Chapter 5:

"You've forgone the safety pins, I see."

Spike shrugged. "Didn't want to ruin the evening by stabbing one of your mates."

"I appreciate your consideration," Buffy replied with a smirk. She looked over Spike's outfit, noting that he had indeed tweaked his look, replacing his normal ripped clothes and pointy jewelry with black jeans and a red button-down shirt. "You clean up well."

"I do, don't I? Ready to admit what a handsome bloke I am?"

"A bit full of yourself, aren't you?" Spike smiled at her, and Buffy smiled back. Since dinner the other night, she'd relaxed around him, deciding that maybe he wasn't the most horrible roommate she could possibly have.

"Ready to go then, pet?"

"Are you going to behave yourself?"

"Oi! I wore the decent clothes, didn't I?"

"Could just be part of an elaborate plot to lull me into a false sense of security."

"Door. Out. Now."

Buffy smiled at him again before leaving the apartment, Spike trailing behind her.

*** *** ***

"And you must be Spike," Willow said as she opened the door.

Spike nodded. "And you're…Willow?"

"Yep." Buffy and Spike came into the apartment, and Willow shut the door, then gestured to the brunette sitting on the couch. "That's Tara."

"Hi," Tara said with a small wave.

Spike nodded again in response. "Nice to meet you both."

"Is Xander here yet?" Buffy asked.

"He's in the kitchen," Willow replied.

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"You left him alone with the food?!" Buffy playfully slapped her friend on the shoulder. "What were you thinking?"

"I'm not sure," Willow replied with a laugh. "Better go check on dinner—make sure we still have one."

As Willow went back to the kitchen, Buffy joined Tara on the couch. Spike sat in a chair across from them. "How do you like New York?" Tara asked Spike.

"Like it more than California. Too hot there for a London boy such as myself."

Before anyone could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. Tara stood to answer it. "Is someone else supposed to show up?" Buffy asked.

"Anya," Tara replied.

"Willow invited Anya?"

"Actually, I did. I know she has a crush on Xander, and I thought it would be a good time for them to get to know each other. Willow was less than thrilled, but I think they'd make a cute couple." Tara smiled a little before going to the door. As soon as Anya was inside, she asked about Xander.

Buffy leaned over, whispering to Spike. "Anya's my manager at the bakery. She's a little blunt, but she grows on you."

Tara offered to get Xander from the kitchen, and Anya sat on the couch. "Hello Buffy and an extremely blond man I don't know," Anya said.

"Hi, Anya," Buffy replied. "This is Spike."

"Oh, right. Your mother's husband's son. The one who's been staying at your apartment even though you don't want him around. Nice to meet you, Spike."

Buffy reddened despite Spike's chuckle. "Heard you were blunt," Spike said with a grin. "Nice to meet you, too, Anya."

"I believe in always saying what's on your mind. Ooh—there's Xander." Anya got up, ambushing Xander as soon as he left the kitchen.

"That was when you were first here," Buffy said. "I haven't said anything bad about you in…at least a good three or four days."

Spike reached over, patting Buffy's knee. "Don't worry about it. I haven't had all nice things to say about you either."

"Gee, thanks."

"But I think you're all right now. Not nearly as bitchy as I remember you being at the wedding."

"Yeah, like you were Mister Sunshine."

"Look, Buffy, I didn't much care for the fact that my da could love anyone but my mum. I acted like a wanker, I know, but I couldn't see how he could be over her death when I wasn't. I'm sorry. Joyce is a real nice lady, and I do regret being rude to her then."

Buffy blinked. She hadn't thought about it that way then, her sixteen year old existence too untouched by tragedy for her to even being to comprehend what Spike had been going through. Things were different now. "I…I don't think he really got over it either." She reached up, fingering the ring still hanging on a chain beneath her blouse. "You don't get over losing the person you love like that. You…you learn to move on. You have to keep on living, or you'll just lie down and wait until you can join them."

Spike looked at her for a moment as another clue to the mystery of what had changed her so much in five years clicked into place. "Buffy, I…"

Buffy held up her hand. "Don't. I've dealt with it, and I don't want to talk about it."

Spike didn't point out that she certainly didn't seem like she'd dealt with it. He knew prying now wouldn't get him anywhere, and he contemplated for a second calling Dawn and asking her what had happened to her sister in order to satisfy his curiosity, but decided that would be an invasion of Buffy's privacy, and a possible hindrance to the tentative friendship they had been developing should she find out. "Right then."

"So is this the Spike I've heard so much about?"

Buffy and Spike both turned to see Xander standing by the couch, Anya not far from his side. "Yeah, that would be me. And you're Xander, I assume."

The two men shared a look for a moment before Xander shrugged. "Nice not to be the only one in the place without an abundance of estrogen, I suppose." Xander sat next to Buffy, smiling, but still eyeing Spike warily.

"Dunno. I've always rather enjoyed being the only rooster in the hen house." He winked and Anya, making her blush, and Xander sit up a little straighter and glance over at the blonde woman. Spike suppressed a chuckle. Apparently Anya's crush wasn't one-sided…

Tara peeked out of the kitchen then, clearing her throat to get the attention of the people in the living room. "Willow's putting food on the table if anyone wants to eat it."

*** *** ***

Later in the evening, Spike surprised Buffy by agreeing to go with Xander on a beer run. She'd almost said she should go, too, but Anya had whispered, "Let them go. They want time alone to size each other up. It's a man thing."

Buffy soon found herself alone on the couch with Anya as Tara and Willow put the food away, refusing any help from their guests. "He's pretty hot," Anya said, inspecting her nails.

"Xander?" Buffy asked, confused.

"No. Well, Xander's hot, but that's not who I meant. Spike."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess he's okay."

"If I were you, I'd be all over him. It's obvious he wants you."

"Huh?" Buffy's eyes bulged a bit, and she stared at Anya, slack-jawed for a moment. "No, Spike doesn't want me! Are you insane?"

"Please, Buffy. If there are two things in this world I know anything about they're money and men. Spike, falling into the category of 'men,' is fairly easy to interpret. He was watching you the entire meal with that look they get when they want you to give them orgasms."

Buffy's face felt warm as she blushed deeply. "You've got to be reading him wrong, Anya. He's not even remotely interested in me. It doesn't even make any sense that he would be."

"Oh please. It would make less sense if he wasn't. You're an attractive woman, and you're living in close quarters. That's sex waiting to happen."

"But that's…it's…we're practically related!"

"But you're not. You're not even as close to family as Greg and Marsha Brady, and you know they were up to all sorts of things."

"No! And they weren't either. The Brady family was wholesome." Buffy crossed her arms in front of her.

"Oh please. Put that many teens in a house, and someone's having sex. But that's not really the point here."

"What exactly is your point, Anya?"

"That you should go for it with Spike, of course. It would be a shame to pass up a chance with someone that fine."

"A world of no. Spike and I are much better just being roommates. Sex would only…complicate things at best."

Anya shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you ask me, you're passing up a wonderful opportunity. Anyone with that build has to be worth it."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "He's kinda skinny."

"Don't you know what they say about skinny guys?" Buffy looked blankly at Anya, who rolled her eyes. "Apparently not. Just trust me then—he'd be worth it. And the way he does that little curl thing with his tongue…"

"If he's such a catch, why don't you go after him?" Buffy was surprised as her inner voice screamed "No!" at the thought of Anya and Spike, but she pushed it down.

"No, I'll pass. I have my eye set on someone else."

"Xander?"

"Well, yeah. I'm making my move tonight. I'm sick of waiting for him. It's tiresome, and a waste of time that we could be spending having sex."

"Good luck with that," Buffy replied. She felt relief that Anya didn't seem to want Spike, but ignored that, too.

"Thanks. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow at work."

Buffy smirked. She knew she would.

*** *** ***

"I like your friends."

Buffy looked up, slightly startled as she head Spike speak. She closed the door to their apartment, crossing the kitchen to sit on the couch as he turned on the floor lamp in the living room. "They seemed to like you, too. Anya especially." She added the last part as almost a mutter.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Buffy looked up, studying his face to see how he'd react. "She thinks you're hot."

Spike chuckled. "'Course she does. I am. Noticed she went home with Xander. Bet he's happy, seeing as she's all he talked about when we ducked out for a bit. I'm getting a beer—you want anything from the kitchen?"

"No, I'm fine."

Buffy toed off her shoes and leaned against the back of the couch. She felt satisfied by Spike's seeming disinterest in Anya, but as was becoming her pattern, she chose not to analyze it. "Have you seen anymore of that Harmony girl?"

"A little," Spike replied, coming back over to the couch and sitting down. He took a drink from his beer bottle. "She follows the Dingoes wherever they play. Oz says it's a new development, so she's probably hoping to run into me."

"You haven't brought her back here again."

"You asked me not to."

"But you haven't spent the night anywhere else either."

"You don't have to spend the whole night with someone, pet."

Buffy frowned at the thoughts that statement brought to her mind. The idea of Spike have brief encounters with Harmony disturbed her even more than when she'd known they'd spent the night together on her couch. Something about the whole arrangement seemed cheap to her, and she didn't like the thought of Spike in that sort of relationship. She reminded herself it wasn't any of her business. "I'm tired," she announced, standing up. "Thanks for coming out with me tonight."

"Thanks for wanting me along."

Buffy gave him a brief smile and went into her room, shutting the door.

*** *** ***

When Buffy went into the kitchen the next morning, she noticed the beer Spike had had when they'd gotten home that night had not been his only one. Four empty bottles stood by the microwave. She gathered them up, dumping them in the bag that held the recyclables, the glass clinking against the others that were already in there.

Buffy ran her fingers through her hair, grateful that the only thing she had besides class today was a short afternoon shift at the bakery. The thought of hearing about the sexploits of Xander and Anya didn't thrill her, although she had to admit she was vaguely curious as to how their night went—only not once things got sweaty. That she found more disturbing than anything else.

She glanced back at the couch where Spike was asleep and thought back to what Anya had said the night before. Buffy had dismissed the thought of Spike being attracted to her outright then, but now she found herself wondering if maybe Anya's observations held more merit than Buffy had given them. Was it possible Spike actually was attracted to her?

Buffy shook her head, dismissing that possibility again. Spike didn't want her—a fact for which she was glad. If he liked women like that Harmony, then Buffy wasn't even his type. And she didn't want to be. She wasn't attracted to Spike, she was sure. And even if she was—which she wasn't, she told herself firmly—then any sort of relationship would still be a bad idea. Sex would only complicate things, and any attraction between them would fizzle quickly. Then things would be awkward, to say the least.

No, there wouldn't be anything between them. Buffy made up her mind on that. Anya could think whatever she wanted, but Buffy was set on keeping things between her and her roommate strictly platonic.

With that resolution, Buffy went into the bathroom to get ready for class.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 6:

Spike had been out when Buffy returned from school that day, and when he got home, he found her sitting on the couch, staring at the wall. Her face was red and splotchy, making it obvious that she had been crying.

"Are you all right, pet?" Spike asked, walking over and sitting beside her.

Buffy wiped at her eyes, trying to smile. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. Wanna talk?"

"You don't want to hear about my problems, Spike."

"Sure I do. And it helps to talk things out, you know."

Buffy looked at him, the softness and concern on his face making her want to open up to him, even if it was just a little. She'd always held things in, tried to make herself be strong, but at the moment, she wanted to be vulnerable. "It's not even really my problem, I guess. I just…Mom just called."

Spike frowned. "You two had a falling out at some point, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that's not what this was about. She just called to tell me that my best friend from junior high and part of high school got sentenced to life in prison today. I haven't really spoken to her since, well, pretty much since she started on the path that led her to prison, but…she used to be my closest friend, you know? We were like sisters. To think about her now, rotting away in some jail cell—even if she did kill a guy—is hard."

"Your mum say what happened?"

"Yeah. There was this guy she started hanging with in high school. He was older than her by a lot, and everyone thought they were having some sort of illicit affair. She already had a rep for being, um, less than chaste. But I don't think they were. She told me it wasn't like that, and I believed her. Her parents were horrible, and she was just so desperate to have some sort of parental love in life that she looked past what a sleezeball this guy was. I remember one time when we were first friends, she spent the night at my house. My mom came in to say goodnight, and she hugged both of us. When she hugged Faith, well, she held my mom so tight that for a moment I didn't think she was going to let her go. Even then as a kid, when I didn't really understand how rough things were for her at home, that made my heart hurt for her. She was desperate just to have some hug her, to show even that much affection."

Spike had taken her hand while Buffy was talking, noting that it was shaking. Buffy didn't pull away. "This bloke she fell in with—he the one she killed?"

Buffy shook her head. "No. According to the news, it was for him though. He'd gotten into some sort of trouble, and someone was going to turn him into the cops. Faith killed the guy before he could say anything. Wilkins—the bastard—of course went and said that he had nothing to do with it, and that Faith was just a 'very unstable girl.' Tried to pretend that she had some freaky obsession with him, and that he barely even knew her. But then when the truth started coming out, he disappeared—probably left the country. He was everything to her—she killed for him—and he just threw her to the wolves."

Spike rubbed her hand soothingly, and Buffy had the sudden urge to curl up in his arms and beg him to make all the hurting stop. The gentleness in his eyes made her believe for a moment that he could. But she pushed the thought away as foolish. "You know what really gets me?" Buffy said after being quiet for a moment. "I feel like I could've helped her. That I should've paid more attention to her spiraling downward in high school. That maybe if I'd been less caught up in my own drama-rama I could've saved her."

"Sometimes you can't save people, Buffy. No matter how hard you try or what you do, some people are just going to keep going down that self-destructive past."

"Why?" Buffy asked, the tears coming again. "Why can't I save the people I love? Why do I just get them killed instead?"

"Get who killed? This Faith girl isn't dead, is she?"

Buffy paled and snatched her hand away from Spike. "I didn't say anything about anyone dying."

"Um, yes you did, pet. You said 'Why do I just get them killed instead?'"

Buffy pulled her knees up to her chest. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Buffy, you need to…"

"No! God, I've done the talking, and the therapy, and none of it fucking helped, all right! So why don't you just mind your own damn business!" Buffy got up and went into her bedroom, slamming the door and leaving a stunned Spike on the couch.

*** *** ***

Several hours later, Buffy reemerged from her room. Spike could tell that she'd been crying for probably the whole time she'd been in there, and he couldn't bring himself to be upset at her for her earlier outburst.

"I tried to kill myself."

Spike looked up sharply. "What? Now?!"

Buffy giggled, although it sounded almost hysterical. "No. After…after graduation. You mentioned earlier about my mom and me having a 'falling out.' That was why. I tried to kill myself, and she sent me to a mental institution. I was there for about a month, and then I came here and went to school. Sorry for my freak attack earlier, but I guess all of this just stirred some stuff up. You're not mad at me, are you?"

Spike tried to absorb what she'd just told him. He'd known she had some badness in her past, but he wasn't quite expecting that. And to top it off, he had a feeling that what she'd just told him was only scratching the surface. "No, kitten, I'm not mad."

Buffy smiled, a little too brightly. "Great. Hey, I'm starved, and I really don't feel like cooking. There's a great pizza place nearby that delivers. Wanna splurge a bit?"

"Buffy…"

"Spike, really, I'm fine. I just want pizza, okay?"

Spike knew that pushing her anymore tonight wouldn't be a good idea. He'd known that Buffy was emotionally fragile despite her attempts to convince the world around her otherwise, but now he realized more to what extent that fragility went. And if there'd been a suicide attempt, well, trying to force things out of her probably wouldn't be a good idea. "Pizza it is then. My treat."

"You don't have to…"

"I know, but I want to." Spike gave her a grin that made Buffy forget for a moment that she'd even been depressed. "So, Miss Summers, what do you like on your pizza?"

*** *** ***

Buffy and Spike sat on the floor of the living room, the mostly-empty pizza box between them. "So," Buffy asked, wiping grease off her fingers with a napkin, "How exactly did you end up with a nickname like Spike anyway?"

Spike swallowed the bite of pizza he'd been chewing. "Oh, that. From torturing my victims with railroad spikes," he replied casually.

Buffy gaped for a moment. "You are kidding, right?"

Spike did his best evil smirk. "Would you sleep better with me in the apartment if I said yes?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You are such a freak. And you're not going to tell me about the nickname are you?"

"Nope."

"Jerk," Buffy muttered, reaching for another slice.

"Oi! Heard that."

"I meant you to." Spike's napkin flew from his hand across to her, bumping lightly against her forehead before tumbling to the ground. "Hey! I upgrade that jerk to a, um, super jerk." Spike raised an eyebrow, and Buffy couldn't help but start laughing.

Spike smiled, loving the way she sounded when she laughed. It was a sound he rarely heard, and it was beautiful. "Think you could hand me my napkin back?" he asked.

"No way. This thing is a weapon in your hands, mister," Buffy replied, wagging the rumpled paper napkin at him.

"Fine," Spike said with a shrug. "I'll just wipe my hands on your carpet."

"Oh no you don't!" Buffy replied, throwing the napkin back at him. "There. Just greasy hands off the carpet."

They went back to their dinner, and after a moment, Buffy put her half-eaten pizza slice on her plate, her mood obviously becoming somber again as she picked at the toppings. "Something wrong?" Spike asked.

"I…I was thinking about Faith," Buffy said. "She doesn't get to do this anymore. She's in a cell right now, all alone in the world. She can't sit with a friend and eat pizza and goof off. Even if she manages to make parole in who knows how many years, she'll never be the same. Her life is ruined. Forever."

"That isn't your fault. There's nothing you could've done. Nothing. You didn't force her to listen to that guy, and you certainly didn't put the weapon in her hand and set her off to kill anyone."

"It's just, well, what if I had done things differently? What if I gotten my mom to let her stay with us, given her a chance at a normal life? Would she be in prison right now? Or would she be here with us, laughing, too?"

"You can't beat yourself up over the past, Buffy. It's useless—nothing about it will ever change. Just wasted energy."

"But what if there's something in your past so bad that you can't help but beat yourself up over it, Spike? Then what? What if there's something so horrible there that it tears at you constantly, shadowing everything you do until you just can't stand it anymore? How can you live with that?"

"This isn't just about Faith, is it?"

Buffy stood up. "I'm going to bed. Can you clean up?"

"Buffy…"

Buffy didn't listen to him, only going into her room, shutting him out again. Spike sighed and started cleaning up what was left from dinner.

*** *** ***

He could hear her crying. It was soft, muffled, but he could hear it nonetheless. Spike sat on the couch, willing himself not to go to Buffy. She obviously didn't want him coming into that part of her life, despite the small bit of opening up she'd done.

As the sound of her tears got louder, Spike couldn't take it anymore. He went into her room without a word, getting into the bed with her and wrapping his arms around her. Buffy stiffened for only a moment before she let herself be held, sobbing against Spike's chest. He smoothed her hair, murmuring soft words to her until the tears died down and she fell asleep in his arms.

*** *** ***

Spike woke when he felt Buffy scrambling to get out of his embrace. She sat up, a wild look on her face, and he wondered for a moment if she was going to hit him. But then realization seemed to set in, and she relaxed a little. "Didn't expect to wake up next to you," she said. "Made me a little…disoriented."

"I noticed," Spike replied, sitting up as well. He tried to push down his hair, knowing it had to be a mess.

Buffy's tongue darted out to lick her lips as she saw him run his fingers though his sexy, tousled curls. She shook her head, pushing those thoughts back to the part of her mind marked "denial" where she had decided to keep them. "I'm really sorry about last night, Spike. I don't know what got into me."

"Your friend got sentenced to life in prison, Buffy. That entitles you to a little bit of freaking out." Spike gave her a soft smile.

"Still… Thank you for being so nice to me—and for helping me fall asleep. You didn't have to do that."

"Sure I did. What sort of friend would I be if I just left you in here by yourself to cry all night?"

Buffy smiled, looking down to escape the intensity of his eyes. "I…I know I was a bitch at first, but I'm glad you're here, Spike. And not just because I have groceries now."

"Even if all I was to you was a little more money coming in, I'd be happy to be that. And hey, I found out yesterday that Devon is officially out of the Dingoes, and I'm officially in, so I should be able to help out more with the bills now. They get booked fairly regularly."

"That's great!" Buffy said, looking back up at him. "And not just the bills thing, although yeah, that's gonna be nice, but that you found a band to play with."

"Yeah, I'm happy about it. And they're willing to look at some of my songs and think about adding them to their shows, so that's a plus for me, too."

"You write songs?"

To Buffy's surprise, Spike blushed slightly. "Some. I…I could use a lot of work on them, but some are decent."

"I'm sure they're better than decent," Buffy said, playfully slapping his arm. "Think maybe you could play some of them for me sometime?"

"Maybe," Spike said.

"What, so you're willing to play them in front of a room full of strangers, but not me?"

"Exactly. Your opinion means much more to me than a stranger's."

"It does?"

"Well, yeah. I care what you think."

Buffy looked at him for a moment, wondering when exactly he'd gone from someone she barely tolerated to a friend. He'd shown her a softness below all his tough-guy exterior, and she'd found it impossible not to warm up to him. She glanced over at the clock, frowning at the time. "Dammit, I missed my first class."

"You probably needed the sleep," Spike said. "I wouldn't worry about it too much."

"Yeah, but it was with Walsh, the bitch professor from hell." Buffy sighed. "I better get ready before I miss the next one, too."

"You sure you're up to it?"

Buffy forced a smile. "I'm fine, really. Yeah, hearing about Faith got me all wigged, but I'm good now."

Spike didn't believe her for a second, but he didn't want to do something that would cause another breakdown either. "All right. I'll go back to the couch and let you get ready then."

Buffy nodded. As Spike stood up, she said, "Thanks again for everything last night. That…meant a lot to me."

"Just glad I could be here," Spike replied before leaving her alone in the bedroom.

*** *** ***

 

Chapter 7:

"Wow, Buffy. That's really…well, freaky. I mean, it would freak me out if I was in your shoes," Willow said after Buffy had used a lull during work to relate to the redhead the story of Faith.

Buffy shrugged. "It's no big. I mean, I guess it is for Faith—and that guy she killed—but, I mean, I haven't seen her since she dropped out of school at the beginning of our junior year. And we hadn't really been hanging much before that either."

"Still, your former best friend going to prison…"

"She made some bad choices, and now she's dealing with the consequences," Buffy said as she grabbed a rag and stared to wipe off the counter. "But hey, on a good note, Spike hooked up with a band, so there will now be more money coming into my household."

Willow raised an eyebrow. "Spike's an official part of your household now?"

"Uh, well, it's not like his name's on the lease or anything, but he doesn't act like he's going anywhere soon. He might as well help with the paying of the bills."

"That all?" Willow nudged Buffy's arm. "I saw you two at my apartment the other night."

"That's because we were both there. If you hadn't seen us, you would've been blind."

"No, silly." Willow leaned down, whispering almost conspiratorially. "The sparkage."

Buffy's eyes widened. "Sparkage? There was no sparkage! As a matter of fact, there was the opposite of sparkage! There was negative sparkage!"

Willow held up her hands. "Fine, be denial girl if you want to be, but I saw sparkage—especially when we were eating dinner. Tara saw it, too."

"You're both insane."

The door opened, and Willow and Buffy looked up. They relaxed when they saw it wasn't a customer but Anya, who immediately came towards the counter, fixing her hair as she did. "Anya Jenkins—late? Is the world ending?" Buffy asked, grateful for the distraction from the turn her conversation with Willow had taken.

"I had car trouble," Anya replied as she came behind the counter.

"Uh, you don't have a car," Willow pointed out.

Anya rolled her eyes. "I had trouble in a car then."

"What sort of trouble?" Buffy asked.

"Okay, fine. I had sex in a car. I met Xander when he had a break between classes, and we sort of lost track of time." Anya glanced around. "Is Rat Man here?"

"Nah, Snyder hasn't shown," Buffy replied.

"We were kinda hoping he died," Willow added.

"I had a dream he was eaten by a giant snake," Buffy said perkily. "We were pulling for it to turn out to be prophetic."

"That's something even I'd willing fork over money to see," Anya said. "He drives me crazy with his inability to properly and efficiently run a money-making operation. That, and his beady little eyes disturb me. I can't wait until I have everything settled enough to start my own business."

"How are things coming with that?" Buffy asked.

"Good. I think the bank's actually going to approve my loan, and I've found a space I'll be able to afford. If everything goes smoothly, I should soon have joined the proud ranks of the American small business owners."

"And you'll remember us when you're Snyder-free, right?" Willow asked with a smile.

"Of course!" Anya replied, putting one arm around Willow and the other around Buffy. "Who would I want working for me but my two favorite girls?" Anya giggled, pulling back from them. "Well, I'm off to balance the books. Have fun selling food!" Anya went into the back office, shutting the door behind her.

"Wow, she's in a good mood," Willow said once she and Buffy were alone again. "She didn't even rant about the lack of customers in here."

"I know," Buffy replied. "Maybe she should have sex before work every day."

"With Xander and his libido, that can probably be arranged." Willow shuddered. "And I really don't want to go there."

"Neither do I, but if they're happy, I'm happy for them."

"It may not be the match I would have envisioned him making, but I like it when my friends are happily attached," Willow said, giving Buffy a pointed look.

"What? I'm happily unattached, thank you very much. Besides, it's not like I have any worthwhile prospects anyway."

"Whatever you say, oh denier of Spike sparkage. And even if he doesn't do it for you, there's still Riley. You can't tell me you haven't been at least a little tempted by his offers."

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, Riley can be rather…tempting, but I just don't know, Will. He's very nice, and I've been tempted by the nice before—it didn't end well."

"You mean Parker? That was years ago, and I know Riley can't be that much of a jerk."

"Parker and, well, other things. I had a relationship in high school that didn't end well."

Willow nodded. She knew something had happened to Buffy back in California, but she'd learned in her time as Buffy's friend not to pry. It only made Buffy shut down more. "Maybe Riley could help you move on," Willow suggested. "He really is a good guy, Buffy."

"I know, it's just… Customer!" A man walked in, and Buffy put on her best "may I help you" smile as she went over to the register, effectively putting an end to the conversation.

*** *** ***

Buffy walked straight to the couch as soon as she got home, flopping down ungracefully. "Long day?" Spike asked from beside her. Buffy grunted. "I'll take that as a yes."

"I want to curl up and sleep for a month. Ooh, maybe a year. Or better yet, maybe I can learn Rip Van Winkle's secret. God, I hate it when I'm stuck working both jobs on the same day."

"Are you hungry? There are some leftovers in the fridge I could heat up for you."

"Would you really? I'm starved."

"Sure thing, kitten. You just relax, and I'll get you all fixed up."

"I'm going to change out of this horrible uniform they make me wear, and I'll be back in a minute," Buffy said. "That is, if I can get my legs to work."

Spike stood, holding his hand out to her. "Come on, princess. To your feet."

"My painful, swollen feet," Buffy muttered, taking his hand. As Spike pulled her up, she wobbled slightly, falling forward against him. Spike slipped an arm behind her to keep her from falling backwards, too, managing to pin her against his chest in the process. Buffy stared up at him, her eyes wide. She could feel his warmth even with their clothes between them, and her heart started beating rapidly.

To either her relief or disappointment—she wasn't sure which—Spike set her upright again and let go of her. "Careful there, pet. Don't want to hurt yourself."

"It was just a little stumble. No big."

"All right then. You go change, and I'll get your dinner."

Buffy nodded and went into her room. As soon as the door was shut, Spike let out a deep breath. Two seconds of Buffy in his arms, and his nerves were going haywire. She'd looked up at him with her big green eyes, and it had taken all his willpower not to kiss her senseless. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way towards her, but he couldn't help it. She was so strong, yet vulnerable at the same time. He wanted nothing more than to make her pain go away, to give her everything she could ever need.

"That's the same kind of thinking that got you hurt with Drusilla, mate," he muttered to himself. "You opened your heart to her, and she tore it out."

Spike rolled his eyes, realizing that Buffy not only had his emotions in a tizzy, but she was also causing him to talk to himself. He sighed and went to the fridge, pulling out the Tupperware containers with the leftovers from the meal he'd cooked earlier in the week.

*** *** ***

After dinner, Buffy and Spike returned to the couch, settling on some mindless television to watch. Spike could see the circles under her eyes, exhaustion written clearly on her features. "Feet still hurting you, luv?" he asked.

"A little," Buffy replied. "They're letting me know they did not approve of the amount of standing I did today."

Spike patted his lap. "Swing 'em up here."

"Huh?"

"Would you just trust me?"

At that, Buffy did as he asked without any further argument, and Spike took one of her feet in his hands, massaging it gently. Buffy sighed happily. "You're really good at that," she said.

"It's a useful skill," Spike replied, smiling at the look of bliss on Buffy's face. "This helping you, pet?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Spike switched to the other foot, giving it the same treatment. "I give a pretty damn good back rub, too."

"Really? I might have to take you up on that sometime."

"Anytime you want, these hands are yours."

Spike's words and the look he was giving her made Buffy's stomach flip. Why did he have to be so damn sexy? This would be so much easier on her if he looked like say, Peter Lorre. But no. He had to be gorgeous. Wait…when had she decided Spike equaled gorgeous? Buffy frowned.

"Something the matter?" Spike asked.

"No. I was just…thinking."

"This isn't making you uncomfortable, is it?"

"No, not at all," Buffy replied. And honestly, it wasn't. The problem was it was making her a little too comfortable.

After a moment, Spike stopped. "Better now?"

"Very. Thanks."

"Just glad I could help."

Buffy moved her feet off Spike's lap, noticing how much better they really did feel. The thought "magic hands" went through her mind before an image of what other "magic" they could be capable of flashed through her mind, and she had to look down to hide her blush. She couldn't believe she was having these thoughts about Spike. She decided to blame Willow and her damn "sparkage" claims. It was just her mind reacting to that conversation. Nothing more.

Spike stretched his arms up, resting his hands behind his head as he watching the television. His new position pulled his shirt taut over his chest, and Buffy could see each one of his muscles clearly defined. Her mouth went dry as her fingers itched to touch him.

This was bad, Buffy decided. Very, very bad. She stood up, forcing a yawn. "Well, I'm beat. See you in the morning."

"Rushing off so soon?"

"It's late. I have to work tomorrow. Have a good night, Spike."

"Sleep well, Buffy."

Buffy gave him a nod and practically ran into her room. As soon as she was safely inside, she sat on her bed, taking a deep breath. She forced herself to calm down, reminding herself that it was just Spike. No need to get worked up.

She turned off the light and got under the covers, fighting her thoughts until she finally went to sleep.

*** *** ***

The sounds coming from Buffy's room were soft, but Spike knew they were what had woken him. He went to the door, opening it slowly and peaking in. Light trickled in from a streetlamp outside the window, and he could see the tears streaming down Buffy's cheeks as she tossed and whimpered in her sleep.

Spike went to the bed, sitting on the edge and shaking her gently. When she didn't wake, he pulled her up so she was sitting, his hands on her shoulders. Buffy's eyes snapped open, her look wild and confused. She blinked as she became aware of her surroundings. "Sp…Spike?"

"Yeah. You were having a bad dream, pet."

Buffy sniffled. "It wasn't just a dream," she said softly. "It…it…" He voice trailed off as she began to cry again, slumping forward on Spike's chest.

Spike held her loosely against him, rubbing her back as he whispered softly against her ear. When the sobs wracking her tiny body finally subsided, her lowered her back down to the bed, tucking the blankets around her. "Are you going to be okay, luv?" he asked, wiping her tears away with his thumb.

"I…I don't know." Her voice was small and scared, and Spike wanted more than anything to be able to take her pain away, whatever was causing it. "Could you maybe hold me? Like you did last night?"

"Of course, Buffy. Whatever you need." Spike got into bed next to her, opening his arms to her. Buffy moved into his embrace without hesitation, burying her face against his chest as she cried. Spike held her tightly, trying to be strong for her when she felt weak. "I'm here, Buffy," he said softly, pressing gentle kisses into her hair. "You don't have to be alone anymore."

Buffy shook at his words, her grip around him tightening. "It…it hurts so much," she said. "So much…"

"I know, luv. I know. Let it all out. I won't let you go."

Buffy did as he told her to, crying against him until she was too tired to cry anymore. Still clinging to him, she fell asleep.

*** *** ***

If you're reading this, please review. It would be very much appreciated. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far!
 

Chapter 8:

Buffy didn't know when sleeping next to Spike had become a habit, didn't know when it had become simply an assumption that he would share her bed at night. He'd climb in beside her without a word spoken between them, and she'd let herself be drawn into his arms. If he was out playing with the band when she went to bed, she could only manage at best an uneasy sleep—until he joined her again. Then she could sleep soundly, the tears and nightmares melting away in his soothing embrace.

She wasn't sure when it had started, but she knew when she noticed it. Buffy woke one work-free Sunday afternoon to find Spike watching her. One of her legs was thrown over his hip, and his arm was casually draped around her waist. She realized that despite the intimacy of their position, it was familiar. She was wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and panties—which were showing as the t-shirt rode up the leg draped over him. He was wearing an old pair of sweatpants, his chest bare and pressed against her. He hadn't styled his hair since the time he'd showered, and the curls were free, softening his usual bad boy look. Still, she was comfortable here with him like this, and that made her realize how normal this had become.

Buffy wasn't sure how long he'd been awake, but she got the feeling it had been a while. Suddenly, she became aware of how exactly she was pressed up against him—and what effect it was having on him. Her heart started to beat faster, loud enough to drown out any warnings in the back of her mind that she shouldn't let him be this close.

Spike reached out slowly until the tips of his fingers were barely resting on her cheek. Buffy shivered at his ghost of a touch. She looked into his eyes and realized that she couldn't have moved away, even if she wanted to. The intensity of his gaze had her locked in place. When she didn't pull back, Spike trailed his fingers up her cheek, then up to run them through her hair. Buffy's breathing became more labored, her heart now hammering in her chest. She felt fear warring with her desire, but she was frozen.

Then, he spoke for the first time that morning. "I'm going to kiss you, Buffy."

There it was. Her out. He paused after he spoke, giving her ample time to get away if she wanted. She didn't. She stayed in place even as he moved closer, his breath mingling with hers as his lips fell to hers. The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory, but soon it grew in passion until their tongues were dueling, allowing them to taste each other. Buffy wrapped her arms tightly around him, needing something to ground her as the world spun around her. She didn't remember the last time she'd been kissed like this.

She didn't think she'd ever been kissed like this…

And then it hit her. She was doing what she'd sworn she wasn't going to do. It wasn't safe. She couldn't take this chance. She'd been down this road before, and she knew where it led. She pushed him away.

Spike blinked, taken aback at the sudden violence as Buffy fought to get away from him. He let her go.

Buffy ran into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. She grabbed on to the edge of the counter, breathing quickly and sporadically. How had she let this happen? If she thought about it, she barely even knew Spike. He'd been in her life—in her home—for about a month. He'd been in her bed for a couple of weeks, and Buffy knew now she'd let him get too close. She wouldn't let anyone in like that, not after all that had happened.

She reached up, fingers grazing against the ring she wore on the chain around her neck. She'd opened up to someone before, let him into her life, her body, her soul. In the end, it had almost broken her. She wouldn't go through it again, wouldn't allow herself to fall for someone like that. She couldn't take another heartache. As it was, she was barely hanging on. She did her best to present herself as strong to the world, but she knew that when she'd broken, she hadn't been able to put the pieces back together they way they'd been before. There were still cracks.

Her hand went from the Claddagh to her lips. They still tingled from the kiss she'd shared with Spike. From the first touch, she'd felt a spark shoot through her, electrifying her, making her feel alive. But as wonderful as it had felt for that brief moment, it had scared her, too. It was too familiar, too much like when she'd let herself fall before. She'd learned that with a fire that hot, all you got was burned.

She shook her head, forcing back tears. She wouldn't do it, wouldn't risk it. She'd do whatever it took to keep herself safe.

She had to.

*** *** ***

Spike lay on the bed, stunned by what had just happened. He hadn't planned on kissing Buffy, but she'd seemed receptive, and he'd made the decision to act on the desire he'd felt since the first time he saw her five years ago. For a few glorious moments, he'd had her, felt her in his arms. Then suddenly, she'd taken it all away. Without a word, she'd changed completely, running way from him as if his touch was the last thing in the world she could ever want.

He heard the shower turn on and stood up, angrily untangling the sheets from around his legs when they tried to trip him up and throwing them in a wad on the bed. He'd had his fill of her closed off behavior. She would let him in for a moment—turn to him for support—then shut herself off again. He'd tolerated it for a while now, but his patience was wearing thin. She was either going to let him in or she wasn't. He needed her to make up her mind.

When Buffy finally came out of the bathroom, Spike walked into the living room, stalking towards her. "We need to talk."

Buffy's eyes widened, and she tightened her robe around her. "No, we don't. There's nothing to talk about."

"We kissed, Buffy."

"It was a mistake."

Spike's jaw ticked, and Buffy could tell he was fighting the urge to yell at her. "Didn't feel like a mistake."

"Maybe for you." Buffy brushed past him, going into the bedroom to get dressed.

Spike didn't let it end there. He followed her, ignoring her indignant glare. "You can't just shut me out, Buffy."

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are! You ran off, and now you won't talk to me at all!"

Buffy put her hands on her hips. "Fine. We'll talk. This is a bad idea. Nothing good can come from us making with the smoochies."

Spike moved closer to her, like an animal stalking its prey. "Felt pretty good to me," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Buffy almost forgot why she was pushing him away, but she quickly regained her senses. "No… It's not a good idea, Spike. Not good at all."

Spike crossed his arms in front of him. "Convince me."

Buffy sighed, wishing he wouldn't make this so difficult. "What if things don't work out?"

"What?"

"We're roommates, Spike. What if we start this, and things go wrong? It would be awkward."

"If that happened, we'd find a way to deal."

"Our parents are married," Buffy said, her tone making it obviously that she was simply trying to come up with whatever she could think of to "convince" Spike. "That would be majorly weird."

"You're not my sister. I've never thought of you like that. I really don't care who my father is married to, and honestly, I don't think you do either."

"I do! Us together is just wrong!"

"Do you think of me as your brother?"

Buffy was silent for a moment as she contemplated how to answer. If she said yes, he might let this all drop. She could be free from her feelings. But she couldn't bring herself to say it. Even the thought of pretending that was the truth disturbed her. "Look, I said I didn't want this. Just let that be enough and stop harassing me about it."

"Buffy…"

"Leave me alone, Spike. Just leave me alone."

Spike moved away from her. "Fine." He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Buffy sat down on the bed. Why couldn't he just let things be like they were? Why did he have to complicate it with wanting more?

Buffy frowned. She knew the answer to that question. He was feeling the same thing she was. But he didn't realize what a mistake it would be. She did. She couldn't let it happen. She got up and dressed.

As soon as she was presentable, she went to the door, her hand stopping before she turned the knob. Could she honestly go out there now and pretend like everything was okay? She went back to her bed, sitting against the pillows.

It didn't take her long to get bored. She picked up a book she was reading for class, but she couldn't concentrate on the words, not with him so close. Frustrated, she threw the book down and put on her shoes.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy stepped out into the living room. Spike was sitting on the couch, an open beer bottle resting between his legs. "I'm going to the library," Buffy announced.

"I don't care where you go, Buffy."

As much as Buffy hated to admit it, his words and his refusal to look at her hurt. "Fine. See you later."

"Whatever."

Buffy grabbed her things off the table and left the apartment.

*** *** ***

Buffy couldn't find any solace in the library either. It was too quiet, nothing to distract her from her thoughts. She kept replaying the kiss with Spike over and over, unable to force it to the back of her mind. But she couldn't let herself go there. It would be dangerous.

"Is this seat taken?"

Buffy looked up to see Riley standing on the other side of the small study table. "Uh, no. Have a seat."

Riley gave her a grin that reminded her a little of a boy scout. "Thanks. So, um, what brings you to the library?"

"Books."

"Yeah, they have them here." Riley winced. "That was lame, I know."

Buffy gave him a small smile. "Just a little."

"Hey, you want to get some coffee? I know you said you weren't interested in dating before, and I'm not trying to push you into that, so don't worry. You just look like you could use some coffee."

Buffy thought about it for a moment. She could use some coffee. Preferably of the Irish variety, but she doubted that was what Riley was offering. And Riley…he was safe. He didn't make her feel like he could turn her whole world upside down. She shut the book she hadn't really been reading anyway. "I would love some coffee."

Riley smiled again. "Great! Let's go then."

*** *** ***

 

Chapter 9:

Buffy sat across from Riley in a cozy booth. Her hands were wrapped around an oversized coffee mug, and she wondered who had been the first person to have the idea to put coffee in such large cups. Wouldn't it make more sense just to have mugs be taller? It wasn't easy to drink anything when the cup was almost the size of your whole face and it took two hands just to grasp it. Besides, she was always afraid she'd drop it, and that much coffee would just ruin an outfit. Wearing light colored clothes and drinking coffee from an enormous mug was just…

Buffy's chain of thought came to an abrupt stop when she remembered Riley was talking to her. She tuned back in to the one-sided conversation, realizing he was still talking about the same subject he'd been on when her mind had drifted off, and he was apparently oblivious to the fact she hadn't been listening. She had never realized that Iowa could be the topic of such a long monologue. Before today, she'd though it was nothing but corn, but now she realized it was also home to Mrs. Finn's award-winning pies.

His childhood sounded so stereotypically normal, like he'd lived inside a show Buffy would flip past on TV Land. His father stayed and supported his family while his mother worked towards having the perfect household. No painful divorce, no stay in a mental institution. All smiles and farms and pies. This guy was the very portrait of stability.

So he didn't make her knees weak or her head swoon. He didn't make her feel like she'd die if she wasn't with him. Buffy decided that had to be a good thing. What did that sort of thing lead to anyway? Pain, heartache, and loneliness. Wasn't it the wiser choice to go for something safe and dependable?

Buffy also knew if she didn't do something soon, she wouldn't be able to stop things with Spike. She was too drawn to him, and she needed a deterrent. She needed someone who could show her how much better off she was when she was safe. "I've changed my mind," she blurted out.

Riley stopped in mid-sentence. "Huh?"

"You told me to let you know if I changed my mind about dating you, and I have—unless it's too late that is."

"It’s not too late at all," Riley said, his bewildered expression quickly turning to a smile. "What made you change your answer?"

"I realized I wasn't really giving you a fair shot. I've been burned in the past, and it's made me shy away from dating. But you seem like a really nice guy, and there's no reason why I shouldn't give you a chance."

Riley reached across the table and placed his hand over Buffy's. All she could think was how small he made her hand look. No tingles, no mix of emotions making her feel like she could fly and fall at the same time. It was only another hand on top of her own. "I won't make you regret this, Buffy," he told her. "You're a very special lady and you deserve to be treated that way."

"I'm free tomorrow nigh if that's good for you."

Riley grinned, moving their hands so they were resting together in the center of the table. Buffy wondered if he'd keep them there because it would be difficult for her to pick up her coffee one-handed. "I'm free tomorrow. When's a good time for me to pick you up?"

"You don't have to pick me up. I can just meet you somewhere."

Riley gave her hand a squeeze. "Nonsense. I pride myself too much on being a gentleman not to pick you up and make sure you get home safely."

"Well, how does eight-thirty sound then?"

Riley's grin broadened. "It sounds perfect."

*** *** ***

It was dark as Spike stumbled into the apartment, but he didn't think to turn on the light. Instead, he went right for Buffy's bedroom, habit telling him that's where he should be. He grasped the handle, but it didn't turn. Frowning, Spike shook it. Was it broken?

No, something in his mind told him. Not broken. Locked. The memory he'd spent all night trying to forget broke through the haze then and reminded him that Buffy didn't want him in there. He'd been a stupid git, taken things too far, and now she didn't want him to hold her anymore. Just sleeping with her in his arms had been among the most wonderful experiences of his life, and he'd gone and ruined it.

But she'd known he was going to kiss her. He'd told her, and she'd let him. If she hadn't wanted him, why didn't she push him away to begin with?

He found his way back to the couch, lying down and staring up at the shadowed ceiling. Harmony had offered to take him home that night. He could've been in her bed instead of this lumpy couch, could've woken up next to a woman he knew wouldn't reject him in the morning.

He hadn't been able to go with her. Not that the idea of easy sex wasn't appealing, but he hadn't wanted to leave Buffy alone all night. What if she had a nightmare that was too much for her to handle and she needed him? What if she unlocked the door and came looking for him, needing him to hold her until he could dull the pain? He'd never forgive himself if that happened and he was with Harmony. Buffy could need him…

Spike stayed awake for as long as he could, trying to listen for any sound that could mean Buffy was hurting, but it wasn't long until the night caught up with him and consciousness slipped away.

*** *** ***

When Buffy woke up the next morning, she found Spike passed out on the couch, much the way he had been in the early days of their living arrangement. Things had gone back to the way they were before she'd made the mistake of letting him too close. If she was lucky, they'd stay this way, and Buffy could have her life back. It should be a relief.

Buffy watched Spike, a frown tugging at her mouth. It should be a relief. So why wasn't it?

*** *** ***

Spike watched with a growing sense of dread as Buffy flitted between her bedroom and the bathroom, obviously getting ready to go somewhere. She kept her work schedule on a calendar by the fridge so he knew it was her night off. Besides, she wore a uniform to work—and didn't put this much of an effort into her hair. He could see her reflection in the bathroom mirror from his position on the couch, and she was painstakingly styling it with a curling iron. He knew she could be going out with one of her friends, Willow maybe, but somehow he doubted it.

He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that was telling him she had a date. They hadn't talked since the previous morning, and the thought that she was so quickly jumping to someone else made him either sad or angry, he wasn't sure which. Possibly both.

When Buffy finished her hair and started towards the bedroom again, Spike stood and walked over to her, taking her by the arm. "Where are you going?"

Buffy pulled away. "It's not any of your business. You're gone all the time, and I never question you."

"That's different. I'm working."

"Is Harmony work?"

Spike decided not to broach that subject again with her. "I just want to know what's going on, Buffy. You shut me down, but you can go out with someone else the next day?"

"I never said anything about having a date, Spike."

"I'm not an idiot, Buffy. I can tell when a woman is getting ready for a date."

Buffy put her hands on her hips and jutted her chin out defiantly. "So what if I am? It's none of your business anyway."

Spike moved closer to her, and Buffy felt her body temperature rise. It wasn't fair that he could do this to her so easily. Her body should recognize his dangerousness as much as her mind did. "We have something here, Buffy," Spike said, his sensual voice rolling over her. "Heat…desire. You can't deny it."

"No," Buffy replied, trying to keep her voice steady but knowing she was failing. "This is wrong. We're wrong."

"No, we're not." Spike trailed his finger down her cheek, and Buffy gasped. "We could be so right, kitten. So very, very right."

He leaned in, and Buffy knew he was about to kiss her. Her whole body was trembling, and she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against hers again. His eyes, his mouth, god, that face… And his body… She wanted him in with an intensity she'd never felt before.

But this was the wrong thing to do. It would get her hurt again, and she didn't have enough strength left in her for that. She stepped back. "No. This is wrong. You're…you're like my brother." There, she'd said it. It was untrue, but if it would protect her, then she'd claim it wasn't.

Spike narrowed his eyes as he moved away from her. "Fine. Go get ready for your date, sis."

Buffy cringed. This felt wrong, too. It was just all wrong, and she didn't know where to go. Either way she felt like she was being ripped apart. She tried to think of something, anything to say to make it all right. This with Riley was supposed to ease her pain, not make it worse. She turned away from Spike, ducking back into the safety of her room.

*** *** ***

Spike knew the knock at the door was the date. He got up immediately, stalking towards the door to see the pillock who was daring to take out his Buffy. He shook his head. Not "his" Buffy. That was the problem, after all.

Buffy ran from her bedroom trying to beat Spike to the door, but she was too late. Spike opened up to Riley, and smirked. "Well, let's get a look at the boy," he said, his body language conveying anything but insecurity at Riley's superior size. If anything, it was Riley who looked nervous.

Buffy pushed Spike out of the way. "Hey, Riley. Sorry, I was just finishing getting ready."

Riley glanced nervously at Spike before smiling at Buffy. "Wow. You look…great."

Buffy blushed and accepted his compliment. Spike narrowed her eyes. She did look great—and it was all for an oversized git with a poncey name like Riley. "You better not keep her out too late, mate," Spike said, giving Riley his most menacing look.

"Um, and you are…?" Riley asked.

Spike stuck out his hand. "Folks call me Spike. I'm her brother." He grinned, making sure the expression was more scary than friendly.

Riley shook Spike's hand cautiously. "Um, nice to meet you…Spike. I didn't know Buffy had a brother."

"Oh the family doesn't talk about me much."

Spike could almost see Riley holding back the statement "I can see why." Let Riley fear him. Maybe it would keep him from touching Buffy.

"We should go, Riley," Buffy said, watching Spike from the corner of her eye. Why was he doing this to her? Couldn't he just accept that she wasn't going to let anything happen between them?

"Don't keep her out too late," Spike said, hands crossed over his chest. "And make sure you keep your busy hands to yourself."

"I'm never anything but a perfect gentleman," Riley said. "You can trust Buffy with me."

Spike narrowed his eyes. Like hell he could. He wouldn't trust Buffy with the bloody pope, never mind this guy. "You just bring her back the way you found her."

Buffy shot Spike a look. "We're going now," she informed him. "Have a good night."

"Yeah, you, too," Spike replied, making his sarcasm evident.

Buffy linked her arm with Riley's and led him out into the hall, shutting the door behind them. She could feel Spike glaring at them through the wood, and she let out a deep shaky breath as she walked away with Riley.

"Is your brother always that protective?"

"He's just…he doesn't have a lot of social skills. Can we possibly not talk about him?"

"Whatever you want, princess," Riley said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Buffy smiled at Riley wishing she wasn't suddenly feeling guilty.

*** *** ***
 

Chapter 10:

Buffy knew that the last subject that should be on her mind while she was on a date with Riley was Spike. She should be listening to Riley's very amusing anecdote about whatever it was he was currently talking about. Possibly something about…cheese? But her mind kept replaying the scene at the door with Spike, and something inside her was telling her she should feel guilty about it. But why? It wasn't as if she owed Spike anything. She'd offered him her home, not her heart.

She laughed at something Riley said, although she wasn't sure what exactly. It had merely seemed to be the proper social response at the time, and he appeared pleased that she'd given it. She wondered if she could do the whole night like this, feigning interest the way she had at the coffee shop. The way her mind was still reeling because of Spike she wasn't sure she could concentrate on much else. She knew that made her a horrible date, but…

"So what's life like for you back home?"

Dammit... Now she had to be part of the conversation. She sighed internally, realizing she wasn't really being fair to Riley. She had chosen to go on this date, which meant, of course, that she wanted to be there. She should be more of an active participant. She started to answer, and then had a moment of panic as she did a quick compare of her life to Riley's. What would he think of her if he knew how messed up things had gotten for her in the past and why she had felt she needed to get as far away as New York?

"It's great. Well, my parents got divorced right after I started high school, which was rough, but my mom remarried, and he's a wonderful guy. So family life…good."

"Is it just you and your brother?"

Riley's question confused Buffy for a moment. Brother? She didn't have a…oh. Right. "No. I have a younger sister. Dawn."

"Much better name than Spike," Riley commented.

"His name is William," Buffy said quickly, almost feeling as if she had to defend Spike.

"Oh." There was a pause for a moment before Riley asked another question. "Are you planning on staying here after you graduate, or are you going back to California?"

Why was he asking her that? Did he honestly expect her to know what she was going to be doing in the future when today was still a struggle? "I don't know," she admitted. "I'm just trying to get through to graduation. After that, well, I guess it will depend on where I can find a job."

"Do you know what career you're going for yet?"

Buffy suddenly felt like a loser. She had no clue where she was going, what she was going to do once college was over. "No," she said, feeling somewhat guilty that she hadn't planned out her future more now that she was faced with someone who so obviously had.

"Oh. Well, that's all right. You have time, I guess. Personally, I felt like I needed to have a plan as soon as I started college so I wouldn't waste any time trying out majors, but I know that's not possible for everyone."

Buffy decided not to own up to the fact that she'd "tried out" three different majors before settling on her current choice. She had a feeling Riley would meet that declaration with disapproval. "I looked at it as more of a self discovery thing," Buffy said. "Searching for your niche and all that."

"Yeah, that tends to be a popular take on the college experience. I just found it much more beneficial to see it as laying the groundwork for my future career."

"That's very…practical."

Riley's smile told Buffy he'd taken her response as praise, though she wasn't entirely sure she'd meant it to be. "What made you to settle on psych as your major?" Riley asked.

It was the third time in a rather short conversation that Buffy didn't feel comfortable with giving the whole truth as her answer. Riley was so normal, so together, it made her embarrassed for having such a screwed up life. She knew she couldn't tell him her interest in psychology came from her own past experience with having a less-than-clean bill of mental health. "I just find the inner workings of the human mind fascinating," she replied with her most chipper smile.

Before anything else could be said, the waiter arrived with their dinner. Buffy looked down and immediately regretted her meal choice, the sight of it reminding her too much of the first time Spike had cooked. Who would've thought that she'd start to equate pasta with Spike? She hated the way he kept creeping back into her thoughts. She was on this date in order to get herself to not think about him, not the other way around.

So she'd have to push him out of her mind for now, simple as that. She'd concentrate on the food, the restaurant, Riley—anything but the man she'd left back in her apartment.

*** *** ***

"I had a really nice time tonight."

Buffy smiled at Riley, even though he'd just said what was probably the most overused end of a date line ever. It was like the mild, virginal twin of "Would you like to come in for coffee?" She hated this point of a date, when the night was technically over, but neither person was quite sure how to officially end it. And then there was that whole to kiss or not to kiss mental tug-of-war… "Me, too," she said.

"So, you think maybe we could do it again some time?"

"Sure," Buffy agreed. After all, it wasn't like it had been a bad night. Riley was a nice guy, exactly the type she needed to be with. "You have my number. Call me."

Riley gave her his boyish grin. "Great!" He hesitated for a moment, and Buffy braced herself for what was coming. When he leaned towards her, she didn't move, only waiting for his lips to touch hers. When they did, it was a quick kiss, over before Buffy had a chance to blink.

"So I'll call you?" Riley verified.

He looked pleased with himself, Buffy thought. She couldn't help but feel a little bitchy and wonder why. "Yeah."

"Well, um, have a good night then, Buffy."

"You, too, Riley."

She waited until Riley had walked down the hall and disappeared into the stairwell before fishing her keys out from her purse. There was a moment of dread as Buffy thought of what could happen once she walked into the apartment and saw Spike. Maybe she'd be lucky, and he wouldn't be home. She took a deep breath, turning the key in the lock.

Buffy opened the door, freezing when she saw Spike wasn't alone. Harmony was in his lap, tracing the curve of his neck with her tongue. Buffy threw her purse and keys down on the table, telling herself quickly that what she was feeling was anger at Spike for bringing Harmony here when he'd said he wouldn't and not jealousy at seeing him with another woman. "You. Out of my apartment."

Harmony turned, startled, but Spike just looked smug. "What, you're the only one who gets any tonight? Or wait…maybe that's the problem. Not even a bit of a snog from Cap'n Cardboard, and now you're feeling all frustrated?"

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy snapped.

Harmony glared over at Buffy. "Look, I don't know what your deal is, but my blondie bear and I…"

"Get out of my apartment before I throw you out." Buffy's tone was bordering on a growl.

Harmony's eyes bulged, and she jumped off Spike's lap. "Okay. Well, um, see you later, Spikey." Harmony dashed out of the apartment, not daring to look at Buffy as she did.

Buffy slammed the door behind Harmony, then locked it angrily. She spun around, her eyes narrowing at Spike. "I told you not to bring her here again."

Spike remained seated on the couch, his legs spread comfortably and his hands resting behind his head. "Didn't really think you'd be back tonight. What, dinner wasn't nice enough for you to let him take a poke?"

Buffy gasped. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Yeah, well, it's all part of my lack of charm. Don't see why you even care what I think or say, seeing as I'm not good enough for your precious self anyway."

"What? Don't you try to turn this around on me, Spike. You're the one who had that skank back in my apartment."

"You're one judgmental little bint, you know that?" Spike said, his cool demeanor starting to crack. "You don't know her. For all you know, she could be the very pinnacle of virtue."

"Oh yeah, and I'm sure that's why she's with you."

Spike was off the couch as soon as the words were out of Buffy's mouth. He stalked towards her, backing her against the door and pinning her there between his outstretched arms. Buffy trembled, her eyes wide and her breath quickening. "That what you think of me? That I'm beneath you? Oh, I'm fine when you just want to use me, when all I am to you is someone who can make your pain go away for a little while. But if you're ever going to go out in public, well, it better be with someone nice and clean cut. Bloke like me is just an embarrassment."

Buffy pushed against his chest. "Get away from me. You smell like a damn brewery."

Spike didn't budge. "I know you feel this thing between us, Buffy. This heat…desire. You want me. Just let yourself…" He leaned in, his mouth dangerously close to hers.

Buffy pushed him away, harder this time, and he stumbled backwards. "There is nothing between us," she snapped, her body shaking. "God, look at yourself. You have no real job and you can't seem to go even a full twenty-four hours without getting drunk out of your mind. What could you possibly offer me?"

Spike leered at her, caressing his teeth with his tongue, though Buffy could see the anger still in his eyes. "I think you know exactly what I could offer you, kitten."

Buffy gave him her best look of disgust. "That's something I'll never want from you."

"What, you think Riley is going to give you what you need? Didn't seem quite man enough to me."

"Shows how much you know," Buffy said with a smug smile. She didn't like the way he was talking to her, what he was insinuating. She wanted that smug look off of his face. "Riley gives me exactly what I need. He's more of a man than you could ever dream of being."

Spike had her against the door again within seconds, this time with his hard body pressed into her, showing her exactly how much of a man he was. His mouth swallowed her cry of surprise as he gave her a punishing kiss. All semblance of rational thought seemed to fly out the window for her. This kiss was so unlike the mere peck that Riley had given her only a short time before, and Buffy felt dizzy. His touch was electric, and it sent fire through her veins.

But it was wrong. Her voice of reason popped back to the forefront of her mind, reminding her of all the reasons why she couldn't do this. Spike wasn't safe. If she gave in to him now, it would only lead to badness later on. She pushed him away again, this time moving quickly so she was away from the door. "No, Spike. I don't want you. I'll never want you." She saw him move towards her again, and she grabbed on to something he'd said earlier, desperate to do anything to keep him from pushing her where she knew she couldn't go. "You're beneath me."

Spike's face hardened. "Fine. Tell yourself whatever you want, you bloody little bitch. Just think about that when no one's there to hold you while you cry over your dead lover."

Buffy paled. "How did you…"

"I'm not as dumb as you think I am, Buffy. I see you, hear you, and I've put enough of the pieces together to figure out what this is all about."

"You know nothing about me, Spike," Buffy snarled. "Nothing." She went into her bedroom, relieved when Spike didn't follow her.

*** *** ***

Willow propped her elbows up on the lunch table, resting her chin on top of her fists. "So, how did the date with Riley go?"

Buffy swirled her straw around in her drink. "It was nice…"

"Nice? I need more than nice. Give me a full description here. Er, unless things got all groiny, in which case a blurry watercolor will suffice."

"There was no groininess," Buffy said with a small smirk. "Just a kiss at the end of the night."

"Ooh! A kiss! Did it make you all tingly?"

"It was…nice."

"There's that 'nice' again. Come on, satisfy the curiosity of the nosy best friend."

"Fine. We went to dinner at Café Centosette on Second Avenue, and…"

"Ooh, Italian. Tara and I go there for brunch sometimes. They have really good…" Willow trailed off. "Oh, I asked about your date with Riley, and now I'm rambling…"

Buffy chuckled. "Rambling's fine. And it was a good meal. Good food. Good conversation. It was…good."

"So it was nice and good?"

"Yep. Nice and good."

"With a kiss at the end of the night."

"Uh huh."

"So will there be more 'nice and good' dates for Buffy and Riley?"

"I think so. He asked if he could see me again, and I told him he could call me."

Willow gave a small, excited squeal. "I'm so happy for you, Buffy! I was worried when you seemed so unwilling to date again after Parker, but here you are, getting back on that dating horse. And Riley's a great guy. I think you'll be really happy together."

"He's terrific," Buffy replied, hopefully with more enthusiasm than she was currently feeling.

Willow smiled brightly, and Buffy tried very hard to let the other woman's good mood be addictive. After all, Riley was terrific, and Spike's behavior the previous night had more than reinforced her belief that she had made the wise choice. Buffy smiled, too. She was doing the right thing.

*** *** ***

Spike was sitting at the kitchen table when Buffy came home that afternoon. "Can we talk?" he asked as soon as she was inside.

"I really don't want to talk to you, Spike."

"I figured as much. I just…"

Buffy leaned against the counter. "Make it quick. I have to be at work in an hour."

Spike took a deep breath. "Right. Look, I'm really sorry about what happened last night."

"Skip it. I don't want to hear anything you have to say about that. You were drunk, and you acted like an ass. End of story."

"Fine. We'll leave it at that then."

"Is that all you had to say?"

"No. I wanted you to know that I'm going to find another place to live. I can't promise anything over night, but I'll be out of here as soon as I can."

Buffy felt all the strength knocked from both her righteous anger and her legs. Spike was leaving? He wasn't supposed to leave. He was supposed to stay there with her, and… No… This was good, she told herself. Spike being out of her life would make everything easier. "Happy apartment hunting, then. I'm going to get ready for work."

A quick flash of pain hit his features before they hardened again. "I'll be out of your hair soon, Buffy."

"Glad to hear it." Buffy walked into her room, shutting the door behind her. She started to go to her closet and get her uniform for work, when she felt her legs begin to tremble. She leaned against the door for support, tears forming in her eyes. She hadn't considered the possibility that Spike would actually leave like this.

But it was a good thing. She had to keep telling herself that. It would be better for her, and she'd be safer this way. Yes, this would be better.

So why didn't it feel that way?

*** *** ***
 

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