A/N: Here it is, my ficathon challenge finally completed. This was written for denny_dc, she wanted poetry, mistaken identity, and something NC-17. I kind of messed with the whole mistaken identity thing, but I hope she’ll forgive me, this idea came out of nowhere and wouldn’t let go. I was thinking that maybe this deserved a sequel, but I guess that’s up to the readers. Tell me what you want, and I’m yours. Hope you enjoy this.. and reviews are always appreciated.

Most of the time
My head is on straight,
Most of the time
I'm strong enough not to hate.
I don't build up illusion 'till it makes me sick,
I ain't afraid of confusion no matter how thick
I can smile in the face of mankind.
Don't even remember what her lips felt like on mine
Most of the time.

Most of the time
She ain't even in my mind,
I wouldn't know her if I saw her
She's that far behind.
Most of the time
I can't even be sure
If she was ever with me
Or if I was with her.

Most of the time
I'm halfway content,
Most of the time
I know exactly where I went,
I don't cheat on myself, I don't run and hide,
Hide from the feelings, that are buried inside,
I don't compromise and I don't pretend,
I don't even care if I ever see her again
Most of the time.
-Bob Dylan, “Most of the Time”

***

"Buffy, now that we could die here... There's something I should show you."

Willow produced a worn letter from her pocket and handed it to her friend.

The Slayer's eyes narrowed as she turned the envelope in her hand and saw the painfully familiar script on the front of it.

"Where did you get this?"

Willow swallowed hard and looked up into Buffy's eyes. "Just read it. And before you do, just remember, we've got three fronts in this war. L.A, London and Tokyo are all engulfed in war. If you rush off to overcompensate in L.A., we'll win that battle, but we'll lose this war. Think of Dawn, Buffy, think of Giles and me and Xander. We all need you here. And when this is all done... Everyone will be safe, and you'll have time then."

"Willow, what are you-"

The witch just held up and hand and pointed to the letter before walking out and closing the door behind her. Buffy stared after her for a moment, terrified of what could be in the envelope. She hadn't heard from Angel in almost a year, and with him, it was never good news.

She opened the letter and found another surprise inside. This time the handwriting on the front had her staggering into a chair and taking deep breaths before she could read.

***

Two weeks of fighting.

Spike should have been elated. It was nothing but fists and fangs for fourteen literally bloody days.

But it was hell. They had lost Wesley. Even if the poor guy had made it past his assignment to take out his part of the Black Thorn, Spike knew he wouldn't have wanted it enough to stay alive much longer. It still hurt. Angel's family had become part of his own in the past year, and he didn't like to see any of them gone.

Illyria was fine, and she held her own for all of it, she saved his own undead ass enough times. Angel made it through as well, though Spike was worried when Gunn fell. Luckily Charlie managed to crawl under some debris and waited it out. The new watcher's council got their asses in gear and sent some witches. They healed him in the nick of time, but Spike figured he was done fighting.

Having one arm made it kind of hard for humans.

Now it was over and Spike didn't know what to do. He'd never been in a war before. He'd seen enough of them, alright, but he and Dru had always hightailed it out of town before things got heavy. Feeding off dying soldiers was just too smelly for them.

Things just seemed to stop. He heard a few cries in the distance, but soon they were silent too. He looked over to Angel and saw the relief flood his features. Somehow they made it to each other and he allowed his grandsire to hold him.

Spike was exhausted and starving. He could smell the power of Angel's blood and he was tempted to take a sip, but the elder vampire sensed his hunger and pulled back.

"Sun's coming up."

Spike swallowed and stepped back, embarrassed. "Yeah, where to, Peaches?"

Angel looked over to Illyria, who was walking slowly toward them, seemingly in awe of all the gore surrounding them.

"We'll go to the hotel. You take Gunn and Illyria, I'll pick up some blood and food. Do you know where it is?"

Spike nodded and grabbed Illyria by the arm, walking toward where Gunn was holed up. "Let's go kiddies, shows over."

***

The pain began as Spike began the walk to the hotel. It was getting stronger and by the time they were a block from the hotel he collapsed. Illyria looked at him quizzically, one eyebrow arched, and Gunn was panicking slightly.

"Spike? Hey man, c'mon, we gotta get you inside."

Spike felt drunk, a really painful kind of drunk. All of his bruises and cuts were starting to throb. It felt like his insides were being pulled out slowly, ripped apart from the inside.

It was a bit of euphoria, the pain so intense it became almost numb and all he felt was a warmth spreading through his chest.

"You worry too-" Suddenly his muscles constricted painfully and he rolled onto his stomach, heaving violently. The meager contents of his stomach splashed onto the ground near his face and he didn’t have to energy to stop himself falling into it.

He had two thoughts before he blacked out: vampires don’t puke, and this is just like that first time with Dru in that London alley.

***

“Plane, Giles. Now!”

“I’ve already arranged it, Buffy, are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Listen, I’ve thought he was dead for how many months? Now, I find out he’s ok, and possibly alive if Willow’s right about two vampires suddenly making with the beating hearts and breathing thing. I’ve got to see him.”

“Well, you know I don’t like the idea of you searching around battlefield L.A. for them, but I can’t stop you.”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll call you when I find them.”

***

When Spike woke up, he knew something was definitely wrong. Something was terribly, horribly wrong. He was weak, he could barely lift his arms. He didn’t feel this bad after Glory beat the unliving shit out of him, or even after he fell off that bloody tower. He didn’t remember ever being in this much pain, even after the First had it’s wicked way with him.

He managed to run a slow hand over his body. Stitches, and bandages. Why the hell did he have stitches. There weren’t any wounds serious enough that vampire healing wouldn’t take care of them. His head hurt like a bitch, and he was thirsty, but not in a bloody way.

He was too warm, but he shouldn’t even feel the temperature. His blood felt like it was running in his veins, but it wasn’t supposed to do that. He opened his eyes and the room was blurry. It was like he needed glasses again, but vampires didn’t wear glasses. He rested a hand on his chest and started violently, sitting up fast and wishing he hadn’t.

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ...”

He was... alive? He was bloody fucking alive!

“Oh God, oh holy fuck!”

He shot out of bed, momentarily forgetting the formerly incapacitating pain of his wounds. There were so many things he had to do. First, rub it in Peaches' face, most definitely. Then he was walking out into that glorious sunlight, maybe he could do the first two at the same time.

And thirdly, though most importantly of all, he was getting his ass to London. His Slayer must have received his letter, he didn’t think Angel was enough of it a dickhead to not have sent it. He was going to her, because he knew he had a lot of explaining to do, but he figured, trying to become human before he could see her again was a good enough excuse.

He wasn’t about to screw up the greatest exit of his existence by showing up with nothing. A beating heart was more than enough.

Plus, he had to apologize for fucking up what could have been a great declaration of love.

Spike yanked his pants on, yelping when they caught on a particularly nasty cut, and proceeded to gather the rest of his clothes with more caution.

***

Angel definitely liked being alive. It felt nice this time.

Not that he didn’t absolutely love the last time he was human, but something about having no serious responsibilities to the world anymore made it that much easier. The powers decided, he’d done his part, and now he was ready to remain fighting on the side of good, but he’d do it as a human P.I. One that wasn’t restricted to skulking about at night, and one who could pick and choose his battles.

One that could maybe enjoy some nicely baked cookies.

He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed the ice cream first. He didn’t care that it was five in the morning. He didn’t care that maybe this wasn’t the healthiest choice. It tasted damn good, and after years of ashes, it was divinity.

Over the sound of his own eating, he was a bit loud, but he couldn’t help it, he was hungry, he heard her laughter.

“Buffy.”

Her smile turned serious, but the joy didn’t leave her eyes. “Angel.” She swallowed and walked toward him, allowing him to gather her in his arms.

“God, Angel, I missed you so much!”

***

Spike head the front door open, and he peaked out of his room. The flash of blonde hair woke the sudden flurry of butterflies in his stomach. Apparently, stage three had been bumped up. He took a deep breath and looked in the mirror.

God, he still couldn’t get over that. As handsome a bastard as he ever was. He grinned rakishly and took a deep breath, checking his hair once more before he opened the door and made his way downstairs.

He stood for a moment outside the kitchen, he knew she was in there, he could still smell a bit of her perfume. He wished he still had a bit of his vampire senses left to him, being unable to track her would be a pain, and make things not nearly as interesting. He’d deal.

Buffy being around made up for anything.

He tried to calm his breathing and clenched his shaking hands before he opened the door.

He should have known. His stomach clenched painfully and his heart seemed to stop beating in his chest.

Why didn’t he assume she’d come for him. Why didn’t he simply understand that he’d always been second best. The flush in Angel’s cheek was enough to confirm that he’d received a special gift as well from the powers.

He wanted his demon back for the first time, then. He wanted to rip her away from him. He wanted them to know that it should have been him.

All he did was turn around and run. He avoided the sun as he moved through the streets of L.A.

***

Spike didn’t get very far. He ducked into the first bar he found and ordered a bottle of whiskey. He only got in a few shots before he was drunk. Apparently his tolerance to alcohol was a purely vampire thing.

William had never really drank.

He holed up in a corner where no one would bother him. When he cried it hurt his chest and his eyes itched. He was so tired. So tired of everything.

Being second best.

Not fitting in no matter where he went.

“Just fo sucking tired.”

“Maybe I should cut you off.”

Spike let out a pitiful growl. He’d forgotten he couldn’t do that anymore.

“Leave me the bloody fuck alone,” he slurred.

“Spike, I think you should come back to the hotel.”

“Angel, I don’t give a flying fuck what you think. Go back to Buffy.”

“Spike, you don’t get-”

Spike reared back a fist and hit him square in the face. At least his aim hadn’t been affected by his humanity. Angel let out a yell and grabbed his arm. The bastard was still stronger than him.

Spike yanked his arm back and grabbed the bottle before standing and wrapping his duster around him.

“I’m leaving, and I don’t want you to bloody follow me. Both of you stay the hell away. If I see you again... I don’t care if I am human, I’ll kill you.”

Angel stood but Spike was already walking away.

“Just let me-”

Spike slammed the door and Angel sat down.

“Explain.”

***

Buffy and Willow parked their small rental car next to the cottage they were staying at. It had taken a full month for Willow to convince her friend to take some time off. Buffy had been working non-stop since her disastrous visit to L.A. two years before.

Everyone around her knew that something horrible had happened with Spike, but no one had to guts to ask. Only after too many drinks a year later did Buffy confide in Willow. Buffy blamed herself for all of it. And there were so many “what-ifs”. What if she had tried to find Spike first? What if she hadn’t let herself seek comfort in the exact wrong place? What if she had gone after Spike herself and not let Angel do it his way?

There was no end to it. Willow had tried to comfort her but Buffy just shut down when Spike was mentioned. She still spoke to Angel, but it was clear that things were strained.

Finally, in the past few months, she’d started dating again. She still wasn’t taking anything too seriously, but it was a step.

For months they’d tried locator spells on Spike, but there was nothing. Apparently he’d changed fundamentally when he’d become human, and without anything that belonged to him, it was nearly impossible to find him.

Finally they gave up, and though everyone noticed Buffy’s eyes scan every large crowd that gathered around her. They couldn't count the number of times she'd stopped a man with bleached hair, sometimes even some brunettes. After a while she began to resist the urge. No one mentioned him again.

Willow hoped that this vacation would help to jump-start Buffy’s new life. She seemed willing to move on for the first time, and no one was letting that chance escape them.

Willow had planned what she hoped would be a relaxing time away from slaying and the memory of certain vampires.

They’d only really had the money to travel to a small town in the South of England, but it was far enough from the council headquarters, and any big city that it felt like enough of a vacation.

The only problem was, Buffy had no clue what to do with her time. Willow had predictably found something witchy to look into, but there was no shopping or slaying for miles.

If the redhead could work, why couldn’t she?

Buffy moped around their room until finally deciding on braving the locals. The center of town was small but there were a few shops that interested her. Willow called and asked her to meet her at the pub near their cottage for lunch.

By lunch time Buffy had discovered a bit of the charm of life outside a big city. It was good to relax a bit, she didn’t have to be busy all the time. Just sitting outside a coffee shop and people-watching turned out to be a lot better than it initially sounded.

“So, did you have a decent time today without me?” Willow asked as they were seated.

Buffy let out a breath and smiled. “I guess you were right about relaxing. It is kinda nice.”

Willow smiled back at her friend and reached for her hand. “I told you so. But don’t worry, you won’t have to relax alone very much. I’ve taken care of all my major goals today. I’m all yours for the rest of the month.”

Buffy let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God, I didn’t think I could go a month like this.”

Willow grinned wryly. They ordered their food and were halfway through the meal before Willow suddenly began bouncing in her side of the booth. “Oh, oh!”

Buffy couldn’t help but laugh. It had been a while since she and Willow had been in a totally stress free situation, free to be their own goofy selves. It was nice.

“There’s a poetry reading tonight at the coffee shop down the street!”

“Oookay. I guess you want to go.”

“Don’t you?” Willow could barely contain her excitement, and Buffy finally started to get kind of pumped herself.

“Yeah, I guess. Something fun to do. I doubt there’s much of a nightlife here.”

“No, probably not, but this goes until something like two in the morning. It should be awesome. Some big names have read here before. I don’t think anyone famous is coming, but I’ve heard it’s a great time.”

“Well, it fits with our get away from bad memories goal.”

“That it does.”

***

William Bennet was an ordinary man. He moved to a small town not too terribly far from London two years before. Slowly he made his presence known, and the people of the town came to care for him. The proprietor of the local pub had taken an immediate shine to him and helped him to publish his first short book of poetry.

It wasn’t horribly successful commercially, but critically, he did fine. It made him enough money to keep going as he was, and that was just fine with William.

Even after two years he still kept mostly to himself. He resisted the advances of any of the women who took a fancy to him and never stayed for more than a drink or two. No one knew where he had come from, or why he was so intent on seclusion, but his kind, though shy, manner, kept people from prying.

He was considered a nice man.

Spike knew differently. He knew that William was who he hid behind.

A month after he left L.A., he ended up in London. He needed money, and much of what he’d saved as a vampire was in the motherland. Also, he knew some people that could get him the papers he needed.

Newly, or rather, once again, established as William Bennet, Spike decided to celebrate with a night on the town. After a good amount of alcohol he managed to piss off the wrong guy and without his vampire strength...

William shook his head as he thought about it. He’d been foolish and depressed. And after he was beaten to a bloody pulp and left to die, he realized that things had to change. He wasn’t Spike anymore. He didn’t have as sharp a tongue, as quick a fist, and his teeth weren’t nearly so sharp.

It was back to his old life. The one he’d lived before Dru and Angel and Buffy. The one, it seemed, he was destined to die from.

He’d been afraid of humans for only a brief period of time after Dru. The chip was the only time he’d ever been weak, but he could still fight with demons.

Now he was afraid again, actually he was truly terrified. He was too small and lean to have much in a fight. He could get in a few good punches, but then he was a goner.

He finally had to face the reality of his existence. He wasn’t able to make it as a man originally, and then he failed miserably as a vampire, falling for a Slayer, and being the only one in history to willingly chain down his demon.

He’d lost it all. Strength, stealth, love, unlife.

Back to mousy William, reading stupid bloody poetry to make his friends happy. Friends that knew almost nothing about him. People that would run and hide of they knew what he’d been.

He really just wanted to go home and sit. But then he knew he’d think of her, and he hated that. If it wasn’t her it was him and the rest of his both shared and solely committed sins.

William took a deep breath and walked into the coffee shop.

***

Buffy was surprised she was enjoying herself so much. She knew Willow would be loving it, but the idea of hearing others read poetry seemed a little weird to her. In high school they attempted a “poetry slam”, all she remembered was being embarrassed for most of the people involved.

These people, who were blowing her away, were simply made to read poetry. Some were funny, some dramatic, some even had her close to tears. She heard some Ginsberg, Blake, Cummings, Shakespeare, and a decent amount of original work.

Buffy knew something was coming, the crowd was getting more and more excited. Willow had explained to her that the town had its very own resident poet. William Bennet had published his work only a year ago and Willow loved it. Apparently he was going to read tonight, and the witch was practically vibrating.

Finally the crowd quieted and a minute passed before anyone came on stage. Buffy leaned in to say something to Willow but suddenly the redhead pointed to the stage.

A lean man with a mess of brown curls stepped up and sat on the stool. His hair hung low and nearly covered his glasses. His cheekbones could cut glass and Buffy experienced a brief flash of deja vu. He looked so familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

She would have said he looked like Spike, but his manner was too far off. He was a clear introvert, and the hair was all wrong. Plus, Spike with glasses? Never happen.

“Does that guy look familiar to you?”

Willow swallowed hard and looked over at her friend nervously. “Uhh... no not really.”

***

William clutched his worn volume tightly. He really didn’t like getting up in front of crowds. Half of him was terrified that someone would recognize him, though he found it highly unlikely with the drastic change in his appearance, and the other half of him was just scared shitless of being humiliated again as he was so many years before.

He tried not the scan the crowd as it made him more nervous, but something drew his eyes out that night.

As it always did, the blonde caught his eyes, and the redhead next to her was unmistakable. His hands began to shake as he allowed his eyes to first rest on Willow before slowly moving to her.

He looked away quickly and kept his face down. He never thought...

“Oh Jesus,” he whispered to himself. He realized then that he’d been sitting there far too long.

He looked down at what he’d brought to read and shook his head. “How fucking appropriate.”

Finally, he looked up and smiled shyly. “Umm, nothing of my own tonight. I’m sure you’re happy to hear it.”

The crowd cried out in disappointment and he couldn’t help but smile again.

“Don’t worry, next week might see something new.” He took a sip of water and tried to breath normally. Apparently Buffy hadn’t recognized him, she wasn’t running up to attack him, or making any kind of a scene. Red, on the other hand, seemed a little too nervous.

Spike swore profusely in his head as he opened his book. “Uhh, so here’s something from the Divine Comedy. My favorite passage, part of Dante’s journey in Purgatory.”

Willow stared in shock at Spike. She had no idea the two Williams were the same Williams. And it seemed Buffy didn’t either, but it couldn’t take too long for her to catch on. Willow just hoped it was after they’d left town.

Now some of his poetry had an even deeper resonance, and Willow’s heart broke a little for him. And now he was going to read something from Dante? He obviously hadn’t dealt as well with the guilt as Angel had led them to believe.

Buffy knew there was something about this guy. He was setting something off in her that wouldn’t stop. He was so damned familiar, and she just couldn’t place it.

He began to read and Buffy fell under his spell, she now understood why these people were so intent on hearing him read, his voice was amazing. He drew her in, she never thought some old Italian could write so damned beautifully. The story of Dante, separated from his love Beatrice by death, he turns to a life of sin. She tries to help him by assigning him a guide and bringing him through hell and purgatory and finally into heaven.

She couldn’t help but feel that Spike must have felt a bit lost, trying to be a man when all he knew were the ways of his demon, but she had been no Beatrice to him.

William felt each word acutely. His attempt at being good for Buffy, the way he never quite managed it.

William’s voice cut into Buffy. He seemed so sincere in his reading. His words wrapped around her mind and she lost herself in his voice.

William couldn’t help but stare at Buffy as he read of Beatrice. She had been his guide, though unwilling. And nothing had ever been more beautiful to him than the Slayer. He looked back to his page, not wanting to draw her attention.

He felt her gaze. It burned him, years finally in the sun hadn’t prepared him for the intensity of her. He felt the shame creep up on him again. The horrible things he’d done to her, the way he’d taken advantage of her when she’d most needed real guidance.

No wonder she hadn’t come to him in the end. Angel had never used her that way. Angelus was one thing, but William had to admit that not much changed with a soul. He was a week man, and he wasn’t sure that if he had gotten his soul before she’d come back after the tower things would have turned out any differently.

When William finally reached Dante’s meeting with Beatrice after he is cleansed of his sins, his eyes were once again drawn to Buffy.

William’s voice cracked and he looked down again. She hadn’t changed at all. His heart was breaking as he imagined her going home to him. He had loved her so completely, but poor simpering poncey William could never compete with Angel, a man who was more than just physically strong.

What had he had to offer her as Spike other than muscle. She would break him now, wouldn’t be able to let go. That old feeling of worthlessness crept up on him.

Both Willow and William winced at the aptness of the passage, and suddenly Buffy understood. Just as William finished and stood to leave he heard her voice though it was barely more than a whisper.

“Spike?!”

William tried not to react. He tried to keep himself under control, but the sound of her voice was almost too much. He moved off of the stage quickly amidst the applause and grabbed his jacket before rushing to the door.

Buffy attempted to follow him but everyone got up at once and she was forced to wait. Finally, she made it outside and might have missed him if he hadn’t stumbled over a cobble in the road.

She ran for him, Willow trailing closely behind. Her hand caught his jacket and she spun him, pinning him against the wall.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

The closer she looked at him, the more she was confused. He looked like Spike, with longer hair and glasses, but his manner and his voice...

“Spike? I swear it’s you.”

William didn’t know what to do, he still had a way to keep her from finding out. He could deny it until she left him alone and then leave town as soon as she let him go.

“Ma’am, I don’t know who this Spike is, but-”

Buffy reached up for his glasses and took them off before he could finish. When she met his eyes he knew it was over.

“Spike?”

Her eyes filled with tears and his did too. He tried to look away but she held his chin. “Why... What-”

“Please just leave me alone.”

He sounded so lost that she had to step away from him. This wasn’t her Spike, it was too painful to see him like this.

“Buffy, maybe we should-”

Buffy held up a hand and Willow stepped away. “I’ll meet you back in the room?”

Buffy nodded but never too her eyes from Spike... or William.. she wasn’t sure.

William straightened his jacket and kept his eyes on the ground. She couldn’t be here, not after all he’d done to get rid of her memory.

“Can you just tell me that it’s you, I’m not just crazy?”

William finally met her eyes and wished he hadn’t. “Buffy... I can’t do this..”

He turned to walk away but she held him. “Please talk to me.. just for a minute, I have so much... I’ve been trying to find you, and now...”

She trailed off and he felt the pain in his stomach increase. Just as always, however, he couldn’t deny her anything.

“Yeah... let’s just.. we can sit out here.”

He gestured to some chairs and a table on the patio near the coffee shop. They sat awkwardly and William could tell she had a billion things to say but didn’t know where to start. Predictably, she didn’t wait for him.

“Have you been here all along?”

He nodded.

“Spike, did-”

“William.”

“What?”

He sighed and looked over at her. “I don’t... It’s William now.”

Buffy swallowed and nodded. “Ok, William... When you left, it wasn’t what you thought, with Angel.”

He looked up sharply and Buffy’s breath was knocked out of her by the pain in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. She reached over and covered one of his hands with hers. “Please talk to me.”

“How many times do I have to see you and he all over each other before I understand? Every time I thought I was getting somewhere he shows up, whether in spirit or with his actual lips. I just finally got it, Buffy, I’ll never be number one, and it’s fine.”

He got up to leave and she grabbed his wrist. “Spike-” she shook her head. “William, wait.”

He looked down at her.

“You are number one... you were then, I was just so relieved to see him ok... Can you please try to understand... I wanted,” she swallowed, “I want to see what can happen with us. I’ve been looking for you for so long... please don’t say it’s too late.”

William let out a shaky breath and swallowed back tears he refused to cry in front of her. “I don’t know.”

***

William tossed and turned, unable to sleep or get any peace of mind. His thoughts kept returning to Buffy and their brief, but painful conversation in the coffee shop. He shouldn't have given in and talked to her. He should have known that it would only cause his nearly mended heart to be torn to shreds again.

He should have known his body would sense her proximity and want all that she was offering.

He hadn't allowed himself to think of Buffy for long since his first and last weekend long binge as a human that left him reeling from a true hangover. Without his vampire healing it was nearly unbearable. Thinking about Buffy led to huge amounts of heartache, and the only way he knew to remedy that, was huge amounts of alcohol.

Waking up in a large puddle of his own vomit was something he vowed to never repeat. So he made a decision to stop his thoughts from going to her as often as he could. He couldn't help that he thought about her, but he could stop it before he got in too deep. Fleeting moments were all he allowed. A scent, a sound, seeing a flash of blond hair, they all did it, but he stopped them as soon as they started.

Now, faced with her again, unable to stop thinking of her, his body reacted the same way it always had.

He sighed and rolled onto his back, there was no way his erection was going away without some serious wanking.

This was another thing he hadn't really engaged in. Shutting himself off emotionally had seen to that. No real reason to get laid if he wasn't even going to enjoy it, so sex had been out, and, shockingly enough, he really hadn't missed getting off too much.

Sure, he'd wake up sometimes, sticky and feeling a little satisfied. Then he would remember what had caused the dream and it would be hard to keep away from the bottle.

So now, faced with this newest problem, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to what it would feel like with his newly enhanced senses. If it were anything like eating again, he may not be so inclined to ignore his occasional stiffy anymore.

His hands slid down his chest, brushing his nipples lightly on the way, shooting another bolt of arousal to his crotch. He sighed loudly when his hand finally made contact with his painfully erect member. His long fingers wrapped around it slowly, letting each sensation get it's full time to register in his brain.

Oh god, he couldn't believe he'd been missing this.

His hand slid slowly up to the head, and finding a good amount of precum already there, he smeared it back into his skin, using it for a little lubrication. He fought off the images of Buffy and tried to think of any random body. Some luscious tits to lick and suck, gorgeous tanned legs to wrap around his waist, one hot and deliciously wet pussy to take him in.

His hand sped up, and his other joined in, massaging his balls, taking up the slack of the other. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He wanted his fantasy to be real, he wanted to feel the liquid heat surrounding him, sucking him in and squeezing just hard enough.

He panted, his breath coming in short gasps, moans escaping his slightly parted lips. Oh god, he could feel his cock harden even more, it was bordering on pain now, he was so close he could taste it, taste her, his fantasy, his everything.

His balls tightened and he cried out her name, spilling his seed all over his hands and stomach.

"Oh god, Buffy!"

He returned to himself moments later. Totally satisfied, very sticky, and for the first time ever, limp after one go. He frowned down at himself and muttered something about human physiology before reaching for some tissues to clean himself up.

As he wiped the last of his spendings off of his abs he recalled the last, most beautiful bit of his fantasy, and the way he'd called out to her, the one he said he'd never want again.

"Oh, bloody hell."

***

William stayed hidden in his house most of the day. He didn’t want to chance running into Buffy. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. Part of him wanted to believe her, but why did it have to happen every bloody time.

It was always Angel, it had always been him. With Dru, with Buffy, he’d always been second best, and dammit, just for once he wanted to be first.

There was a time when he thought he could deal with it, but not now. Not when he’d tasted what it could be like without him. His last night with Buffy, holding her where it was just them, that’s what he wanted. Of course, things progressing wouldn’t be bad either, but he wasn’t about to settle for anything less.

Part of him knew that he was going to give her whatever she wanted in the end, but he tried to deny it. He still had his pride, didn’t he?

The phone rang and startled him out of his musings.

“Hello?”

“William?”

How the bloody hell did she get this number?! William composed himself and sighed. “Buffy.”

“Listen, I know that you want time, but I seem to have inherited your impatience.”

He smiled slightly at that.

“Can you meet me tonight?”

William swallowed. “Where?”

Buffy sighed in relief. “Umm, how about that pub, we can get a drink and talk?”

William nodded and then realized that they were on the phone. “Uh, yeah, sure, what time?”

“How about nine?”

He took a deep breath. “I’ll see you then.”

He moved to hang up but she called out. “William?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t get to tell you... but I’m really happy to see you again.”

His heart clenched in his chest and he tried to speak but nothing came out.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she said before hanging up.

***

He’d never felt like such an idiot. He was late meeting Buffy all because he wanted to look halfway decent. Last time he tried to look good for her it blew up in his face. In face, now that he thought about it, every time he attempted it, something shitty went down.

He sighed and straightened his jacket before opening the door to the pub.

“Fucking hell,” he said under his breath.

Buffy was surrounded. By some hungry looking men. If she weren’t the slayer he would have been more worried, now he was just sure that the powers loved to play tricks on him.

“Everything alright, luv?”

He asked possessively, his hand reaching through the mass of testosterone to seek her out. Buffy looked grateful and William felt a thrill run through him. She was definitely happy to see him, and in this situation at least, he was definitely number one.

“Hey mate, we were talking here.”

William’s good mood nearly vanished. “Yeah well, listen mate, the lady is with me.”

The burliest of the group stepped forward, he outweighed William by at least 75 pounds and towered over him. He gulped, he’d avoided confrontation as a human, and he was remembering why.

“Hey guys, I’ll see you later, I’ve got to talk to William for a bit, maybe some other time.”

William flashed her the most pitiful look and Buffy tried to convey with her eyes that she was just trying to get rid of them. He sighed and looked down. She didn’t need to do that for him.

“Just get the fuck out, yeah? She’s not interested.”

Buffy felt a thrill rush through her at William’s use of his cockney accent.

Thrill suddenly turned to worry as the big guy stepped closer to William.

“And what the hell are you going to do about it?”

“William, let’s just go.”

He was too far gone though, who the hell did this bastard think he was? Spike had been causing shits like him to piss his pants before he was a glimmer in the milkman’s eye. “I’ve got this Buffy,” he assured her.

“I’ve taken on bigger nasties than you and came out on top, most of the time without a scratch.”

“That so?”

“Spike, let’s go,” Buffy whispered with more force.

The use of that name brought him back into focus. He shook his head and looked apologetically to Buffy who just smiled slightly. He turned to go but the man grabbed his shoulder.

“You gonna let that little bitch tell you what to do?”

William spun with more speed than he thought possible as a human and decked the larger man, knocking him on his ass. “Apologize!”

For a second he was stunned, but before William could be horrified by his actions, the big guy stood and leaned over him. “You little shit!”

“Apologize to her.”

“To that little slut, she was ready to give it up to us all before you walked in, she-”

William swung again but the man caught his fist easily and twisted his arm around. His face was on the floor and his ribs were bruised before he knew what was happening.

Buffy was so shocked by all of it that she didn’t react until William let out a particularly high pitched yelp. With one hit the guy was out and Buffy shot a menacing look to the others before helping a barely conscious William up and out of the pub.

“Where can we go?”

William directed her to his home and soon they were inside. She led him to the bedroom and walked to his bathroom, starting a bath and coming back with a bag of ice.

“That was pretty pointless, William.”

He sighed and put the ice against his eye that was already swelling shut. His face flushed with shame. She was the slayer, and he was just a stupid and small human.

Proved just what a good man you can be.

“’m sorry, Buffy.”

She sighed and touched his face. “Don’t be.”

They sat in silence for a moment, their eyes occasionally meeting. She was stroking his hair and her nearness was doing things to him he didn’t want to explore.

God, he loved her.

“I think your bath is ready. I should check your ribs.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Could you...”

She nodded and her face flamed. He undressed while she waited outside and slid into the bath, his cuts and scrapes stinging. His ribs were aching, and he figured they might be broken.

“So stupid!”

“Can I come in?”

He looked up sharply and swallowed. “Yeah,” he said shakily.

Buffy came in and shut the door softly, trying not to let him see how entirely uncomfortable this was for her. She knelt next to the tub and tried to get his attention.

“I’ll just check these,” she whispered when he wouldn’t look at her. Her hands skimmed along his shoulders and down his chest. He sucked in a breath when he reached a tender spot.

Her hand shot back and she looked at him apologetically. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “’S ok, luv.”

She met his eyes and smiled. “I missed that.”

“What?”

“The names, no one else does that for me.”

He swallowed. “I missed...”

When he didn’t finish she looked down. She examined the rest of his ribs, but she didn’t stop touching him when she was done.

"Umm.. I don't think anything's broken," she whispered, her voice betraying her.

She both felt and saw his breathing speed up. His skin was heating up, and hers was too. Being this close to each other after so much time apart was killing her.

Her hand slid lower and lower until she dipped below the water. He grabbed her wrist lightly and she looked up.

“Buffy...” he swallowed and met her eyes. “I can’t... if this isn’t real, I won’t be able to...” He looked away and clenched his jaw. “I want it all, Buffy, I can’t settle for anything less.”

“Spike...”

When she hesitated he let go of her hand and stood. He didn’t care that he was naked and half-erect, though that wasn't lasting long, she’d seen it all before. The look on his face was more embarrassing, he wore his heart on his sleeve and she could see everything. He hated it.

He wrapped a towel around his waist with jerky motions and didn’t hear her stand behind him.

“Spike, wait, please...”

He turned and faced her tears in his eyes. “I’ve waited, Buffy. I’ve waited since the moment I bloody met you for something, for some little scrap. You give me these hints, these vague little bits that I could think might mean something, but none of it means anything to you.”

He wiped at his eyes angrily.

“All of this is probably so fucking funny. Why did you come here? Did you think I would play the same game. I told Angel, I told him not to find me, I told him to tell you not to find me!”

His heaving breath was making his ribs ache but he couldn’t stop. “Is ripping my heart out so fucking amusing that you have to keep doing it? I fucking hate this Buffy, I hate-”

She rushed forward and put a hand over his mouth. "Please don't say it. If you never speak to me again..." she looked into his eyes and he saw that hers were wet as well. "Just don't finish that."

He swallowed hard and turned away from her. "I think you should go."

She nodded her head slowly and started to gather her things, but when she saw him wince as he attempted to lower himself onto the bed without further injuring himself she stopped. "Wait, Sp-" she stopped herself and took a breath. "William... let me help you.. maybe explain something." He didn't react, just stayed half-standing, his hand clenching the sheets. "Please."

If she weren't watching him so closely, she would have missed his slight nod. She stepped behind him slowly, helping him onto the bed and pulling a sheet up to cover him to the waist. He grabbed the towel and tossed it to the side once he was covered and she picked it up and took her time putting it back in the bathroom, trying to get ready.

By the time she returned, his eyes were closed. She sighed and sat next to him on the bed, trying not to wake him. Her fingers traced the lines of his face, and she noticed he looked so much older than she remembered. His once perfect and nearly unmarred skin had wrinkles and stubble was starting to show.

He'd never shaved in front of her as a vampire, and she'd never seen any evidence that he'd needed to, but she wasn't sure. She didn't pay much attention back then.

Her hands wandered to his chest and arms. These were still perfect, and he was still as pale as ever. She stopped when she reached the place where his heart was, her fingers millimeters from his skin. She could sense the blood pumping inside him, and she could see the tiny bit of movement on his neck where his pulse was located.

Finally, she lowered her hand and let out a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding. He was real, he was alive... but he wasn't hers.

"Does this change things, then?"

She started at the sound of his voice. "I didn't know you were awake."

He closed his eyes. "What were you going to say?"

"Are things different? I mean, do things feel different?"

"Buffy..."

She moved her hand back to his heart and tried to catch his eye, but he avoided her. "When I found out you were... that you'd been back, I was going to try to find you then, but the whole war thing, they needed me. I would have come for you, even without this."

"What would you have said?"

She laughed lightly. "I was going to yell at you for not telling me. I wanted to punch you in the nose again." He snorted and she smiled.

"Mostly, I wanted to kiss you, and tell you..."

He waited but she seemed to need some help. "Don't, if you don't...." he covered her hand with his and brought it up to his lips, placing a soft, but passionate kiss on her palm. "I was lying before, you know I can't live without-"

"No, William... You deserve so much more than that."

"So you're saying that you don't-"

"I do."

William looked up into her eyes and saw the same thing he'd witnessed down below the school. So much emotion, he never thought it'd be directed his way.

"You weren't just saying it."

"You know I meant it... you were just being the same old stubborn vampire that always had to have the last word."

"Yeah," he whispered smiling. "But I'm not a vampire anymore."

She leaned down and kissed him then, her lips surprisingly soft against his. It had been so long since she'd touched him like this. Just the taste of her and he was rock hard.

"Buffy..." he whispered against her cheek, his mouth moving to nibble and suck on her neck. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too."

Her hands were everywhere, and he hadn't remembered her being this desperate but tender since that night when she'd broken up with him. There was something different this time though. She wasn't desperate to prove anything to anyone. She just wanted him so much, and he could feel it.

It was the best thing he'd ever been a part of.

He rolled so that she was under him, his ribs protesting, but the euphoria caused by her touch blocked the pain. He moved his hands from her waist to her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples. She moaned underneath him and helped him remove her shirt.

"Been so long.."

"Too long," she agreed, her hands clutching at his biceps as his mouth descended to her now naked breasts. She arched her back, pushing herself more firmly against him, her hips grinding into his steel erection.

"Fuck..." he sighed against her breasts, his body unaccustomed to this much stimulation in this form. He pulled back suddenly and she looked up at him, startled.

"What is it?"

He pulled himself into a sitting position and wrapped the sheet around his waist, attempting to mask his arousal. "I... we can't just-"

"You're right. I'm sorry." She sat up against the headboard, pulling half of the sheet up to her chest.

Spike sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"When did you change it?"

He looked at her funny for a minute before realization dawned. "Oh.. uhh, just kind of grew out. Didn't fancy keeping it long."

She scooted closer to him and touched his hair, running her fingers through the silky locks. He leaned into her touch, his eyes drifting closed. He could get used to this gentleness from her.

"What else is different? I want to know everything."

He began to tell her about his journey to England, the things that had changed. He didn't say it in so many words, but she knew the reason he'd changed. He was cautious now, and a little scared. It was strange to see him like that.

They talked for hours, both sharing everything from the past two years. She told him about getting rid of the Immortal the moment war broke out. He confided in her about his brief and unsatisfying tryst with Harmony. The fact that they could laugh about it now, the way they'd tried to avoid each other, was cathartic in a way.

Somehow, they'd managed to lay back down together and now Buffy was wrapped in his arms, his body pressed up against her back.

The last thing he remembered was that the smell of her hair hadn't changed.

"You use the same shampoo?"

Buffy giggled but when she went to answer, he was already asleep.

***

William woke to soft kisses being pressed to his bare chest. Buffy's legs were entwined with his, and he didn't remember her taking off her pants last night, but they were gone this morning.

"Morning."

"Mmmm..." he moaned sleepily.

She moved up his body and kissed him softly. Slowly it moved from soft and tender to a little wild and passionate. His hands slid up her arms and pulled her hard against him, but she held herself back.

"What is it?" he whispered against her cheek.

"I don't want to hurt your ribs."

He rolled them so that he was on top and grimaced. "I'll be fine."

"William..."

He sighed and kissed her. "I don't care, just want you to touch me." She looked skeptical and he met her eyes. "It's worth it."

She smiled and kissed him again, her hands moving more freely this time. He moaned loudly and moved his mouth to her neck, doing all the things he remembered her loving.

"God, Buffy, I've waited so long for this..."

She pushed him onto his back and straddled him. She pinned his hands above his head and smiled mischievously. Her hands ran down his arms and to his chest. She brushed his nipples with her fingers and he thrust his hips up, seeking contact for his aching member.

She gripped his hips with her thighs and kept them down before bending and laving at his chest, causing him to cry out.

She sat up and looked down at him, her hands taking over where her mouth left off. "Is this different?"

"What do you mean?"

She gazed down at his body and wondered what he would feel like inside her. Their combined heat and his blood pumping quickly through his veins. She was unbelievably anxious to find out.

"You said some things were different, like eating... I was wondering... do I feel... is this different?"

He looked up at her and she saw his eyes darken with desire. "Yeah.." he whispered unsteadily. "Very different."

"Tell me," she murmured against his chest. "Tell me what it feels like."

Her lips blazed a path down his chest, lingering on his nipples before making her way to his hips. He whispered curses and words of adoration above her, unable to form a coherent sentence. She pulled the sheet off of him and watched as his cock jumped the closer her fingers came to touching him.

"Tell me..."

Spike closed his eyes and swallowed. "I didn't know... never felt anything like it. I thought before it was the best thing... you always felt so warm around me, seeping into me, and now... God it's like, we're making it together." He opened his eyes and sought hers out. "Equals."

She moved back up to kiss him and he rolled them over. Her legs spread easily to accommodate his hips and he settled between them. He reached down and positioned himself at her entrance before meeting her eyes again.

“I-” something crossed his face and he pulled back. “Oh shit!”

“What is it?”

He grimaced and she could swear he was blushing. “I don’t... I mean, it was never an issue before, but-”

“William?”

“Yes, luv?”

“I don’t think it really matters... I mean, unless you’ve been-”

“No, no one. But what about... I mean, you’re on the pill then?”

“No, but... I don’t... I’m not really slaying anymore and-”

He smiled down at her before kissing her softly. “You’re sure about it?”

She was silent for a moment and he was a little worried she was changing her mind. But she took his face in her hands and smiled. “I love you.”

It was all that he needed and he pushed inside of her with one slow thrust. They both cried out from the pleasure of it. He buried his face in her neck and attempted to get himself under control. He’d never felt anything as incredible as this, not ever when they’d been together before, even at its best it couldn’t compare.

Finally, he felt like he could move again and he raised himself up so that he could see her face. He pulled almost all the way out before pushing in again, this time hard and fast, and Buffy cried out his name when he hit the sweet spot inside of her.

“Again.. oh God, Spike, please!”

He pushed inside her harder, his sweat mingling with hers for the first time. They moved together in an ancient rhythm, the sound of their flesh slapping together spurred him on.

“God, Buffy, I love you! It’s never... never been this good!”

She shook her head and kissed him, her tongue and lips conveying what she couldn’t say out loud. Her hips rose to meet his faster and harder than before and he felt his orgasm building. It was too soon though, he knew she would last much longer than he could at this point if he didn’t do something about it.

He reached between them and rubbed her clit, making her clench tight around him. He groaned and dipped his head, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. It was too much for her, too many sensations and she clutched him to her hard as she began to shudder under him, crying out for Spike.

The feel of her pussy constricting around him forced Spike to follow her and he buried his head in her hair, moaning her name.

He collapsed on top of her but rolled quickly, careful not to crush her. Even if she was the slayer, she still needed oxygen. They caught their breath, holding each other close.

“I’m sorry... I know you want to go by William-”

“Shh... You know who I am.. better than anyone. I don’t think that part matters anymore.”

She kissed his chest and rested her cheek against it. “Was it better this way?”

He smiled. “Want to know a secret, luv?”

“What?”

“You’re the first. This way I mean.”

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. “You were a virgin? Before?”

He shrugged. “Victorian gentleman and all that. William took that seriously. Also he was one poncy bugger.”

She giggled and kissed him. “I guess we should make up for all that lost time then.”

His face turned serious. “So.. we’re together then?”

She looked mildly uncomfortable and he worried that he was pushing her. “I’m sorry, luv, nevermi-”

“No, Spike.. Is that what you want?”

“’Course it is,” he said without hesitation.

“Then yeah, I want to be with you. We’ll have to work out something. I still live in London, and you-”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said rolling her back under him. “Got lots of shagging to make up for just now.”

He kissed her hard and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Mmm... shagging definitely better than talking.”

For once, he most heartily agreed.