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05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
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10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
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Great post.
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And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
08/31/16 03:43 pm
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Authors Chapter Notes:
Don't hate me for another new story. Please? I am not abandoning MHIY or TMSLL. Those are dear to my heart still. This one has been nagging me and it won't leave me alone...so without further ado....

Chapter One

“Life is one fool thing after another whereas love is two fool things after each other.” ~ Oscar Wilde

“Yhello,” Buffy said into her cell phone as she sped down her road, on her way home.

“Hey, pet.”

She smiled at the sound of William “Spike” Giles’s voice, her much older best guy friend. In her mind’s eye, she could see him: His white blond hair, stunning blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, and patented smirk in place. “Hello there, Casanova. How you doin’?”

He chuckled, “Oh, just peachy.”

“Nothing ever good comes out of you saying that. What happened?”

“You don’t need to sound like that,” he mock grumbled.

“Like what? Like I know you?” she laughed, her green eyes sparkling in delight.

“You know, you’re getting too big for your britches.”

She laughed again, “Honestly, Spike. Who says that? Maybe we need to take a trip back to the 1800’s when they might have thrown that phrase around.”

“You trying to tell me I’m old? Was that a shot at my age?”

“Would I do that?” she said in mock innocence.

“Yeah, Summers, you would.”

“I think you’re just sensitive.”

“Well, you’d be sensitive too if your best friend was twelve years younger than you.”

“You best be talking about me,” she warned him.

“Naturally, pet.”

“Well, my best friend has gaggles of women after him –“

“Cause I’m famous, no other reason than that, luv.”

“Are we feeling a quart low on our self-esteem today?” she scolded him.

“No, not really. . . Well, Harmony’s right pissed at me.”

Buffy refrained from saying ‘Thank God’ to that because really, she couldn’t stand the blond twit.

“I hear you’re mind workin’ over there Summers, I know what you’re thinking.”

“And that is. . . ?”

“That you never liked Harmony?”

“Well, okay, yes. She’s a . . . dumbass, William.”

“Ah, but a hot dumbass.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Spike, honestly, what do you see in her?”

“I see her adoring me, and I see me getting laid on a regular basis.”

“You’re disgusting,” Buffy told him, only half kidding.

“Well, when you get to be my age—“

“When I get to be your age I can only hope that I’m as successful as you and I really hope I’m –“she stopped abruptly. “Never mind.”

“What? Say it, pet. You’re nothing but honest with me, so say it.”

“No,” she said stubbornly. “Listen, I gotta go. I’m home now and I’ve got shit to do.”

“Oh? Got a date tonight?”

“Something like that,” she said on a sigh and parked her car in the parking lot in front of her apartment building.

“Who is he? Is he –“

“Goodbye, Spike.”


Clicking her phone shut, Buffy sighed heavily and slid her phone in her purse. He irked her sometimes, he really did. The man was famous – a Television star, having made it big playing a futuristic role as a vampire-made-cop. He was the lead, and he got much press for it, alongside his lovely female co-star who was rumored to be the ‘next big thing’. The show, ‘Vampire Chronicles’ was a cult classic and as such, Spike would sometimes travel all over the world making appearances at conventions.

It was at such a convention that Buffy had met him. She’d been dragged to a convention by her younger sister who begged and begged for her to go. It was really the only way Dawn would have been able to go since their parents flat out refused to take her. So, sixteen year old Dawn got to go with twenty – six year old Buffy as her escort.

How it happened, she was still not clear on to this day, only that she had the distinct impression that Spike’s initial reasoning for engaging her so thoroughly in conversation with him, was that he wanted to sleep with her. She made it loud and clear that wasn’t going to happen, and he backed off, but in turn made it clear he wanted to keep in touch. She thought he was full of crap, for what thirty-eight year old would want to pursue a friendship with someone twelve years younger -- and someone famous no less? She balked at him, but gave him her phone number – only the cell – and was incredibly surprised when he actually called.

Thus began the, so far, one and a half year friendship between the pair. Spike confided in her, told her she was the only one he could really talk to and called her his best friend. She, feeling the freedom of never actually having to see him very often, and therefore feeling quite free to express herself to him, considered him to be her best friend as well. Her best guy friend.

It worked because of the distance, she often thought, but then again, with someone as charismatic as Spike was, who knew. The man oozed charm; mostly using that charm to bed many fans (all female, mind you) and women just casually met on the street.

If only he’d use his powers for good.

And Buffy hated hearing about it. In the beginning she was shocked to hear his exploits and stunned when he’d say things like “I love women. I love every bone in their body. Especially mine.” Then she’d heard Steven Tyler from Aerosmith say the same line and called him not only a pervert, but a plagiarist. She’d reached some kind of plateau for a while where she’d listen to him go on about his harem and it hadn’t bothered her too much, but as of late it’d gotten to the point where she just didn’t want to hear about it anymore. It irked her on many levels.

She thought his behavior ill fitted to a man of his age; a man that at thirty-nine should be settling down and busying himself with family. A man that shouldn’t be skirt chasing, basically, children, who couldn’t remember a time when there were no cell phones and internet, and who thought the Care Bears were a new cartoon just released for kids.

She also thought it ill of his behavior to be dating women closer in age to his ten year old daughter than him. What kind of message was he sending her? And for all those that did not accept Alicia, Buffy’s heart ached for the girl. The girl she’d met on a few occasions and felt a bond with, for no particular reason aside from the fact that they just inexplicably clicked.

Having to hear about Harmony was pretty much it for Buffy on her tolerance meter. The blond twit was a pop singer, close to the likes of Britney Spears, however, Harmony was so bad, Buffy found herself actually defending Miss Spears against Harmony when the press seemed keen on comparing the two. When she found herself defending Britney Spears, Buffy knew that things had to change; she just didn’t know how, or to even what exactly.


“So, you’re on vacation soon, huh Buffy?” Willow Rosenberg, Buffy’s best friend asked, rather perkily, later that evening as they sat in a booth having dinner and drinks.

Buffy gave her a funny look, “Yeah, starting Friday. For two whole weeks.”

“You must be excited!” Willow’s green eyes were alight in fake joy.

“What’s going on? Not that I don’t mind you being perky and all, but you’re being weird, and it’s kind of freaking me out.”

Willow’s shoulders sagged and she gave Buffy a look as she stabbed her chicken breast. “I’m being perky because you’re being grumpy girl.”

“I am not being grumpy girl!” Buffy exclaimed indignantly. “How am I being grumpy girl?”

“You’ve barely listened to a word I’ve said, you’re poking at your pasta and have this sullen ‘oh woe is me’ look on your face.”

Buffy sighed and sat back, putting her fork down. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, I’m just . . . frustrated.”


Buffy looked at her, “Why do you think it’s him?”

“Because lately it usually is him. He call you to tell you the many ways he did Harmony?”

“They broke up.”

“Then you should be happy! Rejoicing. I know I am,” Willow commented, flipping her red hair over shoulder.

“Yeah, because you’re just as tired of hearing about her as I am.”

“Well, I’m not going to lie, but yes. Though I think my happiness is for different reasons.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean,” and she stuffed a forkful of chicken in her mouth. “Why aren’t you more happy?”

Buffy quirked a brow, “That your clever way of sidetracking me?”

“Yep, though it didn’t work.”

“Not in the least.”

“Oh well. But, not telling, so why don’t you answer me instead?”

“I am happy that they’re not together anymore, but I’m…I think I’m bracing myself.”

Willow looked at her funny, “For?”

Buffy sighed, forlorn, “For the next ‘relationship’.”

****“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.” ~ Oscar Wilde ****

William “Spike” Giles sat on his balcony overlooking the rising sun. Bringing his cigarette to his mouth, he took a drag and sat back in the lounger.

Ah, the quiet. These were the best moments. Though, it was strange, not to mention contradictory, for him to feel that way. He thrived in crowds, loved being the center of attention.

Loved being adored and wanted, essentially. All eyes on him, basking in him. He chuckled as he remembered Buffy saying to him once, “There’s no conceit in your family, you have it all.”

He supposed he did. He knew the truth though; he knew that underneath that Leo-like exterior that thrived on being in the spotlight, he knew there was the heart of a poet underneath it all. The heart of a poet that did yearn for something more than one-night-stands and flings with girls who could be heard asking “Wow, so what were the seventies like? I wasn’t even born yet!”

Buffy was born in 1979; she was twenty-seven now and had a head on her shoulders befitting a man of his age. He had a head on his shoulder befitting a man of her age. Mostly because he thought with the head between his legs.

She’d been upset with him the night before, he knew it. He heard exasperation in her voice and it irked him. It also irked him that she had a date and he knew nothing about it. Then, she’d practically hung up on him. She was bothered by something and while he’d been tempted to call her back, he knew that when she was in a mood it was best to give her, her space.

Looking at his clock and calculating what time it was on the east coast, Spike figured it might not be best to wake her up on a Saturday morning. Waking Buffy was akin to rousing a bear. Not a good idea.

“Spike,” came a sleepy female voice from his bedroom. “Where are you?”

Spike stood and crushed his cigarette in the nearby ashtray. “Be there in a minute, luv.”

Taking a deep breath, Spike made his way into his bedroom, set on pleasing the woman he’d chosen to warm his bed the night before.

Was it sad that he couldn’t even remember her name? All he’d been interested in at the time was that the beauty wanted him, in fact, flirted openly with him, and knew who he was. She claimed she was his biggest fan.

“So,” Spike purred, slipping into bed, and inside the brunette lying wantonly on his bed,

“Still my biggest fan?”

She giggled, “Oh yes, baby, the biggest.”

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