'And I don't mean to presume, you don't love me like you say you do. But you're gonna have to prove that you're true and you're not just talkin' smooth' The Bronze erupted in applause as the song's final bars faded out. I stood, partially hidden in an alcove, clapping along with everyone else; wishing the girl on stage, was mine. I had been deliberately coming to see Buffy Summers sing for over a month now, after accidentally catching a performance at the Bronze one night after Drusilla, my ex-girlfriend; otherwise known as 'The Evil Queen Bitch from Hell', had left me. She justified leaving by saying I'd changed too much, which was bloody convenient because she was the one who forced me to change. Gone were my glasses, brown hair and suits; in came the contacts, peroxide hair dye and leather. At first I had resisted, but then I figured, what the hell, I'd already followed her across the pond from England to the sodding USA, changing my appearance was insignificant in comparison to that move.

So I did it, the hair, the clothes, the attitude, I even started smoking. But Dru couldn't handle the new female attention I was gathering with my new look, so she left me two weeks later, and I ended up in the Bronze, listening to Buffy Summers sing. Something clicked inside me watching that woman with blonde shoulder length hair, golden skin, and the voice of an angel. I finally realised what I had with Dru was a sham. The golden goddess on stage was the one for me.

There were two problems with this scenario. One, she didn't even know I existed, and two, she had a huge broody boyfriend who threatened anyone who so much as looked at Buffy the wrong way. She was his trophy, but he still liked to flirt with the scantily clad females who would bat their eyelashes and pout for his benefit, and he didn't even care if he did it in front of her. But Heaven forbid Buffy should be allowed to talk to any of her fans. Anyone who tried got the 'death glare' from tall and forehead.

In short, he was a bastard. Not that I could do anything about it, I was as much a pansy as any other bloke in that club. Obviously Buffy loved him, and just saw him as protective, sheltering her from being hurt by anyone, or at least, I hope she did. Love can do strange things to the mind.

And it's not like he was ever not there. Every performance he stood sentry, listening to her sing, but I don't think he ever got the meaning behind her words. She was laying herself bare for everyone to see. She sang about family, about love, and about heartbreak, and everyone empathised with her every word. Tonight's song had been an interesting one, because it suggested trouble in paradise.

I snapped out of my thoughts to the feeling of being watched. I looked up to see a flash of her fiery green eyes before they quickly looked away while her poncey boyfriend started ranting about something I couldn't quite hear. She shouted back at him, and I managed to hear the words "Screw you Angel!" screamed from her lips just as she stormed out through the exit.

He was called Angel! It was bloody priceless! I couldn't stop myself from laughing, however, I quickly stopped when I realised he was standing in front of me, looking like he was out for blood. "Find something funny?" he seethed "Well, how about you don't look at my girlfriend ever again, or we'll see which one of us is laughing"

He turned and ran out the same door Buffy had left by, with his long leather coat swishing behind him. It took a moment for me to process what just happened. Angel thought I was hitting on Buffy? Where the hell had he got that idea from? I downed my whisky, and got myself another. Getting drunk soon became my top priority, as long as those drinks kept coming, I was a happy bloke.

Later that evening, I stumbled out of the Bronze absolutely pissed, with a blonde chit called Harmony attached to my left arm, thoroughly intending to get all remaining feelings about Drusilla and Buffy out of my system.

I took her home that night, and can't remember anything else until I awoke to Harmony screeching "Blondie Bear! Get up, I'm all lonely and bored, and I don't even have my unicorns!" It was at this point I realised what a colossal mistake I had made the night before. I buried my face in my pillow, and tried to think of the best way of getting her out of my apartment as quickly as possible. I decided to use a tactic some mates of mine had mentioned. I got up, located my wallet, turned back, looked into those big brown eyes and said "Mornin' pet, how much I owe you?"

It worked like a charm. She cried, huffed and shouted at me for "being a heartless bastard", which I kind of was, and that I'd never see her again (I didn't have an issue with this). I look back now, and wish I'd let her down a little easier, but I've changed. The guy I was back then was confused, in pain, and, that night, completely pissed. I made a mistake. Not my first and certainly not my last, but a mistake nonetheless. But sometimes mistakes can push you in the direction you need to go. And my direction from that night on was Buffy Summers.

I had performed at the Bronze many times, but that was the night that changed everything. Everything Angel and I had been arguing about for what seemed like the entire six months I'd been dating him finally came to a head. I tried to look at the overprotectiveness as cute, but the novelty soon wore off when he let the other skanks in the bar drape themselves all over him.

I was expected to brush it off, but it angered me that I was trapped with him while he chatted up every girl in sight. But then, about a month before that evening, my peroxide blonde knight started showing up in the audience. I never saw his face, but there was just something different about him, and it wasn't just his skin-tight leather trousers. It took me a month to gather the up courage to try and communicate with him, until finally; the night came when I walked down from the stage and looked directly at him.

I had hoped Angel would be too busy with his groupies that he wouldn't notice my attention had wavered, but unfortunately, the moment my knight's cerulean eyes locked onto mine, Angel turned back to me. When he noticed who I was looking at, he shouted "After all the love and attention I give you, you're eyeing up him?"

I forced myself to look into his rage filled eyes as he continued.

"Don't you realise, you're worthless to anyone but me. I found you when you had nothing, if you let me go, you'll have nothing again"

This hurt, but was also partially true. Ten months ago, my parents had kicked me out for quitting my job at the Doublemeat Palace to focus on singing full time. Angel had found me at a bar, desperately trying to convince the manager to let me sing. He had a friend who needed a roommate and promised he'd protect me. He was the one who had suggested the Bronze as a place to work. He'd been so caring; I hadn't doubted him for a second.

It wasn't until we became a couple four months later, that everything started to change. It started small, but eventually he controlled what I wore, who I spoke to and where I went. If I was five minutes late to meet him, he accused me of cheating. It got far too extreme but, because I felt like I had no one else to turn to, I let him manipulate me. My freedom consisted of my short sets on the Bronze's stage.

But after six months of being submissive, seeing my knight's eyes inspired me to fight back. "Screw you Angel!" I screamed, and fled out of the door, hoping he wouldn't follow me. When a few seconds passed and he still hadn't appeared, I breathed a sigh of relief and slowed my pace to a walk, barely registering the footfalls that were making their way closer.

I stopped and turned to find a stormy looking Angel racing in my direction.

Too worn out to try and escape, he easily reached me. For a moment, he just stood there in front of me, silently, breathing heavily. He looked me in the eyes, and some of the storm clouds cleared from his face.

"Buffy," he sighed, "You know I only act this way because I want to protect you"

It was the same story every time. But it had been used so often, it had created two sides which warred over whether I should leave him or not. One side wanted his approval, it wanted not to be alone in the world. The other had been pulling away from him for months, having recognised the obsession for what it was, his need to control someone. There was only one thing they agreed on, it was a relationship based on fear, need and want, rather than love.

I didn't know what would happen if I ever left, but I didn't want to find out. His anger had a tendency to fly out of control. I was afraid the man who had cared for me might start hurting me, in ways I didn't want to imagine. There was no way I was leaving this relationship on my terms. I just didn't have the courage.

And that was how, hours later, I ended up alone in bed after a round of sex designed to fulfill his needs, wondering how following a dream had killed me so much inside. I realised I would always be in Angel's debt, he took a chance on a complete stranger, and that maybe, I was partially paying for that debt by giving him everything but my voice.

But there was light on the horizon, my knight had seen me staring. One look into those eyes told me everything I ever needed to know about him. He would never be like Angel, because those blue eyes showed the hurt I had been seeing in my own since the day my parents kicked me out onto the streets. It was hope, and it was enough to get me through another night of jumbled thoughts and twisted feelings.

I opened my notebook, and began writing , pouring out and over exaggerating the emotions I was feeling, until I was too tired to write anymore. I fell asleep , blissfully unaware of the revelations and roller-coaster rides to come.

The next day began like any other. I woke up with a dry mouth and a pounding head, trying to block out overly perky roommate Cordelia singing along to Mariah Carey at the top of her lungs and sounding like a wailing cat. I dragged myself out of bed, and told myself for what seemed like the millionth time that there had to be somewhere else I could live other than this.

But my wages from performing weren't much, and I was scared to answer any newspaper adverts asking for roommates in case they were written by psychos. So, life continued as normal for the next couple of days. Song writing during the day, with Cordelia as watchdog, and spending my evenings with Angel.

Then came the morning where I woke up alone to Cordelia shrieking, only it wasn't along to any song. Her vocal acrobatics were joined by another set, lower, ones I recognised. Shocked, I got up and crept into the hallway. Cordelia's door was ajar, so I peeked in to see the back of a familiar form with her in her bed. I felt anger and relief, but was too confused to move from the spot where I was standing.

Suddenly noticing me over his shoulder, Cordelia screamed "Buffy!", and the figure stopped and turned to face me. He had the audacity to smirk. He had controlled me for so long, months of almost forced devotion, and without warning, this! Cordelia looked on, waiting for the outburst to occur.

She didn't have to wait long, the dams of my self-control shattered, and suddenly everything was made perfectly clear. "You son of a bitch!" I screamed, "You used and controlled me, when you knew all I wanted was someone beside me!"

Angel just stood there, staring at me, with that amused smirk still plastered on his face. It was time to get away from this malicious bastard once and for all. I ran back into my room, collected what little clothes and possessions I had and shoved them into my old battered suitcase. My fingers trembled as I tried to zip it up, but I managed it eventually.

As I headed towards the bedroom door, I turned to face the room that now showed no trace of me ever living there. It had never felt like home. I took one final glance round the apartment, and then it was out the front door and into the unknown.

I proceeded to walk to the library while I tried to figure out my next course of action. A sense of freedom washed over me and the Californian sun beamed down on my face as I wandered through Sunnydale.

Soon, the shadow of Sunnydale library loomed over me, I pushed open the door, and went in. My eyes adjusted to the change in light, and the reception desk and rows of books came into focus. I navigated myself through the shelves straight to what I had deemed 'my corner' ever since Mum had brought me here as a kid, only to find a girl of about my age with long red hair, curled up into, sobbing heavily into her hands.

"Are you okay?" I enquired, feeling immediately stupid afterwards as it was obvious she wasn't, "Is there anything I can do to help?" She looked up at me with a mascara lined face and tears brimming from her eyes. She sniffed.

"Well, not unless you can go back in time and stop my boyfriend," she paused, "No, ex-boyfriend from cheating on me".

I almost laughed at the similarity of our situations. "If I could do that, I wouldn't even be here," I admitted as I slumped down beside her, "I found my boyfriend in bed with my roommate this morning!"

"Men suck!" she declared, in an almost inaudible whisper. "Yeah," I agreed, "I'm starting to think lesbians have the right idea!"

She gave a small choked giggle. "I'm Buffy, I would say pleased to meet you, but neither of our circumstances are great" I extended my hand out for a handshake. She shook it, and quietly replied "I'm Willow"

"Willow?" I asked, "What an unusual name!" Willow smiled and threw back "Coming from the girl called Buffy?" "Touché, you're obviously feeling better," I replied.

"A little," she responded, "It actually makes me feel better knowing I'm not the only person going through this."

I got what she meant. It was a situation you couldn't understand unless you were going through it, and, by sheer coincidence, we had each found someone else who was. Meeting Willow that day was nothing short of a miracle. Thanks to her, I didn't sleep on the street that night. It turned out than she had owned the apartment where she and her ex-boyfriend Oz had been living until she had kicked him out after finding him with Veruca, the singer in Oz's band.

When he had left, he had removed all his band gear from the second bedroom, leaving it free for its initial purpose. After talking all morning in the library, Willow and I went for coffee in the Espresso Pump, I moved in that afternoon, assuring Willow I would pay rent and the best thing was I wasn't alone. Another stranger's kindness and empathy had prevented me from sleeping on the streets, only Willow didn't seem the psycho bitch type.

Our first night as scorned women was spent eating Ben n Jerry's while watching Sliding Doors. We both swooned over the British accents. As the movie came to a close, we made a pact to take a one month hiatus from love. But as I drifted asleep later that night, piercing blue eyes haunted me once again.

I stared at the woman on stage as she completed an upbeat song, trying to figure out what was different about her. I had noticed that her bloody wanker of a boyfriend wasn't anywhere to be seen, a novelty when it came to Buffy Summers. But then she began speaking, and it all became a bit clearer.

"Okay guys, I've got one more song to sing for you tonight. It's new, so I'd love your feedback. It's called 'You Can't Break A Broken Heart'." Buffy closed her eyes as the opening guitar chords echoed around the bar. Then she opened her eyes and started to sing.

Won't be so easy, this time to hurt me, you can try

And this time, oh baby, there are no tears left here to dry

If you think you can wound me like before, if you think you can do that anymore

Won't get to far, no, you can't break a broken heart

I was amazed. From the sound of it, the poof had left her. It would explain why he wasn't here tonight, not that I was complaining. I watched as she held on the microphone stand as the chorus kicked in.

So try your best now baby, try your best to break me,

You can't break a broken heart

No damage you can do now, I'm immune to you now

You can't break what broke apart

There's nothing you can do to me no more

You can't break a broken heart

Her passion escalated as she continued singing. I made the decision that tonight was the night I was finally going to speak to her. Her emotion reached fever pitch during the middle 8, and she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

So don't waste your time

Your time has come and gone

What are you here for?

You can't hurt me anymore

I resisted the urge to jump up on stage and comfort her. Her voice had been reduced to almost a whisper, but lost none of its intention as she repeated the chorus, until anger shined through and her voice became strong once again by the end, even though she looked emotionally exhausted.

Break a broken heart

Her voice echoed on the final line, as a raucous applause broke out through the Bronze. As she acknowledged the applause, her eyes scanned across the audience. I stepped out of my shadowed corner, trying to work out what she was looking for. Suddenly, I looked up to see those emerald orbs locked directly onto mine.

This was my chance, I hoped I didn't blow it. I navigated through the throngs of people, never losing eye contact, until I reached the stage steps. As I did, Buffy said a final thank you to the audience, then headed across the stage to the top of the stairs. I held out my hand to assist her down the short flight, before gently turning her towards me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Buffy beat me to it. "Who are you?" she asked. I could have answered this two ways. I decided to go with the safest option.

"Name's Spike, luv," I responded, "I'm quite the fan of yours." She quirked her eyebrow.

"I know you're a fan, did you think you were being stealth by hiding in the shadows?" She smirked at me. "That hair of yours is so radioactive it could probably be seen from space!"

The chit had some fire, just like I knew she would. "Cheeky bint! Do you often go round insulting the hair of guys you've only just met?"

She flashed me another smile. "No, just ones with ridiculous names like 'Spike'!"

I decided to wind her up a bit more. "Whereas the name 'Buffy' is just classically elegant?" She tried to look shocked that I was teasing her, but just ended up laughing.

"Hey, what is it with people and making fun of my name!?"

I grinned. "Easy target, luv."

The laughter died out, and we stopped verbal sparring for a second, and just looked at one another. This time, I broke the silence. "Would you like to dance?" I inquired, offering a slightly shaking hand. She stared at me, as if she didn't quite understand what I was asking. I decided to break it down for her. "You, me, dance floor?" I gestured to the other couples already dancing.

When I still got no response, I admitted defeat. I shrugged, and mumbled "It was just an idea…I'll be going now." I turned and made to take a step towards the exit. A hand clasping my arm stopped me in my tracks. I spun back round to see Buffy with a huge grin on her face.

"Sorry about that, I kinda zoned out for a second. I'd love to dance," she babbled. I internally cheered, and led her through the crowds to an empty space on the dance floor.

After some initially awkward bopping, we soon found a rhythm, and soon it felt like I'd been dancing with Buffy for years. It was like she knew what I was going to do before I did it, even when I threw a few spins in. We danced to a couple of fast songs, and then came a slower number. I waited to take my cue from Buffy whether to leave the dance floor or not. When her arms linked around my neck, I relaxed, and just let myself bask in the music, and the beautiful girl swaying with me.

My arms linked around her waist, and I told myself that's where they were going to stay, I didn't want any shenanigans happening tonight. I then metaphorically slapped myself for thinking the word 'shenanigans' in relation to Buffy. All too soon, the song ended, and I was brought to my senses by Buffy taking my hand and dragging me over to a table.

We sat down, and Buffy began questioning me on my accent and reasons for moving to the US. I in turn questioned her about her home life and relationship with the poof. She told me she had left him because he had cheated on her. I felt angry for someone hurting her in that way, but couldn't help but be happy she was single.

Several hours passed, and soon the bar was closing for the night. My chivalrous side offered to walk her home, and to my delight she accepted. We spent the walk back to hers in the companionable conversation that had flowed between us all evening, talking about anything and everything. It wasn't until we reached her home that it became tense.

She looked up at me, gestured towards her door and said "Well, this is me." I nodded.

"I'll be going then. Night, luv." I turned to head home.

"Spike," she called. I looked back over my shoulder. She gave me a dazzling smile as she continued. "I had a really great time tonight".

I chuckled and smiled back. "So did I, pet. I'll see you around". Then, with the last bit of restraint I could muster, I walked away into the darkness, still not quite believing the whole night hadn't been a dream.

I awoke from a deep sleep to my alarm screeching at me to get up for work. Pleasantly surprised at my lack of insomnia the night before, I opened my eyes and sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes as my room slowly came into focus. As I turned off my alarm, the previous night's events came back to me, from the talking and dancing with Buffy to walking her home, and couldn't help grinning.

Invigorated by my good mood, I immediately stripped out of the black jeans and t shirt I had collapsed in last night, and sauntered to the bathroom. I braced myself against the sink, and looked into the mirror, barely recognising the healthy looking guy staring back at me.

I turned and got into the shower, switching it on and relishing the feel of the hot water running over me. When the hot water ran cold, I got out and wrapped myself in a towel, taking another to dry my soaking hair. I shuffled to my wardrobe, which was separated into two sections, one containing clothes from after the makeover, the other for the clothes I'd worn before it that I needed for work.

I perused the second section, eventually pulling out a charcoal suit and royal blue shirt. I located a black tie, socks and my shoes, and pulled the outfit on, transforming myself back into William, well, as close as I could get with my bleach blonde hair, which I gave a quick comb. I glanced in the mirror on my bedroom wall to check I was presentable, then picked up my work bag, and headed out of the door into the bright morning.

As I locked it behind me, I took a deep breath of street air into my lungs, and exhaled slowly, the smell of car fumes removing the remaining sleep from my system. For once, I had extra time before I had to open up the shop, so I decided to treat myself to a cup of tea.

I briskly walked to Starbucks and joined the seemingly never ending queue to the counter. As I waited, my mind drifted to Buffy and her reaction to meeting me the night before. She had been more observant than I gave her credit for, I was so sure she hadn't noticed me in the audience.

My mind replayed the conversations we had ended up having , like the one sparked by our mutual love of asparagus, and smirked as the memories washed over me.

The Night Before

Buffy took a sip of her drink. "I really like my asparagus grilled, I find it keeps all of the flavour in it"

I chuckled. "You know, in certain literature, asparagus is described as being an aphrodisiac"

She looked at me with a coy smile. "Well, I think I'd like to test that theory," Buffy giggled "What have you been reading to discover that?"

I smiled. "Why, do you not believe me?"

She shook her head. "I'm still struggling to work you out. You have the bad boy look going on, but then you reference books. You're like a paradox"

"Well, you're one to talk, kitten. You look all sweet and innocent," I gestured to her peasant blouse and jeans, "But when you sing and argue, you have an incredible fire and passion. You're quite the little hellcat."

She shook her head. "More of a heffalump according to Angel!" Her demeanour changed instantly, as she looked down at her fidgeting hands.

I sighed. "Angel's a bloody idiot, nothing that wanker said is of any importance".

She looked back up at me "To you, maybe….

The Morning After - Starbucks

The barista in front of me clicked her fingers in front of my face in an attempt to get my attention. I had gotten so engrossed thinking about the previous night's events, I hadn't realised I'd reached the counter. I hastily ordered an Earl Grey, and fidgeted while I waited for it to arrive.

After receiving it, I rapidly exited out on to the busy street and headed towards the bookstore where I worked. As I turned the next street corner, I collided with what first appeared to be a mass of blowing blonde hair on a female torso, spilling my tea all down her vest top.

"Holy frick!" my unintentional victim screamed, desperately trying to pull the scalding top away from her skin. I immediately recognised her voice. Out of all the people in the city, and I accidentally pour tea down her.

"Buffy?" I asked. She ceased fiddling with her top to clear her hair out of her face, eventually focusing on me and my attire.

"Spike?" She looked confused. "You're wearing a suit?"

I gave her my patented smirk. "Just my work clothes, luv. Anyway, shouldn't you be more worried about the fact I just showered you in scalding liquid?"

She just stared at me for a second, before she came to her senses. "What? Oh, right, yeah, really kinda burns."

I thought about it for a second, and came to a solution. I shrugged. "My place is closer than yours, you can clean up there if you like?"

I expected her to refuse my offer, and just head home. However, she surprised me. "Sounds like a good idea." she blushed.

I smiled. "Okay, well I've just got to make a quick phone call on the way, but it's this way." I pointed in the direction she had been walking in.

As I began navigating through the familiar streets with Buffy in tow, I pulled my mobile out of my suit jacket, hit speed dial 3 and raised the phone to my ear. After a couple of rings, it was picked up. "Will?" a sleepy female voice asked, "What's going on?"

"Hi Anya, sorry to call like this, but I really need you to open up the shop for me. Something's come up, and I'll be in a little late."

I heard her sigh. "Fine," she said grumpily, "But there better be a good reason for this, and you owe me one for taking me away from Xander so early."

I rolled my eyes. "There is a good reason, and I know. Anyway, I gotta go. See you soon." I hung up and returned the phone to my jacket.

Buffy looked up at me questioningly. "Who's Anya?" she inquired. I took her hand and continued to direct us towards my apartment.

"She co-owns my bookshop with me. She's got a better business brain, and I've got the passion for books, so it works out quite nicely."

Buffy couldn't contain her giggling. After forcing herself to take a few deep breaths, she responded. "You, Spike, supposed bad boy, own a book shop!" She appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Some of the stuff you said last night makes so much more sense now."

"In my defence, I did tell you what I was like before Dru met me...I just never said I was still that guy during daylight.". Her eyes lit up as she continued smiling at me.

"So, seeing as you've ruined one of my favourite tops, can I get a guided tour of your bookshop?"

"If you haven't got other plans, I'll take you round after we get you cleaned up." We arrived at my door. "Well, this is home." I unlocked the door and ushered Buffy inside.

I was glad that I'd had the extra time to keep everything fairly neat as Buffy wandered through the door. Her eyes immediately surveyed the room. "Wow, you have a really nice apartment" she said, sounding surprised.

"It's not much, but its home" I shut the front door and stood next to her. "I've got a bedroom come living room, a small kitchen through the door on the right," I gestured to the door in question, "And this way," I walked to the bathroom door and pushed it open, "Is the bathroom. There should be everything you'd need to clean up."

Buffy began to walk towards the bathroom door, before she turned and gave me a half smile. "What about my shirt? I can't exactly put it back on!" I cursed my own stupidity, before having a sudden brainwave.

I opened my chest of drawers and pulled out a yellow and blue short sleeved checked shirt that had been given to me as a present, but had never been worn, partly because it was a bit small, but mostly because I didn't want to wear checks.

I held it up. "Will this do?" Her half smile became a full grin, and her eyes sparkled.

"That'll do nicely." She practically skipped towards me, plucked the shirt from my grasp and disappeared in a whirlwind through the bathroom door.

As I sat on my bed and waited for Buffy's return, my eyes fell upon my childhood cuddly toy, a pig called Fred, resting on my chest of drawers. She had been a present from my parents, and was one of the few non-clothes items that had made the transition from England to America with me.

Buffy cleared her throat. I looked up to see her posed against the doorway, wearing my checked shirt with the ends tied around her waist to form a crop top. She quirked her eyebrow at me. "Nice to know where I stand in terms of your interest, you were staring at that pig for aggggges!" she said , teasingly.

She sat down on the bed next to me. "What's the story behind it anyway?" I smiled as I let myself remember the day in more detail.

"It was the day my sister Dawn was born. My mum was recovering from giving birth, while I waited with my dad. We had a wander around the hospital, and were discussing baby names, now that we knew it was a girl. I was maybe five or six at the time, and became convinced we should call the baby Winifred." Buffy laughed, quickly recovering and encouraging me to continue.

"My father objected to having a girl who could be nicknamed Fred, but I wouldn't let it go. Eventually we ended up at the hospital shop, and he bought me Fred, on the condition that I would let the baby name go. "

I turned and looked straight into Buffy's green pools. "And that's the story behind the pig. Anyway, we better get going, Anya will not be happy if I'm too late." Buffy hopped off the bed.

"Okay, but have you got maybe a carrier bag or something for the soaked shirt?" she asked. I quickly found one, and soon we were heading back out the door and into the street.

The walk to the shop was enjoyable, with Buffy laughing and smiling all the way at the bits of conversation we were having. She laughed until she was coughing when I told her about Anya's rabbit phobia, and again when I finally admitted my birth name was William John Hart. I responded by pointing out that my name wasn't nearly as bad as being called Angel.

This led to a debate over names, and I found out her birth name was Elizabeth Anne Summers, and that she also had a sister ,called Faith who worked as a stunt double in LA.

We arrived at my bookstore and I introduced her to Anya and Xander Jenkins-Harris, some of the first friends I made after moving to Sunnydale. Xander's first comment of "You look way more normal than Dru." broke the ice, and while he kept Buffy amused, I pulled Anya aside to talk about shop matters, and the possibility of hiring Buffy on a part time contract.

By the time I caught up with Buffy and Xander, they were sat in beanbags chatting in the 'reading area' I had set up at the back of the store. A small surge of jealousy erupted, even though I knew it was unnecessary when it came to Xander. He and Anya were inseparable except when it came to their jobs, and even then, he would usually drop in on his breaks from the construction site he was working on.

Eventually, Xander went to work, and I introduced Buffy to the other workers in the store. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was a Brit like me, and had originally come to LA with dreams of becoming an actor. When that idea failed, he moved down to Sunnydale. His love of literature had brought him to my bookstore when Anya and I were the only ones running it, and I had hired him on the spot when he asked if there were any job openings.

Tara Maclay had been a barmaid one of the nights I decided to get drunk over Dru. I had immediately liked her when she put me in my place for flirting with her. She wasted no time informing me she was lesbian, and had no time for players like me.

Nevertheless, she was the one who saw me home that night, as I was barely able to stand up. I returned to the bar the next night with some flowers and apologised for my actions. We had been friends ever since, and once the store was up and running, I offered her a job so she was no longer dealing with drunks like me, which she had accepted on the condition that I never hit on her again.

And that left the last member of my small group of employees, the pain of my otherwise heavenly job, Andrew Wells. I hired him as a favour to Xander, who was the geek's cousin, and while he annoyed the hell out of me, he was a good worker, so I had no reason to fire him.

Buffy shook hands with each of them in turn, asking how much of a tyrant I was to work for. They all laughed, and said a brief goodbye before getting back to work. Buffy continued to follow me around the store, occasionally making comments on the books we passed.

She especially perked up as we came to the poetry section, and she rambled on about her favourite poets and poems, which I couldn't help but find adorable. I responded by pointing out some of my own favourites, from the classics such as Wordsworth, to the more contemporary.

After a particularly heated debate over Emily Dickinson vs John Keats, we went for an enjoyable lunch at a small Italian near the store. She continued to fascinate me with her life, and I continued to reveal facts about myself that under usual circumstances I would never tell, such as the fact I wrote poetry.

The afternoon passed far more quickly than I would have liked, but by the time I closed the doors, it felt like I had known Buffy forever. Just as we were about to part ways, I plucked up the courage to ask what I had been planning all day.

"Would you like a part time job here?" I tentatively asked. Buffy looked stunned.

"You do remember I was kicked out of my family home because I gave up my job to focus on singing?" she questioned.

"I remember, but it wouldn't be the hours you used to work at that greasy hell-hole. Just a secure part time job to back up your earnings from performing," I gave her a grin. "If it makes you feel any better, I've thinking about hiring another worker for a while." This was true. With six people on the team, it would be a lot easier to spread hours, and Anya had agreed it would be economically worthwhile.

Buffy appeared to relax. "Do you mind if I think about it?"

I shook my head. "Not at all. When you decide, just give me a call, here's my number," I passed her a business card, "Or you could come in and see me, or just have a chat with me after you perform next."

She smiled. "Okay, I'll let you know."

After I apologised for ruining her shirt once again, and telling her to keep the replacement, we said our goodbyes and each headed our separate ways. I couldn't wait to see that girl again.

Life was good since I had left Angel, Willow and I were now firm friends, and I had convinced her to come to the Bronze and watch me perform the new stuff that she helped me write.

Then there was Spike. Ever since he collided into my life, I had turned into a giggling gibbering wreck. I thought it had been bad enough when he was just a fantasy, but the reality was so much better than I ever could have imagined.

I was fascinated by this paradox of a man, the sweet, suit wearing bookshop owner, who was also a sexy leather wearing badass. That day in his shop had been a real eye opener, and him rather kindly offering me a job, was just…

My train of thought was interrupted by my name being called as the next singer. I collected myself quickly and headed to the mic.

The intro began. Out of habit, I quickly surveyed the room, took a deep breath, and began to sing.

This road is anything but simple

Twisted like a riddle

I've seen high, and I've seen low

So loud, the voices of all my doubts

Telling me to give up

To pack up, and leave town

I looked over to where I knew Willow was in the crowd, a foot or so in front of Spike's old hiding spot. Willow gave me an encouraging smile and thumbs up, urging me to continue. Next to her was the one person I had just been thinking so much about. He gave me one of his patented sexy smirks, and his eyes twinkled. I felt myself go red, and almost missed my cue for the next line.

But even so I had to believe

Impossible means nothing to me

I avoided looking back towards Spike, I had a feeling it would be far too distracting. Instead I closed my eyes and let muscle memory take over as the chorus began.

So can you lift me up, and turn the ashes into flames

'Cause I have overcome, more than words will ever say

And I've been given hope, that there's a light on up the hall

And that a day will come when the fight is won

And I think that day had just begun

I opened my eyes, and moved towards the front of the stage. I sat on the edge as I sang the second verse to Willow. She knew that, as well as being about Spike, the song was a tribute to her, and how she had helped me. Without her, I would have still had nothing.

Oh lift me up, oh lift me up, oh lift me up

Lift me up, lift me up, oh lift me up

Willow was still standing there smiling. After a couple of moments she gave me a knowing look, which I easily interpreted as 'I know you're purposely avoiding looking at him again, but you're gonna do it eventually'. She was right, of course. As I re-entered the chorus, there was strong pull to look back at Spike, but I resisted. Finally, I reached the middle eight.

Down and out is overrated

And I need to be elevated

Looking up is not enough, no

I would rather rise above

There was a short instrumental, which I used to ready myself for the final chorus. After all the times Spike had come to hear me sing, now I knew him, it had really made me nervous.

So can you lift me up, and turn the ashes into flames

'Cause I have overcome, more than words will ever say

And I've been given hope, that there's a light on up the hall

And that a day will come when the fight is won

And I think that day had just begun

I finally allowed myself to look back at Spike while I did all of the riffing over the outro. He had his eyes closed and almost looked serene. I sung the final line straight to him.

Lift me up

The music faded. Spike opened his eyes as the applause broke out. After I acknowledged my audience with a bow, some smiles and a 'Thank you!' I practically skipped off the stage into the waiting arms of Willow, who congratulated and hugged me. That was when Spike decided to speak.

"Hey, if there's going to be girl on girl action, I want in!" We turned to look at him with the 'death glare'.

Willow counted softly "One…two….three!" Without breaking the hug completely, we simultaneously hit him round the back of the head, NCIS style.

There was a loud "Ow!", and Willow and I burst out laughing. Spike stood there, rubbing the back of his head, and pouted. "I was just about to congratulate you on a great performance, but I won't bother now." He sulked and turned away. I let go of Willow and wrapped my arms around him from behind.

"Spike, you do realise you brought that one on yourself?" I teased. He turned so he was facing me, still trying to seem upset. "Aww, come on you grumpy giraffe." I sang. His mouth twitched. I executed my fool proof technique, bit my lip and gave him my innocent wide eyed look. He couldn't hold it in any longer, and laughed.

Once he got his breath back, he pointed his finger at me, and said "Luv, if you're trying to convince me you're innocent, it's bloody well not working, 'cause you're about as subtle as a diplodocus about it!"

Willow scrunched her nose and looked confused "You guys are crazy, what's with the weird pet names?"

Spike and I looked at her and shrugged. Willow rolled her eyes. Suddenly, I realised I had some news. I bounced on my toes in excitement and turned back to Spike. "I suppose I should start being nice to you," I giggled. Spike looked at me suspiciously.

"Why's that then?" he queried.

I took his arms and started to swing them back and forth. "Cause you're going to be my boss, if the offer's still open!" I smiled hopefully.

He made a big show of thinking it over before grinning and asking when I wanted to start. We had just decided to leave all other details until the morning, and were headed for the dance floor when we realised Willow had gotten ready to go. "I'd like to stay a bit longer, but I need to go sleep, I've got an early morning tomorrow," she explained.

I hugged her goodbye, and told her to call me when she got in, so I knew she was okay. We said our goodbyes, and then Spike dragged me to dance. We danced for an hour or so, stopping only when Willow called and to get more drinks. All too soon, it was time for bed.

Spike, being a perfect gentleman, leant me his duster so I wasn't cold while he walked me home. We chatted happily about the night we had just spent, and of things to come, such as my new job. We reached my front door, and as I turned to give him his coat back, he pulled me into his arms. Expecting him to try and kiss my lips, I was surprised when instead he placed a small peck upon my cheek, then removed the coat from my arms.

"Goodnight kitten," he murmured. I pulled back, unlocked and opened the front door

. I twisted to face him, and quietly whispered "Goodnight Spike." After he nodded in acknowledgement, I entered and shut the door behind me.

Chapter Eight: This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race

I paced around the apartment, full of excess energy. The night before had been such a great success, with Buffy agreeing to join my workforce and her acceptance of my kiss, even if it was only on the cheek. Now, in the warm sunshine streaming though my bedroom window, I was beginning to freak out. And I had no idea why.

Eventually, I sat down on my bed and pulled out my 'Compendium of Poetry' I had been working on since I was just a kid. I flicked to the most recent pages of writing, scanning over the words as if they held the meaning to this new trepidation.

It was then, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing that had ever fallen into my lap, as Buffy seemed to have, came without some kind of price.

I shook my head, as if to get rid of that train of thought, and dug my phone out of my jeans. There was only one thing I could think to do to ease the stress a little, and that was to call her. I searched through my contacts, finding her name easily, and pressed the button.

I held it up to my ear while it rang for what seemed like forever. Eventually, her voice appeared on the other end. Unfortunately, it was only her voicemail message informing me to leave a message and she'd reply as soon as she could. Sparing myself the embarrassment of leaving a message, I hung up and threw my phone onto the bed next to me. Within seconds, the opening of 'I Wanna Be Sedated' was blaring out from next to me.

I quickly picked it up and answered. "Buffy?"

I heard a laugh then "Yes, it's me. Sorry I missed your call, what's up?"

I pondered the best thing to say that didn't sound like I was a complete ponce. "I was just wondering when you wanted to start work. We did say we'd sort out all the details today, unless another time is more convenient?"

Buffy giggled. "No, now's fine, when did you have in mind?" After a couple of second's contemplation, I came up with an offer. "Monday, 'round 9 o'clock good for you?"

"Yes, that's perfect," she replied. We said our goodbyes, and I put the phone down feeling much calmer from just having a conversation with her. I turned once again to my poetry, inspired to write while I was on an emotional high. I wrote until I fell asleep on the pages, waking up the next morning with them stuck to my face, and ink stains everywhere.

Monday morning seemed to drag in arriving, but at last came. I got to the shop at 7 to make sure everything was ready for Buffy's first day, all of the paperwork I could do was done and the shop was generally in ship shape. At 8, Tara arrived, unsurprised I had obviously been there longer than usual. Wesley and Andrew arrived together a little later. By the time Buffy appeared at the door at 8:55, there was nothing more to be done than physically train her, and all of the daily shop business.

I started by getting her reacquainted with the layout of the shop, both of us smiling when we passed the poetry section. I assisted her in dealing with the queries of her first few customers, then sent her to be till trained by Anya when she arrived just after half 9. Being till trained took Buffy most of the morning, so the next chance I got to speak to her was when she took her lunch. I checked she was getting on okay, and she replied with the most dazzling smile and said "Everything is perfect".

Soon, her lunch break was over, and I sent her off to be buddied by Tara in the afternoon. While I would have loved to do it myself, I understood that a) I was the boss, and would probably make Buffy feel more nervous about doing something wrong, and b) she needed to interact with more people. Tara was a great place to start, especially with how similar she and Buffy were with their unexpected fire. It provided a killer combination with customers of all ages and backgrounds. Most of the customers they served left with the book they had come in for, plus something extra recommended by what I was quickly nicknaming my own 'Dynamic Duo'.

At long last, it was getting to the end of the day. Tara had already gone home earlier, as had Andrew and Wesley, leaving Anya, Buffy and myself to do the preparation for closing. I was just going through the list of books customers wanted ordered in, when the bell on the door rang. I looked up to see Xander wandering in, and beginning to start up a conversation with Buffy, who was sorting out the book displays. After a quick check of my watch, I walked over and locked the door, smiling and giving a greeting to him.

Xander replied in his usual cheerful manner "Hey Bleach Boy, where's that lovely wife of mine?"

I smiled at the good natured insult. "She's out the back cashing up, you know what she gets like around money!"

Xander nodded in recognition. "Yup, dances and sings about it!"

Buffy looked between the two of us in disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

Xander simply smiled and said "Spike, why don't you show Buffy what we mean?" I winked at Buffy, and gestured to her to follow me. When we got near the back rooms, I placed my finger over my lips to show Buffy to be quiet.

Sure enough, the distinct sound of Anya singing "I love the money, and the money loves me!" was echoing from the cashing up desk. Buffy and I poked our heads round to see the source on the noise, and there she was, dancing around like a madwoman. Buffy looked at me, and struggled to not laugh. I smirked at her and led her back out onto the shop floor, where she immediately doubled over guffawing.

Anya chose that moment to come out onto the shop floor. "What's wrong with Buffy?" she inquired. Xander and I glanced to each other, then to Anya, and gave our most innocent looks.

"Nothing!" we chorused.

Anya looked at us suspiciously. "You told her about the cashing up song and dance, didn't you?" Buffy laughed even harder, tears coming out of her eyes. I looked to Xander, who shrugged. "Yes," I admitted sheepishly, "And then I took her into the back to spy on you while you were doing it."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Honestly, when will you two ever get over the money song and dance?"

Xander immediately responded "When it stops being funny!" which set us all off in new waves of laughter, including Anya. Soon after, we all walked out the door, and I locked it behind me. I walked Buffy home, asking her about her first day as we went, and figuring out what shifts to put her on for the week. She also invited me to her set on Friday, the first time I'd ever had an actual invite to one of her performances. I asked if I could bring Tara, as she had heard me talk about Buffy's singing, and wanted to hear it for herself. Buffy assured me she didn't mind. We reached her door, and she unlocked and opened it. I kissed her on the cheek and said goodnight. Instead of turning away from me, Buffy leaned in and gave me the slightest peck on the lips.

"Goodnight Spike" she whispered, and disappeared in a whirlwind through her front door, leaving me standing on the pavement in shock.

Chapter Nine: The Take Over, The Break's Over

My first day at Spike's bookshop was amazing. Everyone was so inviting and friendly, just as they were before, and Anya's money song/dance incident was hilarious. But even so, I can't to this day work out why I kissed Spike at the end of it, rather than at any other time I'd seen him. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Unfortunately, it also became the reason I panicked about seeing him again. What if he wanted me to explain why? What if he hadn't wanted me to kiss him? So, I just wrote and wrote, eventually filling up half a notebook with song lyrics and ideas.

The next time I saw him was at my performance. I had arrived with Willow, and saw Tara and Spike arrive just as I started up the stairs to the stage. Far quicker than I would have liked, my set was over and I was heading towards the small group. Willow and Tara were engaged in animated conversation, with Spike looking on, seemingly in bemusement. As the trio realised my presence, they all turned to hug me.

With Tara and Willow, this felt natural, but with Spike it felt much more awkward than he had ever made me feel before. However, before we could even discuss my actions the last time he had seen me, a blonde bimbo barrelled into him. She looked like she was dressed to enter a 'Slutty Barbie lookalike' competition with a tacky pink crop top and what I assume was a skirt, but looked more like a belt. To finish off the look…pink sparkly knee high boots.

"Oh Spike," she simpered, "I'm so happy to see you. I can't stop thinking about our night together!" Her outfit had been offensive enough, but hearing her voice, and what she said, I wanted to punch her in the jaw. I tore my eyes away from her to look at Spike, who was wearing the classic 'deer in the headlights' expression.

"Come dance with me Spikey!" Barbie continued, and went to lead him onto the dance floor. Spike came to his senses and tried to pull away, explaining to 'Harmony' that the night she referred to had been a mistake. This made her think he was playing hard to get, and eventually, I lost my patience and stepped in.

"Listen, I don't care if Spike slept with you once, but he obviously doesn't want your company tonight so please, just leave us alone."

Being a dumb blonde cliché, she still didn't get the message, believing me to be a substitute for her. Spike responded by pulling me into his arms, and slowly edging his lips down to mine , both of us visibly relaxing when they at last met. This surprise reaction shut Harmony up immediately…not that Spike or I really noticed, as what started as a peck on the lips turned into a full on incredible make out session. Eventually, Spike pulled away, leaving us staring at each other, grinning.

It wasn't until Tara and Willow tried to inform us that Harmony had been gone for some time we realised we should probably talk about what had just happened. He escorted me to a table and we talked through this recent development in our friendship. We came to the conclusion that while neither of us was truly ready for a real relationship, the intimacy was nice, so it would become more of a 'friends with benefits' arrangement, but Spike insisted we wouldn't go any further than making out, and that the arrangement was exclusive. If one of us wanted to date someone else, the arrangement would stop. This only made me swoon for him more, damn his perfect English gentleman ways.

Talking of which, after the serious conversation was over, he again asked me to dance. We were two dances in and really enjoying ourselves when a blast from my past suddenly cut in. And that's when everything got boring.

Riley Finn. The last time I had seen him was at our high school graduation, and he apparently wanted to do the whole "It's been a while, why don't we catch up?" malarkey. Spike just stood there, looking annoyed our dance had been interrupted. I couldn't blame him, but Riley was a nice guy, even if he was like watching paint dry. So, the three of us got a table. Riley and I caught up. Well, he caught up, I tried not to fall asleep, or laugh at the faces Spike was making behind Riley's back while I explained what I had been doing since high school.

After an hour or so, Riley finally left, leaving Spike and I in peace. As soon as he was out of hearing range, Spike turned to me and asked "Why didn't you just tell the git to bugger off?"

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. "Because he defended me in high school when I was picked on for being a geek, anyway, you could've told him to go away yourself."

Spike went quiet for a second, bowed his head and mumbled "Didn't want to get on your bad side for a second time tonight."

I was suddenly reminded of the Harmony incident earlier on in the evening. After all the things I had worried about going wrong tonight, I had not expected a girl with the IQ of a jelly doughnut and Riley to be two of them.

I lifted Spike's chin with two fingers, and stared deep into his eyes. "You weren't on my bad side," I chastised, "But if I have to deal with Harmony again, she can 'say hello to my little friend!'" Spike laughed at my rubbish impression, and immediately responded "Well, nobody puts baby in a corner!" From behind me, I heard Willow's voice retaliate "I feel the need…" Tara chimed in "The need for speed!"

This spontaneous movie quote marathon continued while Spike and Tara walked Willow and I home. As Spike and I shared a small kiss goodnight, I noticed Willow and Tara blushing furiously, and acting more like was the end of a date than two friends saying goodbye. Spike caught me watching and smirked. Willow and I said our final goodbyes and went through the door. As it closed behind us, we let out girlish squeals, grabbed one another and bounced up and down.

Chapter Ten: Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet

Once we had calmed down, out came the pillows from the bedroom onto the living room floor, the ice cream and the stash of chocolate we had hidden away 'for emergencies'. We tossed a coin on which movie we watched, and Willow won with Cruel Intentions. Not that I minded, but the lead girl resembled me so closely it was scary. However, the film was only used as background anyway.

Willow gushed over Tara, and I couldn't help but giggle at the obvious attraction between the two of them. It was obvious they would end up as a couple, whether it happened sooner or later. So I did my best encouraging, without coming out and saying 'I think you're bi…or maybe a lesbian'. In response, I also gushed about Spike, and even though Willow had heard most of it all before, she still acted like she hung onto every word.

We each admonished the other, due to our pact of swearing off love…but just ended up in fits of laughter, which ended up turning into a fairly aggressive pillow fight. Eventually, it was time to sleep, Willow wanted to do some early morning shopping, and I wanted to do a full day of song writing.

It all went to plan, we both got up around seven o'clock the next morning. After breakfast, washing and dressing, I pulled out my battered notebook, and began brainstorming lyrics. I barely noticed when Willow left a couple of hours later. This new 'thing' with Spike had brought some of my old Angel issues to the forefront of my mind, and so getting them down on paper in the form of what was turning out to be another angry song about him, was very therapeutic.

I stopped when Willow returned at half twelve, and we enjoyed lunch in companionable silence. My thoughts drifted to Spike, what he was up to. It was more than likely he was at the shop, and I debated leaving the apartment to say hi. I ended up deciding against it, after all, it wasn't like we were dating, just 'friends with benefits'. Or, that's what I had to keep telling myself. I still had Angel issues to work through before I could jump into anything too serious, and it wouldn't be fair on either myself or Spike if I tried to.

I looked at the basic song structure I had been working on all morning, and decided to stick to my original plan and finish it off during the afternoon…it would keep my mind off Spike if nothing else. So, back into Angry-Buffy mode I went, finishing it before getting an early night.

SPOV

I usually enjoyed talking to my parents on Skype. Not today. Mum was being far too perceptive about my unusually good mood, and guessed that a girl was responsible for it. Unfortunately for me, she didn't let it drop, so I ended up telling my parents the whole Buffy story, and how we weren't calling ourselves a 'couple', just friends who kiss.

My dad, Rupert, made a face at that, being the tweedy Englishman he was these days. You would've never guessed just by looking that he was once a lead singer and guitarist of a rock band back in the 70's. That was before mum had met him.

Anyway, surprisingly, mum understood, and told me to wait it out. She explained Buffy was probably still adjusting from coming out of a controlling relationship, so things weren't likely to develop for a little while, but to hang in there for the meantime.

It seemed simple, but my mind had been all over the place when it came to Buffy. After a little more chat with my parents, we said goodbye and I was left to think in my apartment.

Eventually, thinking gave way to writing, as I dragged my mind away from Buffy and wrote a simple plot to a story idea that randomly popped into my head. Although I worked with books most days, and wrote poetry, it had been a while since I had attempted to write a novel. So the rest of my evening was spent poring over my screen, developing characters and dialogue based around the idea of one girl against evil. I debated calling my lead girl Buffy, but decided against it in case the real Buffy ever found out. Instead, she became Anna: The Vampire Slayer.