He was spell bound. Bewitched. Had to be, there was no other explanation for it. How else could he be so enthralled by the full pout of her lips, that shampoo-commercial hair, those pretty emerald jewels for eyes? Those eyes could ensnare a man and bind him, mind, heart, body and soul. If he’d had a soul to give, he’d have laid at her feet, bare as everything he was, to do with what she pleased.

And he wondered if she knew about the un-beating heart she held in her smooth hands. His laugh went unheard as the waves roared, pulling thousands of grains of sand back home. Would she let him find it in her, if he asked? No way to know. As far as she knew, he was a never-ending dream, pulled from her subconscious mind to remind her that not all men were like her father. She’d told him so, not too long ago. Last year, when she came to visit her mother over the summer, as she had every summer of her life.


She’d been young when they’d met; four, five, maybe six-years-old? He couldn’t remember. He’d been relaxing after a long hunt, stretched out under a full moon, bright as a shiny new pearl. Foot-steps and laughter had sounded off in the distance, making him crack an eye open to find the source of his disturbance. Maybe it was because he’d gotten his fill of violence that the sight of the little girl playing in the waves didn’t really make him want to move. He just closed his eye and got settled again, intent on ignoring her until her parents pulled her from the water or she wandered off to leave him in peace.


For a while, things didn’t change. She would run to the edge of the waves, arms spread wide behind her, and then laugh at her game as she ran up the beach to escape them. If he was lucky, she wouldn’t bother a stranger sitting by himself, so he wouldn’t have to deal with her. But it seemed that his favorite Lady Luck was in the middle of something; the little chit caught sight of him and wandered over, intent on identifying this odd, lonesome looking man.


When her soft approach failed to slow, he all most considered the violence, a simple toss into deep waters, leave her to the churning of the oceans currents. But that would require movement, and he’d get a massive headache from listening to her screams while she drowned. Not that he would actually hear it, but he’d know she was trying to scream. He didn’t like killing kids anyway. Waste of a good meal for when they got older.


He’d be honest with himself; she’d scared him silly when she’d plopped on his chest like he was some giant teddy bear for her to cuddle with. He was the Big Bad, damn it. A Master Vampire. He didn’t have to put up with this.


“Sod off, midget.” He snarled softly when she shifted on top of him, getting comfortable by sitting on his chest, her legs hanging off the sides. His eyes narrowed, meeting her gaze as she watched him. Her head tilted to the side, one golden curl falling in front of her face. That innocent face was cute, he’d give her that. But he wasn’t in the mood to deal with her. “Don’ make me repeat myself.”


She just kept staring at him. Then, “Why are you sitting by yourself?”


Oh, hell no. What was this, come clichéd fairy tale? Don’t think so. He refused to play the beast to her beauty. Picking her up by the scruff of her shirt, he dropped her in the sand next to him. “Sod. Off.”

“Or what?”


His demon bled through before the thought even formed in his mind, willing to deal with the stupid bints screams as long as it made her go away. “Or ’ll tear your head off an’ use your bones ‘s tooth-picks.” Her heart sped up in fear, and he waited impatiently for the sound of her hurried run. But instead of the terrified reactions he’d aimed for, a small hand reached out, and slim, chubby fingers traced the features that should have struck freezing fear to her core.


And it froze him, that touch. Some of his conquests, women he’d been ‘fond’ of who’d tried… No. That wasn’t true. No one who had gotten this close had wanted to stay with the demon long enough to find the man. He’d thought Dru had, at one point, but her interest had barely scraped demon deep, and she was the type of off and on again woman that made him wish eternity would end just a bit sooner.


It was simple curiosity that drove the girl before him, and he couldn’t decide if he was pathetic or not for respecting her the longer and longer she stayed, instead of running from the face presented to her. He was impressed.


“Mommy says that some dog’s barks are worse than their bite.” Her voice was firm and matter of fact as she retracted her touch, crossing her arms over her chest. And when that cute button nose raised in the air and sniffed daintily, his huge upheaval of laughter melted his face back into its human form. Her pleased smile told him she’d accomplished her personal mission, and the laughs cooled to a saucy smirk. This little bit had guts, saying that to someone like him.


“Was’ your name, pet?” His smirk softened to an amused smile when she stared at him, clearly not understanding. “Gotta ‘ave somethin’ to call you, ain’t I?”


“E-Elizabeth,” she murmured shyly, playing with the hem of her shorts. “I dun like it though. It’s really hard to spell, and I keep thinking I’m in trouble when I hear people say it…”


It was something he could sympathize with, though he kept the thought to himself. And really, the name didn’t suit her much anyway. Was too large a word for this slip of a girl. “Buffy, then.” He shrugged dismissively at her confused look. “Call yourself Buffy ‘nstead. ‘S short, easy to remember, damn well easier to spell, ‘n no one’s got a name like it.” Of course they wouldn’t. It sounded like a stripper’s name, now that he thought about it. Maybe he should reconsider…


But her bright, toothy smile told him she wouldn’t listen to him. She nodded eagerly, and crawled closer to him so she could lay down next to him, her small head resting on the bow of his arm as his hand rested behind his head. “I’m gonna make everyone call me that now. Buffy…” She frowned then, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Hey, what’s your name anyway? I gotta have something to call you to, ya know.”


“Mine?” He raised an eyebrow at her insistent nod. He chuckled, a dark sound that rumbled in his throat. “The Big Bad.”


When she wrinkled her nose at him, he had to wonder if he should feel more justifiably insulted instead of highly amused. “That’s a silly name for someone like you. What’s your real name?”


His real name, was it? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken it aloud. “Mm… Not sure I wan’ you knowin’, luv. Could get me ‘n a lo’ a trouble if ‘t got ou’ I was back in town, yeah?” In a perfect imitation of his own look, she raised her eyebrow, clearly telling him she wasn’t impressed. He all most laughed at her again, but settled for a grin instead. This little bit was damn fun to tease. “’Ow long you ‘ere for, pet?”


His question distracted her enough to have her forget he hadn’t answered her. “Uh… ‘Til summers over. Heh, that’s my last name. Summers.” She giggled quietly. “But yeah, I’m here ‘til the end of summer. Then I go back to my Dad’s for school.” Her expression gave way to a trembling lip, and he brought his hand out to wrap around her small shoulders.


“Was’ wrong, pet?”


She sniffled, curling in on herself before beginning her slow explanation. “W-Well… It’s just… I dun wanna go back with my Dad. I wanna stay with Mommy, but I can’t. She said maybe I could, one day, but not yet. She said that there are people who say Dad can take better care of me.” She pulled herself closer to him, and he could feel the light trembles that had begun to wrack her small frame. “But he doesn’t like me. He yells at me a lot, and sometimes he’ll pull on my hair.”


His eyes flashed amber, fully aware it wasn’t just the man in him responding to her pain. It was his demon, the part of him that turned instinct into something dangerous, something primal, that was reacting to her. It took effort to control his building rage. “You tell your mum?” When she shook her head no, he tightened his hold, hard enough to hurt. He released her immediately at her small cry of pain, hoping he hadn’t hurt her too badly. She let him resettle her on his shoulder before hugging her again. “Why not, luv? She’d wan’ t’ help.” The bitch better have, otherwise he’d go ballistic.


But small tears broke through her eyes, and she buried her face in his chest to hide them. “I dun wanna make more trouble for Mommy though! I… I told her, once, that he’d pulled my hair.” He had the strong feeling that his protective snarl had made her feel better, because her trembles slowed down a bit, though the tears still fell. “They started fighting. He called me names, and Mommy got madder and madder and… And then he said something else, something I can’t remember, but she stopped, and… She hugged me, really tight, and she cried. She kept saying she was sorry, really, really sorry. I didn’t get it, and I couldn’t ask because Dad took me back to his house.” A pause. “I was supposed to stay another day, but…” A shake of her head. “That was in March, though.” She yawned then, and snuggled close.


With a quiet sigh, he carefully picked her up, holding her against his chest with one hand as the other brushed her hair from her eyes. She’d fallen asleep on him, but he wasn’t worried about it. A few quick sniffs and he found his way to her Mom’s home with little trouble. Knocking wasn’t an option, but there was a swing on the porch, so he adjusted the pillows and laid her down, taking his duster off and laying it over her. He’d find a way to get it back later.


As he turned to go, a small voice called him back. “What’s your name?”


And as he gazed into those pretty green eyes, he knew in his heart of hearts that he would never be able to deny this little girl anything. So he bent down next to her, leaning in to kiss the small tear stains from her cheeks. “William, sweetheart. Name’s William.” He smiled tenderly, brushing a curl behind her ear. “But is’ our secret, kitten. You’re the only one who can call me that, understood? To everyone else, ‘m Spike.”


She smiled tiredly, and nodded. “Kay. Night, William.”


He pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Night, Buffy. Sweet dreams, luv.”


For the rest of the night, he was never far from her. He wouldn’t leave her defenseless. Not even after her mother came out and took her inside, heart pounding in relief, did he leave. For now, he’d protect her, his little Goldilocks.


And while William fretted over what he could do to help her while a vampire, Spike gleefully imagined everything he could do to the bastard who dared to call himself Buffy’s father.






TBC

The closer and closer she got to Sunnydale, California, the more fidgety she became. And Buffy Summers was No Fidget Girl, always. Well… Usually. Mostly. Sometimes. Did you need something? Right, thought so. Fidgets where a no-go. The fact that she’d just spent six hours plane hopping between three different cities and still had to sit in a car for an hour were minor details. Now being two weeks late to getting to her mother’s home on the Beach… That was reason enough to start panicking.

She could have happily killed Hank for making her wait those extra two weeks. If it had been over something important, like a sick relative, or even a fire at his office, well, that she could understand. Those where things that required immediate attention, thus allowing her the usage of her emergency-only credit card that would buy her plane ticket. But NOOO. That certainly was not an option. A strong spirited, independent woman who knew how to defend herself from any fool who tried to cope a feel (her words) was simply not allowed to make those kinds of big decisions by herself. Such a young, gullible, wishy-washy teenager with no respect for authority (her father’s words), would simply have to grow up and take responsibility for her actions.

What actions? You mean that thing called breathing? Sod it.

Hank and nearly had a canary at that. Knowing such language, what kind of moronic hooligans used such phrases? There would be none of that talk in this house. Absolutely not. And if she wanted to keep saying such things, Buffy was certainly more than welcome to spend the rest of the summer with her little sister, Dawn, at their Grandmothers.

Hank was a cheat, and a downright dirty one at that. It shut her up, and he’d been able to drag her to Phoenix, Arizona for two weeks to help him entertain his important clients. Running corporations that supplied loans and land to small business owners was an important job after all. Hank called it a corporation; Buffy called it a swindling business. Hank said 19 year olds needed to stop being so independent and just join the Democrats all ready. That’s all they were good for, besides racking up bills to over-priced colleges so they could study the ‘Fine Arts.’ After all, it wouldn’t be long until she would see the error of her ways and get her head out of her ass long enough to apply to law school.

She hadn’t spoken to him sense, but she had played the part of dutiful daughter well enough to calm his temper. Those first few nights, she had gone with a sophisticated secretary look: long black slacks, a freshly pressed white dress shirt and cork-screw high heels for a splash of color. It wasn’t until the end of the first week that she had noticed there was a rather large white elephant in the room: 21 year-old Riley Finn.

How Buffy had missed him that first week was impossible to know, but she was glad she’d finally caught on when she had. At least now she knew the name of the game; rising competition, let the future generations play nice and set up for a future together. When’s the wedding? And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected that reaction, apparently Riley had been making puppy eyes at her the entire week, and she had just never noticed. As a result, she had worn the wildest, most appropriate outfits she’d had at her disposal. Not even her disgustingly short, slutty flamingo-pink cocktail dress had managed to get him off her tail.

Riley was an all-around nice guy, and it was driving her nuts. He was one of the sweetest, most considerate boys she knew, and all she wanted to do was kill him flatter then dead. The fool had either had no spine, or just didn’t know how to treat a lady. If he wasn’t fumbling for topics, he was showering her with compliments she knew couldn’t be sincere. If Spike had been there (a dream come true, why the hell couldn’t he be real for just one damned second?!), Buffy knew without a doubt he’d have socked poor Riley in the jaw for everything, and kidnapped her so they could have raunchy sex in his car.

Well, maybe not the sex. That was one particular dream she hadn’t given shape just yet. Maybe this time…

Sunnydale was calling.

~*~

The longer it took for the sun to go down, the faster Spike’s apprehension rose. With the summer months came shorter nights, which meant even less time to spend with Buffy when she finally dragged her skinny ass back to her mothers. Hell, she should have been home two weeks ago. Two damned weeks! And he’d spent every one of those nights on the beach waiting for her, like always.

When the sun set, Spike’s anxiety climbed even higher. It seemed to worsen for every moment he spent without her. The minutes began to feel like hours, the hours began to feel like years.

He scanned the area again. With no sign of her in sight, he snarled under his breath, and once more settled down to wait.

~*~

Sleep had come on quickly for her. It was well past midnight, which meant she had crashed into her bed in an exhausted slump at least three hours ago. And in the dream that she always wished could become her reality, Buffy’s eyes opened. Her dream body hummed with anticipation, and a quick check at the floor of her door told her the hall light was out. It only took a second to shove her comforter off, ignoring the sudden chill as she grabbed her flats before leaving her room. Joyce was sound asleep by now, making the trip down stairs and out the front the door an easy success with a skill that spoke of a lifetime of practice.

It never occurred to her that Spike should have just appeared in her room when her dream eyes opened. She never wondered why she had to travel the half-a-mile walk to the beachfront so she could play pretend for a few merciful hours with a man she had conjured in her mind’s eye. Buffy never bothered with the silly questions that should have given her doubts. Why was it that she would rather spend the night waltzing in her William’s arms on a dance floor caked in blood, instead of spending time with and getting to know a normal, considerate boy like Riley?

She never asked why, never put it into words. It didn’t matter, because her heart was pointed in the only direction it knew to go—

Straight for the monster lurking behind the eyes of her man.

~*~

Spike caught her scent long before she caught sight of him. But instead of running to her like every pore in his body demanded, he sat still, waiting for her to approach him. He had taught her to step quietly and fluidly against the crackle of rock, twigs, and sand under her feet. She had taken so well to the training that there had been nights when Buffy had managed to catch him off guard completely. He was immensely proud of it, too, and had rewarded her with surprises on the nights that followed them.

Not tonight though. No, she wouldn’t have been able to creep up on him even if she’d been made of only moonlight tonight. Those soft steps, her scent permeating the air, were something he’d been looking forward to for far too long.

Her approach ceased. Only the sound of her breathing reached him. “… William?” He caught the nervous edge to her voice, could feel her eyes taking him in, tasting the atmosphere around him. She was nervous about being around him. Buffy, of all people, was nervous around him. Taut muscles tensed even further as his irrational fears began over whelming him again, needing to answer her, praying to a god he’d forgone centuries ago that she wouldn’t leave him behind to face a sunlit reality…

He jumped when her arms encircled him, clutching him closer, her soft breasts pressed to him tightly enough that he could feel the fluttering of her heart on his back. “Moron, you scared me! Why didn’t you answer when I called you?”

And just like that, all the tension in his animated corpse drained, leaving him to go lax in her grip. With no effort at all, he tilted his head towards hers, pressing their temples together as he pulled one of her hands to his lips, kissing it softly. “Missed you to, pet. Thought you weren’ gonna come this year.” He intertwined their fingers, pulling her around his body to hold her against him. “What took ya so damn long, anyway?”

Buffy shook her head, nudging him to lift his chin so she could rest her temple on his unmoving pulse. “Hank, what else? Wanted me to ‘meet and greet’ with his clients.” A smile lit her face then, pulling back enough to look him in the eye. “He thinks I’m hanging out with a bunch of deviants because I said ‘sod.’ Gah, you should have seen his face! I couldn’t stop laughing!”

He glared at her in mock anger, his hands catching her at the waist and pushing her back to the ground. “You mean you let your ol’ man come between us? If tha’s the case, then off with you, I don’ do incest—”

“Bad mental images!!” Buffy smacked him in the chest, scowling and squirming as she tried to move from underneath him. With a throaty growl, he lunged at her neck, nipping her with his fangs as she squealed in surprise. His suave smirk back in place with the reappearance of his favorite lady, Spike gave her racing pulse a lick, adjusting his stance so he could loom above her.

No matter how menacing he wanted to be, he could never keep a straight face when she was laughing at him, even with his game face on, though when he’d changed he wasn’t sure. “Keep laughin’ like that, watch wha’ I do to you.” His raised eyebrow cooled her sound, until light giggles took their place. And like magic, she changed.

With a quiet intensity in her eyes that always surprised him, Buffy reached up to cradle his cheek. The urge to shift back to his human face was hard to resist, but knowing she was seeing the man in his demon… That she could stand to be around him even after seeing the demon in the man allowed him to relax for her.

Time after time, she amazed him. His demon hadn’t sent her running when she was small, and it seemed to only attract her more the older and older she got. With an unreadable expression, he cupped his hand over hers, turning into her palm to nuzzle it. She was still so young, enough to want the fantastical, to still be impressionable, if manipulated correctly.

But she had the wit out-maneuver those attempts. She was old enough to see the differences between right and wrong, to understand that her choices could have life-changing consequences. And damn it all, he loved her for it. Stupid chit could drive him out of his bloody mind if she wanted, he’d still follow her to the ends of the earth.

His silence must have gotten to her though, because then she decided to knee him in the gut so hard it sent him sprawling. “Damn it, woman!”

“Well stop staring! I always get the feeling you’re going to eat me or something.” She stuck her tongue out at him, her lower lip jutting out into a pout. Buffy’s eyes widened and her hands jumped to cover her mouth as he dove down to catch that full bottom lip. With a triumphant grin, his hands slid under her shirt so his fingers could dance along her sides. “Sp-Spike!! Stop, stop, stop!"

"Or wha'? You gonna stake me, pet?" He grinned wickedly, whispering in her ear as he dropped his voice to a low purr. "'Say your righ' words,' the goblins said... You know your magic words, luv?"

He felt the shudder that rode her body, the scent of her arousal making his eyes roll into the back of his head and his cock harden in interest. He hadn’t meant for the throb in his voice to echo quiet that way, but damn the girl… It took everything in him to keep from shredding her clothes so he could drive into her heat.

But he was still tickling her, and her hands pushed against his shoulders as he mercilessly continued. “I am not calling you... B-Big Bad!” His indignant huff just made her laugh even harder, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “Spike, please!”

He grinned wickedly as his hands came to an achingly slow stop, his tongue curling behind his teeth as he leered at her. “Was all it took, pet. Though if you wanna trade ou’ Big Bad for Master, I wouldn’ have ‘nything against it.”

Buffy just smiled innocently at him, used to his teasing. “One of these days… In your dreams, anyway.” Quick as a bullet she jumped from beneath him, taking off in a run. Spike’s dark laugh was self-depreciating, but he took off in the obligatory chase after her, the shoes she had yet to actually put on still in her hands as she raced up the beach.

Spike swiped and Buffy dodged, their feet crashing in the waves as they ran. Her backwards smile told him she knew he’d missed on purpose, and the challenge in her eyes pushed him forwards, made the demon search out ways to catch her and claim his dominance. ‘Not that way, though. Not yet, when she still thinks I’m just her imagination.’ But it left a lot of options open that he had a knack for exploiting.

He saw an opening and lunged, intent on shoving her into the water. He didn’t know how, but she’d managed to side-step him at the last minute, dodging his arms and tripping him up so he fell to his knees. Buffy’s smile was amused at his slack-jawed disbelief. “The hell did you—”

“Kick boxing.” She faked to his right as he lunged for her again; landing an upper-cut on his chin that left him stumbling. The impressed look on his face must have shown as he inspected the forming bruise, because her smile turned smugly embarrassed. “I wanted to show you that I wasn’t defenseless… A-And I wanted to impress you, ‘c-cause I was thinking it would be cool if we could spar, what with you being all super-strong, and yeah, I’m babbling now…”

Buffy’s hands clenched and unclenched into fists nervously as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Spike had no reason to deny that he’d been jealous of another man before, but to be jealous of teeth… Then the rest of her sentence clicked. “You wen’ and trained so we could spar?”

“… Maybe.” Her nerves cooled as she tossed him a punch he caught with ease. “Not like you need a sparring partner anyway.”

“Stop flattering me and pu’ some force in that punch.” Spike wanted to see how much training she’d done in her attempt to impress.

Judging by their constant dodges back and forth, their hits that would land and come back for another as soon as it left told him exactly what he wanted to know. Buffy had trained hard for this, to be able to keep up with him. Their movements where synchronized, like well-practiced dancers putting on their final performance. He loved every minute of it.

Spike couldn’t think of any real reason why he’d let her tackle him into the water again. Her smell was a constant distraction, a subtle thing that flew on the airs currents and bathed his senses in light. There was nothing playful about their new position, no easy laughs, just hard, breathy pants at the feel of her around him, her body pressed to every contour of his. Her scent left him reeling, even as they tore each other from the currents to smash their lips together.

Her fingers left him on fire as he reached her shirt, his hands curling and melding to her sides as he ran them up her frame to rub callused thumbs over her pebbled nipples. A moan of approval echoed in his mouth, and she shoved and shimmied on top of him, rocking into his straining erection as they rolled back into the shallows.

Spike let his tongue do the talking as he plunged into her mouth, wild thrusts that matched the grating of their hips below them, a mimic of everything he wanted to do to drive her mad with him. Forcefully, he released her mouth, groaning in restrained effort as she called his name, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as she bite and sucked at his neck.

He wanted her a thousand times more than any woman he’d ever been with, and not being able to claim her, holding back his need for her pleasure was killing him. His forehead rested on her racing pulse as his face contorted to its true form. With a desperation that surprised even him, his teeth sank into her neck, and his mind raced as her blood flooded his mouth.

Buffy’s scream gave way to her climax as her nails dug crescents into his back, her teeth clamped on his jugular. That she’d marked him, even in such a small way, was enough to send him roaring his passion after her.

He lightly shook his head as his face returned to normal, lapping at the small wound. It would be gone by the end of the night, as always. He nuzzled her cheek, leaning up to kiss her forehead. He chuckled lightly when she smacked his chest, having caught his human face after feeling the demon. His grinning leer had Buffy rolling her eyes, but that didn’t stop her from pulling him down for another mind-numbing kiss.

~*~

Making up for the weeks Buffy hadn’t been in Sunnydale had been the most fun she’d had in months. William must have had it all planned from the beginning—a fancy dinner, a night at the fair, and plenty of heavy petting in between. She’d even gotten him to let her watch as he hunted, having always been slightly fascinated with the concept, and feeling more than a little relieved he hadn’t snacked on any women. She had let him feed from her a few times before, and while she knew how it felt, she had never really seen it happen herself.

It didn’t matter now though. Dawn was coming, and Spike was walking her home, their foreheads together as he kissed the back of her palm. There were times, like now, when she couldn’t be sure if William and Spike were two completely different people. But then he’d do something, swing her in the air and pull her down to meet his desperate kiss and she’d see them both become one again.

And the best part? She had him all to herself. It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t wake up in his arms, just like it wasn’t fair to rely on him so much for her deteriorating sanity. The dreams became more and more real, the conversations more meaningful, the thoughts more pronounced. Spike had never left a real mark even when he’d fed from her, and Buffy wanted one, just to see if it would still be there when she woke up in the morning.

But now wasn’t the time for such thoughts, because Spike had pulled her flush against him and was kissing her again, and Buffy’s hands came up to wrap around his neck so her fingers could bury themselves in his hair. It was so easy to let the digits knot in his curls, his hair gel having washed out in the ocean water. The peroxide blond strands felt like strings of silk, and she nipped and sucked at his lower lip as her back met rough tree bark, tugging his head back so she could trail wet kisses up his jaw and high cheek bones.

His erection was pushing against the heat between her thighs, and she could feel his cool hands curl around her ass to hike her higher up on his body, making her wrap her legs around his hips tightly to keep her balance. She couldn’t grind against him properly at this angle, but that didn’t stop her from pushing her breasts into his chest, her hands moving to cup his face so she could stare into those intense blue eyes, now darkened to an indigo with heady lust.

Then something changed. She didn’t know what it was, but Spike had gone completely stiff under her, and his eyes hardened in dark anger as he set her down, hands never leaving her sides. His nostrils flared, his breathing carefully controlled as her hands left his face to curl on his arms, her worry evident on her face. Buffy was sure she had done nothing wrong, so what was he sensing that she couldn’t see? “Spike? What—”

“—the hell are you doing, you idiot?” She hadn’t at first realized she was speaking simultaneously with someone, and she turned at the sound of the annoyed voice that had ruined their heated moment.

Tall, dark, and handsome where the first words that came to mind at the sight of this new character in her dreams, but she couldn’t really find it in her to have any emotion other than aggravation at seeing him. “Who are you?”

No name eyed her thoughtfully, then ignored her question completely and looked back to her date. “I asked you a question, William. What the hell are you doing?”

“Frankly, Peaches, it’s none of your damn business what, the hell I’m doing.” Spike moved to block her from the stranger’s sight, taking one of her hands and squeezing. Apparently he saw something about this she didn’t, because he knew damn well she could take care of herself. He better, anyway.

“Seems to me like you’re looking for a meal, and I’m not about to let that happen.” No name moved forwards, and Spike took one step back. “Come on now; don’t make me embarrass you in front of your date.”

“Sod off, Angel. I don’ ‘ave the time nor patience to keep from beh-heading you.” Spike’s accent seemed to come thicker the angrier he became, and Buffy moved to stand next to him, his hand never leaving hers.

“Go away, will you? We’re kind of on a date here, and you’re ruining it.” Buffy grinned smugly at ‘Angel’s’ dumbfounded expression, then turned and left with Spike following close behind.

After a few more minutes, they reached her house, and she turned to stare at his shocked expression, trying in vain to hide her laugh as he stared at her. “You can stop gaping anytime now.”

She smiled sheepishly as he continued though, until she stuck her tongue out at him. He chuckled then, tugging her close and kissing her breathless. “You’re one hell of a woman, Buffy. Never forget that.”

She didn’t know why, but hearing him say that to her made her want to cry. Why, why, why couldn’t he be real? She was tired of her heart breaking. “Stop acting like you know me, jerk.” She couldn’t keep the crack out of her voice, and she choked on a sob, clinging to him.

“Shhh… Don’ cry, pet. ‘m not goin’ anywhere.” Spike’s arms tightened around her, and she only clung tighter as his hands stroked her hair. “Buffy, luv, what are you cryin’ for?”

“Because! You’re not really here, and it’s killing me!” She tried to bury her face in his chest, but Spike tilted her head up and kissed away her tears, whispering the sweetest things she’d ever heard in her ear. It wasn’t fair… She loved him so damned much, why couldn’t’ he be real for her? Or hell, if he couldn’t be real, then why couldn’t she just stay asleep forever? “God, Spike, I need you…”

“And I’ll always be here.” His forehead came to rest against hers, and he stroked her cheek lovingly, their breaths turning to fog between them. “Long as you want me, I’m here.”

Buffy sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I’ll always want you. Are you prepared for that?”

Spike’s smile was heart-stopping. “More then you know, luv. Now come on, off to bed with you. You’re going to wake up soon.”

“Am not.” She jumped into his arms and kissed him fiercely, sure she could stay asleep for just a little longer. But Spike was stronger than she was, or just had more practice resisting, because even as she kissed him, he was leading her towards her front door. “Let me stay a little longer, William… Please…”

Spike’s groan was desperate, but he shook his head. “You nee’ your rest, kitten. I’ll be here tomorrow, don’ worry.”

“You promise?” She stared into his eyes, setting her feet firmly on the ground.

“Promise.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Buffy was sure that things would change soon enough. “And pet?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay away from Angel.” His grip on her tightened, though whether from protectiveness or possessiveness, she wasn’t sure. “Don’ care what other blokes you talk to, but keep away from him, all right?”

She watched him, searching his eyes. It was concern that radiated there, and she nodded her consent. “Kay.”

His answering smile was dazzling, and she returned with a thousand mega-watt one of her own. “Good. Now off with you.” He nudged her to her front door, but refused to cross the threshold. “I’ll see you soon.”

With one more longing glance, Buffy pulled her would-be lover close for a kiss, and disappeared inside.

Good night.


TBC…