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Authors Chapter Notes:
Thank you Im_bloody_English and Tanit for the betaing, and I apologize – as usual – for some stubbornness you’ll notice there :-) I love you, ladies. Thank you Blackoberst for being here in any and every way possible at this point. I love you, baby.


Something happened yesterday, so the writing of “It doesn’t end with a wish” (sequel to “If Wishes Were Spikes…”) is pushed back a bit. I apologize, but promise to get back to it as soon as possible. I also want to apologize for not having replied to your wonderful reviews. I hope by now you know how much they mean to me and that you don't take offense. I will respond to all of them as soon as things settle down! Meantime, this little ficlet is all done, so the third - and final - part will be posted this weekend. I hope you like it! (And Henri, le smut is on the way, I swear!)


Chapter 2.


That morning he wasn’t late. He was there before her, at the table she always picked, grin and cups of mocha flavored coffee in place. She had to put an effort into not rushing her steps, barely managing to seem nonchalant as she sashayed his way in her cutest jeans.


“You’re late,” he said, still grinning.


“Well then, I guess we’re even,” she replied, mirroring his smile before taking a seat.


She could feel his eyes gliding over her while she busied herself with her cup of delicious coffee. If he’d only brought her the steaming beverage naked – preferably in bed – she could die a happy woman.


“You’re beautiful,” he said matter-of-factly out of the blue, and she chocked, trying not to sputter java all over him. “Bollocks, I really have to time my comments better if I don’t want to end up dating the dead.” He grimaced at his own attempt at humor.


“Dating?”


“We weren’t—I mean… I thought that’s what we were doing. Of course, if you didn’t… Oh, bollocks!”


“No, no!” She tried to tell him she did; she wanted to. Seeing his crestfallen look, she rushed to explain. “I mean, I did. I do. Dating. Of the good, that. I just didn’t realize… ‘cause you weren’t… we didn’t…” She thought it wrong to yell, “You didn’t kiss me, why didn’t you kiss me?” so instead she opted for a much more mature puckering of her lips, accompanied by smooching noises.


“Oh. Ohhh!” And he just leaned in and gave her the sweetest kiss she’d ever dreamed of. His lips were soft as they glided over hers timidly, seemingly afraid of crossing a line that, unbeknownst to William, Buffy desperately wanted crossed. When he sucked her lower lip between his, she let her tongue slip out and trace his mouth, something that apparently drove him crazy. Timid William was gone in a flash. This version of him lifted her out of her seat and onto his lap to straddle him. One of his hands went to the small of her back, pressing her against his body, the other fisted in her hair, holding her head in place as he started devouring her mouth with something akin to desperation. “Fuck, I’ve been wantin’ to do this for days.”


“What?” she mumbled with a hasty shallow breath.


“Been wantin’ to kiss you so bad, every soddin’ day I saw you here.” His voice was gruff and his accent had switched from the refined British she was familiar with, to a rough accent that turned her on even more than his unbelievable cuteness.


“Why didn’t you?” she asked. More questions later, she decided; now was kissy time.


Apparently, he didn’t see things the same way, because he drew back and ran his fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her face. “I left England because I screwed up. Didn’ want to screw up again.” Planting a kiss on her nose, he answered the question in her eyes. “Was the wrong woman, and I went in head first. She was married. M’ Mum almost couldn’ take the shame. So I left. Came here and reinvented myself.” He gave her a watery smile. “My real self bleaches his hair, wears lots of leather and smokes. Oh, and his vocabulary?” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Le’s just say he’s a bad, rude man.”


“Can I meet him?”


Her question took him by surprise. “Not sure that’s a good idea. He usually gets me in trouble.” He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow. “Won’t you yell at me for lyin’ to you?”


“Nope. I get the whole need to reinvent. That’s what college is all about.” She smiled and then wiggled in his lap. “Can I meet him? Please? I wanna see how much of this William is real.”


“There’s only this William. The bleached guy’s name is Spike.”


“Like for real?” She giggled when he nodded solemnly, then stopped abruptly when he mouthed ‘Buffy’ and cocked both eyebrows.


His expression turned somber. “Know that I never lied to you. There’s just more than what you’ve seen.”


“Ok.” She leaned forward to kiss him again, but his hands in her locks kept her a hair’s breadth away from her target.


“Ok?” He sounded incredulous.


“Ok.”


“Just like that?”


“Yup.” This time she managed to kiss him, if only briefly, taking advantage of his surprise.


He once again stopped what was so much fun for the not so much fun of talking. “Don’t you want to know all about it? Make sure I am who I say I am? That my past is somethin’ you can live with?”


She thought about it for only a second, then said, “I don’t have to live with it. You do. If you’re ok with it, so am I. But I wanna see your other self. Want to get to know the real you. I just don’t need to know everything today.” She shrugged. “Now can we get with the kissing again?”


It just wasn’t meant to be.


Men are so weird. They complain about women bitching and moaning about everything, being nosy, and wanting to have those long talks about feelings and truth… and then they have a woman straddling them, who needs to be kissed and touched, and can wait for the other stuff to be talked about at a later point, and what do they do? They cup said woman’s ass, and just as she is getting happy and thinks they’re going to get with the smoochies again, they use their hold to lower her to her feet as they stand up, and say, “Let’s go.”


Buffy replied the only way she could at the moment. “Huh?”


Grabbing her hand, William started towards the cafeteria’s front door. “You meet Spike, if you like him—if you like me as him, we’ll… get with the kissin’ again.”


She rolled her eyes and followed, awkwardly trying to keep up with his long, determined strides.



~~~~~*~~~~~



When they reached the campus’ parking and she realized they were heading towards an old and battered black Desoto, she came to an abrupt halt, almost making William stumble. “Where exactly are you taking me?”


“Town,” he answered, as if that was the most natural thing in the world.


“I thought you wanted to show me what you used to be like.” She emphasized ‘be’, by drawing an invisible circle around her face with her index finger. “Or are we going for the bad, rude thing? Did that involve bar-brawls? ‘Cause it’s too early in the day for that.”


William leered at her, an expression that should have seemed foreign on the face of a man who had seemed so sensitive and sweet up to mere hours ago, but suited him just fine. More than fine. Buffy wanted to jump him. “It did, but don’ worry, kitten. We’re not goin’ for that.”


“Then what?”


“Got some shoppin’ to do.”


Well, he’d used the magic word, the one that every Valley girl knew to worship and respect. Never question shopping. That was the rule.


“Well then, lead the way!”


He did. He also opened the car door, as a gentleman should. Buffy fell for him a bit more as she buckled up, secretly keeping her fingers crossed that however different his Spike persona was from what she’d seen up to that point, it wouldn’t make the butterflies in her stomach go away.



~~~~~*~~~~~



“OK, for your information, going to a mini-mart does not shopping make.”


William chuckled at how fierce the tiny girl in front of him looked, with her arms crossed and an eyebrow straining to reach her hairline. “How come it doesn’? Aren’ we here to shop?” He feigned innocence.


“But shopping is used for pretty things.” Noticing that the staring-him-down approach didn’t faze him, Buffy went for pouting. That never failed her.


It didn’t fail her now, either, as William wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her flush against him, whispering, “Look at that lip. Gonna get it,” before actually getting it. Only the sound of someone clearing his throat made them pull apart, and Buffy decided then that William must be a lust-demon. One that possibly had haze-inducing abilities, because she had to try to keep upright once he stopped kissing her.


“Can I help you, or are you like here to declare your love or something?” the slightly nasal voice of the store assistant reached her ears. She turned to see a guy, possibly a couple of years younger than her, look at William with admiration. “’Cause a convenience store? Not the most romantic of places. Then again, if you’ve found your Princess Leia-”


William decided it was time to cut in. “No declarations today, mate. Now, be a good boy and help us find what we’re lookin’ for?”


Buffy was sure there was more said as she and her date followed the incessantly chattering guy down an isle, but her brain was stuck on William’s use of today.



~~~~~*~~~~~



“Funny little guy back at the store, huh?” Buffy was sitting on the rim of the bathtub, her legs dangling on the outside, the heels of her feet rhythmically thumping against the tiled surface.


William glowered at her from his perch on the toilet seat, but the look lost its effect since the top of his head was wrapped in a fluffy, thankfully plain white towel, turban-style. “You wouldn’ find him funny if he’d asked for your phone number and called you his Han Solo.”


She couldn’t contain a giggle before saying in a mock-sweet voice, “But Han was so cool! And you must have enjoyed being so obviously lusted after.” That earned her another glare, and what she suspected was a growl. She started laughing even harder, her whole body shaking with it, and had to anchor herself with a steel grip on the tub’s ledge in order not to tumble inside. She didn’t find it all that funny, but she was extremely jittery for so many reasons and needed an outlet for her nerves.


She was in the bathroom of the man she really liked, as in falling-in-love-liked, with said guy. Who was also apparently attracted to her. And only wore a pair of boxer shorts. And had the body of a Greek God as it would have been sculpted by Praxiteles on his most inspired day. Instead of tackling him to the ground and ravaging him, however, she was childishly teasing him.


And when would he take the damned towel off?


As if on cue, William looked at his watch – the motion doing all sorts of delicious things the muscles in his arm – and said, “Think I can rinse it now.”


“Can I help?”


“You’ll have to. I’ll kneel in front of the tub and lean forward. You rinse it well, and then wash it with shampoo.” Realizing that sounded a bit too much like an order, he added, “That is, if you don’ mind.”


Mind that she’d have him on his knees while she massaged his scalp, his naked shoulder touching her leg? “Nope, don’t mind at all.” She was proud of her ability to refrain from doing an impromptu happy-dance. As he started taking the towel off she warned, “If you do that you may get peroxide in your eyes, which, big ouchie. Let me.”


He just shrugged and obediently knelt where she pointed, letting her unwrap his hair while he reached for the faucets, fiddling with the water temperature.


The moment the towel came off, Buffy jumped back and yelled, “Oh no! Crap!”


Her exclamation scared him. “What? Does it look shitty?” He tried not to sound panicked – or girly – and hoped he managed it. He knew peroxide was an evil thing that could turn your hair a phosphorescent yellow if you didn’t time it right.


“No, no, not your hair. My jeans. Crap.”


“What about them?” He thought he already knew, but he couldn’t just turn and look. And his head was burning.


“I got this stuff on them. It’ll ruin the color, have to wash them. Um…”


He could hear the worry in her voice, so he offered a solution, braving the sting on his scalp. “First door on the left is my room. Second drawer in the closet you can get a pair of shorts. Better change your top too, this stuff is sneaky.”


“Thank you.” Relief was evident in her voice, but she didn’t move from next to him.


“Well, go, woman. Before it soaks in.”


“I will, just…” She sounded thoughtful. “Yup,” she said, as if agreeing with herself on an inner debate. “You better turn with your back to the tub, or it could run into your eyes while I’m getting changed.”


“Yes, Mum.”


He chuckled when she lightly toed his ass and said indignantly, “Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”


All changed, having resisted the urge to look through all of his drawers, or maybe sniff his sheets, she returned to the bathroom to pour copious amounts of water on her jeans in the sink, repeatedly saying how she hoped to salvage them. Finally done with that, it was time to do William’s hair, and she had to wonder if that had been a good idea, when she neared him and noticed his hands on his lap, framing his crotch.


Although she was right that throwing his head back was the best way for her to wash his hair, a problem became apparent as soon as she leaned over him to get the showerhead. She was a bit to his left, but still too close to his face. He kept his eyes closed, but he could feel the heat of her body caressing his skin, and his body’s reaction to that was almost instant. After carefully washing his hair twice, when she leaned over him again to put the showerhead back into its holder, he peeked, and the sight had his mouth watering. She wasn’t to his side any more. Her toned, tan legs were outside his, and the top she now wore – one of his very few white wife-beaters – was tight and had gotten splashed, making her nipples stand out through the thin material. Stand out just a couple of inches from his face.


He groaned. Even if William could be a bigger man and ignore the hardened buds, Spike would never pass such an opportunity. And she had asked to meet him.




Tbc.


Chapter End Notes:
Please let me know if you liked!



Oh, and for Praxiteles, check this out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Praxiteles




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