Author's Chapter Notes:
{A/N: This is the continuation of the AU story 'Room Service'. The events in this story take place a month after what happened in the first one. There's some angst and sad stuff in this fic, but don't let it get you too down. I really packed the sex into this one, I hope it doesn't get too tiresome *wink*}

* Smooches to Tiana for beta’ing me yet again. Luv ya, babe!
** Thanks to Edgehead and Ally for the awesome banners!
*** The song 'Fire' is by Bruce Springsteen; 'Maybe I'm Amazed' is by Paul McCartney.

Joss and ME own everything, I own diddly-squat.
Buffy sat in her English class, doodling on her notebook and daydreaming.

It had been a month since she got back home to Sunnydale and she still couldn't get Spike out of her mind. Their wild, passionate night together was burned into her memory for all-time.

The way her skin tingled when he touched her; the way his skin felt sliding against hers; his stormy blue eyes burning into hers; the way his face looked when he came; the taste of his skin, mouth and cock; how his lips and tongue felt on her body; how it felt when he was inside of her... It was all so fresh in her mind. She longed to see him or just hear his voice again.

Buffy had tried to put it in the past, to not miss him. But her dreams were filled with visions of him. Spike smirking and beckoning to her; Spike kissing and licking trails over her body; Spike telling her what wicked things he wanted to do to her, his silky, low voice sending lightning bolts straight to her sex; Spike naked and laid out before her like a sinfully delicious buffet; Spike's soft lips curling into a smile as he brushed them over hers...

Buffy even went so far as to call the escort service he worked for, a week after she got home to find out how he was. She had been surprised to learn that he no longer worked for them.

She'd never see him again. Many a night was spent crying into her pillow for the man she burned for but could never touch again. It didn't help to think that he didn't think of her as anything but another client. He had made her feel so special... but that was his job. Still, Buffy couldn't shake the notion that he felt something for her too. He had been so tender and, yes, loving with her...

She felt like a moron for developing feelings for him, for craving him like she did. But the fact remained, she was head over heels in love with a gigolo.

'Other people can have lots of sex and not have it mean anything, why can't I? Why did I have to fall in love with him?'

"Buffy, could you at least pretend to pay attention?"

She looked up sharply at Mr. Holtz, her English teacher. He was shaking his head at her with a disapproving expression. All of her classmates' eyes were on her. She blushed furiously.

"Sorry, Mr. Holtz," she mumbled.

"I know all of your minds are on graduation and the upcoming Prom..." Mr. Holtz addressed the class. "But we still have one more month of school to get through, people. Focus."

The class groaned as he went back to discussing the merits of Dickens' work.

Buffy headed for the library for her free period.

Her friends met there everyday to spend some time together with Mr. Giles (or just plain Giles, as they liked to call him) the school librarian. He was a bit stuffy, but a very kind and gentle-mannered man. In the year she'd known him, she'd come to think of him as a father figure. He was much better than the one that life saw fit to stick her with.

Speaking of father figures... Her own father had called when he got the bill for the weekend. Buffy was scared of his what his reaction would be, despite how smug she had been in New York. But her father hadn't even complained about it.

He was all, "That's okay, sweetie. I told you to spend and you did. No problem."

Hank Summers hadn't even batted an eyelash about the X-rated movies Buffy had ordered.

Somehow, that was even worse than if he'd bitched at her. She wanted to get some kind of reaction from him. It was like he didn't care about anything she did at all.

Buffy thought about her return to Sunnydale after that weekend in New York as she walked to the library.

Her girlfriends had known immediately that she'd 'gotten laid' while she was away. Cordy said that Buffy had that certain 'glow' about her. They pumped her for details.

Buffy gave them as few details as possible. She told them that she'd met a gorgeous guy named Will in her hotel (she kept the name Spike to herself, that name was only for her). He had blond hair and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She'd said that her and Will hit it off right away, and engaged in mad, passionate, monkey lovin' all night long. She certainly wasn't going to tell them that he was 'hired help'.

Willow and Cordy were very interested in hearing about what kind of stuff Buffy and Will did. It was really embarrassing but Buffy gave them some details; how great he was at oral sex; the inhuman way he would move his tongue; how great his body was; how big he was. She couldn't tell them how many times they'd 'did it' because she'd lost count along the way. Willow and Cordy giggled, gasped and laughed into their hands the entire time. They both had agreed: Buffy was one lucky bitca.

But Buffy didn't feel so lucky. Yes, she and Spike shared an incredible night of passion that would always be special to her... but she would never see him again. Never feel his touch. Never look into his smiling blue eyes. Her longing for him was getting worse instead of better. She had expected it to get less painful as time went on, not more so.

Buffy put on a happy face and breezed through the library doors.

"Hey, guys!" she greeted her friends, who were seated around the main table.

They all said their 'hellos'. Buffy walked over and pulled up a chair, putting her bookbag on the floor at her feet.

"So, what's happenin'? Anything interesting going on today?" Buffy asked.

"Nope," Xander said tiredly, dark circles lined his eyes. "Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel. Why do they make us drag ourselves back here every morning after finals? What's the frickin' point?"

"You're forgetting that they love to torture us," Willow pointed out.

"Ah, yes. Thanks, Wills. How could I forget that they're sadistic bastards?" Xander put his head down on the table.

His girlfriend, Cordelia, patted his head.

"Just think, we still have Prom to look forward to," Cordy said with a smile.

Giles came out of his office, looking harried as usual, carrying a stack of books. He smiled when he saw his young friends gathered at their table, and placed his books on the counter.

"How is everyone this morning?" Giles asked cordially.

The Scoobies (their nickname for themselves) mumbled and groaned.

Giles laughed. "Now, let's not have any of that. It's almost over. You've made it this far. You can get through one more month. Stiff upper lip and all that rot."

They grumbled.

"Oh!" Giles said, remembering something important. "Do you recall me telling you about my son, William?"

They nodded.

"Well, he's popped in for a visit. He'll be helping me here in the library while he's here." Giles smiled broadly.

He was obviously pleased that his son came to see him. He looked towards the door of his office. "William? There are some people I'd like you to meet. Could you come out for a minute?" Giles called.

"Dad," William said, coming out of the office, "I thought I asked you to call me Spike?"

"I will call you no such thing. Your mother and I gave serious thought to your name and I won't call you by any other. Especially not Spike. Really, what kind of name is that?" Giles good-naturedly ribbed his son.

Buffy went white and froze the moment she heard him speak. She had to be wrong. It couldn't be him. She turned slowly in her seat until her eyes came to rest on him standing next to Giles. It was him. New York Spike.

At the same time Buffy's eyes landed on him, Spike looked in her direction. Their eyes met. Shock and recognition registering on both their faces.

'OHGODOHGODOHGOD!' Their minds screamed.

'It's him!'

'It's her!'

Giles continued talking, oblivious. "Everyone, this is my son William. William, I'd like you to meet," Giles pointed out each student as he said their names, "Xander, Willow, Oz, Cordelia and Buffy. They're students here as well as good friends of mine."

The group heartily greeted Spike. Willow and Cordy's eyes skimmed over him, taking in the hard lines of muscle under his tight black t-shirt and jeans. They were crazy about their boyfriends, but they were still women. Looking couldn't hurt.

Spike felt like he was in the middle of a dream. It was Darla, the woman from the hotel in New York. The one he hadn't been able to forget. The one that haunted his dreams night after night. The one he had spent many hours fantasizing about while he stroked himself to orgasm.

But... her name was Buffy. Not Darla. And... she was... a bloody-fucking high school student!

'Oh fuck! How old is she? I'll bloody well hang myself if she's 15!' Spike's mind raced.

'HOLY SHIT! He's here! And he's Giles' son!? Oh God! This can't be happening!' Buffy thought.

They both panicked, but struggled not to let it show in their expressions. Under the surface of their panic, they were both thrilled to see each other again. It was literally a dream come true for both of them. Their minds were occupied, but their bodies reacted to the other's presence. Their skin itched to be touched and stroked by each other's hands, their loins throbbed with want.

Spike took a deep breath and walked over to shake hands with the young people. He put on a friendly smile and shook each of their hands in turn, giving them a warm hello. He saved Buffy for last.

"H-Hello," Buffy said. "Nice to... meet you." Her voice trembled slightly. She didn't want the others to suspect anything.

Spike took her hand in his. They both fought back a shiver at the contact. Electricity shot out from their hands, racing up their arms and through the rest of their bodies, cutting through the surprise and shock.

He was getting hard.

She was getting wet.

Their bodies knew what they wanted, even if their brains were muddled.

"Nice to meet you too," Spike kept his voice steady, "Buffy."

'Take it easy, mate! She's here, it's her... You're touching her... But you can handle this... Bloody hell! I'm a sick fucker! I know she's just a kid, but I still want to throw her down on this table and fuck her like I've dreamed about for a bloody month! Please God, give me strength!'

He gave her a sideways 'We have to talk!' look and released her hand.

Buffy gulped. 'I'm dead! He knows what a big fat liar I am! If there is a God, I will be killed in a bizarre dodgeball accident in gym class before the end of the day. Oh...he's even more of a hottie than I remembered... I want him so bad!

"Are you in college? You look like a college man..." Cordelia asked, her eyes discreetly scanning up and down his body.

Xander frowned. He didn't like his girlfriend checking out this... handsome, British, blond with the muscular arms and firm looking pecs and... Xander decided he couldn't blame her. After all, he had been checking him out too just now -- in a purely scientific way, of course. As long as Cordy didn't try pawing this Spike guy, it was okay.

Oz didn't mind Willow's checking Spike out. He was totally secure in their relationship. Even if the guy looked like he stepped out the pages of a magazine.

"Uh, no. I'm not in college anymore. I'm 24," Spike said.

Buffy looked away. 'That's only 6 years separating us... that's not too bad.'

"Hey, G-Man!" Xander smiled at Giles. "How can you have a 24-year-old son if you're 38?"

"38?!" Spike snorted. "That's a good one! Vanity thy name is Rupert," he chuckled.

Giles shot Spike a warning look.

"I was... practically a child when William was born. Now, let's never speak of it again."

Buffy walked home by herself after school.

She was still in shock that her secret lover had showed up in town and that he was Giles' son. Giles was like a second, better dad to her. It was majorly freaky. It was true what those annoying little dolls sang on the ride at Disneyland, it really was a small world after all.

Buffy had skipped out of school early to avoid the inevitable conversation with Spike. She knew that he'd corner her sooner or later. She both dreaded and ached to talk to him again. She had lied her ass off that night in New York, and now he knew the truth. Would he be angry? Would he yell at her?

Just as Buffy was walking onto her driveway, a car pulled up in front of the house. An old, mint-condition, black DeSoto.

Her breath caught in her throat when Spike got out and looked at her over the roof of the car for a moment, then he moved around to stand near the trunk, allowing her to see all of him. He looked gorgeous. The sun shone down on his blond hair, making it look even whiter. In addition to his black t-shirt and jeans, he was wearing a long black leather duster coat. It looked so good on him. He was smoking a cigarette. Normally, Buffy didn't find smoking sexy, but on him, it looked good. On him, anything could look good. He took a puff and flicked the butt away.

"Hi," Spike said, blowing out the hit, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his coat and staring at her.

"H-Hi. Did... you follow me?" Buffy asked in a squeaky voice.

"Yeah. You left before... we had a chance to... talk." His sparkling blue eyes bored into her.

Buffy panicked. "I-I don't want to talk."

She walked quickly to her front door, fumbling with her house keys. Spike appeared beside her on the porch.

"Damn it, Dar-- Sorry, it's not Darla, it's Buffy, isn't it? Forgive me. After thinking of you as Darla all month, it's a bit difficult to get used to using your real name," he said with a note of sarcasm.

Buffy tried putting the key in the lock, but kept missing. Her hands were shaking too much.

Spike saw how terrified she was and instantly regretted his attitude. Even if she did deserve to be reprimanded about it. He reached out and took her hands in his, turning her to face him. She looked up into his eyes, her whole body trembling.

"We need to clear the air, pet. I have things I need to say to you," he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

Buffy nodded imperceptibly. She'd agree to anything when he was touching her and gazing into her eyes.

"O-Okay. Just... don't yell at me." Her chin quivered.

Spike's heart melted. He wanted to gather her up in his arms and... He took a shaky breath and smiled.

'Be strong... be strong... be strong...' Spike repeated to himself.

"I won't yell. Promise."

Buffy smiled weakly then unlocked the front door. He followed Buffy into the living room. She sat on the couch stiffly. She wasn't looking forward to this discussion.

Spike sat down on the other side of the couch and turned to look at her.

"My mom will be home around 6... you probably should leave before then..." Buffy said, looking down at the floor. "What happened to the fancy Porsche that woman gave you?"

"Sold it. It'd be hard to convince my dad that I got the money for it by getting a few short stories published... You... won't tell anyone what I do for a living... will you?" Spike asked anxiously. "My father... I doubt he'd be... proud, to say the least..."

"No. Of course not... Your secret's safe with me. I won't tell anyone." Buffy scratched at the fabric of the couch.

They were silent for a few moments.

"You're still in high school. Why didn't you tell me? Why did you pretend --"

"I'm 18. So don't wig out." Buffy fidgeted.

Spike blew out a breath. She wasn't as young as he had feared. But... she was still too young for him.

"Well, that's a relief. But why did you pretend to be Darla St. John? What were you thinking? And inviting a man you didn't know into your hotel room..."

"I... wasn't thinking. I mean, there I was, all alone in the city, getting loopy and horn-- Um, lonely. And suddenly there you were, standing outside my door looking so good... so hot... I lost it. I'm... sorry." Buffy hung her head.

Spike sighed. "They fired me, you know. The real Darla St. John was right pissed that I never showed up."

Buffy's head shot up. "They... fired you? Oh God, I'm so sorry! I didn't think you'd get in trouble... I know it was stupid to pretend... They didn't say they fired you, they said you left..."

"Who told you I left?" Spike furrowed his brow.

Buffy looked away again, her face turning red.

"Buffy," he said in a soft voice, "did you call the service looking for me?"

His heart pounded painfully at the thought of her trying to contact him again. She’d been unable to forget him, too?

"Kind of... I just... I don't know... wanted to hear your voice..." She played with the hem of her red mini-skirt then looked at him, her eyes shiny. "I wanted to know... how you were."

"I felt... the same way," Spike said, unconsciously moving closer to her. "I called the hotel and asked if there were a number where the woman who had stayed in Suite 213 could be reached. Needless to say, they wouldn't give me the information..."

"Really?" Buffy’s heart thudded. He'd tried to find her too! That night did mean as much to him as it did to her! She did a mental Snoopy dance. She moved closer to him, and their thighs touched. Their breathing hitched up a notch.

Spike nodded. His eyes going from hers to her slightly parted lips. He wanted to kiss her so bad. He knew that he shouldn't. She was too young... she was a friend and student of his dad's... it was wrong... but... He leaned over, slowly closing the distance between them and brushing his lips over hers. He was powerless against the force of his attraction to her.

They moaned and melted into the kiss, their arms coming up to wrap around the other. Their long month of frustration and longing was at last coming to an end.

"Oh, Spike!" Buffy mumbled against his lips, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

After a minute, they broke away, panting, their eyes closed. They slowly opened their eyes, now glazed over with lust.

"Forgive me?" Buffy breathed. "For lying and getting you fired, I mean."

"It's alright, pet. I know you didn't mean any harm." Spike looked back to her kiss-swollen lips, eager to dive back in for more.

"Spike, I missed you so much." Buffy sighed dreamily.

They searched each other's eyes for a moment before lunging at each other, fusing their mouths together, kissing desperately and hungrily.

"Oh! Yes! Missed you! Want you!" Buffy gasped when Spike tore his mouth from hers and attacked her neck, biting and sucking.

"Buffy! God, I've been going crazy thinking about you!" Spike gasped against her neck.

"I... wasn't just another... client, then?" she asked breathlessly.

Spike pulled back to look in her eyes. She could see the same desperation and longing in his eyes that she was feeling.

"No. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about you, dreaming about you. I --"

Buffy cut him off by smashing her mouth against his. She pushed him down on the couch and climbed on top of him. Her body singing at once again being draped over his. His hardening cock poked up at her.

They kissed as their happy hands flew over the other's body. Buffy pulled his shirt out from where it was tucked into his jeans and ran her hand underneath to touch the bare skin of his abdomen and chest. They were both shivering from the lust running rampant through their helpless bodies. Spike moved his hands down her back to cup her ass, kneading it roughly.

Buffy gasped and sat up to straddle him, hiking her skirt up around her waist. Then she dropped back down to continue their kiss, grinding her box against his hard-on.

"Uhh! Spike!" Buffy groaned, nibbling at his lips while unbuttoning his jeans. "Want you!"

She stuck her hands down the front of his pants to feel that big, beautiful cock of his.

"Ahhh! Yes! Buffy!" Spike gasped as she gripped his hard dick and slid her hand up and down its length. His eyes rolled back from the mind-numbing pleasure her touch brought him.

"Need you! Oh God, I need you!" Buffy panted, bringing his cock out with one hand while the other moved her soaked panties aside.

Just as she was slipping his bulbous prickhead between her dewy folds, the sound of a car door being shut in the driveway was heard.

It took a moment for Buffy's brain to process the meaning of the sound.

Her eyes bugged out. "Oh my God! My mother!"

She leapt off of him. They both hurriedly fixed their clothing and smoothed their disheveled hair.

It hit home again to Spike that this was wrong. He shouldn't have to be worried about the woman's mother coming home to find them coiled around each other. Buffy was just too young for him. Maybe when she was off on her own, in college, things... would be different.. It hurt like hell, he wanted to be with her so badly. But he had to be strong.

Joyce Summers entered through the front door and walked to the living room. She looked at Spike and Buffy sitting innocently on the couch. They stood up as she entered.

"Hi, sweetie. I was just about to ask you who the car parked in front of the house belonged to..." Joyce smiled.

Her eyes swept over the good-looking young man.

'Yum!' Joyce thought. 'Please don't let this be one of her high school friends... I don't want to feel like a dirty old woman...'

"Uh, hi, Mom. You get out of work early? Oh, and this is Spike... he's, uh, Giles' son."

"There wasn't much going on at the gallery so I cut out early. Nice to meet you, Spike. Your father is such a charming man." Joyce shook Spike's hand.

"Hello, Mrs. Summers. Yeah, Dad is quite a guy. And I can see where Buffy gets her good looks from." Spike shot her a devastatingly sexy smile.

"Please, don't Mrs. Summers me!" Joyce blushed and laughed, her body temperature going up by several degrees. "Call me Joyce."

"Joyce it is, then," Spike agreed.

"Are you... in high school too?" Joyce asked him, hoping the answer was ‘no’.

"No, hardly... I've been out for a few years now..."

Joyce smiled. My, my, my... he is a handsome young man... so lean and tight-looking... Wonder if he likes older, more experienced women?' The thought flitted through Joyce's head.

"Spike drove me home from school. Wasn't that nice of him?" Buffy lied.

"Thank you , Spike. Aren't you sweet! Would you like something to drink?" Joyce asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Uh, no thank you, Joyce. I have to get going, actually." Spike looked at his watch.

"Well, it was nice meeting you. I hope you come by again... soon. Buffy, I'm going to take a hot bath and relax for a while before dinner. Call me if you need something, okay?"

"Sure, Mom." Buffy smiled.

"Bye, Spike."

"Bye, Joyce."

With one last flirty glance, Joyce went upstairs.

Once they heard the bathroom door shut, they turned back toward each other. They looked down awkwardly. Buffy picked at an imaginary piece of lint on her shirt.

"Buffy... what just happened -- what almost just happened -- we have to control ourselves. I didn't come here intending to... I just wanted to talk."

She looked up. "You didn't want to... I thought you wanted me." Her lip trembled.

"I did. I do."

He walked up to her, and cupped her face in his hands. She leaned into his touch.

"You're just so bloody young," Spike said with a melancholy expression.

"Why do you say it like that? I'm 18. I'm old enough, it's not like I'm jailbait. You won't get in trouble."

"Maybe not with the law. But I don't think your mum would be pleased that a 24-year-old man was sniffing around her 18-year-old daughter. And my Dad... he'd have a stroke if he knew that I'd... been with you. He seems to be very protective of you."

"You don't want to be with me, do you?" Buffy started to panic, tears popping up in her eyes.

'This can't be happening! I can't have found him again only to have him reject me! Oh God! Why do I have to be in love with him?!'

She didn't like the sound of what he was saying. There was no way she wanted to be apart from him any longer, not when fate had brought them back together. There was still an intense heat between them. Couldn't he feel it, too? Buffy felt like she was going to hyperventilate.

"Buffy, I meant what I said before. I... really have been thinking about you, wanting you... but it just couldn't work out between us. Besides your age there's also the fact that I'm leaving for L.A. to start a new job in a month... It wouldn't be right to start up something --"

"What? What about what happened before my mom came home? Why were you all over me?" Buffy said, becoming more distressed by the minute. He just couldn't mean what he was saying.

"That was... it was weakness on my part. I should have tried to control myself..." It was ripping his heart out to say these things to her when all he wanted to do was wrap himself around her petite frame and stay there forever.

"What? You like older women, right? Because you were so totally flirting with my mom! Right in front of me!" Buffy's voice was becoming more shrill.

"I was being polite. Just calm down. Lower your voice!" Spike whispered.

"Do you think I'm too immature? Is that what you think? 'Cause I'm not!"

"Bloody hell, Buffy! Why are you making this so hard? Will you stop it? Stop being such a spoiled bloody brat! Your mum is going to hear you!" Spike looked up the stairs nervously. He really didn't intend to snap at her and call her a brat. But the tension and stress of the moment had gotten to him.

Buffy was angry and didn't stop to think before she bit back at him, her emotions got the better of her and took over her mouth.

"Spoiled brat?! Well, at least I'm not a who-" Buffy eyes opened wide in shock at what she'd almost said. She clapped a hand over her mouth.

Spike's head snapped back around to look at her, his eyes widened slightly before his face crumbled. So, that's what she really thought of him...

"No... No you're not. I'm the only whore around here," Spike said sadly. He clenched and unclenched his jaw then turned and went out the front door.

Buffy raced after him, catching him by the arm and turning him back around to face her. The hurt look on his face shattered her heart.

"Spike! Spike, I didn't mean that! I don't know what made me say that! I'm sorry!"

"Don't apologize. It's the truth. I am a whore... and that's all I'll ever be to you," he said with an edge to his voice, his eyes bright.

"No! That's not true, I don't think that! I was just upset that you said you didn't want to be with me, and I didn't know what I was saying."

"Just let me go." Spike pulled his arm out of her grasp.

"Spike, please..." Buffy cried.

With a withering look he turned and walked to his car. Buffy hugged herself, tears ran down her face as she watched him drive away.

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