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Chapter Seventeen


Spike was finding it hard to keep his hands to himself. He felt as if the there had been a dam building inside him ever since he and Buffy had been separated and now that they were – tentatively?—back together, all the love, passion and longing he'd felt her was bursting forth, saturating him with adoration for the tiny woman who had managed to steal his heart once again. Well, in all fairness, she'd always had it. He'd never stopped loving her. Not once.

It was encouraging to him that she was giggling like the school girl she was once was as he nibbled on her neck as he ducked them into the empty closet of the third apartment she'd drug him to.

"What about this one? Do you like this one?" He asked between nibbles and kisses.

"I think so," she said, halfway between a sigh and a moan.

He pulled back. "Really? I liked the first one."

She blinked up at him. "You really expect me to think when you're doing
that?"

He smirked, the patented smirk that she used to swoon over in high school
before they'd gotten together. It still got her, but now she wanted to give
him a taste of his own medicine. She leaned in and ran her tongue along his
bottom lip; he groaned and moved in, wanting more. She leaned back and
patted his behind. "I should probably see more than the closet," and she
bounced off, a spring in her step.

"You trying to kill me?" He almost whimpered as he followed her out.

She gave him a devilish smile.



A half hour later, Buffy was signing papers. She's glowing, Spike noted,
partially bent thinking that he didn't have anything to do with the huge
smile on her face as she talked to the realtor. Then she turned her big,
bright smile on him and he thought maybe he did somewhat at least. As
soon as the realtor walked out, congratulating her, Buffy jumped into
Spike's arms, legs wrapping around his waist and enveloping him in a huge
hug.

"I have keys! Keys to my very own place, Spike! Me, Buffy Summers has
her own place!" She exclaimed and he could feel her heart thundering
against him. He smiled wide, even though she had turned him down on his
offer to move in with him, he was happy for her. She'd explained to him
how important this was to her, and in the long run to them. She made no
bones about the fact that she wanted to be with him, but that she also
wanted to take it slow.

"I think this is cause for celebration. How about we christen it?"

Buffy pulled back, wide- eyed. "What do you mean?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter. I mean a picnic."

She blushed and giggled. "Okay."

Despite their teasing, innuendo's and making out every chance they had,
the sex act itself still produced a bit of fear for both of them. It loomed
ahead of them and although they knew they wanted each other,
desperately, fear held them at bay. That act had led to so much. . . it meant
so much. At that moment just being together was enough and a feat within
itself. Their relationship was so delicate still, to add pressure to it by
consummating it immediately, would just be overload.


"Can I ask you a question?" Buffy asked a few days later as they strolled
through the park hand in hand.

"You can ask me anything, Princess."

She smiled at that endearment. "Were you uh, with a lot of women?"

He darted a glance at her. "You mean have I been in love with anyone or
have I slept around?"

She chewed her bottom lip. "I guess both."

"Well, I can honestly say that I haven't been in love with anyone since you.
I've had relationships. . . if you can even call them that. No one fit though.
My choices left a lot to be desired. I dated a bunch of nameless, faceless
bimbo's. I had lots of sex and that was it. A lot of them latched on to me,
defined themselves by being with me and when I got tired of it, I moved on."

Buffy hadn't expected the answer to make her jealous. She figured she'd be
all right with it. They had a life after their relationship for crying out loud.
She didn't expect him to be a monk. She'd had Wesley after all. But Wesley
was just one. Spike had a harem. Therein lied the difference.

She pulled her hand from his grasp, under the pretense of sitting on the
swing. He studied her, head cocked to the side.

"Pet?"

"What?" she asked, starting to pump her legs.

"You all right?"

"Uh huh."

He walked over to her and grabbed her legs, stopping her. "Don't lie to me.
Not now. Not ever. What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You're jealous," he said as if he'd just figured it out. Stupid men.

"No," she said, still refusing to look at him.

He knelt before her. "Buffy. It was another life. I was a different man."

She looked at him and sighed. "I know. I have no right to be jealous. I just
am. It's stupid and I hate admitting it."


He smiled gently and reached out, caressing the side of her face. "I was
insanely jealous of Wesley."

She quirked an eyebrow, "You were?"

He nodded. "I respected your relationship with him, but it was hard at
times. Especially when I thought you left me."

She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Never," she whispered.

He gazed at her tenderly, cupping her face in his hands. "I love you. You
know that right?"

She nodded. "I love you too."

"Never leave each other again. No matter what, we fight, right?"

"Till death to us part," she murmured against his lips.





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