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“I’m hungry now,” Buffy announced.

“I’m thinking since you just moved in, you don’t have any food.”

“Want a pizza?”

He grinned, “You gonna make one?”

“Yeah, I’m that good,” she laughed.

He leered at her, eyeing her up and down. “Oh, I bet you are.”

Despite what they’d just done, Buffy found herself blushing. “I’m not a slut, really.”

He blinked, “What?”

“I just don’t…well; I have, but not anymore. You broke my self –inflicted chaste period.”

Rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his hand, he smiled smugly. “I’m glad I could have something to do with that.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, “Oh, I’m sure.”

“Why did you self-inflict yourself with chastity?”

To tell or not to tell, that was the question. Deciding she didn’t want him to think she was a complete tramp, despite how quickly she’d jumped into bed with him, Buffy smiled secretively and shook her head.

“How ‘bout that pizza?” she asked him, crawling out of the bed. Ooh…she was sore in the most delicious way.

“Sure, pet. One condition though.”

She looked over at him over her shoulder. “What’s that?”

“You don’t hide that gorgeous body from me.”

She smiled. “I’m not an exhibitionist, Spike.”

“Nothing wrong with being comfortable in your own skin, pet. I find it sexy when a woman is comfortable in her own nudity.”

She smirked at him, “Good thing I don’t have to worry about impressing you then isn’t it? Seeing as how I already got you in my bed.”

Buffy heard him chuckling as she dug in her open suitcase and found a pair of gray yoga pants and a pink t-shirt. Turning to him, she found him watching her intently as he slipped on his black jeans.

“But, Spike, I thought there was nothing sexier than being comfortable in your nudity.”

“Don’t fancy being the only one naked, pet.”

She grinned knowingly. “Follow me. I have the TV set up if you want to watch something while I order. What do you want on your pizza?”

“I’m easy, anything you want is fine.”

Spike made himself comfortable in her cream colored suede couch, flicked on her flat screen TV and began the typical male channel surfing routine. The not really seeing what was on, but just pausing on it for half a second, as if that smallest increment of time could tell him anything about the program, before moving on.

She studied him as she ordered a large extra cheese pizza with pineapples, and two liters of Coke. He’s so handsome, she thought. Freaking hot, really. Oh, God, I’m going to be a girl about this. . . I don’t want this to be just a one-night thing…Not like I ever wanted any of those one-night things to be one-night things, but I really don’t want this to be a one-night thing. He’s so smart and easy to talk to. Sexy and funny… We could be friends at least…even if having sex just negated that.

“You’ve got a really nice place, pet,” Spike told her when she sat down next to him.

“Thanks. It’s a lot bigger than I thought.” Looking around the room, she perused her spacious apartment. The living room was the biggest part of it and then it went into a small dining room and then the kitchen was just down the hall. She already had ideas for how she wanted to decorate, but God only knew how long that was going to take. The only thing she’d managed to do that day besides make her bed, was separate the boxes into groups of where she had the idea she wanted things to go. Her eyes fell onto the group of at least five large boxes stacked tall in front of the built in bookcase that was quite literally from the bottom to almost the ceiling. Just the way she liked them.

Spike got up and ventured over to where she was eyeing and he put his hand on an opened flap. “May I?”

She nodded and he opened it, peering inside. “Are all five of these books?”

She nodded, “Yep.”

“My God.”

“What did you expect?” she giggled, “I teach British literature.”

He dug his hand in and extracted a book, and then peered inside again. “You have two different copies of Frankenstein.”

“There are two different versions with only minimal differences. If you blinked, you’d miss them.”

“Wow, pet…you’re a real nerd huh?”

She burst out laughing. “Yeah, I am. But you know, you seem to know a lot about literature too, so I wouldn’t be casting stones if I were you.”

He grinned, looking to her suddenly like a little boy.

He came over and sat down next to her once more, pulling her onto his lap in one easy maneuver. She sighed contentedly when he started nibbling on her ear and ran a hand down her arm.

“I’m glad I came out tonight,” he told her huskily.

“I’m glad you did too,” she replied when he palmed a breast, flicking his thumb across her already hardening nipple.

He was trailing kisses down her neck when the doorbell rang. They both groaned and Buffy reluctantly got up from his lap, grinning when she saw him already sporting an erection.

They ate on the floor, Buffy having dug in some boxes for plates and glasses and a dishtowel to use as a napkin when Spike told her he’d cover the pizza. It was cozy and Buffy started imagining him coming over often, even helping her carry furniture up to her apartment.

Maybe I need to slow down, she thought after they’d ate and she was putting the leftovers in the fridge. She leaned against the counter and gave herself a pep talk to not get carried away so fast. They’d had sex, he had made no promises to her, and she had made no promises to him.

God, she was a mess underneath it all, wasn’t she? She really hoped she wasn’t coming off as clingy in any way and drive him from her, and she really, really hoped he wanted to spend the night…

She wanted to be like Faith was now with Robin: Settled in with one man that treated her like a Queen. She was done with all that other crap, it never led to anything worthwhile, only to misery. She had never considered herself to be so untamed, but her past told otherwise. She had been living like the old Faith: wild, promiscuous and getting herself into more drama than she could handle.

She’d partied hard while in California. She’d had one-night stands, flings with guys that had girlfriends – despite how hard she’d tried not to, and more failed relationships than she cared to count. Men, she discovered were liars, and some would stop at nothing to get a piece of ass. And times when she was so fucked up on Ecstasy or alcohol, her better judgment – did she have any then? – went out the window.

Her lifestyle had started to catch up with her though shortly after her first year of work at the college. She wasn’t content with flings anymore, she wanted the real thing. A real relationship. The problem was, she’d made somewhat of a name for herself, so when she told potential boyfriends she wasn’t looking for a fling, they’d fed her lines, told her what she wanted to hear, and then left when they got what they wanted. A few had even put up with a few dates to get to the prize of banging her and then tossed her aside quickly after.

She hated what she’d become and had sunk into a depression. She felt unloved, uncared for and desperate to hold onto anything that could make her feel worthwhile. She felt at the end of her rope and had started seeing a psychologist to figure out where the hell she’d taken such a wrong turn, and how she could get back on the right path.

It was not meant to be.

Her doctor had started out as a great help, and she realized now, looking back, that she had fixated on him as someone that was going to fix her. It hadn’t taken her long to develop a crush on him, and then later, sleep with him.

The kicker: He was a married man.

She’d thought she’d hit rock bottom before, but nothing compared to how she felt after that. That was rock bottom. In an instant, and that was all it took, she’d put a stop to it all. No more partying, no more men, no more alcohol. She was going on the straight and narrow. She applied to BU and had taken it as a sign when she got the job that this was her chance to start life over. Buffy was determined to be the educated woman she was, and to leave that other crap behind her. She would keep her head on straight, and she would put an end to all that craziness. It was just too much for her.

And what better place to start over than the home she’d had to leave, and with the friends that she knew would help her through it all. She hadn’t let them know too much; for she felt ashamed because of it…she didn’t want much of anyone to know. What was the point? She wasn’t that girl anymore.

Except now, she’d had what psychologists and AA members would call a relapse. Spike had to hold some kind of bizarre power. Maybe he cast a spell on her. Perhaps she really was still a wild child, and that all her longing for a real relationship that was more than just sex, but real companionship, was all just a pipedream. Maybe she really wasn’t made for that sort of thing.

The thought brought tears to her eyes. No, she was more than that. She was made for more than just flings. She was meant to have real and true great love. And that’s all she wanted.

Love.

It was what made the world go round wasn’t it? The Beatles said that love was all you needed after all.

“Buffy?”

She looked up to find Spike standing in the doorway. “What’s wrong luv?”

“What? Oh, sorry, I’ve been taking too long to stick a pizza in the fridge huh?” she said, chuckling nervously.

He came over to her, concerned, and wiped at her face, extracting a tear. “What’s this all about?”

You really don’t want to know.

“I guess just …leaving and all caught up with me.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Change is just…it’s hard.”

He sighed heavily. “Don’t I know it,” he muttered knowingly.

“Oh?”

He grinned smoothly. “Story for another time.”

“Another time?”

“Yeah, you’re not giving me the brush off are you? Didn’t fancy you that kind of girl, pet.”

Now she thought she might really cry. “I’m really not.”

“That works out well then.”

They had sex again that night before calling it a night. This time, it was slower, even gentler, Buffy thought. Before it had been a mad rush of need and desire, this time it was as getting attuned to each other’s bodies, learning what turned them on, what made them moan and what made them out of their mind for the other.

Buffy watched him as he fell asleep and all she could think with a smile on her face was: There’s going to be another time. This isn’t it.





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