One Good Lay | Arizona by Jypzrose

Arizona
Chapters 4-6

Written by: Jypzrose
Author's Website

Summary: Druscilla followed Angel into hell. Buffy did leave, but never went back to Sunnydale, due to an unforeseen circumstance of that day. Now known as Anne, she lives in a small town, outside of Tombstone, Arizona working as a stripper. Spike finds her. What secrets does she have to tell, and can they get beyond the pain of the past to start a future together?
Spoilers: Through the end of Season 2
Disclaimer: If I owned any of it, Buffy and Spike would be together, minus chip AND soul. All characters belong to Joss, except Mark, he is a creation of my own mind, and I intend to keep him! So there.
Distribution: Here and at Libidinous Desires, anywhere else, email me first, jypzrose@aol.com
Author's Notes: Special thanks- to my beta suzy, you are the best, and kumi, for without her, you would not be able to read this. Love you gals.
Feedback: jypzrose@aol.com

Chapter 4

Spike sat in the plush, velveteen chair, silently smoking as his yellow eyes easily watched the play of emotion across her face. Shock was first, as he expected. That was followed quickly by a flash of anger, disbelief, and finally, longing. He hadn't expected the last one, but, he felt the same way. Standing in one smooth motion, he crushed out his cigarette and strode towards her. He stopped within a breath of her, the heat from her body warming him. He cocked his head to the side, and captured his bottom lip through his now blunt, human teeth. He brought a hand up and slid the back of his knuckles over her cheek, down her jaw, and along the line of her throat, hovering lightly over the faded scar of his bite.

"Miss me?" His voice was a mix of menace and teasing, lust coating each syllable. Instead of answering, her arm wound around his neck, and her mouth covered his in a searing kiss. Spike stood stunned for half a second before he was kissing her back, his leather clad arms crushing her against his lean form. Time stood still as their mouths glided over each other, and they found themselves adrift on a sea of sensation. Memories and thoughts receded as their bodies responded to each other.

Anne hadn't realized how much she needed. . .wanted, this. She had wanted to see him, tell him he had a child, and give him the opportunity to be a part of his life. But she hadn't known until he touched her, that it was HIM she wanted. For both of them.

Spike's growl filled her as his tongue tangled with hers. As sweet as he remembered, and so hot. He could take a daily trot in the sun, and still not burn the way she made him. He picked her up and braced her against the flimsy wall, pulling her legs up to wrap around his waist. The heels of her boots dug into his thighs, but he didn't notice. His hands gripped painfully on her hips, and she didn't care. All that mattered was the feel of his lips on hers, his taste filling her, his cool, hard body pressed against hers, his soft hair flowing through her fingers. Every nerve was alive and singing, fully attuned to him.

Spike lost himself in the taste of her. She still tasted like sunshine, she still felt like sin. Her scent surrounded him, clouding his mind even further and driving his need to the edge. It seemed like the entire world began and ended with her, because nothing before her had touched him this deep. Not even Dru. Five years of wanting poured from him and into her. Five years of searching had come to an end. She was here, and warm and oh so sweet. He really didn't understand how he could have left her back then. Not when every sense was filled with her, every cell screaming to be joined with this woman, his equal. Spike reluctantly broke away from her mouth to allow her to breathe, and trailed a line of cool, wet kisses along her cheek to her ear.

"Buffy," he moaned, before capturing the lobe in his teeth. The sound of her real name, husky and soft, pulled her out of her sensual daze. She tightened her fingers in his hair, and wrenched his head back with more force than she had meant. "Bloody hell!" he cursed, releasing his hold in her. "What the fuck was that for?" he growled.

Anne didn't answer him, too preoccupied with trying to reign in her raging hormones.

"Slayer." He snarled, the word a mix of lust, anger and frustration.

"Wait, Spike." She gasped, pressing a hand against his chest, almost as if she was trying to make sure he was real, despite the very intimate contact they had just had.

"What's the matter?" His tone had softened, and he stepped closer to her again.

"I didn't think that I would ever see you again." And there it was. The doubt that she had carried with her since the day she had found out she was pregnant broke free, and her fingers fisted in his shirt, tears springing to her eyes. Suddenly, she was sobbing, and he was gathering her up in his arms, hands running over her back and making her shiver.

"Sh, it's okay, kitten. I'm here now. It took me a long time, but I'm here." He whispered against her hair, the scent of apples tickling his nose. She clutched him to her, her tears causing her to shake in his arms. After a few minutes, she calmed, and just relished the feel of his arms around her.

"We need to talk." She whispered, emotion clogging her throat. Spike frowned at the tone of her voice.

"Come back to my room with me, then," he said.

"I can't tonight." She replied, a slight tinge of regret in her voice. Spike stiffened in her arms, a stab of something nasty piercing his heart.

"Somebody at home waiting." He bit out each word, anger coating his voice. He felt her sigh, and allowed her to step back.

"Yeah," she answered simply. She couldn't see his reaction in the dark room, but she heard the low, dangerous growl and it caused her to shiver.

"Really? And what does he think of his woman working in a place that's no better than a whorehouse?" The flare of the lighter showed the rage filled lines of his demon visage. *Oh, this is going well* Anne thought, rubbing a hand over her forehead in an attempt to ease the headache forming.

"This isn't a whorehouse, Spike. And he doesn't know." This caused an eruption from the blonde that equaled any volcano.

"HE DOESN'T KNOW! And how do you explain coming home smelling like other men? Or do you shower their stink off before you go home to crawl in next to him and cuddle up for the night?" Anne held tight on her temper, reminding herself that he was only reacting to the non-information that she had given him. But, she didn't want to blurt it out about Matt, not here. She wanted to be able to have a supposed adult conversation with him. Which would be hard to do if Spike was dust.

"It's not like that." She started, before he cut her off again.

"Oh, it's not. How would he feel if he knew that you were just all over me like a bitch in heat? How would he feel knowing that I can make you burn?" This last bit was said in a low voice, the resonance and pitch accentuating the lilt of his accent. Her body responded even though her temper snapped.

"Do you even THINK before you open your mouth? Or do you just let whatever shit that pops up roll out?" She snapped. "I said it wasn't like that. Now, if you want to talk, give me the name of your fucking hotel, and I will meet you there tomorrow night after sundown. If you don't want to hear what I have to say, don't let the door hit you on the way out." Spike dragged deeply on his cigarette, trying to reign in his famous temper. When he finally felt calm enough to speak again, he crushed out the cigarette.

"Fine. I'm staying at the Days Inn on Lexington. Room 12." He ground out. She didn't back up when he crowded her, his cool breath tickling her face. "Just make sure your man doesn't come looking for you. I don't like sharing. Got my fill of that five years ago." He finished, crushing his mouth against hers, branding her. Anne slumped against the partition when he released her, unfulfilled arousal making her ache, anger causing her to burn.

~*~*~

"Are you sure this is it?" Xander asked the redhead sitting next to him as he pulled off of Interstate 10 towards San Rios. Willow glared at him in the darkness, before turning to look back out the window.

"Yes" was all she said as she watched the buildings pass by. San Rios was your typical small town, it seemed. Not that much different than Sunnydale. In fact, if it wasn't for the cacti, the dry desert grass, and the mountains in the distance, she would have thought that they had made a wrong turn somewhere and were home. They were currently traveling down the main street, which took them straight through the middle of town. Darkened storefronts had faces that were reminiscent of the old west. The movie theater looked like the kind from the 1950's, the Marquee boasting two of the newest releases. Occasionally, a Blockbuster, or a McDonald's would emerge, their modern structures seeming garish against the rest of the town. When they passed the courthouse, Willow almost giggled. She fully expected to see a gallows constructed in front of the huge brick structure, it's white columns gleaming in the light from the lamps, with some poor hapless horse thief swinging from the end of a noose. As they made their way into the residential part of town, tiny bungalows and ranchers spread along the road.

"Where to now?" He asked, breaking her away from her thoughts of saloons and gunslingers.

"There. Sleep." She ordered when the Days Inn came into sight. He looked over at her, clearly about to argue. One look at the resolve face had him changing his mind. It HAD been a long day, and they were both tired. With a sigh, Xander made the turn and maneuvered the old truck into the parking space in front of the office. "Two rooms," she reminded him as he climbed out of the cab.

"I know," he said before slamming the door. Willow just raised a brow. Sighing to herself, she stretched her sore muscles out, thankful that she was about to slip into cool sheets. This trip had not been easy on either of them, With a great deal of reluctance, Willow had performed the spell. Then they'd had to get their stories straight on what to tell Giles, and she'd had to finish her finals. Xander had grumbled when she said that she wouldn't leave before then. Now, they were here, and she was filled with a combination of excitement and trepidation. She wanted to see Buffy, but she didn't want to cause her pain. Joyce had confided in her, and Willow knew about her son. And she knew who the father was. Of course, she didn't find out that bit of information out until after Spike had left this last time, or she would have never let Xander talk her out of telling Spike Joyce's message. It also explained a lot about Buffy's reluctance to return to her family and friends. Having a child with a soulless, evil vampire that had tried to kill them all on more than one occasion couldn't have been an easy thing to deal with. Much less having to deal with the shocked, and in some cases appalled, reactions of those that loved her

"Here you go," Xander said, opening the door. "14 and 16." He tossed her the key and went to go pull their bags out of the back. Willow got out of the cab and turned to face the direction of the town.

As she looked out at the lights shining from the tiny burg, she hoped with all her heart that she hadn't made a mistake in coming here with Xander.

~*~*~

Anne walked out of her bedroom, braiding the long length of her hair. Her eyes were distant as she thought about the events of the evening. Seeing Spike, (well, she hadn't actually seen him, since it was so dark in the room) had opened up a floodgate of emotion she hadn't realized was there. She had missed him. And since they had spent most of their time trying to kill each other before that fateful day, it seemed a little odd. She had figured whenever she got that little pang in her heart when she looked at Matt, it was because she wished that Spike was there to watch him grow up. To see this miracle that had been given to them, a vampire and a Slayer.

Sighing heavily, she walked into the kitchen and turned on the light. Filling the kettle with water, she felt her skin heat up again at the memory of him pressed against her. After he had spouted out the name of the hotel, he had left, anger radiating off of him. She had waited five full minutes before darting back to the dressing room and using the back entrance to escape Mark's questioning eyes. She would tell him about it later, she just couldn't deal with it then. When she had gotten home, she had sent the babysitter off with her full night's pay, then had put Matt to bed herself. After the third story, he had gone to sleep, his tiny arm wrapped around the stuffed Scooby Mark had given him for his birthday. She had then gone and taken a shower, letting the warm water and her hand wash the tension away. It wasn't the first time in the past five years that she had pleasured herself thinking of him. At first, she had convinced herself that it was because it was too painful to think of Angel. Then of course there was the full day that she had spent with Spike learning just about everything about sex that she hadn't gotten to with her first love. So, she told herself that she just had more material to work with there. She had loved Angel, totally and fully, but it had been the blonde vampire that had snuck into her thoughts late at night, when it was quiet. And Matt looking just like him didn't help.

Putting the kettle on the stove, she turned it on then went in search of the tea that Mark had given her from his grandmother. It was an old Indian brew which was supposed to relieve tension. And boy was she tense. As she drove home, another doubt started to wiggle it's way to the front of her mind.

What, if after she told him about his son, Spike didn't want to be a father? He was a vampire. A soulless vampire at that. His life was full of blood, death, and destruction. Hell, he probably ATE children. For that matter, why did she WANT him to know? She sighed as she dropped the homemade teabag into her mug. She knew why. It was because he could also be gentle and caring. She instinctively knew that he would make a good father. And she wanted that for her son. She just had to figure out what she wanted for herself.

Pouring the hot water over the teabag, she thought about her instant reaction to his tender caress. She had often wondered, when she would see the scar on her neck, if he had claimed her with that bite. She hadn't thought so, because she didn't think it would've been that easy for him to walk away if he had. Granted, now that she looked back, it hadn't really been that easy. It was just neither thought that they could stay together. They hadn't parted as enemies, but they didn't think that they were friends, either.

Pulling out the bottle of aspirin, she downed two then picked up her mug and took it back into her bedroom. She had a lot of thinking to do.

Los Angeles, five years earlier

Buffy and Spike leaned against the hood of the DeSoto, looking up into the starry night sky. He was smoking a cigarette, and she was playing with the straw of her drink. Both were still having a hard time grasping that little more than twenty four hours before, their lives had been changed irreversibly. After they had woken up, they had showered, separately, neither discussing what had happened between them. Then, they had walked out of the mansion, and straight to his car. He hadn't questioned her when she climbed into the passenger seat, just put the car in gear and left the town of Sunnydale without a backward glance. They hadn't spoken, each lost in their memories, and the tangled jumble of emotion where the other was concerned. Once they had reached L. A., Spike had pulled into a fast food restaurant, handing her some money before going in search of his own dinner. He hadn't been into the kill, and he had left the woman alive in an alley before heading back to meet her. She didn't question him when he returned, merely climbed into the car and waited for him to do the same.

Now, they were here, sitting in a parking lot by the beach, the sound of the waves and people on the boardwalk filling their ears.

"What are you going to do, now?" She asked, chewing on the straw. He took a deep breath, hazarding a glance at her.

"I dunno." He said with a shrug. "I can't stay here, though." She nodded in response, looking thoughtfully at the ocean.

"I have to stay close. At least until the new Slayer shows up in Sunnydale." Buffy said, fighting back the fresh wave of tears that burned her eyes. Kendra, her mind screamed. He quietly reached out and took her hand, offering comfort once again. She looked down at their joined fingers, wondering why it felt so right.

"I have a place here. Rent's paid up for a few months, if you want to stay there," he said, flicking the fag away.

"Thanks," she whispered, feeling her throat tighten. He stood then, gently tugging her to her feet.

"Come on, let's go get you settled."

The place was small, but clean. The door opened into the living room, and to the left was the tiny kitchen. Down a short hall was the single bedroom and bath. The couch and matching chairs were leather, and the coffee table was gold and glass. A large screen tv dominated the wall, along with a VCR and cd player. The bed was a simple queen, with a blue satin comforter thrown across it. Heavy curtains covered all the windows, to protect the occupants from the deadly UV rays of the sun.

They had stood in the bedroom for a minute, not quite sure what to do. Then, Buffy had simply stripped out of her clothes and crawled into the bed, too tired and drained to worry about nerves. When Spike had followed her, she had snuggled into his arms, and was quickly asleep.

When she woke up the next day, she found herself alone, a thick, long envelope on the pillow next to her. Sitting up and wiping sleep out of her eyes, she picked it up, a sharp feeling of dread lancing through her. With a deep breath, she slid her finger under the flap, eyes widening at the amount of money inside. Five stacks of one hundred dollar bills landed on her lap, as well as a letter. Picking it up, she quickly unfolded it and scanned it.

Buffy,

Sorry to leave before you wake up, but, I hate goodbyes. A part of me really wishes I could stay, luv, but we both know that would be a mistake. I'll never regret what happened between us. It was the first purely beautiful event in my life. Take care of yourself, and be strong. I've left you a spot of cash, not for services rendered, so to speak. I want to make sure you're okay, and your age at the moment will hinder your job aspects. We're no longer enemies, kitten. Be well, it was an honor to know you.

Spike.

Buffy folded the letter, and put it and the money back in the envelope. Standing, she rushed into the bathroom and threw up, feeling for the first time that she was totally alone. She knew he was right, but that didn't make it any easier to accept his absence. The pain hadn't seemed as sharp with him there.

After she was done, she flushed the toilet, and splashed some cold water on her face. She then padded back to the bedroom, pausing as she was climbing back into bed. Her eyes were drawn to something black on the floor. Bending down to retrieve it, she came up with his t-shirt. Tears ran down her face as she lifted it to her nose. A brief sniff brought his scent to her. Soap, and something cool and spicy. Slipping it quickly over her head, she took comfort in it and climbed back into bed, quickly falling back into an exhausted slumber.

Chapter 5

Anne stood outside door number twelve, staring at it like the next apocalypse waited on the other side. She hadn't slept a wink the night before, her thoughts a tangled mess in her head. Every doubt and worry she had been harboring transcended from her subconscious and spent the night glaring brightly in her brain. Mark had called the next morning after Matt went to school, wanting to know what had happened. She hadn't been surprised that he had recognized Spike, it wasn't like Matt looked like her, except for his dark hair. Of course, she didn't actually know what Spike's natural hair color was, but that wasn't the point. She had told him the edited version. Mark had known that she was leaving stuff out, but he didn't push, pretty sure he didn't WANT to know. He offered her his unflagging support, like always, and had told her to call him when she got home from telling Spike about his son.

She had then spent the day cleaning her already spotless house, attacking nonexistent dust bunnies like they were demons. That had been one side benefit to slaying, if you had some tension, go find a big nasty to beat on. Once she had picked Matt up from school, and had spent the day running errands, with a surprise trip to McDonald's for Happy Meals and milk shakes, the day flew by. Before she knew it, it was bath time for Matt. Then she had sat him down on the couch for his millionth showing of Scooby Doo on Zombie Island to wait for his sitter, Molly, to show up. All too soon, it was time for her to leave, and she had gathered up the pictures she was going to take to Spike, kissed Matt and left.

Now she was here, and the sun was fading fast behind her. With a deep sigh, she knocked on the door. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her stomach was churning dangerously, and a cold sweat had broken out on her skin. She hadn't been this nervous in a long time. She had good reason, as soon as he opened the door, life was going to change for better or worse. She could only pray that it wasn't worse.

The door swung open on silent hinges, its occupant standing behind it to avoid the last rays of the sun. Taking a bolstering breath, Anne stepped through into the darkened room.

Just as the door closed, another one opened. Xander and Willow emerged from her room, ready to begin their search for their missing friend. As they moved towards his truck, one of the cars in the parking lot caught the redhead's attention. Her eyes widened as she recognized the big, black car with the blacked out windows sitting next to a blue Honda Accord. As quickly as she could, she got into the cab, praying that Xander wouldn't see it.

She sighed in relief when he turned the truck around, then pulled out of the parking lot, none the wiser to Spike's presence in town.

~*~*~

"Hello, kitten. I see you were able to get away." Spike sneered, brazenly running his eyes over her. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts, a blue tank top and sneakers. Her dark hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her face was devoid of make up. She was clutching an envelope to her chest, and she smelled of nervousness. Sitting down on the bed, Spike dug into the pocket of his duster and pulled out his cigarettes. "Gonna stare all night, or are you going to tell me what's eating you on the inside?" He asked, lighting the fag.

"I don't really know how to say this." She began, looking down at the envelope in her hand. This was hard, harder than she expected it to be. He watched her from the bed, shirtless and barefoot, his hair a tousled mass of curls on his head. She felt her body respond to the sight, memories surging forward to remind her of what he felt like, tasted like. Shaking it off, she looked into his eyes. The blue orbs burned her as she struggled for the right words. How do you tell a vampire that he's a father? Her inner voice asked.

"Buffy, tell me." His soft voice drifted to her, and she hazarded to meet his gaze. Gone was the arrogant smirk from when he opened the door. In it's place was a look of open curiosity and a bit of concern. . .and fear. He was as afraid of what she had to say, as she was to tell him. Taking another deep breath, she started.

"I have a son. He's four." She waited a beat to see his reaction. He moved so fast that she almost didn't see him until he was gripping her arms painfully. Rage twisted his handsome features as he glared down at her. The only thought reverberating through his mind was that she had been with someone else after him, and that shit was either letting her work in that hellhole, or he had left her alone with a baby to raise.

"Who?" He growled, his blue orbs flashing gold. Anne was so stunned, that it took a minute to comprehend his question. "I'll kill him. WHO. TOUCHED. YOU!?" The seething jealousy and anger sent her reeling for another loop, and she had to fight back the tremor of fear.

"Let me go, and I'll tell you." She said, her eyes imploring him to calm down. With a snarl, he let her go and started to stalk the length of the room. She watched him for a minute, trying to calm her nerves. *Good way to start, Annie. Got him good and pissed off.* She yelled at herself. Sighing again, she opened the envelope and pulled out a picture. It was of Matt, on his last birthday, and he was smiling hugely at the camera. She held it out to him, flinching when he snatched it from her. She watched him as he looked at it, knew the second recognition hit him. His hands started shaking and he sank to the edge of the bed, the cigarette in his hand forgotten.

"This isn't possible," he gasped, reaching up to trace a finger over the cherubic face of the child.

"Apparently, it is." She said, moving to sit on the other bed, facing him. His eyes met hers, shock permeating their depths. He looked back down at the picture, awe softening his features.

"How?" he gasped, his voice choked. Tears sprang to her eyes in response to the ones glistening in his. He looked so vulnerable, and all Anne wanted to do was reach out and hold him. But, he needed answers, and she had to give them. Linking her fingers in her lap, she started to speak.

Los Angeles, six weeks after Spike left

Buffy knew with distinct clarity that something was wrong. What she had at first thought was just a case of the flu, was quickly turning into something else. Every day, for the last two weeks, she had woken up throwing up. She was tired all the time, no matter how much sleep she got. Not to mention, she was late. Very late. A month late to be precise. She had thought that it was just the stress from everything that had happened, but, since the onslaught of her 'flu', she'd started to change her mind.

The only conclusion she could draw was impossible. Staring down at her hands in the waiting room, she waited to be called in to see the doctor, all the while trying to convince herself that it was JUST the flu. She glanced around the room, taking in the various women that were waiting as well. One girl didn't look to be any older than herself, and she was ready to pop. They briefly made eye contact, exchanging tight smiles before looking away. Buffy's Slayer sense was going crazy, thanks to the blue demon woman sitting next to her. Once she had become suspicious of what was really wrong with her, she had called Willy in hopes that he knew of someone who specialized in just such things. He had, and had quickly given her the number, his response to her threat being of course he wouldn't tell anybody.

So, here she was, surrounded by various demon and human women, some with the fathers some not. She could only guess at what had gotten the other young girl pregnant, and she shuddered.

"Ms. Summers?" Buffy looked up at the pretty blonde nurse, and got up. She followed her into the examining room, and changed into the paper gown. She had done the bathroom thing when she got there, and now she was waiting for the results. A few minutes after the nurse had left, a quick knock sounded on the door to alert her to the doctor. When he walked in, she found herself staring at a kindly looking older man, with gray hair and face reminiscent of Santa Claus. The only disturbing thing about him seemed to be the onyx colored eyes with yellow pupils.

"Well, Ms. Summers. How are you today?" He asked, looking up from his file. His smile put her at ease, even if it didn't shut her Slayer sense up.

"Been better. What did the test say?" She asked without preamble. His kind, odd eyes met hers, and he came over to sit on the stool by the examining table.

"I think you know already." He told her. She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes.

"No, it's impossible." She gasped, her fingers clenching in her lap.

"I take it he was a vampire?" She nodded her head, sniffling. "You're the Slayer, right?" Her eyes shot to his at that, a frown pulling her brows together.

"Yeah, so?" Buffy asked with a hint of suspicion in her voice. She tensed, wishing she had thought to keep her stake handy. He chuckled, as if reading her thoughts.

"It's okay. You won't need it." Her eyes widened at that. "I'm a doctor, Ms. Summers. I had to take the same oath your pediatrician took. Do no harm?" He said at her confused look.

"Oh. So, how did this happen? I didn't think vampires could have. . .children." She nearly choked on the last word, her voice trembling. Sympathy suffused his face as he regarded the young girl in front of him. He could tell that she'd had some hard times. Pretty recently, if the dark circles under her eyes were any indication.

"They can't. With other vampires." He shifted on the stool, and continued. "I didn't think they could with humans, either. But, I'm willing to bet that it has something to do with you being the Slayer. I've never seen it, but, you are also the first Slayer that I have ever met."

"Will it be. . ." she trailed off, afraid to ask.

"Will it be human or vampire?" He waited for her to nod. "I don't know. Like I said, I have never seen this before. But, it's safe to say that since the host is human, the baby should be human as well. Although, it will have some attributes of the father also." He told her. Looking down at his file, he started to write something on his prescription pad. "I want you to get this filled. It's prenatal vitamins. Schedule an appointment with Nancy for next week, we'll start doing some tests then. Alright?"

"Okay." She stared down at the paper in her hand, fear and disbelief rolling through her. Pregnant? By Spike? The doctor was just as confused as she was, and now she had to have tests.

"Don't worry, Ms. Summers. Everything will work out. I'm going to go get the nurse, then we can do the pelvic, and take some blood, alright?" He waited for her to nod, gently patted her hand, then stood to leave. As soon as the door closed, Buffy buried her face in her hands and cried.

San Rios, Arizona

Spike had stared at the picture through the whole telling of her story. When she was finished, he looked up at her, amazement spread across his face.

"I'm a father." He whispered, the wonder in his voice making her smile.

"Yeah. You're a father. I tried to find you." she said, picking at her nail polish.

"I know. I got your message. I'm sorry, Buffy. That I wasn't there." A tear slid down his cheek. Happiness spread through her at his words.

"You would have wanted to be?" She gasped. He looked at her as if she had sprouted a second head.

"Christ, Buffy. Of course. Why wouldn't I want that?"

"Well. You know. Big Bad, and all that." she reminded him, making a face that indicated 'grr'. He rolled his eyes.

"I haven't been that in a long time now, pet. Not since. . ." he waved a hand in the air, indicating that day. "Spent too much time looking for you." he added with a smile. His eyes drifted to the picture once again, a feeling he had never felt before expanding in his chest. This little one was his. HIS. He had never thought. . .never dreamed. He didn't even have the slightest clue at how to be a father. He ran a hand through his hair, fighting back the wave of panic that hit him. "Is he. . .normal?" he choked out, afraid of what the answer would be. She smiled at the same fear she had felt herself when the doctor had handed him to her for the first time.

"As far as I can tell. No extra strength, no allergy to the sun. No sharp pointy teeth. He's just a normal, healthy little boy." Spike nodded, relief pushing aside some of his panic. "He's very smart. I guess he got that from you." She said with a smile, remembering her none too successful school record. Spike sorted on response. "He was walking before he was a year. Talking in sentences by two. And he asks questions about everything. And he REALLY doesn't like it if you answer I don't know." She giggled a little, a sound so full of joy it made his undead heart squeeze.

"What's his name?"

"Matthew." Matthew, he repeated to himself, smiling. Pride pushed out the panic completely, and the first real smile Anne had ever seen on his face emerged. It took her breath away.

"I want to see him."

"I figured that. But, we have to take it slow. He's going to be confused, and I want to make it as easy as we can." Spike nodded, willing to let her have her way. "Why don't you come to dinner tomorrow night. . .shit, I have to work. But, I'm off Friday." She looked up hopefully, a frown marring her brow at the black look that clouded his face. "What?"

"You're not going back there."

"Right." She answered with a roll of her eyes. "I have bills to pay, Spike." He stood up and glared down at her.

"I have money. You're. Not. Going. Back. There." Each word was accentuated with a slight growl at the end. She stood herself, her face an inch from his.

"You can't tell me what to do." She said, her eyes glittering dangerously.

"The hell I can't. You're the mother of MY child, and you will not work in a glorified bordello."

"Oh. Really." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Need I remind you, soulless vampire." She said, poking a finger into his bare chest. "Not exactly the paragon of virtue."

"And I wouldn't object if you were a vampire. But you are a mother, and the Slayer. Your morals are supposed to be a touch on the higher side." He reminded her, sarcasm dripping from his voice, and stepping closer. They were practically touching now, anger snapping from their eyes.

"You might wanna remember that before you go telling me what I can and can't do." Another inch, and they would be standing in the same space. "Now, I am NOT discussing this any more. You are Matt's father, yes. You are NOT my keeper." Deciding to try another tactic, Spike backed off.

"Fine. I'll be over on Friday." He said, stepping away to go in search of another fag. An idea swirled in his head that would go a long way towards pissing her off, but it would get her out of that. . .place. Anne eyed him suspiciously, not sure if his acquiescence was a good thing.

"Good. I'll call you tomorrow with directions." She said, confused.

"Great."

"Fine. You can keep the picture." She said, turning towards the door.

"Oh, kitten." She paused, hand still on the doorknob, and turned towards him. The next thing she knew, she was slammed against the door, her body pinned between him and it. One of his hands was braced over her head on the door, the other was cupping her cheek. "Don't forget my goodbye kiss." She barely managed a squeak before his mouth descended on hers. Warmth collided with cool to cause them both to shiver. Anne felt her mind haze over as his tongue dove in between her parted lips, tasting and teasing, possessing. His hand skimmed over her, blazing a trail of fire through her clothes. "You are both mine," he growled in her ear when he pulled away. Anne was in too much of a trance to argue. It took her three tries to get the door open after he moved away. Her legs weren't in much condition to walk when she finally succeeded, but she knew on some instinctive level that she had better beat a hasty retreat. Now. It wasn't until she was halfway home that his words penetrated the fog in her head. She spent the rest of the ride home cursing the arrogant, self centered, EVIL vampire.

~*~*~

As soon as he heard her car leave, Spike walked to the phone and dialed information. Once he got the number that he needed, he dialed it quickly. Crushing out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray, he waited for the line to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Ralph Henderson. Please." He added the last as an afterthought.

"Speaking." An evil smile spread across the blonde vampire's face as he explained to the man just who would be informed of the activities that went on in the Paradise room, if a certain brunette stripper didn't suddenly find herself out of work. With a smile, he hung up on the still sputtering man, satisfied that he had taken care of the situation.

Chapter 6

Mark walked out of the grocery store and pulled out a cigarette. The light breeze lifted the ends of his hair, making it dance around his sharp features. Taking a deep drag of smoke, he hefted the bag higher on his arm and turned, not seeing the small woman until he had knocked her down. Cigarette forgotten, he immediately reached out to steady her, and missed.

"Oh, shit. Are you alright?" He asked, putting his bag down and reaching out to help her to her feet. The tiny redhead looked up at him, a flustered smile on her face. Her pale skin was slightly flushed from the hot Arizona sun, and a light sheen of sweat had her T-shirt clinging to her body. He pulled her fluidly to her feet, and smiled down at her. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention." He said, staring into the greenest eyes he'd ever seen.

"No, that's okay. I was playing tourist girl and not watching where I was going." Willow looked up at the man, and found her self mesmerized by his smile. His dark eyes studied her upturned face, and his long, black hair was being teased by the warm breeze. She was amazed by how tall he was, the top of her head barely coming to his chest.

"Not from around here, then." She shook her head, and looked around nervously. "Well, my name is Mark Lynch, and may I be the first to welcome you to San Rios." He smiled that disarming smile again, and Willow placed her tiny hand into his much larger one.

"Willow Rosenberg. Thank you. It's hotter here, than I expected. A lot hotter than California." She said, glancing away again. God, he was hot, she thought. He held himself with confidence, and he had an almost predatory air about him. But in contrast, he smiled easily and his eyes were kind. Willow remembered that it had been a long time since Oz had left. She'd been single ever since. And this guy was making her remember just what it was like to want to be with someone.

"California, huh. Well, the big difference is, we don't have all that smog and pollution clogging up our skies." He said conversationally. He rocked back on the heels of his boots, fishing in his pocket for another cigarette. At the quirk of her brow at the smoldering tube, he grinned ruefully. "I meant from factories."

"Uh, huh. That's okay, I'm sure the cactus and the buzzards will forgive you." He chuckled, the sound sending a thrill down her spine.

"So, who do I thank for bringing you to our fair city?" He asked, forgetting he had told Anne he would meet her at her house for lunch.

"A friend." Willow answered, a bit hastily. One dark brow shot up, but he didn't press. Wasn't his business.

"Well, then you have to send your friend my appreciation." Willow couldn't believe he was flirting with her. And she was liking it. Just as she was about to say something, hopefully witty and cute, she heard her name being called. Sighing heavily and rolling her eyes, she turned to watch Xander come up to them at a slow trot. He eyed Mark suspiciously, and laid a possessive hand on her arm. Willow glared at him and tried to shrug him off inconspicuously.

"Will, I've been waiting for you." Xander said, tearing his eyes away from the tall Indian.

"I'm afraid that's my fault. Nearly ran the poor girl over." Mark interjected, instantly disliking the brunette man. Xander barely spared him a glance.

"I think I've got a lead, let's go." He said, then started to walk away, trying to pull her with him. Willow gave up on inconspicuous and finally yanked her hand out of his grasp.

"I'll be right there." She hissed, her eyes telling him to get lost. Xander shook his head and stalked to the truck parked by the curb a few feet away. Shooting another glare at him for good measure, she turned back to Mark, an apologetic look on her face. "I have to go." she said, with a hint of regret in her voice. Mark crushed the cigarette out before extending his hand again. She took it, and felt an electric shock jolt up her arm, leaving little tingles in its wake.

"It was nice to meet you, Ms. Rosenberg. I hope I'll get to see you again before you leave." His deep voice resonated over her, heating up her already burning skin. She smiled at him again, reluctantly pulling her hand from his.

"I'd like that." When he grinned, she felt herself struggling for breath.

"If that's the case, my band is playing at the bar over on Fifth tonight. If you would like to come."

"I'll definitely try to make it." She said, starting to back away. With another smile, she turned and joined Xander in the truck. What was it with her and musicians?, she thought as she buckled her seat belt. She sent him a final wave and a smile as Xander pulled out into traffic.

~*~*~

"You're late." Anne said as he walked inside, a huge grin on his face. She was sitting on the couch, painting her toenails. He dropped the bag on the table, and sank down next to her.

"Sorry, but I got held up by an angel." Anne rolled her eyes, but she smiled at the almost dreamy expression on his face.

"Uh, huh." She screwed the cap on her nail polish and leaned back on the cushions. Rubbing her tired eyes, she stretched.

"Tired?" He asked, filing the image of the pretty little redhead away for later perusal.

"Yeah." She said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"How'd it go?"

"A lot better than I expected. He wants to be a part of his life. Of course, he tried to tell me that I had to quit the Glamour Factory." Anne snorted at that. Mark laughed, thinking he would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that.

"Can't say I blame him, sweets."

"You do remember that you work there too?" She asked. Shifting her head to glare at him.

"Yeah, but it's not somewhere I would want my sister or my mother working, and especially not the mother of my child."

"You don't have a sister." Mark quirked a brow at her and pursed his lips. She had to giggle at him.

"You know what I mean. It's not the nicest of places, and it was one thing when you were washing dishes or waitressing. Dancing, and that other stuff, is a whole different sort of thing."

"I don't do that 'other stuff', Mark." She ground out, standing up and stalking into the kitchen.

"I know that. But you work at a place that allows it." He replied, following her.

"So do you." The refrigerator was closed with a slam.

"I'm a guy." he said with a shrug. Anne threw her hands up in the air, and gave a frustrated sigh.

"Ugh, of all the chauvinistic bullshit." She spat, opening the bottle of water with a sharp twist. He bit back the chuckle, not feeling the need to get his ass kicked before going to play that night. "You know, you two would probably get along great. Kick back on the couch with a couple of beers, cigarettes hanging from your mouths. Watch football or whatever and converse about your very Victorian attitudes. Of course he has the advantage of BEING from the Victorian age, but, I'm sure you could overcome that hurdle." she snapped. Laughter danced in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Sorry, Annie. That's just the way of the world." He walked over to her and tilted her chin up to look at him. "Maybe you ought to think about finding a new job." When she started to sputter indignantly, he cut her off. "NOT just because us Victorian-thinking men think you should, but also because you do have a young son to think about."

"I know that Mark. That's why I started dancing in the first place. Being the chosen one doesn't exactly guarantee job security." She glared up at him, her hazel eyes shooting sparks.

"Look, all I'm saying, is that if he's willing, let him foot the bill and go back to school. Find something that you really want to do, not just something that pays the bills." Anne sighed, feeling her anger seep out of her. He was right, she knew. She hated her job, wasn't overly thrilled with the hours, even though she used to slay much later into the night than she did dancing. Matt was going to school, and Spike was willing to pay for them, now would be the perfect time. But part of her didn't like the thought of sitting back and letting him take over. She had been doing it on her own so long, that she didn't know if she could adjust to sharing the burden. Seeing that she was beginning to agree, Mark decided to back off. "Just think about it, okay." Watching her nod, he smiled at the sullen look on her face. "Good. Now, I gotta go. Wish you could come tonight." He said as they walked to the door.

"Yeah, me too. But, you apparently have a new groupie in waiting. You won't even miss me." She told him with a chuckle. He reached up and cupped her face, a sad smile on his lips.

"Nah, that's not true. Nobody could replace you."

"Somebody will, and you deserve it." Anne returned his smile, and leaned up to brush a kiss across his mouth. "Now, go. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Well, I think that leaves my evening fairly open." He told her with a smirk, grabbing his bag and heading out the door before she could hit him.

"You jerk." she called after him, sticking her tongue out for effect.

His laughter was all he answered as he pulled out of her driveway with a wave.

~*~*~

Oh, she was so going to kill that vampire. They wouldn't have to worry about how Matt was going to react to meeting his father, because said father was going to be dust. Anne pressed the gas pedal just a little harder, ignoring the honks of the other drivers around her. *How dare he?* her mind screamed. Her fingers fisted on her steering wheel, the strength behind her grip leaving indentations of her digits on the heavy plastic. With a squeal of rubber, she tore into the Days Inn parking lot, coming to a screeching stop next to the DeSoto. Stomping out of the car, she stalked to the door and proceeded to pound on it.

"SPIKE! Open this fucking door right now you peroxided rat!" she yelled. She didn't notice the looks of the people walking into the office to check in, or the doors opening and people peering out to see the obviously crazy brunette trying to beat the door down. When it swung open, she stormed in, ripping it out of his hand and slamming it closed.

"Well, kitten. What brings. . .fuck!" he spat when her fist flew into his nose. Staggering back a step he recovered in time to block the next blow.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" She sent a kick to his midsection, cursing when he blocked her again. She was shaking with anger, and her churning emotions were causing her to be careless. When she took another swing, he caught her wrist, spinning her around to trap her against him and then knocked her feet out from under her, sending them both to the floor. They landed with an 'oomph', with him pinning her to the rough, beige carpet.

"Now, wanna tell me why we're playing kick the Spike?" He already knew, but he figured he'd play dumb for a bit.

"You know damn well why. YOU GOT ME FIRED, YOU ASSHOLE!" She yelled, struggling to get free.

"Tsk, pet. What sort of language is that to use?" He asked casually, savoring the squirming woman under him. When the evidence of his pleasure pressed intimately against her buttocks, Anne reared up and finally managed to toss him off of her. He landed on the floor a foot away, but they were soon both up and facing each other again.

"Don't try the innocent act on me, Spike. It's so not going to work. How could you do that? You can't just waltz back into my life and start taking over. It doesn't work like that." She took a step forward, arms crossed over her chest, eyes blazing.

"I told you, you weren't going back there." He growled in return.

"Fuck you. You're not my father, or my lover. You have no right. . ." He hauled her against him, his own blue orbs flashing gold.

"That's right, kitten. I'm not your father. But as to the second, I'm afraid you're sadly mistaken. I have been and I will be your lover until you die."

"God, stalker much?" She snapped back, ignoring the trill of excitement that coursed up her spine at his claim.

"Don't you get it, Buffy? I'm here. To stay. And I won't allow other men to touch you. Period. Do you know how crazy it made me that first night I saw you go into the back with that yuppie wanker? I could smell the sex from fifty feet away. It was all I could do not to go back there and kill that bastard. And you for doing it." Her eyes blazed at the implication he made.

"I've never. . .I'm not a whore. I haven't been with anybody since. . ." Anne stopped, looking away from him. He wouldn't let her drop it though.

"Since when, Buffy?" He growled, pulling her closer. She refused to meet his eyes. He shook her a bit, trying to force her to look up. "Since. When?"

"Since that day with you. Are you happy, now? Does that soothe your male ego?" She glared at him from under her lashes, her anger quickly being replaced by something else. He was pressed tightly against her, his mouth mere inches from hers. He searched her face, seeing the truth of her words.

"Neither have I." Her eyes widened at his admission in the second before his mouth descended on hers. Desire, fury, frustration, and something else poured from him and into her as his lips plundered hers. Heat suffused them both the second their lips touched. She kissed him back with everything she'd had locked up inside since that day in the mansion. His fingers tangled in the length of her hair, her fingers fisted in his. The kiss was passionate, and violent, as they each branded the other.

They were both panting heavily when they pulled apart, arms still entwined around the other.

"I want you, Buffy. For five damn years I've wanted you." He told her, brushing his lips over her cheek. She shivered with the intensity of his words, her own inner thoughts mirroring them. But, somewhere in the back of her mind, reasoning started to kick in, and she started to pull away. Reluctantly, he let her go, sensing her need to distance herself, physically, if not mentally.

"I want you too." She admitted once she was seated on the bed. When he took a step towards her, she held a hand up, stilling him. "But, that can't be all it's about. We have a child, Spike. We can't rule whatever this is between us with hormones. I won't have him hurt because we can't control our libidos." She said, running a hand through her hair.

"Tell me what you want from me, Buffy." He said, sitting on the other bed and grabbing his cigarettes off the nightstand. Once he lit it, his eyes returned to hers, their color close to black with his want for her.

"Stop looking at me like that for one, or we'll never make it out of this room."

"And that's a bad thing?" He teased, trying to pull in his raging lust. She just huffed in response.

"You can't come in and try to control me, Spike. I've been taking care of Matt and myself for a long time now. I don't appreciate you getting me fired." Her words carried an edge of anger and hurt, and he was suddenly sorry for his actions.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I just couldn't stand the thought of you there, doing that."

"I told you I never did that..." she began, this time he held up his hand to stop her,

"I know that. Your 'employer' made it very clear that you didn't. You're better than that place." He finished, taking a deep drag from his cigarette.

"Yeah, well, for the record. I was considering taking you up on your offer, and maybe going back to school, or something." She told him with a half smile. "But, that doesn't excuse you for what you did." She sent him a glare, and was met with his disarming grin. Finding it infectious, she grinned back. "You better make sure you're ready for this, because I have a house payment, a car payment, AND utility bills that need paying. Not to mention little things like food, and clothes."

"Don't worry about it, kitten. I've got plenty of money." He said, crushing out his cigarette.

"Do I even want to know how?" When all he did was grin, she dropped her head into her hands and groaned.

"The crime was done long ago, before you were born. I'm just good with making it multiply." He said, wagging his eyebrows. She laughed, feeling the rest of her anger drain out of her.

"Do we have an agreement? No more trying to be all control freak?" He nodded, holding out his hand. With a laugh, she took at and they shook on it. When he tried to tug her to him, she resisted. "Oh no, lusty. That's not gonna happen."

"Why not? I thought we were all made up." He said with a pout. Anne's eyes widened at the unexpected look, and she found herself giggling again. He liked the sound, so different from that day, and he exaggerated the look even more to get her to do it again.

"We are all made up, you dork. But, we need to see if this real, and not just sex. We already know that we do that well."

"No bloody shit." He said, causing her to scrunch her nose up at him.

"However," she continued, ignoring him. "We need to see if we can do the rest well."

"Alright, luv. How do we start?" He linked his fingers loosely through hers, and gave her his full attention.

"A date." He blinked, not sure if he heard her right.

"A what?"

"A date. You know, you take me somewhere, pay for everything then drop me off at home with a chaste kiss at the door." She said the last part with a gleam in her eye. He grumbled under his breath at that. She smiled at his scowl. "Hey, I've got an idea. Since my sitter's already paid up for the night, my friend Mark is playing at the club over on Fifth. Wanna go? I'd love for you to meet him." Biting back the jealousy that surged forward at the mention of her friend's name, he gave her a tight smile.

"Sure." Then he gave her a horrified look. "He doesn't play that 'my women done left and my dog died crap', does he?" He said in a mock southern accent. Anne raised an eyebrow, offering him a coy smile.

"Some." At his groan, she chuckled, standing and pulling him to his feet. "Come on, fang face. Let's get you decent so you can take me out. I'm hungry, so you can feed me too." She turned towards his bag and started rummaging through.

"Hey, what are you about?" he asked, trying to stop her.

"Trying to see if you have anything with color in here." She said with a scowl. Buried underneath the mountains of black t-shirts and jeans she found a dark blue button down. "Well, this will have to do." She muttered, throwing it at him. He caught it, and sneered at her. She yanked out a pair of clean jeans and socks, noticing with some interest that there wasn't a pair of boxers or briefs in the entire bag. Of course, they had undressed so quickly that day, she couldn't remember if he had on any then. "Here, go get dressed. I have to call Molly and let her know that I'm not at work." Looking down at the clothes in his hand, he growled softly and stormed into the bathroom. With a smile at his bare back, she picked up the phone and dialed.

~*~*~

Two doors down, another argument was starting, just as Anne and Spike's was finishing.

"Dammit, Will. We're here to find Buffy, NOT pick up long haired musicians." Xander exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. Willow's mouth formed into a hard line as she sat on the bed. "I don't see why you can't do the spell again. I so don't believe that she would be working as a STRIPPER." The word was said with such disdain that she cringed. Xander had apparently spoken to the clerk at the small drugstore in town, who had told him that a girl fitting Buffy's description worked at the strip club off of 10. He had promptly dismissed it.

"I told you, Xander. You're lucky that it got us this far. She obviously hadn't used that brush in years. The hair was old. And what does it matter if I try to have a little fun while we're here? He was nice."

"Uh, huh. Don't you remember what happened with Oz?" He said, glaring at her. Her eyes went wide at that, anger making her green orbs flash black. Struggling to calm down so she didn't do something irrational, like turn him into a toad, she stood.

"Of course I remember what happened. But that doesn't mean that's going to happen again. And you need to chill out. In case YOU forgot, this little obsession with Buffy is what made Cordy break up with you." She snapped. He grimaced at the reminder, but he didn't back down.

"It's not an obsession. I'm just trying to make sure she's okay. She needs her friends." Willow was just short of having enough. With a wave of her hand, and a quite word slipping from her lips, Xander was asleep. With a sigh, she levitated him to the bed. She then went over to him and grabbed his keys. She really hated using magic for selfish means, but he was seriously starting to pluck her last nerve. She loved him, she really did. But he could be the most single minded person she knew. She really needed to get away from him for awhile.

With a sigh, she took the map off the table, then walked out into the night.

CONTINUED...

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