Chapter 1:

Buffy stared disbelievingly at her boss. "You want me to what?"

Spike had the audacity to smile of course. "Sounds like you have to represent me luv."

"Shut up, Spike," she snapped at him and he just chuckled to himself. Rolling her eyes, she stared at her boss and what she thought was her good friend, Cordelia Chase.. "Don't do this to me. I can't do it. I'll kill him. You realize I will kill him right?"

"Hey!" Now he was offended?

Buffy glared at him, telling him to shut up with her eyes.

Spike ignored her. "If you must know you stupid bint, I asked for you specifically."

"Stupid bint? What the hell is a ‘bint' anyway? And I'm not stupid. You are."

"You bloody well are stupid. You act as if—"

"Can you guys knock it off please? God! What is wrong with you two?" Cordy exclaimed.

"I can't stand him. I thought that was obvious," Buffy said matter-of-factly.

"That hurts Summers, that really hurts," Spike told her, putting a hand over his heart.

"Cry me a friggen river," she spat. "Why me Spike?"

"Because you're the best publicist here."

"There are plenty of other—"

"I want you."

She stopped the tirade she was about to start and stared at him. For once, he looked sincere. His blue eyes were intense and almost gray with his earnestness. He didn't have his patented smirk on, he was just full of. . . solemnity. It startled her. She started to look around the room.

"What the bleeding hell are you doing now?" He asked her.

"I'm looking for where the portal is. I'm obviously in some alternate reality. You actually sound sincere."

He sighed heavily and stuck out his hand. "Truce?"

She looked at him warily and at the offered hand. Cordy was watching expectantly.

"Fine, truce," she said and ignored the proffered hand. She started for her office. "Let's look at a schedule and get some ideas."

Spike sighed and looked at Cordy. She shrugged. "Good luck."

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it."

"Why did you want her again?"

Spike smiled, "how could I not?"

"What are your plans for tonight?" Spike asked as he watched Buffy typing furiously into her computer. He stared at her, the way she bit her lip and tilted her head to the side, he watched the different facial expressions pass over her face. He wondered if she even knew how beautiful she truly was.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Why?"

"Just curious."

"Oh."

Silence.

"You gonna tell me or do I have to guess?"

"I'm going out."

"With?"

"No one you know."

"I know everyone you hang out with pet."

"Not everyone."

"Who then? A boy?" He chuckled.

She looked at him, "yes, as a matter of fact."

Spike stopped, his smile fading. "Who is it?"

She rolled her eyes. "We don't run with the same crowd anymore Spike. It's not important
for you to know every detail about my life anymore."

"I still retain the right to know."

"You've never retained the right to know anything about my life, but cool."

"You're a brat, you know that?" He was getting seriously angry with her now.

She smiled sweetly and stood, "thank you," and she sauntered out of the room.

Spike narrowed his eyes at her retreating form. He looked on her desk and found the source of what could tell him where she was going tonight and with whom: Her datebook. He grinned evilly and quickly fumbled through it.

"Angel? Who the soddin' hell is Angel?" He murmured to himself and then quickly placed the book down.

Buffy came in a second later. "I'll be by your place at 9am tomorrow for the interview that takes place at 10. Got it?"

"Nine am luv, I got it."

"Stop calling me that."

"What?"

"Luv."

"Why?"

"Uh, maybe because you don't mean it?"

"How do you know I don't mean it?" He tucked his tongue behind his front teeth, grinning
at her.

"Because you can't stand me remember?"

He shook his head and stood. "Sometimes I forget." Pause. "Luv." And he left before she could protest.



"So how was your day?" Angel, Buffy's boyfriend asked as he kissed her softly, holding her in his arms.

She groaned as she rested her head against his chest, "long. I have to represent Spike for a while."

"Spike?"

"You remember I told you about the annoying British guy that all my friends seemed to love in high school and I could not stand? He moved here when he was a sophomore. . . made my life a living hell. . . we hated each other. Although, I rather think he enjoyed being a pain in my ass. Well, he got a recording contract AND a book deal so now he's being catapulted into fame and he asks for me to represent him. ME."

Angel raised an eyebrow, "why?"

"I suppose he thinks I'll do whatever I can to get him exposure so that I don't have to deal with him anymore."

"You hate him that much?"

Buffy paused, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I guess I don't HATE him. It's just that in high school he did whatever he could to drive me nuts. He always tried to worm his way into my life and I just couldn't stand him. He has grown up since then, I suppose."

"You've still kept in touch with him?"

"Yeah, go fig. Not directly, more like indirectly. We still share the same friends and he always seems to be around where I am."

Angel fell silent. To him it sounded like the man named Spike had a thing for his girl. That wouldn't do at all. He might not have the history that Spike had, but he now part of Buffy's life and he wasn't going to let Spike interfere with that. Pulling her closer to him, he placed a sweet kiss on her forehead.

"I just want to forget about work and enjoy being here with you," she told him.

Angel smiled, "sounds good. Would you like a coffee?"

"Please."

Buffy smiled as she watched her boyfriend walk over to the coffee area. She sat back in the plush seat in the large but cozy bookstore and allowed her insides to turn to mush.

"Fancy meetin' you here, pet."

She froze. That voice. That annoying, British voice could only belong to one person.

She looked up to see Spike grinning at her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She asked, annoyed.

"Wanted to get something to read. Check out where I want my book to be placed."

"Um, try under Marsters in Fiction. That's your last name and that is what your book is. Fiction."

"I was talking about under new releases," he glared.

"Again, under Marsters."

"Have a bloody answer for everything don't you?"

"Except for why you continue to breathe my air. Go away Spike."

"Why? So you can continue snogging your gigantic boyfriend in public?"

"He is NOT gigantic!!"

"Please, he looks like he could suffocate you.."

"I'm taking heat from the guy in the outdated Billy Idol look? That's rich."

"I'm not a metrosexual."

"You're not even sexual!"

"You're a bitch!"

"You're an asshole!" She jumped up, staring him down.

"Uh, Buffy?"

"What?" Buffy snapped, not even bothering to look at who was speaking to her. She was too busy wondering how she could rip Spike's head off and get away with it.

"Buffy?" The voice said, softer this time, and surprised.

She looked to see Angel standing there kind of awkwardly with their coffee. She calmed instantly and took a step away from Spike.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said softly and took her coffee from him. "This is Spike."

Angel looked toward the man that had turned his normally sweet and gentle girlfriend into a raving lunatic. "Hi. I'm Angel. Her boyfriend."

Spike narrowed his eyes at the man. Jealousy coursed through him, despite how hard he tried to ignore it. "Hi," he said tightly.

"Say goodbye now Spike. I'll see you at nine okay?" Buffy told him, nudging Angel slowly away from Spike.

"Bye," Spike said through clenched teeth as he watched Buffy sling her arm through Angel's and waltz away. What right did that ponce have to be that comfortable with her and get her to respond so kindly to him? What did he have to do to garner that kind of affection?
 

Chapter 2:

Just as promised, promptly at nine, Buffy arrived to take him to the interview. She prepped him in the car, giving him a list of the possible questions that would be asked, and the answers he should steer away from.



Spike was barely paying attention. “Where’d you meet him?”



Buffy stopped talking, looking confused. “Who?”



“Angel.”



“Oh. I met him at a poetry reading.”



“He writes?”



“Yeah, he writes. Okay, so I’m thinking you should not mention how many—“



“You love him?”



“Am I being interviewed or--?”



“I’m curious. Gotta look out for you, you know.”



She stared at him. “What?”



“Buffy, even if you never liked me. . . I always liked you. No matter what you’ll always be in

my life. I can’t just cut you out like that. I’ll always be here, you know that, don’t you?”



She didn’t know what to say and so she sat back and stared out the window for a long time,

Spike watching her intently the whole time. Finally, she turned to him and stuck out her hand.

“Truce. Again.”



He took it, fitting his hand against hers perfectly. He felt a jolt of electricity rush through

him and wondered if she felt it too. He looked up at her. Their eyes met.



“Truce,” she said again, prompting him.



He nodded, “truce.”



She took her hand back and started in again with the questions. For now, he let his questions about Angel slide.







“Spike, word of advice, you don’t need to flirt with every single female that comes within a mile radius.”



“Why not?”



“Do you want a rep like Colin Farrell?”



He pretended to think about it.



“Okay then. Maybe you do, but I would rather not have you, my client, have that rep. You

don’t want to get somewhere just based on how many girls you can nail.”



He stared at her, “jealous pet?”



She rolled her eyes, “yeah, I’m jealous. I’m being serious Spike. I’m representing you. That

means that you don’t act like a man whore. Got it?”



“Got it,” he smiled broadly. “See, this is why I picked you. You know me better than anyone

and you know what’s best for me.”



Her jaw dropped, “I know you better than anyone? How is that possible?”



“You’ve known me for how long? Forever it seems like. You’re the only one I know that can

push all my buttons. Why? Because you know just what buttons to push. Anyone who knows me

well enough should know just what buttons to push on me. You know what makes me happy, sad

and angry. This is why you’re my publicist.”



She stared at him.



“And my friend,” he added, looking directly in her eyes.



She nodded slowly and sat back, silent. She stared out the window and Spike watched her,

wondering what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. He just hoped it didn’t have anything to

do with Angel and instead had everything to do with him.



She was still silent when they returned to his home. He expected her to follow him up, but

she didn’t. She sat in the limo, watching him expressionless.



“Pet? You coming up?”



“No, I’ve got some work to do. I’ll be in touch.”



He sighed, “aren’t you hungry?”



“I’ll catch something at the office.”



“I want you to come in.”



“Spike—“



“Please?”



She sighed heavily. “Fine. I just need to call Angel. I promised after the interview was done,

I would.”



Spike just nodded, trying his best not to make a smart ass comment about Angel. That

would just send her off.



He led her up to his loft and she silently followed, probably figuring how surreal this all was.

They’d never hung out in high school alone. They always had a slew of people around them. There

was a reason for that.



She couldn’t stand him. Which would work out all well and good if not for one small

problem—he was completely smitten with her. He figured the more of a hard time he gave her;

the more she paid attention to him. It was better than her ignoring him. As long as he had her

attention, she wouldn’t be going anywhere. At least not in his mind. So, even after all these years past high school and college, he still stuck around to torment her. This time though, he wasn’t smitten. He was in love. The problem was, she still couldn’t stand him. He thought maybe if he started to treat her differently, worked with her, slowly ripped down the walls she had up against him, she’d come around. Now he had another barrier to get through: Angel.



“You have a nice place,” she told him simply as she took in her surroundings. “You even decorated. I’m impressed.”



He grinned, “was that a compliment?”



She gave him a look, “don’t push your luck. Phone?”



He sighed inwardly. “This way.”



He led her down the hall and into the study. “Privacy here.”



“Thanks,” she said quietly and reached for the phone.



“What does the lady wish for lunch?”



“What do you have?”



“How about. . . pancakes? I bet you didn’t have a proper breakfast this morning, did you?”



She shook her head, grinning. “I didn’t. That sounds really good.”



“How about bacon and sausage to go with it?”



“You’re making my mouth water,” she laughed.



“Breakfast coming up. Orange juice?”



“Iced coffee?”



“Coming up.”











When she rejoined him later, she couldn’t help but smile as she found him flipping pancakes

over a wide grill and moving the sausage and bacon around.



“Your secret is out. You can cook.”



He turned and smiled at her. “That’s not something you can put in a magazine. That’s our

secret.”



“Why? I mean, if word got out that you could cook, do you know how many girls would be

banging down your door?” She told him as she pulled up a stool and sat down next to him, watching him work.



“I don’t want a slew of girls, contrary to popular belief among, well, you.”



“Color me surprised.”



“I like to flirt and have fun, but I’m done with the one night stands and flings.”



She bolted up and touched the back of her hand to his head. “Are you feeling all right? I

don’t need my star getting sick on me now.”



“Ha bloody ha,” and he grabbed her wrist, bringing her hand off his forehead. A shiver went

through her and she snatched her hand away.



“So, shall we take out an ad for what Spike Marsters is really looking for?”



He looked down at her, studying her for a long time that she began to fidget under his gaze.

“No. When the right girl comes along, I’ll know.”



“Will she?”



He stared at her intently, “Oh yes. I’ll make sure of that.”



Feeling awkward all of a sudden, Buffy jumped down from the stool and started opening

cabinets. “Plates? Cups?”



He sauntered over to where she stood, opening cabinets and stood next to her, so close she

could feel his body heat and reached up slightly in front of her to grab cups. He turned into her, handing them to her.



“Buffy,” he breathed. Her heart was racing. Why was her heart racing?



“Yeah?” She said loudly and stepped away from him.



Whatever spell he had woven around her for that brief moment, fled.



“The plates are over there,” he pointed across the kitchen.



“Thanks,” and she went for them.







“So was it all bad to spend some time with me alone?” Spike asked as she gathered her

things.



She shook her head, “no. Surprisingly no.”



“Gee, thanks,” he said dryly.



She laughed, “habit. Come on, it wouldn’t be us if we didn’t insult each other at least. . .well,

any chance we got.”



“But, friends?”



She smiled and nodded, “friends.” Then she pointed at him. “Just don’t piss me off!”



He laughed and held up his hands. “I’ll try not to. Can’t make any promises.”



“I know. It’s you.”











True to her word, he did manage to piss her off two days later when he refused to play a free

concert a Boston radio station was holding.



“Are you being serious right now?” She asked him, her tone neutral, but letting him know

that she thought he was being an idiot.



He glared at her. “Very. I’m paying you to promote me, not sell me out.”



“Spike, you have to start somewhere. You’re not just going to make an album and boom—everyone suddenly knows who you are and records by the trillions are sold. You need EXPOSURE.”



“Not for a bloody pop concert where the headliner is Ashley Simpson.”



“So, what are you saying? If the local rock station was doing a free concert you’d do it. But



you won’t do it at the largest event that stars from all over are TRAVELLING to do?”



“’S’ right.”



“I knew it couldn’t last long,” she muttered as she stormed past him to her office.



“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, closing her door.



“I mean it was just a matter of time before you managed to piss me off.” “Sorry that I’m

not some automaton that does whatever you think is right when I think it’s wrong. It’s my job too

here!”



“Then if I’m doing such a shitty job why don’t you find someone else?” She shouted at him,

not caring if everyone on the floor could hear them.



“I don’t want anyone else!” He shouted back to her.



“Why me? For Christ’s sake, I obviously don’t KNOW you if I was willing to ‘sell you out’!

Find someone else!”



“I.Don’t.Want. Anyone. Else.” He told her through gritted teeth, their faces inches from

each other as they glared daggers.



“Why. Not?” She gritted back.



He relaxed a bit. “Because I want you. Only you. No one else will satisfy me.”



The tone, the softness, the tenderness in his eyes—it made her gasp and stand back.

Something told her he wasn’t just talking about her PR for him. Her eyebrows knit as she stared at

him, not sure what to say or do next.



“Maybe you should go so I can make some phone calls. I’ll call you,” she mumbled, turning

her back on him.



She heard him sigh as she started blindly fumbling through the papers on her desk and then suddenly she could feel him, behind her, surrounding her it seemed. She could feel him everywhere on her skin; she could feel his heat, his breath on her neck.



“Buffy.”



She froze, “what?”



He ran a hand down her bare arm, eliciting goose bumps. “Don’t be mad at me. I know you’re doing your job. I’m difficult, I know I am.”



She spun now, “difficult?” She let out a bitter laugh that got caught in her throat at the sight

of his tender gaze.



“Forgive me?” He whispered.



“Uh-huh,” she agreed, her eyes transfixed on his playing with a strand of her hair.



“Did you know that you were beautiful?”



Her eyes snapped up at that. “What?”



“You’re bleedin’ beautiful. Does Angel know how lucky he is?”



She was, for once, at a complete loss for words. All she could do was stare at him wide eyed.



He smiled saucily, “he doesn’t know does he? How lucky he is to have you?”



This was a game, was the only thought running in her mind. This was a game to him. With

that angering thought, she shoved him away from her. He looked at her, surprised. At least he had

the decency to do that.



“Don’t think your charm can get you out of every situation Mr. Marsters. I’m not a pawn in

your little head games.”


“Buffy.”

“I have calls to make. Please leave my office,” she told him coldly.



Sighing heavily, Spike nodded and left.



Buffy slumped in her chair and put her head in her hands, trying to calm her racing heart.

“What the hell is he playing at?”
 

Chapter 3:

A week had passed since the encounter in Buffy’s office and both had done well at not bringing it up again. Spike, for his part, had been trying to get more of a reaction from her that he’d started to get at his apartment. He saw it in her eyes that day. She didn’t realize it, but he saw it. She was developing feelings for him. And, being the hunter that he was, he was going to hunt until he caught her. Then, he was never going to let her go.



It was a horrible misunderstanding that she’d thought he was just trying to charm her out of doing the concert and being mad at him. All he’d really been thinking at that moment in time was that he had to kiss her or he’d go mad. Leaving her office without kissing her had made him go mad indeed.



She was consuming him, he realized. She was taking over his entire life. All he thought about was her; all he dreamt about was her. Everytime he was in the same room with her, he couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t stop himself from imagining the hundred ways he would take her. He wanted her enveloped in him and for them to stay that way forever. He wanted to love her, cherish her, and possess her. Just as she’d possessed him.



So now, as they sat side by side in a limo, waiting to be dropped off at the airport for an impromptu trip to New York to do a couple of interviews, Spike was barely listening to her as she rattled off the itinerary. He was staring at her and thinking she was so beautiful he couldn’t breathe.



She handed him the piece of paper. “Spike? Are you listening?”



He nodded and took the paper, glanced at it. “How’s Angel?”



She set her bag between them. “He’s good. Thanks for asking. Did you remember the leather jacket? I think that would be a good trademark for you.”



“I remembered. How long you been together now?”



“About four months. Don’t lose that itinerary. That is your bible while we’re over there.”



“Do you love him?”



“What is it with you and this fascination with Angel? Do you want to date him?”



“Funny, pet, funny. I just want to make sure he’s good enough for my Buffy.”



She smirked, “YOUR Buffy huh?”



He nodded, “didn’t know that you were mine, did ya?”



“Guess not.”



“Well you are.”



“I guess that makes you mine then?”



“It does.”



“Well, my Spike, we’re here.”



He followed her out of the car and helped her with her luggage. “Do you love him?”



“How is that any of your business? And before you answer, allow me. It’s not. Friends or

not, it’s not your business what goes on with Angel and I.”



“I’m sure you tell everyone else though, don’t you? I bet if I asked Cordy how you felt about

Angel, she’d know. You still shut me out,” he told her, following her so closely into the airport he

was nearly nipping at her heels.



She slightly turned to stare at him. “Are you kidding me?” She shook her head. Then she

stopped and spun to him, causing him to nearly collide into her. She held up her hands to stop him,

resting them on his chest. “What the hell is going on with you? Spike, we’ve been ‘friends’ for a little

over two weeks—“



“We’ve been friends a lot longer than that. You just never wanted to admit it.”



“Why are you on me about this? Stop. My personal life is not up for discussion, all right?”



He glared at her. “Fine.”



“Thank you.” And she spun back around and headed for the line.







Sitting side by side in the plain, she watched as Spike sulked. She rolled her eyes and turned

toward the window, trying to block him out.



“I’m sorry I interrogated you,” she heard him say softly.



She turned back to him. “Let’s just forget it okay?” He nodded, not looking at her. The plane jolted to a start and she jumped and then swallowed hard.



“You all right pet?” He asked her.



“Yeah, just surprised me.”



“That why you’re gripping the arm rest for dear life?”



She looked down at her white knuckles and immediately loosened her grip, not wanting Spike to think she was a wimp. ‘Yeah, I’m fine.”



“You’re white as a sheet.”



“I’m Fine,” she said exasperated.



“You’re scared,” he pointed at her.



“Not true.”



“You are,” he smiled broadly.



“You would enjoy that. IF it were true.”



“No I wouldn’t, well, maybe a little. It’d be nice to see Miss High and Mighty be human every once in a while.”



“What’s that supposed to mean?”



“You act as if you have to be Miss Superpower Career Woman that can do it all. Have the boyfriend, the job and the social life. You can’t possibly be as together as you always project you are.”



Her jaw dropped open.



“Which leads me to the question. Are you in love with Angel?”



She shook her head, “you are unbelievable. Is there no limit to what you will do to get what you want?”



He tucked his tongue behind his teeth and smirked, “nope.”



“Well, I’m not answering. Mostly because you want me to so much and I don’t want to give

you that luxury.”



“You think I don’t know, but I do.”



“Know what?”



“Why you won’t answer.”



“Oh? And why won’t I?”



“Because you can’t lie. You’re horrible at it. So, you won’t lie to me and tell me you do when you don’t.”



“How do you know that I just don’t want to tell you that I don’t when I don’t?”



His eyes widened. Hers followed. Truth was out. And she hated him for it. Mostly because it was something she hadn’t even been able to admit to herself, let alone to him. She unbuckled her seat belt and stood, grabbing her purse and bag.



“Pet, where are you going? What are you doing?”



She looked around the cabin, spotting one empty window seat in the back. She didn’t answer him, but moved around him.



He grabbed her arm. “Pet, where are you going?”



“I’m not sitting with you,” she hissed and walked away from him. She sat herself down in the empty seat and turned away from his prying eyes. He was staring at her with longing and regret. Good. Let him feel bad. She turned her head so that he couldn’t see and stared at the window. She felt herself well up in tears and soon they were dropping onto the window and her hands. She tried to make herself stop, but couldn’t. In fact, the more she tried, the more the tears fell. Her fears about herself and her ability to have any normal relationship were surfacing and she couldn’t stop.



“Ma’am do you mind if I trade seats with you? You can have mine over there. All to yourself.”



She still refused to look at him, trying even harder to stop her tears.



“I can’t stand it when you cry,” he told her.



“Leave me alone.”



“Can’t do it sweetheart. Not when I had something to do with making you cry.”



“Then have something to do with making me feel better and leave me alone.”



“Told you I can’t do that. Kitten, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you---“



She spun to face him, tear stained, “then why? Why did you do it? Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”



“I don’t know, pet. I don’t know. I’m sorry. I hate to see you cry, I hate to be the one to make you cry. Just. . . tell me what I can do now to make it better.”



“Nothing,” she said mournfully and turned away again.



He surprised her by taking her hand. “I want to make it better because I care about you Buffy. I don’t ever want you to cry and if I could make all the bad things disappear so you’d never cry, I would do it.”



She looked at him and started to laugh through her tears. “As far as lines go, that’s the best. You should put that in one of your novels. The heroine will be putty in the hero’s arms.”



“I don’t know,” he frowned, “you’re not putty in mine.”



She hit him playfully and moved her hand out of his grasp. “I don’t want to talk to you

about this right now okay?”



He nodded, “when you’re ready. Do you forgive me?”



She sighed, “for now.”





They arrived in New York and got their luggage, hailed a cab and rode to their hotel, all in silence. Spike was watching her, not wanting to push her. He’d hurt her by making her admit that she didn’t love him and he didn’t feel the joy he’d thought he’d feel by that admission. He was worried by her tears. It wasn’t like her to cry—at all. To see her cry worried him and all he wanted to do was make it better. He followed her up to their rooms, on the same floor of the hotel, and waited by her as she unlocked her door. She looked over at him. “I’ll come by later so we can go over tomorrow.”



“That’s it then?” He asked.



“I just don’t feel like talking right now. I kind of want to be alone.”



He sighed and leaned in, kissing her forehead. “If you need me, I’m here, okay?”



She nodded, mumbled her thanks and in she went.


Thanks guys for the reviews! They mean a lot to me :) Please keep them coming...I want to hear what you think such as....what would you like to happen while they're in New York???

 

Chapter 4:

A few hours later, Spike was going mad wondering what was going on with her. He figured he could treat her to dinner to make it up to her and cheer her up. He went to her room and knocked on the door. No answer. His eyes narrowed and he knocked again. “Pet? Buffy?” No answer. He was just about to start hunting for her when the door flew open to reveal a sleepy, tousled Buffy.



“What’s wrong?” She asked, yawning.



He smiled at how cute she looked. “Have a nice nap?”


She nodded. “Apparently I was tired. Come in.”



He followed her inside, resisting the urge to reach out run his fingers through her tousled locks. “Wanted to know if you wanted to get something to eat?”


She nodded, “yeah. I’m hungry now that I’m awake. Have a seat; I’m just going to freshen up.”



He sat in her ‘living room’ and flicked on the TV, waiting for her to come

back. When she did, she looked awake and fresh. Her hair brushed, her makeup reapplied, her skin glowing. She was even smiling a bit. “Ready?”



He nodded and followed her out.



They opted to eat in the hotel restaurant and they sat in amiable silence and watched the people around them float here and there.



Suddenly, Buffy turned to him and said conversationally. “Let’s do something fun tonight.”



Spike blinked. She wanted his company for longer than dinner? She wanted to spend time with him? He tried to recover his shock quickly. “Like what?”



She shrugged. “Something fun.” She leaned forward, her eyes glittering with mischief. “Let’s go club hopping. We’ll make it a rule that we have to have at least one drink before we move on to the next one. And . . . . among the clubs we have to hit is a female strip club and a male strip club.”



Now his jaw dropped. Was this the same straight-laced Buffy he’d known since high school? “Are you serious?”



She nodded, smiling devilishly. “Very.”



“You want to watch women strip,” he said matter of factly.



She shrugged, “why not? We are in New York; we might as well take advantage of it, right? You done yet?” She pointed at his food.



He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”



“Let’s go then,” and she stood, dropping some bills on the table before waltzing off. He followed suit and ran after her. He grinned in anticipation as he watched her behind sway out the door.


They’d been to two clubs and she’d had two drinks so far. She was loose and smiling and talking animatedly to Spike who was sucking up the attention and basking in it. It helped that he was her sole companion, but they were learning things about each other that one or both of them had never taken the time to learn before. For Buffy, she liked him the more she learned and for Spike, he was falling in love that much more the more he learned. She enjoyed his ability to adapt to his surroundings and was learning from him how to do that. He was learning that whenever she was nervous, she leaned on him and by the time they had started for their third club, she’d taken to holding onto his arm as she laughed about some of the freaks they’d encountered in the previous club. He laughed along with her and easily slipped his hand over hers, securing her hand in place on his arm, possessively. He wanted the world to know that she was his. It didn’t matter to him that the girl on his arm knew it yet, for tonight at least, she was his.



Entering their third club, Spike watched bug eyed as he took in the writhing half naked bodies of what appeared to be a fantasy/sex club. He looked over at Buffy whose jaw had dropped to the ground and was paling considerably by the minute. She gulped and looked at him, unconsciously tightening her hand on his arm. “I don’t know, Spike.”



He grinned, “come on. You wanted to experience New York. Let’s experience it.”



She gestured at the bodies around them engaged in…she tilted her head to the side. Was that couple--?



“Try not to gawk, sweetheart,” he told her in her ear and he could smell the sweet scent of warm vanilla waft through his nose. God, he wanted to eat her up. She looked up at him wide-eyed and nodded. He noticed though, that she plastered herself at his side.



“Let’s get our one drink,” she told him and led him to the bar.



Once at the bar, she allowed herself some room from him and while they waited, she swiveled to watch the crowd.



“Hey beautiful.”



Buffy looked to see who was talking and who he was talking to when she realized that dark haired man was talking to HER.



“H-hi.”



His eyes raked over her body, “how you doing?”



“Good, how are you?”



He chuckled and leaned in, “I’ll be doing great if you agree to dance with me.” Boldly, he ran a hand down her bare arm and licked his lips.



“The lady is with me,” Spike spoke up. She looked up at him and was startled to find Spike looking about ready to pummel the guy. Huh, whaddya know. Spike was defending her honor. Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulders and brought her close.



“How about a sandwich?” The guy asked.



Buffy’s jaw dropped for the hundredth time. Spike glared. “No, I don’t share her.”



The guy shrugged and walked off.



Buffy smiled up at Spike, “Spike Marsters, you’re my hero,” she said, imitating Cameron from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.



Spike laughed and handed her the beer she ordered. “Want to watch?”



“Let’s walk around. I want to see stuff.”



Spike laughed and noted that she must have felt braver because she was no longer plastered against him. He missed it; he wanted her back by his side again.



Spike couldn’t help but find the whole atmosphere incredibly erotic as he watched couples writhe, make out and just about fornicate all over the club. The smell of sex, perfume, cologne and sweat permeated the air and it was intoxicating. Stopping suddenly and blatantly watching the activity, Spike watched with hunger as Buffy nibbled her bottom lip. She looked up at him and grinned saucily before grabbing his hand and leading him to the floor. “Teach me,” she told him. “I want to dance like that.” She pointed to the grinding bodies on the floor and Spike gulped this time.



“Buffy,” he started uncertainly. She flung herself into his arms and wrapped herself around him. He groaned at the feeling. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her even closer, molding their bodies together and she wrapped her arms around his neck.



He stared into her wondrous green eyes and lost himself. Letting the music over take him and the feel of her body against his, he began to move slowly, letting her feel every part of him as he did her. She looked shook up, but determined to do this at the same time. He watched her eyes and the emotions reflected in their green depths. He couldn’t really decipher many of them, but he enjoyed trying to figure it out. He felt himself rise in arousal and didn’t care any longer if she felt it. He knew the minute she did though because she laughed and pushed herself away from him, shaking her finger at him.



“Naughty boy,” she teased him.



He grabbed her, hauling her against him again, “let’s both be naughty.”



She laughed again and pushed him away. “Now, now. I have a boyfriend. You have to be nice,” and she bounded off, grabbing his hand. “Next club!”



He followed her, wanting nothing more than to kiss her and lose himself in her, claim her, mark her, make her his. He couldn’t though. He had to keep himself in check or he’d lose her forever by acting rashly. His heart was thumping in his chest and he was nearly shaking with desire. God, this had never happened to him. What kind of spell had she cast on him?



The next club was a female strip club, which did not help his raging libido. Was it him or did all the girls look like her? Oh God, he couldn’t even look at gorgeous naked women without seeing her. What was happening to him? He was obsessed.



She watched in open fascination and contemplativeness. She pointed at the girl stripping on stage. “I could do that.”



Spike groaned and his head dropped to the table. Images of Buffy stripping for him danced in his head.



She laughed at him, “what’s wrong?”



He looked up at her with unbridled lust, “are you trying to kill me?”



She looked taken aback. As if she might not know that she was desired, as if she might not know that he wanted her. “Want to go?”


“Do you?”


“You uh seem a little bothered. Maybe too much stimulation.”



He stared at her hotly until she began to fidget. “Stop.”


“Stop what?” He asked innocently.



“Looking at me like that. I’m not them, remember?” She put her hand on his face and turned his head towards the women stripping. “Direct that at them. Not me.”


He turned back to her. “Impossible.”



She furrowed her brow. “Why?”



“Because I’m not in love with any of them,” he blurted out.



He regretted it a second later when her eyes bugged out of her head and she looked as if she had to run far, far away. She stood

unsteadily and grabbed her purse.



“Buffy, wait, please.”



She smacked his hand away and quickly rushed away from him. He ran after her, finally catching up with her outside. “Buffy—“



“Are you crazy? What the hell are you thinking?” She screamed at him, spinning to face him. “How many have you had? You don’t go

around saying stuff like that—what is going on with you?”



“I’m not drunk. I’m not crazy although, you certainly make me feel that way. Especially when you’re being so bloody difficult!”


She pointed at herself, poking herself in the chest. “I’m difficult? Me? I’M DIFFICULT?”



“Yes! Do you know that I spent most of my high school existence trying to get your attention? All I got was your scalding hatred.”



“Well if you weren’t UP MY ASS all the time MAYBE you would’ve gotten more!”



“I wouldn’t have been UP YOUR ASS if you’d tried to at least be nice to me!”


“You wanted me to be nice to you? You dumped Jell-O in my hair the first day of school, you tried to scare my prom date away by

telling him you were my brother that just escaped from jail, you nearly had me killed when you got your license and I almost ended up meeting the business end of cow—no, tell me Spike, why SHOULD I have been nice to you? You did everything you could to drive me absolutely INSANE!”



He threw up his hands. “Don’t you see? Don’t you see that all of that was to try to get your attention?”



“Yeah, it got my attention Spike. I spent most of my high school existence and then at least half of my college life wanting to maim

you.”


“See? I grew on you. You only wanted to hurt me half of your college life.”



“Only because you went away to California for two years, remember?”



“Oh.”



“Yeah. Listen. Let’s just forget that you had that slip up in there and move on. You had a lot of stimulation tonight. You’re a guy;

you’re all about the visual. I’m a girl, I was . . . here. It’s normal. Lust maybe, but not love.”



He shook his head. “I can’t pretend anymore Buffy. I can’t. I love you. I always have and I always will.”



“What are you talking about you always have. You have NOT always have and you will not always WILL.”



He stepped forward, grabbing her by the waist and bringing her closer to him. “I have. I do. And I will.”



She pushed him away and shook her head. “I have a boyfriend. You just. . . “



“Just what?”



“You just want me because I’m with someone else!”



“The someone else you don’t love you mean?”



She glared at him, nearly spitting daggers from her eyes and she spun around and started off without him. Sprinting after her, Spike fell

in step beside her no matter how fast or how hard she tried to get rid of him.



“You can tell me you hate me all you want, but the fact is you don’t. You can’t deny that there’s heat between us, Buffy.”



She snorted. “You’re nuts.”



“You made me that way.”


She stopped and turned to him. “So what can I do to stop it?”



He shook his head, grinning at her almost sadly. “Nothing sweetheart. You’re stuck with me.”



“Lucky me,” she muttered and stalked off again.



The way back was wrought with silence although Spike could see her stealing glances at him every once in a while. Of course when he

looked at her, she turned away haughtily. He shook his head and sighed. She could be right difficult when she put her mind to it.



“I’ll be by at ten. Be ready,” she told him at her hotel room door before nearly slamming the door in his face.



Sighing heavily, Spike wondered how that possibly could have gone worse.







She’d overslept. She knew it the minute her eyes popped open and landed on Spike’s concerned blue ones.



“What time is it? How’d you get in my room?” She asked groggily as she struggled to sit up.



“It’s ten and there is a door that joins our rooms. I found the key and let myself in. You feeling all right?”



“Yeah, apparently my alarm didn’t go off. Shit. We have time. It’s all right. It doesn’t matter what I look like.” She crawled out of the

bed and looked around the room, lost for minute. “Okay, note book,” she picked up the notebook with all her notes she prepared for the

interview and thrust it at him. “Look this over while I shower. If you have any questions, then we’ll cover them on our way. Sound good?”



He nodded, “pet, you do you want me to order you something?”



“No time. Just read. I’ll be out in fifteen.”



She rushed into the bathroom and took a quick shower, dressing even quicker as she tried to make herself presentable with a tooth

brush stuck in her mouth. Rushing out of the bathroom to gather her things, she found Spike staring at her, slightly wide-eyed.



“What?”



He shook his head.



She shrugged and slid on her socks and shoes. She stood. “I’m ready. You ready? You have your coat?”



He pointed to the bed where it was draped.



“Okay, let’s go.”



“Did you go over the possible questions and the answers? I made a list of what to avoid answering and how to deflect certain

uncomfortable questions.” She took the notebook from him as they entered the elevator. She began flipping through the notebook.



“Okay, this one. The girlfriend question. You don’t have a girlfriend right now so it’s not a big deal—“



“And if I did?”



“Then you’d tell them that you wish to not discuss your personal life.”



“Is Cordy going to reassign you?”


She looked at him, puzzled. “Why would she do that?”



“Well, I assume that you can’t date a client. So when we start dating, does that mean that I’d have to find a new representative?”


She stared at him, floored. Her mind was still groggy and was unable to focus on more than one thing at a time. Switching gears at that

point was difficult and what he just said made her wonder if there was something about last night she’d missed.



“What?” She asked, dumbfounded.



“When we start dating—“



“Whoa, back that bus up. WHEN we start DATING?” She shook her head. “We’re not dating Spike. Did I say something that led you

to believe we would?”



“You don’t love Angel.”


“I don’t love you either.”



He appeared stung at that and she shrugged it off. “Who the hell do you think you are making decisions for me?”



He leaned in close. “I’m the guy that loves you. I’m also the guy you DO love.”



“Angel loves me too.”



“But you don’t love him. You love me.”



“Are you mentally challenged?”



He clucked his tongue in disapproval and shook his head.



“We’re not dating Spike. I don’t love you, you don’t love me. I have a boyfriend and I’m committed to making it work. I find it rather

scummy that you would try to get with someone that’s involved.”


“I’m not trying to ‘get with’ you, Buffy. I’m trying to love you and make you happy.”


“You want to make me happy?”



He nodded.



“Then just shut up and let me do my job. You do your job; I do my job and nothing else. Got it?”



He sighed and looked toward the elevator doors. “For now.”



“God, you’re just so –“She stopped when the elevator doors opened. “Annoying,” she hissed as they exited.



“And you’re not?” He asked her out loud.



She glared at him. “And you claim to love me. Ha!”



He glared back and she strode forward, ignoring him.



In the car, she refused to look at him. She stared out the window as she thought about them. Their life up until now. How he’d always

been this permanent fixture in her life that she just couldn’t seem to get rid of. He was always right there by her side. He seemed to do

everything he could to annoy her and yet he was always there to comfort her when she was down. Funny how she never focused on those

times very much.



“Remember when I didn’t get the part in The Tempest?” She blurted out suddenly, still not looking at him.



“You were devastated. Didn’t want to talk to anyone.”



“You found me at the library.”



“All the way in the back.”



“You brought a flask of tequila with you.”



“You were all wound up about getting caught, but you took some anyway.”



“You always seemed to be there when I didn’t even know I needed someone.”


“Sixth sense.”



She looked at him now, “is that what it is?”



He smiled, just a ghost of one and shook his head. “No. It’s love, pet. It’s because I love you.”



“When?”



“Been so long I can’t even remember when. Just always was.”



“Why? I’m horrible to you.”



“Sometimes, I deserve it. But you haven’t been that way to me always. Those times, like the one at the library . . . you weren’t awful to

me then. We talked, really talked and we didn’t argue once.”



She nodded slowly, looking down. She looked up at him then and gazed at him. He was watching her, wondering, she knew, what was

going on in her head. And as she stared at him, all those times when he had been there started coming at her playing like a movie in her mind.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she was in his arms and on his lap and they were kissing as if there was no tomorrow. He was

devouring her lips, moaning as he tried to practically pull her into himself.



“I love you, god, I love you so much,” he breathed when they parted for oxygen. He was on her in an instant and she wound her arms

around him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.



The limo screeching to a halt jolted her out of their passion. “Spike, we’re here,” she told him, breaking away.



He looked at her, his gaze full of lust and love. “I don’t care. Cancel it. I’ve got my girl in my arms; I don’t care about a bloody

interview.”



“Spike, we can’t do that,” she crawled off his lap and flung the door open, crawling out. He followed suit a moment later and

immediately grabbed for her, pulling her against him and nuzzling her neck.



“Spike . . . stop. You’re making a scene.”



“So then let’s make a scene. I don’t care. You’re my girl and I don’t care who knows it.”



“Interview,” she told him firmly and pushed at him, righting her clothes.



He sighed and grabbed her hand. “Can I at least do this?”



She shook her head, “that’ll lead to questions. Professional, Spike, okay?”



He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “You’re bloody impossible you know that? Got my motor all revved and ready—“


“You’ll live. Let’s go.”
 

Chapter 5:

The interview went by without a hitch and Buffy, for one, was relieved that hurdle was over. They had one more later that day and Buffy was hoping for a nap before it came. Her mind was clouded and fuzzy—partly because of her serious make out session with Spike in the limo. What kind of vapid ho was she? No matter if she was in love with Angel or not, she still respected him. Guilt. She felt guilt. And anger. Anger at Spike for making her remember the good times, for making her FEEL period.
She had a throbbing headache and she was finding it hard to focus on anything. Job hazard to be sure. As Spike chatted with a photographer and she chatted with the interviewer, she was offered water, which she proceeded to down in one long gulp. She was nearly gasping for air when she was done. Erin--?—stared at her in surprise.
“Thirsty, pet?” Spike asked, and she looked over to see him standing next to her all of a sudden.
“Yeah,” she said lamely and tried unsuccessfully to crack her neck. Was it her or was the room hot? She felt suffocated suddenly.
“Pet, you all right?”
She ignored him and asked Erin “got a bathroom?”
“Down the hall.”
“Thanks,” and she strolled off.
In the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror. Spike made out with her why? She looked like shit! She looked exhausted with the dark circles and tired eyelids. Her hair was pulled back and nearly falling out in strands. She looked disgusting to herself. She needed food, Tylenol, a nap and another shower. All in that order. Trying to put her hair back into some kind of order and trying to make herself look somewhat presentable, she started on her way out when she slammed her foot into the corner of the counter. She gritted her teeth, trying not to give into the temptation to scream in pain. Limping out of the bathroom, she decided she just wanted to die.
“Pet, what’d you do? Why are you limping?”
She looked up to see Spike in front of her all concerned and gentle and she felt like the biggest shit because all she could think of was Angel and how she cheated on him.
“I’m fine, I just. . . I’m a klutz.”
“Can you walk all right?”
“I just need to walk it off,” she told him and started on her way.
“You hung?”
She frowned, “I never get hung over. I think I just need some sleep. And food. And something for my head.”
Taking her hand in his, Spike started leading her to the door. She stopped and pulled her hand out of his grasp. He looked at her in surprise.
“I can walk fine Spike. I don’t need you to hold my hand through it.”
He was clenching his jaw. “That it then?”
She let out a loud sigh, “don’t start. I’m not in the mood.”
“Knew we never should have stopped for the interview,” he muttered.
“Yeah, I should have continued my cheating on my boyfriend,” she told him sarcastically.
“You don’t love him.”
She threw up her arms, “that’s not the point!”
“It’s the whole point, Buffy. You don’t love him. You love me.”
“Would you stop saying that?” She hissed at him and stormed off. At that point, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. She just wanted him to leave her alone and stop muddling her thoughts. The limo was waiting for them outside and she spun to Spike.
“Limo’s here. It’ll take you back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Taking a cab.”
“Buffy—“
“I’ll see you later.”
He grabbed her arm. “Do you have money on you?”

She stopped. Did she? Fuck.
“Great. You see? You see how you mess up all my plans?” She yelled at him.
“How am I messing up your plan to take a taxi? You’re the one without any money. You want money? I have some; by all means let me give you some, consider it thanks for snogging with me in the limo earlier!”
Furious, for being made to feel even worse about herself for making out with him and cheating on Angel, she saw red and hauled off and punched him. Her eyes went wide as Spike shouted and grabbed his nose.
“You bitch!” He yelled.
Her hands flew to her mouth in shock of what she’d just done. Then she saw the blood. “Oh my god! Spike I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to punch you. Let me see—“
“Get away from me you stupid bint,” he growled at her. “I’m taking the fucking cab!”
“Fine! Take it!” She screamed at him and stomped away and into the limo. She watched him hail a cab whilst keeping a hand on his bleeding nose. God, she hoped it wasn’t broken. That would not bode well. Not at all. Especially with an interview later, and oh god, what if someone had seen them? She sunk into the seat just as the limo pulled out. She turned to see Spike getting into a cab. She sighed and sat down while her cell phone went off. Message.
She opened it and read her text: ‘Miss you. Angel.’ She suddenly didn’t feel so guilty about clocking Spike’s nose. Guilty, but not AS guilty. Angel missed her and she’d admitted to Spike she didn’t love him. Then she’d gone and kissed Spike. Surely the punch made up for that right? She sunk lower into the seat and just wished the weekend would be over and soon.
When she arrived at the building, Spike was pulling in just behind her. She had to bite back her pride and go over to him. He seemed a bit calmer, but still glared at her.
“Come to finish the job?”
She took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m sorry that I punched you—“
“Are you really?”
She glared at him, “it’s a sliding scale.”
He glared at her.
“Can I see what the damage is please?”
He moved his hands away and she gasped. “Spike, is it broken?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Do you want it to be?”
“It’s not broken. I just need some ice.”
“Let me help you.”
“Thought you wanted me to leave you alone.”
“I just want to help; can you not make it a thing?” She sighed.
“Fine,” he relented and they made their way to the hotel desk to find out if they could get some assistance on ice packs. They sat in the lobby and waited while Buffy tried to get him to show her more of his nose.
“Spike, it’s all red and swollen. I’m going to cancel the interview.”
“Buffy, no, why?”
“Because your nose looks horrible and you don’t want them asking questions.”
“It’s their job.”
“I know smart ass.”
“I’ll just tell them that. . . that I got into a fight with a guy because he was harassing a young lady and he didn’t like what I said. Come on, isn’t all that lying and extolling my virtues right up your alley?”
She was trying not to grin. “Spike, I don’t know.”
“Don’t fret your pretty little head about it. I have an interview and I intend to go. Just because my publicist is violent is no reason the show mustn’t go on.”
“Oh shut up. I wouldn’t be so violent if you didn’t know when to shut your trap.”
They fell into silence and some time passed before Spike spoke.
“I still love you, you know. If you thought punching me could stop that, you were wrong,” he told her softly.
“Spike,” she started.
“No, don’t say anything. Can’t you just believe me when I say it and let that be enough for now?”
“Why now Spike? Why didn’t you ever tell me before?”
“It was never the right time.”
“And it was the right time when I’m involved with someone? It wasn’t fair to spring something like that on me like that.”
“Then you tell me when a good time would have been.”
“Maybe when you started having the feelings?”
“In high school? You wanted me to tell you then?”
“I don’t know! All I know is that you tell me you love me and that you expect us to be dating and that I love you. . . you can’t make those decisions for me.”
“You’re right.”
“Then why are you?”
He looked at her, a bit sheepish. “I was trying to convince you. I thought if I told you enough, you’d believe it.”
“You’re kind of twisted.”
“Can’t help it. Comes with wanting you since high school. You drive me crazy you know? Always have and probably always will,” he muttered as he hung his head.
She stared at him, feeling guilty for hurting Spike, for kissing him and essentially cheating on Angel, for enjoying the kiss and wanting more, for leading Spike on, for punching him. . . the list went on and on.
She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home and just hide. She didn’t want to be here anymore, she didn’t want to deal with any of it anymore. When the attendant finally came and handed them the ice packs, the silently made their way back to their rooms.
“You going to take a nap pet?”
She nodded mutely, feeling exhaustion creep into her bones.
“Are you all right?”
She shook her head, her lower lip beginning to quiver.
Spike stopped her and grabbed her arm, turning her so she’d look at him. “What is it kitten?”
“Just. . . everything. I feel like I’ve packed a week in two days. I’m over tired and emotional and I punched you and I just. . .”
“What baby?”
“I want to go home!” She cried.
His eyes narrowed slightly, “you miss Angel that much?”
She threw up her arms in exasperation. “Why do you automatically think that everything has to do with him?”
“Well it does, doesn’t it?”
“No actually it doesn’t. As a matter of fact this weekend has been all about you, you conceited jerk! Do you realize that you are the only person I know that can single-handedly turn my life completely upside down? You’ve been doing it since I met you!”
He slowly broke out into a smile, “it’s only fair I wager. You turned my life upside down and have since I met you. You think you don’t drive me completely nuts? Do you know what it’s like to love you and have to watch you with Angel or any of the other blokes you’ve dated? Or how it feels to love you and have you hate me? Why do you think I chose you to represent me luv? Not just because I knew you’d do a fantastic job but also because that way, I’d have you to myself. Some part of you would be all mine. It was better than watching you from a far and never getting a chance to be near you.”
She gasped at his declaration; let it wash over her. “You love me,” she finally managed. No one had ever said such beautiful words to her. No one.
He grinned, reached out and tucked some hair behind her ear. “Yes luv. You just figuring that out?”
“I. . . I. . . need a nap,” she said, though not moving. . Her heart was swelling inside her chest and she felt the incredible urge to kiss him. What the hell was he doing to her sense? How in the world did he always manage to take reason and accountability and fling it out the door? He made her such a mess!

“Go on then luv. Get your nap,” he gestured toward the door.
She nodded and before she could change her mind and fling herself back in his arms, she unlocked the door and practically ran in.

Chapter 6:

She had to admit, she felt better. Not a hundred percent, but that would come when she finally got home. She'd taken a hot bath, read some of her book to take her mind off Spike thoughts, taken some much needed aspirin, ate, and napped. Glancing at the adjoining door to Spike's room, she searched around for a key, finally finding one on the windowsill. She heard the TV running and entered, calling out his name.
No answer. She opened her mouth to call for him again when she heard a moan. She stopped in her tracks and strained to hear. Yep, definitely a moan and definitely Spike. She moved closer to the bathroom and found the door slightly open. Spike was in the shower.

"Oh God, Buffy. Buffy. . ." he moaned.
Her jaw dropped to the ground. Was he? Oh my god, he was. Half of her wanted to actually see it, while the other
half wanted to run. She took the middle ground, on auto pilot,
and stood from the door, but peered in. She could see his
movements behind the barely concealing shower curtain. He
was masturbating! To her name.

"Baby, I'm gonna cum. . . oh Buffy!" His voice rang out and
she stood there, transfixed, noticing his whole body tremble.
He was cumming. Oh. My. God. She just stood there in
shock, not even seeing anything, not even being able to think
anything. When she heard the swoosh of the shower
curtain, she sprang into action and flew out of the room,
praying and hoping he hadn't seen her. Her mouth was dry,
her heart was racing and she felt herself trembling.

Holding onto the wall and trying to get herself under control,
she nearly had a heart attack when Spike came strolling in a
second later.

"Buffy? Were you looking for me?"

She jumped away from the wall and found she couldn't look
at him. "Uh, yeah. I found the key. I heard the shower running
so I came back in here to wait. I should have closed the door,
I'm looking for my notes, have you seen them? Did I give them
to you? I swear I'm so scattered sometimes. Honestly, I don't
know why you want such a ditz handling your PR, maybe
you should consider--

He put a hand over her mouth gently, stopping her rambling.
The hands that—she let out a squeek and jumped away from
him.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Caffeine. Makes me jumpy. I should really cut back."

"So, watching me jack off to your name had nothing to do
with it?" He asked, his voice dropping to a husky timbre.

Her jaw dropped to the floor, she was sure, and if her eyes
got any wider, her eyeballs would surely roll out of her head.
Her face felt as if it had been subjected to heavy amounts of
steam, as if she'd stuck her head over boiling water.

He walked slowly to her, a predatory smile on his face. "Find
it hot that I jack off to you?"

She blinked at him.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He whispered.

"Uhh…I think so?"

"You think so? Would you like me to show you?" he asked,
nuzzling her cheek, inhaling her scent.

When exactly had her knees decided to leave her? She felt
weak and found it hard to stand all of a sudden. It was a
good thing then that Spike was there to take her in his arms
and steady her.

"Tell me it made you hot. Tell me you love knowing you have
that power over me. You love knowing it's you, don't you?"
He pulled back enough to look her directly in the eyes, his
cerulean eyes almost navy with lust. She could feel his
breath on her, noting they were so close, their breath was
mingled. "You're all I bloody think about," he whispered,
grazing her lips with his own. "Tell me you want me to kiss
you."

She let out a whimper, her self control snapping to shreds.
His body heat was sinking into her skin and her lids were
closing. She felt drugged.

"Tell me. . . " he urged. "Please," now he was begging. "God if you don't let me kiss you, I think I'll go insane. . . "
The shrill sound of the phone ringing caused Buffy to come out of her Spike induced haze and snap back to reality. Her lids popped open and she drew in a steadying breath and took a step back. The need and want on Spike's face was
plainly written for her to see. She could see his silent plea
with her to forget the phone while, a resignation was
beginning to dawn on his gorgeous features. Whoa.
Gorgeous?

Spinning around and lunging for the phone, she let out a
weak "Hello?"

"This is your five o' clock reminder. . . " When in the world
had she asked for that? Oh yeah. Before she'd taken her
nap.

"Thank you," she cut the nice man off. She placed the phone
back in its cradle. "Time to go," she announced without
turning around. She started gathering her things. "There
should be a car waiting for us downstairs. Grab your coat
and we should be all set to go. I'll brief you in the car. . ." She
turned then and found Spike already at the door, said door
wide open. He had his duster on and he bore a look of
frustration.

She stared at him, questioning.

"Let's go then," he nearly barked at her and started down
the hall.

Looking up at the ceiling, Buffy prayed for help.



Buffy wanted the Earth to open up and swallow her hole.
How had she missed that the Harmony that was giving the
interview was the same Harmony that Spike had briefly dated
in high school? The Harmony that dotted her I's with hearts
and spoke with a whine to her voice and was possibly the
single most annoying creature on the face of the planet. She
remembered that the mutual friends they'd run with had
distanced themselves quite a bit when Spike had started
dating her. In fact, many times they'd all dispersed like flies
when Spike would bring her round. Buffy was sure it was
that fact alone that had caused Spike to eventually break
things off with the clingy pain in the ass. Why he wouldn't
have done it simply because she was an irritating air head was beyond Buffy. And now, now she was being subjected
to watching Harmony giggle and make cow eyes at Spike,
while Spike grinned and flirted mercilessly. And what was
even more infuriating than having to listen to Harmony and
watch as she touched Spike whenever the chance
presented itself, was that it wasn't just that Buffy found
Harmony a poor excuse for a so-called business woman, it
was that she was JEALOUS. This was the guy who'd
claimed to love her and he was acting as if he'd agree to any
proposition Harmony would surely come up with at any time.

The ugly word hung over Buffy like a dark cloud. Jealous.
She. Was. Jealous. She tried talking herself out of it, tried
convincing herself that she was merely jealous that Harmony
was working for a successful magazine whilst having no
brain power whatsoever while Buffy had had to work hard
for her position at her PR firm. Harmony probably just had to
blow some editor in chief for her position. She wasn't even
asking any questions! She was flirting shamelessly and
reminiscing about high school rather than asking the hard-
hitting questions.

Clapping her hands together, Buffy caught the attention of
Spike and Harmony. She leaned forward with a fake smile
plastered on her face.

"Spike, why don't you tell Harmony about your book?"

Harmony giggled, "Sorry Spikey. Looks like Bitsy wants to
get down to work. You know what they say Bitsy. All work
and no play makes—"


"Bitsy?" Buffy cut her off. She shook her head, sliding off
the stool she'd been perched on. "So," she started, letting out
a bitter chuckle, "this must be the seventh ring of hell."

Spike and Harmony opened their mouths to speak, but Buffy
held up her hands and stopped them. "Please. I'm fine. I can't
even tell you how done I am right now.

You two catch up, reminisce, chat…Have sex for all I care.
Me? I'm going home. It's all I've wanted to do for the past
twenty-four hours and I'm a little tired of waiting. You kids
have a good night."

She nearly flew out of the office and down the hall. She
banged her head against the elevator door and willed Spike
to fall out of her mind. As soon as she walked out onto the
street and the damp New York air hit her in the face, Buffy let
out a cleansing breath. She let their car know that Spike
would be down at some point and she told him she was
going to hail a cab. She'd put one foot down on the street and
had started to raise her hand to hail one, when a strong hand
clamped down on her arm and pulled her back on the curb.
She came face to face with a less than thrilled Spike.

"You're not going anywhere, Goldilocks," he growled. "I think
it's about time we had ourselves a nice long chat." And then
he slammed his lips against hers.

 

Chapter 7:

She pushed at him forcefully. "That's not talking."

"Told you I'd go insane if you didn't kiss me," he told her breathlessly.

"So that's what that was all about?" she asked, gesturing to the entrance of
the building they'd just come from.

"What, what was all about?" he asked, slightly smirking. He would have
been able to pull off the innocent act were it not for that smirk.

She glared at him and stormed off. He grabbed her arm. "I told you, we're
talking."

"Talking? We don't talk Spike, we argue and yell and scream, but we don't
talk."

"Not true and you know it. You just like to think that to make yourself feel
better. You hide behind it, erecting those walls because you're afraid to let
me in."

"Oh please, enlighten me Obi Wan. Why would I ever be afraid to let YOU
in?" She asked him sarcastically.

He moved closer, so they were nearly touching.

"Because you love me and it scares the shit out of you," he growled. "Why
else do you think you don't love Angel? Because it's me, baby, it's always
been me."

"You're really full of yourself," she hissed.

"It's inevitable Buffy," his voice soothing and soft now. He trailed a finger
up and down her arm and started to leave small kisses along her jaw. "Does
Angel make you melt the way I do?"

Harmony floated in Buffy's rapidly muddled mind and she shoved at him.
He looked stunned by the gesture. The heavens opened up then and rain
came pelting down on them. Rumbling was heard in the distance.

"You claim to love me and yet you flirt shamelessly with Harmony. You
don't love me, you love your ego. You just want it be stroked that much
more by getting me, the unattainable."

Spike threw his hands up in the air. "I was trying to make you jealous, you
daft bint! Do you think I care a lick about that ditz in there?"

"You dated her!"

"In fucking high school!"

"You still dated her!" She screamed.

"When are you going to stop clinging to everything that happened in
fucking high school and see me as I am now Buffy? I've changed; you just
refuse to see it because it makes you feel safer to think I haven't!"

"You've changed? I don't thinks so. You're still the only one I know that
can drive me completely insane!"

"Why do you think that is huh?" He pressed, moving up against her once
again. "Could it possibly be because we have heat and passion—"

"That stuff never lasts. It burns out eventually."

Spike shook his head. "Not like our heat Buffy. No one can make me burn
like you do. Trust me, I've tried. You're the match to my gasoline."

"You're rude and demanding, you have to possibly be the most persistent
person I've ever met in my life—" Buffy started on her tirade.

"Not true. You're pretty persistent too. You're so determined to get what
you want; you don't stop until you get it. Why can't I be on that list of
things you want?" He cocked his head to the side, a tender soft expression
on his handsome face. Buffy was trying to ignore it. Trying to ignore that
she'd seen that look many times if she dared admit it.

"You're not safe," she told him honestly.

"You think I'd hurt you?"

"Oh yes. I think you would. I don't trust you," she whispered.

"I'd never hurt you," he told her fiercely. "Just let yourself go. Let yourself
love me," his words now fell on a pleading whisper.

"I-I don't l-love you," she stammered, her teeth now chattering with rain
pouring down on them.

"Let's get you inside, all right pet? Don't need my girl getting sickly on me."
Wrapping an arm around her, he guided her to the waiting car and ushered
her in. "Get you warm and all snuggled in your beddy by," he murmured
as he started to strip off her soaking jacket that was clinging to her body
like a second skin.

Buffy let her head fall back against the seat and she closed her eyes. She
felt completely drained. She felt as if she were on emotional overload.
Never in her life had she felt as if she'd run a gamut of emotions in such a
short span of time. Sadness, worry, lust, jealousy, anger and shock. All
packed in two days, all intense. She felt his hand caressing the side of her
face and popped an eye open to look up at him. He smiled sweetly at her
and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I want to go home," she murmured on a whine.

"Soon enough, kitten, soon enough."

She rolled her head to look out the window. "No, not soon enough. Friday
night would have been soon enough."

"Now now, kitten. I know you had a good time traipsing all over New York
with me," he said calmly as he rubbed up and down her arm.

Buffy didn't respond. Instead she let the soothing motion of his hands on
her and the movement of the car lull her to sleep.



Buffy's eyes popped open and she found herself staring into blackness.
Where was she? Oh yeah. The hotel room. Bitterly disappointed that she
wasn't in her own room and that she hadn't dreamt the whole godforsaken
weekend, she rolled over to her side and found the clock radio glaring red at
her. Three a. m. She furrowed her brow. How did she end up in her bed
from the car? Spike. He must have carried her. She must really have been
exhausted to sleep through that. She took note that her clothes were all in
tact, the only article taken off were her shoes. Rolling on her back again,
she stared up at the ceiling.



FLASHBACK



"Uh, I'm sorry Buffy. I gotta cancel our date tonight."

Buffy looked up, crushed, at Owen as he stood there shifting from foot to
foot. She felt herself deflate. She'd had a crush on Owen since fifth grade
and he'd finally taken notice of her and asked her out. She'd been looking
forward to their date for a week. She'd been shopping, spending her hard
earned money from her retail job, to buy a new outfit for the night. She'd
commiserated over the phone with her best friend all about the date. And
now he was canceling? On the night of the date no less!

"Why?" she asked, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

"I uh, have stuff to do. I got a project due Monday and I promised my
parents I'd stay in and work on it."

"On a Friday night? All night? You have the whole weekend." Okay Buffy,
stop sounding so desperate.

"Sorry," and he shuffled away, joining his friends. They started to laugh
and Owen seemed to be shushing them just as they walked away. Now she
was suspicious. Was she a joke? A laughing stock? Was she now the butt of
everyone's jokes? And why? Sure she wasn't among the ‘popular' crowd,
but she had a lot of friends and never got any slack from anyone.

Xander came running up to her, out of breath a minute later. He was
gesturing wildly at her as he tried to catch his breath.

"Should we do charades?" Buffy joked. "Sounds like?"

"Did Owen just cancel your date?"

Buffy's grin faded, "yeah."

"I know why."

"Oh?"

"I was walking past them and his friends were teasing him—"

"Why? Am I rancid or something?"

"No! God, of course not Buffy! I uh, think someone planted a bug in Owen's
ear."

"About?"

"You having female AND male parts."

Buffy's jaw dropped and it was at that moment she caught sight of Spike,
sauntering across the quad, a smirk on his face. He looked over at her and
waved before continuing on.

"Where would he get an idea like that Buffy?" Xander asked.

Buffy glared at Spike's retreating form. "I think I have an idea."



END FLASHBACK



"Buffy what are you doing?" Spike asked, trying to focus in the darkened
room. He'd awoken to Buffy, standing at the foot of his bed, staring down at
him.

"You told Owen I had a penis didn't you?" she demanded.

Spike blinked at her. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was 3:30 a.m. He
flicked the light on and leaned up on his elbows. "You woke up thinking of
that?"

"Did you?"

He nodded, "I did."

"Did you know that I'd had a crush on him since the fifth grade? Do you
know how incredible it feels to have the boy of your dreams ask you out
after you've been crushing on them for five years?"

"Well, if it's anything like being in love with you since sophomore year of
high school and never being able to be close to you, I think I have an idea."

She folded her arms across her chest, appearing unmoved by his
declaration. "He could have been the one. He could have been the one and
you ruined it for me. What's worse? You didn't even fess up when I asked
you about it. Instead, you made it off as someone else spread the ugly
rumor."

Spike crawled out of bed, chuckling as she averted her eyes from his naked
form. He slipped on a pair of boxers. "Well, couldn't have you finding out I
had something to do with it, Goldilocks. Sides, as far as him being the one?
He very well could be if you did have a penis."

"Huh?"

"I ran into wonder boy in San Francisco while I was out in California. He's
gay, Buffy."

She faltered. "Really?"

Spike nodded, grinning at her stunned expression. "That what got you up
at this hour? Wondering if I told Owen you had a penis?"

She fidgeted, seeming to suddenly realize how ridiculous that was. "Well.
Yeah." She paused, "among other things," she muttered.

"Oh? What sorts of other things?"

He wasn't sure if she realized her gaze immediately darted to his crotch.
He felt it rise at the unspoken admission.

"Why pet, you have a naughty side to you, don't you?"

She was beet red now. She started for the door and then stopped. She
turned to him, a determined expression on her beautiful face. It was the
same face she had when she ran for Class President, started a fundraiser
for the homeless Senior Year, and was elected Valedictorian in their
graduating class.

"I've come to a conclusion."

"Oh?" he was intrigued by this.

"I do want you," she stated matter of factly.

His penis swelled to full size at those words. "And?" he asked throatily.

"I've decided that we should have sex."
 

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