Chapter Eight


Spike found himself whistling as he got ready for work the next morning. He smiled to himself as he remembered her laughter and smiles, their banter and how she felt in his arms. He wanted her back in his arms again, and soon. That was it, as soon as he got to work that day, he was giving her a hug. He'd start each day with her with a hug. It would make her feel good, it would make him feel good and all would be well with the world.
At least he hoped.

"Good morning, my lioness!" he burst out as he flung the doors open. Silence. No sign of her.

"Buffy?"

"Getting coffee!" she called out from the back.

He grinned and made a beeline for the back. He found her with her back to
him, making her cup of java.

"How do you feel sweetheart?" he asked, coming up beside her.

She looked up at him strangely and then took a step back. He frowned at
that and immediately stepped closer again. What was with the skittishness?

"Spike. Personal space. You're invading mine," she told him and grabbed
her cup of coffee. She walked around him headed towards the desk.

"Buffy," he said following her. "Are you all right, pet?"

She grabbed some papers off the desk, holding them up. "I took the liberty
of pulling some files this morning on potential matches. I figured maybe we
could go over them together."

He blinked. "You're going to let me help choose?"

"If I don't, are you going to stop hounding me to let you do it?"

"No."

"There you go then. Besides, Willow took such a shine to you; I figure she
wants you to be part of this."

"So it's not ALL about satisfying the customer then."

She met his eyes. "That's all it's about."

"What about you Buffy?" he asked, walking slowly up to her.

She knit her eyebrows. "What about me what?"

"Are you satisfied?" he asked deeply, reaching out and gliding his hand
down her arm. He wasn't amazed to find her skin silky smooth.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, regarding him almost cautiously.

He smiled softly, "Doing my new favorite thing."

"What's that?" she asked, a slight tremble to her voice.

"Touching you," he answered on a whisper, taking the chance that she
wouldn't bolt and he'd finally be able to take her in his arms. He liked
Business Buffy, but he wanted Fun Buffy from the night before.

He wasn't going to get his wish. She took two full steps back. "That's
enough William. Last night was fun, but . . . " she trailed off and shook her
head, starting for her office.

"But what?" he asked, following her.

"But it's over."

He swore his heart stopped beating. "What do you mean?"

"I mean—what is it you're trying to do here? Are you trying to seduce
me?"

"I'm only doing what feels good," he said disoriented, he hadn't put much
thought into what he was doing and why, just knew he what he wanted to
be doing and decided to go about doing it. Now she was making him think
about it?

"That's not an answer William. Not one an adult gives anyway. That's the
answer of a three year old. Listen, we're colleagues and we're kind of
friends—"

"Kind of? Last night—"

"I had too much to drink."

"Bollocks!"

"What does that even mean?"

"It means you're lying to me and you know it!" he shouted at her.

"Can you stop yelling at me?"

"I don't know. Can you stop being such a bitch?"

She put her hand to her face and it wasn't until later that it dawned on
Spike that his words had at first hurt her. His words like a slap to the face.
In the moment though, all he saw was her glare and the venom in her eyes
before she spun on heel and stalked to her office, slamming the door so
hard the walls shook.



Buffy sat down at her desk, willing the tears that were forming away. She
was NOT going to cry. She buried her face in her hands. Why did she do
that? Why did she push him away like that? She'd had a lot of fun the night
before and he was so damn sweet to her. So why was she pulling away?

He scared her.

She liked the feelings he invoked in her, enjoyed the sweet words and his
touch and his blue eyes that seemed to see right to the heart of her. It'd
been her experience though that those things never lasted. It all started
out that way, but then it soon gave way to taking her for granted, to never
getting a job, to telling her that she wasn't enough and then walking out on
her once some other sap came sniffing around—Stop Buffy. Breathe. In.
Out. Okay, good. She was doomed and she had to face facts. She was meant
to be alone. The universe was out to get her on the relationship front and
she had to just accept it. No matter how hard it was. Right now Spike was
perfect—okay that was probably too strong a word, he was horrible with
boundaries and indescribably pushy and didn't know when to just stop
already –but other than those things, he was sweet and kind and
encouraging and helpful and had this naturally curiosity about things that
was refreshing—BUT. He had to have a fatal flaw that would lead to nothing
but heartbreak. They all did. What was the point in chancing it and ruining everything by getting involved, by—shudder—falling for him? Best to just keep him at arms length and not ruin everything.

Remembering his blue eyes and the smile he'd given her that morning and
his touch down her arm . . . she knew this was going to be difficult.


 

Chapter Nine

"Bloody frustrating," Spike muttered to himself as he glanced at the shut door of Buffy Summers for the hundredth time in an hour. "Can't just let me in, can't let me help – all I want to do is help . . . "

"Are you sure that's ALL you want to do?"

Spike jumped a near mile and his eyes darted up to find his uncle standing
before him in all his God-like glory.

"Uncle, what are you doing? She could come out here at any time—anyone
could walk in here and see you—" Spike exclaimed, bolting up from his seat.

Eros laughed, a deep hearty laugh. "No one will see me, trust me. Time's
stopped for a spell."

"Has it now?" Spike asked wryly.

"You're tense," Eros frowned.

"You would be too if you had to deal with," he gestured toward the shut
door, "HER."

Eros cocked his head to the side. "Is the task too hard? Shall I send
someone else?"

"No!" Spike burst out quickly, "No. I don't want –that is, I don't think
anyone else could handle her."

"Is that what you're doing? Handling her?"

Spike scratched the back of his head. "She's a difficult one, Uncle. I'm
trying my best here."

"What have you learned thus far?"

"She's been hurt badly. That much is bloody clear. She's so shut off. Well, it's like this really, she'll open the window just a crack and just when you're
about to climb in, she slams it shut."

"Have you learned the reasons why?"

"She claims she has tragic taste in men. Plus, Uncle. . . she doesn't believe
in love."

Eros' eyes widened. "What?!"

"For herself," Spike quickly amended. "She thinks she's meant to be alone
for the rest of her life."

"What do you think?"

Spike looked at his uncle in surprise. "What? You're the one that always
taught me there's a lid for every pot. That everyone has someone for
them."

"And that is all very true, my boy. However, you know, and you've seen
that sometimes there are those that never marry and settle. In some cases,
there are those that are perfectly content with the family and friends they

have around them and do not wish for anyone else. Sometimes that's all one
needs to complete their life."

"I don't see that for Buffy," Spike said tightly.

"Don't see it or don't want it?"

Spike met his uncle's eyes. "Don't want it. Not for her. Someone who has
put so much into getting people together should not spend the rest of her
life alone."

Eros nodded, he was grinning in a secretive way. "The best way to help
Buffy is to believe in love, Spike. Do you believe in love?"

Spike nodded and his eyes traveled to the shut door. "Yes, Uncle. I believe
in love." He sighed heavily. "I just don't know if believing in it is enough for
her. How do I get her to believe in it too?" He turned back to his uncle only
to find him gone. Spike shook his head, sighing heavily. He plopped back
down in his chair and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "Exactly what
was the point in that visit?" he asked the air.



"This one," Spike said, pointing at a picture of a guy named Xander Harris.

"Really? I chose this one," Buffy said, pointing to a picture of one named
Oz.

Spike grabbed the profile of Oz and skimmed it. "I don't know. I think
Xander and Willow could share some laughter."

"Yes, but I think Oz would allow her to shine. Remember how you said she
needed that?"

"You agreed with me?" Spike asked, surprised. She never really did cease
to amaze him in the short time he'd known her. He thought he was doomed
to spend the day with her behind closed doors, shutting him out completely.
Instead, she'd come out after his uncle had left with a stack of papers. She'd
printed out a list for each of them to look over and choose. She appeared
calmer and he was trying his best not to do anything to piss her off or send
her back in her office.

Buffy smiled, "Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," he grinned.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "So, you think Xander huh?"

"He seems like a good guy. Well, from what I read on his profile anyway.
And look at that smile. He seems kind of. . . goofy. Willow tends to take
herself seriously, didn't you think?"

"True, but Oz is a laid back kind of guy. Very intelligent too."

"You don't think Xander is?"

"Well, no I didn't say that. He is intelligent, but I'm not sure if he's Willow
intelligent."

"Seems we're at an impasse luv. What do we do from here?" Spike asked,
smiling. He was enjoying this debate/discussion with Buffy. It was the first
time they'd debated on something and not had it result in arguing and her
slamming doors and walking away from him. She wasn't taking anything
personally, she wasn't defensive, she was all business Buffy but softer. Dare
he say, friendly even?

"Well, since I am at a place where I feel my judgment is not what it used to
be—" she began.

"Buffy, you still have it," Spike told her gently, placing a hand over hers.
She slipped it away from him. He tried not to react to that blatant gesture
of denying his comfort. Instead, he placed his hand back on his lap where he
would be sure not to reach for her hand again.

"I want to do right by Willow. She's such a sweet girl and I want to do what
I can to help her."

"You have a big heart," Spike said softly, staring at his lap.

"So, I'm willing to send her on two dates with both of them."

Spike's head shot up. "Really?"

Buffy nodded slowly, "Really. Despite whatever our differences are on a
personal level, I can't deny that there is something to our professional
compatibility. I am willing to do what I can to keep this place afloat. For
that, I can bend."

Spike narrowed his eyes. "So, I'm just a piece to help you keep this place
then? Is that it?"

"If things go well, you may end up having it."

His jaw dropped. "What?"

She shrugged. "Just a thought."

"Well, I don't like you talking that way! You're not giving this place up
Buffy. I do think you're in desperate need of a vacation, but this place is all
you."

"It was once, but not anymore. Look at me. I'm washed up."

"You're only twenty-eight. You're not washed up. You just lost your faith
in love."

Buffy sighed, "Let's not go there again."

Spike held up his hand. "I won't start. Don't send Willow out with Xander.
Send her out with Oz. Prove me wrong."

Buffy shook her head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't have it in me to be wrong again."

"Buffy—"

"Just leave it alone Spike. I'm sending her out with both of them."

"And if she ends up with Xander?" Spike asked with trepidation. Never
had he wanted to be so wrong about something in his life.

"I don't know. I just don't know," Buffy murmured. "Why don't you call
Willow? I'm going to get some lunch. Want anything?"

Spike shook his head. "No," he said almost mournfully.

"Don't tell me you're worried now," Buffy said, standing up.

"I am. I don't want to be right. I don't want you to give this up."

"What's a girl to do when she's lost her touch but to move on?"

"A girl can find her touch again," Spike told her.

"I just have to accept it."

"You're not a quitter, Buffy. I won't let you quit."

"You can't stop me," she told him, the hard edge in her voice coming back.

Spike wanted to retort with ‘I can and I will', but he didn't. That'd send her
packing. Instead he stared at her, trying to find the truth in her eyes. All he
saw was pain mingled with some resignation and a tiny bit of fire. He
wanted all that fire back in her eyes. If she had the fire back, she'd be
unstoppable. A plan was starting to form in his mind. He was going to get
that fire back in her eyes.


 

Chapter 10:

“Uncle, I need some help. Just a small favor really,” Spike called out through the apartment. He’d decided to make the trek home for lunch, and wished he had his wings to make the trip quicker than it was. “I know you don’t want to be popping in much... well, I don’t want you popping in at all because I can handle this...but I just need one—“

“What do you need my boy?” And suddenly Eros was there .

“I know we just talked this morning and I said I didn’t need help—“

“But you do,” Eros stated with a tiny smile.

“I do,” Spike nodded. “I really hate to ask this, but I don’t think there’s any other way because she’s so damn stubborn and I’m determined to help her.”

“Do you care for her?”

Spike blinked, “Well, yeah. I can’t exactly do my job if I don’t care, can I?”

Eros smiled, “Of course. So, what is this ‘small favor’?”

“I need you to just kind of control Buffy for me.”

Eros frowned, “How so?”

“I want to take her away for a few days. Part of the problem is that the poor girl is overworked. And I know she’d never agree to it, especially not with me. . . “ he paused, “not with the way we argue anyway,” he muttered. Standing tall, he faced Eros. “So I just need you to work your mojo. I ask; you make it so she says yes. Please?” he ended on a plea.

Eros regarded him silently, expressionless. Finally he nodded his consent. “Ask and she’ll say yes. Don’t make this a habit, Spike.” Then, he was gone.

“Thanks! And I won’t!” Spike yelled to him. “You could have stuck around to give me a lift back to work,” he muttered.



When Spike returned back to work, he found Buffy staring off into space, her uneaten pasta salad in front of her. He sat down across from her at the reception desk and she jumped a little, finally recognizing that he was there.

“Off in another world, my lioness?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I guess I was. You want this?” she asked, gesturing to the pasta salad.

“Nope. I think you should eat it.”

She shrugged, “I don’t ...” she trailed off and shook her head.

“Nope, you need to eat. You’re all skin and bones Buffy. You can’t expect to think clearly when your body is hungry.”

“Spike” she sighed wearily.

Stabbing the food with the fork in the dish, he held it up to her mouth. “Eat. I’ll feed you.”

She blinked. “You’ll what?”

“Feed you.”

“Is this all part of the wanting to take care of me bit?”

He nodded, smiling. “I’ll help you take care of yourself. Please? Consider a perk you don’t have to pay me for.”

“Well, I should hope I wouldn’t have to pay you for feeding me.”

“Stop yammering pet, and open up.”

Buffy did so, hesitantly and Spike didn’t waste a minute shoving the food in her mouth. As soon as she swallowed she opened her mouth for more.
Spike grinned, “Not hungry ay kitten?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, “Come on. Feed me.”

He obliged her, taking great joy in being able to feed her and look after her. His mind was abuzz of all the different things he wanted to feed her. Strawberries . . . with cream on them. He wanted to watch that little pink tongue worm it way out of the cavern of her mouth and lick the cream straight off . . . Oh Zeus. He was hard. Thankfully, she was just about done because if she opened her mouth one more time, he might not be responsible for what he shoved in there.

“Mmm...” she said closing her eyes contentedly. “So this is what it feels like to be full. I want to sleep now,” she giggled.

Spike’s eyes widened. “You giggled,” he said almost breathlessly, stunned how such an adorable noise could go straight to his cock and make it even harder. He could pound nails with it right now.

“I did. Must be the food. Or delirium.” She rolled her eyes. “I have been known to laugh once in a while, ya know.”

Spike smiled, “Not just a laugh Buffy. A giggle. A very cute giggle.”

She smirked, “Play your cards right and it could happen again.”

“I want to make that happen a lot,” Spike said wistfully. He took a deep breath, “Buffy, I want to take you away for a few days on a vacation. Will you come with me?”

“Yes,” was the quick reply.

Thank you, Uncle Eros.

 

Chapter 11:

"I can't believe I'm going on vacation," Buffy stated for the tenth time in an hour. She looked over at Spike's amused and yet somewhat uncomfortable face. "With you," she finished.

"Oi! Not very nice, kitten. You're going to have a fantastic time with me.
Much needed rest and . . . all that stuff."

"Where are we going?" Buffy asked, as she pulled out a sheet of paper and
wrote: ‘Things to Pack' at the top.

Spike fidgeted. Good Goddess, why did he never think things out? Let's go
on vacation Buffy. Uncle, make her say yes...Where the bleeding hell were
they going to go? He understood now what his mother meant when she
called him impulsive. Impetuous. It was the whole reason why, his mother
claimed, he'd rammed straight into Mt. Olympus' pillars when he was
learning how to fly still. Apparently, he'd wanted to show he didn't need any
help and that he could do it all on his own. He took off in the middle of his
mother's explanation about flight control and wham! His left wing had been
sore for a week. He rubbed his left arm as Buffy looked up at him
expectantly.

"Uh, it's a surprise," he finally answered.

"You mean you don't know," she said, placing her pen down.

"I mean it's surprise," he said huffily. "Can you just trust me?"

She started to laugh. That didn't bode well. He glared at her and she
stopped. Then started again. "In case you hadn't noticed, I don't trust
easily. At least not anymore."

Spike cocked his head to the side. "What happened?"

She shrugged, "Life. So, if this is a sur—"

"Like what happened?" Spike asked and sat down across from her.

She blinked at him. "Huh?"

"What happened to make you not trust," he urged.

"Just let it go Spike."

"You'll go on vacation with but won't tell me why you don't trust anyone?"
Even if it wasn't you that actually agreed, he thought. So much guilt for
that.

"It's not that I won't trust anyone, I just have a hard time doing so."

"Tell me why."

"I've known a lot of liars, okay?"

"Were these liars ex boyfriends?"

She sighed heavily, leveled him with her eyes. "Yes."

"Did you love them?

"What a ridiculous question," she waved her hand at him, as if dismissing
him.

"Not really. You could have been in lust with them. You could have just
cared for them. You didn't have to be in love with them."

She studied him for a long time. "Well, I was," she said finally, quietly.


"What did they lie about?"

"One lied about being married. Another about getting a job. One told me he
never loved me at all."

"Do you believe he did?"

"Sometimes I thought he did."

"Only sometimes?"

"You can feel it ya know? You can tell when someone is really with you and
only half with you."

"Why was he with you if he--? I'm sorry Buffy." "What are you sorry for?
You asked." The hardness in her tone made him wince.

He reached across the desk and took her hands in his. She looked up at him
surprised. "Because I hate to think of you in pain," he told her. "And I don't
understand how someone, anyone, could not love you."

Her eyes widened at that and he swore he saw tears before she yanked her
hands away and stood.

"Don't," she said coldly, pointing at him.

"Don't what?"

"Lie to me."

Now his eyes grew large and he stood to face her. "I would never lie to you
Buffy. I told you I never would and I never have." Except that I'm
immortal and my Uncle is Eros, the God of Love, and I have wings and I
had my uncle work magick on you so you'd go away with me. Other than
that, I wouldn't lie to you, Spike thought sarcastically in his mind, wanting
to kick himself for his duplicity.

"You just don't want me to leave here," she told him and stalked off.

He went after her, grabbing her arm and making her face him. He was
pissed. Pissed at himself for the deceptions that kept growing, pissed for
feeling guilty even though he knew she would never have agreed to go
away without some outside assistance, pissed that he cared more than he
should have, pissed that she invoked feelings in him that he knew he wasn't
supposed to be feeling for any mortal and least of all the one he'd been sent
on a mission to help. He was also pissed that he'd been denied his hug that
morning!

"Now you listen to me Buffy Summers," he demanded, his voice shaking with anger. "I do not lie to you. I never have and I never will. I care about you dammit. I care about you and this place most of all. I'd rather see you happy and see this place burn if that's what it took to put a smile back on your beautiful face. I'm tired of you running away from me and thinking I have some other motive under my sleeve. I don't. It's for YOU that I put up with your attitude; it's for YOU that I care. I want to help YOU. I'm not like them Buffy so don't lump me in there with them. Maybe they had motives and ulterior motives, but I don't. When I say I want to take care of you, I mean it. When I say that. . . " he softened and wrapped his arms around her, "that my new favorite thing is to hold you, I mean it. I do. I really, really do." He brushed his fingers through her hair and froze when he felt her body rock with a sob. No, this was a good thing. It needed to be done and she needed to know that she could let that side of her show with him and he'd accept it, he'd take all of her just as she was. No brave fronts were needed.

It only made him care for her more.

"You need to be held like this," he whispered soothingly. "You need to know that you're not alone. At least not while I'm here." And please, don't take me from her now or . . . possibly ever. "Let me take care of you Buffy. Let me show you that I want to be here because of you and no other reason. Let me hold you and cook for you and make you laugh. Will you let me do that?"

"I'm scared," she whimpered through her tears against his chest.

"So am I, my lioness."

"Of what? You're never afraid.""I'm afraid you won't let me in. I'm afraid you'll give up on everything. There is so much life in you, Buffy. You just don't see it. I want you to see it."

She didn't answer and instead buried herself deeper in his embrace and he nestled his head against hers, whispering nonsensical words of comfort.
It was funny how all felt right with the world just by holding Buffy Summers in his arms.

 

Chapter 12:

Chapter 12

Their relationship shifted after he'd laid down the law and she'd cried in his arms. She seemed more at ease, more open and ready to listen to what he had to say—and really listening, not just waiting until he was done so she could rush to disagree. Of course, the day was young, but Spike was going to enjoy it while he could. He'd even asked Buffy if he could sit an interview out so he could retire to her office and make plans for their trip. The fact that she'd agreed, nearly knocked him to the ground. He just prayed that his uncle didn't have a hand in her sudden easy going manner and that he was experiencing the kinder side of Buffy. The side he knew she had in her, but was too afraid to let show.

And, as soon as he'd entered her office a manila envelope appeared on her desk. Now that, he knew was Uncle Eros and he wasn't amused.

"Uncle," he hissed, "What if it'd been her that walked in? And I told you
not to eavesdrop!"

"Well, I knew it wasn't her and I'm not eavesdropping, per se," Eros said
and appeared, reclining in Buffy's armchair. He frowned, "Vinyl is not so
friendly on wings and a bare—"

"Uncle!"

Eros grinned. He pointed to the manila envelope on the desk. "Inside you'll
find two tickets to the most romantic vacation spot on Earth, some money,
Traveler's checks, a debit card, a credit card, a license, a passport and
checks. I've taken the liberty of arranging a few necessary things that were
seemingly overlooked upon your quick departure."

"You mean the departure in which I was literally knocked on my ass?"

"Such language, Spike. Seems to be you've been knocked on your ‘ass'
since arriving too."

Spike furrowed his brow, "What do you mean?"

Eros chuckled. "Open the manila envelope."

Eyeing his uncle, Spike opened the manila envelope, but before looking at
the tickets, he had to know the truth. "Uncle, she's not being nicer to me
because you worked some mojo on her is she?"

Eros nodded and stood. He patted Spike on the back. "Doubting your
abilities?"

Spike nodded, "Maybe a little."

"Perhaps being firm with her was what was needed. She needed to know
the truth and depth of your emotions. She saw it, rest assured."

"She really did?"

"I thought you felt confident in this task, Spike," Eros frowned.

"I—I do. I just. . . I feel guilty."

Eros shrugged, "A minor bump in the road."

"Minor bump? If she ever found out what I had you do—"

"You plan to tell her? You know you can't do that," Eros said sternly.

"I know," Spike said softly.

"Now take a look at those tickets," Eros grinned.

Taking them out, Spike gasped. Two tickets for a week to Paris, France. He
shook his head immediately.

"Why ‘no'?" Eros demanded, put off that that wasn't a good choice.

"Because it's too much. She'd love it, but she'd . . . wonder. I mean, Paris?
She's already suspicious of me and the more I can't answer . . . Can you
make to Kauai?"

"As in one of the Hawaiian Islands?"

"Yes, please."

Eros shrugged. "Very well."

"I know you mean well, Uncle, but you think like . . . well, you."

"I think like someone that's observed the hot spots for lovers, I
understand," Eros nodded. "And this is not a trip for lovers, is it? It's just a
trip for Buffy to get some relaxation and gain some peace of mind, correct?"

Spike nodded mutely, his eyes downcast.

"For it can't be anything more than that, right Spike?"

Still looking down, Spike nodded and missed the gentle smile on Eros' face.

His uncle patted his back, "I think you'll do fine. Kauai it is. Very peaceful
and relaxing."

"That's what I thought. Angel told me he was there once and . . . I just
thought the way he described the exoticness and the slow pace of the
island, she'd enjoy that."

"She will."

"But no mojo right?"

"No mojo. And, unless you really need me, no eavesdropping."

"Thank you, Uncle."

"I believe Miss Summers is done now. Why don't you tell her the good
news? You've got your destination."

In a flash, he was gone and Spike stood holding the manila envelope in his
hands. Buffy knocked on the door, "Spike? Can I come in?"

He smiled, "Yes, my lioness." And he shoved the tickets in the manila
envelope and wrapped his arms around it.

The door opened, "Everything okay?" she asked, bringing in the latest
files.

"Yep. I uh, have our destination."

"Oh? Are you currently hugging that information to your chest?"

Spike nodded. "It's a surprise, but we're leaving at the end of the week."

Her eyes widened. "The end of the week? This week?"

He nodded. "Problem?"

"Means I have to get a few things in order, like our latest client and Willow,
Xander and Oz –"

"It'll be all right sweetling. I'll help you. Give me Xander's number and I'll
call him. You call Oz and we'll call Willow together. Sound good?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Then you can brief me on the latest and we'll come up with a plan for her
before we leave."

She shook her head in wonder.

"What?" he asked, fearing he'd done something wrong.

"Just thinking that maybe we do make a good team," she said softly.

Spike smiled broadly, "Yes, we do." And he left it at that. He didn't gloat or
go on about it. Doing that would send her into a hissy and make her take it
back. He didn't want her to do that. Just that additional step towards
accepting him and opening herself up was all he needed. Hopefully, by the
end of their week, she'd be putty in his hands. He frowned at that train of
thought. Then what? He got her back on board with her business and she
found herself at peace once again, then what? He left? Did he have to play
matchmaker for—Oh Great Merciful Zeus, NO! He wouldn't do it, he would
not set her up with someone—what the bleeding hell had he just gotten
himself into? Did he miss something in the directions his uncle had given
him? Was he SUPPOSED to do that?

"Spike?" Buffy asked, gently putting her hand on his head. "Are you all
right? You're looking a little ill."

He gazed down at her, at her concerned green eyes, her cute upturned
nose and rosy cheeks. Some bloke would be very lucky to have a girl like
her. All the fire and passion she possessed . . . they'd be lucky indeed to end
up with such a lioness. HIS Lioness, mind you.

He nodded, "I think I'm just hungry."

"Well, you're always yelling at me to eat, why don't you take your own
advice and then we'll get to work on these."

Unable to stop himself, he brought her in his arms and held her tight.

"Spike?" she asked, uncertain.

"It's okay, I'm just excited to be going away. We're going to have a lot of
fun you and me, yeah?"

"Oh I have no doubt for your capacity to show me a good time, Spike.
You're certainly fully of surprises. But right now the envelope you've been
hugging is digging into my chest."

He released her immediately, "Sorry, luv."

"It's okay. Go get something to eat, all right?"

He nodded, taking his envelope with him and made his way outside. He
took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. He was very certain that he
was falling in love with Buffy Summers. In fact, he was fairly certain that he
was already there.



 

Chapter 13:

Chapter 13

Buffy wondered when it would be a good time to tell Spike she was deathly afraid of flying. When he'd invited her to go on vacation with him, she'd thought he meant a weekend away at some resort or something. Not a full week in an Hawaiian Island—and what she knew of Kauai, the most romantic of the islands. She darted a glance at him as he leaned back in his seat in the cab. Was he thinking romance? And why was she pondering if he was pondering it if she wasn't pondering the idea herself. It was confusing and complicated and she was trying not to dwell on her body's reaction to his close proximity. Or the fact that her heart had started doing this racing thing when he was around. Nope, they were friends, that was it. Just friends. So why was he smiling at her now so tenderly? Was she just reading into things?

"What?" she asked, wincing at the snapping quality to her question.

He frowned slightly at that. "Excited?"

She bit her lip and looked out the window. "Yeah huh."

He put his hand under her chin and made her look at him. "What is it?
Willow? She was really excited about having two dates and I think Robin
was a good choice for that Faith bird—"

"No, it's not that," she shook her head, dislodging his hand.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm petrified of flying," she whispered, looking down.

He started to laugh.

She glared at him. "Okay, it's not funny!"

"Oh, it is pet if you knew—Buffy, it's all right kitten. You don't have a thing
to worry about."

She furrowed her brow, "How do you know?"

"Let's just say I have it on good authority."

"I knew it! You're one of those bible thumping freaks aren't you? Let me
guess, you had a chat with God this morning after he appeared in your
toast."

That made him laugh harder. "No kitten, I don't even eat toast."

"Spike—"

"Ssshhh." He pulled her back against him. "There's nothing for you to
worry about. You'll be fine. Flying isn't that much of a big deal. It's fun! Can
you imagine what it would be like if you had wings?"

"Like bird?" She wrinkled her nose. "I'd much rather be like Superman or
Supergirl and not have wings."

"What's wrong with fluffy, white wings? Sure they can sometimes make
you sneeze but they're pretty compact as long as you know when to extend
and when to—"

"Do you know from experience what it's like to have wings?" she asked,
amused. She looked up at him, his blue eyes sparkling with determination.
He looked down at her and his gaze softened. He smiled.

"I'm just wagering I'd rather have wings," he said. "Superman wore
tights."

Buffy giggled, "Would you rather be a cherub like the God of Love? He has
a toga or sometimes even a giant white diaper—"

"Pet, bite your tongue," Spike said firmly. "Eros is not cherub like. That'd
insinuate he was a child and he most certainly is not. Those Romans have
him that way. And he might wear a toga, but it fits him, he—"

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. "There is certainly more to you than meets the
eye. Why are you giving me a dissertation on Eros versus Cupid and getting
quite defensive about it?"

"I uh, studied a lot of Greek, what do you call it? Mythology. You could call
me an expert on the subject."

"And you feel quite passionate about it, I see."

"Well, yes. Kind of like how you feel passionate about work."

Buffy sighed, "Do I? I hadn't noticed."

"You do," Spike said quietly. "I can see it and feel it even if you don't."

"Can we not talk about work?"

"Good idea. Instead, let's talk about all the decadent things we'll do this
week."

She smiled. Decadent. She liked the sound of that.



He supposed it was horribly wrong of him to take such pleasure in her fear
of flying, but how could he help it? For one thing, since he flew and was
somewhat familiar with aviation as Mercury planted that seed in humans—
he felt pretty secure in their flight. Not to mention that if something were
to happen, he knew his uncle would be right there to lend a hand. In fact,
he was pretty sure this particular flight was being looked after. So her fear
was laughable, but he was trying to keep that under wraps. Sort of.
However, his most favorite part of Buffy's fear was the fact that she was
now allowing him to wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly against
him. He was free to hold her, caress her, comfort her and bury his nose in
her fragrant hair and nuzzle her fragrant skin.

Unfortunately, he was also afraid he wouldn't have a hand left after this for
she was crushing it with the mighty grip she had.

"Luv?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't fancy having a crushed hand."

"Oh. Sorry," and she released his hand.

He grabbed it again. "Now I didn't say you had to let me go. Just ease up
on the sumo grip."

She giggled and it was music to his ears. He smiled and tweeked her nose.
"Do you have the Dramamine, pet?"

"I do."

"Did you take one?"

"Yep, a half hour before we boarded."

"Kicking in yet?"

"I'm starting to feel a little numb," and as if on cue, she yawned.

"We're getting ready soon, pet. The stewardesses are coming out to do
their song and dance."

She giggled again and leaned into him, rubbing her nose against his.
"You're so cute."

His heart warmed, but he had to keep himself in check. She was under the
influence. "Pet, do you take pills on occasion for headaches and such?"

She shrugged. "Not all the time. Why?"

"No reason. Why don't you rest now hmmm? Just lean back in my arms,
that's right. Mind if I pet you?"

"Like you would your lioness?" she yawned.

"You're my lioness and I want to pet my kitty. May I?"

She nodded, "Please."

She nestled herself in his arms, resting her head on his chest and he
stroked his fingers through her hair. In minutes she was asleep. Spike
grinned when an unladylike snore came from her. He guessed he really was
under it when he found a snore adorable.



 

Chapter 14:

Chapter 14

She slept until it was just about time to land, resting against him. Spike closed his eyes and imagined her resting like this against him for eternity. Would it really be that hard to make her immortal like him? His Uncle risked a lot for Psyche—mostly because Aphrodite could be a jealous, territorial loon, but it'd been done. His mother had done it for his father. It wasn't unheard of in the least.

But that wasn't what he was here for. He was here to make Buffy strong and successful again. He was here to help her get her business back to the success it had been and mating up those singles out there.

However, Buffy couldn't be expected to be alone for the rest of her life could she? Well . . . maybe she could. Maybe she'd find so much pleasure in the business of helping others that she didn't NEED anyone. Yeah, that's right. She didn't need anyone but the smiling faces and happy success stories of her customers. Then, maybe a few would name their kids after her or she'd be a Goddess Mother to some and she'd be surrounded by happiness and love. It was enough to fulfill her.

Right?

Yeah, like his uncle would ever go for that. How unfair would it be to have the
matchmaker never make a match for herself? That wouldn't be right and he knew Buffy
wouldn't accept that. She wanted love, needed love, desired it and craved it with all that was in
her. She just didn't know how to express it because she was so afraid of being hurt once again.
And the way she felt about her clients . . . she had such a capacity for love that it'd be cruel to
have her not find that someone special she deserved to have. The question was: Did they
deserve her? Did ‘no' go with ‘way'? Of course they didn't deserve her. She was everything a
bloke could want minus the extreme stubbornness. Well, sometimes her stubbornness was
really hot. Though he preferred it when it wasn't directed at him.

"Spike?" Buffy murmured, burying her face in his shoulder.

He smiled warmly, "Kitten?"

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost, baby."

"How long have I been—God what was that?!" she bolted up in her seat, a panicked
expression on her face. "We're going down aren't we? We're going down in fiery explosion. I
can't believe I'm going to die here. On a plane. Of all the things—"

Spike pressed a finger to her lips, shushing her. "It was the plane descending a few
notches, luv. That's all; we're in the process of landing. No death to be had here. Do you think
the people on this plane would be so calm if we were going down?"

She relaxed a bit, but was still pretty much ramrod straight in her seat. "They could
have accepted their fate. How do I know?"

"We're fine, sit back and relax. No worries, yeah?"

She snorted.

"Well, that sounded promising."

"No, I'm fine…I am. I'm just fine…My life flashed before my eyes, but that's normal
right? Right?" Her voice was slightly high pitched and she looked pale.

"Don't you trust me kitten?"

"You're not flying this puppy are you?"

He grinned, opting not to tell her just how well he could fly. Without the plane. Instead,
he opted to get her riled up and yelling at him. That way, she'd be distracted.

"So, pet. Why don't you tell me exactly when you became such a chicken shit?"

Her jaw dropped in shock at first. Then her eyes narrowed and her hands balled into
fists. Her cheeks reddened immediately and opened her mouth.

This is going to be good, he thought. Was it sick that he was greedily anticipating her
reaming him out?

"I will have you know that I am NOT a chicken shit. I am a very brave woman as a
matter of fact. Oh sure there was that time I wigged out when I was forced to climb Mt.
Washington, but for crying out loud, I was only five years old and I really think I'm just
petrified of heights. I'm up on something high and I look down and all I can see is my body laid
out, dead and lifeless—"

"Lifeless means dead doesn't it?"

She poked him with her finger. "Stop being such a smart ass. I'm not scared of much
aside from death. . . and heights. But plummeting from a great height leads to death so in a
sense they could definitely go hand in hand. You know I started my own business!"

He grinned, "I know."

"And it wasn't easy. It took a lot. Especially in what I'm doing and let me tell you
something about fear buddy," she poked him again. "Do you have any idea what it's like to
match people up? I get this little spiral of dread through me everytime someone walks in that
door. They're putting their love life in MY hands. I'm responsible for setting them up with a
mate for life. Do you have any idea how incredibly daunting that is? It's terrifying. And yet I
still did it. I let people put their love life in my hands every day and – Jesus Christ, why DO I
do what I do? It's not like I'm any good at it anymore. Why are you exactly trying to make me
keep doing this?" She sat back in her chair. "I think I'm developing an ulcer—shit what was
that?"

"We've landed," he told her. "And you're bloody fantastic at what you do. You've just
lost your confidence is all. Don't worry, you'll get it back."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself."

"I'm sure of you."

"You've got serious problems then."

He shook his head. "Are you sure of me at all?"

She narrowed her eyes. "In what respect?"

"Do you trust me?"

She shrugged half heartedly.

"I'll say you do since you're on vacation with me."

"Still trying to figure that one out myself. . .and who takes a vacation after their first
week of work?"

He ignored her comment and her question. "And since you do trust me, then you should in turn trust yourself. I won't steer you wrong, my lioness."

She snorted again.


 

Chapter 15:

"So, oh King of Planning at the Last Minute—Do you have our
hotel
too?" Buffy asked after they'd grabbed their suitcases and
nabbed
themselves a rental car.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do," Spike told her haughtily.
She
raised an eyebrow at him. "I do. I just need to look in my little
envelope here—" He was hoping and praying that he'd just
overlooked that when his uncle had handed him the package
and that there was something about reservations. He opened
the envelope as Buffy waited, slightly impatiently, tapping her
foot.

He opened the envelope and rummaged around. He held his
breath until he found what he was looking for. He sighed in
relief. Thank Almighty Zeus! He was sure he'd never hear the
end of it if that hadn't been booked.

"See?" he thrust the paper containing the hotel complete with
pictures and directions at her.

She smiled and skimmed over the information. She
gasped. "Spike, this is incredible. It's a resort—we have
a
townhouse complete with a kitchen and a balcony—but it
only has one incredibly large bedroom that takes up the top
floor."

Spike rolled his eyes upwards, not sure if he should thank or
damn his uncle for that.

"Well, it says that the couch pulls out in the living room. So I
could take that—"

"No you will not. My girl gets the bedroom. Vacation
remember?"

She looked at him oddly, "But it's your vacation too."

"Buffy, you can take the bedroom."

"Thank you. Will you let me pay for my half of –"

"I told you I'm not taking your money."

"But Spike you had to have—"

He put a finger to her soft, full lips. "No. Not a cent, got
it?"

She nodded.

"You can treat me to dinner, how's that?"

She smiled and nodded. He grinned and ushered her to the
car they'd just rented. "Then we can check out the island,
yeah? Drive around, see what's up?"



She nodded enthusiastically and buckled herself in. He smiled
at the joy on her face.



"Spike, we can get massages in our room! And they have
Hula lessons and a private beach . . . oh look! They have a
pizza place right down the road from that delivers too!" Buffy
sat on the couch in their town house poring over the perks of
their resort and Spike sat back and just watched her. Already
she looked as if the weight she'd been carrying around in
Sunnydale had been lifted. He was seeing a passion for
living that he had yet to see and had hoped to bring out in her.
The magic of the quiet –and romantic—island was weaving
its spell. Course, Spike had to wonder what other magick's
were coming out to play and just what his uncle was
thinking. Was he trying to drive him right around the bend by
placing he and Buffy here? It was both his pleasure and his
hell.

She looked up at him "We should get some groceries so we
can make breakfast here. What do you think?"

He nodded and smiled.

"What are you thinking? You're being awfully quiet over
there."

"I'm thinking how cute you are when you're excited. You
positively glow kitten."

She blushed, something else he wasn't used to. Setting
down the brochure she jumped up. "So, let's get going.
I'm
feeling the jet lag catch up with me."

"Ah, but we have to beat it by staying up."

She groaned. "Slave driver.'

He grinned, "Yep. And your master wants you keep your
eyes open for a nice place to eat."



She wanted him that much she knew. Beyond that, she didn't
really want to analyze it. She'd known she was attracted to
him in Sunnydale, and she'd beaten the feeling down with a
stick. No, more like a tree – it took that much force to beat it
down, curb it and generally make the best of ignoring it. But
something about being in a different place so far away from
home, something about the island was weaving its spell
around her and she felt free. And, if she was even more
honest with herself, she felt safe with Spike, cherished
even. He cared about her and it wasn't because he wanted
something from her. No, he truly CARED. That meant
everything to her. Everything that she couldn't express with
words. Words failed her a lot of the time and she'd learned a
hard lesson that sometimes giving voice to what you really
felt inside, could only cause you pain. Showing vulnerability
meant that it could be used against you. You could become
crippled by your feelings when put in the hands of someone
not worthy of your love and trust.

Spike, however . . . she trusted. To a degree anyway. She
still needed to keep herself in check and wasn't about to go
all nilly willy with gushing to him about how much this meant
to her, about how much fun she was already having and
how thankful she was to him for getting her away.

However, that didn't mean she couldn't show him right?
Maybe she couldn't say how much she wanted him or how
much this meant to her, but she could surely show him. She
pondered that as she watched him decide what to order. My
but he could be picky when it came to choosing food. She
hadn't noticed before how he had to have only the best.
However, she should have known by the resort he'd booked
for them. It was outrageously gorgeous and exotic.

"What are you thinking about kitten?" he asked as he placed
his menu down.

She shook herself out of the trance she'd been in watching
him and shook her head, "Nothing."

"Looked like something."

"I was just thinking about how I could possibly thank you for
all this," said, gesturing around them.

"For dinner? You're paying remember?" he grinned.

"No, Spike, for this vacation."

"Just you havin' a good time is thanks enough for me."

"Hmm… We'll see," she murmured.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, his eyebrows
shooting up.

She shrugged, "Just that."

He fidgeted in his chair. "Oh?"

She studied him, cocking her head to the side. He was
nervous. She found that odd . . . and oddly refreshing. The
things he did to make her nervous – his pet names, his tender
looks, his fierce protectiveness and the way he always
seemed to want to touch her and hold her –now the tables
were possibly turned and he was the one who was
nervous. She grinned devilishly. Oh yes, she could definitely
have fun with this.


 

Chapter 16

After dinner, the pair decided to take a stroll around the resort and
check out the private beach. It surprised Spike to see the girl take
off at the first sign of water. Laughing gleefully she kicked off her
sandals and bounded into the water, lifting up her ankle length skirt
to her knees and allowing the water to splash over her. Thinking it
looked like fun, he chucked his shoes and socks and ran to join her.
She laughed as a large wave came and nearly soaked him.

"You think that's funny?" he asked, grinning and pointing at
her. "Just you wait, my lioness," and he started stalking her.

Squealing, she took off, running in the water away from him. He
laughed as
he ran after her, gasped as she fell and then braced himself as he
tripped
over her. The sound of her continuous laughter was let him know she
was
all right when he resurfaced. She sat up to her waist in the warm
ocean
water, her hair soaked and stringy and her tank clinging to her pert
breasts, outlining them for him, and her skirt rode up to her mid
thigh.

"You look like a water nymph," he breathed huskily.

She stopped laughing and cocked her head to the side. "Is that a good
thing?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen many?" she teased.

"Yes—Well, pictures of them."

She smiled and stood, her skirt falling back down. She held out her
hand to
him. "Come on."

He took her hand, wet as it was, and stood. They were mere inches
apart
and she gazed up at him. She reached out to push some of his curls
away
from his forehead and it was like watching her in slow motion. He
held his
breath and his eyes drifted shut as he leaned in to her touch. He
thought he
would fall apart at just the simple gesture of her hand moving down
the
side of his face, caressing him. His eyes flew open when he felt her
lips
touch his.

Buffy was kissing him was the repeated mantra in his mind as she
kissed
him softly, sweetly and much too quickly. He stood straight as a rod,
unsure
of what to do. How was this possible? His uncle was the God of Love,
he
himself was a well known ladies man – at one time—and he was struck
dumb by this slip of a mortal woman.

"Thank you," she whispered when she pulled back, putting some
distance
between them. He stared at her, letting her words settle over him.

"For?" he nearly croaked.

"For this vacation."

He shook his head, and in the process sprinkling her with
water. "Don't
thank me . . . like that."

"I wanted to."

"You don't have to," he told her.

"I know," she said simply and his eyes widened.

"Buffy—"

"I wanted to," she said again and he finally caught the meaning. What
she
was saying and what she was doing were not related. She thanked him
for
the vacation, but her actions were not because of gratitude. She
kissed him
because she WANTED to. He stood there, staring at her. She gave him a
soft smile and walked away.

What are you doing just standing here? Spike reprimanded himself.
Why
aren't you going after her? Coward.



Buffy looked over her shoulder; Spike was still standing there, the
waves
crashing around his knees. Had she gone too far? Should she have not
done
that? She'd thought he would have reciprocated. She thought he would
have liked –what Buffy? A broken woman such as yourself? You've
pretty
much told him how pathetic you were with the men you chose, the men
you'd loved and the lack of friends you have, not to mention the
nosedive
your business was taking. Why would he want you? He might care for
you,
but he cares as a friend and you just crossed a line. Tears mingled
with the
saltwater dripping down her face and she took a shuddering breath,
getting
ready to run back to their townhouse and far away from Spike when she
felt herself being brought up against a solid chest.

"Pet," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "No it's okay. I shouldn't have done that. I
crossed a
line and –"

He spun her around. "No, you didn't cross a line," he shook his
head. "You
shocked me. Buffy, I . . . I never thought you'd do that and then you
did
and . . . I thought I was dreaming," he finished on a whisper.

"You thought of me kissing you?" she squeaked out in shock.

"So many times."

"Oh."

"Can I kiss you now Buffy?"

She nodded.

Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned in until their breath just
mingled
and he gazed into her eyes, watching each emotion, watching her eyes
grow
greener as he stared at her. Darting out his tongue, he traced her
bottom
lip and she whimpered, her eyes falling shut. He smiled and dipped
his
head, pressing his lips against hers to which she immediately opened
her
mouth and he delved inside languorously tasting her, exploring her
mouth.
Her own tongue came out to play and he groaned, delving his hands
into her hair and bringing her against him, letting her feel just how
affected he was by her and how glad he was that she had done that.

Buffy broke away when the sensations that she had long thought were
no longer were running rampant through her. She thought she was
ready for this, hell, she'd thought she was so ready that she was
going to seduce him and tease him. But this. . . the feeling he
invoked in her was overwhelming. The things she felt in that kiss—he
might as well be the wave knocking her over.

She started to move away and he stopped her, held her fast. "Don't
go," he told her.

"Spike," she said, feeling a tad panicked.

He held her fast. "No, Buffy. Don't run. You've got nothing to run
from,
nothing to fear from me. I won't leave you like them."

Tears dripped from her eyes. "I'm scared," she whispered.

He wiped her tears away gently with the pads of his thumb. "Don't
be," he
whispered. "I won't let anything hurt you. Do you trust me?"

She swallowed and took a deep breath, nodding.

Spike took her in his arms and held her. "I'll hold you and care for
you. . . I
won't push you for anything and won't ever make you do anything you
don't want to do."

Buffy held onto him tight. "I'm still scared."

"I know, kitten," he told her and brushed a kiss across her
forehead. "I am
too."

"You're not afraid of anything."

If you only knew, he thought. "I'll hold you tonight kitten? Can I do
that?"

"Please," she whispered.

"For as long as you'll let me," he whispered back. Or as long as my
uncle
will, he thought.
 

Chapter 17

Spike watched her as she slept, cradling her close to him, running her hair through his fingers as she slumbered. The moonlight filtered in through the balcony of her room and he could hear the ocean in the distance. The sweet scent of the island combined with Buffy's own sweet scent assailed his senses and filled his heart to over flowing.

God, he loved her.

He was quite certain that he'd never felt this way before. The intense desire to protect her, worship her, hold onto her and never let her go. He wanted to cherish each moment he spent with her, file them away and visit them on occasion. He wanted to make memories with her, have children with her –he wanted to make her immortal. That way, they'd be together forever. He feared the consequence if he asked. He already feared what Eros would do if he knew what was happening. He wouldn't trade each stolen moment he had with Buffy though. He'd steal his time and cherish each and every moment. He'd find a way for them to be together, he'd make his uncle see that this was the way it was supposed to be.

He hoped.

"Spike?" Buffy murmured in her sleep, looking up at him sleepily.

"What's the matter, kitten? Did I wake you?"

"No, I –" she looked down, "I sensed that you were awake."

His eyes widened. "You did?"

"I don't know how, I just did and it made me wake up."

He smiled and moved closer to her.

"Why are you awake?" she asked. "Are you uncomfortable?"

"No, I'm very comfortable."

She smirked, "You did all that just so you didn't have to sleep on the pull
out. Admit it."

He chuckled, then looked at her solemnly. "If I'm keeping you up, I'll go."

She jutted out an arm, stopping him. "No, please," she bit her lip and looked
down shyly. "I like having you here."

"This is a different side of you. One I'm not used to," he told her softly.

She met his eyes and smirked, "The softer side of Buffy?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say it but—"

She playfully hit him. "I don't know what it is exactly. . . well, I think I do. I
just feel. . . free. I don't feel weighed down, don't feel as if its another day
for me to mess up someone's love life—"

"Don't say that Buffy. You've brought more joy than heartache and you
know it."

"Yeah, but those few hearts you do mismatch . . . It stays with you and far
outweighs the good you've done. Especially in situations where one wants to
be with someone and the other doesn't reciprocate. It's hard to watch."

"You love seeing people happy," Spike observed.

"Yeah," she nodded slowly and rolled to her back, staring up at the ceiling.
"And somewhere, I lost how to make myself happy. I thought I knew, but it
turned out that I was just mismatching myself. That, and throwing myself
into my work and not taking the time to nurture the few good friends I did
have." Spike scooted closer and wrapped an arm across Buffy's stomach,
resting his chin on her shoulder. "I'm your friend."

She quirked an eyebrow and looked over at him. "Are you now?"

He nodded and started tracing patterns on her tummy with his finger. "I'm
even more than that. . . but I'll wait until you're ready."

"Spike," she looked panicked.

He put his finger to her lips. "Sshh.. Not yet. No reason to run scared luv.
Besides, don't you know that if you run I'd just come find you?"

"Why does that not surprise me?" she asked dryly.

He chuckled. "Because in the short time you've known me, you know it's
true."

She turned to face him, "What's your story?"

He blinked, "Yeah, your story. Past relationships, what led you to walk into
my place, tell me about yourself Spike. Why do you prefer Spike rather
than William?"

"It was a –uh—nickname my father gave me."

She smiled. "Why?"

"I was always getting into his uh, arrows."

Her eyebrows flew off her head. "His arrows?"

"He was heavy into archery. And he's always been my idol. I always got
into his ‘stash', so he nicknamed me Spike."

"Did you ever hurt yourself?"

He grinned. "Nah. But I did poke my best friend Angel in the ass a few
times."

Buffy giggled. "Spike and Angel huh? Very different."

"I come from a long line of ‘very different' people."

"Do they live in West Athens where you came from?"

"Yes."

"That it? Any more cute stories of you as a kid? What's your dad like?"

"He's a good guy. He's been through a lot."

"Oh?"

"Lots of, um, changes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I'd rather discuss you," he smiled and leaned in, pecking her nose.

"Spike, all we do is talk about me. I want to talk about you."

"But you're my favorite subject," he grinned and nuzzled her neck.

"Spike," she started to protest.

"Kiss me," he whispered and seconds before covering her lips with his.

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

Buffy marveled at his ability to distract her from everything in the world but him when his lips touched hers. He was such a good kisser. No…good wasn't strong enough. Perfect. He was a perfect kisser. It was like he knew exactly how she liked to be kissed. And when his tongue met hers in a duel, she heard herself moan and drew him closer so that their bodies were pressed together. His hand drifted under her tank and cupped her breast in his hand, his thumb grazing her nipple.

God, how long had it been since she'd been touched? Too long. Much too long. He set her skin ablaze with his tender touch in nanoseconds. She was certain though, that it was not just the fact that she hadn't had sex in so long she was sure she was a virgin again. No, she was certain instead that it was him. She'd never felt this way with anyone else—this alive, this passionate, this set on fire. It was true she'd been drawn to him since she'd laid eyes on him. And she'd fought it tooth and nail too. But he wouldn't let her. He was set on chipping those walls she'd erected and my god, was he good at it.

All her life all she'd wanted was someone to fight for her. Someone to
cherish her the way her father cherished her mother—still. She wanted the
burning love they still had. The way they looked at each other as if it were
the first time, every time. She wanted that. With Spike, she felt she could
have it. Everyone before him was a disappointment, they paled in
comparison the blinding sun that was Spike. He outshone them, he
surpassed them, he—currently had her tank top over her breasts and was
suckling at him.

"Spike," she gasped.

He stopped and looked up at her. "Yes, kitten?"

"I – I think you should—"

"Stop?"

She nodded and bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he whispered and pulled her tank back over her breasts.
He rolled to his side and gathered her in his arms. "I only want you when
you're sure."

"It's just that it's been so long since I . . . since I. . ."

"Ssshhh…kitten, it's okay. I've got you, that's all you need to remember
okay?"

She nodded and he fluttered a kiss across her brow. "Sleep now, luv. Sleep."

Snuggling into him, she found herself exhausted again. Breaking down walls
sure took a lot out of a person.

 

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