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Ch. 13: Song for the Open Heart

"So, what? You just woke up one day and realized you wanted her?" Xander asked bluntly as he sunk a ball into the corner pocket.

"What? Don't be stupid. That'd be ridiculous," he retorted while lighting up.

"Not that I'm complaining. I think you and Buffy are great. I'm just curious where it came from. You never talked much about it before." He moved around to prepare for his next shot, which he promptly missed.

"Why do you try to make things so complex, when life is so clearly complex?" Spike asked as he moved to take his turn. He banked the ball and made a difficult shot. He sauntered over to make his next shot, an easy one perfectly set up; he missed.

"Why do you try to make things so complex, when life is so clearly simple?" he retorted, patting Spike on the back as he moved past him to shoot.

"Simple for simpletons like you," he commented, taking a drag from his cigarette while leaning back on a pole. "You know Buffy and I have always fought. But I guess I kinda liked it, like there was electricity, even though it was mean. When we finally stopped the fighting, the electricity was still there. He rubbed the chalk on his stick as Xander moved out of his way after missing. "Side pocket. And when I saw her with Angel, I felt something. Jealousy? Don't know. Just realized that maybe I should be a little more proactive and do something about it. For a while, I thought I was too late." He eyed the table to figure out how to maneuver around Xander's stripes. "Kiss off the 3 into the corner pocket. But then she figured out what an ass he was, and I got my shot." He swung the cue around his back to position himself for the final shot.

"Way to show off. You could just use the rack," Xander said, annoyed by his losing state.

"Nah. The rack's for pussies." He carefully cocked his arm and then made a clean shot, sinking the eight ball. "And that's game."

"So now you're all cocky? How do you know Buffy's gonna go for you? I mean, it's great that you guys kissed and all, but are you gonna make it official?" Xander asked, setting up the table for another round.

"Yeah, eventually. It's not like I don't want to or anything. It's just sort of weird, you know? I mean, call her up and ask her to be my girlfriend? Seems old fashioned. How did you get it with Anya?"

"Anya? Simple. She asked me. Simplicity, my friend. That's the answer. My advice is--" He paused, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Hold on. It's Anya." He turned away to talk to his girlfriend.

"Whipped." He finished setting up the balls and then strode to the other side of the table to break. He had already cleared half the table when Xander finally returned. "Yeah? What'd she want?"

"Uh, you in the mood for shopping?" Xander asked.

"What kind of stupid question is that? When am I ever in the mood for shopping?" Spike muttered. "Is that what she wanted?"

"Yeah, we're supposed to go to the mall for my birthday present. You want to come?"

"With the two of you?" Spike said, his tone incredulous. "No thanks."

"Come on, Spike. You gotta help me out here. If you're there she might not embarrass me as much. Two against one I might have a fighting chance. Please? Help out a fellow friend," Xander pleaded.

"Fine. But she's not draggin' me into any lady shops. I'd rather gouge my eyes out." He returned the cue sticks and balls to the bartender. "You owe me."

"I always do. Let's go." They both headed for Xander's car to pick up Anya.


***

"I can't believe you didn't call me last night," Willow complained, pouting. "Where's the love, I ask?" They walked leisurely through the mall, window shopping to put off their studying plans.

"The love was with Oz, last night, apparently," Buffy retorted, poking the redhead in her tickle zone. She laughed at the blushes, dodging Willow's attempts to swat her away.

"I see we're in a good mood today. Anything interesting happen that you'd like to tell your best friend?" she queried, innocence oozing from her green eyes. They turned into a small café and waited in line to get coffee.

"Well, I don't know about that. Do you have any naughty things you want to tell me? I'm thinking that we should go for a trade--not that I have anything to share, just hypothetically speaking," she teased, her eyes sparkling. Buffy wasn't used to actually having something to tell. She was dying to tell Willow all the details, but she could tell that Willow wanted to give as well. This time there'd be a fair sharing all around. After getting their coffee, they seated themselves at a small table by the window.

"There's no point in denying it. You know how bad you are at lying, and your face says way too much. So spill. I will if you will." Willow waited, anxious to hear how things had turned out.

"Well, since you asked nicely..." she said slowly, licking the whipped cream off the top of her drink. "After you guys left, he walked me home. And it was really really nice." Her eyes glazed a little, remembering how sweet he had been and how beautiful the walk had been.

"Hey, don't zone on me! I'm still waiting for the smoochies," Willow protested.

"Okay, okay. So we're walking home, talking about random things--you know me--and then he held my hand." She blushed, the memory still bringing flutters.

"Aww, that is so sweet! I can't believe it! Spikie's a big ol' softie!"

"Hey, you better not say anything. I don't really know what it meant to him, but I don't want this to be public till I get some confirmation. Got it?" she warned, pointing her finger viciously.

"Okay! Geez, won't say anything. Not even to Oz?" she ventured.

"No, not even to Oz. Just wait a little bit longer. Anyway, you haven't let me finish my story."

"You interrupted yourself! Go on."

"So we're walking home, holding hands, and then we get to the door. And I go to the door and turn around to tell him goodnight and thanks for the walk and all that--" she paused dramatically.

"And?" Willow asked, her eyes eager.

"And then he kissed me. He kissed me. He kissed me, Willow!" she squealed, shaking her friend.

"That's so awesome! Was it good? I guess so," she commented, when they finally stopped bouncing.

"Oh, god, Willow. It was amazing. I know I don't have that much experience, just Angel the dork, but I thought he was a pretty good kisser at the time. But now? Man, he was nothing. This kiss was just, well, amazing. So amazing. God, Willow, I thought I was going to melt into a puddle and at the same time I just wanted to hold onto him forever."

"Good kisses. They are very important in life. I totally know what you mean. When Oz kisses me, I just feel like the world spins out of control and stops at the same time."

"Exactly. It was just perfect." She paused, taking a sip of coffee, her brow slightly furrowing. "The thing is, I don't know what we are. I mean, it's not like he asked me out. Life would be a lot simpler if he just, you know, came up and said, 'Hey, you wanna be my girlfriend?' No, he just kisses me and makes my heart drop into my knees and then says, 'See ya tomorrow!'" She pouted, resting her chin on her hands.

"I see your point. But did he say anything afterwards?"

"No, he just said 'See you tomorrow' and then left. You see my dilemma? I mean, how am I supposed to act now? And was it just a random hookup? Like, in the moment he wanted to kiss me but that doesn't necessarily mean that he wants something more? I know that some people do that--go to parties and make out and then are completely the same when they see each other. I suppose that's possible, but that's not really what I want. And I'll feel stupid if that's what it was to him, because I thought it was so much more than that, but I don't want to say anything to him because I don't want him to know that it meant so much to me--"

"Whoa!" Willow interrupted. "Slow down that train, Buffy. You don't know anything yet. Just sort of wait it out and see how he acts the next time you see him, which may be sooner than you thought," she said, observing the people outside the window.

"What? What do you mean?" she asked, her face questioning.

"Hey, guys," Willow called out to the space behind Buffy.

Buffy's eyes grew wide and her face flushed slightly. She waited a moment before turning around to see Xander, Anya, and Spike.

"Hey guys!" chirped Anya, her arm around Xander's. "What's up?"

Xander waved, and Spike nodded. Buffy's heart sank, noting that he didn't seem to single her out in his greeting.

Seeing that Buffy was still in shock, Willow took over. "We're just hanging, you know, before study group tonight. You guys gonna get something? You can sit with us. Pull up some chairs." She reached over to grab some of the empty chairs at the next table.

"Actually, Xander and I have to go check out Victoria's Secret because his birthday is coming up and I want to get something for me, but you know actually for him. That kind of thing. And Spike refused to come, so it's cool that we ran into you guys. Looks like you just sat down?" she asked, observing the full mugs of coffee before the girls. "So Spike can sit with you guys while we shop and then we can meet up with you afterwards. Now you don't have to blind yourself, Spike," she said brightly. "See you guys in a little bit," she called out while dragging Xander off.

"Uh, yeah. See you guys later," Xander said, his face completely flushed by Anya's comments and directness in making out their plans. "Later, Spike."

Buffy still sat silently, so Willow tried to see how she could make things better. "So, Spike. What possessed you to go shopping with Xander and Anya?"

Spike grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Actually, Xander and I were shooting pool, and then Anya called. You know how she gets when she wants to do something. Xander couldn't say no, and since I didn't have anything better to do, I came along." He shrugged nonchalantly. "What about you guys? Any particular reason for comin' out?"

Willow subtly nudged Buffy under the table, willing her to talk, grunt even. Buffy glared at her friend and pursed her lips, as if cementing them shut. Willow sighed and then put on her resolve face. She smiled at Spike. "Sorry you had to be subjected to Anya's whims. Let me buy you something. Mocha? As usual? Good. Be right back." She looked pointedly at Buffy before leaving the table, not allowing Spike to protest, which he was about to do.

Buffy's eyes widened in seeing her friend leave so purposely, and her eyes got even bigger when she saw Spike looking at her.

Spike was about to say something when Buffy leaped to her feet. "I, uh, want Willow to get me something else. Be right back," she blurted. He sat back, wondering what had just happened in the past five minutes.

"Willow!" she whispered fiercely, grabbing her friend's arm. "I can't believe you just did that to me!"

"Buffy, you did not just leave him alone. Go back there and talk to him!" Willow said, exasperated.

"What am I supposed to say? I was just saying how I didn't know how I was going to act around him, and then you dump me alone with him! That's not very nice of you," she accused.

"Just act normal. Talk about the test we're studying for. Ask about his next gig. Just get your butt back there before he thinks you're a total nut case!" she commanded, pushing her friends back towards the table.

"Fine. Don't want him to think I'm crazy. Oh, you have to get me something, because that was my excuse. Something with chocolate. I need the support." She thrust some bills into Willow's hand, took a quick breath, and then went back to the table.

Spike looked at her questioningly when Buffy came back to the table. "Got what you needed?" he asked as she sat back down at the table.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Got it. Needed a chocolate fix," she said as she began fidgeting with her napkin.

"You okay? Is something wrong? You seem upset or something," he said, his voice concerned.

Her head shot up, and she made eye contact with him for the first time. "No, nothing. I didn't mean to come across like that. Didn't get much sleep."

He cocked his eyebrow at her response, and she quickly said, "I mean, I was just reading a book and got into it and ended up sleeping later than I thought." She congratulated herself for thinking so quickly.

"I didn't get much sleep last night either, but not because of a book." He looked at her fixedly.

Buffy blushed under his gaze, completely incapable of saying anything comprehensible.

"What, no witty comeback?" he teased, leaning forward.

"It's gotta be witty to be worth a comeback," she retorted, challenged into speaking.

"Finally, there she is." His eyes sparkled with humor. "Was startin' to worry that your spark was wearing down."

"Maybe I just need the right stimulation--I mean--"

"Oh, I can give you the right stimulation," he murmured, giving her a meaningful look.

"That's so not what I meant, you perv," she muttered, her face red with embarrassment.

"So, your house tonight?" He smirked when he saw the look on her face. "For studying, pet. Remember?"

"Of course I remember. You're the one with the dirty mind." She went back to fidgeting with her napkin and looked up to see if Willow was on her way back.

"I was wondering, maybe I could stay a little afterwards? Take you up on that offer to hear some of my songs," he asked, almost shyly.

She stared at him, wondering at his sudden change in tone. One minute he was brash and confident, the next self-conscious and completely endearing in his insecurity. Her heart skipped around as he looked up at her in anticipation.

"Yeah, I'd love to hear your songs," she said softly.

"I'd love to play them for you," he responded softly.

They sat still, simply looking at each other, until Willow returned.

Buffy blushed again, wondering if she had looked stupid just staring at him.

"Sorry it took so long. Sometimes people should understand when the whole job thing is simply not working for them." She plopped into her seat and then handed out the goodies. "Chocolate-y goodness for you, chocolate-y goodness for you. Enjoy!" she declared, taking in the situation. No yelling or anger, which was always a good sign for Buffy. She smiled, satisfied that her little maneuvering had worked successfully.

***

"Okay, got it. Formulas? Check. Variables? Check. Brain? Uh oh," Xander said as he collapsed onto the sofa. "Nope. Sorry. Can't do it anymore. Must play video games. Must stop studying."

"Xander, hush," Willow scolded, throwing a pillow at his curled body. "We're almost done."

"Actually, I'm done. Xander, take me home," Anya said, packing her bag. "What?" she asked, all eyes looking at her. "I am done. There's only so much you can take of this, and there's no use in pretending that I can learn more or remember more when I can be at home, watching the Fashion Channel and making out with Xander."

"Such logic. That's my girl," Xander said, finally rising from his prone position.

"Buffy? Are you done?" Willow inquired, catching her friend's eyes.

"Well, it's not like I can go anywhere, so feel free to keep going if you want," Buffy said, exhaustion creeping into her voice. She subtly glanced at Spike while speaking.

"Spike?"

"Actually, I'm meeting with Buffy afterwards, so even if you're done, I'm staying," he said while stretching.

Willow looked at Buffy for some inkling as to why they were meeting, but the blonde suddenly became interested in her nails. She sighed, closing her textbook. "Fine. I guess we're as prepared as we'll ever be."

"And the tyrant lays down her whip," Xander jested. "It's been fun. Audi 5000 and all," he said as he waved goodbye.

"See you tomorrow," Anya called as she and Xander left quickly.

"Geez, was it that painful?" Willow muttered as she watched them leave.

"No, Wills. It's just difficult to study on a Sunday night," Buffy said sympathetically.

"Alright. Maybe I can drop by Oz's, since the night is still young," she said, perking up at the thought.

"Don't wear him out," Spike teased, rising to say goodnight.

"Haha. I can't help it if I'm a red-headed wildcat," Willow replied, her grin spreading across her face. "See you guys tomorrow." She waved and then headed out the door.

"Well, that wrapped up quickly," Spike commented as the two were left in the living room.

"Uh, yeah. Guess people just didn't feel like studying tonight." Buffy busied herself with putting away cups and chips left over from the study session.

"Hey, I'm gonna go get my guitar out of my car. Be right back," he said, walking towards the door.

"Sure thing," Buffy said brightly, trying to hide her nervousness in suddenly being alone with him. Once he left, she sunk into the sofa, unsure about how their little song session was going to go. She was a little peeved that he hadn't treated her any differently than before, though they weren't constantly fighting and he did subtly caress her hand when she'd given him a drink and had smiled at her when it seemed like no one was looking--but she wasn't sure if she'd imagined those things. The point was that no one else had noticed, and she didn't exactly want to be some kind of secret.

Hearing him walk up the porch, she jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen.

"Buffy?" Spike called out when he came in. "You still here?"

"Of course I'm here," Buffy replied, entering the room. "Where else would I be?"

"Well, the room was empty. Thought you ran off or something," he said lightly, walking into the room. He put his guitar down and turned to her. "You ready for--"

"You want something to drink? Hot chocolate or something?" Buffy asked, interrupting him. She wasn't even sure what he was asking about, but she knew she still wasn't quite ready.

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Hot chocolate would be great," he said, surprised by her sudden offer. Puzzled, he turned to open his guitar and pull out some music. Though he hadn't felt nervous before, her fidgeting was making him unsettled, hinting that perhaps she had just been playing around before and wasn't actually interested in him. The thought alarmed him, and he strummed and tuned his guitar to ease his nerves.

A few moments later, Buffy appeared with a tray of hot cocoa and some cookies. "Just in case you didn't get your fill of chips earlier," she said, placing it carefully on the coffee table.

"Thanks. This looks really great. Marshmallows and all," he observed, smiling at her. He noticed her blush and then felt a little more confident. "Sit. You don't have to play hostess with me." He patted the place on the couch next to him.

"You know me, Suzy Homemaker. Except not," Buffy remarked, easing herself onto the sofa. It wasn't as though they hadn't sat next to each other before, but the air just seemed charged with some kind of tension. She held her body tightly, waiting to see what he did next.

"So, ready for the test tomorrow?" Spike asked, trying to lessen the awkwardness that permeated the living room. He distractedly played on the guitar while chatting.

"Yeah, why not. I'm not that worried. But we should begin our English project--I don't want to fall behind on that." She absentmindedly blew on her hot cocoa.

"Another excuse to spend time with you? Okay, you convinced me," he declared, his eyes waiting to see if she would blush and then his lips curving into a grin when he saw it spread across her cheeks.

"Consider yourself incredibly lucky," she retorted, the flush on her face belying the cocky tone of her voice. "So, you gonna sing for me or what?"

"Depends on what the 'or what' is," he joked, beginning to feel more comfortable. He laughed as she attempted to hit him without spilling her drink. "Relax. Plenty of time for that later, pet." He winked and then straightened some papers on the table. "I did actually intend on singing for you, if you're still willing to hear me."

"Of course. I've got my listening ears on. You mentioned you wanted some feedback? What kind of feedback were you thinking of?"

"Well, the usual. Does it sound polished, does it call out to you--essentially, does it work. The first song is just one the band wrote together. It's supposed to be kinda upbeat and rockin. Ready?"

"Ready." She pulled up her knees and luxuriated in the excuse to stare at him without secrecy.

He began rhythmically strumming, creating a pulsing sound and adding percussion with the tapping of his hand as he moved up and down the guitar. Buffy found herself nodding to the beat, enjoying the way the music flew all over the place. When he started singing, however, she couldn't help but gawk. His eyes were closed, and his head was thrown back, his glee in playing completely apparent on his face and his posture. He looked completely content and incredibly sexy. She wanted to lean in and lick that bobbing apple in his throat, and the sexuality of the imagined action made her gasp at the thought. Hearing her, Spike opened his eyes to look at her, winked, and then went back to playing. Buffy could feel her body oozing onto the floor in a puddle of lust.

"You liked that one, pet?" Spike asked, the grin still plastered on his face. She had looked so innocent and yet had a lascivious glint in her eye, amusing him.

"Loved it. Really really good song," Buffy praised enthusiastically. If she concentrated on the music, maybe she wouldn't have to think about how hot he looked. Musicians just had it goin' on, she concluded.

"Really? No other comments? I mean, you have to imagine it with the bass and the kickin' drums with a little bit of bongos thrown in." Spike's face became animated in describing the music, and Buffy watched with the slightest tinge of envy.

"It must be really cool to be in a band. I mean, to have one goal in mind and to work together to create something. I've always wanted to be in a band," she commented rather wistfully. "But classical piano isn't exactly the thing that bands are made of. And I don't know how to play guitar. I think it's really cool that you play so well," Buffy stated frankly, her admiration clear in her voice.

"Secret dreams of being in a band, ey? Well, if you want, I could teach you how to play guitar," Spike ventured, warming to the idea of spending more time with her. "I don't know how good of a teacher I'd be, but I'm willing to try if you are."

"Really?" she said excitedly. "I've always wanted to learn, but guitar lessons weren't exactly high on Mom's priority list. I would totally be willing." Unconsciously she moved forward in her enthusiasm.

"And, I have a proposition for you. This next song I imagine with a female voice. I know you can sing--"

"What? No, I--"

"No, don't bother denying it. I remember when you ladies decided to go karaoke, and you all went up there and sang Spice Girls. Not exactly my taste of music, but I remember your voice." He grinned at the memory.

"God, I can't believe you're bringing that up--and I definitely am not a singer." Buffy hid her face in her hands, embarrassed.

"Well, I'm not saying you're a secret opera singer, but your voice had a distinct tone that I think would work well with this kind of music. Just give it a try. You can try it in front of me, and if you really don't like it, it'll just be our thing." He reached out to touch her arm in reassurance, and he began stroking her arm, enjoying the warmth of her skin. They stayed like that for a moment, Buffy still hiding in her hands and Spike slowly moving his thumb against her skin, enjoying the goose bumps that were rapidly spreading up her arm. Finally, she emerged.

"Fine. I'll try it. But just remember that this was your idea."

"No problem. I'll sing the song first, and then if you feel comfortable, we can sing it together." He placed the music in between them, moving closer so that they could share. "This song is pretty new. Actually, I wrote it yesterday, after I walked you home." He looked at her directly, smiling softly.

"Really?" she murmured. "Is that what kept you up?"

"Partly." He winked. "But seriously, I just felt, I don't know, inspired afterwards--our talk of the moon and the painful beauty and all. The music just sort of came to me."

"That's really, well, really cool. I can't believe I was there when inspiration hit. Makes me feel special," she joked.

"You are," he said simply. He reached out to caress her cheek, and then his hands returned to the guitar. "Here goes."

And then he began plucking a smooth series of notes up and down the neck of the guitar, creating a sound that seemed to capture the intoxicating mood of the previous night. He began singing softly, words of moonlight and beauty flowing over her and calling out to her soul. She closed her eyes and revisited the memory of walking with him, and Spike's voice echoed through her. It was so striking, the way his words and music melded together to fashion the perfect soundtrack for her memory. It ended all too quickly, and with the final note she opened her eyes again to find him staring at her.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Spike broke the silence. "What did you think?" he whispered.

"Incredible." She cast her eyes down, unused to his stare. She looked up again to see him still staring at her. Finally he looked away and began strumming his guitar again.

"So, you want me to play it again, or do you feel okay trying it out. I don't know how quick you are with--"

"I got it. I mean, it just seems so natural. I think I can try it." She licked her lips and cleared her throat in preparation.

Spike smiled. "We can sing it together."

He began playing, and Buffy came in on cue. Their voices blended together nicely, and Spike began singing more softly to let her notes ring out clearly. Buffy closed her eyes at the chorus, the words already memorized. Spike quickly switched to harmony, complementing the high notes of the melody. The intertwined notes created a stunning fusion of notes, and Buffy's heart leapt in hearing how well they sounded together. Spike's gravelly voice added a lower layer to Buffy's twangy soprano. She felt where he was going and easily followed him into the second verse and a repeat of the chorus. As their voices grew stronger, she felt an energy flowing between them, connecting them in the musical world they were creating beyond the physical realm. She felt herself flying along the notes, the words her wings. She could almost smell the night air and see the stars twinkling in the music. It thrilled her and made her shiver, sensing the intensity of the song.

Finally, the song came to an end, and Buffy and Spike opened their eyes to look at each other. Without words, they both moved towards each other until finally their lips touched, the final piece of the song.

Somehow the guitar disappeared, the music fell unheeded, and the two pulled closer to each other, wanting to feel physically the connection they had just experienced in singing together. Their touch was slow but deep. Spike ran his fingers through her hair, bringing her even nearer. Buffy clung to his shirt and then rubbed his chest, wanting her fingers to taste him as well. She reached up to caress his cheek and shifted closer, their legs intertwining. He broke off and began kissing her neck, savoring every spot of skin he could explore with his tongue. He heard her gasp and it only made him want more. He pulled her onto his lap, and Buffy instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. The movement pushed their bodies together, and both breathed sharply, the contact sending brilliant sensations through them.

"Oh, Buffy," Spike sighed, his hands rubbing her body and holding her tight. "God, you're so beautiful."

She simply moaned in response, seeking his lips once more. Their tongues tasted and probed and luxuriated in the new feelings coursing through their bodies. Buffy felt completely overwhelmed by her desires; she wanted to touch him, make him moan, keep those exploding lights constantly coming. Spike struggled to control himself; he wanted to possess her, envelop her completely and feel her warm body against his. Their kisses slowed, and eventually they simply sat in each other's arms, breathing heavily.

"You make me feel so alive," he murmured, nuzzling against her smooth cheek.

"You make me feel so much at once...I don't even know how to respond." She hugged him, afraid that letting go would make him disappear.

"Well, I like your response so far," he teased. "Hey, now!" His teasing had resulted in her tickling him, and suddenly she was on her back, trying to escape his torturous hands.

"Stop! Stop!" she shrieked, laughing and hyperventilating in her attempts to stop him.

"What'll you give me?" he dared, still poking her in her most ticklish places.

"Anything! God, anything!" she yelped, desperate for him to stop.

And immediately, he did.

"I'll have to think of something really good," he said seriously, his body above hers. He laughed at her sudden wide-eyed expression.

"You can't hold me responsible for things said while being tortured," she commented, slightly pouting.

"But then where's the fun in it?" he jested. He brushed her hair out of her face, her locks disheveled by their spontaneous tickle fight. He pulled her up and held her against his chest. Slowly their heartbeats returned to normal, and they simply leaned against each other.

"Buffy, um, can I ask you something?" Spike asked timidly, his chin resting on her head.

She pulled away and looked at him seriously. "Yeah. What?" She bit her lip, not sure of what to expect.

"I know this may sound kind of stupid, but I've been told simple is sometimes best." He took her hand, soft caressing it. "So, then. Here goes. Buffy," he began.

"Yes?" she repeated, her heart speeding up and thumping against her ribcage.

"Um, do you want to be my girlfriend? I know that sounds stupid, but I didn't know how else to do it and didn't want you to think I was just playin' you like that college poofter and so I --"

She silenced him with a kiss. Her actions surprised even herself, but she simply reacted; it seemed right. So she kissed him again, and again, and again.

"Yes."

He smiled, and she smiled, and then they held each other, basking in the security of their declarations.

"Good song," he said tenderly, rubbing her back.

"Perfect," she said, playing with his fingers. "Just perfect."





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