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~*~

Had the beach always been this…sandy? She had sand in her hair, down her bathing suit—

Granted, that was probably because she was lying down with Spike on top of her. And they were kissing. Generally, those two things didn’t make for a whole lot of cleanliness.

When they came up for air, Buffy grinned wryly at him and sat up. “So, was this your plan for a happy day at the beach?” she asked, pulling the bikini top ever so slightly away from her body and watching the sand fall out.

Not surprisingly, Spike’s eyes were riveted to the part of her anatomy that she was so close to revealing. “Somethin’ like this, yeah.”

Buffy had to fight not to giggle. He could be so cute, it was almost ridiculous. “Having fun?”

His eyes met hers and he smiled sheepishly. “Dunno what’s wrong with me. You turn me back into a bloody teenager ‘thout even trying.”

“Oh, so that’s a bad thing?” she asked with a little pout.

Now his gaze rested on her lip. “Define ‘bad’,” he said, moving towards her.

She launched herself away from him with a squeal. “Nu-uh! Sandy Buffy is definitely not sexy.” She glanced at the ocean, and a sly idea grew in her mind. “In fact, I think I’m gonna go wash off.”

Predictably, Spike followed her. Had anyone happened to come across that secluded little bit of shoreline, she would have heard laughing, screaming, and contented sighing; and she might have concluded that the couple there was in love.

“Well, duh,” Harmony said, her nasal voice so loud that Angel winced. “What did you think, that they were just together so he could screw her? Puh-leeze.”

“You’re trying to tell me she’s not a slut?” Angel snapped, his hands balling into fists. “That little bitch would fuck anything that moved!”

“Shh,” Harmony cooed, sliding her hand up and down his arm. “I know how it is, baby. Just don’t get all worked up, ok? Not over your ex and her stupid old-guy boyfriend. It’s, like, totally not worth it!”

By the end of Harmony’s not-so-soothing speech, Angel was relaxing beneath Harmony’s stroking. They started back towards the car. “I know, Harm. But the bitch is going down, one way or another.”

Harmony gave him a brilliant smile as they climbed into the car. “Oh, totally!”

Angel’s weary groan was lost beneath the car’s rumbling as he turned the key in the ignition.

~*~

The summer days passed sluggishly. Buffy and Faith patched it up, the way they always did; but Buffy was careful not to mention Spike around the brunette again. Call her crazy, but she kinda liked all her internal organs where they were.

Instead, she spent less time with Faith, and more time with Spike. She knew that they both questioned their own and each others’ sanity many times over, just as she knew that each time they questioned it, they came to the conclusion that they were doing the only thing that could be done.

It was now five days before Buffy’s seventeenth birthday. She and Spike had gone to his apartment; since it wasn’t the first time she had been there, neither of them felt any qualms in going. They had spent several hours just joking around at Buffy’s house, but after Joyce had given them lunch, Spike had suggested they go out.

If Joyce thought the amount of time they were spending together on weekends was odd, she didn’t comment.

Buffy had kind of expected them to start making out. They’d done it often enough the past few days, and while it inevitably left them both wondering if they could make a break for England without her parents calling the cops on Spike, she knew that he enjoyed it every bit as much as she did. She also knew that one of these days, one of them would decide that making out wasn’t enough, and they’d start to push the envelope known as “statutory rape”.

But much to her surprise—and maybe Spike’s, too—they didn’t end up pawing at each other the second they entered his apartment. Instead, as though by mutual agreement, they walked over to the couch and curled up on it, not even turning the TV on.

Buffy broke the silence first. “This is nice,” she remarked, curling closer to Spike and resting her head on his chest. “I mean, not that I mind talking or getting all hot and bothered, but—I like this.”

She felt his chest rumble, a laugh that never made it to the surface. “Know what you mean. Used to wish you’d come here. You did, ‘f course, but….”

“We weren’t much with the cuddling,” she finished for him. “I know. Although, I would’ve come more often if you redecorated.”

“’ey! I happen to like m’ décor, thank you,” Spike said in mock offence.

“Oh, please.” Even though he couldn’t see her, Buffy rolled her eyes. “Let’s see—red couch, black walls, white carpet, and a bunch of black guy toys all over the place.” That meant his TV, stereo system, and computer cabinet thingy—not to mention the towering ebony bookcases. “Yeah, you’re a real master when it comes to interior decorating.”

“Well, ‘m a man, after all,” he pointed out. “Not like I can go all Martha Stewart on the place.”

“Humph,” Buffy said disapprovingly. “If I ever get my hands on this place, I’m gonna—“

“Ah-ah,” Spike teased, running his hand down her hair and tweaking her nose playfully. “You don’t live here.”

“But I’ve seen your office at work,” she whined. “It’s nowhere near this yicky. Didn’t you tell me you haven’t redecorated in here since you were, like, twenty?”

Being as close as she was to him, she felt him stiffen. She looked up to see him frowning. “Yeah. Well, wasn’t me who did it.”

Suddenly she understood: Drusilla. A topic that was definitely not of the good. “Oh. Right.”

Silence for a minute. But Buffy couldn’t help it; she desperately wanted to know the answer to a question she’d always wondered, but had never felt she had a right to ask before. “Why do you keep it?” she asked, waving a hand at the odd colorations around them. “I mean, if she was all with the freaky, and clearly tacky, taste, why not just hire someone to rip it apart?”

“I would’ve thought that was obvious,” Spike said. His voice sounded light, but Buffy knew him well enough to know that if he had his druthers, he wouldn’t be telling her this.

“Well, I must be Special Needs Buffy,” she replied with the same feigned lightness, “Because I’m not getting it.”

He looked down suddenly; his eyes, a crystalline blue that bordered on grey, met hers solemnly. “Because the only girl who’d wormed her way far enough into my heart to be able to talk me into redecorating didn’t even know she’d done it.”

Oh. She felt her cheeks flaming. “I, uh—“

Now he looked amused. She was glad he wasn’t all with the soap opera-ey-ness anymore, but she really could have done without the amusement at her expense. “C’mon, Goldilocks. ‘ve already told you that I’m mad for you.”

“Yeah, but—redecorating?” Oh, great. Now she was squeaking. Buffy the mouse, that would be her. “That’s, like…couple-ey stuff.”

“So?”

Buffy sighed; one of the pitfalls of having a boyfriend a decade older than you was that he really wasn’t all that caught up when it came to cultural references. “Let me rephrase that. It’s not just I-love-you girlfriend-ly stuff. It’s…fiancé stuff.” Like Dru was.

He pulled her up so that they sat side by side. “Would that really be such a bad thing, if you were?” he demanded, his face betraying what the question cost him. “’f you were as important to me as I‘ve been sayin’ you are? I’m not that terrible, am I?”

“No!” She reached out now, catching his face in her hands and bringing his lips to hers. “You’re not terrible,” she whispered, kissing him softly. “I love you. You know that. It’s just…I’m sixteen, remember?” She smiled awkwardly at him.

He groaned, burying his face in her neck. “I remember,” he said hoarsely, rocking her back and forth. “’s impossible for me to forget, kitten.”

Maybe coming from someone else it would’ve sounded sick, but she knew what he meant. “I know,” she said as soothingly as she could. “Just give it awhile. Sixteen’ll turn into seventeen, and then before you know it I’ll be legal.” She shuddered at the idea. Even sitting here with him, she felt a small amount of fear; she knew, inside, that if they were caught like this, then Spike would be dragged to court. The suit might not go through, not without her parents pushing it; but who was to say they wouldn’t.

The whole situation, in a word, sucked.

But it could have been worse, Buffy reminded herself. Hell, it could’ve been a lot worse. She was sitting on her boyfriend’s couch, and they were cuddled up with the familiarity of a married couple…it got a lot worse than this.

She sighed and moved closer to him. “So…my birthday’s in a few days.”

“And?”

“Well, Mom and Dad have this thing at the gallery, so we’re doing the whole dinner thing the night before, and I was thinking…do you maybe want to come over?” At his look she added hastily, “Not that I think we’re going to do anything, you know, bad, but…we could cuddle, watch a movie, maybe have birthday smooches…” she trailed off with what she knew was a ridiculously hopeful look on her face.

He tilted his head and dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. “Like this, you mean?”

“Mmm.” She arched into him, wanting to feel more of the incredible, electric sensations that his closeness instigated. “I kinda love you, did you know?”

He laughed, the rumbling making both their bodies vibrate. “Yeah, kitten. I know.”

~*~

A/N: The stage is set. The pieces have been laid. Let the games begin.

Sorry, I’ve been watching too much Lord of the Rings ;) My point is, this is where the story picks up momentum and goes headlong into the plot…I wanted to include more beachy fun, but it just wasn’t writing itself. I’ll try to work in a beach scene later, because dangit, I wanted one…thank you for all the support I’ve been getting for this story! Please keep it up =)





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