“Eww…he’s like almost our age, Cordy!” Buffy Summers exclaimed; her button nose wrinkling in distaste. “It’s got to be super strange to have some college guy living in the house and doing it with your mom.”

“Well, at least he’s hot. Like really yummy, but in a totally misfit way. So, my situation could be worse, he could be all trollish and perverted.” Cordelia Chase replied with a devious smile. “But…the ick factor is way up there since he is sleeping with my mother. I mean, why does some hottie need to shack up with a middle aged actress anyway? Is it that hard to find someone his own age in L.A.?” Leaning her head to the side, she adjusted the phone so that her hands were free to finish putting on her earrings; yet another ridiculously expensive failed attempt for her affection by her father. After that, she puckered her lips to apply another coat of cherry lip gloss, before continuing. “Anyway, I totally have to bail; time to go play the role of the prodigal daughter. I hate that my mom thinks that every time she brings home some new guy we all need to go out like one big happy family. It’s weird and a huge waste of time, ya know? So, are you still planning on coming over in the morning?”

“Like there’s anything else to do in this boring ass town?” Buffy Summers replied jokingly. “Yeah, Mom wants me to go to the gallery for something around ten-ish, so it’ll be sometime after that, ok? Have fun tonight!” Snickering at her best friends exasperated comments on the other end of the phone, Buffy promised to be at her house before lunch and hung up.

Bored and alone, Buffy headed downstairs to the kitchen to search for something to eat. After digging around in the cabinets for a couple of minutes and not coming up with anything, Buffy reached into the cookie jar. Pulling out a wad of bills, Buffy set aside enough for a pizza and put the remainder back into the ceramic Mickey Mouse container. Five minutes later, she had her favorite extra cheese pizza on its way and was waiting patiently on the couch for its arrival.

While she waited, Buffy absentmindedly flipped through the television channels until she found a reality show worth watching. It was night’s like this that Buffy hated the most; being the first part of the summer, all of her friends other than Cordelia were out of town on vacation and since her best friend was busy with family, Buffy was left alone. Being the only daughter of a working single mother left Buffy fending for herself on most nights unless Cordelia was available.

With her honey blonde locks and petite frame, Buffy’s looks were the total opposite of Cordelia’s, who’s long, luxurious brunette hair and curvaceous body left hoards of hormonal teenage boys drooling in her wake. Their differences didn’t end there, Cordelia was known for her snobbish, brash attitude which was quite a contrast to Buffy’s upbeat and pleasant demeanor. Yet, the two had been the best of friends since cheerleading tryouts in the sixth grade.

Cordelia’s mother, Evangeline Chase, who was widely known for her award winning role on the daytime soap ‘Passions’, had uprooted her only daughter at the tender age of eleven to move her to a more stable environment after a nasty divorce from Cordelia’s father, Richard Chase, who owned one of the most prestigious jewelry stores in Beverly Hills. Needless to say, Buffy had been slack jawed with awe when she had entered the Chase estate for the first time; having never been in a house that had more than four bedrooms, completely amazed that a house with only two people living in it had seven bedrooms and nine bathrooms. Not to mention the movie viewing room, recreational room, state of the art kitchen, fitness center, Jacuzzi and an Olympic sized pool. The mere fact that Cordelia generally preferred to spend the night at Buffy’s house instead of her own totally dumbfounded Buffy. Whenever Buffy asked Cordelia why she liked the relatively small house on Revello Dr instead of her own house, her sarcastic response was usually that she enjoyed being in a house that didn’t require an intercom system to find another living being.

The shrill sound of the doorbell pulled Buffy from her daze and she crawled off the couch, pausing for a moment to stretch her aching muscles from cheerleading practice that morning before crossing the living room and answering the door. On the other side, she smiled brightly at the handsome young man that was nervously shuffling from one foot to the other clutching the pizza box with both hands.

“Hey Xander!” She exclaimed brightly as she motioned for him to step inside. Xander Harris had grown up down the street from Buffy and while they had been close friends in elementary school, Buffy’s launch into the popular clique in junior high had led to a fizzle in their relationship. “I totally forgot that you worked at the Pizza Palace. When did you start making deliveries?”

“Hey Buff, um…Mr. Garibaldi decided to have pity on me and let me do deliveries a couple of nights a week. Said it would help me get out and meet women; like I don’t see the same ones every day at school, right?” He paused long enough to hand her the pizza and take the money she offered. “So, whatcha doing home by yourself? Queen ‘C’ too busy to grace you with her presence?

“She’s doing the family dinner thing and Cordy really isn’t as bad as you think she is, Xan. She’s an acquired taste, takes a bit to get to know her.” Buffy walked into the living room and put the box on the coffee table. “Um…are you in a hurry? There’s a whole lotta pizza here for just little old me.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m closing tonight and really need to get back to the store. Another time, maybe?” Xander replied hopefully. As much as the shaggy haired brunette hated to admit, he missed spending time with Buffy and his long time crush on her was still unrequited.

“Yeah, Xan…another time.” Buffy said with a sad sigh, she had really hoped that her oldest friend would have taken pity on her lonesome state and decided to spend some time with her. There had been many times over the past couple of years where she had picked up the phone to call him, but had chickened out at the last minute; afraid that he would reject her offers due to hard feelings he may have been harboring. “I’ll see you around, ok?”

“Goodnight, Buffy. Tell your mom I said hey.” His last words thrown back over his shoulder, Xander disappeared out the front door and down the walkway; oblivious to the wistful look on Buffy’s face as she shut the door behind him.


The next morning, Buffy was awakened by her mother who had come home later than usual, long after her daughter had given up on seeing her and went to bed. “I’ll be ready in a minute, Mom!” She hollered through the closed door, grabbing the clothes she had the foresight to lay out before going to sleep and disappearing into the sage green and white tiled bathroom.

A half hour later, Buffy and her mother were on the way downtown to the gallery; a toasted waffle clutched in Buffy’s hand and a cup of coffee in Joyce’s. Winding through the nearly empty streets of Sunnydale, Joyce started in on her typical small talk in an attempt to be closer to her often moody seventeen year old daughter. “What did you end up doing last night, Buffy? I was surprised that Cordelia wasn’t there when I got home.”

“I told you she had to do the family dinner thing. Her mom has a new man…er, boy and she wanted to show off him to Cordy.” Buffy replied with a huff, her mom was always forgetting the things that she told her.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Things have been so busy with our latest shipment and getting ready for the upcoming show that it just slipped my mind. So, Evangeline has taken up with another young man?”

“Yeah, real young…like twenty four or something like that. Cordy says he’s really nice and smart, not to mention a total babe. It’s not like her mom to date someone with brains, so it should be interesting meeting him this afternoon.”

“I really don’t like the idea of you spending so much time in that house with her lovers prancing around everywhere, Buffy.”

“What? You want me to spend all of my time cooped up in our house totally alone. So don’t think so, Mom. It’s not like any of Evie’s men would be interested in me anyway. Who would want ‘No Boobs Buffy’ when they could have a totally stacked hottie?”

“Buffy, you are a beautiful young woman so there is no need for negative comments like that. So you haven’t filled out all the way, yet. At your age I was underdeveloped, too.” Joyce smiled reassuringly at her pouting daughter before slowing the black Jeep Cherokee down in order to pull into the gallery’s parking lot. “Now, what I have in mind for this morning will only take an hour or so and I thought it would be a nice way to spend some time with my favorite daughter.”

“Mom, I’m your only daughter.” Buffy replied with a laugh as she hoped out of the vehicle. “But, your flattery is appreciated any time. Do you think you can run me over to Cordy’s around lunch?”

“That should be fine, dear.” Wrapping her arm around Buffy’s shoulder and walking to the gallery. She missed being able to spend time with her daughter, and hated using work at her store as an excuse to rope Buffy into joining her. Ever since her husband, Hank, had ran off with his secretary nearly ten years ago Joyce had found it difficult to keep Buffy in the middle class lifestyle that she was accustomed to. Not once in all the years that he had been gone had Hank sent any child support or alimony checks their way, making paying bills and keeping an art gallery afloat a hard task to juggle at times.


Two hours later, Joyce announced that it was time for a break and decided to take Buffy out for lunch before heading across town to the Chase residence. After a naughty lunch of cheeseburgers, fries and extra thick chocolate milkshakes, Buffy was finally dropped off at Cordelia’s house. Bounding up the brick stairs, Buffy burst through the front door as she always did, never giving a thought to the fact she was entering someone else’s home. As soon as she crossed the threshold, Buffy came locked eyes with the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on.

Coming down the winding staircase was Evageline’s latest boy toy in all of his glory; shirtless with a pair of low slung black track pants and sneakers, he appeared to have just finished up from the gym. Although slender in size, he boasted a nicely shaped set of shoulders, a nicely defined muscular chest and rippled abs gave way to lean hips with just a smattering of light brown hair around his belly button that dipped below the elastic waistband of his pants. His hair was a shock of platinum blonde that was tousled on top into a riot of ringlets and his eyes were a bright, piercing blue that Buffy was sure could see right through her. Angular cheekbones and sensuous lips that were formed into a pleasing smile completed the package. Buffy’s mouth watered at the sight and her face blushed profusely when he came to rest just in front of her; obviously aware of her aroused state, judging from the tongue curled over the teeth leer he now wore.
“Hello cutie.”

“Oh…um…hey!?” Buffy stammered, thrown off by Spike’s ‘cutie’ comment. “Spike, right? I’m Buffy.” Sticking her hand out, Buffy shook his hand and tried to ignore the heat that flushed her entire body the moment their hands connected. Knowing that her face must be flaming red only caused Buffy’s skin to deepen in color. ‘Oh my Gods, he is way hotter than Cordy described!’

“Ah, yes…the much talked about, Buffy. ‘s very nice to finally meet you.” Bringing Buffy’s hand to his lips, Spike placed a feather light kiss to the soft skin and smiled brightly when he noticed her blush furiously.

“Oh, um…you too,” Buffy managed to eek out, her hand still firmly grasped in Spike’s. Thankfully, she was saved from further embarrassment when Cordelia burst through the back door.

“Buffy! It’s about time you got here!” Cordelia exclaimed as she darted across the room, grabbed Buffy’s other hand and started pulling her towards the back door; mindless of Spike’s presence in the foyer. “You will so never guess who just called to see what we were doing tonight.”

“Who?” Buffy asked distractedly, turning her head slightly to glance back to where Spike remained. Offering a timid smile in his direction, Buffy’s stomach erupted with butterflies when he returned her gesture with an added wink before heading towards the kitchen.

“Hello? Earth to Buffy…are you even listening to me?” Cordelia huffed, “I’m trying to tell you that we have got a double date with like the hottest guys in town and you’re all space cadet-Buffy.”

“Huh…what? I’m sorry, Cordy.” Flopping down on the chaise lounge next to Cordelia, Buffy asked, “Dates? Who…us?”

“Duh, that’s what I was trying to tell you. Anyway, now that I have your attention, Doyle called and wanted to take me to his fraternity party tonight. Well, of course I said no since we had plans; but, then he said that one of his friends thought you were totally hot and you will never guess who you are going out with tonight. Angel O’Connor , that’s who!! Remember that luscious looking babe that was with Doyle at the mall last week?” At this point in the conversation, Cordelia was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. “Anyway, they’ll be here at seven to pick us up.”

“A party…a college party? Cordy, I am not even remotely prepared for that! I thought we were going to the movies, so I only packed jeans and stuff!”

“No worries, I’m sure there is something for you to wear in my closet.” Cordelia informed her; pleased as punch that she finally had complete control over what her best friend wore that night. Although she loved Buffy with all of her heart, her friend’s lack of a sense of fashion often bugged Cordelia. While the curvaceous brunette loved to adorn her body in the latest couture of the fashion world; the petite blonde preferred to wear blue jeans and tank tops or T-shirts any chance she got.

“Yeah, that’ll work; because your clothes will look superb on my scrawny ass.” Buffy retorted wryly as she peeled off her jean shorts and t-shirt to reveal a fire engine red string bikini. “Well, at the very least I can show up with a glowing tan, right?!”


Upstairs in the master bedroom, William “Spike” Sullivan was perched on the bench by the window; which he had propped open while he smoked. Down below he could almost make out the sunbathing beauties below; although his attentions were only focused on Buffy’s delectable body that was barely covered by a miniscule red bathing suit. Inhaling deeply, he coughed loudly when a woman’s voice startled him. Turning his head, Spike was surprised to find Evangeline standing behind him with an amused expression on her face.

“Ahha…you’ve met Buffy. No wonder you paid no attention to me when I came into the room.” Evangeline said with an amused expression on her face as she removed her earrings. “Sweet girl, but really quiet; total opposite of Cordelia, it’s amazing that they ever became friends.

I see that you have taken a liking to her, like every other male that meets Buffy. Poor dear really has no idea how beautiful she is.” The striking brunette laughed at Spike’s expression and disappeared into the bathroom. “Why so shocked, William? It’s human nature to appreciate beauty, especially someone that’s young and vibrant. Why do you think I’m with you, dear? Oh, don’t forget we have dinner reservations at eight.”

Frozen in place, Spike was astonished at Evangeline’s honest outlook on life. While he was quite aware that their relationship wasn’t the type that would be heading to the wedding chapel, Spike was still surprised to find out that she didn’t get upset that he was ogling her daughter’s friend. Hell, wouldn’t most women get angry if their significant other was checking out someone else? We’re they “significant”, relationship-wise? And, being brutally honest with himself…did he even care if they weren’t? Shaking his head in confusion, Spike snuffed out his cigarette in an ashtray and followed her into the bathroom to take a shower.


At seven o’clock sharp Spike just happened to be walking past the front door when the doorbell chimed loudly. Opening the door, he was surprised to find two college aged guys on the other side of the threshold. ‘Bleeding wankers aren’t worthy to lick the shoes their dates will be wearing’ , Spike thought to himself; his facial expression fully explaining to Buffy and Cordelia’s dates what he thought of them. Spike briefly considered telling them to take a hike and slamming the door in their faces, but his plan was thwarted when he heard the girls coming down the stairs.

“Are you going to let them in, Spike, or just stand there and stare at them all night?” Cordelia asked, coming to a rest at the platinum blonde’s side. “Excuse him; we don’t let him out much.” Pushing Spike out of the way and ignoring his annoyed look, she held the door open and motioned for their dates to come inside. “Buffy’s just finishing up getting dressed; she’ll be down in just a minute…er, or it looks like she’ll be down now.”

Buffy felt awkward as hell as she descended the stairs; mainly because everyone below was staring at her, but also because she had allowed Cordelia to talk her into wearing an overly expensive and very revealing dress. With thin spaghetti straps and short hemline, the body hugging sheath dress was most definitely the most daring outfit that she had ever worn. After adding a pair of black heels with rhinestones adoring the straps that went over her freshly pink painted toenails, some sparkling teardrop earrings and pulled her blonde locks into a French twist, Cordelia had proclaimed her a work of art; to Buffy, she just felt overdone and self-conscious.

“Buffy, you remember Angel, right?” Cordelia asked, pushing the hulking brunette towards her. Buffy nodded shyly as Cordelia ushered them all out of the house, “Spike, tell my mom not to wait up; like she ever would anyway.”

“Right, have fun then.” Spike replied sourly, adding to Buffy before she passed him, “Be careful, pet. Never know what those fraternity blokes are planning, yeah.”

“Um…yeah, ok. I’m sure we’ll be just fine, goodnight.” Buffy clumsily teetered towards the car, having a great deal of difficulty trying to walk in heels on the cobblestone driveway. Finally at the black Land Rover, Buffy graciously accepted Angel’s assistance in climbing into the backseat. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. By the way, you look stunning tonight, Buff.” Angel stated rather shyly as he got into the car after her. Buffy quietly mumbled her gratitude to her date before turning to stare back at the house as they started to drive off and smiled when she saw Spike’s silhouette in the doorway; the lights of the house shining around him. For the second time that day, the butterflies in her stomach went crazy.

Buffy’s stomach was grumbling loudly as she curled into the fetal position in Cordelia’s massive bed. In fact, she was almost afraid that the rumbling noises were going to wake up her slumbering best friend at one point, but Cordy had only rolled over and continued to snore lightly. Tossing the covers off, Buffy sighed and quietly got out of bed; realizing that the grumblies would never stop unless she did something about it. Clearly, she should have forgone Cordy’s “date etiquette advice” and had more than a salad at dinner. Quickly, she tip toed out of the bedroom and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

In another part of the Chase residence, Spike blankly started at the flashing cursor on the computer screen; growling in aggravation at the small black line that was mocking him silently since he was sporting a serious case of writer’s block. Figuring he needed to take a break from writing his term paper, Spike pushed away from the desk and headed in the direction of the kitchen to scrounge around in the refrigerator.

Rounding the corner into the industrial sized kitchen, Spike came to a screeching halt when his line of vision landed on the very tantalizing view of Miss Summer’s backside. Leaning against the doorframe, he stood quietly and enjoyed the view; although his conscience was screaming that what he was doing was very wrong, that Buffy was merely a child. However, another part of his anatomy located southward from his brain was having other thoughts that included an extremely vivid visual of the lithe blonde sprawled across the kitchen table, writhing passionately beneath him as he did quite naughty things to her lady bits.

Lost in thought, Spike jumped when he heard the refrigerator door shut and Buffy shriek with surprise. Blinking rapidly, as if to clear his vision from his head, Spike moved further into the kitchen and stammered, “Sorry to frighten you, pet. Didn’t know anyone else was still awake.” Stepping over to the wooden island in the center of the dimly lit room, Spike desperately held back the urge to stare directly at Buffy’s heaving chest; nipples hard and pebbled from the coolness of the fridge, pressing into the soft pink material of the camisole she had worn to bed.

Instead, he gazed further down to the contents clutched in her tiny hands; his expression turning into one of disapproval. “You can’t possibly be hungry, kitten. Didn’t that Poofter feed you tonight?”

“Huh…um, well…there was a salad and I wasn’t all that hungry; not like I am now. Luckily, Evie always keeps my favorite here just in case.” Holding up her breakfast triumphantly, Buffy felt like an idiot when Spike chuckled at her. “What?”

“That,” He said with a combination of disgust and amusement as he pointed at the Mountain Dew and Ho-Ho’s clutched in her hands, “is not a proper snack, much less a bleeding meal, kitten.”

“Ew…’bleeding”? Why would I want something bloody to eat?” Buffy questioned, her lips turned down with revulsion. “And I’ve always eaten this for breakfast!”

“’s just an expression…nothing is going to be bloodied if you don’ want it to be, yeah? Now, put away the junk food and take a seat. I’ll make you something fitting.” Moving past the bewildered teen, Spike began pulling out cookware and gathering ingredients. “You eat eggs?”

“”Yep, I eat anything that doesn’t eat me first!” Buffy exclaimed brightly as she took a seat on a barstool. All of the sudden her face blushed furiously and she covered her mouth, “OHMIGOD! That totally sounded gross, didn’t it?”

“Not at all, pet.” Spike replied reassuringly, although failed miserably when he tried to smother a good natured chuckle. He barely had time to register the flying object before he was hit directly in the forehead with a package of snack cakes. “Oi! Wha’ was that for?”

“For being a meanie and making fun of me!” Buffy stuck out her tongue childishly before flashing a blindingly bright smile in Spike’s direction. “So, whatcha cooking and who made you head of the food police, anyway?”

“Not the head of anything, just firmly believe in eating healthy is all.” Deciding on making omelets, Spike set to work chopping onions and mushrooms for the filling as well as strawberries and cantaloupe to serve on the side.

“So, Spike…how’d you and Cordy’s mom meet by the way. All she would say was that you two worked together. Are you an actor or something?” Reaching over, Buffy snatched a strawberry and narrowly avoided being swatted by Spike’s hand.

“Or something, I guess. Not a poncy actor that’s for sure,” Spike paused in order to cock his scarred eyebrow at Buffy menacingly for trying to swipe another strawberry. “I’m a personal trainer, that’s how we met.”

“Well now the whole ‘healthy food’ thing makes sense. But poncy? What does that even mean? Talk normal, ok? Um…so how long have you been living in California? Ooh! And where are you from?”

“What’s with the bloody Spanish Inquisition? And, I’ll have you know that my choice in words is perfectly fine.”

“Dunno, just figured I need to get to know you and all since you’ll be living here. I’m over here like every day and it would be nice to know you, ya know?”

“I think.” Spike replied with a shrug. Turning his back to Buffy, he put the vegetables in the pan to sauté before turning back around. “Let’s see, I moved to LA around nineteen, so that would make it what? Like five years or so? Had the unfortunate experience of following my girlfriend at the time, Cecily, to the States.”

“Do you miss England? That is where you’re from, right?”

“Yeah, pet, lived in Stafford for most of my life. Don’t rightly miss it, really. Parents passed when I was in grade school, can’t say that I miss my Aunt Agatha terribly. Not the nicest bird I’ll have you know, but she was kind enough to take me in after my mum and da’s accident.” Adding the egg mixture to the pan, Spike stirred them briefly before turning the heat down to wait for them to finish cooking.

“Oh, um…sorry about your parents, I didn’t mean to poke around in the difficult stuff.”

“’s all right, pet. Here eat up before it gets cold.” Scooping the omelet onto Buffy’s awaiting plate; Spike added a bowl of cut up fruit before settling down to eat his own meal. “So, how is it?”

“Mmm…that’s like the best thing I have ever had in my mouth!” Buffy exclaimed with a heavenly look on her face. One look at Spike’s face and she was once again flush with embarrassment. “You have so got to stop smirking at me like everything I say is perverted!”

“What!? Can I help it that I find it incredibly arousing when a beautiful woman moans in pleasure at my cooking and then makes suggestive remarks?” Spike innocently asked as he took a bite of eggs.

“You are such a pig!”

“Oink, oink, baby!” Spike replied proudly, before tucking back into his eggs. The rest of the meal was filled with mindless banter about one another’s personal lives and when it ended, Spike felt happier than he had in months, years even if he was truly honest with himself. Once again, his conscience reminded him that he was flirting with danger and yet again, he chose to ignore it.

After placing the last plate into the dishwasher, Spike turned to find Buffy standing beside him; innocently holding out a glass they had forgotten. His mind turned to mush, his heart beat loudly and Spike found it difficult to do a simple task as taking a glass from her hand.

Buffy’s stomach was once again riddled with butterflies as she stood next to Spike and she was quite certain that he could hear her heart beating wildly in her chest. When he reached out to take the glass from her hand, their fingers touched and fire erupted on her skin. Her eyes darted upward and locked on his brilliant blue orbs, surprised to find them filled with desire. Her body trembled when he reached out and touched her face, tracing along the edge of her lips with his thumb. For a moment, Buffy was sure that he was going to kiss her and tried to push away the disappointment when he didn’t.

“You really are, you know.” He whispered, his eyes never straying from hers. When the luminous emerald depths clouded with confusion, Spike clarified, “Beautiful. You really are beautiful.”

Buffy’s mouth opened and shut like a guppy as she stood there, frozen and unsure of how she should respond. “I…” She started, only to be interrupted by a noise in the hallway. Spike’s hand dropped suddenly and he took a step back just as Cordelia padded into the kitchen; bleary-eyed and tousled from sleep.

“What are you guys doing?”

She was there…again. Lounging next to the pool with Cordelia in a miniscule cotton candy pink bikini; teasing him, taunting him, driving him mad with want. Tales of her being forever present in their home were clearly not exaggerated. From his perch in the master bedroom’s bay window, Spike groaned as Buffy awkwardly reached behind her back and untied the brightly colored strings to her bathing suit top; unknowingly granting him with a peek at the silhouette of one perfectly globed breast. Jamming his hand into his pocket, Spike dug out his lighter and quickly lit the awaiting cigarette dangling precariously between his lips. Spike inhaled deeply, savoring the feel of nicotine and smoke, and praying that his vice would be able to calm his nerves.

It had been three weeks, twenty one miserable days, since Cordelia had stumbled across him and Buffy in the kitchen; totally unaware that she had almost found them in one hell of a compromising position, oblivious to the fact that Spike had been on the verge of kissing her beautiful best friend. Spike knew what he was feeling was wrong, and sure as hell knew that giving in to his desires would cause serious damage to several people that he had grown to care about.

In attempts to assuage his own guilt, Spike laid partial blame on Evangeline for his developing feelings for Buffy, since his lover was never home as of late. In fact, as of today, Spike hadn’t seen her for nearly a week since she was ‘on location’ in Kauai. However, deep down, Spike knew that he was the only one to blame for his own thoughts; but it didn’t help when day after day he was faced with the object of his desire, scantily clad and prancing around the house.

So far, he had managed to steer clear of the teenage girls on most days; hiding out in either the bedroom or library under the pretense that he was trying to finish his paper, but now that the task was completed, Spike was going stir crazy. Pacing across the massive bedroom, he puffed away on his cigarette and barely gave a fleeting thought to the fact that Evangeline had asked him to stop smoking in their room. Pinching the filter, Spike crushed the cigarette out in an ashtray and peeked out the window again; making sure that the girls were still by the pool before heading downstairs to the kitchen for something to drink.



“Egad! It’s hot out here!” Buffy exclaimed as she refastened her bathing suit top and rolled over onto her back. “Was it this miserable out here yesterday?”

“No, it wasn’t. I’m pretty sure that we can now officially call this town, SunnyHELL, because of this heat wave. The Devil himself would be sweating out here.” Cordelia replied listlessly. “But, that’s the price we have to pay! Gotta have a nice tan for the party this weekend.”

“I’m beginning to think that pasty pale would be the way to go. I’m gonna go get a frosty beverage, you want anything?” Getting to her feet, Buffy wrapped a towel around her waist before heading towards the house.

“A really cold water would be awesome.” Cordelia ordered as she rolled off her float and into the water. “Ugh, it totally sucks when it’s just as hot in the pool as it is outside of it!”

Buffy’s laugh twinkled through the air as she made her way across the courtyard to the backdoor. Opening the back door, her skin erupted in chill bumps when the frigid indoor air spilled onto her heated flesh. Rubbing her hands over her arms rapidly, Buffy tried to warm up as she crossed the tiled floor, making her way to the refrigerator.

“Why is it tha’ I always seem to find you with your head in the ice box, pet?” Spike asked with a bemused expression on his face. “You can’t possibly eat that much.”

“Spike, you have so got to quit sneaking up on me like that! You almost made me drop our drinks.” Buffy awkwardly shuffled the bottles in her arms, as well as the bag of grapes and snack cakes she had pilfered. Laying the refreshments on the kitchen counter, she turned around to find herself face to face with Spike and tried to convince her mind that it was the residual effects of an overactive air conditioner and the cool air from the fridge that send chills down her body, and not the luscious man in front of her. “Um…see? You with the sneakiness! Bell…collar, look into it.”

The low growl of laughter coming from Spike sent her heart rate through the roof and the butterflies in her stomach a flight. His penetrating cerulean gaze sliced through Buffy, the lust evident in his stare making moisture pool between her legs. Never before had she experienced this type of desire; an ache for another person making all rational thought fly right out the window. Her breath hitched in her throat as his fingers grazed along her upper arm. Nervously, Buffy licked her lips and murmured, “Spike?”

“Buffy.” He whispered hoarsely, unable to tear his eyes away from the pink tongue that was wetting her lips. ‘What are you doing?’ his conscience screamed as his hand seemed to move on its own accord, coming to rest around Buffy’s tiny waist and pulling her closer to him; their bodies flush against one another. ‘Spike! Stop it now! You’re supposed to be avoiding Buffy, not making out with the chit, you bloody pillock!’

Buffy was trembling; there was no other way to describe the feelings coursing through her body. ‘OHMYGOD! Buffy Summers just what do you think you are doing, young lady?’ her mother’s voice screamed inside her head. ‘He’s your best friend’s mom’s something or another and this is so very much in the wrong!’ Buffy’s own voice of reason shouted; causing her stomach to twist and turn in knots of worry. ‘I am so going to Hell for this!’ She mentally told herself, giving in to the desires that were building deep inside her core. Raising her arms slowly, Buffy tentatively placed her hands flat against Spike’s bare chest.

Inches apart now, Spike’s mind swam with need as her breasts pushed against his chest with every breath. Looking down, he hardened with an intense craving when he spied the tiny buds of her nipples hardened with desire and straining behind the scant piece of material covering her breasts. There was another fleeting thought that what he was doing was wrong before he pushed it to the corner of his mind and lowered his head to capture her lips with his own. The kiss was slow, experimental at first; his tongue lightly traced along her bottom lip before delving further inside; eliciting a whimper of surprise from Buffy. She was on the tips of her toes, pressed against the cool marbled counter, hands clenching Spike’s shoulders as she pressed into him. The ache at the apex of her thighs was bordering on unbearable and she squeezed her legs together tightly in an attempt to make it desist; but her actions proved to be unsuccessful since tiny jolts of electricity seemed to flow from the sensitive flesh at the slightest movement.

Buffy groaned in satisfaction when one of Spike’s muscular thighs wedged between hers and rubbed against her center, as if he were reading her mind and knew what she needed at that moment. His hands fisted in her hair, pulling the blonde locks from the baby blue clip atop her head; Buffy barely noticed when it fell to the ground. She did, however, notice when Spike’s hands began to tug suggestively on the straps of her bathing suit top; loosening them enough that the material began to sag in the front and threatened to fall off. Pushing against Spike, she grasped at the strands and exclaimed, “What in the world! Oh God! What are we doing?”

Breathless, Spike could only stare at the beauty in front of him; hair mussed, face flushed with passion and lips swollen from his kisses. It was then that the shock in her eyes gained his attention and he suddenly felt about an inch tall. Stepping away from Buffy, Spike forced himself to the opposite side of the kitchen. “I…I’m sorry, pet. Don’t rightly know what came over me.”

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!” Buffy chanted as she straightened her clothes and hair. “I…you…I mean we…we can’t do that! You’re Evie’s boyfriend for the love of Pete! Ew! Oh God! I have to get out of here!” Gathering the items she had come in search of, Buffy quickly flew from the room; leaving a bewildered and remorseful Spike in her wake.

“About time!” Cordelia exclaimed, paddling closer to the edge of the pool when Buffy rushed out of the house. “I was about to send out the search party on those drinks.”

“Oh, sorry…I…uh…ran into Spike in the kitchen. We…uh…talked.” Buffy stammered, sitting down next to where Cordelia was perched. ’Yeah, talked. Like the kind that involves tongues and groping!’

“I can’t believe he actually came out of his cave. He’s been working on some paper like a madman! It’s probably a good thing that Mom is out of town for work, otherwise she’d be whining that he wasn't paying attention to her.”

‘Ew…Ew…Ew….she just had to mention her Mom! Now I feel super bad about making with the smoochies! Ugh…’ “So, um…what’s the story with Spike and your Mom? I mean, they like never spend any time together.” Buffy asked cautiously as she fiddled with the paper wrapping that was around her bottle of water.

“Well, between her summer schedule and his school stuff they don’t really have a whole lot of time to do anything. I guess the whole situation would be a whole lot weirder if Spike was actually around the house more, but since he’s still at UCLA and drives there three days a week for class, plus I think he’s still working with a few clients, so he’s rarely here most of the time. If he is, it’s usually spent cooped up in the study. He’s a tad bit on the strange side if you ask me.” Oblivious to her friend’s nervous fidgeting; Cordelia leaned back against the float and pushed away from the ledge.

“Um…so do you think they’re like in love or something?” ‘Oh, please don’t say yes and make me feel a gagillion times worse than I already do for tongue wrestling with Spike!

“In love? My mother, please. It’s just infatuation, as always, and I am pretty sure it won’t last. It never does.” Cordy took a sip of water and appeared to be deep in thought. “Of course, she did move him in here with us; which is odd, to say the least. So, who knows…maybe she does want to keep him around.”

The weight on her shoulders was not lifted; in fact, it seemed to get worse. Buffy fought back the urge to run to the bathroom and throw up; her stomach rolled as she thought about what they had done. ‘Yep, that’s right everyone, just call me Lolita. Bad, bad Buffy!

“What’s wrong, Buff? You look positively green.”

“I…um…don’t feel so good all of the sudden.” Buffy hastily replied as she gathered her things and quickly stuffed them into the duffle bad she had brought. “You wouldn’t be too mad if I went home, would you?” Slipping on her tank top and jean shorts, Buffy jammed her feet into a pair of pink flip flops and mentally thanked her mother for allowing her to drive today.

“Course not. Are you sure you can drive? I mean, you really do not look good.” Cordelia got out of the pool, wrapped a towel around her waist and followed Buffy into the house. “I can drive you if you want?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Just need to take a nap or something. I’ll call you later, ok?” Buffy scanned the area for any signs of Spike before scooting across the living room like dogs were yapping at her heels. “Bye!” She called to a bewildered Cordy before slamming the door behind her and sprinting down the sidewalk to where the car was parked.

Inside the residence, Cordelia had turned and was headed back to the back porch when Spike came into the living room. “Hey! Finish your paper, yet?”

“Just did, thankfully. Bugger really started giving me one hell of a difficult time.” Nonchalantly, Spike asked, “Where was Buffy off in such a hurry?”

“She’s not feeling too good, so she decided to go home. Strange, hit her all of the sudden. Hope it’s not contagious, I've got a pageant this weekend that I do not want to miss. Anyway, I’m going back outside. See ya.”

As Spike stared at her retreating form, he thought to himself, ‘I seriously doubt that what Buffy has is contagious.’ He waited until he heard the sound of the back door slamming shut before darting out the front door in hope of catching Buffy before she left. Spike was amazed when he found the black SUV still parked in the drive and found, upon closer inspection, that Buffy was slumped over with her head on the steering wheel. “Buffy?” He asked worriedly; knocking on the window furiously, worried that something was in fact wrong with her. When she sat up and turned to face him, Spike was filled with sadness when he saw that tears were streaming down her face.

“What do you want?” She whispered hoarsely when the window was rolled down. Reaching up, Buffy wiped furiously at the wetness on her cheeks and sniffled loudly as she tried to control her breathing. Her emotions were running wild, thoughts and fears searing through her body and soul, screaming about her indiscretion with Spike.

“Jus’ wanted to make sure you were all right, luv. Cordelia said you weren’ feelin’ to well.” He leaned in towards the open window, placing his arms on the threshold and was instantly assaulted with the smell of warm vanilla and sweet lilacs; a scent that was purely female and belonged only to Buffy. ‘My girl…’ The thought slipped through his mind before he made the mistake of whispering it softly; his eyes flying open with recognition.

“I am not your girl and don’t call me luv! How can you do this? How can we do this, Spike? We can’t. It’s wrong.” Buffy ranted; gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands until the skin on her knuckles were ghostly white. “You…you…we have to stop this…this…thing between us! I can’t do this to Evie!” Crying openly now, her tiny frame shook violently with each sob as she gasped for air. “You can’t ask me to do this to her…to them. They’re my family!”

Spike reached out and to comfort Buffy; brushing stray locks of blonde hair away from her flushed face and whispering soothing words, “ ‘m sorry, pet. Don’ rightly know what came over me earlier. Never meant to cause you any pain, please forgive me.”

“How can I forgive you if I can’t forgive myself?” Buffy replied softly, refusing to meet his gaze. Still sniffling, she put the car in gear and pulled away; willing herself not to look in the rearview mirror at the man she had left behind; the man that she had managed to develop feelings for, feelings that she herself was unable to decipher at the moment. All Buffy knew was that from that moment on she would never be the same.

Later that night, Buffy was lying on her bed, buried under a cocoon of covers when her mother came home. Really not wanting to deal with anyone, especially her mother, Buffy feigned sleep when Joyce opened the door to peek inside.

“I know you aren’t asleep, Buffy. Years of parenting have taught me that, especially when you use to try so hard to skip school.” Joyce announced as she flipped on the overhead light and sat on the edge of Buffy’s bed. “Want to tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Mom. Just don’t feel good. I think I got a bug…a really mean nasty bug with icky antennae and stuff.” Buffy moaned, rolling over on her side and looking weakly at her mother; hoping she wouldn’t question her sudden illness.

“Well, you don’t seem to have a fever.” Joyce said with her hand pressed against Buffy’s forehead. “Maybe you’re just upset? Did you and Cordelia have an argument?”

“No. We’re fine.”

“Am I going to have to literally pull this out of you?”

“Maybe.” Buffy mumbled from underneath the comforters. “I don’t wanna talk about it, ok?”

“Oh, sweetie…is it about a boy? That Angel you’ve been seeing?”

“Um…yeah, that’s it…he’s a big poophead.” She replied, figuring the lie would go over better than the truth. ‘Don’t think she’s ready to hear I’ve got the lusties for Spike. Cause that would go over so nicely. “Broke a date with me is all. So I’m all with the pouting and stuff for now. The next step is ice cream.”

“Well, it’s his loss.” Joyce sympathetically patted Buffy on the leg before adding, “And I just bought a pint of Rocky Road on the way home. I’m sure that will fix all of your troubles, right?”

“Can I have it for dinner?”

“No, of course not. You have to at least make it look like you ate something other than junk.” Joyce stood up and headed for the doorway. “Oh, Buffy…my buying trip for next month has been pushed up to this weekend. I checked with Evangeline to see if you could stay with them for a couple of days, but she and Cordy will be out of town. Something about a teen pageant in Los Angeles I think? Anyway, I have decided to let you stay home by yourself if you think you can be responsible and refrain from throwing a huge party.”

“No parties, I promise! Oh this is going to be so much fun! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Buffy cried, flinging the covers off the bed and jumping down to hug her mom. “Just think, nothing but pizza and chocolate for days! Of course, sucks that my best friend just has to be out of town the one time you let me be all grown-uppy.”

“Glad you’re excited, sweetie; but if she was in town, you would be staying at her house.” Joyce smiled at Buffy and turned to leave her bedroom. “Oh and I need help with the groceries.”

“Uh-huh, bribe me with ice cream and freedom before bringing on the chores. Slave driver.” Buffy stuck her tongue out at her mother and followed along her downstairs; all the while thinking to herself, ‘Four whole days without parental control. Hmm…whatever will I do?

The days up until her mother’s departure passed quickly and finally Buffy was granted the freedom to do as she pleased in her home; and so, Friday afternoon she found herself doing what every young woman should do in the absence of a guardianship…dancing around the living room in a T-shirt and underwear singing into a wooden spoon. Sugary foods had her floating high and candy pop music pumped through the speakers at an alarmingly loud level that her mother would most certainly not approve of. But for Buffy, this was heaven; she could literally let down her hair and act crazy without a care in the world. As the current song dwindled to an end, she faintly heard a ringing in the background. Turning the music off, she darted to the kitchen and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” She asked breathlessly, leaning against the doorframe for support.

“Buff? Is everything ok?” Angel asked, “You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“I’m fine, just…uh…had to run to get the phone. I was outside.” She fibbed, not wanting to let a college boy know what she had been up to. How immature would she sound if she told him the truth? “Hey! What time did you say you would pick me up? I totally spaced out and forgot.”

“Yeah, um…that’s what I was calling about, babe. My folks came into town at the last minute and I somehow got wrangled into taking my little sister out for the night. So, can we maybe push our plans back until tomorrow night?”

“Oh, yeah I guess. I was really looking forward to going out tonight though. I wanna dance.” Buffy stuck her bottom lip out in her signature pout, not thinking that her boyfriend couldn’t see what she was doing.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Just be ready at seven o’clock sharp and be prepared to be romanced, ok?” Angel promised before ending the conversation without getting her response. “See you tomorrow, Buff.”

“Ok?” Buffy stared at the phone quizzically as if it would explain Angel’s abrupt behavior, then shrugged and hung up the phone. She was halfway to the living room when an idea formed in her head. Turning around and grabbing the phone again, she dialed a familiar number that she hadn’t dialed in years. When someone picked up on the other end, she asked, “Xander?”

A couple hours later, she found herself perched on a stool at the Bronze with her childhood friend and happier than she had been all week long; the fiasco with Spike not forgotten, but amazingly shoved to the far recesses of her mind. Following her typical Buffy behavior, she figured that as long as she ignored the problem, it would eventually go away. After slurping the last dregs of the pink frosty beverage she had ordered, Buffy shivered as the liquor burned her throat. Xander had cleverly pilfered a flask of Rum from his parent’s liquor cabinet and snuck it inside the Bronze. Once they had ordered two non-alcoholic drinks, he had poured just enough into them to provide no more than a slight buzz for the evening. Setting her now empty cup onto the table, she motioned to the dance floor and asked, "Wanna dance?"

"Like I'd say no to dancing with the Buffster!" Xander replied, smiling ear to ear because he was out with his best friend from way back. Taking her hand, he helped her off the stool and led her to the dance floor where they spent the next five songs working up a sweat.

"Break!" Buffy shouted over the music before weaving through the mass of bodies that had converged on the dance floor. Plopping down onto a stool, she poked out her bottom lip and shook the empty cup in Xander’s direction; offering him a blinding smile when he obediently headed towards the bar to refill their drinks.

When he returned, Buffy graciously said, “Thank you!” and slurped down half of the concoction before she realized that Xander had already doused the drink in alcohol; causing her to cough furiously. “Oh, wow…that’s way stronger than the last one!”

“You want me to get you another one?” Xander offered; reaching for her cup.

“Don’t be silly. This one’s just peachy.” Buffy assured him, taking another long slurp through the straw. “Hey, Xan…don’t turn around and be all obvious guy, but you are totally being checked out.”

“Really? Where? Is she hot?” Unable to resist his urges, Xander turned around to find a very pretty girl with honey colored hair boldly staring in his direction. “Holy frijoles!”

“Go ask her to dance or something.” Buffy insisted. When he shook his head violently indicating that he wouldn’t be taking her advice, she eyeballed him and said, “Don’t make me go over and invite her to sit with us. Do you wanna look like a doofus that needs his friends to pick up chicks for him?”

“Fine, but when she shoots me down it’s your fault.” Xander sighed, pushing away from the table and heading towards where the girl was standing alone.

Buffy smiled proudly when they walked hand in hand to the dance floor and started dancing. Feeling lonely, Buffy finished off the last of her drink and headed to the bathroom so that she wouldn’t have to sit at the table by herself. Turning right into the hallway that led to the restrooms, she muttered, “Excuse me,” to the couple that was groping one another and blocking way. When they pulled apart, she blinked several times in disbelief and backed away. “Angel?”

“Buffy? W…what are you doing here? I thought you…uh, were staying at home tonight?” Angel stammered, untangling himself from the tentacle like arms of the curvaceous blonde that was currently pawing at him.

“You’re wondering why I am here? Hello? You’re all…like…sucking face with a girl that’s very much not me and I am the one getting the third degree?” Buffy demanded, crossing her arms across her chest and giving him the best stinky eye she could manage. “So, I guess this is your sister then, right? Close family?” Not bothering to wait for his explanation, she turned and started to stalk away; only to be jerked backwards when Angel’s meaty paw clamped around her upper arm.

“Buffy, come on…don’t be like this, baby. I slipped, ok?” Angel pleaded, trying to pull the struggling girl into his arms. “It’s not like you’re giving me anything. Gotta get it somewhere…guys can’t just not have sex. You said you weren’t ready and this way I didn’t have to pester you for it.”

“Have you totally lost your mind or have I slipped into an alternate dimension where girls actually fall for a bullshit excuse like that?” Buffy spat, finally getting free of his hold. “We’re over, Angel. Don’t call me…like ever.” Storming away, Buffy willed away the tears burning in her eyes and tried to ignore the “Little girl” comment that Angel yelled at her back; pushing her way through the bodies on the dance floor in search of Xander. In the middle of the dance floor, Buffy tugged on his arm and announced, “Hey Xan, I…uh…don’t feel too good all of the sudden. I’m gonna split, ok?”

“Hang on, ok? I’ll drive you home. Wait…what’s wrong? You don’t look sick, just mad.”

“So really don’t want to get into it right now. Look, you stay and dance and be all merry like. I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?” Buffy hurried off without waiting for his reply and rushed out of the club. Several blocks away from the Bronze a loud clap of thunder rang through the air and Buffy looked upwards to the sky, frowning at the heavy clouds that hung threateningly over her head and realized that walking home was not the best idea. The first plop of rain hit her square in the middle of the forehead and Buffy cursed loudly and started running towards home. Less than a second later, the heavens opened wide and she was caught in the midst of a torrential downpour. Giving up on the idea of making it home before getting too soaked, Buffy stopped running and strolled at a leisurely pace instead.

A loud rumbling noise came from behind her and all of the sudden Buffy was covered in the high beams of the car that was slowly approaching her. “Miss, do you need a lift? Bad night to be taking a walk, innit?”

“Um…no thanks. I’ll be fine.” Buffy called out, keeping her eyes straight ahead and focused on the sidewalk.

“Buffy? Pet, is that you?” Spike called from inside his black DeSoto; slamming down on the brakes. “Get in and I’ll drive you home, kitten.”

“Well, since I doubt you’re a hatchety serial killer, I will. Thanks.” Buffy replied as she slid into the vintage car, grateful to be out of the rain. Once she had given directions to her house, she leaned back against the leather seat and stared out the window. They rode in silence the entire way to her house, most of it very uncomfortable. Neither one knew exactly what to say to the other one since their last encounter nearly two weeks ago. When he pulled into the driveway, Buffy stared at the darkened house in confusion. “Dangit, I thought I left a light on. Now it’s all creepy and dark and I have to go in. Grr.”

“Tha’s right, kitten, I forgot you Mum was out of town.” Spike reached for the door handle and said, “Come on then, let’s go make sure there aren’t any boogie men waiting for you.”

Following behind him, Buffy chastised herself for admiring Spike’s backside when she had just broken things off with Angel; but was unable to tear her green eyes away from it anyway. ‘Bad Buffy!’ She thought to herself as she maneuvered in front of him and unlocked the front door. They stepped inside the foyer and she fumbled for the light switch, flicking it on and bathing them in soft light. “Um…thanks for doing this for me.”

“Not a problem, luv. Wouldn’t want any baddies eating you up; they love little girls, you know.” Spike joked; curling his tongue over his teeth in a suggestive leer. “Now, stay here and I’ll go-“ His words were cut off when Buffy smashed her lips against his, kissing him fiercely and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. ’Bad idea, mate. Need to push her away before things spiral rapidly out of control. His conscience warned. ‘Oh sod it all!’ The devil in him screamed, pushing all thoughts of doing right out of his mind as he slid his hands down her back to cup them under her bottom, pulling Buffy against his body roughly; not giving a care in the world that her soggy clothes were drenching his. Her hands were fisted in his hair, loosening the strands that were cemented with gel and a breathy moan escaped from her when they pulled apart to catch their breath. Spike stared down into her emerald green eyes, hazy with lust, and dared to ask, “Wha’ brought tha’ on, luv?”

“I’m not a little girl.”

Clothes were lost and scattered along the floor as they clumsily made their way upstairs to Buffy’s room. Joined together at the lips, their embrace was heated and passionate as they poured their wants and desires into the kiss. Breaking apart for a much needed breath of air, Buffy blushed profusely as Spike openly gazed at her body, which was clad in only a white lace bra and lavender hipster panties; making her feel very uncomfortable since he still had the luxury of pants.

“Why so shy, pet?” Spike murmured against her neck as he nuzzled the soft patch of skin just below her ear. He had her pulled tightly against his body, holding her hands down by their sides since she kept trying to use them to cover herself. “No need to cover yourself…bloody beautiful you are.”

His breath tickled her neck, sending chills along her spine and causing her heart to race rapidly. Never before had she felt feelings as strong as the ones coursing through her body at that moment; as if her head was spinning and the air was being sucked out of the room, leaving her with a sensation close to riding a roller coaster. “Spike, I…uh…need to tell you…something.” Buffy sputtered nervously. How would he react when she told him her secret? Would he laugh at her and call her a childlike Angel had? Her stomach was churning with anxiety, but the rest of her body pulsed with a desire and need for the man in front of her with a ferocity that she had never known.

“What is it, luv?” He murmured against her skin as he placed feather light kisses along her collarbone and shoulders. When her whispered response was so quiet that he was unable to decipher what she said, Spike looked up at her with a questioning gaze. Looking into Buffy’s emerald eyes that were darkened with lust, but possessed a grain of uncertainty that shocked Spike; causing him to pull away from her slightly and control his wandering hands. “Kitten, what’s wrong?”

“I…uh…never….you know….with the…um…sex?” Buffy muttered, dropping her gaze from his sapphire eyes and focusing them on the chair across the room.

Spike was shocked. While their previous conversations had led him in the direction that Buffy wasn’t overly experienced in the carnal knowledge department, Spike was surprised to find out that she was a virgin. “Oh.” He whispered, momentarily thrown for a loop. All of the sudden he was hit with the enormity of their situation. Buffy wanted him to be her first and here he was acting like a git. Gathering Buffy in his arms, Spike kissed her forehead and murmured, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, luv…we don’t have to do this, yeah?”

Tilting her head back, Buffy smiled at Spike and said, “No, it’s not that…I mean, yeah…I want to. I just thought you should know. I mean…I don’t know what to do and all.”

“But your first time should be special, romance and candles. Why wouldn’t you want that, kitten?”

“How many girls actually get that for their first time? Most of my girlfriends got it rushed and in the backseat of their boyfriends car. This…with you…it’d be special.” A horrible thought crossed her mind and Buffy stepped away from Spike and felt the edge of the bed at the backs of her knees, crossing her arms protectively across her chest. In a small voice wavering with uncertainty, she asked, “Do you…do you not want me now?”

“Oh God, kitten…no, tha’s not it. Course I want you, wanted you since the first day you stepped into m’life. I just don’t want you thinking we have to have sex. Don’t want to rush things.” He stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders, pressing her down onto the bed and kneeled between her legs. Reaching out, Spike brushed a wayward strand out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Every inch of his body was on fire, burning with a desire to be nestled deep within Buffy and his cock throbbed painfully inside his jeans. “You believe me, yeah? ‘s not about not wanting you, pet…” He assured Buffy who still looked doubtful. Taking one of her hands in his, Spike cupped it over his groin and whispered hoarsely, “Can you feel how much I want you? Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Buffy raised her eyes to meet Spike’s and felt a wave of moisture flow between her legs at the amount of passion and desire that was pooled in their ocean blue depths. The still unfamiliar ache between her legs multiplied and she fought the urge to slip a hand between them to relieve the pressure herself. “Spike…” She whispered, unsure of what to say; settling on leaning forward and capturing his lips, pulling him closer.

His resolve broke then and there, Buffy’s sensuous moans and the fact that her tiny hand was now massaging his cock through his jeans cut off all rational thought to his brain. As he settled Buffy back onto the bed and nestled himself between her thighs, Spike had a fleeting thought that he was on the fast track to Hell, but quickly pushed it away when she reached out and started undoing his pants.

Still lying underneath Spike, who was propped up on his elbows, Buffy let out a startled gasp when his rigid member thrust out when she unzipped the fly of his jeans; surprised to find that Spike wasn’t wearing any underwear. Pushing the pants down over his ass and down his thighs where he shook them free and onto the floor, she gulped nervously and looked back up at him. “That is so not going to fit.”

“It’ll fit, luv…promise.” Spike assured her, chuckling softly as Buffy continued to stare openly at his engorged member. Slipping his hand behind her back, he undid her bra and pulled it away from her body, relishing the sight of the breasts he had been obsessing over for weeks now. Leaning down, he swirled his tongue around one pert nipple before taking it fully into his mouth; causing Buffy to moan deeply and arch into him.

After he lavished attention to her breasts, Spike kissed down her stomach slowly, dipping his tongue into her belly button before continuing his exploration downwards until he reached the edge of her underwear. Once again kneeling on the floor, he hooked his thumbs around the sides, he said, “Lift up for me, luv.”

Obeying, Buffy lifted up from the mattress and allowed him to slide her panties off her legs. She eyeballed him curiously when he placed her thighs over his shoulders, “Um…whatcha doin’ I mean…you…uh, don’t have to do that?”

“Wanna taste you, kitten.” Spike replied, kissing along her inner thigh and inhaled deeply; savoring the scent of her arousal that seeped from her core. With his tongue, Spike slowly licked along her slit and grinned when she gasped loudly and bucked against him. “Like that, pet?”

“Mmm…hmm…” Buffy moaned, unable to form any coherent thought as Spike’s tongue twirled around the sensitive bud. Warm tingles started low in her belly, bubbling up until the lower half was burning with need. She gasped with a combination of surprise and pleasure when Spike eased one finger inside of her; circling the chamber slowly before sliding in another one and pumping them in and out of her all the while timing the motions with each swipe of his tongue. When her world shattered, Buffy tossed her head back with her eyes closed tightly and mouth open in a silent scream of bliss as she fisted her hands in Spike’s hair, pressing his mouth closer to her throbbing center. Pinpricks of lights danced behind her closed eyelids as her toes curled in ecstasy and Buffy whimpered in satisfaction as her body trembled with aftershocks. “Mmm…that was…” She murmured, not bothering to finish her thought.

Captivated by her beauty, Spike remained nestled between her quivering thighs and watched as she slowly drifted back to reality. Her face was flush from desire, mouth open slightly as she panted and tried to catch her breath, eyes glazed with lust and Spike thought that he had never seen anyone as enchanting as Buffy.

When their eyes connected, Spike smiled and placed a kiss to each inner thigh before crawling up the bed to settle next to her. “Taste like heaven, you do…like honey covered peaches and whipped cream, kitten.” In the semi-darkness of the room, the only illumination faintly covering them from a light pole just outside the window, Spike could still tell when she blushed from his comment. Propping up on an elbow, he leaned down and brushed a feather light kiss across her swollen lips and knew that this was enough for one night. Instinctively, Buffy seemed to know that he didn’t intend to go any further and questioned him with her eyes before whispering, “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, precious…you’ve given me more than I could’ve ever asked for tonight.” Tucking his hand around her waist, Spike pulled her closer to him; her back against his front, his rigid member tucked safely between the soft mounds of her ass. “We’ve got all the time in the world, luv… Get some sleep, yeah?” He thought for a moment that she might challenge him, but the only thing that came from Buffy was the unmistakable sound of a yawn.

Chuckling, Spike kissed her shoulder and muttered another goodnight before reaching behind him, patting the bed for a minute and pulling the comforter that Buffy had tossed aside that morning and over their naked bodies. It took him nearly an hour to fall asleep, content to just watch Buffy as she slept, but finally the need for rest took over and Spike drifted off into a deep slumber with a smile still on his face.

Buffy’s heart skipped a beat as his lips caressed every inch of skin that was bared to his hungry gaze. The thought that any man would look at her with that much intensity, that much heated desire made her skin tingle with anticipation and her body ache with need; all of which were foreign emotions for her. “I…I’m really…n…” She stammered, trying to object to his declaration of her beauty; but when her eyes locked with his, indigo blue and simmering with a combination of lust and adoration, it shocked her and she whispered, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me…just statin’ the obvious, luv.” Spike whispered against the soft skin in the hollow of her neck. Her hands were fisted in his hair, fingers idly tousling the softened curls that were now free of gel; occasionally brushing along the nape of his neck and causing Spike to shudder in delight. He was aching to be inside of her, his throbbing member strained against the thin slip of sheet that was nestled between them, no doubt pressed against Buffy’s thigh.

The breathy sighs Buffy was emitting were driving him insane with an animalistic need to ravage her body and it took all of his self control to pull away from her writhing body. “Kitten…I think we need to stop.” Spike panted as he rested his forehead against hers.

“Huh?” Buffy relied, slowly coming out of a lust induced haze. “Why stop? I told you I was ready, Spike.” Insecurity overwhelmed her again and she nibbled her bottom lip nervously.

“Hmm…well, have you stopped to consider that maybe I’m not?” Spike murmured, his voice tinged with amusement as he kissed her forehead lightly. Their eyes connected for barely a second when her eyes lit up and she tried to shove him away; obviously thinking that he didn’t want to be with her. “Tha’s not how I meant it, kitten. ‘s just that there’s some things that I need to take care of before we go any further.”

“Oh. So, um…what’s the uh…what?”

“Well, I don’t think its right proper for me to shag you while I’m still currently living in Evie’s house, yeah? ‘s not like we’re actually together; haven’t seen her in nearly three weeks. And, just so you know, I fully intend on breaking things off completely with her when she and Cordy get home Sunday night. So, when I leave ‘ere I’m goin’ to pack up my meager belongings and get a hotel room until I can find a place of my own.” He stopped briefly to catch his breath and chuckle at Buffy’s shocked expression; only continuing his speech after brushing a kiss across her lips. “Secondly, I fully intend on taking you on an actual date. That is, if it’s all right with you, luv.”


After what seemed like hours, but in reality was only about thirty minutes, they finally managed to untangle themselves from not only the sheets, but also from one another. There had been a brief awkwardness while getting dressed, mainly on Buffy’s part since she had never been that unclothed in front of a man in broad daylight, but she had overcome her shyness as Spike’s eyes seemed to never leave her body; filled with a wanton lust that had her practically shaking with desire. Overcome with want, he had stalked across the bedroom and promptly drew her into his arms, backed her against a wall and attacked her lips with a ferocity that had her mind spinning. By the time he was able to get out the front door, Spike’s demeanor was very much on the disheveled side and he was minus his black undershirt; which Buffy had claimed on her way to the bathroom.

Spike promised to be back to pick her up in two hours, which gave Buffy more than enough time to shower and get dressed. However, she was having a great deal of difficulty deciding what to wear since he wouldn’t tell her where he was taking her for dinner. Normally, Buffy would just throw on a pair of jeans and whatever shirt happened to strike her fancy; but tonight was different, it was special. Shoving aside all of her typical everyday clothes, she found what she was looking for shoved almost nearly to the back of her closet. It was a sundress her mother had bought for her on a whim, hoping Buffy would actually wear it. Slipping the garment over her head, careful not to mess up her hair that she had painstakingly hot rolled to perfection, Buffy admired herself in the mirror. The black gossamer material, adorned with cabbage roses in various hues ranging from crimson to rose, fell nearly to the floor and clinged to her curves as if the dress were made specifically for her.

Upon closer inspection, Buffy realized that the wispy spaghetti straps were too small to allow for a standard bra and since she despised the strapless style, she decided to go without. After a great deal of wriggling, she tossed the offending garment onto the dresser and studied her reflection again; this time deciding it was just right. Slipping on a pair of black sandals, she headed out of her bedroom just as the doorbell chimed.

Spike was surprised to find that he was nervous about taking Buffy out on a real date. And because of said nervousness, he was currently fidgeting like a nancy boy on her front porch. When she opened the door, however, he realized that his current condition was instantly multiplied and he stammered incoherently. “Wow…I mean, hello…um, hi!” Totally lacking all social skills at this point, he thrust the bouquet of white and pink roses directly into Buffy’s face. “You…look beautiful, pet.”

Just as anxious as Spike, Buffy paid no attention to his nervous rambling as she took the flowers from him, promptly stuck her face directly into them and inhaled deeply; sighing in pleasure at the aroma. “Thank you! Um…lemme put them in some water, and then we can go. Where are we going anyway?”

“Nice try, luv…but it’s a surprise.” He replied, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind as she filled a vase with water for the roses. “Better hurry it along though; we’ve got about a two hour drive.”

As Spike had predicted, the drive took nearly two hours and shortly after their arrival at the quaint seaside restaurant Buffy was nearly in tears at the overwhelming feelings that were consuming her body. He had obviously put in a great deal of time in making sure that their first date was something straight out of a romantic movie. Sequestered in the darkened corner of the patio, the white covered table was decked out with several white votive candles as well as a small vase with pink roses like the ones he had given her earlier. “Jus’ wanted tonight to be special, luv.” He had whispered into her ear as she gushed in awe over the romantic setting.

After dinner, which had included a To Die For desert of chocolate soufflé, they had walked hand in hand along the shore before heading back to the car for the long ride home. Now, as the night drew to an end, they stood awkwardly on Buffy’s front porch; both unsure of what to do next.

“I had a really good time tonight.” Buffy finally said as she fidgeted with her keys. Shyly, she eased up onto the tips of her toes and placed a kiss onto his cheek before tumbling into his open arms.

“Me, too. Best bloody night of m’life, pet.” Spike whispered hoarsely, turning his head so that his cheek rested against her hair. Inhaling, he lost himself for a moment in the smell that was uniquely Buffy; a heady mixture of honey and vanilla, with hints of violets and sunshine. “Mmm…m’drowning in you, luv. Don’t want this night to end.”

“Then it shouldn’t…end, I mean.” Buffy whispered, pulling back to look up into Spike’s eyes. “Stay with me tonight.” She said, more of a command than a request as she took hold of his hand and pulled him into the darkened house.

“I’ll stay with you forever, pet…all you have to do is ask.” Spike murmured before pulling her against him roughly and devouring her lips with his own. Momentarily they broke apart, panting, and climbed the stairs to Buffy’s bedroom where Spike took her back into his arms.

Their movements were shaky and hurried as they peeled clothes off of one another’s bodies; desperate for the feeling of flesh against flesh. Once bared to each other’s nudity, Spike swept Buffy into his arms and laid her gently onto the bed. Thinking that she looked like an angel, golden hair spread out against the pale pillowcase; faint light from the moon casting an ethereal hue upon her body. “God you’re beautiful.” He whispered; his breath hot against her skin. Slowly, Spike crawled up her body, placing kisses to her calves, thighs and stomach along the way.

It never crossed Buffy’s mind to argue with Spike as he uttered how beautiful she was with every kiss to her body; she was far too gone with desire to do anything other than nod along in agreement with whatever he said. Finally, he was nestled between her quivering thighs and gazing at her with such intensity that moisture pooled at her sensitive apex; the throbbing core that was begging for release. She arched into his hand as it slid between their bodies, pressing against her clit. “Mmm…” Her moan escaped, breathy and filled with lust.

“So bloody beautiful, my golden goddess, you are. Going out of m’mind for you, luv. Can’t wait to be buried inside your delectable lil’ quim.” Spike slipped a finger inside her channel, felt it tighten immediately against his intrusion and mind was overcome with need as he thought about how she would feel around his cock. “So wet for me already, pet…you want me as much as I want you, don’t you?”

Unable to speak, Buffy writhed against his hand as it pumped slowly in and out of her body; overcome by passion. Eyes closed, she nodded in response as he added another finger and began to massage her clit at an achingly slow speed. “Spike…I…oh, I need…”

“What is it, kitten? Tell me what you need.” Just being in the same bed with her was driving him insane, the feel of her bare flesh, heated against is skin, combined with the intoxicating aroma of her sex was overwhelming. “God, what you do to me…” Spike murmured just as Buffy’s first orgasm catapulted through her body; causing her to spasm beneath him. Leaning down, he waited until she floated back down to Earth before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

“Mmph…Spike! Buffy pulled back from the embrace, feeling the tip of his cock nudging against her entrance. When met with his questioning gaze, she quickly stammered, “Protection. I’m not…uh, on the pill.”

“Oh bloody buggering hell! I left them in m’bag in the car.” Spike cried woefully, “Be right back, luv.”

“No wait! I…um…have some.” Buffy blushed profusely at her admittance, especially when Spike wagged his eyebrows at her and hooked his tongue over his front teeth in the suggestive way he was oh so good at doing. “I mean…not that I…um…expected to use them, but anyway…” Amazingly, she was able to stop her stammering and point at the stuffed pig that had somehow taken up residence on the floor. “Can you hand me Mr. Gordo?”

“Mr. Gordo? Honestly?” He inquired as he leaned over to get the stuffed animal in question. “Why, may I ask do you need this, kitten?”

“Because of this.” She stated as she unzipped the pig’s chest compartment and pulled out a short strand of condoms. “I got them as a gag gift from Cordy.” Buffy clarified, instantly regretting that she had to mention her best friend’s name in the current situation they were in.

Sensing her discomfort, Spike reached out and took the condoms from her hand, peeled off one and set it aside before leaning down to kiss her again; immediately erasing any bad thoughts from either of their minds. When he thought that she was pleasantly distracted, he opened the wrapper, reached between their now sweat glistened bodies and rolled the condom down his length. Positioning himself at her entrance, he whispered, “Are you ready, pet?” He asked cautiously when their eyes met and Buffy nodded, smiling at him in a way that caused his heart to ache, hating that he was about to cause her pain. Sliding inside, Spike groaned as her heat surrounded him; when he came to her virgin barrier, he paused and whispered, “’m sorry pet, I promise to try to not hurt you anymore than this.” Thrusting forward, he flinched when her fingernails dug into his biceps and she cried out softly in pain. Peppering her face with kisses, he whispered, “Buffy, luv…we can stop if it’s too much.”

Buffy felt hot tears leak out of the corners of her eyes and slide down her cheeks. Knowing that her tears would cause Spike to worry, she shook her head side to side and whispered, “No! Just…go slow, ok?” She felt him timidly start to move inside her and slowly she started moving with him. Their bodies flush against one another, her hips meeting his as his shaft sank deep inside her womb; hitting the sensitive ball of nerves buried there. Heat spread throughout her lower body, causing her legs to tremble with passion as their movements became heated and frenzied with need. “Oh, my….Mmm…Spike!” Buffy chanted along with his thrusts, gripping his arms tighter and tighter until she was sure that blood had been drawn. Her eyes closed tightly as she felt her release begin to take over.

“Keep ‘em open, luv…I wan’ to watch as you come.” Spike ordered breathlessly, pumping into her tight opening; wild with desire and need to consume her completely.

Her eyes open now, glimmering like pools of liquid emeralds, he watched as her orgasm ripped through her body; mouth agape as she moaned her pleasure loudly, clinging to his body like a lifeline and inherently female muscular legs wrapped around his narrow waist, trembling madly as her release neared its end. Desperately aching to share this moment with her, Spike drove harder into her body, causing her screams to grow louder with each thrust until finally he exploded into her womb; stars bursting behind his eye lids and screaming madly as Buffy bit down onto his shoulder as her own release subsided.

For several moments they lay there in complete silence, too overwhelmed to do anything other than try to catch their breath. When Spike slid from her body, he felt a surprising feeling of sadness, as if he were no longer complete and was once again shocked at how much he cared for Buffy. Pressing a kiss to her forehead he excused himself to the bathroom to discard the used condom quickly so that he could hurry back into the bedroom to Buffy. When he got back to the bed, he found that she had already pulled back the comforter and crawled underneath; sliding in beside her, Spike folded his arms around her tiny frame and held her until long after they had fallen asleep.

The sun had already raised high into the sky and both Spike and Buffy were in a deep sleep. So deep, that they never heard the front door slam shut, the heavy footsteps of someone climbing the stairs in a hurry, nor did they pay any attention to the sharp intake of breath that came shortly before the shrill shout.

“Buffy Anne Summers!”

Joyce Summers considered herself to be a pretty hip, laid back type of person; both in her personal life, as well as motherhood. Therefore, when she pulled up to her house and found what could only be described as a ‘hunk of junk’ taking up the entire driveway she shrugged her shoulders and decided to park on the street, figuring Buffy had a friend over. The fact that none of her daughter’s friends drove that type of vehicle never crossed her mind. Putting the Jeep Cherokee into park, she climbed out and grabbed her suitcase before strolling up the walkway to the front porch.

When she opened the front door and stared at the mess her teenage daughter had managed to leave in the living room, magazines and empty food wrappers tossed haphazardly on tables and the floor, Joyce just shook her head and made a mental note to talk to Buffy about cleanliness. Leaving her bag near the door, she quickly peeked into the dining room to see if maybe Buffy was in there with friends; finding no one, she headed up stairs to locate her daughter.

As she reached Buffy’s partially open bedroom door, Joyce frowned when she spotted the reason for the open doorway; knowing full well that her daughter preferred to sleep with a closed door. Blocking the door from closing all the way was a well-worn black boot; a boot that was very much not of the teenaged daughter variety. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, Joyce hesitantly pushed open Buffy’s door and stuck her head inside; instantly regretting her decision to do so.

Momentarily shocked beyond words, Joyce stood there doing her best impression of a guppy; eyes locked on the sight before her. Lying in her daughter’s bed was a man she had never seen, comfortably sleeping on his back with her very naked teenage daughter curled up against his side. Buffy’s head was resting in the crook between his shoulder and his chest, her blonde hair tousled and spread out behind her, with only a scant scrap of bed sheet covering her body.

It was this sight that caused her otherwise relaxed demeanor to become unleashed. Joyce forced her voice to come forth and shrilly shouted, “Buffy Anne Summers!”

“Just a few more…minutes…mkay, Mom?” Buffy muttered sleepily, burying her head further into Spike’s embrace. Sighing against his chest, Buffy prepared to drift off back into a deep sleep, but was jolted awake as her current position finally penetrated her consciousness.

Spike was asleep and Buffy was amazed that the rising decibel of her mother’s voice hadn’t woken him. Eyes wide open at this point, Buffy reached between their bodies and made sure the sheet covered her bare chest before sitting up to face the proverbial music. “Um…whatcha doin’ back so early?” She asked timidly; completely unsure of how to handle the situation. As she watched her mother’s eyes light up with barely controlled rage, she realized that maybe asking why she was home so soon wasn’t the best way to approach the subject.


“Young lady, “Joyce started, her voice seething with anger, “this is my house and I will damn well come home whenever I feel like doing so.” Her livid eyes bore holes through Buffy before sliding down to focus on her daughter’s bedmate. “Excuse me?! Hello? You there…in bed with my daughter!” She cried, her voice rising with every word. When she didn’t get the desired response, Joyce tossed the heavy boot she had been clutching in her hand straight at Spike; which landed with a loud thud and caused him to angrily shout, “Bloody hell!” He shouted, rubbing the red spot on his chest as he sat up. “What the…Oh, bollocks!”

“Listen, I don’t know who you are, but you need to get the hell out of this house before I call the cops.”

“The cops! Mom! You can’t do that!” Buffy shrieked, shooting off the bed in a flash with the sheet clutched against her chest. “No! I…I…he came…home…I asked him here!”

“I may be old, Buffy, but I can still see well enough to know that this man is very much over the age of eighteen; which, by the way, you are not and is illegal in this state. So, yes! He can either leave now or have a nice little chat with the police.” Joyce pointedly looked at Spike before turning around to leave the room.

Buffy was already heading to the door with only a sheet clutched around her when Spike called out to her. “Buffy, pet…don’t go make anything worse, yeah? I’ll just go for now and maybe later when things calm down; we can all sit down and talk.” Climbing out of the bed, Spike pulled on his jeans and crossed the room to take Buffy into his arms. “It’ll be all right, luv…just give it time.” His eyes searched hers for understanding before leaning down to kiss her; a soft, gentle brush of the lips.

Spike threw on the rest of his clothes while Buffy returned to the bed and perched on the edge, her eyes filled with tears and the bed sheet still clutched to her breast; it never crossed her mind that she, too, needed to get dressed. After one last lingering embrace, she reluctantly let him go and followed him downstairs where her mother was impatiently waiting by the front door.

“Ma’am, I truly am sorry for causing…” Spike started to apologize, only to be cut off by Joyce’s hand; which was placed in front of his face in the standard ‘STOP’ sign. “It’s time for you to leave and not come back; that is unless you want trouble.”

Tears streaked down Buffy’s splotched face as she watched him disappear out the front door; her heart breaking into a thousand tiny pieces as her love walked out of her life. As the heavy wooden door slammed shut with resounding finality, Buffy forced her gaze in the direction of her mother; meeting Joyce’s angry glare full on. “Mom? I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t even want to hear it, Buffy. Just go to your room. I can’t look at you right now.” Joyce shook her head disapprovingly at her crying teenager before heading into the dining room for a much needed soothing drink. “I’ll deal with you later.”

As she tearfully watched her mother retreat into the safety of the dining room, Buffy sank to the stairs where she continued to cry; that is, until she heard the telltale sounds of her mother opening the bar. Realizing that her mother was shutting her out, Buffy slowly stood up and crept up the stairs to her bedroom, where she laid down on the bed; curled up in the fetal position and sobbed into the pillow that Spike’s head had been on earlier.

Several hours later, the sun already well on its descent for the evening, Buffy crawled out of bed for the second time that day. This time, she stumbled through the partial darkness to the bathroom and turned the water on as hot as possible before climbing in. The water was beginning to turn cold by the time she got out, wrapped a towel around her body like the sheet had done earlier, and headed back to her bedroom; where she was unpleasantly greeted by her mother.

“So, is this how you planned on thanking me for letting you finally stay home by yourself?” Joyce demanded, her voice slightly slurred from the gin she had consumed to soothe her nerves. “One weekend, Buffy! I was only gone for two days and you’re already out acting like a dog in heat. How do you expect me to ever trust you again?”

“I wasn’t acting like a slut, Mom. I…I’ve known, Sp…er, William, for a while now.” Figuring it best not to use the nickname he favored since Cordelia’s mom had most likely mentioned it to Joyce; Buffy mentally thanked her lucky stars that her mother had been too busy lately to take the time to meet Evie’s newest conquest. “I…I love him, Mom.”

“Love!? What do you know about love, Buffy? He was just using you for sex. That’s what all men do, and then they leave. That’s what they’re good at, and nothing more.” Joyce ranted; sloshing gin and tonic over the edge of the glass she was holding; causing it to spill onto Buffy’s carpet. She paused long enough to eyeball her daughter, “You know what the really sad part about all this is, Buffy? I came home a day early today to take you shopping for new school clothes since my work was already complete. Plus, I didn’t want to miss your first day as a senior. Nice to see what caring for you got me, huh?” Not caring about the fresh wave of tears spilling from her daughter’s eyes, Joyce started to leave. “Needless to say, you’re grounded. No parties, no Cordelia and certainly no Bronze until further notice. It’s to school, cheerleading practice and home; that’s it. Is that clear?”

“Clear.” Buffy whispered as her mother left the room. Wiping furiously at the tears on her cheeks, she rummaged through the dresser until she found her favorite Yummy Sushi pajamas. After getting dressed and running a comb through her wet hair, which she tied back in a bun, she decided to appease her mother by cleaning her room, but decided against changing the sheets right away since they smelled like Spike.

A pleasant hour of silence passed before her mother stumbled up the stairs, obviously on her way to bed, but had a change of heart and decided to stop by Buffy’s bedroom for another round of yelling. Figuring the best way to handle her mother’s mood was to stay quiet; Buffy meekly nodded along in agreement with Joyce until she gave up, left the room and slammed her bedroom door behind her. Buffy stood there, shaken, for a moment before climbing into bed and allowing the calming scent of Spike to help her drift off to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, a quiet yet persistent tapping on her bedroom window roused Buffy from a fitful slumber. Flipping on the bedside lamp, Buffy gasped when she spotted a shock of white hair at her window; which she quickly unlatched with a luminous smile. When Spike regained his footing after almost tumbling into her bedroom, Buffy threw herself at him; relishing the feel of having Spike back in her arms. “Ohmygod, I missed you so much!” She whispered, tilting her head back to kiss him. Buffy’s face fell with disappointment when Spike untangled himself from her grasp, a frown marring his handsome face and without accepting her kiss. “What’s wrong?”

“Evangeline and Cordelia were just returning home when I got there, and well, I left her.” He explained, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to Buffy. The past few hours alone, driving aimlessly through the streets, had given him a lot of time to reflect on the situation that he had left Buffy in earlier and breaking the conclusion to her was going to be the hardest thing Spike had ever had to do. “We need to talk.”

“Huh…seems like we were already sorta like doing that.” Buffy replied, trying to be upbeat and cheerful even though those four words that Spike had just uttered were never a good sign. Crossing her arms across her chest protectively, Buffy backed away from him and stood by the closet. “Well?”

“I know this is goin’ to hurt, luv, but I don’ think we should see one another for a while. At least until you’re older, yeah? That way no one can tell us that what we have is wrong.” Spike hesitantly stepped towards Buffy, whose chin was trembling and eyes shining bright with tears once again; but stopped when she backed away from his reach. “Buffy, kitten…there’s just so many years between us and I think you need to take some time to experience life before we settle into a heavy relationship. Plus, with your mother…I know how close you two are and I don’ wan’ to come between you. Please say somethin’, luv.”

“Ok, so obviously not your ‘love’ as you have made very clear in that uber heartwarming speech you just made. And, who made you the Grand Poobah of Buffy’s Life Decisions? Nobody, that’s who!” Buffy sighed loudly, her body shaking with anger and resentment. “I guess my mom was right, you only wanted sex. Does it make you happy that you were my first? Gonna go strut around with your chest all puffed out proudly?”

“Buffy…please, just try to see this from my perspective!” Spike pleaded, bridging the gap between them; where he tried his best to pull Buffy into his arms.

With all of her might, Buffy shoved Spike away from her and cried, “Get out! Just go! That’s what you’re good at right?! Leave me alone!” When he tried once again to console her, Buffy slapped him across the face; leaving a red welt on his cheek. “Go away before I scream. This time, I’ll let my mom actually call the cops.”

Dejectedly, Spike turned away from her and headed for the open window. “I never meant for this to happen, Buffy. You have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to trust anything you say, Spike. Leave, please.” Buffy replied before Spike sighed and disappeared out the window into the night. Shaking, Buffy crossed the bedroom and tore the sheets from her bed, not wanting any reminders of Spike, and then crumbled onto the bare mattress in a heap of tears and sniffles.

“Ok, what’s with the homeless look, Buffy?” Cordelia asked sarcastically, even though there was a smile on her face, as she sat down at the table with a loud clank from the lunch tray. With a look of total disdain and shock, she glanced over Buffy’s holey jeans and T-shirt combo one more time before asking, “You are aware that you look like poop warmed over, right?”

“Yes, and thanks for the confidence boost, Cordy.” Buffy replied, idly pushing a French fry through a puddle of ketchup. “I overslept. Mom erupted on me last night and I didn’t feel like spending more time at home than I had to this morning.”

“So whatdya do to get Joyce’s undies all in a tizzy?”

“Really don’t wanna get into right now. Let’s just say that I am seriously grounded and shouldn’t plan on having any fun for a very long time.” Buffy paused long enough to finally pop the ketchup drenched fry into her mouth. “Obviously changing the subject…how was the pageant? You didn’t call me last night like you were supposed to.”

“I won, of course. Next step…Miss Teen California pageant in the spring. As for calling you, while my night was nowhere as exciting as yours, we had our fair share of fun at Chase manor...Spike moved out.” Cordelia missed the sudden peak of interest in her best friend’s eyes at the mention of her mother’s former live in lover’s name; too busy tossing flirtatious glances across the lunchroom to where the football players were sitting.

“He…uh…moved out? Why?” Buffy managed to choke out, trying her best to act nonchalant.

“Dunno, really. Got bored listening to them arguing after a while and went to my room. Mom totally spent a fortune on my new wardrobe for this year! You so have to come by and check it out.” She paused to take a sip of her sparkling water before continuing after getting a glare from Buffy. “Oh, right…Momma Drama. Anyway, long story short, Spike called it quits, Mom cried, Spike moved out”

“Oh, um…but why would he leave your mom, didn’t they get along?”

“Never really saw much of each other, really; between her work and his class schedule.” Cordelia nibbled on her bottom lip for a minute, lost in thought. “He went back to LA, maybe he has someone there? Mom was really upset, but honestly…I think it had more to do with him having the nerve to leave her than the actual breaking up. You know how fragile her ego can be.”

‘Spike’s gone. He really left me.’ Buffy thought miserably. Suddenly overcome with nausea, Buffy realized that the meager lunch she had managed to consume threatened to make a repeat performance. Pushing away from the table, she gave an apologetic look to her very much confused best friend before darting out of the lunch room. Blindly, she ran through the hallways and managed to keep the tears burning in her eyes at bay until she was safely tucked inside a stall in the women’s bathroom. It was only then, that Buffy sank to the floor and let her emotions consume her.

~*~*~*~*~


The remainder of the day passed in a blur; teachers faces were hazy and their lessons already forgotten. When the final bell rang, Buffy nearly catapulted out of her desk, ready to go home and bury her sorrows in a pint of chocolate ice cream. Walking towards her locker, a loud groan of disappointment escaped her mouth when she spotted Cordelia literally bouncing down the hallway. Cheerleading practice! How could she have forgotten? Now, it would be at least another two hours before she could escape to the sanctuary that is her bedroom.

“Hey, Buff! You feel any better?” Cordelia asked as she bounced to a stop beside Buffy. “It wasn’t the school food was it? Cuz’ that’s like way gross. I am so glad that my nutritionist makes sure I don’t have to put any of that slime they try to pass of as food into my mouth. Gives me the heebie jeebies just thinking about eating mystery meat!” Finally, she stopped her mindless drabble when she realized that Buffy had yet to respond and was staring at her blankly. “Oh…not so much the food, huh? So, you ever gonna tell me what happened with your Mom?”

“Someday.” Buffy muttered, stuffing the books she needed for her homework into her backpack. How could she tell her best friend what had actually happened? Telling Cordelia would only shatter their trust and ruin their friendship, but would lying be any better? Taking a deep breath, Buffy did the only thing she could think of, omit the truth. That wasn’t exactly lying, was it? “It’s just that she was drinking and said some stuff that really hurt. I’m not totally done processing all of it, yet.”

“You know you can always talk to me, right? It’s been a while, but I still know what it feels like when your Mom acts like that.” Cordelia waited for Buffy to nod before leaning in to give her a hug. “Ok, therapy time is over…time for practice!” She exclaimed, shutting Buffy’s locker and looping her arm through her friend’s to escort her towards the gymnasium.

~*~*~*~*~


After two and a half grueling hours, Buffy’s legs and arms felt like a bowl of jelly from practice. She was officially tired of doing back tucks, straddles and any other type of punishing acrobats for the remainder of the day. Lugging her backpack and cheerleading bag over her shoulders, she headed out of the gym and began the arduous walk home since Cordelia had a “study date”.

By the time she had made it three blocks from Sunnydale High School, Buffy was barely shuffling along at a snail’s pace. Thankfully, that was the precise moment that Xander came to her rescue in his beat up truck.

“Hey there, pretty lady!” He exclaimed, coming to a stop where she had given up and tossed her bags onto the sidewalk in a heap. “Need a lift?”

“Need a stretcher, is more like it! I totally slacked on training over the summer and laid around like a couch potato. Two hours of practice and I think I might croak.” Buffy groaned, tossing her bags in the bed of the two toned truck before climbing into the cab. “You’re my hero.”

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for…always handy for the rescuing of damsels in distress.” Xander joked. “So, what happened the other night at the Bronze? You flew out of their like your butt was on fire!”

“I had the extreme pleasure of catching my somewhat boyfriend in a major lip lock with some ho-bag. Didn’t really feel like staying around after that. I’m sorry for bugging out of there so soon, but…hey! How did things go with um…what’s her name?”

“She’d be Anya and things are very much of the good if you know what I mean.” Xander answered with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. When met with Buffy’s knowing and sarcastic gaze, he muttered, “What? Could’ve gotten lucky if I wasn’t all gentleman-like.”

Smiling, Buffy reached across the cab to pat Xander on the arm, sympathetically. “Of course you could have, Xan.” Her comment received more grumbling from Xander. “See if I bring you pizza after work tonight.”

“Oh no! Not that! I take it all back, Xan! Forgive me, please and shower me with yummy cheesy goodness, pretty puh-lease!” Buffy begged, bouncing up and down on the seat.

“Fine, but only because you asked nicely.” He relented, pulling the truck into Buffy’s driveway. “I’ll bring it by around seven, ok?”

“Cool! See you later and thanks for the ride, Xan!” Buffy shouted as she jumped out of the cab and grabbed her bags from the back. With a final wave, she disappeared into the house.

“Buffy?” Joyce called from the kitchen, “Can you come in here, please?”

Tossing her bags onto the floor in the foyer, Buffy put on her brave-face and headed towards the back of the house to the kitchen. She hadn’t seen her mother since last night when they argued, having managed to sneak out of the house before she had woken up this morning, and needless to say, Buffy was nervous. Poking her head into the room, Buffy asked, “What’s up?”

“I just thought we needed to talk… um, last night.” Joyce said sheepishly as she wringed a dishtowel with her hands. Her nervousness seemed to start to evaporate when Buffy crawled onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “You hungry?”

“Nope, but thanks. Xan said he’d bring a pizza when he gets off work; don’t want to ruin my appetite.” Buffy squirmed in her seat and noticed two used coffee mugs on the counter next to her. “What’s up with those? Have company?”

“Huh? Oh…those, um…Barb came over. You know, the lady from the book club I joined?” Hastily, Joyce grabbed the cups and shoved them into the sink before turning back to her daughter. “Honey, I just want to apologize for the way I handled things last night. You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s ok, really. I messed up and you got mad. It’s understandable.”

“No, sweetie, the way I overacted was just unacceptable. I said some pretty mean things that were way out of line and I hope you can forgive me.” Joyce walked around the side of the kitchen island and stood next to Buffy. “Please?” She asked, opening her arms for a hug; which Buffy gratefully accepted.

“Course I forgive you, I mean, you’re my Mom.” Buffy sniffled and buried her head against her mother’s chest. “I really am sorry for doing what I did.”

“I guess I just have to accept that my little girl is growing up.” Joyce pulled back and looked down at her daughter’s tear streaked face. “You two were…um…careful, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Buffy managed to choke out as she pulled away from Joyce. She sniffled once more and wiped at her eyes.

“Sweetie, I know things seem pretty dreary right now, but over time it’ll get better. I promise.” Tucking a strand of hair behind Buffy’s ear, she said, “There were just too many years between the two of you. Seven years holds a great deal of growing up in them.”

“How’d you know he was that much older than me?” Buffy asked, curiously.

“I…um…guess you must have mentioned it yesterday, honey. How else would I have known?” Busying herself with the dishes, Joyce kept her back turned away from Buffy for a minute while she put away the clean bowls.

“Yeah, ok…maybe I did. Um, I’ve got some homework to do before dinner.” Easing off the barstool, she headed for the door. Just before leaving, she turned back to her mother and said, “Maybe we can watch a movie when the pizza gets here?”

“Sure, sweetie, “Joyce replied, “I’ll call you when Xander gets here and remember-time heals all wounds.”

~*~*~*~*~



And it did. Get better, that is. Eventually, she no longer cried herself to sleep at night or had trouble getting out of bed to face the day. Breathing became easier and the searing pain of her broken heart slowly began to melt away into a dull ache every now and again. Her perpetual frown grew into a shining smile and spending time with her friends no longer caused the heartache of not being with Spike.

Months passed, football season was over, and taking with it the holidays that Buffy loved so much. The momentous occasion that was her eighteenth birthday came and went, complete with a surprise party and a mountain of gifts. Finally a young woman, her sorrows from the previous year was tucked away into the deepest corner of her heart, just as she had taken their only picture from their one and only date and hidden it in the very back of her closet in a memory box her grandmother had given her as a child. Out of sight and out of mind, all memories and keepsakes of her short lived romance were stowed away.

Over the time that she had allowed herself to heal, she spent a great deal of time with a friend from school. It had started out innocent, with quiet walks home, hesitant kisses on the cheeks and timid hand holding. By the time that graduation rolled around, the fledgling relationship with Scott Hope had developed into something more; but still, Buffy guarded her heart, soul and body. When the summer ended and they parted ways to go to their respective colleges, the relationship ended as well.

“That’s it! I refuse to drive myself totally crazy over some stupid assignment!” Buffy growled in frustration, pushing the infuriating laptop away from in front of her. Exasperatedly, she slumped down in the desk chair and glared at her best friend, Willow Rosenberg, who also happened to be her roommate for the past two years. “Did I ever thank you for coercing me to take Creative Writing with you?”

“Yes, you did, actually. You know, back when the assignments were one page instead of twenty?” Willow pulled her long auburn hair back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and snickered at Buffy. “It can’t be that bad, can it? Lemme read what you have so far.” Reaching across the study table in the library, Willow made a play for the brightly colored computer, but came up short when Buffy quickly snatched it away from her hands.

“Na-uh…no way! The amount of suckage on that screen right now is too embarrassing to even let you read it!” With a frown, Buffy tucked the notebook into her black leather satchel bag and pushed away from the table. “You might get lucky, though. If my muse doesn’t show up soon, I may have to pay you to write it for me.”

“Buffy! I wouldn’t…I mean, I couldn’t…that’d be like cheating!” Willow stammered, instantly flustered at the idea of going against the college rules.

“Calm down, Wills! I was just kidding. Sheesh!” Buffy giggled. “Come on, we’ve got class in like thirty minutes and I so need my caffeine fix before it.” With Willow in tow, they headed out of the library towards the Quad at University of California in Sunnydale; in search of double mocha lattes.

Looking over at her best friend, Buffy smiled and thought to herself that Willow was definitely one of the best things to come out of going to college. They had met on the first day of their freshman year, laden with bags they had climbed the stairs thanks to the broken elevator and made their way down the crowded hallway towards their respective rooms; which coincidentally had turned out to be the same one. Now, as juniors, they were not in the same dorm room that they had started out in, but still lived together.

Reserved, super intelligent and seriously lacking in the fashion department, often leaning towards plaid jumpers and knee socks, Willow was the total opposite of Buffy; which luckily worked in their favor, instead of against. Buffy helped pull Willow out of her shell by dragging her to fraternity parties and social dances; in exchange, Willow often helped Buffy with her studies. While Buffy often missed spending time with Cordelia, who had passed on college and decided to follow in her mother’s footsteps in Los Angeles and thus only saw one another on occasional holidays and weekend visits, the relationship with Willow seemed to be more stable and mature; which was something Buffy was pleased to have found.

Ten minutes later, cups of steaming mocha firmly clenched in their hands, they braved the cool autumn air as they headed towards the building the Creative Writing class was held on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The professor, Rupert Giles, had also played a hand in coercing Buffy in taking his class.

They had met Rupert through Anya Jenkins, Xander’s fiancée, who had recently become employed at his store, The Magic Box; which specialized in the whimsical needs and whatnots for witches and wannabe Wicca’s, or simply for the curious. His wife, Jenny, had inherited the store when the previous owner, her uncle Enyos, died four years ago. However, since Jenny was also employed by the university; specializing in software engineering, which happened to be Willow’s major, she found that she could not operate a business too, and hired Anya to manage it.

Settling down in their usual spot, second row near the aisle, Buffy and Willow waited patiently for class to begin. Always punctual, Rupert strode into the classroom precisely at one o’clock and took his place at the podium in the front of the classroom. Nearing fifty, the British born Rupert had what he once joked about as ‘rakishly handsome looks’; which often led to his classroom being overrun with hormonal, flirtatious young co-eds. Had it not been for their personal connection with the professor, both Willow and Buffy would probably be waitlisted like many others.

“Good afternoon, class. I have some rather exciting new, it seems that my sabbatical for next year has been approved.” He paused long enough to let the chatter die down. Rupert had known his class would be pleased for him, since they were aware that he had been planning to take extended leave, but was having a hard time in not only having it approved as well as finding a temporary replacement. “Yes, yes, it seems that the Dean finally grew tired of hearing my incessant pleas and signed off on the request. As you all may already know, the aspect of finding someone that both I and the Dean found suitable to fill in temporarily has been almost as daunting as getting approval for the time off. However, through some assistance offered by a good friend back in England, it seems that her nephew meets the requirements that have been decided upon.

Therefore, I have asked him to sit in from time to time in order for him to get acquainted with the lot of you, as well as become familiar with a classroom setting once again. He actually got his Master’s here in the States several years ago, but has since then spent most of his time in England working on his books. Some of you may be familiar with his work, The Twilight Chronicles?”

The room erupted in a silent roar as the students whispered amongst themselves. Buffy, who wasn’t an avid reader, was just plain confused. She was just about to turn to Willow and ask when the sharp crack of the door slamming open interrupted her.

“Oh, wonderful,” Rupert exclaimed, coming out from behind the podium. “I'm pleased that you were able to make it today. I’ve just finished informing everyone of up your impending arrival; although I wasn’t sure you would be able to join us this afternoon. Class, I would like you to meet, William Sullivan.”

“Thanks ever so much, Rupes. Although, m’ quite sure that your excitement isn’t over my arrival and much more centered around your vacation, yeah?”

At the sound of his voice, velvety smooth and roughened over the years, Buffy’s back straightened with recognition. Hands clenched on the armrests with enough force that she was sure they would break under pressure. Literally forcing her head to move, she shifted slightly to allow him to step into her line of vision, but not enough so that her face was visible from where he stood. As he walked down the stairs, she willed the tears away. They were the tears of pain, loneliness, regret and sorrow that had been bottled so tightly inside that she had often forgot they were still there. Finally, he was down there with Giles, talking amicably for a moment before turning to face his captive audience.

His hair was ever so slightly darker, no longer bleached until its golden hue bordered on harsh and tousled slightly instead of slicked back tightly. It was, actually, just the way she remembered it looking like just after they made love; just the way she like it to be. Gone was the bad boy image he so desperately clung to years ago, now replaced by a more mature man dressed in black slacks and a button down shirt the color of the Caribbean before a storm. The color caused his eyes to shine brightly; popping against the darkened background of the rarely used chalkboard.

The tears finally came, breaking ever so slightly over lush lashes as she frantically tried to will away, when his gaze brushed unnoticing over the seat where she cowered. Her body began to tremble, her stomach churned as she watched his lips move while he talked to the class, but no sound penetrated her mind. With a final charming smile, he finished his short speech and gazed around the room once again as he answered a few questions from the students who desired information about his upcoming release. Amazingly, Buffy heard the girl sitting directly behind her ask something and cringed when she realized that his line of vision would fall right upon her. When his penetrating eyes fell connected with hers, William stopped speaking; ignoring what was asked of him and just stared at Buffy. She had no idea how long they stayed that way, gazes locked, the tension causing the room to fill with a silence that was almost deafening.

She saw him move, just a slight step forward as if he intended to come right up into the desks to where she was frozen. Jerking to attention, Buffy bolted from her desk, somehow managing to grab her bag before she literally barreled from the stunned classroom.

“Miss Summers?” Rupert called after Buffy. The swinging doors clanged against one another as she tore through them. Concerned for her wellbeing, he said, “Willow? Why don’t you go after Buffy and check on her.”

“Um…yeah…ok.” Willow stammered, just as surprised by Buffy’s sudden departure. Gathering her belongings, she thought back over the day and tried to recall if she Buffy had mentioned not feeling well. Coming up with nothing, she stood up and made her way down the row of desks; only to be stopped by William.

“Rupert, I can go check on her if you want. ‘s not a problem, really. Not much use as of now anyway, right?” Spike tried to suppress his eagerness to check on the wayward student, not wanting to give way of his affections.

“Very well then, William, it would be for the best. Was just about to…” Rupert trailed off into nothingness when he was left alone, finding that William had turned and bolted out the same door that Buffy had left through. “Well Miss Rosenberg, it appears you have been relieved of your duties.”

“Oookay?” Willow replied bewildered at what had transpired so far in class. Shaking her head, she sat back down in her seat and wondered what in the hell had happened all of the sudden.

Out in the hallway, Spike rushed down the empty corridor in search of Buffy. Figuring she had escaped in the elevator, he headed down the stairs in hopes of catching her downstairs. All the while never knowing that hunkered down in a nearby empty classroom was Buffy. Her legs had refused to operate, turning instantly to jelly once she had made her dramatic exit. Through the small window in the door, her emerald green eyes, puffy from crying, had watched as her first love ran madly down the hallway to the stairway exit down at the other end.

Concerned for her friend, Willow Rosenberg did something totally out of character, something that defied everything she was, something that she had never done before. She skipped a class.

Hurrying up the two flights of stairs as quickly as possible, she burst through the door and fell into the room. “Buffy? Ok, you can come out now. I do have eyes and I can plainly see the lump underneath the comforter. So, either you are hiding or we need to call maintenance for some strange bed-lumping infestation.” Plopping down on her own bed, Willow waited patiently for Buffy to show herself. Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait to long for her blonde hair to poke out from beneath its protective cocoon. Once she was free of cover, Willow took in the puffy eyes, reddened cheeks and all together disheveled state of distress that was Buffy; she also spied the tube that was clutched in her hands. “It must be pretty bad; you broke out the cookie dough.” Clucking sympathetically, Willow crossed the little room and perched next to her sniffling best friend. “Wanna tell me about it? I mean, I did skip class to come check on you.”

“Color me shocked. Should we get Ripley’s on the phone?” Buffy replied sarcastically, even though a smile finally found its way onto her face. “So, how big of a freak did I look like in class?”

“On a scale of one to ten…I’d have to go with a twelve, maybe.” Willow rubbed her arm where Buffy had playfully smacked it and was pleased to see her joking around. “Course, you can always claim sickness, then give gory details when Giles starts asking questions.” Reaching out, she carefully plucked the nearly empty roll of raw chocolate chip dough from Buffy’s clutches and sat it on the nightstand. “Spill it. What actually caused you to flee from class and don’t say its residual fear of not finishing your paper because the darn things not due until Monday anyway. Giles pushed it back a couple days since that guy came into town, doesn’t want to spend all of his time grading papers.’

“Oh, well…at least there’s something in the good category for the day.” Buffy replied wryly as she picked imaginary lint off of her blanket. “That guy, William. Er…well, he’s kinda the problem.”

“Yes, I could see how drop dead gorgeous could be a problem for you.” At Buffy’s shocked expression, she added, “What? I’m gay, not blind!”

“True enough. He is pretty hot, huh?” Dropping the blanket, Buffy chewed on her nails in anxiety; a terrible habit that she had tried to break over the years and had almost succeeded until today. “Hearing him called William threw me off; you see I know him as Spike. He…um…was my first…well, everything. First real kiss, first romantic date, and first guy to give me roses, first sexual thingy and first…love; and…and, I haven’t seen him in a little over three years. Seeing him today was just too much, I had to get outta there.”

“Oh, Buffy, of course you did. I just couldn’t imagine what you must have been going through. I mean, three years ago is a long time, but he was your first and you never forget them, no matter how hard you try.” Willow wrapped her arms around Buffy and rode out the next wave of tears as she cried on her shoulder. When the sobs started to desist, Willow asked, “Do you want to tell me about what happened between you guys?”

“I don’t know, really. It’s like a really long and complicated story and honestly, I’m afraid of what you might think of me afterwards.” Leaning back, Buffy grabbed the box of tissues off the windowsill and wiped at her runny nose.

“Hey now! There will be no judging. No sir, totally open-minded Willow at your service.” By the time Buffy finished her story, Willow was slack jawed with amazement. “Holy cow, I figured it would be chock full of drama, but…wow.” Silence fell over the room as Willow appeared to be lost in thought; her face scrunched slightly in an all too familiar expression that Buffy had come to know as her ‘thinking face’. “Oh my goddess!” She whispered as whatever she was mentally searching for finally hit her. Jumping off the bed, she fell to the floor and started digging around under her bed; where she triumphantly produced a well-worn book from a hidden container. Showing it to Buffy, she exclaimed, “You’re her! I so can’t believe it. You are totally Elizabeth!”

“Um, ok…Huh?” Buffy asked, reaching out to take the book from Willow’s hands as she bounced slightly from excitement. Looking down at the frayed book cover, she found that what she was holding was Spike’s book; the one that Rupert had been talking about in class, the Twilight Chronicles.

“He wrote about you, Buffy! Changed the names of course, but the story is pretty much the same. Well, except the part about the main guy in it is a vampire. Of course, that could be his way of symbolizing how he preyed on you since you were a virgin and so much younger than him, right?”

“Again with the, huh?” Buffy asked again, dazed by what Willow was implying. Did Spike really think enough about her over the years to have written a book about their relationship? If he did, what did that mean? “I’ve never read this, ‘splainy please?”

“You so have to read it now! Really, you’re going to blow off your classes the rest of the day anyway, right?” Buffy’s snort and expression had no problem conveying her feelings of reading to Willow. “Fine, but it’s only the Cliff notes version. Or, rather the Willow notes version! See, Christian Cain is this main guy, who’s been a vampire for around two hundred years or something like that. Anyway, he’s searched for his true love that entire time with no avail. Then, he finds her in while she’s spending her summer vacation abroad and he falls madly in love with her despite the fact she’s teenager and follows her back to the States only to be broken up by the problems that arise there. See, Elizabeth is a called to be a Slayer, which means she’s predestined to kill his kind. It’s all terribly romantic. At the end of this book, wait…no, I’m not telling you, that way you have to read it.”

“You’re evil, but you already know that.” With the book still firmly grasped in her hand, Buffy crawled back under the covers and looked at Willow. “Don’t you have a class in like twenty minutes?” While her roommate raced around the room in search of her shoes, Buffy grabbed the roll of dough and settled back against the pillow; prepared to satisfy her depression with more chocolate and read Spike’s book.


After class, Willow decided to head downtown to Buffy’s favorite deli and pick up something more substantial to eat than raw cookie dough; figuring that her friend had probably not moved from the bed since she had left for class. Pushing open the glass door, causing the bell to announce her arrival, Willow stood in front of the register and waited for assistance while she pondered what she wanted to eat.

“It’s Miss Rosenberg, right?” Someone asked from behind Willow in a deep, British accent; startling her. Turning around, she was face to face with the man that she had spent the better part of the day talking about. “Um, yeah, that’s me. Willow. I mean, call me Willow. The other just sounds like my mom.”

“Right, then. Well, Willow, I saw you in here and wanted to ask about your friend. Is she all right?” Spike shuffled back and forth nervously as he waited for her answer.

“She’s fine, or as fine as you can be after eating a pound of dough. Oh and you can drop the act, I already know about the two of you.” Willow smiled at his shocked expression and thought, ’This guy is man-beautiful. Way better than…’ Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard him saying something, embarrassed she had to ask him to repeat himself.

“I was wondering what you knew, about me and Buffy exactly. What I’m asking is, ya’ know, wha’d she say about me?” He grinned sheepishly and all of the sudden felt like a blushing schoolboy.

“Yeah, pretty sure that there’s some kind of friend’s code of ethics that would strictly prohibit me telling you anything that Buffy said when I got home. I can say, however, that she’s not sick. Well, might be unless I bring her something other than pure sugar to eat for dinner.”

“So, you…uh…she told you about us?”

“To say the least,” Willow replied with a knowing smile. Sensing that he was truly worried about Buffy’s well-being, she reached out and touched him lightly on the arm. “She’ll be ok, just needs some time to recover from the shock of seeing you again after so long.”

“I can imagine. Um…I honestly didn’t know that she was going to school here. Last I was told she had gone away to college. I never meant to…upset Buffy.” Itching for a smoke, he dug around in his pocket and produced a pack of cigarettes; but Willow cleared her throat and pointed to a sign behind him. Turning around, Spike groaned when he spotted the no smoking sign and shoved the pack back into his pants. “Bloody well figures.”

Willow moved towards the counter and placed an order for two turkey sandwiches before turning her attention back to Spike, who amazingly looked even more crestfallen than he had when he had first approached her. Chewing her lip nervously, the wheels in Willow’s brain churned away. Biting the bullet, she said, “I think you should go to the Bronze tomorrow night, you know…for the Halloween party. Being new here and all, it would probably be a good thing to do.” Paying for the meal, Willow shoved the change into her pocket and headed for the door; where she paused and glanced over her shoulder at Spike. “You get my drift, right?”

“Yeah, Red, I hear what you’re saying. New guy in town needs to go out and mingle.” Smiling, he walked over to her and leaned over to hold open the door.

“Good, but whatever you do, do not tell Buffy that it was me that told you about the party. Don’t need her pissed at me, too.”

Promising to keep her secret safe, Spike perched on a nearby bench for a smoke and watched as Buffy’s friend disappeared from his sight. From the direction Willow was heading, he surmised that she and Buffy more than likely lived on campus and briefly contemplated following her home. Deciding against going in to full stalker mode, he snuffed out his cigarette, tossed it into a nearby trash can and headed to his car that was parked in the opposite direction.

Once he got home, Spike rummaged around in the fridge for a beer and chugged half of it down before flopping down on the couch with a dejected sigh. His mind was still reeling from the day’s events as he replayed the moment where their eyes had connected in the crowded classroom. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room making it very difficult to breathe, the classroom melted away until the only thing he was aware of was her.

Buffy was still beautiful; there was no question about that, the years had allowed her features to mature and become rounded in just the right places. Just the mental image of her perfectly curved ass hidden away beneath a pair of tight indigo blue jeans had his cock straining against his own pants. While there hadn’t been anything wrong with Buffy’s posterior before, it was downright luscious now. Of course, the rest of her was quite spectacular as well. The once long honey blonde locks had been sheared so that they now fell just below her shoulders; and a hint of platinum was woven through streaking the stands with light.

Spike closed his eyes and thought back to their weekend together, recalled the tinkle of laughter as he tickled her madly, the rosy hue that flushed her body as his lips flittered across the golden skin, and how she had grimaced when he praised her small, yet perfectly globed breasts as his tongue flicked across the turgid nipples; claiming they were too small and made her look like a little girl. Spike smiled as he pictured her in his mind and thought that Buffy must feel pretty good about herself now a day since her breasts definitely didn’t belong on a little girl’s body. Tucked away behind a form fitting black sweater, the swell of her breasts called to him; begging to be treated as they had been so many years ago.

Realizing that reminiscing over Buffy wasn’t going to get him anything other than the raging hard on he was already sporting, Spike tilted the bottle back and drained out the last dregs of beer then pushed off the couch and headed into the kitchen for another beer before he went to his bedroom to do something constructive, find something to wear for the costume party; which would take a while since most of his clothing was still tucked away in boxes. With a groan, he took a sip of beer and decided to go ahead and unpack; glancing around the room, he decided it was going to be a long night.


The next afternoon, after a series of grueling classes that had included one horrendous test and the most boring lecture in the history of lectures, Buffy was finally able to concentrate on getting ready for the Halloween party. With rollers in her hair and dressed only in her undergarment; which for the night consisted of white thigh highs, delicate white underpants with a frilly lace bottom and a matching lace corset. Laid out on her bed was the costume she had painstakingly pieced together, a red and white gingham dress with a lace petticoat, both of which barely brushed the tops of her thighs, a long red satin cape and black patent leather Mary Jane’s. All put together with a dainty basket and Buffy felt she would make one hell of a Little Red Riding Hood.

“Hey Buff!” Willow announced as she closed the bedroom door, costume in hand. “So, you ready for tonight? Girl’s night out! WooHoo!”

“Yeah, but how is it fair that since it’s GNO that you still get to bring a date? Kinda not fair if you ask me.” Stepping away from the mirror, Buffy picked up the dress and slid it carefully over her head as to not disturb the rollers.

“See, that’s just one of the perks of being a lesbian. Do you still want to go tonight?” Willow motioned for Buffy to turn around so that she could help her get the dress zipped up. “Could this be any tighter?”

“Thanks, and yes…I want to go out tonight, even if I have to be the third wheel. This is like the one night in the past month that I get to go out alone, well, not alone…just not with Riley and I’m not wasting it. I just want to go out dressed like a slutty storybook character and dance until I can no longer feel my feet, is that such a bad thing?” Flopping down on the bed, she started pulling on her shoes and eyeballed Willow who was still dressed in her regular clothes.

“You know I wasn’t talking about Riley, Buffy. Why would I, when yesterday’s surprise is so much better?”

“We are so not talking about Spike. It’s off the table for discussion, at least until I figure out what in the hell to do about him all of the sudden popping back into my life.” Growling in frustration, Buffy stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Now get dressed! No more talky about Spikey, ok?”

“Fine, but you’re gonna have to eventually.” Feigning defeat, Willow quickly put on her Joan of Arc costume and suffered through the huffs and puffs coming from Buffy as she pouted about Spike. “Tara’s going to meet us there and is more than likely standing around outside looking awkward because we’re already running late; we’d better skedaddle.” Once she finished buckling the last clasp on her belt, Willow held out her hand and said, “Off we go, then!”

“I’m so excited! Halloween is totally my absolute fave holiday. We’re just going to have the bestest time, I just know it!” Buffy exclaimed as Willow just grinned and thought, Oh, you just don’t have a clue how much fun you’re gonna have, Buffy!

Hanging back in the shadows, Spike watched Buffy dance seductively; shining like a beacon in the midst of pulsating lights and the gyrating bodies that surrounded her. Too nervous to approach her, he hung back and sipped liquid courage in the form of whiskey and waited for the prefect moment to descend.

Dressed in black from head to toe, he felt more like his old self tonight than the respectable adult that he had morphed into over the years. When he had stumbled upon the well-worn black leather duster late into the evening the night before, nostalgia had swirled through him like a lover’s embrace; warm and comforting with just a trace of seduction.

The past three years had been a whirlwind of change for Spike. Just over half a year had been spent in Los Angeles, shacking up in a friend’s spare bedroom while he threw himself into finishing his Master’s degree before he realized that his life wasn’t going to end up on the path he had chosen; knew that he would forever spend his nights alone with only the memory of Buffy to hold on to. One night, in a drunken haze as he stumbled out of the pub, he had decided it was time to move on; get on with his life and truly see what the world had to offer.

For nearly a year, not a day passed when the only thing that could erase her lovely face from his mind was alcohol, and lots of it, combined with anything else he could get his hands on to numb the pain that tended to sear his heart. Pub after pub, country after country, Spike had stumbled his way through life; never allowing himself to feel anything that might remind him of the love he had willingly left behind. Eventually, no amount of alcohol could cause the pain to subside and that had led him down a road of nameless women that woke up alone in the morning. As degrading as his life had become, it had been what had saved him in the end. Spike’s savior had come in the form of a woman, pale as the moonlight with fountains of gleaming black hair that spilled down her back and hauntingly dark eyes full of understanding and compassion. After spending barely a month with Drusilla, his life had been given new meaning and hope. She urged him to follow his passions, to pour his desires into his writing and let that be his guide back to the life that he craved. After one last embrace at the airport, she had cryptically promised that the sunshine would flood his life once again, that it had never really left him; her words still confused him to this day.

It was shortly after leaving her that he had buried himself in his work. Only venturing out of his darkened flat in London for food and cigarettes during the eight months of torment it had taken to finish his book. Looking back now, he often laughed at what his editor had thought when he had first met with him. Hair in disarray, long and in bad need of a trim, dark roots giving way to faded blonde locks, eyes ringed with shadows and his once sculpted frame gaunt from the wasteful life he had subjected himself to.

Now, his life was perfect…almost. The one thing that it lacked was currently in his sights and his courage was finally up to the point he needed to make a move. Oblivious to anything or anyone around him, Spike jumped when someone lightly grabbed his arm.

“Bloody Hell, Red!” He muttered, reaching inside his coat pocket for a cigarette to calm his nerves. “Give a bloke a sodding heart attack why don’t you.”

“You’ve been up here for like ever, plan on making your move anytime soon? Or were you just planning on wooing Buffy telepathically?” Willow asked, folding her arms across her chest and giving Spike a stern look. When he opened his mouth in attempts to argue with her, she said, “Just go, will ya?! See this…it’s my Resolve face and it’s fried bigger fish than you, Bucko. I’ll drag you down there myself if I have to.”

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he grumbled, “Don’t get your bleeding knickers in a not, Red. I’m going, yeah?” Spike made his way down the stairs towards the booth where the DJ was concealed; where he made a request, leaned against the railing and hoped his plan would work.

Sure enough, when the music slowed and couples paired off, Buffy stood awkwardly near the edge of the dance floor unsure of what to do next. Before any other guy could swoop in and claim his prize, Spike sauntered up behind an unsuspecting Buffy and pulled her back against him. “Fancy a dance, luv?”

Surprised, Buffy jumped and pulled away from his hold. “I…uh…I…” She stammered, mentally kicking herself for acting like such a brainless twit in the presence of Spike as she stood motionless like a deer caught in headlights. When he stepped forward and took her in his arms once again, she didn't resist; allowing his arms to wrap around her, one hand pressed securely against the small of her back. Staring up into his eyes, she felt her knees weaken in a way that was oddly familiar, but hadn't been done since he had left her years ago. Her mind briefly flashed back to the last time they saw one another, the feeling of despair that had ballooned in her chest and panic began to bubble within causing her body to instantly tense up.

“Easy…’s just a dance, kitten.” Spike murmured. Their gazes were still locked and the tension he felt eased when the hard glint left from her eyes. Smiling lightly, he reached out and tucked a stray tendril behind her ear before pulling her closer against his body. “God you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

Not sure of what to say at the moment, Buffy blurted out, “Costume! I…mean…you aren't wearing one.” Blushing profusely at her immense stupidity, Buffy ducked her head and avoided the smirk on Spike’s face.

“Course I am, luv.” He chuckled at the obvious embarrassment rolling off Buffy in waves. Reaching into the pocket that held his cigarettes, he grabbed hold of the object he desired and pulled it out; showing it to her with a triumphant smile. “See?!”

“A vampire? How original, course at first I thought you were trying to be that guy in the Matrix. What’s his name? Keanu Reeves played it.” Buffy felt her heart rate speed up when Spike growled at her in annoyance and realized that he still had the same effect on her whether she wanted him to or not.

“‘m not some poncy computer geek called Neo, kitten. ‘m the Big Bad which if I remember my storybook fables correctly means I get to eat you right up.” Curling his tongue behind his upper lip, Spike leered down at Buffy and felt himself harden with desire at the lust that filled her luminous emerald eyes.

“Hmph, you’re wrong. It’s the wolf that stalks Little Red Riding Hood, not a vampire.” Buffy corrected him with a playful smirk. Cocking her head slightly to the left, she motioned to a guy near the bar that was covered in fur. “Guess that’s the lucky guy that gets me all to himself tonight.”

“Not bloody likely.” Spike growled possessively as he shoved the plastic fangs back into his pocket and wrapped both arms around her tiny waist. “You’re with me, luv.”

Overwhelmed with being in his arms again, combined with the intoxicatingly sexy scent that was causing her mind to cloud with desire was basically caused all of Buffy’s sensibilities to fly right out the window. Melting against Spike, she perched her head on his shoulder and allowed the music to take control; their bodies swaying in perfect tune to one another, oblivious to the surroundings. She had no idea how long they stayed out there, but was jerked back into reality when a meaty hand clamped down around her bicep and twisted her out of Spike’s hold.

“Riley!” She cried out in shock. Sensing that Spike was about to do something that she would most definitely regret later, Buffy held her hand out to stop his descent and said, “It’s ok, Spike. I’ve…um, gotta go for a little bit.” Not bothering for a response, Buffy stalked off the dance floor with Riley in tow. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going out with the guys tonight? Big pledge thing or something.”

“I come by here to surprise my fiancé and find her practically giving some guy a lap dance, and I’m the one that gets the third degree? Who the hell was that, Buffy?” Riley ranted with barely controlled rage.

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong, just dancing. What’s the big deal?” Irritated not only with herself for allowing things to progress with Spike, but for being surprised by Riley on what was supposed to be a night out with their respective friends. Suppressing her annoyance, knowing that he just wanted to be nice, Buffy looked up at Riley and said, “He’s an old…friend, Ri. It’s nothing. Thank you for coming by, it’s sweet…really, but tonight’s supposed to be friend night. We need to spend time apart, out with other people every once in a while or I’m afraid we’ll just smother one another.”

“I just missed you, babe. Sorry for bothering you.” Riley pouted, instantly turning up the guilt dial to make Buffy feel even worse. “How about you do something with your friends another night and come home with me?” He suggested, trying to pull her into his massive arms.

“That’s not a good idea. Just go home, Riley.” Buffy struggled to get her small frame away from the hulking mass that was her fiancé; finally managing to get her point across and be released. “I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?”

“Yeah, whatever…maybe we can do something then. I love you.” Conceding, Riley dropped his arms and leaned in for a kiss; disappointed when Buffy turned her head and the sentiment fell upon her cheek instead.

“Um, yeah…me, too. Have fun tonight, ok?” Feeling lower than low, Buffy hurried off in the direction of the women’s bathroom, a place that her stodgy fiancé wouldn’t follow her into. Just as she was about to disappear inside, Spike stepped in front of her. Not wanting to deal with him at the moment, she pushed him aside and said, “Not right now, Spike. I just…can’t deal with you at the moment.”

Dejected, Spike dropped his shoulders in defeat and headed back to the front of the club to take care of his tab before calling it a night. His plans were halted when Willow appeared in front of him with another woman with honey colored locks and a shy smile dressed in layers of frilly material.

“Where do you think you are going?” Willow demanded as she hauled Spike away from the entrance.

“Believe I just got shot down, Red. No sense staying for a second rejection.”

“Did she actually tell you to leave?” Willow’s demeanor softened at Spike’s answer and a smile spread across her face. “See? She wants you here, because she told Riley to take a hike for the night. So you should stay, be cool and hang back for a bit, then make another move.”

“Willow, sweetie, if he w-w-wants to leave…” The other girl stammered softly, reaching out to lightly stroke Willow’s arm. “Maybe you should let him.”

“But, Tara, he doesn’t really want to leave. Do you, Spike?” Willow challenged, whipping her head back around to Spike.

“I’ll stay, but only for a bit longer, Red. Thanks for the help, Glinda.” Spike said, deciding to use Tara’s choice in costume as the Glinda the Good Witch as a nickname. Stalking back to the bar, he slumped down on a stool and ordered another drink; intent on sulking for the remainder of the evening.

It was nearly an hour later before he saw Buffy again, this time she was stumbling in his direction attached at the hip to another guy. Livid, Spike stood up so quickly that his stool clattered to the ground. “Buffy!”

“Oh, hey Spikey!” Buffy slurred as she wobbled side to side drunkenly. “I thought you had left me again and I was very sad!” Stepping towards him, she tripped over her own feet and fell into his arms; her drink sloshing over the rim of the cup and spilling down the front of her checkered dress, leaving a dark stain.

“Ok, tha’s about enough for you tonight, kitten.” Spike informed Buffy, who upon further inspection was now passed out in his arms. Sighing, he swung her legs upwards and grasped hold of her tightly; weaving through the crowd as he made his way to the front door.

Snuggled beneath a heavy comforter, Buffy groaned as the harsh morning light burst through the windows and landed directly where she was trying to sleep. As she was rudely pulled from a deep sleep, her head began to pound incessantly and every bone in her body ached mercilessly. Fighting back the urge to throw up, she forced her eyes open and glanced at her surroundings in horror. She groaned, tears pooling in her eyes and fright muddling her brain. Where was she? The room wasn’t familiar and even though she tried, Buffy was unable to remember much about the night before; much less when and who she had left the Bronze with.

“Oh God, what have I done?”

Head buried in her hands, Buffy choked back the tears that were bubbling just below the surface. Only mildly relieved to have found she was at least wearing clothes, a black t-shirt and the frilly undies she had worn the night before, the fact that she had woken up in a strangers bed had brought on a serious case of panic. “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God, what did I do?” Too wrapped up in despair, she never noticed the motion near the bedroom door.

“Nothing to worry about, kitten,” Spike drawled from the doorway; a smirk plastered across his face. “Your virtue’s still intact.”

“Spike! What…what are you doing here?” Buffy cried in surprise, and then crinkled her nose as the obvious answer came to mind. “Your house, your bed…and I take it, your shirt, right?”

“Correct on all counts.” Smiling, he crossed the room and held out a peace offering in the form of water and aspirin. “Figured you might be needing something to take the edge of the hangover.”

“A world of yes.” She replied gratefully, chugging down the entire contents in one long gulp. Sheepishly, Buffy grinned and handed the empty glass back to Spike. “Thanks, I’m about ninety-nine percent parched.”

“Not a problem, I’ll go get you some more, yeah?” He turned to leave the bedside, but was stopped when Buffy’s tiny hand encircled his wrist. “What is it, pet?” Spike asked as her eyes filled with uncertainty and shimmered with tears.

“We…um, didn’t…you know?” She asked timidly, nibbling on her bottom lip. Anxiety curdled in her stomach like milk that had long passed its expiration date. At his bemused expression, her nervousness turned to annoyance with a blink of the eye. “No laughing! I’m being serious here. Girl wakes up in strange bed not wearing what she originally had on; it’s a perfectly reasonable question---stop snickering at me, Spike!”

“I promise nothing happened last night, settle down. Perfect gentleman, I was.” Spike assured her before heading out the door. Turning back, he smirked and said, “Plus, if we did, you’d remember it, luv.”

“Ugh, we’re you always this conceited?” Buffy groaned, flopping back onto the bed as he disappeared down the hallway with a resounding laugh. ‘Ok, not so bad. We didn’t do anything. Then why do I feel about an inch tall?’ She lay there, unmoving and staring at the ceiling as if the answer to her question was going to suddenly scrawl itself through the white vastness.

“Here you go, pet.” Spike thrust the glass of cold water in front of her face, interrupting her thoughts. “I put some clothes in the bathroom, thought you might want to shower; although they will probably be a bit big on you though. Why don’t you freshen up and I’ll make breakfast?”

“A shower sounds great; I’m all icky with the bar funk.” Sipping the refreshing cold water, Buffy slid off the bed and headed to the bathroom; stopping just inside the dark green tiled bathroom. “Nothing happened, right? No nakedness or kissage?”

“Like I said, perfect gentleman, pet. Course, I did have to get you out of that rather complicated get-up you were wearing, saw a bit then I guess. Have to say, filled out rather nicely.” An image of her creamy white breasts and smooth, flat stomach flashed through his mind and Spike had to force himself not to groan; instead, covering up the sound that did escape with a good natured chuckle when Buffy’s jaw dropped open in disbelief, her face blushing bright pink. “You spilled that horrible pink concoction down the front, luv. Didn’t think you’d want to sleep with it being all wet. So, I got you into something a bit more comfortable and put your dress and corset thing into the wash so the stain won’t set. Innocent enough for you, kitten?”

Nodding her head, Buffy disappeared into the bathroom with not only her face flushed with embarrassment, but the rest of her body as well. Turning on the shower and undressing, she tried to convince her mind that the only reason she was blushing was due to the awkward situation of finding out Spike had seen her at least partially naked. However, the naughty side of her brain was screaming that knowing she had been unclothed in his presence was a huge turn-on.

Thinking of such things automatically caused what had to be residual feelings from their encounter years ago to flare up. Her body felt like it was on the verge of overheating, heart racing and thighs clenched together in attempts to quell the intense aching at her apex that demanded to be relieved. Growling in frustration, she threw back the shower curtain and stepped under the too hot water with a squeak of surprise. Banishing any thoughts of a naked Spike to the darkest corner of her mind, Buffy grabbed the bar of soap and began to scrub away any traces of bar sludge from her body.

A short while later, dressed in another black t-shirt and gray track pants that had to be rolled up at the waist several times in order to keep the hemline off the floor, Buffy emerged in the kitchen inhaling the scrumptious scents that wafted through the brightly colored room. “Mmm…what are you cooking? It smells super good.”

“Strawberry-almond pancakes and bacon, that just happens to be ready. Good timing, luv.” Platting the meal on two plates, Spike set one in front of Buffy and tucked into the other himself.

“Mphfhmruphfu.” Buffy muttered incoherently, suddenly overcome with hunger. Forgetting all table manners, she cleared her plate in a matter of minutes and eyeballed the last piece of bacon on Spike’s plate. Before he could rescue the slice of meat, Buffy’s hand shot across the table and crammed the salty bacon in her mouth with a groan of satisfaction. “Yummy.” She sighed, leaning back against the chair with a smile of contentment. “That was great, Spike. You’ve been really great…”

“But?” Spike interjected after her brief pause. “I know there’s more, luv, might as well get it out there, yeah?”

“But, I really need to get home.” She finished as he got up from the table and cleared away the dishes. “Why didn’t you take me there last night anyway?”

“Didn’t think you’d fancy being carried through the dorm passed out in my arms” He stated, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “But, that wasn’t really what you wanted to ask, now was it, kitten.”

“Ok, stop it with all the pet names, Spike!” She cried exasperatedly, pushing out of the chair and escaping to the living room; only to be followed by Spike. Turning on him, she sighed in frustration. “I’m not your love or your pet kitten or anything! We aren’t anything, Spike. That’s what you wanted! You left me, remember? Why’d you have to come back?” Crying in earnest now, tears slipped down her reddened cheeks as she gasped for air. “I was doing fine without you, finally. Why’d you come back? Why? Can’t you just leave me alone? That’s what you do best, isn’t it…leave? I can’t get over you again. I just can’t!”

“Is that what you think, Buffy? That I just left you?” Spike whispered, his voice roughened with emotion. He watched as she nodded and slid down onto the floor in tears, as if her body had to collapse; unable to take the pain. “She never told you, did she?”

“W-who?” Buffy gasped, wiping furiously at the tears on her cheeks that were dripping down onto the black shirt. “Told me what?”

“I think it would be best not to say anything else, you wouldn’t believe me anyway.” Spike’s chest heaved as anger bubbled inside his chest, combined with the heartache and misery that had filled his life since the day he had left Buffy crying in her bedroom. “You need to ask your mother. Come on, I’ll take you home. Get some rest, talk to Joyce. Once you get all the facts, you know where to find me.”

“Buffy! What a surprise, sweetie,” Joyce Summers gushed as she pulled her daughter tightly against her chest in a heartfelt bear hug. While she was enormously proud of Buffy for earning a partial scholarship that allowed them to be able to afford a major university instead of community college, being alone in the house was still a difficult task to bear. “I wasn’t expecting you until closer to next weekend. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Mom.” Buffy mumbled against her mother’s chest, arms lying stiff next to her body. Pulling away, she swiped at her eyes which refused to stop watering and said, “We need to talk.”

“Oh, I know! We still have a lot to finish before the engagement party, not to mention planning what has turned out to be a not so little wedding in the spring.” Oblivious to Buffy’s watery eyes and sullen demeanor, Joyce walked over to the dining room table where a large cardboard box was perched. “The fabric samples we ordered for the bridesmaids dresses came in this morning. It really is beautiful.”

“I really don’t feel like discussing the wedding or party...or anything to do with the whole fiasco right now, Mom.” The tone of her voice finally grasped Joyce, who dropped the ice blue satin and turned to Buffy with worried eyes. “I came to talk about Spike.”

“What on earth brought him up? I thought you had finally moved past all that nonsense, Buffy.” Frowning, Joyce sat down at the head of the table and idly picked at the stitching on the tablecloth; a nervous habit that didn’t escape Buffy’s notice.

Plopping down into a chair next to Joyce, Buffy forced her mother to meet her stare and asked, “He told me to ask you...about him. It was all pretty cryptic, really. Said I wouldn’t believe him if he told me, that it had to come from you. What’s he talking about, Mom?”

“I was going to tell you, someday. It was just so hard for you to get over Spike and you were finally happy, sweetheart.” Reaching across the space between them, Joyce grasped her daughter’s hand and looked at her pleadingly. “Can’t you just let him go once and for all? Riley is such a wonderful young man and he loves you so much.”

“This has nothing to do with Riley!” Buffy yanked her hand out from beneath her mother’s, crossing her arms tightly across her chest in a protective manner. With a steely glare, she ground out, “What is he talking about. Just...tell...me, please.”

“He came by to see me while you were at school, it was your first day as a senior, and he felt that it would be better for the two of us to discuss what had...happened between the two of you, alone. I asked him to leave, Buffy. It was for your own good, don’t you see?”

“Why? What did he ever do to deserve that, Mom?” Pushing out of the chair, Buffy paced the room; fist clenched. Something clicked in the back of her mind, a memory of coffee mugs on the kitchen counter when she had gotten home from school. “He had just left, hadn’t he? God, Mom! All he did was love me; want to be with me. Was that so terrible?”

“Oh, right! Just like he loved Evangeline, too?” Joyce cried as an angry flush crept up her neck as she tried to control her anger. “He was too old for you and already in a relationship with someone very important to you. Did you honestly expect someone like him to stay with you? Of course not! He’s older and much more experienced, Spike would have just moved on to the next conquest when he got bored!” Exasperated with the conversation, Joyce threw up her hands. “I only did what was best for you.”

“It’s my life, Mom! It should have been my decision; to decide what’s best for me!” Hands on her hips, Buffy stood by the window and stared out at the children playing in the street, the elderly man from next door walking his dog, and wished she could be out there, happily avoiding this conversation. Taking a deep breath, she calmly asked, “Couldn’t you have just come to me? All of us could’ve sat down and tried to work out some type of situation?”

“I was saving you from heartache. I did what I thought was the best course of action for you at the time. If I had to do it over, Buffy...well, I wouldn’t change what I did.” Standing up, Joyce crossed the room and stood next to her daughter; tentatively reaching out and touching her forearm. “That day, while you were at school, Spike agreed to the terms I had set out for whatever relationship might have occurred between the two of you. He was to wait until you were eighteen, then we could go from there; but I didn’t want him dating my underage daughter.”

“But he didn’t even come back, Mom.” Eyes sparkling with unshed tears, Buffy turned to face her mom and whispered, “Why didn’t he want me?” Allowing her mom to pull her into a comforting hug, Buffy was shocked by what Joyce said next.

“He did want you, sweetie. He did.” Pulling back enough to look down into Buffy’s shimmering eyes, Joyce sighed deeply before spilling the secret that would surely break her daughter’s heart even more. “Spike came back on your birthday.”

Her birthday, the day she legally became a woman even though Spike had made her one long before that day. The day when she finally allowed her heart to heal, to recover from the despair and heartache she had suffered since he had left. The day she had accepted Scott Hope’s last minute date proposal; where they had attended the Winter Ball at the Bronze, where she had laughed and danced with abandon, finally content. Buffy’s shoulders slumped as the realization settled in. Spike had returned to her on the day she had truly set him free.

“Why didn’t he talk to me then?” Buffy asked quietly, her eyes clouded with pain and confusion as she stepped away from her mother. “Why just leave and not say anything to me at all?”

“Spike arrived shortly before you left for the dance, Buffy.” Joyce admitted painfully, knowing that the trust between her and Buffy would be brittle, if not broken after her confession. Seeing her daughter’s expression change from disbelief to anger broke Joyce’s heart. “You were upstairs, finishing you hair and makeup, when he got here. We talked, I made it clear how unhappy you had been since he had left and that you were finally moving on with your life. God, he was so upset with me for not telling you that he would wait for your birthday, but honestly, I thought he would move on long before then.

“Then Scott showed up and I came into the foyer to take pictures and see you off, you looked so beautiful that night and in such high spirits, sweetie…I just couldn’t ruin your night by telling you he was there; to risk sending you back to that dark place you had gone to for so many months.” Pausing to wipe at her eyes, Joyce reached out to Buffy in hopes that her daughter would forgive her for her mistakes; only to feel her heart rip when Buffy shied away from her attempt. “He was gone when I got back to the kitchen. That was the last time I ever saw him.”

Unable to hold the tears at bay any longer, Buffy crumbled to the floor in tears; not knowing what to say to her mother. Her body shook with heart wrenching sobs, and she never noticed that her mom had disappeared; Buffy was surprised when Joyce sat down next to her with an old gift bag that was covered in balloons. “I think it’s time you had these.”

Curious, Buffy wiped her eyes on the sleeve of the cream colored sweater before looking into the bag. Inside she found a small bundle of envelopes, a stuffed pig with a pink bow and a slim, velvet colored jewelry box. “What’s all this?”

“I saved everything he sent you over the years. I swear I never saw him again, sweetheart, but he occasionally sent presents and cards for holidays. He never forgot you.” Ashamed that she had kept secrets from her daughter, Joyce wiped her eyes free of tears. “The cards are from birthdays and other occasions, the pig was from a Valentine’s Day, and the small box was from your eighteenth birthday.”

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” she breathed once the case was opened. Inside was a silver heart shaped charm dangling from a slender silver chain. Peering closely at the charm, she read, “Always in my heart.” Pushing her hair out of the way, she clasped the necklace and realized that something was missing. “Oh, no! It’s gone!” The chain that normally graced her slender neckline was no longer there; more importantly, the emerald cut diamond ring that dangled between her breasts was gone, as well. “My ring!”

“Don’t get upset, sweetie.” Joyce comforted, “It’s probably in your dorm room. When was the last time you saw it.”

“Last night. At the club, I wore it last night.” Dread filled her stomach. Scrambling to her feet, Buffy grabbed the gift bag and hurried out of the dining room. “I have to go, Mom!”

“Buffy, wait!” Joyce cried, hurrying to catch up with her daughter. When Buffy stopped, hand on the doorknob poised to leave, she asked, “Are we going to be all right? Can you forgive me?”

“Eventually, I guess. I understand why you did all of that, Mom, but I don’t know if I can forgive you just yet. I need some time, well…a lot of time, really, to sort out everything that’s happened over the past couple of days.” Not waiting for a reply, Buffy disappeared out the front door and climbed into the hand me down Jeep she had inherited after graduation.


Several hours later, Buffy sat cross legged on her bed staring off into space; a pair of stuffed pigs perched on her lap, Mr. Gordo finally had himself a playmate. When she had left her mother’s house, she had had every intention of going straight to Spike’s house and getting her engagement ring; but when she realized that asking for said ring would lead to questions she wasn’t ready to answer, Buffy had turned around and headed home. Fingering the one picture she had of the two of them, her mind wandered over everything her mother had confessed to; feeling sick to her stomach that Spike had been so close to her at one point. Antsy and on the edge of going stir crazy, Buffy pushed off the bed, sending all of her Spike memorabilia flying, she scribbled a note to Willow and headed out of the dorm.


Night had already fallen when a light drizzle shook Buffy from her mindless wandering. Glancing at the nearest street sign, she was surprised at where her feet had taken her on the long journey and took that as a sign that this was where she needed to be. Shuffling through the increasingly heavy rain, she boldly tromped through the yard and rang the doorbell. Buffy had just about lost the burst of confidence, preparing to turn and run, when the door opened and he was inches away from her. She stood there shaking in the cool weather, her clothes soaked through and chilling her to the bone; utterly amazed that the tears she had thought had long gone started back up again and were mixing in with the rain pelting down on her head.

“Buffy! God, pet, you’re bloody soaked to the bone.” Spike exclaimed, pulling her trembling form inside. “You know, kitten…there’s this brilliant invention called an umbrella, you should see about getting one; seems like you have a tendency to wander around in the rain.”

“I…I…d-d-don’t k-k-know why I’m here,” Buffy managed to get out, her teeth chattering loudly. “J-j-just sorta ended up h-h-here.”

Silence filled the room as Spike wordlessly placed a blanket around her shoulders and rubbed his hands vigorously against her arms in attempts to warm her. In all honesty, he didn't know what to say to her. Judging from her pained expression as she stared up into his face, Spike figured she had went to see her mother and undoubtedly knew what had transpired so many years before. Opening his mouth, Spike quickly shut it when he couldn't force any words to come out and was thrown off balance when his lips were suddenly covered by Buffy’s; still cool from being out in the chilly night air. All reasonable thought left his mind, pulling her shivering frame against his body and kissing her with all the pent up emotions that had been with him for the past three years.

The room seemed to spin as their embrace deepened, the blanket slipped to the floor, soon to be followed by her damp sweater just before Spike’s hands cupped beneath her ass; pulling Buffy tightly against him. Lowering his hands, Spike tightly wrapped them around Buffy’s thighs and pulled them up to wrap around his waist; groaning deeply when she strengthened her hold around him, rubbing her core against his already straining erection. Knowing that they needed to talk before things were rapidly spiraling out of control, Spike broke away from the kiss, resting his forehead gently against hers. “Buffy…don’t we…need to talk…” He panted, trying to regain at least a modicum of control against the feather light kisses Buffy was placing along his jawbone and throat. “God, kitten…you’ve no idea what you bloody do to me, do you?” Spike whispered against her the crown of her head as she ducked lower, licking the length of his collarbone. Willing all of his strength, Spike pushed away from Buffy just enough to look her in the eye. Trying to ignore the confusion and hurt that filled them, he asked, “Did you go speak with your mum, luv? We need to talk ‘bout that, yeah?”

“I don’t want to talk right now, Spike.” Buffy stated, glaring into his eyes with newfound determination. Although her mind was screaming at her that what they were doing was wrong, her heart and body were pushing for them to go further. Her skin tingled with chill bumps and Buffy honestly didn’t know if it was due to the air in the room against her damp skin or simply from being in Spike’s arms again. Running her hands along his shoulders, stopping at the base of his neck to tangle her fingers in the soft curls located there, she whispered, “Make me yours again.”

Growling deep in his chest, any lingering doubt to the back of his mind, Spike smashed his lips over hers; their tongues dueling ferociously for control. Within mere seconds, Spike had divested Buffy of her bra and was working on removing her boots, when they broke apart momentarily so that she could yank his trademark black T-shirt over his head; tossing it onto the floor with the rest of the clothing. Finally their bare skin was touching and Spike was amazed when he hardened even just from the contact alone. He smiled against her neck when his ministrations proved to be successful and one boot clunked loudly onto the floor. Turning his attention to the other boot, the only thing standing between him and the removal of her jeans, Spike hastily tugged at the brown leather boot so forcefully that he lost his balance; he struggled to remain upright, but failed in the end and toppled to the ground with Buffy sprawled across his chest.

Impatient, their movements hurried as they struggled against one another in attempts to remove Buffy's last vestiges of clothing. Finally, her jeans were tossed aside and Spike moaned with delight when presented with underwear-clad only Buffy; the lacy white thong was almost more than he could bear. With an animalistic roar, he flipped them over, nestling himself between her lean thighs; pressing his throbbing jeans covered member against the near sweltering heat of her core. Hooking one finger around the scrap of lace, he tugged them off; managing to rip them in half before shoving them inconspicuously into his back pocket for safe keeping. For a split second, he was afraid that she would be upset for the damage, but quickly realized that the look on Buffy's face was one of pure, unadulterated lust and not that of anger.

With a sadistically pleasing smile, Spike lowered his head and latched onto the nipple of one of the perfectly globed breasts offered up below him. His mind momentarily returned to their first night together and her comments on how she wished her body was more curved like a woman and less flat like a young boy; cupping his hand around the free breast, Spike inwardly smiled since her wish had obviously been granted. Lush and ripe for his taking, Buffy's once pencil thin body had morphed into that of a golden goddess; sinfully curvaceous in all the right spots, lusciously tanned from head to toe and currently writhing madly beneath him and driving Spike crazy with need. Sucking her nipple at a teasingly slow speed, his hand crept between her thighs, to the moist apex that was radiating a scorching heat; begging for him to take what he desired. Slipping one finger inside, Spike was surprised to find Buffy's entrance to be as tight as he remembered, almost virginal. Opening his mouth to comment, his words were lost when she arched against him, searching for something more.

"Please, Spike...need you." Buffy whispered, her voice laden with lust and passion; her head slowly moving from side to side as she rocked her hips against his hand. "Now...don't make me wait, please." Arching her back, she thrust her throbbing center against Spike's crotch, begging for him to take her immediately. Impatient, Buffy reached between their bodies and began fumbling with his zipper, intent on getting exactly what she was craving. Her hands shook with desire, in perfect tune with the rest of her body, her actions were clumsy, but Buffy was rewarded in the end when his stiffened shaft popped forth into an awaiting palm.

Muscles rippled along Spike's exposed torso, corded lengths tensed with desire and need as he desperately tried to keep his emotions under control. The moment her hot little hand wrapped around him, massaging his length and swirling her thumb lightly around the weeping tip, Spike's vision blurred and for a brief second he thought he would explode right there; drenching Buffy's exposed flat abdomen with his seed. Their gazes connected, darkened with lust, Spike’s heart hammered in his chest as Buffy guided him to her entrance. Intent on taking things slow, Spike paused briefly before sliding into her heated cavern, but his plans were thwarted when she squeezed him tightly with her thighs and thrust upwards; taking his entire length in one swift motion.

“Faster, Spike…” Buffy moaned as she tossed her head back; long blonde locks spilling across the russet carpet. Her nails dug into the sides of his arms as she urged him to go faster, her hips undulated beneath him; aching to feel more of his cock inside, to calm the emotions that were furiously building deep in her womb. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed her skin; the zipper bit deeply into the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs in a way that Buffy knew should have hurt, but was only becoming more aroused by the sensations. “Harder…more…please.” Her pleas were almost silent, her lips moving and small gasps of air flowing out in words that bordered on undecipherable; only the powerful thrusts of her hips against his gave way to her demands.

Eager to please, Spike sped up, silently wondering for a moment if his movements might bruise her tender flesh. Her nails were digging into his skin so deeply that he thought she might have drawn blood and was amazed by the fact that it didn’t hurt; in fact, it turned him on more. “Fuck, pet…so bloody tight.” Spike panted, his head tucked near her shoulder. Feeling her walls flutter around him signaling her release, he bit lightly into her shoulder as he felt his own orgasm spiral out of control; tiny pinpricks of light danced behind his closed eyes as his body shuddered in a violent, but satisfying spasm.

For several long breaths, they lay there in silence; only the distinct popping of hot embers from the fireplace creating any sound in the darkened room. At some point during their living room romp the storm had turned violent and knocked out the power, not that either of them noticed. Finally, their eyes opened, focusing on one another; confident blue eyes deadlocked on a set of suddenly shy emerald ones.

“What’s the matter, luv?” Spike asked quietly before placing a kiss to the tip of her upturned nose. Their bodies were still interlocked in the most intimate of ways and he felt himself begin to harden as a deep scarlet hue spread across her cheeks. After all these years, just the simple sight of Buffy blushing was still enough to turn him on. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling a bit shy after what we just did on m’living room floor. Christened it quite nicely if I do say so myself.”

“It’s just…that I…um, don’t normally do things…like that.” Buffy whispered, her embarrassment becoming more pronounced as she felt her entire body blush in reaction to his tongue curling smirk. Feeling a sudden hardness lodged in her nether regions, she gasped and exclaimed, “You honestly can’t be ready to go again? Are you?”

Thrusting his hips forward, letting Buffy know exactly what he was wanting, Spike leered and answered with, “I am, pet…not quite finished with you, yet. Got plenty of debauchery left in me, luv.”

With a great deal of awkwardness, he somehow managed to pull them both off the floor and head towards the bedroom, still firmly nestled deep inside her. The trip to the rear of the house was slow and agonizing since it was pitch black and the feeling of her tight walls around his hardened member was driving him insane as he stumbled down the hallway; plus the nips and nibbles Buffy was placing along his neck and shoulders weren’t helping in the least. Finally, he located the bedroom, where he tossed a giggling Buffy onto the bed to literally stew in her own juices while he located candles and placed them around the room, giving off a romantic glow to the mostly bare room. Turning his attentions back to the bed, Spike growled low in his chest before nearly catapulting himself on top of Buffy. “Mmm…hope you’re in for a long night, kitten…’cause I’m nowhere close to being finished with you.”



When Buffy awoke, she had no idea what time it was and the darkened night sky gave away no indication; thankfully the lights had come back on at some point and the room wasn’t completely drenched in black. Slowly, as to not wake Spike, she started scooting to the edge of the bed in desperate need for the bathroom; only to be stopped when she felt a hand clamp down around her wrist.

“Where you off to, luv?” Spike asked groggily, his voice roughened with sleep.

“Bathroom…that is if I have permission, kind sir.” Buffy replied jokingly. Just as she was about to get off the bed, her stomach decided to make its emptiness known with a very audible growl. “Hmm…guess skipping dinner wasn’t the best idea.”

“Feeling a tad bit peckish myself, luv. Why don’t you toddle off to the loo and I’ll scrounge up something to eat, yeah?” Spike lazily scratched his chest and started to get off the bed, stopping when he noticed Buffy ogling him. “See something you like, pet?”

“First, I have no idea what you just said, but if it includes food…then bring it on. Second, you are a pig.” Dodging a pillow, Buffy disappeared into the bathroom with a boisterous laugh while Spike oinked at her retreating form. Looking into the mirror, she gasped at her reflection and cringed at the thought of looking that way in front of Spike. Her hair was a tangled mess and what little makeup she had on earlier was almost gone, save for the dark smudges of mascara under both eyes; the only color on her cheeks was from sexual exhaustion and her lips felt as though sandpaper had scratched over them thanks to the heavy amount of kissing over the past several hours. Quickly, she tried her best to straighten out her hair and wash the remaining makeup from her face before using the restroom. Upon reentering the bedroom, which looked as scraggly as she felt since the bed sheets and pillows were scattered about, Buffy was pleased to find Spike sitting on the bed with several small containers in front of him on a tray. “Ooh…what’s that?”

“Cold Chinese food, if that’s all right with you, kitten. Don’t have a microwave just yet to reheat it.” Picking up one container, he checked inside before handing it to Buffy. “Noodles okay for you?”

“At this point, I could eat anything. I’m starving!” She replied, taking the container from him eagerly. Settling down next to him, Buffy dug into the noodles while he munched on egg rolls. Figuring now was as good of time as ever, she bit the bullet and asked, “Why’d you leave on my birthday?”

Caught by surprise, Spike chocked on his food; grabbing a glass of soda he took a couple of gulps before responding. “Your birthday? Wow, take the hardest one first, yeah? Didn’t want to bring up any painful memories for you, luv. Joyce filled me in on how upset you were when I left and didn’t want to hurt you anymore. Saw you with that bloke…seemed happy, thought it was for the best.”

“And was it? I mean…for you?”

“No.” Spike answered bluntly, sitting down his food. “Truthfully, was the worst bleeding mistake‘ve ever made. Wasn’t a single day that passed that I didn’t think of you, luv. Leaving you, that day in your bedroom, was the hardest bloody thing ‘ve done; not a moment goes by where I don’t regret listening to your Mum.” Reaching out, he tucked a stray strand behind her ear. “God, but you are beautiful.” Hunger forgotten, food pushed out of the way, they fell into one another’s arms for the fourth time that night.

Hours later, bright sunshine spilled into the room and Spike blearily scooted across the bed in search of Buffy’s warm body. Finding only cold satin sheets, he shot upwards in panic, looking around the room frantically for any sign that she was still there. Naked as the day he was born, he crawled out of bed and thundered down the hallway to the living room, where he found all of her clothes were gone. Punching the wall in anger, leaving one hell of a hole in the plaster, Spike roared his displeasure loudly; no doubt alarming his nice, but nosy elderly neighbors. After his enraged shouting simmered to a dull roar, he plopped down miserably onto the couch, where he finally noticed the scrap of paper laying on the coffee table; picking it up, he felt his temper subside and sadness fill his heart as he read the note she had written before leaving; a few simple words that held so much meaning and heartache.

I’m sorry, but I just can’t. It’s too much, please forgive me.

The walk back to the dorms was miserable. Although the worst of the storms had long since passed, the ground was soaked and a light drizzle sprinkled from the darkened sky. Kicking at a stray soda bottle, Buffy cringed when it miraculously landed in a puddle and splashed murky water onto her pants legs. “Figures,” she muttered to herself with a sigh, “Cheating on your fiancé is bound to make your karma all wonky. Course, if I don’t find that stupid ring, things are going to proceed to wonky and continue on to insane. How in the heck do I tell Riley I lost my engagement ring? Bad news all around.”

Dripping onto the carpet, Buffy stood in the doorway of their room and was surprised to find Willow lounging on her bed since she normally spent the weekends with Tara. “Morning,” she grumbled, wincing when the door slammed behind her, not realizing she had shut it with so much force. “What’re you doing here?”

“Uh...hello? Live here.” Willow replied with a smile, “The real question is why you haven’t been here?”

“Wow, so don’t want to get into that story right now.” Buffy frowned and started to sit on the bed, deciding not to since she was drenched. Tugging the sweater over her head, she tossed it across the room, where it landed with a mushy plop on the floor next to the laundry basket. Kicking off her boots, the rest of her clothes soon followed. Wrapping her robe around her tightly, she asked, “What time are we supposed to be at the shop?” New inventory had arrived at the Magic Shop and they had both promised to come in on Sunday and help Anya restock.

“You’ve got a couple of hours, promised Xander we’d be there by ten.” Willow stated, eyeballing the clock and then her weary looking roommate. “Go grab a shower. Looks like you are in desperate need of one. Then…maybe you’ll feel like telling me where you were all night. You know, since I waited here all worried-like and took the liberty of making up one hell of an excuse for your fiancé who called here non-stop until midnight.”

“Oh God!” Buffy exclaimed; her hand clapped across her gaping mouth and face visibly paling as she sank onto the bed. “I didn’t even think about him. What’d you tell him?”

“Violent case of the stomach flu…really gross and unappealing; coming out both ends…eventually, he got the hint and said he’d stop by today and check on you.” Willow sat up and turned to Buffy. “So, were you with Spike?”

“Yes,” Buffy groaned and flopped back onto the bed with her arms covering her face in shame. “Ugh…what in the world was I thinking? Uber tramp, much? How am I ever going to face Riley?”

“Easy…you say ‘Riley, I can’t marry you because I am totally head over heels bonkers in love with someone else.’ Pretty easy. Oh, and your welcome for the cover story.”

Buffy sprang up from the bed and threw her hands up in frustration. “Oh, right…easy. So, you call breaking a man’s heart, a man you’ve been dating since the very first day of my Freshman year, a man you’re planning on marrying in like six months…easy? Not so much, Wills.” Stopping the nervous pacing, she turned and said, “Plus, I’m not breaking up with him. Why would you think that? Last night was just a huge mistake, something that needed to get out of my system. No more Spikey for Buffy, no sir. Just have to be all avoido-girl and quit…like…cold turkey.” With a satisfied shake of her head, Buffy grabbed her toiletry bag and headed to the door. Looking back over her shoulder, she spied the dismayed look on Willow’s face and asked, “What? What’s with the face?”

“Nothing…no wait, it’s not nothing!” Willow exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “You got groiny with Spike; doesn’t that mean anything to you? Look, I don’t want to Miss Meany-pants, but it must’ve meant something, right?”

“It did.” She finally whispered after a moment, looking down at the suddenly very interesting pink and white stripped bag in her hands. “I just don’t know what, just yet.” Before Willow could say anything else, Buffy hurried out and headed towards the bathroom for a much needed shower.

Willow was irritated, to say the least. She had thought that Buffy had finally gained enough sense to realize that she was not in love with Riley; not even a little bit. Sure, he was a nice enough guy! Treated her best friend with respect and was a total gentleman, but can you say…boring? There wasn’t the least amount of spark between the two of them; might as well be brother and sister. Sighing, she leaned back on the bed and closed her eyes; figuring a quick nap would make her feel better after staying up most of the night waiting for Buffy. Just as sleep was about to take over, the phone ringed. Growling, she rolled over to answer it, muttering, “I’m gonna scream if it’s Riley again.” Resting the phone on her shoulder, she answered, “Hello?”

“Lo there, Red. Sorry to bother you, but is Buffy ‘round?” On the other end of the line, Spike mentally cursed himself for being nervous about calling Buffy and was frantically searching for a cigarette to calm his nerves.

“She’s in the shower.” Grinning devilishly, Willow decided to pull out the big guns and ask, “So how was your night, Spike?” When the obvious sounds of Spike coughing uncomfortably came across the line, she was unable to control her laughter. “What? We girls tell each other everything. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that?”

“Just wasn’t expecting you to ask, is all.” Spike replied dryly. “But, to answer your question…yes, I had a wonderful time that is ‘til I woke up alone.”

“Ouch. That had to bruise the male ego, huh? So, what you’re saying is that you really need to talk to Buffy, but she may not willingly come to the phone, right?” The devious wheels in Willow’s brain were chugging along and she knew if she played her cards right, her original plan just might work.

“I guess you could put it that way, Red. Might I ask why you’re helping me though? Thought that being Buffy’s best mate meant not diddling around with her affairs.”

“Well, when you don’t think that the person she’s with is the right one for her, then I think it’s perfectly acceptable to step in and try to…help fix the situation, don’t you?” A small sliver of guilt crept into Willow’s mind and for a split second she thought about just letting the whole plan go, to let Buffy settle on Riley. “Anyway, look…we’re supposed to help at Giles’s store this afternoon; big shipment and all. Buffy will be there sans Riley, if you get my drift. Please tell me you aren’t as empty headed as he is and can actually understand what I’m telling-- Oh, I’m sorry, but you seem to have the wrong number.” Willow sputtered out as Buffy returned from the bathroom. She heard a very confused Spike on the other end of the phone and hoped he would figure out what happened and not call back. “Wrong number!”

“Yeah, ok. Um…listen; I’m going to leave early if that’s all right. Maybe go see Riley first. You don’t mind, do you?” Buffy asked hesitantly as she rummaged through her closet for something nice to wear. ’Hmm…wonder what you wear to see your fiancé after you cheat on him? Very tricky.’ Deciding on her new knee length brown leather skirt and cream colored light weight sweater with brown knee boots, Buffy quickly dressed and started putting on makeup.

“If I must, then I guess so. This way I can take a nap, which is of the good.” Willow rolled over and set her alarm clock before pulling up a blanket. “See you later.”

Thirty minutes later, Buffy found herself planted in front of her mother’s house since Riley hadn’t been home; unfortunately, her mom wasn’t available either. Not sure what to do, she aimlessly drove around town and tried to figure out what she was going to say to Riley. ’Should I just keep the whole thing with Spike a secret or tell him and hope he still wants me? If I play the secretive role and he finds out later, like after the wedding, would that be worse?’ Buffy chewed her lip nervously and continued to plague her mind with questions. ’Do I want to stay with him anyway? What about Spike? Ugh…what to do, what to do?

Eventually, it was time to work, so she headed to the Magic Shop. Climbing out of the car, she went inside and was shocked speechless when she spotted Spike perched on a bar stool next to Anya, who was busy entering items into the new computer behind the counter.

“Well, it’s about time you decided to show up.” Anya announced with a disapproving scowl, “It’s a good thing you don’t actually work for me, punctuality is very important. Hmm…there’s something different about you today, Buffy. What is it?” Anya ticked her finger against her chin while she contemplated; not really noticing the wide-eyed deer in headlights look that was currently pasted on the tiny blonde’s face. “Ah-ha! You had sex…or, at least one hell of an orgasm. Am I right?”

“Ahn! What did we say about topics that are inappropriate to discuss in public?” Xander chimed in from the bookshelves before Buffy could find the right answer to that question. “Plus, you know she and Riley decided to wait until they got hitched before doing any horizontal mambo, right Buff?”

“I…uh…um…you see….I…” Buffy babbled, frozen to the floor in embarrassment; her face blushing in a furious red blaze. Unintentionally, her eyes locked with Spike’s, which were filled with questions and something else unidentifiable. How in the world would she manage to get out of this one?

“Waiting ‘til marriage, yeah?” Spike chimed in sarcastically, curling his tongue behind his lip since he knew it drove Buffy wild. Finding out that she hadn’t had sex with Riley was pretty much like the icing on top of the cake. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to take the car for a test drive before purchase?”

“Shut up, Spike! It’s none of your business.” Buffy replied angrily, tossing her purse onto the table where Willow and Tara sat; silently taking in everything that was going on. “And, why are you here, anyway?”

“Heard ol’ Rupes needed some assistance today, thought I’d offer my…services.” Spike replied cheekily, pushing off the stool to lean one elbow onto the glass countertop; thoroughly amused at the obvious state of anxiety Buffy was currently in. “Don’t tell me that you couldn’t use my services, pet.”

“There will be no having of any services, Spike!” Buffy huffed, crossing her arms across her chest protectively. “Plus, I’m pretty sure that no one here wants anything you have to offer.”

“Oh, don’t be so sure about that, kitten.” He replied softly. Reaching into his pocket, Spike pulled out something shiny; which he held up ever so slightly so that only Buffy would be able to see what it was. “I’m pretty sure there might be something I have that you want, yeah?”

Buffy’s heart thundered loudly in her chest and she felt as though her entire world was suddenly spinning wildly out of control. ‘My ring! How did he get it and why didn’t he let me know last night!?’ “Um…right…ok, assistance needed…back room…there’s boxes, heavy ones…I’ll show you!” She stammered, forcing herself not to meet the curious gazes around the room as she hurried past Spike towards the stock room.

“Not so sure I like that guy.” Xander announced when Spike disappeared into the stock room with Buffy.

“Really don’t think it’s you he’s worried about liking him, Xan.” Anya replied as she took a seat next to her fiancé; who seemed confused. “His only concern is Buffy. Please tell me I’m not the only one that picked up on that tension.”

“That’d be the short version of the story.” Willow piped up as she doodled on a scrap piece of paper. “But, it’s a story that’s not mine to tell. So, ready to put our work hats on?”

“Very much so, but all the new inventory is in the back…with them.” Irritation rolled off Anya who always looked forward to anything that meant work or money; preferably both. “Now what are we going to do? Who knows how long they’re going to be back there…they’d better not be having sex in my stock room!”

“Come on, Ahn…there’s not going to be any of the sex back there. Didn’t you see how mad Buffy was at him? Plus, she wouldn’t do that to Riley!” Xander soothingly rubbed Anya’s back in attempts to make her feel better; oblivious to the disbelieving look plastered on Willow’s face. “So, who’s up for doughnuts?”

While the rest of the gang locked up and headed down the street for coffee and doughnuts, Spike was holed up in the dank stock room with a seriously agitated Buffy. Deciding he liked it when she was angry, liking the adorable flush that crept into her cheeks, he dangled the necklace in front of her and asked, “So, pet…care to tell me what this is about?”

“Gimme that, Spike!” Buffy cried, jumping at him in attempts to grab the necklace out of his hand. She should’ve known he wouldn’t give in that easy; holding the jewelry higher out of her reach. “Where’d you find it?”

“Not bloody likely, luv! Finders keepers, yeah? This pretty lil’ bauble was tangled around a seatbelt in m’car; makes it mine, right? Nope, can’t have it jus’ yet. First, you’re going to explain to me exactly what in the bleeding hell is going through that thick skull of yours! Is this what I think it is? Are you engaged?” Spike fumed, cramming the coveted object into his pocket and stalking towards Buffy; who cowered at his anger and ended up backing herself into a corner. Inches apart, Spike’s temper was on edge as he waited rather patiently for her to answer; her eyes watered, but she remained silent. Finally, she nodded her head ever so slightly and Spike felt his heart break. “That’s just perfect!” He shouted, turning away from Buffy. “If you belong to someone else, then what in the sodding hell were you doing in my bed last night?”

“I don’t know.” Buffy whispered, tears spilling across her face. “I…I’m sorry, Spike…it just happened.” Cautiously she stepped behind Spike, feeling the hurt and anger radiating from his leather clad body. Reaching out, she put one hand lightly on his back and started, “Please tell me…”

“Tell you what, luv?” Spike growled, turning on her in an instant and pushing her against the wall. “Tell you I forgive you? Is that what you want? ‘s not gonna happen, because I don’t regret what we did, unlike you, yeah?

“What I do want to know is if you love him enough to marry him…why’d you come to me? Need a bit of rough and tumble before the big day? Or maybe, maybe…you just wanted to string me along just in case Captain Cardboard can’t give it to you right and proper; keep me close by to make you scream when he can’t.”

“That’s not it, Spike!” Buffy whispered; his face was barely inches away from hers, his hot breath trickling down on her skin, his unique scent invading her senses. “It’s just…that…God, I don’t know why. It was a mistake! A mistake of gigantic proportions and I feel horrible!” Tears flowed freely down her face now, chest heaving with a mixture of sorrow and arousal; shame filled her heart at the very notion that she was turned on by the passion in his voice and eyes.

“All right then, pet. ‘s a mistake, I can live with that.” Spike murmured; his head ducked low so that his lips barely touched the outside of her ear when he talked; one arm pushed against the wall while the other lingered on her side, his thumb idly rubbing circles on her hip. “Tell me you love him and I’ll leave you alone, luv. Won’t hear a peep out of me if you can do that one thing. So, do you?”

“Of course! I mean, he’s sweet and caring and warm, all the things a girl could want in a husband. He’s like my best friend.” Buffy exclaimed, trembling in his arms.

“’s not what I asked, luv.” Spike smirked, his tongue darting out to trace the delicate skin just below her earlobe. He heard her breath hitch and knew he hit the sweet spot, the one area of Buffy’s body that was sure to arouse her if touched just right. His hand lowered to her thigh, disappearing below her skirt to caress the supple skin of her legs. “Tell me you want me, Buffy. Tell me you want this, right here.”

“I…I shouldn’t, Spike…we shouldn’t…its wrong.” Buffy stammered, her hands coming up to clench around the lapels of his duster. “I…don’t…” She started, trying to tell him she didn’t want his advances, but was betrayed by her body’s reaction to his touch.

“Don’t want me? I don’t think so, luv.” His lips danced lightly across her neck, his tongue dipping seductively into the hollow at the base of her throat. Spike smiled against her skin when he felt her open her legs wider to allow him entrance; which he gratefully took. Sliding his hand further up her skirt, Spike pushed aside the scrap of material she called underwear and teased her dripping folds with his fingers. “Tell me that sweet lil’ quim of yours doesn’t drip with anticipation when you’re with me. You know you want me; Buffy…all you have to do is say the words.” Stubborn as always, Buffy remained silent, barely offering up a moan when he eased two fingers inside her; thrusting them in and out until she was teetering on the edge, seconds away from coming completely undone. Letting his fingers slip from her heat, Spike smirked when Buffy finally allowed a whimper to escape. Teasing her mercilessly, he lightly brushed against her swollen nub and whispered, “Say what I want to hear and I’ll let you come, Buffy. Tell me you want me.”

“I…I…want you,” Buffy choked out, her voice breaking with emotion. Her entire body shook as she forced herself to say the only thing that would make him leave, “but, I…I love…him.” The last word came out so soft she barely heard herself, but judging by the expression on Spike’s face, she knew he had heard it. With a roar of fury, an animalistic cry of sorrow and anger, he pushed away from her so hard that the shelves shook from the force, causing Buffy to cry out in surprise. “Spike, wait!” She shouted, reaching out to get him to stay; the hole in her heart tripling in size at the tears on his face. Her eyes were wide as he reached into his pocket and produced her necklace, tossing it onto the floor in front of her with a look of pure heartbreak. When he stormed out of the stock room, a swirling tornado of black leather, Buffy slid down onto the floor into a heap of tears.

They had returned only moments before the feral cry resounded through the shop, yet none of them were prepared for the shock of seeing Spike storm from the hidden room, tears staining his pale skin, duster flapping wildly around him as he stalked towards the exit in total silence. It was almost like the four of them simultaneously held their breaths, not wanting to make the slightest sound as to refrain from capturing his attention; his violent wrath.

When the bell jangled loudly, signaling Spike’s departure, there was a collective sigh, a releasing of breath that echoed in the empty shop. Eight eyes zeroed on the hunter green door as if expecting him to return in a mad rage and take out his frustrations on them, instead of the one who that had caused the pain, the hurt, the agony.

It was Xander who ended up breaking the synchronized silence. “I really don’t like that guy.”

“I’d better go check on Buffy.” Willow exclaimed, her guilt mounting in triplicate the since the mission, dubbed Spuffy, had been her idea to begin with. Hurrying down the hallway, she burst into the stock room, skidding to a halt when her eyes landed on the pitiful lump that was Buffy. Crumpled and broken, her legs twisted beneath her, her once flawless demeanor now disheveled. “Are you ok?”

“Define ok.” Buffy muttered, quickly trying to pull herself together. Exactly how did one readjust their thong without their best friend noticing? Deciding there was no decent way, she opted for embarrassment over discomfort; hastily rearranging her clothes and pulling herself off the floor. “If you mean it in the sense of am I physically hurt, bleeding or experiencing some type of trauma that would otherwise require a trip to the emergency room? Then…no, not so much. However, if you mean, did I just crush the spirit and heart of a man who has done nothing other than claim to love me and want the best out of life for me and now I feel like the scum. No, wait…I’m too good for scum, nope…I’d be the stuff that feeds off the scum that lives under the scum. Yep, that’s me…third layer cannibalistic scum. No, Willow…I am very much in the not ok category.”

“Ok? Um…kudos for the schizophrenic-like rant, but I’m not really following you, Buffy.” Willow replied with a smile, as usual trying her best to lighten the situation. “I get that you kicked Spike to the curb…but, for what reason?”

“Because what we have isn’t love, Wills, that’s why. Its passion and desire and mind numbing lust that makes your insides turn to mushy goo until you’re in one another’s arms; and even then it’s this all-encompassing total body invasion. There’s nothing…nothing but us and I can’t deal with it. That kinda thing doesn’t last; it’s not true love…if there is such a thing. It fades, fizzles out until there’s nothing but this crater like dark hole in your heart when he leaves.” Buffy took a deep breath and exhaled dramatically, then turned to Willow and smiled a sad smile that made her best friend want to cry. “Don’t you see? It’s the opposite of me and Riley. What we have is safe. Riley’s safe. He’s reliable and comforting…simple. And…and that’s what I need, because that way he won’t leave.” Not bothering to wait for Willow’s prerequisite best friend pep talk, Buffy stepped around the dumbfounded redhead and went out to the main area. Putting on a happy face, she inquired brightly, “So, who’s ready to work?”

After several hours of lugging crusty artifacts and ancient leather-bound books around, as well as successfully avoiding any Spike-based conversation, Buffy tromped up the stairs to her room warily. Rounding the corner to her room, Buffy inwardly groaned when she spotted Riley leaning against her door. After everything that had happened over the past couple of days she desperately wanted to collapse into bed, alone, for at least twelve hours of uninterrupted slumber. Dealing with Riley was the last thing she wanted to do right now. Ok, well not so much the last thing, because seeing Spike had that title, but pretty high on the list of things not to do tonight. Knowing that setting things straight with her fiancé was crucial and way more important that sleeping, Buffy sighed and plastered a fake smile on her tired face and continued the short trek to her room.

“Buffy!” Riley exclaimed with a giant smile that lit up his face, making his boyish good looks even more prevalent. Opening his arms wide, he wrapped them around his petite fiancé and kissed the crown of her head. “Where have you been all day? I’ve been worried sick.”

“At the Magic Box, I forgot that I promised Anya that I’d help with the new inventory.” Buffy mumbled against his thick chest, allowing his presence to comfort her misery. While being in Riley’s arms wasn’t as…exciting as being in Spike’s, he provided what Buffy desperately sought; security, comfort and stability: the unspoken promise that he would always be there when she needed him. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not too long, maybe five minutes. Called you several times, though, figured you were asleep or something. Guess you’re feeling better now?” Riley’s stomach twisted; his anxiety mounting as he waited for her answer. He had never questioned Buffy’s loyalty until recently; until he saw how bright her smile was while she in another man’s arms. When Willow had adamantly told him not to come over due to Buffy’s violent stomach flu, his insecurities and doubt had flown of right of the charts; figuring she had been covering for Buffy, while she spent the weekend in the bed of another man.

“Oh…um…not really.” Buffy stammered, pulling away from Riley and looking up into his worried eyes. Guilt pooled in her stomach and for a minute, she thought she might live up to the gruesome sickness that Willow had explained earlier. Determined to set things right, knowing she couldn’t marry Riley without being honest with him, Buffy held onto his hand while unlocking the door and said, “Riley, we need to talk.”

When she was through bearing her soul, Buffy looked up at Riley from where she sat on the bed, eyes shining with tears, her chin trembling as she forced herself not to break down. “I’m so sorry, Riley.” When his silence permeated the air, she whispered, “Can you forgive me?”

Riley felt as though his entire world had crumbled. While he had had his suspicions, they were nothing compared to the indescribable feeling he was experiencing now that he knew Buffy had strayed.

During her confession, he had fled from his perch next to her and tried his best to pace in the uncomfortably small room. Standing near the door, he considered leaving; slamming the door and walking out on her and their relationship, but something changed his mind. He loved Buffy, had from the first moment his eyes had landed on her in Psychology class and had not for one second dreamt of a life without her by his side. Turning back to where Buffy sat expectantly, nervously awaiting his answer, Riley asked quietly, “Is that what you really want, Buffy?”

“Yes!” Buffy cried, wringing her hands anxiously in her lap. A split second flash of Spike’s face popped into her mind and she yearned for his touch, but the anguished look on Riley’s face, an expression put there by the one person who had pledged to love him forever, broke her heart into tiny pieces. It was then that Buffy realized she really did love this man. While his kisses didn’t send her stomach into a million flutters, the soft caress of his hands against her skin never sent chills down her spine, and his eyes didn’t penetrate her soul so fully that her heart wept, Buffy knew that she loved him. Maybe she wasn’t ‘in’ love with him; she truly loved and cared for him, and had made a promise to him when she had accepted his proposal. Pushing off the bed, Buffy timidly approached Riley, stopping just inches away from where he stood against the door. “You’re the one I need, Riley.”

Buffy’s nerves were so far past frazzled by Thursday at lunch, that the very appealing club sandwich she had ordered now looked disgusting; stomach churning, she pushed it away after only two measly bites. Across the table, a very worried mother stared at her sulking daughter, innocently she asked, “Not hungry, dear?”

“Huh? Oh…um, not really. Just wasn’t what I thought I wanted.” Buffy mumbled, mindlessly tearing her napkin into tiny bits.

“Uh-huh, are you talking about the sandwich or Riley?” Joyce commented, knowing she was pushing her luck in the advice column. When Buffy had shown up on her front porch the night before, offering her forgiveness after a rather long winded conversation, Joyce had made a mental promise not to meddle in her daughter’s personal life anymore. However, after spending most of the morning with Buffy, taking in her sallow complexion and weary eyes, something told her that making such a promise wasn’t going to be easy. “I was just asking, sweetie!” She exclaimed, holding her napkin up in mock surrender, when Buffy’s eyes blazed at her from across the table. “You just don’t seem to be yourself lately. I’m worried, that’s what mother’s do.”

“I’m just tired, Mom. School is seriously trying to kill me and Riley’s been hovering…not that I blame him, but with all that and the party tomorrow night…well, let’s just say that my sleep has been less than stellar.” Buffy explained, finally tossing the last scrap of shredded napkin to the growing pile on the table. Glancing back up at her mother, expecting to see disapproval written all over her face, she was astonished to find something else…compassion. After their very long talk the night before about her mother’s deceptions, Buffy had surprised herself by spilling the beans about her weekend affair with Spike. She was even more flabbergasted by the fact that her mother didn’t get upset, but seemed to understand why she had done such a thing. Sharing her sordid secret with her mom had lifted a tiny amount of pressure from her shoulders and they had spent the rest of the night huddled on the couch watching black and white movies while eating an ungodly amount of junk food. “What really sucks is that I am undoubtedly going to have to face Spike in class in like two hours since he wasn’t there on Tuesday. Really don’t want to have to do that.”

“I know this is going to be the last thing you’d ever expect to hear from me, but…why don’t you skip class today?” Joyce offered, smiling at Buffy shocked expression.

“Would really love to, but my paper is due today…so no ditching for me.” Buffy’s face crinkled with distaste at the thought of having to experience Spike’s wrath. While the guilt over cheating on Riley was still curdled in the pit of her stomach, and more than likely would be that way for a very long time, the thought of facing Spike for the first time since the incident at the Magic Box scared the hell out of her because the guilt from that experience was what plagued her sleep every night. The image of his face when she told him she loved Riley haunted her dreams, leaving dried trails of tears staining her cheeks in the morning. “Ugh...it’s just better if I get the whole thing over with, anyway. I mean, hiding from him and drawing it out’s just going to make everything worse in the end, right?”

“I imagine so, dear.” Joyce sat down her fork, picking up her wine glass and swirling the contents as a stall tactic before gathering up the courage to speak her mind. “Buffy, I need to say something and please don’t take it the wrong way, because I know that all the meddling I did in the past has not only hurt you, but what seems to be a very loving and caring young man.” Pausing to see if her daughter was going to stop her speech, Joyce took a calming breath and continued. “I know that you have made your decision to stay with Riley and I commend you on that. He’s a nice young man who obviously loves you a great deal…”

“But?” Buffy interjected when her mother paused, a look of uncertainty crossing her face. “What? You had butt-face!”

“But, I do hope that you made that decision because you are in love with him and truly want to spend the rest of your life with him. If you do, then I think that is wonderful! You two have been together a long time and have a strong relationship, but sometimes that isn’t enough. Just make sure that your decision is for the right reasons, sweetie. You both deserve to be with someone who is madly in love with you and couldn’t imagine life without you in it.” Joyce reached across the table and took her daughter’s hand in hers. “If that’s how you feel about Riley, then you two are destined to be with one another and you’re both lucky. Ok, that’s all...the end of any more motherly advice. I promise.”

“I’ve made my decision, Mom, but thanks for the advice.” Buffy slid her hand from Joyce’s and smiled, “Really, Riley’s what’s best for me. I love him, I really do. So, no worries, right?”

“No worries.” Joyce echoed, her doubts still screaming in her mind. One look into her daughter’s eyes told her that she had doubts about marrying Riley, but Joyce knew that pestering Buffy about it would only make her more determined to stick with her decision.


An hour later, Buffy reluctantly slunk into class, purposefully showing up just as Giles was shutting the door; his signal that the lecture was about to begin. Handing him her paper, she slid into her usual seat by Willow, who eyeballed her curiously as Buffy sank down into her seat in attempts to go unnoticed, and sighed out loud with relief at the realization that Spike wasn’t there, again. However, her good luck ran out quickly when the side door opened and he sauntered in, pausing to hold the door open for a svelte looking brunette dressed to perfection in a winter white slacks and a deep purple silk blouse. Not only did this cause Buffy to feel sick to her stomach with anxiety, but her cheeks reddened with jealously. In an instant, her hatred for the mystery woman mounted when his hand pressed against her lower back in an innately intimate gesture and led her across the room.

“Sorry for the delay, Rupes. Got caught up in a dreadfully boring meeting with that horrid Dean of yours.” Spike apologized, tossing his black leather satchel onto the desk and motioning to his lady friend to take a seat. When he didn’t introduce his guest to the class, Buffy seriously considered screaming.

“Not a problem, William. Only just got here myself.” Rupert insisted, taking a seat in the front row; peaking the curiosity of his students. “So…ready for your first class?”

Stepping up to the podium, Spike smiled that incredibly charming and sexy smile that certainly had the hearts of his female students swooning, and said, “Ah, the question should be are your students ready for me, Rupes, not the other way around.

“Afternoon, all…today I’ve decided to change things up a bit, throw Rupert’s stodgy old syllabus out the proverbial window and try something different. Now, I don’t want everyone to groan all at once, or at least have the bloody decency to do it quietly, but today’s class is all about poetry.” He paused, letting the collective sigh fill the room before continuing. Smirking, he looked directly at Buffy and said, “I want everyone to write a poem about loss and I don’t mean the last time your sodding car keys ended up crammed in your worn out couches. I want passion, desire, that overwhelming need to find that certain person and hold onto them tight so that they never leave again. It can be your lover, your bleeding sister or hell, a filthy dog, but it has to be done in thirty minutes…which will leave plenty of time for your presentations.” His pleased smile turned into an evil grin as he watched Buffy sink further into her seat. “Course; just to be fair…Rupes and I will be joining in.” Spike added, gaining a groan of protest from the professor.

Standing nervously at the podium, hands clenching the sides, Buffy’s knees actually shook as she prepared to face one of her biggest fears…public speaking. Licking her lips, she took a deep breath, avoided the intense glare from Spike and softly started to speak.

Miss you?
Sure, why not
You stole my heart and ran away
You gave me a note with nothing more to say
No more to say than 'I want out'
Denied the truth
I wanted to shout
Cried and cried is what I did do
Mourning this loss
The loss of you

Once finished, she grabbed the crumpled slip of paper and darted to her seat, the intensity of his stare boring a whole into her back the entire way. Flopping down in her seat, Buffy exhaled loudly, a breath she wasn’t aware of holding and stared at the back of the chair in front of her; mind wondering as she ignored the works of her fellow students.

‘Oh God, why did I have to make it about him? Couldn’t have just stuck with the death of Miss Kittyfantastico, could you? Nope, that’d just be too darned logical, huh? Stupid Buffy!’ She thought to herself as one by one her classmates ticked off their poems, never realizing that Giles had come and gone and Spike had taken his spot at the head of the class. The velvet smooth tone of his voice, deep and rich like decadent chocolate cake drew her out of her thoughts. Their eyes connected, his dark and fueled with a dangerous combination of desire and pain; hers wide and filled with sorrow.

The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain, there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holding on
I'm barely holding on to you

The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life

I'm hanging on another day
Just to see what you throw my way
And I'm hanging on to the words you say
You said that I will be OK

The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home

Buffy sat in a stunned silence as Spike crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it into the waste basket, pausing momentarily with his back turned and rubbed his hands over his face. When he faced them again, his eyes never fell upon hers again as he praised the class on their creativeness and made a small insignificant speech about the wonder that was poetry. Finished, he bade the class farewell, gathered his things and motioned for his guest to follow in his hasty retreat.

It was a long time before Buffy left the classroom, now empty and darkened; a crumpled piece of paper clutched tightly in her fist, salvaged from the trash can.



Buffy’s poem found at poemhunter.com and was written by Dana Tyrell
Spike’s poem is actually bits and pieces of a song by Lifehouse “Broken”

Not mine in any way...so, please don't sue me for using them.

Buffy stifled a yawn and cleverly tipped the champagne flute to her cranberry colored lips, sipping the sparkling amber liquid in attempts to mask her boredom. Sighing, she polished off yet another glass of bubbly, placing it on the nearest waiter’s tray and deftly grabbing another. Friday night had definitely arrived and with it came a level of anxiety and despair that she never knew one being could possess. While Buffy was relieved that Riley had accepted her apology and agreed to move past her transgression, she truly wished that elaborate party to announce their engagement, which his parent’s had slyly finagled out from underneath her mother, had been postponed to a later date.

The intimate affair she had once imagined, tucked away in the jasmine scented backyard of her childhood home, filled with only close friends and family, had been trampled upon and rebuilt to the specified constructs of Riley’s upper-crust mother. Sandra Harrison Finn, the only daughter to multi-millionaire media mogul and first love to Richard Harold Finn, local hometown football hero and recent elect into the Iowa State Senate, was used to having her every wish granted without a moment’s hesitation. Due to her future mother-in-law’s visions of grandeur, Buffy’s friendly down to earth soiree had been nipped in the bud and swiftly turned into an elaborate celebration in the ballroom of Sunnydale’s finest hotel. With just over two hundred guests, most of whom she didn’t have the foggiest clue as to who they were, Buffy’s anxiety levels had skyrocketed and only seemed to be calmed with the ever present trays of champagne circling the softly lit ballroom.

Slightly dazed and bleary eyed with an enormously false bright smile plastered across her face, Buffy gratefully accepted her fiancés arm as he guided them across the room to the head dinner table. Thankfully, the meal was about to be served; which would allow her both something other than alcohol to fill her empty stomach and an excuse to sit down, since the four inch black heels that had seemed like a good idea earlier were now slowly trying to kill her. Staring down at the plate, she growled in frustration at the petite fowl and vegetables; wishing that the cream colored china was filled with the cheeseburgers and fries she had originally requested instead. Opting for something more filling than what was offered; Buffy grabbed two dinner rolls and idly munched on the buttery carbohydrates in hopes that they would quell the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Buffy, are you feeling ok?” Riley whispered, leaning over close to her ear. “You don’t seem like you’re all here tonight, babe.”

“I’m sorry for being all space-cadety tonight, Ri. Just tired is all, didn’t get much sleep last night and then with all the last minute things to do and all.” Buffy apologized, instantly regretting the dour mood she’d been in, as well as the five flutes of champagne. Smiling brightly, she pressed a light kiss to his cheek and gasped when a shock of platinum hair caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Pushing the chair back quickly, she stammered, “Umm…excuse me, uh…ladies room!” Not bothering to scoot her chair underneath the table, she hurried from the room in what she hoped was the direction he had disappeared; leaving a bewildered fiancé to gather her forgotten napkin that had fluttered to the floor in her hurried departure.

Out in the hallway, Buffy dodged several meandering couples as she eagerly searched the hotel for any signs of Spike. When she had no luck finding him in the hallway, Buffy headed towards the front of the hotel in hopes of locating him in the bar. As she rounded the corner swiftly, the hemline of the cabernet colored cocktail dress swirled around her knees, which promptly buckled when her eyes landed on her first love, chivalrously pulling out a chair for the sinuous brunette with doe eyes that had accompanied him to class the previous day. Gasping, Buffy fled from the doorway, her cheeks reddened with shame and pain as she hurried down the hall towards the restrooms; never noticing the handsome man with glasses that joined the couple, brushing a kiss across the supple lips of the mysterious woman.

Inside the bar, Spike laughed heartily as the tale Wesley had spun for them came to an end. While the painful events of his first week back in Sunnydale were still fresh in both his heart and mind, he was genuinely happy at that moment and gratefully accepted the distraction that the presence of his friends provided. After the fallout with Buffy, he had contacted his longtime friend and editor, Winifred Wyndam-Price, to inform her that he had managed to write out several chapters of his next book and would be more than happy to have her and her husband, Wesley, visit for the weekend to hammer out the rough first draft. Eager to see her friend, as well as an impromptu vacation, Fred had accepted the invitation, but had declined the offer to stay at his home, deciding instead to book a suite at the only reputable hotel in Sunnydale and declare a second honeymoon; since their own post-nuptial vacation had been cut short due to an unfortunate incident involving the naturally clumsy and accident-prone, Wesley, who had tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs, ending up with a broken leg.

“Earth to William!?” Fred exclaimed as she waved her hand in front of Spike’s face, trying to jostle him from the daze he had suddenly slipped into. When his startling blue eyes connected with her whiskey brown ones, she smiled and prodded, “Where’d you go?”

“Oh, um…sorry ‘bout that…thought I saw someone I knew.” Spike mumbled, draining the last dregs of beer from the bottle; his eyes fluttering back to the entrance of the bar; hoping to catch a glimpse of the petite blonde he had envisioned earlier. Apparently, after several drinks his mind had resorted to conjuring up false images of her to satisfy the ache in his heart. Not seeing Buffy, he shook his head and muttered, “Guess m’eyes are playing tricks on me.”

“Not meaning to pry, oh who am I kidding, right? I love to pry!” Fred drawled, her native Texan accent dripping with twang. “But, you’ve been more mopey than usual. Everything all right?”

At Spike’s insistence that there was nothing wrong, his childhood best friend, Wesley, instantly knew a lie when heard and interjected, “Honestly, you haven’t seemed like yourself, William….rather, dejected, and I have to wonder if perhaps your mood has to do with the young woman you mentioned earlier in the week.”

“Is he right, Will? Is this all about some girl?” Fred asked, intrigued. While they had been friends for many years, all the way back to their freshman year in college when she had adopted a fairly embarrassing crush on her lab partner, it had been years since he had allowed his mood to be dictated by someone of the fairer sex.

“Isn’t it always about a woman, pet?” Spike replied, cocking his eyebrow sarcastically. “Listen, it’s been a long day, yeah? Lots of revisions to be made and what not, so I’m going to shove off for the night. You love birds head on up and take advantage of that suite.”

“Well, ok…but only if you’re sure you’ll be all right.” Fred demanded, burrowing her tiny frame in Spike’s arms for a hug. “It would go against the friendship code if we just left you upset.”

“Fred, I’ll be fine, promise.” Spike assured, kissing her forehead lightly before turning her over to her awaiting husband. “Now toddle off, you’re keeping me from work. Quite sure that isn’t what an editor is supposed to do, yeah?”

Out in the hallway, Spike enviously watched the happy couple disappear down the corridor to the elevators before turning to leave and bumping in to someone. “Oh, sorry mate! Didn’t see you there…Rupert?” He asked, surprised to see both of the Giles’s in the hotel. Grinning devilishly he patted Rupert on the arm and said, “Rupes, you old devil! Whisking the wife away for a little tryst?’

“Dear Lord, William!” Rupert exclaimed, while his raven haired wife chuckled. “Of course not, honestly! We’re here for Miss Summer’s engagement party.”

“Buffy? Party, here…tonight?” Spike muttered, shocked as he realized that his apparition hadn’t been imagined at all.

“Yes, Buffy…from class, blonde girl, third row at the end… tiny little thing, really. Surely you know her William.” Rupert exclaimed, mistaking Spike’s bewildered expression for confusion. “Come on then, we’re late enough as is…you can join us. Quite sure she won’t mind, very nice young lady.”

Digging in his heels, Spike tried his damndest to stay firmly planted in place, but was surprised to find that old Rupert wasn’t as decrepit as he thought. Stumbling along behind the Giles’s, one with a determined expression and the other with a more knowing one, Spike reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled into the grand entrance of the glowing ballroom. “Really, Rupert…I’m pretty sure that I am not on Buffy’s guest list.” Spike exclaimed, panicking as he took in the surroundings.

“Nonsense, William!” Rupert barked, swatting at Spike’s hand as he tried to pry it from his grasp, “Why on earth would she mind? Obviously the rest of the free world is here, why shouldn’t you be as well?”

Unsure of what to say, Spike opted to stammer inaudibly and do his best impression of a guppy under attack; his eyes locked on the lovely blonde being twirled around on the dance floor by her lumbering fool of a fiancé. Thankfully, Jenny swooped in to his rescue and lightly placed her hand on the forearm of her husband and quietly said, “Rupert, dear…it’s obvious that William doesn’t want to be here. Any reason other than that is none of our business.”

“Of course,” Rupert murmured, dropping William’s hand and taking the one his wife offered. “My apologies, William, I honestly don’t know what came over me. Do as you wish, but I am quite sure your presence here wouldn’t be a problem.”

Spike offered up a quite mumble of acceptance to Rupert’s apology, but didn’t make any move to leave; his eyes remained locked with the bride-to-be. The world seemed to disappear around them, gazes fastened, as if they were the only two people in the room.

Joyce Summers might have partaken in more than a few glasses of champagne, but she was still alert enough to notice the change in her daughter’s demeanor. Stiff backed and wide eyed, Buffy’s attention was no longer focused on the dance she was sharing with her fiancé. Nope, instead, with every twirl Riley introduced her head whipped around so that her eyes could remain locked on a spot located directly behind the table where Joyce. Turning in her seat, Joyce instantly found the distraction…Spike. Frozen solid, his eyes sparkled with unshed tears that were captured in the shimmer from the chandelier’s overhead. All of the sudden, as if popped with a whip, Spike fled from the ballroom without saying a word to Buffy.

It was in that moment that she was hit with the full implications of her meddling. The only thing she had accomplished was keeping two people, who were obviously very much in love, apart. Turning back around to face the dance floor, Joyce smiled softly at her daughter, whose eyes were also full of tears, but also of questioning, and staring luminously at her mother. Making a swift decision, Joyce cocked her head in the direction Spike had left and mouthed to her daughter, “Go!” When Buffy didn’t move from Riley’s arms, Joyce repeated her order again with a wave of her hand and smiled when her daughter finally stepped away from her fiancé.

“Riley, I can’t do this.” Buffy stated, wringing her hands anxiously for a moment before sliding the engagement ring from her finger. With shining eyes, she looked up at her dumbfounded fiancé and handed him the ring. “I’m so sorry for…everything, but I can’t marry you.”

“Why? I…I don’t understand, Buffy. You said…you said you loved me and wanted to be with me! I thought we’d gotten past your insecurities.” Riley pleaded, reaching out to grab hold of Buffy’s shoulders. “Please don’t do this.”

“I have to, Ri! It’s not fair to you if I stay…not when my heart belongs to someone else.” Buffy stepped away from his hold and whispered, “I thought I was over him, I really did and I do love you. I’m sorry.” Without waiting for any response from Riley, she gave one last look at her mother, smiled, and high tailed it out of the ballroom.

Out in the hallway, she looked down one hallway and then the other without any luck...and then, luck rained down on her when she spotted the tale tell brightness of his hair just beyond the double glass doors of the front door. Bursting forth, she stumbled and wobbled in the towering heels and cursed herself for deciding to wear them. Grumbling, Buffy leaned over and fumbled with the straps for a moment before finally getting them loose enough to wrench the shoes from her feet. With a jubilant cheer, she sprinted down the hallway and shot through the front doors; a heel in each hand.

“Spike!” She shouted, frantically searching the parking lot for any signs of him. Turning around in circles, her spirits soared when she spotted his car pulling from a spot at the other end of the lot. “Spike! Wait!” Buffy screamed, the ferocity burning her throat as she dashed across the lot in the direction of his car. Tiny pebbles pricked the soft skin of her feet and the cold night air chilled her bare arms and legs, all of which went unnoticed as she closed in on her goal. “Spike! Don’t go!”

Standing in the middle of the brightly lit parking lot, Buffy stared dejectedly at the rear end of Spike’s car as it slowly pulled away; shivering in the cold night air as the red tail lights slowly moved further away from her. Not really paying all that much attention to anything around her, Buffy jumped when the silence was broken by a sharp crack. Looking down, she realized that at some point she had thrown her shoe at his car and the loud noise was the result of the high heel hitting the back window. Chewing her lip nervously, she cringed when the car stopped and the brake lights flashed as the driver side door was thrown open by a very unpleased Spike.

“What the bloody hell?” Spike shouted, leaning over the back of his car to check the damage; pulling back a black high heel in the process. Craning his neck, he scanned the parking lot around the car in search of the culprit, his eyes slowly making their way to where Buffy stood; one hand behind her back. “Buffy?”

“Um…hi?” She replied, unsure of what to say, she held the other shoe behind her back as if he wouldn’t know that she was the one that threw it at his car.

“I take it this belongs to you then, luv?” Spike asked, dangling the article in question by the thin straps. “What I don’t understand is why in the bleeding hell did you toss it at my car?”

“Um…you see, I needed to uh…stop you…to tell you that…I mean I …wanted you to…uh, know that….I…” Buffy stammered as her mounting nerves ruined the movie of the week moment she had planned.

“What are you on about? Aren’t you supposed to be inside with Captain Cardboard professing your undying love and all that rot?” Spike shot back, letting anger take the place of the sadness that filled his heart. Glaring at Buffy, who was currently shuffling from foot to foot, he gruffly asked, “Well, you plan on standing there all night or did you actually have something to say to me? ‘s not like I’ve got all night, ya know?”

“Oh, um…of course you do.” Buffy mumbled, feeling like a complete idiot for not remembering the woman that was with him earlier. Panic rose in her chest as horrifying thoughts of his mystery woman waiting in the passenger seat for him. As best as she could, Buffy scanned the dimly lit interior for any signs of life and sighed in relief when none were found. Locking eyes with Spike’s questioning glare, Buffy stammered, “Never mind…just forget that I bothered you, ok? I’m sorry.”

“Never said you bothered me, luv.” Spike interjected, “Just tell me what has you in such a fluster, yeah? I’d rather not play twenty questions right now.”

“I love you!” Buffy blurted out; her eyes widening in shock at her spontaneous admitted of her feelings; one lone heel clambered to the ground as she gasped and slapped her hands across her mouth.

“I’m sorry, you what?” Spike sputtered, taken by surprise by Buffy’s confession. “Run that one by me again.”

“I love you.” She murmured behind her clasped hands, only lowering them as Spike’s confused expression grew worse. “Really didn’t mean to just blurt it out that way, but I love you. I…I’m so sorry for dragging this whole thing out and making a huge deal about well…everything, when I could have just faced my feelings. It’s you that I want, Spike. It’s always been you.”

“And…what? What did you honestly expect for me to say to that, Buffy?” Spike demanded, his temper flaring. The one thing he had hoped for was that she would come to her senses and now that the time was here, hearing her say those words only provoked his anger. “Seems to me that you’re a bit quick to throw those words around, wasn’t it just the other day when you said you were in love with Riley?”

“You have no idea how much I regret saying that to you, Spike.” Buffy timidly crossed the distance between them. “I was scared…of my feelings for you. Feelings that I thought were long forgotten. I know that’s not an excuse for the way I treated you, but I hope that maybe you can see things from my point of view and…”

“Forgive you? Put it all aside, so that we can toddle off into the sunset holding hands while the sodding trumpets play in the background? Not likely, luv. This isn’t a bloody movie. I’ve got my pride, ya know?” Spike huffed out, crossing his arms across his chest instinctively, which was a bit difficult since he was still holding her shoe.

“Oh, um…I understand.” Buffy replied, her breath hitching as she desperately tried to control the tears that were bubbling just below the surface. “I’ll just…um...go, ok? I’m sorry.” Not bothering to look up at Spike’s face, or waiting for a response, she spun around to leave.

“Obviously not,” Spike exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing her bicep to keep her from leaving, “Otherwise, you’d know the whole pride thing was just a smokescreen.”

“Really?” She whispered, looking up into his blue eyes hopefully as he pulled her close; their bodies touching ever so slightly. “I mean…you feel…with the…um…”

“Bloody hell woman, do you ever shut up?” Spike grumbled, bowing his head to press his lips tightly against hers; eliciting a moan of satisfaction from deep within Buffy’s chest as she melted in his arms. Wrapped up in one another, neither noticed when her remaining shoe clattered to the ground, forgotten in their moment of passion, which was rudely interrupted by the disapproving sounds as a couple passed by. Guiltily, they broke apart, their bodies still fairly close together as they glanced over to their not so appreciative fan club; Spike’s glare bordered on annoyance, while Buffy’s face flared red with embarrassment when she realized who had interrupted their make out session.

“Oh my god!” She groaned, burying her head against Spike’s chest in mortification. Seconds later, surprising even herself, Buffy erupted into a fit of giggles; laughing hysterically. At Spike’s questioning and mildly worried gaze, she sputtered, “That was Riley’s aunt and uncle! Judging from their faces, I don’t think I’m going to be let back in to get my stuff, huh?”

“No, pet…I highly doubt that either one of us are still on the guest list.” Spike joked, letting a smile creep onto his face as Buffy’s burst of laughter became contagious. Rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms, he said, “Come on then, luv. Let’s get out of here, yeah? Don’t need you catching a cold tonight...got too much planned for you to get sick.”

“I’m all for getting out of here,” Buffy replied as she allowed him to steer her around the car to the passenger side, holding the door open so that she could slide inside. “I may have a thing or two in store for you tonight, too.”

“Saucy lil’ minx…you’d better not be teasing me, luv.” He murmured huskily, leaning in to kiss her thoroughly before shutting the door; leaving Buffy panting for more. Quickly, he jogged across the lot and gathered up Buffy’s abandoned shoes before hopping in the car and speeding away in the direction of his house.

“Why’d you have to live all the way on the other side of town?” Buffy whispered, her breath laced with barely audible moans as she nibbled and licked around Spike’s earlobe and neck; causing growls of impatience to emanate from his chest.

“That’s it, can’t bloody well wait until we get home!” He barked, jerking the steering wheel and careening the car down a darkened dirt road, half hidden with drooping limbs that scratched along the roof eerily. Throwing the car into park, Spike wrapped his hands around her tiny waist and hauled Buffy clear across the seat; firmly planting her across his lap and smashing his lips against hers hungrily.

Buffy cried out in surprise before giving into the emotions swirling inside; devouring his lips greedily, moaning passionately against his lips. His hands clawed at her thighs, setting the flesh on fire with each touch as he slid them under the silky material of her dress; resting them briefly on the swell of her hips before grasping tightly and ripping her drenched thong from her body in one swift movement. Rising up slightly so that Spike could slip one hand between her quivering thighs, Buffy moaned deeply when he eased one finger inside, pumping it in and out slowly as if hell bent on driving her insane with desire. “Can’t…wait, Spike…need you.” She gasped, writhing in his lap, thrusting against the motion of his hand.

“Mmm…think you can hold off just a bit longer, kitten.” He murmured against her neck, nuzzling the soft skin just below her ear. “Gonna make you scream first.” It didn’t take long, in fact only a few seconds of massaging her swollen clit with his thumb and he had Buffy screaming like a banshee. Mesmerized by her beauty, he watched as she slowly descended from her orgasm; green eyes clouded with lust, hair billowing around her shoulders and cheeks flushed prettily. Not waiting for her to come down from the orgasmic high, Spike unzipped his black dress pants and freed his rigid shaft, rubbing her clit teasingly before plunging inside her heated channel and burying himself to the hilt. “God, Buffy...so bloody tight. Fuck, pet.” He gritted out, trying to hold back from plowing into her roughly as they both adjusted to being together again. “Don’t know how long I can hold off.”

“Doesn’t matter…we’ve got all night.” Buffy panted, wiggling her hips to get Spike moving. “Oh! Yes!” She cried, digging her nails into his leather covered shoulders as he gripped her hips tightly, thrusting deeply inside. “Oh…Spike! Feels…so…good,” Buffy panted, stars already blooming behind her eyelids. Waves of pleasure swirled throughout her body as they moved together in perfect rhythm and within moments, her second orgasm of the night spiraled through her. Buffy screamed in ecstasy, tossing her head back as pleasure ripped through her quivering body, stars dancing before her closed eyes as she arched her back and accidentally honked the horn in the process. “Oops!” Buffy giggled, breaking into a bright smile, wiggling her hips against Spikes. “Guess our location has been given away!”

“Don’t rightly care, pet!” Spike barked. His eyes were wide open, relishing the sight of Buffy riding him; her head tilted backwards, long locks flowing down her back. Their cries filled the small space of the front seat as they moved together, matching one another thrust for thrust until they were both shaking and screaming with ecstasy. Minutes ticked away in the heated enclosure, windows steamed from their passion, before Spike was able to speak. Capturing Buffy’s lips, he kissed her thoroughly and whispered, “God, I missed you…love you so much, pet.”

Watching the emotions roll over his face, Buffy held back the tears of joy that prickled in her eyes, finally understanding what it meant to be happy and loved. “I love you, too.”

After cleaning up a bit, thankful for have a packet of tissues in the glove box, Buffy nibbled her lip for a minute and timidly asked, “Um…can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, luv. What is it?”

“That girl earlier, the one you brought to class? Who…I mean, were you two…um, involved?” Twirling her hair, Buffy held her breath and awaited his answer.

“Very much so, pet.” He replied, trying to hide the smirk on his face. Unable to hold his laughter at bay, Spike chuckled loudly when he saw Buffy’s face pale at his answer. “She’s my editor, Buffy. Nothing to worry about, I promise, just came down for the weekend with her husband to pick up my latest chapters.”

“Oh, thank the world! She seemed really nice and I was really going to hate having to claw her eyes out!” Buffy answered, only mildly joking with Spike. Reaching over, she grabbed his hand and scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as her eyelids drooped wearily. Tilting her head up slightly, she placed a kiss to his jawbone and whispered. “I really do love you. I’m sorry I was so stupid before about my feelings.”

“Weren’t stupid, kitten…you were just thinking with your brain, took a little longer for your heart to speak up. Doesn’t matter though, you’re here now and you were worth the wait, luv.” Spike replied with a smile, realizing that for the first time in years he was truly happy. Glancing down at Buffy, he chuckled when he saw she had indeed fallen asleep against his shoulder and had more than likely missed his answer. Lifting their joined hands, he lightly kissed the back of her hand before releasing it and put his arm around her tiny frame; holding on to her as she slept. “You’ll always be worth the wait, Buffy.”

EPILOGUE:



Spike leaned casually against the doorframe of their bedroom, holding back the chuckle that threatened to escape its unstable confines as he watched an unknowing Buffy dance in front of the bathroom mirror. Clad in only a delicate pair of purple boy shorts and one of his white button-up shirts, Spike felt his desire grow stronger as she shook her hips from side to side; unwittingly making him hard as her ass wiggled around. A part of him was still amazed that after nine months of dating, spending almost all of their time together, that just the sight of Buffy could still invoke such strong emotions from within.

“I don’t want anybody else…when I think about you I touch myself…ah ah ah…” She warbled into a hairbrush, her voice slightly off key as she sang along with the radio; which was thankfully turned up loud enough that she never heard the giggles coming from across the room. “I love myself I want you to love me…when I feel down I want you above me!” It was at that moment that she chose to spin around in a very pathetic dance attempt and spotted Spike in the doorway; red-faced from laughing so hard. “AH!” She shrieked in surprise, “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to know what you do when I’m not home, kitten.” He replied with a smirk, pushing off the doorframe and heading in her direction, careful to avoid colliding with the stack of packing boxes littering most of the bedroom. Even though she had moved out of the dorms over a week ago after graduation, they had both been far too busy over the last several days to begin unpacking. “You have no idea how bloody sexy you look right now. Good enough to eat.” He added suggestively, curling his tongue over his teeth.

“Oh No!” Buffy shrieked, pointing the hairbrush in Spike’s direction like a weapon. “You can just wipe that leer off your face, Mister!”

“Leer? What leer, pet?” He asked, feigning innocence as he continued to stalk towards her. “Wasn’t doing anything wrong…just appreciating a beautiful woman.”

“Shyah, right!” Buffy scoffed with a knowing laugh, “I know what that look means and we so do not have the time for that right now. We’ve got to be at the church in what…like less than an hour!” For a brief moment, they glared at one another until Spike threw up his hands in mock surrender and plopped down on the bed. Pleased with the small victory, Buffy turned back to the mirror with a smile and teased, “That’s a good boy…might even get a treat when we get home!”

Grabbing her eyeliner, Buffy leaned in towards the mirror to apply to apply it, paying no attention to Spike easing in behind her. Her knees buckled with the first contact of his lips against her neck; feather soft kisses sent chills racing down her spine. His arms wrapped around her waist, slipping beneath the shirt so that his fingers tickled her sides lightly before grasping the delicate swell of her hips, pulling her tightly against his body so that the evidence of his desire pressed hard against the curve of her ass. A moan of desire slipped involuntarily past her lips, her body a slave to his passion. “Spike…we really…mmm…shouldn’t…oh dear god!” She panted, her body moving in perfect rhythm to the ministrations of his skilled fingers as they dipped below the waistband of her panties and slipped between her heated thighs. “Church….rehearsal dinner…bad if missed.” Buffy muttered incoherently, gasping when one digit eased its way in between her delicate folds.

“God, pet…always so wet for me, aren’t you. Let me have you, promise I’ll make it quick. Ten…fifteen minutes, tops.” Spike whispered huskily, his breath hot against her ear; voice deepened with desire. A throaty chuckle burst forth upon her stammered insistence that he could never be that fast. “Always a first time, luv. Ah…that’s it…open up those luscious legs for me, kitten.” Sliding another finger inside her heat, he smiled against the nape of her neck when she widened her stance and arched against him, whispers of want slipping from her between her lips.

He strained viciously against his pants, the zipper digging into the sensitive flesh. Relinquishing his hold on her waist, Spike released the raging member from its denim confines with a groan. Stroking it briefly before letting it fall against the soft material covering Buffy’s luscious backside, he situated himself between each curvaceous cheek and moved in perfect rhythm with his other hand, quickly bringing Buffy to release with a breathy sigh of satisfaction.

“Mmm, kitten…I could spend the rest of my life just watching you cum.” He murmured seductively in her ear as his hands hurriedly riding her body of underwear. Positioning himself at her entrance, Spike lightly wrapped a hand around her throat, pulling her head up to face the mirror directly. “Open your eyes...watch me while I make you scream, luv.”

Buffy’s knees trembled, her stomach flipped with anticipation and her heart beat so wildly that she was certain it was going to rip straight from her chest. His words, the coarseness of his voice and intensity in his stormy blue eyes had her body quaking with desire; a feeling that no other man had ever come close to creating. Their eyes locked in the mirror as he filled her, nestling there briefly before pulling out slowly and swiftly slamming back inside. Her hands curled around the lip of the counter for support, his were clasped securely around her hips, nails biting into the supple flesh as he guided her on and off of his shaft. Soft sighs and moans of passion and need filled the air, combined with the sharp slap of their skin as their coupling became fiercer; both desperately aching for release. “Oh…Spike! Unh…harder…mmm…Yes!” She panted, biting her lower lip as desire pooled in her belly. Ripping and shattering through her body, Buffy’s toes curled in ecstasy as a second orgasm tore through her nether regions.

Spike tightened his grip on her hips, savoring the tantalizing feel of her heated walls clenching him as she rode out her pleasure in waves, quickening his thrusts until he spilled himself deep within her womb with a satisfied roar. Leaning against her momentarily to catch his breath, he muttered, “See…told you I could bloody well make it quick. Prolly got time to spare, pet.” Slipping from her heat, Spike kissed the back of her neck as she giggled from his response and stepped over to the shower. “Although, I fully intend to return for an encore performance after dinner, luv…a much lengthier one.

“I promise, you can ravage me any way you want after dinner, Spike. But, for now, we really need to kick it into overdrive. Anya will totally have our heads on a platter if we dare show up late to her shindig.”

“Right you are, luv. You want to join me in here?” He asked, stepping into the steam filled shower.

“Uh-huh, I join you in there and we’ll never make it out of the house. Guess that means I’ll just have to spend the night smelling of sex.” She replied with a sultry look before turning around to assess the damage done to her hair and makeup. A smile spread across her face when Spike let out a strangled moan from the shower, obviously more than a little turned on by the idea. “Twenty minutes, Spike!” She called over her shoulder, disappearing into the bedroom to change. Thankfully, she had had the foresight to lay out everything she would need for the night and quickly slipped into the rose colored sheath and delicate cream colored sandals.

Looking around the room, she felt her emotions skyrocket as she took in the tale tell signs that this was now her home; a well placed vase of flowers, the smattering of candles along the windowsill, along with several pictures of them that adorned the top of the dresser. After nine long months of living apart, she was glad that they were finally able to move forward in their relationship. The first four months had been rocky, spent on the sly since he was employed at the University she attended, which was cut short by Giles’s unexpected return with an explanation from Jenny that he was just incapable of taking time off. The last five months had been spent cramming in sessions of lovemaking with studying for numerous tests, since had decided to move up her graduation date and pilled on the class work. Finally, freedom from tests and research papers had come a week ago and they had wasted no time moving her into his house…now their house.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Spike emerged from the closet impeccably dressed in charcoal dress pants and a midnight blue dress shirt. “You look beautiful, luv.” Transfixed by the woman in front of him; his lover, his girlfriend…his future wife, Spike’s eyes tingled with unshed tears, which he immediately choked back, not wanting to give Buffy any clues about what he was planning for the night. Taking her by the hand, he said, “The bride will be jealous of you tonight. ‘s not nice, stealing her thunder by being so breathtaking.”

“I’m fairly certain that Anya won’t notice anything other than herself tonight; which is expected, being the bride and all. Just hope she doesn’t scare Xander too much!” Buffy chuckled.

“You’re right about that, the whelp was looking a tad pale at the tuxedo fitting the other day. Afraid he may have caught a slight case of cold feet.” Opening the car door for her, he waited for her to slide in and added, “Course, he knows how lucky he is, I imagine they’ll be perfectly happy once the big show is over.”

“I hope so.” Buffy muttered, having her own doubts about her best friend. He had seemed a little odd the other day; of course, spending time alone with Spike often caused him to act strangely.

Spike shut the door and walked around to the other side, patting his pants pocket to make sure the velvet box was safely tucked away before sliding into the driver’s seat. His hands shook with a heady combination of nervousness and excitement as he drove them to the church for the ceremony rehearsal. Glancing sideways at Buffy, he noticed her staring back and forced himself to wipe the shit-eating grin from his face. ‘Don’t need her figuring things out beforehand. Ruining the surprise and all.’ He thought to himself. Feeling the intensity of her gaze, he asked, “What?”

“You’re acting weird.”

“According to you, I pretty much always act strangely, luv.” He replied with a smile, keeping his eyes on the road. “Course, you know anything pertaining to a wedding makes a man act a bit off, yeah?”

“You guys are weird.” Buffy replied, her hopes dashed at his answer. She had been secretly praying that he would ask her to marry him soon, but anytime she brought up anything about a wedding or marriage he got this painful look on his face. Glancing at the clock, she cried, “Crap, already two minutes late. Anya’s probably freaking out!”

“No worries, luv. Here, you go ahead and go inside. I’ll be in after I park the car, yeah?”
Slowing down so she could get out, he waited until she was inside before finding a parking spot. Locking the doors, he dashed across the parking lot and slipped inside as the rehearsal was starting and quickly slid into a spot by the Giles’s ; earning an evil look from the bride to be.

“Everything set for tonight?” Rupert asked quietly.

“Yep, got the ring in my pocket.” Spike replied, patting his pocket. “Plan on heading out to the beach after dinner and popping the question…silly bird hasn’t got the slightest idea what I’ve got planned.” Turning his attention back to the front of the church, his eyes connected with Buffy’s and he smiled. “I still cannot believe that I’m the lucky bastard that gets to spend the rest of his life with her.”


THE END...



**song by Divinyls...not me**