Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Buffy characters, it all belongs to Joss, ME, and some other VERY lucky people.

Timeline: Set in Season 4. Spike is not in love with Buffy, although he is (somewhat grudgingly) helping the scoobies. Buffy and Riley are not dating, but they're 'flirty' with each other.

Rating: PG

AN: Here I go, attempting another spuffy fic! :D I'll update this pretty frequently, as long as school doesn't get in the way. (I don't see why I can't just write fanfiction for English, but my teacher refuses to listen to my brilliant idea. Woe is me.)

Feedback: Please! Anything that's not flames is welcome; I'd love to hear what you think!

Truth or Dare

Chapter One: Dare

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"You are so going to pay." Willow threatened, resuming her seat next to Buffy. Willow's face had turned the color of her hair, and Buffy couldn't speak from laughter.

"I'm serious! I just sang a in front of all those people!" She gestured to the crowded dance floor of The Bronze. "Me! Shy Willow, who can't sing to avert an apocalypse!"

Buffy had finally stopped laughing. "You were good!" She told the red head. "Okay, so maybe you weren't gifted with an amazing voice but . . . well, you agreed to play truth or dare!"

"Yeah, and it's your turn. You are so going to pay!"

"We'll see." Buffy said, doubting Willow could come up with anything really embarrassing.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

Willow bit her lip, thoughtfully scanning the crowd. Buffy had made her suffer public embarrassment, and she was not going to get off easy. That's when she saw him.

Sitting in one of the darker corners of the club. Why did evil always lurk in the dark? He was leaning against the wall, inhaling cigarette smoke was he watched the crowd. The dark black leather of his duster blended into the darkness behind him. It would have been almost impossible to see him, were it not for the white-blond of his bleached hair.

Willow smiled evilly, and Buffy had to wonder if maybe she should have picked truth . . . . .

"Ask Spike to dance." Willow told the slayer.

"What??!!" Buffy demanded.

"I dare you to ask Spike to dance."

"No!" Buffy protested. "He's Spike . . . vampire, evil. Ring any bells, Willow?"

"It's a dare!" Willow cried gleefully. "You have to do it, and you can't tell him it's a dare!"

"But . . ."

"He can't hurt you, so he's not dangerous." Willow pointed out.

"Fine!" Buffy announced. "I'll ask him, but I doubt he'll say yes."

Willow folded her arms across her chest. "Buffy, that is so not fair. You have to actually get him to dace with you."

"Alright." Buffy agreed. "You win, but just one song."

"Just one." Willow echoed.

* * *

Spike took a long drag from his cigarette. It was his last one, and he was going to make it last as long as he could. He'd spent all his money, and the soddin' chip prevented him from knocking some one out to get another pack. Being physically impaired really sucked.

His eyes tracked the blond slayer making her way through the crowd, towards him.

"What do you want, slayer?" He asked.

"Um . . . Well . . ." Buffy shuffled her feet uncomfortably, staring at the ground. She could feel her face growing hot. "Will you dance with me?" She asked quickly.

"What?" Spike asked, after a moment of silence. "I could have sworn you asked me to dance with you . . ." A smirk played over his features. "Now, what kind of dancing are you talking about?"

Buffy went even redder. "The kind to music, obviously. Now come on!"

"No."

"Spike! Why not?"

"Because, one: I hate you. Two: You're the slayer, I'm a vampire. We're mortal enemies in case you've forgotten."

"Stop making this difficult. What else have you got to do?"

"I'm smoking." Spike informed her, blowing smoke into her face.

"You're always smoking." Buffy said rolling her eyes. She quickly grabbed the cigarette from his hand, dropping it to the floor and putting it out with her foot.

"Ey!" Spike protested. "I'll 'ave you know that was my last one!"

Buffy suddenly had an idea. "Tell you what. You dance with me, and I'll buy you another pack of cigarettes."

Spike sighed. "Deal. Mind you, not the cheapest kind. I want good cigarettes if I 'ave to be near you to get 'em."

"Whatever kind you want."

Spike led her on to the dance floor as the next song began; muttering something about how he had sank to an all-time low.

* * *

"Let's see what you can do." Spike said, pulling Buffy so her back was resting against his chest.

He moved his body in time to the music, preditorial instinct letting him match the beat perfectly. Buffy automatically followed him, forgetting to glare at Willow and instead focussing on exactly where Spike's body was and matching her body to his.

The music intensified, as did their pace. Buffy instinctively moved closer to him and warm fleshed merged with cold.

Buffy closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cold and powerful body against her own. The way he moved put her in a state of ecstasy, and she didn't ever want to leave.

The song ended, and another started as Spike spun Buffy around so they were facing each other. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him as close to her as she could get. Spike ran his hands over her curves, noticing for the first time how beautiful the slayer really was . . .

They moved together, two enemies who for once weren't fighting, were for the first time connected.

At the end of the third song, Spike softly separated himself from the slayer. He brought his mouth centimeters from her ear, sending thrills down her spine. "You owe me three packs of cigarettes." Spike whispered softly.

Buffy rolled her eyes as she reluctantly followed him towards the bar, casting one longing glance at the dance floor.

* * *

Willow looked at Buffy curiously as the blond girl sat down beside her. "Want to tell me why you guys danced for three songs instead of one?" She asked.

"He was a good dancer." Buffy said lamely, but the embarrassment was invisible on her already flushed cheeks.

"Ooooooooh." Willow said, winking.

"Will!" Buffy protested. "Stop it! Anyway, it's your turn. Truth or dare?"

Willow laughed. "Truth . . ."

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Chapter Two: Desire

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"Think you can handle me, slayer?" Spike asked the blond girl standing in his crypt. Buffy was wearing leather pants and a tight blue halter-top. Her wavy blond hair fell back from her face as she stared up at him.

"I think I've handled tougher than you." She said, fingers curling tightly around her stake. "Besides, you've made it easy for me." Her eyes surveyed his bare chest with interest.

"Do your best." He taunted, licking his lips.

In only a matter of seconds Buffy had him pinned to the ground. She straddled him, stake positioned above his heart.

"No why do I feel like you let me off easy?" She asked, twirling the wood between her fingers. "Maybe you want something from me?" She had dropped the stake, and was lightly dragging her fingers up his chest. "I know there's something I want from you."

"And what would that be?" Spike asked, breathing in her scent.

"You." Buffy said, placing a soft kiss on his lips. She brought her mouth away from his, grinning evilly. Spike flipped Buffy on to her back, and his lips came crashing down onto hers . . .

"Bloody hell!" Spike exclaimed, waking up suddenly. That was the second Buffy dream he'd had in one night, which led to one conclusion - sleeping wasn't safe anymore.

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The next night Buffy walked into The Bronze, a quick glance affirming none of her friends were here. Another glance told her that he was here, still in his normal corner.

'Stay away from the vampire!' Her mind continued protesting even as her body moved towards Spike. 'Vampires equal bad, or have you forgotten?'

But it didn't matter what her mind was telling her, she was standing next to him, and he was looking at her, with those clear, beautiful blue eyes. Why had she never noticed his eyes before?

"I don' know anythin'" Spike told her pointedly.

"I don't want information. Well, I mean, I do want information, but just not right now, because it's not really an information-wanting time . . ." Buffy rambled.

"What do you want then?"

"Well, I, um, kind of wanted to dance again."

"Liked what you got yesterday?" Spike said, smirking. He discarded his cigarette and led her on to the dance floor.

"You know I still hate you." Buffy told him.

"Don' worry luv, I hate you too." He said, laughing, as he pulled her close to him again.

They sank into the beat, bodies once again falling into the same pattern. All thoughts of good and bad vanished from Buffy's mind, and the only thing left was the need to dance, the need to feel Spike's body against hers.

It wasn't until near the end of the fifth song that Spike noticed how hard Buffy was breathing.

"Want t' rest, pet?" He asked her.

"No." She said, pulling him even closer. "I'm the slayer, I can take you on."

Spike grinned. "Oh, I'm sure you can." He nibbled lightly on her ear, making Buffy moan with pleasure.

He moved from her ear, softly kissing her face until he reached her lips. He pressed his lips against hers, and Buffy's lips parted, giving his tongue the entry it requested.

They finally parted, both panting, even though Spike didn't need the air. Buffy looked up at Spike, and her eyes widened.

"Spike." She said slowly, eyes widening. Then she turned and ran out of the club.

"Buffy, wait!" Spike called, running after her. But it was too late, and Buffy had already vanished into the night.

* * *

Buffy slowed down as she neared her dorm, trying to sort the thoughts racing through her mind.

Why Spike? Of all the people she could have fallen for, why did it have to be one she shouldn't have? It was wrong, vampire and slayer, she'd already tried that. And look at the mess she'd made with Angel.

So why was she doing this again? At least Angel had a soul, Spike, Spike wanted to kill her. Oh yes, he'd make a great boyfriend.

Why wasn't she attracted to some one like Riley? He was nice enough, and, oh yeah, normal. Buffy sighed. She'd figure it all out in the morning, after a nice long sleep.

Buffy was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't see Riley until she almost bumped into him.

"Buffy?"

"Riley? What are you doing out now?" Buffy asked, deciding she might have to check on how 'normal' he really was.

"Couldn't sleep." He said. "Went for a walk to clear my head. You?"

"Yeah, same." Okay, so Riley's status was back to normal. And slightly boring. 'Just because he doesn't have a beautiful, fit body like Spike doesn't mean you can judge him.' She chided herself, before realizing what she had just thought.

"Shit." Buffy muttered, this time aloud.

"What?"

"Oh, I um, just remembered I have some homework I haven't finished." She said quickly, trying to find some way to change the subject.

Riley did it for her. "Can I walk you back to your dorm?" He asked.

"Sure." Buffy said, hardly paying attention. From what he was wearing, it looked like military gear was coming back in style . . . she had never really liked it that much. Then again, she'd never liked punk, but Spike could easily get everyone back into the 70's rock look. Buffy held back laughter imagining Riley with dyed hair wearing all leather.

They walked the rest of the way back to the dorm in silence.

"Well, good night." Buffy said, as they stood outside her dorm.

"See you around."

"Yeah, see you." She said, shutting the door behind her.

'I wonder if Spike would look good in military gear?' Buffy thought as she crawled into bed. 'No,' she decided. 'The black works for him.'

'He'd look even better without anything on . . ." A voice in the back of her mind whispered, and Buffy was just to tired to make it shut up.

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Chapter Three: Waiting

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~Spike's POV~

I probably shouldn't have kissed her last night. Scared her off. Bloody well scared myself too. Me, master vampire, kissing the slayer. Not a good thing.

Then again, I've never been one for morals.

So that's why I'm here again tonight. At this soddin' town's only decent club. I'm waiting for her to show up, to request another dance.

I smile at the thought of dancing with her, and search the crowd for her again. Where is that damned girl?

Two packs of cigarettes and a few hours later, she still hasn't shown up. It's getting late, and the club is slowly emptying. I was right about scaring her off; she won't be coming tonight.

I sigh and put out my cigarette, standing to leave. Thing's will probably go back to normal now: our only contact her pounding me for information, me being as annoying and destructive as I can without actually hurting anyone.

It's probably better that way, because I think I was starting to fall in love with her.

And loving slayers is never a good thing.

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The door to Giles' house flew open, and Spike ran in, smoking slightly despite the blanket held over his head. Giles glanced up from the newspaper he was reading, looking very annoyed.

"Spike, what are you doing here?" Giles asked.

"I've got information." He said, hastily stomping out the flames.

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "And you insist on coming in the middle of the day?"

Spike shrugged. "As good a time as any other."

"Except for the fact that you burn in the sun."

"S' only an hour or so 'till sundown."

Giles sighed and replaced his glasses. "So, what's this information you've got?"

"Vampires, plannin' on takin' control of Sunny hell."

"Go on."

" 'S all right, I'll wait for the slayer, she'll show up here eventually."

Giles looked at the vampire skeptically.

"Buffy's the one who can hurt me, Buffy's the one who wants information, and Buffy's the one who gets her bloody information."

Giles started to protest when the phone rang.

"Don't break anything!" He told Spike as he rushed into another room to pick up the phone.

Well, now Spike just had to break something.

* * *

Spike was carelessly handling a clay object that looked both old and breakable when Willow came in.

" 'Ey!" Spike protested, jumping back from the sunlight that crept across the room.

"S-sorry." The red haired girl apologized. "Have you seen Buffy?"

"Join the waitin' list, pet." Spike replied, and was answered by a blank look on Willow's face. "I'm waitin' for the girl too."

"Oh."

"So, why do you need her?" Spike asked, stretching out on Giles' couch.

"I just really need to talk to her." Willow said. "Are you sure she's not here?"

"Positive. What do you want t' talk to her about anyway?"

"Oh, nothing." Willow said, quickly.

Spike raised an eyebrow.

Willow bit her lip, she really needed to talk to somebody. A vampire who had tried to kill her was probably not the best person, but . . .

"Well, I've got this friend, Tara." Willow started, and seeing Spike listening intently, continued. "Well, we've become really close. Super close. And we were practicing a spell the other night, and then I was kissing her . . ." Willow stopped, expecting a sarcastic comment. None came.

"And I want to tell my friends that Tara and I are . . . more than friends." Willow continued, talking faster, "I have no idea how to, though. I mean, there supposed to be okay with homosexuals and everything, but are they going to act differently around me if they know I'm kissing girls, not guys? And I really like Tara. Really like her. Maybe even more than like. But what if my friends don't approve, what if they just can't accept that?"

Willow's face was flushed, and the color deepened as she realized whom she'd been talking to.

"Tell you what, Red." Spike said, sitting up. "If you've got strong enough feelings for someone, then it doesn't matter who, or what you are. If there's passion between two people, then nothin' else matters. Your friends will just 'ave to accept that."

Willow smiled, feeling oddly calmed by Spike's words. "I guess I'll go see if Buffy's at the dorm." She said, opening the door. "Thank you, Spike."

"You're lettin' the sun in!" Spike protested, and Willow shut the door behind her.

Spike could faintly hear Giles' voice on the phone in another room as he looked for something to do.

* * *

The sound of someone playing a piano drifted out of Giles' house towards Buffy. She hadn't known Giles was so good at the piano. Or that he even played.

"I didn't know you played so well, Giles." Buffy said as she opened the door. "It sounds really nice - - Spike?"

Spike stopped playing and turned to face Buffy. "Surprised t' see me, slayer?"

"I didn't know you played the piano . . ."

Spike shrugged. "Picked it up in the 1800's. You don't play?"

"I always wanted too, but then there was slaying . . ."

"C' mere." He said, motioning the spot on the piano bench next to him. Against her better judgement, Buffy sat down next to Spike.

"Put your fingers on top 'f mine." Decked out in silver rings with black painted nails, his fingers looked out of place resting so lightly on the piano keys.

Buffy put her hands on top of Spike's, and he began to play again. With her fingers following the movement of Spike's, it felt almost like she was playing, and the blond beamed.

"I missed you last night." Spike whispered softly, lips almost touching her ear. "Why didn't you come?"

"I - I was busy." She stammered.

"I was right."

"What?"

"You can't handle me." He said with a smirk, just as Giles burst into the room. Buffy and Spike jumped apart from each other, landing on opposite sides of the room.

"Spike!" Giles yelled. "If you've broken anything, I swear - Buffy! Good, you're finally here. Spike's been waiting for you, says he has information of some sort."

Buffy looked at Spike expectantly.

"Right." He started. "A group of vamps are plannin' to do some sort of control spell. Pretty much forces any one in Sunnydale who wasn't part of the spell to do whatever they say."

"Spike," Buffy said suspiciously. "Why don't I have to beat this out of you?"

Spike shrugged. "Don' fancy bein' controlled by a bunch 'f minions."

"Oh, poor Spikey." Buffy teased. "You didn't get invited to participate in the latest scheme to take over the world."

"Thanks to the soddin' chip in my head!"

"That's too bad." She said, mock pouting. "Why don't we go kill some demons?"

"I'll have you know you'll be the first person I kill when I get this out." He informed Buffy, noting thankfully that the sun had gone down as he followed her outside.

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Chapter Four: Games

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Spike and Buffy crept quietly through the abandoned warehouse, sticking to the shadows. Lucky for them, the 30 vampires sitting in a circle were to engrossed in the spell to notice them.

The chanting grew louder, and the air was filled with a vibrancy that made Buffy uncomfortable. Magic was Willow's thing, not hers.

A ball of light appeared in the middle of the circle, small at first but growing steadily larger.

"Now!" Buffy shouted, and she and Spike launched themselves into the circle of vampires. Buffy's cry had startled the vampires, and their concentration was broken.

The light disappeared as the vampires stopped chanting and jumped out of the circle, ready to fight.

And fight they did.

Fists flew and blows were exchanged, stakes appeared in Buffy's hand and ended up in vampires' chests. Spike seemed to enjoy decapitating his fellow vampires, and was happily swinging a sword he had acquired from god- knows-where.

"Slayer, how many 'ave you killed?" Spike asked, finding himself fighting next to Buffy.

"That would be seven." Buffy said as she plunged her stake into the heart of a vampire.

"Well, I'm winnin' then." Spike said triumphantly, tossing another vampire across the room. "I've dusted eight."

They glanced at each other, and then returned to fighting with even more fury.

"Ten!" Spike cried out.

"Eleven!" Buffy shot back.

Spike growled and launched himself at the nearest vampire.

Minutes later, the vampire that Buffy was about to stake turned to dust in front of her, revealing Spike. She turned to fight the next one, only to realize that there were no more.

"Fifteen." Spike said, panting unnecessarily.

"Fifteen." Buffy echoed, breathing just as hard.

" 'S a tie then."

"I know where I can find another vampire." Buffy teased.

"That's nice." Spike said playfully. "But a slayer's worth five points."

Buffy squealed and ran out of the warehouse, Spike following closely. She ran down the dark streets, hearing Spike's loud boots behind her and a clatter as he dropped his sword.

She soon found herself in one of Sunnydale's many graveyards, and stopped running, spinning around to face Spike. Only the vampire wasn't there.

"Spike?" Buffy said, looking around her. She could feel him close by, but she couldn't see him. "Spike, I know you're h-"

She was cut off as he jumped out from the shadows, tackling her. She flipped him onto his back, and straddled him, effectively pinning him to the ground.

"Well, pet." Spike said, voice dripping with innuendo. "You've got me where you want me, now what are you goin' t' do?"

Buffy felt her body turn warm and she suddenly needed to get as close to the bleached vampire as she could.

"Well, I was going to stake you." She told him matter-of-factly. "But your shirt's in the way."

"Then by all means, get rid of it."

Buffy didn't need to be told twice. She tossed her stake aside and ripped Spike's tight black T-shirt open, revealing his toned muscular chest. Her mouth watered as her eyes traveled from his chest to his smirking face, back to his amazing chest, to that really sexy smirk, and those beautifully defined cheekbones . . .

Now Buffy was on her back, as Spike flipped her over and landed on top.

"Bite." Spike said, vamping. He made a small cut in her neck, before quickly licking the wound clean. Surprisingly, Buffy felt no pain, only pleasure. "I won." He whispered into her ear.

"Your chip . . . "

"I'm not tryin' to hurt you, luv."

Buffy eagerly stretched her neck as he kissed the wound lightly again. He placed kisses up her neck until he finally reached her mouth, and her lips eagerly greeted his.

They rolled through the graveyard, oblivious to anything else in their passion. Hands and lips explored new territory as each tried to satisfy their want for the other.

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

Buffy lay beside Spike on the grass, staring up at the black night. His duster and torn shirt had been discarded, and his unbuttoned pants were hanging loosely from his hips. Buffy's shirt had come off during their make-out session, but she had managed to keep her pants on. Barely.

"Wow." She said, breathing deeply.

"Wow." Spike agreed.

Buffy reluctantly stood up, retrieving her shirt from its place on a nearby gravestone.

"Runnin' off already?" Spike asked from his place on the ground.

"I should get back." Buffy said as she pulled her shirt over her head. "My friends are probably waiting for me."

"They think you're fightin' nasties." Spike pointed out. "No reason t' hurry. Come rest a little while."

How could she resist him? Looking at her with those pale blue eyes, his normally gelled back hair mussed up. He looked . . . adorable. (And that was not a word generally associated with Spike.)

"Well, alright." Buffy said and returned to her place on the floor. She closed her eyes as she spooned gently against his body. "But only for a little while."

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"You were out late last night." Willow commented as she and Buffy got ready for the morning's classes.

"Spike and I were fighting demons . . . it took longer than usual." Buffy said, hoping Willow wouldn't notice the color rising in her cheeks.

"You know, Spike's actually pretty nice." The wicca said, running a brush through her hair.

Buffy halted, startled to hear words like that coming from a scoobie. Maybe she and Spike weren't so hopeless after all. "Yeah." Buffy said slowly. "He's can be fun to hang out with it."

"Don't you mean 'he can be fun to kill things with'?"

"Same thing."

Willow laughed before turning more serious, putting away her hairbrush and turning to face Buffy.

"Buffy?" Willow asked, chewing her lip nervously. "You've met Tara, right?"

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Chapter Five: Hell of a Storm

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Buffy was tired, and now her wrist hurt. American History was no fun - plus it required way too much note-taking. Besides, hadn't she already learned this in fifth, eighth, and tenth grade? Why did she have to learn it all again? Did anyone really care about American History?

Buffy sighed and doodled her pen lazily over the paper. Making out with vampires in graveyards was more fun this! And if that vampire was Spike, well, then it was WAY more fun . . .

*~*~* Spike ran his hands under her shirt, lightly massaging her back as he dragged his skilled fingers up it. Buffy moaned as her shirt came off, allowing the cool night air to caress her skin.

He grasped her by the hips and the petite girl wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her fingers through his hair as they kissed passionately . . . *~*~*

A smile played across Buffy's lips. If that was fun, imagine sex with Spike! Her mind ground to a sudden halt at that thought.

Sex with Spike? Not happening. Been there, none that, got the stalker. She racked her brain for all the reasons they couldn't be together . . .

He was evil; he wanted to kill her. She was supposed to kill him, he was evil, she hated him! Remember that? Buffy asked herself. You hate Spike. Definitely don't desire him physically. Hate him.

"Buffy Summers." The history professor was known for calling on students who didn't seem to be paying attention. "What was the name of the founder of America's first colony?"

"I hate him!" Buffy cried out, saying the first thing that came to her mind.

The room erupted into laughter, while the professor shook his head in dismay. "Weather or not you like him," He said, "You still need to know who he was. I suggest you do some extra studying tonight."

"Sorry." Buffy muttered as she turned back to her notes, face growing hot. She was going to pay attention for the rest of class, take good notes, and . . .

*~*~* His tongue explored her body, finding all of her most sensitive points and applying just the right pressure as she kept her fingers embedded in his hair and kissed him anywhere and everywhere she could reach . . . *~*~*

History was hopeless.

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"Buffy!" Xander called, catching Buffy's attention as she was leaving school.

"Xander!" She cried, delighted. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I'm on break." Xander explained. "Um, did Willow tell you about . . ."

"Her and Tara?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah." Buffy echoed. "I never really expected Willow to, you know, become lesbian."

"Me neither. It's kind of strange . . . I don't have anything against it, of course, it just . . . "

"I know what you mean." Buffy agreed. "It's . . . unexpected. I'm just glad she wasn't afraid to tell us."

"Same here." Xander said, glancing at his watch. "Well, I better get back to work. See you 'round."

"See you."

"Buffy!" Another voice called, and the blond spun around. "I was hoping I'd catch you before you left." Riley said with a smile.

"Oh, hi Riley." She greeted.

"Listen, I know it's short notice." Riley started. "But I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go see a movie tonight."

Thoughts raced through Buffy's head. She had been hoping Riley would ask her out for weeks. But after Spike-Riley seemed so dull now! 'You and Spike aren't going to last.' She reminded herself. 'Don't ruin your chances with Riley, the nice, normal guy.'

"I'd love to." Buffy said brightly.

"Great! I'll pick you up at seven."

"I'll be ready, see you then!" Buffy smiled as Riley walked away; she had a date tonight, she should be smiling, she should be happy!

So why was there a sinking feeling in her stomach?

~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~

Spike paced in the hallway, running his fingers through his bleached hair. She wasn't supposed to make him this nervous-since when did he care what the slayer thought of him?

Well, he did now. Spike drew an unnecessary breath and knocked on Buffy's door.

"Come in!" She called out from inside.

Spike couldn't help rolling his eyes. No matter how long she was the slayer, that girl was never going to learn.

"I'll be ready in a sec." Buffy said, turning around. Her eyes widened when she realized it was Spike in the room with her.

"S-spike!" She said, voice higher than normal.

" 'Ey luv." He said smoothly, kissing her forehead.

"How did you get here-I mean with the sunlight thing."

"It's cloudy enough; there's goin' t' be a hell 'f a rain storm tonight by the look off those clouds."

"Oh, lovely, patrolling in the rain." Buffy said sarcastically.

"You look beautiful." Spike said softly, running his hand through her hair. "What are you gettin' all dressed up for?"

"Well, I, um," Buffy said nervously, looking down at Spike's boots. "Actually, I'm going out on a date with this guy, Riley . . . "

"You're what?" Spike said, abruptly stepping away from the slayer.

"You're not mad are you? Please don't be mad." Buffy half begged.

"Oh, no I'm not a tad bit angry." Spike said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Why would I be mad? S'not like we actually have anything between us. Sure, we've kissed a few times, we've gone a bit farther then that, but hey, I guess I'm just your vampire play-toy. After all, every girl should 'ave one."

"Spike!" Buffy cried. "Spike, you know it would never work. You're a vampire!"

"I know it would never work, slayer. Don' you worry your pretty little head about it. In fact, I think I'm even remembering just how much I loved hating you."

With that, he strode out of the room, eyes screaming with cold fury.

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"Good-night, Riley." Buffy said cheerfully, standing in front of her dorm.

"Good-night, Buffy." Riley said, and leaned in towards Buffy, kissing her lightly on the lips. "See you tomorrow, then."

"See you." Buffy said, and escaped into her room. The cheerful façade slipped from her face and she leaned against the door, closing her eyes with exhaustion.

It had been a nice enough kiss . . . so why did she have the sudden urge to brush her teeth?

It was all just too complicated she decided, putting on black sweatpants and a white tank-top. She was supposed to be having fun on her date, yet all she had been able to think about was Spike: his tender kisses the night before, the anger and pain in his eyes the next afternoon.

Although she was exhausted, Buffy couldn't sleep. She wandered down the dorm hallway until she got outside, standing in the pouring rain. It was one hell of a storm-or at least, it was for Southern California.

Buffy walked down the gray street, shivering with cold as the rain seeped through her clothing. Yet she kept on, the last thing she wanted to do was return to her empty, silent dorm room. (Willow was gone, staying at Tara's for the night.)

Why oh why couldn't she get Spike off her mind? Why did it all have to be so complicated? The tears fell down her cheeks, as she continued walking through the drenching rain.

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Chapter Six: Warm, Dry, Crypt.
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Spike looked the whiskey bottle up and down, trying to decide if he should drink it all in one gulp.

Bloody women, always making him depressed.

He had started thinking he was in love with her, and then she's suddenly going out with some farm-boy who probably thinks Sunnydale is a big city. That's when he remembered how much easier it had been hating her, that's when he tried to convince himself that he hated her again.

Only it didn't work, he was just as much in love with her as he had been before, if not more. Not just her looks, she was beautiful, yeah, but he loved everything about her: from the way she touched him to her feisty temper. Everything.

The vampire was trying to decide if he should get drunk, go out and kill something, watch hours of 'Passions' reruns, or all three, when the knock sounded on his crypt door.

Who would be knocking? Sure, people came around, but God forbid they should ever knock.

He opened the door cautiously, and saw the very last person he expected to see.

"B-buffy?" Spike stammered.

She stood in the pouring rain, normally bouncy, curly, hair plastered against her head in waves. Her clothes were soaking, and she was shivering from the cold. (Had she really expected to stay warm wearing a tank-top?) Spike took this all in with one glance, the tear tracks on her cheeks instantly drawing his attention.

"Did he hurt you?" Spike asked, anger rising in his voice. "If he hurt you, I swear he's going to regret it. I'm goin' t' drive a bloody railroad spike through his 'ead, show him where I got my name. And, that, that's just the beginning'! After that, I'm goin t'-OW!!!!" Spike screamed in pain as his chip went off. "Great, now I can't even think about hurtin' people!" He yelled at no one in particular.

Buffy giggled slightly at his outburst.

"Oh fine, just laugh at my misfortune." Spike said, pulling Buffy out of the rain and into his crypt.

"Now dry off." Spike instructed the girl, handing her a few bath towels. "Take off those wet things and put on these." He added, tossing her one of his black T-shirts and a pair of black boxers.

The thought, 'Spike wears boxers?' Drifted briefly through Buffy's mind as she dried off.

"Good, you're dressed." He said a few minutes later. Spike's black T- shirt was loose on her small frame, and she had to roll the boxers up to make them fit. "Not you're going to sit down," he said, indicating the green chair. "And tell me exactly what happened."

Buffy meekly sat down, wondering when she had begun taking orders form Spike.

"And if he hurt you, in any way," Spike continued. "I swear I'm goin' t' kill him, chip or not."

"Riley didn't hurt me." Buffy assured the vampire. "Nothing happened, actually. We saw some boring action movie he wanted to see, and then he brought me home."

"So then why were you standing out side my crypt, in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain, crying?" Spike paced up and down his crypt.

"I-I don't know." Buffy stammered. "I'm so confused . . . I didn't want to be alone. My dorm room's too . . . too empty." Buffy began to talk faster. "And then after this afternoon, after you left, I couldn't stop thinking about you, thinking about how upset you'd seemed. I just wanted to make everything better." The tears began flooding her face again. "I can't stop thinking about you, and I don't know why."

Spike stopped pacing and pulled Buffy into his arms. "S'all right, luv. 'M a bit confused myself. Don' you worry about it though, everything will be alright."

Buffy sobbed and shuddered, pulling herself further into Spike's embrace. How was it he could make her feel so much better in only a few words?

"Jesus girl!" Spike exclaimed. "You're almost as cold as me!" He picked her up in one, graceful movement. "We got t' get you warmed up, or your watcher will blame me for gettin' his slayer sick."

He was rewarded with a small smile from Buffy.

He laid her in his bed, pulling the covers over her shivering frame. Spike laid on top of the covers, draping an arm over the slayer.

"This one time, in London . . ." Spike started, and began telling Buffy the funniest memories he could think of (skipping over the bloody parts); anything he thought would make her feel better.

The tears gradually stopped falling down Buffy's face as Spike continued talking, and soon she was laughing.

"Did farm-boy kiss you?" Spike asked at a lull in the conversation.

"Yeah." Buffy admitted.

"Was it a good kiss?"

"It was okay."

Spike crushed his lips against hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth. Buffy moaned and kissed him back, her own tongue exploring his mouth.

"As good as that?" Spike asked, smirking at the girl panting next to him.

"God, no!" Buffy exclaimed. "Far from it."

"Looks like I won again."

She rolled her eyes. "You are so immature."

"You wouldn't have me any other way." Spike said, laughing.

"Mmmm." Buffy agreed, closing her eyes and soon drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

Spike watched the slayer lying next to him sleep, wondering why he had never noticed how beautiful she was. He moved a lock of blond hair off her face, careful not to disturb her.

"I love you." He whispered softly.

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Chapter 7: C'est la Vie

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The second Buffy opened her eyes she saw Spike. He was sleeping right next to her, his eyes closed as she admired his face. Ivory skin and sharp cheekbones - he looked more like a Greek statue of a god then a sleeping vampire.

Spike was still lying on top of the bedcovers, and the slayer was starting to hate the barrier of cloth between her and Spike. She tried to squirm out from under the blankets, but the strong arms of the still-sleeping Spike held her tighter.

Not wanting to wake him, Buffy stopped moving. Besides, she was so comfortable here: Spike-scent surrounding her, Spike arms holding her. How much better could life get?

Spike mumbled something and opened his eyes slowly.

"Mornin' luv." He said with a yawn.

"Morning." Buffy replied cheerfully.

"Sleep well last night?"

"Better then I have in ages." Buffy said honestly. "Guess I'll just have to sleep here every night from now on." She added, teasing.

"Guess so." Spike agreed.

They laid in a comfortable silence for awhile, staring up at the ceiling of Spike's crypt.

"I love Saturday's." Buffy commented. "No school, no work. And since I'm in college, no mom telling me I've got chores to do-Mom!" Buffy practically jumped out of the bed.

"What is it, pet?"

"I promised my mom I'd meet her at 9:00 this morning . . . I hardly ever see her anymore." Buffy hastily pulled a watch out of her now-dried pants pocket. "Shit! It's 8:30, I've only got a half hour!"

Buffy threw on her clothes and ran out the door, reminding herself to never, ever, make plans so early in the morning again.

Spike sighed, glumly pulling himself out of bed. It was possible that Buffy really had made plans this early, but he couldn't help thinking it was just an excuse she made up to get away from him quickly.

Well, C'est la vie: that's life.

The door came flying open, and only the fact that it was still cloudy outside kept Spike from being fried by the sun as Buffy raced back in.

She pulled him into a long, hard kiss; her entire being pleading for something Spike so wanted to give her.

Buffy finally broke away. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry I have to leave so early, and thanks for last night-I had a really great time."

He answered by pulling her towards him, and their lips met again; divine ecstasy in so small an action. Spike finally released her, and Buffy stared up at him, breathless.

"Go on, pet." Spike said, guiding her towards the door. "Don't keep your mum waitin'."

"Again . . . soon." Buffy managed to say, backing out the door.

" 'F course, luv." He replied, smiling.

Life had just gotten a lot better.

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It was 9:30, when Buffy knocked on her front door. Normally she wouldn't feel bad about being late, it was just the fact that she hadn't bothered to stop by and see Joyce that made her feel guilty, made her feel like she should at least be early on the rare times they did see each other.

Joyce answered the door, pulling her into a welcoming hug.

And then Buffy got the shock of a lifetime, entering the living room and finding no one other that Spike sitting there. Lounged across the large chair, limbs spread out over the piece of furniture.

"Spike came over to say hello." Joyce explained. "I'll get my purse from upstairs, and then we can be on our way!"

"'Ello, luv." Spike said as Joyce disappeared up the steps. "You look a little different than the rain-soaked Buffy I saw last night."

The color rose on Buffy's cheeks. "God, I must have looked horrible, I'm surprised you didn't take me for a demon and try to kill me."

"You looked beautiful." Spike replied, pulling her into a soft kiss. "You always do."

Buffy only turned redder from the compliment. "So, um, not that I mind, but why are you here?"

"Figured I'd keep your mum company while you got ready."

"Thanks." Buffy said gratefully.

"I'm all ready!" Joyce called out as she came into the living room.

"Time for major shopping!" Buffy cried gleefully.

"Spike, you sure you can get home with out bursting into flame?" Joyce asked, concerned.

"I'll be fine." Spike assured her. He bolted down the sidewalk, blanket held over his head as the two women got into the car. He had some shopping plans of his own.

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Buffy walked into her room, exhausted from a full day of shopping. She was staying at her house for the night, no reason to go back to the dorm when she felt like her feet were going to fall of any minute.

She dropped the heavy shopping bags in her room, quickly changing into pajamas. It was only 10:00; Buffy normally wasn't so tired at the hour. Patrolling would just have to wait.

She pulled open the bed covers, and dozens of flowers fell out. Someone had layered jasmine flowers and rose petals under her comforter, and the sweet aroma was quickly consuming the room.

Who would do that for her? Buffy's mind immediately jumped to Spike, but she discarded the idea. The vampire just seemed to, vampiric, to do such a thing.

She picked up one of the white jasmine flowers; its soft petals were as sweet to her touch as its scent was to her nose.

Finding out who did this could be done in the morning, Buffy decided, lying down on top of the red and white flowers spread over her bed. 'God, it smells good.' She though, reaching a hand under her pillow and feeling the distinct texture of heavy paper.

Sure enough, in black ink on the small white sheet of paper there was a message written in elegant handwriting.

Sleep well, luv.

That was all it said, but that was enough. 'Spike.' Buffy thought, a smile rising on her lips.

There was a lot more to that vampire than bleached hair and a leather coat.

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"I'm turnin' into a soddin' poof." Spike informed the demon sitting next to him.

"It can't be that bad." Clem reassured him.

"It is though! I dance with that slayer bint once, just once, and then I can't get her out of my head! We kiss a bit, go farther than kissing, but we haven't even shagged and I'm decoratin' her room with flowers! And those flowers," He added, "Were not poisonous. They were the ones I thought she would like!"

Clem couldn't help laughing at the terror in his friends' voice as he talked. "Well, I'm sure she liked the flowers."

"That's not the point! I'm supposed t' kill her, not leave her presents."

Clem shrugged. "Tell you what, I heard there was a new nest of vamps down in the wherehouse district, why don't you go kill something?"

"Alright." Spike agreed. "Sounds like a good plan."

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~The lotion smelled sweet, a fragrant mix of jasmine and roses. His skilled hands sensually rubbed the lotion onto her back.

"Spike . . ." She murmured, as he massaged her sore muscles.

"Just relax, luv, just relax."

He continued to rub lotion over her back, hands moving to her stomach, and upwards, slowing caressing her full breasts . . .~

The alarm clock went off, waking Buffy up as she frantically tried to find the off button. Why did it always ring when she was having a good dream?

She yawned, glancing at the clock that proudly displayed the time in bright red numbers. What sensible person got up at 2 AM?

She pulled on more slay-worthy clothes: black jeans, white shirt, complete with a leather jacket.

Buffy went through all the other graveyards first, trying to figure out what she would say to Spike. Enlightenment refused to come, so she headed over to his graveyard still contemplating what she would say. Buffy threw open the doors, revealing a very empty crypt.

Sure, the TV was there, as was his favorite chair, and the fridge where he kept his blood . . . but it was missing the distinct, commanding, presence of Spike.

She should have expected this; it was the middle of the night, of course he'd be gone. But the blond slayer couldn't help feeling disappointed, no matter what logic said.

"Lookin' for me?" A familiar English voice asked, startling her.

Buffy spun around, finding herself face to face with Spike. "Well, yeah." She admitted.

"I'm flattered." Spike said, feigning embarrassment.

"You should be." Buffy teased back, pulling him into a soft kiss.

"You smell nice." Spike commented as they pulled apart.

"Probably because I've been sleeping in a bed covered with flowers some one sent me."

"Now who would that be?" Spike questioned, smirk playing across his lips.

Damn, he was sexy when he smirked.

"It was really sweet of you."

"You make it so hard to be evil, slayer."

They kissed again, longer this time; tongues exploring mouths as hands explored bodies.

"You know, my mom's going to be gone tomorrow." Buffy said when they parted again. "You should come over while my bed still smells nice."

Did she have any idea of what she had just suggested? " 'F course I'll come."

"See you then."

Spike watched her walk away, deciding she much less naïve then he had thought. Un-life kept getting better and better.

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Chapter Eight: Love and Chocolate

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Night fell on Sunnydale, covering the town in a blanket of darkness. There was no silver gleam from the moon, and even the stars seemed smaller; diminishing like a candle on the end of its wick. Anything could hide in the velvet cover of night: secretes, lies, love, death. Shrouded in an air of mystery, anything could happen.

If he chose to do so, he could wear the shadows like a cloak, he could prowl through the streets unnoticed. But he didn't wear the dark, he strode through the silent town, heavy boots proudly proclaiming his entrance to anyone who bothered to listen.

The worn leather of his duster flanked his muscular figure; smelling of blood, liquor, and smoke it only added to the warnings that radiated off his body. Just try, he seemed to say, just try to question me, try to defeat me. I'll win, and I'll laugh as you die.

Although his body screamed DANGER! Spike felt more nervous than he had in ages. Black polished fingernails clenched the box of chocolates buried in his coat pocket as he approached her door.

'She invited you over.' He had to remind himself. 'It's not like you're just barging in.'

But still, it felt weird.

He knocked on the door, the knock sounding more sure of itself than Spike was.

Then she opened the door, and all thoughts vanished.

If he had a heartbeat, his heart would have raced. If he had needed to breathe, his breath would have quickened. And if it weren't for centuries of practice, his heart would have raced and his breath quickened weather or not it was logical.

She looked like a goddess; face flushed with excitement she was trying to hide, waves of golden hair cascading down her shoulders-her entire being radiating with life.

"Hey Spike." She said nervously, stepping aside so he could come in.

" 'Ey, pet." He said, once again shocking himself at how calm he sounded.

He pulled her into a long, slow kiss, her body automatically molding against his, hitting all the places that made him shiver with pleasure . . .

"What do you want t' do tonight?" He asked, blue eyes sparkling with enough mischief to match his smirk.

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Buffy lay on the couch, leaning against Spike's chest. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, their legs intertwined as they watched an old comedy playing on TV.

It was a pretty funny movie, and Buffy loved the way Spike's normally still chest vibrated when he laughed.

The movie ended and Buffy turned off the TV, playing with Spike's fingers.

"I'm going to get something to eat." She told him. "Do you want anything?"

"Wait a second, luv." Spike said, shifting so he could reach a hand into his pocket. "Might as well give this to you now, seein' as you're hungry and all."

He pulled out a slightly dented box of chocolates, handing it to the excited slayer.

"Figured you 'ad enough flowers." He commented.

"Oooooo!" Buffy squealed with delight. "Chocolate!"

She sat up instantly, opening the box and looking inside greedily. Her fingers hovered above the box, trying to select one of the delicious treats.

"Try this one." Spike recommended, choosing a dark chocolate and holding in tauntingly in front of Buffy's lips. She ate it from his hand, sucking on his finger as the fudge inside the chocolate seeped out, the luscious combination of both chocolate and Spike in her mouth overwhelming her.

She swallowed, and ran her tongue around his finger one last time before releasing it.

"You want one?" She asked him.

He grinned as an answer, and Buffy picked up a milk chocolate, holding lightly between her teeth. Spike brought his mouth to hers, pulling the candy from her teeth while his lips caressed hers.

Buffy smiled in response, letting a chocolate slide down her shirt.

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Spike licked the last bit of chocolate off Buffy's cheek, while she moaned and ran her hands up his bare chest.

"Want you." She breathed, pulling up from the floor and making sure Spike's body stayed against hers.

"Buffy." He said, carrying full-blown passion in that one word.

"Spike." The blond moaned, moving towards the stairs while still kissing him. "Need you. All of you. In me."

She practically screamed with frustration when he pulled out of the kiss.

"Are you sure, luv?" He asked, pale blue eyes searching her face.

"I'm sure." She answered. "So sure . . . I need you, Spike."

"Whatever my lady requests." Spike agreed, sweeping Buffy off her feet and carrying her up the rest of the stairs.

Shirts had long ago been discarded; pants and undergarments were removed while the kisses never stopped.

"Beautiful." Spike whispered as he sank into her warm and welcoming body. "So beautiful."

The soft mattress received their joint bodies; crushed under their combined weight were the few lingering blossoms of last night's romantic gesture.

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Spike gazed upward, listening to the blond woman in his arms pant with exhaustion, his own chest rising and falling rapidly even though he didn't need the air.

She was amazing-he had never felt like this before. His whole body ached for her, he felt like he could never get enough of the divine goddess lying at his side. They fit so perfectly together, it was as if they had been made for each other.

If this wasn't love, then Spike didn't know what was.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as a sob convulsed through Buffy's body.

"Buffy?" He asked, immediately turning towards her. "Luv, are you alright? Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to hurt you . . ."

"No, it's not you." She said, sniffling. "You were wonderful, amazing . . . it was better than anything."

"What is it then, pet?" He asked, brushing the lone tear off her cheek.

"It just that . . . this is when something bad happens. This is when you change, this is when you leave . . ."

"Never." Spike said ferociously. "I'm not goin' anywhere, I'm stayin' right here."

"Everyone always leaves."

"Not me. I love you to much to leave you." He peppered light kisses over her cheeks, drying the tears there.

"L-love?"

"Love."

A smile lit up Buffy's face as she snuggled against Spike's chest, closing her eyes in exhaustion. He loved her! Her whole being sang with joy. He loved her, and he wasn't going anywhere.

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