The cool water felt like an icy version of heaven on her bare skin. She tilted her head back and held her breath as she completely immersed herself in the dark, silky water of the lake. Her lake.

She found it a couple of years ago when she was wandering in the back woods of her house. It was nighttime and she was attempting to escape the hellhole that was “home”. In quotations because the little cabin in the forest did not count as a home in Buffy’s mind, no matter how hard Joyce tried to implant the thought in her head. She was sixteen at the time and wanted to run away from the perpetually yelling voices of Hank and Joyce, her so-called parents she refused to call Mom and Dad.

At the time, when she stumbled upon this paradise, she also discovered what she liked to call “the love of her life”. This True Love being in the form of a boy-man with white-blonde hair and a shapely butt. True Love was entangled in the arms of a dark-haired girl Buffy began to see as The Witch. She had never seen two people make love before – Joyce made sure of that – and was entranced when she walked in on the two lovers lying on the short strip of sand that could barely be called a beach.

They looked so graceful, so beautiful, so completely absorbed into each other, they didn’t even notice a third party in their love-scene. Buffy didn’t make a sound and hid behind a thick-trunked tree as she watched them. They were both pale and seemed to glow in the moonlight. The Witch’s hair splayed across the ground as she arched her neck and moaned in pleasure. She looked more like a Goddess and Buffy felt a pang of jealousy mixed in with sadness. True Love had muscles in his back that Buffy didn’t know was possible and she imagined what it would feel like to run her hand across that beautifully etched marble…

Many times after that, she would come back out to the lake, hoping to catch them again – to catch him again. She recognized them in school as SpikeandDrusilla, but somewhat to her dismay, she remained invisible to them. It wouldn’t surprise her if everyone remained invisible to them, they were so into each other.

She remembered the day when Spike got into the accident. The day was so significant in her life it deserved to be marked. The Accident. The Car Accident. After that day his once magnificent face was marred by angry streaks of burn scars across his entire left side. After that day there was no more SpikeandDrusilla, which should have made Buffy happy. In a twisted way, it did, but she never saw Spike after The Breakup.

Buffy shook her head, trying to get the past out of her mind, and succeeded in getting some water in her ears. She, along with Drusilla and the rest of the school, forgot about Spike after The Accident followed by The Breakup. He was a subject never brought up again and never questioned. There were rumors that he moved away or that he was being home-schooled or that he was in prison or that he committed suicide.

But it was all forgotten. She was now back for her summer break after her first year in Harvard and extremely happy to be away from the crazy Boston life. And right this second she was skinny-dipping in the cool lake, enjoying herself and relaxing.

Buffy closed her eyes and dipped her head into the water. Ah. Refreshing. She wished every moment could be like this… quiet, serene, naked, exposed.

When she emerged and took a deep breath, she suddenly got the sensation that someone was watching her. She tried to shake it off – she had been getting this sensation all throughout her vacation.

Buffy swam over to the bank, got out of the water, and put her bikini back on before wrapping her body with a warm towel. She was about to head back to the house when she saw it.

The white-blonde hair of True Love aka Spike. Or some way around that. He was hiding behind a tree and she felt her breath catch in her throat and a warmth spread through her body. The white hair disappeared.

She held her breath and tip-toed across the sandy ground until she reached the tall tree she saw True Love behind. She slowly made her way around and found herself face to face with the man that had been on her mind for the many lonely nights she had spent in her bed with her hand between her thighs. Now, he was sitting, leaning against the tree she used to hide behind with his eyes closed.

“Spike?” she asked softly, she could barely hear herself. He opened his eyes, lifting them to hers and visibly clamped his teeth together. Her heart wrenched at the scars that deformed the side of his lovely face. They were beautiful.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Was taking a walk… didn’t expect anyone to be out here. I wasn’t, you know,… watching or …”

He stopped and it was clear that he was lying. She got to her knees then sat down across from him, clenching her towel around her body harder with her hands.

“It’s okay,” she smiled slightly.

There was a silence and they both listened to the cricket’s chorus. Buffy had to take some time to collect her thoughts before she made a horrible mistake.

“I don’t know your name,” he spoke first, focusing his eyes on a patch of grass.

“Buffy,” she told him, picking at the grass he was staring at and feeling a little bit hurt at the same time. “You’ve been watching me.”

He glanced up at her for a second, his eyes hardening.

“I was walking by,” he said, flatly.

“No, I mean for a while now.”

He didn’t reply for a while. Finally, he said, “I liked looking at you. You remind me of what I used to have.”

The Witch? Buffy didn’t like the sound of that. “What did you used to have?”

“Something beautiful.”

She shook her head, “I’m not beautiful.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, a twisted smile appearing on his face. “You’re hideous like me.”

She moved a little closer to him so that their toes were touching. Her bare ones to the tip of his boots.

“Then why were you watching me?” she reached out her hand to play with the hem of his frayed dark jeans.

“I like to.”

“Okay. You know, I used to watch you, too.”

He looked into her eyes now, trying to see what she was saying. Then, he scoffed, “Back when I was beautiful?”

She scooted up even more until their legs passed each other and her body was about a foot away from his.

Quietly, she lifted her hand up to the side of his face. She paused when he flinched. “Can I?” she asked in a whisper and he looked away.

Her fingers lightly traced the burns from his forehead to the hollow of his cheek. Then they traveled farther and brushed against his lower lip. “You’re still beautiful.”

He pulled his head back and pushed her hand away. “That’s a line noone’s ever been cruel enough to feed me. Tell me, Goldilocks,” he sneered, “if I were standing next to that big poof you bring to your house day after day, would I still be beautiful? Is your man still in your house?”

“There’s nothing between us,” she felt like laughing, but he was seriously beginning to annoy her.

“I don’t care.”

She got up to her feet and glared down at him. “Sorry to have bothered you. I’d appreciate it if you stay away from me.”

With that, she stalked away towards the house. She only got a few steps before she heard his voice call out.

“Wait.”

Why should she wait? Her feet slowed down, but she had nothing to do with it. If she was in control right now, she would have been in the house already. She heard him get up and heard his footsteps come towards her.

“Sorry,” he said when he was standing next to her. She wanted her head to stop spinning. Her inner thighs were aching and she wanted him so badly.

He reached for her arm and she let him take it and turn her around to face him. His face illuminated by the moonlight made her think of a monster. People who see the left side of his face cringe.

But she couldn’t grimace at him. He was True Love. Spike. She wanted to be the girl that was lying under him with his naked body on top of her. She wanted to be his so badly and as much as she could lie to herself, the few years that passed hadn’t erased this desire.

His arms snaked around her waist and she tightened her hold on the towel.

“What if I told you I loved you,” she whispered to his chest, secretly willing the vulnerability away from her voice.

He bent his head down and kissed her forehead. She lifted her face up to him and saw the complicated twisting of his skin and fell more in love. Their lips collided almost by accident for the shortest moment of her life. His eyes widened and her breathing quickened.

She unclenched her hand from her towel to bring both arms around his neck. The towel stay put – they were that close. She brought her lips to his again and this time it was different. Heat. Passion. His tongue slipped passed her lips and he pressed his body to hers, grinding his groin against her, showing her how much he wanted this. Her.

She felt herself being tipped back and gently laid on the sand as they were kissing. His hands began to wonder along her waist. One slid into the opening of the towel and discovered the bare skin of her stomach and the other one was rubbing against her thigh. The towel fell apart.

He kissed down her neck to her collarbone, repeating her name over and over again as a silent mantra. His hand cupped her breast and rubbed through the material of the bikini.

Their clothes were forgotten and flung to the side as both of their needs grew exponentially and the appeal of taking things slow and steady began to seem very silly.

She felt his body enter hers and begin a steady rhythm as she looked up into his face. She wanted to see his eyes, but they were closed, so she turned her face to the sky and saw the moon gazing back at her.

After so much want and need, when it finally happened, it wasn’t what it seemed. They came down together and he turned away from her as he fell back in the sand.

For a while they lay next to each other in silence, staring at the stars. Then he got up, gathered his clothes, and walked away.

Chapter Two

“Look who decided to wake up today,” Angel cooed to the baby sitting on the high-chair as Buffy entered the kitchen of the cottage, hair still disheveled from sleeping and eyes puffy from drowsiness.

“Shut up,” she growled, making her way to the coffeemaker.

Conner, the baby, giggled and waved his small, pudgy hands around, successfully landing drips of baby-food on Angel’s shirt.

“Aww, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed didn’t they?” he continued baby-talking Conner and smiling, “Why don’t we give Aunty Buffy a nice big kiss, huh Big Boy?”

He lifted Conner off his chair and Buffy squealed as she saw Conner’s food-covered mouth nearing her face. He landed a sloppy kiss on her cheek and grinned happily at her. Buffy couldn’t help but laugh at her nephew and brother’s matching expressions as she feigned being grossed-out by the baby-kiss.

After Angel settled Conner down, he turned around and asked, “So, where were you last night? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Uh..” Buffy busied herself, going to the cupboard to look for breakfast food and utensils. “Went swimming… and fell asleep by the lake.”

“Ahh…” her brother nodded and raised a suspicious eyebrow. “So I’m guessing the hickey was just, you know, some blowfish who decided to give you a smooch?” He pointed at her neck and Buffy blushed.

“Mind your own business, Angel,” she muttered, lamely. Angel rolled his eyes and continued to feed Conner, who was contentedly murmuring baby sounds and staring at the two of them.

“Right, because that’s always a good idea,” he said as he wiped some food off the baby’s chin. “I’ll just mind my own business and – did you use protection?”

Buffy coughed and accidentally snorted on the cereal she had fixed for herself. “Pretending I didn’t hear that…”

“Buffy! I’m serious. I wont have you getting pregnant on –“

“Okay! Leaving now,” she got up and took her bowl outside to the balcony of the cabin that overlooked the lake. Or at least the more open part of the lake.

………

After sliding the glass door behind her, effectively blocking out the nagging tones in Angel’s voice, she closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh air of the morning. There was a breeze that slightly blew on her hair, tickling her back.

All the memories of the night before came back to her. His hands on her body, his lips on her body, his body on her body… in her body. Him looking at her with the eyes that looked black in the moonlight. Him half smiling with the good side of his face.

Him leaving without a word.

Her heart was begging to be broken and upset, but her lips couldn’t help smiling. It all added to the mystery of him.

“God,” she said out loud to the trees surrounding her. They rustled their leaves as if they were acknowledging her presence and smiling happily at her. “Did I really tell him I loved him? Is that even possible?”

The branches moved up and down, then sideways, and Buffy realized how stupid it was to think that they might’ve actually given her an answer. And how stupid it might have looked to an onlooker. Her head snapped to the left and for a second, she thought she saw a figure in black, standing at the edge of the trees, right by the rocky bend of the lake, partially hidden in shadows.

Then the shadows moved and she realized there was nobody standing there.

………

“Wasting your time in front of the television again?” a sharp and very-annoying voice shrilled out from behind the couch where Spike was lounging, catching a rerun of Passions – his favorite show.

“What do you want, Cec?” he asked, his voice flat. His sister, Cecily, marched in front of him, blocking his view.

“I want you to find a job!” She glared. “All you ever do is sit around, watch TV, eat food, waste the money I work so hard to make – “

“No. Now move, you’re blocking my view,” he stared past her as if she wasn’t even there.

Cecily grew silent for a few moments, and in that few moments, she really saw him. She always really saw him. Every morning, she really saw him, whenever they did this routine of her yelling at him and him monotone-ing back to her. She saw his firm jaw, stubbornly set and locked, saw his asymmetric face, with one side beautiful, one side torn to shreds, saw his empty eyes that could see perfectly, yet looked at nothing, saw his hair, once slicked back in an attempt to be bad-ass, now stiffly flung about his head as if he didn’t give a damn.

She huffed a few more times, then whirled around to go to work.

When he heard the front door slam and the engine of the car outside start, he allowed himself to relax. As usual, he was watching the television, but for some reason, today, his mind was wandering off to a subject he hadn’t thought about for years.

Sex.

Sex with someone other than Mr. Hand.

The thought of it made him shiver. It had been so long since he had touched a woman, he almost forgot what it felt like. She made him remember and it chilled him to the bone.

Every bone in his body still ached for Drusilla. Drusilla, who had left him after the accident, telling him that he had become too withdrawn and she couldn’t live with his depression. His hand unconsciously reached up to touch the ragged, rough scars on his cheeks.

Buffy had called the scars beautiful. Buffy. What a strange name, he thought, smiling a little bit. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her. All he could remember was the way the moonlight reflected on her smooth skin and made her glow a slight blue in the dark. He remembered how her body warmed his and wondered how such a heating sensation could cause him to tremble as if her hands were ice cubes running down his stomach. Spike closed his eyes and relived the feeling of her flesh under him, the soft, hard breathing, the way she whispered his name when she came, the look in her eyes.

The way she asked him, “What if I told you I loved you…”

He couldn’t answer that.

………
………
………

It was nighttime again, and Buffy was back out by the lake. She didn’t know what to expect. Maybe she was hoping he would show up and answer all her questions – the spoken ones and the unspoken ones. Maybe she was hoping he could make her feel good again, because she desperately needed it.

Maybe she was just out for another nightly swim.

The night made everything look like a dark blue, with silver shimmers and white gleams. She took off her bathing suit and stepped into the water.

It was cold. Chilling. It made goosebumps spread throughout her body, so she brought her arms up around herself. Buffy took another step, then another, and she wouldn’t allow herself to breathe until she was finally immersed in the smooth water.

………

She was swimming again. Nude. He had lost track of time, but he knew he had been watching her for a while. Everything about her sang grace. The way her body glided through the water, how her hands came up above her head as if she were dancing.

Finally, he stepped out of the shadows. She didn’t notice him, so he slipped off his jacket and placed it neatly on the course sand.

Spike wondered when she would look his way and realize that she had company. The second the thought left his mind, she looked up. He saw her expression change from shock to embarrassment to something resembling a smile. It encouraged him, so he lifted his shirt off his body, unbuckled his jeans, slid them down, then tossed his clothes aside.

She wasn’t moving anymore. Just standing there in the lake, neck-deep, staring at him as he undressed and slowly approached her.

When he was finally about three feet from her, she said, “Hi.” Her voice was soft and it came out barely above a whisper. He smiled at that and moved closer until she had to look up to see his face.

“Hello, love,” his voice teased a little. Half serious, half amused. She wanted to ask him questions, but before she could get the chance, he tipped her chin up and kissed her.

She pulled away after a few seconds, breathing hard. He traced her face with his index finger, brought it down slowly down her neck to her collarbone, then let it disappear under the water between her breasts. His touch made her quiver.

His hands wrapped around her waist lightly and brought her body closer his. They ran up and down her back, enjoying the pure feminine feel of her. They kissed again. She felt his desire on her stomach and it excited her.

She draped her arms around his neck, then pushed off the ground, using the buoyancy of the water to propel her up until her legs were wrapped around his waist. He firmly held her, letting the water keep them both up and balanced.

“I want you,” she whispered heatedly in his ear, before licking it slowly. His hands made their way to her private spot, scoping her out, rubbing against her clit, feeling her slickness before sliding a smooth finger into her. He closed his eyes and slightly groaned in anticipation when he felt the hotness surrounding his finger in contrast to the cold water. Buffy widened her eyes and gasped. She felt the waves of the water entering her as he added another finger, contradicting the heat mounting in her.

His thumb was rubbing against her most sensitive area and his fingers pumped in and out of her channel and she felt all the warmth in her body directed to her core, as her thighs clung to his waist like a lifeline and her arms squeezed his shoulders even harder. She was most definitely going to lose it.

Seeing the expression on her face made his need to be inside her grow exponentially, so he slid out his fingers and used them to direct himself to her opening. She instinctively slid down, crying out a little bit as he filled her completely.

“Fuck,” he breathed in sharply, then out, tickling her neck. They started moving together slowly, trying to take it slow and make the intimate pleasure last as long as possible, but soon, their bodies began demanding more, more, faster, harder, and soon, they were pounding against each other, clawing at each other, scratching, pulling, gentleness be damned.

They climaxed together, each feeling like they were going to explode from the overload of sensations. When they came down, Buffy felt like she was going to fall back into the water, but Spike held onto her, saying her name softly into her ear.

Buffy felt the emotions in her barreling up from her chest, and though she had promised to herself never to go to such a level as crying after sex… she did.

A/N: I'm going to take a few liberties with the medical procedures, etc.. so just bear with me.

Chapter Three

They were lying on their backs a few feet away from the water. The sand sticking to their bare, wet skin was uncomfortable, but they made no move to wash off or dress. Buffy blinked out the tears from her eyes and Spike lay next to her, staring at the sky.

She wanted so much to get up and leave without a word, like he had done to her the night before. But she couldn’t. Invisible vines rooted her to the ground. The heat coming from his body kept her where she was. She wanted to look at him, but she couldn’t.

A few more silent moments passed before Spike sat up to leave.

“So that’s it?” Buffy asked, voice hoarse from crying. Her eyes remained planted to the motions of the lake. Hearing her voice made him freeze and Spike turned to look at her for the first time since they moved from the water to land.

“You want more?” He asked her, flatly. Inside, he wanted her to tell him to stay with her. Hold her. But the inner voice was strangled down and strapped in with his conflicting emotions. For the first time in years, he had forgotten about his ruined face and it all now came barreling back to him. An onslaught of hurt and hate blasted him in the chest during this moment of vulnerability. It kept his voice hard and cruel.

“No,” she said, softly. “Yes. Maybe.”

Her indecision kept his head spinning and he was glad for the darkness that surrounded them like a blanket. He was glad that her head was turned away from him so that she wasn’t looking at his face, because he knew that if she looked at him, she would be revolted. She would want him to leave, then she would not come back the next night, or the night after that. But, something inside him protested, she had called the scars beautiful.

“Tell me,” his voice was soft this time. She sighed and shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

That was all he needed. He got up, wiped the sand off his body, and picked up his clothes. Buffy propped herself up, then finally turned to look at him standing off to the side, naked and pale, almost glowing under the stars.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” she asked him, hopeful. Bitter.

He started walking off without looking her way. Finally he stopped and said to nobody in particular, “If that’s what you want.” Then he disappeared in the shadows.

Buffy sat there and stared at where his body was moments before. Emptiness filled her and swallowed her whole, but the heat that he had made her feel remained and warmed her. Everything was wrong and everything was beautiful.

There was a rustling in a nearby bush and she saw a raccoon staring at her before going back to his own business.

“I want to know you,” she whispered.

………
………

Something was shaking his shoulders. Something very irritable and insistent. Spike groaned and buried his head deeper into the pillow.

“Get up!” Cecily growled for what felt like the millionth time. “We have to go. Now.”

“No,” he mumbled, voice muffled by sleep.

“You need to go to see Dr. Giles!” She shook him again. Nothing. He just let out a little snore that made her scream in frustration.

“Don’t want to,” he yawned, twisting his body into a more comfortable position.

“He says it’s important!”

“Nothing’s ever this bloody important.”

“William,” her tone grew sharper and Spike knew it was useless. She was just going to keep prodding and shaking and annoying him until he got up.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he cursed under his breath, opening his eyes slowly to meet the very angry gaze of his sister.

“Good,” she smiled tightly, pleased that he was finally on his way to the living and awake. “Now get dressed and meet me downstairs in ten minutes. We’re going to see the doctor, then we’re going to actually go to a real restaurant with real people, where you will order real food instead of the junk you eat day in and day out – “

“Do you ever shut up, you annoying bint?” he flopped a lazy arm over his eyes while Cecily busied herself raiding her closet, finding something for him to wear.

“God, William,” she put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the mess of a closet in front of her. “Don’t you have clothes? Something presentable to be seen in public – “

“I don’t do public and what’s wrong with my clothes?” his brows furrowed together under the weight of his arm.

“Oh, nothing,” she sighed and grabbed a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt, “Just the general lack in variety and color scheme. But don’t worry. After we eat, I’ll take you to the mall and we will buy you a great new wardrobe – “

“I’m not going anywhere,” he cut her off. “Now go away.”

Cecily flung the clothes on top of his sprawled-out body and exited his room, calling behind her, “Ten minutes, Will. That’s all you have, so hurry up.”

Spike groaned in exhaustion and went back to sleep.

………

Summer College Course…

Anya Jenkins narrowed her eyes at the classroom full of college kids who seemed like they would rather be anywhere but in her Biology 2401 class. A few of them in the front row even had the audacity to sleep. And snore. Loudly.

“Silver nitrate. There’s really just one time where we use it in life… can anyone tell me when that is?” She asked the class. They stared at her blankly.

“In Travers’s boring-ass chemistry labs?” A voice called out in the back of the class and a few people – who were still awake – laughed at that.

“How about…” She smirked a bit, a thought running through her head, “Do you all remember when you were little babies… pushing your way from the womb through your mother’s VAGINA - “

It worked. Heads popped up and stared at her. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know, I could have easily said birth canal, but don’t you feel like vagina’s such a more affective word? It even managed to wake up Mr. Harris – “

“Hey, I wasn’t asleep!” Xander’s head popped up. Buffy laughed at her friend as he gave their professor a charming smile. “You know… just resting the eyes..”

“Right,” Professor Jenkins shook her head, amused before turning back to the topic at hand. “Some doctors rub silver nitrate in your eyes when you’re an eency weency baby to prevent conjunctivitis –“

Buffy felt Xander poking her while she was writing down notes and turned to see him slip a sheet of paper under her arm. Curious, she unfolded the note and squinted to read his scribbled writing.

Bronze @ 9. Up for it?

She grinned and nodded at Xander who gave her a thumbs up sign.

Bronzing would be good for her. She hadn’t really been out much since her summer break besides to go to the courses she was taking for some college credits. And of course, at nights…

Which brings up another point of why Bronzing would be good for her. It would give her something else to think about other than … him.

………

“There’s a what?” Spike asked Dr. Giles sharply, not sure if he was hearing right. The aging doctor nervously removed his glasses and started cleaning them with the edge of his tie.

“Well, there’s, ah, to put it mildly… a cure.”

“What?” Spike raised an eyebrow, “Am I sick? Do I have a bloody disease?”

“N-no, not in the slightest, William,” Rupert Giles widened his eyes, horrified at the mistake he made. The poor boy, having to go through years with… that face. And to call it a disease… he could not believe such a preposterous thing had come out of his mouth. “What I mean is, well, a cosmetic surgery.”

“I don’t want to end up like those barbies and nancy-boys on the telly,” Spike’s jaw was set and his eyes glittered angrily. “I don’t need cosmetic surgery.”

“William!” Cecily said, sharply, embarrassed by her brother’s more than negative reaction to what she thought was great news. “Don’t you want to look like… you know…”

“Like what, sister dear?” he snarled, turning towards her. “Like normal? Like a human? Like something that isn’t a monster? Is that what you mean?”

“Of course not,” she sighed, tired of his behavior. “You know what I mean. Don’t you ever want to go out and face people again? Do something other than hide out in the woods and in your room doing who-knows-what until you’re old and gray?”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Spike shrugged.

“Well, why don’t you think about it, William,” Dr. Giles cleared his throat and stood up from his chair. Cecily and Spike got to their feet, too, and shook his hand as they exited the room. “Just think about it and call me. If you want it, I will get you on the list. If you don’t, then, uh… well, we’ll see.”

“Thank you, Dr. Giles,” Cecily smiled up to him. Spike grunted in his direction then headed for the exit of the doctor’s office as soon as he left the examination room, ignoring the children who stared at him and their parents who scolded them for staring at the deformed man.

The minute he walked through the glass doors and stepped foot into the sunlight, tilted his head back and took a deep breath of the cool, wet air, it hit him. He could be a new person… or, at least, be the person that he was before the fateful accident. For so long, he had forgotten how to smile at somebody and have them smile back, how to hold a conversation, how to have all the girls in the room turn their heads because he was attractive, not because his face was ugly. It seemed unreachable. He didn’t even remember who he was back then, didn’t remember how it felt.

A rare smile appeared on his lips as he closed his eyes and imagined the look on Drusilla’s face when she saw that he was perfect again. Utter satisfaction.

And Buffy…

And, well, Buffy …

His eyes opened. Would Buffy be happy? Would she caress his face and kiss it where the scars used to be? Suddenly, he felt his heart pounding and his pulse racing. There was a little flutter in his stomach as he thought about Buffy.

Buffy loved the scars. Buffy loved him. Didn’t she?

He felt this mildly churning sensation inside that made him want to dance all over. And he didn’t understand it.

Chapter Four

He stood in the shadows looking at the young people on the ground floor, dancing without a care in their mind. Strangely enough, he was on the balcony of the one building he thought he would never step foot in again. The one building that he hadn’t visited in what seemed like a lifetime. The Bronze. He smirked cynically to himself as he thought how fitting the name was. The Bronze, where the bronze, tanned bodies writhed together to sinfully alluring music.

Fitting except for him. The scars on his face were not to be exposed to the sun for an extended period of time. No bronzing for him, then, Spike thought mildly, watching the girls dancing with their pretty-boy boyfriends.

That could be me. He didn’t want to let his mind go there, but he couldn’t help it. There was this hope that he couldn’t shake off. The hope that he could be in the center of the dance floor with a woman in his arms instead of hiding out in the balcony’s shadow.

A glittery laugh floated up to him and he twitched, tilting his head to see where it had come from.

That’s when he saw her. Blonde, smiling, dancing with some stupid bloke that was moving much like a chimpanzee. A low growl erupted from Spike’s throat at the sight and the couple making out near him looked up and moved away. He didn’t care.

All he saw was Buffy Summers as she threw her head back and moved her body to the music.

All he wanted at that particular moment was Buffy Summers as she swayed her hips and laughed and lived.

………

Buffy laughed as Xander went overboard with the crazy dancing.

“What?” he laughed along with her and wiggled his hips, jokingly, “You’re just jealous because you can’t get your freak on like I can!”

“That’s exactly it, Xand,” she shook her head and he snapped his fingers.

“I knew it!”

“You’re such a loser, you know that?”

Xander checked her with his hip, nearly knocking her to the floor, “But that’s why you love me, Buffster. Admit it.” He added on a Transylvanian accent and held out a hand towards her, “Do youu vant to dance wiv me?”

He lowered his head dramatically and stared at her from under thick lashes, trying to fight the inevitable grin from spreading across his face.

“How can I resist!” she laughed and twirled into his arms, successfully knocking him down.

They both laughed heartily from the floor. Xander leapt to his feet and helped Buffy up, who hiccupped as she straitened her skirt.

“Wow, Buff,” Xander joked, “You sure are a devil on the dance floor.”

“Oh, shut up,” she swatted his chest. She spotted someone from the corner of her eye and pointed “Hey, look… is that Professor Jenkins? I think she’s staring straight at you…”

“What? Where?” Xander whirled around to look for the professor he was heavily crushing on. “Oh… She is! Hey look! Is she coming this way? Is she – “

“Have fun,” Buffy patted his shoulder and moved towards the stairs leading to the balcony. “I’m a little danced out, I’ll be up there if you need me.”

But Xander had stopped paying attention the moment Professor Jenkins stopped in front of him. Buffy shook her head with a smile and made her way up the stairs.

………

After a little while of leaning on the railing, she felt two arms wrap around her waist from behind. At first, she stiffened, but when she realized who it was, she allowed herself to relax.

“I thought I sensed you somewhere,” she said softly, closing her eyes as he pressed his body gently against hers.

“You can sense me, love?” his voice was deep and his breath was hot against her neck.

“I always can.”

His hands moved tantalizingly slow up her thighs and under her skirt. She closed her eyes and let out a tiny gasp as she felt his fingers brush against her panties and move them aside.

Without realizing it, she spread her legs further apart when she heard him unzipping his pants and moving in closer to her. Her grip on the railing tightened and her heart raced faster as the adrenaline of the situation rushed to her head.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, her voice a little bit choked as he surged up into her from behind.

“Shh,” he hushed her as she moaned, “wouldn’t want to catch any attention now, would we?”

“No… no atten…”

Her hips moved with his and she squeezed her eyes shut at the intensity. She was in blissful agony and the idea of getting caught was turning her on.

He buried his head in her hair and inhaled deeply as he started a steady rhythm. She smelled so good, like a faded scent of strawberries and Buffy mixed up in one delicious dessert.

This was different from those other times on the beach. He hadn’t come here expecting sex from her, but when he saw her climbing the stairs, he knew he had to have her. It was something animalistic that had gone off in his head when he saw her dancing before. Something that kept saying mine, mine, mine.

At the little muffled sounds she was making, he sped up his thrusts, feeling himself about to go over the edge.

“Buffy… fuck, Buffy…” he repeated her name in her ear over and over again. He couldn’t help it.

“Keep talking… uhn… Spike…”

He felt her muscles start to clamp down on him and pounded into her even faster, bending her more over the railing as he sought his own release.

When it finally came, he collapsed over her, and held on to the railing as well, hands on both side of her.

And nobody even noticed.

………

Later on, when he was safe and alone in his room, he thought about her face as she turned around to kiss him. She had looked at him with the lights of the club bouncing off his disfigurements and caressed them tenderly before bringing her lips to his.

At that moment, he held onto her and broke down. When she had tasted the saltiness of his tears, she lifted his face to study his eyes, then walked him back to a couch and sat down with him.

She asked him what’s wrong and he just shook his head. She let him bury his face on her shoulders and cry a years worth of tears.

“Fuck, Buffy,” he had held her face to his and pressed his forehead to hers, “I’m not worth it.”

She shook her head and kissed him again, saying in his ears “Of course you are. You’re True Love.”

At that moment, he decided to go through with the surgery. He wanted to see the look on her face when she saw him all patched up without the scars marring him. If the look she gave him when he was ugly sent him to the moon and back, what would the look be like when he was beautiful again?

It would be worth the world and more.

Chapter Five

32 days later

A month had passed since she had last seen him and now, July’s heat wave hung heavy as she sat in class, trying to pay attention to the test in front of her. The only sounds in the heat-drenched, sweaty classroom was the scratching of pencils on paper, pages fluttering as somebody turned it, and a fly buzzing around the room.

14. How much energy is produced by the Kreb Cycle?… She stared at the question. It was easy, but her mind was somewhere else. She hadn’t heard from Spike ever since the night that he had took her on the balcony and she was worried. Part of her was hurt that he would just forget her, but the other part of her thought that maybe something had happened to him. If something had happened, how would she know?

She wasn’t sure. Sighing, she made up her mind to visit his house at the other ends of the woods when she got home.

15. Explain the function of NADH.

………

His cabin was a little bit bigger than hers and seemed to glare at her threateningly through her windshield as she slowed to a stop. The tires crunched over dead leaves and branches that littered the driveway. Their property looked deserted and uncared for.

Buffy held a breath, cut the engine, and stepped out of the car. The sun was beginning to set and with it, the heat withdrew and she breathed in a cool breath of night air. She took in the smell of leaves being burnt somewhere in the distance and closed her eyes to savor the scent. It was one of the things she loved about these woods.

After calming herself down considerably, she walked towards the house and up the porch. The steps creaked and felt like they were going to cave in at her weight. Buffy carefully made her way towards the door and raised her hand, hesitated for a brief moment, then brought it down to rap at the door three times, sharply.

Ten minutes later, she was still standing there.

Finally, she turned around to leave.

……….

57 days later

A voice whispered in the dark.

“William…”

Where was it coming from? What was it doing there? He felt like he was in a horror story. His heart raced and he could feel the blood pumping past his ears.

“William… wake up…” The whisper was distant and he wondered who it was. There was a face… he could almost see it if he squinted hard enough. No… he didn’t really want to wake up.

“Come on, William, you’re done,” The voice was getting louder and louder. When he strained his ears, he heard some other voices in the background. Something beeping, something scratching, female voices talking to each other, a male voice…

His eyes slowly opened and he saw Dr. Giles’s beaming face above his. What was going on?

He suddenly remembered.

Surgery…

“Well, William,” Dr. Giles began, smiling, “Everything has gone smoothly, just as I predicted.”

His immediate response was to touch his face, but for some reason, he couldn’t move his arms. The doctor realized what he was trying to do and shook his head.

“You’re tied down for the moment, William,” He explained, “Safety measures. We’ll unstrap you in a few minutes.” He paused and looked down at his notepad. “Okay, son. Now, the skin on your left side is actually grown from grafts of a donor and it took very well to your body which means it was successful. However, it is still relatively new and to protect it, we have to ask you to wear the mask that is currently on your face for the next five hours. Do not over-exhaust yourself, do not do anything to irritate it, do not – “

Spike drowned him out and tried to grasp the fact that he… had a new face.

He had a new face. Bloody… fucking… hell, he slowly smiled.

………

7 hours later

He was in the hotel bathroom and the door was locked. His sister was somewhere in the other room, waiting anxiously for him to come out.

“Hurry it up, William!” She called, excited, “I want to see!”

Spike ignored her shrilly voice and stared at the figure in the mirror. There was something eerily scary about the white mask over his entire black-clad body. He didn’t even recognize himself; it was a stranger’s eyes that looked back at him from the two eyeholes.

Slowly, he moved his hands and watched as the hands in the mirror reached to grasp the two ends of the mask at his face. His pulse was racing and he felt the shiver of anticipation as he slid his thumbs under the hard, plastic material.

Slowly, he pulled the mask away from his face, cringing as some of his skin clung to it as if he were pealing off tape. It took him a few minutes to get the horrible white plastic face fully off of his skin and when it finally came loose, he held it a few inches away, still looking through the eyeholes at the man in the mirror.

He held a breath, closed his eyes, then put the mask down on the bathroom table. It slipped from his fingers and dropped down with a clang.

Should he open his eyes? What would he see? Who would he see?

“Come on! It’s taking you forever!”

Spike grit his teeth and his eyes opened.

………

The person he saw in the mirror was… completely flawless. He leaned forward, not fully believing what was before his eyes. The skin that replaced the ugly, gnarled scars was soft and perfect. Delicate.

The only spot that was less than beautiful was a small mark on the side of his left eyebrow. He was unable to re-grow his facial hair, so they had left that section alone. And he really didn’t care.

His fingers gradually lifted to the skin, tentatively, as if afraid to break it.

After a few minutes of inspecting his new face, free of the hateful, marred, angry scratches, he swallowed and took a step back, eyes still on the eyes of the mirror man.

Slowly, they both smiled.

………

Two days later

The plane had landed and now, Spike and Cecily were making their way to the baggage claim. Nobody commented at his face, nobody gasped or quickly looked away, nobody noticed. Well, nobody noticed, save a few girls who gave him appreciative glances and suggestive smiles.

He had been sure to throw them his signature smirk and they had giggled to each other, turning their head back to look at him when he passed.

“Spike!” An all too familiar voice called out to him and he turned his head, not believing his ears.

There she was, standing a few yards away from him, closer to him than she had been for what had seemed like forever.

It made him choke up and a slew of conflicting emotions ran through his mind straight to his heart, making him want to fall to the ground.

What was she doing here?

She was still beautiful, smiling at him as if a day hadn’t passed. A familiar shiver ran through his body when she started walking towards him.

But, there was something different about this shiver. It wasn’t the lust, the want, it wasn’t the love. He didn’t have time to figure out what was so different, because she had just stopped three feet in front of him.

“Hello… Drusilla,” he greeted her, softly.

………

“Drusilla!” Cecily grinned and ran to hug the girl. “I’m so glad you were able to make it!” She turned to Spike, who was still staring at Dru, “Sorry, William. I wanted to surprise you!”

He looked at both of them, wordless. Drusilla seemed to be at a loss for words as well. Maybe, he thought bitterly, it’s because she hadn’t so much as looked at me in four years….

“This is certainly a pleasant surprise,” she said, finally. “You look great, William.”

“And you look the same,” he answered, his voice flat. What could he say to her? Did four years really pass? Did she want to be with him again? If she did, would he say ‘yes’? He didn’t have enough time to think.

Cecily noticed the tension between the two of them. She looked from the dark-haired girl to her brother and back. “I told Dru to meet us here, Will,” She tried to brighten them up and laughed, “I told her she’d be surprise!”

“Well, surprise!” Spike threw his hands up and laughed with faux-happiness. “Bloody great surprise I am, right? Yeah. Everybody take a look.”

The two women froze and stared at him with a stricken expression on their face. His voice grew louder, “Let’s play a round of Everybody Poke the Spike, yeah? I’m a fucking zoo animal on fucking display. You know what? That’s bloodygreat. Really. I’m so happy for you now that you don’t have to look at my bloody fucking horrible face anymore.”

The people around him turned to stare and some people tried to step away. A security guard looked like he was about to step in if he went any further and started a disturbance. Spike glanced at all the eyes that were fixated on him and took a deep breath.

“You know what?” He said, evenly, trying to control the monster inside, “Sod this. I’m leaving.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

………

When he was out the doors, Spike heard Drusilla shouting his name. Not bothering to turn around, he stalked down the sidewalk until he felt a hand on his arm.

“What do you want?” He bit out and she pulled back, flinching.

“Spike…” She said, softly, trying to console him, “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean it like that.”

“Mean what like what?”

Drusilla tried again, “We didn’t try to make you out to be a … display. I’m sorry. Your sister called and told me to meet her here. She told me that I wouldn’t be disappointed, so I just came. I had no idea…”

“So you just came here,” his cold eyes regarded hers, “Well it’s great to see you, pet, it really is. A bloke woulda thought you forgot all about him, what with not seeing your precious face in years.”

“I would never forget you,” Drusilla tried to touch his face but he turned away. “You were so distant… ever since the accident.”

“Don’t you dare talk about that bloody… fucking… accident,” he all but growled.

“Spike, please,” She looked like she was about to cry. “It changed my life, but it never changed how I felt about you.”

“Did you even care about me?”

“Of course! And I still do…” She insisted, the tears now spilling over her face. “Please. Let me talk to you.”

“Okay. Talk.” He resisted going to her side and wiping away her tears. There was too much pain between them and having it all thrown back at him was too unsettling.

“Not here,” her voice was soft and pleading, “Let me take you out to dinner. We can go to Panara … remember how we always went there?”

After a moment, he finally nodded and agreed. “Yeah,” he said, softly, “I remember.”

This was a moment that he had dreamt about for years. Him all healed and her running back to him. But for some reason, it wasn’t as settling as his dream was. It didn’t make him happy or relieved or ecstatic. For some reason, he still felt completely and utterly empty.

And he wanted to go see Buffy.

Chapter Six


Angel frowned as he held the refrigerator door open with one hand and perused the empty shelves.

“We’re out of everything,” he announced when Buffy walked into the kitchen. She glanced his way and shrugged.

“I guess we’ll have to eat out, then.”

“Well, we better hurry,” he sighed and squinted at his watch. “I need to pick Connor up in an hour.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows, questioningly, “Where’s Connor?”

“Babysitters,” Angel knit his brows, “Same place he’s been every single weekday for the past month.”

“Wait, what?”

“You really are clueless, Buffy,” her brother sighed and shook his head. “I work during the day, remember?”

Buffy thought about that for a moment, then let out a small “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” he repeated after her, “Is something on your mind, Buff?”

She thought about Spike, then shook her head. “Nope. Nothing at all,” She picked up her car keys and spun them around on her index finger. “Dinner?”

Angel knew something was up, but just sighed and shrugged, “Okay.”

………

Spike looked around at the cozily lit restaurant, feeling a bit nostalgic as he settled into his chair across from Drusilla. He used to think that this was the most romantic place in the world and now all he felt was uncomfortable.

“So,” he started, breaking the sentence, “What have you been doing?”

Drusilla looked at him from above her menu and set it down in front of her, slowly. “Well,” She pursed her lips and her eyes swiveled to the top of her head as she thought, “After high school, I started at the community college.”

When she didn’t continue, he nodded. He remembered a time when he had set his sights on a university like Harvard or Yale. He had wanted to be great and she had just laughed at him, telling him that college didn’t really matter.

“Do you like it?” He prompted, feeling a little uneasy with all the not talking they were doing. She shrugged her shoulders and looked back down at the menu.

Spike took that moment to study her. She was just as beautiful as he had remembered: thick, dark hair hanging just past her breasts, delicate pale face smooth and flawless. He remembered the times they spent by the lake, laughing, kissing, making love. She had been his world.

Then he thought of Buffy. She was completely different: golden, smiling, seemingly unbreakable. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the way her shining hair had glistened under the moon and how it had skimmed the water as he tipped her head back.

He thought about Buffy’s hair as he had laid her down on the sand; it splayed out and spread around her like a halo. Suddenly, it was replaced by the dark black of Drusilla’s hair and his eyes snapped open. His heart pounded and something electric coursed through his blood in fright.

Drusilla was staring at him and he noticed that his hands were sweating and fisted in a tight ball. When he unclenched them, the crescent shape of his fingernails were imprinted on his palms and he looked away.

………

Buffy warily eyed the hostess as she led them through the restaurant to their seat. Angel was grinning like an idiot.

“I’ve always wanted to come here!” he exclaimed, excited, “I hear they have the best Filet Mignon money can buy.”

“Yeah,” she hissed under her breath as to not get the attention of the other diners. “What money, Angel? Who’s money? I’m working my ass off at the university this summer to pay off my Harvard loan! And you’re blowing whatever we have on food?”

“Relax, Buff,” he dismissed her, rolling his eyes, “I’m using my money. And I don’t know why you refuse to just go to Mom and Dad.”

“I don’t need them,” she said, stiffly. Her history with her parents were… less than ideal. The idea of going to them for money made her want to run for the bathroom and lock herself in a stall. There were just some things that could not be done. Asking her parents to pay Harvard’s tuition was one of them.

“Here you are,” the hostess smiled brightly, gesturing to the table next to her. Buffy tightly smiled a thank you and Angel started reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“Angel, what are you doing!” she whispered harshly, grabbing his arm to stop him.

Angel blinked, “Huh?”

“You do not tip the hostess!” Buffy couldn’t believe Angel’s lack of restaurant-eating-etiquette-skills and sat into her chair.

“Oh,” He turned to give the hostess an apologetic smile and when Buffy wasn’t looking, slipped her a five dollar bill.

The hostess walked away happily, and Angel sat down. He glared at Buffy from across the table, then noticed she wasn’t looking at him.

She had turned her head and caught the very surprised, very blue eyes of a guy that bore a very close resemblance to Spike. In fact, she thought focusing her eyes on him and squinting, it was Spike.

Before he had the accident.

………

About a few minutes after the waiter had taken their orders, Drusilla had finally found her voice and started talking. She had rambled through the who’s-who and who’s-where of their entire graduating class and Spike had just nodded and sipped at his wine the entire time. Then, she talked about really getting into cosmetology and how Oh my god, it’s just so fun!

Before he could realize that they really didn’t have anything in common anymore, he had noticed a familiar voice and had felt a familiar excited shiver run down his spine.

At that moment, he drowned out the sound of Drusilla’s voice and turned his head to meet the green eyes of Buffy Summers, sitting two tables down across from a tall, dark, and handsome man. Tall, dark, and poofy, his inner voice fumed and he ground down on his back teeth.

Her eyes held his for what seemed to be forever, then she quickly broke her stare and focused on the guy she was with.

Spike hadn’t known he could feel this much jealousy. Something inside him shouted and screamed and kicked and before he did something that he would regret, he forced his eyes back to Drusilla’s merrily talking face.

“… and it’s just so exciting, you know?” She paused and waited for him to nod before she started up again. “I never saw myself doing somebody’s hair before but then… I sort of realized that it’s just like science!”

“Uh huh,” he leaned back into his chair and sighed. He refused to look back at Buffy again, even when he felt the heat of her eyes on him. Bloody hell, this is going to be a long night…

………

“Sorry, what?” Buffy snapped out of the third stare-fest of the night and tore her eyes off of the Man-Who-Resembled-Spike and back onto Angel’s very annoyed face.

“Am I really that boring? Or am I mute? Because I swear I could hear myself speaking and you just seem to… and there she goes again,” Angel glared as Buffy seemed to drift off into her own little world. Yet again.

Buffy kept staring at Man-Who-Resembled-Spike, refusing to believe that it actually was Spike. They certainly looked similar, minus a few – or many – scar tissues. But it wasn’t the scars, or lack thereof, that made her refuse to see him as the man that had taken up permanent residence in her dreams and her heart. Rather, it was the fact that the very man was currently sitting across from whom she recognized as Drusilla.

And that surprises you how? The voice in Buffy’s mind asked sarcastically, and she frowned. The fact that he was with Drusilla should have confirmed that he was, indeed, Spike. In the flesh. All abrasions miraculously healed or removed or whatever the hell happened to him in his two months of absence. Of course he would have gone to Drusilla. She was the love of his life, after all. Buffy was… nothing, she decided, feeling close to tears.

She was angry. She was torn. She hated him now, she was sure. He had used her for his temporary, convenient pleasure, making her think that maybe she mattered just a little bit… but when the field was cleared of all obstacles, he ran straight to the finish line, where Drusilla was waiting. How could she not have expected this? Buffy held back the tears and looked into the placemat in front of her.

How could she have not seen this coming? Maybe she had calmed herself down each night, knowing that he would always be scarred and repulsive to other girls. Maybe that was what had kept her going to him. Because somehow, she knew that he wouldn’t run away. Maybe that made her more horrible than him. It made her manipulative.

Deep down, Buffy knew it wasn’t the case. But…

“Buffy!” Angel’s voice snapped her out of her thinking spell and she blinked up at him.

“Huh?”

“Welcome back, where the hell were you?” he asked, spinning his index finger around his head.

“Thinking,” she sighed, picking up her fork and playing with it.

“That much was obvious,” he rolled his eyes, “What were you thinking about?”

Buffy didn’t answer and Angel cleared his throat. Finally, she muttered, “Some guy.”

“This isn’t exactly my area of expertise, but do you want to talk about it?” Angel asked. “We can order ice cream before our meal. Isn’t that what most girls do when they have guy problems?”

Buffy giggled a little despite herself and despite the lameness that was Angel. He smiled back at her and she sighed.

“It’s just… there was a guy for a little bit,” she said vaguely, “He used me and now he’s back with his ex. Cliché, overused story. Who knew it would happen to me?”

Angel smiled and leaned forward. “Who is he and when do I get to kill him?” he asked casually. Buffy laughed again and he reached forward to give her a reassuring squeeze on the cheek. “I’ve always got your back, Buff.”

“Yeah, that’s why I love you,” she said and without realizing, slid her eyes back to Spike and paled.

He was leaning across the table, kissing Drusilla.

………

Chapter Seven

He might as well have brutally pulled her heart out, threw it to the ground, and stepped on it with his heavy boots. She felt like somebody had gutted her, slap her, and if they hadn’t, she wished they had. Anything was better than the wrenching feeling inside her chest creeping into her stomach.

She tried to turn away but she was frozen, staring at Spike as he kissed Drusilla. It killed her. She watched as his eyes fluttered closed and his mouth opened against hers and suddenly, she couldn’t stay anymore.

“I… I need to use the bathroom,” she threw the napkin on her nap onto her seat and fled towards the back of the restaurant.

Angel turned his head, trying to see what she was running from. At first, he didn’t see anything obviously upsetting save the couple making out at their table, but then, the bleached blonde man disengaged from his girlfriend’s mouth, looked right at him, and pushed out of his seat. If looks could kill, Angel expected that he would be dust in his seat now, with the way the guy glared at him.

The bleached guy stalked away towards the back of the restaurant and after a moment, Angel got up from his seat, deciding to follow.

………

Spike had felt her eyes on him the entire time he was kissing Drusilla. He didn’t exactly know what brought him to do something like that, but he knew that it had something to do with the insane jealousy that had bubbled up in him when he heard Buffy laugh at whatever that hulky ponce had to say.

His gut had twisted and all he could think about was the emptiness he felt when he realized that she had never laughed like that with him. So he did the impulsive thing. He tried to hurt her back. How? By kissing the words right out of Drusilla’s mouth when it was open, apparently telling him something that he hadn’t quite caught.

Kissing Drusilla should have felt wonderful, but all he felt was completely sick to his stomach. His entire body screamed at him, telling him to stop it, but he didn’t. He saw Buffy look at him with what seemed to be shock and disgust and had to close his eyes because the sight of her like that killed him.

Well, you wanted to hurt the girl. Congratulations. I hope you’re happy, you bloody soddin’ wanker.

When he sat back, Drusilla was wide-eyed and finally silent. Spike saw Buffy’s back retreating and immediately, his heart lurched. The man she was sitting with had his head turned and was staring at him with what seemed a bit like hate and he just glared back.

Drusilla opened her mouth again and before she could utter a word, Spike got out of his seat and went to look for the only person that mattered at the moment.

They had some things that needed to be cleared up. Now.

………

Buffy looked at her reflection in the mirror of the ladies’ room. She was a mess. Her hair had fallen out of the casual ponytail that it was in and her eyes were red and puffy. Her makeup streaked down her face and she saw the shiny residue of her tears all over her cheeks.

She took a deep, shuddery breath and willed herself to stop crying.

………

Spike paced back and forth in front of the ladies room. He wasn’t sure if going in would be the best idea, but he could sense her in there and knew that if he didn’t go in, he’d never have another chance to talk. Finally, he counted to five, held his breath, and charged into the bathroom, colliding into a Buffy-shaped figure that was on her way out.

He grabbed her arms and pushed her back into the bathroom.

………

“What the hell?” Buffy cried out when she felt Spike’s fingers digging into her arm and nearly stumbled as she felt herself getting shoved backwards. She fought him off and fell backwards, hitting her back against a sink and tumbling to the ground. If the tears were in control a few seconds ago, they were back in full force now.

He stood there before her, flexing his jaw, not sure what to say, not now when he finally had her right there before him. She was crying and he wasn’t sure what he should do. His jealousy stopped him from comforting her and made him take a step back.

“What do you want, Spike,” she spat his name out as if disgusted and scrambled to her feet, not bothering to stop the free flow of tears coming from her eyes. He swallowed for a second. When he didn’t answer, she shook her head and moved to leave again. Spike quickly caught her and pushed her against the sink.

“Who the fuck was that?” He growled and for the first time, her green eyes flared up and viciously burned a hole in his.

“What are you talking about? I don’t see you for two months and you’re questioning me?” She glared at him and he pressed her harder against the sink until the sharp edge dug into her back. She hissed at the pain, “You’re hurting me.”

“I think it’s obvious what I’ve been doing for the past two months, Buffy,” his voice was cold, controlled. Buffy didn’t know this side of Spike. He had hurt her before, but this deliberate coldness… it was real, raw, and so extremely painful.

“Looks like you got your wish, then,” she tried to push him off but he wouldn’t budge. His closeness was affecting her but the last thing she wanted was for him to know that.

“What’s that, love?”

“You wanted to be beautiful,” she made her voice hard and calculated, “And don’t you dare call me that.”

“Call you what, lamb? Pet? Goldilocks?” He brought his mouth to her ear, “Love?”

Buffy violently jerked against him and he stumbled backwards. Her back throbbed and she stepped away from the sink to rub it.

“I hate you,” She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. Inside, she knew that loving him was something that she probably would never get over, but she was desperate to guard herself against him, emotionally. Something changed over Spike’s features. She couldn’t quite place what it was, but it passed after a few seconds and was replaced by a stone mask.

“That’s not what you said when we first met,” He leered at her.

She just stared at him and finally, she spoke, her voice even, “That was before I got to know you. Before I knew what type of person you were. Before I knew that the second that you gave yourself a makeover, you would go running back to your bitch of an ex-girlfriend. You think she cares about you? Where do you think she’s been while you were all alone moping for years in your own fucking room?”

She paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “You think she gives a damn about what you went through after that accident? Huh? And did you know that the entire time you were together, she was cheating on you?” Buffy gulped and shook her head. “I thought you were special. Really, I did. That’s why I let myself get involved, even when I knew you were just using my body the entire time. But I thought that changed, you know? I thought that maybe if I kept giving you whatever I had to offer, you’d finally see me. But, you know what? I’ve never been more wrong my entire life.”

Spike didn’t say anything and Buffy walked towards the door. She put her hand on the knob and pressed her forehead to the wood. For a moment, she just took deep breaths, and finally, she spoke, with her back towards him, “The next time she dumps you… don’t come running back to me.”

Spike’s voice stopped her from leaving, “What about you, Buffy? Who was that guy?”

“What guy?” Buffy realized what he was talking about and hardened. “Angel? He’s the best.”

With that, she walked out of the bathroom, leaving him alone in the ladies room, thinking over everything that she had said.

When he was standing there with his back against the tiles of the wall, he realized that he needed her. She had been the one on his mind the entire two months. She had been the one that he wanted to see, the one that had made him even want the surgery. When had things gone so wrong?

When you kissed Drusilla, he thought, disgusted with himself.

He had to go make things right. Spike pushed himself off the wall, opened the door, and walked right into Angel’s fist.

Spike fell backwards and stumbled backwards from the force of the blow. “Bloody! Hell!” He shouted, grabbing his nose.

Angel walked in, pissed as ever, and glared at him. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but if you ever hurt my sister again, make no mistake, I will kill you. Understood?”

“Wait,” Spike squinted at him with his hands still covering his face. “Sister? You’re her brother?”

All he got was a glare as Angel walked back out of the bathroom. That was when Spike knew that he had really screwed things up.

Chapter Eight

Buffy pulled into her driveway and saw a figure in black sitting on the porch steps, elbows on his knees, smoking a cigarette. She flipped off the headlights and leaned back in her seat to think.

She had ran out of the restaurant in tears and completely forgot about Angel as she sped out of the parking lot to nowhere in particular. She drove and drove until she was lost and had to call Angel for directions back home. Surprisingly, her brother wasn’t angry with her and told her that he had called a taxi.

Now, it was past midnight and the last person she wanted to see was on her porch, looking her way, obviously waiting for her to go up to him.

Breathing out, slowly, she rubbed her temples, trying to kill the throbbing headache. Don’t let him hurt you. Finally, she got out of the car and put her mask back on, hiding the pain in her eyes. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Again.

The air was chilly and the smell of smoke was bitter in her nose. She couldn’t enjoy the stars or the peace or anything that she normally enjoyed about the night with him right there, a few seconds walk away, slowly rising to his feet.

“Spike,” she nodded at him as she climbed up the steps and went to the door, digging in her pockets for her house keys. She refused to look at his face.

“Buffy,” she heard his voice say and felt his body tentatively approach her. Her hands grasped her keys and froze. He spoke again and she could almost feel the chilliness of his breath, “Can we talk?”

No. Never. “I think we’ve said enough,” her hands were functioning again and she opened the filmy screen door to unlock the heavy wooden one behind it.

“I want to tell you that I’m… that…” He tried to get the words out, but when her back was so tense and her voice was so cold, he couldn’t. Say sorry, you fuckin’ git, he tried to force the words out of his mouth but they died on his tongue.

Buffy waited, but when he didn’t continue his thought, she sighed and shook her head. “It’s late, Spike, Good ni-“

“Wait, Buffy,” he cut her off and reached out to grab her arm. When she felt his hand on her, she jerked away and he flinched. Something inside him was breaking and he didn’t know what it was.

All these years and his eyes were finally beginning to open. All these years of seclusion, hiding, running to his room and destroying his furniture to vent his frustration at himself and at the world. She had caught him in his darkest hour when he was on the brink of destroying himself. Spike was a hollow shell of a man. The accident hadn’t just taken away his face, it had stripped him of his pride. He couldn’t stand the look of pity in the eyes that turned to him day by day and it slowly ate at him until he refused to be around those petty, self-proclaimed compassionate people.

But when he had saw her… she had made him feel something but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was. At first, he fought it. He saw it as a physical pleasure, something to take advantage of. And that was exactly what he had done. Taken what she had to offer and given her nothing in return except for his own darkness and contempt for the world.

What had he done? And now she was staring at him again, those green eyes that cut to his core and made him want to see himself from a new perspective. Her perspective. She had never shown him pity. Not then, not now. Now, she just looked at him in disappointment and Spike wanted nothing more than to take back every word, every spiteful action, everything he had done to her to make her look at him like that.

But, goddammit, it was easier thought than done. He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. Something was in the way. Pride? His heart was encased in a lead box and was trying to get out, but he couldn’t. He had learned to protect it and had done a damn good job of it.

“What do you want, Spike?” She asked him and he thought he could almost see a soft glimmer of warmth in her eyes. But it disappeared as soon as it appeared and in its place was something frozen cold and hard.

“I-I’m not with Drusilla,” he blurted out. She blinked at him and he wanted to cringe.

“Is that it?” Her eyebrows raised and if it was even possible, her voice got even harder.

“No,” He took a step towards her and winced when she backed up. “I never meant to hurt you, Buffy.”

Buffy gave him a tight smile laced with sarcasm and disgust and he felt like he had just been pushed into a pile of mud. “Don’t worry about it because it’ll never happen again.”

She twisted the doorknob and pushed open the front entrance. When she was inside, she let the screen door fall into place, separating the two of them with a thin wire sheet of film.

“Wait, please,” He pleaded, holding his hands flat against the wire screen. “I saw you at the restaurant with someone else and I was jealous. Okay? Seeing you with somebody else hurt me and the first thing that came to my mind was to hurt you back. Bloody stupid of me, I know. I’m an idiot. And I’m … I’m sor-“

His voice broke off.

“You want to know what hurt, Spike?” Buffy said in a dangerous tone, taking a step closer to him now that there was a divide between them. “Not hearing from you for over two months. Not knowing if you were hurt, in trouble, dead. Thinking that you just forgot about me. That hurt. And you know what else hurts? You not telling me what you were about to do. You not calling me when you got back. I don’t give a damn what you do or don’t do with Drusilla. But fuck you if you think that my feelings are something that you can manipulate and throw out of a window.”

“I was going to call you! I don’t know what I was thinking, love, I honestly don’t,” His voice came out frantic and his hand gripped onto the screen. “I thought it’d be a surprise. I thought that you would love it. I-I thought that if I just left without telling you, it’d make my return – I don’t know, more dramatic?”

He ended lamely and couldn’t believe himself. Did he really think he was all that? That she would just wait, pining for him day after day, and when he finally graced her with his better and improved presence, she would be ecstatically happy and welcome him back with open arms? Was that what he was thinking? Whatever he had been thinking, he now wanted to slap himself for it.

“Who do you think you are? A god?” She laughed bitterly at him. “Newsflash. You’re not. You were somebody that meant something to me with or without this… face. I thought maybe it was love, but now I know I was wrong.”

“No, Buffy, please,” he begged her, “I know what I did was stupid. The way I treated you? There’s no excuse. But I’m trying, you see? I’m really trying. I want to be worthy of you, love. It’s just so … I’m sorry.”

Buffy shook her head and sighed, “It’s late, Spike. I’m going to sleep. If you still feel the need to talk, you’ll have to wait until I’m ready. Right now? Definitely not ready. Good night.”

With that, she closed the door and disappeared from his sight.

………

It wasn't until a few hours later that he staggered into his own dark house, a little drunk and a lot upset. The drinks he had didn't help the sunken feeling in his stomach and neither did the light that suddenly flooded the room.

"Where have you been!" His sister appeared out of nowhere in a white nightgown, her hands on her hips. "Do you know what time it is?!"

He ignored her and headed for his room. After leaving Buffy's porch, he had walked down to the lake and stared out at it for a good while, just thinking about… stuff. Drusilla was right. He did close himself off after the accident.

It had made him into a rock. Everything was solid - his heart, his mind. He made it impossible for anybody to break him anymore than how much he had already been broken. Vulnerable hearts were weak and tonight, he had been vulnerable. He had let his guard down with Buffy and when he saw her with.. her brother.. he did the only thing he knew how to do.

Protect himself.

He lashed out, attacked her, tried to hurt her. And now, all he wanted to do was to crawl into her bedroom, wrap his arms around her, and take it all back.

Cecily knew better than to follow him and demand an explanation, so she disappeared into her own bedroom.

Spike shut his door and welcomed the darkness of his solitary room - his prison, his home. After staring out at the lake, he had gone to Willy's Tavern, the local bar, and tried to drink away the ache in his heart. It didn't work as well as he wanted and now, here he was in the dark, the one place he felt most comfortable.

Alone.

Wasn't that what he wanted? For people to stay away from him and let him wallow in his own self-misery? Didn't he keep people at a distance because he was afraid to be hurt? When there was nobody there, the only person who could hurt him was himself. He didn't realize how true it was. In his own little world and his own little shell, he had become a shadow of who he used to be - a passionate, arrogant, daring bastard who loved life and lived the moment until it was so full that it burst.

Now, all that was left of him was his anger and his pain. His hands flew to his face and he dug his nails into his new skin. A surgery hadn't lifted the pain. Didn't he know that? How could a simple surgery erase four years of self-loathing?

With a frustrated yell, he scratched his face then flung himself down on the bed and cried.

The saltiness of the tears invaded his mouth and streamed down his throat. Real tears. Maybe his heart wasn't so hard after all.

Another hour passed and he still lay there on his bed, face down, dry tears streaking his cheeks. Finally, right before sleep claimed him, he made a resolution to himself.

I’ll get Buffy back. I need her. I’ll do anything, just so she’ll look at me again.



.....................
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Reviews are always appreciated. I also have a sorta-new story up, "Bullets and Stones,"... check it out when you have time. It's a little bit different, but I hope you guys like it.

Chapter Nine

She woke up to the birds chirping noisily outside her window and the soothing sounds of a guitar strumming on the porch. A guitar strumming… Huh? At first, she didn't comprehend what was happening, then the events of the other day came crashing back towards her, violently jarring her awake.

What was that sound? The guitar was joined by an all-too-familiar voice. Spike. Buffy yawned and stretched her arms high above her head before swinging her feet to the side of her bed and slowly padding over to the window.

She pulled the curtains back a fraction of an inch and tentatively peered outside. Sure enough, there sat Spike on the steps of her front porch with a guitar resting under his arm and propped up by a knee.

Her heart swelled and for a moment there, she almost forgot why she was angry with him. But then, she remembered every word he said to her, everything he had done to her, and stepped away from the window, jerking her hand away from the curtain as if it were scorched.

………

"Want me to make him leave?" Angel asked, not looking up from his newspaper as Buffy made her way to the kitchen.

"No, don't worry about it," she shook her head and grabbed some milk from the refrigerator. She poured it in a tall glass cup and sighed, "He'll leave if we just ignore him."

Angel raised his eyes over the edge of the paper and studied her for a moment before shrugging, "If you say so."

………

Two hours later

Buffy sighed. Spike was still sitting on her porch steps with his guitar, singing his heart out. Occasionally, she would recognize a love song and despite how hard she would try not to, she'd find herself smiling. She carefully pulled at the blinds of the window and let herself stare at the sight of his smooth face and his lean body leaning against a wooden column. He didn't look like he had gotten much rest the night before; his peroxide hair was a curled mess on his head and his clothes were wrinkled and unkempt.

The sun was beginning to burn up something fierce and finally, she decided that it was time to talk to him because he obviously wasn't going to let up.

………

Spike looked up when the screen door creaked open and Buffy stepped out. Her hair wasn't brushed and there was not a trace of makeup on her face, but the sight of her still made his heart rush.

She sat down on the step next to him and wrapped her arms around her folded legs as he kept singing and staring straight at her.

"Morning, love," he smiled slightly when he finished the song and set the guitar to the side.

"Yeah," she nodded, picking absentmindedly at the fray of her denim cut-off shorts. "Morning. Why are you here?"

"I wanted to talk."

Buffy bit her lower lip and leaned back on the column holding up the stair rail. "What if I'm not ready?"

"I'm willing to wait," he told her, looking straight into her green eyes. She didn't answer him right away, just held his gaze for a few moments.

Something about him made her want to run towards him and just give up the fight with her heart. Succumbing would be so easy, but she knew that easy wasn't the right way out. But the way he was looking at her; it was different. The sky was reflected in the blue of his eyes and the fortress that had always guarded them was gone today.

"But how long are you willing to wait?" her voice softened. She had cried herself to sleep the night before with the image of Spike and Drusilla imprinted into her mind. She had also run through his words over and over again until everything was thoroughly messed up in her head.

"As long as I need to," he answered, lowering his voice as well. "I'd wait at your doorstep forever if I needed to."

She wasn't used to the tender quality of his voice and hearing it scared her a little. This was a game she had never played - it wasn't the defensive Spike, the one that hurt her, the one who had built walls around his heart so that even she couldn't penetrate them.

"Why?" she asked. Spike inched closer to her until his knees were centimeters away from her feet. She tightened her grip around her legs in a protective stance.

"Buffy," he started, then took a deep breath. "I've lived for years just hidden away. I've pushed so many people away - you know that because I've pushed you away as well. I'm tired of pushing, love. Especially you… God, the things I've said to you…"

He broke off, sucking air in and biting down hard on his cheeks. Buffy waited for him to continue. "The things I've said you … they're unforgivable. I know that. At first, this thing that we had… I tried to make it not mean anything. But every single minute we spent together, I kept - you kept pulling me in. And I wasn't sure what it was at first, you know? I was scared. I didn't know what you wanted from me. You told me you loved me, but I - I didn't know what to do…

"So, I got this done," he gestured to his face. "I thought it'd make me feel like a man again. I thought it'd make you want me more, or something. Bloody stupid, I'll admit that."

Buffy cut him off, "You never asked. If you had asked me first, I would have told you that it wouldn't matter. Your scars, they were a part of you, Spike. But no, you just went and - and you didn't even call to say goodbye, didn't even leave a note. Then all of a sudden, you blow back into town and you're with Drusilla! Nothing you do makes sense! You're like - I don't know! I've given up trying to decode you."

"That's just the thing though, love!" Spike grabbed her hands, ignoring her when she tried to pull away. "I'm through with all the, uh, cryptic messages. I've… reformed! Done a one-eighty, yeah? I want to be better a better man."

Buffy slowly exhaled and relaxed her hands in his grasp. "Why?" She asked softly, barely hearing herself.

Spike simply looked at her. "You know why."

She shook her head. "I'm not so sure I do. There's so much about you that I don't know, there's so much that I'm afraid to know - " She swallowed and tried to gain composure. "I think I fell in love with the idea of you…"

Spike waited for her to finish, tightening his hold on her fingers.

After a shuddery breath, she went on, "When I first saw you, you were like… this god that everyone - every girl - wanted. I became, I don't know… it was so long ago. But then after the accident, I thought everyone abandoned you, and I fell in love with the idea that I'd be the one who'd be there, you know? I thought I'd turn you back into the man you were just by being there for you. It's a child's dream, I know. I never realized how much it'd hurt… all those times I thought I was in love with you… it's been the idea all along."

"Try to love the man, Buffy?" Spike silently pleaded, pulling her closer to him. Their faces were inches apart and she started to wonder if the heat she was feeling was from the high sun or the man next to her… "Please? It's a lot to ask, but… without you, I don't know how to live. I need you."

A part of her wanted to just let him hold her. It would be so soothing to just feel his arms around her and close her eyes. But then, the rational, more balanced section of her brain protested.

"What about your Drusilla?" She said, her voice wavering slightly. It wasn't supposed to sound so insecure and it wouldn't have if she wasn't so vulnerable at the moment.

Spike almost smiled at the jealous undertones in her voice, "She's not my Drusilla. We're not together, we'll never be together, and I wouldn't want to go back to her when I know how it feels to be with someone so much better - "

"Seemed pretty 'together' last night to me," Buffy muttered, then winced. She hadn't exactly planned to say that out loud.

He widened his eyes, "That was… I'm sorry, okay? I was trying to make you jealous and it really was bloody, bloody bad idea - "

She cut him off, "Why did she know you were back before I did?"

"My idiot of a sister called her and she was just waiting at the airport - I had no idea that she'd be there. I mean it."

He let go of her hand to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. Buffy tensed at the contact before letting herself relax against his light touch. She looked into his eyes and saw a pool of hope laced with worry, distress, and something more; she wondered if it was possible for one person to show so much emotion without saying a word. Then she wondered what the past few years had been like for him. Years of self-induced seclusion, years of hate and anguish at a couple of scars. A wrecked up face.

It was vain, but in the time she had known Spike, to say that he was vain was an understatement. But then, it was a part of him and she couldn't hate it, no matter how hard she tried.

At one point, she thought that she could erase the pain all by herself. That slowly, he'd come out of his little world or let her in; either would have been fine. Was she so stupid to believe so much in herself?

Without a word, she angled her body so it was facing him and pulled his head down to meet hers in a gentle kiss.

Was it so wrong that a simple kiss could affect her so much? It made her want to forget the past few days - weeks - and just cling onto him.

She felt the soft tip of his warm tongue caress her lower lip, trying to deepen the kiss. His arms had wrapped around her and was pulling her slowly onto his lap as he stroked her back and tangled one hand in her hair.

Too much. Too soon

Buffy broke away, leaving Spike with his eyes closed, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Buffy…" his voice came out a ragged whisper, warm breath tickling her face. It was a whine, a plea, and a question all in one. God, she loved that about him - how one word could mean a million.

She pressed her lips to the hollow of his cheeks lightly before answering.

"I don't know if I'm ready for you, yet."

Chapter Ten

A few days later…

His bedroom door opened and Spike looked up from the book in his hands.

"Hello," Drusilla said quietly, her lips curving up into a half smile. Spike froze and the book promptly dropped onto the bed with a muted thud.

"What are you doing here?" he clenched his teeth and sat up, stretching his sore back muscles. Drusilla faltered for a moment, then took a step towards the bed.

"I thought maybe we could - " her voice clipped off when she registered the annoyed look in Spike's eyes. Spike sighed, realizing what she thought.

"You're wasting your time."

He pushed up out of his lounging position and stood, flexing his shoulders, trying to work out the slight aching. Drusilla was silently staring at him with her head slightly tilted, as if trying to figure him out.

"But after the other night," she paused, glancing quickly at his lips, then continued, "I thought you wanted me back."

"Forget about that night, Dru," he muttered and brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck. "It was a mistake. A huge bloody mistake on my part."

"A mistake? "

"Yeah. You know, an accident. Shouldn't've happened."

Spike was getting tired of talking to her and giving her explanations that belonged to Buffy. But on the other hand - he did feel bad for using Drusilla.

She took another step closer and asked another question. "Do you love me?" she demanded to know.

He snorted, rolling his eyes at that notion. Yeah, for a while, he thought he did. For a few glorious months in high school, he had thought she was his entire world. Even after the accident, he'd always held her up on some vile, disgusting pedestal. But all of that changed the second Buffy stepped into his life.

"No," he replied, shortly. Drusilla widened her eyes, shocked. Spike shook his head and laughed out loud. "Oh, that's bloody priceless, pet. Did you really think I could still love you after everything?"

"Spike, I know you're angry with me for - "

"Angry is not a strong enough word for what I feel towards you. Hell, hate isn't even a strong enough word right now."

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them again, gazing at him sadly. "I thought you could forgive me. I realize now that I was wrong. I should have been there for you, William. Seeing you the other day… it made me realize what I had let go and - "

"Is there a point to this soddin' charade?"

"The point is that I love you. I always have, I just haven't seen it until now."

Her words struck him dumb and he just stared at her. A part of him was laughing at her audacity. How dare she walk up to him now, say some pretty words, and expect him to welcome her back in his arms? The other part was just … disappointed. Her words opened his eyes and for the first time, he saw her for what she really was.

"I just realized something," Spike spoke up. Drusilla took an eager step forward.

"Yes? What did you realize?"

"I just realized that all that time I spent rottin' away feeling sorry for myself was a complete waste, because really? I had everything I needed. You - I feel sorry for you. You stupid, miserable, superficial wench - "

"Stop it, William!" she hissed, but Spike was on a roll.

"You think just because all of a sudden, poor Spike is pretty again, you get to take me back and pretend nothing ever happened? Oh, you've always wanted me, is that it? You just couldn't see it? You think that I believe that for one second, you - "

Before he could register what was happening, she had leapt at him and attacked his lips with hers. Taken by surprise, he froze and the weight of her body made him fall backwards onto the bed. She was straddling him and clenching her thighs around his hips for all that she was worth and the moment his brain recovered from the shock, it was too late. There was a gasp at the doorway.

He recognized the sharp intake of breath. Buffy. Then he realized what Drusilla was doing. Shit.

"Get off me, you bitch," he pushed her away forcefully and she landed on the floor.

He looked up towards his door, but found it empty. At first, he looked around, confused, then he heard rapid footsteps flying down the hall and the front door slam.

"Stay. Away. From. Me," he bit out at the startled dark-haired girl sprawled out on the ground before taking off after Buffy. The one girl - the only girl - that still mattered.

…………

Buffy fought the streams of tears falling down her face as she tore through the trees, blindly letting her feet lead her to wherever she was going. And I believed him, she sobbed, doubling over to clutch at her sides.

It had been almost a week since their talk. He had asked for a chance and she had turned away, but apparently, being without him for too long made her physically start to ache, so much so, that she had decided that whatever anger and betrayal that was between them wasn't worth it. She had come to work things out, finally, only to be greeted with this.

Her stomach lurched forward as the image popped back up into her mind. Drusilla straddling Spike. Drusilla kissing Spike. On his bed.

"Buffy!" she heard him calling her and felt her heart jump. Damnit, Buffy closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.

"Go away," she whispered to herself, not ready to face him. Everywhere he went, there was heartbreak. When he was with her, he broke her heart. When he was away, he still broke her heart. It was inevitable, this heartbreak.

"Buffy!"

His voice sounded much closer now and before she could move, two strong arms wrapped around her waist and she collided into a hard chest.

"No, Spike," Buffy struggled, but Spike held fast, tightening his arms.

"Buffy, listen to me," he spoke urgently, quietly trying to reason with her rage. "That wasn't what it looked like."

She scoffed and shoved him hard, finally breaking away. "Nothing ever is what it looks like with you, is it, Spike?" she spat out.

His face screwed up in a pained expression and he looked away.

"I deserve that," he murmured.

"You deserve so much more."

Spike was silent for a moment and when he looked into her eyes, they were burning, pleading.

"She kissed me, love," he tried again, "Not the other way around."

A tiny section of her anger chipped off, but the seed was already planted. The doubt was already buried deep.

"And you were just an unwilling participant," she raised an eyebrow. When he nodded she glared, "You didn't look so unwilling."

"That's because I was surprised! She jumped me the second you came in!"

"How convenient," Buffy grunted. Spike made a frustrated sound and threw his arms in the air.

"I swear it, Buffy. You have to believe me!"

She regarded him with a still gaze. "And why should I ever believe you?"

A few seconds passed with complete and utter silence between the two of them. When Spike finally spoke, it was tired and withdrawn. A statement that sounded so defeated, so hopeful, so full of sadness that it came out a whisper, almost inaudible in the wind.

"Because I love you," he said.


Author's Not: I've decided to actually finish all my stories. I'm getting back into the flow now, but updates will still be a little slow, what with college apps, interviews, and school being incredibly annoying.

Chapter Eleven

Buffy stared at him, wide-eyed. Those were words she never expected coming out of his mouth. Wished? Yes. Dreamt about? Every night. But never, ever had she thought he would tell her right out.

"You… what?" she whispered, voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

"Buffy," he grimaced, his face pained, as if saying the words physically hurt him. "I love you."

There they were again. Those words. Was she dreaming again? Probably not, she realized, her eyes hardening again. If it had been a dream, Drusilla would not have existed.

"Are you sure?" she asked, instantly cringing and regretting her words. Why did she have to sound so vulnerable? So hopeful?

His features softened and he ventured closer to her, bringing a hand up to gently caress her cheek with the back of his knuckles. Spike felt like he was about to burst open, explode, emotionally combust. Just the fact that she didn't shy away from him was enough for now.

"I've never been more sure, love," he murmured, taking another step towards her. He was so close now that she had to crane her neck upwards slightly to look him in the eye. Spike ducked his head down and rested the side of his face against her neck, breathing slowly against her shoulder. "I can't help it, this feeling. I've been fighting for so long and - "

His voice broke off and Buffy closed her eyes, trying to control her body's shaking. She felt him press his lips against the curve of her neck and shivered.

"I'm so sorry, Buffy."

God, she thought, taking a deep breath. He smelled good and was it really a bad thing that all she wanted was to fall into his arms?

"Sorry for what?" she asked. His arms crept around her body and pulled her even closer.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he looked into her eyes for a split second, and before she could think, his lips were on hers.

At first, she froze. His kiss wasn't gentle. It was desperate. And damn if she wasn't desperate, either. Her eyes slid closed and her arms found their own way around his neck and suddenly, she was being hauled up against a tree, pinned between his body and the grating, hard bark.

Everything in the world told her that this was stupid and yet… she couldn't stop. So much was left unsaid and yet… it didn't really need to be said. All that mattered right now was his mouth against hers.

When he pulled back, he was panting and rested his forehead against hers.

"This… doesn't solve anything," she tried to say, but she could feel her resolve breaking. Damn her weakness.

He stiffened for a few seconds before relaxing and pressing his soft lips to her cheek.

"That means there's something to be solved then, yeah?" he asked, voice husky and deep and she just really wanted him to kiss her again. "It means that you're not going to give up on me?"

She laughed humorlessly and nodded, burying her face into his shoulder.

"I like you too much to just give up," she sighed.

For a while, they stayed like that, holding onto each other as tightly as they could. Buffy's thoughts wandered to darker moments and memories, but Spike's light breathing seemed to always pull her out of them. He was so very real and so very hard, so very much in front of her and so very there. And for now, she mused, that's all I'll ask for.


…………

Things always seemed different at night. It didn't matter that Spike's arm was draped around her waist or that she could feel the hard lines of his body pressed up against hers as he held her. It didn't matter that the soreness of an entire afternoon together was keeping her up or that he told her again and again how much he loved her.

At night, words were shadows and shadows lurked, dodged, and never stayed in one place. At night, the boulders you leaned on disappeared and all you had was yourself. And it was at night when the doubts piled up again.

Buffy sat up and Spike's arm fell to the side. She looked at him for a few seconds to make sure he didn't wake up, then slowly stood and tip-toed to the door of Spike's bedroom.

The entire house was dark and quiet as she made her way through the halls and into the bathroom.

"I can't do this," she whispered to her reflection after she flicked on the lights and closed the door.

Who were they fooling? Maybe Spike thought he loved her - but she was going back to school in less than a month. They would never work.

They were such different people. He was… impulsive. His emotions were extremes, he was overwhelming. He had hurt her once. He could do it again, so easily. Buffy twisted the knob and put her hands under the faucet, barely flinching when the icy cold water splashed her skin.

The water on her face cleared her mind a bit and she knew what she had to do.

The bathroom lights closed and she tip-toed back down the hallway into Spike's room. When she slipped through his door, he grunted, twisting in his sheets. She looked at him, sleeping with the pillow nestled in his arms and almost forgot her plan. His pale skin reflected the moonlight shining through the window and she found herself reaching towards him.

At the last minute, she retracted her hand.

"Goodbye," she whispered and turned around, walking out of his room, out of his house, and into her car.

She couldn't cry. She was too empty to cry. Instead, she picked up her cell phone and called the airport.

…………

It was morning. He smiled, remembering everything that happened the other day - the words, the kisses, the way she felt in his arms… he opened his eyes and squinted.

The sheets were rumpled and her scent still lingered, but she was gone.

…………

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Angel asked, a weary smile on his face. Buffy bit her lip. No, she didn't know what she was doing anymore.

"Yeah," she lied, reaching out to hug her big brother. "I miss Boston and it's better for me to go back early."

Angel just sighed and shook his head before pressing a kiss on her forehead.

For a long moment, they stood there, smiling at each other.

"Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Buffy grinned. "I love you. Don't be a stranger - feel free to visit or call or write or email or - "

"Yeah, yeah," he rolled his eyes, then pushed her towards the security check-in. "Get out of here."

She laughed and backed away, waving.

I wont regret this, she thought to herself, turning around and getting into line. I'll go back home and forget any of this ever happened.



-----------------------------------------------

AN: Don't worry, this isn't the end! One or two more chapters to go. Hopefully, it'll be done within the week - Spring break and all that.

Chapter Twelve

It's good to be back, Buffy repeated to herself as she piled into the taxi cab. The driver slammed the trunk shut after stuffing her luggage bags in and she shivered. It's over. It's all over.

Now, she could focus on what was important - finishing her degree and getting the hell out of… out of what? Life? She shook her head.

"Where to, miss?" the cab driver asked, twisting around. She blinked and realized that she hadn't given him an address yet. She quickly told him and sat back, slowly breathing in and out, trying to relax.

Thoughts of him floated around and she snapped her eyes shut, trying to drown out the images. The pangs in her stomach was even harder to ignore.

Before she could think, she pressed speed dial #5. Faith. Roommate and best friend - it had been too long since they talked.

The phone rang twice before it picked up.

"B! Finally! I thought you upped and forgot about me for a while," Faith's laughing voice flooded her ear and Buffy couldn't help but smile. Her spirits lifted. Marginally.

"Got caught up in a couple of things - you know," she sighed.

"No, I don't know. I haven't heard from you since… what… last May? What kinda best friend are you, girl?"

Buffy winced.

"Sorry about that."

"Nah, it's no big." There was a little pause, then, "So, what's up?"

"I'm heading back to the apartment."

"Now? Why!?"

"Yeah. Uh, some things came up… I just couldn't stay at the lake anymore."

Her head was throbbing and suddenly, she didn't feel like talking anymore.

"Look," she said evenly, "I'm … really tired right now. Sorry, I just called to tell you I was coming back. Can I call you back later?"

"Yeah, girl. No problem," Faith's voice was softer. "Call me whenever, okay? I'll be back sometime next week."

"Right. Bye."

She snapped her phone shut and buried her face in her hands.

…………

The apartment felt empty without Faith in it. Her heart felt even more empty as she looked at the dull furniture, the dusty surfaces, the dim lights. She dropped her bags and suitcases on the floor and walked into the kitchen.

"Damn," she muttered as she surveyed the empty refrigerator and even emptier pantry. Her shoulders slumped as she leaned back against the walls and took a deep breath. It's the right thing to do.

…………

After an hour of trying to get the cable to work, Buffy gave up. She grabbed her purse off the counter and headed out of the apartment.

You just left him there without a note. How could you?

It wouldn't have worked out anyways.

But you didn't even try.

I did! And all that got me was a broken heart!

That's just an excuse. He loves you for god's sakes.

Not really.

Yes really.

Before she knew it, she was situated at her old, familiar barstool at Willy's, slamming down a tequila shot, and gasping as it burnt her throat. The music and voices surrounding her blended into one, never-ending throb of sound and she winced, trying to melt into nothing.

Thankfully, nobody came up to her or tried to talk to her. Nobody bothered noticing her except for the bartender - and even he didn't say much to her. Maybe it was her icy attitude or the withdrawn look in her eyes … or maybe it was the yummy sushi pajama set that she was still wearing and the loose, messy ponytail she'd put up her unwashed hair in. Buffy wrinkled her nose, feeling defeated.

"Something bothering you, miss?" a friendly voice asked from her left. She looked up from her glass and made a guttural, non-committing sound. The man was looking at her curiously; not in a way that made her feel wanted, but instead, made her feel like a freak-show character in the circus.

"I'm a coward," she whispered, more to herself than the man staring at her.

"Ah, aren't we all."

"But it's not my fault," she informed him, filling up her shot glass once more. "He's a jerk. A big, fat, ugly, no-good jerk. With commitment issues. He snores and he kisses other people to try to get me jealous, he cares too much about his face, he tells me he loves me, and he's annoying. I hate him. I absolutely hate him!"

"Sound like a keeper," he was chuckling at her and she suddenly felt tired. "Where is he?"

"Back in the woods where I left him," she answered, miserably. The man raised his eyebrows, amused, and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.

"Did you kill him?"

She snorted and winced. "No. I left him in his bed and flew back home."

"Harsh."

"Maybe. I need to go."

With that, she turned tail and headed out of the bar, feeling infinitely worse.

What have I done?

You saved yourself from inevitable hurt. Or so you keep trying to remind yourself.

Shut up.

…………

A week later, Buffy Summers felt like she was on top of the world and could take on anything flung her way. She had gotten herself together, gone shopping with money she didn't have to spend, met up with friends, caught up with professors, and did everything under the sun to insure her sanity. It was just too bad for her that the world had other plans.

Because the one thing she wasn't ready for was the person sitting on the front steps of her apartment building when she stepped out of the taxi after returning slightly tipsy from a friend's get-together across Boston.

The words fled her mouth and sanity fled her brain. That had to be the reason, because there was absolutely no way, no how -

"Buffy," he said. That was it. One whispered word and she was ready to collapse. When her knees gave way, he lurched forward to catch her before she could tumble to the cemented sidewalk.

"What - how are you here?" she found herself asking, leaning into his arms, clutching his biceps as if to make sure he was real, solid. Her voice choked.

"I talked to your brother," he admitted. It was then when she noticed the little cuts on his skin and the slight coloring surrounding his left eye. "We got into a little tiff."

At her horrified look, he quickly added, "But we worked things out. Have a little understanding now, you know?"

She violently shook her head and took a deep breath. "That's not what I meant. I mean, why…"

"Don't you know?"

When she didn't answer, he shook his head and reached out, pushing a stray strand of hair away from her eyes. She shivered at the contact and swallowed hard.

"I'll always be waiting for you, love. Right here. At your doorstep."

…………

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting across from each other in Buffy's living room, both uncertain, both a little nervous.

"How is this going to work, Spike?" she asked, knowing he didn't know but wanting to hear his answer all the same.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he sighed. "Look. I've never been good at relationships. I screw up, I say things in the heat of the moment, and I can be a real bloody wanker when it comes down to it. Even when I was with Drusilla, I never really gave her my all. We nearly broke up about a million times because of it."

"That's really reassuring. Thanks for that."

The sarcasm soaked her words and he held out a hand to silence her.

"Now wait a second, pet. I have my issues and I know you have yours. We're both so goddamn new to this, but the hell I want to just leave it as it is. I think we've got something really good going on," he grabbed her hands and locked their fingers together. "Well, the beginnings of something really good if we both try."

"I don't know - "

"You haven't even heard me out," he interrupted. "When I say try, I mean it. No running away when something goes a bit wrong, no turning our backs on the other, no holding back, period. I love you, Buffy. And - "

"I love you, too."

Her words were so sudden, so quiet that he stopped talking altogether.

His smile was so gradual that she nearly started to laugh, but all she could muster was a small squeeze of his hands in hers.

"Say that again," he whispered, leaning forward until their foreheads were almost touching.

"I love you."

"Does that mean what I think it means?" he questioned, moving even closer. "You're going to give me a chance?"

She looked down, but he brought a finger to her chin and lifted her head up.

"I know how life feels without you in it," she said slowly. "And I'm beginning to realize that it's better when you are in it, and - "

She was cut off by his lips on hers.

…………

It was different that night. Lighter. Less frantic and more slow, more love than lust, more touching than fucking. They talked now, giggled about things, commented about random nothings.

He told her that her bed was softer than his and she said it was better that way. He told her he didn't bloody care, as long as she was there right next to him and she laughed.

"I love you so much," he murmured against her neck as his hands ventured across her belly and toward the junction of her thighs. "So bloody much."

She shivered and he groaned against her.

"You don't have to be so wonderful anymore," she gasped into his ear as a finger slipped into her folds. Her palms flattened over his shoulder blades and held him close. "You've already gotten me in bed, I'm pretty sure that's a positive sign."

He agreed with a grin and nipped at her throat on the way up to her lips. "But I need to make sure you stay with me forever and ever, yeah?"

Her legs hooked around his and her hips arched up as he positioned himself over her.

"Forever, huh?"

She gasped as he filled her, curved her back up to increase body contact, hissed as he bit her shoulder.

"Sounds good, yeah?" he grunted as he started a slow, languid rhythm. Her bedsprings squeaked in protest as they moved together.

"Is that a proposal?" she asked, burying her fingers in his hair, then trailing her nails down his muscled back. His hands were everywhere at once, re-memorizing her curves, exploring areas where nobody would have thought existed.

"Mm," he moaned. His thrusts grew deeper, faster. "Do you want it to be?"

She looked into his eyes as he stilled his hips for a prolonged, anguishing moment, waiting for her answer. She trailed her index finger over his cheekbone and lifted her head up to press her lips to his. His mouth instantly opened and his tongue met hers, joining in a complicated dance where only they knew the steps. He couldn't help but move again - the intensity was too much.

The headboard was pounding into the wall now, but neither of them cared. As they neared their climax, Buffy leaned up and whispered into his ear.

"Eventually."

He smiled against her skin and held her tight as they both went soaring over the edge into oblivion.

Eventually never sounded more promising.

…………

It was late at night - or early in the morning - and Spike's stomach was growling violently. He breathed in deeply and smiled, taking in Buffy's purely feminine scent as strands of blond hair tickled his nose. His arms tightened around her sleeping form and he nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck.

After hours of the best kind of sex, they'd settled in and just talked, both pleasantly sore and completely tired to even bother getting up from bed.

He had never been more content. Except now, his stomach was demanding nourishment - and not the sexual kind, either. Sighing, he pushed himself up from the bed and carefully climbed over Buffy, making sure he didn't wake her. She made a quiet, mewling sound and rolled around, wrapping her arms around her pillow.

He froze, staring at her body as the sheet fell low on her hip. Of course he wanted her again, he glared at his slowly hardening friend. He always wanted her.

Forcing himself to leave the bedroom, he closed the door behind him and padded into the kitchen, naked.

As he was opening the refrigerator, the front door opened and he froze.

Who was it? A burglar? Buffy's friend?

A distinctly feminine voice was whistling as the door closed again and a body moved down the hall. There was a soft clicking sound and suddenly, light flooded the apartment.

"AHHHH!" a dark-haired girl shrieked when she caught site of him - a strange man - standing in the kitchen, holding a carton of orange juice.

He yelped and dropped the carton, moving his hands to cover himself.

"Who the fuck are you?" she screamed, lunging forward to whack him with her purse.

The bedroom door opened as he tried to fend her off with one arm and cover himself with the other.

"What do you want with Buffy? Why are you here? Who the hell - "

"Faith?"

Buffy's sleepy voice cut her off and they both turned to see the blonde enter the kitchen, holding a sheet around her body. Spike leapt to her side and clutched her in his arms, placing her protectively in front of him and any exposed body parts.

"Buffy! What the hell is going on?"

Buffy grinned and shrugged, sheepishly.

"Faith, meet Spike. Spike, meet Faith. And it's really, really early, so if you don't mind, I'm going back to sleep."

She handed Spike a pillow she was holding in her hand and ambled back in her bedroom. He placed the pillow in front of his crotch and stared, wide-eyed at the surprised Faith.

Faith crossed her arms over her chest. "So, Spike," she said cautiously, measuring him up. "What are your intentions?"

A small smile crept up his face.

"I'm going to marry that woman."




THE END.
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Author's Note: It's finished! I think the last few chapters have been just a bit rushed and I might go back and re-write them, but for now, I'm happy with it the way it is.

I know I promised this chapter FOREVER ago, but I was really, really busy.

Annd.... for my good news. I got into Columbia University!! (dances) That's pretty much what's been keeping me busy. I didn't really get an ideal financial aid package and was working on scholarship apps, etc.

I'm not abandoning any of my stories - just slowing down a lot. They WILL eventually all be finished.

And I just have to say this - the Buffy community is one of the most accepting, kindest fandoms out there. You all have been so great and patient and I'm so very grateful for that. Thanks!