Chapter 11:

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Jane Austen owns ‘Emma’, Amy Heckerling wrote ‘Clueless’ and Joss Whedon owns the characters, I Desire Felder am the proud owner of a stack of pictures taken of James at 14Below, clad in wife-beater goodness, with a sexy guitar strapped on him, and his mouth near a microphone. Am I jealous of the other three literary wonders….Nah, not really ;D.

Author’s Note: Okay, on the Possession front…I started the new chappy, but you know, writers block and I’m still not sure when I’ll be able to snap out of that stupor…sorry, but I won’t make you wait much longer, I promise ;D.

And yes, Chappy 11 is rather short, but it’s more of a setup for things to come. Yes, I can drag this out painfully slow forever and ever and ever….*mwhahahahahahahahahaha*

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

You know I never was what you would call a huge country music fan, but lately, I’ve been tapping into the music of pain. There’s something strangely healing about the ‘O Brother Where Art Thou’ soundtrack…

"Buffy, honey is something bothering you?" Mom smiled down at me, turning off my stereo.

"No?" I sighed. "Why?"

"Well, your choice of music has gotten very ‘down on the farm’ lately." She smiled.

Moms seem to come equipped with a sixth sense. They always manage to know when something’s wrong with you, even when you’re not sending out overt signals of pain through bad country music.

She gave me a soft smile as she sat down next to me on the bed, running her fingers through the length of my hair, they way she use to do when I was a kid.

"There’s nothing wrong." I mumbled.

"Mmm-hmm."

" Absolutely nothing to talk about…"

"I know."

"Why doesn’t he want me?!" I moaned. What I couldn’t help it, her mom vibes were getting to me.

"Why doesn’t who want you?"

I sat up, covering my face with my hands for a moment. I could smack myself for opening the floodgates known as mother-daughter bonding time…

"I like this guy, which is fine with me most of the time but…"

"He doesn’t feel the same way?"

I sniffed, shaking my head. Not gonna cry, not gonna cry, not gonna cry… "Nope." I sighed loudly. "Can’t say I blame him, I’m selfish, egotistical, shallow…"

"Loving, caring, beautiful, compassionate." She smiled at me. "Buffy, you’re a wonderful person, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your mother…"

"Right…"

"Who takes care of me? Who makes sure that I drink that god awful juice in the morning?" She smiled, pulling me closer. "And who makes sure I never marry again." Mom laughed. "If it weren’t for you, husband number 4 would have been that carnival operator."

"What were you thinking mom, a carnie?!"

"That’s my point, Buffy, you look for the people you love. Yes you can be shallow…"

"How is this being supportive…"

"But you’re also a beautiful person inside and out, and if this guy can’t see that, he’s an idiot, and frankly I don’t know if I want you with a stupid boy like that."

I could feel the cliché hug coming on, but I went with it, and actually it felt really good.

Moms: more comforting than ‘Man of Constant Sorrow’ any day.

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

I never realized just how nice of a guy Oz really was. I mean, even after I was a complete bitchy Buffy to him, he still got his band mates to agree to play the carnival and volunteered to work overtime helping me with it.

Daniel ‘Oz’ Osborne isn’t exactly what one would call a ‘chatter box’, but after spending weeks working together, I acquired the skill of decoding his stoic facial expressions. We managed to have an entire conversation using less than five words…

"How’s this?" He smiled, holding up the banner.

"That’s great. I bow to your banner making skills."

And his hair, not so much cotton candy like any more as it is unique…

"I’m gonna need to steal some of your blue." He grinned, dipping his paintbrush into the paint at my side, giving me a quick swipe across the cheek before I knew it.

"Oz!" So help me god if this stuff clogs my pores…! He laughed, shaking his head and grabbed a paper towel.

"Come here." He smiled, gently rubbing at the vivid blue paint on my cheek. The rubbing suddenly stopped, replaced with a very odd look on the face of Oz, a look I’ve honestly never seen.

"Did it come off?" I asked nervously, a thin smile crossing my lips. Why is he looking at me like that?! Oz only has three facial expressions, what the hell is going on?!

He shook his head. "Nope, still there." He whispered as he leaned in and kissed me.

Despite my utter shock, I managed to kiss him back, but it didn’t feel…right. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice, extremely nice as kisses go, but there was something missing for the both of us I think…

"I think we’re done for today." I smiled.

"Yeah." He nodded. "I’ll see you tomorrow." Oz grinned, giving me a quick kiss.

"Buffy who’s your friend?"

At first, I was chalking my extreme dizziness up to the paint fumes that had been assaulting my nose for nearly three hours straight, but, nope, the sight of Spike and my mom standing in the dining room doorway had to be the real reason I felt like passing out…

Mom smiled rather affectionately at Oz, who at the moment had maneuvered around the table to shake her hand and introduce himself. Spike, however looked a lot more pale than usual, and if looks could kill, Oz would’ve been a dead man…

God, Spike really works the protective big-brother vibe when any male over the age of ten is within fifty feet of me.

Oz gave me a little smile and a wave as he headed out the door, yelling "See you tomorrow, Buffy."

I hate it when moms get that cheeky ‘you’ve got a boyfriend’ grin on their faces…my mom’s is by far the worst…

"And I thought you said he didn’t like you?"

I gave a sidelong glance in their direction, mainly aimed at Spike, as I started to clean up the paint and other various banner making supplies.

"He’s not the guy." I sighed.

TBC…

Chapter 12:

Rating: PG-13 (bad language, suggestive themes, interested yet?)

Disclaimer: The paltry Bangkok air stuck with me as I was led into the building. No air conditioning, no fans, being out in the smothering heat was better than this. "Sit down!" He grunted, practically throwing me in the chair. The blindfold was removed finally, and I squinted, readjusting my eyes to the light of the room. "Good of you to come, Desire" Joss bellowed, leaning forward in his chair. On either side of him, sat Jane Austen and Amy Heckerling, the Council. "What the hell do you want from me?! I told you, I gave the three of you your respective credits! Jane, I would never claim that the premise in the Matchmaker is my own, that belongs to you, after all Emma is your story. And Amy, Clueless is one of my favorite movies, what kind of person would I be if I denied the huge references to that. Joss, Jossie, Jossie, Jossie…you know those characters are yours, baby. I swear, I stop sleeping with you then all of a sudden you have to pull this crap!"

Author’s Note: Okay now, here’s the REAL Ch. 12 to this fic. I’m moving on from everything that happened over the weekend, I’m dropping it, pushing it out of my memory. I’ll get back to writing, you guys get back to reading and praising me ;D. Okay, I’m joking on the praise, I’m not an ego maniac here…but, yeah, lets get back to the fun at hand and forget the drama.

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

"We need to talk…"

Okay, I have to admit, the next day at school I was avoiding Oz like the plague. I never know the best way to let someone down. With Riley it was a much-deserved shot to the nose, and breaking up with Angel entailed my lovely knee meeting his groin head on, but I really like Oz and wish to keep his various body parts in reasonable working order.

"I really like you, Buffy." He smiled, sitting down next to me.

"I know…"

"But I think we’re better off as friends."

Alright, is there something in the water around here?! The second I get ready to do the letting down, I’m the one who’s cast off! Like reality television, this trend needs to stop…

"Just friends?" I asked smiling.

"Don’t get me wrong, you’re sweet, funny, reasonably dollsome…"

Reasonably?! I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Okay…" He chuckled. "Extremely dollsome, you’re beautiful, you know that."

"Yep, but I just like hearing it come from a voice other than my inner one."

"You would be a perfect girlfriend but that kiss yesterday" He paused. "It lacked…"

"Spark?"

He nodded solemnly, giving me a warm smile.

"You’re still all about Willow, huh?"

"Yeah." He sighed loudly, running a hand through his dark blue hair. "Unfortunately I’m not so high on the Willow food chain anymore."

Yeah, thanks to me and my ‘helping’ hand…

"It’s all my fault." I sighed.

"How is Willow’s sudden lack of charm and all humanity your fault?"

"I’m the one who helped her transform into the demon that’s currently wearing her face. I’m the one who convinced her you weren’t good enough for her…"

"Oh."

"Of course that was before I knew you." I quickly added.

"Naturally."

"Don’t feel bad about your Willow troubles, you’re not the only one who’s been rejected. At the moment I’m three for three…"

"You and that Spike guy, huh?"

Wait, how did he know that?! "How’d you know that?"

"It was a little obvious." Oz smiled. "Plus, the icy glare I got from that guy…that’s a perfected icy glare, that sort of thing just doesn’t come natural."

"He can be a little overprotective of me sometimes."

"Well, you bring that out in people."

I was beyond happy with how things turned out with Oz, luckily we both felt the same way, and he made it through our conversation without having to go to the emergency room. I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder.

"You’re still my date for the carnival tomorrow, right?" I asked.

"Most definitely." He said, putting his arm around me, pulling me closer.

"You really felt nothing when you kissed me?"

"Not a thing."

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

I sighed loudly ass I flopped down at the table with my stack of books. Trying to get good grades the hard working, honest way is a crock of bull. Who the hell cares about Marie-Antoinette?! So she lost her head and offered the locals some cake, blah, blah, blah, how is this possibly important in 2002? Now, maybe if she led a GLADD rally against Eminem or something, then she’d be interesting.

"Hi Buffy."

I don’t exactly know how long its been since Willow and I had an actual conversation, even an actual smile in each others direction, but here she was in the Sunnydale High library. Standing across from my table, a nervous grin on her face, wearing an adorable peasant top and skirt.

"Hi Will."

I motioned for her to have a seat. You know, one never fully realizes the hell that is blistering awkward silence until you’ve experienced it for five minutes straight.

"I’m sorry, Buffy." She smiled softly.

"I know, Will, I’m sorry too!"

"I know, god I missed you!"

"I missed you too!"

"Let’s never fight again, okay."

The second our apologies were out, the climate in the space between us was completely shifted, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like I had my friend back.

"So…" She began, tapping her pencil on the table. "You and Oz? That’s, that’s new and totally unexpected."

Crap, I had forgotten just how fast news travels at Sunnydale. Oz and I had been spending so much time together lately, that rumors were running rampant. I actually had a freshman ask me if I was pregnant with his rainbow-haired love child…

"No, Will, we’re just friends." I smiled, glancing over my notes once again. "He’s a great guy."

"Yeah." She muttered. "But Spike’s great also…"

And now the climate is back to cloudy with an extreme chance of thunderstorms…

"Yeah." I turned the page in my notebook, readying my pen to jot down more notes, only it suddenly felt like doodling. "So, how are things with you two?"

"Oh, it’s great."

And there’s the tornado warning…

I grit my teeth, trying to put on the happy face. I want Will and I to be friends again, I truly missed her, and I’ve really got to get over this stupid jealousy thing.

"We talk all the time, and talk, and talk some more…really I wish his lips would stop flapping and start smooching." She grumbled.

He hasn’t kissed her yet?! Spike the ‘this is my tongue would you like to meet it’ Spike hasn’t kissed Willow after weeks of going out? I felt a little twinge as I turned my doodle page. I’d be lying if I said it was anything but pure joy…

"He hasn’t kissed you yet?"

"Nope, just talk." She sighed. "All about the talking."

"What do you talk about?"

Willow shrugged, bringing the pencil to her mouth. "Oh you know, the usual, Freud, you, Jung, you, Tolstoy, you, Salinger, you, the difference between slurpies and sluhies, you…"

Is it just me or is there a pattern to their various topics of conversation…?

"Wow, you guys really talk about school related topics a lot. Don’t you know you’re required to take your head out of the books on a date."

Come on, discussing freshman psych on a date, I can’t believe Spike would be that pompous!

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

I was unpleasantly surprised when Spike decided to tag along with Oz, Willow, and I to help with carnival setup. Cordy would have come, but there was another ‘incident’ involving her thousand-dollar dress, and little Corry Merrick’s unfortunate allergy to orange juice…the results, not pretty.

"You didn’t have to come." I semi-glared at Spike as I arranged the paints along the table in the face painting tent.

"I wanted to help." He grumbled.

"We have plenty of help."

"What’s your problem lately?!" He snapped, coming closer to me. My problem?! How about his complete ignoring of my obvious feelings for him and the fact he’s dating one of my best friends!

"I don’t have a problem!"

"Yeah, bloody right you don’t." He mumbled, rolling his eyes. "What’s the matter, got in a fight with your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?! I don’t have a boyfriend…"

"So what, you were just tonguing Ox hello the other day?!"

The nerve of that bastard! "His name is Oz, little brain, and we’re just friends."

"Oh yeah, you’re very bloody friendly."

"Just cause you’re not having make out sessions with Will, doesn’t give you the right to jump on my back about Oz!"

That’s a new look. The one he’s giving me, I’ve never seen before…just another weird Spike facial expression to log on my chart…

He cocked his head to the side, grinning at me, the evil grin not the cute one. "Why would I be having ‘make out sessions’ with Willow as you put it?

"Well, you are dating her aren’t you…?"

"We’ve gone out a few times, we have fun, but I’m not dating her." He sighed. "I like Red, I do, but there’s no spark there. She doesn’t drive me crazy." Spike’s smile suddenly shifted from the arrogant grin, to the dead sexy smile, and was he standing that close to me when this conversation started…?!

"I need someone to drive me crazy."

Drive him crazy? Hell, I’m pretty good at that…

He grinned, poking me in the side. God, somehow every fight we have ends up with him tickling me.

"Don’t." I warned, already beginning to laugh.

"Don’t what?" He said innocently, grabbing me with his whole hand, digging his fingers deep into my sides. I was laughing so damn hard, I crumbled to my knees, and he was on me in an instant. Spike had me down on the ground, straddling my waist, his fingers hitting all of my target spots (the stomach, the thigh, the ribs..).

"Spike! Stop, please!" I begged in between giggles, but truth be told, I rather like this position we’re in now…

He laughed, pinning my hands above my head. "What’s the magic phrase?"

"You know I don’t remember, jackass, let me up!"

"Say it and I’ll think about it." He grinned.

"What part of ‘don’t remember’ do you not understand! Now, do you plan on letting me up any time soon?!" Of course I love having him above me like that, but I don’t want him to know that. He may not be with Willow after all, but he still doesn’t feel the same way about me…

"No I don’t." He said, his voice dropping a bit. "If that’s all right with you?"

Before I could utter another word, his lips were on mine. Soft, nice, teasing…I could so get use to this…

"Buffy, Spike do you guys need anything…oh god."

Oh god, Willow!

Great, kill my moment why don’t you….

TBC…

Part 13:

Rating: PG-13 (fun for the whole dysfunctional family!)

Disclaimer: Okay, this would be the witty section of the page where I make up cute and utterly fictional situations just to find a creative way to say Joss Whedon owns the characters, Jane Austen owns the plot to ‘Emma’ and Amy Heckerling is the genius responsible for ‘Clueless’. Don’t you hate how strangely literal I’ve become… ;D

Author’s Note: *ducks a punch* Hey, no need for violence people! *Silver…I know it’s you…, put the rotten fruit back in your coat pocket missy…* Okay, I’m very sorry for the long wait on…well pretty much everything I’m working on at the moment. I know, I usually only torture you guys for a couple of days or so, but when you have a Muse that’s as big of a lush as mine, *Shakes her head* the poor thing just couldn’t stop hitting the bottle long enough for me to actually sit down and pen chappy 13 for you guys. Finally, after taking away the Jim Bean, and agreeing to do belly shots with her later…we came up with this. Enjoy ;D

And yes, it is rather short in my opinion, but I wanted to hold off on the goods until the final chappy ;D.

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

Spike stumbled to his feet as Will ran out of the tent, I know this probably makes me the villain of the piece, but I had completely forgotten about Will…and can you really blame me for being slightly miffed at her for ruining my smoochies?!

"Bloody hell." He sighed heavily, helping me to my feet. "I should go after her."

I shook my head, smoothing out my fairly disheveled clothing. I couldn’t let Spike be the one to do the talking, after all Willow was my second in command on the best friend front, plus guys are so utterly bad at situations like this he’d only fuck it up.

"No, you and your lips have done enough." I smiled. "I’ll do the damage control."

With my popular status and you know, the large amount of jealous females at Sunnydale, you would think I’d be an old pro at this. Truth be told, I’ve never been one to move in on a guy some other girl had her sights on…

It’s so great of me to start with one of my best friends in the world.

I found Wills slumped on the bench next to the cotton candy machine. I had never felt guiltier in my entire life! The guilt was pounding in on me from all directions and the fact that I could still taste Spike on my lips…so not helping the situation.

She looked up at me briefly, giving me a good glare before putting her head down again. I don’t like the Willow glare, it just seems, so unnatural, plus a little scary.

"Go away, Buffy."

"Okay."

I sighed, sitting down next to her. Come on, like that ‘go away, Buffy’ stuff was really going to work. We need to talk and I need to be absolutely honest with her for once. Of course the talking didn’t come as quickly as I had hoped it would. Awkward silence is becoming more painful than a leg wax…

"I should have known." She sighed loudly, sitting up.

"Wills, I’m sorry…"

"I mean, yeah I kinda suspected Spike had a thing for you, I just didn’t think I’d find out in living color like that."

Suspected?! Will suspected Spike had a thing for me…

"Suspected? What’s this about suspecting…"

"Come on, Buffy, it was so obvious." She sighed. "Stupid me for trying to ignore it."

"Yeah, cause all of the insults and the seething hatred just screamed crush…" I rolled my eyes.

Will may be a smartie, but when it comes to guys, I’m the genius and I know when a guy is jonesing for me…

"Technically…" She began. "Yeah."

Okay…maybe I don’t.

Willow gave me a sidelong glance, laughing softly. Hey, at least she’s laughing for whatever reason and as soon as Wills stops looking at me with seething hatred I’ll have it made…

"Bitch." She said with a grin.

I guess Will and I are going to be okay after all…

"Whore." I shot back with a grin of my own.

"Home-wrecker."

"Geek."

"Gosh Buffy, that one hurt."

"Sorry. I’m so sorry…"

"Vapid prima-donna."

"Carrot-top."

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

I found Spike still in the tent, pacing around like a mad man. I’d be a liar if I said it wasn’t completely adorable. He stopped at the sight of me, a nervous smile forming on his lips.

"Everything good?"

"Yep." I nodded.

Okay, I have to admit, the whole time on my way back to the tent I had this elaborate fantasy playing out in my mind. I dreamt that I would tell Spike everything with Willow had gone great (which it surprisingly had), and then he would sweep me up into his arms and make with the kissing again…

"That’s good." He mumbled, still pacing.

Instead he took to mumbling and wearing a hole in the ground.

"Okay, if you don’t stop doing that, I’m going to have to rip your legs off, Spike."

"Doing what?"

"The pacing! It’s, it’s making me dizzy."

He stopped (thank god) and smiled at me, rubbing his hands together. "Sorry, luv. I wasn’t sure how concerned I should look before I went right back to kissing you."

The unmistakable tingles reappeared and I was all ready and willing to get back to the kissing, actually breathing had become a second, less important priority at the moment, but at the same time I had evil Buffy talking in my ear…

"Who said anything about kissing?" I grinned.

Okay, I can hear you all screaming, I know you must think I’m completely insane, but I couldn’t help it. Evil Buffy was busy doing a tap-routine on my shoulder and she wanted to see Spike stew in his own juices for a while.

"Oh you’re bloody kidding me."

Score one for Evil Buffy…

"I mean, why would I be kissing you when I’m here with Oz?"

He chuckled, coming closer to me. "You’re a sodding comedian."

"Mmm-hmm."

He wrapped an arm around me, drawing me closer. Being this close to him, looking into his eyes, which had taken on the deepest shade of blue I had ever saw I swear I could feel everything else around us melting away. I unconsciously wet my lips, giving him a smile.

"We’ve got work to do."

"We do, don’t we." Spike whispered, his lips inches from mine.

"And we should get to that…the work, I mean."

"Right. Plenty of time to…talk, later."

"And we have a lot to talk about…"

It seems so cliché to say this, but I could actually feel my legs growing weak. There they were, those pouty lips inching closer towards mine…turning up into a smirk, a smirk?! What the hell is he smirking for?!

"Right." He said, quickly unwrapping his arms from around me. "We’ve got work to do, so I’ll talk to you later then?"

I glared as Spike walked out of the tent, laughing all the way. I’m supposed to be the one pulling the seduction routine here! I’m supposed to make him go all weak and kitteny, and groany from not getting any more smoochies, not the other way around!

That bastard…

TBC…

Part 14:

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

Okay, maybe I’m a little impatient.

I’ve practically gone an entire week without hearing one word from Spike, and it’s fine. I mean, I’m not one of those loser girls who sit by the phone waiting with baited breath for the guy they want to finally give them a ring. I could really care less that I haven’t seen or heard from him since the night of the carnival….

It was just one, tiny make out session and I’m not going to go all psycho just because we haven’t talked about it like we said we would.

His not calling or bothering to come by just means bastard Spike is back in control…and it really doesn’t phase me one way or another…

"Rosa! I told you stay off the main line, I’m trying to keep it open!"

What? Me playing phone commando has absolutely nothing to do with Spike.

Like I said, I could care less if he calls, but you know, in case he does, I just wanna make sure he can through…

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

"You’re freakin’ aren’t you?" Faith laughed, shoving the rest of the pizza into her mouth. I wonder how the hell is she able to eat like a pig and still keep that killer body? Maybe she has a tapeworm…

"I am not ‘freakin’."

"Yeah you are, it’s written all over face! So you and Bleached Blondie’s tongues got to know each other a little better and he hasn’t called you up to schedule the next grope-fest." She grinned. "Hence the freakin."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Why do I listen to anything you say…"

"Cause you know I’m right, B. Voice-O reason and all."

Okay, so she was right…in a way…alright, in a big way.

In the risk of sounding sappy and overly dramatic, Spike means a lot to me, kissing Spike meant a lot to me and the idea that maybe he didn’t really feel everything I did when our lips met, scared me. I hate being this vulnerable and stupid teenager like, but I’m in love here, the big, dangerous kind of love and I need the ‘yay’ or ‘nay’ from him before I continue to take the plunge.

God, that really did sound stupid and overly dramatic, huh?

Faith gave me a reassuring smile, propping her feet up next to me. "Don’t worry your pretty little head, you’ll hear from him."

"And if I don’t?"

"Then you know where to find me." She shrugged. "We’ll do the comfort food thing."

"That’s code for ‘breaking Spike’s legs’ isn’t it?" I smiled.

"You know it, B."

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

Art always remained a boring mystery to me.

One might think because my mom runs the most successful gallery in town, that I would be into looking at paintings I didn’t understand while listening to arrogant windbags make up deeper meanings about splatters on a canvas, but it never interested me at all…

Well, that was until the big Phallic Art exhibit…(no pun intended).

In the few times I had actually made a point to come to the gallery, I had never seen it this crowded…and mysteriously filled with teenagers. I won’t lie to you, of course I walked in with a cheeky grin on my face, expecting it to be like ‘Fertility God Playgirl’ in here, but surprisingly this stuff was beautiful in it’s own really weird, naked way. And not at all exciting in the ‘good down low tickle’ kind of way as Faith would say.

I was busy taking in the sight of the statue Kokopelli and secretly vowing to remain a virgin forever, when I felt it. A pair of big strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him…

"I don’t think I like you staring at this thing for so long, luv." He drawled in my ear. "I mean, I am only a mere mortal…those standards are impossible to live up to."

I could feel myself begin to turn into the standard puddle of goo at the sound of his voice combined with the feel of being in his arms, but I quickly recovered, shrugging him off. Just because Spike is here making with the lovey dovey doesn’t mean I’m magically not pissed about his not calling or not coming over, and all around general ignoring of me for an entire week! I don’t care how incredibly yummy he looked in that suit, with his hair all curly and mussed instead of slicked back….and god, did he smell good…

But I so don’t care!

"Wow, he still lives." I sneered at him, rolling my eyes. "Who woulda thunk it."

Spike sighed heavily. "I take it you’re mad."

"You think!" Jesus, when did guys become so stupid.

"I can explain…"

"Don’t bother." I said, turning to walk away. Spike grabbed my arm, stopping me, and pulled me through the crowd into the direction of the stairs. What the hell does he think he’s doing?!

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?!"

"Shut your gob for once, Buffy. We need to talk."

He dragged me into mom’s upstairs office (the one she practically never keeps locked like she should), and shut the door loudly behind us, backing me up against the wall.

I cut my eyes at him. "You’re getting really good at playing…" I was right at the point of insult, when he kissed me. It was nothing like our first kiss, this was hard, demanding, and passionate and you know all of those other adjectives they use in romance novels. I moaned into the kiss as he pulled me closer, his tongue had stopped it’s attack and went straight to the good, slow massaging…and whoa, I’ve never moaned from a kiss before…

Spike pulls away and he smiles at me, not a smirk, but the genuine smile that makes him undoubtedly the most beautiful man in the world.

"Caveman." I said breathlessly, finishing my insult. Hey, I never waste a good jab…

He chuckled, nibbling at my bottom lip, before giving me a brief kiss.

"Bloody right I am."

"You’re definition of ‘talking’ does not resemble our earth definition."

"My ‘talking’ is far more advanced…" He grinned, leaning in to kiss me again. I put a hand up between us, pushing him back, as much as I’m craving more smoochies, I want some answers dammit! I don’t sit by a phone for just anyone….not that I sat waiting by the phone…

"Uh-uh. You’ve got some s’plaining to do."

He sighed. "If I could have called or come to see you…you know I would’ve in a heart beat, luv…"

"Mmm-hmm…"

"But, it seemed like my professors all chose last week to loose their sodding minds, and I was so bogged down with work that I didn’t leave my apartment until today when I got a phone call from mum…"

"She’s not your ‘mum’…"

"Telling me about the exhibit opening." Spike smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Finding you here tonight was an unexpected surprise."

"So that’s it?!" I scoffed. You have got to be kidding me… "That’s your big excuse for leaving me hanging, you had homework?!"

"Yeah, it’s the truth, pet."

"Oh please…" I rolled my eyes. Homework?! Angel could tell me a better lie even when I caught him in the act….

"As long as I’ve been waiting to kiss you, to tell you how I’ve felt, do you really think I’d put myself through another week of not seeing you if I couldn’t help it?!"

"How long?" I asked in a tiny voice. Suddenly, I was feeling very stupid…

"How long what, luv?"

"Have you been waiting?"

Spike laughed, putting his arms around my waist, drawing me in closer. "Since I got of the bloody plane…back in ’99."

Did I mention what an incredibly slow learner I am?

TBC…

Part 16:

Rating: PG-13 fun for the whole dysfunctional family!

Disclaimer: It was going to be the best summer of our lives. Joss Whedon, Jane Austen, Amy Heckerling, and I had all piled into my dad’s old ’67 Chevy Van and were heading down the highway, blasting the Stones and eagerly awaiting the cliché teen-angst/growing up themes that lay just ahead of us. "Hey, Desire!" Jane called back to me, "What’s this about you forgetting to give us all credit in your story, what the hell’s wrong with you?! "Oh come on, Austen!" I huffed, "Everyone and their friggen mama knows that the characters in ‘The Matchmaker’ belong to Joss, and the plot is a friggen huge combination between your classic novel ‘Emma’ and Heckerling’s movie ‘Clueless’. I’ve said it like a thousand friggen times and you know it! There’s no way you’re getting out of flashing the next car, so shut up and show em your boobs!"

Author’s Note: So, sorry kiddies for the long wait. But you know how it is, RL gets in the way (trying to juggle upcoming college stuff, parents, parents, parents…hehe) and then of course there is the screaming pain that is writers block, and really that’s been the biggest problem of all. But, to those of you have stuck it out with me, a big ‘Thank You’. I finally deliver Chapter 16, with the next and last soon to follow.

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

Along with the ‘Young and the Restless’ drippy candles, satin sheets, and fuzzy camera effects like ideal I had for my first time, came the ‘Morning After’ ideal.

I always figured I would wake up all nice and snuggled next to my honey, getting in a few smooches despite the horrible morning breath…

Waking up completely and totally alone definitely not a part of the ideal.

I bolted upright in bed, pulling the covers up around me.

This is what I had feared the most, I was so terrible, so inexperienced that Spike didn’t even want to get a glimpse of Buffy bed hair. He probably got dressed and bolted out of here at the speed of light. No need to stick around to verbally tell me I sucked, nope, this got the job done just fine.

I sniffed back a few of the tears that were trying hard to roll down my cheeks. I’m not gonna cry, I’m stronger than that, much stronger. I’m gonna get out of this bed, get dressed and go downstairs for some breakfast with a smile on my face and my head held high…

I glanced over at the left side of the bed where Spike had been laying when I fell asleep, as the tears spilled over.

Maybe I’ll just go and have one of those good cries in the shower instead.

This just proves my ‘once a bastard, always a bastard’ theory when it comes to Spike. He’s a cold, inconsiderate asshole who’s…

"Mornin’ gorgeous."

Standing in my bedroom doorway with breakfast.

Oops. That’s me, jump to conclusions-and-assume-the-absolute-worse girl.

The smile on his face quickly faded once he saw me frantically wipe the tears away from my eyes, and he rushed by my side, putting the food down on the nightstand.

"Buffy, luv, what’s wrong?"

"I thought…you were…" I trailed off meekly, "you were gone."

Spike reached out a hand, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. "Yeah, I thought you might be hungry when you woke up, so I wanted to surprise you by making breakfast."

I looked briefly at the bag sitting on the nightstand, smiling at him. "You made me McDonalds?"

Spike chuckled, "My culinary skills aren’t exactly that of Jamie Oliver, luv. I must’ve burned a dozen pancakes before I finally realized that." He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. "Buffy last night was, the most amazing experience of my life," Spike grinned, kissing me again, "as cornball as that sounds, it’s true. Luv, you’ve got nothing to be insecure about. I love you. Everything about you, even the bed hair and the morning breath…I love. Trust me, I’m your guy, all wrapped around that pretty little finger of yours…"

My eyes widened as I quickly threw back the covers, jumping out of bed. Oh God…

"Where are you going? I thought we were having a bloody moment here…"

I don’t care how many couples on TV wake up next to each other and decide to shove their tongues down one another’s throats bad, horrible morning breath can suck all of the romance out of a relationship. Case in point: back when I was with Angel, Cordy threw a huge bonfire/kegger for the basketball team. Naturally, Angel got plastered and ‘just wanted to sleep next to me’ and that morning he greeted me with his tongue, and the lovely mix of Bud Light, nachos, Camels, and sinus it held…

"You smelled the breath!" I said as I slipped on Spike’s dress shirt, frantically buttoning it up. "There’s not going to be any more…moments until I go nuke this."

He laughed, grabbing me around the waist, yanking me back down into the bed.

"Conceited wench," he grinned, pulling my bottom lip into his mouth.

Oh well, morning breath be damned…

"Bastard."

"Mmm-hmm…" Spike mumbled, finally stopping with the teasing and deepening the kiss.

I’ve probably said this a million times by now, but every time Spike and I kiss, it’s like the entire world shuts out. Three of my five senses completely shut down, leaving me only with touch and taste. Not that, that’s a bad thing, it’s a very good thing, actually…

"Buffy?! Spike?!"

But hearing my bedroom door open and my mom walk in would have come in handy.

The mom scream is enough to sober up any drunk, and shatter any romantic moment. No matter how good the kissing is. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she had that look on her face, you know, the mix of shock and disappointment…

Spike chuckled nervously, inching away from me,

"Um…good morning, mum."

She smiled. Not a ‘good morning to you, too’ kind of smile, but the ‘Sadistic’ mom smile. You know the one that’s supposed to give you false reassurance before they unleash holy hell on you.

"Spike, you might want to start calling me ‘Joyce’ for a while."

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

Despite the highly embarrassing scene in my room that morning, everything with mom went surprisingly well. She’s completely cool with Spike and I being together; although she did lecture us on the dangers of unprotected sex and forced us to view the STD flowchart along with the finger puppets…

I swear I thought I burned all of that stuff after the first ‘Birds and Bees’ talk she gave me.

Anyway, that night, Spike and I decided to go on our first official date. And after quickly tiring of the stuffy French restaurant he dragged me to, (What’s with guys and the expensive restaurants on the first date? Not being able to pronounce a single thing on the menu, does not scream, romantic fun) we decided to head to the Bronze, and shamelessly make out in front of my friends.

Cordy cleared her throat loudly, practically pulling us apart. "Okay, I’m all glad you two are together, and in the ‘grope 24-7’ phase of your relationship, but, Spike I’m going to have to ask you to cool off for a second. The lady can’t talk to me with your tongue occupying her mouth."

"Please forgive me, Queen C."

"Whatever," Cordy rolled her eyes, "Buffy would you look at that."

"What?"

"Willow! Jumping around out there on the dance floor all by her lonesome. While, Oz is standing against the wall like a lump, giving her the stalker looks…" she said, taking a sip of her Diet Coke. "This is painful to watch! Those two should be together, practically screwing right in front of me, like you guys!"

"We’re not practically screwing…"

"You are going to fix this, right Buffy? I mean, this is your area of expertise. Sunnydale’s own little matchmaker." Cordy paused, adding, "Plus, it’s kinda your fault Willow shot him down in the first place."

I love Cordy, I really do, but sometimes I think the word ‘tact’ exists in a realm outside of her understanding.

"Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours, Cordy," I smiled, "Willow and Oz will be lonely little puppies no more. I’ve got a plan."

Come on?! How could she doubt me, hasn’t Cordy figured out by now I always have a plan?

TBC…