Ch. 11: Better than Ice Cream

When Buffy awoke from her emotional exhaustion-induced nap, she felt rejuvenated. Her dreams had been filled with Spike and Angel swordfighting and punching each other while Willow stood on the side, describing each of the outfits in her closet and its appropriate occasion. Oddly, Dawn was also there, whining and flipping her hair, hitting Angel in the face when he was trying to argue his point. She couldn't quite figure out what it all meant, but she knew one thing: this weirdness with Angel had to stop. She reached for the phone and dialed his number.

"Hi, Angel. It's Buffy." She tried to sound mature and determined, but in her mind she still sounded so naïve.

"Buffy! It's so good to hear your voice. I really enjoyed spending time with you today, you little skipper, you." Angel smiled as he reflected on their heavy petting session in his car; it turned him on to think he had gotten her to bend that straitlaced back of hers. He shifted the phone to hold in with his shoulder and moved his hands to slowly stroke himself. He wondered if she'd be into phone sex...

"Yeah. About that. I don’t think it was such a good idea, and I--"

"Sure it was," Angel interrupted. "We had a good time, didn't we? You sure sounded like you did," he leered.

Buffy mentally vomited when she heard Angel's lascivious tone; the thought of their make-out session only made her slightly queasy and not in the least bit turned on. His voice only strengthened her resolve.

"Angel, I just don't think things are going to work out. I mean, I'm still in high school, and I don't really want to skip school to make out in a car. I'm sure--"

"What? Are you breaking up with me? Why would you do that?" Angel was completely flabbergasted. He was assuming that the next date they'd be having sex, or at least oral sex. She'd seemed so eager to make out, and suddenly his hard-on seemed to go off.

"Well, were we even going out? We only went out a few times, and it's not like I ever called you my boyfriend." Buffy was starting to tire of Angel. They'd never really had great conversations, and this one was definitely bringing out Angel's arrogance. "Look, if you're trying to find someone to hang out with, then fine. But I'm just not really into skipping school for no good reason. I just feel like there should be more to two people than that." As she listened to Angel drone on about why Buffy was lucky to have someone like Angel, she started to throw her hair into a ponytail and get into study mode.

***

Spike was nervous, which seemed silly since he was just going over to Buffy's to work on the project. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He wasn't even sure she was expecting her, since they'd left each other so abruptly and angrily. After Buffy had stalked away from him, he'd thought about her words, his words, their interaction. He reflected on the night at the Bronze, when he had almost asked her to dance, his reaction when he'd seen her with Angel, his anger when he'd noticed the hickeys; after all his reflection, he had come to a decision: he was tired. He was tired of all their stupid spats and misunderstandings. Yes, she brought it out of him, but he allowed it. He was ready to apologize, work on their project, and hopefully have a comfortable time being in each other's presence. There was an attraction--he'd already admitted that--and there was no reason to make her get angry at him or vice versa. If nothing else, they could be friends. They already had most of the same classes and the same friends; it seemed stupid, his mind repeated, to succumb to their tendencies of yelling and biting insults. Armed with Ben and Jerry's, he rang the doorbell.

***

"Angel, it really has nothing to do with you. I mean, it does, but it doesn't. Does that make sense?" Buffy paused, trying to figure out how she could explain to Angel why she didn't want to see him anymore when she heard the doorbell ring. Cradling the phone in her shoulder, she walked down to get it. She opened the door and saw Spike.

"Hi, Buffy. I--" Spike was cut off by Buffy's hand and continuation of what seemed to be a heated exchange.

"Angel, that's not what I'm saying," Buffy retorted, exasperated. She was completely frustrated by his inability to understand her, and now she was utterly confused by Spike's presence at the door. She beckoned him to come in, hoping to finish the conversation before moving on to the next issue at hand.

Spike stepped into the foyer, his eyebrow cocked while listening to the animated discussion Buffy was having with Angel. It didn't sound good, and that pleased him. He followed Buffy into the living room and sat on the couch, leaving his backpack and ice cream on the coffee table.

"God, Angel, would you please just listen to what I'm saying? I just don't think I want to be in a relationship with a college guy. I'm sure you’re right in saying that lots of girls would love to date a college guy, but I'm just not one of them."

Angel was livid. He had flattered the girl, did the whole picnic thing, bought her brunch at an expensive restaurant, and she had the nerve to tell him she wasn't interested? He was at a total loss for words.

"Hello?" Buffy waited for his response. Frankly, she was tired of the conversation, of Angel, of her own behavior with him. It was all starting to leave a bad taste in her mouth.

"You know what? If you don't want to be with me, fine. I'm sure there are tons of other high school girls who are more than willing to take your place," Angel spat out, hoping his words would make her reconsider.

"You're completely right. And hey, why not try some college girls? There's a thought. Bye, Angel." She hung up the phone before he could make her wait five minutes for a dull response. She closed her eyes, as if cutting off her vision would make the world she'd created disappear.

"Buffy? You okay?"

Spike's voice broke in and reminded her of the next item on the agenda.

"Spike." She tried to make her voice sound angry, or even annoyed, but she only succeeded in sounding tired. Even drudging up his harsh words from earlier didn't get her blood boiling; Angel had already done that on his own, and she didn't have any more in her. However, persistence was key, and she stirred up the dregs. "What the hell do you want?"

Spike closed his eyes, breathed in, clenched his jaw, and then slowly looked at her. "Look, I know you weren't expecting me, and I know we get a little heated when we're together, so let me just say my piece without interrupting me. Please," he said, looking straight at her with his piercing blue eyes.

Buffy could only nod, taken aback by the seriousness of his voice and face.

"I wanted to apologize for my words earlier today. I don't know why I say those things to you. I don't mean them...You just say these things and I have to react, you know? Like it's the natural thing for me to do. I think we both tend to do that, because you've thrown a few mean things my way as well. But, if we could call it a truce, even if it's just so we get through this project alive, I'd appreciate it." He held out a pint of Mint Chocolate Chip.

Buffy's eyes widened at the ice cream and then looked up at him. And promptly burst into tears.

Spike was completely mystified. He'd braced himself for a biting comment or even an evil eye, but never had he even dreamed she'd cry. He moved forward and gently patted her on the back, hoping that his movements--awkward because of the pint of Ben and Jerry's--were at least remotely comforting.

Buffy felt pretty stupid, crying upon seeing a pint of ice cream, but she couldn't help it. It'd been a long day, and her body was tired of pretending everything was okay. She'd never imagined she'd be crying against Spike's warm and muscular chest (she was crying but not completely unaware). Attempting to regroup, she pulled herself up and breathed in slowly.

"I'm sorry," she said slowly, wiping away her tears. "It's been, well, a pretty shitty day." She smiled as he once again offered her ice cream, and she took it and the plastic spoon. Moving towards the couch, she muttered, "Can't be angry at someone who brings you ice cream."

"Well, that's why I did it, pet." Spike sat down next to her and gave her a napkin while pulling out his own spoon. "Ice cream is the best remedy."

"Totally. How'd you know Mint Chocolate Chip was my favorite?" Buffy asked, in between spoons of ice cream and sniffs of tears.

"Well, what'd be the point of bringing you ice cream if I didn't know your favorite? Gotta be prepared," he said confidently. "Actually, I didn't know. It's my favorite, and I was just being selfish," he said sheepishly, spooning a big hunk of cookie.

"It's a good thing we have the same taste." She smiled and wiped her mouth. "And how'd you know I really needed ice cream today?" she said as she sucked on a large cookie, leaning back into the sofa.

"I heard you and Willow talking about it, and how she wasn't going to be able to today. And we did actually set a time for meeting tonight." Spike licked a drop of ice cream off his thumb.

He looked so cute and vulnerable, a boy who was trying to catch every single drop of ice cream. He heart flipped, and she began to blush. "Well, thanks for the ice cream. It was really really nice of you." She lowered her eyelids and sucked on her dry spoon a little. "And I'm sorry, too. I know I can be a little mean sometimes."

Spike watched as her long lashes brushed against her skin. Her tongue flickered out to lick the spoon, and he felt his insides melt a little. She looked so cute, her face flushed from the cry, hair messily tied up into a ponytail. She seemed so exposed--which made him want to protect her--but he was more than aware of how strong and independent she was. He grinned at this contrast and reached in for more ice cream, only to be met by her own spoon.

"Oh, sorry." They both laughed a little, as they had each gone for the huge chunk of cookie.

"No, go ahead and take it," Buffy said, pushing it towards his spoon.

"No, I brought it for you." Spike moved it against her spoon.

"No, really. I insist. Consider it a thank you." She removed her spoon from the pint and left it for him.

"Well, okay." He began to lift the spoon to his mouth when he saw her watching. He chuckled and began moving it towards her. "Really. You eat it. The longing is all over your face, luv."

"No, it's yours. Hurry up before it melts!" she said, pushing his arm away.

"You better eat it then. Your mom's not going to like ice cream on her rug." Spike moved towards her again.

"No, just--"

"Will you just eat it, pet? I'm trying to be nice here."

"Fine." She opened her mouth and let him feed her. Suddenly, the intimacy of the situation struck both of them, and the moment was left with Spike's spoon awkwardly dangling from Buffy's mouth.

He quickly removed the spoon and then wiped his hands on the napkin. "So, having troubles with the college boy?"

Buffy let out an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, Angel. I can't believe I made out with him." She viciously attacked the pint again. "Yeah, trouble. Like no more Angel trouble," she said petulantly.

"So your boyfriend is out?" Spike ventured, wanting to confirm the result of the conversation he'd eavesdropped on.

"Boyfriend? Why would you call him my boyfriend? It's not like we went out all that many times," Buffy countered, her emotions from before returning, making her face flushed.

"Well, I just assumed it was your boyfriend giving you hickeys. Ouch!" He rubbed his arm where she had punched him.

"God, you're such a pig. Don't you know you're not supposed to talk about those things with girls?"

"It was a simple question. And didn't your mum teach you not to hit people?" Spike retorted, his voice filled with feigned hurt, his lower lip slightly pouting.

Buffy stared at him and then began laughing. Spike looked surprised, completely confused about her outburst of laughter.

"What?" he asked, wanting to know what she was laughing at. "What?"

Buffy just continued to laugh, the ice cream in her mouth threatening to spew all over the floor. Finally, she gathered her strength and gasped out, "You're pouting!" She began shrieking again.

Spike glared at her and grabbed the pint of ice cream from her hand. "It's not very nice to laugh at people. For that, I'm finishing the ice cream."

Suddenly, Buffy sobered up. "No, no. I'm not laughing anymore. Really. Let me have more," she pleaded, reaching for the pint.

"Nope," Spike said smugly, glad to have the upper hand once again. "No more ice cream for you. That'll teach you to laugh at people." He grinned and shoved another spoonful of Mint Chocolate Cookie into his mouth.

Buffy continued to reach for the ice cream, only to be outstretched by Spike's long arms. "Please," she whined, trying to pout and look sorrowful while sneakily snatching for the container. He laughed at her lame attempts to trick him and continued to taunt her with large cookie chunks. However, Buffy was stubborn; she kept moving closer, and he kept inching back, until she found herself half on top of him in the corner of the couch, the ice cream held out above Spike's head and their heads within inches of each other.

The world seemed to stop, and the air simply hung around them in thick wafts of moist, minty breath. Buffy felt like she should move, not stay on top of Spike, break the awkwardness of their proximity--but his body felt really nice against hers, and he didn't seem to mind her weight.

Spike could feel his own heart battering against hers, and there was a small spot of chocolate on the side of her lips that he really wanted to lick off, but he wasn't sure how he'd react to it. Instead, he brought his hands down slowly, took his spoon, and dangled the last bit of ice cream in front of her lips.

Buffy automatically opened her mouth, not even thinking to take the spoon from him or at least move her body. She felt the cool taste in her mouth and let her tongue savor the delectable flavor. Her eyes fluttered momentarily, and then, finishing the ice cream, gradually shifted her body away from his.

Spike took the empty carton and spoons and put them on the coffee table. "Damn good ice cream," he said quietly, glancing at Buffy.

"Yeah. Damn good."

***

"So you don't think we should do a video? Because if we do some kind of video, then we don't have to perform in front of the class." Buffy was clicking and unclicking her pen, trying to think up something original but not too work-intensive for their project. After they had cleaned up their ice cream, they had decided to dive into study mode, which had turned out to be rather pleasant. Joking and working, they'd developed an easy rapport, making their time together particularly enjoyable, to the surprise and satisfaction of both.

"Good point, luv. I'm just tryin' to suss out who's going to do what. We can't have both of us on screen and behind the camera at the same time. Just won't work." Spike ran his fingers through his hair and tapped a pencil on his notebook, attempting to brainstorm new and crazy ideas.

"Hey, I've got it!" Buffy's eyes brightened, her idea making her face sparkle. "Why don’t we do a music video? Get a song that sort of conveys the tone of the book and then pretend we're VJs or something, giving a little bit of background to the thing. We could even do a couple of videos, to copy the different settings and tones and stuff."

"That's a bloody brilliant idea!" He jumped up and started pacing the room, ideas spouting. "I'm sure me and the guys could come up with something, even if it's just instrumental. And you and I could play the main characters, just with you changing your outfit or something for a different character. And we could do scenes outside and by the beach, and we could use the video editing machine at the library to fix it up, or I can just get Willow to help us out with her skills. Bloody brilliant," he said again, grabbing his notebook and furiously jotting down ideas.

"Yay, me! I am so brimming with good ideas." She grinned again, eager to get started on their project. "But before we start planning the nitty-gritty, let's get that paragraph written. Come on, I'll type it. The computer's in my room." She jumped up, grabbed her notes, and bounded upstairs, Spike close on her heels.

Right as they entered Buffy's room, the phone rang. Spike sat on her bed while she answered it.

"Hello? Hey, Wills." Buffy reached down to turn on the computer as she chatted. Spike kicked off his boots and sat on her bed, continuing his perusal of the quotes on her wall while making himself comfortable as he waited.

"No, I'm fine. Actually, I called him this afternoon. Yeah, and I told him it was over, whatever it was. And he was such an ass about it. So glad I stopped that before it became kinda ugly."

Spike heard the confirmation of Buffy's single-status and smiled to himself. Inspired, he jotted down a quote and taped it on her wall.

"Yeah, I know. But I gotta go. Spike's here, and we're working on the project. Yes, we are." Buffy quickly glanced at Spike, who seemed engrossed in reading the quotes above her bed. "Shut up, Willow," she whispered. "I'll talk to you later. Maybe tonight. Okay. Bye," she said. Buffy hung up the phone and then sat at her desk. "Okay," she said as she swiveled to look at Spike. " Let's get this baby over with."

***

"Yes, I think five paragraphs of explanation about cover the assignment," Spike said, exasperated with Buffy's overzealous response to the assignment. "She only asked for one paragraph. I think we're done." He stretched out on her bed and let out a huge, obnoxious yawn. "Can't even begin to imagine how long it's going to take when we actually start recording."

"You know what? I'm just trying to do my best, get an A. I thought we were working towards the same thing here. And get your feet off Mr. Gordo."

"Oh, is Buffy scared of Mr. Gordo being squished by my feet? Maybe I should just sit on him instead, stuff him in between the wall and the mattress?" he teased, pulling on the pig's pink ears.

"Why is that necessary? Do you enjoy torturing innocent pigs?" Buffy accused as she rescued her poor stuffed friend. She smacked Spike on the thigh and then began printing out the assignment. "Anyway, we're done. Sorry it was so painful for you," she said sarcastically.

"Hey, I think it's a great paper. I'm just saying that you didn't have to write a novel." He stood up and stretched again. "And I should probably get going."

Buffy turned around and saw his abs peek out from his raised t-shirt--a result of his stretching. She tried not to fantasize about rubbing her body against those hard muscles and grabbed the paper from the printer. "All done."

They both headed out of her room and back down to the living room, where all their books were. "So, you gonna hold onto it and turn it in tomorrow?" Spike asked as he packed his bookbag.

"Sure. And both our names are on it." She started packing her own bag as well to ready herself for tomorrow.

"And you're sure you'll be there tomorrow? No making out with Angel?" he taunted, just to hear her tell him they were over.

"God, will you stop? No more Angel. What are you, jealous?" she threw out, just curious and a bit hopeful about his reaction.

"Why should I be jealous? I'm pretty sure I know how you feel about me," he said cockily, throwing her a charming grin.

"Geez, cocky much?" she retorted, not letting the flush on her face fluster her. She began walking towards the front door, knowing that he was about to leave. Abruptly, she turned to look at him. "Thanks again for the ice cream. This was really, well, fun. And comfortable, once we stopped fighting. Thanks for making that first effort," she said quietly, fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt.

"I've been meaning to, for some time. Make the effort. Knew we'd get along," he said sincerely, smiling softly at her. "Tomorrow we've got a gig at the Bronze. Come watch?" he asked, slinging on his backpack.

"Sure," she said as she opened the door for him. She felt the cool air against her face and welcomed it, hoping it'd steady her racing pulse. "See you tomorrow, Spike."

He reached out, touched her shoulder lightly, and then brushed back a lock of air that had been blown astray by the night breeze. "Tomorrow, pet." And then he walked to his car.

Buffy closed the door and then leaned on it for a while, still feeling his light contact on her. "What a strange day. Strange strange strange." She pushed off the door and headed up the stairs. "And why is he so damn hot?" she muttered.

She threw off her sweatshirt and flopped onto her bed. After resting her eyes for a while, she looked up to be greeted by a new quotation on the wall. "He must have done that while I was on the phone with Willow," she thought to herself. Crawling on her knees, she moved forward to get a closer look.

"First fight. Then fiddle."
~ Gwendolyn Brooks
but what do you think she means by "fiddle"?

Buffy's eyes grew wide, trying to fully process what he was insinuating. She felt she should be mad, or offended, or something. But all she could do was fall back onto her bed with a silly grin on her face, his smirk accompanying her to sleep.

Ch. 12: Doors Opening

"So you totally broke things off with Angel?" Willow squealed into the phone, trying to hold the phone and eat ice cream.

"Yup. And it felt really good." Buffy licked the remains of Chunky Monkey off her spoon. The girls had decided to do late-night long-distance girl-bonding, just to keep up traditions. It wasn't their fault that Willow's mom was being unreasonable; the girls had to be resilient, and so they were doing their best to maintain sanity.

"That's really good. I didn't say it at the time, but I didn't really like him. He just seemed a little slimy. I mean, not slimy in that he went for you, but slimy in trying to get you to skip school and just make out in a car and stuff. Not that you're not worth making out in a car with, but just kinda slimy. You know?" Willow finished lamely.

"Yeah, I know. I guess I kinda knew he was from the beginning. And that's probably why I didn't really say anything to you about him, because I didn't want you to tell me that. But it was nice, having someone pay attention to me," Buffy said wistfully. "But now I can say I sort of had a boyfriend and I sort of dumped him! That's something, right? I can join the 'I've dumped a guy. Ask me how' club. Do they give out buttons or bumper stickers? 'Cause that'd be cool."

Willow giggled. "I'm glad you're back to Buffy goodness. I was gonna get a little worried if things with Angel got serious."

"Ah, Angel, my first love. Whatever. My first kiss, my first a couple other things, but not quite my first love," Buffy said flippantly. "Like I don't already have a first love," Buffy muttered under her breath.

Willow stayed silent, not commenting on Buffy's last sentence, assuming she hadn't wanted anyone to hear it. Willow sucked thoughtfully on her spoon and then asked, "So what are you doing tomorrow night? Do you have to meet with Spike to work on the project?"

"No, not tomorrow. He has a gig, remember? Are you going to go?" Buffy asked, not quite ready to say that Spike had personally asked her to go. It seemed too little to the outside world and so major to her inside world; she wasn't willing to share that fragile piece of information.

"On a school night? Not sure if crazy Mom Rosenberg will let me out. Maybe if we say we're studying, and the Dingoes just happen to be supplying live background music?" Willow said hopefully.

"Sure thing. You can even say we're at my house. If she calls, my mom'll just tell her we took a quick break at the Espresso Pump or something."

"Your mom is so cool. You are so lucky," Willow said, her voice tinged with envy.

"Yeah, well, you have a cool boyfriend. So there," Buffy retorted.

"Yeah, I do." Willow giggled. "Ugh, I think I'm going to have to stop eating." Willow groaned into the phone.

"Yeah, me, too." This being her second ice cream binge of the day, she was starting to feel a little sick. She had a niggling feeling, that she should share her little ice cream moment with Spike, but she wasn't ready to share that yet either. "Okay, I guess we'll call it a night, then? And tomorrow I promise to be at school on time."

"Okay, I'm holding you to that promise. See you tomorrow morning?"

"Yup. Goodnight, Wills."

"Goodnight."

***

The next day passed uneventfully, aside from Xander's little nap during Physics--which was quickly ended when he woke himself up when he, well, cut something smelly. It was not one of his shining moments.

The afternoon passed eagerly, with Buffy and Willow both getting ready for the gig at the Bronze--each dressing for a particular man, though Willow was obviously more open about hers.

"I feel kinda naughty, lying to my parents and sneaking to a concert," Willow said excitedly.

"Um, if we were going more than 10 minutes from my house, and if we were seeing a band that you didn't see every week, it might be a little naughty. But I don't think this counts," Buffy teased as she threw on a mini skirt--the third outfit in eight minutes.

"Ruin my fun, why don't you. We don't all skip school to make out in--oomph!" Willow's taunts were cut off by a viciously thrown sweater. "Hey! God, are you changing again?"

"Look, I just want to look good, you know, now that I'm on the market again." Buffy turned to look in her closet again to hide her blush. She really did want to look good, hot even. She had no idea if Spike meant anything by the invitation, but she wanted him to stop and look this time. She'd never thought clothes made much of a difference till Angel had shown his interest. Now she wanted to use everything in her repertoire to gain Spike's attention, since her words tended to be less than effective and often counterproductive.

"Are you ready? I thought we could get there early, maybe eat a little and watch them set up," Willow said as she brushed her hair.

"Yes, I think I am finally ready." Buffy pulled on a pair of leather pants, a form-fitting tank with a cowl neck, and boots. Putting on her earrings and giving her hair a final fluff, she turned to Willow. "Do I look okay?"

Willow turned to her with a critical eye. "Yes. Are you thinking you might see Angel? Is that why you're going all out?"

Buffy latched on to Willow's excuse. "Yes. That--That's exactly what I'm doing. Gotta make him see what he no longer has, you know?"

"Well, you look awesome. Let's go get 'em."

***

Buffy was enjoying herself, letting the music spin over her. She and Willow were bouncing around to the music, not caring what they looked like or who they were bumping into in the process. She was laughing and grinning madly when she happened to glance at the edge of the dance floor. Her smile slowly faded when she saw Angel making out with Faith, her flexible body straddled and draped over Angel's, his hands roaming all over her voluptuous body. As the music ended, Buffy walked, dazed, over to their table and sat down.

"What, Buffy? A minute ago, you were all bouncy. And now..." Willow's voice trailed off as she followed her friend's gaze. "Oh. Gross. What a slut," Willow said contemptuously.

"Yeah, well. Guess I was just first in a line of high school girls for him." Buffy picked at a napkin.

"You want me to get you something? I'll get you something red and sparkly. It'll bring back that smile. That stupid boy isn't worth frowning over. You want me to kick him while I'm going over there?" Willow asked, putting her loyal-best-friend look on her face.

Buffy smiled slightly. "No big. I dumped him, remember? A drink would be great." She watched as her friend walked away, leaving her alone at the table. As much as she was enjoying herself with Willow, the night was not quite matching her expectations. Though Spike had personally invited her, he had yet to come and talk to her, aside from the casual banter with the entire group. He'd said hi, but it wasn't anything special, as hard as she tried to imagine something beyond. She glanced over at Angel and Faith again, going at it like they had their own private hotel room--make that motel room. Not that she even cared that Angel had moved on--it was more that he had dismissed her so easily. Of course, she had done the same to him, but she didn't really care much about how he felt. Letting a disgusted sigh slip from her lips, she glared at the couple again.

"Guess he likes the high school taste, though this one's a little lower class. Stupid wanker doesn’t realize what he lost." His voice was so close to her ear, tickling it with its purring low vibrations. Her breath quickened, his proximity warming her. She paused, savoring his voice, and then turned to answer him. But he was gone. A few moments later she heard that same voice reverberating through the Bronze, beginning the band's next set. Her skin flushed with excitement, and she leaned back into her chair, finally breathing again, a slight smile settling on her mouth.

***

"Great set, guys! Oz, you were awesome! Wasn't my boyfriend awesome?" Willow exclaimed, her face shining with pride. Oz brought her close and held her, saying much with his heavy gaze. Willow blushed and kissed him. "Are you ready to go yet?"

"Not yet. Gotta pack up the van." He continued to coil the cords and box up the mikes. "I can drive you home afterwards, but I was thinking we could maybe snack or something? Back at my house?" Oz quietly spoke with Willow, and they seemed completely caught up in each other.

Buffy glanced around, not wanting to be the third wheel, she said, "You know, I can just walk home."

"No, Buffy, we can drive you home. Really, you shouldn't walk home by yourself," Willow said quickly. She glanced at Oz, and he nodded. "It's really no big."

"No, Willow, take advantage of being out with an excuse. You wanted to be naughty. Be naughty," she teased, poking Willow in the side. "You know I've walked home a million times."

"Yeah, but it's a school night, and it's later than usual." Willow bit her lip, wanting to go off with Oz but not wanting to abandon her friend.

"I can take her home," Spike interjected. "I mean, I can walk her home. I don't have my car tonight, but I can easily walk from her place to mine. If that's okay with Buffy," he said, turning to her and looking at her fully, for the first time all night.

Buffy blushed and tried to speak nonchalantly. "Yeah, that's fine. I mean, if you don't mind walking home from my house."

Willow's eyes widened slightly, grinned, and then said, "Great. So then, we'll see you tomorrow? And if my mom calls, I'm in the bathroom?" She gave Buffy a quick hug and then whispered in her ear, "Call me later."

Buffy hugged her and whispered back, "You, too, you naughty girl."

The guys finished packing the van, and everyone walked off--Oz and Willow to the van, Devon to his car, and Buffy and Spike to the street.

The night was quiet and clear, stars shining and evening air cooling flushed skin. Buffy and Spike walked in silence for a bit, each incredibly aware of how they were not touching.

"So, you guys were good tonight. Couple new songs?" Buffy asked lightly, trying to make conversation to distract her.

"Well, they're not that new; we just hadn't played them yet. I have a few new songs in the works, but we haven't actually performed them yet." Spike glanced at the slim girl next to him. She was definitely hot tonight, her outfit clearly showing off her curves, but there was still a touch of girlish innocence in her face, her eyes, that sparkled and drew him in.

"That's so cool, that you write music, you know? I mean, I wish I could do that. Music, writing, stuff like that. Maybe that's why I think it's so cool, because I can't." Buffy bit her lip, trying to rein in her babbling. She could barely hear what she herself was saying above the loud pounding of her heart. Her palms were moist, and she wiggled and swung them, hoping the night air would dry them up.

"You know, if you want, I could play some of them for you, like a preview or something. I could use some feedback, have you tell me how it sounds." He ran his fingers through his hair and breathed in deeply, enjoying the crispness of the evening. The stars were brightly shining, and they made his insides fly with beauty.

"I'd love to. That'd be--yeah, I'd really like that." Buffy grinned at him and then went back to airing her palms. She looked up at the sky, enjoying the starry skies above. She'd always loved staring into the night, pretending she could fly through the skies and feel the wind pushing her higher and higher. "It's sort of painful, you know? The beauty. It's so overwhelming that it makes my heart feel a little weird, pained. I don't know if that makes sense at all, but that's just how it seems to me." Why she had said those things she couldn't say. Normally those thoughts were private, only written out in her journal, but the intoxicating air seemed to loosen her tongue and Spike curiously made her comfortable enough to say these things. She waited for his response, but he didn't say anything. Ashamed at sharing so much and scared that her strange thoughts had pushed him into silence, she reverted to shaking her hands again.

And then she felt Spike's hand furtively slip into her own, easily fitting into hers and warming her completely. She worked hard to keep walking, because all she wanted to do was fall into an astonished heap and giggle with giddiness. She kept her eyes on the ground and tried not to let her excitement at the simple gesture proclaim itself all over her face.

"Exactly, luv. Painfully beautiful," he murmured. Her thoughts fully echoed his own, and they began to swirl into the beginnings of a song. He couldn't say why he had decided to hold her hand, what had pushed him to finally make contact with her skin, but he had to. He couldn't say why he decided to hold her hand, what pushed him to finally make contact with her skin, but he had to. It was natural, necessary. And now that he had done it, he couldn't imagine it any other way, couldn't imagine that he could walk along the deserted street under the milky moon and not hold her hand.

She couldn't say anything, the tender caresses of his thumb rendering her completely speechless, in the best way. They continued in silence all the way to her house until the porch forced them to stop and speak.

Buffy turned to look at him, her hand falling from his. "Thank you for walking me home," she said quietly, glancing up at him, the coy effect of her glance further melting Spike's affection.

"No problem, pet. Knew we'd be good once we stopped fighting," Spike teased softly, gradually moving closer to her as he spoke. He'd watched her all night, dancing crazily and laughing freely, her body comfortably moving beneath his secret gaze; he hadn't planned the walk home, but he had known that the night would not end without his lips tasting hers.

Buffy's heart quickened again, if such a thing were possible. She glanced down again when she felt his hand touch his cheek. When his hand stilled, she hazarded a look at him and was caught by his piercing blue eyes. Like an intense storm, she found herself overwhelmed, exhilarated, and completely drenched. Her tongue unconsciously peeked out, as if to taste the rain, and then she felt him nearing, their breaths mingling, their bodies drawing closer.

His head bent down, and finally their lips joined, tentatively, gently, totally.

Buffy's mind whirled dizzily; his lips were soft and thrilling and perfect and spinning her into an eddy of pleasure and overpowering joy.

Spike's mind dove poetically; she tasted like the sweetness of summer after a shower, like honeysuckles on a sunny day, like fresh and cooling breezes at dusk with the sun falling into the horizon.

Both luxuriating in each other's touch, they finally broke for breath. Spike squeezed Buffy's hand and caressed it gently. They lingered for a while, and then finally he spoke.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then, Buffy." He smiled and then watched as she turned to open her door.

"Tomorrow." She licked her lips again and then smiled in return, watching him as he turned to walk home.

The door closed, but a different door opened, allowing a rush of emotions weave through the intricacies of each, moistening both with affectionate and hungry desire.

Ch. 13: Song for the Open Heart

"So, what? You just woke up one day and realized you wanted her?" Xander asked bluntly as he sunk a ball into the corner pocket.

"What? Don't be stupid. That'd be ridiculous," he retorted while lighting up.

"Not that I'm complaining. I think you and Buffy are great. I'm just curious where it came from. You never talked much about it before." He moved around to prepare for his next shot, which he promptly missed.

"Why do you try to make things so complex, when life is so clearly complex?" Spike asked as he moved to take his turn. He banked the ball and made a difficult shot. He sauntered over to make his next shot, an easy one perfectly set up; he missed.

"Why do you try to make things so complex, when life is so clearly simple?" he retorted, patting Spike on the back as he moved past him to shoot.

"Simple for simpletons like you," he commented, taking a drag from his cigarette while leaning back on a pole. "You know Buffy and I have always fought. But I guess I kinda liked it, like there was electricity, even though it was mean. When we finally stopped the fighting, the electricity was still there. He rubbed the chalk on his stick as Xander moved out of his way after missing. "Side pocket. And when I saw her with Angel, I felt something. Jealousy? Don't know. Just realized that maybe I should be a little more proactive and do something about it. For a while, I thought I was too late." He eyed the table to figure out how to maneuver around Xander's stripes. "Kiss off the 3 into the corner pocket. But then she figured out what an ass he was, and I got my shot." He swung the cue around his back to position himself for the final shot.

"Way to show off. You could just use the rack," Xander said, annoyed by his losing state.

"Nah. The rack's for pussies." He carefully cocked his arm and then made a clean shot, sinking the eight ball. "And that's game."

"So now you're all cocky? How do you know Buffy's gonna go for you? I mean, it's great that you guys kissed and all, but are you gonna make it official?" Xander asked, setting up the table for another round.

"Yeah, eventually. It's not like I don't want to or anything. It's just sort of weird, you know? I mean, call her up and ask her to be my girlfriend? Seems old fashioned. How did you get it with Anya?"

"Anya? Simple. She asked me. Simplicity, my friend. That's the answer. My advice is--" He paused, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Hold on. It's Anya." He turned away to talk to his girlfriend.

"Whipped." He finished setting up the balls and then strode to the other side of the table to break. He had already cleared half the table when Xander finally returned. "Yeah? What'd she want?"

"Uh, you in the mood for shopping?" Xander asked.

"What kind of stupid question is that? When am I ever in the mood for shopping?" Spike muttered. "Is that what she wanted?"

"Yeah, we're supposed to go to the mall for my birthday present. You want to come?"

"With the two of you?" Spike said, his tone incredulous. "No thanks."

"Come on, Spike. You gotta help me out here. If you're there she might not embarrass me as much. Two against one I might have a fighting chance. Please? Help out a fellow friend," Xander pleaded.

"Fine. But she's not draggin' me into any lady shops. I'd rather gouge my eyes out." He returned the cue sticks and balls to the bartender. "You owe me."

"I always do. Let's go." They both headed for Xander's car to pick up Anya.

***

"I can't believe you didn't call me last night," Willow complained, pouting. "Where's the love, I ask?" They walked leisurely through the mall, window shopping to put off their studying plans.

"The love was with Oz, last night, apparently," Buffy retorted, poking the redhead in her tickle zone. She laughed at the blushes, dodging Willow's attempts to swat her away.

"I see we're in a good mood today. Anything interesting happen that you'd like to tell your best friend?" she queried, innocence oozing from her green eyes. They turned into a small café and waited in line to get coffee.

"Well, I don't know about that. Do you have any naughty things you want to tell me? I'm thinking that we should go for a trade--not that I have anything to share, just hypothetically speaking," she teased, her eyes sparkling. Buffy wasn't used to actually having something to tell. She was dying to tell Willow all the details, but she could tell that Willow wanted to give as well. This time there'd be a fair sharing all around. After getting their coffee, they seated themselves at a small table by the window.

"There's no point in denying it. You know how bad you are at lying, and your face says way too much. So spill. I will if you will." Willow waited, anxious to hear how things had turned out.

"Well, since you asked nicely..." she said slowly, licking the whipped cream off the top of her drink. "After you guys left, he walked me home. And it was really really nice." Her eyes glazed a little, remembering how sweet he had been and how beautiful the walk had been.

"Hey, don't zone on me! I'm still waiting for the smoochies," Willow protested.

"Okay, okay. So we're walking home, talking about random things--you know me--and then he held my hand." She blushed, the memory still bringing flutters.

"Aww, that is so sweet! I can't believe it! Spikie's a big ol' softie!"

"Hey, you better not say anything. I don't really know what it meant to him, but I don't want this to be public till I get some confirmation. Got it?" she warned, pointing her finger viciously.

"Okay! Geez, won't say anything. Not even to Oz?" she ventured.

"No, not even to Oz. Just wait a little bit longer. Anyway, you haven't let me finish my story."

"You interrupted yourself! Go on."

"So we're walking home, holding hands, and then we get to the door. And I go to the door and turn around to tell him goodnight and thanks for the walk and all that--" she paused dramatically.

"And?" Willow asked, her eyes eager.

"And then he kissed me. He kissed me. He kissed me, Willow!" she squealed, shaking her friend.

"That's so awesome! Was it good? I guess so," she commented, when they finally stopped bouncing.

"Oh, god, Willow. It was amazing. I know I don't have that much experience, just Angel the dork, but I thought he was a pretty good kisser at the time. But now? Man, he was nothing. This kiss was just, well, amazing. So amazing. God, Willow, I thought I was going to melt into a puddle and at the same time I just wanted to hold onto him forever."

"Good kisses. They are very important in life. I totally know what you mean. When Oz kisses me, I just feel like the world spins out of control and stops at the same time."

"Exactly. It was just perfect." She paused, taking a sip of coffee, her brow slightly furrowing. "The thing is, I don't know what we are. I mean, it's not like he asked me out. Life would be a lot simpler if he just, you know, came up and said, 'Hey, you wanna be my girlfriend?' No, he just kisses me and makes my heart drop into my knees and then says, 'See ya tomorrow!'" She pouted, resting her chin on her hands.

"I see your point. But did he say anything afterwards?"

"No, he just said 'See you tomorrow' and then left. You see my dilemma? I mean, how am I supposed to act now? And was it just a random hookup? Like, in the moment he wanted to kiss me but that doesn't necessarily mean that he wants something more? I know that some people do that--go to parties and make out and then are completely the same when they see each other. I suppose that's possible, but that's not really what I want. And I'll feel stupid if that's what it was to him, because I thought it was so much more than that, but I don't want to say anything to him because I don't want him to know that it meant so much to me--"

"Whoa!" Willow interrupted. "Slow down that train, Buffy. You don't know anything yet. Just sort of wait it out and see how he acts the next time you see him, which may be sooner than you thought," she said, observing the people outside the window.

"What? What do you mean?" she asked, her face questioning.

"Hey, guys," Willow called out to the space behind Buffy.

Buffy's eyes grew wide and her face flushed slightly. She waited a moment before turning around to see Xander, Anya, and Spike.

"Hey guys!" chirped Anya, her arm around Xander's. "What's up?"

Xander waved, and Spike nodded. Buffy's heart sank, noting that he didn't seem to single her out in his greeting.

Seeing that Buffy was still in shock, Willow took over. "We're just hanging, you know, before study group tonight. You guys gonna get something? You can sit with us. Pull up some chairs." She reached over to grab some of the empty chairs at the next table.

"Actually, Xander and I have to go check out Victoria's Secret because his birthday is coming up and I want to get something for me, but you know actually for him. That kind of thing. And Spike refused to come, so it's cool that we ran into you guys. Looks like you just sat down?" she asked, observing the full mugs of coffee before the girls. "So Spike can sit with you guys while we shop and then we can meet up with you afterwards. Now you don't have to blind yourself, Spike," she said brightly. "See you guys in a little bit," she called out while dragging Xander off.

"Uh, yeah. See you guys later," Xander said, his face completely flushed by Anya's comments and directness in making out their plans. "Later, Spike."

Buffy still sat silently, so Willow tried to see how she could make things better. "So, Spike. What possessed you to go shopping with Xander and Anya?"

Spike grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Actually, Xander and I were shooting pool, and then Anya called. You know how she gets when she wants to do something. Xander couldn't say no, and since I didn't have anything better to do, I came along." He shrugged nonchalantly. "What about you guys? Any particular reason for comin' out?"

Willow subtly nudged Buffy under the table, willing her to talk, grunt even. Buffy glared at her friend and pursed her lips, as if cementing them shut. Willow sighed and then put on her resolve face. She smiled at Spike. "Sorry you had to be subjected to Anya's whims. Let me buy you something. Mocha? As usual? Good. Be right back." She looked pointedly at Buffy before leaving the table, not allowing Spike to protest, which he was about to do.

Buffy's eyes widened in seeing her friend leave so purposely, and her eyes got even bigger when she saw Spike looking at her.

Spike was about to say something when Buffy leaped to her feet. "I, uh, want Willow to get me something else. Be right back," she blurted. He sat back, wondering what had just happened in the past five minutes.

"Willow!" she whispered fiercely, grabbing her friend's arm. "I can't believe you just did that to me!"

"Buffy, you did not just leave him alone. Go back there and talk to him!" Willow said, exasperated.

"What am I supposed to say? I was just saying how I didn't know how I was going to act around him, and then you dump me alone with him! That's not very nice of you," she accused.

"Just act normal. Talk about the test we're studying for. Ask about his next gig. Just get your butt back there before he thinks you're a total nut case!" she commanded, pushing her friends back towards the table.

"Fine. Don't want him to think I'm crazy. Oh, you have to get me something, because that was my excuse. Something with chocolate. I need the support." She thrust some bills into Willow's hand, took a quick breath, and then went back to the table.

Spike looked at her questioningly when Buffy came back to the table. "Got what you needed?" he asked as she sat back down at the table.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Got it. Needed a chocolate fix," she said as she began fidgeting with her napkin.

"You okay? Is something wrong? You seem upset or something," he said, his voice concerned.

Her head shot up, and she made eye contact with him for the first time. "No, nothing. I didn't mean to come across like that. Didn't get much sleep."

He cocked his eyebrow at her response, and she quickly said, "I mean, I was just reading a book and got into it and ended up sleeping later than I thought." She congratulated herself for thinking so quickly.

"I didn't get much sleep last night either, but not because of a book." He looked at her fixedly.

Buffy blushed under his gaze, completely incapable of saying anything comprehensible.

"What, no witty comeback?" he teased, leaning forward.

"It's gotta be witty to be worth a comeback," she retorted, challenged into speaking.

"Finally, there she is." His eyes sparkled with humor. "Was startin' to worry that your spark was wearing down."

"Maybe I just need the right stimulation--I mean--"

"Oh, I can give you the right stimulation," he murmured, giving her a meaningful look.

"That's so not what I meant, you perv," she muttered, her face red with embarrassment.

"So, your house tonight?" He smirked when he saw the look on her face. "For studying, pet. Remember?"

"Of course I remember. You're the one with the dirty mind." She went back to fidgeting with her napkin and looked up to see if Willow was on her way back.

"I was wondering, maybe I could stay a little afterwards? Take you up on that offer to hear some of my songs," he asked, almost shyly.

She stared at him, wondering at his sudden change in tone. One minute he was brash and confident, the next self-conscious and completely endearing in his insecurity. Her heart skipped around as he looked up at her in anticipation.

"Yeah, I'd love to hear your songs," she said softly.

"I'd love to play them for you," he responded softly.

They sat still, simply looking at each other, until Willow returned.

Buffy blushed again, wondering if she had looked stupid just staring at him.

"Sorry it took so long. Sometimes people should understand when the whole job thing is simply not working for them." She plopped into her seat and then handed out the goodies. "Chocolate-y goodness for you, chocolate-y goodness for you. Enjoy!" she declared, taking in the situation. No yelling or anger, which was always a good sign for Buffy. She smiled, satisfied that her little maneuvering had worked successfully.

***

"Okay, got it. Formulas? Check. Variables? Check. Brain? Uh oh," Xander said as he collapsed onto the sofa. "Nope. Sorry. Can't do it anymore. Must play video games. Must stop studying."

"Xander, hush," Willow scolded, throwing a pillow at his curled body. "We're almost done."

"Actually, I'm done. Xander, take me home," Anya said, packing her bag. "What?" she asked, all eyes looking at her. "I am done. There's only so much you can take of this, and there's no use in pretending that I can learn more or remember more when I can be at home, watching the Fashion Channel and making out with Xander."

"Such logic. That's my girl," Xander said, finally rising from his prone position.

"Buffy? Are you done?" Willow inquired, catching her friend's eyes.

"Well, it's not like I can go anywhere, so feel free to keep going if you want," Buffy said, exhaustion creeping into her voice. She subtly glanced at Spike while speaking.

"Spike?"

"Actually, I'm meeting with Buffy afterwards, so even if you're done, I'm staying," he said while stretching.

Willow looked at Buffy for some inkling as to why they were meeting, but the blonde suddenly became interested in her nails. She sighed, closing her textbook. "Fine. I guess we're as prepared as we'll ever be."

"And the tyrant lays down her whip," Xander jested. "It's been fun. Audi 5000 and all," he said as he waved goodbye.

"See you tomorrow," Anya called as she and Xander left quickly.

"Geez, was it that painful?" Willow muttered as she watched them leave.

"No, Wills. It's just difficult to study on a Sunday night," Buffy said sympathetically.

"Alright. Maybe I can drop by Oz's, since the night is still young," she said, perking up at the thought.

"Don't wear him out," Spike teased, rising to say goodnight.

"Haha. I can't help it if I'm a red-headed wildcat," Willow replied, her grin spreading across her face. "See you guys tomorrow." She waved and then headed out the door.

"Well, that wrapped up quickly," Spike commented as the two were left in the living room.

"Uh, yeah. Guess people just didn't feel like studying tonight." Buffy busied herself with putting away cups and chips left over from the study session.

"Hey, I'm gonna go get my guitar out of my car. Be right back," he said, walking towards the door.

"Sure thing," Buffy said brightly, trying to hide her nervousness in suddenly being alone with him. Once he left, she sunk into the sofa, unsure about how their little song session was going to go. She was a little peeved that he hadn't treated her any differently than before, though they weren't constantly fighting and he did subtly caress her hand when she'd given him a drink and had smiled at her when it seemed like no one was looking--but she wasn't sure if she'd imagined those things. The point was that no one else had noticed, and she didn't exactly want to be some kind of secret.

Hearing him walk up the porch, she jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen.

"Buffy?" Spike called out when he came in. "You still here?"

"Of course I'm here," Buffy replied, entering the room. "Where else would I be?"

"Well, the room was empty. Thought you ran off or something," he said lightly, walking into the room. He put his guitar down and turned to her. "You ready for--"

"You want something to drink? Hot chocolate or something?" Buffy asked, interrupting him. She wasn't even sure what he was asking about, but she knew she still wasn't quite ready.

"Huh? Uh, yeah. Hot chocolate would be great," he said, surprised by her sudden offer. Puzzled, he turned to open his guitar and pull out some music. Though he hadn't felt nervous before, her fidgeting was making him unsettled, hinting that perhaps she had just been playing around before and wasn't actually interested in him. The thought alarmed him, and he strummed and tuned his guitar to ease his nerves.

A few moments later, Buffy appeared with a tray of hot cocoa and some cookies. "Just in case you didn't get your fill of chips earlier," she said, placing it carefully on the coffee table.

"Thanks. This looks really great. Marshmallows and all," he observed, smiling at her. He noticed her blush and then felt a little more confident. "Sit. You don't have to play hostess with me." He patted the place on the couch next to him.

"You know me, Suzy Homemaker. Except not," Buffy remarked, easing herself onto the sofa. It wasn't as though they hadn't sat next to each other before, but the air just seemed charged with some kind of tension. She held her body tightly, waiting to see what he did next.

"So, ready for the test tomorrow?" Spike asked, trying to lessen the awkwardness that permeated the living room. He distractedly played on the guitar while chatting.

"Yeah, why not. I'm not that worried. But we should begin our English project--I don't want to fall behind on that." She absentmindedly blew on her hot cocoa.

"Another excuse to spend time with you? Okay, you convinced me," he declared, his eyes waiting to see if she would blush and then his lips curving into a grin when he saw it spread across her cheeks.

"Consider yourself incredibly lucky," she retorted, the flush on her face belying the cocky tone of her voice. "So, you gonna sing for me or what?"

"Depends on what the 'or what' is," he joked, beginning to feel more comfortable. He laughed as she attempted to hit him without spilling her drink. "Relax. Plenty of time for that later, pet." He winked and then straightened some papers on the table. "I did actually intend on singing for you, if you're still willing to hear me."

"Of course. I've got my listening ears on. You mentioned you wanted some feedback? What kind of feedback were you thinking of?"

"Well, the usual. Does it sound polished, does it call out to you--essentially, does it work. The first song is just one the band wrote together. It's supposed to be kinda upbeat and rockin. Ready?"

"Ready." She pulled up her knees and luxuriated in the excuse to stare at him without secrecy.

He began rhythmically strumming, creating a pulsing sound and adding percussion with the tapping of his hand as he moved up and down the guitar. Buffy found herself nodding to the beat, enjoying the way the music flew all over the place. When he started singing, however, she couldn't help but gawk. His eyes were closed, and his head was thrown back, his glee in playing completely apparent on his face and his posture. He looked completely content and incredibly sexy. She wanted to lean in and lick that bobbing apple in his throat, and the sexuality of the imagined action made her gasp at the thought. Hearing her, Spike opened his eyes to look at her, winked, and then went back to playing. Buffy could feel her body oozing onto the floor in a puddle of lust.

"You liked that one, pet?" Spike asked, the grin still plastered on his face. She had looked so innocent and yet had a lascivious glint in her eye, amusing him.

"Loved it. Really really good song," Buffy praised enthusiastically. If she concentrated on the music, maybe she wouldn't have to think about how hot he looked. Musicians just had it goin' on, she concluded.

"Really? No other comments? I mean, you have to imagine it with the bass and the kickin' drums with a little bit of bongos thrown in." Spike's face became animated in describing the music, and Buffy watched with the slightest tinge of envy.

"It must be really cool to be in a band. I mean, to have one goal in mind and to work together to create something. I've always wanted to be in a band," she commented rather wistfully. "But classical piano isn't exactly the thing that bands are made of. And I don't know how to play guitar. I think it's really cool that you play so well," Buffy stated frankly, her admiration clear in her voice.

"Secret dreams of being in a band, ey? Well, if you want, I could teach you how to play guitar," Spike ventured, warming to the idea of spending more time with her. "I don't know how good of a teacher I'd be, but I'm willing to try if you are."

"Really?" she said excitedly. "I've always wanted to learn, but guitar lessons weren't exactly high on Mom's priority list. I would totally be willing." Unconsciously she moved forward in her enthusiasm.

"And, I have a proposition for you. This next song I imagine with a female voice. I know you can sing--"

"What? No, I--"

"No, don't bother denying it. I remember when you ladies decided to go karaoke, and you all went up there and sang Spice Girls. Not exactly my taste of music, but I remember your voice." He grinned at the memory.

"God, I can't believe you're bringing that up--and I definitely am not a singer." Buffy hid her face in her hands, embarrassed.

"Well, I'm not saying you're a secret opera singer, but your voice had a distinct tone that I think would work well with this kind of music. Just give it a try. You can try it in front of me, and if you really don't like it, it'll just be our thing." He reached out to touch her arm in reassurance, and he began stroking her arm, enjoying the warmth of her skin. They stayed like that for a moment, Buffy still hiding in her hands and Spike slowly moving his thumb against her skin, enjoying the goose bumps that were rapidly spreading up her arm. Finally, she emerged.

"Fine. I'll try it. But just remember that this was your idea."

"No problem. I'll sing the song first, and then if you feel comfortable, we can sing it together." He placed the music in between them, moving closer so that they could share. "This song is pretty new. Actually, I wrote it yesterday, after I walked you home." He looked at her directly, smiling softly.

"Really?" she murmured. "Is that what kept you up?"

"Partly." He winked. "But seriously, I just felt, I don't know, inspired afterwards--our talk of the moon and the painful beauty and all. The music just sort of came to me."

"That's really, well, really cool. I can't believe I was there when inspiration hit. Makes me feel special," she joked.

"You are," he said simply. He reached out to caress her cheek, and then his hands returned to the guitar. "Here goes."

And then he began plucking a smooth series of notes up and down the neck of the guitar, creating a sound that seemed to capture the intoxicating mood of the previous night. He began singing softly, words of moonlight and beauty flowing over her and calling out to her soul. She closed her eyes and revisited the memory of walking with him, and Spike's voice echoed through her. It was so striking, the way his words and music melded together to fashion the perfect soundtrack for her memory. It ended all too quickly, and with the final note she opened her eyes again to find him staring at her.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Spike broke the silence. "What did you think?" he whispered.

"Incredible." She cast her eyes down, unused to his stare. She looked up again to see him still staring at her. Finally he looked away and began strumming his guitar again.

"So, you want me to play it again, or do you feel okay trying it out. I don't know how quick you are with--"

"I got it. I mean, it just seems so natural. I think I can try it." She licked her lips and cleared her throat in preparation.

Spike smiled. "We can sing it together."

He began playing, and Buffy came in on cue. Their voices blended together nicely, and Spike began singing more softly to let her notes ring out clearly. Buffy closed her eyes at the chorus, the words already memorized. Spike quickly switched to harmony, complementing the high notes of the melody. The intertwined notes created a stunning fusion of notes, and Buffy's heart leapt in hearing how well they sounded together. Spike's gravelly voice added a lower layer to Buffy's twangy soprano. She felt where he was going and easily followed him into the second verse and a repeat of the chorus. As their voices grew stronger, she felt an energy flowing between them, connecting them in the musical world they were creating beyond the physical realm. She felt herself flying along the notes, the words her wings. She could almost smell the night air and see the stars twinkling in the music. It thrilled her and made her shiver, sensing the intensity of the song.

Finally, the song came to an end, and Buffy and Spike opened their eyes to look at each other. Without words, they both moved towards each other until finally their lips touched, the final piece of the song.

Somehow the guitar disappeared, the music fell unheeded, and the two pulled closer to each other, wanting to feel physically the connection they had just experienced in singing together. Their touch was slow but deep. Spike ran his fingers through her hair, bringing her even nearer. Buffy clung to his shirt and then rubbed his chest, wanting her fingers to taste him as well. She reached up to caress his cheek and shifted closer, their legs intertwining. He broke off and began kissing her neck, savoring every spot of skin he could explore with his tongue. He heard her gasp and it only made him want more. He pulled her onto his lap, and Buffy instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. The movement pushed their bodies together, and both breathed sharply, the contact sending brilliant sensations through them.

"Oh, Buffy," Spike sighed, his hands rubbing her body and holding her tight. "God, you're so beautiful."

She simply moaned in response, seeking his lips once more. Their tongues tasted and probed and luxuriated in the new feelings coursing through their bodies. Buffy felt completely overwhelmed by her desires; she wanted to touch him, make him moan, keep those exploding lights constantly coming. Spike struggled to control himself; he wanted to possess her, envelop her completely and feel her warm body against his. Their kisses slowed, and eventually they simply sat in each other's arms, breathing heavily.

"You make me feel so alive," he murmured, nuzzling against her smooth cheek.

"You make me feel so much at once...I don't even know how to respond." She hugged him, afraid that letting go would make him disappear.

"Well, I like your response so far," he teased. "Hey, now!" His teasing had resulted in her tickling him, and suddenly she was on her back, trying to escape his torturous hands.

"Stop! Stop!" she shrieked, laughing and hyperventilating in her attempts to stop him.

"What'll you give me?" he dared, still poking her in her most ticklish places.

"Anything! God, anything!" she yelped, desperate for him to stop.

And immediately, he did.

"I'll have to think of something really good," he said seriously, his body above hers. He laughed at her sudden wide-eyed expression.

"You can't hold me responsible for things said while being tortured," she commented, slightly pouting.

"But then where's the fun in it?" he jested. He brushed her hair out of her face, her locks disheveled by their spontaneous tickle fight. He pulled her up and held her against his chest. Slowly their heartbeats returned to normal, and they simply leaned against each other.

"Buffy, um, can I ask you something?" Spike asked timidly, his chin resting on her head.

She pulled away and looked at him seriously. "Yeah. What?" She bit her lip, not sure of what to expect.

"I know this may sound kind of stupid, but I've been told simple is sometimes best." He took her hand, soft caressing it. "So, then. Here goes. Buffy," he began.

"Yes?" she repeated, her heart speeding up and thumping against her ribcage.

"Um, do you want to be my girlfriend? I know that sounds stupid, but I didn't know how else to do it and didn't want you to think I was just playin' you like that college poofter and so I --"

She silenced him with a kiss. Her actions surprised even herself, but she simply reacted; it seemed right. So she kissed him again, and again, and again.

"Yes."

He smiled, and she smiled, and then they held each other, basking in the security of their declarations.

"Good song," he said tenderly, rubbing her back.

"Perfect," she said, playing with his fingers. "Just perfect."

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