Chapter 1

She was alone in the dark. Her boots dangled idly, inches above the uneven ground as she sat on an aging headstone. The sight of her brought Spike to a complete halt once he emerged from his crypt. His mind started to race, bombarded with questions. What was she doing in his cemetery? Was she waiting for him? For someone else? Did she need help? Would she even accept his help if he offered it?

Swearing, Spike slipped behind the nearest tree. He hated hiding, but he wanted to take advantage of his good fortune. It wasn’t everyday that he stumbled across a Slayer in his backyard. His eyes hungrily studied her body from head to toe. She was beautiful, sitting peacefully under the clear starry sky. Her hair was perfect, her coat perfectly hugged her curves, and her trendy jeans—although he couldn’t make them out clearly, Spike knew they were a perfect fit.

His imagination ran wild as he stood, paralyzed and unable to tare his gaze away. He thought about approaching her, about charming her with some witty comment. He considered sneaking up behind her and giving her a good scare. Once pulling her hair and calling her names came to mind, Spike chuckled quietly, perversely amused by the lengths he’d go just to be near her, just to get her attention.

“Spike, could you be anymore of a bloody lovesick fool?” he wondered out loud. Disgusted with himself, he turned on his heel. He left his crypt behind, determined not to waste another thought on the Slayer or her insufferable perfection.

As he traveled through the cemetery, he became aware of footsteps close behind him. For a passing moment, his dead heart tightened, intrigued by the notion of the Slayer at his heels. However, the steps were far too heavy. His follower was too loud to be Buffy, and he definitely wasn’t graceful enough to be likened to a Slayer on the prowl. And apparently, he was in need of an entourage. One set of footsteps became two, and soon, Spike was certain of a faint third. They were a persistent group; Spike wasn’t able to lose them. He led them on a twisting and turning path, around mausoleums, through thick trees, and intentionally into a dead end.

“I don’t know about you lot,” he began, staring ahead at the tall stonewall that fenced in the cemetery. “But I’m growing tired of this cat-and-mouse game. I say,” he made a cool and collected one-hundred and eighty degree spin, “we move to the part where I--.”

Before he could finish, a fist collided with the side of his jaw. “Alright,” he said, shaking off the blow, “you all want less talk and more action, I can appreciate that.”

He easily ducked and dodged the men’s frantic kicks and punches. He snickered at the weak, lousy competition until his foot landed in the stomach of the first man. Then there was nothing but pain. He couldn’t enjoy the man’s look of surprise as he flew through the air and collided with the side of a mausoleum. Spike could only grab his head as he collapsed onto the ground.
***

It was the last place she wanted to be—sitting, twiddling her thumbs as she waited outside of Spike’s crypt. She had other things to do, and other places to be, but Buffy couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go down.

Over the past few days she had heard pieces of rumors. Nothing had made much sense, but Spike’s name had been mentioned more than once. And when Spike was causing trouble, Buffy found herself involved—whether she wanted to be or not.

Although she’d rather die than admit it, Buffy felt responsible for the annoying vampire. He was one of her oldest enemies and often the biggest pain in her ass, but he was fairly harmless and she couldn’t justify killing the guy. He made stupid and sometimes dangerous mistakes—he drank too much, he smoked too much, and he made too many deals with the wrong people—but he wasn’t hurting anyone. He couldn’t hurt anyone—not humans anyway; the chip in his head made sure of that.

And it was nice sometimes to have him around. It was another fact that Buffy hated to admit, but he was…useful. It was much more convenient for Buffy to beat information out of him than it was for her to travel from sleazy bar to sleazy bar.

He was a good fighter too. Since they had been occasionally working side-by-side, Buffy found herself silently admiring his strength, speed, and impulsive behavior. He was fighting for the wrong reasons—purely for the sake of a good fight—but in the end, genuine good came from his actions, and Buffy couldn’t deny that. Deep down, she knew he wasn’t a complete lost cause.

So once she overheard a couple of goons bragging about how Spike was going to pay on Tuesday night, it was a great deal of curiosity and a tiny—just the tiniest—bit of concern that brought her to the cemetery. If he needed help, she might offer him a hand, but that wouldn’t happen until after she knew the facts. If he deserved “to pay” for his latest stupid mistake, then Buffy was fully prepared to sit back and enjoy the show.

But nothing was happening. Over an hour had passed, and the cemetery was still quiet, Spike hadn’t even left his crypt, there wasn’t a single goon in sight, and Buffy was getting impatient. She fought back the desire to leave Spike to fend for himself three separate times before he finally appeared, wearing his usual all-black attire. Buffy tried not to look in his direction, but from the corner of her eye she watched as he noticed her, and he stumbled, nearly tripping over his own two feet.

“Moron,” she snickered under her breath. Her amusement grew once he attempted to shield his body behind a tree as he peeped. She tried her best to remain casual and seemingly unaware of his presence, but it was difficult. She could feel his eyes as they raked over her from head to toe. It made her uncomfortable, it elevated her heartbeat slightly, and it made her entire body…buzz?

Before she could analyze her condition, Spike was on the move. And he was moving fast, stomping his way through the wooded area. By the time Buffy got to her feet, she caught only a glimpse of his long coat as it floated out of sight. Not entirely eager to come face-to-face with the vampire, she waited a full minute before following him deeper into the cemetery. While keeping her pace brisk, she searched between the trees for Spike’s always-noticeable head of bleached blond hair. She assumed that he was on his way toward downtown Sunnydale. She really couldn’t think of anywhere else worth going on a late Tuesday night. She was nearly out of the cemetery once she heard Spike let out a growl. Or did it sound more like a sob? Regardless of what the noise was, it was coming from Spike and it was coming from behind her, from a corner that she had passed by not long ago.

“He’s walking in circles?” she mumbled, finding his course of travel unsettling. He was trying to throw someone off his trail. And Buffy knew there was a very large chance of that someone being her. He could be playing a game, or setting some kind of trap, or—she froze, hearing him cry out again—he could be in real trouble.

“He’ll pay on Tuesday,” she reminded herself with a sigh before taking off in a run.

“Hey!” she called out, seeing at least three figures. One man was holding Spike down to the ground, while the other hit him again and again. A sour taste flooded Buffy’s mouth, realizing that he wasn’t fighting back. Spike wasn’t trying to defend himself.

“Hey,” she repeated, standing between the two goons once it became apparent that she was being ignored. “What’s going on? What—” she faltered, finally getting a better look at Spike’s bruised and bleeding face. “God…what did he do?” she finished softly. “Spike?”

He didn’t respond, but the goons did. Although her eyes refused to leave Spike’s crumpled form, she knew that she was now the center of attention.

“You know this guy?” one of them demanded.

Buffy didn’t hear a word. Her elbows shot out, plunging into two flabby stomachs at the same time. One man fell, and the other was soon to follow. Both were left gasping for air.

“Humans, Spike? You ran out of your own kind to annoy, so now you’re pissing off humans?”

Spike didn’t say a word. He made no sign that he knew that Buffy was there, that she was with him and coming to his rescue.

“You so owe me,” she whispered while pulling an unconscious Spike to his feet.
***

Chapter 2

Spike opened his eyes once, and he was convinced that he was lost in an elaborate dream. But then, he opened his eyes again, and again, and she was still there. Buffy was helping him walk. Buffy was allowing him to lean against her. Buffy was offering him a bed to collapse on, and—here comes the best part—Buffy was touching him. She had already removed his shirt and she was inspecting his bruises. Her fingers were soft, warm, and unbelievably gentle. Spike kept his eyes closed as she cleaned his bloody nose and spilt lip. He pretended to remain unconscious, but he was aware of her every breath, the flowery smell of her hair, and the way her weight just barely sank into the edge of the mattress. Her leg was crossed, a knee was pressed against his hip, and it thrilled him that she didn’t seem to mind the contact.

Maybe she’s had a change of heart, he thought optimistically. Maybe we’ve developed some kind of special bond. She’s never been like this, generous, warm, even compassionate--.

“You stupid vampire,” she grumbled, immediately shoving Spike out of his rose-colored fantasies.

“I hope this is worth it,” she continued. “I hope whatever you stole, or whatever amount of money you never paid back, I hope it—God, what am I doing? Scolding a guy who can’t even hear me?”

She sighed heavily, and Spike heard her move objects on the nightstand. Things were thrown in the trash, and he guessed that she was tidying up. He guessed that she was getting ready to leave.

“Buffy?” His eyes flew open. His voice cracked. He hated how weak he sounded, but he hated that she was on her way out of the room even more. “Where am I?”

She turned to face him, her arms loaded with an assortment of bandages and disinfectant. “The guestroom,” she answered after a moment. “In my mom’s house.”

They stared at each other, both at a loss of words. Spike swallowed and opened his mouth, but Buffy decided to speak again.

“I’m not sure how it got there, and I don’t want to think about how long it’s been in there, but I found a bag of blood in my mom’s refrigerator. It was all the way in the back, right next to the polar bear that’s filled with baking soda, which is completely bizarre and totally disgusting. Since you’re awake, I’ll warm it up.” She paused before adding, “The blood, not the, uh, polar bear baking soda thing.”

“Of course,” he answered with a hint of amusement. “I understood what you were saying.”

“I’ll be right back. I need to put this stuff away.”

“Take your time, pet.” As soon as he let the term of endearment slip, he regretted it. Buffy’s eyes narrowed into angry slits, and he bit the inside of his cheek, prepared to suffer from her wrath.

“Just stay awake, alright? Promise me that you’ll stay at least semi-conscious until I come back.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Because I will not feed you,” she declared. “I refuse. We don’t even have straws, so I’m not going to--.”

“You’ve done enough. I don’t expect you to do more,” he mumbled. He wanted to say more, but confronted with her irritated glare, he chose to remain silent.

“Yeah, well…”

“Take your time, love,” Spike whispered after she took off down the hallway.
***

He was still awake when Buffy returned. In fact, he had situated himself into a sitting position.

“Guess I’m not looking too hot,” he said once she stood at his bedside.

“You look terrible. Like death, but worse. I’d give you a mirror, but…” she shrugged and handed him a mug. “Use the potholder. It’s hot. Be careful, the last thing I need is another mess to clean up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she asked, taken off guard by his quiet apology.

“Being a mess.”

“Oh.” She looked away once his lips curved into a somewhat pitiful smile. He was acting so strangely. He was being friendly, polite…decent, and it was making Buffy’s skin crawl. “I—let me get a chair from the dining room,” she said, desperate to get away if only for a minute.

“What’s wrong with where you were sitting before? It’s a big bed, you know.”

“I will not,” she stopped and took a deep breath. Now he was acting like the Spike she knew, the Spike who was always pushing her buttons. “Let’s not do this. For one night, can we not do this?”

“Do what exactly?” he asked. It might’ve been her imagination, but Buffy stiffened, hearing what sounded like a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t bite,” he continued, “but I don’t have to remind you of that. Not after this evening. Hell, my head is still throbbing.”

“You hit one of them?”

“I hit the taller git so hard, God, my shoe almost went through that sod’s gut.”

“You’re boasting? Spike, I know your brain got a few electric shocks tonight, but you were beat up. You lost the fight.”

“Hey now. Don’t give them credit when it isn’t due. It was the chip that brought me down. If those bastards had had just one drop of demon to them--.”

“But they didn’t. They were human.”

Even with a swollen eye, Spike managed to shoot her an annoyed glare. “I noticed.”

“So,” Buffy reached for the mug once he downed all the blood, “what did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Spike,” she began sharply. “Come on, you owe me an explanation. I dragged you here, I invited you into mother’s house, I--.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he interrupted. “I didn’t do anything. I was followed. I don’t know why. I’m completely in the dark here, and about everything apparently. I’m still trying to wrap my head around you being outside my crypt earlier.”

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“Well, that’s funny. You’ve always made a point to avoid my neighborhood before tonight.”

“It isn’t important. Why I was there…it just isn’t important. Don’t worry about it.”

“You were watching me,” Spike insisted. “I’d almost say,” he paused to search her blank expression. “I’d almost say that you were watching over me…like you knew that something was about to happen.”

“I—damn it, I won’t lie. I heard a few rumors. Your name was mentioned along with Tuesday night, so I--.”

“Instead of telling me, instead of warning me, you decided to lurk in the bushes,” he stated confidently as if he’d solved a puzzle. “How long did you watch before—is that why I’m here? You’re feeling guilty?”

“Why would I feel guilty?” she shot back defensively. “I didn’t hit you.”

“You didn’t stop it either,” he accused, his voice raw with emotion.

“Aren’t you being a little overdramatic about this?” she asked, feeling uneasy. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Since he was her enemy, she was used to hurting him physically, but she hadn’t hurt his actual feelings before. Before that very moment she wasn’t even aware that he had feelings to hurt. He was a vampire, a creature of darkness, your typical run-of-the-mill evil thing.

“How would you feel if you were in my position? Damn it, you should’ve told me.”

“Spike, we are not friends. We’re enemies. We hate each other.”

“Then why am I here? Why are you taking care of me?”

“I’m not,” she flinched.

“You’re not? Then what do you call this?”

She scowled at him, angry that he wasn’t backing down. “I’m not a monster. You were hurt and helpless. I would’ve done the same for anyone.”

“But for anything?” he stressed. “I’m a vampire--.”

“With a chip. That makes you helpless, just like a…a stray neutered puppy!” she exclaimed. After the chip had been implanted by the Initiative, nothing had made Spike more upset than when she and her friends taunted him for being unable to bite humans. She knew she was playing dirty, but at least she didn’t use a word like flaccid. She would spare him that much…for now.

And as she expected, Spike’s face grew dark. He mumbled a line of curses as he untangled himself from the blanket Buffy had draped over his legs.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving. This puppy isn’t a stray; he has a fucking home,” he growled as he stomped around the bed. “Where’d you put my shirt?”

“I threw it out,” she answered with a defiant shrug. “It was disgusting.”

“Right. I’ll be sending you the bill for it then.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and followed him to the front door. “Your crypt isn’t safe.”

“I’ll take my chances. I’d rather be there than here with you. If I’m near your shoddy Mother Theresa routine for another minute I’ll puke.”

“So this is what I get for being nice to you? A temper tantrum?”

Spike turned, his hand on the doorknob. “If this is your definition of ‘nice,’ love, we need to get you a dictionary.”

“I—don’t call me that!”

“I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

Buffy heard him chuckle after she slammed the door shut.
***

Chapter 3

Spike got as far as the driveway before collapsing against the tree in Buffy's front yard. Leaving had required an astounding amount of energy, but he couldn't be near Buffy for another moment. He didn't have the patience, especially in his weakened state. His head was pounding furiously. The pain from his cuts and bruises was barely noticeable; it was the places where Buffy had touched so tenderly that were giving him fits. He could still feel the warmth of her fingertips on his torso, arms and face. It was driving him crazy.

She was driving him crazy. She infuriated him, she confused him, and he couldn't get enough. Even after his grand exit from her house, he wanted to go back. It was a toss up; he wasn't sure if he wanted to strangle her or crawl on his knees and beg for forgiveness. One thing was always constant though; he wanted her. He wanted to kiss her harsh sarcastic mouth, to feel her unbelievably strong legs wrapped around him. He wanted to leave her speechless, defenseless-he wanted
her to feel helpless for once. If she could feel just a fraction of what he felt on a daily basis...

With a new but quickly diminishing burst of energy, Spike forced himself to make the walk home. The usual ten-minute trip took three times longer. He pushed open the heavy doors of his crypt with every intention of falling on the couch and staying there for days, but his plans were interrupted by a breathy gasp that transformed into a loud sympathetic coo.

"Oh my God! Spiiike, you look terrrible!"

Please, no. Not now, he thought with a cringe.

"Harmony, ah, what a pleasant-oh fuck, I can't. Harm, what are you doing here?"

She came at him, dressed head-to-toe in bubble gum pink. Harmony, his very own sad excuse of a Buffy look-a-like. She was about an inch too short, and her hair was all wrong. At least she fit in similar clothes...sort of. She was a tad curvier, but Spike couldn't find real complaints with that. She was vampire, so it really didn't matter if she couldn't breathe in the Slayer's size two leather pants.

"I really don't need a reason to visit, do I, Spikey?"

"Yes."

"Oh, you! You're so silly," she giggled. She wrapped a hand around his arm and guided him toward the bed. "Can I get you anything, baby? Ice for your eye? Something to eat?"

"Harm..."

She hummed softly as she tucked the blankets securely around his body. "Do you need something for your head? Do you still have those pills?" Not waiting for an answer, she kissed his forehead and bounced to another part of the crypt. "Spikey, where'd your shirt go? Not that I miss it-you wear way too much black. I keep telling you that you should let me shop for you. Are you free tomorrow night?
The mall is having this amazing sale."

"Harmony."

"Yes?" she answered sweetly. In flash, she popped pain relievers into his mouth, helped him drink from a glass of water, and pressed a bag of frozen food against his swollen eye.

"What can I do for you?" she cooed before climbing on the bed and snuggling into his side. "Oh, my poor baby. Those jerks were so mean to you! Stupid humans. At least they avoided your face...a little. But vampires don't scar, right?" Smiling, she ran her fingers through his hair. "Spike, you've missed me, haven't you?"

Without considering his injuries, Harmony wiggled her way on top of Spike's body. "I've missed you so much. Let's never fight again. You'll get over your crush on the Slayer. I'll help you. Hey, I used to love Luke Perry, and I got over it."

And then she kissed him. She closed her eyes and covered his mouth with hers, still caught up in her one-sided delusions of their reconciliation.

"Oh, Spike," she gasped, not realizing or caring that he wasn't kissing her back. It was during the second kiss when Spike pushed her away. She fell off the bed with a startled cry.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?"

"Get out." He wasn't in the mood to raise his voice. "Now, Harm, and don't come back."

"B-but, but-why?"

"You must really think I'm an idiot. Oh, but wait, I am for bringing you home that first night after one too many shots of tequila."

"But-why are you being so mean?"

"You ratted yourself out, you moron. My head? The humans? God, I can't believe you hired those thugs! What did you pay them in, peanuts?"

"I don't know what you're--."

"They leaked your evil plan. It was all around town."

"What? You knew?" Harmony asked, suddenly angry. "You so did not know!"

"No, I didn't, but the Slayer did."

"No way!" She jumped up like an enraged kitten. "How could she know?
I told the guys to keep it on the down-low!"

"She knew," Spike chuckled, enjoying Harmony's distress. "She even
came to my rescue."

Harmony's eyes flashed and her lips twisted into a frown. "I hired them so you'd forget about her! You made me so mad! She's all you ever think about! You and your stupid sex games, making me dress like her in those hideous clothes-you're my boyfriend, you're not supposed to hurt my feelings like that!"

"I was your boyfriend," Spike corrected. "Harm, when I said it was over, I meant it."

"But I was supposed to nurse you until you were better. You were supposed to realize how much you needed me."

"Sorry, pet," he said, although he struggled to muster up a genuine feeling of sympathy. His head was killing him, and her scheming was the reason behind the pain.

"But Spike, I love you," she whimpered.

"Get out."

"But...but..."

"You can find better, alright?" He rolled over and closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see her tears. "I appreciate the effort, really I do, but you deserve better."

"Heck yeah, I do!"

"Go, and I suggest you go far, Harmony. I have no problem killing vampires, especially after the shit you pulled tonight. And if you even think about coming after me and mine again--."

"You won't have worry about that! You-you slayer loving freak!"

Spike had to snort at that. She'd hit the nail smack-dab on the head. "Goodbye, Harmony," he yawned. "Shut the door on your way out, will you?"


***

The morning began normally. Buffy woke up twenty minutes before her alarm. She showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and a comfortable t-shirt. It wasn't until she was getting her breakfast that Buffy realized that she was in a horribly bad mood. It was her sister that kicked it off. Buffy was raiding the refrigerator when she heard Dawn clear her throat.

"So," Dawn said, just barely stepping into the kitchen. Although she was usually asleep for another hour, she was wide awake and fully dressed. "What'd you do to Spike?"

"Mom and I heard you arguing with him," she continued. Her hands were on her hips. "He was hurt; you couldn't have tried to be nice to him? You had to bitch him out?"

"Since when did you become Spike's protector?" Buffy left the refrigerator, no longer interested in searching for food. She matched Dawn's stance and started to stare her down. "You hardly even know the guy."

"I know him! We watched TV together last week!"

"Excuse me?"

Dawn's face paled slightly, but it didn't stop her from provoking Buffy further. "Mom said I could go, and she also said that I could see him today. I'm going this morning before school."

"No."

"Mom said I could."

"Well, maybe I should go upstairs and change mom's mind," Buffy ground out.

"Don't." Dawn stepped in front of Buffy before she could leave the`kitchen. "She's not awake yet."

"I'm sure she is after all the yelling you just did."

"Please, just let me go," Dawn begged, her voice suddenly sweet. "You can come with me if you want. We'll go together."

"No."

"Why not?" she demanded, all her sweetness gone in an instant.

"Because I have no reason to see him, Dawn."

"You don't care about him at all?"

"Why do you care about him so much?"

"He-he doesn't treat me like I'm a twelve-year-old!"

"You're fourteen, Dawn, I don't think there's much of a--."

"He's nice to me!" Dawn interrupted. "He's cute and he's funny and--."

"Cute? You think Spike is cute? My God, do you have a crush on him?"

"If I did, it wouldn't matter," Dawn said, rolling her eyes. "He's a total hottie and I like him, but," she shrugged, "he's in love with somebody else. And besides, he's way way too old. I just want to check on him, alright? And I'm going no matter what you say. Mom said I could, last night, she promised."

"Damn it," Buffy whispered, her nostrils flaring. She couldn't let her sister go to Spike's crypt alone. She shouldn't be going there at all, but Buffy knew better. If Buffy didn't take her, she'd do something drastic. She'd skip school and spend the entire day fussing over her new idiotic crush. The thought alone made Buffy fume
just a little more.

"If we're going, we're going now," Buffy announced. "Get your coat. We'll pick up something to eat on the way."
***

"What happened to him exactly?"

"You mean you didn't hear all the juicy details when you were eavesdropping?"

"No."

"He was beat up."

"I figured that much, Buffy. Why was he beat up? Who beat him up?"

"A couple of guys. Human guys," Buffy added. "I don't know why they were after him, but it was planned out. They followed him, waited for him to strike first, and they took advantage of his chip."

"So, he couldn't fight back?"

"That's right," Buffy replied as she and her sister walked through the cemetery.

"Why'd you bring him home? I mean, if you don't care about him, if you hate him so much, why'd you bring him to our house?"

Buffy didn't answer. She started to walk faster.

"Buffy!" Dawn whined. She had to jog to catch up.

"No more questions, Dawn. I just want to get this over with. We don't have time to..." She froze, seeing a heap of charred remains outside of Spike's crypt. "Dawn, stay back."

"But-but what about-God, he isn't--."

"Stay back," Buffy demanded. With the tip of her shoe, she moved through the pile. She didn't see any dust, so she gathered that Spike was still among the living.

"Buffy...is that your shirt?" Dawn tiptoed closer and pointed at the ground. "Aren't those pictures of you? Hey, those are the jeans you accused me of stealing last week!"

Buffy didn't respond. She couldn't form words as she looked down at the pile. Spike's belongings-broken CDs, pages from books, and even food from the refrigerator-were mixed with her own stuff. His black shirts were tangled up with mementos from her room.

"Dawn, go home," she was able to say a minute later.

"Why? What are you going to do? What about Spike? Are you sure he isn't, well, in there?"

"Don't worry about Spike, because if he's alive," Buffy paused, finding underwear that had magically disappeared from her laundry basket days ago. "I'm going to kill him."
***

Chapter 4

"Well, well, if it isn't Dorothy and her big sister, the wicked bitch of the west. Would you care to take a seat on the rubble? It's much more comfortable than it looks."

"Spike."

A smile tugged at his mouth. "From that tone, I'm guessing you saw the bonfire out front. Impressive, isn't it? Hell hath no fury, you know."

"Buffy, um, is he drunk?"

Spike looked from sister to sister. What a pretty pair they make, he mused. Even furious, Buffy was breathtaking. And Dawn, she was looking and acting more like her big sister every time he saw her.

"What can I do for you girls this morning?" As he sat in the recliner-the only piece of furniture that Harmony had left nearly untouched besides the bed that he'd been sleeping in-he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. "I doubt you're here for a social call."

"How's your head?" Buffy asked, her voice cold.

"Not quite pounding, it's moved on to more of a dull unbearable ache."

"Are you drunk?"

"No, Dawnie," he winked. "Unfortunately, I'm completely sober."

"Did you do this?" Dawn wrinkled her nose and gestured to the wrecked crypt. "You couldn't have, right? The TV was kicked in, and all your music was destroyed. You wouldn't have ruined your own stuff."

"It wasn't all his stuff," Buffy corrected. "And I'll give you ten seconds to explain just why in the hell you had my--."

"Spike, I guess we'd better tell her the truth," Dawn interrupted with a nervous laugh. "I-I've been taking your stuff, and Spike's been hiding it for me-me and mom. And it was supposed to be a surprise, you know, for your birthday?"

"You were going to give me my own stuff?" Buffy asked, clearly not believing Dawn's story. "For my birthday?"

"Mom saw it in a magazine. We were going to make a kinda-you know, when you take stuff and, um, bury it in a hole in the backyard? A..a...you know what they're called, right?"

"A time capsule," Spike blurted out, deciding that Dawn was a genius hidden in a fourteen-year-old's body. "I told her it was bloody pointless. Slayer's with their short expiration dates, and all."

"I was going to get Xander and Willow and everyone write little notes and--."

"Why my clothes?" Buffy looked directly into Spike's eyes. "Why my clothes?"

"So, when you open it ten years from now you'll have proof that you didn't always wear clothes with sizes in the double digits," he rattled off without skipping a beat. If Buffy wanted to challenge him, he'd meet her head-on. "Because let's face it, Slayer, you won't have that figure forever. You've already been blessed with the Freshman Fifteen, and--."

"Spike." Dawn bugged out her eyes and pinched her lips together. Apparently she thought falsely accusing Buffy of gaining weight was not the best strategy if they wanted to get out alive and with all their limbs intact. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"You want to lie for this guy, Dawn? If I go home, talk to mom, and--."

"Do it," Dawn said confidently. "Why else do you think she let me come here last week? To watch TV?" She pffted and rolled her eyes like an award-winning actress. "Please. He was just keeping the stuff safe. It was all mom's idea in the first place."

The crypt was silent for the next few minutes. Spike tried to look calm as Buffy weighed the validity of their story.

"If I find out that you're covering for him... I swear to God, Dawn..."

"Like I would. Why else would he have your stuff? It's not like he's your creepy stalker or anything. Hello," she snorted. "He can barely stand you, right, Spike?"

"Of course I can't," Spike answered without hesitating. At that very moment, he could kiss the bottom of Dawn's feet. "Hate her so much I can barely see straight."

"The feeling's mutual," Buffy said, crossing her arms. "I guess you should start talking, tell me what happened last night, and quickly, Dawn needs to go to school and I need to talk to my mom before she leaves for work."

"Don't believe us, do you?" Spike asked. He had to push her just a little more, he couldn't stop himself. "Are you calling us liars, pet?"

"You? Always."

"And what about your sweetheart of a sister?"

As if taking her cue, Dawn smiled sweetly.

"I'll decide later, after I talk to my mother."

Dawn's smile faded. "Spike, uh, who wrecked your house?"

"I don't know," he lied. He'd been drowsy from his medication when he found Harmony breaking everything in sight. She had fled before he could get his hands on her. He didn't try to chase her down, more concerned with the literal flaming pile of mess that she'd left in his front yard.

"You don't seem to know much of anything lately."

"True," he said. He ran his fingers through his hair and sank more deeply into the recliner. "There's no use denying that."

"We should take him home. He'll be safe with us, Buffy. Last night, mom said--."

"I don't want to hear another word of what mom said, not unless she's standing in front of me, alright?"

Spike just watched as they argued. In all his years, he had never witnessed such stubbornness. Buffy ignored all Dawn's pleas. She turned down all her offered incentives.

"Bit, before you promise her your first born, hold on a minute. I'm fine here."

"But what if they come back?"

"I'll be alright. I've gotten this far, haven't I?"

"He's a cockroach, Dawn. He always manages to scurry away."

"Thank you. I'll be taking that as a compliment, Slayer."

"You'll be okay? Really?" Dawn asked.

"Of course, pet." He smiled at the younger girl and found it refreshing when she smiled back. Now, he thought, if only her sister wasn't so bloody difficult... "Maybe if big sis allows it, you could help me clean this place up. I could use another set of hands, a feminine touch."

"Buffy? Can I?"

"You want to clean? You hate chores," Buffy answered.

"Maybe she wasn't in good company before." He winked at Dawn again, and this time she looked away with blushing cheeks.

"Spike-Dawn, it's time to go."

"Why? It's still early."

"You need to get your backpack. Go."

"You're not coming with me?" Dawn raised her brow. She looked suspiciously from Buffy to Spike, and then back to Buffy. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing. Your best friend, Spike and I are just going to have a little talk."

"You can go, sweet bit," Spike said with another dazzling grin. "I'll be alright."

"Okay, but..." Shyly she tucked her long brown hair behind her ears. "I'm glad you weren't turned into dust, Spike. I'm glad you seem better too. And I'm sorry Buffy's such a major bitch. I'm starting to think she can't help it."

"Dawn."

"I'm going," she said. She stuck her tongue out at Buffy before giving Spike a wink of her own. "Bye guys. Buffy, don't hurt him."

"What is with her today?" Buffy wondered out loud once Dawn was out of sight. "When did she start worshipping you?"

"She's a cute kid," Spike chuckled.

"That's right. She's a kid. A kid with a crush."

"On me?"

"Don't look shocked. I was standing right here. I saw it all. The winks. The smiles. It was turning my stomach."

"It was all harmless. I wouldn't worry about it. She likes the attention. She--."

"Do I need to threaten you?"

"W-what? No."

He shifted uncomfortably. Buffy was walking toward him with a strange look in her eyes. She came all the way up to the recliner and rested a hand on each of the chair arms.

"If you hurt her, if you allow her to get hurt in any way..."

"I won't-I-I wouldn't!" he practically cried. Her emerald eyes were piercing into his. She was flooding his senses. She was all he could see, hear, and smell. "What's this all about? She's your sister, you don't think that I'd--."

"You'll protect her."

"Yes," he answered. "Of course."

She blinked twice as if she were coming out of a trace. "Good."

"Good? That's it? I know you're protective of the girl, but bloody hell! What's going on? You're acting like she's in danger, and--." He was about to tell her that Dawn had nothing to fear when it came to him, but he saw Buffy flinch. Anyone else would've missed it, but Spike caught it right away. "Buffy?"

Something was seriously wrong. Without thinking, he covered her hand with one of his own. She looked at their touching skin with wide eyes, but she didn't move away. She didn't move a muscle.

"You can tell me," he whispered. "Whatever it is. I can help. I'll protect her. Just tell me what we're up against."

"It's complicated."

"Buffy." He kept his voice gentle. "Tell me."

"Who trashed your house?"

"Harmony," he replied, completely under her spell.

"Harmony?" She blinked. The tiniest smile curved her lips. "Harmony? The same Harmony that I know?"

"She hired the humans last night as well."

"Wow. I'm...wow, I'm speechless. I'm totally...impressed."

"You're not the only one."

Buffy stood up straight, and before Spike could mourn the loss of their closeness, she smiled. It was the widest, most genuine smile she'd ever made in just his company. And it was followed by a fit of adorable giggles.

"What'd you do, dump her? God, she so beat your ass! You look like road kill, your place was trashed and torched, and Harmony's behind it all. Maybe being with you did her some good," she said wiping a tear from her eye. "I get what you said earlier. Hell hath no fury like a Harmony scorned."

"Will you stop?" He wanted to sound annoyed or at least offended, but he couldn't. He chuckled right along with her.

"Why did you lie to me? Was it the embarrassment?"

"Mortification is more like it."

"But still, you should've told me."

"Guess that makes us even."

His comment sobered her up, but she her temperament was nowhere near as dark as it was when she had entered his crypt. "Is Harmony still a threat? Do you think she'll come back and dust you in your sleep?"

"If she's smart, she left town."

"Remember, we are talking about Harmony. She and the word ‘smart' don't exactly go hand-in-hand."

"If I've learned anything about Harm--."

"You mean, besides her cup size?"

"She's paranoid," Spike continued. He was amused by Buffy's interruption, but he chose to ignore it. "She's probably long gone since I threatened to kill her. You glared at her once a few weeks back, and she was convinced you were behind every corner, stake in hand, and ready to pounce."

"Maybe I should've been. Then we wouldn't have had to go through all this mess just because she got dumped."

"Hey, getting dumped is always hard." Spike spoke from experience. Drusilla had left him more times than he wished to count.

Buffy nodded in agreement. It was a short and barely noticeable nod. She had always been the one left behind, and Spike never understood why. He hated each of her ex-boyfriends: Angel, Parker, and especially Riley, the latest jerk to break her heart.

"I should go," Buffy said suddenly, taking a step back.

"So, Dawn has your permission to come here? After school and whatnot?" It a gamble to bring up her sister again, he wasn't sure how she'd react. He just wanted to keep her talking so she'd stay.

"Yes."

"If you need to talk, about anything..."

"I just need her kept safe," she answered, looking uncomfortable, "and I know you can do that. What happened with Harmony was a one-time thing. Are you...feeling any better?

"Much actually."

"I know that I said, that you were helpless, but..."

"Forget about it," he said. He usually liked to see her squirm, however he didn't like seeing her act so uneasy. Was it that difficult for her to apologize to him? He was surprised to hear her apologize at all, but he didn't like that she looked miserable doing so.

"I didn't mean that you were helpless all the time," she continued. "When we're up against demons...Spike, you're the strongest ally I've got...when you are my ally."

"Buffy--."

"And I suggest you stop flirting with my sister, she's fourteen for heaven's sake!" Buffy exclaimed as if her batteries had been recharged. "She already likes you, are trying to make it worse? If you keep acting this way, who knows when she'll get over her crush."

"Having a crush isn't so bad. I'm flattered. It's better me than some poof like Xander."

"Xander's human, and he isn't old enough to be her great-great grandfather's grandfather."

"Yeah, and he's a complete idiot too."

"And you're Einstein?"

"No, but-you can't dictate a crush, Slayer. Your heart and your-your other parts make that decision. Your brain, your common sense, has nothing to do with it."

"You're so lucky you didn't go into detail about my little sister's ‘other parts.' So, so lucky."

"No, I," he mumbled a curse. He hadn't been talking about Dawn. "Never mind. Didn't you ever have a crush? What about that guy? Harm, mentioned him. Luke something-or-other?"

"No."

"Fine," he grumbled, positive that she was lying. He'd been around long enough to know that every preteen and adolescent on the planet suffered from at least a crush or two. "It doesn't matter. Just keep in mind that people don't always have a choice, not when it comes to those kinds of feelings. It might be stupid or even taboo, but it happens, damn it." Take me and you for instance, he was dying to say.

"Crushes happen, okay, I get that. But I still don't approve."

"They aren't meant to be approved," Spike said. He was losing his temper. Why wasn't she listening?

"Oh yes, when it comes to my sister--."

"I wasn't talking about your sister," he snapped. "I was making sweeping statements. I was speaking about infatuation in general."

"Okay, let me make some sweeping statements too. Unrequited love is bullshit. Life's too short. Don't waste your time making mooneyes at some crush, especially when you have no chance. And since my sister has no chance with you, she should get over her crush, and quickly."

"Have you always been this bitter, Slayer?"

"Have you always been such an emotional sap?"

Spike snorted. He ran his fingers through his bleached blond hair. "Well, I wasn't called William the Bloody Awful Poet for nothing, pet."

"Oh yeah, sometimes I forget how unbelievably lame you are."

"Were."

"Whatever. Just stay on your best behavior when you're around Dawn. No more flirting and take it easy on the teasing. She already hangs on your every word."

"And just how much will she be around?"

"Every day after school until I come by to pick her up."

"And will there be an hourly wage for all this baby sitting?"

"No. You owe me. I helped you last night."

Spike thoughtfully touched his thumb and forefinger to his chin. He liked Dawn; spending time with her wouldn't be terrible. The little chatterbox had already spilled a great deal of precious information about her sister when they had watched television together the week before. She had also let it slip that their mother, Joyce, had been sick a lot lately. And Spike didn't mind helping out Joyce. She was nice lady who had been kind to him in the past. And if the Slayer had a reason to come by every night, even if it were just five days a week...

"Well, I will have a lot more time on my hands since Harm's gone," he shrugged.

"Or at least you think she's gone. We'll be making sure tonight."

"We?"

"You're going to take me to all her usual haunts. I want Dawn completely safe, and she won't be if Harmony still out for your blood."

"I don't think she would have the guts to," he stopped. What I am doing? he thought. "You're absolutely right. I know of some people we can talk to. I know where we can go." If Buffy wanted to spend time with him, he wasn't going to ruin everything by saying that Harmony would never hurt Dawn. Hurting a close friend or family member of the Slayer's was like suicide. Sure it ruffled her feathers, but it didn't make her weaker. It made her stronger and it royally pissed her off-Spike knew that from experience.

"Dawn will come by after school. I'll pick her up at sundown and we'll walk her home. Then we'll look for Harmony, alright?"

He nodded. He waited until Buffy left his crypt to crack a smile. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and eagerly waited for their upcoming date.
***

Chapter 5

"For the last time, we are not going on a date."

"I don't know, Buffy. You did change your clothes."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're trying to look your best."

"No."

"Spike, doesn't Buffy look nice? Doesn't her outfit look a lot more attractive than that old pair of jeans and unflattering t-shirt that she wore to school today?"

"Spike?" she twisted to look back at him as they walked down the sidewalk together. "Hello? Earth to Spike, can you hear me?"

"I can hear you, Dawn, but you won't be hearing a peep from me. Nice try though. Regardless of my answer, I'll be stuck with a pissed off Slayer for the rest of my evening, and I'd like to avoid that. If that's even remotely possible," he finished in a mumble.

Hearing him clearly, Buffy turned to give him a glance of her own. Their eyes met for only a moment until she nudged Dawn and told her to keep walking. "Leave him alone. He gets in enough trouble without your help."

"I was just trying to make conversation," Dawn said with a not-so-innocent shrug.

Spike remained silent for the rest of their trip. He kept his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat as he followed a few steps behind the chatty Summers girls. He didn't need Buffy's flirty black dress pointed out to him; he'd been greedily devouring the view of her backside and tan bare legs since they'd left his crypt.

"How long will you crazy kids be out?" Dawn asked as they reached the Summers' residence. "Should mom and I wait up?"

"No, I want you both in bed and asleep by the time I come back."

"Is Spike going to stay over night? We did a lot of work this afternoon, but his place still isn't livable."

"It's a good thing he's dead. Come on," she said, looking back at Spike. He nodded and filled the place at her side. "I'll see you in the morning, Dawn. If you have any problems, call me or anyone in the gang."

Spike watched the younger girl go, and then he asked, "Do your friends know about your deep, dark, and complicated secret?"

"Spike, I will not--."

"Settle down, I don't expect you to. Just answer me one thing: does Dawn know?"

"No-she can't-no, she'll never know."

"Alright, okay," he said gently. His fingers itched to comfort her. He dug them deeper in his pockets. "I just wondered if you've given her a heads up, that's all."

"She knows to stay away from trouble, but if she can't, she knows to run. She'll find me."

"And me."

"Or you, or Giles, or anyone else."

"So Rupert knows. Did Riley?"

"Spike--."

"Hey," he shrugged, "I'm just trying to keep your secret safe, pet. I won't let anything slip to your friends."

Buffy stared at him before mumbling a quiet ‘thank you.'

"Does this-I know I'm overstepping, but-does this have anything to do with the gigantic snake that was let loose on the town last week? What about that Glory bint?"

Buffy froze. "H-how do you know about her? What do you know about her?"

"Nothing. Calm down. You aren't the only one who can overhear bits and pieces of information, and before you ask, I heard her name from you and your mates."

"You were eavesdropping?"

"How else can a bloke get his daily news, but that doesn't matter. Is Glory after Dawn?"

Buffy's silence spoke volumes, but it was nothing compared to her expression. Whoever or whatever Glory was, she had the Slayer scared and that made Spike's blood run colder than usual.

"Let's go." He reached forward and touched her upper arm. He was careful and incredibly gentle, uncertain if she'd snap at him. The last thing needed was to lose a finger. "Harm's an annoying little gnat, but she won't take long to squash. In fact, if you like, I can go alone. You can stay with your sister. It's my fight anyway."

"No, I need to go. I need the distraction."

"Well, if Harm's good at being anything, she's brilliant at being a distraction."

"That's a terrible thing to say about your girlfriend, even she's Harmony."

"Harm and I, we were never a love match. She might've been head-over-heels, but I merely tolerated her."

"You used her."

"Well...yes. I used her."

"No wonder she torched your place. Where are we going?" she asked once she started to walk along the sidewalk again. She stared ahead and rubbed the area where Spike's fingertips had grazed.

"Sorry about infecting you like that."

"Excuse me?"

"Your arm. I touched it, and now you're rubbing it like you're hoping that it'll fall off. Like you've been infected with cooties or some other imaginary disease that kindergartners give each other."

"You should've kept your hands to yourself. Spike, you didn't answer my question. Where are we going?"

"The mall. Harm's been rattling on about a night owl sale since-God, I don't know when."

"You're sure it's tonight?"

"Positive. She wouldn't shut up about it. If she's in town, she'll be there."

"She'd stay and risk her life over a sale? What store is it?"

"Some department store. I'll know when I see it. It should be the only store open because the sale doesn't even start until nine."

"But," Buffy frowned down at the cell phone she had tucked in her pocket, "it's barely seven."

"She went to this restaurant a lot. It's a French place. The girl's obsessed with Paris. I thought, if you were hungry, we could grab a bite."

Buffy froze again.

Spike had to turn around and walk back to where she was standing. "What's wrong now?" he asked.

"You want to have dinner? Together?"

"She goes there a lot," he said, avoiding her questions. "Constantly-every night really."

"Is there a movie theater that she frequents too? Because while we're there we can catch a movie, right? Wouldn't that be convenient? Dinner and a movie. Spike, what the hell are you doing? Was Dawn right? Is this a date?"

"No, no. A date," he chuckled nervously. "We're looking for Harmony. Besides Harm hated going to the bloody movies. Couldn't sit still long enough, and she'd get the munchies. You know, all those bodies in that dark room."

"Is this a date?"

"No," Spike said as strongly as possible.

"You're just offering to have dinner with me?"

"Well, I-you bloody-well have to eat, don't you? It's not that uncommon, people share meals all the time!"

"Not when they're enemies!"

"We're not enemies, you-you dunce! You helped me last night, and now I'm supplying you with free daycare! It wouldn't be completely insane if we elevated our relationship to something that at least resembled a friendship!"

"You want to be friends? Are you crazy?"

"Yes. I'm completely mad, and I'd like to be your friend. I should be deeply ashamed, but I'm not. I can't beat you, so," he shrugged, "so I might as well join you. And what's a better way to kick off our turning over a new leaf than with dinner?"

"Does Harmony really go to the restaurant that much?"

"Yes. She adores it. It's a tiny place and the décor is cornier than hell, but the food's good. She finds it romantic."

"We'll go there, but I won't eat there. We are not ready for some cozy French café."

"Alright, I understand. We spent awhile arguing so--."

"I'm not a big fan of French anyway, but I could always do Mexican," she grumbled. "Or Italian, or...whatever."

"You're serious?"

"As serious as I can be, because I've completely lost my mind."
***

Chapter 6

"We're not ready for a cozy French restaurant, she says, but we are apparently all set for the delicacies of fine-food-court-dinning."

"It's dirty. It's noisy. It's well lit. I can't think of a place any less romantic. Eating at the mall was a perfect idea."

Before Spike could put down their tray of food, Buffy cleaned off the table with a napkin.

"Why bother cleaning it? Let's find a different table."

"You honestly think you can find better? That one," she said pointing to her left, "is covered in barbecue sauce, that one is just sticky, and the one next to it is covered in--."

"You could've just told me to sit down and shut my gob, you know."

"I know," she shrugged. She sat and separated her salad from Spike's hamburger and fries. "Shit. They didn't mark the drinks."

"Just try one."

"What if it's the wrong one? I don't want to use your straw," she said, wrinkling her nose. When Spike started to chuckle, she gave him an irritated glare. "Fine, if you don't care, why should I?"

"This table's wobbly," Spike announced. "One of its legs is too short." He gripped the sides and rocked it side to side. "That's going to be obnoxious."

"Only if you keep moving it like that." She unwrapped two straws, popped a straw through each lid, and took a sip from the first Styrofoam cup. "Gross. This is yours."

She quickly swapped the two straws and pushed the cup across the table.

"I'm glad we got that sorted out," Spike said, accepting the drink with smirk.

"Just shut up and eat."

"As you wish." He opened his burger and dumped the carton of fries on the plastic tray. "Want to share?" he asked.

"Do you have any idea when that tray was cleaned last?"

"No. Do you?"

"That's disgusting."

"Well, there's paper on bottom, and it was perfectly spotless. Want to give it a good rubdown with your napkin just for good measure?"

"No," she replied, picking through her salad while refusing to look at him. He was making fun of her, and she did not appreciate it.

"Is that any good, your salad?"

"It's okay." It was less than okay. Most of the lettuce was yellow or wilting. She had already picked off the sorry-looking cherry tomatoes and the pieces of cucumber that she had never developed a taste for.

"We can still share. I've got a knife. I won't even touch the thing until you cut it in half."

Buffy hated that she was tempted by his offer. She looked from her meal to his and sighed. "Give it to me."

"You've never struck me as a girl who'd get squeamish about germs, not with your line of work and all."

"Regardless of who I am, or what I do, I will not voluntarily eat on or near crud. I used to spend a lot of time in the mall. I know how often they don't clean up around here."

"If you find the food court so repulsive, why are we here?"

"I already told you why," she said. She handed him half of the sandwich and took a bite out of the other half. "This is actually pretty good."

"I'm glad."

"The food court is convenient," she continued. She covered her mouth with her hand as she spoke with her mouth full.

"Especially since we're not on a date."

"Exactly."

"And if we were seen by anyone, say, one of your friends, at least we aren't at some place fancy. Then it'd be much more difficult for them to believe that we aren't dating."

"Whoa, dating?" Buffy nearly choked. "Who said anything about dating? Anyone assuming that we're on one date is bad enough, but dating? That means that more is to come, and-hell no. That isn't happening. Ever."

"Alright, forget I said anything." Instead of growing impatient, he grinned. For being so quiet earlier, he seemed to be in a very good mood.

I bet he feels better, Buffy thought, and for some reason that made her feel relieved. His face was still shaded with healing bruises and fading cuts, his eye still looked swollen and sensitive to the touch, but he was acting far from miserable.

"I might be mistaken, but I didn't think it wasn't uncommon for people to come to the mall on dates."

"Those aren't people, those are easy-to-please preteens. Once a girl reaches a certain age, she wants and expects more."

"Such as?"

"Such as what?"

"What do you want and expect, Buffy?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"What else is there to talk about?"

"We don't have to talk about anything. We're supposed to be eating."

"I'm not hungry," he said waving a dismissive hand toward the food. "You can have more if you'd like, help yourself while you tell me about your ideal dream date."

"I'm not telling you a word."

"Would it be quiet and romantic? Maybe it'd be fun and casual? Or would it involve finding a bed and not leaving it until late the next morning?"

Buffy stared at him as if he'd grown two heads and a tail. Either he was teasing her or he was suffering from a bad case of boredom. Buffy refused to think for one minute that he actually wanted to know something so personal. If it had been anyone else she might've disclosed her love of quiet nights at home coupled with ice cream, a good movie, and a great deal of cuddling. But this was Spike. Clearly he was asking just to make her uncomfortable and that was not going to happen. She'd wipe the smug look from his face.

"Why don't you answer your own question?"

"You want to know? Have I piqued your curiosity?"

"No, but there's nothing else to talk about, right? I won't be answering your question, so you'd better for the sake of our conversation."

"Wouldn't want that going to hell."

"No," Buffy added dryly. "So what'll it be? Romantic, fun, or completely sex-filled?"

"Oh, completely sex-filled of course."

Why did he suddenly look like a lion showing his teeth? Buffy wondered. Does he want me to be impressed by that macho, pig-headed answer?

"I'd have to agree with you. Remember when Riley and I were possessed by those sexually repressed teens?"

"God, don't remind me. That was a sodding freak show."

"That was probably the best date Riley and I ever went on." Buffy smiled at the memory. "We were just so into it. We were completely lost in the moment-well, it wasn't a moment, it was hours upon hours. It was amazing."

Spike's swollen eye twitched every time Buffy mentioned Riley's name. She knew Spike had never liked Riley, but it was ridiculous. "Riley and I," she paused to laugh. "Spike, what the hell is wrong with your eye?"

"I have no bloody idea." Now that didn't sound like a happy Spike. "Maybe you should check it out for me."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"Please," he said. It wasn't a question; it was more like a demand. Buffy wasn't about to be ordered around, but she found herself lifting from her seat. Against her better judgment, she took his face between her palms and gazed into his blue eyes.

"My God," she mumbled. Had they always been so beautiful? They were just blue; they were prism-like. Blues, violets, even hints of silver...

"Buffy?"

"Yes," she swallowed. His face was still cradled in her hands.

"Does it look alright?"

"Huh?"

"My eye, pet. Does it look alright?"

His voice just startled her further. Damn that tone, she thought. Damn his stupid sexy accent.

"Buffy, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, and your eye's fine too." Without thinking, she gave the puffy skin a poke.

"Ow! Bloody hell, woman!"

She flinched. Her hands flew away as if she'd been burned. "Sorry, I-God, I don't know why I just did that," she whispered. People around them were staring as Spike continued to curse. "Be quiet. Stop yelling."

"I can yell if I bloody-well feel like it! You stabbed my fucking eye! My black-fucking-eye!"

"I didn't stab it, you baby. I poked it a little," she answered defiantly.

"Why?"

"I was, um, checking to see if it was healing correctly. I didn't think you'd cry out like a big girl."

"You could've warned me-but wait, I forgot, you don't have the decency to warn a bloke. Crazy bitch," he grumbled. He scooted in his chair, eager to increase space between them.

"You aren't seriously going to sulk about this, are you? I told you that I was sorry."

"And did you mean it?"

"Yes," she said while slipping back into her chair. She had lost her appetite. Her heart was pounding and she couldn't sit still. What was wrong with her? In the past two minutes she had used both ‘beautiful' and ‘sexy' to describe Spike, her worst enemy-no, they weren't enemies now, they were friends. Buffy laughed out loud.

"Your laughter doesn't make your words very convincing."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It smarted."

"I'm sure it did."

"And you're sorry? Truly?"

"Yes. I'll make it up to you."

"Really?" he asked. One of his brows lifted with interest.

"Within reason! God, what are you thinking about in that twisted head of yours? Do I even want to know?"

"No."

"Spike!" she hissed. She tried not to raise her voice. "What is wrong with you? Just how hard were you hit yesterday?"

"Not hard enough. Are we done here? Would you like to keep your drink, or shall I throw everything away?"

After shrugging, Buffy sat and watched as he strolled across the food court to the trashcans.

"Got to say, I approve of the new boyfriend."

Buffy's head whipped around to the pleasant female voice. She was a tall, slender, dark-haired girl whose face looked vaguely familiar.

"He isn't my boyfriend," Buffy said. No matter who the girl was; Buffy wasn't going to let her believe that Spike was her boyfriend, not even for a second.

"Then is he your brother or something?"

"No, he's-who are you?"

As the girl laughed, Spike returned to the table. "Who's your friend?"

"I was just about to find out myself," Buffy replied. "I'm sorry, but should I recognize you?"

"I'm Jade," she girl offered. When that failed to ring any bells, she continued. "My boyfriend was a part of Riley's frat. We talked at a few parties...?"

"Oh-oh, Jade!"

"You still don't remember me, do you? Damn, and here I thought I made a lasting impression." Jade smiled and put her hand out toward Spike. "I've seen you around campus, but only at night. It's about time I learned your name."

"Spike," he said, taking her hand.

"Spike? Seriously?"

"It's a nickname. It's stuck over the years."

"Night school must be a real drag. Do you work during the day?"

"I do."

"Shoot. Then I guess that means you go to bed early."

"Sometimes."

Buffy stood. She couldn't watch anymore. She was flirting with him! He was flirting back! If she had to see him smile one more time, if she had to witness one more girl throwing herself at him... "I'll be right back, I need to--."

"I hope you can stay up this Friday night," Jade continued, not caring if Buffy came or went. "Do you work weekends? My roommates and I are throwing this party. It's a costume party. We'll supply the costumes, the food, and drinks. You should have Buffy bring you by."

"I'll do that," Spike answered. When Buffy cleared her throat, he added, "If I can fit it in my schedule. You know, school, work, going to bed early...it can eat up a lot of a guy's free time. Can't it, love?"

To Buffy's horror, he was looking directly at her when he winked.

"Buffy, I totally approve of your new boyfriend!" Jade cackled. "He's adorable! Can I keep him?"

"He's not--."

"Until Friday, Buffy. Spike, I'll see you around!"

"She was friendly," Spike commented after returning Jade's wave. "Why didn't you remember her?"

"I meet so many bimbos at school, it's hard to tell them apart."

Spike blinked, and then he added. "I'd think she'd stand out. Especially with that laugh."

"My ears are still ringing."

"You're attacking her. Why?"

"I'm not fond of her, that's all. And you shouldn't be either. Her boyfriend put that chip in your head."

"I wouldn't hold that against her. Did I hold it against you?"

"Yes," Buffy answered, narrowing her eyes.

"Right." He scratched an eyebrow with his little finger. "Well, you don't have to worry about that any longer."

"Because we're best buddies," Buffy snorted. She rolled her eyes and started to weave around and through the mass of scattered tables and chairs. Spike followed her every step of the way until they were out of the food court.

"You're mad again," she heard him mumble in her ear.

"I've been mad all day," she answered without looking at him. They continued to walk aimlessly through the mall. "I woke up in a bad mood and it's been different variations of rotten ever since."

"And it gets worse whenever I'm around." She didn't have to agree, because he was apologizing before she could get another word out. "I'm sorry about that. Pissing you off hasn't been my intention, not as of late."

"Why not? Why have you had this sudden change of heart? Is it because of last night? Do you feel like you owe me something? You don't. I didn't do much. I know I said you owed me, but that was just so you'd help me protect Dawn."

"I'd do it no matter what. She's your sister."

His reasoning set a shiver down Buffy's spine. Surely he wasn't being serious. Surely he was withholding his ulterior motives.

"Why does that matter?" she asked. It came out in a whisper. She couldn't control the volume of her own voice.

"Because you matter," Spike answered. "Because you matter to me, Buffy."
***

She froze mid-stride.

Oh, here it comes, Spike thought. If we didn't make a big enough scene earlier...

"Buffy? Hey, we're keeping up traffic."

She didn't say a word. She didn't move. She glared.

"Sorry. Sorry. Excuse us," Spike mumbled to the shoppers who were forced to walk around them. "Pet, can't we at least move off to the side? We're getting caught up in the bloody stampede."

To his relief she left the middle of the mall. Instead of heading out of people's way, she went right for one of the exits.

He followed her outside and quickly found himself cornered by the angry Slayer. His back was pushed against the side of the building. They were in a dark corner, but they definitely weren't away from all roaming eyes and ears.

"I should matter to you for only one reason," she said while keeping her voice remarkably quiet and steady. "I'm keeping you alive, Spike. Do you think Harmony's scary? I won't play games with you. If I want you dead, you will be dead."

"But you don't want me dead."

"Excuse me?"

It was one of those moments where Spike was certain his mouth had a mind of its own-a very dim-witted mind. "Like you said," he continued, "if you wanted me dead, I'd be a big pile of dust, but here I am."

"Not for much longer."

"Please," he chuckled. You need me around more now than ever before."

"Do not push me, Spike."

"Just why are you pissed now? Is it because I said you mattered to me? You have no idea! I hate to break it to you, but that's just the tip of the fucking huge iceberg!"

"What...what?"

He growled out of frustration. The tension between them was crackling like lightening. If he didn't get away from her soon, he'd do something drastic. "You're either the stupidest, most simple-minded girl on the planet, or you've got the most extraordinary case of denial--."

"Spike, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He stopped listening. His fingers were actually trembling. He wanted to touch her so badly. He couldn't think clearly. He closed his eyes, and just as Buffy started to walk away, he grabbed her. His fingers dug into her upper arms with just enough force to keep her grounded.

"Don't," he rasped.

"Are you trying to get another headache? One black eye isn't enough?"

He closed his eyes. He silently counted to three.

One.

Two.

"Let go. If you don't let go, I'll--."

Three.

He leaned in and did the unthinkable. He gave his beloved Slayer a kiss.
***

Chapter 7

Lips collided with the corner of her mouth, her upper lip. He had missed the lower one, and Buffy assumed it was because his eyes were squeezed shut. However, seconds later, once his mouth fully clamped over hers, she wasn’t so sure that he’d made a mistake. His kisses were deep, impatient and extraordinarily thorough. Every stroke from his probing tongue was precise and deliberate. He knew exactly what he wanted. He knew exactly what he was doing; he was trying to swallow her up whole.

Buffy strained, she tried to pull away from his demanding mouth, but that just caused him to yank her closer. Hands were everywhere, on her waist, the small of her back, and tangled in her hair. She was molded against him, forced to rest against his body. With his height only a few inches above her own, she was determined to ignore the fact they fit together perfectly. Hip-to-hip, chest-to-chest, and nose-to-nose.

“Stop,” she managed gasp. “Stop it.”

She had to get away. She twisted her head out of his reach and groaned once he lavished her cheek, her chin, and down her neck with velvety soft kisses.

“Spike, this is crazy. Get off.” Her fingers clutched handfuls of his hair. She planned on prying him off, but once his eyes locked with hers, all her plans were shot to hell. She held on tightly as he launched a second attack. These kisses were different. They were slow, tender, and almost sweet.

They made Buffy’s heart ache. It didn’t matter that her arms were wrapped around Spike’s neck. She moaned. She trembled. She kissed him back, completely dazzled. She loved the way he made her feel. She felt beautiful, cherished. She hadn’t felt so treasured since the last time he kissed her nearly a year ago, when they were both victims of a spell that had them convinced that they were engaged. And now, with no magic on which to blame their actions, a flash of fear interrupted her pleasure.

“Spike,” she began, jerking her mouth away. “Stop.”

“You’re amazing.” His eyes were sparkling. He smiled at her. “You taste so sweet, Slayer.”

“Spike.” He was too close. She was still cuddled in his arms and uncomfortably aware of the leg that he’d nudged between her knees. “Let go,” she said, pressing her hands against his chest. Mindful of the wounds she’d cleaned the night before, she applied just enough force for him to know that she’d hurt him if it were necessary. “Now, Spike.”

“Alright, alright.” He released her and stayed slouched against the wall of the building. “I’m sure you want to talk about this.”

“No.” She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to run, to hide until every kiss was nothing but a distant memory.

“But we need to talk about this, Buffy. We kissed.”

“We’ve kissed before. It wasn’t a big deal then, and it won’t be a big deal now.” She shrugged, but her heart was pounding.

“Well, that’s bullshit. This is a very big deal. There wasn’t a spell involved. You kissed me back. You enjoyed it just as much as I did.”

“You’re wrong.” She wished she sounded more confident. “It was a mistake,” she said. She walked backward until she was out of their dark secluded corner. “It’s almost nine. Harmony--.”

“Harmony can wait. I couldn’t care less about Harmony.”

He followed her out of the shadows. Buffy was surprised by how disheveled he looked. His hair was messy—thanks to the trail marks left by her fingers, and his shirt had been pulled and stretched—again she was at fault.

“Shit,” she muttered, her hands went up to smooth her hair. If he looked that tousled, she must look terrible.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said. “You look beautiful. You’ve got more color in your cheeks. Your lips are full, just like two…two lips,” he finished with a roll of his eyes. He made a point to stop himself before he said anything too pathetically poetic. “You’re glowing, Buffy. You should be kissed more often. It suits you.”

Buffy melted—but only just a little. He didn’t have to be so flattering…

Stop it, stop it, she thought as her heart continued to pound. This is Spike. Spike.

“I should be kicking your ass for touching me.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you a minute ago.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, you bonehead.” It was one of her weaker insults, but it’d have to do. “A few kisses don’t change anything--.”

“A few more will.”

“No,” Buffy said. He took one step forward and she took three steps back. She cursed silently, finding herself in their dark corner once again, but this time she was up against the wall with her arms stubbornly crossed.

“I knew this’d happen. I knew if you’d let yourself go, even for one bloody second, you’d act exactly like this. Fine, be that way. Act as high, mighty, and as bitchy as you want. It won’t make a bit of difference, I’ll feel the same way.”

“And what way is that? Stupid? Entirely suicidal?”

“Why should I bother enlightening you if you haven’t figured it out already? Perhaps I should show you. Maybe it’ll sink in this time?”

She did nothing as he moved closer. He cupped the side of her face. The pad of his thumb gently stroked her cheek. He studied the curves of her scowling mouth, and Buffy glared at him the entire time.

“You’re all I ever think about, you know.” His voice was low and seductive. “Dru, Harm, they all saw it before I did. I was the last to know.”

He kissed her lightly and bit his lower lip once he pulled away. He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but Buffy could feel a mixture of excitement and relief radiating from his body.

“You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve imagined this. Even in my fucking dreams you would’ve kicked me in the head by now.”

“That can still be arranged.”

He chuckled. He took her face in both of his hands as if he’d never held anything so precious.

And then he kissed her.

And she kissed him back.

He uncrossed her arms; he made sure no space was left between them. He held her wrists as he playfully brushed and rubbed his lips against hers. He took his time, turning and twisting so he could get a taste at every angle.

“Buffy, I love you.”

Her eyes popped open. She didn’t even know she’d had them closed. Surely, he didn’t--.

“God, I love you so much.”

Oh God, oh God, she thought, her mind racing. She wanted to scream, suddenly mortified and flooded with self-loathing. Without a second thought, she shoved him away. Hard. Taken off by surprise, he fell to the ground with a grunt.

“Stay away from me,” she spat.

“Alright, maybe I shouldn’t have--.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have.” With the back of her hand she wiped away his kisses. “I shouldn’t have. This whole evening has been a total joke!”

“Come on. It hasn’t been so bad.”

“It’s been worse.”

“Well, that’s rot and you know it,” he said while picking himself off the ground. “We talked. We had actual conversations--.”

“Yeah, we also fought, argued, and I got your tongue shoved down my throat.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Buffy. If you’d give us a chance--.”

“Us?” she snorted as if she hadn’t heard anything more ridiculous. “There is no ‘us.’ There will never be an ‘us.’”

“Never say never,” he mumbled while patting imaginary dust from his jacket. “You’ll be a fool in the end.” He looked down at his boots for a moment before allowing their eyes to meet. “We could have something here.”

“Other than a potential disaster?”

“Something other than that,” he sighed. He rolled his eyes and his hands found their way back into his pockets. “Guess we should call it a night. There’s nothing I can say or do, right? You’ve shut down. I’m talking to nothing. I might as well be talking to the bloody—to the bloody wind!”

“I couldn’t agree more. Go away.”

He shot her a dirty look before turning his back. He didn’t go far before he stopped abruptly. “This will not go away. Deny all you want, play pretend—make believe that nothing happened if you must, but I will see you tomorrow. And the day after that. And it’ll be awkward, maybe even painfully so, but I will try to kiss you again.”

Buffy’s eyes grew wide. Her nose flared and she swallowed

She watched him until he stalked across the mall’s parking lot and out of sight.
***

Chapter 8

Buffy was on a mission. She needed a distraction and she really hoped to stumble across a distraction that she could punch. She wanted to punch a certain blond chatterbox, but since she’d had enough of Spike for one evening, she decided to take her chances with the next best thing.

“Can I help you find something?”

“No, I’m just looking. Thank you though,” she said with a smile to the passing saleswoman.

She thumbed through a bin of cheap, gaudy lingerie while she tracked Harmony’s every move. She patiently waited as Harmony went from rack to rack and bin to bin. She collected a few articles of clothing with every pause.

“Sorry, Harm, but that’s not your color.”

At the sound of Buffy’s voice, she squeaked. Her mound of clothes, including a bright lemony-yellow top fell to the carpet with a quiet plop.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to startle you. Let me help.” She walked around Harmony to crouch near the pile. “Harm, aren’t you going to give me a hand?” she asked sweetly.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you.”

“Why? I didn’t do anything.”

“Of course you did. Don’t act innocent, it just makes you seem dumb.” Buffy stood and handed Harmony the overflowing pile. “And you’re not as dumb as you let on. Unless someone helped you. Did someone help you with your scheme to terrorize Spike?”

“He-he hurt me! He--.”

“One act of vengeance I can understand, but you’re going too far.”

“Why do you care? Is he your boyfriend now?”

“Oh no. Worlds of no,” Buffy answered sharply. “He could never be my boyfriend.”

“You should tell him that,” Harmony snorted. “This is all your fault, you know. We were happy. We were in love but then you stole him away from me. He was going to take me to Paris.”

Buffy’s hands found her way onto her hips. “It’s not my fault he’s demented. I’ve beat up the guy on a weekly basis for three years. He should hate me. He used to.”

“Oh but he loooves you now. Buffy this and Buffy that—no offense, don’t stake me—but I get queasy every time he mentions your stupid name. I was right in front of him, willing and always ready. I gave him everything. I gave and gave and gave, but he only wanted you.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Buffy mumbled. She was lost in her thoughts and thinking out loud. “I don’t want this. I don’t want him.”

“Well, he’s all yours now, girlfriend. He and I are so done. I’ll never take him back again. I know three’s usually a charm, but no way, not for us.”

“God, just how many times have you gotten back to together?” Buffy asked. She couldn’t believe that she and Harmony were chatting in the middle of the lingerie department, but she couldn’t help it. For some reason she was hungry for information about the bleached blond pest.

“More times than I can remember. He can be such a creep.”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“He could be sweet too. Early in the morning, when he was half asleep, he’d act so sweet and romantic. He’d hold me, he’d be gentle, and attentive to all my needs, if you know what I mean.”

“Harmony, I don’t want to hear about this.”

“But then he’d always mess everything up by calling me Summers or Slayer or--.”

“Stop! Shut up, Harmony!” she hissed. Her stomach was doing somersaults.

The sharp tone of her voice caused Harmony to step backward. “I’m sorry,” she whined softly. “Please don’t stake me. I’m too young to die again.”

“I want you out of town. Leave and don’t come back. And if I see you around Sunnydale, I won’t be so friendly, do you understand me?”

She nodded frantically. “I’m already packed. I just couldn’t miss this sale. Has…has Spikey been talking about me? Is he afraid of me, is that why he sent you after me?”

“He’s annoyed, Harm. You’re annoying him. And he didn’t send me after you--.”

“You’re defending your boyfriend, I get it. I bet he’s a better boyfriend to you anyway, since he loves you so much. Barf,” Harmony said. She wrinkled her nose and dramatically stuck her finger in down her throat.

“He is not my—Harmony, just leave us alone.”

“You want to shop some more? Being a vampire can be lonely. I haven’t shopped with anyone in forever. I can give you some more dirt. Ask me anything about him. Did you know he’s totally obsessed with--.”

“I can’t. I need to go.”

“Well, okay. I’ll see you later—oh, no I won’t, will I?” she laughed. “Oops.”

“Harmony.”

“Okay, okay, don’t get huffy. I’m going. Tomorrow, I swear.”

Buffy nodded. She started to walk away, but Harmony tried to call her back.

“Hey, wait! I’m sorry about setting your stuff on fire! I was just so mad, you know? Anyway, I hated torching your jeans—they were comfy and they made my butt look so good. I’ve been meaning to ask you, where’d you get them?”

Buffy swallowed her anger and continued to walk.

She wore my clothes, she fumed silently.

Spike had a lot of explaining to do.
***

The key to his Slayer’s heart was at the end of a long and bumpy road. Spike could almost see it. It was blurry and far far off in the distance, but at least he could make out a glimpse. It was enough to give him comfort.

He wasn’t dim-witted enough to believe that he could make the dangerous trip alone. He’d need help. His Slayer adored her friends and family, so with a few of them on his side, his expedition into the unknown would become much smoother.

His first speed bump, however, involved the fact that he couldn’t stomach her friends. Willow, Tara, Anya and especially Xander—he couldn’t stand any of them in large doses.

Her family, on the other hand, he liked. Her mother and sister had always treated him fairly. With them, he felt more like a man and not the monster that Buffy ran to whenever times were rough.

But he wasn’t sure if they’d be enough. He had years of brawling, insults, and backstabbing to make up for. Not only would he have to get Buffy to forgive him, he’d have to get her to actually like him.

Their evening together gave him hope. He found it unbelievable that they were all over each other like horny teenagers, and not just once, but twice.

Of course that didn’t mean she liked him. She just didn’t hate him enough to plunge a stake in his heart either. Instead, with two sessions of passionate kisses, she was wrecking havoc on his heart in other ways.

He went to her house early the next morning in search of payback. He hoped to give her heart a flutter. He rang the doorbell and waited patiently for someone to answer. The sun was almost up and he hadn’t brought a blanket to hide under. If he wanted to make an impression with his Slayer, he couldn’t do so while cowering under a bed sheet.

He heard noises through the front door. Bolts were moved out of place, the doorknob turned, and he found three sets of eyes staring at him.

“Good morning, ladies. I realize it’s early, but can I come in?”

“Of course,” Joyce said, opening the door wider. She was dressed in a long nightgown and matching long robe. She looked pale and a tad weak, but she had a bright smile on her face. “Come in. Are you hungry, Spike? Dawn and I are just about to make some waffles.”

Before answering he looked to Buffy who was frozen halfway down the stairs. “If it’s alright with you, I’d love to stay for breakfast.”

“Oh, who cares what Buffy thinks,” Dawn interrupted, coming from the entrance to the kitchen. “I need another guinea pig. How do you think Skittles would taste in waffles? Good, am I right? Hey Spike, what’s in the bag?”

“You mean this bag?” As he gestured to the plastic bag hanging on his wrist, Buffy continued down the stairs. She ignored him and disappeared into the kitchen. Like her sister, she was wearing pajamas. “Just some flowers.”

“For Buffy?” Dawn wrinkled her nose. “Why? What’d she do to deserve flowers?”

“Dawn,” Joyce scolded lightly. “Spike, you’re very sweet. Let me find a vase. Should I get Buffy for you?”

“The flowers aren’t for Buffy, not all of them. These,” he pulled out a bouquet of white flowers, “these are for you.”

“Oh…you shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have. Where are my flowers?” Dawn asked.

“Here you are,” he said, handing her the second bouquet. “They’re bubbly and bright, just like you, bit.”

“Thanks,” Dawn smirked. “But you’re lame, you know that don’t you?”

“Dawn, don’t be rude. I can’t remember the last time I was given flowers. Thank you,” Joyce said warmly.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad someone appreciated them,” he said, giving Dawn a sideways glance. “Those flowers are from the heart, nibblet. They are a token of friendship and gratitude--.”

“And bullshit.”

“Buffy!” Joyce gasped.

“Don’t worry, mom. I’m just passing through. I’ll leave you guys to your breakfast. Give Spike my share of the waffles.”

“Wait. Buffy, we need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she said without giving a Spike a glance. She continued up the stairs with a bottle of juice, a cup of yogurt and a whole bagel in her hands.

“But—Dawn, take this for me, will you?” Spike gave her the plastic bag. “She won’t want her flowers. You and Joyce can have them.”

“You’re going up there? Honestly?”

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

Dawn gave him a look. “Do I have to say duh?”

“Wish me luck then.”

“Oh, you’re going to need a lot more than just luck,” Dawn mumbled as Spike made his way to Buffy’s bedroom.
***

Chapter 9

The door to her bedroom was wide open, but Spike chose to remain in the hallway. Although Buffy was nowhere in sight, her breakfast was arranged on the dresser, and that was enough to keep his boots planted. Buffy didn’t need to catch him alone in her room.

However, nothing could stop his eyes from wandering toward her bed. It was practically demanding his attention, with its scattered pillows and twisted sheets.

Spike had never seen a space look so inviting. To crawl into that bed, with the Slayer curled at his side…

“What are you doing? Get out of my room!”

“I’m not in your room,” he said, though he took a step back. He turned to find Buffy standing directly behind him. Just the sight of her made his body tense up. Her frowning face was free of all makeup. Her hair was charmingly tousled. It required all his self-control not to scoop her into his arms, carry her to the bed, and keep her there for days.

“It looks as if someone had a rough night.” He cleared his throat and acted nonchalant as he closed his long jacket.

“Go away, Spike. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Is that so? Then maybe you’ll keep those pouty lips of yours buttoned while I talk to you.”

Instead of letting him speak, Buffy stomped around him. She charged into her room and slammed the door behind her.

“Well, that—that’s just bloody uncalled for!” He yanked the door open and followed her to the middle of the room. “That would’ve been much more effective if you would’ve locked the blasted thing. You do realize that, don’t you?”

“The door doesn’t have a lock. I live with a teenager,” Buffy snapped as if it explained everything.

“Just what did I do now? Why are you pissed off? Is it because I brought you flowers, or are you still bent out of shape because we kissed?”

“Get out.”

“Joyce liked the flowers. Didn’t you see her face? No, of course you didn’t, you were too busy cowering in the kitchen. She was all smiles, pet, and with teeth I might add. From what Dawn’s told me, Joyce hasn’t been smiling much nowadays, so I thought some flowers might cheer her up, and they worked remarkably well.”

“What’d she tell you?” Buffy demanded with a note of panic in her voice. “She has no right. Dawn has no business talking to you about our mom! She should’ve kept her big mouth shut, we—we don’t even know anything! Nothing has been confirmed! She’s undergoing a few tests; that’s all. She’s going to be fine. She is fine.”

“Alright… I’m sure she is,” Spike mumbled. “Slayer, not to sound daft, but who’s going through tests? Is it your mother or your sister? Which ‘she’ are we talking about here? I’m on a need-to-know basis, meaning I know next to absolutely nothing--.”

“Good,” she answered hastily. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“Buffy,” he sighed. He knew they weren’t on the best of terms, but it smarted, knowing that she refused to confide in him.

Well, if she wouldn’t volunteer the information, he’d get it out of her another way.

“I’m bound to find out eventually,” he shrugged. “I can ask around. Maybe your friends will know, or there’s always sweet Dawnie. I’ll bat my eyes at the girl, she’ll tell me everything. And there’s Joyce. She and I get along just fine, we’ll have a little chat and--.”

“God, why do you even want to know? You couldn’t care less about my family!” she accused. “You’re using them to get to me! If I told you that the doctors aren’t sure why my mom’s been fainting and suffering from bad headaches, what would you do? Send her a fruit basket? Then would you run to me and say, “Gee, Buffy, did you see what I just did?”

“Hold on, you’re not being very fair--.”

“Because I know how you like to use people,” she continued in a biting tone. “Of all the disgusting, vulgar--.”

“Please tell me you aren’t going on about a few sodding flowers--.”

Before he could finish, she was jumping forward to smack his cheek with an open palm. Spike just blinked, stunned by the sudden outburst of violence. “I’m sure I deserved that. Would you care to enlighten me on exactly why I deserved that?”

“You let her wear my clothes!” she exploded. “You probably forced her to do it! You called her my name, you-you,” she gave up on talking and made a frustrated noise that was between a growl and a grunt.

Spike caught her wrist before she could slap him a second time. “You’ve had a talk with Harmony.”

“Did she lie to me? Is spreading rumors the next step in her Being Evil for Dummies handbook?”

She thrashed from side-to-side, desperate to be released from his grasp, but Spike wouldn’t let go. He wrapped his free arm around her back and crushed her body into his. “I didn’t force her,” he said quietly, directly into her ear. “I never forced her. I told her when we met that she reminded me of you.”

“Were you out of your mind?”

“She looked like you.”

“Were you blind?”

“No, just drunk. Now stop squirming.”

“Let me go! You—you’re pathetic!”

“Yes, but only when it comes to you. You jumble up everything: my head, my insides,” he shook his head and chuckled softly. He tried to look Buffy in the eye, but she purposely turned her head. “I love you,” he said. “Ignore me, but I’ll love you whether you like it or not. And Harmony, she knew what I wanted. She stayed willingly. No complaints were made from her, not until after I dumped her.

“That doesn’t make what you did any less vile.”

“No, probably not, but you know, desperate times, desperate measures… I wanted you so badly, Buffy—fuck, I could hardly see straight.”

“Booze has that effect on people.”

“What?” he laughed. “Sweetheart, nothing could be farther from the truth! I was drunk—stinking drunk—but my feelings didn’t just pop up as a side effect of too much tequila. Sure it mucked up my ways of thinking—I did bring Harmony home—but, I want you always. The intensity might vary from day to day, and sometimes from hour to hour, but the desire’s always there.”

“I don’t want to hear about this! You and your-your stupid fluctuating levels of desire—give me a break!” She continued to struggle, but only halfheartedly. Her heart hammered against his chest. Her heavy breathing made Spike’s confidence grow more little by little. She was battling something, and it seemed as if she was on her way to losing the fight.

“What if I apologized?” he suggested in a silky whisper. “I could grovel a bit. You can call me some names. Toss your nastiest adjectives my way.”

“You’re patronizing me?” At last she twisted so she could glare into his eyes. “You have exactly thirty seconds, Spike, if you don’t--.”

“Thirty seconds? Alright, that sounds fair enough.” Seeing a glimmer of opportunity, he pounced on it shamelessly. He captured her mouth, and kissed her like his life depended on it. To his delight, Buffy waited a full minute and a half before complaining.

“Spike! This is not—damn it, this is not what I meant!”

“I prefer this.” With her mouth out of reach, he nuzzled, kissed and licked her neck. “Threaten to kick my head in later. For now…Buffy, enjoy this with me.”

He released her wrist, and wove their fingers together. Instead of pinning her down, he gave her the chance to move freely.

“Oh, I’ll do a lot more than just kick you in the head,” she said while panting softly. She shook her hand until their entwined fingers were broken apart. “I’ll do so much more.”

“But that’ll happen later, right?” He looked her over carefully. “Please?”

She gathered the lapels of his jacket into her fists and gave him one of her dirtiest looks. “Later. And that’s a promise, not a threat. If you tell anyone about this--.”

“Don’t worry, won’t tell a soul. Cross my heart and hope to--.”

“Shut up,” Buffy interrupted. She yanked him forward and kissed him.
***

Buffy could only handle so much, and it didn’t help that Spike was attractive. Her mom, her sister, that random girl Jade from the mall, they all liked the peroxided pest in one way or another. And Buffy wasn’t blind, she was aware of his body, his strength, his personality…

Everything about him was magnetic. Even Buffy missed him when he wasn’t around to get on her nerves. She didn’t want to watch TV or cook waffles for the guy; she wanted to fight with him. The bickering, the name-calling, the sparring, it all left her feeling smart, witty, and powerful. And now, while she kissed him…

He wasn’t the only one suffering from fluctuating levels of desire. It also didn’t help that his ‘desire’ had reached its peak and was pressing into her stomach. She’d be inhuman not to respond. But at the same time, she felt so unlike herself. Talented lips, roaming hands, and a sexy voice shouldn’t have been enough to sway the mighty Slayer.

And she was well past swaying. She could hardly stand on her own two feet. She was clinging to Spike, and not just for support.

“Buffy, my God--.”

“No talking,” she said before capturing his mouth again. She kept him exactly where she wanted him, with his head angled perfectly as he put his lips, tongue, and teeth to better use.

Her hands framed and stroked his sharp cheekbones before slipping into his jacket. Her palms glided over the muscles of his back and torso. She didn’t think twice before sneaking under his snug t-shirt. In fact, she was trying not to think much at all.

He tasted good. He felt good—he was surprisingly warm; like a sponge his skin was soaking up her body heat, radiating it back in a comfortable cozy glow. He was making her feel good. Everything was good, good, good, and it was going to stay that way…at least for a few minutes longer.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned as she snuggled closer. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Not yet.” He chuckled and it was a genuinely happy sound that caused Buffy’s stomach to twist into knots. “Spike…”

“Hush, it’s alright. I know the drill. Talking, bad. Kissing, good.”

“Talking, it…” As he nibbled her neck, she closed her eyes and filled her fists with platinum blond hair. “It complicates things.”

“And the kissing doesn’t?”

She grimaced. She couldn’t see his smile, but she could hear it, she felt it against her skin. He was teasing her, but that didn’t stop her from tugging on his hair and pulling his head from her collarbone.

“Mind the hair, baby. It’s attached, you know.” He grinned until his eyes focused on her pinched mouth and narrowed eyes. “Come on, I can’t say anything? Not a word?”

“That, what you just said, that’s a perfect example of why you shouldn’t be allowed to speak. Because when you say things like that, I start thinking. And the more rational thoughts I have, the more I--.”

“Panic?” he suggested. “The more you give yourself one hell of a bloody guilt trip?”

“I shouldn’t be doing this. Not with you, and you know it. I don’t have time to coddle a lovesick vampire.”

“Oh, of course you do because, taking these past few days in account, coddling means snogging my brains out whenever it’s convenient for you.”

Buffy untangled herself from his arms and headed to her abandoned breakfast on the dresser. She picked up the bottle of juice and gave it a good shake.

“So, that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it. You’d better leave, and now.” She needed to keep her hands busy, she couldn’t look at him or she’d be lured back into his embrace, and with an embarrassing amount of ease.

“I don’t have to be burden. I can help.”

“And what would you expect in return?” She dreaded the answer, but it was a question she had to ask. “I’m sure you’d want something, you always do. Cigarettes, alcohol, your very own ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card—oh, and don’t let me forget about the cash. If you think snogging is going on that list, you’re--.”

“Crazy? Insane? Completely off my rocker?” When she didn’t respond, he walked to her and slipped the bottle of juice from her fingers. “I’m crazy about you.”

“I don’t care. You’ll get over it.”

“If you’d just give me a chance--.”

“It’s been three days since I saved you from Harmony’s minions! Do you honestly think that everything can change between us in just three days?”

“Hasn’t it? You weren’t kissing me three days ago.”

“Spike--.”

“Look daggers at me if you must, but we both know there are only two ways to get rid of a cold: either you fight it, or you let it take you to bed--.”

“What?” Buffy interrupted. She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be offended by his ridiculous metaphor. “Did you just--.”

“Oh my God! Spike, did you just compare yourself to snot?!”

Buffy rolled her eyes as Dawn stuck her head through the open door. “Just when I thought this morning couldn’t get any worse,” she mumbled under the sound of her sister’s loud cackles.

“Is that a real pick up line? There are only two ways to get rid of a cold—damn, that’s priceless!”

“Dawn!”

“Darn, I meant darn,” Dawn corrected herself between giggles. “Spike. Seriously?”

“Shouldn’t she be at school?” he asked, looking from Buffy to Dawn. “Bit, why aren’t you at school?”

“I’m not going today and neither is Buffy. We’re taking mom to her doctor’s appointment. So, back to you being lame, no wonder you haven’t dated much after Drusilla. With lines like that—God, did you come up with that doozy yourself?”

“Snagged it from a movie. Though it was brilliant, you know, at the time and when I wasn’t repeating it for the fucking peanut gallery. I could do without the laugh-track, bit.”

Buffy watched as he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked almost sheepish as he joined Dawn with a few chuckles.

“You’re not supposed to swear in the house,” Dawn continued. “My friend Janice was banned from here for a whole week because she dropped an f-bomb.”

“Then maybe you should go downstairs and plug Joyce’s ears for me.”

“Oh, you can’t get rid of me that easily. I want to hear what you’ll compare yourself to next.”

“What else have you heard?” Buffy asked, interrupting what was becoming their private conversation. “How long were you spying on us?”

“Not long. Just long enough to stumble across a crapload of blackmail. With Spike’s poetic snot reference and your moaning and groaning, I won’t be getting grounded again. Not in this lifetime. And if I do get in trouble, you’ll get me out of it or I’ll tell everyone about the kissing and how I totally saw you feeling up Spike.”

Buffy struggled to breathe normally. “Dawn,” she paused, too angry to get out a complete sentence. Her brain went into overdrive, grasping for a threat, her own piece of blackmail—anything that she could use against her little sister.

“What if I told big sis a few things?”

Buffy looked at Spike, shocked by his soft voice and serious expression. He didn’t return her look; his eyes were glued on Dawn.

“I could tell her about the time I caught you in the Magic Box--.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“What happened at the Magic Box?” Buffy asked. “What’d she do?”

“Or I could tell her about…”

All he did was lift a brow and Dawn squirmed. Her chin quivered and tiny drops of moisture gathered in her eyes. “But…but you promised.”

“I know, kitten, and I’ll keep it, if you’ll cut us a break.”

“Wait,” Buffy began. She wanted to say more, but Spike gave her a stern glance and took Dawn a few steps away.

“You’re taking her side?”

“I won’t let you give her grief.”

“I thought you were my friend.”

“I am, sweet.”

With his back to Buffy, he leaned in to whisper into Dawn’s ear. Buffy had no idea what he was saying but within seconds, her sister’s frown was transformed into a fragile smile.

“Are we alright?” he asked, his voice was still quiet, but Buffy could hear him clearly again.

“We shouldn’t be, you being a big fat jerk and all…but we’re okay.”

“You’re sure?”

Her head bobbed in a reluctant nod before she stepped forward to place a brief kiss on his cheek. “Your waffles are ready. They’ve been ready for at least twenty minutes. They’re ice cold, but I think they taste better that way.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

“What the hell was that?” Buffy demanded once Dawn had left the room.

“Nothing. We had a talk, that’s all.”

He tried to shrug off her question, but Buffy wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily. “You either threatened her within every inch of her life, or you promised her the moon. Which is it? And what do you have on her? What happened at the Magic Box? What was that look all about?”

“What look? I don’t remember a look.”

“You did that thing with your eyebrows when you said, “Or I could tell her about…” What was that look about, Spike?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s over with. I handled it. She won’t tattle on us. Your secrets are safe.”

“Yeah, but so are hers!”

He stared at her a moment before cracking a smile.

“Spike, don’t--.”

“I gave her my word.”

“You were going to tell me a minute ago!”

“She was playing dirty. I didn’t have a choice. Now she’s promised to behave, shouldn’t you follow her example?”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, not enjoying his teasing. “What makes you so sure that she’ll keep her promise?”

“She will,” he shrugged again. “She’s a good kid.”

“I bet I wouldn’t think so if you told me her deep dark secrets. I think she’d be grounded until she turns forty. Am I right?”

“Buffy,” he paused to shake his head and laugh. “I have waffles waiting, would you care to join me? We can go round and round about this all morning if you’d like.”

“No, I wouldn’t care to, I’ve had enough of you today to last me a lifetime.”

“So, I won’t be watching Dawn later?”

“I…I’m not sure,” she answered honestly.

“When is Joyce’s appointment?”

“Around noon,” she mumbled. She couldn’t think of a reason to lie. “It’ll be long. Maybe a few hours. Dawn…she might want to leave early.”

“I’ll be home all day.”

Buffy just nodded and Spike did the same before disappearing down the hallway.
***

Chapter 10

Buffy looked at the clock on the wall of the hospital’s waiting room, and then, seconds later, she checked the display on her cell phone. Only thirty minutes had crept by since her mother had been taken to an examination room and Buffy could already feel tension gathering in the muscles of her neck and shoulders. She hated hospitals, and it made her more uncomfortable knowing that her mom was being poked and prodded by a troop of seemingly clueless doctors.

With a quiet groan, she stretched her back and rolled her shoulders. She straightened her legs out briefly and nearly stomped on the bag she had lying between her feet. The bag was stuffed with textbooks. She needed to study and had planned on using her so-called extra free time wisely, but she was too anxious to crack open a book. She couldn’t concentrate on science, math, and English while her life was so chaotic.

She wasn’t failing her classes at UC Sunnydale, not yet, but she knew it was becoming a likely possibility with every reading assignment she blew off. She was barely getting from paper to paper, from class to class, and she just couldn’t find the time to read between slaying vampires, hunting down Sunnydale’s latest monster of the week, helping a desperate Giles before the grand opening of the Magic Box, moving back into her mom’s house, losing sleep over her mom’s mystery illness, and completely losing her mind after learning the truth about her little sister.

Dawn hadn’t said more than a few words since they had entered the waiting room. Headphones covered her ears, but Buffy couldn’t hear any music coming from them. Her hands were tucked under her bent knees, and on her lap rested the ‘Get Well Soon’ teddy bear that she had insisted on buying for Joyce.

Buffy still had trouble believing that the girl next to her wasn’t her ‘real’ sister. She acted like her sister; their early morning run-in with Spike had definitely been proof of that. They shared birthmarks, blood, and memories. And they were sharing genuine concern for their mother. Buffy couldn’t imagine sitting in the waiting room alone, as an only child and without Dawn at her side.

But her memories of Dawn weren’t real either. Every birthday, every sibling rivalry, every report card—everything that everyone remembered concerning Dawn never really happened. She wasn’t Buffy’s sister, or Joyce’s daughter, or even fourteen years old. She was a green ball of energy; a potentially dangerous Key to all dimensions that an order of monks decided to hide in a human, sister-shaped treasure chest.

Only Buffy and Giles knew the truth. And Buffy wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. She couldn’t imagine how Dawn or how her mother would react to such unbelievable and life-altering information. She couldn’t bear being to blame for their heartache. Buffy was the reason Dawn existed. The monks created Dawn so Buffy would protect the Key without a second thought. Buffy sometimes wished that she didn’t love her sister so much just so she could prove the monks wrong. She wanted to teach them a lesson for messing with her family and friends’ emotions, but she couldn’t. Regardless of everything, Dawn was Buffy’s sister and she would protect her no matter what.

She’d even look to Spike for help. He was the strongest force she knew, when humans weren’t involved. Just one day into their arrangement, Buffy already felt relief from some of her stress. It amazed her how comforted she was by simply knowing that Dawn would be heading to Spike’s place after school instead of to their empty house. It should have amazed her further that she was letting her sister hang out in a crypt with a vampire for a few hours on schooldays, but she couldn’t gather up much apprehension, no matter how hard she tried. That feeling deep down in the pit of her stomach, her feminine intuition, her tingling Slayer sense—all that internal…stuff was telling her that Spike could be trusted.

But only when it came to Dawn, of course.

Or at least that was what she wanted to believe. She couldn’t accept that after three days Spike could go from being an enemy, to her sister’s bodyguard and finally, to something that kind of resembled a potential boyfriend.

While grimacing, she looked down at the cell phone in her fist. Spike and potential boyfriend; those words should never be in the same sentence.

But she was thinking about it. Her sister wasn’t talking, she wasn’t doing her homework, and thinking about Spike was better than worrying about her mom. So she thought about Tuesday night, Wednesday night, and Thursday morning. She mulled over the arguments and the kisses until she made a decision.

It would all stop.

Well, not everything, just the kisses mostly. And the touching. Definitely the running of her fingers through his hair…along his strong arms, chest, and shoulders…his smooth lower back—she’d put up an end to all of that. She’d never be alone with him again. She’d insist on keeping at least three feet of space between them at all times. And she’d make a point to be completely dressed around him; he wouldn’t be seeing her in her pajamas again. He wouldn’t be allowed into her room—he wouldn’t be allowed upstairs at all!

“Buffy, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Buffy said, instantly snapping out of her thoughts. “Why wouldn’t I be? Why do you ask?”

“You’re acting weird,” Dawn answered. “You’re looking weird. Were you thinking about Spike?”

“No, I—now why would you think that?” Buffy demanded. She didn’t remember anything in Giles’s books about the Key being able to read minds. “I’ve just been sitting here, minding my own business, and you’re accusing me of--.”

“Thinking about Spike,” Dawn finished for her. “Which you were. Are you guys a couple now?”

“No—God, worlds of no!”

“Oh. You’re fooling around.”

“No!”

“Then you’re leading him on? Okay, I can see why you’d want to, but do you really think that’s the best idea?”

“Dawn,” Buffy began through clenched teeth.

“What? Is there a better way to say it? You’re letting him think that he has a chance. You’re spending time with him--.”

“That’s because he won’t leave me alone. He’s practically stalking me. Every time I turn around--.”

“Maybe he wouldn’t be so eager to see you if you stopped kissing him, Buffy. He’s already in love with you. He’s madly, insanely, and freakishly in love with you.”

Buffy paused for a minute before asking. “Does he…talk about me? Does he—Dawn, does he ask about me?”

“Usually he wants to know if you talk about him.”

She let out a little groan, rolled her eyes and mumbled a quiet curse. “This entire conversation will be repeated to him, won’t it?”

“There’s a very good possibility.”

Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “You know, you’re supposed to be my sister. Would it be so terrible if you were on my side? Just once?”

“He’s cooler than you,” Dawn responded simply. She picked up the stuffed bear in her lap and examined its glossy eyes and black plastic nose.

“I see.”

“Do you?” Dawn turned to look Buffy directly in the eye. “Sometimes you can be so clueless.”

“About what?”

“Spike. Everything.”

“Oh, well, at least I’m consistent.” Buffy snatched the bear from Dawn’s hands and gave its stomach a squeeze. “Mom will like this.”

“How long has she been in there?”

“About an hour.” When her sister sighed and sunk more deeply into her chair, Buffy continued, “Want to go on a vending machine run?”

“Do you have change for a five?”

“I can give you some money,” Buffy said, reaching for her bag. “And you don’t have to pay me back. You know why? I can be just as cool as that annoying vampire. Cooler.”

“Oh, really?” Dawn snickered as she held out her hand, willing and ready to accept Buffy’s money. “You’ll have to try a lot harder than this. Spike’s British.”

“Just get me some M&Ms, brat.”

“Seriously, have you seen his cheekbones?”

“Dawn.”

She laughed off Buffy’s threatening tone. She even snorted twice, faced with Buffy’s scowl. “God, you’re the best.”

“Excuse me?” Buffy blinked. “Was that a compliment?”

“I was really worried about mom, but now I feel a lot better.”

“Because you’ve been teasing me?”

She nodded while flashing a small but wicked smile. “Now I know how to pass the time without feeling so miserable.”

“Instead, you’re going to make me miserable.”

“Exactly.”

Maybe the monks weren’t so clever after all. At the moment Buffy was more than just a little tempted to offer her sister to the nearest big bad.

“You know, he is coming over tonight,” Dawn continued.

“Oh. Oh, no,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “No way. I need a break. I need space. He can’t make a habit of just coming over whenever he pleases--.”

“It wasn’t his idea. Mom wanted to pay him for watching me—which, by the way, is completely unnecessary, I do not need a babysitter--.”

“Mom paid him?”

“She tried, but he refused. She insisted that he come over for dinner. She wants to pay him off with food I guess. See? A lot happens when you hide in your room all morning. We talked about it during breakfast.”

“Mom’s going to be tired after her appointment; she won’t want to cook…”

“We’re ordering in. Pizza. Mom said we can invite more people, but I’d rather just spend time with her, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“Buffy… If you don’t want Spike to come over tonight, he’ll understand. Just give him a call.”

“Spike doesn’t—he has a phone? In his crypt?”

“He has a cell like everyone else on the planet. Do you want his number?”

“He actually pays for a cell phone? You have his number?”

“Buffy, come on, it’s not that unbelievable. Do you want his number or not? Or, do you want me to call for you?” Dawn asked with a mischievous grin.

“No. And promise me that you’ll never talk to Spike on my behalf. Ever.”

“Sure, I promise,” she snickered.

“Now, about my M&Ms…”

“Alright, I’m going, but first,” she found a pen in her purse and grabbed a hold of Buffy’s hand. Before she could be stopped, Dawn scribbled seven metallic pink digits onto Buffy’s skin.

“Dawn!”

“What? I didn’t have any paper.”

“But I did!” Buffy yanked her hand back and tried to rub the ink away. “Is this permanent?” she demanded when the marks failed to smear. “You wrote on me with permanent ink—what were you thinking?!”

“Buffy, it’ll wash off--.”

“Oh, it’d better.”

“It’s just ink. People write numbers and important stuff on their hands all the time.”

“When they’re in high school!”

“I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“You don’t look very sorry to me,” Buffy grumbled. “God, I need to wash this off.”

“You should call him first. Or not,” she added once Buffy shot a glare in her direction. “Want me to show you where the bathroom is?”

“I can find it, you just…just sit there and stay out of trouble.”

“What about your candy?”

“I’ll buy my own candy. Give me my money back. Do you want something?”

“I get something? I mean, I have a choice?”

“Mom will chew me out if I starve you—no matter how much you deserve it—so, what do you want?”

“Maybe some pretzels? Or Cheetos. Whatever. Thanks, Buffy.

“Don’t mention it.” Buffy put out her hand and seconds later, it was filled with the dollar bills that she had given Dawn moments before. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere, don’t talk to strangers, and find me once you hear anything from mom.”
***

Chapter 11

Buffy paced in front of the vending machines as she dialed Spike’s number into her cell phone.

“Please don’t pick up. Be asleep. Please be doing what normal vampires do during the day.”

“Eh, hello?”

She opened her mouth, but suddenly couldn’t form words.

“Who is this?”

His voice sounded differently over the phone. It was deeper, a tad gruff.

I actually woke him up, Buffy thought, swallowing. Without meaning to, she imagined Spike sitting up in bed, chest bare, sheets riding low across his hips, hair just as messy as it had been after she plowed her fingers through it that morning, the night before…

Finding her lips dry, she ran the tip of her tongue across them.

“Dawn? You’re playing with the phone again, bit?”

“Just how often does my sister call you?” She waited a few beats and he didn’t say a word. “Hey? You still there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Yeah…can you repeat it?”

Buffy felt a smile pull at her mouth and tried her best to ignore it. “Here, let me make it easier for you to understand: my sister, calls you, why?”

“She—oh hell, Slayer, how am I supposed to know? She thinks it’s a good time, pestering me and the like. She calls, usually wants to know what I’m doing, has a laugh, and says good-bye. She finds it awfully amusing.”

“And you don’t.”

“No—well, I…don’t…mind?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be a trick question, Spike.” Now smiling freely, she sat in the nearest empty chair. Absently, she twisted a lock of hair around her pointer finger. Sometimes he can be so…squirmy, she thought, determined not to laugh. “If she’s bothering you, say so. I’ll put an end to it.”

“No doubt, but it isn’t necessary. Can’t we let it pass on its own? She’ll get bored sooner or later.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“It’s been only a handful of calls. It shouldn’t warrant a punishment.”

“Punishment? Who said anything about a punishment? Unless…do you think she should be punished?”

“No, no, she isn’t a bother. She’s just--.”

“Your little buddy, your partner in crime. Before Dawn lied for you yesterday, I wonder if she knew exactly what you were doing with my clothes.”

“Or who you were doing while she was wearing my clothes,” Buffy continued in a grumble, her smile vanishing. She stopped twirling her hair. She put her hand on the chair arm and glared at the top of it. Spike’s telephone number was still there, a hot pink brand courtesy of her sister. After three intensive washings, the glitter was gone, but the ink was still annoyingly vibrant.

Standing suddenly, she went to the vending machine, added money and punched at the buttons. Dawn’s chips fell effortlessly from the silver coil, but her M&Ms failed to budge. “Was there anyone else?” she asked through her teeth. “Did anyone else do what she did? Do you pretend with other girls?”

“Buffy—pet, where are you? We shouldn’t talk about this over the bloody phone. Come here or let me come to you.”

“No!” she exclaimed, giving the vending machine a not-so-subtle shove. Thanks to her Slayer-strength, her M&Ms fell, followed by a handful of other snacks. Eyes wide, she scooped up all the little bags and candy bars and cradled them in her arms.

“You just stay where you are,” she continued, head tilted as she squeezed her cell phone between her cheek and shoulder. “I don’t need you here.”

“You’re at the hospital, aren’t you?”

“I don’t need you here.”

“I’ll take the sewers. Won’t even need a blanket, the hospital has no windows.”

“Spike--.”

“Or we can talk about it tonight,” he added grudgingly. “Or maybe—oh, that’s why you called, isn’t it? You found out about our dinner plans and—let me guess—you’re phoning to snatch back the invite?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and spun on her heels. “Spike, I do not--.” She gasped the second she collided with the man standing behind her. The snacks and her cell phone dropped to the floor. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m usually not clumsy.”

“You seem a bit more sidetracked than clumsy. You’re distracted, maybe?”

“Heavily,” Buffy responded with a little laugh. She looked at the sandy-haired man in scrubs as he crouched down beside her. “You’re a doctor?”

“Intern. And you must be…one, um, hungry girl.”

“Actually I’m one half of two hungry girls, but—okay, my candy got stuck, I battered the machine a little, and hit the jackpot. Maybe…should I report this to someone?”

“And be forced to give up your winnings? Why bother? Consider this your lucky day and—oh, hey, I think your cell’s still working. It didn’t drop the call.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said, taking the phone. Without checking if Spike was still there, she turned it off. “I shouldn’t have turned it on in the first place. Distractions, you know, they can be distracting.”

“Where’s you’re other half?”

“Huh?”

“You said there were two of you. Two hungry girls?”

“Oh, right. My sister’s waiting on the other side of this floor.”

“Let me help you carry some of this stuff. I’m Ben by the way.”

“I’m Buffy,” she said, following the man down the hall.
***

Spike smoothed down his hair one more time for good measure before stepping out of the elevator. He knew he was pushing it by coming to the hospital, but it was a risk he had to take.

Buffy was thinking about him, she had called him, and she was jealous of his sham of a relationship with Harmony.

He smirked. His tongue curled on its own accord.

Got to simmer. Got to keep cool, he reminded himself. If I don’t take the swagger down a few pegs, my girl’ll do it and she’ll knock me clear on my ass.

He rounded the corner, knowing exactly where to go after receiving a brief but informative text message from Dawn. He heard Buffy’s laugh, saw her smile, and nearly froze, eyes focusing on the man sharing her laughter. He was the Ken doll-type, right down his flouncy hair and square jaw. He’d seen the characteristics before, in Riley, Angel and even that lousy one-night-stand of hers. The guy was her type.

With a slight flare to his nostrils, Spike stomped toward where they were seated in the waiting room. Buffy pretended not to notice him, but he knew that wasn’t the case. He saw her eyes flash once they met his. And if looks could kill, he’d be dust in the wind.

“How’s Joyce?” he asked, determined to play nice.

“Hey,” Dawn said, smiling brightly. “You made it. Mom’s doing okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Who’s your friend?”

“He’s Ben. He’s an intern-slash-man-nurse. He gave me his stethoscope.”

“I lent it to her,” Ben corrected with a grin that Spike deemed too toothy to be genuine.

Dawn just shrugged, putting the earpieces of the stethoscope into her ears. “This is Spike. He’s my friend and Buffy’s…hey, Buff, what is Spike to you again? Their relationship status changes more than a…I don’t know what, but it changes a lot, trust me.”

“You must be Buffy’s distraction,” Ben said pleasantly, offering Spike his right hand. “You caused our little accident at the vending machine. She was on the phone with you when we collided, am I right?”

“Right.” Spike dismissed the offer of a handshake, looking to Buffy who was poorly masking her anger behind a blank expression. She was sitting rigidly in the chair, knees and feet glued together. Her hands were tightly clasped one over the other.

Made her tongue-tied, he decided silently. She’s too pissed off for words. Nice going, Spike, you stupid git.

“While she was talking to you, she beat up the vending machine. We got a ton of free stuff,” Dawn explained. She stood and pressed the stethoscope to Spike’s chest. “You’re wearing a new shirt and you’re wearing cologne. Nice. You look hot and smell pretty.”

“Dawn,” Buffy snapped, speaking in a tone that made her sister cringe. The stethoscope lifted from where his heartbeat should’ve been and she returned to her seat in a sulk.

“I-I should get going. I’ll check on Joyce for you.” Ben smiled at the girls and nodded briefly toward Spike. “The tests should be complete within the hour. You’ll be able to take her home soon.”

“Thank you. Dawn, the stethoscope.”

Without saying a word, Dawn handed it to Ben before he scurried away. Then she crossed her arms and glared down at her tennis shoes.

Spike’s eyes slid Buffy’s way and picked up on the same glare, but hers was directed straight at the breast pocket of his button-down shirt.

“Oh, balls,” he grumbled, sinking into the seat next to Dawn. Even one seat away from the Slayer he could feel her fury radiate his way. “I know you told me to not to come, but I thought…fuck, everything I thought was off-base, alright? I see that now.”

“It’s a good thing that he’s here, Buffy. He cares about us. He cares about mom.”

“He isn’t here because of mom.”

“Maybe he is, you don’t know that,” Dawn snapped back, causing Spike to lift a brow. “Spike isn’t Riley. Once you told Riley you didn’t need him around, he actually stayed away and moped about it like some kind of kicked puppy. He barely ever asked about mom. Spike brought her flowers. He ate waffles with her and spent time with her. Riley didn’t bother unless you were with him.”

“Hey now, let’s not oversell a bit of decency, nibblet.”

“See? He’s just being decent. Yesh, Buffy, get over yourself. Not everything he does is part of a big scheme to get into your pants. Right, Spike?”

“Right,” he agreed reluctantly, studying the chipped black polish on his thumbnail. “But don’t waste your breath. We’ve been over this before. There’s no reasoning with her. We take two steps forward, she insists on pulling us back a bloody mile.”

“Spike, I—this isn’t the time for this! And I will not tolerate being ganged up on! Whatever is going on between Spike and me is none of your business. I shouldn’t have to—just butt out, Dawn!”

And with that said, Buffy stormed off.
***

“It’s that time of the month. That’s why she’s so crazy.”

“I don’t know,” Spike began, not about to tell Dawn he was certain that wasn’t the case thanks to his vampire-sense of smell. “She’s stressed, that’s all. She’s worried about your mum.”

“Ben said she’d be fine. He said it couldn’t be anything serious.”

“Well, there you are, if Ben says, it must be true.”

“Are you going to go after her?”

“I am. But I’ll give her a minute or two. If I go after her now, she’ll still be spitting fire.”

“If you’re waiting for that to pass, you should wait a heck of a lot longer than two minutes.”

“Yeah. Dawn, as much as I appreciate your help, this thing between your sister and me, if it’s gonna happen--.”

“You’re telling me to butt out too?”

“No, not quite, but let me finish. Go easier on her, alright? Lay off some of the teasing. I’ve got a lot of taming ahead of me and it won’t be easy so you’ve got to work with me. You can’t put her on the spot like you did earlier.”

“I just don’t understand her,” Dawn mumbled, flicking Joyce’s ‘Get Well Soon’ bear in the nose. “One minute she’s asking me if you ask about her, and the next she’s back to treating you like crap.”

“Well, now…wait, she did that, really?”

“Really, but maybe you shouldn’t tell her that I said so.”

“Got it,” he replied, biting back a smirk.

“And don’t say anything about her hand, okay? She’s been wigging out about it for, like, hours.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I kinda wrote your number on it,” she admitted with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I kinda used a glitter pen and it kinda…won’t wash off.”

“And that’s another example of what you shouldn’t be doing,” Spike chuckled. “Pet, it’s no wonder she’s got a short fuse. You’re nipping at her heels with a bloody lighter.” Still grinning, he stood. “Let me fetch Dr. Man-Nurse. He can keep you company while I take on your sister.”
***


A/N: You might've noticed the rating has changed on this. I thought this would be R-ish, but then I actually wrote more, and that just isn't going to happen. I'm usually not too graphic with my other NC17 stuff so this will be similar. Sorry if this disappoints anyone. ;)

Chapter 12

“Interesting choice of a hideaway. No offense, but isn’t this like hiding from a teacher in the teacher’s lounge?”

“I have the sun on my side.”

On the balcony, the only place friendly to the hospital’s smokers above ground level, Buffy stood in a small patch of direct sunlight.

Lovely, Spike thought, taking two steps forward, completely mesmerized. Her blonde hair, her tan skin, her dazzling green eyes: everything about her glittered under the sun’s rays.

“Hey now, don’t do anything stupid,” Buffy said, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Worried about me, Slayer? Would you hate to see me fry?”

“Hate might be too strong of a word, but just stay back. Stay against the wall.”

“Oh, alright,” he said with a grin. He leaned against the building and lit a cigarette with a flick of his lighter. “You know,” he continued, exhaling smoke from his nose, “if you were trying to avoid me, you fell pretty short. You might be safe in that block of sunlight, but you’re surrounded by shadows. This shade I can handle. You’ve trapped yourself more or less. Now what I’m not sure of, is, if you’ve done this to yourself on purpose or not.”

“Did you leave my sister by herself?”

“No, I did not. I called on that Ken-doll intern of yours.”

“Ben?”

“Yes, bloody Ben,” he mumbled, inspecting the cigarette as he rolled it between his fingers. “So what’s the story with Benny-boy? You like him?”

“What’s it to you? You think you have a claim over me now?” For some reason she decided to flip her hair over her shoulder at that very moment, exposing her long beautiful neck. Spike’s mouth instantly went dry. Was she daring him? Was it an offer, an invitation?

“I just met the guy,” she continued with a scoff. “He probably thinks I’m a freak anyway. Because that’s what this is, Spike, just another freak show.”

“And you’re the Dr. Jekyll-Ms. Hyde of the group, yeah?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re all over the place, pet,” he said, tossing down his cigarette.

“Hey, you’re surrounded by ashtrays. Use them, dummy.” She crouched down and before she could grab the cigarette butt, Spike reached for her wrist.

“Gottcha,” he said with a wink.

“Let go,” she replied. She looked him directly in the eye, but didn’t move a muscle.

“Make me.” He barely tugged and she actually joined him in the shade. His hand slid from her wrist up to her elbow. Her skin was so warm, Spike wondered if he might start to sizzle. “Guess this is the part where I apologize for leaving my crypt without your permission.”

“I didn’t want you here,” she sighed. “This isn’t the time or place to deal with our mess. Whatever we are, whatever we’re doing—whatever we’re not going to do, it isn’t ready to be exposed to the public. It’s too soon and it’s too…weird.”

“Because you don’t know how to handle me yet, am I right?” As she looked ahead, he lightly stroked her elbow with the pads of his fingers.

“You. Dawn. You and Dawn together. It’s too much. Period.”

“If it helps, Dawn and I had a chat.”

“What? You talked about me?”

“Don’t worry. Not much was said, but I believe she’ll think twice before she harasses you again.” Halfway through the sentence, he sought out her left hand, instantly spotting the pretty pink stain.

“At least about me, I hope.” He finished the last words against her skin, brushing it with a kiss.

“Spike,” she began, her voice huskier than usual. “I can’t be like everyone else you charm. I can’t just forget what you are because I find you…”

“Easy on the eyes? A fucking-fantastic kisser?”

“No! You’re just…not as repulsive as usual.”

“That a compliment, Slayer?”

She nodded, eyes downcast, lips out in a slight pout. Spike was sure she didn’t even know she was pouting and that made it even more irresistible. Teeth in his own lower lip, he touched the small of her back, coaxing her closer.

“Spike, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“That’s not good enough,” he sang. He leaned in and Buffy let out a tiny gasp once their lips met. Since she refused to let him hold her close, he wondered if she’d opened her mouth to him unintentionally. Surely it was an accident, because his Slayer wouldn’t just welcome him into the depths of her sweet mouth…

But then she nipped at him. She actually licked him, letting out a quiet, but unmistakably needy whimper that had him seeing stars.

She wasn’t just welcoming him, she was laying down a red carpet.

And she let him kiss her breathless, but she didn’t give in completely. She somehow stayed lucid enough to halt his every attempt at touching her hair. He wasn’t allowed to sneak a touch under her blousy top either.

“Public. Remember the public,” she panted, gripping his forearms after breaking their kiss with a groan. As her chest heaved, she closed her eyes and licked her kiss-bruised lips.

“Alright. Note taken. Carry on.”

“Stay back.”

“But--.”

“Stay back. Don’t ruin a good thing.”

“That’s what you’re calling this now? A good thing?”

She opened her eyes and Spike didn’t even bother toning down his smirk. “It’s…okay. You’re not ugly, and the kissing is…nice.”

“Excuse me? It’s fucking mind-blowing, and don’t you forget it.”

“If I could, I would,” Buffy grumbled, causing Spike to chuckle softly. “You have an unfair advantage. You have years of practice.”

“Decades,” he practically purred, leaning in closer.

“With that skank Drusilla.” Buffy stepped back before his lips could caress her ear.

“You’re jealous of her too?” He couldn’t be more pleased. “You shouldn’t be, baby. You’re the only one for me now.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be so sure of that, and watch the terms of endearment. Don’t get carried away. Or too excited. I was jealous of her years ago, and because of Angel, not you.”

“Come again?”

“I saw her with Angel when you first came to town. They seemed cozy. I thought she was the kind of girl he wanted when he was alive so I dressed up like her for Halloween.”

“Like Dru?”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” she said, letting him go so she could cross her arms over her chest. “You were there. It was the Halloween everyone became their costumes, the costumes they bought from Ethan’s store.”

“I…I’ve never made the connection….”

“Well, you’ve never been the smartest, now have you?”

“Hey, hey,” he said, reaching out before she could go back inside the hospital. “Are we really done here?”

“I am.”

“You’re still upset with me?”

“I’m always upset with you.” Her eyes went to where he was holding her arm then swept back to his face. “Let go.”

“What about dinner? Am I still invited?”

“I don’t know. Mom might not be up for it.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it?”

“Well, I might not have a soul, but I won’t force my company on a sick woman. If she isn’t feeling well, let her rest.”

“She’s sick, but she isn’t a…” Buffy squirmed out of his hold, her jaw set. “She isn’t a sick woman. Don’t call her that.”

“Buffy—baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Don’t call me that either! I need to—I have to see if she’s out of her appointment. I need to check on Dawn.”

“Alright,” he said, following her back to the waiting room.
***

“Is she done? Can we get out of here yet?” Instead of sitting, Buffy stood in front of Ben and Dawn with her arms still crossed. “If she’s just waiting for results, can’t I see her? She shouldn’t have to wait alone.”

“Ah…” Ben glanced at his watch then nervously up at Buffy. “We try to keep the families of our patients--.”

“Corralled in the waiting rooms, yeah yeah, but can’t you actually do something?”

Without saying a word, Spike slouched back into his seat next to Dawn.

“I thought you were going to settle her down,” Dawn mumbled out of the side of her mouth.

“Tried. Got somewhere. Still managed to fail.”

“I want to see my mom. Tell whomever you need to tell that I insisted, because, Ben, I’m insisting.”

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I guess you can follow me, I’ll take you back.”
***

Buffy’s heart pounded as Ben approached her mother’s exam room.

“Mrs. Summers?”

“Hold on! I’m almost dressed!” Joyce said through the door.

“Mom? Mom, it’s me. Can I come in?”

“I’ll give you some time alone. I’ll find her doctor.”

Buffy nodded, opening the door once Ben was out of sight. She stepped into the room and watched her mother dress.

“How’d it go?” she asked finally, afraid to hear the answer. “The CAT scan…did it see anything?”

“Can you help me with this?” Joyce handed Buffy a necklace and lifted her hair off her neck.

“Mom…” Buffy’s hands shook as she tried to work the necklace’s clasp. “Are you okay?”

“The doctor seems to think so. It’s just a shadow.”

“A shadow? In your…head?”

“I have another appointment coming up. They need to do a biopsy.”

“Oh.” Tears welled in Buffy’s eyes. She stopped trying to put on the necklace. “Sorry, mom, but I can’t figure out this chain right now.”

“Honey, it’s okay.” Her mother turned and brought her close in a hug. “If something’s wrong, we’ll get it early. Dr. Isaacs says there’s no reason to be concerned.”

“Right. No concern,” Buffy said, inhaling the smell of her mother’s perfume.
***

Spike tried to give them privacy, but Buffy stopped him from wandering off. Their eyes met for only a moment and she said, “Stay.”

He didn’t know where to look, and he wasn’t about to say anything, so he just placed a hand on Dawn’s knee as Joyce spoke to her about shadows and a pending procedure. He took the ‘Get Well Soon’ bear once Dawn passed it to him and stared at it as mother and daughters shared a weepy group hug.

“Spike, thank you for taking care of my girls.”

“Oh, I didn’t…” He looked up and found Joyce coming at him, her arms wide. He allowed himself to be pulled into her embrace and said, “Joyce, you’re welcome,” over her shoulder. Once they broke apart, she straightened his collar and patted his chest.

“Nice shirt.” With a smile, she acknowledged the stuffed animal dangling from his hand. “Is that for me?”

“It is,” Buffy answered.

“I picked it out,” Dawn added.

“Thank you. It’s adorable.” Joyce wrapped one arm around Dawn and the other around Buffy. “Spike, will you be riding home with us?”

“He can’t, the sun’s still out.”

“That’s true, Dawnie, but I don’t think--.”

“He’ll meet us later,” Buffy interrupted, her voice quiet and calm. Their eyes met again and she waited several beats before looking away. “He’ll be at our house for dinner at sundown.”

“Oh, good,” Joyce replied. “Girls, I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get out of here.”
***

Chapter 13

“Buffy, it was a pleasant surprise to see Spike at the hospital today.”

“You think so?” Buffy asked, drumming her fingers against the dining room table.

“You need someone right now, Buffy. With Riley gone and—sweetheart, I’ve noticed you haven’t been leaning on your friends as much as you used to, perhaps Spike can fill that void.”

As she continued to move her fingers, Buffy refused to think of Spike filling any of her voids.

“You must like him.”

Her fingers froze. “I must? Why must I? Mom, he’s a vampire.”

“He seems like more than just a vampire to me. He’s funny and charming. You know, I find his personality much more pleasant than Angel’s.”

“Mom!”

“Well, it’s true,” Joyce shrugged. “I had a bad feeling about Angel from the moment I met him.”

“Yeah, and you hit Spike over the head when you first met him. But of course later on you had hot chocolate with the guy and talked about his problems with women…” Buffy rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t muster up a scowl. She grabbed a napkin from in front of the pizza box and wove it between her fingers. “You really think he’s okay? I mean, he’s the kind of guy you’d approve of…for me?”

“From what I’ve gathered, he’s strong enough to fight with you and protect you. He cares about you and he is very handsome. If he looked a few years older, I wouldn’t mind--.”

“Mom!”

Joyce snickered. She leaned forward in her chair and placed a hand on Buffy’s forearm. “I think he’s a keeper. Haven’t you seen him with your sister?”

She inhaled deeply and grimaced as she exhaled. “Mom, Spike’s kinda smitten with me. He likes Dawn too, but… He thinks he’s in love with me.”

“Oh, Buffy, that’s--.”

“Don’t even say it,” she interrupted, hearing the ‘awww’ build in her mother’s voice. She looked down as a blush colored her cheeks. “He’s just really intense. I don’t know if I can handle that intensity right now…or ever.”

“Oh, Buffy. My little girl…”

“What?” she asked, still embarrassed, not sure how to react as her mom’s voice practically gushed with warmth. “Mom, please. Don’t be like Dawn about this. I need words of wisdom. I need--.”

“He’s running late,” Dawn announced. She walked into the dining room and her eyes never left her cell phone. “He says to start without him so the pizza won’t get colder than it already is.”

“Are you texting him?”

“Uh huh.”

“Where is he?”

“Running an errand,” Dawn replied with a little giggle, still reading the screen on her phone.

“Is that all?” Buffy asked. “Why is he running an errand now? He should’ve been here two hours ago.”

“Like I know?” She giggled again before saying, “Oh, Spike. So, so lame.”

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Dawn--.”

“He’ll be here soon, honey. Then you’ll have him all to yourself. For now, let your sister have her fun.” Buffy eyes bugged out and her mother just laughed and patted her hand. “Help me set the table. You get the drinks, I’ll get the paper plates.”
***

Whether anyone would believe it or not, Spike had experienced a wide array of feelings and emotions before he’d crashed his way into the Hellmouth. Even as a soulless vampire without a sturdy moral compass, he wasn’t a stranger to such things as guilt and paranoia. However, being near his Slayer made those sentiments a hell of a lot more potent.

Over the past few days, he had felt like pinching himself periodically because everything was going so unbelievably well. Buffy was coming around. She didn’t find him repulsive. Their kisses were considered so ‘nice’ she felt like pouncing on him every time he turned around. He had even shared an intimate moment with her family. He was running late for a dinner date at her house…

But all the delicate progress they’d made could crumble at any minute. Especially once the Slayer found out he didn’t quite live up to the innocent victim role he’d played on Tuesday night. She might have mercy on him after learning the finer details, but he probably wouldn’t have the time to get them aired out before she zeroed-in on the trickery and withheld information, and tried to stake him.

As much as he’d love to point fingers, all the blame would bounce back on him. About a week ago, his brain had been practically pickled in alcohol, aching from too much exposure to Harmony. His heart had been bursting with unrequited love for the Slayer. And his mouth had run off so much that a new friend from the local demon bar had offered to find him a solution to his problems.

The guy had said something along the lines of, “You want your girlfriend out of the picture and attention from the Slayer? Bring Harmony here. I’ll talk to her, but then you’ll owe me one.”

Spike had tried to get an inkling of what the guy had up his sleeve, but there was only so much he could’ve done utterly smashed. While inebriated, he might’ve mentioned Dawn telling him that Buffy preferred Riley all ‘helpless’ and ‘puppy-like’, but Spike never thought the guy would come up with Tuesday’s fight night. And the human-lackey bit? That was just cold, but who could he complain to? No one, and definitely not Buffy. His sweet Slayer actually thought Harm was the only mastermind behind the scheme…of course he hadn’t given her a reason to think otherwise.

But he really, really didn’t want her to know all the sordid details. He figured that was where his soullessness kicked in. He wanted to sweep his fibs under the rug, cut off all loose ends, and just enjoy his new and improved Buffy. For someone who claimed to barely tolerate him, she’d shown him so much enthusiasm; it made his knees quake just thinking about it. If he could keep her happy and comfortable, she’d like him thoroughly at some point, and then, he wagered, she’d erupt like a tiny eager volcano and she’d direct all her fiery hot passion his way.

All he had to do was get rid of one human-shaped loose end. The guy had seemed mostly human through Spike’s beer goggles. He had been elderly and balding. He had worn glasses. He probably just wanted money or someone dead. Hell, if he needed a demon exterminated, maybe the Slayer could tag along. They could make another date out of it.

And now Spike had entered the demon bar after receiving a call from the guy. He’d taken a seat, ordered a drink and chatted with Buffy’s sister via text message with every intention of learning exactly what the guy wanted from him, handing it over, and never looking back.

“Think it took you long enough?” Spike demanded, finally seeing him over two hours into his wait. “I told you I had somewhere to be.”

The man just blinked and it caused Spike to do the same. His eyelids didn’t touch, instead membranes appeared at the corner of the man’s eyes and they met at the middle.

“Oh! I saw that trick on the Discovery Channel! Wait, don’t tell me!” Spike rose up his pointer finger and bobbed it at the guy’s nose. “Bird, shark or is it reptile? Only those animals do that.” He mimicked the sideways blinking with his thumb and forefinger. “Can’t believe I didn’t notice it before.”

“How was your big night? Did everything go according to plan?”

“You mean the plan where you and my ex sent fucking humans after me?” When he just nodded, oblivious to Spike’s glare, Spike glared some more. “Look here, mate, you’re very very lucky that I’ve got my girl waiting, or I’d--.”

“The Slayer pays the most attention to you when you’re vulnerable, you said so yourself. It made perfect sense to make you appear more weak and pathetic than you already are.”

“Weak? Pathetic? I’ll show you weak and pathetic, you sodding little—I can kill demons, pops! I’d watch your tongue if you know what’s good for—.” Before he could finish, the man opened his mouth and Spike fell to the floor, knocked flat by a long, forked reptilian tongue.

“I don’t have time for you either, Spike.”

“What the—what the hell are you?”

“You may call me Doc.”

“Right,” Spike hissed, looking down at his ripped shirt and bloody chest. Doc’s tongue had cut through layers of his skin. “So, eh, what can I do for you, Doc? What will make us even?”

“I wasn’t going to make this easy on you. I had something very…messy in mind. Have you ever heard of a Gora demon?”

“Aren’t they local?”

“They are. I was looking to acquire a few of their eggs, directly from the nest. The Gora, she wouldn’t have been happy about that.”

“Lucky me. What do you actually want? Listen, I don’t have all night to--.”

“The Slayer has the Key. I want it.”

“Okay… and what key is this?”

“She’s keeping it hidden from Her Splendidness.”

“I’m sure she is…bloody nutter,” Spike mumbled, getting to his feet. “So, that’s all you want? A key? Not a life’s worth of smokes or a wad of cash? You don’t have a lizard or iguana-type cousin you want me to snuff under my boot?”

Doc opened his mouth again and Spike held up a hand instantly in defense. “Hey!” he yelled. Not only did the tongue slice into his palm, but it also cut into the side of his face. “Watch it! I’ll get it, but I need some more information! It’s a key, but—hey, this wouldn’t be about that Glory, right?”

“She will not be named! Not by a bottom-feeder like you!”

Before Doc could assault him further with his nasty tongue, Spike punched the man’s mouth, snapping his head to the side. “Lay off! If you want your bloody key, keep the trap shut, man! When do you want this thing by? How much time do I got?”

“Her Splendidness will be coming for her. Then your Slayer will be dead.”

“When?” Spike demanded.

“Soon,” was the only answer Doc gave.

“And her Splendidness is…? Clearly, you’re taken with the bird. We haven’t met. How will I know when I see her?”

“She’s…Glorificus. She’s my Goddess.”

“A god? Well, that’s new.”

“She must have the Key!”

“Why’s that?” Spike asked, only to have Doc lunge at him. Moving quickly, Spike managed to dodge his razor-sharp tongue. He lifted Doc up by his old-man trousers and tossed him behind the bar. “Right, that’d be too easy. I’ll just be on my way.”

“She must have the Key!”

“Overzealous religious lizard,” Spike grumbled, wiping at the blood on his face. He looked at the wound on his chest and sighed. “And how am I going to explain all this to my Slayer?”
***

Chapter 14

“I can explain.”

Three hours after sundown, Spike finally appeared on Buffy’s doorstep, and Buffy was fully prepared to chew him out for making them wait so long.

“It’s about time,” she began, slightly out of breath after racing to beat Dawn to the door. “I’ve been fighting them off for an hour, ever since your last text message. They wanted to send out a freaking search party, Spike. If you tell someone you’re on your way, you should have the decency to—is that blood?”

The scolding Buffy had practiced in her head for the past three hours instantly evaporated, and she stepped forward, closing the door behind her. She didn’t need her mother and sister fussing over him. They’d take one look at his bloody gashes and the torn shirt under his jacket, and fall to pieces.

“Bet it looks worse than it is. I tried to clean up, but--.”

“Are you okay?” His face, his chest, his sloppily bandaged hand… She didn’t know where to look first. She had to take a deep breath. “Spike, what happened?”

Moving in autopilot, she took his face into her hands. She inspected the cut across his cheek. “Your face just healed,” she murmured, running her fingertips along his sharp cheekbones. She smoothed down his hair and assured herself it was merely the polite thing to do. The man couldn’t use a mirror.

Spike swallowed and Buffy found herself struggling against another grin. Not liking him would be easier if his eyes didn’t glisten like that all the time. And did he have to look at her with so much adoration whenever she touched him?

“You haven’t answered my questions. Was it Harmony? What did she send after you this time?”

“A lizard with a razor-sharp tongue.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow and laughed. “A lizard attacked you?”

“Stranger things have happened. Take this very moment, for example.”

“What about it?” She didn’t know what was affecting her more, the stunned look on his face or the desire evident in his voice. She knew at some point that she’d have to snap at him, she’d have to come up with an insult of some kind—she’d have to stop touching him—but she put it all off. “Did you provoke this mean lizard? You must’ve. Look what he did to your new shirt.”

“You noticed it? The shirt?”

“It was hard not to with everybody pointing it out.”

He swallowed again as Buffy nudged the jacket off his shoulders. So squirmy, she thought. Instead of unbuttoning the buttons, she inched the tattered shirt up and up until he cleared his throat.

“It’s, eh, if you’re wondering, it’s not all my blood. I was at the demon bar, you see. I had ordered a drink, and…”

With a wrinkle to her nose, Buffy released his shirt abruptly. Ew! Not Spike’s blood, her brain screamed. Then it continued on more calmly: and when did we decide Spike’s blood wasn’t ew-worthy in the first place? And were you really just about to strip him on your front porch? And why are you so disappointed that he got in a bar fight? Did you really think he’d be held up by something more noble? This is Spike. He chose the bar over you and your family.

“In and out was the plan, but it didn’t pan out,” he continued, somehow reading her mind. “I had no intention of standing you up. You can ask Dawn if you need to; she knew I never stopped thinking about you, not for a minute.”

He motioned past her and Buffy saw Dawn looking at them through the front window. Dawn waved and smiled, probably thinking she had never looked more adorable.

“How long has she been watching? Did she—she saw me pawing at you? Again?” She yanked his shirt down and gestured at his discarded jacket. Before he had it completely on, she grabbed him by the wrist, leading him away from her spying little sister and onto the driveway. “What were you thinking? I’d never let you waltz into my house looking like this. We’d have a major Mom-and-Dawn meltdown on our hands. We need to—I need to clean you up.”

“You need to… You want me to shed my clothes again right here?”

“Wha—no! I want you to-to climb up to my room!”

He blinked, but quickly sobered. “Guess I could do that,” he said, squinting up at her window.

“Of course you can. It’s no big. Climb up, clean up, change, climb back down and walk through the front door like everything’s peachy. It’s a thing I do myself. Often. Just follow me, and…” She glanced down, silently cursing the UC Sunnydale sweatshirt and shorts she had changed into. “Keep your eyes straight ahead and don’t…don’t check out my ass or look under my top, you got it?”

“Got it,” he replied, but not without a muffled laugh. “You need a boost, Slayer?”

“What do you think?”

“Honestly?” He swung his hand a tad, just enough to remind her that she was still holding onto him. When she released him at once, he snorted good-naturedly.

“Shut up,” she grumbled, shooting him a warning glare before starting to climb. Halfway up, against her better judgment, she looked down and noticed his eyes sweeping along her legs. At least she hoped he was only looking at her legs.

Stupid, stupid, she thought as he chuckled from below. You just had to wear nothing under your hoodie, not even a freaking sports bra.

“Slayer, you never fail to surprise me. Just when I’ve got you figured out, you send my head into a bloody tailspin.”

“Be careful or I might knock it clear off.”

“Oooh, scary.”

Reaching her bedroom, she briefly considered pushing him off the trellis to show him just how scary she could be, but instead, she closed her bedroom door, went to the dresser, and scanned through the drawers.

“That wasn’t so bad. So, this way in, it’s well-traveled, you say?”

“I snuck in and out every night while I was in high school. Since I left campus, I’m back at it.”

“And how’s that, being thrust back into the family bosom? Miss your privacy?”

Buffy’s ears perked at the sound of rustling clothes. She looked at him for a second and nearly gasped. A half naked Spike was circling her bed. His muscles rippled as he picked up her stuffed pig, Mr. Gordo, squeezed him like a football, and tossed him aside.

“Uh…” Chill, Buffy, she thought, closing her eyes for a moment. You’ve seen him without a shirt before. You took it off him Tuesday night. Sure, he was practically unconscious and that was before all the kissing—and groping—before you actually knew what it felt like to have your hands on his beefcakey body… “Privacy?” she continued, clearing her throat. “I can’t say I had much in the dorms either.”

“But now you’ve got Little Miss Meddlesome to deal with. Still can’t believe you can’t have a lock on your door. It’s a bloody shame.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Just when she thought she had recovered, she heard her bed squeak. “God damn it, Spike. Please tell me you are not rolling around on my bed.”

“I wouldn’t call it rolling, but I am lounging.”

With her hands full of shirts, she spun around. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

“Like what you see?” Spike was sprawled out on her bed, propped up on bent elbows, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. “Care to join me?”

“Is there a quota on the blood you’d like to shed this month? Tuesday wasn’t bad enough? You picked a bar fight; now you’re going to push my buttons until I beat you to a bloody pulp?”

His smirk died down and he sat up. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, “Pet, can we talk?”

“Why?” She didn’t like the change in his voice. Whenever Spike wanted to talk, she had to yell at him, hit him or, as of recently, kiss him. “Okay, so maybe I won’t beat you up right now. I’ll just decline the offer, sternly, and let you off with a warning. Here are your shirt options, alright? You’ve got: the button-down top, the novelty t-shirt that will definitely be on the snug side, or the forgotten baseball-style shirt of the ex-boyfriend.”

“Which ex?”

“The last one. Can you even imagine Angel in something like this?”

“You kept his shirt? Give me that.”

“I didn’t think that’d be your first choice, but,” she handed it over and watched, eyes wide and mouth open, as Spike ripped Riley’s shirt in half. “Spike! I sleep in that!”

“Not anymore. I’d prefer it if you slept naked anyway.”

“Spike, you—you have no say in what I sleep in!”

“Or don’t sleep in,” she added through clenched teeth before he could make a snide remark. “Stop being ridiculous.”

“You know what would make me truly ridiculous? If I pranced about in—what the hell is the pattern on the first one? Are they tiny cakes?”

“It’s sushi. It’s…it’s my yummy sushi pajama top,” she answered, feeling a sudden rush of embarrassment. “God! I don’t even know why I’m bothering with you! You’re hopeless! If you want to go downstairs looking all Harlequin-romance novel, be my guest! Let my mom and sister ogle your body. Let them ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over your sexy wounds. But I won’t be a part of it!”

“Sexy wounds?”

“Oh, yeah, the cuts are a real turn on; almost as much as the yellow bruises you had before. They make me all hot and trembly!” She balled up the shirts and threw them at him with a frustrated grunt.

“I take it my wounds aren’t so sexy after all?”

Buffy just glared. Then he stood. He put his arms through her pajama top. He looked her squarely in the eyes as he fastened each button.

You were being sarcastic, she reminded herself. You are not feeling hot and-or trembly. Spike doesn’t make you feel that way. His bedroom eyes have no effect on you. He’s just a big vampire freak buttoned up all cozy in your favorite pajama top. He’s bleeding on it. That’s not sexy. That’s far from it.

“Spike,” she sighed. “You weren’t supposed to wear the shirt right now. You’re still…gross.”

“Oh. Right.” He looked down then smiled at her sheepishly. “Had a point to make, got carried away. If it makes you feel any better, everything’s drying up. That’s vamp-healing for you.”

“Just sit down.” She went to her closet and retrieved a hidden first-aid kit, a few towels, and a bottle of water.

“You’re prepared.”

“I have to be. The family bosom requires it.” She knelt in front of him as he sat on the blanket chest at the foot of her bed. “Here’s a PSA—this blanket chest hasn’t held blankets for a very long time. If I hear one wisecrack--.”

“Save the threats. I’ll be a good boy.”

With a huffed “Yeah right” she unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, paused a beat before working on the remaining buttons at a hurried pace, pushing the flannel off his shoulders, and it was her turn to gulp when her fingers accidentally brushed against his defined pectoral muscle and his flat nipple.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, dabbing the dried blood on his chest with a damp towel. She knew vampires couldn’t get infections, but that didn’t stop her from running an alcohol swab along the cut. “If you must talk, tell me about your lizard friend. I’m guessing he’s a demon. Nothing from the pet shop could do this kind of damage. Even the zoo would be a stretch. Unless it was one of those kimono dragons, but I--.”

“Isn’t komodo?”

“But,” she gave him a pointed look that was far from her worst glare, “I doubt anything of the non-demon variety has a tongue that can slice through flesh.” Finished with his chest, she busied herself with unwrapping the ‘bandage’ on his hand. It consisted of rolled toilet paper and paper towels. “For someone who’s had ‘vamp-healing’ for so long, you should’ve known better than to put this stuff against your skin while it heals itself so quickly. You’re lucky. If I would’ve had to tweeze cheap-ass one-ply toilet paper out of your palm, I would not have been happy.”

His hand twitched in her hold. “Not that I’d ever do that,” she added breathlessly, but it was too late. His eyes were fixed on her, visibly love-struck. “Do you want a band-aid on this?”

“Buffy.”

The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine.

Don’t look at him, she thought. Keep your eyes down.

“Spike, get a grip.”

There was a laugh. Lips touched her brow. His free hand caressed her cheek. Fingers combed through her hair, sweeping it off her shoulder.

The moment he licked her neck, she pushed a fresh alcohol swab into his palm. She almost hissed along with him, suffering from a different kind of sting.

“Look at you, fussing over me…my sweet Slayer with your tweezers, bandages and disinfectant…baby, you’ve got me rock hard.”

“Why? Just—why? Why would you say that?” she grumbled, leaning back onto her heels. “Crude, much?”

“Buffy--.”

“And I’m not fussing.” With a determined plop, she sat next to him on the blanket chest and taped an awkwardly large band-aid across his palm. Holding his chin between her thumb and forefinger, she cleaned his cheek. “I need you—Spike, let me finish,” she ground out when the lusty spark in his eyes brightened. “I need you safe, out of trouble, not bleeding, and not even healing. I need you at your best.”

“Right. For babysitting.”

“No, for me,” she corrected hastily. Then she realized what she had said. “Oh, that isn’t—what I meant to say was…uh…”

“Hey now, don’t strain yourself.” Snickering, he snuck under her sweatshirt. He grinned once she caught his hands, flattening one against her stomach and the other against her side.

“You’ve already got me,” he whispered directly into her ear. “I’m yours.”

“Spike, I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“I can’t… Damn it, I can’t worry about you too, okay?”

“Oh, love,” he began tenderly. “Baby, you’ve got no reason to worry about me.”

“No? You’ve been beat up, your place was trashed, your stuff was set on fire and a lizard demon cut you up.”

“Alright, so maybe it’s been a rough week.”

“It’s been three days!”

“Alright, so it’s been three bloody days. It’s nothing to lose your head over.”

She inhaled sharply and he sighed. “I don’t mean to add to your stress, Buffy.”

His thumbs escaped from her hold. They stroked up and down, chipping away at her already-weak resistance.

Buffy took another deep breath. She said his name firmly. She frowned and pulled his hands out from underneath her top.

Before he could look too disappointed, she kissed him squarely on the mouth. It wasn’t a chaste kiss. It was a searching lip lock that would’ve been perfect, but their positioning was all wrong. Right away, she started to move, rubbing her bare legs against his jeans. They moaned in unison when she settled into his lap.

“Spike, we can’t--.”

“Yes, we can.”

He oscillated her hips, grinding her against his elevated zipper over and over again.

No, no, no, she thought, but she hugged her arms tightly around his neck anyway. “Spike. Spike, please… We’ve got to--.”

“Come, I know. I’m working on it. You’re almost there.”

“Am not,” she lied, hiding her face. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was so wrong, but it felt good. Very good. Her shorts were rubbing all the right places, and so was Spike.

“Oh God,” she whimpered, letting out a little sob.

She was on top of Spike. She, the mighty Slayer, was feverishly dry-humping her enemy.

“Buffy, don’t fight it.”

She expected him to touch her then. Her shorts were already bunched as high they would go. He could’ve easily slipped between her legs, but his hands stayed planted on her hips. When they did move, they did nothing but squeeze her to him. He didn’t even try to fondle the bare breasts under her hoodie.

Spike was behaving. It softened her heart, but what an inconvenient time for him to become a gentleman…

“I bloody adore you. Slayer, I love you so much.”

“I know,” she managed to say before he let out a growl. She matched it with another sob. “Shut up, shut up, we’ve got to be quiet.”

She kissed him soundly while her body quaked along with his.

A minute passed, and then it arrived, the moment she’d been dreading. There was a knock on her door and her mother cleared her throat. “Is everything alright in there?”

Buffy flinched but didn’t break away from Spike’s mouth until Joyce knocked again. “Crap,” she whispered. “Maybe if we’re really quiet, she’ll leave.”

“Good plan. Brilliant plan.” Cupping her backside, he kissed her neck and started to rub against her again. Every move he made was slower, more deliberate.

“Spike, this wasn’t what I had in mind. Knock it off.”

Through the door, she could hear her mother’s sigh. “I know you can hear me. Tell me is Spike alright? Buffy, is he hurt? I heard about a fire. Your friend Harmony ransacked his home? She’s a…a vampire? Is this true? Did Spike have anything to do with her becoming one of those things? And—how on earth did you sneak him up to your room?”

“Dawn has such a big mouth,” Buffy grumbled, no longer caring if her mom heard her or not. “Spike’s fine. He didn’t kill Harmony. He didn’t turn her either. Harmony died at graduation. She became a vampire at the same time. She’s his ex, okay? They dated…you know, if you actually consider a string of booty calls as dating.” Instantly annoyed, Buffy grabbed a fistful of Spike’s hair, and pulled, bringing him out of the curve of her neck, putting an end to his kisses. “And Harmony was not my friend.”

“Oh.” Joyce let out a relieved laugh. “For a second I thought Spike might be dangerous.”

“He is dangerous, but not in a traditional or normal way. He can’t bite anyone, remember? He can’t kill humans…he can only pester and harass them until they want to kill themselves.”

“Oh, good, then it’s alright that I set up the guestroom for him. He’s welcome to stay for as long as he needs to, but I’d appreciate it if he slept downstairs and not in your room, Buffy.”

“Mom.” She froze, still clutching Spike’s hair. She wanted to tell her mother it was crazy to even assume he would sleep in her room, in her bed, but she couldn’t get the words out.

“And if he does wander back upstairs during the night, please keep it down. It is a school night.”

“Mom,” she groaned.

Spike cracked a smile.

Buffy looked away.

“If he needs something to sleep in, I have some clothing of Hank’s in the back of my closet.”

“Thank you, Joyce,” Spike answered, his voice silky-smooth. “Can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“Oh, it’s the least we can do,” Joyce replied. “Alright, as much as I love standing here, chatting through this closed door, the day is catching up with me and--.”

“Go rest, mom. I’ll send him downstairs in a minute. You can finish visiting. He can eat cold pizza with Dawn while I…do something else.”

Like hide, she finished silently. I’ll run for cover as soon as I get off of Spike—oh my God. I just got off with Spike. I jumped him. I made him come in his pants.

“There’s no reason to be jealous, dear. I said you could have Spike all to yourself once he showed up and I meant it. Dawn and I will give you some privacy…well, as long as you stay quiet. I know you’re an adult, but we have to have some rules in this house.”

Buffy stared ahead as her face flushed, a deep frown on her face. “And the humiliation just keeps coming…”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. Just saying thanks, mom.”
***

Chapter 15

“How much do you think my mom heard?”

“Can’t say for certain, but her timing was spot-on.”

“I told you we had to be quiet. You didn’t listen.”

“I wasn’t the one making all the noise.”

“That’s not true.” With one hand still embedded in Spike’s hair, Buffy wrapped her free arm snuggly around his neck. She let out a sigh and allowed her cheek fall against his cool skin. “I wasn’t noisy,” she grumbled a minute later. “She probably didn’t hear that much. She’s just teasing me. Everyone gets such a kick out of picking on me nowadays. Dawn’s relentless. Mom’s just jumping on the bandwagon. It wasn’t like this before, you know. It’s your fault.”

“Of course. Why not? Is there anyone else you’d even consider holding responsible? Anyone besides me?”

Buffy shook her head, and as Spike chuckled, she tugged the bleached blond strands on the back of his head. “My relationship with Riley was never a big deal,” she explained. “It wasn’t the topic of conversation. No one ever mocked me or went out of their way to tease me because of it.”

“That’s probably because your big hulking ex was about as interesting as a box of rocks. Let’s measure up the corn-fed, mad cow-ridden Cub Scout to the likes of yours truly--.”

“Let’s not. Spike, you’re a total creep. I can’t talk to you about Riley. I won’t.”

“Alright,” he said, lowering his voice to a seductive murmur. “Don’t talk to me, don’t include me; do it yourself. You think back to how you acted around your Riley and compare it to how you are with me, to how you were with me just now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And that’s your problem. Your words, your actions—they aren’t meeting up where I’m concerned. That’s why they’re teasing you. You might be as stubborn as hell, but your family’s picking up on all of it. And you can’t blame the girls for finding some amusement in your behavior, Buffy. You say you can’t stand me, that I annoy you, that you hate me, but here we are.”

“None of that’s my fault.”

“Oh yes, you’re completely innocent.” He snorted softly into her hair. “So what’s the story behind that pout then? What about that blush you’re trying so desperately to hide? Burying your pretty pink face into my neck won’t cut it. You’ve gone red all over, baby. You’re always warm, but now, holding you is like cradling a ball of fire.” As he spoke against her ear, his hand wandered. His long fingers slipped between her parted legs; they sought out the fullest part of her thigh and squeezed. “You’re glowing again, Buffy.”

“Spike…no,” she croaked, unable to think or speak clearly faced with the intimacy of his impromptu massage. “I’m not… I don’t… Spike, you’re dumb. Shut up.”

“My God, you are so bloody sweet. If you’d only release my hair from your clutches, I’d gobble you right up. You wouldn’t hear a peep from me for the rest of the night.”

“Yeah right. As if that’s even--.” She cut herself off to let out a throaty groan. He had slipped through the folds of her shorts, making contact with her damp underwear. He teased her with a collection of maddening squeezes to her inner thigh and feathery light strokes from his thumb until she whimpered, “I hate you. You’re trying to kill me.”

“Frustrating, isn’t it? Wanting, but not receiving in full? Take me for example. I’ve got you exactly where I’ve wanted you—where I’ve dreamed of having you for months now—and you won’t look at me. I’ve got you nestled in my lap, and I can’t even reach to kiss you properly. You and your bloody Slayer-death grip. Can’t move my head, can’t see, I can touch but…pet, it’s a fucking travesty.”

A funny feeling bubbled up from her heart; it caused her chest to tighten. Licking her lips, she backed away from the safety of the crook of his shoulder. She glanced at him and flushed again. A new wave of warmth flooded through her body down to her toes.

“Happy now?” she asked, releasing his hair. She smoothed it down by running her fingers through it.

“Ecstatic, but I didn’t mean for you to blush again. There’s no need for that.”

“Tell that to my face. I never embarrass easily. Not usually. I hate it, and it’s--.”

“All my fault?”

“You could’ve just asked like a normal person. But no, you say you want to ‘gobble’ me up. That’d be gross even if you weren’t a vampire.”

“Right, so poor word choice justifies yanking my hair out by the roots. Good to know.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth, but before she could get a word out, Spike was kissing her soundly. Taken by surprise, she let out a pleased moan. The crotch of her underwear was soon pushed aside and she moaned again. When the pad of his thumb slipped against her swollen clit, she cried into his mouth. His middle finger slid in and out of her less than a dozen times, and she lost it.

“Spike!”

“Hush. Remember, kitten, someone might overhear your demure yet somehow still-deafening screams of pleasure, and we don’t want mummy or little sis spoiling our fun.”

“You’re a creep,” she said, pushing her face into his neck once again, dotting the area with frantic kisses. Greedily, she stroked his beautifully sculpted abs and strong arms. “You had to prove me wrong. You’re a smartass and so freaking smug that I could just…”

“Squeal again?”

She shook her head, even as she let out another whimper. She clung to him, holding on tightly as his fingers coaxed her body into a lingering orgasm. “You’re still a jerk,” she gasped as her heart pounded.

“Just when I thought I couldn’t get anymore head over bloody heels…” Spike snickered happily. “Buffy, you’re perfection. Haven’t seen anything like it, the way you respond to me. Haven’t even gotten inside you yet and it’s remarkable. Your Riley had to work for it, didn’t he? From my post out front—even by your dorm, I never heard you make such a delightful racket.”

“From your—what? Out where?”

Spike froze, but his silence spoke volumes. “I can explain.”

“Don’t bother.” She didn’t try to disguise the disappointment in her voice. “You spied on me.”

“I…did. But I just listened. Mostly.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she said, lifting off his body. As she yanked on the hem of her shorts, Spike grabbed her forearms and she flinched. She saw his middle finger glisten. She felt it, wet against her skin.

“Baby, please. We were getting somewhere. We were making brilliant progress. You want me--.”

“I want a normal boyfriend, not a stalker! I want—gah! You make everything so difficult! You’re obsessed, Spike! You watched me from your ‘post’? What the hell does that even mean?”

“It’s just a series of trees!” he answered hastily, refusing to let go as she squirmed. He kept her hovering above him and straddling his legs. “I squat under the sodding tree in your yard and the one outside your dorm—had another spot near the frat until Finn left, alright? I think, I smoke, I look after you--.”

“When you aren’t stealing from me so you can have authentic props for your trashy sex games? And I love the present tense. When did you watch me last?”

“Does it matter? It won’t happen again.”

“It matters. Answer the question.”

“I’m out there nightly if I can help it.”

“I don’t even…nightly?”

“You’ve got to stake me now, don’t you? I’ve given you no choice. A few days out of the month might’ve been forgivable, but every night? It’s too much. I come across as a total wanker.”

“That, and a perv. A big giant perv with no self-control who doesn’t give a damn about me or my privacy.”

He nodded, loosening the grip on her forearms. His fingers slid down and barely circled around her wrists. “I don’t know why I seem so hell-bent on mucking this up. My mouth—Buffy, we should just muzzle it. Lock it up and toss away the key. I haven’t even told you about Doc and I’m already about to lose you.”

“Spike…” She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She had never experienced so many conflicting emotions. She found his stalker-like behavior disgusting, but his distress was bothering her. It was bothering her so much that she wanted to reassure him somehow, even as a part of her screamed that he didn’t deserve it. And, underneath it all, her stubborn attraction to him was buzzing in high gear, making all her feelings a great deal more complicated.

“Hey, don’t be so dramatic,” she continued. “You’ll probably offend me. You’ll make me mad—I have no doubts about that—but… Spike, you won’t ‘lose’ me.”

“Because I never had you in the first place. I know that’s what you’re about to say, but hear me out. This is more than an obsession. You’ve got to believe that. My feelings are heartfelt, genuine--.”

“You just have your own unique and slightly demented way of showing them?”

“Well, that’s true. I haven’t had to worry about adhering to the good and proper for a very long time—hell, even back in my human-days, I was miserable at it.”

“Like when you wrote love poems for that girl who barely knew your name in the eighteen-hundred-whatevers?”

She asked the question with a slight smile and a simple plan in mind. She’d lightly tease him and give him a hard time about the importance of privacy until he learned the error of his ways. Then they’d be fine. They’d move on. Buffy didn’t know what they’d move on toward, but she secretly just wanted to get back on top of him. She wanted him to kiss her and touch her. She had thought his lips were freakishly talented, but his fingers left her panting for more.

However as soon as she got the question out, she knew she’d made a mistake. She watched his expression change. They were slight changes: a set jaw, a puckered brow and a slant to his eyes, but they all meant that she’d accidentally hit a soft spot.

“Yeah, that’s exactly it,” he answered with a roll of his eyes. “When I wrote my God-awful love poems for a chit who didn’t give a fig about me. She didn’t care, but that didn’t stop her from ripping my heart to pieces. If you recall it’s quite the sob story. I’d give you a refresher but, it’s only been a week or so since our sit down at the Bronze and I doubt you could afford the price I’d charge for the recap.”

“Spike, I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t worry about it. So you took some awkward details from my past and threw them in my face. Was a good line, wasn’t it? A fantastic put down: you’re beneath me. I had it coming that night anyway. I agreed to flaunt my glory days. I took your money. I disclosed too much. I was being a dick, I pushed too hard, so you used what I told you to your advantage. Once again, everything circles back to my big mouth. Funny, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think it’s funny at all. You were being honest with me, and I—I was mad at the whole world and took it out on you. Riley had just left, that random vampire had nearly killed me with my own stake, my mom had just… You don’t need to hear excuses. I shouldn’t have said that you were beneath me. I’m sorry.”

Spike just looked at her, and she stared back. They stayed silent until Spike cleared his throat. “You know,” he began, giving her wrists a gentle squeeze, “I wasn’t fishing for an apology.”

“You got one anyway.”

“I should apologize too, shouldn’t I? You’d like that. But what if I won’t mean it? Blame the lacking soul, but I don’t regret watching you. I do regret witnessing Captain Cardboard bust one off, but--.”

“Spike!”

She poked him in the stomach and the next moments were a frenzied blur. She continued to poke at him, and they weren’t exactly love taps, but she made a point not to hurt him. And he laughed as he dodged her pointy finger until she surprised him by climbing back into his lap.

“Oh, Buffy.” He said her name with a moan and deep inhale. Then he was giving her mooneyes again. A hand was running along her thigh. Another was under her sweatshirt, against her side, stroking her bare skin. “Thank God, pet. I thought--.”

“Is there anything else I need to know about? For this thing between us to have even the tiniest chance of working out, you can’t—no more stealing, go easy on the spying, and no—if I see you within three feet of Harmony or any other blonde Buffy-wannabe, I’ll kill you. I mean it.”

“Got it. Got it. But why would I bother with any of that when I’ve got the real deal? Seriously, everything else is and was just a sorry substitute for you.”

She dug her teeth into her bottom lip, forcing herself not to smile. “Is there anything else?”

“I had a shrine. That’s where I had your stuff before Harm’s bonfire. Not everything on it was stolen. Had some found objects too. Never been above diving through a dumpster.”

“Is that your way of saying you went through my trash? Spike, that’s--.” He broke her off with a deep kiss that left her breathless and her brain fuzzy. It was especially difficult to concentrate since he’d waited until then to brush against her hard nipples for the first time. “Isn’t there something else? Spike, um…what did you say before? Why did you think you’d lose me?”

“Don’t bother yourself with that now. How about we move this to the bed?”

“You said something about…Doc? Who’s that?”

“Please, can’t it wait? And if sound’ll be such an issue, let’s go. You can scream your head off at my place.”

“We can’t,” she said, closing her eyes as Spike pulled her sweatshirt over her head. “Your place is wrecked.”

“The bed’s alright. So’s most of the recliner, about a third of the couch and a good ten-by-ten inch square on the makeshift countertop. The walls are still standing and there’s always the bloody floor. Got a new rug just yesterday we could break in.”

She blinked. “You want to have sex on all those things?”

“Don’t you?” he asked gently before licking her right nipple and taking it into his mouth. He snickered once she dug her fingers into his hair. “You’re blushing again, aren’t you, baby?”

“I’m not.”

“You are, and I love it.” He licked a trial from her breast to her neck and kissed the rest of the way up to her lips. “I love you. Might not show it in the best or most socially acceptable ways, but I’ll work on it. You’ll tell me how to right my wrongs, won’t you, Buffy? I’ll do anything you say.” He brought her against him, pushing their naked upper bodies together. And as he kissed her, Buffy snaked between them to pull down the zipper of his jeans.

“We can’t leave because of the girls, am I right?”

“I was wondering if you’d figure that out on your own.”

“And you’ll be quiet?”

“I doubt it. Apparently, you aren’t the only one in need of a muzzle. And I figure, since I’m destined to get both called out and ridiculed anyway… You can’t get anymore carpe diem than this.”

As she spoke, she stroked him then she took him into her hand and explored his erection from base to tip. She marveled at how hard he was. And it was all for her, because of her. Because he loved her. “God, Spike, when I said you had no self-control… I had no idea…”

“You didn’t?”

“Okay, maybe I had some idea,” she mumbled while kissing his chest. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t aware of your bulgy pants, but a girl can still be a little overwhelmed, right?”

“Buffy.”

“Everything about you is overwhelming. It’s bugged me for a long time, but now? It’s not so bad.”

“Buffy—oh fuck. Kitten, hold on,” he said through clenched teeth, just as Buffy thought she’d found a good rhythm. “Hold on, you’ve got to stop.”

“Why? Did I--.”

“Just listen.”

She paused and heard feet against the stairs. They were heading toward Buffy’s room. And at a quick pace. Whispering a curse, she leapt away from the blanket chest. “It’s Dawn.”

“I know, but, pet--.”

“Mom will wait in the hallway. She’ll even count to five before entering the room after a knock. But Dawn? She’s going to bust through my door in about two seconds. I need to get rid of her.”

“Buffy!” her sister yelled. “Telephone!”

“Who is it?!” Buffy yelled back as she pulled her sweatshirt over her head.

“Giles!” Dawn answered.

“Tell him to wait a minute!”

“Should I hide in the closet? Scurry under the bed?”

From the strain in his voice, Spike didn’t seem ready or prepared to do any of those things. But the offer alone made Buffy’s lower lip jut out sympathetically.

“You just sit there,” she said. “I’ll take the call in the hall and while I’m out there, especially if I’m gone too long, or, if you, um, get too uncomfortable--.”

“Get to the point, pet.”

“Just do, you know, whatever you need to do.”

“Whatever I need to do?”

“Oh, don’t make me say it. I don’t want you internally combusting, okay?” She ran toward the clothes hamper, dug out her laciest pair of dirty underwear and tossed them at him. “That should do the trick, right? Isn’t that how sickos like you get off?”

“Usually,” Spike responded with a muted, but amused chuckle. “Especially as of late.”

“’Kay, um, on that note, I gotta…” She gestured toward the door and slipped through it. She took one step into the hallway and collided with Dawn, who had had her ear pressed against Buffy’s door.

“I didn’t hear anything!” her sister gasped, instantly defensive as Buffy slammed the door shut behind her.

“And why do I not believe you?”

“I—I told Giles you were busy, but I didn’t tell him that you were…” With her hand over the receiver, Dawn shook the phone toward Buffy’s bedroom. “I mean, yeesh, I thought you’d be done sexing him up by now. You’ve been in there forever. I can’t believe you made him climb through your window.”

“I was keeping him away from you.”

“Really? You’re kidding.”

“Dawn, I didn’t hear the phone ring.”

“Oh, that’s because I called Giles. He asked for someone to call with an update on mom once we got home, and since you were too busy, I did it, and you’re welcome. Hey, since you’re out here, can I see Spike now? Buffy, I need to talk to him. It’s important.”

“No,” Buffy said, blocking the doorknob with her body before Dawn could reach for it. “Just give me the phone and no one will get hurt.”

“Is he—oh my God, he’s naked in there? Is he—oh my God. Did you really—oh my God!” Dawn tried to jump for the doorknob again, but Buffy grabbed her.

“What is your problem?!” she demanded, giving the girl a shake. “Keep your raging teenage hormones away from my vampire! He’s too old for you and he’s—he’s only interested in me so leave him alone!”

Buffy expected Dawn to cower, but instead she laughed out loud. “Oh, wow. I bet he’s crapping himself right now. For you to do a three-sixty since dinner—damn, he must be good.”

As Dawn cackled, Buffy ignored her. With wide eyes, she stared ahead and silently panicked.

I said that he was mine, she thought. Out loud. Dawn heard. He heard it too.

“Buffy. Hey, Buff, it’s okay,” Dawn said, patting her on the shoulder. “I wasn’t serious. As much I wouldn’t mind seeing him naked--.” Buffy gave her a harsh glare, and Dawn laughed again. “I know he’s into you and only you. We talked about it before, Buffy. He’s all yours. Clearly you guys are meant to be, because you’re almost as lame as your new boyfriend.”

“Dawn.” She sighed and held out her hand. “Give me the phone. You should be downstairs studying for your math test tomorrow. Three hundred and sixty degrees is a complete circle. One-eighty is half way. That’s when you turn and head in the opposite direction.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s good to know. Now I’ll get it right when I tell mom about this in the morning.”

Buffy cringed. She squeezed the phone in her fist.

“Mom said he couldn’t sleep in your room. Remember that. I don’t need to hear you guys going at it all night. It’ll give me nightmares or something. I’ll fail my test because your irresponsible boinking.”

Buffy closed her eyes and counted to ten. She made sure her sister was out of sight before reentering her room. “Hi, Giles,” she said, sighing heavily. With her back against the door, she sank down and sat crossed-legged on the carpet. “You still there? Sorry about the delay and I’m currently praying to God you didn’t hear any of that. What’s up? How’s the all-night study group going? Have you learned anything?”

She only half-listened as Giles reported that they were no closer to finding out what Glory was after hours of non-stop research. She was too busy gathering the courage to look toward her bed. And, once her eyes darted in that direction, she found that Spike wasn’t where she’d left him. He was walking around, still topless, but with his jeans fastened. He was opening drawers, thumbing through her closet and touching just about anything he could get his hands on.

Buffy was making a mental note to strip search him later for any stolen belongings when Giles cleared his throat for a third time. “I’m sorry. So, we’re getting nowhere. Glory’s still a big question mark. We have no idea what kind of demon she is. I guess I’ll be rejoining the study group tomorrow. I might even bring an extra set of eyes with me.”

Spike turned at that. He pointed to his chest and wrinkled his nose when she nodded. “But I know what she is. She isn’t a demon. Glory’s a bloody god.”

“What? What did you say? Sorry, Giles. Hold please.”

“She’s a god,” Spike repeated. “I thought you knew. She probably isn’t in any of those moldy old books of your Watcher’s ‘cause she predates the written word.”

“How…?” Buffy shook her head. She took her hand off the cell phone’s receiver and told Giles what she’d learned. “I’ll call you if I find out more. Apparently I can do my own kind of research tonight from home. I’ve got a source. I’ll squeeze him for information and get back to you.”

“Not until tomorrow,” Spike whispered. “It’ll take all night to get me talking and it’ll require a hell of a lot of bloody squeezing.”

“Spike,” she mouthed back. “This is serious.”

“I know it is. She’s after you, wants you dead. That’s nothing new, but she’s after something. Something specific. A key. The lizard from the bar, the bloke with the tongue? He said she’s going to come here for the key if I don’t bring it to him. Wouldn’t say when, but tell your Watcher you’re in good hands. Spike isn’t gonna let anything happen to you.”

“Does she know where I live?” Buffy demanded, speaking in full voice to Spike and ignoring Giles. “Is she coming to my house?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I understood, but you know how we evil-types boast. Doc worships that Glory bird, he’s going to oversell what she knows and what she can do, it’s a given. Slayer, I think it’d be best if we just--.”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Giles, can you come over? Bring weapons. Spike and I are going out.”
***

Chapter 16

After ending the call from her Watcher, Buffy stood up. She took three determined steps in Spike’s direction before she started to take off her clothes. She discarded her sweatshirt first, and then her shorts fell past her ankles.

“So,” Spike began, watching her with his head slightly cocked to one side. “You’re half naked.”

“That’s because I’m changing.” Her fingers hooked underneath the elastic band of her underwear, but she hesitated. “Spike, turn your back.”

“You think modesty’s still necessary?” he asked only to receive a glare. Scratching his brow with his little finger, he turned and gazed at the other side of the room. “You said we were going out, right? Where are we headed to exactly?”

“The bar. We’ll find your friend Doc, we’ll make him tell us everything he knows, and then we’ll kill him. Somewhere in there you’ll tell me everything you know, you’ll explain why you didn’t tell me about Glory before now and maybe I won’t have to kill you too.”

“Buffy, I swear that I didn’t--.” He spun around and froze, suddenly faced with an entirely nude Slayer. She screeched out something, but he didn’t hear it. She gestured at him impatiently, but he ignored that too.

“Will you snap out of it?” she demanded. Grabbing his forearms, she pulled him aside and away from the dresser. “We’ve got to get moving. Giles will be here any minute.”

“If you’d only hear me out, I could explain. I could--.” His glimmer of coherency vanished as she turned her back, bent over, and pulled a surprisingly frilly yet tastefully ruffled pair of boy shorts up to her hips. “Buffy… My God, pet, where have you been hiding those?”

She shot him a mildly annoyed look from over her shoulder, but it didn’t faze Spike. He held a palm against her backside and let the soft little black ruffles glide between his fingers.

“Stop it,” she said, her voice stern but breathy. “Do you have any idea how serious this is?”

“Not really.” He tickled along her spine and was pleased to see goose bumps pop up all over her skin. “Everyone wants the bloody key,” he mumbled, kissing the top of her shoulder. “I couldn’t care less. There’s only one thing I want and she’s standing right in front of me.”

“Spike.” With a sigh, she sought out a black bra from her underwear drawer. She looped the straps over her shoulders and sighed again as Spike situated the lightly padded cups and fastened the tiny hooks along her back. “You’ve really got some nerve.”

“What do you mean?” he asked innocently, although his palms were still against her breasts. He placed another kiss into the curve of her neck and squeezed her through the bra’s satiny fabric. “We’re in a rush. I’m helping.”

“Yeah right,” she laughed, closing her eyes as he continued to kiss her skin. “If I’m not dressed… Spike, if I’m not downstairs by the time Giles gets here, you’re staying.”

“Staying?” Stepping closer, he pushed his chest flush against her back. “Staying where, baby?”

“Here.” She turned her head to face him and swallowed, finding his lips barely an inch from her own. “I will leave you behind. You can stay with Giles or you can go somewhere else if you must, but I’ll go after Doc alone.”

“But why would you want to do that?”

“Because I need to keep my head clear,” she replied quietly, eyes still on his mouth. “I have planning to do. I have a god and a lizard-demon to worry about, and you… Just being around you tonight has made my head all…mushy.”

“Now that sounds bloody serious.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “I need to get dressed,” she said, although she was already edging forward like a moth surrendering to a flame. “Giles, Dawn… We’ll be interrupted again. And I really…I really should get dressed.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled before pressing her lips against his. She let out a content little groan and kept their kiss achingly soft until the doorbell rang. “This is exactly what I wanted to avoid! I just want to…” She stopped speaking, but voiced her frustration further by capturing his mouth again. She pushed her way into Spike’s arms and greedily devoured him.

“Oh God,” she gasped, forcing herself to end their lip-lock too soon. “I can’t—what the hell is wrong with me? I hate this so much! I’m starting to think we should just do it, just to get it over with!”

“Do you really feel that way?”

“I…I don’t know. Maybe?” She avoided his eyes, knowing her cheeks were becoming rosy. “It’d bring us some relief, wouldn’t it? I mean, it can’t be like this all the time…right? It’s crazy sexual tension. It’s unrequited…stuff. We’re all hot and bothered now, but—it shouldn’t be like this, especially at this, um, fever pitch all the time.”

“Is that your way of saying you think it’ll take just one quick shag to get me out of your system? We’ll give it a go once and it’ll be enough to fuck out all the attraction—the sparks, the inconvenient little achies? Slayer, it warms my heart knowing you think so much of me and our budding relationship.”

She grimaced at his sarcasm, but before she could say another word, her sister knocked on the door. “Dawn, stay out! Give us another five minutes!”

“Bump it up to fifteen and we’ll test out your crackpot theory. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Wha—no!” Buffy whispered. “We will not—there is no-no good reason to make Giles wait.”

“Guys? Is everything okay in there?” Dawn asked through the door.

“Yes,” Buffy insisted a little too loudly. “Tell Giles I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes.”

“I already said that a few minutes ago,” her sister sighed. “Buffy, Giles seems really antsy. How much longer will you really be? What should I tell him?

“She’ll be down in half an hour, forty minutes tops.”

“Spike, no,” Buffy hissed between clenched teeth.

“Why not?” He stepped forward, and for every step he took, Buffy shuffled backward until her legs were pressed into the edge of her bed.

“What I said—I was being stupid.” She let out a hushed groan as Spike kissed her. “But Dawn…”

“She’s gone. Downstairs. Out of earshot. The chit’s complaining about you as we speak.” With each pause, he gave her a gentle close-lipped kiss. “Come on now. Let’s not waste any time. I know you’re ready for me, Buffy.” His fingers slipped under the band of her underwear and she was already breathing heavy. “You’re soaked, aren’t you, love? You want relief; let me give that to you.”

“But—but rushing, rushing isn’t good.”

“Why should we be leisurely about it? We’re just getting it over with, yeah?”

“Yeah—well, no—I mean… God, you’re such a--.”

“Creep?” he suggested after stealing away her words by letting the boy shorts drop to her ankles. “Keep that up, and I’ll start considering it a term of endearment. You’d better lie back, pet, I see your knees quaking. I’d promise that I’d take you standing up next time, but since there won’t be a next time…”

“You’re evil.”

“I’m glad you haven’t forgotten,” he remarked with a grin. He hoped to have even the slightest wicked gleam in his eyes, but he doubted it. With his Slayer sprawled out, naked from the waist down, patiently waiting to be filled by his aching erection, his smile couldn’t have been more genuine. She looked lovely: pouting, with a halo of stuffed animals and girlie pillows floating above her head. As much as it pained him to think he’d only get a few minutes inside her fiery little body during their first romp, he was confident she’d be begging him for a second, third, and fourth go-round.

“My silly, sweet Slayer…” He pushed his knees into her bed, straddling her body. He kept on all fours as he hovered above her. “Baby, open up,” he said gruffly. “Put your legs around me.”

“That’s it. Now that’s my girl,” he moaned, resting his weight in the cradle of her thighs, reveling in the feel of her arms around him. “My God, you’re warm. You’re gonna burn me up.”

His mouth found hers as he began rocking his clothed hips against her naked core. He tried to swallow up her sultry groans, but he let a few slip through on purpose just because he’d never heard a sexier sound.

“Spike… Spike, don’t.” She squeezed him with a double-dose of Slayer-strength once he tried to break their contact to unzip his jeans.

“But--.”

“I’ll do it.”

“You’d better, I don’t think I can move now. Your legs and arms are around me so tight—you’ve got me pinned, Slayer.”

“Was I hurting you?” She unhooked her legs from his lower back. “I’m sorry.”

He just blinked as she caressed his face.

“Um, hello? You’re not answering me,” she pointed out with a short laugh. “Spike, why do you look at me like that all time? It kinda freaks me out.”

“Because every time you show me a bit of kindness, I lose my head. I fall madly in love with you all over again. Yeah, that’s right,” he said once she took a deep breath from beneath him. “I’m a bloody poof, but I can’t help it. In these past few days you’ve been giving my heart one hell of a fucking workout.”

“Oh.” Her voice dropped. “Mystery solved then.”

“Buffy?” He was afraid he’d said too much, that he’d been too honest with her until he saw her blink away a tear. “Hey, you can’t go soft on me, kitten. I’m softhearted—and softheaded—enough for the both of us.”

“You’re such a strange vampire. You don’t even have a soul, but the things you say…”

“Tell me about it. I’m an embarrassment. A bloody fraud is what I am.”

Her arms wove tightly around his neck and she moved her head again. It wasn’t quite a nod or a shake; it was more like bobble. She reactivated their oscillating hips with a sigh. “I think you’re special,” she mumbled as quietly as possible. “And annoyingly sweet. I’ve never met anyone like you, vampire or otherwise.”

“Do you mean it?”

She answered him with a kiss before saying, “I want you.”

Spike reached between them, not about to make her wait. He quickly unzipped his jeans, but took his time pushing his erection through her slick opening. “My God, Buffy,” he croaked, afraid he’d come from the penetration alone. “I can’t—I can’t even…”

He filled his lungs with air and desperately tried to compose himself.

But she sabotaged his efforts. She bucked her hips against him impatiently, not once but twice. Hidden muscles squeezed his cock, demanding his attention.

“Love, as much as I appreciate the enthusiasm, you’ve got to stop working against me. I’m trying to prolong this. I want to make it good for you, but you’ve got me shaking in my boots like an inexperienced schoolboy. Can’t you see that?”

“But don’t you have lots of experience?”

“Nothing could prepare me for you. Never had a human, definitely never had a Slayer, and you…” Smiling, he nipped at her mouth. “You’re perfection. It’s about to do me in.”

“We have no time.” She rubbed her pelvis against his, causing him to grit his teeth. “You don’t need to show off. You’ve already won me over. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he answered dumbly, staring down at her in awe.

“So have your way with me already. Yesh.” She flashed him a playful look, but became serious once her hands cupped his backside, trying to push him in deeper. “Please?”

“For the record, I still think you deserve more than a quickie.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know.” She met each thrust eagerly once he started to move within her. “I’d like to decide for myself. This is my first quickie.”

“What?”

“Spike! Don’t you dare stop!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I forgive you,” she moaned once he started to slip and slide inside her again. “Oh God, I forgive you.”

“You’re a fucking goddess. I absolutely adore you.”

“Aaaah.” She squeezed her eyes shut as her body started to spasm violently from the inside out. Her fingers grabbed and scratched. Her mouth licked and kissed all the pale skin that came within her reach.

“Oh good lord,” he croaked, finding himself pulled headfirst into her cleavage as she strangled his throbbing cock. She hugged his head, petted his hair and dotted his face with unbelievably sweet kisses. Blinded by each exquisite sensation—suffering from a complete Buffy overload—he didn’t notice that he’d shifted into his vampire guise as an orgasm rocked his entire body from head to toe. He also had no idea that his teeth had slid into her soft skin until he tasted her blood in his mouth.

A mixture of a sob and snarl erupted from the back of his throat. He hadn’t had blood straight from the source in ages. And this blood, Slayer blood, Buffy’s blood, was delectable. Spike had no idea why the chip wasn’t functioning properly, and he couldn’t care less. He was inside his Slayer, pounding relentlessly between her legs and she was still matching him thrust for thrust. She hadn’t pushed him away, even when his demon had popped out, even as his fangs had plunged into her breast.

“I love you,” he declared, taking one last pull from the red bite marks before collapsing, panting and completely spent. His nose brushed against satin, and he ripped it away without a second though.

“Hey, that was my good bra!”

“Should’ve gotten rid of it before. Forgot,” he mumbled, nuzzling her naked breasts with his cheek. “You wore your good bra for me?”

“What a dumb idea, right?” With an eye roll, she tunneled her fingers through his hair. “You were more interested in the underwear I dug out of the bargain bin. You know, I got those the night I found Harmony at the mall.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It was a good sale. I don’t think I’d risk my life over ten pairs of underwear for six dollars like your ex-bimbo, but it was a really great sale.”

Grinning, he leaned forward to kiss her. The simple movement sent a jolt to their intimately connected parts.

“Spike, we really…we still need to go.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“You don’t get a choice. Or at least I don’t. Duty’s calling.”

He withdrew from her reluctantly and rolled onto his back. He tucked his hands behind his head, not bothering to pull up the jeans from where they gathered at his thighs. As Buffy scampered away, he watched her dress with a smirk on his face. “But if you had a choice? Baby, answer me this, wouldn’t you rather have me still nestled deep inside you?”

“I am not answering that.”

“You’re blushing again.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Well, gee, Spike, let me think it over.” She already had her pants on and she was pulling a v-necked sweater over yet another matching set of undergarments. “Would I rather go to a nasty smelly old demon bar, where I have to question and kill a nasty smelly old demon? Or would I rather stay here and have post-sex cuddles with my not-so-nasty, completely unsmelly demon boyfriend? I don’t know, it’s a toss up.”

“Boyfriend?”

Her eyes grew, as if she hadn’t realized what she had said. Her blush spread. “I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, yes, you very-well did.”

“I didn’t—Spike, stay back.” She spun around as he rolled off her bed. “Don’t come near me until your pants are up and zipped.”

“You find me too tempting?”

“Too revolting.”

“Is that any way to speak to your new beau?” He turned her back around and watched in amusement as she suspiciously eyed his crotch. “All’s tucked away. You’re safe for now.”

“I doubt it,” she grumbled.

“Slayer, you said I was your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, maybe I did, you want to make something of it?” She crossed her arms, daring him to make a wisecrack. “It’s just a label. It’s no big. You don’t even need to make mooneyes over it. Maybe I’m dumb or old-fashioned, but I don’t take what just happened lightly. I’m not a one-time girl.”

“But you said--.”

“I lied! The stuff I said it was just…stuff! I was frustrated and horny and,” she took deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“You just spouted off nonsense to get your way into my pants?” He tried not to laugh, but it was difficult. She looked so bashful. And the more defensive she became because of that embarrassment, the more endearing Spike found her. “I feel so…used. I’m impressed, love.”

“Shut up,” she demanded with a glare. “Don’t tease me. I’m being serious. You can’t say the things you say without consequences. You shower me with compliments, you tell me that you love me over and over, and we—we did it. You’re now in boyfriend territory, mister, whether you want to be or not.”

Spike stared at her, letting each word sink into his sex-fogged brain. Did she really think he wouldn’t want to be with her? Maybe her brain was as fogged up as his. “So, does this mean we’re dating, like, exclusively?”

“Just try cheating on me. I dare you.”

“I didn’t mean that. Will your friends and family know about us?”

“My family knew about us before I did,” she answered quietly. “And my friends…we’ll ease them into it. We may not tell them for a little while, not until they’re used to having you around…not until I’m used to having you around.”

“And I’ll be around a lot, would you say?”

“Well, we’re aren’t getting married and you’re not moving in.”

“I’m glad we’ve got that settled,” he said with another thinly veiled smile.

“You’ll just help me.” She tried to play cool as Spike cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “A-and I’ll help you.”

“How?”

“Um,” she closed her eyes once he lightly kissed her lips. “Free bodyguard service?”

“That’s it?”

“What, are we negotiating this? Maybe I should take back my offer.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he snickered. He deepened their kiss and guided her into his arms. “You’re mine now, aren’t you, Buffy? Just like I’m your vampire?”

“You shouldn’t eavesdrop.”

“What a difference a quickie makes, yeah? I’m guessing you liked it? It won you over.”

“No, it wasn’t that. It really wasn’t the sex,” she insisted when he lifted a brow. “I…I like you.”

“That’s a relief,” he replied, meaning the words more than he’d care to admit.

“I like how you make me feel,” she continued with a shrug. “I’ve felt better, less stressed, more…okay in the past few days than I’ve felt in a long time.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well,” she placed a hand on his chest and pushed gently. “I don’t think I’m one of those girls who need a guy around to be happy, I just… I like feeling like I have backup, and not just the Slayer kind. You’re strong, surprisingly dependable--.”

“Love, you’re making it out like I’ve done more than just baby-sit your sister for the afternoon.”

“You’re helpful,” she insisted. “You’ve given me relief. It’s nice to worry because I want to instead of because I have to. And I know you’ll do even more for me once we get to that damn demon bar.”

“Guess we’ve made your Watcher wait long enough. Bet he’s pacing back and forth down there, shedding tweed all over the carpet… Right,” he said, attempting to fix his hair. “Let’s get on with it then.”

“Yeah, about that.” She stopped him before he could reach the bedroom door. “Maybe you should get a head start.”

“What are you saying?”

“A few things, like, go down through the window please. Go home, get changed. You need a clean unripped shirt and a different pair of pants. I kinda messed those ones up.”

“Afraid of what your Watcher will say if he sees me as-is?”

“We’ve left him for a very long time after dropping a huge ‘Glory is a God’ bomb on his head. I don’t think your appearance will be his number one priority, but I doubt it will help. Let me test the water, before I throw you in headfirst.”

“Look at you, protecting yours truly already. You’re sure you want to take the walk of shame on your own?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll be fine.” She helped him into his duster and quickly buttoned the buttons. She tried to tame his unruly hair one more time. “Just head toward the bar, I’ll meet you somewhere along way. Should I have Giles look up Doc in his books? Do you know how to kill him?”

“When in doubt, cut off the head, that’s what I always say.”

“I’ll bring the weapons.”

“Sounds like a plan. Okay then.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead. He looked over his shoulder, taking one last glance at her bed and its untidy state. Pillows and stuffed animals were everywhere. The bedclothes were more than just a little wrinkled. “Buffy, tonight’s been… Pet, I can’t even put into words--.”

“I know, and the night’s just beginning.”

“Right.” He climbed through the windowsill. He situated his boots into the crevices of the trellis then Buffy said his name. Looking up, he saw her lean through the window before he was caught up in a passionate kiss.

“You just had to wait until I was dangling out here to do that? You trying to do me in, woman?”

“Probably,” she admitted, kissing him again. “If I don’t do myself in first.”

“Pet, don’t make me come back in there. I won’t leave.”

She pulled away licking her lips. She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later. In fact, if you don’t see me in an hour, come looking for me.”

“You think it’ll be so bad? What can that old goat dish out besides another lecture?”

“Have you been lectured by Giles lately? And to get lectured when your head’s beyond fuzzy and when your conscience isn’t as guilty as it should be… One hour, Spike.”

“Maybe I should stay, if he’s destined to act like a prat about it--.”

“No, thanks, but no.”

He let out a snicker as her hands found their way back into his hair. “God, Slayer, do I look that bad?”

“Honestly? You look…well, you look like someone who’s been thoroughly laid.”

“And I’m guessing you bypassed the mirror in your mad dash to get dressed.”

“What? I thought I looked—do you think he’ll know what we’ve been doing? Just by looking at me?”

“Of course not.” Chuckling, he kissed her again. “One hour, baby, smooth things over with the Watcher. Then, if I need to, I’ll come to your rescue.”

Buffy nodded. She stood by the window and watched him leave.
***

Chapter 17



“Knowing that Glory is a god is a good thing, right?” As Buffy spoke, she paced up and down the length of the room. “And the lizard thing, that’s something too. First, there was that giant snake, now a lizard-man is trying to con Spike into giving him the Key? That’s more than a coincidence, that’s major information. Can’t we just cross-reference ‘Glory’ with ‘God’ and ‘is loved by reptiles,’ and let the dots connect themselves?”



“If it were only that easy…” Giles trailed off and sighed deeply. It made Buffy pause. A sigh from her Watcher was never encouraging, especially when he looked so tired and frustrated. He was sitting at her dining room table, surrounded by haphazardly stacked books and weapons.



“Here’s your tea,” Dawn said, coming from the kitchen with Giles’ ‘Kiss the Librarian’ mug in her hands. “Oh, and look who finally decided to join us? Giles, have you told her about the Watcher diaries yet? And about what they didn’t say? Did you ask her about Spike?”



“What about Sp—Watcher diaries? What Watcher diaries?”



“Apparently Watchers have kept diaries for centuries, Buffy. They wrote about training techniques and the different demons they encountered. Some of the guys even sketched the demons. Most Watchers aren’t what I’d consider arty, but the pictures are a hoot to look at.”



“Willow?” Buffy remarked, surprised to see her friend walk into the room mid-explanation. She held an aged book under Buffy’s nose, but Buffy just blinked at her.



“Giles even admitted that he has one all about you, but he won’t show it to us. Me thinks he has it hidden somewhere.”



“Will…when did you even get here?”



“Somewhere between the first and second wave of the ‘Glory is a god and Buffy’s holed up in her room’ hysteria. How did the interrogation go? Did you stick it to him and make Spike sing?”



“Um, uh huh,” Buffy answered, tight lipped.



“You just missed Tara. She had to cram for a test. I called Xander, and at first Anya said he couldn’t be disturbed.” Willow finished the last sentence with an annoyed head bob that made her short red hair float around her head. “We had important—no, significant stuff going down, and Anya only thought about herself? Wow. Color me not-so-shocked. Xander did manage to sneak away though. He was here for a little while, but he left too. I’m the last one standing, well, other than Giles and Dawnie of course.”



“We’ve been having a slumber-slash-research party,” Dawn explained. “I’ve been in charge of drinks, and Willow has had much coffee.”



“I can see that,” Buffy mumbled.



“Do you want something? Coffee, tea, hot chocolate?”



“No, I’ll be leaving soon,” she answered, her mind elsewhere.



They were all down here while Spike and I were…up there. They were researching, talking, drinking coffee, having a Scooby meeting while we were…



She hadn’t felt guilty about being with Spike, but the shame was starting to seep in. Apparently Anya isn’t the only selfish one, she thought.



“Dawn, shouldn’t you be in bed? You have school tomorrow.”



“Giles needs to rest too, but he won’t listen to me,” Willow added. “Tomorrow will be a big day with the Council in town and all. I’ve been trying to get him to at least take a nap in the guestroom, but Dawn said--.”



“Council?” The word came out almost as a squeak. And the selfish Buffy-train just keeps chugging along, she thought, suddenly remembering that Giles’ ex-boss, Quentin Travers, was scheduled to grace them with his presence. He supposedly had information about Glory he wanted to disclose, but he’d only do so in person. Between taking her mom to her doctor’s appointment and everything Spike-related that she’d been dealing with, Buffy had completely forgotten that she had to meet the Council at the Magic Box in the morning. “Well, at least we won’t be entirely at their mercy now. We know she’s a god. We know--.”



“We continue to know hardly anything,” Giles interrupted. He took off his glasses and placed them on the table before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve never heard of a Slayer taking on a god. I don’t know if she’s ever cared to before now. I have no records—no-no documentation of anyone battling such a creature, let alone killing one.”



“What does she really want?” Dawn asked. “Just a dumb Key? What’s so great about it?”



“I’ve been wondering that myself,” Willow chimed in. “You’ve been vague-ing up the details about this Key and I don’t know if that’s such a great idea. Glory’s already been to the Magic Box, you guys. We sold her the supplies she needed to sic that cobra on Sunnydale. We need to know more info so something like that won’t happen again.”



“The more you don’t know, the better.”



“But, Buffy--.”



“No, Willow. Glory nearly killed me without tensing a muscle last week. Spike said she’d come here—to this house—looking for the Key if Doc doesn’t bring it to her. If that happens--.”



“So the Key’s bad news, even I’ve gathered that much.” Dawn crossed her arms over her chest as she did every time she didn’t get her way. “It just really sucks to think that we’re putting our lives on the line for something we know nothing about. And speaking of that, Buffy, does Spike know about the precious Key? They think he does,” Dawn said, gesturing at both Giles and Willow. “They think he’s in cahoots with Doc and Glory.”



“What?” Buffy looked from Willow to Giles. “Spike told me about Glory. He volunteered the information about her. He isn’t cahooting with anyone.”



“Why would this Doc fellow ask Spike to get the Key for him then?” Giles replaced his glasses after rubbing them down with a handkerchief. “How much were you able to, uh, squeeze out of our friend Spike? According to your sister, you were with him for quite a long time this evening. Can you clear his name?”



“Yes, I can. I absolutely can, because I found out a whole lot.”



It wasn’t a complete lie; she had learned a lot that evening. Too bad it mostly boiled down to, “Spike pretty. Buffy likes Spike. Spike makes Buffy feel good.”



“I found out that Glory’s a god, and that Spike is not, under any circumstances, working with her. I also know that--.”



“The Slayer found out I didn’t know a bloody thing and that I continue to know absolutely nothing.”



Spike? Spike’s here?



At the sound of his voice, relief washed through Buffy’s body.



“God, does everyone just walk in and out of my mother’s house now?” she asked, although she had to bite back a smile. She didn’t know if an hour had passed, but he looked exactly like a white knight to her. In fact, he just looked good period. He’d changed his outfit. His hair was slicked back by more hair gel. And he smelled good. Buffy found herself inhaling his scent from across the room. Cigarettes, more cologne and leather from that jacket he seemed to love so much…



“Doc wanted me to get the Key ‘cause I owe him, alright? And before you ask, no, the sodding Key wasn’t discussed beforehand. He did a so-called favor for me without any mention of Glory. He called me tonight, wanting what he thought was due, and went utterly bonkers. Demanding this, demanding that, all for his fucking Glorificus.”



“Glorificus? Is someone writing that down?” Finding it even harder not to grin, feeling almost giddy, Buffy joined Spike in the entryway. “Spike, what’s your relationship to Doc? Certain people think you’re working with Glory.”



“Well, certain people are wrong. Aren’t they, Slayer?” He caught her eye and flicked his tongue in a way that made Buffy feel warm all over. “I met him at the bar,” he continued, turning to address the room with his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. “I do that from time to time. When I’m short of cash, I make arrangements with other demons. Deals. Your everyday exchange of odd jobs for payment.”



“And you wonder why we thought he might be working with Glory,” Giles mumbled under his breath. “So retrieving the Key was just another odd job?”



“More or less, but it was one job I wasn’t about to do. Ask Buffy, I came straight here and told her what was what.”



“It’s true,” Dawn added brightly, always eager act as Spike’s cheerleader. “He’s telling the truth. Mom was here too. She can totally back him.”



“Does this mean court has settled? Have I proven myself innocent? The Slayer and I got somewhere else to be.” Stepping forward, he picked up a sword from the table. “Are these the toys we’re bringing along with us, love? We’d better take off. The sun’ll be up in a few.”



“He’s right,” Buffy said simply, choosing her own weapon.



“But what did Doc do for you, Spike? What was the favor that put you in his debt?”



At Giles’ question, Spike glanced at Buffy. “If you must know, he helped me get rid of an ex.”



“You mean Harmony, right?” Willow asked.



“Yeah. Couldn’t get rid of that blonde bit of fluff. I’d toss her away and she’d come back like a bad penny.”



“Until Doc helped you? That’s interesting. What did this demon do that you were unable to accomplish on your own?”



“Watcher, why the hell do you care? Why don’t you just come out and say that you don’t believe a word that I’m saying and be done with it? These questions are taking up time we don’t have. Right, Slayer?”



“He is right,” Buffy admitted again. “Come on, cut him a break. Spike’s here to help.”



“How can you be so sure?” Giles asked. “He’s more likely to lead you into a trap. Buffy, with Council members here, you need to think more carefully about the decisions you make--.”



“Why? I don’t work for them anymore.”



“Yes, that’s true, but that won’t stop them from judging you.”



“And what will stop you from judging him?”



“I’ll remind you, Spike has betrayed you before--.”



“Yeah, and I’ll remind you, you holier-than-thou wanker, that I—you know what? Rupert, I don’t give a flying fig what you think. If the Slayer trusts me, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”



Suddenly all eyes were on her, including Spike’s. She was feeling hot again, but for a different reason.



“Now, Buffy--.”



“God, will you stop? That’s enough,” Buffy said, cutting Giles off with a noticeable bite to her voice. “I’m sorry, but you can be suspicious of him all you want after we leave. Besides—seriously, don’t worry about him. I will handle Spike. I’ll take care of Spike. And that’s period and no matter what happens. Now, is there anything else you’re dying to know before we can get out of here?”



“I didn’t think so,” she answered after a beat. “Be safe. We’ll be back soon.”



She left the house with Spike following at her heels.

***



“Now that, what you said back there, that was amazing. Did you see their faces? Baby, you were brilliant.”



“I don’t feel brilliant,” Buffy mumbled as she stomped down the sidewalk. “I don’t like speaking to Giles that way, but he was getting on my nerves. He isn’t usually like that. Spike, do you think he knew we slept together?”



“First off, we’re sleeping together.”



“Spike.” Speaking softly, she rolled her eyes.



“Sleeping. It suggests—no, it promises that there’s more to come.”



“Fine. Do you think he knew we’re sleeping together?”



“No,” he replied with a snicker. “He’s just hostile towards me. He wouldn’t lay off. He was pushing my buttons. I’m glad you took a crack at him when you did, pet, because I was about to--.”



“What? What would you have done?” She looked at him, her brow raised with more interest than alarm. “Spike, from now on you need to be on your best behavior. You can still be the Big Bad, but you can’t be their enemy.”



“I know that,” he shrugged. He looked almost boyish. “I would’ve just chewed him out, that’s all. You know, with words. Not like I could bite that git even if I wanted to.”



But you bit me, Buffy countered silently. She glanced down the neckline of her top and saw his fang marks nestled in her cleavage, not quite covered by her bra. “But if you could…?”



“I wouldn’t,” he answered. “You got that?”



“Loud and clear.”



“Bet he’d be too tough anyway,” he continued quietly, looking straight ahead again. “Wouldn’t want bits o’ Watcher stuck in my teeth.”



“Yeah, that would be gross.” She made a face, but slipped her free hand into his as they walked side-by-side, bearing their matching weapons.



“So,” she smiled, trying to downplay her reaction to his sudden ‘Buffy’s holding my hand’ googly eyes. “Doc helped you with your girl problems?”



“He did. That slimy bastard even solved them. He got Harm out of my hair and, in a roundabout way, he got me you.”



“Huh?” Buffy froze as Spike lifted their joined hands and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “Explain. Explain now, please.”



“I was annoyed by Harm, heartsick over you, and drunk off my ass. I was at the bar, rambling my fool head off when Doc overheard me.”



“You were talking about me? In a demon bar?”



“He gathered that you only pay attention to me when I’m—,” he paused to sneer and run his tongue over his teeth, “—weak and pathetic were his exact words. When he said he could do something, I thought it’d be a love spell.”



“A spell? Spike--.”



“You are not under a spell.” He said the words firmly and clearly. “We’re together because we want to be together.” He pulled her close, pushing his body into hers, making her painfully aware of his pending erection. “You want me. I want you. You like me, and I love you. There is no fucking spell this time.”



“Okay,” she swallowed. “That’s…good. So, uh, what did he do?”



“He set up Tuesday night’s festivities with Harmony,” he sighed. “The humans, the gossip that brought you to my cemetery—he did all the heavy-lifting—.”



“And the heavy-thinking too, I bet. Harmony probably just stood there and took the credit.”



“Yes, yes, that’s right.” He released a deep breath and brushed her lips with kisses. “That’s exactly it. You’re getting it, love. Harm was just a pawn. It was all about you, but I didn’t want your Watcher to know that. I didn’t want you to know either ‘cause I didn’t want you to think you were set up. He put us on the right path—it’s ridiculous, I know that, but it’s true. He put everything in motion, but it was your choice to bring me home. It was your choice to be kind and caring to a bad rude man like me.”



“So, Doc’s either really really smart or he got very lucky.”



“Slayer, sod that. We’re the lucky ones.”



“Okay,” Buffy laughed as his kisses trailed into the curve of her neck. “Spike, honey, if anyone got set up, I think it was you. You got the snot beaten out of you--.”



“He didn’t tell me. I had no clue it was coming. That fucking bastard.”



“And he didn’t mention the Key before tonight?”



“No. He said he had planned on practically feeding me to a bloody Gora. That’s how he wanted me to pay my debt before he knew about you and the Key.”



“What’s a Gora?”



“A nasty demon that lays the eggs he needs for his spells. Doc’s into dark magic. He conjures up the dead. He harvests zombies.”



“Oh…goody.”



“I know a guy, who knows a guy, who’s done business with Doc. He accepts house calls. Fuck, Buffy, I’ve even got his address in my jeans. It’s a block from the bar. I was gonna tell your Watcher, but he very-well pissed me off. I could give him Glory’s head on a platter and he’d still be a knob.”



“Spike…” She closed her eyes and hugged him as tightly as she could with a sword still in one of her hands. “God, you’re amazing.”



He pulled back slowly from where he’d been adorning her skin with little licks and kisses. He looked at her skeptically, but with dark lust-filled eyes and said, “You think I’m amazing? Why’s that?”



“Um.” She dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “Maybe I should tell you later?”



“Why?”



“Because…it’d give you something to look forward to?”



“Because you’re afraid I’ll jump you right here. I’ll become crazed and have you on this very sidewalk, in the middle of the suburbs for all to see.”



Buffy nodded, her cheeks flushed. He laughed and kissed her tenderly. Her heart started to pound.



“My girl…my Buffy, she’s a smart one.”



“You wig out if I smile at you, or if I touch you; if I gave you an actual compliment…”



“You’d have a mess on your hands. Or rather in your hands if I truly got my way about it. Your hot, sweet mouth would be even better, but I know I’ll have to wait for that and it’ll be worth it.”



Gasping, she gave him a shove. When he laughed at her, she glared at him.



“Now now, pet.”



“Just shut up.” She found his hand again, entwined their fingers, and with one tug, they were walking again. “You’re vulgar. You’re a pig.”



“You love it.”



“I don’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend talk openly about sex stuff. So far I’m finding it grating.”



“Never? Has anyone talked dirty to you?”



“No, and I don’t think I’m missing out on much.”



“Slayer--.”



“And don’t you even think about showing me what I’ve been missing! Not now, mister. We’re on a mission here.”



“Later, then?”



“Maybe,” she huffed, eyes downcast. She waited for him to poke fun at her, but it never happened. He just lazily stroked his thumb against the palm of her hand. “There are a lot of things I haven’t really…been exposed to. I mean, just think about my exes. Angel was quietly loving, but hands off. And I stress the quiet and that’s completely hands off. Riley was…um…”



“Buffy, you don’t have to--.”



“Why not? I want to. Why should you be disappointed?”



“Disappointed? Now hang on--.”



“I had to hold back with Riley,” she confessed in a rush. “Most of the time I wouldn’t come—I just couldn’t. I was too worried that I’d hurt him. I knocked the wind out of him once and he looked so crushed, and not just literally. It was the beginning of the end for us.”



“Oh, pet.”



“Don’t laugh,” she demanded, hearing his soft chuckle. “And Parker--.”



“Don’t talk about him. Don’t waste one breath on him.”



“Okay,” she said quietly. “You know what happened anyway.”



“I hate him.”



“Me too.”



“Baby?”



“What?”



They stopped again in the parking lot outside of Doc’s apartment complex.



“What brought that on? You wouldn’t talk about Riley before, and now you’re disclosing it all? And if you say one more word about you disappointing me, I’ll have half a mind to turn you over my knee.”



“There’s been talk of later. The anticipation is…building. You’re eager. You’re already…ready.”



“And you’re not?”



“When later comes,” she continued, ignoring his interruption. “I just don’t want you to expect Buffy-the-Sex-Goddess. I know you think that I’m, um, really great. And you’ve definitely got me perched up super high on a pedestal. What we did earlier, the-the quickie? That was… Okay, I don’t want to talk anymore.”



“Slayer--.”



“She doesn’t exist, okay? Buffy-the-Sex-Goddess—there is no such thing!”



He opened his mouth then closed it. He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. Then he just looked deeply annoyed. “Then how you explain earlier?” he demanded.



“What do you mean?”



“Earlier. From the time I stepped onto your front porch to the time I climbed out of your bloody window.”



“Well, that was just—.”



“Let’s go back to the night at the mall. You’ve been practically oozing sex appeal since then. And before that? Slayer, I’ve had wet dreams about you since the first time I saw you at the Bronze. You were dancing in that barely-there tank top. My girl has always fancied leaving her bra at home, hasn’t she?”



Buffy’s eyes grew wide. She swallowed as her cheeks burned. “Spike… I think you’re a crazy person.”



“I’m crazy about you. I’ve wanted you, and have thought about you nearly every day for years. You say you aren’t a sex goddess? I’ve been around for a long time, Buffy, and only you affect me this way.”



“Spike, that wasn’t…” She struggled to breathe and was afraid he might make her cry again. He overwhelmed her, embarrassed her and flattered her at the exact same time. “I wasn’t talking about sex appeal.”



“Right. Of course.” Acting quickly, he had her body flush against his before he could finish rolling his eyes heavenward. “Now I’ve got it. You’re feeling insecure. Inexperienced. The sods you’ve dated make you think you’re not good enough. You actually think you won’t please me between the sheets. The quckie was one thing, but now you’re concerned about what’ll happen once we can take our time.”



She wanted to push him away, his frankness was making her sick to her stomach, but she couldn’t. Although his words seemed crass, his eyes were incredibly soft. He was speaking in a low, tender voice as he just held the side of her face.



And everything he was saying was true.



“I...” She looked down as tears welled up in her eyes. For once in her complicated love life she felt completely understood. By Spike. By her enemy-turned-lover-just-a few-short-hours-ago. It baffled her. It made her heart ache. “I know it’s stupid.”



“I don’t want you thinking like that any longer, got it? You will please me. And I’m telling you—no, I’m warning you right now, Slayer, if you ever hold back with me, not only will I know about it, I will make you pay.”



“I’d like to see you try.”



“Don’t push me.”



“Don’t push me either.”



“Buffy.”



“Fine,” she mumbled feeling sheepish. “I’ll stop freaking out. I’ll start thinking myself as Buffy-the-Sex-Goddess from now on even if you have to teach me everything I don’t know, which is just about everything by the way. I won’t hold back. I wasn’t planning on it. Crap, Spike, I don’t think I can. It definitely wasn’t an option before.”



“Good.”



“I guess,” she shrugged. Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek. “Where’s Doc? I really need to kill that guy and quickly because I’ve got to find a rock and hide under it asap.”



“Behind you. First door on your right.” He followed a few steps behind her and continued to stand back as Buffy kicked down the door to Doc’s small apartment. “You should forego hiding and just come home with me, baby.”



“Your place is still wrecked. Is this him?”



“Let’s see, little old man, bald, beady-eyed—Buffy, duck!”



Before she could register his warning, Buffy found herself shoved away. She fell on a cheap wooden coffee table and it crumbled underneath her.



“So sorry, pet, but you’ve got to watch out for the tongue. It almost sliced off your arm.”



Instead of jumping back to her feet, she took Spike’s offered hand and let him pull her up.



“Oh, I see you managed to get the girl. Frankly, I thought the Slayer would have higher standards. Did you bring her here because she has Her Key?” Doc remained seated on the couch, his hands folded calmly together.



“What makes you think I have it?” Buffy asked, tightening the grip on her sword. “You hear it from someone or is it just another guess?”



Doc blinked his reptilian sideways blink and just grinned.



“Spike.”



“On it.”



He charged forward first, giving Doc a target to propel his tongue that. He dodged it with ease, rolling on floor and diving out of the way.



“I thought you smelled differently, vampire. You drank from her. I thought that wasn’t possible.”



“Neither did I,” Spike responded just before receiving a deep cut through his jeans. Yelling a line of curses, he crashed to the floor.



“You won’t win, you know.” Doc turned abruptly to face Buffy as she tried to sneak up behind the couch he was sitting on. He continued to grin, even as she pressed a sword to his neck. “When it comes to Hell gods, you’re up against the best. She can’t be stopped. Glorificus will go home. You won’t stop the ritual.”



“Can it be stopped? Can she be stopped?”



“What makes you think I’d answer questions like that?”



“It never hurts to try, right?”



His tongue shot forward and Buffy pulled her sword away from his neck. Holding it horizontally with two hands, she brought it up, swiftly cutting Doc’s tongue as it made contact with her cheek. Without thinking, she grabbed the remaining bloody appendage and yanked. It slashed into her hand, but she didn’t care.



“Spike, be ready!” she yelled, keeping her eyes on Doc. “Tell me—.”



A head butt sent her flying back with a grunt. She scrambled for her weapon, but Doc already had it against her heart.



“I still can’t get over a Slayer sleeping with a bottom feeder like Spike. He doesn’t have a soul. I can’t smell one on him. Can you really not do any better? He truly is an idiot, you know. I’ve never had someone beg to be pummeled just because the object of his affection likes her men cute and—what was it—kittenish? Does that sound right?”



“Well, he is cute, but I don’t know, does my boyfriend seem kittenish to you?” Buffy asked as Spike’s sword plunged into Doc’s stomach.



“You alright? You want to try to question him some more, love?”



“Where’s the Key?” Grimacing, she stayed on the floor as she opened and closed her bloody hand. She also pulled at her shirt, keeping it away from the cut made from the tip of Doc’s sword.



“You have it.”



“No, I don’t. Why would I?”



“Why wouldn’t you?” Doc’s body twitched in Spike’s hold. “You’re the Slayer, aren’t you?”



“What does it look like?”



Doc coughed and more blood seeped from his mouth. “She knows.”



“What does she know?” Buffy demanded, getting to her feet.



“Monks made it into a person. She knows. I told Her. Before.”



“You’re lying.”



“Guess you won’t find out.”



“Guess not,” Buffy said, picking up her sword. In one graceful motion, she sliced off Doc’s head.



“Buffy, was it just me or did I hear him say the words ‘Hell god’?”



“It wasn’t just you.”



“She wants to use the Key to go home, there’s gonna be a ritual, and the Key’s a--.”



“Is that offer still open? Can I go home with you? My place is crowded.”



“Of course.” He shoved Doc’s body away and hopped to her on one leg.



“You’re hurt again.”



“I’ll heal. But you, it’s my turn to doctor you up.”



With a weak smile, Buffy wrapped an arm around Spike and invited him to rest his weight against her.

***

Chapter 18

She was quiet throughout their walk to his crypt, but since his Slayer’s arm never loosened its snug grip around his waist, Spike decided not to dwell over her silence. Just from the focused look on her face, he knew she was over-thinking something. It was probably Glory or maybe even their heart-to-heart prior to Doc’s demise, but he wasn’t entirely sure. He’d give her the ten minutes it took to reach his cemetery, and then he’d take her mind off those things. She told him before he gave her relief and he was determined to do so again. He’d get her cleaned up and then he’d make her relax. That’s what boyfriend-types were good for in his opinion, taking care of their damsels, whether they were in actual distress or otherwise. And after decades of looking after Drusilla, he had no doubts he could tend to Buffy…if she’d let him.

“Pet, let me get the doors--.”

“No, I’ll do it. You stay.” Cradling her bloody hand to her stomach, she opened the heavy doors to his crypt one at a time. “God, it’s pitch dark in here.”

“Harm broke the lights. I’ve got nothing but candles.”

“Can I borrow your lighter?” Before he could respond, her fingers were deep in the pockets of his duster. “Do you have somewhere to sit in there? I want you off your leg.”

“It’s practically healed--.”

“Practically is not completely. You will sit,” she insisted, hooking her arm around his. “Your recliner wasn’t torched. You will sit in it or I will throw you in it. How are we going to do this, Spike?”

“You always this feisty after a kill?”

A smirk pulled at her lips, but she said nothing as she led him to the recliner.

So much for me taking care of her, Spike thought, sinking against the cushions as he watched her flit around his living space as if she belonged there.

“Spike, where do you keep First-Aid-type stuff?”

“It depends on what you need. Bandages and gauze are in kitchen area up here. Grab a bottle of whatever’s in the fridge while you’re there. The whiskey or brandy will do, unless you have a preference for something else. I’ve also got a sewing kit in the junk drawer downstairs in the makeshift bathroom. Wash out that hand and I’ll sew it up for you.”

“You can do that?”

“Yes.”

“You sew?”

“When I need to. When you’ve been a life-long mischief-maker like yours truly, you learn how to use a needle and thread out of necessity. Vamp healing will only get you so far. If a limb’s hanging on by a thread, it doesn’t hurt to help it along with a few more.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll look at your leg and if I need to, I’ll sew you up too.”

“Now, pet,” he began with a laugh, but it was no use finishing his sentence. She had already taken off into the lower chamber of the crypt. “Right. I’ll just wait for you to come back then.”

“You’d better. If I see you trying to hobble down these stairs, I’ll kick your ass.”

Grinning to himself, he shrugged out of his jacket. He tossed it aside while mumbling, “Protective little chit. Forcefully protective, she is. A man could get used to this kinda treatment.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah right. You look like, what’s the expression? The cat that ate the canary?”

He opened his mouth, a quip of a sexual nature on his tongue, but decided against it as Buffy knelt before him. She took off his shoes, hugged his leg to her chest and rolled up his jeans, and she did it all skillfully with one hand. “How’s it look? Will I make it, Nurse Buffy?”

“Do you think I’m giving you the choice not to?” Their eyes met as she patted down a fresh bandage against his skin. It was just as gratuitous as the others she had applied earlier that evening. “Spike, stop looking at me like that,” she sang, narrowing her eyes before leaning forward to kiss the band-aid.

“Buffy, come here.” The tone of his voice dropped on its own accord. “I need you closer.”

She shuffled to him, resting her hurt hand face-up on his thigh and sighing prettily into his mouth as he kissed her. “I need you in my lap,” he declared roughly, forcing himself to break away from her soft lips. “Bring the stuff, including the booze.”

“Why?” He thought he’d have to make a case to get her on top of him, but he was pleasantly mistaken. “You aren’t going to pour that stuff over my hand like they do in Western movies, are you?” She asked the question as she joined him in the recliner without hesitation. She settled in his lap comfortably and dangled her legs over the chair arm.

“Alcohol can be used as a disinfectant, pet, and I know how you love your disinfectants.”

“You can’t—Spike, you can’t be serious. It’ll sting, and my hand already hurts. I won’t let you do that to me.”

“You won’t?”

“No, and I mean it.”

“If I recall, you had no problem practically bathing me in rubbing alcohol earlier--.”

“That…that was different, and—Spike.” Her eyes grew to the size of saucers and her lip jutted out just slightly. Her good hand made its way to the back of his neck and she treated him to maddening feather-light strokes from her fingers. “Please, honey?”

“Oh, now you’re just playing dirty.”

“Who, me?”

“Yes. You,” he said simply. He echoed the position of her hand, digging his fingers into the hair on the back of her head as he kissed her thoroughly. She gasped, and it was followed by the same pretty sigh that drove him crazy.

“Spike, Spike,” she panted. She squirmed against him, rubbing her body desperately against his. She reached for him and let out a pained hiss. “Spike, my hand really hurts.”

“Hush. I’ll take care of you. The whiskey, it’s for you to drink, Buffy. It’ll make you feel warm and a little numb. It’ll calm your nerves while I fix your hand. Slayer, I wouldn’t dream of washing your hand in it. Just because it works for John Wayne and fucking Buffalo Bob that doesn’t mean it’ll work for us in real life.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say so in the beginning?”

“You were playing dirty. I liked it.”

“Creep.”

“Yeah, you might as well get used to that, honey.” Snickering, he ran his thumb under the cut Doc had left across her cheek. “That still hurt, kitten? How about the matching one on your chest?”

Moving quickly, assuming she’d start batting at him any minute, he opened the neck of her sweater and peeked inside. “I want your jacket off and this top should go along with it. And I want you drinking--.”

“But I don’t drink.”

“You will drink or I’ll pour it down your throat.”

“Now who’s Mr. Feisty?” She gave him a mock-pout as she shed her clothes. “I’d better not get too cold,” she mumbled, scooting even closer to Spike’s body. “And no matter what you say, I’m keeping my bra on.”

“Drink, Buffy.” Taking the whiskey from where she had it nestled in her lap, he twisted it open and held it under her nose. “Do it for me.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just go to the hospital? Hey, maybe Ben can help--.”

“Over my twice dead body. You’re my girl. I’m gonna to stitch you up. Bloody Ben can sod off.”

“Gosh, jealous much?” With a twinkle in her eyes, she took a long drink from the bottle, and an instant later, it was replaced by a wrinkled nose and look of utter disgust. “Spike, you drink this crap?”

“Yes. Keep drinking. Sip it.”

“But it’s gross,” she whined, resting her head on his shoulder. She took another drink and whimpered into his ear, “I don’t like it. But. Okay. I do kinda like that.” Her voice lowered just above a whisper. “I mean, it’s gross too, but…not so bad.”

Chuckling, Spike continued to kiss and lick the cut over her heart as she serenaded him with a collection of moans and the occasional alcohol-induced gag.

“Spike, what about the other one?” He thought she meant the scrape on her cheek, but he found his head pushed deeper into her cleavage.

“You want these to feel better too, my love?” His fingers twitched a little as he caressed the marks left by his fangs. “Sweetheart, when I bit you, did it hurt?”

“No.”

“Not even a pinch?”

“Not really.”

“That’s interesting.”

“I think your chip has a glitch.”

“And I think it isn’t a glitch at all. It didn’t go off because I didn’t hurt you. Because you liked it when I bit you. You enjoyed it.” He waited for a response, but didn’t get one. He ran his tongue over the marks and she just held her breath. “Now, what I’m not sure of, is, when I stick a needle into your palm--.”

“You shouldn’t do it. If it’ll make your head go kablooey, don’t do it. It isn’t worth it. I don’t even need stitches anymore. I mean, pfft, it doesn’t even hurt so bad anymore.”

“Slayer, do you have a problem with needles?”

“I have a problem with them poking my hand. I also have a problem with them pulling strings through my skin. Strings are for buttons, and not for Buffys.”

“That’s a fair argument,” he smiled. “But what if I could make you better without a nasty needle?”

A moment of silence passed between them. He studied her expression carefully while she stared down at her hand.

“Buffy?”

“You want me to drink your blood.”

“I want to help you.”

“Isn’t it a myth? Giles told me--.” She cut herself off. She stuck out her lower lip and asked, “Can vampire blood really heal people? Really, Spike?” Before letting him answer, she rested her head on his shoulder again. “I don’t know about this.”

“You know, there’s a myth about Slayer’s blood. Some say it’s an aphrodisiac.”

“And what’s the status of that myth?”

“Proven and completely true, but we’ll keep that secret between us.”

“Have you had a Slayer’s blood before?”

“No. It was…mind-blowing.”

“Not just because of what we were doing…at the time?”

“No,” he replied. He could feel her face radiating into his neck. “Your blood’s remarkable. It’s just as powerful as the rest of you. It healed me up, Buffy. Before we got to Doc’s, I was good as new. Because of you. Didn’t you notice? Shouldn’t I be able to do the same for the woman I love?”

“Gee, Spike, when you put in that way.” She surprised him by letting out a quiet giggle. She started to stroke the back of his neck again as she dotted his face with kisses. “Your lovey dovey talk really kills me, you know that? It makes me feel sooo…incredibly…melty. Just like a-a crayon left out in the sun for too long. Once it melts, it hardens that way, all gloopy, then it’s impossible to get out of the carpet…or out of the cup holder in your mom’s car.”

“Babe, you drunk now?”

“I’d say so. No, I say I’ve been so. I think. But your bottle isn’t quite empty. I should finish it.” She drained the bottle and let it crash to the cement floor. “I should clean that up--.”

“Don’t move,” he said, hugging his arms around her waist.

“Okay. Didn’t want to anyway. I like it when you hold me.” Her body sagged against him and she sighed blissfully. “I like you so much, it scares me, Spike. I’m gonna drink your blood like a vampire, but I don’t wanna be a vampire. It’s just…my hand hurts, and I want to make you happy. You make me happy with the things you say, but I can’t do that. I’m not poetic or wordy. So, if I can’t say pretty things to you, I’ll, um, do pretty things for you. I don’t know if the blood stuff is pretty, but you seem to like that stuff. It’s weird, you’re the most human vampire I know, but you’re the most vampy vampire-boyfriend I’ve had. Isn’t that funny?”

“Hilarious,” he croaked, kissing the top of her head. He couldn’t say more if he wanted to. His throat was closing up on him.

“I don’t want to bite you though. My teeth aren’t very fangy. It’d be like using a butter knife on something, well, that you wouldn’t want to use a butter knife on.”

As she continued to babble, Spike shifted long enough to scrape a sharp fang across his wrist. He kept the incision small, the perfect size to fit Buffy’s dainty mouth.

“Riley let those vampire skanks chew on him, but what we did—what I let you do in my room, that was different. It was intimate. It was special. We shared something. Don’t you think so?”

“I think you’d better stop talking. Keep it up, I might burst.”

“You mean…” With the back of her hurt hand, she stroked the bulge pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

“No, I didn’t mean that. Though I’d stay away from there if you know what’s good for you. I meant my heart, Buffy.”

“Spike.”

She cooed his name so warmly he closed his eyes briefly as they rolled back into his head. She stroked him again and he clenched his teeth together.

“Buffy, please shut up, and keep your hands to yourself.”

“But I thought--.”

“Don’t you dare pout either, just—you see my wrist, baby? Do exactly like I did. Just give it a kiss. Lick it up a bit.”

“And a kiss will make it better?” There was a hint of fear in her voice, but she looked at him with trust brimming in her eyes. “Okay, but if it’s as gross as that whiskey, I won’t like it. And if it’s super gross, and if I still need stitches afterwards, I’ll totally kick your ass.”

“Buffy… Fuck, I love you so much, Buffy. If this doesn’t work, and you still need stitches, I’ll kick my own ass.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that.” She flashed him a gorgeous smile before licking her lips and pressing her mouth to his wrist.
***

As Buffy came to, after what felt like a long restful sleep, she stretched out her legs. She pushed them out as she lay flat on her stomach and tried to hook her toes over the edge of the mattress, but the edge of her mattress wasn’t there. The bed she was sleeping in was much bigger than her kid-friendly twin.

Then she noticed the chill in the air. She realized that she was only wearing her underwear, and that the sheets surrounding her body had a silky feel to them. And they smelled good, just like Spike.

“Mmmm, Spike.” She reached for him, but he wasn’t there. She was in the bed alone.

Rolling onto her back, she ran her fingers through her hair and froze. She felt no pain. She wiggled the fingers on both hands and made a few tight fists, just to make sure, and there was still no pain.

It worked, she thought, finally opening her eyes with a smile on her face. Sitting up, she scanned the room and saw the back of Spike’s head flicker in the candlelight. He was still in the recliner.

Stupid vampire, she thought. I’m in his bed and he’s sitting in front of his broken TV?

She hissed a quiet curse as she tiptoed across the crypt’s ice-cold floor. Before rounding the chair, she found his duster and wrapped it around her body.

“Spike, what are you doing?”

He was sleeping. He was reclining back with his feet up. His hands were resting on the chair arms. His head was drooping to one side.

Buffy thought he looked peaceful, and incredibly handsome.

And he’s my boyfriend, her brain buzzed as her heart tightened.

“B-buffy?”

“Hey, sleepyhead. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he responded. He cleared his throat and shifted in the chair with his eyes still heavy-lidded. “What time is it?”

“I have no idea.”

“Babe, what are you doing? You’re wearing my coat.”

“I’m cold,” she replied with a shrug. “And I was… Well, honestly, I was thinking about how I could gracefully get in that chair with you without waking you up or tipping the both of us out of it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She looked down and smiled. Sleepy, puppy-eyed Spike was overwhelming her. “I figured I could put my left knee between the chair arm and your knee. Like so. And with my weight propped on this side, I could hold onto you while I kinda do the splits…” She touched his shoulder for support as she parted her legs and straddled his body.

“But now, this isn’t as comfy as I thought it’d be,” she admitted. “I don’t want to stay on my knees, and as much as I’d like to wrap my legs around you, the chair would make it awkward. So…” Making a point not to look at him, she rearranged herself and ended up in his lap again. This time, she bent her legs, tucking them across his body instead of letting them hang off the chair arm as she cuddled against him.

“You okay now, baby? Comfortable?”

“I think so,” she replied although she was perfectly content once his arms fell around her. One stayed on the outside of her jacket, while the other slipped deep inside. He touched her here and there, but with no sense of urgency.

“You sure put a lot of effort into all that squirming. It’s too bad, especially since I plan on carrying you to bed in a few minutes from now.”

“Oh.” His words and their promise gave her a jolt. “You didn’t tell me of these plans.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I thought you were going to leave me in bed while you slept over here. You know, like a stupid person,” she added after a beat. “I don’t want to sleep in your bed alone. A smart guy would’ve known that.”

“I see,” he replied. His lips brushed against her temple. “You searched for me then.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it searching. You were both lost and found in a matter of seconds.”

“Did you look for me, wanting for me to hold you while you slept, or were you hoping that I’d make love to you?”

“I-I’m not going to answer that. I’m not going to… Jesus, Spike.”

“How’s your hand?” he asked, giving her another chaste kiss. This one tickled her warm forehead. “Sit up. Let me see it.”

Silently, she moved again. She sat Indian-style and rested her hands on her knees while he inspected her palms. Her heart sped up as he touched and kissed each one affectionately.

“We’ve confirmed another myth.

“And we’ve got another secret to keep too.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “We wouldn’t want your Watcher or your friends finding out about this.”

“No way. You biting me, and me drinking your blood? These things are beyond private. They can know that we’re dating, and that I’m taken, but anything else? Not only would they not understand; it’s none of their business what I do with my boyfriend.”

“And that’s that?”

“Yes, and that’s that.” She batted him away as he tried to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Our business—it’s ours, Spike.”

“Pet, are you still drunk? Because I’m thinking you’d have to be bloody smashed for you to think, even for a second, that I’d disclose one word regarding me and you to those buffoons you call friends.”

“Buffoons? They are not buffoons, and I’m not drunk,” she insisted automatically. Then she paused. “I don’t think I’m drunk. Should I still be drunk? Or should I have a hangover by now? What time is it anyway?”

“You really don’t drink often, do you, kitten?”

“I feel fine, but…should I be feeling fine? I drank a lot, especially for me. Do you think your blood can stop a hangover too? God, we could bottle that stuff and make a fortune just at UC Sunnydale alone. But that would be worlds of bad,” she added, staring ahead. “That’d put you in lots of danger. If people knew what your blood could do, you’d be hunted--.”

“Wouldn’t that change things up?” Spike snorted. “Average-Joe-types hunting vampires? I’d like to see them try. I mean, I’ve seen it and lived it numerous times before, but it never fails to amuse me.”

“But you’d be helpless unless your chip had, like, a thousand glitches, and—wait, heck no, strike that crap. I’d just have to watch over you twenty-four-seven because your chip will not be glitching with anyone else but me. That’s for sure. I’d just protect you from the Average-Joes. And that would be tha--.”

She wasn’t able to finish before she was tangled up in a deep passionate kiss. She eagerly kissed him back and broke away only when she had to breathe. “Spike, do you think I’m still drunk?” she panted, resting her forehead against his.

“I have no idea. You’re babbling, but I haven’t decided if you only do so when you’re tipsy, or if it’s something you do when you’re purposely trying to drive me mad. You’re a delight. I could listen to you prattle on all bloody day. Buffy, can I take you to bed now?”

“I think you’d better,” she said, wrapping her arms snuggly around his neck. When he inched forward, she wove her legs around his waist and rubbed against his erection. It felt amazing through her thin underwear. “I need you.”

“It’s going to be different this time. There will be no rushing. I hope you don’t have plans, ‘cause once I have you; I’m not letting you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Don’t want to. Can’t.”

Then it hit her.

Watchers. Quentin Travers. A meeting with Council.

Shit.

Then Giles’ voice filled her head: “I am deeply ashamed of you, Buffy.”

“I-I actually can’t! I can’t stay! Spike, I’ve got to go!” He tried to calm her down, but she forced her way out his embrace. She fell hard to the floor and popped up onto her feet. “I’m so sorry! I-I need to know what time it is! I’m supposed to meet with the Council this morning!”

“You can check my cell. It’s charging on the counter.”

“Your…cell?”

“I do have electricity, Slayer. I just don’t have anything for the bloody electricity to juice up. Harmony ruined all my shit, remember?”

“I remember.” Buffy’s teeth dug into her lower lip. She wanted to say more, but instead she ran across the room. She flipped over his phone. It had been lying facedown, hiding the display.

It was past noon. Well past noon.

“I’m sorry,” she said, running back to Spike so she could gather her clothes.

“I am too.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better.”

“Spike…” She frowned. Her sweater, jacket and jeans fell from her hands with a plop. Against her better judgment, she was back into his lap, kissing him as she unbuttoned his jeans. “How quick can we really do this? I need you. I don’t want to wait. I can’t. We’ve confirmed a few myths, now I wanna break a record. Okay?”

She swallowed hard as his hand slipped between her legs, pushing her wet underwear aside. He aligned his cock to her opening, and she sunk down, welcoming him inside. “Spike, Spike, we’ve got to hurry,” she moaned. “God, you feel so good.”

“Move,” he practically snarled, digging his fingers into her backside. “Bounce against me.”

“I-I…”

“Don’t be bashful. Just do what feels good. I’ll keep you moving when the time is right.” He found her mouth and kissed her. “Oh, your Watcher is really gonna hate me now.”

“Yeah, but I’ll like you so much more.”

“Is that right?” he smiled with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Prove it.”

She gyrated her hips frantically until she started to cry out. And Spike kept his promise. He took control once she collapsed against his chest, rocking her back and forth until he reached his own climax a minute later.

“This was not one of my best ideas. Now I really don’t want to leave.” With a deeper frown than before, she kissed him. She kissed him leisurely, stroking his tongue and humming into his mouth.

“I’ve got to go.” She stroked his sharp cheekbones while he stared at her. Once again he looked completely mesmerized. “I still owe you, okay?” she whispered, lifting away from him reluctantly.

Buffy dressed quickly and blew Spike a kiss before running out of the crypt.
***

Buffy started apologizing before she had the door to the Magic Box completely open. “I am so sorry. I had a long night and an even longer morning. I didn’t have a way of telling time. Then, once I realized I was running late, I had to run home ‘cause—well, I needed a shower. I needed to change and I needed to…to… Hey, where is everybody?”

“You were supposed to be here at nine. It is almost two o’clock.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry, Giles.” Buffy walked across the magic store, threw her purse on the counter next to the cash register, and stood by the empty table her Watcher was sitting at. “What happened? You aren’t researching. Didn’t he tell us anything?”

“Quentin doesn’t believe that you’re worthy of the information he has. In fact, he wants to conduct a review of your fighting and decision-making skills before he’ll consider helping us at all.”

“Just because I was late?”

“You are nearly five hours late, Buffy.”

“C-can he do that? I don’t work for the Council anymore--.”

“If you do not comply with the review, I will be deported.”

“What? Now that’s something he can’t do!”

“Yes, he can frankly.”

“Giles--.”

“They will interview your friends and family. Possibly even your professors. The physical exam will take place tomorrow at dawn. And I suggest you do everything in your power to be here on time.”

Buffy squirmed under Giles obvious look of disapproval. “I’m sorry--.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding once. “I heard you the first time.”

“Spike and I learned that Glory’s a Hell god.” She blurted out the words, hoping new information would lessen the scowl he was poorly trying to hide. “She wants to go home and she’ll use the Key somehow to make that happen in a ritual. Doc said he knew the Key was a person and that he told Glory, but I don’t know if he was telling the truth. Spike and I killed him.”

“Hell god?” Giles repeated softly.

“Yes, and that—please tell me that isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“I-I don’t know.” He walked past her to his bookcase, staring ahead as the wheels in his head started to turn. “I-I need to…research…”

“Do you need help? Giles, about last night, the Spike-thing…”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” He didn’t look up from the book he was reading. “I don’t believe Spike can be trusted.”

“I disagree.”

“And why is that, Buffy? How on Earth has he managed to win you over so completely?” He looked at her then and slammed the book in his hands shut. “All I ask is for you to be logical. This is exactly what the Council is searching for, a blatant example of your poor judgment.”

“Spike and I are together now. We’re dating.”

Giles blinked once then he took off his glasses. He pinched the top of his nose as he closed his eyes. “I suggest you keep that information to yourselves. At least until Quentin and the other Watchers are safely out of earshot.”

“Is that really all you have to say?” Right away her eyes started to sting. Giles was practically her father, she never expected him to jump for joy about her relationship with Spike, but she didn’t expect him to be so cold. “He cares about me. Giles, he-he loves me. I know it sounds crazy, but he means it. When he tells me these things, I don’t doubt him. He’s on my side. I know it.”

“Yes, but for how long? Spike is a very, uh, hyper individual. How long will it take until he grows bored--.”

“With me? You want me to predict when my boyfriend will grow tired of me? How can you—God, Giles.” Her voice cracked and the tears came. They seeped down her face in long warm channels. “I won’t let you be cruel to me or my boyfriend.”

He swallowed at her tears, but the stubborn pinch stayed at his mouth. “I fear you’re setting yourself up for humiliation. I can see he’s manipulating your emotions already. Buffy, I don’t want you to get hurt--.”

“Then why are you being this way?” Unable to look at her Watcher any longer, Buffy took a step back. She stared at her shoes for a minute until she decided she had nothing else to say. She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
***

Chapter 19

Buffy sat in a corner booth by herself. Her half-eaten sandwich was still on the plate while she listlessly swirled a cold french fry in a pile of ketchup.

“Gee, Buff, you trying to drown that thing? Why the long face?”

“I blew it.”

“So you stood up a group of stodgy old Watchers, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Plenty,” Buffy replied with a discreet sniffle. “I miss one meeting, and…well, let’s just say I’m a victim of the domino-effect.”

“Alright, just tell the Xan-man all about it. Unload. Share your tale of woe with me.”

“There isn’t much to say,” Buffy began as her friend sat across from her. Dependable, loveable Xander. He’d freak out more than anyone once he found out about her love affair with Spike. After the Initiative had implanted the chip in Spike’s head, he was forced to hide out in Xander’s basement for a few days. And, it was needless to say, their time together as constantly bickering roommates had done nothing to bring them closer. They hated each other.

“What are you doing here, Xan? Isn’t it a little late for a lunch break?”

“The construction site shut down early today. Too much wind. Since the lunch Anya packed me was a little on the wimpy side, I decided to come here for some extra eats. May I?”

“Eat away.” She pushed her plate across the table.

“And now for the woe. Lay it on me.”

“Okay,” she said, shifting anxiously in her chair. Surely she could talk to one of her oldest friends. She’d just leave out the Spike-related details. “I was a smidge late and--.”

“A smidge? Wasn’t it five hours?” Xander remarked with a snicker. “Buffy, that’s one hell of a smidge.”

“Hey, if you know the story, why should I bother with a rehash?”

“Sorry, sorry, please continue. So there was a smidge. What caused this smidge?”

“Um…Slayer duties,” she answered eventually. Her fingers drummed against the table as she searched for the perfect excuse: an excuse that wouldn’t be riddled with lies. “I was out late, killing a Glory-related bad guy. I was gathering valuable information. It wasn’t like I was goofing off. Maybe I did kinda sleep in, but, don’t I deserve some victory z’s? Since I was late, Quentin Travers now thinks I’m a major screw up. He doesn’t think I’m worthy of his Glory info. He wants to test me, Xander. And that worries me. The Council put me through that test that sucked out my powers, and it almost killed me. And then, when I was Faith, they almost killed me again. Honestly, I really can’t handle almost being killed right now.”

“’Cause Glory’s a god, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m also kinda partial to not fighting for my life every time the Council gets the urge to test me.”

“God, I hate that guy! That Quentin guy, and those nasty…Watchers! You have enough to worry about! You don’t need those guys on your case!”

“Thanks.” Buffy looked down with slight smile as Xander spoke with his mouth full and shook his fist in the air. “I’m not fond of them either. And that goes for all Watchers.”

“Giles gave you a hard time?”

“He did. Some of the things he said to me… I know I embarrassed him. I disappointed him, but…I’m just not very happy with him right now.”

“Hey, you and Giles will make up.”

“Mm,” she answered, light-lipped.

“So, uh…” Xander popped the last of the cold french fries into his mouth. “Speaking of people we’re not fond of, I hear you had a run in with Captain Peroxide yesterday.”

“Now that’s a graceful segue.” Rolling her eyes, she sunk down deeper in the booth. “Okay, who talked to you and what was said exactly?”

“Willow did the talking and she said you’re guilty of defending our favorite mass-murdering demon.”

“Ex.”

“What?”

“Spike’s an ex-mass-murdering demon.”

“So it’s true?”

“Isn’t Anya a mass-murdering demon? Oh no, I forgot. She’s a former mass-murdering demon, but no one gripes when she’s around. Isn’t she lucky.” The words fell out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying. She forced a weak laugh when Xander’s eyes grew wide. “Spike is—he’s helping me, okay? I wish everyone would just settle down when it comes to him. He’s a strong vampire. We should be grateful to have him on our side.”

“Grateful?” Xander squeaked. From his voice alone, Buffy knew he was smarting from what she’d said about his girlfriend. She’d done the unthinkable by comparing Anya to the vampire he loathed. “There is no reason to be grateful when he’s around. Ever.”

“That’s your opinion.”

“Buffy--.”

“No, I won’t do this every time I turn around. Spike’s helpful. We need help. End of story and end of discussion.”

“So you’re using him.” Inwardly Buffy flinched as a look of relief instantly softened Xander’s features. “Now I get it. You’re not really all gung ho for Spike, you’re just keeping him around for the manpower. And if he’s a casualty of war? No harm, no foul. That makes sense. Good thinking, Buffy.”

She wanted to correct him so badly. “Yeah, that’s me,” she grumbled. “A thinker of many great things.”

“I’ll have to spread the word. Willow will be relieved. For a few crazy minutes she actually thought there was something going on between you and Spike.”

“What made her think that?” Buffy asked, interrupting Xander’s laugher.

“Well, I guess Dawn made a few questionable comments--.”

“Figures,” she whispered, rolling her eyes again.

“And Will said you seemed bizarrely protective of the vampire freak last night.”

“Well,” she responded simply, making a point not to deny or confirm anything. “Xan, I think I’m going to take off.”

“Oh. Okay. Did our chat help? You don’t seem so down anymore. Is it because you’re horrified by what Will thought? Now you’re too grossed out to beat yourself up over missing the meeting with the Council?” He found her hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze while he smiled at her warmly. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, but we were concerned. We thought you might’ve gone off the deep end. Willow and I were about to stage an intervention.”

“Seriously?” Buffy asked. Her stomach sank. “You’d really do that? Just because I…” She searched for the right words, but everything seemed too ridiculous. Her friends would stage an intervention because she defended Spike? Because she had treated him like a man, and not a monster, in front of them?

Oh, this wasn’t a good sign.

“Of course we would, Buffy. That’s how much we love our Buffster.”

“Oh. Great. That’s…great,” she said with a fake grin plastered on her face.
***

“Okay. Buffy wants me, to ask you, if you’ll walk me home.”

“She isn’t coming over at sundown?”

“Nope,” Dawn answered, reading the screen of her cell phone. “She wants you to stick around at our house and sleep over tonight. In the guestroom. Yeah right, like that’ll happen.” Dawn rolled her eyes. “Anyway. She’s gonna patrol the neighborhood, then she’s heading to the Magic Box. She’s got to…study? Now that’s just strange. She’s been ditching class daily since Tuesday and now she cares about school?”

As Spike hovered over a box of his burnt belongings, he watched Dawn text her sister with remarkable speed.

“Yeah, it’s what I thought. Okay, this makes more sense. She’s studying for that Watcher test tomorrow.”

“What Watcher test?” Spike asked, wiping his dirty hands off on a rag. He and Dawn were spending another afternoon sorting through the rubble in his crypt. They had an organized system in place where Spike would search for anything that looked somewhat salvageable then Dawn would tell him if it was actually worth saving. She had absolutely no problem telling him if his junkyard finds were crap, and that they probably were so even before Harmony had trashed his place.

“I don’t really know the details, because—well, hello, no one tells me anything, but…” Dawn inhaled deeply. Then she revealed everything she knew on only one breath. “Giles called this morning in a panic because he couldn’t find Buffy. He was, like, borderline hysterical. He rambled on about the Council and about Buffy’s worthiness and about a review. I overheard that the Council had, like, top-secret Glory information. Maybe they think she isn’t worthy of it now so they’re testing and reviewing her?”

“Because she missed a meeting? What the hell does she have to prove to those people? What would a test even tell them? She’s the Slayer. Who else could they enlighten with their precious information that could actually do something about it, but her?”

“I don’t know,” Dawn shrugged.

“I wonder if that’s even dawned on her,” Spike muttered, shaking his head. “They need her. It isn’t the other way around. She’s got the strength, the brains and the bloody title. The fucking Council isn’t fit to lick her sodding boots, but that’s exactly what they should be doing.”

“Wow. “

“What? Everything I said is true and you know it.”

“Yes, but you support a very Buffy-friendly, Buffy-does-no-wrong kind of truth. You guys have got to be together now. She was with you this morning, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Spike gave the girl a sideways glance as her face turned red. She was so much like her big sister; their similarities floored him. “Were you expecting a lie, bit?”

“No, I just…yes, I guess I was.”

“Dawn, I promise you it wasn’t like how you’re thinking in that dirty mind of yours. She slept. She was in the bed. I was in the chair.”

Until she climbed up in the chair with me, he finished silently. We shared a cuddle then she fucked me good and proper. Afterward, she touched my face, whispered an IOU and blew me a bloody air kiss that left me feeling like an utter sap, rock hard and aching for her all over again.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, pet?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me just about anything.”

“Am I in danger?”

“What makes you think such a thing?” Letting the rag drop from his hands, he walked to Dawn and stood in front of her as she sat on the crypt’s sarcophagus. “Is it because I’m watching over you after school?”

“Yes,” she admitted with a heavy sigh. “Buffy has always been protective, but now—I can’t do anything without a chaperone! I can’t go to Janice’s house anymore! I can’t stay at my own house without someone there!”

“I see.”

“I like spending time with you, but—but this is crazy!”

“I see…” With his head slanted to one side, he looked at Dawn thoughtfully. “Big sis is just keeping you safe, that’s all.”

“From what? From Glory? I don’t know anything about her dumb Key! I’d be the last person she’d want to torture for information!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Spike said. As he spoke, Doc’s last words about the Key nagged at him. Monks made it into a person, he had said. Spike knew nothing about any monks, only that they’d be pretty smart—and not to mention unfairly cruel—to tuck the Key into someone the Slayer loved. They’d have her defending their precious Key to the end. “You should realize how valuable you could be to a baddie, bit. Kidnap you, hurt you—or your mother, or even one of the bloody Scoobies—and suddenly the Slayer has to make some very tough calls.”

“Why didn’t you ever kidnap me?”

“’Cause I never had that intense of a death wish,” he snorted. “I got the witch once. Willow? But that had nothing to do with hurting Buffy. I just wanted Red to do me a love spell.”

“I just…this Key stuff, it’s ruining my social life.”

“Excuse me while I cry you a river.” He lifted himself up so he could sit on the hard stone sarcophagus at her side. “You think my social life is hopping when I’m here babysitting you every day?”

“Oh please,” Dawn responded with light giggle. “As if you care about socializing with anyone but my sister.”

“And who would you like to be socializing with?” Spike asked, raising his brow. “You still hung up on what’s-his-name? He, who I’ve been sworn to secrecy over? The guy I saw you snogging on at the Bronze?”

“His name is Kevin,” Dawn answered with another blush. “But I’m not talking about him. I’m fourteen, Spike. I need to get out there and enjoy my childhood. You’re a moldy old vampire. You’ve done a lifetime of…stuff. I’ve done nothing. And I will continue to do nothing if I’m stuck here or stuck at home every day until I die.”

“Or just until Glory dies. See, there’s glimmer of hope for you.”

“Yeah right,” she sighed. “You’re just lucky I think you’re cool, or I’d be putting up a total fight. F.Y.I., I have a long history of turning my babysitters into nutcases. I lock them out of house, trick them, and I make them cry.”

“Have you ever had a sitter who’s killed people with railroad spikes before?”

“No, but can you tell me about that?” She grabbed his arm and suddenly she wasn’t moping about being trapped anymore. “Can you tell me about you and Drusilla?”

“Alright, well, that’s more than just a little unsettling. Especially coming from my girl’s little sis. She wants to know about me and Dru? You trying to build up blackmail against me, pet?”

“I knew you and Buffy were together! I totally called it and you just confirmed it!” She laughed out loud and then continued on breathlessly, “But honestly, tell me about the time you let a whole bunch of people you were about to kill go, just because Buffy threatened to hurt Drusilla. Buffy used to say it was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen. She said the moment she got a hold of Drusilla you, like, gave up, but in a hot-way and not a wimp-way. She said that’s when she knew vampires, even crazy-evil ones without souls, were capable of love.”

“She said that?”

“Totally.”

“She—wait, hang on, should I believe you? Is this your way of trying to turn me into a nutcase?”

“What do you think? You know, if I wanted to, I could have you going crazy-nuts. In seconds. Buffy would be my not-so-secret, secret weapon. You’re way too easy to mess with.”

“Tell me about it,” he snickered softly. Then he gave her a nudge with his elbow, “But are you messing with me? Dawnie, did she tell you those things?” When she just smiled, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Right. If we can go back to our sorting and cleaning, I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Within reason.”

“Cool,” Dawn said. Still smiling, she followed Spike back to the boxes.
***

“Hi, all. How is everyone? Mom, how are you feeling? Dawn, how was school?” After patrolling and a brutal, multi-hour, guilt-driven workout, Buffy jogged into the living room. “Forgive the appearance,” she panted, gesturing to her red face, messy bun and workout attire. “If everyone’s okay, I’m going to shower and turn in early.”

With her hands on her hips, she quickly swept over the room. Her mother, sister, and new boyfriend were seated around the television, but she was the center of attention. Joyce looked concerned. Dawn had her nose wrinkled. Spike’s face was blank, but he was watching her closely, and Buffy felt as if his stare was drilling holes through her.

“Okay, well, goodnight. I’ll talk to everyone tomorrow, but not until after nine.”

“Buffy…?” Her mother said her name, but Buffy was already up the stairs. “What’s gotten into her?”

“She’s got a test tomorrow.”

“At school?” Joyce asked. “Isn’t it too soon for finals? She isn’t usually this jittery unless she’s--.”

“It’s Slayer-related jitters,” Dawn explained further. “The Council’s in town.”

“Girls, if you’ll excuse me…”

Upstairs, Buffy’s eyes grew wide. She didn’t wait to hear anything else. She ran into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

He wouldn’t really come up here. Not while I’m in the bathroom. Not while my family’s sitting downstairs on the couch.

She turned on the shower and started to take off her clothes.

Then she heard a light knock on the door.

“Whoever you are, go away,” she called out. Naked and with her hair down, she stepped into the tub and closed the shower curtain. With her eyes shut, she stood under the warm spray of water.

“Buffy, we need to talk.”

“No, you need to go away.”

“Why have you been crying?

The question made her pause. How did Spike know that? How could he? Her tears had dried hours ago. Had someone spoken to him? Had Giles confronted him?

“What do you mean?” Buffy demanded, pulling back the curtain enough to stick out her head. Suddenly she and Spike were nose-to-nose. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hello,” he said, capturing her lips in a quick kiss that took her breath away. “Now that’s a proper greeting compared to the shit you pulled downstairs.”

“Shit? There was no shit. I said hello--.”

“And then you promptly said sod off two seconds later. Are you avoiding me?”

“No. No, I’m not. You just shouldn’t be in here. They know you’re in here.”

“I don’t plan on joining you. Unless you’d like me to.” With the tip of his finger, he brushed the water droplets off her nose. “Would you like that, Buffy? You know, it’s a pity this curtain isn’t transparent. I could be getting quite the peep show right about now. Do me a favor, love, leave the curtain open a bit and drop the soap. I haven’t had a proper view of your naked backside thus far.”

“There is no way. Spike, I will not--.”

“Who made you cry, baby?”

Buffy let out a barely noticeable whimper as his thumb ran across her lower lip. “Why are you so—Spike, you can’t be rude one minute and all charming in the next, with your—your concerned face and silky touches.”

“Why not?”

“Because I find it annoying.”

“You do?” he replied with a pleased smirk.

“Yes, and I’d rather not be annoyed right now.”

“Slayer, I think you’re avoiding me. Did I make you upset somehow? I want you to talk to me. Now. And if you say you can’t or won’t until tomorrow at nine in the bloody morning, I won’t accept that as an answer.”

“I—okay, fine! I’ll talk to you! Just give me, like, five minutes! I-I’m wasting water!” She yanked on the curtain and finished her shower. Her body buzzed the entire time, knowing that Spike was in the same room as she washed herself. Although the curtain appeared opaque, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was seeing a lot more than he let on. And she knew it shouldn’t matter—she was sleeping with the guy—but the intimacy of the moment made her breath ragged just the same.

Without saying a word, she turned off the water. She reached for a towel from the rack on the wall and wrapped it securely around her hair. Then she boldly opened the curtain, ready to dive for the other towel that was farther down on the rack, but it wasn’t there. Spike had it in his hands.

“You want it? Come and get it,” he said, stretching the towel out wide.

“Just when I think you can’t get anymore ridiculous…” Rolling her eyes, but with an amused giggle, she walked into his open arms. As he hugged the towel around her, she kissed his smirking lips. Her arms wove around his neck, and she laughed again once the towel dropped abruptly. He even knocked the turban off her head, allowing her soaked hair to fall down in waves. He yanked her naked body flush against him, apparently not caring that she was getting him wet.

“I…I made a promise to myself,” she gasped, no longer laughing once one of his hands started to knead her breast while the other wouldn’t stop squeezing her ass. “I won’t have sex with you tonight. No matter what. I won’t do it.”

“You won’t?” He looked up at her, slowly releasing her other nipple from his mouth. “And why’s that? Your family—Buffy, the girls couldn’t care less.”

She ran a hand through his hair, instantly sensitive to the whine she detected in his voice. “Oh, they care, but that isn’t why. I’m cutting myself off. I’ll talk to you, but I won’t sleep with you.”

“Because of what happened this morning?”

Nodding, she kissed him chastely and removed his hands from her body. She gathered up one of the towels, bunched it around herself and headed into her room. “Giles knows about us,” she said once they were behind her closed door. “I told him.”

“And?”

“He wasn’t thrilled. He said…some stuff.” As she spoke, she pulled on a pair of underwear and a simple t-shirt style nightgown. “I saw Xander this afternoon too. He doesn’t know about us, but that didn’t stop him from--.”

“What did that twat say? Did he make you cry?”

“Don’t call him that, and no, Xander did not make me cry.”

“So it was the Watcher.”

“Spike, I screwed up a lot today,” she answered with a frown. “I feel like I failed everyone, and on every front. Bad Slayer, bad friend, bad girlfriend.”

“Because we’re together? Because we had sex? Is sex the problem here?”

“What?” she asked with a laugh. “Uh, no.”

“Then why can’t we have any?”

“One-track mind much? Or is it one-track mind always?” Snorting, she tossed the stuffed animals off her bed. Mr. Gordo ‘accidentally’ bounced off his chest and Spike just stared at her. “Spike, we’ll have sex tomorrow. I promise. Gosh, you’re such a horndog,” she continued, lightly teasing him while she slipped under the bedclothes. She stayed sitting up straight and scooted over to make room for him. “Hey, don’t pout. Come here. Sit with me.”

“I’ll stand for now if you don’t mind. Just keep talking, because, pet, I’m not following.”

“I embarrassed Giles. The Council has always criticized him because he doesn’t control me well.”

“He shouldn’t control you at all.”

“I know that and he knows that. But the Watchers think he’s irresponsible because he lets—no, because he allows me to be irresponsible.”

“It was one bloody meeting--.”

“It was important and I missed it. Now they’re determined to find other examples of my irresponsibility and all-around unworthiness.” Standing on her knees, she shuffled to the edge of the bed and looked up at Spike through her lashes. “Giles thinks you’re the number one example of my rotten decision making.”

She saw anger flicker in his eyes and tried to snuff it out with a kiss, but it didn’t work. For the first time, Spike didn’t kiss her back. He didn’t reach for her either. He stayed rigid.

“A challenge?” she smiled. She kissed his non-responsive mouth again. She took her time, enjoying herself as she tugged at his lips. “Come on, Spike, I shouldn’t have to tell you that I think he’s wrong.”

“I’d like to hear you say it anyway.”

“Okay.” Shrugging, she settled back on the bed. “Giles is wrong.”

“What upset you? What did he say?”

“Nothing much. Just that you’re no good. You’re evil. You can’t be trusted. You’re going to humiliate me. You’ll hurt my feelings. You’ll grow tired of me.”

“What?”

Buffy looked down, annoyed that she was becoming emotional again. “I don’t think he meant to poke at such a sore spot, but he stabbed it pretty hard. All Buffy’s boyfriends get tired of her sooner or later, but so far it’s been heavy on the sooner,” she mumbled. “Nobody stays with me too long. It’s a fact.”

“He said that? He actually said that to you?”

She nodded reluctantly, blinking away a tear. “Then I saw Xander. He thinks I’m using you for your strength and vampire super powers. Which I was, in a way, for a little while…in the beginning. He said if something happened to you, it’d be no big, and I didn’t correct him. I didn’t have the heart to fight with Xander too. And I messed up,” she said, looking at her fingers. “Giles blames you for this morning now. I have no doubt about it. Xander’s telling everyone that I’m using you--.”

“So you’ve decided to let them win by avoiding me and refusing to sleep with me?”

“What? God, Spike, is sex really the only thing on your mind? I’m not refusing you. My friends—I wasn’t thinking about them. I jumped you like a hussy earlier and I don’t want to rush us like that again. You’ve been filling me up with these pipe dreams about amazing, fantastic, unhurried sex. I-I want that. I want no interruptions and I want you to--.”

“Babe, you should stop talking.”

“God, you’re right,” she said. “I feel dumb. I’m blushing again, aren’t I?”

“You are not dumb, my love…my beautiful, irresistible hussy.”

“Okay. Maybe it’d be in your best interest if we all stopped talking,” Buffy said, glaring at him as he finally joined her on the bed. “It’s like you haven’t been listening to me at all. Once I said I wouldn’t sleep with you tonight, you checked out. I thought we were more than sex--.”

“Don’t say another word. If you’ll shut up, I’ll apologize.” When she crossed her arms in a huff, he leaned in to kiss her temple. He sought out her bare knee and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry. Will you please hear me out? When you said you were cutting yourself off, I thought you were punishing yourself. Like some martyr, alright? You said you wronged this person and that person—it pissed me off, especially since you’ve done nothing wrong. And you are right, what you were saying wasn’t quite sinking in. I thought you were pushing me away because of them. I couldn’t focus on anything else.”

“I wouldn’t do that--.”

“Hush, I’m not done. I thought--.”

“Yes, you are done. You hush and you shut up,” Buffy demanded. “I love my friends, but you’re my boyfriend now.”

“Yeah, I am,” he muttered, fighting back a smile. “Does this mean I trump your precious Scoobies?”

“I’m not answering that. Whatever I say will just go to your head.”

“You’ve got me pegged.” He opened his arms and Buffy crawled to him. He poured his affection for her into a sultry kiss that made her moan. He whispered into her ear and said, “I hate that they hurt you by badmouthing me. I can’t stand it. And that fucking Watcher of yours--.”

“Do we have to talk about that?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Just know that I won’t leave you. Not by choice. In fact, you’re never getting rid of me.”

Swallowing, she wiped imaginary crumbs off his chest as her eyes threatened to grow misty again. “So it’s once a stalker, always a stalker?”

“It’s something like that,” he said softly, rubbing her lower back. “Slayer, I want you to let Rupert blame me. Let Xander think whatever he can squeeze out of his pea-sized brain. And the Council? You have nothing to prove to them. You’re the Slayer. They need you. Look at how much we’ve learned, just you and me on our own. Buffy, if you insist on taking their test, at least let me help you. I don’t exactly know how you studied earlier, other than running yourself to tatters, but, I think we should spar.”

“Huh?” she croaked, still battling her emotions.

“You heard me. We should give it a try. I’ll go in with you tomorrow. As early as you want. You can consider me a warm-up for whatever they throw at you. I’ll take the tunnels home.”

“The chip--.”

“It won’t be a problem. I won’t hurt you.”

“But Giles. I don’t want conflict.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he began, hugging her tight. “Your friends and I, we’re conflict-ridden, but I’ll do my best to play nice. You have my word.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” She let out a sigh of relief and almost laughed out loud, amazed by how much lighter she felt after talking to Spike, hearing his opinions and receiving his promises. “Spike, I really do need to go to sleep.”

“Is that my cue to head back downstairs?”

“I guess that’s up to you. If you’re interested in sharing my bed and sleeping in it, you can stay. If you want more, I think it’d be best if you slept in the guestroom.”

“You do realize I don’t have to consider my options. To choose between holding you while you sleep and being in a bed alone, pining for you? It’s a no brainer.”

“Oh, okay.” A warm tingling feeling shot to heart and between her legs simultaneously. “Do you have something to sleep in? Your clothes are still kinda damp.”

“Joyce was kind enough to weed through her closet for some of your father’s clothing. I believe it’s all piled in a stack on your vanity.”

“Oh, good. Thank God.”

“Why do you say that? Summers, would you protest to me sleeping with you while I’m starkers? Would your desire for my hot naked bod try your unwavering self-control?”

“You’re trying me right now. Period.”

With a laugh, Spike told her to get into bed. And, hidden underneath her blankets, she watched hungrily as he stripped down to nothing and tied a too-big pair of drawstring pajama bottoms around his waist.

“You enjoy the show, pet?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, rolling onto her side. Her heart sped up as he scooted behind her, curling his body against hers. His hand automatically went under her nightgown, hiking it up to her waist.

“Baby, relax.”

“I don’t think I can. Not if you keep doing that. Spike, please,” she groaned softly as he stroked her hip. He tangled their legs together and her eyes fluttered to a close. “I never said I didn’t want you so don’t torture me.”

Snorting, his hand traveled farther up her nightgown. This time he wrapped his arm snuggly around her stomach. “Is this alright?” he asked, his lips against the back of her neck. “Are you comfortable?”

“I don’t know if I’d use that word. I’m battling my inner hussy as we speak and she’s putting up one hell of a fight. She wants you real bad.” Before Spike could reply, she rolled over and swallowed up his smiling lips in a deep kiss. “I want you bad.”

“Buffy--.”

“You should go downstairs.”

“What? No, I’m not leaving--.”

“Please?” she asked even as she kissed him again. “Spike, I can’t--.”

“Yes, you bloody-well can,” Spike proclaimed. Breaking their kiss, he prompted her to roll over again. He caught the hem of her nightgown and yanked it down as far as it would go. “Close your eyes and relax. Forget the tension buzzing between us. Ignore it.”

“That’s easy for you to say. My tension isn’t poking you in the back.”

“No, but I can smell exactly how wet you are.”

“Spike,” Buffy croaked as his arm came across her again. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Think about how my arm feels around you--.”

“That’s all I can think about.”

“Blast you and your silly idea to cut yourself off.”

“I have to get up in a few hours. I’ve been thinking about our next time together all day. I’ve been obsessing about it. I can’t do everything I want to do for you and get a full night’s sleep and wake up freaking early--.”

“That’s it.” Mumbling a curse, he threw back the blankets and headed for the door.

“Spike?”

“I’m sleeping in the bloody guestroom. You’re about to drive me up the bloody walls.”

“Oh. Won’t you at least kiss me goodnight?”

“You’re insufferable,” he said, storming back to her. He hovered over her and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe or see straight. “Why can’t anything be easy with you?”

“I don’t know.” As she panted, she couldn’t stop smiling. “Guess I just want you too much. I’m sure it’ll wear off eventually.”

“It’d better not.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead and muttered a quiet ‘goodnight.’

“Goodnight, Spike,” Buffy replied. Once he closed her bedroom door, she continued to grin. She nodded off, thinking of her new boyfriend, with a smile still on her face.
***

Chapter 20

“Spike? Tell me, how’s this gonna go down? Should I just charge at you now with my guns all a-blazing, or should we ring a bell like they do in the boxing ring before I start wailing on you? Maybe we should have a countdown, something like: one, two, three; let’s get ready to rumble!”

“You’ve never sparred with anyone before?”

“Nope. Not really.”

“But you plan on wailing on me?”

“Yup.”

Spike bit back a smirk as he watched Buffy unzip her hoodie and toss it aside, revealing her tight tank top underneath. She squirmed anxiously as she stood before him on the padded mat that covered the floor of the Magic Box’s training room, rocking her weight from the balls of her feet to her heels and back.

His girl had been on edge all morning, but somehow her jitters had no negative effect on her mood. If truth were told, she’d been surprisingly agreeable from the moment she’d kissed Spike out of a sound sleep.

“It’s time to get up,” she had whispered into his ear sweetly. It was followed by another brush from her soft lips and a mumbled confession. “I hope you don’t mind that I kinda broke into your crypt this morning. I raided the place. I brought back clothes, toiletries, a bag of blood—heck, I even have that goop you love to put in your hair. Now you can shower, dress in your own clothes and eat. Now we can get moving. I’d really like to be out the door in thirty, so if you could hustle, I’d appreciate it.”

“Pet, you’ve got to be joking,” was his initial sleepy response, but once he’d opened his eyes, finding his Slayer looking both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed—at five in the morning—he’d thought differently.

And well-before his allotted thirty minutes were up, they were walking to the Magic Box hand-in-hand.

“Hey, Spike?”

“Yes, my love?” he answered, taking off his jacket, piling it on her discarded sweatshirt.

“What about when Giles dresses up in his puffy suit and I hit him?”

“What about it?”

“Would you consider that sparring? He really tries to fight back in the beginning, but he usually ends up cowering…in a fetal position. I guess it does count as a training exercise no matter what, because a lot of demons do that. They cower when they see me.”

“As they should.” He and Buffy exchanged closed-lipped grins before Spike continued, “Slayer, I wouldn’t consider that puffy suit as anything more than your Watcher making a complete fool of himself.”

“Well, he does try. Giles trains me the best that he can. Without him…” She looked down at her shoes before mumbling, “Did I tell you the Council threatened to deport him?”

“No, sweet, you didn’t.”

“Guess I forgot to mention it yesterday,” she said, ending her sentence with a heavy sigh. “Okay, so there’s been no real sparring in my past. Will this be a problem for us?”

“Not at all. I like the idea of being your first.”

“I’m sure,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You know, speaking of my actual first, Angel and I did have an intense session of yoga once, but I doubt you’d--.”

“Hold on. Yoga?” Unable to stop himself, Spike let out a snort. He scratched his brow with his little finger as he chuckled. “That poof would…bloody yoga. Oh, but it was an intense variety of yoga, wasn’t it?”

“What’s wrong with yoga? Hey, it was hot. It was at the height of our angst. There was touching when there couldn’t be a lot of touching. Warm, fuzzy, heavily repressed feelings were ignited and—damn it, Spike, will you stop laughing?” With her own snicker, she stepped forward to slap at his arm. “Yoga with Angel was hot. It was super hot.”

“Right. I can imagine.” Holding a hand to his chest, he spoke in a high girlish sounding voice. “Oh, Angel the way you hold that pose? That downward-facing-fucking-dog? It makes you look dreamier and more bloody constipated than ever before! Oh, be still my raging teenage hormones! And blast the curse that keeps you from settling between my underage dimpled knees!”

“You’re horrible.”

“But on point, am I not?”

“First of all, I don’t sound like that,” she said, leaning against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Secondly, I don’t talk like that. And third, I wasn’t that young.”

“Yes, but besides those few meaningless details…? Come on, love. Own up.”

“Okay, you’re pretty…on pointy,” she admitted with a little smile. In her flat sneakers, she stood on her toes as she briefly kissed his lips.

“I knew it.”

“God, you’re right all the freaking time,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face into his chest as she hugged him tight. “I should start hitting you now, shouldn’t I?”

The hint of regret in her voice tugged at his heartstrings. As she continued to cling to him, Spike kissed the top of her head. “Pet, as much as I’d like for you to cuddle on me all morning long, I promised you a warm-up. Here you’re all dressed up in your naughty-girl pigtails and those silly short pants…” He ran a hand along one of her braids and sighed, “Let’s put ‘em to use, Slayer.”

“Naughty-girl pigtails? Silly short pants?” Placing her hands on her hips, she backed away, just as Spike knew she would. “These are the braids of a girl suffering from a very bad hair day because her big brute of a boyfriend interrupted her shower last night. My entire beauty routine went to crap because I had to entertain you. And my pants aren’t silly or short. They’re wide-legged capris. This is how they’re supposed to look. I could be wearing spandex, you know.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“You’re aware of that? What’s supposed to--.”

“But what happened on top, love? You’ll deny the Watchers the pants that’ll cling to your ass like a second skin, but you’ll give them all-access to your tits?”

“Excuse me? Stop right there. I might have some cleavage showing, but it isn’t an obscene amount.” Spike opened his mouth, but she held up her hand and glared. “Don’t say another word. This fashion critique is over. I really think I should hit you now.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Along with his challenge, he gave her a wink. He started to circle around her at a slow pace and without any instruction Buffy followed his lead. She kept after him step-by-step, determined not to break their eye contact as they circled each other defensively.

“You’re going down. You dissed my clothes. My hair. You riled me up on purpose.”

“Possibly,” he smirked, and she laughed as she charged at him. Spike ducked beneath her rapidly swinging arm again and again. He took a few swipes back with no intention of hitting her; he just wanted her to react. And she reacted beautifully, blocking and dodging each assault. She rolled on the mat and swept his feet out from underneath him, dropping him hard to the floor.

“Sorry, honey,” she sang. Then she was on all fours, hovering above him. “You okay?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Sitting back on her knees, she balled up her fist and hit over his heart with a soft thump. “You’re lucky this stake in my hand is imaginary, you dummy, or you’d be dust right now.”

“Didn’t know you were wielding an imaginary stake. You’re dangerous, kitten.”

“Yeah, well...” A soft blush colored her cheeks as she stood. She leaned over to offer Spike a hand and that’s when he attacked. He grabbed her at the bend of her knee and sent her flying.

“Pet, that was too easy.”

“You weren’t playing fair.”

“You gonna do something about it?”

They jumped to their feet at the same time, but Spike got to her first.

“Spike. Don’t. Forget. The. Chip,” Buffy reminded him as she gracefully avoided his punches and kicks.

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. I meant it.”

“I know, but I don’t care about me.”

“You should. Sweetheart, you should—oh, lookie, Slayer, I’ve got you now.” Fully aware that he was grinning like a mad man, he dug his fingers into her arms, pinning her against the wall of the training room. “I’ve missed this. Can’t tell you how much I’ve missed fighting you,” he said, lowering his voice to a soft murmur.

“I’m feeling nostalgic myself.” Her face was rosy and her chest heaved against his. Spike was about to ask if she needed a break when she smacked her forehead against his. “I’ve missed kicking your ass,” she giggled, apparently finding it hilarious once he crumpled to floor after being head butted.

“Oh, now you’re in for it.”

“No way!” she squealed, running in the opposite direction. “You should just give up. How many times have I knocked you on your butt so far?”

“Listen to you gloat. Gloating on you, baby…” Before Buffy could do anything about it, Spike had her body slammed to the floor. “It’s fucking sexy.”

“Aw, thanks,” she panted. “You’re sweet.”

“Are you alright?”

“Totally. Slayers. I think we have a higher threshold for pain. I just need to catch my breath. It’s difficult to run and duck and jump, all at Slayer-speed, while I’m laughing. How are you?”

“Never felt better,” he responded, rolling onto his back.

“What about your forehead? Gimme.”

“What?”

“Let me see your forehead.” Lifting from the waist up, she leaned over to gingerly touch the red welt she’d left a few inches from his left temple. “We must have matching goose eggs. I’m sorry about that. Doesn’t it hurt? Out of everything so far, my head aches, and I pretty much did that to myself.”

“Slayer, I was afraid this would happen.”

“The matching bumps on our heads? Are you sure you’re okay?” Concerned, she reached for his forehead again but Spike caught her hand and pushed her fingers against his lips. “We should find some ice--.”

“Simmer, Nurse Buffy,” he laughed, kissing her knuckles. “We’ve done little to no actual sparring. That’s what I was dreading. We don’t level out so much anymore. We used to be a perfect match. Now, me sparring with you is about as helpful as Giles in his fucking puffy suit. It’s embarrassing.”

“I don’t agree. I worked a bunch on my dodging skills. And if we worked on our technique, and actually thought it through, I’m sure we could have something really productive here. So maybe we can’t pummel each other like we used to--.”

“Because of the bloody chip. The chip mucks--.”

“Chipmunks?”

“Ha,” he said, reaching to tug on one of her braids. “Cute, pet. I was trying to say that the sodding chip in my sodding head is mucking everything up. It’s stopping us from fighting properly.”

“Oh. And here I thought it was our new boyfriend-girlfriend status that was keeping our fight fun and not-so-proper. Silly me. My bad.”

Lifting up on bent elbows, Spike looked at her for a moment and then he said, “There was that too.”

“There was that too? Alright. Okay…”

“Don’t go there. Don’t read between the lines, Buffy. Don’t even think about it.”

“I don’t have to. I’m reading the actual lines as we speak, and they are your priorities, Spike. There’s sex at number one, and fighting at number two, followed closely by--.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re on the right track, but still wrong. Let’s get it correct, shall we? It’s sex with you, and fighting with you, and whatever else you were about to add for number three, you’d better tack on a ‘with you’ to the end of it too.”

Buffy blinked. She said nothing.

“Have I made you speechless?” Spike asked with an amused chuckle. She just blinked again as he rested his head in the cradle of her warm thighs. Grabbing her braids again, he brought her head down to kissing distance. “You really are cute. Slayer, you’re in a downright lovely mood this morning.”

“Thanks. I got a decent amount of sleep last night. More than I’ve had in a while.”

“Wish I could say the same. After you cast me aside, I had no choice but to turn to the television for comfort.”

“What? Spike, what the hell are you talking about?” She giggled again and it was music to Spike’s ears. “I didn’t cast you anywhere. I put you on hold—no, I put us on hold. I postponed us. You’re such a dork. You turned to the TV for comfort? Well, I hope watching shitty late-night TV brought you loads of comfort.”

“Baby, was that pun intentional? ‘Cause I’ll have you know, I took care of my load in your mother’s pretty guestroom before I headed out to the telly. Had to. You left me with no choice. I was aching. You had me high and dry.”

“What…what?” Her eyes grew wide. “You…? Oh, don’t say anything!” She covered up his mouth with her palms. “God, why didn’t you just go to sleep? Couldn’t you have just slept it off?”

“Is that what you did?” he asked quietly, removing her hands from his lips.

“Yes, I went to sleep,” she replied as her face burned. “I-I went directly to sleep.”

“Did you think of me?”

“While I was sleeping?”

“Before that.”

“Yes, I did, but I didn’t…do…that.” Her nose wrinkled then her entire face scrunched up as he smiled up at her. “You’re such a pain.”

“Oh, but you love me regardless.”

She froze, and Spike knew he’d stuck his foot in his mouth.

“Hey now, there’s no need to get your feathers ruffled. I was only joking. I…damn it, pet, they’re just bloody words. Don’t take ‘em to heart.”

“You and your just words…” she began with an unreadable expression on her face. “Spike, you’ve picked on me about Angel, you’ve made dumb comments about my clothes and my hair, you made that crack about us no longer being a perfect match…”

His brow rose. He didn’t expect to hear that in her list of grievances.

“…You proved further that you’ve got an unhealthy obsession with making me blush.”

“Buffy--.”

“I’m on to you,” she said softly. Instead of moving away, she dug one hand in his hair while the other simply held the side of his face. “I know what you’ve been up to, and I appreciate it. You’ve kept me preoccupied. Blissfully preoccupied. You’ve distracted me, but you’ve kept me on task. You’ve kept my thoughts off my screwy nerves by being a complete bonehead.” With a laugh, she brushed a kiss on his lips. “An incredibly sweet bonehead.”

“You were about to burst at the seams. You were fighting it off, but I had to intervene--.” He couldn’t finish his sentence or even his train of thought because she was kissing him again. Her lips were so warm and inviting, he cringed as he pulled away.

“Hey--.”

“Don’t you dare sulk.” Desperate to avoid her confused expression and slight pout, Spike lifted his head out of her lap. He stood and offered to help Buffy off the floor, but she refused to take his hand. “Come on, the bloody Watcher brigade could be here any minute--.”

“Do you hear them?”

“No, but--.”

“Until you hear them enter the building, I don’t care about them. I meant what I said. I like being preoccupied by my new boyfriend. So get back down here and preoccupy me.”

“You really want to risk us shagging on the floor of your Watcher’s place of business?”

“Giles… Giles doesn’t work back here.”

“Is that right? Sweetheart, I’d choose your words more carefully or a bloke could misunderstand, and you could end up with those silly short pants down around your ankles in seconds flat.”

She swallowed, but kept herself mostly composed. “I won’t hit you again. Stop trying to rile me up. Our sparring is over and done with.”

“Yeah, and a lot of help it was…”

“Oh, don’t get all mopey about your chip again. I don’t care if we can’t fight like we used to. I want to fight with you, but not like that. I want you with me on the field where you’re unstoppable. And I like this kind of sparring.”

“You mean the kind where we mainly just run about, play keep-away and snog on the mat?”

“Yeah. It’s fun.”

“Fun?”

“And hot.”

“Hotter than yoga with Angel?”

“What do you think?” His girl might’ve appeared innocent in her frizzy pigtails, with her legs stretched out in front of her as she knocked her sneakers together, but the way she was looking at him through her lashes? It took all his will power not to scoop her into his arms and carry her off right then.

“Maybe you should spell it out to me?” he suggested.

“Angel and I had sexual tension. We had tons of it, but we couldn’t act on it. He hardly kissed me after I broke his curse. It didn’t stop me from wanting him, but being around him—it felt as if I were given a string of amazing promises that could never ever be fulfilled. It made wanting him about as enjoyable as getting my teeth kicked in.”

“So… You’re saying it’s more fun to want me?” He offered her his hand again. This time she took it and walked into his arms, pressing her body flush against his. She pillowed her head on his chest as she returned his embrace. “You’d pick desiring me over wanting Angel and his abnormally large forehead?”

When she said nothing, he brushed her nose with the end of one of her braids. “You know, I never would’ve pegged you as a touchy-feely type, but you’ve been clinging to me all morning.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No. Not at all,” he said, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I don’t see why you care about Angel so much. I’m with you, and I can’t be with him. He has a curse while we have no real restrictions other than our bad timing. He and I were plagued with drama, and the only obstacle for us is my friends hating you.”

“So you’re saying I win by default?”

“I know you thrive on one-upping Angel, but there’s no competition here.”

“But you love him. If he’s still in your heart, how am I supposed to weasel my way in there? Especially if that sod’s taking up all the room?”

He felt her take a deep breath. At least she was hesitating before she crushed him. He assumed she was trying to think up the best way to break it to him: she’d never love him, or maybe if she could muster up some affection for his sorry ass, she’d never love him as much as her precious Angel. Caught up in his thoughts, Spike almost didn’t notice the faint jingle of the front door as it was pushed open.

“Saved by the bell, Slayer. We’ve got company.”

“How many are there?”

“One. It’s just Giles.”

He expected her to dash out of his arms then, but she didn’t. “I love Angel,” she confessed. “I always will, but not like I used to. Spike, when the time comes--.” She cut herself off, grabbed him and kissed him hard. “It’s really early in the game, you know? My feelings are intense and unruly. I can’t—I won’t say anything until I’m sure, and I’m nowhere near sure--.”

“Buffy, hush,” he said just as Giles called out her name.

“I can’t,” she whispered back. “There’s room in my…in my heart, okay? Until the time is right, I’ll…I’ll save you a seat? God, I know how corny that sounds, but you started it with your corny metaphor.”

It was his turn to swallow her up with kisses. How could he not? “You’re bloody perfect, have I told that today? At times you seem so fucking innocent, but you know exactly how to bring a man down to his knees.”

“I…” She closed her eyes as Spike kissed her neck. Her Watcher called out for her again, and she said, “Giles, I’m back here. Hold on a minute.”

“Buffy, I thought you might be early so I brought, eh, donuts and coffee. I was hoping we could speak about yesterday and clear the air about Spike. I know this is a delicate situation and that I didn’t handle it well, but—Spike…you’re…here.” With a brown bag in one hand and a drink tray in the other, Giles just blinked as he stood in the doorway.

“Good morning to you too, Watcher,” Spike said, looking at Buffy’s surrogate father squarely in the eye as he gave her one last drawn out kiss before they broke apart.

“Um…” Buffy licked her lips and gave the hem of her tank top a few self-conscious tugs. “Spike helped me warm-up for my test,” she announced, she tried to sound chipper, but still came off as a kid caught elbow-deep in a cookie jar.

“I see…”

“We sparred.”

“Oh?” Giles’ brow rose. “How did that—that worked out for you? Regardless of his chip?”

“We worked around it,” Buffy replied with an ‘it was no big deal’ shrug. “Now I’m worked up. I’m pumped and ready to kick some vampire ass. Giles, do you think my test will consist of just vampire ass kicking?”

“It’ll probably be something along those lines. Will Spike—Spike, will you be staying for the review?”

Although he addressed him by name, Giles wouldn’t look at him directly. Running his tongue across his teeth, hoping to come across as smug as possible, Spike stood behind Buffy and wrapped his arms around her. He folded his hands together, resting them casually against Buffy’s flat stomach. “Didn’t think I had the option to stay,” he said smoothly as he placed a kiss on his Slayer’s temple.

And Giles’ eye started to twitch on cue. “Actually the Council expressed some interest in you. There’s a woman in particular that seemed very…eager to question William the Bloody.”

“Why is that? Who’s this woman?” Buffy asked. “Giles, did you tell them about his chip? Did you tell them how he’s helped me out in the past?”

“Yes, yes--.”

“Did you tell them that he’s off limits?” she continued with a noticeable edge to her voice.

“Pet, I can handle those pompous goons. Don’t you worry about me.” He leaned in to kiss her again, but was stopped short by an elbow jabbed into his side.

“Quit it,” she hissed, squirming out of his hold. “And I will worry. These people try to kill me every time I turn around, and I used to work for them. You’re a vampire and you’re—you’re going home.”

“What?” Spike asked with a laugh. “Slayer--.”

“You heard me. Get out of here. I won’t risk them hurting you.”

“Now, love…” Spike lowered his voice a tad, not appreciating the way Giles was staring at his Slayer as if she’d lost her mind. “Did they say what they wanted with me? Hey, earth to Watcher.” He snapped his fingers in front of Giles’ face when he continued to look stunned. “Did they say what they wanted with me?”

“You’re on the list of people they’d like to interview. The interviews will continue this afternoon.”

“Well that settles it. I’ve got to stay. I have plans this afternoon. The Slayer and I both do. In fact, Rupert, you should spread the word: she’ll be booked right up from the end of this test to at least tomorrow morning. Hell, let’s make it the entire weekend. She won’t be accepting calls or making appearances. I won’t be on hand for babysitting. Dawn and her mum’ll have to toddle between you Scoobies for a change.”

“Buffy, surely you can’t be serious. To make yourself completely unavailable at a time like this…”

“Well, I won’t be completely unavailable. I won’t even be halfway unavailable.” She tucked her braids behind her ears as a soft blush warmed her features. “I will take calls. And if there’s an emergency, you can find us at…well, at Spike’s crypt.”

“But choose your emergencies carefully, Watcher, and knock before you enter.”

“Oh yeah, that’s a biggie. Knocking is of the super important. I can’t stress that enough.”

“Don’t worry, we can chain up the doors if that’ll make you feel better,” Spike mumbled for Buffy’s ears alone. He kissed her temple again and this time, she leaned into him and smiled prettily with her eyes downcast.

“Spike, you’re embarrassing me,” she whispered.

“Just ignore ol’ Rupes, he’s over there pretending like he’s blind anyway. Look at him, staring off into the corners of the room. Brings me back to our engagement once upon a time.”

“Yes, yes, speaking of that,” Giles began with a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Have you spoken to Willow? Have you asked her if she might’ve accidentally cast another spell similar to that one? For you both to be so friendly so…so very quickly… Buffy, are you sure Spike hasn’t--.”

“He hasn’t,” Buffy insisted with so much conviction it made Spike kiss her again. “There have been no spells. Everything between us has happened the old-fashioned way. The normal way.”

“I won her over.”

“He practically knocked me over,” Buffy corrected with a laugh. Then she quickly sobered. “Giles, I know you don’t trust him, or like him, but I do. And if trusting him, and liking him blows up in my face…”

“That won’t happen,” Spike muttered in her ear. “Not if I can help it. I love you. I will not muck this up. Being with you, just these few days, it’s like living a bloody dream.”

Buffy took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Giles, Spike is my boyfriend. We can have that talk you mentioned earlier, but whatever is said, no matter what, everything will boil down to that fact. He’s my boyfriend. I like him. I care about him, I trust him, and I want him. I want us to work and I won’t let you or anyone stand in the way of that.”

“Now that was quite a declaration.” From behind Giles, Quentin Travers slowly clapped his hands. “Who knew William the Bloody could bring forth such fervor from our young Slayer? Perhaps a physical exam and our remaining interviews won’t be necessary. Taking your tardiness into account, and now this, Miss Summers, I’m profoundly disappointed in you.”

“Her private life is not on trial here,” Giles said, glaring at the other man just as strongly as Buffy and Spike were.

“Isn’t it? She takes civilians on patrols with her. You allow these friends of hers, these children, to assist in your research because you’re incapable of doing so on your own. Now she’s involved with another vampire? The vampire she’s failed to extinguish although he’s lived in this town for years? I guess the saying, ‘if you can’t beat them, join them,’ applies all too well here. It’s laughable.”

“So, you don’t like my boyfriend, and I was tardy, is that really enough to deny me information about Glory?”

“Buffy, I think your Watcher hasn’t reminded you lately of the resolute status of the players in our game here. The Council fights evil. The Slayer is the instrument by which we fight. The Council remains, the Slayers change. It’s been that way from the beginning.”

“Well, that’s a very comforting, bloodless way of looking at it, isn’t it?” Giles mumbled, looking at Quentin scornfully.

“Now, Giles, don’t interrupt because I believe she’s understanding me.” He stepped past Giles and Spike as if they were no longer in the room. “Glory is stronger than you, Miss Summers. She’s a more powerful instrument, if you will. We can help you. We have information that will help you. I can tell you exactly what she is. I can tell you where she came from and what she wants. Resist our recommendations--.”

“What recommendations? Have you made recommendations? I just recall a bunch of putdowns and haughtiness.”

“Buffy, you are dealing with grown ups now--.”

“Just answer the question please,” Buffy said, hands on her hips. “What do you expect me to do for your precious information? You want me to jump through hoops, right? Give me the details.”

“You will no longer include civilians in Slayer-matters. And the vampire boyfriend, well, of course he has to go.”

“Of course. And what if I told you I know that Glory’s a god, I know she’s from a Hell dimension, and I know she wants the Key ‘cause it’ll help her get home? Mr. Travers, I know all of this because of my vampire boyfriend. He’s actually pretty handy to have around. He’s supposed to be the evil one, but he hasn’t held information hostage from me. You think I’m a disappointment because I have people who care about me? I watch over Glory’s Key twenty-four-seven. If you’d like to find a new instrument to use against Glory, be my guest, but—Mr. Travers, do you even know where her Key is?”

When he didn’t respond, Buffy rolled her eyes. “Some all-knowing brain you turned out to be. Unless you can tell me exactly how to kill Glory, I’m not playing your game. Maybe you can find another Slayer, but she won’t be as good as me. And what’s the Council without a decent Slayer? Just a bunch of uptight socially inept men in itchy tweed suits who need a girl to fight their battles. How pathetic is that? No offense, Giles.”

“None taken.”

“You can’t throw your weight around in my town when you know squat,” Buffy continued, her confidence swelling with every passing minute. “I have the Key. I have the strength, and my friends, Giles, and my boyfriend make me ten times more powerful. If you’d like to ride our coattails, I have some recommendations you must follow.”

“Such as?”

“We work together, and not in the you-hovering-and-bossing-everyone-around sense. I fight, you watch. You have no say over how I get the job done. The civilians stay and so does the boyfriend. Giles will not be deported. When Giles calls, you help. You hire him back. You pay him, and I think it’s about time you started paying all your instruments. I’m not in high school anymore. I am a grown up. I have responsibilities and my mom needs help. You tell me what I need to know and I’ll kill Glory for you, or I’ll die trying. If the Council’s goal is truly fighting evil, then I’d say that’s an offer you can’t refuse.”

“Alright. I accept your terms.”

“You do?” Buffy asked, letting a glimmer of surprise show. Then she swallowed it up and appeared stone-faced. “Good. Now tell me what you know.”

“To fight a god, you must use a weapon made for a god.”

“Okay…”

“We’re in the process of consulting with the Powers that Be for the location of such a weapon. The oracles can be…fickle at times.”

“You’ve pissed them off too?”

“Once we have their cooperation, Miss Summers, you will know the whereabouts of a weapon that can hurt Glory.”

“But not kill her?”

“We do not know how to kill her yet. We know two powerful Hell gods overthrew her, but even they couldn’t kill her. She is contained in our earthly dimension as a punishment, but we’re not sure to what extent. We believe something is holding her back.”

“Other than being crazy obsessive over the Key, she didn’t seem to be held back by anything when I saw her last.”

“You must remember she isn’t in her true form. You’ve only seen a fraction of what she is capable of.”

“Great. How long will it take before you have the Powers’ cooperation?”

“A few weeks. We’re making remarkable progress.”

“Are you kidding?” Buffy laughed. “Mr. Travers, you’re really letting me down. You really don’t know much of anything. I can get us a direct line to the oracles.”

“How?” Quentin looked from Buffy to Giles.

“It’s Angel,” Giles replied with a shrug. “He communicates with them. Regularly, I believe.”

“It’s another perk of a vampire boyfriend. They’ve been around forever and they’re great at networking.”

“Could he act as our liaison?”

“Sure?”

“Angel is in Los Angeles, is he not? That’s not too far away from here. We should leave for Los Angeles immediately.”

“Hang on, there’s no reason to do that,” Spike blurted out. “He doesn’t need us holding his hand while he converses with the bloody oracles. Buffy can call him then he can call her back. Wherever the weapon is, we’ll go after it after we receive his call.”

“I don’t believe it’s your decision,” Quentin remarked. “If Buffy and Giles are my paid employees now, I do have some say over the information they disclose, especially when it’s disclosed to a notoriously unstable vampire. What if he became Angelus again after learning about Glory?”

“He already knows bits and pieces,” Buffy answered. “Just let me call him. Giles, we’re going to use your phone.” At the ‘we,’ Buffy tugged on Spike’s shirtsleeve.

“Miss Summers, I’d like to be a part of your call,” Quentin called out, following behind them as they headed to Giles’ office.

“Isn’t this hovering? Love, he’s breaking one of your rules and you established them only a breath ago.”

“Yeah, but if he’s willing to pay…” Bringing Spike aside, she continued to whisper, “Mom’s bills are stacking up and she hasn’t had the biopsy yet. If I can help her… I won’t let him push me around, but won’t push him so much that it makes my first paying job end before it starts.”

“Pet…”

“Just bear with me, and please bear with them. Okay?” Not giving Spike a chance to speak, she kissed him. “I’m not giving up on our weekend just yet. Know that. And if we have to take a drive up to LA, at least you’ll have the chance to one-up him in person.”

“You’ll tell him about us?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” was all she said before she turned her attention back to the Watchers and picked up Giles’ telephone. “Hey, Angel? Hi, it’s me…”
***

Chapter 21

“Just how long does it usually take to have a confab with the Powers that Be?”

Over an hour had crawled by since she’d ended the telephone call to Angel, and Buffy was still behind Giles’ desk. Her fist propped up her heavy chin in a classic ‘thinking pose’ as she drew lazy circles on Spike’s knee. He was merely an inch away, sitting on the top of the desk with his back to the window that looked out into the main room of the Magic Box.

“You know, pet, I’m finding this set-up fairly bizarre.”

“What do you mean? Why do you say that?”

“You’re all supposed to be working together, am I right? You reached an agreement with Travers. You laid out rules. You brilliantly put the old geezer in his place. You proved your worth without having to submit to his tests and bloody evaluation. But now we’re holed up in Rupert’s cluttered, musty-smelling office while they’re hovering about in the big room with its proper air circulation and decent furniture? Why does this not add up?”

“Well, we aren’t buddies with the Council; we’re business partners,” Buffy explained. “There’s nothing wrong with some avoiding and some us-verses-them seating arrangements in business. Right, Giles?”

“Ah, yes, it’s perfectly…normal,” Giles answered from the corner of the room. He was sitting on a caved in moving box. Whenever he moved too freely, his elbow bumped into the metal filing cabinet that was also in the tight space. “I imagine it’s more of a standard practice than one pretending a box can double for a sodding La-Z-Boy,” he finished, mumbling under his breath.

“Even if Mr. Travers is paying us, that doesn’t mean we have to hang with the guy and his cronies,” Buffy added.

At the word ‘cronies,’ Buffy looked through the window at the two Council members who had joined Quentin. Buffy liked to think she’d been glaring at the man and woman equally, but her eyes kept drifting back to Lydia, the pretty female Watcher who had proudly informed them that William the Bloody had been the topic of her entrance thesis into the Council of Watchers. She’d studied Spike for years, she had boasted. Lydia even felt as if she knew Spike personally through ‘extensively researching his fascinating transformation from a lonely poet into a vicious vampire consumed by the pure joy of wreaking havoc.’

Lydia’s so-called scholarly interest in Spike turned Buffy’s stomach.

And before Lydia had a chance to fully drool that ‘interest’ all over Spike, Buffy had him snatched back into Giles’ office where she’d been watching over him ever since.

And from the grin plastered on Spike’s face, Buffy knew her protective behavior hadn’t gone overlooked and that it pleased him immensely.

“Anyway, Giles’ office is…nice,” she continued, tearing her eyes from the window. “It’s a definite step up from his office in the high school’s library. This is bigger and cozy and—well, he hasn’t been here too long. He isn’t done unpacking his things so you can’t blame Giles for the smell.”

As she spoke, she knocked Spike’s feet off the furniture. She pressed her chest against his legs and lifted up her arms, folding them over his knees, pillowing her head on her forearms.

“Slayer, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Multi-tasking. I’m getting comfy while I stop you from scuffing up Giles’ stuff.”

“I see,” he replied, running his thumb and forefinger along one of her braids. “So this sudden need to hang on me has nothing to do with Lydia, my number one fan?”

“That woman is a groupie and a stalker,” Buffy grumbled. “We should get a restraining order against her. I want at least thirty feet between her and you at all times. She gives me major wigs.”

“Babe, let’s swap seats,” Spike suggested with a smirk. “You can settle into my lap. We can shoot her dirty looks in unison.”

“That does sound like a better way to pass the time…” She smiled up at Spike until Giles cleared his throat. “But apparently Mr. Subtlety over there doesn’t approve of us canoodling in his chair.”

“Remember the time we spent snogging each other’s brains out in his recliner during our fluke engagement?”

Buffy reluctantly bobbed her head as Spike tickled her earlobe with a gentle touch from his pointer finger.

“But it wasn’t just a fluke, was it, love?”

“Well, my Spike-awareness was kicked into overdrive after that. I thought I was a pro at ignoring it, and you, until, oh…circa fours days ago.”

“And here you told everyone you couldn’t recall a lick of what happened during Willow’s spell gone wrong. You lied.”

“I did,” Buffy answered with a quiet laugh. “I tried to forget, I wanted to…”

“Yet you found me unforgettable.”

“Do you have to rub it in?” Lifting her chin, she met Spike halfway for a string of shallow, passionate kisses. In no time, one of his hands was caressing her through her tank top, and she was moving to him, offering him a clear path to the fullest part of her breasts. Once he gave her tender squeeze, Buffy let out a moan, and simultaneously Giles’ elbow collided with the metal filing cabinet.

“Sorry, Giles. I’m sorry. Sometimes… Lately I’ve been getting carried away.” Forcing a laugh, she squeezed Spike’s hand before pushing it aside.

“Perhaps it isn’t just Lydia who’s in need of a restraining order,” Giles remarked from his corner. “Spike, congratulations, you’ve become quite the ladies’ man.”

“It isn’t a condition that’s developed overnight, mate.”

“Is that right? I wonder if there’s a chapter dedicated to your womanizing in Lydia’s thesis.”

“Hang on, how’d we get from ladies’ man to womanizer?” Buffy spoke up. “He’s a flirt. He can be annoyingly charming when he wants to be, but that doesn’t mean he--.”

“I don’t poke my head up every skirt I see.”

“And he could try, but then I’d kill him,” Buffy declared dryly. “Spike isn’t your typical vampire, and you know that. He isn’t even a typical guy. He’s been around for a very very long time and for the majority of his life, the only skirt he’s chased has belonged to crazy Drusilla. He loved and took care of that loony for, like, over a century. And, did I mention she was insane?”

“She was bat-shit mad most days,” Spike agreed. “Entire decades were worse than others.”

“But he stayed, loyal and dedicated until she ran off with a disgusting snot demon.”

“It was a fungus demon, then a chaos demon, actually.”

“Well, that doesn’t make them—or her—any less nasty,” Buffy insisted. “And for her to leave you for anything fungus related? God, Dru’s a freaking psycho!”

“Sweet, I think you’re getting yourself a bit sidetracked.” Spike sang the words quietly, giving her hair an affectionate tug.

“I was just going to tell Giles that he shouldn’t be straining for a logical reason or even a logical excuse for why we’re together. Instead, he should be learning how to deal. I’m not under a spell, I haven’t been brainwashed, and I’m not a victim of your irresistible womanizing--.”

“You sure about that last part, baby?”

“Hush. You’re not helping,” Buffy said, giving Spike’s leg a swat. “I wanted to say this stuff before, but Travers interrupted me. I probably wouldn’t have been that tough on him, but he embarrassed me and ticked me off, and then when he didn’t actually know anything? He’s lucky he’s old or I would’ve hit him.”

“You know, I’ve been listening to every word said out there, and I think you impressed the wrinkly sod.”

“You can’t be serious. Spike, you’re just saying that.”

“He hasn’t said one ugly word about you thus far.”

“Giles, why do you think that is?” Buffy asked. “Why do you think he even agreed to my terms in the first place, without putting up a fight?”

“Because you made him look like a giant idiot-knob,” Spike offered with a chuckle.

“Yes, but besides that…” Giles began, rolling his eyes. “Your handling of the situation was exceptional, Buffy. You acted like an adult, so he treated you like one. Your knowledge and power exceeded his. I actually agree with Spike on this; your self-assertiveness took him by surprise. I’m sure you impressed him. You certainly impressed me.”

“Aww. Giles, thank you,” Buffy said, her voice warm.

“Bet he’s just saying that ‘cause you got him retroactive pay.”

“And you’re still not helping,” she mumbled, giving Spike another light slap. Then her attention went back to Giles. “Do you think it’d be immature of me if I gave Angel another call? Just to check on him? No offense, but I really don’t want to be stuck in here all day waiting for a phone call. It’s Saturday, the weather’s nice, and Spike and I--.”

“You have plans. You’d like to be alone. It may be hard for you to believe this, but spending my Saturday in a sodden box while you slobber and hang on Spike is not--.”

“Giles! I’m not—I’m not slobbering and I’m not hanging,’” she insisted, ignoring the blush that was floating up to the surface of her cheeks. “I’m…Spike, help me out here. You’re better with words than me. I’m just sitting here, talking and um, sitting…”

“Buffy, will you please hear me out?” Giles continued, slightly raising his voice. “Who or what Spike is doesn’t matter. Yes, he’s a villain with a device that stops him from hurting humans. Yes, I’m truly glad he’s willing to work with us instead of against us. However, my biggest worry as of right now is how lost you are to him. I’d be equally concerned if he weren’t a vampire. You’re going through a lot of stress: there’s Glory, your mother’s illness, and your schooling. You shouldn’t rush into a relationship when you’re so vulnerable. You need someone to lean on, but I just don’t believe Spike’s the best person for you to turn to--.”

“Pet, you shouldn’t have to listen to this drivel.”

“It’s okay,” she answered. “There’s no harm in listening. I told him already he couldn’t change my mind. But he has a point. We have been moving fast.”

“Too fast?” Spike asked, raising a brow.

“You’re impatient. I’ve been impatient. It only makes sense that we aren’t moseying along, but I think we’re moving at a pace that works for us,” Buffy shrugged. “And as for me leaning on you…”

“You haven’t. Not nearly as much as you should. My girl’s got control issues. She needs to let go. She needs to share her burdens.”

“She’s working on it,” she replied with a shy, closed-lipped smile.

“Buffy,” Giles sighed. “I said this before; I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Is that right?” Spike replied with a snort. “Is that why you had her crying her eyes out yesterday?”

“Okay. Hold on, we don’t have to bring that up.” She looked down, running a finger over where Spike’s blood had healed the cut on her hand. “So I got a little weepy. It was my fault. My feelings were sticking out. I was feeling guilty and I…I might’ve been a teensy bit hung-over… But, at least you two can agree on one thing. You both care about me. You both want to see me happy. Well, just so you know, you two accepting each other would make me ecstatic. I hate having to defend my feelings. I hate it so much, and I know this is only the beginning. Once the gang finds out, and if we do go to LA… If I had one less person to convince that I’m not naïve or stupid or just plain crazy for being with Spike, I’d be grateful.”

“I already gave her my word. The ball’s in your court, Rupes. You think we can stop the pissing match and get along for her sake?”

“I’m not above making an effort--.”

“Great. Glad to hear it. Now, if you’ll kindly put a lid on the accusations and suspicion you’ve been tossing my way, we can get on with life. Buffy, I believe you were about to ring Angel again?”

“Yeah, I was.” Reaching for the phone, she looked at Giles briefly and received a short nod of approval. “I’ll try the hotel. Angel never has a phone on him. He and technology aren’t mixy things. But Cordelia or Wesley should be around.”

After dialing, she drummed her fingers on Spike’s knee.

As if I’m slobbering and hanging on Spike… Please, she thought with an eye roll as the phone rang. What’s so wrong with wanting to be around your boyfriend?

I’m probably just feeling a tad cavewomanly because of Lydia the Creep.

Besides, what’s really so wrong with touching my new guy every chance I get? Hoping that he’ll kiss me every time I turn around…?

“Has someone picked up? Love, why are you making that face?”

“What face? I’m making a face? I’m not. I’m just—hey! Cordelia, hey! Have you heard from Angel yet?”

Turning from Spike, she held the back of her hand to her forehead and then to the warm sides of her face. “It’s been awhile since we heard from him. We hoped he was alright and that he hadn’t—oh. Oh, you’re kidding. How long ago did he leave? Okay. I just don’t understand why he’d do that, but okay. Okay. I don’t know yet. I’ll get back to you. Yeah, thanks. Bye.”

“What has Peaches done now? Something heroic, I wager.” The tone of Spike’s voice seemed disinterested, but Buffy knew he felt differently from the resentment in his eyes.

“Angel learned of the location of a God-weapon and took off after it. He’ll bring it to us.”

“Look at that, he’s just as convenient as the bloody pizza delivery boy.”

“Did he tell anyone where he was headed?” Giles asked.

“He gave Cordy some vague cryptic information,” Buffy answered. “He’s somewhere in the state. In the desert.”

“So, do you think the Powers that Be gave our golden boy a magic umbrella to keep him protected from the sun? Last I knew, all vampires, even ones as courageous as Angel, can’t stand in a Californian desert without becoming more than just a little crispy around the edges.”

“I don’t know,” Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know what we should do either. We can’t go gallivanting in the desert when we don’t know where to go or what to look for, but then I’m not liking the idea of just waiting around while Angel does my job either.”

“There are other ways of contacting him, ways that don’t involve cellular phones,” Giles began. “Perhaps Willow and Tara could conjure up a sort of tracking device or an alternate way to communicate with him. But of course, with the Powers that Be involved, I wouldn’t be surprised if he can’t be reached even with the aid of witchcraft. He could be anywhere, on any plane--.”

“I say we wait it out while he plays Rambo. He’s just bringing you a weapon, Slayer. I doubt he’ll bring Glory’s head to you on a silver platter.”

“Could you imagine if he did? God, I’d still chew him out. At times, he can be so…”

“Controlling? Arrogant? Not a team player?”

“Down, boy,” Buffy said, fighting back a smile as she patted Spike’s thigh. “There are a lot of reasons why Angel and I don’t help each other too often, but it’s mostly a territorial thing. I protect my town; he protects his. I guess you could call it a friendly rivalry, but I’ll remind you it is heavy on the friendly, Spike.”

“He went rogue. He should’ve called.”

“That’s true and I’ll tell him that when I see him.”

“Or will it be once you find him? We just spoke about you letting go, pet. Sure, he’s a jerk for running off, but why should you chase after him? He’s a big boy. You did ask for his help--.”

“I didn’t ask for him to be a hero. Not when this is my mission.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t you have seen it coming? Isn’t he your go-to knight in shining…fucking hair gel?”

Locking eyes with Spike, Buffy licked her lips. “You’re really going to bring up Angel’s gel when you slather gunk in your hair every morning?”

“Don’t go after him,” Spike spoke quietly. “I won’t be able to go with you.”

“It’s not like I need a chaperone,” Buffy teased, matching the tone of his voice.

“Stay. Please.”

Spike’s plea and steely gaze made her heart speed up. “You really think that’s the best idea?”

“He can take care of himself.”

“But, Spike….”

“If no one’s heard from him by nightfall, we’ll go out there. I swear it. We’ll search high and low for the miserable sod.”

“Giles?”

He jumped a little, startled by Buffy saying his name. Once again, he bumped against the metal cabinet. “Oh. I thought you’d forgotten I was here. What can I do for you? Would you like my opinion on something?”

“I want Willow and Tara on stand-by. If we haven’t heard from Angel by tonight, we’re going after him. Until then, Spike and I are taking off.”

“What about the Council?”

“They’ll wait just like the rest of us.” Standing, Buffy tugged on her tank top. “My phone is fully charged. The ring is set to blare. If you need me, call. Angel and his people have my number. If he calls me, you’ll be the first to know about it. Now, if you don’t mind…” Her fingers circled around Spike’s wrist. He was on his feet in an instant. “We’re going to sneak out the back way.”

“Actually, eh, I do mind--.” Giles began.

“Just tell them everything I told you. And we’ll just go down your conveniently located rear staircase and leave through the basement with its handy entrance to Sunnydale’s underground tunnel system.”

“Buffy--.”

“Thanks so much for handling Quentin and the Watcherettes for us. I owe you a million. And thank you for the donuts. And for being somewhat understanding. Our talk was…nice and productive. You agreeing to cooperate with Spike…it really means a lot.”

“You’re welcome. Please remember, Buffy, I only have your best interest in mind.”

“I know, and hopefully we’ll agree on what my best interests are at some point,” she responded, hooking her arm around Spike’s. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Right,” her Watcher mumbled, left to struggle out of the moving box on his own.
***