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Chapter 4

It was a short drive back to Buffy's house. As she negotiated the corner of the road where she lived. She caught the look of mild surprise that crossed Spike's face.

"This isn't the way, Buffy, I said left back there."

"I know," she said, as casually as she could manage. "The shop was out of butterfly bandages, but I've got some at home. You don't mind if we fetch them do you?"

"So, you're adding kidnapping to your crimes now?" The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he was trying to stop himself smiling.

Buffy felt herself reddening. She had practically kidnapped him, but he needed looking after -right? And she was saving him money, she rationalised. Which was a good thing wasn't it? She pulled up into her driveway and waited for the garage door to open. "Look, you don't have to get out of the car." She could see he was tired. I'll only be a moment."

"Relax Buffy, I don't mind." He sighed wearily. "Look, I'm sorry I shouted at you back there. Just get the job done. Don't mind where."

"So," she opened the car door, " You're coming in then?"

He nodded and reached for his door handle.

She felt a little twinge of apprehension as she punched in the code on the keypad entry. Why was she suddenly so nervous? She'd been alone with a man before. She jumped as Spike came up behind her. Could she really have taken her stockings off in front of him, the way she'd imagined. Would he have been shocked? And had he seen her do her little dance in the club? She stepped into the house and tried to quell the flock of butterflies that were gradually taking up residence in her stomach. Maybe she should have bought the bandages after all?

"Nice place."

"Yes, it's umm, convenient." God, he was good looking.

He followed her into the kitchen and looked around. "But not what you're used to, right?"

"Not exactly." She started to take off her jacket, but remembered what she had on underneath, and pulled it closed again. "But it's very nice. It's only got two bathrooms but..." He was looking ready to drop. She really needed to get the job done and let him go home. "I should stop talking now and fix you up. Go through Spikes," she pointed to the lounge. "I'll just get the stuff." As she climbed the stairs to the bathroom she tried to make a mental list of the things she was going to need from the medicine cabinet, but all she could think about were stockings.


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It was like something out of Homes and Gardens. Well, at least, he imagined it was. He didn't exactly read those sort of magazines. White leather sofas, glass topped tables, pretentious vases containing real flowers. He wondered idly if a boyfriend had sent them. A girl like her would have no shortage of admirers. And not just because she was stunning- looking. He was studying a silver-framed photo of a man and a young girl when Buffy came in carrying the medical supplies and a bowl of water. She put them down on the end table and walked over to look at it with him. "It's me and daddy. At the house on the Cape." A look of sadness flickered over her features. "That's the year mom died."

He put the photo down again. "Yeah, my mum's gone too. Leaves a hole doesn't it?"

They stood in silent contemplation for a moment and then he said, "Okay, where do you want me?"


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Well, naked and in her bed would do for starters. Christ. Had she said that out loud? His expression hadn't changed, so obviously not. She took a calming breath and indicated towards the sofa. "Let's just get your coat off and sit you down, shall we?" She stepped forward to help him, taking the lapels and pulling it down over his shoulders, hoping he didn't notice how much her hands were shaking. He twisted a little to help her and changed the hand holding the tissues to his head as she slid it away. A little tingle ran through her fingers as they brushed across his shoulders and trailed down his forearm. He wasn't hugely muscled like Angellus but she could feel the power contained by the tight, black t-shirt And that little touch was all it took for the temperature in the room to suddenly soar.

Their eyes met and held for a moment. Green into blue. 'Make a move Spikes,' she thought, 'I'm new at this, and I don't know what to do.' But he just stood there, watching her hand intently where it rested on his arm. Then he muttered a thank-you and flopped onto the couch. It made an extremely rude noise, as leather sofas are prone to do, and that started them both laughing.

Buffy felt the tension flow out of her and she realised how tired she was too. It had been a hell of an evening. She'd come close to making a complete fool of herself, nearly been attacked, and almost crashed the car. Together with the shock of seeing Spike hurt, she realised that she was running on pure instinct. Maybe that's all this attraction was. Two people thrown together by a traumatic experience. She was feeling vulnerable, and he was an extremely desirable male. And he was here, in her house. Not the basis for making one of the most important decisions of her life. She'd always thought she'd know when the time came. There'd be roses, and moonlight and no doubt whatsoever that it was the right thing to do. Instead, she found herself wanting and doubting at the same time. She was here for a year. It seemed a long time, but she knew it would fly by. Before she knew it, she would be on a plane back to the States and her time in England would be just distant memories. She picked up the washcloth and wrung it out. But would they be mingled with regret?


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Spike leaned forward as Buffy worked at cleaning the cut. It wasn't a very comfortable position. He twisted, and then she couldn't reach him, so she stood up and bent down to him. That gave him a wonderful view of her breasts straining at the laces of the top, where her jacket gaped open, which, in turn made him start to get very uncomfortable in the pants department. He turned his head so he couldn't see them and she turned with him, practically shoving them in his face. The cut-cleaning hurt like the blazes, but he was in heaven and hell at the same time. Now she had one knee between his thighs, dangerously close to the source of his discomfort, and was virtually straddling his leg as she fixed the butterfly bandages in place. He squirmed again, scooting back into the couch, trying not to breath in her subtle perfume. Trying not notice the way she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated. Trying not to enjoy the silky caress of her hair as it swept across his neck every time she leaned towards him, or the feel of her hand as she gripped his shoulder to steady herself. And definitely taking no notice whatsoever of the way her skirt rode up her thighs as she bent her leg, showing a glimpse of stocking top. He remembered the comment he'd made in the car about her taking them off and his heart started a slow, heavy thudding in his chest. He wanted her with every fibre of his being. And he knew he could never have her.

For the first time since the fight, he thought of Xander and Dru.

"I'm sorry, am I hurting you?" She turned her soft green-eyed gaze on him and it was so full of concern that he nearly melted there and then. "It's just that this is such an awkward position. Perhaps if you lay down?"

That had given him a visual he could have done without. Him on his back, with her astride him, her hair brushing over his face. He swallowed hard as her knee slid in further. "Uh, Buffy. Do you think you could..." He pointed to her knee. "I need to..."

'Put some distance between us before I do something I'm going to regret,' he thought. He tried thinking of Dru, all long black hair and dangerously, dark eyes. Her wicked , red lips. But all he could see was golden hair, eyes that shone with a disarming innocence and pink, pearly lips that were begging to be kissed. Everything that was rational told him to step away from her and leave now. But he wasn't listening. He placed his hands around her waist and hitched her up, so that she was sitting on his lap properly. She let out a small gasp of surprise and their eyes locked once again.

"There," he said in a low husky voice. "Now at least one of us is comfy." And that picture of Dru still wouldn't come.


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"Oh." Two spots of rosy colour stained Buffy's cheeks as she realised where her knee had been nestling so comfortably. She still had her arm on his shoulder, and his had somehow slipped around her back, the other one resting almost possessively across her thighs. She was suddenly intensively aware of him on so many levels it made her dizzy. The faint smell of tobacco and leather, and something else, fundamental and earthy. The way his bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top one. The unspoken question in his eyes, and that hand, firm and warm. She wanted him to slide it higher, burning her flesh as it swept towards the point of no return. She wanted him to take the stockings off her, one by one, slowly kissing her skin as he revealed it. This was that earth-stopping moment that they talked about in romantic novels, when time itself seemed to stand still and nothing mattered but the two of them. Buffy made her decision. There was no more doubt in her mind that this was what she wanted. He was what she wanted. His head make the tiniest move towards her, and her heart turned over with anticipation.

And then his phone rang.

Spike jumped so hard, he nearly dropped Buffy on the floor. She managed to grab him around the neck, slithering down his body as he stood up, and they sprang apart like two guilty schoolkids caught stealing cookies. Jesus Christ. He had a hard on that was threatening to bust his jeans and he'd just been about to kiss her. And it wouldn't have stopped there. He fumbled in his coat pocket for his phone and jabbed the talk button. What the hell was he playing at? He was in love with Dru. Xander was his best friend. And he was one major, sodding, wanker for even thinking the thoughts he'd been having tonight. He was aware of Buffy hurrying out of the room with the medical supplies as Xander's voice cut into his thoughts.

Buffy leaned on the kitchen counter as she fought to control her raging emotions. Damned phone! He'd been going to kiss her. She knew it. And she'd never wanted anything so much. She pressed her hands to her face in an effort to cool her hot cheeks. She was caught in a confusing whirl of emotions, still trapped in the erotic haze into which they'd slowly but surely been drawn. She needed to get back in there fast. Before he cooled down. She'd felt the fire in him and it had burned her too. 'Seize the moment , girl,' she commanded herself, and shakily she began to slip the jacket from her shoulders. She pulled at the laces of the leather top to loosen them, just a little, then she opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of wine. She found two glasses and a corkscrew, then she padded back to the lounge. If she didn't make a move now she would regret it, so it was now or never. At the door, she stopped. He was still on the phone. Maybe it was his girlfriend? Her heart sank a little as the thought crossed her mind for the first time that evening. Of course a guy like him wouldn't have a problem attracting women. She'd seen how popular his seminar had been, and the mostly female students weren't only being drawn by Byron's charms!

"No, Xan, I haven't asked her yet."

She started to open the door but he was still talking and she couldn't help overhearing. She stood stock still, bottle and glasses in hand, as he continued.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna do it. You wouldn't believe what happened. I'm just worried she'll say no."

He was going to ask her out. She leaned closer to the door, her heart soaring. Had she heard him right? Silly man, she wasn't going to say no.

He was still talking. "Yeah, had a skinful tonight. I'm off the booze too."

Buffy looked at the wine bottle. Then she opened the coat-cupboard and stuffed it inside, along with the glasses. He didn't want to drink, that was okay.

"Got a lecture in the morning, the prof'l freak. Look, I'll do it, right. Then I'm going home before I drop."

Buffy looked down at the leather top. Now wasn't the time. But there would be others. Better to let him make the first move. The important thing was that he was going to ask her for a date. She wanted to run around the kitchen punching the air and shouting yes, then she heard him coming towards the door. There was a moment of panic as she realised that her jacket was on the kitchen floor, and she wasn't going to get to it in time, so she jumped into the coat-cupboard and grabbed the first thing that came to hand.

"Buffy." She heard him walk to the kitchen, then come out again. "Buffy?" He stopped right outside the coat -cupboard door.

Buffy held her breath. Anyway she played this it was going to look majorly weird. What possible excuse could she have for being inside a closet? 'Oh, by he way I was listening in on your conversation, and I had to hide in here because I heard you coming?' Well, that wasn't an excuse as much as a reason. "Way to go girl. the man of your dreams is waiting to ask you out and you're hiding in the coats. Nice one," she muttered to herself. And then she stepped back and lost her footing. She grabbed at the rack of coats and pitched over backwards in a clattering of coat-hangers. As the door slowly opened, Buffy lay in the mess of coats and hangers, wearing a full length fake-fur coat and wished for the second time that night that the earth would swallow her up.


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Spike managed to keep his composure remarkably well. He was, in fact, rapidly reaching the stage where nothing she did surprised him any more. There was probably a perfectly logical explanation for her being inside a cupboard, but he couldn't for the life of him think of one. And why was she wearing a fur coat? Not that she didn't look good in it. In fact it was downright erotic, and the way things had been going tonight... He squashed the thought flat. 'You can't go there mate,' he reminded himself, 'and Xander is bloody well going to owe me big-time for this one.' "Ahh, there you are," he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He hauled her out of the pile of coats and set her on her feet. "Buffy, I need to ask you something."


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She wouldn't have pegged him as shy. He'd suddenly gone all hesitant on her. Couldn't get the words out. She stood as nonchalantly as she could, given what she was wearing, not wanting to break the spell of this wonderful moment. The minute he was gone she just had to phone Willow. Then they'd have to find someone for her and they could have double dates and it would be perfect.

"So, what would you say if I told you I had this friend."

He stopped again, as if he was choosing his words very carefully. She nodded in encouragement. Maybe he wasn't quite the Romeo she'd thought he was. He seemed to be finding this very hard.

"This friend, right. He thinks you're umm, nice and was wondering if you'd, er, go on a date with him." The last few words came out in a rush.

Buffy felt a lump forming in her throat. This was so sweet. She hugged her fur coat around herself. "This- friend, is he afraid I'll say no?"

Spike let out a small, humourless laugh. "Something like that, and with him being a big coward and all that. What would you say Buffy?"

"I think I'd say yes. "She wanted to do the Snoopy dance around the kitchen. "And Spikes, tell your friend, not to worry. It's okay, really it is."

Spike didn't look as happy as she thought he'd be. She'd never been out with an Englishman before. She knew the English tended to be more reserved than Americans so perhaps this was how it was over here? Anyhow, she didn't care. He'd asked her out and she was ecstatic.

"Tomorrow?" He really looked glum now. Surely he hadn't been that nervous? "About eight?"

"That would be great." She noticed he was wearing his coat. "Spikes, let me drive you home."

"No, no." He lifted his hands. "Better if I just walk. More chance of living to see another day that way."

"So, my driving was that bad, eh?" It was only friendly banter but what he'd said was true. "Perhaps you could give me a few lessons?" she said hopefully.

He put one hand on the front door handle. "I don't think I'd be the best person to do that Buffy. And the name's Spike. There's only one of me."

"Ah. But it's not your real name, right?" She didn't want him to go. A few moments ago they'd almost made love and now he looked like he couldn't wait to get out of the house.

"No, it's a nickname, my sister gave it to me and it kind of stuck."

He stepped out into the damp, October night and they stood in awkward silence.

"Well..."

"What's.."

They both started talking at once. Buffy shook her head. "No, you go first."

"I just wanted to thank you for patching me up." He touched his head lightly where she'd put the bandages. "You'd make a hell of a nurse. When you weren't giving your patients near coronaries that is."

"Oh, my driving. I'm so sorry about that. Maybe I should get some English driving lessons."

He shook his head. "I wasn't talking about the driving. What were you going to say?"

"Oh, what's your real name?"

Spike turned, and walked down the path with a backward wave of his hand. "Now that would be telling. Goodnight Buffy-from-America. Don't forget tomorrow night."

She waved back. As if she would. And what was with the name? Was it some embarrassing family name? She watched him until he was out of sight. From his earlier directions she knew that he only lived a few blocks away, but still, he should have let her take him home, stubborn man. She closed and locked the door, feeling sorely in need of some beauty sleep.


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Spike opened the door to his basement flat. It was very basic, just a couple of rooms, but it had double doors that opened onto a little private patio and it suited him just fine. He threw off his clothes and crawled into his bed. Tomorrow he needed to ring Xander and tell him the good news, then he had to find out what Dru was up to. He didn't relish either task, and he was still aching down below from his incredibly erotic encounter with Buffy. Tonight could have ended so differently. He was one hell of a noble wanker and Xander really did owe him big-time for this one.


tbc





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