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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello my lovely readers. This chapter came to me a lot easier than I'd expected so I'm able to povide an update nice and quickly for you. I hope you enjoy it.

A big thank you to Pam S for her last review. Her comments provided some wonderful inspiration for this chapter.
Chapter Seven

When Spike knocked on her office door the following day, Buffy threw a cheery “Come in” over her shoulder. She waited until she heard him sit down before she turned her swivel chair away from her desk to face him.

“Good afternoon, William.” Her legs were crossed in order to best show them off from just above the knee, where her skirt ended, down to her high heels. The cowled neckline of her sleeveless shirt revealed just a hint of cleavage. To add the finishing touch to the effect, she made sure that, as she turned, her long, flowing hair swung carelessly over one shoulder.

With a secretive smile, she sat back and awaited his reaction.

Spike's eyes slid briefly down her body before he looked away and began to unload a stack of papers from his bag. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Good afternoon. How are you today, Professor Summers?”

Buffy frowned. That's it? I spend over an hour digging through my wardrobe to find just the right outfit to get under your skin and all I get is a single glance and a generic 'how are you'?

“I'm fine,” she said, her tone decidedly less cheery now. “And yourself?”

“Yeah, good,” he replied without looking up. “I've brought my questionnaire along to show you. If you wouldn't mind taking a look at it.”

Buffy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was going to be harder than she'd thought. “Of course.” Taking the offered papers, she began to look through them. A smile curved the corners of her mouth. “I take it you haven't designed many questionnaires before?”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “That obvious, huh?”

She chuckled. “Oh yeah. Pull up your chair.” She turned back toward the desk and cleared some space for them to work on.

He moved in beside her so they could both see the pages at the same time. They were so close that their arms were almost touching. Buffy almost crowed in delight. This I can work with.

“Okay,” she said, picking up her red pen. “One of the things you want to achieve is a balance between clarity and length. You want your questions to be nicely spaced but, at the same time, if you hand people a thick stack of pages they'll balk at completing them all.”

As she spoke, Buffy kept her pen busy on the page, making notes here and there. Every few minutes she looked up at Spike to ask a question or for clarification on a point. She kept her voice low to encourage him to lean closer. When that didn't work she started to point out areas of the page furthest to her left so he was forced to lean in, if only to see what she was talking about.

Then came the clincher. Her leg brushed against his underneath the table. It had actually been an accident. Just something that occurred naturally as they moved. But when it did happen, she froze. Her breath caught, her pen paused, she fought against the urge to rub her bare calf against the denim of his jeans.

A heartbeat later, he moved away. Right away. Like, two feet further down the desk away.

That was so not the reaction she'd been hoping for.

She put pen to paper again in an attempt to hide any sign that she'd noticed the sudden gaping distance between them. It only took her a few minutes to finish looking through everything, and by then she felt calm enough to speak without giving herself away.

“There,” she said, gathering the pages into a neat pile. “I think that should do it. Take a look at my suggestions and see what you think. I'll review it again at our next meeting, but I'm sure you'll be fine.” She clasped her hands together in her lap as she finally forced herself to meet his gaze. “What else did you want to do today?”

His mouth open and closed soundlessly a few times before he managed to speak. “Nothing. That should cover it for now.” Spike all but snatched the questionnaire out of her hands and stuffed it into his bag.

“I guess I'll see you next week then.” With a defeated sigh she stood to say goodbye. “Oh, and I have a new book you might be interested in reading. One of my other students will be returning it to me later today so feel free to drop in and pick it up, if you have the time. You know my office hours.”

“I do.” Spike slung his bag over his shoulder before holding out his hand. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

She slipped her hand into his, feeling a tingling sensation rush up her arm as her skin pressed against his palm. Her fingers curled around his as he shook her hand. Calling herself a dozen kinds of fool, she searched his eyes in one last attempt to find...she wasn't even sure what. Some sign of the fire that she'd seen burning in him before she'd gone and doused him with cold water.

For just a moment she thought she saw something. A tiny flicker of desire dancing in those blue depths as he held her hand just a fraction longer than necessary. But then it was gone and he rushed out of the office muttering something about being late for another appointment.

Buffy slumped into her chair, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my God,” she said with a mortified groan. “Buffy, you idiot.”

Snatching up the phone she dialled the number for Willow's cell phone, praying she would answer.

“Dr Rosenberg speaking.”

“Willow, I've made a huge mistake and it's all your fault,” Buffy cried into the phone.

“Err, okay. Tell me what happened.”

Buffy quickly relayed the details of her meeting with Spike, feeling her face burn hotter with every word. “...and then he practically ran out of the room like the devil was after him.”

“Oh dear.” There was a long pause before Willow added, “I guess it could have been worse.”

“Yeah, he could have been screaming as he ran out the door.”

“No. I mean you didn't actually say anything inappropriate it's not like you tried to kiss him or anything. Maybe he just didn't realise you were trying to provoke a reaction.”

“Willow, I couldn't have been more obvious if I'd actually tried to hump his leg.”

“Yikes!”

Buffy closed her eyes, feeling shame wash over her. “That about covers it.”

**********

In a bathroom just down the hall, Spike splashed water over his face and tried to will away the giant erection that had taken up residence in his pants. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Buffy sitting there beside him. Her scent intoxicating. Her smile tempting. Her body all but begging him to reach out and touch.

When he'd decided to play the cold fish in response to her announcement a month ago, he'd thought that it might bruise her ego a little. Maybe even make her regret her decision. But this? This was something else all together.

It wasn't anything specific that she'd said or done. But he knew without a doubt that, from the moment he walked into her office, she'd had every intention of driving him crazy with want. He wasn't quite sure why, considering she'd been the one to call a halt to any kind of relationship between them, but it had been impossible to miss.

Then, when her leg had rested against his under the table, her heated response has been unmistakable. The gentle parting of her lips, the way she'd stilled, as if in anticipation of what the following moments would bring. She'd been breathtaking. It had taken every shred of willpower he possessed to resist her.

He cursed at his reflection in the mirror as every aroused bone in his body urged him to storm right back into her office and finished what she had started. He clutched at the sink in front of him, his knuckles turning white with the effort to stay where he was. He was not some adolescent boy to be led about by his libido and he was not about to be taken in by her games. He'd tell her that too. Just as soon as he managed to get this damn erection to go the freakin' hell away.





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