Chapter One

“Life is one fool thing after another whereas love is two fool things after each other.” ~ Oscar Wilde



“Yhello,” Buffy said into her cell phone as she sped down her road, on her way home.

“Hey, pet.”

She smiled at the sound of William “Spike” Giles’s voice, her much older best guy friend. In her mind’s eye, she could see him: His white blond hair, stunning blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, and patented smirk in place. “Hello there, Casanova. How you doin’?”

He chuckled, “Oh, just peachy.”

“Nothing ever good comes out of you saying that. What happened?”

“You don’t need to sound like that,” he mock grumbled.

“Like what? Like I know you?” she laughed, her green eyes sparkling in delight.

“You know, you’re getting too big for your britches.”

She laughed again, “Honestly, Spike. Who says that? Maybe we need to take a trip back to the 1800’s when they might have thrown that phrase around.”

“You trying to tell me I’m old? Was that a shot at my age?”

“Would I do that?” she said in mock innocence.

“Yeah, Summers, you would.”

“I think you’re just sensitive.”

“Well, you’d be sensitive too if your best friend was twelve years younger than you.”

“You best be talking about me,” she warned him.

“Naturally, pet.”

“Well, my best friend has gaggles of women after him –“

“Cause I’m famous, no other reason than that, luv.”

“Are we feeling a quart low on our self-esteem today?” she scolded him.

“No, not really. . . Well, Harmony’s right pissed at me.”

Buffy refrained from saying ‘Thank God’ to that because really, she couldn’t stand the blond twit.

“I hear you’re mind workin’ over there Summers, I know what you’re thinking.”

“And that is. . . ?”

“That you never liked Harmony?”

“Well, okay, yes. She’s a . . . dumbass, William.”

“Ah, but a hot dumbass.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Spike, honestly, what do you see in her?”

“I see her adoring me, and I see me getting laid on a regular basis.”

“You’re disgusting,” Buffy told him, only half kidding.

“Well, when you get to be my age—“

“When I get to be your age I can only hope that I’m as successful as you and I really hope I’m –“she stopped abruptly. “Never mind.”

“What? Say it, pet. You’re nothing but honest with me, so say it.”

“No,” she said stubbornly. “Listen, I gotta go. I’m home now and I’ve got shit to do.”

“Oh? Got a date tonight?”

“Something like that,” she said on a sigh and parked her car in the parking lot in front of her apartment building.

“Who is he? Is he –“

“Goodbye, Spike.”

“Buffy—“

Clicking her phone shut, Buffy sighed heavily and slid her phone in her purse. He irked her sometimes, he really did. The man was famous – a Television star, having made it big playing a futuristic role as a vampire-made-cop. He was the lead, and he got much press for it, alongside his lovely female co-star who was rumored to be the ‘next big thing’. The show, ‘Vampire Chronicles’ was a cult classic and as such, Spike would sometimes travel all over the world making appearances at conventions.

It was at such a convention that Buffy had met him. She’d been dragged to a convention by her younger sister who begged and begged for her to go. It was really the only way Dawn would have been able to go since their parents flat out refused to take her. So, sixteen year old Dawn got to go with twenty – six year old Buffy as her escort.

How it happened, she was still not clear on to this day, only that she had the distinct impression that Spike’s initial reasoning for engaging her so thoroughly in conversation with him, was that he wanted to sleep with her. She made it loud and clear that wasn’t going to happen, and he backed off, but in turn made it clear he wanted to keep in touch. She thought he was full of crap, for what thirty-eight year old would want to pursue a friendship with someone twelve years younger -- and someone famous no less? She balked at him, but gave him her phone number – only the cell – and was incredibly surprised when he actually called.

Thus began the, so far, one and a half year friendship between the pair. Spike confided in her, told her she was the only one he could really talk to and called her his best friend. She, feeling the freedom of never actually having to see him very often, and therefore feeling quite free to express herself to him, considered him to be her best friend as well. Her best guy friend.

It worked because of the distance, she often thought, but then again, with someone as charismatic as Spike was, who knew. The man oozed charm; mostly using that charm to bed many fans (all female, mind you) and women just casually met on the street.

If only he’d use his powers for good.

And Buffy hated hearing about it. In the beginning she was shocked to hear his exploits and stunned when he’d say things like “I love women. I love every bone in their body. Especially mine.” Then she’d heard Steven Tyler from Aerosmith say the same line and called him not only a pervert, but a plagiarist. She’d reached some kind of plateau for a while where she’d listen to him go on about his harem and it hadn’t bothered her too much, but as of late it’d gotten to the point where she just didn’t want to hear about it anymore. It irked her on many levels.

She thought his behavior ill fitted to a man of his age; a man that at thirty-nine should be settling down and busying himself with family. A man that shouldn’t be skirt chasing, basically, children, who couldn’t remember a time when there were no cell phones and internet, and who thought the Care Bears were a new cartoon just released for kids.

She also thought it ill of his behavior to be dating women closer in age to his ten year old daughter than him. What kind of message was he sending her? And for all those that did not accept Alicia, Buffy’s heart ached for the girl. The girl she’d met on a few occasions and felt a bond with, for no particular reason aside from the fact that they just inexplicably clicked.

Having to hear about Harmony was pretty much it for Buffy on her tolerance meter. The blond twit was a pop singer, close to the likes of Britney Spears, however, Harmony was so bad, Buffy found herself actually defending Miss Spears against Harmony when the press seemed keen on comparing the two. When she found herself defending Britney Spears, Buffy knew that things had to change; she just didn’t know how, or to even what exactly.

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

“So, you’re on vacation soon, huh Buffy?” Willow Rosenberg, Buffy’s best friend asked, rather perkily, later that evening as they sat in a booth having dinner and drinks.

Buffy gave her a funny look, “Yeah, starting Friday. For two whole weeks.”

“You must be excited!” Willow’s green eyes were alight in fake joy.

“What’s going on? Not that I don’t mind you being perky and all, but you’re being weird, and it’s kind of freaking me out.”

Willow’s shoulders sagged and she gave Buffy a look as she stabbed her chicken breast. “I’m being perky because you’re being grumpy girl.”

“I am not being grumpy girl!” Buffy exclaimed indignantly. “How am I being grumpy girl?”

“You’ve barely listened to a word I’ve said, you’re poking at your pasta and have this sullen ‘oh woe is me’ look on your face.”

Buffy sighed and sat back, putting her fork down. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, I’m just . . . frustrated.”

“Spike?”

Buffy looked at her, “Why do you think it’s him?”

“Because lately it usually is him. He call you to tell you the many ways he did Harmony?”

“They broke up.”

“Then you should be happy! Rejoicing. I know I am,” Willow commented, flipping her red hair over shoulder.

“Yeah, because you’re just as tired of hearing about her as I am.”

“Well, I’m not going to lie, but yes. Though I think my happiness is for different reasons.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean,” and she stuffed a forkful of chicken in her mouth. “Why aren’t you more happy?”

Buffy quirked a brow, “That your clever way of sidetracking me?”

“Yep, though it didn’t work.”

“Not in the least.”

“Oh well. But, not telling, so why don’t you answer me instead?”

“I am happy that they’re not together anymore, but I’m…I think I’m bracing myself.”

Willow looked at her funny, “For?”

Buffy sighed, forlorn, “For the next ‘relationship’.”

****“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.” ~ Oscar Wilde ****

William “Spike” Giles sat on his balcony overlooking the rising sun. Bringing his cigarette to his mouth, he took a drag and sat back in the lounger.

Ah, the quiet. These were the best moments. Though, it was strange, not to mention contradictory, for him to feel that way. He thrived in crowds, loved being the center of attention.

Loved being adored and wanted, essentially. All eyes on him, basking in him. He chuckled as he remembered Buffy saying to him once, “There’s no conceit in your family, you have it all.”

He supposed he did. He knew the truth though; he knew that underneath that Leo-like exterior that thrived on being in the spotlight, he knew there was the heart of a poet underneath it all. The heart of a poet that did yearn for something more than one-night-stands and flings with girls who could be heard asking “Wow, so what were the seventies like? I wasn’t even born yet!”

Buffy was born in 1979; she was twenty-seven now and had a head on her shoulders befitting a man of his age. He had a head on his shoulder befitting a man of her age. Mostly because he thought with the head between his legs.

She’d been upset with him the night before, he knew it. He heard exasperation in her voice and it irked him. It also irked him that she had a date and he knew nothing about it. Then, she’d practically hung up on him. She was bothered by something and while he’d been tempted to call her back, he knew that when she was in a mood it was best to give her, her space.

Looking at his clock and calculating what time it was on the east coast, Spike figured it might not be best to wake her up on a Saturday morning. Waking Buffy was akin to rousing a bear. Not a good idea.

“Spike,” came a sleepy female voice from his bedroom. “Where are you?”

Spike stood and crushed his cigarette in the nearby ashtray. “Be there in a minute, luv.”

Taking a deep breath, Spike made his way into his bedroom, set on pleasing the woman he’d chosen to warm his bed the night before.

Was it sad that he couldn’t even remember her name? All he’d been interested in at the time was that the beauty wanted him, in fact, flirted openly with him, and knew who he was. She claimed she was his biggest fan.

“So,” Spike purred, slipping into bed, and inside the brunette lying wantonly on his bed,

“Still my biggest fan?”

She giggled, “Oh yes, baby, the biggest.”

Chapter Two

“Between men and woman there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship.” ~ Oscar Wilde



The phone ringing jarred Buffy from her intense studying of real estate for sale in the greater Boston area, and she leaned back in her computer chair, stretching. She was intent on making another sale before vacation. If not for anything than to be able to stick it to her competitor, Riley Finn. The guy thought he was God’s gift to real estate. Sure, their numbers were close and almost comparable, but not quite. And yes, they were both quite young to have succeeded as well as they have, but Buffy knew she not only had the drive, but the talent. People loved her, which was why they bought from her. Riley was just a fake, saccharine sweet, annoying pain in the ass.

Scowling at the direction her thoughts were taking, Buffy snatched up the phone on the fourth ring, “Hello?”

“Whoa, there kitten. Retract those claws.” Spike.

Buffy sighed, “Sorry. What’s up? It’s like . . . nine, your time. You’re never up at this hour.”

“Can’t call my favorite girl?” he purred.

“I’m not your girl,” she said automatically, and stood, reaching a hand over her head and stretching some more.

“That hurts, kitten.”

“Not your kitten either.”

“Buffy—“

“I refuse to be lumped into the same group as all your . . . groupies,” she told him.

“Buffy, you know you’re not.”

Yeah, she thought bitterly, only because I’ve never slept with you. The fact that the idea had appeal was what did not sit well with Buffy. Did the fact that she kind of wanted to sleep with him make her no better than the floozies he took up with?

“So, what’s up?”

“You were upset with me last night.”

“I wasn’t,” she lied.

“You’re lying.”

“Can’t prove anything.”

She could almost see the grin on his face by the smile in his voice when he asked, “Are you pouting?”

She immediately sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, “Nope.”

“Liar.”

“Again, can’t prove anything.”

“Can you tell me what upset you? Was it something I did? Said?”

“Spike, I was just . . . busy. Work and all. . . “ she trailed off, hoping he stopped questioning her about something she had no real answers to.

“That wanker Finn giving my—you a hard time?”

She decided to skip over his near mistake on calling her ‘his’ and shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. Why was it that people did that anyway?

“Do what, luv?”

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” she said on a sigh and sat down in her recliner.

He chuckled warmly, “Sure did. You know that’s my favorite part. Love it when you speak your thoughts like that. It’s cute.”

She tried not to let her heart flutter at the ‘cute’ remark and snorted instead.

“So why do people do what?” he pressed.

“I shook my head after you asked me about Riley. It’s not like you can see me do it, but everyone does it.”

Now she could see him shrug in her mind’s eye. “We all do it I suppose. So, he’s not bothering you then?”

“Well, not anymore than usual. It’s okay, though. I can take him.”

He laughed and she smiled at the sound, adjusting herself so her legs were curled under her.

“What did you do last night?” they asked at the same time and then laughed together.

“You first,” she told him.

“I’m afraid to tell you.”

She let out big sigh and said “Spike,” on a whine.

“She was nice! She was a fan.”

“A fan? You slept with a fan? Are you crazy? You’re nucking futs you know that?”

He laughed again, “Oh, Buffy, no one makes me laugh like you do.”

“What was her name?”

“I – I think it was Mindy.”

“Mindy? Was she missing Mork?”

“I was her Mork for the night.”

Buffy groaned, “Bad. That was bad.”

He chuckled, “Come on.”

“She probably doesn’t even know who Mork and Mindy are,” she muttered.

“I never bothered to ask. What about you? What did you do?”

“I went out to dinner.”

“With?”

She smirked into the phone, “Someone.”

“Someone have a name?”

“Will.”

“As in Willow?”

“Maybe.”

“Buffy . . . just tell me.”

“Are you seeing Alicia today?”

“I am, in a couple hours I’m picking her up.”

“Mindy going with you?”

“Of course not, she was just a – a—“

“One night stand? Come on Spike, you usually don’t trip over that too often. Why now?”

“Because I sense you don’t like it.”

Now she shrugged, “What are you and Alicia doing?”

“You’re not going to tell me if it was Willow, or some guy named Will are you?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Are you pouting now?”

“Yes.”

She laughed, “Too bad.”

“Anyone ever tell you how stubborn you are?”

“You do, all the time.”

“Alicia and I are going to the zoo.”

“Awww, that sounds like fun, Spikey.”

“I’m pretty fond of it myself.”

“She’s so cute when she gets to feed the animals, the look on her face is a picture,” Buffy mused happily.

“Buffy . . . “

“Yeah?”

“When can you come out?”

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly.

“I mean, when can you come out here to visit? I miss you.”

“You don’t miss me Spike. You just miss have another female around all the time now that Harmony’s gone,” she told him dryly, a slightly bitter tone to her voice.

“You know that’s not true, Buffy,” he said, sounding angry, “Why would you say something like that?”

She sighed and rubbed her head with the heel of one hand, “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Are you, really?”

“Yes, I am. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You need a vacation, pet. You work too hard and too much.”

“Not all of us can have the summer off like you and besides, I have a vacation coming up next –“ her eyes widened with that slip and she thought fast on how to cover it up, “Hey, can you take a picture of Alicia feeding the animals for me?”

“Buffy,” he said sternly, “You have a vacation coming up next week?”

She sucked at lying, so, squeezing her eyes shut, she squeaked out, “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before? You wound me, Buffy, you really do.”

“Because I . . . “

“What?”

“I don’t . . .”

“Spit it out, Buffy.”

“I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to ask me to go out there. I knew you’d turn on the charm and no matter how much I try to resist that devilish charm, somehow you always end up getting me to do your will, and then I’d go out there and be the third wheel while some dopey college cheerleader draped themselves on your arm for my entire visit and –“

“Buffy, stop.”

She clamped her mouth shut, and pouted.

“If you come out here to visit me, I promise not to have some dopey college cheerleader on my arm.”

“I don’t think that’s a promise you can keep. Let’s be real here, Spike. I used to think you were in danger of having your penis fall off from too much sex, and now I think you’d be in danger of it falling off with no sex.”

“You’re just so funny, you know that? Come see me.”

“Spike . . . no,” she was starting to whine now.

“Why not?”

“Because I now I feel guilty.”

“For?”

“For not wanting to go out there, for basically telling you how you’d have to stop living your life if I visited. That’s not fair to you. If you want to go out with some dopey college cheerleader, then you should go out with some dopey college cheerleader. I have no right to tell you not to do it. Which is why it’s better that I stay here, I don’t want you feeling obligated to entertain me –“

“Buffy, the whole reason I’m asking you to come out here to see me is for me. I mean, yeah, it’s your vacation and you should be doing vacation type things, but if you came out here, you’d really be doing me a favor.”

“Really?” she asked in a small voice.

“Pet, I miss you. I want to spend some time with you. If you came out here, my attention would be focused on you and you alone. I wouldn’t make you the third wheel and I wouldn’t put you in any situation that would make you uncomfortable. I promise.”

“You see? There’s that charm.” She sighed. “I hate you.”

He chuckled, “No, you don’t. You love me.”

She said nothing.

“So? Will you come?”

Taking a deep breath, Buffy finally conceded. “Yes. I’ll come.”

“Excellent! How long is your vacation?”

She scrunched up her face, really wishing she could lie, and well. “Two weeks.”

“Perfect! I’m calling my assistant now and you should have tickets in just a few days—“

“Spike, you don’t have to do that, I can get my own—“

“Hush your lip, I’m doing it. I can’t wait to see you, kitten.”

He hung up before she could tell him she was not his kitten.

Chapter Three

“Women represent the triumph of matter over mind, just as men represent the triumph of mind over morals.” ~Oscar Wilde


“So, you’re really going huh?” Willow asked later that week when Buffy showed her the tickets she’d gotten in the mail.

Flopping down dejectedly in her sofa, Buffy nodded and moaned, covering her eyes with an arm. “Yeah, I’m really going.”

“Why don’t you sound happier about it? I remember a time when you couldn’t wait to see him.”

“I know, I don’t get it.”

“Hmm…don’t get it, or don’t want to get it?”

“Cut the crap, Willow. Just tell me what it is you’re thinking.”

“That you have a thing for Spike and that’s why this is bothering you so much.”

Buffy dropped her arm and peered over at her friend, “I thought when one had a crush on someone they wanted to see the object of their affection.”

“Not when said object of their affection is always putting his attention elsewhere. Like, oh, on meaningless bimbo’s.”

Buffy put her arm back over her eyes, “It’s his life.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t care about him. Or Alicia.”

“You’re absolutely right, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about him, but it doesn’t mean that I have a thing for him either. It just means that I . . . that I hate seeing such destructive behavior in someone that I consider a friend.”

“Right. And the fact that you basically told him you don’t want to go out there and witness him with other women doesn’t mean you’re jealous at all.”

“Exactly. Wills, I’ve never told Spike directly what I think of his man whore behavior. I’ve indirectly told him only; through jokes and brief comments or silence . . . it works for us that way. Why complicate things by telling him?”

“Because maybe he needs to hear it?”

“It’s not like he’ll change.”

“Why do you suppose he does it? Because he can? Because being famous as he is, and desired by women everywhere, he’s living out a youthful fantasy?”

“I suppose that’s part of it, and because he’s a man and any man faced with the prospect of having meaningless affairs and a string of one-night-stands would do it. I mean, it’s every man’s fantasy isn’t it? No strings attached, and if there are strings becoming attached, then they’re snipped away and it’s on to the next Mindy.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing; just the name of Spike’s latest conquest.”

“Stewardess or ice skater?”

Buffy giggled, “He didn’t stick around long enough to find out. She only, you know, slept in his bed for the night.” She let out a tremendous groan and flopped her arm over her head and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to go!”

“Then don’t.”

“I can’t not go. He’d be crushed and really, I mean, I do want to see him. I do. I just . . . I just. . .argh!”

“You just don’t want to have to witness him with other women while you’re there.”

“Yes.”

“Because….”

Buffy looked over at her friend warily.

Willow grinned, “That’s what I thought.”

*** “I can resist everything except temptation.” ~ Oscar Wilde***

“Well, luv, I’ll be free tonight if you want to stop by,” Spike purred at the attractive blond across from him. How good was he finding someone at the airport?

The leggy, blue eyed blond with the incredible rack fluttered her fake eyelashes and giggled, looking at him coyly as she took the piece of paper with his address and number on it. “I’d love to Mr. Giles.”

“Now, now, none of that formality. Call me Spike, I insist.”

She smiled broadly, “You’re so handsome in person!”

“What are you saying? I’m not handsome on TV?”

She looked dutifully horrified that she’d implied such a thing and rushed to explain herself. Spike chuckled and patted her arm, “It’s all right, luv. I’m just teasing.”

She looked up at him from under her lashes and bit her lip, “So I can come over after ten?”

“Yes, after ten. Come right up and I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Don’t forget me.”

He placed a hand over his chest. “You wound me, pet. I would never forget such a lovely woman as yourself.”

Giggling, she stood, grabbed her rolling suitcase and walked away, waving coquettishly and swaying her hips. Spike bit his lip, thinking about all the wonderful ways he was going to enjoy that pretty piece of flesh. He was just going to have to make sure that Buffy was tucked away in her bed by the time . . . shit! What was her name? Oh yeah, Laura. So, Buffy was going to have to be in bed by the time Laura came by. That shouldn’t be a problem though; Buffy never did deal well with jet lag.

Looking down at his watch, he guesstimated that Buffy should be arriving at any moment. He was more than a little excited to see her. The last time they’d seen each other in the flesh was a good six months ago. Talking to her on the phone, over email and through IM’s was all well and good, but it was nothing like having her there, right in front of him. The idea warmed him and made Laura flee his mind in an instant.

Sitting up straight, he stretched out his arms on either side of him and slouched slightly. He wanted to be the first thing Buffy saw when she came off the plane.

He watched anxiously, feeling his heart jump in anticipation as the throng of people started coming out. Passengers hugged families and friends, kissed lovers and genuinely looked thrilled to see each other. Watching the display made Spike yearn for someone to welcome him in such a manner. For someone to want him that much; miss him and need him that much.

And then he saw her. She was walking down, purse slung across her shoulder and a duffel bag in hand, chatting with some tall, oafish bloke dressed all in black. Honestly, what kind of wanker dressed all in black like that?

Looking down at himself, he groaned inwardly. Oh yeah, wankers like him, that’s who.

He smiled at the vision of her, opting to stand and greet her instead of waiting for her to see him sitting there. Her blond hair had grown longer, past her shoulders and was darker now, more honey blond than bleached blond like himself. She was dressed for the weather in green capri’s, sandals and a white cami. Her toes, he noted, were tainted pink. Her face was clear of heavy makeup, instead she kept it simple and her lips matched her pink toes.

It hit him with force that he could not wait to envelope her in his arms, and know that she was there, finally, with him.

The oafish man departed from her, but not before handing her a card of some sort. Buffy smiled at him and waved as he trekked off. Spike scowled, and that, unfortunately, was the sight Buffy got to see of him first.

She smiled first, caught the scowl, and halted. “What?”

“Who was that?”

“A guy I was talking to on the flight.”

“What did he give you there?” Spike asked, nodding towards her hand that held his card.

“Oh this?” she held up the card, and then slipped it into her purse with ease. “His card.”

“Why is he giving you his card?”

“To call him, I imagine.”

“For what?” he demanded.

“Can we try this over again? I haven’t seen you in six months, I just spent six hours on a plane, I’m hot, sweaty and gross and since I did travel all this way to see you—“

He cut her off by wrapping her up in his arms. “Hi, Buffy.”

“That’s better,” she said, beaming up at him. He felt something squeeze his heart at the sight. He was hit with the urge to reach up and caress the side of her face, and started to lift his hand to do just that when she pulled away from him. “Luggage, Spikey.”

He smiled at her, “Of course, luv.”

“So, I expected to see a gaggle of girls around you. What happened? You laying low?”

He grinned, “I made a promise to a lady to behave while she’s visiting me.”

“Be still my heart,” she said, placing a hand over said heart and laughing.

He beamed at her, “You know, luv, nothing beats seeing your smile up close like this. I missed it.”

She swatted him playfully, “Charmer.”

He held out his arm, “Mi’lady?”

“Ah, a lady,” she said on a wistful sigh and took his offered arm. “That must be a change for you.”

He bumped her with his hip and they both laughed as they set off for her luggage.

Chapter Four

“The Book of Life begins with a man and a woman in a garden…It ends with Revelations.” ~ Oscar Wilde

“So, when can I see Alicia?” Buffy asked as soon as they’d arrived at his penthouse. His incredible, bachelor pad, penthouse. Well, now, that wasn’t fair. He had decorated it quite well, there was a definite gothic theme to the place – lots of blacks, reds and silver. There were even a few gargoyles adorning the place. Buffy had never been sure if it was the influence of his character on his show, if it was his taste, or if it was just for ‘effect’, to create that air of mystery and the forbidden about him that he chose to decorate in such a manner.

She kind of liked it though. In a weird way.

The only room in the place that was ‘normal’ was the guest room. In fact, it was obvious that it hadn’t been touched at all. The plain cream walls had no pictures adorning them; and nothing on the dresser and nightstand except for two lamps and an alarm clock, respectively. And then there was the lack of curtains; just shades. It made sense though, considering the overnight guests he usually had stayed in his bed. She shook that thought off, and the images it produced.

He grinned, “I think you’re more excited to see her than me.”

Buffy shrugged, “I love you daughter. She’s just so . . . cute.”

He pouted, “And I’m not?”

She grinned, “I know what you mean now about seeing things up close and personal. Look at that pout,” she giggled and reached out, brushing her fingers across his bottom lip. The action stunned her, and him. He could tell by the look on her face that she hadn’t thought before she acted. He wondered, by the way she jerked her had away so quickly, if she felt the same electrical sparks rush through her as they did him. They locked eyes for a half a second and then she went about her business of unzipping her suitcase and fishing for some clothes. “Mind if I take a shower?”

He shook his head, staring at her, dazed, “Not at all.”

She bounced past him to the shower and he caught the whiff of vanilla. It was the scent he associated to Buffy. Just Buffy. If another female he was with wore it, he still attributed that scent as uniquely Buffy’s and felt almost . . . guilty for it.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Best to call the ex-wife and find out when he could take Alicia so Buffy could have her fill.

*** “Dammit, sir, it is your duty to get married. You can't be always living for pleasure.” ~Oscar Wilde***

Buffy awoke abruptly, followed by the disorientating feeling of knowing you’re not in your bed, but not sure of where you are at first.

Spike. California. Guest room.

I need to pee. Where was the bathroom again?

Getting her bearings once again, Buffy rose from her bed, and stumbled her way to the bathroom that was just off her bedroom, using the moonlight to guide her.

Quickly going about her business, she was on her way back to bed when she heard voices. Spike’s and . . . a female. She froze, trying to gauge who the voices were – was Alicia here? Did she miss that? No, this did not sound like a little girls voice and besides, that was ridiculous. Alicia was ten, she wasn’t going to be coming over at . . . Midnight. Okay…was it his ex-wife, Samantha? No. Sam had Alicia and was home with her new husband. Harmony? Oh god, the thought made Buffy want to puke.

Well, there was only one thing left to do. She was going to make like Nancy Drew and solve this mystery.

Creeping out her bedroom door, she paused to once again gather her bearings. Okay, stairs, there were stairs set in the middle of the hall that led down to the living room, kitchen, dining room and a bathroom. Spike’s bedroom was just down the hall from hers so he had to be downstairs. Plus, she could see light coming from downstairs, so that kind of tipped her off too.

As quiet as a mouse, she tiptoed down the stairs and peered over the stairs to see if she could see him or if she had to move down more. Nope. She had the perfect view.

Of him making out with some blond with big boobs.

The sight of him fondling some girl didn’t make her hot to witness his prowess, no, it made her sick. It punched her straight in the gut, nearly knocking the wind out of her. And her heart, oh god, her heart dropped to the floor and ached, literally ached.

Part of her wanted to run down the stairs and interrupt them, and the other part wanted to dry heave right there on the stairs and then . . . cry. Yes, she wanted to cry. In fact, the back of her eyes pricked with tears. He promised. He told her there would be no girls, he promised. What happened to his word? Oh yes, well, what did she expect? she thought bitterly as she tried to quietly make it up the stairs. This was of course Spike. Spike, who made a million promises to a million different women a day. Why should she be any different? She wasn’t. That was the thing. She wasn’t. She was just another girl in his life that he put on an act for, played a part for. She really didn’t mean anything to him, not at all. Being out here with him was just to stroke his ego that he got her to come out and see him. Being out here was him making sure that he wasn’t alone. Spike hated to be alone. He was never companionless. So that’s just what she was. His companion for the next two weeks. She was sure, whether he realized it or not, that being alone was the same as death to Spike.

She sat on her bed and the tears came, rolling down her cheeks and wetting her hands that were clenched on her lap. She wanted to scream at him.

She wanted to break up his little party.

No wonder he’d pressured her to go to bed when she’d started to yawn. It wasn’t because he was concerned about her getting enough rest for their day out with Alicia tomorrow, it was so he could fornicate with the flavor of the week!

She was shaking in anger and hurt. Hurt, hurt why? Why Buffy, why?

Jolting up, she wiped at her tears with a goal in mind. She was thirsty and she was going to get some water.

Striding with a purpose out of her room, she practically ran down the stairs, not wanting to give him any chance to hide his little tramp for the night.

Walking in, the living room, she took delight in the deer-in-the-headlights look Spike was wearing. She feigned surprise, “Oh, God, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?”

The blond bimbo looked up at Spike, biting her bottom lip, “Spike? Who is that?”

“Oh, uh, Buffy, hey! What are you doing up?” Spike stumbled on his words, standing up on shaky legs, plastering on a fake smile.

“I needed some water,” she nearly snapped at him and then turned to the girl, and held out her hand in false courtesy. “Hi, I’m Dr. Summers.”

“Doctor?” the girl said, confused. “Why is there a doctor staying over here, Spike?”

“I’m his psychologist. He has trouble getting to sleep at night. He has a blanky still, silly boy,” and she laughed for effect. “And he still needs to be tucked in and sung to. We’re working through it. I come over at night to try a different, more adult routine. I guess you’re part of his routine tonight. The little boy still needs to have his fun,” she laughed, a fake laugh once again, and reached out ruffling Spike’s curls, roughly. “Let me ask you,” she addressed the girl, “Do you know all the lyrics to ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb?’”

“Okay, Laura, I think it’s time for you to go now,” Spike said, reaching out and taking Laura by the arm, hauling her up from the couch.

Laura looked up at him wide-eyed, “I know the lyrics to ‘Ba Ba Black Sheep’, will that do?”

Buffy had to walk away before she blew her cover by laughing, and really, she wanted Spike to stew in the possibility that this floozy could spread some gossip about him. She was so angry and hurt by him at that moment, she didn’t care about his precious reputation. If anything, the consummate Ladies Man needed to be brought down a notch or two.

Or twenty.

Sauntering into the kitchen, Buffy hummed to herself as she got her glass of water. When she turned, she saw Spike standing there, glaring at her.

She set her glass down and pointed at him, “Don’t you even get mad at me for that.”

“How can I not, Buffy? Do you realize that she could blab to the tabloids—“

“Pay her off then. I don’t really care what you do with her!”

“When did you become such a bitch?”

“Probably about the time you started dating fucking twelve –year olds.”

“Such language,” he said sarcastically, tsking her.

“What can I say?” she smiled sardonically, “You bring out the best in me. I’m so mad at you, I could spit nails,” she said through clenched teeth. “You promised me!”

His anger seemed to melt to regret and with puppy dog eyes he came forward, reaching for her. “I’m so—“

“Don’t,” she said through clenched teeth. “Why bother apologizing Spike? Don’t tell me you’re sorry just to pacify me. Just to make yourself feel better. It’s not like I mean anything to you anyway, so really, it’s just an empty apology and you know it.”

His eyes widened, “Buffy Anne Summers, you are something to me, don’t you dare say that –“

“Save it. I want to see Alicia tomorrow, so I’m going to do that, whether you want to come or not. After, I’m going to make arrangements to visit my aunt in Santa Monica. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

“Buffy, luv, please—“

“Don’t. Call me that. I’m not your ‘love’. I’m just . . . I’m one of ‘them’. Just here to stroke your ego. But, turns out, you didn’t need me after Harmony. You’re doing just fine on your own. So, I’ll be out of your hair so you can continue being ‘fine’.”

She stalked by him, shaking in hurt and anger. The sight of him holding another girl in his arms was imprinted in her mind and she wasn’t sure if it would ever leave her long enough for her to get some much-needed rest.

Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who know love's tragedies.~ Oscar Wilde

She hadn’t gotten much sleep. She alternated being angry with him, and then feeling as if her heart had been ripped out.

Was she being unfair? Was she being unreasonable? It wasn’t as if he had to answer to her, it wasn’t as if they were together – she was just his friend. His visiting friend from the east coast. Did she really have a right to be so damn upset with him?

He had promised though. She’d told him she hadn’t wanted to come out here to be privy to his sexual exploits; hadn’t wanted to be the third wheel and ‘intrude’ on his lifestyle. It was for those reasons that he’d promised to not subject her to that. And yet, there he’d been, about to fuck another one of his groupies.

Though, she had been in bed . . .

But, God, that was worse! It would have been one thing if he’d told her ‘Look, Buffy, I met someone and I want to take them out, can we work something out?’ But no, instead he’d practically pushed her up to bed under the pretense of ‘resting up’ for Alicia and then he’d brought her in all covert op.

And then, then when the girl had actually been dumb enough to say she would sing him ‘Ba Ba Black Sheep’. Just a testament to the lack of judgment and taste Spike had in women. Girls like that were the reason blond jokes were invented. Girls like that were the reason some men – and apparently Spike included – had no respect for women and saw them as trophies, no better than a blow up doll.

Hmm. There was a thought. Maybe if she got him a blow up doll that would pacify him for at least a little while.

Growling in frustration, Buffy flung her pillow across the room.

“Buffy?” came Spike’s hesitant voice.

She froze. “What?”

“Can I come in?”

“It’s your house.” Sitting up in bed, she folded her arms across her chest and watched as he shuffled in, forlorn.

Raising a brow, she waited for him to start the act. The ‘I’m so sorry’ act. The ‘I know you love me, pet’ routine. All that acting to get what he wanted.

“Pet, I know you’re upset with me—“

“Oh, am I? What gave you that idea?”

He took a deep breath, “Buffy, please hear me out. I was up all night after what I did, thinking about what I did –“

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I disturb your sleep? Just think, if I hadn’t gotten up, I wouldn’t have disturbed your rest. My bad.”

“Buffy, shut up and listen to me.”

She climbed out of bed. “Now this is what I want. Some realism here. Don’t give me the candy-coated crap you dole out to everyone else, give it to me straight.”

“God, you know, you don’t make things easy, you know that?” his voice rose in exasperation.

“Good, I’m glad. You have it far too easy with all of them. There should be at least one female in your life that doesn’t make it easy for you.”

“You do remember Samantha, right? My ex-wife? She hasn’t made it easy for me at all. “

“You know, I’ll get on board with the fact that she did give you a hard time when it came to Alicia, but Spike. . . you cheated on the woman! How did you expect her to react?”

“Much like you are now, I reckon,” he drawled. “You’re acting like a woman scorned, there pet—“

“Not your pet,” she said automatically.

“So, then what is really going on here, pet? This really about how I went back on my word or the fact that I was getting my rocks off with someone that wasn’t you?”

She glared at him, balling her hands into fists and digging her nails in her palm to keep from slapping the smirk off his face. “You’ve never gotten your rocks off with me, Spike. And, you never will. Who knows? Maybe this is what it’s really about. Maybe your man whoring is all due to the fact that I was the unattainable one; the one that resisted your advances and charm. I set the bar and now you’re looking to just make me jealous because you know you can’t have me.” She was duly impressed with the ease in which that response was made. She knew it was all a bunch of bunk, but it was far better to pretend, to act as if she believed rather than let him think she wanted him.

He laughed, a chilling, derisive laugh that had her bracing for his next verbal attack.
This, arguing the way they were, had never happened before. Sure they’d had little spats, but this went beyond a ‘little spat’.

It killed her that she was a woman scorned and that Willow was right. There was something there for him, always had been on some level, and she sucked at trying to repress it. That was the thing about repressing, the more you shoved the thing down, the more it sought to emerge with a vengeance.

Wasn’t that just spit-in-your-face, kick-you-in-the-crotch, fantastic?

She never should have come; she should have followed her gut and stayed the hell home. There at least she could dodge phone calls, put off reading emails and block him from IMing her. This though, this was in-your-face. This was months – maybe even the year and half they’d been friends – of crap coming out: Her annoyance at his lack of responsibility as a father and as a man; his obvious lack of self control and self-respect for himself. She didn’t buy into the fact that it was a sign of his virility and that it was ‘okay’ because he was a man. Fuck that. It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay when a woman did it, why should it be okay for him?

She stood there, bracing herself for some his verbal attack, and yet, it did not come. Instead, the derisive smile fell from his face and he straightened, meeting her eyes. “Buffy, I don’t want to argue with you. Whether you believe me or not, you are my best friend. I trust you more than anyone – even in spite of what you did last night. I know that you’re upset with me and you have every right to be. I lied to you and I went back on my word. I realize that I might have made you feel as though you’re not important to me and that’s just not true. You, aside from Alicia, mean everything to me. I never realized how you felt about the things I’ve shared with you; how . . . disgusted you were with me. It hurts to know that, Buffy, it really does. But, I can’t do anything about that now. I just. . . I want to get past this and I want get back to being friends. Please, Buffy, don’t leave today. Give me a chance to make it up to you,” he shook his head, “I can’t lose you. You’re the only constant I have, I need you.”

His plea and apology was so heartfelt, Buffy knew he wasn’t bullshitting her, wasn’t putting on an act. She knew him well enough to know he meant what he said. Before she could stop herself, she flew into his arms, hugging him tight. In the distant recesses of her mind she realized that she had been acting more like a jilted lover rather than a friend. There was a line somewhere she crossed – possibly only in her own mind -- when expressing her abhorrence for his behavior and she suddenly felt, well, kind of silly.

That didn’t mean, however, she was about to let him off the hook so easily though. She’d stay, she would, but she was going to find a way, a constructive way, to express to him what he was doing to himself by his behavior, and what he was doing to his daughter. What he did with it after was his decision, and she knew she would find it difficult to walk away from him – she did so thoroughly love him, for when he wasn’t ‘on the prowl’ he was wonderful to be around and she confided in him like no other. But her heart . . . her heart hurt.

She really needed to have a chat with Willow, and soon.

It is perfectly monstrous the way people go about nowadays saying things against one, behind one's back, that are absolutely and entirely true.~Oscar Wilde


Spike watched Buffy out of the corner of his eye as she applied some gloss to her pouty lips. He was glad she was there; doubly glad that they were no longer at each other's throats.

He felt bad. Real bad. He almost lost her, and that wouldn't do. Though he was shaky on how much he might have lost her. If she'd taken off to her aunt's would he have had a shot in hell of getting her back? Or, would that have been the end of everything? The end of their entire friendship. That thought did not sit well with him at all. It shook him up. He'd be on his best behavior from here on out.

He made a promise to a lady-even if he'd already pretty much broken it. God, what was wrong with him? This was Buffy. Buffy. This was not just some girl, as she was inclined to think she was. Though he'd treated her that way, hadn't he? She was . . . he didn't even have words. She transcended 'best friend'. She was in a realm all her own. She was. . . everything. He'd meant it when he said that he needed. Without her he'd be, well, lost.

Aside from his daughter, Buffy was the only real thing in his life. His life, as he was beginning to see, that was completely shallow. Looking at his life through his eyes, he saw everyday as an adventure to be had, where he was the hero and any female that came-a-callin' was his heroine. He was an independent man - somewhat - he had responsibility, yes, but he was not tied down. He was like . . . James Bond.

Looking at his life through Buffy's eyes, he saw himself as more a poor sod like Austin Powers rather than James Bond. And, truthfully, what heroic thing had he done lately? Sure, he paid his child support and spent time with his kid, but what notable thing had he ever done? Career success and parental responsibility aside . . . he'd done nothing.

Yet Buffy was there, right there by his side. And he didn't deserve her.

When he'd first met Buffy, he'd thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on. He remembered not being able to take his eyes off her. She was fresh and young and so full of life - he wanted to get closer to that life. He reacted to her as a man reacts to a woman he finds attractive: he wanted her. He also reacted to her as a man who is sure of himself reacts to a woman: he was going to get her. But. . .

She shot him down.

And by God, he admired her for it. She made it clear to him that he was not going to have his way with her and that she was not interested in him like that at all.

He thought maybe . . . she saw right through him? Saw through his tough-guy exterior and saw the little boy inside that craved attention and affection, and yet took it where he could get it in all the wrong places? For all those that gave him what he needed to easily and readily, Buffy did not. She kept him on his toes and in line. She was real with him. She didn't coddle him or tell him what he wanted to hear. She told him what he needed to hear; knocked him down a few notches when he got too big for his britches and his ego could no longer fit through the door. Though, that was mostly when he was with her. What was the saying? When the cat is away, the mice will play? In this scenario he was definitely the mouse, and she was most definitely the cat.

Course, he hadn't been too good when she was there, now had he?

Sometimes he wondered if the saying 'He who has the most toys wins' applied to him with only a slight variance on the theme: He who has had the most women wins.

So, yes, seeing himself through Buffy's eyes, he could see where he was a right bastard.

"Buffy."

She turned to him, flipping the visor up. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, pet, I really am."

She smiled softly at him, "I know, Spike. You've only told me every half hour for the past three hours."

"I want to make it up to you. Will you let me?"

"You mentioned something about that," she said lightly.

"Tell me what I can do."

"Just. . . just promise me that it'll be just us while I'm here? Well, aside from when you have Alicia. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I can."

"And maybe we can talk later?"

"We can talk about anything you want," he told her sincerely. "You've never told me anything but the truth Buffy, and I want you to continue to do that."

"Trust me, I will."

"And part of me is afraid of that at the same time."

She laughed, "Yeah, you probably should be afraid."

***On an occasion of this kind it becomes more than a moral duty to speak one's mind. It becomes a pleasure.~Oscar Wilde***

Spike watched in amusement as Buffy excitedly bounced out of the car, and followed him to his ex-wife's new home with her husband to get Alicia.

"Get behind me, Buffy. I want it to be a surprise."

Nodding, she followed his direction and stood behind him. "Wow, Spike, you're broader than I realized."

"You calling me fat?"

"No, you dork, I'm saying you're broad. As in muscular."

"Oh," he smirked, "That's okay then." He knew she was rolling her eyes behind his back.

The door flew open and his daughter, his little Alicia, with honey brown curls nearly down to her waist and big blue eyes, the same color as his, greeted him with a big smile on her round face. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, nibblet. How’s my girl?”

She nodded emphatically, “Good. Where we going?”

“Well,” he said grinning, excited about the prospect of surprising his daughter, “I have a surprise for you first.”

Her blue eyes widened, “What?”

Stepping aside, he revealed Buffy who held her arms open with a wide smile on her face. His little girl squealed and jumped into Buffy’s arms, hugging her tight.

He laughed at how absolutely adorable his girls were wrapped up in each other’s arms like long lost friends.

“What the – oh. It’s you.”

Spike looked up to see Samantha, his ex-wife, standing in the doorway. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a pony tail, her brown eyes currently slanted at him, her angular face angling into an all over frown. Then, she saw Buffy. And brightened immediately.

“Buffy!” Sam exclaimed and burst through the screen door to greet Buffy.

Spike shook his head. The Ice Queen was melted by Buffy. She hated the sight of him, got on his case about his younger girlfriends, but Buffy, Buffy she loved. Watching Sam rush over to the squealing, giggling girls, Spike stood back and watched Buffy.

The sun was hitting her at just the right angle behind her, causing an all over glow about her. She was luminous. Her smile was wide and bright, making her green eyes sparkle with unadulterated happiness.

Not at all like this morning and the night before when she’d been so angry and so hurt by him. That hit him, hit him right in his heart, and he felt it ache. The last two people on the Earth he ever wanted to hurt were Alicia and Buffy. He’d managed already to hurt Buffy and it made him wonder – had his behavior as of late hurt Alicia too? Sam seemed to think so and let him know at every turn. But, she was the ex-wife, wasn’t it in her job description to be nasty and bitter toward him?

“So, where are you going?” Sam asked him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“We’re going to the zoo,” Spike said after taking a minute to gather his thoughts. He smiled as Buffy beamed at him. Then frowned. “What is it, kitten?” he asked her.

“Didn’t you go last week to the zoo?” she asked.

Alicia furrowed her brow and shook her head, causing her curls to sway against her back. “No, Daddy took me to the fair.”

Buffy smiled down at her and then up at Spike, “That was nice of him.”

He felt himself start to blush. Him, William “Spike” Giles, was blushing. He said things that made her blush, not the other way around.

“Well, sweetheart, you’re in good hands here,” Sam told Alicia, directing that comment, Spike knew, to Buffy. He refrained from rolling his eyes. Love life aside, he did know how to take care of his daughter.

Sam and Alicia and hugged, and then Buffy and Sam hugged. Spike was beginning to feel like the odd man out when Alicia threw herself in his arms. “Thank you Daddy, for the surprise,” she said, beaming up at him.

He smiled and leaned down, pecking her nose. “You’re welcome, nibblet. Anything for my girl.”

Turning to Buffy who was chatting up Sam, Alicia tugged on Buffy’s hand. “Can we go now, Buffy?”

Buffy smiled down at her, and wrapped an arm about her shoulders. “Of course sweetness. Talk to you later, Sam.”

“You promise? You’ll come over for dinner with me and Ryan?”

Buffy nodded, “Promise.”

“Great. Talk to you later. Have fun, Leesha. Be good, okay?”

“I will,” Alicia called out as she drug Buffy away, “Bye, Mommy!”

“You know,” Sam’s voice stopped him from following Buffy and Alicia, “I like Buffy.”

He turned to her, “I like her too,” he said carefully.

“I think she’s a smart woman.”

“She is,” Spike said, nodding, wondering where this was heading.

“And I think the smartest thing she’s ever done is not give into you.”

And there it was -- the anvil.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. “She’s a good person with a kind heart, William. You ever hurt her and I’ll kick your ass.”

She left before he could say a word. Dumbstruck, he started to his car.

Chapter Seven



Ignorance is like a delicate flower: touch it and the bloom is gone.~Oscar Wilde



Spike could not stop laughing. He stood outside the pen where Buffy and Alicia were feeding the goats, and was laughing hysterically at them. One of the goats seemed to have decided to target his girls and would occasionally butt his head into their rear ends while they fed another goat. At first, the look on their faces had been priceless and he'd wished he'd had a camera to capture it, and now he was laughing right along with them.



Coming over, giggling, Buffy and Alicia exited the pen and Alicia immediately went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, something that never failed to warm his heart. "Daddy, did you see that goat?"



He smiled, "Couldn't miss it, baby."



"Why don't you go in there and get poked too?"



Buffy laughed, "Your Dad gets poked enough."



Spike shot her a look and Buffy grinned.



"You know what we haven't seen yet," Spike began casually, wrapping one arm around Alicia's shoulders and the other around Buffy's, "We haven't seen the snakes."



Both girls wrinkled their noses and Buffy visibly shuddered at the thought.



He nudged them along, steering them towards the 'Snake Pit' as it was aptly named. Walking along the ecotariums that housed many of the snakes, Alicia and Buffy cuddled closer to him. When they came across a particularly large boa constrictor hanging along a thick branch, Buffy shuddered and Alicia looked away.



"Not to be a wimp, but," Buffy looked up him, her green eyes pleading, "Can we skip the snakes?"



He grinned devilishly, "Why would I want to do that when I have my two best girls cuddling up to me for protection?"



She gave him a weary look and he acquiesced. "How about some lunch, ladies?"



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


"She's so much like you," Buffy noted later that day as she and Spike sat together on a park bench with ice cream cones, watching Alicia on the swings chatting up the kids around her.



"Good thing or a bad thing?"



"Well, look at her. The way she'll just talk to anyone. Though, she does have Sam's attitude, so she won't take crap off anyone."



"You saying I take crap off people?"



She looked at him, "You do remember Harmony, right?"



He groaned, "I have a vague recollection of that yeah."



"My, how your tune has changed from 'I miss her' to 'vague recollection'."



"Well, it's not like I can't still get laid."



"That was the big picture by William Giles," Buffy said, adopting a broadcaster's voice and then glared at him.



"Okay, listen, that was a joke," Spike said and nudged her with his elbow.



"Or not so much a joke since you lied to me in order to prove that theory last night," Buffy said quietly.



Spike sobered immediately. "Buffy, I really am sor-"



"Please don't. You've apologized more than enough already."



"I'm a bastard."



"Yep."



"A wanker."



"Yep."



"A stupid, sodding ponce."



"Yep."



"Feel free to disagree with me at any time, Buffy."



She smiled cheekily, "I will when you say something that I disagree with."



Their eyes met and held, as did Spike's breath. God, she was gorgeous. An angel, really, and he didn't mind telling her just that.



She shook her head, "I'm not an angel. I'm a mere mortal."

"Alicia loves you, Sam loves you. . . She’s the devil, Buffy and the devil even loves you. You are an angel."



Buffy cocked her head to the side and regarded him thoughtfully. "Do you love me?"



He nodded, "More than you know, Buffy. I meant what I said before; I need you."



She sighed and turned back to watching Alicia. "You don't need me."



"Buffy-"



"You need women in general, but not me specifically."



"That's not true," he shook his head. "I do need you. It hurts me to know you don't believe that."



"Well, it hurts me to know that it's true, so we're even."



"God, Buffy," he said vehemently, "Don't sodding say that to me-"



"Look, can we not do this now? We're at the zoo, we're having fun, most importantly, you're daughter is having fun. We'll save it for later, okay?"



He nodded dumbly and watched as she got up and tossed the rest of her ice cream in a nearby barrel. "Where are you going?"



She turned and answered. "To swing on the swings. Wanna push me?"



He nodded, tossed his own ice cream and bounded after her.



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

Looking in the rearview mirror of his black Volkswagon Passat, he spied Alicia cuddling up into Buffy's side as best she could while buckled in. She was whispering something in Buffy's ear and Spike was straining to hear above the radio Alicia insisted on having loud. How Buffy could hear her was beyond him.



A pop song that he didn't recognize - he never listened to that crap-came on the radio and Alicia's head popped up. "Daddy, can you turn it up more? I like this song."



Spike frowned, "Nibblet, I think it's loud enough."



She batted her long lashes at him and smiled sweetly. "Please? Mommy loves this song.”



“Oh well in that case,” Spike muttered.



Buffy kicked his seat and he reached for the dial.



“Daddy?”



“Yeah, pumpkin?”



“Mommy says that Madonna sings this song and that she must have met William too. Was she talking about you, Daddy?”



This should be good. “I don’t think so, Nib. Never met the woman.”



Alicia nodded and smiled. “Okay.”



I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before



I don't wanna hear, I don't wanna know
Please don't say you're sorry
I've heard it all before
And I can take care of myself
I don't wanna hear, I don't wanna know
Please don't say 'forgive me'
I've heard it all before
And I can't take it anymore

You're not half the man you think you are
Save your words because you've gone too far
I've listened to your lies and all your stories
You're not half the man you'd like to be



Jesus Christ. Sam actually said that – and Christ . . . was she right? Was he that guy? Those words sounded much like the one’s Buffy had thrown at him the night before and this morning and just actually, a couple hours ago.



Spike’s head popped up and he looked in the rearview mirror, his eyes landing on Buffy. She had a funny look on her face. She looked . . . sad. Oh God. She was thinking he was that guy. His heart started hammering in his chest.



I don't wanna hear, I don't wanna know
Please don't say you're sorry
I've heard it all before
And I can take care of myself
I don't wanna hear, I don't wanna know
Please don't say 'forgive me'
I've seen it all before
And I can't take it anymore

Don't explain yourself cause talk is cheap
There's more important things than hearing you speak
Mistake me cause I made it so convenient
Don't explain yourself, you'll never see

(Sorry, sorry, sorry)
I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before

I don't wanna hear, I don't wanna know
Please don't say you're sorry
I've heard it all before
And I can take care of myself
I don't wanna hear, I don't wanna know
Please don't say 'forgive me'
I've seen it all before
And I can't take it anymore

I don't wanna hear, I don't wanna know
Please don't say you're sorry
(Don't explain yourself cause talk is cheap)
I've heard it all before, And I can take care of myself
(There's more important things than hearing you speak)
I don't wanna hear, I don't wanna know
Please don't say 'forgive me'

I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before



He felt sick. He wanted to throw up.



He was that guy.



Looking in the mirror at Alicia’s pixie face, cuddled up into Buffy who was running her fingers through his little girl’s curls, Spike felt like weeping.



He couldn’t lose them. Ever.



*Song “Sorry” by Madonna*

One's real life is so often the life that one does not lead.~Oscar Wilde

"Spike, don't do something stupid," Buffy muttered as she tried desperately to keep up with a fuming Spike, who was currently storming to Sam's home with a deadly purpose.

Alicia was well ahead of them and running down her driveway, out of ear shot.

"Don't do something stupid?" he nearly barked at Buffy. "She says something like that in front of Alicia and thinks it's okay? I'm going to kill her!"

"Spike. Stop. You don't know that she did it on purpose. She could have been talking to herself and Alicia overheard or talking to Ryan and-"

Spike stopped and faced her. "Not the point. The point is my little girl thinks that I'm -"

"No. She asked you if it was you and you said it wasn't. End of story." She stepped back and studied him, wonderment passing over her features.

"What?" he snapped at her.

"You're feeling guilty."

He didn't say anything. Sure sign that it was true.

With a growl of frustration, he shook his head and started off, that was, until Buffy halted progress by grabbing his arm. She was not about to send him in there after a good day and ruin it for Alicia by him going into combat with Sam.

While she was all on board for not bad mouthing a child's parent to the child, she also knew that Sam, no matter how much she despised Spike, would not do that. Course, her barely veiled comment in front of her probably wasn't the best, either, but -- it was an accident; it had to be. Alicia loved her father, she truly did, and she just wished he spent more time with her. The little girl wanted to be able to talk to her father and tell him things - like the fact that she had a boyfriend; a testament to Buffy that kids today were growing up much too fast. But these were the things that were happening in Alicia's life and these were the things she wanted to be able to talk to her Dad about. And the only reason why Buffy knew all that was because Alicia had told her that in the car before the infamous song came on.

Buffy found it sad. Sad that she, whom Alicia barely saw, was the one other person besides her mother, that Alicia felt she could tell that too.

Spike needed that wake-up call, and, usually those wake up calls happened in a harsh and direct manner. It was just what he needed.

Thank you, Madonna.

"Don't go in there ready to go into battle with Sam. Take her aside, but don't-"

"Don't tell me how to treat Sam and handle my affairs, Buffy!"

Anger sparked within her, "That's your fucking problem, Spike. You don't know how to handle your affairs!" she hissed at him and stormed ahead of him this time.

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

Spike's day, that had been going well when the three of them had been in their own little bubble down at the zoo, had been great. He'd had a great time and now, now he could definitely say his day had gone to shit.

There was nothing like the process of self - analysis, of having that Eureka moment of 'Wow, I've really fucked up, haven't I?' And it's different when you have that moment on your own, when you do something that you think later was not in your best interests to have done. It's quite another though, when others bring it to your attention, either directly or indirectly. When you're apparently so far gone that others feel the need to tell you you're a fuck up, there's obviously a problem. His ex-wife was one thing, but Buffy and his daughter were quite another.

And Buffy was absolutely right. He was feeling guilty. Guilty and angry about his own actions; two things he did not deal well with in accordance to his own behavior. He was also annoyed that Buffy saw right through him as she did.

Storming past her, he entered the house with Buffy hot on his heels. Sam was standing there as Alicia excitedly told her about her day and then rushed off, needing to relieve herself.

"Spike-" Buffy started.

"So, Sam, we're in the car and this song comes on," Spike started immediately, "And it's a Madonna song."

Sam stared at him, expressionless, though recognition flickered in her eyes.

"And it's basically about a loser guy that breaks his promises and lies constantly and you know what Alicia asks me? She says to me, that Mommy said Madonna must have known William and is 'William you, Daddy?'"

"She overheard me talking to Ryan-" Sam started.

"What happened to not bad mouthing me in front of our daughter?" Spike demanded.

Sam glared at him, "I just said she overheard me. I have never bad-mouthed you to her, and I wouldn't. For some bizarre reason, that little girl worships the ground you walk on."

"Gee, thanks, that's great, Sam," Spike said sarcastically.

"She thinks you can do no wrong, aside from the fact that she can't talk to you about things and barely sees you-"

"She can talk to me about anything!"

"But she doesn't, does she?" Sam snapped. "And you, you don't get temper tantrums and grades and notes home from school. You don't get parent-teacher conferences and staying up all night because she's sick, you don't get to be the heavy because you're too busy getting her whatever the hell she wants! You don't act like a parent, William; you act like a sitcom father from the 50's. You're in, you're out and the Mom gets to deal with it all."

"You never like to give her to me for more than a weekend-"

"Because you're too busy whoring around to have her more than that!"

"Don't you dare start with that shit, Sam, you just love to punish me and use anything you can as an excuse-"

"Shut up!" Buffy shouted at the top of her lungs. When she had their attention, she continued calmly, "There is a little girl that can probably hear every word you're saying right now. Now is not the time to be airing your dirty laundry."

"She's right," Sam said and turned away, flinging a dishrag in the sink. "I'm going to check on her. Buffy, call me soon, okay? William? Get out."

"I want to say goodbye to my daughter," Spike hissed. "Leesha!" he shouted through the house, "I'm leaving, baby, come say good bye to your father!"

They could hear her coming, ever so quietly. Buffy looked up at Spike to gauge his reaction to that, the knowledge that his daughter had heard them shouting. It made her glad that he and Sam had split before Leesha had been old enough to have that damage done to her.

Buffy knew what it was like having both her parents at each other's throats. Then counseling came and they were able to fix their problems. She'd grown up in a house where there had been problems, yes, but that problems could be solved. Growing up with friends whose parents had divorced, she learned that not all problems could be fixed and that saddened her. Especially now as she watched Leesha come toward Spike almost fearfully.

"Bye Daddy," she said a few feet from her father.

"Can I have a hug, baby?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse from shouting.

She nodded and flew into his arms.

"I'll be back, okay? We'll go out and do something this weekend. Maybe you want to stay with me for a couple days? How's that sound?" Spike told her, hugging her tightly.

"Good," Alicia said, voice muffled by his jacket that she was pressed up against.

"Okay, nibblet. Have a good night."

She nodded and released him, flew to Buffy, hugged her and then ran up the stairs. It was clear that she did not want to stick around in case the yelling started again.

"Now will you please get out?" Sam asked, her tone cold.

"Gladly," Spike replied and stormed out.

Buffy looked over at Sam sadly, "I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam shook her head, and Buffy could tell that the woman was battling tears that she didn't want Spike to know about. "It's not your fault. Call me about dinner okay?"

"Sam, I-"

Sam held up her hand, halting her. "I don't know how you do it, Buffy. I just don't know," and she walked away, no doubt up to comfort her daughter.

Buffy sighed heavily and braced herself to face the storm that was Spike. "I don't know how I do it either anymore," Buffy murmured on her way out.

Man is a rational animal who always loses his temper when he is called upon to act in accordance with the dictates of reason.~Oscar Wilde

The car ride had been silent. Buffy had tried to talk to him upon entering the car and he'd told her "Not now, Buffy."

Once they'd arrived at his place, he'd stormed up to his room, and emerged a few minutes later as she was poking through the fridge to find something to snack on.

"I'm going out," he announced.

She turned to him, "What do you mean you're going out?"

He met her eyes, "I mean, I'm going out."

"Where?"

"For a drink."

"Spike-"

"Don't start, Buffy."

"You're blowing me off already." She let out an utterance of disgust, at herself, not at him. "I can't believe I fucking believed you," she said, shaking her head.

"Buffy, I'm going out for one drink-"

"Yeah, that's the way it always starts though, isn't it Spike? 'I went out for one drink and met this chick and etc., etc., etc."

"Buffy, I'm not going to meet any chick! God, I'm just going out for a sodding drink!"

"No, you're not. You know it and I know it. You just don't like that I know it."

"Buffy, I don't need this right now. I've had a bad day-"

"Yeah, and it's all about you isn't it?" she shouted.

"Yes, it is, isn't it!" he shouted back. "In order to get you out here I had to change my whole life-"

"Like your life was so fucking perfect to begin with, Spike! You didn't change anything! You had some slut here the first night I was here. You know what your problem is William? You're a fucking coward. This is just typical Spike. 'I can't face anything so I go run and hide. Find some stupid slut to bang for the night or to hook up with for the next few weeks, because I feel so rotten about myself on a daily basis, and while they're there they make me feel good about myself.' You're not a confident man. You're a coward. So, go. Go have your fun, I don't fucking care anymore what you do!"

"Buffy-"

"Go!" she screamed at him.

Glaring at her, he turned on heel and walked out the door, slamming the door behind him and rattling the walls in his wake.

She was shaking right along with the walls. Tears of frustration trailed down her cheeks. She was so angry and hurt and fed up. Stomping up to 'her room', she packed her things, wiping away tears that blurred her vision.

Once her things were packed, she stomped back down the stairs and walked out the door, slamming the door with as much force as he had. Running down the stairs, she stood on the sidewalk, the dark sky fitting her mood perfectly.

Now what? She could go to her aunt's, yet, she didn't know how to get there and she had no car. Not to mention she didn't really want to disturb them now, or have to explain what was going on.

Reaching into her purse she grabbed her cell and dialed information. "Hi, taxi services?" She'd just find a hotel to stay in for the night and decide what to do the next morning. At this point, she was done with California.

****************
Spike sat at the bar, the seedy, dark bar where he could go incognito for the most part, and downed another shot of Jack.

What a day. Nothing like getting it from all ends; fiirst Buffy, then Sam and then . . . Alicia. That hurt, the look on her face when she'd come down the stairs to say good- bye to him had hurt. And, as per usual when he was hurt, he got angry.

Alicia had never had to deal with he and Sam arguing. He'd been moved out of the house when Alicia had just been two months old. He and Sam had been on the outs long before that, and when he'd cheated on her, that had been the end of it all.

Buffy didn't know the whole story. Didn't know that the Sam she knew was not the same Sam he knew. The woman could be cold. Sam had been jealous when he'd started getting recognition for his acting. He was starting to go places and she hadn't been able to handle his success. She had been trying at the time to get her own career-- in marketing-- off the ground and had been hitting brick walls. The woman was competitive and when Spike's career had started taking off, Sam had started getting more and more distant and cold.

He'd wanted his wife there to take to parties to meet the agents and fellow actors he was starting to hob knob with, and she'd gone with him a few times, but then stopped, claiming she hated being in the spotlight like that.

So, he went without her.

And had an affair.

Stupid one night stand that he felt immensely guilty for - half for hurting Sam and half because he knew in his heart that he was not in love with Sam anymore. In fact, he wasn't sure if he had ever really been in love with her.

It was a mess with he and Sam, and he refused to take all the blame for their marriage ending, and really, it had been over long before that one-night stand. Sam had just never been able to accept that because the woman could not accept that she could be wrong about something. These were the things that Buffy didn't know much about because he never liked to dwell on it. Never liked to remember those times and how unsure of himself he'd been back then.

Where had his life gone to after that, he wasn't sure. Somewhere he took a wrong turn and now his life seemed to be about the next big thrill.

Sam was right on some things: He never got all the things that bonded parent and child the way Sam did. He never got the colds, the parent-teacher conferences, and all those other little things that were really big things in the grand scheme of it all.

He felt tears prick his eyes. He'd really made a mess of everything hadn't he? What if one day his Alicia told him that he wasn't half the man he thought he was? He'd have to say, she was right.

Buffy was right.

And Sam was right --when it came to Alicia at least.

He'd always thought that Sam was just jealous that he and Alicia had this wonderful relationship - but what kind of relationship was it, really? It was superficial, shallow. It was him taking her out for a good time and then dropping her off at home and letting Sam deal with the belly aches from too much candy.

It was him wanting to feel like the God they told him he was, riding the wave of love and adoration that was heaped on him. It could blind a person; make you think you were more than just human. Make you think that everyone could love you even when they didn't know the little things about you that made you unique.

Buffy knew though. She saw right through him, always. It both annoyed him and encouraged him. It was the annoyed part that ran, and the part that was afraid if she knew too much, she'd run from him.

Looking up at himself in the mirror that was across from him, he felt a wave of disgust wash over him. He'd gone from never wanting to lose Buffy to sitting here, without her. All because he was just as she said he was - a coward.

"Christ," he muttered, "What am I doing? What have I done?"

He'd hurt her. He'd angered her. Again.

He was going to have to make it up to her now.

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

Buffy thanked the driver for helping her inside the Marriott that was a few miles, as far as she could tell anyway, from Spike's and placed her things around her as she waited for someone to help check her in.

If she'd planned better, she would have whipped out her handy dandy cell phone and made calls all over, but she wasn't thinking quite clearly and merely asked the cab driver to drop her off at the nearest hotel. From there, she'd see what she could do.

Tapping her fingers on the desk, waiting, she wondered what Spike was doing. If he'd already taken up with someone over a bottle of Jack Daniels. If he was fucking them, telling them how special they were, how they were angels, telling them that he needed them . . . fighting back tears, she pondered what upset her more: The fact that he failed the gumption to face his demons, beat them back and change for the better, or, the fact that he was out there fucking someone that in long run meant nothing to him, would only make him feel worse later, which in turn made him run more and that he was saying all those same sweet things to someone else, which negated everything he ever said to her.

It hurt to know he'd never meant them.

She saw so much potential in him, knew he could be such a good man. She'd seen him be one with her own two eyes. She knew he could be a wonderful father, knew that if he just gave up what he thought he needed and instead focused on what he did need, his life would change for the better.

"Buffy?"

Turning her head, she spied a familiar man staring at her in question. She blinked, where did she know him, where did she ---

"It's Angel, from the plane? I gave you my card."

Her thoughts cleared, "Oh! I'm sorry, I'm just. . . " she looked around her at her suitcases and bags, "Frazzled. Currently very frazzled."

"Oh," he managed to look even more crestfallen, his big brown eyes saddening. "I thought maybe you'd - but I didn't see all the bags." He cleared his throat, "Sorry."

"I'm sorry, I've just been with my friend and I was going to call-" Who was she kidding? She hadn't planned on calling the nice man who'd wanted to take her out to dinner while they were both in town. She'd been focused on Spike, thinking she'd give him the same courtesy as he was supposed to have been bestowing upon her.

"It's okay, Buffy, I understand. What uh, what happened with your friend?"

"The long and short of it? He's an ass." She bit her lip, thinking fast. "If I get a room, would you want to still get dinner unless you're on your way out-"

He beamed at her. "I'd love to. I was going out. Alone. So, I'll wait with you?"

She smiled, "Please." Reaching into her purse, she pressed the button that sent her phone off. Out of sight, out of mind, she thought.

Yeah, right.

He knew the precise psychological moment when to say nothing. ~Oscar Wilde

"Buffy!" Spike shouted, tossing his keys on the living room table. Silence. "Buffy! I'm back and I'm alone, luv. Can you come out so I can talk to you?"

Silence still.

"Buffy?" he said, meekly this time. He had a bad feeling . . .

Heart thudding in his chest, he ran up the stairs two at a time and ran down the hall to her room.

She'd left. All her things were gone. She'd left him. And really, he couldn't blame her at all. Not after the way he'd taken off, not after hearing the stories of him going out for "one drink" It wasn't as if his word meant anything to her, why should it? How many times had he lied to her in the past twenty-four hours?

"Fuck!" he shouted and punched the door. When he wasn't so angry, he was sure that was going to hurt later. Reaching into his pocket, he dug out his cell and pushed redial. Her voice mail picked up. She’d shut off her phone.

Running down the stairs, he grabbed his keys and ran out the door, slamming it shut. Jogging down the hall, he rapped on elderly Miss Wilson's door.

She threw it open, scowling, her wrinkles deepening even more, "You quite done slamming doors young man? I don't care who you-"

"I'm sorry, Miss Wilson."

"You should be!"

"I am. I really am." And he truly was sorry for disturbing the frail, hunchbacked old lady. God, what else could he do to ruin more lives today? "Miss Wilson, I had a visitor come in last night-"

"The blond? The blond that was crying her eyes out while she lugged her suitcases out of here? That visitor?" Miss Wilson asked accusingly.

He nodded, God, he'd made Buffy cry. "Yes, that's the one. Did you happen to see if she got picked up by a cab or someone-"

"Cab. The Yellow Cab. Need the number? It's the service I use all the time-"

"I do, thank you."

Waddling away from him, Spike stood in the hall, almost patiently. For all the injustice he'd given poor Miss Wilson tonight, he didn't need to be rushing her.

Finally, she came back and handed him the number on a canary yellow post it. "Whatever it is you've done, you better make it up to her. She looks like a sweet girl."

Spike smiled, "She is. And she doesn't deserve the likes of me at all. Thank you, Miss Wilson."

Running outside and heading for his car, he dialed the number for the cab company. "Hi, I was wondering if you could tell me about a girl you picked up at my residence and where you might have dropped her . . . "

*****************
"This is so good!" Buffy exclaimed as she speared a piece of prime rib with her fork and shoveled it into her mouth.

She'd been able to get a room, just a floor above Angel's, and after she'd dropped her things off and freshened up a bit, they'd left to find a restaurant in which to have dinner at. Craving meat, Buffy and Angel had found a Longhorn and settled in for a nice, quiet dinner in the dim restaurant.

Angel smiled at her, "I'm glad you like it."

"Do you like yours?"

"I do. Want to try some mashed potatoes?"

"Yes, please. Would you like to try the sweet potato fries?"

"Definitely."

Laughing together like kids, they traded some food and tucked in again. Buffy hadn't been sure what inspired her to ask Angel out. She hated to think it was in some way to get Spike back, but yet that thought was there just in the back of her mind.

Not that it mattered to Spike anyway. She was done with him. She'd keep in contact with Sam and Alicia, but she could not stand to see Spike continue down the path he was on. She was done.

And if she kept telling herself that, she'd eventually believe it.

"So what exactly made your friend so much of an ass, you left his home?" Angel asked.

Buffy sighed, placed her fork down and reached for her white wine. Taking a contemplative sip, she regarded Angel thoughtfully. "I don't really want to talk about him right now. I'm having fun and the food is to die for. I don't want him to ruin it."

Angel nodded, "All right then. So, tell me, you interested in coming to the real estate convention with me tomorrow then?"

She shook her head, "No, I can honestly say I'm not interested in that," and she laughed, the effects of the wine beginning to take its toll. She was such a lightweight and she'd had a glass before dinner on an empty stomach . . .

"Fair enough," Angel smiled, "I don't blame you. If I didn't have to go, I wouldn't."

"Skip. Take the day off," she waved her hand dismissively. "Come out with me. We'll take in the sights together."

"In your room you were talking about leaving tomorrow-have you changed your mind?"

She shrugged, "Maybe." She smiled flirtatiously, "Or at least I might be persuaded to."

"Are you flirting with me, Miss Summers?"

"Maybe, what if I am?"

"I say continue, please," and he grinned. "Could I have another fry?"

"Only if you promise to split that-" and she pointed to a huge cherry cheesecake being served across the room, "with me."

"I promise."

"Make sure you can commit to that promise, I have experience with promises being broken quite quickly."

"I promise," he said with a firm nod.

"I'll hold you to that," she said, pointing at him, trying to look stern.

He chuckled, "Oh, I'm sure you will."

*****************
He hated using the "Do you know who I am?" bit, but it was effective when he needed information and fast. It was amazing what people would do for you once they realized you were famous.

She was gone, he'd realized after five minutes of knocking. He'd even stood out of the way of the peep hole, sure if she saw him, she would pretend to not be there.

Fine, he'd just wait for her in the lobby. It perplexed him - Where had she gone? She didn't know her way around well at all . . . and she wasn't much of an adventurer when she didn't know the area well.

Please come back, Buffy, he thought.

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

Spike was starting to fall asleep. His head lolled for a minute to the side when he heard it. The sound of her laughter. His eyes snapped open and focused on the scene before him.

Buffy was there and safe, laughing and - holding onto the big oaf's arm from the plane! Jumping up from his spot, Spike marched over and planted himself in their path.

Her smile dropped and she straightened, "How did you find me?"

He studied her closely, her cheeks were pink, her eyes slightly glassly. "Are you drunk?" he asked.

"How did you find me?" she repeated.

"This your friend?" Angel asked her.

Spike glared at him, his chest puffing out, "Do you know who I am, mate?"

Angel blinked and frowned, "No."

Buffy rolled her eyes and poked Spike in the chest. "I hate that line. It's so lame, William."

Spike scowled at her, "I don't rightly care at this particular moment. You want to tell me what's going on?"

"Not particularly, no," she said matter-of-factly. "I want," she took a deep breath, "I want you to go away and leave me alone."

Spike's heart broke and he shook his head, "I can't do that, Buffy."

"Yes, you can, you do it so well already!"

He met her eyes, "I'm not leaving until we talk."

"Well, then. I guess you better make yourself at home here in the lobby."

"Buffy, please-"

"Did you bring someone home? Or did you get rejected and came to me as an after thought?"

"Wrong on all accounts."

She snorted.

"Buffy-" he started.

“How did you find me?”

He looked at her, exasperated, “How many times you going to ask me that?”

“As many times as it takes until you answer me.”

“I talked to my next door neighbor, said she saw you leave. Saw the cab company—“

She waved her hand, “Okay, not that interested anymore.” She looked up at Angel. “Walk me to my room?”

“Over my dead body,” Spike growled.

She glared at him, “Who the hell do you think you are? Oh, wait, I know that answer already, but why don’t you tell Angel since he doesn’t seem to know.”

“Buffy, let’s go home,” Spike said, reaching for her.

“No,” she said and stepped away from him.

“Buffy,” he said through clenched teeth.

Angel stepped between them, “Sorry, man, the lady doesn’t want to go.”

Spike glared at him, “You’re not seriously thinking you’re going to step in between us are you?”

“Go home, Spike,” Buffy said over Angel’s shoulder. “You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not one of them, you can’t just tell me what to do and think I’ll do it. I’m done. Just go home.”

His heart constricted inside his chest. Did she really think – ? Fuck. Why wouldn’t she think she was just one of them? Hadn’t she been telling him she felt as though she were? Hadn’t he treated her like one of them? What had he done to make up what he did to her? Nothing. He’d run out on her. And even though he had made no plans when he’d gone out to hook up with anyone, how was she supposed to believe him? Trust in him?

“Buffy, please,” he begged softly, “Just talk to me.” He looked up at her and found her pixie face full of emotion. She was having an inner battle, he could tell. He could see she wanted to go to him and yet wanted to stand firm against him. He knew how to manipulate; knew how he could get her to cave.

But he wouldn’t do it.

“Will you talk to me tomorrow?” he asked softly.

She looked away from his gaze, “I don’t know.”

The idea that she was slipping through his fingers was threatening to suffocate him. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She said nothing, and wouldn’t look at him.

Taking a deep breath, he walked away on shaky legs. He’d call tomorrow. He’d give her, her space; he wouldn’t use charm to get her back. He’d leave it in her hands. He just prayed she would hear him out.

The truth is rarely pure and never simple.~Oscar Wilde

Spike lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep was pretty much not going to happen anytime soon. His mind wouldn’t shut off. He thought about everything from marrying Sam up to the present moment.

Glancing over at the clock, he groaned. Three a.m. He needed to get some rest, needed to see about a girl in the morning.

His gut clenched – had Buffy taken that oaf up to her room? Had she . . . slept with him? Was she sleeping with him right now? Reaching in the dark for his phone he quickly pushed redial and prayed she’d answer.

Voice mail. Her sweet voice came across with some generic message about leaving a number and all that rot, and Spike’s throat tightened. What if she never spoke to him again? Would he be destined to listen to her voice mail in years to come until she got tired of seeing his name pop up and then she’d change her phone number and – God. What if she did end up with Angel and he told her she was never to speak to him again? What if she ended up marrying the stupid sod and Spike spent years trying to talk to his sweet Buffy only to be told by Angel – “Do you know who Iam?”

He shut his eyes, “This is ridiculous,” he said to his empty room, “Buffy’s my best friend – or rather, was my best friend. She can go out with and date whomever she wants. This shouldn’t be bothering me so much.”

An image of her on Angel’s arm popped in his mind and he grabbed the pillow beside him and growled, flinging it across the room. There was no getting around it.

He was jealous.

The thought of another man touching Buffy sent his blood boiling. The thought of Buffy with another – laughing with them, hugging them…loving them -- made his heart ache.

“Don’t even think about it, mate,” he muttered and rolled over, willing himself to sleep.

**********

Buffy rolled over in bed, still awake. Her body was exhausted, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. After she’d thanked Angel for dinner and apologized for Spike’s behavior, she’d bid him good night. Graciously, he bid her good night as well and asked if she would have breakfast with him in the hotel dining room the next morning before his convention. She’d agreed.

Now of course, her mind turned to Spike—and didn’t it always? Something had been different tonight with him. Something had shifted between them. Oh there was the fact that he came after her – hunted her down really, though that hadn’t surprised her too much. Then there was the possessiveness he displayed with her in regards to Angel. He’d always been protective of her, which she found funny considering the kind of man he needed to protect her from was playboys like himself, but it hadn’t been that either.

He didn’t turn on his manipulative charm to get her to go with him. Instead, he let her go. Not that she wanted him to manipulate her into staying – au contraire – she was glad he hadn’t. She was sure with one more plead; she would have gone with him for no other reason than the fact that she hated to see him in pain.

And, it hadn’t just been between them that the shift had taken place, it had been in him. There wasn’t the swagger and confidence he usually had about him, there was a sadness in him, a resignation . . . desperation and a determination for something other than where his fun was coming next.

Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was 3:30 a.m. Picking up her phone, she flipped it open and realized she hadn’t turned it back on. Pressing on the ‘on’ button, it was brought to life and immediately “Two Missed Calls” came up. She knew without checking that it was Spike. Curious though, she wanted to check the times. The first one had been around the time she’d checked in to the hotel. The second one had just been a half an hour before.

She was tempted to call, to see what he had to say, but she couldn’t. She had to be strong.

Rolling over and clear to the other side of the bed, she shut her eyes and prayed for sleep.

**************************
“So, you didn’t want to talk about it last night, but can I ask about it this morning?” Angel asked as he handed Buffy a blueberry muffin after she’d reached for it.

She made a face, “I guess.”

“Okay, well, I’ve got to ask—who is he? He acted like I should know and—“

“’Vampire Chronicles’, ever see that show?”

Angel chewed thoughtfully. She knew the moment he figured it out because his face lit up and then he screwed his brows together, “That was William Giles?”

“The one and only,” Buffy said dryly. “Thank God,” she added.

“I’ve only seen the show a few times. My niece has a crush on him.”

“How old is your niece?”

“Seventeen.”

“You can let her know that there’s hope.”

Angel stared at her, “What do you mean?”

Buffy shook her head, “Nothing, nevermind.”

“So, can you still tell me what’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing is going on with us two.”

Angel rose a brow, “Is that what the problem is? Do you want there to be a going on with you two?”

Buffy stared at Angel, pondering that question. It was a loaded question filled with implications she was not ready for should she choose to venture on an answer. She knew there were things there, she knew she had feelings for him, but did she want to necessarily explore what said feelings were exactly? Was she ready to put a name to any of them? Could she put a name to any of them and have them not be in vain?

The answer to those questions was a resounding no, with a ‘way’. So, no way.

“Okay, I can see you don’t want to answer that,” Angel said, “I’m sorry I asked,” he finished on a mutter.

“I’m sorry. It’s just complicated.”

“I’ll say.”

“I led you on, didn’t I?” she asked guiltily.

He shook his head, “No, not really, Buffy. I knew last night when you and William Giles were going at it that I didn’t have a shot in hell. And, well, let’s be real. I live in Chicago, you live in Boston. If anything, it would have been a fling and well . . . what’s the point. I mean aside from some fun with no strings, but – and why am I saying no to this again?”

She laughed, “Because you’re a good guy, that’s why. And trust me, meeting a man that doesn’t just want a mindless fling is refreshing.”

“You know, I’ve learned a lot about William Giles by all that you’re not saying. I love my niece and honestly, I don’t want to burst her bubble that the man she believes herself in love with, is actually an ass. I kind of want to keep her in the dark about all that and let her have her fantasies.”

“Is that healthy though? If someone clings to only fantasies, how do they handle the truth when it’s forced in front of them?”

“Ah, but if reality can never touch them – if they can remain blissfully ignorant because the truth is so far from their doorstep, then why not let them indulge in that fantasy. Right now, she’s got the perfect model in her head of what she thinks is the perfect guy.”

“So, it’s a lovely model she’s got her mind. A model that she can impose on any ‘real’ man that comes around.”

Angel nodded, “Right. So if say, in her mind, William Giles is romantic, then the ultimate ‘mate’ she’s looking for is romantic.”

“Okay, I see what you’re saying but, what if some great guy comes along that is lacking romance. What if he possesses all the other stuff she’s looking for, but that one, or, or there are a few other ideals he’s lacking – could she be in danger of letting something potentially great go because she was lost in her fantasy and clinging to that one ideal that can never be?”

“Or maybe that one great guy was just great for a while, but the one she’s meant to be with embodies all that she desires.”

“No one can embody all that you desire, it’s just not possible.”

“I’ll give you that. Buffy . . . what has he done to you?”

Buffy shook her head slowly and sighed, “Nothing and everything.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“I know.”

“Do you . . . have feelings for him?”

She said nothing.

“That answered that,” Angel said on a sigh. “Is that what it’s all about? Is that why you’re so upset with him?”

She had the sudden urge to cry.

“Buffy?”

She looked up at him, still saying nothing.

“I can’t imagine you having a bad boy fetish for some reason. There must be something redeemable about him.”

She nodded, “There is. More than I think he realizes right now. More than I’ve made him think at this point.”

“So. . . it wouldn’t be too far off to tell my niece he’s really a good guy?”

Buffy smiled wearily, “Not, not too far off at all.”

In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it. ~ Oscar Wilde

Settling down on her bed, she stared at her phone. Spike hadn’t called yet. Should she call him? Or wait? She just didn’t know anymore.

Her thoughts were in turmoil. Had she gone too far? Had she put her own jealousy too far ahead of the big picture? Was she just as guilty of narrowly looking at things?

However, then there was the way she felt in regards to Spike’s behavior. Jealousy due to undiscovered feelings aside, he had made her feel as if she was just not that important. He told her they were best friends, told her how much she meant to him, but then his actions had been disrespectful and uncaring. He hadn’t acted like a friend to her at all. She felt…disposable. As if she were interchangeable with all the women he came in contact with. And she had expressed to him that she didn’t want to come out to visit and be privy to his party/whoring lifestyle, and, she had told him she didn’t want him to feel the need to change it for her; which then prompted him to promise her that it would be just them spending time together. This was her vacation after all. Man, this was not relaxing in the least.

And, she was thinking that right about now, he thought of her as just another Sam. And that was a whole other thing. There was a big story she was missing there. She had a feeling she was missing chunks of their story. Neither one really discussed what had all transpired between them. They seemed to be unable to get past the bitterness they had toward each other to be able to speak honestly about it.

Not that it was any of her business to begin with anyway.

Her phone went off and she jumped a mile. Flipping it open, she saw that it was Spike. “Hi.”

“Hi, Buffy. How are you, luv?”

“I’m okay, how are you?”

He let out a long sigh. “I’m . . . not that great.”

“Spike?”

“Yeah, kitten?”

“Will you come over so we can talk?”

He let out a sigh of relief now, “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“Spike. . . “

“Yeah, baby?”

“I don’t hate you, I never have. I never would have stayed friends with you if I thought you were a bad person.”

“I know, Buffy. I thought I. . . I thought I’d lost you last night. Buffy…I know actions speak louder than words and my actions haven’t been the best as of late, but, God, the thought of losing you—“

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you . . . last night…?”

“No, I didn’t. Had no intention of it when I left, and I understand Buffy. You’ve been around long enough to hear the stories and know what it is I have done in similar situations. Do you believe me?”

“Can I say kind of?”

“You can,” he let out a small chuckle. “I understand.”

“I know I have no rights over you in that respect—“

“Buffy, did you . . . with Angel?”

“No.”

“I have no rights over you in that respect either, I just . . . needed to know.”

She nodded.

“You just nodded, didn’t you?” he asked, chuckling.

She laughed, and God, it felt so good to laugh, “Yes, I did. Will you come over now?”

“Try and stop me, kitten.”

*********

He made it to her within fifteen minutes. He was out the door as soon as they’d hung up. He had finally fallen into a restless sleep the night before and had done nothing but have dreams of Buffy and Angel pawing at each other.

He’d woken in a cold sweat each and every time.

Then, the last dream he had was of Buffy, holding him in her arms and telling him what a good man she thought he was. He felt such love radiating from her in that dream, felt it in his heart and it felt so real that he loathed waking up.

When he heard her voice on the phone, he wanted nothing more than to see her. And he was so afraid that she would say no, but when his angel had told him to come see her, he nearly wept with relief. He felt such a rush of emotion for her, emotions so strong they threatened to bring him to his knees.

Emotions he still was not ready to explore just yet.

So when she opened her door to him and threw her arms around him, he held on tight, squeezing her into him until he feared he’d break her.

“Spike,” she told him quietly, “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“I don’t either,” he replied.

“I just feel like . . . things have to change.”

“So do I, baby.”

“Do you, really?”

“Yes, I do, and I need you.”

“And I’m here. . . I just. . . I don’t know.”

“I know, baby, I know what you’re saying.”

“I’m glad you do because I don’t.”

He pulled back slightly and cupped her face in his hands. “You are my angel, Buffy. I mean that.”

Her eyes were filled with unshed tears as she gazed up at him, beginning to spill over, Spike wiped them away with his thumbs. “Don’t cry, Buffy, please.”

“I think I’m just overemotional.”

“I’m in touch with that emotion.”

She smiled warily and he hugged her again. “Let’s have that talk, okay?”

*********************
Settling down in a chair at the table in her room, Spike bid her to join him. She did, sitting across from him with her hands folded on the table. She looked like all business Buffy and he had to smile.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, “That there are some things you don’t know about Sam and I.”

Her eyes flew wide, “You’re going to tell me about that?”

He frowned slightly, “Yeah, I was. Why? Do you not want to hear about that? Do you think it’s inappropriate –“

“No, no not at all, I just . . . I just didn’t think you’d want to share. You’ve always just glossed over it before and I never asked too much because I didn’t want to pry –“

“Buffy, luv,” he said, and reached across the table to take her little hand in his, “You’re allowed to pry. You’re not . . . “

“Harmony? Or, ‘Ba ba black sheep’ girl?”

He nodded, “Right, you’re not them.”

She took a deep breath and pulled her hand out of his grasp, settling back. “Okay. I’m all ears.”

“Well, the history of Sam and I is complicated. Basically, you have two opposites that were too young and stupid and made poor choices.”

“Young and stupid seem to go hand-in-hand don’t they?”

He shrugged, “I suppose they do at that. But even when you’re young and stupid, you know that some things should not be done, and I knew back then that I never should have married Sam.”

She froze. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So, why did you?”

“I reckon that’s where the stupid part came in. Along with the insecure part.”

“You? Insecure?” she said, almost dryly. Spike wasn’t sure if she really meant that as a question or if she was being sarcastic. Probably, he decided, a little of both.

“Yeah, kitten, me insecure. You see, when I met Sam, I wasn’t much of anything. I was trying to make a name for myself, and at the time, making a name for myself in local theater.”

“I thought you guys met in college?”

“We did, but we were never anything then. Just acquaintances really. Some of her old mates were actors in college along with myself and that’s how we met. We never dated until a few years after school when I was doing local theater and getting bit parts – starving artist, let me tell you – and she was working as a receptionist for a marketing firm. Both of us out in the world not really doing what we wanted to be doing and feeling miserable because of it.”

“So, how did you meet up again?”

“Her firm had taken on the marketing for the theater at the time, trying to do a revival for the arts, and she got free tickets. She recognized me and came to see me after the show. Talking led to coffee which led to exchanging phone numbers and, before you knew it, we were dating.”

“Were you. . . happy with her then?”

“I was. . . content, I think. She looked after me, took care of me. We kind of relied on each other. Our careers were crap and we were unhappy, but we dreamt big. We’d sit and make plans and goals for ourselves, coming up with these plans and ideals for how our lives were going to be once we were doing what we both loved. Before long, those plans for our future included each other, but looking back on it now, I think that was a comfort thing, not necessarily a ‘love’ thing. But, as I said, young and stupid, neither of us really knew any better as we’d never had many relationships before that. Sam was my first.”

Now her eyes bugged, “Get out.”

Spike nodded, “She was. Buffy, I wasn’t much of anything back then. I was a nerd, I was in theater and I loved literature. Everyone assumed I was gay and so no one bothered. I had no confidence in myself really, and the only time I did was when I was on stage. Then I was someone else and not boring William Giles.”

“So, that’s why you hate that name so much.”

He smiled, “Yep, that’s why I hate that name so much.”

“Okay, so, then what? You got married?”

“Seemed like the natural next step, so yeah, we got married. Things were all right for a while. Kind of like . . . good friends with benefits? There wasn’t passion between us, but companionship, understanding and support. At least there was until I landed a part on a WB drama. Wasn’t a main character or anything, but it got me recognition. And Sam was the one that encouraged me try out for it. Though I think in her mind she didn’t think I would really get it.”

“So, you’re saying the support ended after that?”

“Yes. The part in this WB drama generated some nods and made me a couple of the ‘fresh’ and ‘up and coming’ stars as friends. They invited me out to their shin digs, and who was I to pass up the opportunity to get some more recognition? Maybe land another part? Of course I wanted to do it. This was what I had dreamt of, what Sam and I together had dreamt for me.”

“Only . . . “

“She wasn’t happy. She was jealous. I was moving ahead, on the cusp of something great and she had only managed to move up to secretary in her firm.”

“Oh.”

“So, she wasn’t as supportive anymore. She was cold, distant. Didn’t want to go out with me and I wanted her there. She was my wife, why wouldn’t I want her to share that part with me?”

“Did she evergo?”

“A few times, but then she just had excused to not go. First it was she didn’t like being on display—didn’t like having her picture taken and all that and I understood that, I really did, but then it got to be that she didn’t have anything to wear or that the parties were just stupid anyway. And yeah, for the most part, they were, but it was something I had to do. I had an in to doing what I love most, I had to take it. I was getting roles, I was getting noticed. I was getting recognition. Finally.”

Buffy nodded, “I get that. I would have went.”

His eyes lit up and he noted the blush that spread over her cheeks and the way she looked away from his gaze. “You would have?”

She nodded, shyly meeting his gaze. What was that all about then? “I would have supported you. I support your career, Spike.”

“I know you do, luv. That means a lot to me.”

“So, um, is that when things started to go downhill?”

Spike nodded, “Exactly then,” he said on a sigh. “She was jealous. Plain and simple. And it wasn’t that she was jealous of other women, she was jealous that I was succeeding. She became obsessed with it, though she denied she was. I tried to talk to her about it and I got the brush off, I was told I was being crazy and ridiculous. I knew our marriage was ending then, Buffy. It wasn’t that hard to figure out, but she was pregnant with Alicia at that point and I wanted to at least try to make it work for her.”

“Were you gone all the time? I mean, while Sam was pregnant?”

“No, not all the time. We’re talking a few nights during the week. I was home with her for the rest – at least when she wanted me there.”

“She had to have wanted you around to have conceived Alicia.”

“Oh well, Alicia was conceived during a moment when Sam wanted to convince me that she was not jealous of me and did want me there. The woman cannot admit she might be wrong about anything. She also can’t admit when something is not working and our marriage was not working. At all.”

“So when did you have the affair?”

He took a deep breath and stood, starting to pace. “I had done a job for another TV drama – this one on a CSI type show; it was on a major network – NBC, in a prime time slot too. I had been in a few episodes and we’d had a party after for it. I wanted Sam to come so I could show off Alicia. The cast had been tired of hearing me go on about my beautiful daughter and wanted to meet her already. Sam refused. She said she didn’t want them near Alicia – as if they would contaminate her or something. We started having a row about how I was a sell out and it just escalated with me saying a few choice words to her about being a failure in marketing and I left, angry. I had a few drinks, met a woman and she made me feel good. . . She paid attention to me. Flattered me.” He stopped and shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t getting any of that at home. Not anymore. It hit then. . . I never really loved Sam. I loved her as a person, but she’d made that too hard to do at that point.”

Silence fell and he gathered his thoughts, his mind going back to those days. He felt vulnerable and unsure of himself all over again. “Buffy, I don’t condone what I did to Sam. I don’t think ‘she was a bitch; ergo I had to have an affair.’ I regret what I did because I remember how it hurt her and I remember having to leave the house and Alicia behind.” He sighed heavily, “What happened after that, I don’t . . . I don’t know.”

He looked at her and found her watching him with an odd expression on her face. “Buffy?” he whispered.

She stood and crossed the room to him. Standing before him, she reached up and cupped the side of his face before wrapping her arms around him and hugging him.

“I think you needed that,” she told him softly.

His eyes welled up in tears and he held on to her tightly, allowing those tears to fall. He didn’t want her to see them, wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable in front of her, and if she knew the reason why he couldn’t let her go until he was done, she didn’t say.

Chapter Thirteen

We teach people how to remember, we never teach them how to grow. ~Oscar Wilde

“Spike?” she began, shifting in his arms.

“Mmmm?”

“I’m gonna say it again—“

“What?”

“I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

He detangled himself from her arms, and smiled, “Thanks, pet.”

“That doesn’t mean, however, that I want this . . . path you’re on to continue.”

He nodded, and then looked down at the floor, resignation clear on his features. “I know.”

“I just don’t think it’s healthy – for you or your career and especially Alicia. I mean, sooner or later it’s gonna catch up with you and…I think of when you’re gone—“

“Geez, thanks, pet. You’ve already got me dead? I’m not that old am I?”

“No, I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I just mean that one day it will happen. So, you’re gone and Alicia is going to be known as William “Spike” Giles’s daughter. And one day someone is interviewing her for whatever reason and they ask her what you were like. What you were really like. What her relationship with you was. You know, kind of like they do with Lisa Marie Presley? What do you want her to say? Do you want her to say how you were a great dad that she saw once in a while? That you took her out and showed her a good time, but aside from that, you weren’t really there and she never knew how to communicate with you? Or, do you want her to say that you were a great father that she had a great relationship with, and that she could talk to you about anything?
Spike, your career will always be noted and remembered. They’ll make biographies, they’ll have reruns of your show long after you’re dead and gone, but it’s not . . . tangible. Alicia will be here long after you’re gone. She’s your daughter. She’s your legacy that you will leave behind. She’s your blood. That is more real and more sacred than anything else. She is something to be nurtured and looked after—more than the ‘legacy’ you’ll leave behind as the wild man and actor. And that has nothing to with fame; it has to do with carrying on your memory, your name. You want Alicia to look back and think of you as this wonderful man, that I know you are, that did more than just provide what was essential. Someone that she loved and admired; someone that she could go to and talk to. Right now, she has Ryan. And while I think Ryan is a great man and a great step father, you’re her father, Spike. I don’t want her to gloss over you to get to Ryan.”

He stared at her, letting out a shuddering breath, “Jesus, you know where to hit where it hurts.”

“I’m sorry—“

“No, Buffy, don’t – Please don’t apologize.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say and, being so dramatic in saying, is that the Harmony’s and the Laura’s of the world will come and go, but Alicia, will always be your daughter and that’s not something to take lightly.”

Sitting on the bed, he nodded dumbly and sat, hands folded on his lap, contemplative. “I hated the look on her face yesterday when I called her down to say goodbye to me,” he finally said.

“Yeah, that was kind of bad. If you and Sam have done well thus far of keeping her in the semi-dark with your problems regarding each other, I imagine it was hard to hear.”

“Sam isn’t that great with keeping her issues with me quiet, Buffy,” Spike snorted. “Her veiled comments will start to have impact as Alicia gets older. What was Alicia telling you in the car?”

“Do you want me to tell you or do you want to ask her yourself?”

“I want you to tell me and then I want to ask her later.”

Buffy chuckled lightly, “Okay, well, brace yourself.”

“More blows to my character? What did she tell you?”

“She told me that she has a boyfriend—“

Spike jumped up, “A boyfriend? What!?”

Buffy looked up at him, amused. “Calm down, there, killer.”

“So, does the boy who I’m going to threaten have a name?”

“Josh.”

“Josh? What the hell kind of a name is that?”

“You want to go there with the names Spike.”

He grinned cheekily, “Smart bird.”

“Thank you.”

“So, what’s the deal with this guy huh? What’s he like? How is he her boyfriend?” He paled, “God, they’re not going on dates are they?”

Buffy laughed, “No. I think Sam would have told you that at least. I don’t think Alicia knows enough about the guy. They just play together—“

“Play what?” Spike asked, his eyes narrowing.

“House. Hopscotch. And, they go on the monkey bars together. Nothing too serious. Though, she could be breaking him in early with playing house.”

“Ha bloody ha.”

“She doesn’t know too much about him except that he said ‘you’re my girlfriend’ and she said ‘okay.’ And, well, he likes Pokemon, and Harry Potter…oh, and has a Gameboy and she said he’s ‘cute’. Okay, so maybe she does know some stuff about him.”

Spike shook his head slowly, “She knows more about this snot- nosed punk at ten years of age than I knew about Harmony and I’m thirty-nine.”

“Well, I think Harmony was into Pokemon.”

Spike started to laugh, “See? That’s what I love about you, Buffy. You are the only one I know that can tear me down and then bring me up again.”

She frowned, “I don’t think I like the idea of tearing you down. That’s not what I—“

He stepped forward and placed a finger on her lips. “I didn’t mean it like that. That came out wrong. I just meant that you keep me real. You don’t let my head get too big to get out the door. You ground me.” He sighed and dropped his finger. “You know me well. You know me almost too well and I have to be honest Buffy. It scares me.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because I don’t know that anyone really knows me.”

“Sam?”

Sitting back down beside her, he let out a heavy sigh, “Sam knew me then -- William, the ponce. The desperate guy who was looking to succeed, looking for an ‘in’. She knew a side of me, but not all of me. I’m not that same guy anymore. There’s a different me in there and it’s got some of William and more of ‘Spike’. Spike is the confidence man. It’s like Spike was always in there just clawing to get out, but William was too afraid to let that happen. So yeah, she knew William and started to see Spike. She hated Spike. Still does. The only ones that like Spike are . . . Well, you know. But, there’s still William in me, Buffy. He’s still in there, and he’s the one that takes Alicia out and the one you talk to all night –“

“No, I don’t think so.”

He looked at her, “Excuse me?”

“The man I know – you – I don’t get just one part of you. I don’t just get William and I don’t just get Spike. I get both. I don’t think you realize that, and I think, or I’d like to think, that’s because you feel safe with me? And because I, as you said, keep you grounded? So, you can give me them together. But the world gets Spike and Spike . . . he’s part of you, but he needs to be tamed a little bit I think.” She looked at him, “Do you think?”

Nodding, he reached over and took her hand in his. “Yeah, Buffy,” he said, letting out a breath of air, “I do. I really do.” He looked at her imploringly, “Will you help me?”

She smiled, “What do you think?”

It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you place the blame. ~ Oscar Wilde

A knock on the door interrupted there little pow-wow, and Spike was thankful for the reprieve. It wasn’t easy talking about things that he’d basically worked hard to repress. And, it wasn’t easy hearing things that he’d let his mind drift over on those moments of self –consciousness, but always attributed to his insecurities, and therefore dismissed. He’d done a lot of blaming for his actions – namely Sam in the conception of his fame, but he’d never taken any responsibility for those actions.

And really, why would one want to take responsibility for their actions when it was so easy to just place the blame elsewhere?

“Hi, Angel, I didn’t – what happened to the convention?”

Spike’s head snapped to the door where Buffy was currently greeting Angel. He stood, swaggering over, scar brow raised in a silent challenge as he came up behind Buffy.

“We broke for lunch and I really can’t stand any of the psycho’s there so I was wondering if you’d have lunch with me – “ his gaze fell on Spike and he straightened. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi,” Spike said, his tone anything but welcoming and inviting.

Angel looked down at Buffy, “So, uh, how are things going?”

Curious. Had Buffy been talking? He looked at her, “Yeah, Buffy how are things going?”

She gave him a look and then exited the room, shutting the door behind her, effectively shutting Spike out. He scowled at the door and planted himself in the middle of the room so the first thing she saw when she came back was him.

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

Angel’s eyes widened when Buffy shut the door behind her, and on Spike. “You think that’s wise?” he asked. “He might start asking you if you know who he is.”

Buffy started to giggle, “You have a wicked sense of humor, Angel.”

He shrugged and grinned, looking proud, “Thanks. I try. So, is it okay? I mean, was it hot and heavy in there?”

Now her eyes widened. “We weren’t—we were just talking – there wasn’t—“

“Buffy,” he said gently, his eyes lit with humor. “I meant were you engaged in a hot and heavy conversation? All complete with somberness and lots of nodding and saying ‘You’re right, you’re right, I know you’re right.”

She laughed, “Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

“Only the person saying ‘You’re right’ really ends up doing nothing.”

“Oh God, I hope that doesn’t happen.”

Angel shrugged, “It’s a process I hear. Hey, can I ask a question?”

“Lunch?”

He looked at her sheepishly, “Actually I was hoping to ask him if I could get an autograph for my niece.”

Buffy smiled, “Ask him. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Angel gave her a funny look. “You sure about that? Buffy, whatever it is you’re feeling for him, I think I can pretty much say from his behavior towards me, that he’s feeling the same way.”

She shook her head, “No, no, he doesn’t.”

“Buffy, in the short time I’ve known you, I’ve pegged you as a smart girl. Don’t make me take it back.”

She smiled, nervously. Grabbing his sleeve, she tugged on it, “Come on, let’s go ask him. And, maybe we could all do lunch?”

“Ah, Buffy, I don’t know about that—“

“I think it’d be fun. Spike and you will like each other once he’s done … doing whatever it is he’s doing.”

“I think that might entail peeing on you.”

She barked out a laugh and tugged on him again, opening the door.

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

Spike heard her laughter as she talked with the Great Forehead, and now he watched as she tugged him in her room by the sleeve. He narrowed his eyes at them, softening only slightly when Buffy smiled brilliantly at him. He always had been a sucker for her smile.

“Spike, Angel wants to ask you a favor.”

“Oh? This should be good.”

Angel looked at Buffy warily before directing his attention to Spike. “I was wondering if you’d sign something for me for my niece. Seems I got a clue and know who you are now.”

Spike’s tense gait relaxed. “Your niece you say? How old is she?”

“Seventeen. She’s a huge fan of the show. You’re all over her room.”

Spike couldn’t help but grin, “I am?”

Angel nodded and Spike caught Buffy giving him an ‘I know what you’re thinking’ look.

He held up his hands in surrender at her. “Not even going there, pet.”

“Right,” she balked.

He looked at her sternly, “Buffy, I was just thinking how nice it is to be ‘all over’ someone’s room.”

“This is where Buffy doesn’t say a word,” she told him and then implored Angel, “Do you have paper? If not, I think I have hotel paper in the desk.”

“Uh, yeah, hotel paper would be good,” Angel agreed.

Buffy went to grab the paper and Spike and Angel squared off. They stared at each other, sizing each other up. For Spike’s part it was taking a closer gander at the man that he believed was after Buffy’s affections – which somehow, made him his competitor. Was he good enough for Buffy? Did he measure up or was he . . . his shoulders sagged, or was he him?

For Angel, it was taking a gander at the celebrity that his niece loved, and checking for signs of the good Buffy saw in him. So far, aside from the apparent protectiveness he felt for Buffy, he wasn’t impressed. Anyone that had to resort to the ‘Do you know who I am?’ to get so-called respect, was apparently insecure.

Watching Angel as he took the paper from Buffy, he asked, “Your niece’s name?”

“Alicia.”

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

Buffy watched Spike closely over lunch, who had readily agreed to lunch with Angel and was now on the case of actually trying to convince Angel to have his niece take down the pictures she had of him ‘all over her room’.

Angel was looking at him as if he were crazy and didn’t seem to be buying – or was trying to reconcile the ‘confident’ Spike to the present uncomfortable Spike. She, herself, was trying to reconcile herself to it.

She wasn’t stupid; she knew the impact that was going to have as soon as Angel said his niece’s name. Spike had froze; in complete shock.

“Really?” she asked lightly, “That’s your niece’s name?” Buffy asked, thinking – he could just possibly looked up on any fan site what Spike’s daughter’s name was. It was crazy—probably not something Angel would do – but when your life becomes entangled with a celebrity you think of these things. So, Buffy’s first thought was if Angel had done just that to somehow get back at Spike for being so rude to him the night before, and for all that she had said at breakfast – or rather not said, but implied.

Angel had nodded slowly, the look on his face saying he thought that was a bizarre question. “Yeah, that’s her name, why? Is there something wrong with that name?”

“Not at all!” Buffy chirped, “It’s a pretty name. Maybe you want to spell it out for him?”

Spike had quietly snapped into action, adopting his ‘actor’ hat and signing the paper with a simple: To: Alicia Love: William “Spike” Giles.

Now, he was immersed in trying to win Angel over. “You don’t want your niece to have pictures up of me, not after I was so rude to you, do you?”

Angel sighed heavily, “Look, Spike or William, or whatever it is you go by—I’m not going to tell her anything about you except that you were a nice guy that signed a paper for her. That’s it. She has an image of you that I don’t want to burst for her. Kids these days don’t always have the best role models and she admires you.”

“She doesn’t admire me – not the way she should admire her mum or a Nobel Peace Prize winner—“ Spike balked.

“She does. She’s into acting, does a lot of plays and she thinks you’re a great actor. She admires your work and yeah, she thinks you’re ‘cute’ or ‘hot’, but she’s a teenage girl. She knows it’ll never happen, but it doesn’t stop her from wanting it to. We all need our fantasies to cling to. Reality can be a let down and I’m not going to let her down.”

Spike looked down at his plate, at the food he’d barely touched. “I’m sorry I was such a prick to you,” he said quietly.

Angel shrugged, “I’m over it. No skin off my back. Not anymore anyway. I like Buffy, and she seems to like you, so there’s got to be something decent in you.”

Spike smiled wryly, “Yeah, you’d think, wouldn’t you?”

No man is rich enough to buy back his past. ~ Oscar Wilde

As soon as Angel had left to get back to his convention, Buffy grabbed Spike’s arm and made him look at her. He could barely look at her.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I’m thinking I’m going to see Alicia,” he stated, dropping some bills on the table after insisting he pick up the tab for lunch.

“Are you okay?”

“Honestly, Buffy? No, I’m not.”

“Do you want to – talk?”

“Not right now. Now I want to see my daughter.”

Buffy nodded, “Okay.”

He stood, a man on a mission. He looked down at her, her eyes wide with concern. “Buffy, luv.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you come back? To my house, I mean?”

Her gaze softened and she nodded, “I will.”

“Do you need some help getting back?”

“No, I can manage. I’m just going to wait until Angel’s convention lets out and –“

“Buffy, if you need help getting back, I can do it. You don’t need Angel to do it,” he said, his tone tense.

“No, I want to tell him where I’m going, that’s all.”

He nodded, “Okay. See you at the house then.” And he fumbled with his keys, taking the house key off his set and handing it to her.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you,” she said and smiled tentatively, almost as if she wasn’t sure if she should.

He looked at her sadly, “Thank you, pet. I love you, too.”

She stood quickly, giving him a quick hug and he squeezed her into him tightly. “See you later, “he whispered huskily and took off.

*********

Spike drove at almost breakneck speed to get to his daughter, the need to see her near overwhelming.

He couldn’t get Angel’s voice out of his head telling him how his niece had pictures of him all over her room and how her name was the same as his beloved daughter.

It had hit him with the force of not a punch, but a two by four, in the gut hearing that.

His mind had gone from thinking how some fresh-faced girl adored him to thinking of his daughter. Thinking of her liking some actor, some guy like him that was. . . that was that guy. That would seduce and charm her, fuck her, and then leave her. Or keep her around for a while to stroke his ego, and then get tired of her and move on to the next, leaving her wondering what she’d done wrong to make him leave her.

What if his daughter became some of those needy one’s he’d taken up with who clearly needed love and attention as much he did, only they thought love was given only in the form of sex. He’d dismissed those, thinking them annoyingly clingy and much too needy for him – but my God, he was the same as them. What if Alicia found it difficult to communicate with men because of him? What if he totally fucked her up to be one of those needy girls who was looking for love in all the wrong places because all she really wanted, was the love of and attention of her Daddy.

It made him want to throw up. Made him think of all the other fathers of all the girls he’d taken up with. Did they hate him? Or did they overlook his age and his behavior because of his celebrity status? And what about after when he’d hurt them? Did they hate him then? Or still excuse his behavior because of his celebrity status?

If someone like him came sniffing around Alicia, he’d cripple the wanker.

There were girls out there that loved him for the image he presented on TV. The guy that would go to bat for the girl he loved, the guy that was a stand-up loyal and romantic guy. Was he any of those things? No. But those girls wanted him because of that ideal and when he met some of them. . . he acted like a stupid sod that couldn’t keep it in his pants.

How many hearts had he broken? And how many times had he given them a second thought after? How many had given themselves to him, some of them all innocence and purity, and he’d just taken them, taken what they had to offer and then never gave anything back.

What if that happened to Alicia? He was the very same guy he couldn’t stomach the thought of Alicia ever coming home with.

He had to fix things with his daughter and what better time to start than the present?

Pulling into the driveway, Spike pulled up behind Ryan’s SUV, cut the engine and hopped out. He jogged up to the door and rapped on it, plastering a wide smile on his face.

The door opened after Alicia had peered through the screen door and spotted him. She looked up at him, confused. “Dad?”

“That’s right, I am your Dad. Can I come in?”

She looked at him skeptically and stood aside to let him in. Reaching out, he ruffled her hair with one hand and took off his sunglasses with the other.

“Dad,” she whined, “You’re messing up my hair.” Reaching up she tried to smooth her now tousled locks while she gave him a dirty look.

“Since when do you care about your hair?” he asked, frowning.

“Since she turned nine,” Sam said, coming into the kitchen, arms folded.

Alicia froze, “You guys aren’t gonna fight again, are you?”

Fuck, Spike thought. “No, baby, we’re not going to fight again.”

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked. “Something happen?”

“No, nothing’s happened.” Except that my life is a fucking mess. “I just came by to find out if I could take Alicia out for dinner.”

“On a week day?” Alicia asked, “You never come by on a week day.”

That hurt, and it hurt because it was true. “I know, baby. But I’m here now and I want to take you out. As long as it’s okay with your mom here.”

“I can’t go now, Daddy.”

“Why not?”

“Hey, Leesha, you ready, pumpkin?” Ryan came jogging in, looking freshly showered and relaxed in his jogging pants and t-shirt. He couldn’t be any more different from Spike in appearance if he tried. The guy was tall and bulky—mostly all muscle. Sam had once described him as a ‘teddy bear’. He was dark haired and had kind warm brown eyes and olive skin. He smiled welcomingly at Spike “Hey, buddy, how are you?”

“Good,” Spike said tightly. He turned his attention back to Alicia. “Why can’t we go to dinner?”

“Because Ryan is taking me to the store to get some stuff,” she told him, almost exasperated as if he should know.

Spike stared at her, “What stuff?”

Alicia looked over at Sam, uncomfortable.

“William, it’s not a good time right now,” Sam said calmly, which surprised Spike. She was even being . . . nice. “Ryan promised to take her out to get some things for summer camp tomorrow.”

“I can take her out to get ‘stuff’--,” Spike said, his smile and joviality completely forced. He was sinking, sinking fast.

“Daddy, I can’t do it!” Alicia exclaimed, obviously frustrated. “You can’t help me get the ‘stuff.’”

Buffy’s voice came back, unbidden in his mind: “I don’t want her to gloss over you to get to Ryan.”

His boat was filling with water and no one was throwing him a bucket or a life jacket to get out of it. He felt like a right arse standing there. What did he expect? That he could swoop in just like that and everything would be ‘okay’. That he could take his daughter out for dinner and somehow that would align the universe again, heal all wounds, and suddenly be closer to her than ever?

No, she had ‘stuff’ to get. With Ryan.

He nodded, “Okay, I see.”

“I just need to get my shoes on Dad—I mean, Ryan,” Alicia said and ran up to her room.

Spike stood there, reeling.

“Sometimes she calls him that, it just comes out,” Sam said softly and looked up at her husband.

Ryan cleared his throat, “Well, uh, I’ll leave you guys alone,” and he left the room.

Spike looked at Sam, expressionless. “What kind of ‘stuff’ is she getting?”

“A card for her friend Josh. It’s his birthday tomorrow. What’s going on?” Sam asked. “Buffy put you up to this impromptu visit?”

“No. . . well . . . No.”

“Right, anyway, if you want to see Alicia during the week, I think it’d be best if you called first.”

“She’s ten and she has a busy schedule already?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, she does. She has Brownies and dance class once a week and, since your daughter is popular like you, she has friends that ask her to come over throughout the week. Plus, she seems interested in playing some baseball for the summer. She has things to do. If you call first and arrange—“

“I get it Samantha,” he snapped, “Don’t patronize me.”

“Then don’t just assume you can come over here and do whatever you want. The world does not bend to your will like you think it does.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to yell at her, to scream “I hate you, you nasty bitch”, but he didn’t. He said nothing. Instead, he spun on heel and pushed the door open, slamming it behind him.

He always prided himself on not being a crier. He was a man, a macho man that didn’t cry. Not even on TV, on TV, he was given eye drops to give that illusion of crying. However, this was the second time that day that William “Spike” Giles had cried.

A man's very highest moment is, I have no doubt at all, when he kneels in the dust, and beats his breast, and tells all the sins of his life. ~Oscar Wilde

Angel insisted on helping her, despite her protestations and assurances that she was thoroughly capable of lugging her things back to Spike’s. He told her that no one should have to ‘lug’ and therefore would help her.

It’d been a couple hours since Spike had left her to see Alicia, and Buffy was praying he was received well. She hoped Sam didn’t badger him too much and just accepted his spontaneous visit for what it was – at that moment—and let him spend some time with his daughter. Later, as Spike made more of a plan – and maybe it was just hopeful thinking on her part that there would be a plan – Sam, she hoped, would be accepting and understanding. The last thing Spike needed from her, especially now, was discouragement. That might make him turn tail and give up.

Buffy just hoped that she wasn’t hoping for more than Spike was ready to give at the moment. She hoped that this turnaround he wanted to do, stuck. She didn’t want it to be done just out of some guilt he felt the need to squelch for a week or two before he was back to his old ways. That wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved, but mostly, not fair to Alicia.

When she was unpacked – again—she had nothing to do but wait for Spike to return home. If he was out, she didn’t want to bother him by ‘checking up’ and seeing if he was indeed out with Alicia, though it was killing her to know. She supposed she could call Sam to find out, but knew that one simple question would snowball into several questions that were not her place to answer.

She decided to make herself a little dinner and watch some TV while she waited for Spike to return. Hopefully, he’d come back feeling renewed.

********

The phone ringing jarred Buffy awake. She blinked several times before reaching over onto the coffee table and hauling her cell phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“B-Buffy?” came a man’s voice over the phone.

“Hi, this is Rick. You know a Spike?”

She sat up, concern filling her, “Yeah, I do, what’s going on?”

“You might want to come and get him. I can’t let him leave like this.”

Buffy shut her eyes. Well, that gave her, her answer. Things had not gone well at all. “Your bar, you say?”

“Yes. It’s called Rick’s.”

She rolled her eyes, “And how long has he been there for, Rick?”

“Oh, maybe three or four hours now. I took his keys and told he had to give me a phone number or I’d call the cops to escort him home.”

Jesus. He had to be falling down drunk.

“Rick, can you just give me the address and I’ll be right over? Me and a taxi. Just don’t let him go anywhere.”

“I won’t. He’s nearly passed out anyway.”

Sighing heavily, she jotted down the address and called the ever faithful cab company. Her heart was breaking. Had it gone that bad? And what kind of trouble – aside from being drunk – had Spike gotten himself into?

Bursting through “Rick’s” she spied Spike at the bar, his forehead down on the bar, a forgotten shot of something in his hand. He was muttering to himself and every once in a while shouting.

Coming over, she placed a hand on his shoulder and he rolled his head to the side to see her standing there.

“Buffy! My Buffy!” he exclaimed and nearly fell off his stool to sloppily gather her in his arms.

He reeked of smoke and hard liquor combined with beer, and her instinct was to wrinkle her nose in disgust and keep him at arms length. So, she went with that instinct. Which, he did not take kindly to, since he then growled at her. He reached for her again, and she batted him away. “You reek of booze, Spike!”

He pouted, “My girl doesn’t want me.”

That was a loaded statement if she ever heard one. Ignoring that, she thanked Rick for calling – thankfully in his inebriated state, Spike had the presence of mind to remember her number. Taking him by the arm, she helped him walk steady, as steady as he could anyway, out the door and to the cab.

Once inside, he was slobbering his affection on her and she batted him away, once again, annoyed. “Spike! Back up off me.”

He looked at her, wounded, truly wounded. “You hate me too?”

Yeah, this was going to be fun. Reasoning with a drunk guy.

“Yes, I hate you so much I came to get you. I hate you so much I went back to the penthouse,” she said sarcastically, reaching across his lap to buckle him in.

He wove his fingers in her hair, and urged her up to face him. He gazed at her intently and her breath caught at the look on his face. Desire? Love? Both, maybe? She wasn’t sure, only that she’d never seen that look before.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Did you know that? Did you know that I love you, Buffy? I bet you didn’t know because I didn’t even know. I mean it, Buffy, I —“

She pulled back, taking his hands out of her hair. You have to be realistic here, Buffy, she told herself. “Mean that to the toothbrush when we get home, okay?” she said lightly and sat back, buckling herself in.

He looked away from her, staring out the dirty window, a light drizzle beginning to spew from the skies, and she felt at a loss as to what to do. There was no way she could have a rational discussion with him like this. Impossible.

“Spike?” she began carefully.

“Mmm?”

“Did you see Alicia?”

He nodded, still staring out the window. “She didn’t want me.”

“Did she say that?”

“She was going out with Ryan,” he said, disgusted.

“Did you talk to Sam?”

“She told me I had to call first in the future.”

Buffy sighed, she’d been afraid that would happen.

“I’m nothing but a bad, rude man, aren’t I?” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

“No, Spike –“

“I am,” he said sorrowfully, sounding much like a lost little boy.

Unbuckling her belt, she slid over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He moved swiftly to engulf her in his arms, burying his face in her neck and she felt his tears wet her neck. She sat there with him, stroking his hair, running her fingers through his curls and whispering soothing words of comfort until they reached his penthouse. And he clung to her, clung to her as if she was his port in a storm and, she realized, she might just be that.

********

He was quiet, not sullen, not sorrowful, but quiet and withdrawn by the time they’d reached ‘home’. He seemed in control of his faculties better, but did not want her out of his sight for very long it seemed. It dawned on her, as she handed him his toothbrush complete with cinnamon toothpaste, he wanted to be taken care of. He wanted to be tended to. Not just wanted; he needed it. No one cared about him this way; mostly they cared what they could get from him. The brutal truth was that it went the other way too: He only cared what he got from them, but not this kind of care. Not the giving up of himself to another; not the giving up of pretenses that he was a fully capable man that didn’t have times of vulnerability. He probably didn’t realize it, but she didn’t care, and she was probably wrong for reading into the actions of a drunk man, but she didn’t care about that either. She only knew that he needed her and she would stay by him for as long as he did, and hell, long after as well.

Her heart was in serious danger. She was plummeting fast, and while she was his life preserver for the moment, she had to selfishly wonder who was going to be her lifesaver.

Was it wrong, she pondered, to feel such a rush of affection for him while he was so vulnerable? Was it because he was vulnerable and therefore open to her; raw, exposed, needful? Was it her own selfish need to be needed that spurred and drove her own feelings? Were her feelings for him real, or was it all due to her drive to ‘fix’ and ‘repair’? She’d been friends with him for over a year, and she knew in the back of her mind that Spike somehow needed to be ‘fixed’, and that resonated with what she liked to call her ‘Wounded Bird Syndrome’. The desire to fix that which was broken, or rather, those that were broken.

Would he hate her if he knew that? Could she be accused of not accepting him as he was? His lifestyle was part of him, however, it’d been part of who he was since she’d known him, but, but, that was part of him, not who he was. Not the complete package. She saw beyond his confident swagger and leers, saw beyond his sexual exploits and conquests, saw beyond his acting career and his successes, and saw the man. And this vulnerability he was showing was the man exposed – open, cut, bleeding and raw. This, she felt, was beyond drunkenness.

“Buffy?” he called out in the dark to her when he was firmly ensconced in his bed, darkness covering them like a blanket.

She paused on her way to the door and turned. “Yeah?”

“Will you . . . stay? With me?”

“I am staying, Spike. In the guest room –“

“No, in here with me. Please.”

She said nothing, trying to ignore the desperation in his voice, the near begging quality to it.

“Please, Buffy. I need you.”

She hesitated still, feeling that word would come back to haunt her, and soon. When she heard him start his plea again, she agreed quickly saying, “Okay, I will.”

Crawling into bed beside him, he started to turn to gather her in his arms and she stopped him. “Stay there,” she whispered and instead wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her body up against his back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, clutching her hand and kissing her fingertips.

“You’re welcome.”

Now it seems to me that love of some kind is the only possible explanation of the extraordinary amount of suffering that there is in the world.~ Oscar Wilde

Spike woke slowly, not quite ready to be up yet, but needing to relieve himself. He wasn’t sure what time it was; only that it still had to be late considering it was still dark out. He could make Buffy out just slightly beside him, the creeping light from the hallway shedding just a smidge of illumination.

He’d turned since she’d crawled in with him, for now he was facing her and she was curled up on her side, a fist under the pillow, her head facing down. He smiled at her, feeling his heart swell inside him. Check that out, he thought sardonically, I’ve got a heart after all. And it belongs to Buffy said the voice in his head. Or was it his heart?

She let out a soft sigh and fidgeted a bit before settling down, this time her face pointing up at him. Leaning in, he softly, and quite quickly, kissed her lips and instantly wanted more. He held himself back though, he wouldn’t do that. He would not wake her up like some randy teenager wanting a poke. He didn’t want a poke. He just wanted Buffy. His mind started to drift, needing clarification on that and he quieted himself. Not now. Later. Later he’d figure it all out.

So, he got up, relieved himself and crawled back in bed with her, sliding his body closer so that he could feel her body heat. Not touching her, he watched her sleep, thinking this was the first time he’d been in bed with a woman in years and hadn’t touched them in some capacity. He watched her for a long time before sleep claimed him once more.

********

Buffy watched him sleep long after she’d awoken. The events and thoughts of the night before were forcing their way to the surface and she lay there, still, letting those ponderings flit through her mind.

He looked like a little boy when he slept. His features relaxed, his curls tousled, and his body calmed. Reaching out, she touched the side of his face gently and smiled softly when he seemed to sense her touch and moved his face as if to nuzzle her hand.

Slowly, she took her hand off his face and quietly, she climbed out of bed. She was on her way to the door when she stopped and turned. Creeping to the bed, she leaned over him and softly kissed the top of his head, freezing when he rolled over, again, as if sensing her.

Turning back, she crept out, closed his door behind her and went downstairs to call Willow.

“I need you,” she said as soon as Willow picked up.

********

“Wow,” was all Willow could say when Buffy finished telling her all that had happened since she arrived just a mere two days before. “You’re having one hell of a vacation aren’t you?”

“Not very relaxing to say the least, yeah,” Buffy replied. She’d come out on the deck attached to the living room, but kept the door open to listen for Spike.

“I’m not . . . I’m at a loss for words, here. I mean, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know what to do. I kind of feel that I should let Spike handle Sam and Alicia, but I also just want to talk to Sam because she might listen to me, yet I don’t want to make things worse—“

“How would you talking to Sam make things worse?”

“Because she’s going to think I put him up to all this. She’s going to think that it’s not really him, but me.”

“She’s going to think that you have feelings for him, maybe?” Willow supplied.

“My feelings for Spike have nothing to do with how I feel about his forging a better relationship with his daughter.”

“So, got you to admit that you have feelings for him.”

“Like that wasn’t painfully obvious,” Buffy muttered. “When did this happen, Wills?”

Willow sighed heavily, “Oh, God, Buffy, I don’t know. I think they’ve always been there on some level, but I think over the past few months they got stronger.”

“When he took up with Harmony.”

“Yeah, I think that’s about right. You hated her.”

“She can’t sing! She’s an idiot,” Buffy whispered loudly.

“That she is, but I think you were afraid that he was going to be with her for a while. She lasted longer than most didn’t she?”

“Wills, ‘lasting longer than most’ can mean anything from going past one night to a full month.”

“That’s what I mean. She lasted like two months.”

Buffy giggled, “How sad does that sound?”

Willow laughed in return, “Pretty sad.”

Buffy put her head in her hand and rubbed her temple. “I just don’t know what to say, what to feel.”

“You know what you feel.”

“I don’t even know. True testament to how fucked up I feel. One minute I’m sure I – I –“

“Love him?”

“And the next minute I’m thinking I don’t and it’s just . . . just. . . “

“Liking that he needs you?”

Buffy sat back in the chair and grumbled, “I hate you.”

Willow chuckled, “Yeah, because I know you so well. It’s so funny.”

“What is?”

“The both of you. You’ve got Spike who lives in the moment – moment to moment, always on the go, that’s what he does. Then there’s you who methodically plans everything and analyzes each and every situation thoroughly before doing anything.”

“So, are you saying that I need a little of him and he needs a little of me?”

“Yep, exactly. I think that’s what drew you two together in the first place.”

“No, what drew us together was Dawn and her obsession with him. Then, it was him wanting a piece and me not giving it to him.”

“And now look. Look where you are and look at what point you’re now in, in your relationship with him. Something kept you with him for this long.”

“My fear is it was that thing inside me that makes me want to help those in need. Which, is presumptuous of me, don’t you think? I mean, not everyone feels they need to be ‘saved’. Not everyone is a wounded bird.”

“Buffy, you didn’t stay friends with Spike for as long as you have because you felt he was nothing but a wounded bird. Do you really feel that way?”

“No, I don’t. It’s just the things I think about. You know those crazy things that pop up in my head. But I can say that in some way I knew that he was broken.”

“Yes, and he’s breaking right before your eyes now. Not then, but now. You can analyze this a thousand different ways Buffy, but the plain truth is, you and Spike became friends because you met, you talked, and you liked each other enough to keep in touch. Whatever you felt about Spike’s needs is not why you’ve stayed with him for as long as you have. You can try to convince yourself of that until you’re blue in the face, but it’s simply not the case and you know it. It’s just that now, when things have come to this drastic head, that thing inside you that told you he was somehow broken has come out with a vengeance. You love him Buffy, plain and simple. And he needs you right now and you are not one to deny him of that.”

“Buffy!”

Said man in question was shouting to her at the moment and Buffy jerked to a sitting position. “He’s awake and calling for me, I gotta go.”

“Just be careful, Buffy. I just worry what will happen when he’s ‘fixed’.”

Buffy laughed, “I could go so many places with that comment.”

Willow chuckled, “Oh, I’m sure you could. Just…”

“Be careful?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it might be too late for that. Call you later, bye.”

Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes. ~Oscar Wilde

Rushing up the stairs, after slipping her phone in her pocket, she burst through Spike’s room to find him still in bed, on his side, watching for her.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asked.

He pouted, “You left.”

She smiled softly, “Stop pouting.” Coming over, she sat down beside him on the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Like a marching band is inside my head. They’re really loud and they’re making my brain turn to mush.”

“Or. . . too much to drink,” she said lightly . “Water?”

Maneuvering himself to a sitting position, he grimaced, “Yeah, I think I need to hit the loo.”

She wrinkled her nose, “Are you gonna puke?”

“Let’s hope not.”

********

Meeting back in his room, she handed him Tylenol and water. “Do you want something to eat? Something greasy maybe?”

He turned green at the mere thought and Buffy had to giggle at the expression on his face.

“You trying to kill me?” he grumbled.

“No. Why don’t you lie down and get some—“

“Stay with me.”

“What?” she asked, blinking.

He set his glass down and looked up at her. “Will you stay with me? Please? I –I just want to talk. Or not. Just. . . whatever. Will you?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded, “Yeah, I will.”

Depositing her cell on his nightstand, she crawled back in bed and faced him. They lay there, staring at each other the mid-morning sun bursting through the shades at the corners, leaving the room dim, but not dark.

“Thank you for coming for me,” he whispered.

“You know I would do that for you,” she whispered back and reached out, pushing some errant curls back against his scalp.

Grasping her hand in his gently, he kept his eyes trained on her and kissed her fingertips. “Pet, I – I’m such a bloody fuck – up.”

“No, you’re—“

“Don’t say I’m not,” he groused. “You’ve been telling me that in all sorts of ways since you got here. You think it too.”

“I was angry with you,” she asserted.

“Yeah, you were angry with me because I’m such a bloody fuck – up!”

“No, Spike,” she said, starting to sit up.

Reaching out, he halted her movements. “Don’t. Look at me.”

Nodding, she lay back down, “You’re not a fuck up. You just . . . you’ve made poor choices that had some consequences you weren’t fully aware of until recently. I think you’ve always known your wild lifestyle had to catch up with you at some point, and I think you’ve always known that you weren’t exactly happy with your lifestyle. Maybe. . . Maybe Harmony hurt you more than you thought she would…it seems everything unraveled around that time.”

He shook his head slightly, as well as he could with his head on his pillow, “No. It wasn’t Harmony. I never cared for her that way. Not really anyway. She was. . . amusing at best. In an annoying kind of way. I don’t know what she was, really. She just was, if that makes any sense. She doted on me, I guess, and that’s what . . . that’s what I wanted. Thought I wanted. Thought I needed. But it wasn’t her that caused …this.” He met her eyes. “It was you.”

She made a face, “Gee, thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it to sound bad. It’s not bad. Well, I mean it’s not exactly pleasant, but if you didn’t come and basically put the bloody mirror up in front of my face, I never would have realized.” He shut his eyes and sighed, “I’ve made a lot of wrong bloody calls,” he murmured, and then opened his eyes, gazing at her intently. “How have you been able to stand me? How have you been able to be in my life and tolerate it?”

“Because I know the person you are inside. The real person you are inside,” she said simply.

He looked disbelieving. “How have you been able to see that?” he asked, incredulous.

“Because you show him to me. You’ve got a brain up there, William Giles,” she said, tapping his head lightly with her fingertips, “and a heart in there,” she said tapping his chest lightly. “You just hide them well at times. A lot of the time. You’ve never really let anyone in.”

“I let you in,” he whispered, his eyes ablaze with flooded emotion. “I let you in though.”

“Yeah, you have. Sometimes you still try to hide from me too.”

“Because it frightens me,” he said, averting his eyes from her, “frightens me how well you know me, see through me – and you’re still here. But I’m afraid to . . . . “ he was struggling to find the right words, “I’m afraid to show you all of me still because what if you hate what you see? What if you hate me and then leave me.” He shook his head, “I couldn’t stand that. I couldn’t—“

“Spike, stop. Look at me.”

He looked up at her, trembling—despite how he tried to hide it.

“I got a lot of you last night. I saw a lot of the things you needed and wanted without you even having to say a word. Just the fact that you wanted me by your side even if you were capable, though not perfectly, at getting yourself to bed. You felt alone last night, I know you did. You were upset by whatever happened over at Sam’s and you drank yourself into oblivion. Not the best way to cope with things, mind you, but you did it nonetheless. The fact that you wanted me to stay here with you—“

“I did need you,” he admitted hoarsely. “Buffy, I . . . I need you like I’ve never needed anyone. I’m a right wanker and I don’t deserve you. You’re so. . . good, an angel and I’m –“

“Spike no,” she cut him off, shaking her head, “I’m not an angel. I’m a human being that makes mistakes just like anyone else and I’m not always perfect at admitting when I’m wrong or doing anything about it when I know I am.”

“But you never would have done the things I’ve done – you never would have been a weekend mother. You wouldn’t whore yourself out to anything that moves and smiles in your direction just for the thrill of it all –“

“It doesn’t matter what I would or wouldn’t do—“

“Yes it does,” he said forcefully. “Because I’m dirt.”

“No, you’re not dirt. You’re feeling quite sorry for yourself and nursing quite a hangover, but you’re not dirt. I wouldn’t be friends with you, if you were dirt. I’d have turned tail a long time ago if I thought you were dirt. Spike, you have it in you to be the man you want to be, I know it. I’ve seen him. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, it matters now what you do.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, you do.”

“What do I do then?”

“I can’t give you all the answers. I will hold your hand, and I will stand by your side, but I won’t do the work for you. You have to do it.”

“I have to talk to Sam.”

“That’s a good first step.”

“And Alicia.”

“That’s another good step.”

“Can I tell you what happened yesterday now?”

She smiled, “Of course.”

If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life. ~Oscar Wilde

They’d fallen asleep again, Buffy, surprisingly, having nodded off first. Spike watched her, much like he had when he’d woken in the middle of the night. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but she was perfect in his eyes. It was her heart; her capacity for love and her extreme loyalty -- even when there were those undeserving of that loyalty and love.

Like say, him.

But she was right there, right by his side, taking care of him. Taking care of him. When had anyone taken care of him? And, when had he ever taken care of anyone? He and Sam hadn’t taken care of each other, that was for sure. When had he ever felt the urge to take care of someone—well someone that was not his daughter. And, well, he’d fucked that right up hadn’t he?

Christ. He was in love with Buffy.

The realization hit him not with the force and impact he thought it would; probably because he’d known all along, but had never wanted to admit it. Not for him, not because he was afraid of what he felt, but because of her. Because he was afraid that if she reciprocated those feelings, he’d somehow fuck up and lose her.

He needed her now. Needed her with him, to stay by his side and give that loving support she was so effortlessly giving him. And right now, she was literally by his side—but what happened when she left when her vacation was up? What would he do then? Who’d take care of him then? Who would keep him in check? Who would make sure he didn’t stray from the path he was making right now?

The answer was simple: The only one that was going to keep him on that path was himself. The only one that would make sure he didn’t stray was himself. He had to take care of himself; he’d have to keep himself in check.

And he could do it. He could. He had to. If he didn’t then. . . he’d never be worthy of her. But . . . could he ever have her? She lived on the east coast, he lived on the west. His heart though, his heart had known that all along and had never stopped. His heart knew what his head knew, but it kept right on going, kept right on beating, aching and striving for her.

What was a bloke to do? Surrender? Set her free? Indeed, what was a bloke to do?

********

Buffy was having an erotic dream. In her erotic dream, Spike was her lover and he was currently grinding himself against her center, her leg up over his hip, her center pressed against his hardness. He was hitting her cloth-covered pussy at just the right spot, right on her clit, so that everytime he undulated against her, electric shocks of pleasure coursed through her, bringing her closer and closer to completion.

His lips were on her neck, nibbling, sucking and kissing. His hands were under her shirt, cupping her breasts, flicking her nipples with the pads of his thumbs. He was moaning into her neck and trailing kisses up to her jaw and down to her mouth, which he claimed voraciously.

“Buffy, my love,” he breathed, his breath hot and creating goosebumps to form all over her body.

“Spike,” she murmured in response and ground herself harder against him, needing him, needing release. She didn’t want the pleasure to end and yet couldn’t stop herself from seeking the completion. She just wanted to make sure he was right there with her when she tumbled.

She claimed his lips, teasing his tongue with hers, reveling in his chase of it when she retreated it back into her mouth. She heard him growl, deep and low, and the sound sent shockwaves to her pussy.

God, that was hot.

Needing to breathe, she tore her mouth from his and moaned when his grinding came to a stop.

He was frozen and tense against her and God, she needed –

“Buffy.”

Her eyes snapped open and settled on cool, startled blue eyes. He was apologizing to her with his eyes. He was sorry. Why was he –

Because they’d been dreaming. It was a dream. All a dream.

Her body was aching, striving, reaching. . . she needed that release. She needed it badly, and she needed him to be the one that gave it to her.

Moving her hips so that her pussy brushed against his sweat-pant covered cock; he moaned and closed his eyes. He bit his bottom lip and his hands jutted out from underneath her shirt, and he stilled her, holding her firmly in his grasp. “What are you doing?” he manage to choke out.

“Spike, I . . . I need. . . “

“What, Buffy? What do you need?”

She moved her hips again, ignoring how tightly he was holding on to her, ignoring his signal for her to stop. She didn’t want to stop. She wasn’t fully awake; she was drunk on him, drunk on the feelings inside her swirling about, drunk on the need for release.

She swallowed hard, and searched his eyes, searched for his acceptance, his need and his desire.

He answered her by crashing his lips down on hers and toppling her. Her arms wrapped around him, her fingers diving into his hair, twining through his soft curls.

“I won’t take you,” he whispered into her mouth, “I won’t do it.”

She whimpered when his hand slipped inside her pajama bottoms and he started stroking her through her panties. “Spike,” she moaned, her head rolling back onto the pillow.

“I won’t,” he whispered again. “I’ll give you this, but I won’t take you.”

She was there. She arrived, shouting her pleasure to the heavens, bellowing his name. Bursts of color went off like fireworks behind her eyes and, just as soon as she’d gone up and off, she came down, crashing to Earth.

Crashing to reality.

Her eyes widened and she looked up at him in horror. “I’m sorry.”

Now his eyes widened, “Why? Why are you sorry?”

She shook her head, “I – I shouldn’t have done that. I was . . I came onto you!”

“Buffy,” he said gently, caressing her face with his non-sodden hand. “It’s okay, we came onto each other.”

Her eyes welled up in tears, “It’s not okay.”

She welled up even more at the apparent hurt in his eyes. “Why?” he asked softly, “Why was that bad?”

“Because I – I took advantage of you.”

He reared his head back slightly, looking at her as if he’d just realized she was there. “What? You’re saying you took advantage of me?”

“You’re upset and you have a hangover. You had a bad day yesterday and a bad night and—why are you laughing like that?”

Spike rolled off her, “Oh God, that’s . . . that’s irony. You’ve been helping me realize what a ‘man whore’ I’ve been and now you’re apologizing to the ‘man whore’ for doing what he does best—getting a woman off. Remember that I’m the one that takes advantage of the weak and needy?”

“You don’t have to make it sound so callous,” she bristled, sitting up and adjusting herself.

He looked over at her, “Didn’t like the ‘getting a woman off’ bit?”

She scowled at him and jumped off the bed, “No, I didn’t. But that’s fine. Because we can just pretend that that didn’t happen—“

“Oh, no Princess. It happened,” he told her firmly, rolling out of bed and still sporting an impressive erection. “It happened and there’s no going back. At least not for me there isn’t. That was. . . “he shook his head, “It was a bloody revelation, Buffy.”

“Of what?” she asked timidly, afraid of what he’d say. Afraid of what she felt, of what he felt, of the implications of it all.

He smiled, “You’ll see. I’m going to prove it to you, Buffy.”

“Prove what?”

“That I can be a good man. The man you deserve.”

“I know you’re a good man, I’ve been saying—“

He held up his hand, halting her. “No, I know you have been, but you haven’t seen me try. You’ve seen bits and pieces, snatches of the good man. I’m going to show you more of him. Make you see him all the time so there’s no doubt that I’d be good.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Good for what?”

“Good for you, Buffy. Good for you.” He sidled up to her, and she let him, she stood there and simply watched him, wondering what he was going to do.

He smiled tenderly at her and cupped the side of her face. “I’m going to make you love me.”

A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. ~Oscar Wilde

Buffy stared at him, unmoving. "What?"

"I'm going to make you love me," he declared again, apparently proud of himself for making such a declaration.

She shook her head and moved away from him, "No, that's not going to work."

He frowned, shoulders sagging, "Why not?"

"Because for one, I already do love you--"

"As a friend! You love me as a friend," he clarified, saying it almost as if the concept disgusted him.

Buffy for her part, fell silent for a minute and then shook her head again. "I don't want you to change for me, Spike. If you're going to change, it should be for you, for Alicia, not for anyone else--"

"It is for Alicia! And me, but. . . can't I hope that you could learn to love the man that I need to be?"

"I love you now!" she exclaimed, frustrated. "Why are you saying this? Where is this coming from?" she threw up her hands. "God, we just. . . dry humped on the bed and now you're. . . and I'm not. . .and I just don't get. . . what the hell is going on?"

"Buffy, you're head is going to explode--"

"I'm well aware, thank you!"

"Calm down, luv. Why don't you sit down with me--"

"I want to take a shower. I want to get dressed. I want to get out of this room. Okay?"

He nodded, "Okay, pet, that sounds like a good idea."

"Yes, it is a good idea. So I'm gonna . . . go do that." She felt completely out of her body. She felt as if she'd went to bed in the world where she knew where things were, how they worked and what they meant, and that she'd woken up to a whole new world where she didn't know where things were, how they worked or what they meant. All she knew was that she didn't know what the hell was going on all of a sudden and her raging hormonoes and Spike seemed to be the conductors of this little trip.

"Oh God," she whimpered to the empty bathroom once the door was shut behind her.

********

"I think," Buffy started as soon as she sat down on the couch after the both of them had showered and met in the living room.

"No, wait," Spike said, sitting down across from her on the coffee table. "I want to tell you what I think. The stupid sod that's gotten his ass kicked over the past couple days, and has been feeling sorry for himself would like to have the floor, if you don't mind."

Pursing her lips together, she nodded her acquiescence and sat back, waiting.

He met her eyes. "I love you, Buffy. I'm in love with you. I know that right now, I'm a pathetic excuse for a man, but I know that I can be that good man you talk so much of, so highly of. I know I have it in me to be one, despite the fact that I haven't felt like much of one. It's because of you, pet. Because you see it in me, because you want it for me that I know I can be that man. I want to be. For me, for Alicia, and yes, for you. I want to be worthy of Alicia calling me 'Daddy' and I want to be worthy to one day hear the words 'I love you' tumble from your lips. Can you say that maybe you'd one day want that too?"

She took a deep breath, "No."

He looked positively crestfallen, hurt and destroyed, "Why not?"

"Spike, I ... Okay, that sounded harsh and I apologize. It's the last thing you need to hear right now."

"On the contrary, I think I might absolutely have to hear this. Why stop being brutally honest with me now, Buffy?" he said, his tone bitter.

"Because I don't like being brutal," she snapped. "I don't like to hurt you though God knows you haven't much cared if you've hurt me."

He narrowed his eyes, "When?"

"Uh, how about the first night I was here?"

"I thought we'd moved on from that--"

"No, you hurt me!" she jumped up from the couch. "You accused me of acting like a jilted lover, remember? Of being jealous?"

His eyes widened with clarity as he looked up at her. "So you ..."

"Yes, I was jealous. I hated seeing that stupid bimbo in here and you ...touching her. I was jealous okay? That does not however, have anything to do with why I want you to change. And it should not have any bearing on why you should. It's just not healthy for you. Or Alicia. Or any possible relationship you could have in the future."

His expression fell to one of resolution, "You mean like now? Like us?"

"There is no us in regards to a relationship that is not friendship."

He stood, facing her, "Right. Because of what I've done."

She averted her eyes, looking down, "Yes." Looking back up at him, she took a deep breath. "Spike, I realize that it's maybe a little contradictory to say that I know you're a great man that has a lot to offer, but that I don't want it offered to me. And it's harsh of me to say that I love you, but I don't want to have a relationship with you, that I don't want to love you as more than a friend because I'm being selfish -- I'm afraid for my heart. You're not exactly known for being trustworthy in that respect and I . . . I just can't put my heart on the line like that Spike."

"Especially not since I haven't exactly been the best of friend to you since you got here."

Sighing heavily, she replied, "That is over. I can't keep throwing it in your face, but. . . yeah, it's an example. Spike, I feel things for you, I do. But I'm not . . . " she shook her head, frustrated. "I want to be here for you. I want to continue being your friend and I want to support you in the changes you want to make. You need me, I'm here. However. I don't want to be a crutch for you. I don't want you to put feelings on me that aren't really there because you're feeling vulnerable right now--"

"Buffy, stop," Spike implored her gently. Cupping the side of her face, he gazed at her tenderly, "I'm not 'putting' any feelings on you that haven't already been there. When I say I love you it's not because I want to get you in bed or because I need you to be here or I'll fall apart. When I say I love you, it's because I love everything about you. It has nothing to do with me, it's you. Yes, you do make me laugh and smile, you do ease my troubles and yes, you do take care of me and let me be vulnerable. You let me be me. You see something in me that no one has ever seen before. You're here despite what I've done. You've seen the best and the worst of me, and you're still here. That's ... God, Buffy, how could I not love you? You are my angel. You're so pure and--"

"Stop with the angel stuff, please," Buffy pleaded softly with a slight whine.

Clearing his throat, he nodded and dropped his hand. "Buffy, you mean everything to me and I haven't shown it well. I think partly because I was so afraid of what it meant. I've never been in love before, not like this. And I love you--"

She took a shuddering breath in, "Please, stop, Spike. Please. I just . . . I can't do this right now, okay? It's...so much right now. Too much and I can't wrap my mind around it--"

"Sssh," he murmured and pulled her into an embrace. "I'll stop. I'm sorry. I'm . . . a passionate guy, I guess. I'll stop. We'll just. . . "

"Just focus on what you're going to do regarding Alicia and Sam," she said firmly.

He nodded, "Yes, let's focus on that."

Breaking away, she moved back to the couch and sat down. "So, what did you have in mind for that?"

He smiled down at her, all business Buffy was back. God, he really did love her. And, he was going to find a way to make her trust him.

The man who says he has exhausted life generally means that life has exhausted him. ~Oscar Wilde

The plan was to talk to Sam. Tell her that he wanted to spend more time with Alicia and work out a schedule to do just that. Buffy, ever the optimist, believed that if he just presented it to Sam with a plan in mind, his ex-wife would comply.

That just reaffirmed to Spike that Buffy really did not know Sam well at all. He knew full well what was going to happen, and he was not looking forward to it. However, feeling Buffy’s presence by his side, her kind of Archangel Michael energy next to him, he felt he could tackle anything.

And he would.

He had a plan, too. He wanted Alicia on the weekends and he’d take charge of driving her to a friend’s home if she made such plans, taking her to any activity she had planned, and would even be willing to work around Sam and Ryan’s schedule – as long as they were willing to work around his as well. And, through the week, he wanted to be able to take her out at least twice a week -- schedule permitting for both of them. He knew that once work started up again, he’d be stressed for time, but that it wouldn’t be all work and no play, and he would make the arrangements he could to see her. Also, he was going to turn his guest room into her room. He’d make a day of it and take her out shopping to decorate it as she wanted. He figured if he went into being as pliant and willing to compromise as much as possible with Sam -- and Alicia-- it would make things easier.

"It'll be fine, Spike,” Buffy told him the next morning as they headed toward Sam’s.

The idea was that Buffy would keep Alicia distracted so that he could have time alone with Sam. He did not want a repeat of his daughter having to witness he and Sam having a row, and well, he knew that it was impossible to think it wouldn’t happen. He had a temper, Sam had a temper and putting them together in the same room to discuss Alicia and his parenting was bound to cause some raised voices.

“I ever tell you how your eternal optimism is at once refreshing and annoying?” he told her dryly.

She gave him a look and shrugged, “Oh well. Get used to it.”

Reaching out he took her hand in his, ignoring how she tensed and tried to pull away. He squeezed her hand gently and let it go, not wanting to make her uncomfortable or read into his actions. Not yet anyway. Getting her to trust him and love him in the way that he wanted her to would take time, and he wanted to make sure to give her that time. For now anyway. He was learning that he had to tackle one problem at a time and currently, that problem was Sam.

Not that Buffy was a problem he had to tackle, more like a woman he had to seduce. However, he was not seducing her in his usual employed methods. No, he had to seduce her mind and her heart, not her body. Her body, he knew from the previous morning, wanted him. And, he knew that her heart wanted him to an extent too, but he had to earn her trust in order to win her love and sway her mind that he wasn’t looking for a quick fix to his problems, wasn’t relying on her for support – though, truthfully, he was. To an extent.

It wasn’t all black and white, that was for sure. There were so many grays and it was messy and it was all over the place and . . . God, he was exhausted from it all. His body had yet to catch up with his mind. It was exhausting making changes in your life. It was exhausting just coming to the realization of it and then actually doing something about it took a lot out of a person.

“Thank you, pet,” he said calmly, belying the tension that was starting to unfurl in his stomach, causing him to feel slightly nauseous.

He felt her eyes on him, studying him closely and he looked at her blankly, waiting.

“Spike,” she began, “I know it’s going to be hard, I know that. I know that Sam will be resistant at first probably—“

“Probably?” he nearly squeaked out. “Try bloody likely.”

“Okay, but don’t let her deter you from what you want to do. You know what to expect, so don’t let her sway you or put doubt in your mind about your abilities as a father.”

“Buffy, you forget that Sam doesn’t have to put those doubts in my mind. They’re already there.”

“So then this is your challenge. Can you do it or will you throw in the towel when the going gets tough?”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “They teach you this stuff in real estate school or something?”

She smiled, “Yeah, they do. You know my competitor?”

“Finn,” Spike snarled.

“Right, Riley. So, there are days when he’s ahead of me and I feel . . . worthless. Like I suck at my job, even though I know I’m good at it. I think I want to give up and that I’ll never be as good as he is. And, it doesn’t help that he likes to rub it in my face. But you know what?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

She smacked him lightly on the arm, “He doesn’t realize it, but when he rubs it in my face like that, he throws the gauntlet down. I take up the challenge because I cannot let him win. It’s the same thing with you and Sam. You love Alicia and you know she loves you. You know that you can take care of her the way you want to care of her, that you can do all the things that Sam does. Along the way, you let Sam convince you that you couldn’t—“

“She’s not all guilty, Buffy. I had a hand in all that too.”

“Oh, yes, you did. I know you did. But as long as Sam was there to make digs about your parental abilities, you got it in your head that she was right, so you felt you didn’t have to try. It’s like the person that is told their whole life they’re a fuck up. If someone is told that enough, they believe it to be true and don’t try for anything anymore. They figure, what’s the point? They’re just going to fuck it up anyway.”

“You’re really good at this, pet.”

She shrugged, “Maybe you didn’t know it, but I study you closely.”

He looked at her, smirking, “That so?”

She nodded, looking away from him and out the window. “Yep.”

He let that lie and silence fell until they pulled into Sam’s driveway.

Putting the car in park and shutting off the engine, Spike took a deep breath to calm himself. Buffy placed her hand on his arm, and he looked at her, knowing she was imploring him to do so.

“You can do this. Think of Alicia and the relationship you want to have with her,” she told him.

“And remember to be an adult, right?”

“Right.”

Climbing out of the car, they made their way to the door to find Sam standing there, arms folded across her chest, staring at them. She was studying Spike closely, eyes narrowed suspiciously, her mouth turned down into a frown. “What’s going on?”

Spike took a deep breath, “I want to speak with you.”

“About?”

“Alicia.”

“What about her?”

“I want to spend more time with her. I want to work out a plan with you.”

She raised a brow and then did something he hadn’t expected. She laughed. Hard.

Oh yeah, this was going to go well.

Be yourself; everyone else is already taken. ~Oscar Wilde


Buffy had expected something like that. Something like that, but not that, not a full out belly laugh. It angered her, ruffled her feathers, but it made her downright pissed when she saw the look on Spike's face - completely crestfallen - and then spotted Alicia coming up behind her mother.

She blinked at her father and looked up at her mother. "What's going on?" she asked innocently.

Sam's laughter died on a soft sigh and she looked down at her daughter, straightening and pulling herself together. "Nothing, sweetie. Daddy was just telling me a joke, that's all."

Buffy bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming at Sam. Instead, she settled on glaring at her, and then directing her attention to Sam with a loving smile. "Hey, Leesha, want to go for a ride with me?" She looked at Sam directly in the eye, letting the woman who she once thought was a nice person and a good friend, that she was on Spike's side here and that she meant business.

Sam met her eyes with a slight glare and a raised brow.

"If that's okay with your mom, of course," Buffy added.

Sam eyed her for a minute before conceding with a nod of her head. "Sure, that's fine."

"Thank you," Buffy said, and meant that. "Why don't you get what you need hon? We'll go to the park, maybe get some lunch if you haven't eaten? Sound good?"

Leesha nodded excitedly and bounded off.

Sam came out of the house forcefully, glaring at them both as she stood there on the stoop. "What the hell is this?" she demanded.

Buffy opened her mouth to say something, but Spike held up a hand, seeming to have anticipated she would step in.

"I told you, I want to talk to you about Alicia and spending some more time with her," Spike said calmly. Buffy was surprised by the level of calmness and the not backing down he was exhibiting. She was so proud of him. However, she had to keep herself in check and not jump the gun just yet. There was still a lot of ground to cover first, but on that first step, she was proud.

Pursing her lips together, Sam looked at Buffy. "So, you have something to do with this?"

Buffy opened her mouth yet again to retort, and Spike held up his hand again. "No, she didn't. This is me Sam, all me. Can we talk, please? Like adults?"

Clenching her jaw, Sam nodded briskly, "Fine. Come in." She entered the house, leaving Spike and Buffy nothing to do but follow.

Buffy looked at him, "Spike-"

"It's okay, pet. I can do it. She's a dragon, but there's a reason for it. I don't take full responsibility, but I take most of it. I know what I've done and I'm getting what I deserve."

She stared at him, awe settling over her. "Wow."

He grinned, "That sounded all adult-like and profound didn't it?"

She swatted him playfully, giggling, "It did. Do you believe what you just said?"

He nodded, turning solemn, "How could I not? These last few days have been a bloody revelation, Buffy. I'm holding the mirror up to my face and seeing what I've done, what I've become. And not just to Alicia, but to the ones I love." He reached out and caressed the side of her face, "Like you."

She took his hand from her face and squeezed it, smiling gently. "Kind of like The Picture of Dorian Gray?"

He nodded, "Yep. But, I want to make that picture beautiful, make it into a good man, not a dastardly one."

"Are you coming in or what?" Sam nearly barked from the screen door.

"Ah, the fire breathing dragon awaits," Spike mused just as Alicia came bounding out of the house, a blue camouflage backpack over her shoulder.

"Are we all going together?" Alicia asked carefully, eyeing her father.

Spike smiled warmly, "No, bit. You're gonna go with Buffy and I'm gonna stay here and talk to your mum okay?"

Alicia stared at him warily, "You are?"

Spike nodded, "I am."

"Are you gonna fight again?"

Spike shook his head, "No baby, we're not gonna fight again. We're just going to talk."

"About what?"

"You. How do you feel about seeing your old man some more than just on the weekends?"

Alicia's eyes widened and then narrowed, "You want to see me more?"

"I sure do, Bit."

"Why?"

That had to hurt, and Buffy could tell it had by the expression on Spike's face.

"Because I love you, Alicia. You're my daughter."

Alicia shrugged, "Yeah, but you never wanted to see more than the weekends."

"Well, I do now. Would you like that? Would you like to see me more? Would you like to make a room for yourself to stay in at my penthouse? A room just for you that you can decorate."

Alicia smiled, "That sounds like fun."

"And during the week maybe you and I could have dinner a couple times during the week. Catch up on things. You can tell me about your week and I can tell you about mine."

"We've never talked about stuff like that before," Alicia said honestly.

"Doesn't mean we can't start."

"But what if I'm going to a friends house?"

"We'll work around it. Do you think you'd be able to make time for me in the week, sweet bit?"

"You're going to make time for me?"

Spike nodded.

"What about your girlfriends? Will they be coming too?" she wrinkled her nose, "I didn't like Harmony, Dad. She stole my strawberry chapstick."

"No, baby, my girlfriends won't be coming with us. It'd just be you and I."

"Do you promise?"

"I do."

"And you wouldn't be talking on the phone all the time?"

"No, it'd just be me and you. I'll shut the phone off."

"Do you promise?"

"I do."

"I guess that's okay then."

"Can I have a hug?"

Alicia nodded and flew into her father's arms and hugging him tightly. Then, focused her attention to Buffy. "Are we going now?"

"We sure are, hon," Buffy assured her. "Get in Daddy's car and we'll go."

********

"So, you happy you got your daughter and Buffy on your side?" Sam asked after Alicia and Buffy had left. Now they were settling at the kitchen table, a pitcher of iced tea and a couple glasses between them. Spike was shocked at just the offer of a beverage.

"It's not about sides, Sam," he told her on a weary sigh, settling down at the table. "And you know it."

"How about talking to me before Alicia about your plans?" Sam snapped.

Spike clenched his jaw. "Funny but I thought our daughter would like to hear it first. You're telling me that she's growing up and has this whole other life and well, I kind of figured she'd like to be asked if she'd like to see her father more-"

"To give you the easy way out so you wouldn't actually have to go through with it or because you want to be her 'friend'?"

Sighing heavily, Spike sat back, "I don't see how either answer isn't just digging myself a hole. I'm dammed if I do and dammed if I don't with you."

"How long is this going to last? Until Buffy goes back?"

"Sam-"

"Because her heart would be broken if you made promises to her that you didn't plan to follow through on. Like when you promised her a pony ride when she turned five but the flavor of the week demanded your attention instead. Or when she was seven and you promised to take her to Disney on ice only 'something came up'. Or the weekends of the past that you 'forgot' it was your time to take her. I'm telling you right now, you do this and hurt her, I'll take you to court and make sure you never see her again. You don't get the tears and the bitterness when you don't show up and keep your promises."

Spike sat there, stunned, his heart breaking inside his chest thinking of all the promises he had made and hadn't followed through on when it came to his precious little girl. Ha. Precious little girl huh? He hadn't treated her that way now had he?

And Buffy saw good in him? Where?

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he said on a shaky voice, "I want to do this. I want to do. . . everything. Parent-teacher conferences, ball games, dance recitals - all of it."

"Your schedule with filming won't permit you do it all."

"Then I'll do what I can."

"Why the sudden change?"

"Do I have to tell you the reasons why I feel the need to change my life?"

"Maybe it'd make me more sympathetic and understanding as to why I want to risk breaking Alicia's heart. Again."

Spike took a deep breath, "Because I've realized that I've made some poor choices. I have hurt Alicia and that I'm in danger of losing her altogether. It hurts me to know that she can't share things with me. That I'm out of the loop and -"

"You never cared for that before, why now?"

"I was dumb, Sam, okay. I know I was. I was all about me and," he shook his head, "when I think about when she was a baby and how close I felt to her. . . she's mine. Half of her is me and she's amazing to me. She's my flesh and blood and I've wasted all this time on . . . what? Nothing. A few cheap thrills, that never mattered. Not the way she does. I want her to be able to tell me about her boyfriends and what's happening in school and her activities. I don't want to find out second hand...I want to know it all about her. I've fucked up Sam, I know. I missed the boat and I've broke her heart and I can't take those times back, I can't take any of it back, but I can do it better from now on. I want to be her Dad. Her only Dad. Please, just. . . let me prove to you that I can do this."

Sam stared at him long and hard, and Spike could see she was having an internal battle with herself. Her lips pursed together, she sat back and crossed her arms. "I mean it, William. You hurt her and you're done. Make sure you understand what you're getting yourself into before you commit to this."

Spike nodded eagerly, "I want this. I want to commit to this. Sam, I. . . I want to make it up to you too."

She eyed him warily, "That time is far past."

"Maybe so for some things, but not for all."

"I thought I was immune to your charms," she murmured, looking down. "How did you manage to convince me of this?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Maybe because you can feel how serious I am."

"Maybe," she sighed, "It's make or break time."

"I won't let you down."

"It's not just me William--"

"I know. I know, it's Alicia too, and I know I've let her down and I want to make it up to her."

Standing, Sam went to the fridge and grabbed the calendar hanging on it. "All right, let's make some plans then."

There is luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel no one else has a right to blame us. ~ Oscar Wilde

Coming into the kitchen with Alicia in tow, Buffy found Spike and Sam hunched over a calendar and some papers, plus Spike's planner. Alicia and her froze and stared at them.

"Everything okay?" Buffy asked cautiously.

Spike looked up at them over his shoulder, "We're making a schedule. Bit, you don't mind if Daddy takes you to dance class do you?"

Alicia stared at her father, dazed. "No," she answered slowly. "You're gonna take me to dance class?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"So that after we can have dinner together," he said as if it was an everyday occurrence and not something new that was just beginning.

Alicia blinked, "Okay."

"Great," Spike said and turned back to his planner. "Dance at six p.m. Got it."

Alicia shrugged and bounded off, "I'm going to watch a movie!" she called over her shoulder.

Buffy stood there, uncertain of what she should do.

Sam looked up at her, "Buffy, we're just about done here if you want to take a seat."

"Um, okay," Buffy agreed, feeling awkward. Was this something she should be around for or was this something she should leave them to do? "You know what? I'll just go upstairs and see what movie-"

"Pet," Spike said, reaching out. He took her hand and squeezed it, tugging her toward a chair. "Stay, please. It's okay." He smiled up at her and she immediately relaxed. She smiled back at him and then focused in on Sam who had a funny look on her face. Longing...perhaps some regret. Sam had a look of longing and regret, and Buffy had a funny feeling there was a story there.

********

"I know you're not happy with me," Sam said later after the plans had been made and Spike had gone up to say goodbye to Alicia

Buffy blinked and cleared her throat. "Well, I -"

"You think I'm hard on him just for the sake of being hard on him. Or because I'm still angry with him for cheating on me," Sam said, matter-of-factly.

"Well. . . yeah," Buffy said slowly.

"I can understand that, and part of that is true. Part of it. I am still angry with him for cheating on me-"

"Sam, you don't have to tell me this-"

"I do have to because you're the woman in his life now."

"Alicia is the woman in his life," Buffy said firmly.

Sam shook her head, "I'm not stupid, Buffy, I can see it. The way he looks at you, the way he treats you...he treats you better than any floozy he's brought by. You know why? He has respect for you. He loves you."

Buffy gulped and opened her mouth to speak, but Sam cut her off. "And I'm jealous. I can admit it. I'm jealous because he never loved me. He loved me as a friend, but he never loved me the way he loves you - as a lover and a friend. As someone he could fully give himself to. I've watched him over the years, Buffy, watched him hide himself and put on airs and become this guy he thought he had to be to gain love and respect...He doesn't do that with you. With you, he's real. He's himself. The himself I knew a long time ago combined with an air of self-confidence that is real and not fake. He's . . . he's not just William and he's not just Spike, he's somewhere in between."

"Sam, did you love Spike, ever?"

Sam frowned slightly and smiled with a shake of her head, "He tell you I didn't, huh? That's what he believed."

"So you did then."

"Yes, I did. I admit it was more based on friendship and support, but after he cheated on me, I realized how much I really did love him. It cut me to the bone, ripped me to shreds to know that he was with someone else, that someone else was there.... and all these years later-yeah, I love Ryan, don't get me wrong, I do, but there's a part of me that will always belong to William. I don't think I ever got over that hurt and I don't think I ever will. I think that's where some of that anger comes from - in fact; I know it is. It's me being angry at myself for not being able to be over it and angry at him for giving me that anger...it's a vicious cycle. However, that is just a small amount compared to the anger I feel on Alicia's behalf."

Buffy nodded solemnly, "I know."

"He told me he's realized he's made some mistakes and wants to fix them now. Only a small part of me believes that's all his doing and not yours."

"Sam-"

"And I've told him that basically, if he breaks her heart again, I'm taking Alicia from him completely. He listens to you, Buffy. Make sure he gets that, would you?"

Buffy nodded, "Sam, I'm sorry."

"For what? What do you have to be sorry for?"

"I'm not sure, honestly."

Sam shook her head, "Don't apologize for him, Buffy. He needs to own up to his mistakes, not make excuses for them and not have others make excuses for him. He's done things that deserve my ire, your ire, Alicia's ire and the list goes on. . . it matters not what he did, it matters what he does now."

"I whole heartedly agree," Buffy said nodding in agreement.

"I really do like you, Buffy."

"Thank you, Sam. I like you too."

"And I'm jealous of you too."

Swallowing hard, Buffy opened her mouth to speak and was once again cut off. "Call me when you want to do dinner," Sam said quietly and shuffled out of the room.

Settling back in the chair, Buffy pondered that new piece of information while she waited for Spike to join her.

********

"You're quiet," Spike noted later to Buffy as they drove back to his penthouse.

"Am I?"

"You are. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

Buffy shrugged, "Just stuff." She didn't think it appropriate to tell Spike what Sam had confessed to her. Granted, she was first and foremost Spike’s friend, however, she did have some kind of relationship with Sam and respected her enough to not spill the beans on the truth of her feelings for Spike. Besides, she didn’t think it was something that Spike would be able to deal well with and it just simply wasn’t her place to say anything. That was up to Sam if she ever felt compelled to say anything.

“Care to share any of that?”

Buffy smiled over at him wanly, “Not really.”

Reaching over, Spike took her hand in his, “Want to go out tonight? Have dinner? Maybe a club or something? Just to get out and have some fun?”

Buffy nodded, “That sounds like fun – but, are you, ya know, gonna drink a lot?”

Spike laughed, “No, pet, I’m not going to drink a lot. We’ll just go out and make fun of other people like we always do.”

Buffy laughed, “Sounds perfect.” She snorted, “We’re such assholes.”

“Buffy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know I don’t, but I am anyway.”

Squeezing his hand she turned back to watch the California sites pass her by.

Each time that one loves is the only time that one has ever loved ~ Oscar Wilde


When Buffy Summers cut loose, she cut loose. And here Spike thought she’d be some kind of stick in the mud; which was ridiculous considering he had been out with her before and knew how much fun she could be.

With a few in her, she was a riot. She was loud and at her witty best. She was also quite outgoing and laughed easily. He didn’t want her drunk necessarily, just loose. Loose enough to have a good time and still be able to have a conversation with him. That seemed to be her goal as well since she’d slowed down after the first couple drinks. The girl, he realized, was a lightweight.

“So, how do you feel about everything?” Buffy asked as she sipped her frozen strawberry margarita and studied him closely.

Grinning, he took a swig of beer. “I feel great.”

“Like a new man?”

“Not quite there yet, but close. Feel like maybe some of that darkness in my picture is somewhat fading.”

“Ah, the reverse of Dorian Gray?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re so smart, Spike,” she blurted out. Her eyes grew wide, as if she couldn’t believe she’d said that out loud. As if it was a bad thing.

He chuckled, “Thanks, so are you pet. Why do you look as if you shouldn’t have said that?”

“It just flew out.” She set her drink down. “Gotta slow down.”

“Telling me I’m smart is not a bad thing, you know.”

“I know, I just . . . I just – “

“Have other things rolling around in your mind that you’re afraid you might share?”

She nodded profusely.

“Why? Because they might get you in trouble if you say them?”

She nodded again.

“Like how you want my tight, hot body.”

She started to nod and then abruptly stopped. She glared at him. “Sneaky.”

He laughed, “Come on, say it. I’ll tell you how much I want you first if it’d make you feel better.”

“No! That most certainly would not make me feel better!” she exclaimed, indignant.

“Why not? Don’t you want to know how desired you are?”

“It’s easy to desire a body, Spike,” she drawled.

“I don’t just desire your body, Buffy, and you know it, “ he said sternly.

“Can we talk about something else, please?”

He sighed, “Why? Don’t you think we have to talk about this at some point?”

“Yes, at some point. That point not being now.”

“Would you instead like to dance? Maybe grind up against my hot, tight body?” he asked innocently.

That earned him another glare and a blush. God, she was adorable.

“Maybe I’ll find someone else to grind up against Smarty Pants,” she said indignantly, and spun towards the dance floor.

Grabbing her arm with quick, catlike reflexes, he brought her flush up against him, delighting in the gasp that came out of her mouth coupled with the look of shock and lust.

Grinning devilishly, he tucked some hair behind her ear slowly and met her eyes with his own, his gaze never wavering. “There will be no grinding with anyone but me,” he told her.

She quirked a brow. “Does the same go for you?”

He nodded, “The same goes for me.”

“Until....unless....?”

He shook his head, “No until, and no unless.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t trust you,” she told him bluntly.
“I know you don’t. Not completely anyway. I never gave you any reason to trust me.”

“I did, before. Before . . .” she trailed off, averting her eyes.

“Before I lied. Before I promised that it would just be us and I snuck someone in. I get that. I understand it.”

“And the words, Spike, the pretty words. I don’t believe them. How can I? You’ve used them on everyone else.”

“The meaning behind them though—“

“When you tell me you love me, it . . . God, I don’t want to hurt you and tonight was not about this –“

“Tell me.”

She took a deep breath and he braced himself for the impact of her words. She was right, tonight wasn’t about this, wasn’t about heavy conversations, and hashing out the relationship he wanted to have so desperately with her, and it wasn’t so much wanted, he needed it. He needed her, quite simply.

His gaze stayed intent on her. She needed to know that he was there, rock solid, and would take what she gave him, what he deserved. He wasn’t going to bail when the going got too tough, nope, he was a changing man, a work-in-progress so to speak, and this was where he kept his feet planted firmly on the ground and took what was given to him.

“When you tell me you love me, I don’t believe you,” she blurted out.

That hurt; it did. He swallowed and nodded slowly, “Okay. Why?”

“What do you mean why? You know why. How many women have you said it to and never meant it? How many women have you said it to, to get what you want out of them?”

“Buffy—“

“And I don’t want to be like them, Spike. I can’t. This...” she gestured between them. “It can’t happen.”

“Do you love me, Buffy?”

She froze. “What?”

“Do you love me? Are you in love with me?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with anything.“

“It has everything to do with everything.”

“No,” she shook her head emphatically.

“No, you won’t tell me, or no you don’t love me?”

“Spike—“

“You’re a shitty liar, you know that? Works out well for me though. Do you realize you can never lie so you avoid saying anything altogether?”

“Do you realize how incredibly persistent you are?” she threw back.

He laughed, “Yeah, I do. Especially when it comes to something I want as badly as I want you.”

“That’s just it. You want me. For what? Because you feel gratitude. Gratitude is not love.”

“What do I feel gratitude toward you for exactly?” he asked dryly.

“For being here and supporting you through all that you’ve been going through.”

He released her, “And half of that wouldn’t have been happening had you not kicked me in the nuts repeatedly since you got here.”

Her eyes widened and her hands balled into fists. “Oh, so what? Now you blame me for the changes? Were you really so happy with the way your life was going before that?”

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes. He shook his head, “No, I wasn’t. I’m sorry. I just felt something there and I lashed out.”

“What were you feeling?” she asked, curiously.

“Hurt,” he admitted. “And you don’t know what it took for me to just admit that to you. I don’t. . . I don’t show my feelings well, my true feelings. Especially when I’m hurt. But there it is. You rejecting me—“

“I’m not rejecting you—“

“You rejecting me hurts. It doesn’t matter when some bimbo that I’m looking -- was-- looking to get laid from rejects me.”

“Does that ever happen?” she asked, the corners of her mouth twitching into a sardonic grin.

He smiled, “Yeah, it happens.” Taking a deep breath, he continued, “But when you reject me Buffy, it hurts. Cuts right to the heart of me. It’s solely you.”

“I’m not rejecting you, Spike. I’m . . . I’m being selfish, okay? I’m looking out for me. I told you already, I’m looking out for my heart and I’m sorry if yours is being caught in the crossfire of that—“

“Well, since you don’t believe I actually have a heart, then it shouldn’t matter.”

“Don’t,” she told him firmly, “Don’t think you can guilt me into admitting or doing anything –“

“I’m not trying to, I’m sorry I just –“

“Argh! Can we stop? We’re going round in circles. I say something that hurts, you retaliate and we’re not really getting anywhere are we?”

He raked a hand through his hair and nodded resolutely, “Yeah, you’re right, we’re not. Listen, can you do something for me?”

Sighing heavily, she eyed him suspiciously. “Depends on what it is.”

“I’m not going to ask you for a chance, not going to ask you for a crumb of a chance. I know it’s too soon and you’re afraid and mistrustful of me right now—“

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she blurted out defiantly, narrowing her eyes at him. He should have known she’d respond to a challenge like that. Never throw the gauntlet down to Buffy Summers if you’re not prepared for the fight of your life. And, he knew he could probably use that challenge to get her over to him, but he wouldn’t do that. She’d figure it out anyway. No, he was going to try honesty for once.

“I want you to think about giving me a chance. Just think about the possibility of us, that’s it.”

She narrowed her eyes, “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

“You just want me to think about it?”

He nodded, “That’s all.”

“And what if I decide that I’m too afra—that I don’t want to?”

He ignored the Freudian slip and continued, “Then we’ll – or I will cross that bridge when I get to it.” Meaning, the big guns will be taken out, he thought to himself.

“Until then, no pressure?”

“None.”

“Promise?”

“Do you want to pinky swear on it or something?”

“I was thinking of having you sign your name in blood.”

He laughed, “As a changed man, and on . . . Sam’s life, I swear,” he said and held up his right hand.

“Not Alicia’s, huh?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable doing that. Like I’m sending her into the lion’s den to be slaughtered, you know?”

“But Sam doesn’t bother you so much?” Buffy giggled.

“Well, I do care, I mean, she is the mother of my child so there is a certain respect there.”

“This just got too complicated. See what happens when you break your promises?”

“I take full responsibility for it.”

“You have no choice but to,” Buffy laughed. “Come on, let’s go dance. Enough with the heavy.”

He grinned, “See, you do want my tight hot body.”

“Spike!”

“Hey now, I never said anything about not flirting shamelessly now did I?”

Woman begins by resisting a man's advances and ends up blocking his retreat. ~Oscar Wilde

How high are the stakes

How much fortune can you make

How high are the stakes

How much fortune can you make

It wasn’t often that Spike sat back and just watched the
scene. Well, that wasn’t true, he’d sit back and watch,
under the pretense of not caring, but in actuality it was
all an act. An act that Buffy had seen through many
times. “It’s so. . . brat pack of you,” she admonish him
the few times before she’d accompanied him to
clubs, “to just pretend you’re bored, when
you’re really just scoping things out and hoping some
stupid broad will come over and rescue you.”

It's funny, I spent my whole life wanting to be talked
about

I did it, just about everything to see my name in lights

Was it all worth it

And how did I earn it

Nobody's perfect

I guess I deserved it

He’d always laughed at her assumptions, and never
argued with her. How could he, when she was right? It
was his M.O. Adopt that sort of world-weary persona in
order to allow some stupid sod to drag you into living
and then live it up as if it were you were never out of
practice in doing so in the first place. It worked like a
charm, every time. Except that now, he realized, he
really was world-weary. Not bored, necessarily
though, but tired. And here he was, embarking
on a whole new adventure: The adventure of
reinventing himself yet again. Well, hey, if Madonna
could do it, then he could do it too.

He hoped.

How high are the stakes

How much fortune can you make

Does this get any better

Should I carry on

Will it matter when I'm gone

Will any of this matter

So, now he sat and watched. Watched the men just
like him and the women who wanted to be with them.
Watched how ridiculous it all seemed, how pointless.
Especially when his eyes would land on Buffy, off in
her own little world, dancing to the music, oblivious to
what was going on around her. She was such an
innocent, he mused, and yet, not. She was smart –
bright and articulate. She didn’t hold back in what she
thought, and gave it straight every time. She knew how
to cut right to the quick of him. With so many
surrounding him telling him how wonderful he was,
how larger than life he was, it was nice for someone to
bring him back down to Earth and tell him, that really,
he was still a little fish in a big bowl and he needed to
check that ego at the door.

Buffy was so real. She didn’t put on airs, she
was who she was and that was all she wanted or
needed to be. It was all he wanted and needed her to
be.

It's funny how everybody mentions my name but
they're never very nice

I took it, just about everything except my own advice

Was it all worth it

And how did I earn it

Nobody's perfect

I guess I deserved it

“Hey, what are you doing here, sitting all alone?”

Looking up into a pair of deep brown eyes, Spike sat
up straighter. The girl before him was beautiful. Not a
classic beauty, but more of an exotic one. Her skin
was dark, her eyes large and seductive. Her long
chestnut hair was sleek down her back and she
smiled, her ruby red lips forming and inviting smile.
She slid into the chair that Buffy had occupied and
leaned forward slightly.

He stared at the brazen woman, and blinked. “Hi,” he
said, uncertainly. Where had all his confidence gone?
Why did he feel suddenly threatened?

How high are the stakes

How much fortune can you make

[Nothing lasts forever]

Does this get any better

Should I carry on

Will it matter when I'm gone

Will any of this matter

“I’ve seen you here before. Many times. I’ve just never
had the courage to come up to you. Mostly because I
felt so fat. You inspired me to lose weight and get stuff
done – you probably don’t want to hear this. I’m sorry.
I’ve said too much. Would you like a drink?”

Spike could do nothing but stare. He inspired
this beautiful woman to lose weight? She felt moved
by his . . . emptiness, his fakeness, his utter lack of
feeling for any female he’d come in contact with, that
she’d done what she could to make herself
presentable, noticeable to him.

He wanted to throw up.

How high, does it make a difference

Nothing lasts forever

Should I, will it matter when I'm gone

Will any of this matter

How high are the stakes

How much fortune can you make

Should I carry on

Will it matter when I'm gone

“My name is Miranda, by the way,” she rushed out.

“Miranda, listen—“

Immediately, her perfectly pretty face crumpled. “I’m
not pretty enough.”

He shook his head adamantly. “No, that’s not it at all,
you’re bloody gorgeous—“

“Then what is it? Why not me? I’ve seen you here so
many times with other women and now you suddenly
don’t want any?”

“What’s going on here?”

Spike’s head snapped up at the sound of Buffy’s
voice, laced with jealousy and demand. Her green
eyes were flashing and the look on her face told him
she was not pleased.

She thought the worse of him. Already.

“Pet, it’s not what you think—“

“What do I think?” Buffy asked, glaring at the girl.

Miranda in the meantime stood, nearly tumbling back
her chair in her haste to get away. “I have to go.”

Spike jumped up, wanting to talk with her, tell her he
was not someone she should change for.
She’d disappeared in the crowd though, and going
after her meant risking Buffy. He couldn’t have that.

She raised a brow and eyed him, “I have no ties to
you.”

He nodded, “I know.”

”And you have none to me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You do?”

“I do. I love you.”

“I’m just saying, that we’re not together so it’s not like
you can’t date other women, but I’d just rather
that you—“ she took a deep breath and shook her
head. “I thought you were done picking up strange
women!”

“I wasn’t picking her up! She was picking me up.”

“Isn’t that always the way.”

“Buffy, she came over and sat down. I was sitting here,
watching you dance and thinking—“

“You were watching me?”

“Yes, luv, I was. She came over and started telling me
how she’d seen me here before but never had the
courage to come up to me because she felt fat. That
beautiful woman felt fat because of me.
She went on a diet because I never gave her
the time of day, because she felt she didn’t measure
up to the stupid bimbo’s I took my time up with.” He
ran a hand through his blond locks, ruffling them. “I
feel like such a jackass.”

Buffy softened immediately, “Spike, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.”

Grabbing his hands, Buffy made him stand still. He
met her eyes and instantly relaxed.

“It’s okay,” she soothed him. “You can’t hold yourself
responsible for every woman you come in
contact with. Spike, you’re a celebrity and yeah, there’s
going to be girls all over that do things like that
because they think they’re the ones that are going to
win you, but it’s not your fault.”

“I just feel like. . . like I wasted my time on those plastic
women when real beauties with hearts and souls and
brains were out there,” he said, nearly
whining. “Here you were this whole time, Buffy. Right
in front of me and I was too stupid to see. Or maybe I
knew and . . . you’re too good for me. A great deal too
good. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t start feeling sorry for yourself. You did that
already remember? The road only goes up from here.
It’s time to stop blaming yourself for every little thing
and letting it bog you down. Focus on that picture
getting clearer and clearer. Focus on Alicia. Forgive
yourself.”

He met her eyes, imploring her, “Can you forgive me?”

She nodded and smiled, “Yes, Spike, I can.”

“Will you ever be able to trust me?”

“In time.”

“Can we—can we go home now?”

“Lead the way.”

How high are the stakes

Does it make a difference

Nothing lasts forever

Does this get any better

Should I carry on

Will it matter when I'm gone

Does it make a difference

Will any of this matter

How high are the stakes

How much fortune can you make

Should I carry on

Will it matter when I'm gone

**Song “How High by Madonna

Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you. ~Oscar Wilde

“Rise and shine, sunshine!”

Buffy’s eyes flew open as the blinds on her windows were snapped up, rattling into place high atop the contraption holding them to the window. She looked up with wide eyes to spy Spike, standing over her in black sweats and a blue t-shirt. He looked like a bruise to her weary eyes.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, lying straight as a board as she regarded the goofy grin on his face. Best not to make any sudden movements lest Crazy pounced.

“I’m waking you up,” he chirped cheerfully, as if it were the best thing in the world he could do.

“What the hell time is it?” she asked.

“Nine.”

“How is it that you’re even up now? You were with me last night, right? When we got home and stayed up until two-thirty watching a scary movie?”

He grinned down at her. “I was with you all right, baby.” Then he frowned slightly, “I think I lost some of the feeling in my arm for the better part of the night from when you dug your claws into me.”

She grinned up at him, “Don’t be a wuss.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, “Not being a wuss, Catwoman.”

She beamed at him and slowly sat up. “Thank you, I take that as a compliment.”

He rolled his eyes, “You would.”

“So, why am I getting up now?”

“We’re going shopping.”

“I don’t even get a coffee while you’re getting me up?”

He gave her a look, “Coffee is downstairs, percolating, bossy.”

“Bossy I don’t like so much.”

“Well, luv, you know the saying. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck. . . “

“Blah, blah, blah,” but she grinned at him. “What are we going shopping for?”

“We’re taking Alicia to begin preparations for her room.”

Frowning slightly, Buffy bit her bottom lip. “Shouldn’t that just be a you and Alicia thing? A bonding for you and her?”

“I see where you’re going with this, and yes, I agree, however, you’re a woman—“

“This should be good,” Buffy said dryly.

“You’re a woman,” he continued, ignoring her, “And you know more about decorating and let’s face it, you know more about what’s hip—“

“I’m hip enough to know that no one uses ‘hip’ anymore. I think ‘cool’ is still in from the nineties,” Buffy interjected with a sweet smile.

Spike gave her a stern look and then continued on, “Anyway, while it’ll be a bonding experience for her and I – who, I might add has a whole schedule of bonding coming up – I need your help. I’ve had no practice at this sort of thing.”

“Yes, I often go out on many weekends helping parents decorate their kids rooms.”

“You know what I mean, brat.”

She beamed up at him, “I do. I just like picking on you.”

“So, will you come?”

“I will. Especially considering the decorating job you’ve got going on for the rest of the place. I’m sure you’d try to convince her to go black, and that’s just depressing.”

“I thought you liked it!”

“I do, but not for her age. I’m sure she’ll ask to paint her room black once she hits thirteen.”

“Ooh, painting. Should I hire a painter?”

Buffy shook her head, “No. You paint the room with her, genius. More bonding, get it?”

Spike grinned, “Despite the fact that you’re being a sarcastic bitch right now, I still adore you.”

Buffy laughed, “And despite the fact that you’re being extremely saccharine this morning, I still think you’re swell.”

“Pet, even I know that no one says ‘swell’ anymore.”

“Especially since you probably remember when it was still in use, huh?” she retorted, all innocence and light. She really was enjoying this morning banter. It was what she’d missed out on the first morning of her visit. It was fun, light and airy. There were no pretenses hanging in the air, no heavy words just flitting on the outskirts of their fun, waiting to enter in their little bubble and burst it. It was just them and their smiles, their newfound connection to each other firmly back in place.

God, she wanted to kiss him.

********

Shopping with Alicia was exhausting, Buffy decided as they trudged through furniture places, one after another, Spike only wanting the best for his little girl. And Alicia had quickly caught on to that and had taken it upon herself to play it up, and demand only the very best for herself. Not that Buffy could blame her at all for that, in fact, it was quite comical. She wondered if Spike saw it happening or if he was just too over the moon with joy at seeing the delight in her pretty features to care.

They were a pair that was for sure. The two of them chattering away picking out this and that, trying out this and that, discussing the necessities of one item over the necessity of another. It was a whole other side to Spike that was making it that much harder for Buffy to deny him, or more to the point, her true feelings for him. She saw before her the Dad she knew he could be, granted it was only one day, but she felt it in her gut: This was real. This was going to stick. There was no way it couldn’t, and from how he was glowing in absolute joy, she wondered how he’d gone so long without having this part of his daily routine. The high she knew he got from being with Alicia should have been an addictive drug that he’d wanted to keep around, not kick once she was out of sight.

She read in a book once about a character being described as having Emotional A.D.D. That once the object of one’s affection was no longer in sight, they were forgotten about. That seemed to be the case for Spike. Well, the Old Spike, as Buffy now referred to him as. The New Spike was going to stay aware (fingers still crossed) of what he had, and would do what he could to hold onto it tightly. And, if he didn’t? Buffy was going to have to kick his ass.

All good things must come to an end, Buffy thought when she heard a familiar, whining voice, bellowing across one particular furniture store—the name’s were lost on Buffy now, having all melded together after four hours. She froze, as did Alicia and Spike, all of them seeming to prepare for battle. The battle with the unstable, crazed and chaotic--

“Blondie Bear!” The sound came again, shrill and spine-tingling, like nails on a chalkboard, like every nightmare rolled into one and thrown at you.

Harmony.

Buffy turned to face that noise, for its best to face your foe head on, especially with Harmony. God only knew when knives could be flung at your back from the likes of that twit.

Alicia and Buffy exchanged glances, and then Spike and Buffy exchanged glances as Harmony bounded her way over, complete with her entourage should she break a nail or need a water with special electrolytes in them stat, looking every part the wannabe Mariah Carey/Britney Spears diva – trashy playing at being classy.

“This should be good,” Buffy muttered and prepared for attack.

The aim of life is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly - that is what each of us is here for. ~Oscar Wilde

Harmony, as far as Buffy could tell, paid no heed to the fact that Spike had company. Her eyes were firmly intent on Spike as she bee lined for him.

She also paid no heed to the fact that she had on a long sweater jacket that failed to do the diva-swirly move behind her and instead, got caught under her boot heels, causing her to trip not so gracefully and right into Spike's arms.

Buffy and Alicia started to giggle, the both of them with hands over their mouths. They looked at each other and giggled more. That was until Buffy noticed out of the corner of her eye Harmony glaring at them. Buffy just shrugged, not really caring if the moron and her entourage, who was now glaring daggers at her as well, thought she was impertinent for not bowing down to the unglory that was Harmony. Reaching out for Alicia, Buffy pulled her closer to her just in case daggers actually did fly from their eyes.

Spike, for his part, looked completely baffled and put out. "What?" he asked, pointedly, helping her stand erect once more.

She stared at him and put her hands on her hips. "What do you mean 'what?'? Haven't you missed me?"

Spike sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, "Well, I did, but--"

Harmony broke out in a wide smile. "So you've been a shell of a man without me. Tell me how you've been a shell of a man without me," she pressed eagerly. It seemed to Buffy that Harmony almost wanted to clap her hands together in delight at that. Without realizing it, Buffy sucked in a breath and held it, wondering what the exchange between the two was going to result in.

Spike shook his head. "I rather think I've become a whole man since you left me."

Harmony blinked, looked around her, glanced at her entourage who just shrugged, and then blinked back at him, clearly lost. "Huh?"

"What do you want, Harmony?" Spike finally demanded.

Finally, Buffy thought, we get to it.

Harmony pouted petulantly, "I want to come back." Reaching out, she slid one perfectly manicured, pink polished nail down the middle of his clothed in a black t-shirt, chest. "Don't you want me to come back?"

Spike took a step back and shook his head, Buffy exhaled finally, and Alicia looked on with wide eyes.

Harmony didn’t appear as if she knew quite to do with her self. He eyes widened into saucers and she seemed rooted to where she was. Buffy had the distinct feeling the tart had never been rejected like this; she also surmised that she was going to blow. Buffy feared that blow. She’d heard the girl sing, she was a screecher, no good could come from Harmony blowing if she started to screech her disbelief and anger.

“What is it? Is it her?” Harmony spat, pointing at Buffy.

“Which ‘her’ are you referring to? You better not mean my daughter,” Spike said, warning in his voice.

“No, the other one,” Harmony spat, trying to bore a hole in Buffy’s head with her laser eyes.

“The ‘other one’? That’s real nice Harmony,” Buffy spoke up finally. “Alicia is someone, not the other half of the ‘other one’.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Harmony told her dismissively.

“I don’t really care if you were talking to me or not you little –“

“Shut up!” Harmony shouted.

“Harmony,” Spike said wearily, “Just go. Just take leave of us already. God, I never realized what an insipid little brat you are. Selfish, spoiled, conceited little—“

“That never seemed to bother you when you were fucking me!” Harmony screeched.

“Come on Leesha,” Buffy said softly, guiding Alicia away from the scene Harmony was about to cause. And, if she should cause the glass encasing the store to shatter from her shrill voice, then it was best to get Alicia out of Harmony’s way.

“No. Stay. Harmony can leave,” Spike said evenly. It was the kind of evenness that hinted that underneath that cool exterior was a storm of mass proportions. A tornado, an earthquake, a tsunami. It chilled to the bone. Which was why Harmony cowered. Wise on her part, Buffy decided and made a furtive wish that she never, ever was on the receiving end of that even calm.

He strode up to Harmony until he was in her face. “You will leave this place now so that I can shop with my daughter in peace. You will also apologize to her and to Buffy for using such language. Do it or I will get security over here and have them take you out by force. I don’t care who the hell you are, I’m crazy enough to do it. And don’t think you can get one of your little cronies to help you, Harmony. God alone can help you – and them-- if you don’t apologize and remove yourself from our presence.”

“Blondie bear?” Harmony tried, one last ditch effort.

“Do it!”

Turning slowly to Buffy and Alicia with big crocodile tears dropping, and her bottom lip quivering, Harmony issued them a quivering apology before running, yes running, from them, her entourage following behind.

Alicia and Buffy regarded Spike with wide eyes, wondering if there would be an explosive fallout following the chaotic storm that had been Harmony. Instead though, he took a deep breath, shook himself a bit as if shaking off the whole scene and turned to them with a grin. “So, Leesha, what had we decided on for this bed frame?”

********

After dropping Alicia off at home, and after telling her mother in a thoroughly exaggerated manner about her Daddy’s confrontation with Harmony, she’d kissed her father on the cheek with a giant bear hug attached and bounded off to call one of her friends and tell them how her Daddy got Harmony to cry.

Sam had seemed impressed, if her facial expressions were anything to go by, but she’d be damned to say anything remotely approving though. Buffy figured it’d take some time, but just her acknowledgment with a nod that Spike had handled it well, was a step in the right direction. She’d then politely excused herself and told Spike she’d see him soon.

Buffy flopped back in the car, exhausted. Her belly was full after having gotten dinner, and she was worn out. “I’ve shopped and I’m ready to drop,” she informed Spike.

He grinned over at her. “So, you don’t want to take a walk on the beach for a bit?”

Buffy broke into a smile, the beach being her favorite place. “I think I could muster up some energy for that.”

“I thought so.”

********

Strolling side by side under the fading sun, Buffy quietly contemplated how to tell Spike she was proud of him. Before she’d only managed to pat him on the back and give him a wide grin, trying to convey that he’d done well. He’d been mature, having not stooped to Harmony’s level and, most importantly, he’d defended Alicia and shown her that she was the most important thing to him and that a sniveling brat like Harmony had no place in his life if she could not accept her.

“You’re quiet. What are you thinking?” Spike asked, breaking her reverie.

She smiled a tiny smile of knowing and gave him a sideways glance. “I’m thinking of how to tell you how proud I am of you.”

“For?”

“For how you handled Harmony.”

“Well, she was out of line. She insulted Alicia and you, not to mention causing a scene. Alicia didn’t need to see that.”

“Had that never happened before when you were dating her?”

Spike shook his head, “Not with Alicia around us.” He took a deep breath and puffed out his chest. “I suppose the strain of losing yours truly has gotten to her.”

Buffy laughed and swatted him playfully on the arm. “Well, I thought it was great. You were so. . . “

“Mature?”

She grinned, “Yes, mature. Alicia considers you a hero, you realize.”

“Does she now?”

“The sheer fact that she wanted to tell all her friends how her Dad made Harmony cry, I’d say so.”

“Yeah, but was it for that alone or was it for why I did what I did.”

“She might not fully realize why you did what you did, that it was for her—“

“And you.”

“—But she will one day and that makes all the difference in the world. That’s going to be the first story she writes about in her memoir.”

Spike chuckled. “That so?”

Buffy nodded adamantly. “Yep. You’ll see.”

Reaching out, Spike took Buffy’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, pet.”

Halting, Buffy took pause and looked up at an inquisitive Spike.

“Pet?” he asked her. “Something wrong?”

Taking a deep breath for courage while her heart was pounding in her ears, Buffy leaned up quickly and kissed him. She pulled back, finding she wanted more and looked up to gauge his reaction. His eyes were closed and he wore a goofy smile that spread from ear to ear.

“Hey, pet, you think you could do that—“

Knowing how he was going to finish that sentence, Buffy took it upon herself to reply with another kiss, this one longer, more passionate, holding the sides of his head in her hands. “Ssshh,” she warned, “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re in danger of getting that crumb you asked for.”

The aim of love is to love: no more, and no less. ~Oscar Wilde

For the first time in her life, Buffy had acted not upon a thought out plan and process, but on a whim. She’d followed her instincts and followed her desire. To Spike. To kissing him, to telling him the secret of her heart, that she hadn’t even reconciled with herself quite yet.

Her head, as a result, was spinning. Especially when Spike seemed keen on pressing her for what she “exactly meant”, and “where did they go from here?” Good questions all, and all of which she had not an answer to. Her “I don’t know” didn’t seem to resonate well with him and so, as they made their way back to his home, and as he followed her up to Alicia’s soon- to- be- room while she prepared to get ready for bed, he continued to ask her.

“Spike!” she exclaimed finally, sitting on the bed, exasperated. “Do you think if you keep asking me the same question, I’ll miraculously have the answer?”

He blinked, “Yeah.” And then he grinned mischievously, “Or at least tell me what I want to hear to get me to shut up, so that later I can use it to get what I want when I throw it in your face that you agreed to my terms.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Not that you had that all thought out or anything.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Part of my charm.”

“You have charm?” and she snorted at the weary look he gave her.

He sighed, “So then why did you say it? Was it the moment? The setting sun, the beach? The fact that I played Hero Dad today? That I put Harmony in her place? Was I ever worthy of such affection from you before, or did I have to prove myself first? What was it?”

She stared at him, not sure what to do with that question in the middle regarding his worthiness. It stunned her. It gave her pause. It made her think. And unlike the beach, she didn’t want to rush into an answer without thinking through how she wanted to phrase what she needed to say. Unfortunately, her quiet gave him all the answers of his worst fears and he shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Forget it,” he muttered and practically ran off.

So, it was quite possible that his quest for love and acceptance in all the wrong places had been helped, his skirt chasing supported, by everyone around him that was supposed to love him, and instead had turned away from him, turned up their judgmental noses at him and berating him, causing him to sink further in his self-loathing, which in turn caused him to skirt chase and – oh God, it was vicious cycle. One that perhaps she’d had a hand in helping to continue.

Thinking back on past conversations, all the ones leading up to his turnaround had been about how disgusting his behavior had been. What a mimbo he was, how horrible his judgment was, what a bad father he was.

Had there been anything, ever, that she had complimented him on? It wasn’t until he’d expressed a desire to change that she’d told him how she saw good things in him. He didn’t know until then though, didn’t know until he was about to bring those aspects of himself out more and in full force, that she’d thought him a good man.

Was it possible that Spike had been trying all this time not only prove himself worthy to him, but to those around him as well? That if he had women around him, it said that hey, at least somebody wants me for me.

Even if he was never the real him. Even if he was playing a part. Hey, at least someone was there, and that was all that mattered, right?

It was a mess, a convoluted, multi-layered mess. Complicated, just like the man. The man that, let’s face it, owned her heart.

What he’d just told in that line of questioning without really telling her was that he felt worthless before his transformation, and that everyone saw him as just that. Which only served to fuel his belief that he was not lovable to begin with. That was the very belief he tried to hide and squelch down with numerous affairs and living the ‘high life’. And now, now he was getting positive reactions, he was being told how great he was, how great he could be – but no one had bothered to give him any crumbs before. He probably felt as though they all just saw him as a pathetic fuck up.

She was going to have to fix this.

********

Spike took a deep drag off his cigarette, so deep he almost coughed. Letting out the puff of smoke that never seemed to end, he sat down on the edge of his patio chair and stared off into the nightlife of Los Angeles.

He felt suddenly that he didn’t fit in anywhere. As if he were in limbo. He didn’t belong to the nightlife anymore and he didn’t belong inside with Buffy it seemed either. He wanted to belong inside with her, he also wanted to belong to the rush of the nightlife, but he’d made promises to people that that was not part of him any longer. As a result, he was beginning to feel trapped.

“Spike.”

He looked up to see Buffy coming out to join him on his balcony. He turned back to the view. “Buffy, I’m kind of not in the mood right now.”

“Look, what you said, I never realized—Spike, I’m sorry.”

“For? For thinking I’m just a fuck up? For thinking I was really just a waste of space before and that the only things I did right was conceiving Alicia and maybe my acting?”

“No, that’s not it at all, actually. I’m sorry I never told you that . . . “ she trailed off, taking a huge breath.

“Told me what? Don’t have to lie to me now, pet. I know what I am. No more than a monster, really. The only thing I got going for me now is redemption. Other than that, when that’s all said and done, I’ll go back to being nothing again.” He stood, facing her, feeling the anger and frustration rise to the surface. “It kills me, you know. You all banded together before to complain about what a louse I was, what a ‘mimbo’ I was, what an awful father I was. It was as if that’s all I was to you. Just a deadbeat dad that dated a bunch of moronic sluts. Now that I’ve ‘seen the light’, I’m suddenly worth something. I get a pat on the back and a ‘so proud of you’, but it’s like. . . what happens when that ends? What happens if I fuck up somewhere along the way? What if I don’t fit into the mold that you all want me to fit into anymore? Will I go back to being nothing more than a fuck up?”

“Spike, I never realized how unfair we’ve been, well, mainly me. Sam, she’s. . . well, she’s gonna take a bit of time.”

“Until I fuck up again and then I’ll just have proved her right yet again.”

“Would you stop saying that? You’re not a fuck up.”

He threw his arms up in exasperation. “Come on! Don’t hold back on me now. You’ve been saying it in many ways and many times since you got here, why take it all back now? Huh? Isn’t this part of the process? Kick him while he’s down, but then continue to kick him on his way up so he remembers his place. Isn’t that right, Buffy?”

She shook her head, “No, it’s not.”

He stared at her, noticing the tears pooling in her eyes. That startled him. Buffy never cried, hardly ever. It angered him. “Oh great, now I’ve gone and made you cry – gonna make me feel guilty about that now?”

She shook her head, swallowing hard. “I’m not upset at you. You’re not making me cry. I’m . . . realizing that I made you feel less than you were is making me cry. I hate that I made you feel that way.”

He stood rooted where he was, stunned and suddenly overwhelmed by her words and what they meant. “What?”

“I never realized that I treated you less than you were. I never realized that I brushed you off as a fuck up and a deadbeat dad. I didn’t try to tell you that I didn’t like what you were doing, that I was concerned about you, that I was so incredibly jealous of those girls, and concerned for Alicia – I just wrote you off as some jackass that couldn’t keep it in his pants while waiting for you to get a clue. And when you did, then I chose to tell you what a great man I saw all this time. I never told you when you had those moments of greatness and no wonder you felt like such a louse all the time. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for never telling you before. Spike, there’s no way I could have . . .” she took a deep breath, “fallen in love with you if I thought that you were just a fuck up. I told you before, and I’m telling you now, I always saw the good man you were inside. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. And even if you do ‘fuck up’ as you say, who doesn’t? Aren’t we all just human? The point of it is to have those around us that care about us no matter what, and are there to pick us up when we fall. You took a long ass fall for a long ass time, and I was there. Now you’re picking yourself up with a stumble here and there, and I’m still here, Spike. Because I believe you are a good man.”

He blinked, “Buffy?”

“Yeah?” she asked, wiping her tears away that were now falling freely.

“Did you just tell me you were in love with me?”

Now she threw up her arms in exasperation. “You choose that to focus on after all that?”

“Would you stop crying, you’re making me well up,” he admonished her, “And I hate to cry as much as you do.”

“I can’t help it! It always happens when I get nervous and feel truly bad about something.”

“Well knock it off and tell me you love me again.”

“God, you’re pushy,” she said and rolled her eyes.

“That’s right, I am. Now say it. Please?” he asked, strolling towards her, feeling suddenly light and free. Feeling that he suddenly found where he belonged.

Looking him straight in the eye, Buffy stood tall. “I love you Spike and I have the whole time. I was just too—“

“Buffy?” he asked, stopping in front of her, pushing some hair from her face.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” and he covered her mouth with his, kissing her hungrily, passionately and devoutly. He hadn’t realized how starved he was for this; how much he needed it until it was right there before him. Until he realized that he needed her like he needed air. He was starved for real love and real love was what she gave him. Her arms and her heart was where he wanted to be, had to be, and would fight to be forever.

Buffy was, quite simply, love.

Skepticism is the beginning of Faith. ~Oscar Wilde

"You're trembling," Spike murmured as he held Buffy tight in his arms. "Why are you trembling? It's not like it's cold."

Burying her face in his neck she mumbled, "I'm scared."

"Buffy, look at me."

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Cause I can't look at you yet."

He chuckled, "Why not?"

"I feel silly."

"For?"

"For being scared."

"Would it help if I said I was too?"

She froze, "Are you lying?"

"Nope."

"Not just saying that to make me feel better?"

"Nope."

"Not just saying that so I'll look at you?"

"Nope."

"Why are you scared?" she asked, still not moving her face from his neck.

"Buffy, that's starting to tickle," he said, moving slightly to push her to look at him.
No luck. She just buried her face in his shoulder instead. "Please look at me, luv. You've got nothing to be afraid of. Let's talk, baby, come on."

Pouting slightly, Buffy leaned back and finally looked up at him. "Why are you afraid?" she asked.

He grinned, cupping the side of her face with one hand, "Because I've never felt this way before and I don't want to lose you."

She sighed. "Spike. . . you. . . never? I mean. . . never?"

"Never...?"

"You've never been in love before?"

"No, I never have. You know this."

"But, I mean . . . Sam? Not even a little bit with Sam?"

He shook his head, "Nope. I cared for her, but I did not love her."

"Then, how do you know what you feel for me isn't the same thing as, you know, the caring?"

He straightened, and sighed, collecting his thoughts. How was he going to explain something that he didn't exactly have an answer to? "I reckon when you feel love for someone, you know. It's not a checklist you check off, but more of a feeling in your gut, and in your heart. There is a difference in the way I feel about you than I've felt about any woman I've been with."

"Even Harmony?"

He groaned, "Especially Harmony. There's this intensity I feel where you're concerned. I rather sometimes feel like a caveman. I have an intense desire to protect you, to keep you secreted away so that no one else can ever touch you, or have you, or hurt you. Do you have any idea how jealous I was of Angel?”

Buffy smiled, “Really?”

“I wanted to rip his limbs off and then beat him with them.”

Buffy laughed, “Angel thought you were.”

“Did he now?”

Buffy nodded, “He did. I believe he made a reference to you peeing on me once to stake your territory.”

Spike laughed, “I have to hand it to him, that’s a good one.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I was really jealous of all those women.”

Spike smiled, “So I heard you say.”

“I don’t know when it happened . . . it just did gradually over time I think. Just one day there it was, all set and ready for me to avoid, deny and repress.”

“Gee, love, thanks. You know how to make a guy feel special, you know that?”

Buffy giggled and detached herself from him, settling down on the patio chair. She looked up at him. “I don’t do well with this stuff. You know how independent I am.”

“I do,” he agreed, nodding.

“And you know that I am hesitant in engaging in a relationship with you for, you know, reasons.”

“I know that as well. I’m not exactly known for my monogamy.”

“And then you live so far away...”

“You can move. You can be a realtor here as well as in Boston. There are houses here too, you know. Big ones, just waiting to be sold.”

Nibbling on her bottom lip, Buffy stared at out at the sights. “That’s a ...lot, Spike. That’s big. Huge. Ginormous. And after a couple of shared ‘I love you’s’? That doesn’t seem realistic.”

Moving a chair so that it was facing her, Spike sat down and took her hands in his. “We’ve known each other for how long? You just said yourself that you’ve felt this way for a while now, Buffy. Well, so have I. It was there, unrealized, and now it’s realized as the thing looming over our heads all this time. It’s not just after a couple shared ‘I love you’s’. You make it sound as if it just happened when it’s been happening for a while—“

“And while it was happening, you were with half of L.A.,” Buffy blurted out, retracting her hands.

Spike sighed heavily and shook his head, “Buffy—“

“I’m sorry. Look, it’s just . . I just said ‘I love you’ which is a feat within itself as it is. Talking of life changes—“

“Isn’t falling in love with someone a life change on its own?”

“As I was saying, life changes such as moving across country is something that has to be put on hold for now. And I mean even talking about it.”

“You setting the rules now Buffy? I thought this was going to be a team effort kind of relationship, not a one-sided one,” Spike said, bitterness resonating in his tone. “I think it’s worth discussing what will happen once your vacation is up in a week and a half. It’s not like we have an extended amount of time to ignore it and then deal with it.”

“Why are you getting so upset with me?” Buffy demanded.

“I spent most of my relationship with Sam being told what to do, Buffy. It might not seem like it, but I did learn that it’s a matter of give and take in a relationship and not just one setting all the rules. I don’t think we should be scrambling around trying to figure out what you’re going to do at the end of this vacation when you have to go back.”

“I also don’t think it’s something that we have to decide right this second, or even tomorrow or next week!”

“I understand that--

“Then why are you getting so mad at me?”

“Because I’m scared!” he jumped up then, reaching for his cigarettes on the table, and lighting up. “I’m scared to lose you, I told you that. I just . . . I just got you, Buffy. I don’t want to risk you meeting some other kind of Angel bloke when you have to go back. What if you meet someone else and you decide its less work to be with them? Then there’s all the trouble that comes from dating a celebrity. If you’re out there, it’s a lot harder for me to protect you and keep you from it. Hell, being out here it’d probably be even worse. They’d hound you at work – “

“I thought you were trying to get me to stay here with you?”

Spike took a deep drag. “I am. I’m just . . . thinking out loud. You wanted to know why I was afraid, well, I’m telling you why.”

Buffy nodded, “Okay.”

Throwing his cigarette down on the floor of the balcony, and stomping it out, Spike came back over to Buffy and sat down across from her once more. “Bet you didn’t think I’d have more fears than you huh?” he asked, tossing her a nervous grin.

“Spike—“

”Can I just finish?”

She nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

“See the thing is, Buffy, you know my past with relationships. They’ve been shoddy at best. Not really real and not really much with the loyalty. I had a bad try at marriage, and for a long time the whole experience left a bad taste in my mouth. I’m not completely daft you know. I do know what a relationship takes to work, I’ve just never had to apply it is all. I’ve done a lot of taking, but not a lot of giving. With you though. . . Buffy, I want to give to you. I don’t just want to take. I want to give you everything I have, and everything I am.” He took a deep breath, “So, yeah, I’m scared. I’m scared that I’ll fuck up. I’m scared that if I do fuck up, you’ll leave me. And I’m not talking the kind of fuck up where I cheat on you. I . . .I couldn’t do that to you Buffy. You mean far too much to me. I’m afraid that you’ll meet someone else and that dating me and all that comes along with being with me, will be too much for you to want to deal with. I’m afraid that I’m so new at this, all I’ll do is stumble and fall and you’ll get tired of dealing with it ...This is new for me, this being in love, and ... God, I’m petrified.”

Buffy sat in awe at the man before her. She’d never seen him so open, so raw and so . . .vulnerable. It was amazing. It was inspiring.

“Spike, that was . . . that was so beautiful,” she breathed.

He stared at her as if she’d gone mad. “Beautiful? I just poured my guts out to you, Buffy, I wasn’t feeding you a line here, I was baring my soul here.”

“I know, and that’s what was so beautiful about it. God, I’m so envious.”

He blinked, “Are you off your bird? Why are you envious?”

“That you can do that. You know how they say that in a relationship both have something to teach the person they’re with?”

He nodded in agreement.

“You have to teach me to be so in touch like that. To communicate on such an open and raw level. I want to be able to give that kind of emotion back to you.”

“That was... that was a good thing?”

She nodded profusely.

“You don’t think I’m a complete Nancy-boy for it?”

She laughed and launched herself at him, straddling him and wrapping him up in her arms. “Not a Nancy- boy at all. That made you a man. A man can tell you how he feels and mean it. A boy can either lie to you, and to himself, or tell you what you want to hear. You spoke from the heart. You spoke from a place that is very real and not at all fake. That is what’s going to help us Spike. I have a lot to learn from you.”

He smiled broadly, “No one’s ever had a lot to learn from me before. Especially not in a relationship.”

Leaning in, Buffy kissed him softly, “Well, I guess I’m your first in many ways then.”

“Buffy,” he breathed, and devoured her mouth with his. His kisses were urgent and hungry and Buffy felt the desire pooling between her legs. She wanted him. Question was: Was it too soon to have him?

What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing. ~ Oscar Wilde

Spike’s hands on her back, on the skin of her back, were warm. Yet, somehow they managed to create shivers throughout her entire body. She kissed him back with as much as intensity as he doled out, reconciling herself to the fact that this was going to happen despite how incredibly nervous and afraid she was. Her hormones were in the driver’s seat now and Spike was right there, waving them on.



And then the phone rang. Spike’s cell on the table right next to them went off, the ring a series of bells and whistle’s. He pulled back and looked up at her with regret. “That’s Alicia.”



Buffy furrowed her brow. “How do you know that?”



“That’s the ring I chose for her. It’s loud and gets my attention right away.”



Buffy slid off his lap and handed it to him, “Better get it before she goes to voice mail.”



“Hello?” he answered, looking up at Buffy, worriedly. “Hi baby, what’s going’s on?”



Buffy smiled. This was a first. Usually Alicia didn’t call her father too often. Apparently the little girl was feeling that the lines of communication were open and he felt accessible to her.



He mouthed, “You mad?” to Buffy who in turn looked at him as if he were nuts. Vehemently, she shook her head. How could she be mad about his daughter calling him? What kind of woman would she be if she did? Well, that was glaringly obvious, actually. She’d be Harmony, and possibly every other girl that he’d dated. The idea of it made Buffy’s blood boil. How could those sniveling little brats get upset that Spike’s daughter would call? Didn’t they know that she came first before all them?



Looking back on the women in the past though, she could see where the problem lie and why Spike would think she was actually mad that Alicia had called during their prelude to sex. However, instead of feeling disappointed and put off, Buffy was pleased and relieved. Pleased that Alicia felt she could call her father and relieved because while she wanted Spike, she wasn’t ready yet. She felt as though things were still new, and with being still new, quite fragile. Sex had a way of complicating matters and muddling minds. Buffy wanted to keep a clear head and explore her relationship with Spike without sex first.



“Yes, baby, we can go back to the store and get the green lamp instead of the red,” Spike was saying, a smirk on his handsome face. He was soaking the attention up.



Alicia was apparently chattering on and Spike entered his bedroom; he was a pacer when he talked on the phone. The man could not sit still for anything. Buffy followed and sat on his bed, watching him move about the room and then finally leave the room to meander down the hall. Smiling, Buffy lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, exhaustion creeping into her limbs as her second wind wore off. Yawning, she stretched and closed her eyes, thinking she’d excuse herself to go to bed when Spike came back in.



********



Padding back into the room, chuckling to himself after his conversation with Alicia, Spike found a passed out Buffy on his bed. He stopped, smiled and stared. He didn’t want to wake her as she looked so peaceful, and he knew she’d been tired from their day. Hell, he was exhausted too.



Alicia on the other hand, she seemed to have all the energy in the world. Apparently, she’d been rethinking some of her purchases for her room and had called to ask if she could change a few things. Then she’d told him about how she was going to her friends house the next day and that she really didn’t like this friend because she was bossy and actually liked Harmony the non-singing sensation. Spike, for the first time, really played a Dad with wisdom and advice to share, and told his daughter how to handle this friend. His daughter had informed him she couldn’t wait to tell her how he had made Harmony cry.



Sitting down on the bed and watching Buffy sleep, Spike drank her in. “What’ll I do if you leave?” he whispered. Reaching out he moved a strand of hair away from her face and fingered it slightly, feeling the softness of her hair. “I want you to stay here with me where I can keep an eye on you. Where we can build on this great thing we have. Can you understand that?”



Getting up, Spike walked to the other side of the bed and grabbed the folded up blanket at the end of his bed, lay down next to her, and covered them with it. He watched her chest rise and fall with the steadiness of her breath, watched the way her nose twitched slightly and how her eyelashes fell on her cheeks.



He’d spent a lot of time in bed with a lot of women. He’d done a lot of things in bed with women, but he never, he realized, loved any of them the way he was currently loving Buffy – and they weren’t even touching. He loved just being next to her, knowing that she was there by his side, standing by him. It was the first time in his life he ever felt that someone was actually there because of him, not the persona, not the fame, not because they thought they could get something out of him, but because of who he was as a person. It was an amazing feat, especially since he spent the first half of his life feeling like a nobody and the other half treating others as if they were the same. As a result, he felt like nobody because of it. It was funny how things came full circle like that.



And now he was with someone that made him feel like somebody simply because she took the time to get to know him. Not the persona, the “famous guy”, but him. The heart of him. William. William who needed love, craved it and reached for it all his life until he handed his life over to Spike who took it, but never really had it. He only had the posers, the fakeness of it all. He became one of those users he thought he’d never become while William raged inside of him, clawing his way out, desperate to find peace with himself.



Being allowed to be himself was the greatest gift Buffy ever gave him. For once, he was comfortable in his own skin and it was all because she wouldn’t settle for anything less than him being him. Yes, he’d fought it at first, feeling that he wasn’t good enough still, but she hung on, stayed by him and more and more that guy that he was supposed to be came out.



He wasn’t just Spike or William now. He was a person. He was a father. He was a man. For the first time in his life, he felt like a man. For that, he could not let Buffy go. He needed her. She grounded him, and kept him sane. He was also beginning to recognize that there was someone else that did the same for him.



Alicia.



His precious little girl that he took for granted for so long. Others came and went, but Alicia was forever. Buffy, too, was forever. He knew it. Her heart was made of tough stuff and she would hold onto him through the storm – as long as he didn’t do anything to muck it up.



He’d meant it when he said he would never cheat on her. For to cheat on her would be to lose her, and any man with half a brain in his head would know better than to let a woman like Buffy go.



For the first time in his life, he could picture his future. A future that did not consist of photographers, fans, interviews, his acting -- none of that. Instead, he saw his future with his daughter and Buffy by his side. Going on vacations, eating dinner together, having ‘family talks’ – being the bloody Brady Bunch if that’s what it took to set down roots and have a sense of stability in his maddening world. Now that he had it within his grasp, he hadn’t grasped how much he needed it. How much he wanted it. And he did, oh boy did he want it and need it.



He could see in his mind’s eye Buffy swelling with his child. Could see them not here in the penthouse, but in a real house where Alicia had her own room and bathroom. Where she had a backyard to play catch with him in. He could see his baby girl holding her little brother or sister, being the big sister that would teach him or her the ropes. He wanted it all – being up late worrying about Alicia being on her first date, late night feedings with his new little one that Buffy bore him, summer barbecue’s and family gatherings. Yes, he wanted it all.

Now he just had to convince Buffy.

Women love us for our defects. If we have enough of them, they will forgive us everything, even our intellects. ~ Oscar Wilde

Buffy woke slowly, stretching her limbs, yawning, and trying to somewhat fight wakefulness. There was nothing better than finding that one comfortable spot in bed and just basking in the warmth and solitude. That was until the bed moved and it wasn’t her moving.

Her eyes popped open. Oh. She wasn’t in her bed. She was in Spike’s – with quick reflexes she lifted the blanket to check if she still had clothes on. She heaved a sigh of relief. She did.

“Hey baby,” Spike murmured huskily in her ear, wrapping his strong arms around her and spooning up behind her. “How’d you sleep?”

“I think I rather passed out. I don’t remember anything past Alicia calling.”

“Yep, that’s what happened. I came back in and you were out cold.”

She yawned, “Oh, then I slept like a log. You?”

“Same. I’m thinking for the rest of your stay you should share my bed.”

Buffy grinned, “Oh I should huh?”

“Yep. You slept well, I slept well, we slept well together – there must be something to that.”

Buffy giggled, “Must be. And why tempt fate by sleeping in separate beds and risking a horrible nights sleep.”

“See? You get it.”

“Have you been awake long?”

“Nope, I think we woke up at the same time. I looked over and saw you stretching.”

“Mmm...this bed is comfortable. There’s a pocket right here that’s all warm and perfect.”

“I hope I’m helping the perfection of it.”

“You are. It’s a perfect little spot, but when you hold me, it just makes it that much better.”

“I’m glad.”

“What did Alicia have to say last night?”

“Oh, everything,” he chuckled. By the tone of his voice, Buffy could hear how pleased he was that she’d called.

“You know I wasn’t upset that she called, right?” Buffy asked.

“Yeah, I just . . . ya know...”

“Forgot who you were with?”

“Like that’d happen,” Spike muttered.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he sighed, causing some of her hair to ripple across her neck. “I remember if I even mentioned Alicia, Harmony would get jealous. Jealous of my daughter. That’s fucked up.”

“That’s because Harmony is fucked up. She’s a child. A selfish, pampered child.”

“Tell me how you really feel.”

Buffy giggled, “Don’t worry, I will.”

“Buffy?”

“Hmm?”

“Could you tell me again?”

Buffy smiled at the sudden vulnerable tone to his voice. He sounded like a little boy. “Tell you what I think of Harmony?”

“No. . . You know.”

Turning so that she was facing him, his hair rumpled and curled from sleep, his eyes still at half mass, Buffy’s heart swelled. Never had she felt so comfortable waking up with someone before. Times in the past when she’d gone to bed with someone, there was a moment of awkwardness in the morning. She had always felt the urge to wash her face and brush her hair, to fix herself so that she appeared alluring and somehow not human, but ethereal. She felt she could never get comfortable enough to chat, and certainly didn’t want to face them with morning breath. But now, now here with Spike, she didn’t care that her hair was matted to her head, that her makeup had probably run down to her cheeks and that her breath reeked. Spike was not only the man that was in love with her, and she loved back, but he was her best friend. What she felt for him was the right mix of comfort and excitement.

The look on his face was hesitant, as if he didn’t think she’d say it. It occurred to her that maybe he thought she’d take it back.

When she’d first seen Spike, she’d seen him as someone that was full of life and energy. He had a spark about him; he was charismatic and fun. Engaging. The way he treated those around him spoke to her of someone who had a big heart. She had thought that whomever he was involved with must be very happy and vice versa.

Then she met him and thought him nothing but a cad, a playboy. A charismatic playboy – and weren’t all playboys charismatic? – but a playboy nonetheless. And a dog. In the true sense of the word. A dog that sniffed around looking for the next companion, someone to lead them and give them love. Someone to scratch under their ears and tell them how good they are. As she’d delved deeper into him, she’d seen how true that was. He’d adopted a “face” that he thought everyone wanted to see, and some of it was an act, and some it truly was him. He never garnered true love or respect from those he took up with, and it wasn’t just women either. Not to say that all of them were out to use and abuse him, but those that were never did see the true man. He’d had to learn to play a part, and that part became assimilated to the real him. The charismatic Spike wasn’t a bad person; there were qualities about him that William had needed to acquire. It was just too much for him to be Spike all the time, and Buffy could see where it had worn on him. There had been times where she’d called him to find him depressed and unwilling to leave the house. It never lasted long, but looking back, Buffy could see now where those times were him being exhausted with keeping up appearances. Those were the times where he shut out the world –all but her it seemed anyway.

It was fitting too, that they found each other. While Spike spent his time trying to draw people in to have love him, Buffy spent her time pushing people away that could love her. She’d set up a system of unattainable standards for any man to get close and then never thought it the fault of her and her incredibly high principles, but the fault of “them”. The proverbial “them” that dared try to penetrate the fortress of Buffy Summers. “Them” that she clumped as Neanderthals out to club her and force her into a Betty Crocker lifestyle. She never let people in close to her out of her own fear of getting hurt or losing her identity. How perfect was it that she end up with someone that had already been hurt time and again and had already in a sense lost his sense of self, his identity. They each had a missing piece to them that the other had to offer. They fit that way.

So, it was without reservation that Buffy said it. “I love you, Spike.”

He smiled, beamed really. “And I love you,” he told her.

She smiled back, feeling a part of herself awaken and start to grow. She felt warm all over, encompassed with love. She felt for once that she was able to give love and receive it without a list full of reservations. She still had some, because well, this was her, and yes, it scared the crap out of her, but it helped to know that he was scared too. It made her feel as though they were both on equal ground and not one ahead of the other.

“So, what are the plans for today?” Buffy asked, cuddling up to him, tucking her head under his chin.

“Anything you want. This seems rather nice, doesn’t it?”

“Definitely.” Taking a moment, Buffy took a deep breath. “Spike, I...I wasn’t ready to...that is, I wanted to, but I wasn’t ready to—“

“I know, Buffy. I wasn’t either.”

She pulled back to look at him, “How is that possible?”

He smiled softly, “Because it’s more than sex. I don’t have to have sex with you to love you. In fact, I was watching you sleep last night and thinking how I’d never loved someone by just laying next to them. Loving you is so amazing, Buffy. . . I think I might explode when we finally make love. And that’s the first time I’ve ever called it ‘making love’.”

She nodded her understanding. “I just want to be on the right track, you know? It’s still so new and sex has a way of convoluting everything...I want to be sure we’re on the right track before adding another layer to it, you know?”

“I understand completely.”

The phone ringing on his bedside table made them both jump. Laughing, Spike reached for it. “Hello? Hey there Jack...that’s--- tonight? Damn, I completely forgot. No, no, I just have company....from out of town. I know, I know, I did make a promise and ... hey, can I bring – okay, thanks. See you tonight.”

Buffy watched as Spike hung up the phone and sat up against the headboard with a heavy sigh. “And that was?” she asked, sitting up as well and facing him.

“How do you feel about having the first test as my girlfriend?”

“What do you mean?”

He raked a hand through his hair, further ruffling the curls. “I have a charity benefit tonight. All cast members are to attend. It was a promise we made a while back when the show ended for the summer. It’s supposed to be the cast of my show plus other shows on the network. It’s a dinner, dancing thing—“

“You mean a ball?”

“Yes, a ball.” He looked at her nervously and started to fidget with the sheet on his lap. “Come with me?”

“Yes, I’ll come—“

“Buffy, I want you to think about it for a minute. You’ll have to get a dress—that I will buy for you—there’s going to be press everywhere covering it. Some of them are not so nice, especially to those that are not ‘stars’. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Buffy nodded resolutely, feeling a challenge in this, and if there was one thing Buffy never backed down from, it was a challenge. “Yes, Spike, I want to go. We just said that we wanted to make sure we were on the right track, right? So, what better way to begin than to face the first challenge?”

“Buffy, I just,” he shook his head. “I don’t want this to scare you. This won’t be like when we go out to lunch and I get noticed – this is an affair with a whole bunch of fake actors getting their pictures taken and putting on a show.”

She cocked her head to the side, “Are you trying to scare me?”

“No, I’m trying to prepare you.” He sighed, “And yeah, maybe I am trying to scare you. Only because I want to protect you.”

“Protect me or you?”

“Both of us. Do we want our first challenge to be a charity benefit surrounded by paparazzi?”

“If I’m going to be part of your life then I have to start somewhere right?”

“I rather think sex would be easier, Buffy,” he said dryly.

“I don’t want to have to hide our relationship, Spike. That’s not how I want to live.”

“Buffy, you’re going to be right out there, you won’t be able to hide after this—“

“The more you warn me, the more I want to do it,” she told him firmly.

“You’re bloody stubborn, you know that? Can’t ever put a dare to you can I? Just makes you want to do it all the more doesn’t it?”

She smiled, “Yep. It’s not a bad thing, you know.”

He looked at her grimly. “It’s not a completely good thing either.”

“How bad could it be?”

He narrowed his eyes, “Great. You realize you’re now going to be bloody eating those words.”

If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they’ll kill you~ Oscar Wilde

Buffy was starting to wonder if she should worry more than she was, or if Spike was doing enough worrying for the both of them. She had to chuckle to herself when she thought about how he went from asking to her to go with him to the ball, to trying to frighten her away from going. He was right, too. Putting the fear of God in her, setting a challenge like that to her only made her want to do it more. It was the same with work and sticking it to Riley Finn. The more he sold, the harder she worked to prove herself not only to her competitor’s, but to herself as well. Sometimes she was a tad too hard on herself, but she got the job done and it was the reason why she was one of the top realtor’s in Boston.

And that was yet another reason why she was feeling hesitant about moving. She’d have to start from scratch and learn the market in an entirely new environment. She well remembered what it was like starting from scratch, and the idea of having to do it again made her cringe. But looking at Spike. . . seeing his smile, feeling that fluttering feeling in her chest when he came in the room, well...she was lucky to remember her name at that point.

He’d spoiled her that day, taking her out to find a dress and all the accessories she needed to go with it. It was a process. From shoes to jewelry to purses. . . she was exhausted just from the shopping! Now she knew why these celebrities spent months before an engagement getting prepared. Though he did have impeccable taste. He’d picked out a lavender strapless gown with a form fitting bustier that formed a point at her waist before flaring out to her feet, and had a slight train. He’d nearly drooled when he saw her in it, so she knew it was the right choice. And just when she thought they were done, he took her to the hair stylist.

As she sat perched in the hair -dressers chair she frowned at him in the mirror as he stood behind the stylist. Without asking her opinion, he’d told the woman to go ahead and fill her head with curls.

“What?” he asked.

“The way I do my hair is wrong? Do you not like it?”

He rolled his eyes. “You honestly think that?”

“What other reason could there be for me having to sit here?”

His expression softened and he came round, kneeling beside her. “Pet, the way you do your hair is perfect. I love your golden locks. My Goldilocks,” he grinned.

She gave him a look. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, and then held up his hands in surrender when she started to glare at him. “This is how it’s done.”

“How what’s done?”

“Parties like this. Hollywood parties. Charity benefits hosted by celebrities. While I know how fiercely addicted you are to your black dress from the Gap, it’s just not going to cut it at this kind of thing. I want to make you blend, not make you stand out. Less pressure that way. Think of it as getting pampered for a day.”

She stared to acquiesce to his way of thinking until the stylist yanked a chunk of her into the iron and nearly scalded her scalp.

She didn’t want to be pampered anymore.

********

The drive to the benefit (in a limo) was filled with Spike giving her the do’s and don’ts for dealing with the paparazzi. By the time they’d arrived, Buffy’s head was swimming and all she’d gotten out of his diatribe was: Don’t talk, just smile. Simple enough, though she wasn’t usually one for keeping her mouth shut for very long. She didn’t want the world – his fans – to think that he was with some half-wit. She wanted them to see that she was a smart girl, and not the trophies he usually went out with. In that way, he’d probably gain even more respect; maybe gain a larger following if people saw that William Giles had substance. All hopes on that were dashed though, as it appeared her job was to be nothing more than a done-up mute. The feminist in her was scratching to get out.

Her excitement grew the closer they got to the event, an upscale restaurant known for its lavish parties and celebrity gatherings being the place the benefit was being held at. And when they arrived, her breath caught in her throat. She gulped. People were everywhere and most of them, it appeared were the dreaded paparazzi. Flashes of camera lights were constant, so much so it was if there were a thousand strobe lights going off.

“Buffy, look at me, pet.”

Tearing her wide eyes away from the crowd, she focused in on Spike.

“You all right?” he asked, worried. “If you want to back out now—“

She shook her head, and gathered her wits about her. Terror might have been building up on the inside, but she was not about to let him know that. Nor was she going to let him down. She would not fail at this. No way.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just took me by surprise. You see these things on TV and in pictures, but to actually see the enormity of the crowd...”

“Buffy—“

“Spike, I can do this.”

It was against his better judgment; he decided as he drank in the bewildered expression she was trying her best to suppress, but he knew if he forced her to not go through with it, she would find a way out of the limo and into the crowd. Which, he knew, would be like sending Little Red Riding Hood off to the Big Bad Wolf. If there was any Big Bad there, it was him, and he was the only Big Bad Buffy would encounter.

He took a deep breath and took her hand. “Okay, let’s do this. I’ll get out first and hold out my hand. You take it and we go in. We’ll make nice, pose and chat with a few, but just a few, and only about the benefit and nothingabout our relationship and we go in, okay?”

She nodded. “One mute coming right up.”

“Buffy,” he said on a weary sigh.

“I’m just kidding, go.”

And they were off. As soon as Buffy’s feet hit the ground, the literal red carpet, she was blinded by the thousand strobe lights in the crowd. Blinking, she held on tight to Spike’s hand and let him lead her.

Putting on a smile she hoped did not look fake, she walked by his side, gripping his hand. He hammed it up, waving and smiling to the onlookers, to the press, to the entire monstrous crowd. He was, Buffy decided, amazing. He didn’t appear nervous at all. Instead he was smooth and charming. Spike was working the crowd, the vast crowd, instead of them working him. Her smile, as a result of watching him, was now beaming. This was her man, and she was going to stick by his side no matter what.

********

Buffy felt more at ease as they progressed further away from the throng outside and made their way slowly inside.

“Mr. Giles, may I have a word with you?” A tall woman in an elegant dress stepped in front of them, blocking their way inside to sanctuary. She held a mic that said E! on it and Buffy studied her, thinking she’d seen her on some show on the channel.

Spike smiled charmingly, “Of course.”

“First, may I tell you how handsome you look tonight?”

Buffy nodded appreciatively at him. He was so handsome in his tux, it was a wonder they’d made it out of the apartment. All she’d wanted to do was jump him when she saw him in it.

Spike smiled graciously, “Why thank you.”

“I see you’ve brought a date to this star studded affair.”

Spike nodded, “I did. And what an affair it is huh? Raising money for AIDS. Can’t think of a better reason to come out on my summer vacation.”

Buffy was clear blown away. The reporter took that bait and Spike reeled her right in. The next few minutes were spent discussing what he’d been doing on his vacation and then he was off.

“Wow,” Buffy muttered as they walked away, “You’re good.”

Spike chuckled and lifted her hand to kiss her palm. “Been playing this game for a while now, pet. Learned a few tricks of the trade.”

Buffy beamed up at him. “I think I’m star struck.”

“By who?”

She smiled, “You.”

He chuckled, “I’ve always been this dashing, luv. You just never noticed before.”

“Must be the tux,” she said matter-of-factly.

He grinned, “Must be.”

It was a shame that the next two interviews couldn’t have gone as well as the first. The one that came after would not take the bait so easily and instead wanted the scoop on the “Made Harmony Kendall Cry” rumor. Spike graciously excused himself when the woman would not stop her line of questioning. Buffy resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the woman as they moved on. The third interviewer of the night – god, how long was it going to take to get inside?—blatantly flirted with him right in front of her! It was too much to ask of her to stand there and smile. Buffy glared at the bimbo as openly as the bimbo flirted. Thankfully, Spike maneuvered them out of that situation before Buffy’s claws had to come out. She was becoming well aware of the animal magnetism Spike exuded and she was not above clawing eyes out if that’s what it took to stake her claim.

Finally, they entered the enormous ballroom and Buffy let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Better, luv?” Spike asked, smirking down at her.

“Much.”

“Should be smooth sailing from here on out,” Spike told her. “I think we’ve faced the worst.”

Buffy’s eyes widened in horror.

“What?” Spike asked. “What is it?”

“Now you’ve jinxed it!”

Illusion is the first of all pleasures~ Oscar Wilde

“You did great out there so don’t get all nervous now,” he warned her.

Now? He tells me not to worry now? After all that talk in the limo? she thought. Well then, she decided I could be an actress if I fooled him into thinking that was easy.. Truthfully, it was daunting to say the least. She felt as if everyone had been staring at her, sizing her up and judging her. The fact of the matter was though; no one gave two craps about her. Well, they were curious, but the person they wanted to know about was Spike. They might be curious as to whom the new arm candy was, but they wanted to hear it from him, not from her. Somehow, being the “arm candy” made it that much harder. She couldn’t put her two cents in and show what a smart woman she was. All she could do was smile and nod. The feelings were contradictory at best. On the one hand she felt safe not having to say anything and essentially being a “nobody”, and on the other hand, she felt even more on display being a “nobody” and felt as though she were being judged harsher because of it. She was a peasant and Spike was the Prince.

It was absolutely ridiculous, and she was putting entirely too much thought into it she decided as Spike was given their seating plans. She just needed to relax as Spike had suggested and just enjoy herself. Besides, this night was not about her and it wasn’t about him. It was about raising money for AIDS. Getting in charity mode, Buffy took a deep calming breath and took in the area around her as Spike led them to their table.

“Wow,” she breathed. The place was gorgeous, no doubt about that. The room was large and bright, with enormous and ornate bouquets of flowers dispersed throughout the room in what appeared to be oversized Grecian urns. The floor was a smooth Rosetta tile and the walls a smooth cream. Beyond what appeared to be a makeshift stage at the far end of the room, was a veranda, and before the stage was where the dancing was to take place. She was so going to have to check out the veranda later. Tables, covered with maroon tablecloths and vases filled with rich red roses were scattered all over the room, and before the extremely fragile and gorgeous china were AIDS awareness ribbons made into pins.

“You all right?” Spike asked, stopping to study her.

“Yeah huh.”

“Buffy, close your mouth.”

She clamped her mouth shut and looked up at him. “Sorry. That was uncouth of me wasn’t it?”

He smiled gently, “I’m sorry. This is your first time at something like this. I’m used to coming with women that have that ‘been there, done that’ attitude to events and places like this.”

“I’m sure a few more of these under my belt and I’ll feel the same way, but for now, I can’t help but gawk. This place is gorgeous!”

Reaching out, he tucked some curls behind her ear. “No, I don’t want you to be world weary like them.” He looked around, “This place isgorgeous. Maybe tonight I can try my hand at seeing this all through your eyes.”

“Does that mean we’ll sneak off later to check out the veranda?” she asked mischievously.

“Of course.”

********

It was with great pleasure that they were being seated with one of Spike’s co-starts, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and, accompanying Wesley was Winifred, or, Fred as she was often called for short. Buffy had had the pleasure meeting Wesley and his wife before and thought them to be wonderful, down-to-Earth people she knew. Both of them would give the shirts off their backs to anyone they cared for. Buffy was sure that from Fred she could learn a lot about being the significant other to a celebrity. Part of it seemed to be taking it all in stride, which Buffy felt, she was doing a stand up job of so far.

While the four exchanged hugs and pleasantries, another couple joined their table and something about the woman in that pair made Buffy’s radar go off like the bell on a trolley. She was just. . . dark. That was the only way to describe it really. She had dark wavy hair, dark eyes that were outlined by black eye makeup and she had ruby red lips that contrasted seductively against her pale skin. She wore all black as well, her gown floor length and sleek. She smiled at Spike upon approach as if she knew him...in the biblical sense. Buffy watched and waited, giving no indication that she felt the need to drape herself around Spike so that the dark temptress knew he was taken. She eyed the woman’s date, checking for signs of jealousy or uneasiness. There were none, in fact, the strapping young pup’s eyes darted about the place as if he’d rather be wandering the huge ballroom instead of being by the woman’s side.

“Well, hello there handsome,” the woman purred and sauntered over to him.

Spike cleared his throat and turned to her, “Hello Faith. How are you?”

She smiled brilliantly. “I’m good now.”

“Whose your date?” Spike asked.

Faith frowned slightly, “His name’s Warren. And who is this?”

Buffy didn’t like the way Faith looked at her, as if she were a peon and should bow down before her.

Before Spike could say a word, Buffy held out her hand, “I’m Buffy, Spike’s girlfriend. And you are?”

“You don’t know who I am?” Faith asked, her ruby red lips turning up into a sneer of disgust.

“Well, I wouldn’t have asked if I knew... “ Buffy replied smoothly, trying to keep the patronizing tone down to a minimum.

Faith narrowed her eyes. “I’m from the show Vixens. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

Buffy shrugged, playing non chalance. She had heard of it, but she wasn’t going to tell Faith she had.

“You’re his girlfriend?” Faith laughed. “Is that what he calls you or what you call yourself?”

Buffy was ready to go off on the girl, her fingers curling into fists as Spike took hold her arm, holding her back. “That’s what I call her, Faith.” Spike said firmly. “I’ve known Buffy for a long time now. She’s my best friend.”

Faith snorted, “Of course she is.”

“Well then, why don’t we sit?” Wesley interrupted gallantly. “Shall we?” he said, gesturing to the table.

Thankful for that, Buffy smiled at Spike with fire in her eyes as he pulled out her chair for her. He smiled back reassuringly and kissed her cheek as she sat down, whispering in her ear. “I love you.”

It worked like a charm. Instantly, she relaxed.

********

Later when the speeches had been made and the first course had been brought round, Buffy excused herself along with Wesley to answer the call of nature. She only went because if she didn’t, she’d piddle all over the rug. Wouldn’t that have been something?

The thing was, leaving Spike with Faith was the last thing Buffy wanted to do. She took comfort in the fact that Fred was sitting with him, and he was in a room full of people that would – what? Tell her if something happened?

God, she hated herself for even having those doubts about his fidelity. He loved her. He loved her. He wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t cheat on her. He wasn’t that type of guy. . . except that evidence had proven he was that kind of guy. He’d cheated on Sam and well, others. This was different though. This was different because he loved her. He loved her.

And isn’t that what all women told themselves? It was the same old song and dance wasn’t it? ‘Oh he’d never…’ ‘He wouldn’t even look at another woman’ ‘He changed for me because he loves me.’

She shook her head; she had to stop this train of thought. It wasn’t healthy. Her stream of consciousness would only lead her down a bad path of mistrust and doubt.

“Buffy, you all right?” Wesley asked as he led her to the bathroom. She was really getting tired of having to be ‘led’ everywhere.

“I’m fine, I’m just – uh, Wesley?”

“Hmm?”

“Were Faith and Spike…that is, did they…I mean I never heard of them together…”

“They were never together.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “How is that possible?”

Wesley laughed loudly before answering. “Spike refers to Faith as a preying mantis. I believe he’d been afraid that if he were to involve himself with her, she’d suck the life right out of him. She’s got an even worse reputation than he does. She’s got a tremendous jealousy streak and considers anyone she’s interested in as hers. She’s quite scary, I hear.”

“Great,” Buffy muttered.

“Not to worry, Buffy. Spike wouldn’t let her hurt you.”

“Well, if she tried, I’d concern myself over her instead of me.”

Again, Wesley laughed out loud before the split ways to enter their respective bathrooms.

Coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Buffy found Wesley in the small hallway the bathrooms were in studying the floor in great interest.

”Wes? What are you doing?”

“My damn cufflink fell off and without my glasses, I cannot see at all,” he replied, aggravated.

“I’ll help...and why do you not have your glasses?”

“My publicist tells me I’m found more desirable this way. Like I care ...I’ve got a wife! However, it’s all for the good of the show and my so-called career.”

Buffy grinned. This was why she loved Wesley. He didn’t care for appearances and the ‘game’. He just wanted to do his job and be done with it. She wished Spike could have met him when he was first starting out, maybe things would have been different having another perspective on things.

Combing the patterned carpet with her eyes, Buffy spotted it right by Wesley’s foot. “Don’t move!” she nearly shouted. “I see it!”

“Where?” Wesley asked as Buffy rushed over.

“Right by your foot,” she told him and bent down to grab it in front of Wesley who was bending as well. “I got it!” she told him and grasped it in her hand, starting to unbend herself when, right out of a slapstick comedy, a curly ringlet got caught on the button of his pants. How in the freaking hell did that happen? she wondered.

Wesley froze. “Buffy?”

“I’m stuck,” Buffy said, trying to yank her hair out.

“Interesting,” someone muttered behind them.

Looking up, Buffy was blinded by a camera flash.

“Hey!” Wesley and Buffy both shouted as the camera girl took two more photos.

“Oh crap,” Buffy muttered as the girl ran off.

“Buffy, what in the hell are you doing?”

Spike.

Looking up as best she could, Buffy donned a fake grin. “Hi honey!”

There is much to be said in favor of modern journalism. By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, it keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community. ~ Oscar Wilde

“Buffy, what the hell are you doing?” Spike demanded.

“Don’t be upset with her—“ Wes started at the same time Buffy did.

“I was helping Wes get–“

“She got caught getting my—“

“Cufflink!” They both finished at the same time Buffy yanked hard, tumbling to the floor.

Spike frowned and held out his hand to help her up.

Gratefully, she took it and allowed him to help her stand. “Were you coming to look for me?”

Spike eyed them both, “Yeah, Fred was afraid Wes got lost without his glasses.”

Wesley rolled his eyes, “For Heaven’s Sake.” And he strode off.

Buffy giggled, “Poor Wes. I have a feeling Fred’s about to get an earful.”

“Yes, well, I should give you an earful.”

Buffy sighed, “I leant down to get his cufflink and my hair – the hair might I remind you, that you wanted me to get done—got caught on his zipper.”

Spike shook his head. “Buffy...”

“It was an accident! I was trying to be helpful.”

“Maybe you should try less.”

“Why are you getting so upset with me? It’s actually quite comical if you think about it – “

“Because what if someone came along and misinterpreted what you were doing? Like I just about did, if I didn’t know you better. It’s all about appearances Buffy and since you’re my date—“

“You mean your arm candy,” she hissed, getting royally pissed.

“You know that’s not true, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I know it when we’re alone, but once we’re here it’s all ‘be quiet Buffy, don’t make a wrong move Buffy, stay by my side Buffy’—“

“I’m doing it to protect you!”

“Protect me? Or protect you? I marvel at your sudden concern for ‘appearances’. Appearances didn’t seem to bother you any when you were busy fucking half the women in L.A.!” She started to stalk off, but he grabbed her arm forcefully and pulled her back.

“Do you realize what you walked into tonight by coming?”

She opened her mouth to reply but he stopped her by holding up his hand.

“This is a different world than you’re used to,” he explained, calmer now. “Have you ever read the rags, Buffy? Do you ever stop and see the outrageous headlines that don those magazines? Their job is to get dirt. Their job is take something as innocent as you helping Wes find his cufflink and turn it into you cheating on me in the bathroom.”

“I know, but—“

“No, you don’t know. You think just because it was innocent, that others will see it that way. Or that they won’t talk, or that they won’t come after you. You’re mistaken. They will. You don’t live in the spotlight like I do. You don’t have your every move catalogued and shown to the world like I do. Yes, I live my life still, but I know the tricks and I’m used to being in the spotlight. You’re not. You live your life hidden from these sorts of things. You can go out of your house without being recognized. I can’t. And now, because you’re here with me, you can’t either. This is a major event Buffy and you’ve now been earmarked as my date. They’re going to want to know who you are, where you came from, what you do. So when I tell you to stay by my side and not speak with the press, it’s not because I’m trying to be a dick, or because I’m trying to suppress you or make you docile ‘arm candy’. It’s because I don’t want your good name to be splashed all over the rags and made fun of or dissected. I’m trying to protect you, not me. I don’t give a rat’s ass what they say about me. They’ve been saying shit about me for years – some good, some bad. I just want to protect you from the bad that I know can occur. And do you know why, Buffy?”

“B-because you love me?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

“You make it sound as if I’ve been acting up all night or something! I haven’t. I’ve been on my best behavior. Even to that Faith bitch and I hate feeling like I have to walk on egg shells all the time and constantly worry if what I’m doing is all right and if I look okay. . . “

“Welcome to my world.”

“Your world sucks.”

“Do you want out of it, Buffy?” he whispered, fear in his voice.

She looked up at him and shook her head, “No, I don’t. It’s part of you and I love you. I just don’t like feeling as if I have to please them and you. I feel like I can’t breathe. I’d rather just focus on having a good time and being with you.” She held up her hand. “I do solemnly swear to not get my hair caught in anyone’s zipper for the rest of the night.”

He laughed at that and hugged her close. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t breathe or do anything right.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she mumbled into his neck.

“It’s okay, luv, I don’t blame you. I should know by now. I believe your mantra is ‘I am woman, hear me roar’?”

She giggled, “Yep. Hey, did dinner come yet?”

He smiled wide and gazed at her, “That’s your other mantra. Yes, it did. Let’s go.”

********

Dinner went smoothly, and now that the air had been cleared, Buffy felt much better in regards to her ‘place’ by his side.

Well, better except for one annoying, little thing: Faith.

The woman had no class whatsoever. She was rude, loud and obnoxious. She didn’t shut up, and, she didn’t stop making lewd innuendo’s to Spike. Spike, for his part, ignored her, changed the subject, spoke with Buffy and joked with Wes. Faith, though, the annoying little gnat that she was, was making things difficult.

“Do you want to go check out that veranda now?” Spike asked in her ear, kissing the shell of it.

At Faith’s glare, Buffy smiled her agreement.

Standing, Spike held out his hand, ever being the gentleman, and led her to the veranda. It was even more gorgeous outside than inside. A garden was just beyond the veranda. A huge garden with a water fountain smack dab in the middle with mermaids and giant fish statues.

“Wow,” Buffy breathed.

“Beautiful?”

“Gorgeous. Don’t you think its gorgeous?”

Spike smiled down at her and drew her into his arms. “You’re so very good for me.”

“Am I now?”

“Yes, you are. You keep my feet planted on the ground, you put me in my place and you make me appreciate the finer things in life.”

“Such as...”

“My daughter being number one, love being number two, and taking time to actually see what’s going on around me. I don’t always stop to ‘smell the roses’.”

“Well, I don’t think that stopping to smell the roses is necessarily something you can attribute to the hazard of being in your world. I think that a lot of people often times get caught up in their own lives and problems and don’t often take a step back and appreciate the finer things in life. I’m not always good at it myself.”

“Don’t leave me,” Spike whispered in her ear.

Buffy froze, “What?”

“Don’t leave me, Buffy. Stay here with me. I need you.”

“And you have me.”

“I know I have you, but I ...I need more. I want you here with me. I want you with me everyday.”

“Spike...”

“Please.”

“Spike—“

“Spike, we need you for photos.”

Their heads turned to see Wesley standing in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Spike sighed heavily and looked down at Buffy. “Come with me?”

Buffy shook her head, “I’d rather stay out here and get some air. And hey…no one is out here. No press, no cufflinks, no zippers…”

Spike chuckled. “All right. Stay put, I’ll be right back.”

Buffy saluted him and he swatted her bum, chuckling as he and Wesley made their way inside.
Taking a deep breath, Buffy inhaled the sweet fragrance of the garden. Closing her eyes, she let the warm breeze wash over her.

”Don’t leave me.” Spike’s plea rang in her ears and stirred up her emotions. Sighing, Buffy looked up at the night sky for answers. She started to hum an old 80’s song and then started to sing it aloud. “Should I stay or should I go…If I stay there will be trouble, but if I go there will be double… so come and let me know… should I stay or should I go…”

“So it doesn’t appear you’ll be breaking into the biz with your lack of singing talent.”

Buffy abruptly stopped singing and rolled her eyes. Just what she wanted: Faith.

Turning slightly, Buffy donned a bright, albeit fake smile. “Hello Sunshine.”

Faith smirked at her. “I’m impressed Betty—“

“Buffy.”

“Whatev. I’m impressed. You haven’t left yet.”

“Why should I?”

Faith shrugged, “Well, I mean you’re not glitz and glam. You’re actually rather plain. Kind of like that Fred broad. Don’t you feel a little left out?”

Buffy frowned thoughtfully. “Well, do you feel left out?”

“What do you mean?” Faith asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I mean, you’re not glitz and glam. You’re more trashy and whorish. Being surrounded by people with some actual class must make it difficult for you.”

“Guess you’re not exactly the innocence and light Spike makes you out to be, huh?”

Buffy smiled, “Spike knows I’m not all innocence and light. He likes it that way if you know what I mean. Oh, wait. You don’t know what I mean, do you?”

“You little bitch,” Faith snarled and lunged.

Oh crap, Buffy thought as she held out her arms to block Faith’s attack. Maybe I shouldn’t have spurred her on, Buffy thought. Even if she did deserve to be taken down a notch or two or twenty.

Faith slapped her across the face, and Buffy felt the heat from that slap and before she could make a move, Faith was pulling her hair.

“Get off me you psycho hose beast!” Buffy yelled and managed to jut her arms out to shove her, and ended up scratching her in the face. “Who has a cat fight at a charity benefit? Do you have any sense at all?”

“You’re not going to be able to keep him, you wuss! Spike needs a real woman, not a mousey brat!”

Finally managing to gain some leverage, Buffy slammed her heeled shoe down on Faith’s foot. The impact of it, made Faith momentarily pause in her attack, and Buffy used that moment to shove her off. It was at that moment that the camera’s started going off. Flashes of bright light filling up the dark and peace of the veranda and garden.

Buffy froze.

Faith snapped into action. “How could you do that to me?” she wailed. “How could you hurt me?” she said accusingly as tears started to cascade down her face, and she held onto the scratch mark as if it was a gaping wound.

A murmur went through the crowd, a disbelieving murmur and soon they were reporters moving forward to inquire how the injured Faith was, while another throng moved forward to question how Buffy could do such a thing to a Diva such as Faith.

Buffy opened her mouth several times to respond, but her responses were abrupt and cut off before she could get a complete answer out. “No, I didn’t—I wasn’t—She came—No, I didn’t--“

“What the bloody hell is going on out here?” Spike bellowed.

Gulping, Buffy watched as Spike shoved his way in through the reporters, yelling at them to get the hell away. “Leave her alone!” he shouted. Managing to get to her, Spike grabbed Buffy and pulled her to him, bringing her into the safety of his arms. “Let’s go home,” he said and guided her out.

Buffy felt numb. Turning to see Faith, she saw the woman hamming it up for the cameras and reporters. Someone had brought her a wet cloth for her cheek and she held it there while pouting her ruby red lips and batting her fake eyelashes.

“I didn’t…” Buffy murmured.

“What, baby?”

Two plump tears fell down Buffy’s cheeks. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I was defending myself.”

“You can tell me all about it in the car,” Spike muttered and with purposeful strides, practically dragging Buffy with him, made his way out of the party and to their limo.

Never speak disrespectfully of Society. Only people who can't get into it do that. ~ Oscar Wilde


Buffy settled in the limo feeling a wave of homesickness wash over her. She wanted to go home and have the comfort of her bed and blankets. She wanted the comfort of her apartment, to have that ‘I’m home and safe’ feeling wash over her and calm her rattled nerves.

She was not a weak woman by any stretch and yet, at that moment, she felt weak. And stupid. Colossally stupid. It seemed the mishaps she’d had over the course of the night had done nothing to show her how she belonged with Spike in Spike’s world, but how she very much didn’t. Spike and Buffy alone fit like a hand and glove, Spike and Buffy in his world – his reality – was like oil and vinegar. Somehow, she became a bumbling idiot in the face of reporters and celebrities.

How did that happen? What happened with Wesley was so innocent. All she did was bend down to get his damn cufflink. . . and Faith…God, Faith! She should have kept her mouth shut. She should have just ignored the woman and gone to find Spike or Fred. She should have just . . . She was supposed to just take that? She was, wasn’t she? She was supposed to just let Faith say all the nasty things she wanted, let the whore flirt with her boyfriend, and just spend the entire night in silence. And why? Because somehow it was all for the greater good.

“Buffy, what happened?”

Buffy looked over at Spike who was watching her intently. He didn’t appear mad at her, but he didn’t seem happy either. His expression was blank, though his voice harbored an edge.

“Do you think that was my fault?” she asked, suddenly feeling as if she on trial. By her boyfriend. No, that wasn’t right.

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but you’re thinking it aren’t you? Did you actually believe that display she put on?”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

“You do believe I attacked her!”

“I didn’t say that, but she did have a scratch on her face, Buffy—“

“You don’t have to say it. Your silence speaks volumes!”

“Baby, relax, just calm down—“

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Don’t patronize me William, and don’t call me baby!”

“Then tell me what the fuck happened!” Spike shouted.

Glaring at him, Buffy pressed the intercom button to talk to the driver.

“What are you doing?” Spike demanded.

“I’m going back to the hotel.”

“Like hell you are!”

“I am!”

“Why? So you can run and cry and Angel’s shoulder about what a dick I am? I’m asking you a simple question Buffy and you’re blowing it into something else, accusing me of accusing you. Which, you say I don’t have to say anything and it makes me look guilty, but you’re looking pretty guilty yourself right now, Buffy!”

“I didn’t do anything! She came out and was mouthing off to me and yeah, I mouthed back to her. I wasn’t going to just stand there and let her make me feel like shit about myself just because she’s some fucking celebrity! I don’t care who the hell she is! And you know what? I don’t care who the hell you are either! I felt like I was nothing to you tonight!”

“I explained to you why—“

“Yeah, you explained to me why I had to keep my mouth shut. Why I couldn’t talk, why I couldn’t do anything unless you approved it. What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and tell Wesley ‘fuck you, find your own damn cufflink’? And what was I supposed to do when Faith stood there and insulted me? Taken it? I don’t think so, William. Maybe I need the rules. Yeah, that’s it. Maybe you can make up a book for me to tell me what it is I can or can’t say and what it is, I can or can’t do. I can’t be helpful and I can’t defend myself so what the hell can I do?” Pressing the button, Buffy nearly shouted in the speaker, “Driver, please stop at the—“

Spike lunged across the seat, “Don’t do it. You take orders from me,” he told the driver, and flicked the intercom off.

Buffy glared at him, “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You’re angry with me,” Spike said evenly. “You tell me not to run and to face my problems head on, Buffy. So, I’m going to make you do the same. You’re not going to run from me everytime we have a disagreement. You want to have an adult relationship, then we’re going to have an adult relationship. Starting right now.”

The last thing Buffy wanted to do was cry, and yet, that’s what she found herself doing. And when Spike tried to take her in his arms, she pushed at him. “No,” she said forcefully. “I don’t want your caring now.”

“Buffy, please, listen to me. I didn’t tell you those things to make you feel bad about yourself. I was trying to make you understand what I was trying to do. Why didn’t you say anything then if it still bothered you?”

“Because it made sense at the time. Because until that—that--tramp attacked me and you – you didn’t do anything except yell at a few reporters that were hounding me – it—it made sense! She made me feel like crap, she made me feel like nothing and I’m not,” hiccup, “I’m not nothing. I’m,” hiccup, “I’m Elizabeth Anne Summers and I’m successful and smart and—and—just because I don’t fit in your world doesn’t mean that I’m a nobody. What am I supposed to do? Find the other nobodies in the crowd and only talk with them so it doesn’t get back to the press? Am I supposed to say ‘Hi, I’m nobody, who are you? Are you nobody too?’”

“You could if you were Emily Dickinson.”

She glared at him, wiping furiously at the tears that dribbled down her cheeks. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“I’m trying to make you feel better, I’m sorry. I—“

“Don’t try to make me feel better. You’re just making it worse!”

Sighing heavily, Spike raked a hand through his hair. “I – You’re right. This is hard, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” she took a shuddering breath. “Do you want to let me go to the hotel now?”

Reaching out, Spike dragged her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “No, I don’t want you to go to the hotel. As hard as this is, it’s for the best don’t you think? We need to do this and not hide. We’re both good at hiding. I don’t want to hide from you, Buffy. I want you to be able to talk to me, and I want to be able to talk to you. I don’t want a repeat of Sam.”

“I don’t fit in your world,” Buffy said softly. “I wanted to. I wanted to prove to you that I could do it. That I could fit in. I wanted to prove to them that I was good enough to be with you and you know what I realized? They’re not good enough for me.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Spike murmured. “They’re not. That world. . . it’s as hard and as fake as it’s seductive. You’re hard pressed to find anyone worth a damn. Wesley is about it, honestly. Buffy, I …I went about it all wrong. I fucked up. I was so concerned with trying to protect you and not letting them get to you that I made you feel as though you were nothing. You’re not a nobody, Buffy. Not to me. To me, you’re everything.”

“I just…I just felt like she won. I didn’t get to defend myself and you didn’t…why didn’t you defend me?”

“My instinct was to get you out of there. I didn’t want to add more fire to the flames. The look on your face…You look overwhelmed and scared. I didn’t think, I just reacted. I had one thought and that thought was to get you away from those piranhas. I spent all of tonight just wanting to keep you from getting on their radar so that you weren’t touched by it, weren’t disrupted by them. I didn’t think that by doing that I was only making you feel as if you didn’t matter. I don’t want you to feel that you’re not significant, that you’re not an intelligent woman—“

“I know I am when I’m with you alone, but I just felt that I couldn’t do anything right by you tonight,” Buffy explained, much calmer now.

“Look at me, luv,” Spike said softly, putting a finger under her chin and making her look at him. She did so with some trepidation. She wasn’t used to this kind of intensity. She avoided relationships for this reason, and now she was in the thick of it and felt as though she didn’t know the moves. She could talk a good game to others, but when it came to actually doing it herself, she fell short.

They really were perfect for each other.

“I’m sorry I made you feel as though you couldn’t do anything right. I’m sorry that I put so much pressure on you that you felt you had to not only impress everyone around you, but me as well. I was just . . . I’m just…Christ, Buffy. I’m so afraid to lose you, to scare you off, to have my world scare you off that I made it worse for you instead of easier. I just want to keep you from all that crap so that it doesn’t change you or harm you.”

“She slapped me.”

“What?”

“She slapped me across the face and then pulled my hair. I tried to shove her off of me and ended up scratching her across the face in the process. I’d finally managed to get her off me when the camera’s started going. She made it seem as if I’d attacked her. Yeah, I admit, I mouthed off, but I couldn’t just stand there and let her belittle me like that.”

“As well you shouldn’t. I’m sorry she did that, Buffy. Faith is. . .well, she’s a nasty woman. Bitter and jaded, not to mention spoiled. She’s used to getting what she wants and she’s always tried to get me everytime I’ve crossed paths with her. Frankly, she scares me.” He chuckled nervously and Buffy smiled slightly in response. “She likes to cause scenes and I should have said something to her. I was hoping that she’d stop if I just ignored her. I should have learned however that ignoring her only makes her worse.”

“I want to go home,” Buffy whispered, burying her face in his chest, not really knowing anymore if she meant home to Boston, or home with Spike.

“We’re almost there, luv. Pet, please, please don’t be mad at me. Don’t…don’t hate me. I love you, Buffy. I love you so much and I’m sorry I made you feel as though you had to prove something to me and to them in order to be accepted. Please just know that—“

“Spike, stop, please. I just want to put tonight behind me right now. I kind of want to stick my head in the sand and forget it happened. To quote Scarlet O’ Hara, I don’t want to think about it today. I want to think about it tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.”

Nodding, Spike held her closer to him and kissed her forehead. “Do you still love me?” he asked, and she could hear the fear in his voice.

She looked up at him, “I do still love you. I’m sorry I was such a brat. I’m sorry I tried to leave . . . that was my first instinct. I talk a good game, Spike, but I’m really not good at any of this.”

“Then we have a lot of growing to do together don’t we?”

Buffy nodded and buried her face in his chest once again. Before she felt that her biggest fear of getting involved with him was his track record with monogamy and string of women, and now, well now she felt as though she had a whole other set of fears to contend with. Some vacation this is turning out to be.

To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance. ~ Oscar Wilde

Buffy felt numb. That was really the only way to describe her lack of wanting to do anything except be left alone. It was probably not conducive to the discussion she and Spike had just had, however, she felt she needed the down time to gather her thoughts and asses all that had happened that night.

"Buffy, luv, you coming to bed?" Spike asked after his shower.

Buffy looked up from the rerun of Friends to find Spike bare chested and in blue pajama bottoms.

"I think I'm gonna stay up for a bit," she told him flatly.

Spike sighed, "Buffy, why don't you come to bed? You've had a long night. We've both had a long night, and I'd really rather you not see the news --"

"Protecting me from it isn't going to make it go away."

"No, but why deal with it now? We'll deal with it tomorrow when we're rested and our heads are clearer."

"I don't want to deal with it tomorrow," she said, not caring one bit if she sounded like a petulant child. "I want to know what's happening now. I hate surprises, you know that. And I hate being made to wait and wonder. I just want to get it over with so that I'll know how to deal with it all tomorrow."

"We'll deal with it together."

"How?"

"I'm going to issue a statement to the press."

"What kind of statement?"

"That you're my girl and that what happened was misrepresentation of the fact. That Faith attacked you and you merely defended yourself.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, “You’re going to say that?”

“Why do you seem surprised?”

“I don’t – I just thought that…I don’t know.”

Cocking his head to the side, Spike studied her. “Now, I don’t believe that. Come on. Why did you think that I wouldn’t do that? We just talked about me defending you in the car.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we talked about you defending me tonight.”

“Trust me; the aftermath is just as important, if not more.”

“Will it hurt you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your career, your status. Will it hurt you?”

He stared at her, “Do you think I care about that?”

“Yes,” she said honestly.

“You think that means more to me than you?”

Buffy didn’t answer. Instead, she looked away from him.

“Buffy.”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me when you’re accusing me of not caring anything at all for you. And after everything we’ve been through! I’m not just talking about tonight either—“

Buffy jumped up from the couch and threw up her hands in exasperation. “I’m sorry! What do you expect me to think? I’m just. . . Argh! I’m so –I’m just worried okay? I’m worried about what I did to you and I’m so …fucking angry about everything that happened. Well, mostly just what happened with Faith and . . . “

“And you feel that if I was angry with you too, it’d somehow make it easier?”

“Yes! It would take some guilt away. Then, I could just get angry at you for being angry with me.”

“You just want us to be angry at each other,” he seemed confused.

“Yes!”

“Why?”

She looked away from him again.

He took a deep breath, “Oh, I get it. If we’re mad at each other, then it’d be easier for you to just leave. Is that it?”

Still, she said nothing. Spike felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He stood there, staring at her, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

“You want to leave?” he asked hoarsely. “You want to leave me? Didn’t we just talk about this in the car about you not leaving? About you staying and us working on this together?”

“I’m a woman, I’m allowed to change my mind,” she said lightly.

“No, don’t be glib now. You want to leave me.”

“I don’t want to leave you!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “I don’t. I just thought maybe deep down you wanted me to. That it’d make it easier for you after tonight. And since I hate the idea of you leaving me…”

“You thought you’d go first.”

She nodded, “I’m sorry. I’m just. . I don’t know what’s going on in my head. I just suddenly feel overwhelmed. I feel like I don’t know the moves…”

“The moves?”

“What to say, what to do. I mean, say that what happened tonight blows up into this major thing. Do I defend myself in public or say ‘no comment’? Would that incriminate me more or prove my innocence? And what will it do for you?”

“You’re thinking too much.”

She shrugged, “It’s my gift, it’s my curse.”

Spike shook his head and ran a hand through his wet, tousled curls. “Buffy, you got in a cat fight with Faith. This isn’t Watergate. You’re blowing this way up. You’re making it your life. Stop making it your life and how you’re going to be defined from here on out and how I’m going to be defined from here on out. You know what I’ve always admired most about you?”

“My penchant for knowing useless information that always enables me to win at Trivial Pursuit?”

He laughed, “No, but that is amazing to me. We should play against Sam and Ryan.”

Buffy giggled, “You’re evil.”

He shrugged, “It’s my gift, it’s my curse. And, it got you to smile.”

“That it did.”

“The thing that I’ve always admired about you Buffy is the fact that you know who you are.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah ‘oh’. All the women I’ve dated, some your age, most younger and some even older—“

“That’s happened?”

“Ha bloody ha. Can I finish?”

“Proceed.”

“Let’s just put it this way: Most of the women I’ve dated and most of the men I have known –especially in this business – have no sense of self. They don’t know who they are. They spend their lives looking for their identity, looking for ways to fit in and for ways to define themselves. Most of them look to outside sources to do it for them, never looking inwards to figure it out. I should know, I’ve done it. You know it, I know it – what about my actions have declared that I know who I am? That I do not need some trophy to define me? You, Buffy, you know who you are. You’re strong and smart and opinionated. You’ve got your feet firmly planted on the ground and once in a while you take a trip in the clouds, but you never lose sight of who you are and where you’re going. It’s absolutely amazing to me. Not to mention inspiring. You make me put my feet on the ground and you challenge me to look inside me to figure out who I am and what makes me tick. I bet you don’t even know you do that, do you?”

She shook her head; the look on her face was one of awe.

“That’s what I’ve always admired about you. It’s what I’ve always loved about you. And that is just one of the things that is going to get you through this. Who gives a bloody hell what they think? In a week, they’ll be onto something else and they’ll leave us alone.”

“Don’t let the man get you down?” Buffy chirped.

“Exactly. You have the ability to pick yourself up and dust yourself off. You don’t hide from a challenge, you face it head on.”

“Unless it has to do with relationships. Then I seem to fall apart at the seams.”

“No, that’s me,” he told her. “Remember how I’ve avoided them for so long?”

“Yeah, but over the past few hours you’ve been more adult and more ready to put yourself out there and in this relationship than I have. I’ve been ready to bail!”

“So perhaps I’ve taken on some of your traits. Buffy, do you remember when I fell apart—when I came completely unglued? You took care of me. You picked me up at a seedy bar and you took care of me. I never… I never really told you what that meant to me that you did that.”

“Spike—“

“Please?”

She nodded and gestured for him to continue.

“You could have let me rot there. You could have let me wallow in my own self-misery…you didn’t. You let me depend on you and I know that was hard for you. You don’t depend on anyone and you find it hard to understand others being dependant. But I was quite dependant on you to get through that. And it wasn’t just the fact that I was drunk. It was the fact that I had hit the lowest point and I needed something to hold on to that would help me climb out of that barrel. You let me hold onto you and I’m here, standing before you, telling you that it’s okay to lean on me now. That I’m right here by your side and I’m not going to let you fall. You’re not going through this alone and this…this is going to be fine. It’s going to pass.”

“Cause it’s not Watergate?” she said softly.

“Exactly.”

“So, this is what it’s like to be in a relationship huh? All with the give and take and the ‘you be strong this time and I’ll be strong next time’ deal.”

“I guess so. I’m kind of new at this too. Feels right though, don’t it?”

She nodded. “It does. I hear this is how it’s supposed to work.”

They looked at each other and started to laugh.

“Will you come here now so I can hold you?” Spike asked, opening his arms to her.

That was all the invitation she needed, in a flash she was in his arms enfolded in the best hug she’d ever known, feeling the safest and the most loved she’d ever felt.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“For?”

“For making it okay for me to be weak this round.”

He smiled into her hair. “I think the fact that we know each other so well, and the fact that we’re a lot alike is going to work for us instead of against us.”

“Yes, I think you’re right.”

“Will you come to bed now?”

“Oooh…part of me still wants to see it—“

“Buffy,” he said warningly. “Please, luv, come to bed. Let’s just put this whole thing to bed for tonight okay? It’ll still be here tomorrow.”

She sighed heavily and that gave way to a yawn. “All right, you’ve persuaded me.”

“Thank you.”

Hand in hand they made their way up to Spike’s bedroom.

“Spike?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think it’s possible that someone caught what really happened and came forward?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“But you don’t really think so.”

“I doubt it.”

“This is when it’s okay to lie to me.”

“Okay, someone might have caught what really happened and will come forward.”

“Yeah, but what are the chances of them believing that one person?”

“I thought I was lying to try and help you feel better, luv.”

“Yeah, sorry. Thanks for the effort though.”

“Anytime, pet.”

There is only one thing in the world that is worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about. ~Oscar Wilde


She shouldn’t have woken up. Rather, she shouldn’t have gotten up and found Spike when she heard the muffled yelling he was doing. Her first instinct had been to burrow under the covers and hide, shut out the world just a little longer.

Always follow the first instinct.

She didn’t think it would have mattered if she’d seen the news the night before or not. She slept like crap without seeing it anyway. Maybe in fact she would have slept better had she seen it. Then there would be no wondering what they’d say and how she’d go about defending herself, or if she should. She’d admired how Spike had slept through the night without a problem. She knew that because everytime she’d turned toward him in her efforts to find a comfortable position that would enable her to sleep, he’d been sleeping soundly. A bomb would have gone off and he wouldn’t have been bothered. Course, as admirable as it was that he could sleep through anything, it was also rather annoying because she could not. She contemplated playing practical jokes on him. One involved shaving cream in his hand and then tickling his nose, the other involved sticking his hand in warm water – that would have been simultaneously gross and funny.

It was funny how juvenile her mind was when she was overtired.

So, when she heard Spike downstairs yelling, she’d contemplated ignoring it since she’d just fallen asleep three hours before that. In the end though, she couldn’t ignore it. He was obviously upset about something if he was yelling and she should go see what it was— despite the fact that her body and her groggy mind were begging her to stay in bed.

Climbing out, she didn’t bother to do anything to herself except use the facilities. Her hair was a matted mess, but did she care? Not in the least. Which was really kind of funny. She was with one of the most sought after men in Hollywood, a man that women fawned over and would do anything to be in her shoes – and she didn’t care that she had massive bed head and morning breath. She was friggen tired!

Padding down the stairs, she could hear Spike’s end of the conversation.

“I don’t bloody care what they’re saying about her! Let them dig up what they want. ...That bloody bitch...well, if you know she is then why are you yelling at me?”

She stopped, frozen, staring at him as he paced. He looked so tense. It was coming off of him in waves and traveling straight to her. Swallowing hard, she waited for him to notice her.

“No, I’m not doing that. I told you I’m going to issue a statement. ....I have to ask her. I’m not going to make that decision for her!” Spinning around, hand half way through his hair, he spotted her. “I have to go,” and he hung up.

“Well, that was a quick good-bye. Makes me wonder why you didn’t do that in the first place when he or she started to make you yell, “Buffy said, feeling quite calm despite the fact that she was most definitely sure the ‘she’ they were referring to was her.

Spike sighed heavily, “That was my publicist. He’s all up in arms—how are you, baby? Feeling okay?”

“I slept like shit.”

“Oh. “

”So, um, what’s going on? What’s Randy the publicist all up in arms about? Did he not like your tux?”

Spike rose a brow. “Feeling saucy this morning eh?”

“Not really. Just masking my apprehension through sarcasm. How bad is it?” she asked and flipped on the TV. Regis and Kelly were on and from the looks of it, she was the topic of that morning. There she was in all her glory, trying to explain to reporters how she’d been attacked and she was most certainly not attacking Faith, and then the camera panned to Faith who was spouting big crocodile tears and wailing to the camera about her scratch and how she was just trying to be friendly and –

Spike shut the TV off. “Don’t need to watch that crap, Buffy.”

“Why not? I’m going to be living it aren’t I? Well, I actually already did. I sure don’t remember it happening the way she said it did. And hey—she must really be a good actress to cry on demand like that. . . . Why didn’t you tell me I looked fat in that dress?”

“You’re quite glib this morning,” Spike replied, grabbing his mug from the coffee table and taking a sip.

“I’m exhausted and stressed. This is how I deal with being exhausted and stressed. I get glib.”

“Randy wanted to know what the hell happened. Faith’s publicist called, wanting to issue a demand to me on how to apologize for last night.”

“Apologize huh? That’s interesting. So apparently the publicist o’ Faith is choosing to keep with the lie.”

“Yes, however, there are a few rags this morning – and TV rags as well, who have a different version of the truth. Buffy, one thing you’ll learn in this business, there are several versions of the truth.”

“What’s that saying? There are three versions to every story – his side, her side and the truth? Something like that.”

“Well, it’s all a something like that.”

“Yeah, she sucks, you know that?”

“Don’t I?”

“And how can you apologize to her?”

“By escorting her out to the world premier of some movie that’s opening next week.”

“Oh Jesus. What is she thinking?”

“That we’ll take a few pictures together, she’ll get to make me feel like I crawled on my hands and knees for her forgiveness, thereby denouncing you, and she’ll try to seduce me.”

“That fucking—“

“I’m not going, naturally.”

Buffy nodded, “I know.”

“Randy called because I never called to tell him what happened last night, and he had to wake up to Faith’s damn publicist issuing demands. Figured speaking with Randy would pave the way for me to agree to go. He was more upset about being left in the dark and having to muddle through the mess this morning than anything else. He went on about how they’re going to dig up your background—“

“My-my background?”

“Everyone wants to know who you are now. They want the scoop.” He said it so casually, as if it were an everyday occurrence, as if it happened all the time that random strangers would be digging up your past and your life and – in his world? They did just that. She was new blood. They wanted to dig deep, find any scandalous morsel they could retrieve and exploit her—exploit them.

What would they find anyway? That she slept with a stuffed pig named Mr. Gordo that she’d had since she was five? That she stole once, but then her mother made her bring back the stolen candy bar and apologize? Buffy had seen it before, and scoffed at it. Like what someone did when they were younger had any bearing on where they were now. Unless you had ties to the mafia, stealing at the age of ten was not a big deal, and no reason for Spike to not love her any longer. It was also no reason for the world to deem her unworthy to be with him. They probably would twist any piece of information, twist it all and blow it to make it bigger than it was. Her ten-year-old stint at stealing probably would tie her to the mafia in some way. Or that shopkeeper would be paid off to squeal to the world that she stole plenty of items to feed her starving family --

“Stop.”

Buffy blinked and focused in on Spike, “What?”

“You’re staring off, I can see it all over your face. You’re not even here right now.” He came over to her and held onto her shoulders. “Buffy, it’s okay. They’ll run with this for a bit and then something else will happen and they’ll be on to something new. Remember that.”

“They—they won’t go after my mom will they?”

“No, Buffy, they won’t go after Joyce. Just calm down. Breathe, baby.”

“What else?”

“I’m issuing my statement. Randy is going to stop by later and we’re going to work out my statement.”

“Work out your statement? Don’t you just say it? Wait, no, of course you don’t. You know I’m actually jealous. You get all these people to help you live your life. A publicist to present you and protect you, a stylist to make you over, a driver to drive you to fancy functions, a decorator to decorate your house...I’m jealous. Think maybe I could get all those things after? Or do I have to write a book first? Isn’t that the way it’s done? I ride your coattails and then I write a book – with a ghostwriter of course because why would I write my own book? – And then I’m catapulted to fame for something I never did. I have no talents anywhere except for selling houses. Oh Jesus, what if they get a hold of Riley and –“

“Buffy!”

She stopped abruptly. “I just went off didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.”

“My mind is in a dark place right now. My mind is reeling, it’s actually reeling. That’s what it means when you think a thousand thoughts at once right? My brain is going to explode—“

Spike kissed her hard to stop her tirade. She tried to speak in the kiss and he kept right on kissing her through it. She gave in – why the hell not just give in to his talented mouth and tongue?

Wrapping her arms around him, he held her close to him, and hungrily kissed a path down her neck. His hot mouth felt as if he were going to devour her.

”Allow me to distract you, Goldilocks,” he murmured against her skin.

Buffy knew she was in big trouble the minute she felt his lips nearing her tank top covered breast. Oh God, she thought, that feels so good . . .

“Can I?” he whispered huskily, as he slid her strap down her arm. He looked up at her in question, his blue eyes looking full of innocence. Funny, that.

“Spike...” she breathed.

“Mmmm? Talk to me, Buffy,” he whispered huskily and kissed the tops of her breasts.

“I – I’m not showered.”

“So?”

“I want to make love with you when I at least feel clean.”

He stopped, groaned and straightened. “Got it.”

“Spike, I want to,” she said passionately, feeling the loss of his touch. “God, I want to so bad right now. But I just feel....”

“Dirty?” he smirked.

She grinned, “Yep.”

“Maybe I can clean you off? Tongue bath?” he suggested.

She giggled. She was just about to suggest a bubble bath when the phone rang. Alicia. Buffy smiled and pecked him on the cheek. “If you’re done in time with Alicia, come meet me in the shower,” and she winked saucily before running the stairs. She smiled victoriously when she heard the sharp intake of breath and the groan that followed. She wondered how much hot water he had . . .

The Ideal Man should talk to us as if we were goddesses, and treat us as if we were children. He should refuse all our serious requests, and gratify every one of our whims. He should encourage us to have caprices, and forbid us to have missions. He should always say much more than he means, and always mean much more than he says.~Oscar Wilde


“Hey sweetheart,” Spike said into the phone.

“Well, it’s been a very long time since I heard that from you.”

Spike nearly dropped the phone. It was Sam. “Bloody hell, I thought it was Alicia.”

“No, but close.”

“What can I do for you, Sam?” Spike asked, straining to hear the sound of the shower going. He was nearly crawling out of his skin to get up to Buffy.

“What the hell happened last night? I turned on the TV this morning and there’s Buffy, all over the place. Now I know that girl, she would not do something like that – what did you get her into?”

“Me? All of a sudden this is my fault?”

“Of course! Is she all right?”

“She’s fine.”

“You’re lying. I can tell by your tone. Does Buffy know that tone yet?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Sam, she’s a little strung out about it, but she’s going to be fine. I’m right here and I’m not going to let them get the best of her.”

Silence fell for so long, Spike thought maybe Sam had hung up. “Sam?”

“I’m here. Are you guys, that is, are you guys together?”

Spike took a deep breath, “We are.”

“Don’t you dare break her heart Spike. I mean it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sam. I couldn’t. Did Alicia see anything about it?”

“No, she hasn’t. Not yet anyway. Who knows if one of her friends will clue her in.”

“Will you have her call me if she has questions or concerns?”

“Such the model dad all of a sudden. Tell me, when Buffy goes back, will this still hold?”

“Sam—“

“Look, do me a favor and have Buffy call me, okay? Don’t worry, I’m not going to tarnish your good name, so don’t worry. I’ll let you do that on your own—“

“Samantha—“

“I’m kidding, God! Take a joke.”

“You forget that I know you.”

“Yeah, well. . . look, just have her call me okay? I have had to deal with those mongrels before and while it’s fewer and further between that I ever have to deal with them, I can maybe give her some pointers.”

“So can I,” Spike said stiffly.

“Yes, I realize that, except you’re not the so-called peon here. Buffy is. She needs to know the peon way to deal with them.”

Spike sighed, “I’ll have her give you a call.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

Spike hung up, took a deep breath to release the tension in his body that only Sam could cause, and rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The shower was still running. He grinned and quickly discarded his pajama bottoms, tossing them on the floor as he entered the bathroom, naked as the day he was born.

“Oh, Buu-uufy,” he sing-songed, smiling into the steam filled room and focusing intently on the closed shower curtain.

Her head popped to the side, “Spike?”

“Were you expecting someone else?”

She stared at him, “You’re uh, naked.”

“That’s what happens when you take a shower.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the shower or her shyness, but she seemed to flush completely. “Oh, you’re really going to join me?”

He grinned, “Didn’t think I’d really take you up on that offer did you? Do you want me to join you?”

“I – well, I thought maybe and I kind of did, but then I g-got nervous.”

“Why?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

She looked at him, exasperated. “Why do you think?”

“Cause I get to see all your goodies?”

She closed the shower curtain, “Yeah, something like that,” she muttered.

He smiled and shook his head, chuckling. “Can I come in, kitten.”

He swore he heard her gulp. “Yeah,” she said meekly after a long while.

He didn’t need to be told twice and he was not about to wait in case she changed her mind. Quickly, he pulled the curtain back and stepped in.

His eyes drank her in and his body reacted immediately to her. She was a Goddess. A true Golden Goddess and he wanted to cover every luscious curve and swell of her body with his mouth. He wanted to lay her down and worship her. She was perfection, she was … Yeah, she was a Goddess from the swell of her perfect perky breasts to her flat an toned stomach, the curve of her hip, and her perfectly sculpted legs. She was a vision. She was Helen of Troy. And, she was his.

“Spike?” she said, breaking the silence. “You’re staring.”

“Yeah, I’m staring. You’re bloody gorgeous,” he crossed to her in two steps, mindful not to slip, and took her in his arms. Her hair was wet and cascading in strips down her back. Leaning in, he kissed her wet lips and tangled his tongue with hers. “Do you know how much I want you?”

She had to know, she had to feel Spike Jr. swollen against her stomach. “A lot?”

He chuckled, low and deep, rumbling from his belly. “Oh baby, you don’t even know. Do you want me?”

She pulled back a bit and looked up at him, a playful smirk on her now plump lips. “Oh baby, you don’t even know.”

Growling, he swooped in and kissed her hard, tangling his hands in her wet hair and devouring her mouth. He could feel the desire for her, his love for her, rising within him and threatening to take over completely and before it did, he had to be sure. The last thing he wanted to have happen was have her regret what they did.

“Buffy, baby, are you sure?” he asked breathlessly.

She nodded, “Yes, I’m sure. I want you, Spike. Please, make love to me.”

Needing no further encouragement, he kissed her again and slipped a hand down her back, feeling the perfect roundness of her ass. Playfully, he swatted her and she let out a little squeal before dissolving into giggles.

He smiled, loving the sound of her laugh. “Baby, can we take this--?”

“Oh yes,” she nodded.

Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed for the giant towel hanging up and turned to her, opening it up. She smiled at him and stepped into it as he wrapped her arms around her, effectively wrapping her up in it.

Standing on her tiptoes, Buffy nipped at his bottom lip, teasing him, evading his mouth when he tried to kiss her. He growled and hauled her closer, claiming her lips.

Managing to escape from his clutches, Buffy darted from the bathroom, sans towel with Spike hot on her heels. Running into his bedroom, she spun and lunged at him. They kissed hard and possessively, Spike lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked backwards until he felt his knees hit the bed and they tumbled into bed together. She gazed up at him, smiling and shining in her beauty.

His breath caught, words were clogged in his throat. This was more than sex. This was . . . this was everything.

This was love.

“Buffy,” he said hoarsely, brushing strands of wet hair from her face, “I love you so much. I . . . I can’t even think or breathe with how much. God, woman, I love you.” And he kissed her again.

Wrapping her arms around him, she returned his fervent kiss and moaned in delight. “I love you too,” she murmured.

Spike set about doing what he’d wanted to do in the shower: Loving every inch of her body. She didn’t seem to mind, either. Any shy inkling she had earlier seemed to have been flung out the window as he kissed his way over her delectable body. Laving her breasts elicited a deep moan, and he made sure to pay special attention them, the sounds she made music to his ears.

Spreading her legs to accommodate him as he kissed the insides of her thighs, he grinned against her mound and lapped up her slit. Her eyes shut in bliss and her hands tangled in his hair. “Please,” she whispered.

He too wanted to tease, but at the moment, he was too starved for her to go through with it. Instead, he lapped at her, suckling her clit and tongue fucking her hole alternately. She dug her nails in his shoulders and that only served to spur him on. When she came, he was sure to take in every drop, relishing every sweet drop. Wiping his face on her inner thigh, he prowled up her body, teasing her folds with his cock.

She reached up, “Spike.”

“Yes, baby, tell me what you want.”

“You,” she said simply.

“You have me,” he whispered.

She grabbed his cock with her hand and stroked him a bit before taking his cock and placing it against her clit to rub there.

“My God woman,” he breathed. “You’re a minx.”

She smiled the smile of a woman who knew her power. It was a side of Buffy he’d never seen before and it spurred on the animal instinct in him that told him to claim her hard and fast.

“Please,” she encouraged, “Please, Spike.”

This was it, there was no turning back. He met her eyes and she nodded in understanding. Sliding in, he was encased in the tightest, warmest and wettest pussy of his life. He moaned, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. “Fuck.”

“Mmmm… “she hummed and moved her hips to meet his.

“God you feel so good,” he said hoarsely and slid partly out before pushing back in.

“Yes,” she hissed and thrust back at him.

The rhythm was set and she met him thrust for thrust. They kissed hard, their tongues tangled and they made the bed rock as their pace increased. Buffy egged him on when he lay against her, burying his face in her neck.

“Harder, faster,” she whispered and he obliged, his release soon upon him and desperate to make her cum first.

“Fuck me, Spike, fuck me.”

The dirty words pouring from her mouth spurred him on and when he obliged, she threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream, and a long moan emitted from her.

“Look at me,” he said.

She looked at him, her pussy strangling his cock and she bit her lip, “Come for me, I want to feel you come.”

He nodded, feeling his release rise up through his cock. “Buffy!” he shouted as he came inside her and she arched her back, squeezing him into oblivion once more with her pussy.

“Yes,” she hissed again and wrapped her arms around him as he spurted inside her. Collapsing against her, she rocked her hips, the sensation making his eyes roll up in his head, and she was able to ring more drops of cum out of him.

Their bodies were slick with sweat but neither seemed to mind. He looked down at her, knowing he had to have a goofy grin on his face. She smiled up at him.

“I don’t even have the words for how earth shattering that was,” he told her.

“I think you said that perfectly.”

“Am I crushing you?” he asked softly, nuzzling her neck.

“No. Please don’t move.”

“No intentions on going anywhere, luv. No intentions to go anywhere at all.”

“I think the world just melted completely away,” she said and sighed happily.

He grinned, “Give me a minute and I’ll make it melt again.’

It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you place the blame. ~Oscar Wilde

Spike hadn’t the heart to wake her for the second go round, despite how badly he wanted to. Buffy just couldn’t keep her eyes open for that minute. He smiled tenderly at her, pushing some hair from her face and covering up her naked flesh with his comforter. She’d had a rough night, and then some hot lovin’, it was no wonder she was wiped.

His doorbell ringing knocked him from his reverie of watching his lady love sleep. Had to be Randy the Wonder Publicist. Rolling his eyes, Spike crawled reluctantly out of bed, wanting nothing more than to stay in bed with his girl and stave off the day and the reality of it all just little longer. It seemed however, that the real world came a knocking no matter how much you tried to shut it out. Guess the key was to steal bliss as you could and deal with the muck as it came, as quickly as it came, so that you could get back to the bliss. That was in Spike’s plan anyway. Buffy had about a week left with him and he intended to make it every bit the dream for her so that she never wanted to leave. So that she stayed forever.

But, first things first.

Slipping on pajama bottoms and a t-shirt so as not to hurt Randy’s delicate sensibilities, Spike made his way down stairs, ready to knock the man out if he woke Buffy up with his incessant bell ringing.

In fact, Randy’s finger had been poised on the ringer whilst looking down at his planner. He wasn’t even paying attention to the fact that Spike had opened the door.

“Bloody hell, Randy, Buffy’s asleep. You wake her up and you’ll have me to contend with.”

Randy looked up from his planner and straightened, taking his finger from the doorbell. He rose a perfectly arched brow on his round face. “Really? Rocky herself won’t take me out?”

Spike glared at him. “You know she had nothing to do with that.”

“Yes, I know that Buffy the Saint had nothing to do with it,” Randy said and briskly sailed his semi-pudgy and short body past Spike.

“Are you deliberately trying to goad me?” Spike demanded as he shut the door.

Randy turned, “Yes, I guess I am. Sorry, had a rough morning dealing with Faith’s publicist. I’m just taking it out on you. I think they call it projecting. Or transference. I don’t know. Don’t much care either. How is she anyway?”

“She’s remarkably strong.”

“Well, she has been dealing with you for how long?”

“I pay you to be my publicist why?”

Randy grinned, “I suppose it’s because I give it to you straight, William. Not my fault if you wait until after you fall on your face to listen to me. And, it seems that you’ve finally listened when it came to Buffy, hmmm?”

Spike grinned slightly, not ready to give in just yet to Randy’s goading. “I haven’t done anything because you said it.”

“God forbid,” Randy said dryly, “Then I might actually be accused of doing my job properly.”

Spike rolled his eyes and sat down across from his publicist/friend on a plush gray arm chair. “Did you want anything?” he drawled.

“You actually offering?”

“Not really, just trying to be all polite like.”

“Figures,” Randy said, frowning slightly. “No, I had coffee, double espresso, before coming over.”

“How nice.”

“Well, I find that I do need the extra energy when dealing with you.”

“Are you trying to say I’m a lot to deal with?” Spike asked.

“Not trying to, blatantly coming right out with it.”

Spike grinned and Randy smiled in return. Such was the nature of their relationship, and neither would have it any other way. This was how they worked, and it worked well for both of them. Despite his gripes, Spike got what he needed from Randy and oftentimes more than he asked for. The man wasn’t much older than he was, but seemed to fit the role of ‘father figure’ quite well. Randy huffed when Spike kindly reminded him he had a father already and did not need another. Randy in turn kindly reminded him that while that was true, his father had passed, and he quite clearly needed a hand in some direction. Spike grudgingly listened to Randy, and Randy grudgingly let Spike fall and helped pick him up even while giving him the ‘I told you so’ lecture.

“So,” Randy said, taking out a pad and pen and poising the pen, ready to write on the pad. “What do you want to say?”

“What happened to those fancy contraptions?”

“You mean the recorder? I find them dangerous and so . . . progressive. I like to do some things the old – fashioned way. You think Cary Grant’s publicist had a fancy shmancy recorder?”

“Why don’t you tell me? You were around then weren’t you?”

“Oh. I get it. Comedy. You forget that you are not far behind me, boy.”

Spike grinned, “I remember. I just have to get my digs in when I can.”

“Shall we start? I’d like to stick it to Faith and her publicist as soon as possible. Nothing revs me up more than putting pretentious, not to mention skanky and highly overrated princesses in their place – speaking of – How is Harmony dealing with you being with Buffy these days?”

“Story for another time, mate.”

Randy sighed, “Or not at all since it hasn’t been an issue yet.”

Spike nodded, “Right then. What do I want to say? I want to say that Buffy is my girl—“

“Let’s change that to ‘girlfriend’,” Randy supplied writing now on his pad.

“Right. Girlfriend. I want to say that I love her and my negligence in coming out and introducing her to the world is because I simply wished to protect her from the hounds that would be barking at her feet.”

“Sure you want to say that?”

“Yes. I don’t care if the damn paparazzi like it or not. I’m not doing this for them.”

“Continue.”

“I want to say that Miss Evans was out of line and had become a woman scorned when it became clear to her that I was a man taken hook, line and sinker, by Buffy.”

“You want to go by Buffy?”

Spike nodded, “Yes, that’s a nickname. We put Elizabeth Summers in there and they’ll be hunting her down.”

“They probably already are.”

“Let them have to work harder then.”

“That’s always been my motto. Continue.”

“Where were we? Oh yes. Woman scorned…Buffy did not start the attack; she was merely defending herself against Miss Evan’s apparent lack of social grace and decorum. And, any continuing allegations that Buffy was the instigator or the attacker in this unfortunate circumstance will result in …”

“How about will result in your pondering of a lawsuit based on defamation of character against Buffy?”

Spike smiled broadly, “Yes! Furthermore, if Miss Evans were any kind of lady, she would apologize for her behavior and take responsibility for it instead of hiding behind her desperate attempts for attention and acting her way out of a situation she created.”

Randy finished scribbling on his pad. He looked up at Spike. “That it?”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do. It’s smart, witty and so very . . . snarky.”

“I aim to please.”

“Spike?” Buffy’s voice called out.

Randy grinned, “And on that note…” he said and snapped his pad shut. Clicking his pen closed he tucked it back into his organizer. “I’ll issue the statement as soon as I leave.”

“Thank you, Randy,” Spike said, standing. “Be right there, Buffy!” he called to her and turned to Randy.

“Take care of the girl, “Randy advised him.”Remember to go easy on her. This is all new to her. She’s not used to living in this world; it’s going to take a bit of time.”

“I think as soon as this hurdle is past, we’ll be good.”

“Oh, don’t say that. Things always have a way of coming back to prove you wrong.”

“I’m trying to get the girl to stay here, Randy. Permanently.”

“Don’t push her, that’s my advice. Let things unfold as they will. Especially now.”

“You done giving me my fortune for today?”

“Done. I can see you’re anxious to get back to your lady love,” Randy said and stood. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks again, Randy.”

“Tell Buffy hello for me.”

“Will do.”

********

Buffy was laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling when Spike entered. Her hair was sprawled all around her head and she lay under the black comforter, her pale skin an ethereal contrast against the black sheets.

She cocked her head slightly, watching him come in. “Where’d you go?” she asked as he prowled up the bed, laying against her softly, putting most of his weight on his arms as he stared down at her.

“Randy arrived.”

“Oh? How’d it go?”

“Perfect. He’s on his way now to issue the statement.” Leaning down, Spike nibbled on her earlobe. “Have a nice nap?”

She nodded and then pouted. “I woke up and missed you.”

“That bottom lip is just begging for it. . . .”Spike murmured and tugged it between his teeth before suckling it into his mouth. She opened for him in a kiss that quickly turned voracious and wrapped her arms around him.

“More,” she murmured and tugged on his shirt.

Rising up on his knees, straddling her, Spike watched her with heavy lust filled eyes as he discarded his shirt.

Sliding her hands down his back, she pushed at his pajama bottoms and slid her hand to his hardening cock, wrapped her fingers around him and stroked the shaft up and down, feeling the pre cum that was gathering.

Spike moaned in pleasure at her touch, torn between wanting to savor it this time and wanting to take her hard and fast.

“Off,” she panted, using her feet to push down his bottoms down.

Breaking the lustful kiss they were engaged in, Spike helped her discard his pajama bottoms by rolling to the side and shoving them off. While he did so, Buffy whipped off the comforter, exposing her naked and warm body to his hungry gaze.

Not wasting any time, Spike rolled back over and took a breast in his mouth, suckling it while palming and teasing the nipple of the other with his free hand. Her head rolled back and her fingers twined in his hair, her legs opening and wrapping around him, stroking her wet sex against his erection.

“Fuck, Buffy…” Spike moaned. “Do you have any idea how bloody crazy I am for you?”

“Spike, I need you,” she whimpered, bringing him back to a kiss.

Sliding his hand between them, he slid a finger inside her slowly, easing her apart for his touch and she leaned into him, biting his shoulder softly.

Growling, he spread his finger over her clit and stroked it.

“Yes,” she hissed, “Oh God, yes….”

“You like that?”

“Mmmm…feels so good.”

“Tell me what you want, Buffy.”

“I want you inside me, please.”

Sliding his finger inside her, she moaned loudly and took his finger out of her, brought it to her mouth and licked her juices off.

Watching her do that was all the impetus he needed and slowly, Spike slid inside her, feeling her walls stretch and welcome him. “Christ. . . “ he muttered.

“Mmmm…”

“I love you so much,” he whispered as he loved with his body, his heart and his soul. He felt her in every part of him, so wondrous and full. He wasn’t afraid of it, not like he thought he’d be when the love bug finally hit him. No, he welcomed it openly, reveled in the knowledge that the wonderful creature in his arms was meant for him, made for him and him alone. There was no one else, would be no one but her. “Forever,” he whispered.

“Yes, yes,” she whispered back.

She was lost in her passion and he knew it, and yet he hoped she knew what she was promising to him, saying to him. That he was it for her as well, forever.

“Tell me, Buffy. Tell me you love me,” he encouraged her, nearly begging.

“I love you, Spike. I love you.”

He moved faster, the words spreading over him like a warm blanket, her love spreading all over him, easing all his pain, all his aches and distress, filling holes he never knew needed filling.

He was soaring in her arms, flying high, high, higher. . . .

“Buffy!” he gasped and came.

“Yes!” she moaned. “Spike….” and she squeezed him into oblivion, causing ecstasy like he’d never known before.

Collapsing against her, Spike held on, feeling she was his anchor, and after the all encompassing and overwhelming passion that had just overcome him, he felt a surge of emotion inside him bubbling over. Burying his face in her neck, tears escaped -- tears that he was ashamed to show her.

If she knew, she didn’t let on, she only held onto him, stroking his hair and his back, murmuring to him nonsensical words that only he understood and imbibed into his being.

This was love, need and want personified.

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what world calls a romance. ~ Oscar Wilde

After, as Spike and Buffy lay together in his large bed, just lounging and basking in the afterglow, fingers entwined, Spike looked over at her, his eyes glittering with joy.

She smiled at him, amazed that she had made that look appear on his face. Was that a happy ‘I just got lucky’ face that he made, or was that truly all her doing? She chose to think of it as all her doing.

“What?” she pressed, seeing that he was thinking something.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you.”

“What?” she asked, blinking.

“What do you want? Tell me and I’ll get it for you,” he said again, smiling broadly.

“What do you even mean? You mean…anything?”

“Anything at all. You want a star? I’ll lasso one down for you. You want a small country? I’ll buy one for you.”

She giggled at him and rolled into his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. “What do you want?”

“You, just you,” he said simply.

She looked up at him, studying him. “That’s all I want too. You, just you.”

He rolled his eyes, “Come on, there has to be something you want.”

She pulled back a bit to look him fully in the face. “What? You can be perfectly happy with just me but I can’t be perfectly happy with just you?”

He started to squirm, “Well, I guess, I mean – I just want to get you something!”

“Spike, you don’t have to get me anything. You defended me in a very quippy statement to the press – most notably to Faith – and I’m perfectly content that you defended my honor. I’ve been fed, I had a shower, a nap, I’m good.”

He cleared his throat and raised a brow, “You forgetting something?”

She fluttered her eyelashes. “Am I?”

Growling, he toppled her. “Better believe you are.”

“Oh yes, I had great sex too.”

“Love, pet. We made love.”

She smiled up at him softly, her whole expression softening immediately. “Yes, it was making love wasn’t it?”

He frowned slightly, “Did that just make me a chick by saying that?”

“Slightly, but I won’t tell anyone. Wouldn’t want to tarnish your already pristine reputation.”

“I ever tell you how bloody funny you are?”

“Yes, you have, many times. Usually when you’re laughing at me and not with me.”

He chuckled, “Life with you will never be boring.”

“Perish the thought.” She bit her lip thoughtfully.

“There’s that crinkle,” he said, smoothing between her brow.

“Huh?”

“You get a crinkle between your brows when you’re thinking about something.”

“I do?”

He nodded and kissed her forehead, “You do.”

“Quite observant of you, Mr. Giles.”

“Why thank you Miss Summers. It’s part of this new job I have.”

“Oh? And what is that new job?”

“Doting boyfriend.”

“Hmm…I like that. But I don’t know if I like it being described as a job. Though if you wanted to apply for manservant, I’m all for it.”

“Only if you apply for the position of sex kitten.”

“Funny, I thought I had that one in the bag already.”

Spike smiled broadly, “Oh most definitely. Tell me, what were you just thinking?”

“I wasn’t really thinking, I was just. . . wondering.”

“Well?”

“With all the exciting things in your life, don’t you think it’s possible to get bored with, well, boring old me?”

“Buffy, the one thing you are not is boring. You are a very exciting person to be around. Even when you’re trying to be boring, you’re exciting.”

“I don’t try to be boring, I really can be.”

“You’re not. Just sitting down and watching a movie with you is an experience. You’re the only one I know that can find comedy in a serious drama that has no comedy. You have one bizarre mind—“

“You trying to make me feel better?”

“I am, is it working?”

“It is. I like being bizarre.”

“Figured you might,” he said and grinned, pecking her nose. “What about me? Think my lifestyle will be too much for you?”

She could feel the tension in his body as he posed the question, and honestly, she didn’t know how to reply.

“Buffy, come on love, talk to me.”

“Honestly, Spike, I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t want to date the rest of the world while I’m dating you. I imagine that some part of our relationship will always be in the spotlight, but how much? I mean, say we’re out in public having a moment together and our picture gets snapped. Suddenly our moment is not just ours; it’s shared and seen by everyone.”

“That’s par for the course, Buffy, I told you that. I warned you.”

“I know, and I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re not just mine, you’re …you belong to the world. You belong to your fans –“

“No, I belong to you.”

“You know what I mean. They see me with you and they label me. It’s like when I used to see Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt together – I thought, I love—“

At Spike’s growl, Buffy amended that previous statement, “I thought I like him and I like her and I like them together. Then Brad was a colossal asshole and while I used to like Angelina Jolie, not so much anymore for being a homewrecker, so now I have this sort of dislike for Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, but I love Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston together.”

“Was there a point to that?”

“Yes, the point is, that when your fans see us together, depending on what they know of you and what they know of me, they either are for us being happy, or against us being happy. There are those that want you for themselves and wish that we’ll break up and they don’t even know us. And then, there will be those that think ‘That girl seems to make him happy. I really like that William Giles and I hope they stick it out.’ It’s …weird.”

“But is it a weird you can handle?”

“I’m afraid to say yes,” she whispered.

“Why?” Spike whispered back.

“Because if I say ‘yes’, then something bad will happen. I’m getting used to the fact that nothing is sacred and private anymore. You were right in what you said last night. What happened with Wesley and the zipper thing…we were both aware that it was innocent and it was an odd situation to get stuck in, but any media person could come by and convolute it into something else. They really spin their own tale on things a lot of the time and the reality of a situation is often warped into something larger and more extreme than it is. I have to remember that. Like, say, we’re out in public and we have one of our mock arguments. Some paparazzi coming by can bend that as we’re really having words and…God, how do you do it?”

Spike chuckled, “Listening to you talk about it? I’m not so sure anymore. I guess at this point, I’m just used to it. I play the game sometimes, but I try and stay out of it, which is not always easy. The important thing for you to remember here is that we’re in this together. Every step of the way. I will not leave you to the wolves, Buffy, I promise. This relationship is about us, not them. Not the world and not my fans. Don’t you know? I’d give it all up for you, Buffy. All of it. None of that crap means anything to me if I don’t have you.”

Overwhelmed, Buffy buried her face in his chest and held onto him tightly. “Oh, don’t say things like that.”

“Why not it’s true?”

“It makes me dizzy.”

“So if I asked you to stay with me—“

“Spike –“

“As my wife, that would make you dizzy too?”

The basis of optimism is sheer terror. ~Oscar Wilde


Buffy reeled back as if a meteor had hit her square between the eyes. She sat up and away from her lover, and then stared at him. "What?"

He grinned sheepishly, "So you didn't like that?"

"You mean the fact that you just asked if -- did you really just ask, or were you going for a hypothetical...either way, I mean ... what?"

Grabbing her hand in his, he settled his eyes on her, his gaze full of love and adoration. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed it softly before gazing back up at her. "I meant it."

Before he could say another word, Buffy was out of bed like a shot. She was haze of sheets and limbs, grabbing the black sheet with her and wrapping it around herself. "Oh, no, no, no."

"What do you mean no?" he nearly barked, crawling out of bed, and not caring in the least that he was butt naked.

"Okay, that was harsh," she conceded. "Spike, God, you just...we just...I just...and we just...you can't...we can't...I can't....That's such a big step. Gargantuan. Do you really want to get married again? Spike, we literally just got together."

He waved his hand at her, dismissing her, "P-shaw. We did not just get together. All this time it's just been foreplay."

"I don't consider it foreplay when you were spending most of your time foreplaying around with other women."

"Am I still going to be held accountable for that?"

"No, but I'm making a distinct point. You want to write this is off as we've somehow been together all this time, but in reality, we haven't."

“We’re together now though and we’ve been friends for so long, doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Yes, it counts for the fact that we know each other pretty well and from that friendship, fell in love. But, Spike…we just got together and I don’t think you’re ready or—“

“Me, ready? I have been married before, Buffy. You haven’t been married, on the other hand. I know what to expect here, you don’t.”

She gave him a look. “Spike, you hated being married to Sam. You weren’t happy in your marriage so you don’t know what to expect, not really. Maybe the logistics, but I’m not Sam and you’re not the same person you were when you were with her—“

“So you don’t think I can be a good husband? You don’t think I’ve changed at all? Still? You think I’m just going to go sleeping around again?”

“I didn’t say that!” Buffy exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “My God, get off the paranoid train and hop onto some reality here!”

Letting out a frustrated growl, Spike stalked out of the room leaving Buffy standing there feeling helpless.

“Oh no you don’t,” she muttered and went after him. “William Giles, don’t you dare walk away from me like that!”

She found him downstairs already, pouring himself a drink at his bar.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, stalking down the stairs, mindful of the sheet dragging behind her. “We’re in the middle of a discussion and you just take off to get a drink? What the hell is that about?”

He glared at her. “Needed a bit of a reprieve is all. I was feeling attacked and had to get away to clear my head.”

“Oh, I see. But you want to get married and have a mature relationship when you can’t even hash out an issue for five minutes without having to leave the room. That would be one reason why marriage is not something you’re ready for.”

He pointed at himself. “Me? Just me then? This has nothing at all to do with you, right? Of course not, why would it? You’re perfect!”

“I never said that, jackass. I’m not ready for marriage either, and for reasons that have nothing to do with you at all if you must know! If you would have waited half a minute, I would have gotten there. You know, this is so like you. You leap before you look all the time and when you don’t get what you want, you throw up your hands and take off. You’re the one that’s gone on and on these past couple days about working things out and sticking together and not running, but at the first sign of disagreement, you’re walking out.”

“You were rejecting me! What do you expect me to do? Stand there while you tell me all the reasons why I wouldn’t make a good husband to you?” he yelled at her, exasperated.

“I wasn’t telling you that you would be a bad husband, I was trying to tell you that we’re not ready. Maybe I wasn’t forthright with the ‘we’, but I’m saying we are not ready, Spike. We haven’t been a couple for very long. We haven’t done coupley things together, though we seem to be having our first fight. I don’t want to rush into something that neither of us is ready for when we haven’t done other things that couples should do before they start planning those things. Spike, I want to be with you, I do, but God, I’m not ready for marriage yet. I haven’t even decided if I want to move he---Oh, I get it now.” She pointed at him, waving her finger. “That’s what this is about. You think if you propose, I’ll stay.”

He looked away from him, placing his glass down. “Is that so wrong of me to want you to stay here?”

She made a sour face, wrinkling her nose at him. “Spike, you don’t propose to like that to get me to stay. That’s. . . lame. And it feels kind of cheap.”

“Buffy, I didn’t just say that to get you to stay. I do want to be with you, pet. I do want to marry you. Is it so wrong to want to speed up the process a bit? Get us on the right track? It’s not like we have to get married right away, we could have a long engagement.”

“We are on the right track already. We don’t need to get engaged to be on the right track. Spike, so much has happened since I got here and it’s all been quite the whirlwind….and I’m not just talking about me, I’m talking with you. You’ve had some pretty life changing events happen here. You’re remaking your whole life and it’s a fabulous thing, and it’s not an overnight thing, as you well know now. It’s a process you’ve got going here with you and Alicia, and to some extent, Sam. You knew going into this that it wasn’t going to be ‘oh, I’m in her life and it’s great now’. You know you’ve still got work to do and that’s okay. It’s okay to take time because time is what’s going to build that foundation with Alicia and Sam.”

“You keep bringing Sam into this, why do you keep bringing Sam into this?”

“Because she’s going to be your greatest ally with Alicia. Especially when Alicia turns thirteen. She’s a force to be reckoned with now, but you do need her in your quest to make things right with your daughter.”

Sighing heavily, Spike sat down on the couch, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. You could save me a lot of precious time by accepting the reality that I’m always right,” Buffy quipped and sat down next to him, placing a hand on his leg.

He gave her a look, “Don’t push it Summers.”

She smiled, “I’m kidding. Look, it’s the same with me, with us. It’s not an overnight thing. It wasn’t an overnight thing for us to come together and it won’t be an overnight thing for us to stay together. It’s pretty life changing in itself when you fall in love with somebody, even if you’ve known that somebody for a long time, and even if they are your best friend. I don’t want to miss moments because we’re rushing to some invisible finish line that only you can see. And I don’t want to start problems because we’re rushing to that finish line. There are still things we need to get acclimated to and it’s not going to happen overnight, and Spike, that’s okay. All those thing will fall into place…in time. I love you, and I want to be with you and someday I’d like to discuss marriage with you, but not right now.”

“Next week?” he asked hopefully.

Buffy chuckled and shook her head, “No, not then either.”

“I’m getting along, pet. We don’t want to waste forever.”

“You’re not getting along,” she said, swatting him on the leg and rolling her eyes. “We’ve got time. Let’s get through the first hurdle of what happened last night before we get to marriage and all that other stuff. I mean, can you honestly say you’re ready?”

He stared at her for a long time, studying her. Taking a deep breath he shook his head, “Buffy, I . . . I want to say that no, I’m not ready, because I know you think I’m not—“

“Spike—“

He held up his hand, “Let me finish.”

Nodding, she gestured for him to continue. “And part of me isn’t ready. But then I think of my future and what I see in it, and I see you, pet. I see you and me and Alicia. I see a little one of our own. I see a family and a house and big yard. I see barbecue’s and birthday parties and all that stuff that normal families do. I see that with you, pet. And yeah, the thought of you leaving next week does terrify me, and yeah, it did make me jump the gun in asking, but that’s who I am. I do leap before I look, and I don’t always think about what I’m doing. I just know what feels right, and what feels right is you, right here, with me.”

Reaching out, she cradled the side of his face with her hand and looked at him imploringly. “And I’m right here. Spike, I just got you, and even though I haven’t gotten it all figured out yet, I am not going to just up and leave and have that be the end of this. You want me trust you, can you trust me too?”

Leaning his head into her hand, he nuzzled her palm and pressed a kiss into it. “Yeah, pet, I can trust you.”

“Can we take this one step at a time? Please?”

He nodded, “I’m sorry I walked out like that.”

“No, I know your temper by now. And that you were feeling sensitive because you thought I was rejecting you.”

“Oi. Can we make sure that doesn’t get out either?”

Laughing, she lunged at him, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around him. “I just know you oh so well. And you know me so well.”

“Makes us right perfect for each other, doesn’t it?” he mused.

She smiled, “It does at that. Now, what do you say we do the first thing that couples that just get together usually do.”

“And that is?”

Buffy smiled wide and said enthusiastically, “Spend the whole day in bed having sex! And considering we just had our first fight, now we get to kill two birds with one stone and have make-up sex on top of it!”

It is perfectly monstrous the way people go about nowadays saying things against one, behind one's back, that are absolutely and entirely true. ~Oscar Wilde

A couple days later, Buffy sat in Sam’s kitchen, helping her friend make dinner. Currently, she was shredding lettuce while Sam ground up beef for the pasta sauce she was making.

“So, we’ve heard nothing from Faith or her publicist since then. We’re thinking she’s either feeling like an idiot and not going to say a word, or, she’s planning something huge to lash back at him,” Buffy told Sam, plopping the lettuce in the bowl.

“My bet,” Sam said, “Is that she’s just not going to say anything. She’s not a very well liked woman to begin with, not a lot of them understand why she’s even in the business, because let’s face it, she can’t act for crap. I think she’ll run with her tail between her legs without of course letting you know she’s running with her tail between her legs.”

“Naturally,” Buffy said offhandedly, as if she knew the ins and out of these sorts of things so very well. She didn’t, but she was starting to learn. “So,” she ventured, “You think William did well?”

Sam looked up at her, smirking slightly, “You looking for something, Buffy?”

“No,” Buffy replied slowly.

“Yeah, right. You want me to start singing him praises all of a sudden? It’s not going to happen. I will concede that yes, he has been true to his word when it comes to Alicia, and I will also concede that he did a good thing by you, but don’t start thinking I’m about to start hailing him as Man of the Year.”

“Sam?”

“Hmmm?”

“I – I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…for the way you found out about us being together.”

Sam studied her, “You mean when he just came out and told me?”

Buffy nodded, slicing some peppers. “Yeah, I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

“Buffy, you don’t owe me anything—“

“I feel that I do, I mean, you’re Alicia’s mom and we’re friends, I felt that you should know.”

“Well, it does help. There’s been so many women in and – sorry.”

Buffy looked over at her. “Sorry, why? It’s not like I don’t know his track record.”

“True. I guess I just got used to him having a new girl there and not knowing about it, that it didn’t faze me much. And it wasn’t like it was any big surprise, Buffy. I knew something was happening between you too. I told you as much.”

“I know, I – I just felt bad.”

“Why?” Sam asked, near incredulous.

Buffy took a deep breath as she dumped the peppers in the bowl. “Because I remember what you said about how you felt about him.”

“Oh, Buffy—“

“And it made me feel like the ‘other’ woman and I didn’t like that feeling.”

“Buffy, first of all, William and I were volatile together and we both know it. Second of all, it was a different time in both our lives; third, I love my husband despite what I feel for William. My place is with him and I wouldn’t trade any of it to be with William. I don’t want to be with William. I just have to learn to get past the fact that I … “ she sighed, “That I never meant that much to him.”

“Sam—“

“Please, don’t try to tell me that I do mean something to him. He and I would have nothing to do with each other if not for Alicia. I’m all right with that. I can live with it. And you’re the only one he’s brought round that I’ve liked. You’re such a good influence on him and Alicia loves you.”

“So you don’t think she’d mind that we’re together?”

“Mind? She’s going to be over the moon. I think she thinks that you two are already together when you’re around anyway. I’m not sure what she thinks he’s doing with all those other women he’s brought around, but when you’re here, it’s ‘Daddy and Buffy, Daddy and Buffy’.”

“Maybe she knew it’d happen all along.”

“Probably did,” Sam grinned. “She’s a smart kid. She of course gets that from my side.”

Buffy laughed.

“You know who I worry about?” Sam mused.

“Who?”

“You”

“Me?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“Because of the track record.”

Buffy nodded, letting air out between her teeth, “Yeah, it’s a concern of mine too,” she said and tossed in some cherry tomatoes in the bowl. “He gets upset with me when I bring it up, so I try not to, but I worry about it. I mean, he says he loves me and all that and I believe him, I do, but there’s this part of me that wonders…”

“I know,” Sam said quietly, “I understand.”

“And I wonder if it’ll ever go away. You know what I was thinking?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” Sam said smoothly.

Giggling, Buffy threw a cherry tomato at her, “I was thinking that whatever I decide in terms of either relocating here or staying in Boston, I still have to go back to get things in order…and I was thinking that it’d be a test. A test to see if he’d stray and if I could trust him. Is that awful of me?”

“No, I think it’s human of you, Buffy. Just because he says he loves you and you love him, just because he swears up and down that he won’t stray, does not mean that wipes out the past and all the crap you know about him. Besides, didn’t he lie to you the first night you got here?”

Buffy sighed heavily, “Yeah, there is that too. I try to forget that too. Water under the bridge and all that crap.”

“Sometimes water under the bridge is easier said than done. So, do you have any plans in the way of your relationship and the distance?”

“Oh, I go back and forth. I hate the idea of uprooting my life and career… the feminist in me roars that it’d be giving up my life for a man, and the other part of me that…that you know…”

“That’s in love?”

Buffy smiled, “Yeah, that’s in love. That part of me thinks that I don’t want to have that kind of long distance relationship. I’d miss him too much and what would be the point of all this if I were to just live over there, alone?”

“Sounds like you’ve made up your mind to me.”

“Yeah, well, don’t clue him in on anything just yet. Jury’s still out.”

“Yes, because that’s what I do: Gossip with William.”

*********

After dinner and then dessert, Buffy and Sam were still chatting and sipping on wine when Spike pulled up with a sleeping Alicia. He carried her into the house, nearly stumbling inside.

“How was the movie?” Sam asked as she held the door open for him.

“Good, she liked it. She fell asleep on the way home, but only after she told me about her boyfriend.”

Buffy smiled, “Feel better now?”

“I do,” he grinned, “Though; I think she regretted telling me when I told her I wanted to meet the punk.”

Sam shook her head, “And so it begins. Come on, I’ll help you tuck her in.”

Buffy watched as Sam and Spike went off in the direction of Alicia’s bedroom and she smiled broadly. That was a nice scene to see: Spike coming in carrying his tired daughter. It warmed her heart. Stretching her arms over her head, she felt relaxed. Calm. Carefree.

She wondered how long it’d last.

Thinking of going back to Boston filled her with dread. Did she really think she’d be able to leave him? The idea of being without him terrified her. Made her feel alone.

“She tried to tell me she finished the book from the library, but I told her I wasn’t buying it and I’d have to ask you before I got her another one,” she heard Spike telling Sam, their footsteps getting closer.

Buffy stood, taking her wine glass and headed toward the dishwasher to put it in. She smiled up at them as they entered the kitchen.

“Yeah, she hasn’t finished the book she got. She’s addicted to those Sweet Valley books, but she’s just got to read other things than that,” Sam said.

“I figured. So, she might not bring it up so she doesn’t get in trouble.”

“Right. Well,” Sam clapped her hands together and turned to Buffy. “I had a lovely evening, thank you for finally coming over for dinner. Maybe we can have another one, next time maybe Ryan won’t be at a meeting.”

“That sounds nice,” Buffy said smiling.

“Maybe we could even make it a foursome before you go home,” Sam ventured. She looked at Spike. “Well, we’ll see.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “On that note, we’re gonna go. Night Sam.”

“Night William. Goodnight Buffy,” Sam said and hugged her friend.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Buffy sought Spike’s arms, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“What’s this then?” he asked, holding her.

“Complaining?”

“Not at all. Miss me?”

“I did.”

“Think of how much you’d miss me if you went back to—“

“Stop right there.”

“Couldn’t help myself.”

“I know. And, if it’s any consolation, I already know.”

“What does that mean, Buffy?”

“For now, just that. Can we go home now?”

Smiling, Spike pressed a kiss to her forehead and led her to the car. He wondered if she meant that slip of calling his place home, if she didn’t, he wasn’t about to draw attention to it just in case.

This suspense is terrible. I hope it will last. ~Oscar Wilde


Things were settled, that was really the only way to describe it. Buffy and Spike settled into a pattern over the next few days that consisted of making love in the morning, spending the day out and about, going out to dinner and then making love nearly all night. It was a routine they doubted they’d ever get tired of.

Time was winding down and it was winding down much too fast for Spike’s liking. In two short days, Buffy would be returning to Boston and the question loomed over them like a cloud whether or not she’d return. It made his heart constrict to think of her leaving and not coming back for some time. The closer her departure day got, the worse his moods became. He was on edge, and trying to act normal. He was failing miserably at it.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he blurted out one day as they made dinner together. He was chopping vegetables and she was throwing them in the salad.

“What? You want me to chop the veggies?” she asked.

He shook his head and dropped the knife. “No, Buffy, I can’t take this not knowing. You’re leaving in two days and I’m going bloody mad here.”

She stared at him. “I was actually going to talk with you about that.”

“When?” he asked incredulously.

“Over dinner.”

“Well, I want to talk about it now. Blast dinner. Buffy, have you decided? What are you going to do?”

“I have to go back—“

He threw his hands up and started pacing. “Do you have any idea how bloody crazy you’re making me? Buffy, please luv, stay with me, please—“

“Can I finish?”

He stopped.

She took a deep breath. “I have to go back to get things in order with my apartment and work. I don’t know how long things like that take—“

“If you let me and Randy help, no time at all.”

“Spike. Please.”

He held up his hands. “Fine. Continue.”

“I spoke with my boss today. She is looking into getting me a transfer here. She doesn’t think it’d be a problem—“

“When did you talk with her?” Spike demanded.

“This morning. I left a message with her a couple days ago and she wasn’t able to get in touch with me until this morning. You were in the shower.”

“Oh.”

“And I spoke with my landlord, and Willow this morning as well. You ever realize you take long ass showers?”

He grinned.

“Willow has wanted my apartment since I moved in. She’s interested in leasing it. Me, my landlord and Willow just need to get together and bang out the details.”

“So then no time at all?”

“I still need a place to live here—“

“What are you on about? You live here.”

She blinked. “With you?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Remember those huge steps we were talking about?”

“Buffy, it’s ridiculous of you to move out here only to live somewhere else. You come out here to live, you come to live with me.”

She sighed heavily. “Spike?”

“Yeah, luv?”

She looked up at him, with fear in her eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Immediately, he swallowed her in his arms. “Of what, baby?” he nearly cooed.

“Of leaving, of not leaving. Of leaving Boston. I’m scared, Spike. What if it all blows up in my face? What if you do get bored of me? What if--“

“Ssshh,” and he pressed a finger to her mouth. “You have nothing to be afraid of. We’re in this together, remember?”

“I can’t help it. I’ve lived on the east coast for most of my natural life. This is a huge step for me and suddenly it’s all happening so fast...” she pulled out of his arms and this time, she started to pace. “You were in the shower and I was laying there, thinking ‘I can’t leave him. I just can’t do it.’ Thinking of going after being with you these past two weeks fills me with dread. And not because of the cheating thing—“

“Buffy—“

“Let me finish. Not because of the straying thing, but because …I love you and the idea of us being on opposite sides of the country is so…scary and lonely to me. I feel like I just got you and then to have to go away and not know when or how…so when my boss called me back this morning, I had no choice but to charge ahead and ask her to help me out. Then I had to call Willow and my landlord…and now, now I’m frightened.”

“Don’t be.”

She paused in her pacing. “Those are your words of wisdom? Don’t be scared? That’s …so lame, Spike!”

“Come here,” he said, and took her hand, leading her to the table. Sitting down, he pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder and lacing his fingers through hers. “Listen to me. I know it’s a big step for you. It is for me too. The alternative though, is much scarier to me than staying. Who knows when you can come back, and let’s face it, you get so swamped with work, you know that could be months from now. It’s not going to be easy, I know that. It’s going to be an adjustment for both of us, but Buffy, I’m willing to fight for this. For the first time in my life, I’m willing to fight tooth and nail to stay with a woman. And do you know why?”

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because I love you more than life itself and I’m willing to work on this and see it through. Remember all those fantasies I said I had with us having a family?”

She nodded.

“You staying tells me you want it too, and that those aren’t just fantasies, but real possibilities. I love you so much, Buffy. God, I can’t even…” he broke off, emotion choking him up.

Adjusting herself, Buffy straddled him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. “I know,” she whispered. “That feeling is why I can’t not try it. I’m just scared.”

“I know you are. And I’m going to make it as easy as I can for you. Look, you’ve got Sam already, and Fred. Wesley was just telling me that he’d like for all of us to get together. You’ll have a job here, and just think – no Riley Finn to compete with.”

“I like competing with him though. It’s that sick and sadistic side of me that likes to compete and get riled up.”

Spike chuckled, “Okay then, there will be another Riley Finn for you to compete with.”

She smiled against his neck.

“It’s going to be a transition for the both us, and I know mostly for you, but I’m here Buffy and I won’t let you go through this alone. We’ll do it the way we’ve done everything so far—together. I’m proud of you, you know?”

She pulled back a bit to look at him, “Why? How?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d do it. Well, I thought I’d at least have to spend a year or two trying to convince you.”

She laughed, “A year or two? Am I that stubborn?”

“Most definitely. And this . . . you did it all on your own.” He gazed up at her in awe. “You really love me.”

“Yes, Sally Field, I do.”

“That’s it,” he growled and tickled her mercilessly until she was squirming and squealing in his arms. And then, when she was near breathless from laughing, he pulled her close and kissed her hungrily. “Want you now.”

“Mmm,” she murmured in agreement and reached between them to undo his pants. It was positively amazing how insatiable and constantly ready they always were for each other.

Shoving her skirt up and her panties aside, Spike slid a finger inside her and pumped her with his fingers, his thumb making a tattoo on her clit. When she had him free of his constraints, he slid his finger out and she slammed down on him.

Their eyes locked and they shared a moan before she started riding him slowing, taking him in easily and then gliding back up.

The long, deliberate strokes had Spike going mad, wanting to slam into her with the force of his passion. As if she felt it coming off him in waves, she started moving faster, squeezing him with her pussy muscles and kissing him passionately.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered against her lips. “Ride me, Buffy. Ride me hard.”

“Mmm…yes,” she hissed. “You like it when I ride you?”

“Oh yes, love seeing you bounce up and down on my hard cock. You love feeling my cock up inside you so deep?”

“Fuck, yes,” she panted and reached to the hem of her shirt and whipped off her shirt.

Growling, Spike nearly tore her bra off and suckled at her breasts, pushing them together and teasing her nipples with his tongue. Digging her fingers in his hair, she flung her head back and rode him even faster.

“Do it, Buffy. Ride me hard. Do it… Cum for me…” Spike said breathlessly, reaching between them and rubbing her clit in circles.

Her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she gasped, “Spike!” and came all around him, squeezing him into oblivion. Two hard thrusts and he came inside her, gushing his cream inside her body, and bathing her womb.

She collapsed against him, wrapping her arms around him and he held her close, nuzzling her neck.

“I love you,” she murmured sleepily.

His heart warmed and swelled to great proportions inside his chest. “I love you too, Buffy.”

Forever, he added in his mind.

He must have a truly romantic nature, for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about. ~ Oscar Wilde



It was time to go, and she desperately, desperately didn’t want to. It was only for a short time; the wheels already in motion and Spike –with Randy’s help – hot on the case as well, but she desperately, desperately didn’t want to go.



“I don’t want you to go,” Spike murmured into her neck, holding her tight against him. They were in bed the morning of her departure, her back to his front as they lay side by side, her things in the corner reminding her that she had to get up and go soon. It was just that her get up and go, got up and left when it came to leave Spike.



“I don’t want to go either, baby,” Buffy murmured.



“Mmmm, I like that.”



“Like what?”



“When you give me a pet name.”



She smiled and squeezed his hand. “It won’t take long.”



“So you keep saying. Don’t you know? A day is too long for me to go without you.”



“I hate that you make me mushy.”



He chuckled and nuzzled her neck, “What do you mean by ‘mushy’ and how do

you mean you hate it?”



“I mean, when you say things like that you make me go ‘awww’ inside and then

turn to goo. And I hate it because it’s so...girly.”



“Yes, heaven forbid you should be ‘girly’,” Spike said with a roll of his eyes.



Buffy giggled, “Oh shut up. You’re not much better, ya know.”



“Oi. You sayin’ I’m girly?”



“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You get all ‘aww’ too.”



She squealed when he rolled and tackled her into the bed, pinning her hands

above her head and grinding his erection against her folds. She gasped. Round

two was in effect and she couldn’t wait. Adjusting herself, she wrapped her legs

around his waist and smiled cheekily up at him.



“Still girly for you?” Spike whispered huskily and kissed her hard, possessively.



She shook her head and urged him with her hips to enter. Taking the hint, he slid

in easily, his eyes rolling up in his head. “Don’t go baby, please,” he begged and

slid out.



“I have to, but I’ll be back,” she whispered and wrapped her arms around him.



“What am I going to –oh fuck – do without you?”



“You’re going to spend time with Alicia, go to all those meetings I know you have

planned, and then you’re going to call me in the evening so we can catch up

quickly, and then engage in phone sex.”



He growled and thrust inside her hard, making her gasp with pleasure. “Don’t go.”



“I have to.”



“Stay with me.”



“I’ll be back.”



Burying his face in her neck, he sped up his thrusts and just when she was about

to burst, he slowed.



“Spike!” she exclaimed, “I need to cum.”



“Stay and I’ll let you.”



“You play evil,” and using the power in her legs, she rolled them so that she was

on top. He looked stunned; he was clearly not expecting that. Grinning saucily, she

started to ride him at a gallop. “Come for me,” she whispered, and kissed him.



Grabbing her hips, he slammed up, meeting her every downward stroke with an

upward one of his own. Soon, they were racing towards the finish line, an

explosion of color behind their eyes as they screamed their pleasure. Climbing off

him quickly, she sprinted towards the bathroom, “Come on, we have time to do it

one more time in the shower before we have to go!”



********



Spike was contemplating taking her in the car. He was also contemplating paying

off his driver and making them late for Buffy’s flight. She was cuddled into his side

and he couldn’t remember who had reached for whom upon entering the car. All

he knew was that both of them were unwilling to let go. He wanted to hold her tight

and never let her go. He wanted to beg her not to go, wanted to jet a plane to

Vegas and marry her right then.



He’d been moved to tears when they made love in the shower. She hadn’t called

him on it, either. She merely held onto him and whispered words of comfort to

him. She’d looked near tears when they’d packed up her things in the car, but

instead she’d fallen silent and just watched him with sad eyes. Now she held him

close and every so often, kissed him.



She was going to lose it at the airport, he wagered. And that, that in itself, was

going to make him lose it too. The whole experience was a first for him, and it

scared him to think of the depth and the breadth of his love for her. He never

wanted to be without it though, that much he at least knew. She was a drug to him,

and she was flying through his system, filling him up and reaching places no one

or nothing had ever reached before. How was he going to make it without his fix?







********



I’m not going to cry, I’m not going to cry, was the repeated mantra in Buffy’s

head. It was so ridiculous! She was going to be back, and when she was back, it

was going to be for good.



She hoped.



She was only going to be gone at least two weeks tops, that was it. Just enough

time for her to pack up and ship out. The transfer was happening and she just

needed to put the clients she had before she left in good hands, finish some of

them out herself, pack and hand Willow the keys to her apartment and she was

outta there.



Just think how you’re going to miss Willow now, she thought as she and

Spike entered LAX airport.



So much was weighing on her mind. Missing Spike, moving, trusting him and not

trusting him, starting her life in L.A., ending her life in Boston, leaving Spike for two

weeks, worrying…It was no big surprise that she burst into tears when they

reached the cutoff. It was time for her to go now and just before she had to, she

turned into him and threw her arms around him.



“Baby, please don’t do this to me,” he begged on a whisper as he cradled her to

him. “Please don’t…you don’t know what this is doing to me.”



“I’m sorry!”



“Princess, why don’t you just stay huh? You stay and we’ll work it out so –“



“No, Spike, I have to go. I have to do this. I want to be able to say good bye to

Willow and my apartment and –and the east coast. It’ll only be two weeks, I just

suddenly feel so overwhelmed with everything.”



“Can I go with you then?” he said, half- joking.



She shook her head, “No.” Pulling apart from him, she looked up at him and

pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you and I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll call you

when I land.”



Detaching herself from him, she started on a near sprint to the metal detector she

had to get through.



“Buffy!” Spike shouted.



She turned to see him running to her. Before she could say a word, he enveloped

her in his arms and kissed her hard. A kiss that was full of possession and

passion. It was sex between mouths; it would have been downright embarrassing

had she not gotten swept up in it. They clung to each other and he parted, allowing

them both to breathe.



“I love you, Buffy. I love you, and I’m going to miss you.”



“Just two weeks, Spike, just two weeks and I’ll be back.”



“You keep saying that.”



“I’m trying to make it seem not so bad.”



“We’re pathetic aren’t we?”



“Most definitely. I have to go.”



“I know. I’m just gonna wait here until I can’t see you anymore okay?”



“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Men always want to be a woman's first love. That is their clumsy vanity. We woman have a more subtle instinct about things. What we like is to be a man's last romance. ~Oscar Wilde


It'd been four days. To be exact, 96 hours, 30 minutes and 20 seconds since Buffy had left. It'd been a half an hour since Spike last talked to her on the phone, and it had been a short conversation to boot. Too short for his liking, but she had been on her way out the door to greet some clients and close a sale. This was exactly why she had to move out to be with him. When she got busy, she got busy and there was no way they could maintain a healthy, long distance relationship like that.

The thing that got him the most was how incredibly quiet it was without her around. He didn't like it. And, if he was completely honest with himself, it was always the quiet that got him, which was the main reason why he never had very many quiet moments. He always had someone coming in and out, had somewhere to be, places to go and women to see...and do.

He had a little girl to see, and see her he did. And when that was over, he was alone again; missing the hustle and bustle, missing the excitement . . . missing Buffy.

She was busy and the timing seemed to be always off. It was only four days in and he already felt he was a pest. They hadn’t even been able to coordinate phone sex! One of the only perks of being apart from each other, and they couldn’t even get it together for that.

She felt bad, he could tell by her voice, her apologetic voice. And she kept reassuring him that it wouldn’t be long, it was only 10 days more now. Just ten days. Just 240 hours. Most of that was spent sleeping anyway, and then there was the time he spent with Alicia.

Running a hand through his hair and staring out at the L.A. skyline from his balcony with a cigarette hanging out his mouth, he found himself wondering what he did before Buffy. It seemed so long ago.

Oh yes. He’d been a playboy. He’d lived for the night when he could hunt for the woman that would warm his bed for the night, a week, a month.

He’d become something of a homebody since he and Buffy had gotten together, and he’d become even more of one since she’d left to go back home. He felt almost afraid to go out. As if he’d be tempted if he did.

Christ, he was housebroken!

Throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out, he shook his head. He was itching for something. Staying in another night and watching crap TV while missing Buffy held no allure for him. He needed out. Most of all, he needed to know that he could still go out. That he wasn’t housebroken. That he could still paint the town red.

And still be loyal to Buffy of course.

Picking up the phone, he dialed Xander Harris, a co-worker of his and a drinking buddy. He’d go out and have himself some fun. No sense in staying in and wallowing.

********

“You’re quiet,” Willow observed as she watched her friend pick at her dinner. “How’d that sale go?”

Buffy looked up from her salad. “Oh, it went well. Just got a couple more to go. You’re still helping me pack this weekend right?

“Right. Did you find time to rent a truck?”

Slapping her forehead with the heel of her hand, Buffy exclaimed “Dammit!”

“I’ll take that as a no. Honey, I’ll do it tomorrow okay? You just concentrate on work.”

Buffy looked up at her friend gratefully, “Thank you Wills.”

“No problem. How you holding up, hmmm? You seem out of sorts.”

Buffy sighed heavily. “I am.”

“Missing Spike?”

“Yep, I am. I kept telling myself that it’s only 2 weeks. Only fourteen days. But…it’s a lot harder than I thought. And when I’m in bed alone, thinking of him and wondering what he’s doing….”

“Oh, no.”

“What?”

“Your mind goes to the bad place doesn’t it?”

Buffy nodded sheepishly, “I can’t help it! I wonder if he’s gotten tired of waiting—“

“It’s only been four days!”

“Yeah, but…this is the same man that couldn’t go a night without someone there. He never did alone well.”

“So this is a test for him then,” Willow said resolutely.

“Yeah, and . . . “Buffy trailed off, shaking her head.

“You have no faith that he’ll pass.”

“I know he loves me.”

“He does, Buffy, he really does.”

“I’m just being paranoid. I just have this feeling….”

“Of?”

“You know when you worry about something so much you almost convince yourself the worse is going to happen?”

“Yep, been there, done that.”

“That’s me. I’m so worried he’s going to…”

“Cheat?”

“Yes, that, that I’ve convinced myself it’s going to happen. And this is going to sound sick and twisted, but because I’m so worried and convinced it’s going to happen, I almost want him to just friggen do it and get it over with so that I can deal with it already and be done with it.”

“And by done with it you mean?”

“Done with him.”

“Buffy! That’s awful.”

“I know. This separation gives me time to think, and I think too much.”

“Maybe you should call him when you have those doubts?”

Buffy stared at Willow incredulously, “Are you crazy? I’d be calling constantly and then he’d know something was up and . . . and I don’t want him to know I have these doubts. He gets so upset with him when I do express them.”

“I think this is perfect for you both. It’s a test for you both. How will you handle it?”

“I have ten more days to figure that out.”

********

Settling back in the highly uncomfortable chair at the table Xander had selected, Spike took in the bar/club. Glittering lights, loud techno music, smoky air, bright colors and slightly inebriated, to completely inebriated people milling about and/or dancing.

He enjoyed this at one point?

Taking a sip of his beer he tried to get into the spirit of things.

“Dude, relax!” Xander hollered over the music at him.

“I am! See me sitting back?” Spike hollered back.

“There’s a girl, 12 o’ clock, that’s looking at you.”

Spike squinted up across the room. Sure enough, some brunette was coquettishly checking him out. Smiling, he saluted her with his beer and turned back to a chuckling Xander.

“Well, at least you’re not scowling anymore,” Xander said.

Spike frowned, “I wasn’t scowling. I just. . . has it always been this loud here?”

“Christ, you’re getting old.”

“Oi! Watch it Harris. I’m not too old to kick your ass.”

Xander just shrugged and grinned. “Hey, here she comes.”

“Fuck me, that wasn’t an invitation,” Spike muttered.

“Maybe not consciously, but subconsciously.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“I think you want to see if you still got even though you’re tied down now.”

“I’m not ‘tied down’, Harris.”

“Like hell you’re not. You’ve got a ball and chain now. And you know what?”

Spike narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“She’s in a different city. She’s on the other coast. You can do whatever you like, and she never has to know.”

The coquettish brunette was upon him. She was tall, leggy, and beautiful.

I’m fucked, Spike thought just before she introduced herself.

Morality, like art, means drawing a line someplace. ~Oscar Wilde


“Mind if I sit with you?” The woman who had introduced herself as Rachel asked.

“By all means,” Xander said, gesturing towards the empty seat between he and Spike.

Spike just smiled nervously up at her. “Sure,” he said, not recognizing his own voice as it wobbled.

Keeping her chocolate brown eyes on him, she sat and leaned forward, pointing to his beer. “Need another?”

“No, I’m,” he cleared his throat, “I’m all set.”

Xander kicked him under the table and gave him a look and Spike gave him a look back.

“This is going to sound like the lamest line ever,” Rachel began, “But, come here often?”

Spike smiled wondering how many times he’d used that old worn out line. “Not often. I bounce around.”

Rachel smiled, “Oh really? Well, if it gets too boring, we could always find someplace else.”

“Perhaps,” Spike replied evasively.

“Actually, a few friends of mine were thinking of going back to my place – it’s so huge! – and having a party. Maybe you and your friend would like to join us?”

Spike sighed heavily, hesitating. Xander kicked him again, and Rachel let out an utterance of disgust. Spike looked at her, startled.

She shook her head, “I’m sorry. I’m really not good at this sort of thing. See, I saw you over there, well, you know, and I thought – he’s hot. My friends encouraged me to come over, really, I’m terrible at this sort of thing. I never know what to say...I’m not the aggressive type at all.”

Spike reached out and placed a hand on her arm, “No, no, you’re doing fine. Really. The suggestion to go someplace else bit was right on.”

“Really? It was?”

“It was. The party might have been a little forward, especially since you just met me.”

“But I kinda know you,” she admitted sheepishly. “I sort of lied. You’re William Giles from that TV show.”

Spike smiled, “I am.”

“I figured if I didn’t let on that I knew you were a star or whatever, that would increase my chances,” Rachel explained.

Spike nodded, “That was a good move, too.”

“So, do you want to? I mean, go to the party?”

“Well, see, even though you know me from TV, it doesn’t mean that you really know me. So inviting a strange man to your home is probably not wise.”

Rachel’s face fell, “Oh. But...but don’t you do that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, Spike,” Xander cut in, “Don’t you do that sort of thing? I mean, you have nothing right here, right now to tie you down. You’re a free agent.”

Spike stared at who used to be his partner in crime. The one who he’d considered once upon a time to be a great friend and who was now encouraging him to cheat on Buffy. The fact with Xander was, as popular as he was in his own right; he never had much luck with women. When they’d go out together, he’d ride on the coattails of Spike’s success with them and get lucky that way. He was a consummate bachelor, he was as he once put it ‘living the dream’, and Spike had been living the dream with him. Except, looking back, it hadn’t been much of a dream. It’d been so empty and devoid of emotion. His life had been full of activity, full of people surrounding him that he thought cared about him and wanted him to be happy – like Xander. But, his life had been nothing but empty. With Buffy and his daughter though, his life was full. He felt full of life and joy; he had a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Instead of him counting on people being there to build him up and define him, he had Buffy who counted on him to be there for her, and Alicia right beside her wanting the same. And he didn’t want to let them down. For once, he had people expecting more from him other than sex and partying and ‘living the dream’, and he didn’t want to let them down.

It was true, the silence had always been the hardest for him. He wasn’t used to sitting still and mainly because it gave him time to think about what he was doing and where he was headed – how alone he really was. But he wasn’t alone now. He had Buffy. He had Alicia. He had a family in them and being alone for the time it took for Buffy to return to him wasn’t going to break him. It didn’t mean he was housebroken. It didn’t mean he’d ‘lost it’, whatever ‘it’ was at this point. And really, all that being alone now made him think how much he missed Buffy, not how fucked up his life was because now, he was on the right path. Yeah, he still felt the urge to go out and have a good time, but having a good time didn’t mean he had to pick up women. He could go out with a close friend and have a beer or two, but that didn’t mean he had to resort to his old lifestyle to have fun. It hadn’t been all that fun to begin with! He’d just gotten caught up in it and lost himself...and then found himself when Buffy came and opened his eyes. It had been long overdue. If he hadn’t had that transformation, he would have missed out on the relationship he was building with his little girl. He would have also missed out on the all consuming love and passion he had with Buffy. And that love and passion he had with her was more passionate and heady than any one night stand that he’d ever raved about.

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I’m sorry Xander. I have a girl at home I’ve got to get to,” Spike said standing and throwing a couple bills on the table. “Buy yourselves a drink. Talk. Have fun.”

Xander jumped up. “What is going on with you, man? She’s not here. You have a piece of ass right here—“

Rachel jumped up, “Excuse me?” she demanded of Xander.

Xander looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He opened his mouth and started making like a guppy. “I—I—“

Glaring at him, Rachel hauled off and slapped him across the face, “Pig!” And she stalked off.

“Wait, no!” Xander exclaimed, scampering off after her. “I didn’t mean it!”

Shaking his head, Spike turned tail with a big smile on his face, and started for the exit. He didn’t care what time it was, he was going to go home and call his girl. It was time for that promised phone sex.

He was nearly home free when Faith stepped in his path. “Bloody hell,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes.

She smirked at him. “So, where’s Betty?”

“It’s Buffy” Spike snapped.

She shrugged, “Whatev. You get tired of her already? She can’t be good for your image.”

“Buffy is perfect for my image," Spike said through clenched teeth. His hands were at his side, balled into fists.

“The down home type huh? Never thought you’d go for that. So, where is she?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but she’s home packing in Boston. Coming out to be with me, she is.”

“So, while the cat’s away—“

“You’re off your nutter," he said, basically dismissing her.

“What I just saw—“

“What you just saw was me giving the brush off to some nice girl. And now you see me done with this conversation.”

He walked off, disgusted, and missing Buffy more than ever.

Faith watched him leave, a smile spreading across her ruby red lips. “Oh you just wait.”

Illusion is the first of all pleasures ~ Oscar Wilde



Spike felt as though he were crawling out of his skin by the time he got home. He needed to hear Buffy's voice and have her reassure him again that it was "only ten more days". She sounded like a broken record, but he loved that she was at least consistent about it even if she herself sounded as down trodden about being away from him as he felt.

Checking his watch, he contemplated not calling. It was one in the morning for her and she had work...

Hell, he didn't care after the night he had. Picking up the phone, he dialed and held his breath that she a) wouldn't be mad and b) would be awake.

"Hello?"

"Hi luv, it's me. Did I wake you?"

"No, I was lying here awake."

"Oh? Bad day?"

She sighed, "No, I was missing you. I'm glad you called."

"You were, you were missing me?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course, silly."

"I miss you too, baby."

"Were you having a hard time sleeping? Wait, it's ten there. I think half of me is still on California time."

He chuckled, "Half of you?"

She laughed, "Yeah, you know...still not quite on east coast time."

"Well don't get on east coast time. You're going to be here before you know and then you'll just have to get acclimated back to California time."

"I still have to function while I'm here!"

"I should have gone with you," he said quietly.

"That bad?"

"Well, I really do miss you. It's not the same without you around. I've kept busy, but it's just not the same," he said, his mind thinking back to earlier events.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"Go ahead, say it. I know you want to."

She giggled, "It's only--"

"Ten more days," they said together in unison.

After laughing together, Buffy launched into how Riley the Terrible had given her a hard time about leaving. "I really think," she said, "that he is just going to miss showing me up. He went on and on about how I was one of the best. I think he just likes to stick it to me when he comes out on top. I think when I come out on top over there, I'll send him monthly letter cataloguing my success."

"You're evil."

"Damn right. Willow thinks he might have a crush on me."

"Stay away from him," Spike growled.

She giggled, "I don't think it's true."

"Just the same."

"What have you been up to since the last time I talked with you?"

Should he tell her what had happened that night or no? Was it worth it to tell her what had prompted him to go out? That would just give her fodder to worry about trusting him while she was gone, and really, what was the point in that? Even if he had worked it out on his own and the outcome had been favorable. So, he’d been restless. So he felt housebroken. He’d realized he wasn’t. Why make her feel bad by making her think she was the reason why he’d felt like a caged animal. It wasn’t her fault she had to go back to Boston, and it was something she had to do. And really, he was finding that perhaps it was something he needed her to do as well. It was a test of some sort, and now he felt even more confident in his relationship with her, and with the path he was currently on. So why upset her because he’d felt a little bit restless? It’d all stemmed from missing her, but still.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Nothing at all?” she asked yawning.

“Pet, I want you to do something for me before I lose you to Mr. Sandman here.”

“What’s that?”

“Are you wearing your little shorts and tank?”

“I am,” he could practically hear the smile in her voice.

He grinned devilishly. “Make you a deal?”

“What’s that?”

“You take off your clothes, and I’ll take off mine.”
She giggled, “You really want to do this?”

“Hey, you got my imagination runnin’ wild when you suggested it. You bet your cute arse I want to do this,” he told her, chuckling. “Hold on, I’m taking em’ off.” Setting the phone down, he whipped off his shirt and jeans and laid back on his bed, phone firmly pressed to his ear with one hand, while the other rested on his belly. “Pet?”

“Hmmm?”

“You naked yet?”

“Yes.”

He grinned, “That’s my girl. You know what I want you to do now?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

He laughed. “I want you to touch those luscious tits for me luv. I want those nipples hard. Roll them between your fingers. Use both hands if you can.”

“Spike...” she said breathlessly, and it sounded as if she were halfway between wanting to do it, and feeling uncertain about it.

“Come on baby, pretend its me when I play with them...suck on them...get them hard...” He was turning himself on, as a matter of fact. He was imagining her doing it to herself and he was hardening fast.

Silence.

“Pet?”

“I’m doing it,” she whispered.

“Tell me what you’re doing, luv. Part of this is you telling me every. Delicious. Detail.” His voice lowered to husky timbre, the same kind he knew she liked. She told him his voice alone could bring her off, and he was banking on that right now. He wanted to hear her scream the bloody rafters off.

She let out a shuddering sigh, “I’m...licking my fingers...and now I’m...ahh...twisting my nipples with my wet fingers.”

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, “Pretend it’s me baby. Close your eyes and pretend it’s me.” Meanwhile, his hand was now stroking his fully erect shaft. There was no way he could hold off from touching himself while she relayed to him what she was doing.

He heard her moan softly and say his name. He closed his eyes, pretending it was her stroking him. “What do you want me to do baby?” he asked huskily.

“I want you to touch your nipples too. I know you like it when I lick them and suck on them.”

Oh boy did he. And just imagining her...he reluctantly lifted his hand from his cock and slid his hand up to his nipples, pinching them and rubbing them. “They’re hard for you, pet.”

“Now I want you to spit in your hand and stroke yourself. Imagine it’s my mouth on your cock,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with passion.

His shy girl was getting into it, and if possible, he got even harder from it.

“Oh yeah?” he drawled, “I want you to slide your hand down to your sweet pussy, baby. I want you to take your middle finger, and run it up your slit...tell me what you feel.”

“Mmmm....wet. So wet, Spike.”

“Rub your clit, baby. Rub it and then stick your finger in your wet pussy.”

“Spike...” she moaned.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m rubbing my clit, up and down....all around...”

“Fuck, I wish I was there. Pretend it’s me, baby, pretend it’s me doing that,” he said breathlessly, stroking himself in long, firm strokes.

“You are... oh god...and now I’m sticking my finger in my pussy.”

His breath hitched at her use of that word and he slowed his stroking. He was close, and he wanted to cum with her.

“Fuck yourself, Buffy. If you can, put two fingers inside you and pretend it’s my cock fucking you.”

She moaned, “Oh yes....two fingers inside my wet pussy...oh God, Spike, that feels so good.”

“Yeah...that’s my girl. Fuck yourself...”

“Stroke yourself.”

“Oh, I am...Can you rub your clit, baby? Rub your clit and fuck yourself.”

“Oh...Spike...I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“I want you to lose it, Buffy...”

“I want you to cum with me.”

“I will, I will...you fucking yourself hmm? Imaging my big cock fucking your wet pussy?”

”Yes...” she moaned. “Spike...I’m gonna....I’m....Augh!”

Hearing her release of pleasure, sent Spike over the edge and jerking fast, he came, spewing his cum onto his stomach in thick spurts. “Fuck!” he shouted. “Buffy!”

“Oh, Spike,” she said, sounding listless and tired now.

Panting from his huge orgasm, Spike felt himself go boneless and soft. “Buffy, I love you.”

“I love you too, Spike.”

“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” he teased.

She giggled, “Oh, yes.” She sighed, “I wish you were here.”

“I wish I were too. Or that you were here with me.”

“Soon.”

“I know,” she said and yawned.

“I better let you get some sleep, luv.”

“Is this a preview for later? We have sex and then we both roll over to sleep?”

He chuckled, “We’ll roll over, but I’ll be holding you in my arms when we do.”

“Sounds like a plan. Night.”

“Night, luv.”

Hanging up, Spike stared up at the ceiling, a goofy smile on his face, thinking of his Buffy.

********

The phone ringing in Spike’s ear jarred him out of a deep sleep. Reaching blindly for the phone, he picked it up and answered with a groggy “Hello?” His eyes still closed.

“Finally! Have you seen US Weekly, Star and oh, various other rags this morning perchance?” It was none other than publicist extraordinaire, Randy.

“No, why the bloody hell do I care about that?”

“Oh, maybe because there are pictures of you and an unidentified female – or rather, females, plural – all over them?”