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Author's Chapter Notes:
Lyrics: "#1 Crush" - Garbage. Thanks to basilio_the_cat for betaing this for me, as well as to everyone that continues to read. The support means a lot. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and I wish everyone a fantastic New Year.
Chapter Fifteen

See your face every place that I walk in
Hear your voice every time I am talking
You will believe in me
And I will never be ignored

I will burn for you
Feel pain for you
I will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart
I'll tear it apart

I will lie for you
I can steal for you
I will crawl on hands and knees until you see
You're just like me
"#1 Crush" - Garbage



Buffy hated that she was turning into that girl. The type of girl that worried about what their guy thought about how she looked, and every other little detail about their life that a guy really shouldn't have any say in what-so-ever. It wasn't cool. But the thought didn't stop her from trying on every outfit in her closet, analyzing Spike's possible reactions, and what it could possibly say about her.


Supposedly - according to the journal entry - he was already pretty much dedicated to her. She didn't have to worry about this stuff. That didn't stop her though. She really wanted him to like her.


Even after the information they had found yesterday.


Buffy had no intention of ever going postal over some guy. She had no intention of ever giving up her life because of a break-up, some accident, or the death of said guy. That wasn't who she was either. She was The Slayer, independent, and girl power all the way.


That wasn't to say she wouldn't cry or mourn the loss, that was natural, but no way would she find the nearest cliff and dive off head first. She wasn't that girl. Buffy was stronger than that. And Spike had better not be thinking that's what would happen.


She couldn't help but worry though. The dreams were what brought them together, what started this whole thing. They still weren't sure what feelings were caused by something they couldn't grasp, and what emotions were still their own. For all she knew, Buffy could only like Spike because of some supernatural force. She could be forced to feel the way that she did, even though that felt like the farthest thing from the truth.


It was confusing.


And because of the confusing thoughts Buffy could act in a way that she wouldn't normally without even knowing it. She could be forced to do something she would never do. She could be convinced to die before she was ready just like that other girl, simply because of connection and feeling that may or may not be her own. She didn't like that idea. Not one bit.


But boy did she hope they were her own. The feeling she got with Spike, well, she never wanted to lose that feeling. It was good. Great. Sometimes too great.


Buffy groaned and threw one of her blouses across the room. No good. None of it was good enough.


"Need any help?"


Buffy froze mid sweep. She had just been about to push all the offending clothes off the bed, so she could fall onto it and wish all her problems away. It had promised to be a good, old fashioned angst fest for the fifteen minutes she had before having to leave for patrol. Leave it to her mother to ruin such a thing for her.


"No."


"Is everything okay?" she asked with concern. "I thought you were just going - um - hunting tonight."


Buffy rolled her eyes. What was this? Twenty questions. "It's patrol. And I am."


"And that requires a new outfit?" God. She had that little smile along with the knowing mother look. The look that clearly said Buffy wasn't going to get out of this room without having some sort of a talk.


Buffy shrugged. No way was she going to volunteer any information to her mother. "Sometimes."


Her mother started to make herself busy by picking up some of the clothes that had landed on the floor. "You've been worrying yourself over that a lot lately." she noted, placing one of the shirts on a hanger.


"I've been playing bait," decided Buffy. It was a reasonable lie if there ever was one. "Demons like girls in a pretty outfit."


With the way she raised her brow, Buffy could tell her mother hadn't bought that story for a minute. Since when had she become so transparent? Oh yeah, when she had told her mother the biggest secret ever and no longer had to sneak out the window just to save the world. "Buffy."


"Yes?"


"Do you have a boyfriend?" she asked with a cheesy grin.


"What? No," insisted Buffy. Spike had been quite clear that no one could find out that she had been seeing anyone. Vampire or otherwise. It would raise suspicions. He had blown a gasket when she told him Willow had found out, she doubted he would like it if her mom was let in on the secret as well. Even if it was his idea to try this whole new honesty thing she had going on with her mother.


He was worried that it would get back to Giles. She couldn't blame him seeing as she was kind of worried too, along with a whole bunch of other emotions that were mostly negative in origin. Giles had lied to her. They had, had this whole honesty thing going on, and she had thought he had seen her as more than just another Slayer. Maybe he did. But that still didn't change the fact that he kept this big secret from her, that he knew at least some of what she was going through and he still hadn't said word. Ignored the whole thing. How could he? Especially when he had seen what happened to that other girl.


What if the same thing had happened to her? Did he even care? It hurt knowing that he could hide such an important thing from her. And then that raised a whole bunch of other questions about what he may or may not be hiding from her. That wasn't good. She had no idea what to believe anymore, at least from him. Not to mention the Council. They obviously had a role, and it probably wasn't good.


She wanted answers. But she couldn't even ask the questions. She promised Spike she wouldn't, he thought it was too dangerous. And she knew it was, but that didn't quench the desire for answers.


"So the smiles and dreamy expressions are just because of the nice weather?"


"Yuh-huh," said Buffy with an enthusiastic nod.


"Buffy . . ."


"It's true, though. I love me some good weather." Well perhaps that was too enthusiastic.


"Have you forgotten I gave birth to you?"


"Ew. Mom. Not that again."


She rolled her eyes. "Tell me about him," she requested. "I promise not to go all mushy on you or whatever else your worried about."


Buffy blushed in spite of herself simply thinking of all the things that she could say about Spike. Not that she could say most of them. That wouldn't be anywhere near appropriate. "You won't tell anyone?"


"A secret?" her mother said excitedly. She made a gesture of sealing her lips. "Not a soul."


Buffy reckoned she just made her mom's day. She had always been on her daughter's back about boys and dating. Buffy guessed that the older woman had somehow gotten it into her head that if she started dating, she would be less likely to get into trouble. It seemed, since meeting Spike, that trouble was brewing just beneath the surface. She felt the impending doom - only increasing when she had read the diary entry - getting closer. The only problem was that she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it simply because that would mean giving up Spike. That wasn't happening.


She hoped that didn't mean she was messed up or something.


The problem with telling her mother though, was not that she didn't want to, but what could she actually say? Spike was a vampire, if she told her mother that, the whole nice relationship that they had just built would go down the drain. Her mother would probably lock her in her room with the intention of never letting her out again. As much as she liked the whole honesty thing she had going on with her mom, Buffy kind of liked Spike more. No offense to her mom, of course.


What to say? What to say?


"He's nice. Sweet." Most of the time. He was a vampire, so Buffy was sure that he was evil at least some of the time. "And he's cute," Buffy added, understating the goodness that was Spike. Cute didn't do him justice, he was hot. Beautiful actually, with those blue eyes and perfect cheekbones. He wouldn't like that term though, not manly enough.


Guys.


Her mother looked at her expectantly. She had that stare that could drag just about anything out of her. She must know that there was some reason Buffy had been so keen on keeping this thing a secret. "Well," started the blonde nervously. "William - that's his name - William, he's a bit older." Half truth. He was way older. Over a hundred years older. But if she told her mom that little fact, she would probably be put in the loony bin or something.


Joyce narrowed her eyes. “How much older?”


“College,” squeaked Buffy, attempting to keep things vague, hopefully she wouldn’t ask for specifics at the moment. Spike could pass for a college guy. Possibly.


She raised an eyebrow, biting her lip as she obviously tried to keep herself from blurting out that Buffy was in no way allowed to date an older guy, let alone one in college. She could just imagine the horrible thoughts floating through her mother’s mind. “And how long have you been dating?”


“Well, he - uh - transferred here a few months ago, but we wrote letters - e-mails actually - for about a year before that,” Buffy explained nervously, attempting to keep her hands still so she wouldn’t look as though she was fidgeting. Okay, that was a lie, but in a way it still paralleled the truth.


Silence fell, and Buffy could tell that her mother was doing some serious thinking. “I think I should meet this boy. Tomorrow night. For dinner.”


Buffy opened her tightly squeezed eyes. No yelling. No deadly serious tones. So far everything was on the good side of things. But then she processed what her mother had actually said, and the panic set in. This would not go over well with Spike, but she knew her mother’s tone booked no room for argument. It was either meet the parents, or white walls for the majority of her very short life. And as good as she was at it, Buffy did not want to spend the rest of her high school years sneaking out of her bedroom window. She had just gotten past that nasty habit.


“Alright,” said Buffy in her best attempt to keep her voice chipper, and not let the worried grimace peak through. Why, oh why did she have to bury herself in another pack of lies. This would never end well.


***

Before going to Spike's crypt Buffy had stopped by Willow's to head her up on the importance of keeping her relationship with Spike quiet. If it hadn't seemed important before, it was now. This way she would at least have some good news for Spike when she stopped by, because he was so going to blow his top when she told him what her mom knew, not to mention the upcoming meeting.


She felt bad though. Willow looked like she got way nervous when she told her. Buffy really shouldn’t have said anything in the first place, keeping this secret was a lot to ask, she supposed. But the red head seemed to understand the importance, which was of the good. She could officially tell Spike that they had nothing to worry about.


That, however, didn't really matter at the moment. How in the world was she supposed to think when he was doing that thing with his tongue? Granted she had started the make out session - or snogging as Spike would call it - but just the same. The whole idea was to soften him up, not turn her into a pile of goo so she couldn’t form a coherent thought. She really needed to focus.


Oh. But the tongue mastery really was not helping.


Focus. She had to keep her mind on the goal, even if what he was doing was making her want to do everything but stop. It would only get harder if she put it off any longer.


“Spike,” she said, although it came out more like a moan and less like an order. “Spike.” Okay that was more like a yelp, but it got his attention. He was looking at her in alarm, his fingers checking her neck making sure there wasn’t any damage.


"What?" His voice was rough with passion and concern.


She grabbed both his hands and held them tight in her lap before attempting to reassure him. He had the whole big bad thing going on, but Buffy was rapidly discovering his softer side. “I’m fine, just need to talk to you.”


He leaned back in, attempting to capture her lips with his again. “Later,” he whispered. And boy did later sound good when she felt his soft lips against hers. Kissing: Her activity of choice. But no. She had to be firm, she needed to focus on the crisis of her mother’s overbearing habits.


“Mom,” she squeaked. That got his attention, he was on the other side of the couch before she could blink.


“There’s a mood breaker,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair; something she wished she was doing at that moment. “What’s got your knickers in a twist now?”


“You have to come to dinner tomorrow night,” Buffy stated rapidly.


“I have to?” he repeated, with a raised brow.


Buffy nodded seriously. “Or it’s off with my head.”


”What’s with the sudden need to brag to the world? Thought you were going to keep your trap shut?"


“I didn’t. And I did. She just knew. It’s like she has this superpower that keys her in when I’m hiding something,” said Buffy dramatically. “It’s freaky.”


“And what exactly are you hiding from her now?” Kay. Now Spike was making with the freakiness, was she the only person that was unable to detect exactly when someone was concealing something from her. “Your guilt shows in your eyes.”


Buffy pouted. “Does not.”


“I think I’m the better judge of that, pet,” he stated. “So what’s the cover story?”


Buffy averted her eyes from his piercing ones. “Well, she knows you’re older.”


“Right, so she thinks I’m a dirty old man,” he mumbled. “Anything else?”


“Well, not so much with you’re a vampire, but she does know we’ve been communicating for over a year. Um, through e-mail.”


“Dirty old man that gets his kicks by stalking helpless girls on the computer. Check.” Well, he didn’t have to make it sound so bad.


“She does not think that,” said Buffy. “Well, probably, she has a tendency to think the worst. But she’s giving you a chance, so you better make the best of it.”


He raised a brow, showing that he was obviously skeptical of this new plan. “You’ll have to be real nice, of course. And you have to act human. You know how to do that right?”


“I’ve had some practice.”


Good. That was good. She would save questions on that interesting revelation for later. “And you’ll have to clean up your look.”


“‘M not wearing a suit.”


Buffy’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought about that. But now that he mentioned it, wardrobe was a very important part of the good first impression process. She was clearly under thinking the importance of this entire thing. They had a lot of work to do. “You have to.”


“No,” replied Spike stubbornly. “There is nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.”


Buffy wrinkled her nose. “You look like some gothic, punk guy, gang member.”


"Gothic, punk guy, gang member?"


"Well, you do," she insisted with a huff.


"I know for a fact you like this look, Goldilocks," he said with a leer.


"Like it or not," said Buffy with what she hoped was indifference. "My mom won't. And you have to make a good impression. It's important."


"So important that you lied to her about me being a vampire and just about everything else?"


"Well, I wanted her to like you, not lock me up," insisted Buffy. "Besides you said not to tell anyone."


“Good point," agreed Spike. "But that wasn't why you did it. I think you underestimate your mum. Should give her more credit.”


Um, no. “Because telling her that I’m dating a vampire that I’ve some sort of mystical connection to would go over real well," stated Buffy, with a roll of her eyes. “Besides you don’t even know her.”


"And I'm not going to get to know her dressed like a ponce."


“You have to.” And then she pouted. Spike could never resist her pout. And sure enough. . .


“I’ll wear blue jeans, and a dress jacket. No tie.”


“Deal,” said Buffy happily, knowing that was probably the best she was going to get. There was one obstacle covered. Now the only thing left to fret over was the event itself. Which only meant one thing for certain. They were officially doomed.





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