Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

You won't admit you love me

And so how am I ever to know

You only tell me,

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

"Fifty bucks, Wills! C'mon, there's no way you can pass this up."

Brow raised, the redhead gave him a snort that practically screamed she was questioning whether he had anything resembling human morals.

"I'm not betting on my friend's love lives, Xander." Shaking her head, she added, "That's very slimy and Pete Rose-y of you."

He rolled his eyes. "They bet on their virginity. Kinda takes the special right out of it, don't ya think?" Carefully looking over the cards in his hand, Xander sighed heavily and said, "Got any two's?"

Flashing a pixe-ish smile, she stuck out her tongue. "You're goin' fishin', mister."

A curse was mumbled as Xander grudgingly dug through the deck of cards in the middle of the floor.

"I just wouldn't feel right about it," Willow spoke up. "I mean, I'm all for Buffy and Spike's respective heads leaving their respective asses long enough to realize what's in front of them..."

"Then why not put your money where your mouth is." Xander grinned wickedly. "Huh, Rosenberg? Fifty-fifty shot at making a little scratch. It's what Jesus would do."

"Still Jewish," she quipped. "Any queens?"

With a grumble he threw three cards in Willow's direction. "Moses would do it, too."

"What makes you so sure Spike's gonna be the one to go running to Buffy?" Willow eyed the boy carefully over the top of her hand. "I seem to remember you saying he was swimming deep in denial."

"Toss those five's my way," he said absently. "And yeah, 'The Bleached-One' is wading pretty deep, but, and this is the key to my theory -- he has no shot with Cecily. None. Nin. Nada. Monkey's will take refuge, build little monkey condominiums, make little monkey babies, and fly out of my ass before Cecily would ever touch Spike."

The back of his head hit the wall pretty hard, in fact, he wouldn't be surprised to find a nice sized lump nesting there in the morning, but at this moment Spike could've taken a bullet in the arm and barely noticed.

So was the power of Cecily Holmes' tongue.

Currently being pressed up against a wall in one of the darkest corners of the Bronze with Cecily writhing against him while her lips worked their magic --

A little sloppy, though...

A mental bitch slap was quickly administered. What the hell was wrong with him?! Every night, since the sixth grade just the thought that she would spare a look in his direction was enough to sustain him; and here he was, in closer proximity than he ever imagined he would be and he was daft enough to critique her kissing abilities?!

And a mint wouldn't hurt this bird either...

Okay, that was it. He was officially tuning out his brain. Here on out, Spike was concentrating on kissing Cecily and kissing Cecily only.

Ooh, Jimmy Eat World! I love this band; gotta remember to buy that album...

A million times I ask you

And then I ask you over again

You only answer

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Willow nodded. "You have a point, but Buffy's already acknowledged having feelings for him. It makes sense she would be the one to do the actual admitting."

Grumbling, Xander added six more cards to his hand. "Ah, but that's where you falter, Grasshopper. The Buffster has Angel. Angel equals comfort. First chance she gets she'll be smothered in quarterback."

"...Mmmph, Buffy...you...don't...think...this...is...too...fast...?" Angel managed to say in between fevered kisses.

Buffy tore her lips away from his to give him an incredulous look.

"Point taken."

In one swift motion Angel's shirt was lifted over his head and discarded in a pile on the floor. Quickly, his lips were on hers again as he deftly guided them toward the bed.

If you can't make your mind up

We'll never get started

And I don't wanna wind up

Being parted, broken hearted.

"I think you're giving Spike way too much credit. The Cecily-obsession is there -- creepy and sad, yes, but still there." Snatching up a handful of chips from a nearby bowl, she added," It's too easy for him to hang onto."

"True," Xander nodded, "but I'm gonna have to go back to the 'not a snowball's chance in hell' reality of things, here, Wills."

That got a snicker.

"Any aces?"

Willow beamed. "Nope," she said popping the 'p'.

"Goddammit."

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

Wide-eyed, Spike stared at her, his kiss-swollen mouth opening and closing like a fish. Cecily cocked her head to the side and he could've sworn he saw a flash of annoyance in her eyes,

However, instead of biting his head off and spitting it out across the room, she coyly smiled and batted eyelashes. "You're not gonna leave me hanging are you, lovie?"

Say something you sodding idiot!

Lascivious smile forming on his lips, Spike somehow managed to get out the words,

"Of course I'm not."

minus any sort of embarrassing squeak.

Without another word, Cecily grabbed his hand and lead him through the crowd.

So if you really love me

Say yes

But if you don't dear, confess

But please don't tell me

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

"I know Buffy and she would never go to Angel just to get away from the Spike feelings. As wigged as she is right now, she's not one for the cold comfort."

Shrugging, Xander stuffed a wad of chips in his mouth. "Beg to differ."

Willow made a face. "Swallow before you talk, Xand. There's an ick factor when you don't."

Briefly his hand stopped rummaging through the nightstand's top drawer,

A pause, "One more time; are you sure?"

Looking up at him with wide-eyes, Buffy pulled her lips in tightly and nodded.

"Very sure."

Scenario A: Satin sheets, drippy candles and Chris Issack's "Wicked Game" on repeat.

Slowly, she worked his zipper down and Spike's jaw clenched when Cecily flashed him that smile as she knelt before him.

Scenario B: Tub, jasmine bath salts, foamy bubbles, and drippy candles.

A rather unmanly squeal was somehow contained when she expertly took his dick out of the confines of his jeans.

Scenario C: Five minute fuck on Star Wars bed sheets with mum and dad two doors away; and, oh, don't forget those fucking candles.

All of these situations had played out in his head at one time or another; and all were acceptable or expected to one degree or another. Taking sweet Cecily, oh girl of his dreams, in the dingy alley behind the Bronze with the fragrance of dumpster looming in the air never quite factored in as the most romantic spot.

And yet, here she was sucking him off.

Beggars can't be choosers.

He'd never felt anything like it -- the white hot ball of pressure building in his stomach, the beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, just the sight of her...

Eyes screwing shut, Spike opened his mouth and blurted out with a strangled cry, "Oh god...Buffy..."

It took all of two seconds before he realized what'd just slipped out of his mouth:

Oh my god...!

"Oh. My. God!" Cecily was on her feet in an instant, feverishly wiping off her mouth. "You disgusting wanker!"

"Cecily, I didn't mean -- it's not what you think...!"

"She's your sister!"

If you can't make your mind up

We'll never get started

And I don't wanna wind up

Being parted, broken hearted.

"And now for the million dollar question little lady -- do we have a bet?"

"I'm gonna need that five in your hand." A beat. "Oh, and I just can't in good faith."

With a sigh Xander tossed a card in her direction and watched in disgust as Willow happily put down the last of her matches. "I hate this game. One of these days, we're gonna learn how to play something that isn't all the rage in kindergarten classrooms."

"You're just mad because I beat you -- three times in a row."

"Fine," he rolled his eyes, "you are the 'Go Fish' queen. And can we switch out the tunes? I'm getting a little tired of Cake."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm, uh, fine."

Slience...

"Do you wanna watch TV or something?"

"No. Not really."

Slience...

"I think I should go." Snaking a hand out from under the covers, Buffy grabbed her shirt off of the floor.

"Oh," Angel said, wounded. "I can drive you..."

"No need." She flashed him an uncomfortable smile. "I ate a bag of M&Ms at lunch and I feel like a total pig. I could use the walk." Climbing out of bed she added, "Have you seen my underwear?"

Of all the bloody wonderful...!

He was bat-shit insane!

The most popular girl in school, the lead actress in all of his masturbatory fantasies was giving him a blowjob for fuck's sake! And all he could think about was Summers?!

That nasty, little face...

That bouncy shampoo commerical hair...

The holier-than-thou attitude!

The impossible happened! He had this bet practically on lock, and he screwed it up -- for what?!"

The car door slammed loudly in his wake and Spike stalked up the Summers' driveway.

She makes you crazy:

And you rather like the way she makes you crazy.

The door slowly opened and Spike held his breath as he was met with a pair of wide, green eyes.

"Hi, Buffy." Very smooth, you wanker.

Folding her arms over her chest, she frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Brow quirking upward he said, "Well, guess we'll skip the pleasantries then."

"I'm sorry,"she laughed humorlessly, "I'm just surprised to see you without the Cecily attachment on your face."

Spike's face quickly fell. "Oh. You -- you saw that?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, "kinda hard to miss being in public and all."

Head tilting, he looked at her questioningly. "Why are you so upset?"

A scoff. "Upset? I'm not upset. Disgusted? Absolutely." Her eyes narrowed." Upset? You wish."

"Oh, I think you are, pet," Spike drawled, smiling from ear to ear. "Afraid CeCe beat you to the punch?"

"Not even."

"Don't worry," he chuckled, "nothing happened."

"Wow," Buffy began, a nasty smirk curling on her lips, "I guess that means I won."

And without another word or so much as another look in his direction, Buffy closed the door on a very stunned, very wide-eyed, Spike.

So if you really love me

Say yes

But if you don't dear, confess

But please don't tell me

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

To Be Continued...

Friend is a Four Letter Word

"You won?"

Buffy's head was resting comfortably against the front door; she hadn't moved since slamming it in Spike's face for fear the painful twisting going on in her stomach would result in the redecoration of the floor below in colors that only occurred in leftover beef lo mein.

Loudly clearing her throat, Joyce tried again, "Buffy?"

"Mmm?" was the meager reply.

"Who was that at door?"

Forcing the rush of saliva back down her throat, the blonde slowly lifted her head. "No one important..." she said quietly.

Concern marring her features, Joyce took a few steps forward and put a comforting hand on her daughter's shoulder. There were many things her little girl was good at -- lying, fortunately was no where near that list. "What's this about 'winning'?" she asked once more.

Silence was filled in by a great sniff from Buffy, and the girl made a big show of clearing her throat -- hoping against all hope that whatever came out would be devoid of any sort of emotion a mom could pick up and zero in on.

"Some stupid contest at school," Buffy lied through her teeth.

"Don't hold back the excitement on my account." Joyce raised a brow.

Quickly wiping at her face with her sleeve, Buffy straightened and turned to face her mother. "High school's done." She shrugged. "I'm so over stuff like that."

A nod. "Right." Pausing briefly the older woman added, "Well, what are we still standing here for when Mr. Grant is calling to us?"

Forcing a smile, Buffy moved past her heading toward the stairs. "Can you keep Carey company for a little while? I need a shower..." she made a face, "surprise actual P.E.-ing in P.E. today thanks to Cordy's big mouth. Things are kinda ripe in Buffy-land right now."

Joyce chuckled. "Of course."

She hated lying to her mom but honestly, Buffy had been barely functional when she returned home from Angel's and the shock from having Spike on her doorstep so soon after, coupled with that hopelessly wounded look his face when she told him had been the catalyst her Emotional-Breakdown Fairy was looking for.

It was that image she couldn't shake.

Shock she expected, but what was below the surface...

For a moment, Buffy rested against the back of the bathroom door. Eyes screwing shut she vehemently shook her head; no, she wasn't going to do this -- she wasn't going to sit here and analyze every look that bleached idiot had thrown her way. He may not have closed the deal with CeCe, but his feelings as far as she was concerned were perfectly clear.

And now, so were hers.

The Spike feelings were just a bizarr-o crush, a fleeting moment of embarrassing insanity that nearly cost her a deeply committed four-year relationship.

Sniffling again, she dabbed at now misty eyes. "God, I really don't deserve Angel," she said to herself with a heavy sigh.

At least things were now perfectly resolved in her head. Angel loved her and she was kinda sure she felt the same way...

No, not kinda sure! Sure, sure! Absolutely, sure, sure...!

She'd made the right decision --

Without question.

And the tears that were currently streaming down her face were strictly of the 'estacially happy' variety. Buffy was terrified to allow herself to believe otherwise.

Softly closing her bedroom door for a change, Buffy flicked the lightswitch nearby and practically jumped ten feet.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" she spat angrily, desperately clutching the towel to her dripping figure.

Spike rose from his spot on the end of the bed, to his feet and gulped. He'd had something resembling a speech when he got here -- words so perfectly strewn together, sodding Yeats himself would've lept out his grave to praise him for and then Buffy walked in straight from the bath...

Makeup-free,curled, wet hair perfectly framing her face -- that towel... good lord that towel...

She was dazzling.

"How the hell did you get in my room?!" Emerald eyes darted over toward the window before returning their gaze back to him with a new flicker of rage. "God, I'm gonna have to nail that thing shut!"

Spike gave her a withering look. "While you're at it, you might want to chop your mum's crazy hands off -- keep her from answering the door and lettin people up and all."

Buffy's cheeks flamed. Thanks a lot mom. "No need; I'll just get a pitbull to camp out on the porch. Make him watch Billy Idol videos, and Bridget Jones' Diary all day."

That earned her an eye roll.

"Gosh, where has my head been in all of this confusion?" she began, dramatically bringing a hand to her chest. "I'm sorry for being so rude, Spike."

He eyed her questioningly. "Really?"

"Of course, silly!" Buffy said with her best plastic smile. "Instead of greeting you with the promise of a maiming, what I should've said was..." Her features quickly shifted back to the realm of absolutely pissed, "I'm naked, you jackass! Get the hell out of here!"

"I'm not going anywhere." Spike glowered. "Naked or not, you and I need to talk." Tongue curling up behind his front teeth rakishly, he added, "And I have no problem chatting while you slip on something a little less comfortable."

There was that blush again. Spike shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans -- if Summers kept doing that, his mitts were going to grow minds of their own.

"You wish." She smirked nastily.

"Topic the first," Spike said, ignoring the comment, "what bug has nested itself in your ass?"

Brows shot to the top of her head. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't stutter."

"No bug." Buffy shrugged nonchalantly. "Tomorrow's the last day at school. This bet officially got won, tonight. I don't see any reason why we should go on pretending to be friends. We're not," she finished coolly.

Spike managed to ignore the sting of her words and nodded his head. "You're right. We're not friends."

"Exactly," she said quietly.

"And we're never gonna be friends again." Azure eyes locking with hers he began closing the gap between them. "No more best mates, no paling around -- that shit's over and done with; has been for a long time."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Buffy tightened her grip on the only thing that was keeping this situation PG-13. Spike was suddenly close -- a little too close.

She managed to speak. "Good. "We see eye to eye."

A smile slowly formed itself on his lips.

"Yes we do."

And before another word could be uttered or an eyelash could be batted Spike's mouth forcefully descended upon hers. Without a second thought Buffy returned the kiss just as passionately -- not even the pain of her back slamming hard against the door fazed her...

Or the subsequent falling of her towel to the floor below.

To Be Continued...

Disclaimer: And now, a classic Disclaimer...

After getting hit by that truck, I ended up in front of the Pearly Gates, standing before Saint Peter as he weighed the good and the bad things I had done in life. "Ah, very nice Desire, it says that you were a very loyal, giving person, a true friend to those around you." I nodded. "Yeah, I was pretty sweet, huh?" He grumbled a bit, clearing his throat. "What’s this about you stealing from the beloved Joss Whedon?" "I didn’t steal, well, not officially. See, I wrote this story called Again I Go Unnoticed, and I used Joss’ characters. I was only trying to entertain the throngs of internet chica’s who needed to read about our Spike and Buffy finding romantic bliss, because Marti and Joss know not what we know," I said, looking up at Saint Peter, my almond brown eyes shinning brightly. He smiled at me warmly. "Very well my child, you may enter... Wait a minute!" he shouted suddenly. "What’s this about you committing lewd acts with a picture of James Marsters?!"

(Takes a bow) Ah, those were the days.

Author's Note: Because I've been bitten by the Holiday spirit, I wanted to give you guys - the most awesome-est, awesome readers on the planet a gift. And of course, being the poor art-tist that I am, a gift from me can only mean a margianlly good story!

In short: I'm taking requests. I will write anything you want within the Btvs and Ats fandom. Any characters, any pairings (or no pairings at all) and any rating. The only line I'm drawing is at slash - not because I don't enjoy it (I happen to love it), but I've never written it personally, and a first attempt is bound to be comical in the unintentional way.

So, if you would like a story written just for you head over to my Live Journal and post your request in the comment section of the Christmas Fairy entry. If you make an annoymous post, PLEASE leave your email addy so that I can get in touch with you when your fic is all hot off the presses.

Take care guys, and Happy Holidays! Now, on with the show...!

Close Encounters

"Oh Dexter, you're not doing it just to soften the blow? "
 

"No."
 

"Nor to save my face?"
 

"Oh, it's a nice little face."
 

"Oh Dexter, I'll be yar now, I promise to be yar."
 

"Be whatever you like, you're my redhead."

Gingerly, she brought the cup of hot coco closer to her lips; the sweet aroma wafting from the mug caused a contented sigh followed by a giggle of pure happiness. This was the true meaning of serenity. Joyce was sure of it.

Carefully sipping from the mug and munching around tiny marshmallows, Joyce allowed her brain to switch into perfectly happy mode again. The deer and bunnies with their big eyes and catchy songs had returned and were munching on the fresh greens near the plasma screen. And Juan, having foresaken her earlier, was gone and replaced with Swiss Miss - who grinned from ear to ear and poured coco from a clog...

And then as if right on cue came the sound of the door crashing -- wait, no -- amend that, it was the sound of something crashing against the door. Buffy's bedroom door. Where she'd sent William, a tank topped - tight jeaned, William at that, without any second thought whatsoever.

Joyce let out an uneasy laugh."They may have a crush on one another, but Buffy and William would never..." The sentence died on her lips, ending perfect moment number two. The deer and other woodland creatures stopped their frolicking to hand her Sex Ed. pamphlets and the beautiful, Nordic, Swiss Miss dispensed condoms and Ortho Tricyclen instead of gooey marshmallow comfort.

With another sigh (completely contentment free) Joyce climbed to her feet and started toward the stairs.

I won't be winning 'Mother of the Year' any time soon.

There was a moment when Spike almost stopped; when careless thinking had propelled Buffy hard against the bedroom door. So hard, he could've sworn the room shook and the thought he might've hurt her was enough to make his lips stop kissing this girl - no matter how incredible it felt.

Almost.

With one minor shift in his arms, the towel that served as Buffy's death grip on modesty fell to the floor and the primitive, horny caveman part of his being, stomped a mud hole in the ass of the sensitive ponce.

Spike broke the kiss and his eyes, heavy with lust, slowly pried their way open. The sight of stormy, emerald eyes and kiss swollen lips that quivered just a bit -- he nearly choked she was so beautiful. This was Little Buffy Summers who had pigtails and scabbed knees in his best memories and now she was standing before him naked and sporting a look that just mere weeks ago would have been for Angel's eyes only.

"I'm giving you a ring, so now you've gotta marry me," she stated simply. "That's the way this works."

"Maybe I don't wanna marry you." he smirked.

"Oh well," Buffy sighed reaching for the sucker in his hand, "guess you don't like watermelon flavor as much as I thought..."

Dodging her grasping, little fingers, William gave a loud and defeated sigh of his own. "Okay, I'll marry you, you loony bint! What do I have to do?"

When he thought about it, this was oddly fitting. Big, defining first moments in his life always had a habit of involving her in one way or another.

"You've gotta kiss me."

"What?!" he roared.

"It's what married people do, moron." Buffy rolled her eyes.

Tiny shoulders slumped. "Fine." he grumbled. "All of this for a sodding ring pop..."

"On the count of three..." she instructed moving closer.

William nodded and shut his eyes tightly.

"One..."

"Two..." As usual, Buffy jumped the gun taking her friend completely by surprise, when she smashed her lips against his. Five seconds later her mouth was gone, turned up into a crooked smile as she shoved the ring onto the finger of a blushing William.

"There," she beamed, "now, my mom says by California law, I own half of all of your stuff."

Even if he tended to discount one incident, simply because there was no tongue and they were seven.

With one arm wrapped possessively around her waist, Spike smiled as he carefully guided her toward the bed.

Absolutely fitting...

"Buffy...! William...!"

The sound of Joyce's voice coming from the stairwell was like being doused with ice cold spray from a shower and the two instantly broke apart.

Giving herself a once over, Buffy suddenly became very aware of how not-clothed she was,

"Oh, god."

Hand shaking uncontrollably as she reached out for the doorknob, Joyce tried her hardest to mentally prepare herself for what she was potentially about to walk in on.

Breath hitching in her throat as she turned the knob and pushed Joyce's eyes widened:

"Whitman, Emerson, an Thoreau are the most well known of the writers to come out of the Transcendetalist movement..." Spike read aloud from a textbook, looking up he smiled. "Oh, hi, Joyce."

"Hey, mom." A fully clothed Buffy beamed at her mother from the safety of her desk chair. "Something wrong?"

Joyce's mouth opened and closed for a moment. "No," she finally said shaking her head. "I just thought you guys might want to take a study break and come watch a movie with me."

Spike was smiling so hard he expected his lips to crack and bleed at any second. "That sounds like fun! Doesn't that sound like fun, Buffy?"

Buffy nodded. "Tons! We'll be down in a few -- kinda want to finish up here, you know how I love those Transcendetalists. Poetry about blades of grass and tree bark -- it's all so exciting."

Joyce exchanged a look from one to the other. They were a safe distance apart, no clothing seemed askew, and school books were present...

She wasn't stupid.

"Tree bark'll still be here after one movie." Pausing she added with a pathetic look, "C'mon, make an old woman happy."

With a tiny groan the teens made their way over to her and Joyce slipped an arm around their shoulders as she guided them out of the door."You're both gonna love Operation Petticoat. I can feel it." she grinned.

To Be Continued...

The Queen of Avoidance

Something was off. He knew it.

From the utter shock and surprise on her face when she found him standing on her doorstep that morning, to the blistering silence in the car that followed – Angel knew without a doubt that all was not right in his relationship.

And it scared the piss out of him.

Way back when he first stumbled into puberty and found himself subjected to his father’s “special man talks” and atomically correct puppets; Angel formed the belief that sex, when done for all of the right reasons, brought a couple closer together. It cemented their love. Stated their commitment and loads of other fairy tale bull shit.

And yet, here was Buffy with her attention completely focused on the blur of houses outside of the Mustang window.

Not so much as a glance thrown in his direction since he’d lamely ended a stilted conversation about how morning radio DJ’s should “just shut up and play music”; and he’d long exacerbated every, single topic that didn’t focus on the fears currently burning in his mind:

You regret what happened yesterday, don’t you?

We’re over, aren’t we?

But, decided to try his luck anyway – at the very least get her talking.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She actually looked at him and smiled. “You sound like my mom.”

Angel laughed, albeit, nervously. “I scream today’s forty-something woman.”

Silence won out again as Angel swung the hot, red, little car into Sunnydale High’s senior parking lot; and the moment they were safely parked in the usual spot, Buffy wasted no time popping open the passenger door.

The sound of Jimmy Choo heels on gravel was like a dagger to his gut.

“Sorry to dash, but I’ve got Anders’ final first thing and I want to get in some serious cram time,” Buffy rambled absently as she straightened out her mini.

“Look at you,” he began finally opening his own door, “Study Girl.”

She grinned. “Imagine, you pick up books, open them, and then you learn things. Such a concept.” Reaching in to snatch her prized Marc Jacobs bag from the floor board, Buffy added, “Besides, failing miserably is so last year.”

And before his feet could touch the pavement, Buffy was gone – heading toward the school, with more purpose in her stride than he’d ever seen.

Oh god. It was official.

She was the most horrible person on the face of the earth. Osama? Nope. Sadaam? Uh, uh. Ben Affleck? Okay, a close second, but she Buffy Anne Summers took home the crown for being the most thoughtless, heartless, bitch to ever exist.

She’d cheated on Angel.

She’d cheated on Angel with Spike of all people!

She’d gone to sleep and had tons of lusty, NC-17 types of dreams the result of which found her waking up a full hour earlier than she normally would for the soul purpose of bringing herself off (twice in bed and four times in the bath thanks to the massager shower head). Of course not one of the late-night fantasies involved her boyfriend.

And then Angel shows up to give her a ride to school as if everything is perfectly normal and fine. As if she could look him in the face without feeling a pit of guilt welling up in the depths of her stomach. As if she could muster the courage to talk to him – the important kind of talking she deftly avoided by staring out of the window.

Buffy pulled the Chemistry book out of her locker and headed down the hall, ignoring the excited chatter going on around her.

“Oh, my god! Did you hear about Cecily and Riley?!”

“He totally cheated on her with Cordelia...!”

Her eyebrow quirked at the sound of that one, and she shook her head. “I’ve got enough to worry about,” Buffy muttered to herself before she was unceremoniously shoved into the girls restroom.

“What the fuck....!”

Green eyes flashed red until they finally recognized the bespeckled blue pair in front of them, and Buffy attempted to look as annoyed as possible. “What the hell are you doing?”

Spike gave her an infuriating smirk. “No, ‘good morning’ or ‘nice to see you’?”

“Since when has it ever been nice to see you?” she shot back with the most sarcastic of grins on her face..

“You wound me, Buffy,” he said dramatically bringing a hand over his heart. “Really, with this type of language, I’m almost inclined to think that you’re not completely turned on by my animal magnetism.”

That got him a snort.

“Are you seriously damaged?!”

“Then what was last night?”

“My one and only experimentation with crack.” Buffy smiled sweetly. “I’m ‘Just Say No’ girl from now on.” A beat, “And you are aware we’re in the girl’s bathroom, right? Cause you having a penis – kinda denies you access there, buddy.”

Spike huffed with a shake of his head. “Should’ve known you’d do this...”

“Do what?” she seemed truly offended.

“I mean, I am dealing with the bloody queen of avoidance here, why did I expect anything different.”

“Queen of avoidance?!” Buffy scowled at him. “I am not...”

“Oh, please, Summers!” he cut her off. “You’re standing here acting as if nothing happened!”

Scowl never wavering, she managed to swallow the lump in her throat. “As far as I’m concerned, nothing did happen.”

Spike let out a growl, the likes of which Buffy had never heard come out of anything human and looked like he was ready to take her head off, but she’d had no choice. Her foot had to come down, and come down hard.

She wasn’t going to be one of those people who couldn’t be trusted in a relationship. Angel deserved a faithful, committed girlfriend. Someone totally devoted, that would never even think of cheating on him and she was going to be all of those things for him, if it killed her –

And then Spike had to go grab her and smash his lips against hers.

Oh. Well, fuck.

Feet awkwardly skidded across the tiled floor, ending up in the nearest tiny stall; and with her back against the door, kissing him for all it was worth, Buffy instinctually wrapped a leg around Spike’s waist.

“Mmph...boyfriend...have...I,” she mumbled against his lips.

“That’s nice,” he mumbled back.

Fever and desperation subsiding, the two concentrated on slowing things down – aggressive licks and nips gave way to methodically slow tasting. And while one hand rested on the taut skin of her thigh the other was able to boldly make its way under her skirt.

She gasped into his mouth, not so much from the shock of his move, but from the sudden realization that no matter what, things would never be the same between them. No longer a best friend and far from an enemy...

There was another gasp when Spike began rubbing her gently through her panties; the gasp soon gave way to a full moan, (surprising the both of them) when the underwear was pulled to the side and a finger slid in.

Breaking the kiss for the first time, Spike took a moment, resting his forehead against hers and managed to smile.

But, the sound of the toilet flushing in the next stall over quickly killed the moment.

Dammit!

Anya inwardly cursed herself. While she thanked god for the unbelievable bathroom timing, her need to pee had won out over listening to some couple go at it in the next stall.

Oh, well.

It was probably just Riley and Cordelia, and who didn’t know about that.

To Be Continued...

Future Imperfect

“I can’t believe this!” Mr. Giles beamed looking from the test sheet in his hand to the two teens sitting before him.

“Non-believing in a good way, right?” Buffy asked. When she didn’t get an answer, she squeaked, “Right!”

“Oh,” the councilor chuckled, smiling sheepishly, “right. A very good way, Ms. Summers. I knew you had a first-rate mind, I just never expected you to pull an ‘A’ minus. Fantastic work – the both of you.”

Buffy could feel Spike’s eyes on her and she slumped further down in her chair to avoid his gaze. Her plan to treat Spike as if he were a carrier of the ebola virus was rapidly crumbling; oh sure after yesterday morning’s bathroom antics (that both her conscience and libido unallowed her to forget) sidestepping the Brit was easy. Finals kept them from crossing paths all day, and at the sound of the last bell she’d darted to Angel’s car in record time.

The ‘ignore’ feature on her cell and a stern warning to her mother kept her from having to hear his voice once she made it home. Unfortunately, sleep was a human need and though he wasn’t there in the physical sense, Spike was very much present when she closed her eyes. Really, at this rate, she was going to break the shower massager.

And then came the call from Mr. Giles to come up to the school to discuss her graduating status.

Frowning slightly, Buffy cleared her throat and refocused her attention back on the tweed clad-monkeywrench in Operation Avoid!Spike.

“Does this mean I’m officially ‘cap and gown’ girl?”

Mr. Giles nodded. “Yes, Ms. Summers. You are cleared to participate in tomorrow night’s graduation ceremonies.”

“Cool,” Buffy exclaimed climbing to her feet. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat but I gotta tell my mom to FedEx those invitations after all,” she chuckled.

“Wait, just a second,” Giles said digging through the cluttered mess on his desk. Stacking five packets, he handed them over to her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of sending your SAT scores to a few schools.” He smiled softly. “Best of luck.”

“Morning to you too, Princess!”

With teeth gritting, Buffy stopped just shy of Sunnydale High’s main double doors and turned around to glare. “God, do you hate me!”

“What?” Spike asked confusedly as he caught up to her.

“Seriously, do you hate me!” she shouted. “Is it like your life’s goal to see me miserable...!”

He cocked a brow. “Not at the moment.”

“Boyfriend. Beau. Flame. Significant other. Paramour. Steady – whatever you want to call it, I have one!”

“I never said you didn’t.” Spike smirked.

“And yet, there you are!” she threw her hands up in the air exasperated. “With your lips and your eyes – camping out in my bedroom, knocking me into the girls restroom, calling my phone and then with the furtive looks in Mr. Giles’s office...! Every time I turn around! Every time I close my eyes – there you are!”

“Every time you close your eyes...?” He eyed her curiously.

Ignoring the comment, Buffy continued, “What happened between us, Spike, will never happen again. Get that through your thick, bleached head! I’ve gotten off the meds; I know exactly who I want to be with and there’s no part of you that factors into that equation!” Her eyes locked onto his. “Understand!”

“Ow!”

Spike grinned sheepishly as she rubbed the sore spot on the back of her head,

“Sorry, luv.”

Looking up at him from her rather uncomfortable position smashed against the right-side passenger door in the Volvo’s backseat, Buffy playfully smacked him on the shoulder.

“Overzealous bastard,” she giggled before grabbing his shirt and yanking him down on her lips.

Buffy’d honestly meant what she’d said – her mind was made up and Angel came out the clear winner on all sides as far as the sensible part of her being was concerned. But, on her way to the senior parking lot to wait patiently for Joyce’s SUV to swing in, Good!Sensible!Buffy was beaten to a bloody pulp with the bluntest of objects by Evil!Idiotic!Buffy and before she could blink, she was being yanked into the backseat of a car she wouldn’t have been caught dead in a mere three weeks ago.

Furious kissing (that resulted in lump number three on the back of her head) gave way to painstakingly slow making out. For someone who’d been afraid of ‘the bloody kissing’, Spike had caught on rather quickly – matching her licks and nips. With a little nibble on her bottom lip, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.

“Got any more speeches about how this is ‘bad’ and ‘wrong’, Princess?”

Green eyes rolled heavenward. “I’m speechless.”

“This isn’t just a thing that’s going to go away any time soon, Buffy,” he said softly bringing a hand up to caress her cheek.

A rueful smile. “I know.”

Sighing heavily, he dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It’d be easier if you weren’t in my gut; I wouldn’t even dream of asking you to choose between me and Hairgel for Brains.”

Buffy gave him a look. “Hairgel for Brains I mean, Angel doesn’t deserve this...”

“Then make a choice,” Spike stated simply. “At some point, you’ve gotta make a decision about your future, Summers.”

“Gee, my future seems to be a big topic of discussion for today. How keen.”

He smiled. “You mean, Mr. Giles? Did you at least look at those school packets he gave you?”

“In what universe were you not glued to my face,” Buffy snorted.

“Oh. Right.” he grinned sheepishly.

“I dunno...” she shrugged, “I don’t really want to think about the future right now. Consider it ‘future imperfect’. I’m future-free.” With a coy smile she added, “So, would you mind if I pushed all of this other stuff aside and just concentrated on the kissing you?”

Spike smiled leaning in to capture her lips with his own.

“Don’t mind at all.”

To Be Continued...

Interlude: Take it to the Backseat

The moment Joyce pulled her gas-guzzling SUV into the Sunnydale High main parking lot her heart was filled with immense pride.

Of course she knew for a fact that Buffy was not some grating ditz with a credit card and a steady breeze between her ears. She had raised an amazingly intelligent and resourceful girl, who if she applied herself, would go on to do great things in this world. Unfortunately, Buffy also had the attention span of a gnat, so hearing she was failing Literature wasn’t exactly the biggest of surprises.

This last month with the help of William, Buffy had far exceeded her expectations when it came to buckling down and putting herself back into her school work. And, tomorrow Joyce would get to watch her only child, her baby girl walk across that stage and accept her diploma.

Watch her make that giant leap into adulthood.

But, right now Joyce was watching said baby girl heatedly make out with William in the backseat of his beat-up Volvo; and her once immense pride had slowly dissipated into meager happiness.

Biting her lip, the older woman tapped loudly on the passenger window. The third knock proved to be the charm and Joyce practically chewed the inside of her mouth raw to keep from laughing when Buffy violently shoved Spike off of her and he tumbled to the floor in a bleached heap.

“Mom!” Buffy shrieked, wide-eyed as she quickly opened the door.

“Sorry I’m late.” Joyce smirked.

“This is not what it looks like – Spike and I were...”

“Looking for my contact,” Spike interjected, crawling out of the car behind Buffy. “Slippery bugger’s always popping out,” he laughed nervously.

A snicker. “You’re wearing glasses, William.”

“Because he lost his contacts!” Buffy gave her mom a look. “Weren’t you paying attention?” Turning to Spike, she added, “You should really think about writing FreshLook. I mean this is like the fifth time your contacts have turned up missing – I would think they would want to be informed of a defective product.”

He nodded. “You’re very right, Buffy. They’ll be getting an angry letter from me,” Spike said sending a toothy smile in Joyce’s direction before reaching in the car and pulling out the stack of college packets. “Wouldn’t want you to forget these.” He sent another grin at the elder Summers’. “Education is a high priority of mine.”

Slumped against the passenger door, Buffy focused her gaze out of the Explorer’s window because watching trees and houses fly by at thirty-five miles an hour was the only way the blonde teen knew how to avoid the standard mom-smirk.

One green-colored eye decided to rove in Joyce’s direction and was met briefly with her shining, pearly whites.

Oh, for fuck’s sake...

“Decide to grow up any time soon, mom.”

Joyce gasped with mock innocence. “What did I do...?”

Buffy groaned.

“I’m just sitting here quietly driving and my daughter snaps on me all of a sudden.” Pausing, she added with a devilish grin. “Silly me for thinking your lips wouldn’t be in working order for another eight hours.”

“Okay!” The teen threw her hands up in the air. “Lets go ahead and get it all out! Ooh! Buffy kisses boys! Ooh! She has cooties!” she said in a sing-song voice.

Joyce grinned. “I never said anything about ‘cooties’.”

“You’re an evil woman.”

That got a laugh.

“So, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that there’s no ‘friend’ and ‘big, dumb, stupid guy’ is code for William?”

Glancing sidelong, Buffy looked grimly at her mother. “You saw right through my smokescreen, huh?”

Amused, Joyce nodded.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Buffy added quickly.

“Of course.”

“We’ve never been one’s for international coffees moments, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Good. We see eye to eye, then.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

Bottom lip jutting out, Buffy folded her arms over her chest before heaving a great sigh, “You gave birth to the worse person, ever, mom.”

Joyce smiled sympathetically. “Somehow, I can’t believe that, Buffy.”

“Right,” the teen snickered, “well, you have to say stuff like that – you are my life-giver or whatever. If you knew what I’ve done in the past couple days, you’d...” She stopped mid-sentence giving her mom a sheepish look. “I guess you kinda have a good idea, what with the free show in the backseat and all.”

“I’d say so.”

A sigh. “See? Horrible.”

“You are not horrible.”

“Again, with the me being a parasite in your womb for nine months, you’re a little biased.”

“When I was maybe about sixteen or so, I had a steady boyfriend named Scott who was just the be all to end all to me...”

Buffy’s lip quirked upward. “And I thought you were all about Andy Gibb back in the day.”

Giving her a look but ignoring the comment, Joyce continued, “Well, the junior prom rolls around and of course Scott and I arrive together in all of our powder blue taffeta glory...”

“Puffy sleeves?”

She nodded grimly. “Puffy sleeves. But, about halfway into the night, I noticed your father standing across the room.”

“This story isn’t going to end in a way that’ll leave me in serious need of therapy, will it?” Buffy asked, horrified.

“I ditched Scott and lost my bra in the backseat of your dad’s Camaro.” Joyce grinned.

The teen’s hands shot to her hears. “Oh my god!”

Joyce laughed.

“This is your idea of helping!”

“Feelings change and as long as your honest with them both about what you want and who you want, there’s no reason to beat yourself up.”

Buffy nodded and after a long moment of silence said,

“But, I don’t know what or who I want.” She sighed heavily. “There’s no funny ‘mom loses her bra’ story to help me out with that one, is there?”

Glancing in her daughter’s direction, Joyce laid a gentle hand on her knee.

“Nope. I don’t have one of those.”

Another sigh,

“Darn.”

Apocalypse Now-ish

So, Cecily’s having this thing tonight – sort of a pre-grad party, party…

If you’d asked her four years ago what her pre-graduation party plans would consist of, there was a very good chance Buffy’s answer would have fallen somewhere in the realm of jello shots and lounging around Cecily’s pool – with jello shots.

Any excuse to break into ‘Mummy’s’ schnapps.

“Ooh! Steel Magnolias! I haven’t seen this movie in years!”

Amused, Buffy cocked an eyebrow. Willow practically bouncing in the middle of Blockbuster while trying to sell her on the idea that watching Julia Roberts die would in fact heighten the ‘party mood’ “Pretend like it’s…America’s Sweethearts” was oddly making her extremely grateful for how much things had changed.

“Wills, can we go for something a little more upbeat?” she chuckled, turning to eyeball the rows of dvd’s behind her. “Lets say, something that’s diabetes free. You know, just for kicks.”

With a pout, Willow shoved the video back on the shelf. “What’s so wrong about diabetes?” And off of her friend’s look, quickly added, “Lets pretend I didn’t just say that.”

A snicker. “Completely forgotten.”

“I still think you’re breaking the cardnal rule of chick-flick night, by ruling out the namesake…”

And, I’m taking that to mean you don’t want to go.

Sure, when you stupidly put them side-by-side a debauched crowd of popular kids and copious amounts of illegal substances sounded infinitely more exciting than a vid-night, vegging in front of the plasma screen…

Well, then you’d be taking it right…wait, that came out wrong. After everything that’s gone down with Cordelia and Riley, I know Cecily’s looking for a sturdy shoulder to cry on and as bad as it sounds, I’m just not up to being that girl right now, Angel. My idea of party at the moment, involves cucumber slices over my eyes and mouthing Ione Sky’s dialogue in Say Anything.

“I’m not ruling out the genre as a whole,” Buffy informed her absently while skimming the back summary of a dvd, “just drawing the line at anything aired on Lifetime every Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

Then, I’ll skip the party and come over to your place. Heh, I do a great Lloyd Dobbler.

Willow shook her head. “Okay, okay,” she sighed, defeated. “I’m thinking ‘happy’ and ‘upbeat’.”

No – don’t forego your good time because I’m all party-pooped. You should go. Have fun, and drink lots of daiquiri type things for me.

Buffy smiled. “Good.”

“From here on out, I’m picking up nothing but the perkiest of the perky.” She nodded firmly. “I’m a perky, little puppy.”

“Damn straight you are. If you haven’t seen Kingpin, we’re definitely getting it…”

“Ooh, Beaches!”

Buffy shot Willow a look. “…And that line begins and ends with Bette Midler.”

But, when you’d both been there, done that, and owned the ‘Drink ‘till he’s cute’ T-shirt, partying hardy with the likes of Cecily Holmes just didn’t carry that much weight any longer.

Besides, jello shots weren’t that great anyway.

Angel plucked America’s Sweethearts off of the shelf, adding it to the mini-collection of John Cusack movies in his hand. Yeah, Buffy had insisted he go to Cecily’s and have a good time – gave what seemed like an endless spiel about not wanting to stop him from finding the fun,

She would be fine.

She just wanted to be home.

She just wants to be anywhere you aren’t…

Rounding the corner, he scanned the dvd shelves and and found a copy of Better of Dead. He was getting scarily good at shutting out that big, bad part of his brain. The part that wanted him to face the fact he and Buffy were growing farther and farther apart after sharing something that should’ve brought them closer than ever.

Serendipity was the last of his choices and Angel headed toward the checkout counter with the soul purpose of saving his relationship anyway he could.

There was a heated debate over the hotness of Colin Farrell and whether or not to give into the cliché and braid each other’s hair, when the phone rang:

“Hello?” Buffy answered, stuffing her mouth full of popcorn.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Xander?” she asked while casually digging out another buttery handful of PopSecret.

A sigh. “Wha – how’d you know it was me!”

Green eyes rolled heavenward. “A) Only you would be that lame and B) the combination of caller ID and custom Beyonce ringtone are a dead giveaway.”

“All of this newfangled technology,”he ‘tsked’, “did they ever stop to think about what this would do to the hopes of future prank callers everywhere?”

“Maybe, in between cashing that first million,” Buffy snickered.

“Don’t mock, I’m watching a beloved pastime slip-away here.”

“Sorry.”

“And, Beyonce…!” he began sounding truly offended, “thanks for assigning a tone to my number that was just south of completely gay.” A beat, “Your bastardization of my manhood aside, Buff, could you maybe open the window? This tree’s not good for the sittin’. I’m starting to get a cramp.”

Passing the bowl back to Willow, Buffy climbed to her feet with a sigh, “ ‘This is gonna be so much fun – just us girls’,” she mocked good –naturedly.

Wills laughed sheepishly. “Heh, I might’ve mentioned something about our vid-night in passing…”

“Mmm-hmm.” Buffy threw her a look over her shoulder as she let up the window.

“He practically forced me to invite him! It’s not my fault Xander has a hard time bonding with anything that has a penis.”

“No, I don’t!” the boy shrieked as he climbed inside of the bedroom. “I happen to bond very well with penises!” Pausing, Xander scrunched up his face. “Wait, that…”

Buffy cut him off with a snort. “And you wonder why I picked the Beyonce ringtone.”

“Funny,” he said, flopping down next to Willow. “I’m choosing to ignore that simply because we’ve got…” he made a dramatic show of checking the Tweetie Bird watch adorning his wrist, “ten hours and fifty-six minutes until we officially kiss Sunnydale High a longer overdue ‘goodbye’. And, to tie us over until that special – special occasion, Spike and I brought plenty-o-vid that should keep us up all night…”

At that very moment, Buffy felt all of the air go out of the room. “Spike’s here?” That’s funny, I don’t remember my voice being a pitch only dog’s can hear…

“Uh-huh,” Xander said as he stuffed his mouth full of popcorn. “Blondie-bear’s bringing in the movies after he finishes his cigarette. You guys are gonna love our picks – very chick friendly.”

Willow smirked. “Hate to break it to ya, Xand, but Apocalypse Now – isn’t Terms of Endearment in Nam.”

He added with a shake of his head, “The Chicago Tribune gave it a three hanky warning! That one guy’s love affair with napalm alone will bring a tear to your eye.”

A cigarette butt hit the toe of Angel’s shoe; tiny embers broke off leaving a smudge of gray ash across the otherwise black sneaker. Setting the bag in his hand to the side, he absently bent down to brush the flakes off and barely noticed the pair of dingy, Doc Martens in front of him.

Cocking his head to the side, Spike grinned lazily. “Well, fancy meeting you here.”

To be Continued…