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Author's Chapter Notes:
I haven't updated this fic in forever...sorry =( Thanks for all the wonderful reviews!
~*~

Musty bookshops? Definitely not her thing. But outside, Spike had looked so heartfelt, so vulnerable, that she would have had to be a huge jerk to just refuse to go in.

And now she was sort of getting into it. He hadn’t turned it into a big ha-ha-I’m-right-you’re-wrong sort of thing, so she was okay with just hanging out in here, browsing through some musty shelves. In fact, Buffy had found one really interesting 1980’s bodice-ripping pirate romance that looked like it had drool marks on it…

She was investigating a passage that looked particularly well-thumbed when she felt two arms steal around her waist.

Almost against her will she relaxed into them—then stiffened when she felt him pressing against her. “Bookshops make you horny?” she asked, giggling.

“No,” he purred, rubbing a hand up and down her stomach. “Bein’ alone in a small, dark space with a hot little blonde makes me horny.”

Because she, Mensa candidate that she clearly was, had chosen the most remote corner of the shop to do her browsing. Real smart, Summers. “Well, you’re going to have to get over it,” she said primly, “because if you think I’m going to—“

He silenced her by spinning her around, pressing her against a bookshelf, and kissing her.

The second her lips touched his—before that, really, if she was going to be honest with herself—electricity raced through her. She scooted up a bit against his body, wrapping her legs around his waist, feeling the bookshelves dig into her back and not caring in the slightest. All she cared about was his hands moving all over her fervently, arousing feelings in her she’d thought only existed in cheesy romance novels…his lips, so skilled in their teasing kisses that she’d beg for more if he made her…and his hips, dear God, his hips, moving against hers and driving her absolutely insane…

“Spike,” she gasped, pulling away from him—but her hands stayed where they were, fisted in that oddly soft hair, and both pairs of hips kept grinding against one another in that almost obscene manner.

“Somethin’ you were—aaah, fuck—gonna say, luv?”

“What if—ooh!—someone sees?” Her lips returned to his, tongues battling. Really, she didn’t know where all their energy came from…she couldn’t remember ever being quite this desperate before….or at least, since the last time they’d kissed.

“Then they’ll get a show,” he growled, peppering kisses up and down her neck. “Nothin’ in this town we can’t kill ‘f we want to, anyway.”

She moaned in acquiesce, not bothering to answer verbally. She was too busy feeling his incredible lips as they sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and nipped it—and at the same time, his hand moved to her breast, tweaking the nipple he found there.

This was incredible. No, this was beyond incredible. She was so going to kill Giles and Jenny for keeping Spike away from her for so long. After she and Spike were done here…which she hoped didn’t happen for a really, really long time…

“Buffy?”

Spike’s lips froze on hers; his hand stayed on her breast, but to her dismay, he was no longer playing with it. She could almost feel his anger radiating from him when he growled, “What the fuck do you want?”

Buffy slipped out of his embrace when he faced Angel, fury sparking in his eyes. The vampire just raised his hand; a thick volume of what looked to be poetry resided there. “I was just here to get a book.”

“An’ that required disturbing us?” Spike snapped. “Bugger off.”

His eyes stayed unreadable; Buffy shifted nervously. Usually to her, Angel’s eyes were transparent. It was like he channeled all the emotion he refused to show on the rest of his face into them. Now, though, they were almost glassy. “Angel?” she said uncertainly. “Are you—are you okay?”

Spike’s eyes narrowed, and a second later, his voice sounded in her head. What the hell are you up to, Summers? Why do you care about this ponce’s health?

She gasped—well, she couldn’t help it. It wasn’t every day someone decided to start talking to her in her mind! “What—how—“

Spike was apparently just as surprised as she was—his eyes had gone wide and he darted a glance at Angel before saying quickly, “Just answer the girl’s question, Peaches.”

“I’m fine,” Angel said harshly. “Buffy, I need to talk to you about things—Dru and all that. Can you meet me in the graveyard tonight?”

Ordinarily she would have agreed to it without a second thought; what could one repent-ey vampire do to her? But today, for some reason, she was feeling a lot less sure about Angel. “Sure,” she said, smiling perkily. “Spike and I will meet you there.”

His eyes, those oddly glassy, almost malevolent eyes, narrowed for a second before he smiled hollowly and said, “Okay, sure. See you both there.”

Without another word, he walked away, presumably to find a sewer that would lead back to where he lived.

Buffy glanced at Spike; his eyes were on Angel’s back. Ever muscle in his body was tense. “Call me crazy, but did he seem just a little bit off to you?”

“A little bit? He’s never been like that before,” Buffy replied, frowning. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He was acting—“

“Evil?”

Buffy looked up into the implacable blue of Spike’s eyes, surprised. “Angel? No way,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“He’s a vampire, pet. They’re not known for their cuddley goodness.” He winced as soon as the phrase came out of his mouth—bloody hell. ‘m even startin’ to sound like her!

“Yeah, but Angel has a soul.”

“Does that mean he can’t lose it?” Spike asked solemnly.

Buffy looked up at him, surprised. He’s serious, she realized. He really thinks that Angel may have…that he’s evil again. “I—I don’t know,” she stuttered. “He’s—Spike, I don’t think—“

He relaxed a little when he saw her confusion, pulling her back into his arms. “Shh, kitten,” he said, rubbing her arms gently. “’s okay. I’ll go with you tonight, an’ if the ponce is evil again then we’ll deal with it then, a’right?”

She nodded, sniffling. “Sorry. It’s just, I don’t—“

“Want to have to put down a friend like a mad dog?” He smiled crookedly. “I get it.”

She felt a sudden rush of tenderness, an odd feeling considering she and Spike usually spent all their time antagonizing each other. “Thank you,” she whispered, savoring their closeness and putting that odd psychic connection thing out of her head for the time being.

“Sure,” he said, hugging her briefly before releasing her—but not letting go of her hand. “Wanna go home an’ be bums, then?”

She laughed at his description, and they walked out into the sunlight together…neither noticing the two pairs of eyes that followed them as they left.

~*~





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