddenly wishing that she hadn’t taken a late flight. The shadows of the porch covered both of them, keeping their expressions a secret.

“We’re not friends,” she muttered, pushing past him to walk to her car.

“Didn’t say we were.”

Giving little disregard to her bags, she threw them in her trunk, spinning around to face him, wishing that she could see his eyes as he followed her. “The last two times you’ve seen me, you’ve threatened to kill me or hurt someone I care about,” she said angrily. “And I’m supposed to think you just dropped by to chat?”

“Maybe,” he replied in an infuriatingly calm tone.

Slamming the trunk, she irritably pushed him away, reaching for the door handle. Gritting her teeth when his hand slammed against the door, preventing her from opening it, she spun around to face him. Feeling her stomach clench when he leaned in close to her, Buffy nearly closed her eyes, forgetting that she couldn’t trust him.

“I have to go,” she said in a strong voice.

“Where?”

Tilting her head to study him for a moment, Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Away from here.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Really?” she asked sarcastically. “Sounded like one to me.”

Shoving him back, Buffy was mildly surprised when she found herself pressed against the car.

“Let go of me,” she said, trying to shake his hands off of her arms.

“Is that really what you want?” he asked, giving her a cold smile.

Freeing one arm, Buffy quickly slammed her fist into his nose, sending him reeling back with the power of the punch. Looking at her in shock for a moment, his expression soon darkened before he backhanded her.

Letting the force of the blow guide her movements, she retaliated, kicking him in the knee. Standing up straight, Buffy glared at him, bringing her hand up to her jaw, gingerly touching it until she winced.

Realizing what happened, Spike’s eyes widened. “Buffy, I-”

“Don’t,” she interrupted in a hard voice. “Don’t even try to make excuses. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” she asked, breathing heavily. “What are you waiting for?”

Smashing her fist into his jaw, Buffy saw the shock on his face turn to anger.

“Fight back,” she said in a harsh whisper. Hitting him again, her voice rose, “Fight back!”

Slamming her against the car, Spike tried to control her as she wrestled her arms away, hitting him in the chest. Fighting the tears in her eyes, she continued her assault on him, punching his chest and arms until he was forced to move away.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, staring at her while she tried to catch her breath.

Looking at him for a long moment, Buffy didn’t say anything.

“Then give it to me,” he said, raising an eyebrow when she didn’t move. Advancing on her, he placed his hands on the car to each side of her. “Give it to me.”

Avoiding his eyes, Buffy turned away from his penetrating gaze.

“Do you miss me, Buffy?” Spike asked with a slight smile.

“If I say no, will you have me killed?” she replied, looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

“If you say no, I won’t believe you.”

“Then why ask?”

“Curiosity,” he said after a moment.

“No,” she said, gritting her teeth around the word. “I don’t miss you. How could I? You’re beneath me.”

Seeing what she’d wanted all along, the sight of Spike’s features darkening was enough to send a tremor of fear through her.

Grabbing her shoulders in a harsh grip, Spike shook her, slamming her back against the car so hard that her teeth chattered.

“Beneath you,” he growled, thrusting his growing erection against her stomach as he swept the hair away from her neck, exposing the scar of his bite mark that remained before leaning close. “How ‘bout I get you beneath me?” he said in a menacing whisper, his lips closing over the scar.

Buffy struggled in his arms for a moment, and realizing that she was fighting a losing battle, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Bringing his lips to hers for a brutal kiss, she practically jumped into his arms, craving his touch.

Reaching between them after a moment, Buffy massaged the growing bulge in his pants, hearing him growl against her lips in response. Squeezing her eyes shut as if she was in pain, she slowly pulled away. “Can’t,” she said breathlessly. “Someone might see…”

“Let them see,” Spike said in a low voice, crushing his lips to hers again, reaching beneath her skirt and gently rubbing the damp material of her thong.

Breathing heavily, Buffy clutched at his shoulders, thrusting her hips against his hand, eagerly seeking his touch.

“Spike,” she whispered, becoming lightheaded as he unzipped his pants, brushing her thong out of the way.

Feeling him at her entrance, Buffy whimpered, dropping her head to his shoulder as she clung to him.

Pushing into her slowly, Spike carefully avoided any chance for eye contact, refusing to acknowledge who was in his arms. Neither made a move to kiss as they moved together, each staying detached from the moment.

Pumping into her until the car that she was pressed against was rocking back and forth, Spike’s hold tightened on her arms, nearly bruising her with the force he was holding her. Feeling her muscles clamp around him as she cried out, he followed her over the edge, pressing his forehead against the crook of her neck, squeezing her until she was whimpering in pain.

Quickly letting go, Spike eased her to the ground, unsure of what just happened between them as he looked away, trying to catch his breath.

Each straightened their clothes as an awkward silence settled over them.

Looking around for a moment, Buffy halfheartedly cleared her throat. “I… I need to go,” she said, her voice a strained whisper.

Spike’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her, feeling the need to dismiss her as easily as she was obviously dismissing him. “Fine with me, pet. Got what I wanted.”

Buffy fought the tears in her eyes as Spike turned and walked to his car that was parked in front of the house, never looking at her as he started the engine.

Looking at the ground, Buffy finally let a few tears spill free, quickly wiping them away. She never looked up to see Spike watching her before he drove away.

* * * * *

Standing in his office later that night, Spike stared unseeingly out of the window, hating himself for what he’d said to her and frustrated that he was having second thoughts of hurting a woman’s feelings who was assigned to arrest him.

“Are you alright?”

Turning his head slightly to see Ethan standing in the doorway, Spike stayed quiet as he took a drink of scotch.

“I know this girl was a challenge for you, but you need to move on.”

“What do they have planned for her, Ethan?” he asked, never looking up from his drink.

“Spike, I don’t think it’s a good idea to continually get involved-”

“Tell me!” he yelled, spinning around to face him.

“It’s not as if it’s an easy task, finding out what FBI agents are doing with their time on the job. The most I can tell you is that she’s scheduled to be at the Chicago art gallery that’s opening next weekend.”

Looking at Ethan for a long moment, Spike took a deep breath, trying to control himself as everything seemed to spin out of control. “The same opening that Angelus is scheduled for?”

“The one and only.”

Gritting his teeth as he looked at the floor, Spike slowly nodded. “Looks like we’re going to Chicago.”





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Chapter 24 – Forgetting the Unforgettable


Keeping an eye out for Angelus, Buffy idly admired the art that was displayed throughout the museum. Frustrated that she didn’t have an earpiece to hear what the other agents might have known about the situation, she raised her champagne glass to her lips. “No sign of him,” she murmured into the microscopic microphone in her bracelet. Taking a sip from her glass, she stared at the contemporary piece of art.

Turning around to view a different painting, Buffy froze when she saw Spike with a striking woman across the room.

“Oh my God,” she murmured, feeling sickened at the site of him laughing and talking with another woman.

Nearly trembling as she fought the tears in her eyes, Buffy turned and walked into a different room, searching for the restroom, hoping to hide and get her thoughts in order.

Remembering her original intention for being at the museum, she brought the glass up to her lips again. “The plan has been compromised. Abort for the night.”

Turning off the feed, she began searching the room for the nearest exit.

“Lookie lookie what I found.”

Tensing at the smug voice behind her that sent Buffy in a déjà vu tailspin, she slowly turned around, glaring at Spike.

“Fancy meeting you here, pet. On another undercover assignment?” he asked, looking around the room before motioning to his date to stay where she was.

“What are you doing here, Spike?” she asked, gripping her glass, trying to refrain from throwing her drink in his face.

“What does it look like?” he replied, gesturing around the building. “Looking at the priceless pieces of art that the good people of the museum are so happy to show us.”

Rolling her eyes at the sarcasm, Buffy slowly turned toward him, setting her glass down on a table as she offered him a blinding smile. “Well, it’s been so nice talking to you,” she said, the hostility practically dripping from her sweet tone of voice. “But if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll have more fun jumping under a bus.”

Turning to walk away, knowing that the plan would be blown to hell if Angelus saw her talking to Spike, she groaned when he fell into step beside her.

“Leave me alone, Spike. I’m not asking.”

“Oh, it’s an order, then, is it?” he replied, grabbing her elbow in a bruising hold, jerking her down a hallway and into a storage room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked, pulling her arm out of his grasp.

“What are you doing here, Buffy?” he asked, his voice taking on a serious tone as he looked at her.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“What are you doing here?” he repeated in a low voice.

“None of your business,” she replied, moving to walk around him. Eyes widening in indignation when he slammed his hands to the wall on either side of her, blocking her in, Buffy turned toward him, clenching her jaw in frustration. “Move,” she whispered, the sparks practically shooting from her eyes.

“Or what?”

“Do you really want to test that?” she asked softly, taking a deep breath to control her emotions.

“Maybe I do,” he murmured, looking her up and down.

Raising an eyebrow and giving a slight shrug, she easily threw a punch at his jaw, more to prove a point than to cause any damage as his head reeled to the side. Buffy swallowed, seeing the rage on his face when he turned toward her.

Knowing that she would never be able to beat him in a fair fight- and not having anything to use as a blunt weapon for an unfair fight- she decided to do the one thing she knew she could do to win.

“You wanna hit me?” she asked softly, seeing his eyes darken even more. “Do it.”

The words seemed to make the situation more real, causing Spike to pause in whatever retaliation he was considering.

“Come on, Spike,” she murmured, looking up at him with a gaze that once held so much hope for him. “You think I deserve it… hit me.”

Seeing him falter, her shoulders nearly sagged in relief seconds before he grabbed her arms, shoving her more forcefully into the wall. Wincing when the back of her head hit the flat surface, she looked up at him with a glare.

“I’m not asking again,” he growled. “What are you doing here?”

“None of your business,” she said, gritting her teeth to shove him out of the way. She gasped when he pinned her more forcefully to the wall, his entire body pressing against hers.

“Is it Angelus?” he asked, dropping the mask for a moment, showing his true concern for her.

“Spike, don’t ask me this,” she whispered, shaking her head to avoid looking at him.

“Stay away from him, Buffy,” he said in a warning tone. “It’s not worth getting yourself killed to try and catch him.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, struggling against him, her eyes widening when she realized the effect that her movements had on him.

Closing her eyes to catch her breath for a moment, she was shocked to reopen them and see Spike’s worried gaze in front of her. “Is it the same operation you tried to pull on me?” he asked, tilting his head, closing off his emotions to her.

“Spike…”

“Tell me, Buffy.”

“I don’t know,” she cried, trembling against him as her overwrought emotions found an outlet. “I don’t know anymore…I don’t know what I’m doing or how everything just got so off-track. All I know is…”

She trailed off, looking into his eyes for a moment, seeing her mirrored emotions in his gaze and allowing herself to forget about everything one last time.

“…All I know is that I miss you so much,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes when he let go of her arms and took a step back, shocked at her words.

“Don’t do this,” he said, a hard edge in his voice. “Don’t try and play this game again- I’m not falling for it.”

Blinking back the tears as she took in a shaky breath, looking at the floor, Buffy nervously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, silently composing herself.

“Right,” she said softly, nodding as she tried to calm herself down. “I forgot… You already got what you wanted, right?” Not giving him a chance to respond, she shook her head. “I have a job to do,” she whispered, walking toward the door, stopping when she felt his hand on her arm.

“Was that all I was?” he asked. “A job?”

Her stomach tightened as she looked up at him, seeing the need in his eyes. Not thinking about the consequences of her actions, she stepped closer to him, her hands pulling him down to her for a passionate kiss.

Stunned for a moment, Spike tried to fight every instinct he had, finally giving in as he lifted her into his arms. Pinning her against the wall for a second time, his hand moved up to her face, stroking the soft skin of her cheek while her hands threaded through his hair, holding him close to her. Feeling her tongue brush along his lip, he eagerly parted his lips, allowing her the access she obviously wanted.

Her body relaxed against his, letting everything fade into obscurity for a few moments. Moaning softly when Spike slowly separated from her, Buffy pressed her forehead to his, feeling his breath against her face as they both struggled for air.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” she whispered, almost talking to herself. “I wasn’t supposed to find someone and then…”

Trailing off as she fought the tears in her eyes, Buffy’s chin trembled.

Pulling back slightly, Spike cupped her face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes. “What was real?” he asked, needing to know her answer.

Staring up at him for a moment, Buffy tried to figure out the answer to that question.

“I was happy,” she finally whispered, closing her eyes against her emotions. “You made me forget… everything,” she said softly, trembling when she realized what she’d just said and where she was. Looking around the room, she took a deep breath. “But we were too different.”

“And we’re exactly the same,” Spike countered, staring at her until she turned back to look at him. “That’s why we fit.”

“I need to go,” she murmured, trying to pull away from him, stopping when he held her tight.

“It is Angelus, isn’t it?”

Not bothering to answer, she looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

“And are you going to let him help you ‘forget’?” he asked, a bitter note in his voice.

“Spike-”

“Answer me,” he said, clenching his jaw and gripping her arms.

“How can you even ask me that?” she whispered, finally managing to pull away from him. “Do you really think that what we had was for a job? That the other night was because I was getting information? It might have been what you were after, but for me… it was solace,” she said, letting a few tears slip free. “And if you think that I would…” Trailing off, she quickly walked toward the door, pausing long enough to turn around and look at him one last time. “You don’t know me at all.”





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Chapter 25 – Dangerous Love


Buffy nearly rolled her eyes as she walked into the lobby of the hotel and saw Wesley nervously pacing back and forth.

“Very low-key, Wes,” she said, walking past him toward the bank of elevators. “Let everyone know that you’re here and you’re obviously nervous about something.”

“You deviated from the plan, Bu- Liz,” he said, slipping into the name they had created for her for the job.

“I had to,” she said, angrily pressing the button for one of the elevators, taking out her aggression on it. “The situation was compromised.”

Walking into the elevator when it opened, she watched as Wesley followed her and hurriedly pushed the ‘door close’ button.

“You are to run all decisions through me before coming to a decision like that.”

“Give me a break, Sir,” she replied, trying to put enough respect in her voice to appease him. “I’ve been an agent long enough to know when something is dangerous, and trust me, that was dangerous.”

“What happened?” he finally asked, hearing the distant ping of the elevator doors opening.

“Spike was there,” she muttered under her breath, knowing that Wesley had caught her soft-spoken words when his head nearly snapped around to look at her.

“What?”

Quickly unlocking the door to her room, Buffy opened it wide enough to allow Wesley to enter, gesturing with her head. “In.”

Following closely behind him, she shut the door and immediately began pacing the room, trying to ignore the looks that Wesley was giving her. “It was too dangerous, Wes,” she finally said.

“I can understand that if William Reed made an appearance, it would be… difficult, at best, but I don’t see how you couldn’t just-”

“It’s more than that,” she interrupted, running her hands through her hair as she continued to walk around the room. “If Angelus had seen us, it would have compromised everything and… I’ll get another shot, Wesley. I promise.”

“I hope so,” he said, standing up. “I’ll call Giles and inform him. You need to get some rest.”

Buffy turned to look unseeingly out the window. Her mind not focused on what she was seeing, she fought the tears in her eyes. “I will later.”

“Buffy-”

“I need to work off some tension,” she said, stretching her arms to prove her point. “I’ll be down in the gym, if you need me.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Hearing the distant sound of the door closing, Buffy took a deep breath, trying to control her chaotic emotions. Seeing Spike earlier that night had pushed her toward her breaking point. She hadn’t been prepared for him to appear out of nowhere. With a date.

Changing into a pair of shorts and a tank top, Buffy grabbed her key and pulled the door shut behind her when she left the room. Walking toward the elevator, she was about to walk to the door of the stairs when she heard the chime announcing the elevators arrival.

Briefly turning toward it, her eyes widened when she saw Angelus O’Neill and Marcus Hamilton lost in a discussion. Redirecting herself, she quickly walked toward the elevator, purposely running into Angelus.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Buffy said, her eyes wide as her hand covered her mouth in faux shock.

Looking at who had just bumped into him, Angelus paused for a moment before a smile played on his lips. “That’s alright,” he said in a smooth voice. “No hard feelings, Miss…?”

“Robertson,” Buffy filled in, giving him her mother’s maiden name. “Liz Robertson.”

Feeling her smile slip away when he took her hand in his and left a gentle kiss on it, Buffy tried to play it off as if she was flattered by his attention, instead of attempting to pull away for self-preservation.

Buffy could tell immediately that this would be a completely different experience than the one she had with Spike. He was obviously looking for someone he could control and not someone who would challenge him. There was a look in his eyes that made him more sinister, almost warning her to keep her distance.

And she was determined not to fall in love with him.

“Marcus Hamilton, Liz Robertson,” Angelus made the introductions, his eyes never leaving Buffy.

“Nice to meet you,” Hamilton said in a curt tone, obviously not caring if he met her or not. “Angel, we need to leave if we’re going to meet-”

“I think I’ll be missing that tonight,” he replied, interrupting the other man.

“Angel,” Hamilton continued in an irritated voice.

“Give them my regrets,” Angel said, looking at the taller man. “I’ll be escorting Miss Robertson wherever she needs to go.”

Buffy giggled, nearly cringing at how fake it sounded to her ears. Feeling his hand on the small of her back, she trained her body to quickly react to the touch, leaning toward him as he guided her into the elevator, ignoring Hamilton’s obvious annoyance that he had been brushed off so easily.

“Well, Miss Robertson,” Angel said with a voice that was obviously well-trained in the art of picking up women. “Where are we off to tonight?”

“A fun-filled night of going to the gym,” she said, playfully leaning against the wall of the elevator as she bit her lip.

“I think I’m a little overdressed,” he said, smirking at her. “But I wouldn’t mind watching you.”

Fighting every impulse that was telling her to kick him in the crotch, Buffy merely smiled, knowing that she would have to play this game very carefully.

* * * * *

“Did you see her?”

“Yeah,” Spike muttered, pulling at his necktie as he walked through the hotel room.

“And?”

“And… what?” he asked irritably, turning to face Ethan.

“Did you convince her?”

Gritting his teeth, Spike briefly looked up at the ceiling before his gaze traveled to the floor in frustration and ultimate acceptance as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “There was no way to convince her,” he finally said, ignoring the look of disbelief on Ethan’s face.

“Like hell there isn’t! She knows things, Spike. Things that I, myself, would have never let her get close enough to have access to. You have to do something permanent about the situation-”

“And what?” Spike asked, jumping up to face off with one of the few people he trusted. “What do you want me to do? Kill her? Threaten her?”

“Convince her.”

“She’s not going to help me with anything,” he growled. “She’s too good for that. We’re opposite in every way and-”

“And you’re exactly the same,” Ethan said, trying to make his employer see what he could see. “If she goes after Angelus and he convinces her-”

“If I couldn’t convince her, there’s no way he could,” Spike said, pressing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose as if he was trying to stop his migraine from spreading. “Give it up, old man. We’re not going to get her away from the Bureau, and there’s nothing else to it.”

“And you don’t care that she could be with Angelus right now?” Ethan asked, grasping at straws. “You don’t care that she could be sharing his bed-”

“Get out,” Spike said in a menacing voice, hating the visual that Ethan had put in his head.

“I’m just trying to put things in perspective for you, Spike.”

“Don’t need a perspective on anything, mate,” he said, walking toward the window. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I hope so,” Ethan replied, walking out of the room, leaving Spike alone with his thoughts.

Angrily cracking his neck when he heard the door shut, Spike stared at the view from the window, briefly wondering if what Ethan said could be true. Wondering if Buffy was really in Angelus’ bed by now.

“No,” he muttered, shaking his head to further convince himself. “She’s not that kind of…” Trailing off in a raspy whisper, Spike shut his eyes, pressing his forehead against the pane of glass as he took a deep breath. “She loves me.”





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Chapter 26 – On Edge


Propping her head up on her hand, Buffy struggled to keep her eyes open as Angelus continued to drone on about himself.

Being in his presence for the past few weeks had Buffy ready to pull out her hair from listening to his repetitive stories. After their initial meeting, Angelus hadn’t hesitated to ask her out to dinner, believing her to be a young girl alone in the city who needed protecting. She didn’t bother to inform him that her life was very unsheltered, knowing that she would be able to get closer to him this way.

Buffy readily accepted the invitation to go to Los Angeles with him, but the easy acceptance also placed her in the tricky position of avoiding his bed.

“What do you think?”

Snapping out of the daze that she seemed to be in, Buffy cleared her throat and decided to stick with her standard answer. “That sounds great!” she said in an enthusiastically chipper voice.

“I knew you’d feel that way,” he said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Buffy had easily trained herself to react when he got within close proximity to her. It wasn’t the same type of relationship she’d had with Spike, where she could relax whenever he put his arms around her, but then, this wasn’t a relationship at all. She’d made sure to keep her distance with unsurprising ease. Angelus was nice to look at, but Buffy would never dream of crossing any invisible lines with him.

Her attention was drawn away from her comparison to Spike and back to him when his hand covered hers on the linen tablecloth. “Stay with me tonight,” he said.

Buffy looked into the deep brown eyes that seemed to give him a more soulful demeanor than he actually had. Hearing his soft words, she nearly closed her eyes as she remembered a different man saying the same thing to her not so long ago.

Stay with me… please.

“I can’t,” she said, putting a harder edge behind her voice than she originally intended. Offering him a smile when he pulled away with a wounded expression, Buffy took a deep breath. “Angel, you know how I feel about that.”

“It’s been weeks, Liz,” he said in a pleading voice that nearly had her rolling her eyes.

“I know,” she said, leaning back in her chair to put a little more distance between herself and the man in front of her. Taking a moment to look around the restaurant, she redirected her gaze back to Angelus. “And I don’t think this is the place to be having this discussion.”

Knowing that he was irritated with her, Buffy couldn’t bring herself to care as she stood up with him. Allowing him to lead her from the restaurant, Buffy slowly turned toward him before they could reach the limousine.

“Maybe I should go to a hotel tonight,” she said, widening her watery eyes and letting the smallest pout form on her lip, nearly smiling when she got the desired affect.

“I’m sorry,” Angelus said, not sounding apologetic at all. “I don’t mean to pressure you.”

“Maybe…if I got to know you a little better,” she said, biting her lip for a moment. “Like you said- we’ve been together for weeks and I still don’t feel like I know you.”

Brushing a kiss to her lips, Buffy tried to pass off her uncomfortable shiver as a more pleasurable reaction.

“I suppose that would be okay,” he said with an easy smile. “We’ll go out tomorrow night.”

“Great,” Buffy said in a cheerful tone.

* * * * *

Sipping a cup of tea, Rupert Giles idly read his newspaper as he sat in the quaint outdoor café, not bothering to pay attention to his surroundings.

“Well, well… fancy seeing you here, Ripper.”

Looking up at the sound of the accent, Giles half-expected to see Ethan Rayne standing in front of him. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw Spike Reed take a seat across from him, pulling his leather duster more firmly around him as he leaned back in the chair.

“What do you want, Reed?”

“Tsk tsk- manners, Ripper. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you the finer points of conversation?”

“I don’t think the finer points apply when I’m talking to a known thief.”

“Known?” Spike repeated in mock ignorance, leaning even further back into his chair. “If that was true, don’t you think I would be behind bars right now?”

“How about a known murderer?” Giles replied, throwing his newspaper down on the table. “Does that suit you more?”

“I’m not the one with the nickname ‘Ripper’,” Spike said, his tone hardening as he stared at the other man. “I find it hard to believe that your acquaintances know the origin of that particular name.”

“They know what they need to know. I never did anything illegal,” Giles said, glancing around the open area.

“Says you.”

“What do you want?”

“Where is she, Rupert?”

“Who?” Giles asked, raising his eyebrows and barely suppressing the smirk on his face.

“You know damn well who,” Spike growled, leaning closer to the older man. “Tell me.”

“Wherever she may or may not be, one thing is clear- she does not want to be associated with you.”

“She doesn’t know what she wants,” Spike said, nearly throwing his weight back against his chair in frustration. “You’ve trained her to be at your beck and call. To jump when you say how high.”

“I’ve trained her well,” Giles said in a low tone, narrowing his eyes on the blonde.

“What bothers you more, Rupert? That she forgot about doing her job when she was with me? Or the fact that she was screaming my name and not yours?”

Hearing the crashing of a chair falling to the floor, Spike didn’t bother to react as Giles grabbed the lapels of his jacket and threw him against a nearby column. Smirking at the older man, Spike raised an eyebrow as his gaze traveled from the white-knuckled hands that were holding him in place to the enraged eyes boring into his.

“Shut up, you pillock,” Giles said in a rasping whisper.

“Touched a nerve, did I?” he asked in amusement.

“That woman is like a daughter to me,” Giles said, ignoring the looks that the other members of the restaurant were giving him. “And you will not get near her again.”

“And you’d rather her be closer to Angelus?” Spike countered, narrowing his eyes.

Releasing his hold on the duster, Giles took a step away, taking a deep breath. “I would be happy if she would stay inside doing paperwork for the rest of her life… but that’s not Buffy. She needs to be out on an assignment. It’s who she is.”

“Then where is she?” Spike growled, rapidly losing patience.

“You think you’re so smart?” Giles said, narrowing his eyes slightly. “You find her.”

Staying where he was as Giles walked around him and onto the sidewalk, Spike clenched his jaw in frustration before spinning around to follow him. “Think about this, Rupert,” he said, catching up to the other man and matching his stride as they walked together as if they were old friends. “What happens when Angelus finds out who she is?”

Giles’ step faltered as his shoulders tensed. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?” he asked quietly.

“He’s not like me, Giles,” Spike said, stopping to look at him. “It will happen eventually if you keep her on this assignment. He’s not going to give her a chance to walk away.”

“Yes, you’re a real martyr,” he said in a low voice. “Pulling a gun on the woman you care for.”

Glancing around for a moment, Spike made sure no one was watching him before reaching into his coat and pulling out his gun. Seeing Giles take a reflexive step back and reach for his own, Spike threw him the gun, watching the stunned look cross his face as he caught it. “Probably doesn’t mean anything now,” he said, gesturing toward the gun that Giles was inspecting. “But that’s what I had on her that night.”

Turning it over in his hand, Giles’ brow furrowed as he stared at the gun intently, testing the weight of it. “It’s fake,” he murmured to himself in disbelief.

“Knew she’d come armed after… well, the night before wasn’t exactly calm.”

Raising his eyes to Spike’s for a moment, Giles quickly looked away, not wanting to think about the underlying truths in that statement.

“Felt like I needed to even the odds, but I didn’t… I didn’t want to really even the odds.”

“Why?” Giles asked, throwing the gun back to the other man against his better judgment.

“Because I would never intentionally hurt her,” Spike said, looking into Giles’ eyes, letting him see how honest he was being. “There have been times, yeah, when I’ve hurt her… but I never meant to. It just happened.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because Angelus will hurt her, Giles. The second he finds out who she is, he’s going to try and kill her. I know Buffy- I know she can handle herself, but… I also know Angelus.”

“Then why don’t you know where he is?”

“Why haven’t you put him behind bars?” Spike replied irritably. “It’s not that easy to maintain twenty-four hour surveillance on a man who knows that he’s always being watched.”

“You’re willing to help her?”

“I’m willing to get Angelus out of the equation at all costs.”

“She’s been on this assignment for nearly a month.”

“I know,” Spike said, gritting his teeth as his imagination ran away with him. “I’m hoping she’s acquired some information in that time.”

“Quite a bit,” Giles said cryptically.

“I want her away from him just as much as you do, Giles.”

“If you hurt her-”

“I won’t.”

Looking up at the darkening sky for a moment, Giles sighed, not wanting to trust a known criminal, even if he did have Buffy’s best interests at heart but knowing that they were running low on options. “She’s in Los Angeles.”





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Chapter 27 – Why We Fight


‘How can it be possible to be shopping and still be bored out of my mind?’ Buffy asked herself as she walked out of another store.

She was moderately grateful that Angelus hadn’t bothered to tag along, giving her a brief reprieve from his smothering behavior. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was something that was being kept a secret from her- some reason that Angel didn’t want her around that day, but she wasn’t going to question it. Already having nearly enough information to put him away, she was biding her time until she could put it to the best use.

Turning into a different corridor of the mall, Buffy froze when she saw a man step in her path.

“Hello, cutie.”

Feeling her mouth go dry at the sight of him, Buffy inhaled sharply, trying to choke back the nervousness that seemed to be welling up inside of her.

“Good-bye, Spike,” she said, turning around to walk back into the main corridor, gritting her teeth when she felt his hand close over her wrist, pulling her back toward him. “Let me go,” she said in a low tone, trying not to focus on the way his hand on her skin left her aching for his touch.

“You haven’t been playing fair, love.”

The smooth tone nearly had her trembling, unsure of what he wanted. “Pray tell,” she said through clenched teeth, jerking her wrist out of his iron-like grip.

“Disappearing without so much as a good-bye,” he said, shaking his head and clucking his tongue in mock annoyance. “You should be ashamed of yourself, kitten.”

“I’m supposed to check in with you now?” she hissed, involuntarily taking a step back when Spike moved closer to her, effectively pressing her against the wall.

“Always,” he said in a soft, self-assured voice, giving her a lazy smile.

“Get out of my way, Spike… now.”

Raising an eyebrow, obviously impressed with the way she was standing up to him, Spike merely took a step closer, pressing his hands to the wall on each side of her until Buffy was effectively boxed in.

Dropping the amused smile, he stared into her eyes, seeing the anger and frustration in hers that mirrored his own. “Get out of this assignment, Buffy.”

“Mind your own business,” she replied in the same tone.

“I’m not kidding,” he said, his voice dropping even lower.

“Neither am I,” she countered with a raised eyebrow. “Get out of my life… I’m not telling you again.”

Pushing one of his arms away from the wall, Buffy gasped when she felt her back slam into the unforgiving surface. Vaguely aware of his hands biting into her arms, bruising the skin as he held her in place, she managed a slight struggle when he crushed his lips to hers.

Fighting everything inside of her that was telling her to get lost in the kiss, Buffy felt tears burning her eyes at the bittersweet reminder of what she wanted that she could never have.

Breaking away after a moment to breathe, Spike opened his eyes at the sound of her muffled sob.

“Buffy…?”

Roughly shoving him away from her, Buffy hastily wiped her mouth as she tried to get control over her erratic breathing. Nervously tucking her hair behind her ears, she battled the tears in her eyes, becoming all too aware that Spike was watching her.

Looking up to see his narrowed eyes on her, Buffy watched him tilt his head, running his tongue along his bottom lip as he considered her.

“Get away from me,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong, a direct contradiction to her chaotic emotions.

“Afraid I can’t do that, love.”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not falling for it,” Buffy said, stepping away from him, craving the opportunity that she could get away from him and disappear. “I don’t want to see you… I don’t want to know you. Stay away from me.”

Half-expecting a fist to her jaw, Buffy was surprised that he managed to hold onto his composure.

“I came here to help you,” he said, gritting his teeth around the words.

“I don’t need you. I never need you, Spike.”

“That’s how you feel?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I feel like you would only help someone who could do something for you. I’m not that person.”

“Walk away and stay away- that about it, pet?”

Tightening her lips in response, Buffy watched as he leaned in as if he was going to kiss her before pulling away and turning toward the exit.

“Good luck, Goldilocks… you’re gonna need it.”

Closing her eyes when he was out of her sight, Buffy fought the urge to bring her hands up to her face, wanting nothing more than to sob in anguish.

* * * * *

Exhaustedly walking into her hotel room an hour later, Buffy desperately tried to put the conversation with Spike behind her. She was emotionally drained from seeing him and wanted nothing more than to relive that entire conversation. Knowing it was impossible, she still couldn’t help but wish that things were different.

She didn’t want to think about the lecture she was going to get from Wesley when she saw him. The live feed was left on twenty-four hours a day, ever since she’d nearly blown her cover the first night, and running into Spike would not put her on Wesley’s good list. Especially considering she’d kissed him.

‘He kissed me,’ she told herself, shutting the door behind her. ‘It’s not like you asked him to.’

Turning around, she swallowed a gasp when she ran into Angelus’ chest, pulling back to see his narrowed eyes.

“Hello, Liz.”

Breathing steadily, she managed to offer him a slight smile. “Angel,” she replied, already uncomfortable with being so close to him. Taking a step away, she set her purse down on the table by the door. “Is something wrong?” she finally asked, turning toward him.

“Where’ve you been?”

The soft-spoken voice, coupled with the underlying possession in his tone, grated on Buffy’s nerves.

“Shopping,” she replied with an edge to her voice, turning away from him as she set her keys on the table next to her purse. “I told you that I was going.”

“See anything interesting?” he asked conversationally.

Raising her eyes to the wall, Buffy contemplated the question for a moment before shaking her head. “Nothing worth spending any money on,” she said.

“And you didn’t run into anyone?”

Buffy’s blood turned to ice water in her veins as she turned and walked toward the kitchen area. “Why do you ask?” she replied, keeping her tone light and neutral as she opened the refrigerator, grabbing a water bottle.

“I thought you wanted to be with me, Liz.”

“I-I do,” she said, turning around to look him in the eye as she spoke, forcing a smile on her lips. “Angel, you know you’re the only one for me.”

Studying her for a moment, Angelus slowly began pacing back and forth. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand,” he said, slowly walking toward her with a finger pressed to his lips as if he was deep in thought. “If you were so devoted to me… why were you talking to Spike Reed?”

Hoping to play it off for a while, she casually took a sip of water. “Oh,” she said, trying to put an appropriate amount of surprise behind her words. “You know Spike?”

“Yeah,” he said in a low voice. “The question I have is- how do you know Spike?”

“Oh… we went out,” she said, grasping at straws. “Not long- just on one or two dates… h-how do you know him?” she asked, clearing her throat to cover up the sound of her nervous stutter.

“I think you already know.”

Tightening her lips slightly, Buffy slowly moved toward the living room as if she was trying to get away from a dangerous animal. “Do I?” she asked, her voice taking on a calm quality.

“And when the girl I want to be with is seen kissing another man… a man who I hate… it raises some eyebrows.”

“You’re having me followed?” she asked, her voice returning to its normal tone as she looked at him, dropping the façade. “I wouldn’t have thought you would be that smart.”

Buffy’s eyes widened when he reached out and backhanded her, the force of the impact throwing her into the corner of the table next to the couch. Breathing heavily as she picked herself up off the floor, Buffy could feel the blood trickling down her face from a gash in her forehead.

Spinning around, she slammed her fist into Angelus’ eye, feeling a moderate amount of satisfaction when his head snapped back.

Turning around to run for the door, Buffy cried out when he grabbed her hair, jerking her back to him and twisting her head until it was at an unnatural angle. Glaring up at Angelus as he looked at her, her eyes narrowed when she heard him speak.

“Who are you?”

“You’re so smart,” she said, gritting her teeth. “You figure it out.”

Punching him in the face, Buffy spun around when he let her go, holding his nose and groaning in pain.

Crying out when he shoved her into the wall, using his body to hold her in place, Buffy managed to get enough room, kicking out until she managed to knee him in the groin. Seeing his eyes close as he gasped for air, she shoved him away, wincing when he grabbed her arm and managed to throw her to the floor.

Whimpering when he lay down on top of her, Buffy struggled beneath him, her eyes widening when he managed to pin her wrists above her head.

“Maybe I’ll just take what I wanted and leave,” he said with a cold smile.

“Get the hell off me,” she said through gritted teeth, her lips setting in a firm line when his free hand slowly trailed down her body. Doing what she could to get him off of her, Buffy managed to hit him in the eye with her elbow. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but she could see the rage growing in his eyes, seconds before he punched her in the face.

Swallowing back the cry of pain, Buffy renewed her struggle, managing to get a hand free from his grasp. Reaching over to grab a nearby cord, she pulled on it until the iron lamp that was resting on the table began to teeter on the edge. Seeing it fall and hit Angel on the back of the head, her cheekbone felt like it was being crushed when he punched her again.

“You bitch!”

Grabbing the lamp firmly in her hand, Buffy blindly swung, catching Angelus in the jaw, throwing him off of her and onto the coffee table next to them. Weakly rolling over onto her side, she struggled to push herself off the ground. Breathing heavily, her eyes widened when Angelus loomed over her. Screaming in pain when he viciously kicked her in the stomach, Buffy curled in on herself, shielding her body from the attack, but nothing could prevent the damage he was inflicting on her.

Gasping for air when he finally stopped, Buffy could barely see through the cloud of pain, gritting her teeth when she felt him grab her hair, pulling her until she was partially sitting and partially lying on the floor, looking into her eyes.

“I will find out who you are,” he said in a low voice. “After I kill you.”

Seeing the cold eyes boring into hers, Buffy managed a painful smirk when she noticed his soon-to-be black eye, swollen nose, and the damage that the lamp had done. “You’re not man enough,” she said in a low voice, wincing when he backhanded her, his other hand still holding her in place.

Clenching her jaw, Buffy struck out, the pointed toe of her shoe catching him in the groin for the second time. Hearing his cry of pain as he let her go, Buffy managed to push herself into a sitting position, grabbing the nearby lamp and swinging it with all of the strength she had left, hitting Angelus in the temple and sending him falling onto the couch that was next to her.

Tears of pain welled up in her eyes as she tried to get to her feet, her hand reflexively gripping her stomach, knowing she had at least one broken rib, unsurprised if there were more than that.

Hearing Angel moan on the couch, she gasped for air as she tried to push herself to her feet, never noticing when he sat up a little straighter and aimed another well-placed kick at her abdomen. Crumpling to the floor, Buffy closed her eyes, desperately wishing for some kind of divine intervention to save her.

Hearing the door swing open, she groggily looked up, groaning silently when she saw Hamilton come rushing into the room. Seeing him stop to survey the place, he ran over to his boss, helping him to his feet.

Buffy could hear fragments of the conversation, but the reality of having not one, but two men who were twice her size, both wanting her dead, was more than she could handle.

“… cops… have to go… Angel, there’s no time… now!”

Looking up to see Hamilton above her as Angelus limped from the room, Buffy stared into his eyes, waiting for his hands to wrap around her neck.

Seeing his body coil as if he was prepared to strike, Buffy turned her head away, seconds before a powerful kick rendered her unconscious.





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Chapter 28 – Rock Bottom


The steady beeping of a nearby machine roused Buffy, causing her to wince when she finally managed to open her swollen eyes. Seeing the sterile white room, she nearly closed them again in relief, realizing that she wasn’t dead.

Turning her head with some difficulty, Buffy was surprised to see Giles sitting at her bedside, holding her hand in a warm grip.

“Giles?” she whispered, her parched throat making the simple word sound cracked and uneven.

“Buffy,” he said, raising his eyes to hers, a relieved smile on his face.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice coming out in a raspy whisper, looking at him with an uncertain gaze.

“Do you remember anything?” he asked gently, tightening his hold on her hand, offering her what little comfort he could provide.

“I remember… Angelus,” she said softly, closing her eyes against the memories before reopening them. “He knew… he knew something. We fought and… I couldn’t get back to my gun. It was in my purse and he… Please tell me he looks worse than me.”

Giving her a soft smile, Giles squeezed her hand. “I wish I could say that.”

Closing her eyes, Buffy let her head fall back to the pillow. “He’s gone, isn’t he?” she whispered, hearing Giles’ soft confirmation. “Hamilton came in…”

“Yes,” he said with a slight nod. “It’s all on tape.”

Turning to look at him when she heard Giles’ choked voice, Buffy tried to offer him a smile- no easy feat, since her facial features didn’t want to respond to her.

“Buffy, I-”

“Don’t,” she said, attempting to shake her head. “I wanted the assignment and I knew… I knew this was a possibility. I’m sure everyone got there as fast as they could.”

Never hearing the door open as the nurse walked in and checked her blood pressure, Buffy offered him a kind smile.

“I did what I could,” she said, swallowing with some difficulty. “I don’t regret it. And I… I just hope it helps us in the long run.”

“I don’t want you to worry about a thing,” the nurse said with a kind smile, drawing Buffy’s attention over to her. “You’re young and healthy- there will be plenty of chances for another baby.”

Feeling her breath catch in her throat, the world felt like it was closing in on her as her hold tightened on Giles’ hand. Her stomach twisted itself into knots as she looked back and forth between the nurse and her surrogate father.

“What?” she asked in disbelief, shaking her head when Giles raised his glassy eyes to hers. “I was…? No,” she whispered, letting her tears spill over as her shoulders shook. “No, not like this… I… everything is okay, right? Please, Giles, please tell me it’s okay,” she cried, clutching at him when he pulled her into a warm hug, offering her the comfort he could as she continued to sob into his shoulder.

Motioning the woman out of the room, Giles ignored the nurse’s remorseful look as she shut the door behind her, doing everything he could to comfort the woman in his arms.

“I know it’s… difficult,” he said after several minutes when her tears began to quiet. “And I’m so sorry you had to hear about it this way… but things will get better.”

Not bothering to reply, Buffy merely buried her face further into his shoulder, letting the tears continue to fall.

* * * * *

Buffy was numb.

The previous days had passed in a blur that she couldn’t remember. Friends and co-workers had stopped by, wishing her all the best. Her best friend Willow even managed to take some time off work and stay a few nights in the hospital with her while she recuperated.

Buffy filled her in on what she could of the last few months, glossing over some of the more private or business details, leaving her friend stunned with everything that had happened.

Xander and her other co-workers sent flowers and balloons, while Wesley had stopped by with a box of chocolate, obviously nervous that Buffy was going to blame him for not being able to get to her faster. Buffy had quickly put him at ease, telling him that she and Angelus had barely fought for five minutes before Wesley and his men showed up and there was no way he could have known what Angelus knew at the time.

Wesley had seemed more at ease when he left, but Buffy could tell that a residual amount of guilt still remained.

Giles was a constant presence in her room, obviously another person who was feeling guilty for allowing her to go on a new assignment when he felt that she wasn’t ready. Buffy stayed quiet throughout each new tirade, only to retaliate with the obvious answer that she wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. At that time.

But then, there is a reason that hindsight is twenty/twenty.

It was when she left the hospital that she was thrown another curve-ball. Going over her discharge papers with the nurse on the day she was to check out, Buffy received a beautiful crystal vase that was nearly overflowing with roses. The vibrant color could be described as nothing else but blood red – the same color that Spike had scattered throughout her room the night he confessed that he loved her.

There was no card with the bouquet, leading to Buffy’s speculations. She didn’t know if she wanted the flowers to be from Spike. It was a double-edged sword. Unsure of whether or not it was worse to think they were from him and he didn’t care enough to stop by and see her or if they were from another man who’d liked red roses.

The same man who’d put her in the hospital.

She had been told to take a few weeks off work, but Buffy found that she couldn’t stay away from the Bureau.

After more than two weeks of doing nothing, Buffy was in the training room, ignoring the pain that lanced through her body as she attacked the punching bag, taking out all of her aggression and pent up hostility on it.

That was how Giles found her.

“Haven’t I made it clear that you are not to come within one hundred yards of this building while you are recuperating?” he asked, seeing the slight pause in her movements before she began hitting the bag again.

“You can’t expect me to stay home all the time,” she countered, gritting her teeth when a particular combination irritated her still-mending ribs.

“Buffy, I’m worried about you.”

“Why?” she asked in a disinterested tone. “I’m fine.”

“Go home, Buffy. Get some rest.”

“Giles, I just want to get out of the house for a while,” she said, turning to face the man behind her, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“I gave you this time off for a reason. I don’t want you injuring yourself anymore than you already have.”

“Not injured,” she said in a pouting tone, looking down at the floor, turning away from him so he couldn’t see the slight hue that still stained the skin beneath her eye.

Considering the experience that she’d been through, she was moderately surprised that she didn’t have more scars from the night with Angelus. But he had seen to it that all of her scars were on the inside. The only remainders being a slight black eye, cracked ribs, the healing cut on her forehead, and a dull ache in her heart that she felt would never go away.

“You are to take another week off and that’s final.”

Looking up at Giles with an incredulous expression, Buffy opened her mouth to protest, stopping when he raised a hand to silence her.

“I said that’s final, Agent Summers.”

Buffy’s shoulders dropped in disappointment as she looked at Giles.

“Don’t give me that look, or I will see to it that you have mandatory sessions with Dr. Maclay. Although, I think you should be doing that anyway.”

“I’ll be okay, Giles,” she murmured, idly watching her foot as she dragged it along the floor, doing what she could to avoid his eyes.

“You’ve been through quite a traumatic experience, Buffy-”

“I know that,” she said with a harder edge to her voice than she intended. Clearing her throat, she nervously rolled her shoulders, trying to alleviate some of the tension she was feeling. “Maybe you’re right,” she said with a slight nod. “I’m feeling okay right now, maybe… maybe a few more days will really help me come back. I’ll be tip-toppity Buffy in no time,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face.

“Glad to hear it,” Giles said, raising an eyebrow, obviously not believing a word she said as she walked past him, toward the door. “Buffy,” he called after her, seeing her pause with her hand on the doorknob. “If you do need to talk to someone…”

Letting the unspoken statement hang in the air, Giles watched as Buffy turned around with a genuine smile on her face.

“Thanks, Giles.”






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Chapter 29 – Raging Emotions


Buffy felt as if she was going stir-crazy in her home. Frustrated that she couldn’t do something more useful with her time – and desperately needing something to calm her overzealous thoughts – she was ready to call Giles and demand that he let her come back to work.

Of course, she knew how that conversation would end up, so she didn’t bother. He had told her a mandatory week off and she knew better than to try and get him to bend the rules for her. He was more worried about her than anyone.

‘You only have to wait a couple more days,’ she thought, taking a deep breath. ‘It won’t kill you to have some time off.’

All bruises were virtually undetectable and her ribs were feeling better, but the loneliness that she was feeling seemed to encompass her, drawing her farther into the depths of despair.

Shaking her head, she cleared her throat, expertly chopping up the vegetables for her salad, glancing out the large window in her kitchen in time to see the vivid colors of the sunset fading away, leaving nothing but a hazy gray sky. Buffy briefly paused in her movements, closing her eyes when her heart rate picked up speed. Not bothering to question what was happening, she turned back to the vegetables in front of her, nearly shaking her head at the irony. “Not to sound redundant or… like you, but get out.”

Hearing footsteps slowly approaching her, she didn’t bother to look over her shoulder when they stopped. Her entire body was tensed as she waited for him to say something.

“What the hell do you want?” she finally asked, her voice that had been strong and held such conviction just moments ago now sounded weak and hollow to her own ears.

“Just thought I’d stop by.”

Turning around to face him, Buffy took a deep breath, seeing Spike casually leaning against the doorframe that led into the hallway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his duster.

“Oh, come on,” she said, her voice slightly teasing as she looked at him with a smirk on her face. “You can come up with a better excuse than that.”

Seeing his eyes drop to the floor, Buffy suddenly realized how uncomfortable he seemed to be, standing in her kitchen. She had never seen him look anything but sure of himself and in control- the man in front of her was obviously nervous, in spite of his relaxed demeanor. It left a feeling of discontentment in Buffy’s stomach.

“Why are you really here, Spike?” she asked, dropping all pretenses and niceties as she stared at him through cold green eyes.

“I heard you lost a baby,” he said softly, seeing her tense before she turned away to prepare the pasta that was in front of her.

“I didn’t lose a baby- my baby was killed,” she whispered, closing her eyes to fight off the pain that seemed to shake her to the core.

“I’m sorry, love… poor choice of words and… I’m sorry.”

The double, or perhaps triple, meaning of the apology was obvious.

The standard response to that sentiment had always been ‘It’s not your fault’, but what do you tell the man who had been the father of your child when it was his fault? Not directly- no more directly than Buffy herself- but what would have been different if he hadn’t told her to get out that night? If Angelus’ men hadn’t seen him that day?

Or if she hadn’t told him she didn’t need his help…

“What are you doing here?” she asked, biting her lip and clutching the edge of the counter to keep herself from turning around.

“Guess I just wanted to see for myself that you’re okay,” he said, his calm voice never rising, causing Buffy to strain to hear him in the quiet room. “I tried to tell-”

“Yes, Spike, you tried to tell me!” she cried, whirling around to face him. “Everyone tried to tell me. Everyone…” Trailing off in a choked voice, Buffy closed her eyes, pressing the palms of her hands to her forehead as she tried to regulate her breathing. Slowly looking at him again, she saw the questioning gaze and the underlying sympathy in his eyes.

And she hated him for it.

“You also told me to get out, remember?” she asked, tilting her head to study him. “You told me to leave before I had to leave in a body-bag. You told me that I couldn’t handle Angelus and you…” Biting her lip, she let a slight smile play on her lips before shaking her head. “Doesn’t matter,” she whispered, looking up at him once again. “None of it matters. Nothing I say will change the past.”

Turning away from him, Buffy closed her eyes as she listened to his footsteps cross the tile before feeling his hand gently brush the hair away from her shoulders.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “Nothing you say will change it… but maybe you needed to get it out there.”

“Maybe,” she murmured, turning toward him slightly, seeing him watching her out of the corner of her eye.

“And yeah, I knew it was dangerous,” he continued, seeing her briefly raise her eyes to his before looking away. “Angel’s a sick son of a bitch, but I never thought he would hurt the mother of his own child,” Spike said, a bitter note creeping into his voice.

Looking up at him in surprise, Buffy opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to think of anything to tell him for a moment.

“I didn’t… I never…” Trailing off, her brows still furrowed in surprise, she turned away from his curious gaze, only to feel his hands on her shoulders, redirecting her attention back to him.

“Never what?” he asked softly.

Swallowing all of the nerves in her stomach, she knew that he deserved the truth. “It was your baby, Spike,” she whispered, cowering slightly when she saw the darkening of his features.

“No,” he said in a raspy whisper, shaking his head as he stumbled backwards, needing distance from her. “No,” he repeated more forcefully, seeing the unshed tears that were shimmering in Buffy’s eyes.

Averting her gaze, Buffy jumped but didn’t make a move to restrain him when she heard his fist hitting the wall as he frantically tried to take his rage out on something. She knew without a doubt that he would have stopped if she had so much as moved closer to him, but she also knew that he needed to get this out. She’d had her fair share of near-breakdowns, and she was more than willing to wait until he got it out of his system, instinctively knowing that he felt responsible. And more than a little bit guilty.

Seeing him visibly calm down, Buffy watched as his fists relaxed, leaving his hands firmly planted on the wall as she turned away from him.

“And you were never going to tell me?” he asked angrily, looking at her with a darkened expression.

“When did you want me to tell you, Spike?” she said, not having the courage to turn around and face him as her hands fisted on the counter, trying to control her raging emotions. “Did you want me to call you up and say ‘Hey, remember me? Guess what- I know we hate each other, but I’m having your baby’?”

“It would have been a start,” he whispered coldly.

“And then what?” she asked, spinning around to face him. “You tell your minions that they have to wait nine months before they kill me? I’m sure that would have been your number one priority.”

“Is that really what you think?” he asked in a soft whisper, his eyes narrowing dangerously when she didn’t answer. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. Never forget that, love.”

His tone of voice sent a chill up and down her spine as she turned away from him, unwilling to look him in the eye anymore. “Then why am I still here?” she whispered in a choked voice, closing her eyes.

Waiting for a response, Buffy swallowed a gasp when she felt his hand grab her throat. Immediately spinning around, her hand reflexively grabbed the butcher knife on the counter, only to be stopped by an iron grip. Staring up at him with an unreadable expression, she took a deep breath, seeing the smug look on his face.

“How many weapons do you have in here?” he asked, his calm tone scaring her more than the hand that was firmly wrapped around her neck.

“What do you care?” she asked, tightening her hold on the knife, feeling his hand tighten around her wrist in response.

“Never said anything about caring… but you shouldn’t have to reach for a weapon when you feel threatened.”

“I’m touched,” she said in a disinterested voice. “You’re actually taking an interest in me.”

Closing her eyes when Spike leaned forward, letting his lips brush against her skin as his breath tickled her ear, she trembled when he spoke.

“Always have.”

The whispered words sent an involuntary shiver racing along her spine before her eyes snapped open when she was released.

“So let’s try this again,” he said, extracting the knife from her grip and tossing it over his shoulder without looking, noticing Buffy jump at the loud clatter it made when it landed in the sink.

“Try what ag-”

Cut off with a gasp when his hands wrapped around her throat, viciously applying pressure until her back slammed flat against the counter, she immediately grabbed at his hands, seeing the cold indifference on his face. Scratching at his arms, trying to get him to release her, she made herself calm down as much as possible, getting a clear head before changing the angle and slamming her elbow into his face. Clutching at the edge of the counter to keep herself upright when he stumbled backwards, her other hand went up to her neck, rubbing the handprints that would surely be there the next morning.

“There’s my girl,” Spike said, stemming the flow from his bloody nose.

“I’m not your girl,” she replied angrily, resisting the urge to give him a black eye to go with his nose. “And I don’t need your help,” she spat out angrily, finding it hard to speak as she rubbed her bruised throat.

“You don’t need help?” he asked in a challenging tone.

“I never have.”

“Then why couldn’t you do that with the pillock?” he asked angrily, trying to cover his emotions. “You’re the strongest woman I know, Buffy. Why couldn’t you… why?”

“You weren’t there!” she cried angrily. “You have no idea what happened. What I went through. I didn’t know how to act around him, how to…” Trailing off as she closed her eyes, Buffy pressed her palms to her eyes with a strangled cry.

“Damn it, Spike,” she whispered in a harsh voice, obviously trying to swallow her tears. “You weren’t there. If it had been you… if I had been with you… but I wasn’t and…”

Removing her hands, she slowly turned away, taking a deep breath, clawing at the counter as if she could disappear into it.

“What are you saying?” he asked softly, hesitantly stepping forward and gently putting his hands on her waist, noticing that she didn’t flinch away from his touch. Even after all of the violence that they’d inflicted on each other, she still seemed to take comfort in him.

“I shouldn’t have taken that assignment,” she whispered in an agonizing tone. “I wasn’t ready… not emotionally and… and Angelus goes for a weakness. That’s who he is. He knew that there was something off and he used it to his advantage. When my guard was down, he noticed.”

“Did he know about the baby?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

“I didn’t even know,” Buffy whispered, letting her head fall into her hands. “I knew that something with my body was a little… off, but I just attributed that to stress. Two huge assignments in a few months… I didn’t think it was anything. I don’t even think that Giles would have told me, but a nurse walked in and she thought she could offer me some comfort and…”

“That’s how you found out?” Spike asked, his heart aching for her when he saw her nod. “Did you… did you want the baby?”

Slowly dragging her hands down her face until they were folded in front of her, she unseeingly looked straight ahead, obviously thinking about what she wanted to tell him. “How can you want something you never really had?” she whispered, not putting any weight behind her words, closing her eyes when Spike’s hands tightened around her waist, breathing a sigh of relief when his lips gently brushed along her neck.

“It’s easy, love,” he murmured against her skin, not moving to take it any farther as he wrapped his arms around her waist, nearly jumping in surprise when she turned in his embrace and eagerly wrapped her arms around him. That had been the last reaction he was expecting.

Gently holding her close to him, he ran a hand over her hair, closing his eyes when he felt the moisture of her tears seeping through his shirt before taking a deep breath.

This wasn’t him.

He wasn’t this guy.

He was supposed to stay hard. Cold. That’s who he was, who he had always been. But the feel of her warm, soft body seeking comfort from him had him pulling her even closer.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered after a moment, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice muffled by her hair.

“Promise me something,” she said softly, seeing him pull back to look at her. “Promise me you… you’re not doing anything that will make the Bureau come after you.”

“At the moment… I’m not.”

“Spike,” she whispered, putting the weight of her feelings behind the single word, closing her eyes to ward off the pain.

“Buffy, if you think I’m going to let this slide-”

“Let what slide?” she asked, her eyes growing wide when she realized what he was talking about. “Spike, no. No! You can’t… I won’t let you.”

“You don’t really have a choice, love.”

“No,” she repeated, shaking her head. “We’re looking for him, we’re going to find him and…” Trailing off when he gently lowered his lips to hers, eliciting a small moan from her when his hands cupped her face, he slowly pulled away, seeing her flushed face and glassy eyes, remembering a time that was so easy for them.

‘Was it really only a few months ago?’ he asked himself, shaking his head as he stepped away.

“Spike, please don’t do this,” she pleaded, catching his arm when he tried to walk toward the door.

“Why do you care?” he asked, turning to face her.

“I… I just do, okay?” she replied, nearly choking on the words as her true feelings almost came out. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Trust me, I won’t be,” he said, walking out the door before she had a chance to respond.

Nearly slamming it behind him, he flipped open his cell phone, waiting until he heard his friend’s voice on the other line.

“Gunn, find out where O’Neill is. Now.”





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Chapter 30 – Process of Elimination


“Buffy,” Giles said in greeting, offering her a kind smile when she walked into the room. “You still have a few days off work- I expect you to be using them.”

“I will,” she said.

Watching as her boss stared at the grid in front of him, writing down a few notes on his clipboard, Buffy hesitantly took the seat next to him, studying the green lights as they swept along the black background. Taking a deep breath, she nervously fidgeted with the silk scarf that was tied around her neck, hiding the bruises that Spike’s hands had inflicted on her skin the night before. She didn’t want to worry the older man, and she knew Giles would have a field day if he saw those.

“Giles, I have a question.”

“Go ahead, Buffy,” he said, giving her an easy smile he turned toward her.

Pausing for a moment, she opened and closed her mouth a few times, taking a deep breath. “If O’Neill was eliminated… completely eliminated… that would be good, right?”

Sitting down across from her, Giles took off his glasses, rubbing them with a soft cloth, lost in thought. “If Angelus O’Neill was taken out… it would definitely fall under a good category.”

“A-and it doesn’t matter who takes him out, right? I-I mean, if it was someone outside the Bureau?”

Sitting up a little straighter, the older man gave her a hard look. “What are you talking about?”

Nervously wringing her hands together, Buffy bit her lip for a moment. “Let’s say that there’s someone out there who wants him gone as much as we do. Now… we can’t infiltrate his surroundings like last time. Not anytime soon, anyway- he’s too smart for that and he’ll smell a trap. But if someone… if someone could get close enough, could give us the information we need to justify it and… it’s possible, isn’t it?”

“And who are we talking about, Buffy?” he asked softly, knowing the answer when she immediately hid her eyes from his view.

“Spike came to see me last night,” she murmured, not wanting to meet his gaze, knowing that she would see disappointment on his features. “I told him the truth,” she whispered. “About the baby, about… I told him and he didn’t really take it well. Not that he should have,” she added as an afterthought.

“And he wants to kill Angelus,” Giles filled in, leaning back in his chair as Buffy’s eyes raised to his.

“Not wants to… will. He will kill him the first chance he gets. And so I need to know… if there’s a chance that it could be for us, to do us a favor…”

“You want him exonerated.”

“It’s not like he’s as bad as Angelus-”

“But he’s still bad, Buffy. What do you think will happen once O’Neill is out of the way? Do you think Reed is just going to sit idly by and not try to make his operation bigger?”

“It’s not the mafia, Giles. Spike has all the money he needs and-”

“This was never about money,” he said in exasperation, standing up to pace the room. “Spike Reed could retire ten times over, but it’s not about that. It’s the power… he craves the power of his position.”

“And if he didn’t?” she whispered, looking up at him with a pleading gaze. “If he really would stop… would you consider it?”

“There’s no reason for him to stop,” Giles said softly, sitting down as he looked at her, trying to make her understand.

“But there might be,” she said, a note of desperation in her voice. “If I can talk to him, I might…”

“Do you love him, Buffy?” he asked, looking up at her and seeing her gaze quickly avert his eyes. “Buffy?” he prodded, leaning a little lower, trying to force eye contact with her.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’m definitely having feelings that I shouldn’t be having, but that could just be leftover from the… pregnancy. Even if I didn’t know I was having his baby at the time, I just… it’s hard, Giles,” she said in a choked whisper, fighting back the tears. “I just want it all to stop, and if I can make that happen, I want to try.”

Sitting back in his chair, Giles ran a hand over his face, letting it cover his mouth as he sat deep in thought.

“Angelus is the worst threat and you know it,” she said, staring at her hands. “Spike is dangerous, but he doesn’t go out looking for trouble… not anymore. Angelus likes to cause it, he loves to wreak havoc and have the power and the thrill. Spike’s not like that.”

“You don’t know that,” Giles said softly. “You haven’t seen that side of him.”

“I’ve seen every side of him,” Buffy replied, her voice coming out stronger as she looked up at her boss. “I’ve seen the side that’s held a gun to me and tried to break me down… the one who’s overpowered me because he knew that it would make me stronger and the one… the one where I actually got to see him.”

Hearing the choked sob in her voice, Giles stayed quiet for a moment, letting her compose herself. “Does he love you?” he asked softly, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him as he looked at her.

Looking at the desk in front of her to avoid his eyes, Buffy thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know.”

* * * * *

“You go into this blind and it will get you killed,” Ethan said, following Spike around the mansion.

“Maybe,” Spike muttered, testing the weight of his gun as he pushed open the doors at the back of the house. Leveling the gun on an unseen target, he pulled the trigger three times, ignoring the ringing in his ears as the bullets sliced through the air, disappearing to nowhere. “Doesn’t really matter as long as I take him with me.”

“All this for a girl,” Ethan muttered, sitting down at the patio table.

“What of it?” Spike said, turning toward the other man, who obviously became all too aware that his short-tempered boss was holding a gun.

“Nothing,” he said with an easy smile, sitting up a little straighter.

“O’Neill should have been taken out a long time ago and you know it.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to know it,” Ethan retaliated, not wanting to get involved.

“You work for me, this is what happens,” Spike replied, aiming the gun and firing once more.

“Can I tender my resignation?” he asked dryly.

Looking over his shoulder with a slight smile, Spike shook his head. “‘Fraid not, mate. You’re stuck with me.”

“Till death do us part, eh?”

“That’s basically it.”

“How romantic,” Ethan said, seeing Spike chuckle slightly.

The smile slowly faded as Spike stared into the distance. Images flashing through his brain of Buffy’s tear-stained face, Angelus’ cocky smile, and what Buffy must have gone through to be put in the hospital.

“Do we know where he is?” Spike asked, his tone immediately turning cold and brutal.

“We have a place and time. Tomorrow night.”

“You make it sound like a date,” Spike replied, doing his best to keep his smirk in place.

“Close enough,” Ethan muttered, not liking this plan. “Date with death.”

“His,” Spike clarified, aiming the gun as he waited for Ethan’s confirmation. Not hearing one, he turned to look over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m supposed to agree with everything you say now?” the other man asked.

Spike didn’t have a chance to ask him as the doorbell sounded throughout the large house. “No agreement necessary. Just get the door,” he replied, gesturing toward the back door.

“I’m a bloody butler now?”

“Would you rather just be bloody?” Spike asked, seeing Ethan edging toward the house.

“I don’t think that requires an answer,” he said, disappearing into the house.

Checking over the gun he was holding, Spike began to reload when Ethan appeared a few moments later.

“Spike, you have a visitor,” he said in a crisp British accent.

“Don’t want to see anyone,” he muttered, never looking up from his task.

“I think you want to see this person.”

Looking up at the serious tone of Ethan’s voice, Spike frowned, his brow furrowing as his eyes asked a silent question.

“It’s Miss Summers.”





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Chapter 31 – Losing Sight of the Big Picture


Feeling short of breath as he walked through the hallway, Spike barely registered his own movements as he entered the living room. Seeing Buffy nervously pacing in front of the fireplace, he let a smile play on his lips until she turned toward him.

Spike watched as her eyes widened for a moment before she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m not armed.”

Looking at her in confusion, he frowned, unsure of what she was saying. Noticing that her gaze was redirected to his hand, he looked down, realizing that he was still holding his gun.

Clearing his throat, he hastily set it down on a nearby table before nervously shoving his hands in his pockets. “Wasn’t for you, pet.”

“Yeah, well… can’t be too sure in this house,” she muttered, not making eye contact with him as she looked at the floor, obviously remembering the last time she’d been in his home.

Clearing his throat, Spike hesitantly took a few steps toward her. “Why are you here?”

“Aside from the ‘trying to not get killed’ portion of the visit?” she asked with a slight smile.

“Wouldn’t hurt you, love,” he said quietly. “Not intentionally.”

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Buffy fought the disbelieving laugh. “I think the scar and the bruises on my neck would tell a different story,” she said, looking up to see his reaction.

Spike dropped his eyes, clearing his throat as he shifted from foot to foot, remembering the night from so many months ago as well as what he’d done to her the night before, trying to remember that it all fell under the realm of being ‘for her own good’.

“Low blow,” Buffy said after a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“Wasn’t the first one you’ve ever taken,” he said, forcing a smile when he looked into her eyes. “Why are you here, Buffy?” he repeated.

“Work,” she replied, seeing his body go rigid. “Not… It’s nothing related to you, Spike,” she said quickly. “Not directly, anyway.”

“Then what is it?” he asked, tilting his head to study her.

“Truth?”

“First time for everything,” he said, trying to smile as he moved closer, leaning against the back of the couch, directly across from where Buffy was standing.

“Okay,” she said, obviously gathering her nerves as she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “I miss you,” she said, fighting to keep her eyes on his as the confusion and mistrust flashed through his gaze.

“Alright,” he said slowly, unsure of what the underlying meaning of her words could signify.

“Don’t ask me why,” she continued with a slight laugh, doing what she could to lighten the mood. “But I do.”

“What’s that mean, then?” he asked, eyeing her warily.

“I’ve talked to Giles,” she said quietly, seeing him tense at the mention of her boss. “He said if you’re determined to go after Angelus, there’s a way…”

“Spit it out, Buffy,” he said, unsure of where the conversation was going.

“If you go after Angelus for the Bureau and you keep clean after that… you’ll be fully exonerated. For everything,” she clarified, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise. Waiting for a response, she nervously gave him a hopeful smile. “What do you think?”

“Where’s the catch?” he asked after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?”

“The catch. I’ve done too much shit to be let go, Buffy.”

“But they can’t prove it,” she said, shaking her head to emphasize her point.

“And why’s that?” he asked suspiciously. “Surely you would have turned over anything and everything that you found when you were with… when you were investigating me.”

“Not everything,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes. “I gave them enough information to arrest you, if you’d gone after the Renoir, but they don’t know anything about… the people you’ve killed.”

Rubbing his jaw for a moment, Spike took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. “And you know?”

“Spike, you already told me-”

“You know details?” he asked with an edge to his voice. There had once been a small window of opportunity that he would have told her everything she wanted to know about his past dealings, but that time had long passed. “Answer me, Buffy.”

Looking into his eyes, she kept her expression indifferent as she nodded. “I know a few details,” she confirmed.

“How?” he asked, gritting his teeth.

“There was a time when you trusted me, Spike,” she said quietly, seeing the anger simmering below the surface.

“I didn’t tell you anything beyond the basics,” he said in a low voice.

“It’s a big house,” she said, never looking away from his strong gaze. “And at that time, you didn’t know why I was here… part of the reason why I was here,” she corrected, looking away when his eyes narrowed.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” he asked, taking a step toward her, fighting the slight smile when she didn’t step away.

“Why do you think?” she replied, raising an eyebrow as he smirked at her.

“Didn’t want me locked up, love?”

“Do I really need to answer that?” she asked, closing her eyes when he approached her, wrapping his arms around her waist, gently nuzzling her neck and sending chills racing through her.

“Tell you what,” he murmured, his lips brushing over her pulse point. “You go back to daddy dearest…” Moving higher until his teeth were gently scraping over the scar that he had inflicted on her, “…And tell him…” Kissing her jaw before brushing his lips over hers, “…That I’m not interested.”

Buffy immediately went rigid in his arms, the fog that seemed to surround her beginning to lift as she pulled back to look at him in disbelief. “Spike…?”

“You heard me,” he said, using every ounce of strength that he possessed to step away from her. “I don’t want to be associated with them.”

“Spike, you go after Angelus on your own, and you’ll get arrested for murder,” she said, feeling short of breath. “What’s so bad about using the Bureau as a cover? You do everything the same, but here’s a novel idea- you don’t go to prison,” she said sarcastically.

“Not doing it, Buffy.”

“But we could be together,” she whispered, staring at the floor, not even knowing that she’d voiced her thoughts until she saw Spike look at her.

“We couldn’t,” he said, shaking his head slightly, trying to control his breathing when she looked up at him. “We’re too different.”

“And we’re exactly the same,” she said, gritting her teeth as she looked at him. “You’re the one who told me that.”

“Just doesn’t work that way, pet,” he said quietly. “This isn’t a fairytale.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she cried irritably. “You’re not exactly the night in shining armor in this scenario, Spike. You’re not even the guy who rides up to the rescue on a white horse.”

“Then why do you want me?” he asked, grabbing her arms in a harsh grip, pulling her close until she was intimately pressed against him.

“Because you’re you,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Because you can be a good man. I’ve seen it.”

“When?” he growled. “When have you seen it? When I was lying to you? When I practically raped you? When I pulled a gun on you?”

“I’ve lied to you more than you ever lied to me,” Buffy countered, taking a deep breath when she felt his hands tighten on her arms. “And I never said no when you tried to touch me. I always wanted you, Spike,” she said in a choked voice. “And as for the gun- you mean the fake one that you showed to Giles?” she asked, seeing the surprise on his face as he let her go and took a step away, turning away from her, unable to look into her eyes anymore. “Yeah,” she continued with a slight nod. “He told me. Now you tell me… why don’t you want to do this?”

“Don’t you get it?” he yelled, spinning around to face her, his nerves on edge. “I would lose everything. Everything, Buffy.”

“I don’t care about that,” she whispered harshly, trying to swallow the lump in her throat, wanting to make him see that she wasn’t there for his money or the power he had in certain circles.

“I do,” he said, trying not to let the tears that were shimmering in her eyes bother him.

“So that’s it?” she whispered breathlessly, turning her gaze toward the floor, unable to look into his eyes.

“I guess so,” he replied, fighting to keep the nonchalance in his tone and his expression when her gaze slowly raised to his.

Debating for a moment whether to follow her feminine instincts and let the tears free or take the high road, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before focusing on him once again.

“Enjoy your life, Spike… you’ve earned it,” she said graciously, seeing the confusion in his eyes. Taking a step forward, she slowly reached up, touching the back of his neck and guiding him lower, toward her. Hesitating for a moment, she brushed her lips against his, eliciting a soft sigh from him. Pulling back when he tried to deepen the kiss, she tried to suppress the whimper at the loss of contact. Taking a step back, needing the distance from him, Buffy looked up at him with sad eyes, trying to force a smile on her lips. “Goodbye…William.”

Turning around, she quickly left the room, needing to get out of his house as fast as possible.

Practically running through the huge foyer, she didn’t bother to look back, trying to blink away the tears in her eyes as she threw open the front door.

Never turning around to see the look of longing in Spike’s eyes.






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Chapter 32 – All Aboard


Spike stayed where he was, listening to the sound of Buffy’s car driving away, carrying her further away from him. Unable to move, he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his breathing and fighting everything inside of him to not run after her, begging her forgiveness.

“Strong man,” Ethan said, stepping into the room when the sounds of the car faded into the distance. “Letting a woman like that go.”

Turning toward the other man, Spike glowered at him. “Thought you didn’t like her, mate,” he replied, arching an eyebrow in response.

“Regardless of my personal feelings for her, I’ve seen who she truly is.”

“And who’s that?” Spike asked irritably.

“A woman in love,” he replied plainly, seeing Spike’s shoulders tense in response. “One who, coincidentally, isn’t after your money or what you can bring to her. Rarity in this town. Like I said- strong man to let her go.”

Avoiding Ethan’s gaze, Spike looked at the floor, taking a few deep breaths. “I could never make her happy,” he said, almost to himself.

“Guess we’ll never know,” Ethan replied, turning and walking out of the room.

* * * * *

Buffy walked into her house feeling numb. Her eyes were puffy and swollen from crying on the way home, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and wile away the hours until the pain receded.

Making it halfway up the stairs, she stopped when the shrill sound of the phone ringing filled the house. Briefly closing her eyes, she turned and walked back downstairs, grabbing the closest phone.

“Hello?”

“Miss Summers.”

Hearing the sound of the familiar accent, Buffy stiffened slightly, instinctively looking around her house in a protective maneuver.

“What do you want, Ethan?” she asked, her voice turning hard and cold in a matter of seconds.

“Tell Rupert that Spike will take the deal.”

Feeling the air leaving her lungs, Buffy grabbed the railing of the stairs, slowly lowering herself to one of the bottom steps. “He agreed?” she asked quietly.

“No,” Ethan replied. “I’m authorizing it. Head of security and all, and no one needs more security in this matter than William Reed. Tell Giles that I will sign any papers he needs as long as he has some form of back-up tomorrow night.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Buffy asked, knowing that Giles had never mentioned anything.

“Spike is going after Angelus. Alone.”

“Oh, God,” she murmured, feeling her stomach churn violently. “When?” she asked, running a hand through her hair.

“Twenty-four hours and change.”

“Ethan, if you want me to help him, I need an exact time and location,” she said, gritting her teeth in frustration.

“Two o’clock in the morning,” he replied. “An old warehouse in downtown Los Angeles… it belongs to Angelus, and he and Hamilton have plans to move some of the ‘merchandise’ that is located inside without being detected.”

“Just O’Neill and Hamilton?” Buffy asked, fisting the hand in her hair as her nerves continued to wreak havoc.

“The only ones who have been confirmed to me,” Ethan replied.

“How do you know this?”

“I have a contact… knows Angelus.”

“Who?” she asked, waiting impatiently for his answer. “Ethan, my phone is secure- it was checked recently… who?”

“Gunn.”

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Buffy nodded to herself. “I need to know how to get there.”

* * * * *

“And you’re sure he said yes?” Giles asked, seeing Buffy shift uncomfortably in the seat next to him as they drove toward downtown L.A.

“Yep, Spike’s onboard- full force,” she lied, swallowing hard as she thought about leaving him the night before.

“And he knows about the meeting tonight?” Giles asked.

“He… He should,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I couldn’t get in touch with him today.”

‘Another somewhat harmless white lie… I hope.’

“Buffy-”

“Giles, I know that you want something on paper. I know that you want everything to run smoothly. I know all of this, but please trust me- if Spike is able to get to Angelus before we do, everything will be taken care of.”

“I would feel more comfortable about this if you’d tell me the source of your information.”

“Then he wouldn’t be a source,” Buffy replied, looking out the window.

“So, the source is a ‘he’,” Giles said, seemingly proud of himself.

“Very good, Giles,” Buffy said with a smile. “You’ve just narrowed down my informant to roughly half of the world’s population.”

“It’s important that I know,” he said, ignoring her teasing.

“And I know you, Giles. If I tell you this before the fact, then there won’t be an after the fact.”

“Was that English?”

“No, it was American,” she said sarcastically, knowing that she couldn’t distract him that easily.

“I’m serious, Buffy, I want to know who it is. What if he’s a double agent?”

“Okay, but if I tell you this, I want you to promise that you won’t get all paternally father-like and Gilesy, okay?”

Glancing over at her, Giles heaved a deep sigh before nodding. “You have my word.”

“It’s Ethan Rayne.”

“What?!”

“You promised,” she reminded him.

“Buffy-”

“Giles, Ethan said he would handle everything. Head of security, remember?”

“I know who he is, Buffy.”

“He said that he would handle the paperwork, etcetera and so on. I think he’s worried about Spike.”

“He has practically raised him,” Giles muttered, almost to himself, seeing the woman next to him turn toward him in surprise.

“He has?”

“Well, no, not really,” Giles replied, not wanting to offer more information than that, but knowing Buffy wouldn’t allow him to ignore it. “He’s… influenced Spike.”

‘Molded him into who he wanted him to be.’ Buffy frowned at the thought.

“Ethan said Spike will go in alone. No outside help of any kind or it could get more dangerous,” she said, deciding it was time to change the subject. “You’ll be outside with the cavalry-”

“As will you,” Giles reminded her.

“Oh… right,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

“Buffy…”

Hearing the warning note in Giles’ voice, Buffy glanced at her boss, offering him a sheepish smile.

“You are not to go in that building for any reason, do you understand?”

“You know I can’t just sit outside, Giles,” she said, letting him hear the truth behind her words.

“That’s an order, Agent,” he replied, his voice getting colder.

“This is personal,” she said, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Just because Spike-”

“Not Spike,” she said, shaking her head. “Spike’s only a small part of it. Angelus,” she continued, clarifying it for the older man. “He took something from me, Giles. Something I can never get back.”

“We’re not in the revenge business, Buffy.”

“Well, maybe we should be!” she cried, her nerves setting her on edge. “He almost killed me. He killed my child-”

“We can’t just-”

“You’re right,” she said with a nod. “We can’t. But I’m not sitting outside while Spike might need some help. I’m not letting Angelus get away.”

Hearing the resolve in her voice, Giles sighed. “We’ll work something out when we get there,” he said, staring at the endless road that was stretched in front of them.

Smiling softly, Buffy’s shoulders relaxed as she nodded. “Thank you.”







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Chapter 33 – Date With Death


Slowly making her way across the catwalk to the other side of the warehouse, Buffy kept a close eye on all of the available exits. Every muscle was tensed and on edge as she prepared for anything, part of her expecting Angel to step in front of her, the other part anticipating it to be Spike.

Knowing that neither man was expecting her to be there, she tried not to think about how that doubled the risk for her.

“Anything?” she asked into her radio.

“Nothing on this end.”

“I don’t know where he is, Giles,” Buffy said, looking around, hating that her nerves were getting the best of her.

“You still have a few minutes, Buffy. And you can always back out-”

“Not backing out of this. Just make sure that we’re covered outside.”

“You are. And Buffy… be careful,” he warned.

Not bothering to respond, Buffy looked at her watch.

01:47:00

Thirteen minutes and counting.

She hated this.

She hated everything about it, and as she watched the seconds tick away, she could feel her anxiety mounting.

A few minutes before two o’clock, Buffy heard the distinctive squeak of the doors opening. Crouching behind a large crate in the corner of the upper level, she watched as Angelus and Hamilton walked into the area.

Frowning when she saw them, Buffy scanned the area, surprised that Spike wasn’t already in the building, waiting for a surprise attack. Shaking off her feelings and emotions, she turned back to the man who was obviously in charge. The man she had last seen limping away from her after the damage she had caused him. Smiling at that part of the memory, Buffy quietly stood, staying close to the wall as she made her way toward the ladder that was furthest away from the three men.

Slowly descending, Buffy froze when she heard the sound of the doors reopening. Looking around, she silently dropped the remaining feet, crouching low when she saw Spike walk in, seemingly calm, even as Hamilton pulled his gun on him.

‘Is he insane?’ she thought, watching Spike walk into the warehouse, seemingly without a care in the world.

“What’s the matter, Angel?” he asked with a smile. “Not happy to see me?”

“On the contrary,” Angelus replied with a smile. “I didn’t think you’d make it so easy to kill you. Marcus,” he said, turning toward the man next to him.

Buffy’s eyes widened when she Hamilton extract a second gun from his waistband, aiming them both at Spike. Acting purely on instinct, Buffy fired her gun, seeing Hamilton double over when the bullet entered his hip.

Spike’s eyes briefly darted over to where she was before closing the distance between himself and Angel, slamming his fist into the other man’s face.

“What’s the matter, Willie? Did I take a plaything of yours?” Angelus taunted, retaliating with an uppercut to the jaw as he spit blood out on the floor.

“You couldn’t take anything from me, even if you wanted to,” Spike growled, smashing another punch into his nose. “But you did hurt someone I care about,” he said, kicking the other man in the gut. “And for that…” punch “…you’re gonna suffer.”

Hitting him again, Spike was surprised that O’Neill wasn’t fighting back as strongly as he knew he could. The thought was formed when he felt a crack on the back of his head. Falling to the floor, he turned to see Hamilton, blood gushing from his hip, spilling onto the Armani suit. Reflexively pulling his gun, Spike emptied a round into Hamilton’s chest, aiming a well-placed kick to Angelus’ knee at the same time, dropping the other man to the floor.

Jumping up as Hamilton hit the ground, Spike saw the murderous look in O’Neill’s eyes as he pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants, aiming it at Spike. Hearing the shot ring out as a bullet sliced through the air, Spike’s eyes widened when Angelus’ arm snapped over with the momentum of the bullet. Seeing that it was only a graze on his arm, Spike slammed his fist into the other man’s face before jumping up and running to the back of the building.

Ducking behind a pile of crates, he crouched low to avoid retaliation by Angel as the bullets sliced through the air.

Buffy kept a close watch on him as she shrank back into the shadows. Moving farther away, she pressed a hand to her earpiece, hearing Giles’ voice.

“Buffy? Are you alright? Buffy!”

“I’m here,” he said, her voice quiet in spite of the gunfire.

“What’s happening?”

“Everything… it’s under control- just keep an eye on everything out there. Do not come in! Keep Angelus from getting out!”

Raising up slightly, Buffy fired once more, narrowly missing Angel’s arm, never realizing that she was drawing his fire to her, leaving Spike with an open opportunity to run past the gap in the crates and drop down next to her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Spike growled, ducking low when another bullet whizzed by his head, seeing the indignant expression on her face.

“Saving your ass- it’s what I do.”

Glowering at her for a moment, Spike quickly began returning fire.

“Get out of here!” he yelled, his eyes widening when she stood and took aim at Angel, hitting him in the collarbone.

Spike watched in appreciation as she easily slipped around the warehouse, approaching Angelus in his blind spot.

“Freeze!” she yelled, causing Angel’s gaze to dart over to her, giving Spike enough time to take aim at him. “You’re under arrest,” she continued, narrowing her eyes at the sadistic smile he gave her.

Buffy frowned when she didn’t see any blood pouring from where the wound should have been in his chest. ‘Damn it, should have known he’d come prepared,’ she thought, vaguely seeing the extra bulk of the bullet proof vest beneath his clothes.

“Look who finally grew a pair,” Angelus said, tilting his head slightly as Buffy slowly walked toward Spike, feeling more comfortable with strength in numbers.

“Never needed to,” she replied, arching an eyebrow in his direction. “I kicked your ass once- I could do it again.”

Buffy could practically hear Spike smiling beside her.

“Drop the gun,” she said calmly, moving her hand to her radio to call Giles for backup, her finger tightening on the trigger, aiming at his head, when Angel didn’t listen to her. “Last chance, O’Neill,” she said, gritting her teeth when he smiled at her.

“Last chance, huh?” he said, tilting his head to look at her.

Instinct kicked in when she saw Angelus aim at Spike- shoving him out of the way a split-second before the other man pulled the trigger.

The feeling of the bullet slicing through her caused Buffy’s body to jerk back, reflexively trying to get away from the pain.

Gasping in agony as she fell to the floor, Buffy was vaguely aware of the sound of more gunshots but couldn’t focus on them as she tried to breathe.

Seeing Angelus running for the back of the warehouse, Spike made a move to go after him, hoping that he’d hit him where he wasn’t covered with the armor at least once. Turning to look for Buffy, his eyes widened when he saw her lying on the floor, a pool of blood slowly spreading beneath her. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut- he vaguely saw a tear trailing down her cheek.

Nearly falling over himself as he ran toward her, he dropped to his knees next to her. Letting his gun fall to the floor, Spike immediately ripped off his shirt and pressed it to the gushing wound in her shoulder.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered, his jaw clenching as he tried to fight the tears in his eyes when she unconsciously arched her back off the floor, fighting off the pain. “It’s okay… you’ll be fine. Stay with me, Buffy.”

Running one hand through her hair as the other put pressure on her shoulder, he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the sirens outside of the building. He never thought he’d be so grateful for the cops showing up.

“Buffy?”

Turning at the sound of Rupert Giles’ voice, Spike couldn’t say anything as the older man ran over to kneel next to them. Quickly calling the EMTs, he gave them their location before turning to Spike.

“What happened?”

“Angelus,” Spike replied, never taking his eyes off of Buffy.

“I know that much,” Giles snapped.

“Well, do you have him?” Spike retaliated, gritting his teeth before focusing on the woman in his arms.

“We’re working on it.”

Looking at Giles in disbelief for a moment, Spike pulled Buffy closer when he heard her moan softly. “You’ll be okay, love,” he whispered, hoping that she knew he was there as he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Can’t let anything happen to you.”







Thanks so much to: Cynthia, spuffette, Uncaged Muse, Cordykitten, Suzee, Chelsea, jenny, Whitelighter354, Franchesca, Melissa, demona424, Brittany, H, baby spikes, Elanor, flibble, Caitie, Kimber, Crystal Pegasus, vero1020, Wikka Tara, aj, Opal, txjmfan, Jessica, Addy, BuffyandSpikeForever & willowmouse for reviewing!

Chapter 34 – Moment of Truth


Buffy’s eyes squeezed together more firmly as she slowly became aware of the pain that was radiating through her shoulder. Hearing the distant beep of hospital equipment and the muffled sound of activity on the other side of the door, she attempted to gather the courage to open her eyes.

Knowing that everything would come back to her with perfect clarity when she did so, Buffy slowly blinked, taking in the hospital room. A distinct feeling of déjà vu when she saw Giles sitting beside her, noticing her at the same moment that she noticed him.

“Buffy,” he said in a relieved voice. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” she said dryly, wincing as she tried to shift her shoulder. “Not the pleasure cruise you would expect.”

Smiling slightly, Giles took a deep breath, obviously trying to come to terms with the fact that she was okay.

“Here’s a novel idea,” Buffy said, breathing a little heavier to attempt to alleviate that shooting pains that ran through her arm and chest. “How about I actually complete a mission and don’t have to check into a hospital.”

Smiling as the fighter in her seemed to prevail, Giles nodded. “Let’s hope this is the last time.”

“Angelus is still out there, isn’t he?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject as every memory seemed to slam into her at the same time.

“He is,” Giles confirmed, seeing her jaw tighten in response.

“Damn it,” she muttered, restlessly hitting the mattress, wincing when the motion immediately jarred her injured shoulder. Looking over at Giles, her expression grew even more solemn. “And Spike?”

“Was the first to get to you,” Giles admitted grudgingly.

“No… I figured that… where is he now?”

* * * * *

Pacing around the waiting room of the hospital, Spike anxiously tapped the box of cigarettes against his open palm, not willing to leave the room in case there was any news on Buffy’s condition.

Rupert’s words still haunting him with every step he took.

“You are to stay here. If she wants to see you, I’ll let you know, but I’m not going to run the risk of you upsetting her when she wakes up.”

He knew that he should have left. Should have walked right out of the hospital the second that he knew Buffy would be okay and never look back. But Rupert’s voice wasn’t the only thing that haunted him.

The image of his red shirt stained a darker crimson as Buffy’s blood seeped into the fabric was enough to tie his stomach into knots all over again.

Running a hand through his hair as he exhaled loudly, Spike irritably continued his pacing, never noticed when Giles walked into the room.

“She’s asking for you.”

The cold tone of voice immediately drew Spike’s attention to him. His eyes widened when he realized that he would actually get to see her – and that it was Buffy who wanted him in her room.

Not bothering to respond, Spike nodded, wordlessly walking past the older man and down the overly bright and sterile hallway. Soundlessly slipping into her room and shutting the door behind him, Spike became transfixed as he watched Buffy. Her eyes were unfocused as she looked at the crystal vase that was overflowing with vibrant red roses.

“They’re beautiful,” she said quietly, never turning to face him, instinctively knowing who was in her room.

“You like them?” Spike asked, taking a small step forward in an effort to bridge the invisible gap between them.

“As much as I liked the last vase you sent,” she said quietly, turning toward him- finally raising her eyes to his. “That was you… right?”

“It was,” he said, nodding slightly. Spike gave her a hesitant smile, finally relaxing when she reached for him. Closing the distance between them, he carefully took her hand in his, eyeing the sling that adorned her other arm, encasing her arm and keeping her shoulder as immobile as possible.

“What were you doing there, Buffy?” he asked, staring into her eyes as she gave him a weak smile.

“Saving your ass, remember? It’s what I do,” she replied lightly.

“I’m serious,” Spike said, his brow furrowing as he watched her smile fade away.

“I was being serious,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes as he registered what she’d said.

Offering her a slight smile, Spike hesitantly pressed a kiss to her forehead, seeing Buffy look up at him in shock. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” she asked, her voice taking on a slightly breathless quality as she stared into his eyes.

“For loving me that much,” he replied, tilting his head slightly as he brushed the hair away from her cheeks, letting his fingertips trail along her skin for the briefest of seconds.

“Who said anything about love?” she asked, guarding her expression against him as his movements paused.

“Don’t turn into the coy, shy woman now, Buffy,” he said in a teasing voice. “It doesn’t become you.”

“It was never me,” she whispered, almost to herself. “You never knew me.”

“You don’t believe that,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Or I wouldn’t be standing here right now… or maybe that’s what you want.”

Unable to say anything, Buffy continued to stare at the dingy blanket that covered her lower body, avoiding Spike’s strong gaze.

Misreading her reaction, Spike slowly pulled away from her, taking a step back. “Nice knowing you, Summers,” he said in a low voice that held no malice toward her before turning away from her.

“Stop right there,” Buffy said as he reached for the doorknob.

“I should leave,” he muttered, twisting the knob.

“You owe me,” she replied, her voice coming out stronger than she expected.

Turning to look over his shoulder, Spike took a deep breath, seeing the determination in her eyes as she moved to sit up, flinching from the obvious pain that spread through her when she slightly moved her shoulder. “I shouldn’t be here, Buffy,” he said after a moment, looking at the floor.

“I took a bullet for you,” she said, her soft words practically cutting into him. “I almost died for you,” she continued, never taking her gaze away from him. “You owe me ten minutes.”

Taking a deep breath as he looked at the ceiling, Spike gritted his teeth. “Bollocks,” he muttered to himself, knowing what this was going to boil down to. “Moment of truth, is it?”

“I think I deserve that much,” Buffy replied, tightening her lips when he looked at her.

“You’re a smart girl,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure you’ve figured out a lot of it.”

“That Ethan and Giles were a little chummier than expected? That Giles seems to have some kind of trust in you, even if he buries it beneath the hate? That you seem to know an awful lot about both sides of the field?” she continued, tilting her head to study him. “There’s a back-story to you, William Reed, and I intend to find that out. No more of this good guy/bad guy crap. I want the truth. I think I’ve earned it. Fill in the blanks.”

Falling into the chair next to the bed, Spike wearily ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily.

Just when Buffy was about to question him again, he spoke.

“I was a stupid kid,” he muttered, never tearing his gaze away from the floor. “A right prat. Always had everything I ever wanted- never questioned it. Never questioned that I could get it,” he added with a dry laugh. “And when asking became too easy, stealing gave me a rush. Anything I could get away with- small stuff from drugstores, escalating to valuable paintings and antiques.”

“You were a thief from the get-go,” Buffy said, seeing his eyes finally raise to hers.

“Up until my early twenties,” he said with a nod.

“What?” she asked in surprise.

“I got caught. Or… noticed.”

“Noticed?” Buffy repeated in confusion.

“An FBI Agent,” he continued, leaning back in the chair to look at her. “Saw the potential in me.”

“You were an agent?” Buffy murmured, feeling short of breath.

Spike continued to look at her, not needing to confirm anything.

“W-what…? What happened?” she finally asked, her voice choking around the words.

“Got bored,” Spike replied with a shrug.

“So… you quit the honest job to become a fulltime art thief?” she asked in confusion, seeing the slight smile on his face.

“Something like that, yeah. You see, I picked up a lot of tricks from the few years I was in the Bureau. In time, I surpassed my mentor and felt I needed a new challenge. He was inclined to agree.”

“Your mentor…? Ethan,” Buffy whispered, her eyes widening in understanding, remembering Giles words from only hours earlier.

“He’s… influenced Spike.”

“Left the nine-to-five gig in pursuit of better things. Of course, the official word was that I put in for early retirement. It was believable- I was always living off of the family money and the job was never anything more than a hobby. I’d learned enough to become more efficient in my chosen profession. Ethan somehow knew what I was up to. Wanted a taste of the dark side and followed me.”

“This isn’t Star Wars,” Buffy said, her brows furrowing as she leaned more heavily against the pillows behind her.

“There’s a dark path in every form of life, Buffy. It’s up to you whether you take it or not,” Spike finished in a sharp whisper. “I trust that you can fill in the blanks from there.”

“You’ve said enough,” she replied, taking a deep breath. “And that’s why you didn’t want to take Giles’ deal when I came to you? Why you said you’d lose everything?”

“If I were to work with the Feds, the contacts I’ve made over the last few years would think that I was a double agent. So, yeah, I would have lost everything, except material possessions.”

“And the recognition means more to you than anything,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment before turning to look at him with a blank expression. “More than me.”

“It’s not that easy, love.”

“Oh, I think it’s exactly that easy, Mr. Reed,” she countered, taking a deep breath to control her anger before cocking her head to the side. “Or do you prefer Agent Reed? You seemed to enjoy calling me that when you confronted me. Seems only fitting that the tables have turned.”

“Don’t do this, pet.”

“You selfish bastard.”

“Buffy-”

“You jump all over me for the fact that I was an agent and yet you knew exactly what I was going through! You knew! You are such a hypocrite,” she spat out, growing more frustrated as the calm mask stayed firmly in place. “You put me through hell. You’ve indirectly put me in the hospital twice. You’ve blown my cover on a major case and you’re still standing there without a care in the world.”

“It’s not-”

“-like that?” Buffy filled in, clenching her jaw. “It never is, is it, Spike? Because that’s the way of the world. Everything is all well and fine until you get bitten in the ass and then, guess what? It’s time for the blame game.”

Closing her eyes, Buffy battled the tears in her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Hearing Spike move to the door, her shoulders shook slightly while she repressed her sobs, ignoring the pains that shot up and down her arm as a result. “What was real?” she whispered as he walked away from her, repeating the question he had asked her so long ago.

Opening the door, Spike glanced over his shoulder, seeing her looking so frail and broken on the bed, wanting nothing more than to reach out to her. “You and me,” he replied, clenching his jaw to restrain his own tears before walking out the door. “Always you and me.”

Chapter 35 – Sweet Agony


‘How did I get here?’ Buffy asked herself, pressing her forehead against the door in front of her. ‘Why did it have to be me?’

Standing up a little straighter, she stared unseeingly at Spike’s house. She had no idea what had led to this moment. One moment she was in the hospital and the next, she was staring at his front door. Of course, there had been the moment when Giles had told her that the only way she could come back to work was if she told Spike that he had been exonerated.

She had no idea why he had chosen her. She had no idea why she had to do this in person when a phone call would have completed her job. And she really had no idea why she’d spent nearly two hours trying to decide what to wear.

Now, dressed in a pale pink sundress with a gauzy white sweater, Buffy adjusted the sling around her shoulder, clearing her throat before knocking on the door. It was a planned move. If someone was close enough to hear her, they would answer- otherwise she could leave and pretend like she’d never been there.

Nearly groaning when the door opened, Buffy looked up to see Ethan Rayne staring back at her.

“I need to speak to Mr. Reed,” she said, deciding that pointless formalities would be lost on both of them.

“He’s unavailable at the moment.”

Pushing open the door with a heavy sigh, Buffy walked into the mansion. “I know he probably told you to say that if and when I decided to show up, but this will just take a few minutes.”

“He told me no such thing,” Ethan replied, glancing around the foyer. “It’s a simple fact. Spike is indisposed at the moment.”

“Believe me, no one wants to believe this crap that you’re trying to pull with me more than I do. I wish for nothing other than to turn around and walk away from here without ever looking back, but I don’t have time for this,” Buffy said, walking toward the back of the house.

“Miss Summers-”

“Ethan, I’ll be out of here before you know it,” she tossed over her shoulder. “Trust me,” she muttered to herself.

Pushing open the door to the dining room, wanting to take a shortcut to his office, Buffy froze when she saw Spike sitting at the head of the table. Feeling her throat close up and her heart pounding, she opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to choke out any words.

Seeing the petite blonde sitting next to him, noticing the passing physical resemblance to herself, Buffy tried to think of something to say.

“Buffy?”

Her name was spoken in surprise as Spike stood up from his seat.

“What are you doing here, love?”

Tearing her gaze away from the woman who was obviously his date, Buffy briefly tightened her lips, trying to control her emotions. “I had some news for you. Business,” she clarified.

“Right,” he muttered, looking at the floor, trying to think of something to diffuse the uncomfortable situation. “Uh… Buffy Summers, meet Darla Masterson.”

Nodding at the woman, Buffy turned and left the room, intent on telling Ethan that he could pass on her news to Spike, wanting nothing more than to get out of the house. Quickly walking toward the front of the house, she gasped when she felt her uninjured arm grabbed in a harsh grip before she was dragged into the living room.

“Buffy, that… I… It wasn’t…”

“You don’t owe me any explanations,” she said, taking a deep breath as she stared at the floor.

“I know, I just… what are you doing here?”

“Two reasons,” she murmured, her chin quivering when Spike hooked his finger beneath it and guided her gaze back to his.

“And they are?” he asked gently.

“I owe you an apology,” she said, nearly choking on the words. It wasn’t easy for her to admit when she was wrong, but he deserved that much- even in light of recent developments. “In the hospital… I never really stopped to think about anything. Yes, you hid a lot of things from me, but I did the same to you and I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Looking at the floor with a guilty expression on his face, Spike nodded before forcing himself to look into her eyes again. “And the other?”

“You’re exonerated,” she said, looking anywhere but at him. “Seems that saving the life of an agent put you on the Bureau’s good side.”

“Saving your…? I didn’t save you, Buffy, you saved me.”

Finally looking up into his eyes, Buffy tried to disguise the pain she was feeling, knowing that Spike wouldn’t be fooled. “That’s not the way I remember it,” she said quietly.

“Buffy, I-”

“You tried to get me out of the way, Mr. Reed,” she said, her face nothing but a blank expression. “When you couldn’t get me to safety, you took care of me until the paramedics arrived. That’s the way I remember it.”

“That’s not what…” Trailing off when he realized what Buffy was doing, Spike’s eyes widened in shock. “You lied to them?”

“I told them a version of the truth.”

“That a fact?” Spike replied, tilting his head to study her.

“A version that you wouldn’t have hesitated to make a reality,” she said, swallowing hard when he narrowed his eyes on her.

“You sure about that?”

Looking into his eyes for a moment, she slowly nodded. “I am.”

“Nice to know one of us is,” he muttered, taking a deep breath.

“I should go,” she murmured after a moment, walking toward the door.

“Buffy, wait!”

Stopping but refusing to turn toward him, Buffy closed her eyes, trying to bite back the pain that was searing through her heart. “What?” she asked, her eyes widening when Spike grabbed her and spun her around to face him.

“Do you still love me?”

Buffy’s eyes widened in disbelief. As if she was about to bare her soul when he had a date in the next room? “No,” she said in a voice that held more conviction than she felt. “I don’t know if I ever did.”

“That’s a lie,” he said in a low voice, his eyes boring into hers. “You know it.”

Looking down at the floor, Buffy took a deep breath before turning toward the door, gasping when she felt her Spike grab her arms and spin her around, slamming her into the wall in the process and jarring her shoulder until a sharp pain was coursing through her body.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re not walking away from this,” he said in a low voice.

“No,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I think we both walked away about the same time.” Buffy could feel her heart pounding as Spike closed the distance between them until his lips were nearly touching hers.

“I wasn’t the one who started this,” he said, his voice taking on a silky tone. “You initiated everything, Buffy. From the start of the relationship to how far it went… it was always you.”

“It was you who made me walk away,” Buffy countered, not backing down as he continued to stare at her.

“I did,” he admitted with a slight nod. “But it didn’t change how I felt about you.”

Knowing that he was waiting for her to make the first move, Buffy’s chin trembled as she moved closer to him, hesitantly brushing her lips against his. Feeling his hands reach up to cup her face, a silent sob shook her body as she held onto him.

“Spike?”

Breaking away at the sound of the voice, Buffy turned away when Darla entered the room.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Opening his mouth to respond, his eyes widened when Buffy pushed past him and left the room. “I’ll be right there,” he said, waving her back into the dining room before chasing after Buffy.

Catching her before she could reach the door, Spike caught her hand, suddenly grateful that she didn’t have use of her other arm at the moment when she swung around to face him, knowing that he otherwise would have had a bloody nose at that moment.

“She’s a business contact, that’s all,” he said, knowing he would only get one explanation for this and he better make it good and let her know that he wasn’t lying. “My associates just thought it would be a good idea to get on better terms with her.”

“Yeah, a date in your house with your bed one floor away is a good way to better the terms,” Buffy snapped, turning to open the front door, gritting her teeth when Spike slammed his hand against the surface, keeping her in the house.

“That’s not what’s happening here.”

“No?” Buffy asked, spinning around to face him. “So you’re not on a dinner date with a woman who could prove to be a valuable commodity for your next job?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Staring at her for a moment, Spike briefly closed his eyes. “I can understand the jealousy-”

“I’m not jealous!”

“-but besides the fact that she’s a woman, what’s the problem?” he continued as if he’d never heard her.

Looking at the sling on her arm, Buffy slowly directed her gaze back to Spike. “After everything I’ve gone through for you,” she said, breathing deeply. “After everything I… this is how you show your gratitude?”

“Buffy… what?”

“You’ve been exonerated from everything you ever did,” she said, trying to make him understand. “You have a fresh slate… and you’re still not willing to use it. I have a bullet wound in my arm, a murderer who wouldn’t mind making me his next victim - after a very long torture session, I’m sure - and you still… you still don’t get it,” she whispered, hiding the tears in her eyes as she looked at the floor.

“I told you-”

“You didn’t want to work with the FBI,” she said, pushing the tears away as her anger came to the forefront. “Well, guess what? You didn’t. You helped an agent and because of that, the Bureau was grateful… I was grateful.” Tears filled her eyes as she continued to stare at him. “I don’t know you,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t think I ever did.”

Seeing her turn away from him, Spike felt panicked as he moved to grab her again. “Don’t leave it like this, Buffy, please. We can-”

“Spike.”

“What is it?” he growled, turning to face Ethan.

“I have some news that is rather urgent.”

Feeling Buffy tense and pull away from him, Spike turned back to her, silently pleading that she stay for a few more minutes, even as she opened the door.

“Better see to your business,” she said in a cold voice. “Duty calls.”

Feeling a sense of loss that he was becoming all too familiar with, Spike listened to the sound of her car starting a moment later, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves before turning to face Ethan. “This better be good.”

“It is,” the other man said, his tone of voice letting him know just how serious the situation was. “I’ve just gotten word that someone has arrived in town for yet another appearance.”

Spike’s eyes darkened as he clenched his fists. “Angelus.”





Thanks so much to: spuffette, demona424, Miski, Annette, Wendy, Whitelighter354, DanAnn, Jessica, Tahmoe, Franchesca, Brittany, Livia, dev, baby spikes, Cordykitten, Noelle, cas, kim, H, BuffyandSpikeForever, Dee, Jennybean, Caitie, txjmfan, flibble, willowmouse & Chelsea for reviewing!

Chapter 36 – Duty Calls


Gingerly testing her shoulder, Buffy threw the sling into a corner of her bedroom, hating the restraining piece of cloth more with each passing day. She hated feeling helpless with the sling hindering her movements. The pain that still resided from the gunshot wound left her with a constant reminder- don’t get too close.

Spike’s words from the day before served as a reminder to her as well. They haunted her.

“I wasn’t the one who started this. You initiated everything, Buffy. From the start of the relationship to how far it went… it was always you.”

He had been right. She was the one who asked him to take her to bed. She was the one who went after him and lost sight of her goal. She fell in love.

Determined to get back to the way she used to be – needing the hard edge she once had – Buffy knew she had to get back to basics. Knowing what that entailed, she walked through her room, idly picking up the few possessions that were sitting out before she began searching through the drawers of her dresser. Pulling out a pair of running pants and a sports bra, she stopped when she saw an envelope at the bottom of the drawer.

Buffy frowned as she opened it, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the pictures inside. Flipping through them, her chin trembled, seeing candid shots of her and Spike together. None of them were posed, but the way they were standing obviously showed their love for each other.

Staring at one in particular, Buffy studied it for a long moment. She knew these were surveillance photos, but she couldn’t bring herself to be mad about it. The image that was captured seemed to silently describe who they really were. Taken the night of one of his dinner parties, Spike’s arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, his head bent toward her as Buffy whispered something into his ear. Both were smiling, lost in each other.

The picture seemed to encapsulate one side of their relationship that had been so real.

Buffy didn’t have to wonder how the pictures had gotten there. She knew Spike had left them at some point. She wasn’t sure if he had placed them there before or after they went their separate ways, but it didn’t seem important. He’d left her with something more tangible than the memories she carried with her and to some small extent, she was grateful.

Clearing her throat to try and fight back her emotions, she walked to her closet, shoving the pictures in a bag on the floor before turning and walking out of the room. Moving to the bedroom at the back of the house that she had long ago converted into a gym, Buffy quickly changed into the pants and sports bra, wanting to work off some tension.

Turning on the stereo, Buffy stepped onto the treadmill, starting with a warm-up jog. Working her way up to a run, she winced as the jarring movements of her running continuously shifted her shoulder a bit. Forcing herself to make it through the pain, Buffy breathed heavily as she continued running.

Hearing the sound of the phone ringing, Buffy slowed down to a walk before hopping off of the machine. Grabbing the cordless extension in the room, she tried to regulate her breathing before answering.

“Buffy?”

“Yeah, Giles?” she asked, picking up her water bottle and taking a long drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just exercising,” she said, feeling her heart rate returning to normal.

“You need to-”

“No fatherly lectures, please, Giles,” she said, cutting him off as she smiled. “I’m just doing a little bit of running.”

“It’s only been a little over a week- you need to take it easy,” he said, clearly ignoring her.

Looking at the ace bandage that was tightly wrapped around her shoulder, puffed out slightly from the thick bandage that covered her wound beneath it, Buffy flexed it slightly, cringing at the pain. “I’ll be okay,” she said after a moment. “No need to worry.”

“Actually… there’s a very pressing reason to worry.”

“Uh oh,” Buffy muttered, walking over to one of the machines in the room and sitting down. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“I sincerely doubt it,” he replied.

“Okay… hit me. What’s the next big apocalypse?” she joked, her smile fading when Giles didn’t answer right away. “Giles? You might as well tell me- the silent treatment isn’t helping here.”

“O’Neill is in town.”

“Oh, fun!” Buffy said with fake enthusiasm as her head fell forward into the palm of her hand. “Where is he?” she asked, her voice taking on a much graver tone.

“We’re looking for him.”

“You’re…? Then how do you know he’s even in town?” she asked in confusion. “I mean, if you haven’t see him…”

“We were tipped off,” Giles answered.

“And by the tone of your voice, you know the source.”

“I do.”

“Giles, don’t play this game with me. If Angelus is in town, I need to know everything. I want every advantage I can have.”

“Spike called me.”

Waiting for more to be said, Buffy bit her lip when it was obvious that Giles wouldn’t be offering any other information.

“I need to go,” she whispered in a choked voice.

“Buffy-”

Hanging up the phone before Giles could say anything else, Buffy quickly dialed the familiar number with trembling hands. Closing her eyes when she heard Ethan’s voice, Buffy tried to control her breathing. “Ethan, I need to talk to Spike.”

“Miss Summers-”

“And don’t give me any of your bullshit!” she cried, her nerves on edge as she stood up and walked toward one of the windows in the room, looking out at the setting sun. “Get him on the damn phone.”

Listening to the sound Ethan walking through the house, Buffy could barely make out the muffled voices before the familiar voice spoke to her.

“Buffy?”

“Thanks for telling me,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I really appreciate the warning.”

Spike sighed. “Giles called you?”

“Yeah. Apparently my boss cares more about my well-being than the man who…” Trailing off in a choked voice, Buffy took a deep breath, needing to pull herself together. “You know what? Never mind.”

Hanging up the phone, she slowly walked through the room, sitting down on a nearby bench-seat. “Get it together,” she muttered, jumping when the phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, Buffy was tempted to let it ring.

‘Let him stress out for awhile,’ she thought, sighing after a moment before answering the phone.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Spike said, sounding surprisingly genuine. “I should have told you, I just didn’t want to worry you if you didn’t need to know.”

“Yeah, because if Angelus was trying to kill me in my sleep, when I didn’t know he was in town, my stress factor would be way down,” she said sarcastically.

“I was doing what I thought was best.”

“Well, let me let you in on a little secret- you don’t know what’s best for me. You never did.”

Buffy frowned when Spike laughed.

“Nice to know you believe that, love.”

“I’m serious, Spike,” she said with an edge to her tone.

“Say it like you mean it,” he replied in a teasing voice.

“Stop it,” Buffy said, nearly hitting the wall in frustration. “Just stop it.”

Spike sighed heavily. Buffy could practically see him gritting his teeth and looking at the ceiling. Shaking her head to clear it of the disturbing thoughts, she tried to forget that she knew him so well.

“I miss you,” he said quietly, causing Buffy’s breath to catch in her throat at the soft admission.

“No, you don’t,” she said in a voice that surprised even her. “Stop doing this.”

“Doing what?” he asked in exasperation.

“This hot and cold routine that you’ve got going on! I hate it, Spike. You can’t make a decision and stick with it. You could have had me and you threw that chance away… more than once. Now that… I’m guessing you’re bored again, you want to play this game and…”

“I’m not the only one who’s doing this, Buffy,” he said quietly.

Running a hand over her face, she sighed in soft acceptance. “You’re right,” she whispered with a sigh. “You’re right,” she repeated with more conviction. “And… and I just can’t take it anymore.”

“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice taking on a nervous quality.

“This is too hard, Spike,” she whispered, fighting the tears in her eyes. “We need to stop… whatever this is.”

“Buffy-”

“I just can’t-”

“Well… isn’t that sweet.”

Buffy felt her blood run cold at the sound of the voice behind her. Feeling short of breath, she turned around, her jaw tightening when she saw the brunette standing in the doorway.

“Buffy? Buffy! Who’s there?”

Unable to answer Spike, she maintained eye contact with the man, frozen in place.

“Hello, lover.”





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Chapter 37 – Conviction


“Hang up the phone, Buffy,” Angelus said, slowly approaching her.

“Buffy-”

“Spike,” she murmured, cutting off whatever he was about to say. “I love you.”

“No! Don’t you say it like that… Buffy!”

Clicking off the phone, she held it firmly in her hand, watching Angelus carefully as he continued to advance on her. “Took you long enough,” she said, keeping an indifferent look on her face. “Want to catch the sights while you were in town?”

“Just thought I’d let you stew in your own nerves for a while.”

“Nerves?” Buffy replied with an easy smile. “I don’t see how I can be nervous about kicking your ass again.”

Angelus’ expression darkened as his breathing quickened. “You weren’t exactly looking so hot yourself, princess,” he said before looking her up and down with an appraising eye. “Although, now is a different story,” he said, his eyes lingering on the outlining swell of her breasts beneath the sports bra. “Might have to sample the goods before I dispose of them.”

“In your dreams,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, the phone still held tightly in her hand.

“Had quite a few of those,” he replied with a smirk.

“They can die with you.”

“You’re so cute when you get all determined,” he said in a patronizing voice. With a cold smile he continued walking around her in a slow circle. “It’s nice that you think so highly of your skills as a fighter that you might actually be able to pull one over on me.”

“I have no intention to pull one over on you, Angel,” Buffy replied in a sweet voice. “You’re going to know exactly what hits you.”

“Just like you did,” he said in a menacing whisper, leaning close to her. “How did it feel?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her. “How did it feel knowing your life could be taken from you at any moment?”

“I’ve never known that feeling. How does it feel for you, right now?”

Narrowing his eyes at her smart-aleck reply, Angelus stood up a little straighter. “You always were my favorite.”

“Favorite?” Buffy repeated skeptically.

“Favorite agent,” he clarified. “The others weren’t nearly as fun.”

“This is a beautiful moment we’re having- can we please fight?” she asked dryly.

“I don’t wanna fight,” Angelus said, once again slowly approaching Buffy as she raised an eyebrow.

“No?” she replied skeptically.

“No, I thought we could get back together,” he said, suppressing the smile on his lips.

“Like you ever had a shot with me,” she said, smirking as his eyes darkened.

“I have one right now,” Angelus replied, letting her know what kind of shot he was talking about. Buffy didn’t need to see a gun to know that he was armed. “And I’m in a generous mood,” he whispered, leaning in close to her, smiling when Buffy didn’t step away. “So if you want to run, I’ll give you a ten-second head start.”

Not backing down, Buffy looked up at him with a cold expression. “I don’t run from things that don’t scare me,” she replied, nearly smiling when his eyes narrowed on her.

“Be careful, Buff. Our last two meetings didn’t exactly end in your favor.”

“I seem to remember you looking like shit by the time you were able to limp away from those meetings,” she said, not showing how uncomfortable she was with having him mere inches away from her. “You don’t scare me, Angelus. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a man. I should have killed you when you least expected it, but no, I had to have some ridiculous idea that a fair fight was the only way to go. Guess what, lover?” she whispered, leaning even closer to him until her lips were nearly touching his. “I’m over it.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Buffy slammed a punch into his jaw, sending his head sailing back with a snap. Not giving him a chance to recover, she landed a well-placed kick to his knee, using the hand with the phone in it to smash another punch into his nose, trying to ignore the explosion of pain that was traveling from her shoulder down the side of her body.

Angelus reeled back, catching himself on one of the machines. “You’re gonna wish you’d never done that,” he said in a low voice, looking at her with a murderous gaze.

“You know,” she said, slightly winded as she smiled at him. “I really hate it when men dish it out but can’t take it.”

Moving to punch him again, Buffy struggled when Angelus caught her fist in his hand, landing a hit of his own that sent her falling back. Quickly recovering, Buffy spun around, kicking him in the stomach.

Slowly losing the advantage after what felt like hours but was just moments, Buffy breathed heavily, trying to prepare for his next attack.

Each continued trading blows. Buffy felt her body growing weaker, moderately proud of herself for lasting as long as she had with her shoulder sending rivulets of pain through her body with each small movement. Cringing when she was knocked to the ground, her head connecting with one of the weight machines, Buffy dazedly looked up at Angelus’ smiling face as he stood above her. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the gun he was pointing at her.

“Say goodnight, bitch,” he growled.

Seeing his finger tighten on the trigger, Buffy’s breath caught in her throat seconds before slamming her foot into his stomach. Jumping to her feet with a surge of adrenaline, she gave him a high kick to the head, successfully dropping him to the floor. Walking over to him as he tried to sit up, Buffy glared at the man before her, lifting one of the weights off its stand. “Goodnight, bitch,” she said, slamming iron into his face, allowing a small sense of satisfaction when he fell to the ground.

Spinning around in fighting stance at the sound of someone running through the door, Buffy dropped the weight in her hand, never hearing it fall to the floor as she looked into Spike’s eyes.

The two stayed where they were, staring at each other as if they hadn’t seen the other in years. Slowly surveying the mess in the room, Spike’s jaw tightened when he looked at Angelus lying on the floor.

“Is he dead?” he asked, never tearing his eyes away from the other man.

“God, I hope so,” Buffy whispered, feeling as if her strength was draining out of her while Spike leaned over and picked up Angelus’ gun, setting it far out of reach, just in case. “How did you get here so fast?” she asked, wincing at the tiniest movement of her shoulder.

“A lot of people will need to redo their landscaping.”

Buffy managed a tearful smile before throwing herself into Spike’s arms. “You came,” she whispered, burying her head in his chest as his arms banded around her in a tight grip, making her think that nothing could get to her. “You came for me.”

Spike closed his eyes, dropping his head to her shoulder, leaving a soft kiss in his wake. “No one hurts my girl.” Looking over her shoulder to make sure Angelus’ still form was remaining immobile, he smiled. “Obviously,” he added as an afterthought, tightening his hold on Buffy, pausing when he heard her whimper. “Let me look at you,” he whispered, pulling back to cup her face in his hands.

Running his thumb over the area that he knew would be bruised in a few hours, Spike gently touched her skin, the cut on her forehead, her hair. Anything to reassure himself that she was okay. No longer worried about the formalities and what his feelings for her might mean for him, he took comfort in the fact that she was standing in front of him. His hands slid beneath her hair, lightly clasping behind her neck. Unable to resist any longer, he closed the distance between them, brushing a tender kiss to her lips.

Buffy trembled as he deepened the kiss, feeling the tears spilling down her cheeks. Her eyes stayed closed when Spike pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered in a choked voice, the double meaning of his statement not lost on her.

Buffy opened her mouth to respond before her eyes snapped over to the door at the sound of footsteps downstairs.

“It’s Giles,” Spike said in a reassuring voice, waiting until she relaxed before continuing. “I called him on my way over.”

“Buffy!”

Turning at the sound of her name, Buffy offered Giles a weak smile, wearily resting her head against Spike’s chest. “I’m alright, Giles,” she said, looking from her surrogate father to the man holding her. “I’m alright.”

* * * * *

“Damn it, that hurts!” Buffy cried, glaring at the EMT who was attempting to re-stitch her shoulder.

“It’s not supposed to hurt,” he informed her. “I’ve given you enough drugs to dull the pain.”

“Really? Well, why don’t I shoot you in the arm, reopen the wound after that and then stick a needle and thread through your skin and see how hot you feel?”

Spike leaned against the side of the ambulance, smirking as Buffy snapped at the young man.

“I’m doing the best I can,” he said irritably.

Gritting her teeth, Buffy rested her head against the ambulance, closing her eyes in an attempt to dull the pain in her arm. Reopening them a moment later when she felt a warm hand cover hers, she looked at Spike gratefully, breathing a little easier when he gently squeezed her hand. Staring into his eyes for a long moment, Buffy was surprised when the ache of her shoulder seemed to ease.

“Done,” the technician said, repacking his supplies.

“Thanks,” Buffy mumbled, breaking eye contact with Spike as she pushed herself to her feet.

“You feeling alright, love?” he asked, noticing her grimace of pain.

“Yeah,” she murmured, nodding slightly, refusing to look at him. “I’m okay.”

“Buffy, may I have a word with you?” Giles asked, approaching her.

“I’ll be right back,” she said to Spike, following her boss to a remote area so that they could talk without interruptions.

“Angelus is dead.”

“Figured as much,” Buffy replied, breathing a sigh of relief.

“And as for certain new… developments, I’m not sure if they’re particularly wise,” he continued, glancing in Spike’s direction.

“Maybe they are and maybe they’re not,” she said, lifting her uninjured shoulder in a meager shrug. “But it’s my life and… it’s something I need to do,” she said, her eyes silently pleading with him to understand.

“I do wish you’d reconsider,” he said with a sigh.

“I need to do this, Giles,” she said, trying to make him understand. “I’ll hate myself if I don’t.”

“Very well,” Giles said with a sigh, placing a hand on her back and leading her toward the crowd. “I can offer you a place to stay tonight, if you wish. After such a trying day, you need to get your rest.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’d like to stay with Spike,” she said, seeing the man in question turn in surprise when he overheard their conversation as they approached. “If he’ll have me,” she murmured, suddenly feeling more self-conscious, remembering their last meeting at his house.

A relieved smile lit up Spike’s face as he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her. “I’ll always have you.”

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Chapter 38 – Just For Tonight


Following Spike into the mansion, Buffy tiredly looked around, heavily leaning on him as the exhaustion of the day seemed to creep through her body. Snuggling deeper into the leather duster that was draped around her shoulders, she looked around the darkened interior.

“No houseguests?” she asked, glancing around.

“Told Ethan to get lost after you called and bitched at me,” he replied with an affectionate smile.

“I did not bitch,” she said indignantly, turning to face him. “I… okay, there might have been a little bitching, but I had good reason,” she added hastily, shivering when she felt his hand tenderly caress her cheek, slowly falling downward to rest on her throat. Glancing around the mansion, Buffy lowered her gaze to the floor, taking a deep breath before asking, “And there’s no one else here?”

Listening to the soft question, Spike tilted her head up to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“The woman… from yesterday,” she clarified, looking over his shoulder to avoid his gaze.

“Just a contact, Buffy,” he said in a soft voice, bringing his other hand up to cup her face, forcing her eyes back to his. “I told you it was nothing.”

“You’ve told me a lot of things,” she whispered, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. “Hurt a lot of-”

“But I don’t hurt you.”

Buffy thought about the scar on her neck. The blade of the knife pressed against her back. His fist hitting her jaw. The feel of her body hitting the counter as he choked her.

And he hadn’t hurt her.

There wasn’t one thing that had occurred between them that hadn’t turned her into a stronger person. It kept her alive when she thought she wouldn’t be able to make it. She owed that to him.

“I know,” she murmured, resting her head against his chest, relaxing when she felt his arms wrap around her, giving her the comfort she needed.

“There’s a lot to work through,” he whispered, never seeing Buffy’s eyes open as she continued to hold onto him.

“Is there?”

“We’ve never really talked. In the hospital, yeah, but… I think there’s some gaps that need filling in.”

“Can we leave it?” she asked, pulling back to look at him with a hopeful expression. “Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” he agreed with a nod, brushing a kiss to her lips. “There’s one thing I’m not sure about,” he said, biting his lip as he suppressed a smile. “The night that we… when everything came out in the open? What if it hadn’t?”

Frowning slightly, Buffy tilted her head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“You had a gun strapped to your thigh, Buffy,” he said in amusement. “What would have happened if that had been a normal night and I managed to get you into the bedroom?”

“Guess you wouldn’t have been getting any that night,” she teased, kissing his neck.

“Then I would have known that something was wrong,” he said, smiling when she pulled back to look at him. “There’s no way you can resist me, Goldilocks,” he continued, chuckling when she lightly slapped his chest.

“Pig,” she said, suppressing a giggle.

“You know it, baby.”

Buffy smiled warmly, her touch turning even gentler as she lightly ran a finger along his chest, feeling her nerves taking over. “Can we go upstairs now?”

Spike stepped back in surprise, obviously not expecting her request. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” she said quietly, nodding as she maintained eye contact with him, wanting him to know exactly how serious she was.

Taking her hand in his, Spike brought it to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to the back of it, never letting his gaze leave hers. “You told me something tonight,” he whispered, afraid to raise his voice for fear of breaking the fragile spell they seemed to be under. “Something that you’ve said before and then denied. Several times,” he added.

Struggling to keep the tears from surfacing, Buffy attempted to smile at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the moisture in her eyes as she tenderly cupped his cheek in her hand. “I love you,” she said in a strained voice.

“You’re sure about that this time?” he teased quietly, smiling when she laughed inaudibly.

“I am,” she replied with a nod.

“That works out nicely, then,” he murmured, covering her hand with his. “Because I never stopped loving you.”

Feeling the tears finally spill over, Buffy pulled him toward her, pressing her lips to his in a desperate kiss. A muffled cry left her lips when Spike swung her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. Separating a few moments later, her fingers remained laced in his hair as he lowered her to the ground. Their gazes remained locked as Buffy played with the soft strands beneath her fingertips.

“God, I’ve missed you,” she whispered, taking a deep breath to control the rest of her tears.

“Missed you, too, love,” he murmured, brushing a tear away that managed to escape her lashes. “What’s with the waterworks?”

“It’s… nothing,” she said, shaking her head as she wiped her eyes, trying to force a laugh. “Just an emotional day.”

“What can I do?” he asked softly, his eyes widening slightly when she took his hand, leading him to the bed. Shrugging off his duster as she walked, Buffy tossed it onto a nearby chair, leaving her in her workout pants and sports bra. “You don’t have-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Buffy said, stripping the bra over her head, smiling when Spike moved with lightning-fast speed to get to her. Shrieking when he wrapped his arms around her and pushed her down to the bed, Buffy giggled when his lips covered hers in a frantic kiss, separating a moment later to pull his shirt over his head. “And I thought I was the needy one,” she said with a smile, laughing when Spike grabbed her pants and panties, dragging them down her legs.

“It’s been too long,” he murmured, kicking off the rest of his clothes before leaving soft kisses along her skin as he climbed on top of her, closing his eyes when she wrapped her arms around him. His movements slowed as he looked at her. “Buffy,” he whispered, gently nuzzling the scar on her neck, breathing a sigh of relief when she smiled. “There’s something I need-”

“I never slept with him, Spike,” she whispered, caressing the contours of his face. “You know that. There was never anyone else.”

“Nice to know, love, but I was going to say I needed you to know something.”

Buffy felt her mouth go dry at the hidden implications. “O-okay,” she murmured nervously, closing her eyes when Spike’s fingers threaded through her hair.

“There was never anyone else,” he whispered, kissing her tenderly for a brief moment. “Never.”

“You mean that?” she whispered, looking up at him, her face filled with uncertainty. “After I took the O’Neill case, you showed up in Chicago. The girl at the gallery-”

“A woman who works for me. Her name is Cordelia Chase and she’s married to my friend Doyle. I wanted her there to distract Angel if he came in while I was talking to you.”

“And Darla?”

“Exactly who I said she was. If Angel hadn’t shown up in town, she was my informant to get to him. She was helping me so I could help you.”

Searching his face for a moment, a sad smile played on her lips as she rapidly blinked away the tears. “Love me, Spike,” she whispered, closing her eyes when the tears spilled down her cheeks as he gently entered her. “Just love me.”

“I love you,” he whispered, moving inside of her as he tenderly brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she said in a choked voice. “It’s always been you,” she gasped as he sped up his thrusts. “Never been anyone else.”

Rocking their hips together, Spike clung to Buffy, scared that she would disappear if he let her go. His lips continuously sought hers out, only separating from her when her back arched as she cried out from the stimulation.

Plunging into her with more force, Buffy’s gasps and moans seemed to spur him on as they moved together. “Need you,” she whispered, leaving gentle bites on his neck, feeling his muscles tense beneath her hands. “I’ve needed you so much.”

Her hips rising to meet his, her lips parted when she felt the familiar tightening in her belly. Arching up to meet him, her movements took on a desperate quality as she clung to him.

Screaming out her orgasm a moment later, she gasped for breath as Spike climaxed, his body tightening with the release before relaxing on top of her. Rolling over with Buffy firmly wrapped in his arms, he breathed heavily, trying to get his body under control. “Love you, baby,” he whispered, running a hand through her hair.

Buffy smiled against his chest, brushing a light kiss to his skin. “I know.”

* * * * *

Buffy felt as if she’d been staring at him for hours. The sharp angles of his face, the softness of his lips, the strong muscles in his torso. Everything was burned into her memory.

Turning to look at the clock, Buffy sighed, seeing what time it was. Climbing out of bed, she was careful not to wake him as she gathered her clothes, redressing quickly. Picking up one of his red silk shirts that was thrown over a chair, Buffy slipped it on, flipping her hair over the collar before quietly stepping out of the room.

Discovering a room with a phone, she quietly called a cab before sneaking back into his room and walking over to the desk that sat in the corner.

Finding a piece of paper a moment later, she quickly jotted down a note, fighting the tears in her eyes as she signed it. Walking toward the door, she paused as a tear escaped her lashes, slowly traveling down her cheek. Turning toward the sleeping man, her chin trembled as she walked over to the bed, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodbye,” she whispered, slowly straightening.

With a look of determination, she walked out of the room without a second glance. She had a plane to catch.








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Chapter 39 – Ain’t Love Grand


Loading the last of her suitcases into the trunk, Buffy sighed as she slammed it shut, staring at the car keys in her hand for a long moment before looking up at her house.

The movers were set to arrive later in the day to put her things in storage. Now, as the dark blue sky lightened to a hazy gray, casting the house in a mild silhouette, Buffy bit her lip, wondering if she was making the right decision. Was it worth it to start over? To leave everything behind?

“Buffy!”

Turning around in surprise at the sound of the voice, Buffy’s eyes widened when she saw him running toward her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, glancing around. “Giles, it’s not even five in the morning.”

“I wanted to see you before you left,” he said, slightly winded from his jog from the car.

“Why?” she asked in surprise.

“To make sure you’re not making a mistake,” he said plainly.

“Giles-”

“Look Buffy, I know that you feel this is the right decision for you-”

“It is,” she insisted.

“-but I want you to realize what you’re giving up.”

“You’re talking about Spike, aren’t you?” she murmured, looking up at him with a sad expression.

“I don’t like him, Buffy,” he said quietly. “But anyone can see how he feels about you.”

“Never thought you would be the one to be pleading his case,” she muttered, looking at the ground for a moment. “I’m making the right decision, Giles,” she murmured, turning her eyes back to his. “The two of us… We don’t fit.”

“Well, I’m inclined to disagree with you,” he said with a smile. “But I know how stubborn you can be.”

Buffy smiled before checking her watch. “I better go.”

“Need a lift to the airport?”

“That would be great, but my car-”

“I can drive it there and then have it arranged to be moved to the storage facility.”

“Sounds like a better plan than long-term parking in the airport parking lot,” she replied. “Let’s go.”

* * * * *

Spike groaned as he rolled over, wincing when the sun streamed through the windows, hitting him in the eyes. Becoming all too aware of how cold he felt, he slowly turned to the other side of the bed, barely registering the fact that he noticed Buffy was gone.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves as he sat up, he frowned when he saw the folded note lying beside him. Opening it up, he tried to swallow the lump in his throat when he stared at her handwriting.

Spike,

I didn’t want to leave last night, please believe me. There are just some things that I have to do… and they don’t include you. I’m not saying this to be cruel or to make you angry, I’m saying it because we would never work. You know that. I love you so much. Please believe me. Everything I said last night was the truth. I’m leaving. Leaving town. I’ve already arranged everything and… I don’t plan on coming back. Thank you, Spike, for everything. For loving me, even when you didn’t have to… and letting me love you. Please don’t try to find me. We both know that we would never work.

Love Always,
Buffy


Spike closed his eyes when he finished reading, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the pounding headache that was beginning to form. Throwing back the comforter on his bed, he angrily got to his feet. “Not that easy, love.”

* * * * *

Walking into FBI Headquarters, Spike took a deep breath. It had been years since he set foot in the building, and he wasn’t looking for a walk down memory lane. Making his way toward the back of the building, he managed to bypass everyone who looked like they planned on stopping him.

Stepping into Rupert Giles’ office as if it was his own, Spike crossed his arms over his chest, carefully sizing up the other man.

“How did you get in here?” Giles asked, getting to his feet.

“Used to be an agent, remember, Rupes? Not exactly hard to get into this building when you know how it works. You should look into that.”

“Yes, well, most of our former agents are not renowned criminals.”

“You say pot-a-to…”

“Why are you here?” Giles interrupted.

“Don’t play this game, Rupert. It’s not playing to your strengths. You know why I’m here.”

“I have a feeling the name ‘Buffy Summers’ is going to show up in this conversation.”

“When?” Spike asked, gritting his teeth.

“When what?” Giles replied, taking off his glasses in irritation.

“How long have you known that this was her plan?”

“Only a few days,” he said with a sigh. “She left a letter of resignation on my desk, saying that she wanted out of the Bureau. I only just talked to her about it last night, after Angelus died.”

“That’s why you pulled her aside?” Spike asked, looking at the floor. “I figured you were trying to steer her away from me. Wanting to talk some sense into her.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” he replied with a sigh. “But when Buffy sets her mind on something, nothing will steer her away from her goal.”

“What I love most about her,” he murmured with a slight smile, his features turning cold as he looked at the other man. “Where is she?”

“You honestly think I would volunteer that information?”

Spike sighed, sinking into the chair across from the older man, his hands folded in front of him. “Be straight with me, Giles,” he said quietly. “I need her… I hate that I need her,” he continued through gritted teeth. “But I do. Please tell me where she is.”

“I made a promise to her. I can’t tell you that information.” Giles sighed, watching Spike hang his head in defeat, briefly closing his eyes before continuing, “What has she always wanted to see?” he asked, seeing the confusion on the other man’s face as he raised his eyes from the floor.

“What?”

“She’s not just an agent,” Giles said quietly. “She’s not just some weapon that we threw at you to see if you’d come out swinging. You’ve gotten to know that girl, and in the time that you’ve known her… where would she go? She has the freedom and time to go out and do what she has always wanted to do… If you know that, if you know her, then you know the answer.”

Spike thought back for a moment, standing up to pace the room as flashes of his memory teased him with possible answers. His eyes widened as he remembered a particular conversation.

“The Artist's Garden at Giverny. Nineteen years after he painted this one… I guess his work just had to mature some more.”

“Why that one, love?”

“Because it was a water garden- it gave everything such depth and richness. The way he painted them from overhead, intensifying the surroundings.”

“Ever seen it?”

“At the Musée d'Orsay in Paris? Not exactly in my budget.”

A slow smile spread across Spike’s lips as he clapped Giles on the shoulder. “Rupert, old man, you’re gonna be Best Man at my wedding.”

“Imagine what that means to me,” he said dryly, taking off his glasses to rub them with a soft cloth as Spike practically ran from the office. “And what will Ethan say?” he yelled after him, smiling when he heard the other man laugh before the door slammed. Shaking his head as he replaced his glasses, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. “Ain’t love grand.”







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Chapter 40 – Exactly the Same


Buffy stood in front of the painting, trying to fight the tears in her eyes.

‘You’re being ridiculous, Summers,’ she thought, briefly closing her eyes. ‘You’re in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, standing in the one place you’ve always wanted to be, looking at the painting you’ve dreamed about seeing since your mother first showed you a picture. Stop with the pity party.’

Reopening her eyes, she took in the beautiful art, admiring the strokes of color that swept over the canvas. Tilting her head for a closer look, Buffy stared at the painting in awe as she brushed her hair away from her cheek, wanting to get a better look.

“Beautiful.”

Stiffening at the sound of the familiar British accent, Buffy didn’t bother to turn around. “It is,” she said in a choked voice, swallowing hard as she gave a slight nod of agreement.

“I meant the admirer,” he replied with a slow smirk, reminiscing to a time several months ago when he’d first laid eyes on her.

Nearly laughing as the déjà vu overwhelmed her, Buffy shook her head as she sighed, blinking back the tears in her eyes. “Please tell me that line doesn’t normally work,” she said, biting her lip when she heard him chuckle behind her.

“It’s been known to,” he said, seeing her turn slightly, but she still wouldn’t look at him. “But only once. Amazing girl. Don’t know where I went wrong.”

“Maybe it wasn’t just you,” Buffy said, her gaze falling to the floor.

“Maybe not,” he murmured, turning his attention back to the painting. “The Artist's Garden at Giverny.”

A smile pulled at Buffy’s lips as the words practically rolled off his tongue, almost poetically. “Know anything about it?” she asked, never turning to face him.

“Nineteen years after he painted The Artist's Garden at Vetheuil. Never much cared for this one until someone pointed out to me that his work just need to… mature some more,” he said with a slight smile, repeating her words from so long ago.

“My thoughts exactly,” she murmured.

“I seem to remember why it started to grow on me… The description it was given to me by a girl I knew.”

Tilting her head to the side slightly, Buffy smiled softly to herself. “And you still remember what she said?”

“Because it was a water garden,” Spike quoted, stepping a little closer to her, brushing the hair away from her shoulders, sending a chill racing up and down her spine. “It gave everything such depth and richness. The way he painted them from overhead, intensifying the surroundings.”

“You have a good memory.”

“I’m William Reed,” he replied, ignoring what she’d just said.

Smiling softly, she slowly turned her gaze toward him, blushing when he took her hand in his and gently kissed the back of it. “Buffy Summers,” she said with an amused expression.

“So, Buffy Summers, are you in the art business?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her in interest.

“I dabble,” she said with a smile, watching as he raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“Dabble?” he asked after a moment, glancing around the museum, seeing that they were relatively alone. Taking a step forward, he hesitantly wrapped an arm around her waist, looking into her eyes, searching for something. “What are you doing here?” he asked gently, watching her with a pained expression.

Smiling softly, Buffy rested her hands lightly against his chest, unsure of what was happening between them, fighting the urge to push him away and pull him closer at the same time. “Living the dream.”

“This is your dream?” he asked, a line forming between his eyebrows as he studied her.

“It could have been,” she whispered, a sad smile on her face as her eyes filled with tears. “It just didn’t…”

“You could have told me,” he said quietly, studying her carefully. “I would have brought you here… I would have taken you anywhere.”

“I know,” she said, looking anywhere but at him. “But we could never… What do you want, Spike?” she asked in a drained voice.

“I want a fresh start,” he said simply, seeing her eyes widen as she looked up at him.

“Fresh starts are overrated,” she muttered, pulling away from him and moving to pass him, stopping when she felt a restraining hand on her arm.

“Are they?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Aren’t they?” she countered in the same tone.

“Buffy-”

“There’s no us, Spike. There never could be, so why are you even doing this?”

“You don’t know that,” he replied, clenching his jaw as he looked away. “You have no idea what could have… You were going to leave anyway, weren’t you?” he asked, turning toward her with a blank expression. “Regardless of whether the O’Neill case was finished. Regardless of the fact that you wouldn’t have told me goodbye. You were ready to up and leave.”

“I was,” Buffy confirmed quietly, staring unseeingly at the painting in front of her.

“Well,” Spike said with a sardonic smile. “Isn’t that nice. And the other night? Just a bit of cold comfort?”

“You should know that’s not what it was,” she said, turning to look at him, seeing his jaw clench as he stared straight ahead. “I told you in the note- I meant everything I said, it’s just… the reason I said it… I thought I…”

“You thought you would never see me again,” he filled in.

“Spike, I-”

“Save me your explanations, Summers,” he said, turning to face her with a cold expression. “I know what you were trying to do… and I don’t care.”

Buffy’s eyes widened in shock as she watched him.

“I don’t care,” he repeated, his voice gaining more emotion as his eyes softened. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you,” he said, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “So if you plan on running away again… plan on me finding you.”

“What are you saying?” she whispered, too scared to hope that what she was hearing was the truth.

“I want you back,” he said, his stomach tightening with apprehension. “I’m giving it up, Buffy, I’m giving it all up. Sod everything else- I want us. Regardless of what you say, there is an us.”

Buffy opened her mouth to respond, finding that the words wouldn’t come. Looking at the floor in shock, she tried to control her breathing as she shook her head. “We’re too different,” she whispered.

“And we’re exactly the same,” he replied with a smile.

“You really believe that?” she asked, closing her eyes when he leaned forward and tenderly brushed his lips over hers in a chaste kiss.

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. I always say what I mean,” he whispered, resting his hands on her hips, subtly pulling her closer.

“I want there to be an us,” she whispered, blinking the tears away as she looked at him, gently fisting her hands in his duster, pulling him lower for a tender kiss before resting her forehead against his with a soft smile. “We’ll probably end up killing each other.”

“It’s a distinct possibility,” he replied with a smirk.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Me either.”





~The End~




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