Chapter 8:

It was Spike's turn to be speechless. He'd done it to her so many times over the past couple days, he supposed it was only fair. He kept trying to say something, but the words seemed trapped in his throat. And all Buffy could do was stand there and watch him, clearly amused. In a clinical sort of way. As if she had made an hypothesis and was watching the outcome.

Her head cocked to the side watched him. "Now you get to impersonate a guppy. I'm impressed, I have to say. Didn't think I could actually render you speechless."

"Did you mean it?" He finally managed. "Did you mean it or were you just trying to make me speechless?"

"Oh, I meant it."

"You think we should make love."

She shook her head, a small grin turning the corners of her mouth. "Not
‘make love'. Sex. Just sex."

Spike was finally starting to regain thought. He nodded slowly. "Sex. Just
sex."

"Right. You get what you want, I get what I want and it's done."

"I have a feeling that what I want and what you want is different here.
Why don'tyou explain it to me?"

"Well, I figured it'd be pretty easy to understand. You always said you
were a simple man. Why don't you figure it out?"

"Right, so, how well do I know Buffy Summers? Pretty well, I think. So let me wager a guess on what you're thinking. You think that I ultimately want your body, because that is, according to your warped thought process, all I want in the first place right?"

"Right. And because I'm unattainable to you, it strokes your ego that you
‘got' me for a night."

"And then, there's you." He smirked and walked towards her, started
circling her as she stood ramrod straight. "You want me," he leaned in and
whispered huskily in her ear, smiling at the shiver he saw go through her.
He pulled back. "You figure if you have ‘just sex' with me that will sate your
desire." He stood in front of her. "How'd I do?"

"Excellent."

"Except that it won't. Sate you that is. You'll want more."

She sneered at him. "Don't flatter yourself."

"The simple fact that you're standing here right now offering this to me is
flattery enough. I didn't know robots could feel."

"Funny, I didn't know pompous, arrogant assholes could either. I guess
that makes us even," she snarked back without missing a beat.

He put a hand over his chest. "I'm wounded luv. That hurt." His smirk
spoke otherwise.

"I'm sure."

"And Angel?"

"This is. . . think of it as a science project. If my calculations are right,
which they usually are, we'll walk away from this satisfied and ready to go
on with our lives. I will of course have to ask Cordy to reassign you to
someone else. I feel that as soon as we have sex, I will be able to engage in
my relationship with Angel freer than I am now."

"No."

She faltered, "What?"

"No. I won't have sex with you Buffy. I don't want to have sex with you. I
want to make love to you."

"Please. You're a guy. Next you're gonna tell me you like to cuddle."

"I DO like to cuddle," he told her, leaning in close.

"Fine. I'll have sex. You can make love. Satisfied?"

"Nope. I want you Buffy. I want you so much I can barely see straight half
the time, but the reason I want you so much—aside from that luscious
body—is because I'm in love with you. I've never loved any of the girls I've
had sex with Buffy. It's always been about you, pet. I couldn't give myself
to anyone else but you. So I know that when I finally do make love with
you, it's going to be amazing. Just holding you in my arms and kissing you is
better than any hug or kiss I've ever had with anyone. Because it's you.
And, in order for us to make love, I need you there with me. I need you making love to me too. I won't settle for anything less."

She walked away from him and he followed her. "Do you ever get told no, pet?"

She spun to him. "Yes, as a matter of fact I have. I don't like it."

"How ever are you going to handle it?"

She smirked saucily at him and opened her mouth to say something then
clamped it shut. She straightened and then shrugged, letting out a sigh.

"Normally I would say I would just have to try harder, but I guess in this instance I can't. I'll just have to accept it. It's not like I'm starved for sex anyway. I know Angel has missed me and will probably ravish—"

Spike let out a growl of frustration and hauled her up against him, devouring her mouth with his. He dove his hands in her hair as he nibbled, sucked and made love to her with his mouth. He could feel her hardened nipples through her cami brushing against his hard chest and it spurred him on. He pulled back, letting them catch their breath.

"You're mine," he told her through clenched teeth. "You think after I've had a taste of you I'm just going to let you go? I'm going to be around so much, all you're ever going to see with those beautiful eyes is me. All you'll hear is me. All you'll want. Is. Me. But you don't have to worry baby, because I'll be right there with you. Everywhere I go, everything I do. . . it's all about you." Unwinding one hand, he let it trail down her cheek, her neck, her collarbone and then he cupped her breast in his hand, flicking his thumb across her nipple, making it harder, making it beg for his attention.
Her eyes were half mass as she gazed into his stormy blue eyes. Leaning in he swept his tongue along the bottom of her lip before claiming her mouth once more. He pulled her closer against him and let her feel how aroused he was. They were a perfect fit, he nestled himself right between her legs and he caught a whiff of her arousal. He wanted nothing more than spread her out on the bed and taste her moist center and then make love to her. He couldn't though. She admitted she wanted him, but that wasn't enough. He wanted her love and he wasn't going to stop until he got it.

"Don't you dare touch him, Buffy," he whispered against her lips. "If you touch him at all with the intent of having SEX with him, I'll tell Cordy you punched me. Do you understand me?"

Her shove was his answer.

She glared at him, chest heaving. "You wouldn't."

"Touch him and find out."

"I hate you. Get out of my room."

Trying not to let her words sting him, he held up his hands in surrender and walked back to his room, trying not let his knees buckle under him. He shut the door firmly behind him and closed his eyes. "Good job Spike."


 

Chapter 9:

Spike opened his eyes slowly, taking the time to stretch. He'd had a hard time going to back to sleep last night after he and Buffy had it out. Again. He grinned to himself. At least she'd admitted that she wanted him. It was better than ignoring the fact that he was a man at all. He sat up, lighting a cigarette and mulling over events from the night before. He chuckled to himself as he remembered her demanding to know if he'd made up that lie to Owen.

Of course he had.

How else would he have kept the wuss away from his girl? He knew she would have eventually figured it out; it wasn't as if he was exactly trying to hide it from her. He just wanted her to ask him why. If she had asked him, he would have told her it was because Owen – along with all the other schmucks she dated – were not worthy of her. They were peons and she was a Goddess. And all he wanted was to be with her, to be counted worthy by her. To have her love.

He supposed in some circles denying her ‘sex' was an outrageous mistake. The thing was though, Spike had sex before. He'd never made love though. He had an inkling that Buffy never had either. He wanted her all right, but he wanted every part of her. He wanted her ire, her sadness, her courage, her wit, her intelligence. Most off all, he wanted her love. He always felt the sparks when they were around each other. They crackled and sizzled and lit up the air around them. How she had managed not to see it after all these years was beyond him.

But, she was now. She was starting to anyway. He was burrowing under her skin in the most delicious way and he wasn't going to stop until her reached her heart and nestled there. It was only fair. She'd nestled her way in a long time ago and she hadn't ever left. And, he didn't want her to.

Buffy sat on the edge of her hotel bed, fuming. Her leg was bouncing up and down as her heel repeatedly tapped the floor beneath her. She shot a glare to the adjoining door. He'd tell Cordy if she had sex with Angel. . . please! He wouldn't. . . would he? She rolled her eyes. She actually wouldn't put it past him. The man had told Owen she was a hermaphrodite for crying out loud! And that was lying! Unfortunately, he did have the evidence to prove she'd punched him. She could lie about it . . . how pointless was that? The first words out of her mouth when he'd been assigned to her were that she'd kill him. Cordy would believe him in a heartbeat. Then she'd be fired, banned from working as a publicist for the rest of her life no doubt.

"Arrghh!" Buffy growled. "Damn you Spike Marsters. Damn you and your snarky mouth and your witty comebacks and . . . " and your smile and your kiss and the way you make my body sing. . . "God, what has he done to me? I've turned into a horn ball. What's worse? I can't do anything to fix it. He just had to go on about ‘making love'. Why can't he just want sex like every other man in the world?"

She stared at the door, waiting for answer. He SEEMED like such a typical man. And yet, there was something about Spike that just wasn't. His refusal of sake for the sake of love. Who would have guessed! She thought she'd had the perfect plan. She didn't even think she would have to seduce him—Wait. Seduce him. He'd already plainly shown her how crazy he was for her touch. Hadn't he said he'd go crazy if he didn't kiss her? She thought she could make him jealous and spur him to have sex with her that way. Mark his territory and all that crap. But no. She was going about it the wrong way. She just had to seduce him. Seduce him until he was putty in her hands.

Unbeknownst to Spike, he'd thrown the gauntlet down last night when he'd refused her. Now, she not only wanted to have sex with him to free him from her system, but she wanted to prove that she could make him cave.

And by God, she would.



"Spike, do you have any more shampoo? I've run out."

Spike looked up from packing his suitcase and promptly dropped his jaw. Buffy, Golden Goddess Buffy Summers was standing innocently in his room by his bed in nothing but a fluffy white towel wrapped around her exquisite body. His hands were itching to touch that expanse of skin at her collarbone and run his tongue along the bone. He wanted to see if he sucked on her neck, just right, she'd moan for him. He ached to see if her legs were as silky smooth as they appeared. His mouth dry, he could only stare, frozen.

She gave him a funny look. "Right. I'll just check myself," and off she went into his bathroom. He followed.

"Goldilocks, what are you doing?"

"Told you. Getting shampoo. Have any?"

"Yeah, I. . . Yeah. I have some in my bag, I used up. . . why are you in my
room in a towel?"

"I was about to start my shower and realized I ran out. I figured you
wouldn't mind."

He raked his eyes up and down her form. "Anytime, luv."

"Thanks!" she said brightly and started for the door. Turning back around,
she sidled up to him, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Too bad you didn't want me last night. We could have shared a shower this morning. . . " She glided a finger up his bare arm and across his chest, grazing his nipples as she spoke. "Our wet, naked, grinding, writing bodies against the slick shower wall." She sucked on her bottom lip and moaned. "Hmm…makes me so wet just thinking about it."

Spike was having a hell of a time reigning in his raging libido. His stomach clenched and fluttered, his head dizzy with her sweet fragrance . . . she was going to kill him. Looking down at her it hit him that that was just what she had in mind. So, kitten wanted to play huh? Thought she could seduce him into having sex with her. Well, two could play that game.

Leaning forward, he took an earlobe in his mouth and nibbled on it, taking delight in the gasp that escaped her lips. Reaching down, he played with the hem of the towel and soothed circles in her thighs. Then, he put his mouth where he'd been itching to put it since she'd walked in and to his pleasure, she did moan. A deep throaty moan that left him wanting more.

Yet, he couldn't. This was play time.

"I'd love to have your gorgeous body against mine, making me hard, making me ache. To have you wrapped around me as I drove into your wet pussy . . . feel you cum all around me . . . squeeze me . . . "

She was panting lightly, and he knew she didn't realize it. "I could take you right there, against that wall and make you scream my name . . . make you beg for more . . . You would know what I meant when I said I love you by the time I was done." He pulled back, took in her eyes half massed with desire as she looked up at him, the want plainly written on her face.

"Buffy," he whispered.

"Mmmm?"

"Don't you wish I would?"

Her eyes snapped open and she shoved him. Again. He laughed as he heard
the door slam and then groaned when he realized his soldier had indeed risen to the occasion and was again left wanting. Yep, time for another session with Palmela.



 

Chapter 10:

If Buffy could have, she would have taken off to the airport without him. Her pride was bruised and the last thing she wanted to do was be around the man who'd rejected her. The man who claimed to love her, rejected her.
However, Buffy was a fighter, resilient if anything else and she would not back down. No, instead she'd hold her head high. And completely ignore him. She rolled her eyes as she started to walk down the hall to the elevator, suitcase in hand. She hated how childish he made her. She was an adult dammit!

She just needed to regroup, that's all. She'd get him. If it was the last thing she did, she'd get him.

"Buffy, wait up!"

She turned to see Spike jogging down the hall to catch up with her. She felt
something inside her melt as she watched him. He looked like such a little
boy running to her at that moment. He was without the trademark black
that he used to make up his ‘image', he was without the duster she'd added
to his ‘image' and without his slicked back hair. Instead, he wore blue jeans,
a blue t shirt that brought out his eyes – she could see them from where
she stood, they were so vibrant – and his hair was springy with curls. She
had a brief image pop in her mind of waking up next to those springy curls.

If only he'd let her.

"You going to get the door? Or do you want to wait for the next one?"

Huh? She flipped her head to the elevator and immediately jutted her arm
out to catch the closing door. He helped her jar it open and in they went.

He was smirking as if he knew she had been caught up in staring at him. He knew. He had to know. God, she wanted to hit him again. ‘I hate him, I hate him, I hate him,' she kept saying to herself over and over.

"So the plan is to not talk to me then?"

"You know what; I just need a break okay? I just need to not talk to you or
have you talk to me. Just until we get back home. No, scratch that. Just
until tomorrow okay?" she told him, aggravated.

He sighed. "Listen Buffy, I know your ego's bruised right now. Join the
friggen club. Do you have any idea how you've made me feel over the
years?"

That stung for some reason. As if she didn't want to be the cause for his
bruised ego. Well, half of her did and the other, surprised half didn't.

To cover up though, she muttered, "I don't want to talk about it."

"You can't hide from it, or me. Do you plan on just sweeping it under the
rug along with everything else?" he demanded.

The doors pinged open. "As a matter of fact, yes," and she bolted out the
door.

"Buffy—"

"Hey, watch where you're going,"

She turned her head to see that Spike had knocked into someone.

"Sorry, mate."

"I'm not your mate numb nuts. Apologize."

Buffy froze at the same time Spike did. Uh-oh. His jaw started to clench.
Not good. Jaw clenching Spike meant ‘I'm gonna pummel him' Spike.

"Ah crap," she muttered and started for them.

"Excuse me?" Spike asked darkly.

"I said apologize. What? Are you British and retarded?"

Buffy's eyebrows flew off her head and her jaw dropped. What the hell was
wrong with this guy?

Spike was going to kill him; she could see it on his face as he started for the
guy. Dropping her suitcase, she ran to them. Spike stood in front of him,
staring him down. Buffy's heart was pounding in her chest. The guy was
HUGE. He'd knock Spike into next week!

"You should watch your mouth, wanker," Spike seethed.

The guy pushed him and Spike was backed up a bit. Buffy chose that
moment to step in between them.

"Why don't you just turn around and walk away?" She told the big man in
front of her.

"He your man?"

Funny you should ask.

"Yes." What Buffy? What was that?

"Then tell your man not to be so rude."

"He said ‘excuse me'. You're the one being the flaming asshole about it!"

"Shut the fuck up bitch," he said, condescendingly.

Buffy heard an inhuman roar behind her and then everything went so fast,
she didn't have time to react. The next thing she knew, she was being
pushed aside and Spike punched the huge guy right across the face.

"Don't you dare talk like that to her!" He yelled.

She watched in horror as the man fell to the side, regained balance and
lunged at Spike. Being that the guys hands were larger than Spike entire
head, she was concerned he was going to pop his head off. Without thinking,
Buffy jumped on the guys back and started kicking and hitting him.

"Buffy!" Spike shouted to her in a mixture of shock and horror.

The guys arms were flailing and he was yelling at her to get off. She felt herself being lifted off him at the same time his huge arm swung back and smacked her across the face. Her head was knocked to the side by the force of it and a second later, her nose was throbbing. Her eyes widened as she was pulled away.

Then Spike was in front of her, his face full of concern. "Buffy," he was
saying forcefully, trying to get her attention. Her focus was on the guy
talking with security, animatedly. She started to lunge after him and Spike
grabbed her around the waist, stopping her. "Nope. Sorry Champ. Not
going to be anymore fighting today. Let's get that nose looked at, it's
swellin' a bit."

"I can't believe that asshole!" She shouted. Heads were turning. Spike
grabbed her and hoisted her over his shoulder. "Can you help me with the bags?" He asked one of the hotel attendants who went scrambling after their stuff.

"You're an asshole!" She yelled at the guy who had now turned and was
glaring at her. "Yeah, that's right. You! You . . . big bully! That'll teach you
to mess with me and my boyfriend!" She was carried into a room and the door swung shut behind her.

Spike slid her down to the ground.

"Can you believe him? You said ‘excu—"

He pressed a finger to her lips. "Ssshhh kitten. It's all done now."

She gazed up at him, mouth shut, and nodded.

He gently touched the side of her face and she winced. "You all right? Does
it hurt bad?"

"Stings," she murmured. "Is my nose huge?"

Smiling softly, Spike shook his head.

"Here's some ice, sir."

Grabbing the ice from the attendant, and not taking his eyes off Buffy for a
second, he pressed it gently against her cheek.

"That better my little warrior?" he murmured gently and combed his
fingers through her tangled hair.

She nodded mutely, the adrenaline starting to leave her. She faintly heard
the door swing and noted the attendant must have left. She looked up at
Spike who was watching her intently, tenderly.

"Are you hurt?" she asked him.

"Nope, not a scratch. Can't say the same for him though. Didn't expect you
to jump on his back," he chuckled.

She let out a giggle. "I didn't expect it either. I kind of wasn't thinking. Just
reacting. I saw him going for you and I was afraid he was going to kill you,"
she shuddered.

"Didn't know you cared, pet," he murmured, grazing a kiss across her
forehead.

"Well, I look at it this way. You can be a numb nuts. But you're my numb
nuts and if someone's going to be punching you, it's going to be me."

Spike laughed loudly. "Oh Kitten. My little kitten with claws. I know what
you mean. You're a bitch, but you're my bitch and if anyone is going to be
calling you that, it's gonna be me."

Buffy couldn't help but laugh, feeling the tension of the fight drain out of
her. Then her eyes widened. "Our flight! We've got to go!" She started for the door, flinging the ice pack away.

Spike grabbed her arm and brought her back to him. "No, no no. You need
that," he handed her the ice pack back.

"Spike I'm fine. I'll take the ice pack, but we have to go. I don't want to be
here anymore. I just want to go home. Please." She didn't care that she was
pleading, she just wanted to GO.

He nodded, looking a bit stung. "All right," and he started for the door.

She grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"What kitten?"

"Thank you," she told him, simply and yet earnestly.

Brushing a kiss against her lips gently he whispered, "thank you back."
And she let him. She let because . . . because she couldn't think of a good
reason not to let him at that point.

A/N: Having tons of fun with this one! LOL
 

Chapter 11:

Spike looked over at Buffy as she stared out the plane window. "Buffy?"

"Yeah?

"Can you look at me, pet?"

She looked at him, expressionless. "What?"

Gently putting his finger under her chin, he turned her head so he could
see how her cheek was doing. It wasn't as red anymore and whatever swelling her nose had undergone, was fine now.

"I was ready to kill him," Spike murmured.

"I know. And I was afraid he was going to kill you, that's why I jumped on
him."

"Can't believe you did that," Spike chuckled, and then quickly turned
somber. "And when I saw him hit you. . . I was torn between making sure
you were okay and clocking him for that."

"I'm glad you chose me. That would have been a big mess for me to clean
up after."

"Always choose you, pet," Spike told her softly.

"Yeah, well," she sighed and turned back to the window.

"Buffy, I'm sorry if I gave you a hard time this weekend. I realize my
actions haven't exactly been, well, conducive to romance."

She turned back to him, eyebrows raised. "Ya think?"

"In all fairness, you haven't exactly been sweetness and light either. How
do you think it feels when I tell you I love you and you yell at me for it?"

"Spike. . . do you have any idea how hard you made this on me? I mean. . .
I've known you for years. Most of that time you spent, oh, I don't know,
telling my potential dates that I was a hermaphrodite. Then all of a sudden
out of the clear blue sky, you tell me you're in love with me and have been
since high school. How did you think I was going to react? Did you think I
would welcome you with open arms?"

"You admitted you wanted to have sex with me," he pointed out.

"Why don't you speak a little louder, I don't think the pilot heard you," she
told him dryly. "This is what I mean Spike. You don't think. You just. . . DO.
I'm not like that, and I don't know that I can be with someone like that."

"See? You said you didn't know, as if you weren't sure—"

"Spike," she said, annoyed. "Stop. Okay? Just stop. You just need to give it
a rest."

"I can't. I'm sorry Buffy, but I can't. I've held this inside me for so long . . .
I can't let it go now. Not after you admitted to me that you, uh," his voice
dropped to a whisper, "desired me."

"Exactly. Desired you. Not love. Not what you want, remember?"

"The way I see it pet? It has to start somewhere."

She rolled her eyes and sat back on a sigh. "I'm sorry I ever said
anything."

He fell silent for a long time. So long Buffy thought he'd shut up for good.

"I'll stop. For now. " he said quietly.

She was stunned. He was stopping just like that? "What's the catch?" she
asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"No catch. I want you to be happy Princess. And if its me getting under
your skin, then I'll give you some space."

"So no more driving me nuts?"

"Nope."

"Yeah. We'll see how long that lasts."

"Buffy," he reprimanded.

"You said I knew you well," she told him, tossing him a knowing look. "And
I do. Which means Spike Marsters might be quiet for a little while, but it
never lasts."

"Guess I'm gonna have to prove you wrong pet," he told her, puffing his
chest and sitting up straight.

She giggled at him. "I guess so."

"Got you to laugh," he pointed at her.

Buffy shook her head and giggled some more.

"I mean, he was all unconscious—"

"Kitten, he wasn't unconscious."

Buffy looked up at him as they walked into the terminal. "When I tell the
story he will be."

Spike let out an uproarious laugh that had Buffy laughing with him.

"Buffy!"

Both blondes swiveled to see – Angel.

Buffy gulped. She'd forgotten about him. How had she forgotten about
him? She felt about an inch tall at that moment. It had felt like so long since
she'd seen him. She felt as if she'd lived a lifetime in two days. She moved
forward, not wanting to look at Spike. Afraid of what she might see. Angel
enveloped her in a bear hug and lifted her off the ground.

"Did you get my message?" he asked.

"Yup. I didn't think you'd be here."

Angel shrugged. "Wanted to surprise you."

"It worked."

"You didn't call me back. Were you very busy?"

"Ya-huh." Guilt, loud and clear.

"I missed you."

She smiled and hugged him, intentionally sidestepping the kiss he was
about to offer her.

"Can I talk to you for a minute Buffy? I need to go over something with
you."

Buffy pulled back at the sound of Spike's strained voice. Angel let her down
and she righted her clothes. "Uh yeah. Is it about the um, the thing we
talked about at the interview?"

Spike just nodded, his eyes boring into hers.

"Uh, Angel, can you—"

"I'll meet you over at baggage claim," Angel nodded.

"Thanks," she smiled and started off, looking over her shoulder for Angel
who was making his way to the escalator. He was soon enveloped in the
crowd.

Spike, meanwhile, grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd.

"Spike, where are we going?"

He didn't answer her, but continued on. An empty hallway loomed ahead
and Spike dragged her down it. Finding a hidden little doorway, he tugged
her in with him.

"Spike, I didn't know he—" she was cut off by his lips on hers, demanding,
pushing, claiming.

She put her hands on his chest to stop him, wanting to tell him that she
didn't know he was going to be there, but thoughts soon left her head. He
lifted her in his arms a second later, and smooshed her against the door as
he kissed her.

He broke away, leaving them gasping for air and rested his forehead
against hers. "Buffy, Buffy, Buffy," and he leaned in again, capturing her
before she could speak or even gain a coherent thought.

"Don't sleep with him, please," he told her hoarsely when they came up for
air again.

She blinked at him, unable to process anything due to the heat trail blazing
in her body due to Spike and his expert lips.

His lips dribbled down the side of her face, leaving small, soft kisses at the
place she'd been smacked earlier, to her ear which he nibbled and trailed
with his tongue, causing her to shiver. Then down to her neck where he bit
lightly then nuzzled. "Please, don't. . . I won't tell Cordy if you do," he
looked up at her then, meeting her dazed eyes. "I'm begging you Buffy.
Please, don't sleep with him. I'll go insane if you do. It'd kill me pet."

She swallowed and licked her lips. An invitation for Spike to lunge in again
and kiss her senseless. Oh God the things that mouth could do – her
imagination ran wild and she felt a rush of liquid between her legs. She felt
as if she could have an orgasm just from his kiss alone! The kiss that was
devouring her whole. She could feel him, hard, against her.

"I love you so much," he whispered, sounding almost pained.

She leaned in and kissed him softly, and she opened her eyes to see his shocked ones staring back at her. She pulled her head back. "We have to get back."

He nodded and slid her to the floor. He took her hand in his and started to
silently lead her out of the hallway. He stopped suddenly and grabbed her
in a hug and kiss. Releasing her once again, they finally made it back to
civilization.

Buffy felt dizzy and as soon as she saw the words ‘baggage claim'
emblazoned on a sign, she started to come back to reality.

What the hell is going on? She thought as she stepped onto the escalator
with Spike and peered down to see Angel with her bags in hand, grinning up
at her. What the hell am I doing?


 

Chapter 12:

Spike watched as Buffy left with Angel. It tore him two and filled him with such jealousy and rage, he was torn between sobbing and ripping Angel's arms off for touching his girl.

Not his girl.

Yet.

Their talk on the plan had been enlightening. Spike had seen it all from her perspective. He had to admit. . . she was right. To a point anyway. He HAD expected her to fall into his arms after his outburst of love for her. But, what had he done to earn it? He had made her life hell, but only because she didn't pay any attention to him otherwise. It was a vicious circle. She ignored him, he tormented her, she yelled at him, and he yelled back, she ignored him again. And so it went on and on. Those few times they'd gotten along had been pleasant interludes along the way. Times when he wasn't tormenting her and driving her round the bend. Those were the times she was kind to him, reciprocated his friendliness. Spike had been struck with the revelation that he needed to show her more of those times. Those interludes needed to be more than just that. They needed to be all the time—well, as much as they could have. This was still them. Arguing was something they did so well. But, it didn't have to be the only component to their relationship. He needed to SHOW her that he loved her. He had to bring those moment to the forefront and instead of inspiring her ire, he needed to inspire her trust and love.

He recalled the time in the limo when they'd first kissed. They'd been
recounting a time when they'd talked, truly talked. A time when he'd been
there for her, when he'd supported her and took her out of gloom and self-
pity. It was time to have more of those moments. If he showed her
properly how much he loved her, she'd come to love him too.

Wouldn't she?

So, instead of carrying on with his threat of telling Cordy if she slept with
Angel, he instead begged her not to sleep with him. Begged her heart to see
that he could hold onto it and never hurt it. He begged her to see that he
truly loved her and would do anything to show her that. Even if it meant
seeing her leave with Angel.

He'd been ready to take her against the wall. He knew he couldn't, despite
how desperately he wanted to. She'd been ready for him to do so, he knew
that for certain. He hoped by kissing her senseless, she would be filled with
him and only him. He prayed she would see that it was him, and only him,
that could move her to such passion. After all, hadn't she already admitted
that she didn't love Angel?

So, now it was Operation Woo Buffy. He just hoped he didn't go nuts with
worrying about what Buffy was doing with Angel in the meantime. He'd
meant it when he said it'd kill him if she slept with him. After all the kisses,
all the passion and heat they'd shared over the weekend, he'd be
devastated. He was steps closer to being with his Buffy, he couldn't lose her
now.

He just didn't know how to go about this without totally mucking it up.
Time to call in reinforcements.



Xander stared at Spike in open astonishment. Spike just glared at him.
Pointing at him and giving him what he hoped was a menacing enough
glare, he warned the whelp not to breathe a damn word. Not even to his
live in girlfriend, Anya.

"I can't believe you finally told her. And in a strip club no less!" Xander
exclaimed.

"Could you keep your voice down?" Spike grumbled.

"I'm just so stunned. I always thought. . . "

"Thought what?" Spike asked, cocking his head to the side.

Xander shrugged. "Figured you would have gotten over it by now. I mean,
it's been over ten years now Spike."

"I'm acutely aware, trust me," Spike mumbled, sipping his beer. He looked
back up at his best friend. "But no, I haven't gotten over it. I never will get
over it. I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on Buffy Summers. She's the
one for me. The only one."

"Wow," Xander said in awe.

"I know," Spike nodded.

"She's turned you into such a girl."

Spike glared at Xander as his friend erupted in laughter. "You think you
could give me some tips? Anya would be bowled over by that crap."

"It's not crap. It's the truth. You telling me you don't feel that way for
Anya?" Spike demanded, watching Xander over his bottle.

Xander looked down, "I do." He looked back up at his friend. "But I've
been going out with her for a while now. Not carrying a big ol' torch for ten

years. There is a subtle difference."

"I'm aware. And so is she. Which is why I need your help."

"You're asking ME?" Xander asked in astonishment.

"I know. I can't believe it either. Might bring on a bloody apocalypse."

"Hey!"

"But, you've known us since high school. You know me, you know Buffy.
You know how to keep a bird happy, though I'm sure I still don't know
what she sees in you," Spike grinned.

"Did you want my help or. . .?" Xander asked dryly.

"Sorry whelp. Have to get my shots in when I can."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, being that I do know Buffy, LONGER than you I
might add, I would say that you need to back off just a touch. Don't
overwhelm her. That freaks her out."

"Yeah," Spike wrinkled his nose. "Got that message loud and clear. Do you
think leading her off and asking her not to sleep with Angel was too much?"

"Hard to say. How did she seem?"

Spike smiled at the memory. "She kissed me, all on her own once."

"So, you got her hot and bothered?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it."

"So, you got her hot and bothered and sent her off with her boyfriend."

Spike's eyes widened in horror. "Fuck! What the hell was I thinking?"

Xander started to laugh. "Relax buddy."

Spike bolted up from his chair, slamming his beer down with such force,
liquid spilled from the top. "I'm going to go see her, make sure she –"

"Spike. Sit down. You running over there will not help matters. She'll think
you're checking up on her—"

"I would be checking up on her!"

"And how did she react when you told her not to sleep with Angel or you'd
have her fired?"

Spike slumped back down in his seat. "She said she hated me," he
muttered.

"I think you should give her a couple days."

"What?" Spike asked, thinking that was crazy. It'd only been one
excruciatingly long day since he'd seen her and already he was going out of
his bloody mind. He missed her. Spending two whole days with her, just
her, had him wanting more. He'd stopped himself from calling, giving her
time to rest and think. . . but it was bloody killing him and now the whelp
figured a couple more days of this?

"Give her a couple days. Let the weekend sink in, let what happened
marinate and have time to set. Give her time to miss you. Then go see her.
Surprise her. Don't shower her with gifts, she doesn't respond to that, don't
do grand romantic gestures – "

"Damn, there goes the sky writing I had planned."

"Smart ass. Did you want my help or not?"

"I do. You're doing great. Really great. I just might go mad not seeing her
for so long."

"I don't get it man. You always had luck with the ladies. Always knew the
moves, the right things to say. Now with Buffy, it's like all of that know how
left. What happened?"

Spike grinned. "It's her. And me. Those other girls? They were tarts.
Bimbo's. Most of them were in it for a quick shag, or I was in it for a quick
shag. Buffy's different. She's not only sexy, but she's intelligent. She has a
head on her shoulders and what I want from her is more than a quick shag.
I want forever. So the rules this time are different because she's different. I
just need to prove that to her."

Xander smiled broadly and leaned back in his chair. "Welcome to the
wonderful world of relationships and love Spike. Glad to have you aboard.
And, as your first mate, I say you start remembering all those things about
Buffy from the past and use it to your advantage. You do know the way to
her heart. Probably more than she does. With that knowledge, she'll be
putty in your hands and Angel will be a faint memory."

A/N thank you guys so much for the reviews:)
 

Chapter 13:

Buffy sat in her office a couple days later, staring out the window and tapping her pen on the stack of papers in front of her.

Tap, tap, tap, tap. Where was Spike? Tap, tap, tap, tap. Why hadn't he at least called? Tap, tap, tap, tap. Had all of it really happened? Tap, tap, tap, tap. What is he doing right now? Did he find someone else to release his sexual frustration on?

She missed him.

If someone had told her she'd miss Spike after spending an entire weekend
with him – with all the friggen drama they had gone through – she would
have laughed in their face, balked at them. Told them they were out of
their fucking minds. But, no, here she was. Missing him. In fact, he'd been
on her mind since their ‘light the world on fire' kiss(es) they'd shared upon
arriving home.

And when Angel had initiated sex with her, she'd refused him. Told him
she had her period. Which would work well for about a week. It was the
only thing she could come up with on the spot that would make Angel back
off. All she could hear in her head was Spike pleading with her to not have
sex with him. He didn't threaten her, didn't order her, didn't demand she
not do it. All he did was ask her not to. No, correction, he pleaded with her.
PLEADED. Spike PLEADED. Begged. She was sure if she asked him to get
down his knees and beg her that way, he would have. And, it'd worked
because she couldn't do it with Angel. She felt guilt for even thinking of it.

Lust. And the challenge. Buffy always did like a good challenge. She
snorted. So did Spike apparently.

"What's got you thinking so hard, pet?"


Her head swiveled to see Spike standing in her doorway. She felt a grin tug
at the corner of her mouth despite her trying to keep a neutral face.

"Hi," she greeted him.

"Hi," he walked in, closing the door and sat on her desk, facing her.
"How've you been?"

Confused, scared, lonely for you. Bastard. "Fine. You?"

He seemed to be wrestling with something before just nodding and saying
good.

"I don't have anything for you today. I had some clients that I missed over
the weekend to take care of. A fire to help put out with a colleague – "

"I didn't come by for that Buffy."

"Oh?" she said meekly.

"Buffy. . . "he started and then stopped. He stared at her and she waited,
not moving. Sliding off the desk, he slid down to his knees in front of her on
the floor and cupped her face in his hands. "I've missed you pet. I've missed
you so much I haven't been able to think straight. Did you miss me?"

She didn't want to answer him; she just wanted him to kiss her. Her skin
was already hot for him, her palms were itching, her heart at a gallop. Her
senses seemed flooded by him when he was around and she hated it. She
didn't feel in control. She felt that he had somehow switched the game on
her.

She found herself leaning in to him and stopped herself, breathlessly. "I—I
can't." She pushed at him and stood up on shaky legs. "What are you doing
to me?" she asked on a moan.

"I don't know pet, that's the whole problem. Why don't you tell me?"

"I have a boyfriend," she stated.

"That you don't love. Why are you with him?"

"He's safe," she blurted out.

"Buffy, look at me please."

She shook her head, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout.

Then she felt him behind her, his breath on her neck. She swallowed hard
and didn't move a muscle. Gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist
and pulled her oh so slowly against him. Leaning in, he nuzzled her neck.
"Why can't you look at me?"

She was breathing heavy now, her lids closing at his touch.

"You make me lose all rational thought," she whispered.

He chuckled deeply, the vibrations moving like little shock waves through
her system.

"I know exactly what you mean," he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth.
"Exhilarating ain't it?"

"I hate it," she told him bluntly, finding her voice somehow.

"I'll have to teach you to like it. You can fall Buffy. I'll catch you."

There was a knocking at her door, which had Buffy jumping out of Spike's
arms and moving far away from him.

The door opened and Cordy stood there. "Have you guys done it yet?"

Buffy started to cough.

"Done what?" Spike asked smoothly.

"Killed each other."

Spike chuckled and Buffy reddened.

"Nope, " he answered.

"Well, ‘Sensual' just sent over an article done by a Harmony. They thought
maybe you'd like to read it over before it was published," Cordy flopped the
package on her desk. "Behave guys," and she sauntered out, shutting the
door behind her.

Buffy went straight for the package while Spike went straight for her.

She stopped him by holding up her hand and pointing at him. "You heard
her. Behave."

He pouted.

"Either that or I keep the door open."

Rolling his eyes, he dejectedly sat on the couch across the room.

"All right. Let's see what the annoying one has to say."

Buffy tore into the package and her eyes bugged.

"What?" Spike jumped up and made it by her side in two seconds.

"Oh bloody hell. I can tell you right now that's NOT going to be published,"
he told her peering over her shoulder.

Buffy started to laugh. "Why ever not Blondie Bear?"

"She's sodding insane."

"You dated her."

"What the hell was I thinking?" He muttered.

"Did you really want me to answer that?"

"Bite me."

She leaned in ever so gently and Spike froze. She knew he was waiting for
her to touch him or kiss him in some way. Standing up on her tip toes she
breathed in his hear. "Don't you wish I would?" Then, anticipating his next
move, she jumped away from him with the grace of a cat and laughed as he
started to grab for her, narrowly missing her. She giggled and he began
stalking her around his room. He had a predatory look in his eye and if she
admitted it to herself, it was turning her on. She had just about made it to
the door to open it when his arms closed around her, pulling her against his
chest. He bit down on her neck and she let out a small squeal.

He spun her around in his arms and captured her lips, kissing her soundly.

"Did you sleep with him?" he asked quietly.

She froze in his arms. "Spike. . . "

"Did you?" he asked, his hold tightening.

"No," she whispered.

"Thank you," he murmured and smiled tenderly when her gaze flew to his.
He pressed a kiss to her lips gently and let her go. He strolled to the door
and before opening it, turned to her and said. "Remember what I said,
Buffy. Fall and I'll catch you."

She stared at him as he walked out of the office, wondering if the fluttering
in her belly was part of the falling process.




 

Chapter 14:

"Spike, where are we going?" Buffy asked as Spike nearly drug her out of her office the following day. He'd popped in, announcing he was taking her out. He wouldn't say where though, and Buffy hated not knowing where she was going. In short, she hated surprises. She liked to know what was going on at all times.

"I told you. Out of the office. Away from work. I'm kidnapping you," he grinned down at her and she shivered in reaction. Had his voice always been that sexy? It was so deep and hypnotic. She was sure she could get aroused listening to him recite a phone book or the Gettysburg Address.

"Where are you kidnapping me to?" she insisted.

"Can't just let yourself go can you?"

"It's not in my makeup."

"Why not?"

"I don't know if you knew this, but I'm kind of a control freak."

He smiled, "Think I heard a rumor about that."

She smiled back at him. "I went over the article Harmony wrote."

"The title is going," he told her immediately, "I'm not going to be known as
‘Blondie Bear'."

Stopping in front of his car, he opened the passenger side door. "Mi'lady,
your chariot awaits."

She giggled at him, and took note that she'd been doing a lot of that as of
late. Laughing. Giggling. With Spike, at Spike, around Spike. It was
unnerving and different…nice.

She slid into his beloved black DeSoto and looked around. It was old, but in
mint condition.

Sliding in beside her, he leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose and
waggled his eyebrows. "Ready?"

"I guess," she said on a sigh.

"Trust me."

She let that lie. That was along the same lines as ‘falling' and Buffy just
wasn't ready for that yet.

"Are you going to buy a DeSoto in every color when you're rich?" she
asked a few minutes later.

"Nope. Maybe I'll buy you a car though. What kind do you want?"

She laughed. "You're not going to buy me a car, Spike."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"I won't let you. You should invest some of your money—"

"Buffy?"

"What?"

"No shop talk, remember?"

"My mistake."

"Have you spoken to Willow lately?"

‘Uh, yeah. I just saw her last night."

"How's she doing? I haven't seen her much since she and Xander moved in
with their significant others."

"She's good. Busy prepping the apartment and making it all Willow like. Oz
seems like a really great guy."

"He introduced you to Angel, yeah?"

"Yeah," she said slowly.

"Not all that nice then," Spike said and grinned at her.

She hit him playfully on the arm and he snatched her swiping hand and
kissed the fingertips. "In case I haven't told you recently, I love you."

"Spike," she said on a plea.

"Just want to tell you is all. Here we are."

Buffy looked down and took note that they were still holding hands. She
took her hand away so he could park along the side of the road and they
climbed out. They were at the park. Buffy inhaled deeply on the scent of
lilies and closed her eyes. When she opened them she found Spike smiling
tenderly at her. "Smell the lilies?"

She nodded, smiling shyly.

Opening the trunk, Spike took out what appeared to be a picnic basket.

"You're taking me on a picnic?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded and took her hand once again. "Yup. You need some fresh air.
Can't have my girl all cooped up inside. Fresh air so you can have a clear
mind when taking care of me."

She followed him, thinking that an afternoon in the peaceful park with the
green grass under her and the scent of lilies surrounding her was a perfect
way to clear her mind. Following Spike to find the perfect spot for their
picnic a thought started nagging at her.

"Did you do this for Harmony and all those other girls?" she blurted out.

Spike stopped and looked down at her, dropping the basket. He brushed
some hair away from her face. "No. Picnics weren't exactly what they had
in mind."

She took her hand from his grasp and stepped back. "Or yours probably."

He sighed, "Pet, I didn't want to do special things for them like I do for
you."

"So this is what it is? Doing special things for me so I'll leave Angel?"

"Don't do this Buffy, please. I wanted to take you out today. Get you away
from work and see you outside of that place and away from New York. I
wanted to get you in a place where we could talk and laugh and, I don't
know, enjoy each others company. I just wanted you to relax and enjoy
yourself, possibly with me."

He looked so earnest and yet crestfallen that she'd doubted his attentions.
She pointed to the basket and squinted up at him. "So what did you pack
for lunch?"

He grinned and handed her the blanket he had draped over the basket.
"Help me with this and I'll show you."



Buffy had her mouth full of fluff and peanut butter and she was trying not
to laugh with her hand over her mouth as Spike recounted his short lived
stint working in a preschool while he'd been away at school.

"So then Timmy walks over to me and he's whining and telling me that
Jessica called him a bad name. So, I said, ‘Tim, what did she call you?' And
he stops and he furrows his brow and I can tell he's thinking really hard.
Finally he turns around to Jessica who's at the table coloring and says
‘Jessica what did you call me?'"

Buffy swallowed and burst into laughter. "What did she say?"

"She said, in this real snotty voice, ‘nothing Timmy!'"

When their laughter died, Buffy cocked her head to the side. "Sounds like
you really enjoyed it there. Why did you leave?"

"Schedule changed, didn't have much time during the day anymore."

"Not very often a guy works in daycare. Mostly it's women."

Spike shrugged. "Well, I've always liked kids and it was at that time that I
was taking education classes. Thought I was going to be a teacher like my
dad."

"I remember. Your dad was a tough teacher. You probably could have
filled his shoes perfectly." She grinned devilishly.

Spike grinned back and poked her. "Troublemaker."

"So what made you change your mind? Did you have an epiphany? A
stroke a genius one night and suddenly the words were flowing from your
pen like water?"

He raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "Guess it's a montage that I always pictured happening
with authors."

He chuckled. "No, actually writing is something I'd always enjoyed doing.
Just never thought I'd amount to anything doing it. I got praise from the
writing groups I was part of, but I guess I didn't have the self confidence in
myself to do it."

Her eyes bugged. "You? Not have self-confidence? You've got to joking."

Spike smiled shyly. "Not secure on everything Buffy. It took a professor,
whom I considered a mentor, to get me seriously thinking about it. It was
with his help that I submitted my work and, well, here I am now."

"Wow, that's impressive. I think in interviews you should expound on that.
Give other writers out there—"

"Buffy."

"Right. No shop talk. What can I say, it's ingrained in me. Always one step
ahead."

He cocked his head to the side. "Are you now?"

She looked at him. "Yeah, except with you."

"I'm not going to pretend that doesn't make me happy. Don't you think it'd
be boring if you always knew what to expect?"

"Depends on how you look at it. If say, you're going along thinking someone
is the bane of your existence and their sole purpose in life is to torment you,
and then they drop the bomb on you that they've been in love with you all
this time. . . It tends to throw you off center."

They stared at each other for a minute before Buffy cleared her throat.

"So, what other things are you insecure about?"

"You," he said simply, quickly.

She was stunned. "Me?"

"Yes, you. I've dated girls before Buffy, I've been top of my class and done
outrageous things just for the fun of it or to gain some prestige. But you
make me insecure."

"How?" she asked dumbfounded.

"Because you hold the power in your hands to either let me in, or leave me
hanging. While I'm so sure that I'm hopelessly and helplessly in love with
you, I'm unsure if you'll ever reciprocate those feelings back. You terrify
me."

"Well I guess we're even then."

"How so?"

She met his eyes. "Because you terrify me."



 

Chapter 15:

Spike blinked. She was terrified of him? He wasn't sure if he should take some odd comfort out of that or feel an inch tall for it. "How do I—?"

"I shouldn't have said anything," she said and stood quickly, starting to
pack up.

"No, no Buffy," he shook his head and stood, grabbing her arms and
making her look at him. "Tell me why I terrify you."

She wriggled free of his grasp and gestured between the two of them.
"This. Right here." She then gestured to the picnic. "All of it."

"You have to do better than that. Spell it out Buffy."

"You KNOW why. You just want me to say it."

"Because I think you NEED to say it."

"No, I don't," she told him and started to pack up the basket. "We've been
gone long enough and we have work to do—"

"God dammit Buffy! Stop hiding from me!"

"Then stop pushing me!" she shouted back.

"You hide behind this wall . . . is it working for you? Does it make you
happy?"

"It keeps me safe," she told him, facing him now.

"You still think I'd hurt you."

"Yes!"

"Why Buffy? Why do you think that I would? You're the only one that can
hurt me here, you know. You haven't been carrying a bloody torch like I
have all these years."

"Because you make me feel!" She burst out, frustrated, eyes welling with
tears.

He fell silent, giving her time.

"You make me feel things that I don't to feel, that I'm afraid to feel," she wiped at her eyes furiously. "It's scary and what if you aren't there to catch me? What if I fall and then you grow tired of me? Then what'll happen to me? I don't want to end up like that."

Spike moved forward slowly, gently wiped her tears away and pulled her
into the safety of his arms. "Let it out Buffy," he whispered gently. "Tell
me. End up like what?"

"My mother," she whimpered. She pushed at him suddenly. "See you just .
. . do that . . . and I cave. I don't want to cave like that!"

"I just want to comfort you because I love you!" he exclaimed in
frustration.

"Well stop!"

"I can't. Don't you think I've tried? I can't get you out of my system, you're
all around me, in me . . . surrounding me. I can't just stop."

He wasn't sure what made her stop fighting him for a minute; maybe she
took pity on him. Maybe she saw how wounded he was by her refusal that
she somehow found it in her closed off heart to open up to him. Or, maybe
it was the feelings she was having for him that made her ultimately do it.
Whatever the reason, he wasn't going to stop her. Instead, he listened.
Something he realized that he never really did with Buffy before. He never
just stopped and really listened. He spent all his time trying to figure out
how to get her attention and weasel his way in, that he never really heard
her. If he had, he would have seen sooner the struggles inside her. It wasn't
until he'd used the word ‘love' in her presence that he'd seen her fight so
hard, struggle so much and seen her vulnerable. Invincible Buffy Summers
was VULNERABLE. And it terrified her.

"My mom, not just my mom. My parents. Not exactly Ward and June
Cleaver. Well, all depends on how close you look. From the outside, it
appeared that way.

See my mom was totally over the moon for my dad. They met in college.
My dad was studying to be a lawyer and my mom was in art. Her dream
was to open a gallery and display her work and other artists. She had all
these visions and plans and together they seemed invincible. Straight out
of college, my dad was hired by a law firm and my mom was learning the
ropes in a nearby gallery. They had the beautiful house, the white picket
fence and then they had me.

It didn't take long for my dad to make partner and my mom to be co-
owner of the gallery. She was showcasing her own stuff, among others, and
she was, for all intents and purposes, a success.

Then, things started to get bad around the time my mom became pregnant
with Dawn. My dad was staying later at the office, he was working ungodly
hours and even working on weekends. It didn't take long for my mother to
figure out that he was having an affair. By that time, I was thirteen.

She was in a tremendous rage and would alternate between screaming and
crying. I remember her taking off one day to the beach after dropping
Dawnie off at daycare. I came home from school on the bus and there was a
message on the answering machine that she was at the beach and she was
planning on ending it all."

Spike gasped and moved to Buffy to hold her. She held up her hands. "Just
let me finish."

"Okay, pet."

"Now, I was thirteen, I wasn't stupid. I knew what she meant. She was
going to kill herself. I called my father at work and told him what was going
on. He in turn called my aunt and she got Dawnie and came to sit with me
at the house while he went after my mother.

She came home, obviously, and they went to counseling. Things seemed to
be getting better until my mom quit the gallery. Somehow she got it in her
head that if she was more accessible to my dad, then they'd be happier and
he wouldn't stray again.

It backfired. The more accessible she became, the more distant he was.
She bent over backwards for him. Did everything she could to ‘be there' for
him that she lost herself. She did everything short of handing him his
fucking slippers when he came through the door. She gave up her dreams,
her gallery, everything – for him. And how did he repay her? He left her.

My mom became a shell of a woman. By the time all this happened, the
gallery had already been bought by new owners. If she wanted to go back,
she'd have to start from scratch. Nevermind the fact that she hadn't
touched a paintbrush since leaving, spending all her time being the Donna
Reed of the household.

Since my father was a lawyer, she made out pretty good. She stayed home,
took the odd class here and there, and took care of Dawn and I. She wasn't
happy, she's still not happy. She's miserable. Why? Because of love.
Because she loved my dad so much, she lost who she was. I swore when I
saw what she became that I would never let that happen to me. I would
never lose myself in someone to the point where I gave up my career and
my life. Especially for someone who would end up leaving me anyway."

"Buffy, your dad . . . he was an ass for doing that to your mother."

"Tell me about it. Know the last time I heard from him? When I was
seventeen and he invited me to his wedding."

"Was she—"

"I don't know. I didn't want to know."

"Buffy, love makes you do the wacky; I'm not going to lie to you about that.
It makes you do some pretty fucking amazing things. But what your dad
did . . . what happened to your parents . . . it won't ever happen to you. A
man that would cheat on his wife and betray his family like that is not a
man at all. And your mom . . . what she did . . . she was weak Buffy. She lost
herself because she let your dad define who she was. That's not you, that
would NEVER be you and I would NEVER let that be you. Do you think I
would let you do that to yourself?"

Buffy didn't answer, just let the tears fall.

Spike moved up to her and, grabbing a napkin, wiped at her tears. Pushing
the hair away from her face, he cupped her face in his hands. "I wouldn't
leave you, not ever Buffy," he promised. "Remember when we were in New
York and we were going to all those clubs?"

"Are you kidding me? How could I forget New York?"

"Right. Good point. Do you know how happy it made me to have you on my
arm? You willingly held onto me for support and I was on top of the world.
When were in that female strip club and those women were grinding
against poles and taking off their clothes. . . do you know who I kept seeing
on their faces?"

She shook her head.

"You, Buffy. You. I wasn't turned on from them, I was turned on by you.
You were up so close against me at the fantasy club . . . you were grinding
against me and it was like you were mine, just mine. It was you I desired, it
was you I was consumed with. I told you then, didn't I? I told you I was in
love with you and that I couldn't direct that sexual tension at anyone but
you. It's you Buffy, god help me, it's all about you.

You're not your mother, would never be, and I'm not your dad – would
never be."

She looked up at him with watery eyes. "Can we go now please? I just want
to go back now, okay?"

Spike nodded, leaning in and pressing a comforting kiss on her forehead. It
wasn't the time to push for anything at that moment. She needed to
regroup and gather herself back together. She wasn't much for breaking
down and he knew that when she did, it was a serious matter and not to be
taken lightly.

He kept an eye on her as they made their way back to the car and he could
see her thoughts were heavy. Hell, so were his. He'd learned a lot about
Buffy. He wondered if Angel knew any of it. He had a funny feeling that he
didn't. Safe men like Angel had no part in knowing the secret fears of Buffy

Summers. However, someone who was close to her, someone who
frightened her with their vows of love, was in the know.

It was obvious really: She was falling in love with him. And as much as that
should have pleased him, all he wanted to do at that moment was calm her
fears and fight the demons that plagued her with the memories of her
parent's marriage. He didn't want her to confess that the reason she was
terrified of him was because she was falling in love with him. He just
wanted to put the smile back on her face and even get her to argue with
him again.
Once they'd arrived at the office, Spike pulled her into a hug and just held her. She didn't fight him, she just held onto him for a long while until she'd murmured she had work to do and to stop by the next day. He nodded his agreement and left, thoughts heavy in his mind.
 

Chapter 16:

Buffy entered her apartment, tossed her keys on the table, and looked around. She was all alone. Not that she minded too much. She'd had an exhausting day, and she never did get to speak with Spike on the article Harmony wrote. Aside from the ‘Blondie Bear' title, it'd been a pretty dry, straightforward article. Buffy guessed she either had someone write it for her, or added on to the tidbits she knew. Basically, the article wasn't going to hurt him to have it published. Hopefully, the other interview he'd had would be a tad more colorful and exciting.

Kind of like the man himself.

She smiled to herself warily, still able to feel his arms around her, comforting her. She'd been mulling over his words all day and she alternated from being angry with him for saying those things about her mother, to feeling that he was absolutely right. She also did know that were she with Spike, he wouldn't want her to change. He loved her despite her bitchiness for some odd reason.

Pressing the new messages on her answering machine she listened to
Angel. "Hey baby. Wondering what you were up to tonight. When you get
in, give me a call."

She sighed. She wasn't going to call Angel. She just didn't have it in her to
see him. To put on the happy Buffy face and pretend that everything is
perfect and great and pretend to be the model girlfriend. Dumping her stuff
on the recliner, she laid back on the couch, her arm over her eyes. She
needed a friend. She needed Spike. The thought didn't jolt her as she
thought it would. He was, after all, the one who knew about her family life.
And he hadn't used to his advantage, hadn't pushed her for anything, hadn't
made fun of her or made some smart ass remark. He just LISTENED. And
held her. Didn't even make any comments about Buffy the Invincible
crying. In fact, he'd seen genuinely concerned. The thought that someone
knew a part of her that no one else did . . . the thought that Spike knew a
part of her that no one else did made her feel connected to him. She almost
felt as if she wanted to unload everything on him, tell him about every fear
she ever had, every desire and goal and that he'd just listen and not judge.
And she knew he wouldn't. He'd just take it all in and support her. Aside
from Willow, she didn't think anyone had ever made her feel that she
belonged like that. That she wasn't an robot, that she was a person with
real issues and feelings.

A person that could break.

She dropped her arm. Nope. No breaking. There would be no breaking
here. Strong, Buffy strong. Glancing down at the coffee table, she noticed a
copy of Spike's manuscript laying there. God, she should be checking out
where to hold a book signing, maybe have him do a reading of the book, get
him an interview with a literary magazine. She picked up the manuscript.
Well, it'd help to read it first wouldn't it? That way she could kill two birds
with one stone. She could do her job and read the book, and, she could
quench her desire to be in Spike's company by wrapping herself up in the
world he'd created.


Spike sat at the bar, absent mindedly drinking his beer and wondering how Buffy was doing. Should he call her? No. He didn't want to crowd her. He kept mulling over their afternoon together and he found himself in a constant state of amazement. She'd told him everything. HIM. The ‘boy' she swore was the bane of her existence at one time. They'd come a long way. Most of it within a weekend.

She was such an amazing woman and if it were possible to love her more,
well, then, he did. She wasn't Buffy the Invincible. She was Buffy with the
tender heart that was so afraid to have broken. She was a driven,
successful woman who needed to learn that she could have all she wanted
PLUS love. Love that would move mountains, because if she asked him; he
would move mountains, rivers and lasso stars for her.

She'd given him a gift today. She gave him a part of herself he was sure
that no one else knew and he cherished it. Cherished that she opened up to
him in that way, she'd TRUSTED him and he would NEVER do
ANYTHING to break that trust.

"Angel, stop!"

Spike froze and turned his head to the source of that voice. It wasn't
Buffy's, that was for sure. The girls voice sounded needy, for one. His eyes
bugged when he saw Angel standing in the doorway with a dark haired girl
wrapped around him like a second skin. She had her face pressed into his
neck and Spike could see that Angel was saying something to her, and she
nodded against him. Separating, Angel started for the door and the girl
lunged at him, twining her arm through his.

"Fuck," he muttered.

Now what the hell was he going to do? Two weeks ago, he would have been
flying high and ready to jump to tell Buffy he'd seen her latest with a tart
wrapped around him. Now? Not so much. While it was true that Buffy
didn't love the ponce, she still didn't deserve this! This would just send her
fleeting back into the castle she'd built around herself. She'd considered
Angel safe. God, he could see the tailspin this would send Buffy on.

He had to tell her though. Had to. How could he NOT tell her? She'd be
mad at him if she found out later on that he'd kept it from her. And why the
bloody hell was she still with him anyway? She had to know after today
that her relationship with Angel wasn't going anywhere, especially now.
He'd tell her tomorrow. Yes, he'd take her away from the office again and
tell her tomorrow.



Buffy squinted at the clock and her eyes widened. It was three am! She put
the finished manuscript down and stared at it.

Simply beautiful.

She felt even closer to him now. Wanted to call him and tell him how
amazing he was and how talented. She wanted to apologize for not devoting
even more time to his ‘case'. His words spun gold. He managed to weave a
story that transported her into the world of the characters he created – or
maybe not so much created. Was Tess her? Was she the 'glorious angel' that Brandon had fallen in love with but could never seem to touch? She blushed
at the idea. She couldn't be. How conceited was that to think? Brandon
loved the girl so much, he did everything he could to get her to notice him.
He went on a glorious journey all for the girl who never knew he existed.
The way Spike had weaved poetry in the story when Brandon would write
sonnets to his beloved, the way he seemed to dig right to the heart of
Brandon. She felt for him. She ached for him. She so wanted him to have
Tess. And at the very end, all Brandon had managed to do was say ‘hello' to
Tess. But then Tess knew, Tess knew that Brandon was real and she smiled
at him . . . she was going to give him a chance wasn't she?

Buffy grabbed for the phone to call Spike. She needed more. He needed to write more. He needed to finish their tale and they needed to live happily ever after. He HAD to be writing a sequel to this. Had to. As his publicist, she'd demand it. She stopped when she was halfway through dialing.

For crying out loud, it was three in the morning. She couldn't call him now. She'd see him in the morning. Laying back, Buffy closed her eyes. Soon, sleep crept up on her as images of Brandon and Tess – looking strikingly much like Spike and herself, danced through her dreams.



 

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