Chapter 15

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Elizabeth said with that same grin that had been plastered across her face for the past two weeks still lighting up her face. “Sometimes it seems like everything just happened so fast,” she admitted, “and I get worried that I’ve just dived right in. But, then, when I really think about it, I realize that our relationship has been building steadily ever since we met. I mean, I was technically dating Riley, but Spike and I were definitely going through the first few steps. So, when you look at it like that, we’re actually going really slowly.”

“Especially since you still haven’t managed to have sex,” Anya said, bored, leafing through a magazine as she lay on her stomach sprawled across one of the couches in Spike’s living room.

Willow rolled her eyes at Anya before turning her attention back to Elizabeth. She’d had quite a time trying to get a hold of her roommate without a certain peroxide blond present, and she planned on taking full advantage of what gossip time they had.

“But serious smoochies, right?” Willow demanded. “Well, obviously,” she shook her head, “but beyond the serious smoochies we’ve seen?”

“Serious smoochies,” Elizabeth agreed, laughing slightly at Willow’s characteristically unique way to phrasing things. “Firmly on third base serious smoochies.”

“So you have had orgasms then?” This seemed to interest Anya, and she turned to face the other two women for the first time. “Many orgasms?”

Elizabeth blushed furiously. “He has…talented hands,” she said elusively.

“And do you have ‘talented hands’, too?” Willow couldn’t help but tease.

Elizabeth’s face went from red to maroon in response. “Well, that’s certainly…something…” She buried her head in her hands, embarrassed beyond belief.

“He has a very large penis, doesn’t he?” Anya commented. “I’m trying to get a look at Xander’s, but he never gets conveniently drunk for me to check it out.”

Elizabeth shot her a worried look.

“Don’t worry,” Anya quickly reassured her. “I got Spike drunk way back before he quit. Reminding him of it frequently keeps him on the straight and narrow.”

Elizabeth merely shook her head. The amazing was that despite the contorted logic that Anya operated under, the world still managed to work out. It was actually kind of impressive once you got used to the all manner of strange statements that came from the young woman’s mouth.

“So,” Willow turned back to the important matter of wheedling as much information out of her roommate as she could, “last weekend when you didn’t come back to our room once…”

Elizabeth flashed her a delighted little smile. “Spike’s bed is Spike-scented and warm,” she joked in the most simplistic voice she could manage.

Willow laughed at that. “But just smoochies, huh?” she demanded.

“Very, very nice smoochies,” Elizabeth corrected. “Toe-curling, earth-shattering, lightning-striking, world’s-coming-to-an-end smoochies.”

“And you still aren’t tempted to have sex?” Anya asked incredulously.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t tempted,” Elizabeth answered with a sly smile.

“Ooh!” Anya and Willow both exclaimed in unison, sitting bolt upright.

“Spill!” Willow quickly demanded.

Elizabeth shrugged. “We’ve just, y’know…talked about it,” she admitted shyly.

“Just talked?” Anya sounded horribly disappointed. “What’s wrong with Spike anyway? He should be ravishing you right now so that I can mooch vicariously off of your orgasms…” She tried to affect a pout, but an amused little smile kept creeping through.

“We just want to be ready…” Elizabeth said evasively.

“Always a good idea,” Willow agreed with an approving smile. “Make sure you’re nice and comfortable…”

“And then, mmm, Spike…” Elizabeth agreed, letting her head flop onto the couch back, her eyes closed as she let out a sensual little murmur.

“Know I just heard my name mentioned,” Spike picked that moment to return to the room, followed closely by Oz and then Joyce.

“Hope you girls didn’t mind me stealing your men,” Joyce said with an amused glint in her eye.

“Not an issue,” Willow retorted, earning several laughs.

“Just so long as you brought them back in one piece,” Elizabeth agreed, her hand casually brushing against Spike’s thigh as he sat down on the couch beside her.

They’d been rather openly public about their relationship ever since Elizabeth had intentionally sat down next to Spike that first Monday morning even though half the chairs at the table were empty, and the two of them had shared furtive little smiles. Anya had blinked, frowned, and then asked loudly enough that the whole school had probably heard, “Are you two having sex?!” Bothering to be discreet after that had been pointless, and they’d pretty much been joined hip-to-hip everywhere they went ever since.

Spike had even gone so far as to follow her to her English class on a couple of days, just so they could play footsie under the desks. Elizabeth’s English professor had just blinked at the sudden, random appearance of a punk kid in her class and gone right on with the discussion. And Elizabeth could honestly say that she’d never had a more fun class.

She’d quickly discovered that the number one plus (well, OK the number two plus since Spike himself was the number one plus) to being together with Spike was that she could still hang out with her friends in Westing House and hang out with him, too. Last weekend, all their ‘dates’ had been with the whole group, mostly stealing quick kisses when they thought no one was looking and getting teased by everyone who was delighted at this latest instance of ‘house-cest’.

Weekend nights had been spent cuddled up together in Spike’s bed, whispering little secrets to each other – although all of a more pleasant nature than their first ‘know what you’re getting into’ discussion. Weekdays were spent sprawled together on one of the couches in the lounge doing their homework together with the added incentive that once they were done, they got to go back to the kissing.

Spike had even invited her personally – as well as everyone in the house in general who was staying over break – to come have Thanksgiving dinner at his house in exchange for the small amounts of culinary labor Joyce asked of them in return.

All in all, they were fitting together absolutely perfectly as a couple – so perfectly that Elizabeth could hardly believe her luck.

But that didn’t mean they were quite ready to openly display their relationship before Spike’s mother yet. So, today had been full of casual touches and secret looks of longing. Elizabeth wasn’t complaining, though. The food had been delicious, they’d all mocked each other’s various culinary skills…or complete lack thereof, and Anya had ever had the commonsense not to mention the word ‘orgasm’ or ‘sex’ in association with Elizabeth and Spike in front of Joyce once. “I have tact,” she’d teased. “I just usually choose not to use it.”

However, as Elizabeth sat beside Spike now, the lazy effects of too much turkey slowly overtaking her and making her feel all warm and comfortable, she slowly let her head tilt to the side, coming to rest on Spike’s shoulder.

Joyce, for her part, didn’t even blink.

“We didn’t miss them doing any burly, did we?” Anya asked, reluctantly moving her feet so that Oz could sit at the other end of the couch.

“Very burly,” Oz managed in a perfect monotone. “Manly stuff. Words like ‘carburetor’ and ‘axle grease’ came up.”

Everyone present knew Oz well enough to catch the almost non-existent sarcastic tone in his voice and laughed.

“Just a little problem with the garage door,” Joyce insisted. “I could fix it myself, but I figured I’d take advantage of the fact that no man in the history of the world has ever been able to resist playing with tools while I actually had some men around.”

“It’s true,” Oz agreed solemnly.

Spike merely smirked and rolled his eyes, a little surprised by the small blond head that still rested on his shoulder. He’d thought she wasn’t quite ready to face The Wrath Of MOM, but since she seemed to be unconcerned… He let his arm slip around her shoulders, holding her lightly against him.

“That was sooo good!” Willow announced for about the thousandth time, still leaning back and patting her stomach. “Thank you so much, Joyce. ‘Cause it was kinda this or dinning hall food for Thanksgiving…”

All the students shuddered in unison.

“Oh, you poor things,” Joyce teased lightly. “They still feeding you moldy bread and dirty water?”

Elizabeth laughed. The one thing Spike and his mother seemed to share above all else was their quirky sense of humor. “At least mold has the basic nutrients necessary for survival,” she joked right back.

“Well, I hope the rest of your friends back at the dorm got away for some good food, too,” Joyce said, concerned. “Did they all go home?”

Willow nodded. “Jonathan and Devon did, at least,” she agreed.

“Still can’t believe Devon actually went home,” Oz blinked a couple of times. “Wow.”

“He’s that nice young man that’s in your band, right?” Joyce inquired, taking a sip of hot cocoa. “He was here last year.”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, “but I guess he just wanted to get away from this place for a while…”

Elizabeth flinched inwardly. The Devon/Faith break-up had become a rather permanent situation, she had discovered. Spike had had a better ear to the ground concerning the goings on of the couple, and apparently that weekend when the two of them had first kissed marked the end of the end for Devon and Faith. Elizabeth hadn’t even found it odd that the time that Faith had caught the two of them in the hall; she’d been too absorbed in a certain delicious peroxide blond to remember that Faith was supposed to be on the road with Devon and the rest of his band. It turned out that not only had Faith opted out of the ‘make-up’ trip, but she’d also acquired new male company in the interval. Devon had been pretty broken up about it…

As if reading her thoughts, Spike’s arms tightened around her shoulder in a comforting way, letting her know that he would hold on to this thing they had between them no matter what.

She looked up at him with a soft smile before returning to rest against his shoulder. Lazily, her fingers began to draw little patterns on his thigh, and he responded to her cryptic messages with his own ciphers, written against the cotton of her sweater.

“Who is this Jonathan?” Joyce asked curiously, surprised that she didn’t recognize a name. Spike tended to talk on and on about the people in the dorm to the point where Joyce was already convinced she knew them by the time they finally met.

“Freshman,” Willow answered. “Really quiet. Keeps to himself mostly.”

“You’re looking after him, aren’t you, dear?” Joyce frowned in a slightly maternal way, casting a quick glance in Spike’s direction. “Sometimes the loners are a lot more miserable than they let on…”

Elizabeth smiled inwardly. One of their late night confession sessions had provided her with the missing information to fully explain Joyce’s particular concern. She still couldn’t picture Spike as the quiet, bookish, and hopelessly socially inept youth from all his middle school stories, even though he still brought out the wire-rims for reading.

“I’m doing the best I can,” Willow asked. “But he never seems to want to go on any of our house trips, so…” She shrugged. “I’ll just keep asking, so the opportunity’s open if he wants to take it.”

“Knew you’d make the perfect RA,” Joyce agreed with a little smile. “Where’s Xander?” she asked, casting a glance in Anya’s direction. Her son had made it quite apparent that he had high hopes that Xander and Anya would eventually get together. Given the way Anya’s attention instantly turned from her magazine to the conversation, Joyce decided they at least had a shot.

“He’s back home eating dinner with his other friends,” Anya half-pouted. “Like, friends who aren’t us.”

“I’m surprised he went home,” Elizabeth agreed. “Although at least he’s not staying with his parents…”

Several winces passed through the crowd. To greater or lesser degrees, they’d all heard enough to figure out just how not nice growing up in the Harris home must have been.

“It’s good that he has friends to go back to, at least,” Joyce decided.

“While we’re at it,” Anya began, somewhat curiously, “what ever happened to Faith? I thought she was staying in town.”

Willow’s brow furrowed slightly, and Oz blinked rapidly a few times. “I’m pretty sure she’s still here,” Willow agreed, “but… I guess she’s hanging out with those rave friends of hers since she hasn’t been in the dorm all week…” She trailed off and studied to bottom of her mug intently. Faith had been worrying Willow more and more lately with her callous attitude towards academics and her even more callous one towards certain dangerous substances and the people that accompanied them.

Joyce seemed to sense the concern over the topic at hand and stood up with the polite smile of a good hostess. “Anyone want more hot chocolate?” she offered.

Five empty mugs were raised into the air in response, and Joyce laughed before returning to the kitchen.

“Having a good time, luv?” Spike whispered in Elizabeth’s ear, giving her golden hair a quick kiss now that the parental authority was gone.

“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured contently, snuggling closer into his embrace.

“I’ve gotta admit,” Anya commented with a sly little grin, “I didn’t think the two of you had it in you to keep it this PG for so long.”

Spike cast her an annoyed look. “Yeah, ‘cause you can’t keep it suitable for minors and parents even though you’re not gettin’ any,” he taunted.

“Humph,” Anya sulked. “No need to rub it in.” She quickly turned back to her magazine, only pausing briefly to stick her tongue out at Spike.

He returned the gesture only to have Elizabeth catch the tip of his tongue with her index finger before pushing it back into his mouth. He gave her a curious look.

“Don’t like to share your tongue’s talents,” she teased with a little smile, blushing slightly at her memories of last night. After much hinting, Spike had finally discovered that he was allowed to cross certain barriers that he had thought unbreachable…and, oh, did his tongue thank her for the latest invitation…

“William!” Joyce’s voice abruptly called from the kitchen.

Both Spike and Willow started to attention before Willow caught the tail end of the name. She shrugged at Spike sheepishly; she just wasn’t used to thinking that his name started with ‘Will’ as well. Several confusions had already occurred that evening.

“Yeah, mum?” Spike called out, not wanting to get up from his comfy position snuggled against Elizabeth.

“Have you looked outside lately?” There was a smile in Joyce’s voice.

Spike’s brow furrowed slightly, and he mouthed ‘outside?’ to the room. Anya merely shrugged in response and got up to pull one of the closed drapes aside so that she could see out.

“Ooh!” she immediately exclaimed in delight. “It’s snowing!”

“Really?” Elizabeth’s curiously was piqued, and in an instant she’d escaped Spike’s clutches and was at Anya’s side. Her eyes widened at the soft blanket of white that had managed to cover everything in just the last couple of hours. Silvery flakes still swirled to the ground in eddies, glistening in the soft orange glow of the streetlights. “Wow…” she said breathlessly.

Spike chuckled behind her, slipping his arms casually around her waist and watching the sight over her shoulder. “California girl likes it, I take?” he teased lightly.

“It’s gorgeous,” she agreed, turning back to look at him.

“Humph,” he mock-pouted, “you used to say that ‘bout me. Should I be jealous?”

She gave him a playful bat on the arm, her eyes trained on the winter landscape outside. “I didn’t think it would snow this early,” she commented in delight.

“ ‘Early’?” Spike repeated incredulously. “This is actually pretty late. Usually ‘ave at least had flurries by now…”

Oz nodded solemnly. “Looks like pretty wet snow,” he commented. “You know what that means we have to do…”

Elizabeth gave him a puzzled look.

“Snowball fight!” Willow squealed in delight, dashing over to the coat hanger and snatching up her jacket.

“You’d think she’d be less enthusiastic given how badly she always loses,” Anya teased, grabbing her own coat as well and slipping into it.

“I’ll have you know that I fully intend to actually hit someone this year,” Willow challenged, “and I’ve decided it’ll be you!”

Anya gave her an incredulous look. “In your dreams,” she taunted right back. “That’s some death wish you’ve got there…or, at least, a permanently-frozen-and-wet wish…”

“Don’t mess with the girl who lived through Russian winters,” Oz sagely advised Elizabeth before putting on his own jacket.

“C’mon, luv, it’ll be fun,” Spike whispered in her ear.

“You’re just saying that so you can turn on me the minute we get outside,” she accused.

He flashed her a ‘duh’ _expression. “Well…yeah…”

She gave him a wry smile in response. “That skinny, white behind of yours is mine,” she boasted.

“Well, there’s no denyin’ that…” he found the opportunity just too good to pass up.

She swatted at him absentmindedly before putting on her own jacket. And hat. And scarf. And gloves. Hey, she’d learned her lesson fast.

Spike persistently insisted on just a jacket and gloves, although he left his black leather duster behind – no sense in drenching such a fine garment, after all, and he had no doubts that Elizabeth would be merciless. Hell, it was one of the things that first drew him to her.

“Ground rules?” he asked as they stepped out into the snow.

“No holds barred,” Anya announced with glee. Casually bending over and scooping up the first handful of snow. “Hey, Elizabeth?” she said with a wry grin.

“Yeah?” Elizabeth asked warily.

“Welcome to New York winters!”

And before Elizabeth even knew what had happened, a white, cold explosion hit her squarely in the chest. But it was still new enough that all she did was giggle in response.

Spike, however, let out a war-whoop at the slight to his lady’s honor and chased off after Anya, snatching up a handful of snow as he did so.

Willow chuckled, only to be the first victim to Oz’s silent attacks, and soon she was trudging through the snow, trying to catch up to him while he ducked behind various trees, evading all of Willow’s ill-timed attacks.

Elizabeth laughed and stuck to Willow’s back, deciding that the two of them, both uninitiated in the art of the snowball fight, should stick together. The tag-team effort of Willow chasing Oz around and throwing snowballs wildly while Elizabeth lurked in waiting finally got Elizabeth her first it, squarely on Oz’s thigh as he unknowingly ran past her position.

“Ha!” Elizabeth exclaimed in delight. “No one can defeat the combined might of Elizabeth and Will—”

Her boasting was cut off when a snowball nailed her right in the back. She turned wide-eyed to face Willow’s triumphant grin. “All’s fair in love and snowball fights,” Willow simply shrugged.

“Traitor!” Elizabeth exclaimed in mock-outrage, throwing a misshapen lump of white at her former ally.

Willow laughed and ducked, although not fast enough.

Oz barraged her at the same time and quickly announced “Change of alliance!” as he and Elizabeth continued to chase the squealing Willow around the yard, all of them sliding like mad over the slippery traction of snow.

Anya and Spike, however, had no such difficulties. Both had become masters of the snowball fight during many blizzard-filled childhood winters, and they chased each other with a speed and grace that belied that the ground was a slippery hazard.

Perfectly rounded and weighted snowballs were formed at a moment’s notice, their ducks to acquire new ammunition not breaking either of their strides even once. Deadly accuracy accompanied each throw, followed quickly by a brilliant series of ducks and dodges.

Spike laughed and dove into a snowdrift when Anya seemingly turned on a dime, releasing half a dozen snowballs in such quick succession that he didn’t even have time to duck them all. Three hit him squarely in the chest as his rose up to his knees, shaking the snow that his head had dove into from his equally white hair.

“Amateur,” Anya taunted, another snowball at the ready.

He looked up at her with a little growl only to get hit right over the heart once more. “You are so dead!” he announced with a little pounce.

Anya squealed when he caught her about the waist and then began squirming to get away once she realized where he was carrying her. “I swear I’ll sue!” she laughed, still struggling to escape. “This counts as assault, and…and property damage!” She gestured to her soaked jacket.

“Nice try,” he gave her an evil little grin before grabbing the branch above them all pulling it slowly downwards before letting it snap back up.

The several inches of snow that had accumulated on the branch instantly flew up into the air only to land right on Anya’s head.

“Bastard!” she sulked when he finally let her go. She shook her head to get rid of the excess snow. And then a conspiratorial little smile lit up her face. “You’re a bad boyfriend, you know,” she commented, watching the three combatants across the yard.

Spike turned to look at them curiously. Oz and Elizabeth had managed to maintain their alliance and were brutally assaulting Willow as she held up her mittened hands and laughed, trying to bat the barrage of snowballs away. “Looks like she’s doin’ all right,” he countered, turning back to Anya.

With a malicious glint in her eye, Anya tossed her latest snowball from one hand to the other. “Look at her,” she countered. “She’s nowhere near as wet as she could be.” She frowned for a second. “And, amazingly, I didn’t mean that in the sexual way for once. Huh. Who would’ve thought?”

“You’re sayin’ we should show the newbees what a real snowball fight’s about?” Spike’s own grin turned several shades more wicked.

“I believe a certain redhead issued a challenge,” Anya agreed as the two of them moved to sneak up on the unsuspecting trio…

“Elizabeth, help!” Willow cried out amidst her laughter.

“You made your bed,” Elizabeth teased, “now you have to lie in it…”

Willow looked like she was about to say something, but then her eyes suddenly widened and she put one hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

“What?” Elizabeth asked, perplexed.

The answer came in the form of icy cold at the back of her neck. She squealed in response and batted helplessly at the snow that Spike had just dropped under the collar of her jacket.

“You!” she exclaimed, wide-eyed, before she noticed the snowball that was still in her hand and used it to her full abilities.

Spike leapt gracefully to the side, avoiding the hit. “If I make my own bed,” he teased, “will you lie in it with me?”

“Oh, you cocky, arrogant asshole!” she said with a smile on her face to indicate that the words didn’t mean anything. “You are sooo going down!”

“Gotta catch me first,” he retorted, tongue curled up beneath his teeth in that overly-confident way that just made her want to kiss him breathless.

He dashed away right after this challenge, and she chased after him, noticing that he never bothered to get too far ahead of her and not really caring. He didn’t hesitate to hit her with snowballs, however, although he let her get in plenty of shots as well. Elizabeth could tell he was going easier on her than he had on Anya, but then again he kind of enjoyed it when she beat him, so she didn’t really mind.

However, after a particularly taunting move where he just kind of stood there less than ten feet away, one eyebrow raised curiously at her latest failed attempt to successfully hit him, she’d had enough.

He was caught completely off-guard when her unexpected leap caught him right around the middle, tackling him back into the soft blanket of snow. Before he even had a chance to recover, Elizabeth had grabbed up two heaping handfuls of snow and dropped them right on his head. He spurted and brushed the snow off while she laughed from her position straddling his waist.

“Evil vixen!” he teased, running his gloved hands over his hair a couple of times to make sure all the snow was gone.

“Gotcha!” she proclaimed proudly, her hands still pinning his chest back down to the ground.

He managed a grimace. “S’pose I can’t argue with that,” he conceded with a little chuckle.

Elizabeth looked down into his eyes, noticing how the dim street lamps made them look like black, molten pools. She was struck for a minute at how odd this was. The way the two of them laughed and joked and just had fun when they were together… She would never have guessed that they had shared such dark secrets, that they had such painful pasts… How was it even possible? She’d always thought relationships were necessarily caught up in pain and heartbreak, but not with Spike. It was odd, but it just felt so right…

Spike noticed her sudden contemplation and cocked his head to one side, looking up at her curiously.

“Just thinking,” she said softly. “I think this is the most fun I’ve had in…well, ever.” She leaned down over him, her lips inches from his. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said with a shy smile. “Thank you, William…”

He shut his eyes as her lips descended on his, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her to him. The cold of the winter evening bit at both of their faces except at the junction of their lips where an inferno had burst to life.

“Now, now,” Anya said from behind them, tisking lightly. Beside her, her two new partners in crime – Willow and Oz – had equally evil grins on their faces. “Making out with their backs open like that… They’re just asking to get snowed…”

* * *

It was less than an hour later that Elizabeth sat before the fire in Spike’s living room, warming herself by sitting in front of the fireplace…and by cuddling up to the man beside her. Joyce had provided spare baggy sweats for her, Willow, and Anya, and Oz borrowed some of Spike’s old things while their clothes tumbled in the dryer downstairs.

With a contented little murmur, Elizabeth sipped at her cocoa, still shivering slightly from the chill that had settled into her spine.

Joyce approached with the extra blankets she’d promised and slipped one over her son’s shoulders before further unfolding it to wrap around Elizabeth’s as well. She tucked the corners around their feet before giving her son a fond smile and ruffling his hair.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at Spike when his mother had left. Wrapping them both up in the same blanket together… Tacit approval of their obvious item-ness?

He merely shrugged and held her closer to him.

She relaxed into the warm circle of his arms, a sleepy yawn slipping out. And she realized something then. She had never felt as warm, content, comfortable, cared for, and…loved? She could hear Spike’s heart beating beneath his breast, but not even she could decipher something as intangible as that last emotion from the regular thump, thump.

It didn’t matter, though, she decided with another yawn – one that Spike echoed as well. Because never in her life had everything ever been so perfect…

In retrospect, she really should have seen this coming.

The signs had all been there. Ever since she had woken up that morning, they had been building. But she hadn’t seen them clearly, hadn’t realized until now…

Friday morning had started like pretty much every weekday morning had for the past three weeks. Elizabeth had awoken with a groan to the sound of her alarm clock. She’d developed the miraculous ability over the past few months to completely sleep through Willow’s early morning alarm, yet still wake up at her own. It was actually kind of impressive.

Sleepily, Elizabeth walked down to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and such before she turned on the shower spray. As she was waiting for the hot water to kick in, she ventured back out into the hallway, not even bothering to knock on Spike’s door before entering.

The numbers on his alarm clock indicated that he had hit the snooze button at least three times already, and he seemed to be utilizing the time to the best of his ability – buried under a mound of blankets, face stuffed into the pillow, snoozing just as contentedly as the big kitty-cat she teased that he was. She almost felt sorry for waking him. Almost.

“Hey, Spikey,” she ruffled his hair slightly, causing him to stir lightly beneath her touch. He didn’t get up at that, of course. Oh no, he had to be stubborn every morning.

“Spike, wake up!” She bit back a smile at the confused mumble that escaped his lips.

She decided it was time to start playing dirty and tugged at the corner of the blanket, yanking it from his desperate grasp and exposing him to the cold air of the outside world. “Time for class, ‘luv’!” she informed him with a quick swat to that tight little ass of his.

He grumbled and blinked up at her. “’d almost think you liked doin’ that,” he complained, running one hand through his tousled white curls as his yawned.

“Rise and shine!” she teased in a voice way too perky for this hour of the morning.

He practically fell out of bed, swearing under his breath the entire walk over to the bathroom. Elizabeth wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard something along the lines of “Got me a filthy sadist for a girlfriend,” in which case he was so going to pay later.

Elizabeth stepped into her nice, warm shower and giggled when Spike let out a little screech when the initially cold water hit him in the other stall. He’d been doing this, what? A whole year longer than her?

“Don’t tell me you still haven’t managed to realize the water always starts out cold?” she teased, soaping up her hair.

“’S about the only think that’ll wake me up in the mornin’,” he countered before rinsing the rapidly warming water through his hair.

“Speaking of which…” Elizabeth began. “Don’t you have a class before history?”

Spike shrugged even though she couldn’t see it through the two shower curtains that separated them. “Quite possibly,” he agreed.

Elizabeth groaned. “God, you are so hopeless!” she exclaimed in mild irritation. “You’re going to, like, flunk out, you know…”

“Attending class is not necessary for passin’,” he informed her defensively. “Tha’s just a lie they tell freshmen.”

“You would so have missed that pop-quiz on Monday if I hadn’t dragged your lazy ass to history,” she retorted with a victorious little smile.

“Humph.” He really couldn’t argue with that point. He flicked off the water and grabbed his towel from the hook, rubbing it a few times through his hair before moving to wrap it around his waist.

“Are you done already?” Elizabeth asked in disbelief when she heard the water in the other stall turn off. She’d just begun her second lather.

“Don’ know why bints think showers should take a whole bleedin’ hour,” he retorted sarcastically, getting out of the shower and moving over to the sink. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth while wiping away the steam from the mirror with a paper towel.

“It does not take an hour!” Elizabeth exclaimed in righteous indignation. “Fifteen minutes, tops!”

“You were twenty-three yesterday,” he pointed out.

“And twenty-three minutes equals an hour in what bizarre fantasy world?” she demanded.

“Half an hour, fine!” his tone was obviously annoyed by now.

“Twenty-three minutes equals a half an hour?” she shot right back.

The muscle in Spike’s jaw twitched in annoyance, and he spit the toothpaste into the sink. “’m gonna go get dressed,” he informed her curtly. “’ll meet you in the lounge before class.”

Elizabeth let out a weary sigh when she heard the bathroom door bang. Great. Just what she needed today – ultra-crabby Spike.

Her own annoyance practically radiating off of her in waves, she rinsed her hair a final time before wrapping her robe around her body and dashing back to her room…

Whatever edginess was between them, it carried over right into history class. Elizabeth was seriously debating jabbing her pencil straight through Spike’s eye if he didn’t stop that annoying fidgeting.

It had started with his foot kicking the chair in front of him. After several annoyed looks from the unfortunate student who occupied the aforementioned chair, Elizabeth had been forced to catch Spike’s leg with her own, physically preventing it from swinging again.

He’d proceeded to get tap-happy then. The sound of his sole of his boot creating some cryptic Morse Code message on the tile floor had driven her up the wall for about five minutes before she’d finally stomped her foot down on top of his, effectively silencing him…or his foot, at least.

Step three in Spike’s apparent Piss Elizabeth Off Royally plan consisted of jingling the silver bracelets he wore on one wrist. Frankly, she was still half-convinced that all the jewelry made him look gay – well, except the rings in his ears; she’d discovered that those were fun to play with. But the rest of it…

She just didn’t need to be reminded that her boyfriend wore more jewelry than she did. She slammed her hand down over his wrist as well, stopping the constant jangling.

He’d thrown her the world’s most pissed off look then, like she was the one who was being irritating…

Gah! Elizabeth was about to explode by the time history ended, and neither of them had really been paying much attention to the lecture.

He’d practically seized her arm when class was over and dragged her away from the quick ‘hi’ she’d said to Riley, pulling her out into the hallway with him.

“You goin’ to English?” he demanded, toying with an unlit cigarette.

“Of course I’m going to English!” she snapped. “Unlike some people, I actually go to class.” Her irritation was growing by the minute.

“Right then,” he said in a particularly sour tone. “Go on then. ‘m sure ‘ll see you later.” Placing the cigarette between his lips, he stomped off then. He’d lit it up even before he’d officially left the building, earning himself a couple of nasty looks and one snide comment. Snide comment got the two-fingered salute for his troubles.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. God, what was his problem?!

An hour later, she opened the door to Spike’s room with an angry bang. Of course, he had the nerve to not actually be there, so her dramatic entrance had been all for naught.

With a frustrated snort, she noticed that the bed had been stripped and the heaping pile of dirty clothes in the corner had been removed. That made it pretty apparent where he was, and she trudged all the way back down the three flights of stairs plus the additional one into the basement.

Sure enough, there he was in the laundry room, waiting in front of the dryers. He was wearing a pair of headphones that were turned up so loud that she could hear the deafening – and usually crude and offensive – punk lyrics through them…as well as through his own singing.

She hit the stop button on his Discman vehemently, stopping the splitting headache that just listening to his music secondhand gave her.

He started in surprise when the song abruptly stopped, and a scowl crossed his face when he saw that she was the cause. “Oi!” he complained. “Was listenin’ to that!”

“Were making yourself go deaf, you mean,” she informed him primly.

“Since when is that your business, Summers?” he retorted, practically ripping the headphones off of his ears and stuffing them back into his bag.

“You know, you’re right,” she countered sarcastically, getting right up into his face. “I’ll just stay out of your life from now on. Excuse me for caring!”

“Naggin’ is more like it,” he bit back, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer. “Everywhere I go today, everythin’ I do…” He abruptly trailed off when someone from the other house in Westing Hall entered the laundry room, laundry basket in hand.

Elizabeth stepped away from him in response, turning to leave. “I’m going to go make up my studio hours,” she informed him a bit bitterly. “Have a nice afternoon.”

He let out a sigh. “Summers, wait,” he pleaded, but she was already gone…

Not that it did her any good.

“’S nice.” Spike’s voice startled her from the world of her painting.

“Spike?” she hissed in disbelief. “What on earth are you doing here?!”

“’S an open studio,” he said defensively before turning back to look at her painting once more. “’S nice,” he repeated. “I like it.”

“Thanks,” she managed to say with a tight smile, continuing to mix the orange color she wanted on her palate.

“That’s the place you told me about, innit?” he asked in a hushed voice after her prolonged pause indicated that she was ignoring him. “Where your mother is?”

Elizabeth sighed and turned back to her painting. It was a landscape setting, a darkened outline of trees as seen from a small hill. The black cross-shape in the center to the hill was all too clearly a grave to those who were looking for it, and Spike most certainly knew enough to have correctly guessed what it was.

“Yeah,” she reluctantly agreed, breaking her forced silence.

“Is that you sitting by the grave?” Spike agreed, tilting his head to look at the painting more closely as he sat on the stool beside her. It was the black, backlit silhouette of a sitting human figure that had caught his attention.

“It is,” she admitted.

“I like the sunset,” he commented with strange calmness. “The colors… ‘S well done.”

“Thanks,” she said with a little smile this time. “I figured, my mom never gets to see the sunset the way her grave’s set up, so I could…y’know, paint it for her…” She trailed off, slightly embarrassed, of all things, and studiously began highlighting the edges of the cross.

“Nice…” he repeated, his voice sounding distant enough that it seemed like an echo of his earlier words.

“Spike, why are you here?” she asked in a voice more clipped than she’d meant it. “I thought you avoided your mom’s studio like the plague. Something about getting stuck doing menial labor?”

He ducked his head, scratching the hair at the back of his neck in a gesture that Elizabeth had long since learned indicated that he was uncomfortable. “Well, yeah, but…wanted to make sure we were still on for tonight was all…” he blurted out this last bit nervously.

“And it took you almost an hour to come ask?” She raised one perfectly-sculptured eyebrow.

“Well, I had to finish the laundry, and…”

“Nice to know laundry rates just above me,” she snorted derisively.

“And I was afraid you might say ‘no’, all right?” he finished angrily, his eyes flashing like the sun off of pale blue ice.

“It’s still ‘yes’,” she informed him calmly. “I still haven’t seen Oz and Devon play yet. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“All right then.” He paused. “You comin’ to practice today?” he demanded.

“I only need two more hours before I’m all caught up,” she pointed out.

He glanced at her painting. “Need to let that layer dry before you paint more, anyway,” he informed her as one whose mother had put a paintbrush in his hand prior to a pencil.

She couldn’t find any argument with that. “Fine,” she agreed before sighing. “That means I have to take another shower today, you realize?”

“So the Wiccans ‘ll get caught takin’ a cold shower tonight,” Spike shrugged disinterestedly. “Let’s go…”

Wesley winced as the blond pair fell to the mats together, hands and feet striking wildly at each other in a desperate attempt to gain advantage.

“I am quite sure that move is not legal,” Kendra flinched slightly, wide-eyed as she watched the scrambling pair.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen dirtier fighting tactics,” Wesley sighed before shouting at them to break it up.

Elizabeth and Spike cast each other furious glances, each blaming the other for their own failed attack.

“I think that’s quite enough for today,” Wesley announced in a slightly pinched voice. “Perhaps you two need some time with the punching bags…or something.”

“I have to leave anyway,” Elizabeth announced, snatching up her water bottle and practically draining it.

“Me, too,” Spike agreed, flashing daggers at her the whole time. “Later.” He stalked off towards the men’s locker room. Elizabeth made a similar exit into the women’s locker room only a few seconds after him.

“Am I sensing trouble in paradise?” Kendra asked with a slight frown.

Wesley sighed. “Damned if I know…”

By the time Elizabeth and Spike finally left the Blue Club, everyone was only too happy to see them go. Willow let out a little breath of relief, and Tara patted her hand encouragingly.

“Do you think we should go after them?” Xander asked, concerned. “’Cause I’m sensing a huge, combusting break-up slash double murder coming on…”

Elizabeth and Spike had been sending nasty clips back and forth the entire evening, their arguments oddly reminiscent of their relationship when they first met. They had argued about whether or not to dance, then had been arguing on the dance floor even as their bodies moved together, before moving back to the table and arguing some more. The building fury between the pair had been uncomfortable for everyone else who was misfortunate enough to get caught in the middle.

But Anya couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Xander’s comment. “You really don’t know anything about women, do you?” she asked wearily…

So, in summary, she really should’ve seen it coming. It had been building all day; it was only a matter of time before it exploded.

“What was that?!” Spike demanded, slamming the door to his room shut behind them.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Elizabeth retorted, giving him the patented ‘you’re an idiot for not being able to read my mind’ look.

“Yeah!” he demanded, scarred eyebrow raised at her defiantly. “Why don’t you?”

“God, you’re so—!” she exclaimed, her hands gesticulating wildly as she tried to come up with the right words.

“What?” he demanded, stepping right up into her personal space so that they were nose to nose.

Her face softened as everything suddenly became crystal clear to her. “Beautiful…” she whispered just before she caught him to her the way she’d been wanting to all day and pulled his lips down into a bruising kiss.

He moaned against her lips, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of her dress even as he staggered back to his bed. All the while, she plundered his mouth, savoring the sweet and tangy taste of Spike, the way he was rough and gentle at the same time, kind, infuriating, passionate…

“Want you,” she gasped, her lips pulling away from his for just a split-second.

He moaned in protest. “Want you, too,” he gasped before capturing her lips once more, falling back onto the bed…

Elizabeth ripped his burgundy shirt open, sending several white buttons scattering about the room as she did so. She rose up on her knees to hover over his chest, her tongue licking and tracing all the strong lines of his muscles.

“Cor, Elizabeth!” he gasped, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes rolling back in their sockets at the feel of her hot mouth upon him.

“Spike…” she whispered, her breath tingling the soft, pale skin right over his heart. Her lips proceeded to trail down to one hard, flat male nipple, taking it gently between her teeth and twisting.

His hips bucked up in response, his groin thrusting into hers. His erection was thick and hard at her actions, but he wasn’t embarrassed; they’d gotten rather used to that happening over the past couple of weeks, after all.

However, rather than pull back and give him time to calm down, she ground her own hips down into his hardness. A little hiss escaped her lips as the ridge of the seam over his zipper pressed hard against her most sensitive spots.

“Oh god…” she gasped at the first little twinges of pressure built inside of her. “Oh, oh god…”

“Christ, luv!” Spike gasped as the strain against his zipper became painful. “You’re killin’ me here…”

She gave him a seductive little smile and leaned in to kiss him…

He groaned into her mouth when her hot little hand found the bulge in his pants, cupping it gently through his jeans. “E-Elizabeth?” he inquired, pulling away from her kiss. He looked up into her eyes, lust and hope swirling through his own midnight blue orbs.

“Yeah,” she answered his unasked question, a slight blush rising in her cheeks.

“You’re sure?” His hands were gently cupping her ass now, pushing her little black miniskirt up as they explored her toned flesh.

In response, she merely reached down and slowly unfastened her zipper. The sound of the metal teeth unfastening and releasing sounded deafening in the small dorm room where the only other sound was the intense panting of the couple on the bed.

With a flick of her thumb the top button was unfastened, and she slowly reached in to pull him out. A contented feminine smile graced her lips at her first sight of him. She’d reached in to touch him a few times before, but the jeans had always remained perfectly fastened. Not tonight, though…

“I need…” she whispered huskily, looking down deep into the dilated ebony of his eyes.

“Shh,” he whispered softly, sitting up beneath her so that she rested in his lap. His fingers gently tangled in her long, gold hair, holding her firmly to him as he covered her face in soft kisses.

She felt him slowly continue to push her dress upwards, his hands rubbing little circles into her heated flesh as it was further exposed. She returned the favor, her hands gliding up his shoulders right under the soft cotton of his shirt. It fell back down to his elbows under her guidance, and she carefully began to stroke and trace the muscles of his chest.

She couldn’t help but agree with her earlier assessment now; he was so, so beautiful…albeit, in an entirely masculine way. She’d never thought that a man could be beautiful before, but Spike’s body was like a Greek statue come to life. Lean, tight muscles created sharp angles and soft curves. His body was hard, strong, perfect…and yet it quivered beneath her hands at the same time. Soft, delicate skin of the palest alabaster shined silver in the moonlight that peeked in through the blinds.

As she watched, he pulled back just enough to slip his shirt off his arms, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. He looked up at where she sat atop him then, wonder and awe reflected in those expressive eyes…

With a sly smile, she slowly, languorously pulled off the dress that had become bunched at her waist. She let her body stretch and flow under the black silk as it slid up and off her body.

The _expression in his eyes when she finally rested atop him in only two scraps of silk made the breath catch in her throat. Just by looking into his face, she knew at that moment that she was the most beautiful, sexy woman in the world. Nothing else could account for the look of pure worship in his eyes.

“Cor, luv,” he whispered softly, his hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. “You’re so perfect, luv. So beautiful… I knew the moment I first saw you…”

He seemed to get slightly choked up at this point – surprising given his general verbosity. She kissed his brow gently in response.

“I did, too,” she admitted softly. “Was too dumb to admit it, but…”

He sighed against her shoulder before carefully lifting her up in his arms and twisting so that she now lay on the bed beneath him.

“I’ve wanted you for so long…” His voice sounded ragged, like he was trying to restrain a tidal wave of emotions.

“Show me,” she requested, an excited glint in her eye.

He let out a playful little growl at that and dove for her throat.

She giggled and then moaned at the feel of his lips trailing down her body. He placed a little bite on her throat, just over her pounding pulse-point, before his tongue trailed down the golden column of her throat. His lips ran up and down each collarbone in kisses so light they felt like the soft brush of butterfly wings. He slipped the narrow straps of her bra over her shoulders as they got in his way, and her fingers tangled in his silky platinum locks, urging him to continue.

Her lower body began aching for further contact so her foot slid up his calf, passing over the area where his jeans had bunched around his knees as he rose above her. She finally found the smooth muscles of the backs of his thighs and continued to glide upward, savoring her first feels of that tight, sexy butt of his. Her foot finally completed its journey at the small of his back, and she pushed gently, pressing his lower body down into hers, feeling his naked hardness against her inner thigh as she spread her legs beneath him…

“Mmm,” he murmured against the silk of her bra. “You know,” he looked up at her softly with a hint of his usual cheeky grin, “red’s my favorite color…”

“Why do you think I wore them?” she replied with a sly little smile as she realized that it was true. There was no way she’d just by chance chosen to wear her skimpiest, sexiest underwear that day. On some fundamental level she’d known this was what she wanted, even if her conscious mind hadn’t realized it until just now.

With a little chuckle, he pushed her bra aside, nimble fingers unfastening the clasp. She cried aloud at the first feel of his mouth encompassing her supple mound, his tongue swirling insistently over the needy flesh, caressing it, loving it…

Her head lolled back onto the pillow, and her hips bucked desperately in response. She felt Spike’s erection quiver against her thigh and realized that she couldn’t take much more of this…

“Luv,” Spike looked down at her apologetically, “I can’t take much more…”

She gave him a little smile. “Great minds think alike.” She reluctantly released her holds on his platinum locks and strong, muscular back in order to fully slip out of her bra.

He kicked his jeans off at the same time, but halted her when she attempted to slip off her panties on her own. Eyes never leaving hers, he brushed her hands aside before slipping his thumbs beneath the elastic waist of the thong and slowly sliding them down her long legs.

She gulped at the unbearable wetness between her thighs. She felt as though there was a dull ache deep inside her, an emptiness and hunger that only he could sate…

“You’re a goddess,” he whispered softly, once her entire body lay bare before him. “My fiery goddess…”

She pulled him down to her, showering him with kisses, guiding his hands over her body as she explored his, her needy center rubbing persistently against his erection, begging him to enter her…

“Spike?” she practically whimpered when he pulled away. She bit her lip at the pleading tone in her voice. “Now?”

“Now,” he agreed, shuffling around in the drawer beside his bed and triumphantly producing a square wrapper from the box inside.

“Hoping to get lucky?” she couldn’t help but tease as he unwrapped the condom.

He looked down at her with an evil little glint in his eyes. “Luck has nothin’ to do with it, ’s just my inherent irresistibility,” he countered, moving to roll the rubber on.

This time she halted him, giving him a shy smile before slowly rolling the protective covering down his length, stroking him to become even harder as she did so.

They met for a kiss when she was done, and Spike gently guided her back down to the mattress beneath him. His hand slipped between her thighs, testing the wetness he found there and stretching her before using her juices to slick himself up.

“My luv,” he whispered softly, looking straight down into her eyes as he slowly began to enter her.

She hissed slightly at first, feeling her muscles relax and give in slowly to his girth, stretching and expanding. She clutched his forearms tightly, holding on as he buried himself deep inside her.

Spike’s eyes rolled back at the raging inferno that suddenly surrounded him, and it was all he could do to keep things slow, let her adjust… But, cor, she fit him just like a glove!

“Oh god!” Elizabeth gasped when he was finally sheathed inside her. She’d never had a man fill her this completely before. It fell like too much, but so good at the same time.

“Shh, I got you, luv,” Spike’s voice lowered to a husky whisper as he began pumping in and out of her with agonizing slowness. “That feel all right, luv?” he asked softly.

“G-G-Good!” she barely managed to cry out at the incredible sensations passing through her. “More!”

With a little grin, he picked up the strength of his thrusts, using those taut muscles she admired so to piston himself deep within her. He lowered himself onto one elbow so that he could pepper kisses over her face while his free hand softly kneaded her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple in sharp little counterpoint to the movement of his hips.

Little gasping mewls began to escape her lips at the feel of him so completely inside of her. She felt like her body was aflame, like something was building within her, powerful, primal, right where the two of them were joined together…

“Yesss…” she rasped, hands returning to his body, holding him to her, caressing him. Her hips were thrusting upwards in time with his own now, increasing the power of their union, causing brighter sparks to fly between them with each renewed penetration.

“Cor, luv, pet, sweetheart,” he was babbling against her heated flesh with every thrust now. “You feel so good, so beautiful… Never felt anythin’ like this before…”

Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper, stronger. She gasped, eyes wide, as the tip of his cock struck the entrance to her womb for the first time.

“Oh god!” she cried out. “Never knew…*gasp*…it could be…*moan*…so…deep…”

He ground into her harder at this admission, his face buried in her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut tight as he fought to bring her greater pleasure. He twirled his hips lightly upon entry now, slanting in at a new angle every time, desperately seeking…

“Spike?” Her voice sounded raw, astonished, amazed.

“I got you, luv,” he whispered softly against her ear, the only other sound in the room the slapping of their sweaty bodies as they thrust together.

“Spike!” she screamed to the heavens as his repeated hits to that one spot deep inside her finally sent her over the edge. Her vision seemed to be swimming around her, her body exploding into a wondrous world of sensation and pleasure.

She clutched him roughly to her as the world melted around her and there was only him left, him and the pleasure he brought her.

“’Liz’beth!” His roar echoed through the walls when the spasms of her inner muscles finally enveloped him fully in pleasure, ecstasy beyond anything he had believed possible. He continued to thrust within her, milking this moment for everything it was worth…

And then they crashed back down to the bed together, and there was a moment of complete silence where they just lay there, astounded by the power of the experience they’d just shared.

Spike was the first to stir, mumbling softly about how beautiful and wonderful she was as he slowly pulled out of her.

She whimpered slightly in protest when he left her, blinking up in lazy contentment and watching as he disposed of the condom in the trashcan before wiping himself thoroughly clean. She gave him a soft smile when he sat down on the bed beside her and carefully parted her legs, cleaning her inner thighs as well.

A little giggle escaped her lips then, and he looked at her curiously.

“There’s no way the entire house didn’t hear that,” she informed him, still laughing behind her hand.

“They’re prob’ly still out,” he hoped, throwing the sticky towel into a corner.

“Hmm,” she agreed, her face practically glowing from the climax she’d just experienced, “come back to bed…” She wiggled over to the edge so that he could take his usual place between her and the wall.

He gladly slid under the covers beside her, draping his sated body over hers as they lay side by side, looking deep into each other’s eyes.

“You were amazing,” he whispered softly, brushing one sweat-soaked strand of hair back from her forehead. “You are amazing, luv…”

She gave him a shy little smile. She’d kind of got the impression in the past that sex consisted of a guy grunting on top of you until he was satisfied and then he fell asleep. As clichéd as it sounded, she hadn’t been quite convinced that orgasms and g-spots had really existed. And she certainly hadn’t believed that guys wanted sweet pillow-talk afterwards. Spike was shaking her world that night, in more ways than one…

“That was…yeah,” she blushed, not quite sure what to say, “great…”

“Just ‘great’?” Spike teased lightly, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead nonetheless.

“Really great?” she teased back, reaching out to touch him lightly, stroking sweat-slicked muscles that shone even brighter in the moonlight when wet.

With a satisfied little murmur, he pulled her against him, moving their bodies so that he lay on his back with her body sprawled atop his, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her golden hair fanned out across his bare chest.

“It’s never been like that for me before,” she finally admitted softly, her fingers still caressing his smooth skin. “I’ve never…” she blushed and then blushed again at how stupid it was that she was still blushing after what they’d just done.

She giggled slightly at the ridiculousness of the notion. Spike raised his eyebrow, and she explained the joke to him, making him chuckle as well.

She smiled and snuggled into him, amazed at the easy playfulness that had taken them over now. That was another thing that was different; her other experiences hadn’t had the same aspect of comfort.

“Is it because they were just boys, and you’re a man?” she wondered aloud. “Or maybe,” she added shyly, “it was just because it was you…”

He gave her a truly delighted smile in response to that. “Think that’s the best thing anyone’s ever said to me, luv,” he whispered into her hair.

“Mmm,” she nodded with a sleepy yawn, “and you managed to put my worst fears to ease as well…”

“Oh?” he raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“You didn’t play bad punk music,” she teased, “you didn’t call me ‘Summers’ when you came…”

He chuckled and pulled her closer against him, letting his own eyes drift closed as sleep fell upon him as well.

“And you’ll still be here when I wake up…” she finished.

“’ll still be here,” he promised softly.

But she had already fallen asleep, the tension that had built within her finally released, safe and comforted and realizing in her dream-world that the definition of ‘perfect’ she’d known last week had been wrong. The true meaning of the word had been tonight…

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