Chapter One

"When's he arriving? Huh? When?" Buffy pestered her mother as she set out the Iced Tea and platter of sandwiches. Among them was cucumber, Spike, her stepbrother's, favorite.

Joyce gave her an impatient look, "Buffy, will you calm down? He's going to
be here any minute now."

"Well I'm excited! I mean, I haven't seen the guy since I was sixteen. He
turned nineteen and poof! Gone. It's been four years and I've missed him."

Joyce smiled. "I'm sure he's missed you too."

Buffy rolled her green eyes, "Yeah, right. He's been too busy with. . . stuff."

"Now don't go bringing up his divorce. He's still raw from it," Joyce
warned.

"Told William he shouldn't have married her," Giles, Buffy's stepfather and
Spike's—or William as was his real name—biological father added as he
stepped in and scoffed a cucumber sandwich from the platter. Joyce
swatted him.

"And what kind of wedding was it anyway? Oooh…a judge. Bo-oring,"
Buffy grabbed a PBJ off the platter and earned a glare from her mother,
causing her to dutifully put it back.

"He should have known something was off when the woman flat out
refused to have a ceremony that involved family and friends," Giles went
on, munching away. "She wanted to make him like her. A babbling recluse
talking to dolls and planning her day around what the ‘stars' told her."

"I'd like a judge's ruling on this—the stars? I didn't hear that one. Or much
of any of them. He never wanted to talk to his bratty little sister. He
wanted his mommy," Buffy said dryly.

Joyce smiled, "Even macho men want their mommy's when something
goes wrong."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, he sucks for not wanting me around.
You know there were times when I really could have used my big brother.
But no, he was too busy helping the mentally insane Drusilla."

"Our hearts don't use reason when it comes to love. The heart wants what
it wants," Joyce told her wisely.

Buffy shrugged, "Whatever. It just seems to me that if you know there's a
possibility you're going to get screwed out of the deal, why go for it? I'd
rather have both eyes wide open than completely shut, or even half
massed."

Joyce patted her arm gently. "Someday Buffy. Someday you'll love and
you'll see how wild and intense and passionate it can be. It'll take your
breath away."

"Doubt it."

"That's because you haven't found it yet."

"Maybe," Buffy said non committal.

"I think I hear the car," Giles said suddenly, straining to hear. Loud music
accompanied by a loud muffler was heard outside. "Yes, it must be him.
Just like our William: Hearing him before you see him."

Buffy smiled broadly and rushed to the door. Flinging the door open she
practically ran outside to greet her big brother. The man she'd set on a
pedestal since he'd moved out; the man who'd been away for four years and
was now back.

Rupert Giles and Joyce Summers had met at an art gallery showing –
Joyce's gallery to be specific. Buffy had been ten years old. Sparks flew for
the couple and it wasn't long before the "I Do's" were exchanged. Out of the
deal, Buffy got a father who was actually there for her and an older brother,
both British. Something she'd wished she had before. She was of the
opinion that all girls needed a big brother to protect them. Spike had fit the
role to a T. Well, he went from that to alternately telling her to get lost. It
was a sibling thing and it hadn't really bothered her all that much.

With his rebel ways and penetrating blue eyes with the bleached blond
locks, William had given himself the nickname Spike and he was a force to
be reckoned with. He felt that his ‘step mum' and Dad were trying to hinder
him too much and he'd moved out the second he'd turned nineteen. He'd
taken off for the east coast and had gone to college there for a while before
meeting the elusive Drusilla and getting married. It'd been a shock to all of
them and it had hurt Buffy to know that he never bothered with her much
anymore, not even to tell her the good news. Their parents had gone out to
visit him a few times over the years, but Spike had never set foot in
Sunnydale again. Taking a silent protest and figuring she wasn't wanted
much to begin with, Buffy had never gone out to see him.

All of that seemed to be somewhat eradicated when she'd found out that he
was moving back home however. She was excited to see him, hoping that
maybe they'd get close again, that maybe he would allow her to be part of
his life. God knew she wanted to show off him off. She'd built him up over
the years into this James Dean like icon. He was to her the epitome of cool.
The fact that he'd taken off to the other side of the U.S., was fascinating to
her—even more that he'd driven there to ‘see more of the country'. And
now, he'd driven back with what few belongings he could fit in the back of
his DeSoto. The rest had been shipped home and was currently in boxes in
his old bedroom. Heaven forbid he should leave the DeSoto behind or skip
out on the chance of not ‘seeing the country again'.

Spike stepped out of his car, his hair still bleached, but his dark roots had
started coming in. His hair was shaggier than she remembered and it was a
riot of curls. He had also acquired a duster it seemed and hadn't quit
smoking as a cigarette dangled from his mouth. She caught a flash of black
nail polish as he took out the cigarette and flung it to the street. He wore
black Docs, black jeans and a black t shirt with a red button down.

"Spike!" she shouted and ran at him, smiling happily.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped for a brief second before grinning
goofily and opening his arms to her.

She flung herself in his open arms and squealed when he lifted her off the
ground and swung her a bit.

"How's my kitten?" he asked, his voice deep and husky.

"I'm so glad you're home!" she exclaimed excitedly. "How was the trip
back? Has the country changed much since the last time you drove through
it?"

He placed her down on the ground and grinned. "Little bit. Don't
remember a lot actually."

"Maybe in another four years you could do it again to stay on top of it."

He smiled, "Maybe I'll take you with me next time."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, right."

"William!" Joyce exclaimed, rushing up to greet him.

Buffy stepped aside, and met his warm blue eyes as he hugged their mom.
She smiled happily. Things were definitely looking good.

Chapter Two

Buffy brushed her long golden hair and stared at herself in the mirror, thinking. There was something definitely different about Spike. She noticed it in the way he carried himself and the way he spoke.

He'd grown up.

And, she was sure, had his heart broken. There was something almost
fragile about him. She wondered just how much damage Drusilla had done
and if his coming back home had a lot to do with her. She felt a surge of
protectiveness shoot through her and her green eyes narrowed with evil
intent. No one hurt her big brother and got away with it.

"Knock, knock."

She smiled and spun around in her vanity chair. "Come in, loser."

Spike waltzed in, a hand over his heart. "Oi, pet. That hurt."

She smiled. "What's up?"

He shrugged and looked around her room. "Hey, you have the Boston Red
Sox hat I sent you," he said excitedly and walked across her room to pick
up the navy blue hat with the red ‘B' on the front she had hanging on a hat
rack. Buffy had always been bit of a tomboy and collected various baseball
caps to shove on her head on days when she just didn't feel like being a
‘girly girl'.

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

He shrugged. "And you finally painted your room blue."

"Think I wanted to live with flowered wallpaper? I think not."

"That's my girl," he grinned and sat down on her bed, facing her. "So, tell
me what's new."

She stared at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Can I be honest here?" she asked cautiously.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he told her.

"You kind of suck ass."

He froze. "What do you mean?"

"Despite how happy I am to see you, you suck for not coming to visit once
in a while and for not ever wanting to call and talk to me."

He nodded and scratched the back of his head. "I know."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I do. Truthfully, I didn't expect you to welcome me back with open
arms the way you did."

She cocked her head to the side. "Then why did you pretty much ignore
me all these years?"

"I don't know . . . I was taking a stand. Getting out on my own and not
wanting to need anyone."

"You always need your family, Spike."

He nodded; his eyes sad. "You're right, you do."

"Did you miss us?"

He looked up and met her eyes. "I did. Very much."

She got up from her seat and sat down next to him. She placed a hand on
his back. "Spike, can you tell me what happened with Drusilla?"

"Not much to tell. She was off her rocker and not very faithful."

"Did you love her very much?"

"Buffy, I don't want to really talk about this right now, if that's okay with
you?"

"You talked to mom about it," she said indignantly. "I'm not the same kid
anymore, Spike."

"I know that Buffy, and I didn't mean it that way. I just . . . I left all that
stuff there. I want to keep it there."

"That's the thing about your past. You can't leave it behind for very long.
It has a way of coming back to haunt you. See you downstairs." More than
a little peeved, Buffy stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut
behind her. Guess some things never changed, she thought.


**********************************************************
Buffy poked at her dinner as her family chatted around her. They'd all piled in the car together, and Buffy had barely said two words to Spike the whole way to the restaurant. It was the Giles/Summers welcome home dinner for Spike. Buffy just wasn't in the mood to be celebrating. It wasn't like it mattered to him if she was there or not. To him, she was just his stepsister. There was only three years separating him, but the way he treated her it might as well be ten. She didn't get it. He adored her mother, loved her to bits and depended on her. A large feat for Spike considering how he'd loved his real mum before she died a few years before Giles had met Joyce. So with the closeness he had with Joyce, how was it that Buffy got the short end of the stick?

"Are you going to poke at it all night or eat it?"

Buffy looked up, meeting Spike's eyes. She looked around the table.
"Where'd mom and Giles go?"

Spike pointed to the dance floor in the middle of the room. "Having a
dance."

"Oh." And she went back to poking at her steak.

"Care to dance with me?" he asked hopefully.

She eyed him warily. "You don't have to do that. I know you don't want
to."

He pushed his chair out and stood, holding out his hand. She noted how
handsome he looked – the black on black gone and its place were neatly
pressed dress pants, a light blue button down that matched his eyes, and a
tie. His hair was even slightly slicked back, taming his wild curls.

She looked at his hand and then up at him, not relinquishing her hold on
her fork and making no move to take his hand.

"Buffy, come on. Don't make me look like a jackass standing here with my
hand out like this," he nearly pleaded with her.

She sighed heavily and pushed out her chair, dropping her fork noisily onto
the plate. "Well, you are a jack ass," she said huffily, "So it wouldn't matter
much to me if you looked like one."

"I deserved that," he said as he followed her to the dance floor.

"You're damn right," she replied and turned.

He took her in his arms carefully. "Do you want to lead or shall I?" he tried
teasing.

She gave him a look. "Don't."

"Buffy, I'm sorry. I'm a bad, rude man."

"Yeah, you know what? In some circles that might be a good enough
excuse, but with me it doesn't cut it."

"Can we start over? What can I do to make it up to you?"

"You can start with not treating me as if I'm just . . . there. We used to be
close and then you take off without so much as a backward glance and
barely make any effort to keep in touch with me all these years. You're my
brother, Spike."

"Step brother," he corrected.

She detangled herself from his arms. "What does it matter?"

"Buffy, don't make a scene, please."

"Whatever," she snapped and walked away, leaving him on the dance floor
alone. She headed towards the table where she abruptly told Giles and her
mother that was calling her friend Willow and going there for a while.
Heading towards the bathroom, she stayed in there and called Willow,
staying there until her red headed friend arrived to collect her. On her way
out, she peeked over at the dinner table and found Spike looking forlornly
at his plate. Good, she thought smugly, now he knows what it feels like to
be left and ignored.


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

Buffy climbed into her room later that night. She had no intention of staying the night at Willow's, she had just wanted to get away for a while. She wanted to avoid getting reamed out by Giles and Joyce for having left the way she did.

"So, you're still making good use of that tree," a deep voice rumbled in the
dark.

Buffy nearly fell the floor and just barely managed not to scream in fright
as she toppled to the floor. The light flicked on and she looked up to see
Spike standing there with his arms crossed, frowning at her.

"You know I don't like the idea of you walking the streets this late at
night," he told her.

She climbed to her feet, glaring at him. "You can't tell me what to do and
you can't start acting like you care all of a sudden."

"I do care. You do realize you're acting like a spoiled brat, right?"

"Kind of like the way you did when you moved across country and never
invited us to your wedding?"

He pursed his lips together. "What happened to this afternoon when you
were happy to see me?"

"I was happy to see you, but I can only contain my rage at you for so long.
It really hurt getting the shaft all this time, Spike."

"I know. I am sorry, Buffy, you don't know how much. Especially since I
see how you've grown . . . I did miss you, you know."

"You had a funny way of showing it."

"Listen Buffy, I can't change anything right now. It is what it is. I did what
I did and I can't change it. The only thing I can do now is make it up to you.
Will you let me try? Will you let me in your life?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"Will you let me in yours?"

"Yes, Buffy, I can do that."

"So you will tell me about Drusilla?"

"I'll try. That's all I can promise right now."

She stared at him for a minute and then flung herself in his arms, hugging
him tight. "I missed you, you stupid jerk."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her just as tight, if not tighter.
"I know it didn't seem like it Buffy, but God, I missed you too."

There was something so real, so honest and so raw in that confession that
Buffy had no choice but to believe him.

Chapter Three


Buffy perched on the stool next to Spike at the kitchen counter and peered at him inquisitively.

He closed his mouth, stopping himself from shoveling the wad of pancakes on his fork
into his mouth and placed the fork down. "What?" he asked.

She smiled, "What are you doing today?"

He cleared his throat. "Looking for a job, why?

She wrinkled her nose. "Oh."

The corners of his mouth tugged into an amused grin. "Not what you were wanting
then?"

"I was hoping we could hang out."

"Well sweets, we can surely hang out afterwards. I promised Dad I'd look for
employment."

"Like what?"

"What?"

She rolled her eyes, "What kind of employment?"

He shrugged. "Not sure yet."

"Well, what did you go to school for?"

"I didn't finish school Buffy, you know that."

"But I figured even if you didn't, you'd want to do whatever it is you went for."

"I went for English. And pretty much without a degree, I'm serving up fries."

She wrinkled her nose again. "Ew. Don't do that."

He chuckled, "I'll try not to."

"Do you have a resume?"

"Sad state of affairs it is, but yes."

"All right, well, I'll catch up with you later then. Good luck!" and she slid off the stool.

Spike grabbed her arm, "What did you want to do today if I had been free? Anything
special?"

"Thought we could grab lunch, swing on the swings—"

He laughed, "You still do that?"

"Of course! A worldly woman such as myself still finds time for trivial things such as
that," she said haughtily and then giggled. "Plus, I wanted you to meet some of my friends."

Spike grinned, "I'd like that, kitten. However. . . "

"I know, I know." She sighed, "Maybe later."

"Definitely."


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


"So when do I get to meet this brother of yours? The way you talk about him, I feel like
we should roll out the red carpet for when he comes home," Doyle, Buffy's best guy friend
joked as they half watched TV in her room.

She punched his arm playfully and he stroked the spot she hit. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"You'll get to meet him."

"Did you yell at him? Tell him what an ass he was for not bothering with you all this
time?" Doyle asked, peering up at her with bright blue eyes, framed by dark lashes.

"Yeah, we worked it out. . . he said he did miss me."

"Believe him?"

Recalling the passionate words and tight embrace from the night before, Buffy nodded,
feeling a shiver of something course through her.

"Uh-oh. What are you thinking about?"

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Something's up. You've got pensive face."

She scowled at him, "I don't like that you can tell what I'm thinking like that."

Doyle shrugged, "It's a cross I have to bear, being sensitive to your moods. Spill."

"Something's different about him."

"I imagine being married and then divorced so quickly to a ‘psycho' as you put it, can
put a strain on a man."

"How would you know?"

"That's it Summers," Doyle bounded up and tackled a giggling Buffy to the bed. "I
know where to get you!" he exclaimed and began digging into her sides.

Buffy was laughing and shrieking so much, she could barely breathe. She really was
trying to grab Doyle's hands away from her, but he was too quick.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here? What are you doing on top of my sister?"

Doyle froze, Buffy froze. Buffy tilted her head to see Spike in the doorway, red-faced
and menacing.

"Tickle Fest, 2005. No worries," Doyle said gallantly and climbed off Buffy, brushing his
dark locks out of his face. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Doyle. You must be Spike."

Spike's eyes narrowed and he stared at Doyle's hand as if it were a sickness Doyle was

trying to give him.

Buffy got up and fixed her clothing. "Spike, he wasn't hurting me. Doyle's kind of a
sissy."

Doyle mock glared at her and she giggled again.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me," Spike grunted and walked out of the room.

Doyle raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, something is definitely up with him."

"You can tell?"
"You'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to see it!"

"Any clue what it is, Oh Omnipotent one?"

Doyle shook his head, "I'm not at liberty to say."

"Yeah, because you don't know," Buffy snorted.

"Oh, I know," Doyle said cryptically. "I know enough to give you some time together
now."

Buffy looked at him oddly. Doyle merely pecked her nose and climbed out her window.

Running down the stairs, Buffy nearly collided with Spike who was standing at the
bottom, staring at her. He caught her in his grasp and steadied her.

"Did you find a job?" she asked, finding her balance.

"Where's your friend?" he asked, his hands gripping her arms.

"He left."

"I didn't hear – or see—" H frowned. "Out the window?"

Buffy nodded. "Yep, out the window."

"That ends now, or I tell Dad and Mum," he said harshly.

Her eyes widened. "Mom and Giles already know about Doyle—they even know that
he climbs in there—that I climb in there. Spike, I know you haven't been around for oh, four
fucking years, but I am twenty years old now. A legal adult. I have no restrictions and Mom
and Giles don't ground me anymore." She yanked herself free from him.

"They let you just sleep with him in the house?" Spike shouted in outrage.

Buffy's jaw dropped, "Sleep with—you mean sex?"

"Don't play dumb with me Buffy."

She couldn't help it, she started to laugh. "Sex with Doyle. Now that is funny."

"You two sure looked cozy back there," he said accusingly.


"I don't sleep with Doyle like that. I don't have sex with him. I don't turn him on that
way, Spike."

"You've got a lot to learn about men, Buffy," he told her darkly.

"I know enough about men to know that when they're gay they don't find women
alluring or arousing in that way," she spat.

He was making like a guppy. "You mean he's—"

"Gay? Yes."

"I feel really dumb right now."

Buffy patted him on the back, "Yeah, marinate in that feeling for a while since you just
embarrassed me and made an ass out of yourself in front of my best friend."

"Buffy," he started, following her to the kitchen. "I'm sorry for exploding like that."

Turning to him and leaning against the counter, she eyed him. "That stuff probably
would have been more effective if I were still sixteen. But you left remember?"

"How long am I going to be made to feel guilty for that?"

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, Spike. I'm stating fact. You left for four years
and I grew up. I'm twenty, you're twenty-three. Hell, you got married and divorced in all that
time. I don't go to high school anymore, I go to college. Things aren't the same anymore and
you can't expect to come back here after four years and think things are going to be the same as
how you left them. I really wanted my big brother all that time, but I have to tell you. . . I got
used to you not being here and not ‘looking out' for me."

"I want to look out for you now," Spike said earnestly. "I want to be here . . . for you."

"You can be, just not the same way anymore. Now instead of just siblings, we can
explore what it's like to be friends on top of being related to one another. I'd like to get to know
the person you've become, not the person you were when you left. And I'd like you to get to
know me, as I am now, not the person that was left behind."

"Buffy—"

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty Spike. Someone is always left behind when
someone leaves. It's not always a bad thing. Don't you like it better this way though? I'm not
following you around like a puppy like I used to, right?"

He nodded, looking down at the floor, "I didn't mind too much when you did."

"Yeah, ok. So all those times you told me to ‘get lost' were just because you felt it was
your brotherly duty to tell me that?"

He grinned slightly, looking up at her. "Something like that."

She shook her head and smiled. "Well, as part of getting to know each other now,
maybe we could leave that stuff behind?"

"I'm always going to want to protect you, Buffy," he told her sincerely. "Always."

"You didn't for four years while you were gone, what's the difference now?"

"I'm here now."

"I don't need protecting."

Sighing heavily, Spike ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the curls. "Can we start
over? Let's pretend I just got home, okay?"

This time, Buffy sighed heavily. "All right, fine."

"Hi Buffy, I'm home now. Would you like to hang out?"

She smiled, a genuine smile. "Yes, I'd like that."

Chapter Four



"So, tell me about Drusilla," Buffy said casually and popped a fry in her mouth, leaning back in the booth of the restaurant they'd decided to stop in at.

Spike swallowed. "Don't waste any time do you?"

She shrugged, "Did I ever? Some things never change."

"I told you already."

"Okay, let me try something else. Why don't you tell me what you would tell mom
when you called?"

"Buffy, no."


"Why not?" she pouted.

"You're adorable," he blurted out. Their eyes met and there was a moment –something
not easily defined, but more FELT. It hung there in between them, and time stood still for a
minute. It was as if someone pressed ‘pause' on a movie. Then, as quickly as it came, someone
pushed ‘play'. Buffy shivered and Spike looked down at his plate, nervously scratching the
back of his head.

"What I told Mum, that's all in the past. Dru is in my past."

Buffy reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "Do you still love her?"

He stared at their joined hands. "Who?"

"Drusilla."

"No. I feel for her, there's a difference."

"Because she was crazy?"

He nodded.

"Mom said she was in an institution."

"That's right, she is. Bloody had to drive her there."

Buffy squeezed his hand. "Spike, I'm so sorry."

Curling his fingers so that their hands were now entwined, he squeezed back.
"What was it? What did it? Or was it something she always had?"

"Something she always had. . . at varying degrees. Got worse as time went on."

"Did you love her very much?"

"I thought I did. I thought I could help her. I think I made her worse."

"How is that possible?"

"Buffy, can we get off this now, please?" he asked and met her eyes.

She nodded, "Yeah, I'm sorry. If you don't . . . you don't have to. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, pet. Just something I left there and don't care to revisit."

"Spike I just want to let you know that you can talk to me if you ever need to."

He gazed at her warmly, "Thank you."

She pulled her hand back and cleared her throat, "So, that was intense. Moving along
now."

He grinned. "Tell me about Doyle."

She broke out in a huge smile. "He's great. The best guy ever."

Spike arched a brow.

"Aside from you of course. Doyle's just . . . He's always got my back. He's affectionate
without trying to cop a feel. He's sweet without the hidden agenda and truly thoughtful."

"Sounds like you almost have a crush on him."

"I did actually. He didn't come right out and say he was gay and he's not
every…effeminate a lot of the time. So when we first started hanging out I did have a crush on
him. I think he figured it out and he let me know then that he was gay. I think he didn't want to
embarrass me in case I ever tried for anything."

"Would you have?"

"Tried for anything?"

Spike nodded.

Buffy shook her head, "No. I'm not good at stuff like that. I had always assumed that
Doyle was just shy like me and that was fine because I was shy too. If he had never initiated
anything, I probably would have been perfectly content to wait for him to."

"You shy? Come on, I have a hard time believing that."

She blushed under his teasing. "I am when it comes to that stuff."

"So you've never--?"

Her eyes widened and she hit him on the arm, "Spike! That is none of your business!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. I just assumed that – You know, I'm just going to stop talking
about that."

"Thank you," she said softly, cheeks blazing. What a mortifying conversation to have
with her brother of all people. She looked up at him meekly.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, kitten?"

"Is it a bad thing?"

"What? Being a –"

"Yeah."

His eyes widened, "God, no. Buffy, no. I think it's –it makes you all the more special."

"And guys love that sort of thing, don't they? Bagging a," her voice lowered, "virgin?"

"If that is how some guy perceives it, then he is not worthy to lick your boots never
mind . . . Buffy, it's a rare thing these days, but there is NOTHING wrong with it. It's
refreshing."

"It is?"

He nodded. "When Mum and Dad were growing up, staying uh, ‘pure' was something
that was just done. They were told to wait until they were married. When Dad gave me the
‘talk', he started it out with the standard ‘when two people love each other' spiel. I waited until
I was in love with someone before I lost mine. I took that to heart. It meant something."

"I always thought you were going at like a rabbit."

Spike chuckled. "No, princess, I wasn't. Being a ‘bad boy' is about the image. As long as you can
talk the talk, you don't always have to walk the walk."

"Faker!"

Spike shrugged, "What can I say? There were some things Dad taught me that I held onto. I j
ust didn't let him know that."

"I can barely stand to talk to half the guys I know—aside from Doyle—so I can't even imagine—ew."

Spike grinned.

"Was . . . was Dru your first?" she asked cautiously, fiddling with her napkin.

"Yes," came his quiet reply.

"Now we're definitely moving on. This conversation has gone from uncomfortable to
creepy and back to uncomfortable."

Spike chuckled, "You're right it has."

"Did you find a job today?"

"I did."

"Care to elaborate?" she prodded.

"Construction. Not exactly the best job ever, but it's money and I'm thinking I'll apply
to University of Sunnydale in the meantime and hopefully get accepted for winter registration.

"Hey! We could drive in together!" Buffy said excitedly.

"That we could, kitten."

She smiled, "Have I told you how happy I am that you're home?"

Spike smiled warmly. "I'm happy too, Buffy."







He couldn't sleep. He stared up at the ceiling feeling anxious. He didn't know what to
do with himself. He could hear Buffy's TV in her room going. Glancing at the clock, he noted it
was midnight. She no doubt fell asleep with it on. She'd been knackered by the time they'd
gotten home from walking practically all of Sunnydale. It was nice to just walk and talk like
that. And at the restaurant when she'd reached him and held his hand. It warmed his heart.
Just to have that contact with her, just a simple hand on him—it meant everything to him.

It was also dangerous.

Spending time with her like that led to thoughts that would no doubt send her running.

It'd sent him running after all, didn't it?

He shook his head and sat up against the headboard. The sheet fell down around his waist and he used the light of the moon trickling in from the window to guide him as he lit up a cigarette.

Expelling the smoke, he wondered what the bloody hell he was doing back here. He could have gone anywhere, but no, he chose to come back home. Back to Buffy. Back to his SISTER. Well, his step sister as he was so quick to point out last night. It didn't make it any less confusing or wrong however knowing there was no blood between them. For Christ's Sake, her Mum was like his Mum…he called her Mum. His Dad was hers . . . He felt dirty. Felt like he was committing incest for even thinking of the Golden Goddess in the next room. How she gazed up at him with trusting eyes. Eyes that spoke of adoration. She didn't know how he felt and he still felt as if he were exploiting her innocence. She couldn't even begin to know what it meant to him to learn she was a virgin still. His whole being had sung at that piece of information. His Golden Girl, his Buffy, his Princess was untouched. When he'd seen the boy on top of her on her bed that afternoon, he'd had to talk himself out of ripping his head off and shoving it up his ass. The thought of Buffy having sex, of being touched . . . Great. Good job. Now you're harder than nails, Spike berated himself. He refusedto release the tension. Refused to touch his betraying member. He wasn't supposed to have these thoughts of Buffy. It was wrong and it was dirty and God . . .

Hadn't he learned when it drove Drusilla insane?

Chapter Five


Buffy munched on her cereal the next morning and idly glanced at the
clock. It was eight. Spike had to be to work at nine and she'd heard
neither hide nor hair of him yet.

Should she wake him?

Well, it was either that or he be late on the first day and that
would be bad. Giles had been so excited that he'd found a job the
night before, he'd broken out the champagne. She thought it was a
little much, but she understood the gesture just the same. Giles was
excited his son was home again. Taking a job meant he was there for
possibly a very long time. She smiled as she remembered Spike teasing
her when her cheeks had flamed red from just a few sips of the
liquor. He had a really sweet smile. She didn't remember him ever
smiling much before. Not unless he was laughing at her.

8:15.

She slid off the stool. She was waking him.

Running up the stairs and to his room, she halted and knocked on his
door. Nothing.

"Spike, you need to get up," she called through the door.

She took a deep breath and hoped he didn't yell at her for this. She
pushed at the door and it swung open to reveal Spike on his back, one
arm draped over his head, the other at his side. The sheet was
bunched up his waist and covering his `naughty bits'. His legs were
bare, his chest was --- Did he work out?

She gulped, tearing her eyes from his torso and up to his face. She
smiled gently. How adorable was he? He didn't look so. . . haunted.
He was at peace. She had the urge to touch his face; to feel his
peace.

His eyes flew open. "Buffy?" he croaked, "Am I dreaming?"

"No, I'm sorry but you have to be to work in," she glanced at his
alarm clock, "forty minutes. I don't want you to be late on your
first day. I could um, make you something to eat while you shower if
you want."

"Yeah, that'd be great uh—"

She held up her hands. "I'm gone!"

She nearly flew down the stairs, images of his nakedness running
rampant in her mind. She felt like sticking her fingers in her ears
and humming really loudly like she used to when she was kid and
didn't want to hear anything. Maybe the simple act would dispel it
all from her mind and stop the blush she swore was originating from
her toes. She leapt to the phone and dialed Doyle.

"'Ello?" a groggy voice answered.

"Sorry Doyle. Go back to sleep."

He hung up. She started singing the theme song to The Brady Bunch to
get it all out of her head.

She was still doing that ten minutes later when Spike sauntered into
the kitchen.

"What the bloody hell are you on? I could hear you all the way
upstairs," he said as he grabbed the plate of cinnamon toast she
handed him. "Thanks."

"Would you prefer Gilligan's Island?"

"Buffy, I had to take one bird to an institution; I really don't want
to have to take you too."

She couldn't help it, she laughed. An almost crazy laugh.

"Buffy?"

"I got up much too early," she told him.

He smiled. "It's okay. I always knew you were strange."

She smiled brightly, "Good luck today. Mom was so gay and packed you
a lunch. It's in
the fridge."

"Okay, great."

"Yeah, okay. Bye!" and she breezed up the stairs intent on waking
Doyle's ass up NOW.




"Take him his lunch, Buffy," Doyle urged.

"No."

"Do it."

"No."

"Seriously, do it."

"No."

"You're going to let the poor man starve?"

"Yes!"

"And why is that?"

She glared at her best friend who sat in the chair opposite her as
she reclined on the
couch. "We've only spent the whole morning going over it."

"Because you think he's, how did you put it? `Yummy'."

"Doyle! You weren't supposed to say it out loud!" She huffed and
placed an arm over
her eyes, shielding him.

"Ah, we dare not speak its name," he said in a fake Italian accent.

"Right!"

"Even if it's just us that knows?"

"Right!"

"Buffy, he's not really your brother."

She flopped her arm back to her side. "Doyle, he's been my `brother'
since I was ten."

"Yeah, since you were ten. Not since birth. He's your STEP brother.
No blood."

"It's still . . . gross!"

"Definitely not gross. Have you SEEN him?"

She gave him an incredulous look.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Why don't you just step on my head while I'm drowning?"

"Oh stop being so melodramatic."

"It's wrong Doyle, it's . . . "

"Kinky."

She eyed him warily. "You'd know all about that wouldn't you?"

"I'm gay. I've got the kink built in."

She giggled.

"See, you're not sounding like a foghorn anymore complaining. You're
giggling now."

"So, Freud, what's the prognosis?"

"You are a female and Spike is a male—very much a male by the way.
You saw his
naked flesh –which, so jealous by the way—and you reacted as a female
would to a male she
found attractive."

"Are you going to get to the part where I shouldn't have done that
and it was wrong
and incestual?"

"No. Come on Buffy, what do you expect me to say? That you deserve
to kneel on rice
and say five Hail Mary's? I'm not going to do that and if you expect
me to, then march yourself
to the nearest Catholic church."

"I don't think you're understanding what this means Doyle."

"It means you're attracted to Spike. Who is a man that is NOT your
REAL brother.
Buffy, you spent four years without him as your brother. Did you not
see `Clueless'?"

"Oh great, so what you're saying is that I'm Alicia Silverstone and
he's Paul Rudd?"

"Exactly."

"Except NOT. Our parental units are still together. He's always been
referred to me as
my brother."

"We're talking in circles now. Are you going to bring him his damn
lunch or not?"

"Yes," she hissed and bounded to her feet. "But you're coming with
me!"

"Finally!"





She was his oasis. That was his only thought as he saw her trudging
across the open site
to him. He couldn't stop himself from staring, wiping the sweat from
his face as he watched
her. She had on loose gray capris and a tight white t-shirt. On her
head was the Red Sox had
he'd bought her, her hair spilling out underneath it. She held in her
hand a paper bag. Doyle
was a few steps behind her, trying to keep up with her.

He took off his hard hat and stood there, grinning like an idiot as
she approached.

"Who's that?" Xander Harris, his work mate and site manager asked
him, coming to
stand next to him.

"Buffy."

"Girlfriend?"

"Step sister."

"She's hot."

Spike glared at him. "That's my step sister, mate. Back off."

Xander held up his hands and backed away, "This is me, over here,
backing off."

"Hi," Buffy said, finally reaching him.

He smiled down at her, "Hi luv. What brings you out here?"

"You forgot your lunch," and she thrust the bag at him.

"Hi Spike," Doyle greeted him, grinning.

Spike nodded, "Hey Doyle. Wanted to apologize for my behavior
yesterday."

"Don't worry about it. I'd freak too if some strange good looking
man was on top of my
stepsister."

Buffy shot him a look. "You don't have a stepsister."

"That's why I said `if'," Doyle said as if she should have known
that.

Spike started to laugh. "Funny bloke, can see why you like him," he
told Buffy who was
scouring the site with her eyes. He was really hoping she wasn't
actually checking any of them
out.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you look at me, pet?"

Her eyes rolled to meet his. "What?"

He smiled and felt his insides constrict at the sight of her lovely
green eyes. "There she
is," he murmured.

"So, uh, yeah, your lunch. I put an extra water in there for you.
Are you drinking water
here?" she went back to looking around.

"Yeah, there's a bubbler and a fridge in the trailer full of water."

"Okay, good. You don't want to get dehydrated."

"Worried about me, kitten?"

"Well, yeah. I mean you are my brother. Wouldn't want anything to
happen to my
brother because you're my brother. You know what I mean brother?"

"Hey Buffy, is Spike your brother? Or STEPbrother?" Doyle
interjected.

"Stepbrother," Spike answered him, keeping his eyes on Buffy. She
was acting strange.
Fidgety, nervous. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?" she asked, squinting up at him.

"You're acting funny. You all right?"

"Yeah, I uh, I think it's the heat, I just need to –"

"Christ Buffy, you worry about me getting water?" he grabbed her arm
and started
dragging her with him to the trailer. "Let's get some water."

"Spike—"

"Have you eaten?"

"Spike—"

"I'll wait out here!" Doyle called cheerfully and waved.

Opening the door to the trailer, Spike noted it was empty and he
trudged across it to
open the fridge. He let Buffy's arm go as he grabbed a bottle, opened
it and handed it to her.

"I really have to learn to think before I speak," she muttered.

"What?"

She shook her head and chugged some water. "Nothing," she said when
she swallowed.
"Kay Dr. Giles, I think I'm all set now."

"I'm glad you came by," he told her softly. He was, he really,
really was. No matter how
wrong it possibly was. He'd been thinking of her all morning,
thinking of how he wanted to
take her out after, treat her to dinner so they could `bond' some
more. That was the thing about
his feelings for her; he had to feed the addiction. Couldn't stop
himself from feeding the
addiction. How could he be a sinner if she was his angel?

"Well, I couldn't let you starve. Doyle was actually pretty adamant
about that."

"Do you have plans later, Buffy?"

"No, why?"

"Maybe we could hang out?"

"Uh, sure."

Her scent was invading him, surrounding him and driving him wild.
Did she know
how gorgeous she was? She wasn't like any girl he'd ever come across.
She was real, never
fake. She didn't put on airs; she didn't try to be anything she
wasn't. She just was.

He reached out, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. She watched
him with wide eyes
and he found himself drowning in her. She had to go before he did
something he'd regret. "You
better get back to Doyle," he said softly.

She nodded. "Yeah, I better." She practically sprinted out of the
trailer and he stood
there, hard, aching and left wanting. Always left wanting when it
came to her.

"I must be as crazy as Dru."

Chapter Six

“Mom, can I ask you a question?” Buffy asked later that afternoon before Spike and Giles had arrived home and long after she had left Doyle. She sat on the bed in Joyce’s bedroom as her mom unloaded some laundry.

“Sure, honey, what is it?”

“What exactly happened with Drusilla? I mean, I know she went crazy, or rather
already was crazy, but what was it exactly?”

Joyce stopped what she was doing and stared at her daughter. “Has William told you
anything?”

“Some things. Just that she was crazy, he had to drive her to the institution and that she
had been unfaithful to him.”

Joyce nodded, “Well, yes, that is the sum of it.’

“Do you think he feels . . . responsible? I mean, I really think it troubled him a great
deal. Hence him coming home and the marathon phone calls he had with you.”

“Honey, it’s hard when you love someone and they become ill. She wasn’t of sound
mind and your brother spent a lot of time caring for her. I know he does feel that he could have
done more for her, that if he had maybe she wouldn’t have become so ill. He knows though
that there was nothing he could do.”

“So they don’t know what it was?”

“’Fraid not honey. That’s why she’s getting help now. To find out.”

“Has he said anything about it? Is he torturing himself?”

“He hasn’t said anything really. Just an overall sense I get from him.”

“Well, you always were very sensitive to William and his moods.”


“Yeah, I guess I was. Kind of forget the little things like that.”

Joyce patted her arm. “I remember.”

“Mom, can you not tell him that I was asking about Drusilla? I don’t want him to know that I was snooping. I told him I’d leave it alone.”

“Won’t say a word.”

“Say a word bout what?” a voice drawled from the doorway.

Both heads snapped to find Spike in the doorway dusty and with a sheen of sweat on
his forehead.

“I was just telling mom how I really think there’s no hope for your geekiness. She
agreed, but we were planning on keeping it on the down low.”

Spike chuckled and shook his head.

“How was the first day, honey?” Joyce asked, smiling at him.

“Good. Hot, tiring. . . but not bad. Hey Buffy, do you want to go to The Bronze tonight?
Xander, my boss invited me to hang out and play some pool. I figured if you wanted to get
some of your mates together, we could all go together, make it more fun.”

Buffy stood, “Oh I see. Because hanging out with your baby sister all alone is not fun
enough,” she teased as she started toward him.

His eyes widened. “No, Buffy, I didn’t mean it like that. I just remember—“

She looked up at him, “God, you’re easy.”

He gave her a look. “Brat.”

She smiled cheekily, “I know! Are you hungry? I was thinking we could order a pizza.”

He smiled warmly, “Sounds good luv.”

“I’ll order,” and she bounded down the stairs.

“Will honey?”

Spike looked over at Joyce. “Yeah?”

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Just wondering. Mom’s worry.”

Spike nodded, “Everything is just. . . peachy.”





“I’m just saying, what was wrong with what you had on earlier?” Spike asked as he and
Buffy entered The Bronze where they’d agreed to meet their ‘mates.’

“Spike, I was dressed like a bum. I’m not coming here dressed like a bum,” Buffy told
him.

“You didn’t look like a bum.”

“Okay, a tomboy.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with this?” she asked, gesturing to her outfit.

Nothing if you want me stay hard all night, Spike thought as he gazed at her jeans that
flared at the bottom, but hugged her ass like it was a second skin. Then there was the low
dipped, sleeveless white top. The boots she wore completed the look and God, she was
gorgeous.

“Do you dress like this for school?” he asked casually.

“No, Giles, I don’t.”

“Hey, no need to get cheeky, luv.”

“I see Doyle and Willow,” she said and waved, gazing at table across the room. Doyle
was waving madly at them.

They made their way to the table, Spike glaring daggers at all the tossers who dared
ogle Buffy on the way. She, of course, was perfectly oblivious. He was beginning to wonder if
Doyle’s friendship was a shield so that she didn’t have to deal with interest from the opposite
sex. She had yet to mention any boys she was interested in and when he’d asked Joyce over the
years about what Buffy was up to, she had never mentioned her dating anyone. Thank God.
Just the thought had his mind reeling. Even across the coast, he’d had to fight his jealousy. It
was positively unreal what she did to him without even realizing it.

He felt torn. He wanted to fight what he felt and yet couldn’t stop himself from seeking
her company. It was just like when they were kids. She always wanted to be with him and he
would allow it for a time until being around her and not being able to act on how he felt
became too much. Then he’d tell her to ‘get lost’. He knew she always wondered what she’d
done to make him angry, but it was himself he was angry at, not her. It was he whom he
blamed for . . . He wanted to scream, he wanted to tell her, tell her so she’d tell him he was the
one who was crazy and tell him to ‘get lost.’ If she gave voice to it, then maybe it’d sink in. But
when she looked up at him with those expressive green eyes all full of tenderness and
adoration. . . he was helpless. Of course its adoration, you git, you’re her older brother.
BROTHER. The voice in his head was good about reminding him when he got just a little too
close to her.

He needed to get just a little pissed and focus on something else. He’d keep his
brotherly distance and let her have her fun, and, if some git tried to make a pass at her, he’d let
them. If only to drive the point home that Buffy wasn’t his and never could be his.





“Hey Spike?” Xander waved a hand in front of his face.

Spike blinked and looked at him, “Yeah?”

“Where are you, man? I’ve been trying to get your attention to tell you to make your
shot. What are you looking at?”

“Nothing, I just—Does that guy look like he’s about to put his grubby paws on Buffy?”

Xander raised a brow. “Uh, seeing as he’s standing with his hands IN his pockets, no.”

“They’ve been talking for a long time now.”

“And?”

“And . . . My shot you say?”

Xander stared at him. “Stepsister you say?”

“What?”

“Spike, you’ve been watching your ‘stepsister’ all night. When you haven’t been making
comments about the guys that have come around her, you’ve been watching her as if you’d like
to devour her. What’s going on?”

“You’re off your rocker,” Spike huffed and focused his attention back at the pool table.

“Am I? Or am I sensing some lusty feelings for her?”

Spike glared at him.

“Listen, I’m not here to judge. . . Well, not much anyway. I’m just saying that you better
figure that shit out. I mean, you live in the same house with her right?”

Spike nodded slowly.

“And you’re all a happy nuclear family right?”

Spike looked down.

“It’s a little . . . gross.”

Spike wouldn’t look up. He stared at the pool table, ashamed.

“I’m not saying that I wouldn’t—“

Spike looked up and glared daggers.

“I’m just saying that. . . You know it’d probably be wrong of you to do something
right?”

Spike looked down again, feeling suddenly that he wanted to cry. And hide.

“Maybe you should, I don’t know, get a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, they’re just lining up for me, Harris. Got a string of em’. Did you not hear me
when I said I just got divorced not too long ago?” Spike snapped at him.

“I’m just saying that maybe instead of ogling Buffy and being all overprotective, maybe
you should be checking out the buffet of women here tonight. I’ve noticed quite a few looking
your way.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed, “Like who?”

“Oh, like that one,” he pointed to the bar to a brunette, “the red head across the room
and the—hey, the blond that looks like she’s on her way over now.”

Spike’s head whipped to where Xander was pointing and watched as a blond, with long
flowing locks much like Buffy’s sauntered over with a smirk on her red heart shaped mouth.
She eyed him like he was prey. Spike wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The smoldering look
she was giving him made him uncomfortable—which was saying a lot.

“Hello gorgeous,” the woman purred at him, running a hand down his arm. “I’ve been
watching you.”

Glancing over at Buffy who was still talking to white bread, and then to Xander who
was giving him a thumbs up, Spike took a deep breath and smiled. “Hi, I’m Spike. What’s your
name?”

“Harmony. Care to dance?”

Spike smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His heart was just not into this. His heart
was into . . . Well, it was into someone he just couldn’t have. Xander was right; if he planned to
shake this obsession with Buffy, he should start by finding someone he COULD have. A
healthy relationship, yes, that’s what he needed.

But was it healthy to choose a girl that sort of looked like Buffy?







“Buffy, is that Harmony Kendall draped over your Spike like a second skin?”
Doyle asked and pointed to the dance floor.

Buffy’s attention immediately piqued, looked toward the floor and stared at the
spectacle of Spike and Harmony entwined together on the dance floor. She gulped, a feeling
foreign to her bubbling up inside. It made her skin hot, it made the room spin and it made her
want to yank the slut off of Spike.

“Yeah, it appears that way,” Buffy murmured.

“Doesn’t that make you just want to claw her eyes out?” Doyle asked in her ear.

“Nope, not at all,” she said turning to Doyle with her arms crossed.

“No?” Doyle pressed. “Not even a little?”

“If I did, which I don’t, it would only be because he is my brother and Harmony is –“

“A barracuda?” Doyle supplied.

“And I wouldn’t want him to get hurt. Or contract an STD.”

“Well, hold on to your hats gentlemen because it looks as if Slutney of Sluttown is
moving in for the kill,” Doyle observed.

Buffy turned in time to see Spike in a heavy lip lock with Buffy’s long time nemesis. Her heart dropped to her toes.

“Doyle?” she said in a small voice.

“Yeah honey?”

“I wanna go home.”

“Do you want to claw her eyes out yet?”

“I – I just want to go home.”

“All right, Buffy, let’s go home.”

Chapter Seven

Buffy lay in the darkness of her best friend's room after she settled in his bed. Buffy had decided she did not want to go home in case Spike did try to bring Harmony there. She really did not want to hear or see anything. She didn't even want to know about it. If she could strike herself ignorant to what she'd seen, erase it completely from her memory and stop replaying it over and over in her mind, she'd happily do it.

She'd called her mother and told her she'd be staying at Doyle's that night, which, of course was no big deal since Doyle's home was like her second home.

"Is Spike still out?" Joyce had asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, mom, he's still out. I was getting really tired and –"

"Was he drinking a lot Buffy?"

"No, mom. Plus, Xander, his friend from work was with him. Spike can be pretty responsible, mom."

"I just worry about you two."

"Well, I'm here and I'm fine. Just tired," she yawned for effect. "Night mom."

Doyle hadn't said much about what they'd seen. Didn't let anything on to what she was
feeling. He knew better than to badger her. She'd come clean in her own time.

"Doyle?" Buffy asked, disrupting the deafening silence of the room.

"Yeah?" Doyle asked back from the fold out couch in his room as Buffy had the bed.

"It bothers me."

"What do you mean?"

"You're going to make me spell it out aren't you?" she sighed.

"Buffy, you know as well as I do that I can't ‘make' you do anything. I think it'd help
though if you said out loud. Sometimes when you keep things in like that, it's almost as if they
aren't real and don't exist."

"Then that would actually benefit me to make it not real."

"Except that keeping things in like that will just torment you until you give voice to it.
Being able to work through it is the best way to go."

"You just want the gossip."

"Buffy, I just want you to be happy."

"Okay, okay, okay. . . It bothered me to see Spike making out with Harmony."

"Why?"

"Aside from the fact that she's a tramp and is the bane of my existence?"

"Yes."

Buffy was quiet for a minute, mustering up her courage. "I didn't want him kissing
her," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Argh! You're doing this on purpose."

"Just say it out loud Buffy. Give voice to it so it doesn't beat you up."

"Because I wanted him to be kissing me. It's crazy, Doyle. Tell me it's crazy."

"Why would I tell you that?"

"So that it doesn't beat me up anymore!"

"But it's still there isn't it? If I told you that it was crazy and sick, it would still be there."

"But it's WRONG!"

"We've been over this Buffy. He's not really your brother!"

"Yeah, but—"

"Buffy, were you ever attracted to him before?"

"I," she started and then stopped, thinking. After a minute, "I don't think I'd ever
thought of it . . . I mean, yeah I'd noticed him. But I never put much thought into why I . . . I . ."

"Put him on a pedestal? Wanted to be around him all the time? I've heard you talk
about him Buffy. I've seen the look you get on your face. Some part of you, whether you
recognized it or not was attracted to him beyond sibling love. However, you were just a child
then. And then he left.
Cut to four years later. You've barely had any contact with him, you've had separate lives and you've grown up. Which, you told him as much too. You've built him up in your head more, and yet at the same time, demoted him a few notches because of how he ignored you all this time. You've felt protective of him, possibly even jealous of his marriage—"

"I never—"

"I said possibly. He's not the same anymore and neither are you. You're both adults. . . well, to some extent you are."

That earned a pillow being flung across the room and knocking Doyle off the side of the head.

"Case in point," he teased. Then sobered. "You saw him as a man today Buffy. Your reaction to him was of one of a woman reacting to a man. Despite what society or your parents might tell you about your relationship to him, he is not really your step brother and some part of you is aware of that. So aware that it caused you to become jealous over Harmony.
It's not wrong Buffy. He's not really your brother so it's not really incest. Telling yourself how ‘wrong' it is and how ‘dirty' it is, will only drive you crazy."

"So then what do I do now? Do I tell him I'm having these . . . reactions to him? I mean, I don't know that they are feelings so much as reactions at this point."

"I think you need to give Spike some time."

"What do you mean ‘give him some time? What are you talking about?" Buffy demanded.

"I'll let you know when to tell him."

"How do you know when—"

"Trust me Buffy," Doyle said firmly.

"But—"

"Just trust me on this. Give him some time."


It was a bad idea. The whole thing was just a bad idea. He knew it from the start. And yet he thought if he just gave himself over to the moment—he'd find some kind of freedom. Like something would snap within him and all those feelings for Buffy would dissipate, cease to exist.

You can't erase six years of longing for one person like that.

And, you can't expect it to happen by pretending its them on their knees with their lips wrapped around your hard member.

You also can't say their name out loud and hope that it falls on deaf ears.

"What?!" Harmony screeched and bolted up from her spot on the floor in front of him. She swiped at her mouth as Spike closed his eyes, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one.

"Harm—"

"You mack on me out there on that dance floor—" she gestured to where the pulsating music was coming from. "And you tell me you want me and so I bring you here to have me and you call me someone else's name? Not even just ‘someone' either. Buffy Summers!"

Spike's eyes widened. "You know my si—Buffy?"

"That little uppity bitch? Yeah, I know her."

Spike's jaw clenched and he tucked himself back in his pants and zipped up. "She's not an uppity bitch," he snarled at her.

"Please. She's a prude. She thinks she's better than everybody else."

"Everybody else meaning you?" Spike asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harmony flipped her hair over her shoulder. "At least I know how to have a good time."

"So taking strange men you just met into the backroom of a dance club is your usual MO and Buffy, who would NEVER do something like that, doesn't know how to have a good time? Why? Because she doesn't ‘put out' for the first hard dick that comes around?"

Harmony poked him in the chest with a perfectly manicured red nail. "Like you're one to talk. You were willing to put out for the first pussy that came around."

Spike hung his head. She was completely right. "Look, Harmony, I'm sorry okay? I just—"

Harmony held up her hand. "I don't even want to hear it."

"Can we keep this between us please?"

Harmony rolled her eyes. "Like I want anyone to know I almost hooked up with some pathetic loser."

"You're ever so kind," Spike said dryly.

Harmony shrugged and stalked out of the room.

Spike sighed and slumped against the wall, hitting his head on the wall. How dumb was he?

"Dude?" Xander.

"Yeah?"

Xander came round the corner. "So? How was it?"

"It wasn't."

Xander's eyes widened. "Why not?"

"I don't really want to get into with you right now all right? I just want to get Buffy and go home," Spike said, suddenly feeling weary. He just really wanted to shut his brain off for a bit.

"Buffy's not out there, man."

Spike jerked to attention. "What? Did you see her leave?"

"Well, no I didn't actually see her leave, but I was looking for her. You know, keeping an eye out for her while you were uh—"

"Yeah, yeah—and she's not out there?"

"No."

"Where the bloody—FUCK! She could have left with that bleedin wanker!"

Spike pushed Xander aside in his haste to get back into the club. His eyes devoured the crowd, searching for signs of the wanker she'd been talking to for so long. He was nowhere to be found.

"Fuck! Now I've lost her and I don't have her cell number." Spike reached into his pocket and dialed home. "Mum? Buffy home?"

"No honey, she's at Doyle's."

A wave of relief washed over him. "Thank God."

"Did you two get into a fight?" Joyce asked.

"No, mum. . .Listen, do you have her cell number? I just need to talk to her."

**Thank you everyone!!!**

Chapter Eight

The ringing of Buffy's cell didn't wake Buffy. Doyle, feeling slightly restless, snatched her phone from the floor before it did wake her.

"Buffy's phone."

"Doyle?"

"Spike?"

"Yeah, hi—Buffy there?"

"She is. She's sleeping."

"Oh."

"How's Harmony?" Doyle couldn't help himself from asking.

"What's her deal with Buffy?"

Doyle sighed. "Oh they hate each other."

"Gathered as much. Why?"

Doyle took a deep breath and stepped out of his room, padding down the hall and shutting the door behind him in his fathers study.

"Doyle? You still there?"

"Yeah, sorry. I left the room so I wouldn't wake Sleeping Beauty."

"Wait. She's sleeping in your room?"

Doyle grinned; he could have fun with this. "Yep. In my bed."

"I thought you were gay!" Spike yelled into the phone.

"I am. I'm sleeping on the pull out couch in my room."

"Oh," Spike said calmly, sounding embarrassed.

"So, Harmony and Buffy. . . Harmony moved to Sunnydale when Buffy was
a junior in high school."

"When did you and Buffy meet?"

"Senior year. This is the story as I understand it from Buffy's mouth."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Harmony hailed from L.A. and she was popular there. She came here and
knew no one. Buffy felt bad for the ‘new kid' and took her under her wing.
Well, time passed and Harmony realized that being friends with Buffy was
not getting her part of the ‘in' crowd that she so desired to be part of. You
know Buffy, she isn't much of a follower."

"I know," Spike said fondly. "She's a leader that one."

"Yes, well, Harmony is sheep. She is a follower. And, to become part of the ‘in' crowd, she spread rumors about Buffy—some true, some not true. Considering all the so called popular kids at Sunnydale talked trash about everyone, it elevated Harmony to Queen B."

"That cold hearted bitch," Spike swore harshly.

"Exactly. Since then, they've been at each others throats."

"Did Buffy spread any rumors about her to get her back?"

"No. She said she wasn't going to stoop to Harmony's level and was going to
take the high road."

"Not sure I would have been able to do that," Spike chuckled.

"However, now Harmony attends University with Buffy and Harmony still
tries to make her life hell. Just for the fun of it. Apparently she's forgotten
that you're supposed to grow up from high school drama once you attend
college."

"That bloody bitch..."

"So. You can understand why Buffy made with the leaving tonight."

Spike groaned, "She saw us?"

"Fraid so."

"Shit," Spike muttered.

"Virgin ears!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I –"

"I'm just kidding. You can say whatever the fuck you want."

Spike laughed. Then, sobering, "Is she mad at me?"

Doyle pondered how to approach this one. "I don't think she's exactly
angry, but making out with her arch enemy on the dance floor was
probably not what Buffy wanted to see."

"I didn't know that—"

"How could you? You were gone before it all happened."

Spike sighed. "That's it right there. I wasn't there."

"You're here now."

"Yeah . . . I wish I'd never – I'm not with her, Doyle."

"Harmony?"

"Right. I couldn't –she wasn't my type."

"And what is your type Spike?"

"Uh, women first of all," Spike said carefully.

Doyle rolled his eyes. "I wasn't hitting on you, Spike. Although I will be
hitting you up for questions on your friend Xander."

"Xander?"

"That's his name right?"

"I don't think he's—"

"Oh honey, he so is," Doyle chuckled.

Spike started to laugh. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh, that was rude of me."

"I don't offend easily."

"So is Buffy—I mean, she's all right?"

"She's fine. Just wasn't happy to see you trading spit with Harmony. She
worries about you, you know."

"I know," Spike said softly. "I worry about her too."

"I know."

"Can you let her know I called?"

"Of course."

"And could you tell her that—could you tell her I'm sorry?"

"I will."

"I'm glad she has you in her life, Doyle."

"Thanks, Spike. Means a lot coming from someone who means so much to
her." Doyle paused, waiting to see if he took some of that bait.

Silence. Then, "I – I mean a lot to her?"

"If I may borrow British slang for a minute—She think you hung the bloody
moon."

"She does?"

Doyle could practically see Spike smiling from the phone.

"She does."

"Doyle, can you tell me what her schedule is tomorrow? I'd like to catch her
at some point if I could . . . "

Doyle grinned, God, he was good at this!



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

"So, he didn't, you know, hook up with her?" Buffy asked for the
thousandth time the following day.

"I didn't get the impression they fornicated, no. You've only asked me a
trillion times, but what's a trillion and one really?"

Buffy smacked his chest. "Shut up. Stand further back, I want to really practice."

Doyle shook his head and backed up some more. Buffy confided she felt the need to whale on something and figured that it was time to practice her batting as she planned to try out for softball the following spring.

"Does it make me less gay to actually enjoy baseball?" Doyle asked her.

Buffy giggled, "I don't think so, honey."

Doyle pitched and Buffy smiled with satisfaction at the sound of the
wooden bat making contact with the ball. It went flying over Doyle's head.
Good thing he had a pile of balls next to him, no doubt about it that Buffy
was a good hitter.

"Feeling any better?" Doyle asked.

Buffy shrugged and got into her stance. "Pitch the ball."

"You're so bossy!"

She grinned and he pitched again. She missed.

"You swing like a girl."

Buffy relaxed her stance and turned to see Spike standing a few feet away,
smiling at her.

She smiled back and then frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm off work and Mum said you came to the park to practice."

"Yeah, I felt like hitting something," she said pointedly.

He sauntered over. "Buffy, I didn't know about you and Harmony."

"How could you have? You weren't here."

"You're right, I wasn't. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, please."

"I'll try," he reached out and brushed some dust off her cheek. He smiled
warmly.

"Sorry, I didn't tell you I was leaving," she mumbled, looking down. Just a
simple touch on her cheek and she felt a tremble run through her.

"I was worried."

"Yeah, Doyle said you called."

"I did. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I was fine. What about you? How was the Public Display of Affection?
Everything you wished for and more?"

He looked down, kicked some dirt. "She's not a very nice person."

"That's a nice way of saying she's a ho. Did you get what you wanted out of
her?"

Spike shook his head. "No. I wasn't thinking Buffy."

"You didn't have sex with her?"

"No, Buffy, I didn't."

"Why were you making out with her like that?"

Spike ran a hand through his hair, "I was upset. I was trying to get over
something that's probably never going to go away and . . . I thought if I just
lost myself in the moment maybe I could forget for a little while."

Buffy bit her lip. "Oh," she looked up him, "Is it Drusilla? Was she on your
mind last night?"

He sighed heavily and looked away.

"You can tell me. You can tell me anything Spike."

He shook his head and she swore she saw tears in his eyes. "No, Buffy. I
can't tell you everything." He turned around and started walking away.

"Spike!" she called after him unsure as to what just happened.

"I'll see you when you get home," he called back, not bothering to turn
around.

"What the hell happened?" Doyle asked, jogging up next to her.

"I don't know. He said he was macking on Harmony to forget about
something, to make it go away, and that it didn't work. I asked if it was
Drusilla and he said no, but that he couldn't tell me."

Doyle nodded knowingly and wrapped a comforting arm around her.

"Did he say something to you last night?" Buffy demanded.

"Not about that which he's trying to forget."

Buffy looked up at her friend suspiciously. "You know something, don't
you?"

"Remember how I said last night that it wasn't the right time to tell him?"

Buffy knit her brows, confused. "Yeah?"

"I think now is the right time Buffy."

Chapter Nine

Buffy hated mysteries. She also hated when someone kept something from her because it was best that she ‘find out on her own’. What if she didn’t want to find out on her own? Childish, yes, but she couldn’t help it. Doyle had been all cryptic with giving Spike some time before she told him she was . . . ‘reacting’ to things and now he was being all cryptic on how now was a good time. He knew something and he was keeping it from her.

Not like she was going to say anything anyway for crying out loud. What was she supposed to do? Rush home, corner Spike and say, “I’ve been feeling things for you…” Ri-ight. And monkey MIGHT fly out of her ass.

However, Spike was keeping something from her and
she did want to know what it was. Whatever it was, she felt
it was the key to the Doyle being cryptic, to his behavior with
Harmony and to the feeling she’d been having that he’d
been ‘haunted’ by something. She knew it had to do with
Drusilla, but she was getting the sense there was a missing
piece somewhere. A missing piece she desperately needed
to fit the puzzle together.

When she got home from practice with Doyle, her
dinner had already been put in the fridge. Giles and Joyce
had gone out to a movie and Spike was holed up in his room.

Buffy stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up and
trying to gather her courage. She had to talk to him. She didn’t
necessarily have to tell him anything, but she did want to get
to the bottom of this and dammit, she would.

She jumped a mile when Spike appeared in her view.

“What are you doing staring up at the stairs?” he
asked her.

“I was –What are you doing?”

He thought she was crazy probably. She didn’t much
care. She pretty much accepted that she was. Sort of.

He started his descent down the stairs. “I’m going to
get the paper.”

“Oh? Anything interesting?”

“Aside from what’s new in the world? Apartments,”
he said and walked by her.

“Apartments?” She questioned, following him into the
living room where Giles had strewn the paper on the coffee
table.

“Yeah,” was his short reply.

“You looking to move already? Do you—do you hate it
here that much?” she asked in a small voice, beginning to feel
the strain of separation already.

“Buffy, don’t start.”

Her eyes bugged. “I’m not starting, I asked a question.”

“I don’t hate it here that much, okay? I just can’t stay
here forever.”

“Hello, you were gone for four years. You haven’t
even been here a week!”

“This is one of those times Buffy where I’m going to
tell you to bugger off.”

Oh that’s it. She crossed her arms across her
chest. “Yeah? This is one of those times where I tell you to
shove it up your ass!”

He glared at her, but said nothing. The paper, in his
hand, forgotten.

“I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but I’m
getting really tired of it. You’re sad and you won’t talk about
it—not even with Mom this time around – You won’t talk to me
about it despite how you PROMISED to let me in. You act like
a hornball at the Bronze last night and then you storm off
today when I ask you what’s wrong with you. Now you’re
what? Looking to run away again? I can’t even ask you about
apartment hunting without you foaming at the mouth and
barking at me. So, is it something I did? Is it Drusilla? Mom?
Dad? Work? What the fuck is it Spike? Because you know
what? I’m tired of this secretive crap!”

“I’m 23 years old Buffy, I can’t live with Mommy and Daddy for
the rest of my life!”

“I’m not asking you to do that—I just want to know what’s
going on with you! I care about what happens to you, Spike. I
care about what’s haunting you ever since you’ve come back
and I want to help. That’s all I want to do.” All her anger
dissipated and now she was welling up in tears, desperate
to understand why he kept pulling away and wanting to keep
him close. She was beginning to suspect that Doyle was
right about her feelings for Spike being more than just sisterly
caring from when they were kids. It irked her, and yet at that
moment she couldn’t focus on it too much. She just wanted
answers.

He stared at her, trembling slightly, something lurking in his
eyes that she couldn’t define. “What is it that you want to
hear Buffy? That I drove Drusilla crazy? That I’m dirty and
wrong ---that I hurt the girl because I – “ he stopped, his eyes
brimming with tears.

Buffy moved forward, placing her hand on his arm
gently, “Tell me Spike. Please. It’s okay.”

He met her eyes, his eyes brimming with tears. “It’s you,” he
finally whispered. “You that haunts me. You that I can’t get
out of my mind . . . God help me Buffy, it’s always been about
you.”

Her gasp was swallowed by his lips on hers. His lips. Oh
god, his lips. Smooth and soft, full and so . . . perfect. She’d
never been kissed like that before. Men playing at boys were
all she’d ever had—it was the reason why she’d never given
her heart away, never given her virginity to anyone. She
wondered in the recesses of her mind, if it was because she
was waiting for Spike.

He had her hauled up against him, his hard body pressing
against hers, holding on to her as if he were afraid to let go.
Her hands rested on his biceps and she could feel the
tension in them as he held her tightly. His lips roamed over
hers, tasting her, dipping his tongue inside when she parted
her lips just a smidge. She was aware distantly that she
moaned. He was devouring her and God help her it felt so
good and so . . . right.

“Buffy, Buffy, Buffy,” he groaned, breaking the kiss, his
breath upon her face.

She stared up at him in wonder, trying to grasp the feelings
coursing through, trying to name just one and put voice to it.

He cupped her face in his hands and closed his eyes. The
sound of a car door slamming jarred them back open.

“Mum and Dad are home,” he said and released her. He
jogged to the door, opened it and left.

Buffy stood there, confused, scared and wondering if she
were even standing there anymore.

“Hey honey, where’d Spike take off to?”

Buffy looked at her mom. “I – I don’t know. He just . . . he just
left.”

Giles gave her a funny look. “You all right? Did you two have
a right?”

Buffy shook her head, “No we definitely didn’t have a fight. I
thought you were going to the movies?”

“We were, but your mother checked the wrong paper for the
times. We missed it.”
“Oh. Well, um, I’m uh, going to go see Doyle,” Buffy said,
heading towards the door.

“Okay honey, have a good time!”

Once outside she pursed her lips together. Okay, she
thought, if I were Spike, where would I have gone?

Chapter Ten

She'd been walking for over an hour now. She'd been to The Bronze, to the local coffee shop, to the park. She knew Spike well enough to know that when he was upset, he didn't seek company, he sought solitude. She was thinking though that all this walking was good for her. It was giving her time to relax, to think, to clear her mind. She hadn't really come to many conclusions, only questions. Questions that only Spike could answer if she could just find him.

Heading back home, she dug her hands in her jean pockets and said a silent prayer to whatever deity was listening that they grant her peace of mind. She had a feeling she was going to be needing it.

Climbing up to her window, she wondered if she should instead crawl into Spike's room and wait for him. She'd make him talk to her if it was the last thing she did that night.

"Where the hell did you go now?"

Buffy fell into her room, Spike's voice unexpected and therefore scaring the crap out of
her. She looked up at him from her spot on the floor and glared.

"You're not so good at this sneaking thing," he observed with a slight frown, arms
crossed.

"I've had no problems until you came back. It doesn't help when a certain someone
scares the crap out of me everytime I'm on my way in."

He held out his hand. "Sorry."

She took his hand and helped her up. He moved quickly away, turning his back on her. He found her bureau suddenly interesting and started picking up her bottles of perfume, lotions and hair accessories.

"Spike, we need to talk," she told him on a sigh, sitting on her bed.

He froze. "I know."

"So do you want to start or—"

He turned around and faced her. "I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry."

That hurt. Her face fell. "You shouldn't have kissed me?"

He nodded, looking down.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked softly.

He nodded again.

"I'm kind of not sorry," she admitted.

His head snapped up. "What?"

"It was. . . nice."

"Nice?"

She nodded.

He shook his head. "No, Buffy, it was wrong."

"Well, see I thought it was wrong when I started having these feelings – or I called them
‘reactions', but Doyle just rolled his eyes—"

"Wait, what? You started having feelings? When?"

She gulped, squirming under his intense blue gaze. "Uh, yesterday. Wow. Yesterday
seems like so long ago, doesn't it?"

"You were having feelings for me?"

"Yeah, and I thought it was wrong."

"Thought? So you don't think so anymore?"

"Well, I'm starting to think it isn't. It still feels a little. . . icky."

He nodded, his eyes sad. "That's because it is."

"But it felt right, didn't it? It did to me."

"Buffy, kissing you is something I've—" he broke off, shaking his head. "If you only
knew how I'd wanted it for so long."

"How long?" she asked softly. The territory they were starting on was unknown and
terrifying and yet she couldn't stop herself from asking.

"Buffy, I don't want to do this."

She jumped up, "Why not?"

"Because it's playing with fire."

"Fine, would you feel more comfortable talking about it outside, downstairs, with a
mediator—where? You can't just lay the best kiss I've ever had on me and then run off like that.
I'm confused, I want to know what's happening and you just – you just –RUN. Do you know
how damn annoying that is? I've got questions dammit. Legitimate questions that you should
be answering here."

"Sometimes it's best to leave things alone Buffy. Sometimes knowledge is a good thing,
but sometimes it can get you into trouble when you know too much . . . Best kiss you say?"

"You know all this time I always thought that some guy had some pretty big shoes to
fill because of you. I always wanted someone as cool and as courageous as my big brother—"

"That's just it right there, Buffy. BROTHER."

"Shut up and let me finish," she snapped.

He held up his hands. "Finish."

"So here I was thinking that you were the greatest thing ever. Here I was hoping that
some guy would be as sweet as you could be and as smart and as kind. I never really thought
until this afternoon that maybe what I was really wanting was you. I just placed all that on
some imaginary guy because, as you said –BROTHER. And then I started having these weird
feelings for you that I really think were just there all this time waiting for me to realize them ..." Her eyes welled up in tears. "And then you kiss me and run from me and . . . then you stand
here when I have all these questions and all these –fucking feelings—and you –you know
what? You're not as courageous as I thought you once were. You're a coward. So maybe you
helped me figure some things out. Maybe, just maybe all of those feelings were just me STILL
putting you up on a pedestal."

"I don't deserve to be put on a pedestal Buffy," he said softly, his voice trembling.

"You're right. Thanks for jumping down from your position. If you're not willing to talk to me about what all this means and what happened earlier and what's been obviously happening all along then I think you should leave."

Spike nodded abruptly, looking very much sorry, and walked out of her room. Buffy closed her eyes when the door clicked shut and started to cry. Sitting down on her bed, she blindly reached for her phone and called the one person in the world she could always count on: Doyle.

Spike heard her leave the house once more. Instinctively, he knew she was going to see Doyle. He swiped at his tears and buried his head in his hands. What the fuck was he thinking kissing her like that? And God, it was the best kiss of HIS life and he knew, just KNEW that no one could ever compare to her. No one ever could before and no one ever would. He could hear Dru's voice in his head, the anger in her voice, the hurt in her eyes. She asked him time and again why he couldn't push Buffy away, why she haunted him, why she always saw his Golden Princess dancing all around him. She'd said he was covered with her and despite how he'd tried to hide it, shove it from his mind, it was always there.

Dru had blamed him for it all. Said he was responsible for her ‘sampling other goodies'. Said it was because of him she was being driven round the bend. Because he couldn't let Buffy go and that it was sick and wrong and sick and . . . wrong. It played like a broken record in his mind. She begged him to fix her and love her, just her. Yet, he couldn't. He loved Buffy and because of that love, he drove Dru to insanity.

Buffy would hate him if she knew he was the one that drove Drusilla mad. And God, he did want to tell her. Wanted to find peace in her arms and have her tell him that it was all right, that he wasn't a bad person.

The doctors had told him that Drusilla had a history of being in and out of mental hospitals. They'd said that she was only trying to take her down with him, that she enjoyed power games. But Spike knew. He knew it was his fault, that he had locked her forever away to be treated by strangers, to have her mind gone and to never be allowed in the world again because he loved Buffy. He loved Buffy and the only reason he ever married Drusilla in the first place was to try and put Buffy behind him.

Now, despite it all, he still loved her as much as he had when he'd left, while he was away and ever since he'd been back.

He whimpered, "Forgive me," and succumbed to the tears.

Chapter Eleven

Buffy's attention span was minimal, which was why she'd opted to skip class the following day. Plus, she was exhausted from being up all night bitching and crying to Doyle about Spike shutting her out yet again. This time, it cut even deeper because there things there – feelings not ‘reactions' – that she'd never felt before and since Spike was the one stirring them all up inside her, he was the one she wanted to figure it out with. Yet, he didn't want her. Or, at least, he felt it was wrong to want her, which in turn made her feel as if she were dirty for wanting him. It was a dirty cycle.

Apparently she'd exhausted Doyle too since he was skipping class with her, lying beside her on the warm, soft grass in the middle of the quad with his eyes closed. She wasn't sure if he was actually napping, but her mind was racing too much to contemplate sleep.

"See, this is why you never get any boyfriends."

Buffy rolled her eyes. Just what she needed: Harmony. Buffy sat up and
stared at the blond twit. "Now my day is complete," she said dryly.

"Especially not with your bitch hanging around all the time," Harmony
continued on, ignoring Buffy's comment.

Doyle sat up then, and placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "I'm her
bitch now? I was certain it was the other way around. Color me informed."

"What's wrong Harm? Spike leave your ego feeling a little dented when he
wouldn't take you up on your offer to be his whore for the night?" Buffy
smirked.

She was more than a little surprised when Harmony smirked back and her
eyes glittered in that ‘I know something you don't know and you're going to
hate it' way. She'd seen that look on Harmony before well enough to know
that was the reason why her heart dropped to her stomach.

"That what he told you? Such a gentleman, not wanting to hurt his paragon
of virtue."

"Oh. My. God." Doyle gasped mockingly. "Harmony – you really ARE
getting an education here and not just freeloading on Daddy's money. Such
a big word for you to use. Paragon. And you used it in the right context!"
Doyle golf clapped. "Well done."

Buffy ignored him though, only focusing on what Harmony said. She stood.
"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, we . . . well, we had some fun," Harmony giggled, twirling her hair
with her hand.

"We saw the kissing you ignorant boob," Doyle said and stood next to
Buffy.

"That's not ALL the fun we had."

"You're lying," Buffy whispered.

"Am I? Then how would I know that Spike goes commando? Or that he
has a tiny little scar on his left thigh?"

"You're lying," Buffy whispered again, but she knew for once the girl
wasn't.

"Why don't you ask Spike? He was quite yummy," Harmony giggled again
and bounced off.

Doyle grabbed Buffy's arm. "Buffy—"

"I'm going to fucking kill him."



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



She wasn't aware of what Doyle was saying to her as she determinedly
made her way to the construction site to see Spike. All she kept see was
Harmony and Spike . . . doing things. All she could focus on was her anger
and her hurt. Granted, Spike didn't know that Harmony was the bane of
her existence, nor did she have any hold of him at that time but . . . But
dammit she was jealous! She was more jealous now than she had been that
night and so very angry. Not only had he lied but he went and desecrated
everything he'd told her about ‘waiting' and ‘being in love'. He was a
hypocrite! He kept Buffy as his virgin and made Harmony his whore. Not
that Harmony wasn't already, but he lied!

She saw him hammering away on a piece of wood, the sweat pouring off
him, his muscles rippling under his t-shirt and she paused in her
determination.

He was beautiful.

All that beauty was with Harmony, the voice in her head reminded her.
Yep, he was tainted beauty now. Her fists balled into fists and her jaw
clenched as she marched towards him.

Someone must have alerted him to her presence because he stood and
looked over, looking surprised. Then, he smiled gently for a brief moment
until she got closer and then he looked uncertain.

"Hey, pet, to what do I owe this honor?" he asked carefully.

Those lips that had been on her just the night before had been on
Harmony's lips and possibly—those hands, those strong hands and those
strong arms that held her had done the same—possibly more—to Harmony.


"Do you have a scar on your left thigh?" she asked angrily.

He furrowed his brow, "What?"

"Do you or don't you?"

"Yeah, a small one. I got it when—"

She never let him finish. Her rage bubbled forth and she hauled off and
punched him right in the gut with all her might. He doubled over.

Her eyes widened as she watched him hunch over, gasping for air.

"Okay, then, let's get you out of here Muhammad Ali," Doyle said and took
Buffy's hand, tugging on her to move.

She felt frozen, which explained why she nearly fell over her own feet
when she tried to walk with Doyle.

"Buffy—wait," Spike burst out.

Harmony's smirking face came back to haunt her and Buffy shook her
head, "No."

"What's going on, Buffy, wait!" Spike rushed after her, grabbing her arm,
one arm around his middle. "Buffy, I know you're angry with me but—"

"Tell me nothing happened with you and Harmony," Buffy interrupted.

His eyes widened, pretty much telling her everything she needed to know.

"You lied to me," Buffy hissed, her voice shaking with anger and hurt.

"Buffy, what did she tell you?" Spike asked, the panic rising in his voice.

"What does it matter? It's true isn't it? Just say it Spike. Just tell me you
lied to me."

He hung his head.

"I hate you," whispered, her eyes welling up in tears.

"Buffy, no, please don't say that," he begged, pulling her closer to him.

She slapped his hand away, "Don't touch me."

"Buffy—" he started.

"Buffy, honey, let's go," Doyle soothed, bringing her closer to him,
wrapping an arm around her to comfort and calm her.

"Doyle," Spike started to plead.

"Not right now," Doyle snapped. "Just leave it alone right now unless you
want one of these two by fours shoved up your ass and trust me, it WON'T be
by her!"

Spike stopped, nodding dumbly. "I'm sorry."

Doyle shook his head in disapproval before leading Buffy away as tears
seeped from her eyes.

"Dude, what did you do?" Xander asked, coming up beside him.

"I hurt the girl," Spike whispered.

Chapter Twelve

"Organs don't feel emotions," Buffy said as she was curled up in a ball on Doyle's bed. Doyle sat beside her, rubbing her back gently.


"Yes, that's true," Doyle said slowly.


"Then why does your heart ache when you're hurt? I don't understand it. It pumps blood, it doesn't . . . it's not supposed to feel. My spleen and my liver don't hurt when my feelings are hurt. So then what is it about the heart? Why does it feel as if someone is squeezing it?"

"Squeezing?"


"Yes, squeezing. Just enough to stop it from doing its job properly. Just enough to make this incredible ache that makes me want to rip it out so I don't feel it anymore. I feel like it could just stop beating. Like I could have a heart attack from it aching so much."

"Oh Buffy, I wish I could stop the ache for you," Doyle said sadly.

Buffy rolled over onto her back and looked up at him. "Why do you have to be gay?"


He smiled gently. "Why do you have to be a girl?"

She smiled wanly back and then rolled back over. "You don't mind if I
stay here tonight?"


"Of course not. And you know my parents think of you as the daughter
they never had. So really you're just letting them live out a fantasy by
being here."


"My parents are going to start wondering why I don't want to be home
anymore," she murmured into the pillow.


"Eh, not really. You still spend the same amount of time here as always."

"My mother was hoping Spike and I would get close."


"Which part hurts you more? The part where he lied or the part where it
was Harmony?"


She contemplated that for a minute. "Both," she finally said. Then, "Well,
to be fair he didn't know about my history with Harmony. . . but it's just the
thought that some girl comes around . . . And especially after all the crap he
spewed about how important it was to wait for someone special."


"Playing devils advocate here, but maybe he just meant that you should wait for someone special when it's your first time."


"So then all bets are off after that?" She shook her head. "He just doesn't want me to have sex. He wants me to stay all virginal and sweet—"

"After that punch you laid on him today, I doubt he'll be quick to use
‘sweet' as the first adjective to describe you."


Buffy giggled slightly.


"There's a little giggle," Doyle said lightly, poking her side.

"Still, Doyle. He went on about how he slept with the girl he loved –
and then married, mind you—but then Harmony comes along and—What is
that all about?"


"Did you ever think he took up with her because he couldn't have the girl
he really wanted?"


She rolled over and looked back up at him. "You mean me?"

Doyle nodded.

She wrinkled her nose. "Gross. Harmony was my substitute."


"It's just a theory Buffy."

"Then he lied to me. Why did he lie to me?"


"He didn't want you to be upset with him. He didn't want the wind knocked out of him with a swift punch to the gut. He was ashamed of his behavior. He didn't want you to think less off him."

Buffy sat up, scowling. "Doesn't make it all right."


"It doesn't," Doyle agreed.

"I fucking asked him and he fucking lied. Right to my face." She pointed at her face.


Doyle nodded. "I'm actually pretty surprised on both accounts. I never
pegged him as one to do anything with Harmony and I never pegged him as
one to lie – well, to lie to you anyway."


"You know stuff, don't you?" she looked at him curiously.

"Depends on what you mean by ‘stuff'."


She gave him a look. "You know what I mean."

"I have strong suspicions."


"You have all along."

"Since he flipped out on me in your bedroom that day."


"How is that possible?"

"Because Buffy, he didn't react like a simple protective brother. He was
over and beyond that. Don't get me wrong, he did want to make sure your
virtue wasn't endangered, but it wasn't just brotherly. He was jealous."


"You amaze me."

Doyle shrugged, "I know, I'm pretty amazing."


"Do you think he – I mean do you think he—?"

"Loves you?"


Buffy nodded.

"Yes. But he has the same hang ups you had—have?"


"Sort of still have. Though currently dissipating by the minute with all this
ache in my heart. It kind of makes you focus more on what the other
person means to you and sibling feelings don't make you ache like this."


"I also think that there's something else. You're right about something
haunting him. I bet it has a lot to do with his time on the east coast and his
ex wife."


"I wonder if he cheated on her. Ooo! Ooo! Maybe he's a serial cheater. A
nympho that just can't help himself. Maybe he's afraid he'll do the same to
me that he did to her and that's why he fights it so hard. Ooo! Ooo! Maybe
she went crazy because—No, she cheated on him. But maybe because he
did it first or—"


"Buffy, the plain and simple matter of it is, you're not going to know until
you talk to him about it."


"That's just it, Doyle. He's not talking to me about it, remember? And honestly, I'm a little too angry and hurt to talk to him right now."


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


Somehow Buffy had managed to avoid him for three days. Three very long
days. He hadn't even had a glimpse of her, barely even heard her through
the wall in his room. Course, she'd spent one night at Doyle's, and then no doubt climbed through her window on the remaining nights to avoid him. She'd called Joyce with her plans and even Joyce was starting to get suspicious about all the time Buffy was starting to spend over at Doyle's and the reasons why. She'd asked him if they were getting along okay and he'd lied –again—and said yes, they were getting along fine.

On the third night, he'd had enough and decided he'd just wait in her room until she got home. But, the stubborn –and incredibly smart chit—had locked her door. The message was clear to him: Stay away.


But he was going crazy with not being able to see her, with knowing that she hated him, with knowing that she was hurt and he'd been the one that caused it. At first he thought time apart would be helpful, but now . . . Now he just wanted to do whatever he could to have her forgive him.

He was even willing to tell her everything about Dru.


Now he just had to corner her long enough to get her to talk to him. Well, if she was going to lock him out of her room, then he'd just wait outside for her. Right behind that damn tree she climbed to get in.

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

He was starting to fall asleep. He shook his head and tried to check his watch. He tilted it toward the moonlight when he heard voices coming closer.


"Thanks for tonight Buffy." Male. A male voice. Spike narrowed his eyes and quietly stood, maneuvering himself so he could observe this, and yet not attract attention.

It was the tall guy she'd been talking to at The Bronze that fateful night. His hands balled into fists.

"Well, thank YOU for the ice cream, Riley," Buffy told him.


"So maybe we could do this again?"

"Of course, just give me a call. Night!" she started for the tree and waved. The doofus she called Riley waved and crossed the street.


He could hear her humming to herself as she came closer. She reached out to put her hand on the first branch when Spike decided to strike. He moved out from the shadows and sidled up behind her, clamping a hand over her mouth.

He managed to get out "It's me," just as her elbow connected with his gut. He doubled over stumbled back as she spun around, eyes wide and slightly horrified.


He rubbed his sore stomach and gasped for air. "Bloody hell, Buffy. Guess I never have to worry about you being able to defend yourself huh?"

She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. "What are you doing with the waiting behind the tree?"


"You locked your door."

"Take the hint," she told him and turned, reaching for the branch again.


He grabbed her wrist, halting her. "Buffy, we need to talk."

She tried to free herself, but he held on. "We need to talk now? I see. When
you're ready we talk. But when I wanted to, you couldn't be bothered. Well,
you know what? Now I can't be bothered. Now let me go."


He shook his head, "No."

"I have another arm left and my legs. Let. Me. Go."


"If I have to tie you up, I will. Just . . . just at least hear me out."

She sighed heavily. "Fine."


"Mean that?"

She nodded. "Now let me go."


He released her, but was prone for action should she make a run for it. She
didn't. Instead, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You have
five minutes. Make it good."

Chapter Thirteen


"Five minutes? That's all you're giving me?" Spike asked, exasperated.

"And how many times have I asked you over the past week to tell me what's going on? You sat right in my room and said that we needed to talk and instead I got a goddamn sermon on how it was ‘wrong' that we – and that I – and then you walked out of my room after I gave you the option to
talk to me. So do NOT act as if you're getting the shaft here, Spike."

"I know, you're right," Spike nodded, hanging his head. "You did try and
I—"

"Ran away? Avoided? If the shoe was on the other foot, you'd be just as
fed up."

He looked up and met her eyes. "You're absolutely right."

"Four minutes left."

"I didn't have sex with Harmony," he blurted out.

The angry expression on her face wavered, her cold eyes softening, but
moving towards hurt. He preferred anger rather than her pain.

"You didn't deny it though," she pointed out.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, let me try this again. I was in the
process of oral—"

She shut her eyes and he stopped. "Do you want me to continue?" he
asked.

"Yes."

"She was, well, she was –"

"I get it. Did you –do the same to her?" her voice sounded so small.

He shook his head, "She didn't even get to uh, finish."

Her eyebrows knit. "I thought you couldn't just stop in the middle – I
mean, doesn't it hurt?"

"Would you have rather I finished?" he asked lazily.

She shook her head. "No. But that doesn't even matter—Why didn't she
finish?"

"Because of you."

"Me?" she squeaked.

"I was . . . Buffy I was thinking of you and I said your name while—"

"Oh my God!" she slapped her hand over her mouth. Then she dropped
the hand and pointed at him. "You were" And then she pointed at his groin
area, "—While she was--" Her hand flew back to her mouth. "Oh my God!"

He looked at her sheepishly and then at the ground. "I was thinking of
you, yes."

"I think I'm too stunned to actually feel anything about that. I know I
probably should. I mean . . . I should. Why did you – Why did you hook up
with her in the first place? Why were you thinking of me—does this have to
do with Drusilla? Does it have to do with what you started to tell me before
our kiss?"

"This is going to take longer than five minutes, Buffy."

"It's already probably been over five minutes anyway."

"Shall I start at the beginning?"

"The beginning being...?"

"The beginning being when you were fourteen and I was seventeen."

Her eyes widened.

"Do you want to go inside maybe?" he asked.

She shook her head and plunked right down on the grass. He smiled down
at her and slowly sat himself down across from her, their knees touching as
they both sat Indian-style.

"All right luv, we'll start from the beginning. You ready?"

"Yes," and she nodded again.

"Buffy, there's really no easy way to ease into telling you this . . . and I'm
sure it might not be something you want to hear. But it's the whole reason
why I had to leave and why Dru went crazy and—" he stopped, his eyes
filled with tears. "It's all my fault," he whispered.

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm in comforting gesture for
a moment. "Tell me, please Spike."

He met her eyes and nodded. "Buffy, the thing is – I love you. I am in love
with you pet. I have been since I was seventeen, hell probably even before
that . . ."

Buffy stayed immobile, her expression unreadable. That unnerved him,
but he continued. "I left home because I had to get away from you. You
were growing so much and so fast and so—God, Buffy, you have any idea
how gorgeous you are? Make my blood burn, you do. Turn my world
upside down and off its axis.

And you were fourteen. Still barely a teenager. Hell, you didn't even care
about boys at that time. And here I was, supposed to be your older brother
and I wanted you for myself. I was supposed to protect you from blokes
like me. I was even worse than that—I'm your brother—"

"STEPbrother," Buffy said quietly.

He stared at her hopefully. "Buffy, what does that mean?"

"Please finish," she said firmly.

He nodded abruptly, "Right. I fell in love with you Buffy when you were
still no more than the ten year old girl I met. It was ingrained into me how
we were going to be a family. How Dad was so happy because he had met
someone to spend his life with after being so heartbroken over my Mum,
and how he was going to be a father again – to you. He let me know how big
brothers treat their little sisters. It was nice. I was excited about it. I had
someone to look after and it made me feel . . . needed. I wanted a sibling
before and now I was going to have one. One that I could talk to and hang
out with and have a special bond with. And you . . . " He grinned, "You
loved me. You hung on my every word, you thought I was cool and I knew
it. I soaked it all up and thought that I had the best sister in the world."

He shook his head and paused for a minute to gather his thoughts. "Then
you started to grow up. One day it seemed . . . one day was all it took and
you‘d grown into this beautiful young woman and I found myself thinking
things that I shouldn't have been thinking. I found myself thinking things I
would have pummeled any guy for thinking about you. But God, Buffy, you
had me enraptured. You were everything I could have ever wanted in a
girl: Smart, funny, gorgeous, independent and feisty . . . I fell hard. How
could I not have? And you still thought I was the coolest guy. I felt as if I
were betraying you, betraying Mum and Dad and our family. I wasn't
wanting you as my sister anymore, I wanted you as my girlfriend, my
lover, my best friend, my . . . Everything.
So I did what every guy does who believes he's twisted and perverted – I
took off. Had to get away from you, Buffy. Thought if I put some distance
between us, I'd get over you."

She raised her eyebrows. "SOME distance? A whole different coast of
distance."

He nodded, "And it still wasn't enough. I never stopped loving you Buffy. I
tried so hard too. I chose a girl that wasn't the Golden Girl you are. I chose
someone a little dark, rough around the edges, ‘touched' I guess you could
say. That was Dru. I called her my Dark Princess. She saw something in me
and it drew her to me. I was drawn to her too. Mainly because she was so
different than you and I thought that was what I needed to put my love for
you behind me.
Dru knew after a while that something was up. She never said much in the
beginning, just hints here and there about how my mind was on ‘sunshine'.
We were just chatting one day about our families and she asked to see
pictures. I took them out and showed her the album Mum made me before
I left home. Course, I had added my own to the pile; mainly pictures of you.
Dru, she started shaking and moaning and muttering to herself. She
pointed to your picture and stared me down and said with perfect clarity ‘That is your sunshine. You're covered with her.'
I knew what she meant then and I clammed up. I couldn't tell her. But she knew. She would whisper to me that she'd help me, that she'd get me to forget. I put my all into our relationship. I took care of her on days she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed. I made sure she took her meds. I married her."

"To help her?"

Spike nodded, "Yes. I thought it was what she needed, what I needed. I thought if I married her, she'd see that I loved her, not you. But it was a lie, a sham. And she knew that too. She started having fits. She would go through spells where she'd yell at me and blame me for making her sick. She told me I was sick and perverted and I should be locked up. Towards the end when we . . . when I made love to her, she started taunting me, telling me she knew I was thinking of you." He broke off, not able to stop the tears that were falling. He was trying to gain control so he could finish telling her what had been kept inside for so long, but the memories of it were raw and it racked him with such guilt to remember.

He did not expect Buffy to crawl into his lap, but that was what she did. When he looked up at her in shock at her gesture, he saw tears in her own eyes. He sat there dumb, unsure of what to do and unable to make a move as she wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Spike. Let me help," she whispered.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her and he sobbed into her shoulder, wetting her shirt. And still, she held onto him, rubbing his back and murmuring words of comfort and support.

When his sobs quieted down, she urged him to continue.

"She wasn't functioning in reality much anymore," Spike said, holding onto Buffy tightly. "She had these dolls she'd had since she was a child. She spent hours dressing them up and having ‘tea parties' with them. Her favorite doll, Miss Edith she called her, she would carry around and talk to. About me. About you. She started saying how Miss Edith knew I was unfaithful in my heart and in my thoughts. I begged her to stop, I told her over and over that she was wrong and I wanted," he stopped, taking a deep breath to keep the new onslaught of tears at bay, "I wanted it to be true. But the thing was . . . the sicker she got, the more I missed you.
I stayed away and kept you away from me because I couldn't bear it Buffy. I felt so guilty for what I'd done to her . . . It was my fault she got so sick. If I didn't love you, if I could have let you go, if I wasn't so twisted for loving you –"

"No, Spike. No," Buffy said softly, squeezing him. "You're not twisted. You're not perverted. You're not wrong. She was already sick Spike. She tormented you to bring you down with her. She enjoyed it probably. You took care of her and did all that you could and she wanted to make you just like her. Spike. . . " she pulled back just a little and cupped his face with her hands, her own eyes glittering with tears. "You're not wrong, Spike. Believe me. Listen to me. You're not wrong. You're not twisted. Please, believe me, please."

She pressed her lips against his and he let out a moan; a mixture of anguish and relief. Pulling her close, he kissed her desperately, finding his solace in her embrace, in her touch. Tears fell and blended as they sought peace from one another.

Chapter Fourteen

Buffy was the first to break the kiss, gasping for air. Spike stared at her, he too left panting. He pressed his forehead against hers.

"How could something wrong feel so right?" he asked reverently.

"Because it's not wrong," she whispered. "I thought it was at first too, but Spike…there's no blood between us. It's not incest. We're step siblings by marriage only. It's different, a little awkward, but not wrong."

He shut his eyes and breathed in her scent, burying his face in her neck.
"How did you become so wise?" he mumbled against her skin.

She let out a short laugh. "I'm not wise. I'm just fumbling through life like everyone else. Occasionally I get something right, but then Doyle likes to take credit for it. He knew, you know."

His head snapped up. "He did?"

"Yep. He's intuitive like that. And not once did he think it was icky or wrong."

He chuckled half-heartedly.

"Spike, those phone calls with Mom – Did you tell her? Does she know?"

He shook his head, "No, she doesn't." He brushed some hair from her face as he spoke. "She knows Dru got really sick and that she was difficult to deal with. When I called and talked to Mum, I didn't tell her the parts about you. I told her everything else that Dru did—the dolls, the days she couldn't get out of bed. I left you out of it Buffy. How could I tell my step mother that I was desperately in love with her daughter?" He kissed her quickly.
"Buffy," he moaned. "I love you so much. I've waited so long to have you in my arms like this. I never thought . . . God, I never thought you'd be here in my arms." He kissed her fervently, desperately. Lustfully. He was filled with unrequited passion for her and even virginal Buffy knew these kisses were filled with the promise of something other than just rejoicing in knowing she reciprocated his feelings. Well, for the most part. . She couldn't blame him for taking that turn so quickly. Six years was a long time to want and not have. To yearn and to think you were wrong for it and that the one you yearned for was off limits; untouchable. However, she also knew that taking that step was not something he was ready for, not even if his body was saying otherwise. She knew she definitely wasn't ready, but if she had been . . . the ramifications of it for him would be difficult. There was no way he could reconcile his mind so quickly after years of being conditioned to think it was dirty. She could not and would not do that to him; to them.

She pushed at him slightly. "Spike, stop."

He looked wounded by her halting him.

"Don't look at me like that," she told him softly. "I'm not . . . I'm not
rejecting you. But I'm also not going to let you do something that you—and
I – will regret later. And, well, I'm not ready for that."

"I'm sorry, I'm pushing."

"You're not pushing, not yet anyway. But those kisses are intense and . . .
Spike, you've told me so much tonight and I haven't been able to process it
all and you're so upset by it all . . . I don't even know where to begin."

"Do you love me Buffy?"

"The way you love me?"

He nodded.

"Not yet."

He looked away from her; hurt.

"No, stop, look at me," she urged, putting her hand under his chin and
gently forcing him to look at her. "Spike, I've only just begun to process my
feelings for you. I haven't been in the same place as you for the past six
years. I think a part of me was there, but . . . not enough to fully realize it. I
know that I am falling for you. I know that I want to help you sort through
what Dru did to you—"

"It's what I did to myself," he murmured.

"No," she shook her head. "She really did a number on you. Brainwashed
you. You've spent so much time feeling guilty and twisted. . . I might not be
the only one that can help you."

He met her eyes, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that with all the stuff that Dru did to you, the way she
tormented your mind and made you feel dirty, maybe you need to see
someone Spike."

"Like a shrink?"

"Yes. Having dealt with what you dealt with—it's got to have done stuff to
you."

"I never considered the possibility. I thought if I went . . . "

"You'd be judged. You thought the answers were black and white. Sister,
brother equals incest. Except, step sister, step brother equals no incest.
Shades of gray, I'll give you, but no longer black and white."

"And those shades of gray?"

She smiled gently and kissed his brow, "One step at a time. One day at a
time. Nothing has to be decided tonight, or even tomorrow."

"You forgive me for Harmony?" he asked softly, averting his eyes.

"Was she a botched experiment to get over. . .? "

"You? Yes."

"After you went on about how sex was special and that I should wait," she
pointed out dryly.

"I was desperate Buffy. Desperation can do things to you."

"Just promise me—"

"I would never Buffy. I'm so close now, don't you see? You're not disgusted
by me . . . "

"You thought that I--? Oh Spike, how could you—Never mind, I know how
you could. Spike, I don't blame you for what happened with Drusilla. I get
it, I understand. I know because I felt wrong too. . . but I know it's not."

He smiled softly and buried his face back in her neck. "You're my angel,"
he murmured, causing her to break out with goosebumps at the feel of his
breath on her skin. She shivered.

"Are you cold, sweetheart? Do you want to go in?" he asked, looking up at
her, concern on his handsome face.

She smiled warmly at him. This was the side Drusilla had gotten to see that
she was only beginning to see. Spike as the lover. The concerned, gentle
lover that wanted to cherish and protect, that wanted to take care of the
one he loved. She could imagine him taking care of Drusilla, being calm with
her and patient with her. Warring with himself while he tried desperately
to do the right thing. How hard it must have been for him to project
compassion and understanding when inside he was being ripped to shreds.
Her heart ached for him. She wrapped her arms around him, and held him
tight.

"Sweetheart?"

"I'm so glad you're home," she whispered, not wanting him to know she
was crying.

"So am I sweetheart, so am I." It was the first time Buffy thought he
meant it.

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

For the first time in years, Spike woke the next morning not feeling burdened by guilt and misery. His heart felt lighter, his mind at more peace than he'd known in what felt like forever.

Buffy had given him the sweetest kiss good night before retreating to her bedroom and he went to bed with a smile on his face. He wanted to bask in her purity and loveliness for the whole night, but knew that was not in the cards yet. They still had things to work through—his demons just lurking beneath the surface and yet quieter now. Then, there was Mum and Dad. But that would have to come later. Buffy was right. He had to find a way to reconcile what he'd thought about loving her and what he'd been told about loving her from Drusilla to now; to feeling it wasn't a dirty, wrong thing.

"Spike, get up! You're going to be late!" Buffy called through the door.
She was such a bossy chit and God, he loved it. She was down the stairs before he could get to the door. Whistling, he pulled on his clothes, brushed his teeth and combed his hair before practically running down the stairs to greet his Golden Girl.

He was about to lunge at her to bring her in for a greedy kiss when he saw Joyce upon entering the kitchen. He nearly halted in his tracks and Buffy shot him a knowing look.

"You all right, Mum?" he asked as he poured himself an orange juice.

"What are you doing home still?"

Joyce let out a sigh. "Oh, I'm being sent to L.A. to help out with the exhibit there this weekend. Your father is coming with me. I'm going to pack and check on things at the gallery before we leave tonight. Will you two be all right here alone?"

Spike nodded calmly, while inside he was doing the Snoopy dance. A weekend alone with his Buffy. Time together without having to hide. Just what they both needed.

"I don't know if we can handle it Mom. You think Gram can come and stay with us? I might be too afraid. Or tempted to have a raging party," Buffy said, deadpan.

Spike chuckled and Joyce shot her a sour look. "Very funny," she said.

"Couldn't resist," Buffy shrugged. "I think we can handle it. I'll make sure Spike eats and showers and gets to bed at a reasonable hour."

Joyce rolled her eyes and left the room.

"You're such a bitch," Spike chuckled.

"I know. I love it," she said and giggled.

"I love it too," he said softly, meeting her eyes. "Well, sometimes," he grinned.

She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, leaving him wanting more, but when he reached for her she said "Mom", and he stopped.

"Have Chinese take out tonight?" she asked as she rinsed her breakfast dish and stacked it in the dishwasher.

"Sounds good, luv."

Creeping across the kitchen, she listened for Joyce and then leaned in and gave him another kiss. "Have a good day, Spike."

"Buffy, I love you," he couldn't help himself from gushing.

She smiled, "I know. Bye for now."

"Miss me?" he said hopefully.

"I always do." And he could tell she meant it.

Chapter Fifteen

"You were right," Buffy told Doyle later that day as they sat in the quad having lunch during their hour break before their next class.

"About?"

"Spike having feelings for me."

"Buffy, a deaf, dumb and blind person could have figured that out," he said
rolling his eyes.

She gave him a look.

"Okay, you're right. It was my powers of intuition that deduced that," he
grinned cockily.

"Well, there's more to the story."

"Buffy are you telling me that you and Spike finally talked?"

She nodded slowly.

"Tell me!"

She bit her lip.

"What?" Doyle asked.

"I feel like I'd be betraying him by telling you and yet . . . I feel like I need
you on this. I'm torn."

Doyle nodded, "Buffy, if you feel you can't tell me because you feel you'd be
betraying Spike, then you don't have to tell me. I understand completely.
However, you do know that I'm your best friend and I love you to bits. I
would NEVER do ANYTHING to hurt you. I would never do anything to hurt Spike either because he's yours and you love him—"

"I never said I loved him—"

"Please," he waved her off. "It's coming."

"Yes, that's true," she agreed, nodding slowly. "Just not there yet. There's
so much to work through first," she sighed. "Not the least of which are the
rents beyond what damage Drusilla did to him."

"Ah, so the evil bitch did do something to him."

"Yes, and she sounds like a piece of work."

"Buffy, why don't you start at the beginning so I'm not getting bits and
pieces here that are impossible to piece together."

Buffy took a deep breath. "Okay, well, see, it all started when I was
fourteen and Spike was seventeen . . . "

When she was finished, Doyle let out a low whistle. "The poor guy."

"I know. Do you think it was. . . Do you think it was controlling of me to tell
him he should get help?"

"Not at all, why would you think that?"

"Because Drusilla spent so much time telling him he was wrong and trying
to control his life."

"Which," Doyle started knowingly, "She didn't succeed at. You were ever
prevalent in his mind and in his heart."

"And she knew it."

"Yes, but, it wasn't what drove her round the bend Buffy. It was all her.
She was already there, Spike was just her outlet. He was fighting his
demons and she knew it. She fed off it. She was losing control over her own
life and she wanted to take him with her so she'd feel she had control over
something."

"I'm sure it hurt her to know that he harbored feelings for me while he was
married to her."

"No doubt. I'm not saying that Spike's actions were the best, but his
reasons for doing them make sense."

Buffy nodded, "Yes, I know."

"So, no, I don't think telling him he should get help is wrong. When you
have to deal with someone who has a sickness like that, it does do stuff to
you. That's why they have support groups for those who have a friend or
family member who is an alcoholic or has bipolar disorder—there's a reason
why, Buffy. So telling him that is not wrong or controlling. It says to me
that you care a great deal about his well-being and realize that you can't do
it all on your own. Being with you I'm sure helps, but you're not his ‘cure.'"

Buffy smiled broadly and lunged at Doyle, wrapping her arms around him.
"I so love you Doyle. I knew I couldn't not tell you. I need you."

"You have me, you know that," he smiled at her. "Now get off me before
everyone thinks I'm straight. I've got a rep to protect."

Buffy giggled and sat back down. "Meanwhile," she continued as if there
had been no interruptions in their conversation, "the rents have left for the
weekend."

Doyle raised a brow. "Playtime for the kiddies?"

Buffy started to fidget. "I—I'm nervous Doyle."

"Why?"

"Because Spike has been having these feelings all this time and he's been
tortured by it, but it helps to know that I feel things back and what if he –
what if he wants to do stuff?"

"By stuff are we talking sex?"

"Yes. I told him already that we weren't ready for that."

"Absolutely right."

"But even virginal me knows there's other things to do . . . " There was a
slight whine to her voice.'

"Like what he didn't complete with Harmony?"

Buffy shot him a look, "Thanks for reminding me of that."

"Sorry. Look, Buffy, there is nothing wrong with showing affection for one
another. Of course he's going to want to because not only is he in love with
you, but he's a man. I hear that straight men just can't control themselves."

Buffy laughed.

"So," Doyle continued. "You go by what's comfortable for you."

"Which isn't much right now."

"Exactly."

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

"Spike!" Buffy called as she entered the house. "Honey, I'm home!" she giggled and went for the kitchen to get something to drink.

"Hey darlin'."

She nearly jumped a mile as Spike's hands closed around her hips and spun
her around to face him from her position in front of the fridge.

He swooped in immediately and kissed her fervently. "I've been waiting all
day to do that," he breathed when he parted long enough to allow them air.

Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled shyly. "Hi."

He grinned, "Hi."

"How was your day?"

"Insignificant until now, although . . . "

"Although what?"

He met her eyes, "I made an appointment. With a psychologist."

Her eyes widened, "You did?"

He nodded.

She smiled brightly and hugged him tight. "I'm so happy."

"Never thought my seein' a shrink would fill you with such joy."

"It's just that what she did and what you convinced yourself of—"

He pecked her nose. "I know, kitten. It actually felt good to make that
appointment. Like I was making a first step onto something."

"You did."

"Now, I want to lavish my girl with attention. Spent so bloody long wanting
you with me Buffy. I don't want to waste a second."

She kissed his cheek.

He pulled his head back, searching her face. "You are my girl right?"

"Of course I am," she told him and he kissed her again until they were both
panting for air, relief evident.

"And your girl is hungry," she said when they'd caught their breath.

He grinned, "Chinese right?"

She nodded.

"Did you want to go out or stay in?"

"I want to stay in. I don't . . . I don't want to share you yet."

The look of adoration and love that swept over his face nearly made her
fall over with its intensity. No one had ever looked at her like that before.
She'd never seen anyone look at someone like that before. It was
exhilarating and frightening all at the same time. Somehow she knew that
no one aside from Spike would ever look at her like that again, and, she
didn't want them to.

She also felt guilt for lying to him. Well, it was partly a lie anyway. While it
was true she didn't want to leave the sanctuary of their home and their
ability to show their love for each other there without the hindrance of
public awareness, she was also afraid. For people who knew them, Spike
was still her stepbrother and she was still his stepsister. Their parents
didn't even know yet. She was courageous in wanting to forge ahead from
the non existent taboo of their relationship, while at the same time feared
the odd looks and possible comments being together would garner.

Seems she had just as many issues to work through as he did.

Chapter Sixteen

They sat, Indian style, across from each other on the couch doing something that Buffy had wanted them to do for so long. They were talking. Just talking and eating and to her it was the best night simply because of this simplicity. Tonight they were Buffy and Spike, having been separated for a long time and were now catching up –focusing on the positive for Spike and both negative (Harmony and high school) and positive (Doyle and college) for Buffy. The undercurrent of their siblingdome was there, but not prevalent and therefore not a hindrance. They were connecting as friends with enough flirting to promise that there was more going on.

The world had slipped away from them it seemed. It was just them; Buffy and Spike.

"Buffy?" Spike asked tentatively.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I hate it when people ask a question like that. It never leads to good
things."

He grinned. "Depends on you and how you take it I suppose."

"Ask," she said waving her hand at him.

"When did you start having feelings for me?"

She blinked. She hadn't expected that question. She shifted in her seat,
suddenly uncomfortable, suddenly needing to move. She plopped her fork
in the carton of pork fried rice and climbed off the couch. "I'm going to put
this away," she told him.

He followed, not surprisingly.

"Buffy," he said deeply behind her, "No more secrets remember?"

Shoving the carton in the fridge, she shut it and turned to him. He was
leaning against the counter, watching her with an eyebrow raised.

"Well, see, the thing is, it's embarrassing."

"Oh?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, why do I have to tell you exactly when? Isn't all that's
important here is that I do have feelings for you?"

He grinned. "Come on, tell me."

"Well, I think I started having feelings for you the first day you came back.
I was just so happy you were here."

"And then you realized for sure when --?"

She looked at the sink, avoiding his gaze, "When I woke you up on your
first day of work. I uh, I noticed you."

"Noticed me?"

"You had the sheet just kind of draped across your middle and I could see
everything else exposed." Her face was on fire.

"Buffy, look at me."

She slowly met his gaze.

"You don't have to be ashamed to tell me something like that. After what I
told you the other night—"

She threw her arms around him. Partly to give him reassurance and also
so she didn't have to look at him anymore while she confessed her feelings
had started out as lust. "You don't have to be ashamed either," she told
him.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. "I was a
pedophile at seventeen."

"You weren't a pedophile. You never did anything about it."

"I thought it."

"People think weird things all the time, Spike. Kinky things. Doesn't mean
they act on them or that they are wrong for letting them drift into their
minds. You didn't do anything wrong. Three years isn't that much of an age
difference you know."

"I was supposed to protect you," he whispered. "I was supposed to keep
you from guys like me."

"And you did. You still do and you still will. You're the only one that can
defile me. You're still doing your job, just means something different now."

He pulled out of her arms and walked away from her. "Don't say ‘defile'
Buffy. Makes me feel dirty."

"I didn't mean it to be dirty, Spike. I just meant that you're the only one
that can do the things that . . . that boyfriends do."

He looked up at her, "Am I your boyfriend?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, Spike it isn't every day that I put myself out on a limb
like this, that I engage in something akin to a relationship with my . . . my .
. . "

"Stepbrother?" he supplied.

She swallowed and said nothing.

He walked away from her, out of the kitchen and she could hear his
footsteps going up the stairs. Tears sprang to her eyes. That had come out
all wrong, so very wrong. She'd inadvertently made him feel worse and she was trying to make him feel better. She felt at a loss, unsure of which way to go and what to do to make it better. Time. This was going to take time. It wasn't like it would just go away over night with a few simple words, with a few "it's going to be all right's". The thing was; if they couldn't get past this hurdle with it just being them, they wouldn't get past the next few hurdles.
With that thought in mind, Buffy marched herself up the stairs intent on confronting Spike. She paused in front of his door, and raised her fist to knock. She dropped her arm and stared at his door. Then took a deep breath and knocked softly.

"Buffy, not right now," he called to her.

She bit her lip. Go or stay? "No, Spike, I'm coming in," and she pushed the
door open. The room was dim, the only light being a lamp on his dresser
that seemed to shed the barest light it could.

He was on his side, his face turned away from her. She knew without being
able to see his face that he was crying. She took a mental breath and
crawled in next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing
her face into the back of his neck. She placed a kiss there.

"Spike, listen to me," she started. She continued when there was no
response. "I didn't mean to make it sound dirty. I didn't mean to make you
feel worse. I was actually trying to make you feel better by letting you
know that you're the only one I want to experience things with. You're the
first guy in a really long, long time that I've ever wanted to put my heart on
the line for. I'm falling in love with you Spike, and I'm falling rapidly by the
minute.
All this stuff –all this stepsibling stuff, it's there and yeah, it's still gonna
mess with our heads. There's no way it can just disappear overnight and its
going to take some time but we HAVE to work through it. That means no
running away, no avoiding. If you and I can't get through what we feel for
each other together, then how are we going to get through it when it comes
to telling Giles and Mom? I don't want you to give up and I don't want to
give up. This is the first time I've wanted to fight for someone so hard. Please tell me you want to fight too because I can't do this on my own. And I want so much for you to feel good about this—"

He turned to her so fast if she'd blinked she would have missed it. His lips covered her and he engaged her in a desperate kiss filled with longing and need. He broke apart, panting, and buried his face in her neck, holding her tightly, laying a leg over hers possessively.

"I want to fight, Buffy. I just –It's so hard after what I thought was wrong
for so long and God, it feels so right to have you in my arms, to touch you
and kiss you . . . I love you so much . . . it's like I can't breathe . . . "

"Gives a whole new meaning to ‘Take your breath away' huh?"

He chuckled against her. "I'm scared of what's next," he whispered.

She rubbed circles on his back, "Don't be. Not yet anyway. First there's
just us. You and I need to be strong before we take on the rest. If you and I
can't get it together then we won't make it with the rest."

He looked at her then, brushing away tears that had formed during her
speech. "There's only you for me, Buffy. I knew it when I was seventeen
and I know it now at twenty –three. I want it all with you. I want your love
and your friendship. I want to be the bloody world to you because you're
the bloody world to me."

She gasped, "God when you say stuff like that you take MY breath away."
This time she buried her face in his chest, squeezing her eyes shut. "I have
to get used to it. And it's not because you're my step brother. It's the way
you love me. . . It overwhelms me. I'm not used to it."

"Did I scare you?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I'm not . . . no one's ever. When you tell me you've
loved me all this time it makes me wonder what I've done to warrant it, to
DESERVE it."

"Buffy, look at me kitten, please."

She looked up at him.

"It's you, sweetheart. It's just you. You didn't DO anything, you were and
are just YOU."

"Spike?"

"Yes, kitten?"

"Would it be okay, do you think it would be pushing things if I stayed in
here tonight with you?"

"I'd like that," he said, smiling softly.

"I just . . . I just want you to hold me. And I want to hold you."

"God," he breathed and pulled her closer to him. "I don't think anyone's
ever wanted to do that before. Dru never. . ."

"I will, I will."

Chapter Seventeen

It was amazing to Buffy that Drusilla had never held Spike. Watching him as he slumbered the next morning, the way his arms fit loosely around her and he appeared so untroubled by his demons and fears; Buffy thought him an angel. He was so many things, she realized, that he did not know he was. Things he deserved to know to help him heal.

Reaching out gently she smoothed the unruly curls springing forth from his crown back and ran her fingers gently through his silky hair.

He nestled in closer to her and she smiled. There was still a little boy inside him that needed reassurance, gentle touches and simple kindness to show him that he was good and worthy of love. He'd beaten himself up for far too long and had made himself a victim to Drusilla's own craziness because of it. He'd gone above and beyond trying to purge himself of what he considered ‘sin' and impurity. She'd berated him and made him feel twisted; unworthy.
In a way, she almost did feel sorry for the woman. Someone could have hurt her once the same way; dragged her down and kept her there, made her feel unloved and worthless. And, in a way, Spike staying with her hadn't helped her. Or him. Especially since she knew whom his heart really belonged to. Sometimes trying to do the right thing led to more pain before the light at the end of the tunnel is revealed.

When did life become so complicated? A week ago she'd been simply excited about the prospect of Spike coming home. She remembered balking at love, thinking it a waste of time. Thinking that if all it did in the long run was hurt, why did one seek it out, run for it and grab onto it? Now she was in the beginning stages of a relationship with the man she'd considered to be her stepbrother for ten years. More than just a little daunting. But something she knew she wouldn't trade for anything.

In a way it kind of made sense that Spike would evolve into this for her. She'd put him on a pedestal for so long, she wanted to be part of his life—just part of HIM—it was a wonder it took her so long to figure it out. She supposed however, that it didn't matter how long it took her to figure it out, just that she had.

"What are you thinking about, pet?" Spike's groggy voice startled her from her thoughts.

She looked down at him, his blue eyes seeming bluer than she'd ever seen them. His face still had that peaceful look and she hoped that it was she that
brought him some measure of peace.

"I'm thinking –right this second—that I want you to look as peaceful as you do right this second for all day."

He smiled sleepily. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It suits you. No frown lines, no distant look in your eyes. Just peace. I think I'll have to find ways to make you feel like that – or at least look like that more often. Because, I'm thinking if you look like that, then just maybe one day you'll feel it."

He stared at her, awe washing over his features. "You do care."

She rolled her eyes. "I only said it like a hundred times."

He shook his head, "Sorry, you just – it just—"

"Overwhelms you? The way it overwhelms me?"

He nodded, his eyes clearing, "Yes," said ardently.

"How does it feel to be overwhelmed?"

"Knowing the source of it? Exhilarating. It's the best feeling I've had in a
long time."

She smiled. "Good. Then I've already started doing my job."

"Your job?"

"As your girlfriend."

He smiled, "I love you."

"I know."

He pulled her close and hugged her tight. "What would you like to do
today?"

"Don't care. Just want to spend it with you."

"I think that sounds perfect."

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

The day was spent being lazy. After a leisurely breakfast and showers –separate showers—the couple finally made it outside in their backyard to the hammock Giles had set up there. Spike lay down first and held out his hand, bidding Buffy to join him. She did with a smile on her face and cuddled up next to him, her head resting under his chin. He kissed her forehead softly.

"Not ready to face the big bad world, are we pet?"

She looked up at him, startled. "So I'm not the only one?"

He grinned. "Not at all. Figure a lot of folks in this town know who we are. If they see us out and about acting like more than just . . . well, that might be something that could bite us in the ass later, yeah?"

"Especially since Mom and Giles don't know."

"I wager those are one of those hurdles you were talking about?"

"Yeah, all . . . both of them."

"We will get through it though, right pet?"

"Yes. Spike, you not having faith in us scares me."

"It's new to me still," he said softly. "It hasn't sunk in yet, Buffy. I thought
I would never have you and now you're here. With me. It throws me."

She leaned up and kissed him softly. "That help?"

His eyes still closed, he had a faint smile on his lips, "Definitely. Do it
again."

Kissing him slowly and sweetly, she felt him wrap her closer to him and
put his leg over hers possessively. This position allowed her to feel his
arousal. She tried to calm herself, her heart suddenly beating rapidly, the
blood in her veins racing.

He pulled back, "What is it?" he asked breathlessly. "Too much?"

"No," she quickly reassured him. "No, it's just that I can . . . I can feel
you," she finished shyly.

He started to move and she grabbed him, stopping him. "No, Spike. Don't
move."

"It's too soon. You think it's sick—"

"NO," she said emphatically and wrapped him back in her arms, purposely
grinding her center against him which warranted a hiss. "Not too soon
because of . . . that. I've just never . . . It stunned me. But I don't want to
stop. I'm not ready to go all the way yet Spike, but I'm ready for you to
start teaching me. I want you to touch me and I want to learn how to touch
you—"

He cut her off with a hard and demanding kiss. She moaned into it, letting
herself melt and letting him feel free to explore as well. She felt his hand at
her waist find its way under her shirt, just resting at the flesh of her waist.

"That ok?" he rasped, resting his forehead against hers.

She nodded and he kissed her again, sliding his hand slowly up her shirt
until he cupped her bra covered breast. She gasped in his mouth at the
sensation.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked. "No, it just. . . I never thought it would feel so
good. Am I supposed to break out in goosebumps?"

He chuckled lightly and gave her breast a little squeeze before brushing
his thumb across her nipple back and forth. He watched her intently,
gauging her reaction. She shuddered as her nipple instantly pebbled under
his touch. Curious, she reached under his shirt, gliding her hands up slowly,
letting her fingers trace over the hard muscles of his abs and chest. He was
well-defined. He watched her heatedly as she took her time feeling every
part of his torso and when she reached his own nipples, he gasped as well.
He bent his head and kissed her passionately and she stroked her thumbs
across them, wanting to feel them pebble as well. When they did, she felt
triumphant that she had been able to make it happen.

"Goose bumps?" she asked.

"God, yes," he said huskily. He started to pull her shirt up so that just her belly was exposed. "May I?" he asked.

She nodded, gulping.

"Won't do anything you don't want me to do, kitten. Anytime you want me to stop, you just say ‘stop' okay?"

She nodded her assent and soon, her shirt was off and she lay bare to his gaze. Well, bare except for the bra she still wore. Sliding the straps down ever so gently and slowly, Spike made sure to kiss and caress every inch of skin that was exposed. His lips left a hot, wet trail to the tops of her breasts and she felt her pussy clench with what she knew was next. She was sure if her nipples became any harder, they could cut glass.

He took his time covering every inch of one breast with his mouth as he massaged and stroked the other. He lifted his head and watched her, looking for signs of any discomfort as he peeled the bra slowly down her chest, baring her breasts. His gaze dropped and the look of awe and reverence on his face made her want to weep. What woman didn't want a man to look at her in such a way? If he looked at Drusilla in any way like that, how could the woman have tortured him so? She felt as if she'd given him a precious gift and in the recesses of her mind, she knew she had. The gift of her body. So many were careless in who they gave theirs too. Until that moment she hadn't given much thought to it herself. She simply hadn't had sex because she could barely stand any guy long enough to have a conversation with them, never mind allow them to enter her body. But this man . . . her Spike, he brought so much to the act of love making, and this was love making even if they hadn't gotten to actual intercourse yet. The feelings they felt while touching each other, basking in their newfound relationship – this was all making love.

"You're so gorgeous Buffy. Creamy and soft," he leaned in and took one pebbled nipple in his mouth and sucked, sending bolts of pleasure rocketing through her. Instinctively, she threaded her fingers through his hair, wanting to keep him doing what he was doing. "Taste so good," he murmured and swirled his tongue around the nub. His other hand idly stroked her nipple with the pad of his thumb, brushing it so lightly that she ached for more, wanting it harder somehow.

She closed her eyes as he suckled on her breast and when he released one, he went to work on the other. She held him to her, not even aware of her hips grinding her center against his.

Her orgasm took her by surprise. Though of the two, he was more surprised than she.

"Buffy, did you--?" he asked, his head popping up to look at her when her whole body shuddered and she sputtered his name.

She grew red, mortified, thinking there must be something wrong with her. She looked away from his reverent gaze.

Placing his hand under her chin, he made her look at him. "You had an orgasm," he stated.

She nodded shyly.

"Why are you upset by it?"

"Because I thought that . . . because you just touched my breasts and I went off like a rocket. Is that abnormal?"

He broke into a wide smile, "God no. It's wonderful Buffy, don't you see? My touching you did that . . . I did that. It means your body is in tune to mine, it means I drive you wild and make you feel so good… I made you feel good, didn't I?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, not at all. When I touch my boobs, I get off all the time—of COURSE you made me feel good. You're . . . You're really good at that."

He grinned and kissed her sweetly.

She pulled back just a smidge, "Should I--? Do you want me to uh, help you--?" She wanted to ease his situation and yet feared it. She wasn't sure she was ready to get ‘groiny' just yet.

He shook his head. "No, baby, you don't have to do that. When you're ready okay? Just knowing that I . . . That you . . . God, that was all I needed."
Feeling exposed, she pressed herself up against him, hissing when her hardened nubs rubbed against his t-shirt. His hands splayed against her back as he kissed her leisurely, slowly trailing kisses down to her neck. He nuzzled her neck and she shivered.

"More goosebumps?" he mused.

"Hmmmm," she replied.

"Ever hear Mom talk to her friends about the good old fashioned necking her and Dad used to do?" Spike asked against her neck, then licking her pulse point.

"Yeah. . . " she breathed.

"Let's see what all the fuss was about."

Chapter Eighteen

Spike watched Buffy putter around the kitchen, setting out their plates and cups while they waited for their pizza to arrive. He decided to participate in her preparation by lighting the candles on the table and dimming the lights.
She looked at him with a sweet, sappy smile on her face. She opened her mouth to tell him something when there was a knock on the front door. She scrunched her eyebrows together, clearly confused. "That can't be the food."

He glanced up at the clock, "No, can't be. I called just five minutes ago."
Looking at each other they said at the same time, "Doyle."

"I'll get it," Buffy told Spike, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before
heading toward the door.

Spike smiled, his cheek tingling from just a simple kiss. His smile turned
into a frown however when he realized the voice he heard talking with
Buffy was not Doyle. In fact, it sounded very much like the wanker she'd
been talking to two nights ago. Jealously raged through him and he made
his way determinedly into the foyer.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that Ri, I hadn't checked my messages this
morning," Buffy was saying.

"That's okay, Buffy. I just figured I'd stop by to find out—" The oaf stopped
talking as Spike made his way up behind Buffy and wrapped his arm
possessively around her waist.

"Who's this kitten?" he asked, sizing up the tall man looming in the
doorway.

"Oh, Spike this is Riley, Riley this is Spike."

"Oh, I'm sorry Buffy, I didn't realize you had company," Riley apologized,
turning red. "Uh, call me tomorrow or something if you get a chance."

"Excuse me?" Spike growled. The git had the nerve to STILL make a play
for his girl even when it was obvious she was taken?

Buffy hit him in the ribs with her elbow lightly, a silent signal for him to not
make a scene.

"Okay Ri, will do. Bye!" and she shut the door, leaning her back against it
and looking up at Spike.

He lunged at her, placing his hands on either side of her head and eliciting a
gasp of surprise from her. Spike growled, "Who is that? What does he want
with you?"

She blinked, "Are you—you're jealous!"

"Yes, you're bloody right, I am. I'll rip his head off and shove it up his arse
if he comes near you again. And as for you, I'll lock you up all Rapunzel like
if you—"

She cut him off by wrapping her arms around him instead and kissing him
sweetly. "We really need to work on your gaydar, honey," she told him
after.

He paused and then straightened. "You mean--?"

"Yes, honey. Riley is gay. He's in one of my classes and he asked me for
some help since he knows I get all A's. He's got a crush on Doyle. Though
Doyle's got a crush on your friend Xander."

"Riley's gay?"

She nodded.

"He's got a crush on Doyle?"

She nodded again.

"So he's not hitting on you?"

Buffy shook her head.

"Oh."

"You're cute when you're jealous though," she smiled up at him. "It's
actually kind of hot."

He grinned, "Is it now?"

"Well, makes me feel like I'm worth getting jealous about."

"You are. Buffy, when you started having an interest in boy's way back when, I wanted to take them all out. Didn't want them near you. Why do
you think I flipped that day I came in and Doyle was on top of you?"

Her eyes widened. "Doyle said the same thing! He told me you were
jealous. I thought he was crazy."

Spike smiled, "Now you know."

"Wow. Am I that oblivious?"

He shook his head, "I kept things from you, put you at a distance. How
were you to know? I didn't want you to know. From the minute you ran out
to meet me when I came home, I knew I was in trouble. Thought you were
the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I'd missed you so much . . . and then
you ran into my arms like you'd missed me just as much . . . " he shook his
head in wonder.

"I did miss you. Tons. I didn't think you missed me."

He brushed some hair from her face, "I did. So much."

Her eyes filled with something heavy, something he could see she wasn't
ready to give voice to. Love. He could see it in her eyes, and he guessed
that perhaps she knew he could read it there because she buried her face in
his chest, a shiver rippling through her.

He held onto her, finding for the first time some comfort and peace in his
love for her. She felt the same, he knew it; he felt it. At that moment, he felt
as if they could weather any storm threw at them. He knew the big hurdle
would be in telling their parents, but he felt stronger in the knowledge that
she was right there with him, lending him strength.

He felt weak compared to her. It was amazing to him how brave she was.
She'd always been such a tomboy –even when she had started becoming
interested in boys. She preferred the ones that would play baseball with
her, or engage in burping contests with her. She liked a challenge. She was
never one to put her heart out there for just anyone; they had to be
deserving her eyes. Not many gained her loyalty and love. Doyle, her gay
best friend, had. Spike was pretty sure, though she never said and maybe
didn't know that he was a buffer for her. With Doyle there, there was no
pressure from the opposite sex. Doyle presented no threat to her; he had
no interest in her sexually. In this way, she could protect herself from
getting hurt.

He had made it through though. That spoke volumes to him; that told him
that it was meant to be. And God knew he needed such signs to quiet his
mind. He had penetrated the walls of Buffy Summers. He was the one she
was putting her heart on the line for. He was the one she wanted to be with
– even before she knew how he felt. She had been the one pursuing the
truth of his feelings. She was fighting for him, for them and it humbled him.
She made him strong. Made him feel he wasn't wrong, made him feel that
what they had was something worth fighting for. She made him feel that
they were right and that the world was wrong. He wanted to hold onto that.
He was afraid if he didn't, he'd be sunk back into the desolate world he'd
been living in thinking he was a twisted perv for loving Buffy the way he
did. In that world, he didn't have her love and her love was the greatest
thing he'd ever known. So he had to cling to her, had to put his faith in them
as much as she had. And as long as she was by his side, he was sure he
could it.

He hoped.

*******************************************************************
Halfway through the movie they'd chosen to watch, Spike realized that Buffy was no longer paying much attention to it. Her gaze kept drifting to his as he held her in the safety of his arms. He looked down at her curiously.

Her gaze skittered away and he bit back a smile. When she was ready, she'd tell him. Of that he had no doubt. She pulled out of his arms a minute later and stared at him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Earlier."

"On the hammock?"

She nodded.

His jeans suddenly got tight at the mention of their time outside. How her
body felt under his touch, how she responded to him, how she tasted.
"What about it?" he asked cautiously.

"I've never seen a penis up close before," she told him bluntly.

His jaw dropped to the ground. "What?"

"I've never seen—"

"Yeah, I heard you, I just – Buffy, what are you trying to do to me here?"

She knit her brows together. "What do you mean?"

"When you talk about those things with me—Buffy, God, you really don't
have any idea how much I want you do you?"

She blushed profusely and bit her bottom lip. Then she met his eyes. "I
want to touch it."

He was going to have a heart attack. "What?" he managed to nearly
squeak out.

Seeming to gather her courage about her, she reached out and placed her
hand over the now prominent bulge in his pants. She looked up at him, "I
want to touch it," she said again.

"Buffy," he groaned.

Her fingers drifted over his zipper, "Can I?"

"Buffy, you don't have to—"

"I know. I want to. I'm curious."

"Buffy, you're not ready—"

"If I say I want to touch it, then I'm ready. Trust me."

He stared at her, at the determined look on her face.

"Are YOU ready?" she asked, starting to take her hand back. He grabbed
it and placed it over his cock.

"I'm ready," he said hoarsely. "With whatever you feel comfortable giving
me."

She smiled broadly and leaned up to kiss him. He kissed her deeply, letting
her feel the depth of his fathomless emotions for her.

She pulled back and kneeled before him, setting to the task of
unbuttoning his jeans. His breath hitched and held, his fantasies coming to
life. All of them were coming to life and he felt so unworthy. His angel trusted him, wanted him and felt the need to please him. It was overwhelming and the greatest gift he'd ever known.

It seemed an eternity for her to unzip him.

"Buffy—" he started and then his cock sprang free. She reared back just a
little bit, gasping. "I go commando," he finished.

She stared at his cock, her head tilted to the side. He grew harder. And
when a bead of precum oozed from the slit on top, she leaned forward and
delicately swiped at it with her soft tongue.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, his head dropping back.

"Was that—"

"Fucking brilliant," he choked out. He looked down at her and found her
watching him curiously.

"What do I do?"

"T-touch me."

She fisted her hand around his cock. "Like this?"

He nodded, unable to form words at the feel of her hot little hands on his
cock. He was going to die right there and it was going to be because of her.

"Stroke it Buffy," he managed to choke out.

She unknowingly squeezed just a fraction harder and glided her fist up his
shaft, and then down, slowly. More precum oozed and when she glided back
up she swirled her thumb around it, coating the head, watching in
fascination. Then she leaned in and covered just the head of his cock with
her mouth and sucked hard.

He went cross eyed and fought the urge to surge his hips forward and bury
more of himself in her sweet mouth.

She leaned back and looked up at him, gauging his reaction as she stroked
his shaft. After three strokes she leaned in and covered the head again,
sucked, and proceeded to engulf more in her mouth.

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy," he babbled, his head lolling. She was driving him out
of his mind. Her curiosity combined with her inexperience but her
willingness to experiment was driving him round the bend.

"F-faster Buffy, please," he begged. She jerked him faster, harder.

"Buffy, fuck, I'm going to… I'm going to . . . "

"Cum?"

"Yes, baby, move before I—"

"I want to taste more," she whispered and that was it.

Just as her mouth closed round him, he spurted off in her mouth, coming
harder than he ever had before. He was panting, his heart was racing and
he felt as if he were gliding to heaven.

When he was able to think clearly, he reached down and hauled her up to
him so that she straddled his lap, his semi hard cock just resting between
her ass cheeks.

He devoured her lips, tasting himself. He pulled back to allow her to
breathe and stared at her, feeling himself in awe of her.

"Buffy . . . " he whispered. "That was . . . amazing."

"Really? I didn't really know what I was doing. I just went by what you
seemed to like."

He shook his head and held her close, burying his face in his neck.
"Anything you give me is more than I deserve."

"Not true," she told him firmly. "You deserve it. It's my love to give and I
choose you. Only you."

Chapter Nineteen


Spike's eyes widened. "What did you say?"

"I said," she smiled, "It's my love to give and I choose you."

"Does that mean--?"

"That I love you? Yes."

"I thought that you—that you weren't sure yet, that you needed time."

She nodded slowly. "It's all your fault for being . . . you."

Spike shook his head in wonder, "I knew, I just didn't think . . . "

"Think what? That I'd tell you? Or that I'd love you?"

"Both," he smiled goofily.

She smiled, "What's the point in not telling you?"

"I don't really know . . . Buffy, say it."

"I love you Spike."

"Use William."

"I love you William."

He broke out in a huge smile and cradled her face in his hands and kissed
her deeply, gliding his tongue inside her mouth and tasting her. She shivered and pressed herself against him, seeking the heat and comfort of his body.

She broke from the kiss when the state of his undress sunk in. She giggled.
"Spike, you're just sitting here with your pants around your ankles."

"So? It's just us."

She giggled again. "Let's go for a walk."

"A walk? Now?"

"Yep, now. Come on, just around the block."

"What is it with you and being out at night?"

She smiled, "You're free. Alone. No one can see you, and you can see
everyone."

"If you look inside their houses," he teased. "Peeping tom."

She laughed, "Yep, that's me. Dusk and nighttime is my favorite time. It's

the part where I feel like can do anything, be anything. And now, I want to
share it with you."

Brushing some hair away from her face, Spike leaned in and kissed her
sweetly. "In that case, how can I say no?"

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

Walking hand in hand, Spike and Buffy toured their block silently, listening
to the sounds around them—cars passing by, TV's blaring in people's
homes, crickets in the distance, the rustling of leaves from gentle breezes.

The couple found themselves lost in their own musings. Buffy was pondering the day and all they'd done. She felt her face get hot when she thought of the way she'd touched him. It was something she never thought she'd do. She'd told Doyle once that hell would freeze over before she went down on any guy. With Spike though, she found she was unable to stop herself. She wanted to know his taste, wanted to learn what pleased him and how it all worked. She wanted to blow his mind. No pun intended. She shook her head in wonder.

"What are you thinking about?" Spike asked, tugging on her arm to get her
attention.

She looked up at him, blushing. "Nothing."

He grinned, "That doesn't look like nothing. Can I guess?"

She didn't answer.

He laughed, "We don't have to if you don't want to."

"Okay, good," she nodded abruptly and focused back on their walk.

"But you do feel all right with it?"

"With . . . what I did?"

He nodded.

"Well, yeah. I'm just . . . I'm kind of stunned with myself."

"Me too."

"Why are you stunned?" she asked curiously.

"You never struck me as the kind that would . . . do that. You never struck
me as a . . . well, a giver."

She burst out laughing. "It's funny because I know EXACTLY what you
mean. To be honest, I never thought of myself as a giver either."

"Not that you're selfish---" Spike backpedaled.

"No, but, I've never exactly been easy on men."

"Which works well in my favor," he grinned. "VERY well in my favor. I get
to be your first."


Buffy rolled her eyes, "And all guys just love that don't they?"

"To be the first? Well, yeah, I guess, but . . . " he stopped walking, which in
turn caused her to stop as well. She faced him, waiting patiently for what he
had to say. "For me this is like a rebirth."

"Rebirth? You and I being together is like a rebirth?"

"Yeah," he said slowly. "I was with Drusilla and Drusilla only. All that time,
I wanted her to be you. Despite the fact that she knew it and held it over
my head. Despite how wrong it felt, I wanted to be loving you. My marriage
was hard, Buffy. It sucked up one side and down the other. This, with you .
. . It's making right what went wrong. I feel reborn."

"It's your do-over?"

"Yes, it's my do-over. And being able to experience it with you as your first
time makes it even more special. I'm finally with the girl I've loved since I
was seventeen years old. And the fact that she loves me too, and hasn't
given her heart or otherwise to anyone else—it means everything to me
Buffy."

She nodded, "It means everything to me too," she whispered. "If I seem
so . . . casual about everything or brave. . . I'm not. Inside, I'm terrified.
Being with you is. . . it's new for me. I've never met anyone that I wanted to
give my time and my heart to. Well, I had a crush on Doyle there for a
while, but we all know how that ended up. And, I didn't realize how
fortunate I was at the time when he told me. It was like the universe was
clearing a path to you. Like it was telling me that there was a guy that was
perfect for me . . . and here you are. Well, you were there all the time, but I
didn't know. . . and now I do. So if I mess up and do something wrong –"

"You won't—"

"I could. I'm sorry if I do in advance. I've never been in love before."

"We're even then, kitten. You're the only one I've ever loved."

"That makes you feel guilty doesn't it?"

"It does," he admitted.

"Drusilla was already sick," Buffy reminded him. "You didn't make her
worse, Spike. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else."

"I did make her worse," Spike sighed heavily, burrowing closer to her,
burying his face in her neck. "I did because I wanted this with you. God
help me Buffy, I'd do it all again to have you in my arms."

"Spike you have to stop doing this to yourself."

"I'm trying."

She wanted to tell him to ‘try harder'. But she couldn't be that cruel. She
was scared and her fear was starting to push its way to the surface. She
was afraid of what their parents were going to say and what others that
knew them would say. She needed him to be strong because by God, she
got more and more terrified the deeper they got into it. Her own feelings
overwhelmed her coupled with his feelings for her . . . It shook her to the
core. She wasn't one to walk away from a fight, from a challenge, and she
knew she had to fight on this one. She just wanted Spike to be able to fight
with her and she was beginning to wonder if he'd be able to when push
came to shove – and she saw lots of shoving coming up. She wondered if it
was his reaction she was worried about more when the shit hit the fan or if
she was worried about whether she'd really be able to whether the storm
with him. Would she be the one to crumble under pressure or would he?
Would he surprise her and fight? Would she weaken and walk away?

Looking up at him, at the love in his eyes as he gazed down at her, and the
way his arms felt so strong and right around her, she felt her heart swell
with love for him. No, she wouldn't weaken. How could she? She loved this
man before her. Loved him above all others and would love him above all
others for eternity. Buffy Summers didn't half ass it when it came to those
she cared about. And she more than just cared about Spike. She loved him
entirely. He'd been her everything before and he was her everything ten
fold now. But seeing the desperation lurking in his eyes--the plea to be fixed and to understand-- she had to wonder if
she'd be the one left standing.

Alone.

Chapter Twenty

"Spike?" Buffy asked later when they were snuggled and warm in his bed.

"Yeah, kitten?" he asked, stroking her back in the dark, her head tucked under his chin, her arm around his middle.

"When is your therapy appointment?"

"Monday at five."

"Can I go?"

He moved slightly so that he could look down at her, "You want to go?'

She nodded. "Do you not want me to go?"

"I don't think you can go in with me or anything—"

"That's okay. I just want to go and support you."

She could barely make out his face, but she knew the look he had on his
face. The look of awe mixed with adoration; the one that made her want to
weep.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You don't have to thank me. Even though this is for you, we're in it
together, you know what I mean?" she asked and snuggled back into him.

"I do. Thanks just the same."

"Spike?"

"Kitten?"

"Say you and I weren't step siblings. Say we had just met out in the world
somewhere like most people do."

"Okay," he said slowly.

"Say Drusilla was never in the picture and when I met you at fourteen and
you were seventeen . . . would you have felt wrong?"

"I don't . . . Probably would have felt a little fucked, yes."

"Three years isn't a much of a difference."

"It is when you're seventeen."

"What about all those seniors that dated freshman?" she countered.

He chuckled lightly, "Good point."

"The fact is, you weren't ‘sullying' me to be lusting after me at seventeen.
So we take age out of the equation completely."

"Is this how we're going to do it then? Process of elimination until there's no more problem?"

"Because there ISN'T a problem. The sooner you grasp that, the happier
we'll be. The more we'll be able to move on."

"Why are you with me?" he whispered. "You could be with someone that
isn't your step brother, that isn't . . . broken."

"Because I love you, that's why I'm with you. Spike, I'm scared."

"Of what, Buffy? Tell me what dragon to slay for you and I will," he
promised and caressed the side of her face.

"Your hang ups are my dragons," she whispered, fearful to tell him.

His hand stilled and dropped, "What?"

"Being here with you like this is . . . at the risk of sounding like every
romantic comedy, namely the one with Matthew Perry that I can't
remember the name – You're everything I never knew I always wanted."

"But," he supplied when silence fell.

"But I'm afraid of what will happen when Mom and Giles come home."

He started. "You don't want to tell them right away do you?"

She shook her head, "No. But we will have to tell them eventually and it's
that fear I know is written all over your face that scares me. Therapy isn't
going to work miracles overnight, Spike. So unless you can purge the guilt
and dirtiness you've carried with you for the past six years in a couple
sessions, I'm thinking we've got some work to do here." She moved so that
she was kneeling before him, hands on her thighs.

Spike propped himself up against his headboard and leaned over to his
nightstand, turning his lamp on. Both squinted for a minute as they
adjusted to the light. They stared at each other for a long time, Buffy
waiting, Spike thinking.

"You think I'm going to give up. Give you up," he stated.

"Yes," she said honestly.

"I won't."

"That's not something you can promise."

"How do you figure?"

"Because it's not real yet."

He looked indignant. "What do you mean it's not real yet?"

"I mean, Mom and Giles aren't here. We've been living in a bubble for the
past couple days Spike. In this bubble, the outside world doesn't exist. The
rules changed when Mom and Giles left. Like this," she gestured between them, "We're just Buffy and Spike. A couple in love. When Mom and Giles
come back; the dynamic changes again."

"Unless we tell them, you mean."

"No, not even if we tell them. It'll always be there Spike. We'll always be
stepsiblings as long as my mother is married to your father. We'll always be
their kids. Mom will always consider you the son she never had and Giles
will always consider me the daughter he never had. The question I'm
posing to you is: Will you be able to handle it?"

"Will you?" he asked in retaliation.

"I'm prepared to," she said resolutely.

His eyes narrowed, "Are you now? They're not here, remember? Easy to
say when they're not here and we're living in a ‘bubble'."

"I'm aware of the reality," she bit back.

"And suddenly you're cured of your own hang-ups?" He asked snidely.

She felt her anger bubble up inside her; she didn't appreciate his tone. "I
admit, I have my hang ups about it, I did from the get go when I realized I
had feelings for you, but they are fading faster by the minute every second
I'm with you." She shook her head, climbing off the bed and narrowing her
eyes at him, "You've been carrying yours around for a lot longer than I
have. You've had it ingrained in you how wrong it is; how dirty it is. Drusilla
fucked with your head, YOU fucked with your head. Your baggage is a lot
bigger than mine; you've got carry-on with your baggage. So don't start
getting snippy with me.
I'm trying to be honest with you and tell you how I feel. You're not the only
one that's allowed to be scared here Spike. I don't know a lot about
relationships seeing as how I haven't been in many – or any at all—but I do
know that it takes two. Seeing as how you're the other part here, you're
kind of the one I'm hoping to lean on to get through it.
I know there's a light at the end of this tunnel, but I'm allowed to get scared
once in a while and have doubts. That's where you come in. I'm trying my
best to be strong here for you. For us. But I can't do it on my own. And
what scares me is that I might have to." Her eyes welled up in tears and
she let out a growl of frustration. "God, I hate to cry!" she exclaimed. "This
is all your fault. I never cried until all this started and I don't like it!" She
swiped at her eyes. "I'm going to Doyle's," she said and spun on heel
walking away from Spike and trying to tamper down the tears that were so
insistent on gathering.

She hadn't gotten far down the hall when Spike's hand clamped around her
arm and he practically yanked her back to him.

Her eyes were flashing as she spun to face him.

"You want this to be a two way street? Then you don't get to run off to
Doyle every time it gets a little rough with us," he ground out.

She struggled to get her arm free, but Spike was having none of it. Instead,
he hauled her up to him and crashed his lips to hers, kissing her breath
away.

When he broke to let them both breathe, his hold loosened and he pressed
his forehead against her, panting for air. One hand cupped the back of her
head, keeping her in place while his other arm wrapped around her waist.

"Don't run away from me. I don't want you to run to Doyle every time
there's a problem. I'm glad you told me how you felt. Glad because . . . God,
Buffy, I didn't know. I didn't know and it shocked me, stunned me . . .
frightened me to know you were just as scared as I was. All this time I've
been leaning on you for support. I've been relying on your strength to get
me through and I realize that you need me to be strong too. That you're
afraid and for different reasons. You're afraid I'll leave you. I won't. I love
you. No, I can't promise that I'm not going to crumble a few times and
probably stumble and fall a few times on the way, but so will you. And
you're right. We have to do it together, not apart. I'm sorry I've been
leaning on you to get us through this, I'm sorry I've made you had to carry
me and my issues—"

She opened her mouth to speak and he put a finger to her lips.

"Don't. Don't make excuses for me or for you. We're both stumbling
through this and one of us cannot carry the load. I get that now. I get what
you've been trying to tell me. I was clinging to you, hoping that your
strength would rub off on me and make me strong. I can't do that to you,
though. How could I? That's selfish and unfair of me. If I'm going to be
worthy of your love Buffy then I have to carry some of this too. I can't
make you do it all on your own and expect you to be okay with it." He
stopped short and swallowed a sob. He cradled her face in his hands,
studying her tenderly. "You've never been in love before. And out of
everyone to fall in love with, you chose me. That knocks me on my ass
Buffy," he chuckled nervously. "I've been in love with you for years, and
you've just realized what it means to be in love and have someone love you
back. You've got that on top of Mom, Dad and me to think about—"

"Don't make me out to be some kind of martyr here, Spike. I don't want to
be one. I just . . . I just want . . . "

"Tell me baby, tell me what you want," he cooed, nuzzling her cheek.

"I just want you. I want your demons to go away, I want you to be
comfortable in your own skin. I want you to be comfortable and free loving
me. I want to be comfortable and free loving you. I just want you, Spike."

"You have me," he breathed and kissed her deeply, passionately. She clung
to him because if she didn't, she'd fall from the force of his love and passion.
And he let her cling to him.

He held her up, supported her, kept her from falling from the dizzying
effect he had on her.

She hoped to God that meant something.

Interlude

"Kitten . . . wake up, my little kitten. . . " Spike sing-songed softly as he gently nudged her knees apart and glided her leg over his lap.

It was morning and Spike had awoken feeling peckish. After all the talking
they'd done the night before, the both of them had gone back to bed feeling
emotionally and physically exhausted. It hadn't been the right time for him
to teach her more things. Now, however, hours before their parents were
due back, he wanted nothing more than feast himself on her taste and scent. His cock was painfully hard just thinking about it. He'd woken up to her on her side, an arm across his torso, sleeping peacefully. He wanted his angel.

She stirred and fought wakefulness and he grinned. He pecked her nose thinking that it'd be difficult to not wake up with her like this after spending the weekend with her in his bed. He was really going to have to find a place of his own soon. That way they'd have their privacy and it'd tamp down the awkward factor when it came to their parents. Maybe she'd move in with him.

Maybe he needed to slow down and take things one step at a time first.

"Luv, wake up for me. . . want you, baby. Show me those beautiful eyes."

She burrowed further into his chest.

"You asked for it," he whispered and slithered a hand between them.
Skimming over her breasts through her tank top and splaying his hand
wide over her flat stomach where the tank had ridden up, he moved his
hand further down. Dipping inside her shorts, he gently caressed her soft
skin and moved his hand further down until he felt the curls that guarded
her sex. Deftly, he slid a finger along her slit. She was wet already. Could it
be possible that this was the affect from just sleeping beside him? His eyes
rolled up in his head at the thought. It would even the scales. He found he
was almost always at least semi hard around her.

Her eyes flew open.

He grinned, "There she is."

"Wh—what are you doing to me?"

"Touching you baby," he cooed and leaned in, kissing her as his finger idly
stroked along her sex. He broke away so they could breathe, "Do you
mind?"

She wrinkled her nose, "You kissed me while I have morning breath."

He chuckled, "I don't care. I have it too."

She gasped when his finger swirled around her clit, "Spike." She grabbed
onto his arm, holding him for support. "Ooohhh."

"Oh yeah, baby, that's it. You're so wet for me . . . " he breathed hotly,
nuzzling her neck. "Will you let me taste?"

Her eyes widened, "What?"

"Want to eat my Buffy all up. Will you let me?" he tweaked her clit as
incentive.

"Oh Jesus," she gasped.

"No, ‘oh Spike'," he teased.

She tried to shoot him a withering glare, but it wasn't working. Her lids
were hooded, but hooded with desire and need. She nodded, though he
wondered if it was because she was really all right with him going down on
her or if it was out of the desperate need for release. He swiftly detracted
his hand from her core. She whimpered and it was music to his ears. She
wanted his touch.

"Gonna take care of you, Buffy," he whispered and kissed her, letting his
lips glide from his mouth to her chin and down her neck. His hands rested
on the hem of her tank, his hands caressing the skin there. He looked up at
her in question. "May I?"

She nodded, biting her lip. He lifted her tank over the tops of her breasts
and then eased it over her head and discarded it with her help.

"Ahh. . . now this is a good morning," he murmured and leaned in, swirling
his tongue around one nipple while cupping the other and stroking his
thumb over it, feeling it pebble under his touch. She moaned and a tremble
went through her. He grinned and switched his attention to the other
breast, knowing how hot this got his girl. He was sure she was unaware of
how her hips undulated against him, craving friction.

Not wanting her to cum yet, he released her breast from his mouth with a
wet plop and proceeded down her body, kissing and caressing every inch.

"Spike," she moaned, a hint of frustration laced through her tone.

He grinned against her skin," Ssshh…I'll take care of that itch, baby."

Rearing up so that he was on his knees before her, he held her gaze as he
eased her shorts down her hips and legs. She bit her lip as she watched him
and he saw slight fear pass over her features. Next came the panties and
she reached for the sheet to cover herself almost immediately after they
had been discarded. He stopped her, shaking his head.

"No, sweetness. Don't hide from me. Got to see this beautiful . . . " he gazed
down at her, drinking her in. "My God, you're gorgeous."

She blushed prettily and looked away from his admiring gaze.

"No, don't turn away from me like that. Buffy, baby, look at me."

She looked up at him slowly.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"You really need to get out more," she said quickly.

He shook his head, "Your defenses are going up."

"You're staring at me while I'm buck ass naked. No one's ever—"

"And no one ever will but me."

"Well, it's the first time for me and – could you come down here now?" She
held up her arms, coaxing him into them. He leaned down and braced his
hands on either side of her head, kissing her quickly. Before she could pull
him closer, he set up camp between her thighs.

"This is where I want to be right now," he said huskily and blew on her sex.


She twitched. Leaning up on her elbows, she watched him with a mixture of
uncertainty and curiosity.

He grinned up at her and gently spread her nether lips with his fingers,
giving her long and leisurely lick up, gathering her juices on his tongue.
"Mmmm…" he moaned, closing his eyes.

A small tremor went through her and she gasped. "Th—that tastes good?"
she asked, her eyes wide.

"Delicious. Want a taste?"

He eyes widened even more. "No!"

He chuckled and strummed his tongue against her clit.
"Oh God," she whispered.

"So good, baby," he murmured appreciatively and gently stuck the tip of
his finger inside her, not wanting to overwhelm her with what he was doing.


"What are you doing to me?" she whimpered, her head falling back onto the
bed, her elbows no longer supporting her.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes."

"Then that's what I'm doing."

"Does it do anything for you?"

"If you only knew," he replied and licked her again. He leisurely alternated
between licking her and swirling his tongue around her nub. When he could
tell she was on the edge by the way her breath was coming out in pants and
her limbs were growing taut and straight, he slid his finger inside further
and sucked hard on her clit. She exploded in his mouth, shouting her
orgasm by calling his name and he greedily lapped up all she had to offer,
sending her quickly into another orgasm.

"Spike, no more, I can't take it," she whimpered.

He prowled up her body, leaving soft kisses on her body in his wake. Buffy
wrapped her arms around him, bringing him close to her.

"Feel all right kitten?" he asked soothingly as he stroked her back.

She nodded against him, letting out a small yawn.

"Tired, baby?" he murmured against her shoulder, peppering her with
kisses.

"Yes," she admitted, looking up at him with sated green eyes.

"Sleep. I'll hold you okay?"

Snuggling up to him, she kissed him softly. "That was the most intense
experience of my life," she mumbled.

He smiled. "There's many more where that came from. In time."

She nodded, "I love you," she whispered before closing her eyes and
drifting off. Spike watched her for a long time as he slept, caressing her
skin, and rolling her taste on his tongue. He wanted to stay just this way
forever. In her arms, basking in her warmth and her love. This was all he
had ever wanted.

"I will not let you go," he promised her. "Never."

Chapter Twenty One

"So, I'm here for what? A decoy?" Doyle asked Buffy later that day as they watched TV in the living room. Spike had gone upstairs to make sure none of Buffy's unmentionables were left hanging around in his room.

She gave him an odd look. "You sound bitter."

"Good job Nancy Drew, glad you figured it out," Doyle muttered, turning away from her and starting blankly at the TV, his arms crossed against his chest.

She flicked off the TV. "All right. Spill. You're acting like me when I'm
PMSing. What is it?"

He looked at her like a petulant child. "You and Spike are together now and
I get shoved aside."

"Doyle—" she stared.

"But when you need someone to come over and what? Somehow disguise
the fact that you've been probably going at it like bunnies all weekend, I'm
okay to call and come over then."

"Would you rather we have called you when we were going at it like
bunnies?"

He glared at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Doyle, I'm sorry. I just . . . We
just . . . "

He waved his hand at her as if dismissing her. "I know. You're in the throes
of a new romance." His voice dropped and he started crooning the theme
song to the Love Boat to her. "The Love Boat! Exciting and new… come
aboard . . . we're expecting you.."

She grimaced, "I'm going to be sick."

"Oh my God! You're pregnant!" Doyle exclaimed.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "No, I'm not pregnant, jackass. First of all, you don't
know that quickly--"

"Duh."

"And second of all, the only way I would be is if it were Immaculate
Conception."

"So then you haven't—?"

"No, we haven't."

"My God, how were you able to restrain yourself? You have seen him
right?"

"Can you stop lusting after my boyfriend?"

Doyle shrugged, "I'm a red blooded American Gay Male. What do you
expect? It's okay though honey. I don't have a shot in hell. He's as straight
as an arrow."

Buffy started to laugh. Leaning over, she hugged him. "I have missed you."

"You're lying."

"I'm not lying. I did." Her voice dropped to a whisper and she strained to
make sure she didn't hear Spike nearby before she said, "I have things to
tell you."

"Like?"

"I can't tell you now."

"Okay, whenever you're ready."

"Am I getting shoved aside already?" Spike said, entering the room.

Buffy leaned away from Doyle and smiled up at him. "Nope. Doyle was
feeling neglected and I was trying to make him feel better."

"Not to worry Doyle, Buffy won't be replacing you," Spike assured him.

"Better not," Doyle said petulantly.

In the distance car doors were heard being slammed shut. Buffy and Spike
looked at each other and at the same time said, "Mom and Dad."

"Maybe if you both didn't call them ‘Mom and Dad' it might help the weird
factor," Doyle pointed out.

"I call Giles, Giles," Buffy pointed out.

"And I can't call Joyce, Joyce. She's been ‘Mum' since I was thirteen,"
Spike told him. "And she'd know something was up."

"I think she'll know something is up when she sees you stick your tongue
down Buffy's throat for the first time," Doyle pointed out.

"Doyle!" Buffy scolded.

"It's okay, Buffy. He's just pointing out the obvious," Spike told her.

"We're home!" Joyce's voice rang out.

"Spike! Can you help me carry the suitcases?" Giles shouted in after her.

"On it Dad!" Spike called back and quickly hugged Joyce before taking a
suitcase from Giles and placing it at the bottom of the stairs. Giles was
starting to trek back out when Spike placed a hand on his shoulder. "I've
got it Dad," and he rushed out to the car.

Giles turned to Buffy. "All right. What did he do?"

Buffy giggled, "Giles! He didn't do anything. That's awful to think."

Giles shrugged. "You do remember what he used to be like, correct? Hi
Doyle."

"Hi, Mr. Giles."

"Honestly Doyle, you can just call me ‘Giles' like Buffy does."

"Yes, sir," Doyle said cheekily and Giles shot him a mock glare.

"So, how did you kids get along this weekend?" Joyce asked.

"Mom, really, can you not call us ‘kids'? Spike is twenty-three and I'm
twenty. We're adults now," Buffy said rolling her eyes.

"So when are our adults going to be moving out?" Giles teased.

"Ha, ha."

"Well Miss Summers—" Doyle started.

"Joyce," Joyce corrected.

"Well, Joyce, I'm not going to lie to you. There was a rager here this
weekend. Not to worry though. We made those hoodlums clean up after
they puked all over your oriental."

Joyce went pale.

"He's kidding, Mom," Buffy told her and whacked Doyle on the arm.

"Hey, I bruise easy, watch it!"

"Can someone help me?" Spike said in the doorway, sounding as if his
mouth was stuffed with something.

Buffy rushed to help him. Poor Spike had two suitcases, a backpack and his
mouth was stuffed with some plastic bags.

"Mom, did you buy out L.A.?" Buffy asked, taking the bags from Spike's
mouth and smiling at him.

He smiled back and she resisted the urge to lean up and kiss him.

"It's not everyday a woman gets to go to L.A. to shop," Joyce said
indignantly.

"Did you shop or rob?" Doyle asked.


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

Buffy sat on her bed, listening for Spike to enter his bedroom. She was going nuts. After they'd all chatted and Joyce told them how successful the show and all the things her and Giles managed to do on their weekend trip, they'd retired to bed. Doyle had visited a while, but not allowing Buffy to have the chance to talk with him the way she longed to. She didn't have any girlfriends, so Doyle was pretty much it. He was officially her own private therapist and she felt the need to purge everything – minus the sexual adventures – to Doyle. Then again, she'd probably divulge some of that too.
Spike had gone out for a smoke and not wanting to follow him like a puppy, she'd stayed inside. But now, she wanted to be with him.

Hearing the sound of footsteps and then his door click shut, she bounded off her bed and out her window. Crawling to his window, she knocked lightly on the pane. He was nowhere to be seen, so she knocked again.

"Buffy?" she heard his voice whisper to her.

"Spike?"

"In your window."

She turned her head to find him with his head sticking out her window.

He grinned at her. "You move too fast. You must have been on your way to
me when I came for you."

"Let me in your room," she told him.

Nodding, he left the window. A second later he appeared before her,
smiling broadly. Lifting the window, he helped her crawl inside. When she
was safely inside, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

"I missed having you in my arms," he whispered and began peppering
kisses from her collarbone up to her cheek. He pulled back slightly and
kissed her. "Mmm…I've been wanting to do that for two hours."

"I know what you mean," she murmured, "I've been wanting you to do
that for two hours."

"Think they suspected anything?"

"No. Would you stop worrying so much? We have to tell them eventually
Spike."

"I know. I just wanted to wait for a while."

She knit her brows together. "How long is a ‘while'?"

"I want to have a few sessions first."

"Spike, a few sessions is three weeks—"

"Buffy, please. I know you're gung ho about telling them as soon as
possible, and in order for me to be as strong as you need me to be, I'm
going to need some time. I want to at least get my footing in therapy first.
Besides, I want to have you all to myself right now."

Settling herself down on his bed, she laid down, hugging a pillow to her and
inhaling his scent on it. She wanted to drag him down with her and cuddle
up with him.

He seemed to sense her need, because after quickly locking his door, he
stretched out beside her and brought her in the haven of his arms. She
sighed in relief.

"We'll tell them Buffy. Soon. Can we just take it one step at a time?"

"I hate sneaking around. It makes the whole thing seem like some dirty
secret, Spike. I don't want us to be a dirty secret."

"We won't be. I'm just asking for some time. Three weeks tops, okay?"

She sighed heavily, "Okay."

"We'll find ways to be together. They're always going on about how they
want us to be close."

Buffy snorted.

"So, if we hang out more than usual, they'll just think we've bonded."

"I want to be able to bond while I fall asleep every night," she said honestly.
"I know it sounds strange, but after just two days of being in your bed with
you, I – I got used to it. It felt so right. I swear I've never slept as well as I
do in your arms."

"Buffy, what you do to me. . ." he rasped and buried his face in her hair. "It
doesn't sound strange at all. I feel the same way. Want you in my arms all
the time, I do. Used to imagine you there . . . "

"You did?"

"Yes," he said hoarsely.

"Promise me it'll happen soon," Buffy said, hating the plead in her voice.

"It'll happen soon. I promise."

Chapter Twenty Two

"Just be patient with him, Buffy," Doyle advised as he drove her over to meet Spike at his first therapy session the next day.

"So you don't think just telling our parents what's going is best?"

"Oh no, I do. I do think you should tell them. I'm hoping he'll come around
sooner than three weeks. However, given his fragile state, I think Spike
might actually need that time to screw his head on tight and gather his
courage about him."

Buffy looked at him with a wry smile, "'Gather his strength about him'?"

Doyle shrugged, "Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Actually it does, Dr. Doyle."

"Not studying psychology just for shits and giggles you know. I actually do
plan to use it."

"As well you should considering all the help you've given me. And Spike in a
roundabout way."

"What are best friends for? Not to be shoved aside, I can tell you that."

"Never, ever Doyle," Buffy promised.

As Doyle pulled into the parking lot of the building Spike had given her
directions to, Buffy started to shake.

"I'm nervous," she told Doyle.

"Of what?"

"What if the therapist tells Spike he's sick? What if she tells him that we're
both sick and perverted? What if he ends up getting set back instead of
moving forward? She could be corrupted, out to get him. Don't corrupt
doctors prey on the weak?" she ranted as Doyle put the car in a spot and
turned it off.

"Only when they want to have sex with them," Doyle said seriously.

Buffy whacked him on the arm. "I'm serious here!"

"I know, I'm sorry. You know what I just heard in that rant?" Doyle asked
and turned to her.

"What?"

"I heard you say that it could be the doctor saying he's sick and that you're
both twisted. You know what that says to me?"

"Doyle, honestly, I'm not in the mood to try and piece together my rants
and what they mean."

"You put it on the doctor, not you or him. You haven't alluded to either of
you being sick or perverted or wrong since . . . well, since you crazy kids
finally told each other how you felt. That says to me that you KNOW it's not
wrong or sick or perverted and that if anyone thinks so, it's on them and
not on either of you. That's what that rant said to me."

"You would read into something like that," Buffy rolled her eyes.

"It's what I do," Doyle shrugged.

"Well don't stop doing it."

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

"You made it," Spike said, smiling down at Buffy and bringing her close.

After her pep talk from Doyle, she'd rushed inside the building to meet Spike who was standing inside the foyer of the large building, looking awkward and out of place.

She wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him. "Told you I
would."

"Doyle give you a ride?"

She nodded, "Does that bother you?"

"No, not at all. He's a good, trustworthy friend."

"Who passes no judgment," she chimed in.

"Right. So, let's do this then."

"Where is it?"

"Third floor."

"Nervous?"

Spike nodded, not saying anything as he led her to the elevator with him.

Once inside, they were alone and Buffy took a good look at him; at the fear
in his eyes, at how taut with tension his body was.

She wrapped her arms around him once more and buried her face in his
chest. "Tell me, what are you nervous about? Is it the talking part? Or
what she'll say?"

"Both. I just, I don't know what to expect. I've only had limited contact
with doctors on a personal level. Most of my dealings with therapists were
for trying to understand Dru and . . . and getting her committed."

She looked up at him, caressing the side of his face in a calming manner.
"Not everyone knows what to do. Not everyone is brave enough to admit
when they need help."

"And God knows I need help, right?"

The elevator doors chimed and a second later they opened. Buffy squeezed
him once tightly before letting him go. Together they walked out of the
elevator and took an immediate right, following the numbers outside office
doors until they found the one that was right.

Spike grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly as they entered the waiting
room together. Walking up to reception, he gave his name and was handed
some papers to fill out. He turned to Buffy and gave her a nervous, lopsided
smile, "This is it then."

And when the doctor came for him, a woman by the name of Tara McClay,
Spike leaned over and kissed Buffy's forehead. "And so it begins," he
whispered.

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

"Was that your girlfriend?" Tara asked once the door was closed and she gestured for him to sit on the red vinyl chair against the wall. Tara took the chair across from him, curling her legs under her and placing her notebook on her lap.

"Yes," Spike said.

"What's her name?"

"Buffy."

Tara nodded and smiled. "Different."

"She's different all around. She's special, my Buffy," Spike said fondly,
grinning boyishly. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting.

"Now William—"

"Spike. I prefer Spike."

"Very well then. Spike. I want you to know that whatever we say here,
stays here."

"Patient confidentiality and all that rot?"

Tara smiled, "Yes. And all that ‘rot'."

"Sorry doc, don't mean to offend."

"You didn't. I don't offend easy."

"What's that like?"

"What?"

"To not offend easy?"

"I take it you do then."

"Offend easy?"

Tara nodded.

"I do. Well, I guess it depends on what we're talking about."

"Give me an example of something that offends you easily."

Spike chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I guess its not that I offend easily, I
just . . . I…"

"Take your time Spike."

He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head, making the curls
spring forth. "I feel weak. I feel that . . . I don't feel strong."

"Is that why you called to make an appointment?"

"Yes. That and to maybe find some peace with what happened with my ex
wife."

"Let's start at the beginning then, shall we?"

He nodded, still fidgeting.

She grabbed his papers, the one with the family information on them. She
looked up at him, "So. Buffy is –"

"My stepsister. No blood between us at all. She's my step mother's
daughter."

There was no expression on Tara's serene face as she simply said,
"Interesting."

Chapter Twenty – Three

Buffy tapped her foot incessantly against the carpeted floor of the waiting room. The receptionist looked in and smiled reassuringly at her and Buffy slowed down her tapping for a minute before starting up full speed again.

She couldn't concentrate. She'd tried picking up a magazine and reading it and got maybe halfway through a paragraph before she realized she hadn't retained any of it. She stared at the dull framed pictures of landscapes on the walls, the cream colored walls and the gray carpet counting the black squares in it. Her mind wandered to how drab it all was and how it needed sprucing up. The scenery did not match what little she had seen of Dr. McClay.

She glanced up at the clock across the room. Soon. Soon he'd be out.

"Dr. McClay is very good at what she does," the receptionist told her.

Buffy's head jerked up and she nodded slowly. "How old is she? Can you
tell me that?"

"She's young, but wise beyond her years. At least, she's young compared to
me," the woman smiled. "He's in good hands."

"It's that obvious huh?" Buffy asked sheepishly.

"I've seen a lot over the years," the receptionist replied.

Buffy nodded, "Thanks."

"No problem."

Her tapping stopped and she stared off at nothing wondering if this
nervous feeling was something that Spike had felt when he'd had to bring
Drusilla the first time. She wondered how it must have felt for him when
they told her it was best for her to be admitted. And Drusilla. How had it
felt for her? Did she know she wasn't right? Had she grown up with it or
was it something that had struck her suddenly? Buffy found herself feeling
sorry for the woman. Her original stance had been to hate her for trying to
drag Spike down with her, but when faced with something like a mental
breakdown the likes of which Drusilla had – would she do the same thing?
Misery loves company, the saying goes. Doesn't the misery seem less if you
have another to share it with you? And what better way to feel in control of
a losing battle than to know you've taken someone down with you on the
way.

Buffy shivered at the thought just as the door opened and Spike came out.
She looked up at him and he smiled. "Hi."

"Hi," she greeted him softly and stood, unsure if she should go to him or
give him some breathing room.

"Ready to get out of here?" he asked.

She nodded, studying him. He didn't look to her as someone that had just
got read the riot act. He looked calm. Looks could be deceiving though, so
nothing was certain as of yet.

"Come on," he waved her over as he opened the door to the hall and they
stepped out.

She looked up at him as the door clicked shut behind him. He nodded for
her to follow him and off he went.

"Spike?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah?"

"How'd it go?"

"Good."

They stepped into the elevator and he pushed the button for their floor
and leaned his back against the wall casually.

"Well?" she prompted.

"Do you want me to give you the play by play? I don't want to do that
Buffy."

She was hurt by that even though she knew that what he said to Dr.
McClay was personal and he didn't have to tell her.

"I know and you don't have to," she said slowly. "I just want to know if
maybe you told her. . . "

"About us?"

She nodded.

"I did. She said ‘Interesting'."

Buffy raised a brow, "She said ‘Interesting'. That's it?"

"Yes. We talked about families. Dad. Mom. My real mom, the death of my
real mom. . . all of that family stuff."

"So it was . . . okay?"

"Well, it's too early to tell how well it'll go and what she can do for me. But I
like her. I have more faith than I did when I first called."

"That's good," Buffy said, feeling hope.

The elevator dinged and opened. Stepping out, Spike took her hand and
kissed the back of it. She inwardly sighed with relief. His noncommittal and
distant demeanor had been worrying her.

"It's just . . . you know when you talk about things you haven't put much
thought into for a long time and it kind of leaves you feeling . . . well,
thoughtful?"

She nodded.

"That's how I feel right now. I haven't thought about my real mom in ages.
I never really allowed myself to and talking about her . . . brought some
memories back."

"Good ones?"

"Yes, good ones. And, some sad when I think of when she got sick . . . Do
you ever think of your real dad?"

The question caught her off guard though it probably shouldn't have
considering the topic of conversation.

She blinked at him, regaining her equilibrium a bit as images of the man
who'd abandoned her so long ago came surging up in her minds eye.

"Not really. He wasn't much of a dad when he was there to begin with. We
share blood, not a bond. Giles is my Dad," she told him.

Opening the car door for her, she climbed in and waited for him to come
around. He smiled at her as he slid in beside her. "I'm not going to break,
Buffy," he told her.

She looked away from him, "I know," she mumbled.

"I know you were just as nervous as me today," he told her. "Look at me
please, Buffy."

She looked back to him and met his gaze.

"I have a good feeling. Better than I have in a long time," he admitted.

"Was it scary when you had to take Drusilla to the doctor?" Buffy asked
hesitantly.

"It was," he nodded, looking down.

"Did she know?

"That she was sick?" he asked, looking up at her.

She nodded.

"I think so. When she was lucid anyway, I think she knew. She was scared
too."

Silence fell and Spike started the car, pulled out of the parking lot and
started on his way home.

Buffy leaned her head back and stared up at the roof of the car as he
drove. She closed her eyes. "So you talked about when we met?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"Spike, I love you."

"I know you do, kitten. I love you too."

"I know," she whispered and let her mind wander.



FLASHBACK



Buffy had just gotten home from baseball practice. She was hot, sweaty
and probably on the gross side, but she was dying to tell Spike how she'd
managed to hit a homerun during a scrimmage. He was, after all, the one
who had helped her hitting by pitching the ball to her at the park the past
weekend. She'd been having a hitting slump and the more frustrated she
got over it, the worse it became. Spike had helped her though. He made her
laugh, taught her how to relax and not focus on it and soon, she'd been a
hitting machine. Whipping off her hat on the couch, and kicking off her
cleats, she ran up the stairs calling his name.

His door was slightly open and she barged in, "Spike, guess what, I hit a
homerun—crap! Sorry!"

He was on his bed in a lip lock with the latest flavor of the month. She
couldn't even remember what this ones name was. He was going to kill her
this time for sure.

Buffy spun on heel, slammed the door shut behind her, and barreled into
her room before Spike could come after her and ream her out for barging
into his room AGAIN.

She started gathering some clean clothes to take down to the bathroom
with her so she could shower when she heard yelling from his room. She
couldn't help but strain to her; she was a curious fifteen year old. Hell, she
was just nosy.

"She's always ruining our good time, Spike! She comes in and you feel like
you have to run off to tend to her. She's fifteen for Christ's Sake; you don't
have to take care of her. She can take care of herself!" his girlfriend was
yelling at him.

Buffy glared at the wall.

"She had practice after school and she's been really nervous about the
hitting slump she's been in," Spike defended her.

"You're more interested in going after that tomboy than getting some
action from me?" the girl laughed scornfully.

"Don't talk about Buffy like that," Spike snapped.

"Like what? It's the truth isn't it? She's a freaking tomboy. My little sister
goes to school with her. She says that your darling little sister can beat up
the boys like a pro. According to my sister, her habits are deplorable. She's
disgusting—"

"Get the fuck out of my house right now," Spike said so coldly, Buffy felt
the cold front sweep through her room from his. Her eyes widened. He was
really going to throw her out? She wasn't exactly lying about her habits;
her mother was always telling her that she needed to act like more of a
lady. Hell, Spike told her the same thing at times. However, that was
usually after she'd beat him in a burping contest.

"Spike!" the girl protested.

"Get out! You don't talk about my sister like that, ever."

Apparently the girl was leaving as Buffy heard the distinct sound of
stomping reverberate through the house, shaking the floors and walls. The
door slamming punctuated the open hostility at being ordered to leave.

Buffy went to her door and opened it a crack to see if Spike was around.

"Hi, kitten."

Buffy eeped and jumped back as Spike appeared suddenly before her.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Can I come in?" he asked, smiling gently at her.

She nodded and opened her door wider.

He strolled in and sat down on her bed. "So, you hit a homerun?" he asked
casually as if he hadn't just told his current flame to get the fuck out of the
house; as if they were just continuing a conversation from earlier.

She blinked at him, "Uh, yeah."

His head tilted to the side and he gestured to the wall separating their
rooms. "You heard all that?"

"Kind of hard not to," she told him honestly.

He stood and came over to her, swiping a hand across her cheekbone,
brushing off the dirt that rest there. He chuckled, "You're a mess."

She smiled wryly, "Thanks. Spike, you didn't have to tell her to get out. It's
not like she's lying about me—"

"Not the point Buffy. She was rude." He shrugged then, nonchalantly. "I
was tired of her anyway."

Buffy gave him a look, "Oh really?" she asked, putting her hands on her
hips.

He copied her, teasing her, "Yes, really."

"But Spike, aren't you more interested in getting some action from her
than spending time with a tomboy like me?" she teased, only half serious.

"I'd rather spend time with you, Buffy," Spike told her seriously. "Don't
you know that you're my most favorite person?"

She smiled, her insides melting. "I am?"

"When you're not being disgusting," he grinned.

She slugged him playfully on the arm and laughed.

He sat back down on her bed. "So tell me about this homerun."

END FLASHBACK

Buffy rolled her head to look at Spike as he drove them home. He was always there, always. It had always been him. She wondered how she'd managed to miss it all those years. Sliding closer to him, she rested her head lightly on his shoulder.

"What's that then, Kitten?"

"I just love you."

He smiled and quickly kissed her forehead. "Love you too baby."

Chapter Twenty – Four

Later that night, Buffy crawled out of her window and sat up on the roof, chatting with Doyle on her cell. Spike had been inside talking with Joyce and Giles about how he'd decided to seek help from all that had happened with Drusilla.

She hadn't expected him to tell them, but at dinner, he'd just spilled forth
with the information. She'd been wondering what else was going to come out of his mouth. She sat there and listened to him, smiling encouragingly at him. Her mother had welled up in tears and Giles had started clearing his throat a lot. It was then that Buffy had decided he probably needed some alone time with them.

Drusilla hadn't been mentioned by either parent since his return and she figured that this could be part of the healing process involving their parents. If it was out in the open and not ignored and swept under the rug for fear of hurt feelings and judgments being passed, then healing could begin.

"So, he finally asked you out?" Buffy asked Doyle.

"Yes, the big oaf finally asked. Like I didn't already know he was going to."
She could practically see Doyle rolling his eyes. "So, what did you say?"

"Well, I finally let him get around to asking, I said no thank you."

"What do you mean when you finally let him get around to asking?" Buffy
giggled again.

Doyle launched into the stalling techniques he'd used on Riley earlier that
day, when like she had a honing beacon where Spike was concerned, she
felt him nearby.

Sure enough, when she glanced over her shoulder she found him climbing
out the window to join her. She smiled at him and he grinned back as he sat
himself down next to her.

Doyle was ranting still and she didn't want to cut him off and yet at the
same time she wanted to find out how it went with Spike and their parents.

Spike in the meantime, took it upon himself to tease her. Leaning in, he
nuzzled her neck with his lips and peppered her collar bone with kisses. She
tilted her head to the side, letting out a small sigh. Spike nipped at her
earlobe and sucked lightly on her neck while his other hand skimmed
across her stomach and settled on her waist, pulling her closer to him.
When she was sufficiently close enough by his standards, and she could feel
the heat of his body, his hand made a leisurely path to her chest where he
cupped her breast in his hand lightly.

"Then I told him I was sorry but no thank you," Doyle finished on an
exaggerated sigh.

"Oh, that's good," Buffy murmured, her skin breaking out in goosebumps
when Spike's fingers expertly teased her nipple to a point.

"Spike's right there with you isn't he?" Doyle said dryly.

She sat up a bit straighter and pushed Spike's hand off her breast. He
growled at her and nipped at her neck.

"Doyle, I was listening. I really was."

"Did I hear him just GROWL?"

"Yes," she said meekly.

"My God that's sexy. Go see to him would you?" and he clicked off.

She laughed and clicked the phone off settling it carefully next to her
before launching herself at Spike. She pushed him down on the roof and
attacked him with ravenous kisses. Straddling him about the waist she sat
up and smiled down at him.

"How'd it go with Mom and Giles?" she asked.

His eyes widened. "You're straddling me and you're thinking of that?" he
thrust his hips upwards so she could feel the erection he was sporting in the
crack of her ass.

She gasped and her eyes widened. She hit him lightly on the chest, "Spike!"
she admonished him.

"What do you expect?" he grinned. "When you're on top of me . . . or
kissing me. . . or just looking at me—"

She blushed profusely and looked away. A second later she found herself
mashed up against his hard chest with his arms around her waist holding
her to him. He was nuzzling the side of her face when he answered. "It went
fine."

"Did Mom cry and launch into her ‘I'm so proud of you, you're such a fine
boy, the son I never had' speech?"

Spike chuckled, "She did."

"And did Giles clean his glasses so often he nearly made a hole in them?"

Spike laughed and she could feel the vibrations against her stomach.
Hearing him laugh was such a great sound that she found herself laughing
along with him.

"He did," Spike finally answered.

"We should get inside before they come out here," Buffy whispered.

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah," he said
fondly. "Don't really want to though."

"Nor do I, but until we tell them . . . " she trailed off.

"Yeah, I know," he whispered and leaned up, kissing her softly. "Soon," he
promised.


Leaving Buffy to go to her own room had been difficult. He wanted her in
bed with him, to hold her and have the comfort of her presence. Therapy
had indeed left him thoughtful. Made him think of things that he'd tried not
to think of for so long. Not only his mother, but of Buffy too. All of those
precious memories he'd tried not to dwell on because somehow Dru had
always known.

FLASHBACK

"I look like . . . like . . . " Buffy's muffled voice sounded through the door to her bedroom.

Spike raised his eyebrows as he meandered up the stairs.

"A girl?" Joyce supplied tersely.

Spike chuckled, "What's going on in there?"

"Buffy has a sports banquet to attend this weekend, honoring the achievements of those involved in sports throughout the year. The star pitcher for the boys baseball team asked her if she'd attend with him and she amazingly, agreed."

Spike's jaw clenched and he tried his best to act nonchalant. The idea of some grubby git with his paws on Buffy made his gut clench. "What's his name?"

"Angel," Joyce replied. Spike smirked, "Angel? What a ponce."

The door flew open and there stood a gorgeous torrent of anger. "He is NOT a ponce. He's amazing. He had three no hitters in a row this past season I'll have you know," she informed Spike.

Spike stared at her, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision before him.

Joyce gasped, "Buffy, you look so beautiful."

Buffy was studying Spike curiously, "You're staring at me. I look awful don't I?"

Joyce's attention snapped to him and he shook his head. "No, luv, you don't look awful. You look beautiful. You really do." Bleedin' gorgeous is what you are, he thought.

Buffy looked down at herself uncertainly. She wore a shiny satin black flared skirt and a matching dressy tank top with blues, greens and black swirled into it. Her well defined arms and chest were visible for once, but the look was not trashy in the least. She looked like a Diva. The greens and blues in the tank brought her eyes to the forefront and her hair falling in wavy cascades framed her face. Spike knew that Joyce would make her put makeup on and that when she did, Buffy would look utterly breathtaking. She did already.

"When's this banquet?" Spike asked.

"This weekend. Saturday." Joyce told him as she fussed a bit with the skirt and tank while Buffy scowled at her.

"I'm coming."
Buffy's eyes widened. "What?"

"I'm coming," he said simply. He told himself to walk away before the
questions started but he couldn't. All he wanted to do was look his fill of her.
His hands itched to touch her creamy skin. He was willing to bet that her
skin was as soft and supple as it looked. Amazing feat with all the sports she
did. He wanted to glide his hands down her arms, cup her breast in his hand
and feel the weight – Great. Now he was getting hard in front of his sister
and mother.

Shame washed over him. Suddenly the hall was too small and he felt as if he
couldn't breathe.

"Spike, hello, talking to you," Buffy was waving her hand in front of his face.

He blinked, "Huh? What?"

"Do you want to go to the park with me? Play some basketball?"

Spend time alone with the girl of his dreams? After he'd seen her like this?
Glowing and gorgeous and God, she was a Goddess.

"No, bloody hell Buffy, I've got shit to do. I don't have time to be shooting
hoops with you all the time," he snapped and stomped off.

"Spike!" Joyce exclaimed.

He slammed the door, feeling an onslaught of tears coming on.

"It's okay, Mom. I've been after him all week. He's probably just tired of
me," he heard Buffy say softly, the hurt in her voice evident. Now he felt
even worse. His body ached to touch her, his soul ached to be with her, and
his heart was shattering because none of that was possible.

He was a bad, bad man.

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

Spike blinked back the tears that fell from his eyes. It was different now, he thought to himself. It's not the same anymore. She loves me and I love her and it's NOT wrong.

Rolling out of bed, Spike went over and locked his door before crawling out his window and into Buffy's. He locked her door and crawled into bed with her, brushing her hair away from her face.

"Spike?" she said sleepily, her eyes fluttering open.

"Ssshhh…It's okay baby," he murmured, kissing her forehead, "Go back to sleep."

"What about Mom and Giles?" she murmured, burrowing into him.

"It's taken care of, don't worry about it," he whispered and held her tighter.

"Why are you here?" she asked on a yawn.

"To prove that I can be."

Chapter Twenty Five

Buffy’s eyes shot open as she felt the stirrings of an orgasm approach her along with the stirring of Spike’s tongue inside her. She’d been resting peacefully, her rest even more peaceful since Spike had joined her bed the night before, and now she was awakening to an orgasm that she knew was going to overwhelm her with its intensity.

He was awfully fond of going down on her in the morning it seemed.

“Spike,” she gasped as the heat grew and rose within her, she strained against him and grabbed hold of the sheets at her fingertips. In a desperate move, she reached up and grabbed hold of her pillow and smothered the impending
scream of ecstasy. It was simply impossible to stay quiet when Spike was working his magic.


And then it hit her and she screamed as softly
as she could into the pillow. Spike moaned against her folds,
the vibration of it tickling her clit into another rush. And now
she was smothering herself in her pillow. Whipping it off her
face, she moved quickly to disengage his mouth from her.
She grabbed onto his shoulder and tugged, whimpering
slightly.

He grinned, that predatory grin that made her
panties wet and crushed his lips to hers.

“Why the pillow?” he asked when they were
gasping for air.

“What do you mean why?” she
whispered. “Mom and Giles?”

“Left for work already,” he said, nuzzling her
neck as he stretched out beside her. She felt the nude slide
of his body against hers and felt a rush of lust go through her.

It was amazing what he did to her. And, from the feel of his
erection rubbing against her belly, she had the same affect
on him.

She pulled her head back, demanding that he look at her fully.
He did without question and she reached between them,
grabbing hold of his cock, smearing the pre-cum around the
head and down his steel shaft. His cock jerked in her hands
and seemed to grow even more. His head lolled back and he
groaned, clutching her hips tightly.

“Look at me,” she demanded huskily. “I want to watch you
like you like to watch me.”

His eyes snapped open and she smiled when his eyes met
hers lustfully with just a hint of surprise. She smirked and pumped him quicker watching the pleasure flicker across his face.

“Buffy—“ he grunted. “I’m going to come all over your
sheets—“

Letting him go abruptly she slid down to his cock. “No you
won’t. Come for me Spike,” and she sucked hard on the
head.

He exploded in her mouth and roared her name. She
swallowed the milky jets as fast as she could, some dribbling
from the corner of her mouth. Lazily she cleansed his cock
with her mouth, listening to his little moans of bliss. Climbing
up, she laid beside him and glanced quickly at her alarm
clock. Drat. She had to start getting ready and so did he.

He wrapped her up in his arms, putting a leg over hers
possessively and buried his face in her neck.

She glided her hand up and down his back, basking in
him. “Spike?”

“Yeah?” he murmured.

“What made you come in my room last night?”

“I was thinking about stuff and I wanted to be here instead of
alone in my bed without you.”

“Stuff like...?” she urged.

He sighed and pulled back to look at her. “Remember when
you had that sports banquet in high school?”

“Specifics. I had many in high school.”

“You went with Angel.”

“Ah, oh yeah. The guy who dumped me
because I was a better athlete than him.”

“He was a ponce,” Spike grumbled.

Buffy smiled, “I think you might be biased. He wasn’t bad.
Just competitive. It killed him that a girl was better than he
was.”

“Anyway, I was thinking about that day I came home and you
were trying on this outfit you had gotten for it and I was standing there wanting you so much . . . and I was filled with
shame because I wanted you,” he shook his head. “I yelled at
you. You asked me if I wanted to shoot hoops and I told you I
had better things to do than shoot hoops with you all the time.
I heard the hurt in your voice when you told Joyce that you’d
been badgering me and that I was probably tired of you. I
hated myself for wanting you and I hated myself for hurting
you. I’m sorry.”

Buffy kissed him softly. “It’s over now. Things
aren’t the same, remember?”

“Which is why I came in here last night. There I was a room
away from you, missing you and wanting to be in your arms
and it was okay for me to be with you. That Spike couldn’t be
with you, but this one can and is. I didn’t want to deny myself
anymore.”

“That’s a very good step, William,” Buffy said, smiling
gently. “Does that mean that we can tell Mom and Giles?” she
asked hopefully.

“It was a good step, but I’m still not ready for that, luv.”

She nodded, disappointed. “Okay. Hey, when’s your next
appointment with Dr. McClay?

“In two days. She wants to see me a couple
times during the week for now. Guess I’m sicker than I
thought.”

She poked him with her finger in the chest. “Don’t say that.”

“Can I convince you to come out with me tonight? Just us?
Maybe we could go for a picnic in the park?”

“Who would have guessed you’d be such a romantic?”

“You bring it out in me luv.”

The alarm going off let them know time was
now up. Buffy sighed, “I’ll meet you at the park then? I’ll just
go from Doyle’s so mom and Giles don’t wonder.”

“Sounds good, luv. I’ll come home first and grab a shower. I’ll
come home at lunch and prepare it all and just keep it in the
fridge at work.”

Buffy nodded, sighing inwardly. So much work just to spend
time together. She wanted to point that out to him, but knew it
would do no good to push him. For both their sake’s.



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


“Tell me about Buffy,” Tara said to Spike the following
week at their session.

Spike blinked, “What do you want to know about her?”

Tara studied him,”You got defensive there.”

He looked down, “I did.”

“Why?”

“Buffy is a . . . I don’t want to to say sore subject for
me. That makes it sound as if she’s hurtful to me, because
she’s not.”

“But you think your feelings for her and for each other
are hurtful,” Tara observed.

“Yes.”

“Is it hurtful to you that she loves you?” Tara asked.

“No,” Spike replied, shaking his head.

“Is it hurtful for you to love her?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s
where it gets tricky.”

“How so?”

“When I fell in love with her when she was just a kid
for Christ’s Sake. What kind of pervert was I lusting after my
fourteen year old sister,” Spike said incredulously.

“She’s not your sister,” Tara told him bluntly.

“Tell that to my father and my step mother,” Spike
muttered.

“Spike, everyone has a taboo or ‘bad’ thought;
thoughts that could be considered wrong and unhealthy. It’s
what we do with those thoughts that makes the difference.
You fell in love with Buffy when you were no more than a kid
yourself. At seventeen you’re a guy with raging hormones
who wants to ‘get laid’. It’s normal. It’s not like you took those
urges you had towards Buffy and took advantage of her or
forced yourself on her. At her age, yes, that wouldn’t have
been right. Instead, you treated her the same as you always
had and beat yourself up for having those thoughts; those
feelings. Were you betraying Buffy by having them or were
you betraying your father and step mother?”

“My parents,” he murmured.

“How?”

“They thought I was being big brother Spike, when I
was really being the guy who wanted Buffy for myself.”

“You never acted on it, Spike. You can’t beat yourself
up for the things that you felt. You are not a bad man. You
are not sick, you are not perverted. You’re human.
Pedophiles are individuals who take advantage of the young
and use force on them; who get off on hurting children
because it satisfies a dark craving inside them. You are not a
pedophile, for you never forced yourself on Buffy. And do
you know why?”

Spike shook his head, fighting back tears.

“Because you loved her. You still love her. It’s part of
the reason why you’re here, isn’t it?”

He nodded, wiping at his eyes.

Tara got up and moved so that she sat beside him.
She took his hands in hers and looked at him imploringly. “It’s
time to let it go, Spike. It’s time to stop beating yourself up and
making something special into something dirty and wrong. I
want you to tell me now what you love about Buffy. What it
was that drew her to you back then. Don’t hold anything
back, tell me all of it.”

Spike took a shuddering breath, trying not to sob out
the wealth of emotions coursing through him. One of them
namely being relief.

“Th—thank you,” he whispered hoarsely.

Tara squeezed his hands in hers. “For what?”

“For telling it’s not wrong. F-for saying it’s okay to feel
as I have and as I do.”

“Say it out loud, Spike. Say ‘I love Buffy and it’s not
wrong.’”

“I-I love Buffy and it’s not wrong,” he repeated back.

“Again.”

“I l-love Buffy and it’s not wrong.”

“Again.”

“I love Buffy and it’s not wrong.”

“Again.”

“I love Buffy and it’s not wrong.”

“One more time.”

“I love Buffy and it’s not wrong,” he said this time with
conviction, with strength of voice and a determined glint in his
eye.

“I want you to say that to yourself whenever you
start to feel guilt, or when you start to feel wrong for loving
her. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” he sighed heavily, expelling the tension held
tight within him.

“Tell me now; tell me what it was that drew you to
her.”

Spike gave her a watery smile and swallowed back
the rest of his tears held at bay for now. “I can tell you that
she is and was unlike any girl I’d ever known or wanted to
know.”

“Give me an adjective to describe her.”

“Audacious,” he said without hesitation.

Tara squeezed his hand, “Do you think that’s
something you’d like to have possessed within yourself?
Quick answer, don’t think about it.”

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes sparkling. “Just to be
near her . . . you get caught up in her. You can’t help but
want to be near it, touch it, have it surround you. She has so
much LIFE. Even then, especially then. Time has made her a
little jaded, a little harder around the edges, but that life is still
there in her.

She doesn’t want anyone to consider her weak or
incapable of doing anything, she’s stubborn and proud. You
think she’s all sharp edges that’ll cut you if you get too close
to her, and she has this wall up that shuts you out, keeps
you at a distance. But, but if she allows you to get close to
her, you see the real her, the gem she is.

She has such a kind, loving heart. She goes to bat for
the ones she loves and when she loves you, she makes you
feel like a God.

She always let me in. She idolized me and I think she
took on some of my traits in the process.”

“So it’s only fitting that you should want to take on
some of hers.”

“I don’t want to be dependant on her. Buffy would
never go for that. She’s a free spirit and she let me catch
her—“

“She caught you too, Spike. She wanted you to be the
one to catch her.”

Spike nodded profusely, “Yes, yes, that’s true. She
did. I thought I had a rough idea what love was all about
when I was younger, pre-Buffy. At fifteen, I imagined it’d be
me being loved by someone and taken care of. I thought it
was all about kissing and hugging and sex and that as long
as you had that, then you had it all. I wanted to be
worshipped; I wanted to be the center of someone’s
existence. Then I fell for Buffy and realized that I didn’t want
her to worship me for I worshipped her.

I just wanted to share things with her. She was the one I
wanted to tell about my day, she was the one I wanted to
see a horror movie with. When I got too big for my britches, I
wanted her to be the one to tell me to get over myself. And
she would,” Spike chuckled. “She might have idolized me, but
she had no problem telling me to shove it up my arse.

She wasn’t like the girls my age. She was older somehow;
wiser. She wasn’t into getting falling down drunk and
sleeping with random guys. She wasn’t into hair and makeup
and showing off her flat stomach. She was a tomboy. Still is.
I thought I’d wanted a girl that was everything Buffy wasn’t.
But I was wrong. I’ve dated girls like that, girls with no
substance, girls that played games and snapped their gum
and batted their eyes to get what they want. Buffy would
sooner arm wrestle me to get what she wanted than resort
to such games. Though, she has tried it. Pulled the ol’ ‘but
Spike I’m your little sister’ routine. Like I wouldn’t give her everything and anything she wanted.
Buffy is the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And it’s not all her looks; it’s her spirit and her soul. It’s her heart and her mind. It’s everything. Those were things that drew me to her, and those are the things that kept my heart with her.”

“Spike, that’s so beautiful,” Tara said softly, dabbing
at her eyes. “Have you ever told her those things?”
Spike shrugged; feeling shy suddenly. “Here and there.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She really is,” Spike said, nodding and smiling sheepishly.

“Say it again, Spike.”

“I love Buffy and it’s not wrong.”

Chapter Twenty-six

"I want to tell Mom and Dad," Spike told Buffy later that night as they set the table for dinner.

Joyce, having been so happy to have her family under one roof again, thought it would be a wonderful idea to have them start having family dinners in the event they were all home at dinner.

Thankfully, it didn't happen often. Buffy didn't think she'd be able to
stomach much more Brady Bunch type family dinners. Especially since she
and Spike were not of the Greg and Marcia persuasion anymore. Not unless
it was them off camera that is.

Buffy stared at him," What? Like now?"

He nodded, looking nervous.

"Spike, I thought you wanted to wait a while."

"We have waited a while, Buffy," he told her as if waiting had been her idea
the whole time in the first place. That was a tad infuriating.

"What happened at therapy today?"

He gave her a look, "Look, I think now is a good time to tell them."

"Are you sure? You don't want to wait a little longer? Another week?"

"You're the one who wanted to tell them when they got home. Now you
want to wait. What's up with that?"

"Why are you getting so defensive?"

"Why are you?"

"I'm—" she took a deep breath, calming herself. "I just want to make sure
you're really ready. Not just high after a good session or whatever."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Just something that Doyle told me
about. He's studying psychology and—"

"I forgot, Doyle knows everything," Spike said dryly, shaking his head and
whipping open the silverware drawer.

"Hey you have somebody to talk to; it's only fair that I should too. He might
not be licensed yet, but he's good at it. He's even already putting my bill
together for when he is licensed. He said he's giving me a discount, but I'm
not buying it—"

"Buffy!"

"Sorry. Look, does it really bother you that I talk to Doyle about stuff? He's
my best friend Spike. I need someone to talk to too," she said, putting her
hand on his arm gently. She looked up at him pleadingly.

He sighed, "I'm sorry Buffy. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just tense is
all. It's like now that I feel brave enough to tell them about us, I just want
to do it and get it over with."

"Then by all means, get it over with."

Buffy felt the floor drop out from under her and she felt as if she were
moving in slow motion as she turned her head to see Joyce standing across
the counter from them with her hands on her hips. Joyce did not look
happy.

"Mom," Buffy started and then stopped because she didn't know how to
proceed.

Joyce started tapping her feet, her eyebrows raising. "Yes?"

"I . . . don't know how to start," Buffy finished honestly.

"Let me help you out then. There's something that you want to tell me and
your father about the two of you. From the sound of it—"

"Buffy and I are in love. We're together," Spike blurted out.

"That's one way to do it," Buffy muttered.

Joyce stood, frozen, staring at them. The tapping ceased and her face froze.
"What?"

"Mom, don't freak," Buffy said and started to round the counter to comfort
her mother.

She halted when Joyce held up her hands to stop her. Buffy skidded to a
stop.

"You're WHAT? Please tell me this is some kind of practical joke you two
cooked up," Joyce said, almost pleading.

Buffy shook her head. Spike made no movement, no sound.

"Mom—" Buffy began.

"GILES!" Joyce shouted at the top of her lungs.

Spike started muttering something softly while Joyce stormed out of the
kitchen to find her husband. Buffy glided over to Spike to hear what he was
muttering.

"I love Buffy and it's not wrong," he kept saying, his gaze fixed straight
ahead, his hand gripping a fork.

Buffy took hold of his hand and eased the fork out his hand. He seemed to
come out of his stupor somewhat. He looked down at her. Cupping the side
of his face, Buffy told him. "And I love you. And it's NOT wrong. I need you
to be strong now Spike."

He nodded, scratching the back of his head, "I – yeah, yeah, I know."

"Spike, stay with me please," Buffy pleaded. "Don't flake on me now."

"Yeah, yeah, I w-won't."

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Giles bellowed, storming into the
kitchen, followed by a distraught Joyce who was wringing her hands.

"Giles, it's not a bad thing—" Buffy started.

"He's your BROTHER!" Giles yelled. He turned his focus to Spike. "What
the hell is wrong with you? Where is your head?"

"Don't yell at him!" Buffy shouted at Giles. "He didn't do anything wrong."
She slipped her arm through Spike's and felt him trembling.

She put her hand back on his face, making him look at her. "Spike, it's not
wrong."

"Yes, it is. You're brother and sister for Christ's sake!" Giles yelled. "It's
sick. What have you done?" he demanded of Spike.

Buffy moved so that she stood in front of Spike, shielding him. "It is NOT
sick. It's NOT wrong. We're NOT really related. There's no blood between
us—"

"You were raised as brother and sister," Giles argued.

"Not our whole lives," Buffy countered.

"Are you telling me--?" Giles looked horrified and Joyce started wailing,
looking ready to pass out.

"No!" Buffy exclaimed. "We didn't – not THEN. It didn't happen until Spike
came back."

"Your marriage falls apart so you prey on Buffy? Your SISTER?" Giles said
angrily, turning red.

"I – I can't do this," Spike stammered, inching away.

Buffy grabbed his arm, "Spike, don't run out on me now. We're in this
together, remember?"

"I'm sorry Buffy," he whispered, his face starting to crumble.

"Spike, please," Buffy pleaded, but he was pulling away.

He shook his head, "I'm sorry," he said to her and then to their parents.
"I'm a bad man," he whispered and ran out the door.

Buffy spun to Giles and Joyce, the rage pouring off her in waves. "You
couldn't just let us explain. You had to come in here and accuse and make
him feel dirty. You couldn't just listen and TRY to understand. Do you have
any idea what he's gone through?" she shook her head at them and ran out
the door after him. His car was still there, wherever he was, he was on foot.
He couldn't have gone far.

Running to the end of the driveway, she shouted his name. Giles and Joyce were calling after her, their voices coming closer.

She spun to them, "If anything happens to him, it's all your fault!" she yelled at them before tearing off down the street after her beloved.

Chapter Twenty –seven

Buffy's feet pounded the pavement as she ran as hard and as fast as she could. She didn't even know if she was going in the right direction to find Spike. She just needed to get away from their parents.

Stopping to catch her breath, she hunched over, gasping for air. She took deep breaths, the kind they taught her in track in high school so that she could run farther. As she started to catch her breath, the tears came and she let loose. Sobs wracked her body and anger doubled up with fear for Spike and what he was going through; and for what they had just gone through. She was a block and half away from Doyle's. To top it all off, her calf was cramping up. Hobbling down the street while trying to get herself under control, Buffy called out Spike's name which came out more like a whimper. Doyle had a car; he'd help her find him.

She couldn't remember a time when she'd been so angry with her parents.
Giles had been downright cruel to Spike. It was uncalled for—and why had
he attacked his son like that? Why didn't they put any blame her way? Not
that there was anything or anyone to ‘blame'. But if they were looking for
someone to blame, they were BOTH in the relationship so why just target
Spike? Course, thinking back, Giles had always been hard on Spike. And,
most of the time, Spike had warranted Giles riding his ass. He'd been quite
the rebel growing up and perhaps it was just a throwback to those days.
Something went wrong, so Giles blamed Spike. Except this wasn't wrong.
For all the steps he'd taken forward in therapy, he'd just taken all of them
back.

She knew it was just too soon.

Knocking on Doyle's door, she took several deep breaths and wiped her
tears away, in case his parents were home. She wasn't up to freaking them
out and having to explain.

Thankfully, however, the door flew open and there stood Doyle. He took
one look at her and knew something was up. "All right, what happened?" he
asked as he ushered her in.Buffy held her breath, trying not to cry again.
Just seeing Doyle made her want to give in to the tears again.

"Buffy, it's okay. Tell me what happened," Doyle said calmly, ushering her
up the stairs to his room. "We've got the house to ourselves for a while, so
let it all out. Did you and Spike have a fight?"

"No," she started her voice shaking. "Worse."

"Start at the top."

Buffy spilled it all from her conversation with Spike in the kitchen to how
Joyce had overheard to how she ended up on his doorstep. She left nothing
out; and her anger bubbled forth and spewed out, along with her worry
over Spike.

"Does he know anyone in this area? Does he have a favorite place he likes
to go to?" Doyle asked, handing her tissues.

Blowing her nose loudly, she shook her head. "No. Oh, wait! Xander. He
could have gone to Xander's."

"Didn't you tell me Xander had been skeeved out by your relationship with
Spike?" Doyle asked, scratching his head.

Buffy narrowed her eyes, "Yeah, the big jerk."

"Hey, hey. You're talking to the future Mr. Harris."

Buffy gave him a look.

"You're right. He's a jerk. Just wait till I work with him, all right? There's a
reason he's so uptight and repressed."

"Doyle, normally, I am all on board for discussing your ‘men', but right now
I have one of my own to find."

"Sorry. You're absolutely right. I say we pop in on Mr. Harris
first."

"Doyle—"

"Just a hunch. Go with me on it, please?"

"Fine," she grumbled.

"All right, let's go," Doyle chirped and started out of his room.

"Uh, don't we need to look up where he lives?" Buffy started as she
followed him.

Doyle stopped and turned to look at her, eyebrow raised.

"Of course you looked him up. I should have known." Buffy shook her head.

"How many driveby's have you done?"

"Oh shut up."

"A lot huh?"

"You're going to be riding in the trunk you keep it up."

"My lips are sealed."

Fifteen minutes later, Doyle and Buffy were climbing the steps to Xander's
second story apartment.

"These are pretty nice from the outside," Doyle observed. "We'll be happy
here for a while until we move into a ginormous house."

Buffy rolled her eyes, trying not to dwell on her heart hammering in her
chest. What if Spike turned her away?

"Okay, here we are. 2C." Poising her hand over Xander's door, she
hesitated for a second before Doyle jumped in and knocked.

"Don't get weak on me now," Doyle admonished her.

"Weak? I'm not—"

The door opened, halting Buffy's imminent tirade. Xander stood there,
looking surprised to find them.

"Uh, Buffy—" he started, looking over his shoulder.

"So, he's here, huh?" Doyle asked dryly.

Xander snapped his attention to Doyle. Buffy's eyes popped in surprise to
see Xander blushing at her best friend. Perhaps Doyle was right all along
about him. His eyes darted back to Buffy. "Buffy, I don't know that he
wants to see anyone right now." Xander told her, coming out on the porch
and closing the door behind him.

"Did he say that?" Buffy demanded.

"Yes."

"That includes me?"

"I think so," Xander said, uncertainly.

"Let's find out for sure, shall we?" Buffy said harshly and practically shoved
Xander out of the way and stormed into his apartment. Her eyes had to
adjust a minute to the minimal light in what appeared to be his kitchen.

"Spike Giles, get your ass out here now!" She bellowed across the
apartment, not bothering to play nice and sympathetic anymore. She didn't
like being avoided; she didn't like being run away from. He was supposed to
stay by her side through this and he'd left her. He'd promised not to and he
did.

Spike came into sight, standing in an archway a second later. He looked
awful. He'd been crying a lot as his eyes were red and puffy.

Buffy's anger fled her a bit but she refused to move. If he wanted her, he
needed to tell her so. If he was avoiding her . . . well, he was getting her
anyway.

"Buffy, I'm sorry," he whimpered and opened his arms. She flew into them
and he wrapped his arms around her desperately. She clung to him just as
desperately.

"You promised not to leave me," she told him, though the edge in her voice
had fled.

"I know, I just . . . when Dad started yelling I felt as if the walls were closing
in on me and Mom was so upset. I just . . . I just couldn't take the looks on
their faces, the disapproval and the anger."

"It was probably knee jerk reaction," Doyle jumped in. "I don't mean to
interrupt this moment here. Just trying to help. Hey Xander, want to show
me your bedroom?"

"I, uh—"

"Let's go! I want to see just how deep your closet really is."

Despite themselves, the couple could not help but start to giggle at that.

"Spike, we can't run away from this or hide. It makes it look as if we did
something wrong and we haven't."

"Buffy," Spike started, pulling away from her. "Maybe we should lay low for
a while. Xander's gonna let me stay here and –"

"Lay low?"

"I think it might be best I not come around the house for a little while."

"Hold on a second here. How long is a little while? TYou drop a can of
worms like that and expect me to pick up the pieces for you? No, that's not
how this works," she shook her head, her anger coming back in full force,
coupled with frustration.

"Stay at Doyle's for a few days and we'll come up with a plan—"

"What you mean is, I'll come up with the plan and you'll just bail on me
again when it gets rough again," Buffy snapped.

"I've already got a plan somewhat."

"Oh?"

"I'm going to move out. WE'RE going to move out. Together."

"Spike, I'm all for that, but not as a way to—"

"And maybe we can just move to a different city. Travel. You wanted to
drive cross country with me, maybe now's the time to do it."

"I'm in school and you have a job—"

"Jobs are a dime a dozen and we can find a place for you to finish school."

Buffy stared at him, hurt and angry. She shook her head. "No, I refuse."

"Why? It'll be fun. We'll be together."

"I'm your dirty secret. You want to run away like you did before. You want
to hide. Remember how well it turned out last night you did that? It got
worse, didn't it? You ended with Dru. I'm not going to be your dirty secret
and I'm not going to allow you to run away."

"Buffy, you're not my dirty secret—"

"Yes, I am. You're treating me like one! Despite everything we've been
through, you are letting them win. You STILL think this is wrong. You
agree with them and you agree with Dru. I'm not going to live like that. I
love you Spike and all I want is to be free to be with you. Out in the open
with no guilt. Well, fine. I'm done being your dirty little secret, Spike. I
obviously make you feel ‘dirty' and ‘wrong', so I'll just put an end to it now."

He reached for her as she backed away. "Buffy—"

"DOYLE! I'm leaving."

"Buffy—" he reached for her again just as Doyle came rushing around the
corner for her.

"Take me out of here, please," she said to Doyle softly and turned away
from Spike.

"Buffy, please, don't go," Spike begged her.

"You want to lay low for tonight, that's fine. But tell me we'll go see Mom
and Giles tomorrow and I'll stay. Tell me we're not going to run away and
I'll stay."

He didn't say a word and Buffy's heart broke. Doyle took her hand and led
her away from Spike and out the door while Buffy prayed that she didn't
cry before she walked out the door.

"Buffy, honey, what happened?"

"It's over Doyle, it's all over."

Chapter Twenty-eight

"Buffy, do you think it's possible this is one of those shoot first, apologize later moments?" Doyle asked when they had returned to his home.

Without looking at him from her spot on his bed, and instead focusing on
the ceiling, she said "For?"

"Both of you."

"In regards to our parents?" she asked.

"That and his wanting to leave. You in turn leaving him with an
ultimatum."

"I didn't leave him with an ultimatum—"she paused, "Okay, maybe I did. I
was hoping . . . I was just hoping."

"That he'd come after you and tell you he was ready to go in there and face
the firing sqaud that are your parents right now?"

"Yes."

"He's scared Buffy. He's lived with this for years, thinking it's wrong and he
was dirty. Weren't you the one who told me how Giles trumped up the
whole family thing to him? And then there was Dru—"

"All right! I get it!" Buffy sat up and exclaimed. "I'm wrong. I was too hard
on him, I expected more than he could give. I'm a horrible girlfriend and I
probably set him back rather than trying to push him forward. I should just
be docile and passive!"

Doyle stared at her. "I didn't say that."

She glared at him, "I suppose now you'll say that I'm projecting right?"

"I think you just said it."

"Listen, maybe I was too hard on him, but . . Goddammit Doyle he wanted
to run away. Again!"

"I know. And I think you are right. Running away is not the answer. But I
think with Spike that too was a knee jerk reaction. I also think that it does
look as if he is keeping your relationship a secret because he's still in that
place of thinking it's wrong. You can't just uncondition years of conditioning
in the span of a few weeks."

"So I have to wait years now for him to be okay with it?"

"To uncondition him? Maybe. For him to be okay with it and in a place
where he won't feel the need to run? I think it'll take parental approval."

"And if they never give it?"

"Then Spike has to get to a place where he feels comfortable in his own
skin. It doesn't have to take years to get him to that place, Buffy. He has no
confidence in himself right now. He wants to be a good man and I truly
believe that he does love with everything he is. He's just . . . lost. He needs
to find himself."

"And what do I do in the meantime?"

"I think what you both need is some space right now. You're hurt and
angry, he's hurt and feeling lost. Your parents are in shock and it made
them react horribly. All of you have all these emotions inside you and
trying to reach out and grab onto something to get through it, but none of
you are sure HOW to get through it yet. You all need some time to collect
yourselves and take a step back. All of you need to gain your footing. Ever

hear of fight or flight?"

"Yes."

"Your reaction was to fight; Spike's reaction was flight. Your parents just. . .
reacted. Hopefully, and I mean HOPEFULLY, given some time, they'll talk
about this calmly instead of flinging accusations."

"So I wasn't horribly wrong about being so hard on him?" she asked
meekly.

"No, honey, you weren't horribly wrong. It was human. You have a leg to
stand on in this case. He did need to know that he was making you feel as if
you were his dirty secret. He needed to see that running away is not the
thing to do."

"So I gave him ‘tough love'?"

"Yes."

She sighed heavily. "I feel guilty."

"I know."

"I pushed him to tell and then I didn't want him to."

"It's okay to have a change of heart Buffy."

"I just saw him start to have confidence in himself, in us, and I thought
maybe if he had just a little bit more time, he'd be able to handle it that
much better. I was wrong in wanting to push him right away." She draped
an arm across her eyes.

"You weren't wrong. You were anxious. Stop beating yourself up," Doyle
reprimanded her.

"If I'm beating myself up and I know it's not wrong for us to be together,
what is Spike doing to himself right now?" Buffy questioned worriedly.



^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Spike sat huddled on the floor of Xander's guest bedroom, rocking back and forth. His tears were still wet on his face, but no more leaked from his eyes. All he kept thinking was ‘Buffy left me'.

Xander came in and sat down on the bed. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

"Do you still want to take off?"

Spike looked up at him, anger filling him quickly. "Do you want me to leave
you in peace? Am I crimping your style here? Afraid I might find out you're
gay?"

Xander turned red in the face and stood, towering over Spike. "What the
fuck, man? That wasn't cool. You know, my life was pretty normal until you
brought your incestual ass in it. So why don't you—"

Spike jumped up from where he sat, hauled off and decked Xander,
knocking him to the floor.

"It's NOT incest!" Spike roared at him.

Xander looked up at him, eyes narrowing. "Get the fuck out."

"Happy to."

"You better be at work tomorrow," Xander snapped.

Without a word, Spike walked out the door. Now where?



^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Spike couldn't sleep. All he could do was stare off into space. He itched and ached to call Buffy. The hotel room was comfortable enough, but musty and he didn't really want to wager a guess as to if it had actually been given a thorough cleaning. He closed his eyes and pictured Buffy's face. The way she looked when Joyce started wringing her hands and Giles started throwing accusations.

The way she'd stood in front of him and yelled at Giles to leave him alone.

His eyes welled up in tears. No, he wasn't going to think of that. That wasn't
going to keep him warm right then.

Instead, he thought about how she felt in his arms. How she tasted and
moaned. How she called his name and the sound of her laugh. Happy
thoughts of her had sustained him through one dark time in his life. Now,
he had more to sustain him through.

Spike rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

He had to get her back.

Chapter Twenty nine

"Oh Spike, I'm so sorry that happened," Tara said sympathetically and reached out to hold his hand. She squeezed it. "That was unfair treatment and I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"How do I fix it?" Spike asked, pleading in his tone.

"I think giving it time to settle with your parents—"

"Not with them. With Buffy."

Tara sighed. "I think the same goes for her. A lot of hurt feelings and anger
has been passed around. From what you've told me of Buffy, I don't believe
you've lost her Spike. Your first priority is righting things inside yourself.
Once that is done, everything else will fall into place. Did you believe it was
the right time to tell them when you did?"

"Buffy asked me the same thing just before," he murmured. He shook his
head to clear it, "I thought it was what she wanted."

"Did you want to do it for her?"

"I . . . I think part of me did, yes."

"Sometimes after a session, there's a high when there's a breakthrough.
You had a breakthrough, Spike. However, a breakthrough does not mean
all is cured and that you can slay every demon and dragon that comes
along. You have to build your strength up still. Having a breakthrough is
like a toddler taking its first step. It's a start, but it still takes practice and
more steps before you're actually walking."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Spike exclaimed, jumping up from his
spot. "I've lost everything now. My family, my Buffy—"

Tara shook her head, "You haven't lost anything Spike. You're hurt and
you're scared, but you haven't lost anything. Things can be put back
together."

"How?" he asked mournfully. "My parents hate me right now. They think
I'm… they think I'm disgusting."

"They were stunned."

"So I fucked up—"

"You did NOT fuck up. Mistakes happen. It's the way you deal with it after
that makes up for it. Your first step is to stop blaming yourself for everything that happens. You are not in control of their reaction to you and Buffy. THEY are in control of it. They responded poorly, Spike, and that is not a reflection on you. They owe you an apology for it.
What happened with you and Xander was a breakthrough Spike and I don't think you're even aware of it."

He blinked at her, "What? Slugging him was a breakthrough?"

Tara chuckled, "Yes, it was. Of sorts. He attacked you. He attacked your relationship with Buffy, the same way your parents did. However, instead of letting him attack you and make you feel that it was wrong and that you were dirty, you slugged him. You told him quite firmly that it was NOT incest."

"Are you saying I should go home and slug my father?"

Tara shook her head and smiled, "No. But you should talk to them with that same mindset that you had with Xander. You do know that it is not wrong, but you let them dictate to you how you should feel about it. They think it's wrong, therefore, they superimpose it on you that it is and you let them, thereby turning your love for Buffy into something dirty and wrong, ergo, you feel guilty.
You know in your heart that what you have with Buffy is special. Yet you let others dictate to you that it is wrong. Drusilla preyed on your insecurity and led you to believe that you were responsible for her sickness. You were not."

"I was the catalyst. She loved me and I—"

"Anything could have been the catalyst. She would have found something, Spike. She was sick. I am not condoning what happened for to be in love with one woman and marry another can tear up the soul and is unfair for both parties involved. I am saying that I UNDERSTAND why you did it."

"Did I handle that mistake correctly?" Spike asked softly.

"Yes. You got her the help she needed. And now you are. I believe that love is a strength. It takes great courage to love so thoroughly. You have to stop making love your weakness, and instead make it your strength.
I'm not just talking about Buffy here, Spike. I'm talking about you. Once you learn to start loving yourself and getting rid of those destructive thought patters you've gotten into, you'll be able to stop blaming yourself for how the world around you reacts to your choices. Right now you let others dictate to you what is right and what is wrong even though you are fully aware of what is right and what is wrong.
Instead of thinking your father is right about your love for Buffy being wrong, and how Drusilla had every right to play head games with you, you'll see that instead you should be taking the stand similar to the one you took with Xander. You should be angry. I'm not talking about being angry at every person that disagrees with you or letting anger infest itself inside you, letting it take you over so that all you feel is that anger for your father or Drusilla, or whomever else comes around. I'm talking about a healthy dose of anger. The kind of anger that lets you know you've been wronged. Once you understand it and know how to work with it constructively, you'll be able to stop turning it into yourself and instead stand up for yourself."

Spike sat down across from Tara, leaning close. "I did feel so much anger at Xander . . . and I knew he was just angry with me and lashing out, but it made me so angry to hear him say that about me and Buffy. And I knew what he was saying wasn't true. It's not incest. Incest is wrong and it is dirty, but what I feel for Buffy is not like that at all."

Tara nodded, "That was a good first step. I don't condone violence and from I hear about Xander, perhaps he's got some of his own anger turned inwards that he's dealing with which is why he lashed out so poorly to you.
You will have to talk to your parents sooner or later. The key is in how you approach them —with Buffy at your side."

"How do I do it? I don't even know where to start."

"Yes, you do."

Spike fell into thoughtful silence for a long time and when he spoke it was with conviction he hadn't come in with. "Yes, you're right. I do. Would you help me with it?"

"Of course."

***************************************************************
Buffy was pacing outside Tara's building, waiting for Spike to emerge. She'd gone to his work site and Xander had told he'd left early for a doctor's appointment. When she'd noticed the black eye he was sporting, she'd asked him what had happened. Xander shook his head and simply said, "We were both out of line." That concerned her, but Xander was not about to delve into it. She had to assume that he was the one that had suffered the brunt of them both being ‘out of line'.

She'd taken the day off from classes and instead had gone home to collect some of hers and Spike's things, making sure her parents were gone first. She wasn't sure how long he was planning on staying away, but she did know he needed some things. She had wondered if it was presumptuous of her to pack his things as she did, but she also felt guilt for the way she'd attacked him the night before. She wanted him to know that if he needed time away, she understood as she was taking some time too. Doyle had been completely fine about her staying a few days with him and while part of her felt that she was running away, she also knew that when she faced her parents next, she wanted Spike by her side to do it. They had to be a team.

"Buffy?"

She spun to see Spike standing there, staring at her a bit disoriented. Her eyes prickled with tears, and she wanted to run to him; however she was unsure if he wanted her to.

"H—hi," she said finally.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I went to your work site. Xander told me you had a doctor's appointment.
I wagered a guess until I saw your car in the parking lot."

He moved closer to her. "What are you doing here?"

"I um, I came down here for a couple reasons. One was to bring you some
of your stuff," she gestured towards a nearby bench in which she had a
green duffel back packed full of his things. Next to it was a baby blue duffel
bag, which was hers.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I figured you didn't want to come home for a little while to, you
know, get your head on straight and stuff," she explained, fidgeting.

"And you're condoning that?" he asked, slightly bitter.

That surprised her, but she nodded, "Yes. That was the other reason why
I came down here."

"To tell me that you give me your blessing for wanting to lay low?" More
bitterness.

That got her back up and she narrowed her eyes. "Listen, there's a big
difference between running away and laying low for a while. You were
ready to run last night, so fuck you. All I came down here to do was give
you some of your stuff and let you know that I was sorry for yelling at you
the way I did last night. I still don't think running away is the key, but I
understand why you wanted to do that. That's all I wanted to do, and now
I'll be out of your hair," and she started for her own bag.

Spike grabbed her arm and brought her back to him. "Buffy, wait."

"What?" she said, pursing her lips together.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you like that. You were right last night. Running
away wasn't the best way to deal with things. Your reaction was to fight,
mine was to flee."

She blinked, thinking of what Doyle had said.

"I don't want to run away any longer. That feeling passed. It was just . . .
When Mom and Dad started yelling, I shut down inside. I shouldn't have
left you to deal with them the way I did—"

"No, but I get it, okay? I don't have to like it, but I get it"

"I know you do, Buffy," he whispered and kissed her forehead.

"And I shouldn't have pushed you before to tell them. You were right in
waiting and then when you were ready, I wanted you to wait. That wasn't
fair of me either. I just . . . I just saw a change in you while you were going
to therapy and I realized that you were right in wanting to wait and last
night I thought if we waited just a bit longer, you'd be completely strong.
I was angry with you last night because you wanted to run and then I left
you instead of staying and fighting—"

"Buffy, stop. Look, last night was . . . it was a mess. We were all flying high
on a bunch of emotion. None of us were thinking clearly and everything
came out wrong."

She smiled weakly, "Listen to you."

"What?"

"You sound so wise."

"Do I?"

She nodded and her eyes welled up. "I'm sorry."

Spike brought her closer and wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair. "Ssshhh….it's okay. It's over. We just gotta work from here."

She held him tightly. "I told you I was new at this," she cried against him.

"I know, baby. So am I. You were right, we have to stick together you and I. Can we do that from now on, Buffy? Give me another chance?"

She nodded and looked up at him. "I'll try not to be such a bitch."

He chuckled, "Yeah right. That's like asking the sun not to shine."

She swatted him lightly, "Jerk," but she laughed a little.

"Is that your bag over there next to mine?"

She nodded, "I was planning on going to Doyle's. You were right about needing some time and I just don't feel right going to face Mom and Giles without you."

"How bout you come with me instead of going to Doyle's?"

"To Xander's?"

"I left Xander's last night. I'm staying at a hotel."

She squinted at him, "You leave Xander because you hit him?"

He looked at her sheepishly, "He tell you?"

"He just said that you guys got out of line."

"Yeah, I suppose we did."

"What happened?"

When Spike told her what happened, Buffy's jaw dropped. "See! Now you
just need to do that to Mom and Giles!" she exclaimed.

Spike laughed, "You want me to slug them?"

She broke out in giggles, "Well, no, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, baby, I know. So what do you say? Will you come with me?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yes. Spike?"

"Yes, kitten?"

"I love you."

He leaned in and kissed her fervently, "I know, kitten, and I love you too.
Let's go."

Chapter Thirty

"So you left a note for them then?" Spike asked, pressing a kiss to Buffy's shoulder. They lay in the dark in Spike's hotel room, Buffy's back against his front and his strong arm pulling her possessively against him.

She nodded, "And Doyle knows we're, plus they have my cell if they need me. Or, you know, us."

"They really did take it badly huh?" Spike mused lightly.

She giggled at his understatement. "Just a little."

"What happened after I left?"

"I yelled at them. I told them that if anything happened to you, it'd be
their fault."

"My girl defending me," Spike murmured against her skin.

She placed her arm on top of his, "Of course. I'm just so . . . ANGRY.
Aren't you?"

"Yes and no. I know the reasons why I should be mad, but . . . I was mad
at myself for the same reasons. I expected that reaction, it's just that when
I imagined it, it wasn't really happening. When they were right in front of
me . . . I went cold."

Buffy moved out of his arms with a sound of protest from Spike, and sat up
against the headboard. Spike sat up across from her. "What?"

"I'm not going to tell you how you should feel. I think too many people
have been doing that and have done that to you."

"You had to move out of my arms to tell me that?" he grinned at her.

"Yes. Because this is serious. Drusilla made you into her puppet and she
was your puppet master because she preyed on your love for me and your
guilt over it. Mom and Giles . . . I guess they still see you as the bad ass you were before. Especially Giles and . . . it pisses me off FOR you that he was
so harsh and mean to you. They didn't give us a chance to explain, they just
attacked. Then I attacked you—"

"Buffy—"

"Let me finish please?"

He nodded.

"I attacked you and put demands on you and told you that how you were
feeling was wrong and . . . it was normal. Human. I wasn't understanding to
what you were going through because I was so upset I couldn't see
anything beyond my own anger and hurt."

"We've been over this. It was human for both of us to have reacted that
way."

"I know, but. . . Spike, we're going to argue, we're going to disagree, I'm not
going to ever like when you disagree with me and you probably won't like it
when I disagree with you, but I don't ever want to control you. I don't want
to be a…saner version of Drusilla. I don't want you to by my puppet, and I
don't want to be your puppet master."

He smiled, and rolled to his knees, leaning in to kiss her. "I know that
already kitten. Thank you."

"I idolized you when were kids because you knew yourself. You did what
you wanted to do and you followed the beat of your own drummer. I
admired that. I wanted to be like that."

"You are," he whispered against her lips, cupping the side of her face with
his hand.

"You've lost some of that since then and . . . I just want to help you get it
back. I want some of that bad ass back to fight Mom and Giles. I think he
came out a little last night with Xander."

Spike chuckled, "I didn't think of it that way, but I guess he did."

"I'm glad you're seeing someone and gaining confidence in yourself again."

"Buffy," Spike breathed, sitting back on his rump and dragging her into his
arms so that she sat across his lap. "I love you so much. I'm so lucky to
have you in my life. How did I get so lucky?"

She smiled and kissed him sweetly. "You must have done something REALLY good in a past life."

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

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Xander asked the following day, coming
up to Spike as he was nailing some boards together.

Spike stopped and stared at him. "Sure."

"Let's go in the trailer," Xander said and Spike followed him, wondering if
he was about to get fired. Xander's eye had bubbled up to a nice purple, and
the edges were starting to slightly fade to yellow. He made it clear to
everyone on the site he didn't want to be asked about it and so far no one
had.

Spike closed the door behind him and braced himself. He watched as
Xander took a couple water bottles out of the fridge and tossed one to him.

Spike caught it and opened it, guzzling the cool liquid thinking about how
he was going to be able to pay for the hotel if he got canned. Buffy had given
him money toward it, but he didn't want to have to rely on his girl to –

"Spike, I was out of line the other night and I'm sorry," Xander said
finally.

Spike stared at him, stunned.

"I know that Buffy isn't really your sister and that while it's a little odd, it's
not incest. I'd like to think I can admit when I'm wrong and I was wrong."

"I was out of line too," Spike finally said. "I shouldn't have made those
comments about you being gay. Especially if you're not, I understand –"

"I am," Xander whispered.

"Come again?" Spike said, thinking Doyle was GOOD.

"I am gay. I just . . . Look, can we not make it a big deal? I'm not quite
comfortable with it yet." Xander looked as if he wanted the earth to open
and swallow him whole.

Spike nodded, "I get it. I understand. Have you ever---?"

"Dated a guy? No."

"Is there anyone you're interested in at all?" Spike asked, thinking of
Doyle. One good turn deserved another.

Xander turned bright red. "Well, yeah."

"Doyle?"

Xander turned even redder and he stared at the floor.

"I got it, mate. You don't have to say anything. But can I tell you that if you
were into, you know, getting set up, I can tell you that you're golden."

Xander's head shot up. "Really?"

"Oh yeah."

Xander smiled and then shook his head. He cleared his throat. "All right,
before we open a carton of ice cream and start sharing our feelings, let's get
back to work."

Spike laughed. "Sure thing, boss."

"Before we do . . . How are things with Buffy? Did you guys make up?"

"We did, thanks for asking."

"And the parents?"

Spike sighed, "Not made up."

"They'll come around," Xander said with such conviction that Spike almost
believed him.

"I hope you're right."


************************************************************
Buffy crawled through her bedroom window intent on just grabbing the book she'd left behind for class and then taking off to wait for Spike at their hotel room. Her heart was racing at the prospect of running into her parents.

She had her finger around her book when her mother's voice startled her
into a yelp.

"I really should have gotten that window nailed shut when you were in
high school."

"Mom! You scared the crap out of me!" Buffy exclaimed, whirling around
to face her mother who stood in the doorway, looking actually very calm.

"Well, serves you right for sneaking in the house."

Buffy shrugged. "Just came to get my book and I'll be gone," and she
picked up the book.

"Buffy, wait."

Buffy paused, setting the book back down. "What?"

Joyce came closer, looking worried. "Is William all right?"

"You mean after you denounced him in the kitchen?"

Joyce closed her eyes, "Buffy—"

"After Giles made him feel like a fucking pedophile?"

"Buffy, your language!"

"I don't care! You made him feel like shit, Mom. He was so upset . . . God,
do you know how afraid he was to tell you guys in the first place? You have
no idea what he's been through. You made his worst fear come to light."

"Where is he now?" Joyce asked, her voice trembling.

Buffy hesitated. To tell or not to tell? What the hell, if she didn't tell them,
they'd never wrap their minds around it and get used to it. "We're staying
at a hotel."

"Together?"

"Yes. Get used to it, Mom. I love him and I'm staying with him."

Joyce nodded and moved to her bed, sitting down on it. "Buffy, I'm not
upset. Not anymore. I'm . . . stunned. But I'm not upset with William. Or
you. I love you both—"

"You had a funny way of showing it. You treated him like a red headed
step child."

Joyce sighed. "It was a shock. Still is. I mean, I admit, I thought about it
once or twice."

Buffy's jaw dropped. "No way."

Joyce smiled wanly, "Yeah, just a thought that passed through my mind a
few times. You guys spent so much time together before William moved
away. He always seemed to prefer spending time with you than any of his
girlfriends. And you were always so uninterested in boys, but doted on
William. . . I guess I thought that together you two would make a perfect
couple. You always had so much fun together, laughing all the time,
bantering back and forth . . . I told myself it was wrong to think that and to
ever encourage it would be akin advocating incest." Joyce sighed heavily
and shook her head. "I reacted poorly. All I saw was ‘brother' and ‘sister'. I
forgot about how right it used to seem to me and focused only on that. It's
hard, you know. I've always thought of William as the son I never had. The
lines got blurred enough that it was easy to forget that we're not all blood
and that we haven't been together forever."

Buffy relaxed and perched her bottom on the edge of her desk. "And
Giles?"

Joyce sighed, "He's bull headed and stubborn. It's a Giles trait."

"Not just a Giles trait," Buffy grinned.

Joyce smiled, really smiled, for the first time. "Yes, us Summers women
can be quite thick headed too, can't we?"

"Definitely. It's one of the things Spike loves most about me. The weirdo."

Joyce chuckled. "I remember him being the same way."

Buffy's smile faded a bit. "Yeah, but Mom. . . a lot has happened that you
don't know about. It's not my place to tell you either, it's Spike's. I can just
tell you that what happened here the other night was bad for him. He was
ready to take off again and . . . Mom, I really love him," Buffy said, welling
up in tears at the thought of any distance between her and Spike happening
again.

Joyce gazed at her in earnest. "I can see that you really do, Buffy. I'm so
glad."

"Are you? Really?"

Joyce stood and held out her arms. Buffy stepped into them immediately.
"William is a good man. I know what Drusilla did to him was horrible and it
sounds to me there's missing pieces that I don't know about. Am I right?"

Buffy nodded, wiping her tears on her mother's sweater.

"I've always known that William had a huge heart and that when he loved,
it would be with his whole self. I also knew that when he loved it would be
with one woman for eternity," Joyce pulled back just enough to brush
Buffy's tears away. "And he's found that woman in you, hasn't he?"

"He better have or I'll kick his ass."

"I'm not going to lie to you Buffy and tell you that parts of me still find it . .
. I don't want to say wrong, but maybe ‘weird' is a better word for it.
However, I know that in reality you are not blood related, you're close in
age and you've always had a special relationship. There's always been a
spark there. But I'm not going to condemn you or William for loving each
other. I'd rather it be William that you love than some . . . punk off the
street. He's one of a kind, Buffy. I always knew it would take someone truly
one of a kind to turn your head."

"Thank you Mommy," Buffy whispered. "And what about Giles?"

"Don't you worry about Giles. I'll take care of Giles. That stubborn
Summers trait, remember?" she smiled and pushed some hair away from
Buffy's face.

Buffy nodded, "Just . . . Mom, if Giles is going to talk to Spike, please don't
let him attack him. I don't want to see Spike hurt anymore than he has
been."

"Could I see him? I just want to let him know it's okay and that I don't hate
him."

"I think that's a great idea, Mom, but can I talk to him first? I don't want
to make the decision for him."

Joyce nodded and smiled. "You've grown up so much."

"I have?"

Joyce nodded.

"I'm petrified, Mom," Buffy admitted. "I've never been in love before and
God, it's scary as hell."

"It is, isn't it?"

Buffy nodded, "I've never given my heart to someone before. . . never put
my faith in someone else to not break it."

"He won't, Buffy. Not on purpose. I know it."

"I know. Sometimes I worry about me. I admit it, I can be an uber bitch."

Joyce laughed, then sobered. "I can see it Buffy. I can see it in you. I saw it
when you were defending him the other night. You won't hurt him. You'll
protect him and love with your whole being too."

"I really wanted to be able to talk to you about all this Mom," Buffy
admitted.

"Do have class right now? Need to meet William soon?"

Buffy shook her head. "I'm done with classes and he's not out of work for
another hour or so."

"Giles is working late tonight. How about you and I go out and get some
dinner? Then we can get a take out and you can bring it to William. Sound
good?"

Buffy nodded, "Perfect."

"Now you can tell me all about William. It's not everyday you fall in love. I
want to hear all about it," Joyce said and wrapped an arm around Buffy's
waist, walking her down the stairs.

Chapter Thirty One

“Honey, I’m home!” Buffy announced as she swung open the door to the hotel room and placed the take out carton on the table in the room.

Spike came waltzing out of the bathroom, steam following
him. Buffy gaped at him. The man wore nothing but a towel
wrapped lightly around his waist. She gulped at the sight of
him. All his perfectly sculpted glory right there before here.
And damp to boot.

“Now I know how women feel when men only
stare at their breasts,” Spike drawled.

Her eyes snapped up to his face and she felt a
blush rise immediately.

He smirked at her. “Like what you see pet?”

She smiled broadly and couldn’t help herself
from waltzing up to him sliding her hands from his belly up to
his chest and then finishing with wrapping her arms around
him. He shuddered as his arms clasped around her and he
kissed her hungrily.

“Can you be like this everytime I come home?”
she asked, when they broke for air, grinning up at him.

He grinned and kissed her again.

“I brought you food,” she said between kisses.

“I can think of something to eat that doesn’t
involve letting you out of my arms,” Spike murmured, licking
her neck.

She sighed happily. “I could feed you.”

His head shot up. “Get in that bed now.”

She giggled, “Not yet. I want to talk to you first.
And feed you real food.”

He grumbled at her and went to put on his
sweatpants before joining her at the table. He sat down and
his mouth watered when the scent of the food assailed his
nose. His stomach rumbled in response and Buffy smirked
knowingly at him before plopping herself next to him. She
opened the carton to reveal mashed potatoes covered in
gravy, sweet potatoes with brown sugar and a chicken
breast with a corn muffin.

“Damn, but that looks good,” Spike said.

“Doesn’t it? It was good. I had the same thing.”
Buffy stuck the plastic fork in the sweet potatoes and held it
up to his mouth. Spike dutifully opened and he nodded
encouragingly.

She smiled at how cute he looked, like a little
boy. Albeit a sexy boy.

“Did you go out with Doyle?” Spike asked
around a mouthful of food.

“Nope,” she took a deep breath and gathered
some chicken on the fork and then dipped it into the mashed
potatoes and gravy. She fed him a forkful and then said, “I
had dinner with Mom.”

Spike’s eyes widened and he stopped
chewing. “With mom?”

She tilted her head to the side. “Some might think
talking with your mouth full is gross, but not me. It’s almost like
art.”

He gave her a look and swallowed, “You had
dinner with Mom? Our mother?”

“No, my adoptive mother.”

“Smart ass.”

“I prefer ‘intelligent rear end’,” she said haughtily
and forked more food in his mouth.

He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before
speaking. “So . . .she’s okay?”

“After I put the smack down, of course she
was.”

“Buffy!”

She shrugged non-chalantly and Spike shook
his head, grabbing the fork from her. “What happened? What
did she say? Did you go to see her?”

“I went home to get a book I’d forgotten after
class and snuck in my window—“

“Of course you did,” he said dryly.

“Shut up. I seem to recall that trick coming in
very handy a few times over the past few weeks.”

He grinned, “Yeah, it really has.” Then he
sobered, “Continue.”

Buffy told him about the conversation, leaving
out the bits about how frightened she was about being in
love for the first time. It would do no good; it happened every
day she imagined. All she could do was what Joyce had
suggested. Love him and hold on tight. As if she had any
choice in the matter. Her heart would be in tatters if she ever
left him.

“She really wants to see me?” Spike asked,
sounding like a lost child.

Buffy nodded, “She really does. Do you want to
see her?”

Spike nodded profusely, his eyes welling up. “I
do.”

“Maybe after dinner we could call her?”

He nodded, “I’ll do it.”

Getting up from where she was sitting, she
climbed onto Spike’s lap and wrapped her arms around
him. “Did I tell you that I love you today?” she asked.

He shook his head, grinning, “Not since this
morning.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Buffy. Oh, and have I got some
things to tell you about Xander!”



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



Later that evening after dinner, Spike had called
Joyce and after a brief conversation in which they made
plans to get an ice cream downtown, and Buffy made plans
to hang out with Doyle.

“So,” Doyle started proudly as they walked the
streets of Sunnydale, “Seems I was right on all accounts.”

Buffy rolled her eyes.

“The parental units are coming around AND Mr.
Harris wants me.”

“In all fairness, you didn’t guess that Xander
wanted you, you just said he was gay.”

“Whatever, semantics,” he said, waving his
hand.

“So I’m thinking you could stop by with me
tomorrow—“

“Uh, NO Buffy,” Doyle said snottily. “He’ll KNOW,
and that would be BAD.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake!”

“I’ll lay low, give it a few days, and then plant
the seed.”

“No pun intended?”

Doyle grinned, “ALL puns intended.”

“Doyle—“

“Uh oh.”

“What?”

“Whenever you say my name in that high
pitched questioning tone, I can tell you’re about to ask me
something serious. Or dirty with two r’s.” He grinned at her
and she hit him playfully.

“I’m serious.”

“Then so am I,” and his grin dropped. He looked
as he were going to a funeral.

“Doyle!” she exclaimed and he grinned again.

“What is it? Tell me. Enquiring minds want to
know.”

“Do you think it’s too soon for me to jump
Spike?” she blurted out.

“You haven’t--?”

“Don’t you think I would have told you?”

“I thought you were giving modesty a shot.”

“Please,” and she waved him off.

“Should have known better, my bad. I’m thinking
that since you’re wanting to jump him, it’s not too soon.
Before you didn’t want to go near it.”

Buffy nodded, “For him though is it too soon?”

“Buffy, I’m not the one you should be asking.”

“You’re right, I guess I’m just nervous. It’s just
that I want him and it’s not because I’m sharing a bed with him
every night—“

“Wait. I need a minute just to get that image of
lying next to Spike every night.”

She hit him again. “He’s MY boyfriend.”

He shook his head, putting her on, “Okay, sorry,
continue.”

“I want him because I love him. I want to be with
him. Carnally.”

Doyle laughed. “And I think you should say it to
him just like that. It’s hot.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Listen, if you’re ready to
have sex with Spike, then I think you should just tell him
you’re ready and see what he says. I can’t tell you what he
thinks or what he wants. If he doesn’t feel ready, then he’ll
tell you. He’s getting better at expressing himself isn’t he?”

“Much. It’s a day by day thing.”

“Then talk it out. He loves you Buffy and you
love him. You guys have been through a lot already and I
can’t imagine not being able to tell him you want to have sex
with him. I mean, yeah, it’s a little scary, but this is the man
you want forever right?”

“Definitely.”

“Then tell him you want to have sex. Just do me
one favor.”

“What?”

“Give me ALL the details. About him. Not you.”

“Perv.”

Chapter Thirty-two

Spike hadn't arrived ‘home' by the time Buffy arrived so she drew herself a bath and mulled over her conversation with Doyle.

"Spike, I want you," she said to the tub, "No," she said shaking her head,
"WILLIAM, I want you." She shook her head again. "How about we take
‘want' out if it? Ooh ooh, I know. Maybe, Spike—no, WILLIAM, I want to
make love to you." She leaned back in the tub, smiling to herself proudly.
Then she sighed, "Yeah, Buffy, of course it's easy to tell a friggen bath tub."

An hour later, Spike still wasn't back and Buffy was finding it hard to keep
her eyes open. Her eyes had just closed when the door opened and in came
Spike. He looked down at her. "Sleeping, kitten?"

She shook her head, "No," she said, but a yawn escaped and betrayed her.
"Okay, I had just shut my eyes."

"I'm sorry, baby," he cooed and stripped off his jacket. He kicked off his
shoes and came in to lie next to her. "You can go back to sleep if you want."

"No, I want to know how it went with Mom," she said and put her head on
his chest, wrapping an arm around his middle.

"It went great," he let out a deep breath. "It feels like a huge weight has
been lifted. I told her everything. I told her about when I started to have
feelings and why I left. I told her about Dru and about coming home."

Buffy tightened her hold on him. "And she took it well?"

"She cried. A lot. You know how she is."

"Well, Spike, these were serious things you told her. I mean, a large part of
your life was kept from her and it was hell. She loves you and she wasn't
able to help you through it all, so of course she was upset."

"I know, I just get . . . I guess I just feel weird about it. I don't want anyone
to feel pity for me or to cry for me. It makes me uncomfortable."

"We cry because we hate to see someone we love in pain. We don't like to
see them have been hurt. When you hurt, I hurt. It's the same for Mom,
but I'm guessing different. Am I making sense?"

"Perfect," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "She's going to talk
to Dad. I told her that if when he's ready to talk, he can come to me."

"You said that?"

"Why? Should I not have?"

"No, I think that's perfect!" Buffy said and sat up. He sat up next to her.
"He SHOULD come to you. You shouldn't have to go to him like some
errant child. He was the errant child, not you."

Spike nodded, "I . . . I got angry, Buffy. I was sitting there telling Mom
about all this stuff with Dru and how hard it was when I got home and it
finally sunk in. I'm not wrong. I'm not sick for loving you . . . God, it's been
the best thing that's happened to me when I allowed myself to let go and
love you. All the stuff that happened with Dru – it was hard and fucked up
and I couldn't tell anyone about it. I FELT like I couldn't.

I come home and things with us happen so fast and it's great and I'm
getting help and . . . I try to tell them and it blows up in my face. I got
attacked. He didn't even listen before he started blaming me. It was like I
was a teenager all over again." He shook his head. "And I got angry and
thought – he has no clue what the truth is because he didn't ASK. He's still
mad and he's STILL not asking."

"Did you say any of that to Mom?"

"I did and you know what? It felt GOOD."

"She cry again?"

He nodded. "She did. Apologized again, too."

"So, will Tara be putting away Dru issues and focusing on Daddy issues
now?"

Spike chuckled and drew her against him. "I always laugh when I'm with
you, Buffy. I never laughed with Dru."

Buffy wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. "I like it when you
laugh. It's a good look on you."

"Thanks."

Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, Buffy's heart pounded in her chest.
"Spike—"

"You tired, luv? Want to go back to sleep? I can change and—"

"Spike, I want to make love to you," she blurted out and squeezed her eyes
shut, balling his shirt under her fingers into her fists and burying her head
in his chest. She felt him freeze and tensed, waiting for the fall out.

Then he relaxed against her, but she was too far gone to notice until he
spoke. "Buffy? What are you doing?"

"Bracing myself."

"For?"

She opened her eyes and loosened her grip. "You know, I'm not really sure.
Rejection?"

She was on her back so fast with Spike on top of her that if she'd blinked
she'd have missed it. "Like I'd reject you," he said huskily, gazing at her
hotly. "Have you been paying attention at all these past few weeks?" And
he kissed her hard, passionately.

"You—you want to?" she asked, breaking away.

"What do you think?" he asked and ground his erection against her center.

She trembled, feeling heat spread through every part of her. "Spike, what
about w-waiting and—and I don't want to push you if you're not ready—"

He kissed her softly. "I'm ready Buffy," he whispered. "So much has been
about others these past few weeks and working through stuff. Let's make
tonight about us for a change. Remember when we spent that weekend
together alone?"

She nodded.

"I want that back, but even better. It's no longer a secret, there's nothing
between us anymore. Except for too many clothes maybe," he said and
grinned.

She reached up and kissed him hard.

"Tell me again. Tell me you want me, Buffy."

"I want you, Spike," she whispered, sliding her hands down his back and
tugging on his shirt, wanting to feel his skin.

He moaned, kissing her deeply, splaying his hands on her belly under her
tank. When he pulled away, he found her breathless and flushed with
desire. It was intoxicating. I did that, he thought, and it's not wrong. I love
Buffy and it's not wrong. It's perfect.

"Buffy, look at me, luv," he said huskily, inching his hand up to cup her
breasts.

"Mmm?" She murmured, opening her eyes.

"I love you," he said clearly.

"I love you too."

"It's going to hurt your first time."

"I know, I don't care. I just want you."

He smiled and kissed her sweetly. "That works out well then because I
want you too."

He slid her tank over her head with her help and peppered kisses from her
lips to her ears, down her neck, across her collarbone and nibbled his way
down to her breasts when he suckled one in his mouth, laving the nipple
until it hardened and then paid attention to the other in the same manner.
Buffy lay underneath him, moaning and gyrating her hips against him. He
licked his way down her body and when he got to her pajama bottoms, he
eased them off, taking her panties with them. He kneeled between her legs,
gazing down at her beautiful body on display before.

"God, you're beautiful," he gasped.

"You are. Come here," she said and reached for him.

"Not just yet, baby," and he slid his hands up her thighs and then laid down
on his stomach, facing her juicy quim. Or at least, he thought it was juicy—he glided his tongue along it and gathered up her juice—yep, definitely juicy. His eyes shut in ecstasy and he ground his erection into the mattress, seeing friction, seeking release . . . seeking to be inside her depths.

Soon.

He laved and rolled her clit with his tongue as he carefully stroked her on
the inside, dipping his finger in gently and simulating what his cock would
be doing soon. She came with a hoarse cry of his name, tightening around
his finger as he greedily licked up her spendings, his eyes rolling in the back
of his head at her taste. She careened into another orgasm, and sobbed his
name, reaching for him with "Please" coming from her lips in a flow.

He kissed her hard, licking his tongue across her palette and tangling his
tongue with her own.

She put her hands on the waistband of his jeans and looked up at him and
whimpered, "Please Spike."

"I know what my girl needs," he assured her. "I love you Buffy."

"I love you too," and she surprised him by toppling him and nearly tearing
off his pants. She knelt between his legs and he blinked at her.

"My little tiger cat," he purred at her.

She grinned at him and started stroking him, up, down, up down, lick and suck with her tongue.

"Oh Jesus," Spike gasped, his head lolling back onto the bed. "Buffy, I don't
want to cum in your mouth, baby. In you."

She nodded and he pulled her up to him, rolling her beneath him. He froze
in terror.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Condoms. I don't have any."

"I'm on the pill."

His eyes narrowed. "Why the bloody hell are you on the pill?"

She giggled, "To regulate my periods."

He grinned sheepishly, "Oh, sorry."

"I like it when you get growly. It's sexy," she purred and kissed him.

Sliding his hands between them, he opened her thighs for him, placing
himself between her legs. Kissing her, he glided his cock up and down her

slit, letting her feel him and coating his cock with her juice.

"Ooohh… " she breathed and jerked her hips up to him, "Spike. . . "

"Baby, are you ready? It's going to hurt."

She nodded, "We've been over this. I'm ready. I want you, I want to be
part of you."

"Oh baby, you already are," and he kissed her, gliding his cock inside her
slowly. She gasped against his mouth and tore her mouth from his. Her
eyes were glazed over with lust.

When he hit her barrier, he stilled, gasping as her walls tightened around
him. "So tight, Buffy," he murmured. "Feel so hot. . . so good. God, I can't
believe I'm inside you."

"Spike," she pleaded and he knew what she needed even if she wasn't quite
sure what it meant.

"Hold onto me, Buffy," he ordered her gently and she wrapped her arms
around him. He surged up into her, breaking her barrier and she gasped
again, louder, tears filling her eyes.

"Buffy," he whispered against her lips, "I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry."

"I-I'm okay," and she shifted a bit, eliciting a groan from him. She met his
eyes. "Did that feel good?"

He nodded, unable to form words and she moved again and again.
Surprised eyes flew to his. "It's feeling better."

"Sure?"

She nodded and he started a slow thrusting rhythm, feeling that he wanted
to stay buried inside her forever. She was hot, tight and wet, but it wasn't
just that.

She was Buffy. She was his and he loved her and she loved him.

And it wasn't wrong.

She kissed him languidly, holding onto his biceps as he rocked inside her.
She gazed up at him. "I . . . want . . . more," she murmured. "Spike, please,"
she pleaded with him.

He thrust harder and stilled, waiting for her reaction. She nodded and he
thrust harder again and again, until he could see she was climbing to
orgasm. He was too, his balls were tightening, his breath was coming faster
and while he wanted it, he didn't want it to end. He just wanted her.

"Spike!" she called his name in ecstasy and her walls rippled around his
length as she came and he came a second later, emptying himself inside her
as he roared her name into her neck.

They held onto each other, neither willing to let go. They lay there,
touching, kissing, caressing, murmuring to each other until their lust surged
forth again and they made love languidly, rolling and giggling, kissing and talking.

"Spike?" Buffy whispered as she started to drift off when they were both spent.

"Mmm?"

"I'm glad I waited for you."

He tightened his grip on her. "I love you forever."

Chapter Thirty-three

"Spike?" Buffy said as she came out of the bathroom, naked, a few days later.

Spike looked up from the newspaper he had his nose buried in and
immediately his eyes darkened with lust. "Yeah?"

"I want to look for an apartment," she told him, taking the towel off her
head and letting her golden locks drop to her shoulders in wet tangles.

"Uh-huh," he murmured, watching her in a daze. His cock immediately
stirred to life. She grabbed a comb from the dresser and started to run it
through her hair, with some difficulty.

She looked at him through the mirror, "What do you think?"

He got up slowly and made his way over to her, discarding his t-shirt on
the way. She put the comb down, waiting to see what he was going to do
and recognizing the familiar glint in his eye. He came up behind her and
wrapped his arms around her, cupping her breasts in his hands.

"Did you think I'd be able to concentrate when you're like this?" he
whispered, nudging his erection in the crack of her ass.

Buffy closed her eyes in bliss, feeling her center grow wet with anticipation.
She moaned as he massaged her breasts and teased her nipples to points,
watching her lustfully.

"Watch," he whispered and her eyes fluttered open. His lips suckled on her
neck as one hand made the lazy trail from her breasts, fluttering over her
belly and sinking in between her legs. She spread them just a smidge to
give him more room. When his finger caressed her from the inside and he
pinched her clit, she shuddered in delight.

"Spike, please," she whispered, aching to feel his cock inside her, filling her
up.

Quickly, he shed his sweat pants. "Bend over a little, kitten. . . That's right,
put your hands on the dresser. . . spread just a little bit more. . . .God, yes,"
he moaned as he sank slowly inside her heat. She closed her eyes and threw
her head back in response.

He was gripping her hips as he thrust slowly in and out of her wetness sand
it wasn't enough for her. She opened her eyes and watched him, watched
the pleasure cross his face and watched the pain of holding back with it.

That wouldn't do.

She thrust back at him and tightened her inner muscles, massaging his
cock within her, a trick she'd learned just a few days ago. He grunted and
stilled and then started again.

She shook her head, feeling so very close, she just needed it harder. She
thrust back at him and tightened again.

"Buffy—"

"Do it Spike, I want you to fuck me."

"Buffy!"

"Do it!"

Gripping her hips now with bruising intensity, he pounded into her and she
stiffened her arms over the dresser to keep herself from sliding. She thrust
back at him with vigor and felt the pleasure coiling within her.

"Right there. . . " she panted. "I'm gonna. . . Oh god!" She came hard, and
he followed right behind her as she massaged him from the inside with her
fluttering walls. He roared her name and came just as hard, if not harder.
He collapsed against her back, his forehead resting damply on her spine.


"Bleedin' hell, Buffy," he panted.

"I'll say."

He lifted up, sliding out of her with a moan and twirled her around, kissing
her ravenously and shifting them towards the bed. They fell in a tangle of
limbs in the bed, Spike's body covering hers. He kissed her languidly this
time and smoothed a hand down her body, brushing the pads of his fingers
across her nipples on the way and then cupping her mound.

She opened for him and it thus it began again.

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

"So, tell me about this apartment idea?" Spike asked later as they dressed.
Shooing her hands away from her blouse, he buttoned it up for her and she watched him with a tender smile playing on her lips. It was endearing to watch him dress her, more intimate somehow than undressing her.

"I want to get one."

"For . . . ?"

She rolled her eyes, "Us."

He blinked, "You do?"

She paused, "Do you not want to live with me?"

"Oh, no, kitten, I do. I just didn't know if you wanted to live with me."

She gave him a funny look. "Why wouldn't I want to? We lived together for
six years."

"Yeah, but, that was different."

"Well, I know all about your disgusting habits, you know about mine—"

"I have no disgusting habits."

"Tell that to the bed full of nails when you bite them in bed."

He gave her a look, "You never said anything about that before."

She grinned, "Because in some perverse way it's cute to watch you do it.
You get this little boy look on your face and it's always when we're watching
something intense or you're thinking really hard about something."

He smiled. "It must be love."

She smiled back, "Must be."

"Well, as it so happens," he told her, sitting back on the bed and leaning
back on his elbows to look up at her, "I was looking for apartments this
morning. I didn't want to presume that you'd want to live with me, but now
that I know," he grinned and reached for her, yanking her on top of him.
"Now we can look together. Have a preference kitten?"

"As long as it's cockroach free and clean, I don't care."

He kissed her chastely, "One bedroom should suffice?"

"She nodded, "Yes. Two bedrooms will only increase cost. Spike, I'm going
to get a job so I can help pay for rent."

He shook his head. "Buffy, you're not dropping out of school. I'll get
another job before I let you do that."

"I'm not going to drop out of school, Spike. I'm going to get a job in addition
to school. A part time job at least for now. Plus, I can work on campus at
the library in between classes for now too. That way, I can study and have
time for a job."

"Buffy—"

"Spike, undergrads do it all the time. It's not a big deal. Some even have
apartments off campus all on their own by doing that. It'll be fine. I only
have a couple years left anyway. The only reason why I never got a job
before was because Mom and Giles pretty much gave me what I needed,"
she wrinkled her nose, "That sounds pathetic when I say it out loud."

"Nah, they just wanted you to focus on school, that's all. You know what a
stickler Dad is about school."

"Right. Well, I think a job would be good for me. And if it's for us to live
together, then even more of an incentive, don't you think?"

Reaching up, he caressed the side of her face and gazed up at her lovingly,
"Sometimes I have a hard time believing you're really here and you love
me."

She pecked his lips quickly, "Believe it." Crawling off him to stand, she held
out her hand to help him up. "Let's go look for a place of our own, shall we?"


He smiled and stood, "Let's." Spike grabbed the paper and Buffy grabbed
her purse. "You know," he said as they walked to the door, "We can discuss
some of your disgusting habits now," and he opened the door.

The pair halted at the sight before them.

Spike stared and then cleared his throat before speaking to the man standing before them. "Hi, Dad."

Chapter Thirty-four

Giles straightened and looked at them. "Am I interrupting?"

"That depends," Buffy said, her defiance sparking up.

"On?" Giles asked, confused.

"If you're here to make Spike feel like shit about himself again."

"Buffy—" Spike started.

"No, son, I deserved that," Giles said, fidgeting slightly. "I'm not here to
uh—"

"Make him feel like shit?" Buffy supplied.

"Buffy, honestly," Giles sputtered. "Your language. I understand that
you're angry with me, but really."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Fine."

"May I come in or do you wish to go out?" Giles asked the pair.

"How about out?" Spike suggested, "Get a coffee, sit down—"

"That way there will be witnesses," Buffy added dryly and Spike squeezed
her hand.

"There's a café just down the street from here. Meet there?" Spike asked.

Giles nodded, "Very well. Meet you there," and he began his trek to his
car.

Buffy started to go, but Spike held her back.

"Buffy, I know you're angry—" he started.

"Aren't you?"

"I am," Spike nodded, "But he's made the first step and I want to hear him
out. Nothing's going to be solved if we fling accusations about."

Buffy sighed, "You're right, I'm sorry."

He pecked her nose, "Don't be sorry. You love me and your willingness to
protect me is endearing."

She smiled shyly at him. "I promise to hear him out."

He smirked, "Can I scold you later if you don't?"

She smirked back, "Better be careful or I might get out of line on purpose."

"Minx."

"Brute."

He grinned and kissed her quickly. "Come on, let's go meet Dad."

***************************************************************
The trio decided in the end not to sit at the café, but to take a walk and have their chat at a nearby park, settling in on a park bench. Spike and Giles sat next to each other and Buffy sat down next to Spike, holding his hand.

"I know I reacted horribly," Giles began and Buffy tamped down the urge
to retort ‘Ya think?' to that.

Spike must have sensed that urge because he squeezed her hand. She
smiled. He knew her well.

Giles looked up at Spike and he looked sad, worried. "Son, I know I
shouldn't have attacked you the way I did. I was in a state of shock. Joyce
came to tell me what was happening and she was beside herself and I just
reacted. My reaction was poor."

"Been the story of our whole history hasn't it Dad?" Spike said, bitterly.

"Now, you have to admit you've given me a run for my money," Giles said in defense of himself.

Spike nodded abruptly, "I have."

"I know since your marriage you've been a changed man, William. You've
always been impulsive and headstrong—much like me. It's caused us to
butt heads over the years. I can't take all the responsibility for that and I
think you'd agree."

Spike stood and Buffy forced herself to sit still. Spike stared down at his
father. "You accused me of preying on her. For all the trouble I might have
given you, Dad, I didn't deserve to be accused of doing that."

Giles hung his head and Spike continued. "Then you told me it was sick and
wrong. God, you don't even know the issues I was having with that whole
thing. You don't know it's the reason why I left, the reason why Dru . . . " he
trailed off.

Giles' head popped up. "No, Son, that was not your problem."

"You don't know—"

"Joyce told me."

Spike's eyes widened and Buffy shot up. "Jesus, what the hell?" she hissed.


"Buffy, calm down," Giles said firmly, "She told me because she wanted to
get me to come out here and talk to you. She was very upset with me. The
thing she didn't realize though was that I--" he took a deep breath and looked up at Spike. "You're a better man than I William. You can admit
your follies, where as I still have trouble. You're stronger than you realize. It took me so long to come and see you after all that mess because I felt
guilty. I felt horrid for how I'd treated you and I didn't know how to make it
right. I was sure I'd ruined you and that the last thing you needed to see
was me."

Buffy bit her lip to keep from speaking out. Spike stared down at his father. "The one person that could have made it all better for me was you, Dad," he said softly.

"I'm not going to lie to either of you and tell you that the thought, even
after I'd come to terms with it, made me feel that it was in someway wrong.
That doesn't mean however, that I'm going to stop you or keep you from
being together." Giles sighed, "Will, when I introduced you to Buffy and
Joyce, I saw the chance for you to have a normal family again. It broke my
heart when your mother died. You loved her so much and then she was
taken from you; from us.
When I met and fell in love with Joyce it was like I was able to do right by
you and give you a family. I gave you a mother and a sister." He looked
over at Buffy, "In you, I found someone who I could be a father to. In your
mother, I found a mate for life." He looked back up at Spike, "When you
told me you were together, I thought I'd failed somewhere."

"It has nothing to do with you, Dad."

Giles nodded, "I realize that now."

"I love her Dad. I always have. It wasn't something I ever acted upon
when we were kids. I couldn't do that and I thought that just by feeling this
way I was doing wrong by you, by Joyce, by Buffy. . . I thought I was sick.
When you attacked me that night I felt that my fear had been confirmed.
Dru had told me I was wrong and then you just confirmed it. You wouldn't
even listen to me."

Giles stood, "William, you're not wrong. You're not sick. My God," he shook
his head, "I'm sorry for what I did."

"So you accept us?" Spike asked.

"Son, I would never turn you away, never. If I hadn't been so bull headed.
Maybe we can help each other you and I? You can teach me some patience
and I'll . . . I'll do anything to help you feel better about yourself, William."

"I'm getting there, Dad. It hasn't just been therapy that's helped me, but
it's been Buffy, Dad. She loves me like no other has or ever could."

Giles looked over at Buffy and smiled. "I always thought she had such a big
heart." He smiled, "She always did have a soft spot for you."

"Would you guys hug already?" Buffy exclaimed, welling up in happy tears.

The men chuckled and embraced, Giles doing something Buffy had never
seen him do: Cry. She knew he must have before when his wife died, but
she'd never seen it in all the ten years he'd been her father.

Separating, Spike reached for Buffy and she jumped at his side, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Buffy, might I say that you've picked a great man," Giles told her. Buffy
smiled and jumped at Giles, giving him an impulsive hug.

"I know."

"You never really were much interested in dating and I always worried
when the day would come you'd start. Now I don't have to worry about
liking the bloke."

Buffy smiled and went back to Spike's arms. "Yeah, I think I'll hold on to
this one for quite a while."

Spike smiled down at her, relief evident on his features.

"Would you come back home, now?" Giles asked, "I'm not going to say that
I'm all right with uh. . . certain relations under my roof, but rest assured I
would have issue no matter whom you were with. Perhaps it's time for you
to find a place of your own, William?"

Spike smiled, "One step ahead of you Dad. Buffy and I were about to look
for a place when you showed up."

Giles drew back, startled, "Really? Both of you living together? So soon?"

"We have lived together before," Buffy pointed out.

"And we know all about each other's disgusting habits," Spike added.

Buffy grinned up at him and he grinned back at her.

"For the time being, do you think you could come home? No sense in
wasting your money by staying in a hotel." Giles said.

"Yes, Dad."

"Yes, Giles."

Giles grinned. "Cheeky group we have here huh? Come now, let's get your
things and go home."