She couldn’t believe her eyes. He was clear across the room. Still, there was no doubt in her mind; the bleached hair, the pouty lips, the great ass—it was definitely him. She’d spent years imagining seeing him again, but she still wasn’t ready. Her stomach churned and her knees shook. Hurt, delight, and anger battled for the top spot in her heart and mind; anger won. It didn’t help that he looked great. If she’d been anywhere else, she probably would have left. But, she couldn’t. Buffy Summers was on a cruise ship, and it had left port two hours earlier. She was definitely stuck. The vacation that she’d spent months saving up for had just become five days stuck on a ship with William “Spike” Pratt. She groaned aloud and went to her tiny cabin.

She dropped on the small bed and tried not to remember the days she had considered him a friend. It all came back anyway. Buffy had been a freshman at Northwood College when she’d met William. She’d been a sophomore when she had finally admitted, if only to herself, she was in love with him. He’d broken her heart, but she had kept her pride. She was sure he had no idea how much he had hurt her. The key, she decided, was to make sure things stayed that way. Seeing him would probably ruin her vacation. However, as long as she didn’t let him see that, Buffy figured she would be fine. The thought made her angry. It was ridiculous. Four years had passed, there was no reason she should still be so emotional about the whole thing. Buffy knew she wasn’t the same girl she’d been; she had come into her own in the years after school. She loved her job as a counselor at the local middle school. She had no problem attracting nice, successful men and dated regularly. The almost relationship she’d had with William shouldn’t have been more than a blip in her memories. That it wasn’t, only made her more determined to make sure he thought it was.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy stood up and went over to the mirror. A plan was forming in her mind. It simply wasn’t reasonable to avoid him all week. It wasn’t a huge ship; they were bound to run into each other at some point. She decided to control that meeting on her own; the encounter wouldn’t come as a surprise to her. She would be vigilant in her awareness and never look anything less than her best. Buffy ran cold water on a washcloth, placing it on her face to get rid of the swelling caused by, what she swore were the last tears she would ever let someone with the ridiculous nickname, Spike, cause her.

An hour later, her blonde hair swishing in bouncy waves around her shoulders, Buffy tried to look casual as she made her way to the ship’s nightclub. She was dressed to stand out, in a short, tight black dress and heels that were almost too high to walk in on solid ground, much less on the slight vibration of the deck. She’d applied her make-up expertly so her lips looked full and shiny, and her hazel eyes looked as green as a cat’s. She wondered if he would even recognize her. Northwood College was small, rural and informal. She’d probably worn heels less than ten times during her whole four years there, including the graduation ceremony. She hadn’t started lightening her hair until after Spike had graduated, and she’d never worn make-up. The thought he might not recognize her made her sick to her stomach. She wondered if she would have to pretend not to recognize him the whole week too.

She shouldn’t have been worried. He saw her right away.

Spike was in the zone. He was doing what he loved, singing his own songs to an appreciative audience. Sure, the gig was on a cruise ship, but it was still a gig, and it was going well. He saw her walk in and nearly lost his breath. He barely managed to finish the song. He’d thought about seeing her again dozens of times. However, in his fantasies he had made it to the big time and was playing to sell-out stadium crowds. He would be heading backstage, see a guard giving her a hard time and give the signal to let her come back. In Spike’s fantasy, she would come up to him all shy and whisper that she’d been wrong about him, but she had always loved him. He would pull her in for a kiss and time would stand still. Spike figured he should have known better. Of course, she would see him singing in the cheesy club during the cruise ship gig. He knew it would only reinforce what they had both always known; she was out of his league.

Spike heard himself telling his band mates to take a quick break before he even thought it through. He couldn’t help himself. She was like a siren pulling him to his death, desirable despite the obvious danger. He rested his guitar against a stool and walked directly to her. “Of all the cruise ship bars in the all the world…”

Buffy forced herself to smile. “Hello, Spike.”

He nearly frowned. She’d never called him Spike. She had made it clear that she thought it was a stupid nickname, and even when everyone else at school used it, she had still called him William. He’d pretended that it annoyed him, but it hadn’t. “Buffy.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew at least one of the guys from his band had followed him. He turned to see Oz and Charles looking concerned. Spike knew he was going to have to explain why he had cut their set by two songs and bee-lined toward Buffy. He shrugged and made a small gesture toward her. “Here she is boys; the one who got away.” He grinned at her with more confidence than he felt.

Buffy saw red. She couldn’t believe he was playing it all flirty. She arched her eyebrow and turned toward his band mates. “What Spike means is, about a million years ago he considered sleeping with me, but decided I simply wasn’t worth the risk to his reputation. His loss, not mine.” Satisfied by the look of shock on his face, she turned and walked out of the bar.

Spike took another swig from the bottle of cheap vodka he’d charmed out of the cute red-haired bartender. She’d offered to cheer him up better than the booze would, but he’d politely declined. Spike was good at getting girls into bed. He considered himself even better at handling them once they were there. It was everything else about them he considered a mystery. Not, he had to admit, that he had tried to have much more than sex with many girls. He wasn’t a misogynist. Spike liked and respected woman. He enjoyed their company; he just hadn’t fallen for very many. He prided himself on playing fairly. Sure, his flings were short, but he never lied to them. He never made promises he wouldn’t keep, and he tried to stay away from the kind of girls that couldn’t handle keeping things casual. Buffy was that kind of girl, but he’d been more than willing to change his rules for her.

He remembered the first time he saw her like it had only been days instead of years. She had just arrived at Northwood, and as an R.A., he got to show her to her room. He’d been charmed well before they got there, but one look at her shy smile had told him she was firmly on the no-play list. When her boyfriend showed up for a visit two weeks later, he hadn’t been surprised. Spike had known that she was the kind of girl you married, not the kind you sweet-talked into visiting your dorm room after the Rugby match. He’d flirted with her anyway. He hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d felt lighter in her presence and found himself doing ridiculous things just to get her smile at him grudgingly. They’d had philosophy together. He’d used the opportunity, and the fact that she showed up for class early every day, to snatch things from her desk, and try to tease her into playing keep away. She never did. Buffy would just roll her eyes and wait for him to give it back. However, her lips would twitch and Spike knew she wanted to laugh. Once, he pushed all the other desks in the classroom around hers so that she couldn’t escape, then stood on the other side of the room watching her blush as the other students came in and pulled their desks back in to position. Outside of class, Buffy was quiet, but philosophy got her riled and he’d loved to hear her argue. Half the time he’d chosen the opposite side just to see her get all worked up while debating him, the rest of the time he’d disagreed with her anyway. Buffy was softhearted. Spike had figured he just knew more of the world. Occasionally, their arguments had continued in the hallway after class, and they’d both ended up flushed and out of breath. Those were the moments Spike found not kissing her the hardest.

Despite all, they’d been friendly. He’d helped when she’d reorganized the campus-recycling program, and she’d brought him her class notes when he had the flu. When he’d showed up at her dorm room with lame questions about homework, she’d let him in and they’d spend the afternoon laughing. Sometimes she’d made him leave the door open, but otherwise she’d rarely acknowledged his flirting. She’d never commented on the tension building between them either, though Spike was sure she’d felt it too. She’d been too innocent to hide all the signs. He’d watched her lick her lips when he’d moved closer. He’d seen her pupils dilate when he’d come up with friendly reasons to touch her. She’d rolled her eyes and laughed at his most obvious moves, but he’d been certain that the subtle one’s were making their mark. Not that he’d expected to act on them.

He’d told her things he’d never told anyone before or since.

Once she had asked him how many girls he had slept with and he’d told her the truth. “I don’t know exactly,” he’d said before explaining that he’d partied hard before coming to Northwood and had often woken up with a girl or two in his bed without really remembering the night before. He’d estimated there had been around fifty. She’d tried to keep the shock and disgust off her face, but he’d seen it. Spike figured that he’d lost a lot of ground that day, but was glad that he had told her the truth. He hadn’t been surprised when she admitted that her boyfriend was the only guy she’d been with. He’d tried not to rag on her boyfriend too much, but only because it seemed to make her uncomfortable. He’d figured his bashing on her boyfriend made it harder for her to pretend his flirting was casual, so he’d kept it to a minimum. He’d found that he liked having a girl he thought of as a friend, and since he’d never expected her to give him a chance to be anything more, he’d tried to make the best of it.

More than once, he’d gotten drunk and told random people that wanted to sleep with her. Only once, he’d gotten drunk and told a girl he was sleeping with at the time that he wanted to sleep with her. Spike knew that at least some of the time those stories had made it back to her, but Buffy had never said anything. He wondered how much she had heard. He wondered if she had any idea how much he’d wanted to be her man.

Buffy had heard the stories. Plenty of people thought it was too funny not to tell the girl they thought of as a bookworm that campus playboy, Spike, thought she would be fun between the sheets. Some of them thought the whole thing was a joke, that Spike was making fun of her. That was never her concern. She knew he was flirting; it might have been eight-year-old style, but it was still obvious. Buffy was never entirely sure how serious he was being, but she didn’t think he actually thought they might sleep together. They were friends. She had a boyfriend…until she broke up with him.

Buffy knew there were lots of reasons why she and Riley had broken up. They just weren’t right for each other. Still, even as it happened, even as she and Riley had cried and given each other a final hug, she’d known that she was opening the door for William.

She thought about the night of that break up as she washed her face and rubbed on night cream. William had found out within hours. She’d run into him in the dorm hallway while discussing the need for a night of wine and chick-flicks with a few friends. He had promptly volunteered to run by the liquor store for her, and being under-aged, she had gladly accepted and handed him some cash. He’d asked what she wanted and she’d replied, “Wine, cheap and plentiful.” She’d hoped that she was coming off cool.

When he’d returned a half hour later, he’d gotten a six-pack for himself as well, and he joined her and her friends for the movie night as though that happened all the time. She’d gotten a few funny looks from her friends, but no one had said anything. He’d stayed quiet, sat on the other side of the room and only made the occasional movie-related wise crack. Most of her friends had trickled out after the second movie, and the rest had left after the third. They’d all eyed him suspiciously before leaving. Spike’s reputation was well known. Blushing, Buffy had had to assure a couple that she’d be fine. Spike had waited until they were all gone before coming closer and asking in a deep and quiet voice, why they’d hugged her and told her it would be all right before leaving. “It’s nothing,” she’d said, barely hearing her own words over the pounding of her heart. He’d arched a brow at her skeptically, and she’d admitted, “Riley and I broke up”. Spike had absorbed the knowledge quietly and nodding, made her admit that she had done the dumping. She’d thought he might kiss her then, but the ringing phone had made them both turn away. Spike had smirked. “Best answer that.” Buffy had done so to find Xander on the other end calling to see if Spike had left her room yet, she’d assured him that everything was good while Spike watched. “Chaperone number one,” he’d said once she hung up, “making sure the bad man hasn’t eaten you up.” She’d had to laugh with him when the phone rang again a moment later. “And that would be chaperone number two,” he’d announced. She remembered that the drinking had made his British accent seem even stronger than it usually did and she’d been surprised since she’d always thought he played it up just to get girls and that it would all but disappear if he wasn’t playing games. He’d left pretty soon after that second call; although he’d joked that he might be too drunk to walk all the way back downstairs to his own room. Buffy had quipped that she hoped the hallway was comfortable and the tension that had built around them lightened up a touch.

He’d actually eased up a bit on the flirting for a few days after that and Buffy had wondered if he was done.

Putting on her pajamas and crawling into the tiny cabin’s bed, Buffy wondered if she would have been hurt as badly if he had been. She wondered if she would have gotten over the crush that she’d had and simply been friends with him. She liked the idea of that. She’d missed him. Even after everything else, it had taken her a couple of years to actually become angry with him.
However, he hadn’t stopped then, so Buffy supposed it didn’t matter.

Spike saw her again the next morning, sunning by the pool in white bikini. She was wearing sunglasses and had her arms stretched out over her head. The position made her back arch and drew attention to her perky breasts. Spike was torn between stomping over and tossing a towel over her and going back to his room for a cool shower. He didn’t do either of those things, but he also didn’t walk over to say hello. He figured Buffy had made it clear the night before that she didn’t want to take a trip down memory lane. Sighing, Spike headed to practice early.

Oz chuckled when he got there and Spike rewarded him with a scowl.

“Looking good, Pratt.” Oz teased dryly taking in Spike’s rumbled appearance and dark sunglasses.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Charles, the group’s drummer, laughed loudly. “It was that bartender, right? Looks like she ran you through the courses pretty damn good.”

Spike tried to ignore him.

Oz spoke without looking up from his bass. “Saw her leave with one of the waiters.”

Charles turned back to Spike. “The little blonde? She looked pissed. How did you pull that off?”

“I didn’t pull anything off. Just got a bloody headache. Can we just get this done already so I can shower before that thing tonight?”

Practice did not go well.

Buffy spent a couple of hours at the pool, grabbed some lunch, got her nails done and then headed back to the cabin to get ready for that evening’s special activity. The ship was going to stop at a tiny uninhabited island. There would be a big picnic and campfire and then everyone would come back onboard before the ship headed towards the next stop. Buffy had decided that she was done letting Spike Pratt ruin her fun. She was going to have the time of her life if it killed her. She chose a pink dress with spaghetti straps and a flirty skirt. She couldn’t wear a bra with it, but the top fit loosely and a few minutes looking at her image from different angles in the mirror convinced her that the lack of coverage wasn’t noticeable. She took the time to flatten her hair despite the humidity and pulled a couple of sections from the top into a clip. Pouting slightly, she slipped on a pair of flip-flops. Heels were sexier, but even her desire to make sure that Spike regretted not taking the chance with her he had once had wasn’t enough to make her think they were a good choice for walking around on a sandy beach. Her make-up was lighter than the night before, but carefully applied nonetheless. She considered taking her purse, but not having to pay for anything was a perk of taking a cruise and there wouldn’t be anywhere to check her make-up on the island, so she left it on her bed.

She really wasn’t surprised to spot Spike sitting on a stool, playing guitar, surrounded by smiling woman. He’d always had his pick of girls. She’d found that surprising at first, most of the girls at school didn’t seem to mind his tomcat ways, but she’d long since accepted woman were helpless against his pretty blue eyes and sexy smirk. Walking by, she heard a couple of lines from the song he was singing and recognized it as The Rainbow Connection. She couldn’t even blame the girls for being all misty-eyed. She’d once seen him end a gig with a rock cover of What a Wonderful World; there hadn’t been a dry-eyed girl left in the room.

She headed over to the makeshift bar the cruise staff had set up and ordered a Mai Tai. After she finished that one, she ordered a second and while drinking that one she met some frat boys celebrating spring break and ended up joining them for a couple of shots.

During college, Buffy Summers’ friends discovered that she could not hold her liquor. Unfortunately, that had not changed. Well past the point of being tipsy, she found Spike chatting with a girl. Jealousy, which she knew she had no real right to feel, bared its head and its teeth. She marched over and stopped beside the girl. “I hope you have a condom. Spikey here, gets around.”

Spike’s jaw dropped. He stared at her incredulously for several seconds before walking away from the girl he’d been talking to without a word and following Buffy along the path in to the jungle. His long stride had him beside her within a moment. “What the hell was that?”

She laughed. “Oh come on, Spike. It was just a little joke.”

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t find the suggestion that I’ve got a diseased prick very funny.”

Buffy shrugged and moved to walk away.

“What happened to you?” He shook his head sadly.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, same girl as always.”

“Well, I suppose I forgot then that you were a bitch.”

Buffy turned to stare at him wide-eyed. “Me?”

“I don’t what know what you think I did to you, pet.”

“Nothing. You’re right, you didn’t do anything.” Buffy walked deeper in to the jungle.

Spike followed. “I’m gonna need a bit more than that. What is this?”

“Nothing, geesh. I’m sure you can find another girl willing to play hide and seek with your…penis.”

“I’m not trying to…my god, Buffy. I’m working!”

Buffy stopped. She turned slowly and gazed at him with wide eyes and pale skin. “You charge now?”

It was Spike’s turn to look horrified. “Bloody hell! Where is this coming from? I’m the entertainment…standard singing and playing entertainment, nothing to do with my prick, thank you very much.” He shook his head. “Part of the gig is keeping the guests happy. The band can’t play since there’s no electricity, so I play a few acoustic numbers and chat up the birds.”

“Oh.” She stumbled turning back around and continued to make her way along the path.

“Where are you even going?” Spike asked, stomping along behind her.

“Just taking a walk,” she said just as the low, hanging leaf she’d just tried to swat away smacked her in the face. “And you weren’t invited.”

“Have you been drinking?” Spike asked, trying to hide his amusement while she attempted to keep all things green from touching her.

“I’m on vacation. My vacation, that I earned and I’m…I’m having the very best time of my life and your…stupid.” She turned to show him a comically large smile when she claimed to be having a great time.

“I take that as a yes, then.” He chuckled despite himself. She’d just accused him of being a hooker, a sex diseased hooker, and he couldn’t help but find her adorable.

“What?” Buffy turned around and put her hand on her hip. “Why are you ruining all my fun?”

Shaking his head, he sighed. “Not tryin’ to ruin anything. Just don’t want you to break your ankle stalking around out here by yourself. Look, it’s gotten dark. We should head back.”

“You should.”

“Buffy.” Spike sighed. “I’m not gonna just leave you out here by yourself.”

“Stop treating me like I’m a child. I’m a woman. I’m all grown and…grown!” Her fists clenched at her sides. More than anything, Buffy just wanted to be alone. She knew she had made a fool of herself, but she just couldn’t seem to stop. The plan had been to look cool and uninterested, but instead Buffy knew she was coming off like a jealous schoolgirl. She planned to have a good cry when she got back to her cabin.

“Then stop acting like one and walk back to the beach with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

Spike wanted to leave. He really wanted to simply turn and walk away, but he couldn’t. Every time he thought about it, images of Buffy hurt and alone filled his head. He worried she would fall, get bit by a snake, or that one of the jock types he’d seen her drinking with earlier would find her all drunk and take advantage. That thought made his jaw clench. He spoke through his teeth. “Turn around and walk to the beach or I swear to god, pet, I will pick you up and carry you back there myself.”

Buffy watched his face for a moment. “Fine. But when we get back, I hope I never see you again.” She brushed past him angrily and started following the path back towards the beach.

“Brilliant! I’ve sure as hell spent plenty of time in your company for this lifetime.”

Twenty-five minutes later, they were standing on an empty beach and staring at a ship that had already left. Hopelessly, they both ran to the dock shouting.

Buffy yelled herself hoarse. She jumped up and down and waved her arms.

After a few minutes, Spike stopped her with a hand on her arm. “They can’t hear us, love.”
Buffy turned to him angrily. “This is all your fault.”

Spike shook from the effort to keep his emotions in check. “My fault? May I remind you, you’re the bloody fool that had to march off in to the jungle?”

Buffy yanked her arm away from his hand and yelled. “That was your fault!”

His hold on his temper crumbled and he yelled right back. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

“Why not?”

Spike opened his mouth to yell back but froze as her words cleared the red fog of anger in his head. “What?”

Buffy gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d just said it. After four years of pretending she wasn’t hurt, that she’d never wanted him, Buffy had just admitted the truth. The horror of her embarrassment nearly lapped the horror of their situation. She was stuck on a deserted island with William Pratt. “I…I…”

Spike’s mind went to same place it went every time he thought about Buffy Summers. They’d kissed once or, more accurately, several times in the space of about thirty minutes. He’d waited two weeks after hearing that she’d dumped the cardboard cutout boyfriend. He’d played it casual. “Hey, what ya doin’ today? Want to head over to the lake? Seems like a good day for it, yeah?” She’d agreed and his heart had leapt.

He’d helped her into his car and then driven into town to pick up some beer. “Drink of choice?” He’d asked, trying to be smooth. Buffy had shrugged. She’d looked nervous and he’d been afraid she would change her mind. “No worries,” he’d said, “I know what you like.” He’d selected the girliest looking wine coolers in the place and laughed when she’d sipped the first one as if she was tasting scotch. He was still certain that her scrunching her nose was the cutest sight he’d ever seen.

They’d hung out at the lake for hours talking, drinking, and watching the water. It was five minutes from campus, but they were alone. They’d stepped barefoot over the cold rocks along the water’s edge and pointed out small, sand colored fish. Once, while they sat on a blanket, a heron landed close by, and they watched him hunt for those same small fish. They’d teased and argued and finally, he’d kissed her. Spike remembered the unusual nerves that rose in his stomach, and the effort it took to keep that kiss gentle. He’d been sure that he was going scare her away. Instead, she’d leaned closer and kissed him back. She’d trembled in his arms and tasted like artificial lime flavoring. Spike had kept his hands at her waist and his mouth soft against hers. When he’d pulled back to smile at her, they had both giggled nervously and turned to look at the water, but she hadn’t moved away. They’d kissed again and she’d placed her hands on his chest.

He’d rested his forehead against hers. “This is probably a bad idea, huh?”

“Probably” she’d echoed.

Spike had looked at the empty bottles at the edge of their blanket and panicked. It wasn’t enough to give him a buzz, but Buffy was looking at him with a dazed expression. He’d given her one more kiss before pulling away. She’d just broken up with her boyfriend, and he’d gotten her drunk before kissing her. Spike figured he’d be lucky if she was still talking to him in the morning. “I guess I should get you back to campus before your chaperones show up.” He’d forced himself to give her a wink before he’d started gathering their trash and blanket. She’d followed him to the car looking confused, and he’d driven her back and walked her into her dorm. They’d stood in the lobby staring at each for a long moment before he’d leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “You should probably get some water in you and maybe give me a couple days, yeah?”

He’d done the right thing. He’d been a good guy and good friend. He’d hoped that she might give him another chance when she was sober, but it hadn’t happened. They’d stayed friendly-ish, but things had gotten awkward.

Spike stared at the beautiful woman in front of him. Her words from the night before suddenly made sense. She thought he’d changed his mind. She thought he hadn’t wanted her. “I never thought that you weren’t worth the risk.”

“But…”

“You were drunk. I know you like to think that I’m some kind of monster, but I’d have never taken advantage of you like that. You…you were my friend.”

Buffy’s shoulders slumped and she answered in a quiet voice. “I wasn’t drunk.”

Spike arched a brow in skepticism.

“Tipsy maybe, but give me a little credit here. I knew you. I made the choice to go with you.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“I did, I just thought…”

“You thought that, after all the time we’d spent together, I would take you out to the lake, get you drunk, and fuck you on some rocks covered by a dirty blanket.” He exhaled quickly. “I’ll admit it, pet. I was probably hopin’ to round a couple of bases, but I wanted you to be my girl. If we had…I wanted it to be special.”

Buffy wanted to cry. It didn’t make sense. “But you never tried again. You just stopped. I mean you made a couple of jokes about how it was a good thing we hadn’t let things get too far and then…nothing.”

“You agreed. I was just…you said that we would have been a disaster. I just tried to…”

“Save face.”

He nodded.

“Me too.”

“But you had to know how I felt about you. You must have known. All you had to do was say the word.”

“I thought you changed your mind. That you didn’t want everyone to see you with me.”

Spike scoffed. “Please? That whole school knew how I felt about you.”

“That you wanted to sleep with me, maybe. They thought that was funny, right. Like you were going for a novelty, but you know I would have expected more. You couldn’t have started dating me; I was the teacher’s pet that worked in library. You couldn’t have dated me, and you liked me just enough not to screw me over completely.”

“Bollocks.”

“Spike…”

He stepped closer and spoke in a deep voice. “Trust me, pet. If I had screwed you it would have been completely.” He turned and walked off the dock.

Buffy took one last forlorn look at the ship as it sailed away and then followed him to the beach. Spike was sitting in the sand, so she sat down beside him. “Can’t you call them back?”

“No.”

“You don’t have like a walkie-talkie or something?”

“I’m a singer, Buffy. I’m not even normal staff. We’re just gonna have to wait until someone realizes we’re missing.”

Buffy shivered even though it wasn’t cold. “What if they don’t notice?”

“They will.”

“But…”

Hearing the fear in her voice melted Spike’s anger. He scooted closer and opened his arms. “Come here, love.” He nodded towards his lap and waited out Buffy’s hesitation. When she finally moved closer, he pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. Resting his chin on her head, he spoke in a calm tone. “I’m supposed to meet my band for practice in the morning. They’ll notice if I don’t show up. And a whole lot more people will notice if I don’t perform tomorrow night.”

“But what if they don’t realize that you’re still here?”

“Then we wait for another ship. That’s not the only one that stops here. The cruise line owns the island. There’s probably a party here every night.”

“But…”

“We’ll be fine. We just have to stay calm and wait it out.”
“How?”

Spike stood up and pulled her up with him. “We just have to get your mind off things. Once you’re not so scared it won’t seem as bad.”

Buffy looked out at the water and saw lights on the horizon. It was all she could see of the boat. “I think this is officially beyond bad, William.”

Spike noted her use of his real name with a smile. He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

“There’s no music.” She knew it was ridiculous, but it was the first thing she thought.

“I´ve got you under my skin.” Spike sang the words quietly and held his hand again.

Blushing, Buffy looked away. “Shouldn’t we be like building a shelter or something?”

“I´ve got you deep in the heart of me.” Spike gestured towards the thatched roof pavilion that the cruise line had built to use during light rain and continued singing. “So deep in my heart—that you´re really a part of me.”

Shaking slightly, she took his hand and let him pull her closer. She wrapped her arms around his waist and, closing her eyes, let him sway her slowly from side to side.


“I´ve got you under my skin. I tried so not to give in. I said to myself—this affair never will go so well. But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know so well, I´ve got you under my skin.
I´d sacrifice anything; come what might, for the sake of having you near. In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night and repeats, repeats in my ear—Don´t you know, little fool, you never can win. Use your mentality, wake up to reality. But each time that I do, just the thought of you makes me stop before I begin…”

They swayed in silence for several moments.

“You stopped singing.”

“Forgot the words.”

“Oh.” She listened to the beating of her own heart for a moment. “Maybe you could sing one of your own songs?”

“Forgot those too.”

“Oh.” She pulled her head back to look at him. “Would you have cheated on me? If we had…”

“No.”

“Just like that? You’re just sure?”

“Yes.”

Buffy frowned slightly not sure, if his response should make her feel better or worse.

Spike sighed. “I’m not a cheater, pet. I know you think I’m a whore, but…”

“I don’t think you’re a whore.”

Spike’s expression made it clear he didn’t believe her.

She shrugged. “You slept with half the girls at school.”

“I did not.”

“Half the ones I knew then. I mean there was my R.A., Cordy and that foreign exchange student from Jamaica and both of the girls from Norway. Oh, and my friend, Anya, of course.” She saw his wince and nodded. “Yeah, I heard about that one. It surprised me, I mean I thought she couldn’t stand you, but…I mean, I guess I know why now.” She didn’t mention that Anya had once told her that she should give Spike a chance, or that Anya had told her all the things that Spike had said about her being the kind of girl he could fall for. Anya had shrugged and told Buffy that she thought Spike might actually take her seriously even though she was still irritated with him. Buffy had stared at her open-mouthed and tried to deal with the fact the he’d slept with one of her good friends and that she’d had no idea.

“So that was it, really, the girls. That’s the reason you couldn’t give me a chance.”

“No. Not really, but…I was…” She sighed, but grabbed his arm when he tried to move away. “Intimidated.” She saw the doubt on his face and continued quickly. “You partied before you came to Northwood, right? Then you were two years ahead of me at school. You were four years older than I was. That’s as old as I am now. You had done all kinds of stuff, sex stuff, with all kinds of girls, and I was…barely adjusted to not having a curfew. Riley was my first, you knew that, but I was his first too. We never got past shy and fumbling. That was my experience. How could I compete with the girls you were used to? You’re acting as if you thought I could have just marched up to you and pulled you back to my dorm room. I couldn’t have. I wasn’t that girl. I…”

“I didn’t expect you to have a stripper pole routine, Buffy. I wanted you to be my girl. The rest would have worked itself out.”

“And a month later you graduated and you left and I just…didn’t have a chance.”

Spike shrugged and gave her sad smile. “I suppose that’s all for the best after all, right? I mean, cruise ship entertainment. Didn’t turn out to be much of a catch, did I?”

Buffy gave a soft laugh. “Oh, I don’t know. You’ve still got all your hair.”

His eyebrows came together. “I bloody well hope so; I’m twenty-seven years old.”

“Sure, but all that bleach—you’re lucky it hasn’t fallen out in clumps.” She reached up and tugged on his pale blond spikes.

He pushed her hand down. “Hey, don’t be messing with the hair.”

“Cause there’s so many girls around here to impress.” She laughed.

He leaned close and whispered in her ear. “The only girl I ever cared to impress is right here.”

Buffy felt her cheeks heat up. She felt like her whole world had just flipped over. “Do you really think they’re going to find us soon?”

“Are you trying to decide if I’m the last man on earth?”

She laughed softly and swatted his arm. “No, and be serious.”

He sighed. “Seriously, I’ll think someone will find us soon. In the meantime, we’re stuck and yeah…it’s a fucked up situation.”

“Are you scared?”

He frowned. “Sure. A touch maybe.”

“Okay. So what do we do? First step.”
“Fire.” He pulled a lighter out of his pocket. “Wanna help me gather some wood?”

Buffy watched the fire with a serious expression. “We should have done this quicker-first thing. Maybe they would have seen it before they got too far away.”

Spike nodded. “Maybe, but it took us a while to get it this big; it still might not have been fast enough.”

“Still, we should have tried.”

“Sorry, pet. It’s my first time being forgotten on an island.” He gave her a grin. “I promise I’ll do better next time.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I was just thinking.”

“I know. Just wanted to see you smile.”

She gave him a quick smile before getting back to business. “Okay. We have shelter.” She pointed to the pavilion. “And we have fire. What do we do next?”

“They left the ice and the barrels they used as coolers, so we have fresh water, or we will when it melts.” He shrugged. “I think that’s all we can do until morning.” He sat down next to the fire. “Sit with me.”

Buffy sat down beside him. “I feel like we should be doing something.”

“We can look for food in the morning, but until the sun comes up…this is it.”

“Right.”

“Maybe, you should sit closer. You know, conserve body heat.”

Buffy laughed. “It’s like eighty degrees. I don’t think freezing is a concern right away.”

He sighed and reached for her anyway. Tugging her on to his lap, he gave her a squeeze. “Would you just sit with me?”

Giggling at his exasperated tone, Buffy nodded before resting her head against his chest. She watched the fire and tried not to read too much, into his cuddling. Really, she figured, they barely even knew each other anymore. He’d said that he’d wanted her four years ago. That didn’t mean he still did. “William?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you…seeing anyone? You know someone special.”

His arms tightened around her. “No, love. I am not.”

“Oh.” She smiled and kept watching the fire.

“Buffy?”

“Yes?”

“Are you seeing someone special?” He was fairly certain she wasn’t, she was on vacation by herself, but his breath still caught in his chest while he awaited her answer.

“Nope.”

“Oh.” The possibility that he could get another chance, the idea that he might kiss her, sent his thoughts and pulse racing.

“Yeah, so…”

“What?” He knew he sounded too eager, but he didn’t care.

Buffy gave a nervous giggle. “This is getting silly. I mean just because we’re here and neither of us is seeing someone that doesn’t mean—w”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Spike turned them both and lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. He laughed breathlessly as he rubbed his thumb across her cheek. “I’m not usually so nervous about this.” Leaning in, he brought his lips down against hers for a soft kiss.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Buffy sighed and returned the kiss with the kind of hunger that comes from five years of wanting.

He moaned when he felt her tongue swipe at his lip and slid his hand around to cup the back of her head. Holding her tightly against him, he plunged his tongue into her mouth.

Buffy gripped his shoulders and trembled from a mix of nerves and lust. “Is this crazy?” She pulled back just enough to see his eyes.

Sighing, Spike rubbed his cheek against hers. “Sure, love. It’s mad. Does that matter?”

She shrugged. “Shouldn’t it?”

“I played this with my head last time round and we both ended up hurt. I’m trying something different this time.”

Her hands shook on his shoulders. “You are?”

He kissed her forehead. “I am.” He pulled her around so that her back rested against his chest and wrapped his arms around her again.

Buffy let her head rest on his shoulder. “Care to elaborate?”

“And warn you? I think not.”

She laughed. “This whole thing is surreal.”

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms and dropped a row of kisses along her shoulder. “You smell delicious, like coconut.”

“That would be the tanning oil. So, do you just live on the ship?”

Spike sighed. He’d wondered how long it would take before she decided that a musician that worked just enough to pay the bills was not the kind of guy she wanted to be with. He proceeded cautiously. “We’ve been doing the cruise gig for one week a month for about six months. The rest of the time, I’m at my place in LA. We play regularly at a couple of bars in the city-end up with maybe, six nights. We’re set to lay down a few tracks next week; it’ll be our first real album. We’re planning a party and all, but, um, yeah; we’re not all that successful. When things get really tight I pick up a day or two subbing at one of the high schools.”

Buffy laid her hand over his. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just wondering how hard it would be to see you. I’m living in Sunnydale; it’s not too far south of LA. It would probably be too much driving for weeknights, but maybe I could come see you play sometime on a Friday or a Saturday.”

“I’ll get a place closer to you. I can always crash with one of the guys if we have a late gig in the city.”

She turned to look at him in surprise. “Doesn’t that seem…I mean we barely know each other anymore, maybe we should...”

His mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding. He kissed her until she trembled and clutched at his shirt. “All or nothing, love, we either give this a go, a real honest to goodness full-in go, or we stop right now. You already know my vote. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

Buffy’s bottom lip shook. It was a fantasy. As much as she had thought about him, as much as it had hurt thinking he hadn’t wanted her, she had never really considered the possibility of them, again. She wasn’t sure she could think of him as anything other than a missed chance or a lost dream. She studied his handsome face; he looked the same as he did in her memories, only now he was watching her with pleading eyes. He was just the sensitive soul she had always suspected underneath all the bravado. He looked scared. She reached up to caress the side of his face. “I was in love with you.”

His eyes widened and he swallowed hard. “And now? Could you…feel that way again?” His head tilted to the side as he watched her.

She wasn’t so sure that she had ever stopped, but she couldn’t just say that. She shrugged. “Maybe.”

Spike pulled her close for another kiss. “I’d give a lot for a nice big bed right about now.”

Pulling away, Buffy gave him a sheepish look. “I’m crushing you, aren’t I?”

“Bollocks, you’re tiny.” He pulled her back. “Just want to make love to my girl where she’s all comfy.”

Buffy laughed softly. “Feeling awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you? What makes you think I’m giving it up to you tonight?”

He smirked and leaned close to her ear. “Let’s just say I plan to be very persuasive.”

“You’re forgetting how good I am at resisting your charms,” she replied with a grin.
“Trust me, love. You’ve never been tested.”

Buffy shivered involuntarily at his words and tried to hide her reaction with a laugh. “Arrogant, much?”

Spike cuddled her closer and whispered in her ear. “I used to dream about you, about touching you and tasting you.”

She inhaled quickly. Her eyelids fluttered. “William?”

“That was a lie.” He felt the surprise course through her body and had to tighten his hold to keep her from moving away. “I still dream about touching you, Buffy. I still think about that little white dress you used to wear, the one with all those buttons down the front. Do you want to hear my fantasy, love? Do you want to know where I went all those times you teased me for daydreaming while we should have been studying?” He felt her nod against his chest. “Ask me.” He kissed her shoulder and waited.

“Tell me.” Buffy barely recognized her own voice.

“In my dreams you wear that white dress and I always think that you are too beautiful for someone like me to touch. I worry that my fingers are dirty and that they’ll leave smudges, but you’re sitting on grass beside me and you’re laughing. I tell you to be careful or else you’ll get grass stains and you tell me that you don’t mind. You say that it is just a dress and I think that you are right and that the stains could never touch you.”

Buffy squeezed his arm and tried to blink back her tears. His fantasy was nothing like she expected.

Spike rubbed his cheek against her hair and brought his hand to rest on her upper arm. “I kiss you and I lay you down on the grass. Your hair fans around your face and, as you reach for me, I think that you look like the angel my mum used to put on top of our Christmas tree. I tell you that, but you roll your eyes and say that you are already my girl and I don’t have to use my silly lines.” Spike laughed softly and began tracing small circles along her arm and shoulder. “It’s not a line, but I laugh too because I’m happy and because you are. I unbutton your dress and you watch with this little smile because there are so many buttons and you know I am not a patient man. I want you so badly that I shake, but I can’t rush it. I won’t hurt you. I…”

Buffy turned in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. “I’m not as fragile as all that. I won’t break and I won’t just lie there and wait for you to do the buttons. I want you just as badly.” She drew his mouth to hers and kissed him hard.

Spike slid his hands down her back and cupped her ass. “God, Buffy.”

“In my fantasies you were never patient.” She held up her arms in the air and waited until he tugged her dress up over her head. Wrapping her arms around him, she felt the worn cotton fabric of his shirt brush against her hardened nipples and gasped. “Please want the real me, William, and not some virginal doll you dreamt up.” She unbuttoned his shirt and quickly pushed it off his shoulders before standing up to slid down her underwear.

He chuckled breathlessly, his eyes feasting on the loveliness he’d only guessed at. “I also have a fantasy where you ride me like a pro and I get to lay back and watch your tits bounce up and down.” Spike dragged her back to his lap and gripped her waist tightly. “And one in the library where you promise to do away with my over-due book fees if I can get you off in less than three minutes using only my tongue. That’s one of my favorites.” He felt her shoulders quake and knew she was giggling. “Bloody bastards threatened to withhold my diploma over seventeen dollars and thirty-three cents.”

She laughed until her stomach hurt and wondered how she’d forgotten how funny he was. He’d always made her laugh. It felt both strange and natural that he did it while she sat astride his thighs, naked and as aroused as she had ever been. “Do you have any that take place on a deserted island?” Her hands moved carefully across his chest, learning the feel of his skin and the shape of the lean muscles beneath. She noticed his breath hitch as her thumb rubbed over his nipple and made sure to repeat the motion.

He grinned. “Working on one right now.” He reached up to stroke an imaginary beard on his chin. “How do you feel about hanging upside from a tree?”

“Not as enthusiastic as I feel about this.” She reached down and cupped the front of his pants.

He swallowed hard. “But it’s an option? The tree thing?”

She unbuckled his belt slowly. “Are you getting all shy on me?”

“Not a chance, love.” He brushed her hands away and unbuttoned his jeans. “Hold on tight.” Tugging her closer, he held her in place with one arm while he rose up on his knees and pushed down his jeans. He freed his erection and slid into her warmth without any of the ceremony he’d always anticipated. It was better than he’d ever imagined. “Love.”

“William!” Buffy gasped at the sudden too full feeling of his entry.

He hugged her against him, and buried to the hilt, held still. “Too much?”

“No, just…a lot. Good lot. Oh God.”

He kissed her hard and rested his forehead against hers. “You feel so good. Fuck.” He moaned as she started moving up and his hips jerked up to meet her when she came back down. “Wanted you for so long, Buffy. Needed you.” He held back his declaration of love. He’d never said it before, but he was fairly certain it was considered bad form to say it for the first time whilst in the throes of passion.

“You have me. I’m yours.” She threaded her fingers into his hair and kissed his forehead.

Spike looked up, his pale blue eyes darkened with emotion. “I won’t give you up, you know. Gonna be stuck with me.”

“I love you.” The words slipped out before she had even realized it herself, though they were only the truth. She tensed and waited for him to panic.

His heart soared and he kissed her hard. “Love you too, pet. So much.”

They matched their rhythms as though they’d been lovers for years and reached completion at nearly the same moment.

Spike came with a hoarse shout and, carefully holding Buffy on his chest, fell backwards on the sand with their bodies still entwined.

Buffy grinned against his chest. “You’re pretty good at that.”

“That was nothing.” His breath came in short puffs. “Give me a mo. Gonna blow your mind and… other parts…all over again.”

She laughed softly.

They both fell asleep within seconds.

Buffy woke to a combination of strange sounds and lights. She blinked groggily as her brain worked to remember where she was. The feel of Spike still asleep beneath her made her smile. A red flash colored his pale skin for a second before disappearing. Her eyes widened and she turned to see a ship at the dock. They were rescued.

*********************************************************************

Epilogue-One week later

“Well, that is just the most romantic story I have ever heard.”

Buffy smiled at the petite brunette she’d just met. “I guess so, aside from the whole thinking we might be stuck there forever thing, and, you know, the lack of plumbing.”

Fred shrugged, her smile didn’t waver. “Charles and I just met at work. I wish we had an epic adventure like y’all. Except that I would been way too scared and I don’t think Charles even knows how to start a fire, so I guess its best that we didn’t.”

“I’m still wondering why you aren’t going to sue. I know you’re feeling the butterfly flutters right now. But you could have died, sweetie.” Willow frowned.

“But we didn’t, we were only stuck for a few hours and the accident wasn’t entirely- not my fault.” She cringed remembering her foolish stumbling around in the jungle. “They sent the Coast Guard as soon as Oz realized we were missing and they refunded my trip and…”

Spike wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her from behind. “Besides, they’re giving us a free honeymoon.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “Buffy?”

Blushing, Buffy nodded. They’d gathered all their closest friends together under the guise of a “We’re survivors” party, but the plan was to tell them all of their whirlwind wedding plans at once. They expected some shock and thought having each other as back up might help make things smoother. “I’m thinking we will just stay on the ship this time.”

Oz nodded solemnly. “Seems like a sound plan.” He turned to the red-haired girl at his side and smiled. “Hi.”

Willow blushed, momentarily distracted from her concern. “Hi.”

Spike chuckled. “Kitten, you’ll be lucky if I let you leave the cabin.”

She elbowed him, but gently. “Pig.” She turned to look at him with an arched brow. He had already spilled the beans about their wedding without warning her; she was hoping he could behave himself for the rest of the evening.

“Yeah, but I’m your pig.” He grinned.

She returned his smile before turning back to their friends. “Yeah, he is.”

The End