Nervously, Buffy Summers fidgeted with the hemline of her shirt as she waited rather impatiently in what could only be described as the longest line in world history. Already one and a half hours into the procession, her feet were killing her slowly and she was seriously on the verge of doing the “pee-pee” dance and embarrassing the hell out of herself. Leaning to one side, she stood onto her tiptoes, stretching her five foot two frame as much as possible in attempts to see how much farther she had to go. Realizing that there were still at the very least seventy more people in front of her, she resumed her spot back in line and desperately tried to not think about the wonderfulness of the bathroom located just behind her.

One by one, they shuffled forward at a pace slower than a snail and with each step she felt her nervousness mount in triplicate. Clutching the manila envelope in her shaking right hand, she mentally repeated the mantra, “You can do this.” Sadly, the churning in her stomach said otherwise; there was just no way that she could face the hottest actor on television today and calmly ask for his autograph. “Nope, this is so not going to happen.” She said aloud when presented with a flash of the actor’s trademark platinum locks and the hearty sound of his laugh that twinkled down the line.

Just as she thought the sausage and egg biscuit from breakfast was going to make a repeat performance, she spied her two best friends as they wound their way through the crowd in her direction. “Xander! Willow!” Buffy cried when they thankfully stopped by to see how much longer she was going to be. Grabbing hold of the floppy haired brunette, she tugged him into the monstrous line and declared, “You have to do this for me!”

“What?! Have you lost your mind, Buff?” Xander Harris replied, obviously bewildered as he pushed the envelope back at his best friend. “No way! You’ve been yammering on about meeting him for like ever!”

“Nu-uh. Can’t do it, not gonna happen. And you have to since you didn’t get me a birthday present; consider getting his signature a belated gift to me.” Shoving the package back into his hands, she jumped out of the line and pushed him in with both hands.

“I so did to give you a present!” He cried, ready to argue until the tiny blonde cocked her eyebrow at him menacingly and replied, “A hug doesn’t count when it’s the only thing you bring, dork. Seriously, please do this for me, Xan. I’m going to make like the biggest idiot out of myself if I go up there. He’ll say hello and I’ll be lucky if I can manage even one syllable. Not to mention the overabundance of drool if he smiles at me…and oh God, I don’t even want to think about what will happen if he hugs me. He loves to hug his fans! No! Guys, I can’t….one touch and I’ll just melt into a big pile of Buffy-goo! Please, please, pretty puh-lease!”

Knowing full well that he could never say no to Buffy, Xander accepted his defeat with a shrug; ignoring the amused chuckles of the final member of their trio, Willow Rosenberg. “Put a cap on it, Wills. You have to deal with her while I wait in line.” Gaining just the slightest amount of satisfaction as the redhead’s face grew paler than normal; he laughed quietly to himself and settled in for the long haul as the girls headed towards the restrooms.

Finally, it was his turn to step up to the most popular table at the convention and he did so with gusto; proudly handing the actor the picture that Buffy had painstakingly picked out. “Could you make it out to Buffy, please?”

Eyeballing the man in front of him, Spike Thorne cocked his eyebrow amusingly and replied with a deep English accent, “Please tell me your name’s not Buffy, mate. Or were your parent’s hoping for a girl?”

“Hey now! I am very much the owner of all my male parts! It’s for my friend, Buffy. She kinda chickened out and made me stand in line for her.” He hastily replied, tilting his head in the girls’ direction.

“Ah-ha, very well then. And, pray tell, which one of your lovely ladies was so frightened by me that she couldn’t even approach me herself?” Spike inquired with a devilish grin; a plan already forming inside his evil mind.

“You see the little blonde…the one desperately trying to pretend like she’s not dying to know what you’re saying to me? That’s Buffy. Why?” Confused by the actor’s questions, Xander peeked over his shoulder and looked at his friends who were leaning against a pillar about thirty yards away. Turning back to Spike, he was shocked to see that the actor had stood up from his chair and rounding the table in the direction of Buffy and Willow. Hurrying to catch up, he asked, “Hey, wait! Um, whatcha doin’?”

“Jus’ wandering over to say ‘ello to an adoring fan.” Spike answered, deftly maneuvering his way through the crowd towards where Buffy stood. As he closed in on the petite blonde and took notice of her delicate, yet beautiful features, he realized that what had started out to be an innocent prank was quickly turning into something much more. Quickening his pace, he narrowly dodged a teenaged girl dressed up as one of the characters from his show, being taken out by a group of children with one harried chaperone lagging behind and somehow still managed to not trip over the tail of an unidentifiable creature before zeroing in on the beauty just in front of him.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy was doing her best attempt at not being obvious, slyly glancing out of the corner of her eye while leaning against a nearby pole and chatting with Willow. However, during one brave sneak peek to check on Xander’s progress she found herself locked in a heated glance with the very much drool worthy man of her dreams as he made his way through the crowd to where she was standing. Gasping with shock, Buffy quickly snapped her head back around and fixed hr wide eyed stare on Willow. “Oh my God! Wills, he’s coming this way!” She asked, clutching her friends arm as her heart hammered wildly in her chest and breathing quickly became an issue. “Please tell me I’m seeing things!”


“Nope, ‘fraid not, Buff. Spike Thorne is definitely heading this way, with one very flustered Xander on his heels.” Willow confirmed calmly as she slurped up the remaining dregs of lemonade. “So, do you plan on not breathing until he’s gone?”

“Shut it, Will! Why’s he coming this way? What did Xander do?!” Buffy cried, frantically straightening her clothes and fussing with her hair. “What do I do?”

“I’m going to go with breathing, then maybe something suave like hello or something.” The redhead replied with a sugary sweet smile. For as long as their favorite show, Joan the Vampire Slayer, had been on air, which was going on four years now, she and Xander had both been forced to endure countless hours of gushing from Buffy about the ‘dreamy’ Spike Thorne. It wasn’t that Willow didn’t find the thirty-something actor, who played a reformed evil vampire on a quest to prove his undying love for the Slayer, attractive; for he most definitely was the epitome of the perfect male specimen, with his chiseled cheekbones, slim muscular build and startling cobalt eyes. However, the petite redhead had harbored a secret crush on the Slayer herself for many years and was beginning to think she might be gay. “Hmm…seems he’s got his sights on you, maybe I should leave you two alone?”

“Don’t you dare.” Buffy hissed as she dug her nails into Willow’s arm hard enough to halt her friend’s escape attempt and pull her back next to her just in time to appear calm and collected when Spike stopped in front of them.

“’ello, cutie.” Spike drawled. Tilting his head to the side, he visually appraised the stunned female, deciding that she was even more beautiful up close and he was very much interested in anything she had to offer. “So, luv…what’s this about you not wanting to talk to me?”

Standing there frozen in place doing her best impression of a guppy and making monosyllabic sounds, Buffy was completely dumbfounded by the fact that Spike was talking to her. Thankfully, Willow struck quickly with a well placed poke to her side and jarred her out of the daze. Stammering, she replied with a very eloquent, “What? I mean…huh?”

“What my word challenged friend means is that she wanted very much to talk to you, but let nerves get the best of her.” Willow interjected, saving Buffy from further embarrassment. Sticking out her hand, she continued, “Hi, I’m Willow and Buffy’s just a bit shocked, she’ll be ok soon. I think.”

“Nice to meet you, ducks.” Spike replied earnestly. “Do you think she’ll be out of her stupor by say…eight o’clock tonight?” At Willow’s confused nod, he elaborated, “Good, then tell her to be ready and waiting, I’ll be round about then to take her to dinner. Are you all staying at the host hotel?”

“You’ll what? Um…I mean, huh?” Buffy sputtered as she hurriedly glanced at her silent friends then back to an awaiting Spike. “Dinner? You…with me?”

“Again with the ignoring of Buffy for the moment,” Willow jumped in, placing a hand over Buffy’s wide open mouth. “Yes, we’re staying at the Hyperion in room 214, and she will be waiting with bells on at eight.”

“Brilliant, although I’d suggest a dress for tonight instead of bells, might distract me a bit, yeah? We’ll save the festive wear for another night.” Spike replied with a saucy smirk and wink. “Well then, better make m’way back to m’booth before the natives get restless. Kitten, until to tonight.” Taking Buffy’s shaking hand in his, Spike placed a feather soft kiss to the back before placing the coveted autographed picture safely inside and heading back to his station.

A few seconds passed before Buffy was able to croak out, “Did I just get set up on a date with Spike Thorne?”


TBC...


**Reviews, please! I'm not too proud to beg!**

At approximately twenty minutes until eight o’clock, Buffy was alternating between adding the final touches to her makeup and trying not to throw up from the serious case of nerves that had taken up residence in her belly. Although she was dressed and almost ready to go, she was still having a hard time digesting the fact that in just a few short moments she would be going on a date with Spike Thorne. Opportunities like this just didn’t happen to the everyday, ordinary person…did they? Of course, after pondering that idea for a second or two longer than actually necessary, her mind was suddenly flooded with the notion that she probably wasn’t the first girl that he had asked out while at a convention; thus sending her emotions into a major whirlwind.

As her heart beat wildly, hammering inside her chest like a jackhammer, and breathing once again became a serious problem; Buffy closed the lid on the toilet and plopped down and stuck her head between her knees in attempts to halt the impending panic attack by taking deep gulps of air. Her mind was spinning as she thought of all the ways that tonight could go wrong. Would she make an idiot out of herself? Did he think of her as an easy one night stand? What exactly was he expecting her to do? Would her heart break into a million tiny pieces when it turned out he only thought of her as a way to pass time?

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Buffy muttered, closing her eyes tightly to block out the mental images that refused to go away. Her chanting must have gotten louder than she intended, because a sharp knock on the bathroom door caused her to jerk to attention. “Yeah?”

“Buffy? Is everything ok in there?” An obviously worried Willow asked timidly, “You’ve been in there for a while.”

“Come on in, Wills! I’m fine, just partaking in a little bit of pre-date jitters.” Pushing off the toilet seat and returning to the previous post in front of the mirror just as Willow stepped inside. Leaning in to the mirror, Buffy expertly applied smoky coal eyeliner and asked, “Why do you think he asked me out? I mean, seriously, the man could have any woman he wants and he chooses me?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it would have nothing to do with the fact that you’re gorgeous, would it? Come on, Buffy, I’m sure he just wants to get to know you.” Willow encouraged as she eased one hip onto the counter. “You look hot, he’s so gonna flip.”

“You really think so? This dress isn’t too slutty?” At Willow’s cocked eyebrow and look of impatience, Buffy sighed and said, “I still can’t believe I let you and Xander talk me into buying this thing, like I’ll ever get another chance to wear it.” Running her hands down the front of the fabric, she smoothed down an imaginary crease in the plum material.

After Willow and Xander managed to steer a dazed and very much confused Buffy out of the convention hall the trio had headed down the street in search of a late lunch. Sometime during the meal, where Buffy had managed to down several fries before being reduced to poking at her food absentmindedly, the realization of what happened finally penetrated her mind enough to provoke one thought…she had absolutely nothing to wear! Since they had only traveled to Las Vegas from Sunnydale, California for the weekend and hadn’t planned on doing much outside of the convention other than gambling at the hotel, the notion to bring something dressy for a night out on the town. Instantly kicking into hyper drive, Buffy had grabbed her friends and managed to drag them around town in search of the perfect dress.

Three hours later they found it, or rather…Willow and Buffy found it and Xander plopped down in a nearby chair and grumbled about his aching feet. Standing in front of the three way mirror, Buffy had meticulously inspected every inch of the corset style, knee-length dress for nearly half an hour before Willow miraculously convinced her to buy it, along with an impossibly high pair of black heels.

Now, as she appraised herself in the mirror, Buffy was having serious doubts about the figure hugging, cleavage pronouncing outfit she had chosen. “You’re sure it doesn’t scream ho-bag?”

“No, it doesn’t, but if it did…would that really be so terrible?” Growing tired of the apprehension on her friend’s face, and knowing full well that she was trying to talk herself out of the date, Willow crossed her arms over her chest and announced, “Ok, you’ve been obsessing over this man for years and I’m not going to let you do something you’ll regret later…like cancelling this date. Nope, not gonna happen. See? I’m wearing my Resolve face and you know what that means!”

Knowing she was defeated before she even began, Buffy smiled and said, “Fine, you win, but when this blows up in my face I’m so going to blame you.”

“I can accept that, mainly because nothing is going to go wrong. You’ll see, it’ll be fairytale perfect.” The feisty redhead opened her mouth to say something else, but snapped it shut at the sound of a knock at the door. Grinning madly, she flung open the door and announced, “I’ll get it!”

“No way, Wills! I’ll get the door; you go play invisible with Xander.” Buffy slid past Willow and pushed her down the hallway in the direction of their napping friend; waiting until she reluctantly disappeared into the bedroom before opening the door. “Hi!”

“Well, hello gorgeous!” Spike drawled, his British accent heavily noted. Instantly, his mood was brightened upon laying eyes on his chosen companion for the evening. Curvy in all the right places and sinfully sheathed in a lush plum colored ensemble, her breasts were tightly cinched and beckoning his attention beneath the constricting garment, just gazing lightly over Buffy’s body had his own responding immediately. “You’re absolutely breathtaking, luv.” He whispered as he leaned in to brush a kiss across her flushed cheek.

As the earth rumbled beneath her feet, her body set aflame by something as innocent as a peck on the cheek, Buffy’s heart jumped in anticipation of the remainder of the night. Head spinning in amazement, she murmured, “Ok, I’m gonna faint now.” With her eyes closed lightly to savor the moment, Buffy missed Spike’s reaction to her unintentionally spoken words and mustered up the courage to return the compliment, shakily saying, “You um…look really good, too.” This, of course, was an understatement since he was leaning more towards wicked indulgence instead of plain old ‘good’. Spike definitely fit the part of leading man, impeccably dressed in a specially designed black suit and a sapphire dress shirt, with several of the top buttons undone to give a teasing view of his chest.

“Thanks, kitten. So, you ready to leave then? You’re mates aren’t chomping at the bit to play the parental role and question me about m’intentions?” He teased as he cocked his elbow to escort Buffy.

“A world of no, they’ve been stuck in time out for the rest of the night. There will be no pestering from either of them, I’m all yours.” Buffy smiled brightly and slipped her hand delicately inside Spike’s elbow and allowed him to steer her in the direction of the elevators.

“All mine, is that right? Hmm…what ever will I do with you?” Spike replied saucily with a wink, earning a shocked expression and gasp from his date along with the most adorable blush of embarrassment. “Don’t worry, kitten…I’ll behave as long as you do.” Leading her inside the elevator, Spike chuckled as Buffy’s skin managed to deepen to a brighter shade of red. It was at that moment that he knew that tonight would be a night to remember.


*~*~*~*~*~

Languidly stretching her arms above her head, Buffy moaned as her stiff muscles groaned in protest. Head pounding, she scrubbed her hands over her face as she rolled over and opened her eyes, coming face to face with a very much asleep Spike. Eyes wide with shock, Buffy unconsciously held her breath as she scooted as far away from the slumbering celeb and desperately tried to recall the events from the night before.

Images flashed in her mind: laughing while eating dinner in the secluded garden, slot machines jingling loudly and lights that pulsated brightly as he taught her how to gamble in the casino and numerous glasses of the finest champagne. Inwardly groaning, Buffy realized that those few images was all she could conjure up in her mind. She had no idea how they ended up back in his hotel room and in his bed. It was at that moment she slowly lifted the silken sheets away from her body and confirmed that she was very much naked; yes, Buffy was in the buff, to say the least.

Seriously wanting to avoid any embarrassing situations, Buffy slowly detangled her self from the sheets and gingerly slid from the bed; immediately scanning the barely lit room for her clothes. Stealthily, she managed to locate each and every item, getting dressed in the process, except for her underwear. The specially purchased black and red, lace trimmed thong from the lingerie boutique which was extremely overpriced; there was no way she was leaving without her underwear. Plus the fact that in her book, sashaying out of hotel room, intensely hung-over with an extreme case of bed head was bad enough without having to do the Walk of Shame sans panties. All in all, this morning she was already mentally placing a big fat red check mark next to the ho-bag column next to her name.

After a rather exhaustive search for the thong in question, Buffy was about to give up when she noticed the elusive scrap of material poking out from underneath a pillow. Of course, they were not just beneath any old pillow. Nope, they had to be beneath Spike’s pillow; which he just happened to have his hands tightly gripped around. Realizing that she was in fact going to have to either wake him up or leave them behind, Buffy opted for door number two and quietly left the room.

Once she was tucked safely inside the brightly lit walls of the elevator, the full impact of the night before finally sank in and Buffy allowed the tears that had been teetering precariously on her lashes fall and slip down her flushed cheeks. By the time she reached her hotel room, sobs were wracking her body with full force and just getting the key into the lock proved to be too much of a challenge. Just as she was about to give up and slump down into the floor, she was rescued by a rumpled looking Willow, who immediately pulled Buffy inside the room and wrapped arms comfortingly around her shoulders without question.

“Thanks, Will.” Buffy sniffled, pulling away from Willow with a half smile. “I know you’re probably way more than curious about what happened, but can we not do the Q & A portion of the morning just yet?”

“Whenever you’re ready to tell me what happened, then I’ll be ready to take all the blame for it!” Willow replied with a guilty smile, “You know, since I wouldn’t let you back out at the last minute.”

“You are so not to blame for this, that’s going to fall solely on me. I do have one favor to ask.” She asked as she slipped out of the dress and noticed for the first time that the material around the zipper was ripped. ‘Damn, what the hell did we do?’ Glancing back up at Willow, she continued with a sheepish expression, “Could we leave early? Like as soon as I can take a much needed shower.”

“No prob, Bob. Anytime you’re ready, I just need some time to get Xan out of his sleep induced coma.”

“Thanks. I won’t be long, promise.” Buffy advised as she stepped underneath the hot spray and vigorously washed away the grimy feeling that coated her skin, along with the painful memories of ruining her perfect night.


**I know, I know...cliffhanger, but what did you expect? Hey, let me know?!?!**

At about the same time the trio of friends crossed over the Nevada state line into their home state of California, Spike was slowly regaining consciousness; lethargically stretching his limbs and scratching in a manly manner while forcing his eyes open. With a lazy half smile, Spike rolled over and reached for Buffy; only to be greeted with the cold feeling of an unoccupied bed. Sitting up quickly, he scanned the room, taking in the lack of personal items belonging to the female in question. For a minute he thought that maybe the entire night had been an illusion until he noticed the scrap of black lace peeking out from beneath his pillow; giving him a tantalizing memory of their final moments in bed.

“Bloody hell!” He exclaimed, generally surprised that he had been shafted by Buffy. While their date had started off rather slow, taking well over an hour to draw the petite blonde out of her shell, but the night had definitely heated up before dinner was even finished; ending up with them tumbling into his bed in a tangle of limbs.

Confused as to why she would have left at all, especially without saying goodbye, Spike crawled out of bed and walked across the bedroom to call her room; completely unconcerned about his lack of clothing while doing so. Leaning against the expensive looking desk, he shook a cigarette out of a nearby pack, lit it and inhaled deeply before picking up the phone and punching in the numbers to Buffy’s room. Irritation filled his veins as the call remained unanswered; the aggravating sounds of a shrill ring grated on his nerves. With a growl of frustration, he disconnected the line and called the front desk. When the annoyingly chipper sound of an obvious morning person came over the line, he asked for any information regarding the occupants of room two fourteen.

“Let’s see, Mr. Thorne,” The receptionist murmured while clacking away on the keyboard in front of her, “My records show that Ms. Summers and her guests checked out early at approximately half past eight.”

Glancing at a nearby digital clock, Spike noticed that the time was already nearing eleven in the morning and that Buffy was no doubt already long gone. “Thank you.” He ground out between clenched teeth and slammed the phone down on the receiver without waiting for the receptionist to disconnect first. Anger and irritation bubbled to the surface, tinting his normally pale cheeks with a fiery red tinge, as he puffed away on the cigarette and plotted what to do next.

Five minutes later, he was on the phone with his agent, Rupert Giles, who’s overly stuffy attitude was grating on Spike’s last nerve as he explained the situation at hand. “Look, Rupes, I don’t bloody well care what you have to do to find her…just do it!”

“William,” Rupert replied as calmly as possible, rather irritated that his client and nephew had interrupted his golf game. “I have every intention of locating this woman for you. All I am inquiring about is why your request is so urgent? I mean honestly, how many other women have you romanced and subsequently vanished the next morning? It seems to me that maybe you’re just getting a taste of your own medicine.”

“You’re right; I’ll give you that, old man.” Spike chuckled into the phone, finally releasing some of the tension within. “My karma has most certainly come back and bit me in the arse on this one, but there’s more to the story that I really do not want to get into over the phone. Do what you can to find her for me and have me on the first plane out of New York on Tuesday after my interview that morning.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with and get back to you, just don’t let this woman get so far under your skin that you can’t concentrate on your assignment. This interview is extremely important to your career, as well as the photo assignment the day before.” Rupert advised, mentally picturing the grimace on Spike’s face. “Rest up and don’t fret. I’ll contact you as soon as I know something.”

*~*~*~*~*~

For Buffy, the car ride home had been horrible, the combination of nausea from her hangover and the tension in the air made the five hour journey miserable. Thankfully, she had managed to doze fitfully in the backseat of Willow’s car for the most part and had been able to avoid the curious stares from the confused friends; both of which were being wonderful about her situation by letting her come to them on her own time and not bombarding Buffy with their questions.

Two days later, Buffy was back at work and firmly planted back into reality having pushed any thought of her weekend with Spike to the dark recesses of her mind. However, her plan kept slipping away as her memory fought to return and kept popping up with hazy details of her time with Spike that included an Olympic style event of sex-capades, a blur of champagne induced happiness and the confusing repeat image of Elvis serving them out of a drive thru window.

Pushing the latest image of Spike’s naked body out of her mind, Buffy forced herself to get back to work. Tonight was the last PTA meeting of the school year and she had several parents to meet with regarding their darling angel’s lack of performance. Flipping through each and every color coded file folder, she wrote necessary notes in the margins while tapping her foot against the floor in perfect rhythm with the current song playing on the tiny radio on her desk.

When she finished, Buffy was shocked to find out that she had worked right up to lunch and figured Willow, who taught computer science down the hall, would be at her office momentarily. Jumping out of the swivel chair, she headed to the back of the office to store the completed work in the file cabinets; needing to lock them up tight just in case a wayward student decided to investigate their records.

*~*~*~*~*~

After knocking on the closed door marked Guidance Counselor, Spike was shocked to hear a voice from the other side shout, “It’s open, Will….come on in!” Shrugging his shoulders, he briefly questioned how she knew it was him, wondering if maybe his little spitfire was a bit on the psychic side before stepping across the threshold of the brightly lit office with the false bravado of a celebrity who wasn’t use to being jilted by women.

Closing the door softly behind him, Spike took a few seconds to visually appreciate the sight before him; Buffy was leaning over a file cabinet, lost in thought as she hurriedly filed away papers, all dolled up for work in a sleek black pencil skirt that teasingly hugged her womanly figure and showcased her perfectly rounded ass and a short sleeve silk shirt the color of a full bodied merlot tucked in to accentuate her tiny waist. All in all, he was fairly certain that the male student body was very appreciative of the high school counselor. Just seeing Buffy again had his hormones running rampant and he had to mentally stamp out the flames that were building before he made a spectacle of himself in a high school. Remembering why he was there, focusing on the humiliation and pain of her disappearing act, Spike leaned against the door and waited for Buffy to turn around.

“I’ll be finished up in a sec, just have to put these files away.” Buffy announced without bothering to look up as she put the final folder in place. Locking the cabinet, she exclaimed, “Ok, all set for some lunchy goodness! Whatcha in the mood for to-ARG! What are you doing here?” Buffy shrieked in surprise, completely thrown off balance by the fact that Spike was standing where she thought Willow would be.

“ ‘s nice to see you, too, kitten.” Spike quipped as he slowly approached Buffy, who was frozen in place resembling a deer in head lights. Suddenly, just as he was about to be close enough to touch her, Buffy snapped out of her daze and stepped away from him; choosing to stand behind the relatively safe location behind the desk chair. Masking the hurt in his eyes with amusement, Spike held up his hands in mock surrender and stepped backwards towards the chairs lined up in front of her desk. “Right then, no greeting kisses then?”

“I…I’m just surprised is all. Not so much expecting you, I was waiting for Willow.” Buffy stammered, fidgeting with the ring on her finger in attempts to channel the nervous energy coursing through her body. Never in a million years did she ever think that Spike Thorne would show up in her town or any place she might be located; and yet, there he was standing in her office as if his presence there was the most logical thing in the world. Mustering up the courage to inquire about his visit, she asked, “Why are you here anyway?” Instantly cringing with shame as the tone of her voice sank in and realized how bitchy she sounded.

“What?” Spike questioned with feigned innocence, trying to stamp down his typical smartass comments; instantly irritated with the blonde’s attitude towards him. Flopping down in a nearby chair, he crossed his hands behind his head and glared up at Buffy with a crooked smile and asked, “Can’t a man visit his wife at work?”


Predictable, yes, I know, but funny!

“Your wife?” Buffy asked, blissfully ignorant for a split second before the implication of his words fully penetrated her brain. Suddenly, the air in the room seemed to thicken, the air grew hot and stifling, and the walls surrounding them started closing in as she struggled for something to say. Finally, after several moments of deafening silence, she settled for, “Me? Your wife, as in we made with the marriage? That’s just…ridiculous…right?”

Shocked by Buffy’s reaction, Spike furrowed his brow and scrutinized the wide-eyed blonde and said, “Well, luv, according to the marriage license in m’car, not so ridiculous it seems.” Pushing out of the uncomfortable arm chair, he sauntered closer to Buffy; keeping his pace nice and slow as to not startle her again. As he rounded the cheaply designed metal workstation, trailing one finger slowly across the cold desktop, Spike took in the distress and confusion in her liquid emerald gaze and asked, “Are you trying to tell me that you don’t remember our nuptials, pet? Was I truly that unmemorable?”

Chewing on her bottom lip, Buffy allowed herself to sink into the awaiting chair and nervously twisted the skull shaped ring on her left hand; finally putting two and two together. Images of Elvis burned in her memory, laughter and novelty rings exchanged as they fell back onto the plush seats of the limousine. “Mr. Buffy?” She asked timidly, gazing up at Spike behind moistened eyelashes, a tiny smile emerging at the usage of the special name she had given Spike between a barrage of passion filled kisses.

“Yes, Mrs. Spike?” Spike replied saucily, pleased that Buffy was taking the news so well. Staring down at her, he took in her saddened eyes and worried expression that covered up the hint of happiness that barely flickered across her lovely face. Dropping to his knees in front of her, Spike placed a hand on her reddened cheeks and whispered, “Don’t cry, luv…there’s nothing to be upset about.” Leaning forward, he placed a feather light kiss to the tip of her adorably cute button nose, pulling back when her body began to shake with uncontrollable sobs. “Wha’s the matter?”

“What’s the m-matter?!” Buffy cried out between gulps of air as she desperately tried to push the tears away. Wiping her eyes furiously, she stammered, “I was suppose…to…to…get m-married with my f-family and f-friends there and…and in a p-pretty place with flowers and NO Elvis…and not be all drunk!” Sniffling loudly, Buffy face flushed a brighter red when her sobs turned to hiccups and ducked her head to hide her embarrassment; twisting the ring furiously.

At a loss for words, an occurrence that was a rarity in Spike’s life, he stared down at her hands and realized what she was toying with. Reaching out, he took her tiny hand in his and chuckled; quickly sobering to explain his laughter at Buffy’s furious gaze, “‘s not exactly what one would consider the perfect way to represent unending devotion, yeah?” Spike asked rhetorically, fingering the cheaply designed skull shaped ring. “Guess the first order of business will be to buy you an appropriate wedding ring, kitten.”

“You want to buy me a wedding ring?” Buffy inquired; a puzzled look on her face. Furrowing her brow with confusion, a trait that Spike was quickly becoming enamored with, she mustered up the courage to ask, “Why would you want to do that? I mean, don’t you want to have this…annulled or something? You’re a handsome man. Sexy Celebrity and whatnot, you could have any woman you wanted.”

“That’s why I’ve chosen you, Buffy.” Spike replied with a husky voice, deepened with lust and longing for the blonde vixen perched in front of him. Their eyes connected, hers a swirling vortex of jade colored emotion that penetrated his cerulean pools of desire to the core leaving him panting and full of yearning to experience the pleasures of her flesh once again. Hypnotized by her nearness and engulfed in the scent of strawberries and sunshine, Spike leaned forward and closed his eyes in anticipation of drowning in her embrace.

Buffy’s heart was jack hammering in her chest, thumping so loudly that the sound echoed in her ears and she was sure that Spike could not only sense her nervousness, but hear it as well. Throat clenched with anticipation, mouth dry with a heady combination of fear and desire, her eyes drifted shut as her body leaned forward as if by its own volition; driven by the need to feel his lips upon hers once again. Her senses were filled with the innate maleness of Spike, a stimulating combination of musk, leather and cigarettes. Mind swirling with longing and passion, her fingers clasped tightly around his forearms, fingernails digging into just hard enough to no doubt leave a smattering of crescent shaped indentions. Although her eyes were wrenched shut, Buffy could sense the moment his lips neared hers; his breath warm against her skin. Panting lightly, she parted her lips slightly; moaning with pleasure as his lips brushed against hers teasingly. Whimpering softly at the lack of contact, Buffy scooted forward in search of pleasure, only to be jerked back to reality at the sound of someone entering the silent room.

“Sorry I’m late, Buffy! Oh!” Willow announced loudly, screeching to a halt with her jaw dropped in surprise. “Hey! What’s he doing here? I thought we hated him?”

Cocking his eyebrow, Spike stood up quickly and asked, “And why would she mad at me, Red? I’m fairly certain I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Because Buffy was all cranky and teary when she left you and wouldn’t talk, that’s why. She’d have to be pretty upset not to tell her best friend what went wrong. What did you do to her anyway?” Willow demanded, glaring at Spike most intimidating face and squaring up to the actor with her hands on her hips. Her temper instantly flamed higher when the peroxide blonde’s face broke into a smile and erupted in a fit of laughter. “What!?”

“Um…yeah. Wills you might want to sit down first.” Buffy suggested, scooting her chair back a little bit to stand up, she graciously accepted Spike’s offered hand before doing so. Smiling giddily at him, she turned back to her confused best friend, who was refusing to sit down as recommended, and calmly stated, “I wasn’t mad at Spike the other morning, I was…embarrassed, to say the least. I was on this fantastic date with Spike of all people and I ended up getting sloshed and forgetting the whole thing. When I woke up, I panicked and skedaddled out of his room, not wanting to risk further shame by doing the morning after chat. So, you see? I was ashamed of my behavior, not Spike’s. From what I can recall, he was the perfect gentleman all night.”

“Ok, so you were all Red-faced Buffy, got it. But, that doesn’t explain why he’s here now.” Willow replied with her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she turned to regard Spike directly. “Was your ego bruised that much that you felt the need to track her down or what?”

“I like you, Red.” Spike chuckled good-naturedly. Reaching out, he wrapped his arm around Buffy’s shoulder and pulled her close. “So, kitten, you want to spread the good news or shall I?”

“Guess that’d be up to me, huh? Willow being my friend and all.” Buffy concluded, taking a deep breath and preparing herself mentally for the bombshell she was about to drop. Holding her left hand out with an enthusiastic smile plastered across her face, she brightly announced, “We got married!”

As predicted, Willow’s jaw dropped faster than a piano tossed over a balcony, leaving her mouth gaped open in shock as she remained frozen in place and blankly stared at the blondes grinning at her like a pair of mental patients. Finally, she managed to pull herself together and gather her wits, looking the picture of perfect calm, before startling Buffy and Spike by screaming, “YOU GOT MARRIED?!”

“Who got married?” Someone asked from the doorway, following up with a, “Miss Summers, did you get married?”

Leaning to the side, to see around Willow, Buffy’s eyes widened when she found a wide eyed student hovering in the doorway. “Doesn’t anyone knock around here?” She muttered, stepping away from Spike’s side.

“I knocked, pet.” He replied snarkily, earning a glare from Buffy before she stepped around the desk and approached the lanky brunette teenager.

“No, Amanda…no one got married. You must have heard wrong.” She stated calmly, “Is there something you needed? Our meeting isn’t scheduled until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh, yeah…I know, but I wanted to tell you that I got my letter from Har-Oh My God! Miss Summers, do you know who is in your office? Spike Thorne is right there!” Amanda shrieked loudly, a level of noise only a teenage girl could achieve. Before anyone of the adults in the room could tell the excited girl to calm down and lower her voice, she darted out of the room while screeching, “I so have to go tell Janice!”

“Oh, this is so very much not of the good.” Buffy announced with a grim tone to her voice, “Do either of you know how bad that was?”

“You guys need to vamoose! Like quickly, before she makes it to the lunch room.” Willow jumped into action, closing and locking the office door to ensure no one else wandered in while they were busy with the escape plan.

“Come on, now. Can’t be all that bad, yeah?” Spike asked, seriously wondering how a town as small as Sunnydale could host a school that held enough girls to pose a problem. “’s just goin’ to be a few birds, nothin’ to get our knickers in a knot about.”

“A few birds? I’m just going to assume you’re talking about a girl; which means you have no idea how volatile teenage girls can be.” Buffy informed him, “You do realize you’re standing in the Mecca of teenage civilization, right? Just down the hallway, like less than a hundred yards from here, there is a very large amount of hormone crazed, Spike Thorne obsessed girls on the edge of womanhood that will mob you like a swarm of flies on a mid-summer picnic. If word gets out that you are here, you are royally screwed with only me and Willow for bodyguards.”

“Right then, pet…what’s the plan?” Spike conceded, instantly regretting his decision when she turned her gaze away from him and looked towards the window at the back of the office. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“It’s the only viable exit strategy. If you go out the front door, you have to pass the north entrance to the cafeteria; which we decided you need to not be. It can’t be that bad, you shimmy out and skedaddle to your car and wait for me.” Feeling very smart by her quickly made decision, Buffy smiled brightly and started ushering Spike towards the window.

“Uh-huh, you’re sure this isn’t a brilliant scheme for you to ditch me again?” Spike grumbled, eyeballing the smallish window with barely contained disgust.

Blushing, Buffy had the decency to look ashamed by her previous abandonment and said, “Yeah, ok…I deserved that. Now out, Mister! We don’t have much time.” As if to punctuate the urgency in her warning, the sound of a herd of hormonal teenage girls could be heard in the hallway. “Oh crap!”

“Looks like you’re going to be using this escape hatch with me, kitten.” Spike replied smugly as he slid out the opened window and landed on the ground with a thump. Turning back to face Buffy, he held out his arms and said, “Hurry up, not much time left before they attack.”

“But I can’t crawl through the window! Have you seen what I have on today? There is no way I can maneuver myself through there in this skirt!” Buffy cried in panic.

“Buffy, figure it out! They’re right outside the door. I don’t think I can hold them off by myself.” Willow informed them, leaning against the wooden door in attempts to keep them from breaking it down as if her petite frame could hold off the flock.

“Fine, but if I rip my skirt…” Buffy muttered, leaving the threat off her comment as she squatted down and perched on the windowsill as delicately as possible before wiggling through the opening into Spike’s outstretched arms. “My hero.” She joked as he held onto her while she slid to the ground.

“Anytime, kitten, anytime. Now, where’s your car?”

“I don’t drive.” Buffy informed him with a sheepish grin, “Not so great behind the wheel. Mind if I hitch a ride with you? You did drive here, right?”

“No, luv…I teleported myself.” Spike replied, taking her hand he tugged her in the direction of the car he rented at the airport. “Come on, you’re chariot waits.”

As they hurried towards the parking lot, a frantic Willow calmed herself down enough to open the door and greet the teenagers that had gathered en masse on the other side of the office door. At their puzzled expressions, she asked, “May I help you ladies with something?”

“Where’s Spike?” Several of the girls shouted, their hopeful expressions making Willow feel about an inch tall for hiding their idol from them.

“Yeah, I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but there’s no one but me here. See?” Stepping to the side, Willow allowed them to peek inside Buffy’s office to see that she wasn’t lying to them. Satisfied that they were satisfied, she stepped out of the counselor’s office and announced, “I’m pretty sure you all have somewhere else to be.” Giving them her best Teacher-face, Willow watched as they disappeared down the hallway with dejected looks on their pretty faces before heading towards her own classroom.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A short car ride later, the newlyweds were sitting awkwardly on the cranberry colored couch in Buffy’s living room. The carefree mood they had worked up to had been seriously ruined after Willow and Amanda’s untimely arrival, and then further wrecked by the hordes of female students that had befallen her office afterwards.

“So…” Buffy muttered, leaving the sentence hanging since she didn’t know what to say. “Um…you want anything to drink?”

“No thanks, pet. I’m fine.” Spike replied, cocking his head to study Buffy and wondered why she was so nervous all of the sudden. “You all right?”

“Yeah, I mean…I don’t know. I guess it’s just really setting in that we’re married, maybe?” Buffy admitted, looking down at the child’s toy that was meant to be her wedding ring. “Did you really mean that you want to stay married?”

Sliding off the couch, Spike positioned himself on his knees in front of Buffy and held her shaking hands in his. “Buffy, I know it seems crazy when I say that I do want to be married to you. We barely know one another and yet, there’s something about you that draws me in. If there’s any chance that this could work out, that you are the one that I am supposed to be with…then I don’t want to ruin it by giving up too soon.

“I’m thirty-two years old and have only been in one serious relationship, which in the end, it turned out that I was the only one invested in. After that, I was too hurt and angry to trust another soul with my heart, which has led to nothing but loneliness. M’not going to lie to you, princess…I’ve spent years filling that void with random women, an act that I’m not proud of and has gotten me absolutely nowhere. I’m tired of being that man, I want to be better…I want to be happy and loved and most of all, be with you.” Spike spilled his guts, laying it all on the line as he tried to prove to Buffy that he really and truly wanted to be with her. As he gazed into her worried eyes, his were filled with need and shining with hope, he thought that maybe it wasn’t enough, that she wasn’t going to accept his plea to stay together.

“This is seriously insane. You realize that, right?” Buffy finally said, her voice wobbling with her nervousness. “We’re going to get decent rings, please tell me I don’t actually have to wear a skull ring forever?”

Relief washed over him as what seemed like the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. Chuckling, he leaned back enough to reach inside his jeans pocket and pulled out what he had stuffed in there that morning. “New rings will be the first item on the agenda since mine doesn’t fit.” Holding his hand out, he showed her the small piece of bright blue plastic before slipping it on his pinkie finger. “See? Blasted thing barely fits on m’pinkie finger.”

“Is that a decoder ring?” Buffy managed to ask between giggles. The sight of one of Hollywood’s hottest celebrities on his knees in her living room wearing a child’s secret decoder ring and professing his need to stay married to her, it was just too surreal.

“I know you aren’t laughing at me, little girl.” Spike all but growled as he shot forward to tickle her ribs mercilessly. In a matter of seconds, he was lying on the couch next to her and had Buffy huffing and puffing, red-faced with laughter and begging for him to stop. Stilling his hands, but keeping them firmly planted on against her sides, Spike watched as she tried to calm her breathing; chest heaving to strained against the silken material of her shirt, her nipples hardened and poked forward to tease him and her breathless pants had his cock straining painfully against the cold metal of his pants zipper. Leaning down, he took her by surprise and captured her lips in a passionate embrace.

Moaning against the soft skin of his lips, Buffy’s mind swirled with desire and her body ached longing and lust as his hands slipped beneath her shirt and her flesh seared with heat upon first contact. Wiggling beneath his form, she reached down to pull her skirt up to allow Spike to settle between her legs; pressing his hardened desire against her aching center, sending streaks of burning fire through her body.

Time was lost as their embrace deepened, their hands groping furiously as they desperately tried to remove their clothing without losing contact with one another. Buffy’s skirt was bunched around her waist and her shirt was unbuttoned and her breasts were proudly on display after Spike had pushed aside the lace material that covered them to suckle the rosy flesh that was peaked with desire. Spike’s shirt had been shed long ago, allowing Buffy to savor the feel of his muscles rippling beneath her touch, his skillfully gelled hair was loosened and tousled from her fingers grasping and running through the soft strands.

Buffy reached between them and frantically began struggling with the shiny silver buckle of his black leather belt, desperate to feel him buried inside her heated body. Tugging unsuccessfully at the offending garment, her hands too shaky to accomplish the otherwise simple task of removing a belt, Buffy groaned in frustration and was about to make Spike take it off himself when the sound of the doorbell ringing shrilly disturbed their make out session.

“Pretend you’re not here.” Spike breathed into her ear as he nibbled along the tender flesh in attempts to distract her from the sudden visitor. “Stay with me, kitten.”

“I’m not leaving you, but I really need to answer that.” Buffy finagled her way out of his strong hold, adjusted her clothes and somehow managed to not cave in and crawl back onto the couch and Spike’s very convincing pout. “That’s not fair.”

“Don’t bloody play fair.” Spike retorted, reaching out in attempts to grab hold of Buffy and drag her back down onto him.

“Behave.” She swatted at his hand playfully and danced out of his grasp, laughing as she stumbled over to the door. Checking once more to make sure she was decent, Buffy pulled open the door and exclaimed, “Riley!”

“Riley! What are you doing here?” Buffy exclaimed, clearly surprised by her afternoon visitor. Glancing down, she noticed that the hulking football coach was clutching a bouquet of wildflowers in his meaty, oversized hand. Confused by his presence, she did a quick mental checklist of things to do that week and her eyes widened as she realized that she had agreed to an early dinner, after many weeks of pestering, before the PTA meeting that night.

“You forgot?” Riley Finn stated, obvious disappointment shadowed his face and his bulky frame seemed to shrink inwards at the rejection. The former record holding college football player, who had accepted a teaching position at his alma matter after a serious knee injury ruined his chances of playing in the professional field, had been chasing after the charming counselor for weeks, if not months, for a date; whooping for joy in private when she finally conceded and agreed to a quick dinner before the biannual parent and teacher conference. While he knew that Buffy wasn’t overly enamored by his pursuit, the cocky brunette figured she would give in to his All-American charm eventually and realize they were perfect for one another. However, judging by the grim expression on the pretty girl’s face, he figured that their impending love was clearly not written in the stars. Shoving the already wilting flowers outward, he mumbled, “We had plans to try out the new Italian place over on Main Street before the meeting, remember?”

Blushing furiously, Buffy considered taking the offered flowers, all the while cutting her eyes to the left in search of the rumbled and very amorous man eyeballing her from the couch with a mix of obvious curiosity and slight amusement, and instantly dismissed the idea of accepting Riley's gift. Her green eyes widened with shock when he pushed off the couch and swaggered across the living room towards her, still very much in a state of half-undress with his shirt off, belt dangling open and top button of his jeans undone to show a very mouth watering sight of honey colored hair that disappeared in a trail beneath the black material. Holding up her hand behind the door, she motioned for him to stop and tried to convey the same message with her eyes; clearly failing, since Spike continued his journey, but this time his gaze was seductive and his tongue was curled over his teeth in a very predatory way that was seriously turning Buffy on.

Focusing her attention back to the visitor on the stoop, Buffy stammered for a bit trying to come up with a polite way to turn the sweet, but annoying man, down gently. “Riley, I...uh, I’m very sorry, but something’s popped up and I won’t be able to make it to dinner.” She tried her best to appear sheepish, but when Riley’s face clouded over with something more akin to anger and less like disappointment, she decided it best to hurry up and remove herself from the likely embarrassing situation and said, “I apologize, but something really has come up that needs my attention. You understand, right?”

“Come up? What does that even mean, Buffy?” Riley ground out, clutching his fists at his sides. Nothing irritated him more than being stood up on a date, except maybe losing a game. “What could have possibly come up since Friday afternoon?”

Standing on the other side of the front door, Spike snarled at the blubbering idiot that was pestering his girl, but when the tone of the conversation took a turn for the worse, he could no longer stop himself from reacting. Stepping around the wooden barrier, Spike grabbed an unsuspecting Buffy by the waist, circling his thin, but clearly well muscled arms around her tiny center to lift her slightly off the ground and answered Riley’s questions with a saucy grin. “That’d be me, mate! I’m up, very up if you catch m’meaning.” Waggling his eyebrows at the dumbfounded and upset fool, Spike continued, “Buffy’s got to go, got herself another play date. Bugger off!”

Kicking the door shut with his foot, Spike turned and pressed Buffy firmly against it, causing her to cry out in surprise; giggling at his antics, yet moaning deeply with desire at his gruff, animalistic visage. Growling low in his throat, he attacked her neck with sexual gusto; licking and teasing, nibbling and suckling along the soft column until Buffy was putty in his arms.

On the other side of fading hunter green painted wood, their dismissed guest stood rooted in place; shame over being rejected and anger at being tossed aside as if he was no better than yesterday's garbage. Red faced and steaming mad, Riley scowled at the closed barrier and listened with seething rage as the woman he wanted was mauled like a piece of meat on the other side. Buffy's cries of passion and moans of sheer pleasure taunted him, called to his baser male instincts, causing his nether regions to stand at painful attention. However, his proper upbringing and decent moral code caused his mind to reel and stomach churn with disgust at the lack of respect that man had for someone as pure and beautiful as his Buffy. Prepared to break down the door and, in his warped mind, defend her honor, Riley stepped forward only to halt at the animalistic cry of passion that ripped from his beloved's throat; leaving him to imagine all sorts of sordid details in his mind. Huffing loudly, he tossed the rejected flowers to the ground and hurried off in a irritated whirlwind; crushing the multicolored assortment of spring flowers beneath his heel.

Panting heavily from their impromptu make out session, Buffy pulled away from Spike's embrace at the same time Riley slammed his car door with obvious frustration and brought her back to reality. “Spike, that was so not nice!” She chastised, not doing a very good job at it since giggles were slipping out between the words. “I mean, the Riley stuff, not the kissage...because that was amazing."

“Git had it coming to him...trying to seduce m’wife and all. Now, where were we, kitten?” Spike growled as he dropped down to kneel in front of her and slid his hands up her thighs to linger briefly at her waist. Not wasting anytime, too afraid that someone else might stop by, Spike unzipped the extremely wrinkled skirt, tossing it to the floor without taking his eyes off Buffy, before hooking his fingers around the lace trimmed sides of her thong and flipping them over his shoulder.

Bare to Spike's hungry gaze, Buffy momentarily felt like a panther's prey before the thought was pushed out of her mind when his tongue darted out and traced along the edges of her neatly trimmed pussy. His hands caressed her legs softly as he ghosted them over the tops of her quivering thighs before settling on the heated flesh just below her aching apex; pushing ever so insistently against the soft skin to get her to widen her stance.

“That’s m’girl, open wide for me.” Spike murmured as Buffy stepped her legs apart to allow better access. Kissing along her inner thigh, he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of her arousal that seeped from her core; which was already wet and glistening in the faint afternoon light seeping in through the windows. Licking his lips hungrily, Spike slid his finger across her sensitive slit, grinning seductively when she gasped loudly and bucked against him. “Like that, pet?”

“Mmm…very much so.” Buffy muttered around a throaty moan of desire, barely able to form any coherent thoughts as Spike delved his tongue between her thighs and lapped along her pussy. Her eyes slid shut in sheer ecstasy as tingles seared through her lower body until her loins were a blaze with need. She gasped with a combination of surprise and pleasure when Spike eased one finger inside her pussy, masterfully circling the chamber slowly and skillfully pumping them in and out while matching the strokes he made with each swipe of his tongue.

Her release took her by surprise, shattering the earth around her and sending her head crashing backwards into the door with a very audible thwack. Buffy kept her eyes shut tightly and opened her mouth wide in a silent scream of delight as she fisted her hands in Spike’s hair, pressing his mouth closer to her throbbing center to ride out the aftershocks. She whimpered with satisfaction and murmured incoherently, “Mmm…that was…superb.”

“Superb, huh?” Spike chuckled, licking his lips of her juices before nipping at the sensitive area of skin at the juncture of her trembling thighs; barely fazing the dreamy eyed girl standing above him.

“Yep, superb…as in awesome or wonderful, pretty much covers the whole span of greatness.” Buffy muttered; sliding down the door into a boneless heap of bliss in Spike’s awaiting arms. “Boy good.”

Spike couldn’t contain the bright smile that filled his face as Buffy snuggled into his arms, seeming perfectly content even though they were practically sprawled across the floor in the foyer. Glancing down, he brushed a kiss across the crown of her head and offered, “How ‘bout I carry you to your room? This can’t be comfortable for you, luv.”

“Mmm, that sounds like a good idea.” Buffy whispered against his bare chest, cherishing the peaceful feeling that was washed over her as she rested in his arms. She knew deep down that their current situation, relationship wise and not the fact that they were perched on the floor, should seriously bother her. However, Buffy just couldn’t bring herself to worry about that right now; which may or may not have something to do with the mind-blowing talents of his tongue. Deciding not to dwell on anything other than that moment, Buffy held up her arms and waited patiently for Spike to pick her up and tote her up the stairs to the bedroom; not caring one bit that she was completely naked from the waist down.

Guided by Buffy’s directions, Spike easily found his way to her bedroom at the end of the hallway, maneuvered his way through the doorway and laid her gently on the sage and cream plush comforter before crawling in beside her. Leaning down, Spike kissed the tip of her button nose and declared, “You’re definitely overdressed.”

Blushing furiously, Buffy pointed at his pants and said, “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk.” Sitting up, she playfully started tugging on the black material and exclaimed, “Off with you!” Her face grew even redder when her request was granted, leaving Spike stark naked and obviously very much excited. His cock jutted out proudly from the honey colored thatch of curls it was nestled in. “Oh, my!” She gasped, not quite sure what to do with one so…large. While she knew that they had had sex before, the pleasurable ache between her legs instantly alerting her to their actions, she still had very few memories of their one date and was all of the sudden reminded of their current predicament.

Instantly reminded of how much they truly did not know about one another, Buffy’s sexual bravado quickly faded, leaving only a bashful blonde in its wake. Pulling the afghan from the bottom of the bed over her bare lap, Buffy chewed her thumbnail nervously before forcing herself to look into Spike’s worried gaze.

“Wha’s wrong, pet?” He asked, reaching out he took one of her hands in his and soothingly rubbed circles on the palm.

“I…uh…it’s just that…maybe we’re moving too fast or something. Ugh, I don’t know!” Exasperated, she let out a sigh of frustration and wished she were better at discussing her feelings. “It’s weird, cause I know we’ve had sex before, but I don’t remember that part and now it’s kinda like it’s our first time and all. And...I…” Letting her words drift into nothingness, she shied away from Spike’s touch and avoided his intense gaze. “I’m just having a hard time adjusting to all of this, I guess.”

“By this, you mean being married?” Spike inquired, standing up to slip back into his jeans before returning to the bed beside Buffy; knowing full well that what they had intended to do in the dimly lit bedroom had been pushed aside.

“Well, duh! If someone had told me yesterday that today I’d be married to you, I would have laughed to death. And, yet! Here we are, all joined in wedded bliss and it’s giving me a serious case of the wiggins! I just can’t understand why you’re so freakin’ calm about it! I mean, who wakes up married to a complete stranger, doesn’t remember actually getting hitched, and acts like everything’s peachy with a side of keen?”

Spike knew that her calm demeanor, or as collective as one could be in her situation could be, would eventually crack. He was in a much better place than she was, having had well over forty eight hours to let the news sink in and settle. Deciding to let Buffy in on a little secret, which would most likely be enough to explain why he wasn’t as freaked out by their dilemma as she was, Spike admitted, “I remember our date, Buffy, from the moment I picked you up all the way to the final moments before you drifted off to sleep.”

“You remember our date? But you drank more than I did, didn’t you?” Buffy asked, letting the new information sink in and came to the revelation, “But that would mean…No, it couldn’t mean that? If you remember, then that means…you meant to marry me?”

Taking her hands in his, Spike kissed her fingertips and replied with nothing but honesty, “It was spontaneous, I admit, but I’ve never been surer of anything in m’life. I said ‘I do’ and meant it, luv.”

From last chapter:

Taking her hands in his, Spike kissed her fingertips and replied with nothing but honesty, “It was spontaneous, I admit, but I’ve never been surer of anything in m’life. I said ‘I do’ and meant it, luv.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Silence permeated the bedroom, hazily lit by the last remaining rays of afternoon sunshine as the day slowly bled into night. Buffy’s anxiety thickened the air with her unsaid distress as the ramifications of Spike’s confession sank in. Clutching the faded green afghan tightly in her tiny fists and stared into his beautiful cerulean eyes, filled with questions as he waited patiently for a response. Taking a deep and hopefully courage boosting breath, Buffy finally said, “I don’t know what to do with that.”

Spike’s patience and understanding about flew out the proverbial window, but somehow he managed to reign in his annoyance with her avoidance and calmly say, “Look, I understand that you will need some time to…process what’s happened between us. I blind sighted you this afternoon with the news of our marriage, but honestly…I thought you knew and that’s why you ran away that morning. And, I can admit that it must be a bit odd finding out that I was aware of …”

“Odd?! That’s all you can say? It’s odd!” Buffy interrupted with an incredulous shriek, practically propelling herself off the bed with the blanket wrapped securely around her waist and instantly started pacing the floor near the bed. “I could have been some freaking stalker chick who wanted nothing more than to lure you into bed and I don’t know…sue you or something, or get myself pregnant and all you can say is that it’s ODD!” Growling in frustration, Buffy threw her hands up in disgust before realizing that that one single act of irritation and annoyance had caused the makeshift skirt that the blanket had served to slide down her legs. Quickly, face enflamed with embarrassment and fueled by the fire of anger, Buffy’s arms flailed in attempts to grasp the frayed edge of the afghan and secure it tightly at her waist while backing in the direction of the master bathroom. “Um…excuse me.”

Chuckling at Buffy’s embarrassed antics, Spike cocked an eyebrow at her open mouthed expression of shock and replied in an amused tone, “Why so shy, pet? ‘s not like my face wasn’t buried between those lovely thighs barely an hour ago.”

Buffy’s eyes grew wide and her skin flushed an even deeper red as she tried to think of a witty retort to Spike’s lewd comment; huffing loudly when nothing came to mind, she disappeared into the darkened bathroom and slammed the door. Leaning against the cool wood, she scrunched her eyes shut tightly and mentally coerced the anger to retreat. Thankfully, it did…slowly, but surely. When the adrenaline filled rush of anger slowed to a dull roar inside her body, Buffy sank to the bathroom floor in sheer exhaustion; confused and upset. Her mind couldn’t process the fact that not only that she and Spike were married, but that he had completed the act with full intent. Why would one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, possibly even the world, want to marry a virtual nobody? A small town woman who counseled high school children on their grades and possible college choices? What could a prime-time hunk like Spike hope to gain from forging a union with a woman he barely knew?

Legs huddled close to her chest in a protective manner; Buffy sighed heavily and sank her head down on her knees and tried to make sense of the daunting questions that swirled around in her mind. Time slipped away from her as she fought to gain some insight into the mind of the man who had quickly seduced her body and who was slowly trying to win her heart. As the sun finally slipped past the horizon, the bathroom was pitched into near darkness, save only for the butterfly shaped nightlight tucked safely into the corner of the room. Suddenly, the sharp thwack of knuckles against the door jarred Buffy from her thoughts.

“I realize that you’re most likely getting a kick out of hiding from me, luv, but you’d better get that lovely arse of yours into gear ‘cause you’ve got someplace to be in less than an hour.” Spike leaned against the door and chuckled lightly at Buffy’s highly expletive response, slightly muffled due to the thick wooden barrier between their bodies. “Get yourself presentable and I’ll drive you there. Wouldn’t want you to be late and need reprimanding, yeah?”

Buffy scowled at herself in the mirror, taking in the disheveled hair and less than noticeable makeup that had obviously been rubbed off during their session of heavy petting downstairs. When Spike’s last remark finally penetrated her mind enough to realize that it was laden with sexual innuendo, her scowl deepened and she mentally cursed her body for clenching with anticipation and heady desire at the thought of being reprimanded by him personally. Growling in annoyance, she snatched a brush from the countertop and hastily repaired the damage that Spike’s lips and hands had caused. Within minutes, she had her golden tresses cinched in a low bun and the mascara smudges removed from underneath her eyes. After adding a quick swipe of blush to her cheeks and rose tinged gloss to her still slightly kiss-swollen lips, she tightened her grip on the blanket and opened the bathroom door.

Avoiding eye contact with the half dressed man that lounged comfortably on her rumpled bed, his body languidly sprawled across the comforter like a satisfied feline, Buffy hurried to her closet while saying, “Thanks for the uh…reminder, I sorta well…forgot about it, really.”

“’s not a problem, kitten…that’s what husbands do, right?” Spike replied with a teasing lilt to his words, instantly lighting the fuse that led straight to the bomb that was Buffy’s temper. Holding his hands up in mock surrender when Buffy threw a heated glance full of ire in his direction, he quickly added, “M’apologies, I’ll refrain from using the mister and missus titles until you’ve come to terms with them.”

“That’d be a good idea.” Buffy remarked with a threatening glint in her fiery eyes. Reaching into the closet, she rooted around and shoved clothes out of the way for several minutes before settling on a pair of creamy dress slacks and a scoop necked blouse in sage and turned around to face Spike again with a pointed look. “Um, do you mind?”

“Mind? No, not at all…carry on with what you’re doing.” He replied saucily, letting her know that he was enjoying the show and to continue on with the undressing.

“Are you always this…perverted, or am I getting special treatment today?” Buffy spat back quickly, instantly cringing as soon as she said it and noticed the mischievous glint in his sparkling eyes. Sighing, she resigned and said, “Go ahead, I deserve it after that.”

“What?” He asked with the most irritatingly innocent smile that he could possible manage, “I haven’t got a clue what you could possibly think I would say.”

“Oh, I don’t know…something stupid and lewd like you’ll give me all the special treatment I need or whatever.” She muttered, ducking her head shyly and all of the sudden feeling very much like a bug under a microscope as Spike stared at her with a Would I do that? look on his face. “Yes, you would say something like that, so don’t try to play all sweet and innocent, mister.” One look back into his baby blues and Buffy’s body was instantly on alert as he prowled to the edge of the bed and cocked his head to one side, appreciatively eyeballing her from head to toe with his tongue curled seductively behind his lip; reminding her nether regions of exactly what that naughty appendage had made her feel just a short while ago. She knew she should retreat back into the safety of the bathroom, but couldn’t muster up the motivation to make her feet take her there.

He crawled off the bed, mimicking the feline grace of a predator eyeballing its prey and stalked across the bedroom to stand in front of her; his body barely a breath away from where she stood, body trembling with anticipation. Suddenly, with a quickness that couldn’t be normal for a mere mortal, Spike pressed his hands against the closet door and imprisoned her between his arms. Her heart rate increased exponentially just being near him, her breath slowed into brief pants as she literally forced herself to breath in his presence. Buffy’s legs shook with desire as an ache that bordered on painful built to a throbbing crescendo at the apex of her thighs and she pressed them tightly together in hopes that the contact would ease the throbbing need.

Dipping his head, Spike nibbled along the sweetly scented soft skin of her neck just below the earlobe and relished in the kittenish mewling sounds that escaped Buffy’s mouth. “Sure you’ve got to go, luv?” Spike whispered against her neck, his lips ghosting over the pulsating vein that lay just below the creamy skin causing an involuntary shudder to course through Buffy’s body and ultimately shake her out of the delicious stupor he had worked her into.

“I…I have to go…meetings.” Buffy stammered, ducking under his outstretched arms and dashing to the bathroom without looking back; never seeing the look of longing and regret that filled his gaze.

A few minutes later, she emerged from the sanctuary of the bathroom and cautiously entered the bedroom. “I’ve gotta go. Um…what are your…plans? I mean, are you staying somewhere else or…”

“Really just flying by the seat of m’pants today, I guess. Didn’t really have m’itinerary planned out.” Spike pushed himself off the bed, fully dressed now which meant he must have went back downstairs to gather the discarded clothes from the living room floor. “C’mon, kitten, I’ll drive you.”

“I…uh, need some time alone right now, so I thought I’d walk. It’s only a couple of blocks, not like I don’t do it most days anyway.” Buffy informed him as she slowly backed out of the bedroom. “Can you maybe just stay here? I won’t be too long and we still need to make with the talkage about what’s going on. We can order in or something.” Buffy watched his shoulders drop in defeat and felt something inside wilt at the sight of the look on his face. Feeling bad about putting such a sad look on that beautiful face, Buffy halted her backwards escape and eased closer to where he stood in the center of the room. Softly, she said, “I’m scared, ok…and, sadly, sometimes…no most of the time when I am afraid of something I run away from it. I don’t really understand what’s going on between us, we barely know one another and we end up married and I don’t know what to do now. I want to run away from you, but I can’t…you make me feel things that…well, that no one else has.” Sighing, she placed a hand on his chest and stared up into his eyes, “What I’m trying to say so very much non-eloquently is that I need some time to figure this out for myself. I’m just asking for a little bit of patience.”

Spike released the breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding during Buffy’s speech and smiled brightly. “Anything you want, luv…anything at all. Though, you just had to go and ask for the one thing I’ve never been known for, patience has never been m’strong point, but I’m quickly learning that I’d do anything for you, luv.” Reaching out, he pulled her into his arms and brushed a kiss across her lips before saying, “Now, if you’re planning on getting there on time you might wanna reconsider the offer for a ride.”


TBC...

Just less than three hours had passed since Spike had dropped her off at the side entrance of the high school and Buffy’s head was still spinning from their afternoon together. Had it really only been seven hours since he had shown up in her office and dropped the mother-load of all bombshells? The afternoon had passed in a whirlwind blur, making their time alone seem as though days, or maybe weeks, had flown by instead of just hours.

Rubbing her aching eyes with the heels of her hands, paying no attention to the possibility of ruining the hastily applied eye makeup, Buffy arched her back and let out a very audible yawn. Glancing at the clock, she realized there was still half an hour before the next appointment was scheduled to arrive, time was moving slow now and her nerves were quickly unraveling as the seconds ticked by. The office was eerily quiet despite the hoards of parents and students bustling about in the hallway, thanks in part to the heavy door that she had insisted be closed when the last set of parents and disgruntled child had left. Leaning back in the swivel chair, she closed her eyes and sighed, mostly from exhaustion, but with a nice mix of frustration thrown in.

As soon as Spike’s rental car disappeared out of the parking lot, the lingering reservations about their relationship, or whatever one may call it, had quickly reared its ugly head and caused an intense throbbing just behind her right eye. Thankfully, the constant parade of visitors traipsing past the open door had distracted her worried mind and allowed her to focus on the task at hand. Now, however, as she mindlessly rocked in the chair and stared at the water stained ceiling, those nasty fears were crawling back into the limelight in her brain and bringing back the treacherous headache. Groaning loudly with a stressful combination of frustration and exhaustion, Buffy leaned forward and laid her forehead on the desk; lightly banging against it as if doing so would solve all her problems. Of course, it was that exact moment that her boss decided to pop in.

“You know, I’m pretty sure we provided you with a stapler?” Principal Wood asked good-naturedly as he casually leaned against the door frame; causing Buffy’s head to skyrocket off the desk in surprise. Chuckling at Buffy’s confused look, complete with a yellow post-it note stuck to her forehead, he walked into the room and took a seat in one of the chairs near her desk. “I was referring to the banging of your head against the desk, sorry, bad joke. Rough night?”

“More like an entire day of roughness.” Buffy retorted with a disgusted snort. Crinkling her brow in annoyance, she pulled off the sticky note and threw it into the trash. She could only hope that the ink on it hadn’t rubbed off on her skin, thus making the rest of the meetings painfully embarrassing.

“Feel like sharing, or do you have someone coming in soon?” Robin asked, his warm brown eyes quickly fading from amusement to caring. While he had been her boss for four years, he had been a close friend to Buffy for several years before that.

“No, I’ve got a little while, but honestly…I don’t even know if I can talk about it.” Torn between confessing her secret and remaining tight lipped until Spike said it was all right to talk about it; she’d hate to spill the beans and have their affair plastered over every tabloid by morning. Not that she thought Robin would do that, but you never know when there’s a lurker around; especially after the close call with the female population of the school that afternoon. “Let’s just say that I had a pretty…interesting weekend and had a helluva bombshell dropped on me around lunch. I’m just suffering from some adjustment issues…along with disbelief and insecurity and a little bit of good old fashioned lust.”

Sighing, Buffy once again leaned back in her seat, nervously chewed her bottom lip and promptly changed the subject. “So, how’s Faith doing?” She asked, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to resist chatting about his pregnant wife and the latest addition to the Wood household.

“She’s great; glowing and beautiful….or if you ask her, fat, bloated, ugly and miserable.” He chuckled, his face instantly illuminated with happiness at the thought of his wife. Faith, former rebel and known trollop of Sunnydale High back in the day, had been instantly attracted to the newly instated principal eight years ago when Robin had stepped in to take over the position when the late Mr. Snyder died on graduation day. While the attraction had been mutual, it had taken a very determined Faith many months to convince Robin to take her out on a date. Why did it take that long? Well, it turned out that Mr. Wood was worried about his position in the community and what the School Board would think about him, a thirty-three year old, newly hired principal, dating an eighteen year old recent graduate.

Luckily for Faith and for Buffy, since she no longer had to listen to her friend bitch about Robin’s resistance to her pursuits, he gave in after nearly a year. Now, eight years later they were married and the proud parents of the beautiful Nicole, a very rambunctious four year old with skin the color of warm caramel and luscious chocolate colored locks that flew around her head in a mass of springy ringlets. They were also expecting the arrival of the newest addition of their family, predicted to be a little boy this time, which was scheduled to arrive in two months.

“And since that was an obvious attempt to distract me from my earlier questions,” Robin commented, smoothly turning the conversation back to Buffy, despite her attempts to steer him in another direction. “I’m going to let you off the hook for now, because your next set of worried parents should be here soon. But, I expect you to at least call Faith and talk to her…better yet, come to dinner tomorrow night.” Fully expecting Buffy to argue with him, as usual, he went ahead and said, “It’ll thrill Faith, she’s been moodier than normal with the bed rest sentence.”

“I…um…kinda have a house guest right now and I’m not sure if he would want to or not.” Buffy’s nose crinkled with distaste when she realized the slippage of her visitor’s gender, knowing full well by the smirk on Robin’s face that there was no way in Hell that she could get out of dinner now. Nope, if she didn’t give in and accept the invitation now she could most certainly expect numerous phone calls from Faith, pestering her until she agreed…and brought the mystery guest. “Fine! Ok, just fine. Yes, I’ve got a guy staying with me and yes, we’ll come for dinner. Does six-ish sound good?”

Thirty minutes later, Buffy had just finished up with a surprisingly nice meeting and was straightening up when Willow popped her head in. “Hey Wills, you done for the night or is there more parent-teacher nightmare-a-thon left for you?”

“Nope, all finished.” She stated happily, holding up her brown leather satchel to show she was ready to go home. “Saw Spike drop you off earlier, is he coming back to get you? ‘Cause, there’s a mob outside…it’s like the parents decided to go ahead with the chastising of their children in the parking lot instead of waiting until they got home.”

“Nah, I told him I wanted to walk. Need some time to myself, think things out and stuff. My brain’s been on hyper-drive all day, it needs a breather and soon.” Picking up her bag that was very similar to Willow’s, Buffy ushered the redhead out the door and locked up for the night.

“Well, if you’re free you wanna go grab something to eat? Or, even better, some fancy- schmancy coffee in the mocha variety?”

“You are so speaking my language. Lead the way!” Buffy chuckled, smiling brightly as she dutifully followed Willow out of the building.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


After a short drive to the Espresso Pump, followed by an absurd amount of time in line, they were tucked away in a booth and happily slurping on white chocolate mochas, topped with fluffy clouds of whipped cream. Sitting there, completely oblivious, lost in caffeine induced bliss, Buffy was completely blind sighted by the blunt and rather sudden perverse side of Willow.

“So, didya get groiny, yet?” Willow asked matter-of-factly while slurping the creamy topping off the tasty treat; her face the picture of innocence. At Buffy’s shocked expression, she waggled her eyebrows suggestively and remarked, “What? Like I didn’t notice the steaminess in your office?”

Cheeks instantly a flame with embarrassment, Buffy focused intently on shredding a cocktail napkin to tiny bits and murmured, “No, we so did not get groiny…well, much anyway.” Finally lifting her face, she continued, “Not that we wouldn’t have, but between Riley’s unexpected visit and the meeting tonight, you could say we got distracted.” Making a sour expression, she hastily added, “Oh, and don’t forget my stupid brain. Had to go and be all over-thinky and whatnot.”

“So, Riley caught you and Spike making out? Huh, bet he loved that.”

“That’d be a big fat negative on the loving part. Nope, Riley was a little more than peeved, and Spike’s shirtless caveman act didn’t help matters.”

“Spike made with the possessiveness? Ooh, I think Mr. Hollywood’s got a little crush on someone.” Willow ducked as a rolled up piece of napkin flew past her head and landed in a potted plant. “Hey, it’s a good thing, right? You like him, he likes you…totally makes the fact that you guys are hitched easier.”

“Ugh, that’s the whole problem, Will!” Buffy groaned, pushing her coffee aside to cradle her head in her hands. “Who on earth gets married before they even date? It’s like my normal every day life is suddenly a freaking soap opera. What’s next? Are you going to get kidnapped? No, wait…Xander’s going to get hit on the head with a book and end up with amnesia?”

“Aw, Buff…I know this has got to be all sorts of weird for you, but maybe you and Spike are supposed to happen. Like fate?” Willow winced at Buffy’s disbelieving expression and said, “Ok, so you don’t believe in kismet and stuff, but how else would you explain it? You’re right, who goes to a convention, meets a big shot actor and gets hitched?” Pausing to take a long slurp of coffee, Willow’s face scrunched up while she pondered a thought. “What’d Spike say about it?”

“Oddly enough, he’s totally on board with the whole thing.” Buffy rolled her eyes and chewed the inside of her lip. “Seriously, can we actually be married? Not in the legal terms, causes duh…obviously already are, but like Mr. and Mrs.? I don’t know.”

“Well, maybe you guys could date or something?”

“Date? You think I can totally go back to my house, where my husband is waiting and propose that we date for a while?” Buffy scoffed disbelievingly, an “as if” expression was firmly in place. “Can we say ass backwards?”

“Yeah, I’d say you guys are going about the whole relationshippy thing in reverse, but you never know, it could work out. Why not give it a shot?”

“Give what a shot?” A deep voice interrupted from behind Buffy. Both girls turned around, worried who might have overheard their conversation and were equally relieved to find Xander waiting patiently for an answer. “Scoot over Will.” He motioned for her to move over and wiggled his way into the booth. “So what’d I miss?”

After the shortened version of Buffy’s day, Xander’s mouth flapped open and clothed like a shocked guppy as he looked back and forth between his two best friends. “You’re kidding, right? Pulling ol’ Xan-Man’s chain?” His shoulders slumped when he realized they weren’t joking, that Buffy had in fact married Spike Thorne. For the first time in well…ages, Xander Harris was speechless.

“Xander, say something! You’re scaring me.” Buffy piped up, only half joking with him because honestly, any time Xander didn’t have some witty or sarcastic comment, which was rare, it truly did worry her. Waving her hand in front of his handsome, yet still completely blank face, Buffy tried snapping her fingers, too. “Xander!”

“Huh? What?” Xander stuttered, finally coming out of the shock induced coma when Buffy flicked him in the nose. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he looked at Buffy and asked, “Where is he?”

“At home…I mean my home…because it’s not ours, right? Is it?”

“So, he’s there and you’re here. Hmm…guess that means you’re doing the usual Buffy-avoidy thing? Don’t give me that look, Buff.” Rolling his eyes at his friend’s typical oblivious behavior, Xander looked toward the more level-headed female in the group for support. “Back me up here, Wills.”

“Not the complete Avoid-O-Buffy routine, but pretty close. She has managed to break down and confess that she isn’t completely opposed to getting groiny with a certain hunky actor and does, in fact, think of him in a more relationshippy nature. Now, the only problem that remains is getting her to go tell him that.” Willow shrugged her shoulders and smiled brightly when Buffy stuck her tongue out; which was what she usually did when she knew someone was right and she didn’t like it. “You know I’m right, so why aren’t you out the door and halfway home by now? It’s only what…four blocks?”

Xander and Willow smiled in unison, the look of complete and total satisfaction, as Buffy started to say something, most likely to argue with them, but thought better of it and bolted out of the shop. “Job well done, Harris.”

“Yeah, but not as good as yours, Rosenberg.”


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


She ran home. All four and a half blocks, full sprint ahead…in pumps, nonetheless. Her feet were throbbing, her lungs burning, and chest heaving. But still, Buffy didn’t bother waiting to compose herself, other than the few seconds it took to scrounge around in her purse and pull out the door keys, before pushing her way inside the darkened house. For a moment, she was confused. Why was the lights out? And, was that a fire burning in the fireplace? Buffy didn’t have time to ponder the answers to her internal questions before her body was literally slammed against the door and Spike’s warm body was pressed against hers.

His lips covered hers, hungry in their assault, devouring her in every sense of the word as if he were starved and she was the only meal in sight. Her purse dropped to the floor, forgotten in the moment, her shirt was soon to follow as his hands pushed the offending material up her body so his hands could caress the warm skin beneath. Maneuvering her arms to assist in removing the garment, Buffy barely even registered the sound of ripping material as Spike literally tore the shirt off her body and tossed it to the floor. All she could think was…finally.

Finally their bodies were touching; shirtless torsos melded together, their hands roaming over the heated flesh, digging in to the softer parts as they pressed closer to one another, desperate for contact. There was no denying the fact that sexual attraction was a very big part of whatever they had together.

One moment Spike’s hands were kneading her breasts, his hot mouth had traveled southward to suckle a rosy pink nipple through the silken material of her bra, and then they were gone. He traveled further to yank the creamy dress pants from her trembling legs, struggling with removing them and cursing under his breath. When he finally got them off, along with her underwear, he stood back up, entwined her legs around his narrow waist and he muttered, a hotly toned growl against the soft skin of her neck, “No more bleeding pants. Ever.”

Nodding her agreement, her mind no longer able to form coherent words, Buffy tightened her grip on Spike as he pulled both their bodies away from the door and walked slowly to the living room and laid her gently on a blanket that was laid out in front of the burning fireplace. Smiling up at him, she asked, “Been a busy boy since I left, huh? Were you planning on seducing me or something?”

Spike glanced around, taking in the over abundance of glowing candles, the roaring fire, carefully arranged pillows and blanket and cringed. Had he gone too far? Looking back at Buffy, her naked body aglow from the surrounding flames, golden hair cascading around her shoulders, and gleaming eyes pooling with lust as she nibbled coyly on that succulent bottom lip, Spike realized she was toying with him. “Or something, pet.” With a saucy grin and his tongue curled seductively behind his lip, Spike shed the one and only piece of clothing from his body, tossing the pants onto the couch before crawling up Buffy’s body and settling between her thighs.

Buffy’s body twitched with anticipation as he stalked up her body like a panther on the prowl, like she was the prey and he was the seductively enticing predator. Settling back on the blanket, his body covered hers, heated flesh against heated flesh, both trembling with desire, aching with want. His lips covered hers for a brief second, a passing of soft skin before he took his attentions lower, pressing open mouthed kisses along her neck and chest, paying close attention to the peaked rosebuds before licking his way down her quivering belly. All of the sudden he stopped and she peeked down at him, startled to find him staring up at her, his eyes darkened a deep midnight blue and churning with passion. “What?” Buffy asked with a shaky voice; partially out of desire, but mostly out of nervousness.

“Jus’ wondering if there’s going to be any more interruptions tonight. You aren’t’ expecting any more surprise dates tonight, are you?” Spike chuckled at Buffy’s response, the nervous stuttering that there shouldn’t be anymore surprises tonight. “Good,” was his only response, his head ducking down and returned to his earlier ministrations. His tongue dipped into her belly button, eliciting a squeal of surprise before moving on to more interesting locations.

Spike was impatient, he could admit it. While he ached to taste her on his tongue again, bring her to completion, screaming his name and grasping his hair in ecstasy, more than anything, he wanted to bury himself deep within her body. To satisfy his palate, he allowed his tongue to dip between her folds, delve inside her heated core for the briefest of moments, and twirl around the sensitive bud of her clit just long enough to bring her body to a mass of twitching limbs and her words to breathless moans. Satisfied, he savored her juices on his tongue, felt his cock grow harder with need, and he prowled up her body, settling once again between those wonderful thighs. “Mmm…luv, you taste bloody delicious.”

He kissed her, long and hard, and she got to taste herself on his tongue and was surprised to find that it wasn't repulsive. In fact, there was something slightly erotic about the whole thing. His hardened length was pressed against her center, teasing her with its nearness to her pussy, as if he were taunting her mercilessly. Moaning into his mouth, Buffy arched her back, pressing herself against his body with need and longing, the overwhelming desire to be filled with his cock was driving her mad. Reaching between their sweaty bodies, she took matters into her own hands, literally, and took hold of him; wrapping her hand tightly around his shaft, pumping it slowly before guiding him inside her. He filled her slowly, almost agonizingly so, inch by inch, stretching her to completion, until her body was tight around his girth. She had never felt so full, or remembered the sensation anyway. Spike filled her completely; sparing no room, to an extent that would have been painful had it not been so deliciously pleasurable.

Spike stayed still, willing his body not to react prematurely to her tightness; their actions earlier in the day up until now had left his body sensitive, to say the least. “Bloody hell, pet…you’re so tight.” His breath came in pants, eyes shut as he slowly started to move. The slower the better, however, the sultry blonde beneath him had other ideas. Her nails bit into the soft skin of his ass as she urged him to move, whimpering tiny groans of frustration, her back arched, legs tightened and finally, he gave in. Slid in and out, almost slipping out of her body before slamming back in.

Buffy’s mind was swimming, her body on fire, legs trembling with desire and need, she thrust upwards and matched his movements; their bodies moved together, matching one another stroke for stroke, as if that’s exactly what they had been made for. The heat swirled in her core, building quickly as his body stoked the fires that had been ignited earlier that afternoon, which had been lying dormant until he had touched her again. Arching her back, her nails bit into his flesh, tore into him as though she were a wild animal and a scream ripped from her throat as the tiny sparks swirled into a raging flame.

Spike watched as Buffy tossed her head back in passion, riding out the waves of her orgasm as she bucked beneath his thrusting body, her luscious mouth open wide now in a silent scream of delight. He felt her nails rip through his back and knew that the wounds would hurt later, but for now they added the pain that he craved during pleasure. The tickling sensation of blood trickling down his back sent his body quaking, his own orgasm ripped through his body. Spike came hard, screaming his release with an animalistic roar.

They lay in a heap on the rumpled blanket, half wrapped in one another’s arms in a listless bundle of satisfaction. Only the sharp crackle of the fire could be heard as they lay in silence. Time slipped past and neither one cared. Finally, Spike rolled over and grabbed one of the spare blankets near their feet and pulled it over their naked bodies. Tucking in close to Buffy, Spike wrapped his arms around her and snuggled in tightly. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep he heard her mumbled something, but couldn’t quite make it out. “What was that, luv?”

“We should date.” She muttered, not bothering to open her eyes as she snuggled against him and rested her head on his chest.

They were married and the silly bird wanted to date? If that was what it would take to not only get her into his arms, but to keep her there, he would try it. Spike smiled and kissed her forehead. “Yeah, kitten, we should date.”

Buffy nervously shuffled from one foot to the other while tightly clutching the Tupperware container full of potato salad and waiting for someone to open the front door to the Wood residence. She must have looked seriously anxious, because Spike placed his hands on her shoulders and held her in place. Cocking her head to the side, she raised an eyebrow and asked, “What’s that for?”

“I’m feeling a bit sea sick watching you bob back and forth,” he replied teasingly. Satisfied that she’d stopped fidgeting, Spike pulled her back into his arms and placed a kiss onto her cheek. “Relax, kitten. It’s just your mates, yeah? How horrible can it be?”

“I know it won’t be horrible! Embarrassing, maybe…for the both of us, but not horrible like in the bad sense, I guess,” Buffy conceded and slowly let her body relax just a smidgeon as she let herself fall back into Spike’s embrace. “It’s just weird, ya know?”

“No worries, luv. We’re going to have a wonderful time, have a tasty meal and when we get home later, I’m sure I can find some way to help you relax,” Spike murmured against her neck as he nibbled along the sensitive flesh just below her ear, sending tremors of excitement racing along her skin and instantly bringing forth the memory of their heated embrace earlier that morning.

Her skin flushed red as she recalled the way they had woken up together, in a tangle of limbs, their nude flesh pressed against one another, his hand lightly cupping her breast as the soft hue of morning light seeped past the drawn curtains and filled the living room with a golden glow. His hardened length had been pressed against the curve of her ass, instantly probing between her legs after he inadvertently shifted in his sleep and rousted her from a deep slumber as he brushed against her moist, silken opening and reignited the desire that had cooled beneath the surface of her now writhing body. Barely awake, yet no longer in slumber, he had brought her to orgasm repeatedly, pulling pleasure from her trembling body until she lay limp and grinning like a mad woman on the living room floor. A smile spread across her face as she recalled the feeling of his body pressed against hers and a slow burn flamed in her belly at the thought of the night to come.

Smirking, Spike pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and chuckled, effectively pulling her out of the trance her memories had produced. “Remember, kitten, next time it’s your turn to do the meet and greet, yeah?” His laughter deepened at her unenthused grunt and he was a split second away from frightening her further with tales of his celebrity friends and their attitudes when a woman’s voice was heard from the other side of the front door.

Upon hearing Faith’s bellow from inside the house as she slowly made her way to the door, Buffy pulled out of Spike’s embrace with a grimace and announced, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. There’s just no excuse for Faith sometimes.”

Spike was about to question her comment, but suddenly the bright red front door flew open and he was faced with one extremely pregnant female, who was swathed in dark jeans and a billowy white maternity top, huffing loudly with one hand perched at the curve of her back for support and red in the face from exertion. He recalled Buffy’s comment that Faith still had eight weeks left in her pregnancy, but the swell of her tummy was very deceptive in its size and he thought she looked like she was ready to pop at any minute.

Buffy watched her long time friend ogle Spike, her cherry stained mouth wide open with shock, and she was utterly amused by the reaction. Faith was known for her hardcore temperament, brash attitude and sassy mouth, and Buffy had never witnessed a single moment in the span of their friendship where Faith was stuck speechless. Unable to stifle the laughter bubbling inside, Buffy began to titter; slightly at first, before giving way to an unexpected fit of giggles. When she was finally able to reign in the outburst of laughter, Buffy brushed away the few tears that had sprung in her eyes and managed to squeak out, “You’ve broken Faith!”

“I’m not fucking broke, B!” Faith retorted shrilly, with hands placed on her hips. Lifting one hand, she pointed in Spike’s direction and ranted, “Hello?! Shock factor? Robin said you were bringing some guy and I was thinking like Xander or that lame ass football coach that’s been sniffing around lately. You show up with Mr. Hot-ass celebrity in tow without maybe a phone call or some other damn type of advanced warning and expect me not to freak out? I think the Hell not.” Pausing to take a needed breath, Faith was opening her mouth to start in on Buffy again, when she was stopped by her daughter tugging insistently on her shirt sleeve. “Hey, baby, what’s up?”

Nicole peeked around her mother’s legs, bashfully hiding from the person that she didn’t know, before staring up at Faith with wide chocolate brown eyes. “Um, Mommy, you said a bad word,” she murmured shyly, her words just loud enough to carry over to Buffy and Spike. “You hafta put monies in the jar now.” Quickly producing a purple painted jar with red hearts, pink polka dots and sprinkled with a glittered rainbow of colors, she held it out proudly for Faith to turn over the much deserved bounty.

Buffy and Spike shared a brief glance and knowing smile, both managing to keep their laughter at bay as Faith grimaced and rolled her eyes before jamming her hand into her pocket and procuring a wad of crumpled bills. “How much this is it this time, sweetie?”

“Three,” she said proudly, holding up the matching number of fingers for her mother to see. Faith dutifully peeled off three dollar bills and grudgingly stuffed them in the colorful jar. “Thank you, Mommy.” Nicole turned to sit the jar on a nearby table, making sure it was safe on its perch before skipping back across the foyer and attacking Buffy’s legs. “Aunt B? Do you say dirty words like my Mommy? Daddy says ladies don’t say things like that.”

Buffy handed Spike the tub of potato salad and hefted the little girl into her arms. “Sometimes, Nikki, but I don’t say as many dirty words as your Mommy; she’s always had a potty mouth.” The girls busted out into giggles as Faith glowered at them and dryly said, “Thanks, B.”

A short while later, they were sitting around the dining room table polishing off dinner when the conversation inevitably turned from how the new couple met to Faith and Buffy’s teenage years.

“Oh, please. Don’t let Buffy fool you, Spike. She might look like a prim and proper young lady now, but she was just as bad as I was in high school,” Faith replied with gusto to Spike’s comment on how unlikely a pair the two seemed based on the pictures he had seen of Faith in her younger years; all black lipstick and tight leather with the trademark scowl of a bad attitude.

Cocking his head at the blushing blonde to his left, Spike said, “I’m not sure I can believe you on that one. She just doesn’t seem to have that bad girl streak in her.”

“Pssht, there was this one time when her mom told us we had to stay in on a Friday night because the principal, the one before Robin, called and told her that we’d skipped school that day. Well, we were supposed to meet some guys at the gym for a little after party…shh, Buffy, I’m talking,” Faith waved her hand in her friend’s direction and paid no attention to the objections spewing from the other side of the table. “Anyway, we got tanked and had to crawl back in the second story window before her mom woke up for work. Buffy stumbled and ended up falling against the wrong window! Needless to say, Joyce was pissed! Not only was her precious little daughter wasted at six o’clock in the morning, but her shirt was on inside out and backwards!”

“Oh my Gosh, Faith! Could you be a little louder? I don’t think Nikki heard you.” Buffy motioned with her head to where the five year old was quietly coloring in the floor. “And, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one with a clothing mishap. Weren’t you missing a bra?”

“Wouldn’t say I was missing it, B, it was one heck of an uncomfortable piece of lace. Plus, I wasn’t the one smoking in the weight room, was I? And what happened to that part of the gym?” Faith put her chin in her palm and batted her chocolate brown eyes innocently in Buffy’s direction.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Faith. No idea at all,” Buffy replied, suddenly interested in the last remaining bites of salad on her plate; completely ignoring the incredulous stares being directed at her from both men at the table.

When dinner was finished and Robin was just returning to the dining room with dessert, Buffy heard the tell tale ring of her cell phone coming from her purse in the foyer. Extending her apologies, she hurried across the room into the foyer and managed to snag the little black phone before the caller hung up. Noticing on the caller ID that it was Willow calling, she smiled and answered brightly, “Hey Wills, what’s up?”

Spike watched her as she listened to whatever her friend had to say and became worried as her expression quickly dissolved into something a lot more ominous than before. Catching her eye, he mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

Holding up a finger to signal for him to hold on, Buffy turned and walked into the adjoining living room and picked up the television remote. “Uh-huh, I’m about to turn it on. What channel?” Clicking on the flat screen television, Buffy flipped rapidly through the channels until landing on the one in question. “I’ve got to go, Willow …yeah, I’ll call you later. Thanks, by the way.” Snapping the phone shut, she let it slide out of her hand to land on the couch just moments before she slumped down beside it. “Oh, no! No, no, no, no!”

Spike quickly left the dining room table, followed by Robin and a much slower Faith. “What’s wrong, pet?” Coming around the corner, he skidded to a halt when his gaze landed on the television and what was being broadcasted across the news channels.


They watched helplessly as the petite brunette pranced across the screen and proudly announced their secrets on national television, “That’s right, ladies. It seems as though Hollywood ’s hottest bachelor has been spotted looking very smitten over the weekend. As seen in the photos that were emailed to our station earlier today, Spike Thorn, the sexy vampire that makes women across the globe swoon every Tuesday night on Joan the Vampire Slayer, was seen wining and dining a young lady Saturday night.

I have to admit, her identity threw us for a loop at first, but thankfully our research department was recently able to confirm that Spike met his latest conquest over the weekend while attending a science fiction convention in Las Vegas held at the world renowned Hyperion Hotel. The lucky lady’s name is Buffy Summers, who resides in the quaint town of Sunnydale located just two hours north of Thorn’s residence in Malibu. Hmm…wonder how that distance is going to play out in this budding new romance or is this just another one of Spike Thorn’s many conquests? Guess we’ll all just have to wait and see. I’m Veruca Wolfe with Entertainment Now and you’ve just been informed. Have a good night and don’t forget to tune in for Friday nights coverage of the seventh annual black and white charity ball being held at L.A.’s hottest night spot, Caritas. It’s sure to be a night of great fashion and even hotter gossip.”

Spike’s face flushed furiously as he leaned forward against the couch, his hands clenched tightly against the pale rose and cream plaid cloth directly behind where Buffy was sitting. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before allowing himself to comment on the situation. While he was used to the invasion of his privacy, the blatant disregard for his feelings or confidentiality constantly being plastered across the various media sources for the purpose of entertaining the public, Spike knew that Buffy wasn’t ready for the lifestyle; much less being thrown directly into the proverbial fire. He glanced down at Buffy; her hunched figure frozen with shock was focused intently on the television, which was now muted thanks to their hosts and silently advertised the latest useless whatnot that everyone would undoubtedly rush out to buy the next day. Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, inadvertently startling her.

Wincing at the pale expression of shock plastered across Buffy’s face when she turned around and looked at him, eyes wide with a worrisome mix of surprise and anxiety and sparkling with unshed tears, Spike straightened up and reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. With one eye on the nearly hysterical blonde, he called for Nicole. “Hey Bit? Come ‘ere for a sec.”

The energetic five year old, still running strong after a long day of playing and entertaining her favorite “aunt”, skipped across the living room with a wide smile, mocha locks bouncing boisterously with each step, and landed in front of his feet. “Yes, Mist-ur Spike?”

Kneeling down to her level, Spike extracted a crisp twenty dollar bill from his black leather wallet and handed it to her with a sardonic smile, “Here, Niblet. I think Aunt Buffy might break the no-cussing rule tonight. This should cover it, yeah?”

Nicole smiled widely, the gap left by her missing front teeth bared proudly, and clutched the money tightly in her hands as if it might vanish into thin air at any moment. “Thanks!” she exclaimed brilliantly before tucking it safely into the brightly painted container designated for cussing violations. Glancing back to Spike, her eyebrows knitted together in thought and she leaned close to whisper in his ear, “You make sure to get on to her later, ok? My daddy says that it’s still wrong to say dirty words, no matter how much money you have.”

Chuckling at the seriousness of the little girl’s words, Spike patted her on the head and promised to reprimand Buffy later that night and stood up just in time for Buffy to react verbally to the newscast.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Damn them all to Hell!” Buffy cried loudly, her face red with frustration and anger. She took a deep breath, long enough for Robin to remove his hands from his daughter’s ears, and let it out slowly…then flew right into another tirade; where they were treated to the surprising string of expletives that spewed from the normally demure young lady’s mouth.

Muttering to himself more than anything, Spike commented, “Maybe twenty wasn’t enough.”

Amazingly calm, despite the shocking news cast from the night before, Buffy leaned casually against the kitchen counter and savored each spoonful of vanilla yogurt she was putting in her mouth while gazing happily out the window just over the sink. While yogurt was her favorite choice for breakfast, it wasn’t the reason her face was lit up with a smile. The sole reason for the blinding glow of happiness was currently leaning against the railing on her back porch.

Buffy ogled Spike as he indulged in his morning smoke, clad in a form fitting black T-shirt and a pair of faded, way beyond well worn jeans that hugged the tight curve of his delicious backside. It surprised Buffy that this habit wasn’t a turn off like she had expected. In fact, it was quite the opposite. There was something innately sensual about the way Spike smelled; a tantalizing blend of purely male scent, leather and cigarette smoke. For the first time in her life, the smoky aroma pleased her rather than turned her off. Of course, the innately sexual way he held the slender cigarette, fondled it between his forefinger and thumb, gently rested it between his sensual lips and sucked on it softly could possibly be part of the attraction. There was no denying that the man had a talent for taking non-sexual actions and turning them into something that could bring a woman to her knees with desire.

Buffy sighed in appreciation as the early morning light filtered through the smattering of trees to play delicately on his tousled locks, softening the harsh platinum strands into a buttery hue. He seemed oblivious to the enthralled eyes drinking in the sight of him from just beyond the blinds in the kitchen window as he stubbed out the ember tip of his cigarette in the ashtray Buffy had kindly procured and stretched languidly. Her heart skipped a beat, her mouth dried instantly as his shirt eased upward and presented her with a tasty view of his pale, smooth back and insanely sexy indentations just above his hip bones.

Mouth agape, Buffy mindlessly let the yogurt container and spoon clatter into the stainless steel sink with a thud as she licked her lips in appreciation for the man in her line of sight. She’d never ogled someone with the intensity she seemed to muster up for Spike. Sure, there’d been the occasional admiring stare from behind a well placed book or clothing rack as she checked out an attractive male in the area, but nothing as downright obvious as what she was currently indulging in. Lost in a very perverse thought about a certain celebrity’s delectable rear end, which she had already declared to be the finest derrière in the world, Buffy squeaked in surprise when she noticed that the object of her fantasy was now facing directly toward the kitchen window with a very proud smirk plastered across his face. Blushing profusely, she set about cleaning up the small mess she’d made and ignored Spike’s obvious humor in finding her ogling him.

Buffy’s blush deepened when, out of the corner of the corner of her eye she saw Spike whip off his shirt and teasingly scratch the rather sexy patch of hair that trailed down from his navel to disappear into the waistband of his jeans. He was obviously trying to get a rise out of her since he knew she had a severe attraction to that particular location of his body, as she had proven the night before with a very thorough exploration of that area with her tongue. Buffy tried her best to appear nonchalant and not encourage his actions since there was definitely not enough time to indulge in anything sexual before work; she dutifully continued to clean up the already spotless kitchen by sticking the spoon into the dishwasher and tossing the empty yogurt container into the garbage. Coyly glancing out the window, she was rewarded with the view of Spike flicking open the button on his jeans as he sauntered towards the back door with a leering grin. Thankfully, the ringing of her cell phone drew her attentions elsewhere. She so could not afford to be late this morning, too! No matter how tempting the offer.

Turning her back on him, Buffy flicked open her cell phone and answered as calmly as one could with a pair of skilled hands roaming up the outside of their thighs, causing a deep burn to build in her nether regions. Her legs weakened, her resolve began to crumble as he slipped a hand between her trembling thighs and tickled his fingers along the bare skin. His lips feasted along the exposed skin along the nape of her neck, teeth nipping the sensitive skin as his fingers inched upward toward the more delicate area underneath the proper rose colored skirt she had chosen for the day. Just as one nimble digit began to swirl around the sensitive nub that lay tucked away beneath the lacy lavender thong, Buffy stifled a moan and mustered up enough nerve to pull away from Spike.

Swatting at Spike’s hands as he grabbed for her, Buffy skirted across the kitchen with a mischievous grin and half way paid attention to the voice on the other end of the phone. Catching the tail end of what Robin was saying, Buffy held up her hand indicating for Spike to stop and walked towards the living room on shaky legs.

“I’m sorry, Robin.” Buffy apologized with an amazingly calm voice as she walked into the living room. “What did you just say?” As she listened to her principal repeat his statement, Buffy sank onto the edge of the sofa feeling as though the air had been sucked from her lungs.

Spike leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen entryway and felt his stomach lurch at the sight of the paled expression on Buffy’s face. It was obvious from her body language that whatever her boss was conveying over the phone was anything but positive news. Catching her eye, he mouthed, ‘What’s wrong?’ Only to be brushed aside with a flick of Buffy’s hand. Realizing that the moment for a bit of morning delight had seriously passed, Spike slipped his shirt back on and took a seat on one of the stairs in the foyer.

“Of course, Robin, I understand your concern. Uh-huh, sure…it’s not a problem. I’m due for a vacation, I guess. My schedule is fairly light this week so it shouldn’t be anything that one of the other counselors couldn’t cover. Um, I’ll give you a call this weekend to see about next week’s schedule. Thanks, Robin.” With a grim expression Buffy closed the cell phone and looked at Spike. “We’ve been made.”

Spike pulled himself off the stairs and headed toward where Buffy was sitting on the sofa. “What do you mean, pet? What’s happened?”

“Robin went in to work early, thank heavens for small miracles because he’s usually pulling up when I am since he drops Nikki at school on his way in. Anyway, when he got there he was instantly swarmed by a herd of reporters in the parking lot.” Buffy sighed and allowed Spike to pull her off the arm of the sofa into a comforting embrace. “We don’t have much time. Sunnydale is super small, they’ll figure out where I live soon enough. What am I going to do?”

“I think you mean, what are we going to do, love. I’m in this just as deep as you are, yeah?” Spike looked down into her luminous eyes and frowned at the worry and sadness there; emotions that he helped put there. Feeling courageous, he brushed a tear away from her cheek and asked, “You against a road trip?”

Less than fifteen minutes later they were packed and ready to go. Well, rather Spike was ready to go since he only had a small bag of clothes and such in the first place. On the other hand, Buffy felt harried and unprepared even though Spike promised her that anything she needed once they got to Los Angeles would be provided without hesitation. Trusting Spike’s word that everything was going to be all right, Buffy locked the front door and hurried down the walkway to the rental car he was waiting next to. Allowing Spike to be a gentleman and open the passenger door, Buffy slipped inside with a heavy heart and couldn’t help but wonder what this meant for life as she knew it.

Not even halfway through the two hour drive from Sunnydale to Los Angeles had passed and the newly wedded couple had already run out of things to talk about. While they had not the slightest of problems in communicating their desires to one another, it seemed that talking about their personal lives was a bit of a task. The first twenty minutes or so had been filled with a discussion of the morning’s events and how they had narrowly avoided the news crew that had pulled onto Buffy’s street as they had rounded the corner. Idle chitchat had taken over since then, including mundane topics such as breakfast foods and weather.

“Is there anyone you need to contact, pet, someone other than your friends, that is, to let them know that you’ll be out of town for a few days?” Spike probed as he slyly watched his bride out of the corner of his eye. So far, Buffy had cleverly avoided any conversations regarding her family and Spike was growing more and more curious by the moment. Surely there was an overbearing mother in law or overprotective father in law just waiting in the wings for their chance to impose their opinions into Buffy and Spike’s fledgling marriage.

Fidgeting with her hands, Buffy cringed inwardly at Spike’s inquiry. Deep down she was aware that she would have to spill the beans on her family’s drama, but really didn’t want to get into the gory details at that very second. Given her reluctance on the matter, Buffy decided to give Spike the same story she gave everyone else that she didn’t know very well and hoped it didn’t come back to bite her in the ass. “Well, my mom passed away seven years ago while I was in college from a brain aneurysm and my dad was never really part of the picture. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since I was really little. So, other than an aunt in Illinois that I haven’t seen since my very awkward preteen years I don’t have anyone other than my friends…and well, you, I guess.”

“Only child, eh? Must’ve been nice. “Spike replied with a hint of sarcasm. “My older sister annoyed the bleeding hell out of me on a daily basis. Luckily for you, most of my family still lives overseas so I don’t imagine you’ll be forced to see them too often.”

“Oh, that’s right! I forgot you have a sister. Um, Drusilla, right? Go me with the stalker fan girl information.” Buffy giggled and was rewarded with an amused smile from Spike.

“Well, love, your fan girl stalking means I don’t have to worry about you forgetting the details, yeah?” Spike winked at Buffy and returned back to focusing on the road, all the while never letting on how pleased he was that she finally shared a bit of her personal life with him. The remainder of the trip was spent with idle chitchat, which both parties enjoyed for separate reasons.

Just over an hour later they rounded the corner onto the palm tree lined street where Spike’s house was tucked away behind lavish security gates at the end of the cul de sac. After slowly driving down the winding road, they neared his home and immediately spotted the flock of paparazzi herded at his driveway. “Bloody hell!” Spike exclaimed as he immediately ducked the car into a neighboring driveway hidden from the reports view by several towering plants. “Figured the hounds would show up eventually, just wasn’t quite figuring on it being so soon.” Reaching into the console of the rental car Spike pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the numbers. “Time for the backup plan.”

Buffy half listened to Spike’s phone call to his agent/uncle Rupert while she craned her neck in attempts to spy on the mass of gossip reports and still couldn’t believe that they had camped out to get a glimpse of her. Buffy Summers, lowly small town guidance counselor was about to be the center of attention and envied by millions of girls. The very notion both excited and scared her.

Lost in her daydream, Buffy didn’t hear Spike end the conversation and put the car into reverse. When he whipped the sleek black rental car back out onto the road she glanced at him questioningly. “I take it we aren’t going to your place?”

“No, sorry, but I think it’s for the best that we head to my uncle’s place for the time being and figure out what the next course of action is. We’ll get to my house soon enough. I can’t wait to show you around your new home.” Spike glanced over at Buffy in time to see the expression on her face and regretted that it wasn’t one of happiness or excitement. “What is it, love?”

“Spike, how are we going to do this? I have a job in Sunnydale, a job I love actually. And my house, my mother left me that house! I don’t want to leave it. “Buffy twisted her hands nervously and chewed on her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from crying. How on earth had she gotten herself into such a mess? “And my friends! Spike, they’re the only family I have left. I can’t leave Sunnydale!”

It wasn’t that Spike hadn’t given any thought to their special predicament, it was just that he really never thought that Buffy wouldn’t jump at the chance to move to Malibu once she got used to the idea. “We’ll figure it out, Buffy. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just thought that maybe one day you might consider moving in with me, but we can cross that bridge when we get there. We’re just dating right now, yeah?”

“Dating, yes…just dating is good.” Buffy breathed and focused on quelling the panic attack bubbling just beneath the surface. Forcing out a slight smile to reassure Spike, she took his offered hand, leaned her head back against the seat and let the sight of passing palm trees and crashing waves lull her into a state of peace as they drove up the coast to his uncle’s estate.

After another hour or so in the car, Buffy was sure enough lulled into a state of peace as she had fallen asleep sometime during the jaunt up the coast just north of Santa Barbara. She awoke about halfway down the cobblestone driveway that was lined on both sides with acres of lush green grass and immaculately designed gardens. Spike pulled the car around the circular parking area and unfolded his long legs from the car, waving off the servant while doing so. “How many times am I going to have to tell you that you don’t have to assist me, Jonathan?” he said with a good-natured chuckle while motioning to the other side of the car. “However, I’m sure my guest will get a kick out of it.”

Buffy chastised herself for not being more elegant and lacking the cool demeanor that she should have possessed, but she really couldn’t help the astonished gaze and slack jawed expression as she exited the car. She smoothed down the front of her very modest tan skirt, and by modest she meant budget priced, and slowly made her way to the rear of the car where Spike was waiting with a bemused expression. “This is your uncle’s house? Wow.”

“Well, to be honest, it’s his wife’s house. Her father gave it to them as a wedding present. “Spike explained as he escorted her to the front door. “But I try not to remind him of that too often. Old bloke really has no sense of humor when it comes to being called a kept man.”

“So I take it you tease him as much as you tease me?” Buffy asked with a knowing smirk.

“I only tease because I care, love. Plus, it’s not like the old man hasn’t got his own money. He’s got two other houses. My uncle just a bit stuffy when it comes to the matter of money, aren’t you Rupes?” Spike noticed his uncle had opened the door despite the houseful of servants that undoubtedly were being paid to do such a menial task, which meant that Rupert Giles was in a hurry to get down to the matter at hand.

“Clearly, “Rupert responded with only the slightest hint of a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. No matter how many times his deceased sister’s son aggravated him Rupert found it next to impossible to stay mad at the young lad. Breaking out of his customary stuffy ways, as his nephew so eloquently put it; Rupert gave Spike a warm hug and motioned the both of them into the massive house. “Miss Summers, I presume?”

“Yes, sir,” She replied, accepting his hand to shake. “Your home is absolutely breathtaking.”

“Thank you, my wife will be thrilled to hear that. Please, come into the living room while we wait for lunch which should be served shortly. Would either of you like a drink?” Rupert ushered them both into the lavishly decorated living area, complete with massive floor to ceiling windows lined across the backside to show a gorgeous view of a pool and another garden.

“No thank you, but I could use a trip to the restroom to freshen up.” Buffy headed in the direction of the bathroom, while Spike sank down onto a supple leather couch and stretched his legs out in front of him.

“She is quite a beautiful, Spike,” Rupert stated, while pouring himself a single shot of bourbon. “While I don’t normally believe in getting down to business while there are guests, I figure we don’t have much time to get a press release hammered out before the vultures realize that you aren’t at home or at Miss Summers’ house. So, care to fill me in?”

“Honestly, Rupert, this is probably something you will want to do in complete privacy. If Anya’s around I would suggest having her take Buffy outside to eat while you and I take care of matters in your office.” Spike replied with complete honesty as he got off the couch and decided to take part in the bourbon as well.

“That bad then?” Rupert replied sarcastically as he leaned over to pick up a nearby phone and punched in a three digit extension. “Anya, dear, would you be kind as to take Spike’s guest out to the patio for lunch? He and I have a great deal of work to do and figure it would be quite the bore for you ladies.” He muttered a few more words just low enough for Spike not to pick up on them from across the room, most likely terms of endearment seeing as how the two still acted like newlyweds after nearly five years of marriage. “Anya is on her way down with the twins, the nanny is off this morning for an appointment and she can’t get them to go down for their nap. Hopefully they will behave long enough to have lunch. Quite the handfuls, they are.”

In the marble and glass bathroom down the hall, Buffy took several deep breaths in a failed attempt to soothe her nerves. Just meeting Spike’s uncle had sent them into a frazzled mess and now her heart was hammering away in her chest and her face was flushed a very unbecoming bright red. She splashed some cold water onto her face and patted her cheeks dry with a fluffy crème colored hand towel just as someone knocked softly on the door. Figuring Spike wouldn’t be so reserved, she cracked the door and peeked out to find a petite blonde in a maid’s uniform on the other side. “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you Miss, but Mrs. Giles’ would like to invite you to join her on the patio for lunch while Mr. Giles and Mr. Thorne are in a meeting.” The maid motioned for Buffy to follow and led her down the hallway in the opposite direction of the living room and through a pair of double glass doors that opened onto the patio where she was greeted by a petite blonde woman with dressed impeccably in a rose hued sheath dress who was clearly several decades younger than her husband, which shocked Buffy even though it shouldn’t have being Hollywood and all.

“Buffy? Hi, I’m Anya, Rupert’s wife.” Anya shook Buffy’s hand and motioned for her to take a seat at the wrought iron and glass table that appeared to be set for a seven course meal instead of a simple lunch on the patio. “I apologize for the change in plans, but Rupert was chomping to get down to business with Spike. Apparently the two of you have really got the gossip columnists stirred up.”

“That would be putting it mildly.” Buffy replied grimly as she wondered what all she was allowed to spill during lunch. Deciding to play it by ear, she said, “It’s all new to me. I still can’t believe anyone would want to know about my life, even with someone like Spike hanging around.”

“Hmm…hanging around is not how I would phrase what Spike’s doing. I’ve never seen him this wound up over anything or anyone.” Anya eyeballed the flustered blonde across from her and took a sip of water before saying, “But, that’s neither here nor there. I’ve been asked not to discuss anything until after their super secret meeting; although I am very interested, but I can wait, I guess.” Anya smiled as Buffy sighed with visible relief and turned her attention to the two girls playing across the yard. “I hope you don’t mind, but the nanny is off until after lunch so the girls will be dining with us.”

“I don’t mind at all, I love children.” Buffy assured her host with a gracious smile and sighed wistfully at the sight of the two little girls tearing across the yard to come to their mother’s call.

“It can be tiring having twins, especially three year olds, but children really do add something special to your life. Buffy, I’d like you to meet Christina and Emmanuella.” Buffy’s heart swooned as the two towheaded girls snuggled against their mother before climbing into their chairs. Anya motioned for them to put their napkins in their laps and said to Buffy,” Do you have any?”

“Oh, um, no I don’t.” Buffy stammered as a server placed a plate of roasted chicken and vegetables in front of her. Realizing that Spike’s aunt was merely fishing for information, she added, “Although, I hope to have several someday.”

“That’s good to hear. We could use a few more children in the family.” Anya replied with a wink and satisfied smile before leaning over to cut up the chicken for her daughters while ignoring the slight choking sound coming from a startled Buffy.

Inside Rupert’s office on the second floor, a room tastefully decorated for a man, in mahogany and brown leather, Spike was beginning to lose his bravado and felt like sinking into the overstuffed chair thanks to the glare coming from his
uncle. “Listen, Rupert, it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Really?” Rupert replied dryly. “Then please explain to me what the situation is, William. Because from where I’m sitting I see another one of you colossal mistakes made clearly because you are unable to think with anything above your belt on most days.”

“Of course you would think that.” Spike spat, “You’ve never believed I could do anything other than screw up. You’re as bad as the rest of the family in that matter, everyone except mum that is. No one gave my father a chance since he didn’t come from your section of society and you’ve never truly gave me one either. Admit it.”

Rupert glared at his nephew and had to admit that, to a degree he’d always treated him like a child that needed to be guided through every section of life. William had moved to the states when he was eight to live with him after his parents, Rupert’s sister and brother, had died in a car crash just outside of London. While Rupert loved the boy like he was one of his own, he had to be honest with himself and realize he had always assumed the worst when it came to his nephew’s actions. “Alright then, fill me in on what’s going on with Miss Summers. Why was it so important to track her down and why on earth you’ve been shacked up with her for days and missing work?”

Realizing that he may in fact have chosen a particularly bad time to question his uncle’s love for him, Spike mustered up the courage to quickly blurt out what had happened in Las Vegas. “So, I guess congrats are in order, yeah? What with the marriage and all?”

“I knew it!” Rupert exploded, “I knew you had gone and done something completely juvenile yet again! Well, I hope you bloody well know what you’re doing, young man. Do you even know what type of woman you married? Bleeding hell, she’s probably just after your money. Did you even have the forethought to get her to sign a prenuptial agreement?”

“She’s not like that, Rupert! Buffy’s an angel, a sweet and caring young woman that you should be grateful I married instead of some piece of trash like the first girl I pranced through here with,” Spike insisted vehemently, “And no, we didn’t sign any bleeding agreement. Are you daft? We got married in Vegas. Like we had the time to do anything like that! She’s a bloody revelation, I tell you! I love her!”

“Love her?” Rupert scoffed, “Please, William, you’ve known her for barely a week. I can promise you that whatever you are feeling has to do more with your penis and less to do with your heart. And as for her being a ‘bloody revelation’ let me tell you just how sweet and innocent your precious wife is.” Reaching into his briefcase, Rupert pulled out a file folder crammed full of paper and tossed it across the desk to his nephew. “Go ahead, read up.”

Spike was halfway through the file folder on his betrothed’s formative years and still hadn’t read anything shocking enough to have his uncle’s knickers in a twist; although he fully believed Faith’s stories about their high school years now. Glancing over the folder, he warily eyeballed his uncle and asked, “What’s the big deal, Rupes? So she was a bit mischievous in her younger days, so what? And do I even want to know how you managed to snag a copy of her juvenile records?”

“A friend owed me a favor.” Rupert replied in response to his nephew’s last question. “That’s all you need to know.” Grimly, he continued, “However, while her juvenile records are colorful to say the least, that wasn’t quite what I was referring to. Turn to the last page, Spike.”

Curious, Spike flipped through a couple more pages of juvenile infractions to locate the page in question, but made a mental note to inquire as to how Buffy and Faith managed to get themselves out of trouble after breaking in to a sporting goods store on a dare. On the last page, Spike skimmed over it before settling on what was obviously causing a great deal of worry for Rupert. Closing the file, he placed it back on the desk and chewed on his bottom lip for a minute before looking at his uncle. “Well, that explains why she won’t talk about her family.”

“I imagine having a father in prison is rather embarrassing, and when it’s for swindling several influential people in Hollywood out of millions of dollars it would be extremely uncomfortable to talk about to someone in your line of work.” Rupert paused to take a sip of bourbon before continuing, “Now the question remains, do you think she has any idea about the child he allegedly fathered prior to being sentenced? She would have been very young at the time and since she hasn’t mentioned a sibling, there’s a chance that her mother might have not told her.”

“I doubt she knows. Buffy’s made several remarks as to her friends being her only family and not wanting to leave them in Sunnydale when I mentioned moving in with me. I believe if she knew about a sibling, she’d have a relationship with them regardless of the situation.” Spike was a hundred percent sure that Buffy would relish the idea of having a sibling no matter what the details surrounding the situation were. His main concern at the moment was what to do with the information. While he knew the media would have field day with the information regarding Hank Summers, Spike knew that it would eventually blow over once something else juicy happened in Tinsletown. His only worry was how all of it would affect Buffy.

As if reading his nephew’s mind, Rupert said, “This isn’t going to be good in the media. In fact, it will be a firestorm of coverage, but it will eventually blow over. This is most certainly what you pay me the high dollars for. However, you need to consider what you’re going to say to Buffy. If she is, in fact, clueless about possibly having a sister or brother out there, then finding out through the news is going to be very difficult for her. While we aren’t a hundred percent as to the validity of the source, I figure it would be best to go ahead and prepare her for the possibility. After that, she can take the course of action that she decides will best.”

“ ‘m in total agreement with you.” Spike felt the itch of a cigarette creeping up, but knew that his uncle had a strict rule against doing so in his house, so he got up and walked over to the patio door. “I’ll talk to her about it tonight.”

“Of course, that leads us to the next course of business,” Rupert edged away from the desk, stood up and followed Spike onto the adjoining patio, “which is clearly how we are going to go about announcing to the media hounds your recent nuptials and the subsequent breaking of millions of hearts of teenage girls worldwide.”

“I do believe I caught a sense of humor in that statement somewhere, Rupes.” Spike replied with a smirk. “You’d better watch out, old man, I hear it’s contagious.” Leaning against the nearby railing, he took a long drag from the much needed cigarette. “I want to hold off on it for as long as possible, if we can. M’blushing bride is about as skittish as a wild horse on the matter and I’d like a bit of time to let her settle in to the idea before it’s released. And, judging by the way the media has their teeth dug into the topic of our sudden romance, I’d likely bet I’ve got about a day or so before it’s leaked. So, let’s try to get through the charity ball tomorrow night and see how things go, yeah? 'm sure the vultures will have plenty to chat about when I show up with her on my arm, instead of going stag like I normally do.”

“Very well then, holding off on all media notifications other than the typical ‘no comment’ until further notice; this should go well, I expect.” Rupert replied with only the slightest hint of sarcasm. “Now that that’s out of the way, I’d very much like to get to know your wife. I’m very interested in finding out more about how she managed to burn down the school gym. Quiet an interesting young lady you’ve brought home this time, William. And she looks so down to earth on the surface, too. Very unexpected, indeed.”

“Why don’t we hold off on the Spanish Inquisition for the time being, mate. She’s nervous enough about being here and really doesn’t like to talk about her past.” Spike followed his uncle down the pathway that led to the rear patio where their wives were having lunch. As they rounded the corner, he nudged Rupert with his elbow and winked, “Plus, her cohort, Faith, already filled me in on the details of that evening. We’ll have a drink later and discuss it, yeah?”

“I’m going to hold you to that promise.” Rupert replied with a chuckle before crossing the stone patio to take a seat next to Anya. “Sorry for the delay, dear. How was lunch? Have you managed to get Buffy to spill all of her deep, dark secrets yet?”

“Lunch was excellent, as always, and no, I haven’t.” Anya pouted, sticking her bottom lip out. “She’s got a serious case of the tight lip going on.”

Buffy’s cheeks turned bright red, which tended to be her usual reaction to having the attention planted firmly in her direction. Thankfully, Spike changed the subject and for a moment she thought she was rescued and no longer under the microscope when he mentioned the upcoming charity ball that was all the talk on the gossip show on television last night. When she heard him say that she needed a dress for the event, she choked on her water and gaped at him. “What with the huh?” She managed to spit out oh so elegantly.

“”What? You didn’t expect me to go alone did you, pet?” Spike asked, managing to look both amused and offended with Buffy’s exclamation.

“Yes!” Buffy all but shrieked, which had Rupert and Anya red faced with laughter. Even further embarrassed now, she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down and then proceeded to convey her thoughts in a clearer manner. “I just figured you’d go alone. It’s such a public event and I am so very much not a public dance kind of event type of girl, Spike. Unless, of course, you count high school dances, which I obviously have to go to, but I’m there in a more wallflower kind of presence. This, it’s just too big. Too soon! I am so not ready!”

“You’ll be fine, love.” Spike assured her as he reached over to take her hands in his before she ripped the skin clear off of them with the way she was wringing them nervously. “Plus, you agreed we’d try this dating thing. In fact, it was your idea, yeah? You’d better get used to being in public with me if we’re going to do so.”

Realizing she was defeated in her argument against going, she sighed. “Fine, but when I inevitably pull a ‘Buffy’ and embarrass you in front of everyone, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Tickled pink, Anya clapped her hands together and announced, “You know what this calls for, right? A makeover! Tomorrow morning you are all mine Buffy?” Satisfied with the way the day had turned out, she headed inside to make a few preparatory phone calls with a smile on her face, despite the look of horror on Buffy’s face.