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Authors Chapter Notes:
Thanks to DawnofMe for the lovely and inspiring banner, thanks to SpuffyWonder for the challenge and big thanks to SanityFair for all her help beta-reading. *Hugs* As always, all mistakes are my own and I still do not own Whedon's characters and use them only for fun. The story is mine though and is completed! (Yeah, I'm excited to say that.) I will post a chapter each Saturday and Wednesday until I run out.


She couldn’t believe her eyes. He was clear across the room. Still, there was no doubt in her mind; the bleached hair, the pouty lips, the great ass—it was definitely him. She’d spent years imagining seeing him again, but she still wasn’t ready. Her stomach churned and her knees shook. Hurt, delight, and anger battled for the top spot in her heart and mind; anger won. It didn’t help that he looked great. If she’d been anywhere else, she probably would have left. But, she couldn’t. Buffy Summers was on a cruise ship, and it had left port two hours earlier. She was definitely stuck. The vacation that she’d spent months saving up for had just become five days stuck on a ship with William “Spike” Pratt. She groaned aloud and went to her tiny cabin.

She dropped on the small bed and tried not to remember the days she had considered him a friend. It all came back anyway. Buffy had been a freshman at Northwood College when she’d met William. She’d been a sophomore when she had finally admitted, if only to herself, she was in love with him. He’d broken her heart, but she had kept her pride. She was sure he had no idea how much he had hurt her. The key, she decided, was to make sure things stayed that way. Seeing him would probably ruin her vacation. However, as long as she didn’t let him see that, Buffy figured she would be fine. The thought made her angry. It was ridiculous. Four years had passed, there was no reason she should still be so emotional about the whole thing. Buffy knew she wasn’t the same girl she’d been; she had come into her own in the years after school. She loved her job as a counselor at the local middle school. She had no problem attracting nice, successful men and dated regularly. The almost relationship she’d had with William shouldn’t have been more than a blip in her memories. That it wasn’t, only made her more determined to make sure he thought it was.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy stood up and went over to the mirror. A plan was forming in her mind. It simply wasn’t reasonable to avoid him all week. It wasn’t a huge ship; they were bound to run into each other at some point. She decided to control that meeting on her own; the encounter wouldn’t come as a surprise to her. She would be vigilant in her awareness and never look anything less than her best. Buffy ran cold water on a washcloth, placing it on her face to get rid of the swelling caused by, what she swore were the last tears she would ever let someone with the ridiculous nickname, Spike, cause her.

An hour later, her blonde hair swishing in bouncy waves around her shoulders, Buffy tried to look casual as she made her way to the ship’s nightclub. She was dressed to stand out, in a short, tight black dress and heels that were almost too high to walk in on solid ground, much less on the slight vibration of the deck. She’d applied her make-up expertly so her lips looked full and shiny, and her hazel eyes looked as green as a cat’s. She wondered if he would even recognize her. Northwood College was small, rural and informal. She’d probably worn heels less than ten times during her whole four years there, including the graduation ceremony. She hadn’t started lightening her hair until after Spike had graduated, and she’d never worn make-up. The thought he might not recognize her made her sick to her stomach. She wondered if she would have to pretend not to recognize him the whole week too.

She shouldn’t have been worried. He saw her right away.

Spike was in the zone. He was doing what he loved, singing his own songs to an appreciative audience. Sure, the gig was on a cruise ship, but it was still a gig, and it was going well. He saw her walk in and nearly lost his breath. He barely managed to finish the song. He’d thought about seeing her again dozens of times. However, in his fantasies he had made it to the big time and was playing to sell-out stadium crowds. He would be heading backstage, see a guard giving her a hard time and give the signal to let her come back. In Spike’s fantasy, she would come up to him all shy and whisper that she’d been wrong about him, but she had always loved him. He would pull her in for a kiss and time would stand still. Spike figured he should have known better. Of course, she would see him singing in the cheesy club during the cruise ship gig. He knew it would only reinforce what they had both always known; she was out of his league.

Spike heard himself telling his band mates to take a quick break before he even thought it through. He couldn’t help himself. She was like a siren pulling him to his death, desirable despite the obvious danger. He rested his guitar against a stool and walked directly to her. “Of all the cruise ship bars in the all the world…”

Buffy forced herself to smile. “Hello, Spike.”

He nearly frowned. She’d never called him Spike. She had made it clear that she thought it was a stupid nickname, and even when everyone else at school used it, she had still called him William. He’d pretended that it annoyed him, but it hadn’t. “Buffy.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew at least one of the guys from his band had followed him. He turned to see Oz and Charles looking concerned. Spike knew he was going to have to explain why he had cut their set by two songs and bee-lined toward Buffy. He shrugged and made a small gesture toward her. “Here she is boys; the one who got away.” He grinned at her with more confidence than he felt.

Buffy saw red. She couldn’t believe he was playing it all flirty. She arched her eyebrow and turned toward his band mates. “What Spike means is, about a million years ago he considered sleeping with me, but decided I simply wasn’t worth the risk to his reputation. His loss, not mine.” Satisfied by the look of shock on his face, she turned and walked out of the bar.


Chapter End Notes:
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