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.