Buffy stood in front of the microwave. The pops were getting more frequent as she watched the turntable go round and round. Finally, the noise let up, and she hit the stop button and took the bag out of the machine.

It was Saturday night, and she was standing there in the kitchen wearing old sweats and emptying a bag of microwave popcorn into a big bowl. Dawn was invited to a movie with a group of friends. Buffy was going to be single girl tonight.

She had rented one of her favorite movies to watch. By herself. Alone in the living room. She was ready to enjoy it. Really.

As she walked toward the living room, she heard someone conducting a conversation near the front door. At first Buffy thought Dawn's friend had arrived to pick her up. And then Buffy recognized the voice. It was male. And British.

"Now remember," Spike's voice said. "If this whelp tries any funny business in the theater ... any roving hands ... you take the heel of your shoe and you stomp it in his foot, painful-like. That'll put him in his place."

Buffy realized that Spike must have been making one of his periodic calls to check up on Dawn. She cracked the kitchen door so that she could get a look at what was going on.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Spike, I told you this ISN'T a date. This is a group thing. Monique's mom will be there, for pete's sake."

"Will there be boys?" Spike asked.

"Yeah," Dawn said.

"Will there be a boy there you like?" Spike inquired further.

"Yeah," Dawn said, with a smile growing on her face.

"Eh-heh, that's what I thought," Spike said. "Boys. Dark theater. Nothin' good can come of it."

"Oh, please!" Dawn said. "It's not like that. Besides, Buffy had a REAL boyfriend when she was my age. He was older and had a motorcycle." She twisted a bit of her hair around her finger at the memory.

Spike looked unimpressed. "And where might this motorcycle fellow be now? Don't see him 'round here. Must not have been a very reliable bloke."

Dawn stuck out her tongue at the vampire. "All right. Point taken. What about you? Were you dating when you were my age?

Spike let out a chuckle. "Back in my time, Petlet, we didn't date the way you do. More like we cast admiring glances across the room."

The teen-ager was intrigued. "Was there anyone you cast an admiring glance at?" she asked.

"Yeah," Spike said, his eyes softening at the memory.

"And ... " Dawn said.

"And what?" Spike shot back.

"And, did she cast an admiring glance back at you?"

Spike was about to weave a tale of how ALL the women in the room had eyes for only him because he was ever-so-attractive. Instead, he was seized by a stroke of honesty and said quietly, "No, she didn't fancy me."

"Oh," Dawn said in sympathy for him. "I'm sorry, Spike."

"Doesn't matter now. Weren't supposed to be dredging up my past, anyhow." Spike said, getting back on track. "We were talking about you and boys. Promise me that you'll never sneak around behind Big Sis' back. You keep her informed. She deserves the truth. No matter what it is. Got it?"

"Yeah," Dawn said, looking up at the ceiling.

"And if you got any questions about the male of the species, come to see me about it. Don't ever feel embarassed-like. Nothing I haven't seen or heard over the years."

At that moment, a car pulled up in front of the house and the horn started beeping.

"I gotta go now." Dawn said, somewhat relieved to be getting out of the house as this talk was getting dangerously close to the EWWW territory of sex. "Uh, thanks, Spike."

"You got your cellphone on you for emergencies?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"How about money? Everything at those theaters cost so bloody much today. Got enough?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, really."

He looked at her intently and then dug around in his back jeans' pocket. He produced a rumpled ten dollar bill. "Here, take this just in case. Buy some extra sweets."

"Oh, Spike, I can't take your money," Dawn said hesitantly.

"Sure you can," he said. "I'd just waste it on smokes." He pressed it in her hand and smiled.

"Thanks Spike. You're the best," she said as she deposited the paper bill in her purse. Then, called out to the kitchen. "Buffy, I'm going now!"

Buffy took that as her cue to come through the kitchen door. She nodded at Spike nonchalantly and then said to Dawn, "OK, hon, have a good time. See you in a couple."

Dawn had gotten as far as the front porch when Spike called out to her. She turned half way around to see him pumping his boot as if he were at a hoedown.

"Remember ... stomping works," he called to her.

"Yeah, yeah," Dawn said as she waved over her head and ran for the waiting car.

Buffy looked at him. "Did I hear you give my sister money?" She was trying for a tone of unflappability. But it came out more accusatory.

"Don't worry, Slayer," he said defensively. "Wasn't stolen or nothing. Sometimes I make certain deliveries in town for Willy. You know, places where it wouldn't be safe for humans. He pays me. That's all."

Buffy wriggled her nose. "You're working for Willy? I don't know Spike ..."

Before she could finish, he cut her off. "Look, it's not like I have a lot of cash opportunities around here. And I need some to pay for a daily blood supply. If I could get by without, I would. But I can't." He turned to leave through the open front door.

"Spike, wait," Buffy said. "It's just that doing things for Willy ... I know that can dangerous. I wouldn't want you to get hurt. I mean, one day Dawn comes home from school and I hand her a shoebox. She asks me what it is, and I say, 'Spike.' Not a scenario of the good."

The blond vampire turned back around and nodded to her that yes, he did understand.

"I guess I didn't think about you actually needing money," Buffy said. "Definitely my bad. If you don't mind making deliveries, I'm sure Anya could use you for that at the Magic Box. Let me ask her."

Spike shrugged, as if he didn't care one way or the other. Then, he took the time to eye her from head to foot and smiled.

"What?" Buffy said, as she realized she was wearing a ratty sweat suit and not so much as a smidge of lipgloss on her face. "Oh, God, I must look like something the Hellmouth would cough up," she said, valiantly trying to fix her hair with her fingers.

Spike shook his head and then glanced down toward his feet. "No. I was thinking that you looked right pretty." He looked up at her and into her eyes. "Buffy, you don't need all that face paint. You have a natural beauty."

"OK," Buffy thought to herself. "Give him points for knowing the right things to say to a girl." Then she said out loud. "Uh ... I was just getting ready to watch a movie. Hence the bowl of popcorn I'm holding. You're welcome to sit and watch and munch, if you want."

Spike raised an eyebrow -- indicating that he most certainly did -- and peeled off his coat, tossing it on a nearby chair.

Buffy then walked over to the front door and closed it.

****************

They sat on what was a new couch, watching the movie together ... with the bowl of popcorn strategically placed between them. Just because Buffy had invited Spike to stay, she didn't want to give him any ideas. So, she sat hugging the right hand arm of the couch, and Spike pretty much sprawled over the rest of it.

She quickly learned that watching a show with Spike was an adventure. He couldn't help but give a running commentary with his own brand of pithy remarks.

Still, the experience was not an unpleasant one. As the credits popped up and she hit the stop button for the tape, Buffy said, "Oh. I just love that story."

Spike stared at her with bemusement. "Well, yeah, if you didn't mind that you could figure the whole movie out after the first five minutes. It was so bloody obvious they would hook up."

She let out a sigh, "Spike, yes, we know the two stars are going to get together at the end. Hence the name, 'romantic comedy.' Otherwise, it would be a 'romantic tragedy.'"

"Right," he said. "And this is entertaining because...?"

"Because," she said, "the enjoyment of a romantic comedy is derived in the journey toward the inevitable end. The entertainment comes as the audience observes these two characters who are obviously so right for one another ... but they are oblivious to it. We watch them banter, date the wrong people, fight the attraction and then finally wind up in each other's arms ... with a bang."

"Seems like they could just go directly to the bang and save a lot of trouble," Spike observed and winked at her.

Buffy rolled her eyes back at him.

"I will say this," Spike continued, "the little bloke was right. Men and women can never be just friends. Sex does always get in the way ... 'less, of course, the man is a poofter."

"Oh, please," Buffy said. "Men and women so too can be friends."

"Sure," Spike replied skeptically.

"How about me and Giles?" she said. "We're just friends."

"Pshaw! C'mon, Buffy, he's practically ready for Polident, AND he's your Watcher. Hardly a good example."

"OK, then," Buffy shot back. "What about Xander? We've been in 'just friend' status for years."

"Yeah," Spike said with a grin. Only because you wouldn't go for anything else. He had to settle for friendship."

"But he accepted it," she said. "That's the important part." Buffy thought for a second. "And there was a time ... back in high school ... when he could have taken advantage ... but he didn't. I was under a love spell, and I was SO ready to strip naked for him." She shook her head at the memory. "But he knew it wouldn't be right, and he wouldn't let me."

Spike narrowed his eyes and put a faux-pout on his lips. "You never offered to strip for me when we were under Red's marriage spell couple a years ago."

Buffy tossed her head and gave him a faux-sassy smirk in return, "I was too busy picking out the china pattern to be bothered with such trivialities!"

He chuckled and patted his legs. "You sure were consumed with the wedding preparations. That's for sure."

"Well," Buffy shrugged. "It's the only wedding of mine I'll ever get to plan. Matrimonial bells are not in Buffy's future."

Spike turned serious. "Rubbish! There's no reason why you can't get married someday."

"Right. Newsflash. Slayer here. Died twice. Don't invest in Uncle Ben's on my account."

"Granted, the Slayer part makes it harder. Most do die young. But it does happen. Time to time. Slayers getting married," Spike said confidently.

"What?" Buffy asked. "I don't remember ever hearing about Mrs. Slayers.

"Know what I'm talking about. Remember, I'm pretty much an expert on your kind. Also knew of at least one who had a baby ... during the Great War ... uh, World War I. Course, the Council of Watchers doesn't send out press releases on these things. Those wankers like their Slayers young, obedient and loyal to them. Period."

Buffy took this all in. "Thanks," she said in a soft voice, "for telling me. At least now I know the long walk down the aisle may not be totally out of the question." Then, she smiled at him and said, "You know, if you and I had gotten married, one thing's for certain, at least. There wouldn't have been any babies." I mean, with you being a vampire and all."

He tilted his head, shrugged and said one word, "Mebbe."

"Mebbe? What the hell does he mean by that?" Buffy thought. "Angel specifically told me it was impossible for a vampire to father children."

Before she could ask him to elaborate, however, he was reaching across her to get at the remote on the end table.

"Let's see what's on telly now," he said.

Just as he wrapped his fingers around it, Buffy huffed in a whiny voice, "Men! What is it with you men and the remote? And didn't anyone even teach you the word, 'please'? Give it back. Give it back right now." She said the words in mock-anger, obviously teasing him.

"Nuh-uh," Spike said with a growing grin on his lips. Want it back? Gotta take it back." He held it over his head in satisfaction.

"Oh, this can so be arranged," Buffy said. She crawled right on top of him, putting her left hand on his nose as she reached for the control with her right.

"OOOOWWWW!" yelled Spike. "Hey, watch the face!"

Just as her fingertips were about to reach their goal, the combined pressure of Spike leaning backward and Buffy leaning forward on him cause the couch to tip over -- taking Vampire, Slayer, popcorn bowl, the end table and a floor light with them in a big bang.

"Bloody Hell!" Spike growled.

*****************

Buffy opened her eyes. She was still on top of Spike as pieces of the wrecked living room lay about them. She looked at him and started to giggle.

"Care to let me in on the joke, Luv," he said to her. Their faces were mere inches from one another.

"You have popcorn pieces in your hair," she said with another giggle. "I'll get it." She reached toward his hair and started to pick out the kernels. She paused and looked deeply at him.

Until that moment, Buffy hadn't realized how much she had missed intimate contact with a man ... an attractive man ... a man who obviously wanted her ... a man whom she was beginning to like. "Wait," she thought. "What was that last part? Oh bag it; I'll think about that later."

Quite unexpectedly, she found herself stroking his hair in a very sensual manner.

Spike was startled by this turn of events, but certainly wasn't going to let the surprise get in the way of the pleasure of the moment. With his free arm, he squeezed her a little tighter to his body.

The two of them had been this close before, of course. There were those times during the marriage spell, when they couldn't keep their hands off one another. And all those other times when they were trying to kill one another. They hadn't been able to keep their hands off one another then, either. But this felt differently. It felt right to them both.

Buffy lowered the pitch of her voice and whispered huskily, "You've got one on your ear, too." Instead of picking this kernel, however, she leaned her head in and started licking it off. Then she took his lobe and teased it gently with her lips.

That was all the encouragement an aroused Spike needed. "Oh, Buffy," he said in a lowered voice as well. He reached up under her top. With the tips of his fingertips, he danced them lightly, up and down the Slayer's spine.

She tingled with pleasure and moaned in his ear. Then she lifted her head up, tilted it slightly and moved Lips of Buffy toward Lips of Spike.

They were ever-so-close to making ravenous contact when they were interrupted by a Click. Squeak. Lights. "Omigod!"

Dawn had arrived home, let herself in and turned on the hall light. She looked over to the living room to see that Hurricane Passion had swept through.

Buffy blanched, and Spike would have blushed had it been physically possible for him to do so.

The two of them scrambled to their feet as Dawn walked over with her fist to her mouth to keep from busting a gut.

"Uh, Dawn," Buffy said as she tugged on her top to get it down. "This wasn't what it looks like." She glanced wild-eyed at Spike.

"Right .... The couch just collapsed on us as we were sitting there eating popcorn. Shoddy workmanship if you ask me," Spike replied as he patted his hair with his hands.

"Did you even TRY to stomp on her foot?" Dawn said with fiendish glee. "Look. You two are both over 18. Not my business. I'm going up to my room. Go ahead and finish with the ... redecorating." The teen waggled her eyebrows at them both and bounded up the stairs.

"Oh, wonderful," Buffy said. "She is going to lord this over me like FOREVER." She looked at Spike, and saw he was apprehensive, as if he half-expected her to tell him off -- which was ridiculous, since she had been the one who initiated the makeout session.

"Guess I ought to be moving along," he said, swallowing hard and grabbing his duster from the chair.

For the second time that evening, Buffy called him back. "Spike, wait."

He turned and faced her. He wore an expression she knew well. It was the same one he had in the alley that night he told her about the two Slayers he had killed -- right before she told him he was beneath her. And then again when he had her chained up and begged for a crumb -- and she told him the only chance he had had was when she was unconscious.

Buffy thought to herself, "Is that the same face you had with the woman you told Dawn about, the one who didn't fancy you?" Then she spoke out loud to him. "I wanted to tell you I had a nice time tonight," she said with a sweet smile.

Spike brightened considerably.

"I thought it would be one long, lonely snoozefest. It was anything but," she continued. "It was fun .... And the next time Dawn goes out for an evening .... What I mean is, if you'd want to come over and ... watch another movie, I'd like that."

Now it was Spike's turn to smile, and he showed her some adorable dimples she'd somehow managed to miss up until now. "Yeah, be all right ... long as you let me pick the movie," he said, the smile turning into his trademark cocky half-grin.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, that should be an adventure."

And they both laughed easily.

"Well, night then, Buffy," he said.

"Night, Spike," she said as he turned to go, and she closed the door behind him.

Unbeknown to either of them was an eavesdropper at the top of the stairs. "Yes!" Dawn said to herself as she pumped her fist in the air. "It's about time!" She then hurried to her bedroom. She wanted to send an e-mail to all her friends to see which of them might invite her over to their house for a sleepover next Saturday night.

***************

As the door closed behind him, Spike didn't know whether to be ecstatic or astounded. Maybe both were in order.

He walked into the yard, lighted a cigarette and took a long drag on it as he looked back at the house. Not long ago, he would have been sorely disappointed to come so close to kissing Buffy and then be stymied.

But tonight. Tonight was something else. She had enjoyed being with him. He could feel it. She more or less said it. That was more important than any kiss.

Spike knew it wasn't love on her part. Not yet. "She fancies me, though," he thought to himself. That's something."

That's when he decided to stride over to Willy's and look for a good bar fight. He had a lot of tension built up that needed a release.

**************

Buffy started to absent-mindedly pick up the things around the living room that she and Spike had flung all over the place. Once she got the couch in an upright position again, she sat down on it and started to hug a throw pillow. She realized it was the one that Spike had been leaning against as they had watched the movie. His scent lingered on it. She hugged it tighter.

"What happened here tonight?" She asked herself, and she recalled what she was thinking after she ran her fingers through his hair. "I like Spike?" It took her a few moments to wrap her mind around the question. Then, she answered herself, "I like Spike."

At one time, she would have been repulsed by such a feeling. Now, it seemed very natural -- although she was fairly certain Xander would squeal like a girly-man if he could hear her thoughts right now. That brought a smile to her lips.

What had her Spirit Guide told her to do? "Risk the pain." When she had been standing on that tower platform and made the decision to jump into the portal in place of Dawn, she had assumed she was doing just what the Guide had instructed her.

But the pain of death is nothing, really. Brief bad pain. Then, it's over.

Living with pain is the hard part. You put your heart on the line, and your boyfriend turns into a monster. You do it again, and the next one leaves you standing alone on a helicopter pad.

But what's the alternative? Become someone like Kendra? No friends. No family. Living only for your duty. For the kill.

"Risk the pain," Buffy said. She didn't know where this new thing with Spike was going to take her. But she was no longer afraid to find out.

"But first," she thought, "I need a shower. A cold one. Oh yeah."

-- The End --