Maine

27-year-old Buffy Summers O'Connor stood looking out the bank of floor to ceiling windows rubbing her arms pensively. The turbulent sea and gray skies was a fitting backdrop for her torn heart and unyielding pain.

*God, was it just a year ago that Angel and I stood here wrapped in each other's arms planning a family? *

A silent tear slid down her drawn face as she thought of her high school sweetheart/husband who had succumbed to the ravages of lymphatic cancer not 8 months before.

*My beautiful Angel. * She thought to herself remembering the valiant battle he had put up against the disease.

She had sat by his side from the very day he had been diagnosed, held his hand through the radiation, then the chemotherapy, and finally through his dying days. His once strong body becoming thin and frail, his once twinkling dark eyes fading in front of her, his only living family, his only living link to the world he was leaving behind. He had made her promise that she would move on and live life for him, find someone new, start a family, "27 is too young and you my love are too beautiful to pine away for someone who is gone. Someday we'll be together but not for a very long time. Promise me Buffy."

So she had promised and Angel had passed to the next world quietly in his sleep the very next evening.

The funeral had been small; only close friends had been on hand to help Buffy release his ashes to his beloved sea. The lawyers had brought her in to discuss the will he had drawn up when he had first found out about the cancer and after all the legal red tape and bills had been cleared up and paid off Buffy was astounded to find that Angel had left her with a little less than 20 million dollars.

Turning from the windows with a deep sigh, she walked to the entryway of the beach house she had shared with Angel, picked up her leather travel bag, slung it over her shoulder and with a last quiet murmur, "Goodbye Angel" She walked out of the door and locked her past behind her just as she had promised.


* * * * * * *


Sunnydale California 8:35 am the next week

"Ya da."

"Ya."

"I got it." *Bleedin' worrywart. *

"I got it. She'll be here today, young, alone, widow, pretty, leave her alone, ya."

"Ya, everythin' s'done."

"Mmmm hmmm."

"Ya."

"Love you too, love to Anya, bye."

Heaving a sigh of relief 19-year-old William "Spike" Giles clicked off the hand held and shook his bleached blond head ruefully as a smile graced his handsome face. His father Rupert Giles and his second wife had moved more than a year ago, to an entirely different country no less, and he still called to check up on his son everyday. Today had been no exception. The usual pleasantries, followed by a thorough run through of his responsibilities as the sole face in the good ol' U.S. of Giles Sanderson realty and how it applied to his newest neighbor and former house buyer. Rolling his eyes as he padded down the oak floored hallway to the master bedroom, he tossed the phone onto the deep forest green duvet before walking to the set of double French doors on one side of the room. Pushing the doors open to let in the early morning breeze, he unbuttoned his faded jeans as he walked to the deep cerulean blue tiled pool, pausing for a moment to let them drop, he then dove into the cool depths.


* * * * * *


2 hours later


Buffy pulled her black jeep up to 1630 Revello drive and parked under one of the huge sycamores that lined the pretty block. Resting her slim hands on the steering wheel for a moment she gazed at what would in a few minutes be her new home.

Warm beige graced the siding of the house, with a deeper brown for the trim, setting off the pretty green yard. The house was cozy and inviting.

*I wish you were here Angel; you'd love it here. *

Shaking away the sad thoughts Buffy reached up to tilt her rear view mirror so she could assess the damage the last leg of the journey had done to her hair. With a tsking sound she reached across the passenger side into her purse on the floor for her brush. Pulling the leather hair tie out of the messy mane she proceeded to do what she could. After a minute or so of fussing she gave up and pulled the golden locks back into a messy bun leaving stray strands to frame her lovely face.

*Good enough. Mister Giles certainly won't notice the slovenly waif on his doorstep so why should I bother? Mister....hmmm...now what did Anya say her stepson's name was? Ward? Warren? William....that's it. *

Buffy nodded her head to herself knowingly before glancing at the carrier that sat in the passenger seat.

"See Louie? Told you your mama was a smart cookie," the large black cat merely blinked its gold eyes sleepily at her. "Well, wish me luck," she said before opening the door to the car and starting up the brick walk of the neighboring house.

The house of her new neighbors was exquisitely landscaped and maintained. Crème paint was accented with deep plum trim, the porch that ran the length of the front of the house was also bricked in used brick for a more homey feel, while an oak swing moved slightly in the breeze to the right of the door. Plants of all shapes and colors festooned the porch in colorful pots and spilled over into the flowerbeds creating a riot of color and symmetry.

*I'm going to have to ask who does the landscaping." Buffy thought before raising her hand to knock on the front door.

"'Old on." A distinctive male voice could be heard through the door. British she'd guess pondering for a moment if her real estate agent had also been British. She didn't think so but with the move and the tying up of last minute details, who could be sure. Mentally shrugging her shoulders she again turned to the lovely view of the yard.

*Yep, definitely asking about the landscaper. *

"Buffy Summers?" A rich baritone caressed over her like a warm summer breeze.

Turning around at the voice Buffy's heart went into a spin as her lips went dry at her first sight of the 19-year-old William.

Buffy stood in her bathroom frowning lightly in concentration as she pulled part of her freshly curled hair back into a clip causing it to cascade down over her shoulders like molten gold.

A pair of large gold hoop earrings completed the look and she was set for the evening. Glancing at the clock sitting on the counter she smiled, *10 minutes to spare, that's a record. *

Looking at herself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door, She tried to picture Spikes reaction when he picked her up tonight. The dress she had picked out was a soft drape of black silk that crossed over one shoulder and flowed down her petite form snugly with high slits that reached mid-thigh on either side.

4 inch black strappy heels, a couple of slim gold bangle bracelets, and her favorite vanilla and sandalwood body oil, placed in strategic locations and she was ready. *Dress to kill, he said. Well Buffy, let's see if we can get away with murder. Spike's not gonna know what hit him.*

Winking at herself playfully in the mirror, Buffy walked out of the restroom and started down the stairs just as the front door bell rang.

Slinging a tiny black purse hanging on a thin strap over one slender shoulder and then fluffing her hair with her fingertips once more, Buffy took a deep calming breath and opened the door.

The first sight of Spike dressed in black form fitting tailored linen slacks and a white silk shirt that was unbuttoned to mid chest, paired with a simple silver chain around his strong neck, knocking her for a loop. *Gaah.........uhhhhh.....* Her brain taking off once again into the realm of no conscience cohesion of thought. *He's so HOT!* was all Buffys mushy brain was able to assimilate as she took in the whole of Spike.

Equally stunned Spike stood bathed in the warm light of the porch light not uttering a sound as he looked upon his dream come to life.

"You...are the most beautiful thing 've ever beheld m'lady." He said in a husky voice, after a moment that sent delicious shivers down her spine. "These are for you," Holding out a bouquet of wild flowers for her, Spike smiled shyly, the awkward but equally appealing younger man shining through the sexy confident exterior for a moment.

"Thank you," Buffy said blushing lightly, accepting the flowers and inhaling deeply of their fragrance, "They're lovely."

"Shall we?" Spike asked offering her his arm gallantly in a gentlemanly fashion.

"Let me put these in water first and then we most certainly shall." Buffy said before turning and disappearing into the house momentarily.

"All set." She said returning, gracing Spike with a brilliant smile. Her lovely eyes glowed with excitement as she took his arm, her hand unconsciencally taking a moment to caress the muscles underneath.

"Then your chariot awaits your pleasure Madame." Spike returned her smile mischievously before reaching in and locking the door to the house and pulling it shut behind her.

"Hmmm...my chariot looks an awful lot like an old jalopy," Buff teased gently grinning as they walked to his De Soto.

"'S a classic I'll have you know. Mint condition at that." He complained good naturedly pausing to lovingly caress his car, "M'baby."

Releasing her arm for a moment, Spike pulled open the passenger side door and helped Buffy into the car as she rolled her eyes. "What is it with men and their cars? I remember Angel used to go completely nuts for this..." Her voice trailing off suddenly as she realized what she had said and tears sprung unbidden to her eyes.

"Luv?" Spike's worried voice sounded close to her ear as he lowered himself next to her just inside the still open car door. "You ok?"

"Yeah," She smiled shakily at him, "Just memories ya know?" She shook her head trying to play it off. "Sorry."

Taking one of her trembling hands into his own, Spike looked deeply into her eyes, "'Snothing to be sorry for luv. The memories will always be there it's how we choose to let them affect us that makes the difference. You loved him deeply, part of you most likely always will, it's what makes you, you. S'not a bad thing. On the contrary, it just shows what a caring heart you have. I, for one, find that wholly endearing."

Gently reaching out and pushing a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, Spike leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before leaning back on his heels with a rakish grin. "What say we get this show on the road? Fun and frolic awaits."

Buffy smiled fully nodding as he stood and closed the door. * He's so wonderful, so thoughtful. Does the age difference really matter?* She thought to herself watching as Spike crossed around in front of the car to climb into the driver's seat before putting the key into the ignition and bringing the De Soto roaring to life. Wrapped deeply in her thoughts Buffy came to a decision, *I don't think I want to miss the chance and not find out. *

Spike glanced over at Buffy offering her a smile before asking, "Music luv?"

Pulling herself from her thoughts she looked at him and nodded, laughing as he turned on the radio and the Sex Pistols flooded the car with raucous punk rock.

*This is what I exactly what I need. * She realized, her whole body lighting up at the younger man's enthusiast ways. Both blonds shared a grin as Spike gunned the motor and they tore away into the night.