You are my Sunshine
by Joan Revello

DISCLAIMER: The characters are Joss', of course.
LAST TIME ON BUFFY: This is set mid season five, after Intervention. Riley is gone, Joyce is dead and Buffy knows that Spike is in love with her. She's also feeling a little grateful towards him because he stood up to Glory.
 

chap 1

Buffy could feel his eyes on her. Spike had been getting less discreet since Riley left—following her while she was on patrol, watching her fight. She knew she should feel annoyed. For all she knew he was watching her fight just so he could learn how to defeat her in case he ever actually got rid of that chip. For the billionth time, Buffy thanked the Initiative and the Higher Power of Technology for the implant, wondering why it was that Spike had always seemed so hard to kill.

Still…since last week’s discovery of the Buffybot, Buffy had to admit that she was pretty sure Spike wasn’t watching her to learn her weaknesses. It was weird. Giles and Xander were furious. Willow was too grossed out to think about it. Buffy was grossed out too—less by the bot than the discovery that Spike had been swiping stuff from her house. At the same time, though…Buffy was having a hard time shaking the feeling that a part of her—hopefully a small part—was really flattered. She kept trying to chalk it up to that jolt of adrenalin you get when random obnoxious people honk their horns at you, but she wasn’t sure she was buying her own lies and Dawn certainly wasn’t helping.

“Jeez, Buff,” she’d said, smirking. “Spike must really like you a lot if he’d go to the trouble of building a robot version of you just to play..um..checkers with.”

Buffy rolled her eyes at the mere memory of Tara’s weak attempt to cover the truth. Tara was sweet and Buffy knew it, but sometimes the innocent act could get a little old. Not that she’d ever tell Willow that. There led the way to friendship destruction and Buffy needed her friends right now, even Spike—whatever his reasons. Besides, she’d been with Willow as the bot was slowly stripped of some of its more unusual programming. Willow had insisted on making an inventory of what she removed—in the name of science, she’d said—and though Buffy had been nervous at first, Spike’s specs hadn’t really been that horrible. Considering.

There hadn’t been any truly degrading sex scenarios. Well, sure. She hadn’t really wanted to know what Spike’s dream blow job would be like, but sitting there listening as Willow counted off the number of times and the number of different ways the bot had been programmed to say, “I love you,” Buffy had kind of felt bad for the vamp. He must be so lonely. She couldn’t blame him. She felt lonely a lot of the time too.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Compassion for Spike led to nothing but badness. That was why Riley had left. Or at least that was her current theory. Buffy was still having trouble coming to grips with the fact that she’d apparently never really opened up to Riley. It’s not like she’d been barring him on purpose. Hello! Bad history! It’s not her fault there were walls a’plenty in the land of Buffyheart. Riley had gotten so mad when he’d seen Spike and Buffy sparring—Buffy still felt like that was the trigger for the typically messy end to her latest relationship. Walking through the cemetery on autopilot, she pursed her lips as she remembered.

********************

It had seemed simple enough. The gang had gathered at the Magic Box for a Scooby meeting in an effort to continue the never-ending search for information about Glory. Buffy hadn’t read a word for over half an hour as she sat staring at the crystal in front of her. She was pretending to practice one of Giles’ meditation exercises, but really she was bored, itching to fight something and Giles had already rejected the possibility of training.

“Research mode. We’re in research mode,” he’d scolded.

So when Spike’s platinum head had appeared as he arrived through the Magic Box’s basement, she’d jumped at the chance to move. It was daytime, which was why Spike had come through the sewers, so no patrolling, but surely Giles couldn’t object to sparring with Spike. He was by far her best training opponent. Even with the chip, since it only went off if he hurt or intended to hurt someone, Spike could still fight back harder than Giles or Riley combined—not that she would ever have told them this—but still.

Buffy had jumped up from her seat at the table. Realizing a second too late that she probably looked a little overeager. “Spike!”

He looked at her, eyes widening. Buffy had no idea that he was able to sense her boredom from across the room. From his point of view the Slayer’s body was attempting to explode with each beat of her heart. Still he didn’t let on, forcing himself to look nonchalant while secretly reveling in the possibility that Buffy viewed him as something that might alleviate her boredom. “Yeah? That’s my name, luv. Something I can do for you?” He picked up a random trinket, tossing it in the air until he felt Giles’ forbidding gaze. Replacing it, he looked Buffy in the eye for the first time since he entered the shop.

Buffy was looking at him expectantly, with a slight quirk in her smile. She was in a good mood, even if she was bored. “I was thinking we could spar a little.” Her gaze slid nervously to Giles, but he remained absorbed in whatever unintelligible text he was reading. “I’m going a little stir crazy, and since no matter what we learn about Glory I can’t imagine that we’ll find a solution not involving my fighting her, I need all the practice I can get.” She nodded her head smartly, smiling bigger. That had actually sounded like a legitimate reason. Returning her eyes to Spike’s face, his impassiveness sent a brief flare of irritation through her. He never could just go with the flow.

She started to step towards him, her frustration reaching his body only seconds after her own. “Sure,” he said lightly, beginning to move in the direction of the back. “Long as Giles doesn’t mind?” He looked at the watcher inquiringly.

“Mmmhmm. Of course,” Giles waved his hands at them as if Buffy and Spike were gnats trying to obscure the words in front of him.

Buffy’s mouth, which had opened in preparation to defend herself, snapped shut. She was surprised that Spike had thought to ask the watcher’s permission, but refrained from pressing the matter. She didn’t want to aggravate Spike just when he was finally being useful by providing her an escape. She turned on her heal and Spike followed her to the back.

Shutting the door behind them, he noted that Buffy’s muscles already seemed more relaxed. Tossing his duster in a corner, he turned toward her. “What are we playing at then, bit?” He watched her turn around as she taped her wrists. She was wearing loose, but well-cut leather pants that hugged the curve of her ass. Spike loved how small she was, but appreciated her ability to look strong. Tiny yes. Fragile no. She’d taken off her sweater, leaving only a tank top that skimmed the top of her low cut pants. She didn’t answer his question as he stared at her. “You really ought to come up with more fighting-appropriate attire, Slayer. Wearing stuff like that is like having neon lights over your head, blinking “Come Bite Me.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, remaining focused on her wrists. “Better that vamps try to bite me than any of the other unsuspecting girls who refuse to give up the right to bare some shoulder. At least I can fight back.” She refused to let Spike’s barbs interfere with her happiness over escaping research mode. More like water torture mode.

Spike waited, trying not to stare as she stretched out. He bit back more than a few choice comments as the Slayer slowly stretched her legs against the wall before suddenly surprising him by dropping to the floor in an instantaneous split. God she was flexible. He felt a growl at the back of his throat, but suppressed it, beginning his own stretch routine in an effort to distract himself.

Buffy was aware of the effect she’d just had on Spike, but she didn’t care. She was bemused really. Not like it meant anything and it was a hard call as to whether a quiet Spike oogling her was worse than a pissy Spike harping at her.

Done stretching, she returned to the center of the room, waiting for Spike. He stopped his routine immediately, facing off about ten feet from where she stood. Something was different tonight. He could tell. They’d been in the same room for five minutes and she hadn’t yelled at him yet. Spike smirked slightly as he contemplated how much Buffy must hate research if fighting with him was that much better. Not that he was complaining. Fighting with Buffy. Watching Buffy fight. These were some of his favorite past times.

She had almost reached him before he noticed she’d started moving. Damn it Spike! Pay attention. She won’t like sparring with you if aren’t any good at it. Just hope you don’t go and get aroused like last time. Thankfully, the vamp remembered, she hadn’t noticed, but no use risking it.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, attempting to land a right hook on his cheekbone. Too sharp for his own good, she thought, looking at his perfectly white face. Marring it just a bit might be a little satisfying.

Spike shrugged, deflecting another blow and attempting to scissor kick her. Or at least pretending to attempt to scissor kick her. “I was just realizing exactly how much you hate research. I mean, if this is actually considered an improvement.”

Buffy smirked. “Yeah. You caught me. I’m desperate. For the last ten minutes or so I was actually considering asking Anya to teach me how to balance my checkbook. Even that seemed entertaining.” Talking didn’t break her rhythm and the two continued silently for several minutes—their violent dance punctuated only by the odd grunt.

Spike was enjoying this. Buffy was starting to work up a sweat and he was alone with her. Alone with a sweaty Buffy. He smirked again, hoping she wouldn’t ask why this time.

Weird, Buffy thought. He’s actually not being a prick. Huh? I hope he doesn’t think he can demand money for sparring with me. I’m not paying him to be my personal punching bag.

As if reading her thoughts, he said, “Now this is good. I mean, it’s not real violence, but at least I can pretend. Makes me feel useful.” He lowered his head, surprised he’d said anything that might hint at his need to feel useful. Suddenly, Spike was up against the wall, the Slayer’s elbow aimed at his neck as she held him up. Blustering, Spike looked at her. “What’s this all about.”

“Pay attention,” she said. “I’m not looking for a walk in the park Spike. I know you can do better than this, even with that chip in your head.”

“Fine then,” he said, eyes darkening. They’d started fighting in earnest after that. Buffy’s breathing kept getting louder and Spike’s pupils ever wider. They weren’t using any weapons. Just hand-to-hand, which in Spike’s mind meant lots of Slayer contact. He was really enjoying this game.

Buffy was too. She was even able to hide her shock when, as she started to kick out a foot towards the vamp, she noticed the lump in his jeans. Turning the kick into a feint, she dove right as Spike attempted to connect his fist with her face. Spike was surprised too. He hadn’t noticed his erection for a while himself and by the time he had, he was afraid to stop and bring attention to it. Still. He’d seen it register in the Slayer’s eyes and yet, she hadn’t done anything. She continued to fight him, touching him when the combat called for it, pretending she hadn’t noticed and Spike couldn’t help wondering why she’d miss an excuse to actually beat him.

When Spike tripped as the Slayer made a dive for him, he didn’t have time to recover before she was on top of him, straddling him. There was no way she didn’t notice now. She was practically grinding it into him.

Sitting on him, her hands pressed into his chest to keep him from moving, she stared down at the vamp. Her pulse was slowing a bit as she rested, though the feel of his cock through both their pants was doing little to sooth her. She knew she should move, but Spike had locked her gaze with his.

“Whatcha doin’, pet?” he said, gazing at her in mild confusion. His hands were on her waist, ready to lift her off, but she seemed frozen. Suddenly her little form squirmed into him, rubbing the denim across his tip.

“That tickles,” she said, giggling. Spike assumed she meant his hands on her waist, not his cock between her legs. Tickle didn’t seem to be a strong enough word for what he could feel there. What is she playing at? He wondered. She should be all angry and “get out of my personal space.” Spike marveled as she continued to sit still, a small smile lingering on her face.

Why don’t I get off? This is soooo weird. Looking down slightly, Buffy couldn’t help wondering if the large bulge she could see and feel was, in fact, representative of Spike’s actual…um…endowment.

Spike watched her bite her lip unconsciously as her gaze slid down. Smirking, Spike tightened his grip on her waist, suddenly lifting her off and flipping over so that he was on top and she was on bottom.

“Hey!” she said, before she realized he already had his arms pinned above her head. “No fair. I—”

“Seems fair to me, luv,” he said, smiling at her. “I let you have a gander at the goodies. You can only be so kind as to return the favor.” Spike leaned forward slowly, ensuring Buffy could feel his cock as it shifted in his pants. She blushed heavily and a small sigh was his reward, but just as his face was almost eye level with hers, she suddenly threw him off.

As he stood up he heard her giggle. Spike looked at her confused. She’s not angry. Wait! She’s not angry. She’s not even a little miffed. Lunging at her, Spike was eager to continue the work out. He liked the sudden turn it had taken, but Buffy seemed ready to return to fighting. Spike could feel the beginnings of bruises as the Slayer began to enjoy herself, relaxing her need to hold back in the fight.

Panting, she said, “If I hurt you, just let me know. I’m so used to sparring with regular people, it’s hard for me to be sure I don’t—”

“You won’t hurt me, luv” Spike growled as he and the slayer moved in circles, each waiting for the other to attack. “Even if you did, I’d like it.”

Buffy snorted at that, and Spike was preparing for an angry remark about his own insufficiencies, but, again, Buffy didn’t snap. She didn’t even furrow her brow. Spike froze for an instant. Has she really lost all fear of me? Mortified, Spike suddenly charged, surprising the Slayer as he shoved her against a wall, holding her above him with his hand planted firmly in the center of her chest. He could feel her breathe in and out, could even feel the swell of her firm breasts as they started on either side of his palm. Her heartbeat pattered at a fast, but calm pace.

“Well, Spike, I guess—” Buffy started to giggle.

“Put her down, Spike.” Spike froze, suddenly aware of Riley’s looming presence as he stepped forward from the shadows. He tried to let the Slayer down gently, reaching out his other hand to steady her as the one pressed against her chest relaxed, but Riley stopped him.

“Don’t touch her.” When, in the bleeding hell, did he get here? Spike wondered. Clearly, Buffy was wondering the same thing. Their eyes met briefly in confusion and Spike felt a pit begin to form in his stomach when he realized that Buffy was nervous. Nervous and upset. And all because the obnoxious commando guy had been watching them spar. Refusing to let himself focus on the fact that Buffy’s worry probably meant she’d been enjoying herself as much as he had, in a less than sparry way, Spike backed up, hands in the air.

“Leave Spike,” Riley’s voice was smooth and low. Spike didn’t want to leave. He really did not like this new boytoy of the slayer’s. He was so possessive of her. So offended by her powers. The aura of worry Spike could feel vibrating off the slayer was stronger than usual, but was becoming an increasingly omnipresent part of her person, especially when soldierboy was around. Spike wanted to say something, furious that Buffy would put up with someone who seemed to constantly try to make her feel like she’d done something wrong.

Buffy turned and looked at him, pleadingly. He nodded, fighting with himself and heading out to the scoobies. It was still daytime. The Iowa boy couldn’t expect him to actually leave the building. As the door shut behind him, Spike waited, hoping to hear whatever exchange was to occur inside.

Buffy’s face had burned, but her thoughts were buzzing. What exactly was that all about? We were just sparring. Staring confusedly at Riley’s face, she realized she needed to say that out loud. Gaining assurance, she put a hand on her hip and tried to look a little annoyed and a lot perplexed. “What. Exactly. Was that all about?” It came out angrier than she intended. She hated how quickly he could put her on edge. How accusatory even his presence sometimes was. “We were just sparring.”

“Uh-huh.” Riley glared at her, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And the fact that he was clearly…how shall I put this…aroused, didn’t seem like a reason that maybe you should stop?”

Riley kept his voice level. Buffy couldn’t decide how to read his tone. She was just so tired. Tired of fighting with him. Tired of assuring him that she didn’t care if he had superpowers or not. Frustrated that he seemed convinced he knew exactly what she wanted, even when she told him other wise. She kept her mouth shut—waiting for more information before she verbally committed to anything.

“I’ve been here for a while, Buffy.” He was staring at her. She tried to look at his eyes, but he was just being so melodramatic. She couldn’t take it. “I’ve been here since you straddled him.” Buffy’s eyes widened. Shit. “I saw you…” his voice trailed off.

“Saw me what?” She was daring him to say it. To suggest it. She didn’t know why any more than she knew why she’d behaved like that with Spike. Well, with Spike it had been fun. Meaningless, but fun. Now, she didn’t know why she said it. I’m tired of justifying everything, explaining.

“I saw you…grind…on him.” The word “grind” was torn from his mouth, guttural and seething. “Why did you do that Buffy? Why?”

Frustrated, Buffy refused to acknowledge what Riley was suggesting. Her voice pure scorn, she said, “You saw me “grind” him? Well Riley I’m sorry if the principles of fighting escaped you, but usually there is some bodily contact with the person whom you’re fighting.” She started to walk away, undoing the tape on her wrists.

Riley’s hand on her arm stopped her, firmly. “You don’t—” he stopped, struggling. “I don’t care about that. Well, I do, but not as much as…You don’t fight like that with me. I’ve told you dozens of times that you can fight me as hard as you want, but you don’t. I just don’t understand what I have to do—”

“Spike’s a vampire, Riley!” Buffy’s voice squeaked. Spike heard it on the other side of the door, grinning slightly with the knowledge that a high-pitched Buffy could not be good for the commando fool. Maybe she’ll finally toss him, he thought, hopefully. He really didn’t like the guy, and it wasn’t just because he liked Buffy. Riley just genuinely rubbed him the wrong way.

“And you show him more respect than you do me!” Riley responded, his voice aching with hurt. “You don’t hold back with him. You don’t make sure he’s not a little bruised. Do you think I don’t know what it means when I spend an afternoon fighting with you without a mark to show for it?” He was accusatory, as usual.

AARGH! Buffy didn’t want to have this argument. She grabbed her coat and headed towards the door, stopping to look at him. “Spike isn’t human, Riley. He’s stronger than you are, and frankly I don’t care if he gets a little roughed up.” She paused, trying not to be hurtful, even though she was angry. “I know it bugs you. The whole slayer strength thing. But it doesn’t mean I don’t respect you. That’s your issue. Not mine.” She opened the door to the alley behind the Magic Box and left. That had been the last time she’d seen Riley before his sudden announcement that the government wanted him back.
Chapter 2: Honey, I’m home…
Previously: Buffy has been remembering a fight she and Riley had about Spike right before Riley left.

Rousing herself from her reverie, Buffy muttered, “Stupid Riley. Stupid boys. Only idiots would decide my refusal to fight them no holds barred is the same thing as a refusal to commit emotionally.” It wasn’t her fault she was stronger than he was and she refused to feel sorry about it. The last few weeks without him had been hard, but as time passed Buffy was becoming increasingly glad that fate had stepped in, making sure she didn’t reach the helicopter to stop him in time.

All that stuff Xander had said about letting Riley in had made sense, except for the Riley part. Now that he was gone, the slayer realized that she didn’t really miss Riley the specific person that much. Her life was so much simpler without him. What she missed was a relationship like the one she’d had with Angel—one that she unquestioningly participated in. Dr. Phil may think that relationships take work, and they do, she thought, but it shouldn’t be all work. All work and no play make Buffy a bad girlfriend.

Buffy realized she’d been patrolling for much longer than she intended. She scanned the horizon for Spike, hoping for a walking companion. She didn’t need any more time alone with her own thoughts. As she looked for his platinum head, the true significance of Spike’s decision to dye his hair finally hit Buffy. It’s not just a strange, Spike-ish fashion statement. He did that so that he couldn’t hide. If I were looking for Angel right now, I would never be able to find him unless he came to me. Buffy smirked. It’s Spike’s cocky and not so subtle “fuck you” to the whole concept that Vampires should hide in the dark. Somehow it failed to register with Buffy exactly who that “fuck you” was probably originally directed at.

She spotted him at the opposite end of the cemetery, walking in the other direction and called out to him. “Spike! Spike!” He stopped, turning towards her.

Buffy could see him try to pretend to be annoyed—as though he hadn’t just spent the evening following her. They were almost together before Buffy saw them out of the corner of her eye. They were headed for Spike—all of them. It was like he was a homing beacon, drawing the dark figures in like magnets.

Spike didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to figure out an excuse to give the Slayer for his presence. He looked up at Buffy, only then seeing the concern in her eyes. Turning slightly, he saw the taser coming. Jumping out of the way, Spike realized he was surrounded. Fuck. Looking around, he saw the Slayer approach. They looked at each other and nodded. There were two of them, but maybe sixteen of what Spike now recognized as the commandos. Where did they come from? I thought Finn and the bunch left three weeks ago—and sixteen? Isn’t that a bit much? Spike curled his lip, and decided the large party was flattering. Some people think I’m still the Big Bad. He lost his smile. Or they knew I’d be with Buffy. He shrugged his shoulders. It didn’t matter anyway—there was no way he and Buffy could take this many humans alone. Spike couldn’t fight and Buffy didn’t believe in hurting her own kind. Bloody inconvenient.

Buffy ran as fast as she could, managing to reach Spike before the group of what she was really hoping were not Initiative guys decided to jab him with the taser again. She was steps away, when Spike heard one of them say something to Buffy. She responded by kicking the man in the chest and grabbing Spike’s hand. “Run!” she yelled, not that he needed the encouragement.

Together, Buffy and Spike clothes-lined several of the soldiers in their way, clearing a hole so they could make a break for it. Thank God Spike has superfast speed too, Buffy thought as they raced through the cemetery.

“Your crypt, fast—then my house. We’ll get you some blood and then hide out at home. One good thing about these government boys is that even though you’d think they wouldn’t, they seem to be periodically bound by the constitution—which means they can’t storm my house.”

Spike smirked at her logic, and jogged beside her. They’d slowed down, once they’d realized they weren’t being followed. Still, there was some chance there’d be more elsewhere in the cemetery. Looking at Buffy, he nodded. “Here’s to hoping.”

*************************

The group of soldiers watched as the blonde pair ran away—making no effort to chase them. Slowly, they began pulling off their masks and turned towards their leader.

Riley removed his mask, the line of his jaw set tightly. He’d known Buffy would protect Spike. He’d known it. He just had tried really hard not to believe it. Riley surveyed the group before him.

“We need to re-convene back at HQ. We’ve confirmed that the slayer will protect Hostel-17, but there’s no way to know how far this protection will extend. We would like to avoid contact with her as much as possible, so we need to figure out when we can reach Hostel-17 and be sure he’s alone. I’m not sure how much you boys were told before they sent us on this mission….but, let’s just say that the last time the slayer and the government got involved, it was messy.” At that he nodded stiffly and the men immediately began spreading out into the woods again, vanishing under the cover of leaves and darkness.

*******************

From her vantage point on top of one of the largest crypts, Druscilla was decidedly bemused. She had no idea who those men were, though she was currently debating making a snack of some of them. What she did know was that she had spent the evening tracking Spike as he tracked the slayer. At first, her hopes had been up—thinking he was back to hating her. After the little scene in his crypt, when he offered to sacrifice her for his love of Buffy, Druscilla had been upset for days. She’d gone back to South America, looking for her chaos demon, but it hadn’t helped.

Finally, she’d decided that something must be done. William must be helped. All of this was just unnatural. Besides, she was slowly beginning to recognize that she and the slayer must have more in common than either thought if both Angelus and Spike could fall for both of them. If they had things in common…then Druscilla’s psychic powers would be more powerful when dealing with her. Twin souls and whatnot. So she’d formulated a plan. Well, kind of. Dru sighed, acknowledging her desire to be led, not to lead. She’d had no choice though—she’d tried to get Angelus to return, but had no luck and Spike clearly wasn’t going to help. At least she’d known whom to call.

“Druspilla! Are you ever going to come down from there?” Druscilla winced at the whiney voice she could here from the ground.

“Yes!” she barked. “Now be a good little kitty and wait to I’m done. You need to mind your elders.”

“My elders? I’ll have you know that I was eighteen when I got turned. I’m an adult,” Harmony spat. Why was she doing this, she wondered. Spike. That’s why. And that stupid, ugly Buffy, who thought she could steal my boyfriend. Harmony didn’t get it. Druscilla had mentioned some weird mystic forces that effect vampires and slayers but Harmony wasn’t buying it. She wasn’t buying much of anything that came out of the brunette’s mouth. Besides, she wondered, Didn’t anyone remember high school? Buffy was such a loser then. Harmony smiled as she remembered telling Spike stories about all the nasty things she and Cordelia had said about Buffy. Cordy had been quite willing to complain about her even after hooking up with Xander. It really bugged her that Xander was so focused on Buffy. Ugh, Xander. The whole thing didn’t make sense. Didn’t high school mean something? Wasn’t your status in high school an indicator of where you’d be for the rest of your life, undead or not?

Harmony was lost in thought when Dru jumped from the crypt’s roof to the ground. Turning, she looked at the other vamp. “Are we done here? Because I’d really like to get something to eat. I have a very strict eating schedule. How else do you think I keep my skin so smooth?”

Druscilla ignored her as she began to walk away. She stopped, feeling the air tingle. “We must wait another day, or two,” she said as she looked at the stars. Harmony hated it when Dru did this—acted like someone was talking to her. “Then we will call D’Hoffryn. Then the time will be ripe.” Dru laughed her insane laugh that creeped Harmony out. “Then the slayer will be at her most vulnerable.”

“Whatever, Dru.”

**********************

Spike had actually been quick picking up his supplies, so they were almost home. Buffy was being quiet. She hadn’t realized until they’d reached his crypt that the two of them had kept holding hands as they ran. Her hand still tingled from his cooling touch.

“Right then,” Spike said, trying to break the silence. He was in a good mood. It’s not every day a vamp gets to go home with the slayer, he thought, smiling. “I guess I’ll get the couch since Red and Tara have got your mom’s room.”

Buffy nodded slowly, apparently lost in thought. Spike tried again: “And I don’t fancy trying to make you and Dawn share, just so I can get a bed. One of you would end up dead in the morning.”

That got a smile. Buffy looked sideways at him, catching his eyes quickly. “Yeah, Dawn’s a kicker and if I had one of my more vivid slaying dreams, there’s no telling what might happen.”

Spike chuckled. He was getting a little nervous—not sure if Buffy remembered that she’d uninvited him. Wonder if she’ll change her mind about bringing me home when she remembers? He hoped not. For the first time in weeks, Buffy seemed to be relaxing around him again—well as much as she ever relaxed around the Vampire.

They reached the Summers’ home and Buffy hurried in—suddenly eager to get inside. “Hey Dawny!” she shouted. “I’m home, and I’ve brought a guest.” Dawn will be happy about this. She likes Spike. She turned around, looking expectantly at Spike as he stood in the doorway. Watching him as his cheek muscles convulsed and he looked at her nervously it dawned on Buffy why exactly he was still standing outside.

“Oh. Sorry,” she said, blushing. “Come in, Spike. I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s nothing,” Spike interrupted her as he looked at her through his eyelashes. Buffy noticed that her heart seemed to speed up whenever he looked at her like that. “Thanks for inviting me in, now.”

They both looked up as Dawn descended the stairs, looking first at Spike and then at Buffy, smiling. “You let him in!” she said, happily hugging Spike. Buffy smiled at the surprise on the vamp’s face as he hugged her sister back awkwardly.

“Hey, little bit. How’s things?” Spike slowly shut the door, bringing his bag to the couch.

“Good. Better now,” Dawn continued grinning.

I hope she’s not still crushing on him, Buffy thought, looking nervously at her sister. Buffy began to head towards the kitchen, trying to brush the thought away. She needed her post-slay yogurt.

“So?” Dawn chirped. “What’s with the baggage? Spike staying over or something?” The glee in her voice was impossible not to recognize.

Spike ducked his head to avoid looking Buffy in the eye and started unpacking. He pulled out his blood packets and began following Buffy to the kitchen, but Buffy turned to address Dawn. “Yes,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. “Spike’s got to stay here for a while. The Initiative, or soldiers, or someone human and pentagony is after him again. He’ll be sleeping on the couch.” Buffy turned towards the kitchen again, a smile starting to spread across her face. “Try not to fight for the remote too much.”

Entering the kitchen, Buffy was startled when Spike turned from the refrigerator, now containing a few days’ supply of blood, and handed her a yogurt. She blushed. “Am I that predictable?” she asked.

Spike snorted. “Only seen you do it ten-thousand times. If I’d been really smart, I would have figured out someway to poison the yogurt at your local supermarket. That would have gotten you out of commission for a little while.”

Buffy sighed, trying to sound annoyed, but it was half-hearted. “Do you ever stop thinking up plans to kill me? I mean, geez Spike, there’s a way to make a girl feel loved.” The words had rolled off her tongue before she thought about them. She flushed immediately, realizing their import. “Not, um, not that you need to…”

Spike smiled slightly at her discomfort. “It’s ok, pet. I got what you meant. And to answer your question: I just never stop thinking of ways other people could hurt you. What’s the point of having Big Bad on your side if I don’t provide some insight into the evil-minded.”

“Oh,” Buffy said, licking the spoon. “Does that mean you think I shouldn’t eat any more yogurt? I hope not—it’s my favorite.”

Spike laughed at her pretended worry, his chuckle growling in his chest. “I think you should eat more yogurt,” he said, drawing closer a look of concern on his face. “I don’t understand how you birds do it. Especially you. Shouldn’t you need to eat more, with all the slaying?”

“Ha!” Buffy and Spike turned to look at Dawn, who was grinning. “Trust me, Spike. Buffy gets plenty of food. The yogurt is just her public post-slay snack. The key is to watch the cocoa-krispies. They’ll be gone by morning. I guarantee it.”

Buffy blushed. “A girl’s gotta eat.”

Dawn and Spike smiled at each other as Buffy threw her yogurt cup away.

“Besides,” Buffy was suddenly all business, “it’s time for bed. The two of you can resume making fun of the hungry girl who’s just trying to save the world tomorrow.”

Chapter 3: Breakfast of Champions
Previously, on Buffy: Spike is staying with Dawn and Buffy as they try to protect him from the latest version of the Initiative.

Buffy’s stomach woke her up with its rumbling. Rolling over in bed, she tried to resist her body’s attempt to wake her up. Damn Spike sleeping on the couch. How’s a girl supposed to get her cocoa-krispies? Then she smelled it. She hadn’t smelled anything that good since her mom had gotten sick.

Sitting up in bed, she worried briefly that Dawn might be trying to cook something, but changed her mind. It smelled too good for that. Maybe Willow? No, she’d called and said she’d be staying at Tara’s for a couple days.

Groggily she got up and found her slippers, forcing herself to brush her teeth and hair before going downstairs. No need for Spike to see me in all my bed-head glory, she thought, before chastising herself for caring what Spike would think at all. She felt a little cold and grabbed Mr. Gordo to hug for warmth before starting her slow descent down the stairs.

When she arrived in the kitchen, Buffy balked. Spike was standing at the stove…flipping pancakes high in the air as a giggling Dawn sat at the counter. She watched as he threw one expertly in the air, catching it with the spatula. Smiling, she said, “I didn’t know vampires could make flapjacks. Let alone toss them in the air like a professional.” She sauntered forward, pulling out a stool as Dawn and Spike turned to look at her.

“Good morning sleepy head,” Dawn teased. Buffy held Mr. Gordo tightly in her lap, resting her chin on his bulk.

“Mornin’” she managed, eyeing Spike with amusement. He looked at her through his eyelashes before he began throwing more batter in the air. Buffy was suddenly painfully aware of the fact that her shorts were…well, short. She buried her face in Mr. Gordo in an effort to hide her blush.

Spike tried to focus on the pancakes. He could feel the slayer’s hunger, smell it on her. She needs breakfast, he thought. I should have made her eat more last night, not teased her. Spike clicked his tongue in his cheek, scolding himself as he listened to Buffy and Dawn banter. God, she even looks beautiful when she rolls out of bed. He started grinning to himself. She looks so much younger dressed like that. So much smaller—like I could pick her up—You can pick her up, idiot. Stop romanticizing this. She’s Buffy. A sleepy Buffy, but still Buffy. Yes, Spike argued with himself, she is still Buffy and I love Buffy.

Buffy suddenly burst out laughing at something Dawn said and Spike was taken by surprise. Turning around as he handed her a plate stacked high with pancakes and raised his eyebrow questioningly, “What kind of syrup do you want with that?”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “There are different kinds?” Her mouth made a big “O” shape as she marveled at the possibility.

Spike fought the urge to kiss her. Maybe my staying here wasn’t the best idea. This may be too hard to take. I can barely withstand being in her presence when she’s miffed with me. I don’t know how long I can take happy, domestic Buffy before I do something stupid and finally make her stake me good. The thoughts didn’t stop him from smiling, though, as he pointed to the array of syrups in front of her.

“Just don’t tell Buffy about the blood syrup,” Dawn said, scrunching her nose. “Bleck!”

Buffy looked at him, perplexed. “Blood syrup? Do I want to know?” She reached out for the honey walnut and began dousing her pancakes with it. Her mouth watered just looking at them. Note to self: thank Spike for being surprise chef.

“I don’t think you’d want—” Spike started.

“He dips pancakes in blood,” Dawn said, grinning mischievously. “He says it gives it texture.”

Buffy grimaced, but smiled quickly. “I guess that makes sense,” she looked at Spike. “I would imagine eating the same thing endlessly would get boring after a while—especially since right now it’s just a poor substitute. Pig’s blood probably isn’t your favorite.”

Spike nodded slowly, trying to decide how to change the subject. He knew blood grossed Buffy out. Can’t believe she didn’t get all moody the second Dawn said something. Buffy was way ahead of him though.

“Dawn, you know Xander will be here soon to pick you up for school. How about we stop trying to gross me out and you get ready?”

“I am ready…”

Spike turned and started to clean up the kitchen, tuning out the girls’ morning routine banter. He was happy. The pancake plan had worked. Buffy had been in the same room with him for more than ten minutes without being annoyed or irritated or bitchy or hitting him. Before long Spike was absorbed in daydreams of domesticated bliss—well, almost domesticated. In his fantasies, Buffy would sometimes bring him breakfast in bed in the form of an already dead unfortunate she’d found on patrol.

********************

Dawn was on her way to school and Xander knew that Buffy wanted to call a Scooby meeting at the Magic Box in an hour. As she shut the door, Buffy registered on the noises from the kitchen. Was Spike doing the dishes? Ok. He officially needs to stop surprising me—or at least surprise me with something distasteful. There’s something seriously creepy about a housetrained Spike.

He was humming as she walked up to him. It was a tune she didn’t recognize—not that Buffy was much of a music buf. She reached for a drying towel and touched him lightly on the arm. “You shouldn’t do this,” she said, raising her face to look at him. “You cooked.”

Spike turned, taking the towel from her hand, brushing his slightly soapy fingers against her skin. “That I did. But you haven’t eaten yet.” He turned, pointing at her stack of pancakes with only a couple bites missing. “You really are something, slayer. I could feel how hungry you were when you came down this morning, but still, you manage to forget reality. How can someone so in tune with her body in general not here it’s cries for nourishment?” His tone was mildly accusatory but he was grinning at her, running his tongue against his teeth.

Buffy looked back at the pancakes, unable to resist the urge to let him wash while she finally ate. Settling down in front of breakfast, she looked at his back as he washed. “What are you so worried about? Dawn was right you know. I eat plenty.”

“Promise?”

Buffy looked up at him in surprise. He was actually concerned. Of course he is, you nit. You know that—and he knows you know it. You keep being surprised when he shows it and he might think you’re fishing for…Buffy cut her thought off. Fishing for what? Nothing to fish for. Completely self-sufficient Buffy, she tried to tell herself. Yeah, right, that’s why you’re eating the pancakes he made. Rolling her eyes, Buffy shushed herself. She needed food. Who cared where it came from?

Swallowing a mouthful she said, her throat thick with sugar, “I promise.” She ate and he washed in silence until she was done. Then she started helping him dry while she filled him in on her Scooby meeting plan.

“But if it’s in an hour, that means I can’t come,” Spike said, furrowing his brow and then wanting to kick himself for how much he’d just sounded like Dawn.

“I know, but I think you should stay here until we know what’s up. I really don’t think they’d try to get you here and since they can move about in the daytime, unlike you. It just seems safest,” Buffy said, placing the last dish in the cabinet.

Spike wanted to argue, but he didn’t. She was right anyway, and besides—alone in the Summers’ house? He was sure he could find something to do.

“Anyway, I’m gonna run up stairs and get ready,” she said, heading for the door. Stopping, she turned to him. “Thanks for breakfast, Spike. That was a nice surprise.” She was gone before he could say anything, but Spike smiled. See, he said to himself, if you try hard enough, she might actually start to like you.

*****************
Forty-five minutes later Buffy was standing in the magic shop with her arms crossed, looking at a very irritated Giles.

“What I don’t understand is why he’s staying at your house, Buffy. It was only a little while ago that you uninvited him. What’s changed? Surely we can find some other way to keep him safe, though why we must protect him remains somewhat lost on me.”

“Do you want to keep him at your apartment again?” Buffy asked snarkily, knowing he’d never agree to that.

“Certainly not,” Giles said, reaching for his glasses in anxiety. “But, Buffy—”

“What I don’t understand,” Xander interjected, “is why we’re helping him at all. So the Initiative wants him back, so what? I mean I know they aren’t exactly do-gooders, but why do we care what happens to Spike?”

“Because we owe him,” Buffy said, glaring at the group resolutely. “I owe him. He stood up to Glory for me and Dawn, and even though I don’t feel entirely comfortable with his..um..motivation for doing so, it wouldn’t be right not to keep that in mind.”

Giles opened his mouth, about to continue his protest, but Buffy cut him off. “Enough. It’s decided. Besides, he can’t hurt us, and he might actually help with Dawn. Glory knows where we live, remember? If she surprised us, Spike could help Dawn get away while I distracted her.”

She was met with silence. Good. Maybe now they’ll recognize that I’m—

Buffy never finished the thought.

The group looked up at the small sound Buffy made as she crumpled to the floor.

“Buffy!” Giles was next to her in a second, checking her pulse. “She’s alive,” he said, looking around the room. “Just…asleep.” He looked questioningly at Willow, and then back to the amulet Buffy was wearing around her neck. Willow had given it to her—a sort of magic detection device that would glow whenever something magicy was happening near by. It glittered against Buffy’s skin.

“Willow, Tara, do a protection spell, immediately,” Giles said. “I bet this is Glory. We need to make sure she can’t find Buffy while she’s this…defenseless.” Quickly he lifted Buffy in his arms. “Xander, help me get her home. If Glory is looking for her, we don’t need to draw her attention here. Glory still doesn’t really know that much about Buffy’s friends, other than Spike.” Giles grimaced at the thought that Spike fell into that category, but refused to dwell on it. He headed for the door, Xander a step ahead to hold it open. Stopping suddenly, he turned back. “Do a scrambling spell next—you know, one that would mislead Glory in any attempts she makes to find Buffy. The longer it takes for Glory to find her, the more likely Buffy will be back to normal, and the less likely we’ll have to depend too heavily on that protection spell.” With that, he and Xander were out the door.

*******************
Buffy’s head ached as she woke up, her senses slowly coming to life. She was confused. This felt like her bed, but wasn’t she just at the Magic Box? And what happened? Buffy’s hand went up to her forehead as it throbbed with each question. Suddenly, something stopped her hand—a cooling touch began stroking her forehead.

“Buffy?” It was Spike’s voice. He sounded anxious, but not overly worried. Buffy tried to open her eyes, but her lids seemed too heavy.

“Spike?” was all she could manage, as she turned her face into his hand, feeling his fingers graze her cheek. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you all about it in a bit, pet. Right now you need to rest. We’re safe, so don’t worry about anything.” Spike’s voice was low and calm. Buffy thought she could hear his chest rumble as he spoke.

“Mmmmm.” Buffy stretched as the rest of her body began waking up. It felt like she’d been drugged. Her body seemed as if she had to physically lift each part out of something strong and sticky—like she’d been thrown in a vat of melted marshmallow. Mmmm. Marshmallows. Buffy suddenly realized she was hungry.

She managed to open her eyes, only to find Spike sitting next to her, a book open across his knee as though it had been placed their quickly when he leaned in to sooth her. He was watching her now, a slight smile twitching across his face.

Buffy’s hand suddenly went up to her head as she felt the mass of hair. She felt the tangled mass. “Oh no!” She looked sheepishly at the vamp whose smirk was now a full, surprisingly bright, smile. “I’ve got bedhead.”

“Just a little, pet. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that your hair isn’t naturally perfect.”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy swatted ineffectually at his arm, missing. Wait. Missing? Buffy sat up, suddenly oblivious to the pain in her head. She hadn’t meant to hit him hard, that was certain, but she had meant to hit him. An unfortunately familiar terror began to gnaw at her stomach. Lifting her eyes to Spike’s face, they widened, terrified.

Quickly, he covered one of her hands in his. “It’s temporary. I promise.” He watched her, waiting for her to react. At the word temporary, her eyes had visibly softened, but still her body remained taut with tension.

“Glory?” she asked, slowly turning in bed, preparing to climb out. It was so odd. She felt the same. Tired, yes. Lacking superpowers, no. But she knew. Her senses were less heightened. The small tickle at the back of her head that Spike usually created—the tickle that told her there was vamp near by—was gone.

“Yes. It was Glory.” Spike continued to watch her face, suddenly aware he’d do anything to calm her worry. “They’ve already reversed the spell. Giles had apparently been afraid she’d try something like this, so he had everything ready. It will…take a few days to get everything back, though.” He waited with what would have been bated breath, if he had breath to, well, bate.

Her eyes flashed. “Giles knew?” She was standing up, furious. “He knew and he didn’t tell me?” Her voice went a pitch higher, but Spike continued to look at her calmly. He knew this was displaced panic—an attempt to channel her fear into something even slightly more useful. I always knew the resourceful bit was Buffy—not the slayer. She’s still her same old fly-off-the-handle self.

When Buffy saw him smiling at her bemusedly, she wanted to hit him, but was too embarrassed to try. She couldn’t stand to let him know how weak she was now. Instead she focused on glaring. I can be angry—superpowers or no.

Spike looked at her as she stared at him. “And what would he have told you, slayer?” he said, his eyebrow quirking up as he purposely used the word slayer in an effort to assure her that, as far as he was concerned, she still was. “That this might happen? You already knew that.” He kept his voice level, looking at her, willing her to calm down.

She felt her anger subside a little. After all, Spike had assured her it wasn’t permanent. Only a couple of days. She could use a couple of days off anyway. And today’s Friday, she thought, I’ll just look at it as a mini-vacation. A mini, involuntary vacation.

Spike could see she was calming down, could feel her heartbeat slow. He was happy, but he knew what would come next. Questions. Lots of Questions. For the moment though, they sat staring at each other as Buffy willed her heart to slow down.

“Where’s everyone else? Where’s Dawn? What time is it? Why did Glory cast this spell? How can we be ok if I’m not going to get my powers back for days? How did I get here? Wha—”

“Buffy, luv, if you want me to answer any of those, you need to stop for a second.” Spike looked at her, unable to resist lifting up his hand and brushing her hair back. “Come down stairs with me, eat some cocoa-krispies and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Buffy looked at him. Listen to him, her voice said—the one she always listened too. Slowly, she nodded her assent.

************************
In the kitchen, happy as he watched her poor another bowl, Spike explained the situation, attempting to go in the order he thought she’d appreciate most.

“Dawn is at Xander and Anya’s apartment. You’ve been asleep for eight hours or so. They are coming by in half an hour so that Dawn can say “hi” and pick up some clothes. Giles thinks that Glory was going to try to kill you or get information out of you while you were powerless, so Willow and Tara have done a protection spell for you and Dawn. They’ve also done a scramble spell, so that if Glory does a locator spell for you, it will take her in the wrong direction. Giles thinks it’s safer if you and Dawn aren’t in the same place much until you get your powers back. That’s why I’m still here. I’m babysitting you.” He said this last with a touch of humor, hoping to get her a little riled—make her focus on anything besides being scared.

“Thanks.” Spike was surprised. Not the answer he’d expected.

“Not a problem. It’s the same thing you were doing for me with those commando guys,” Spike said, trying not to sound too elated by the slayer’s gratitude.

“Oh my God!” Buffy gasped. “I’d completely forgotten about them. Do we know anything about that yet. Why they’re after you?”

Spike ducked his head, surprised for the second time by the concern in her voice. “Giles said he was looking into it, but that it wasn’t his number one priority. He was…um…more worried about you.”

“Hmmph. Stupid Giles. He better worry about it. What would we do if they tried to take you right now? I can’t stop them and then no one would be left who can even hope to fight Glory. I better call him and remind him that while you may be an extremely irritating and slightly dysfunctional vampire, you’re our extremely irritating and slightly dysfunctional vampire.” Her eyes danced as she said this, silently hoping he would be able to notice the gratitude beneath the barbs.

He did. Boy did he. Smiling, he said, “Need the phone for that? Because I’d be happy to get it for you.”

Chapter 4: Breaking up is hard to do
Previously, on Buffy: Glory has temporarily stripped Buffy of her slayer powers, leaving her (and Dawn) dependent upon Spike’s protection.

By the time Dawn arrived with Xander to get her clothes, Buffy had given Giles a stern talking to about “giving credit where credit’s due” and Spike was feeling pleased with himself. The slayer defending him; who would have thunk?

The knock on the door surprised him. Everyone else was upstairs. Spike looked curiously at the door. I’m pretty sure that everyone Buffy knows, knows her well enough to just walk right on in. Even me. Now. Spike smiled, remembering his invitation. “Buffy!” he yelled up the stairs. “Someone’s at the door.”

She came down quickly, followed by Xander and Dawn—all of them curious. Buffy glanced down at herself—she was still all rumpled from having slept in her clothes, but at least she was dressed. Smiling perkily, she opened the door.

Buffy almost passed out again when she saw who it was. Then she remembered why they were probably here and moved so that she was between them and Spike. She knew she couldn’t protect him, but the men at her door didn’t.

Spike, Xander and Dawn simply stared. Dawn had almost shouted “Riley” when she saw him through the doorway, but then she’d noticed the military garb and the very angry looking older gentleman who was with him.

“What?” Buffy asked, looking only at the older man. Riley was back and he hadn’t called her. Hadn’t even let her know. No way was she going to acknowledge him.

Spike was nervous. He didn’t need his vamp sense to feel the tension coming off of Buffy, and the gleam of fury that had gone across Riley’s gaze when Buffy had positioned herself in front of Spike reminded him all to well of their little confrontation with the plastic stake.

“We’d like to speak to you,” the man said. “May we come in?”

“No!” was the resounding response from everyone inside. Dawn found herself wishing people were like vampires—requiring an invite.

Riley stepped forward, addressing Buffy, who immediately jerked back, her anger radiating at him. “Look, Buffy, we want to discuss the situation. It’s only the two of us. We aren’t here to attack. We know we wouldn’t win.”

Buffy turned and looked at the three behind her. They nodded and Spike began to back into the living room. She flashed him a look. Be prepared to run, her head screamed at him. Spike nodded again, seeming to understand.

Once Spike was across the room she slowly moved out of the doorway, allowing the two men to enter. They all moved into the living room and Riley and his commander sat on the couch.

“Buffy”—Spike wanted to hit Riley every time he said her name—“This is Colonel Lewis. We’re here on a mission to recover as many of the demons that have received implants as we can. We need to study the long term effects.” Riley looked at her expectantly as if he actually expected her full cooperation.

Stupid pillock, Spike thought. Doesn’t he realize that agreeing with this in any way would mean that the Slayer was essentially giving the government the go ahead to mess with her job? Buffy wouldn’t do that—even if she hates me as much as I’m sometimes afraid she does.

“Is that all?” Buffy said, her sarcasm heavy. She resisted the urge to kick Riley in his overly beefy head. Did he actually think I’d just hand Spike over? “Well, you can’t have this one. I’m sure he’d be willing to fill out a little survey about the chip’s effects, though. We’ll be sure mail it to you as soon as we can.”

Spike bit back a smile, only to frown as the Colonel started to speak.

“Now listen young lady, I understand—”

“Clearly you don’t, otherwise you’d realize that calling me “young lady” isn’t going to make me think you’re my superior. It’s only going to piss me off.” Her voice was level, but seething. She turned and looked at Riley. “Why are you here? Surely you could have told them that this won’t work. Or are you back to blindly following orders?”

Riley’s jaw tensed. “I told them. And they did listen. That’s why we’re here. We have a proposal of sorts.” He looked at her levelly; hoping she couldn’t tell how much she was getting to him, how much watching her protect the vamp ate him up. Everything was still too fresh.

“Care to share? Because, I don’t have all day. Some of us can’t go home at the end of the day, you know.” Buffy knew she should be being nicer—that she was acting childish, but she didn’t care. Riley had hurt her so much…

“We’ll give you a week,” Riley said. “We’ll be monitoring you. Everything’s already set up with that—left over from last time. Cameras, etc. All you need to do is go about your regular life.”

“And what?” Buffy’s voice was biting. “And wait until my back is turned so you can snatch him like you tried to last night? I don’t think so. We don’t want anything to do with this. With you.”

Riley swallowed hard, trying to contain his anger. Colonel Lewis looked at Buffy sharply. “It doesn’t really matter what you want Miss Summers. We will be monitoring you. We need to know if these beings can function in society.”

Buffy laughed a harsh, fake laugh. “You say all of this as if you’re waiting for something. As if when Spike behaves in some specific way you’ll leave. I don’t buy it. You’re just going to trick us.”

“Not necessarily,” the Colonel glared at her. “Though you are correct that we are looking for specific behaviors. Mr. Finn and I are just not certain that this demon is safe—that you can control him, and while we appreciate your self-confidence, we’d like to see for ourselves.”

Buffy’s eyes glinted as she looked at Riley. “This is you, isn’t it? This is you getting—”

Dawn interrupted, the fear in the teenager’s voice overflowing. “You can’t take Spike. We need him. Besides Spike is…he’s um…he’s Buffy’s new boyfriend!” Dawn’s voice squeaked and she knew Buffy was going to kill her later, but for some reason this seemed like a solution—like an answer the Colonel would have to accept.

The others looked at her in shock. Buffy’s eye’s widened, as she forced herself to bite back the denial that rose in her throat. Why did Dawn just say that? Riley’s mad enough, no need to egg him on. Though, the look on his face was pretty priceless…

Riley stared at Dawn coldly. “Then why is he sleeping on the couch?” he asked, keeping his voice calm as he gestured towards the sheets folded up at the end of the sofa.

Buffy was still too stunned to say anything. She just looked at Dawn. “Because…Because,” Dawn’s voice faltered. “Because Buffy doesn’t want me to get used to it. She doesn’t want me to start depending on them—the way I did with… She doesn’t want me to feel left again.” Dawn’s tone steadied as she finished the sentence, eyeing Riley closely.

Good for you, little bit, Spike thought. Let the soddin’ Captain Cardboard have it. He would have smiled if he weren’t so worried about how Buffy was going to react to this little twist.

Suddenly Dawn was barreling forward. “Not that Spike would leave. He’s not like that. He loves—”

“That’s enough, Dawn.” Buffy cut her off. “It’s very clear these people already know more than enough about our personal lives. I see no reason to share anymore.” Buffy took a deep breath, refusing to look at Riley. “So what you’re saying is that, if you believe Spike is not a threat to anyone, you’ll leave? And never come back?”

Riley clearly wanted to object, but Colonel Lewis stayed him with a look. “Yes. That’s what we mean. We already have cameras in every room of this house, the…what do you call it? The Magic Box…and several apartments that Mr. Finn assures me you all spend time in.”

Trying not to focus on exactly how creepy all this was, Buffy nodded. When she spoke her voice was perilously light, each word clipped off at the end. “Fine. Watch us all you want. But if any of you come after us again, I won’t just run. I don’t like to hurt humans, but if you’re a threat to me and mine don’t think I won’t.”

Spike beamed at the thought that he was being included in Buffy’s ‘me and mine.” Don’t be a stupid git. She’s just doing it to get at Riley. She’s still pissed at him. Still, though…she could just turn you over and she’s not. That’s something.

With that Buffy gestured towards the door. “Get out.” The two men stood up and started to take their leave.

Riley stopped when he reached the door, turning to her. “I was sorry to hear about your mother, Buffy. I really was.”

The only thing that stopped her from slapping him was knowing that it wouldn’t hurt him enough. “Get. Out.”

**************************************

Buffy was pacing now—furious she couldn’t go patrolling. She needed to hit something—and hit it effectively. The punching bag in the basement had barely moved when she’d gone downstairs in an effort to relieve some stress. She just felt so useless. Is this what Spike feels like? Now that he can’t bite people?

Dawn and Xander had left a few minutes after Riley. It wasn’t safe for Dawn to be at the house, and Buffy was still having trouble digesting what had just happened. She could tell Dawn was afraid Buffy would be furious with her, but really she wasn’t. It hadn’t been such a bad idea, really. If the soldier boys were really worried about Spike’s potential threat, than her dating him would definitely help calm those worries. The government already knew about how she’d killed Angel when she’d loved him. If anything, Buffy knew she held the people she loved to a higher stander than others. Either way, she needed Spike and she wasn’t about to let a jealous ex interfere with hers or Dawn’s safety.

Spike was in the living room, watching TV, or at least trying to watch it. Buffy hadn’t said much since the others had left. He could tell she was antsy, but it was unfortunately pretty clear that they couldn’t leave. Spike wanted to thank her. Thank her for protecting him. Thank her for what it meant that she would. But he was afraid to let himself think that she’d actually done it for him. Surely it was just a way to mess with soldier boy.

He was so lost in thought that he was actually startled when he heard her say, “I’m hungry.” She was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at him expectantly.

“What am I supposed to do, pet?” he asked, smilingly. If Buffy thought she could get him to cook all the time now, she had another thing coming. He might love her, but she was going to have to work for this.

“Well…,” she hesitated. “I just thought…”

“You thought what? That while I’m here you got a free personal cook?” Spike chuckled. “I don’t think so, slayer. You can make yourself something.”

Buffy pouted. “You know I can’t. I can burn pop-tarts.” She moved slowly towards Spike, exaggerating her lower lip. If she remembered correctly, he liked it when she pouted like this. Hadn’t he? During Willow’s spell? Bad Buffy. Don’t manipulate him like that. You shouldn’t do that, even if he is Spike.

It wasn’t working anyway. Spike was having too much fun making her pout to go to any efforts to make her stop.

“Please?” she said, using her small voice. “It’s not like I won’t help. I just don’t know how. You could…teach me.”

Spike looked at her slowly, pretending he was having trouble taking his eyes of the TV. That small voice always got to him—and she was admitting that he was better at something than she was. That was something. Something that never happened.

Rolling his eyes, he gave in. “All right slayer, but this means I get a respite on the stake-the-spike jokes, ok?”

Buffy lit up, the first genuine smile since this morning playing across her face. “Yay! What are we making?” she asked, following him into the kitchen.

“What do you want?” he asked, watching her. I should have agreed sooner. She’s so much fun when she’s like this—light hearted.

“Hmm…,” a look of puzzlement crossed her face. “Hamburgers? That’s simple, right? And we could make one really raw for you…”

“Ok, slayer.” Spike smiled broadly. “Hamburgers it is.”

*****************************

Spike didn’t know what to do. Making dinner had been fun—probably one of the best hours he’d ever shared with Buffy in terms of them actually getting along. She’d been hilarious—feigning more ignorance in the kitchen than even she really had, making him do all the work.

The burgers had been good, and now she’d fallen asleep while they were watching jeopardy—her exhaustion from the day finally setting in. Her head had fallen against his shoulder and he could feel her breath against him, through the cotton of his shirt. He didn’t want to wake her up, but he knew she needed to sleep in a real bed—get actual rest.

“Buffy,” he whispered, turning gently and catching her face in his hand as he removed the support of his shoulder. “Buffy. It’s time for you to go to bed.”

Buffy’s eyes squeezed shut as she attempted to block him out, her face nuzzling down into his hand, before she realized that she wasn’t in bed. Her eyes opened slowly. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be Miss Lazybones. Just tired I guess.”

Spike was surprised at her apparent embarrassment over falling asleep. “Perfectly natural luv, nothing to fret over. You just need a good, long rest.”

Buffy stood up slowly, stretching and yawning. “You’re probably right. I just wish my strength would start coming back. I’m really not enjoying this whole damsel in distress thing. Did that once for Halloween. Didn’t like it.”

Spike, smirked, remembering. “I remember that. You were cute in that dress—but irritating. Makes a bloke happy about the women’s movement when he remembers what his options used to be.”

Buffy laughed out loud. “That should be the slogan: ‘At least we don’t whimper anymore.’”

Spike smiled as he watched her walk slowly to the staircase and put her hand on the balcony. Suddenly, though, she turned, looking at him quizzically. “Aren’t you going to bed too?” she asked. “I mean, you were on human schedule today, so you must be tired.”

Spike shifted, looking at her. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” Leaning forward he grabbed the remote and turned off the television before he turned to reach for the sheets at the end of the couch.

“What are you doing?” Buffy’s voice shot through the room, making Spike’s skin tingle.

“I would have thought it was obvious, luv. Seein as how I just told you I was gonna get ready for bed.” It was Spike’s turn to look at Buffy, the confused tilt of his head questioning her.

“But you can’t sleep there,” Buffy said, tone flat.

“Um…,” Spike wasn’t prepared for this. “If you want me to leave—”

Buffy laughed again, though this time it was a giggle. “Spike, calm down. I’m not telling you to leave. I’m telling you to come upstairs. We’re a couple, remember? Thanks to Dawn’s big mouth. And Dawn’s not here, so the excuse for you sleeping on the couch is no longer valid. It looks like you and I are bunking together.” Buffy turned quickly and began mounting the stairs, affecting as much nonchalance as possible.

Spike sat in stunned silence. Remind me to buy the little bit some chocolates or something, because this whole set up just got a little too good to be true. Smiling, he stood up. I guess I’ll have to follow orders.

By the time he reached the room, Buffy had already shed her clothing and changed into her sushi pajamas. I’ve got to keep this simple, she’d thought. Pajamas yes. Sexy Pajamas no.

She scampered off to brush her teeth as Spike entered the room. He took note of her pjs, smiling at her attempt to keep things…simple. One problem there, bit. Spike has no pajamas and Spike, well, Spike doesn’t wear…

When she returned, he was still just standing there. “Aren’t you going to change? You can’t sleep with your jeans on, that would be too weird.”

Spike looked at her uncomfortably. “I don’t have any pajamas,” he said, nervously. This is going to piss her off royally.

“So? Just wear your t-shirt and your…” Buffy’s voice trailed off, realizing the problem. “I knew that, didn’t I? I somehow remember knowing this before—though I don’t think I want to know why.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “You go commando, and…let me guess. You usually sleep that way too?”

Spike tried to keep the smile out of his voice as he said, “Yeah,” but he was enjoying how discomfited this was making her.

“Not a problem,” she said swiftly going over to her bottom draw and pulling something out. “I knew Riley’s sweats would be useful someday.” She handed them to him, observing his grimace. “Don’t worry, they’ve been washed.” Buffy turned to her closet, busying herself with straightening it while Spike changed. When the rustling stopped, she turned, willing herself to keep her face neutral. Luckily his back was too her, or he would have seen her eyes widen into little pools of green.

Riley’s sweats were big for Spike’s lean frame and they hung low on his hips as if they were just barely clinging to his skin. He’d opted to take his shirt off, hoping Buffy wouldn’t complain. He just slept better that way.

She watched his back muscles ripple as he hung his pants on the hook in the wall. Despite being big for him, the pants flattered him, revealing the perfect curve of his ass as he turned slightly sideways. His skin was so white, it seemed to glow along with his hair and his shoulders were so broad compared to his waist, that Buffy marveled she’d never noticed how well-proportioned he was before. Sure, Riley had been muscular, but in a beefy sort of way. Spike was all sinews and grace.

She quickly averted her eyes as he turned back to face her. She focused on setting the alarm clock. “What time should we wake up?”

Spike shrugged. “With you out of commission, and Dawn not here I don’t think there really is a reason for you to get up early. I think you should just sleep until you wake up.” He watched her, noticing that she seemed unwilling to look at him except out of the corner of her eye.

Suddenly, she turned to face him, forcing her face to hold itself still and willing her eyes not to look at anything below his face. Remember Buffy—he’s irritating and demony and worst of all, if he knows you think he’s hot he’ll just be even more obnoxious. “What side of the bed do you want?” she asked.

Spike could feel her quickened heartbeat, could tell that she was reacting to him, but couldn’t quite gauge how. “Which side of your body do you sleep on?” he asked, contemplating the bed.

“Um…no clue. I think I usually sleep on my back, or curled in a ball around Mr. Gordo,” she said, her voice breathy with laughter. “You pick.”

“I’ll take the right then,” he said chuckling, as he climbed into bed.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, careful to turn her back towards him as she snuggled into her pillow.

“The two of us,” he said. “If those soldierboys are watching the cameras right now, we must look like the strangest couple in the world—spending five minutes on opposite sides of the room staring at the bed before we get in it. Let’s hope they don’t demand we get couples therapy or anything. Because that would be awkward.”

Buffy giggled sleepily. She could feel Spike’s back against hers, a cool weight through her pajamas, and though she’d thought she’d be too tense to sleep when he was in the same bed, she found herself drifting off almost immediately. Sighing contentedly as she slipped into a deep slumber.

Spike, much to his surprise as well, was out almost as quickly, lulled to sleep by the rhythm of her breath and the beat of her heart.

******************

Riley sat in front of the display. He’d turned all the screens to show the image coming from the camera in Buffy’s bedroom. He was grim, but suspicious. So far he’d seen nothing to confirm Dawn’s outburst. Yes, they were sleeping in the same bed, but they’d been so awkward, and though Riley found it hard to imagine that Buffy would take a charade so far…that was the hope he was clinging to.

***********************

Druscilla and Harmony stood outside, looking at the window in which the last light in the Summers’ house had just turned off. Dru was suspicious. She hadn’t been able to see into the house, past the curtains, so she had no idea who had just gone to bed, but she was clear on one thing: Spike was spending the night inside, somewhere.

“God, Buffy’s such a whore,” Harmony said, her voice a pitch higher than normal, making it even more grating.

“No,” Dru said, her eyes narrowing as she gazed at the now darkened window. “Buffy’s starting to figure it out.” Dru turned suddenly, and started walking quickly in the direction of the cemetery.

“Figure what out?” Harmony scrambled to catch up.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dru said hurriedly. “It is time. We must get back and call D’Hoffryn immediately. We don’t have much time.”

**************************


Chapter 5: Fun in the Sun
Previously on Buffy: So far, pretending to date Spike hasn’t been as hard as Buffy thought it would be.

Buffy woke up first, mildly confused at the strange things her senses were telling her, but too comfortable to listen. Instead she tried to snuggle deeper into the cocoon of her bed, only then realizing that she was not wrapped in just her comforter. Forcing herself to open her eyes, Buffy found herself entwined with Spike’s body. She couldn’t really figure out where her limbs were in relation to his, but they were facing each other, their bodies pressed together, and her head was snuggled under his chin, fitting perfectly into the hollow between his collarbones.

Spike woke up because her heart suddenly sped up so fast. Consciousness returning, he was convinced something must have happened until he became aware of the heat between his arms. The blond hair between his fingers as he held her to him. Well, this is interesting, he thought. It was obvious to him that Buffy was awake, but she wasn’t moving. Why? He assumed they’d gotten in this position in their sleep—their bodies doing what their minds couldn’t—or so he liked to think. Still, he would think that she’d be eager to escape his embrace—angry at the very thought. But, she still wasn’t moving.

Spike shifted his legs a little, feeling hers entwined with his. Tilting his head, he decided to risk it, and kissed the top of her head. “Morning luv,” he said, trying to sound normal.

“Morning,” came the muffled response. He had felt her breath as she spoke into his chest. She seemed frozen.

“I suppose we should face the day—,” he started to say when the phone began ringing at a volume that seemed impossibly loud.

Grateful for a reason to extricate herself quickly, Buffy was at the phone in a second. Listening, Spike could hear Giles’ tones, but not his words.

“Morning to you too Giles,” she said yawning but good-humoredly. “No, I don’t know what time it is. I actually just woke up.”

Spike sat up in bed as she continued to chatter. When she hung up she said, “I need a shower. Breakfast in fifteen?” She didn’t wait for his response but immediately left, mussed hair bouncing as she hurried out of the room.

So that’s how this will work, Spike thought. She’s going to pretend that didn’t just happen. Falling back into bed, Spike felt little motivation to move. He listened to the sounds of the shower, trying his best not to think of her naked, but his arousal growing as he inevitably did. Yesterday, before Glory’s spell, when Spike had been left to his own devices in the house, he’d been unable to resist going through her underwear drawer. It had been a treasure trove. She probably spends money on this stuff because it’s less likely to get destroyed than the rest of her clothes, he’d thought. There had been satin and lace everywhere—he’d even found a pearl thong that intrigued him mightily—wondering when she’d wear something like that—picturing the Slayer flushed and smiling as she patrolled, stimulating herself just by walking.

All of this wasn’t helping with his attempt not to think of her naked. He heard the shower shut off after several minutes and waited.

*******************
Buffy climbed out of the shower with her eyes still closed—not noticing till too late that she was dripping all over the clothes she’d planned to wear. Dreading the thought of damp clothes suctioning to her skin, she scanned the bathroom, eyes brightening when she noticed one of Spike’s shirts hanging on a hook. How many of those does he have? she wondered. He’s probably downstairs by now, heating up his blood. He’ll never no the difference.

Quickly she pulled the shirt on, letting her wet hair drip down her back. Thankfully, the shirt more than covered her, so she decided to make a break for her bedroom.

When she reached the door, she stopped short in surprise. He was still lying in bed and it looked like he’d fallen asleep again.

Spike heard her breath catch when she walked in and jerked his head up to see what the matter was. His eyes widened at the sight of her. He had not been prepared for this. She was wearing one of his shirts and he was surprised at how much of her it covered. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about her wearing them before, but somehow he’d always assumed they’d barely cover her bottom. Wishful thinking, he figured. Instead, it came down to at least her mid thigh, making her look smaller than she was. He could see her hardened nipples through the fabric and when she turned quickly to her dresser, flushing as she did so, he could see that the water from her hair was making the shirt stick to her back.

Quickly, Buffy pulled open the top drawer. I need underwear quick. Before Spike realizes I haven’t got any. What’s he doing here anyway. Argh. Quickly she grabbed a thong, stepping into it and pulling it up before Spike was able to fully register on what had happened.

He watched her from his spot on the bed, transfixed, realizing that she’d just put on underwear in front of him. That, moments before, she’d been standing in front of him without any. His cock hardened. Good thing these sweats are so roomy, he thought watching her. He’d noticed the color of the thong as she’d pulled it swiftly from the drawer. It was a bright, cerulean blue—a color very close to his own eyes—a fact he would have registered on, had he seen his reflection in the last 100 years.

Quickly, Buffy pulled open another drawer, pulling her shorts from the day before out and practically jumping into them. No way to put on a bra without making a show of it, she thought. Why didn’t you just put on the wet clothes? It wouldn’t have been that bad. You could have changed. They would have dried. Composing herself, she forced a look of nonchalance to form on her face. Turning to face him, she looked at him. He was obviously staring at her—surprise radiating from his pores. He looked…stunned.

“Sorry about this,” she said, plucking at the shirt. Looking down, she realized that the shirt almost covered the shorts she’d been so desperate for. Damning her skimpy wardrobe, she tried to smile. “I got my clothes all wet, and I thought you’d be down stairs, and I’ll change in a sec. I’m—”

Spike forced himself to sit up, maintain composure. “Don’t worry about it,” he said glancing down at his feet. “And don’t change on my account. I’ve got plenty of shirts—feel free.” Please don’t change, he thought. I can still see your nipples. “Besides, you look better in it than I do.” With that he was out the door and down the stairs.

Buffy blushed crimson and she almost decided to change, but then she didn’t. No need to be prudish Buffy. It’s a t-shirt. Changing it will make it a bigger deal than it is. Resolved, she followed the vamp downstairs, eager for breakfast.

******************

She was happily munching on some more of Spike’s pancakes when the phone rang again. Sighing with exasperation, Buffy picked it up.

“Hi Giles—” she said, not even waiting to ask who it was. He interrupted her and suddenly Buffy was off and running. Spike felt her leave and then heard the TV come on in the living room.

“What’s up?” he shouted, unwilling to leave the last round of pancakes unattended on the stove. He was in a good mood. Buffy had kept he t-shirt on, and though her hair was dry now, making it less wet and see-through he knew that the next time he wore it, it would smell of her.

“Come here.” Her voice was tight, and Spike didn’t wait another second. He arrived in the living room in time to hear the local anchorwoman finish her report. “It is unclear where these people have come from, but what is particularly frightening is their presence in the daytime, the police said. According to them, this cult does not like sunlight, preferring to stay inside and wait for the dark. The reports are clear, however, and more and more pour in from across the country, that the cult has changed its rules. The police say that they are identifiable by their contorted faces, and that they leave their victims with a strange puncture wound on the neck…”

Buffy heard the kitchen door shut before she realized Spike was gone. Dropping the phone and running after him, she came to a halt in the backyard, a few yards behind him. It was strange to see him in the sunlight—his skin even paler than normal. He was holding his hand up to the sun, staring at it.

When he heard Buffy behind him, he turned, looking at her in wide-eyed astonishment. Buffy squinted at him, terror coursing through her veins, but also surprise and even a bit of happiness. Spike looked more human right now than she’d ever seen him. The pure joy on his face easing the almost ever-present tension in his body. “Well,” she said, grinning at him despite the sun in her eyes, “there’s clearly only one thing we can do now.”

Spike stared at her— God her hair looks beautiful in this light —“What’s that, luv?”

Buffy’s smile widened. “Go to the beach.”

******************

Spike was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven—even if he was also pretty sure he shouldn’t be allowed in. Buffy had persisted with her beach idea, growing ever more excited as they went back inside. She’d even called Giles, persisting when he tried to tell her not to go.

“Giles, come on. I need the break. My strength isn’t back, so I can’t really help people. Spike will be there to protect me from any baddies who happen by. And for all you know, every vampire in the county will be there. It’s the first place I’d go if I suddenly found a cure for my sun allergy.” Buffy was racing around the house as she looked for things—flip-flops, a bathing suit that Spike was pretty sure bordered on illegal.

He was pretty sure Giles said something about that particular theory not making him any less worried, but Buffy stood her ground. So here they were. They’d stopped and bought him swimming trunks that he still wasn’t too pleased about. They were green with a Hawaiian print, but they fit pretty well and, he’d noticed, they were the exact same color as her bathing suit.

Speaking of the bathing suit. Spike could see it now that Buffy lay sprawled on her towel, sunning herself. It was a vivid emerald green and instead of ties, it connected everywhere with small metal hoops that showed even more of Buffy’s golden skin. She’d caught him staring when they first got to the beach, watching her ass as she spread the towels out, but she hadn’t gotten mad. She was giggly and fun, and now she seemed to have fallen asleep. Spike was thrilled that he didn’t have to stop staring. I’m going to keep this memory for a long time, he thought. I’ve never seen Buffy this…carefree. And she didn’t insist on bringing everyone else. Bloody heaven.

Spike had offered to wait while she rounded up the scoobies, but she’d cocked her head at him and said, “No. This is your day in the sun…literally. We do what you want to do. In fact, if you don’t want me there I’ll leave you alone—go off and hide at the other end of the beach. Whatever you want.”

Spike had been unable to stop himself from stepping up to her and stroking her hair. “Of course I want you there,” he’d said, watching her blush. Thankfully he’d resisted making a particularly sappy comment about how much he’d want both of his “suns” there—Buffy and the real thing. He’d thought it though, and that was bad enough.

Still. Bloody heaven. Spike continued to stare at Buffy, but the urge to mimic her and lie back in the sun was becoming overpowering. He turned to make sure he wasn’t about to get sand in his hair when he noticed that her skin was suddenly looking a little less golden and a lot more red. Making his exasperated sighing sound that he had refused to give up even when he’d lost the need for air, Spike said, “Buffy?”

When he poked her, she was shocked by how cool his hand still felt against her skin. Unwilling to open her eyes or sit up she lazily responded, “Yes?”

“Is there a special slayers-can’t-get-skin-cancer clause that I should know about?” She could hear him clicking his tongue. “Because you’re starting to look a little like a lobster. Please tell me you put some sunscreen on.”

Buffy rolled her eyes behind her shades. “Sorry Spike, I mean Mom,” she giggled. “I forgot.”

“And…,” Spike looked at her expectantly.

Sitting up on her elbows, Buffy glared at him, even though she knew he couldn’t see her eyes. “Do you honestly expect me to move and get all sticky? I was just getting comfortable.”

Spikes eyes narrowed. “Buffy, we both know that if you go and get your precious little Slayer hide burnt to a crisp, Giles is gonna have my head. I may have been dead a long time, but I remember how much sunburn hurts. Makes it kind of hard to move, or anything—let alone stake a vampire.” He listened to her groan, but smiled as she put her hand out for the lotion.

Spike began wishing he’d bought some sunglasses to. Then he could watch her lather herself up without her being able to see his eyes. He decided to watch her anyway. Bugger all. This was a chance of a lifetime—even an undead one. He felt his arousal growing as he watched her smear the lotion over the rather significant portion of breasts that were exposed. She kept snagging the suit’s fabric with her fingers and pulling it to the side, providing tantalizing glimpses.

Suddenly she handed the bottle to him. He could see her eyebrows raised behind the glasses. “What?” he said, confused. “I don’t need it. Undead skin can’t sunburn—well, not in the traditional sense, and this lotion certainly wouldn’t help either way.”

Buffy laughed. It was long and luxurious and her head rolled back a little as she bared her face to the sun. Sitting up closer to him, she plunged her toes in the sand, and pulled them out again, watching the grains slide off her skin. “No, silly. I need your help to get my back.” She shifted, putting her back towards him. “Don’t play dumb. You watch TV all the time. I know you’ve seen the guy-puts-suntan-lotion-on-girl flirtation scene. So hop to.” She carefully lifted her hair off her back, piling it on top of her head so she could hold it with one hand.

Spike almost felt giddy as he began rubbing the lotion in. “Does that mean we’re…” He was afraid to finish the sentence. In fact, he was surprised he’d started it.

Buffy turned her head so she could see him over her shoulder. “Flirting?” Buffy’s eyebrows went up again, and she smiled naughtily. “Yeah, I think we kind of are.” Spike’s hand stopped as he stared at her, aware his surprise was plastered all over his face. Buffy turned her face away again, but said, “Don’t stop now, I can still feel ungreasy patches around my shoulder blades.”

Bad Buffy. Bad Buffy. She tried to chide herself, but there was no denying that the contrast between the heat of the sun and Spike’s hands was bringing goose bumps to her skin. Even making her catch her breath when he slid his hand under the back of her bathing suit. I could get used to this, she thought, arching her neck a little as Spike rubbed her shoulders.

When he stopped, Buffy felt suddenly bereft. Her skin still tingled, but sunbathing had somehow lost its appeal. Looking at Spike, she realized how out of place he seemed. She giggled aloud when she looked at his feet, registering for the first time on the fact that Spike wasn’t wearing his big black boots, but flip-flops instead.

“What’s so funny?” he asked. Bloody hell, Buffy’s got me wound so tight. I feel like a fool when I’m just looking at her. Worth it though.

Buffy removed her sunglasses and looked at him, squinting. She was propped up on her elbows, her knees drawn up because the backs of her legs had gotten too hot resting against the sand. “I know what we should do,” she said, ignoring his question. She sat up suddenly, shading her eyes so she could look him directly in the face. “We need to make sand castles.”

She said “need” with such emphasis, her face so serious, Spike chuckled aloud, but quickly he
returned to his usual serious demeanor. “I don’t do sandcastles. Too—Chevy Chase.”

Buffy pouted, and pretended to give in. “Well, it is your day at the beach I suppose…Silly me for forgetting vamps don’t like fun.”

“Hey now,” Spike couldn’t resist wagging his finger at her. “That’s not fair. You know I love me a good spot of fun. We just have different definitions is all.”

Buffy pouted some more, giggling as she stuck out her bottom lip. “Please, Spike. Pretty please.” Her voice was getting more insistent and Spike felt himself giving in.

“Ok,” he said, standing up. Buffy grabbed his hand immediately and started running towards the water. “Hey, now. No need to pull my arm off. I’m coming.”

Buffy slowed. “I’m sorry. I guess my strength is starting to come back.” She smiled at him again, and started pulling on his hand again. Spike couldn’t help wishing that she’d never let it go.

Eventually they found what Buffy seemed to think was the perfect spot to make sand castles. “Just the right amount of moisture,” she said, plopping her ass in the sand, oblivious to Spike’s widening eyes as her breasts visibly bounced. “So here are the rules,” she said, looking up at him. Spike waited for her to continue, but she kept staring at him. “You have to sit down, Spike. You can’t make a sand castle standing up.”

Spike rolled his eyes as he sat down next to her. “Can I hear the rules now, please Miss Buffy? I so desperately want to learn. Please help me.”

“Your sarcasm is completely lost on me,” she said in a pretend superior voice. “I am Giles and without my sunglasses I hear nothing I do not wish to hear.”

Spike almost fell over when he realized she was mocking her watcher. Laughing, Buffy began creating a mound of sand in front of her. She was sitting cross-legged and kept leaning forward to reach more sand, grunting as she pulled it back. “Now, we each get ten minutes to make a sand castle. Then we jump up and smash it really quick with our feet and run into the water to wash all the sand off.” She looked at him expectantly. Spike was at a loss for words.

Finally, “That’s the game?” he mustered, his disbelief audible.

“Yeah,” Buffy said, her voice dropping in volume as she looked at him through her eyelashes. ‘Dawn and I used to play it all the time. We called it ‘Sand and Destroy.’ Please don’t make fun of it.”

Spike looked at her. She had never seemed so…well, he wasn’t bloody well sure what, but it was good. I don’t think I could love her any more than right at this moment, he thought, berating himself for his cheesiness. “I wouldn’t dream of making fun of your game, pet. Let’s do it.”

Buffy clapped her hands together, smiling. “Ok. One…two…three!”

Ten minutes and twenty five seconds later they were splashing into the water. Buffy couldn’t help shrieking when she realized how cold it was, but she was laughing so hard she didn’t care. Spike had just stomped his castle with his flip-flop clad foot, yelling “Fee Fie Fo Fum!” Then he’d chased Buffy into the water, saying “I’m gonna catch that Slayer’s bum!” Who knew Spike could be so silly? Buffy had never seen him like this and she didn’t want it to stop. She could see the sun was setting, but now she and Spike were in a splashing stand off, trying to dunk each other.

Suddenly, Spike vanished. Looking around her in the water, she began to feel a nagging feeling at the pit of her stomach. Then she remembered that Spike didn’t need air. Shit! She tried to see into the murky water, but there were only bubbles. All of a sudden, she felt a hand on her leg, but before she could react, Buffy felt her whole body being propelled into the air as Spike tossed her up effortlessly. She shrieked with delight, landing in the water a few feet away, emerging moments later with her eyes squeezed shut, blustering.

“No fair!” She squeaked, still keeping her eyes tightly shut. “You don’t need air.”

“All’s fair in water war, slayer,” she heard Spike say from several feet away, but by the time she opened her eyes, he’d vanished again. Bracing herself, Buffy was surprised when this time she felt hands on her waist, wrapping around her from behind. Turning in his grasp, Buffy gasped as Spike swiftly caught up her legs and threw her again.

They kept the game up until the sun was almost set. Then they slowly crawled back to their towels, both of them exhausted in that wonderful beachy way that makes your muscles sore but happy. They packed things up and headed for Spike’s Desoto. Walking side by side, Buffy began running ahead. “My feet! Ack my feet! The sand’s too hot.”

Spike smiled after her, then began to chase her. He caught up quickly. She was loaded down with the cooler carrying the remainder of their iced tea. She was still making “ooh” and “ahh” noises, walking gingerly. Spike threw the towels around his neck and swept the slayer into his arms. They were tired from throwing her, but she was still so light, and as her arms anchored her around his neck, Spike smiled down at her. “You know, slayer. You could have just put those on,” he said, nodding towards the flip-flops she carried in one hand.

“Oh.” Buffy looked at him sheepishly. “I forgot.” Spike’s chuckle reverberated in his chest and she could feel it vibrate against her.

“Why am I not surprised?”

*******************


The ride home had been restful. Buffy had fallen asleep within minutes of hitting the road and Spike had been free to revel in his afternoon while he watched her hair dance around Buffy’s face in the wind of the Desoto’s open window.

Now they were sitting on the couch in Buffy’s room, watching Jeopardy again. He’d woken Buffy up when they were almost home and the two had decided to pick up Chinese food since neither wanted to cook. Contented and full, Spike had been surprised when Buffy sat so close to him on the couch, nuzzling against his shoulder with a contented sigh.

“Are you capable of watching TV without falling asleep, slayer?” he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Maybe I wouldn’t fall asleep so fast if we watched a better show, huh? Ever think about that?” Buffy poked him and her voice was playful. She’d been quiet since they’d gotten back, but her good mood was still there.

“What do you want to watch?” Spike attempted to glare at her, trying to look so severe she’d let him keep the remote. The phone rang before he could tell if it was working.

Sighing reluctantly, Buffy got up and reached for the phone.

“Hey Giles,” she said lazily. Buffy’s mood was still sun-soaked and calm. “Yes, we had a lot of fun. It was just what I needed and Spike was…,” she hesitated, looking at him, “Spike was great.” She looked him in the eye as she said it, smiling softly.

Spike pretended to focus on the game show for the rest of the conversation. In reality, his thoughts were racing. Spike knew Buffy knew how he felt about her, and she’d certainly made it clear that she didn’t reciprocate, but still. Today seemed like a chance—a sliver of hope had been granted him and Spike wasn’t about to give it up easily.

Moments later, Buffy returned to the sofa, collapsing against him in an exaggerated expression of how tired she was. Resuming her position next to him, her head resting on his shoulder, she said, “Thanks Spike. I should have said it sooner—should have said it multiple times, but…Thanks. Today was amazing and cathartic and…I meant what I said. It was exactly what I needed. So thank you.”

Spike waited a few long moments to see if she’d say anything else. “Thank you too, Buffy,” he said turning to face her. “You didn’t need to do that for me and—.” Looking at her, he knew she was already asleep. Smiling, he carried her up to bed, happy that she’d changed into sweats when they’d gotten home. This way he didn’t have to wake her up before putting her to bed. Her hair still smelled like the sea and her skin glowed even brighter than normal, but her sent was still there—vanilla and lemon, with a touch of almond. She is so beautiful, he thought, laying her gently in the bed.

Quickly he changed into his own “pajamas” and climbed into bed. Spike wasn’t sleepy yet. Far from it, but he couldn’t resist the chance to hold her—intoxicated by the small possibility that she wouldn’t even mind if she knew he was doing it. So carefully he cradled her in his arms and watched her breathe. Best day of my undeserving unlife, he thought, as her breathing slowly lured him to sleep and her warmth spread itself through his body—a blanket he’d never realized he was missing.


Chapter 6: Keep Your Friends Close...

When Buffy woke up, the first thing she knew was that her powers were back. In fact, she felt better than she had in weeks—since before her mother died. Spike was wrapped around her again, but this time Buffy wasn’t surprised. In fact, it was kind of comforting. Maybe Mom was right, she thought. Maybe I wasn’t giving Spike enough of a chance. I kept being bitchy to him just to be sure he kept driving me crazy. It was a vicious cycle.

Spike seemed to be sleeping pretty soundly, and Buffy’s skin felt dry and sticky. That’s what you get for not taking a shower after swimming in the ocean. Slowly, so as not to wake Spike, she extricated herself from his arms and climbed out of bed. Heading straight for the shower, Buffy made sure to grab her robe. No need for a repeat of yesterday, she thought. If she made that mistake twice, Spike might get the wrong idea. And it was the wrong idea, right? Of course. Don’t be stupid Buffy. There’s no way you could actually want Spike to think….think what? Sooooo not actually labeling the idea that is wrong.

As she entered the bathroom, Buffy saw her bathing suit and Spike’s trunks hanging over the bathtub, drying. She smiled. Yesterday was so much fun. Too bad the whole vampires-can-go-outside-during-the-day thing means I’m never going to get time off again. Sighing, she climbed into the shower, letting the water pound her back for several minutes while she let scenes from the day before wash over her. There was a nagging in her stomach as she thought about Spike and how he’d completely defied her expectations over the past couple days. How ironic. Riley tries to get the Initiative to take Spike away and it only ends up bringing us…closer. Buffy’s heart fluttered at the thought she realized she’d just almost had. The question is, how close? Buffy’s response to her internal question was to turn off the hot water, forcing herself to stand under a stream of ice until she shivered.

*************************

Spike woke up when he heard the shower turn on. He’d hoped to wake up with Buffy in his arms again, but knowing she’d been careful not to wake him up was a good alternative. The phone rang while she was in the shower and Spike answered it, unsurprised to find Giles on the other end.

“Where’s Buffy?” Giles asked, accusatorily.

Spike sighed loudly, “In the shower Rupes. You want me to go get her? I’m sure—”

“Absolutely not, Spike. Just tell her to come to the Magic Box as soon as she can, so that we can discuss the situation. I’m afraid it’s starting to get a little chaotic in some parts of the world, now that vampires can roam free.”

“Sure thing. I’ll tell her.” He was about to hang up when, “Hey, Rupert. Should I come too? I know the soldier boys are after me, but my bet is that they’re a bit busy right now coping with a truly spooked populace.”

Giles hesitated and Spike could almost hear his brain debating whether he should encourage Spike’s involvement in any of this. In the end Giles said, “You might as well. You can drive Buffy. That way you’ll be here even sooner. By the way,” Giles started in, “are you two really going to persist in sleeping without an alarm clock? I mean it’s almost ten—”

“Right then,” Spike said, interrupting him. “I’ll tell Buffy as soon as she’s done. We’ll be there ASAP.” He hung up, smirking as he imagined Giles’ disapproving look as he realized he’d been cut off.

Spike quickly got dressed and was pulling his shirt over his head when he heard the shower turn off. Carefully, he approached the door and knocked. “Buffy?”

“Yes?” her voice sounded neutral. Spike was relieved she wasn’t irritated, or accusing him of trying to sneak a look at the goodies.

“Watcher called. He wants you—us—over at the Magic Box pronto.”

“Oh,” he could almost picture Buffy’s face as she realized she wasn’t going to have a leisurely morning. “What about breakfast?” Her voice was almost plaintive.

Spike chuckled. “Rupes said that the gang was all there and you know that if Xander’s there, there’ll be donuts. Don’t worry, I promise not to let my slayer starve, even if it means going out to get them myself.”

Spike’s smile was still playing across his face when the bathroom door suddenly opened. A damp but fully clothed Buffy emerged, looking at him with big eyes. “You promise?”

His voice caught in his throat for reasons he didn’t understand, but he managed a determined nod. Bloody hell, you idiot. What? Did you forget how to talk? He watched, apparently speechless, as Buffy returned to her room to finish getting ready. Then it dawned on him. Called her ‘my slayer’ and she didn’t object.
.
*******************

They arrived at the Magic Box just in time to see Anya swat Xander’s hand away from the last donut in a very large box.

“Save that for Buffy,” the blonde said. “If you don’t, then we’ll have to go get more and you’ll just end up eating all of those too.”

“Yes!” Buffy said from the doorway. “Do save that one for Buffy.” She caught Spike’s eye as they sauntered in, and they shared a bemused look over the predictability of her friends.

Suddenly Dawn appeared, hugging Buffy. “When do I get to come home?” she asked, overeagerly. “You’ve got your powers back, right? There’s no need for me to stay another night at Xander and Anya’s. We should give them back their privacy.” Her voice was urgent, and as Buffy’s eyes met her sister’s, the implication of what Dawn was saying hit her. Ewww. Note to self: sex talk with Dawn to help her get over being grossed out. Sex talk with Xander to explain appropriateness of engaging in sex with fifteen-year-old in hearing range. “Yep,” Buffy said. “I’m all better. You can come home tonight.”

Despite himself, Spike was disappointed. He liked Dawn, hell, if he admitted it, he probably loved the little bit, but with her return, Spike would be again relegated to the couch. At least he assumed he would. Not that I’m going to bring that up. Buffy wants me to move, she can bloody well say so.

Giles coughed; his desire to begin none-to-subtle. “Very well then. Now that reunions are over, we should probably begin to address the problem at hand.” Buffy and Dawn took their seats. Spike leaned against the wall behind the slayer’s chair, smiling when he saw her reach for the donut.

“As all of us, and most of the Northern Hemisphere are aware, vampires are now suddenly able to venture out during the day,” Giles began, getting into information mode. “Now, it would appear that whatever is causing this cannot quite achieve a global effect. My sources say that vampires in Australia and South America remain sensitive to sunlight. This discrepancy points to one thing—whatever is causing this is magical and, hopefully, temporary.”

“How temporary?” Anya blurted out. “Because if it’s not very long, I vote we just go home and make sure we don’t invite anyone in until it blows over. No need to get all the scoobies—”

“Ahn,” Xander stopped her. “We can’t just hide. We have to help people. Not everyone knows that vampires shouldn’t be invited in—and even if you do know, this whole daylight thing is making it a lot harder to tell who is a vamp and who isn’t.”

“We have to help?” Anya’s eyes opened widely at Xander. “Why do we always have to help? Can’t someone else help, just this once?”

Xander chuckled softly. “No, Ahn. No one else. Just us.”

“Actually,” Giles raised a finger, “that’s not quite true.”

The group looked at him expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. “Giles?” Willow asked. “What’s not quite true?”

Returning his focus, Giles looked at Willow. “We do appear to have some help in this particular situation. How good the help will be, I’m not sure, but we’ve received an offer.”

“From whom?” Buffy asked, leaning forward in her chair.

Giles regarded her contemplatively and then his gaze moved to Spike. “From the initiative. We’ve received an offer from the Initiative.”

Buffy was out of her chair in a second. “What? And you are entertaining this idea for more than a second, because…?” She glanced nervously at Spike. Buffy knew Giles didn’t like Spike, but now she was suddenly worried that he’d actually consider making a trade of some sort, using the vamp as collateral.

“Sit down Buffy,” Giles said, irritated. “There is no need to get excited. This has absolutely nothing to do with Spike—though, may I say that I am less than pleased with your current solution to the initiative problem. Letting him stay at your house and attempting this silly charade to pass him off as useful to society…it just seems unwise.”

“Giles,” Buffy looked at him firmly. “You said this had nothing to do with Spike. This being half the earth’s vampire population enjoying an all you can eat buffet in the middle of the day. How about we stick to that topic right now?”

Giles glared at Buffy, briefly wondering how she got to be so stubborn. Spike’s smirking face staring at him from behind the slayer wasn’t helping. He just looked so self-satisfied. “Fine. The issue at hand…is, well, the Initiative, or whatever these government people are calling themselves now, want to take over the slaying for a couple of days, so that you can go after the people who cast the spell.”

Buffy stared at him expectantly, as did all the others.

“That’s it,” Giles said, sighing. So much for the big build up.

“That’s it?” Buffy looked at him confusedly and then looked around the room. “Anyone else waiting for the other big, large, Government Issue shoe to drop?” The others nodded slowly, looking to Giles.

“Why do they think Buffy can stop whoever it is, but they can’t?” Willow asked as she petted Tara’s hair.

“Well,” Giles slowly sat down in the last remaining chair. “This Colonel Lewis, whom I believe you’ve met, Buffy, seemed to feel that—in the past—Buffy, the slayer and well, us, had been better at figuring out the scheme’s behind the demons. The government, on the other hand, seems to feel it will best serve a purpose by remaining simplistic and sticking with demon population control.”

“Wow,” Buffy said, relaxing a little. “A government dude who’s willing to admit the government’s limitations. Sounds too good to be true.”

“And probably is,” Giles’ relented. “It certainly does seem a little too…easy, but at the same time I’m tempted to take them up on it. They are perfectly capable of helping keep the vampire population in check, and given that this is a multi-continental problem, they certainly have better resources with than we do. I tried to call the Council, but it would appear they’ve all gone into hiding because some vamps attacked the offices. Regardless, I can think of no reason why the Initiative wouldn’t hold up their end part of the bargain. But, I do agree with you, that they seem way too cooperative suddenly. So, I’m not sure what to do.”

Buffy sighed. Her energy renewal from the day before seemed to be wearing off. Listening to her, Spike had to fight the urge to rub her shoulders or play with her hair the way Willow was playing with Tara’s. “Well, I don’t see we have much choice in the matter, really.” Buffy looked around the room. “You’re right, Giles. There’s no way I can handle this level of demon problem, and frankly it’s hard not to jump blindly at the possibility of getting some help with that. Also, we do need to go after whoever’s causing it and Colonel Lewis is right: the soldier boys just don’t have the capacity to do that. They’re still convinced demons can’t think or plan. Whoever’s doing this has a clear purpose in mind, and the sooner we figure that purpose out, the easier it will be to fix this. So I say…we accept the offer, as long as we remember not to trust them a single inch. I don’t think for a minute this means they aren’t still interested in capturing Spike. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re just jumping at the chance to find more guinea pigs—but at this point, I’ll take what I can get.”

The scoobies all nodded, following Buffy’s logic—following her lead the way they always did.

“Well, good,” Giles said. “Now that that’s settled—”

“Wait,” Buffy interrupted him. Turning in her chair she looked at Spike. “This ok with you, Spike? I mean you’re the one this really might endanger, though I wouldn’t be agreeing to it if I didn’t really think it was unlikely you’d be hurt.”

Spike’s surprise at being asked this question matched the looks on everyone else in the room. Buffy could feel their questioning gazes, but she didn’t care. It’s not like Spike would say no anyway. This was a gesture. A gesture Spike deserved, especially after standing up to Glory. Especially after yesterday, she found herself thinking.

Spike looked at her quizzically. “Didn’t know I had a say in the matter, luv. But what you said sits right with me. And it means you won’t have to fight as much until we’ve got someone specific to look for. I don’t think any of us wants you out there fighting every vamp who gets it into his head that he’s a sungod. Leave that to the initiative—let them actually do some good for once.”

Buffy smiled at him and nodded quickly. “Ok then. Giles, you were saying?”

Giles waited a moment before continuing, still confused by the exchange his charge had just had with Spike. Would she have changed her mind if he’d said otherwise? he wondered. Better not to worry about it just now. Clearing his throat, Giles resumed professorial mode. “Right now, we’ve got two issues that I think are equally important. The first, obviously, is who cast this spell. The second—and this one is less predictable in its outcome—is how long the spell will last. Now I haven’t been able to do too much research yet, but everything I’m finding says that it’s impossible to make this kind of change permanent. Dimensions have their rules and deadly sunlight seems to be one of our dimension’s most important ones and since the spell is currently effecting only half the world, I think we’re safe to say this won’t last forever. So…Everybody to the books. In a minute I’ll call Colonel Lewis to agree to his arrangement, though I suppose they already know what we’ve decided because of their cameras. Spike?”

Spike looked up at him surprised, raising his eyebrows in question. “I’ve got some texts I can’t read. They’re in some demon tongues I don’t speak. I’d like you to look at them—see if you can read them.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Right then. You’re gonna turn me into a soddin’ Scooby. I see how it is.” Spike was on Giles’ heels though, one look from Buffy enough to silence him for the moment. Well, one phrase really. Buffy had just looked at him and mouthed “Thank you.”

*********************

“Can’t we go outside, Dru? This isn’t fair. We’re the ones who cast the spell. Why shouldn’t we get to enjoy it? I want to go to the beach. Come on, it’s not like your skin couldn’t use it—” Harmony was pacing in the crypt she and Druscilla had adopted, when Druscilla suddenly latched her hand around Harmony’s throat. Harmony whimpered, surprised by how strong the skinny vamp was.

“Harmony,” Druscilla said, looking into the blonde’s eyes, “Be. In me.” Druscilla slowly made a gesture with her fingers—pointing first at Harmony’s eyes, then her own. “Be. In me,” she repeated. Slowly, Harmony’s whimpering stopped and the ditzy vamp seemed to grow calm. Druscilla released her gently. “Now, go sit in the corner like a good dolly. Mommy needs to talk to the grown ups and if Barbi doesn’t leave us alone, she’s going to get a spanking.” Harmony nodded slowly and walked over to the corner, facing the walls and letting out a sigh of contentment.

D’Hoffryn’s eyes widened. This vampire, the one called Dru, was certainly unusual. She seemed a bit off…but she had such a hold over the blonde one, D’Hoffryn was still unsure how powerful she really was. This spell of hers had certainly worked, and D’Hoffryn shared her glee in the misery it seemed to be causing in the world around them. He reminded himself to reward Halfrek when he returned for all her help in this globally scaled vengeance spell. D’Hoffryn had been just as happy to help the vamps, but it was Halfrek who heard them calling—who pointed out their need for vengeance.

Dru approached him, her hands clapping as though she heard some far off music. She giggled with glee, sidling right up to D’Hoffryn and kissing his cheek. He jerked back, surprised by the gesture, but the vamp continued to giggle at some unheard joke. Growing irritated, D’Hoffryn watched her for a few more moments before giving up. “I will be back when the time is ready.”

He vanished without Dru even acknowledging his statement, leaving a burnt circle in the center of the crypt.

***************************

Spike’s head ached and he could tell Buffy was asleep from across the room—he could hear her rhythmic breathing to which he was now so accustomed. They’d been researching for hours, and though Willow and Giles seemed to think they’d found the spell, or at least a spell that could have such an impact, they still couldn’t decipher it well enough to help much.

Snapping his book shut with a loud “Thwap!” Spike watched as everyone jerked in their seats.

Buffy sat up, mumbling, “I’m reading, I’m reading,” under her breath.

Giles glared at him warily. “Is there something you wish to say, Spike?” he asked, using his cold, Ripper voice.

Spike smirked at him before saying anything. He spent several seconds looking at the people around the room. “I think we’re washed up for the day, Rupert. I don’t know about the rest of you—well Dawn maybe,” he nodded at the girl’s still sleeping form in the corner, “but I don’t think my brain has been very receptive for the last half hour and I don’t fancy redoing a bunch of reading in the morning. I think it’s time to face facts and call it a day.”

Spike watched as the scoobies all turned their heads to look at Giles hopefully. The elder Brit rolled his eyes. “They really don’t teach you people good study habits in this country, do they?” Glancing around the room, Giles relented. “Fine, fine. Go home, but I want us all back here by nine o’clock tomorrow. And that goes for you too, Buffy.” He looked at her in mock severity. “It’s time to get reacquainted with your alarm clock.”

************************

Spike smiled as he drove Dawn and Buffy home. Buffy had ceded Dawn the front seat when the younger Summers had started to gush about the “coolness” of the Desoto. Spike could see Buffy smirking in the backseat, happy that she couldn’t see him watching her. Sometimes the lack of reflection was useful.

“Where’d you get it, Spike?” Dawn asked, leaning back in her seat to look out the open window.

“I stole it in Chicago a ways back,” he said, glancing at Buffy again to see if there was any reaction to the word ‘stole.’ There wasn’t.

“Well, I think it’s so cool,” Dawn said, for the tenth time. “I wish I could drive, since Buffy refuses to learn how.”

“Well…,” Spike debated his next words. “If it were ok with your sister and this whole sunlight immunity continues for the next couple days, I could teach you to drive.”

Spike watched Buffy in the mirror as her eyes narrowed, preparing to backpedal.

“Only if you practice in parking lots. No real roads,” she said, her furrowed brow relaxing.

Spike was surprised and Dawn whirled around in her seat, excited. “Really, Buffy? I can? Oh yay! I can’t wait to tell Janine. She’ll be so jealous, and—”

Spike gently cut Dawn off with a warning look. Glancing back at Buffy he said, “You ok with this pet? I should have asked you privately before I said anything to little bit.”

Buffy smiled and looked in the rearview mirror. She couldn’t see him there, but she knew he could see her. “It’s fine. It’s just some extra incentive for me to make sure this sunlight spell gets reversed as quickly as possible.”

Spike chuckled and Dawn resumed her babble. Buffy smiled to herself as she relaxed in the back of the car. This is nice, she thought. So nice. I wish it could always be this…relaxing. She found herself staring at the part of Spike’s profile she could see from her seat. He was smiling slightly, listening to Dawn. I hope this lasts.

*********************

Riley decided to spend his break watching the Spike surveillance. He arrived just in time to see Buffy, Dawn and Spike enter the house. Dawn looked excited and was talking to Spike animatedly. Buffy looked tired, but relaxed, with only a small furrow of worry on her brow. There were no microphones—the teams hadn’t had time—so Riley had to really on his lip reading abilities, which were not so good, and action, to interpret what was going on.

He watched Dawn bound towards the kitchen, quickly followed by Spike. Spike, however, stopped and turned, saying something to Buffy and pointing at the couch, before resuming his path to the kitchen.

Riley watched perplexed as he realized that Spike and Dawn were making dinner. A real dinner. Spike can cook? What’s up with that? Buffy joined them after a little while, the last line of worry relaxing as she watched Spike and Dawn laughing. Riley was finally beginning to relax, accepting the domestic montage playing out before him at face value. No need to read anything into this. Then, when Dawn left the room to go set the table, he watched Spike turn to Buffy, an anxious look on his face. He cupped the slayer’s face in his hand, making her look at him as they spoke. Riley seethed in anger, just seeing the two of them touch. They still haven’t done anything to prove they’re a couple, he tried to remind himself.

Riley continued to watch after Dawn returned, watching suspiciously, jealous of any contact between Spike and Buffy. Convinced it was all an act, Riley tried to ignore how much fun it was clear the group was having. What Dawn had said when he and Colonel Lewis were at the house had really gotten to him. It hadn’t occurred to him that his absence would upset other people. He’d been too focused on the fact that it didn’t seem to upset Buffy. Reluctantly, he returned to duty as their dinner ended.

******************************

“I’m doing the dishes,” Buffy insisted, continuing to resist Spike’s protests. “You and Dawn cooked. That means I do the dishes. It’s only fair. It’s the only way to achieve kitchen justice,” she said, smiling.

Dawn had already gone back to the living room, turning on the TV to watch cartoons. She’d change it to Jeopardy whenever Spike came out, but for now, cartoons were good enough for her.

Spike gave in when he saw her smile. He hoisted himself up onto the counter. “There’s no law in the book of kitchen justice that says I can’t at least sit and watch, right?”

“Right,” Buffy smiled at him again, but resumed her quiet. She was lost in thought. Something had come back to niggle at her brain, and she still couldn’t quite remember what it was. It had happened the night the Initiative tried to take Spike. Someone had said something. What was it? Buffy stared at the plate as she rinsed it under the running water.

“Spike?” Buffy looked up at him after several minutes of silence.

“Yeah?” his eyebrow went up. The one with the little scar. Buffy couldn’t help but smile.

“Did you hear those commandos say anything to me the night they tried to take you? I keep thinking I remember something, but it’s all too fuzzy.”

Spike narrowed his eyes, thinking. It took a moment, but then he remembered. The faint sound of Buffy running towards him. The grunt he made when he dodged the taser. In the midst of all that, Spike realized, Buffy was right. Someone had said something. At the time he’d assumed it was one of the commandos, but now, in retrospect he wasn’t so sure. “I heard something…are you sure it was one of the commandos?” Spike looked at her, watching her think as she washed.

“I’m not sure. I just wish I knew what they’d said, whoever they were,” her voice grew quiet as she stared down into the dishwater. “One dish left,” she said brightly.

“It’s ok, slayer. We can tell the watcher about it tomorrow. I bet it’s nothing—I know it’s nothing to worry about right now. Right now I need your help convincing Dawn that looney toons just aren’t the best thing on television.”

That got a laugh. Buffy smirked at him. “This from the man who’s seen every episode of Passions. I don’t think either one of you has the right to be a TV snob.”

The last dish put away, Buffy followed Spike into the living room listening as the debate began.

“How about Jeopardy, little bit? Whaddya say to a little knowledge?”

“I learn all sorts of things while I watch cartoons,” Dawn said archly. “I know now, for instance, that a roadrunner is faster than gravity.”

Spike rolled his eyes, but made room for Buffy next to him on the couch, but she shook her head. “I’m beat,” Buffy said looking at the two of them. “I’m going to go to bed now—try to sleep my way out of this funk.”

“Ok,” Dawn said, distracted by the TV. “Goodnight.”

“In bed by 11, ok Dawnie? And don’t make Spike have to argue with you. He’s not a babysitter, so don’t treat him like one, ok?”

“I won’t!” Dawn’s voice was overly emphatic as she whined at her sister. Buffy smiled at her though and bent down to kiss the top of her head.

Turning to Spike, she said, “And you’ll come to bed when you’re ready? Don’t hurry on my account.” Without waiting for an answer Buffy turned towards the stairs.

“Wait, Buffy,” it was Spike, looking at her worriedly. “You don’t want me to…” He gestured at the couch and then at Dawn.

A worry line formed again in the middle of Buffy’s forehead. “Of course. I’m sorry Spike. You’re right, I shouldn’t have asked. I just thought…” her voice trailed off. She flushed. “I just didn’t realize you preferred…” she still couldn’t finish the sentence. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now you’ve embarrassed yourself. Buffy started to hurry up the stairs when she heard her name again.

“Buffy!” Spike was being more insistent, but trying not to distract Dawn. Buffy came back down the stairs so she could hear him better. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I don’t prefer it down here. I was just asking what you wanted me to do.” He watched Buffy flush again, but this time she smiled.

“Oh. Well. Whichever,” she said to him, beaming before she hurried back up the stairs. When she’d reached her room, Buffy blushed again, embarrassed at her embarrassment. Spike must think I’m a loony—getting all nervous about sleeping arrangements. Looking through her drawers, Buffy realized that all her pajamas were dirty. As she headed towards the laundry basket to go laundry diving, Buffy spotted one of Spike’s shirts on a hook. You shouldn’t, she told herself as she reached for it.

It was soft and smelled like Spike—leather and cigarettes, with a touch of something sweet—probably from his hair gel, she realized. Pushing the voices in her head to the side, Buffy quickly changed into the shirt, appreciating the softness of the fabric as it brushed by her nipples. Feels so nice. Spike won’t mind. Quickly, before she could change her mind, Buffy climbed into bed, curling up in a ball on her side of the mattress—making a conscious effort not to take over the whole thing.

*********************

Spike and Dawn went to bed an hour later. Dawn didn’t seem to question it when Spike followed her upstairs and eased the door to Buffy’s room open. In fact, she didn’t even notice. Spike slid into the room, waiting for his eyes to adjust so he could see in the dark. Quickly, he changed into his sweats, but as he approached the bed, something made him stop.

Buffy was lying on her back on her side of the bed. Her face as turned to the side and her hair was wrapped around her head in a way Spike found endearing, but hard to imagine as comfortable. Her position wasn’t what startled him, though. Lifting up the covers, so he could glance beneath them and see her form, he confirmed his suspicion and felt his cock harden instantaneously. Buffy was wearing his shirt, and while she’d slept it had ridden up, revealing the silken sheen of her underwear, hinting tantalizingly at the ease with which the whole ensemble could be removed.

Spike almost shuddered as he got into bed—his mind moving too quickly for him to follow. It was when her heard her moan that he froze, turning to look at her. She slowly opened her eyes, and appraised him sleepily.

“Hi, Spike,” she said, her voice husky with slumber.

“Hello, luv,” was about all he could muster as a reply, when suddenly, she reached out to him, pulling herself towards him, until she was pressed against his body, nuzzling him.

“I was dreaming about you,” she said, making him catch his nonexistent breath. Slowly her hand slid across his chest, before dipping down and gripping him by the side. They lay that way for a minute, then two, but Spike could tell she wasn’t asleep. Then, she looked up at him, her head resting on his chest. “If I asked you to do something, would you do it? No questions asked?”

Her eyes were pleading and Spike was quick to agree. “Of course. You know I would. What do you want me to do?”

Her eyes suddenly dropped, as though she couldn’t look him in the eye. Nothing happened for a minute until Spike reached out a hand, tilting her face upwards, forcing her to look at him. Her green eyes seemed to overwhelm him, and as she watched his blue eyes glitter, Buffy’s resolve hardened.

“Spike, would you…” Buffy looked at him, her voice catching. “Would you kiss me?”

Spike stared at her for a few moments in disbelief. Is she actually asking me this? Please let this be real. He stared until her eyes started to widen and he realized she was afraid he’d say no. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he bent his head, turning his body so that he’d have a better angle. He closed his eyes as their lips met, nervous before first contact, but suddenly bold the moment he tasted her.

Quickly wrapping his arms around her waist, Spike pulled Buffy toward him and she hooked her arms around his head, mussing his curls as she did. Their mouths opened quickly, tongues finding each other. He tasted like cool fire to her, sending a purifying jolt through her mouth down to her toes as he searched her mouth with his tongue.

She tasted better than anything Spike had ever tasted. He already knew she was a good kisser. He remembered that and more from Willow’s spell the year before, but the magic then must have interfered with her essence, because this was intense. This was Spike’s senses on overload as he tasted her sweet tang—a mixture of vanilla and almond, much like her smell, but richer, creamier.

They couldn’t stop. Buffy’s brain was begging her to keep it up. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, as she arched her back, pressing her breasts into his chest. His hand pressed into the small of her back, holding her against him, only to vanish for several seconds before finding its way back to the same spot on her back, beneath the shirt. His other hand was in her hair, cupping her head and her face, tracing her jaw.

Buffy’s hands—at first locked behind Spike’s neck—began to move. Her right moved down to examine the line of his jaw, tracing it as they kissed, feeling the strength of his cheekbones in her fingers. The other slid to his back, clawing it and rubbing it as she tried desperately to maintain as much contact with him as possible.

Only when she became desperate for air, furious at her need to breathe, did Buffy break the kiss, gasping. Her eyes locked with Spike’s as she struggled for air and he began slowly kissing her brow, nibbling and sucking down the side of her face, the line of her jaw, down her neck, until they reached his shirt. By then, Buffy was ready for more and she crashed her mouth back on his, even more fervent than before as she reveled in his taste. She’d never been kissed like this before, never with this much sensation. Sure, she’d kissed Angel, and Riley, but she was usually able to keep thinking about some small thing in the back of her mind, while she kissed them. Even if it was just a vague awareness of her surroundings. Until now, she’d thought it was impossible to turn that sensor off—impossible for the Slayer to ever be completely in the moment.

Trembling, Buffy slid her hand to the edge of Spike’s sweats, tracing the line of the elastic. She could feel his arousal pressing into her. Had felt it the past two mornings, when she’d woken up. As she skimmed the line of his hip bone, she felt his cock jump against her hip.

The smell of her arousal was starting to overwhelm Spike. He could even feel her wetness as her underwear made contact with his sweats. Her body was radiating heat like nothing Spike had ever felt—she was warming him with every touch, just as he was cooling her. His second hand slid beneath his shirt, and quickly, before he or she could change their minds, he pulled the shirt off. It required breaking the kiss for a second time, but it left Buffy bare in his hands, aroused past the point of reason. Gasping as his hands connected with her breasts, tweaking them, kneading them. Buffy watched as he began to kiss a path from her lips to her nipples—eventually licking them slowly and sucking each one into his mouth while he listened to her small sounds of happiness. Slowly, he slid his mouth back up to her neck, nestling there as he kissed her pulse.

Buffy began to be frustrated by the slowing pace and, quickly tracing the line of his sweats a second time, she suddenly plunged her hand down into his pants, wrapping her hand around his cock as she slid her hand up and down it, skimming the pre-cum off with her thumb and using it to keep her hand sliding gently. Spike had bitten down on her nipple when she’d grabbed his cock, startling her with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

His hands were everywhere now and he moved his mouth back up to hers as he caressed her incessantly, following the rhythm she was creating as she stroked his cock. Spike kept expecting her to stop and think—he was waiting for Buffy to grow suddenly angry and kick him out of bed. His fear held him back, despite the almost deafening orders his head—both of them—was giving him to slip off her underwear. To keep going. Kissing Buffy was so amazing—the shocks it was sending through his body made kissing her better than actual sex with most women—he didn’t know what to do. Her hand was moving on his cock faster and faster. Suddenly, he stopped her, pulling her hand up and breaking the kiss. Their eyes met and Buffy’s chest heaved as she took in air she kept trying to convince herself she didn’t need.

Looking in his eyes, Buffy suddenly saw the fear, the doubt. Buffy kept her eyes locked on his as she returned her hand to its position on his cock. Smiling, Buffy whispered, “Please, Spike,” before pressing her mouth to his again. He didn’t need more permission than that. Too eager to slip them off, Spike simply tore her underwear away and quickly set to exploring her pussy. Flipping over, so that he was on his back, Spike suddenly lifted Buffy, lying her down on top of him, her back resting against his stomach. The natural arch in her back that occurred in this position made it easier for him to spread her legs and slip his fingers along all her folds, before finally settling one on the clit and drumming it as he began fucking her with is fingers.

Her hands had nowhere to go, so when she felt him add a fourth finger to the three he was already shoving inside of her in a slow, even rhythm, she reached her hands behind her head, finding his face and his hair, unable to hold herself still. Spike’s arms held her steady on top of him as she began to come. He whispered, “Be quiet, luv. Little bit’s about,” before helping her over the final hurdle as he pumped his fingers in and out.

Buffy came with a huge expulsion of breath. Unable to scream, her body seemed to expel every last ounce of air as she writhed on top of Spike. When her trembling subsided, he quickly shifted her back to his side, locking eyes with her before he began kissing her again. His fingers never left her pussy—always teasing or tickling or caressing some part of her as they kissed. Her hand returned to his erection, stroking it until it grew even more. Just feeling the girth in her hand made her mouth water and her pussy wet.

Slowly, Buffy began to kiss Spike’s chest, focusing on his nipples as her hands flitted about his entire body. Her kisses descended, reaching the erotic jut of his hipbone, where Buffy lingered—tracing the outlines of his bones with her tongue. Spiked bucked as she stayed just above his cock for what seemed like forever. He was lost in sensation—unable to think clearly about much of anything except for his need for release. His mind had become one chant Please Buffy, Please Buffy, Please Buffy, the double meaning not lost on him. He wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted her to do, but when her mouth suddenly wrapped itself around his penis, slowly—too slowly—moving down and down its shaft, he was pretty sure he’d figured it out.

With a sure grip, Buffy wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft, squeezing and twisting it in unison with her mouth. The other she used to tickle his balls, pressing his perineum behind them in an effort to intensify his pleasure. She started out slow, taking bits of him in her mouth and sucking as hard as she could, knowing her slayer strength extended even to her mouth muscles. Eventually, more and more fit in her mouth and she swirled her tongue around the tip while keeping the whole thing deep inside her mouth. Reaching up to pinch his nipple, Buffy decided to increase the pace.

Going faster and faster she smiled around his cock as an enthusiastic Spike put his hand down to caress her hair and guide her as he pushed his cock further and further into the recesses of her mouth. When he realized he was going to come, Spike froze—feeling the burn in his balls and not knowing how Buffy would react. Buffy felt it coming, and stroking a free hand up and down his thigh, she encouraged him, speeding up her mouth’s descent on his shaft with each pump, until Spike felt as if his entire member was in her mouth and out of it all at once. When he came, he grabbed a pillow, biting it to muffle the roar that escaped his chest. Her mouth never left him, suckling him as he recovered, nibbling on his thighs. When he was done, he looked down, realizing she’d swallowed his juices effortlessly. She was grinning, and he smiled as he pulled her back up to him.

They were done for the night and they both knew it. Both hoped more would come later, but for now, they were done—spent by the intensity of their kisses. They didn’t bother to put clothes back on and it took a while before Spike was willing to remove his hand from her clit, which he’d kept drumming on quietly, even after they were done. He wrapped his body around her small one, protecting it and loving it. They fit together perfectly, his mouth resting on her neck—his favorite place to kiss. One arm wrapped tightly around her waist and Buffy could feel the remainder of his erection pressed against her. She burrowed into his cocoon, falling asleep almost as soon as she’d closed her eyes. As usual, Spike followed her minutes later—Buffy’s breathing the best soother he’d ever found.

*********************

Riley watched in fury as the two of them bucked and writhed in bed. Until now he hadn’t believed it, but while he watched Buffy go down on him, watched her lock eyes with him as she swallowed him whole—he knew. Buffy had never once looked at him like that and she’d never looked like she enjoyed giving him head—not like she seemed to enjoy Spike. When Spike came, Buffy had closed her eyes and swallowed, allowing her face to look peaceful—not strained as if she were doing something distasteful.

Now Riley watched them sleeping, as the held each other. That had never happened either. Buffy always woke up, and snuck off to go patrolling when she thought he was asleep. It’s not right, he thought, the words screaming violently in his head. Spike’s a vampire. A demon. He doesn’t deserve Buffy’s kindness, let alone Buffy’s body. Riley’s memories of sex with Buffy were heady. Buffy’s post-coital attitude had never been very cheery, but while it was happening, Riley had always been so focused—so intent on ensuring that she was just as pleased as he was. It was impossible, he knew. Her slayer powers provided her with muscle control beyond the dreams of most people. There was no way he could do for her what she did for him.

That was what got Riley most, as he watched them. The cruel irony of a slayer’s make up; Built to kill vampires, whatever forces had created her had ensured that no ordinary man could satisfy her—could even keep up with her. Watching Spike and Buffy, Riley realized that Spike could and his fury was blinding.

****************************

Buffy woke up happy before she even remembered why, and then she was even happier. No regrets. Wow, she thought. I don’t think I’ve ever had ‘no regrets’ before. It was strange. Buffy knew that what had happened would change things—that things were now more…complicated, but she didn’t care. She snuggled against Spike’s chest, wrapping her arms around him as she watched the clock tick towards the alarm. She didn’t want to wake him, but she wanted a chance to talk to him before they got out of bed—before the real world started to butt in.

Nuzzling him, she murmured his name in his ear. “Spike,” she whispered. “Spike!”

He slowly opened his eyes, twisting his head to look at her as the memories of the night before came flooding back. Quickly, he squeezed her to him, attempting to communicate physically what his brain was screaming at him: Never let her go! Never let her go!

Watching him wake up, Buffy continued to caress his chest. God he’s beautiful, she thought, looking at him. How did I not notice before? His muscles, his shape, his skin…Buffy sighed in contentment as she pressed herself to him, noticing that just that simple act caused her nipples to harden in response. “Good morning,” she said, voice still thick with sleep and intensity.

“Mmmmm,” he shifted, draping a leg over her, “Good morning indeed.” His cock grew the second he woke up, and Spike knew Buffy could feel it against her. Slowly, he began kissing the back of her neck, tracing the lines of her veins with his tongue. “Did I do it right?” he asked, whispering the words into her ear.

Buffy’s skin jumped and she twisted in his arms, staring at him with a question on her face. “Do what right?”

Spike smiled. “Relax, pet. I’m just teasing. You asked me last night if I could kiss you. I was wondering if you were happy I did.” His voice was calm, but tighter than normal and Buffy could tell how important her response was to him.

“I don’t think I could have imagined it going any more perfectly,” she said, honestly. Peering up at him she smiled just in time for the alarm to go off. “Grrrr,” she buried her face against his chest. “I don’t wanna. I want to stay in bed with you.” Immediately her arm was back around him, hand playing across his chest.

Spike smiled at her sleepiness. “We’ve got to pet—don’t have a choice. You heard Rupes. Now, chop to—I’ll try to get some breakfast ready while you wash up.”

Buffy began to get out of bed, acquiescing to his instructions, when she turned to him, eyes glittering with… With what? Spike wondered.

“Take a shower with me,” she said, dashing all his wondering away.

“But, Dawn?” Spike asked, trying to responsible, but finding the prospect of showering with Buffy virtually irresistible.

“She’ll be asleep for another twenty minutes. Don’t worry.” Buffy stood up, smoothly scooping Spike’s t-shirt from the ground and pulling it over her head as she walked towards the door. She waited patiently as he slid into his sweats before leaving for the bathroom. Spike could barely stand it. She doesn’t have any underwear on. All I have to do is reach out and…Instead of finishing the thought, Spike waited while Buffy turned on the shower, before reaching out and touching her between the legs, quickly finding her clit and starting to flick it back and forth.

“Bad Spike,” she said, in a half-hearted attempt to stop him. “Wait for a minute.” She made Spike climb in first, before getting in and pushing him under the showerhead, watching his curls spring to life. Spike’s erection was still going, and after looking at him standing there for a minute or so, Buffy suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck. “Lift, please,” she whispered to him.

Quickly, Spike picked her up by the ass, letting her legs wrap all the way around him. Turning slowly, he held Buffy under the showerhead, watching as she giggled under the water. When he finally removed her from the aqua’s attack, she just looked at him. Suddenly, placing her palms on Spike’s shoulders, she lifted herself up. The movement was sudden and Spike was surprised, but then Buffy came slamming back down on top of him, having used the process to spear herself with his cock. He almost came out of surprise when he first felt the pull of those extra muscles gripping him. She continued to provide the thrust herself, moving up and down on his erection as he stood in the shower. She took her time, even though she knew they had to be careful about Dawn waking up. Slowly, but steadily, she increased her speed. She and Spike weren’t kissing this time, but they’d locked eyes and hadn’t broken since her rhythm started.

Spike watched, amazed as Buffy pumped him in and out of her, feeling her build up occur in complete parallel to his own. Buffy sped up and began slamming him into her harder and harder, until they both came, simultaneously. There was no hiding the noise in this one. They both let out loud, guttural groans as Buffy slammed down on him one last time. Spike held her there for another couple minutes, letting Buffy wash his hair as she kept her legs locked around him, his cock tight in her pussy.

When he finally set her feet back down on the tile, Buffy’s knees still didn’t work too well. He held her against him, one arm wrapped around her waist, as they finished bathing in comfortable silence.

Dawn had known at breakfast that something was different. Buffy was glowing and the intensity she and Spike suddenly seemed to share was almost tangible in the kitchen as Spike made waffles.

“I didn’t know you could make waffles,” Buffy said, watching him.

“Three days ago, luv, you didn’t know I could make pancakes either.” Spike looked at her, the wide-eyed happiness that seemed to emanate from her pierced his heart. If I was in love with her before, I don’t know what I am now. Now, I’m just…

Xander honked, summoning Dawn for school and Buffy and Spike were left alone again. They quickly cleared the kitchen. Buffy couldn’t decide if they were enjoying a companionable silence…or if Spike just didn’t want to talk to her. Her heart fluttered when she heard the little worry voice in her head: He’s Spike. He’ll admit that last night—and this morning—was fun, but come on Buffy. There’s no way he’ll want a repeat performance, or if he does that it means anything beyond the fact that it was incredible. Buffy’s breath caught in her chest as she stood next to Spike, drying dishes. What if it wasn’t incredible for Spike? He has been around for over a century. He’s had way more experience than you have—you’re so stupid. Stupid Buffy, Stupid Buffy. Why did you ever think…”

“We’re supposed to be at the Magic Box in fifteen minutes, pet,” Spike said glancing at Buffy. She was lost in thought—worrying thought apparently, since her brow was furrowed and the light had gone out of her eyes. Probably trying to figure out how to pretend last night never happened, mate, Spike said to himself. Best be prepared for that, then. Be realistic.

“Oh. Yeah,” Buffy looked up at Spike, her eyes searching his. “I’ll just be a minute,” her voice was small, disappointed as she said it. Buffy felt as though something had been suddenly and irretrievably lost—something she hadn’t even been sure she’d found yet.

“Buffy?” Spike called after her.

She froze—he’d said her name—not ‘pet’ or ‘luv,’ which she admitted were growing on her—and especially not ‘Slayer.’ Turning, she looked at him—a small tug of hope settling in her stomach. Maybe it doesn’t have to be over…

“Got any plans about what you’re telling the scoobies?” Spike tried to keep his voice light—as though the information he was requesting wasn’t vital to the very nonbeating of his heart.

“You mean—” Buffy’s eyes widened— he thinks there’s something to tell—she kept going, “telling them about us? I, I hadn’t…I don’t…um…”

Spike smiled at her discomfort. “It’s ok, luv. I was just checking.” He took several steps towards her, till they were inches apart and he could cup her face in his hands. “I don’t think we know enough about what’s going on here to venture telling the scoobies just yet.”

Buffy melted into his hands. This is going to be a problem if I can’t hold it together whenever he touches me. A problem I kind of like. “So, you think…something’s going on?”

Spike took a quick step back, as if bitten. Stupid git. Shouldn’t have presumed. “Sorry, pet. I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous—”

It was Buffy’s turn to smile. She stepped forward, pressing herself against him and looking up at his now taunt face, watching his cheek muscles clench. “You weren’t being presumptuous and I wasn’t questioning the reality of the, you know, ‘something.’ I was just checking that you…noticed too.” She flushed, looking down, determined not to look at his face, afraid he’d see right through her, see… See what? I’m not sure what this means, so I probably shouldn’t worry that Spike can read it on my face. Buffy forced herself to look up, smiling at him reassuringly.

His arms were back around her, holding her lightly against him. “Noticed? Don’t be a silly bint. Of course I noticed. I was there too, remember?” The relief that coursed through Spike’s body surprised even him. You’ve gone and given it all away, mate. She can do what she wants with you and you can’t do anything about it. Let’s just hope she hasn’t quite noticed that yet.

Buffy giggled and then straightened. “We’re going to be late—as usual.”

“Right, then. Off to Scooby land,” Spike released her, but she didn’t step away.

“Thanks Spike, for understanding why…I can’t tell them yet. I promise,” she looked at him earnestly, “I promise to tell them once I—”

“There’s no hurry, luv. We both know what their reactions will be and they’ll be the same whenever we tell them. Right now, though, I don’t fancy having them offer their two bits about the situation until we’ve sussed it out for ourselves. I don’t want them to convince you…”
Spike’s voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence out loud. I don’t want them to convince you to stop.

Buffy smiled up at him. “Exactly. And I’m not to keen on them staking you before I can figure out why I suddenly don’t want to do it myself any more.” Spike smiled at that and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

“Can’t say I’m not with you on that, pet. Now hurry up. If we leave right now and I push the Desoto a bit, we can still get there on time.” With that he turned Buffy towards the door and gave her a slight swat on the ass. “Hop to.”

“Hey!”

************************

Willow noticed the difference as soon as Buffy and Spike arrived. Buffy’s laughter caught all of their attention as she and Spike walked in and Willow was surprised to note that Spike was holding the door for her. They were talking animatedly about something, but the second Buffy realized everyone was staring at her, her mouth clamped shut.

Willow and Tara looked at each other significantly, confirming they’d both just seen the same thing.

Giles, however, seemed oblivious. Looking up at the two blondes, he put down his book and gazed at them seriously. “Thank you two for arriving on time. For once.” He looked at Buffy significantly, but she ignored him and plopped herself down in the nearest chair before taking a donut from the box Xander eagerly proffered her. Spike meandered to his accustomed spot against the wall, behind Buffy.

Clearing his throat, Buffy could tell that Giles was about to launch into some kind of ‘research-takes-discipline’ lecture, when the bell on the shop’s door sounded.

Looking up, Buffy’s eyes widened when she saw Colonel Lewis and Riley standing in the doorway. Instinctively she stood up, placing herself as a barrier between the two men and Spike. Spike could feel her heartbeat quicken and felt his own muscles tense as he looked at the two men. He couldn’t help a smirk though, when he noted the men’s poor attempt at disguise. They were dressed in Bermuda shorts and novelty t-shirts—clearly attempting to look like tourists, but looking more like people who’d stumbled across Xander’s wardrobe. Besides, Spike reflected, it’s not like Sunnydale gets tourists.

Everyone stood around silently for what seemed like forever, before Giles finally said. “Well, hello…” and then began making British stuttering noises and cleaning his glasses.

“Good morning, Mr. Giles,” Lewis said, nodding at him curtly. “Agent Finn and I are here to discuss your progress with this sunlight situation.” Turning to Buffy he gestured in the direction of Spike, noticing her defensive stance. “We’re not here to worry about him right now, Ms. Summers, you can relax.”

“Now that’s bloody likely,” Spike muttered, but he could see the tension ease in Buffy’s back as she decided to resume her spot in the chair.

“Well then,” Giles looked anxiously about the room, “Progress. Yes, you want to know about our progress, well we—”

“We haven’t made much, unfortunately,” Buffy sighed. “Giles thinks we’ve found the spell that whoever it is used, but so far we’ve been able to find zilch about reversing it.” Buffy kept her eyes trained on Lewis. Why is Riley here?

“Oh!” Willow made her excited noise as her face lit up. “Actually Buffy, right before you got here we did find something interesting—though I’m not sure it will help with the reversal.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows expectantly. “And that is…?”

“Well,” Willow looked eagerly at Tara, “Tara was reading this text and she found—well she found an account of this happening before.” Willow quickly shoved the book towards Giles, who returned his glasses to his face and squinted at the text. “Apparently this happened in Europe in the early 800s,” Willow said. “But there’s no mentioning of how long it lasted or when it stopped. Obviously it stopped at some point because, well, duh..vamps appear to have had a sun allergy for quite sometime now…but it does shed some light on who cast the spell to begin with. “Apparently only vampires can cast the spell—or at least, you can only cast the spell if you have the cooperation of several vampires.” Willow looked at the non-plussed faces around her.

“That’s great Will,” Buffy said, trying to sound encouraging, “but I can’t say I’m exactly surprised that vamps would be involved in a spell that rids them of one of their greatest limitations.”

“But that’s not all,” Tara spoke up, anxious that their discovery be recognized. “Willow hasn’t told you everything yet.” She looked nervously at the two men in Bermuda shorts before continuing. “According to that account, the spell can’t be done if the sole purpose is to aid vampires in feeding. Apparently, there has to be some grander scheme, a bigger purpose behind it all. That’s why the spell doesn’t last forever. Once the purpose is achieved, things go back to normal.”

“So this is a spell done by some vampires with a bigger plan than sun soaked happy-meals? Goody goody,” Buffy rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the commandos. “That’s it boys, we’ll let you know when we have more.”

“But, Buffy—” Giles started to interrupt, but Buffy shot him a look, before smiling broadly.

“Of course Giles. You’re absolutely right. I was being impolite.” Grinning devilishly, Buffy picked up the box of pastries. “Would you two like a donut?”

************************

Riley wasn’t listening to Colonel Lewis. He hadn’t been all morning. He hadn’t even really listened to what happened in the Magic Box. He’d just stared at Buffy and then at Spike, alternating. He could tell right away that the rest of the group didn’t know. Riley might have been the ex, but he knew how Buffy was when she was dating someone. PDAs were her forte, and especially with the scoobies—the people she felt the most comfortable with—she never seemed to feel there was any reason for holding back.

But if the group didn’t know? Riley was kicking himself as Lewis continued to bark out orders to the latest arrivals—reminding them to aim for the heart. If the group didn’t know then it really had been an act. Dawn had made up a story, and for some reason Buffy and the others had decided to run with it. And somewhere along the way…she and Spike stopped acting. The irony of it did nothing to sooth Riley’s pain. Buffy and Spike were together and it was his fault. His fault that when Buffy made her donut crack, Spike had smiled not just with amusement, but with pride. It was Riley’s fault that Spike looked at Buffy like he owned her, like his eyes were hands that he couldn’t keep off of her.

Standing in the Magic Box, Riley had almost lost it—almost thrown it all away and tried to stake Spike right there, but he couldn’t. Knowing that to do so would be to hurt Buffy was actually a negative for him. Hurting Buffy hadn’t been part of the plan. Or at least, not hurting her much. Riley just wanted to remove Spike from her life. If she won’t let me in, she damn well won’t get the chance to let him in, Riley had thought when he suggested the importance of knowing the long-term effects of the implants to his superiors. Now it was too late. Riley knew he’d been stupid when he’d gotten mad at Buffy for sparring with Spike. He knew she hadn’t cared about the vamp. But that was then…and now, thanks to you, she does care about him. So what are you going to do about it?

**************************

They’d been in full research mode since Lewis and Riley left and Giles had finished the thought Buffy had made him stop.

“I just think,” Giles said, looking earnestly at Buffy, “that we should tell them about Glory. I still think it’s a possibility that she has something to do with this. Especially in light of the “higher purpose” clause. Glory could simply be using this as a chance to distract you.”

“And what would the initiative do with information about Glory, Giles? Do you think they’d even be able to understand the concept that a god—a real live, female fashion victim god, was involved?” Buffy looked at her watcher closely. “Besides, this isn’t Glory’s style. She doesn’t team up with lower beings other than her minions. She wouldn’t lower herself to ask for help from vampires. Trust me.”

“Buffy’s right,” Spike interjected, startling both of them. Buffy’s eyes widened as Giles’ narrowed when they turned to look at him. “I’m just sayin’. During my brief encounter with the wench, she spent a fair amount of time discussing the inferiority of vamps. Apparently we’re ‘completely useless.’ She even went so far as to compare us with mosquitoes.”

Giles chuckled. “Well at least that’s one thing I can agree with Glory about.” Looking at Buffy he relented. “Fine, you’re probably right and I know you’re worried about what they’d do if they found out Dawn was the key.”

Ever since then everyone had been reading, well everyone except Spike and Buffy. She couldn’t concentrate and the antsy movements she made—drumming her pencil, glancing around the room every five minutes, shifting excessively in her seat—kept him on edge. Spike could almost read her thoughts. “I’m not research Buffy, I’m slay Buffy. Give me something I’m good at,” he imagined. He tried reading, but he always ended up watching her, catching her smiles as her eyes flitted on him. I hope I’m one of the reasons she can’t concentrate, he thought, his lips turning up into a small smile.

Ack! I can’t concentrate, Buffy said to herself for the umpteenth time. And neither can Spike because you’re distracting him. You know you need to research. It’s your job right now. Deal with it. Buffy stared with renewed vigor at the page in front of her, only to be undone by the low growl she heard in her stomach. And now I’m hungry. Great. That’s gonna help. Too bad Giles thinks you can’t eat lunch till after 1. It’s not my fault Xander only gave me the chance to eat one donut.

Spike heard her stomach growl and smiled. All right, bit. Enough is enough. Standing up quickly, he looked around at the surprised faces. “I’m feeling a bit peckish. I think it’s time for lunch.” Turning to Buffy he watched her eyes light up at the word ‘lunch.’ “There’s a sandwich stop down the street, right? Why don’t Buffy and I go get us a round?” Glancing at the watcher’s anxious face he said, “Don’t worry Rupert, we promise not to skip town on you and after lunch I’m sure everyone will feel reinvigorated and all that.”

“Please Giles?” Buffy looked at him plaintively. “I’m so hungry.” This statement was followed by a round of enthusiastic nods from the rest of the scoobies.

“Fine, fine, but you all need to learn to eat an actual breakfast. It’s ridiculously early for lunch…” But Buffy and Spike were already at the door. Willow raised her eyebrows as she watched Spike grab the door for Buffy and place his hand on the small of her back to guide her out.

********************

As soon as they rounded the corner and the view from the Magic Box was blocked, Spike had her pressed against the side of a building, kissing her. His hand quickly found its way under her shirt, resting in the curve of her lower back as the two blondes caressed each other with their tongues.

When he pulled away Buffy was gasping for breath and her lips were slightly reddened from the pressure of the kiss. “Been wanting to do that all morning,” he said, smiling as he turned, releasing her from the wall. Quickly he laced his fingers through hers and began hurrying her down the street.

Already Buffy was starting to forget what it was like when Spike couldn’t go outside in the daytime. All of this just seemed so natural.

They took their time ordering, enjoying the normalcy of it as well as the chance to touch each other. Buffy knew she was guilty of her fair share of PDAs, but there was something different about it when it was Spike making the display. It wasn’t just about ownership—though Buffy had to admit that was there, Spike was definitely possessive—or even about advertising their happiness. When Spike touched her, when his hand skimmed across her arm, or their legs brushed together as they walked, Buffy felt not only the electricity of their attraction, but also some deepening sense of calm. With Spike with her, near her, touching her, Buffy’s confidence sky-rocketed. There wasn’t room for worry—just the absolute feeling that they’d manage, whatever happened.

******************

Druscilla and Harmony watched the pair from across the street, careful to stay hidden. Harmony was whining, making derogative remarks about the slayer as she kicked at stones with her feet. Dru just focused on watching even though it was making her skin crawl with disgust. The slayer is turning him into her little lapdog, bouncing about him like a school girl—she’s completely distracted him. Dru’s eyes flashed with anger as she realized the tiny blond had really managed to break Dru’s connection with Spike. She seethed. Normally, Spike would be able to feel me a mile away. He should be dropping little goldilocks like stones. That’s what Spike does—he looks for me, follows me. He spent years with me and I’m not going to let him go that easily.

Dru tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as Spike and Buffy walked down the street holding hands, laughing. She grimaced when she realized how human he looked. Now it’s my turn to find him, she thought. Don’t worry, Spike. I won’t let you be anyone’s puppy. You just need me to remind you how to play.

************************

When Buffy and Spike returned with the food, Giles watched as the order in the room disintegrated. The scoobies’ boredom increasing their interest in food a little past the point of reason.

Sighing, Giles was about to ask for his Rueben when he noticed that Buffy and Spike were still standing together as Buffy handed out the sandwiches. Their legs were pressed together and he watched as Buffy giggled when she and Spike’s heads collided as they reached for drinks. Spike’s hand went up to brush her forehead, a smile on his lips—an unfortunately familiar ice creeping into the watcher’s stomach. This was not good.

He spent the rest of the day watching them, confused by what he saw. Moments after the exchange Giles had witnessed ended, the two separated as Buffy chatted with Willow and Spike returned to his position in the background. Spike continued to watch Buffy, that much was obvious, but with her back to him, Giles could not tell if Buffy was looking at Spike, or just oblivious. It was hardly surprising that Spike looked at Buffy like that, he reminded himself. Spike had already made his feelings known. What disturbed Giles was that Buffy seemed to have suddenly decided she didn’t care—she clearly wasn’t worried about the effects prolonged exposure to her would have on the vamp.

Giles continued his vigilance even after the room had quieted and they’d all returned to research. This time he was surprised by Spike’s diligence—the obvious effort he was putting into the text he was reading. Giles watched as Spike took more and more notes. If anything, he was more effective than Buffy, who—despite Giles’ best efforts—was still a haphazard reader. Giles still could not understand why the vamp was trying so hard—especially since the spell they were trying to reverse had no end of benefits to him.

By the end of a somewhat fruitless day Giles still didn’t know what to think. Spike obviously cared for Buffy, but Giles had only seen a few smiles of amusement on Buffy’s part. There was no denying she had recently become more relaxed in the vamp’s presence, but Giles chalked that up to their closer proximity. Still, he thought, I need to have a word with Buffy. Remind her to be careful about how nice she is to Spike. His affection for her appears to be genuine, however disturbing, and she should be aware of it in how she treats him.

As they were all packing up—their brains officially fried after two days straight of research, Tara had an idea. “Does anybody want to go to the Bronze tonight?” she asked, looking around the room, glancing at Giles in case he considered the idea frivolous.

A chorus of “Yeah!”s was her response. “Great idea Tara,” Anya offered. “I’m definitely in the mood to dance a little—besides, Xander thinks dancing is great forepl—”

“And I’m definitely up for it,” Willow said, squeezing her girlfriend’s hand in encouragement.

“Spike and I have to patrol, but we’ll definitely come by after,” Buffy volunteered. “I can’t leave everything to those commandos—especially when we’re finding a whole lot of nothing. Hey, Xander, do you think you guys could take Dawn? I don’t want to leave her alone while we patrol—” Buffy suddenly realized Xander was staring at her and Giles’ brow was furrowed.

“What?” She looked around, confused. “It’s ok, we don’t have to bring Dawn. Geez—”

“No, Buffy. I’ll be happy to bring Dawn. That’s not…Why do you have to bring Spike to the Bronze?” Xander’s voice was flat. It was clear he simply thought Buffy had made a slip of the tongue.

“Oh,” Buffy flushed and she lowered her eyes in embarrassment, but then she looked up. “He has to come Xander,” she said keeping her voice as neutral as his. “With the commandos about…with Riley about…it’s not safe to leave him unattended.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “But I hate it when Spike comes. He—”

“Xander, stop whining. Buffy’s right,” Anya interrupted him, taking him by the hand. “It doesn’t matter, besides I’m personally looking forward to seeing William the Bloody dance.” Her eyes danced with amusement as she regarded Spike. Everyone turned to look at him.

“What?” he asked, his voice harsh with irritation. “I can dance. I’ve got more rhythm in my pinky than Harris has in his whole body,” he paused, looking uncomfortable. “I just don’t like to is all. I’d rather watch and eat that onion blossom thing they make. That’s why I never dance. Not because I can’t.”

Buffy’s eyes sparkled. “We’ll just see about that then, won’t we?” she said, laughing.

Giles was not terribly pleased with this development, especially in light of his increasing anxiety about Buffy and Spike’s relationship, but her logic wasn’t faulty, so he refrained from saying anything as everyone headed out the door. At least it will mean I get a night of peace, he thought.

*********************


Chapter 9: Do a Little Dance, Make a Little Love...
Previously on Buffy: Spike and Buffy continue to pretend they're just pretending while the vampire situation worsens.

**************

Now that they were patrolling together Buffy was suddenly nervous again. They’d made it through dinner with Dawn without Dawn seeming to suspect anything odd, and Buffy had been too anxious to start patrolling for there to be much time after Dawn left with Xander to talk about much. But now, here they were patrolling and there wasn’t a vampire in sight—well, other than Spike. Maybe they’re sleeping. Maybe they’ve returned to human hours or something.

“Cat got your tongue, bit?” Spike asked lazily. He was enjoying this, but Buffy seemed nervous so he’d resisted touching her as of yet. Despite his best efforts, though, the desire to take advantage of their brief time alone was starting to win him over.

“No, just…thinking,” Buffy answered, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “And thinking takes me extra work…so, hence the silence.”

“Need a sounding board?” Spike asked, hoping she’d share with him. He knew Buffy was a very private person—Isn’t that why soldier boy left in the first place?—but he wanted her to know he’d listen, if she wanted him to, but he wasn’t going to resent her if she didn’t. Selfish numbskull, thinking he has a right to know Buffy’s thoughts.

“Um…” Buffy bit her lip, chewing it slowly as she debated. “I guess…maybe. I think I’m just a little confused about… you know, us…I just am a little surprised, is all, and,” Buffy’s voice caught as she stopped walking to look up at Spike, “I guess I just want to know what it means? What am I doing? Where are we going with this?”

Spike looked at her, forcing himself to resist kissing her, knowing she needed actual answers and feeling a growing pit in his stomach as he realized that they were answers he didn’t have.

“I can tell you where you’re not going.” Dru’s voice cut through Spike like fire. How didn’t I feel her coming? Whirling around to face Dru, he put himself between her and Buffy.

Buffy’s eyes widened with recognition, just as a fist landed firmly on her chin. Twisting to the right, Buffy suddenly saw Harmony holding her hand and looking at her knuckles. “Ow!,” the ditzy vamp whined. “You made me hurt my hand!”

Buffy and Spike braced, squaring off back to back. It was only a couple of seconds before the fight began—before the female vamps sprang into action—each attacking their chosen quarry.

Spike let his demon come out. He was going to need this to fight Dru. He knew he’d been willing to stake her just a couple weeks ago, but now he actually wanted to. Now she was actively threatening Buffy. Stupid bitch. And she’d brought Harmony along, what was that about? He lunged, but Dru kept managing to stay just out of his reach. She’s playing bloody cat and mouse. He noticed quickly though, that it wasn’t just that she was keeping her distance. She seemed unwilling to hurt him and Spike began to have the distinct feeling that this was just for show: An excuse to make their presence known.

Dru started giggling, as she watched Spike try to fight her. He was so confused. Every time he reached for her, she’d jump out of the way with a quick swat of her razor sharp nails. “That’s a bad Spike,” she said, looking at him. “It’s a bad Spike who’s gone and forgotten who his keeper is. Mixing it up with these,” her eyes darkened as she looked at him, “little girls.”

Great, Dru is in one of her talking moods, which means we’re here all night, or until some fairies start talking to her. How in bloody hell did I put up with this for so long? It’s such a put-on. Spike rolled his eyes and glanced to see how Harmony and Buffy were faring. He could tell that Buffy was winning, would be dusting Harmony any minute. He smiled at the thought of Buffy facing off with Druscilla. I’ve no doubt who will win that scuffle.

“A little help here, Dru, would be nice,” Harmony spat out as she fell over yet another tombstone. “She keeps making me trip.”

Spike watched as Dru was forced out of her continuing diatribe about Spike being a ‘bad puppy.’ Rolling her eyes, she said, “Enough,” and suddenly she and Harmony were gone as smoke floated through the air.

Buffy and Spike stood, confused. “Um..Where’d they go?” Buffy asked, looking at him disconcertedly. “I thought Dracula was the only one of you guys who could do stuff like that. What’s going on?”

Spike sighed, and walked over to her. “Apparently Dru’s gotten herself a spot of magic. She used to be pretty good at it, back in the day. The poofter and I mad her stop though, after she almost turned Darla into a toad.”

Buffy laughed. “Now that’s something I’d like to see. Darla as a toad.”

She and Spike stood in silence before slowly resuming their walk through the cemetery. “That was majorly anticlimactic,” Buffy offered, looking at him sideways.

“At least we aren’t dead,” Spike smiled. “Though I don’t really think they were trying to kill us.”

“You got that sense too?” Buffy asked. “I was afraid it was just me. Or just Harmony being ridiculously uncoordinated.”

*********************

After waiting around for a while, Buffy and Spike concluded that Dru and Harmony weren’t coming back, so they headed for the Bronze as planned.

“Back there, um…” Spike looked at Buffy nervously. He wanted to kiss her so badly, to tell her that Dru’s appearance had only reassured him that Buffy was what he wanted.

“Yeah?” Buffy answered against her will. She was really hoping Spike would forget all about the conversation they’d been having before the interruption. She wasn’t sure she was ready to have it.

“You asked me, where I thought this was going. This whole you and me thing.” Spike ducked his head so he could try to see Buffy’s face. She was hiding behind her hair. Stopping, he reached his hand out and brushed it back, turning her face to look at him. “Don’t do that,” he said, his voice slightly stern. “Don’t hide your face. It’s too beautiful.”

Buffy flushed, not sure what to say. Unable to move her face as he directed her gaze towards him, Buffy tried to look at her feet, anything to avoid looking into his eyes. When she looked into them she knew she gave everything away, that he could see the want, the need, the gratitude, swirling behind them. I can’t let him see everything yet. I’m not ready. I’m not ready for him to know how I feel. Hell, I don’t even really know myself. I just wish I could stop thinking about what it would be like to love him…Wait! I thought ‘love.’ Shit. Buffy shook her head as she engaged in the internal argument.

Spike watched the turmoil play out on her face, frustrated that she wouldn’t look him in the eye. Buffy continued to stare anywhere but at Spike. I can’t let him know I’m falling in love with him. He’ll think I’m crazy, and not in the apparently fun, Druscilla way. He’ll think I’m clingy and needy and he’ll get irritated and he’ll leave. They always leave. Buffy whimpered slightly at this thought, and Spike gave up waiting. Wrapping his arms around her he plunged his lips towards hers, willing her brain to calm—to listen to what her other senses were telling her. Every time he kissed her, hell, almost every time he looked at her, Spike’s erection hardened. He couldn’t stop thinking about the memory of her eyes watching him as she moved up and down his cock. In his mind he hoped her eyes meant what they seemed to scream at him. He hoped they meant she cared.

“Well, Buffy,” he pulled his lips away, still holding her tight against his chest. “I know where I want this to go. I know I want to be a part of your life—a part of that ‘me and mine’ you were talking to Lewis about. But I don’t want to be just another scoobie you take care of—”

“They do more—” Buffy interjected, but Spike put a finger to her lips, silencing her as he began tracing their outline with his finger.

“Shh. Let me finish,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “I also want to help you, to be someone you don’t have to worry about, to worry about you—which I already do—to love you,” his voice caught on love and she inhaled sharply, but she didn’t stop staring into his eyes—little patches of midnight blue that matched the sky. “What do you want?”

Buffy focused on his eyes for several seconds, searching them for something she hadn’t realized she’d lost. Do it, Buffy. It’s time. Listen to your body. It’s your job. It’s your biggest resource. Listen to it. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and she tried to pull him closer. Looking him in the eye, she said, “I’m not sure Spike. But,” she paused, chewing her lip—you owe him at least this much—“I think your list sounded pretty good.”

Spike smiled, knowing that, at least for now, that was the most Buffy could give him. More than I ever thought I’d get, he thought as his heart thrilled and as he felt hers beat faster. Bloody lucky to even be having the conversation.

Their eyes still locked, Spike began kissing her again; slowly, purposefully, trying to say to her what her voice could not. Gently they lowered themselves to the ground, still kissing—neither of them willing to close their eyes. Buffy’s gaze enveloped Spike’s senses as she looked at him, pleading that he understand—I know what I’m doing and I like it.

************************

They were late getting to the Bronze, and Buffy knew she and Spike looked disheveled from their make out session on the grass, but she didn’t care. Buffy wanted to dance and she was especially giddy after actually hearing Spike say the words, “love you.” It was strange. She’d known he felt that way, had heard him say them before—had even spent a fair amount of time wondering what she could do to make him stop—but now, hearing them again, Buffy couldn’t argue with the immediate sense of calm that swept over her body just remembering them.

Calm, implicit trust, she realized. This was a new feeling for her. Sure, Riley had been dependable and she’d trusted him. He was certainly fiercely loyal, that much had been clear. But Buffy had never trusted herself with him—always afraid that she’d do something, say something that would finally make him realize just how different they really were. Buffy laughed under her breath as they approached the door—people buzzing everywhere. Ironic really—I wanted a normal boyfriend because I thought it would make me normal. Not so much.

Spike smiled down at her. He wanted to know what she was thinking, but didn’t want to intrude. They were holding hands and he caressed the soft skin of her thumb, content to wait. No need to rush it. Don’t want her running off because I get too close too fast.

Buffy smiled back at him, appreciating his willingness to let her think, again feeling a calm settle in her stomach. Buffy was becoming increasingly fond of that calm—it wasn’t something she would give up easily. Even Angel hadn’t made her feel like this. She’d loved him, of course, with all the fervor of a teenager, but being with him was heady—an intense feeling of love, but a constant fear that it would vanish. A fear that had been there even before Buffy knew about the “happy moment” loophole in Angel’s soul clause. Looking back, she realized that part of her had known she and Angel would never last forever—his need to repent, to endlessly dwell in the guilt, would have overwhelmed her. She was too conflicted herself to be someone like Angel’s anchor. An anchor she could be, but not the only one.

Squeezing Spike’s hand as they entered the Bronze, Buffy knew that she was, in some ways Spike’s anchor too, but that he was different. He let her breathe, let her run from it when she needed to. Spike’s anchor is his love for me, not my love for him, Buffy reasoned—catching herself on the words “my love,” and smiling. He does things for me, not because of me. I may be his path to redemption, or…whatever, but I’m not his only goal the way I was with Angel. Spike likes life—pure and simple. That’s why he helped me stop Angelus and that’s why…

Spike stopped suddenly and forced Buffy to stop as they reached the dance floor. They could see the scoobies. Dawn was laughing at something Willow said. Buffy furrowed her brow when she recognized one of her own dresses on Dawn’s petite figure. Does that look as inappropriately short on me as it does on her?

Buffy looked up at him. She could see the question in his eyes. Her face flushed. She had no idea what to do. Telling her friends still sounded terrifying, but then Buffy was here to dance and it was time to admit that the only person she wanted to dance with was Spike. Looking into his eyes Buffy wanted so badly to give him what he wanted, what he deserved.

“Well pet?” he said after they’d stood in silence for over a minute.

Buffy kept looking at him. “I say we wing it,” she giggled a bit as his eyebrows went up. “I mean, I still don’t think I’m ready to tell them—I’m not sure what to tell them anyway, but I want to dance with you and I don’t want to have to pretend I don’t want to. Soooo,” she looked up at him, hoping he would agree, “let’s just do what we want and not worry about what they think. Besides,” a mischievous grin spread across her face, “it will be kind of fun to watch them freak out.”

Spike smiled slightly and reached up his hand so that he could trace the line of her jaw. Even that sent her heart rate skyrocketing and Spike’s smile widened. There’s no denying that her body likes me, at least. “That sounds great, luv. But what will you do when they ask what’s going on? Because they will, you know. They will ask—and hopefully they’ll do that before they try to stake me.”

Buffy smiled. “I’ll tell them the truth.”

Spike’s brow furrowed, “Which is?”

“That I have no idea, but I really like it so far.” Her eyes danced as she watched him contemplate her response, waiting until their eyes met and he nodded.

“Sounds reasonable. And I can’t say I’m not looking forward to Harris’ face when I’ve got you all to myself on the dance floor.” Spike leaned back, relaxing, surprised by Buffy’s willingness to do this at all but unwilling to question it.

“Yay! This will be fun,” Buffy said bouncing where she stood, making her hair flounce. “Now just give me a sec to run to the ladies and remove the grass I know is in my hair.”

Spike caught her hand and kissed her cheek before she could go. “You looking stunning luv, grass and all. You always do.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, flushing. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she said before she quickly turned and headed for the restrooms.

“Not bloody likely,” he said under his breath before turning to face the Scooby table. Here goes nothing, he thought as he sauntered in the direction of the table.

Dawn saw him first as she giggled hysterically at something Tara had said. “Hey Spike!” she said, sounding as if she were actually glad to see him and surprising Spike further by leaving her stool and hugging him.

Looking down at the head now pressed against his chest, Spike smiled, surprise warming his voice, “Hey Little Bit. It’s good to see you.”

A chorus of “Hey Spike”s came from the rest of the table as he settled onto a stool. They were being friendly. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

“What are you drinking?” Xander asked. “We just called for another round, so the waitress should be here in a minute.”

“I’ll have…” Spike looked at the boy—Man, he’s a man, play nice—and smiled. “I’ll have whatever you’re having Harris. You strike me as the a beer drinker, and that’s what I’d like.”

Xander nodded his head in acceptance then looked up suddenly. “Wait, where’s Buffy?” His eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his voice nonchalant.

“She’s off powdering her nose,” Spike said, smiling at Xander’s return to suspicion. “That might take a while though, considering there was a line out the door at the loo.”

“Did you guys have a rough night patrolling?” Willow asked.

“You could say that,” Spike said, smirking a little before he remembered Druscilla and Harmony. “We certainly had a strange run-in, but I’ll leave Buffy to tell you that. I know she’ll want to see the looks on your faces when she tells you—”

“When I tell them what?” Buffy appeared suddenly at Spike’s side as she slid on to a stool next to him, blatantly and unnecessarily using his arm as support and letting her hand linger.

Turning slightly, so he could see her better he almost jumped when he suddenly felt her hand on his thigh. “Um…when you tell them who we ran into, bit. Right odd pair to be hanging out together, don’t you think?”

Buffy’s brow immediately furrowed and Spike was almost sad he brought it up when suddenly her face relaxed and Buffy broke into a laugh. “Oh, I’d forgotten for a second. You’re right though, truly strange.” Turning to the rest of the group, her voice eager for their reactions, she said, “Spike and I got ambushed by—you’ll never guess—Druscilla and Harmony!” She laughed again, stopping only when she realized none of the scoobies were.

“Druscilla’s back?” Tara whispered, looking nervously about the Bronze as though the brunette vamp might suddenly appear.

“Well, yeah…” Buffy’s voice faltered, surprised by their reactions. Spike slid his hand around her back, resting it lightly on her hip in reassurance. “It’s ok, really. They didn’t actually even try to hurt us that much. It was a more we-want-you-to-know-we’re-here encounter than an actual fight. No worries.”

“Now that’s a strange thought,” Xander interjected, a smile starting to hover around his face. “Druscilla and Harmony working together.” Quickly, he focused on Spike. “It’s like a Joy Luck Club for Spike’s exes,” he said, laughing.

“If by that you mean that it’s a club whose members consist of Spike’s exes, I guess you’d be right,” Willow said. “You always make the strangest analogies.”

Buffy looked sharply at Spike at the word “exes.” “I keep forgetting you actually dated Harmony,” she said under her breath, grimacing. Spike squeezed her hip playfully.

“Sounds more like the blind leading the blind to me,” Anya added. “I mean Druscilla is undeniably crazy, and Harmony’s almost too blonde to function. What could the two of them possibly pull off?”

“Hey! No need for blond jokes,” Buffy said, pouting. “Especially not from a pseudo-blonde like yourself. Not all of us are dumb you know.”

“I’d like to second that,” Spike said bemusedly, his eyes focused on Buffy’s pouting lower lip as he began to slowly rub the small of her back.

Buffy smiled at him as she traced the seam of his jeans along his thigh. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said, turning to face the rest of the group. “Tonight is about fun. We can worry about the Amazingly Unthreatening Duo in the morning. Right now, let’s dance.” Grabbing Spike’s hand before anyone could react, Buffy hopped from her stool and began pulling him towards the dance floor. She carefully threaded her way to the middle of the crowd and turned to face him.

Spike immediately placed one hand on the small of her back, pressing her to him. The band began playing a slow song and the dance floor cleared slightly, leaving couples to the dance. Spike’s hand joined his other at the small of her back and Buffy leaned her face against his chest, wrapping one arm around his waist and pressing the other to his chest next to her face. They swayed in time to the music as they closed their eyes and wallowed in the knowledge they were holding each other. Spike bent his head to kiss hers and whispered, “Bloody heaven,” as she smiled, snuggling her head harder against him.

Back at the table everyone except Dawn sat staring at the pair with their mouths agape.

“What? Um… How? Um…what?” Xander said, pointing disbelievingly.

“That’s, um…well, that’s odd,” Willow managed, gulping as she turned to Tara. “I swear I didn’t do another ‘I will it so’ spell. I swear.”

“I believe you, sweetie,” Tara said, nodding reassuringly. “Do you think maybe Harmony and Druscilla did something to them without them noticing? Maybe a spell?”

“Why would Spike’s exes cast a spell to make him like Buffy?” Anya asked, her voice calmer than the others. “Besides, he already liked Buffy. Remember?”

“So someone’s done something to Buffy, then,” Xander said, his eyes still locked on the dancing blondes. “Can we kill them? Whoever did this, can we kill them?” he asked, the panic in his voice growing. “Because I barely survived last time when those two got engaged.”

“Yeah,” Anya confirmed as she played with her drink. “That was weird. At least they aren’t kissing. Because that, that was—” A small cry from Xander made Anya look up. Buffy and Spike were now kissing, quite passionately. His duster was covering most of them, so it was hard to tell where his hands were, but there was definitely movement. Buffy’s hands were wrapped around his neck, her fingers playing with his hair.

“Oh my eyes. My eyes,” Willow grimaced, hiding her face in Tara’s shoulder.

“Would you guys relax already?” Dawn said, surprising them out of their disgust. She looked at them laughing. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. Buffy and Spike are just putting on a show for the commando guys, remember?”

Looks of recognition slowly began on their faces, but then Xander shook his head. “Wait, no. It can’t be that. That would explain them getting along, him hanging with us, the dancing maybe. But that does not explain why they are currently…” Xander gestured back at the couple, who were still kissing, “bleeh!”

“Sure it does,” Dawn said, laughing at his discomfort. “Spike is supposed to be Buffy’s boyfriend. The government people are watching them to see if it’s true or not and they have Riley to verify whether or not Buffy is treating Spike like her boyfriend. If Buffy weren’t making out with Spike at the Bronze, that’s what would be weird.”

Everyone stared at the teenager, realizing they couldn’t really fault her logic. Then they looked back at Buffy and Spike who had finally stopped kissing now that the song had sped up. Instead the two were dancing together, suggestively, their eyes locked. “So…you’re saying that that’s an act?” Xander said incredulously.

“Yep,” Dawn said perkily, taking a sip of her Shirley temple.

The others exchanged doubtful glances. “If you say so Dawnie,” Willow said, patting the girl’s hand. “If you say so.”

*********************

Out of the corner of her eye Buffy could see the group staring at them, but she didn’t care. She was focused on the rhythm of her hips pressed against Spike’s as they ground to the music. She could feel his erection pressing into her and the knowledge that it was so close, but so far away was making her wet.

Spike could smell her arousal and it was only making him harder. Leaning his face forward, so he could whisper in her ear he drawled, “Next time, I want you to wear a skirt. This problem would be easier to remedy if you didn’t have so many clothes on, bit.”

Buffy flushed under his gaze before standing on her tiptoes and tilting her head so she could whisper in his ear. The movement pressed her breasts into him, caressing her hardened nipples. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait,” she whispered, surprised by her own forwardness.

The statement elicited a low growl from Spike who immediately pressed his cock even harder into her. His jeans were stretched tight across it, outlining its shape. Spike’s lips descended to her neck, licking and nipping at her skin.

“You taste…so good. Like caramel,” he whispered in her ear. She tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access as his lips and tongue explored her collarbone. Buffy was startled by the effect Spike had on her. How she could never turn her body off the way she had with Riley—with Riley she would switch herself on and off depending on where they were or what she was doing. With Spike…Buffy was most definitely switched on and she was pretty sure she didn’t ever want to be switched off again.

Tugging on the curls at the base of his neck, Buffy felt as if she could come right there, just with him kissing her, just with the knowledge that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. Her breathing was coming in short gasps and her jeans were soaked with excitement. Dancing in his arms, his duster shadowing them, Buffy slowly moved one of her hands down, hiding it between their bodies, inching down his chest until she could grab his erection through his jeans. The shock of it brought his face up to hers and with their eyes inches apart and Buffy’s hand massaging his penis, she looked at him and whispered, “Would you think less of me if I told you how much I love your co—”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before Spike’s lips came crashing into hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, declaring ownership as it swirled around her tongue. The kiss was urgent, more about pure desire than any of their previous and Buffy lost herself in it and the light caresses Spike’s hands were making all over her body.

Forcing herself to pull away, Buffy tried to catch her breath. “Take me home, Spike. Please,” she said, looking imploringly at him. “I want to…I need…”

“Shhh, pet,” Spike hissed as he looked at her flushed face. “We’ve got all the time in the world. Now come here and dance with me. Relax a bit. We can’t go back to the table with you all hot and bothered—at least not so visibly hot and bothered. Let’s just dance, we can have fun without it getting so…”

“Hot?” Buffy whispered, allowing him to guide her back into his embrace. He didn’t press against her and though she could still tell his erection was there, the urgency was gone. He stroked one of her arms with his fingers, sending cooling shocks into her skin that seemed to spread through her body, calming it with the promise of things to come later.

After a while Spike slowed and stepping back, took her hand. Buffy was surprised to find Spike leading her back to the table. “We can’t avoid them all night, bit,” he said when she stopped short in surprise. “Besides, none of them staked me in the back while we were dancing, so something must be up,” he smiled softly as Buffy nodded.

“Thank you, Spike,” she said, resuming their stroll to the table. “I can’t believe I forgot about them.”

“I wouldn’t let you, pet,” he said. “You’d leave in a second if you thought I would separate you from them. I can’t let that happen.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, but she didn’t get a chance to say anything in response. They were at the table, which was, she suddenly noticed, absolutely silent. Buffy settled onto her stool, trying not to let their stares bother her. “You guys having fun?” she asked, trying desperately to sound normal. Maybe Spike and I weren’t too bright about this.

“We’re great,” Dawn chirped as she smiled at Buffy. “We were just talking about the commandos and how they are watching your every move, and you know, monitoring yours and Spike’s behavior.” Dawn looked significantly at the rest of the group.

Buffy was oblivious to Dawn’s hidden meaning, but complaining about the commandos was a topic other than her and Spike, so she jumped for it. “Yeah, it’s weird knowing that your every move is being captured on camera, and that people are watching you— Oh my god!” She grasped Spike’s arm suddenly. “Cameras at the house, cameras everywhere…” she looked at him significantly, amazed that she hadn’t realized this sooner. Riley had seen everything. Not just the ‘act’ of Spike sleeping at her house, but also the other, more intimate, more real acts that had taken place in her bedroom.

“What’s wrong Buffy?” Xander asked, his voice strained. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. You and Spike are pretty…convincing.”

Buffy’s head jerked back to look at Xander—understanding causing her to loosen her grasp on Spike’s forearm. They think it’s all part of the act. Glancing nervously at Spike, Buffy was at a loss. Should she tell them that it wasn’t an act, that she and Spike were really…really what? Hell if I know, Buffy thought, searching desperately for words.

Spike snorted. “I should hope so. Playing at the happy couple gets a bit grating after a while,” he sneered, glancing slowly in Buffy’s direction. “The slayer here can’t seem to keep her sarcasm to herself, and I’m pretty sure that if she hits me in the nose on camera, our whole cover will be blown. Don’t think the government supports abusive relationships even if the one being abused is an evil, scary vampire.” Spike chuckled.

Buffy stared at him. He went with it. He’s willing to pretend because I’m not ready yet. Turning to face her friends, Buffy smiled brightly. “Anyway, I think Spike and I have proved our couple-dom enough for one night, and it’s getting late. I think it’s time Dawn and I and…” she waited purposefully, pretending to hesitate, “Spike went home.”

No one else at the table moved as the three gathered their coats and left. “I think we’ll hang out a bit longer,” Xander managed as Buffy and Dawn walked away, Spike close behind them. The rest managed low, “unhuhs” in agreement as all of them continued to stare at the door even after Buffy, Dawn and Spike were long gone.

Anya broke the silence. “Well, I for one am not buying that for a second. I’d be willing to bet a whole day’s worth of Magic Box profits that Spike and Buffy are just pretending to…well, you know, pretend.”

“This can’t be good,” Willow’s brow was furrowed. “I mean, I knew Buffy was sad that Riley left, and I can’t imagine that having him come back all of a sudden is helping matters, but I didn’t think she was hurting enough to…”

“To what? Shack up with a vampire who will just end up hurting her more,” Xander’s voice was bitter. “Of course that’s what she did. And you know what? Spike’s the reason Riley left to begin with. Riley told me.”

“What?” Tara looked surprised. “That doesn’t make sense. We didn’t even know that Spike liked Buffy before Riley left. There’s no way they’ve been doing this since before Riley left. I just don’t believe that.”

“Neither do I, Xander,” Willow said, looking at him. “What do you mean Riley told you that he left because of Spike?”

The glint of anger in Xander’s eyes softened a bit. “You’re right, Will. It wasn’t because of anything as overt as…what we just saw. Nothing like that. Riley just said that Buffy wasn’t letting him in, wasn’t letting him know her as well as Riley was letting her know him. He…he compared himself with Spike; said something like, ‘She lets that stupid vamp see more of the real her than she lets me.’” Xander looked at the three women in front of him. “I told him he was crazy. That Buffy hated Spike. Now I’m not so sure.”

************************

Buffy knew they should wait until they were sure Dawn was asleep. She didn’t want to scar Dawn any more than Xander and Anya already had. But her skin was crawling and Spike had let her borrow his duster on the way home because she’d been cold. The smell of him had engulfed her, a heady mixture of leather, smoke, and…something almost citrusy, tangy…like fresh cut grass.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Spike was on her. She knew, had known at the Bronze, that tonight would be raw, exciting. She even forced herself not to think about the fact that everything they did was being recorded, that Riley would see her. It’s his own fault. He shouldn’t have come back. Shouldn’t have tried to take Spike away. Speaking of Spike… He was kissing her now, running his hands under her shirt, under her bra, squeezing her nipples quickly before sliding away. His hands felt like they were everywhere and Buffy moaned softly as she untucked his shirt, running her hands up his chest, which felt like ice to her touch in comparison to her own skin.

She started trying to pull his shirt up while still kissing him frantically, when suddenly he stepped back, holding her in front of him with his eyes flashing. Buffy was panting from the kiss and, well, everything else. “Do it slowly,” Spike said looking at her with dark eyes. It wasn’t a request, and for just a moment Buffy balked at following an order from Spike, before realizing it was a game.

She relaxed her shoulders and nodded, shaking free of his grasp so that she could step forward and reach his belt. Slowly, keeping her eyes on his the whole time, she undid the belt and pulled it out, dropping it on the floor. Then she undid the button on his pants and slid her fingers along the top, where fabric met skin, making him bend into her touch. Smiling, she suddenly crouched to the floor, keeping her eyes on him long enough to see the flash of confusion, before turning her attentions to the boots on his feet.

When she’d gotten them untied, she motioned for him to push them off, guiding him over to the bed in his socked feet. Standing in front of his sitting form, she stood between his legs, pushing her hands up and under his shirt—making as much contact as possible for pulling it over his head. Then she stopped, her hands in the air, hovering as she contemplated what she wanted to do next. Her face was inches from Spike’s but she didn’t look at him, just stared at his chest as if it were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Finally, bringing her hands down against his skin, drawing paths of warmth across his flesh as moved her fingers lithely over his chest, she said, “You’re stunning,” before lowering her lips to his nipple and sliding her tongue out to brush the top of it.

“Can’t hold a candle to you, pet,” he said, itching to wrap his arms around her, itching to kiss her. After several more minutes of caressing his flesh and nuzzling his neck, Spike’s skin was crawling with anticipation, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Slowly, Buffy returned to his pants, unzipping them and pulling him to a standing position in one swift motion. He watched as her eyes widened in delight as his cock broke from its restraint.

“Have I told you how sexy it is that you go commando?” she asked, slowly wrapping her hand around the base of his cock and beginning a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. Forcing himself, Spike reached down and stayed her hand.

“Now, it’s your turn,” he said, nodding towards her clothes. “Take them off.” His eyes danced as he took in her surprise. This will be fun.

“But,” her mouth made an “O” shape that almost made Spike cave. “I—I thought you were going to…”

“Not a chance, luv,” Spike said, his voice light as he sat down and leaned back on the bed to rest on his elbows. “I fancy a little show and tell.” He cocked his head to the side and looked at her. “I tell you what I want to see, and you show it to me.” He smiled wickedly. “How’s that sound?”

Buffy flushed. She knew Spike was pushing her, but she couldn’t, could she? She felt embarrassed for feeling embarrassed. It wasn’t fair. He knows I don’t have as much experience as he does… Buffy bit her bottom lip and stared at the floor, unsure of what to do next. She didn’t look back up until Spike started making a clucking noise. Forcing herself to look him in the eye, Buffy still couldn’t understand why she was so nervous.

“It’s ok, Buffy,” Spike said, looking at her, emphasizing her name, resisting the urge to fold her in his arms when he saw the fear in her usually sparkling eyes. “You. Are. Beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, in fact. I just want you to see what looking at you does to me. It’s a game pet. You know I wouldn’t hurt you. At least I hope you do, because I wouldn’t. Just—”

Spike stopped when Buffy started to unbutton her blouse, a small smile spreading across her face. Looking at her, Spike couldn’t help growling before he said, “Stop, luv. I haven’t told you what I want to see yet.”

Buffy’s fingers froze and she looked at him expectantly, the sparkle slowly returning to her eyes as she watched Spike look her up and down lingering on her mouth and her hips, before returning to look her in the eye. She could see his cock twitch whenever something was particularly to his liking and slowly, a soft purr began to emanate from him.

Spike licked his lips, trying to find saliva again. Too good to be true. Dreamt about this so much…can’t believe it’s actually happening. “I want to see your bra…but not on you. I want to see you take it off with your shirt still on.”

Buffy giggled then. That’s such a high school trick, she thought smiling, happy that Spike had given her something easy to do first. Keeping her eyes locked on his, Buffy’s hands slid under her shirt, unlatching the lacy fabric at its clasp nestled between her shoulder blades. Slowly she pulled one strap down her shoulder until it escaped her shirt and then pulled her arm through. Reaching across to her other arm, she slid her hand up the sleeve until she found the strap, and then she pulled. The bra jerked her shirt to the side as she pulled it out, making her breasts bounce and her nipples harden against the fabric.

She heard Spike’s sharp intake of breath, knowing he didn’t need it to breath. Smiling, she tossed the bra at him as she awaited his next instructions. She’d already taken off her shoes and socks when they’d arrived home and her toes curled against the carpet as she waited.

Spike picked up the bra and looked at the black lace, realizing it would have been completely see through. “Damn,” he said, looking up at her. “Knew I should have bloody well had you take off the shirt first.”

Buffy smiled knowingly, refusing to engage in his banter. She looked him in the eyes and held his attention until she slowly moved her gaze to his dick, focusing on it and purposefully making her eyes widen. She looked like a love struck fan with an unusual focus, but her gaze didn’t waiver and Spike could smell the arousal starting to seep out of her.

Unable to get her to look up, and not sure he wanted to, Spike issued his next command. “I want to see what the Slayer wears under her jeans. I’ve seen that top drawer, I bet she has something interesting on tonight.”

Buffy flushed, but not with embarrassment. Keeping her eyes focused on his cock—she could tell that she was torturing him because he kept leaning back further, trying to catch her eye—she quickly unbuttoned her jeans, slid them past her hips and let them fall to the floor. Her determination was rewarded when Spike’s cock twitched hard to the right and he sat up quickly.

“Jesus, Buffy,” Spike’s voice was a whisper. Quickly, she moved her eyes back up to his, enjoying the look of hunger in his eyes. I knew he’d like these, she smiled. “These” were a black lace thong—partner to the bra she’d already removed—and it was possibly the tiniest piece of underwear she owned. With barely enough of a triangle to cover the darker blond curls of her pussy, two pieces of ribbon wrapped around her hips—one on either side—and reconnected just above the crack of her ass, accentuating the muscular plumpness of her cheeks.

“Turn around,” he said, smiling bigger now that he could tell she too was enjoying the game.

Buffy turned her back to him, only to be greeted by an eerie silence. This is one of those moments when it matters that he doesn’t breathe, she thought, waiting.

Spike was happy he didn’t breathe because looking at her, he was pretty sure he would have lost the ability to do so. Her skin was flawless and golden with a touch of pink as blood rose to the surface, flushing her skin. Spike was baffled by how she seemed to glow—an iridescent light radiating out of her, advertising the life within. “Take off your shirt.”

Buffy noticed that the “show and tell” theme had been abandoned as Spike opted for a more direct route. Stifling the urge to say, “Yes sir,” she unbuttoned her blouse and then shrugged it off, keeping her back Spike. She was starting to get cold standing there. Her nipples were hard and goose bumps started to creep across her skin.

When she heard the words, “Turn around,” Buffy knew Spike had moved. The words sounded as if he were inches away and her skin prickled at the thought. Turning slowly, she only made it half way around before Spike’s hands were on her, lifting her in the air as he carried her back to the bed so that she could sit in his lap, facing him, straddling his body. Spike’s cock fit perfectly beneath her, the skimpy underwear she was wearing advertising her arousal by being soaked through.

They tilted their heads so that their foreheads were touching, allowing them to look into each other’s eyes. “Wasn’t that fun, bit?” Spike asked, his voice a growl that reverberated in her chest.

“Haven’t you forgotten something,” Buffy asked, looking at him mischievously, before glancing down at the thin piece of fabric that separated them. Hooking one strap with her thumb, Buffy looked back up at him, questioningly.

In a second Spike flipped them so that she was lying on her back, the vamp between her legs as he quickly slid off the offending lace. Throwing them to the side, Spike twisted again to face her, locking eyes as he lifted first one, and then the other of her ankles and placed them on his shoulders. Slowly, he stepped forward, tickling the slick opening of her pussy with the head of his cock. Buffy gripped the bed in anticipation but he didn’t move. He just continued staring at her, running his cock up and down her slit, lightly brushing over her clit on each pass and making her gasp.

Enough is enough, Buffy thought, arching her back in frustration as her body called out to her, sending spikes of pleasure and need through her frame. Forcing herself to focus, she looked at him, trying to catch her breath. “Spike,” she managed, gaining forcefulness as she continued. “Please. Just,” one last gasp, “Fuck me.” The words were barely out of her mouth before he’d slammed into her, forcing his cock all the way in with one swift motion. She almost screamed, but bit her lip instead, drawing blood that tasted sweet on her tongue.

With her legs between them, he was too far away to touch, so Buffy began kneading her own breasts, running her hands down to meet his where he held her hips. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, Spike suddenly pulled out almost all the way, allowing the tip of his cock to rest at her opening, only to slam back in again with the help of her muscles pulling him. This time there was no wait before he pulled out again and Spike began what seemed to Buffy an impossibly fast rhythm, causing her whole body to quake as her orgasm started in her stomach and began to pulsate through the rest of her body, making her groan and mew as she reached for Spike, but could not reach anything but his hands.

Spike watched her as orgasm after orgasm rolled through her body with almost no gap. He was quiet, amazed by what her body was doing to him—making it harder and harder to pull out each time as her muscles tried to keep him in. He’d been prepared for her stamina, for her flexibility, but not for this—not for the muscles he’d swear he’d never felt before, tugging at him, tickling the head of his cock when he buried it deep inside her.

He was amazed he’d lasted this long, considering he’d almost lost it when she dropped her jeans and revealed what was officially his new favorite piece of her clothing. Heat poured off her in waves, infusing him with warmth and lending a glow to his skin that made him almost forget that it wasn’t alive. He knew he was holding her hips so tightly that there’d be marks the next day, but he didn’t care. Anchoring himself against the pull of her internal muscles was requiring more strength than he could have imagined and watching her…well, watching her was a reward in itself. She’d surrendered to her body, lost in the sensations he was creating deep within her. In between the low moans and soft cries she made as he pounded into her, all she could manage was, “Spike. God. Please. Spike. Fuck. Please. Feels so good. Don’t stop. Don’t. Ever. Stop. Spike. Please.”

He’d been surprised when she’d started massaging her own breasts, but encouraged it, even going so far as to remove one hand from her hip so he could guide her fingers to her clit, pressing her finger down on it before returning his hand to the notch above her hip bone. Her fingers hadn’t left the spot since and Spike was left with a view that made him marvel at his luck. Watching Buffy touch herself while I’m inside her—too good to be true, he thought as he watched her breasts bounce to the rhythm he’d created.

When he began to feel the tightening in his balls for the umpteenth time Spike decided not to fight it. Slowly lowering first one of her feet than the other, so that they wrapped around his hips, her ankles locking at his lower back, Spike began to inch Buffy back, farther into the bed. Maintaining his rhythm, he pushed her until they were both firmly on the bed, and she could unwrap her legs as Spike’s body pressed down on her firmly. They were lying sideways on the bed, and their feet stuck off the edge, but their faces were inches apart and Buffy’s hands were flying up and down his back, scratching him, kneading him, slowly traveling to his ass, which she used to guide his thrusts. Her orgasms continued as she squirmed beneath him, lifting her head to kiss him, only to break away as she began gasping for breath.

Spike waited until Buffy began writhing again before finally giving in to the pull of her body. Releasing inside of her, Spike’s own body began to shake as he crushed his lips against hers and their simultaneous orgasms rocked their bodies, making them both shudder within the kiss. They kept kissing as their muscles slowed and relaxed. Spike traced the line of her jaw with his finger, as his other hand linked with hers above her head. Her other hand was clamped to the back of his head, ruffling the curls as their bodies began to quiver with exhaustion.

Spike rolled off of her, breaking the seal of their lips and leaving Buffy gasping as the sweat on both their bodies began to cool. Drained, Spike quickly stood up on his shaking legs and pulled back the covers, helping Buffy climb under them before sliding in himself. They collapsed against each other, their bodies entwined and their lips inches apart as if prepared for another kiss. They were both asleep before either could say anything. Their bodies had communicated enough.

*************************************

Riley knew he shouldn’t be watching. Knew that what he was doing bordered on the sick and definitely crossed the line into the land of ‘not normal,’ but he couldn’t rip himself away. He’d walked in from a day of fighting vamps just as Buffy’s strip tease had begun and while several feet separated her and Spike, he’d almost allowed himself to imagine that he was the one giving the orders. That was until he’d seen Buffy’s underwear.

Where did she get those? he’d wondered. More importantly, When? She’d certainly never worn anything like that around him. Sure, her underwear had always been sexy—lots of satin and lace, even a couple thongs, but all of them with the cute undertones that he associated with Buffy—a pink bow just enough to suggest the innocence he cherished. Staring at Buffy in that thong, however, had stunned him. Gone were the pink bows. Gone the innocence—or at least the innocence she’d shone with him. This Buffy was a completely different person—this Buffy was looking at Spike, looking at Spike’s penis, like they were all she’d ever wanted. Some of it was the same. Riley could see her smile, could tell she was still being playful, but the desire—the hunger—that pooled in her eyes was something he’d never seen before.

He’d watched the rest of the encounter with growing anger, resenting the mastery Spike showed with Buffy’s body—the ownership his easy touch suggested. And then had come Buffy’s endless orgasm—or multiple orgasms, he wasn’t sure. Watching her reach for Spike and then claw at her own skin when she couldn’t quite reach him; watching him guide her hand down and watching in disbelief as she kept it there, her eyes locked with Spike’s until the two had finally finished. Now he was watching their sleeping forms, curled around each other.

He could barely see straight as flashes of Buffy arching her back beneath Spike alternated with the calm face beneath him he remembered from their own sexual encounters. Riley had thought that he and Buffy connected physically. He’d certainly always been able to make her come, usually more than once, but watching her with Spike tonight, Riley felt as if his own inadequacies were being highlighted and put on display. It’s not my fault, he thought as he left the Initiative’s current headquarters and began walking down the street. It’s because I’m human. No human could have done what Spike just did…except, Buffy’s human… His thoughts were repeats from the last time he’d seen them together—but angrier. Spike’s taking advantage of her. Her mother just died and she was lonely—yes, she must have been lonely after I left—so he’s taking advantage of her. Like he always has. Like he always will, because he’s a VAMPIRE—an evil, soulless vampire and even if Buffy can’t see it, she shouldn’t be with him…

****************


The door was unlocked when Riley arrived—not unusual in the Summers’ home, where people came and went at all times of night. He’d suggested that Joyce lock it once and she’d laughed at him—reminding him of Buffy’s penchant to forget or lose her keys.

“It’s easier if it’s open—besides vamps can’t get in unless they’re invited; lock or no lock, and in this house, that’s our primary worry. I don’t want Buffy standing on the porch trying to get her key in the door if any vampires are after her.”

Standing at the bottom of the stairs Riley listened closely, anxious that someone might be awake. He knew Dawn liked late night cereal, but it was almost 4 in the morning—too late for snacking and too early for breakfast. He shut the door softly and began to climb the stairs—wary of the creak he knew the third step would make. He carried a crossbow in his hands, loaded. He’d tucked a stake into his belt as a back up, but he wasn’t planning on missing.

He reached the door to her room—their room—and stopped. Getting the door open without waking either one of them—both equipped with super hearing—would be hard. Better just to open it fast, try to surprise them. Riley braced the cross bow against his chest, aiming it in the direction he knew the bed would be when he opened the door. Taking a deep breath he quickly turned the knob and swung the door open, stepping into the room immediately.

Neither one of them woke up. They’d shifted in their sleep since he’d last seen them and it quickly became apparent to him that it would be impossible to get a clean shot at Spike without getting Buffy to move first. Her head was resting almost directly over the vamp’s nonbeating heart and her arm draped across the rest of his chest, encircling his waist. Spike’s body was twisted slightly towards hers, one hand in her hair, the other around her waist.

He stood at the foot of the bed, thinking. If I stand in the right place, I should be able to get a shot off when they first wake up. Slowly, he began to walk around the bed, but suddenly Buffy shifted slightly, mewing and scrunching her face like kid before slowly opening her eyes. It took her several seconds to register on Riley, but when she did she stiffened, clutching the vamp’s body tighter as she stared at him. Damn it. Riley had hoped the surprise would jolt her up, giving him a clean shot. Now he was going to have to try and convince her.

Her eyes locked on Riley, Buffy pinched Spike’s skin, trying to rouse him. Slowly, he became aware of her tension, her increased heart rate and her short, fast breaths. Unwilling to open his eyes, Spike simply shifted a little, reaching out both his arms to pull her closer. She resisted, pinching him a second time, forcing him awake. As soon as he saw Riley, Spike was wide awake, wanting to kick himself. He should have smelled soldier boy a mile away. Letting my guard down, that’s what, he thought, maintaining his protective grip on Buffy. He squeezed her arm to let her know she was awake. What’s the bastard think he’s gonna do with that crossbow?

Buffy tried to keep her voice calm, grateful that Spike seemed to understand that she shouldn’t move, “What are you doing here?” she said softly, hoping desperately that they could get through this without waking Dawn up. Too much to explain if that happened.

“Helping you,” Riley said simply, as if she’d understand him.

“Helping me how?” she asked, keeping her voice level and resisting the urge to yell at him for his stupidity.

“By making a choice you can’t make,” Riley said, his eyes resting coldly on Spike.

“And what choice is that?” Buffy responded, her irritation leaking into her voice.

“Think that’s pretty obvious, Buffy,” Riley said, still focusing on Spike. “Now, all you have to do is move, and I’ll—”

“Seems to me that she’s already made a choice, mate,” Spike said, his voice low and dangerous.

This can’t be happening, Buffy thought, her mind racing.

“Shut up, Spike,” Riley’s voice was louder now, in danger of waking Dawn. He took a step forward, his finger twitching over the crossbow’s release.

Buffy squeezed Spike again, hoping to communicate her own desire that he remain silent. It seemed unlikely Spike would be able to help with the situation at hand. Watching Riley, she could see the slight tremor in his hand, the anger in his eyes.

“You were watching us,” she said, her words a statement, not a question.

Riley’s eyes glanced at her quickly, anxiously. “It’s my job,” he said, making no attempt to deny what she said.

“Really?” Buffy’s voice dripped sarcasm, but she remained firmly planted between him and Spike’s heart. “Your job is to watch couple’s most intimate moments? I didn’t know the government was interested in researching vampire stamina.”

Riley’s jaw tensed when she said ‘stamina,’ and he wondered if she was openly criticizing him. “Whatever Buffy. It doesn’t matter why I’m here. What matters is what I’m here to do. Now move.”

“Or you’ll what?” Buffy’s anger was obvious now, making her more bold. Watching him she slowly shifted, using her body as a blocker until she was between Spike’s legs, lying against him with her back against his chest. Spike’s arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly against him as he softly kissed her neck. The sheet had fallen away during her maneuvering and Buffy’s breasts were exposed, but she didn’t care.

After Riley failed to respond for several minutes, Buffy’s glare softened into a fake smile, as she tried to keep her words pleasant. “I think you should go, Riley. You’ll regret this in the morning. I know you will—and you’re on your own cameras. Lewis won’t like this independent streak you’ve just revealed.”

“No,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “I won’t go until he’s dead.”

“Then you’ll have to kill me too, because I’m not moving,” Buffy responded, her voice equally hushed.

Riley’s face blanched as he focused on her more closely. “Why, Buffy? Why? I just don’t understand. You—him, it doesn’t make sense…”

“Yes it does,” Buffy said, surprising even herself with the quickness of her answer. Spike’s rhythm against her neck faltered as he listened. “It makes perfect sense,” she continued, going with impulse. “You were right, Riley, when you said I wasn’t letting you in. I wasn’t. I couldn’t. I knew you couldn’t deal with all I have inside me. Being the slayer—you still don’t get it—don’t get what it means about me—how difficult it is to separate myself from my destiny.”

“You didn’t give me a chance—” Riley interjected, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes I did,” Buffy said evenly. “You can keep telling yourself that I didn’t, but I did. You just couldn’t see it because it wasn’t how you wanted it. You’d convinced yourself that I was something other than the slayer on the inside. But I’m not. I’m other things too, but being the slayer is part of me, on every level. Everything I do, everything I say, part of that is the slayer—and you didn’t want that part. You just wanted to get the easy, normal Buffy parts, and you tried to make me feel guilty when I couldn’t get rid of it—couldn’t squelch her.” Buffy’s voice was thick with tears as she looked at him, and Spike’s arms tightened around her, giving her strength.

Riley seemed unable to move. He hadn’t been prepared for this. This was about Spike. Buffy and Spike. He wasn’t prepared to talk about himself.

Buffy couldn’t stop. “You were so upset that I didn’t come crying to you after my mom got sick. That I didn’t give in to the fear and let you take care of me. Let you protect me. Well, did you ever think that maybe I didn’t do that because I can’t? Because I can’t switch the slayer off—can’t tell it, hey, sorry, I need five minutes to be vulnerable so that my boyfriend can feel sufficiently needed.” Buffy let out a hoarse laugh of exasperation. “And what’s stupid is that I did need you. I needed you to believe that I was strong—that I could handle it—not get angry when it turned out I could. And then you left. You got so angry because I wouldn’t depend on you, and then you left.” Her voice was bitter and she was actually crying now, leaning back against Spike in an attempt to burrow into him. “You left.”

“Buffy, I—” Riley was at a loss for words as he looked at her weeping form. “I…it’s just…you shouldn’t be with him. You deserve better than him. You deserve better than either of us—I get that…”

“Get out,” Buffy’s words were raw with rage as she glared at him, furious that he’d been able to get to her this much—furious that he’d hurt her again. “I don’t give a damn about what you think, Riley. You have no right to judge me because it is glaringly obvious that you will never be able to understand. Now, get out before Dawn wakes up. She doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t need you to upset her life anymore than it has been. Just leave.”

Faltering, Riley stared at her for a minute, debating what to do. Then, slowly, he lowered the crossbow and left.

Buffy waited until she heard the soft click of the front door as it shut before turning to Spike and burying her face in his chest. Spike didn’t say anything. He just held her, rocking her back and forth as her crying quieted and she slowly fell asleep in his arms. “It’s ok, pet,” he said, once her breathing had finally slipped into its usual, quiet rhythm. “I don’t think he’ll be coming back.”

****************

When Buffy opened her eyes the next morning she knew immediately that it was much later than she’d planned to wake up. The sun streaming in the window looked like late morning, possibly even early afternoon. She sat up in bed and looked at the clock. 11:20. Shit. She was supposed to be at the Magic Box doing research hours ago.

Looking down at herself, she realized that she was wearing Spike’s shirt and nothing else. He must have put it on, she thought, as the memories of the night before came flooding back. The Bronze. The amazing sex. Riley. Panic began to well in her stomach. Where is Spike? “Spike!” she yelled, her voice harsher than she’d intended. Slowly, she stood up and walked over to her dresser. She was slipping on a new pair of underwear when his blonde head poked through the door.

“You’re up,” he said unnecessarily as he pushed the door open and came in. “I was starting to think you’d sleep the day away pet. Didn’t realize I’d tired you out so much—”

He stopped as soon as Buffy turned her face to him, the pain on her face hurting him almost physically. Quickly, he scooped her up, gathering her in his arms as he sat down on the chest at the foot of the bed. He buried his face in her neck, kissing it softly and running his hands through her hair. “It’s ok, pet. It’s ok.”

Buffy didn’t say anything for several minutes. She just allowed herself to be comforted, nuzzling her face into Spike’s shoulder, basking in his smell. After a while the panic that had gripped her stomach started to ease and she pulled away so that she could look at him. Slowly, deliberately, trying to be sure that he knew she meant it, she put her hand up to his face, cupping it and said, “Thank you.”

Spike immediately lowered his eyes, unsure he could meet hers when they were so expressive—so filled with sorrow. “I didn’t do anything. It was you, Buffy. You saved my life. You stopped—”

“Shh,” a small smile began to appear on Buffy’s lips as she caressed his face. “And the only reason I was able to do that was you,” she said kissing him softly on the cheek and lifting his chin so that he would look at her. “All you Spike. You finally helped me figure it out.”

Spike was almost overwhelmed by the way she looked at him, the way she seemed to really see him—finally, after all these months. “I love you Buffy,” he said before he could think, his eyes widening as he realized what he’d done. He half expected her to jerk away, to climb out of his arms and demand that he leave, but she didn’t. She kept looking into his eyes and tracing the line of his cheekbone with her finger, the other hand wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

“I know,” she said, leaning in to kiss him softly on the mouth. “That’s what I’m thanking you for.”

Spike sighed slowly, knowing that the air did him no good but appreciating the message of relaxation the act sent to his body. “No need to be thanking me. It’s not like I had a choice in the matter. I couldn’t not love you if I wanted to. Trust me. I tried,” he said, a small grin playing over his face.

“I know you did,” Buffy said, her finger sliding down to trace his lips. “But now…,” she looked at him and began to snuggle closer, “now, I don’t want you to stop.” Spike’s eyes widened, taking in the implications of what she’d said. Buffy maintained their locked gaze, assuring him that she meant what she said. Mean more than that, she thought. Just can’t say it yet. I’m never very good at the out loud parts. Smiling, Buffy kissed Spike slowly, allowing the kiss to deepen as if of its own accord.

When they broke away, Spike could tell that Buffy was done, ready to change the subject. “Bet you’re wondering why Giles isn’t over here right now yelling at you for being late, huh?”

Buffy giggled and nodded. She was still nestled in his arms and didn’t want to move yet. “I was surprised at how late it was when I woke up. Oh, and where’s Dawn?”

“Well, I thought you needed to sleep, so I let you stay in bed and I helped get Dawn off to school. Made her pancakes again. She didn’t hear anything last night, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just told her you needed the shuteye. That’s the nice thing about teenagers. They never think it’s odd when someone needs to sleep for twelve hours,” Spike smirked and lifted his hand to brush her hair out of her face.

“And Giles?” Buffy’s tone was mildly nervous.

“Well,” Spike looked at her, “I called him right after Dawn left and told him we wouldn’t be there for a while. That you needed some more rest.”

“And he didn’t ask why?” Buffy looked at Spike disbelievingly.

“He did,” Spike said and then continued before she could ask another question. “I told him the truth. Riley came over. He tried to kill me. You stopped him and you two had a big fight.” Spike looked at her anxiously. “Giles still wanted you to come, but I told him to put a sock in it and wait till you were feeling better. ‘Said you wouldn’t be much good at the research if you couldn’t keep your eyes open.” Spike looked at Buffy nervously, hoping she’d approve of his handling of the situation.

He was answered with a swift and very tight hug. “Thank you!” Buffy said, beaming. “Giles never believes it when I tell him I need more sleep. He just mutters things like “part and parcel of being the slayer” as if I’m supposed to be happy the powers that be feel I need no sleep.”

Spike relaxed as her cheerfulness continued, fighting the urge to kiss her as she began to babble about Giles’ ridiculous demands on her “sleeptime.”

“What do you say to getting you some breakfast, pet?” Spike asked, standing up and placing Buffy carefully back on the floor. “I say we go out. I haven’t been to a breakfast joint during the day on this side of the twentieth century.”

Buffy answered him with a wide smile and headed straight for her closet.

*****************************

At the Magic Box, Giles was worried. He was wishing that Spike had let him talk to Buffy. Giles did not like having Spike as a mediator between him and his slayer. Besides, Buffy allowed her emotions to conflict with her duties much too frequently. I really must talk to her about that. It’s time she learned to compartmentalize. The rest of the group was there, reading away, with the exception of Willow who was working on a spell to find a spell—an idea that might save them some time. They had all accepted Spike’s explanation about Riley at face value and seemed undisturbed that Buffy hadn’t come in yet. Giles, however, couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was going on. Spike had sounded so…protective, allowing the irritation to show in his voice when Giles had insisted Buffy come in despite everything. This is what comes of Buffy encouraging him, allowing him to spend time with her. He sees it as acceptance and now he thinks he as the right to be protective of her. Not. Bloody. Likely. Giles brought his fist down suddenly on the table, surprising the others.

“Sorry,” Giles looked flustered and reached up to clean his glasses, “I was just—”

“Thinking about Spike and Buffy?” Xander offered, nodding. “I know the feeling. I for one think they’re taking this charade a little too far—a lot too far, even. It’s just creepy.”

Giles narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, charade?” he said, pronouncing the word like a Brit and emphasizing it as if to correct Xander.

“Charayde, Charaaaad, whatever,” Xander said. “I just don’t like it.”

Again, Giles narrowed his eyes and looked at the boy in frustration. “What, pray tell, are you talking about?”

Anya eyed Giles perplexedly, “Well, you know. The whole pretending-to-be-a-couple thing. Buffy and Spike seem to be going a bit above and beyond to convince the Intiative—”

“What are you talking about?” Giles demanded, his voice dangerously low.

“Didn’t Buffy tell you?” Willow asked, her eyebrows raised in worry. “I thought Buffy had told you. Wouldn’t Buffy have told him?” Willow turned questioningly to Tara.

“I—I would have thought so,” she responded, turning back to Giles.

“Told me what?!” Giles was losing his patience.

“Well, you see Giles,” Xander was afraid to look at the now angry librarian, “when Riley and Colonel Lewis first came to Buffy’s house, Dawn took it upon herself to say that Spike was Buffy’s new boyfriend. The whole exchange kind of left Buffy with no way to deny it, so she and Spike have been trying to look the part while we know the Initiative’s watching them.” Xander raised his eyes to looking at he older man’s. Giles’ face was dark.

“Yeah, um…” Willow was afraid of what Giles’ reaction would be, “Dawn even let it slip last night that Buffy and Spike are sleeping in the same room. Which would mean that when Riley came over last night…” Willow swallowed. “Buffy and Spike were probably in bed together—hence the extreme upset.”

“Why didn’t any of you tell me this sooner?” Giles said, trying to keep his voice calm.

“We assumed you knew, and they’d been acting so differently we figured there was no way you couldn’t know, otherwise you’d be asking a bunch of questions,” Tara answered, biting her lip when she realized that she was suggesting Giles had missed something.

The watcher sighed and let his shoulders deflate. “You’re right. And I had noticed, it’s just…Why wouldn’t she tell me this?”

“She probably didn’t want you to have to think about it. She knows how much you hate Spike and how much it bothers you that we kind of need him for this whole Glory thing,” Willow offered. “She was probably just protecting you. Or, she just forgot and then assumed you knew when you didn’t question their behavior.”

“At least you know now,” Anya offered brightly. “And you didn’t have to see them making out at the Bro—”

“Anya!” Xander and Willow said her name in unison.

“What?” Her voice was defensive. “I’m just trying show him that it could be worse. You know, find a bright side. You said that was good to do, Xander,” she said, looking at him questioningly.

“And it is Ahn, but not usually when the only way to make something look brighter is to acknowledge that worse things have happened, especially when that ‘worse thing’ is very specific and very easily imaginable thanks to Willow’s spell.”

Giles set his jaw. This was not good. It would have been bad enough if Spike didn’t already like her, and with Riley suddenly reappearing, Giles knew Buffy was hurting. Please, just don’t let her start depending on Spike.

***************************

Thanks for everyone's feedback, and please keep it coming! It helps me decide what to do next and all, and it keeps me motivated. I've got the next few chapters basically worked out, but the plot is getting more complicated so it's hard to keep it all organized. I'll try to keep being quick with everything though, as long as all of you keep up your end of the bargain.:)


As they exited IHOP, Buffy’s stomach made a contented gurgle. Approaching the Desoto she turned to Spike. “That was great. Thanks. I can always count on you for a good breakfast. Though, if I were honest,” she smiled softly at him, “I’d have to admit that their pancakes aren’t as good as yours.”

Spike chuckled. “What were you and Dawn eating before I showed up, huh? Please don’t tell me that you were subsisting solely on cocoa-krispies. Because that’s just sad.”

Buffy smiled at him as she relaxed in her seat. “We were managing—lots of take out, and sometimes Giles would cook.”

Spike nodded as he pulled out of the IHOP parking lot and headed towards the Magic Box. The two sat in companionable silence, his hand resting lightly on top of hers—moving only to shift gears. We almost feel like a real couple, Buffy thought, squeezing Spike’s hand slightly. What the hell am I doing?

*****************************

Giles tried not to look when Spike and Buffy arrived holding hands as they walked into the Magic Box. At least I know she wasn’t intentionally hiding it, he thought, trying to focus on the book he was reading.

“Hey guys,” Buffy said, her voice surprisingly cheerful given what they all knew about the night she’d just had.

“How are you, Buff?” Willow asked, her voice concerned.

Buffy grimaced as she realized they all knew what had happened and Spike squeezed her hand softly before letting it go and heading towards his spot against the wall. “Well, creeped out mostly,” the slayer managed. “Oh, and also certain that it’s absolutely impossible for me to like someone normal—because even when they start out normal, they end up being stalkerish government agents who try to control my life.” Buffy tried to keep her voice lighthearted, but there was a hitch in it and she kept her eyes downcast.

“Sorry, Buffy,” Xander said, eyeing Spike nervously. “Though, to be honest, I’m still a little surprised. That just doesn’t seem like Riley. I mean, he was so in love with you—”

“No! He wasn’t.” Buffy cut Xander off, her eyes flashing.

“Um…ok. Whatever you say, Buffy. I was just—”

“No, you don’t understand.” Buffy’s voice strangled a bit in her throat as she tried to make herself clear. Her fists clenched as her frustration mounted. “Riley thought he was in love with me,” she paused, summoning the courage to finish what she’d started. “The problem was that the me he was in love with doesn’t exist. It was a figment of Riley’s imagination—a figment of mine too, for a while,” Buffy said as her voice softened with sadness. Spike was watching her closely, unclear as to how he should read her tone. “Anyway, now he’s just mad because he’s finally seeing the real me he was so anxious to get to know.”

“Buffy,” Giles’ voice was gentle. “I don’t think you can blame yourself for this. I don’t think you should. Relationships end and—”

“I don’t blame myself,” Buffy said, turning to face her watcher. “Well, not exactly anyway. I blame reality…I blame the fact that I can’t separate myself from the slayer. That I can’t switch back and forth they way he wanted. The way I wanted. It was foolish of me to think I could have a normal relationship. I’m not normal, and I should stop trying to be.” Her voice had strengthened as she finished her thoughts. Buffy could feel Spike’s eyes on her and she turned to give him a small smile. “Doing that didn’t make me happy.” And Spike does, she suddenly realized as she finally admitted to herself what, exactly, her newfound sense of calm meant and who was responsible for it.

“Is that why you’re sleeping with Spike? Because he makes you happy?” Anya asked, her voice cracking the room’s atmosphere. “Or is it because you can’t be happy at all? I’m confused.”

Buffy whirled around to look at Anya. “What?” she tried to keep the edge of panic out of her voice as she looked at the others, expecting them to be equally flabbergasted. When she realized they weren’t, that they were all staring at her expectantly, she looked at Spike—terror hovering in her eyes.

Spike looked at her intently. Do what you need to do, pet. I’ll love you all the same. His skin twitched as he watched her, trying to prepare himself for her rejection, trying to prepare himself for going back to the way things were before.

“How did you…?” Buffy’s voice was small. She couldn’t look at Giles, so she focused her pained expression on Willow. You can’t deny this, she thought, chastising herself for even thinking about it. Spike deserves better than that. Spike loves you. He deserves someone…someone who…, she forced herself to complete the thought, someone who loves him back. Her eyes began to well with tears as she waited for Willow’s response, understanding for the first time how much the last few days had meant to her. How desperately she wanted her friends to be ok with what was happening. Now that I know what it’s like, being with Spike, I’m not sure I can give it up, she thought, her eyes widening as she recognized just how attached she really was to the vamp.

Spike couldn’t stand how upset she looked and he was too insecure about her feelings to be able read her properly. This is your fault, you wanker. You took advantage of her and now her friends are going to make sure she hates you and never—

“It’s ok Buffy,” Willow smiled wanly, trying to ignore the audible snort of disapproval that came from Giles. “It wasn’t really that hard to figure out. Tara and I have actually suspected something for a couple of days and then…well, Dawn kind of told us that you guys were sleeping together in—at the very least—the non-euphemistic sense…and, and,” Willow looked at Tara nervously, unable to tell what effect her words were having on Buffy. “Well, last night at the Bronze. It was pretty obvious that you two weren’t…acting.”

“Oh,” Buffy responded, her voice barely audible. “I guess I kind of knew that, but…None of you said anything…why?” She was still too nervous to look at Spike. She wasn’t ready to know how he was taking this. She just hoped he could hear what was behind her words. I’m doing this because I need you…because I love you.
.
“What exactly do you expect us to say, Buffy?” Giles’ voice was quiet, dripping with disappointment. “Congratulations? Because I don’t believe you honestly expected we’d—I’d—be ok with this—on any level. I understand that you’re confused, and that maybe I’ve underestimated how much you’re hurting because of Riley and your mother, but—”

“This is not about either of them!” Buffy shouted, her nervousness dissolving in anger as she glared at him. “The fact that you would even suggest that,” Buffy’s eyes narrowed, “makes me think you don’t understand me any better than Riley did.”

“And Spike does?” Xander’s voice was cold, the anger bubbling below the surface audible in his tone. “Because, frankly Buffy, I’m a little surprised at how stupid you’re being. Not to mention selfish—”

“Oh sod off! The whole lot of you can just bloody well sod off,” Spike exploded, his eyes flashing yellow. Buffy turned to him in surprise, tilting her head at him warily. “The fact that any of you think you have the right—” Spike’s voice caught as he gestured towards Buffy. He swallowed hard and looked at her, his face softening as he saw the pain written plainly across her face. He hoped he wasn’t making this worse. I’m just trying to help, pet, he thought, But I can’t listen to them do this to you. I just can’t. Calmer, his voice lower this time, he started again: “The fact that any of you, who claim to care about her, who claim to love her, think that loving her gives you the right to say things like that to her,” he glared at Xander and then Giles, “to treat her like she’s your bloody possession, as if she needs your permission to do anything, as if being in her presence isn’t a gift, isn’t the thing in your life that gives you a sense of purpose…well, then” Spike took a deep breath, “you don’t deserve to love her. Because me,” Spike paused again, looking at Buffy earnestly, “I’m just a vamp. An evil, soulless vamp, who should be dust at her feet—literally—but I would never dream of thinking that she owed me something—anything.” Spike closed the distance between them, cupping her face in his hand and looking into her eyes, addressing her directly, almost forgetting there were other people in the room, his need to make her stop crying was so overwhelming. “I’m just lucky I got the chance to help you, the chance to know you…” his voice faded as he watched tears pour silently from her eyes.

“Thank you, Spike,” Buffy said, her voice shaky but clear as she held Spike’s gaze. He is absolutely amazing, she thought. “I love you too,” she said, smiling at him through her tears. Slowly, Buffy took his hand in hers, watching the surprise register on his face. The hope in his eyes made her ache because it made her realize how much he cared. “Let’s go.”

The couple turned to the door and began to walk away as the Magic Box remained engulfed in silence—Giles and the scoobies remained speechless, taken aback by the intensity of Spike’s proclamation, and unable to take in what Buffy had just said.

Buffy and Spike were too focused on each other to notice the pair standing in the doorway until they practically tripped on them.

“You’ve always had a penchant for sweeping romantic gestures, haven’t you Spike?” Drusilla’s voice shattered the silence as she stepped towards the shocked pair of blondes. “It must be the poet in you,” she said, laughing lightly, enjoying the fear in their eyes.

Buffy and Spike exchanged glances as they slowly backed up, their hands still clutching each other.

“Ohhh…Spike,” Drusilla’s voice dropped, her lips pouting and her tone assuming a motherly tone, as if she were speaking to a baby, or a doll. “If only your affections were better directed.” She made a small clucking sound with her tongue as she slowly took a step forward and looked at Buffy in disgust. “She’s so…human,” the brunette said, furrowing her brow. “It’s such a waste of my Spikey, my William.” Her voice had lowered to a whisper. “You were meant for bigger things than this, Spike. I can feel it. I could feel it when I first saw you…when I sired you.”

Buffy flinched, the anger she felt towards the female vamp and the possessive way she was looking at Spike consumed her. Spike tried to squeeze her hand reassuringly, but Dru’s taunts were quickly followed by something possibly worse.

“Yeah, and I, um, I think you’re too good for the slayer too, Spike. What happened to my blondie bear, my big bad?” Harmony said, trying to sound as menacing as Dru, which was virtually impossible since she was hiding behind the brunette, her eyes moving back and forth between Buffy and the scoobies behind her.

Buffy and Drusilla both turned to stare at Harmony and then at Spike. “Blondie bear?!” they said in unison, unable to hide the disbelief in their eyes.

“Oh, jeez—damn it Harm!” Spike looked at her, fury blazing in his eyes as he thanked the god of small blessings that he couldn’t blush, though he couldn’t stop his cheek muscles from clenching in frustration. Turning to Buffy, he said, “Now’s not the time, luv.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Buffy and all the scoobies were looking at him with laughter in their eyes and Buffy’s smile teased him as it lit up her face. “Whatever you say Spike. Just promise me you’ll never try to say I’m the one who domesticated you, ok?”

Spike rolled his eyes, and looked at her, “Buffy, now—”

While the others were distracted, Drusilla took stock of people in the room around her. There were too many of them to fight, especially since Harmony would inevitably require help. Dru inwardly rolled her eyes at the necessity to keep Harmony alive until the ritual was done. If only Angelus had been willing to play…she mourned. Then, without further ceremony Drusilla reached out and grabbed Spike firmly around the neck, pulling him to her.

Before Buffy could react, the three vamps disappeared in a cloud of smoke, just as Drusilla and Harmony had the night before.

Buffy stood in the cloud of smoke, first gaping and then sneezing as she realized Spike was gone and tried not to panic. Turning to face the people behind her, she looked at them anxiously. “What the hell just happened?” she asked, her voice shaky with anger and fear.

The scoobies stared at her as the smoke began to slowly waft through the room.

“Well, I g-guess you don’t need to describe Harmony and Drusilla’s disappearing act to Giles anymore…” Tara offered, her hand squeezing Willow’s arm as she looked at Buffy with worry in her eyes.

Buffy managed a harsh, stiff laugh before turning her eyes—which were now starting to well with tears—to Giles. “I guess not.”

Buffy looked at her watcher and waited. She was prepared to go and look for Spike on her own—to try to figure it all out on her own. After all, most slayers didn’t have friends to help them, and they managed. Until they died.

Clearing his throat, Giles smiled weakly at Tara, thankful for the witch’s attempt to break the standoff. “Buffy—”

“Will you help me find him?” Buffy interrupted him, her voice hard as she glared at him. It wasn’t a request. It was a question of fact.

Giles opened his mouth and no sound came out. Slowly he removed his glasses and started cleaning them, unable to look at Buffy because he didn’t want to admit what the pain in his charge’s face meant.

“Of course we will,” Willow said, stepping forward. Then, looking at Giles, she amended quietly, “Or I will.” The redhead looked at Buffy, as the blond continued to stare at her watcher. “And Tara will help too,” Willow added, squeezing her girlfriend’s hand.

“Me too!” Anya said, stepping forward. “I’ll help too. I don’t care who you date, Buffy, and since you’ve saved Xander so many times, it only seems fair I help you save Spike. At least it’s not Riley. I really didn’t like Riley. He was too—”

“Ahn!” Xander interrupted her, staring at her in disbelief. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What you don’t seem to be capable of,” Anya said, calmly, cocking her head at her boyfriend. “Accepting Buffy’s decision. It’s not like it’s not an uninformed one. I’d say that if anyone is aware of the dangers and complications of dating a vampire, it’s Buffy. Wouldn’t you?”

The four women stared at Xander and Giles as Buffy’s anger spread through the room, daring the men to resist her. Neither of them said anything and finally, her voice heavy with disappointment, Buffy said, “It looks like it’s just us girls on this one. Let’s go back to my house. We can pick Dawn up on the way. I know she’ll want to help. She loves Spike too.”

“Ohhh. Just us girls,” Willow said, smiling at Tara. “Wouldn’t the wicca group be proud of us now?” The witches laughed softly as the group of women exited the Magic Box.

****************
Xander and Giles remained frozen in place for several minutes after the girls’ exit. Giles had never put his glasses back on and he was still staring at the floor. Finally, Xander broke the silence by angrily throwing a book at the wall and screaming “Damn it!” Panting, he looked at Giles. “What am I missing here? This is Spike. Spike who tries to kill us. Spike who is the bane of our existence. Spike who—”

“Spike who has convinced Buffy that she loves him,” Giles said, his voice heavy as he slowly replaced his glasses.

“Do you think he cast a spell?” Xander asked, his voice hopeful. “You know, one that only effects women. Like my love spell with Cordy? Only not so…extreme.”

“I highly doubt it,” Giles said. “Regardless of our opinion of the matter, Buffy and the rest just behaved far too rationally to be under a spell. I’m afraid Spike actually has them convinced that he cares for her. And that speech of his—well, even I can admit to hearing eloquence in it.”

Xander walked up to Giles, looking him in the eye. “Frankly, I don’t care if he does care for her. He’s a vampire. An evil, undead demon and he doesn’t even have a soul. There’s no way he and Buffy can be together. She deserves better than that.”

Giles met the young man’s gaze, nodding slowly in agreement to what he knew Xander was suggesting. “We have to find him first. Before Buffy does. After that, we’d have no chance.”

“Well,” the third voice in the room caught both men by surprise, “I can help with finding him. Though, as for killing Spike, I don’t think my partners would appreciate that.”

Xander and Giles turned warily to face an extremely veiny woman, who looked vaguely familiar to Xander. Slowly, recognition flit across his face. “You’re a vengeance demon,” he said, pointing at her warily.

“Very good boy,” Halfrek said, stepping forward. “I’m glad to see that Anyanka has not entirely forgotten her heritage.”

Giles’ eyes widened in surprise as the full meaning of Halfrek’s presence sank in. “Wait, you’re a vengeance demon? With partners? What are you talking about and what does Spike have to do with it?

Halfrek looked at him. “You mean, you haven’t figured it out yet? You don’t know who’s behind the sunlight spell?” She started to cackle.

“What, wait…” Giles’ voice strained. The sunlight spell is about vengeance?” he asked, his disbelief apparent. “That’s the higher purpose? Vengeance?”

Halfrek turned to look at Giles. “You say that as if you didn’t understand the power of vengeance. The purity. Vengeance is one of the few emotions and motivations untainted by selfishness. When you want vengeance, true vengeance, you put that before everything—your own life, certainly others’ lives,” the demon smiled as Giles and Xander blanched.

“Against whom, exactly, is this vengeance being directed?” Giles asked, his brow furrowed.

Halfrek laughed—the clear tinkle of her amusement a striking contrast to the hatred on her face. “I would have thought that was obvious,” she said, smirking in amusement.

“Why don’t you clear it up for us, then? Since we’re being so dense,” Xander responded, his frustration mounting.

“Why, the spell is for the slayer, you idiots.” Halfrek ignored the men’s gasps. “Didn’t the appearance of Drusilla and Harmony give you the smallest hint? Even after they took Spike?”

“Drusilla and Harmony are behind this?” Giles and Xander stared at each other in disbelief. “Are you saying this is about Spike?” Giles growled. “Then why are you hurting Buffy? If Drusilla and Harmony are angry at Spike, why a spell that effects Buffy at all?

“Not all vengeance demons focus on cheating men,” the demon continued. “That was Anyanka’s raison d’etre. Some of us prefer to focus on…bigger things. And the entire demon world has been calling out for revenge—it just happened to be the vampires’ voices whose were the loudest. Drusilla and Harmony’s anger had an extra kick to it. To them, this was personal, and the best vengeance is always that, personal,” Halfrek said, staring at them, a smile playing across her distorted face.

Giles and Xander simply stared at her. “It’s a shame, really, that you two did not stay with the slayer. She so clearly wanted your help in saving William. Really, it was very disloyal of you. Though, I must say, I am pleased that we will now have three of the slayer’s nearest and dearest to taunt her with as she dies. So, actually, you’re unfaithful behavior will certainly be of help to our cause.”

The mens’ eyes widened as Halfrek’s words sunk in. “You’re going to kidnap us too?” Xander asked, his voice shaky. “Because I don’t think Buffy would be terribly interested in saving us right now.” He knew what he was saying wasn’t true, but Xander figured it was worth a try.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Halfrek responded. “Perhaps the vampire was right. You really don’t understand what motivates the slayer—how she works.”

“Enlighten us,” Giles said. He was vaguely curious and certainly eager to prolong a conversation that would apparently end in their capture.

Halfrek laughed again. “Certainly. But do not think that I will let you escape. I knew William before now as well. I don’t like what this Buffy has done to him any more than the vampires do.”

Giles and Xander glanced at each other in confusion. How many women has Spike managed to piss off over the years? Xander wondered anxiously. And are they all going to decide it’s Buffy’s fault, not his?

Xander’s silent questions unanswered, the demon continued. “The slayer’s essence, her motivation in everything that she does, is love. This has been true of all slayers, but the humans in charge of her—the council, I believe you call them—have never been able to understand this. They persisted in viewing the slayer as only a killing machine, isolating her from the world. This is why so many die so young. There is nothing to keep them here. This slayer, however,” Halfrek arched her eyebrows at them, “she has defied these other humans. She has friends and family. She loves as Slayers were meant to love—completely. She would sacrifice herself to save someone, something she loves without hesitation.” Halfrek stopped, her eyes appraising the two in front of her.

“That sounds like Buffy,” Giles said, his voice soft. “But I don’t understand. You just said that she would willingly die for love. How can her death be the higher purpose of the vengeance spell, if it is something she is willing to do? Her death will return the world to normal, make people safe during daylight again.”

Halfrek laughed. “The world, yes. The world will be safe again. But you. The vampire. All of her friends, hopefully. She will die unable to save you. Unable to act on her love. And the pain of this will torture her. The guilt will never leave her soul. When she dies, as a result of the spell, her soul will be kept in limbo—unable to communicate with others, or find solace. She will spend eternity alone with her guilt, unsure of what has happened to those she loves.”

The pit that had been growing in Xander’s stomach now reached epic proportions. “But, but that’s not fair. That’s—”

“Vengeance,” Halfrek said, looking at him.

“But,” Giles floundered for hope, “you have to kill Buffy first, and that will never happen. She will win. She always does.”

Halfrek grinned evilly at him. “She won’t have a choice. There is no other way for the spell to be reversed. It must have its vengeance, or your world will continue to be plagued by vampires.”

With that, Halfrek grabbed the two men who were too stunned by her words to resist her. Muttering under her breath in a demon tongue, the three vanished into thin air.

*************************************

“I’m sorry Buffy,” Willow said softly as they all sat in the kitchen, watching Dawn make hot chocolate.

“It’s ok,” Buffy managed, her voice quiet, as if she thought speaking to loudly would break something. Looking up, she met Willow’s gaze. “It’s nothing less than I expected, really,” she said, sighing. “I just wish they could have had a little time to get used to the idea before Spike was kidnapped.”

Dawn stepped forward, offering her sister a cop of cocoa. “It’ll be ok, Buffy. Giles and Xander will come ‘round and Spike can take care of himself.” Dawn tried to smile. “At least Dru and Harmony are demons. That means he can fight back, right?”

Buffy smiled wanly at Dawn’s attempt to cheer her up. “You’re right, Dawnie. He can. And I’m sure he will. I just wish I knew what to do. I’ve…I’ve never tried to do this—to fight a big bad—without Giles.” She tried to keep her voice from sounding defeated, but Buffy’s fear was overwhelming her. What am I going to do? What am I going to do? Without Spike’s calming presence, she seemed unable to think, and since Giles was clearly not going to do the thinking for her, Buffy was starting to feel desperate.

“Well, the first thing we need to do is a tracing spell,” Anya offered, her voice brisk. “Sitting around here won’t do any of us any good, and it’s boring. Also, the sooner I can get back to Xander and convince him not to be mad at me, the happier I’ll be. I am anticipating very good makeup sex. So lets get a move on.”

The other girls grimaced at Anya’s forthrightness, but nodded their agreement about the need for action. “A tracing spell?” Tara asked, looking at Anya questioningly.

“Well. Yes,” the demon said, looking at the rest of them expectantly. When she realized that none of them understood her, she rolled her eyes. “The smoke after Drusilla and Harmony vanished—that’s smoke that comes with a teleportation spell and the more smoke there is, the sloppier the spell—which means that they should have left a path a mile wide for us to find.”

“So…it’s like a locator spell, except you locate the spell instead of a person?” Willow ventured, her voice brightening.

“Exactly,” Anya looked at her happily and patted the redhead on the head. “I knew you’d get it.” Ignoring Willow’s frown, she continued. “It’s actually very similar—you just have to give the spell a slightly different clue—like a different scent for dogs.” Anya nodded eagerly.

“What kind of clue? Or, um, scent?” Dawn asked, looking at Anya perplexedly.

“Well,” Anya furrowed her brow and turned to Buffy. “Can you think of anything that Spike, Drusilla, and Harmony have all touched? There are other ways, I suppose…we could try to call forth their essences and steal a pinch, but, really…something tangible would be much simpler.”

Buffy searched her brain, frowning when she realized what they’d need. “Yeah,” she said. “I can think of something. It’s at Spike’s crypt though. I’ll have to go get it.”

“Hurry. We’ll set things up while you’re gone,” Anya answered, standing up to begin the preparations.

“Already on my way,” Buffy said as she headed for the door, but Tara stopped her suddenly by touching her shoulder.

“Um…Buffy?” the witch looked nervously at her. “I just—I just w-wanted to tell you not to worry. I don’t think they’d hurt Spike. In fact, I’m starting to think this whole thing is about Spike.”

Buffy smiled tightly at her. “Thanks Tara, but that’s the problem. I’m starting to think that too.”

**************************

When Xander and Giles rematerialized with Halfrek they were standing in the center of a particularly large crypt. There were cobwebs everywhere and a thick layer of dust. It looked like no one had been there in years, but then Giles saw the trap door at the base of one wall.

The crypt smelled like old shoelaces, forcing the two humans to wrinkle their noses until Halfrek turned to glare at them.

“Get over it,” she said, her words biting. “I don’t know why the two of you are suddenly so sensitive to smell. I’m sure you’ve been in a crypt numerous times. Besides, that lovely scent is D’Hoffryn’s essence, and if he sees you scrunching your noses up he’ll fry you before we can get this spell done.”

Xander and Giles forced themselves to relax their faces before exchanging worried glances. Halfrek led them to what looked like a blank wall and Giles was surprised when she simply reached out and grabbed a doorknob he somehow hadn’t seen when he’d looked at the wall.

As the door swung open, the two men were greeted with an interesting scene. Across the room, on the opposite wall, a half-naked Spike was chained standing up. His demon visage was out as he struggled against the restraints and the bruises and cuts across his bare chest were testimony to the fact that he’d been resisting for a while. Drusilla and Harmony were parked a safe distance in front of him, making cooing noises and whispering as they alternately played with Drusilla’s dolls and tried to calm Spike.

“Dru! Come on now, Dru,” Spike was doing his best devil-may-care smile. “Now, you know very well, pet, that I can’t go about bein’ the big bad if you keep me chained up like this. You know it ain’t fair. What’s a vamp got to do to have a bit of fun around here?” Spike asked, trying to keep his voice light.

“Not yet Spike,” Dru said, barely looking at him as she locked eyes with one of her dollies. “Mummy says that we must wait. We must wait until we are sure you want to play again. Last time, you were mean. You changed the rules. That wasn’t a very nice Spike,” she said, slowly turning towards him, smiling her I’m-even-more-insane-than-you-thought smile. “And now it’s time that you were punished. So be a good puppy and take your punishment. Than you can play with the rest of us as long as you promise to follow the rules.”

“Yeah, Spike,” Harmony ventured, slightly unsure of what Drusilla was talking about, but eager to yell at Spike. “No cheating.”

Spike was about to respond when his eye caught the movement at the other side of the room. Xander and Giles. Spike growled. “What are they doing here?” he asked, venomously.

Drusilla and Harmony turned to look at the new arrivals—a slow smile spreading across Dru’s face as she recognized Giles. Clapping her hands together, she stood up, eyeing the watcher. “Puppy’s back!” she exclaimed, making Giles flinch at the memory of his last encounter with the female vampire when she’d managed to fool him into thinking she was Jenny Calendar.

“Why are they here?” Harmony pouted. “And can I eat Xander? Or maybe I’ll just kill him and feed him to Spike. I don’t really want to eat a Harris,” Harmony smirked as she looked back and forth between Spike and Xander.

“Like I’d eat him!” Spike sputtered, but his face relaxed into his human form as he looked at the two men he’d just been fighting with. What are they going to do with them, Spike worried, anxious about the pain their deaths would cause Buffy. Bloody hell. “Besides, Harm. You can’t eat them. The slayer’d have your arse in a second. Even Dru and her new magicks couldn’t protect you from Buffy if you hurt her watcher, or the whelp,” Spike said, trying to sound as though he thought Buffy’s fondness for the two humans was an irritation. Not like that’s hard to do.

Giles and Xander plastered themselves against a wall as Halfrek followed them into the room. “William’s right, Harmony. We can’t hurt them. At least not yet,” Halfrek said as she pointed towards two other sets of manacles. “I’m sure you two can manage to lock yourselves in.”

Spike was staring at the demon before him, his eyes widening as she turned to face him. When Halfrek noticed his look she quickly turned to the side, attempting to avoid his gaze.

“Cecily?” Spike’s voice was hesitant, but everyone in the room heard it and turned to look at him curiously. “Cecily, is that you?” Spike asked again, his voice more sure.

“Cecily? Who’s Cecily?” Xander and Harmony asked in unison before glaring at each other.

Dru stood up slowly, turning her head from side to side as she looked at Halfrek and then Spike, alternating her glare. “That can’t be…” the brunette said, lifting up her hand to touch Halfrek as she approached her. Halfrek shrank before her touch and tried to back away, hoping desperately that D’Hoffryn would decide that now was the moment to appear.

“Who’s Cecily?” Harmony repeated, stamping her foot as she watched Dru corner the other demon. Turning to Spike, she said, “Don’t be stupid. That’s Halfrek. She’s a vengeance demon. She’s helping us with the spell. She wants to help us get Buffy—”

“Shush, Barbi!” Drusilla said, from half way across the room as she looked at Harmony in irritation. Instantly, Harmony quieted as a vacant look slid over her eyes.

“Oh, bloody brilliant, Dru,” Spike said, realizing that Harmony was in Drusilla’s control. He watched as the vamp continued to approach Halfrek, who cringed in the corner.

“Are you sure, Spike?” Drusilla asked, her voice faint and sounding as if she was much farther away than she really was.

“Of course I’m sure. The woman broke my heart. You can be damn sure I’d recognize her—even if her face is all veiny.” Spike shuddered quietly before quickly returning to his earlier machismo as Giles and Xander watched the scene, trying to understand what was going on. “So, when’d this happen Ces? One too many blokes write you a poem, you had to go and get ‘em all back?” Spike asked, sneeringly.

“Be quiet William,” Halfrek spat, the fear receding from her eyes momentarily. “Your mouth was always what got you in trouble” she said, taunting him before being thrown back against the wall by a back-hand from Drusilla.

“You’ll not be teasing Spike,” Drusilla said, her voice plaintive as she stood over the other woman. “Not after what you did to him.” Her voice cracked as she wailed at Halfrek, before she turned and looked passionately at Spike. “I didn’t know ‘twas her, love. You must believe me,” she said, rushing towards Spike and hugging him, suddenly oblivious that he couldn’t return her embrace. “Please don’t be angry darling. I would never—”

A bewildered Spike stared at the vamp hugging him, glancing at Giles and Xander before saying, gently, “It’s ok Dru. There’s no way you could’ve known. By all rights she should be unrecognizable. I was only able to recognize her because of the eyes. Those didn’t change. I wrote so many bloody poems about ‘em, I ought to be able to remember the peepers.”

Drusilla whimpered against his chest, her control over herself obviously fading in Spike’s presence. Harmony remained in the corner and the three men looked at each other as they silently debated what could be done.

Halfrek remained on the floor where Drusilla had swatted her, and though she moaned periodically, it seemed unlikely that she’d wake up any time soon. After exchanging a look with Giles, Spike sighed, visibly drained, before resuming his more irreverent demeanor in an effort to make Dru think he was returning to his old self.

“Come now, pet,” he said, looking at Drusilla before he began stroking the top of her head with his chin. “What say to lettin’ Spike go so’s the two of us can have a go at her together, eh?” He ducked his head, trying to look into the vamp’s eyes. Thank God Cecily’s a demon now. I can hit her and Buffy can’t be disappointed. Not that she would be. It looks like Ces is in on this too.

Drusilla lifted her eyes to Spike’s, searching them. “Do you mean it Spike? We can fight together like before? Before we ever came to Sunnydale? Before Angelus came back? Before…her?”

Spike’s cheeks clenched slightly at the reference to Buffy, but he forced himself to stay calm. He could see Xander and Giles staring at him in fear, clearly uncertain whether Spike’s attempt to influence Drusilla was an act or not. Can’t worry about their delicate feelings right now. “Yeah, pet,” he said softly. “Like before. All you need to do is unlock these—”

Spike was cut off by the sudden sound of deep laughter. Drusilla whirled around to face whoever it was, while the others stared. Harmony remained entranced in a corner and Halfrek was still out cold.

You are just a stupid, love struck vampire, aren’t you?” D’Hoffryn said as he slowly approached Drusilla. “You would actually free him, wouldn’t you? You believe what he says?” D’Hoffryn rolled his eyes and then narrowed them, anger showing clearly on his grey face. “Good thing I’m here then,” he said as he grabbed Drusilla by the arm and began to drag her towards another set of manacles.

********************

When Halfrek awoke she was confused to see the dumb blonde vampire above her, pacing. When she shifted slightly because her foot had fallen asleep, Harmony gasped.

“You’re awake!” Harmony squealed, making Halfrek’s head ache.

“Yes, no thanks to that Drusilla. Did she really have to hit me? I mean, really. She’s put up with you, hasn’t she? And she knows that William has for some reason lowered himself to spend time with you prior to his latest tryst with that slayer.” Halfrek’s voice was harsh, but she tried to sound as calm as possible as she distracted the vamp while she looked around the room, wary of a second attack.

“Hey!” Harmony said, pouting. “What Spike and I have is real. And there was no lowering, well not of the bad kind anyway. Spike just needs some time to…you know, sow his wild onions, or whatever. He’ll come back to me, I know he will.”

Halfrek couldn’t suppress the snort that followed Harmony’s declaration. “Yes, and Drusilla is going to kindly step aside and let you two walk away into the sunset?”

“Well—I—” Harmony was clearly stumped. “I haven’t thought about that yet. The plan was to kill Buffy to make Spike bad again. Drusilla said he won’t snap out of this until Buffy’s dead—something about Spike being overly loyal or something. I don’t care. I figured Spike would just pick between us after the spell. Drusilla will just have to accept his decision.”

Halfrek decided to let that one go. No use disillusioning the girl until after the Slayer is dead, she thought, noticing that Harmony was suddenly walking towards the door.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’ve got to go get D’Hoffryn,” Harmony said, barely turning her head as she walked away. “He said to come get him immediately when you woke up. He needs to ask you about someone named…what was it? Cecilia? Celery? No, Cecily. Yeah. He needs to ask you about someone named Cecily. So don’t move until I get back.”

Halfrek’s eyes widened as she suddenly remembered why Drusilla had started beating her. She watched Harmony’s back as the vampire left the tiny room they’d been placed in. It was clearly somewhere below the other, main room that they’d been using to hold the prisoners, so there was no chance that she could make a break for it without going by that room.

Halfrek’s stomach began to tie in knots as she waited, wondering what D’Hoffryn’s reaction would be when he realized that she’d tainted the vengeance spell. That she hadn’t just been doing her duty as a vengeance demon when she answered Drusilla and Harmony’s call. She’d been waiting for them specifically.

********************

In the main room of the crypt, little had changed. D’Hoffryn was pacing back and forth amidst the now four people he had chained to various walls.

Spike had continued to try to convince the demon that he was bad again—he’d been convincing enough to scare Xander and Giles a little, and the vamp could tell that Dru was falling for it, but D’Hoffryn ignored him, consumed by his own worries.

When the door of the crypt opened to reveal Harmony’s anxious face, D’Hoffryn froze.

“Is she awake?” he boomed, glaring at Harmony.

“Y-Yes, she’s awake. A little woozy still, but awake. I don’t think she can move—I—I wouldn’t have left her alone otherwise. I—”

“It is fine,” D’Hoffryn said as he took several swift strides towards the door. “I will go speak to her. For now, you must watch the prisoners. Do not do anything until I get back.”

Harmony whimpered an assent as D’Hoffryn left, his long cloak sweeping behind him in a dramatic exit. Drusilla smiled in spite of her chains as she realized that, in his confusion, D’Hoffryn had forgotten the pull Dru had on her blonde partner.

“Harmony!” she sing-songed. “Harmony! Won’t you come and entertain Mummy? It’s very unkind to leave her so lonesome.”

Turning to face Drusilla nervously, Harmony refused to look the other vampire in the eyes. “I’m not listening Dru. D’Hoffryn said I’d be in trouble if I did anything, and I know that if I do the whole spell will be ruined. So, I’m. Not. Listening.”

Giles watched as the two female vamps argued. Harmony was slowly edging closer and closer to Drusilla despite her increasingly loud protestations that Dru couldn’t make her do things. Carefully, Giles looked at Spike who was watching the two women with equal interest. Giles could tell that Drusilla was convinced that Spike had returned to the fold. It helps that she’s crazy, because, really, he hasn’t been terribly convincing given that he hasn’t offered to kill the two of us yet, Giles realized, thinking about himself and Xander. But, what will happen if Spike is freed? Would he really hurt Drusilla for us? After…Giles was beginning to regret his reaction to Spike and Buffy’s announcement even more. Still, he can’t hurt us out of spite. That would only hurt Buffy, Giles reasoned, shocked as he registered on the fact that he knew, implicitly, that Spike would never do anything to hurt Buffy. That doesn’t mean he’s even capable of stopping Drusilla, let alone D’Hoffryn. We’re going to need help. Setting his jaw grimly, Giles tried to catch Spike’s eye. He was beginning to develop a plan, but communicating it would require a miracle in and of itself.

Quickly, with a flash of her eyes Drusilla freed Harmony from her trance. Turning quickly from the wall, Harmony gaped as she took in the scene in front of her. “What happened?” she asked, her voice a squeak. “Did you put me in a trance again, Dru? Because I thought we talked about that—we’re equal partners in this, whether you like it or not, and if you have me in a trance when Buffy dies and I don’t get to see—”

Spike snarled at the blonde’s words, straining at his chains and letting his demon come out.

Harmony started to shrink away, but remembering that the other vamp was chained, relaxed a little only to have her focus shift to D’Hoffryn and Drusilla. “Hey, wait! Why are you locking her up? You can’t do that. She’s part of the team—an annoying, crazy part who keeps smashing my unicorns, but she’s still part. And you gave her all that magic. Don’t we need that?” Harmony looked at the demon questioningly.

“She attacked Halfrek,” D”Hoffryn said, nodding towards the demon’s body. “And she was about to unlock that vampire with the strange hair so the two of them could attack her together. I’m afraid your ‘partner’ has just violated the agreement.”

“But—but..,” Harmony was visibly confused. Biting her lip, she said, “But why would Drusilla want to hurt Halfrek? That doesn’t make sense. Are you sure she wasn’t just confused or something? I mean, I know Dru seems really capable…and she is…but sometimes…” Harmony turned to Spike for support, but he merely growled at her.

“I do not know why Drusilla would wish to harm Halfrek,” D’Hoffryn said, his voice tight as he turned to face the blonde, female vamp before him. “Is it safe to assume that your confusion in this matter means you have no wish to hurt Halfrek?,” D’Hoffryn asked, eyeing Harmony carefully. “Because harboring such ill will towards those who are helping you can only lead to—”

“No! Of course I don’t want to kill Halfrek,” Harmony looked at D’Hoffryn as though he had two heads. “I like Halfrek. Besides, if it weren’t for her Dru would keep me in that stupid trance 24/7. Bitch.”

D’Hoffryn continued to approach Harmony slowly, warily. “So you have no idea why Halfrek was hurt?” His voice actually sounded agitated as the demon looked from Halfrek’s body to Harmony’s face.

“No, really! I have no idea,” Harmony whimpered. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Then who does know why?” D’Hoffryn asked, looking dangerously about the room at the three men now chained to its walls. “Surely you have not managed to bring her to your line of thinking?” he asked, incredulous as he turned to Spike. “Drusilla is certainly malleable, but I had hoped she could withstand any argument in which the Slayer was not seen as something requiring immediate termination.”

“She appears to have one Spike over,” Giles offered, his voice tight.

Spike looked at him, realizing that the watcher was trying to help him escape. He tried to keep the surprise off his face. “Yeah,” Spike smirked. “Dru can have that effect on a man. Made me remember that the only reason I’m here at all is because she left me.” Slowly he turned to smile at his former mate who was now chained to the wall opposite him, hoping D’Hoffryn would forget the anger Spike had just expressed at the mention of Buffy’s death. “If Dru’ll have me back, I’ll be a man again—chip or no chip. She’s my sire. My bloody savior from mediocrity. As if I could resist that.” Spike’s stomach turned, but he kept his eyes focused on Dru—hoping she’d see what she wanted.

D’Hoffryn grunted, ignoring Harmony’s pout as she watched Spike and Drusilla make eyes at each other. “You vampires are certainly fickle creatures it would seem,” he said. “But that still does nothing to explain the attack on Halfrek.”

Spike was disappointed when neither D’Hoffryn nor Harmony made any move to unchain him, but he decided to continue. “That ‘Halfrek’ as you call her, that’s the mediocrity Dru saved me from,” Spike said, his voice harsh as he realized he’d actually expressed a true sentiment. Dru did save me…even if I did eventually need Buffy to save me from her. “But back then, she went by Cecily.”

D’Hoffryn looked at Spike, confused. “Yes. That was Halfrek’s human name before I elevated her. Are you saying you knew her…before?” D’Hoffryn’s eyes widened. “That’s impossible. Surely, she would have mentioned it. Why, if she knows you personally…the spell, it won’t—”
D’Hoffryn cut himself off, looking wildly around the room before his eyes settled on Harmony and he sighed heavily, realizing she was the only one left who was not incapacitated. “You, vampire. Take Halfrek outside, tend to her until she wakes up. Then call me immediately. I will watch the others.”

Harmony’s eyes slid from D’Hoffryn to Dru, unconsciously asking the other vamp’s permission. Dru nodded slightly, only to have D’Hoffryn turn to face her suddenly, slapping her. “You will not be allowed to participate until I have some answers. The blonde is following my orders—not yours,” he snarled before turning to a quaking Harmony and pointing angrily at the door. “Out!”

****************************

When Buffy returned home, the others had prepared the tracing spell, but their faces contorted in confusion when they saw what she’d brought them.

Blushing, Buffy held out the black satin sheets to Anya. “Please, don’t ask. It’s a guess, I know. But I’m pretty sure I’m right about this. They’re his favorite. There’s no way Harmony and Drusilla haven’t encountered them at some point.”

Anya nodded as the others tried not to look directly at Buffy, everyone all too aware of how, exactly, the two vamps would have ‘encountered’ the fabric in front of them.

Buffy went into the kitchen to wait while the witches and Anya performed the spell. Dawn was already there, eating handfuls of cocoa-krispies out of the box, which she silently handed to her sister as she walked in.

“Thanks Dawn,” Buffy said as she sank her hand into the box. “I’d forgotten I was hungry.”

Dawn nodded slowly as she chewed and swallowed. After sitting still for a minute she turned to Buffy. “So…when were you going to tell me?”

Buffy blinked, confused. “Tell you what?”

“That you’re in love with Spike?” Dawn’s voice was neutral, but Buffy knew her sister was angry she hadn’t been the first to know.

“I’m sorry Dawn,” Buffy said quietly. “I—I didn’t know it myself, really. Not until I said it to him. I didn’t mean for everyone else to hear it at the same time. I’m sure Spike would have appreciated it if I told him when were alone too…I just—oh, I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Dawn faced Buffy, looking at her closely. “So…it’s true, then? You love him?” Her voice was shaky, and her eyes were earnest.

“Yeah,” Buffy blushed and looked down at her hands as she fiddled with her thumb, “yeah, it’s true.” Buffy was surprised when Dawn was suddenly hugging her, her arms thrown around Buffy’s shoulders. She was hugging her harder than Buffy had thought Dawn was capable of, but Buffy simply smiled and hugged her gently back. “Thanks, Dawnie.”
Dawn pulled away, smiling. “It’s cool, you know, if he wants to stay here. He could move in even,” Dawn’s smile was getting even bigger. “Then we could have pancakes everyday!”

Buffy laughed. “We’ll see, Dawn. I’m glad to hear you’re ok with this, but I’m not sure Spike will be up for the whole…house thing. I mean, he’s been living on his own for a really long time. I’m not sure he’ll want to, you know, settle into a routine or something, and I don’t want to force him in to anything,” Buffy said, her voice growing softer as she realized she was talking about a future she couldn’t be sure would even happen.

Dawn looked at her sister worriedly. “What’s wrong Buffy? I’m sure Spike would deal if you asked him too—”

“No, no. It’s not that. It’s—I just wish I knew where he was. That he was ok. I just found him, and I…” Buffy couldn’t finish the thought out loud, but Dawn understood and leaned forward to hug her sister a second time.

“We’ll get him back, Buff. I know we will. And then we’ll make Xander and Giles understand they can’t tell you what to do. I’m the one who’d have to live with the two of you, and I’m fine with it. Happy even. Spike is a lot nicer than Riley. He treats me like I’m a person, and…he really helped after Mom died,” Dawn said, softly.

Buffy looked at her in surprise. “He did? I didn’t know that.” Buffy smiled slightly as she thought about Spike’s behavior towards Dawn. I think he loves her too, which is just so sweet, but then, he liked mom too. Spike is definitely a fan of the Summers clan.

Buffy and Dawn continued chatting as they waited for news from the other room, but before anyone could come to get them, a huge BANG! erupted from the living room and smoke began to waft into the kitchen. The two sisters ran into the room, but couldn’t see anything because of the fog.

“Willow!” Buffy called. “Willow, what happened?” She could hear people coughing and she ran to open all the doors and windows, waiting for the smoke to dissipate.

Slowly, the room became visible again and Buffy looked around at Willow, Tara and Anya, who were still sitting on the floor—covered in soot, but apparently ok.

“Hi, Buffy,” Willow said, sending a small waive in Buffy’s direction. “I guess we should have done this one outside.”

Buffy coughed again, but smiled at Willow. “Don’t worry about it. Just tell me the spell worked and we know where Spike is.”

“We know,” Anya said. “I’m just not sure it’s going to help.”

“Why not?” Buffy asked, her voice anxious with worry.

“Because we found out who is giving Drusilla all that magic.”

“Oh. Who?”

“D’Hoffryn, the bastard,” Anya muttered as she slowly began to stand up. “That’s what all the smoke is. You remember when Willow got her little invite from him? He left that burnt spot on your carpet? Well, that’s what happens when D’Hoffryn teleports—well, it happens when anyone teleports—but only D’Hoffryn’s smoke smells like this,” Anya made a face and the rest of the girls nodded in disgust at the scent floating around them. “I think I was just too surprised to notice the smell before. What with the Xander yelling. I really don’t like it when he gets angry. It’s quite inconvenient, really.”

“It smells like…,” Dawn scrunched up her nose, “old shoelaces.”

“Exactly,” Anya said. “And he, of course, thinks it’s heavenly. You wouldn’t believe how many demons he killed because they said something about the smell. He’s very touchy about it.”

“I can see why,” Tara said. “Or, I guess, smell why.”

“Well regardless of his poor taste in cologne, what does D’Hoffryn have to do with all of this? Why is he involved with Drusilla and Harmony?” Buffy interjected.

“Well,” Anya looked at Buffy, “I guess the two of them are after some kind of vengeance. Against Spike, maybe? But, I really can’t be sure. If it was me, then I know they’d be after the guy, but not all vengeance demons focus on unfaithful men.” Anya paused, thinking. “And what’s really weird is that D’Hoffryn is personally involved. He doesn’t usually do that, you know? He kind of prefers to sit back and watch his minions—i.e. people like me—do his dirty work. If D’Hoffryn is involved, that means something big—much bigger than your typical vengeance spell—is happening.” Anya looked at everyone else, watching them take everything in.

“Big as in…,” Tara hesitated, her voice shaking, “letting vampires walk around during the day?”

“Yeah. That would definitely qualify,” Anya responded, her voice glum.

“Oh. Wait!” Willow’s finger shot into the air. “That’s the higher purpose then. Of the spell. It’s not just so vampires can walk around whenever they want. It’s to get revenge. To get revenge against…” Willows eyes widened as her brain finished the thought.

“Me,” Buffy said flatly, her eyes widening as she stared at the floor. “It’s like a vengeance spell tailor made for the slayer. And, let me guess: You said the spell only ends when the higher purpose is reached, right? And the higher purpose would be revenge against me, so this only stops when…when, what?” Buffy looked at the others. “Something else has to happen other than this vamps and sunlight thing? What could that be?”

“My guess?” Anya said, facing the rest of the room. “The vengeance won’t be complete until you die. Preferably in some extra-special horrible way.”

“Oh,” Buffy said, her eyes widening. “And I don’t suppose fake dying would cut it this time, huh? No brief heartstoppage only to be revived by loving friends? That trick only works once, I guess."

When D’Hoffryn arrived, Halfrek was sincerely worried. It was clear from what Harmony said that D’Hoffryn now knew that Halfrek had a personal connection to Spike—William, as she thought of him. That meant he also knew that she had tainted the spell.

The demon broke one of the door’s hinges as he thrust it open, his anger radiating from his body. He stared menacingly at Halfrek as she cowered in the corner, still too weak to move.

Slowly, he began to move forward, making her want to shrink into herself, or the floor—whichever would get her away from her employer more quickly. Finally he stopped, his feet little more than a foot from her trembling body. Halfrek stared at his feet, afraid to look directly at him.

“Halfrek,” he said, his voice quieter than she’d expected, “Why did you do this?”

Her head jerked up to look him in the face. His voice was plaintive, barely angry at all. He didn’t look like he was going to kill her. He looked like he might cry.

“Wha—What do you mean?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Why did you involve yourself in a vengeance spell to which you are personally connected?” His voice remained low, but an edge of irritation was leaking in and he spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child. “I’ll admit, I was surprised when you brought this opportunity to my attention. You are usually so focused on vindicating abused or neglected children that this seemed to come out of the blue. But I assumed it was your passion for vengeance, for what you do, that made you recognize the greatness of this plan. But now…now you have ruined all chance we have of real success by your involvement. Why were you not honest? Why did you insist on participating?”

“But I didn’t!” her voice squeaked as she opened her eyes widely. “I didn’t participate,” Halfrek insisted. “You cast the spell. You engaged the two vampires in partnership. I didn’t do anything. I thought…I thought that would be sufficient,” she said, her voice softening as she reached her conclusion. “I still think it is. I was careful to ensure that you and the vampires would be responsible for all aspects of the vengeance spell. I am here merely as an observer. A biased observer, yes. But I do not think that my bias should effect anything, since I have not, in fact, participated.”

“You stupid girl,” D’Hoffryn spit out. “Of course your presence affects the spell. You are correct that if you had simply informed me about this situation, and then kept yourself away, that your selfish motives would not have influenced the spell. The problem, however, is that your presence has an effect. You were the one who came up with the spell, remember? You heard their cry and then you provided the vampires with a method—that was more than you should have done. And now, you have kidnapped several more of the Slayer’s friends. Just because you did not participate in the actual chants that directly preceded the spell does not make you uninvolved.” D’Hoffryn sighed deeply at the end of his explanation.

“Oh,” Halfrek responded, her voice tiny and breathy, barely a whisper. She sat still while D’Hoffryn sank into silence. He was clearly debating something in his head. “Wha—What are you thinking?”

His eyes tore back up to hers, glaring with such ferocity she couldn’t help leaning back slightly, as though his eyes themselves would attack her. “I am trying to figure out what the real higher purpose of the spell is, now that we know our goal has been tainted. There is no way the slayer will die now. In fact, your involvement virtually guarantees that she will walk away unscathed.” D’Hoffryn grew silent again, and then slowly stood up, continuing to look at Halfrek in disdain. “You will stay here. I must inform the vampires of your mistake, and then we must attempt to end the spell.”

“Why does the spell have to end?” The question was out of Halfrek’s mouth before she could think. D’Hoffryn’s eyes narrowed further, a feat Halfrek would have thought impossible. “I—I just mean that half the globe is in chaos because vampires can walk during the day, and…there is no pressing need to end the spell.”

D’Hoffryn rolled his eyes and began walking away. “You really are a stupid girl. I thought I just explained it to you. As long as this spell lasts, the slayer cannot die. Your…interference will have disturbed the powers. Your selfishness will cause them to protect the slayer in an effort to achieve balance. She cannot die at the hand of anyone affected by the spell, meaning no vampire or demon can kill her. She would even survive an apocalypse currently. Though, I suppose that’s always an alternative—we could try to get her sucked into a hell dimension—but she seems particularly adept at averting such disasters even when she’s not functionally immortal.” D’Hoffryn opened the door angrily, keeping his back to Halfrek and stormed out without another word, leaving Halfrek with tear-widened eyes to listen as his footsteps faded away.

******************************


Buffy impressed herself when she realized that the closer they got to their destination the more she could smell and feel Spike. Spike specifically, not the other vampires. She was surprised at her body’s determination to connect with Spike—she would have expected it to be revolted. Instead their connection was only increasing, as if some unknown force within herself was trying to unite them. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that her body had always had a different reaction to Spike than other vampires, even Angel/Angelus. She always tensed when she felt him but even when she was fighting against him Spike had never truly made her feel afraid—for herself, anyway. She was always worried about what he might do to other people but for some reason, when she was in his presence, she felt perfectly capable. That’s why I’ve been getting so much better, so much stronger. That wasn’t happening until he got chipped—until he started helping me. A surge of pride gushed through Buffy as her body surprised her again with its joy at understanding her connection with the vampire. She smiled as she realized how much her body had known when her head refused to listen.

Lewis and the other women walked behind Buffy on their way to the cemetery with Lewis bringing up the rear to guard their flank. Buffy had insisted he at least leave orders back at the base to call his men off—just in case they called in. And then they had left. The sun was setting slowly, leaving Buffy thankful that the sunset no longer heralded the arrival of vampires. If she was lucky, they wouldn’t have any problems before they reached the crypt the spell had identified.

Willow and Tara were eyeing Buffy carefully—she was sending off strange vibes, but not in the emotional sense. Though the witches could always feel Buffy’s presence slightly due to her power, her signal suddenly seemed much stronger—like a charged battery. The witches could tell that Dawn and Anya were noticing something different too, forcing Willow to whisper do Dawn, “Um…is it just me, or does her skin seem to be actually glowing? And I mean that in a literal, not a metaphor for Buffy being beautiful, way.”

Dawn only nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on her sister. “She can feel him.”

********************************************

In the room beneath the crypt, Spike could feel Buffy too—a fact that thrilled him, but was, at that particular moment not terribly helpful.

“I can still see her,” Dru whined. “She’s still floating all around you like little balls of light. But you don’t like light, Spike,” the vampire continued. She was pacing in front of him, as she had been since Harmony finally succumbed to her control and released her. D’Hoffryn had been gone for a while and Spike was beginning to worry that he wouldn’t be able to convince Dru of his Bigbadness before he came back. He was also beginning to worry about Buffy’s arrival, which was beginning to feel was increasingly imminent. She need to know what higher purpose was. If he could, he’d convince her to go home, let him try to take care of this particular world ending, but he knew she’d never agree with that.

“You don’t think that could be actual sunlight, pet?” Spike asked, attempting to look at Dru. “Because, I do like the dark, but I can’t say I haven’t been enjoying the chance to explore the world during the day, the last couple days. You must’ve too. It’s probably easier to find kiddies during the daytime, isn’t it, luv?”

Drusilla smiled slowly, her eyes dancing. “Oh yes. I only wish you could have been there to help me. It was always such fun when we would hunt together.” Her voice lowered and she took a step closer. “But now, you hunt with her,” she said, her smile vanishing.

Spike sighed audibly. “Bullocks,” he said, keeping his eyes level with Drusilla’s. “I hunt what I can, where I can Dru. Chip, remember? I can’t hunt humans, even kiddies. A vamp’s gotta get his rocks off somehow,” he said.

Dru’s eyes narrowed as she attempted to see into him. Spike did everything in his power not to think of Buffy. He focused on his memories of saving Drusilla in Prague, hoping the images would convince her. She kept staring at him until suddenly, all he could see was Buffy. Buffy at the Magic Box. Buffy at his crypt, glaring at him. Buffy punching him in the nose. Buffy laughing. Buffy dancing. Buffy at the beach. He was lost in it. The memories of her flooded his brain, taking it over as he lived each moment with her again, her green eyes hovering around him. Slowly, as the memories slid over him, he began to remember things from longer ago, until suddenly he was focused on the first time he’d ever seen her—dancing at the Bronze. The memory was so real, he began to hear his thoughts again, echoing in the back of his brain like a loudspeaker.

Mmmm, he growled. Prettier than the last one. Smaller too. Very small, actually. Though, something tells me she doesn’t like hearing that. I’ll be sure to mention it, then. It was strange to see a slayer at a club. They aren’t usually up for having fun. All “let’s get down to business”-like but this one…he continued to watch her, his mouth watering as her shirt lifted with her arms and revealed a thin slip of her stomach, toned against the edge of her pants. She’s got friends. She’d laughed then, her rhythm breaking a little as her face lit up with a smile. Never met a slayer with friends before. Could be good, could be bad. At least I can use them as bait…lure her to me. Spike continued to watch her. I’ll be turning this one. That’s for sure. Even though I don’t think she and Dru will get along. I like her style…she’ll be fun to dance with.

“A-ha!” Dru’s voice broke Spike’s reverie and suddenly he was back in the crypt, faced with an angry Drusilla. She clapped her hands in front of his face, her nails flashing dangerously. “You were going to turn her,” she said, accusatorily. Spike could feel Xander and Giles’ eyes on him. “You were going to turn her without asking me!” Drusilla was shrieking, and she began to turn in fast, tight circles, as though she was trying to make herself dizzy.

“Now, luv,” Spike said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Of course I wanted to turn her. Do you know how powerful a turned slayer would be? We would have—”

“We!” Drusilla stopped spinning and pointed a finger at him. “We would have done nothing. I would never have shared you with a slayer.”

“Oh, you mean like I had to share you with Angelus?” The anger in Spike’s voice was real now. “You shared him with B—the slayer. First you shared him with Darla, and then you shared him with the slayer. How come I’m the only one who can’t spread the love, huh?” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he watched Drusilla squirm. She never could stand it when I got mad at her.

“That was different,” Drusilla said, her voice a whimper. “You were supposed to be mine. All mine—my prince, my rescuer,” her voice continued to fade as her gaze began to grow glassy. “And then we came here! And everything was ruined. Just ruined.”

Spike was about to respond when D’Hoffryn came through the door suddenly. “There’s been a change of plans,” he said, eyeing Drusilla as he realized that Harmony must have unchained her. Still, the male vamp remained shackled. That was something.

“What? Why?” Harmony’s voice was grating and thick with worry. She was really tired of watching Spike and Drusilla have it out about the slayer with no mention of Harmony. It was like she didn’t matter.

“I’m afraid Halfrek has made a mistake that will affect the spell. We can no longer use it against the slayer,” D’Hoffryn kept his voice calm as he looked around the room. The two humans smiled openly at each other, but suddenly he was focused on Spike, whose body seemed to be giving off light. “You, vampire. What is that? Around you? Why do you suddenly carry light with you? You are a creature of the dark, but the essence surrounding you, it is…it is almost human.”

Fear rose in Spike’s throat. D’Hoffryn could see it too. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “I don’t have any sodding light. I don’t know what the hell you two are talking about, but I think you’ve spent too much time in this crypt. I’m pale is all. My skin reflects light. Nothin’ special about it. Get over it.” He tried to keep his tone nonchalant but his eyes continued to flick back and forth between Drusilla and D’Hoffryn. He didn’t want them to be able to see the glow. It’s getting stronger. She’s getting closer, but if they figure it out, she’ll get ambushed.

“It’s the slayer,” Drusilla said in explanation. “He’s covered in her. That’s why I haven’t let him out of the chains yet. He practically smells human.”

Spike breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they couldn’t tell that the light was in response to Buffy’s proximity. Still, he began to worry, what are they going to do now?

****************************

Buffy heard them before she saw them. The soft patter of multiple sets of running feet. She’d learned to recognize it during her brief stint working for the Initiative. The soldiers were here. Turning to Lewis, she said. “They’re here. Call them off.”

Lewis looked at her apprehensively. “They may not respond. I—”

“You better make them respond, or I will do what I have to do to prevent the from killing Spike. I told you the first day I met you Colonel Lewis. I will do whatever it takes to protect me and mine,” Buffy said, glowering at him.

“I’ll try,” he said as he headed off into the woods in the direction of the trotting feet.

The girls stood in silence for several moments, staring at the place in the brush where Lewis was last seen. “Do you think he can stop them?” Dawn asked, eyeing her sister warily.

“I certainly hope so. I don’t like to fight humans, and Spike can’t. Not having the Initiative involved would make this whole thing much simpler.” Buffy stopped talking as a surge of energy tore through her and her head began to dance. She tried to steady herself against a headstone, but suddenly she was no longer in the cemetery. She was…in the Bronze?

Buffy tried to look around, confused, but realized she had no control over her body. She was dancing—Xander and Willow were there, but they looked much younger. Looking down as best she could, since she couldn’t tilt her head, Buffy recognized clothes she swore she’d thrown out. Where am I?

Suddenly, she started to hear herself think, except it wasn’t exactly herself. It was a version of herself, whom she could hear thinking, but not actually help think. This is fun. This is normal. I can do this. Who cares if I’m the slayer? There’s no rule against fun—at least I hope there isn’t, and if there is, well—Buffy stopped listening to herself when she saw something out of the corner of her eye that made her jump. It was Spike, but not her Spike. This was Spike from the beginning, the one who wanted to kill her. Slowly, Buffy began to realize that she was in a memory—one of her own to be precise. And this particular memory focused on what she presumed to be the first time Spike ever saw her. He’d told her once that the first time he’d seen her was in the Bronze—dancing—not outside like she remembered. She watched him as the earlier version of herself remained oblivious to his presence.

He was smiling with his usual smirk but with more than a touch of menace. He was also checking her out. Buffy blushed, or would of, if her mind was connected to her body. She’d known Spike always found her attractive, but as she watched him watch her, she could see his eyes as they grew cloudy with desire and…something else. She felt her body laugh and saw the corresponding lightening of his eyes, as though he appreciated her laughter, as though it pleased him. Even then, she realized, he liked seeing me happy—on some level, even if it was just sexual, he liked to see me smile.

Still stuck in the memory, Buffy contemplated her various fights with Spike, marveling that neither one of them had ever managed to beat the other. She was beginning to grow frustrated with her former self. Why didn’t I feel him? Buffy focused on her senses, trying to tell if Spike had triggered any of them. Attuned to herself, Buffy felt her heartbeat quicken slightly and she felt the quick intake of air when her old self looked up suddenly, focusing on where Spike had just been. He was gone, but Buffy had definitely noticed. That was when she felt the arousal begin to tickle her skin, and she heard herself think, I wonder who was watching me. I could feel him, it was definitely a him, but it was nice—not creepy the way Xander sometimes is when he looks at my boobs as if they’re a separate entity. All of me was being watched. And it was being appreciated. It felt like…it felt like Angel.

Buffy was torn from the memory after that last thought and she returned to the cemetery reeling. Anya, Tara, Dawn and Willow were all standing above her, looking at her anxiously. “What happened?” Willow asked as she offered a hand to help Buffy up.

“Um…I’m not sure. I just got a trip down memory lane for no apparent purpose. Though, it was kind of enlightening,” Buffy said, smiling softly as she stood up. Well, that explains why alarm bells didn’t go off. Spike felt like Angel.

“A trip down memory lane?” Anya asked, confusedly. “What was the memory? Did it have anything to do with what’s happening now?”

“I—I don’t think so,” Buffy said, furrowing her brow. “It was, the memory was,” she felt herself flush as the others looked at her. “It was the first time Spike saw me,” she said, keeping her voice flat. “I—or at least the I back then—didn’t see him, but I, um, I felt him. Actually,” she blushed deeper, “I thought it was Angel.”

“Wait,” Dawn’s voice was perplexed. “You mean, the first time Spike saw you, you didn’t notice? Your spidey-sense didn’t wig out?”

“No,” Buffy answered as she looked at Dawn, smiling softly. “I’ve always wondered why. He told me that he saw me in the Bronze first, but I only remembered seeing him outside. He watched me stake another vamp and then told me he was going to kill me. That part I remembered. The tummy tingle when I felt him—not so much.” She smiled weakly.

“So…you’re saying that even before you met Spike, your body reacted differently to him than other vamps?” Anya asked. She was looking at Buffy intently. “He didn’t send off warning bells until after he’d threatened to kill you?”

“Um..yeah, I guess.” Buffy looked at Anya anxiously. “Do you think that’s important?”

“It certainly seems prophetic,” Tara said, her voice firmer than usual. She blushed when everyone turned to look at her, quickly losing her confidence. “Well, I—I—”

“You’re right, Tara,” Buffy said, oblivious to Tara’s worried face. “My body knew who Spike was already, and since my mind was only familiar with one vampire, I assumed it was him. But how is that possible? How could my body know something the rest of me doesn’t? As far as I know, my body doesn’t go places without me.” Buffy laughed softly at her attempt at humor.

Willow smiled, “It’s probably nothing Buffy. I mean, you couldn’t even tell Angel was a vampire when you first met him, right?” She watched as Buffy nodded. “And it’s not like you and Spike don’t have a connection. I’ve seen the two of you fight. Even before he got chipped and came over to our side you guys moved like you were in sync—like—”

“It just means you were supposed to meet,” Anya said matter-of-factly as she turned to continue walking towards the crypt.

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked. She remained rooted to the spot. Her eyes were anxious.

“Relax Buffy. A reaction like that—on first meeting—or first tingle, I guess—it just means that something, somewhere, knew in advance that the two of you would meet. It doesn’t mean much—there are thousands and thousands of useless prophecies lying around, waiting for someone to interpret or look at. Most of them don’t mean anything, and simply state the obvious. You know, like ‘Someday a woman will bear a child and the world will change.” Cryptic stuff like that that doesn’t mean anything because every time a woman bears a child the world changes. There’s probably some prophecy that says ‘Someday the slayer will meet a vampire and know him.’ That could mean bunches of different things—like you knew him before he turned, or you’ll get to know him after, or you’ll have a slayer dream about him beforehand and recognize him. Or, it could just mean that he won’t feel like a stranger. Vague language is key in prophecies.”

Buffy looked at Anya, perplexed. “So, you’re saying that it’s possible that Spike and I were meant to meet, but that beyond that it doesn’t mean anything. There was no ‘what will happen after’ clause?” Her voice was anxious. I wanted this to be out decision—not some greater power.

“Well,” Anya hesitated, “it’s not like I can read the prophecy, but I doubt there’d be many specifics. Besides, even if there is a prophecy out there about a vampire and a slayer, there’d be no way to tell whether the vampire it referred to was Angel or Spike. You’ve officially gotten two vampires to fall in love with you. I’d say you’ve trumped any prophecies. Besides, you know how flimsy they are. You died, right? But you’re still here.”

Buffy was strangely comforted by being reminded of the prophecy involving her and the Master. “Yeah, you’re right Ahn. Besides, it’s not like there’s anything I can do about it. My life is all about destiny. Why should my love life be any different? Things being preordained doesn’t make them any less real, I know that.”

“So do I,” Dawn said, looking at Buffy significantly. “Real is a pretty relative term, don’t you think?”

Buffy understood Dawn’s implication immediately and hugged her, hard. “Exactly. Besides, right now the important question is not about that. It’s about why I just received a full-service memory IMAX for no reason. Any ideas?”

The women looked at each other blankly. Finally, Tara said, “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s connected to everything else, and that we shouldn’t worry about it. It didn’t hurt you, and if it was supposed to provide a clue, you don’t even know what the clue is for yet.”

“Good point,” Buffy smile gratefully at Tara. “Tara’s right. Let’s get a move on. We don’t know if Lewis was able to stop his men or not.”

The five women resumed their walk as the crypt in question came into sight.

*******************

Lewis breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the battalion only yards away. Finn was leading them and they had paused for some reason—it looked like Riley was debating which way to go next. He was conferring with his second in command and pointing first left, then right.

Lewis walked straight up to the commanding officer, noticing soldiers’ bodies tense in surprise as he strode by them. All of them recognized him instantly. He was thankful for that. He didn’t want to surprise anyone into a taser attack. Some of them were eyeing his axe suspiciously. Riley turned to face him when he heard the beginnings of a commotion behind him. Lewis watched as the man’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Hello Colonel,” Riley, said, managing to keep his voice calm.

“Agent Finn,” Lewis said, nodding curtly. Finn was not his favorite person. The more time he spent in Sunnydale the clearer it became to him that Finn was here simply because of an unhealthy obsession with an old girlfriend. Lewis had seen the tape of Riley’s invasion of the Summers’ home but he had postponed disciplining the soldier when the news about Hostile 17 had come through.

“I didn’t know you were going to join us, sir,” Riley said, his voice barely masking his displeasure at his superior’s arrival.

“Well, there’s been a change of plans,” Lewis responded evenly. “And since you all were on radio silence I didn’t have much choice.” Quickly, Lewis turned to the group of men behind him, assuming command without so much of a nod to Riley. Addressing the group, he said, “Stand down men. We are returning to base. The threat has been contained. We must return to our efforts of controlling the general vampire population.”

Riley stepped forward eagerly, easily forgetting Lewis’s snub in his excitement. “The threat has been contained? You mean Hostile 17 has been captured? Or terminated?” The joy hedging his voice was hard to ignore.

Lewis looked at his second in command with growing distaste. “Hostile 17 has been contained, Agent Finn. That is all you need to know at this time. When we return to base you and I will be having a discussion about your behavior towards our on-sight liaison, Miss Summers. You very nearly cost us her cooperation with your stunt the other night. I thought we’d made it very clear that we would do nothing to further antagonize Miss Summers and her…followers. She could be a very important asset to this program and I will not have you botching that up with any of your personal bullshit, Agent Finn. Now I suggest you start getting your act together. The only reason you were included in this mission after your desertion last year was your supposed connection with Miss Summers. You assured us that she would feel more comfortable with our involvement if you were here. Clearly, that ship has sailed. So, if you hope to remain a part of this program, I suggest you shut up and start following orders. Is that clear?”

Riley’s eyes seethed, but he kept himself in check. “Yes sir, Colonel. I understand.”

Lewis nodded and then began to follow the rest of the unit as they headed away from the cemetery. Riley debated a moment, but quickly followed. Bitch deserves the stupid vamp anyway, he thought. He’ll just leave her like Angel did. Then maybe she’ll learn.

*******************************

D’Hoffryn was still pacing. The vampire’s strange appearance was bothering him. He knew from the brunette vampire’s odd ramblings that he was somehow involved with the slayer—that had been the whole point of the spell from her perspective—to get this male vamp away from the slayer and then maybe watch her squirm a bit. D’Hoffryn was not terribly interested in the specific pain of the slayer—though he knew that was the spell’s purpose. He also knew that his Anyanka had joined forces with the young woman, but that wasn’t his interest either. He was interested in what would happen when this slayer died. He knew there was no replacement for her because of some twist in the slayer line. He didn’t know the details, he had just looked forward to several years without a slayer. Now, that was impossible—or at least it was until the spell was finished. If only he could figure out what the spell’s higher purpose was…

Spontaneously, D’Hoffryn exploded in anger, screaming and startling everyone else in the crypt. He glared at them all as they looked at him anxiously, clearly too afraid to ask why he had screamed. Slowly, he resumed his pacing, hoping the motion would help him think. D’Hoffryn knew he was running out of time—knew the slayer would find them eventually.

After watching D’Hoffryn pace for several seconds, Drusilla returned to her position in front of Spike, who had now given up all attempts to convince her to release him. With his sudden and increasing light bulb resemblance, he knew there was no way to fool her. Thank God or whoever that she’s off her box. If she could actually have a logical thought she’d know why my body has decided to channel the sun. Spike continued to watch her rant, glancing periodically at Giles and Xander. Giles knows, he thought, enjoying the increasingly anxious looks the watcher was shooting him. And he’s not happy about either—even though it’s going to save his tail just as well as mine. But nooo, he has to be all upset that his precious slayer has a connection with another vampire. Just because I’m not Angel and I actually care about her more than—Spike cut himself off, realizing that his internal rant was causing him to sneer angrily in Drusilla’s direction. The brunette was staring at him furiously.

“What? Spike? Why are you making that face? I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that except Angelus.” She whimpered, glaring accusatorily at him. “Don’t look at me like that Spike. It makes me feel…mish-mashed. Like all my lovely insides have been torn to bits.”

“Maybe you should stop yelling at him.” It was Harmony, temporarily free of Drusilla’s mind control and glaring at the other woman. “This was not the plan Drusilla. We were supposed to remind Spike how much fun he can have when he’s a normal vampire. Not lecture him. No wonder he left you—”

“I left him!” Drusilla screamed, looking like she might pounce on the blonde at any second. “He wasn’t acting like my Spike, my darling. My delightful, magnificent evil, laughing Spike. He—”

“Wasn’t in love with you anymore,” Spike finished, realizing only after he’d said it how stupid it had been to admit—to declare—something like that to Dru.

Slowly Dru turned on him, raising her hand to slash his face with her nails. Spike braced, closing his eyes carefully in preparation for the scratch he knew was coming.

It never came, and with his eyes still closed, Spike was surprised to hear a familiar voice. “You know what Dru? I think Harmony’s right. I don’t think you treat Spike right. What with the scratching, and the yelling—oh, and don’t forget cheating on him with a chaos demon. I mean, gross! Were you possessed or something? I mean, sure, he can be irritating. God knows. But you do realize that Chaos demons ooze, right? And it smells—”

Spike’s eyes flew open in time for him to see Buffy throw Drusilla across the room with a low “umph” requiring a pause in her tirade. She looked at him and smiled brightly. “So you’re glowing too, eh? I guess that means it’s catching.”

Spike smiled slightly as he watched her start working on his chains. “Nice to see you too, pet. Thought you’d never get here.”

“Came as fast as I could,” she said, her voice serious. “They haven’t hurt you have they? I figured they wouldn’t since, you know, they’re in love with you, but you never know. Dru seems like the kind of girl who’d been into some really weird stuff…” Her voice trailed off as she finished freeing him, and she watched as he shook out his arms.

Behind her Spike was surprised to see Dawn working at Giles’ and Xander’s chains, noting a shimmering circle that surrounded her. Anya was screaming at D’Hoffryn in a demon tongue he didn’t understand, and the demon looked very much like he was about to launch her across the room. Tara and Willow were facing off against Drusilla and Harmony, who were too busy throwing barbs at each other to focus too much on their attempts to hurt the witches.

“I hope you’re up for this,” Buffy said, eyeing him worriedly. “You see, you’re the one who’s supposed to be my back up when I’m rescuing them. It doesn’t work so well the other way around.” She smiled slightly, watching him smirk.

Spike swelled with pride at her statement. He was looking at her closely, their proximity only adding to her usual luminescence. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but now wasn’t the time. “I’m ready. I’ve been ready—just needed some help with those soddin’ chains.”

“Ok, then,” Buffy said as the two launched themselves into battle. Spike went immediately to Willow and Tara’s aid. Leaving Harmony to the two of them and taking on Drusilla himself. Buffy managed to get between Anya and D’Hoffryn just as he swung a blow that would have done significant damage to the ex-demon.

“Anya!” Xander screamed. Giles and Dawn were physically restraining him within her protective bubble. The shopkeeper managed to step out of the way, though, as Buffy quickly distracted D’Hoffryn. Quickly she ran to the group in the bubble.
“Xander! Are you ok?” She was briefly oblivious to the other two present. He smiled weakly.

“Yeah, I’m good. Useless as ever. But good,” he patted her on the shoulder comfortingly. “They won’t let me out of the protection spell, though. Dawn seems to feel that I can’t take care of myself,” he said, his voice thick with irritation and hurt pride.

As if only then remembering Dawn’s existence, Anya turned quickly to the girl and Giles. “Oh, thank you Dawnie. I know Xander doesn’t like being protected, but you must keep him safe. I—”

“Anya,” Giles, the voice of reason, interjected. “We must keep you safe too, you know. I’m afraid Dawn’s protection spell is not strong enough to envelope you as well, but perhaps you’d be willing to accompany us outside. We need to find the other vengeance demon. What were they calling her, Xander? Hazelnut? Halliburton?”

“Halfrek!” Anya said, her eyes suddenly flashing. “Where is she? The little bitch. I’ll teach her to think she can wreak vengeance on my boyfriend.”

“Wait, Anya, you know who she is?” Xander asked, his eyes questioning her as the group of four headed towards the door, carefully sidestepping Buffy and D’Hoffryn as the continued to fight. “How? You haven’t even seen her yet.”

“We saw the video,” Dawn said, her voice cutting through the chaos around them. “Colonel Lewis. He brought us the tape and showed us what had happened. That’s why Buffy let me come—because we knew we had to help you too,” her voice was soft, but each of the men noticed that Dawn was being unusually reserved—doing everything necessary to keep them within her protective space, but avoiding any other contact and refusing to look them in the eye.

“Well, at least the military goombahs actually served a purpose for once,” Xander offered, eyeing Dawn carefully.

*******************************

Buffy was careful to keep D’Hoffryn distracted until she saw Dawn and the others escape. She knew Spike would make sure Willow and Tara were ok, so she continued to focus on D’Hoffryn, until, suddenly, he vanished with a poof of his smelly smoke. Coughing, Buffy looked around in surprise. The others fighting across the room looked up to see what had caused the smoke and Buffy smiled at Willow and Tara.

“I hope I’m not going to smell like him after that,” she said as she quickly crossed the room. Drusilla and Harmony eyed each other nervously, edging back slowly before suddenly grabbing each other by the hand and vanishing in a cloud of smoke just as they had done earlier.

“Well that’s no fun,” Buffy said, pouting. “I was kind of liking those odds.” The other three stared for a moment at where Drusilla and Harmony had been standing before looking at Buffy.

“What now?” Tara asked as she slowly relaxed, relieved the fight appeared to be over for the moment.

“Now, we regroup,” Buffy said perkily. She was glowing even brighter and she and Spike seemed unable to take their eyes off each other. “I’m not dead yet, so I’m assuming they’ll be back.”

“Oh!” Spike looked at Buffy happily. “That’s right. Don’t worry, pet. Apparently, they did the spell wrong—or Cecily did, or something. I didn’t understand, but D’Hoffryn said that they could no longer use the spell against you.”

“What?” the three women said in unison.

Spike started slightly at the vigor behind their voices. “I’m just saying what I heard is all. Don’t claim to understand it, just—”

“Wait,” Buffy raised her hand and looked at Spike confusedly. “Who’s Cecily?”

“Oh yeah,” Spike said, his enthusiasm waning a bit, “you don’t know about her.”

“Don’t know about who, Spike?” Buffy asked, her voice sharper. Tara and Willow looked at each other and then at the pair in front of them who were now not only glowing, but pulsating, the light issuing from them rhythmically.

“Um, guys…not that this isn’t important,” Willow interjected, “but, um, I think we should probably leave. Because, you know, they might come back, and um…”

Buffy looked up at her as though she was coming out of a daze. “Yeah, right. We should go. You’re right Will, of course. Let’s go find the others. Clearly we need to do an information exchange.” She softened visibly, allowing herself to return to her early happiness about Spike’s apparently unharmed status. Glancing up at him, she caught him looking at her through his eyelashes and she felt her heart speed up, only then noticing that the pulsating light seemed to speed up with it. She looked at her bare arm, watching it closely. “It’s—”

“Yep, pet. It’s your heartbeat,” Spike said, taking a step closer to her.

“But, yours, it’s the same rhythm. How can that—”

“Because I don’t have a heartbeat, luv. Though, apparently yours will do for the both of us,” he said smiling. Slowly, he reached out a hand to tuck back a piece of her hair, caressing her cheek as he went. Buffy smiled shyly at him, leaning into his touch, but Willow and Tara gasped.

“Um…guys,” Willow said, her eyes wide as she looked at them. The blonde pair turned to look at the startled redhead, their hands reaching to clasp each other’s. She and Tara continued to stare, blinking rapidly, until Willow managed, “I think that while you guys are touching, I’m going to need some sunglasses.”

**************************
hey had found the room quickly. Anya had been able to feel Halfrek’s presence—a left over from her demon days, she said. Now the four of them were standing over her cowering form as Xander explained to Anya why they couldn’t kill her outright.

“We need to find out what she knows, Ahn,” he said soothingly, cupping her face in his hands. “And we can’t ask her questions if she’s too dead to answer them.”

“Ok,” Anya relented, “but can we use brutal interrogation tactics? You know, like in the movies?”

“No,” Xander said. Then he looked at Giles. “Well, not unless Buffy says it’s ok. And only if there’s no other way.”

“I’ll talk!” Halfrek yelped, her voice high pitched and filled with fear. “I’ll tell you everything. Just please don’t hurt me and please don’t let D’Hoffryn find me.” She whimpered when they all turned to stare at her angrily.

“So you’ll come with us of your own accord?” Giles prodded, looking the woman—she’d put on a human face in an attempt to mask her veins and make her more palatable to the people before her—“You won’t struggle?”

“I’ll come,” she said, nodding softly. “I might need a little help, though. Drusilla hits quite well.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage somehow Haly,” Anya said angrily. Grabbing Xander’s hand she turned towards the door. “Let’s go. She can follow us if she wants to.”

Xander quickly acquiesced to her grip, shrugging helpless at Giles as he was pulled out of Dawn’s force field.

Sighing heavily, Giles offered a reluctant hand to the demon. “I’ll help you up, but you’ll have to manage on your own after that. Use the walls.”

Halfrek nodded and they followed Xander and Anya out the door.

Giles was perplexed by how bright the passage way suddenly appeared, but then he saw the illuminated forms of Spike and Buffy ahead of them. Setting his jaw grimly when he saw that they were holding hands, he tore his gaze off of them and tried to focus on the demon in front of him—hoping she wouldn’t fall so that he wouldn’t have to help her.

“You’re going to have to deal, you know,” Dawn said in his ear, her voice icy. “It’s not just going to go away because you want it to. And you’re going to have to apologize. A lot. You really hurt Buffy and—”

“I know Dawn. I know,” Giles stopped her, his voice low and miserable. “I just—I’m not going to be happy about it, no matter what she wants. I can’t be happy about this. She deserves so much better.”

“She deserves to get what she wants,” Dawn said evenly, raising her eyebrows at the man she considered her surrogate father. “I know you mean well Giles. And I know it’s ‘cause you love her, but you still need to understand that Buffy deserves to be happy how she wants to be happy—not how you, or I or anyone else wants her to be.” She watched Giles nod glumly before she continued. “Look, I know I’m not supposed to talk about this. None of us like to. But after Mom died, Buffy sat me down and explained some things—some realities.” Dawn paused again, breathing nervously, reluctant to say what she needed to say. “Giles, Buffy knows that she doesn’t have forever. She knows what her life expectancy is—both in terms of length and also in terms of quality. She’s never going to have a normal life, Giles. There are no white picket fences and PTA meetings in her future—no matter how long she lives. I know my mom—and maybe you too—used to hope that Faith could be rehabilitated and take over, but we all know that Buffy wouldn’t let her do that. Even if Faith does come back from the dark side, Buffy would never shirk her duties as the slayer. And that means—well, you know what that means. She needs to be happy when and how she can be and none of us should stop her or interfere. Besides,” Dawn allowed her voice to lighten and a smile spread across her face, “in terms of her whole shortened life expectancy, Spike is kind of the perfect boyfriend to help her with that. No one else could.”

Giles looked at the young woman by his side, surprised at her insight and her forthrightness. “You know Dawn, you’re not supposed to be the one spouting wisdom…”

“Yeah, well,” Dawn smiled bigger, “Out of the mouths of babes and all that jazz,” she said, watching the man beside her visibly relax as they finally exited the crypt and began the walk through the cemetery. “Just shape up, ok? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure this wisdom geyser doesn’t spout too often.” She laughed at the confused face Giles made while he followed her metaphor.
“It’s gonna be ok, Giles. Really, it is.”

A/N: Ok, first thing's first. I promised glowing spuffiness for this chapter. And I've got it--it's just that it made the chapter really long. So I split it. Spuffiness will happen in the next chapter, which I will post mere moments after this one, I promise.

**********************

They went to the Magic Box first. Buffy thought neutral—or relatively neutral—ground was the place to start. Besides, having the discussion at her house would have been too close to her bed—too close to where she really wanted to be. I didn’t even get to kiss Spike after I told him I loved him, she thought sadly as she watched him pace across the Magic Box while Xander ordered pizza. I can’t wait to tell him again. But I guess I don’t have a choice.

Xander was still eyeing Spike with anger bordering on hatred, but Buffy could tell that Giles was starting to feel some remorse or at least a bit foolish. After all, if he and Xander hadn’t been so one-track minded about Spike they would have probably figured out that his kidnapping wasn’t a random occurrence and that it was connected to everything else. Everything’s always connected, Buffy thought. And if they’d agreed to help, they wouldn’t have been kidnapped themselves.

Halfrek/Cecily was tied to a chair and now that D’Hoffryn was gone she seemed, unfortunately, to be regaining some of her confidence.

“So, Anyanka, you love this boy?” she asked, her voice making not attempt to hide the condescension in her question.

“Yes. I do. I loves me and he gives me nice orgasms—lots of them. And he helps and he taught me about money. Money is much easier than vengeance and people don’t get nearly as worked up about it—well, most people.” Anya did not even look at Halfrek as she said this, instead focusing on her attentions on dust as she manically cleaned the Magic Box.

“So, you must help him earn money then?” Halfrek continued to push. “He does not make enough money to support you?” She kept her voice light, but the insinuation was clear.

At this Anya whirled around. “No he doesn’t, thank God! And why would I ever want him to? I love making money and I’m very good at it.” Her voice was a high whine as she looked furiously around the room, “Why on earth would I want him to be the only one making money? That wouldn’t be fair? I love making money. Please, Xander, don’t ever stop me from making money.”

Xander chuckled as he quickly hugged Anya. “Don’t worry Ahn. I would never stop you from making money.”

“Well, good,” Anya said, her voice calmer. “Now that’s settled. Who wants to begin questioning Halfrek? I vote for Buffy or Spike. They hit the hardest.”

The rest of the room looked anxious, before Giles stepped forward. “Actually, I think we need to start with Spike,” he said, his voice gruff as he looked at the vampire out of the corner of his eye. “We need to understand his relationship with this…woman.”

“Oh that’s it then, is it?” Spike said, the irritation in his voice clear. “Now you want to hear me talk. Well, right then. Bloody hell. Buffy, the next time my crazy ex decides to kidnap me, leave me to her. Dru may be off her box, but at least she’s not a bleeding hypocrite.” Buffy stepped forward to place her hand on Spike’s arm, but he turned suddenly to face Giles. “Rupert, you’ve got about as much moral fiber as Harmony—”

“Spike!” Buffy’s voice was firm, but not harsh. “Now is not the time—as much as I am tempted to agree with you,” she shifted her eyes to Giles, frowning—“we need to deal with this now. Giles’ inconsistencies can wait till later.” Slowly, she walked up and put her hand on Spike’s arm and looked up at him. “Please?”

Looking into her eyes all the anger immediately left Spike’s body and he automatically wrapped one hand around her waist. “Yes, of course, luv. You’re right. Self-righteousness later. I can do that,” he said, smiling softly.

“Good. Now tell me who she is,” Buffy said, trying to keep the edge of jealousy in her voice hidden as she smiled up at him anxiously.

“Her?” Spike snorted. “She is why I hated being a human. And she’s why I know I’m a better man now than I ever was with a soul because, back when I had one, I loved her.” Spike kept his eyes locked with Buffy’s and he spoke to her as if she was the only other person in the room. He smiled slightly as her eyes widened, but was satisfied that he saw no anger there. “No real comparison, is there, luv?” he finished, gesturing at the woman across the room.

“Wait,” Xander said, stepping forward, his head shaking. “You loved a demon before you were turned? You really are—”

“No, you stupid pillock,” Spike said, irritated. “She was human then. She was human the last time I saw her—so I was I, I suppose. I loved her before she was a vengeance demon. Just like you love one after,” Spike said, his eyes narrowing at the young man staring angrily at him. “I had no idea she was a demon. Until today I had assumed she died over a hundred years ago.”

Xander was silenced at Spike’s words and Anya’s eyes bored into him, waiting to hear what he would say next.

“It seems as if your boy has a slight issue with demons, Anyanka.” Halfrek’s unwelcome observation broke the standoff between Spike and Xander, forcing everyone to look at her. “If it’s any comfort young man, I did not love William back. He was far too…sensitive for my liking. It wasn’t till I learned that my William, who wrote bloody awful poetry, had become William the Bloody in an entirely different sense that I became at all intrigued.”

Spike cocked his head at her. “You don’t look any different. You must have been elevated not too long after I was turned.”

“You are correct. I am only a little over 100 years old, which is young for a demon—certainly much younger than Anyanka here, though it would appear she has already forgotten the last one thousand years,” Halfrek said, the disdain again clear in her voice.

“Whatever,” Buffy said, rolling her eyes at the officious demon. “You said yourself that you never loved Spike. So what’s the deal? Why team up with Drusilla and Harmony?”

“Yeah,” Xander surprised her by interrupting, “they didn’t even know who you were until Spike told them. What’s the deal?”

Halfrek rolled her eyes. “I told you when I first captured you. I don’t like what the Slayer has done to William any more than his vampire trollops.”

“Done to him? What do you mean?” Willow asked, stepping forward. “Buffy hasn’t done anything, except maybe make him a better person…which is, I suppose, what Drusilla and Harmony object to, but whatever. Why do you care? You never liked him to begin with.”

Everyone looked at Halfrek as they awaited her answer. Her confidence was waning as she looked around the room. “Well, I—I, I didn’t like him then. But then I heard…what he had become, and, well, I thought…I thought that maybe—”

“Wait! Let me get this straight. You didn’t like Spike, or William as you insist on calling him, when he was human because he was too ‘sensitive,’ but once you heard that he was, well, not so sensitive anymore, you liked him?” Xander was incredulous. “You liked him because he was evil?”

Halfrek flushed and she straightened in her chair. “Well, yes, if you want to put it simply. That is why I became a demon, after all. I knew that as a human I had no hope of—”

“Haly! You never told me you became a demon because of a guy!” Anya’s shock was clearly overwhelming her anger, as she looked at Halfrek disbelievingly. “You said it was because you truly believed that people deserved to be punished.”

Halfrek looked down, slightly embarrassed. “Well, Anyanka, it was a bit of both, really. I—I knew I didn’t like people—that they all seemed weak and selfish. And then, when I heard about William…it just made the decision that much easier,” she paused, looking at Spike and blushing. “I had planned to go looking for him immediately, but as I began to learn more details about his relationship with his sire…I figured I would wait. And I did. And then he finally breaks free of her only to be caught by this…girl!” Halfrek virtually spat the word, glaring at Buffy. “I finally had my chance, and there she was, civilizing him, turning him back into what I hated.”

Spike tightened his grip on Buffy’s waist protectively as he stared at Halfrek in disbelief. Buffy looked up at him, bewildered, and when she caught his gaze, all he could do was shrug, raising his eyebrow quizzically. “I don’t know, luv. I thought she hated me. I guess I’m not the only one who’s love’s bitch.”

Buffy didn’t know what to say. Part of her was surprised and even a bit amuse. Part of her was beginning to wonder just how much Spike/William loving a woman could do to her. The biggest part, though, was fighting the nervousness that was growing in her stomach as she realized that Spike was no longer looking at Halfrek in disgust. Is he still in love with her?. She tried not to panic as her eyes widened. I mean, what if—

“But, I’m sorry pidge. This bloke’s taken. That William you remember doesn’t exist anymore and though you seem to like the new and improved version, it comes without any love for haughty, snub-nosed bints who think that just because a man has become a demon means he’ll forget what she said to him,” Spike’s voice was filled with rancor and he was squeezing Buffy even tighter. “And if my poetry was so ‘bloody awful’ maybe you should blame the inspiration.”

Buffy was amazed and more than a little embarrassed at the relief that flowed through her, especially since she knew everyone could see it. As Spike finished his outburst, Buffy could feel her skin warm. The parts of her that were touching Spike were almost searing, though there was no pain. The two of them were creating an ever-brighter aura of light that and, as she looked at Giles, she realized it was making everyone else a little nervous.

Squeezing Spike back, she slowly stepped away from him, lessening their brightness. Turning to Halfrek, she said, “I don’t suppose you know why we’re glowing, then? I mean, as much as I’m enjoying being my own personal energy source—I’m starting to think that Dawn and I may have too much in common.” Buffy smiled lightly at her sister as they shared a moment over the difficulties of being a living ball of light.

Halfrek looked at the woman in front of her with pure hatred, but she responded. “I’m presuming that it is because of the fact that the spell has been tainted. Its purpose has changed, and apparently instead of separating the two of you, it has connected you even more intimately.”

“Tainted?” Buffy asked, her voice confused as she felt a thrill go through her at the thought of being intimately connected with Spike. Bad Buffy. Now is not the time for naughty Spike thoughts. But when she glanced at him, the look in his eye and the fact that his light and turned slightly red, confirmed for her that he was thinking the same thing.

This time, Giles answered. “Yes, Buffy. This is one of the things we learned while being held captive. Apparently, vengeance demons are not supposed to become involved in spells in which they have a personal…interest,” he said, glancing at Halfrek. “And if that happens—”

“The goal of the spell is reversed,” Anya interjected. “How could you be so stupid Haly? That’s lesson number one as a vengeance demon.”

“But I didn’t!” Halfrek half-yelled. “I wish everyone would stop saying that. You’re right, Anyanka, I do know the rule. That’s why I didn’t participate in the casting of the spell. No one ever mentioned the fine print about how, apparently, my sheer presence could muck things up.”

“Gah! Stupid 100-year-old,” Anya muttered, before perking up. “But wait. That’s good. That means Buffy doesn’t have to die.” She looked around the room expectantly, blushing when she realized everyone was looking at her funnily. “I guess everyone else already figured that out, huh?” she said. “Still—points for enthusiasm, right?”

Xander chuckled. “Of course, Ahn.

“So now what?” Dawn asked, relieved that, at least for the moment, no one seemed to be in any imminent danger. “We still need to determine the new goal, right? I mean vampires will still be able to walk around during the day if Spike and Buffy don’t…um…connect, and um…I’m just going to stop talking now,” Dawn said, blushing as everyone looked at the floor uncomfortably.

Coming to her rescue, Tara said, “No, you’re right Dawnie. We’ve got to figure this out. And something tells me that it’s a bit more complicated than…that,” Tara flushed too as Spike and Buffy’s light-auras visibly brightened.

Giles coughed uncomfortably. “Yes, well, Tara, I’m sure you’re right. But right now, I think it would be best if we all got some sleep. It’s quite late and as Dawn points out, the threat will remain during the day, and I think we all need to be well rested. Besides,” he glanced quickly at Buffy and Spike, “I need to go find some sun glasses before I spend any more time in their presence.”

Buffy giggled at Giles’ small attempt at humor, appreciating the effort. “Ok then, she said. Home again, home again, jiggidy jig. But, um, what are we—no, you—going to do with her?” she asked, pointing at the demon who remained tied to the chair.

“We’ll take her,” Anya said quickly. “I still have some things I need to talk to her about—and I’m the only one who knows what to do if she gets free.”

The others nodded in agreement and began to gather their things. Spike and Buffy looked at each other, their pulsating lights in sync. “Um, Buffy?” Giles ventured, looking nervously at the blonde pair. Buffy turned slowly to face him, purposefully letting him know that she was by no means done being angry. He’d been stupid and selfish, and mean. Mean watchers deserve to be punished, she thought. Still, she softened slightly when she saw the worry on his face.

“Yes, Giles?”

“I—I think it might be best if Dawn stayed with Willow and Tara tonight. It’s just that we don’t know exactly what that light does—and you were right about how similar it may be in nature to Dawn’s…essence, and we don’t want them mixing” he said, his voice hollow as worry flashed across Buffy’s face.

“You think this could hurt Dawn?” To Giles’ surprise it was Spike asking the question, his voice filled with anxiety as his eyes flashed back and forth between Giles and the young woman in question.

Relaxing slightly, Giles said, “I consider it highly unlikely. In fact—virtually impossible. But still, I think it would be better to be safe than sorry. Though, I consider it highly unlikely that the goals of the spell will harm any of us in anyway now that it’s original purpose has been reversed.” He directed this last part to Buffy, whose light had begun to pulsate very quickly, almost like a strobe light, and the color had turned slightly green.

He chuckled. “I could get used to that,” he said, nodding at the space around his slayer. “It’s like a window into your thoughts.”

Buffy smiled tightly. “Don’t. Sometimes I need my thoughts not to be written on my face—or on my aura, as the case may be.”

With that, she and Spike said their good byes to Dawn, Willow and Tara. Spike nodded at Anya, thanking her silently, and then the blonde pair headed for home, their forms visible from far away as the light bled off them and illuminated the darkness around them.

When Buffy and Spike reached home, they were both exhausted as they climbed the stairs. There was no need to turn on any of the lights as they got ready for bed. Their bodies provided more than enough.

“How are we going to sleep like this?” Buffy asked, her voice weary. “I mean, nightlights are one thing, but this?” She smiled playfully at Spike as she quickly slid her top off and unlatched her bra, giving him a brief show before slipping on one of his t-shirts to sleep in.

“I guess we’ll need to be really tired then, luv,” Spike said, his eyes dancing mischievously. “You know, so tired that we don’t notice.”

Buffy grinned widely—her first real smile all day—“Are you sure you’re not too tired? I mean you were kidnapped,” she said, worry filtering into her voice.

“Not a chance,” Spike said, closing the distance between them quickly. He was wearing only his jeans now, having provided Buffy with the shirt she was now wearing, and he smiled as Buffy’s aura visibly brightened while she looked at him. “I guess I won’t have to ask whether you like something or not, huh?” he said, pushing a few stray hairs out of her face and then cupping it, tilting her head back so that he could look directly in her eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

Buffy flushed under his gaze, always surprised by how much his compliments affected her. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that,” she said, her voice equally hushed as she gazed lovingly at him.

“Good,” he said softly as he leaned in to kiss her. Their lips connected slowly, their eagerness tempered by their desire to be tender, but the heat surprised them both. Buffy opened her eyes as she realized the room was only getting brighter the more they kissed, but she closed them quickly, lost in Spike’s embrace. Their tongues rolled over and around each other, dancing across each other’s lips and then slipping back in for a deeper taste. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped at the same moment Spike lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he cupped her ass in his hands. Startled to find nothing between him and the softness of her skin, he pulled back. “When did you take them off?” he asked, looking in her eyes and blinking as he attempted to adjust to the brightness around them.

“I didn’t,” Buffy answered, smiling devilishly.

“What do you mean you didn’t?” Spike asked, his eyes widening as understanding hit him.

“I wanted to try it your way,” she said simply, leaning in for another kiss. “It was a little distracting, though,” she whispered the words against his lips, before tracing their line with her tongue. “Every time I moved—”

Spike cut her off by attacking her mouth with his, kissing her passionately as he moved them to the bed. He’d already taken his shoes off, but as he laid her gently on the bed, he broke the kiss and began attending to his belt.

“I can do that,” she said, sitting up quickly. But he batted her off. “Now it’s your turn to watch.” He smiled as she relaxed onto the bed, her hair falling in a halo around her face. “Now I know why you smelled like that all day,” he said, smirking at her. “It was driving me crazy not knowing.”

Buffy flushed as he slid his pants past his hips, allowing his girth freedom. Its size still took her breath away, as did its silken smoothness. “You could tell?’ she asked softly, keeping her eyes focused on his cock, which glowed slightly brighter than the rest of him.

“Of course,” he said. “I damn near jumped you when Dru and Harmony pulled their vanishing trick. I would’ve too, if I hadn’t been afraid that your watcher might show up again. I don’t think Red and Tara would have minded.”

“Spike!” Buffy said, slapping at his chest and giggling softly. “I could never…” she was cut off when he reached out and quickly pulled his shirt over her head and then pushed her back to the bed, draping himself on top of her.

“You could never what, pet? Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have done anything more than we did at the Bronze the other night. I wouldn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities, now would I?” His voice was teasing, telling her just exactly how delicate he thought those sensibilities were. He didn’t give her a chance to answer before he was kissing her again, letting his hands flutter across her body, caressing her hair, tracing patterns on her arms and hips.

When Buffy broke away on a quest for air, her lips were plump and reddened. Their auras were starting to mix together and had developed a soft, pinkish glow as they squirmed on the bed. Spike moved slowly down her body, leaving a trail of kisses from her neck to her breasts that were still shockingly cool against her skin despite the heat the two of them were generating.

Growling softly, he licked the under side of one of her breasts, moving up until he reached the nipple, which he sucked into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he listened to her gasp. His hands were at her hips, holding her steady, but Buffy’s hands were moving up and down his back, over his arms, through his hair as she wriggled beneath him. He flicked the hardened nub in his mouth with his tongue and bit it softly before shifting and beginning the same process with her other breast.

Buffy could feel the tug in her stomach and the tremble in her knees as the tingle signaling her release began to grow stronger. She was amazed that he could do this to her with just his mouth and without even touching—Ack!, she gasped. Spike suddenly sat up, and pulled her roughly to the edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor and after hooking her knees over his shoulders, buried his face in her heat. The guttural groans he made as he licked her and repeatedly slid his tongue inside her vibrated against her clit, making her twitch.

“Spike, please! Please! I need to—I want to—oh my God—I can’t believe how good—so good—how do you—do that?—please!” The force of it surprised her and she screamed as her body bucked, grinding her clit against his tongue as he swirled around it. “Spike!” she gasped, embarrassed by how loud she’d been. The waves continued to come though, as a second orgasm tore through her out of nowhere. Spike held her hips against the bed, keeping her steady, and continued his rhythmic strokes until well after she’d subsided. He wanted to taste as much of her as he could.

After several minutes during which Buffy could only mew and pant, she reached her hand down and grabbed his hair, pulling him up gently but insistently. “Up here. Want. You. Up here,” she said, her pupils wide with desire.

“Whatever you want, luv,” he said, smiling at her. If Spike had had breath to take, he would have lost it when he looked at her. The light around her face had turned virtually white—making her look even more like an angel than usual. Her hair practically glittered, and the bronze of her skin, which glowed normally anyway, was even more striking than usual.

Buffy’s breath did hitch when she saw him, his pale skin radiating almost snow white against her own, browner tones. His eyes seemed to stand out even more than normal and the bright blue seemed to swirl around with the midnight, drawing her in. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as I do right now, she thought, surprising herself with the sentiment. Consciously, she focused her gaze, running one hand down his back, and keeping the other at the nape of his neck as she played with his curls. “I love you, Spike,” she said, her voice breathy. “I love you so much.”

She watched as Spike’s eyes deepened, the midnight taking over as she suddenly became aware that he was actually giving off heat himself. He was still cooler than she was, but he was definitely not room temperature. Slowly, he tilted his forehead forward so that it met hers, keeping their eyes on each other. “I should have said it before,” she whispered. “I should have said it when we were alone, I just—”

“Shh, pet. You never had to say it at all if you didn’t want to,” he said, his voice thick with tears that made Buffy ache. “But, I promise, luv, I’ll never make you regret saying them. I love you too.”

“Make love to me,” she said, her voice quiet, but firm. “And promise you’ll never leave.”

Spike’s grip tightened around her as he heard the pain behind her request. “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Wouldn’t ever leave you, Buffy, luv. I’d be lost without you—I need you, you’re my heart, my—” Buffy stopped him with a kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her.

They kissed slowly, languidly, enjoying each other’s taste. There was no need to hurry now. They’d both made their promises, and they both knew they’d keep them. Slowly, though, their kiss began to deepen, the urgency increasing as neither could keep their hands still.

“Shall we do it the old-fashioned way?” Spike asked, prying his lips from Buffy’s so he could look at her.

Buffy answered him silently as she parted her legs, pulling them up and wrapping them around his hips, opening herself up for him. She nodded, biting her bottom lip as she gazed at him. Slowly, Spike lifted himself up, positioning himself at her entrance and then, carefully, he began to move into her, inch by inch sheathing itself in her tightness. She squeezed him slowly, pulling him in as she adjusted to his presence. They kept their eyes locked as they began to move slowly, rhythmically together. Their auras had completely merged and together they created a ball of white light that illuminated the room even more than the actual lights. Outside, the room seemed to glow, as the two moved together.

They kept the pace slow—neither wanted this to end. Looking at her, Spike began to softly kiss her all over her face and neck as she shifted and arched, providing him better access to her nooks. “Nothing has ever felt like this,” he said into her collarbone, blowing cooling air at the base of her neck to cool her. “I’ve never fit with someone this way, never…” Spike struggled to articulate himself as he looked at Buffy’s flushed face, caressing her cheek with his hand.

Her hands continued to knead their way up and down his back, periodically reaching his ass to guide his thrusts for several seconds before they began their trip back up. “Neither have I,” she whispered, stroking him. “I didn’t think it could be like this…”

The ache in her voice made Spike want to grab her and hold her in his arms and never let go. Of course. The only one she’s been with more than once besides me is that stupid army git. He started kissing her again, luxuriating in her taste as he continued to thrust in and out of her.

Buffy had no idea how long they’d been doing this. It felt like hours, even days, but she didn’t want it to stop. She was riding another orgasm, whispering into Spike’s ear as she came, “Never had this many—can’t believe—how—God—you’re amazing—oh wow—love you,” knowing that it didn’t really matter what she said. She had to say something though, listening to Spike—who was a verbal lover in a major way—made her more aware of her own verbal/sexual behavior. If it was possible, the things he said to her made everything even more amazing.

He would bury his face in her neck, kissing and nibbling at her pulse point while his verbal caresses never stopped. “Christ, Buffy—oh, pet—wanna fuck—oh my God—so tight—so warm—you’re magnificent—never want to stop—that’s it—oh yes—squeeze me—pump me—fuck yeah—you’re so good—love you—so much—” He would stop only when he felt his balls tighten so that he could focus on not coming. He was determined to hold out as long as possible. “Love watching you come, pet—most beautiful thing I’ve ever—ever seen—love you.”

After a while Buffy lost herself in the sensations as she let everything—his touch, the orgasms, his words, his love—role over her and through her. She’d never felt like this—not even when she and Riley were trapped by that demon. This was different—she was aching for him, but felt satisfied at the same time, like this was where her body was supposed to be. Can’t believe how good this feels. I’ve never felt this…contented in my entire life. She opened her eyes when she realized his words had devolved into chanting her name. “BuffyBuffyBuffyBuffyBuffy,” he hummed in her ear.

She felt the beginnings of another orgasm and she pulled his face back to hers, looking him in the eye. “Come with me,” she said, panting. “Please, Spike, come for me,” she whispered, squeezing her muscles around him. Spike gasped as she did it and looked at her, smiling.
“I’m not sure how I ever came for anyone else, pet. Don’t think I could. Not after this,” his eyes stayed locked on hers as he increased his speed, pushing into her harder and faster.

“Don’t worry about it,” Buffy said. “You’ll never have to again.” And then she lost it, her hips bucking against him as she came harder than she had all night. “Oh, God, Spike! Harder, please, give it to me—oh my God—now, deeper—need you—in me—please—please—SPIKE!” She screamed as her muscles clamped down on him, arching her back against the mattress and pushing herself into him. His mouth was on her breast and he came as soon as her muscles squeezed him, his teeth biting down slightly on her nipple.

“BUFFY!” he allowed his own yell of pleasure to escape, thankful they were alone in the house.

They collapsed on each other, spent, but rejuvenated. He started to kiss her after she’d caught her breath and made no effort to move, content to remain inside her as long as he could. Buffy wrapped her arms around him, equally happy not to move. It was when she felt him start to harden again inside of her, that she broke away, gasping. “Are you serious?” she said, glancing downward.

Spike smirked, but quickly softened his smile. “It’s nothing, luv. Technically vampires don’t really need…um, down time,” he smirked again at his pun. “But, unless you’d like to argue with me, I think we’ve done enough for the night.

Buffy nodded, smiling and then trying to stifle a yawn that she couldn’t suppress. Chuckling at her, Spike slowly rolled off, quickly wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him to ease the sense of loss he felt at their separation. “Did the big bad vampire wear the wittle girl out?” he asked, pretending to mock her.

“I’d say the answer to that is obvious,” Buffy said, looking at him seriously. “And for that I say, ‘Thank you.’ I have to admit—I’ve never been on the receiving end of sexual exhaustion, and it’s nice. I just hope someday I can…” her voice trailed off as her eyes, still slightly glassy with passion, looked up at him questioningly.

Spike squeezed her. “Nothin’ to worry about there, luv. Just because it says it’s ready, doesn’t mean I am. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being turned on by you,” he smiled as he slowly pushed his again-solid cock against her hip, “but that doesn’t mean I’m always ready to have a go. Just nearly. And trust me, you can give me a run for my money any day. This isn’t like Captain Cardboard. We’re pretty evenly matched, I’d say.”

Buffy flashed him a stunning smile appreciating that he knew exactly what she was worrying about and then snuggled against him. Their auras remained merged, but they had mellowed. As if understanding the mood, the light had dimmed, allowing the two blondes to drift off in each other’s arms. The last words on both their lips were, “I love you,” before slumber hit them and their bodies succumbed.

***********************

Buffy woke up slowly, dimly aware that she’d never woken up this satisfied before in her entire life. By now, waking up next to Spike was becoming a semi-normal thing—as was the semi she inevitably felt tucked somewhere against her body. But this morning was different. She’d told him she loved him. He’d promised he’d never leave. And, true to his word, Buffy woke up in his arms.

She contemplated waking him up in some extra-special manner, but the fact that she was still sore in all the right places suggested that maybe, her body wasn’t ready for that yet. I’ve officially never thought that before, Buffy thought, smiling to herself. This is what people mean when they say ‘sexually fulfilled.’ Good to know. If things stay like this, I may end up sounding as worshipful as Anya. Buffy uttered a soft giggle at the thought, causing Spike to wake up slightly.

“Mmmm, morning luv. Something funny?” He whispered into her ear, letting the hand that was around her waist start slowly caressing the soft, taunt skin of her stomach.

“Just me,” she said, twisting in his arms so that they were face to face and she could start running her fingers along his cheekbones.

“What do you mean?” he asked as he took a deep breath, absorbing her scent and smiling against her soft fingers.

Buffy flushed slightly, and Spike could hear her heartbeat pick up, forcing him to open his eyes and look at the suddenly bashful blonde before him. “Well…I was thinking about how much fun I had last night and how good it felt, and then I thought that I sounded like Anya…and that made me laugh.”

Spike smiled too, hugging her close. “Does that mean I’ve been a good orgasm provider?” he asked, mocking Anya’s tone slightly, but intent on hearing the answer to his question.

“Oh my God!” Buffy couldn’t keep the enthusiasm out of her voice as her body thrilled in the memory of the previous night. “I think you’re the best. Like officially. Somewhere it must say, written down, Spike—Best Orgasm Provider in the Entire World. If it’s not in the Council’s books, it should be. That’s the kind of thing a slayer needs to know.” She giggled into his shoulder and Spike swore his heart started beating again out of sheer pleasure.

“Well that’s music to a vamp’s ears,” he said. “And before you ask, or worry about asking, you were amazing yourself.” He looked down and used his hand to tilt her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I mean that Buffy. You were bloody fantastic. You always are, of course, but last night was even better than the one’s before. It’s ok to say that, right?” he said, his tone growing worried as he realized he’d said something potentially upsetting. Damn it Spike, learn to keep your mouth shut. But when he looked down, Buffy was smiling at him.

“Of course it’s ok to say that,” she said. “It’s true. And I always want you to be honest with me about stuff like that. About everything, really. But especially about that. I know I have a lot to learn and—”

“Shh, pet,” Spike whispered, stopping her mouth with a finger. “You’d be surprised how much you know. Enthusiasm isn’t given the credit it deserves. Enthusiasm and open mindedness. That’s all a person needs. Trust me.”

Buffy smiled into his finger and then kissed it. “I love you,” she said, looking at Spike.

He was surprised to hear it. He knew Buffy didn’t throw those words around a lot, even with Dawn and her mom. “I love you too,” he said, his voice husky with sleep and emotion.

“I don’t know why,” Buffy said, smiling at him, “but I really like saying that to you.”

“Don’t ever stop,” he responded, his voice earnest as he kissed her forehead.

Grinning, Buffy said, “Of course not. How’s this: I love you Spike and I always will. Better?”

“Like I’ve died and gone to heaven, accept heaven doesn’t actually describe how hearing that makes me feel.” He leaned forward to kiss her, but she suddenly wriggled out of his grasp, standing up and providing him a wonderful view of her body before she slipped on his t-shirt.

“Human, remember? Bad morning breath. Something I doubt you could romanticize into something good, especially since you have an extra-sensitive sense of smell.” Buffy giggled as she ran to the bathroom, watching his mouth drop open and then snap shut as she exited.

Spike listened to her brush her teeth. She hummed as she brushed, telegraphing her mood to him as sure as actually tell him. Damn right, he thought. Bloody heaven.

When she came back, she looked at him, her head cocked sideways. “Have you noticed?” she asked, still looking at him curiously.

“Noticed what?” he asked nonchalantly, not at all eager to get out of bed.

“Our glowy skin. It’s…less glowy,” she said, looking at her arm. Buffy felt almost sad. “Do you think it’s fading?” she asked, looking at him anxiously.

Spike stood up slowly, reaching for the sweat pants she’d provided him as pajamas. “That would be tough to say. It could just be that we don’t glow as much in the day time. Or it could mean that it—whatever it is—is going away. I don’t know what we did, though to make it—” He stopped when he saw Buffy’s sly grin. “No, I don’t think so. I think Tara’s right—it’s got to be more complex than that. I don’t need a spell to make me want to make love to you. I got that far just fine on my own.”

“Oh really?” Buffy asked, arching her eyebrows. “And Willow’s spell last year—back when you still hated me—that did nothing to help this along?”

Looking at her dancing eyes, he relented. “Well, I suppose it confirmed what I already thought—that kissing you would be the only thing better than fighting you—but I was already heading in that direction. Really, I was.”

“Well, regardless of what it was,” Buffy said as she stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist so that she hug him, “I’m glad.”

“Me too pet, me too,” Spike said, embracing her in his own arms with fevered enthusiasm. “Me too.”

************************

For once, Buffy and Spike were early when they arrived at the Magic Box. Giles was the only one already there and for several long, uncomfortable minutes the two blondes watched as he puttered around the shop muttering Britishisms to himself and looking for books.

“Giles!” Buffy finally said, her voice slightly louder than she’d intended. Both Giles and Spike jumped, having grown accustomed to the silence.

Immediately Giles removed his glasses and began cleaning them as he squinted in every direction but Buffy’s. “Yes?”

“Come on Giles,” Buffy said, her voice a mixture of irritation and mild amusement, “this is ridiculous. Talk to me—to us. Say what it is that you want to say, and lets get this over with. I can’t stand it when you act like I’m not even in the room. It makes me feel like I’m five-years-old again and I’ve just pinched Dawn or something.”

Giles smiled weakly and replaced his glasses. “Well, Buffy, I don’t really know what to say. I’m…,” he hesitated, “I can’t say that I’m pleased about what has developed between you and Spike.” He lifted his eyes to the vampire across the room, noting that Spike was looking at him narrowly, as if waiting to find fault. “But I suppose you know that. And, well, frankly, I’m embarrassed about my behavior yesterday. Regardless of whom you’re dating I am still your watcher and—I placed you and Xander and, well, everyone in danger yesterday because I allowed myself to be so petty.” The watcher sighed. “I owe you an apology, Buffy.”

Spike coughed quite loudly.

“And you as well, Spike,” Giles said, looking at him. “I am not happy that Buffy has begun another relationship with a vampire, but—and it amazes me even as I say this—you are, in reality, much more dependable than Angel.”

Buffy’s eyes widened and even Spike looked a little surprised at his proclamation. “Is that so?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral as he approached Buffy and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. When his hand met her shoulder, the auras around them instantly brightened, causing Giles to blink, but he kept his eyes locked on Spike’s.

“Well, your behavior of late suggests that our understanding of Angel’s double personality was perhaps a bit simplistic.” Giles took a deep breath before he continued. “You must understand just how unusual you are, Spike. It is very clear to everyone, even me, that you love Buffy. It was also clear that you loved Drusilla. You are capable of love. That is not terribly common among soulless beings.”

“Yes, it bloody well—” Spike’s anger was coming through.

“No,” Giles said firmly. “It isn’t. And you know that. Why do you think Drusilla never seemed to share your…constancy?” Giles lowered his eyes as Spike’s cheek muscles clenched. “I’m not saying that vampires do not experience a close equivalent of love. I’m not even sure how many humans actually approach the depth of devotion you seem to be capable of.” Giles paused again as Buffy and Spike looked at him in bewilderment.

“What are you saying, Giles?” Buffy asked, her voice full of amazement and her eyes wide.

“I’m saying that Spike has made me wonder exactly how connected love is to having a soul. I had previously presumed it to be a prerequisite, especially after witnessing first hand the difference between Angel and Angelus, but now…” Giles looked at Spike. “I don’t understand this at all, frankly. So much of what I know says that it should be impossible.” Giles shifted his gaze to Buffy. “I’m just trying to explain that this is mind boggling, Buffy. And I’m sure you know that. But, if I’m honest with myself, I know that Spike won’t hurt you. And I’m not just saying that because I believe in the chip. I do think it has given both of you the chance to realize something about each other, but now that you have…made that realization, I don’t think it’s necessary to keep him from hurting you.”

“You’re damn right it’s not,” Spike said, his voice earnest but not angry.

“Does this mean that we’re…ok?” Buffy asked, her voice small as she looked up at her watcher. “Because I think I might be able to help answer these questions. Or at least suggest a place to start.”

Giles looked at her in surprise, but nodded first, smiling at her. “Of course we’re ok, Buffy. I’m sorry it took nearly getting us all killed for me to realize how stubborn I was being. It’s just, sometimes I tend to act more like a…father than a watcher, and it makes me do stupid things and—”

“Don’t stop,” Buffy said, standing up and hugging him. “Well, stop doing stupid things,” she smiled against his chest. “But don’t stop acting like my father. You’re by far the best one I’ve got.”

Tears came to Giles’ eyes as he hugged her and he was momentarily unable to speak. After several moments Spike coughed again, and the pair pulled away.
“So, Buff,” Spike said, his eyes light at the happiness he saw in hers, “what do you mean you can help answer these questions?”

“Oh,” Buffy brightened further. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you about this,” she said, looking at both of them apologetically. “But with everything else, well, I just kinda forgot,” Buffy said, giggling nervously. “But, um, anyway—while we were heading towards that crypt where you all were being kept, this weird thing happened. We were just walking along when suddenly I got sucked into…um, my memory I guess? I’m not sure how to describe it. But I was inside my head watching the memory and I could hear my old thoughts.”

“What was the memory?” Giles asked.

“The first time I saw her,” Spike answered, his eyes wide with surprise. Buffy and Giles looked at him suddenly.

“How did you know that?” Buffy asked, her hand reaching out for Spike’s.

“Because the same thing happened to me,” Spike said, his shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it either, but it was just Dru. Or at least I thought it was just Dru. I was, you know, trying to convince her that I was evil so she’d unchain me,” he looked to Giles for understanding and his fellow Englishman nodded. “So, she did her whammy on me, you know ‘Be in me’ and all that jazz, and suddenly I was in the Bronze, watching you.”

“But why did I feel it?” Buffy asked, and then her eyes widened. “Oh, the connection thing. I didn’t realize it was that…”

“Strong,” Spike finished. “Neither did I. I had no idea you had the same experience.” He paused. “You couldn’t hear my thoughts could you?” he asked anxiously. “Because if you could, I’m sorry pet, I was still bad then and I—”

“It’s ok Spike. I couldn’t hear them, I heard mine,” Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “What were you thinking?”

“Um,” Spike lowered his eyes sheepishly. “Well, I, um…”

“He wanted to turn you, Buffy,” Giles said, his voice flat as the two looked at him in surprise. “Now I understand why Drusilla got so angry. Apparently she could read his thoughts while she controlled him, and she learned that Spike, well, Spike liked you when he first saw you. Wanted you to join him and Drusilla.”

“Hmmph,” Buffy snorted. “Like I’d share you with her,” she said, her voice sarcastic.

Spike looked at her, surprised that was all she had to say, and then he smiled softly. “That’s what Dru said.”

Buffy’s eyes widened at his comment, but then softened again. “Well, at least she’s not completely crazy,” she said, smiling softly at Spike. “She knows a good thing when she’s got one.”

Giles was very disturbed by the turn this conversation was taking and he looked anxiously at his watch, wondering where they others were. Getting donuts, no doubt. Then he remembered something. “Wait, Buffy. You said that this memory would help us answer some of the questions about Spike. I don’t understand how it helps, other than—now that we know you shared the flashback—we know how deeply connected you two are.”

“Oh!” Buffy said. “You’re right. But, it wasn’t the fact that I had the memory that made me realize something. It was what I learned from the memory.” Giles and Spike stared at her perplexedly and she sighed. “See, the first time Spike saw me I had no idea that he was there.” She turned to face Giles and looked at him meaningfully. “I’d always thought he’d just failed to trigger my spidey-sense, but that wasn’t it. I was able to watch the memory this time, knowing what my former self didn’t know. And I felt Spike. The thing was, he didn’t feel like a regular vampire. My body or my spidey-sense—something—recognized him.” She paused, switching her focus to Spike. “At the time,” she hesitated, “I thought it was Angel because it felt the same—I mean, my body reacted the same way it did when he was around.” She looked at Spike worriedly, hoping the comparison wouldn’t upset him. “Then I went outside and you were there and being all menacing and I never knew…”

Giles took his glasses off again. “So, you’re saying that you’ve reacted to Spike differently from the very beginning?”

“Apparently,” Buffy sighed. “Anyway, Anya said it probably meant that something had predicted or ‘prophesied’ our meeting. Like it was meant to happen or something, so our bodies knew each other even though we didn’t.”

Spike looked at her with surprise. “That would certainly help explain why we could never beat each other—we were always able to predict the other’s next move. And why,” he smiled slightly at Buffy, “I wanted to turn you. ‘Cause I hadn’t wanted to turn another chit in quite some time. It always upset Dru—she’d get jealous. But I remember thinking that you were worth it. That I didn’t care if Dru got mad or not.”

Buffy blushed. “Thanks,” she said hesitantly. “I guess.”

“Well, this is certainly intriguing,” Giles said just as the Scooby gang came through the door, complete with two boxes of donuts and an angry looking Halfrek, whose hands were tied to a sort of leash that Anya repeatedly yanked in an effort to direct Halfrek. Dawn waved at Buffy, but resisted hugging her in deference to their possibly conflicting energy sources.

“What’s intriguing?” Xander asked, his voice cheery as he bit into a powdered donut and sent powder flying up in a storm around his head.

Quickly, Spike and Buffy filled Xander and the others in on their shared memory, ruining Xander’s good mood in the process.

Anya, however, was still perky. “So you think I’m right then?” she asked, smiling broadly. “You think that this means Spike and Buffy were meant to meet?”

Giles tilted his head slightly to the left, hesitating. “Well, I’ll admit that it seems likely. And as Spike was just observing, it would help explain their apparent inability to kill each other. I still suspect that that is primarily because they are so evenly matched, but it does make me wonder.”

Spike and Buffy smiled at the phrase ‘evenly matched,’ each reflecting silently on all the different ways they were each other’s equals.

“Unfortunately,” Giles continued, “I’m not sure this brings us any closer to understand the spell’s new higher purpose. While I suspect Anya is right that Spike and Buffy were intended to meet, there is no way of knowing whether there were any similar prophecies regarding the result of their meeting. We will certainly need to look into it, but right now I believe we should focus on Buffy and Spike’s new status as,” the watcher paused, regarding them with squinted eyes, “walking light bulbs.”

“Actually, if I were you I’d do anything to make sure that higher purpose isn’t reached,” Anya said nonchalantly as she tidied the shop.

“What?!” came from the mouth of everyone else in the room as they all eyed Anya in extreme surprise.

“What, What?” she responded, looking at them in frustration.

“Ahn,” Xander said, his voice impatient, “we have to finish the spell—it’s the only way to return things to normal and make daytime safe again. Besides, we know it’s nothing bad any more. Buffy doesn’t have to die or anything,” he finished cheerfully as he turned and smiled at Buffy.

“I know she doesn’t,” Anya said, her voice think with frustration. “Trust me. I understand. My point is that, since the ultimate goal of the original, untainted spell was Buffy’s death, the reversal is pursuing something that, cosmically speaking, means the exact opposite of that. That means that, while the spell is still in progress, Buffy can’t die. It’s impossible.” Anya nodded emphatically as she finished her last sentence, enjoying it as she watched jaws drop around the room.

“You mean the spell will protect her?” Giles asked, his voice hopeful.

“Exactly,” Anya said. “She can’t die from any supernatural means now. She could still get hit by a car, of course, but no vampire can kill her because they’re the ones who cast the tainted spell.”

Buffy’s eyes widened at the implications of Anya’s explanation. “So…I can’t die now? But…”

“This is fantastic Buffy,” Giles said, stepping towards his charge eagerly. “We can ensure your safety permanently now. All we have to do is ensure the spell can’t be completed.”

“But, but,” Buffy hesitated, wanting desperately to join Giles in his enthusiasm and begin planning the rest of her life. “But I can’t,” she finally managed, resignedly. “Giles, I can’t. I won’t. It’s not fair to the rest of the world that vampires are allowed out during the day. So many more people will die because of that. I couldn’t live with myself. We have to finish the spell and return things to the natural order.”

Spike was standing off to the side—his heart torn between his agreement with Buffy’s assessment and his own desire to agree with Giles and make sure she would live as long as possible.

Giles’ face fell, as did Willow’s. Xander began sputtering while chewing a donut—sending powdered crumbs everywhere. Only Tara and Anya remained undisturbed, each implicitly accepting the slayer’s reasoning.

Slowly, Giles nodded too, recognizing Buffy’s wisdom. “I suppose you’re right, Buffy,” he said, smiling wanly. “I very much wish you weren’t, however.”

“Right? What do you mean right?” Xander asked, his voice loud. “This shouldn’t even be up for debate. There’s no way Buffy can just throw away a chance at a—”

“It’s not a real chance, Xander,” Buffy said, standing up and looking in her friend’s eyes. “The price would be too high and it just wouldn’t be fair. Besides,” she tried to smile at him, saddened by the pain in his eyes, “if things stay this way, I’ll never be able to sleep. With vampires on the prowl at all times it would be kind of hard to justify keeping even the smallest part of my life for myself. And how could I take care of Dawn? It’s just not possible, Xand. I’m sorry.” Buffy’s voice was somber as she watched first anger and then grudging acceptance pass over Xander’s face.

“It’s not fair,” he said, slumping into a chair.

“Bloody right, it’s not fair,” Spike said as his cheeks clenched. He relaxed somewhat when he saw the pain on Buffy’s face. “But fair’s not important,” he said, looking at her. “At least not in the long run. And besides, Buffy’s right. She’s got even less of a chance at a normal life with the world in chaos like this.”

The scoobies sat together silently, agreeing against their wills.

“Well then,” Willow said, finally breaking the silence, “I think it’s time to figure out how to finish the spell. I for one would like this to be over. I’m missing a lot of class,” the redhead sad, nodding vigorously as though she still cared about class.

Slowly, everyone in the Magic Box resumed research and the room began to look just as it had the day before prior to Buffy and Spike’s arrival, but this time it was brigthened by the presence of the blonde pair--their aura's shining steadily as they read.

*******************

“This is all your fault, Dru,” Harmony whined as she attempted to kick the brunette vampire who was chained to the wall several feet away from Harmony, who was also chained. “Why didn’t you recognize Halfrek? I mean, jeez, no wonder Spike left you if you can’t even remember basic details about his life before you. Come on, she was blondie bear’s first love and you didn’t even notice.”

“At least he told me about her,” Drusilla said, her voice defeated. She was hanging against the chains, using them to support herself. Harmony had been whining and yelling for hours and Drusilla’s mind was turning to mush (well, maybe mushier mush). “Spike doesn’t think you’re worth the effort to dump, Barbi. You’re just too stupid to notice.”

Clapping came from across the dimly lit cave. “I am impressed Vampire,” D’Hoffryn said as he nodded at Drusilla. “You are suddenly coherent. Perhaps being chained agrees with you.”

“Being chained is only fun when Spike does it,” Harmony insisted, clearly unaware that her announcement was a bit of a non sequitur. She was surprised when Drusilla suddenly vamped and began fighting her chains as she tried to reach Harmony.

“I got him those chains in Paris,” she snarled before relaxing back into the chains’ support and glaring at D’Hoffryn as he laughed. “They were fore the puppies,” she added, whimpering.

“I do not understand this obsession with the vampire with strange hair. He is strong, yes, but not terribly large, and the hair makes him look stupid. Besides, he has been working with the slayer,” D’Hoffryn shook his head at the two women he had chained to the wall. “You should want to kill him.”

“Well, we can’t do anything now, can we?” Harmony spat. “Thanks to your stupid Halfrek. You really ought to control your minions more, D’Hoffy. I certainly keep mine in line, I—”

“Do NOT call me D’Hoffy!” the demon yelled, fury flashing in his eyes. “And as for Halfrek, the humans have captured her. I am sure she will help them figure out the spell’s new purpose once she understands that the slayer is protected by it. We will have our chance, but we must wait,” D’Hoffryn said, pacing in front of the women. “And until then, you will remain chained, but if your conversation does not become more agreeable I will gag you as well.”

“What are you going to do to us?” Harmony asked, her voice suddenly full of worry.

“I do not know yet,” D’Hoffryn replied. “I should just kill you now, but…I need your help in retrieving Halfrek. She may have ruined the spell, but she is still one of my best vengeance girls, especially now that Anyanka has left us.” D’Hoffryn shook his head with regret. “There are too many humans for me to attempt a rescue on my own because I cannot simply destroy them from a distance.”

“Oh,” Harmony said. “But I don’t like Halfrek. Do I have to help save her?”

***************************************
**************

Spike had anticipated Buffy’s inability to sit still and he had waited for the telltale signs from her body that she was becoming too bored to function. When her foot had, inevitably, begun to tap a quick rhythm on the floor he had immediately suggested patrolling. And so here they were, walking through one of Sunnydale’s twelve cemeteries as the sun set.

“Don’t usually get to see these places before dark,” Spike commented. “In the daylight they’re not half bad—especially the old ones. I like all the elaborate headstones and mausoleums.”

Buffy smiled at him. “Making aesthetic comparisons involving headstones—wow, you really are a vampire,” she teased. Her tone was light. So far they’d only seen Clem—a strange looking demon whom Spike had insisted was completely harmless. Buffy had agreed with him when she’d observed the bag of Bugles under one arm and another of Doritos tucked away in a shopping bag.

“Whoa there Slayer. You used a big word. Are you sure your pretty little head can handle sayin’, ‘aesthetics,’” Spike responded, smirking and enjoying their banter.

“ ‘Aesthetic’ is not a big word,” Buffy responded petulantly, pretending to pout. “It only has,” she stopped to count the letters, “nine letters.”

“OOOO,” Spike waived his hands in the air as he mockingly pretended to be dazzled by her glow, “you can spell it too. Be still my heart.”

“Hey!” Buffy’s pout was a bit more sincere this time. “No need to go around making fun of the barely twenty-year-old who hasn’t had over one hundred years to sit around and read whenever she likes. Hello, I was chosen when I was sixteen, it’s not my fault—”

Realizing he’d hit a sore spot unintentionally, Spike quickly whirled to face the woman he’d been walking next to. He stopped her by placing his hands on her shoulders. Looking earnestly into her face, he said, “Buffy, stop. I was just teasing. And that was a reference to your habitual abuse of the English language—not your unfinished education. Relax, bit.”

“You think I’m stupid,” Buffy responded in her small voice, while kicking herself for being so insecure. That’s it Buffy, be a baby. He’s gonna love that. After all those years with crazy Drusilla, do you think he wants another babbling woman who can’t function without his reassurances? Stupid Buffy.”

Looking at his golden Buffy, Spike saw that her aura was fading a bit and fluttering in stops and starts as her confidence visibly drained. He ached, knowing that he’d accidentally caused this. He wasn’t used to insecure Buffy—especially when that the insecurity didn’t lead straight to anger. Quickly, he gathered her up and pressed her to his chest. “I could never think you’re stupid, Buffy. Never. There are all sorts of ways to be smart—and you’re absolutely right that you haven’t had time to do it like Red has. But that doesn’t mean you can’t. Besides, I know you’re smart.”

“How?” Buffy asked, her voice muffled against his chest so that he more felt than heard the word.

“Several reasons. First, I don’t fall in love with stupid women. And before you say it,” he looked down at her grinning, “I wasn’t in love with Harmony so that doesn’t count. And I know Dru was crazy, but she wasn’t stupid. Second, I listen to you Buffy,” he said, his voice growing more serious again. “You can always draw interesting parallels between things and you aren’t afraid to ask questions and when you ask them, they’re always good. You’re a teacher’s dream, pet, because when you get interested in something, you just latch on. Why do you think Red likes you? And the Watcher?”

Buffy smiled against his chest, “So, what you’re saying is that I can’t be stupid because smart people like me?” She was teasing, but Spike rolled his eyes in frustration.

“Buffy! Don’t be a silly—” Spike began in his irritated voice, as he started to step away so that he could gesticulate in frustration more emphatically. But Buffy stopped him, reaching her arms around his neck and kissing him softly, allowing the kiss to deepen slowly until he was lifting her up and she was wrapping her legs around his waist.

When they finally pulled away, Buffy smiled into his now lust-filled eyes. “Thank you,” she said as she kissed him quickly on the nose.

“I mean it Buffy,” Spike said, as he slowly allowed her to lower to the ground. “That’s one of the things I love about you. It’s one of the reasons I want to keep you around for as long as possible. I want to teach you things,” he said softly, still keeping her pressed against him.

“Oh,” Buffy said, pretending to be surprised, “so now you’re one of the smart people, huh?”

Spike’s response was to begin tickling the girl, laughing as she shrieked and wriggled against him. “Not wise to tease a vampire who knows your most sensitive spots, pet.”

“All right, all right,” Buffy said, gasping for air. “Truce.”

Slowly, Spike stepped away, raising his hands in the air as a sign of peace. “Ok. Ok. What do you say to heading back home, Buffy? I don’t think there’s anything out here. And tickling has reminded me of some other things I wanted to do,” he said, smirking as he gave her is best leer.

Buffy thought happily for a moment. Hmm? Patrol or sex with Spike? How will I ever decide? Smiling broadly, she said, “Home!” and turned on her heel to head in the appropriate direction.

Spike waited several seconds before continuing after her, running up suddenly so that he could catch her by surprise and tickle her some more. She’s absolutely adorable when she laughs.

****************


Riley could see the pair laughing as they made their way through the cemetery. He’d been out on his own patrol when he heard Buffy laugh and then shriek. Riley stalked them as they walked hurriedly home, holding hands and laughing softly. He couldn’t hear their conversation, but from time to time the two blondes would stop and kiss each other for long minutes that made Riley’s stomach churn. At this rate they’ll be home by sunrise.

He wasn’t sure why he was following them. Both Colonel Lewis and Buffy had made it very clear that he was not to go any where near Spike again, but he couldn’t help himself. I’m just looking out for Buffy, he told himself, though at this point he knew it was really more about Spike than Buffy because Buffy was currently beyond his reach. Peroxide bastard thinks he can have what should be mine. If I could just get him away from her I could stake him and then Buffy wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. And eventually, she’d realize that Spike was meant to die.

His fists clenched and unclenched slowly as he watched them enter the house. He had noticed they were glowing, but was surprisingly uninterested in what that might mean. What matters is getting Spike away from her. He can’t have her. When he saw bobbing lights appear in the window of Buffy’s room he forced himself to leave. Don’t need to watch that again, as he tried to forget how happy Buffy had looked whenever she was with Spike.

He began to walk away from the house, wandering down Revello as he made his way back to HQ. He was long overdue to return from his patrol, but he doubted Lewis would care at this point. His commander was treating Riley dismissively and Riley felt as though it was only a matter of time before he would be demoded for his attack on Spike. Just means that next time, I have to get the chip. Then they won’t care how I got it.

He dwelled on fantasy scenarios involving a dusted Spike and an apologetic Buffy as he walked, too absorbed to notice the two sets of footsteps that fell in behind him.

“Well, what do we have here?” Drusilla asked Riley’s bulky back, her voice bordering on a cackle. “A human pining after the slayer? How amusing”

Riley whirled, surprised by the voice as well as what it had said. “Who are you?” he asked suspiciously as a light went off somewhere in his head. I’ve seen her somewhere before. After glaring at the brunette and looking her up and down, his eyes settled on the blonde standing next to her, and then he smiled. “Harmony?” he asked, his voice obviously choking back laughter. “What are you doing here?”

Blushing furiously, Harmony tried to look scary. “We’re hear to kidnap you because D’Hoffryn says that—”

“Shhhh!” Drusilla hissed, holding a finger to her mouth. “Barbi must be quiet or mommy will be unhappy. Now is not the time for little girls to whisper mommy’s secrets.”

“Huh?” Riley said, confusion evident on his countenance. “This is your mom? Your mom’s a vampire?”

Harmony remained silent, per Dru’s request, and began walking towards Riley as Dru cackled again. “No. I am not her mother. But she is my dolly. And dollies always call their owners ‘mommy.’”

“Huh?” Riley said again. “Dolly? What are you talking—”

“Gotcha!” Harmony yelled as her hand attempted to wrap around Riley’s bicep, but couldn’t make it around.

It as enough though. With a clap, the three of them vanished into the night, leaving a smoky spot on the sidewalk.

**********************

“Mmmmm, I have waited all day for this,” Buffy said as she slowly crawled up Spike’s naked body licking and nipping as she went. “I know that Faith always said that patrolling made us horny, but I think that research may be—”

“What?” Spike leaned up on his elbows to look at her. He’d been watching her progress up his body with avid attention, his eyes a swirl of blue, but now his trademark smirk was reemerging. “Faith said what?”

Buffy blushed immediately. Damn it, I never meant to tell anyone that. “Oh, nothing. Just slayer stuff. Anyway, I thought we were doing something here, mister.” She was trying to distract him.

“And that we are,” Spike answered as he quickly pulled her up his length and then flipped them, placing his weight on her. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you tell me about what you just said.” Keeping his eyes locked with hers he slowly made his way to her breasts, leaving open, wet kisses down her collarbone. Taking one nipple in his mouth he began to play with the other with his fingertips. He smiled against her breast when she gasped and arched into him.

Buffy gasped again with irritation rather than pleasure when he suddenly let go, lifting himself off of her so that none of him was touching. “What are you doing?” she whimpered, trying to reach up for him, but Spike quickly had both her hands clasped above her head.

His eyes glittered as he took in her body as it lay stretched out beneath him. “I believe I asked you a question,” he said, as his eyes continued their survey of Buffy’s skin.

For Buffy, his gaze was almost the same thing as his fingers and she began to grow wet just watching him look at her. Squirming a bit beneath him as she began to feel the aching need in her core that told her she would not be able to hold out very long against his refusal, she said, “That’s not fair,” in a little voice and pouted, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to resist it.

Spike’s eyes widened at the sight of her bottom lip and he breathed heavily and unnecessarily. “Cor, Buffy,” he said, his hands hovering above her as he clearly began to lose will power, “that’s not fair either.” Slowly, he regained his composure and his eyes began to dance as he looked at her wriggling form.

“Spike,” she gasped. “Please!”

Spike shook his head slowly and reached a hand down to run down his erection. Leaning back, he began pumping it in front of her, keeping his eyes locked. “Can’t do that pet,” he said. “Not till you tell me what Faith said.”

Buffy’s eyes were riveted on Spike’s hand as it slowly but strongly stroked and pumped up and down his cock. Her eyes widened as he skimmed the pre-cum off the top and used it as a lubricant, watching the skin grow slightly shiny. Her mouth watered. “Tha—That’s my job,” she said, her voice shaky.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been doing it myself off and on for over one hundred years now. I’m sure I could manage.” Spike’s eyes widened as he realized Buffy might actually like watching him do this. Well, that won’t work. Quickly, he stopped, letting his hands fall to the side as he remained out of her reach. Buffy’s eyes returned to his. “Please pet,” he said. “I’m not asking to make fun of you, I just want to kno—”

“It was Faith’s theory,” Buffy said, sighing as she reached out for him. He responded by slowly returning to her as she spoke. “She said that slaying always made her hungry and horny and that when I accepted that, then I would actually have some fun.”

Slowly, Spike took her nipple back in his mouth and Buffy watched him, stuttering as she continued. “B-But, see, I kind of already knew that—that it made me horny—I just didn’t go around advertising it.”

“Yes you do,” Spike said, his voice low and growly. “Why do you think I like following you on patrol so much?” he asked, letting one nipple pop from his mouth before he took the other.

“What?” Buffy asked, her eyes widening.

“Come on, pet. You know I can smell you. That’s not a new thing. I’ve always been able to. I think it’s why I couldn’t kill you that first night at the school. Your smell was intoxicating—like honeysuckles and cinnamon and vanilla and a bunch of other things all rolled in one.” Spike brought his face even with hers. “I love that smell. Especially when,” he suddenly ran a finger down the length of her folds, making her gasp, “I’m responsible for it.” He plunged one finger and then two inside of her, fucking her with his fingers.

“Oh,” Buffy said, panting and grinding her hips against his hand. “I just—I was afraid the others wouldn’t…” her voice gave out when Spike flicked his thumb across her clit.

“Understand?” he finished for her. “Well, I do Buffy. And there’s nothing wrong with it. It makes sense, really. It’s a good way to make sure you actually enjoy your job.”

Buffy pouted. “You make it sound like I’m one of those dogs. The one’s who drooled. Except when I get what I want, I—” She cut herself off, blushing furiously.

“You what pet?” Spike said, grinning at her. “Now’s not the time to be shy,” he chuckled. “Buffy, luv, I think that—given what we’re doing and about to do—you can admit that slaying makes you wet.” He watched her bite her lower lip as she hesitated. “Fighting makes me hard,” he offered. “I used to think it was just the anticipation of feeding, but I still get hard now, even without that.” He smiled at her, taking his hand away from her slick heat and bring it up to his mouth to lick his fingers.

Buffy’s eyes went glassy as she watched. “Really?” she asked, her voice breathy.

Spike nodded slowly. “That’s why fighting with you is so much fun,” he offered as he pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “I get so hard just watching you,” he whispered in her ear, causing goose bumps to appear all over her body as she reveled in what he was telling her. “Sometimes I can barely take it and I want to just grab you and take you right there, in the cemetery.”

Buffy smiled snarkily. “Oh, is that so?” she asked, lifting her mouth to kiss the soft spot beneath his ear. Spike moaned softly at the feel of warm breath on him as she kissed him and then whispered, “Tell me.”

Pulling away slightly, he looked at her perplexedly. “Tell you what?”

“About how you imagine taking me,” she said, keeping her eyes locked on his even as a flush rose to her cheeks.

Spike smiled softly. “Well, I’m afraid it’s not terribly romantic, luv. It usually involves bending you over a tombstone and making you scream my name,” he looked at her sheepishly, afraid she wouldn’t appreciate the image.

“Does there have to be a tombstone?” she asked, her fingers tracing the lines of his cheekbones. Spike gasped, looking at her with widened eyes. Buffy giggled, leaning in to kiss him, loving his reaction. “You could have just asked, you know,” she said as she began to sit up.

Spike seemed to have lost all power of speech as he watched her push him away slightly so she could turn over, resting on her hands and knees, her back to him. She offered up her now dripping entrance. Spike’s cock jumped at the sight of her round ass hovering in front of him. “Buffy,” his voice was soft, but full of warning, “if we do this, luv, my demon, it um…it might come out.”

Turning her head so she could see him over her shoulder, Buffy looked at him, her eyes glassy with desire. “You promise?”

Spike’s breath hitched as he looked at her. “But Buffy, I—”

Holding his gaze, Buffy said, “Spike, I love you. It’s part of you. I trust you not to hurt me, but I also know that your demon needs…things.” Her gaze lowered for a second as she finished the sentence, but the she looked up at him again. “I want to please you Spike. All of you. The way you do for me.” She paused for a moment, still watching him. “Please,” she said, before he could protest.

Spike’s demon was already struggling to emerge, to take control as it became aware of the beautiful woman offering herself to him. He kept it down, along with the anxiety he felt at Buffy’s request. What if I hurt her? he wondered, worriedly.

“Don’t worry,” she said again. “If it hurts, I’m completely capable of stopping you. And there’s the chip. It should warn you. Let’s just try.” She smiled at him encouragingly.

Taking deep breaths that suddenly seemed necessary, Spike approached her from behind, placing his hands on her hips he gripped them, forcing her to tilt them at a slight angle. Slowly, he brought his cock up to rub against her entrance, brushing it up and down the length of her heat as he waited. Reaching around, he found her clit and rubbed it slightly, using his hand and his cock to masturbate her until a fresh gush of wetness began to trickle down her thighs.

Looking at her arched back and the fall of her golden hair and the roundness of her ass, Spike could barely function. “You are so beautiful, Buffy,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”

She mewed, bucking her hips against his hand, searching for his cock. “Please, Spike. Please. Fuck me.”

That was all Spike could take. Quickly, he rammed the length of his shaft into her in one swift motion. Forcing her to reach one hand out to grab the headboard for support. Buffy gasped. She almost came just with the first thrust.

Spike waited a moment, suffering from the same problem himself. She was even tighter from this angle, and as he waited for her to adjust to him he leaned forward slightly, cupping a breast and twirling the nipple through his fingers. “You feel so good,” he growled into her ear, causing a new wave of juice to flow out of her, coating his cock.

Buffy mewed in response, unable to form a logical sentence. After waiting another few moments, she decided to do something—slowly, she began to pull herself away from him, causing his cock to slide out as she went. Gasping at the sensation, she quickly thrust backwards, forcing him back in.

Spike watched with surprise as Buffy took the lead, but it only took one thrust to bring out his demon. Quickly, he grabbed her hips, holding them still. “That’s my job,” he said, growling at her. Buffy turned to look at him again, and smiled into his amber eyes, undisturbed by the lumps on his face.

Without warning he was suddenly slamming in and out of her, making Buffy quake each time he rammed himself back in. It only took a couple strokes before she started to come—the shockwaves of her orgasm causing her entire body to tremble. Spike held her up as he pounded into her. He was no longer in any immediate danger of coming. Now, he was too focused on making her come. His senses were heightened beyond even their normal abilities and he thought he could feel each and everyone one of her muscles as she contracted and fluttered around him.

“Oh…Buffy…so tight...and warm…so tight…can’t believe…feels so good…fuck…that’s it…come for me…yes, pet…come for me…squeeze me…make me fuck you…” His naughty words streamed over her head only serving to make her even more aroused. She seemed unable to stop orgasming, but when she heard Spike say ‘squeeze me’ she responded, clenching her inner muscles around him.

Spike half growled, half yelled when she did that. Removing one of his hands from her hip, he reached out and grabbed her hair roughly. Quickly, without losing his rhythm he pulled her up, bringing her back to press against his chest as they both knelt upright on the bed. He wrapped one arm around her torso to help her stay up and quickly slid the other one to her clit.

“Ahh!” Buffy gasped when his fingers hit her nub and began flicking it back and forth roughly. “Spike…oh my God…so good…don’t stop…don’t stop…don’t stop,” she chanted, completely lost in sensation. She began to come again, bucking against him. Concentrating she forced herself to squeeze him in the midst of her orgasm—pushing Spike over the edge.

With a snarl he began slamming into her harder than he had ever intended to, but Buffy made no effort to stop him and his chip remained surprisingly inactive. She focused on the next, even bigger orgasm that began to shake through her body only seconds after the last subsided. “Spike!” she yelled, reaching one hand back to reach his hair, unconsciously forcing his face towards her exposed neck.

Unable to resist any longer, Spike bent his head and pushed his teeth through her skin, taking deep pulls of her blood as she orgasmed and immediately reaching his own climax. When Spike bit into her, Buffy’s orgasm began anew and she felt as though her entire body was exploding. Opening her eyes wide she realized the room around them was bright enough to make her eyes hurt. They were glowing brighter than they ever had before. She could feel Spike’s cock jerking inside her, spewing his cum into her as her pussy clenched him, trying to pull him even further in. Spike growled her name as he pulled his teeth out of her neck and the two rode out the last seconds of their orgasms together. She blinked as she screamed “Spike” one last time before the two of them collapsed on her bed.

Neither moved for several seconds, but then Spike—having returned to his human face—quickly began to lick the marks he’d made, stopping the bleeding. Buffy remained incapacitated beneath him as she whimpered her contentment into the pillows. They would have fallen asleep without moving, but slowly, Buffy realized that she would lose circulation if Spike stayed on top of her. Mewing, she rolled slightly, toppling him off of her and causing him to grunt in mild indignation. Quickly, she reached for him, snuggling against his body as they slipped into a deep sleep.




When Buffy woke up, she knew something was wrong. She was alone in bed—there was no hard chest pressed to her back. She was surprised and almost cried because she’d never felt so alone in her life.

“Spike!” She sat up, tears welling in her eyes as she looked around the room. Then she saw him, seated in her vanity chair, watching her, his eyes hooded so that she couldn’t quite see them. “Spike!” she said again, launching herself at him—heedless of her nudity as she crawled into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Why aren’t you in bed? That was mean! I thought…I thought something was wrong.” Looking at him as he remained motionless, refusing to respond to her touch, her eyes widened. “Something is wrong! What is it Spike? Tell me.” She buried her head in the crook of his neck, clinging to him.

Spike looked at her panicked body as it shook in his arms. “You don’t remember do you?” he asked, unable to resist bringing one hand up to tilt her head so that he could see her face. “Because if you did…well, this wouldn’t be your reaction.”

“Remember what?” Buffy asked as her brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Spike closed his eyes, clearly in pain. I don’t know if I can take losing her, he thought. Opening them again, he looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry Buffy,” he whispered as he pointed to the almost completely healed marks on her neck. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I—I never meant to—I knew the demon would come out, but I shouldn’t have let it take over—shouldn’t have let it hurt you. I’m so sorry, pet.” Spike’s voice was choked with tears as he lowered his gaze and relaxed his arms, preparing for Buffy to leap out of them.

Buffy sat very still for a moment, looking at his defeated visage. Slowly, she titled his head towards her, mimicking his earlier motion. “You thought I didn’t remember that?” she asked, her voice soft.

Spike’s eyes widened, the blue swirling. “You mean…?”

Smiling softly, Buffy said, “Do you really think I could forget that? I mean Spike, that was—”

“Disgusting, horrible, wrong,” he offered, looking sad again. “I know Buffy, I don’t know how—”

“Let me finish my sentence Spike,” Buffy said firmly. “That was amazing. Truly amazing. I’ve never felt anything like that. I didn’t know I could.”

Spike’s eyebrow cocked in confusion. “Wait. You aren’t mad? You aren’t going to stake me? But I hurt you. I should stake myself,” he asserted, returning to his melancholy.

“You most certainly should not!” Buffy said indignantly. “No one gets to stake you but me, and I don’t want to.” Looking at him, Buffy’s heart skipped a beat. He really thinks he did something wrong. “Spike. It’s ok. You didn’t hurt me. Not one bit. In fact, I’m pretty sure I remember liking it a lot.”

Spike looked at her in pure amazement. “You liked it?” he asked, hope springing to the back of his eyes.

“You know I did, you big gallump.”

“But…I don’t understand how it happened. I mean, my chip should have gone off and…” He looked at her as though he was lost, his eyes boring into hers.

“You weren’t trying to hurt me,” Buffy said, her voice clear and strong. She was amazed by how terrified he looked. Spike was never scared. “The chip only goes off when you’re trying to hurt someone. And that wasn’t meant to hurt me. That was meant to…”

Spike managed a weak smile. “That was meant to get you off. It’s how vampires finish.” He looked at her sheepishly. “I never meant to do it to you. I just…” he was unable to finish his sentence.

“Spike,” Buffy said, looking at him, “do you remember what I said last night? That I loved all of you?”

Spike nodded warily. “Yeah, but—”

“I meant it.” Buffy watched as his eyes widened. “You’re probably right that if you’d asked to bite me first I would have said no.” Spike’s shoulders sunk. “But, I know you didn’t plan that. And I actually really liked it. So from now on, how about we just try to warn me in advance.”

Spike looked at her incredulously. “You mean—You’ll let me do that again?” The joy seeping into his voice created an ache in Buffy’s stomach as the realization of how much he cared about her sent adrenalin through her for the umpteenth time.

“Not just that. I mean,” she said, as she stood up and began pulling him towards the bed, “that I’ll ask you to do that again.”

Spike looked at her as his aura began to throb with ever increasing brightness. “Are you sure, pet? I don’t want you to do this because you think I want it. I mean, I do, but I don’t want that to be the only reason.”

“It’s not.” Buffy asserted as she lay back and pulled Spike to her. “I like it too.” She paused for a moment. “I love you, Spike. And I trust you. And I want you to be as relaxed with me as I am with you.” Her voice was small as she looked into his eyes earnestly. “Before you, I couldn’t—I hadn’t—there was no way for me to just let go. I had to be so careful, you know? Careful not to hurt Riley. I don’t want you to do that with me. I don’t need you to and it will make you crazy at worst and resentful at best. So Spike,” she snuggled closer to him, “do what you want to. Warn me first when you can, but don’t freak out when you can’t.”

Spike looked down at the woman he loved in disbelief. He didn’t know what to do. Most of him was ecstatic—relieved that he wouldn’t have to monitor himself constantly. But a small part still worried about hurting her. “But, Buffy, what if I hurt you? I don’t think I can—”

“I’ll stop you,” she said evenly, her voice muffled against his chest. “I can do that. Just because I love you and everything—it doesn’t mean I can’t stop you from hurting me or anyone else if that happened.” She looked at him significantly. “I need you to love me Spike. Not protect me from nebulous bad things. I can take care of myself.”

Spike smiled as he bent his head to kiss the top of hers. “Nebulous, huh? Is that another smart-girl word?”

“Shut up, Spike,” Buffy said, before taking advantage of his prone position and beginning a tickling assault.

The two blondes continued to writhe and giggle on the bed as they waited for the alarm to go off and force them to begin the day. In the end, Spike won because Buffy’s laughter began to inhibit her ability to breathe. “Truce” she called, as she collapsed against him. “Those of us who need oxygen simply cannot continue.”

“All right, pet,” Spike said, “let’s just rest for a while. We fell asleep so fast last night, we didn’t get to cuddle and that’s one of my favorite parts.”

Looking up at him with laughter in her eyes, Buffy said, “You like to cuddle? It’s one of your favorite parts? Geez Spike, maybe you are the perfect man.”

“Hey!” he said, feigning indignation. “There was a debate about that?”

“Ego much?” Buffy responded, but then her voice softened. “I do think you might be perfect for me,” she ventured, “But something tells me most women would be a little put off by a man who desperately wants to be Billy Idol.”

Spike’s cheeks clenched in real indignation now. “I do not want to be Billy Idol,” he said, his voice barely above a whine. “I just…like his style, is all.” He looked at Buffy’s dubious countenance. “Oh, bugger off Miss Shampoo Commercial. At least I’m not obsessed with my hair.”

“Yes you are,” Buffy said, looking at him with surprise. “You are so obsessed with your hair. I’ve never seen any roots, which means you must dye it every…what? Two, three weeks?” She grinned as Spike nodded sheepishly. “And ‘Miss Shampoo Commercial’? What’s that about? I’m not obsessed with my hair. I just, you know, take care of it. I’d cut it tomorrow though, if the whim struck me.”

“Don’t you dare!” Spike’s fervor surprised her. “I love your hair. Don’t you dare cut it. I love the way it bounces when…” He smiled devilishly at her as he ran his hands through said hair. “You’re my Goldilocks. Please don’t change it.”

Buffy melted against him, forever amazed by the effect his compliments had on her. I don’t usually crumble in the face of flattery, she thought. But I could listen to Spike say things like that all day, every day for the rest of my life. “I promise not to cut it,” she said softly, kissing him on the nose. “And I never will unless you ask me to.”

“Never happen,” he said, whispering in her ear as he leaned in to kiss her. At that moment, the alarm went off. “Oh bloody hell!” he said, rolling away from her.

Buffy giggled at his frustration. “Come on, Spike. Research isn’t so bad—we just have to find out why we glow. And finish the spell. And—”

“I kind of wanted to finish something else,” Spike said naughtily, as he attempted to pull Buffy to him.

But Buffy was too fast. Evading his outreached arms easily, she jumped out of bed, making him groan when her breasts bounced. “I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to join me.” She winked at him before running out the door, still completely naked.

Spike grinned as he chased after her. “Bloody hell, woman. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

***********************
As Riley woke up his head ached and when he tried to sit up the world began spinning. He was quickly brought back to the ground, though when he realized he was chained to it with only a couple inches of wee lay to move at all. He was hungry and thirsty and his whole body was sore, as though he’d been fighting for hours. Slowly, the memories from the day before began to wash over him, ending with the moment he felt Harmony wrap her hand around him.

He tried to open his eyes again, this time remaining prone on the floor. Looking around, he realized he was in a crypt—or at least something that smelled and looked like a crypt, except…? Was that old shoelaces? He crinkled his nose at the new, unidentifiable, offensive smell.

After lying there for several minutes, he finally heard something coming from the opposite side of room. He jerked his head to the side in an effort to see what it was. His eyes widened when he saw Harmony and the brunette vamp—Mommy?—chained to the wall and nearly as immobile as he was himself.

Groaning, he sat up as much as he could with the chains, taking in the room more fully. The vamps across the room stared at him. “Where am I?” he asked.

The female vamps looked at each other, clearly debating what they should tell him. “We’re in Arashmaha,” Harmony finally answered, unable to resist Riley’s penetrating gaze. God, he’s cute. I hope we get to turn him.

“And that is?” Riley’s irritation was blatant.

“D’hoffryn’s home dimension. Right Dru?”

“Yes,” the brunette seethed. “He told us we would play with you, but he lied and cheated and brought us here instead. It’s not fair. I wanted to play with the Slayer’s toy. She has mine.”

Riley couldn’t decide if he should focus on how strange the brunette was or how threatening the word ‘play’ sounded when she said it. Looking at her, he tried to remember why she seemed so familiar. “Wait. What do you mean the slayer has your ‘toy’? What’s your name?”

Drusilla giggled. “So pugnacious. I bet he’d like to play rough.” She whimpered as she strained against her chains.

“Her name’s Drusilla,” Harmony offered helpfully. “She’s completely insane and she’s Spike’s—”

“She’s Spike’s ex,” Riley finished for her, finally remembering why Drusilla was so familiar. “There was a picture of her in the Initiative’s files. Angel or Angelus or whatever drove her crazy before he turned her, right?”

“So I’ve been told,” Harmony said, still eyeing him. Drusilla was making odd, fake barking noises as she continued to jerk against her chains, but Harmony ignored her. “D’Hoffryn has us chained like this because Dru makes me do things. She’s got psychic wammy or something. Anyway, we’re stuck here too. Arashmaha was not part of the deal.”

“What does she mean the slayer has her toy? She can’t possibly mean Spike, can she?” Riley was incredulous. He hated Spike, but he was having a hard time imagining him putting up with someone as wacky as Drusilla when the platinum vamp could barely take ten minutes of Xander when he was at his goofiest.

“That’s exactly who she means,” Harmony replied, ever helpful. “They were in love for over one hundred years or something like that. Drusilla is Spike’s sire.”

Riley scoffed. “In love? What do you mean? Vampires can’t love. They don’t have souls.”

Harmony furrowed her brow as she looked at him. “That’s a horrible thing to say,” she whined, pouting. “We certainly can love. You’re a big meanie for saying we can’t. How would you know? Besides, Buffy clearly thinks they can. Why else is she with Spike?”

“Buffy’s wrong,” Riley growled, his anger at the situation apparent, but he was thrown by Harmony’s insistence. “You can’t love without a soul,” he insisted, ignoring how much it sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“Yes you can!” Harmony squealed. “We do it all the time. It’s not like having a soul makes you all pure or something. There are lots of people with souls who do horrible things. Look at Buffy! She’s trying to take our Blondie Bear. And what’s that guy’s name? The one who ate people? Jeffrey Dahmer? He had a soul.”

Riley was going to continue to argue, but Harmony’s yelps brought Dru out of her reverie. “Be quiet Harmony. We mustn’t tell him anything. We can’t have the toy understanding anything. Be a good dolly and be quiet.”

Riley watched in amazement as Harmony’s eyes immediately glassed over and she slumped against the wall with her chains as her only support.

**********************************

Buffy was already in the shower by the time Spike reached the bathroom. He slid in behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her to him. “Bad Buffy,” he whispered in her ear. “Trying to start without me.” He slid his hands up her torso to rest on her breasts as he cupped and kneaded them, making Buffy gasp and arch her back—grinding the soft curve of her ass against him. Spike’s tongue made a clicking noise in anticipation, but Buffy turned to face him, stopping him.

“We don’t have very long Spike. We have to be at the Magic Box in half an hour.” She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him and lightly cupping his ass.

“I can do fast,” he said eagerly, attempting to lift her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. But Buffy resisted.

“I kind of had a different idea,” she said, her face flushing.

Spike raised his scarred eyebrow at her quizzically. “What’d you have in mind pet? ‘Cause whatever it is, I’m game.” He smirked at her lasciviously.

Grinning at him, she reached out and took his erection in her hand, causing him to start. Pumping it slowly, she knelt down, making her intentions clear. “Cor, Buffy,” Spike stuttered, his mind exploding at the image she was providing him. Slowly, she licked the top, flicking her tongue back and forth across it and making Spike shudder each time. Then, without warning she slid her mouth down it, taking in as much as she could. Spike noticed that she’d already learned how to take in more than she had the first time she’d done this. “You been practicing, pet?” he asked as he braced himself against the tile, watching her.

Slowly, Buffy slid her mouth back up his shaft, suckling the tip for a minute before she pulled away—her lips slightly swollen from their efforts. “Something like that,” she said ambiguously, before plunging him back into her mouth. This time she kept a fast rhythm, and soon Spike’s hips were reflexively jerking into her as he fucked her mouth. “Buffy, luv…that’s it…mmm…so warm…so wet…so good…that’s it…suck me…suck me off…make me come, baby…mmm … just how I like it…you feel so good…love you…Christ…do that again…”

Buffy had one hand wrapped around the bottom of his shaft, squeezing the part of him she couldn’t fit in her mouth and she reached the other one around to squeeze and massage his balls, causing Spike to reach down and grab her head, holding it in place as he shoved into her. “That’s it…let me fuck your mouth…make it good for me…so good…love your mouth…love your tongue…love you…Buffy.”

Buffy was surprised to find that she was becoming aroused too, his words making her almost as wet as his touch. Releasing his balls, she slowly moved her hand down her torso to her clit, rubbing it and flicking it as she continued to play with Spike’s erection. She shoved it deep in her mouth and then swirled her tongue around it, making Spike tilt his head back and groan. When he opened his eyes to see why she’d stopped holding his balls and saw Buffy touching herself he immediately felt the familiar tightening. “Christ, Buffy…you’re so beautiful…that’s it pet…make yourself come…make me come…come with me…let’s do this together…I love watching you suck me…watching you touch yourself…so hot…so—” Spike lost the use of his vocal chords as he felt Buffy’s suction strengthen. She could feel her orgasm growing and she hummed as she sucked, pushing him over the edge when her teeth gently brushed his head when she bucked as she came.

They came together, Spike growling deep in his chest as he watched Buffy swallow it all down while she writhed beneath him, enjoying her own climax.

When they were done, Buffy licked him up and down one more time before slowly standing up. Spike frowned at her reddened knees, but quickly focused on the job at hand, which was to wash Buffy’s hair.

The two lovers finished the practical aspect of the shower quickly, rushing to get to the Magic Box on time.

***********************

A/N Hey Guys! I need your help with something. I'm trying to decide whether to incllude claiming in this story--I know it's a popular theme, but I don't remember it from the show at all. Can you guys fill me in on whether it's a fan fic thing or that I just have a really bad memory? And, as always, thanks for reviewing!

Chapter 22: I Love You This Much

When Buffy and Spike arrived at the Magic Box they were only a couple minutes late but everyone was already there—even Dawn. Is she blowing off school or is it the weekend again? Buffy couldn’t remember what day it was. Everything was so muddled.

The scoobies were being ominously quiet as they waited for the blonde duo to take their seats. Grabbing a donut, Buffy looked up at Giles warily, “Mah mumh?” she asked, chewing. Looking around sheepishly, embarrassed by her bad table manners, Buffy swallowed hard, “What’s up?”

Giles cleared his throat and began cleaning his glasses all at once.

“Uh oh,” Buffy murmured, her eyes widening. “Please tell me we didn’t find another prophecy predicting my death? Because, really, I think it’s time Faith started doing her part. Shouldn’t some of them apply to her? I mean, technically, I’ve already died.” She smiled around the table, hoping someone would support her attempt at humor. No one did.

Giles cleared his throat again. “Buffy,” he paused, looking at her expectant face, “we need to talk about your relationship with Spike.” He raised his hand to stop the onslaught of words about to pour from her mouth. “I know it’s not something you wish to discuss, but I’m afraid we’ve hit a wall in terms of research. Your,” he paused and gestured vaguely at the auras around the lovers, “glowing doesn’t seem to be fading and it clearly has something to do with the spell. It also seems to symbolize your connection. We haven’t been able to get anywhere by researching the spell. So…we need you to explain your…connection.”

Xander harrumphed audibly and Buffy sank back in her chair, pouting. “This isn’t fair,” she said. “Why do we always have to have Scooby meetings about my boyfriends?” She smiled slightly when Spike’s aura visibly brightened at the word ‘boyfriend.’ “It’s not like I’m the only one who makes,” she paused, searching for the right word, “unusual, um, partners. I mean,” she smiled and tried to keep her voice light, “Xander is dating a 1000 year old ex-demon, and well Willow used to date a werewolf and now she’s well—we didn’t have a meeting when she suddenly, you know…” Buffy’s voice trailed off as she smiled at Tara. “Not that that’s bad, or anything. And—and I’m still not convinced Cordelia wasn’t a demon. Now there’s someone who deserves a Scooby meeting.”

“Hey!” Xander said, only to be kicked in the shin by Anya. “Ouch!”

“I’m sorry honey, but you didn’t yell ‘Hey’ when she referred to me as a 1000 year old ex-demon, so it seemed appropriate to react angrily when you attempted to defend the prom queen.”

Spike snickered. “She’s got a point there, whelp.”

Giles sighed. “Buffy, I understand your reluctance to discuss this and you have certainly made a very good point about the strange dating habits of your friends—”

“And you!” Buffy pointed at him accusatorily. “We didn’t have a meeting about you and my mom.” She paused and made a face. “Which is, in retrospect, probably of the good. But still!”

Giles paled and then flushed deep red. “W-Well,” he stuttered, “that was a result of supernatural powers. It—It was magic, damn it.”

“Oh, yeah, a likely excuse,” Buffy said, rolling her eyes at him. “The spell made you act like teenagers. It just so happened that your teenager self wanted to have sex with my mother on top of a police car!”

“ACK!” Dawn yelped. “What?! No one ever told me that! Oh God, oh God, I’m gonna die, die right now. Gah! The visual!”

Buffy looked at her sister sheepishly. “Sorry Dawnie. I forgot you didn’t know. Just be glad you didn’t have to read their minds when they—”

“Enough!” Giles said, his voice desperate. “We are not here to discuss past…occurrences. Right now we—”

“I’m impressed Rupert,” Spike put in, his voice rumbling with amusement. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Though I guess it wasn’t you—it was Ripper. But still, I’m impressed.”

Giles threw his hands up in the air. “Why do I bother?” he muttered as he wandered behind the Magic Box counter in search of his scotch. Who cares if it’s only 9:30 in the morning?

The scoobies all grinned at him, but Buffy looked mildly apologetic. “I’m sorry Giles. That wasn’t fair—”

“Certainly was funny,” Anya offered. “Did he give your mother many orgasms? I usually find that having sex in a public place increases the potential for orgasms. Once, when Xander and I were at the bowling alley—”

“Ahn!” Xander yelled.

“I really am sorry, Giles!” Buffy said, attempting to assert her voice over the din. “I just, you know, I’m a little tired of being scrutinized girl.” She paused and looked suspiciously around the Magic Box. “Speaking of which: Are the commandos still watching our every move?”

Everyone quieted down at the introduction of a slightly more serious subject. Emerging from behind the counter, still clutching his scotch, Giles nodded. “As far as I know. I doubt they’ve had time to pay much attention—what with dealing with all the vampire activity. I bet they’ll keep it up for a while even after all of this is over.”

“Oh.”

“Now,” Giles’ voice was thick with irritation, “may we return to the matter at hand? Or must you all persist on reminding me that I spend my days with immature, pseudo-adults who experience great pleasure while torturing me.”

“Hey!” Anya and Spike protested together. “We’re not pseudo-adults,” Anya said, pointing at herself and the vamp. “We’ve been around much longer than you have.”

“Yeah, Rupes,” Spike added, “we just have a better sense of humor is all. ‘S got nothin’ to do with age.”

Giles rolled his eyes. “Regardless, Spike, Buffy, we need to discuss this. You two—especially Buffy—cannot continue to glow indefinitely and we must put an end to vampires in the daytime. Now talk.”

Buffy blinked and made an ‘O’ shape with her mouth. “About what?” Spike offered, realizing Buffy wasn’t going to say anything.

“Your…relationship. When did it begin? Of what nature is it? Is it long term? Details, things like that.” Giles fiddled with his scotch glass uncomfortably and the rest of the scoobies—except Anya, who remained intrigued—looked determinedly at the table.

“Um…well, we’re um, we’re in love.” Buffy looked at him perplexedly. “I thought you’d gotten that already. And of course it’s long term. Hello? Serial-dater Buffy. I’m sitting right here.”

“Aye,” Spike joined in. “I’m a long-haul guy, watcher. With the unfortunate exception of Harmony, I’ve always been in it for the long-haul.” He smiled at Buffy and reached out to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. “And, to be fair, it was the longest relationship she’d ever been in.” He smirked.

“Well, that’s, um…good, I guess,” Giles responded.

“Does that mean Spike isn’t leaving any time soon?” Xander asked, making no attempt to hide the hope in his voice.

“’Not leavin’ till the Slayer says I should,” Spike said, eyeing Xander narrowly. “I don’t leave the women I love. ‘S not my style.”

“Oh yeah, Spike, you’re just the model boyfriend,” Xander said sarcastically.

“Oh, hush, Xander. You’re not helping,” Anya looked at him annoyed. “Besides, you should be happy for Buffy. She deserves someone who won’t leave. So far everyone else has.”

Buffy’s eyes flashed with hurt, causing Spike to tense up, but she nodded slightly, acknowledging Anya’s point. “She’s right, Xander. I trust Spike. I can depend on him. I already do. We all do, actually. We’ve been depending on him since he got the chip and realized he could hurt demons. He’s invaluable to us in terms of slaying, and, now,” she looked at him and smiled. “Well, now he’s even more important. And he can help keep me alive—which is something I’m pretty excited about.”

Spike swelled with pride as he listened to Buffy talk about him. Being called ‘dependable’ grated whatever small part of him was still trying to convince everyone he was a Big Bad, but over all, it was a good feeling.

Giles nodded. “Yes, yes. But we know all this. I need specifics. We all know Spike has been in love with you for some time now Buffy, but when did you begin to reciprocate. Was it before or after the spell?”

Buffy could feel Spike’s eyes boring into her, anxiously awaiting her answer. “Um…,” her brow furrowed, “I’m not sure, exactly. And also, I um, think it depends on which part of me you’re asking. If Anya’s right about why I didn’t react to Spike when we first met, then part of me may have been in love with him all along.”

Spike smiled slightly, and turned to Willow with surprise when she said, “That would explain some things.”

Buffy turned to look at her best friend. “What do you mean, Wills? Explain what?”

“Well,” Willow looked at Buffy and then Spike nervously. “I never wanted to say this at the time because I felt bad enough as it was and I figured it was just because I didn’t understand the spell very well or something but…” Willow trailed off.

“It’s ok, honey. You can tell them,” Tara encouraged the redhead.

“Well, during my will-it-so spell,” Willow ventured, “I—”

“Hah!” Xander interrupted for no apparent reason. “We should call it the ‘Willow-it so’ spell, cause, you know, you’re Willow.”

Willow looked at the brunette perplexedly. “Yeah, sure Xand, anyway, during the spell, I only said that you two should get married. There was nothing about, um, going gah-gah for each other. You should have just kept hating each other while you were engaged. You know? It shouldn’t have made you all…kissy.”

Buffy’s eyes became saucers. “You mean…we did that voluntarily? On some level, you mean?”

Spike chuckled. “That would explain why I wanted to keep kissing you after the spell was lifted,” he said, eyeing Buffy mischievously. “I thought I was just being horny, because I still thought you were really irritating, but I guess…”

“But you didn’t!” Buffy looked at him insistently. “You were disgusted and were all—‘Oh Bloody hell!’ and—and—you didn’t look like you wanted to keep kissing me.”

Spike’s grin widened. “I was pretending, luv. When you made that face and, you know, starting yelling ‘Spike lips! Lips of Spike!’ it didn’t really seem like the moment to reveal I wanted to kiss you some more.”

Buffy blushed furiously. “But, um, I was pretending too,” she said, smiling slightly at him. “Though, on a conscious level I definitely still disliked you—I um, wanted to keep kissing you too.”

The two blondes grinned at each other ridiculously as their auras brightened, illustrating how pleased they both were with the recent discovery.

“Ahem!” Giles was worried about the turn the conversation had taken. “I think that right now it is the ‘conscious level’ that we should be focusing on. Spike,” the watcher turned to look at him seriously, “when did you first know you were in love with Buffy?”

Buffy watched Spike’s cheek muscles clench and she was sure that—if he could of—he would have blushed. “I—um—know?” He looked at Giles nervously. “I, um, I hadadream,” he mumbled. The others looked at him questioningly. “Oh bloody hell! Come on. I don’t want to talk about this. ‘S embarrassing.”

Smiling evilly at him, Buffy said, “Please Spike. We need to know.” She stood up and walked over to where he was standing, taking his hand. “You had a dream? When? What was it about?”

Spike scoffed. “I’m not bloody well telling you what it was about. Not with all the soddin’ scoobies here. Let’s just say it made me come to a realization—one I was not entirely prepared for.”

Buffy smirked, having some idea what the dream must have involved. “Ok, then. When was it?”

Spike sighed. “Fine. It was that day you got Captain Cardboard worked on. By the government Doc? You remember? Harmony and I kidnapped him and tried to make him take out my chip.” He looked at Buffy as she nodded, furrowing her brow. “Well, I went to bed thinking I hated you—you know: ‘damn the slayer, always foiling my plans. She’s everywhere. She’s haunting me,’ etc. Then I wake up from the dream, and well, I thought I was off my box, but it didn’t go away. Still hasn’t.”

Buffy blinked at him. “But that was so long ago,” she said, her voice full of awe.

“Yeah. It was.” Spike’s voice was even. “And you’ll notice I haven’t done anything bad since then. Well, maybe a little with Dru, when she came back, but overall…I knew you’d never love me if I didn’t change.”

Buffy quickly wrapped her arms around Spike’s waist. “Thank you!” she said into his chest, squeezing him until she heard something crack. “Oh! Sorry!” She pulled away. “Did I hurt you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle, luv,” he said, wincing a little as he smiled at her. Then he chuckled. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as when you punch me in the nose.”

Giles watched the two interact. “And Buffy?” he queried, interrupting their banter. “When did you realize it?”

Buffy suddenly felt bad for not having realized sooner. “Well,” she looked around, “you know me. I’m not much for the deep thinking, or you know, thinking at all. Being alone with Buffy thoughts is usually not a good thing. So…” she looked at Spike sheepishly, “I knew I cared about him when he started helping Dawn—especially after the whole thing with Glory. I realized that he really meant what he said—that he wasn’t just messing with me. But, love? Probably only yesterday, or a couple of days ago. I’m not sure. I’m sorry,” she said, turning her head to look at Spike, suddenly not caring that other people were there. “I’m just so thick-headed and, you know, me, I’m sorry.”

“’S ok pet, I don’t care when it happened, as long as you do now, that makes me the happiest man on earth,” he said, smiling down at her.

“That’s what you said when you asked me to marry you,” Buffy said softly. “That it would make you the happiest man on earth.”

“Oh, enough already!” Xander interrupted. “How is this helping? Other than making me feel even unhappier than I already feel, it doesn’t seem to serve a purpose. We all knew Buffy’s feelings were very recent and that Spike’s weren’t. What’s new? Where’s the clue?”

“Well, Xander,” Giles hesitated, “we aren’t done yet, but we have determined that Buffy did not become consciously aware of being in love with Spike until after the spell was begun, but since she has realized it and the spell continues, we can safely rule that out as the goal of the spell. Which means that something beyond love must be achieved.”

“Beyond love?” Buffy asked nervously. “What’s that mean?”

“Has he bitten you yet?” Giles asked, his voice straining to remain calm. “I am assuming that the two of you have already…” he was unable to finish the sentence. “But has he bitten you yet?”

Flushing, Buffy looked nervously around the room.

“Bitten her?!” Xander was up and out of his chair. “What do you mean Giles? Why would you ask that? Of course Buffy wouldn’t let him bite her? And besides, isn’t the whole point supposed to be that he wouldn’t? I mean, you don’t want to turn her, do you Spike?”

“Calm down Xander!” Giles was angry. “If you cannot control yourself, I am going to have to ask you to leave. I understand that you are not happy with the current circumstances. Neither am I. But, contrary to your apparent belief, you do not get to decide whom Buffy is with, or what she does with him. And, it would appear that a certain amount of destiny has been involved in this particular twist of events, so get over yourself and either shut up and help or leave.”

Xander paled as the watcher yelled at him, but he nodded slowly, sitting back down in the chair. His voice calm, he resumed, “I still don’t understand why you’d think Spike would bite her,” he said, unable to look at the blonde pair in front of him, one of whom was avoiding his eyes and one of whom looked like he wanted to eat him.

“Biting isn’t just about feeding, Xander,” Anya offered, looking at him like he was insane. “Surely you know that.”
“Huh?” Came from both Xander and Willow. “What’s she talking about Giles?” Willow asked.

Tara kept her eyes on the table. She didn’t know for sure what the watcher was getting at, but she had already seen the bite marks on Buffy’s throat when the slayer had bent down to pick something up, causing her shirt to slip slightly, and reveal the telltale signs.

Looking extremely uncomfortable, Giles said, “Biting serves many purposes between vampires, some of which,” he looked pointedly at Anya, “we do not need to discuss. But it is a traditional way of expressing affection. Hence my question: has he bitten you yet?”

Buffy nodded slowly, avoiding the shocked looks on Willow and Xander’s faces. “Last night. Nothing changed, though,” she added hurriedly. “I don’t think that was the goal either.”

“Rupes are you getting at what I think you’re getting at?” Spike asked nervously. “Because that kind of thing, it—it doesn’t work like that. It wouldn’t work if she just did it to end the spell. It wouldn’t be real. She’d have to mean it—have to want it.”

Buffy looked at the two of them anxiously. “It? What’s it?”

“Yes, Spike, I’m afraid you’re right. Which means it can’t be that, or, at least, it can’t be just that,” Giles said wearily. “What then?”

“Wait a minute,” Buffy insisted. “What are you two talking about? You have to tell me. It sounds like something I need to know, anyway.”

Spike looked at her, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist. “It’s called claiming, pet. It’s rare—even among vampires. It’s…um, well, it’s permanent, so to speak. You can break it, but it’s very hard to do—that’s why most vampires won’t do it.”

“Claiming?” Buffy asked, perplexed.

“It’s a connection, Buffy,” Giles responded. “It’s a mating ritual of sorts. The vampire equivalent of marriage, but with much broader and deeper reaching magical implications. When two vampires, or a vampire and a human, claim each other, a physical and psychic connection is created. Each feels what the other feels, knows what the other is thinking. The strength of the connection varies depending on distance, how recently it was renewed and sincerity. It’s a very serious thing.”

Buffy remained silent as she took this in. Looking up at Spike, she said, “But you—you and Dru, you must have—”

Spike shook his head. “No, luv. She didn’t want to. She kept hoping Angelus would come back.” His voice was sad, but he kept his shoulders up, looking at Buffy. “This is not something I’d ever ask you to do, Buffy. It would mean you were with me for—well, forever. And, to my knowledge, no one has ever claimed a slayer before. I’m not sure how that would work.”

Buffy nodded again and turned back to Giles. “But, you said this probably isn’t the way to end the spell?” She waited for Giles to nod his head in affirmation. “So this is something that Spike and I can decide for ourselves—we don’t have to worry about the spell or anything?”

Giles’ eyes widened at the implication of Buffy’s question. So did Spike’s. But the watcher swallowed the urge to tell her not to consider it at all and simply nodded again. “It’s your decision. But”—he couldn’t resist a little warning—“Buffy, Spike is right. We have no idea how claiming would work with a slayer.”

Buffy smiled softly at him. “I don’t think it matters Giles. Spike wouldn’t be claiming the slayer. He’d be claiming Buffy. The two aren’t separate, I know—trust me, I know. But,” she paused thinking. “I said that wrong. He would be claiming the slayer, but he’d be claiming Buffy too. I’m not saying I want to do it—now or any time—I don’t think I understand it terribly well, but I don’t think something that intimate would change just because I’m the slayer. It sounds too personal.”

Spike could barely think as the possibilities behind Buffy’s words washed over him, giving him hope he never thought he’d have. “I think you’re right there, love,” he said as he squeezed her tightly.

The rest of the scoobies were quiet, waiting for Giles to finish the interrogation or take everything in another direction.

Slowly, Spike raised an eyebrow in question. “Well, this whole ‘claiming-is-not-required’ clause is great, Rupes. But if the spell is about connecting us, I’m a bit at a loss as to what other ways we could be. I mean we’ve, you know,” he paused and looked at the watcher significantly, “and we’ve told each other, and we’ve told you, and I bit her to show affection”—he hid a grin as he reflected on why else he’d bitten Buffy—“and claiming won’t work. What else is there?”

Everyone looked at everyone else, eyes full of questions.

*********************

A/N Thanks to everyone for their info about claiming. I think it will happen eventually, but I'm going to change the nature of it a bit to fit Buffy better. I love reading about Spike claiming Buffy, but I'm still not entirely convinced it's something she'd let him do. So I'm going to try to find a happy medium by redefining claiming a bit. I hope that's ok with the vampire lore experts out there.:)
`Joan Revello
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