A/N: I really enjoyed your comments on the last chapter, especially the ones that were about Oliver. As a fanfic writer, you always have to be cautious about original characters because they can take over the entire fic instead of add to it. And then, of course, there is always the dreaded Mary Sue…::shudders::

So I’m glad you are liking (well, some of you are liking) Oliver. ; - ) Enjoy! ~Jae










“You ready t’ go, luv?”

Buffy looked up from her paperwork to see Spike standing over her with a black baseball cap in his hands.

“Are you done already? We haven’t even been down here an hour,” she replied, glancing at her watch.

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Been doin’ this for a couple o’ years, pet, think we got it down to an exact science by now.”

More than a couple of years by her calculations. Their first album came out in 1999 and they had been touring ever since. How long had that been? Seven years…

That was the same year her mother had died, leaving Dawn in the care of a nineteen year old Buffy who didn’t know jack about raising a little girl. But they had managed and Dawn had turned out to be a normal, well-adjusted young woman despite how rocky those first years had been.

“Did I lose you?”

Buffy blinked back to reality. “No, no, I was just thinking.”

“Anything you wanna talk about?”

“No, but thanks anyway,” she replied, giving him a smile.

He frowned and she could tell he was disappointed. There were many times when he had tried to get her to talk about her life, but she would normally just change the subject. She honestly didn’t know what he found so fascinating about it. She was just a small town girl with small aspirations. Not much to say.

“So, do you still want to go?” He asked, a look of worry on his face.

“Of course, I do.”

Giving her a big smile, he threw the hat on and offered his hand to help her up. “Let’s do this then.”



******




It was hot outside, the desert sun burning down on the city, its rays being soaked up by the black street of The Strip. He was used to the warm weather since Los Angeles never dipped below 68°, but it was odd to see people wearing shorts and tank tops in the beginning of December.

Spike glanced over at Buffy, who was walking next to him and couldn’t contain his look of awe. She was beautiful, like sunshine and glowing perfection. Her bronzed skin shimmered in the sun and her hair sparkled as the rays reflected off of its golden strands.

Absolutely the opposite of Dru and Spike found that he preferred Buffy’s California Girl to Dru’s Queen of the Damned. There was a time when Dru’s dark features and pale skin were his ideal, but not anymore. Now all he could see was light and gold.

“You’re beautiful.”

Buffy turned to look at him. “Not really.”

He rolled his eyes. Why did women always do that? Couldn’t they just take the compliment instead of arguing about it?

“So, the hat’s workin’. Think you owe me an apology for not believin’ me,” he said.

“Whatever! We’ve only been out here for like twenty minutes. Maybe everyone on this end of the strip isn’t a fan and therefore wouldn’t know who you were even without the damn hat,” she retorted, her arms crossing.

“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m right.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Kiss me.”

Suddenly, she stopped walking and gaped at him. “W-What?”

“I said, kiss me.”

“H-Here? Just on the street where everyone can see us? Are you nuts?”

Sighing, he stepped closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong with doin’ it right here? I don’t have anythin’ to hide, luv. Besides, I’m wearin’ the magic hat; no one will even know you’re kissin’ me.”

“Don’t you think we should try and keep it quiet until after your divorce is final?”

“Buffy, I don’t care about the divorce or what anyone will think if you an’ I are together. And I don’t want to wait to be with you.”

“She could use it against you.”

He laughed humorlessly. “How? She’s the one who was bangin’ other guys while I waited at home for her. And we’re legally separated so how could you an’ I ever be brought up in the divorce?”

“But she could. You know her as well as I do.”

“Why the hell are we fightin’ about this? If you don’t want t’ kiss me, just bloody say it and stop makin’ excuses!” He threw his hands up, completely frustrated that she wouldn’t give him a straight answer.

She was quiet for a long time after that. What she was thinking, he had no clue.

“I do want to,” she finally whispered, not looking at him.

Putting a hand under her chin, he tilted it upwards so she could see his sincerity. “What are you so afraid of then? Me?”

“Yes.”

He opened his mouth to ask her why, but she silenced him with her fingers on his lips.

“Not just you. It’s me too. I can’t stop what I’m feeling and what I’m feeling scares me to death.”

Oh, that feeling. He knew that one well. It was like leaping off the tallest building and feeling free, but then the panic sets in when you realize you’ve just took a nosedive off a bloody skyscraper and are about to hit the pavement hard.

That was how he had felt when he was falling in love with Dru so many years ago. And it was the same feeling he was having now with Buffy. But he couldn’t tell her that. Knowing her, she’d probably freak out and tell him it was too soon.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, luv. You don’t have t’ be scared of me,” he told her, picking up one of her hands and stroking it.

Buffy looked down at their hands before returning to his face. She closed the gap between them and let her lips brush against his.

God, she was sweet and so soft. He dropped her hand and wrapped one arm around her waist, bringing her body flush with his. His lips parted so that his tongue could come out to tease hers apart. She didn’t resist and he deepened the kiss.

This was what it was supposed to feel like. Good and pure. Not tainted by distrust and betrayal. Nothing had ever felt so right to him as kissing Buffy did.

Of course, if he didn’t get a hold of himself, kissing her was going to turn into a huge problem. They were in the middle of the walkway while hundreds of people passed by and here he was sporting an erection that had been caused by just kissing his girl. He felt ridiculous, like a bloody schoolboy who just gotten his first hard-on.

Pulling back, his breath coming in short pants, he said, “Buffy, baby. Gotta slow down.”

Her eyes were glazed over and he realized she probably was just as aroused as he was. Well, shit, that just made it worse. Thinking about how he affected her had him growing harder to the point of pain and he had to try hard not to fold under the pressure.

“What? Why? Now?”

He chuckled a little. “All good questions, luv, but right now all you gotta worry about is helpin’ me hide my little- well, not little- problem here.”

That snapped her back to him and she glanced down to the front of his jeans. “Oh. I’m sorry, Spike.”

“For what? I’m pretty sure I enjoyed every second of that.”

A pink blush spread across her cheeks and Spike wondered how a woman like her could get so easily embarrassed. She was all attitude and strength yet here she was, acting like he was her first kiss.

“I did, too.”



******




They had decided to scrap the day out on the town when a strong gust of wind ripped off Spike’s hat. Within moments, he was bombarded with fans wanting autographs and pictures all the while dealing with a stubborn erection that just would not go away.

Now they were stretched out on his bed with a picnic supplied by the good room service people of Mandalay Bay and laughing hysterically over one of his tour stories.

“So Oliver thinks he’s gonna be all cool an’ he jumps off the platform, but his jeans got caught on a nail or something and he goes tumblin’ down, naked as the day he was born. An’ the crowd’s cheering and he kinda hops back onto his feet, gives ’em a salute and finishes the song starkers.”

Buffy covered her mouth to try and keep the giggles from erupting. “No! No, he didn’t!”

“Oh, yes, he did!” Spike told her, popping a Cheeto into his mouth. “Of course, that ended all of the rumors that he was hung like a horse. It was bleedin’ cold in that stadium.”

“There was a rumor about you, too, you know,” Buffy replied before she had a chance to catch what she was saying.

“That I was hung like a horse?”

She shook her head. “No, not that.”

A dark eyebrow arched and he leaned forward onto his elbows. “Oh? Do tell, luv. I’m curious now.”

“Well, I heard that you could, you know, do it for hours. Like Sting.” Oh God, she was going to die from mortification!

“What makes you think that was just a rumor?”

Uh.

Was he admitting to…? Hours?

“I don’t think it was hours last night,” she said, staring down at her sandwich.

When he didn’t say anything, she looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed and she couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or…well, she wasn’t sure what else he could be.

“I hadn’t meant t’ do that,” Spike replied finally.

“What?”

“Come so fast.”

Her eyebrows went up. Was he embarrassed that he hadn’t lasted very long? ‘Cause from where she stood, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He had lasted as long as any of her other boyfriends had.

“I wanted you to. It was your turn.”

His brows wrinkled together. “My turn? You make it sound as if we were playing on the swings or something.”

“Well, it was your turn. You made me feel so good and I wanted to make you feel good, too,” she told him.

His expression softened a bit at that. “I did, luv. What you did was incredible. I just wish I could’ve made it last longer, is all.”

They ate in silence for a while. Buffy wanted to get off the topic of sex as quickly as possible, so she flicked the television on and played with channels until she found MTV. Some mindless music videos would do the trick.

“We toured with them last year,” Spike said, pointing to the screen.

She recognized the band. Shy was pretty popular with the college crowd. Well, mostly the male college crowd. The band’s lead singer, Veruca, was trying for the Sex Kitten of the Year award apparently, posing in Playboy and Maxim and any other magazine that would let her get away with being nude.

Personally, Buffy didn’t get what the buzz was all about. She looked like any other rock chick.

“And how was that?” Buffy asked, taking a sip of her Diet Coke.

Spike shrugged. “Veruca spent the entire time trying to get Oz in the sack. Didn’t work, though, and I think she settled for Oliver in the end.”

“Is Oliver like a slut or something? That’s all I ever hear about him. That he slept with some chick.”

“Of course, he is,” Spike replied with a chuckle. “He’ll be the first t’ tell you how much he enjoys women.”

“Yeah, well, enjoying women and screwing anything with tits are two completely different things.”

Sitting up, Spike scooted over to her. “Do I sense a little hostility against ol’ Olie there, luv?”

“No, it’s just, why does he have to use them like that?”

He grinned and leaned back. “Who says he’s using them? They are the ones who come up t’ him and offer up their bodies like sacrificial lambs.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know that he’s just going to fuck them then ditch them for the next groupie.”

“Bullshit, luv,” he told her. “Most of those girls know that when they jump into a rockstar’s bed, they aren’t likely t’ find much more than a wild ride. Don’t make them out t’ be so naïve. They know exactly what they are doin’.”

“Is that what they thought about you, too?”




******




Spike stared at her with shock.

Was she on this again? Bloody hell, once the girl got something into her head, she didn’t want to let it go.

“I’ve never been with one of my fans, Buffy.”

“Right. You’re telling me you’ve never took one of those girls to bed with you? How gullible do you think I am?”

“No, I never have and I never will. I don’t know why you keep on insisting that I have an interest in those women. And I don’t think you’re gullible, just out of your bleedin’ skull,” he retorted, pointing to his temple and twisting his finger around.

“But it isn’t logical. You are surrounded by beautiful females who want nothing but to sleep with you, why wouldn’t you want to be with them?” She asked, her tone less accusing and more curious.

Spike sighed loudly. “You already know the answer t’ that. I was with Dru, why would I want t’ go be with some chit that meant nothing t’ me? And now I’m with you. There is no one I’d rather have in my bed than you, luv. No one.”

“But Oliver-”

“Oliver prefers no strings. He and I are nothin’ alike,” he replied, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into his lap. “I want strings, luv, bloody chains to hold me t’ you.”

“So you never-”

“No. I was faithful t’ Dru even after the ship started sinkin’. And now that I’m with you, I intend t’ be just as faithful. I wish you would just trust me.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him quickly. “I do trust you, it’s just that-”

“I’m not like them.” At her expression, he knew that his hunch had paid off. She had been hurt by someone before, someone who wasn’t true to her. It pissed him off to think about her being with another man, but it practically sent him into a blind rage when he thought some asshole might have hurt her.

Sometimes men were soddin’ idiots. He should know since he was one of them. But he would never be that guy, the one that would hurt her. Nope, if anyone was going to get hurt out of this relationship, it most likely would be him. After all, he was love’s bitch and he tended to fall hard.





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