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~*~

“What d’you mean, she’s not here?” Spike demanded. “She’s always here at this hour.”

Hank smiled at the annoyed man in front of him. “She’s been having to put up with some trouble from her schoolmates, so she took a break. She left with Willow.”

“Oh.” A pause, then: “Think she’s mad at me?” He said it as casually as possible, not wanting to give anything away.

Hank smiled slightly. “Harmony was in here half an hour ago, chattering to her friends about the bruises on Angel’s face.”

“Thank God.” His shoulders slumped in relief. “I thought I’d really blown it.”

“I can see why,” Hank replied. Something in his tone made Spike raise his head and scrutinize the man sharply—but the older man’s face was carefully neutral.

“Right, then,” Spike said, clearing his throat. “Tell ‘er I was here, yeah?”

Hank nodded. “Goodbye, Spike.”

“Bye.” Spike all but ran out of the diner, away from Buffy’s father’s understanding eyes.

Hank shook his head, amused, and went back to wiping down dishes.

Spike had every intention of walking back to his office; Anya might be his friend, but she wouldn’t excuse him being gone half the day. But when he rounded a corner a block away from his office, he damn near collided with Buffy and Willow.

Shit, he cursed inwardly. Usually he avoided Buffy’s friends at all costs, especially the redhead. That girl was too insightful for her own good.

“Spike!” Buffy smiled happily at him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you ‘till later!”

He swallowed, looking down at her face. It was stupid, it was insane, it was inexorable—every time she so much as glanced his way, he fell for her that much more. “I, um, I—“ Bleeding hell. He hadn’t stuttered this much in years. “I came by t’ see how you are. Hank said you weren’t there—“ obviously, you prat—“so I was ‘bout to go back to work.”

“Oh.” Her smile changed, became softer. For a second a look shone out of her eyes, one he’d seldom seen there before. One that made him catch his breath. “Thank you.”

“’s no problem, pet.” He shifted uncomfortably. Bugger. Was it just him, or did things get more uncomfortable between them every day?

“Oh, look at the time!” Willow said suddenly. Both blondes looked at her, as thought just remembering that she was there. “I have to go and—do that thing,” she said, nodding.

“What thing?” Buffy asked curiously. “Willow, this isn’t like that time you fell in love with that 40-year-old from LA calling himself Malcolm, is it? Because—“

“No, no, it’s nothing like that!” Willow beamed innocently. “I just have this—this thing, that I have to do. So bye!”

Before either Spike or Buffy could say another word, Willow had tossed her cone in the trash and scurried off.

“Odd little bird,” Spike remarked, trying to hide his relief.

“That’s Willow,” Buffy said, grinning and raising her cone to her mouth. Her little pink tongue darted out, scooping a dallop of ice cream off the top before sliding down, down, sucking the whole top scoop into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed briefly as she sucked on the cone, and then puffed out when she slid it back out of her mouth, the ice cream on top greatly diminished.

Spike had never been so glad his suit pants were reasonably loose, because he’d gone from semi-hard to painfully so in the few seconds it had taken her to pull that little stunt.

She swallowed the ice cream and grinned at him, apparently oblivious to how aroused she’d just made him. “Chocolate ice cream is heavenly. Best thing on the face of the planet.”

“Luckiest, maybe,” Spike blurted out before he could stop himself. The second the words left his mouth he was horrified. Way to let her know you’re standing there fantasizing about her mouth doing that to your dick, you sodding prick!

Buffy, however, just wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re really weird, you know that?”

She didn’t realize what he meant. But then, how could she? It was sick—he was sick. She wasn’t like him…she didn’t live a lie, a sin, every day of her life. “Sorry, pet. Moment of poetic idiocy.”

“You have a lot of those.” Her grin turned mischievous. “Like when you told Angel I was your girl, for example.”

He groaned at her teasing. She meant it all in fun, but God, she had no idea how much it hurt him that what he’d said wasn’t true. “You’re a bloody irritating bint sometimes, you know that?”

She pouted at him. “So you don’t love me?”

His throat constricted. It was oddest feeling he’d ever had—as though his throat had actually grown smaller. He’d answered this question a thousand times before, but as the days passed, as his love for her grew stronger, so did his impulse to tell her the truth.

Thankfully, he had some self-control. “You know I do, sweets.”

She grinned happily, tossing the cone into a nearby trash can. “And I love you. You’re the best older guy friend a girl could ask for,” she teased, pulling up the sleeve of her jacket to look at her watch. “Ah, crap, I’ve been gone for more than a half hour…see you later?”

A year ago he would’ve offered to walk her to the diner, but now? Now it was all he could manage not to run away from her right then and there. That, or grab her and kiss her in the middle of the sidewalk. “Uh, yeah,” he said, realizing that she was looking at him expectantly. “’ll be by at lunch.”

“’k. See you!” A last smile, a quick hug, and then she was scurrying off.

~*~

Best thing on the face of the planet…luckiest, maybe.

Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her bed. Why, why, why did Spike say things like that sometimes? She knew he didn’t mean them to sound the way they did. He, after all, didn’t spend the majority of his time around pervy high school boys who could twist “I went to see my Great-aunt Mabel” into an innuendo.

But still…that little comment had thrown her for a loop. Before then, she’d just been licking the ice cream, same as she always did. After it, she was scared to eat another bite, because every time she licked it, images of giving her best friend a blowjob popped into her head.

And that was just wrong.

She could almost hear what Spike would say if he knew what she’d been thinking about. You are one sick puppy, Summers, he’d say, laughing. He would think it was a joke.

Buffy sighed, keeping her eyes screwed shut. She was absolutely determined to get to sleep—she had an early shift at the diner, and if she didn’t get some rest, she’d be liable to dump coffee on some slumming corporate bigwig, or something equally humiliating.

She’d actually done it before…

”What the hell are you playing at, letting a child work in your restaurant?” Clyde Daniels, CEO of Daniels Enterprises, was having a field day running down Hank Summers. Not that anyone in the diner really blamed him; his daughter had just dumped and entire pot of coffee on the eminent businessman.

“For one thing, this child is thirteen.” Hank was perfectly calm. “For another thing, it’s a diner, not a restaurant. You should be aware that in establishments that don’t boast four starts, accidents happen.”

Daniels narrowed his eyes. “Are you talking back to me, prick?”

Buffy watched, rapt, as her father laughed. “You’re an idiot, Daniels. Get out.”

“Not until I get a refund and payment for this suit!”

Buffy’s eyes widened when Mr. Gunn appeared behind her dad. The only other time she’d seen Gunn actually come out of the back room to deal with a customer, it had been the time that weird guy Ted got drunk and started throwing glasses at the wall.

“This is my property,” her father said coldly. “Now get out or Gunn will throw you out.”

Daniels gave the other man one last venomous look before whirling around—and stalking straight up to Buffy. “You nasty, stupid little brat,” he snarled. “Getting knocked up and stuck at this diner for the rest of your life wouldn’t be good enough for white trash like you.”

For a second, Buffy stared at him. She was old enough to know that this guy was important, and smart enough to know that he was really, really mad at her. “I—I’m sorry, sir,” she stuttered, fighting to remember the manners her dad had drilled into her before he let her work at the restaurant.

“I ought to make you sorrier,” Daniels snarled.

Buffy darted a quick look over at her dad. He and Gunn were watching her concernedly, but so far they hadn’t come over to interfere, which Buffy was glad of. She knew it would look really bad for her dad’s business if he threw a CEO out in the streets…even if he was a jerkface. “Sir, I really think you should leave now,” she said seriously.

As it turned out, Daniels took her advice. That would have made Buffy happy, if he hadn’t spit on her first.

As soon as he did, Hank and Gunn rushed over—but it was too late. Daniels had already left the restaurant.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Hank said, kneeling down. “Are you okay?”

She wiped the glob of spittle from her cheek. “That was disgusting!”

“It was disgusting and wrong,” Hank said bitterly, “And if I could I’d have the bastard arrested.”

“Why can’t you, Dad?”

Hank sighed. “Mr. Daniels is a very important man, Buffy. He has all the police in his pockets.”

“Like a mob guy?”

Her father suppressed a smile. “Yes,” he said, “Like a mob guy.”

It hadn’t been so awful, really. Just unpleasant, and like she’d said then, disgusting. What made it stand out in her mind was what happened afterwards.

She’d reported the incident to Spike. He’d gotten seriously pissed—which made sense, because even though her 13-year-old self didn’t understand what spitting on somebody meant, he sure as hell did.

As soon as she’d finished with her story, he’d left the diner. Two days later Buffy had heard about how the CEO of Daniels Enterprises had left town in disgrace, his face supposedly looking like raw meat. She’d known immediately who had done it, though she’d never talked to Spike about it.

Buffy sighed, feeling herself drift further into sleep. He was always so good to her…

It was daytime, and she and Spike were up in her room. He’d been allowed up there since she was about fifteen and her parents had finally decided that they trusted the two of them. It helped that now that Buffy was growing up, they were on a more even footing.

She was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Spike was sitting in the chair next to the bed. “It wasn’t that bad, kitten,” he said, watching her as she pouted at the ceiling.

“Are you kidding? It was horrible. Terrible. I completely flubbed it.”

Spike shrugged. “Everyone screws up class presentations sometimes, kitten.”

“I probably failed.” Now she didn’t sound angry, just sad.

“Buffy.” He put his hand on her wrist. Something in his voice made her turn and look at him.

As soon as she saw him, she caught her breath. His face…his eyes, bluer than blue, his sharp cheekbones, those lips that she’d never really noticed before but where now only inches from hers…

He was beautiful.

And he was talking to her. “It’s not your fault, luv. Teach didn’t tell you everything.”

She smiled a little. She knew that whatever was affecting her wasn’t doing the same to him. “Thanks,” she whispered.

They were friends…he was only up here with the door closed because her parents trusted her…and yet, as she licked her lips, all she could think about was kissing him.

The thought followed the deed. One second they were best friends, caught in a whirl of emotions they didn’t understand. The next second, she’d launched herself forward, tangling her lips with his…and he was kissing her back.

It had been she who initiated the kiss, and she got the feeling that if she hadn’t kissed him, he would have put distance between them. But now that she’d committed herself, he’d taken over the kiss with vigor. Buffy found herself fighting to keep up, her lips clashing with his, her tongue racing inside his mouth…her hips thrusting up against his as he lowered himself on top of her.

God, it was incredible. That was all Buffy could think. With Angel there had been lust, a certain urgency, when they made out, but this transcended anything she’d experienced before. It was like fireworks going off, not just behind her eyes, but in her heart. Every rub of skin against skin, every touch of his mouth to hers, was pure, utter perfection.

But it wasn’t enough. She reached down and tugged off his shirt, feeling her own get pulled up and then off. Her bra was soon gone too, and then they were skin to skin—and it was wonderful.

Buffy threw her head back, gasping, as his mouth left hers, traveling down her neck. He was muttering thing, incomprehensible things, but she knew they had to do with her, and they made the fire burning in her that much hotter. When his lips encircled her nipple, she thought she was going to die, it felt so amazing.

Then his fingers found the waistband of her shorts and dove in…and she had no more thoughts.

She thought she’d been burning before—it was like a match compared to a bonfire. Every touch of his lips to hers corresponded with a touch to some part of her between her legs. His tongue plunged into her in tandem with his fingers below, drawing more and more wetness out, coating his fingers with it, streaming onto the sheet below—and still she burned.

Buffy tore herself away from his lips. “Please, Spike,” she gasped, arching her back as still another wave of pleasure rolled through her. “I need—I need—“

“Say it, kitten,” he murmured, curling his fingers almost cruelly inside her, causing her to almost sob with frustration.

“I need it. I need to—please, Spike. I want—“

“What?”

“You.”

She didn’t think it was the answer he was expecting—but by then, she didn’t care. A strangely intense look stole over his face, and he bent down and kissed her deeply, almost savagely. For a moment everything seemed clear, perfect—

And then he plunged three fingers into her, pressing his thumb hard against her clit as he did…suddenly, all the fires exploded and she was spiraling, spiraling, into bottomless blackness.

Buffy woke with a gasp. Sweat was beading her brow, her whole body was alert—and unless she was very much mistaken, she’d just had an orgasm in her sleep. Thinking about Spike, about doing things with Spike. Her best friend.

Her 26-year-old best friend.

She slumped down into the pillows, a kind of muted panic taking over. Oh, shit.

~*~

A/N: *points* Hey—see that? It’s getting a plot. Slowly, but it’s definitely coming ;) Also, I'd like to say a huge THANK YOU to all the incredible people who have left me reviews--you guys are wonderful! And just so that you know I’m not above begging…I’m a review whore. Please, please review this chapter and let me know what you think! I'm a little nervous about it, as usual when I write sex scenes...Thanks =D





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