A/N: Okay, I am not abandoning The Trouble with Keeping Promises. I am still actively writing it and will be updating it soon, but I had this plot bunny gnawing at my toes and quite frankly, it was starting to try and insert itself in the fic I’ve already got going. Obviously, the two have nothing to do with one another, so it started comin’ out really…funky.

Hopefully, this will allow me to keep the two apart- one in each corner like they bad children that they are. Tell me what you think about this one. Reviews make me have happy squishy feelings. ~Jae



Great, just great.

Buffy Summers listened to the beginnings of an argument from down the hallway and tried to prepare herself for World War III.

She had been Drusilla Rayne’s personal assistant for three years now and in that time she had bore witness to the many explosive fights that had gone on between Dru and her husband.

“Bloody hell, Dru! What else do you want from me?” William ‘Spike’ Giles shouted loudly.

This was usually what the arguments were about. Drusilla was…fickle, at best and would demand one thing but expect another. Her husband just happened to be caught right smack in the middle of her unpredictable moods.

“You fly with big silver birds and I can never find you,” she heard Dru reply.

Oh, so this was about his touring. Buffy had become adept at deciphering Dru’s sometimes insane babbling; finding that she usually explained a thing rather than named it.

“I ‘ave to go, princess. I ‘ave responsibilities t’ my fans, you know that.” His voice had softened some which was common in their arguments. Spike tried hard to placate Dru when she was having one of her spells since there was really no reasoning with her in that state.

Buffy sat up in her bed, cursing her decision to sleep at the Rayne-Giles residence rather than make the two hour journey home to Sunnydale. Now she wouldn’t get any sleep and she’d been running on only a few hours since Thursday as it was. Their fighting lasted hours and being that it was already two in the morning; it could be dawn before they wore themselves out.

“Your fans are more important than Princess. I can see it. Breathing life into your dead body. You are their slave, my beautiful William.”

“That’s not true, baby. I’m your slave. Always yours.”

Hearing the desperation in his voice made her heart ache for him. He was her slave. Completely ruled by her in everyway and what did he receive for his devotion? Besides the constant fighting, it was pretty well known that Dru had men on the side.

Buffy had often wondered whether he knew that or not, but after one particular fight, she had gotten her answer. He flat out asked her why she sought out other men, the despair coating every syllable. She’d replied in some sort of silly riddle which only served to bring him down another notch.

He continued to stay with her though. And while Buffy thought he was just plain stupid for it, she also admired his loyalty to Dru. If only all men were that faithful.

“I’m leaving you, Spike.”

“What?”

What?

Wait a minute, what had she missed? First, they had been arguing and now the big ‘L’ word?

“I’ve found someone who’ll take care of Princess,” she replied in a flat tone.

“Why? Who?”

Yeah, why and who, indeed. Buffy was fully immersed in Dru’s life and she hadn’t seen this one coming. Last she had heard, from the horse’s mouth, was that Dru was swearing off all other men to work it out with Spike.

And now she was leaving to be with someone else. Hello, left field.

Dru started humming some silly song then said, “He’s beautiful. He speaks in angels’ tones, sings to me, says he’ll take me to where the angels live.”

Huh?

“Who is it, Dru?”

This didn’t sound good, not good at all. Was Drusilla really going to leave or was she just playing one of her twisted mind games?

“I’ve already packed. Goodbye, my sweet boy. I’ll miss you ever so.”

Well, that answered her question.

“No, Dru. You can’t leave me. I love you, baby,” Spike cried.

“I have to go. He is waiting.”

“Don’t you love me anymore? Why are you doin’ this to us?”

Dru cackled, a sound that sent shivers down Buffy’s spine. “Oh, dear William. I’ve never loved you.”

If a heart breaking could make a sound it would have sounded exactly like the agonized sobs coming from the living room. Spike’s sobs.

“Dru!” He called out raggedly.

Buffy jumped up from her bed in the guest room and ran to the window. She could see Dru running out to a black Viper that was idling in the circular drive of the house. The driver’s side door opened and a tall, bulky man got out to greet her.

She recognized him. Liam Angelus had been Dru’s costar in her latest horror flick, Voodoo Games. Buffy remembered him well since the entire time she had been on the set he’d made passes at her then pretended that she didn’t exist. The guy was Grade A scum and not for the first time since she had started working for Dru, Buffy seriously questioned the woman’s sanity.

Turning away when they started making out, Buffy’s thoughts turned to Spike. Poor guy. She didn’t know him very well since she usually accompanied Dru to whatever job she had been working and Spike was constantly on tour and in the studio with his band, Dingoes Ate My Baby, but she felt sorry for him.

Nice guys apparently did finish last in this scenario.

After the couple outside finished slobbering on each other, Liam took Dru’s bags and threw them in the trunk before they both jumped into the obnoxious looking sports car and sped off.

It occurred to her then that her job might be up in the air. It was possible that Dru might throw the baby out with the bath water, so to speak, and she would be sent packing to ride the unemployment train. That was so not of the good.

She wanted to dismiss the idea. Of course Dru wouldn’t fire her. Buffy had given up all of her time to attend to her demanding boss, foregoing any sort of personal life to make sure Queen Dru had everything her cold little heart had desired. She was a valued employee. Indispensable. Irreplaceable.

That was bullshit though. Dru would drop her like a hot potato as soon as she realized she still had loose strings still blowing in the wind.

Goodbye job full of perks, hello Doublemeat Palace.

A/N: Okay, this one’s a little rough.




It had been a month since Dru and Spike’s horrible break-up. Dru had surprised Buffy by keeping her on a whole two weeks after that night, but had ended up letting her go after all.

Just as well, though, since Buffy didn’t think she could have handled staying with Dru after what she had done. To each his own and all, but she had taken entirely too much glee in watching Spike suffer and it made Buffy sick.

In those two weeks, Dru had done a number of despicable things that Buffy had unfortunately been witness to. When the court clerk had gone to the house to serve Spike the divorce papers, Dru insisted that Buffy drive her over so they could watch ‘the show’. Even then, Buffy could tell he was a broken man.

And that was before Dru had started calling him.

A shudder went through her at that. It was all a fucking game to that woman and Buffy wondered why she hadn’t noticed her true nature much sooner. The signs had all been there, but she had just turned a blind eye to it all.

Buffy pulled her green Camry into the gas station and situated herself next to one of the pumps.

Today, she was going to retrieve the things she had left at the Rayne-Giles residence and to return her keys. She had tried to give them to Dru when she’d been fired, but had been told that since it was no longer Dru’s house, she really didn’t give a damn what Buffy did with the keys.

Bitch, Buffy thought as she got out of the car and went into the convenience store.

Making her way to the beverage coolers, she grabbed a bottle of water and walked to the counter to make her purchases.

“I need twenty on pump three, too,” she told the clerk.

Glancing down at the magazine racks she was assaulted with the image of Dru and Spike splashed all over the tabloids and some of the more reputable entertainment magazines. Headlines ranged from ‘Split!’ to ‘The Secret Life of Spike Giles: How His Secret Boyfriend Ruined His Marriage’.

Okay, that one was ridiculous. She didn’t think she’d met any man as heterosexual as Spike Giles not to mention the fact that he had been completely faithful to Drusilla through their entire marriage.

She handed the clerk some money and left to pump her gas.

With the exception of the day his divorce papers had been served, she hadn’t seen Spike. Even the night the split had happened, he’d already left by the time she had gone to look for him. From all of the news, nobody else had seen him either.

The thoughts that entered her mind had her heart racing a little. If no one had seen him, it was quite possible that something terrible had happened to him or worse, that he’d done something to himself.

She supposed she would find out as soon as she got to LA whether or not he was still among the land of the living.

Putting her car in gear, she sped off towards the highway and flipped the stereo on.

“-and that was the new Dingoes Ate My Baby single, ‘Burn’. A little news on the Dingoes, they have apparently cancelled ten dates from their Devil Sees Red Tour due to Spike Giles’ personal issues. As you all-” CLICK!

It seemed that all anyone could talk about these days was Spike, Dru, and the train wreck that had become their lives. Of course, that wasn’t exactly true of Drusilla. She seemed to be having the time of her life because of this whole thing.

She had been on every talk show flaunting her new boy toy and spouting lies about why she divorced Spike. Everything from brutal beatings and his adulterous behavior to his secret ‘gay lifestyle’. It was disgusting to watch her trying to destroy him piece by piece.

Guns N’ Roses’ Patience came on the radio and she sighed deeply. Nobody seemed to care that the whole circus was spinning entirely out of control. The media ate up every single lie and truth, twisting them together into some ugly piece of Modern art that was washed in red.

In her time with Dru, she had come to realize quite a few truths about the media and the entertainment business. It was completely true that the lot of them believed that any publicity was good publicity. It was also completely true that pain sells. People eat up others’ misery in a sad attempt to make their own lives less empty.

And where there’s misery, there’s money and there was nothing in the world the media or entertainment business loved more than cold hard cash.

Noting that the highway sign ahead of her said 104 miles to Los Angeles, she shifted into high gear and sped along down the road.


******


Pulling up to the gate, Buffy quickly punched in the code to open the tall, black wrought iron gate. As the gate squeaked open she eased her car up the drive.

She stopped at the top of the driveway and got out. Everything looked okay, the gardeners were still keeping the outside appearance up and the house hadn’t been torched. So far so good, she figured.

For a minute she wondered if she should ring the bell. She had the key, but it wasn’t Drusilla’s house anymore and she felt like she might be intruding on Spike’s personal space.

After several rings of the doorbell, nobody answered. It was possible Spike wasn’t even home and she didn’t think he would mind if she just popped in for a minute to gather what belongs she had left.

She entered the house and was immediately hit with the pungent smell of cigarettes and liquor. That was not a good sign.

“Mr. Giles?” She called out, poking her head into the living room.

As she made her way up the stairs to the office, she continued to call out his name until she was sure that he was, in fact, not in the house.

The office had been her primary workspace and she did most of her administrative stuff there. Dru was nothing if not a perfectionist and sometimes Buffy would spend all day at her desk calling around for specific flowers to decorate her bedroom among other things. It was a stupid way for her to spend her paid hours, but hey, if the boss lady wanted her to sit on her butt and call around for black orchids all day, who was she to complain?

She found a box and started packing her things. A mouse pad with little pink pigs on it, her Far Side desk calendar, a picture of Dawnie…

Dawnie. How was she going to pay for her little sister’s college tuition now? She had been giving it a lot of thought since she’d be unceremoniously kicked to the curb and hadn’t come up with any solutions. Unless she found another person to be a personal assistant to, she didn’t think there would be a job out there that would pay enough to cover Dawn’s expenses.

Bad thoughts for another day, she supposed. It was depressing enough to be in this house, she didn’t need to add to her misery by worrying about something that she couldn’t fix right that second.

Picking up the box, she left the office and made her way down the hall. As she was walking down the stairs though, she heard a noise coming from the direction of the master bedroom.

“Mr. Giles?”

She wandered towards the bedroom and cracked open the door. “Mr. Giles?”

From her position, she could see one alabaster arm poking out from beside the huge canopy bed that sat in the middle of the room. She pushed her way through the door and rushed over to it, dropping her box when she saw him.

“Mr. Giles! Oh, god, Spike!”

He was lying face down on the white carpet; his platinum blond hair stained an ugly grey as it stuck out in clumps on his head. His skin was a sickly pale yellowish tone. Half naked, a filthy white tank top being the only thing covering him, and hidden partially under the bed, his body was sprawled out on the floor. A mostly empty bottle of Jack Daniels lie a foot or so away.

“Spike?” She dropped to her knees and began the morbid task of checking his pulse.

Taking further account of his predicament she realized that he was laying in a pool of vomit and blood which she could only assume was his own. She picked up one limp wrist and she was greeted with a strong pulse. A sigh of relief went through her and she started trying to wake him.

A hand on his shoulder, she began to shake him. “Spike? C’mon, wake up.”

He moaned and Buffy doubled her efforts to bring him to consciousness. Grabbing his far arm, she pulled to roll him over. His dim blue eyes were cracked open slightly, but he didn’t seem to see her.

She slapped his cheek lightly. “Spike, wake up!”

“Huh?” He managed to get out.

Figuring he was coherent enough, she made the attempt to push him upright. “Up you go, Spikey.”

As out of it as Spike was, he was making a effort to comply with her wishes by straining upward until they had both managed to get him sitting up.

“We need to get you to the bathroom so I can wash you up. You’re bleeding from somewhere, but I can’t tell from this mess,” she told him, praying he would be cooperative.

“Blood. Life.” He moaned out as she placed her hands under his arms and tugged up.

Lifting with her knees, she got him halfway up then he pushed up with his legs and that got him the rest of the way. She put his arm around her shoulders and held onto his waist tightly.

“We’re going to the bathroom, okay?”

They shuffled along at a snail’s pace to the master bathroom that thankfully was only a few feet away. Once inside she placed him in the bathtub, stripping him of the tank top, and started filling it with warm water.

Standing back, she looked him over. “Well, finally, I get to say I’ve seen the famous Spike Giles in the buff. I’ll be the envy of all the girls back home.”

His grim expression didn’t change. Apparently, he wasn’t in a very humorous mood.

She went to the linen cupboard and pulled out fresh towels and washcloths. Kneeling next to the tub, she soaked a washcloth in the now-dirty water and began the arduous task of cleaning him up.

After a few minutes she managed to located where he was bleeding from, a medium sized cut on the palm of his hand. It looked like he had broken something glass in it, small shards catching the light of the overhead fixture. That would definitely need more attention than her modest first aid training would be able to provide.

His bleach blond hair had started growing out, dark brown roots sprouting out from his scalp. How long had he been holed up in this house trying to drink himself to death? He hadn’t looked that bad when she’d seen him last and that was three weeks prior so sometime between then and now he had taken a total nosedive into self-destruction.

When she had brought the cloth up to wipe vomit off of his sharply angled cheekbone, he started becoming more coherent. His eyes fluttered open and his breathing deepened.

Blinking at her, he said, “Betty?”

She chuckled a little. “Close enough.”



Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews. I’m glad this fic has sparked some interest. ~Jae ; -D

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It makes me all warm and fuzzy to see that you guys enjoy my writing.

Now…on with the angst!



“Close enough.”

Spike watched helplessly as she continued to wash him. He couldn’t move his bloody limbs, but he wanted to push her away so bad he could taste it. Or was that the salty bile that rose in your throat before you puked?

He lurched forward and vomited, the orangey liquid covering his stomach and apparently, Betty’s arm.

“Oh, that was pleasant,” she said, dipping her arm into the water to wash off the offensive stuff.

Coughing, he managed to mutter an apology. Although why he was apologizing to a woman who was currently employed by his bitch ex-wife, he couldn’t say. She was probably here to spy on him. They must have run out of lies to tell so now they were trying to dig up other things to make him look like a bastard.

“Get the bleedin’ hell away from me!” He lifted a slippery arm and attempted to push her away from him.

“Okay, buddy, I’m trying to help you if that somehow escaped your attention. Now sit still so I can get this washed off of you,” she told him, batting his hand away.

What kind of game was she playing? Hadn’t he suffered enough?

Squirming, he tried to escape her touch. Instead of effectively eluding her though, his back slipped down the porcelain side and went under the water.

He was drowning. His body wouldn’t move and try as he might to get to the surface; he continued to float along the bottom of the tub. It’s what you asked for. You want to die, so jus’ quit fightin’ it.



******


Buffy tried to grab his slick body, but he was thrashing so much he kept slipping from her grasp.

Reaching over, she quickly pulled the plug to the drain and watched as the water swirled down. There hadn’t been that much water in the tub, Buffy had known better than that, so it drained in a matter of seconds leaving a shivering Spike curled up in a fetal position.

“I’m starting to think maybe you’d like me to just let you kill yourself.”

Spike didn’t reply. He just continued to cough and sob, his body shaking uncontrollably on the bottom of the bathtub. His skin had ceased being yellow, but was now taking on a bluish tone.

Buffy shook her head as she reached over and turned the taps on again then grabbed the removable showerhead, testing the water on her wrist. Beginning at his feet, she worked the warm water over his skin until she reached the top of his head. The water was helping to bring some color back to his skin, but she knew that she had to get him out of the tub and into some warm clothes.

Turning the water off, she stepped into the tub and moved to lift him up. He started to fight her again and she grabbed his chin, making him look at her.

“Look, I’m not giving you what you want, so cut it out. You are going to help me get you out of this tub, Spike. Then I am getting you dressed and we’re going to the hospital. Capiche?”

He was pissed. But that was good. Anger was good. Anger meant he wasn’t ready to lie down and die yet, not when so much of his attention was being focused towards hating her.

Blue eyes stared up at her defiantly, but he didn’t argue with her.

They got out of the tub, Buffy helping him step over the high edge. She grabbed the towels and started drying him off then wrapped two of them around his shivering frame. Taking one of the unused washcloths, she tied it around his still-bleeding hand.

After leaving the bathroom Spike was helped onto the bed. She went searching for some clothes, knowing his wardrobe was on the opposite side of where Dru’s used to be. Pulling out some black sweats and matching sweatshirt, she went back to Spike to help him put the clothes on.

She stopped mid-tug and glanced up at him. “Underwear?”

He gave her an are-you-kidding look and motioned for her to continue dressing him by shimmying his hips.

This had to be the strangest experience she’d ever had. It would certainly make for excellent tabloid fodder if they ever got a hold of the story. Weird and wacky celebrity adventures were all the rage now, not that they’d ever gone out of style in the first place.

Getting him down the stairs had been tricky, but they managed to descend without falling or twisting any ankles. She got him outside and into her car. Throwing the car into gear, she tore down the driveway and out the gate.

The ride to the hospital was made in silence. Spike had huddled himself on the front seat with his head resting against the window.

He was in a sorry state. Buffy knew that he would take his split from Drusilla hard, but she never thought he would have gone as far as he did.

She couldn’t help but think that Dru wasn’t worth his pain and wanted very much to tell him such, but she didn’t think he would appreciate it very much. As it was Buffy and he weren’t exactly on the most solid ground themselves at the moment. She was probably the last person he wanted to get advice from.

Pulling into the emergency entrance, she parked the car. “Spike, I’m going to run in and explain the situation to them. You just sit tight.”

If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge it.

Sighing, she took the keys and hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid while she was inside. She rushed through the automatic doors and to the admittance desk.

“Um, I have a, uh, friend that needs to be admitted,” she told the nurse.

The nurse gave Buffy a puzzled look. “Well, where is your friend? He’ll need to be present to admit him.”

Resting her forearms on the desk, Buffy leaned forward as closely to the nurse as she could. “See here’s the thing. He’s Spike Giles,” she whispered, her eyes darting from side to side to make sure no one had heard her.

“Oh!” The nurse’s eyes got wide.

“And I’m not asking for any special treatment, its just he has been kinda in the news lately and he’s really not in the best state to be dealing with anymore excitement, if you know what I mean.” Buffy watched as the nurse nodded her head in agreement.

The nurse stood up and bent over to her. “Look, go and get him and by the time you get him in here, I’ll have worked something out.”

“You are a saint-” Buffy glanced at her name badge. “-Miranda.”

Miranda beamed at her before shooing her away from the desk.

Buffy walked back out to the car to find that Spike hadn’t moved an inch since she’d left him. She opened his door and helped him get to his feet. They moved slowly towards the ER entrance and once inside, Buffy directed them towards the admittance desk again.

Miranda must have been waiting for them because as soon as they came within five feet of the desk, she was there helping Buffy get him into one of the examining rooms.

“The doctor shouldn’t be long. I told her that it was kind of urgent that Mr. Giles be seen,” Miranda told her after they had gotten Spike situated on the padded examining table. “In the meantime, I’ve got some paperwork that needs to be filled out.”

Buffy took the clipboard from Miranda’s hand and gave it a once over. “I think we can manage that. Thanks, Miranda. I owe you one.”

Miranda left the room and Buffy sat down in the chair next to the examining table. “Okay, Spike, I’m gonna need your help on some of this.”

He glared at her. “I thought you were supposed t’ know all o’ that stuff already.”

“Oh, god! He speaks!” She feigned shock, but couldn’t contain her smile. “Point of fact, blondie, I know all of ‘that stuff’ about Dru, not you. Now are you going to help me or not?”

When he didn’t answer her, she decided to ask him anyway. Stubborn ass. “Let’s see here. Full name, birthdate, address, uh? Oh, here’s one I don’t know. Any allergies to medication?”

“No.”

“Emergency contact?”

“Xander Harris. 230-555-7245.”

“Are you currently taking any medications?”

He sneered at her. “Jus’ alcohol t’ numb the pain.”

“Okay, that is so not funny. Would you like a black eye to go with your alcohol poisoning?” She told him, turning her attention back to the forms.

“Why do you even care? You and bloody Dru probably planned this whole thing any’ow.”

Slapping the pen down on the clipboard, she turned to him. “What are you talking about?”



******


Spike pushed himself to sit up. “Oh, you’ve got t’ be fuckin’ kidding me! You know exactly what ‘m talkin’ ‘bout! You and Dru plannin’ my demise then my bloody humiliation or was it the other way ‘round?”

Her mouth was gaping open as she stared at him incredulously. “Me and Dru? I didn’t plan anything with her. I didn’t have anything to do with any of this.”

“Oh, right! ‘cause you two weren’t inseparable for the whole of three years,” he told her, slapping his hand against his thigh.

“Uh, hello. She paid me to be and her beck and call. What else was I supposed to do?”

He nodded. Well, that explained everything. “So you’re doin’ it for the money, then.”

Throwing her hands up into the air, she replied wildly, “Doing what for money?”

“Tryin’ t’ bloody do me in. The both o’ you!”

“Um, okay. Yeah, I’m trying so hard to kill you that I saved your ass from drowning in your own puke. How evil of me!”

She has a point there.

Oh, shut up! Nobody asked you!

“So you admit it then,” he accused lamely.

A bark of laughter left her. “God, you are as crazy as she is! Why did I even bother? I don’t need this crap from you, Spike; I already got enough from her.”

She turned on her heel and made for the door.

Suddenly, the door opened and a petite brunette woman walked in. “Is everything okay in here?”

“Uh, fine. Just fine,” Buffy lied. “Are you the doctor?”

“Yeah, hi. I’m Doctor Winifred Burkle and you are?”

“Betty,” Spike spat out.

Betty rolled her eyes at him then turned her attention back to the doctor. “Actually, my name is Buffy. Buffy Summers.”

Huh? Buffy, eh? Well, it was an easy mistake to make what with them both sounding so similar and all. Buffy. Betty. Who knew?

Spike watched as the doctor shook her hand, and then moved over to the examination table.

“So, Mr. Giles, what seems to be the problem?”

“Besides his recent alcohol binge and the whole trying to kill himself thing?” Buffy retorted, staring daggers at him.

“Is this true, Mr. Giles?” Dr. Burkle asked him with obvious concern.

Oh, buggar. “I, uh, well, that is, um-” Instead of trying to continue, he just held up his hand with the blood soaked washcloth tied around it.

Dr. Burkle grabbed his hand and unwrapped the cloth. After studying it, she said, “well, you have done a number on this, haven’t you? Did you break something in it?”

He didn’t honestly remember. The days had gone by in a blur of alcohol induced haze. He could have flown around the world and won the Miss America pageant for all he knew.

“Well, I’ll have to clean it up,” the doctor said as she made her way to the medical cabinet over the sink. “Oh, darn it! I’m out of Hydrogen Peroxide. I’ll have to go and get some. Hang tight, I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, doc. Don’t worry, you can always siphon the peroxide from his hair. I’m sure he’s got more than enough to spare,” Buffy said, a sweet smile on her lips that was anything but sincere.

Dr. Burkle gave her an odd look before smiling back. “Um, okay.”

Once the doctor had left the room, Buffy flopped down into the chair and scowled at him.

“I don’t know what you’re glaring at, you’re not the one about t’ be poked and prodded,” he told her.

She folded her golden arms over her breasts. “Well, whose fault is that? No one pointed a gun to your head and made you drink half a liquor store.”

“Why do you bloody care anyway? Dru is your responsibility, not me. I don’ even know you.” He placed his hands on either side of him, bracing himself on the table.

Buffy was quiet for a minute before she stood up and walked to the door. As she got ready to walk out, she turned to him. “I care because what Dru did to you was wrong and you deserve better than to waste yourself on somebody like her. And you may not know me, but I know you well enough to say that you’re a good man even though you just treated me like shit for the last two hours. I wish you the best, Mr. Giles.”

And with that she was gone.

A/N: Many apologies for not updating yesterday. R/L kinda got in the way, but a momentary setback only so I’ll be updating again soon.

Mel: As much as I’d love to give you guys a finished product, I’m afraid that unlike some of the other Spuffy writers, I don’t have chapters in reserve. When I post a chapter it is fresh off the presses. I’ll try hard to keep both fics going and updated as frequently as possible, but you know, shit happens. ; - )





Spike glanced up as the door to the examination room opened up and Xander Harris walked in.

“Jesus, Spike. What did you do to yourself?” Xander asked, noticing the bandaged hand lying limply on Spike’s lap.

Shrugging, he replied, “Don’t rightly know, mate. Seems I was pretty outta it for the last couple o’ days.”

“Days? Spike, I haven’t heard from you in two weeks.” Xander moved to sit on the edge of the examination table.

Was it possible that he’d been drunk for a whole two weeks? He’d been in the state to get himself completely smashed since Dru had dropped the big bomb on him. But he hadn’t thought he’d let himself go as far as to drink so much that he would lose all concept of time.

“You really scared the shit out of us, you know! I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks now. You haven’t answered your phone or your door since Dru-”

He raised his injured hand to stop the direction of the conversation. “Don’ really wanna talk ‘bout Dru, if it’s all the same t’ you.”

“Look, all I know is, you’ve been MIA since-” Xander made quotation marks in the air to take place of Dru’s name. “-came by and all of the sudden I get this phone call from Buffy who-”

“Wait. Buffy called you?”

This girl was turning into a bloody enigma.

“Uh, yeah? Does that matter?” Xander asked, his brows scrunched together.

“Well, don’ you find it a bit odd that Dru’s personal assistant is calling to tell you that I’m in the hospital?”

Raising his eyebrows, Xander replied, “I would except that she doesn’t work for Dru anymore. She got fired like two weeks ago.”

Fuck. Now he felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. She had been telling him the truth the entire time and all he could do was think the worst of her.

Closing his eyes, Spike wished to hell he could make it all go away. Things were going to shit, had been for weeks now, and now he had the distinct pleasure of knowing that he’d hurt the girl who had only tried to save his worthless excuse for a life.

“I am such a git!” Spike shouted, his fist slamming into the table.

Xander laughed at that. “Yeah, but what else is new?”

“Shut up.”



******



One Week Later…


Circling an ad for data entry clerk, Buffy sighed over the hourly wage posted. Just above minimum wage, it was nowhere close to what she needed to pay her bills and keep Dawn at UC Berkley for the next three years.

She had seen on some entertainment show that Dru had hired another personal assistant, a young man named Andrew. It begged the question of whether or not Dru trusted her precious Liam with a female assistant. Buffy was sure that it had been one of the reasons Dru had let her go in the first place.

Just a few days before she’d been let go, Buffy was sitting at the desk in her new office in Liam’s house, when the slimeball had walked in and started getting all grabby with her. She had picked up a stapler and smacked him in the head with it and told him to ‘get bent’.

What he’d told Dru about the incident she wasn’t sure. Either way, Dru had seemed hell-bent on getting Buffy out of the house.

All’s well that ends well, she supposed.

As much news as Dru made, Spike, it seemed, had disappeared off of the media’s radar. There had been no mention of his trip to the hospital or recovery, which told her Miranda and the other staff, had used their discretion when treating him. She should send them flowers or something.

Wait a minute, Summers. What the hell did she care if Spike Giles got his name splashed all over the tabloids for his drunken stupidity? It would serve him right for being such an asshole to her.

The phone rang and Buffy moved to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Buffy!” Dawn’s voice on the other end gave her momentary pause to her negative thoughts.

“Dawnie, what’s up?”

At nineteen, Dawn was seven years younger than Buffy. It was a large age gap that her mother had attributed to ‘one wild vacation in Aruba’ towards the end of her marriage to Buffy and Dawn’s father, Hank. They had gotten divorced not long after Dawn was born and didn’t see much of their father after that.

“Well, I know you wanted to do this whole Christmas-Holiday-Cheer thing with me, but I got invited to go skiing with some people from my dormitory and I was hoping…”

“You want to go?” Buffy felt her depression gain momentum. She would be all alone for Christmas if Dawn bailed on her and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

“Yeah, I really do! Besides, I’m sure Drusilla will keep you totally occupied with one her patented Christmas bashes, right?”

Oh, that’s right. She hadn’t told Dawn about the whole firing thing yet. It had been on the tip of her tongue to, but there had never been a good time to break the news. Dawn was going to make it worse to by worrying too. Maybe she’d wait until after the holidays.

“Oh, yeah, you’re right. In fact, she’s got me starting the guest list already,” Buffy lied, making herself feel worse.

“So, do you mind, then?”

Did she mind that her little sister was going off with kids she didn’t even know? Hell, yes. Did she mind that it seemed Dawn wanted to spend more time with them than her own sister? Hell, yes!

“No. No, I don’t mind. Go if you want.” She wanted to cry, but had to keep up the façade, so she choked the tears back.

Dawn shrieked into Buffy’s ear. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the best, Buffy. Oh, hey, I gotta go. Love ya!”

“I love y-” The phone clicked dead on the other end before Buffy could finish her goodbye. Feel the love, people, feel the love.

Placing the phone back in its cradle and she went back to the newspaper that was sitting on the dining room table.

There weren’t too many prospects in a tiny, one-Starbucks town like Sunnydale. “Hey, Starbucks. I wonder if they’re hiring,” she mumbled to herself, looking down the columns of ads none of which sounded very appealing.

Driver. Driver. Driver. Escort? No, thank you. Forklift Driver. Heavy Equipment Operator. Jet Ski Sales Manager…

She had gotten halfway through the ‘M’s’ when she heard the doorbell ring. Probably some door to door salesman or something.

Walking to the door, she unlocked the deadbolt and opened it.

“You’re not a salesman.”

“Dissapointed, luv?”

Spike Giles was the last person she had expected to be standing there when she’d opened the door, but there he was just the same. He looked better than the last time she’d seen him. His face was full of color and he was grinning at her.

“Actually, yes,” she told him, leaning against the doorframe.

His face fell a little. “Oh, well, I won’ keep you then.”

“Just come in, Mr. Giles.” She moved aside to let him enter.

He walked in, a box in his hands, and waited for her to close the door.

“I brought you your box. You had, uh, left it that day,” he told her, holding the box out to her.

Taking the box, she moved to set it down on the coffee table in the living room. “Ah, yes. ’That day’.”

“Look, Buffy-”

“Its okay, you don’t have to say anything. I’m over it, really,” Buffy interrupted, then walked past him and into the kitchen.

She could hear him follow her and she spun around, smacking right into his broad chest. “Ompf!”

He grabbed her shoulders to steady her. “So sorry, luv. I didn’ realize you’d be turnin’ right then.”

The heat from his palms spread out through her shoulders and down her arms. God, how long had it been since she had a man touch her minus Mr. Grabbyhands a few weeks earlier. Even as innocent as it was, she could feel tingles running up and down her nerves.

Whoa, down girl!

She wiggled her way out of his strong grasp and made a few steps backwards. “It’s okay. No harm done, right?”

If he noticed her shaky voice or her deep breaths, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved to lean up against the island.

“Buffy, I think I really owe you an apology for last week. I was wrong t’ accuse you of plottin’ against me an’ I wanted to thank you for what you did for me.” His blue eyes held a sincerity in them that she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Well, thanks for that, but I really didn’t need to hear it. I was over-”

He shook his head. “No, I was a bloody idiot and I hurt you. You didn’ deserve to get treated that way and I am sorry.”

She had been hurt, he was right about that. It was easy for her to hide it behind her snarky remarks, but she truly was upset by the way he had acted towards her. And now here he was apologizing to her.

Smiling, she said, “Thank you.”

With a nod, he started for the door.

“So, how are you doing?” She called out after him, not wanting their interaction to end just yet.

“I’m not dead, so that’s gotta be a step in the right direction, right?”

“Definitely,” she laughed.

Moving to the living room, she offered him a seat on the couch. At first he seemed a bit surprised that she was inviting him to stay, but after a moment he obliged her and sat down.

“So, did Xander find you?” She asked as she plopped down in the armchair across from him.

He smiled. “Oh, yeah. I guess I owe you another thanks, then. They wouldn’t have let me leave if he hadn’ been there.”

“Well, I felt bad even though you were such an ass to me. Couldn’t leave you there without making sure someone knew where you were,” Buffy told him.


******


She was doing it again. Making him feel like a complete wanker, not that he didn’t deserve it.

“It took a while and Xander knockin’ me upside the head a couple o’ times, but I managed t’ get some o’ my facts straightened out. Why didn’ you tell me you weren’t workin’ for her anymore?”

Raising an eyebrow, she grinned then asked, “Would you have believed me if I had? I mean, you were pretty much deep into the conspiracy theory at that point. You probably would have told me it was all a part of our master plan, or something equally lame.”

That was most likely what would have happened, he couldn’t deny it. He had been so convinced that Buffy was plotting against him that there wasn’t much she could’ve done to persuade him to believe otherwise.

“I’m sure you’re right about that. I admit I’d gone a bit sack o’ hammers there for a bit. I’m jus’ sorry you were the one who had t’ put up with me,” he said, watching her amused expression.

“I’m sorry I had to put up with you too.”

“Ha-ha. You’re a bloody riot.”

“I know. I’m the greatest.”

After a few moments of silence, Spike said, “So, how’s the job hunting? I suspect you’ve already been snatched up by some lucky employer.”

At that her smile disappeared. “No, not really. I sent out like twenty resumes, but I haven’t heard back from anyone yet.”

“No?”

She shook her head, and then looked down to the floor. “Hey, Mr. Giles-

“Spike, luv. I believe we’re beyond the formal titles with you having seen my bits and all.”

Blushing, she continued. “Spike, I really hate to ask you, but I don’t suppose you would know anyone who needs someone of my particular experience, would you? I’m getting a little desperate here.”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Her head shot up and she gave him a hopeful expression. “Really? Who?”

“Me.”






A/N: Okay, I know Buffy seemed kinda wimpy in this chapter and it was a little fluffy. It will not remain that way. There’s some more angst and sassy Buffy on the way…oh, and smut, too! ~Jae

A/N: Wow! Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews! You guys are the greatest!


Tell him no.

What are you, an idiot? Say yes!

“You? You need a personal assistant?” Buffy finally asked after several minutes of just staring at him with her mouth gaping open.

Raising a scarred eyebrow, he replied, “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t be askin’ you if I didn’.”

Okay, so logically, Spike could use someone to help him with his personal life. ‘Cause obviously he wasn’t doing so well on his own if he’d let himself drink to the state of unconsciousness.

“Why?”

“Because I don’ have the foggiest idea of how t’ take care of the house. I mean, Dru took care of all that stuff and I never had t’ worry about bills getting paid or maintenance,” Spike told her.

Buffy fought the urge to say what she really wanted to. She could feel it rising in her throat but she swallowed it down. Just keep your mouth shut, Buffy.

“Dru was always good ‘bout keeping everything together and-”

“Wait a minute.” Don’t say it!

“Dru didn’t do jack, I did. I made sure all the bills were paid, that the pool was cleaned, that the precious almond biscuits she loved so much were always stocked in the pantry. Me! Not her.”

Way to go, moron! Now you’ve really screwed yourself, she thought after she’d finished her ranting.

He stared blankly at her with his bright blue eyes. Whatever he was thinking couldn’t be good.

“Oh,” he finally said. “So what else did you do for her?”

Uh, wait a minute. Did she just miss something because instead of going off on her, he was continuing the conversation as if her little temper tantrum hadn’t even happened?

“Well, besides keeping the house in order, I made her travel arrangements. I made sure that whatever set or hotel she was at, they had all of the products she liked. I shopped for her clothes and accessories. I helped her plan her parties and made sure all of the preparations went smoothly. You know, personal assistant stuff,” Buffy said, glancing down at her hands before returning to see his reaction.

His brow was furrowed in confusion. “I thought you traveled with her t’ the set. Why would you have t’ make sure they had all the right stuff if you were right there?”

Buffy laughed. “Actually, in the beginning, the studio provided her with a P.A. to help her on the set, but apparently, they weren’t very good at keeping her happy. So after about a year, she’d had enough of the studio-provided people and demanded that I be allowed to accompany her instead.”

“I see. Well, you could help me with all o’ that stuff too.”

He was looking at her with a hopeful expression. Somehow he must have known she would have her doubts about going to work for him and he was trying his hardest to convince her he was stable enough to be a boss.

Spike Giles was not known for his patience, even-temper, or calm personality. He was notoriously quick to anger and passionate about everything. That usually made for a volatile behavior when he was upset or excited about something. The fact that he was sitting in front of her with a steady expression and a composed tone was proof positive of his determination to have her in his employment.

What she didn’t know, still, was why. To anyone else, it might have seemed that he just needed someone to help him carry on his day to day responsibilities. To Buffy, it was quite apparent that he was holding something back from her.

“What about money?”

Ah, yes, the question du jour. She wouldn’t be able to take less than what Dru had been paying her and she was seriously convinced she should get some sort of hazard pay if she had to work for Spike. The guy was dangerous.

“How about an extra $500 a week on top o’ what Dru was paying you and a $2000 bonus if you come back t’ LA with me tonight,” he said calmly.

Someone was desperate… That was a lot of money and Buffy could feel all of her reasons for telling him no quickly fly right out the window. How could she argue with that? He was making it damn impossible for her to refuse his offer.

He seemed like he had gotten a stable footing since she’d left him at the hospital. A big part of her was still screaming with warning sirens going off in her head. He couldn’t have possibly straightened out himself in a week, but he sure was putting on a good show for her.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

She watched as his face lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “But I have a couple conditions. One, I’m going to need at least a week’s vacation next year. Paid vacation. And two, I want tickets to one of your concerts. My sister’s been bugging me about it ever since I started working for Dru.”

Spike chuckled. “Why didn’ you say so earlier? I woulda given you tickets, Buffy, if you had just asked me.”

“Well, I’m asking now, so take it or leave it.”

“You drive a hard bargain there, Ms. Summers, but I think I can manage to accommodate your terms,” he said in mock seriousness.




******



Spike looked up to see Buffy coming down the walk with yet another suitcase as he was loading two others in the trunk of his black Lexus. How many bags did she have? He supposed he couldn’t complain though. She was practically moving in with him and she had a whole house full of stuff that she was leaving behind.

No, three bags were just fine.

“All set to go, luv?” He asked her as she handed him the last bag.

She glanced over at the house and after a moment, nodded. “Yeah, I think I got everything I need.”

“Good.” He moved over to the passenger side door and opened it for her. “In you go.”

Once they were both in the car, Spike fired up the engine and sped off towards the highway.

“Do you mind if I turned on the radio?” She gave him a questioning look before he gave her the okay.

The familiar notes of one of his songs filled the car and he was tempted to shut it off.

Listen now and let me speak
I will be the dog at your feet
Come along when you call
Be the little bird in your straw and sing you a song
I'll be there to take the fall
Though you tread upon me for no reason at all

Buffy turned to him, a grim expression on her soft features. “Do you want me to change it?”

Yes, he did, but he also knew that eventually he would have to get over that hurdle and now was as good a time as any. At some point, he would need to get back on stage and sing songs that were mostly about his relationship with Dru. It didn’t matter that it hurt to sing about her. His fans still wanted to hear those songs and in the end, they were his bread and butter so it wasn’t really like he had a choice.

Shaking his head, he gave her a smile. “No, leave it if you want.”

“Okay.” Her troubled look lessened a bit but didn’t disappear.

But just when you think you've left me blind
If I'll need to, yeah I will keep you in the corner of my eye
The corner of my eye

He had written this song only six months ago for the Dingoes’ Devil Sees Red LP and at the time, Dru had been in one of her more abusive states. He knew fully well that she had been cheating on him, yet he had not only stayed with her but let her lead him around like a lovesick puppy.

What a bloody fool he was! And now where was he? Miserable and alone for the first time in five years. Well, alone at least. He had been miserable throughout his marriage to Drusilla despite how much he had loved her.

I will never leave your side
Though you call me your number one zero
you nevermind
I'll be your king, I'll be your pawn
I will build a pedestal and put you upon it, baby

Glancing over at Buffy, he saw her eyes were closed and she was nodding her head to the beat of the song. Did she know what the song was about? He figured she did since she seemed pretty concerned with if listening to it bothered him.

She was a beautiful woman, he realized out of the blue. He had never really taken the time to see her before, but now that he had a minute to gaze upon her he could really appreciate her beauty.

Her long blond hair was pulled back into a barrette, wisps that could not be contained fell against the golden skin of her face. With her soft pink mouth slightly parted, he could see her tongue dip out to moisten her lower lip as she continued to rock slightly to the music.

It was odd for him to be taking notice of her. He was around gorgeous women all the time and he’d never given them a second glance. The only woman for him had been Dru. But that was then and this was now.

He really had no interest in getting involved with Buffy or any other women at this point, but he could still look. Maybe even partake in a little sex when he was ready. But not with Buffy and certainly not if there was going to some sort of relationship attached to the deal.

Down on the street, over your night
Out of your sleep, out of your sight
if I need to, yeah if I need to
Out of your mouth, in every word
Down in your ego one thing is sure
I will keep you, I will keep you

The pain of loosing Dru was getting more numb with each passing day. It still hurt like a mother, but it was starting to finally sink in that they were over and now he was trying to deal with all of the other emotions that played out within him. Anger, mostly. He had broken all of her collectible porcelain dolls a few days ago in a fit of rage.

That had made him feel better. Damn her and her fucking dolls!

He looked down at his gas gage and silently cursed. In his rush to get out of Sunnydale, he had forgotten to gas up and now the little red line was bouncing between E and less than E.

“Hey, Buffy, I gotta stop and get some gas,” he said to her.

She popped out of her trance and glanced over at his gage. “Yeah, I guess you do. The next exit should have a gas station.”

Pulling off at the aforementioned exit, he saw a Chevron station and shot across to it. He parked next to one of the pumps and moved to get out of the car when he felt Buffy’s small hand on his arm.

“I can do it.”

“Buffy, I can pump my own gas. You’re my assistant not my slave,” he told her, brushing off her hold on him.

“Well, hey, if you want to be mobbed just so you can feel like a big boy by pumping your own gas, its fine by me.” She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, a knowing smirk on her face.

Frowning, he asked, “What do you mean?”

Her slender hand raised and she pointed a finger out the front windshield. “I think you might have a fan or two in that van in front of us.”

Following the direction of her finger, he saw a minivan full of teenaged girls all with Dingoes’ shirts on, a copy of their latest single blaring from each speaker. “Bloody hell!”

“Mmmhmm! Teen fangirls are notoriously rough with their celebrity crushes. I think you should think twice about going out into that viper pit. Is pumping your own gas really that important or do you just wanna fork over the money so I can do it for you and spare you an ugly death by molestation?”

Ohhh, her sharp tongue was getting dangerously close to turning him on. A little verbal abuse was like foreplay, in his book. If she didn’t watch it, he might start to like her too much for his own good.

“Fine, but only because I don’t really feel like getting’ my clothes ripped t’ shreds.” He grinned at her before digging in his jean’s pocket to get his wallet.

“Do you want anything to drink?” She asked, palming the money and reaching for the door.

“Red Bull, if they have it.”

“Don’t you mean sugar-free Red Bull? You are kinda hyper as it is, I don’t think we need to add any more sugar to your diet. You might start having a seizure or something.”

“Oh, you little minx!” Spike reached over the center console and tickled her side.

“Ahhh!” She screamed at him, batting his hand away. “You are evil!”

Chuckling, he sat back and gave her a patented Spike-smirk complete with tongue-behind-teeth action. “Baby, you have no idea.”

Suddenly, she wasn’t laughing anymore. Her face had completely sobered at his words and she was getting out of the car seconds later.

“Way to go, Spike,” he muttered to himself. He knew he had crossed some sort of boss-employee relationship line and it was pretty clear that it had been unwanted at her end. In the future, he would really have to curb the impulse to flirt with her and watch what he said. He had a tendency to speak before thinking about the consequences his words might bring.

He saw her walk out of the convenience store with a small bag in her hand. She moved to the pump and started putting gas into the car.

The door opened a short time later and she sat down in the seat. “We’re good to go,” she said, handing him his Red Bull, which he noticed was not sugar-free.

“Look, Buffy, I’m sorry about-”

“Its cool, Spike. Don’t worry about it.”

Damn her! She did it again! She was always cutting him off when he tried to apologize to her for being a stupid git. What was with this girl? Couldn’t she handle a simple apology?

If he was man enough to say it, she should be bloody woman enough to hear it.

“Buffy, I-”

“Don’t. I told you I’m over it. Now, if you don’t want me screaming out the window to those girls that I have you naked and tied up in the backseat, I suggest you drop it and get this bad boy in gear,” she told him, staring out the window and taking a sip of her Diet Coke.

He could think of someone else who’d look good naked and tied up in the backseat, but he kept his big mouth shut this time. With an exasperated sigh, he started the car up and pulled out of the gas station.

“You are too good at blackmail, luv. Perhaps you should consider a new career. Maybe in the mob,” he told her as they got back on the freeway.

“Oh, I’ve already worked for them,” she told him nonchalantly. “But I guess I was too good at my job and they had me blackballed.”

His gaze jerked away from the road and over at her smirking face. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“No, you’re gonna kill yourself if you don’t watch the road.”

He looked back to the road to find that he had drifted over about two lanes and was now heading straight into a semi-truck. “Fuck!” He exclaimed as he yanked the wheel over to correct his mistake.

“See. Told ya so.” And she stuck her cute little pink tongue out at him.

Oh, bloody kill me now.





A/N: The song that was included in this chapter was Audioslave’s #1 Zero. I realize James/Spike doesn’t have Chris Cornell’s drool-worthy voice, but I can imagine, right? Not that James/Spike doesn’t have a sexy set of pipes of his very own. ; - ) I wish I could write the songs myself, but hell, I’m just not that talented. ::cough-Nautibitz-cough::

I won’t make a big deal out of the inclusion of songs in this fic, but if something speaks to me, I’ll put it in or at least make mention of it. Hey, Spike, is after all, a mega rockstar in this, a little music is to be expected. ~Luv Jae

A/N: Wow, I’m on a roll here. Hope you guys enjoy. Thanks for all the reviews, I am really feelin’ the love. ; -D ~Jae




It was almost dark by the time they reached Spike’s house.

The rest of the trip had been made mostly in silence after his little Spyhunter move with the semi-truck. There hadn’t been much to say to one another since the only things they really had in common were Dru, his alcohol overdose, and the awkward flirting at the gas station. None of which, Buffy had any interest in bringing up.

Getting out of the car, Buffy moved around to the back of the Lexus to help Spike with her bags. He smiled at her and handed her the lightest one of the bunch.

“I can carry my own bags,” Buffy told him, reaching out for the bag in his left hand.

“I’m sure you can, luv. But don’ bruise this bloke’s ego any more by not allowin’ me t’ help you with a couple o’ suitcases,” he replied, pulling the bags from her grasp and walking up the steps to the front door.

“Oh, gosh! I sure don’t want to damage your precious male ego.”

Glancing back at her, he rolled his eyes. “See that’s why I’m gonna like having you around, pet. To keep my head from getting too big.”

Okay, so not going to comment on that one.

Buffy followed him into the house and immediately dropped her bag on the floor. “What freak storm hit in here?”

The place was trashed. Couches were flipped over, tables smashed, picture frames shattered and laying scattered somewhere between the fireplace and their original place on the wall.

So much for thinking he’d gotten himself together. Buffy knew it had been too good to be believed that he had fought through all of his demons in a week.

He had the decency to look sheepish, at least. “Uh, yeah. I might have, you know, redecorated.”

“Oookay.” She said, walking around to account for all of the damage that she would have get fixed or replaced. “Just so you know, I am not cleaning this mess for you. You’re gonna help or you can count me out.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could hire another housekeeper.”

Buffy spun around to face him. “What happened to Paulina?”

“I think I fired her.”

“What do you mean ‘I think I fired her’?”

“Well, I honestly don’ remember. But I ‘aven’t seen her in weeks.”

Geez, this was going to be much more trouble than a measly paycheck could take care of. The damage was already done though. She had taken the job and as much as she wanted to, quitting was not an option. There were bills to pay and Dawnie to think of. This wasn’t the time to be selfish.

“I’ll call her tomorrow and find out what happened. Maybe I can beg her to come back with a little monetary compensation,” she said, glancing up at his suddenly very happy face.

“Hey, wait a minute, buster! Don’t think you’re going to get out of cleaning this. You made this mess and you are going to pick it up.”

“Were you this much of a ball buster with Dru?” He pouted.

“I didn’t need to be. She was controlling enough for the both of us and you.”

As soon as she said it, she knew she had made a mistake. Spike’s face turned red and she could see the large vein in his neck bulge out. Whoops!

His jaw clenched as he ground out, “I know.”

She was just about to apologize when she heard him. He was acting out of character again, well, mostly. It was obvious that he was angry and that was very normal, but he was holding back. The Spike she remembered would have just ripped her a new one and stomped off to sulk. This Spike…?

“I’m sorry, Spike. I shouldn’t have brought her up.”

He visibly calmed himself and said, “You didn’t. I did. And its okay, luv. She was controlling. I guess I jus’ don’t like being reminded of how much I let her control me.”

His honesty startled her. Spike had always been a brutally honest kinda guy, but he had never spoke ill of Dru or his relationship with her. The fact that he was confiding in her made her feel like she had accidentally read his journal or something.

Stepping over to him, she brought her hand up to caress his cheek. “It’ll get better.”

Tears gathered in his cerulean eyes and he took a deep cleansing breath before grabbing her hand and kissing it. “I hope so, sweets, ‘cause I’m afraid it can’t get much worse than this.”

He held her hand for what seemed like hours and she gave him one last reassuring squeeze before taking her hand back. “Hey, what do you say we get these bags up to my room and then we can see about getting some dinner in you?”

“Sounds good. Food sounds really good. I feel like I haven’t eaten in weeks,” he said, a spark of teasing in his smile.

Buffy laughed. He was baiting her into that and he should know better by now. “Well, that’s because you’ve been to busy entertaining your friends all that time. What were their names again? Jack, Johnny, Jose, and Jim?”

They trudged up the staircase and went to Buffy’s old room, setting her stuff in the closet.

Glancing around, Spike frowned. “You can redecorate this if you want.”

“Hey! There is nothing wrong with this room. I happen to like doilies and paisley print wallpaper. Oh, and the pink carpet…to die for!”

Spike looked blankly at her before bursting into a fit of laughter. Soon, the both of them were laughing hysterically.

Dru’s unfortunate taste in decorating was splashed all over the house, but this room had been hit the worst. Pink, pink, and more pink. Pink curtains, pink bedspread and pink lampshades. Now it wasn’t that pink was a bad color, in Buffy’s opinion, but a whole room full of it was a bit much. And it wasn’t even a nice shade of pink; it was like fuchsia or something as equally grotesque.

“Well, if it gets too bad, you can always bunk with me.”

Now there was an interesting prospect. Hey! Noooo! No sleeping with your hot boss! Damn her inner voice! It was right, unfortunately. Getting involved with one’s boss, especially one as screwed up as Spike was, could only lead to trouble.

“Speaking of bunking, have you cleaned up that mess you made in there?” She decided to skirt around the comment instead of saying something blanketed in sexual innuendo.

He huffed a little like a spoiled child. “I scrubbed the carpet, Mum. It smelled right awful in there and Patricia wasn’t here t’ help me, so I tried my best t’ get it out.”

“First of all, it’s Paulina, not Patricia. Secondly, I don’t think anyone could have saved that carpet, not even Stanley Steamer. You’ll probably have to replace it.”

“Good. I’m sick of that damn white carpet. How about we cover the whole house with black?”

“Okay, that is seriously lame. If you’re gonna do that, why don’t you just get Astro-Turf laid down?” Buffy told him, leaving the room and making her way downstairs to the kitchen.

Spike followed closely behind her. “What the hell does that mean?”

She turned around and pointed her finger into his chest. “Don’t give me that crap. I know the only reason you want black carpet in here is so if you spill something you won’t have to clean it up. You’re such a guy-guy, Spike.”

“That’s not the only reason,” Spike argued, his lower lip poking out into a pout again.

God, he really needed to stop doing that. She already thought he was hot, adding adorable to that was not going to help her any.

“Suuure,” she drawled out, opening the fridge and trying to find something edible to make for dinner.

The fridge hadn’t been cleaned out in over a month. She knew that because the salad she had made the night of Dru’s leaving was still sitting on the shelf, now black with rot and fuzzed over.

“Well, I guess, cooking is out.” She moved over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a phone book. “Chinese take-out, sound good?”

Spike nodded and proceeded to give her a verbal list of all of the dishes he wanted. Picking up the phone, she dialed the restaurant and after being greeted, started telling them the order for delivery.

“Oh! Oh! Tell them I want some o’ those little fried pork things with the sweet sauce, too!” Spike told her excitedly.

Adorable. Damn him!



******



Forty-five minutes later found Buffy and Spike sitting in the kitchen picking at each other’s food.

“So, have you got any family?” Spike asked with a mouthful of Mu Shu Pork.

He watched as her smile dissipated. “Yeah, one younger sister, one absentee father, and one dead mother.”

A pang of guilt speared through him. Damn, he shouldn’t have asked but he really was curious. What kind of a person could wait on their employer 24/7? Didn’t they have a life outside of their work? Apparently, Buffy didn’t.

“I’m sorry, luv. My mum died, too, so I know how that feels,” he told her, knowing that it wouldn’t be of much consolation.

Buffy shrugged. “She died a while ago, but I still miss her a lot, you know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

When his mother had died, he’d been devastated. There was nothing like losing a parent and he imagined, Buffy had gone through the same emotions as he had when her own mother had passed.

“How about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

“No.” He shook his head. “No siblings. My dad lives in London though.”

“Oh? Do you get to see him much?”

“Not too much. We’ve, uh, kinda been on the outs since me an’ Dru got together. He didn’ think I should marry her.” Oh, hindsight was always twenty/twenty. “I guess I shoulda listened t’ him, huh?”

“We have to make our own mistakes to learn from them.”

It sounded as if she had learned that lesson already.

“Speakin’ of mistakes, you know I’m supposed t’ be on tour now, right?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, I might have heard something about that.”

“Well, I should probably tell you now that in two weeks, we’re gonna finish out the remaining tour dates.”

Spike had talked to the Dingoes’ manager a couple days earlier and they had managed to work out a plan for not only the remaining dates, but the dates they had missed as well. It was the first step he’d made since Dru left him to get back on track with his music.

“So, you’ll be gone for a while then?”

It was possible that he had forgotten to mention this part when he was trying to get her to work for him. “Actually, you’re comin’ with so…”

Her green eyes went wide. “What do you mean? I can’t go on tour with you.”

“Why not? You went with Dru when she did her movies.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t on a bus for weeks at a time with four men as my only company, either,” she told him, her chopsticks slapping onto the table.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he took a deep breath before finding the words to say. “You won’t be the only woman on the bus, luv.”

Suddenly, she was standing, her chair kicked towards the wall. Oh, this didn’t look good.

“If you think I’m going to bunk with a bunch of men and their…groupies, especially yours, we can just call this me working for you thing off. I’m not gonna do it,” she shouted at him, her finger waving in his face.

“Groupies? What the hell are you goin’ on about? I’m talkin’ about Anya, our manager, who happens t’ be the woman I was speakin’ of.”

Buffy stood there with her chest heaving, idle for a minute or so before calmly grabbing her chair and sitting back down. She picked up her chopsticks and started playing with her chow mein.

“So, uh, when are we leaving?”

Sorry about the delay in posting, guys. My muse ditched me at some point after I posted last (and I’ve heard rumors that she was out at the Second Street Bar, boozin’ it up and flashing the bartender for free drinks) and then my computer went all wonky. Damn Murphy’s Law!

Well, here it is. I hope you enjoy and feel gracious enough to give me a little feedback. You guys rock! ~Jae




In the three days since Buffy had come to work for him, Spike had redefined their relationship from strictly business to an unusual friendship. A friendship that consisted mostly of her verbally abusing him and of his eating up every single syllable.

Pausing at the carpet samples, he picked up a piece of black Berber. Somehow Buffy had convinced him to go with hardwood instead of re-carpeting, but he was still kind of drawn to the idea of black on black. Sure, he knew it wasn’t tasteful to make your house look like a bat cave, but what the hell did he care?

He had received another ‘wish list’ from Dru’s attorney and on it was an intricate catalog of items she wanted in the divorce settlement. He had half a mind to give it all to her too. All he required in life was a guitar, a bottle of booze, and a stage. The house and all the crap in it were unimportant.

On the other hand, he had contributed a lot to that damn house. Why should Dru be the sole receiver of everything they had accumulated or built? She was the one who left him and if he listened to Buffy, she shouldn’t get one bleedin’ cent.

Spying Buffy make her way towards the hardwood display, he dropped the carpet sample and wandered off after her.

“What do you think of this, Spike?” She asked him, pointing to a piece of mahogany.

Spike shrugged. “I don’ know. Pick out what you like.”

The argument was already floating through the air before she even opened her mouth. On instinct, he winced and prepared himself for the worst.

“It’s your house, you pick. I’m here to help you, not make your decisions for you.”

Oh, but she was a sharp-tongued beauty. Not once in the days they had been together had she ever let him dump his responsibilities on her. And yes, he had cleaned the living room with her pushing him all the way.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Her rock-solid determination to get him back into functionality was essential in his day to day existence without Dru and he appreciated every minute of her pushing. Without Buffy, he’d still be dead drunk and probably on his way straight to Hell right about now.

“I like this one, then.”

She glanced down at his choice and snorted. “You just had to pick something with ‘black’ in the name, didn’t you?”

The tag on it said Walnut, American Black and he smirked at her. It was completely unintentional, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, had t’ get my way somehow,” he replied, poking her in the arm.

He hadn’t thought about it much until just now, but somehow their interactions had become more and more affectionate. Buffy didn’t seem to have any issues with the small gestures they made towards each other and he certainly wasn’t complaining. But it was new and a little unnerving.

As a child, he had always been very affectionate. His mother always operated under the assumption that if you love someone you should show it. In the Giles’ house, love wasn’t something to be hidden, it was to be rejoiced.

When he went out on his own, though, he found the world didn’t share his particular outlook. In a society that viewed physical love only as a sexual act, he was quite bewildered. Soon, that view became his own and the only time he showed affection was when he was with a woman.

Marrying Dru hadn’t changed that. Truth be told, Dru was not the touchy-feely type and any desire he had to express his adoration for her diminished quickly when she wouldn’t allow him to touch her outside of the bedroom.

Now, with Buffy, he was returning to a place he hadn’t been to in years. And the fact that it came so naturally to the both of them, made him feel like he was losing his grip, like he had no control.

“Okay, now that we’ve settled that, I need to find the guy I talked to yesterday about the installation,” she told him, walking off towards the customer service desk.

Apparently, she had called around to twelve different flooring companies before she found one that could install almost 6100 square feet of hardwood next week within a four-day time table. Of course, this would cost a pretty penny, but it needed to get done before the Dingoes went back on tour and she couldn’t leave the supervision to the newly rehired, Paulina.

The over-done blond girl at the customer service desk immediately started to ignore Buffy as soon as she noticed him walk up to the counter.

“Hi! Welcome to Finn Flooring, can I be of service to you?” She was bright and bubbly and most certainly one of the most dimwitted creatures he had come across in recent memory.

“Uh…” He turned to Buffy, watching her face grow red with anger. Poor girl won’t know what hit her.

“Excuse me. But I believe you were helping me first,” Buffy said through clenched teeth.

If the girl was smart, she would apologize and kiss some cute Buffy ass. But as luck would have it, Blondie did the exact opposite. It was kind of like watching one of those extreme video shows where the newscaster is interviewing some local zoo keeper and the ‘completely docile’ bear or lion goes berserk on the unsuspecting interviewer. Not pretty.

“You will just have to wait your turn,” Blondie retorted, giving Buffy the Evil Glare of Death.

Buffy moved forward and slapped her hands on the counter. “Listen to me, you stupid bottle-blond moron! I was here first, so why don’t you go run those little Gucci knock-off heels to the manager’s office and get him over here.”

“Hey, you don’t have to be rude to me.”

Like watching a train wreck…

“Oh! Rude? This isn’t nearly as rude as I wanna be, so push me a little farther, please. C’mon, I dare ya!”

“Buffy, jus’ calm-”

Throwing up a hand, she halted him. “Don’t even go there, Spike. Just stay out of this.”

He should be upset with her for dismissing him again, but how could he be when the scene before him was so entertaining? Buffy was a little firecracker. Loud, explosive and absolutely awe-inspiring. Who needed the telly with her around?

“I’m going to get the manager! You have no right to be mean to me!” Blondie stomped off, her whiney voice echoing through the store.



******



Buffy was fuming.

Looking over to Spike, she saw him doubled over in a fit of laughter. Damn him! It wasn’t funny!

“What are you laughing at? This is your fault, you know,” she told him, her arms crossing over her chest.

“My fault? How is it my fault? You were the one gettin’ all pissy with the girl,” he replied.

“Well, if you hadn’t of shown up, she wouldn’t have been distracted.”

His hands went up in a defensive gesture. “Excuse me, luv, but what was I supposed t’ do? Stand over by the display like a good little boy while mummy went t’ talk with the other adults? Give me a bleedin’ break, Buffy.”

“No,” she snapped back. “But how am I supposed to get anything done with you flashing your hot self to everyone? You are distracting.”

He wasn’t offended. Quite the contrary, actually, since he seemed to be very amused by her outburst. A devilish grin and sparkling blue eyes stared back at her and she had the sudden urge to do one of two things. Smack him upside his silly bleach-blond head or make out with him on the tile display case.

“Think I’m hot, eh? I knew you weren’t immune t’ my manly charisma,” he said, his hand beginning a slow trail from his chest downward.

“Hey! Hey, no touching yourself!” She grabbed his hand and gave it a slap. “There could be children around, Mr. Corruptor Guy.”

“Oh, baby, you’re the only one I wanna corrupt.”

Whoa! Stop this before it gets out of control, Buffy. She knew better than to encourage his flirtations since he couldn’t seem to hold his tongue around her.

“What is taking that girl so long?” It wasn’t her best stop-flirting-by-changing-the-subject move, but it would have to do.

Suddenly, she saw the girl with a tall, hunky guy following closely behind her.

“Miss Kendall said you wanted to speak with the manager?” The guy asked, a small frown on his lips.

“Yes, I called here yesterday and spoke to someone about getting flooring installed next week and when I came up here, your employee was very rude to me,” Buffy replied, throwing the girl a dirty glance.

“Yesterday? I don’t suppose you’re Miss Summers?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Closing his eyes, he shook his head slightly before offering his hand to her. “I’m Riley Finn. I was the one you spoke to yesterday. I know we were supposed to get together today to discuss the details, but I must have spaced it. I‘m really sorry for your inconvenience.”

Her anger started to dissipate and it wasn’t long before she decided to kill her crusade to get the girl fired. “That’s okay. We never really discussed a time, so I can’t really expect you to wait for one customer all day.”

Riley grinned. “Oh, I think waiting for you all day wouldn’t be so bad.”

She could see Spike roll his eyes at that comment. So, Riley’s teasing comment was sort of corny, but sweet in any case. And Spike had no room to be passing judgment on lame pick-up lines.

Instead of enabling Riley to flirt more, she just smiled and shook his hand.

“So, I think we picked out what we wanted,” she said.

Riley turned to look at Spike, a shocked expression on his face. Apparently, he had gotten the impression that she would be coming alone even though she didn’t remember telling him one way or the other over the phone.

“Uh, hello. Riley Finn.” Riley stuck out his hand.

Scoffing at the proffered hand, Spike hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans. “Let’s jus’ get a move on this. Got stuff t’ do, ya know.”

Buffy flicked him in the arm as they made their way back to the hardwood section of the store. “Knock it off!” She warned him in a hushed tone. “He’s just trying to be nice.”

“Yeah, whatever, pet. That guy’s got ulterior motives, I can tell.”

“All guys have ulterior motives.”

A look that bordered between anger and hurt passed over his face. “I’ve never been anythin’ other than straight with you.”

“Yeah, but you’re not potential boyfriend material either, so you don’t count.”

This conversation was sliding deeper and deeper into no man’s land and if she didn’t shut her big, fat mouth soon, she would regret it. She kept forgetting that he was still a broken man beneath all of the swagger and sarcasm. With a quick turn of a phrase, she could hurt him and that bothered her more than she liked to admit.

The next fifteen minutes were spent listening to Riley drone on about the difference between several types of flooring and proper maintenance of hardwood. At some point there had even been a humorless joke about carpet thrown in. Another fifteen minutes were spent paying for the flooring and going over the scheduling for the install.

She waved goodbye to Riley as they walked out of the store and to the car. It hadn’t escaped her attention that Spike had remained silent throughout Riley’s little lecture or the fact that he stared down at his shoes the entire time.

Why did she have to be such a bitch all the time? When she saw a weakness, her first instinct was to always go for the jugular. With Spike, there was nothing but weakness and self-doubt and even though she never wanted to hurt him, she couldn’t seem to stop the horrible things that spilled out of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” she said once they were in the car.

“For what?” He mumbled, fiddling with the seatbelt buckle.

Sighing, Buffy turned to him and placed a hand on his arm. “I didn’t mean it. I just can’t stop being such a bitch for some reason.”

He suddenly looked up at her, his eyes watery with unshed tears. “You’re not a bitch, luv. You’re jus’ you and I happen t’ like you very much.”

“I know, but what I said, it was-”

“Buffy, can we not. I jus’ want t’ go home and pretend that the last half an hour never happened.”

Somehow, she didn’t think it could be forgotten just like that, but she didn’t argue. “Okay. Home it is.”

Thanks for all the reviews. I hope you all know how much I appreciate your feedback. It really feeds us writers. Well, enough with the mushy stuff and on with the fic…





Tuning his black acoustic guitar, Spike glanced up when he heard the door to his small studio open. He had called his bandmates when he and Buffy had returned from the flooring place for an impromptu rehearsal.

“Hey, Spike! How’re they hanging these days?” Oliver Alden, the lead guitarist said as he made his way over to a table and set his guitar case down.

“Bit high and riding t’ the left,” Spike replied, resting his own instrument over his lap.

Oliver snorted. “In the circumstances, you better be glad she didn’t just lop it all off and mail it back to you, mate.”

Well, he did have a point and besides, Oliver would know all about how far Dru would go to end things since he’d been the one to date her first. If Spike recalled correctly, Dru had nailed a cow heart to Oliver’s front door with a note when she had decided to move on without him.

But Oliver wasn’t the type to be bothered by such things. If anything, he’d been amused by her little antics. He always did have a thing for the crazy ones.

“I s’pose you’re right.”

One day he would be able to look back on this whole thing with Dru and laugh, but today was not that day. They hadn’t even been to court yet for the divorce proceedings, so Spike knew he had a long road ahead of him.

“I know I’m right. You don’t even know what that girl’s capable of,” Oliver told him, pulling his guitar out of the case.

“Oh, I think I’m beginning to.”

Oliver shrugged. “Don’t drop your guard, is all I got to say.”

A bark of laughter escaped his lips. “I believe I recall you tellin’ me that when I married her.”

“And?” Oliver pointed a finger at him. “Did you listen to me? Stupid git.”

It was true. He hadn’t listened, but in his own defense, he was in love with her. How could he even begin to imagine all of the horrible things she could and would do? Dru was his dark princess, his salvation. She could do no wrong.

Of course, his opinion began to change when all of the tabloids splashed her extramarital activities all over their front pages. The evidence was irrefutable. Pictures, very explicit pictures, actually, of her and her costars left little doubt that she was cheating on him.

When he had first seen the pictures, he’d been in denial. They must have been fakes or someone else that looked like his wife, it couldn’t be Dru. She wouldn’t do that to him not after they had taken vows to be true to each other.

What a bloody fool he had been to believe any of her lies. After a while, she even stopped trying to convince him she was faithful. They both knew so there wasn’t any point in saying otherwise.

“Don’t think about it. It’ll only make it worse.”

Turning to look at his friend, Spike saw only deep concern etched on the fellow Brit’s face. Oliver knew him better than most and sometimes it was a little unnerving to hear him answer unspoken thoughts.

Spike had met Oliver through Dru when they first started seeing each other. When he found out Oliver was Dru’s ex, Spike hadn’t exactly held out the olive branch. Truth be told, Spike hated the bastard. Oliver had everything Spike wanted, a fairly successful band, a nice place to hang his hat, and the adoration of Dru.

It had taken about a year for Spike to finally get over his animosity towards Oliver. After Oliver’s band split up, he and Spike began hanging out more and more with each other, playing music, writing songs, and forming a fast friendship.

“Yeah, easy for you t’ say. You didn’t jus’ have your heart ripped out of your chest and run over by a car,” Spike retorted, flicking at one of the strings on his guitar, making an angry sound.

Folding his arms over his chest, Oliver just shook his head. “You’re not ready to have this conversation with me. We both know that.”

Damn bloody psychic!

“Howdy-ho!” Xander greeted loudly as he and Daniel ‘Oz’ Osbourne walked into the studio.

Both Brits gave a short nod in response and Xander rolled his eyes. “Do you guys like practice to get in such perfect unison or is it just a natural talent?”

“Shut up, whelp!” They said in unison, then looked at each other and started laughing.

Xander threw up his hands. “Hopeless.”

They started setting up their instruments and Spike couldn’t help but notice the uncomfortable silence they were all working in. He couldn’t really blame them for being pissed off at him. Not only had he forced them to cancel several tour dates, he had effectively shut them out of his life.

The band was almost secondary to their friendship and he knew they had been worried about him for the month he had been MIA. The dozens of phone calls and knocks on his door were proof of that.

“So how are you and Buffy getting along?” Xander asked, adjusting his bass drum closer to his stool.

Spike had been trying to not think about Buffy. They needed the practice, but that wasn’t the real reason he called them over. What she had said to him at the flooring store had really bothered him, so much so that he didn’t feel like he could be around her for a while. A practice would let him clear his mind and take his worries elsewhere.

“Fine.”

Xander started to make some sort of comment, when Oliver interrupted him. “She seems like a nice girl. Met her a couple times.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Oliver gave him a strange look before tossing a cable at Xander, which hit him in the shoulder because he wasn’t paying attention.

“Hey!” Xander rubbed his shoulder and scowled. “The mood in here sucks. You guys need to lighten up or I’m just gonna have to go hang out somewhere else.”

“Good luck with that,” Oz deadpanned, slipping the strap to his bass over his head.

A reluctant laughter filled the room and Spike felt some of the tension leave the group. They would never survive the tour if they didn’t get it together soon.

“How about we just play?” Oliver finally said, his black eyebrows up in question.

“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Xander replied.




******



Buffy sliced into a tomato as she busied herself with making sandwiches for the band.

Spike hadn’t said much to her during the car ride home and once they got there he scurried off to get in touch with his bandmates. She hadn’t seen him since.

It was painfully obvious he needed some time away from her after she had verbally slapped him. And the worst part about the whole thing was that she hadn’t meant anything she’d said to him. She knew he didn’t have some sort of hidden agenda and as for him not being boyfriend material…she was doing everything in her power to stop thinking of him that way.

He wasn’t ready for another relationship and she couldn’t be the transitional girl for him. No matter how she felt about him, it just wouldn’t work out.

Spreading mustard on a piece of white bread, she tried to remember whether Spike liked turkey or not.

Okay, so she took pride in the fact that she knew inane little details of Spike’s preferences. And her outlook on the role she played was probably antiquated being that she was a woman living in the 21st century, but she couldn’t help it if she enjoyed taking care of others. If she was indispensable to Spike, then she knew she was doing her job right.

She piled the sandwiches on a tray and grabbed a couple bags of potato chips before carrying them over to the studio.

Music streamed out of the small building as she crossed the lawn to it. Just as she reached the door, Spike’s voice hit a high note and her knees went a little weak. Damn, the man could sing.

Opening the door, she squeezed herself in so as not to disturb them and went to set the food down on a table.

His eyes were closed, his voice raw from emotion as he belted out a song she recognized as being their first single. He held the mic in both hands as he sung into it with everything he had. A sheer layer of sweat glistened under the overhead lights and his normally tamed to submission hair was wet, platinum blond curls falling unhindered on his damp forehead.

All she could do was stand in awe of him.

Which is exactly the reason she didn’t realize the song had finished and that all four men were now staring at her in amusement.

“See somethin’ you like, luv?” Spike’s voice broke through her lust-induced haze.

Oh, yeah. She saw something she really liked. Mmm…

“Uh, sandwiches,” she blurted out in her haste to shake her naughty thoughts away.

He smirked at her, suggesting she was thinking out loud. His hand left the mic and slid down the stand, stopping midway only to go back up.

“You brought food?” Xander suddenly exclaimed. “Oh, you are the freakin’ best, Buff!” He hopped over his drums and made a beeline for the food, almost knocking her over in the process.

“Sweets, I think it best not to mention food around him again. He might mistake your arm for a drumstick next time,” Oliver said with a wink.

She giggled. “I’ll try and remember that.”

“Do we have anything to drink?” Xander asked his mouth full of food.

Buffy frowned. “Oh, I must have forgotten them. I’ll be right back.”

Starting for the house, she jumped slightly when she heard Spike’s voice. “Wait up, pet. I’ll help you.”

“Okay,” she replied, walking beside him back into the house.

Once in the kitchen, Buffy walked over to the refrigerator and started pulling out cans of soft drinks and bottled water, setting them on the counter behind her.

“You didn’t have t’ do that, luv.”

Buffy stood up and looked at Spike, who was sitting on a tall stool next to the counter. “I know, but you guys were working so hard out there I figured you could use a break.”

Sighing, Spike ran a hand through his damp curls. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“What do you mean? If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I’m the one who can’t keep her mouth shut,” she replied.

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have jus’ run off.” His blue eyes narrowed as he stood and walked to her. “Look, I don’ know what this-” He motioned between them. “-is, but I feel like you are the only one I can talk to.”

Her breath hitched at his admission. How was she supposed to respond to that? He was baring himself to her and suddenly, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

“I know I got m’mates in there that I should be able t’ bear my soul to, but nothing comes out when I try. You an’ I have a connection, Buffy. I can feel it,” he finished quietly, his hand coming up to brush a strand of her hair from her face.

Her eyes closed at the sensation of his skin against hers and she felt herself drowning in his touch. He was so close now that his warm breath hushed against her cheek and a shudder went through her body.

“Buffy,” he whispered, his fingertip grazing over her lower lip.

She looked up at him through her lashes. His breathing was heavy and he stared intently at his finger tracing her mouth, blue eyes turned almost black in pools of need. Her tongue darted out unconsciously to moisten her parched skin and caught his fingertip by accident.

Trembling, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her flush against him. Her breasts pressed flat against his chest, she could feel his hard muscles along the entire length of her body. He backed her up against the refrigerator door and ran his hand from her waist up to cup her jaw.

“I bet you taste sweet,” he murmured before capturing her lower lip between his.

Heart pounding, blood running hot through her veins, she fell into the flood of feelings that he was creating with his mouth. His tongue darted out, running over her lips as he sought entrance. With a gasp, she opened her mouth and he responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping in and rubbing against her own.

Her hands went to his chest, needing to feel him. God, it was so wrong. She had promised herself she wouldn’t give into her lust for him, but here she was, wantonly rubbing her calf up his leg and pulling his lower body closer to the center of her need.

He fisted a hand in her hair and ground his body into hers. Sparks flew through her, the heat of it almost unbearable and she pushed herself farther into the kiss. The fire within her was raging and she needed to release the pressure building deep inside before she burst.

“Unh,” she moaned, her hand reaching around to grab his ass. She needed to feel him against her, in her. Her body was so close to completion, teetering on the edge of glorious pleasure.

“Oh my-”

“Hey, are you guys in here? Xander’s gettin’ antsy.”

A/N: Thanks for all the great comments. Mucho appreciated. ~Jae




At the sound of Oliver’s voice, Spike broke away from Buffy, panting heavily. Of all the bloody times to interrupt…

“Yeah, we’re in here,” Spike called out, his eyes never leaving Buffy.

God, she was gorgeous. All flushed and tousled, her lips bee-stung from their fervent snogging. Her beautiful green eyes were glazed over with passionate need and Spike wanted nothing more than to finish what they started. But he could hear Oliver’s fast footsteps getting closer to the kitchen, so he would just have to wait.

“Hey, we thought you two had gotten lost in here,” Oliver said with a grin as he sauntered into the kitchen.

“Nah, just talkin’ is all,” Spike replied, leaning up against the counter.

Oliver gave him one of his patented you’re-full-of-shit glares and folded his tanned arms over his chest. “Ah, I see. Well, I think we’re about ready to wrap it up. So, we’ll just let ourselves out, yeah?”

“N-No, don’t leave,” Buffy suddenly stuttered out.

Turning to look at her, Spike realized that at some point in the ten seconds that had separated their make-out session and the small conversation with Oliver, Buffy had regained her ability to think. Shit! That did not bode well for all of the activities he had been planning for later than evening.

Nope, she was all serious-Buffy now and he was not looking forward to the conversation or perhaps lack thereof that would follow.

“Nah, sweets. It’s been a long day and I think we all need to hit the road,” Oliver said, taking the few steps to stand in front of her. He picked up her hand and gave it a kiss that had Spike seeing red. “Thanks for the lunch. See you soon, lovey.”

“I’ll be right back, Buffy,” Spike told her as he followed Oliver out to the studio.

Running up behind him, Spike gave a hard push to Oliver’s back and watched as his friend tumbled down on the grass.

“You bloody arse!”

Oliver responded by laughing so hard his face began to turn red. “I knew it! You’ve got a thing for that girl, don‘t you?”

“I…”

“Don’t tell me you just want to shag her. I know you too well, Will,” Oliver told him, standing up and brushing the grass off of his black jeans.

Spike pouted at that. “What the hell do you know? I’m not lookin’ for anything serious, she’s just a…”

“Just a what?” Oliver rolled his eyes. “You can’t play that story on me, mate. You’ve never been the kind to hit and run. And I suspect that hasn’t changed one bit.”

“It’s wrong though,” Spike replied softly.

Shrugging, Oliver linked his arm through Spike’s and led him over to a bench. “Why’s it wrong?”

“Shouldn’t I be jus’ wanting the no strings deal? Go out and shag a few brainless chits and go about my merry way.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Well, geez, Will. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re just not built that way.”

“Why the hell not? Why can’t I be-”

“More like me?” Oliver supplied.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“No offense, mate, but I am nothing to be aspiring to so I hope you’re not holding me up on a bleedin’ pedestal.”

“Why shouldn’t I? You’ve got it all, Olie,” Spike confessed.

Oliver chuckled and shook his head. “Is that so? Well, let me enlighten you. There is more to life that fame, fortune, and pussy and unfortunately, your good buddy here, the one you think has such a great life, doesn’t have much more than that.”

“Doesn’t sound like such a raw deal t’ me,” Spike retorted.

“No? Seems a bit empty from my perspective.”

This wasn’t an argument Spike would ever win, he knew that. First of all, he was well aware that Oliver did live a kind of marshmallow existence. All fluff and sweets, but no substance. But it seemed to work out well for him despite the fact that Oliver seemed to just be floating through life without any real ties to anything solid other than the Dingoes.

“Question is, what are you going to do now?”

“What do you mean?” Spike asked, his brows furrowed.

“About the girl? You care for her?”

Spike gave him a dumb look. “That’s a bloody stupid question. You know I do or we wouldn’t be talkin’ about it.”

But it had raised an interesting point. What was he going to do now? He didn’t really know where he stood with Buffy other than they both seemed to have an insatiable lust for each other. Did he want a relationship with her?

Well, being that they were halfway there already, it didn’t seem like that much of a stretch to envision more. And he did want more.

“I think you should talk to her,” Oliver suggested with a smile.

“Yeah, talk. Easier said than done.”



******



Scrubbing at the same spot on the counter, Buffy tried hard to clean her thoughts away.

She had just practically screwed Spike against the refrigerator door. Of all the stupid, idiotic, brainless things to do! What the heck was wrong with her?

But god, it had felt so good. She couldn’t recall how long it had been since she’d had sex or even had the opportunity to have it. Dru had taken up every spare minute of her time and there was no room left for romance, much less sex.

This was bad though, no matter how great it had felt to be kissed by him.

“Buffy?”

She spun around so fast that the sponge she was cleaning with flew out of her hand and slapped against the wall.

“Spike?” Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Are you okay, luv?” He asked with genuine concern.

Gah! How could she shoot him down when he looked at her like that? All cute with his tilted head and pouty lip.

No! Stop thinking about him like that! She had to stay strong and resist his charms. Mmm…charms.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, turning her attention back to the counter.

“C’mon, Buffy, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

She heard his sigh of frustration and wished she could just bypass the whole thing. The last thing she felt like doing was hurting him again, but there wasn’t an alternative. Whatever was going on between them needed to be killed before it got out of hand. Well, further out of hand, anyway.

“Ignore what happened. We kissed, luv. That’s not something you can just pretend didn’t happen,” he replied, a desperate tone to his voice.

Oh, this was going to hurt. “Oh, really? ‘Cause that was just what I was planning on doing.”

There was silence for a moment and Buffy wondered if he had left the room. But suddenly, two strong hands grasped her shoulders and twisted her around.

His expression was fierce with a tight jaw and dark eyes. “You are bloody infuriating, you know that?”

Yeah, she was starting to piss herself off, so she kind of knew where he was coming from.

“Whatever, Spike. Can we just drop it?”

“No! We can’t!”

Well, that was new. Take Charge Spike complete with aggressive behavior and unwavering determination.

“I’m tired of just droppin’ the stuff we don’t want to discuss because it’s too painful or too uncomfortable. We shared something and we need to talk about it,” he told her, his gaze intensifying.

“We don’t need to talk about anything because nothing happened,” she replied.

He threw up his arms and paced away from her. “The hell it didn’t, Buffy! You felt something, I know you did.”

“So what if I did? Nothing can come of it, so why even bother discussing it?”

“Why not?”

The reasons why not could fill a book. “Because you are just getting out of your relationship with Dru and I-”

Shaking his head, he repeated the word no over and over again. “This has nothin’ to do with her. You’re all I think about now. Not her.”

“Spike, you can’t just end a five year marriage and have it all be okay. You are still hurting, I can see it,” Buffy replied.

He stopped pacing and stared at her. “But I don’t want t’ hurt anymore. I just want t’ move on with my life and I need you to help me. I can’t do it alone, Buffy. I need you with me.”

Her heart ached for him and she desperately wanted to be what he thought he needed. But in the end, it would only hurt him more and almost certainly hurt her as well.

Walking to him, she wrapped her arm around his waist and held him tight. He was so fragile, his soul still bruised from heartache and she knew he had be handled with kid gloves.

“I am here with you, Spike. But we can’t be together,” she said softly, her fingertips brushing against his cheek. “I don’t have any excuses for what happened earlier. All I can offer you right now is my friendship.”

A tear slid down his cheek and he quickly swiped it away. “Fine. If that’s the way you want it, then that’s the way it’ll be.”

Spike’s emotions were a roller coaster and not one of the fun kinds either. No, he was up and down, depressed and angry, black and white. It was either or with him and nothing in the middle.

“Spike, please don’t be like that.”

His eyes turned sad. “You’re not givin’ me a choice, luv. This is it.”

“Why can’t we be like we were before? Why does it have to change?” She asked.

“Before? You mean with me followin’ you around like a lost puppy while you knocked me down every chance you got? No, Buffy. I can’t do it.”

“If I’ve been so horrible to you, why do you even want me around?” She shot back defensively.

“Because you are the only thing holdin’ me together!” He shouted at her, his fists clenched not in anger but in frustration.

It wasn’t often she was rendered speechless, but this could be chalked up to being one of those times. Just when she thought she knew what was going on inside his head, he came out with something like this and completely floored her.

“Spike-”

“Please don’t leave me, Buffy. God, I’ll do whatever you want, be whatever you want. Just don’t go,” he begged, his hand latching onto hers and holding on for dear life.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, Spike. I’m here.”






Ahh, yes, the angst. It was bound to rear is ugly little head eventually, but never fear, the tour is coming up soon and I predict small, confined spaces will do more than just heat tempers. Much love ~Jae

Buffy watched as a truck, with the words ‘Finn Flooring’ emblazoned on the side in dull blue block lettering, pulled into the driveway of the house.

They were almost a welcome sight after the almost painful silence that had befallen the house following the incident in the kitchen between her and Spike. She hadn’t seen much of him in the five days that seemed to drag by at a snail’s pace. He spent most of his time in the studio, obviously needing his space from her.

Not that she blamed him.

Opening the front door to greet them, she froze when she saw Riley Finn jump down from the passenger side of the truck. This couldn’t be good.

“Buffy! How are you this morning?” Riley asked, walking over to her with a huge smile.

“Riley,” she replied in a false cheeriness. “I’m doing great. How about you?”

He leaned over and touched her arm. “Wonderful. I’m glad to see you again.”

Glancing over her shoulder nervously, she looked for any sign of Spike before patting his hand and returning his smile. “Yeah, me too.”

Now logically, she knew that Spike had no claim over her. They weren’t dating and hadn’t even progressed to the point where they could spend five minutes with each other without fighting, but none of that stopped her from feeling like she was being unfaithful to him by talking to Riley. It was ridiculous!

And yet, when he moved to put his hand on her shoulder, she backed away from him. Great, she thought, not only can I not have Spike, but now he’s ruined me for other guys, too?! This was just getting better and better.

If Riley noticed her shy away from him, he didn’t comment. “So, we’re all set to get this floor laid down, right?”

“Absolutely!”




******




His fists clenched, Spike felt his anger come to a boil as he watched Buffy touch Riley’s hand and give him one of her beautiful smiles.

Oh, so this was how it was going to be? She wouldn’t give him a chance but she didn’t have any problems giving Farm Boy her attention? Bloody bitch!

Throwing the curtains back over the window, he stomped down the stairs and out to his studio. His music had been his only solace these last few days. He couldn’t talk to Buffy even though he desperately wanted to and he couldn’t keep his emotions bottled up for long before they exploded into rage. So music was his only outlet at this point.

He slammed the door and locked it, making sure he couldn’t be interrupted and plugged his guitar into the amp. Crashing his fingers into the guitar’s strings, the instrument screamed as if in pain.

It was no wonder she didn’t want him. He was a sorry excuse for a man, wallowing in his own self-pity and throwing tantrums. And he was still hurting over Dru’s careless disposal of him, that Buffy had been right about.

Love hadn’t been a part of their marriage for a long time though. He had convinced himself that he loved her for the sake of keeping them together, but the truth of it was he just hadn’t wanted to be alone. What hurt the most was how Dru had tossed him aside as if he had meant nothing. Even though he hadn’t been in love with her, he still cared for the woman.

His temper faded and he slumped down in an old green velvet chair. He was loosing his bloody mind. Things were blurry and disorientating now in a way he had never before experienced. Who the hell was he if he wasn’t Dru’s kept boy? Not the man she had made and not the boy he was before her, Spike questioned his own identity.

Rubbing at his temples furiously, he tried to wish the pain away. This wasn’t going to get any easier, he knew that, but a little reprieve from his insanity might be helpful in getting him through the worst of it.

It wasn’t fair to be piling all of his baggage on Buffy, either. She had wanted to help him, not to fix him. That was something he’d have to do all on his own.

Standing up, he decided to stop being such a child and go talk to Buffy. This tour was going to be rough enough without fighting with her and he needed her to be his rock. Even if she was just there physically it would help tremendously to know he had someone in his corner.

He found Buffy talking with Riley and he suppressed the urge to smack him upside his big, dumb head.

“Hey, Buffy,” he said, stopping to stand between them.

Her eyebrows went up in shock. “Uh, hey yourself.”

“So, how’s the floor comin’?”

“Well, it’s-”

“It’s coming along just fine, Mr. Giles,” Riley interrupted, his face going all business-like.

Okay, so he was going to ignore that the idiot just called him ‘mister’ and he was going to be an adult. Even if his muscles were twitching to punch the guy.

“Good. I’m glad t’ hear it,” he replied calmly.

Buffy just stood and gaped at him. Apparently, his whole acting-like-an-adult plan was working. Ha! Take that!

Suddenly, Buffy’s cool hand came up and rested against his forehead as if testing his temperature. “You don’t feel hot. Are you feeling okay, Spike?”

“Fine, luv. Why?” Inwardly, he was grinning. See, he could play nice with the grown-ups.

“You aren’t acting like yourself. Are you a pod person?” She asked, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

He smirked at her. “Not that I know of. Want t’ check me over more thoroughly?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You’re playin’ with fire there, girl.

Riley cleared his throat before he could answer. “I should get back to work. It was nice seeing you again, Mr. Giles.”

After Riley walked away, Spike couldn’t resist the offensive gesture he threw in the guy’s direction.

“Aw, there’s my guy,” Buffy said, flicking him in the arm.

“What can I say? I can’t stand that bloody wanker,” he replied, then amended it quickly. “But I played nice, didn’t I?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I suppose you did. Do you want a treat now?”

Depends on what the treat is…

“How about you jus’ have dinner with me tonight?”

He had missed her company at night, having grown accustomed to eating with her. And he had to say that her eating habits were downright entertaining.

“I don’t know, Spike. That doesn’t-”

He put his hands up in defense. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

Her eyes squinted skeptically at him and she made a humming sound. “Fine. After these guys take off for the day. Sound okay?”

“Sounds brilliant, luv. Absolutely brilliant.”



******



He cooked. He cooked?

Buffy had wandered to the kitchen after the work crew had left for the day to find Spike stirring something over the stove. When he had asked her to have dinner, she had not expected him to be the one cooking it. She figured they would just get take-out like they had every night since she had been there.

“What are you doing?”

Spike jumped a little before glancing over his shoulder at her. “What does it look like I’m doin’?”

“Well, it looks like you are cooking, but I guess my real question is why,” she replied, cautiously making her way to the stove to see what he was making.

“I thought that was pretty clear. When I asked you t’ eat dinner with me, I assumed you knew there would be food involved.”

Smacking him lightly on the shoulder, she leaned over to look in the pot. “You are such a smart ass.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, luv,” he said with a smirk. “Be careful, now, or you’ll burn your cute little nose and I don’t fancy spendin’ the night in the emergency room.”

“It’s only fair; I spent the day in the ER for your drunk butt.”

“A million years will not erase that embarrassing chapter from my life,” he said, moving the pot off of the hot burner to rest on a colder one.

“Well, who’s fault is that, you big goo?”

Throwing up his hands in frustration, he replied, “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“I think barfing on my arm gives me exclusive rights to your humiliation for at least another year.”

“Jus’ don’t tell Oliver, alright? Then I’ll have him teasin’ me t’ no end as well.” Spike moved to the oven and pulled out a baking dish.

“Okay, I gotta ask, though,” she began, sitting down at the breakfast bar.

“What?”

“If you and Oliver are such good friends, then why wasn’t I calling him instead of Xander at the hospital?”

“Besides the fact that I didn’t want t’ hear him say ‘I told you so’? He was visitin’ his sister in England at the time. Really wouldn’t have done me any good all the way over there,” he told her, putting food on ugly pink china.

She had often wondered about Oliver and Spike, how they could be friends after they’d been with the same woman. Dru talked about Oliver often and Buffy had a feeling that she had tried to get back with him at some point during her marriage. But as far as she knew, Oliver had never accepted.

If she ever found out otherwise, she might have to do something horrible to the man.

A plate was set in front of her and she inhaled deeply. It smelled wonderful. Who knew he could cook?

“It’s Chicken Parmesan with Penne Pasta.”

“It looks great, Spike.” She cut a piece and placed it in her mouth. It was like heaven, practically melting on her tongue. “Oh, god. This is so good!”

He smiled at her, taking a bit of his own. “Glad you like it.”

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” She asked, continuing to eat like she had been starving.

“My mum. Made sure I could take care of myself before I left the nest,” he replied.

“Well, she did a great job.” Buffy grinned. “With the cooking at least.”

Reaching his fork out, he poked her in the hand with it. “You are a bleedin’ comedian, Summers. Ha bloody ha.”

She knew she should be questioning his sudden change in personality, but she was just so glad for them not to be fighting anymore; she decided not to bring it up. Eventually, it would come back to bite her on the ass. Until then, though, she was just going to sit back and enjoy his company.

This was the Spike she wished was around all the time. It was if they were completely at ease with each other and the last few days just kind of melted away into the background until all that was left was here and now.

“So are you excited about the tour?”

She glanced up at him. “Not as much as you are probably.”

“It’ll be fun, luv. I promise.”

“Oh, yeah. Bunches of fun. Cramped on a bus with four stinky guys and a woman whom I’ve never met, having to beat off your groupies with a stick, and how could I forget the wonderful world of highway rest stops. Joy.”

“Well, jus’ wait until you try the food. You get your choice of burger, burger, burger, orchicken McNuggets,” he told her in mock excitement.

Wonderful.

“Tell me again why I’m agreeing to this.”





A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews for the last chapter! The big tour is going to start in the next installment, so… No, no, I’m not going to spoil it. ; - )

A/N: Thanks for the great reviews, guys! Now, on with the tour!




“Have I told you lately how much I hate you?”

Buffy chuckled lightly. “No, Dawnie, you haven’t.”

“It’s totally not fair that you get to go on tour with the Dingoes. I’m their biggest fan. I should be going, not you,” Dawn pouted over the phone.

“Well, when you get out of college and decide that you just weren’t cut out to be a bio-chemist, you can be the personal assistant to a band member too.”

Throwing another pair of jeans into her suitcase, Buffy tried to calculate how much space she had left in the already overflowing bag.

“How about I just do that now?”

“Uh, how about no. You have to stay in school,” Buffy replied, switching the cordless phone from one ear to the other.

“I guess it’s a good thing that I made other plans for Christmas. You’re going to be on tour until the end of January, right?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

As the hours ticked by, Buffy felt the dread settle into the pit of her stomach. Stuck on a bus for almost two months with Spike? That was not sounding like such a good idea now that the day had come to set off on the tour.

“What are you so grumpy about? I would be like jumping for joy if I got to spend that much time with the band. Hello? How can you be around Spike and Oliver and not get the happy tinglies?” Dawn asked.

“Trust me. It’s not personal. I’m working for Spike not trying to be his number one groupie,” Buffy said, zipping up her suitcase.

“You are so weird. I can’t believe we’re related.”

“Why? Just because I’m not throwing myself at him? You have no idea how big of a pain in the ass he is. And like I’ve said before, I work for him which makes anything in the way of a personal relationship null and void.”

“Buffy, when was the last time you got some?”

“Wha-!”

“No seriously. Because if you can be in the same room with a guy as hot as Spike and not want to jump his bones, there has got to be something wrong with you.”

“I’m not having this conversation with my baby sister,” Buffy said almost more to herself than to Dawn.

“Well, maybe your equipment doesn’t work right. I mean, maybe it’s like when you don’t use your arm for a really long time and then it doesn’t work for lack of use.”

“My equipment works just fine!” Buffy shouted into the phone.

“Does it now?”

Spinning around, Buffy found Spike standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face. Just what she needed…

“Dawn, I have to go,” she told her sister.

“Hey, is that your lil’ sis?” Spike asked, walking into the room.

“Yeah?”

“Lemme talk t’ her.” He held out his hand to receive the phone.

Buffy handed him the phone and watched as he struck up a conversation with her sister. She could hear Dawn squealing on the other end. To his credit, Spike didn’t hold the phone away from his ear. He must have been used to young girls screaming at him.

The last few days had been pleasant between them, falling back into the old routine. It was as if the incident in the kitchen had never even happened and Buffy wasn’t sure if she was relieved or bothered by it. She was glad that he wasn’t pushing for more, but she was a little angry that he could forget about it so easily.

Isn’t that what you wanted him to do, though?

“Yeah, well, she can be a bit tryin’, but I like her just the same. Keepin’ me in line, she is,” Spike said, giving her a sideways glance.

Of course they would be talking about her. What else did they have in common?

“Okay, sweets, I hope I see you at the San Francisco show too. I’m givin’ the phone back t’ your sis now. Alright, you too.” Spike handed her back the phone.

“Dawn?”

“Omigod! He was so cool!”

Buffy pulled the phone away to save herself from going deaf. She’d have to ask Spike what his secret was. “Okay, I really gotta go. We have to meet the bus in an hour.”

“Oh yeah, sure. Have a fun time and call me!” And with that, Dawn’s end of the line clicked off.

“Nice girl,” Spike said, picking up her stuffed pig from the bed.

“Yeah, she’s great. A little spacey, but I love her so much,” Buffy replied, sliding her suitcase off the bed and almost falling over from its weight.

Setting the toy back on the bed, Spike moved around to grab her bag from her hands. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Don’t you have to pack too?”

“Already did.” At Buffy’s questioning glance, he added, “Not much to it. Some jeans, some shirts, some socks. I threw it together last night after dinner.”

He wasn’t at all like the other rock stars she had met and she’d met quite a few. Most of them were quite conceited and very high maintenance. Spike wasn’t like that. If anything, she found he was self-conscious of his place in the spotlight and was often a perfectionist not out of arrogance but so that he could be worthy of his fans’ praise.

And Armani suits…? Three hundred thousand dollar cars…? Only red M&M’s in his dressing room…? Totally not him at all. He preferred worn-out jeans to expensive designer duds and talked often about restoring his old Desoto instead of spending his money on a Jaguar. He wasn’t a very picky eater either. She had accidentally put pickles on his sandwich once, forgetting that he had told her how much he didn’t like them, and he ate it anyway.

Dru would have been screaming at her for the little sandwich faux pas.

All in all, Spike was probably the easiest going star in all of LA and Buffy had to thank her lucky stars that he had offered her a job even though it had gotten awkward between them. It could have been a lot worse.

She’d heard the horror stories from the other PAs she had run across on the set or at premieres. She met one on the set a year ago who said her boss had made her drive all the way to Portland to get take-out from the star’s favorite restaurant only to see it thrown out because it had gotten cold. And Liam Angelus’ personal assistant, who was now no longer working for him, was expected to find escorts for him and then had to make sure his bad behavior didn’t get into the mainstream.

So, yeah, she was glad that she was working for Spike instead of some asshole that couldn’t care less about how demeaning they made her job. And, though she couldn’t actually admit it, she considered Spike much more than just a job.



******



They pulled up beside the bus that was currently parked in one of the back lots to the Dingoes’ record company.

“Are you nervous?” Spike asked, shutting the car off.

“A little. Why? Is it that obvious?” The little crease between her eyebrows appeared and Spike felt the urge to smooth it away.

He picked up one of her hands. “You’re shakin’, luv. I’m takin’ that as a big sign that you aren’t sure about this whole thing.”

He knew she was a bit apprehensive about accompanying him on the tour, but he had done everything he could think of to reassure her that nothing bad would happen. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure why she was so nervous to begin with. It’s not like he was going to have the opportunity to try anything funny with his bandmates, manager, and driver looking over their shoulders at him.

Not that he had any plans of pushing her for more than she was willing to offer anyway. Tensions ran high on these tours, so it was the last thing on his mind to cause more drama between them.

“I’ll be okay. I guess I just don’t know what to expect and that freaks me out a little,” she replied, squeezing his hand before slipping from his grasp.

Oh, he knew that. She was somewhat of a control freak. Not in the way Dru had been though. With Buffy it was more like she stuck to what she knew and shied away from the unknown. So, instead of trying to control everyone else like Dru had, she mostly just tried to control herself.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine, I promise,” he told her.

She seemed to calm at his words and nodded in response. “Okay.”

Getting out of the car, he moved back to the trunk and started grabbing their stuff, setting it on the pavement. Oliver and Xander were walking out from behind the bus and Xander waved when he saw Buffy standing by her door.

“Hey, Buffster! Glad you could make it,” Xander said enthusiastically, jogging over to her.

“Oh, hey, Xander,” she replied, not quite as animated as Xander had been.

Oliver came over to lean against the bumper, smiling. “So, mate, how’s it going?”

“Fine,” Spike mumbled out.

Ever since he’d almost caught Spike and Buffy practically going at it in the kitchen, Oliver had been on him to fill in the details. He hadn’t told, of course, which was probably why Oliver was making it his life’s mission to dig up the dirt.

“Oh, poor, poor boy. I told you to talk to the girl and you obviously didn‘t listen to me. And now look at you. Positively miserable.”

“Whatever, you berk. I think you might be losin’ your touch there, Olie,” Spike replied picking up the bags and walking off towards the bus.

“What the bleeding hell is that supposed to mean?” Oliver asked once he had caught up to Spike.

Rolling his eyes, he threw the bags onto the bus. “It means that I did talk t’ her and for your information, we are gettin’ along just fine.” Okay, so that was a little white lie.

“Oh, you are, eh? Then why do you look like someone just kicked your Christmas puppy?”

“Because I saw you walk up and I knew you’d be on me t’ tell you all about me an’ Buffy. And I don’t want t’ talk about it since it’s really none of your business,” Spike told him.

Oliver’s bright green eyes lit up and he pointed a finger at him. “You’re not telling me something. You know this is just going to make me want to know even more.”

“Well, you are shit out o’ luck ‘cause I’m not tellin’.”

“Maybe I’ll just ask the girl myself,” Oliver announced.

Suddenly, Spike found his temper soaring and the next thing he knew he had Oliver thrown against the bus. “You had better leave her alone or I might do somethin’ stupid,” he growled.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t make any attempt to push Spike away. “Tread lightly, my friend.”

“What the hell is going on?!”

They both turned to see Anya Jenkins, the Dingoes’ manager, standing there with a not so happy expression on her face.

“God, this thing hasn’t even started and you two are already fighting!” She shouted, throwing her clipboard on the ground.

“Calm down, Anya. We’re cool. Just a little misunderstanding,” Oliver said, giving Spike a look that said it wasn’t over yet.

“Calm down? Calm down! We’re not going to make any money if you have to go onstage with black eyes and blood gushing. Girls do not find that in any way appealing,” Anya told them sternly.

“What’s going on?” Xander asked as he came to stand next to Anya, Buffy following close behind.

Anya threw her arms up in frustration. “They’re fighting! Again!”

His and Oliver’s friendship was far from perfect. They fought often. Most of the time about stupid stuff, but sometimes it did turn physical and when it did, it was usually pretty bloody. It took a lot to really get Oliver angry so Spike figured he had a natural talent for setting his best friend off in such a short amount of time. He was just born lucky in that respect.

Spike backed away from Oliver and tried to drain the adrenaline by humming the theme to Sesame Street. It was an odd way to cool off, but he had tried it all in his thirty-four years. Counting, meditation, running, deep breathing, and none of it worked. It wasn’t until he had gotten the kids show song stuck in his head one day after Xander had watched a marathon of it on television that he had found his cure.

Buffy was looking at him like he was crazy. “Are you okay, Spike?”

Spinning around at the sound of Buffy’s voice, Anya jumped towards her. “You must be Buffy! Thank god, I am not the only woman on this tour anymore. You have to help me keep them from damaging each other.”

“Uh, okay. I’ll try,” Buffy replied.

“You see, we don’t sell as much merchandise if they show up with cuts and bruises. And what are we doing this for if it’s not for the money, right? Oh, I’m Anya, by the way.” Anya held out her hand for Buffy to take.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Buffy offered her a smile as well as her hand, which Anya took and shook violently.

“Gosh, we really need to get on the road,” Anya said, glancing at her watch. “We’re just waiting for Oz. Where is he? Oz! Oz!”

After Anya had stomped off to go find the wayward bassist, Xander gave her a sheepish grin and a shrug. “Sorry about that. We’ve tried to get her to take some downers, but she won’t.”

“It’s fine. Actually, I like her,” Buffy replied.

Oliver let out a bark of laughter. “Well, it’s nice to know somebody around here does.”

Spike saw Buffy’s happy expression turn sour at Oliver’s remark. It looked like he wouldn’t be the only one fighting with Oliver on the tour. Of course, he had to put his money on Buffy if there was an altercation. After all, she was the woman who had forced him kicking and screaming to get off his sorry ass and make more out of himself than just a brooding drunk.

Shaking his head, Spike knew one thing: Oliver had no hope at all.




A/N: I just want to let everyone know that I’m not going to make Oliver out to be the bastard-guy. No, we have Liam for that. But he is a work in progress and I think Buffy will find that Spike’s not the only one who might need a helping hand. Thanks for sticking with me on this one~ Jae

A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews and I’m glad most of you are liking Oliver. I have big plans for him, so be prepared to see him more. And yes, Liam will be making an appearance. Enjoy!



“We’re goin’ to Vegas, baby!”

Buffy watched as Xander did a little happy dance in the middle of the bus.

“He seems excited,” Buffy commented as she fanned her cards.

They had been on the road for almost two hours now and in a fit of boredom, Oliver had pulled out a deck of naked lady cards and asked for poker volunteers. So now Oliver, Spike, a roadie named Frank and Buffy were deep into the game.

“That’s because Vegas is the only city he can get laid in,” Oliver remarked with a smirk.

“Hey!” Xander and Buffy exclaimed at the same time.

“What? It’s true.” Oliver shrugged without looking up from his cards.

When she had first met Oliver a couple years back at one of Dru’s Christmas parties, she had liked him almost instantly. But the more she was around him, she was beginning to wonder if her sixth sense for judging character was off. He had done nothing but bitch and insult everyone since the minute they set off on the road.

“You didn’t have to tell her that!” Xander cried, sulking off to the back of the bus.

Oliver chuckled a little and Buffy felt her temper rising with every note of his laughter.

“That wasn’t very nice,” she told him.

His black eyebrows raised and he set his cards down on the table. “Well, I’m not a very nice man, sweets.”

She gaped at him for a second, her mouth open. “No, you’re not a very nice man,” she replied, throwing her cards down. “As a matter of fact, you’re a grade A asshole.”

Glancing over at Spike, she was amazed to find him trying to hold in his laughter. At first, she thought he was laughing at her, but when their eyes met she knew he wasn’t.

“Oh, is that right? Well, I don’t think you have any room to be making judgments about people you don’t even know, sweetheart,” Oliver spat out.

“First of all, stop calling me sweets or sweetheart. I’m not your little sweetie-bear. Secondly, I don’t know what your freakin’ problem is-” she pointed a finger at him “-but get over it!”

Oliver’s intense green eyes stared at her, blinking a few times. Much to her shock, he didn’t say anything in response. He just picked his cards back up and studied them.

She gave Spike a quizzical look. What he always like this? The guy had more personalities than Dru did and that was saying a lot. Spike just shrugged and shook his head as if he was truly perplexed as well.

“I’ll take one, then,” Oliver announced as he threw one card onto the table.

“I’m out,” Buffy said, before getting up and leaving the table.

“C’mon, luv.” Spike turned sideways to face her as she sat down on the red velveteen couch next to Oz. “You don’t have t’ stop playin’.”

“I’m tired of playing games,” she replied, glaring at Oliver.

Spike pouted a little, his lower lip poking out. He always used that cute little puppy-dog pout on her and usually she gave in, but not this time. Oliver had acted like a complete ass and she didn’t have to put up with it.

When his pathetic look didn’t have its desired effect, Spike turned around and elbowed Oliver in the ribs. “See what you did?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a right git,” Oliver mumbled, fiddling with his cards.

Looking over at Oz, who had yet to say anything, she watched as he strummed his bass guitar. She couldn’t hear what he was playing since he had earphones plugged into the amp, but he was nodding his bright green-colored head along with what ever beat he was fingering out.

She tapped him on the shoulder and he glanced up at her. “Can I listen?”

He pulled the earphones off his head and placed them on hers, then went back to playing. The song was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She let her head bob from side to side with the music and she tapped her fingers on her knee.

Feeling a finger on her own shoulder, she turned to see Oz offering his guitar to her.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, handing her the instrument.

It was pretty heavy and it almost slipped from her hands, but luckily she got a good grip on it and pulled it up onto her lap before any real damage was done. Testing one of the strings, she ran her fingers up the neck. She had no idea how to play the guitar, had never even picked up an instrument until today, so she just fiddled around with the strings making random noises.

“Here,” Oz said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, grabbing her hand, and positioned her fingers over the strings. “Now, put your index finger on this string and press down.”

“Now pull with that first string with your finger. Yeah, that’s right,” he praised before showing her several more finger positions.

After an hour she could successfully play ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’ without too many mistakes. She was beaming.

“Wow, pet, I think you might be a natural at that,” Spike told her after Oz had put the guitar away.

“Nah,” she replied, “I think Oz is just a good teacher.”

“Well, he’s got the patience for it. I tried t’ teach Dru once, but I gave up after twenty minutes because she wasn’t taking it seriously.”

“Maybe you could teach me.”

His eyes got big at that. “Really? You’d like that?”

“Yeah, why not?”



******



The bright lights of Las Vegas greeted them as the bus exited the freeway and made its way to the Mandalay Bay Hotel and Casino where their concert was being held.

Spike watched Buffy staring out the windows with wide-eyed wonder. “Have you ever been here before, luv?”

“No, I’ve always wanted to, but I’ve never had the time,” she replied.

He smiled. “Well, maybe I’ll have some time t’ show you around before we leave, hmm?”

“Isn’t that a little dangerous? I mean, with you being famous and all?”

“I’ve had my fair share of scary fans, but I’ll just wear a hat an’ nobody will be the wiser.”

Normally when someone recognized him it was due to his shockingly white hair, so a while back he had gotten wise and started bringing hats everywhere he went. Most people seemed to ignore him then and even during a worst case scenario where he was stopped by someone, they tended to believe he was some sort of look-alike rather than the actual Spike.

“Somehow I have a hard time believing something as simple as putting a hat on would deter your groupies from mauling you,” she replied, her eyebrow raised.

He winced. Why did she have to keep bringing up groupies? As far as he knew no one save Oliver ever dipped into the groupie pool and it bothered him to think that she had the notion in her head that he was going to do the same.

The entire time he’d been with Dru he had never gone outside of their relationship and he hadn’t been with anyone since their break-up. He didn’t know where Buffy had gotten this groupie idea in her head, but he was determined to set her straight.

“No, he’s telling the truth. Hats really do work,” Oz offered, gathering up his guitar case as the bus pulled up to the hotel entrance.

Good man, Spike thought, fully intending to thank Oz later.

Buffy frowned as if she was going to argue but remained silent.

The bus driver opened the doors and everyone began piling out. Anya was in the lead, making her way straight to the front desk.

“Hi, the Dingoes are here for check-in,” she told the clerk.

“Okay, ma’am,” the clerk replied as she furiously began typing into her computer. “I have five suites, is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“Just give me one minute and I’ll get your room keys ready. Do you need bell service?”

“Yes.”

Hotel check-in’s were probably the only time Anya ever kept her talking to a minimum. The more she talked, the slower it would take for them to get their keys and the longer they would be sitting ducks to fans. So she usually kept to a strict ten minute rule. If the clerk failed to get it done in ten minutes, she would call for the manager.

But this clerk seemed to be on top of things and Anya was handed the room keys seconds before the bellman came to pick up their bags.

“Seven minutes flat,” Anya said walking to them as she glanced at her watch. “She’s good. Maybe we should give her a ticket for the show at a discounted price.”

“Why don’t you just give her a ticket, Anya,” Oliver replied, taking his key.

Anya shook her head in disbelief. “Give away a ticket? Are you crazy?”

“Yes,” he told her slowly. “I thought you knew that already.”

They made their way over to the elevators and went almost up to the top. Getting off, Anya directed everyone to their rooms.

“Where’s my room?” Buffy asked.

“You’re staying with Spike, aren’t you?” Anya replied, looking between Spike and Buffy.

“I am?”

Ooops. He may have forgotten to mention sharing a suite with her.

“Yeah, pet, you are.”

Anya seemed satisfied by that answer and she nodded. “Good. See you in the morning.”

Buffy watched Anya’s retreating form before turning to Spike. “I can not share a room with you, Spike.”

“Calm down, luv. There’s two beds.”

That didn’t calm her down; in fact, Spike suspected it made her even angrier. “Oh, wow, two beds,” she said sarcastically. “I’m still not sharing a room with you.”

“Fine, I’ll call the front desk and get you your own room.” He walked down the hall to his room and swiped the key.



******



Buffy was furious. The nerve of that man!

Following Spike into the room, she felt her anger drain out.

It was huge! The front portion of the room was bigger than the first floor of her house and was decorated in tropical colors. A large couch and two recliners sat in the middle of the room in front of a humongous picture window that overlooked the Strip. A bar was off in the right corner and in the other was an indoor waterfall.

Wandering over to one of the doors, she opened it to discover a large master bedroom complete with a California king and fireplace. She glanced over her shoulder and frowned when she saw two other doors on the opposite side of the suite. One had to be a bathroom, but the other… She had no idea.

Spike was playing with the phone when she asked, “Spike? What are those two doors for?”

He looked over to where she was pointing. “One’s the bathroom and the other is another bedroom.”

“Wait a minute. There are two bedrooms?”

“Yeah, I told you that.”

“No, you didn’t,” she told him. “You said there were two beds.”

“Well, there are two beds.”

Rolling her eyes, she marched over to him and grabbed the phone out of his hand, hanging it up with a loud crack.

“Hey! What are you doin’? I was-”

“I’m fine, Spike. If I’d known there were two bedrooms, I wouldn’t have asked for a room of my own,” she told him.

“But I told you there was, Buffy.”

“No you didn’t!” God, sometimes she wanted to shake him or slap him around. He was an intelligent man but so dense at times.

“So, we’re okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay.”

He grinned at her. “Wanna go play with the Jacuzzi tub?”

It was going to be a long night.











A/N: Okay, I’m taking liberties with the Mandalay Bay suites because as far as I know they don’t offer a two-bedroom suite. Creative license…gotta love it! Not a lot happened in this chapter, I know, but it was kind of a jumping point for the rest of the story. Hope you enjoyed it anyway. ~Jae

A/N: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you…for all of your continued support of this fic. You guys feed my muse and let me tell you, she is a hungry little devil. So thank you again, from the bottom of my writer’s heart. ~ Jae







Spike closed the door after the room service waiter and turned to face Buffy and the mountain of food they had ordered.

“Maybe we should invite the guys over here to help eat all this,” Buffy suggested, lifting the cover on one of the plates.

No, he didn’t want them over. He didn’t want to share. Finally alone, all he wanted was to have Buffy to himself without having to share her attention with anyone else.

When Oz had started teaching Buffy how to play his guitar, Spike’s first reaction was dark green jealousy. It was a stupid emotion that had really no basis to it. Out of all of his bandmates, Oz was the least likely to try anything with Buffy. Hell, he’d sooner believe Anya was hitting on Buffy than Oz.

It took him a while, but Spike had finally calmed the envy monster within him. He didn’t like watching her with other men even if it was nothing more than a friendly conversation.

But from Oz he had nothing to fear. When he was with Dru, he and Oz were the only two members of the Dingoes that were in committed relationships. It was nice having another guy around who wasn’t pressuring him to sleep with his fans like Oliver and Xander had. In fact, some of his best times were hanging out with Oz and talking about their women.

Oz and his girlfriend Willow had been together since high school and even though they were very dedicated to one another, neither of them wanted to get married. Spike supposed it was a smart move. Most marriages were ending in divorce these days and if Oz was comfortable with the arrangement he and Willow had, there wasn’t a point in fixing that which wasn’t broken.

He only wished he could find that type of relationship. For a long time, he thought he’d had that with Dru, but now that he was on the outside looking in he knew that it had never been that way. Total trust and loyalty were not things that Dru excelled in.

“I think we’ll be able t’ eat this ourselves,” Spike replied when he found Buffy still waiting for him to respond.

“Spike, a whole army couldn’t eat all this. We should just invite them over because I’m sure they are as hungry as we are.”

Spike shook his head. She wasn’t going to let this go, but he wasn’t going to concede either. “Luv, I’ve just spent six and half hours with those blokes, I don’t really feel like havin’ them over.”

“You’ve spent longer than six hours cramped on that bus with them before and you didn’t have this problem,” she replied, her brow furrowed.

“It’s different now.”

It was very different now. The tension was tight between them where as before it had been all fun and games. He had let them down and while none of them seemed to want to talk about it, it was quite obvious that they were angry with him. Not that he blamed them.

Buffy didn’t press for more information nor did she mention inviting over the others again. Soon, they were eating in an uncomfortable silence that Spike had come to recognize and loathe at the same time.

“So what happens tomorrow?” Buffy asked after taking a drink of her iced tea.

“Well, we usually do our sound check in the morning and then once we’ve got everything set up, we can go sight seein’ a bit. On some of the bigger venues we have t’ do promotional stuff for radio stations, but this one is small enough that we don’t have anything scheduled.”

They were playing at the House of Blues rather than Mandalay’s huge auditorium and Spike was grateful they were starting off slow. He hadn’t been on the road for months now and honestly, he was a little nervous to get back on stage.

She was staring down at her plate with a frown.

“What’s wrong, pet?”

With a sigh, she replied, “I’m useless.”

“What are you talkin’ about? You’re not useless,” Spike told her, a little confused at the turn in conversation.

“Yes, I am.” She looked up at him, her green eyes full of direct honesty. “I am supposed to be your personal assistant and I’m doing nothing to personally assist you. I have no idea how this whole tour thing works and Anya seems to be doing all of the work. Why am I even here?”

Okay, so explaining why she was really there with him was going to be tricky. He needed her there to keep him together, knowing full well that she wouldn’t let him just throw his hands up and give up like he wanted to some days. That was the real reason. But that wasn’t very comparable to her job description, at least not the one she had made up for herself, and telling her that she was just there for moral support probably wasn’t very conducive to her worries.

“The tour has just gotten started, luv, wasn’t much t’ assist me with,” he said, and then paused before his eyebrows went up. “Hey, you got me t’ the bus on time. That’s a feat in itself since you know I’m never on time for anything.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Look, I’ll tell you what. I’ll have Anya give you the schedule and you can be in charge of makin’ sure I’m where I’m supposed t’ be.” He grinned. “Besides, I’d rather have you crackin’ the whip on me than her.”




******




The image of her standing in a black leather bustier and thigh-high boots, whipping Spike’s naked ass as he was strung up spread-eagle, had her shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

Wow! Where the hell had that come from?

Maybe it was all of the testosterone she had been exposed to earlier that was making her have extremely naughty thoughts. Thoughts that included taking Spike up on his offer to play with the Jacuzzi tub. Or rather in the Jacuzzi tub preferably while they were both naked.

“Is that okay, Buffy?”

His voice slapped her back into reality. “Oh, yeah. That would be great.”

He tilted his head and gave her a thoughtful look. “What’s goin’ through that head of yours, kitten?”

“Nothing,” she said a bit too quick to be believable.

“Riiight. You were thinkin’ something. I could see it on your face,” he replied.

Time to think fast, Buffy.

“Uh, I was thinking about…uh, Oliver?” Way to go, dork!

Spike didn’t seem terribly happy about her response. “What about ‘im?”

“Well, is he always such an asshole?”

That appeared to make Spike calm down a little. What did he think she was going to say?

“Not usually, no. He was acting really strange today,” Spike told her.

“Speaking of strange, why were you guys fighting?” She had been meaning to ask, but hadn’t found the right time.

“He wanted to talk and I didn’t,” he responded cryptically.

She wondered if they were fighting about Dru. Maybe Oliver had wanted to talk about her but Spike didn’t want to. That made a lot of sense since Spike never wanted to talk about Dru and if Oliver pushed him enough, Spike might’ve gotten angry.

“Maybe you should talk about her. It might help.”

“Huh? Talk about who?”

“Dru.”

His eyebrows went up. “Not much t’ talk about that you don’t already know, luv.”

“I don’t know it all. I mean, not from your side, I don’t.”

“She talked about me with you?”

Stupid Buffy! She really didn’t want to tell him the kinds of things Dru had said about him. It was too embarrassing not only for him but for her to say as well.

“Well, yeah, a little.”

“What did she say?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, Spike. I really don’t feel right about telling you.”

A solemn expression darkened his features and he looked up at her through his eyelashes. “Did you know she was going t’ leave me?”

“No! I swear, I didn’t,” Buffy said, hoping he believed her. “As far as I knew, she was going to try and make it work with you.”

“So you knew about the others, then. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I mean, you went everywhere with her.”

God, why did she have to bring up Dru? Maybe it had been a good thing that he never wanted to talk about her. He had seemed much happier ignoring his feelings about Dru.

“Spike…”

His head moved from side to side very slowly, his gaze attached to his boots. “Everyone fuckin’ knew, didn’t they? I was a soddin’ joke t’ the lot of them. Oh, poor little Spike, can’t keep his woman from lookin’ elsewhere. Must be a sad piece o’ work that one.

“I tried, you know. I tried t’ make ‘er happy, but she was always fightin’ me. I gave ‘er everything I had an’ it wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough.”

He was breaking her heart and when he began to sob softly, she wanted to cry too.

Standing up, she walked around to his chair and sat down on the armrest of it, her arm wrapping around his shaking shoulders. She stroked his blond curls and kissed the top of his head, watching as his arms circled her waist and he buried his face in her breasts.

He was such a broken man.

Slowly, she let herself slide down into the chair so that she was straddling his lap. It was wrong and she kept trying to remind herself that she wasn’t supposed to be this close to him, but when she tilted his chin up and looked into stormy blue eyes, she couldn’t stop herself.

Leaning down, she took his lower lip into her mouth and suckled on it. Her hand came up to caress his cheek, her thumb brushing the corner of his mouth as she let her tongue come out to sweep across his lips.

He was clinging to her, his hands grabbing handfuls of her shirt. A needful moan escaped him and her tongue dove into his mouth. He tasted so good and so purely male that she almost forgot all about making him feel better and more about how good he was making her feel.

“I need t’ touch you, baby. Please,” he moaned into her mouth, his hands sliding under her shirt to stroke her smooth back.

She knew that she should stop, that if they went any further there would be nothing but problems. But when he pleaded with her again to let him touch her, she threw caution to the wind and leaned back.

“Okay,” she told him breathlessly.

His eyes were midnight blue with lust and he let his hand wander from her back to her breast, cupping it and letting its weight rest in his palm. A breath caught in his lungs as he stared up at her in awe.

Her eyes closed at the sensation of his hands on her, his fingers coming to pinch her nipples slightly. The wetness between her legs began to pool as he moved to take her t-shirt off.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as his hands once more found her breasts.

He leaned forward and she could feel his hot breath on her. His tongue came out to lash against one lace-covered nipple and Buffy threw her head back. God, she had always wondered about what he could do with that tongue of his and now she was beginning to get an idea of just how talented he was.

His mouth covered her breast, soaking the material of her bra. She felt her hips start to move on their own volition against his straining erection. The friction it caused only sent more shockwaves through her body as he continued to make love to her breasts.

“Spike!” She cried as his own hips lifted to increase the pressure between them, grinding himself upward into her hot, wet denim-covered center.

The strap of her bra slipped down her shoulder and Spike used it as an opportunity to move the cup of lace out of his way so that she was bare to him. His hot tongue wrapped itself around the little pink nub and he sucked on it making it harden to the point of delicious pain.

A hand slid down her side and down to the front of her jeans to rest against her throbbing pussy. He grabbed her, the heel of his hand pressing down hard on her clit, and Buffy saw stars as her orgasm hit her with the force of a Mack truck slamming into a brick wall at high speed.

“Ahhhh!” She wailed, her hips continuing to move against him as she rode wave after wave of her completion.

He was breathing hard against her shoulder as he held her tightly while she came down from her orgasm. “So fucking beautiful,” he panted out.

Looking up into his eyes, she realized with a start that he was completely gone, lost in the lust that was consuming him. She didn’t think she had ever seen a man so aroused before.

Now that her sanity had returned, she knew she should stop before the got to the actual deed. But she couldn’t leave him like this either. His muscles were tight from the strain of his arousal and he looked like he was in pain.

That was why when she got off of his lap and kneeled before him, she effectively shut off her nagging internal voice. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to leave him without release especially after he had given her so much pleasure, right?

She reached up behind his knees and pulled him closer to her, then let her hand drift upwards to his belt buckle.



******



Spike was gone. There was nothing left in his head but Buffy and the way she had looked as he made her come.

He felt feverous, cold shivers running up and down his body as his skin burned.

There was still enough blood left in his brain to realize Buffy was moving off of him and tugging at his belt. Oh, god, he needed her so bad. He lifted his hips at her gentle pulling at his waistband and watched in a passion-drunk haze as she yanked his jeans down to his knees.

“Well, hello,” she said saucily as her eyebrow arched upwards.

At her complete mercy, Spike could only watch as her hands dragged themselves up his thighs, her fingernails scratching his skin. A fingertip made the slow and very torturous path from the base of his cock all the way up to the tip, swirling around in the clear liquid that had managed to escape.

He gave a strangled cry as her hand came to curl around him and start to move in leisurely strokes up and down his hard length.

“Do you like that?” Buffy asked in a deep sex-kitten purr.

His eyes squeezed shut as she moved quicker then cupped his balls with her other hand. “Unh, yes. God, yes!” He replied through his teeth, his jaw clenching tightly.

Her hand started to slow and Spike wanted to protest, but before he could say anything he felt the warm, wet cavern of her mouth around him. Her tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft, licking back and forth rapidly.

“Fuck!” He growled as he suddenly shot his seed into her mouth without warning. His hips jerked wildly as his hand held the back of her head in place, emptying himself down her throat.

It wasn’t until he came to that he realized what he’d done. He looked down at Buffy kneeling before him. Her hand was covering her mouth as if she was surprised, but Spike noted that she didn’t look angry like he had thought she might be.

Dru hadn’t liked going down on him so he’d been without for a couple years now. When he had felt Buffy’s mouth on him, he’d lost it. Knowing she didn’t really like surprises, Spike thought for sure that she would be furious ‘cause that was some surprise he had just given her.

“I’m sorry, luv. I would’ve warned you if-”

“No. No, its okay,” she told him, her fingertips still touching her lips. “You just surprised me, is all.”

“You’re not angry?”

She shook her head, biting her lower lip.

Taking that as a sign, he grinned. He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, tasting himself on her mouth. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth and in a move that had him soaring, Buffy sucked it into her mouth, teasing him with the tip of her own.

“God, luv,” he breathed out as his forehead came to rest against hers. “You are bloody fantastic, you know.”

She didn’t say anything and Spike started to panic a little. He didn’t think he could handle it if she rejected him again. Not after what they shared. For her to tell him it meant nothing…

He took a sharp breath. “Please don’t tell me that you are gonna ignore this. Don’t tell me it didn’t mean anything, Buffy.”

Her forest-deep eyes stared up at him, wide with candor. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

The stupid romanticized part of him was jumping for joy when he heard her admission. However, the man who was no longer a naïve little boy knew that there was more to it.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ there, luv.”

A deep breath filled her lungs and she nodded. “But we need to take it slow. I-” Her voice cut off as she tried to capture the thought that was eluding her. “It’s been a long time for me and you are still trying to work through your feelings about Dru. I don’t think we should rush into this.”

She was right. Today had been proof that he wasn’t over the hurt Dru had caused him and he knew her well enough to believe that she hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. Of course, he didn’t give a damn about waiting. He wanted her now, every single inch of her beautiful mind, body, and soul.

But he would do as she requested. She was giving him a chance and if he had to wait in order to finally have her, he would do it.

“Okay, pet. We’ll do it your way.”








A/N: Well…? What’d you all think?

A/N: Wow! Holy cow! Lots and lots of reviews on that last one. I’m glad you all enjoyed…I know I enjoyed writing it. ::blushes:: Thankies to all my faithful reviewers and readers (even you lurkers…). And now….










The sun was shining brightly through the large window and Spike began to stir at the feeling of its warm rays heating his naked body. Stretching his muscles, he yawned and opened his eyes.

He hadn’t slept so good in months, possibly even years, and for the first time in forever, he felt truly rested. And yet, he was all alone.

Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair and wished Buffy had come to bed with him last night after their mind-blowing sexual encounter. There was nothing he would have loved more than to wake up with her wrapped around his body, her scent covering his sheets.

But she hadn’t. They hadn’t even really discussed it since she had made it very clear that she wanted to take things slow and he had agreed to her terms. And going slow would not include sharing a bed, at least not any time soon.

God, just thinking about her and what they’d done was making him hard as hell. His eyes closed as he leaned back on the mountain of soft pillows and pulled the sheet off of his hips. A hand trailed down his chest and grasped his hard cock in a firm grip.

He imagined it was her. Her soft fingertips swirling around the tip and spreading the warm fluid that had collected, her small hand sliding down the length of him, a finger pressing hard against the undershaft that sent him a strong jolt of pleasure.

“Buffy…” His voice was thick with unspent passion and the image of her straddling him, guiding him to her, popped into his mind, almost making him explode.

His palm was wet and warm and it didn’t take a lot of imagination to make believe it was her tight quim sliding up and down his shaft, squeezing him and pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

He remembered her smell, the sweet tangy scent of her arousal mixed with the fragrant smell of blooming jasmine. Her skin was hot and flushed as he touched her and tasted her. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to taste her true sweetness, to bury his nose in her delicious pussy and-

“Oh, fuck me!” He cried out as he came into his hand, drops of hot seed falling onto his tightly-muscled stomach.

Just as he was starting to collect his mind, the door crashed open to find Buffy breathing hard and glancing wildly around the room.

“Spike? Are you okay? I heard-” Suddenly, her voice halted as she took in the sight of him and her eyes widened comically.

“Well, good morning t’ you too, luv,” he said, smirking at her reaction.

She blinked. “Uh, I, uh, heard you y-yelling and I…was worried.”

Spike didn’t make any move to cover himself up. It’s not like she hadn’t seen it before especially after last night when she was eye-level to it. And besides, he liked showing her just how much she affected him.

“I’m fine, as you can see.” His hand motioned to his now spent cock and took pleasure at hearing her gasp. “I don’t suppose you’d like t’ join me, hmm, pet?”

Her mouth set itself into a frown. “You told me we could take things slow, Spike.”

What the hell did that even mean? They had already touched each other, brought each other off, just how slow was she talking here?

“And we will,” Spike replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. “But what could be the harm in comin’ over here and lettin’ me touch you?”

“Because that’s too fast for me.”

Spike threw his hands up. “Christ, Buffy! If that’s too fast, then what the bleedin’ hell were we doin’ last night?”

“I…”

She trailed off and Spike let out a groan of frustration before pushing himself to the edge of the bed and standing up. He wrapped the sheet around his lean hips and stalked over to her.

“I’m not real good with subtle, Buffy, so you might want t’ spell it out for me. What was last night? And if I can’t touch you, then what can I do?” He asked, his face mere inches away from hers.

“Last night, I felt bad for-”

“Stop!” He yelled, backing her up against the wall. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me that whole thing was because you felt sorry for me! I didn’t need your soddin’ pity!”

Her hands came up and pushed on his chest, effectively knocking him back a few feet. “It wasn’t pity! I felt bad for you and I did the only thing I could think of that would make you feel better, okay? You were hurting and I just wanted to help.”

“Bloody selfless act. Should give the girl a bleedin’ medal for her noble sacrifice,” he spat out, hurt that what he thought had been something special between them was nothing more than an attempt to pacify him.

“Goddamn it, Spike! That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean since I seem t’ be so dense?”

“I wanted to make you feel better. To show you that there was someone who cared about you,” she told him, her voice getting watery.

He went silent at that. Did she mean it the way it came out? Because to him, it sounded almost like an admission of her feelings for him.

“And…and I know that I’m just confusing you, but I’m not trying to play with your head. I wanted you last night. I did. But, it’s too fast for me to have a whole sexual relationship with you.”

“If we don’t have that, then what do we have?”

“Each other.”



******



Buffy stared down at the day’s itinerary. The band was meeting at ten for set-up and sound check, after that all they had scheduled was an hour for promotional photos for the casino before the show started at eight o’clock. Not too much to it, unfortunately.

Looking up at the sound of the door opening, she saw Spike walking towards her. Now fully dressed, he wore light blue jeans that had a rip in the knee and a faded black t-shirt with a Social Distortion logo on the front of it. His hair was damp and sitting in curls on the top of his head, the color still two-toned because he hadn’t bleached it yet.

He sat down in the armchair across from her and watched as she poured herself some more coffee.

“Do you want some?” She asked, lifting the carafe up in an offering.

“Sure, luv.”

The uncomfortable silence had returned and Buffy wished the events of the whole morning would just disappear. He was always pushing her into saying something really foolish, this morning being no exception. She knew that she should just ignore his baiting, but somehow she fell for it every time.

She poured his coffee and a generous amount of cream before stirring in four spoonfuls of sugar and handing it to him. He stared at it for a long time while he held the mug in his hand.

“You know how I like my coffee.”

Her mouth opened to say something, but she shut it when she felt the thick sarcasm that was itching to come out. “Yes,” she said carefully, purposely leaving off the part about it being her job to know.

“Is it just part of the job or is it something more?”

If she were honest with herself, she would have to say that it had never been just a job with Spike. But of course, she had spent so much time trying to deny that she felt anything for him that the truth was hard to swallow.

“Something more.”

Their eyes met and Buffy felt electrifying shivers run up and down her body. He probably had no idea the things that he made her feel. Feelings that she had never felt before him with anyone.

“Alright, then. What do I do?” He asked abruptly, setting his cup down on the table.

Huh?

“What do you mean? Do what?”

He smiled. “You know, you…me…us? How do we do this?”

Shaking her head, she let out a short, muffled laugh. Why she had ever thought he’d let her drop the subject of their relationship was a mystery. She knew it would come up again, she just hadn’t been expecting it so soon.

“I guess we could start by dating,” she said.

“Dating,” he repeated slowly as if he were testing the word on his tongue. “Okay. So like dinner an’ a movie, right?”

“Yeah, that would be an acceptable date activity, I guess.”

“You do realize, though,” he began as he tilted his head. “That might be difficult t’ do when we’re stuck on a bus for the next couple o’ months.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously. But there’s other stuff we can do.”

“You’re not trying t’ get out of this, are you?”

“No, Spike, I’m not.”

“That’s good because I was hoping we could have our first date today,” he told her, a hopeful expression on his face.

“Today?”

“Yeah, today. Thought I might show you that hats really do work and give you a walkin’ tour of the strip. Maybe get some lunch?”

She nodded, tentatively at first, then with more confidence. “Okay. Sounds good, let’s do it.



******



The instruments and equipment were already set up by the time Spike and Buffy showed up at the House of Blues.

Oliver watched with quiet curiosity as his best friend smiled easily and greeted everyone. He hadn’t seen Spike this happy in a long time and he had to wonder what’d happened between him and Buffy to improve his mood so much.

If he were anyone else, he would have naturally assumed that they had finally shagged. But he wasn’t anyone else and he knew Buffy wouldn’t have just jumped in the sack with Spike no matter how much sexual tension had been built up between them. She was too cautious to let herself go completely.

They were an odd pair to be sure. Almost exact opposites, but Oliver had a feeling that deep down they both wanted the same thing. It was just the obstacle of all of their baggage that they had to climb over that was making it difficult for them to realize it.

Whether Buffy knew it or not, and he seriously believed it was the latter of the two, he knew a lot about her. Dru talked about her all the time when they were together. Buffy this and Buffy that. If the girl hadn’t been so interesting, he probably would have gagged Dru to shut her up.

“Did you wake up on the right side of the bed this morning or am I going t’ have t’ slap you around today?” Spike asked as he came to stand next to Oliver.

Oliver shrugged. He knew he had been a bit of an ass the day before, but he really hadn’t intended to piss the girl off so bad. He wasn’t used to having a woman, other than Anya, around so he honestly didn’t pay any attention to what he was saying until she had gotten angry at him.

“I think I can manage to keep my foot out of my mouth today,” Oliver replied.

“That’s good, ‘cause I really didn’t feel like whippin’ your ass anyway.”

“Like you could, you bloody wanker.” Oliver smirked at him.

“You better believe it,” Spike retorted, slugging him in the shoulder.

Buffy was glaring at him and Oliver waved at her. He really didn’t need her hating him. No, that wouldn’t do. There would have to be a real effort made on his part to curb his naturally abrasive personality and make the girl like him.

Watching her saunter over, he almost wished that Spike didn’t already have a claim on her. She was a fiery little thing and that made her almost irresistible. Almost.

“Which Oliver will I be speaking to? ‘Cause I never can seem to tell which twin you are,” she said, sparks flying from her hazel-green eyes.

“The good one, I think,” he replied.

“Finally. I was beginning to wonder if I had misjudged you.”

“Nah, what you see is pretty much what you get with me,” he told her, and then at her look of disbelief, he gave her a sheepish grin. “Well, most of the time.”

She turned to Spike and asked, “So when does the sound check start?”

Spike glanced over his shoulder at the stage, then at the audio technicians. “Any minute, just waitin’ for the all clear that they’ve got everything hooked up properly.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll go talk to Anya and see if she needs me to do anything while we wait,” she said.

Oliver could see that Spike wanted to say something, but he was hesitating. He nudged Spike in the ribs and nodded to Buffy with his head. Come on, you git. Just spit it out before you miss your chance.

Spike looked over at him for guidance before turning back to her. “Can I kiss you, luv?”

Ah, no wonder he was nervous.

She didn’t look very receptive to the idea. In fact, she looked a little angry and Oliver decided he should step in before things got too ugly.

“Go on, sweets. We’re all family here and I promise I won’t peek,” he told her, covering his eyes with his hands.

“What is this? A conspiracy?” He heard her ask.

Oliver shook his head and rolled his eyes, though no one could see that. “Just kiss the bloke and put us out of our misery already.”

There was silence and contrary to his promise, Oliver did peek. It wasn’t anything over PG-13, but at least she didn’t shame him by giving Spike a peck on the cheek. That was like the Kiss of Death to any man.

“See, that wasn’t too hard,” Oliver commented once the couple had broken apart.

If he hadn’t thought Buffy was suspicious of him before, he sure did now. The look she was giving him told him she wasn’t happy that he was butting in and moreover, she had distrust in her eyes. It had always been there, he realized and he wondered why his talent for charm wasn’t working on her.

Of course, she was a smart girl…and he did have something to hide, but that was beside the point.










A/N: A little angst…a little mystery…and of course, naked Spike. Hope I didn’t disappoint. ; - ) ~Jae

A/N: I really enjoyed your comments on the last chapter, especially the ones that were about Oliver. As a fanfic writer, you always have to be cautious about original characters because they can take over the entire fic instead of add to it. And then, of course, there is always the dreaded Mary Sue…::shudders::

So I’m glad you are liking (well, some of you are liking) Oliver. ; - ) Enjoy! ~Jae









“You ready t’ go, luv?”

Buffy looked up from her paperwork to see Spike standing over her with a black baseball cap in his hands.

“Are you done already? We haven’t even been down here an hour,” she replied, glancing at her watch.

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Been doin’ this for a couple o’ years, pet, think we got it down to an exact science by now.”

More than a couple of years by her calculations. Their first album came out in 1999 and they had been touring ever since. How long had that been? Seven years…

That was the same year her mother had died, leaving Dawn in the care of a nineteen year old Buffy who didn’t know jack about raising a little girl. But they had managed and Dawn had turned out to be a normal, well-adjusted young woman despite how rocky those first years had been.

“Did I lose you?”

Buffy blinked back to reality. “No, no, I was just thinking.”

“Anything you wanna talk about?”

“No, but thanks anyway,” she replied, giving him a smile.

He frowned and she could tell he was disappointed. There were many times when he had tried to get her to talk about her life, but she would normally just change the subject. She honestly didn’t know what he found so fascinating about it. She was just a small town girl with small aspirations. Not much to say.

“So, do you still want to go?” He asked, a look of worry on his face.

“Of course, I do.”

Giving her a big smile, he threw the hat on and offered his hand to help her up. “Let’s do this then.”



******



It was hot outside, the desert sun burning down on the city, its rays being soaked up by the black street of The Strip. He was used to the warm weather since Los Angeles never dipped below 68°, but it was odd to see people wearing shorts and tank tops in the beginning of December.

Spike glanced over at Buffy, who was walking next to him and couldn’t contain his look of awe. She was beautiful, like sunshine and glowing perfection. Her bronzed skin shimmered in the sun and her hair sparkled as the rays reflected off of its golden strands.

Absolutely the opposite of Dru and Spike found that he preferred Buffy’s California Girl to Dru’s Queen of the Damned. There was a time when Dru’s dark features and pale skin were his ideal, but not anymore. Now all he could see was light and gold.

“You’re beautiful.”

Buffy turned to look at him. “Not really.”

He rolled his eyes. Why did women always do that? Couldn’t they just take the compliment instead of arguing about it?

“So, the hat’s workin’. Think you owe me an apology for not believin’ me,” he said.

“Whatever! We’ve only been out here for like twenty minutes. Maybe everyone on this end of the strip isn’t a fan and therefore wouldn’t know who you were even without the damn hat,” she retorted, her arms crossing.

“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m right.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Kiss me.”

Suddenly, she stopped walking and gaped at him. “W-What?”

“I said, kiss me.”

“H-Here? Just on the street where everyone can see us? Are you nuts?”

Sighing, he stepped closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong with doin’ it right here? I don’t have anythin’ to hide, luv. Besides, I’m wearin’ the magic hat; no one will even know you’re kissin’ me.”

“Don’t you think we should try and keep it quiet until after your divorce is final?”

“Buffy, I don’t care about the divorce or what anyone will think if you an’ I are together. And I don’t want to wait to be with you.”

“She could use it against you.”

He laughed humorlessly. “How? She’s the one who was bangin’ other guys while I waited at home for her. And we’re legally separated so how could you an’ I ever be brought up in the divorce?”

“But she could. You know her as well as I do.”

“Why the hell are we fightin’ about this? If you don’t want t’ kiss me, just bloody say it and stop makin’ excuses!” He threw his hands up, completely frustrated that she wouldn’t give him a straight answer.

She was quiet for a long time after that. What she was thinking, he had no clue.

“I do want to,” she finally whispered, not looking at him.

Putting a hand under her chin, he tilted it upwards so she could see his sincerity. “What are you so afraid of then? Me?”

“Yes.”

He opened his mouth to ask her why, but she silenced him with her fingers on his lips.

“Not just you. It’s me too. I can’t stop what I’m feeling and what I’m feeling scares me to death.”

Oh, that feeling. He knew that one well. It was like leaping off the tallest building and feeling free, but then the panic sets in when you realize you’ve just took a nosedive off a bloody skyscraper and are about to hit the pavement hard.

That was how he had felt when he was falling in love with Dru so many years ago. And it was the same feeling he was having now with Buffy. But he couldn’t tell her that. Knowing her, she’d probably freak out and tell him it was too soon.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, luv. You don’t have t’ be scared of me,” he told her, picking up one of her hands and stroking it.

Buffy looked down at their hands before returning to his face. She closed the gap between them and let her lips brush against his.

God, she was sweet and so soft. He dropped her hand and wrapped one arm around her waist, bringing her body flush with his. His lips parted so that his tongue could come out to tease hers apart. She didn’t resist and he deepened the kiss.

This was what it was supposed to feel like. Good and pure. Not tainted by distrust and betrayal. Nothing had ever felt so right to him as kissing Buffy did.

Of course, if he didn’t get a hold of himself, kissing her was going to turn into a huge problem. They were in the middle of the walkway while hundreds of people passed by and here he was sporting an erection that had been caused by just kissing his girl. He felt ridiculous, like a bloody schoolboy who just gotten his first hard-on.

Pulling back, his breath coming in short pants, he said, “Buffy, baby. Gotta slow down.”

Her eyes were glazed over and he realized she probably was just as aroused as he was. Well, shit, that just made it worse. Thinking about how he affected her had him growing harder to the point of pain and he had to try hard not to fold under the pressure.

“What? Why? Now?”

He chuckled a little. “All good questions, luv, but right now all you gotta worry about is helpin’ me hide my little- well, not little- problem here.”

That snapped her back to him and she glanced down to the front of his jeans. “Oh. I’m sorry, Spike.”

“For what? I’m pretty sure I enjoyed every second of that.”

A pink blush spread across her cheeks and Spike wondered how a woman like her could get so easily embarrassed. She was all attitude and strength yet here she was, acting like he was her first kiss.

“I did, too.”



******



They had decided to scrap the day out on the town when a strong gust of wind ripped off Spike’s hat. Within moments, he was bombarded with fans wanting autographs and pictures all the while dealing with a stubborn erection that just would not go away.

Now they were stretched out on his bed with a picnic supplied by the good room service people of Mandalay Bay and laughing hysterically over one of his tour stories.

“So Oliver thinks he’s gonna be all cool an’ he jumps off the platform, but his jeans got caught on a nail or something and he goes tumblin’ down, naked as the day he was born. An’ the crowd’s cheering and he kinda hops back onto his feet, gives ’em a salute and finishes the song starkers.”

Buffy covered her mouth to try and keep the giggles from erupting. “No! No, he didn’t!”

“Oh, yes, he did!” Spike told her, popping a Cheeto into his mouth. “Of course, that ended all of the rumors that he was hung like a horse. It was bleedin’ cold in that stadium.”

“There was a rumor about you, too, you know,” Buffy replied before she had a chance to catch what she was saying.

“That I was hung like a horse?”

She shook her head. “No, not that.”

A dark eyebrow arched and he leaned forward onto his elbows. “Oh? Do tell, luv. I’m curious now.”

“Well, I heard that you could, you know, do it for hours. Like Sting.” Oh God, she was going to die from mortification!

“What makes you think that was just a rumor?”

Uh.

Was he admitting to…? Hours?

“I don’t think it was hours last night,” she said, staring down at her sandwich.

When he didn’t say anything, she looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed and she couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or…well, she wasn’t sure what else he could be.

“I hadn’t meant t’ do that,” Spike replied finally.

“What?”

“Come so fast.”

Her eyebrows went up. Was he embarrassed that he hadn’t lasted very long? ‘Cause from where she stood, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He had lasted as long as any of her other boyfriends had.

“I wanted you to. It was your turn.”

His brows wrinkled together. “My turn? You make it sound as if we were playing on the swings or something.”

“Well, it was your turn. You made me feel so good and I wanted to make you feel good, too,” she told him.

His expression softened a bit at that. “I did, luv. What you did was incredible. I just wish I could’ve made it last longer, is all.”

They ate in silence for a while. Buffy wanted to get off the topic of sex as quickly as possible, so she flicked the television on and played with channels until she found MTV. Some mindless music videos would do the trick.

“We toured with them last year,” Spike said, pointing to the screen.

She recognized the band. Shy was pretty popular with the college crowd. Well, mostly the male college crowd. The band’s lead singer, Veruca, was trying for the Sex Kitten of the Year award apparently, posing in Playboy and Maxim and any other magazine that would let her get away with being nude.

Personally, Buffy didn’t get what the buzz was all about. She looked like any other rock chick.

“And how was that?” Buffy asked, taking a sip of her Diet Coke.

Spike shrugged. “Veruca spent the entire time trying to get Oz in the sack. Didn’t work, though, and I think she settled for Oliver in the end.”

“Is Oliver like a slut or something? That’s all I ever hear about him. That he slept with some chick.”

“Of course, he is,” Spike replied with a chuckle. “He’ll be the first t’ tell you how much he enjoys women.”

“Yeah, well, enjoying women and screwing anything with tits are two completely different things.”

Sitting up, Spike scooted over to her. “Do I sense a little hostility against ol’ Olie there, luv?”

“No, it’s just, why does he have to use them like that?”

He grinned and leaned back. “Who says he’s using them? They are the ones who come up t’ him and offer up their bodies like sacrificial lambs.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know that he’s just going to fuck them then ditch them for the next groupie.”

“Bullshit, luv,” he told her. “Most of those girls know that when they jump into a rockstar’s bed, they aren’t likely t’ find much more than a wild ride. Don’t make them out t’ be so naïve. They know exactly what they are doin’.”

“Is that what they thought about you, too?”




******



Spike stared at her with shock.

Was she on this again? Bloody hell, once the girl got something into her head, she didn’t want to let it go.

“I’ve never been with one of my fans, Buffy.”

“Right. You’re telling me you’ve never took one of those girls to bed with you? How gullible do you think I am?”

“No, I never have and I never will. I don’t know why you keep on insisting that I have an interest in those women. And I don’t think you’re gullible, just out of your bleedin’ skull,” he retorted, pointing to his temple and twisting his finger around.

“But it isn’t logical. You are surrounded by beautiful females who want nothing but to sleep with you, why wouldn’t you want to be with them?” She asked, her tone less accusing and more curious.

Spike sighed loudly. “You already know the answer t’ that. I was with Dru, why would I want t’ go be with some chit that meant nothing t’ me? And now I’m with you. There is no one I’d rather have in my bed than you, luv. No one.”

“But Oliver-”

“Oliver prefers no strings. He and I are nothin’ alike,” he replied, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into his lap. “I want strings, luv, bloody chains to hold me t’ you.”

“So you never-”

“No. I was faithful t’ Dru even after the ship started sinkin’. And now that I’m with you, I intend t’ be just as faithful. I wish you would just trust me.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him quickly. “I do trust you, it’s just that-”

“I’m not like them.” At her expression, he knew that his hunch had paid off. She had been hurt by someone before, someone who wasn’t true to her. It pissed him off to think about her being with another man, but it practically sent him into a blind rage when he thought some asshole might have hurt her.

Sometimes men were soddin’ idiots. He should know since he was one of them. But he would never be that guy, the one that would hurt her. Nope, if anyone was going to get hurt out of this relationship, it most likely would be him. After all, he was love’s bitch and he tended to fall hard.

Devil Sees Red Tour~ Las Vegas



The crowd outside was going wild, stomping their feet and clapping their hands, screaming. It was sweltering in the House of Blues with the bright stage lights and people packed tight in front of the stage as they awaited the Dingoes to begin the show.

Buffy hadn’t ever been to a concert. Well, unless you counted the Tiffany Mall Tour way back when. It amazed her the energy that seemed to be radiating off the fans, feeding the collective group.

Glancing at her watch, she noted that it was still fifteen minutes to show time. She couldn’t wait to see Spike up on stage. After that day he had called his band over to practice, she had been looking forward to a real perfomance.

She hadn’t seen him since the photo shoot. Anya had ushered her off to help with the merchandising table before they were finished. There hadn’t even been time to wish him good luck.

“Buffy!”

She swung around suddenly as she felt someone tap her on the back. Roadie Frank stood in front of her, a look of mild panic on his old features.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, leaning in so he could hear her over the crowd.

“Gotta problem and Oliver told me to come and find you.”

Uh-oh.

“What happened?”

He shook his head. “No time, girly. Need to get you backstage five minutes ago.”

Frank grabbed her arm and winded his way through the crowd, then pushed her in front of him as the door to the back stage area came into view. A burly-looking security guy quickly moved out of the way and opened the door for them. Frank led her down a long, narrow corridor to the dressing rooms.

Oliver was sitting cross-legged in front of one of the doors and had his head leaning against it. “C’mon, mate. Get it together. We got this show to put on for your fans. We don’t want to disappoint them, do we?”

“What’s wrong?”

Oliver looked up and he scrambled to his feet. “Thank God, you’re here, sweets. Our boy has locked himself in his dressing room and sodding bastard won’t come out. Do your thing, he’ll listen to you.”

Buffy frowned. This was bad, very bad. “What makes you think he’ll listen to me if he hasn’t listened to you?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Oliver asked, folding his arms over his chest and raising a black eyebrow. “He’ll do anything you say. Now, go get his arse in gear, time’s a-wasting.”

Giving Oliver a doubtful glare, she sighed and went to the door. “Spike, are you okay?”

“Quit with the mum routine, Buffy. Just tell him to get out here,” Oliver told her.

“Would you just shut the hell up! Maybe the reason he wouldn’t open the door for you is that you’re such an asshole. Maybe my ‘mum’ routine will work,” Buffy snapped back.

Staring at the door, she tried again. “Spike? Come on, open the door.”

No one was answering and she felt a panic swell within her. Images of the morning she found him nearly dead flashed painfully in her mind and she knew that the time for talking was over.

“Frank, hand me your knife.”

If Frank had any reservations about giving her a deadly weapon, he said nothing. He flipped open his leather carrying case and slid the utility knife out, handing it to her.

She flipped it open and crouched down to study the latch. It was a flimsy thing and not a deadbolt so she wedged the knife between the door and the frame, then pressed back the latch, watching as the door swung open.

Oliver started in, but Buffy put out her arm to stop him. “Oliver, I think I should do this.”

“What? He’s my bloody best friend.”

Buffy shook her head. “Let me do it. If I need help, I’ll yell for you.”

For a minute, it looked as if he was going to argue with her, but instead he just nodded. “Fine.”

After giving Frank back his knife, she went inside and shut the door behind her. Scanning the room, she could find neither hide nor hair of Spike. She moved through the room, checking behind chairs and big black trunks.

“Spike? Where are you? Talk to me.”

A choked sob drew her attention to the love seat in the corner and she walked over to it. Peering over the back, she found Spike sitting with his back against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest.

“Spike? What’s wrong?”

Buffy moved to the side of the couch and pushed it away from the wall. She kneeled down beside him and brushed a wet curl away from his forehead.

“I can’t go out there. I can’t,” he whispered.

“Yes, you can.”

He shook his head furiously. “No. No, I can’t”

Buffy frowned, a grim line setting on her mouth. What to do? If he wasn’t ready, how could she push him? But if he was, how could she not?

With her mind made, she grabbed his chin and made him look at her. “You are going out. You’re not going to disappoint your fans again. You’re strong enough now, Spike. Now, I don’t want to hear any more crap about not going on. Get up!”

As if her orders were the only thing he knew, he pushed himself off the floor. He wiped away the tears and took a deep breath before walking over to his guitar and picking it up. “Okay.”

She followed him to the door and when he opened it, Oliver fell over onto his feet. Spike looked down and nudged Oliver with his boot.

“What’re you doin’ down there?”

Oliver gave him a sheepish grin. “Nothing, mate. Not a thing.”

“Well, come on then. Got a show t’ put on,” Spike told him, walking down the hall.

Oliver rolled his dark green eyes. “’Got a show t’ put on.’ Wanker.”

Buffy stifled her laughter. Her opinion of Oliver was still mixed, but the guy sure did have a wicked sense of humor.

“Told you he’d listen to you.” Oliver pressed the tip of his finger on her nose. “Buttons.”

Alrighty then. Buttons. Buttons? Huh?



******



The stage lit up blood red as the familiar bass line of Devil Sees Red thumped out of the speakers. A shaft of white light hit Oz as he pounded out the notes.

Buffy could feel her heart stop as Spike stepped up to the microphone and screamed a primal call to the audience. God, he was magnificent, like he was born just to be on stage.

He belted out the notes as if his life depended on it, jumping on the balls of his feet to the beat.

The crowd was going crazy as the front row tried to grab at him. He didn’t seem to notice that they were trying to pull him off the stage, he just kept singing.

Oliver stepped up for his guitar solo and made the most phenomenal noises come wailing out. It wasn’t humanly possible to make those kinds of sounds, Buffy was sure, but somehow Oliver coaxed the unnatural tones from the instrument any way.

She watched as Xander beat down on his drums with a fury that she knew he never possessed outside of the stage. He looked determined and intense, his head banging up and down as he struck the drums. Suddenly, he broke a stick and within seconds, another was thrown to him from someone off-stage.

They really did this whole tour thing down. If she had broken a drumstick in the middle of a song, she probably would have just stopped playing and ruined the whole thing. But not Xander, it was like he hadn’t even noticed.

The beat started to overtake her and her body began to sway. She could lose herself in this music. It was so emotional and powerful as if it was speaking just to her. Her arms went up as her body twisted, sending her spiraling into a complete trance.

“Did you miss us?” Spike asked, the music dying down to a low whisper as he spoke to the audience.

The crowd screamed in response and Buffy found herself transfixed on Spike. He had a sexy grin on his face, his eyes hooded.

“Just on our way back from Hell, thought we’d stop by and give you a little show,” he said, chuckling when someone screamed, “I want your baby!”

It might have been funny to Spike, but the woman’s outburst had made Buffy turn red with anger. Oh, I don’t think so! He’s mine, you groupie ho-bag!

Blinking, she realized that she had indeed just staked her claim on Spike, even if it was only in her mind.

“This is a new one. Hope you like it,” Spike said, picking up his guitar and strumming out a few notes.

And when you wanted me
I came to you
And when you wanted someone else
I withdrew
And when you asked for light
I set myself on fire
And if I go far away I know
You'll find another slave

The rest of the band looked a little bewildered for a minute. Obviously, they hadn’t practiced this one. Xander was the first to pick up the beat and he tapped on his drums. Oliver and Oz followed suit, their guitars adding to the notes that Spike was picking out of his guitar.

It was silly to think that he hadn’t been writing new songs, but Buffy hadn’t seen him nor had he mentioned anything about writing. She felt a little privileged to be one of the first people to hear it, even if it was about Dru.

‘Cause now I'm free from what you want
Now I'm free from what you need
Now I'm free from what you are

He was screaming into the mic now, his eyes shut as if it hurt to sing the words.

And when you wanted blood
I cut my veins
And when you wanted love
I bled myself again
Now that I've had my fill of you
I'll give you up forever
And here I go far away
I know you'll find another slave

This was the window into his thoughts. He didn’t like to talk about her, but he couldn’t help singing about her. Buffy didn’t know when he had written it but it sounded as if he was struggling to finally let her go.

‘Cause now I'm free from what you want
Now I'm free from what you need
Now I'm free from what you are

The crowd seemed to be enjoying the new song. They jumped as one to the solid rhythm, their hands in the air. She could see mouths moving as they sang along with the chorus, already having committed it to memory.

The band played for more than an hour and half, giving in everytime the crowd called for more. With one last encore, Spike thanked them for coming and started singing a rousing rock version of With A Little Help From My Friends.

As the song came to and end, Spike let his guitar swing behind him and he saluted the crowd. A deafening roar bounced between the walls of the club, screams piercing and whistles hitting decibels only a dog could hear.

And the lights went out.



******



Spike bounded off the stage, sweat running off of his skin and a renewed energy zipped up his spine.

He had forgotten what it was like to be up there. To sing his heart out and hear the crowd cheering. And to think, he had almost missed it while he wallowed in his own self-pity.

But then his angel had swept in and gave him the courage to push on, just like he knew she would.

“Dude, you rocked it!” Xander exclaimed as he ran up behind Spike.

Spike shook his head. “No, you did. How many sticks did you break?”

“Five and I think Oliver broke a string on Burn. We killed ‘em!”

They could always gage how good a show had been by how many instruments were broken during the concert. The more broken drumsticks and severed guitar strings, the better the show. Of course, no show had ever compared to Berlin ‘02 when Xander had beat his snare so hard it broke and Oliver fried an amp. Now that had been a bloody magnificent show!

The band was being ushered back to the dressing rooms and Spike glanced over his shoulder looking for Buffy. She wasn’t there. Maybe she was still out in the club. He’d seen her a few times while he was on stage, a surge of pride going through him when he saw how much she was enjoying the music.

He plopped down in a chair, exhausted but restless. It’s the way he always felt after a show. The act itself drained him, but the high he got kept him up for hours on end.

“See, you stubborn mule, would have bloody missed it if I hadn’t sent Buffy in after you skinny arse,” Oliver told him, pointing in an accusation.

“Bite me,” Spike returned.

“Don’t tempt me.”

Spike grinned. Always the perpetual joker, Oliver always had to have the last word. Unfortunately, sometimes his mouth got away from him.

“Say it a little louder so the tabloids can hear. Maybe then I won’t be the only one who has a secret gay relationship with my gardener, Fernando,” Spike said.

Oliver held up two fingers. “If I did have any gay tendencies, you wouldn’t be the one I’d pick. Too girly. Think I’d like a butch biker type.”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?”

Spike and Oliver looked up to see Buffy standing in the doorway.

“Oh, nothin’, luv. Olie was just sayin’ how I wasn’t his type,” Spike told her, giving Oliver a knowing glance.

“Lord, I hope not. I already have to beat off your fans. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to compete with him,” Buffy replied. She walked into the room and sat down on the arm of Spike’s chair.

Spike snaked an arm around her hips and yanked her down onto his lap. He wasn’t used to having his girl with him while he was on tour. Dru had never come. It was a great feeling that he would be able to share this with her. His two favorite things in the world, performing and Buffy, and now he could have his cake and eat it too.

Her arm slipped around his neck and he for a minute he was content. But then he realized that she wasn’t fighting him tooth and nail about the public display of affection. His brow wrinkled together and he turned his gaze to her face.

She smiled down at him, a brilliant show of teeth and lips. Well, that was new.













A/N: Okay…gotta a lot to say.

1) Of course, number one would have to be a huge shout out to my reviewers! You guys rock! I’m taken aback everytime I post and get such a great response.

2) The song Spike sings is ‘What You Are’ by Audioslave. I know I used another song of theirs earlier in the fic, but the lyrics to this one were dead on that I couldn’t pass it up. Hopefully, there were be a little less angsty music as the story progresses.

3) Okay, so I need a beta. Not for this fic but for another story I’ve started…’cause that plotbunny was gnawing at my feet again. I posted the specifics on my LJ. so if anyone is interested, you can visit there or drop me an e-mail. Muchas Gracias!

4) And as always, I hope everyone enjoyed. ; - )

A/N: Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews on the last chapter and I apologize for not updating sooner. Was having a bit of a problem with this chapter and I think I’ve re-written it about five times.

Many thanks to gypsy jin for helping me out with some of the plotting. ::claps:: Yay! I finally wrote it!

And to Tristan…I better see a review. ; - )









Spike couldn’t sit still. He was so amped up from the show that he was twitching. Add Buffy wiggling on his lap to the mix and you got one animated guy.

“You were really great out there,” Buffy told him, her fingers playing with the wet curls at the nape of his neck.

“Oh?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

What he wouldn’t give to be upstairs in their room right now. Not that he was sure she’d let him do anything, but at least he could try. Down here in the dressing rooms they had no privacy.

He wasn’t sure what had caused her sudden ease with him; however, he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Nope, he would just enjoy every second she wasn’t shying away from him until she went back to her old ways.

“They’re lettin’ in those radio winners. Look sharp,” Oliver said as he poked his head in the door.

Spike groaned. Normally, he enjoyed these little contest things where a couple people would win tickets and backstage passes over the radio. The Dingo’s fans were the greatest and he liked letting them know how much they were appreciated. But now? When things were progressing so well with Buffy?

No.

But he would do it anyway. These fans were his bread and butter and they honestly loved the band’s music. He wasn’t going to turn them away like some other musicians might just because he was being a little selfish.

“Radio winners?” Buffy asked, her brows coming together.

“Yeah, they won tickets and backstage passes to meet us,” Spike replied, smiling a little when he saw her frown. Aw, does baby not want t’ share?

“How long do those normally take?”

“Depends. Last year, we took of them on tour with us.”

Her eyes went wide at that. “What? You took a girl on tour with you after she won a chance to meet you?”

For cryin’ out loud, not the bloody groupie thing again.

“Wasn’t a girl. His name was Ryan and he was a great bloke. Sold an article about it to Rolling Stone after the tour ended,” Spike told her.

She at least had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little jealous.”

His eyebrows shot up. Did she just admit that she was jealous? Jesus, now he really wanted to know what had happened to her out there.

“Jealous? Why?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe because you have girls screaming that they want your baby.”

He started laughing, he couldn’t help it. She was talking about that woman at the concert, but she probably wouldn’t be too happy to find out that he got that a lot. More than any other guy in the band, he was always getting fan mail and screaming women at concerts wanting him to be their sperm donor.

Of the lot of them, Spike wished he could get the kinds of letters that Oz got. The guy only got poetry and quotes on philosophy with an occasional ’your music really speaks to me’. He’d switch fan bases with that guy any day.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the attention or the overzealous women, but it really clashed with his wanting to keep a committed relationship. He saw it with Dru and now with Buffy, that all they could understand was that women were falling at his feet. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t interested or that he’d never touch another woman while he was with them, they thought he was dipping into the groupie river.

With Dru, it had pissed him off something fierce because she was in the business. She would get fan letters with men sending her nude pictures and writing about detailed sex acts. He’d seen on the television all the time the way she was groped at and not once did he ever say, “I think you’re screwing that guy.”

Of course, he recongized now that she would assume he was having sex his fans because she was.

But Buffy didn’t know any better and he felt compelled to try and have a little more patience with her even though it was still hard on him to think she didn’t trust him.

“And yet, who am I with, luv? Who am I lettin’ sit on my lap while she squirms so much that I’m ready t’ explode?”

Her cheeks turned red. “You’re ready to explode?”

“What do you think?” He raised his hips a little and let her feel how hard he was, grinding into her soft bottom.

At her gasp, he grabbed the back of her neck and brought her down to his lips. The kiss was rough and full of need. He wanted her to feel what she did to him. Shoving his tongue between her lips, he caressed the warm cavern of her mouth.

One hand moved down to grasp her ass, squeezing a firm globe with his fingers. He pulled her towards him, making her straddle his thighs. She was incredibly willing and Spike felt his heart soar a little.

“Only you, baby,” he whispered against her sweet pink lips.

Just as he was about to start with some heavy petting, the door opened again and Oliver stood there, blinking.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” He asked and Buffy bolted away from Spike so fast that she almost fell off the chair.

“Not at all,” Spike replied through clenched teeth.

“Good,” Oliver breezed. “Got the contest winners out here and they want to see you.” He was practically singing it out. Bastard really got his rocks off irritating him, didn’t he?

Plastering a fake smile on his face, Spike said, “Send ‘em in.”



******



At first, Buffy could tell that Spike wasn’t very thrilled about hanging out with the contest winners. But after ten minutes, his whole demeanor changed and he looked like he was really enjoying himself.

There were three winners. A thirty-something woman with bright pink hair and arms full of tattoos named Randi. Then there was a younger guy, Seth, who was so shy that Oliver had to coax every syllable out of him. And last, but not least, a grandmother of two, Ella.

None of them fit the groupie label and Buffy was actually pretty impressed with their intelligence. When she thought of what her definition of fan was, she was shocked to realize that she envisioned them all as hot chicks who wanted to ‘do’ the band and geeks who collected every album and all the merchandise.

God, how crappy was she? These people were nice and she was sure that none of them had any interest in ‘doing’ the band.

She supposed her preconceived notions came from Dru’s fans. Since she was involved with the horror genre, the majority of her fans were quite creepy. Even her fan letters were of the sick and twisted nature. They were weirdos and sex fiends.

“So, how did you like the concert?”

Buffy turned to see Randi looking at her with curiosity.

“I loved it!”

“Have you been on the tour with them long?” Randi asked.

Buffy shook her head. “No, this is my first show.”

“Wow, must be exciting.”

“Yeah, it is,” Buffy told her.

Glancing over at Spike, she gave him a smile while he talked to Ella. She could see mischief dancing around in his bright blue eyes and she wished she could go upstairs with him.

She was still not ready to have sex with him, but if they were alone, they could explore each other a little more. And she was ready for that. It felt so good to sit on his lap and just be with him.

Part of the reason she was so apprehensive about going to the next level with him was that her last relationship had ended not long after it had begun. Things were great with Parker in the beginning. They talked, went places, and he seemed like he was a really great guy. Even someone she might think about forever with.

But that all stopped once she had sex with him. The dates became fewer and fewer. He stopped calling. Eventually, he ended things with her after stringing her along for a few weeks, telling her that they weren’t compatible enough.

Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she wasn’t good enough and if she had sex with Spike, he would be disappointed and not want to be with her. It was stupid, but she couldn’t make the fear of losing him go away.

She was in far deeper than she wanted to admit and there was so much to lose.




******




After a half an hour of talking to the radio winners, they had to say goodbye. Spike gave Ella a big hug and told her to send her grandchildren’s picture to him.

They gave the winners a bunch of autographed stuff, t-shirts and cds, before sending them off.

“I liked them,” Oliver said, picking at some lint on his jeans.

Spike nodded, glancing over at Buffy. “So, luv, you ready t’ go upstairs?”

“Yep. Ready when you are, Captain.”

Standing up, he kicked Oliver in the shin. “See you tomorrow, mate.”

“Yeah, I got a cute little brunette waiting for me, so I best be off as well.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as she walked over to join Spike in the trek back upstairs. “Make sure you use something, Olie,” she called out as they left the room.

“Okay, Mum!”

The trip up to the room was made in silence and it wasn’t until they were safely in the suite that Spike finally said something.

“Gonna go take a shower, ducks. I’m filthy,” he told her, sitting down to take off his boots.

“Okay. Are you hungry? I could order something,” she asked, plopping down in the couch next to him.

“Sounds good.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “See you in a bit.”

When he reached the bathroom, he turned on the shower and fiddled around with the taps until he got the right temperature. He stripped down quickly, peeling the clothes from his wet and sticky body.

The hot water felt good on his skin, sending shivers through him. He let the water run over his head as he scrubbed shampoo into his scalp. It was time to bleach it again. He’d been letting it grow out from sheer laziness and he really hadn’t thought about it much until Ella had mentioned it.

Maybe he could show Buffy how to do it so he wouldn’t have to find someone while they were on tour.

His eyes closed at the thought of her running her hands through his hair. He loved feeling her hands on him, the way they touched and teased. There wasn’t anything better in the world than her touch, he was sure of it.

He could feel his cock rise to attention and he groaned. This was crazy. She was making him hard all the time now. Even when she wasn’t in the same room with him, all he had to do was think about her and he was gone. Did she know? Did she know how much he wanted to be with her?

Gritting his teeth, he let his hand slide down his stomach to grip the base of his erection. His thoughts went to the night before when she’d gone down in him, licking and sucking, blowing his fuckin’ mind. Up, down, up, down, gliding over his cock like warm velvet.

“Oh, Buffy,” he rasped out, bracing one hand against the cool tile of the shower. His hand continued to move in long strokes, mirroring her actions from last night.

It wasn’t enough. The memory of her was too blurry and he was desperate for release.

Suddenly a sound echoed in the bathroom and he opened the sliding glass door to find Buffy leaning up against the wall, touching herself.

That’ll work.




******




Buffy picked up the phone to order room service. She played with the menu as she waited for the operator to pick up.

“Good evening, this is Mandalay Bay Room Service, how can I help you?”

“Oh, hi. This is Suite 124 and I’d like to get something sent up, please,” Buffy told the operator.

“Sure. What can I get for you tonight?”

“Um, can I get the shrimp caeser with some garlic bread? A diet Coke and…” Crap! She had no idea what Spike wanted.

“Miss?”

“Oh, sorry. Can I call you back? I have to figure out what Spike wants,” Buffy said.

“Absolutely. Do you want me to have them start on the salad?”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

Buffy hung up the phone and padded across the plush carpet to the bathroom door. She knocked softly, not wanting to scare him. “Spike?”

Opening the door, she poked her head inside. He was in the shower, the glass door hiding nothing from her curious eyes.

Whoa! Hello, sexy!

He was lathering his hair and she watched in rapt fascination as soap suds trailed down his lean body. Oh, to be a soap sud! After rinsing his hair, he turned to face the showerhead, letting the water run over his face.

She realized that this was a huge invasion of his privacy, but she couldn’t get her legs to work. All she could do was stare as his hand started downward towards his now-erect cock. When did that happen?

Her breath caught as he started sliding his hand up and down the solid length of himself. Tingles shot through her body and she felt a familiar throbbing begin between her legs. Oh, this wasn’t right. She should leave now, right now…

A fingertip ran along her bottom lip and she sucked it into her mouth. It quickly left her mouth and trailed a wet path to one hardened nipple, circling it through the material of her shirt and bra. A little moan escaped her as her finger moved once again, now on the direct course of her hot center.

She looked up again, seeing Spike quicken his pace a little. It was mesmerizing; the long up and down stroke moving at such an intense speed that she couldn’t follow it.

Her hand slipped under the waistband of her jeans and panties, over the course curls, and slid down to cup her wet pussy. She cried out at the sensation of her fingers pressing down on her clit. Oh, it felt so good.

Rubbing herself in small circles, she could feel the waves of pleasure rocking through her. Her fingers gathered up some of her wetness and continued rubbing her throbbing clit.

“Oh, Buffy.”

Her eyes popped open. He was thinking about her? A bolt of intense desire zapped her, spreading over her body like warm honey.

All of a sudden, she lost her footing on the slick tile floor and struggled to keep herself upright, her free hand thumping against the wall. If she didn’t feel ridiculous already…

Her eyes went up to the shower, going wide when she saw Spike standing there, naked as the day he was born and still holding onto his cock. His gaze was hot and wild, making a shudder go through her.

Never leaving eye contact, Spike began stroking himself again, bracing a foot on the edge of the shower.

Did he want her to…? By the look in his eyes, she would have to say yes. But she couldn’t, could she? That was way beyond the perimeters that she had set up. Although, technically, it wouldn’t be having sex and she had wanted to explore with him.

With a smirk, she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs. She could hear his audible gasp and looked up to find him stroking himself harder. Moving to hook her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear, she was stopped from pulling them down at the sound of his voice.

“Leave ‘em on, pet,” he whispered thickly.

Her eyebrows went up, questioning, but she did what he said. She cupped herself, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit, her fingers stroking through the cotton of her panties.

She moaned, feeling the pressure building within her. Her fingers moved upward to rub against the hard little bundle of nerves, sending pleasure rolling over her.

“That’s it, baby,” Spike said roughly. “Now slip one o’ those fingers into that hot quim.”

Like she was under a spell weaved by his voice, her index finger slipped under her panties and into her wet entrance, making her cry out. Her back fell against the wall as she pumped her finger in and out of her tight channel.

“Spike!” She shouted out as her orgasm suddenly overtook her body, shuddering uncontrollably.

Her eyes opened just as Spike roared out his completion, jerking as ropes of come spurted out. Slowly, their bodies began to come down from their mutual high and Spike slumped against the shower door.

“Bloody hell, pet,” he panted out.

All she could was nod in agreement.

Nominated at the Lost In Spike Awards! Yay! For Best WIP, Best Love Story, and Best AU. Thanks to whoever nominated me…you guys are the best!!










“Bloody hell, pet,” he panted out.

Spike had to grasp the wall of the shower to steady his shaky limbs as he watched her through hooded eyes. Her chest was heaving, arms hanging limply at her sides. Fucking gorgeous, she was.

When he had seen her standing there pleasuring herself, he was fully prepared for her to storm off, ranting and raving that this was all a huge mistake. Not for one second had he ever thought that she would participate. It was a fantasy come true.

Perhaps this was the turning point for them. Maybe she was ready to finally take that extra step with him. Even admit that she had feelings for him.

Or maybe not.

Her eyes had returned to their clear and cognitive state and there was nothing warm and fuzzy about the glare she was giving him.

Okay, what the bloody hell just happened? First, there was only this fog of post-orgasmic bliss that seemed to infect them both with a silly, stupid sort of grin. They were relaxed and easy, their extremities empty of all feeling other than a general tingling.

And now, it looked like the shit was going to hit the proverbial fan.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” she said in a quiet outrage.

He felt defeated. What did it take? He was really starting to doubt his ability to make this work between them. She ran so hot and cold. And not just any kind of cold, it was the sort of bone-freezing, never-feel-warmth-again ice blast that made skin turn blue and hearts frost over.

“It was amazing, Buffy. What-”

“It was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Spike shut his eyes to contain the searing anger that threatened to make him do something incredibly stupid. How could she stand there and tell him it was wrong? It was beautiful, special, and it had rocked him to the core.

Gaining feeling back in his body, he reached over and wrenched the faucets closed. His jaw tightened as he stepped out of the shower, not bothering to cover up his nakedness. This wasn’t some kiddie show, this was the real deal and the sooner she got that through her thick skull, the better off they’d both be.

He slammed his open palm against the wall beside her head, her eyes shutting at the loud slap it created in her ear.

“What the fuck is this, Buffy? I’m tired of these bloody games,” he growled.

If she was afraid, she didn’t show it. Instead she jutted her chin out and defiantly stared up at him.

“Get away from me,” she told him through her clenched white teeth.

“No!” He barked out, throwing his other hand against the wall when she tried to duck away. “You an’ I are gonna ‘ave a little talk. You’re gonna tell me why you think this was so wrong.”

She tried to push him away, but he wasn’t budging. No, not this time.

“Leave me alone, Spike.”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh, baby. Not until we’ve had this out.”

A sound, a cross between a growl and a sigh, escaped her lips. “You know why it was wrong. You told me you would wait.”

He laughed humorlessly, pushing himself away from her. “Are you seriously considering using that as a defense? I was waiting, you crazy bint. I did everything you told me to and yet, you have the balls t’ tell me that I broke our deal?”

“You pushed-”

“No,” he rumbled. “You came in ‘ere. I didn’t push you. You walked your pert little bum in ‘ere your-damn-self and you stuck your bloody hand down your pants! Not me!”

She was trembling now, but not with fear, Spike was sure. “I told you that I didn’t want to have sex with you, but you just kept shoving it in my face. Why can’t you just leave it alone?!”

“How can I when you sit on my lap and wiggle your ass like a bitch in heat? What am I supposed t’ think, eh? You say you don’t want it, but there you were, gettin’ off on me touchin’ myself!”

“You know what? Fuck you, Spike! I didn’t see you stopping either,” she yelled, her hazel-green eyes burning like a brushfire in summer.

“Guy here, yeah?” He placed a hand on his alabaster chest. “Any opportunity I can get, ‘m gonna take.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?! All that bullshit about being faithful and not wanting your fans was all a big fat, fucking lie, wasn’t it?! Jesus, I was so stupid to ever be-”

“Oh, get off it, Buffy! That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

Her lips curved into a sardonic smile. “Sure, Spikey. You didn’t mean that at all.”

“Any opportunity with you. I would jump at the chance t’ be with you, not my bloody fans. What does it take t’ make you believe me?”

The smile slipped from her face and she was suddenly quiet.

His anger was all but gone, being replaced with a cold despair. The tears threatened to spill but he tried to fight them away. Why was he such a simpering git? Crying, again, like he couldn’t control his own emotions. Love’s bitch to the very end.

“Spike…”

“You can’t keep draggin’ me along like this, pet,” he said softly.

She moved to touch his arm, but he shrugged her off. “Spike, please, I’m so-”

“Don’t. Stop playin’ these mind games with me and tell me the soddin’ truth. Do you want t’ be with me or not?”




******




This was one of those yes or no things. No maybes, no I’ll-think-about-its, nothing that wasn’t either yay or nay would do.

Blaming him for her inability to deal with what they did was wrong. Everything she had said to him was out of anger towards herself, but he didn’t know that. It was easy for her to throw the blame around, to put the fault on everyone that wasn’t her. But that didn’t make it right.

She was afraid of how much she was allowing herself to let him in. Keep ‘em at an arm’s length or further, was her motto. Yet with Spike, she found that she clung to their growing closeness like it was the only thing keeping her from falling off the ledge. She was a self-sufficient woman, but every day it was getting harder and harder to picture her life without him.

And that scared the crap out of her.

“You build me up and tear me down all in the same breath.”

“Spike, I’m so sorry.” Not that the words meant jack because that’s all they were…just words.

He looked haunted, her apology making him sink deeper within himself. “Are you here with me or not, Buffy?”

What he was wanting wasn’t something she had in her to give. Didn’t he know what he was asking of her? It was too much.

“I-I can’t.”




******




Oliver stared out of the large window in his room, over the expanse of bright Vegas lights, as he exhaled blue smoke from his lungs.

There was a tub full of beautiful women in his bathroom, no doubt getting into the large amount of booze and cocaine he had set out. Funny, though, it was the last place he wanted to be. And even funnier was the fact that the girls didn’t seem to even notice he wasn’t there.

He had a really bad feeling and he couldn’t shake the uneasiness that was pulsing in his gut. Something bad was going to happen.

A loud giggle echoed in the room, but Oliver didn’t spare the bathroom a glance as he took another drag off of his cigarette. He‘d lost his taste for faceless women and drug-induced stupors. Now, the only thing that seemed to matter was the music.

Of course, Spike had thrown that into a tailspin when Drusilla had left him. Oliver had known that Spike would take the break-up hard, but he’d never imagined that Spike would have taken it as far as he did. He had been one bottle of Jack from drinking himself into a bloody coma.

If Buffy hadn’t found him when she did, there was no telling how it all might have turned out.

He liked the girl. Soft with just the right amount of hard-edged attitude. She was a perfect match for Spike. Now if only she would quit denying her feelings.

When he had suggested to Spike that he hire the girl as his assistant, it was really only with Spike’s safety in mind. She could keep an eye out for him; keep the poor soddin’ bastard out of trouble, and out of the hospital.

The night of the impromptu practice, he had every intention of pulling her aside and asking her to pay special attention to Spike. But once he saw them together, he knew that was not something he would have to remind her to do. She was emotionally invested whether she knew it or not.

Rolling his eyes when he began hearing moans from the bathroom, he flicked his cigarette and made for the door. Maybe Xander would be up for some blackjack down in the casino. Frankly, anything was better than watching the same porn scene again.

“Oooh!”

“Sodding chits,” he mumbled as he went out the door.




******




“Why not?”

Spike watched as a tear slid down her cheek and he struggle with himself to keep from wiping it away.

“I can’t give you what you want, Spike. I just can’t.”

“Why not?” He asked again.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you, baby. I love you.”

Her sharp breath was like a stab through his heart.

“No. No, you can’t love me, Spike,” she told him vehemently.

“Why can’t I?”

“Because you just separated from Drusilla and-”

He put a hand up. “Just stop. This isn’t about Dru. The way I feel about you has nothin’ t’ do with anyone but you an’ me, luv.”

“You just met me,” she argued.

Smiling, he tilted his head. “Feel like I’ve known you forever.”

A panicked look spread over her face and she backed up a little. “I work for you.”

He chuckled. “I could fire you, if you’d like.”

“I c-can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he said as he moved closer to her.

“Spike, don’t.”

They were a breath apart and Spike could feel her body heat seeping into his skin. She smelled like sex and sweetness and all Buffy. It was intoxicating and he felt drunk on her.

“Don’t what?” He gave her a smoldering gaze as he leaned in to trail hot breath across her neck.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice so weak that it was almost a whisper.

His tongue darted out to taste her skin. “I can wait for you. I love you, Buffy. I’ll wait an eternity if you want me to.”

“Spike, I-”

He put a finger across her lips. “Shhh. I know you don’t love me, but I think if you let yourself, you could. Just…please don’t throw this away, luv. I need you.”

Pulling back, he looked into her eyes, hoping to see some spark of acceptance in their hazel-green depths. He knew she felt something for him, however little it was, it was still there. She just needed to acknowledge it so he had something to build on.

She was so closed off. There were things in her past that were making her act this way. He doubted it was just a result of a bad relationship. No, this went deeper than that. If only she would just open up to him.

“Please, kitten. Give us a chance.”

His breath stuck in his lungs as the minutes ticked by, her silence making the void in his heart grow with each passing second. She was going to refuse him, that wasn’t even a question any more. He could tell by her blank stare that she was trying to think of a way of telling him without hurting his feelings.

Bit fucking late for that though.

“If you don’t want me, just bloody say it, Buffy!”

She looked up at him and shook her head. “That’s not it. I-I want…”

God, she was driving him insane with all of this. Couldn’t she just give him an answer?

“What, Buffy? What do you want? Tell me!” He hadn’t meant it so angry, but it came out that way despite his attempts to soften his tone.

“I want to try.”

It was so quiet that he wasn’t sure he’d even heard it. “What?”

She swallowed hard and gave him a steady, confident gaze. “I want to try to be with you, Spike. No more games.”

Well, I’ll be damned. Guess he could make it work after all.









You didn’t think it would all be rainbows and puppies, did you? Sorry about the angst…I know some of you aren’t fans of the drama, but it was a fight that’s been brewin’ for a while now. And I’m sure I’ll have some people who will be very frustrated with the way Buffy is acting. Just give her some time. She doesn’t know what the hell she wants.

Thanks for the great reviews on the last chapter, though. I’m glad you enjoyed it. ; - ) ~Jae

A/N: The girl’s on a roll, folks! Thanks for the great and many reviews on the last chapter. I’m glad everyone liked it, even though I was a bit worried how the angst would be received. Well, here’s an update for you…and it’s quite a bit longer than I normally write so I’m guessin’ the muse is back on duty. Enjoy!






The temperate weather had turned ugly by the next morning. Rain came down in droves from menacing black clouds and the sky was a bruised dark purple. Buffy stared intently at the large picture window in her room, watching as the water ran down the glass making the sky outside appear blurry.

It was fitting, the weather turning like this. After last night, she was sure that she had ruined whatever chance she had with Spike. God, he must think she was out of her mind.

Why not? That’s what she was thinking.

Glancing at the alarm clock, she sighed. It was only seven o’clock and there were still a couple of hours to go before they had to leave for Phoenix. She needed to get up, but the prospect of running into Spike had her glued to the bed sheets.

He had every right to be angry with her. For the first time, she was beginning to let the blame lie with the right person, herself. She was good at playing the blame-game, making excuses, and generally not taking credit for any of her own mistakes. But if she wanted things to work between her and Spike, she would have to start taking responsibility for her stupid actions and cruel words.

Did she want it to work between them? Did she want an actual relationship with him?

Yes.

Denying the chemistry between them would be impossible at this point. Too much had gone on between them to ignore and Buffy wasn’t sure she wanted to even if she could.

What was that they said about opposites attracting? Spike was her opposite in almost every way. He was untamed, wild, and acted purely by emotion alone. Her life was dictated by reason and control, but more than anything, she wanted to be like him.

She was tired of being guarded and closed-off. Since her mother passed away, she’d had to keep her emotions in check for Dawn. Buffy had become the adult, the provider and she tried hard to remain cool and confident so Dawn would have that stability in her life.

It wasn’t long before she found herself losing that part of her that was so uniquely Buffy that she wasn’t sure who she was anymore. Before her mother’s death, she was wild and full of spirit. She was the type of person that people flocked to, wanted to be friends with, and looked up to.

If only Spike could have met that Buffy instead of the bitter woman she had become. He would have loved her.

Frowning, she threw back the covers. He had said last night that he loved her. When she had denied his declaration, it hadn’t been because she didn’t believe that he could have fallen in love so quickly, but that he couldn’t have fallen in love with her. How could he ever love her? She had been horrible to him and worst of all, she had known she was doing it.

He deserved more than that.

She went to her suitcase and pulled out a pair of jeans, throwing them on quickly. The need to get out of this damned hotel room was overwhelming. She didn’t know where she would go, but she had to get out before she went crazy.

Peering out into the main room, she noticed that Spike’s door was still closed. It was hard to say if he was awake or not, but either way, she would be able to slip out without him even noticing. She padded across the room and slipped on her shoes, then grabbed her purse, and was out the door.

She made her way down to the casino floor, not sure if she was just going to wander around or venture outside. The casino was fairly busy considering the time, but Buffy could tell that most of the people were leftover players from the night before, so transfixed on the slot machines that they had stayed up well past sunrise to try their luck.

They had a machine for everything it seemed. I Dream of Jeanie, Wheel of Fortune, video poker, keno, The Beverly Hillbillies, Texas Tea…the list was endless. All of them were outrageously lit up with blowing whistles and crazy voices. It was distracting to her so it was no wonder people spent hours plunking money in these machines without any thought put into how much they were really spending.

Walking past a casino bar, she noticed someone who looked very familiar. After a closer look her suspicions were confirmed. Oliver.

“Have you been here all night?” She asked as she took a stool next to him.

He glanced at her, but didn’t seem all that surprised to see her. “Mostly.”

“You don’t look drunk.”

“That’s because I’m not, sweets. Just killing some time.”

“Why aren’t you killing time in your room, maybe getting some sleep before we have to hit the road?”

His green eyes narrowed and he studied her for a minute. “What’s with the twenty soddin’ questions? Didn’t know you cared.”

“I…” She couldn’t finish what she was about to say. It would have been a lie to say that she had cared. Fact of the matter was she wasn’t sure she liked Oliver very much. But she did have to admit, she was pretty curious about him. “Just curious.”

Oliver shrugged. “Fair enough, I guess.”

“So why-”

“Because I invited a flock of women up to my room last night and I don’t feel like kicking them all out,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Uh, this might be a stupid question, but why aren’t you up there…um, having a good time?”

“Bored with it,” he told her. “I’ve been doing this for years, lovey. After a while, it starts to get old.”

Uh, okay. That was something new. She hadn’t ever met a celebrity who had grown tired of the perks, but Oliver wasn’t the typical rockstar celebrity anyway so it made some sense. She guessed.

“You could just stop inviting strange women up to your room. That might help,” she suggested.

He looked at her like she had grown a second head for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Yeah, that’ll happen. Got a reputation to keep tarnishing, you know.”

Did that mean that it was all an act? Was he purposely trying to make himself look like the big bad rockstar? If she wasn’t confused before, she sure as hell was now.

“You want a drink, sweets?”

“Oh, uh, maybe just some water,” she replied.

Shaking his head, he waved the bartender over.

“Can I get you something, sir?” The bartender asked.

“Yeah. I’ll have another Stoli and tonic and the lady will have a…” Oliver glanced at her, giving her the up and down before turning back to the bartender. “Toasted Almond.”

“Oliver! I said I just wanted water,” Buffy admonished.

He waved her off. “Buggar that! If you’re sitting with me, you’ll have a drink. Don’t worry, it’s a girly drink. You’ll like it.”

She wasn’t a big drinker. A glass of wine and she was buzzed for hours, anything more than that and she would be hugging the porcelain alter.

The bartender set the drinks in front of them and Buffy eyed hers wearily. It looked safe enough.

“What’s in it?” She asked, playing with the two red straws in her glass.

“Nevermind, just drink up.”

Leaning down to the glass, she took a sip of the caramel-colored drink. Hey! “Hey! This is really good,” she told him.

“I told you,” he replied. “You know, I’m not a half-bad bloke once you get to know me.”

“Yeah, well, if you didn’t act like such an ass all of time, I probably would have gotten to know you a lot sooner.”

“If I didn’t act like an ass, you’d be all over me.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide. “As if! You are so not my type, besides, I’ve got Spike.”

Oliver’s expression went somber all of the sudden. “Is that so? Well, why, pray tell, are you down here with me then when you could be upstairs snogging your honey-bear?”

“I…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. What happened? You two seemed hot and heavy yesterday,” Oliver said.

Buffy sighed loudly. “I screwed up. Really screwed up.”

“Hmm. You see, though, that’s the great thing about Will. He’s good at forgiving people.”

“I don’t think I deserve it.”

Oliver’s black brows furrowed together. “I’m sure it wasn’t all that bad. What did you do? Play hide and tickle with the bellboy?”

Buffy laughed. “No, nothing like that.”

“Well, he’s forgiven Dru for worse then. You know that as well as I do.”

“Yeah,” she said softly.

“You want some advice, then?”

Want? No. Need? Absolutely. And who better to give her a little guidance than the one person who might know more about Spike than anyone.

“Yeah, I would.”

Oliver turned on his stool so that he was facing her, reaching out to spin her so that they were face to face. He grabbed her hands and held them carefully in his as if to make what he was going to say easier to take.

“Will is an all or nothing kind of a man, Buffy. You can’t keep him in the dark forever. He loves you, but it’s twisted, you see. All he knows is Dru and he’s trying to play the same hand with you that he did with her. Love isn’t supposed to hurt, but he doesn’t know that.”

“So what am I supposed to do then?”

“Buffy, you’re a bright girl. I’m sure you’ll figure that out all on your own,” he told her.

What he said made a lot of sense, just not the kind of sense that she could formulate into a good strategy. She had known it wasn’t going to be easy and yet, when Oliver had offered his advice, she almost believed he would have all the answers. And maybe he did, but he wasn’t telling her.

“We should really get packing. We’ve got to leave soon,” Buffy said, suddenly needing to change the subject.

Oliver groaned. “Uh, don’t remind me. I still have some damage control to do.”

“Do you want me to, um, help you?”

“You’d do that?” Oliver’s eyebrows rose in mild shock.

Buffy shrugged. “Yeah, why not? I’ve been told I’m good at bossing people around, so maybe I can be of some use.”

“Alright, let’s go then.”

Oliver dug into his pocket and paid for their drinks before sliding off the stool. He grabbed her hand and led her across the casino floor to the elevators. As the elevator made its climb up to the top floors, Buffy couldn’t help but notice that Oliver seemed a little nervous.

“Are you okay?”

“Look, sweets, I should probably warn you that it’s not going to be pretty in there. That there might be some not-so-legal substances involved and-”

“It’s okay. Really. I worked for Dru, trust me, I’m no stranger to that stuff,” she reassured him.

Dru partied hard. Most nights she could be found boozing it up with the gang of drugged out fakes she called friends. Buffy had become quite good at caring for Dru after her nightly benders. It was the reason she knew what to do with Spike when she’d found him half-dead on the floor that morning not so long ago.

And it didn’t surprise her that Oliver was living the same sort of lifestyle. He seemed like one of those die-hard, rock-it-’til-I-meet-my-maker types. Difference between him and the rest of the rockstars she’d met was that Oliver seemed to know that what he was doing wasn’t healthy. But why he continued to do it, she was still a little baffled by.

They walked down the hall to his room and he slid the keycard in the slot. The door beeped open and she followed him inside.

Holy shit! The place was trashed. Almost worse than Spike’s living room when he had decided to ‘redecorate’.

“Jesus, Oliver,” she whistled out.

“I know,” he replied, shame coloring his voice.

Setting her jaw tightly, she prepared herself. If she had to guess, she’d say her no nonsense act was part mom and part drill sergeant. The perfect blend of disappointment and take charge attitude.

“Alright! Everyone up!” She shouted, kicking the coffee table.

There were a few stirring women, but no one was getting up. Time for another tactic. Walking over to the mini-bar, she grabbed an ice bucket and filled it with cold water.

Stomping over to the first girl, she dumped the water on her, watching as the girl shot up, sputtering and coughing.

“Get out!” Buffy yelled in her ear.

The girl jumped and stared wide-eyed up at Buffy. “W-Wha-?”

“I said, get out!” Buffy grabbed the girl’s arm and dragged her towards the door.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know he was married!” The girl was crying and Buffy felt just an ounce of regret that she was doing this.

“I’m not his wife,” Buffy told her.

“No, she’s my mum!” Oliver called out as he was busy flipping the couch back over.

The girl looked incredibly confused. “Huh?”

“Just get out.” Buffy pushed the girl out and slammed the door in her face.

Repeating the bucket/shout method, Buffy got through two other girls before the rest started to stir on their own. Some were angry, others scared, and the rest were just plain clueless. Each one of them, though, got an earful of Buffy and a shove out the door.

After the last one was kicked out, Buffy slumped against the door. “What the hell were you going to do with thirteen girls?”

Oliver stood up straight from his trash collecting. “There were only five when I left.”

“Five?! What were you going to-”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Er, not really. She could kind of guess what he had intended to do with five women and knowing Oliver, he would have gone into great detail if she let him.

“No. That’s okay. I don’t want to know.”

“Good choice, lovey.”

“So, you’re going to clean this up then?”

Oliver smirked. “Sure, mum. I’ll make sure my room’s tidied, my homework’s done, and my arse is wiped. I’ll be a good boy.”

Two could play at this game. “Better be or I’ll be back to punish you.”

“Ah, please do,” Oliver replied, his green eyes glittering emerald.

Buffy frowned. She really hadn’t meant it that way. God, that would really suck if Oliver started to like her. Spike was a jealous man as it was and the tension was already thick enough between him and Oliver.

“Oliver, I hope you don’t think-”

“Nope. Your virtue is quite safe with me, sweets. Just teasing you.”

How did he always know what she was going to say? It was seriously creeping her out at this point.

“Right, uh, I guess I’ll just be off then.”

Oliver nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Okay. See you downstairs,” she said as she opened the door and started out.

“Hey, Buffy,” he called out after her.

Poking her head back in, she waited for him to say what he needed to say.

“Thanks.”

Buffy smiled. “No problem.”





******





Spike stirred slowly at the movement on his bed. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see Buffy sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“Buffy?”

“Hi,” she said softly, waving.

“Is there somethin’ wrong, luv?”

His brain was still slow from sleep and he was trying hard to comprehend what was happening. Why was she in his room?

“No. I mean, maybe. I don’t know.”

His head was throbbing and he brought a hand up to rub at his temple. Slowly, he sat up, making sure that the sheet was wrapped around his hips. As much as he loved seeing her sweet blush whenever he did anything blatantly sexual, this was not the time.

“I’m confused. Is there somethin’ wrong or not?”

She bit at her lower lip and Spike stifled a groan. Despite the huge argument they’d had last night, he couldn’t help but to react to her. There wasn’t anything that would dilute the sexual charge that sparked between them.

“Well, I guess that depends on you.”

“Me?”

Bloody hell, his head hurt and these riddles were not helping. Spit it out, you loopy bint.

“Do you still want to be with me?”

His eyes popped open at that. “What?”

“I mean, if you don’t, I completely understand because I was so horrible last night and I get why you would never want to see me again even though I really hope that’s not true because I really want to be with you and I know that I’ve confused you with all of my flip-flopping, but I’m trying to be better about knowing what I want and I hope you’ll give me a second…well, actually, this is more like the fifth chance, but-”

“Buffy, please stop.”

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I’m babbling, huh?”

A faint smirk curved at one end of his lips. “Just a bit.”

Moments passed in silence and they just stared at one another.

“So, do you still want to be with me?” Buffy finally asked after the very uncomfortable pause in the conversation.

He had known the answer to that even before she’d asked it the first time. Before she had ever stepped foot in his room. Even as they fought last night, he had known the answer to that.

It was true, he was a damn fool, obviously never learning from his mistakes. His head kept screaming, push her away, she’ll only hurt you. But his heart…his heart called out to give her another chance. A million chances if he had to. And he would, no matter how many times she stabbed him with her cold words.

“’Til the end of the world. I love you, Buffy. That’s not just gonna go away because we have an argument,” he told her.

Her eyes were filled with unshed tears and she smiled before looking down at the bedspread. “I’m so sorry about last night. I don’t know why I said those things. They weren’t true.”

He took a sharp breath into his lungs. This wasn’t the girl he knew. This girl was open and honest with him. His Buffy would never do that, preferring to keep all of her emotions bottled up and locked away.

“C’mere,” he rasped, holding his hand out for her to take.

Pulling her up, he situated her on his lap, her legs straddling either side of his thighs. He couldn’t help the reaction in his groin and he closed his eyes for a minute to reclaim his control.

His hand dove into her long blond hair and drew her head down so that he could capture her lips with his own. She tasted so sweet, like honey-roasted almonds and home. His tongue slid against hers then brushed over her lower lip.

She moaned, leaning into him, her breasts pressed against his bare chest. His hand reached around to hold her to him and shifted his hips upward. God, she was so hot. He longed to bury himself within her wet, welcoming depths even though he knew she wasn’t ready for that yet.

He rose up and flipped her on her back, settling between her thighs and allowing himself to grind into her. She moaned again, a low, smooth sound of pure want and he felt emboldened.

His fingers slid down her neck to her shoulder, then made the path to one ripe breast. He teased her hardening peak and cupped the full weight of her mound in his hand.

Deepening the kiss, he pressed himself into her. His hand left her breast and traveled south to the waistband of her jeans, sliding between them to unbutton the fastening. She didn’t make any sound of protest as he slid her zipper down.

He abandoned her mouth as he moved down her body, leaving a trail of hot kisses as he progressed towards her hips. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her jeans and he pulled them down and off of her legs.

She wore a pair of simple bikini panties that had little blue flowers on them. They were just as hot as any g-string, in his opinion.

Starting at her navel, he tongued the little indentation, loving the sound of her little mewls of pleasure. He licked a course to the edge of her panties, then took the fabric in his teeth. A growl escaped his chest as he yanked the panties down to her knees.

“Fuck, pet,” he whispered roughly as he gazed in awe at her.

She had kicked off her panties and he took the opportunity to spread her thighs so that she was completely open to him. Her scent was driving him mad, the heady musk permeating the air around them.

Dipping his head, he ran his tongue from bottom to top, swirling around the soft pink pearl of bundled nerves. Her hips jerked and he placed his hands on her abdomen to keep her still. He felt her fingers wrap around his hand as she struggled to hold on as the turbulent sensations shook her body.

“Nobody else is gonna make you feel this way, baby. Not like I can,” he said hotly before diving back down into her soft pussy.

He slid his tongue into her tight passage, tasting the source of the sweet river that flowed from her. She cried out as his tongue began the age-old rhythm of advance and retreat. A finger found her clit and began rubbing in a slow circular motion.

Her hands went to his head, running her fingers through the messy brown-blond curls and holding on tight. Her body began to tighten in anticipation for release and Spike doubled his efforts. His fingers and mouth switched places as his tongue found her clit, sucking on it, and two fingers slid home.

“Oh, Spike!”

Her muscles clenched around his fingers and she wailed out her completion, her fingers tightening in his hair near the point of pain. He continued to pump in and out of her as she came down slowly from her high, shudders washing over her as the aftershocks rolled on.

“Oh my God!” Buffy exclaimed breathlessly as she collapsed on the bed.

Spike smirked at her. “Good?”

She rolled her eyes. “Uh, yeah. Or did you miss the earth-shattering orgasm?”

“No, I caught that part,” he chuckled.

He watched as she sat up suddenly and ran her fingertips over the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “Do you want me to-”

“No. I’m fine. Besides, we really need to get packed up. It’s already after nine,” he told her, noticing the disappointment in her face.

Yeah, he was a little disappointed too. But it was true; they did have get packed up. The real reason, though, was that he was not going to allow her to accuse him of pushing her for sex. When she wanted to take it further, she would have to take the initiative.

He shifted uncomfortably as his cock hardened even more at the sight of her flushed and spent. Damn, this was going to be the death of him.

A/N: Banner by the wonderful effection! And I’m glad everyone is finally warming up to Oliver. Be prepared to see much more of him. Thanks for all the great reviews! You guys blow me away! Also, PA has been nominated for Spark and Burn Awards Round 2 for Best WIP, Best Romance, and Best Fantasy. Thanks to whoever nom’d me…you guys rock!











Was it possible that she really did want to make it work?

The night before, he’d had his doubts about her doing anything more than just saying the words. She had said them before, that they could try, and stupid him, he’d believed her. Then she had proceeded to stomp his heart into the ground.

But now, Spike wasn’t so sure she was going to back out this time.

She seemed happy this morning and he had a feeling that it had little to do with the oral gratification he had given her earlier. Well, he was sure some of it had to do with that, but she had acted different before he had gone down on her. But as much as he liked to believe his sexual talents had the ability to make her mood do a one-eighty, he knew there was something else going on with her.

“Are you excited?” She asked, practically bouncing with uncontained energy.

Spike lifted his guitar case onto the bus and gave her a confused look. “About what?”

“You know, about going to Phoenix. About getting back on stage. About-”

“Suddenly, I’m thinkin’ you’ve got me beat in the excitement department, pet,” he said, leaning back against the cool metal of the bus.

She frowned a little. “What’s wrong?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he glanced away. “Nothin’.” Then he turned back to her. “’s just, I thought you weren’t exactly thrilled t’ be on tour with me and now you’re actin’ like you are actually enjoyin’ it.”

“No, I-”

She was cut off when he gave her a pointed look.

“Well, fine, yeah. At first I was a little…apprehensive, but now I’m having fun. I mean, I’m here with you and I get to see the country. What’s not to love?” She gave him a bubbly smile.

God, did he want to believe her! That she was happy. With him. But the thing about his girl was he could never trust her to not change her mind. Sure, she said she was having fun and enjoying their time together, but when would that become an excuse for telling him he was pushing too hard?

Sighing, he lifted his hand up to brush a rebel strand of golden hair from her face. He really did love her. It had happened so fast that he was still trying to get his bearings, but the realization was a plain as day. Bloody head over heels in love and he didn’t want it to end.

She leaned into his touch as his hand cupped her cheek. “How about a kiss, Mr. Rockstar?”

His eyebrows shot up. She was asking him? “What? Right now?”

“Well, yeah,” she replied, her lips quirking up into a grin, her eyes sparking with mischief.

“I thought you said it wasn’t a good-”

Before he could finish his accusation, she threw herself against his body and smashed her lips over his. He stood there frozen for a moment before wrapping an arm around her waist and letting his hand drift down to grab one of her soft, ripe cheeks.

She squeaked, jumping a little and Spike felt her smile against his mouth. Okay, who the sodding hell was this girl and what had she done to his Buffy? Not that he was really complaining. He had the girl ready and willing in his arms while he snogged the breath out of her. It was not looking bad, not bad at all.

“Hey! Get a room!” Xander shouted at them before whistling loudly in appreciation.

Spike backed away first, much to his surprise. He gave her a quizzical head tilt as he searched her eyes for an explanation. All she did was grin and give him a quick peck on the lips.

Surely, the world had turned upside down or something. What else could explain it?

He watched as she jogged off towards Anya, who was struggling with her bags, her cell phone, and a clipboard.

“Have a good morning there, mate?” Oliver asked with a knowing smirk.

Spike frowned. How the hell-? “What do you know about it?”

“Not much, but you could always fill a bloke in.”

Rolling his eyes, Spike playfully shoved Oliver away. “Yeah, keep holdin’ your breath for that one.”





******




They had been on the road for a little over two hours, rolling through endless desert drenched in heavy rain.

Buffy couldn’t help but stare at Spike as he sat at the table, scribbling furiously in a beaten, battered notebook as his head nodded in time with whatever beat was filtering through the headphones covering his ears. His mouth was moving slightly and every now and then, he would look upwards, trying to find inspiration in the overhead cabinets.

There was something about his mad creativity that held her captive. She could practically feel the music pouring out of him, though she could not see or hear what he was composing. Holding her breath, she watched as he struggled for a moment before finally writing more, a look of pure rapture coming over his face as he found what he was searching his mind for.

“Are you completely enthralled yet?”

Buffy jumped slightly as she heard Oliver’s voice beside her ear. “Huh?”

Oliver grinned. “You look like you’re ready to follow the boy into the depths of Hell. You know what they say about friends jumping off bridges.”

“I don’t think I could ever do what he does,” Buffy replied, her gaze sliding back to Spike.

“Ah, it’s not so hard. Just like writing poetry.”

Buffy rolled her eyes before glancing at Oliver again. “I can’t write poetry either.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I have. I had to write poetry for my high school English class.”

Oliver snorted. “That’s not the same thing. You wrote poetry because you were required to. You should write because you want to.”

“You sound like the teacher that assigned that poetry in the first place,” Buffy told him with a smirk.

“I was going to be a teacher, you know,” Oliver said.

She could not picture him as a teacher. The teachers she had known did not have piercings everywhere or tattoos, nor did they wear t-shirts with scantily clad women straddling motorcycles proclaiming that the wearer ‘rode them hard and put them away wet’. The teachers she knew did not talk about sex like it was a recreation sport and have coke parties in their hotel rooms.

Although, to be fair, maybe if Oliver wasn’t so immersed in the clichéd world of rock-stardom, he might have been different.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

Buffy laughed. “Was it that obvious?”

“Just a tad.” Oliver smiled at her. “It wasn’t my true calling, obviously. My da had been a teacher and me mum, as well. Thought I should start a new family tradition. But I never was one for following the paths of others, so I left home and got a flat in London with a bunch of other blokes who were defying tradition too.”

“Is that where you met Dru?”

She felt bad for asking, like it wasn’t any of her business, but before she could even think about hold her tongue, the question had come tumbling out.

“Yes, the little trollop,” he replied with a huge grin. “She was seeing one of my flatmates at the time. Thought she was the most intriguing creature I’d ever come into contact with. I figured I was invisible to her, but one night she crawled into my bed and the rest, as they say, is history.”

Well, if Buffy had ever wondered about Dru’s faithfulness before Spike, Oliver’s story would have left little to ponder. But Buffy had always known that Dru’s only goal in life was finding her own pleasure, regardless of how her behavior affected everyone else.

Damn, she was really starting to hate her ex-employer.

“Did she leave you for…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced to Spike.

“No, not Will. Someone else.”

She gaped as his blasé response. “Didn’t you get mad?”

She would have been furious to find out she was being cheated on.

“Nah. It was what it was. Had some good times, me an’ her, but I wasn’t looking for anything serious.” He chuckled and shook his head. “She was right pissed when I didn’t come after her. Nailed a sodding cow heart to my door and wailed for hours in the hallway. Crazy bint.”

That was something uniquely Oliver. His ability to take a situation, that to any normal person would have been considered the shit hitting the fan, and find it…amusing. She seriously doubted his sanity sometimes. He was either crazy or the most sane person on the planet.

When Oliver lifted his head, though, his expression had darkened. His mouth was set in a grim line as he stared at Spike. “Found the perfect puppet, hadn’t she? Poor Will, who’d only ever really wanted to love her. But she used that to her advantage. Almost broke the boy.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to mention that Spike was only a couple of years younger than Oliver and that calling him ‘boy’ was a little strange. But it sounded right when he said it. Not disrespectful, just an acknowledgement that Oliver felt Spike hadn’t grown up yet.

“She didn’t though.”

Buffy had been worried for a while that perhaps Dru had done much more damage than Spike was letting on. That concern was quickly dissipating with each passing day as Spike seemed to be gaining his confidence back.

“No, but it’s not over. She’ll try. It’s what she’s good at.”

Yeah, she’d try, but she would have to get through Buffy first. She wasn’t going to let Dru hurt Spike again. And the bitch was going to pay.






******




Spike felt drained. Staring down at the bold blue words scrawled in his handwriting all over the notebook, he couldn’t shake the awe that had drawn him into a stupor. He had no idea where than sudden burst of inspiration had come from. And he was completely amazed.

The song he had written…it wasn’t about Dru. He couldn’t remember a time when he had written about anything other than Dru or his love for her.

It was cleansing. A sudden rush of open creativity bursting through him like he had never felt before. He felt free and unhindered. Like anything was possible.

“What?!” Anya screamed into her cell phone. “Which one?!”

The whole bus went quiet as they watched Anya slam her phone shut and stomp over to the television. She started flipping through the channels, ignoring Xander’s cry of protest.

“Anya! I haven’t seen that episode of Dragon Ball Z yet,” Xander whined.

“Shut up, Xander! This is more important than some dumb Japanese cartoon,” Anya growled out.

The satellite dish was something new this year. They didn’t have it on the last tour. But everyone was in agreement that they had to find something to keep Xander quiet through the long hours between gigs and the dish was the best solution.

“Ah-ha!” Anya exclaimed as she moved away from the television and sat down across from Spike.

“What’s this all-”

And then he saw her. Dru. And her poncey loverboy. Doing an interview with Kurt Loder.

All eyes turned to Spike except for Xander who threw a handful of popcorn at the screen and shouted, “BOOO!”

His heart was beating a mile a minute. The last time he had seen her was the day the court clerk had dropped off the divorce papers. She had been staked outside, eagerly awaiting his reaction. The evil glee playing her face as she clapped in excitement.

He felt Buffy’s small hand on his forearm and he glanced up at her.

“We can turn it off, Spike.” Her face was full of worry, just like the day he had hired her when his song had come on the radio. She knew how hard this was for him. His heart jumped a little at her concern for him.

He shook his head and swallowed hard. “No. It’s fine.”

She hovered for a few moments, unsure of what to do next, before Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him on the bench seat. He needed her with him and she must have sensed that because she squeezed his hand and leaned against him slightly.

“So we’re here with Drusilla Rayne and her boyf-”

“Fiancé,” Liam interjected.

The camera flipped to Kurt, who looked genuinely surprised. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Ms. Rayne, but aren’t you still married to-”

“As soon as my divorce is final, Liam and I will be getting married before God and country, Kurt,” Dru told the camera, a wicked smile curving her lips.

“Why is she doing this?” Buffy asked, shaking her head.

Anya turned away from the screen. “She’s trying to sway Spike’s fans to believe her. To ruin his reputation.”

“Bit bloody late for that, An’,” Spike said.

“C’mon, man, nobody believes that shit. Our fans think she’s nuts,” Xander told him.

“Despite claims that their marriage was caused by Spike’s infidelity and rumored physical abuse, fans seem to be on the side of the Dingo’s frontman,” Kurt’s voice stated as the screen showed dozens of street interviews and internet blog entries.

The video stopped on a group of twenty-something girls. “We don’t believe that Spike could do anything like that. If you just listen to his music, you can tell that she’s been the one who’s been fooling around. She’s completely nuts!”

Xander smirked. “Told ya.”

“So, Ms. Rayne, could you elaborate on your reasons for filing for divorce after five years of seemingly good marriage to Spike Giles?” Kurt asked.

“You don’t know what she was going through with that-BLEEP-, Kurt. If I hadn’t gotten her out when I did, who knows what would have happened,” Liam said, his hands waving dramatically in front of him.

Kurt seemed a bit annoyed at Liam’s blatant disregard for the question he’d asked.

Suddenly, Dru appeared to be tearing up and she sniffled. “It was so hard living with a man like Spike. He was so passionate about his work and when things didn’t go his way, he usually took it out on the only person around. Me.”

“That is such utter bullshit!” Buffy exclaimed, slamming her free hand on the table.

Everyone turned to stare at her and Buffy just shrugged. “Well, it is,” she said.

“You have insinuated that your husband-”

“Ex-husband,” Dru corrected.

“That your ex-husband has been involved in a number of elicit affairs. Do you have any comment?”

Dru looked to Liam, who made a big show of encouraging her to answer the question. “I always knew Spike had a unique taste sexually, but I never knew that he preferred other…other…” Dru forced a few sobs out before gaining her composure enough to say, “Men!”

At that, Oliver burst into laughter. It wasn’t seconds after he began that everyone else seemed to find what Dru had said to be the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

Spike wasn’t nearly as amused. The idea was ludicrous. He had no interest in men. He hadn’t had any interest in other women either while he was with Dru. It was the most ridiculous accusation he’d ever heard, but that didn’t make it all right.

Not only was the bloody bitch on national television spouting all of her bullshit to his fans, but she was doing it in a forum where he couldn’t defend his good name and set the record straight. Why hadn’t they called him?

As if on cue…

“They want you to do an interview with you, Spike,” Anya announced.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Anya huffed. “That’s what I’m doing right now. Besides, I just found out. How do you think I knew about Dru’s little interview? They just called and told me.”

He had never wanted this to become public. There had been so many celebrity break-ups lately and each one had turned into a media frenzy. He had never imagined that Dru would have gone this far for free publicity. A few tearful pity-me’s on Oprah, yeah, but never the outright lies she had been ‘confessing’.

He’d bet his autographed Springsteen guitar that Liam had convinced her to ‘tell all’. Sodding bastard! Oh, he was going down. And the bloody bitch too.

Now, all he needed was a plan. ‘Cause as far as he was concerned, this meant war.

A/N: ::waves:: Hi, long time no see! Many apologies on the lack of updates. The muse was stuck on skip. But in any case…here’s a brand new update for you. And I wanted to thank you all again for the wonderful, great, fantastic reviews on the last chapter. I hope I don’t disappoint. ~Jae









US Airways Center, Phoenix



There was a multitude of emotions coursing through Spike as he waited impatiently for the sound technicians to finish setting up the stage. Anger mostly with a tiny sprinkle of anticipation and the barest smidgen of heartache.

During the several hours it took for them to get to Phoenix, Spike had tried hard to get a handle on what exactly he was feeling in the wake of Dru’s little announcement. He didn’t want to hurt because of her any longer, but he couldn’t deny that a small part of him was still affected by her attempts to ruin him.

He had come to the realization that everything she had said the night she left was true. She hadn’t ever loved him. He was just a toy, a willing slave. He was someone who would obey her every command and cater to her every whim, no matter how insane the request may have been.

So, it was after hours of contemplation that he came to the conclusion that she had used and abused him and now was trying to royally fuck him over. Oh, yeah, he was enraged, seething with an anger he hadn’t felt ever, not even when Dru had all but paraded her lovers in front of him.

Any ridiculous notions of getting back together with her were blown completely out of the water after the stunt she had pulled this afternoon. Not that he’d had any real desire to go back into the snake pit anyway, but it wasn’t as if the thought had never occurred to him. But that was finished now. No more ‘what ifs’ or ’I wonder what woulds’. Dru and Spike were no more.

He was on edge and he could feel his inner monster trying to lash out. It was only a matter of time before some unsuspecting sod set him off. He just hoped it wasn’t Buffy.

Sighing, he leaned up against one of the large equipment cases. She had tried to get him to talk about Dru on the bus, but Spike had brushed her off. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to let her in; he did, just not now. Not when his emotions were still raw and he couldn’t shake the confusion that was still poking at him like a mean kid with a stick.

Buffy had a way of pouring salt in his wounds whether she knew she was doing it or not. And really, at this particular point, he really didn’t need any help in the pain department. Besides, he doubted she would understand.

They were so different from each other or at least that’s what she wanted him to believe anyway. He had a funny feeling he hadn’t met the real Buffy yet. The Buffy from this morning sure as hell wasn’t the girl he thought he knew. Not that he was complaining in the least, but it would be nice to know what to expect from her. He had lived with the queen of multiple personalities already and he wasn’t sure he could do it again with Buffy.

He loved her, yeah, but there was only so much a bloke could take before he went completely sack of hammers.

A shrill voice cut into his nerves and he looked up to see Anya stomping towards him. Bloody great, just what I need.

“Spike, we’ve got a problem.”

He gave her a droll stare and contemplated bumming a smoke off of Oliver. He had been trying to quit, but his willpower could only go so far.

“Yeah?”

“Lindsey just called me.”

Problem was right! When ever that little weasel called there was always trouble. That’s what happened when they let self-important wankers in the door and gave them a flashy name plate for their desk.

“They want us to let one of their up and comers do the opening act,” she said, glancing down at her clipboard. “Dead The Girl.”

“What kind of bloody name is that for a band?”

Anya rolled her eyes. “You do remember what the name of your band is, right?”

“You gotta problem with it, Anyanka?”

For a second, Spike was sure Anya was going to hit him over the head with her clipboard, but she just shook her head and muttered something about bloodying the merchandise.

“You’ll need to cut some songs from your set to give them time,” Anya said.

Spike frowned. She was actually serious about this. “Fans aren’t gonna like it.”

With a defeated sigh, Anya shrugged. “We don’t really have a choice. You know that.”

There wasn’t anything worse than being shackled and that’s exactly what it felt like to have his record company dictate how his music was going to be played or when or with who. It wasn’t the first time they had pulled something like this and the worst part about it was that he and the rest of the band wouldn’t have really minded had someone bothered to fill them in. This last minute bullshit was…well, bullshit.

“I’ll get with Olie. Figure somethin’ out.”

Anya nodded and turned to walk away, but suddenly spun around. “I almost forgot! They want to do that interview with you after the show.”

“Interview?”

“Yeah, you know, the one where you tell everyone you’re not gay.”

Oh, how could he forget? The sodding interview. It had sounded like a good idea at first, going on national television and defending his good name, but now he was dreading it. What the hell would he say? As much as he hated Dru right now, he wouldn’t be able to stoop to her level and spill all of the personal knowledge he had about her.

Normally, he was onboard with the whole eye for an eye type of retribution, but it was different with Dru. He had loved her, cared about her, and even respected her at some point. Which was why he wouldn’t be able to play her game, they had shared too much even if, in hindsight, it was slightly one-sided.

He was so buggared.






******






She supposed it was silly for her to be upset about Spike’s unwillingness to talk about Dru, but no one had ever accused Buffy of being rational when her emotions came into play.

Face it, Buffy, you’re jealous.

As much as she wanted to deny what the voice inside her head was saying, she knew it was true. She was jealous. Jealous that Dru still had power over Spike, even if it was only enough to make him think about her in passing. It was much more than that though.

Sure, Spike was always saying that Dru wasn’t a part of his life any more, that she didn’t matter or have any affect on his actions, but Buffy knew better. This afternoon was proof positive that Spike was still very much affected by the woman who had once been his everything.

And it just killed her.

The incessant ringing of her cell phone shook her out of her miserable thoughts. After glancing at the caller id, Buffy flipped the phone open and brought it to her ear.

“Buffy! I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon!” Dawn’s high-pitched voice screamed.

“Why? Are you okay? Did something happen?” Her heart stopped before it started into a heavy, fast beat that had adrenaline pumping through her veins.

“Yeah, something happened! Spike’s ex-ho bag wife was just on MTV! Did you see it?”

Buffy dropped the phone to her side, looking up at the ceiling and trying to find the divine aid that would keep her from killing her little sister. A moment and a couple of calming breaths later, Buffy returned the phone to her ear.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, Dawn! Jesus, I thought you were hurt or something,” Buffy said into the phone.

“I’m totally fine!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know that.” Sometimes Dawn could be so clueless.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Buffy replied as she felt her anger melt away. She could never stay mad at Dawn for long.

“So…” Dawn began slowly. “Did you see it?”

Buffy took a deep breath, and then sighed. “Yeah. We saw it.”

“We? As in you and Spike?”

“No, we as in me, Spike, and everyone on the bus except for the driver.”

“Crap, that sucks! Was he pretty upset about it?”

“I think so,” Buffy told her, moving to lean against the wall. She felt drained from the wild ride that had started long before the tour and suddenly, she didn’t have the strength to keep herself upright. Her back slid down the wall and she made a little ‘umph’ noise as her butt hit the hard cement floor.

“You think so?”

“Do you have to repeat everything I say?” Buffy asked, irritated to say the least. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Couldn’t you tell?”

“It’s not that easy. He’s kinda hard to read sometimes.”

“Well, duh! He is a guy, remember?”

Buffy laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”

Actually, Buffy didn’t really believe that. Spike wasn’t like any other man she had ever met and to chalk up his actions, or non-actions as the case may be, to being characteristic of the male species didn’t do him justice. He wasn’t the sort of man who shied away from his emotions and he normally had no problems with speaking his mind. Only with Dru was he aberrantly tight-lipped.

“Uh, Buffy…”

“What?”

“I thought you said you had no interest in hooking up with Spike.”

Before she could even think about what she was saying the words just tumbled out. “I don’t.”

“Then how come you’re all kissy face with him?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Buffy, there are pictures all over the internet of you and Spike making out.”





******





Spike placed a finger to his ear, dulling the outside sounds as he began to sing. This was what he needed, a good wail to let some of the excess emotion spill away and allow him to clear his mind.

They had finally come to an agreement about which songs to cut from the second set, but Spike hadn’t been lying when he’d said the fans wouldn’t be happy. The fans didn’t spend their hard-earned money to see some pop-punk wannabes that hadn’t gotten much radio play especially since no one had bothered to tell them there would even be an opening act.

Most of the time, the Dingoes’ concert-goers bypassed the opening act unless they were touring with a well-known band like Shy or Fall Out Boy.

Spike just hoped this band didn’t suck as much as the last rising-star group they’d been saddled with. Sodding wankers hadn’t even written their own material, they were like the rock equivalents of New Kids On The Block. Bloody freak show actually. He still couldn’t get the glitter off the bottom of his favorite Doc Martens from that torturous fourteen-week stretch.

Feeling a sharp poke in his side, he snapped his head to the offending person with every intention of ripping the idiot a new one. It was Oliver.

“What?!”

Oliver’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, excuse me, your majesty. I didn’t mean to offend. Thought you might want a head’s up seeing as your girl is looking mighty pissed and heading straight for you. So sorry, I interrupted.”

Glancing in the direction that Oliver was pointing to, Spike saw Buffy marching towards the stage. Bloody hell, she does look pissed. What did I soddin’ do now?

Spike hopped down off the stage and tried to meet her halfway. He really didn’t fancy having the rest of the staff getting an earful of something that most likely was none of their business.

“Buffy, what’s wrong, luv?” He asked as they finally came together.

“There’s pictures!” She shouted, her hands flying up.

Uh…? His brow furrowed. “Pictures?”

“Yeah! Pictures! Of us!”

Oh, this couldn’t be good.

“What kind of pictures?”

Her expression turned completely miserable as her hands dropped to her sides and she let out a huge breath. “From that day on the Strip. God, Spike, they’re all over the internet.”

Fuck! So much for anonymity.

He wasn’t surprised she was so upset. First time they had ever taken pictures of him and splashed them all over every media outlet, he’d felt violated and angry that someone would invade his private life like that. Difference was, he was famous and on some level, his life was on display to the public. Pictures and media coverage were part of the territory for him. But Buffy wasn’t a celebrity and as much as she may have gotten used to the media when she had worked for Dru, she’d never been the target.

Stepping towards her, he pulled her into the comfort of his arms. His hands ran over her back and he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, kitten.”

She pulled away just enough that she could look up at him. “You’re not angry?”

His thumb traced the soft flesh of her lower lip, wanting nothing more than to kiss away her worries. “I’m right pissed that you have to go through this, luv.”

“But what about Dru? Can’t she use this against you?”

Spike chuckled. “How? I think her claims that I’m involved with men just got shot down now that there seems t’ be evidence t’ the contrary.”

Buffy didn’t seem very amused. “I’m serious, Spike.”

“So am I,” he replied. When she didn’t loosen up, he grabbed a hold of her shoulders and held her away from him so that he could look into her eyes. “Buffy, I don’t care who knows we’re together. I’d shout it t’ the world if I could. There is nothin’ about us that Dru could use against me. Not legally and not in the media. Even if she could, I wouldn’t give a soddin’ damn because nothin’ is gonna change the way I feel about you.”

Her hazel eyes lit up brightly. “Really?”

He tilted his head and shook it slightly. After all the shit they’d been through in the past weeks and she still questioned how he felt about her? The drive to find out what exactly had made this amazing woman so unsure of herself was almost consuming, but he knew that she still needed time.

“Really,” he replied emphatically.

The smile that curved her lips quickly spread across the rest of her face, lighting it up so that she was almost glowing. Now that definitely made his day better.

“I’m sorry about the pictures, luv. I can’t tell you that it won’t ever happen again ‘cause I know it probably will, but we can be more careful next time. And as soon as this whole bloody mess with Dru is over, the media frenzy will most likely die down,” he told her.

She looked down for a second. “It’s gonna get worse, isn’t it?”

It would get worse. Knowing Dru, she’d milk the attention for all it was worth and she wouldn’t give a damn who she hurt in the process. And Spike wouldn’t put it past the crazy bint to take Buffy’s new relationship with him personally. Of course, he really didn’t think Dru knew what she was getting herself into if she decided to pick a fight with his golden girl.

Actually, he was almost looking forward to that battle. Maybe Buffy would knock Dru off her high horse and into the mud where she belonged.

“It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“Okay.” She leaned forward and in a move that had him wanting to tackle her, she softly brushed her lips across his.

“Gonna kill me. I know it.”

She laughed. “Can I watch you rehearse?”

“Best audience a bloke could have,” Spike said, grinning at her. “Maybe later, I can give you a private performance.”

“Oh, I’d definitely be up for that.”













If anyone is interested in getting update notices for my WIPs…just follow the link: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/jaesha_fics/

A/N: I cannot believe that the last time I updated this was in February! I hope I haven’t lost any of you. I know how frustrating it can be when an author doesn’t update their story regularly. Thanks for all my tried and true faithfuls. I’ll try hard not to disappoint.









The rain from Las Vegas had finally followed them over to Phoenix a couple of hours ago, steadily beating on the huge roof of the US Airways Center. Earlier everyone had been in a rush to finish setting up and anxious to get on stage, but once the rain began, the pace had begun to slow into a smooth and comfortable slide.

Even the music had been toned down to suite the mood of the weather outside. The rock hard sound that usually accompanied the Dingoes’ music was thickened and muted so that it was almost unplugged. On more than one song, Spike had traded his electric guitar for the simpler sound of his acoustic, weaving notes rather than yanking them out.

Buffy had to admit that the new sound was due not only to the rain but to the opening band as well. They had been horrible. Oliver had called them ‘emo rolled in death metal with a slight hint of bluegrass’, whatever that meant. Either way, after the screaming gargles and screeching noises had finally ended, everyone was under the agreement that the fans needed to hear something a little less abrasive.

The fans seemed to enjoy the new take on the music even though most of them had come thinking they’d hear their favorite radio single.

“What are you doin’, luv?”

Turning around, Buffy found Spike leaning against the doorjamb of the dressing room, a lazy smirk on his face. He looked exhausted, but that didn’t seem to bother him much.

“Just hanging out,” she replied, her hands coming up to rub her arms.

He hummed before pushing away from the door and walking to her. “So, I’ve got that interview in a few minutes. Do you wanna come?”

The debate in her head didn’t last very long. She really didn’t want to sit and listen to him answer questions about Dru for an hour even though she was really curious about what he had to say on the subject. Truth was she was a little upset that he could tell the entire world about what he was feeling but had yet to mention anything to her.

“No thanks. I’ll just wait,” she told him. She added a small smile when he frowned, hoping to discourage him from asking why.

“Are you sure?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

He stared at her for a long time, his bright blue eyes searching hers for the reason, but he couldn’t find it. “Everything okay, pet?”

Sighing, Buffy nodded again. “I’m fine, just a little tired.”

Reaching out, he picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. Buffy closed her eyes at the sensation of his mouth on her skin. It never ceased to amaze her how he could affect her so easily. That one simple gesture had ignited her skin, heat coursing from her hand outward towards the rest of her sensitive nerve endings.

“I want t’ kiss you, Buffy,” he said breathlessly. He hadn’t released her hand yet, his fingertips caressing the soft skin they found.

“So, why don’t you?”

He chuckled. “Well, I jus’ wanna make sure you’re not gonna knock me in the mouth afterwards.”

Her heart ached at his admission. She was the one had caused his hesitance and it killed her that she had so callously played with his emotions that way. It had never been her intention to hurt him, but that mattered little now. Instead of just coming out and saying that she was scared to get that close to him, she pushed and pulled until he no longer knew what to expect from her.

God, she was turning out to be a horrible girlfriend.

Girlfriend? Is that what she was? They hadn’t really discussed the dynamics of their relationship or whatever the hell they had was. Did they really need to? She wasn’t sure they needed to define what they were to one another. They were just taking this thing one day at a time so there was really no need to rush into some serious commitment, right?

“I’m not going to hit you for kissing me, Spike. I-I want you to kiss me.”

Despite her invitation, he still looked worried. Not that she could really blame him. How many times had she said one thing and done another? It was no wonder the man was so confused.

Spike took a few steps towards her and tentatively slipped his arms around her waist. When she wrapped her own arms around him, he grinned, knowing that his affection was indeed being accepted and returned.

He dipped his head down and brushed his lips against hers. “I wish I didn’t have t’ go. I’d rather be with you,” he said before his tongue flicked out to moisten the entrance to her mouth.

“Really?”

He pulled back and stared at her. “O’ course. Christ, Buffy, do you really have t’ ask?”

“I…it’s just that I’ve treated you so bad and-”

“It doesn’t matter now. You’re with me an’ that’s all I care about. What ever happened before, I-” He shook his head. “Can’t we jus’ forget about it? I’m tired o’ walkin’ on eggshells around you, Buffy. I love you an’ I want t’ be with you. If you want the same thing, then let’s start over an’ forget all the bad stuff.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“That’s because it is. I can’t keep worrying that you’ll suddenly decide you don’t want t’ do this. So, either you want me or you don’t. If you do, then we’ll wipe the slate clean. If you don’t…” His eyes pleaded with her not to make him finish that sentence.

Could he really just forget all the horrible things that she had said and done? His ability to forgive was famous. How many times had he forgiven Dru for running around on him? But Buffy couldn’t help thinking that she didn’t deserve his forgiveness and even if he could forget, could she?

Buffy let out a heavy breath. She did want to be with him and she wasn’t going to deny that anymore, but could she promise not to hurt him again? She wanted to say yes even though the voice in her head was telling her no.

“I do, Spike,” she told him. “But-”

“No, you do or you don’t. No ‘buts’ this time. It’s an either/or deal, luv.”




******





Spike looked up at the blinding lights, spots forming behind his eyes. This was the last bloody place he wanted to be right now. He didn’t want to answer stupid questions about Dru or his sexual preference. All he wanted to do was spend some time with his girl.

A chuckle escaped from his chest. Buffy had really had him worried there for a minute. He thought for sure she’d crawl back into herself and push him away again after he had all but demanded an answer about her wanting to be with him. But she had shocked the hell out of him, yet again.

It was strange how the tables had turned. There was a time when Buffy would have been considered the strong one, the rock. Now, Spike seemed to be holding everything together.

Despite what everyone else may have thought, it hadn’t all been about Dru this afternoon. Sure, Dru was on his mind, but it was Buffy that really had him thinking. Much of the remaining hours on the bus after the interview had been used mulling over his relationship with Buffy.

He was pretty sure he had figured out why she ran so hot and cold. The what, why, and who he didn’t know, but he was confident that he knew the how. She was scared of getting hurt again.

“Hi there, Mr. Giles. I’m Joe Garner, the producer.” The guy offered his hand before continuing. “Have you met Kurt before?”

Spike glanced up at Kurt and nodded. “Yeah, we did that documentary thing last year with you, right?”

“Right. It’s nice to see you again, Spike. I wish it was under better circumstances though,” Kurt replied, taking the seat across from Spike.

“Me too, mate, me too.”

“So, I had your manager look over the questions beforehand. She said they were all fine, but you can read through them if you’d like.”

Spike glanced over at Anya, who just nodded spastically. That was his cue to get this thing rolling apparently. “No, it’s fine. Let’s just get this done.”




******



Buffy glanced at her watch and grimaced. She really needed to talk to Dawn but it was really late, almost eleven.

Ten minutes later, she was still staring at her watch and playing with her cell phone.

“Screw it!” She muttered as she flipped the phone open and dialed Dawn’s number.

It took a couple of rings but finally a groggy voice answered. “Hello?”

“Dawn?”

“Buffy? What’s going on?”

Slumping against the cushions of the couch, Buffy sighed in relief. “Nothing. I’m fine, I just really needed to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Me and Spike.”

Suddenly, Dawn didn’t sound so sleepy. “What happened? Did you guys hook up?”

“Well, remember how I said that I wasn’t at all interested in him?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s kinda not true.”

Dawn squealed. “I knew it! You little Spike groupie!”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “No, not a groupie. Trust me, there’s no way in hell I could ever be considered a groupie.”

“Whatever. Did you sleep with him?”

“Dawn! I can’t believe you just asked me that!”

“Whaaat’s the big deal? I am legally an adult now, you know. I can discuss sex with my older sister if I want to and you didn’t answer the question,” Dawn replied.

“We-I-not exactly.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this before.”

Buffy sighed. “Yeah, well, I was trying to tell myself nothing was going on.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That you’ve been living in denial since Parker.”

“I have not!” Buffy exclaimed, slapping her palm against the cushions.

“Oh, you so have. I hate to tell you, Buffy, but the reason none of your relationships have lasted is because you’ve put yourself on the emotional defensive from day one. Not every man is like that prick Parker.”

Okay, since when did her baby sister start talking like a sailor?

“I never said every man was like Parker.”

“No, you didn’t have to say it; you just treated them that way.”

“I did not!”

Dawn groaned in frustration. “I can name at least four guys that you dated that worshipped the ground you walked on and you treated them like shit. You found a reason to dump each and every one of them, but guess what? It was all a bunch of BS. In the end, you dumped them because you were too scared to let anyone in, not because they were horrible boyfriends.”

Buffy’s eyes began to fill with unshed tears. God, she was right! Every word of it.

“Buffy, he dumped you six years ago. When are you going to let it go?”




******




“Did you physically abuse your wife?”

Spike took a deep breath. He had known that the questions would be this straight forward, but he hadn’t really prepared himself for it.

“No, completely untrue. I never laid a hand on Dru,” he replied.

“Why do you think she would say that you did then?” Kurt asked, trying his best to be both considerate and thorough.

Spike shrugged. “I don’t know, but then there’s a lot about Dru that I don’t understand.”

“How do you feel about the allegations of infidelity?”

“I never cheated on my wife, Kurt. And I certainly have never had any relations with men, so I’m not sure where she’s comin’ up with these accusations that I had some secret double life. I was completely faithful t’ her even before we got married.”

“But it has been rumored that Drusilla has had relationships outside of your marriage, isn’t that correct?”

Nodding, Spike looked down at his hands. “No man wants t’ admit that his wife went out seekin’ other partners, but I’d be lyin’ if I said that it wasn’t true. She had admitted t’ me on a couple o’ different occasions that she was seein’ other people.”

“And yet, she was the one who filed for a divorce.”

“I wanted t’ work it out, but she had already made her mind up to leave,” Spike said, shaking his head.

“Is it hard to see her with another man?”

Spike laughed nervously. “That’s a difficult question.”

A few minutes passed as Spike tried to figure how out he really felt. He supposed it hurt the most in the beginning, seeing her flaunting her new guy, knowing that she had really left him for someone else.

“-but now? No, it’s not hard at all. If she wants t’ be with someone else and he makes her happy, then I can only wish them the best of luck.” Sodding bastard is gonna need it after she gets through with him.

Kurt smiled then jumped into another line of questioning. “The pictures. Who is she?”

Spike and Anya had both agreed that it would be best to keep Buffy’s name out of the press for now. Eventually, they would have to deal with their relationship being in the spotlight, but for right now, he could keep her anonymity safe.

“That would be my girlfriend,” Spike said cryptically.

“Can you tell me anything about her?”

“She saved my life.”





A/N: I absolutely agonized over this chapter and I’m still not that happy with the way it turned out. Hopefully, inspiration will strike again soon. Thanks for sticking with me! ~ Love, Jae

Sunnydale, 2000




“C’mon, Buffy. I’m not ready for any of this.”

Buffy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could he stand there with that look on his face and tell her he didn’t want to be with her? He expected her to understand, to just automatically ‘get’ where he was coming from.

Yeah, well, she didn’t.

“I don’t understand,” she said numbly, shaking her head slightly.

He smiled sweetly. “You’ve got this whole deal with taking care of your sister and I’m just not ready to settle down and play house.”

“Play house? Do you think this is what I wanted? I never asked for any of this to happen,” she ground out. Her anger was winning its battle over her anguish and confusion.

“No, of course, I don’t think you asked for it, Buffy. Nobody wants their parent to die and leave them holding the bag.” His brown eyes were shining with compassion that only went down as far as the clear surface. It was an expression she had seen on him before, but she had never allowed herself to believe it was superficial…until now. “But I have to be strong. As much as I care for you, I can’t let myself be dragged into this.”

“Care? You told me you loved me.”

A little ‘aww’ noise escaped his mouth as he leaned over and patted her on the shoulder. “I do, Buffy. Just not that way. We’re friends, right?”

Her breath lodged itself in her lungs and refused to budge. It had meant nothing to him. She had given herself to him and it meant nothing. How could he have lied to her? He’d fed her all of that…bullshit! about how much he loved her and just wanted to make her feel better when all he’d really wanted was to get into her pants.

“You asshole!” It was low and gravelly, her chest shaking with the emotion that threatened to burst out even further. From the way he jumped, he seemed to be as shocked as she at the uncharacteristic tone her voice had taken on.

Suddenly, his demeanor changed. Gone was the sympathetic smile and kind-looking eyes. His face was cold and hard while his eyes darkened to glassy black.

“Oh, get over it! Jesus, Buffy, I thought you were adult enough to handle this, but I guess I was wrong. But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at all. I should have known you’d be immature about this after the less-than-stellar performance you gave a couple of weeks ago,” he spat out with a sneer curling at his lip.

Her head lowered to one side. “What?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “You really wanna know why I don’t want you, Buffy? I’ll tell you.”

“What?” Nothing was making sense anymore.

“God, you really are dense, aren’t you?” He shook his head in disgust. “You sucked, okay? And not in a good way since I couldn’t get your virginal mouth past my waist. You’ve got a lot to learn, Buff, but unfortunately for you, I’m not looking for a trainee.”

A furious blush spread across her cheeks and she glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Her eyes stopped on the smiling face of Dawnie as she sat, oblivious to the verbal lashing Buffy was receiving, at one of the food court tables eating her ice cream.

“Why did you lie to me?” She asked, her gaze sliding back to him.

“Would you have given it up if I’d said that I was only interested in fucking you?”

She didn’t need to answer him. He already knew the answer to that just as he had months ago when this whole thing had started. He’d played her and she had fallen for every word and every insincere smile that he had in his repertoire.

God, she couldn’t even really be that angry at him. Oh, she was furious, that was for damn sure, but not at him. The oldest trick in the book and she had blindly fallen for it.

With a sigh, his expression changed again. “Look, I didn’t want it to be this way. We’re just not…compatible, Buffy. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

“Sure,” she replied sadly. “Whatever you say. Bye, Parker.”




******



Phoenix, 2006




Her hair was wet and plastered to one side of her head, cold droplets sliding down the blond strands to drip under the collar of her shirt. A shiver ran down her spine and goose bumps flared up over her pale, translucent skin. It was freezing, but she couldn’t muster up the strength to care.

They were magic words, it seemed. Saying goodbye had made the door shut to her emotions. When she’d turned on her heel and walked away, she hadn’t shed one more tear. Not for him and not for anyone since.

Until now.

The hot tears washed over her cold cheeks, warming them but not the rest of her frigid body. If anything, her tears left her even emptier than she had been before.

She had promised herself not to let him break her, but in the end, that is exactly what she’d let him do. Not through heartache, though. Every day that passed the more distant and detached she became. It was through her own self-preservation that he turned her into what she feared most.

She was the empty shell of what she used to be.

Looking back, she could see it now; the change from Buffy Summers to someone unrecognizable. Certain things stood out boldly, waving a red flag at her as if trying to warn her that she was damaging not only herself but the people around her. She had said and done things that made her sick to her stomach, things that shouldn’t have been forgiven.

Her cell phone rang suddenly and she jumped a little at the sound. Glancing down at the display, another sob escaped her throat. It was Dawn.

Instead of answering it, she let it slide out of her hand and onto the wet asphalt. She couldn’t talk to Dawn, not now. It was too much to handle, the emotions that she had kept so carefully buried now swimming to the surface and making her feel out of control.

Her heart was pounding fast and her breathing came out in short bursts as her hand clutched at her shirt. The world was spinning…spinning….spinning…




******





Spike was giving into the urge.

With a sigh, he tapped the pack of cigarettes against his palm before flipping it around and fishing one out. It was just pure weakness on his part, but even as he scolded himself for not having more self-control, he placed the cigarette between his lips and struck a match anyway.

He was a private person by nature. It was really nobody’s business how he lived his personal life and until tonight, he had never spoken of it to the press. His nerves were shot and his skin threatened to break out in a cold sweat over the details he had spilled.

Despite his assurances to Buffy that he didn’t care, a large part of him worried how Dru was going to use his words against him. It was becoming more and more real as the days wore on. She was out to ruin him and he had no illusions about her capability to do so.

It wasn’t so much him that he was concerned with, but the band and Buffy. Dru had no scruples when it came down to it. She would do whatever she needed to if it helped her to accomplish her goal even if it meant hurting innocent people.

At this point, he was ready just to give the sodding bitch what she wanted if it got her out of his life.

His lungs filled with smoke and a surge of nicotine went to his brain, making his body sag in relief. He was getting pretty tired of all this damned tension. It wasn’t like he expected it to be easy, but he really wished someone would cut him some slack already.

With any luck, Buffy would finally stop tugging on the rope long enough to let him in. She said she would, but Spike knew better than anyone that what Buffy said isn’t always what she did.

He loved her. For all of her stubbornness and hypocritical bullshit, he loved her anyway. He just wished that she would accept that and stop keeping him at arm’s length.

They certainly had their problems, but that didn’t stop Spike from daydreaming about a life with her. About maybe getting married and having a couple of sprogs. About a home that was filled with love and laughter like he had had during his childhood. About Christmases and puppies and vacations to Disneyland.

He felt himself smiling despite the craziness of the idea. Oliver was right. He wasn’t built for the rockstar life, too soft in the middle, he guessed.

Dropping what was left of his cigarette to the ground, he set off towards the bus. Next stop was New Mexico…Albuquerque, if he wasn’t mistaken. There was a lot of ground to cover and time was a-wasting.

Just as he turned the corner, an odd sound caught his attention. It was faint, but high-pitched enough to be heard over the sound of passing cars on the street next to the arena. He turned back to the side of the building and made his way along the wall, the sound becoming louder the further he went.

It was bloody stupid for him to be wandering around in the dark by himself. He knew what kind of nasties tended to lurk in hidden corners, had had the displeasure of running across them a time or two when he was in London. And yet, the sound drew him in and wouldn’t let go until his curiosity was satisfied.

His brow furrowed. Now that he thought about it, the noise was really familiar, but he’d be damned if he could place it.

It was her hair he caught sight of first. Wet, blond strands shimmering in the slight light that peered through the passing rain clouds.

“Buffy!”

He ran, sliding down into the pavement to get to her unmoving body. His hands and eyes searched for any signs of injury as he picked her head off the sidewalk and cradled it in his lap.

His heart was beating a mile a minute. “Buffy, baby, c’mon an’ wake up. I need you t’ wake up for me, luv. C’mon!”

God, he couldn’t lose her! Not now!





******





Oliver rubbed his tired green eyes before glancing around the room. They’d been in the waiting area of the emergency room for almost two hours now without any word on how Buffy was doing and right about now, everyone was getting pretty impatient. Well, impatience was a mild word to describe Spike’s constant pacing and cursing, but everyone else was handling it pretty well.

“Why ‘aven’t they told us anythin’ yet? I ‘ave a bloody right t’ know what the soddin’ ‘ell is goin’ on, dammit!” Spike all but shouted, his pacing becoming frantic.

“Calm down, Spike. They’ll come out and tell us after they’ve finished running all the tests,” Xander replied, trying to calm the upset Brit.

With a sigh, Oliver stood up and walked into Spike’s path, his hands coming up to grasp his friend’s shoulders. “I think we need a fag, mate. Let’s take a walk outside.”

For a minute it looked like Spike was going to argue with him, but instead he just let his head fall in defeat and allowed Oliver lead him out to the designated smoking area.

Oliver pulled out two cigarettes and handed one to Spike before flipping out his lighter, leaning over to offer the flame to Spike before lighting his own.

He let the rich flavor of the tobacco settle over his tongue before blowing the smoke out from his lungs and glancing over at a weary-looking Spike. “Truth time, then, is it?”

Spike shook his head slowly. “I can’t lose her, Olie.”

“I gathered that from the scene you were making back there.”

“She was fine when I left her. God, I shoulda made her come with me,” Spike said.

Oliver rolled his eyes. “I know you’re not about to tell me this was your fault.”

“It’s not? She was actin’ strange an’ I-” He swallowed back the emotion. “All I could do was hassle her about commitment or some rot.”

“Back to that again? I thought that was all said and done.”

Spike chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, well, so did I. But every time I think were makin’ progress, she changes her mind. Two steps forward an’ three steps back.”

“We’re all damaged, Will. Some of us more than others,” Oliver mused, glancing up into the black night. “The girl’s got her demons, that’s for sure. Problem is she’s the only one who can face them. You can’t blame yourself for not being able to slay her dragons.”

“But she saved me.”

Oliver’s gaze rolled back over to Spike. “You,” he began, pointing his cigarette in Spike’s direction, “saved yourself, Will. Let’s give credit where credit is due. You got your sorry ass back to reality. She was just a dry rock while you were drowning.”

Spike shook his head. “No, I would be six feet under by now if it wasn’t for her.”

Shrugging, Oliver just looked back up to the sky. “Think what you want, but you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped and you certainly can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. It starts with you just like it starts with her. She has to want to be saved, mate. And she has to realize that she needs saving.”

Just as Spike opened his mouth to respond, Xander came jogging out of the automatic doors. “Doc just came in. He’s waiting for you.”





******





“Ms. Summers is fine.”

Spike felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulders when he heard those words.

“All of her tests came back normal including her CAT scan and there was no injury that we could see beyond a slight bruising from the collapse. Apparently, Ms. Summers was under some emotional stress and I believe she had an anxiety attack that caused her to hyperventilate and faint,” the doctor explained.

“But she’s okay?” Spike asked, needing more reassurance.

The doctor smiled. “Yes, she’s perfectly okay. We’ll be releasing her as soon as the paperwork is processed. I’ve given her a prescription for the anxiety attacks that she’ll need to get filled as soon as possible.”

“Tonight. I’ll make sure it gets filled tonight,” Spike replied a bit frantically.

“Okay, good,” the doctor said with a warm smile before taking his leave and going back into the ER.

Thoughts were swimming wildly in his head, had been since the minute he realized it was Buffy’s unconscious form lying on the pavement. First, it had been frantic fear and a panic that he couldn’t shake, then once they arrived at the hospital, it had morphed into anxious worry and now…now it was a deliberate focus.

“Anya, can you find us a hotel for the night?” He asked, looking over at her frazzled form in the corner.

“For everyone?”

Before Spike could respond, Oliver spoke up. “Nah, sweets. The rest of us can head onward to the next city. No need to hold up the entire wagon train.”

“What about the show tomorrow?”

“I don’t bloody care about the show,” Spike told her harshly.

He really didn’t give a damn. All he cared about was making sure Buffy was okay and if he had to cancel every show to do it, he would.

“But-”

“Anya, let’s worry about it later. If we need to postpone the show, then that’s what we’ll do,” Oliver said with an uncharacteristic softness. “Family comes first.”

Anya looked around the room, a questioning expression on her face. One by one everyone nodded, reiterating Oliver’s statement.

“Okay.” Anya’s face set to resolve as she picked up her cell phone and began making arrangements.










A/N: Many apologies for the delay in posting. I’m not going to bore you with the details, but I’ve been sick and am now just beginning to get over it. If anyone is interested in the what’s and why’s, it’s posted on my LJ.

Hope you enjoyed this latest update and as always, feedback makes me do the Snoopy Dance. ~ Love, Jae

Intense blue crashed into fiery green as Buffy walked through the doors leading to the emergency room waiting area. It made her weak in the knees, the rawness of his gaze, and she almost felt them give way beneath her. Her steps slowed as her shoulder leaned into the wall beside her and she slid across the painted surface for a few feet before coming to a stop.

He stood up, a smooth upward motion and for a moment, he just stared at her. His expression was unreadable save for the strength of the emotion that came off of him in bright waves. Even from fifteen feet away, she could feel it radiating from his tense body.

Then he started towards her, his stride confident and determined. Once he reached her, he paused again and just searched her face, stormy sea-colored eyes darting from the top of her head to her lips over her cheekbones and upwards until their gazes met.

Her breath was coming in short pants and her heart was beating so fast she was sure it was going to beat right out of chest. There were too many feelings coursing through her that she couldn’t discern one from another. They were just bonding together to create one overwhelming emotion that threatened to pull her apart at the seams.

His hands grasped her shoulders briefly before she was pulled into his warm and safe embrace. A bubble of relief in the form of a sob surfaced and for the first time since before her mother died, she gave herself over to someone else. To Spike.

She buried her face into his chest, the cool, black leather of his coat brushing against her cheek and giving her a better place to hide. His arms held her trembling body and took the burden of her weight, almost lifting her off of the floor.

His scent was a comforting mixture of tobacco and spice and Buffy couldn’t help but to lose herself in it. She had needed him and she hadn’t even realized it. It wasn’t until now…just now…that her mind grasped the concept. She needed him.

The silent admission went straight to her heart and she clutched at him tighter.

He leaned in and buried his nose in her tangled hair before setting a kiss upon the crown of her head. “Fuck, baby. You scared me so bad,” he murmured against her.

She had scared herself, too. Of course, with his words, she felt an even heavier guilt settle onto her shoulders. How could she have done that to him? What was wrong with her? Why was she always hurting him?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back. “God, I am so sorry, Spike.”

He pulled away suddenly, setting her at arm’s length. His dark eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. “Sorry for what, kitten? It wasn’t your fault.”

Buffy bit at her lower lip to keep from bursting out into hysterical cries as she shook her head. “It was my fault. It was all my fault. I’m so sorry, Spike. I just keep doing things to hurt you and you forgive me every time.”

“Luv, you’re not making much sense. Maybe we should get you to the hotel so you can rest,” he told her.

Hotel?

“We’re not going to Albuquerque?”

Spike frowned. “No, you need your rest. I’m not gonna have you travelin’ like this.”

With that, Buffy finally could not contain herself any longer and a flood of tears began rolling down her cheeks.

“Buffy?” Spike pulled her back into his embrace. “What’s wrong? C’mon, luv, tell me.”

“I’m ruining everything!”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “You are not.”

“Yes, I am! I’m making your life a living hell and now you’re here with me when you should be in New Mexico getting ready for your next concert. You should just leave me here,” she said miserably.






******




Spike wanted to shake those stupid notions right out of her, but he chose to just hold her instead. It meant a lot to him that even in the face of her own problems, she continued to focus on the ‘strain’ she was putting on him.

Okay, so she was being a bit dramatic. She wasn’t ruining anything and she certainly wasn’t making his life hell. He had learned that she wasn’t the easiest person to be with and she did make things more difficult than they needed to be, but she made up for it every time she smiled at him and every time she touched him.

It was worth it. Every argument and frustration was worth it because he loved her. And while she may not be returning the sentiment now, there was a silent hush of promise in her voice every time he pleaded with her to love him back.

He understood her fear. It was difficult to open yourself up to someone when there was a chance that they might hurt you. Spike had no intentions of hurting her, but he had little doubt that whomever she let in before him had taken her trust and abused it.

Once bitten, twice shy.

Spike supposed that he should be the same way, but he was too stupid for self-preservation. It was the hope of finding someone to share his life with that overrode all fail-safes. He needed someone to give himself to, someone to take care of, someone to bring him into existence. Without that, he was nothing.

He was desperate for Buffy to feel about him the way he felt about her. To be loved and cherished and wanted. So, he would give her everything he had, even if it was the death of him. That was the only way to make her realize that he was in it for the long haul, that he wasn’t going to walk out on her or stomp on her heart.

“Can’t leave you here, Buffy. Who’d be there t’ inspire me, huh?” He asked softly.

“You don’t need me to inspire you, Spike. All of your songs are about Drusilla, you don’t need me,” she replied with a scowl.

His eyebrows shot up at that. Was she jealous that all of his songs were about Dru? “That’s exactly the reason I need you. Do you really think I want t’ sing about her for the rest of my life? I want her out o’ my life, Buffy, but the only way I can do that is by writin’ her out an‘ that‘s gonna take some time.”

She glanced up at him, the smile playing on her lips never quite making it to her eyes. “I have to get this prescription filled.”

A snort of laughter accompanied a shake of his head. There she was. He was beginning to wonder when the wall would be coming back up. It hadn’t taken nearly as long as he thought it was going to.

“Right then.” He had been expecting it, but that didn’t stop the disappointment he felt. God, just once, he wished he could talk to her without her changing the subject when the conversation turned personal.

“What?” She had the nerve to use that demanding tone with him and he glared at her.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Buffy. You know what. You’ve known what for a long time now.”

She rolled her eyes a little before sighing. “If I knew what, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Ha!” He pointed at her. “You think that’s gonna work? Not this time, sweetheart. I’m on t’ your little game. You think that if you pretend you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about that I’m jus’ gonna drop it.”

“Spike,” she warned.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not this again, Buffy. You can’t hold on t’ me for dear life one minute and push me away the next. It doesn’t work like that.”

“I’m not-”

“Somethin’ happened t’ you tonight, luv. It scared me t’ death an’ we both know it scared you too. Why don’t you let me in?” His voice began to falter slightly as tears began to form behind his eyes…again. “I can help you, but not when you keep pushin’ me away every time I get close enough t’ see where you live.”

That stopped any protests that were at the ready and her mouth snapped shut. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and lost, her green eyes sparkling with flecks of gold and shards of crystal.

“Why do you even care?” It had no malice or razor-sharp edginess. It was just a question. An honest question.

His eyes narrowed and his head tilted slightly to the right. “Because you did. Because everyone needs savin’ once in their lives. Because I love you.”




******





The streets shimmered as the black Lincoln Towncar raced down the long stretch of road. They were still wet from the passing rain and Buffy was mesmerized by their sparkle.

So far, the ride had been made in silence. Even when they had stopped at the 24-hour pharmacy to pick up her prescription, not more than a few words had passed between them. She was surprised that Spike wasn’t pushing her for a continuation of their conversation from earlier, but then she suspected he might be angry at her and Spike was normally pretty quiet when he was upset.

It was her own damn fault. She didn’t want to have this uncomfortable silence stretch out between them. Truth was that she needed to talk to someone about what had happened and there was no one else on earth she could see herself opening up to other than Spike. Not even Dawnie.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and felt her heart sink a little. He was staring out the window, his body pressed against the door and away from her. Why did she keep alienating him like this? It didn’t make any sense to her.

The car pulled into the large circular drive of the hotel and came to a stop in front of valet. There was an attendant standing outside and he quickly jumped into action, moving forward to open her door and help her out of the car.

“Good evening, ma’am. Welcome to Turquoise Creek,” he said with a friendly smile.

Turquoise Creek was a pretty fancy place considering it was out in the middle of the desert. Beautiful Mexican ceramic tile covered the entrance in intricate patterns and the walls were covered in Native American artwork and beadwork. The entire hotel was on a single level with a limited number of rooms and only a handful of suites. It was the kind of place that only catered to the wealthy and Buffy couldn’t help but to feel like she didn’t belong.

There was no check-in area, just a single stone-carved desk where the concierge sat. “Good evening, Mr. Giles,” the man greeted as came forward to shake Spike’s hand.

“We have your room ready with the specifications Ms. Jenkins gave us. Please follow me. Thomas will meet us there shortly with your bags,” the man told them before motioning that they follow him.

They walked down several corridors before finally stopping in front a pair of double doors. The concierge swiped the key card and opened the door for them.

The room was huge! Bigger than the room they’d had in Las Vegas that was for sure. It was decorated in a Southwestern fashion with earthy tones and natural stone.

She heard the door shut and when she turned around all she saw was Spike and their luggage in the foyer. Either she must have really lost track of time as she was staring in awe at the room or the staff here was super-fast to have missed them.

Her eyes flicked upward to Spike’s face, finding an intense gaze staring back at her. His body was poised to strike like a jungle cat in the foliage and Buffy found herself frozen like the prey he had set his sights on.

He started towards her, but her body refused to move.

“You an’ I are gonna have it out tonight, luv. No more runnin’,” he said thickly.

She was divided. Logic and reason dictated that this was the only way, but every emotion in her was screaming an order to run. And still, she didn’t move.

“Here’s the deal. We do this my way an’ if by the end o’ it, you still can’t trust me, then I’ll let it lie. No more pushin’, no more proddin’. You in?”







A/N: Sorry, just a short update to get everyone ready for the next chapter, which I promise will be chock full of Spuffy goodness, a little angst (or a lot), and a good dose of momentum.

I hope I haven’t lost any one…I know I’ve been horrible with updates and I’m not sure any one really liked the last chapter. There is a method to my madness.

Unfortunately, I have been suffering from writer’s block (yes…again) and a side order of self-pity. But as with anything, a long weekend with James, some liquor, and the greatest friends I could ever hope for have pushed my muse to get off her lazy ass and get some writin’ done! So thanks to James and his fine lookin’ self, oanimation, ghostgirl13, mad_brilliant, sandy_s (you’re such a sweetie!), and everyone who allowed me to flirt with them a Dragon*Con. Our fandom rocks!!!

“Here’s the deal. We do this my way an’ if by the end o’ it, you still can’t trust me, then I’ll let it lie. No more pushin’, no more proddin’. You in?”

Spike was on thin ice with this latest plan, but the time for playing nice was over. He couldn’t continue to treat her with kid gloves if they were ever going to work out their problems. Besides, he owed her this. It was the least he could do considering how she had turned his life around.

The deer-in-headlights expression faded as self-control flooded her body. It was a process he had seen many times, but not once until now had he appreciated it.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Spike. It was just…” Her voice drifted off, knowing she couldn’t come up with a valid excuse this time.

“It was jus’ what? Either you must think I’m a complete idiot or you’ve gone off your rocker, luv, if you expect me t’ believe anythin’ other than the plain truth o’ it.” He leaned in, his face mere inches apart from hers. “Got news for you, sweetheart. I’m not as stupid as I look an’ I am very familiar with insane women. So, try singin’ that song again.”

Buffy winced as he spoke about Dru. Yeah, that one hadn’t gone unnoticed either. Despite the fact that Spike had openly declared his love for her and publicly denounced his crazy ex, Buffy still turned into the green-eyed monster of jealousy whenever he mentioned Drusilla. It filled him with pride and pain at the same time.

But this was what he was trying to work through. Their trust issues, her trust issues specifically.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” she said softly. Her gaze was turned towards the floor not in an act of dishonesty but in shame.

“Then prove it. Tell me what the hell happened tonight.” He made no move to give her more space. Backing her into a corner was the only way to make her release whatever she was holding in.

She looked up at him with tears swimming in her shining green eyes. “I can’t.”

Keep your cool, mate. Keep your cool, a voice inside his head chanted as anger began to flare up inside of him. Nothing would be gained from his furious outbursts. No, this required cold calculation and steady patience.

Of course, that was something he didn’t exactly excel in.

“Why?”

A heavy sigh escaped her chest and she backed up slowly until her knees hit the back of the sofa. She plopped down into the soft cushions, sinking into them until the furniture threatened to swallow her whole.

“I don’t know,” she replied with a gentle shake of her head. “Maybe because I’ve kept it buried for so long that I don’t know how to talk about it out loud anymore. Maybe because now it seems like a ridiculous thing to be so worked up about. Maybe because I’m afraid.”

One small step for man…

“Afraid of what, luv?” He asked, even though he had an idea of what her answer was going to be already.

Her response was a whisper on the breeze, so soft that he barely heard it. “You.”

Spike had been expecting her to say that, but it still shoved at him hard, like the breath had been knocked from him. “Me?”

Suddenly, her expression was full of solid determination. “Yeah, you! It’s all your fault! None of this would have happened if I had just listened to that voice inside my head that told me to push you out my front door and slam it in your face. But no! You needed someone to take care of you and I needed…” Her jaw tensed up and she shook her head fiercely.

He stood, frozen, afraid that any sudden movement would knock her off course. God, he was so close. All of the answers were right there on the tip of her tongue, if only she would just let them slip out.

A reminiscent smile spread across her lips. “God, you were such a mess. So lost. I remember thinking that you needed someone to help you out, to make sure you didn’t lose it again.”

Well, didn’t that just make his day. She thought he was feeble. The girl certainly had a way of inspiring self-respect, didn’t she?

“And I rationalized it.” The smile disappeared and a gray look appeared in its stead. “I kept telling myself that I needed the money, which I did, but that’s not the reason I took the job. I told myself that you were just another celebrity who needed a babysitter to make sure they didn’t O.D. on something. But that was a lie.”

His heart was pounding in his chest and he didn’t know why. Moving slowly, he sat down in one of the oversized chairs, fearing his legs would give out. Perhaps he hadn’t been prepared for her confession at all.

Her head shot up and her gaze pierced his. “You think I didn’t know what was going on between you and Dru? I knew it the first week I came to work for her. How she used and abused you. How she hurt you. Do you think it was easy for me to sit back and watch as she terrorized you? This wonderful guy who worshipped the ground his wife walked on, completely devoted to her in spite of everything she put him through?”

His blue eyes widened. “Buffy, don’t-”

“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You told me you wanted to know what happened tonight. Well, I’m telling you, Spike. This all started with you.”

Okay, just what in the bleeding hell was she talking about?

“I kept my mouth shut about the whole thing, but what I really wanted to do was go up to you and shake you until all thoughts of Drusilla were gone. I hate her. God, I hate her. And not because she fired me or even because she was a demanding bitch most days.” Her stare remained locked on him. “I hate her for hurting you. I hate her for still hurting you.”

Spike couldn’t stop the wash of tears over his eyes. He tried to blink them back, but it wasn’t working. Did she have any idea of what she was doing to him? Did she know how his love was growing for her with every word she uttered? Did she know how much he feared she would take it all back in a moment of anger or frustration?

“I cared about you way before I found you that day.”

Oh, God! He wished he could say the same thing, but the truth of it was he’d never seen her before that day. She was just a shadow, a mere shade in the presence of Drusilla. Now that he knew her, his heart ached for all the lost time.

“You did?” His voice sounded weak and suddenly, he knew that he had willingly given up control to her once again.

She nodded. “I wanted to help you. The thought of something bad happening to you made me sick to my stomach and I was afraid that if I didn’t go with you that you might…”

He snorted a little. “Drink myself to death?”

“Or worse.”

She was probably right. Sure, he had been in pretty good spirits that day he went to her house, but he was positive that would have changed had she chosen to turn down his offer. He had needed someone to keep his head above water… No, not someone. He had needed her and somehow she had known that.

Her head hung low, nodding slowly as if she was testing an idea. “I shouldn’t have cared. I mean, I’ve spent years pushing my emotions back and then all the sudden… there you are. Making me feel. Making it hard to pretend that everything is okay and I was so… God, I was angry. I hated you at first, for making me feel everything I tried so hard to hide from.”

He tilted his head to study her from another angle. She couldn’t have meant that, could she?

“You hated me.” It wasn’t even a question because the moment he had really thought about it, he knew. Although, to be honest, he knew it was more resentment than it was hatred.

It explained a lot, actually. Why she would be fine one minute and shutting down the next. He had made her feel something and when she realized what was happening she tried to shove it away, feeling overwhelmed and angry.

That look of shame appeared on her face again. “Yes. And I’m sorry for how I treated you. It wasn’t really your fault, but it was so much easier to blame you than it was to actually admit that I wasn’t okay.”

“And now?”

Buffy sighed. “And now… I don’t know, Spike. Everything is such a mess in my head. I know that you care-”

“Correction.” He spoke intensely, making sure her gaze met his. “I love you. There’s a pretty big difference, luv.”

“Why!” She cried, her hands flying up.

“Why what?”

“Why do you love me? I don’t get it. What’s so great about me? I’m horrible to you most of the time. I keep things from you. I won’t fuck you. I’m-”

“Still the love of my bloody life! Jesus, Buffy,” he exclaimed, running a hand through his two-toned curls. “What’s it gonna take for you t’ stop questionin’ me? Yeah, you’re a right bitch an’ I’m the stupid sod that keeps crawlin’ back t’ you. An’ fuck! If you don’t want t’ tell me about your soddin’ past, don’t! All I know is that if you keep up the way you have been, you’re gonna lose your goddamn mind!”

“You-”

“An’ don’t you dare throw me wantin’ t’ make love t’ you in my face. I told you I’d wait for you an’ I meant it. You’re more than jus’ a quick shag t’ me, Buffy. If you knew me at all, you’d know that.”

“Why do you have to make things so damned difficult?”

Spike smirked and let out a short laugh. “Difficult? What’s so bloody difficult about it? I love you and I want you.”

“Well, it’s not that easy!”

“No?”

A frustrated little scream escaped her throat. “Don’t you get it? I’m fucking scared, okay?”

In a split second, he was out of his chair and moving to her. He sat down on the couch and grasped her by the shoulders, spinning her around to face him.

“Why, Buffy? Time’s up for riddles an’ I need you t’ tell me why you’re so scared of me.”

Her hands were shaking and she fidgeted, trying to get them to stop trembling. She took a shaky breath to steady herself before she looked up into his eyes.

“What happens if I let you in? If I let myself fall in love with you and then you leave?”





******





His dark eyebrows scrunched together and Buffy knew he was trying to figure out if he’d heard her right.

“Leave you? Why would I leave you?”

“Because everyone else has.”

He shook his head. “Buffy, I would never leave you.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “Because I haven’t heard that one before.”

The confusion and compassion left his face, swiftly being replaced with fury. His soft blue eyes turned as hard and cold as steel.

She had gone too far this time.

“You fuckin’ bitch! Jus’ who the hell do you think you are?” He still had a tight grip on her shoulders, his fingers digging into the delicate skin, bruising her. “You keep talkin’ about how it bothered you so much that Dru played with my soddin’ head an’ yet, here you are. I’m not your bloody punchin’ bag, pet. I went through that before an’ I don’t care how much I love you, it won’t be happenin’ again.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as a hot tear rolled down her flushed cheek. “I’m so-”

Spike shoved her away from him. “Stop it. Sayin’ your sorry doesn’t make it okay. It’s not a good enough excuse anymore, Buffy. If you really were sorry, then you’d quit treatin’ me like shit an’ you’d quit lyin’ to yourself.”

God, she was losing him. “What do you want me to do?” She pleaded.

The muscles in his jaw tightened and he gave her a fierce look. “I don’t want you t’ do anythin’. Maybe this… Maybe you should jus’ go home.”

Her heart dropped out of her chest. Did he not want her anymore?

Well, you finally got what you wanted. He’s pushing you away and now you can go back to the way things used to be. Safe. Numb.

Except she couldn’t go back. Not after Spike had changed her. Not after he had made feel again. She was living again, breathing for the first time in years, and she couldn’t go back to being emotionally comatose. She wouldn’t go back.

He stood with his back to her, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“I don’t want to leave.”

Spike spun around. “Oh? Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you decided it would be easier t’ jus’ give up on me than t’ try an’ make it work.”

“Do you think this is easy-” Abruptly, she stopped. What was she doing? Throwing more blame and accusations at him? He wasn’t the problem. She was.

He must have seen the battle she was waging with herself and decided to stay out of it because he just stood there; as unyielding as a marble statue with a blank expression to boot.

She squeezed her eyes shut and silently wished for strength. “My dad left us. Left me. My mom died. Left me. And Parker…well, he stomped on my heart and then he left too. I guess that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I needed someone in my corner, to help me deal with my mom dying and I thought he was the one. But he didn’t want to ‘play house’. Thought I was holding him back from having a real life.

“I’d never asked him to help me with Dawnie, but I guess that didn’t matter. He really didn’t want me. And here I am, stupid Buffy, thinking he was this great guy who loved me and all he really wanted was to fuck me. Apparently, I wasn’t worth a second round because he said he didn’t have time for amateurs.”

“Buffy-”

Buffy held up her hand to stop him. No, it was time for her to tell the truth and she wasn’t going to let him soothe away the pain. For so long she had tried to keep the pain at bay, but all she was really doing was letting it build up until it threatened to consume her.

“I couldn’t deal with that. It hurt too much and I just shut down. I had to be strong and take care of Dawnie and I couldn’t do that as long as I was still grieving over my mom or Parker. And I was fine. I was fine until you came along. Then suddenly I started feeling things and I was so confused. I tried to fight it, but the more I was around you, the harder it became.

“And when you touched me, it felt like the world was burning down around us. I’ve never felt that way before and I got scared and I tried to push you away. I’ve been dead inside for so long, Spike, but when I’m with you everything comes to life.”



******




The temptation to pinch himself was overwhelming. Surely, this wasn’t real. Buffy wasn’t sitting in front of him and telling him her story. She couldn’t be because that would mean…

“I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but I really want to be with you and if you’ll just give me another chance, I promise I’ll try to be better.”

It was her sweet voice telling him she wanted to try. Her hopeful smile that made his heart skip a beat or two. Her tears that promised truth and sincerity. It was her, but she looked like a dream.

“Why couldn’t you jus’ tell me that before?”

She blinked and that little crease between her eyebrows deepened. “I couldn’t even admit it to myself, how was I going to admit it to you?”

You’re such a bloody fool.

Spike wasn’t sure what the annoying voice inside his head was referring to. It could have been his dumb question. No. No, it was referring to the way his heart melted when she looked at him with such hope instead of icing over. If he had any self-preservation in him at all, he would have laughed in her face when she spoke of second chances.

But that wasn’t him. He was a fool for love and more importantly a fool for her.

He swallowed hard before taking a step toward her. “I’ll be right back.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “What? Where are you going?”

“Jus’ in the other room for a minute. Stay an’ I’ll be right back.”

Instead of arguing, like Spike had been expecting, she just sat back on the sofa and nodded. He stood there for a moment completely disoriented. It could have been fatigue or maybe lack of food that was making him light-headed, but Spike had another theory. She had cast some sort of spell on him, he was sure of that.

His tongue darted out to moisten his parched lips before he gave her one last look and turned on his heel.








A/N: Oh…did I leave that in a bad place again…? *grins with evil glee* Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews. I wish I had time to answer each and every one, but alas there are only so many hours in the day. Suffice it to say, you feed my motivation with each word. Thank you.

I am desperately trying to write a new chapter of Trouble but I’m finding that writing the morning after is quite the daunting task . *giggles* And I heard…someone wanted more Dreaming…? I’m working on it. Really. ~ Luv, Jae

Staring at the closed door, Buffy tried hard to keep the tears at bay. She wasn’t sure whether the sudden urge to cry was from dredging up old memories or because Spike had seemingly abandoned her afterward. Either way, all she could do was sit there, bewildered and hurt.

It occurred to her that she could just charge into the other room and demand that he tell her what he was up to or she could leave all together, but her limbs wouldn’t move. Besides, what would she have to gain? If she barged in there, she would only end up making him angry and she was beginning to realize that an angry Spike was never in her favor. And leaving? Jobless, boyfriendless and being in a general state of emotional hell didn’t appeal to her at all.

Spike had turned her life upside down and sideways. He was everything she had tried to avoid since Parker had left her, but the funny part about it was that she had known exactly who Spike was when she got involved in his life. A part of her had always known that this would happen, that he would change things, that he would change her. And maybe that same part had secretly reveled in the fact that he would thrust her out of a black and white world and into the bright kaleidoscope of colors.

Truth was being cold and dead inside wasn’t what Buffy was hard-wired for. It went against her very nature to be so numb and distant, but circumstances had forced her to be someone she wasn’t. She wanted more than anything to reclaim the part of her that had been driven into hibernation and the only thing stopping her was fear.

She wasn’t as strong as her persona would lead people to believe and fear alone was enough to give her pause.

Suddenly, the door opened and Spike strode out, stopping when he realized she had been crying. His breathing was rapid, chest heaving as he stared at her in…disbelief? Was he surprised that she had stayed? It was what he’d asked her to do; did he not believe her when she had agreed?

He shook his head gently before moving toward her, coming to stop just inches from her knees. “C’mon,” he all but whispered as he reached his hand out to her.

“Where are we going?” She asked, her voice thick from crying.

Instead of answering her, he grabbed her hand and hauled her off the couch. “Shhhh,” was all he said as he led her across the room and through the doorway.

The room that Spike had disappeared to and the room that they were now both standing in was the bathroom. Of course, Buffy immediately wondered what he had been doing in here for almost twenty minutes, but then all of her thoughts were swept aside as she took in the sheer brilliance of the room itself. There were thousands of multicolored tiles of various sizes covering the walls and floor; some shimmered in the flickering copper lantern lights and threw reflections around the room giving the appearance that there was a mirror ball hanging from above. But when Buffy looked up there was no mirror ball, just a skylight that was blurred from the rain.

“Buffy.”

She spun around and found Spike gazing at her. “What are we doing in here?”

His expression hardened momentarily before he closed the distance between them and gave her a soft smile. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Warning bells and sirens went off in her brain and the fear began to bubble in her stomach. Gritting her teeth, she shoved the worrisome feelings aside knowing that it was just an automatic reaction that she had trained herself to have whenever she felt her emotions were in danger.

She did trust him or at least she wanted to. That was a start, wasn’t it?

“Buffy?” He ran his hand over her arm, causing goosebumps to rise over her skin.

She nodded. “I do.” Which, of course, wasn’t entirely true, but this was the only way she would be able to begin the process of finally letting herself go. What he had in mind, she hadn’t a clue. Whatever it was, though, she would willingly put herself into his hands and let go.

Intense blue eyes never left hers as he trailed his hand back up her arm, across her collarbone and over to the top button of her shirt. Her breath hitched as he pushed the button through its hole.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I won’t do anythin’ you don’t want me to.”

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought. Nodding, she replied, “I know.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Spike continued his descent, popping each button open to reveal the skin beneath. Once her shirt was completely undone, he slid his hands up and brushed the thin material down her shoulders, the garment quickly falling to the floor.

His fingers dropped down to the waistband of her jeans and made fast work of the button there and then the zipper. Anticipating that he would remove her jeans, Buffy was surprised when he suddenly dropped to his knees and starting pulling at the zipper on her boots. He yanked her boots off with much less finesse than he had used when removing her shirt, tossing the shoes behind his shoulder before divesting her of her socks. Without getting up, he dragged her jeans down her legs and helped her out of them.

Standing, he gently fingered the straps of her bra, his gaze questioning.

She desperately wanted to ask him what exactly his plans were, but she refrained from doing so. Instead, she just nodded again. Putting trust in someone meant having faith and how would it look if she questioned him now? It would derail everything she was trying to accomplish in one fell swoop.

If he was happy about her willingness to participate, he didn’t show it. A somber expression strained his features almost as if he were in the middle of diffusing a bomb or something as equally delicate and dangerous. Is that what he saw when he looked at her? A ticking time bomb?

She choked out a sob. God, what had she done? Is that what everyone saw when they looked at her? Someone who was unstable and difficult? It hadn’t ever been her intention to put everyone on edge, but that didn’t seem to matter now. She had done this to herself.

“How can you even look at me?” Buffy asked in self-disgust as she pulled away from his gentle hands.

His dark eyebrows shot up and he tilted his head slightly to one side. “How can I not? You’re beautiful, luv.”

Buffy shook her head furiously before he steadied her with a hand under her chin. His gaze was deep and it pierced into her soul. “Don’t do that.”

Without another word, he finished stripping her, taking her bra off so quickly that she didn’t even realize until he had moved to slip her panties down her legs. He didn’t look at her naked body, his eyes stayed glued to hers, watching her facial expressions as she stood completely bare to him.

It could have been just a few minutes or hours before either of them moved, but when he finally closed the gap between them Buffy felt like the world was melting away. His fingertips grazed her shoulder before whispering down, around the soft swell of her breast, over each rib and then the full curve of her hip. He was bending down, his breath tickling at her skin as his hand drifted lower until he reached her knee.

Abruptly, Buffy found herself being lifted off the ground and she squeaked out her surprise. His arms were strong and sturdy as he carried her a short distance. He tipped her feet forward and she felt her toes being submerged into very warm liquid. Her legs followed until Spike was kneeling down beside the large copper tub to deposit the rest of her body into the sweet abyss of lavender-scented water.

Realization finally smacked her right between the eyes. All this had been to get her to take a bath?

Spike chuckled as he sat down on a short stool beside the tub, the expression on her face more telling than any words. “What did you think I was gonna do?”

Um, what had she thought he was going to do? Obviously, the first thought she had while he was stripping her down was that he was finally going to take what she had been denying him. Of course, now that she thought about it, she knew that would have never happened. That wasn’t how Spike operated. He didn’t use sex as a weapon.

Unlike some people...

Okay, so she hadn’t ever intentionally used sex as a weapon against him, but she knew that every time they had been intimate together she threw his desire for her in his face. It was wrong, so very wrong. She could finally see that and it made her self-hatred grow even more.

“What now?” She asked, intentionally dodging his question.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Does it matter?”

It was a test. A test to see how much she really trusted him. Much to her shock, she just shrugged. “Not really.”

Her response must have shocked Spike, too, because he froze and gave her a dangerous look. Oh, how the tables had turned. Who didn’t trust who now? Buffy took a small bit of pride in the fact that it seemed she wasn’t the only one with trust issues.

Of course, to be fair, he had every reason to distrust her. After all, how many times had she begged him for a second chance because she couldn’t keep her word? Too many times to count, if she were at all honest.

He studied her for what seemed like forever before he let out a sigh and scooted the stool closer to the tub. Grabbing a sponge, he dipped it into the warm water, soaking it before pouring some bath gel onto its porous surface. He worked the sponge into a generous foaming lather and brushed it down her shoulder.

“So, this Parker git…” He paused, the sponge resting in the crook of her arm as soapy suds trailed down her skin. Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath before continuing on. “He was your first, then.”

Buffy’s gaze shot upward. He wasn’t looking at her, his attention purely reserved for the sponge he was gliding over her arm. “How did you-”

“That’s the way o’ it, innit? The first one always has the power t’ make or break you,” he said softly, a haunting ghost swirling in the dark blue depths of his eyes.






******




He was starting to believe he was a glutton for punishment, that he was a closet masochist for putting himself through all this. The fact that he was still trying at all to get Buffy to open up to him was proof enough of that.

Despite his impending hurt and humiliation, he pressed onward, all at once dreading and needing the conversation to come.

Of course no man ever wanted to hear about his girlfriend’s sexual relationships prior to him and Spike was no different. But he was torn with desperately needing a window into her past and hating the idea of knowing the details of a life without him in it.

Swallowing hard, he urged her on with a soft look as he continued washing the sponge over her brilliant skin, which it should be mentioned was torturous in and of itself.

“I don’t know why I was even with him,” she admitted with a sigh of relief. Her hazel-green eyes searched his, looking for some sign that she was making a mistake by delving into her relationship with Parker. When she found none, she glanced down into the water. “I guess I have some idea. He was popular and good-looking and he made me feel...”

“Special?” Spike offered, silently choking on the word.

She nodded. “Yeah. Special.”

Neither wanted to admit that they knew exactly what sick game Parker had been playing, so the word just hung there for a while, hovering like thick smoke in a crowded bar.

When Spike couldn’t take the silence any longer, he rested his elbows on the edge of the tub and gave her a good, long look. “You know, if you can’t... I know it’s hard t’ talk about-”

“No,” she said, smiling sweetly as she shook her head. “I can’t not talk about it now. It’s there, just waiting to burst out, but I want to make sure it comes out without me sounding like a freaking lunatic.”

Spike chuckled. “No chance o’ that happenin’, luv.”

“Shuddup.” Buffy splashed a little water and a fair amount of bubbles at him, the light finally returning to her eyes.

She sobered up a bit and sat a bit straighter in the tub before giving him a questioning quirk of her eyebrow. “Do you think many women regret their...first times?”

“I’d bet,” he began, inhaling deeply and letting the warm, moist air flow into his burning lungs. “That there are a lot more than you’d think an’ I’d even guess that there were quite a few men that regretted it too.”

“Really?”

“Well, I would hope that I wasn’t the only one out there.”

Her brow scrunched up in surprise. “Really?”

“Oh, bloody hell, it was terrible. I was terrible.”

“Somehow I can’t see you doing that badly at it,” Buffy retorted.

He leaned back and smirked. “That so?”

“Well, I...er... I mean, just from experience, you don’t seem to be lacking any...um...talent in that department.”

“An’ you think we’re jus’ born with the ability t’ give it good?” He laughed loudly, the booming sound echoing off the walls. “Please, luv. I was a bumblin’ fool an’ if she hadn’t o’ done it before, I wouldn’t have known where t’ put it.”

“Oh.”

“That’s what he did, wasn’t it?”

Buffy frowned. “Did what?”

His blue eyes narrowed and he brushed his soapy thumb over her cheek. “Made you feel like you were stupid for not knowin’ what t’ do.”

“Well...I didn’t.”

“You’re not supposed to. It’s like anythin’ else, luv. We aren’t born knowin’ how t’ walk or talk an’ we sure as hell aren’t born with an instruction manual on how t’ shag well!” He hadn’t meant it to come out like an angry shout, but buggering hell if he wasn’t right pissed about this bloke.

“I know that now!” She shouted back. “But geez, Spike, it’s not like they teach you these things in Sex Ed. They don’t tell you to beware of the smooth-talking guy with the hot ass and gorgeous eyes. They don’t tell you that the first time is supposed to be a learning process. All they tell you is that you should wait until you get married and if you don’t, you’re going to get Chlamydia and die.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Buffy, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t start that,” he warned her, knowing exactly where her flippant attitude was going to lead them if she kept it up. “I didn’t bloody well mean it t’ sound like an accusation. Damn it, Buffy, I’m-”

“Really crappy at trying to explain yourself.”

Spike rolled his eyes at her. “Besides that. Look, I jus’ meant that it wasn’t your fault an’ that this Parker git was a bleedin’ wanker for makin’ you feel like you weren’t up t' par. An’ yeah, I’m fuckin’ angry, but not at you, kitten. Never at you.”

“Angry?”

The world seemed to slow to a stop as he realized what he was getting ready to say. It bubbled in his throat, making him hoarse and suddenly so very weak.

“Yeah, angry. Angry that I hadn’t met you years ago. Angry it wasn’t me that got t’ taste you first. Angry it was him an’ now you’re so bloody damaged. An’ I’m so bloody lost. I’m angry that I love you an’ you can’t love me back. Wish I could jus’ disappear right now so I didn’t have t’ deal with this bullshit with Dru or worry about my soddin’ responsibilities. Wish I could jus’ fly us away an’ make you forget...”






******




Buffy didn’t think she could breathe. Just when she thought Spike couldn't say anything more that would make her heart burst, he pulled something like this out of thin air. And of course, she was at a loss.

How could she possibly respond? She would ruin things if she even attempted to. Just like she always did.

"Spike, I-"

He glanced up suddenly, his blue eyes glassy like the surface of the Pacific, bright and deep. "Is there a chance for me at all, luv? Or is this a losin' battle?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

The snort of laughter that came in response wasn't very reassuring and Buffy had the strong urge to slap herself. That hadn't taken long at all. Once she opened her mouth, it was inevitable that she would fuck things up.

"I mean-" She squeezed her eyes shut and cursed herself a million ways from Sunday. "I'm here. I could have run. I could have thrown a fit and you could have had me on the first plane back to LA. But I'm here."

"You're here. What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that I know I'm... I know there's something wrong with me. There must be, right?" She giggled a little hysterically. "Here I am with the perfect man sitting next to me, telling me he loves me and just wants to help and all I can do is get defensive about it? I must be out of my freakin' mind!"

"Not perfect," Spike muttered.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Right. Because women don't fantasize about having a gorgeous guy who's smart and talented and funny and who loves them so much he's willing to go through hell to get her to see reason... Who'll drop whatever he's doing, no matter how many fans he's going to disappoint, to bathe the stupid girl who got herself thrown in the emergency room over a little breakup that happened years ago. Oh, no, Spike, you're not perfect at all.

"Of course, now, I've really convinced myself that I belong in the looney bin."

Spike stared at her like she was nuts for a second before bursting out into wild laughter. It must have been that contagious kind of laughing because before she even realized she was doing it, Buffy was laughing so hard her stomach hurt.

"We're a pair, aren't we?" Spike said, shaking his head.

Her laugher ended abruptly as she reached out to touch his face. "We are."

He swallowed hard. "I can't do this again, Buffy. I'm in soddin' love with you an' every time you push me away, I... It's too bloody much."

"I won't. I won't push you away anymore. I know I've told you that before and that I've always-" She grabbed his face between both of her wet hands and held steady. "You told me tonight that we could just start over, that we could throw everything that's happened between us out the window. Were you just saying that or did you mean in?"

"You know I meant it. Although, looking back, I might not have been entirely whole-hearted in the effort."

Buffy frowned. "Oh."

"There are quite a few things that happened between us I'm not so sure I want t' forget."

It took her a minute to realize what he'd said and then she noticed the wicked smirk he was giving her. The man was positively evil, she was sure of it.

"You!" She shouted, splashing water at him.

He dipped his hand into the cooling bathwater and scooped a handful over her head. Screaming, she kicked her leg up and a whole lot of water with it, drenching his shirt and spilling onto the floor.

"If you wanted t' get me wet, luv, all you had t' do was ask," he said with a leer.

"What if I'm asking now?"

He groaned. "You're playin' with fire there, pet. I've been three words an' good rub down away from burstin' since I met you so tread lightly or you're liable t' find yourself with a whole lot more o' me than you're ready for."

Her heart stopped for a minute. She wasn't sure how serious he was from the non-expression gracing his face. Normally, it was easy to tell, but he was purposely keeping his emotions far from the surface.

"And what if I'm still asking?"

He was off of the stool so quickly it was like a blur of color flashing in front of her. She found herself being hauled out of the tub and into strong, sturdy arms. Her skin was over-sensitive from the warm water and the sudden rush of cool air that attacked her naked flesh and a shiver went through her so fierce that it almost made her slip from his grasp.

Looking up, Buffy felt another tremble as she took in the intensity of his gaze.

"Is that what you're askin' for, luv? 'Cause I am more than happy t' oblige," he told her, his nostrils flaring from the force of his breathing.

Buffy felt her nerve slipping away. As much as she wanted to be with him, she honestly didn't think she was ready to have sex. It was stupid, really, but she couldn't shake the feeling that now wasn't the time.

"I-"

His jaw tensed. "I know," he said, sighing.

"It's not that I don't want you, Spike. I just-"

"I know."

Buffy's eyes dropped to his chest, not able to take the emotion spilling from his face. "I'm sorry. I'm always ruining things."

"Hey," he began, tilting her chin upward. "You have nothin' t' be sorry for, pet. An' you didn't ruin anythin'. Us bein' attracted t' each other was never the problem, it's everythin' else. I'm not completely brainless. I know this is gonna take a lot of work an' gettin' physical right now would only muck things up."

She nodded, amazed at how he could see through her despite all of her attempts to hide away from him.

"One day at a time, yeah?"

"Yeah."

He bent down and captured her lips with his. The grip he had on her tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping over hers in slow deliberate strokes. His hand smoothed over the moist skin of her back and moved downward, playing against her spine until sparks of pleasure zapped through her.

"I should go," he murmured against her mouth.

She broke away. "What? Why?"

Brushing a strand of damp hair back, he smiled at her. "Because if I stay, you're never gonna finish your bath."

"Oh."

With one last kiss, he started for the door. "I'll be waitin' for you, luv," he said with a grin, then shut the door behind him.

Long after the water had cooled, Buffy continued to sit in the large copper tub, reflecting heavily on the recent turn of events. Her world had been thrown upside down despite her desperate attempts to stay on that familiar path. Of course, it was now that she was finally realizing that the familiar path would have taken her to Purgatory and she would have become lost in the gray ether indefinitely.

In some ways, she still wished for it. But that was really just the fear talking.

It threw her off kilter; these new, powerful waves of emotion. Happiness, sadness, fear, passion, all hitting her at once. It made her heart race and adrenaline rush through her once-frozen veins, stabbing at the core of her like a thousand knives.

A bubble of laughter burst out of her and echoed in the spacious bathroom. Just before she had left to go on the tour, she remembered Dawn saying something about parts not working from lack of use. And that's what this was. The pain in her chest was from her heart learning to beat again, to live and thrive...to love.

Love.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was going to take as much work to let herself love as it was to let herself be loved, but she wanted---no, she needed to try. The idea of letting someone in, though, felt like a free fall out of a plane with no parachute and she shivered from the race of fear up her spine.

It didn't matter that Spike was dependable or trustworthy. As far as Buffy was concerned, all bets were off when it came to having a relationship with her. Her track record for keeping people around was rotten to the core. Even when she had tried to make it work, she always ended up driving them away.

Tilting her head, she listened to the muted sounds of a guitar and smiled when she heard the familiar timber of Spike's voice.

They were so night and day, and Buffy often wondered what he saw in her. He was a poet at heart, words coming so easily to him, letting him speak his deepest thoughts to the world. The singing and musical talent were just added bonuses to the package. Then there was her. Plain, boring Buffy, who was as far from artistic as one could possibly be. They didn't make much sense together on paper, but she could not deny the spark between them.

And he loved her.

It occurred to her that it was strange that she wasn't questioning the sincerity of Spike's declaration of love. After all, she had trusted Parker when he'd told her he loved her and that turned out to be a big, fat lie. In the end, though, Buffy knew Spike's feelings for her were real. She could feel it, in the way he looked at her, in his soft touches.

Looking down, she realized she was turning a very unnatural shade of blue, though she really hadn't noticed the cold. Too lost in thought, probably. Pulling the stopper, she stood up and grabbed the towel Spike had left on the stool, wrapping it around her body and tucking one corner in to keep it fastened.

The floor was surprisingly warm for tile as she made her way to the door. She peered out into the front room, expecting to see Spike sitting on the couch, but he was nowhere to be seen. The soothing sound of his voice alerted her to the fact that he hadn't left and she quickly set off to find him.

Through an ornate archway, she found the master bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, letting a soft glow of light filter around the hard edges. She gently pushed the door open enough to peek inside and she gasped at what she saw.

The room was spacious with a high ceiling and tall windows and in the center of it was an enormous cherry wood four-poster bed with coppery-toned bedding. The flickering light from the fireplace threw shadows against the room and across Spike's relaxed form.

He was cross-legged in the middle of the bed, a black acoustic guitar in his lap, his eyes closed as he plucked heavy notes from the thick strings. Faded blue jeans that had seen better days encased his legs and slim hips, but the rest of his lean body was bare. His skin glowed golden in the firelight, giving her a glimpse of what could be if he chose to play under the sun a bit more.

"You gonna stand there all night an' stare at me, luv?"

Buffy squeaked in surprise. "Maybe."

He glanced at her through his eyelashes, his head still angled towards the guitar. "Well, if it's a show you want..."

"I believe you promised me one," she replied, remembering the very suggestive remark he had made earlier that day.

"I'm not one t' disappoint," he told her with a wicked smirk. "Now, get in here, you're makin' me nervous hoverin' at the door like that."

Making him nervous? What about her? Sitting on a bed that looked like it was made with nothing but sin in mind looking like sin himself... That was enough to get her knees shaking and her heart pounding. She was pretty sure she had the market of nervousness cornered.

There was a rich, rust-colored chaise in the corner and Buffy padded across the plush carpeting to it, sitting down carefully so as not to dislodge the towel wrapped around her small frame. She was in a precarious situation, being half naked in Spike's bedroom, and she wasn't sure she trusted herself enough to sit on the bed with him. Oh, she wanted to, but the temptation to give into her desires was overwhelming.

He grinned at her. "What's the matter, luv? Afraid I might take advantage o' you?"

A familiar protest rose in her throat, but she quickly swallowed it back. She kept having to remind herself that she wasn't trying to push him away anymore, that the whole point of this was to embrace how she felt and open up. It had sounded so easy in her head, but the reality was that she had spent years building up those defense walls and they weren't going to come tumbling down in one effort.

"I'm not afraid, but maybe you should be," she replied dryly.

Spike's smile fell, his gaze turning quizzical. "What's this about now?"

"I just realized that what a ho-bag I've been."

"A what?"

Buffy sighed. "Every time we've ever done anything physical, I was the one who initiated it. If anyone would be taking advantage it would be me."

He held his breath as he regarded her statement, his eyes darting off towards the ceiling as if the heavy wooden beams above held some sort of looking glass into the past. "Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "I seem t' recall bein' the aggressor at least twice. Besides, I like it when you take advantage o' me. Let's me know that you still want me."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Still want you? Jesus, Spike, I haven't wanted anyone as much as I want you. The things you make me feel... Why do you think I'm sitting over here? I can't control myself around you."





******





Squeezing his eyes shut, Spike silently willed for the strength to keep from jumping off the bed and showing her just how much what she had said affected him.

"Is that a bad thing?" His voice was a bit too shaky for his liking, but thankfully, Buffy didn't seem to notice.

"Yes... No..."

He couldn't stop the annoyed glare that he shot at her from across the room. Why did she always have to talk in circles? That was their problem from the start. She would say one thing and mean another or she wouldn't commit to an answer at all, either way, Spike was thoroughly confused most of the time when it came to their conversations. And this one was no exception.

Obviously seeing his frustration, Buffy threw up her hands and expelled a heavy sigh. "You want me to give you a straight answer all the time, Spike, but it's not that simple."

"Then explain it t' me! I can't read your mind, pet."

She stared at him for a long minute before the wall finally came down again. "It takes so much energy to stay in control all of the time. God, I get tired just thinking about it. But when I'm around you and I just lose it... It's like a weight being lifted off my chest and I can finally breathe again."

"I'm sensin' a 'but' there."

"The 'but' is that eventually the world comes crashing back down on me and I get scared. The bad part about losing my control around you is that in the end, I always hurt you. So, yeah. Yes and no," she told him.

The idea of control was foreign to him. From the day he was born he had been ruled by emotion and he had as much control over that as he had over the Earth circling the sun. It was all about how he felt and never about how he should have felt, all about how he reacted and never about how he should have reacted. He never said what he supposed to, at least, according to the scores of publicists and record executives that had come and gone through the course of his musical career.

That might be why when Buffy spoke of this unfaltering control, he just didn't get it.

"Why does the world have t' come crashin' down at all? Why can't you jus' let it go, Buffy?"

He could tell by the expression on her face that she was feeling a bit defensive. So, it wasn't any surprise what she said next.

"Because the world doesn't revolve around my stupid fantasies or yours."

"Fantasies, huh?" He chuckled, finding this new insight into her positively delicious.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "It's not funny."

"No? Have you listened t' yourself lately, pet? Life isn't bloody Mission: Impossible, you shouldn't take it so seriously."

"Not take it seriously? It's my life, Spike. That's pretty serious," she retorted, folding her arms over her towel-covered breasts.

"An' what? Your life is so soddin' serious that you have t' live inside a box? 'Cause that's what you're doin'." Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair and slapped it back down on his thigh. "I got news for you, luv, that's not a life. That's not livin' at all."

Tears began welling in her brilliant green eyes. "What am I supposed to do then, huh? Just stop worrying? Stop caring that I have bills to pay and mouths to feed and work to do? I can't just stop doing that, Spike."

"You can stop makin' that stuff your whole bloody life though!"

"I don't!"

He sucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, making the muscles in his cheeks tense up and his chin jut out, and he shook his head. "You're not happy. Whatever you're doin', it's not makin' you happy. An' without happiness, what the hell do you have?"

"Oh, like you're so freaking happy, Spike," she replied sarcastically.

An angry response was dancing on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back down. He was well aware of what Buffy was doing, whether she realized it or not, and he wasn't going to play into it. Not this time.

Shrugging, he adjusted the guitar in his lap and began thumbing a simple tune out of the instrument.

It was very obvious to Spike that she did not appreciate his brush off. She wanted an argument, that was Buffy's MO from the get-go, and if this were a month ago, he probably would have fell into her trap, but he had gotten a bit wiser to her little mind game over the past few weeks and he refused to be her excuse anymore.

"You're miserable, why don't you do something about it?" She jabbed again, that spiteful glare flushing over her normally-beautiful face once again.

Was he miserable? Maybe he had been. He would be the first to admit that Dru's leaving had throw him into a pit of hell that he had wallowed in for quite some time and he would be lying if he said he had escaped pain's clutches all together, but how he felt now nowhere compared with how he had felt then.

Miserable? Not hardly. Thoroughly frustrated, yes. Slightly mad, abso-fucking-lutely!

Instead of responding, he just arched an eyebrow and turned his attention back to the random ditty he was plucking out.

"So what? You're just going to ignore me now?"

His Pacific-blue eyes glanced up at her. "'M not ignorin' you, luv. Jus' choosin' my battles carefully an' this one you're tryin' t' start with me isn't one I'm gonna win."

"What are we? At war?"

"You tell me. You're the one goading me into fightin' with you, pet," he said flatly.

Shock washed the anger away and her face softened immediately. "No, I'm not. I'm just trying to point out that you're being a little hypocritical here. You keep talking about being happy, but you aren't happy, so why should I be?"

"I'm makin' the bloody effort."

She snorted in response.

"What do you want me t' say, Buffy? What can I say t' make you stop arguing with me?"

"I..." Her mouth snapped shut when she realized she had no retort.

It felt like they were miles apart though only a few feet separated them and suddenly, Spike couldn't take it anymore. He pushed himself off the bed and in a couple short strides, found himself standing in front of her. Intense hazel-green eyes stared up at him and for a second, he almost convinced himself to walk away. But in the end, his need won over and he swept her up into his arms.

She didn't protest as he carried her to the bed and set her down on the soft mattress. Climbing onto the high bed, he settled himself across from her so that they were facing each other.

"Fightin' with you isn't nearly as fun as it used t' be," he said absently.

Her eyebrows quirked up. "When was fighting ever fun?"

"You're bloody kiddin' me, right?" He gave her an incredulous look. "Don't tell me you never got hot when we used t' argue."

"Um, no. Not really."

Now that was a lie if he had ever heard one. There was little doubt in his mind that she got just as turned on as he did when they had bantered back and forth. "I wish I could believe that, pet."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head at him. "Just because you got off on-"

"Oh, you better believe I got off on it. All the soddin' time. Had t' go give myself a good wank on many occasions from that sharp lil' tongue o' yours," he told her with a leer.

At first, it looked like she was going to laugh, but she must have realized that he was entirely serious about the matter because her jaw dropped open and she gaped at him. "Really?"

"Not much about you that doesn't turn me on, luv."



******



This was veering into dangerous territory again.

"Spike..." It was a warning that came out sounding more like a breathless sigh and she watched helplessly as his eyes darkened with lust.

"I've wanted you since that day I came t' your house."

"You did?" She asked, taken aback by his admission. If it were true, he had hidden it pretty well. Sure, she had some idea that there was some attraction there, but never to that extent and certainly not that early on.

He laughed nervously. "Oh, yeah. Not that I could do anythin' about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I can see that goin' well. 'Hey, I wanna offer you a job, would you mind strippin' so I can shag you into the next century?' You would've slugged me for that," he replied with a lopsided grin.

He probably had a point there.

"Then once you said yes, I couldn't very well get involved with someone who worked for me, could I?"

She grinned. "What's so different now? I still work for you."

Swallowing, he glanced away, his brow wrinkling slightly. "Yeah, about that..."

Her smile faded quickly. Where was he going with this? Was he thinking about firing her?

"Look, Buffy, I've been thinkin'... Maybe it's not such a good idea for you t' be on my payroll."

"What? Why?"

Surprise colored his face. "You're my girlfriend," he said as if it explained everything.

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut. God, she couldn't deal with this. "I don't understand, Spike. What's the problem? People in... relationships work together all of the time."

"I'm not tellin' you t' stop helpin' me. I jus' think you don't have t' be my 'assistant' in order t' do it."

Her eyes popped open and she stared at him like he had grown an extra head. "So, what? I'm supposed to do my work for free? Is that it?"

Spike put his hands up in defense. "Wait a-"

"Oh! I know! You're gonna pay me in sexual favors, right?" She clapped her hands together in mock-excitement, then her expression turned sour and she jumped off the bed, spinning around to face him. "I can't believe you!"

He opened his mouth to say something, but Buffy had had enough. She was tired and half-naked and she just didn't want to deal with it anymore. Turning on her heel, she swept out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Running out into the living area, she quickly searched for her bag so she could get dressed. It wasn't seconds after she had reached down to grab her duffel bag that she heard Spike tear out of the bedroom and make his way down the hall.

She felt herself being yanked backward and then pushed against the wall. There was no pain, but the loud sound the action made startled her. Her breathing was heavy as she looked up into his tumultuous blue eyes.

“That’s not what I bloody meant,” he rumbled, his hands caressing her smooth shoulders. “You don’t have t’ do anythin’, pet. I’ll take care o’ you.”

“I don’t want you to take care of me, Spike. I am an adult. I don’t need someone taking care of me when I’m well enough to take care of myself,” she told him.

He searched her eyes. “Why can’t you let me take the reins? You won’t have t’ worry about anythin’. I’ll pay for your lil’ sis’s college; you won’t have t’ work.”

“No! I don’t want that,” she replied, shaking her head furiously. “If you don’t want me to work for you anymore, that’s fine, Spike, but I’m not going to be beholden to you. I’ll get another-”

“Beholden? Is that why you think I’m offerin’ t’ take care o’ you? So that I’ll have some sort o’ bloody leverage over you?” He stared at her for a long time before letting out an exasperated growl and slamming his fist against the wall. “Goddammit, Buffy! I fuckin’ love you! The only motive I have is t’ make you soddin’ happy an’ nothin’ else.”

Something inside her snapped. She wasn’t sure what caused it, but it felt like the world had suddenly dropped out from under her. Her arms flew out to grasp at the first solid thing she could find and she felt her fingers dig into the lean-muscled flesh of Spike’s shoulders.

“Buffy, are you alright? What’s wrong?” The anger in his voice had completely been replaced by concern and if anything, the ground dropped even further away.

Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. There was a reason she wasn’t supposed to kiss him, she knew there was, but at the moment she couldn’t think of it. She glanced at his lips and moistened her own before leaning in to capture his mouth.

He moaned into her mouth and wrapped his arms around her waist, hauling her up his body and holding her against the wall. Instinctively, she locked her legs around his hips, feeling the rigid column of his erection settle against her bare womanhood, making her throb with want.

Their tongues dueled as Spike pressed his body into hers, his hips rolling, making her cry out as a flash of desire went through her. His hand snuck between them and grasped one firm breast, massaging it while his thumb flicked against the rapidly hardening nipple. Her back arched from the pleasure he was creating, forcing her to break their kiss.

“Buffy... God, I want you, kitten,” he moaned as his lips skimmed over her neck, his tongue snaking out to taste her sweet skin.

She knew there was a reason why she shouldn’t be giving into her desire, but her mind was too fuzzy to work properly. All that made sense was how much she wanted him and since she couldn’t think of the reason why it was such a bad idea...

Swinging back, she pushed against the wall and sent the both of them tumbling to the hardwood floor with a smack. If Spike was hurt, he didn’t mention it, just continued to kiss and lick at the tender skin behind her ear.

Her thumbs brushed over his flat nipples, making his hips jerk beneath her and she repeated the motion. One hand slowly made its way down his chest until it finally reached its destination. Her fingers pushed the button through its hole then moved to the strained zipped and slid the little metal tab downward until she felt his cock spring out. She grasped his hardness and pumped her hand over him once.

Spike groaned loudly as he threw his head back against the floor. Using their separation, Buffy grabbed at the waistband of his jeans and yanked them down as far as her position would allow. Shifting her body, she sat up, straddling his hips so that his newly-released cock pressed up against her wet heat.

Just as she reached down to position the head of his cock at her entrance, he reached up and grasped her hips, stilling her movements. She looked down at him, a lustful haze creating a halo around his angelically-angled face.

“Buffy? Are you sure you want-”

She didn’t allow him to finish as she suddenly sank down over his erection, a moan escaping her throat as he filled her to capacity. Stealing a glance at him, Buffy could see the shock and awe on his face, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping open as if he was still stuck in that one perfect moment when their bodies joined.

Her movements began slowly, a deliberate rock of her hips against him as she worked to find her rhythm. It was a dance to music only they could hear, with its steady beat and sensual tones. The need for more friction drove her to lift her hips up and then slide back down, making her throw back her head as shards of pleasure sliced through her.

The disapproving voice in her head became a distant trickle and for the first time in far too long, she just let herself go, to feel. Her hands glided up the solid muscles of his stomach and stopped to rest just below his ribs, allowing her to feel every breath, every shudder that went through him. And she reveled in his reactions, knowing that she was the cause.

Spike grabbed her hips and silently urged her to move faster. "Oh, baby...feels so...yes..."

She barely heard him, too consumed in her own pleasure to process anything beyond how he was making her feel. His hand drifted to the apex of her thighs, dipping down to rub at the needy bundle of nerves peeking out of her soft pink folds, begging to be touched. Her body jerked at the sudden jolt of ecstasy and her back arched, causing his cock to press harder against her G-spot.

"Spike!" she cried out, her thrusting becoming erratic as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, luv." His voice was rough and choppy, like a violent sea, as he strained to bring her to completion. He added more pressure to his ministrations against her clit, working her nerves into a frenzy. "Jus' let it...go..."

And she did. The force of her orgasm bursting through her, sending her into a hazy euphoria that sparkled behind her closed eyes. Her body shook and twitched, making her scream his name from the sheer intensity of her physical reaction.

It was his own cry of release that finally brought her back to some semblance of reality. "Oh, Buffy. I love you. Baby, love you so much," Spike rumbled sweetly as he kissed the inside of her wrist.

Oh, God...

And the world came crashing back down.







A/N: Uh-oh... *winks*

Spike watched as Buffy disappeared down the hallway, wincing slightly when he heard the door click shut.

There was no mistaking the expression on her face before they were interrupted by the shrill ringing of the telephone. She had been seconds away from bolting, a string of angry words already lining up on her tongue, just waiting to cut him down. The fear shone brightly in her eyes and her whole body trembled, tensed for retreat.

With a sigh of complete frustration, he stood up from the couch and marched to the wet bar. He picked up a rock glass from its decorative pyramid and stared at it for a moment.

In one way or another, this thing between them would end. Maybe it would end in the way he hoped, that she would stop fighting her feelings and admit that she needed him. Of course, if he took into account the most recent event, their end would come with Buffy leaving or with him sending her away.

He was at rope's end.





******




Leaning against the door, Buffy took a minute to steady her breath. Slowly she brought the phone in her hand up to her ear, swallowing hard to clear her throat from the sadness that had thickened there.

"I'm here, Dawn," she finally got out.

"Are you okay? I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours. You didn't pick up your cell phone," Dawn's worried voice replied.

Vaguely, Buffy realized that she had no idea where her cell phone even was. It had probably been forgotten in the midst of all the hustle to get her to the hospital and was most likely gone by now.

"I'm fine. There was just a..." Severe mental breakdown "A little accident."

"Accident? Omigod! Buffy, are you all right?"

No, not really.

"I'm fine, Dawn. Really."

"Was it a car accident? Was anyone else hurt?"

Buffy felt her heart drop. Someone was definitely hurt, but she couldn't blame it on some external source. No, she had caused it, caused it all.

"No, not a car accident. Everyone else is fine," she said, trying to ignore how sick to her stomach that last lie made her.

"Are you with Spike? He answered the phone."

Something inside of her broke and the tears she had been holding back suddenly rushed forward. "Oh, Dawnie..."

"Buffy? What happened? What's wrong?"

"I screwed up. God, Dawn, I screwed up so bad."

There was nothing but silence at the other end of the line for what seemed like hours. If anything, it only made her cry harder. Her body felt like dead weight and she let herself crumple against the door, her legs splaying out as she hit the floor.

She sniffled loudly. "Remember how I told you that I was interested in Spike?"

Dawn hummed, but didn't say anything.

"Well, the truth is, we've been kinda seeing each other."

"Kinda?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess we're together. He told me he loved me and-"

"He told you he loved you! Holy crap, Buffy!"

Buffy couldn't help but smile. "I know."

"What did you do? Kick his ass?"

"No! Why would you think-"

"Did you call him a liar?"

"No, I didn't, Dawn," she retorted. Although to be honest, Dawn probably had some basis to her assumptions. Those three little words had never been received well by her, making her lash out in anger at the poor, unsuspecting sap that had uttered them.

"But it didn't end in a fairytale kiss either, did it?" Dawn said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Not really. In fact, if she recalled correctly, most of the time it ended with the beginning of another argument. Or sex...

"Oh, god! I'm such a horrible person!" Buffy exclaimed, banging her head against the door. "Why can't I just be normal? Why do I have to be such a freak?"

"I keep asking myself the same thing."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Not helping."

"Well, fuck, Buffy-"

"Dawn!"

"What?" Over the phone, Buffy could hear her little sister gesturing in frustration. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I can say fuck if I want to. I can go get it on with my boyfriend, if I had one, and I can certainly tell you where to stick it if you're acting like a complete moron! Which you are, by the way."

"No, you-"

"Yes. Yes, I can," Dawn told her. "I love you, Buffy. You're my sister and you'll always be my sister. You took care of me after Mom died and I know I've been really crappy about showing it, but I feel so blessed to have you in my life and nothing will ever change that. But I'm an adult now. You don't have to take care of me anymore because you taught me how to take care of myself."

A stronger wave of sobs wrenched themselves from her tired body and this time, she couldn't push them away. Tears rained down her reddened cheeks, stinging her hot skin. Dawn didn't need her anymore. If this were any other day, Buffy would have ignored the declaration, would have brushed it off with some sort of joke about how Dawn wouldn't be able to pair her socks together without her around. But today, the truth was cold and harsh and real, refusing to abandon its stronghold even against the army of her will.

"You can let it go. Nothing bad is going to happen if you stop worrying about everyone else's happiness and go get some for yourself. I want you to be happy."

"But I-"

"Jesus, Buffy! For once in your damn life, listen to me!" Dawn shouted. "I know you better than anyone on the planet. You wouldn't be nearly this upset about someone you had no feelings for. You like Spike, in fact, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you are actually falling for him. Tell me I'm wrong."

She wanted to. With a sarcastic cackle, at that. She wanted to scream at her sister that she was completely off-base and that the only interest she had in Spike was purely professional. But that would be a lie, and for some reason, her mouth wouldn't work if the words coming out were even a hint untruthful. They just lingered and burned her tongue, only being soothed by the absolution of honesty.

"You're..." Buffy paused, trying to come to grips with what her next words meant. "You're not wrong."

"What are you so afraid of then?"

Now that was a damn good question. What was she afraid of? She knew what she'd told Spike, that she was afraid he would leave her and to some extent, that was true. He was an unknown variable, a round block in a square hole, and she couldn't control him. If he wanted to leave, he would and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Just like she couldn't control her mom's illness or her dad's desire for a new life or Parker's true nature. And maybe she was trying to push Spike away so that she had control over something because letting him in gave her power over nothing, not even her own emotions.

"I can't control it."

Dawn sighed. "No, you can't, but that doesn't mean it's gonna end badly or even end at all. Did you ever let yourself imagine that you could actually be happy with him? What's the worst that's gonna happen?"

"That I'll push him away and he'll hate me."

"Seriously? That man couldn't hate you no matter how much you tried to sabotage your relationship."

"You don't even know him, Dawn."

"I don't need to know him," she replied with a giggle. "He's on television right now telling the world how much you mean to him."

"What?"

"Do you have a t.v. in your room?"

"Yeah," Buffy said hesitantly.

"Go turn it on. It's on MTV."

Jumping up from the floor, she ran to the bedside table and snatched up the remote, pressing the buttons as quickly as her fingers would allow her. The channels flashed in a blur of colors and voices until she finally found the right station. It was pretty hard to miss anyway, with Spike's handsome face plastered all over it.

“But it has been rumored that Drusilla has had relationships outside of your marriage, isn’t that correct?”

“No man wants t’ admit that his wife went out seekin’ other partners, but I’d be lyin’ if I said that it wasn’t true. She had admitted t’ me on a couple o’ different occasions that she was seein’ other people.”

“And yet, she was the one who filed for a divorce.”

“I wanted t’ work it out, but she had already made her mind up to leave,” Spike said, shaking his head.

“Is it hard to see her with another man?”

Spike laughed nervously. “That’s a difficult question.”

“I'll be honest, in the beginning it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest, it hurt a lot. But now? No, it’s not hard at all. If she wants t’ be with someone else and he makes her happy, then I can only wish them the best of luck.”

“The pictures. Who is she?”

The screen cut to several pictures of that day on the Strip, of them kissing while tourists walked by, completely unaware of what they were ignoring.

“That would be my girlfriend.”

“Can you tell me anything about her?”

“She saved my life.”

Buffy watched, dumbstruck. He was talking about her and wearing the biggest grin she'd ever seen.

"I'm thinking there is quite a story there," Kurt said with a knowing smile.

Spike nodded. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her."

"How do you feel about people saying it might be too soon to get into another relationship, especially considering that your divorce isn't even finalized yet?"

"I feel like people are entitled t' their own opinions, but in the end, if I love someone an' want t' be with them, not much is gonna stop me from doin' that. As far as the divorce goes, Dru an' I are done regardless o' what the courts say."

"So it's pretty safe to say that your new relationship is getting serious then."

Spike looked off-camera and arched an eyebrow before nodding and returning his attention back to the interviewer. "I'm in love with her. I'd say that we're passed the gettin' part."

Taking a deep breath, Buffy moved the phone back to her ear. “I slept with him.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Dawn, this is serious. I shouldn’t have-”

“What? Got some release from a guy who worships the ground you walk on? Got down with the horizontal Macarena with someone you are falling for? What’s the big?”

“Horizontal Maca- Is this what they’re teaching you in college?”

“You’re changing the subject again. What’s the problem?”

“It’s too soon for us to be-”

Dawn groaned. “That’s lame. You’re both adults. He likes you. You like him. You think he looks hot in his tight jeans. You get it on. No. Big. Deal.”

“It’s not that simp-”

“Actually, it is. An insert tab A into slot B kinda simple.”

“Oh god,” Buffy yelped. “Berkley has turned my baby sister into a sex therapist. You’re not doing drugs are you?”

“Now that would be an interesting job.”

“Dawn!”

“Whatever. No, I have not been doing drugs. I’m just too tired to bullshit,” Dawn said with a yawn.

Buffy’s eyes popped up to the clock and eeped when she realized it was almost four in the morning. “I should let you get some sleep. I’m sure you have classes tomorrow.”

“I do.” Dawn yawned again. “Buffy?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor, would you? Quit worrying so damn much. Go enjoy your life for once and while you’re at it, don’t fuck up a good thing.”





******




A half an hour later found Spike sitting on the couch, staring at the double shot of bourbon in front of him.

He couldn't count the number of times he'd wanted to barge into the bedroom and ask her what the hell had happened, but he never moved. What would have been the point?

His head shot up when he heard the door open, his heart pounding heavily in his chest as he waited for her to round the corner. Her form finally came into view and she stopped just short of the living area.

"Hi," she said softly.

Spike swallowed hard. She had changed out of her towel and into his discarded shirt from earlier. Was she trying to kill him? The picture she made and the reality of the situation didn't match up, not when she was planning on leaving but still made the effort to imprint herself in his life.

Glancing back down at his drink, he could only respond with a short nod. He didn't know what to say. Should he beg her to stay or tell her to get the hell out of his life once and for all? Would it matter what he said?

"Are you drinking?"

He should have been furious that she even brought that up, considering she was the whole reason he had even poured that drink, but the tone of her voice caused a different reaction.

"No," he told her, shaking his head. "It's jus' in case."

She took a few steps forward. "Just in case?"

"Yeah. Jus' in case you leave."

Bracing himself for a fight, he was shocked when it never came and even more shocked when she walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the coffee table, grasping his hands in hers.

"I'm not leaving."

"You're not?"

"No. Unless...unless you want me to." She had a hopeful expression on her beautiful face, her eyes wide in question.

"I don't want you t' leave, luv. You know I don't."

She nodded and let out a sigh of relief. "Good. I was hoping you would say that."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, maybe because I am a complete idiot. I almost did something really stupid and from the looks of it, you were expecting it to happen," she told him.

She had lost him back at the 'almost did something' part. From where he stood, they had gone beyond almost and went straight for best shag of his life. It was after that that she'd...

Oh. Right. That's what she had meant.

Wait a bloody minute... "Does that mean you don't think that...it wasn't...I mean, you an' me wasn't a...mistake?"

"I think I've wasted too much time worrying about what's right or wrong. All I know is that you made me feel so...loved. How could that ever be a mistake?"














A/N: Well....?

Night had turned into day so quickly it made Spike's head spin. Where had the hours gone? It was as if they had just been cut away from his life by some unseeable force and he felt cheated.

Because this was the most brilliant moment of his life.

Buffy snuggled against his side, her head resting on his chest as she breathed softly, sleeping away as he held her in his arms. The cool Arizona air flowed through the open doors leading to a sunny patio and washed over his body like an epiphany. This was heaven, it had to be.

Of course, there was that nagging voice somewhere in the hidden corners of his mind that kept repeating itself over and over and over again. It said not to get too comfortable, not to expect miracles because she would most likely wake up and burst his bubble just as she had the dozen or so times before. It said not to trust her, to steel against the urge to believe anything that came out of that beautiful, delectable mouth that tempted him so.

Even as he tried to make excuses for why things were different now, he knew that there was a possibility that everything would crumble the second they had to face the real world again. He knew and yet, at this moment, he couldn't give a damn. It was too perfect, too quiet, too serene to believe that things would explode into chaos. Right now, all was right in his world and the longer he could hold onto that, the happier he would be, at least for the meantime.

No matter what happened, though, things had changed between them. Spike had finally gotten a glimpse at the real girl behind the tough exterior, the girl that was scared and just as screwed up as he was. If anything, it made him love her even more.

Not that it mattered a lick. In the end, it was all up to her. She would do what she felt she needed to despite his feelings for her. He was just a puppet in her stage act and she would continue to pull his strings, making him dance and spin to suit her. And he would gladly pretend to be whatever or whoever she needed him to be.

It wasn't Buffy waking up but the sound of the telephone that finally brought him out of his thoughts. Careful not to move too much so he wouldn't wake her up, he reached over and grabbed the cordless phone.

"'lo?" he said softly.

"Spike? It's Anya."

He was amazed at how calm she sounded. She normally spoke at a screeching decibel level, one that made everyone around her know exactly who the boss of their not-so-little operation was.

"Yeah, pet, what's up?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end before she finally replied. "How is she?"

His eyebrows rose. If he didn't know better, Spike could almost say he heard a bit of concern in his manager's voice. "She's fine. Still sleepin' though."

"Good. That's good. We were all...you know, worried," Anya told him.

"Oh, that's-"

"I'm sorry about last night."

"Last night?"

He could hear her swallow hard and fidget with the telephone cord on the other end. "Yeah, when I gave you a hard time about the show. I wasn't thinking. Buffy's health is much more important than some silly show even if we did sell out in seventeen minutes...oh, shoot, I mean... never mind."

Spike chuckled. "There's nothin' t' apologize for, Anya. You're jus' lookin' out for us, is all. It's why we hired you in the first place."

"We're okay, then?"

"We were never not okay, pet," Spike said with a smile.

"Good," she replied before sucking in a breath. "So...about the show..."

Yeah, about the show... At this point, he wasn't sure what he should do about tonight's concert. Last night he had been ready to cancel the whole thing, fans be damned, but this morning, he wasn't so convinced he should risk it. People were already pissed off about the multiple dates he'd already had to cancel and if he did it again, there would be some serious backlash.

Then again, he was so tired he could hardly think straight. He hadn't gotten in a decent sleep since that first night Vegas and he was running on fumes. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go on with the concert when he was so exhausted that he couldn't even keep his eyes open. It'd be pretty hard to perform if he was falling asleep at the mic.

"I'm not sure yet," he finally told her. "What do you think?"

"People aren't going to be happy if we cancel on them again. But," she began with a sigh, "if you need the time off, then I guess we'll think of something."

"What about the rest o' them? Olie, Xander...Oz, what do they think?"

"The same thing. It's your call, Spike."

"No pressure, then, huh?" he replied with a rumble of laughter.

"Just call me when you figure it out. I've got a plane on standby, so if you decide to do the show, let me know and I'll get you and Buffy over here."

"Right, then. I'll give you a call." He ran a hand through his messy curls and exhaled a heavy breath.

The phone went dead on Anya's side and Spike hit the end button before setting the receiver on the night stand.

Damn it, he hated having these responsibilities. The whole business aspect of music really turned him off and there were days he almost wished he were a no-name nothing still playing in seedy London bars. He was just a bloody musician. He wasn't David-sodding-Geffen. All he wanted was to write music and play it for anyone who wanted to listen. He didn't give a damn about the rest of it.

"What's wrong?"

Spike started at the sound of her voice. "Jesus!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Buffy said as she sat up.

"It's okay." His heart was beating a mile a minute and not only because she had scared the crap out of him. "Did I wake you?"

She shrugged before lifting her arms to stretch, his shirt riding high along her thighs and making him shudder. "You were laughing. Kinda hard to stay asleep when your pillow is moving."

"It's still early. You wanna go back t' sleep?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "And quit changing the subject. What's wrong?"

He folded his arms over his chest and arched an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think somethin' is wrong?"

"That." She pointed a long slender finger at his face. "You're all with the frowny face."

"Well, it looks like you've got me there, luv."

"Spike..." Buffy gave him an exasperated glare. "What's wrong? I thought we were going to try this whole...sharing...uh, thing and that pretty much requires you to, you know, share."

At that, some of the heaviness that was crushing his chest let up and his heart started to slow down. "I just... That was Anya on the phone an' she wanted t' know what I wanted t' do about the concert tonight. Still not sure what I'm gonna do."

"Not to sound egotistical, but it's not because of me, is it? 'Cause I told you last night that I don't want you stopping your whole life just because I can't deal with my problems," Buffy said with a worried expression.

"Luv, you had a rough night an' I don't want you travellin' if-"

She put a hand on his arm and gave him one of her sparkling smiles. "I'm fine, Spike. I'm more than fine. I'm super fine!"

Spike couldn't help but to laugh. There she was, his girl. She had that spark back in her fiery green eyes, the one that had been observably missing for a few days now, the one he was so afraid she would never have again. It was that same spark that brought out her sharp tongue and snarky personality, the same one he had fallen in love with at the very start of it all.

"Actually, kitten, it's really got nothin' t' do with you," he told her with a smirk.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, smacking him lightly in the shoulder.

They laughed together for several minutes before Spike finally sobered up. "I'm jus' so bloody tired, Buffy."

Frowning, Buffy scooted closer to him and brushed her thumb under his left eye, where he had a big, dark circle, no doubt. "You didn't get any sleep last night, did you? God, I am so sorry, Spike. I screwed everything up."

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, giving her fingers a quick kiss before moving to hold them against his chest. "It's not your fault. I've been tired for a while an' last night jus' added t' it."

"I'm not going to let you make me feel better about what happened," she said with a stubborn resolve.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her. "You should jus' let it go an' then you won't have t' worry about anyone makin' anyone feel better."

"Ugh!" She threw her hands up. "You and your crazy...Spike-logic! You make it sound so easy."

"It is easy. You're the one makin' it tougher on yourself than it needs t' be."

"Yeah? Well! You...you...you have bed head!" she shouted lamely, giving him a sheepish quirk of her eyebrows.

Spike glanced up at the wacky curls that hung over his forehead and brought his hand up to brush them back. "Suppose I do need a shower, huh?"

"Oh, I don't know." Rearranging herself so that she was sitting on her knees, Buffy swept her fingers through his hair, playing with the two-toned curls and combing out the tangles. "You look kinda cute with bed head."

His eyes popped open. "Really?"

With a saucy grin, she nodded. "You're hot stuff, Mr. Rock Star."

His heart skipped a beat. Where was she going with this? And why the hell wasn't she telling him to get away from her? Maybe he was delirious from exhaustion, but it really sounded like she was coming onto him.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked with a hint of caution.

Normally, this would be the point where she'd start backtracking and making excuses for why it was so wrong for them to be together. So when she didn't do that and kissed him gently on the lips instead, Spike felt like the whole world was spinning off-kilter.

He moaned into her mouth as her tongue slipped passed his lips and tasted him. His hand dove into her soft blonde mane of hair, keeping her from bolting away if she had any second thoughts. It probably wasn't the most gentlemanly thing to do, but damnit, he didn't want to end.

And then she shocked him again. This time by climbing onto him and straddling his hips. Apparently, there were no second thoughts to be had.

"Fuck, kitten!" he rumbled against her. She wasn't wearing any panties and her wet heat was burning him alive even through the barrier of his jeans. He groaned and fisted the hem of the t-shirt, his muscles twitching to rip the soft fabric off of her all together. "You better not be teasin' me, baby."

Suddenly, Buffy pulled her head away and blinked at him. Her chest was heaving and her lips were slightly parted and swollen from their kissing and she just stared at him blankly.

He wanted to scream. Hell, he wanted to break down and start crying like the sodding ponce he was. She was driving him insane with this game.

"Oh sod it all t'-"

Her index finger cut him off as it pressed against his mouth. "Shhh."

For whatever reason, he was compelled to do exactly as she said or rather implied with her shushing and gentle gesture. He felt frozen, caught up in the spell she had worked around him, and he couldn't even bring himself to be upset any more. All he could do was lay there and watch her.

Her hand fell away from his lips and she openly stared at him, something she hadn't ever done without being caught in a blush. She slowly lifted her hands up and cupped her breasts.

Spike squeezed his eyes shut as his hips bucked beneath her. God, this woman was going to kill him!

"Open your eyes, Spike," she whispered huskily.

He swallowed hard before letting his eyes flutter open. Her gaze was still locked to his, making him shiver from its intensity.

Soon her fingers were trailing over her breasts, lingering only slightly at her hard nipples before drifting down her flat stomach and sliding between her silken thighs. She bit her lower lip and moaned as she rubbed against her sodden folds, her eyes never leaving his. Then without warning, her hands moved away and ran along the juncture of her legs until they clasped over his and began to gently pry his fingers off of the t-shirt.

"Are you leavin'?" He couldn't help how desperate he sounded and he silently cringed.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she inhaled a shaky breath. "Why would I leave?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

"I-" He let his hands drop away from her. "Jus' don't, okay? Don't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere."

She gripped the t-shirt and quickly pulled it over her head, throwing it on the floor. "And I'm not teasing you."

His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. "You're not? 'Cause, luv, I gotta say if you're screwin' with me, I'm gonna lose it."

"Like last night," she said softly, her arms coming up to cover her breasts. "I know saying I'm sorry doesn't make it better. I know nothing will ever make it okay and you have every right not to trust me. I get that, I do. And if you want me to leave right now, I will, but that doesn't mean I want to go."

With a heavy sigh, he moved his hands up her thighs to rest on her hips. "I don't want you t' leave, Buffy. I jus' want you t' be straight with me. Straight with yourself."

She nodded, her eyes dropping to where their bodies rested together, but her gaze was frustratingly absent of the lust that had been there only a minute ago. Fuck, him and his big mouth. After all of this and he was still allowing that shadow of a doubt to linger in her mind, letting her mull it over until she'd gone and talked herself out of being with him.

"You don't know how hard this has been for me, luv. Seeing you, holding you..." Slowly, he let his fingers drift inward and down, brushing against the soft curls at the apex of her thighs. "Touching you, tasting you. I've loved this body an' I love you. Then you slap my hand away an' tell me it's all been some huge mistake, that it's wrong. Don't know how much more o' this I can take."

"Does nothing I said last night matter, Spike?"

"Yeah, it matters. It matters until you shove me down an' make me feel worthless again," he rumbled. He could feel the tears begin to gather in his eyes, but he was too tired to care about how unmanly they'd make him look. Not that it had ever mattered in the past. She was good at making him cry despite how the act disgusted him.

Her eyes widened, horrified. "Worthless? I don't think you're worthless, Spike."

"No? Doesn't seem like that from where I'm sittin'." His jaw tensed when he saw the hurt rush over her features. "Look, kitten, I'm not tryin' t' make you feel bad, but you need t' understand what you're doin' t' me. I've never asked anythin' more than what you're willin' t' give me, but there are jus' some gifts you can't take back. You can't let me love you an' then ask me t' pretend it didn't happen."

"I'm not asking you to do that."

Spike shook his head. "I know you don't love me an' that's okay. I'll take what I can get. But I need t' know somethin', Buffy. Do you even like me? Do you even want t' try an' be with me? Or is this all jus' a part o' your need t' have control?"

"Oh, G- No!" Suddenly, she was off of him and standing next to the bed. She grabbed the gold and red throw blanket from the foot of the mattress and quickly wrapped it around her body. "You keep talking about how this is so hard for you, but you seem to forget that this hasn't exactly been a walk in the park for me either. Of course I like you, Spike! More than like, I..."

His blue eyes narrowed as he sat up and swung his legs over the bed. "More than like?"

"I want to be with you. I've wanted it for a long time, but I couldn't because I wouldn't be in control anymore. Don't you see? Being with you makes me crazy. It makes me feel like there might actually be a happy ending. But the last time I felt like that, my world fell apart and I promised myself I wouldn't ever let anyone have that much power over me." She took a few steps forward until she was standing between his legs. "I want to be with you, Spike. I don't care how out of control I feel. This could work. You and me, and I'm willing to swallow my fear to see where it leads us."

"An' you jus' came to this conclusion last night?" He couldn't help the skepticism that was entangled in his tone. It had been months, months of her denying her feelings for him and shooting him down and suddenly, it was all okay? Suddenly, she was serious about making their relationship work? Hell, serious about them actually having a relationship? It seemed too good to be true.

"Yes. I did. The moment I heard you tell the world you were in love with me."

He blinked in shock. She was talking about the interview, but he'd had no idea that she'd seen it. There was no mention of it last night even though he knew that would have been the only time she could have watched it. Not that her seeing it was a bad thing, he had just pictured her watching it under different circumstances. With him, so he could see her reaction.

"Not like it's a big secret, luv. I tell you all the time," he told her with a thick voice.

Buffy smiled warmly and his frozen insides melted in an instant. "You said you didn't care what anyone thought, that if you loved someone nothing would stop you from being with them. And you love me. You told every one in the English-speaking world that you don't care who knows that you love me."

"Give it a day. They'll have that prattlin' dubbed in every language by Friday."

She giggled. "So everyone in Japan will know how much you love me, huh?"

"Mmm, the Japanese are big Dingoes fans," he muttered.

Her hands slid up to his shoulders and a tremble rocked through his body at her touch. It was too much. Reaching up, he covered her hands with his own and pulled them away. When he glanced up, he could see her confusion and the pain of rejection in her eyes.

"I've been waiting for so long t' hear that from you an' I believe every word o' it. Things are different now, yeah? After last night, you finally letting me in..." He blushed furiously when he realized the double meaning of his words then shook it off, letting a somber expression set in. "It's different. It's real this time. So, I don't want you t' misunderstand me when I say I want t' take this slow."

"Slow?"

Bloody hell, I can't believe I'm actually saying this. "Yeah, slow. Last night, with you, was brilliant, but I don't want t' have t' worry that you'll run from the room next time we have sex. So, maybe we should jus' take our time, get t' know one another again before we go rushin' into anythin' physical."

"Spike, I'm not going to run from-"

He held up his hand to stop her protest. "Can you jus' humor me, luv? Maybe when I've gotten some sleep I'll realize that this was a dumb idea, but right now, I jus' can't take another beating."

"I'm sor-"

"Oh, an' you'll be stoppin' that nonsense as well. So, slow an' no more bloody apologizin'. We're gonna wipe the slate clean, start fresh," he said with resolve.

Spike was amazed when she didn't argue with him.

With a big smile, she nodded. "Okay."

"Good," he replied with a yawn as he scratched his head. "Now, I'm gonna go take a shower an' wash the grime off. Why don't you go order some breakie for us an' then I'll call Anya an' let her know what we're gonna do about the concert tonight."

"Okay."

He frowned. She was saying 'okay', but she didn't look at all okay. Standing up, he cupped her cheek and tilted her face up so he could see into those gorgeous eyes of hers. "I love you, Buffy. That hasn't changed an' it's not goin' t' change. I jus' need t' get my head together. Can you give me some time?"

"I don't want to lose you," she said so softly he almost didn't hear her.

"Not happenin'. You're it. You're the one, Buffy."






******






Buffy poked at her scrambled eggs as she watched some stupid entertainment show out of the corner of her eye.

This morning hadn't gone as planned at all and she wasn't even sure why it hadn't. Of course, she deserved it. She had done this to herself with all of her wishy-washy actions and empty promises. It was no wonder now that she actually meant it that he wouldn't believe her or that he wanted to go slow to make sure she wasn't going to break his heart again.

Suddenly, she felt like the girl who cried wolf.

And the funny part was that she hadn't seen it coming at all. When she'd woken up this morning, she had really believed that they could just move forward. Boy, was she ever dumb.

Even thinking about what had happened last night after their little chat about how loved he made her feel, she should have seen this coming. He wasn't exactly jumping for joy at her admission; in fact, he really hadn't said anything at all. She had taken his lack of response as a sign that he was just really tired, which, now she knew was only partly true. One of them, probably him, had mentioned getting some rest and she had followed him to the bedroom, crawling into bed and cuddling up to him like she didn't have a care in the world.

Looking back, she wondered if he'd even wanted her to sleep with him.

She scooped up a fork-full of eggs and slid it into her mouth, wincing immediately when she realized how cold her food had gotten.

A part of her wanted to throw in the towel. He deserved so much better than her and it was pretty obvious that she was causing a lot more pain than happiness at this point. Maybe it would be better if she just left. Spike could find someone else and...

Swallowing hard, she almost choked on her food. No! She didn't want him to find someone else. The thought of him with another woman made her sick to her stomach. It was selfish, she knew that, but she wanted him all to herself. She wanted him to love only her.

But that didn't diminish the fact that she wasn't good enough for him.

"Please tell me you ordered coffee."

Her head shot up so quickly that she practically knocked her plate of food off of the table. Silently and not for the first time that morning, she cursed herself. She supposed she could add 'spaz' to the long list of names she was mentally compiling that would be a little more fitting than Buffy. Yep, it would fit nicely between 'screw-up' and 'stupid bitch'.

"Yeah, coffee. Let me get that for you," she all-but-squealed as she stood up and reached for the carafe.

Before she could wrap her hand around it, he picked the pot up and grabbed for a coffee cup. "I've got it. You don't need t' wait on me, pet," he told her with a smile.

"That's my job, Spike," she said, plopping back down in the chair.

When she saw his jaw tense, she knew she had made a mistake in bringing that up, no matter how innocent she had meant it. "Do you really want t' have this conversation with me now?" He glared at her, warning her to tread lightly.

Not since the day she'd found him at his house, halfway to dead and hurting, had she seen this side of Spike. It was just shy of his breaking point and considering what had happened the last time he had gotten to this place, she really didn't want to push him over the edge.

That didn't mean she agreed with him about not being his personal assistant anymore, but this wasn't the time to argue.

"No, I don't." Her gaze dropped to her barely-touched plate of food.

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a frustrated groan. "Sorry. I don't know what the soddin' hell is wrong with me. Didn't mean t' snap at you, luv."

"You're tired and you don't want to fight anymore, that's what is wrong with you," she replied, sighing. "And I know you didn't mean to snap at me. I just tend to bring that out in you, I guess."

"Doesn't make it okay." He sat down across the table from her and dumped some sugar in his coffee.

She grinned at him. "Sometimes I deserve it. I'm surprised you don't do it more."

"What can I say? I'm the bloody king of patience."

"No, you're not. You suck at patience, Spike," she told him, chuckling when he gave her a fierce frown. "But you're really good at forgiveness."

His brilliant blue eyes softened at that and he gave her a lopsided smile. "Can't help myself. I'm a sucker for a pretty girl an' a pouty lip."

"Okay, I so do not pout."

"Yes you do," he replied, taking a long drink of his coffee.

They sat in comfortable silence for almost thirty minutes before a blurb about the Dingoes' latest concert on the television jump started their conversation again.

"Hey, they loved last night's show! Woo-hoo!"

Spike didn't respond to her cheering, instead he set his mug on the table and folded his arms over his chest before asking, "What do you think about Albuquerque?"

"I think if you want to perform tonight, we should go," she replied. "And if you don't, we should stay here."

"You're a big help."

Buffy threw her hands up. "What do you want me to say? You're exhausted, Spike. I can't make you go on stage this time, not when I know you might not be up to it. I know you don't want to let your fans down, but you can't kill yourself trying to run on empty. Do you want to go and just play it by ear? Maybe you'll feel up to it once you get to the arena or what ever you call it."

"The lot o' you is tryin' t' make my head explode with all o' these damn decisions, you know that right?"

"Are you telling me you want someone to tell you what to do?" she asked, her eyebrow arched high.

He rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like I can't make a decision for myself."

"Well, you're the one saying you-"

"Oh, shut your pretty lil' mouth," he said with a grin. "I like your idea. Let's go an' we'll see how I feel. We've got plenty o' time before the show's supposed t' start jus' in case."

"Do you want me to call Anya?"

His smile faded. "Buffy, you don't have to-"

"Hey! Girlfriends can call to make travel plans, especially girlfriends that have control issues and have to know what's going on all the time," she told him, waging her finger.

"All right, luv. If you don't mind, could you call Anya an' get us a flight to New Mexico?"

Standing up, she walked over to him and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Tingley Coliseum- Albuquerque, New Mexico







Stepping into the huge arena did nothing to make Spike's decision about that night's show any easier; in fact, it made it ten times more difficult. His stomach pitched violently as he gazed across the seats that staggered almost up to the rafters, thousands of them in neat rows that wrapped around the inside of the building and surrounded him like a ring of flames. He could see a face in each uncomfortable chair, fans who had paid to see a show tonight and who may be sorely disappointed depending on his final say on the matter.

It wasn't bloody fair. Why put this decision on his shoulders? He didn't want to be the one who let everyone down.

Of course, he had to face the facts. Either way, the fans would be getting the short end of the stick and it would be all his doing. If he cancelled the show, the fans would be upset, but if he decided to bite the bullet and perform tonight, they wouldn't be getting his best anyway. And that was the crux of his dilemma. No matter what he did, people were going to be unhappy.

He rubbed at the tense muscle between his eyebrows and shut his eyes for a second. There was no sense in beating himself up over this. After all, he couldn't change it, couldn't escape the inevitable, and he certainly couldn't wish it away.

"Do you want me to get you anything?"

Spike glanced at Buffy, who was walking beside him as they made their way to the stage, and sighed. Things between them had been strained, at best, since they'd left the hotel in Phoenix. In fact, the question she had just asked him was the most she'd said in hours.

"Buffy," he began in a tired, thoroughly frustrated tone, "you don't have t' get me anythin'. I can get-"

"I know you can get it yourself. I know, Spike." She suddenly stopped walking and grabbed his forearm to halt his movement. "I'm trying to be helpful, that's all. Nothing more. I'm worried about you and I just...I just want to help."

God, he felt like an ass. His exhaustion was making him irrational and, he could admit, a tad bit irritable. Not that his being tired was an excuse for lashing out at her, but it did make it a whole heap more difficult to control.

"Fuck," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. His gaze met hers and he gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. Buggerin'...I can't keep my head on straight."

She smiled brightly. "So, do you want me to get you something?"

"Actually, I could use some caffeine. Lots an' lots o' caffeine. With extra sugar. You sure it's no trouble, luv? 'Cause I could-"

"Spike," she said with a sigh.

He tossed his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right."

With a triumphant grin, she turned to walk away.

"Hey, Buffy?" he called out before she got more than a few steps from him.

"Yeah?"

Shoving his hands into his jeans' pockets, he looked up at her through his eyelashes. His eyes narrowed into dark slits as he studied her, all the while trying to figure out where her thoughts were now. Sometimes she was so difficult to read.

"Are we...okay?" Or did I fuck this one up for good.

She blinked, her easy expression faltering slightly. "I thought about asking you the same thing."

"And? Where does that leave us?"

"I don't..." She swallowed hard and glanced at the floor. "You said you wanted to take things slow. So here I am. Going slow." There was no anger in her tone; it was just a simple statement of truth.

Spike felt the breath he was holding release from his tense body and he visibly slumped in relief. "I wish I could take back this mornin'," he told her, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

She shrugged. "Well, you can't and neither can I."

"Buffy, I-"

"Look, I'm not going to pretend I know what's going on in your head, Spike. I don't really understand what happened this morning or what your reasons are for wanting to slow things down. Maybe I'm just too..." Her voice drifted into silence and it took her a moment to finish her thought. "Maybe I'm just too stupid to get it."

"Don't say that, luv."

Lifting her head, he could see she had on her brave face, a kind of grit-your-teeth-and-just-deal-with-it look that made her seem proud even though Spike knew without a shadow of a doubt she was feeling anything but right now.

"I don't know how to do this. I'm out of my league here with this whole relationship thing, Spike. But I'm willing-" Her mouth snapped shut and she shook her head. "No, not willing. I'm determined to make this work. And I'm not saying it'll be easy because we both know it won't be, but I'm not going anywhere. So unless you decide that you don't love me anymore, then I guess you're stuck with me."

He should have been surprised by her sudden declaration, but a part of him had known it was coming. After all, this was who she was. Buffy Summers, a woman that stood her ground no matter what the odds were, who defied anyone who told her she couldn't. She had strength and a resolve so solid that it could take a beating from the ugliest of storms.

Hell, that resolve was what had taken him so long to break through to her, to make her see that she deserved to be loved and that their relationship was worth fighting for.

Oh, he wasn't kidding himself. There was a long road ahead of them and it wouldn't all be smooth sailing, but at least they'd gotten over the biggest hurdle in relatively one piece.

His tired legs moved slowly but with purpose as he walked towards her. She didn't back away even though he was so close to her that he could feel the body heat radiating from her paler-than-usual skin. Large hands reached up and cupped her cheeks, pulling her to him until their lips finally touched in a whisper-fine caress. His tongue gently teased the soft flesh of her mouth, asking for entry so he could taste her sweetness. She mewled and as her lips parted, her hands sought purchase on his lean hips.

He deepened the kiss and moved so that he could wrap his hands around her petite frame, dragging her against his body and basking in her warmth.

"That'll never happen, luv. I'll always love you. Never gonna give you a reason t' walk away."







******







Her head was swimming with images and bits and pieces of conversation, but nothing was coming together, nothing that would explain why Spike was suddenly putting on the brakes when he had been the one running red lights for weeks. She just couldn't wrap her brain around what had happened this morning especially not when she had offered him something she was positive he wanted.

Soft Bohemian-style indie music flowed through the warm and wonderfully smelling Starbucks and Buffy was suddenly very happy to be somewhere familiar even if it was just a chain-store selling overpriced coffee. Despite the time, it was uncommonly busy and she stood patiently at the end of a six person line, waiting for her turn at the register.

Life had been turned upside down and thrown over a sharp shoulder. She didn't know what was right or wrong anymore and everything she thought she knew was tossed into the clay until it was mashed and broken. It was all gray these days, blurred, swirled, but gray nonetheless.

And she had been a black and white girl for a long time.

It was her turn in line and she quickly gave the cashier her order before moving towards the corner and sitting down in one of the funky wooden chairs.

Looking back at the last few months of her life, she was startled by how much had changed, by how much she had changed. She was awash with all of these unfamiliar and uncontrollable emotions and she wasn't even trying to fight them anymore. The woman she was six months ago would never have let her guard down enough for that to happen. Of course, Buffy now knew that the person she used to be wasn't as infallible as she had once believed and had eventually let something permeate that hard exterior.

No, not something. Someone.

As much as she wanted to blame her current emotional instability on Spike, though, the truth was she had let him in. Willingly. She'd had every opportunity to run away from him and the feelings he stirred within her, but every time, every damn time, she had chosen to stay. All of that fighting and denying was nothing more than a last ditch effort to keep those walls up by the scared little girl inside, the one that feared the change to come. But it wasn't enough to make her walk away.

"Buffy," the barista called out as she set the finished coffees on the counter.

Standing up, Buffy walked to the counter and picked up the two cups before turning towards the small stand where the sugar was. She popped the lid on Spike's Venti quad-shot latte and started dumping the contents of the seven sugar packets she had ripped open into the creamy liquid. With a quick stir and two more sugar packets, she finally placed the lid back on the paper cup then grabbed her own.

She didn't think she'd ever been disappointed to leave a Starbucks before, but for some reason as she walked out the door, she wished she could have stayed just a little longer. Maybe she was a bit homesick. Not that she wanted to go home or that she didn't enjoy traveling, but with her life seemingly spinning out of control, she was looking for anything familiar to hold on to, to keep her steady.

The arena was only a couple blocks away and she made it back in no time at all. Finding Spike in the huge building took quite a bit longer.

The sounds of voices finally reached her ears as she turned down a long corridor in the endless maze of hallways and she jogged towards the door. With a soft knock, she pushed the heavy door open and peeked inside. It looked like a standard green room with a couple of couches and a coffee table in the middle. Spike and Oliver were sitting on one sofa, Anya and Xander on the other, and Oz was parked on the floor with his back against the cement wall.

Their conversation had a serious tone about it, not that Buffy was surprised. She knew what they were discussing: whether or not to cancel the show that night. She also knew that the decision rested primarily on Spike's shoulders and that it was weighing on him pretty heavily.

And she felt horrible about it.

He could argue about it all day long and he still wouldn't be able to convince her that she didn't have something to do with this whole thing. The poor man was exhausted beyond reason and it was her fault. All of his time was spent worrying about her, taking care of her, trying to make her see and he had completely worn himself out because of it. He needed a break. And maybe, she thought, he needed a break from her.

It only solidified her desire to get in and out as quickly as possible. They didn't need her there. She'd already caused enough trouble. Besides, it was none of her business what the band decided to do about tonight's show. She was just Spike's assistant...or girlfriend, rather...which meant she really had no right to even be involved in the discussion.

"Hi," she interrupted quietly as she stepped inside. "I'm just dropping Spike's coffee off and then I'll be out of your way."

Spike's mouth opened, but Oliver cut off what ever he was about to say. "Coffee? How do you bloody rate?"

"Jus' that special, I guess," Spike replied with a smirk.

Rushing across the room, Buffy set the cup on the table in front of Spike. As she turned to walk away, she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist and pull her backwards. She landed on the couch with an audible 'oof' and suddenly found herself wedged between the two Brits with Spike's arm holding her possessively. Glancing up, she gave Spike a perplexed look and he returned it with a sleepy smile.

He leaned in, his warm breath tickling her ear, and whispered, "Want you here with me, luv."

His voice sent shivers down her spine, making the hair stand up on her arms, and she couldn't find the power to refuse him. If he wanted her there, then she would be, no questions asked, no matter how out of place she felt. He needed support and she would be that for him.

"When could we reschedule the date, Anya?" Oliver asked, his expression hard in a way Buffy had never seen before.

Anya was furiously scrolling through her Blackberry and it took her a moment to find the information she was looking for. "March, maybe, but it'll be tight," she finally announced.

"Fuck," Oliver muttered. He sat forward and turned his attention to Spike. "Well, mate, that's what it is. So what's the verdict?"

Spike sighed heavily and slumped a little against the soft cushions. His eyes were red and shined with unshed tears as his lips formed into a grim line. "I really don't want to, but I think...yeah, let's cancel."

"Dude, it'll be fine. So the fans will be pissed? They'll get over it and we'll give them one hell of a show in March," Xander said, grinning, and trying his best to smooth over the difficult situation.

"Yeah," Spike mumbled roughly. "Still doesn't make me happy about doin' it though. We've already cancelled on them once. S'not soddin' fair."

Buffy wanted to say something that would make Spike feel better, but she couldn't think of anything. He was blaming himself for this even though it wasn't his fault and there wasn't a damn thing she could say or do that would change his mind.

"No, it's not fair, but I think I speak for everyone in this room when I say we'd rather lose a few fans over this than see you collapse from exhaustion. Xander's right, they'll get over it," Oliver told him. "Family first and sod all to the bloody rest."

Everyone was nodding in agreement to Oliver's statement and suddenly, Buffy felt like she was missing something. But just as she was going to ask about it, her cell phone rang. She pulled the annoying little thing out of her pocket and frowned when she didn't recognize the number popping up.

Knowing she was interrupting their conversation, Buffy politely excused herself and walked to the corner of the room before flipping the phone open.

"This is Buffy," she said even as her gaze remained locked on Spike.

"Sneaky poppets will get no supper."

Oh, hell...

"Dru?"





******







Spike's head shot up when he heard Buffy say his soon-to-be-ex-wife's name and anger began boiling in his gut.

"What do you want?" Buffy asked.

He didn't know what Dru was saying on the other end, most likely sodding nonsense, but what ever it was, it wasn't good judging from the look on Buffy's face. "That's not true, Dru!" she exclaimed.

Oliver smacked him in the shoulder and jerked his head in Buffy's direction. "Tell her to hang up, Will. Nothin' good can come from talking to that crazy bird."

His eyes narrowed on his friend. Like he needed anyone to point out that obvious fact. Besides, he could definitely do without Oliver telling him what to do; he was quite capable of figuring it out on his own.

Spike pushed himself off the couch and stalked towards Buffy. Stopping in front of her, he held his hand out and mouthed at her to give him the phone. It looked like she was going to refuse for a moment before her eyes widened and she pulled the phone away from her ear, mouth gaping open. He snatched the phone out of her hand and cautiously lifted it to hear what kind of ridiculous blathering Dru was spewing now.

"...never love you like he loved his princess. You'll always be in the shadow of the dark mountains."

"What the bloody fuck are you on about, Drusilla?"

"William? Is that you, my darling pri-"

"I'm not your darling anything!" he shouted into the phone.

Dru cooed softly, a sound which used to make him melt like warmed chocolate, but now it just made him sick to his stomach. "You'll always be mine, William. No matter what kind of mongrels you lay down with at night."

He wasn't sure what pissed him off more, that she was still insisting she had some sort of control over him or that she thought Buffy was beneath her. It didn't really matter. His fury was blind to the whys and hows, all it knew was release and he was about to do just that.

His tone was deadly calm as he spoke. "I don't know what kind o' game you're playin', Dru, an' I really couldn't care less. But I promise you, if you ever call Buffy again, if you even think about her, I'll make you wish you'd never met me. You're nothin' t' me."

Static-filled silence drifted from the speaker for several long seconds before she started cackling. It grew louder and louder until he finally had to pull the phone away from his ear. If he didn't think she was completely off her rocker before, this left little doubt in his mind.

"Nothing? Nothing, he says." She began to howl a disjointed tune that sounded a lot like one of his songs, only eerily off-key. "I'm everything. I sing the stars' song and I look down, see you crying blood like pretty men on crucifixes. It burns, doesn't it? You've no voice and all that's left is burning memories of things you can never have again. You are nothing. Nothing without the sweet muse of pain. I could give it back to you in a bird's breath, my sweet."

His heart was beating wildly in his chest. "An' you think I want that? Pain, torment? Do you think I ever wanted that, you soddin' crazy bint?"

"You crave the pain, William. You seek it out. Gluttonous for sound lashings, twisted and barbed lines cutting through you until your soul is left to rot out in the sunshine. You can't do it without me. Only I know how to make the hurt run deep," she said, a rumbling noise echoing through the phone, like a growl.

He laughed. "Baby, your cuts were only ever skin deep an' they're all healed up now."

"You need me, William."

"The fuck I do. I've got all I need right here," he replied, his gaze finally shifting back to Buffy. Her face was full of concern, but a smile was playing on her lips and Spike felt his heart soar.

"She'll never stay. Too many demons to slay."

"Then we'll slay 'em together," he replied. "Go back t' the great big git, Dru. I'm done with you."

"Willi-" Her voice was cut off when Spike snapped the phone shut.

When he looked up, everyone was staring at him. "Enjoy the show?" he asked them, his words doused in sarcasm.

"Like a train wreck, mate," Oliver said with a gleeful grin.

Adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he felt renewed in a way that promised a total crash later, but for right now, he was practically crawling out of his skin. Ready for a fight, ready for a shag, ready to scream out his frustrations, and since two of those things were not plausible options, he'd just have to settle for a good scream.

"Well, I might be good for one more of those tonight. If you're all still up for a show, then I'm ready and willin'."






******






The arena was packed, fans screaming in a deafening tidal wave that washed over the stage and filtered into the tunnels that ran behind the scenes. The floor hummed with the footwork of several thousand people, vibrating up through the walls and rattling the roof. A surge of power seemed to electrify the building in anticipation and impatient desire.

Buffy watched as Spike ran gel through his two-toned curls in front of the mirror. He was every bit the quintessential rocker tonight with a worn-to-softness print t-shirt that used to be black but now looked like soot and torn, dark blue jeans with a heavy chain that ran from one belt loop to his back pocket. There was a leather cuff with metal studs around his right wrist and several thick rings on his fingers, not to mention the thick silver rope necklace hanging loosely against his collarbone.

He was ready to put on a show, that was for damn sure.

"I hate when you're quiet like this."

She glanced at his reflection in the mirror and caught his eyes staring back at her. "As opposed to when you can't shut me up?" she asked jokingly.

Nodding, he turned around and leaned against the makeup counter, folding his lean arms over his chest. "Least when you're talkin' I can figure out what you're thinkin' about. When you're quiet, I have no bloody clue. Makes me nervous."

"There's nothing to worry about, I promise. I was just thinking that you looked ready to rock the house."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I feel like I'm strung out on uppers an' can't get down. Not much else I can do other than go out there an' burn some of this energy off. I jus' hope I don't fuck up too bad."

"You won't. Besides, even if you did, they wouldn't care. Those people out there love you, Spike."

"Yeah?" He tilted his head to one side, his blue eyes sparkling, and then he pushed away from the counter and walked over to where she was standing. Reaching up, his hand caressed her cheek and he searched her eyes. "Now if only the people in here felt the same way."

She couldn't stop the roll of her eyes even if she wanted to. "Uh-yeah. That wasn't obvious at all."

"What can I say? I'm just a glutton for punishment," he replied with a grin. A grin that began to fade as quickly as it had appeared.

"What's wrong?"

His mouth tightened, twisting into a grimace, and he dropped his hand with a loud smack against his thigh. "Jus' somethin' Dru said comin' back t' haunt me."

They hadn't talked about his conversation with Dru at all. Sure, she'd been standing there during the whole thing, but her knowledge of it was completely one-sided. What ever the crazy woman had said, Spike hadn't been happy about it, in fact, he seemed positively livid after he'd finally hung up the phone.

"And...?"

He swung his head to the left, staring at some non-existent thing on the cement floor. "She said I was gluttonous for pain, that I needed it. An' a part o' me wonders if she's not wrong. I mean, look at me; look at us. What are we bloody doin', Buffy? Love shouldn't hurt so much."

Swallowing hard, her chest heaving as it tried in vain to keep up with her racing heart, she slipped her hand over his arm and tugged on it until he finally looked at her.

"I don't want to hurt you, Spike. If being around me is-" Suddenly, her voice just wouldn't work anymore, wouldn't allow her to finish the sentence ping-ponging around in her brain. She shook her head, maybe to loosen her tongue or maybe to shake away the thought all together. "I meant what I said, Spike. I'm not giving up on this, not unless you tell me you don't want me anymore. I know I can't make up for all of the stuff I did or said. No apology will ever fix it, but I'm going to try and be better. I want to be better. For you."

"Buffy..." His voice was so soft that she barely heard him say her name. Soulful blue eyes gazed down at her, awe shining brightly from their fathomless depths. "I'll always want you, luv. The way I feel about you isn't goin' away any time soon, I can promise you that."

An almost-timid smile slid over her lips and she reached up, resting her fingers at the base of his neck where the corded muscles met with his shoulder. His skin was hot and the vein just beneath it was pulsing with quick rushing blood. She heard his breath catch in his lungs as her fingers began to rub at his flesh.

"I want to love you, Spike," she said, her tone low and smoky.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head falling back slightly, and he made a sound deep in his throat that was a cross between a sigh and a moan. "If you're tryin' t' kill me, you're doin' a bloody fine job o' it," he finally replied several moments later.

"No, no killing intended." She drew in a large breath of air before continuing. "I just...just need you to know that I'm serious here, that I really do want to make this work. I'm tired of being so closed off and scared all of the time. And I...I trust you...with my heart."

His eyebrows furrowed together over his rapidly narrowing eyes and his jaw tensed up as he clenched his teeth. "Do you really mean that, Buffy? 'Cause, honestly, luv? I don't know that I could take it if you change your mind. If you don't really mean it, then-"

"I mean it. I want this."

The lights were dim as he made his way down the corridor that led to the main stage.  Frank was in front of him with a flashlight, keys jingling against his hip and a dull buzz coming from the walkie-talkie attached to his belt.  Spike could hear the rumble of the crowd growing louder and louder as they moved towards the area behind the stage; it seeped in through his skin, into his veins and soon his heart was pumping in time to the steady roar of several thousand fans.

His band mates had already begun with an instrumental version of Shudder To Think, a slow, depressing song that was bogged down with Spike’s own self-pity.  God, he really needed to get some new stuff.

Someone handed him a microphone and he took a deep, deep breath.  The soles of his boots hit the steel staircase with a tinging clank as he made his way up to the stage.  As he moved onto the platform, he brought the microphone to his lips.

“Your body sways in the moonlight,” he sang in a deep tenor.

The crowd erupted in a screaming mass, cheering, and the lights suddenly went up, making the crowd’s vast voice deafening.  Spike strode across the stage and stopped in front of the mic stand.  He worked the microphone into the clip and leaned in.

“Graceful pale and darkened veil.

Sweet melody, you move me.

Even though you’ve damned me to hell.”

Oliver began to pick out quick notes on his guitar; a precursor to the rousing solo he had coming up.  The steady beat of Oz’s bass was subtle, binding the guitar with Xander’s drumming and creating one cohesive sound that flowed outward and over the audience.

Spike tipped his head back and wailed into the mic, “I shudder to think that you might see,

that this love for you is real.

I shudder to think that you might know,

that I’m dyin’ here down below.

I shudder to think that you might ever love this man beggin’ at your feet,

because I have no hope left,

and no prayers to speak.”

The words didn’t have much meaning for him any longer, but they still left a bitter taste on his tongue.  It was hard to believe that he’d once felt that way, so miserable but so eager to be loved.  He was willing to sell his soul to Drusilla for just one ounce of her love and affection.  What a bloody waste.

He relished in the feeling overtaking his mind, body and soul; a sort of erratic calm that both lifted him up and kept him in a warm cocoon of peace.  That was what it was all about.  Being on stage, getting that high that couldn’t be found anywhere else, in any bottle, in any pill - it was heaven under flashing lights.  The chanting fans were his choir of angels; they sang the sweetest hymns of appreciation and adoration.  Here, he was loved.  Here, he was home.

“Baby, you leave me broken, battered,

tooorrrrrnnnn!”

He howled into the mic and dropped to his knees on the hard surface of the stage.  With his free fist, he pounded the floor in time to the heavy bass kick from Xander’s drums.  Sweat poured down his forehead, masking the tears that fell from his eyes.  The words, the song was clawing to get out of him.  It burned in his chest and left an acid trail up his throat.

“I bleed ruby tears,

sewn into the snow.

And I count my crosses,

row by row.”

As the first notes of the chorus came out of his mouth, the crowd chimed in with their collective voice.  It hit him like a tidal wave, word after word washing over him in warm, salty swells.  They sang in perfect unison, in perfect time and tempo, in perfect pitch; an echo of his own voice.  He threw his fist out, holding the microphone towards the audience and if it was possible, they became louder by the gesture, screaming the words up to him.

He stood up, tall and unyielding, his arms outstretched like he was bound to the cross.  His eyes closed as Oliver’s solo began.  The flat, oddly-placed sounds assailed his ears.  They lent to the tragedy of his lyrics, an unfortunate array of nerve-shrieking notes that sent chills through him.  It was the closest thing to the pain he had felt as he wrote the song. 

Bringing the mic back to his lips, he dropped his head.  “Saccharine divine,”

burn me in your fire.

I live and die by your hand,

wrapped in the coolness of your desire.

Shuddering.

Shuddering.

Rapture in the death of your love.”

He was deaf to the final refrain and even though his mouth moved no words came out.  His hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans and as his fingertips felt the cold metal ring locked inside he winced.  Pulling it out, he studied the platinum band, the diamonds glittering under the bright stage lights.  It was the shackle of his marriage to Dru; a bloody shining piece of shit.  How many times had he looked down at it and prayed to its defective power to make her love him? 

His eyes burned.  His jaw clenched tightly.  He squeezed the ring in his hand and took a deep breath.  Drawing his arm back, he chucked the symbol of his love and devotion to a woman that would have none of it.  It soared in the air, over the heads of hundreds, their eyes wide as they realized what it was.  As it dropped, every person within a twenty foot radius scrambled to catch it.

And Spike turned his back to the crowd, fist in the air, as the lights faded.

 

*** *** ***

 

In the days that followed, Spike felt as if a two ton boulder had been lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe, to see with perfect clarity all of the things that he had been blind to.  He used to say that he wasn’t more alive than when he was Dru, but the truth was he had been a walking corpse, animated only by her fickle whims.  Everything he did, said and thought revolved around that woman.  He had called it love then; now, he knew it was fear.

After all, who was he if not her willing slave, her puppet on silk strings?   Everything about him was a product of her making.  He wore black for her, adopted a devil-may-care attitude for her, sang for her, bled for her…  Hell, she’d even plucked his bloody name from the stars and bestowed it upon him like a royal title.

Something had clicked for him in Albuquerque.  It had started the moment he’d heard Drusilla’s voice on the other end of the phone.  The spell she had cast on him twelve years ago began to dissipate, revealing reality in ribbons of vivid color.  Everything was bright and clear and real for the first time in over a decade.  He saw her for who she really was, what she really was- just some loony bint that had tore a path through his life, leaving him cut and bleeding while she laughed in his face.

He saw Drusilla, and he saw himself.   But in place of the person he used to know, a stranger had taken up residence, unfamiliar in every way save one. 

In a world unrecognizable to him, he knew her.  Buffy Summers, with her green eyes that looked upon him as if they’d known each other since the beginning of time and before, was his truth.  Bloody girl might not know shit about herself or what she wanted, but there wasn’t anything ambiguous in the way she saw him.  She’d always known the man underneath the façade, that macabre mask he’d worn for Dru, and it was that unshakable faith that was pulling him back from Purgatory’s gray haze.

“So, are we gonna talk about what happened in Albuquerque or should I just go on pretending I didn’t see you toss a rather expensive piece of jewelery into a mass of screaming fans?”

Spike glanced up from his notebook.  Oliver had slid in to the booth across from him, a somber expression on his face that suggested his intentions were sincere rather than meant to poke fun.

“Not much t’ talk about.”

Oliver shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back.  “I went with you to pick out that gaudy bauble and I know how much you bloody paid for it.  A man doesn’t just chuck a thirty thousand dollar ring into an audience and not have anything to say ‘bout it.”

“Balls,” Spike muttered.  He sighed heavily as he swept a hand through his gel-free hair.  “You’re not goin’ t’ drop this until we’ve had it out, are you?”

His friend smirked.  “Just as I thought.  You must really not want to tell her.”

“What are you on about?  Tell who?”

“Buffy.” 

Not much got past Oliver Alden, King of Physically Unable to Mind His Own Sodding Business, and damn it if Spike wasn’t perturbed at that.  Could a man not have anything for himself?  A thought, perhaps, without someone trying to dig into his head and pull out all the visceral strands of unprocessed contemplation?  And the fact that Oliver was practically blackmailing him into this conversation didn’t exactly help either.

Spike tossed his pen down onto the table, folded his hands and slapped them on the table.  “Fine.”

“Oh, little prince, don’t pout.  You’ll feel better once you talk it out to Uncle Ollie.”

“You’re a creepy bloke; have I ever told you that?” Spike said, brows furrowed over the slow burn of blue embers.

Oliver shrugged nonchalantly.  “Wouldn’t be the first time if you had.  That’s been my key descriptor for years.”

“Perhaps that’s something you should work on then.”

His friend didn’t say anything to that, just shrugged again.  That was par for the course, though.  Oliver wanted to talk about everyone else, but never about himself save those few details he’d shared over the years.  He would constantly dig into the psyches of the people around him, rummaging through the bits and pieces until he found something truly interesting.  The minute anyone got too close to his own thoughts, though, Oliver would shut down completely.

It pissed Spike off to no end.  Their whole friendship was one-sided and he was sick of being Oliver’s pin cushion.  Years and years of the poking and prodding had left Spike quite sore.

Yet, when it came down to it, Spike couldn’t force himself to confront Oliver.  He’d never been able to.  It was this unseen force that closed his throat and made his stomach churn every single time he tried to point out their obvious dysfunction.  Maybe Oliver wasn’t the only one afraid of letting his demons see light.

They sat in silence for several minutes before Oliver cleared his throat and said, “She’ll understand if you explain it to her.”

“Right,” Spike snorted.  “How the hell can she understand if even I don’t?  She’ll call me foolish, at the very least.”

“Because of the money?”

Spike nodded slowly as his eyes focused on the blurred scenery outside the window.  Of course Buffy would say it had been a bonehead move to throw that damned ring and she would be right.  He’d been so used to having money that objects didn’t have much meaning anymore.  Just like the house, that he’d wanted to hand over to Dru just to get her off his back.  But Buffy still knew the value of things.  She would have told him to auction it off for charity or some sodding do-good cause instead of throwing it away like the piece of garbage it was.

If he had it to do all over again, though?  He’d have done the same bloody thing.  The flood of release that rushed through his veins as he watched it leave his hand and soar foot by foot away from him- that wasn’t something he could have gotten from selling it and he’d needed that feeling.  Their split hadn’t been real until that very moment and it had ended on his terms.  Finally, he’d got a word in by tossing a physical representation of their marriage into the darkness, away from the lights and flash, away from him.

“’M not sorry,” Spike finally mumbled. 

Oliver studied him for a moment.  “No, I suppose you’re not.  But you have to talk to Buffy, guilt or naught.  She’ll hear about it eventually and then you’ll be the prat that kept it from her.”

“Not so much concerned with her reaction of me throwin’ it as I am the fact that I still had the bloody thing after all this time.  Don’t rightly know how I am gonna explain that.”

“Well, why did you have it?”

He thought about it briefly before shaking his head.  There wasn’t a clear answer to that question that he could find.  At first, it was because he had been convinced that Dru would come back to him like she had every other time.  Weeks went by and at some point he realized that wouldn’t happen, yet he still kept it.  He’d stopped wearing it sometime around week five, but it was always on him, in a pocket or dangled from a chain around his neck.  He’d had it for so long, worn it for a dozen years and he’d felt naked without it.

That was just an excuse.  Maybe that ring was the only way he could hold on to the persona he wore, a costume with all the bells and whistles that made him Spike Pratt, badass lead singer of a multi-platinum rock band.  He didn’t have Dru anymore, but he had that costume as long as he kept the ring with him.

It was ludicrous really.  As if a ring could have the magical ability to glamour him into someone he wasn’t.  But the truly ludicrous part was that he didn’t need the sodding ring or Drusilla Rayne to be that person, he already was that person.  And not just the shell of it, but solid through and through.  It took a fearless leap for him to realize it, cutting himself off from everything he thought he knew in order to finally to see the truth.

Spike growled.  “When did things get so fuckin’ complicated?”

“For you?”  Oliver tilted his head then favored Spike with a sympathetic smile.  “The moment you realized that little boys and girls were completely different creatures.  Been fascinated with them ever since, I suspect.”

 

*** *** ***

 

Texas was a huge state.  Seeing it on a map was one thing, but driving across it in a bus was an entirely different experience.  They had crossed the New Mexico/Texas border almost five hours ago and Austin was still another five hours to go. 

Buffy wasn’t sure she could stand being cooped up for that long, not that she really had a choice in the matter, unless she told them to pull the bus over and she finished the trip to Austin on foot.  Perhaps she wouldn’t be going stir crazy if the rest of the passengers weren’t so damned quiet. 

Not one of them had said more than two words since leaving Albuquerque and she was beginning to think there was something going on that they weren’t telling her.  She’d fished, of course.  Anya, who could never keep her mouth shut, ignored her by faking a phone call.  Xander just stared at the television, laughing inappropriately as he watched a rerun of The Powerpuff Girls.  Oliver had just given her a knowing look and Oz…well, she hadn’t even bothered with him since he said so little to her anyway.

That only left one person and she was absolutely dreading it.

Spike.

Buffy glanced up from her book, looked around the small living space and resigned herself to the task at hand.  She didn’t miss the exchange of looks between them all as she stood up and made her way towards the room at the very rear of the bus.  If they thought that would dissuade her from seeking Spike out, they were mistaken.  If anything it only strengthened her resolve.

Her heart began to pound violently as she neared the door and after a passing moment of hesitancy, she lifted her fist and knocked.  There was a muffled reply that she could only assume was Spike granting her entrance.  She slid open the pocket door, revealing Spike sitting cross-legged on the bed with his notebook, guitar and an iPod with some fancy-looking earbuds attached.

“Hey, luv,” he said softly. 

She shut the door behind her and moved to sit on the very edge of the mattress.  “Hey.  What’cha doing?"

“Just tryin’ to get some ideas on paper before I forget them.”

“Oh.”

Spike stared at her, a slight smile playing at the corner of his sensuously-full lips.  “What’s on your mind, pet?”

“Is there something going on that I don’t know about?  I mean, everyone is acting kind of strange and I…  I am just imagining things or what?”

His mouth dropped open a little as if he were trying to say something but no sound was coming out.  Then he laughed, not jovial by any means, but this self-depreciating cackle that made the hair on her arms stand straight up.

“Shoulda bloody known you’d catch on,” he murmured, his eyes downcast.

She frowned.  “Spike?  What are you talking about?”

His gaze flicked back up, an ocean of Pacific blue cascading at her in a powerful wave, and his expression was full of reverence.  “Happened back in Albuquerque.  That show, you know the one.  Didn’t know how I was going to tell you or even if I should.  Not much point to it, I figured, since it really had no bearing on…us.  But Ollie was right.  You’d have found out either way and I’ve been on the wrong side o’ your temper too many times to risk puttin’ myself in the storm’s path again.”

He was babbling, she realized.  Sure, he’d been known to go off on tangents occasionally, but this felt different.  There was a sort of calm nervousness about him, which was a complete oxymoron and yet that was the only way to describe it.  His mouth was running a mile a minute, but his body, his face were deadly still, stuck in a relaxed daze as if it had been drugged.

“It must have been that call that changed things.  Hearin’ her voice again and suddenly everythin’ made perfect bloody sense…”

Buffy heard his words and felt her heart start to crumble.  What was he saying? Had talking to Dru again changed his feelings about her?  She thought back to that conversation, but nothing stood out that would indicate he wanted to be with his soon-to-be ex-wife.  Not that it had to since he could have decided he wanted to reconcile with Dru much later.

Jesus, it was no wonder no one wanted to answer her questions.  No one wanted to be the bearer of bad news and tell her that Spike was running back to Dru.

“So I tossed it out into the audience and baby, it felt…  I’m free now!  Finally free,” he announced, a huge grin on his face.

Wait- huh?  She’d missed something while she was busy damning their relationship in her head.

“You tossed something into the audience?” she asked dumbly.

His smile fell and he blinked at her.  “You weren’t listening, were you?”

“Uh, yeah, I was…er…kind of.  I missed that last part is all.  I’m sorry, Spike, what did you throw into the audience?”

“My…”  He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.  “Lot harder t’ say the second time around.  It was my wedding ring.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide.   She had not been expecting that at all.  “Oh.”

“Oh?  That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I- What do you want me to say?  I mean, two minutes ago I thought you were telling me that you decided to get back together with Dru and-“

Spike let out a bark of laughter so loud that it made her jump.  She watched him for a few seconds, rolling in his own private joke and then she got mad.  Her arms crossed over her chest and she sent him an angry glare.

“It’s not funny, Spike!  I thought you were breaking up with me.”

That only made him laugh harder.

“You’re an asshole,” she snarled as she got up to leave, but she didn’t get very far because his arm curled around her waist and then she was falling backwards onto the bed.

She fought to get loose, her arms flailing, legs kicking out, but he held on tightly.  Before she knew what was happening, she was flat on her back and Spike was straddling her hips as he secured her wrists with on hand.

“You are a stupid bint,” he told her.

“I am not!  I’m not stupid and if I knew what a ‘bint’ was, I’m pretty sure I could say that I wasn’t one either.”

Spike shook his head.  “You must be stupid if you think I would break up with you and crazy if you think I’d ever willingly go back to Dru.”

“Yeah?  Well, I know that now!” she shouted lamely.

He watched her, suspicion clouding his eyes.  “Do you?  Gotta say jumpin’ to that conclusion in the first place makes me wonder.”

“Hey,” she replied.  “I’m not the one who was married for twelve years and completely devoted to a lunatic.  It isn’t outside the realm of possibility that you might-“

“The soddin’ hell it isn’t!  Buffy, I thought we were over this nonsense about me wantin’ other women.”  His anger melted and was replaced with a non-expression.  “Bugger.  We weren’t supposed t’ fight about this.  Never expected that you’d think I was breakin’ things off with you.”

“Oh, so now it’s all my fault, right?  Because we’re fighting?”  Buffy started to struggle again, bucking her hips up to throw him off of her.  He wasn’t going to blame this on her!

“Buffy.  Stop.”  His voice was soft, strained and when she looked up at him she figured out why.  His eyes were rolled up and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth.  He was turned on.  Whoa.

All at once, she went still, except for the heavy movement of her chest as she breathed in and out.  It took him a while to calm himself, but once he did, he slid off of her and sat up.  He grabbed her wrists and helped her upward as well.

“What I meant was that I hadn’t expected that reaction an’ I’m kinda at a loss for what t’ say,” he clarified.

“Well, what reaction were you expecting?”

He shrugged.  “Dunno.  I s’pose I thought you’d be mad because I’d kept it for so bloody long.”

Oh.  She rolled that idea around in her head.  There wasn’t any anger, though, mostly just curiosity and maybe a bit of sadness for him.  He had been carrying that ring around for years and years and years, but it hadn’t meant happiness for him or fidelity or a reminder of mutual devotion.  If anything, it had only served to keep him painfully aware that his marriage was much less than perfect.

“The last time I saw my dad, he gave me a stuffed pig named Mr. Gordo.  I knew that I would probably never see him again.  That was one of the saddest days in my life, watching my dad walk away from us, but I still kept that damned pig.  So, what I am trying to say, Spike, is that I understand why you kept the ring.”

“So, you’re not mad then?”

She shook her head.  “Nope.  Not even a little bit.”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll make the person who got it very happy, though I hope they sell the soddin’ thing.  Probably do more good that way,” Spike remarked.

“How much was it worth?  A couple thousand?  It was pretty fancy.”

His eyes darted towards the ceiling.  “Uh, yeah.  Couple thousand.”

“Spike?”

“Really wasn’t worth much at all now that I think about it.”

“Spike.”

“Fifteen hundred tops.”

“Spike!”