Chapter One

Buffy Summers, well-respected psychology lecturer at the Sunnydale Campus of the University of California, hung up the phone with a satisfying slam.

“This is ridiculous,” she exclaimed to her empty office. “What does she expect? I’m not Superwoman.”

Flipping through her diary, Buffy wondered how she would manage to fit another Masters student into her schedule. She was already supervising three other Masters students, two PhDs and was teaching four large undergraduate classes. On top of all that, were the research papers she had to write up.

“There goes that bit of social life I was hoping to squeeze in,” she muttered irritably.

Grabbing her empty coffee cup she strode down the long corridor to the staff lounge. The pot in the coffee machine was empty. With an unladylike curse she banged her cup down on the bench and set about making a fresh pot. Thanks to her mood she did so with more vigour than finesse, only to end up knocking her coffee mug to the floor.

“Damn it!” With a groan of frustration she bent down to pick up the broken remnants of her favourite mug.

“Would you like a hand there, love?”

Startled by the voice behind her she tried to look around, overbalanced and fell on her butt. The voice chuckled, adding to her frustration. Denim-clad legs appeared before her, along with one outstretched hand.

Rolling her eyes at her own clumsiness, Buffy allowed him to help her up. “Thank you,” she said crisply as she straightened her tailored skirt and silk blouse. “I didn’t realise there was anyone in here.”

Now that she was slightly less dishevelled, she turned to look at her would be rescuer and found herself looking into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Full lips and high, sharp cheekbones were framed by shockingly blonde hair.

Outwardly, Buffy managed a simple, polite smile, a slight flush colouring her cheeks. On the inside, however, her long-deprived hormones were rioting at the sight of all that mouth-watering maleness. Absently, she noticed his mouth was moving and shook her head as she realised he was speaking.

“…didn’t mean to startle you.”

Clearing her throat, she returned her attention to the coffee machine to keep from staring at him. “Don’t worry about it. I just wasn’t paying attention.”

He bent down to retrieve the remains of her mug and drop them into a nearby bin.

“Thanks,” she murmured as she grabbed one of the ceramic white mugs that sat on the shelf above her and filled it with fresh, steaming coffee.

“You did seem a little preoccupied,” he observed. “Nothing too bad I hope.”

“It’s nothing,” she replied, shaking her head. “I just had another student foisted onto me is all. I’m already having trouble finding time for my existing students.”

“Oh.” He looked a little awkward and she felt bad for badmouthing her students. After all, if it wasn't for them she'd be out of a job.

Silence filled the room as they stared at one another. She knew she should go. She had a ton of work waiting on her desk. “I haven’t seen you before, are you just starting work here?” she asked, unable to tear herself away.

“No,” he replied with a smile. “I’m a student actually. I just had a meeting with Professor Evans and was finishing up some notes before I left.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Spike by the way.”

She hoped he didn't notice the disappointment that she was sure clouded her face. He's a student. Translation: Off limits. Damn.

“Buffy Summers,” she said as she shook his hand. His grip was firm, his skin warm and she felt her heart rate speed up as a tingling sensation travelled up her arm. Get a grip, Buffy.

“You’re Professor Summers?” He seemed surprised.

“That’s right. Why?”

He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “Nothing. I just…I’ve read your work on relationship satisfaction. I really enjoyed it.”

Buffy blushed at his compliment. “Oh, umm, thank you.” I'm blushing now? What am I twelve? Since when do I blush?

“I should get back to work.” Clearing her throat self-consciously, she picked up her coffee cup and forced herself to head towards the door. She turned to drink in the delectable sight of him one more time and found he was still watching her. Suddenly she felt naked. “It was nice meeting you, Spike,” she forced out, with a bright smile. “Good luck with your studies.” Then, in what she considered to be a very brave manner, she practically ran out of the room and bolted down the corridor to her office. Oh boy. I know who’ll be starring in my fantasies tonight.

**********

Later that day, Buffy was just adding a few final touches to her lecture notes for the following afternoon when there was a knock on the door.

“Come on in,” she called, wishing her unwanted new Masters student didn’t have to be so punctual. Now remember, Buffy, it’s not his fault he was assigned to you against your will. So be nice.

Hearing the door open and close behind her she murmured, “Take a seat and I’ll be with you in just a second.” Her fingers rushed across the keys as she completed her last paragraph before saving the document and, with a sense of satisfaction, closed down the program.

“Okay,” she said with a deep breath. “Now, you must be William Giles.” Swivelling in her chair she turned to her new student – and nearly choked. “Spike!”

His head snapped up and she found herself blushing yet again as she realised he’d been checking out her legs.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I thought you were…”

“I am,” he said, as if suddenly finding his voice. “William Giles at your service. But, most people call me Spike.”

A distinct feeling of dread curled its way through Buffy's stomach. “And you are my…”

“…new Masters student,” he finished for her. “I know I should have said something when we met earlier but…well, you seemed to be so...well...put out about being lumped with me. I didn’t want our relationship to start off on the wrong foot.”

She just gaped at him. “Our relationship?”

“Yeah. You know, you supervisor, me student. That is why I’m here.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Raking her fingers through her hair she tried to get her racing pulse back under control.

He smiled. She melted.

“Oh, and this is for you.” He reached into his bag and plopped a brand new coffee mug on her desk. It had flying pigs on it. It was the size of a soup bowl. She loved it.

Buffy stared from him to the mug and back again. Only two words came to her befuddled mind. Holy crap!

Chapter Two

“I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t want to work with you, William–”

“It’s okay.” He held up a hand to halt her apology speech. “I understand, really. This was kind of last minute and I know that you’re already swamped. And please, call me Spike. Only my father calls me William.”

“Okay, Spike.” She forced a smile, hoping he couldn’t see how freaked out she was. Her pulse was racing and she was sure her heart was about to leap out of her chest. “How about you tell me how you came to be here.”

He nodded eagerly. “Well, I’m 28 years old. I did my undergrad degree in Psychology a few years ago, then I worked in relationship counselling for a few years before deciding I wanted to get my Masters.”

“Did you enjoy relationship counselling?” she asked, curiosity overtaking her hormones for a moment.

“Yeah, it was fantastic,” he replied. “Actually, I'm still working part-time, to pay the bills.”

She nodded. “There aren’t a lot of men working in that area.”

“Exactly,” Spike responded enthusiastically. “That’s what was so great about it. Guys hate having to talk about their intimate relationships, especially with some chick they don’t even know.”

As he spoke, Buffy could see his passion for his work showing through loud and clear. It was the sexiest thing she’d seen in years. Crappity crap crap crap!

“So, when they come in and realise they’ll be talking to a bloke, I find it helps them relax a bit. I have the training to connect with the women, and the balls to relate to the men.”

Buffy couldn’t help but laugh at his choice of words. “That’s one way to put it.”

Spike’s gaze dropped immediately to her smiling lips, and lingered there. Buffy found her breath hitching again. What would it be like to kiss him. Just once.

He ran one hand through his hair, causing little curls to form at the ends. “I’m sorry. I should be watching my language.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “I like a man that can be blunt.” The words were out before she realised what she was saying and, eyes widening, she quickly tried to back track. “I didn’t mean…I just…”

“Yeah, of course,” he rushed to say, seeming just as uncomfortable as she was. “So anyway, I had arranged a supervisor, but she was offered a job in Japan and took off with very little notice. She won’t have time to supervise me long distance so I needed a new supervisor right quick.”

“And since you’re study is in my area, Professor Brooks assigned you to me,” she finished for him.

“Actually, I kind of asked for you.” Spike looked chagrined, before shrugging self-consciously. “You are the best.”

“Well, that’s certainly true,” she agreed with an exaggerated flick of her hair.

He laughed in amusement before turning serious once more. “It is actually true. You’re getting to be well-known in relationship psychology, pet. And highly thought of.”

Pet. That was the only word that stuck in her head. She gave herself a mental slap. Come on, you can’t go weak-kneed every time you he uses a term of endearment on you. He probably calls everyone pet. “Thank you, Spike. That’s very kind of you to say.”

Their gazes locked for a moment and Buffy felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “You're welcome, love.”

Love. Damn it, there he goes again. “So, Spike, why don’t you tell me about your thesis.”

“I have the proposal here.” He rifled through some folders in his bag for a moment before handing her a small stack of pages. “I’m basically looking at how big a role sexual satisfaction takes in the continuance of a dating relationship. In other words, if the sexual relationship isn’t satisfactory to both people within a certain amount of time, is the relationship as a whole pretty much doomed, or do other factors such as ‘things in common’ and ‘fun experienced within the relationship' enough to hold two people together long enough for them to work out the sex stuff.”

Buffy almost choked on her tongue. Sex. She was going to spend the next year talking to Spike about sex on a weekly basis. This is just getting worse by the sex- I mean second.

“Okay, then.” She paused to clear her throat when she heard the husky quality of her own voice. “Before we start. Can I ask what got you interested in this topic?”

“Well, sex is an important part of any intimate relationship. I often find with my clients that sexual intimacy is one of the first things to go when there are problems. I guess I wanted to see if the importance of a satisfactory sexual relationship starts right from the beginning of the relationship. Is bad sex enough to end a relationship in and of itself?“

Buffy smirked. “That sounds like a very well-rehearsed answer.”

Spike cringed. “Well it did take me a whole morning to prepare it.” He shrugged then, gesturing in the air with his hands. “The truth is, I had to study something. This was the most interesting idea that occurred to me.”

“So, basically you took a stab in the dark and ended up with sex?”

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “In a roundabout way, yeah.”

“Don't worry,” she assured him. “I've done studies that included questions on sex and sexuality a few times now. I understand the fear that people will think you're a pervert or something.”

He laughed, but she could see the subtle signs of relief in his posture. “It does tend to stop all conversation in its tracks when people ask what I'm studying,” he said. “Thank you, for not judging me.”

Buffy couldn't help but smile as his sincerity. “Hey, it's all in the name of research. Right?” When she got the urge to flutter her eyelashes at him, she covered by looking down at his proposal. “Let's make a start then, shall we? A few things come to mind right off…”

An hour later they’d discussed a large number of issues that would effect the study Spike would conduct as the basis for his Masters thesis. They’d talked about whether or not to include homosexual relationships as well as heterosexual; what the cut off would be for the length of relationship he would include; what questionnaires he could look at using; where he would find participants for his study; what definitions he would use for ‘relationship’ and ‘sex’, and the list went on.

By the time they were done Buffy was exhausted…and horny as hell. Sometime during their discussion, Spike had taken off his jacket and she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he was as affected by the topic of conversation as much as she was. It didn’t help that his t-shirt was just tight enough to better reveal his muscled arms and firm masculine chest. She resisted taking off her own jacket, and her shirt, and her bra. Damn wayward thoughts.

“Okay then, Spike. That should do for today.” Gathering up a few papers that they had scattered around the desk, Buffy handed them back to him. “You get started on your literature searches this week and work on developing some solid hypotheses. Then, I'll see you back here next week.” She grabbed her diary and flipped it open. “What days are you available?”

Instead of answering her, Spike leaned forward to scan the pages of her diary. Normally such a move would have annoyed her – after all her schedule was nobody's business but her own – but then she caught a whiff of his cologne and her eyes slid closed in appreciation. When she opened them again she found herself staring at his profile. His left cheek was just inches away from her lips and she could just see the shadow of stubble sweeping over his jaw. She knew it would abrade her lips just slightly if they were to brush against him.

“How about I buy you lunch next Wednesday?”

Buffy jerked away, shocked at how close she'd been to making a complete fool of herself. She looked down to see him pointing at a small, blank section of the diary.

“To say thank you for taking me on,” he added.

She shook her head. “There's no need for you to buy me lunch. I don't have any problem with ... err ... taking you on.” She saw his amusement at her stumbled words and quickly went about pencilling him into her diary. “However, I don't see any reason not to eat while we work, so lunch is fine.” At least in a public place there won't be any chance of me jumping you. “How about the café under the library at midday?”

“Great. I'll see you then.” He grabbed his bag and stood up. “Professor Summers, thanks for everything.”

As the door clicked closed behind him, Buffy slumped back into her chair. This is going to be the year from hell.

Chapter 3

Spike swept her desk clear with one arm before pressing her down onto the cool surface. Piles of paper and books fell to the floor with a loud crash. “Sorry, love,” he muttered against her lips. “I just can't help myself. I have to have you.” His mouth descended on hers, his hands running riot over her body. “Here and now.”

“Buffy! Earth to Buffy!”

Snapping out of the indecent thoughts she'd been indulging in, Buffy lifted her head to find her best, and oldest, friend smiling down at her.

“Hey, Willow.” She sprang from the table to give the woman a warm hug. “Sorry, I was just ... umm ... inspecting my vodka and orange. For floaties.”

“I can see that,” Willow replied as they settled themselves back down into the large booth. Buffy had picked it because it was right next to the pub's large dance floor and she was in the mood to cut loose tonight.

“What exactly were you expecting to find in there?” Willow asked. “A conga line of drunken ants?”

“Don't be silly, Willow,” Buffy scoffed. “Ants can't walk on liquid. They'd have to be drunken synchronised swimming ants.”

Willow laughed. “Of course, you'll have to forgive my lapse in logic.”

Thankful to have diverted any possible questions about her amorous stupor, Buffy finished the offending drink with a long swallow. “So, where’s Faith?”

“The bartender was cute,” Willow replied, as if that explained everything. And indeed it did.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy shook her head with a grin. “Same old Faith.”

“Tell me about it,” Willow agreed. “So how are things going with you? Are you still as overworked as always? It seems like forever since we've seen you.”

“I know. At the moment my life consists of one never ending pile of work. In fact, I now have yet another Masters students to deal with.” Buffy was thankful for the pub's dim lighting as she felt a tell-tale flush creep up her cheeks.

“You are kidding me? How many do they think you can handle?”

Buffy shrugged. “Beats me?”

“The student isn't a complete loser, is she?” Willow asked, cringing in sympathy.

“He, actually. And no, he's definitely not a loser.” Buffy tried not to think about bright blue eyes and cheekbones that could slice through butter. “It’s not that. He’s actually very bright. He’ll do well.”

“Oh, no.”

Looking up at Willow's doomed tone, Buffy's brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“He’s hot, isn’t he?”

Buffy balked, was she that obvious? “Willow! W-What sort of a question is that?”

“You're stuttering!” An accusing finger appeared in front of her nose. “And I know that look on your face, missy. You went all gooey-eyed.”

She snorted, as if that was the craziest thing she'd ever heard. “T-That’s ridiculous. The man is a student. End of story.”

Gasping, Willow slapped her hand over her mouth for a moment, before whispering, “Are you telling me he’s so hot that you have to remind yourself he’s a student?”

“Okay, okay.” Buffy dropped her head in her hands with a loud groan. “He’s completely drool worthy, all right? I practically creamed my pants just being in the same room with him.”

“Hell B, when do we meet him?”

Buffy’s head snapped up to find Faith grinning down at her, three shots of God-only-knew-what balanced precariously in her hands.

“Hello, Faith. And no meeting. Not ever. He’s a student and that’s all he’ll ever be.” Grabbing one of the shot glasses from Faith, Buffy held it up in a toast. “This is the only night I’ll have to myself this week and I intend to enjoy it. Here’s to fun, ladies.”

“To fun!” Faith and Willow echoed with great enthusiasm before all three women tilted their heads back and drank.

As the liquid burned a path down her throat, Buffy shook her head to try to dispel the fire. Damn right, she was going to have some fun tonight.

**********

Spike watched Buffy from across the room as she finished making her toast and downed the contents of her shot glass in one gulp. Screwing up her face at the taste, she shook her head violently and he smiled at how adorable she looked.

“Spike, man. Where the hell are you?”

A hand waved in front of his face and he was forced to drag his gaze away from the captivating blonde. “Were you saying something?”

Xander just rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I was asking if you actually know the blonde you’ve been staring at since we got here or if this is just random ogling.”

Bothered by the fact that he’d been caught staring, Spike shrugged. “Yeah, I know her. And I was not ogling.”

“Whatever you say, my friend,” Xander replied in a disbelieving tone. “Who is she?”

Doing his best to look casual, while actively not staring at the woman in question, Spike answered, “She’s Professor Buffy Summers. My new supervisor.”

Spike frowned when Xander threw back his head and guffawed loudly. “Little Miss Hotty is your supervisor?” he managed to spit out before another peel of laughter burst out of him.

Clearing his throat, Spike took a long pull on his beer. “Stop laughing, you git,” he muttered irritably.

That comment only made Xander laugh more. “Oh Spike, man,” he gasped, when at last he began to calm down. “You are in such deep shit.”

Spike groaned, dropping his head onto the table as he finally admitted defeat. “Don’t I know it.”

**********

Buffy emptied her glass in ten seconds flat and slammed the empty glass down on the table.

“You okay there, Buffy?” Willow asked, a bemused expression on her face.

“I’m fan-fucking-tastic,” she replied with a giggle. “This is exactly what I needed tonight.”

“And now what you need is to shake your booty, girl,” Faith interrupted with a sly smile. “Come on Buffy. You know you want to dance.”

Buffy laughed with abandon as she slid out of the booth after her friend. “You are so right.”

Taking Faith’s hand Buffy followed her onto the dance floor, ready and willing to give herself over to the music. It was loud and fast with plenty of bass, just the way Buffy liked it. Immediately she began to move to the rhythm, welcoming the heavy beat that pulsed through the floor and upward into her body. She grinned as Faith moved in front of her, matching her movements so that they swayed together. Before long they were surrounded by a group of hopeful men that would be allowed to look but not to touch. This night was for them, and Buffy was overwhelmed by the feeling of complete freedom.

**********

Spike thought he would burst as he watched Buffy on the dance floor. His eyes were addicted to the way her body moved with a primal sensuality. His fingers itched to touch her sultry curves, to bury his painfully hard cock in her luscious body.

Glancing at the bar, he saw that Xander was still occupied getting the next round of beers and was grateful that his pathetic pining was going unnoticed. Quickly he downed the last of his drink, hoping the alcohol would dull the lust and frustration that was roaring through his body.

Buffy and her friend had men circling them like vultures. Even as he mentally derided them for their crude attempts to win a dance with either of the two women, he seethed with envy that he couldn’t join them in the chase. Buffy – no, Professor Summers – was his supervisor, nothing more. He needed her to finish his thesis and graduate from his masters program. He couldn’t allow anything to interfere with that.

“I’ll be back,” he yelled to Xander as the other man returned with their drinks, then he disappeared down the corridor that led to the bathrooms. Cold water, that’s what he needed.

**********

A song that Buffy didn’t know began to play and she decided to take the opportunity to make a quick trip to the bathroom. Gesturing to Faith, who was still enjoying the attention of the surrounding males, Buffy headed for the back of the pub. She swayed her hips seductively as she walked. It was nights like this that kept her sane. Going out with her friends and forgetting about the rest of the world. For just a few hours, she could pretend there was nothing more to her life than dancing and enjoying herself.

She had just come out of the bathroom and was heading back down the corridor when she heard someone behind her call her name.

“Professor Summers.”

Turning around, Buffy froze when she saw Spike gazing down at her with those brilliant blue eyes – now wide with surprise. Oh shit.

“Spike,” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged casually. “Just out for a drink with a friend.” Inwardly, he was kicking himself for alerting her to his presence, but somehow when he saw her sauntering down the short corridor he couldn’t seem to resist talking to her. “How about yourself?”

“The same,” she replied. She was smiling, but to Spike it seemed a little forced. “So…umm…how long have you been here?”

Suddenly understanding her dilemma he allowed a teasing grin to form on his lips. “A while now.”

Her face fell and he knew what she must be thinking. Or, more specifically, what she thought he was thinking. “Relax love,” he said casually. “You’re a beautiful woman enjoying a night on the town. You have nothing to be worried about.”

A relieved smile spread across her face and she seemed to relax a little. “I know, I just…I come here because this isn’t a student bar. Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever run into a student here. I guess it just threw me for a second.”

“Oh,” Spike said, disappointed that she saw him as just another student. When they'd been working together on his proposal, he'd been sure that she was attracted to him, or at least had enjoyed his company. Now, after all the time he's spent this week lusting after her, the idea that she hadn't paid him another thought once he'd left her office was less than thrilling. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your evening.”

She frowned. “No, Spike, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay, really. I’ll just leave you to it.” He held out his hand in an attempt to seem professional. The shiver that went through him when she shook it was anything but. “It was good to see you, Professor Summers.”

“Please, call me Buffy. I feel like I should be working when I hear the word 'professor'.”

Spike grinned. “Okay. Buffy it is then.”

He walked past her, making sure he was close enough to get a whiff of her perfume, and felt himself harden at the musky fragrance. “Goodnight, Buffy,” he murmured in a low voice.

Her intake of breath made him wonder if maybe he hadn't been mistaken. If maybe she was as affected by him as he was by her, after all. Don’t be ridiculous, he reprimanded himself as he returned to his table. She’s probably just offended that you invaded her personal space without permission. Jackass!

**********

“Holy crap!”

Willow and Faith broke their conversation to stare at her in surprise as she dropped into the booth beside them. “Buffy, what’s wrong?”

“The hot student we were talking about before? He’s here!” Buffy stared at her friends with panic-stricken eyes.

“Oh, really?” Willow was obviously more excited than horrified. “Where is he?”

Trying to look surreptitiously around the room, Buffy spied him sitting in at a corner table with a dark-haired man. She quickly pointed Spike out to them.

“Damn, B!” Faith exclaimed. “If you don’t have sex with that man, then I will.”

“Oh my God, Buffy,” Willow added with a giggle. “You really weren’t kidding, were you? He’s gorgeous.”

Buffy sighed as she plopped her head onto the palm of her hand. “I know.”

Willow leaned forward, giggling excitedly. “What's his name?”

“God,” Faith pitched in with a chuckle. “As in 'oh my ... oh my'.”

Buffy and Willow laughed, clapping Faith's moan-filled performance, to which the grinning woman did a mock bow.

“Does he know that you’re attracted to him?” Willow asked.

“I don’t know. I hope not. God, how embarrassing would that be.”

“Only if you get caught screwing in your office.”

“Faith!” The other two women yelled in unison.

“What?” Faith asked with feigned ignorance.

Willow turned back to Buffy. “Is he attracted to you?”

A jolt of heat shot through Buffy at even the thought. “I don't know,” she replied, squirming a little in her chair. “I think ... maybe.”

“That’s it,” Willow declared, slapping her palms down on the table as she stood up. “I’m getting us another round of drinks.”

As soon as she was gone, Faith turned to Buffy again. “Come on, B. You really think he’d turn you down?”

“It doesn’t matter if he’d turn me down or not. He’s a student!” Buffy argued vehemently.

“So what? It’s not like he’s under age. He’s got to be at least twenty-five.”

“Twenty-eight,” Buffy corrected her. “Just two years younger than me.”

“There you go,” Faith replied, relaxing back in her seat. “What’s the big deal if you two get your naughty on?”

“The big deal? Faith, I could get fired for dating a student.”

Faith jumped on that point with gusto. “But he’s not your student. He’s your supervisee.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “True. Okay, so maybe I wouldn't get fired. But it would definitely make me the laughing stock of the department. Do you know how hard I've had to work to become a professor at my age?” Now that she was on a roll, Buffy allowed the lecture she'd been giving herself all week to spill out in a flood of negativity. “Not to mention the fact that a scandal like that could ruin Spike’s career before it even begins. The world of mental health is way too small, especially in a town like Sunnydale.”

“So, don’t get caught,” Faith stated bluntly.

Buffy groaned. “You are so not helping.”

Faith held her hands up in defence. “All right. We won’t talk about it any more.” She grinned mischievously. “Let’s dance instead. You can work off some of that frustration.”

She shook her head. “Oh no. I can’t dance knowing he’s here watching. It’s too freaky, and … kind of erotic.” Sneaking a glance in his direction, Buffy frowned at the empty table she now saw across the room. “Where'd he go?”

“Umm, guys?”

Buffy and Faith looked up to see Willow standing beside them with a sheepish expression on her face. She stepped aside to reveal a darked-haired man standing behind her, with Spike right beside him.

“This is Xander,” Willow stated nervously. “We just met at the bar and he asked if he and his friend could join us.” She forced a laugh. “What do you know, Buffy? It turns out you know Xander’s friend, Spike.”

Buffy’s eyes moved from the rambling Willow, to a cheerful Xander, and finally to a chagrined Spike. And the night just keeps getting better and better.

Chapter Four

Buffy tried to smile up at Spike to show that she wasn't upset about his sudden appearance at her table. She had the feeling it came across more as a grimace.

“So, your name is Spike?” Faith drawled as she stood up. “Interesting.”

“Not really,” Spike replied with a wry smile as he held out his hand.

“I'm Faith.” She shook his hand, then pulled him forward a few steps and nudged him toward the booth where Buffy was busy trying to disappear into the wall. “Have a seat.”

As soon as he sat down she shimmied in beside him, forcing him to move further along the seat until he came dangerously close to being pressed against Buffy's side. “Wow,” Faith said, grinning over the table at Willow and Xander. “It's getting very cosy in here, isn't it?”

“It is at that,” Spike muttered under his breath.

“So, Xander,” Faith continued, effectively turning all attention away from the couple beside her, “why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

Buffy snorted. Could Faith be any more obvious? She may as well have handed Spike a fifty and told them to get a room.

She glanced at Spike out of the corner of her eye and found him focusing intently on the conversation that had sprung up between the other three occupants of the table. He looked a little tense, his arm tucked into his side, as if he was desperately trying not to enter her personal space. Or pay any attention to her at all for that matter. And what was with that? It wasn’t like she was going to bite ... much. The thought made her giggle.

He turned to look at her, an unspoken question in his eyes, and she stopped breathing. He was so close. And she was so tipsy. Oh please, you past tipsy two vodkas ago.

“Sorry,” she told him. “I think I may have over-imbibed.”

He grinned. “Well, love, I figure if you can still get a word like 'imbibed' out without mangling it then you can't be too bad.”

She laughed. “I guess you’re right.”

He glanced around the table, as if he wanted to make sure that the others were still engaged in conversation, before he spoke again. “Look, Buffy, I'm really sorry about this. I had no idea that this is where we were headed until it was too late. I didn't mean to intrude on your evening – yet again.”

His voice was low and quiet, for her ears only. That, coupled with his nearness, gave his words a sense of intimacy that sent shivers running down her spine. She wanted to lean closer, to feel her thigh brush against his beneath the table. It would be so easy, seem so innocent. There wasn’t a lot of room at the table, after all. She could touch him, just this once, and get away with it.

Clearing her throat, she backed up a little further into the wall behind her. One touch. Yeah right, once touch that would end with her giving him a lap dance. Nice thinking, Buffy.

“Don’t worry about it. It's fine, really.” Her voice sounded strained, even to her own ears, and she took a sip of her drink in an effort to ease the tension. “Do you come here often?”

He shook his head. “Just on the odd occasion. I'm usually more of a quiet pub kind of man.”

Buffy grinned. “Does that mean I won't get to see you doin' your groove thang?”

“Not tonight, no,” he replied with a chuckle. “But please, don't let me stop you from heading out there.”

“No, no, no.” She shook her head vehemently. “I think I'm done with the dancing tonight.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning toward her as if about to impart some big secret. “I promise not to tell anyone what a vixen you are on the dance floor.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, remembering all too vividly the scene he would have witnessed earlier in the evening. He winked at her, a teasing smile on his face.

“Thank you,” she said, her breath coming a little heavier. “I wouldn't want anything to spoil my reputation as a boring professor.”

“Your reputation is impeccable, love.” He drained the last dregs of beer from his glass before turning to her again. “But it never occurred to me for a moment that you could ever be boring.”

Their gazes locked and Buffy could have sworn she saw something other than professional respect burning in those clear, blue eyes. “You’re right,” she said, unable to resist the urge to add a sultry edge to her voice. She bit her bottom lip, for good measure, and saw his eyes drop instantly to her mouth. Oh yeah, he wants me.

“Spike!”

“Huh? What?” Spike snapped his head around to look at Xander.

Xander just smirked. “Willow was just asking about your studies.”

“Right. Sorry, love,” he replied, sitting up straighter in his seat. Buffy almost laughed at his discomfort. “What did you want to know?”

“When do you graduate?” Willow asked.

“End of the year,” Spike replied. “Just have to do my thesis and then I’ll be all with the pomp and ceremony. Not to mention the funny hat.”

“That’s great. What’s your thesis topic?”

Buffy looked at Spike and saw him take a deep breath, as if preparing himself. Remembering the reactions he’d said he got when asked what he was studying, she jumped in just as he opened his mouth. “Spike’s examining some of the main factors that predict whether a new relationship lasts beyond the first major courting stages.” Four pairs of eyes turned to her in surprise. She gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s fascinating, really.”

“Uh-huh,” Faith said, looking unconvinced. “So what are these factors, exactly?”

Spike cleared his throat. “A number of things, like how much enjoyment each person experiences, how much they have in common, satisfaction with the level of intimacy, that sort of thing.”

Faith chuckled. “By intimacy you mean sex, right? Does the amount of ‘o’ predict whether or not people stay together?”

Buffy almost groaned. There was no way Faith was going to leave this one alone.

“Something like that, yeah.” Spike had a smile plastered on his face, but Buffy could see he was a little uncomfortable, waiting for the general reaction.

“That’s fantastic!” Faith clapped her hands together in delight. “I know I’m not one to stick around if a guy is a dud in the bedroom. I mean what’s the point, right?”

“Faith, there are other reasons to date someone,” Willow said, rolling her eyes. “Not everyone is a perfect match the first few times.”

“Yeah, but if the fire isn’t there then the relationship is going to fizzle eventually anyway. Why go through the drama?” She pointed a finger in Xander’s direction. “What do you think?”

Xander balked at the question. “Umm, I guess it depends on if you see potential there,” he said. “I mean, maybe the fire is there, and it just needs to be ... err ... tamed.”

As the debate continued, Spike looked at Buffy with a relieved grin. “Thanks for trying, love.”

“Any time,” she replied, smiling back at him. Then she gestured toward the others. “Though I don’t think you had anything to worry about here.”

He chuckled. “I guess not.”

Buffy was just starting to relax again when Faith turned back to them. “That must be a real trip, having to talk about sex for hours on end.” She leaned across the table a little before adding, “Hell, I’m already horny and we’ve only been talking about it for five minutes.”

A nervous laugh make its way around the table as everyone looked sideways at Buffy and Spike.

“Well, there’s a lot more to supervision than the topic itself,” Buffy said, hoping to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “There’s the ... err ... literature review, a-and the methodology. Making sure you have solid hypotheses. Isn’t that right, S-Spike?”

She looked at him to find him staring determinedly at the table top. “Yep.” He nodded. “Loads more.”

“Yeah, but, at the end of the day, it comes back to the sex. Right?” Faith seemed to be enjoying herself immensely, despite Buffy’s glare. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall of your office, B. It must be smouldering by the end of your meetings.” She fanned herself, as if just the thought was causing her to overheat.

“Nonense,” Spike said curtly. “Buffy is the consummate professional.” He looked at Xander and cocked his head toward the door. “I’m going to head outside for a smoke,” he said. “You wanna join me?”

“I thought you quit,” Xander replied with a frown.

“I did.” Spike all but pushed Faith out of the way in order to get past her and headed straight for the door.

“Excuse us, ladies,” Xander said, exiting the booth in a more dignified manner. “We’ll just be a few minutes.”

The moment the men were out of earshot, Buffy buried her face in her hands and Willow pounced on Faith. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?

“What?” she replied, laughing her head off. “At least you don’t have to wonder anymore, Buffy. He’s so hot for you it’s a wonder he could walk straight.”

Buffy glared at her. “You, missy, are officially off my Christmas card list.”

“What about Willow?” Faith asked. “At least I didn’t interrupt when you two were making some progress.”

Willow cringed. “I wasn’t sure what to do, Buffy,” she explained. “You said you didn’t want to get involved with him because of your job, so when I saw you two eyeing each other off, I figured I should do something.”

“We weren’t eyeing each other off,” Buffy argued.

Now both women were looking at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You were both about five seconds away from sliding under the table,” Willow said, giggling.

Buffy groaned her dismay. “This is ridiculous. I’m going home.” She grabbed her purse and made her way out of the booth.

“No, Buffy, don’t leave,” Willow cried. “We were having a good time.”

“No, really. I should go before I do anything really stupid.” She bent to give each of her friends a quick hug. “And I am so getting you back for this, you big ho.”

Faith placed a hand over her heart, a grin on her face. “Oh, you wound me so.”

“Yeah, right.” Buffy laughed as she left the table, relieved that she was going to be able to put this whole situation behind her. At least for tonight.

She ran into Spike and Xander just a few feet from the door. Damn. So close.

“You going somewhere, love?” Spike asked, looking down at her purse.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I’m really tired, so I’m going to head home.”

“Well, it was great to meet you, Buffy,” Xander said, shaking her hand. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she replied, but he’d already started to head back to the table, where Willow and Faith were waiting. When she turned around, Spike was shaking his head at his friend’s retreating back. When he looked down at her, he sighed. “I think perhaps our friends are trying to play match maker.”

“You get that feeling too, huh?” Buffy replied, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “Look, I’m really sorry about Faith. She can get a little carried away sometimes.”

“No kidding,” Spike murmured. “Of course, she was completely off base.”

“Of course,” Buffy agreed, nodding her head emphatically.

“Just because I picked kind of a ... hot topic, doesn’t mean that we’re going to get all ... hot.” The last word was said on a sigh as he stared at her and Buffy wondered if he actually believed what he just said.

“Exactly,” she agreed, hoping he would believe her if not himself.

“Do you need a lift home or anything?”

“No. There’s a cab rank just outside. It should be pretty empty at this time of night.”

“Right then.” He held out his hand. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, then.”

Placing her hand in his, Buffy savoured the feel of his warm skin for a long as she could. “Good night, Spike.” Finally pulling away from his touch, she forced herself to walk out the door.

Chapter Five

As Buffy strode down the path toward the library she psyched herself up for the coming meeting. She could do this. It was simply a matter of mind over...well, libido.

Her brown flats barely made a sound as she walked. She'd deliberately chosen them, along with the brown tailored pants and simple white blouse, which she had buttoned all the way to the neck, with this meeting in mind. A severe bun and very basic, neutral make-up completed the look. She'd never felt less sexy in her life. Which was exactly the way she wanted it.

This was a supervision meeting with her supervisee and nothing more. They would talk about his research paper, with no unnecessary emotion or underlying tension. And she absolutely, definitely would not picture him naked.

Making her way down the steps that would take her to the café entrance, she paused to see if she could find Spike. Her breath hitched when she caught sight of him in a back corner. He held a pen in one hand while reading something on the table in front of him. The end of the pen was caught between his lips and he seemed to be sucking on it lightly. Hmm, I wonder if he's curling his tongue against it.

Cursing, she looked away. You haven't even sat down with him yet and already you're having lewd fantasies about his tongue. That's just great.

She plastered a neutral expression on her face as she approached the table. “Good afternoon. I see you're hard at work already?”

He looked up in surprise, the pen leaving his mouth with a soft pop, and gave her a cheerful smile. “Hey there, love. How are you?”

“Great.” Buffy dropped a small stack of paper onto the table. “I'm just going to order myself some lunch and then we can get started. Have you already ordered?”

When he nodded, she added, “I won't be long.”

“Buffy?”

She paused to look back at him and saw the hint of a frown marring his brow. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course.” She smiled. It wasn't too wide, nor too indifferent. It was a perfectly professional smile. “I'll be right back.”

Standing in line, Buffy forced herself not to look over at their table. She knew he was watching her. Somehow she could just feel it. His gaze rested on her as surely as if he had an arm wrapped around her waist. She couldn't help but wonder if he was checking her out, or if he was just wondering what drugs she was on that were making her act so weird. If she turned around now would he be undressing her with his eyes?

Don't look. Don't look.

She looked.

He was watching her all right. Like a hawk. No, like a panther. Oh, yeah. A panther just waiting for the right moment to pounce on its vulnerable prey. He was watching her like he wanted to bend her over the table and–

“What would you like?”

“Spike,” she said on a sigh.

“Umm...I'm afraid we don't sell...err...spikes. Would you like another moment to look at the menu board?”

“What?” Her eyes snapped back into the focus. There was an irate young man standing in front of her with an absurd orange cap on his head. He had his pen and pad at the ready. “Oh, I'm sorry. I was in a different world for a minute.”

“Uh-huh. Well, in this world there are six people lining up behind you so...”

Buffy ordered her food and paid as quickly as possible before escaping back to the table. So much for the confident ultra-professional she was supposed to be today.

“Okay. Let's get started,” she said as she sat down at the table and got out her notepad and pen. She forced herself to look at him. “Tell me, William, how has your research been going?”

He just sat there, staring at her, confusion clouding his eyes.

“Is there a problem?” she asked. God, stop looking at me like I kicked your puppy.

He shook his head, as if to clear it. “No. No problem.” He shuffled through the papers in front of him for a moment, before handing her several neatly typed pages. “I've drafted four basic hypotheses based on our last discussion and I'd like to know what you think of them. Also, I've included a list of the articles I've found in my literature search. I haven't quite finished reading them but I should be done in the next few days.”

Buffy scanned the pages quickly, noting that he had several seminal articles, as well as plenty of the latest research in the field. “This is good. Excellent work.” At the end of the last page she added a couple of extra names. “I also want you to look these authors up. I think you'll find them useful.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

She raised her head, unable to resist giving him a little smile. “You're welcome.” Their eyes met and held for a long moment and Buffy felt her heart beat quicken. There's that panther again.

A large plate, overflowing with a hamburger and fries, landed on the table between them with a loud thud. Buffy jumped, her eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed the moment that had just past between them. Although she recognised a few colleagues here and there, everyone seemed oblivious to their presence. Thank God for small mercies.

“Thank you,” she murmured to the waiter as the last of the food and drinks were placed on the table. When they were alone once more she took a sip of her cappuccino. “Now, have you had any new ideas for the study?”

Spike munched on a fry before speaking. “I was thinking that maybe I should include couples that are dating but aren't having sex. As, like, a kind of control group.”

“Do you mean couples that haven't reached the stage of having sex yet? Or couples who are in a relationship but are actively choosing to abstain?”

“The latter.” He nodded to her meal with a teasing smile. “It's not a wonder you're so tiny if that's all you eat for lunch, love.”

Buffy looked down at her salad sandwich and then over at his huge hamburger and mountain of fries. At least I'm not risking a coronary before leaving the table. She opened her mouth to say as much, then stopped. If she said that then she knew he'd have some witty comeback and before she knew it they'd be entering sexy-banter mode like there was no tomorrow. But there was a tomorrow and she planned to still have a viable career when it arrived.

“I think there could be some problems with that idea. Too many extraneous variables. Like...umm...what are you doing?”

Between bites of his burger, Spike had dumped a handful of his fries on top of her sandwich.

“I'm feeding you,” he said. “What fun is there to life if you can't even enjoy hot chips.”

Buffy stared at the offending food. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't have done that to any of his other professors. It was a dead give away.

Quickly, she picked up the fries and dumped them straight back onto his plate.

“Thank you, but no.” Avoiding his gaze she concentrated on making some notes on her pad. “Now, back to those extraneous variables. I would think that in most cases people who choose not to consummate a relationship do so for a reason. For some it's religious. For others it's a matter of personal morality. Some just don't wish to take that step until they are certain the relationship is going somewhere.”

Finally she allowed herself to look at him, to find him finishing his lunch with a sudden eagerness. She cleared her throat before she continued. “Since you're focusing on how big a role sexual satisfaction in particular plays in the continuation of the relationship, you might want to stick to people who are actually having it. Having sex, that is.”

He still wasn't looking at her. In fact, it seemed that now he was the one that was avoiding looking at her. “William? What do you think?”

“I suppose you're right.” His voice was so quiet she had to lean forward just to here him.

That was it? Where was the debate, the questions? Where was the passion she was so used to seeing in him?

“Okay, then.” She shrugged. “You're welcome to look into it further if you wish. We could talk about it more when you've researched the idea.”

“No, it's fine.” Suddenly he was staring at her all too intensely. “Did I do something wrong the other night?”

Taken aback, she swallowed. “No, of course not.”

“You just seem...different.”

She swallowed. “Not at all, William. I just–“

“There, see?” he said, pointing a finger at her. “You keep calling me William.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. “That is your name, isn't it?”

“Well, yeah, but,” his frown deepened, “my friends call me Spike and...I thought that's what we were getting to be. Friends.”

The disappointment in his voice was almost too much for her to bare, but she forged on anyway. This was the best thing for both of them. “Look, I'm sorry. But this is an important year for your degree and you're going to need to concentrate on that. Besides I'm a professor and you're a student. It's just not a good idea for us to get too...friendly.”

“Technically I'm not your student. It's not like you'll be grading my thesis.”

“But I still have a direct impact on the outcome of your education here. It's a fine line, Sp–“ She cursed inwardly at her slip-up. “William. This is just the way it has to be. I'm sorry if you thought differently.”

He searched her face for a moment, as if he wanted to argue with her, before he nodded curtly. “Right then. I understand completely. Shall we get back to work, Professor?”

Buffy waited for the relief that was supposed to be filling her right now. It was done. She'd set him, and herself, straight. There would be no more heated looks or lingering touches. No more socialising. Everything was the way it should be. So why did she feel like crying?

Chapter Six

Buffy found him ensconced in a corner of the library, his attention focused on the article he was reading. When he finally noticed her, she smiled wickedly. “Hello, Spike.” She reached up to take the clip out of her hair and her tight bun unravelled into a cascade of golden hair. Then she turned to ease herself onto his lap, her bottom lip protruding in a delectable pout. “I just can't lie to you any more, Spike. I want you. I've wanted you since the day we met.” Leaning forward, she slid her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his as she whispered, “Please, Spike, make me yours.”

“I'm tellin' ya man, this place is starting to piss me off. With the price they're charging for beer, the least they could do is put some peanuts on the table. You know what I mean?”

Spike looked up at Xander, cursing his untimely interruption. Just when he was getting to the good part of what was quickly becoming his favourite fantasy. He sighed. “I guess we could always find somewhere else to drink.”

“What's up with you tonight?”

“Nothing.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “That's why your bottom lip is about to pick up a splinter from the table.”

Spike sighed. “I had lunch with Buffy today. A working lunch,” he clarified when he saw the look on Xander's face.

“And?”

“And apparently she doesn't associate with students on a social basis.”

“Oh, harsh.” Shaking his head, Xander frowned. “She actually said that?”

Spike took a sip of his beer before starting to peel off the label. “Not in so many words. She wrapped it up in a nice little for-the sake-of-your-education package.”

Xander was quiet for a long moment before he said, “Well, you did say you didn't want anything to interfere with your thesis. I guess you got your wish.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Spike sighed again. “I thought this year would be easy, you know? Just get stuck into the work and get it over with. Hell, I picked Buffy myself, after my last supervisor bailed, because I knew she was the best. Then she turned out to be funny and generous and–”

“Hot,” Xander added helpfully.

Spike groaned in dismay. “So fucking unbelievably hot.” He dropped his head into his hands. “Now I’m not even supposed to be friendly to her. This is what hell feels like.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Spike thought about that for a moment before a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “The only thing I can do. I'm going to give the lady exactly what she asked for. She wants to keep things professional? I can be as strictly professional as the next guy.”

**********

Buffy looked up with a frown when she heard a knock on the door. She glanced at her watch as she stood, wondering who on earth would be dropping by unannounced.

Willow's smiling face greeted her when she opened the door. “I know you're grading papers tonight,” her friend began as she pushed her way inside and dropped several large plastic bags on the dining table. “But I also know that you need to eat. So here I am.”

Buffy smiled as she watched Willow unload an assortment of Chinese food. “What would I do without you?”

“Starve probably,” Willow replied with a chuckle. Then she held up a bottle of wine and waggled her eyebrows. “Or possibly die of thirst?”

Buffy laughed. “Well, I don't like to drink when I'm grading but, I suppose one won't hurt.”

“That's the spirit.”

A few minutes later, Buffy was groaning in appreciation. “This is fantastic. Thank you so much, it's exactly what I needed.”

Willow nodded. “We've been friends plenty long enough for me to know how caught up you get in your work.” She shrugged. “Besides, this beats sitting at home eating by myself.”

Buffy frowned, not liking the pangs of loneliness she heard in her friend's voice. She was all too familiar with that feeling lately and knew how hard it could be. “What ever happened to that Xander guy? Did you two ever go out?”

“You mean Spike's friend?”

Buffy kept her eyes on her food, hoping to cover any signs of a reaction to Spike's name. Now if only she could get her inner kitty to stop purring, she'd be fine. “Yeah, him.”

“Xander's a great guy. It turns out he's working on a construction site down the road from my office, so we've met up for lunch a couple of times. But there's no sparkage or anything. Not for either of us I don’t think.” She sighed regretfully. “It's a shame really. He's exactly the type of guy I should be dating but, if it's not there...” She trailed off as Buffy nodded her understanding.

“Speaking of,” Willow asked a few moments later, “how are things going with Spike?”

Buffy yanked a smile onto her face. “Fine. Perfect. He's a model student.”

“Uh-huh.” Willow was obviously unconvinced. “What happened to you two being one lingering look away from throwing yourselves at each other.”

“I explained to Spike, err-William that is, that we need to keep things professional for the sake of his education. And that was the end of that.”

“It was? You're kidding.”

“Nope,” Buffy replied, hoping her disappointment wasn't too obvious. “Since then he's been the consummate professional in every way. He's even gone back to calling me Professor Summers.” Buffy poked a steamed dim sim with her fork as she recalled the meetings they'd had in the month since their lunch together. Spike was always completely respectful toward her. He hadn't said a single word that didn't pertain to the work at hand. He hadn't called her 'pet' or 'love'. Not once. He was doing exactly what she told him too. And it was pissing her off to no end.

She'd thought he liked her. He could at least show a little regret, maybe a smidgen of longing. Oh come on, Buffy, you want him pining after you. Thinking up excuses to be close to you. Admit it.

The sound of laughter brought her out of her thoughts. “What?” she asked irritably.

“Look at you,” Willow said between giggles. “You tell Spike to back off, and then when he does you pout about it.”

Buffy frowned. “I'm not pouting. I just thought...I don't know what I thought.”

“You thought he'd put up more of a fight,” Willow said, pointing a finger at her. “That he'd corner you in your office and kiss the hell out of you, and then you could blame it on him because, after all, you did tell him to back off. Thereby avoiding all responsibility for the fact that you would have kissed him back – and then some.”

Buffy's eyes narrowed. “I thought I told you not to use your shrink powers on me.”

“Hey, I can't help it. It’s not something I can just turn off when I clock out for the day.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Perhaps having a clinical psychologist for a best friend wasn't such a good idea after all.

“You know what I think?”

Buffy snorted. “Does it matter? You'll tell me anyway.”

“I think he's doing it on purpose,” Willow continued, as if she hadn't even spoken.

That got her attention. “Huh?”

An excited grin crept onto Willow's face. “I saw him that night at the pub. He was practically salivating just looking at you. There's no way in hell he turned that off so easily. You can't just flick a switch and make lust go away.”

“Don't I know it,” Buffy grumbled around a mouthful a food.

“Which means he's putting in some serious effort to hide all evidence of his attraction to you.”

“Well I did kind of insist.”

Willow shook her head. “I'm not so sure. You told him that the two of you can't have a relationship–”

“Actually I even ruled out friendship.” Buffy cringed. “I was kind of a cow.”

“Whatever,” Willow said, shaking her head. “The point is you never told him to become a robot. You just said things couldn’t progress any further. I think he's doing this to provoke you. To make you want him more.”

Buffy's mouth fell open. “Oh my God. T-that devious little rat.” She flung her hands in the air. “And here I am the s-supposed expert in relationship theory. I can't believe I never realised it.”

Willow shook her head, as if dismissing that suggestion. “You're too close, you never would have seen it. That's why it's always good to have an impartial third party.” She smiled in satisfaction. “That's me.”

“I can't believe this,” Buffy continued to rant, pacing the room now. “And to think I've spent the past month doubting my own sanity. Thinking that I was wrong about him being attracted to me. When really he was just playing with me. And it was working,” she cried.

She stopped in her tracks suddenly and turned to Willow with a devilish gleam in her eye. “Well, we'll soon see about that. I'm the teacher here. He is not going to outsmart me.”

Chapter Seven

When Spike knocked on her office door the following day, Buffy threw a cheery “Come in” over her shoulder. She waited until she heard him sit down before she turned her swivel chair away from her desk to face him.

“Good afternoon, William.” Her legs were crossed in order to best show them off from just above the knee, where her skirt ended, down to her high heels. The cowled neckline of her sleeveless shirt revealed just a hint of cleavage. To add the finishing touch to the effect, she made sure that, as she turned, her long, flowing hair swung carelessly over one shoulder.

With a secretive smile, she sat back and awaited his reaction.

Spike's eyes slid briefly down her body before he looked away and began to unload a stack of papers from his bag. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Good afternoon. How are you today, Professor Summers?”

Buffy frowned. That's it? I spend over an hour digging through my wardrobe to find just the right outfit to get under your skin and all I get is a single glance and a generic 'how are you'?

“I'm fine,” she said, her tone decidedly less cheery now. “And yourself?”

“Yeah, good,” he replied without looking up. “I've brought my questionnaire along to show you. If you wouldn't mind taking a look at it.”

Buffy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was going to be harder than she'd thought. “Of course.” Taking the offered papers, she began to look through them. A smile curved the corners of her mouth. “I take it you haven't designed many questionnaires before?”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “That obvious, huh?”

She chuckled. “Oh yeah. Pull up your chair.” She turned back toward the desk and cleared some space for them to work on.

He moved in beside her so they could both see the pages at the same time. They were so close that their arms were almost touching. Buffy almost crowed in delight. This I can work with.

“Okay,” she said, picking up her red pen. “One of the things you want to achieve is a balance between clarity and length. You want your questions to be nicely spaced but, at the same time, if you hand people a thick stack of pages they'll balk at completing them all.”

As she spoke, Buffy kept her pen busy on the page, making notes here and there. Every few minutes she looked up at Spike to ask a question or for clarification on a point. She kept her voice low to encourage him to lean closer. When that didn't work she started to point out areas of the page furthest to her left so he was forced to lean in, if only to see what she was talking about.

Then came the clincher. Her leg brushed against his underneath the table. It had actually been an accident. Just something that occurred naturally as they moved. But when it did happen, she froze. Her breath caught, her pen paused, she fought against the urge to rub her bare calf against the denim of his jeans.

A heartbeat later, he moved away. Right away. Like, two feet further down the desk away.

That was so not the reaction she'd been hoping for.

She put pen to paper again in an attempt to hide any sign that she'd noticed the sudden gaping distance between them. It only took her a few minutes to finish looking through everything, and by then she felt calm enough to speak without giving herself away.

“There,” she said, gathering the pages into a neat pile. “I think that should do it. Take a look at my suggestions and see what you think. I'll review it again at our next meeting, but I'm sure you'll be fine.” She clasped her hands together in her lap as she finally forced herself to meet his gaze. “What else did you want to do today?”

His mouth open and closed soundlessly a few times before he managed to speak. “Nothing. That should cover it for now.” Spike all but snatched the questionnaire out of her hands and stuffed it into his bag.

“I guess I'll see you next week then.” With a defeated sigh she stood to say goodbye. “Oh, and I have a new book you might be interested in reading. One of my other students will be returning it to me later today so feel free to drop in and pick it up, if you have the time. You know my office hours.”

“I do.” Spike slung his bag over his shoulder before holding out his hand. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

She slipped her hand into his, feeling a tingling sensation rush up her arm as her skin pressed against his palm. Her fingers curled around his as he shook her hand. Calling herself a dozen kinds of fool, she searched his eyes in one last attempt to find...she wasn't even sure what. Some sign of the fire that she'd seen burning in him before she'd gone and doused him with cold water.

For just a moment she thought she saw something. A tiny flicker of desire dancing in those blue depths as he held her hand just a fraction longer than necessary. But then it was gone and he rushed out of the office muttering something about being late for another appointment.

Buffy slumped into her chair, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my God,” she said with a mortified groan. “Buffy, you idiot.”

Snatching up the phone she dialled the number for Willow's cell phone, praying she would answer.

“Dr Rosenberg speaking.”

“Willow, I've made a huge mistake and it's all your fault,” Buffy cried into the phone.

“Err, okay. Tell me what happened.”

Buffy quickly relayed the details of her meeting with Spike, feeling her face burn hotter with every word. “...and then he practically ran out of the room like the devil was after him.”

“Oh dear.” There was a long pause before Willow added, “I guess it could have been worse.”

“Yeah, he could have been screaming as he ran out the door.”

“No. I mean you didn't actually say anything inappropriate it's not like you tried to kiss him or anything. Maybe he just didn't realise you were trying to provoke a reaction.”

“Willow, I couldn't have been more obvious if I'd actually tried to hump his leg.”

“Yikes!”

Buffy closed her eyes, feeling shame wash over her. “That about covers it.”

**********

In a bathroom just down the hall, Spike splashed water over his face and tried to will away the giant erection that had taken up residence in his pants. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Buffy sitting there beside him. Her scent intoxicating. Her smile tempting. Her body all but begging him to reach out and touch.

When he'd decided to play the cold fish in response to her announcement a month ago, he'd thought that it might bruise her ego a little. Maybe even make her regret her decision. But this? This was something else all together.

It wasn't anything specific that she'd said or done. But he knew without a doubt that, from the moment he walked into her office, she'd had every intention of driving him crazy with want. He wasn't quite sure why, considering she'd been the one to call a halt to any kind of relationship between them, but it had been impossible to miss.

Then, when her leg had rested against his under the table, her heated response has been unmistakable. The gentle parting of her lips, the way she'd stilled, as if in anticipation of what the following moments would bring. She'd been breathtaking. It had taken every shred of willpower he possessed to resist her.

He cursed at his reflection in the mirror as every aroused bone in his body urged him to storm right back into her office and finished what she had started. He clutched at the sink in front of him, his knuckles turning white with the effort to stay where he was. He was not some adolescent boy to be led about by his libido and he was not about to be taken in by her games. He'd tell her that too. Just as soon as he managed to get this damn erection to go the freakin' hell away.

Chapter Eight

Buffy was just locking her door, glad to finally be on her way home, when she heard someone call her name. When she looked up and saw Spike jogging down the corridor in her direction, she cringed. Damn. She really hadn't expected to see him again today, not after the spectacle she'd made of herself at their meeting.

“I'm glad I caught you,” he said between pants when he reached her. “I was just wondering if you have that book handy. I thought I might read it over the weekend.”

“Oh, of course. It's on my desk.” Refusing to look at him, she set about reopening the door and walked into the darkened room. Thankfully, she remembered where she'd left the book, so it only took a moment to find it.

When she turned to leave, she almost ran into him. He really should have stayed out in the corridor. Something about them being here alone together, in the darkness, was too great a threat to her already tenuous composure. “Here it is,” she muttered as she thrust the book at him. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“I'm sure I will,” he said in a low voice.

She waited a few moments, hoping he would leave. When he just stood there looking at her, she decided to take the initiative for him. “Well, that's that then,” she said as she walked around him and gestured for him to follow her out of the room. “I'll see you next week.” She relocked the door and headed straight for the lift.

He followed, shoving the book into his bag. “It's dark out. I'll walk you to your car.”

“That's really not necessary.” Buffy punched the button on the lift with unnecessary force. All she wanted to do right now was get the hell away from him and any other reminder of today's humiliation.

“I have to go this way anyway and it will give us a chance to talk. I wanted to ask you a question.”

Oh crap. This can't be good. “R-Really?” she asked, trying her best to sound calm. “What's that?”

The lift arrived and they both entered the empty compartment. With a gentle whoosh the doors slid closed, trapping them inside – alone. Buffy felt her pulse go into overdrive. Part of her wished he'd just speak and get it over with, the other part dreaded what he would say. She glanced sideways at him. His gazed was fixed on her with steadfast determination.

“A few weeks ago,” he began, finally breaking the silence, “when you said we couldn't be friends or...anything. Did you mean that?”

In her head, Buffy screamed every curse word she could think of. She should have known her behaviour today would come back to bite her in the ass. How the hell was she going to get out of this one? “Of course I did,” she replied, continuing to stare at the glowing numbers above the door.

“Then why were you flirting with me today?”

Holy hell! He really doesn't pull any punches, does he. Buffy forced a laugh but it sounded more like she was choking. “Flirting? What ever made you think I was flirting with you?”

He took a step closer, crowding her. “Buffy, don't play games with me.”

She sighed. This was ridiculous. They both knew he was right, she might as well act the grown up and just admit it. “I'm sorry. I know it was wrong, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I've been working too hard and spending too much time alone and it's been a really long time since someone looked at me the way...the way you looked at me. Or at least the way you looked at me before I told you not to.”

A broad grin stole across Spike's face and he took yet another step towards her. “So that's why you did it?” he murmured into her ear. “To get me to...look?”

She swallowed. She leaned a little to the side to put some distance between them, shivering when he chuckled. Parts of her she'd nearly forgotten existed began to throb with painful awareness at his closeness.

The doors parted in front of her and Buffy burst out of the lift, sucking in lungfuls of the cool night air. “Please excuse me. I have to go now,” she called back over her shoulder.

“Oh, no you don't.” Spike argued, still one step behind her. “We need to settle this.”

“Look, I'm s-sorry I made you uncomfortable. Okay? It was a t-terrible mistake on my part and I apologise profusely. Let's just leave it at that.”

Fumbling in her purse to find her car keys, Buffy pushed the button on her remote, grateful to hear the reassuring chirp of her alarm. Now all she had to do was make it into the car and she'd be out of here.

“That's not good enough this time, love.” He held one hand firmly against the car door, preventing her from opening it. “You can't keep changing the rules on me depending on your mood.”

“I know that. I just wanted–”

“You wanted?” he yelled, frowning down at her. “What about what I want? When do I get a say in this?”

He was right. She knew he was right. Again. She'd been making all the decisions and so far she'd been pretty damn fickle. She could hardly blame him for calling her on it. “All right.” She looked up at him with a sigh. “What do you want, Spike?”

He only hesitated for a moment before he answered. “This.” Then his mouth was on hers, claiming her, daring her to deny him. His hands tangled in her hair and she clutched at his forearms as he tilted his head, deepening their kiss with a muffled groan.

Buffy melted against him, all rational thought falling away at his touch. His smell, his taste, the very feel of his tongue plundering her mouth, all clashed in a tumult of sensation. Her arms wound around his neck and she pulled him closer, wanting to make this moment last.

When their lips finally parted, he leaned his forehead against hers, cupping her face in his hands. Their breath, heavy with lust, mingled between them. “Christ, Buffy. I've been wanting to do that from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

She couldn't help but smile at his admission. “That makes two of us.”

He leaned in for another taste, breathing her name against her lips. Every touch of his mouth was a study in subtlety, as if he was savouring each individual caress. Then he pulled back again, to stroke her hair with his fingers.

She looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes, feeling as though she'd been drugged by his kisses. “That was...wow.”

“Yeah, it was.” He licked his lips, as if he could still taste her on his tongue and she almost whimpered. “So, what now?” he asked quietly.

And with the utterance of those three simple words, the intimacy of the moment shattered, the remnants of her desire left to lie like so many shards of glass at her feet.

Her whole body snapped to attention and she backed away. Nervously, her eyes darted around, searching the shadows for anyone that might have witnessed their indiscretion. God, how could she have been so stupid as to make out with him right here in the university car park? Outside her office building no less.

Seeing no one, she let out a sigh of relief and turned back to him. “I honestly don't know, Spike. I need some time to think.”

She fully expected him to argue, so she was grateful when he nodded, albeit reluctantly.

He stepped away, giving her room to open her car door, but placed a hand on hers to stop her just as she was about to get in. “I'll give you time, love, if that's what you need. But know this: If you try to put that wall back up between us, I will tear it down.”

Heat lanced through her anew at the forceful tone of his voice, the intensity in his eyes. “I know,” she said, meeting his gaze head-on.

Without another word, she got into her car and pulled quickly out of the car park. When she looked back at the place where she'd left him, in her rear view mirror, he was gone.

Chapter Nine

Buffy waited nervously with the cell phone pressed to her ear. Maybe he wasn't home and she would be able to put this off a little longer. The question was, could she wait much longer without combusting.

“'ello?”

Combustion postponed. “Hey. It's, umm, it's Buffy.”

There was a short pause, and then, “Hello, luv.” She could hear the smile in his voice and found herself smiling as well. “It's good to hear from you.”

His words sent little shivers down her spine and she kicked herself for acting like a smitten schoolgirl.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

She took a deep breath and tried to sound casual. “Actually, I was wondering if you're busy right now. I happen to be in your neighbourhood and I thought maybe we could meet for coffee.” She neglected to mention the fact that she's driven all the way to the university this morning to dig his home address out of her files.

“Right now?” The surprise in his voice was obvious and she cringed. That confirmed it. She really did look as desperate as she felt. Then he chuckled. “That anxious to see me are you, pet?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, I'm positively counting down the seconds. I'm at a café about a block from your building called The Bean. Do you think you can deflate your ego long enough to get your ass down here?”

That only made him laugh harder. “No worries, love. I'll see you in a few minutes.”

After she hung up, Buffy sat fidgeting with her phone. Her heart was beating double-time with excitement at the thought of seeing him again, but she was anxious as well. She had no idea how he'd react to her proposal. If he agreed, then she'd probably go home feeling happier than she had in months. If not, she had a pint of Homer Hudson ice cream in her freezer that was just waiting for a good excuse to be eaten.

“Hey there, pet.”

Startled, she looked up to see Spike standing beside her table. “Wow, that was quick.”

He shrugged. “I didn't have far to come.” He sat opposite her and ordered a cup of strong, black coffee before he continued. “You know you could have just knocked on my door. I wouldn't have minded.”

Buffy shook her head vehemently. “I don't think that would have been a good idea.” I may have tackled you to the ground before you even invited me in. “Here is better.”

He smiled at her with a knowing look in his eye, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “So how has your weekend been?” he asked, then winked at her. “Thoughtful I hope.”

“You could say that,” she replied, unable to hide a smile of her own. The kiss they had shared just two nights ago had already been replayed in her head hundreds of times. Hell, it even came with a orchestral soundtrack now.

“Any thoughts you'd like to share?” he prompted.

This was it. The perfect opportunity to say what she'd come here to say. It was now or never. “Okay. Here's the thing...” She paused as she tried to arrange her suddenly jumbled thoughts back into some sort of order. Maybe she should have written this down. Swallowing heavily, she took a deep breath and tried again. “About the other night–”

“When we kissed.”

She looked up at his interruption to see him grinning at her. God damn it. He was enjoying her discomfort way too much.

“I like you,” she blurted out, determined to get this over with before that threat of combustion turned into a reality. “I mean I really do like you. If we'd met under different circumstances I would have no qualms about exploring this...” she waved a hand between them, “this thing that we have between us, further. But–”

The amusement that had been written all over his face when she began her speech had, by now, been replaced with disappointment. “Buffy, I warned you about trying to shut me out again.”

“No,” she said, holding a hand up to stop him from going any further. “That's not what I'm doing. I'm trying very hard to be honest here so will you please just shut up and listen?”

That seemed to give him pause. “All right.”

She had no problem giving voice to her thoughts now. This was too important for her to stuff it up. “Whether we like it or not, I'm your supervisor for your master's thesis. We can't just ignore that and pretend that it doesn't matter. If anyone found out about what happened the other night it could be very detrimental to both of us. I, for one, did not work this hard to have it all go up in smoke because I couldn't control my hormones and I don't think you did either.”

Spike frowned. “I know that the situation isn't ideal but, Buffy, don't you think you're getting a little carried away? I'm not one of your students. Who is really going to care if we go on a date?”

“You'd be surprised,” she replied. “Despite the high number of women working on the front line of psychology, when it comes to academia the top jobs are still more likely to be filled by men. Men who haven't appreciated a short, blonde girl making it into their ranks at such a young age. If I was found to be consorting with someone in my charge it would all but destroy my credibility.”

Spike lowered his eyes to his coffee cup and Buffy knew she'd made her point.

“There's also your career to consider,” she continued. “If we began a relationship while I was supervising you, there would always be those who would believe that you had an unfair advantage over your fellow students. That I did more to help you write your thesis than is permissible for a supervisor. Those sorts of rumours can follow you for your whole career.”

He swore quietly and ran his hands through his hair. “You're right. Of course you're right. I should have thought through the repercussions more seriously.” He looked at her with a wry grin. “You may have noticed that when I see you my blood doesn't exactly flow in the direction of my brain.”

She laughed, feeling her face flush at the mention of his...err...nether regions.

“I'm sorry I gave you a hard time.” As he spoke, his hand moved across the table and his fingertips brushed against hers on the cool surface.

“It's okay,” she replied, relishing even this minor contact. When she looked up she found him all but devouring her with his eyes.

“I can't believe I don't get to kiss you again.”

Even as her heart melted, tears pricking the back of her eyes, she shook her head at him. “Don't be so damn hasty. You'll still get that and more if I have anything to say about it.”

“Huh?” Spike tried to frown in confusion and raise his eyebrows in surprise, at the same time. It was quite a comical look and Buffy couldn't help but laugh.

“I will only be your supervisor until you hand in your thesis and graduate from your degree. That will officially be the end of our professional relationship. After that, what we choose to do in our private life is just that...private.”

Spike began to chuckle. “When you say you need time to think you really mean it. Got it all worked out in that pretty little head of yours, haven't you?”

Buffy flashed him her best smile. “Naturally.”

He shook his head and relaxed back in his chair, disentangling their fingers. “Okay. So we wait. I can deal with that. What do we do until then?”

“We carry on as before.”

He raised her eyebrows at her again. “Are you kidding? You mean the whole professional discussion only thing again? That was exhausting.”

“It was?” she asked in surprise. “You made it look so effortless. Like it really didn't bother you one way or the other.”

Smiling, he tucked his tongue behind his teeth in a way that made her want to taste it. “And it drove you crazy, didn't it?”

“Oh my God, Willow was so right about you.”

“Are you seriously telling me that you've never seen any of the students you've supervised socially? Not ever?”

Buffy squirmed a little in her chair. “Well, technically I've been friendly with one or two but...this is different.”

“How?”

She shrugged. “I never wanted to be...err...inappropriate with any of them.”

He laughed out loud at that one. “So that's it. You just don't think you can keep your hands off my hot, tight little body, hey?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” she replied, dong her best to look indignant. “I just don't think it's a good idea to tempt fate.”

“Uh-huh. That's a good one. Blaming your lack of self-control on fate.”

She was preparing to argue again when he took hold of her hand again. “I just want to spend time with you,” he told her. “If the only way I can do that is to be your friend then I'll take what I can get. For now.”

Seeing the hope in his eyes, Buffy sighed. The thought of trying to keep herself aloof from him for the rest of the year did sound pretty awful, not to mention practically impossible. And at least this time would allow them to get to know each other.

“All right. You win,” she conceded. “Platonic friendship it is.” Lord, save us from our own lust bunnies!

Chapter Ten

Buffy gasped in shock, her face portraying her disbelief. “You've got to be kidding me. You got your nickname by stabbing someone with a railroad spike? No way.”

“Hey, it's not like I did it on purpose,” Spike argued. “We were a couple of fifteen-year-olds idiots just fooling around.”

“I take it the guy lived to tell the tale?”

“Yeah. Luckily I missed all the more important internal organs.” He laughed, relaxing back in the swivel chair. “Though every time he tells the story it gets more and more outlandish. And, of course, I have to agree with whatever version he feels like telling on account of being the one that stabbed him in the guts.”

She laughed. “He forgave you then? You're still friends?”

“Of course,” he replied, as if that should have been obvious. “He was brandishing a spike too, you know.”

Buffy could only shake her head at his cavalier attitude. “Of course.” It had been nearly two months since they'd decided to be friends, until the day they were free to be, well, more than friends. So far they'd managed to keep their hands to themselves, though the odd flirtatious remark was known to sneak its way into their conversations. Once they'd figured out how to cope with the strong attraction they felt for one another, she'd been surprised by just how much she enjoyed his company. Beneath all the sexual tension, they actually had a lot in common. It was kind of nice, she thought, getting to know each other before indulging in a physical relationship. Now, as long as she could continue resisting the urge to hike up her skirt when ever he came within three feet of her, they'd be fine.

A strange beeping sounded interrupted them and Spike swore under his breath as he sat forward to reach into his back pocket, pulling out his cell phone. “That's my reminder,” he told her. “I have to leave now if I'm going to make it to work on time.” He smiled at her. “I hadn't realised so much time had passed.”

Nodding her agreement, Buffy looked at her watch and groaned as she saw it was nearly two o'clock.”Damn. I'm about six minutes away from being late for my lecture.” She began to hunt around on her desk for her lecture folder, kicking herself for not keeping a closer eye on the time.

“So, will I see you at Xander's party on Saturday night?” Spike asked as he gathered his own belongings.

She paused in her search to lift a questioning eyebrow at him. “Huh?”

“Xander. He decided on Tuesday to have one of his impromptu parties.” He frowned. “He said that he invited you and Willow and Faith.”

Buffy slapped her hand against her forehead as her most recent conversation with Willow came back to her. “I remember now. Willow mentioned it when I spoke to her yesterday.”

A grin broke out on his face. “Great. So, you'll be there?”

Finally having located her lecture notes, Buffy stood, though she kept her eyes on her folder. “I don't think I can, Spike. I have a lot of papers to grade in the next week and I don't really think I can spare the time.”

He gave her a doubtful look. “You can't spare a couple of hours on a Saturday night for a few beers and some dip?”

“This is just a very busy time of year.” She made a show of getting out her office keys, still refusing to look up. “With exams coming up and all...”

“Buffy,” he said quietly as he reached out to lift her chin with two fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Be straight with me.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. Did he have to be so perceptive? “I'm just not sure it's such a good idea. It's one thing to have an extra long meeting or have lunch here at the university. But if we start socialising in public, things could get,” she swallowed hard, “complicated.”

He grinned, looking much happier with her new answer. “Still feeling those irresistible urges to tear my clothes off and have your wicked way?”

Even as she laughed, Buffy couldn't stop herself from trailing her gaze down over his body, as if she was already accomplishing that task with her mind. “The thought has occasionally crossed my mind in the past two months.”

A low chuckle sounded as he took a step closer. “Only occasionally?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “occasionally.” Like once or twice an hour. Sometimes for an entire hour. Yes, occasionally.

His fingertips were teasing the sensitive skin of her neck now, stroking her lightly, and her breathing quickened in response. “And here I'm all but haunted by thoughts of you,” he purred. “The things I'd like to do to you.”

Buffy bit her bottom lip as her eyes slid closed on a sigh. Just a few more months. A few more torturous months. With a regretful groan she forced herself to step away. “This is why I'm not so sure I should go,” she said, her voice breathless with want.

Spike let out a frustrated groan and ran his fingers through his hair as he, too, backed away. “I know. It's hard. Damn hard at the moment, actually,” he added with a grin. “But you work too hard, Buffy. You deserve to take a break now and then. Besides, we're the only two people Xander knows from the university, so you don't have to worry about being caught ogling me.”

She just shook her head in amusement as he waggled his eyebrows at her. “You were at the front of the line the day God was handing out egos, weren't you?”

He shrugged. “Well, hell, I figured if he was giving 'em away...”

Laughing, she opened to the office door and they walked out into the hallway. “All right, you've convinced me. But no funny business, mister.”

He held up his hands defensively. “You have my word, professor.”

Buffy felt a pleasant shiver go through her. Spike rarely called her 'professor' these days, but every time he did she couldn't help but picture him saying it while handcuffed to her bed. Naked. Wicked Ways of Having Spike Fantasy Number 83, activating now.