Part XVII

In his dreams he was with her. She was his and he hers and there was no one else. Every kiss, every touch of her lips or her fingertips sent a jolt of electricity through his body. Her hazel eyes were always filled with her love for him, the love he had always desired to see in a lover's eyes.

He staggered away as he saw her predatory gaze ravage his body. Never had he imagined that she would see him like this, as a lover, wholly and completely.

He bit his lip when her hand cupped his angular cheek. He stifled a groan when she leaned forward and darted her tongue out to catch the moisture from his lips. She traced their every curve and he fought to control his desire to devour her on the spot. No, he would let her lead, knowing that wherever she went he would follow even after all these years.

Her small hands, hands that carried so much strength, gripped his erection with a gentleness that shook him. Her delicate fingers worked him through the fabric of his thin pants.

"Buffy," he moaned as his hand found her trim waist. Her strokes became more demanding and her tongue flitted in and out of his mouth. His hips pushed forward of their own volition and his hand fell to her small yet supple bottom.

"Spike, my love," she moaned into his mouth as her breathless pants increased. Her teasing tongue became demanding and she thrust it into his mouth. Spike almost coughed at her commanding urgency.

"Buffy," Spike whimpered as her hands pressed against his chest, "Buffy, God, I love you."

"Spike, my love," she said again and pressed him more urgently with her hands. "Spike, wake up."

"Spike, wake up," Buffy whispered to her former lover. After her crying fit of last night, they had fallen asleep on the floor, not quite nestled together like the night before but their hands had been intertwined. It had only been her second night of contented sleep in the last six months and, ironically, both nights had been by the side of the man that lay in front of her.

The same man that had woken her up with gentle yet probing hands.

"Spike," Buffy repeated to no avail. His insistent hands were firmly grasping her butt and though she wanted him to stop, it wasn’t because she didn’t want to feel his touch. On the contrary, it was taking all of her willpower not to return his affectionate caresses…

"Buffy," he whimpered as he pulled her flush against his body. She gasped at the erection that poked against her stomach and unintentionally dug her nails into his chest.

"Bloody hell," Spike yelped and jumped back. Buffy swallowed a giggle at the look of shock etched across his features.

"Are you awake now?" She asked all too brightly and laughed at Spike's scowl.

"Well, my eyes 're open, aren't they?" He huffed and rolled onto his stomach. Of course, when he did so, he was made distinctly aware at just how awake he truly was.

Buffy saw Spike's eyes widen and the flush of he cheeks. She scrunched her face up in confusion until she saw him wiggle his hips as if to…

"And to think," She said, smirking, "I didn’t do anything."

Spike cocked his head to the side and stared at Buffy, hoping against hope that she wasn't talking about what she thought he was because, for some reason, he was feeling quite sheepish this morning.

Well, that wish strikes out lookin', he thought as her upturned lips gave away the fact that she knew exactly what his 'problem' was.

"As if," he muttered and groaned when Buffy laughed again.

"'As if'?" She asked incredulously. "Did you just say 'as if'?"

"Yeah," he responded defensively, "what of it?"

"Well, nothing really." She rolled over to her back and clasped her fingers together behind her head as she looked at the ceiling. "It's just that, I don’t know, what with the whole Alicia Silverstone thing, I think you have officially waived your right to be referenced as the 'Big Bad' ever again."

Spike groaned and buried his face into the carpet. Buffy laughed again and pulled her legs up, crossing the right over the left. Her leg bounced up and down for several minutes before Spike risked another glance at his love.

Cor, she's beautiful, he thought as his eyes took in the wonderful sight of a joyful Buffy. Though she still wore the same clothes from the day before, her soulful glow was unmistakable. Her gray blouse clung to her breasts and bunched just enough to show off her taut belly. As her leg bobbed back and forth, the slit on the side of her long skirt gave the peroxide blonde a good peek at Buffy’s tanned legs. But her smile was what drew most of his attention. That and her sparkling eyes made Spike couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about that made her so happy, especially after the tears she had spilled the night before.

Almost instantly, Spike's thoughts flickered to his abrupt wake up at the hands of the slayer. He had obviously been acting out the dream he had been having and Buffy had taken exception to that. He smiled to himself before a sliver of fear bloomed in his stomach as the memories of that one, horrible night bled into his mind. Buffy struggling against his insistent hands as she begged him to stop. The look of terror and betrayal written all over her face as she held her tattered robe to her chest.

"Ask me again why I could never love you." As her words drifted through his mind, Spike bit his cheek, drawing blood. The sting behind his eyes only intensified the anguish growing in his belly and Spike knew that he couldn’t contain his grief much longer.

"Buffy?" He whispered and closed his eyes when she turned toward him. Won't do any good for her to see me about to crack up, he thought and took several steadying breaths.

"Yeah?" Buffy answered. She had been lost in the feel of being against Spike, of their hands laced together during the night, cherishing the safety she felt in being so close to him. She knew he felt it too and that's why, now, she stared at him in trepidation, knowing there was something wrong.

"I didn’t…I didn’t 'urt you, did I?" he asked furtively.

"What do you mean? Hurt me when?" She stared at him intently, as if she could will him to open his eyes so she could see what he was thinking but they remained closed.

"This mornin'. When you tried to wake me. I didn’t 'urt you…I wasn't 'urtin' you was I?" Buffy's heart burned at the fear behind his words and, before she could think about it, she leaned over and kissed him chastely on the lips.

Spike’s eyes widened in surprise at the tender gesture and when Buffy pulled away, he brought his fingers to his lips, wonder clearly etched in his features.

“No,” Buffy said after a few minutes, “you didn’t hurt me.” Spike sighed at her admission, and returned her smile tentatively before relaxing once more against his hands.

They lay there in silence for the better part of an hour, both lost in a legion of thoughts that they both wanted and needed to share with the other. But they were both afraid; afraid of breaking the contented atmosphere that had formed around them and afraid of the answers their questions would receive. No, it would be better to indulge on the peaceful repose awhile longer because, God knows, it wouldn’t last.

“Buffy?” Spike ventured at last. His tone was quiet and unsure and it sounded to Buffy like the voice of a shy poet, a man out of his own time.

“Yeah?” her response was equally timid, as a part of her instinctively knew what he was going to say.

“What…what did you say to Garrett last night?” Sighing reflexively, Buffy rolled onto her side in order to face the peroxide blonde. At her unspoken behest, he turned his head toward her and when their eyes met, both could taste the other’s uncertainty and heartache, a bitter wine they had both become familiar with during the long years.

“Spike, I really don’t know where to begin,” Buffy admitted and swallowed the tears that crawled behind her eyes.

“What about the beginning?” He offered and she smiled at the support that glistened between his words.

“Well, I was born…”

“Buffy,” Spike warned playfully.

“Fine, fine. Sheesh. Mr. Spoilsport,” she muttered, rolling her eyes before the seriousness of her talk with Garrett took over.

Spike saw the hesitancy in Buffy’s gaze, the weight of the situation heavy on her thin shoulders and he reached his hand out to her. She stared at it for a few seconds before reaching hers out and grasping it. It was automatic how their fingers interlaced and Buffy took a moment admire the near perfection of the pose. When she looked up, she saw Spike doing the same thing though there was a trace of confusion marring his sculpted features. It didn’t take long before Buffy realized what it was but before she could say anything, Spike lips curled into an almost imperceptive smile before he returned his attention back to her hazel eyes.

Well, that’s not quite how I wanted to start out, she mused humorlessly. But I guess we have to start somewhere.

“Yeah, about that,” she said and turned her ring-less finger over in his hand.

“What happened?” Though he couldn’t help but feel ecstatic, Spike also felt a sense of guilt about the whole thing. She had obviously called off the engagement and he was happy about that but he knew it hurt her to do it. Moreover, Garrett had proven to be a right decent bloke and Spike would never wish such a heartbreak on any man in love.

Well, maybe Angel, he thought amusedly before focusing back on his blonde spitfire. Not yours yet, mate, he reminded himself and used his other hand to stroke Buffy’s disheveled locks.

"I gave him back the ring," she said, "as you can obviously see. I-I really had no choice."

"Why?"

"Because," she said as if the word explained it all. She dropped her gaze at the intensity of Spike's cerulean jewels. There was so much hope staring back at her that Buffy almost faltered at what she had to say.

"Because, I wasn’t being fair to him. To be honest, I haven't been fair to him for the past six months."

"I thought you were happy."

"I was. It's just that," she sighed in frustration. "It's just that one day I was fine and then, the next…it was just like something wasn't right.

"Even then, I fought it and said yes when he proposed. I just thought it was jitters about being so close to someone and expecting them to leave, so I shook it off. It wasn’t until two months ago that I could no longer ignore the feeling. Took all of about two hours to realize that it had to do with you.

"After I figured out that my unease had to do with you, it didn’t take long for me to understand that, at the very least, it had to do with our lack of closure. I was still harboring a lot of feelings about you. Some good, some bad, but most of it was a jumbled cluster fuck."

"Cluster fuck?" He arched an eyebrow at her amusedly.

"I watch those army movies sometimes," she said defensively. They both chuckled before she regained her confidence.

"Anyway, I just didn’t know what I wanted to do. I had already admitted to myself that you were important to me but just how important I didn’t know." Still don’t know, she added silently.

"So that's why you went to Peaches? Cause you knew he could find me."

"Yeah. And let me tell you, not fun in the least."

"I remember you tellin' me." Spike smiled at Buffy and the petite blonde shivered at the sincerity of his upturned lips.

"Yeah, well, you know the rest."

"Yeah, I do. Everything except last night, luv."

"Of course," Buffy sighed, "last night."

"Buffy, if you…"

"No," Buffy interrupted, "I owe you this much. Hell, I owe him this much." The cramping in her stomach that had gradually increased since she had begun speaking clamped over her abdomen with a brutal intensity. She wished she could call a timeout to catch her breath but that would not be possible. Suck it up, Slayer, she encouraged herself and decided to continue without any more excuses.

"I told him about the other night during patrol when we--you know."

"Oh, I know all right. So, what did Garrett the Gray say?"

"What would you say?"

"Somethin' not appropriate for your delicate ears, luv."

"What-the-freak ever. Anyway, I even told him that you were the one that stopped it all. Needless to say, he was really hurt by that. I didn’t want to tell him but I knew that I had to be truthful about it."

"So what happened afterwards?"

"It got a bit intense. You know how I can be when I get mad. He said something I didn’t like and I hit him." The last words were a mere whisper and Buffy cringed when she saw Spike wince, the former vamp no doubt remembering some of the times she had done the same to him. Shame coursed through Buffy at the memories and the tears she had kept at bay made their presence known. It wasn’t until Spike cupped her cheek that she risked a look at her former lover.

"Did you apologize to him?" He asked softly, surprising Buffy with the question.

"Yeah, I did. Afterwards, we talked about you. More specifically, what I felt. About you."

Spike arched an eyebrow. "Me? What about?"

"He asked if--if I was in love with you."

*&*

At Buffy's words my heart sputters to a complete stop for a millisecond. That is, of course, until it starts up again at a right violent pace. My mind careens out of control as I remember how, at one time, I had been sure that Buffy loved me. Of course, that particular fantasy of mine quickly turned into my greatest shame.

I know that Buffy cares deeply for me. Hell, wouldn't 'ave asked for Peaches to track me down like a soddin' bloodhound if she didn’t. So, yeah, I think she may love me. And a right lucky bloke I am for that. But in love with me? Not so sure 'bout that. Hell, who am I kiddin'? I won't even entertain that thought. Can't afford to if I 'ave to settle for bein' friends.

I shake my head, hoping that it will clear the emotional fog blanketing my thoughts but to no avail. Everything’s still as muddled as before though I do finally regain my ability to speak.

“He asked you that?” My voice is unsteady but I don’t care. Buffy nods and I glance at our still entwined fingers. I don’t even know how I get the next question out but when it comes out, my breath catches in my lungs as I wait for her to reply.

“What…what did you say?” As the words leave my mouth, Buffy stiffens and her grip on my fingers intensifies uncomfortably though I push it aside.

“I…I told you…” She trails off and my heart cascades into the pit of my stomach. Her hesitation can only mean one thing; she may not be engaged but she doesn’t want to be with me, either.

“Spike, I…” she hesitates again and I try to give her my best smile though I don’t think she falls for it.

“You don’t have to say it, luv. I know you care for me and all, but it’s just not that way is it?” Her mouth gapes open but before she can reply, I cut her off. “ ‘S’not like I deserve it, either, that’s for damn sure. Doesn’t matter what you said anyway. What matters is that you get what you want, what you deserve. And that’s happiness.”

“But that’s just the thing, Spike. I have no clue what I want. I mean, yeah I gave him back the ring and officially broke off the engagement and everything but what does that mean?”

“Depends on what you told ‘im, pet,” I reply, aiming for cocky but miss the mark completely. Buffy just stares at me. Her anger and frustration is apparent through the film of moisture glistening over her eyes.

“What? Just bein’ truthful, slayer,” I add defensively and she rolls her eyes in annoyance. I tell you; sometimes this chit can be so bloody difficult that even my lack of patience seems virtuous by comparison.

“Yeah, that’s you; William the Truth,” she deadpans. I growl at her flippant attitude but say nothing. I want her to tell me whatever it is that went on without having to pry it from ‘er grasp like I’m the soddin’ jaws of life.

“I told him,” she says after a few quiet minutes of reflection, “that I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore. The only thing that I did know was that, with me feeling like this, I couldn’t keep his ring and that ‘hiatus’ crap wasn’t going to work. He told me that I should take some time, step away from things for a bit before I even contemplate making a decision.”

I nod solemnly before it strikes me just what she’s saying. I stare at her in disbelief, knowing that I look like a poofter but I don’t care. Besides, she’s not lookin’ at me anyway.

“I promised him I would. Take some time, I mean. I know how he feels about me. Couple that with the fact that I’m even considering about being with someone else hurts him so bad. And it hurts me, too.” She props her head on her other arm and fixes her luminescent pupils on one of my shirt buttons.

“I also told him that I would stay away from you, too.”

“Stay away? What do you mean?” I can’t help the danger that creeps into my voice and, for an instant, I almost feel as if I’m gonna vamp out. Kinda hard, though with no demon inside o’ me.

Buffy notices my change and looks at me placating eyes and the Spike-o-meter drops to tolerable levels.

“He doesn’t expect me to stop seeing you or anything like that. He’s not that crazy,” she says and her lips twist in a light smirk, “but…” she trails off and I nod in understanding. And acceptance.

“But our current arrangement needs to be re-evaluated.”

“Big time,” she says and pulls her hand away from mine, though it is with a reluctant sigh. “As much as I want you here, it’s not right to have to stay here. I knew it wasn’t right for the beginning but I pretty much overrode sensible Buffy but I didn’t want you out of my sight. I was too afraid that when I turned around, you would be gone to parts unknown.”

My hand moves up to her face and my fingertips dance across the silken skin of her cheek. “Told ya, luv, that I’m here to stay. No matter what ‘appens, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?”

“Til the end of the world.”

Her eyes glistens with unshed tears as she smiles although the latter is quite fleeting. “How can you be so calm?”

“Not sure I get you.”

“How can you be so understanding knowing that I don’t even know if I want to be with you?” She lowers her eyes and I watch in sorrow as she worries her lip in shame. “I thought you would hate me.”

A brief flash of anger crosses my features and Buffy tenses, undoubtedly sensing my mood change. I lift her chin up so she has to look me in the eye and a lance of pain slices into when I see the two single tears sliding down her cheeks.

“I will tell you this one time and one time only.” I pause. “ ‘ell, I’ll tell you this as much as you need me to. Buffy, I will never hate you. No matter what ‘appens between us, I will always love you. You bein’ in my arms or me bein’ on the other side of the bleedin’ planet won’t change that. You’re in my gut, Summers. Always have been, always will be, I reckon.” She stares at me with eyes so full of sadness, hope and fear that I decide to try and lighten the mood.

“Now, that’s not to say that I still won’t want to rip your bleedin’ head off from time to time, but that goes without sayin’.”

“So why did you say it?” She asks quietly though I can see the makings of a smile just visible at the corners of her mouth.

“Didn’t want you to think I’m totally whipped. Gotta maintain at least a hint o’ the Big Bad, luv.”

“I’m so sure,” she exclaims sarcastically and rolls her eyes. "So, you understand, about you not being able to stay here?"

"Buffy, don’t worry 'bout me, okay? I was gonna go out later on today, look at some flats across town. But I gotta wait till my car gets here."

"I hope it's better than the de Soto."

"Oy, Slayer. You're treadin' in dangerous waters talkin' bout my black beauty."

"Do me a favor, nix the black beauty thingy. Reminds me too much of your crazy ex ho-oney," I chuckle as she covers her tracks.

"Deal." She gives me a warm smile and before tackling me in a bear hug. She pulls away and gives me a sheepish bat of her eyes before she sits up.

"Know what time it is?"

"Twenty after nine," I say after a quick peek at my watch.

"Think it's about time to get up, don’t you?" She asks and stands up. I lick my lips unconsciously at the golden expanse of her leg through the slit of her white skirt. My eyes roam over her body, envious at how intimately the skirt and blouse grip her delicious curves.

"Already up, luv," I say without thinking and when I realize what I said my furious blush matches hers.

"Well, uh, yeah. Well, I'm about to take a shower, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing, luv. I'll, uh, I wager I'll do the same."

"Good," she replies a bit too eagerly. "Well, I'm going," she says and begins to walk out of the room. She stops before getting out of view and turns around to face me.

"Thank you."

"For what?" I ask as she turns away and though she never turns around, her single word drifts across the space between us. It signifies what I would do for her, what I would give up for her. It is what I want her to have and, ultimately, what she means to me.

Everything.

*&*

Buffy leaned her head against the cool tiles of the bathroom, reveling in the warmth of the water's deluge. She had allowed (or was that forced) the water to rinse away the tension that the past twelve hours had thrown at her.

A wave of sadness washed against Buffy as she remembered Garrett's face last night, the pain and disappointment staring out at her from his gray eyes. He had resigned their fate to what she decided in the coming weeks. He hadn't given her a timeframe but had firmly told her that she had to decide something, not just for him and Spike, but for her as well.

Although she agreed with his conjecture, it was still difficult to go through with it, knowing that, sooner or later, she would have to close the book on one man in her life. She knew that whomever was not chosen would still be important to her and they would continue to talk. But gone would be the intense mental and emotional connection she had made with Garrett the last two years and the past few days with Spike.

At the thought of her former lover, Buffy sighed. How had she, in less than a week, gotten so attached to the same man that had, at one time, wanted nothing more than her head on a post? Yeah, he hadn't been her enemy in years but that was beyond the point. Hell, not two years ago, he held her down in the other bathroom and tried to…

Buffy shivered and turned the hot water on even further. Even now, when she thought about that night, her body reacted involuntarily. The funny thing was, though, was that, as much as she had been around Spike, as much as they had touched, never did she pull away in revulsion. Spike may have done it but she hadn't. Buffy smiled to herself at the implications of not pulling away; finally, after so many months of alternating between damning him and wishing for his return, the wound that his violation had left in her had finally healed. Though the scar would always be there, no longer would she have to worry about it reopening.

Satisfied with the shower, Buffy turned the water off and stepped onto the soft bathroom rug. She used an oversized towel to dry off before wrapping it around her body and trudging to her room. Making her way directly to the closet, Buffy searched for what would be her daily attire. She had one more day of vacation before she had to return to the bank and wanted to wear some comfortable clothes not associated with slayage. It didn’t take her long to find a pair of white shorts and her purple tank top that had Slayer written across the chest in silver.

Buffy sat on the bed and coated her skin with baby oil. She put on her purple thong and bra set that she had lain out earlier. After fastening her shorts, she slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops before tugging the tank top over her head.

"Stupid hair," the blonde muttered after running a hand through her wet locks. She ran a brush through it quickly and shook her head, laughing as drops of water assaulted the mirror. "Okay, Summers, time to start acting your age." Checking herself over in the mirror one more time, Buffy headed out her door…

And right into a half naked Spike.

"Don’t you ever put some clothes on," Buffy demanded, attempting to hide her fluster. Spike saw through her guise and smirked.

"So now it's a problem, luv? Didn’t think that would 'appen. Guess I'm losin' my appeal."

"Whatever," Buffy muttered and shoved him in the chest. Her flesh burned from where she touched him and she felt the heat intensify throughout her small frame.

Oh God, Spike. If you only knew how much I want you, she thought before quickly reprimanding herself. She had a decision to make and continuing to let Spike affect her like this was not of the good. If she was going to be with Spike, if she was even going to consider it, it had to be about something more than the physical. It had to be about trust and love and devotion. Yes, passion would be a big part of it but if she let it become the focal point of things…well, it would definitely end badly, just like before.

"Buffy." The slayer snapped out of her thoughts when Spike snapped his fingers in her face.

"What?"

"Doorbell, luv."

"That may be Garrett," Dawn called out from her door.

"Morning to you, too, Dawn," Buffy replied sarcastically to her unseen sister. "That why you took so long getting ready?"

"What do you think, luv?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and sighed before stomping away, tossing over her shoulder something about 'sarcastic ass blonde ex-vampires not being able to answer a question'.

She heard Spike chuckle behind her but chose to ignore it as she bounded down the steps. The doorbell chimed again as she reached the landing and Buffy huffed in annoyance.

"All right, all right, I'm coming," she yelled and peeked out the window. Her brow furrowed when she saw the black Firebird convertible outside.

"That's not Garrett's car," she said and made her way to the door. The sight the greeted her was the last thing she expected.

The visitor at the door was a woman. She was about five-eight or so and was dressed in and white silk jogging suit with red trim with sneakers to match. A black leather purse hung over one shoulder and a set of keys dangled in one hand. Her raven hair was tied in a ponytail, giving Buffy a perfect view of her immaculate face.

The sun shone off her bronze skin and the slightest trace of lipstick coated her lips. The dark sunglasses she wore masked her eyes but her pencil thin eyebrows arched in amusement at the slayer's perusal.

"Hi," she said and Buffy was taken aback by the woman's raspy yet melodious voice.

"Uh, hi. Can-can I help you?"

"Well, I don’t know. Are you Buffy Summers?" Buffy's body was instantly poised to spring. She bent her knees and turned her body to the side. Her eyes narrowed and her hands balled into fists.

The woman noticed the change and laughed while simultaneously lifting her hands up and showing her palms in supplication.

"Whoa there," she said a bit nervously, "not here to fight you."

"What do you want?" Buffy sneered, feeling an instant (if not irrational) dislike for the woman.

"Actually I was looking for Will."

"Will? As in Willow?"

"No. Will as in William Summers."

Buffy relaxed minutely and let out a breath she wasn't aware that she had been holding. "This is the Summers but there's no William Summers here."

"Hmmm," the woman grunted, "he left this address when he called the club the other day."

"Club?"

"Yeah. The Blue Song. It's in San Diego." The brunette caught the look of recognition on Buffy's face and it dawned on her. "You know who I'm talking about, don’t you?" Buffy nodded.

"Yeah. It's just that he really doesn’t go by William around here."

"Oh, that's right," Rachel said and hit herself in the head with the palm of her hand. "He told me that he went by the biker name."

"Spike," Buffy supplied flatly.

"Yeah, that's it. Never really got used to calling him that." Noticing Buffy's growing discomfort, the woman toned down her excitement and gave the slayer a reserved smile.

"Sorry to be so cryptic and inconsiderate," she said and stuck out her hand. "Rachel. Rachel Sanderson. Will's told me so much about you."

Buffy took the proffered hand, resisting the urge to squeeze just enough for it to hurt. Instead, she did the politically correct thing. She lied.

"Pleased to meet you, too, Rachel." The name came off of Buffy's tongue like a viscous fluid. There was something about this woman that Buffy didn’t like and she decided that she knew exactly what it was.

As she ushered the brunette into the house, Buffy frowned at the woman's rudeness. She had just taken her sunglasses off when Buffy invited her in and that was the reason the slayer didn’t like her. Yes, sir, that was the reason. It had nothing to do with the fact that this was the woman that helped Spike adjust to the guilt that having a soul had brought. Nor was it the fact that he had cried on her shoulders, showing emotions he had never shown Buffy. Nope. The woman was rude. The fact that Spike held her in high esteem had nothing to do with Buffy's disdain with this 'Rachel'. Nope.

Nothing at all.

TBC…

Part XVIII

The light knock on the door jarred Spike from his notebook. "Come in," he announced and watched as it opened to reveal Dawn.

"Hey, Nibs," he greeted and closed his book.

"So," she said dryly and crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe. "Do you spend all your time shirtless and in jeans?"

"I'll have you know that this is the first time since I've been here that I've worn jeans," he responded indignantly.

"Yeah, whatever," she said and rolled her eyes. Spike stood up and closed the distance between them, noticing the slight flush of her cheeks as she glanced at his chest. He smiled seductively, intent on having a little bit of fun.

"Like what you see, Bit?"

Dawn's eyes widened as she took in Spike's bare chest--a chest that baby oil had definitely been applied to, quite liberally. She bit her lip as her eyes, totally of their own accord, of course, traced the lines of his abs and the planes of his chest. She then cast a glance at his face and immediately took interest in her sandals when she saw his trademark smirk.

"You are so evil," she muttered and walked the rest of the way into the room and sat on the bed.

"Could've told you that, platelet. So," he said and plopped down next to her, "what brings you here? Don’t you have a date with Garrett today?"

"Yeah but I don’t think it's him that was at the door. Buffy hasn't called me yet." Spike noticed how she fiddled with her hands and refused to look at him.

"Okay, Nibs," he said and turned to face her fully, "out with it."

Dawn stuttered, attempting to deny it but gave it up when Spike glared at her with those all-knowing eyes of his. "Fine."

"Fine what?"

"I'll spill."

"So there was an ulterior motive to your visit?"

"You could say that."

"Why don’t you say it instead," he said softly, understanding that she wanted to talk about something serious.

"I…yesterday morning, when I woke up, I was watching how good you and Buffy fit together. Even asleep, you two gravitate towards each other like it's the most natural thing in the world."

"Always have, 'Bit. Even when we were at each other's throats," he said reverently. Spike had known from the beginning, from the first time he had seen Buffy, that she was the living definition of unique. She had haunted his dreams and every waking thought and Spike had known that she would never leave.

"The thing is, I know she's with Garrett," Dawn interrupted Spike's thoughts, "or, at least she was."

"What do you mean 'was'?" Spike asked, not wanting to tell her something without talking to Buffy first.

"The ring. When I looked at her hand it wasn't there anymore and I assumed that she had given it back to him."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because," she sighed and Spike brushed a strand of hair from her face. She looked at him and warmed inside at the smile he gave her. She couldn’t hide the blush that crept up over her cheeks at the gesture. Although he had been a surrogate brother to her, Dawn had never fully gotten over her crush for him and living in the same house for the last few days had, to her utmost surprise, reaffirmed bits and pieces of that crush. Of course, that's all it would be but that was okay. This was her best friend--again--and having him in her life, ready to help her when she needed, was everything she could ask for.

"Because what, Nibblet?"

"Because you're back, silly." Spike chuckled at the annoyance in Dawn's voice and stood. He picked up the white tank top still on the bed and slipped it over his head.

"So, you think that she broke off the engagement because of me?"

"Spike," Dawn said and stood. He sighed mentally, noticing that she was just as tall as him now. His Nibblet had truly grown up. "Cut the crap. You know that's true so don’t deny it."

"Not denyin' anything, Bit. Just not sharin' is all."

"So you and Buffy did talk?" She half-squealed.

"You could say that."

"And?" Dawn clasped her hands in front of her, expectantly.

" 'Fraid you'll have to ask big sis." She stomped her foot lightly and he chuckled at the pout but stood firm. "Sorry, Nibs, but I'm not gonna be the one to tell you what's Buffy's to tell."

"But it involves you," she pried, "so you could tell, too."

Spike grinned. "Reckon I could. But I'm not. Sorry." Dawn's face fell and she refused to look at him. Spike frowned at the sudden change and cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him. He was taken aback at the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Her lower lip quivered almost imperceptibly.

"Dawn, what's wrong? And don’t say 'nothing'."

"It's just that, I--I just got you back and I don’t want to lose you all over again. If you and Buffy don’t…" she started but Spike silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"Doesn't matter, Sweets." On her confused look, he continued. "Whatever happens between me and your sis has no bearing on me an' you, you hear me?"

"But--but if you don’t have Buffy, then what reason do you have to stay here?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes, you." He ushered her back to the bed and they both sat down. Spike kept his hand on her back and rubbed it comfortingly. "Dawn, what I feel for Buffy--what I feel for her is…"

"Complicated?"

"Yeah. So bloody complicated. Goin' from enemies to allies back to enemies…then back to allies to almost friends to shag mates muddles things up quite a bit. Even still, I'll never stop wantin' 'er. Never stop lovin' 'er. Not to say I still don’t think about stranglin' the stubborn bint sometimes, but still.

"With you, it's different."

"It is? And here I thought you once threatened to drink from my brain stem," she said flatly.

"Well," Spike huffed, "when you don’t mind me, I do." The both laughed at that before he continued. "The point is, my love for you's not complicated. 'S so easy to love you Bit. Don’t really 'ave to worry bout you threatenin' to stake me or rippin' my 'eart out. Only thing I gotta worry 'bout is disappointin' you. Again," the last was said in a whisper and Dawn slung her arm lovingly around his neck.

"You won't. Disappoint me. I believe in you." To say Spike beamed at her words was an understatement. When he felt his cheeks about to burst, he ducked his head sheepishly.

"Means a lot for you to say that, Bit," he said and their gazes locked. "An' that's why I can't go. I will always be here for you. Always. No matter what 'appens between your sis, and me don’t ever think that I will leave.

"I promised that I would take care of you till the end of the world. And though I may have welched on that the past two years, I will tell you right now, that a gentleman always keeps his promises."

Dawn stared in awe at the man before her. Spike had changed so much over the years although the love and care that he held for her in his eyes had never changed. Even that first time she had met him all those years ago, when he had not known who she was, he had still possessed that overprotective glint in his eye when looking at her. Seeing those cerulean jewels shine before her, Dawn knew that Spike, just like Buffy, would always be there for her. He would be there when she needed him, willing to lay his life on the line for her. The reality of that thought humbled her. He had done it once before, when he had had no soul and she knew without a doubt, if necessary, he would do it again.

Not trusting her voice, Dawn wrapped her arms around the ex-vampire's neck, conveying her love and devotion to him in an embrace that said so much more than her words ever could.

*&*

Once we get inside, I usher Rachel to the living room where she sits down on the couch. I take a seat on the love seat across from her. One look in her direction and I can tell she's just as uncomfortable as I am.

"Would you like something to drink?" I ask after several minutes of false starts.

"No thanks," she says and smiles. I can’t help but notice how pretty a smile she has. Her two cheeks are indented with the barest of dimples and she…

Wait a minute-why am I complimenting her? I’m supposed to be the big, bad intimidating slayer. I cross my legs and fold my arms across my chest and slide in place a firm yet not overbearing scowl.

"So, does Spike know you’re coming?"

"I don’t know. I left a message this morning on his cell but he didn’t call me back. Of course, I didn’t actually say that I was going to be the one to bring his car here. I kind of wanted to surprise him."

So, she wanted to surprise him, huh? "Well," Spike doesn’t like surprises like that; I want to say but catch myself.

"So," Rachel says and her eyes survey the room, "is Will around?" Was that annoyance I just heard? Cuz if it is, polite Buffy’s gonna be gone faster than you can say…

"Hey short girl," Dawn yells as she bounds down the steps. "You really need to keep your slayer stuff…" she stops when she sees Rachel on the couch. Dawn gives me a questioning gaze before the ‘nice lady’ speaks.

"Hi, you must be Dawn," Rachel sits up, a little too eagerly for me and I narrow my gaze. "Will’s told me so much about you."

I can see Dawn’s mind working from here. She crosses her arms defiantly over her chest. "And you are?" She says and I smile inwardly at Dawn’s reservation.

"Rachel. Rachel Sanderson." She walks over to Dawn and offers her hand. Dawn shakes it warily, though I can see some of the hostility melt from Dawn at the action. I’ve never seen ‘Hostile Dawn’ batted down so quickly. This Rachel must be some sort of witch.

"Rachel brought Spike’s car all the way here from San Diego," I tell my sister as I maneuver my way between them. Okay, so I’m being overly cautious and maybe a bit irrational…

"So you’re Rachel, huh?" Dawn asks and scrutinizes the brunette with a critical eye. I’ve been around my sister long enough to know that, from her body language, Dawn is fighting between taking an immediate liking this woman and straight up jealousy. Who can blame her-for the jealousy part, I mean. That’s how I feel-would feel-if I met my best friend’s new best friend. I’d feel a bit threatened by this woman just popping up to give him a ‘surprise’ visit, like she was expecting to take him back just as he was set to be in my life once again. If I was Dawn, that is.

"Hello? Earth to Buffy," my sister snaps and I jerk myself back into the now.

"Yeah?"

"I’m going to meet Garrett at the Expresso Pump and we’re gonna go out from there, okay?"

"Why doesn’t he come pick you up?"

"He was," Dawn says and stares at her silver toenail polish sheepishly, "but I figured what with all the drama from the past few days that it’d be easier on everyone if, you know, he didn’t come around just quite yet." I smile at my sister’s foresight and brush a strand of hair from her check. As much as I don’t want things to be awkward with Garrett, I know that they will be. Especially with Spike here.

"Do you need some money?" I hug her and she returns it, a little tighter than usually as if offering her strength.

"Nope. G-man’s treating me. Besides, check out what Spike gave me." She pulls out a crisp hundred-dollar bill and before I comment, Rachel’s exclamation interrupts us.

"Something wrong?" I ask and bite my lip at my condescending tone. Rachel flinches ever so slightly though her smile never wavers.

"No, I just remembered something, is all." One look at her and I know that she’s hiding something but I let it go for now. There will be plenty of time later for analysis. As for now…

"Nice to meet you Rachel," Dawn says and I mentally curse my sister for the lack of hostility in her voice. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say her sentiments were genuine.

"Wonderful to meet you, too, Dawn," Rachel replies and Dawn shakes her hand before giving me a kiss on the cheek and ripping out of the door.

"Guess she was in a hurry," Rachel quips, staring at the door.

"Yeah, guess so," I reply sardonically. Rachel cranes her neck and eyes me quizzically and, for a moment she reminds me of that bewildered expression Spike gives me when I do something unexpected. I throw a false smile (I’m really aiming for genuine but I just keep missing the mark--damn) her way before walking back into the living room. I know it’s rude not to escort her back in but she can find her way. Of course, the other ruditude just may happen to be that I haven’t called Spike down just yet.

"So, Rachel," I say and keep the levels of hostility in my voice just below radar, "how long are you staying?"

"Well, it depends." I detect a hint of befuddlement in her voice and for a just a moment I feel bad for my callous behavior. "Depends on what me and Spike do in the next couple of days." Hey, the moment’s passed. Whatta ya know?

"So, just what are you and Spike plannin’ to do?" I ask and my hands go instinctively to my hips and my tone gets a little edgier.

Rachel notices the change and takes a minute step back and I can see her eyes-man, I’ve never seen such dark eyes before; yup, she must be evil-size me up warily. But other than that, she responds friendly enough. "Well, when I talked to him the other day, I told him that, since he’s dead set on relocating here that I made a few calls to some realtors about some lots for opening up Sunnydale’s own Blue Song. He thought it was a good idea, so I thought that we could survey the lots, check out some of the price tags on them and go from there."

"So that’s all that you’re staying for," I say though it comes out more as a question. I bite my lip reflexively and notice Rachel’s eyes soften as if she’s just figured something out.

"Buffy, I…" but she doesn’t finish as the baritone voice traipsing down the steps interrupts her.

"So, Slayer, do you fancy doin’ anything on this glorious…" he stops in mid sentence when he sees her and his eyes light up like they always do for Dawn.

"Night?" His voice was the barest of whispers and I can't help but frown at the love evident in his voice.

"Will," Rachel replies and gives him a broad grin.

"Get your bloody arse over here," he shouts joyously and she flies into his arms. They hug warmly--a hug I don’t think is just friendly. Hell, I've never hugged Xander like that before.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were comin', pet?" He asks and I bristle at him using my name on her. I roll my eyes but keep quiet as he addresses 'O, she of the Night'.

"I'm just gonna go and…" I start before Rachel cuts me off.

"Well, I did leave a message on your cell phone this morning. I guess somebody didn’t check said messages."

"You called?" He asks. "What time?"

"Around seven this morning."

"You were up at seven?" He asks incredulously and I roll my eyes before sitting down on the arm of the chair.

"Yes, I was up at seven. Don’t make a big deal about it."

Spike surprises me when he turns to me, smirk firmly in place as he hikes a thumb towards Rachel. "You think the Bit sleeps hard, luv, you ain't seen nothin' yet. Night 'ere could sleep through a bloody apocalypse. And forget about her doin' anything before ten a.m."

"Hey," she pouts and slaps him in the shoulder. By some miraculous will of God, I bite back the comment about touching Spike. I'm thankful for that since--well, since I really don’t want to be seen as a loon. "Standing right her."

"That you are," Spike says affectionately and touches her hair briefly. A sharp pain enters my chest at the delicate touch but I bat it away.

Spike ushers Rachel back to the couch and sits next to her. The next fifteen minutes are spent in conversation and Spike is thoughtful enough to include me in most of it. The dialogue jumps from the club in San Diego to establishing another one here to Spike hackling Rachel about how she better not have scratched up his car.

After awhile, I dismiss myself, muttering about needing to fix my hair. As I leave the room, Spike's gaze is heavy between my shoulder blades and I resist the urge to turn back, paranoid at what I might see.

I make a beeline for my comb and brush, angrily yanking the kinks from where my hair is tangled. My thoughts turn to the last thirty minutes or so with Spike and Rachel. They looked so comfortable together, as if they were on the same wavelength. I've never had that type of rapport with him; well, not until recently. Before that, only Mom and Dawn had ever been totally at ease around him. But Rachel…

A tired sigh escapes my lips as I think about the two years they had spent together, working together, living together (I think). As much as I've gotten to see a different side of him these past five days, there's no way I can compete with Rachel in that field. I had him by my side--well, in my hair, mostly--for, what? --Four years and I know next to nothing about him. What he likes? What he dislikes. His hopes and dreams. Yeah, I know he was a vampire then but still--still, there was William inside, sharing space with that demon. The William that comforted me when Mom was sick. The William that was always there for Dawn or the William that always made me see that I was trying my best even when I didn’t think I was. The William that prevented me from dancing myself to ashes when all I wanted was to end it all. The William that tried so hard to show me compassion, tried to make love to me though I shot him down again and again, only wanting the physical that turned it into nothing but a shag.

Everything that I had said and done to him for four years rushes back to me. I thought I had forgiven myself for it all but the guilt still lingers. I guess it's because, now, for the first time, I truly acknowledge that I only knew Spike the vampire and never gave him the opportunity to show me the man that was always inside of him, waiting to be let out. Rachel knows that part of him. She knows his fears, his loves and desires. His dreams. I want to learn those things, I really do. But can I ever compete with someone who helped him rise from the ashes? Someone who never took morbid pleasure in beating him down with words and fists? Can I ever make up for that? Do I even know where to begin?

I growl in frustration at my wayward thoughts and turn my attention back to my finally cooperative locks. When I look into the mirror, however, I see me. The real me. I see the scared little girl that clams up at the very idea of someone loving her with all his heart. I see the brat that lashes out when something doesn’t go her way or hides behind snide remarks. Yeah, I know I have changed in these last two years, but how many times have I reverted back to my old ways in the past few months? How could he love someone like this?

I gasp as the thought enters my head. That had been the question I had asked myself over and over again during our tryst two years ago. How could he love me when I did such horrible things to him? But he did. He does.

I wipe the errant tear away before it falls and stand up a little straighter as I come to a decision. I can't continue to beat myself up like this. I've changed, I really have. Okay, so I still have a ways to go, but I'm trying here. That's more than I can say for the Buffy from a few years ago. I have to let go of the past and embrace the future that awaits me. Of course, thinking of that brings up issues that I so do not want to deal with right now…

Spike's baritone laughter carries through the house and Confident Buffy falters a bit. How many times have I made him laugh like that? No, not gonna think like that. Not now.

Satisfied with my hair, I lay on my bed, determined to give myself a few minutes of 'thoughtlessness' before going back downstairs to greet the company. Gone for now are thoughts of Garrett and Spike. So, too, is comparing Rachel and myself. There are no bills, no work and no demons. Just me. Buffy. It's been far too long since I've thought about myself and--dammit! --I deserve the attention.

A smile creases my lips as I think about myself and what I want and, for the first time in months, I'm free of pressure. And it feels so good.

Here's to hoping it'll last.

*&*

About twenty minutes after she had first went to her room; Buffy finally re-emerged from her willful exile. When she walked into the living room, Spike and Rachel were still on the couch, talking amicably.

"Hey," Rachel said, being the first one to see Buffy.

"Hey guys, what’s going on?" Spike stood and closed the distance between he and Buffy.

"Is everything all right, luv?" He asked and she smiled at the concern she saw in his eyes.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed some ‘me’ time. That’s all." She squeezed the arm that had, at some point, come to rest on her hip. Spike nodded, though Buffy could tell that he was not all the way convinced.

Rachel smiled sadly at the exchange between the two blondes. As happy as she was for Will finally coming home, a part of her was jealous of the tangible love that radiated from him for the petite blonde. To be honest, when she had first walked in, Rachel had to corral her longstanding anger with Buffy for treating Will so badly a few years ago. But she hadn’t and it wasn’t just because Rachel knew that Will was also to blame but the fact that she saw that this wasn’t the same Buffy that Will had gushed and ranted about. Despite never meeting her before, one look into those hazel eyes and Rachel knew Buffy had done a lot of maturing in the past two years.

"So," Buffy said and took her familiar seat in the chair. "What are you guys doing today?"

"Well," Rachel said, "I don’t know about Will here but I was going to check out some of the potential plots to build another Blue Song."

"And I’m going, too," Spike affirmed.

"What? You don’t trust me?" Rachel asked in a mock pout.

"Not that, pet, but I’d like to talk to those real estate wankers myself."

"The intimidation factor," Buffy and Rachel said simultaneously. They traded sheepish grins and Buffy felt a bit of the animosity she had from the woman slip away from that simple gesture.

"Now don’t you chits try and gang up on me now. I’ve a mind to turn you both over my knee." Rachel chuckled when she saw Buffy blush furiously.

"I’m thinking that’d be more a reward for you and less a punishment for us," the brunette deadpanned.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "As a matter of fact…" she caught herself before finishing but by the gleam in Spike’s eye, Buffy knew he remembered.

"Okay," Rachel interrupted, drawing Spike’s attention from a thoroughly embarrassed Buffy, "then it’s settled. I get to meet with the realtors and you, Will-well, you do whatever it is you do best. Besides annoying poor Buffy here. Or me for that matter." She winked at the slayer and they shared another laugh at the ex-vampire’s expense.

"Down boy," Rachel teased and took off her jacket. Buffy couldn’t help but scrutinize the woman’s every movement and was surprised when she saw the woman underneath.

She had a tight red shirt that clung to breasts that, for all intents and purposes, quite spectacular. They were substantially larger than Buffy’s (though that wasn’t saying much) but, at the same time, not mammoth. The lines of Rachel’s sports bra were visible through the cotton fabric of the shirt. Buffy noticed a slight thickness to the other woman’s waist that bunched as she sat but would taper considerably when Rachel stood.

How many times since she had seen Rachel had Buffy thought the other woman would be a model of perfection? Though she was beautiful (very beautiful, Buffy added grudgingly) she was also a normal woman. She did not have the 'perfect body' Buffy imagined that Rachel would have and the slayer knew that the brunette probably shared some of the same insecurities that the petite blonde did. Again, a sliver of Buffy’s dislike for Rachel dissipated.

That being said, she was still sitting a tad too close to Spike for Buffy’s tastes.

"Buffy?" Spike said and the blonde ripped her guilty eyes away from their perusal of Rachel’s body.

"Yeah? What did you say?" God, if he saw me eying Rachel, he may think…

"I was asking if you wanted to come by and check out some of the flats I’m gonna look at…"

"Well…" Buffy started.

"We’re gonna meet for lunch at around three," Rachel supplied.

"Count me in," the slayer finished a bit too enthusiastically.

"Cool beans," Rachel remarked and stood up. Buffy avoided staring at the woman and, instead trained her eyes on the platinum blonde across from her. Did he just check out her boobs? The slayer asked herself incredulously. He just checked out her boobs!

"Well, I’m gonna get to the hotel and get cleaned up for the meeting," Rachel informed.

"What time did you schedule it?"

"The first one’s in about, oh, an hour. The second one’s at one. There are a few pending for later on in the week, Will, but I wanted to get your assessment on these first two before we moved forward."

Moved forward? Buffy thought though her tongue remained still.

"All right, pet. If you need anything, just give me a ring on my cell."

"You know me…" Rachel trailed off, smirking.

"Bloody right I do. You askin’ fer help’s bout as likely as the sun shinin’ at midnight." His eyes drifted to Buffy. "Wonder where I’ve noticed that before."

"I’ll have you know," Buffy replied snidely, "that in Alaska the sun does shine at midnight. Well, six months out of the year. Maybe."

"So you’re a stubborn girl, too?" Rachel asked and Buffy raised her chin defiantly. "Well," she said and punched Spike in the chest, "we stubborn girls must unite."

"You all will be the death of me yet," Spike groaned and was promptly smacked in the head by Buffy.

"And don’t you forget it, blondie." She turned to Rachel and stuck her hand out. "It was good meeting you, Rachel and I guess we’ll see you later." This time, when they shook, Buffy did apply a tiny bit of pressure that Rachel withstood admirably. Just because I don’t hate her doesn’t mean I have to like her.

"The feeling’s mutual, Buffy." Rachel said and dropped her hand after the shake. She put one arm around Spike’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. Buffy noticed said cheeks flame and she knew the woman had whispered something to him. Did anybody ever tell you it’s rude to whisper in front of someone? Buffy thought and her eyes burned into the other woman’s skull. She dropped her gaze just in time as Rachel offered her another smile before Spike led her out the door.

"So," Spike said when he came back into the living room. "What did you think?" Buffy glanced up from the magazine she was reading (and was very interested in, by the way) and shrugged.

"She’s okay, I guess."

Spike scowled at his slayer’s noncommittal reply until he noticed her right leg bouncing where it was crossed over the left. Coupled with several of the looks he had seen Buffy give Rachel and the uppity tone she had had in her voice on more than one occasion gave it all away.

Buffy was jealous. No, scratch that. She was the embodiment of jealousy and envy and, if he didn’t know any better, he would have said she was just a bit greener around the edges.

Maybe she wants me after all, he thought hopefully. A part of his mind cautioned him from thinking too far ahead but he ignored it, content to feel confident at least for now.

Smirk firmly in place, he strode over to Buffy with his patented cockiness and knelt in front of her. His eyes traced a single bead of sweat that cascaded down the side of her face and he resisted the urge to stop its progress with the swipe of his tongue.

"Well, luv, guess I’ll finish getting’ dressed." He eyed her saucily and chuckled as the familiar burn tinted her cheeks. Her leg stopped bouncing and it appeared that she pulled her legs even closer together. Spike refrained from any type of touch and he stood up when Buffy finally acknowledged that he should get dressed with a wave of her hand.

He sauntered out of the room, very aware of Buffy’s eyes on him but he did not turn around. If anything, he put a little more strut into his step before disappearing from her view.

As he climbed the steps, Spike did remind himself not to push things. He wanted Buffy as much now as he ever had but he knew she had a big decision to make. As much as it pained him, she would also have to spend some more time with Garrett and less time with him.

The next couple weeks are gonna be rough, old boy, he told himself as he walked into the guestroom.

No matter what ‘appens, remember to stay the course. Spike knew that, even if Buffy didn’t choose him, he couldn’t leave her. Although she could possibly leave Sunnydale if her and Garrett were married, there was no way Spike was going to leave again. He had done it once and that would be the last time he would ever abandon her. Not in his mind, his body, or his toddler-aged soul.

Spike chuckled, his thoughts bittersweet. He had once told her that he was drowning in her. That still held true and Spike knew that there were only two ways to go; it would either consume him, take his will if he was denied or she would accept him and throw him a raft to stay afloat in his love for her. Either way, his entire being would always be surrounded by her presence. It was something he felt in his bones and, though it sounded romantic, such consumption was dangerous as well. The night in the bathroom was a testament to that.

No, Buffy’s love would consume him-that was something he could never help, just like the chip. But he would temper it. He owed it to her not to feel overwhelmed by what he felt for her but more than that, he owed it to himself.

TBC