Chapter 33

“Morning!”

Buffy jumped slightly, not expecting the cheery greeting as she walked into the kitchen the following morning. She turned towards the source and was greeted by the sight of an older man, who she could only assume to be Spike’s father, taking mugs out of a corner cupboard on the far side of the room.

“I’m sorry, did I startle you?” he asked, filling the kettle with water and placing it to boil.

“Er, no, well, not really,” she said, thrown a little in her still-sleepy state by how alert he seemed this early in the morning.

“Good. Tea?” he asked, turning to the counter where the kettle had just boiled.

“Oh, yes please, that would be nice,” she replied, crossing the room and taking a seat at the round wooden table.

The man placed a mug of tea in front of her and took a seat a little further round the table.

“So, I take it you’re Buffy. Sorry I missed you last night - I got a little engrossed in one of my texts and lost track of time. Then, when I finally surfaced, Jenny told me that you and William had left for the pub.”

“That’s okay…” Buffy said, not really sure how to reply and desperately trying to think of something to talk about. She took a sip of her tea. “What were you reading?” she asked eventually.

“Oh, a treatise on the indigenous civilisations of the region surrounding ancient Babylonia. Fascinating, really.” His eyes sparkled as he talked and Buffy tried to look interested, but clearly failed miserably. “Yes, well,” he said. “I realise that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but as a lecturer in ancient history, one must keep on top of these things.

“Anyway, enough about me. My one-and-only son tells me that you’re reading English at Manchester.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m in my final year now and I can’t believe how much work there is to do!”

“Don’t let him get you talking, pet. He’ll never let you get away,” Spike’s voice drawled from the doorway. Buffy turned to see him lounging against the wall, smirk playing across his lips.

“I’ll have you know I am not that bad!”

“Oh, come on Rupert, you bloody well are - you’ll get her talking about the intricacies of some long dead author or poet and she’ll be here all day.”

“And I s’pose that makes you my knight in shining armour then, right?” Buffy asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, summat like that.” He smile and walked into the room, stopping by her chair.

“I don’t think so, somehow,” she exclaimed derisively, turning back to his father. “Anyway, I was having a conversation with… Rupert… before you so rudely interrupted.” She stumbled slightly over the name as she fleetingly considered how little it suited the man before her.

“Oh, God. Please don’t. Call me Giles - ‘Rupert’ is such an awful name!” He looked at Spike. “I don’t understand why you insist on using it. Whatever happened to ‘dad’?”

“As long as you persist on calling me ‘William’, you’ll have to live with ‘Rupert’,” Spike smirked.

“Well then, I will just have to get used to it, since hell will freeze over before I’ll call you by that God-awful nickname of yours!” Giles said, shaking his head as Buffy burst out laughing. Both men looked at her, puzzled.

“What?” Spike asked.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just, well, you can tell you two are father and son, that’s all. You’re just as stubborn as each other.”

“I-I, I’m not - I’m nothing like him!” Spike blustered, momentarily thrown by her declaration.

“Yeah, well. Whatever. I’m gonna go and have a shower - nice to met you Giles,” she smiled and walked out of the kitchen.

*~*~

“I can’t believe you think I’m anything like my father!” Spike’s exclamation broke the silence and Buffy turned to look at him, puzzled expression fleeting across her face.

“Oh, you’re not still on that one are you?” she groaned. “I thought you’d dropped that hours ago!”

“Just bugs me, that’s all.” He kicked a pebble across the road and shrugged, scowling slightly. “You really think I’m like dad?” he asked.

“Oh no - I’m not getting into this one again. If you’re going to be going on about this all day then this topic is officially closed. If you mention it again then I’m just gonna go home!” she said firmly.

“Fine, whatever.”

“And, please, for God’s sake - stop sulking. It really doesn’t suit you.”

Spike was silent as they turned a corner. The day had turned out cold but bright and they’d decided that a walk round the village would be good idea for that afternoon.

“So, what do you think?” Spike asked, trying to change the subject.

“The village? It’s very…” she fished for a word.

“Picturesque?” Spike supplied as they passed the church in its grounds, the scene somewhat stark and desolate as the normally softening trees stood bare branched and wilting in the winter cold, the old gravestones adding to the atmosphere. He caught the look on her face and chuckled. “Okay, maybe not right at this very moment…”

“Sorry, never really been one for graveyards - they kinda give me the wiggins, y’know? But, yeah, generally - picturesque would do it.”

They walked along in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the last of the winter’s sunshine in the clear, crisp evening. Spike led her off the road and down a narrow passageway, lined with thick bushes that had yet to totally lose their green. The corridor opened out into a wide hollow. A small cliff formed one side and Buffy could see the main village road ran along its top. About half way down the cliff, a trickle of water sprang forth and formed a small waterfall down into a pond at the base of the cliff. The runoff created a stream which ran off down the incline passed the opening to the passage. Large stones had been placed across the stream to allow people to cross to where the path continued on the far bank.

Spike smiled and danced light-footed across the stream, nimbly jumping from rock to rock, hardly even having to look down to see where to place his feet. Buffy followed more cautiously, aware of the fact that the winter rains meant that the rocks were almost entirely submerged in the water.

Spike sat down on the bench which was positioned on the far bank and watched her cautiously cross the river, remembering the first time he’d tried it back when his family had arrived in the village when he was a young teenager. Crossing the stream wasn’t as easy as it looked, despite the stepping stones and many a time he ended up in the icily cold water instead of dry on the bank laughing at someone else’s’ misfortune. Yet he quietly breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Buffy gain the bank unharmed and dry and she joined him on the bench, laying her head back against his shoulder and gazing up at the rapidly dimming sky.

“It’s nice here, though a little muddy,” she said as she leaned forward to examine the clumps of dirt that had resolutely lodged themselves to the soles of her trainers.

“This is s’posed to be the heart of the village, you know? It’s what it was named for…” Spike said lightly. Buffy frowned at him, not getting what he meant. “Well, think about it…” he continued. “Look at the trees…” he indicated there surroundings and Buffy properly noticed for the first time that the hollow was surrounded by a vale of trees, their bare branches leaving the area exposed at this time of year, but she could imagine that in Spring and Summer the basin would be protected from the sun by the lightly rippling leaves and she smiled.

“Right, trees. Nice, but still can’t see why that has anything to do with the village?”

“Do you know nothing?” Spike asked aghast, then quickly backed off at the look that the petite girl at his side flashed him. “Well, anyway, right - they’re ash trees. And this is a spring - the water comes up out of the ground here, forming a natural well. Ash-well. Ashwell, see?” he asked.

“Oh, right. Hmm, that’s kinda cool.” Buffy shrugged and returned to watching the sky darken.

“You have no poetry in your soul at all do you?” Spike asked, sounding a little exasperated.

“Oh, and you do?” she teased.

“More than you!”

”Hmph!” Buffy sounded, turning away from him on the seat and crossing her arms.

“Oh, come on! What’s wrong with you now?” Spike complained.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me ?” Buffy declared, turning back to him with a look of disbelief on her face. “ You’re the one who’s spent most of the day in a massive sulk just because I happened to mention that you share character traits with your father - and I can’t see what the big deal about that is anyway, he seems like a really nice guy…”

“So we’re back on dad now, are we - I thought that you didn’t want to talk about that anymore?” he snapped back in response.

“I don’t!”

“Fine!”

“Okay.”

“Exactly.”

They scowled at each other for a minute in the rapidly failing light, before the hooting of an owl sounded suddenly nearby, breaking the atmosphere. Seemingly simultaneously, they both became aware of the ridiculousness of the situation and burst out laughing.

”What was that all about?” Buffy asked through the laughs.

“I have no idea,” Spike chuckled, reaching out to lightly stroke the side of her face. “Guess that was our first fight…”

“What you talking about? We’ve fought loads of times before” Buffy said, her laughter dying away.

“Well, yeah, but not since we… Well, you know - this is different,” he tried to explain.

If anyone had asked him later, Spike would have told them that he could almost physically see the disconnection - the moment that she drew herself back from him - and his heart sank - something that was fast becoming a familiar sensation for him. Every time they were together, every time that they made a connection he could feel her there, with him, just for a moment. And then she would realise where she was and she would suddenly be gone, retreating to hide behind the sunny smile and perfect blonde locks.

So, in the moment that he saw her go, Spike did the same thing.

He leaned back, affecting his usual careless slouch, leather-clad arm draped over the back of the bench, legs long and lean, stretched out before him and crossed lazily at the ankles. He coolly took in his surroundings, careful not to meet her face until he’d schooled his expression back into one of casual indifference.

*Fine,* he thought as the mask fell into place. *If she wants to pretend that there’s nothing more between us that the occasional shag, then so can I…”

Once he was confident of his act, he leisurely stood and stared to walk off before looking back at where Buffy was still sat on the bench.

“It’s getting late, pet. We should get back,” he said, a small, sad smile escaping momentarily to fly across his face before being ruthlessly crushed under the boot of the affected persona so carefully worn. He shook his head and walked off, not looking to see if she was following him or not.

“I need to get out!” Buffy declared as she walked into the living room.

Willow and Tara looked up from their position curled up on the sofa. Buffy was stood at the entrance to the room, obviously determined to carry through her announcement. She was dressed in tight black trousers and a backless, dark red top, her freshly styled hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders and down her back. Willow and Tara looked at each other.

“Well, we’d kinda planned a quiet night in…” Willow said hesitantly.

“Oh, please Will, Tara - I’ve been stuck in all week so far. I need to get out before I get a serious case of cabin fever!”

“It’s hardly our fault that you’ve been all Miss Mopey-pants since you got back from Spike’s,” Willow replied.

“I know, I know - I’ve been hell to be around, but don’t you see - that’s just why you have to come out with me. I’ve decided that the best thing for me is a night on the town - just what I need,” Buffy declared.

“I don’t think I have the energy for clubbing,” Tara put in, apologetically. Buffy looked crestfallen for a moment, then the cheery smile returned to her face.

“Well, how about just going into town for a drink then? We could be home early - not a problem. Pleeease?” she wheedled.

Willow and Tara exchanged a look again and Tara nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Okay, okay - you win! But we leave when the pubs close, okay? Don’t event think about trying to get us to go clubbing soc it’s so not gonna happen, Missy!” Willow said, mock-sternly.

“Yes Ma’am,” Buffy conceded, grinning inanely at her win.

*~*

They managed to find a quiet table in the corner of the moderately busy pub and settled down, happy to sit and watch the other people in the bar.

“Oh my God!” Buffy exclaimed in a stage whisper, discreetly pointing out a girl who had just walked up to the bar and was now leaning against it, trying to attract the attention of the barman.

She was dressed in what could possibly be in line for the world’s most tarty outfit - the amount of cleavage the scoop neck of her near-transparent, iridescent purple to revealed was matched by the shortness of the tight, black mini-skirt she was wearing.

“She’s underage - I guarantee it!” Buffy declared authoritatively.

“What makes you say that?” Willow asked curiously.

“Oh, come on, I mean - I’m big myself on the sort skirts and all, but that’s taking it a step too far. We all now full well that no girl dresses like that unless she’s trying to get something and I think she’s trying to get served - look at the way she’s leaning across the bar. Betcha she’s underage!”

“I think she might be right, Willow,” Tara said as she nudged her lover and pointed towards the bar where the barman was shaking his head at the girl. Buffy smiled in triumph as the girl shook her head angrily and stalked out of the door followed by a small group of equally heavily made up girls.

The three settled back down to their drinks and quiet conversation, focused mainly on people-watching as groups drifted in and out of the pub.

“Oh, look who’s heading your way, Buff,” Willow said a couple of hours later, pointing out the tall dark man heading their way through the crowd which had now gathered in the bar.

Buffy looked in the direction her friend was pointing and groaned quietly as she recognised Liam walking towards them.

“Oh, God. I was having such a nice time as well,” she mumbled to herself. Willow looked at her and frowned.

“Oh, come on Buffy, give the guy a chance - he’s actually quite nice. Might surprise you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…” Buffy started, before being interrupted by the arrival of the subject of the conversation.

“Hi guys, Buffy,” he said, as he took in each of them, his gaze finally landing on the petite blonde as he smiled hesitantly. “Sorry I missed you last weekend, Willow said that something came up.”

“Oh, yeah. Erm, yeah. Something - came up, yeah,” Buff stammered, blushing slightly as Willow held back a giggle. Liam looked perplexed, wondering what he was missing before Tara came to the rescue.

“Liam, why don’t you sit down?” she asked sweetly, shooting a glare towards Willow as the two other girls fought to regain their composure.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully as he managed to find another chair and pulled it up to the table.

“So, how are you?” Buffy asked politely, cringing inwardly at the question and the fact that she had to make small-talk with this guy, instead of simply being able to spend a night out with the girls.

*~*~

Buffy sat listening to her friends talk and smiled to herself. The night hadn’t turned into quite the nightmare she’d imagined when Liam, or ‘Angel’ as she’d discovered his nickname to be, had first appeared. He was actually good company and definitely attentive towards her.

Now the evening was drawing to a close, last orders had been called and they were all finishing their drinks. She knew that Angel was going to ask to see her again and that she’d have to be able to give him an answer.

*And there lies the problem,* she thought as the smile faded from her face to be replaced by a slight crinkling of her forehead as she turned her thoughts towards what she would say to him.

Willow had been right, *As usual,* Buffy thought. Angel did seem to be a nice guy, and he was definitely good-looking. Who wouldn’t be attracted to the whole ’tall, dark and handsome’ thing?

Her mind turned to Spike, not for the first time that night, and she thought about what they had. Then she shook her head almost imperceptibly and dismissed the thought. *Spike,* she thought with a sigh, as she returned to her previous conclusion - that she just couldn’t give him what he wanted. She just wasn’t ready to give her heart away as she knew he’d want, *And like I know would be so easy to do,* she let herself admit before firmly quashing the thought.

But Angel, Angel was another matter entirely. Maybe with Angel, she could have the kind of casual relationship she thought she could cope with right now. *And it would be a good way to let Spike down gently,* she thought sadly.

Thrusting any doubts aside, she made up her mind. If he asked to see her again, she’d say yes.

Buffy pulled up outside the hotel and mentally steeled herself to go inside, wondering if Spike had arrived yet, not sure how she was going to broach the subject she knew she was inevitable.

Once again, she wondered if she’d made the right choice, unable to control or dismiss the sinking feeling that had arrived in her stomach on Thursday night when she’d agreed to see Angel again the following week, when she’d let him kiss her.

She took a deep breath and told herself again that this was for the best. That Angel was a nice guy. That it was the best and easiest way to stop this thing with Spike before it went any further. That it was the best thing for both of them. That it would be less cruel than stringing him along now that she really knew how he felt.

She let the endless list of excuses - *reasons,* she thought firmly - run in a constant stream through her mind as she tried not to think about the inevitable look on Spike’s face when he found out, as she steeled herself against it and determined that what she was doing really was for the best.

Resolute, she opened the car door, collected her bag from the back seat and walked into the hotel.

*~*~

“Hiya pet!” Spike called from his position lying on the bed as she entered their hotel room. Buffy steeled herself and smiled with a cheeriness she didn’t feel inside.

“Hi!” she said as she walked into the room and threw herself down onto the bed beside him, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. He looked at her and frowned.

“Don’t I get a proper kiss?” he asked teasingly, pulling her towards him and capturing her in a deeply passionate kiss.

Buffy’s mind swam for a second as she battled with herself, knowing that she should pull away and trying to find the will power to do so. Eventually, it was Spike who broke the kiss, pulling away for some much needed air. Buffy used the moment to stand up from the bed, busying herself with unpacking her bag and carefully hanging her dress away in the wardrobe before it creased.

“So, do I get to see what you’ll be wearing tonight?” Spike asked, leaning back against the pillows, his hands resting casually behind his head.

“No, you don’t. You’ll just have to wait,” she threw back at him with a laugh as she walked into the ensuite bathroom and deposited her toiletry bag on the side.

“Up for a surprise then, am I, luv?” he called to her. Buffy leaned against the doorway to the bathroom and smiled at him, finally managing to relax for the first time in days as they fell back into their usual friendly banter.

“You okay, luv?” Spike asked, concerned. “You seem a little, I dunno, quiet.”

Buffy thought about it for a minute. This was it, her way in. He’d given her the perfect opportunity to broach the subject. Then she looked at him, lying on the bed, not a care in the world, looking up at her with those bottomless blue eyes, hair all ruffled and messy in the way that she found unaccountably sexy and she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t spoil the evening for him. She remembered why she was here and how much he wanted this evening to go well. She couldn’t do it - not now, not yet. She’d tell him later, afterwards.

Decision made, she smiled at him and forced an airy tone into her voice. “Oh, nothing really, just a little tired from the journey, that’s all. Think I’m gonna go and have a shower - guess we’ll have to get ready soon, right?”

“Yeah, actually. You want some company in that shower?” he asked with a slight leer, curling his tongue up behind his teeth in that way that made her knees turn to jelly.

“You and I both know that if you did that we’d never get downstairs,” she admonished lightly, hoping that he wouldn’t put the matter.

Her hopes were answered as he sighed wistfully and turned back to the TV. “I know. Go on then. Shower.”

*~*~

Spike could hardly stop himself from grinning like some kind of maniac as he walked into the hotel ballroom, Buffy on his arm. He looked around and made his way over to their allocated table, holding back the almost uncontrollable urge to jump up onto the nearest table and shout out to the world how fabulous the woman on his arm was.

Buffy had really outdone herself tonight and was looking absolutely radiant. The plain, blue sheath dress she was wearing looked anything but as it fitted her to perfection, draping sensuously over her curves and falling to just below her knees, the slightly metallic sheen of the material catching the dimmed light of the magnificent hotel ballroom they were currently traversing. Spike smiled down at her in awe as heads turned to watch the golden couple pass and he pushed away the dark thoughts and his knowledge that none of this was real and that she wasn’t really his in the hope that maybe, one day, that would all change and he could finally let her know how he felt.

Buffy had been quiet since her arrival earlier, but she swore to him that it was just a result of the journey and a touch of nervousness at the thought of spending an evening in the company of strangers. Spike had tried to put her at her ease, guaranteeing that all the people they were to sit with that night were friendly and easy to get on with, but she had remained subdued.

Buffy herself was currently lost in her thoughts, wondering how she had got herself into this situation and how on earth she would be able to find the courage to tell Spike. She had realised as they walked into the room, that she wasn’t taking the easy way out at all, that Angel didn’t make the situation easier to deal with, that he wasn’t the ‘excuse’ she’d been thinking of him as. He was a complication, and there was a high chance that the news would break Spike’s heart. But there was no going back now and she was determined to go through with it.

She just had to get through the evening first.

Another couple were sat at the table when they arrived and the man stood up to welcome them.

“Spike, buddy!” he said in a friendly and enthusiastic greeting before turning to Buffy. “And this must be the lovely Buffy - he’s told me so much about you. I’m Clem, by the way. And this is Carla, my girlfriend.” The woman sat at the table waved a quiet hello and smiled shyly.

*Ahh, another person who’s daunted by the whole host of complete strangers then,* Buffy thought, somewhat comforted by the idea as they took their seats at the table.

As the evening progressed, they were joined by other couples and Buffy let the small talk wash over her, watching Spike as he effortlessly seemed to manage the conversation around the table, making people howl with laughter one moment and engage in serious conversation about something or other the next. He seemed to be having a great time and Buffy made sure that her smile stayed on all night and she put up the appropriate pretence of enjoyment she felt was expected of her.

But she felt anything but happy inside; where she was feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the situation and with the fact that Spike had seemed quite happy to let the table and, indeed, the whole room at this rate, assume that she was his girlfriend.

Never particularly comfortable with the lie before, she now felt awkward and somewhat embarrassed by it now. But she the thought that had her most off-kilter about the whole situation was that she had a steadily increasing feeling that she was betraying Spike with the lie, with the knowledge that the lie had to end - that it stopped tonight.

“You want to dance?” Spike’s question pulled Buffy out of her thoughts and back to the present. She looked at him and tried to think of an excuse, but none came to the fore. She smiled and nodded, letting herself be led out onto the dance floor.

The band struck up a slow tune and Spike gathered her into his arms, resting his face in her hair as they moved together on the floor.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure, you’ve been awfully quiet tonight, it’s just not like you, Buffy.”

“I’m fine, just a little tired, that’s all,” she said, hoping that he wouldn’t see through the lie.

“Look, we’re all done here. I mean, the party’ll go on for hours, but we could slip away and not be missed. If you’re tired…” Spike replied.

“That would be good,” Buffy admitted, knowing that if they left it would only bring forward the inevitable, but unable to stand the feelings she was having any longer.

Spike gently took her by the hand and led her from the room.

*~*~

She almost flinched as Spike shut the door to their hotel room behind him. Buffy hugged herself as she stood by the window and looked out onto the city below them, watching the lights of the car pass by in the night. She didn’t dare turn around, knowing that when she did she would be forced to face up to the decision she’d made.

She felt him stand behind her and she tensed slightly as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing close to her body.

“You cold?” he asked quietly, gently removing her hands and rubbing at her arms.

“A little,” she said, more because it was something to say than because it was true, as she let Spike turn her to face him. She could hardly breathe as she let him tilt her head upwards. It was almost as if she were elsewhere as she watched his head descend towards her.

“Cor, pet. I’ve missed you so much,” he breathed before he captured her mouth in a searing kiss.

For a moment, Buffy kissed him back, losing herself in him as had happened so often before. She felt her arms reach up and lock round the back of his neck, pulling him willingly deeper into the kiss before her mind snapped back into play and she suddenly broke off, pushing him away and moving to the other side of the room.

Spike frowned and moved towards her. “What’s wrong, luv?” he asked, obviously confused by her sudden actions.

“We have to talk,” she said sadly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Oh. This doesn’t sound good,” he said, a trace of dread tingeing his tone.

Buffy was silent for a moment, wondering how best to phrase what she was about to say. Then she suddenly realised that there was no best way to tell him. She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m seeing someone else,” she said simply.

Spike’s eyes bugged as he took in the news, not wanting to believe that he’d heard her right, but knowing that he had.

“Since when,” he asked coldly, wondering if she’d been seeing someone else the previous weekend. Wondering if all the time he’d held her in his arms, she’d been thinking of someone else. Wondering if… he quickly shook that destructive line of thought from his mind.

“Not long, just this week, but I thought,” she hesitated, her voice faltering as she took in the look in Spike’s eyes. The hurt, the betrayal that she’d been dreading, but she forged determinedly onward. “I thought that I should tell you now. It was what we agreed, that if there was ever…”

“I know what we agreed Buffy,” Spike interrupted harshly, before sighing, his expression turning contrite as he sat beside her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, it’s just…”

“I just can’t go on like this, Spike. I’m using you.”

“You notice me complaining?” he asked, starting to wonder and, if he would allow the train of thought to enter his consciousness, even hoping that there was no one else, that she’d just said that to give her a reason to leave. That he could talk her round. But one look at her told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t lying to him, nothing but the harsh truth was evident in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She rose from the bed and resumed her position at the window, staring out into space.

He looked at her, words escaping him for a moment. The moonlight streaming through the window catching glints in her long hair, making it shine and giving her an ethereal gleam. He watched her for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again.

“What’s his name?” he asked, resignation evident in his voice.

“Does it matter?” she asked sadly, not looking at him as her eyes remained steadily fixed on the now decreasing volume of traffic passing below.

“I guess not.”

Silence descended on the room once more as the two figures lapsed back into their own thoughts.

Buffy held back a tear as she felt him once more take up position at her shoulder, but this time no warm, strong arms encircled her.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice so quiet that for a moment Spike wondered if he’d heard her properly.

“Nothing to be sorry for, luv,” he said, his voice coarse with highly controlled emotion. “I knew where I stood, same as you. Knew what I signed on for. You’ve been nothing but fair about the whole thing.”

It was then that the tears began to flow, with the words of kindness. She turned and buried her face in her shoulder, not thinking about her actions, just needing the comfort and support of her best friend. She melted into him as his arms held her tight and she finally let go of all the emotion she’d held inside her since the previous weekend.

“Hush, luv. It’ll be okay,” Spike murmured, whispering words of comfort without really thinking what he was saying or why, just knowing that she needed to hear them.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed over and over into his shoulder until she started to cry herself out and the sobs subsided.

He waited until she fell quiet before he pulled back and made her look at him. “I promised you once that I would always be your friend, that I would always be there for you. I still mean that - this doesn’t change any of that. Promise me that won’t change?” he said firmly.

“Are you sure,” she asked timidly, hardly daring to believe that he could still want to be in the same room as her after the way she’d treated him, never mind still want to be her friend.

“Of course I’m bloody sure - never been more sure of anything in me life!” he declared with a genuine smile.

“I’ll really like that,” she admitted as he pulled her back into his arms and held her.

Spike paused the DVD he’d been watching as the phone started to ring.

“’Ello?” he said into the receiver.

“All men are bastards!” came the angry response from the other end of the line.

“Hey!” Spike answered, male pride pricked.

“Well, apart from you, of course, but you don’t count,” the voice replied.

“Hey!!” he responded, not in the least bit appeased.

“Oh, yeah - oops?”

“What’s he done now then, Buffy?” Spike asked, resigned to the fact that it would be yet another one of those conversations. In the weeks since the last time he’d seen her, Buffy had been ringing him on a very regular basis with complaints about the antics of her new boyfriend.

“He stood me up - again!” she complained, the anger which had been evident in her first statement quickly fading and Spike could hear even now the first tears beginning to form in her voice. His hand made a fist as he mentally pummelled the man that could dare to cause her so much pain.

“Look, just tell me his name and where he lives and I’ll gladly come round and beat the shit out of him for you,” he said cheerfully, knowing better than to let his emotion show when she was in this state.

“Spike, you know that’s not going to happen,” she said. They’d been over this ground so many times in recent weeks that they both knew the script off pat.

“Well, someone’s got to point out to the ponce what an arse he’s being and if you won’t do it…” Spike warned.

”It’s, well, he doesn’t do it on purpose - he just forgets. And he’s always really sorry about it. You’ll see,” she said, anxious, as always, to create excuses for the man she’d moments before been railing about.

“Why won’t you tell me his name, at least?” Spike asked, as he always asked.

“Because…” she started.

“You think I’d actually do it, don’t you?” Spike asked in disbelief. “You think I’d actually go round and beat him up?”

“Truth? Yeah - I think possibly you would.”

Spike thought about this. “You’re probably right,” he admitted without remorse. “So, you gonna tell me then?”

“No! So stop asking!” she laughed and Spike smiled in triumph as he chalked up another successful job of stopping Buffy being upset.

“I have other sources you know. I’ll find out from someone else.”

”Spike, just let it go, please?” Buffy asked, sounding tired.

“You expect me to just stand back and let this wanker walk all over you, Buffy? I mean, he stands you up more than you go out together. He shouts at you for no reason, you never seem to be able to do anything right with him. I’m worried about you, that’s all - you know that.”

“Yeah, I know, Spike. Look, I gotta go - he might be trying to call to say where he is.”

“Hope for a miracle, pet,” Spike said somewhat sarcastically as he heard the phone line go dead.

He waited a moment before picking up the phone again and dialling a number he had jotted on a piece of paper.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice said on the other end of the line.

“Willow, is Buffy in the room with you?” he asked quickly.

“No. If you want to speak to her, why did you call my mobile?” she asked, confused.

”I don’t want to talk to her - it’s you I’m after, but I don’t want her to know I’ve spoken to you. Oz gave me your number.”

“Go on…” Willow said, waiting for an explanation.

“Who is it?” Spike asked.

“Who’s what?” Willow responded, not understanding where Spike was going with this.

“The guy that Buffy’s been seeing - what’s his name?”

“If she hasn’t told you, why should I?” Willow asked defensively.

“Dammit, Will - just tell me. You and I both know that he’s a wanker that doesn’t deserve her. I just would quite like to be able to put a name to the man who’s been putting her through crap for a week,” Spike snapped, losing his temper slightly.

“Okay, fine. You’re right anyway, he doesn’t deserve her. His name’s Liam, but he’s generally known as…” Willow broke off as she heard a groan from Spike. “What?” she asked.

“Generally known as Angel by any chance?” Spike asked wearily sa he waited for his worst fears to be confirmed.

“Yes - how did you know?” Willow asked, surprised.

“Tall guy, dark, uses too much hair gel. Kinda broody?”

“That’ll be the one,” Willow laughed at the description.

“Great, just great. Of all the thousands of guys in a city the size of Manchester, she just has to go for him.”

“What do you mean? You know him?” Willow asked.

“Oh, yeah - I know him alright. Him and me, used to be best friends at one time. Then he bloody well stole Dru off me. And if that wasn’t enough, once he had her, well, he didn’t want her anymore, did he - no! Tall, dark and forehead’s only ever in it for the chase - loves to go for the unobtainable, y’know. So, once he’d managed to get Dru away from me, he lost all interest, started screwing around on her. ‘Cept he never told her - left her to work it out for herself. Broke her bloody heart, he did - just like she broke mine. He’s a git. Always has been, always will be, that one.”

“That’s terrible.”

“And now he’s got his claws into her. No wonder she’s a bloody wreck,” he declared.

“Are you gonna tell her?” Wilow asked.

“What, me?” Spike laughed. “Chit won’t take any interference from me. Nah- I’m just a shoulder to cry on when things get really bad, but she wouldn’t believe me if I told her that.”

“Of course she would, Spike!” Willow argued.

“Not bloody likely. Look, Red. I know she know how I feel about her, and that makes her think that I’d say anything to get her to leave him. So she won’t believe a word I say bad about him. No point. Will you talk to her? Find out what the hell she thinks she’s playing at? Please. I can’t stand to see her like this. You know I’d leave well alone if I thought she was happy, but…”

“I know, Spike. I’ll talk to her, see what I can do.”

Willow peered round the door to Buffy’s bedroom, fully expecting to see her friend in floods of tears from Spike’s report.

Instead she found Buffy sitting in front of her mirror, applying makeup with a fairly steady hand. Reminding herself that she wasn’t meant to know about the recent argument, Willow hid her surprise and walked into the room.

"Hiya," she said, wondering how she was going to broach the subject.

Buffy looked up. "Hi," she replied before turning back to the mirror to do her mascara.

"You going out?" Willow asked.

"Yep," Buffy replied, her monosyllabic responses the only clue that anything was wrong.

"Where you going?" Willow preserved.

"Angel’s," she said as she brushed out her hair.

Willow tried to hide her surprise. "Really?" she asked, failing miserably.

With a sign, Buffy put down the brush and turned to her friend, tears forming in her eyes.

"He stood me up again this afternoon," she admitted sadly. "And I realised something – Spike’s right."

"You talked to Spike about this?" Willow asked, somewhat incredulously, before cursing herself mentally for letting that slip – she didn’t actually think that Buffy should be talking to Spike about her relationships, but this was hardly the time to go into that.

"Yes, why?" Buffy asked warily.

"Oh, nothing, go on," Willow said, trying to deflect the subject.

"I realised that he was right," Buffy continued. "Angel finds excuses not to see me more that we date. Hell, we don’t even argue about it – I just find myself meekly submitting to his endless excuses. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I should never have gone out with him in the first place, but I seem to have become the Queen of bad decisions lately." Buffy stood up and grabbed her jacket off the bed. "But that’s gonna change. And the first step has to be breaking up with Angel," she declared with determination.

"Really?" was all Willow could think to say, shocked as she was at her friend’s resoluteness.

"Really," Buffy confirmed, before taking a deep breath and walking out of the room.

*~*~

"So, she’s actually going ot dump him then?" Cordelia asked in disbelief. "Ha! I’ll believe that when I see it!"

"No – really. I’ve never seen Buffy look so determined," Willow argued.

The girls – Willow, Tara, Cordelia and Anya – were sat around the lounge, having banned Xander from the house. The girls’ night had been planned for some time and, naturally, Buffy’s absence had been immediately noted, the reason for her absence quickly discovered, and thereafter hotly debated.

"Hmm, we’ll see," Cordelia said, doubtfully, taking a sip of her wine.

"I think she’ll do it," Tara said quietly. "Willow said that she seemed really determined and she can be very stubborn when she wants to be."

"Well, if I were her, I’d dump the bastard," Anya declared with her usual bluntness.

"Here, here!" Cordelia agreed and the two girls toasted their enlightenment with more wine.

"Looks like I’m missing quite a party," a cheerless voice said from the stairwell. The four turned to see a somewhat dishevelled Buffy standing in the entrance to the room. Her hair was a mess and she’d obviously been crying – the mascara that had been so carefully applied that afternoon was now streaked down her cheeks, the way it was smeared making it clear that Buffy had, at some point, tried to wipe her tears away.

Willow stood silently and crossed the room to embrace her distraught-looking friend and was unsurprised when Buffy simply melted into her arms and sobbed against her shoulder. Willow gently walked her across the room whilst the other girls moved to make room for her on the sofa.

"You’ve been gone for hours – where’ve you been?" Willow asked kindly when Buffy seemed to be calming down.

Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but Anya interrupted before she could say a word as she trust a brimming glass of wine into Buffy’s hands.

"Drink – it’ll make you feel better. Or, if it doesn’t, it’ll make you care less – either way, the world will seem like a nicer place!" she advised with a smile.

Buffy looked at her, astonished, for a moment, then smiled a small but genuine smile and took a small sip of her ice cold white wine.

"Anyway," Cordelia said, shooting Anya a glare. "Buffy. You were saying…"

"Wandering, I guess," she said.

"Wandering?" Tara asked with obvious concern. "But, it’s cold out there."

"I know – that’s what drove me back here eventually."

"Did you talk to Angel?" Cordelia asked with a stunning lack of tact and far too much enthusiasm. Buffy looked questioningly at Willow.

"Hey – they wanted to know where you’d gone. Didn’t realise it was some kind of big secret," Willow said, a little defensively.

"I guess it’s not. Sorry Will – it’s just been a long day."

"So – did you talk to him?" Cordelia repeated.

"Yes, Cordy – I talked to him," Buffyy said wearily, slumping back against the sofa and looking up at the ceiling.

"And…" the brunette pressed. "Did you end it?"

"Did I end it?" Buffy mulled the question over before looking up. "That would have to be a ‘no’," she said emotionlessly.

Cordelia and Anya shared an ‘I told you so’ look quickly, before turning back to Buffy, looks of concern and support fixed on their faces.

"But, I thought…" Willow started, confused.

"I know. I left all determined to end it. And I would have, it’s just, well. He dumped me!" Buffy said, anger evident in her tone towards the end of the revelation.

"He what?" Anya and Cordelia shouted in unison.

"I know! Can you believe the nerve of the guy? I mean, he treats me like shit for months and then, the very day that I decide that I’ve had enough and go round to end it, he dumps me. And he doesn’t even have the nerve to do it in person! Look!" she handed Cordelia her mobile phone.

"Buffy. Don’t think this is working, do you? Maybe it’s best if we just go our separate ways. Angel." She read off the screen.

"But, isn’t this what you wanted?" Tara asked kindly.

"No, yes, well. Argh! This is so like him. Always has to be in control. It’s just so frustrating. Yes, this does accomplish what I wanted, but…" she trailed off.

"You wanted the satisfaction of throwing everything back in his face and watching it drop as you walked away," Anya said in the tone of someone who knew what they were talking about.

"Exactly!" Buffy agreed.

"So, if this all happened before you got to Angel’s, where have you been all this time?" Cordelia asked in confusion. "I mean – and no offence Buffy, but, well, you’re a complete mess. But you don’t seem too upset about this. Not ‘crying-your-heart-out’ upset, more, ‘ripping-the-throat-out-of-something’ upset."

Buffy stiffened suddenly and her expression took on a ‘rabbit caught in headlights’ tone. "I don’t want to talk about it," she said.

"Oh no," Cordelia declared. "You don’t get out of it that easily, Missy. We want gossip and we want it now – and right now, you’re the best source of that. So, ‘fess up, what happened?"

Buffy took a deep breath, followed by a large gulp of wine. "Well, I got the text from Angel and I was so angry, I really needed to talk to someone about it. So I called Spike."

"You did what?" Cordelia exploded. "Why? I mean, what where you thinking?"

"But, I always call Spike when I have a problem," Buffy said, obviously confused by Cordelia’s reaction.

"But, about Angel?" Cordelia asked in disbelief.

"Yes, about Angel. Spike made me promise that if I ever needed to talk about a relationship, or problems I was having, that I’d call him."

"But, Angel?" Cordelia repeated. "I mean, Buffy. It’s the worst-kept secret in the world that Spike’s in love with you and that you only want to be friends. Don’t you think it’s a little, well, insensitive of you to go parading your relationships in front of him like that?" she asked with exasperation.

Buffy fell quiet for a moment, then her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. "Oh, God," she looked at the brunette, who nodded. "God – I never thought about it like that before. Oh. That’s it – it’s official. I’m the world’s biggest bitch!" her eyes welled up with tears as the full realisation of what she had been doing hit her suddenly.

"But, if you didn’t realise. I mean, you didn’t do it on purpose," Willow said, trying to console her friend.

"Yeah, right – I might not have realised, but only cos I never stopped to think about it! Am I really that self-centred? I mean, not once did I stop to think about Spike in all of this. I just took him at his word when he said he wanted to know and not once did I think how it might hurt him!"

"I thought everyone knew that you never talked to a man about another man when you knew that the first man wanted to sleep with you," Anya said.

"Yes, well. I guess I’m just stupid then. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now," Buffy said, trying to blink back the tears.

"What do you mean?" Willow asked.

"I mean that he doesn’t want to sleep with me – as Anya so eloquently put it – anymore."

"Whatever makes you think that? Once a man wants to sleep with you, he always wants to sleep with you – unless he’s already slept with you and married you and divorced you, and then they might change their mind. But even that’s not guaranteed." Anya said with authority.

"I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, it doesn’t matter because he’s moved on. He’s found someone else," Buffy said with a sob. "I phoned him tonight. He didn’t answer the phone – a girl did. She passed me onto Spike. Apparently, her name’s Sophie and they were going out to dinner. He has a new girlfriend."

"And this bothers you, why, exactly?" Cordelia asked. "I mean, you’ve made it perfectly clear many, many times in the past that you have absolutely no interest in Spike in that way. Surely you should be happy that he’s moved on, gone out and got himself a girlfriend?"

Buffy looked at Willow as a further tear trickled down her face. The redhead gave her hand a light squeeze, but looked perplexed by her friend’s reaction.

"He was so mean about it, Will. He told me that he ‘had a life as well’," she sobbed, realising how much she must have hurt him in the past. "I mean, I always knew that he did, but he was always just there. He’s always been so supportive, I just never thought…"

Cordelia and Anya shared a confused look. It was obvious that there was something going on that they didn’t know about, but they couldn’t work out what it was.

"But, Buffy," Willow said. "I thought you decided that it was over?"

"Over? What’s over? Over suggests a beginning. There was a beginning. Okay, now you really have to explain!" Cordelia demanded, seeing her opening.

"Spike and I had a thing. I found out he loved me. I ended it. He made me promise that we’d still be best friends and if I ever had a problem – about anything – then I’d come to him first. I stupidly thought he meant it. Add the whole Angel thing on top of that and you have a perfect recipe for Buffy life disaster."

"You and Spike had a thing?" Cordelia said in disbelief.

"Did he give you many fabulous orgasms?" Anya asked.

Buffy laughed. "Actually, yes he did, but that’s hardly the point."

"What is the point, Buffy?" Caordelia asked. "I mean, you say that you ended it, but you find out he’s dating and come home looking like your world’s just fallen apart. Anyone would think you were in love with him."

"That’s what I realised. Why I’ve been gone so long. I think I might be," Buffy said quietly.

Spike lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

After a few minutes, he got up and walked into the kitchen to pour himself a drink, draining the glass before putting it in the sink and wandering over to the window to stare out at the seemingly endless rain.

Sighing, he walked into the living room and sat down, picking up the remote and flicking through the channels, never really stopping on any one thing.

After a few minutes, he switched off the TV again and tossed the remote into a nearby chair.

He stared at the blank screen for a moment before checking his watch and frowning.

He walked back into the bedroom and threw himself back down onto the bed.

*This isn’t like her,* he thought to himself. *She always calls me, every other night, like clockwork. She hasn’t called for days. Something must be wrong,* he concluded, grabbing the phone off the night stand and dialling quickly.

“Hello?” a female voice answered at the other end.

“Hi, Buffy,” Spike said.

“Spike? Oh, erm, hi - how are you?” Buffy asked, suddenly sounding rather flustered.

“I’m fine. What’s up?” he asked, immediately picking up on the edgy tone to her voice, which only served to increase his anxiety.

“Up? Oh, er, nothing - nothing’s up, er, wrong. Everything’s fine,” she babbled. “And what about you? How was your date?” she asked in an up-beat tone.

Spike frowned. Something was definitely wrong. There was definitely something that she wasn’t telling him.

“It was okay,” he said warily. “Buffy - what’s wrong?” he asked again.

“I told you,” she said, more firmly this time. “There’s nothing wrong. Now, tell me about this girl, Sophie, so I can decide whether she’s good enough for you or not.”

“Buffy…” Spike warned, knowing full well that she was trying to change the subject.

“Where did you meet her?”

“Buffy…” he said, increasing the warning in his tone.

“How long have you been seeing her for?” she asked in an overly-cheerful tone, determinedly persevering in her attempts to deflect his probing.

“Okay, that’s it. I know that there’s something wrong, pet. I can tell, you know - you have to be the worst actress in the known universe. Is it Angel again, is that it?” Spike asked, losing his temper slightly.

“Angel? How did you…” she asked, dropping all her attempts to change the subject as she realised what he’d just said.

“Like I told you before, luv - I have my sources. Now, what’s the ponce done to you now?”

“Nothing. Well, not that’s important anymore. We broke up,” she said.

“Halle-bloody-lujah!” Spike declared. “’Bout bloody time. When’d this happen?”

”The other day.”

Spike considered this for a moment and then groaned. “Oh no. The other day - as in, the other day when you called up wanting to speak to me and I was running out the door with Sophie, the other day?” he asked, sounding a little guilty.

“Yep, that other day.”

“Oh, God, Buffy - you should have said something,” he said, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him as he realised that he’d fobbed her off at the one time that she’d needed him most.

“No I shouldn’t - like you told me the other day, you do have a life,” she reminded him.

“But - you needed to talk to someone,” he responded, unable to believe that she was forgiving him so easily, knowing that it would be much longer before he would forgive himself.

“I have other friends, Spike,” she said kindly.

“But - I promised to always be there for you.”

“Spike - just drop it, okay,” Buff said, a little harshly, trying to end the subject that was too painful for her to talk about right now.

“But…” Spike protested.

“Drop it, Spike,” she said seriously. “Anyway,” she said, her tone changing to one of resolute brightness. “Did you have fun the other night? Tell me about your new girlfriend - I want to know.”

“Well, she’s not exactly a girlfriend. It was just a date - just dinner,” he said, feeling a little uncomfortable talking to Buffy about another girl. It had been different when it was her talking about Angel.

For the short time that things had been going well, he’d enjoyed hearing her talk about it - it was nice to know that she was happy, even if it wasn’t with him. Of course, he had never been particularly fond of the times that she had rung up in tears, but he hung onto that connection with her life like a lifeline, no matter how slim it was.

“Are you going to see her again?” he heard Buffy ask nonchalantly, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Maybe, we’ll see. You never know - she might not want to see me again,” he answered with a small smile.

“Of course she would!” Buffy protested. “What girl wouldn’t want to see you again?” she asked.

There was a sudden, awkward silence as the two contemplated what had just been said.

“I. I’m sorry,” Buffy said in a small voice after a few minutes.

“No, no - that’s alright,” Spike reassured her, not sure exactly what she was apologising for - the affair, the break up or bringing up the memories.

“No, it’s not,” she told him in a sad voice. “I treated you terribly and I shouldn’t have done. I don’t know why… Well, I…” she changed tack. “Actually, Willow’s making me a sign to wear. Big sign, says ‘World’s Biggest Bitch’ on it in big red letters. It’s my penance,” she laughed derisively. “And I thinking of getting it tattooed…”

“Buffy, don’t be ridiculous,” Spike cut her off.

“I’m not being ridiculous. I did a lot of thinking the other night and, well,” she took a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “I realise it’s a bit late now, but I really am sorry,” she said, sounding deadly serious.

“I know you are, pet. But it’s not needed,” he said sincerely, forgiving her instantly, not once considering it strange that he was willing to forgive her anything when he found it so incomprehensible that she would return the favour.

“Thanks. Look, I… I should go.”

“Wait!” he said, his tone taking on a slight tinge of desperation, which made him cringe slightly. Desperation was not a good emotion to show towards a girl who is meant to just be a friend. “Do I get to see you sometime soon?” he asked.

“Maybe, we’ll see,” Buffy answered as she disconnected.

Spike looked at the phone for a moment as he realised that he’d never really found out what had been wrong.

Buffy balanced her books against a hip as she reached down to pick the pile of post up from the mat. Shifting the load into a better position for carrying, she made her way downstairs.

Placing her books on the coffee table, she carried the small pile of post into the kitchen. Switching on the kettle to make a cup of tea, she sorted through the post.

“Bill, bill, bill,” she muttered, putting them aside until the others came home and they could all be depressed together at how much they had to pay out this month. She frowned as she came across a small blue envelope addressed to her in a handwriting she didn’t recognised. She shrugged and put it down for a moment whilst she made herself a drink.

Abandoning the rest of the post on the kitchen worktop, she took the strange letter and her cup of tea back into the lounge. Sitting down on the sofa, she took a sip of tea, opened the letter and began to read.

Buffy stared at the letter for a moment, not sure what to think. She took a deep breath refolded the letter, put it back in its envelope and place it on the table.

She sipped her tea as she sat in silence staring at the envelope.

Draining the mug, she picked up the letter and read it again.

She didn’t know what to do. Of course, she knew what she should do as Spike’s friend - she should pick up the phone and call Jenny, tell her that she would love to go and that would be that - simple.

But it wasn’t that simple.

Things had been difficult between her and Spike ever since she had realised, some months previously, that she was in love with him.

That had been a bit of a revelation in itself. Oh, she had always been aware of the fact that she loved him - the same way that she loved Willow and Xander and Tara. As a friend. But to suddenly realise that she was in love with Spike had completely blindsided her.

She’d wondered at first whether she should tell him - whether she should drive straight over there, knock on his door and tell him how much she loved him and wanted to be with him.

But she hadn’t done. She couldn’t - not after had she realised how badly she had treated him and not after she discovered that he was moving on with his life.

After much thought, she made the decision that he deserved someone better than her and that she would step back and let him find that person. She made the decision that she would have to be happy just to be his friend.

And, she thought to herself as she stared at the letter, that’s what they were. Their relationship had fallen back into the easy banter of its early days. They spoke on the phone almost every night, gossiped and chatted. Relationships seemed to have unspokenly become a non-go area. Buffy had no idea whether Spike was dating anyone in particular and she decided that she didn’t really want to know at this point in time.

She read the letter through once again and thought about it, about him.

The truth was, they talked almost every night, but Buffy was unsure whether she was ready to actually, physically see him yet.

He’d been inviting her over more and more lately, but Buffy had been coming up with excuses not to go.

*Perfectly valid excuses,* she thought to herself. But excuses nonetheless.

She just didn’t think that she was ready to be in the same room with him. She knew that she could keep up the pretence of being happy with friendship over the long distance, but when she was actually with him? That was another matter entirely.

Her memory of him was as clear as if she had only seen him yesterday - how she felt when he turned those cerulean eyes on her, how he could make her feel like the only girl in the world, just with a look. And his smile, his laugh.

She sighed and put the letter on the coffee table. She would have to think of a reason not to go.

Firm in her decision, she stood to make herself another cup of tea before she phoned Jenny to break the bad news.

She imagined him looking round the room, searching for her amongst the other guests. At the light dying in his eyes when he realised that she wasn’t there. At him looking to his mother for an explanation.

*Stop it!* Buffy told herself firmly. *He probably won’t notice. After all, you’re not that important to him,* she thought, knowing that she was fooling herself, that Spike would expect her to be there, that he would want her to be there.

Determined to put an end to it once and for all, Buffy marched into the lounge and picked up the pone, dialling the number in the letter. The line rang for a while before being picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jenny? It’s Buffy, Buffy Summers.”

“Buffy, oh I’m delighted to hear from you - I assume you got the letter. Now, please, tell me that you’ll come.”

“I’d love to,” Buffy heard herself say.

“Fabulous, let me give you the details,” Jenny said enthusiastically.

Buffy frowned as she took down the details of the hotel. She wasn’t sure what had just happened. She was absolutely adamant that she was going to excuse herself from the weekend, but, somehow, she’d accepted.

And it felt fabulous. As she listened to Jenny tell her about the hotel, Buffy found herself getting excited. All of a sudden, she just couldn’t wait. All her fears, all her doubts had been cast aside.

She had no idea what she would do about her feelings for Spike when she actually saw him, but all of a sudden, that didn’t seem so important anymore.

After all, what better time to face him, than when they would be surrounded by people?

Buffy turned off the main road and slowed down as the single track road started to steadily drop away into the tree lined valley which hid the hotel. She couldn’t see the building, but knew from her directions that it lay at the bottom of the step sided dell.

She took the scenery in with a slight tinge of awe as she continued to drive downhill. The steep sides of the vale were covered in trees, giving it a secluded, magical feel - something that was added to by the carpet of bluebells which covered the floor of the woodland. The smell of the flowers surrounded her, enhancing the feeling that she was entering a world that was somehow detached from that which she had left behind at the crossroads. A sense of peace and tranquillity consumed her as she rounded a corner and the hotel came into sight.

When she started on her journey that morning, she had been unable to rid herself of a nagging anxiety about the weekend. She smiled slightly as she recalled the numerous occasions throughout the past few weeks when she’d almost picked up the phone and cancelled the whole thing. Now though, the very idea of even having contemplated doing so seemed ludicrous. As she pulled up outside the hotel, Buffy knew that this was the right thing to do. Feeling more upbeat and optimistic than she had done in a long time, she turned off the engine and climbed out of the car.

She took a moment to take in the building in front of her. For a hotel, it was tiny - and in reality, it had obviously not been built as such. It was a large house, the rows of windows giving it a look of something straight out of a Jane Austen novel - Buffy could almost picture women in empire-line dresses carrying parasols wandering aimlessly around the immaculately manicured lawn which lay to the front of the whitewashed building.

She looked at her watch and realised that she was running late. She pulled her bag from the back seat of the car and hurried into the foyer of the hotel.

“Oh, Buffy - there you are - I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to show up,” Jenny said with a nervous laugh as she hurried across the foyer to stop Buffy before she got too far in.

Buffy wondered if Jenny was nervous because she was late, or if she really did think she wasn’t going to show up.

“Here, let me take your bag. Have you parked out the front?” Jenny asked hurriedly, relieving the blonde of her bag. Buffy nodded her assent as Jenny turned her back towards the entrance. “Go and move your car round the back of the building - William will be here any minute and he’s bound to recognise that car of yours. You’ll have to check in later, I’m afraid, there just isn’t time now.”

Buffy hurried outside and quickly moved her car round to the back of the building, out of sight of the driveway, before joining Jenny and the other guests inside.

“So, what’ve you told Spike then?” she asked curiously.

“Oh,” Jenny laughed. “Rupert gave him a whole spiel about him taking William away on a ‘father-son bonding weekend’. He really went to town and made it sound incredibly boring - William’s been absolutely dreading it and begging me to get him out of it!” she gushed. She opened her mouth to say more, when she got the nod from the desk clerk to say that Giles and Spike had just pulled up outside.

The nervousness, which only minutes ago Buffy had dismissed as ridiculous, returned with a vengeance and Buffy edged her way to the back of the small group of people, praying that her small stature would hide her from sight for as long as possible. Suddenly, seeing Spike again didn’t seem like the good idea she’d viewed it as since her arrival at the hotel.

Her heart began to pound so hard that she thought the whole room must hear it as she saw Spike enter the room. She knew it had to be her imagination playing up, but it seemed to her that a shaft of sunlight fell on him as he entered, lighting up his peroxide hair and throwing highlights on his impossibly blue eyes. Buffy melted as she realised that she was falling in love with him all over again.

Her eyes widened as she came to that realisation and panic threatened to overwhelm her as she realised that she couldn’t allow herself to feel this way - she couldn’t be in love with him - she’d promised herself months ago that she wouldn’t be. Unfortunately, it seemed, her heart had other ideas.

Lost in her own thoughts, it took her a moment to realise that Spike had noticed her pretence almost immediately and was making his way to her. She swallowed nervously and smiled a welcome, not trusting herself to actually speak.

“Buffy,” Spike said, with obvious joy.

“Spike,” Buffy managed, secretly proud of the fact that she’d managed to get out that one word.

“I, well. I’m glad you came. This whole thing - you were in on it?” Spike asked.

“Yeah - well, surprise!” Buffy said, but the feeling that she’d meant to put into her declaration was lacking as she worried about saying too much and missed the mark by a long way.

She cursed mentally as Spike frowned, obviously hunting for something to say to her.

*I knew this was a bad idea!* she thought to herself as they fell quiet. It was obvious to both of them that the casual, friendly, flirtatious relationship they’d built up over the past few months over the phone didn’t stretch to real life. Buffy felt the awkwardness of the situation and knew that Spike did too. She longed to be able to talk to him properly, but the more she thought about it, the more scared and nervous she became and the less her brain worked.

“Well,” Jenny said, interrupting the tongue-tied silence between the two. “I think it’s time we got you checked in, don’t you?” she said, ushering them into reception.

The clerk behind the hotel reception desk looked down his list of names, humming slightly to himself.

“Ahh, yes, here we go - Mr and Mrs William Giles.” He looked up. “Room 5,” he said, before turning round to reach for the key.

Buffy looked at Spike, unable to keep a slight look of alarm off her face. Spike merely shrugged, his face a picture of puzzlement.

“Er, mate,” Spike said, claiming the clerk’s attention. “We’re not Mr and Mrs Giles…” he tried to explain.

“Oh, I am sorry, Sir - misunderstanding. Happens all the time. And you are?” he asked, turning to Buffy.

“Buffy, Buffy Summers,” she explained.

“Right. Good. Fine. Mr Giles, Miss Summers - here is your key. Room 5 is just down the hallway, up the stairs…”

“No mate, I don’t think you understand - we aren’t together at all - we need separate rooms,” Spike insisted, looking down at Buffy with a slightly uncomfortable smile.

The clerk looked at the couple standing on the other side of the desk and sighed. “Oh, well. That’s just not going to be possible, I’m afraid. As you may be aware, this is a very small hotel and, well, we don’t have any other rooms - your party has taken them all. I thought I made it clear when you booked that we only have 5 double rooms,” he said, having the decency to look embarrassed.

“Mum?” Spike asked over his shoulder. Jenny walked forward, biting her lip slightly.

”Yes, well, he might have said that,” she admitted. “To be honest, I was so relieved to find a hotel that wasn’t booked up that I didn’t really listen to the logistics of the whole thing…”

Spike looked helplessly at Buffy, unsure of what to suggest. Buffy sighed dramatically and shook her head.

“Well, if you don’t have another room, then we’ll have to make do, won’t we?” she said with a smile that wasn’t reflected in her thoughts as her heart began to once more beat rapidly.

*So much for always being surrounded by people,* she thought.

*~*~

Spike turned the key in the lock and gallantly held the door open so that she could enter first. Smiling nervously, she walked into the room and looked around.

It seemed nice enough - it was a large room with big picture windows that let in the light, giving the whole room a spacious and airy feel. She spotted a door leading to what she assumed was an en-suite bathroom and in the middle of the room was a large bed. Just the one bed.

The reality of the sleeping arrangements hadn’t sunk in when the clerk had mentioned a double room - Buffy had been nervous enough about the idea of staying in the same room as Spike to not really listen any further.

Spike noticed the expression on her face and followed her gaze. He took a breath and walked into the room, setting his bag down on the floor.

“I’ll take the floor - you can have the bed,” he said with a smile.

Buffy almost sighed in relief, before she remembered why they were here. “I can’t let you do that, Spike - it’s your birthday tomorrow. There’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the floor. I’ll take the floor - you have the bed.”

“You’re being daft - no way I’m letting you sleep on the floor - your constant moaning would keep me awake all night!” Spike argued.

“That’s rubbish and you know it - you’re just being stubborn and doing that stupid ‘gentleman’ thing.”

“Fine, well, if you want to have it that way then we’ll just have to sleep in the same bed!” Spike declared with a smug grin, sure that she wouldn’t take him up on the offer.

“Fine - we’ll just have to do that then, won’t we!” Buffy said triumphantly, her eyes flashing. It took her a moment to realise what she’d agreed to and as she did the light died from her eyes and she flushed and looked away. Unsure of what to say, she walked to the window and looked out, gazing across the lawns towards the blue-carpeted woods.

*~*~

“I’m going to take a bath,” Buffy announced sometime later, as she realised that it was almost time to go downstairs to dinner.

Spike looked up from his position on the bed as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

He lay the book he had been reading down at his side, for the moment totally forgotten as he closed his eyes and listened. He heard her walk across the bathroom and turn on the taps, the water flowing steadily into the deep bathtub.

A smile played across his lips as he let his mind wander, picturing the scene inside the bathroom, imagining Buffy leaning over to add bubble bath to the steaming water. He shifted his position slightly as he imagined her standing back up and slowly taking off her clothes, letting them fall to collect in a pile at her feet, revealing her perfectly toned body.

He opened his eyes suddenly and shook his head, disturbing the carefully crafted image which had taken root there. He took a deep breath as he reminded himself that he wasn’t allowed to think of her in that way anymore.

*At least, not if I want to get through this weekend intact, I can’t,* he thought ruefully.

He decided that he needed a distraction. He stood and walked towards the bathroom door.

“Buffy?” he called softly after knocking.

“Yes?” he heard the reply.

“I’m, er, going out - to see my parents. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?” he told her, after a moment’s pause.

“Oh, right - okay. See you later then,” he heard the response. As he walked out of the room, he told himself that the tinge of disappointment he’d thought he’d heard in her tone was only a figment of his wildly over-active imagination.

*~*~

Buffy lay in the bath, up to her neck in hot water and bubble bath. She sighed and sank down under the water, totally submerging herself, staying down as long as she could before finally coming up for air.

She relaxed back against the tub and closed her eyes, her thoughts wandering. Her mind played back the scene only moments before when Spike had knocked at the door. Only, in her little fantasy, he hadn’t told her he was going out. Instead, he’d knocked quietly and then opened the door, walking into the room, telling her that he was going to join her.

A smile played across her face as she imagined him standing in the middle of the room and slowly taking off his clothes, letting them fall to collect in a pile at his feet, revealing her perfectly toned body as she watched him.

She opened her eyes and sat up suddenly in the bath, mentally shaking herself.

*Stop it,* she told herself firmly. *No thinking of Spike like that! No thinking of that perfectly sculpted body, of that…* she thought, slowly sinking back into the bubbles. *No!* she told herself after a minute, leaning forward and yanking the plug from the bath, letting the water run out.

She stood and wrapped herself in a towel, deciding that the bath was only going to lead to more naked Spike thoughts - and that was not the way to go if she wanted to get through this weekend without becoming a gibbering wreck.

She walked into the main room and seated herself at the vanity table. Picking up the brush, she gently removed the tangles from her long blonde hair, before starting to blow-dry it ready for that evening’s dinner.

She was only half done when she heard the key rattle in the door. She bit her lips as she realised that it could only be Spike. Then she looked down at herself and remembered that she was only clad in a towel. Her mind wavered as to whether she should run into the bathroom and get dressed, but she decided that if she was going to convince him - and herself - that she was over him, then she would have to start somewhere. She picked up the hairdryer once more and started on another portion of her hair.

Spike walked into the room and stopped short as he took in the sight before him of Buffy sitting on a stool, wearing nothing but a large towel, her arms raised above her head as she dried her hair.

*God, if I never ask for anything again, please let that towel fall loose,* he prayed, before recollecting himself and blushing slightly. He turned his head and threw himself down onto the bed, propping himself up on his arm at the foot, intently staring at her.

Buffy carried on drying her hair for a few minute until she could stand it no longer. Deliberately turning off the dryer, she turned to him, arching an eyebrow. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Spike replied with a smirk and a twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re staring,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Yep, I am.”

“Why?”

“To annoy you,” Spike said, breaking into a grin.

“It’s working,” Buffy said, managing to hold back a smile.

“I know,” said Spike gleefully.

“Jerk,” she said, turning back to the mirror.

”True,” he answered, rolling over onto his back and laughing.

Buffy suddenly couldn’t hold it back anymore, and she joined him with a peel of laughter, and with that laughter, the awkwardness that had surrounded them throughout the day simply disappeared.

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