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Chapter Four



"So, tell me about Drusilla," Buffy said casually and popped a fry in her mouth, leaning back in the booth of the restaurant they'd decided to stop in at.

Spike swallowed. "Don't waste any time do you?"

She shrugged, "Did I ever? Some things never change."

"I told you already."

"Okay, let me try something else. Why don't you tell me what you would tell mom
when you called?"

"Buffy, no."


"Why not?" she pouted.

"You're adorable," he blurted out. Their eyes met and there was a moment –something
not easily defined, but more FELT. It hung there in between them, and time stood still for a
minute. It was as if someone pressed ‘pause' on a movie. Then, as quickly as it came, someone
pushed ‘play'. Buffy shivered and Spike looked down at his plate, nervously scratching the
back of his head.

"What I told Mum, that's all in the past. Dru is in my past."

Buffy reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "Do you still love her?"

He stared at their joined hands. "Who?"

"Drusilla."

"No. I feel for her, there's a difference."

"Because she was crazy?"

He nodded.

"Mom said she was in an institution."

"That's right, she is. Bloody had to drive her there."

Buffy squeezed his hand. "Spike, I'm so sorry."

Curling his fingers so that their hands were now entwined, he squeezed back.
"What was it? What did it? Or was it something she always had?"

"Something she always had. . . at varying degrees. Got worse as time went on."

"Did you love her very much?"

"I thought I did. I thought I could help her. I think I made her worse."

"How is that possible?"

"Buffy, can we get off this now, please?" he asked and met her eyes.

She nodded, "Yeah, I'm sorry. If you don't . . . you don't have to. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, pet. Just something I left there and don't care to revisit."

"Spike I just want to let you know that you can talk to me if you ever need to."

He gazed at her warmly, "Thank you."

She pulled her hand back and cleared her throat, "So, that was intense. Moving along
now."

He grinned. "Tell me about Doyle."

She broke out in a huge smile. "He's great. The best guy ever."

Spike arched a brow.

"Aside from you of course. Doyle's just . . . He's always got my back. He's affectionate
without trying to cop a feel. He's sweet without the hidden agenda and truly thoughtful."

"Sounds like you almost have a crush on him."

"I did actually. He didn't come right out and say he was gay and he's not
every…effeminate a lot of the time. So when we first started hanging out I did have a crush on
him. I think he figured it out and he let me know then that he was gay. I think he didn't want to
embarrass me in case I ever tried for anything."

"Would you have?"

"Tried for anything?"

Spike nodded.

Buffy shook her head, "No. I'm not good at stuff like that. I had always assumed that
Doyle was just shy like me and that was fine because I was shy too. If he had never initiated
anything, I probably would have been perfectly content to wait for him to."

"You shy? Come on, I have a hard time believing that."

She blushed under his teasing. "I am when it comes to that stuff."

"So you've never--?"

Her eyes widened and she hit him on the arm, "Spike! That is none of your business!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. I just assumed that – You know, I'm just going to stop talking
about that."

"Thank you," she said softly, cheeks blazing. What a mortifying conversation to have
with her brother of all people. She looked up at him meekly.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, kitten?"

"Is it a bad thing?"

"What? Being a –"

"Yeah."

His eyes widened, "God, no. Buffy, no. I think it's –it makes you all the more special."

"And guys love that sort of thing, don't they? Bagging a," her voice lowered, "virgin?"

"If that is how some guy perceives it, then he is not worthy to lick your boots never
mind . . . Buffy, it's a rare thing these days, but there is NOTHING wrong with it. It's
refreshing."

"It is?"

He nodded. "When Mum and Dad were growing up, staying uh, ‘pure' was something
that was just done. They were told to wait until they were married. When Dad gave me the
‘talk', he started it out with the standard ‘when two people love each other' spiel. I waited until
I was in love with someone before I lost mine. I took that to heart. It meant something."

"I always thought you were going at like a rabbit."

Spike chuckled. "No, princess, I wasn't. Being a ‘bad boy' is about the image. As long as you can
talk the talk, you don't always have to walk the walk."

"Faker!"

Spike shrugged, "What can I say? There were some things Dad taught me that I held onto. I j
ust didn't let him know that."

"I can barely stand to talk to half the guys I know—aside from Doyle—so I can't even imagine—ew."

Spike grinned.

"Was . . . was Dru your first?" she asked cautiously, fiddling with her napkin.

"Yes," came his quiet reply.

"Now we're definitely moving on. This conversation has gone from uncomfortable to
creepy and back to uncomfortable."

Spike chuckled, "You're right it has."

"Did you find a job today?"

"I did."

"Care to elaborate?" she prodded.

"Construction. Not exactly the best job ever, but it's money and I'm thinking I'll apply
to University of Sunnydale in the meantime and hopefully get accepted for winter registration.

"Hey! We could drive in together!" Buffy said excitedly.

"That we could, kitten."

She smiled, "Have I told you how happy I am that you're home?"

Spike smiled warmly. "I'm happy too, Buffy."







He couldn't sleep. He stared up at the ceiling feeling anxious. He didn't know what to
do with himself. He could hear Buffy's TV in her room going. Glancing at the clock, he noted it
was midnight. She no doubt fell asleep with it on. She'd been knackered by the time they'd
gotten home from walking practically all of Sunnydale. It was nice to just walk and talk like
that. And at the restaurant when she'd reached him and held his hand. It warmed his heart.
Just to have that contact with her, just a simple hand on him—it meant everything to him.

It was also dangerous.

Spending time with her like that led to thoughts that would no doubt send her running.

It'd sent him running after all, didn't it?

He shook his head and sat up against the headboard. The sheet fell down around his waist and he used the light of the moon trickling in from the window to guide him as he lit up a cigarette.

Expelling the smoke, he wondered what the bloody hell he was doing back here. He could have gone anywhere, but no, he chose to come back home. Back to Buffy. Back to his SISTER. Well, his step sister as he was so quick to point out last night. It didn't make it any less confusing or wrong however knowing there was no blood between them. For Christ's Sake, her Mum was like his Mum…he called her Mum. His Dad was hers . . . He felt dirty. Felt like he was committing incest for even thinking of the Golden Goddess in the next room. How she gazed up at him with trusting eyes. Eyes that spoke of adoration. She didn't know how he felt and he still felt as if he were exploiting her innocence. She couldn't even begin to know what it meant to him to learn she was a virgin still. His whole being had sung at that piece of information. His Golden Girl, his Buffy, his Princess was untouched. When he'd seen the boy on top of her on her bed that afternoon, he'd had to talk himself out of ripping his head off and shoving it up his ass. The thought of Buffy having sex, of being touched . . . Great. Good job. Now you're harder than nails, Spike berated himself. He refusedto release the tension. Refused to touch his betraying member. He wasn't supposed to have these thoughts of Buffy. It was wrong and it was dirty and God . . .

Hadn't he learned when it drove Drusilla insane?





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