Chapter One: Encounters

The night was cold and still. Buffy Summers pulled her coat closer about her neck and shivered. It had been a slow night. She'd only fought three vampires and it was already after two. Giles had left hours ago. He'd told her to do the same, but she couldn't leave yet. She didn't actually think there was evil afoot; she just didn't want to go home yet. She needed this time to think. A lot had happened since she'd re-entered the realm of the living. She felt different. Actually, she didn't feel anything at all. She put on a happy face around her friends, but inside she was empty. It wasn't that she was ungrateful. On some level she was glad they had brought her back. Mostly she was afraid. They had taken her out of the most purely blissful place one could imagine. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to get back there.

A noise off to her left distracted her from her thoughts. She turned in the direction it had come from and dropped into a fighting stance. She was getting restless and just itching for a good fight. Out of the shadows a thorny head appeared. Buffy didn't wait a second longer. The creature was identified as non-human and she charged.

She knocked it down by ramming into it full-force. It lay there only a second before she reached down and hauled it to its feet with one arm, then slammed her fist into its jaw. She heard the bones crack and gave herself a mental pat on the back. The demon staggered backward, one cloven hand to its face. It tried in vain to snap the broken bones back in place, but soon became exasperated and came at her swinging. It aimed a right hook at her head, but she blocked it and spun about. Her left leg flew out to sweep her enemy off its feet. As it landed on the ground, Buffy grasped its neck and yanked as hard as she could. The demon's head snapped loudly and then rested on the ground at an odd angle.

Buffy stepped back and admired her work. She was a bit sated now; some of the edge had been taken off her irritation. Still, she wasn't tired enough to go back home. It wasn't as if there was someone waiting for her anyway. Willow was home with Dawn so there was no need for her to rush back and make sure her little sister was okay.

She continued through the cemetery as her thoughts wandered yet again to a much disliked blond vampire. For some reason he had been able to sense that she was unhappy. He had made it obvious before she died how he thought he felt about her. He had tried to make her understand. She didn't want to believe it was true. She *couldn't* believe it was true. There was just no way that a vampire, such as Spike, with no soul could feel anything real. Yet she had to wonder why he would make it up.

Whether he was actually in love with her or not, somehow he had been able to pick up on her detached thoughts. He had seemed generally concerned when he asked her to talk about it. Maybe that was why she'd ended up spilling to him. That or the fact that, since he too was dead, he could understand what it was like to feel nothing inside. Either way, she had told him about her trip to Heaven, and her expulsion from it. He had listened intently, and when she was done he swore he would never tell her friends what she had confided in him. And she trusted him. That was what scared her the most.

Her head snapped up and her eyes grew wide. She was standing in front of his crypt. How had she gotten here? Apparently her mind had a will of its own. She pushed against the heavy metal door and it creaked open. She shook her head in disbelief. Okay, so her hands had a will of their own too. She stepped into the crypt and looked about her. She hadn't been here often, but everything looked the same. The floor was littered with clothes and other odd things, and the table was completely covered with liquor bottles.

"Oi! You don't just walk into people's homes uninvited! What'd you think you're..." Spike trailed off as he recognized the Slayer at his door. "Buffy? Something wrong, luv?" He came forward as she stepped further into the crypt and shut the door behind her.

She shook her head, unable to find words to explain what she was doing here.

Spike raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't just drop by to say hello, pet. What's going on?"

"I...I was out patrolling and I figured I'd stop by and...and ask for your help."

He grinned at her flimsy lie. "Pretty poor excuse to come see me, luv," he purred and brushed his hand down her arm.

Buffy pulled away and scowled at him. "I *was* out patrolling," she insisted.

"And the other part?"

She sighed. "All right, so I didn't come by to ask for your help." She shot him a menacing glare as she caught his smirk. Her eyes lowered to the floor and her voice softened as she said, more to herself than to him, "I don't know how I got here. I was thinking about what you said to me...I guess my legs just moved where my mind was headed."

"Right then," Spike said, a little shocked by her reply. He hadn't expected her to say she'd been thinking about him. He wasn't usually a topic on her mind. "Want a drink?"

His voice jostled her back to awareness. "What?"

"Do you want a drink?"

Buffy appeared confused by his question. "Oh...no, thank you."

"Right, well *I* need one. Make yourself at home," he said and moved to the table. He sorted through the bottles, trying to find one that was full. When he had succeeded, he looked up to find Buffy seated in his favorite arm chair. He came to stand in front of her and looked down at her with a quizzical expression.

She smiled up at him. "You told me to make myself at home."

He smiled back. "So I did." He took a sip of the alcohol, then crossed his arms and asked, "Why are you here, Buffy?"

She seemed surprised, but it quickly turned to embarrassment. She looked down at the floor and rocked back and forth in the chair. "I told you, I don't know. I was out patrolling, you know, just walking around the cemetery. I started to think about what you told me. The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of your crypt."

He had expected her story to change, but since it hadn't, he had to believe she was telling the truth. "Right then." He took another sip from the bottle and then set it down on the table beside her. He crouched down and studied her face for a moment before saying, "Still don't believe me, do you, luv?"

Buffy chanced a look into his eyes. It was a mistake. She felt as if she were drowning in the deepest ocean. They held her spellbound and pleaded with her to believe what he said. She almost wanted to. She closed her eyes instead. "Spike, let's not talk about that."

In the back of his mind, Spike knew he had just reached her for a second. But she was more concerned with current affairs, so he let it go. "Something else you want to talk about?"

She paused and tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind, so she gave up and reminded herself that she shouldn't even *be* here. "No. I really should get going though." She stood up and headed toward the door.

Spike got up and gently grabbed hold of her arm. He felt her tense slightly but ignored it. "Wait. It's early yet. Stay for awhile."

Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. "Early? Normally I would say it's early for you, you being a vampire and all, but the sun's almost up. More of a late kind of thing I'd say."

"Just stay until the sun comes up. Then I'll be stuck here and you can go on home. 'S only a few more hours, pet." He was getting desperate and he didn't like it, but he really didn't want her to go. She had come to see him of her own free will, without seeking help on some nasty. It had to mean something. If he could just keep her here for a while longer maybe he could figure out what that something was.

She turned back to him to say that she needed to get some sleep, but damn those eyes! They were definitely begging her this time; all big and sad looking. She suddenly realized that his hand was still on her arm. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh as she felt his cool skin on her own. The contact was like a block of ice on hot black asphalt. She could almost hear the sizzling, and could *definitely* feel the melting of her resolve; not to mention her body. Unconsciously she had relaxed her arm and moved a step closer to him.

He felt her skin shiver beneath his touch and the muscles go slack in her arm. Her skin was like fire, heating the pads of his fingers where they gently gripped her flesh. As she shifted closer to him he felt a strong urge to pull her fully to him, but held it in check. He didn't want to frighten her. "So?" He breathed softly, his cerulean eyes locked on her hazel ones.

"Till the sun comes up," she replied in a faraway voice. Spike's thumb rubbed slowly up her arm and then back down, cooling her hot skin. She closed her eyes and sighed at the sensation, moving slightly closer to him again.

Her searing flesh was doing a number on Spike's self-control. He could feel the warmth creeping slowly through his fingers to his hand, and then spreading outward to his arm. As her eyes slid closed, he took a few steps closer to her and breathed in the soft feminine aroma of her skin and hair. His other hand cautiously traced a path up her other arm. Gently he pulled her to face him.

Buffy could feel the sudden jolt of his other hand as it glided up her arm. She shivered but didn't protest, even as he moved her to face him. Her eyes were still closed, but she could feel his burning into her. Languidly she opened them and stared into his finely carved face.

"Buffy," he whispered, his unneeded breath stirring strands of her hair. His unbeating heart was pounding blood in his ears, nearly drowning out her voice.

"Spike," she murmured as she nearly collapsed against him. Her mouth found his in a kiss that bruised her lips. Her arms slid around his neck as her tongue slipped inside his mouth to play tag with his.

Spike's head was reeling. He had the Slayer in his arms, and she was kissing him! He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her to him. He could feel her heartbeat thudding against his chest, and knew if his heart could beat it would be pounding in time with hers.

Buffy's mind had completely deserted her. She was acting on feeling alone and was amazed that she could actually feel *something*. In fact, she could feel a lot. Spike was making her feel. This was insane, but it felt so right.

As she was pulled against him, she rose on her tiptoes and deepened the kiss. Her hands unwound from around his neck and roamed free across the expanse of his back. It wasn't enough. She needed skin-on-skin contact and pulled his black shirt free from his pants. One hand slid over the cold, hard muscles of his back while the other held his shirt up.

The heat of her hand on his back caused Spike to jump. He had never expected the Slayer to willingly fall into his arms. Yet here she was, kissing him with a fevered passion and gliding her hand over his back. He was so afraid that this was a dream. He knew any minute now he'd wake up and he'd be alone in his bed. But that minute never came.

As she continued to kiss him, Buffy reveled in all the feelings that came to her. She suddenly felt so alive. Her other hand was getting impatient; wanting to feel the rippling muscles of Spike's back. She broke the kiss for a second and yanked the shirt over his head. Both her hands immediately went to the bare skin, and she smiled at how good he felt.

Spike watched her with amazement. When she had first arrived there had been a dull, glossy look to her eyes. Now, as he stared into them, he could see a vibrant fire burning in their depths. She had broken the kiss, but it didn't really matter. She was still in his arms, and it appeared that she wasn't going anywhere. His heart swelled.

She was losing herself in his eyes again. She didn't mind so much this time, however. It gave her a chance to see what he was feeling. Part of her was scared by what she saw. She could clearly see that he loved her; that he was *in* love with her. To have him care so much about her was not something she was ready to deal with yet. But then there was that other part of her. The part that said "To hell with everything. He can make you *feel*. Do you really want to give that up?" That was the part she wanted to listen to. She'd been through enough stress and emotional heartache. She wanted to be free. She wanted to let him make it go away and replace the emptiness with something whole. She didn't want to be barren anymore.

Gently she kissed him. It was a tender gesture that touched him deeply. He smiled down at her. "Buffy, I love you."

A frown flitted across her features. "I think you do, Spike," she said slowly and studied him carefully. "But that doesn't change anything."

Spike forced himself to smile and nod. He was relieved that she could finally believe him. It made things easier that way; but it also made them harder. She'd already sworn she could never love him, and although he didn't believe her, it killed him to hear her say it. With the way she was acting now, it was hard for him to understand why she just couldn't admit her feelings. There was some part of her that loved him, he knew it. In time, she would come to realize it too. He just wasn't sure how long it would take.

The tension was thick and uncomfortable between them. Buffy felt nervous as she watched a sadness pass over Spike's features. A twinge of pain snaked through her heart. She grimaced. A strong urge to make everything better abruptly filled her. The heat between them had nearly fizzled out. She wanted it back. If they could just forget all the emotional baggage and concentrate on each other, she knew things would be okay. She pressed her body invitingly against his and looked up at him through her lashes.

He had momentarily forgotten how close she was to him. Now that her body was back against his, their proximity to each other came and hit him full-force. His body reacted on its own and he dipped his head low to kiss her. As she started to take over, he pulled back. He wanted to be in control. He wanted to prove, not with words but with his body, how much he loved her. He kissed her again, gentle at first, then gradually he became more aggressive. He nipped at her lips and rolled his tongue over them, tasting their slick sweetness.

Buffy had been caught off-guard when he'd pulled back from their kiss. For an instant she had been afraid that, because of what she'd said, he no longer wanted her. Now that his mouth was back on hers, she gave herself over to his control.

Very soon, his control became too controlled. The fire was back and raging once again. She wanted him, but he was busy playing games. As he playfully nipped at her bottom lip, she moaned into his mouth and raked her nails down his back in an attempt to hurry him along.

Spike could sense her urgency, and felt it building inside him as well. But he promised himself that he would prove to her he wasn't a monster. He could be as caring and gentle as any other man, and he wanted her to know it. He knew being a vampire was part of the reason she wouldn't let herself love him. She had gotten emotionally attached to another of his kind and the whole thing had gone to hell. Literally. He understood that she was afraid of him. She would never come out and say it, but because he lacked a soul, she was afraid he would hurt her. Truth be told, he was afraid of that himself. What he was doing now, the tenderness he was showing her, was not only proof to her, but to him as well. He was proving to them both that he could be gentle and not hurt her. She wasn't making it easy though.

"Buffy, luv, I'm trying as hard as I can to be gentle here, but you're making it very difficult," he said as he pulled away from the kiss.

She smiled up at him, mischief dancing in her hazel eyes. She rolled her hips up against his and said, "Gentle later."

That was all the incentive he needed. His right hand grabbed the back of her head and crushed his mouth down on hers. His other hand yanked her to him and roamed upward along her back and then down again. In the back of his mind, a voice was telling him to slow down and remember his promise to himself. He squashed the voice, but left a mental note that later he would do as he had first intended. Right now, he had more important things to worry about.

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

He watched her sleep, a feeling of contentment deep within him. She was tangled in his sheets, exhausted from their early-morning fits of passion. Her golden hair was fanned out on his pillow, a few strands of it partially covering her face. One hand was curled under her chin; the other was lost under the pillow. He smiled and smoothed the hair back from her face, caressing her cheek as he went. She stirred slightly and nudged closer to him. She was beautiful, and everything he had ever imagined. Her skin was a rich bronze and smooth as silk. She was soft and taut in all the right places. Her Slayer strength had proved a match for him, he remembered with a sly smile. His eyes passed over her face and noted the slight swelling of her lips, then moved down her arms to the purplish bruises there. He'd given her a run for her money too.

Absently his hand trailed down her arm and he smiled at her shiver. He wondered what time it was and knew that all too soon she would have to leave. He pressed a soft kiss on her swollen lips and had to force himself to pull back when she strained forward into him. He settled down next to her and draped a possessive arm across her bare back. She sighed in her sleep and he closed his eyes, a small smile playing with the corners of his mouth. Very soon he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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

Buffy awoke with a strong feeling of satisfaction and serenity. She rolled onto her back, stretched and yawned, then rubbed the sleep from her eyes and slowly opened them. As her eyes adjusted to the dim room, she bolted upright, holding the sheet close against her naked chest. Her breathing quickened as she realized where she was and panicked.

"Oh god," she whispered and closed her eyes. "Oh god, please tell me I'm not where I think I am."

With her eyes still closed, she turned slightly and reached down. Gingerly her fingers grazed over the cold skin of the vampire sleeping next to her. She jerked her hand back and whimpered.

"No, no this can't be happening. This has got to be a dream. *Please* let it be a dream!"

Cautiously she opened her eyes and looked down. Beside her, Spike was stretched out on his stomach, one arm resting just inches from her thigh. Her eyes bugged out of her head as she quickly slid her leg away from him. She held her breath as he stirred and rolled over on his side.

With his back now to her, Buffy could relax a little. She sighed and looked helplessly about her for her clothes. She found them scattered about the room and remembered him stripping her as they kissed and groped at each other. Heat filled her cheeks as she blushed. She grabbed the few pieces that were lying on the bedpost and carefully slipped them on. Trying hard not to wake him, she untangled herself from his sheets and slid off the bed. She paused and waited, hoping he would not wake up. She wanted to get out of here before she had to face him. When she was sure that he was still sound asleep, the hunt for the rest of her clothes began.

Having successfully gotten dressed, Buffy quietly ascended the stairs and headed out the door. Bright sunlight greeted her. She blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light and her heart to stop pounding. Finally she headed in the direction of Revello Drive. She checked her watch and swore. It was after seven thirty. Dawn would be up and probably wondering where she was. Great. Now she had to think of some lame story to hide what she had actually been doing all night. What the hell *had* she been doing all night?

She shook her head. Spike? She had slept with Spike? How desperate was she? She had spent the entire night in an evil, soulless thing's arms. In his bed.

And strangely she had left him feeling alive.

"Stop it!" She shouted and grabbed her head to still the voices. "I don't know what the hell happened last night, but it's not going to happen again. Ever!"

She tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ears and continued walking.

It will not happen again. It will not happen again. It will NOT happen again! Over and over in her mind she chanted the phrase, willing herself to believe it. But something was making her doubtful. The part of her that recognized how Spike had made her feel was softly saying it *would* happen again. She could hear it underneath her chanting. It was singing to her in a delicate voice: You've tasted something. You've *felt* something. He made you feel it. You'll want him again. You'll need to feel again.

She quickened her pace as the thoughts warred in her head. Something awful had happened and she was so overwhelmed by it that she couldn't even think straight. She needed a distraction. She needed to think about something else for a while. Later she would figure things out. Yes, later would be better. Now was not the time to think about Spike. Thinking about him now would only bring about uncomfortable feelings and thoughts not of the good. Later, when she had calmed down, she could think clearly about everything. Later everything would be fine.

She could see her house approaching and could not for the life of her think of a good excuse for being out all night. She reached the edge of her driveway and decided to go with the timeless classic: "I was out fighting demons the whole night." Granted, it wasn't the most original of lies, but Dawn would believe it. As long as Dawn didn't get skeptical and ask too many questions, she would be safe. As long as *nobody* suspected anything, she wouldn't have to fess up to her incredibly embarrassing night with Spike.

She took a deep breath and walked across the threshold. Standing in front of the door she tried to collect her thoughts. Finally, with one last hope that Dawn wouldn't be awake, she opened the door and stepped inside.

"Buffy?" Dawn cried and rushed toward the front door. Her eyes lit on her sister and she shouted incredulously, "Where have you *been*?"

Buffy gave her little sister a weak smile, dropped her bag by the door, and plopped down on the couch in the living room. "I was out fighting demons the whole night," she said easily with a shrug. Over the years she had become very good at lying, although she really hated doing it to Dawn. It was hard to lie to someone who was so open and trusting of everything. In this case though, she had to make an exception.

Dawn's eyes went wide. "All night? Wow. There must really be some big beastie around."

"Yeah, there was. Lots of them, actually."

A mischievous smile curved Dawn's mouth. She sat down next to her sister and leaned toward her. "Were they big and hairy? Or like with horns and sharp teeth?"

Buffy couldn't help but smile. It was so like Dawn to dig for the most disgusting details. "Yeah, they were all gross looking. But hey, demons aren't exactly the most beautiful creatures to begin with."

"How many were there?"

Quickly, Buffy tried to figure out how long it would take to kill a demon, and judge how many she would need to kill in the amount of time she had been gone. Unfortunately her brain was too tired to do all that work. She gave up and shrugged. "Every time I killed one of them, another would step on up."

"Is that why you're all bruised and sore?" Dawn asked and glanced at her sister's battered body.

With a blush Buffy replied, "Yeah, he was a little rough...I mean they! *They* were pretty rough. Whew! I've never fought so many....rough demons?"

Well that was just great. Nice little cover-up there, Buffy. She definitely won't suspect anything now.

Surprisingly, Dawn just rolled her eyes. "I think you need some sleep, Buffy. Your brain isn't working right."

A sigh of relief escaped Buffy's lips. She stood up and stretched. "All work and no sleep make Buffy Cranky-girl." She yawned and said, "Is Xander picking you up this morning?"

"Yeah, he should be here any minute," Dawn replied and got up to find her bag.

Buffy nodded again and headed towards the stairs. "Okay. Good night, Dawnie. Have a good day at school."

"Don't you have work this morning?" Dawn called after her.

"Nope. I work the night-shift, remember?"

"Wasn't that before you got fired and then re-hired?" Dawn insisted.

"Hmmm..." Buffy said and turned to face her sister. "I think so."

Dawn waited, but her older sister didn't say more and didn't move to get ready. She sighed in exasperation. "That means you have to get ready, Buffy."

Squinting, Buffy looked at her watch. The numbers blurred and swirled in front of her eyes. She held the watch away from her and shook her head. "Eyes too blurry. Can't see time."

Grabbing the watch, Dawn glanced at it and reported, "Ten after eight. You've got to go or you'll be late." She pushed her sister up the first couple stairs as she added, "You have to be there in twenty minutes."

Reluctantly Buffy climbed the stairs, grumbling to herself about ungodly hours of the morning to be working. She stumbled into the bathroom and took a quick shower, then got out and rummaged through her closet for her work uniform. When she was dressed and ready to go she checked her watch and saw that she had two minutes to walk into the building before she was late. She dashed down the stairs, grabbed her bag and ran out the door.

She arrived at work five minutes late and received a five minute lecture from her boss about the importance of punctuality. She nodded and apologized at all the appropriate intervals, then pasted a smile on her face and stood behind the counter.

Time passed slowly and Buffy was bored out of her mind. Customers came and ordered; she took their money and placed it in the cash register. Then she gave them their food and waited for the next people to arrive.

As she leaned against the counter, her mind wandered for the millionth time to Spike. She replayed the events of the entire night over and over in her head, trying to figure out what had made her act so not of the norm. No matter how she looked at it, she always came up with the same conclusion: somehow Spike had made her feel.

She had been getting used to not feeling anything. She was hollow inside and although she hated it, she couldn't find a way to fix it. So she dealt with it. Then Spike had to go and listen to her complain about being back; and worst of all he had to be *nice* about it. He had to go and promise her that he would never tell her friends what she was going through. Somehow after that she had believed he was the only one who understood her, and because he understood her, she felt a little different towards him. She'd like to say she still hated him, but after what happened last night she knew she'd only be lying to herself. How she felt about him now was still jumbled up with the why's of going to see him.

A customer ready to order stopped her whirling thoughts. She tried desperately to concentrate on what he was saying, but fleeting memories of last night interrupted her. She had to stop him several times and ask him to repeat himself. Very soon he became annoyed and she was sent on an early break.

Thankful for the interference, Buffy went outside and leaned against the cold brick wall. She took several deep breaths and cleared her mind. If she was going to get through this day alive, she was going to need to get her thoughts in order. She closed her eyes and tried to make sense of everything.

When she finally opened her eyes again, nothing was clear. The only real thing she knew was that Spike had been able to make her feel alive. How he accomplished this and why she went to see him in the first place were still utterly lost to her.

She tilted her head back against the wall and let out a frustrated sigh. Why did I let him do those things to me? She snorted as she thought, probably wasn't even my fault. I bet he seduced me. At that thought she couldn't help laughing. Spike, the evil vampire, had the power to seduce the all-mighty Slayer? It was quite humorous.

"Buffy! Break-time's over!" A voice from within the Double-Meat Palace called.

"Coming!" She called back and pushed off the wall. She shook her head as she laughed again. I must be going crazy. First I sleep with Spike and now I believe he seduced me.

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

For the hundredth time that day, Buffy glanced up at the clock. It was almost four thirty. The torture would be ending soon. A pain shot up her spine as if to punctuate how torturous this job really was. She placed a hand to the small of her back and bent over backwards to stop the ache. She heard a crack and she straightened, the pain gone.

Resuming her position leaning against the counter again, Buffy's mind worked on the idea she had thought so funny earlier. The tedious hours of greeting customers and punching in orders had made her think. For a while now she had been toying with the idea that her intimate night with Spike had not been her fault at all. It was possible that he had taken advantage of her somehow. She doubted he would have raped her; even Spike had his limits. But the more she thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed that he had started the whole thing.

By the time the clock said four thirty, Buffy was already mad. She had convinced herself that somehow Spike had managed to lure her into his bed. She didn't know how he'd done it, and she didn't care. She'd disregarded remembering coming on to him; telling herself it was only the effects of his somewhat questionable charms. The other details of the night were also unimportant to her. The only thing she cared about was how he'd tempted her to sleep with him.

She stormed out of the Double-Meat Palace, intent only upon making him suffer for what he'd done.

* * * * * * * * * * * * Spike was just waking up from a very restful sleep when he heard pounding on his door. He groaned and rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of black jeans as he went. He climbed the stairs and headed for the door as the noise continued. "Quit your bloody pounding!" He shouted through the door. Slowly he pulled it open and stepped behind it, fearful of the sun that had not set yet.

Buffy slammed into his crypt and looked wildly about. "Spike!"

"Bloody hell, Slayer," Spike grumbled as he pushed the door shut, "give a man some peace, will ya?"

At the sound of his voice, Buffy had whipped around. She now faced him, anger flushing her cheeks a bright red, her jaw set, her eyes hard as she glared at him. "What the hell did you do to me?"

Momentarily caught off guard by her angry tone, Spike stared at her in confusion. He quickly realized what she was talking about and recovered with a cocky smile. "If you wanted me to show you again all you had to do was ask, luv."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "You know what I mean, Spike." She set her hands on her hips. "What the hell happened last night?"

A brief look of fear flashed across Spike's face. "You don't remember then?"

"Of course I remember!" Buffy shouted and threw her hands up in aggravation.

He was confused again. "What're you saying, Buffy? You remember what happened but you want me to explain it to you?"

She took a step closer to him, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I want you to tell me what the hell you did to me." Her face was livid. "Did you get me drunk? If you did, I swear to God..."

"Whoa! Whoa! Calm down now, Slayer," Spike interrupted and held his hands up in protest. "I didn't do a bloody thing to you...well, nothing you didn't enjoy." He looked her up and down with that cocky smirk back in place.

Her fist connected with his jaw and she smiled in satisfaction. She'd wanted to wipe that cocky smile off his face...

The force of the blow sent Spike stumbling backward. He caught his balance a second before his body hit the heavy metal door of his crypt. He brought a hand to his jaw to feel for any broken bones. Luckily there were none, although there would be a definite bruise there in the morning. "What'd you do that for?" He asked as he rubbed his sore face.

"You did something to me," Buffy replied, the smile gone from her face as well.

Spike took a step towards her and looked her directly in the eyes. "I didn't do a bloody thing to you," he repeated. His own anger was bubbling to the surface at this onslaught.

Before he even saw it coming, her other fist was flying at his left cheek. She wasn't as good with her left hand, but she succeeded in knocking him off his balance again. "Tell me what you did to me," she ground out.

He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and stared at her in disbelief. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Slayer. The only things I did to you were exactly what you wanted me to."

A sneer curved her lips. "Oh, that's right, Spike. Keep going. I'll get it out of you, even if I have to stake you to do it." She advanced on him, ready to do exactly as she'd threatened, but he grabbed hold of her shoulders and held her at arms length.

"Now look, Slayer, I don't have a soddin' clue what you're talking about. If you want me to answer properly you'd better explain what you want."

She could have easily gotten out of his grasp. It wasn't as if he were holding her tightly. But for some reason she decided to play along with his little mind-games. "All right, I'll bite."

He dropped his hands from her shoulders and waited expectantly.

"We both know I wasn't acting like myself last night," Buffy explained carefully. She wanted him to fully comprehend what she was saying so he'd have no way to deny again that he didn't know what she was talking about. At his nod she continued. "Under normal circumstances what happened between us would *never* have happened. We both know it."

Spike gritted his teeth. How did he know this wasn't going to be pleasant? He was just setting himself up for more heartache. Why the bloody hell did he put up with it?

As he watched her pace in front of him he realized it was because of her. It didn't matter what she said as long as she cared enough to say it. What he dreaded more than the hate-filled words she threw at him was her silence.

"I spent the entire day trying to figure out why I did what I did. I can't think of anything. The only thing I could come up with is that you did something to me." She stopped pacing and looked at him. Doubt flickered in her eyes for a second. She blinked and it was gone.

He chuckled. "You love blaming everything on me, don't you, pet? Makes it easier to deal with yourself." He wasn't totally surprised by her conclusion. It was so like her to make him out to be the bad guy. And he'd take it. He knew without a doubt that he'd let her blame him and smile through it all.

His eyes passed over the length of her, noting the rigid set of her back, the closely balled fists at her sides, the hard look of her eyes and the stubborn set of her jaw. She was a tightly coiled ball of tension just waiting to spring on him. All that tension was going to need a release soon.

"I'm blaming you because it's *your* fault!" Buffy cried. Her body shook with the effort she was making to hold back from pummeling him.

He shook his head. "Not this time, pet. I may have done some things to you in the past, but I wouldn't do that to you." His voice had gone soft as his eyes continued to travel over her rigid body. She was taut with frustration and anger, and he longed to soothe her. "You know I love you. I know you believe it now. And you know I'd never hurt you."

Tears threatened to spill down Buffy's cheeks. She took a deep breath hoping it would steady her, but she lost her control and a sob was wrenched from her throat. She covered her face with her hands and cried into them.

Spike's unbeating heart was breaking. He couldn't stand to see her cry. He moved beside her and pulled her into his arms.

Buffy went slack in his embrace. She uncovered her face and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. She let the tears flow as he mumbled soothing words into her hair and kissed the top of her head.

When her tears had finally subsided, she pulled back slightly from him. Her watery hazel eyes met his bright blue ones in a silent apology. At his smile she leaned her head back and kissed him. The feeling of his cool lips on hers sent a shiver down her spine. Her breathing quickened and her head was singing with the feeling of being alive. She needed that right now. She needed him to make her forget everything else and concentrate on living.

For a split-second, Spike was about to protest. Wasn't this very thing they had just been fighting about? Shouldn't she be accusing him of drugging her now?

Her mouth distracted him as she nibbled his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and their tongues met in a duel. His arms tightened around her and his hands slipped beneath her shirt to feel the warm expanse of her back.

She sighed into his mouth. At the moment, she couldn't even remember what they had been fighting about. She was drowning in all the feelings surrounding her.

Spike pulled back, but his hands remained on her bare skin. "Buffy..."

"I'm sorry, Spike," Buffy interrupted. She was suddenly afraid that the feelings would go away if he stopped kissing her. "I got scared and blamed you for what happened. I made myself believe that you'd done something awful to me." She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow at his smirk. "What?"

He couldn't help chuckling. "I was just going to say I don't have the patience to take you downstairs, so would you mind my nice comfy chair?"

Buffy grinned and glanced at the object in question. "I think there's a definite possibility for that chair."

Chapter Two: Dreaming

Buffy awoke with a sharp pain in her neck. She lifted her head from where it was resting and opened her eyes. The bleary form of Spike's face swam into view and she had to blink several times to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Panic seized her and she tried to move away from him. She found with horror that she was straddling his lap and his arms were wrapped around her waist, keeping her from moving off him. She tried to squirm free, but that had the opposite effect on the sleeping vampire. His arms tightened around her, forcing her head back down to his chest. He grunted in his sleep but didn't wake.

"Spike. Spike, let go!" Her hands came up and pushed hard against his bare chest. She ignored the slight tingling of her fingers where they touched his cold skin and shouted his name again.

Finally his eyes fluttered open. As they focused on her, a slow smile spread across his face. "Morning, pet."

"Let go of me!" She replied and shoved at him again. His arms came away from her and she struggled to get off the chair. She stood up and groaned as the feeling came back to her legs.

"What's your hurry, luv?" Spike asked as he watched her.

She shot him a glare over her shoulder as she searched for her clothes.

My, this was becoming a new morning routine, wasn't it? Wake up and find the creature you're supposed to hate next to you, scramble about looking for your clothes, then slam out of his crypt and try to forget the whole thing.

Spike stretched in the chair and chuckled. "This how it's gonna be, then?"

Wiggling into her jeans, Buffy glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "You come to my place late at night, we shag, you wake up in a panic, then go home cursing my bloody name?"

"This is *not* going to be an everyday thing."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, an every *night* thing." She pulled her shirt over her head and sat down to tie her boots.

Spike stood up and pulled on his clothes. "Right then, so whenever you have an itch you can't scratch you'll come to me?"

Buffy frowned. "No." She had finished tying her boots and stood up, flipping her hair behind her shoulders as she looked at him.

He came to stand in front of her and gestured around them. "What's this then, pet?"

Deep in her mind, Buffy had been wondering the same thing. Why did she come to him when he was everything she was supposed to hate? Worse than that, why did she *want* to come to him?

She shrugged and said nonchalantly, "I don't know what you're talking about. This is nothing." She gestured between them and to the room. "*This* was a mistake. One that will never happen again."

Spike felt as if she'd just slapped him. No, it felt more like she'd just driven a stake through his heart. A mistake? How could she say that now after all she'd said last night?

He straightened and his eyes hardened. "If this is your idea of a game, Slayer, I'd watch your back. I don't like being played with."

She sneered at him. "What're you going to do, Spike? Scold me?"

In response, he grabbed her roughly and slammed her body against his. His mouth crushed hers in a brutal kiss.

Buffy was so startled by his reaction, she didn't have time to act. As his mouth assaulted hers, her body responded and went limp. Her mind, however, had had its fill of this abuse. It forced her arms to shove against him and her head to pull back.

"Don't touch me," she warned, every word stressed by her anger.

Spike smirked as he noted the shaking of her body. He'd rattled her just enough to get her memory back. "Don't tell me you didn't like that, Slayer. I could feel you. I know you want it."

She backed away from him, her eyes shooting green and gold fire. "You can't *feel* anything." Her voice was low and dangerous. "You don't have a soul. Without a soul, you can't feel."

His jaw was set, his eyes dark and cloudy with anger. He was trying desperately not to show the tumult of emotions that he *was* feeling. She was hurting him more than he'd like her to know. Her jibes about the lack of his soul always made him feel like there was only the demon part of him. Sometimes she didn't see the man buried underneath all the evil. The man that was frantically trying to overcome the demon and make her see him.

The hots and colds of her behavior confused and angered him. He knew there was a reason why she came back to him. Sure, the first time he could've written it off as a weak moment or something like that. But when she came *back*, now that meant something.

However, it appeared that the reason she'd come back was going to be well hidden from him. He wondered if *she* even knew what she was doing. But he'd had enough of her emotional roller coaster for one day.

"Guess you'd better go then," he said quietly.

A slight, barely noticeable nod was his only answer. She walked briskly to the door and thrust it open, then stalked out into the gray dawn of early morning.

Spike heaved a long sigh and sat down in the chair. He couldn't make sense of what was going on between them. It was so much simpler when they hated each other. Of course, he didn't like that scenario nearly as much as the one he wished for every second of every day. The one where Buffy would realize her feelings for him and come running to him. She'd throw her arms around him and kiss him, laughing in his ear that she was so naive for not realizing sooner that she loved him.

He ran his hands through his hair. "Stupid chit doesn't even know what she wants anymore." He stood up and descended the stairs to his bed. He flopped down on his stomach and laid his hand on the spot she had slept that first night. As his eyelids fluttered closed, he mumbled to himself, "She bloody well better figure it out soon."

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

Buffy stormed through the graveyard, kicking herself for another night spent with her enemy. Well, technically he wasn't her enemy anymore. After all, he had been helping her and the Scoobies defeat the beasties in Sunnydale. But that didn't make it okay for her to sleep with him...twice.

Although, she thought with a smile, the experience wasn't completely of the bad.

She shook her head in wonder. There were times when she forgot he was a vampire. He could make her feel so strongly sometimes it scared her. Just being near him was enough to send her into a whirlwind of emotions. She tried to hide them from him of course. The Slayer was believed to be the embodiment of strength. If she let him see what he was doing to her, he would have a power over her that no one was supposed to have.

As it was, he already seemed to have a certain thrall over her. He could make her feel weak and powerful simultaneously with just a kiss. He could make her melt and freeze with the touch of his hand. And when he looked at her, with his eyes baring every silent secret, he could make her feel lost and at the same time feel as if she had just come home.

In the end, it didn't matter. The important thing was that she was alive when she was near him.

Without realizing it, Buffy had reached her house. She stood again in front of the door, wondering if Dawn would believe another bald-faced lie. She doubted it, but what choice did she have? She couldn't tell her sister the truth. Although, Dawn did like Spike...

She twisted the knob and walked inside. Expecting her little sister to come dashing in from somewhere, Buffy braced herself. Nothing happened. The house was silent.

She shut the door and walked to the stairs. "Dawn?"

"Hey, Buffy," Willow's voice called down to her. She appeared at the top of the stairs and waved. She started down the stairs, but caught the tired look etched on Buffy's face and asked, "Rough night?"

Buffy smirked and thought, well if you call sleeping on an armchair straddling a vampire rough, then yeah, I'd say it was a fairly rough night. Of course, she didn't say that. Instead, she nodded. "Yeah, I'm beat. Where's Dawnie?"

"I sent her over to Janice's early this morning when you didn't come home. She was a little worried about you," Willow said as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She paused and looked her friend up and down with a concerned expression. "I was too. Where were you last night, Buff?"

"Patrolling."

"All night?" Willow asked skeptically.

Damn, thought Buffy, guess Willow's a little harder to convince.

"Mostly," Buffy replied with a small shrug. She hoped her friend wouldn't push her for details, but Willow wasn't satisfied yet with her answer.

"Buffy, you don't have to lie to me," Willow said. "I mean, if you are lying, which I don't think you would do..."

Buffy sighed and pulled Willow to the couch. "If you really want to know what happened, I'll tell you, but it's not a big deal."

Willow nodded. "I didn't think it was a big deal. I mean, you didn't seem all Catastrophe-Buffy."

"I was out patrolling, just like I said," Buffy started as her mind worked on an excuse. "Spike showed up and helped me. The fight got a little rough and I guess I blacked out because when I woke up I was in his crypt."

Willow gasped. "Buffy, are you okay? I mean, what happened? How many demons were you fighting? Why did Spike take you back to his crypt? Oh, Buffy, he didn't...do anything to you...did he?"

"Whoa, Will, calm down. One question at a time," Buffy said and held up a hand in protest.

"Sorry," Willow said with a blush and a shy smile. "I'm just...well, concerned about you."

Buffy smiled warmly. "I know. But I'm fine, Will. See?" She stood up and turned in a circle. "No broken bones, nothing." She sat back down.

"Tell me what happened," Willow said. "I mean, when you didn't come home at dinner Dawnie told me there were a lot of beasties around. I didn't think there were *that* many, though."

"Yeah, they just keep on coming. Guess that's the drawback of living on a Hellmouth."

Willow nodded. "So, what happened?"

Buffy laughed nervously as she said, "There really isn't much to tell." She caught the famous "resolve face" from her friend and knew Willow wouldn't stop pestering her until she heard the story. She dropped her eyes to the floor and said, "At first it started as just me and a vamp. He gave a pretty good fight, but naturally, I dusted him. Then a few of his friends came to take me on, but they were soon piles of dust too. For a little while after that it was just me and Mr. Pointy. Suddenly I was surrounded by vamps and demons. I figured I could take them and started going at it, but they kept on coming. I'd stake one and it seemed another would spring from its dusty remains. That's when Spike showed up. He helped me kill most of them, but still they kept coming."

She hesitated as if to remember what had happened, but shook her head. "I don't remember what happened after that. I woke up in Spike's armchair and freaked out. He somehow managed to calm me down before I staked him and explained what had happened. He said I got knocked out by a demon carrying a big club and he had to carry me out of the mob. We were closer to his crypt than my house, and since the pack was following us, he decided to take me there instead of home. He patched me up and left me to sleep, but he swore he didn't do anything to me."

As she finished her story, Buffy's eyes rose to meet Willow's and judge her reaction. She exhaled the breath she'd been holding when she saw the broad, frightened expression on her friend's face. The fear meant that Willow had bought the story. If she hadn't, there would have been doubt written all over her face.

Buffy was somewhat relieved that her stories had fooled another person. Willow was her best friend, though, and it hurt to lie to her. She wondered how much longer she'd have to keep lying. She wanted to believe that this was the last time, but that damn little voice was back. It was still telling her that she'd need to feel again and the only person who could make her feel was Spike. She stopped all thoughts of him as Willow started to speak.

"Wow, I...Buffy, are you sure you're okay? You look exhausted."

"I'm okay, Will," Buffy insisted. "A little tired, but I haven't gotten much sleep the past few nights."

Willow nodded. "Do you think maybe something's going to happen?" Her green eyes were big with excitement. If there was something going on, Willow was going to get right in the middle of it. She was always ready to help the Slayer with her useful magic.

Buffy shook her head. "I don't think so. Nothing really weird has happened yet."

"What about all those demons and vamps that were after you?" Willow insisted. "Maybe all the bad-guy activity means something." She halted and, if possible, her eyes got bigger. "Do you think the Hellmouth could be opening again?"

"I really don't think it means anything, Will," Buffy said again, hoping Willow would just drop it. She didn't want this becoming a big thing because then Willow would find out she lied. "Maybe there was a new nest somewhere."

"Yeah, okay," Willow replied and smiled. She could sense that talking about this made Buffy uncomfortable, and her friend had already been through a stressful night. She didn't want to make it worse. "Why don't you go up to bed? I'll call you down when Dawnie gets home."

Buffy smiled gratefully. "Yeah, thanks Will. I need some rest." She hugged her friend and headed up the stairs to her room. She changed out of her work uniform and into her pajamas, then slipped into bed and curled up on her side. With only a few brief thoughts of the familiar blond vampire, sleep overtook her.

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

She had figured it out. Sometime between relating the story she had made up to Dawn and meeting Giles for her patrol, she had figured it out. She was using Spike.

At first, the thought had seemed crazy to her. If anything, *he* was using her. But when she actually thought about it, everything was her fault. She had gone to see him, and she hadn't stopped him from kissing her, which she could have easily done. She didn't stop him when kissing led to other things either, which she also could have done with no trouble. It all boiled down to the fact that she was being selfish and caring only about her feelings. What she was doing to him was wrong, and she had to stop.

"I think that's about it for tonight," Giles said as they finished their third sweep of the cemetery. "There doesn't seem to be much activity. Are you sure this is where you encountered the nest?"

Buffy turned away from him and continued walking. To save herself from later embarrassment, she'd had to tell Giles the same story she'd told Dawn and Willow. She knew if she didn't, Willow would blurt it out and the whole thing would go kablooey. Naturally, he was concerned and offered to help her with the patrol. She had agreed only so it wouldn't seem conspicuous. After her "blackout" the other night she thought it would seem too strange if she didn't want some back-up.

"Yeah, Giles, I'm sure." She turned back to him and shrugged. "Maybe they decided to lie low for a night. I mean, I did kick their asses pretty good last time."

"And got yourself knocked out, I might add," Giles scolded lightly. He approached her and smiled warmly. "You do seem to have recovered quite well, however."

She smiled back. "Quick healing skills are a big bonus to the Slayer package."

Giles nodded and looked about them. There were no vampires or demons of any kind lurking about the calm graveyard. In fact, they were the only ones there. He sighed and took his glasses off to rub them on his shirt. "Well, perhaps they are in hiding. We'll keep an eye out on this area. Right now I think we should both head on home."

"Actually, I think I'll do one more quick sweep," Buffy said and started off. She hoped he wouldn't say anything, but she knew Giles too well.

"We've done three already, Buffy. I don't think there's anything out there."

"Just to be safe," Buffy replied and continued walking. "You go on home. I'll see you tomorrow and let you know what I find."

Giles placed his glasses back on his nose and sighed. He was happy that Buffy had gotten back into the routine after her trip from Heaven. For quite some time she had been miserable and frightened. Now it appeared she was acting more like her old self. It worried him a little that she seemed overzealous about her patrolling duties. She was still a young woman and needed rest; but she was also a stubborn young woman who did not do anything unless it was what she wanted to do. He watched her walk off into the dark and turned to head home. She would be fine.

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

"Spike, it's over," Buffy said. "Whatever we had...if we had anything to begin with...is over. I'm sorry, but it's just not fair to you." She frowned. Not fair to him? What did she care if it wasn't fair to him? She wasn't supposed to care...

She shook her head and sighed. "Why doesn't this sound right no matter how I say it?" She wondered out loud as she headed in the direction of his crypt. After figuring out that she was using him, she had promised herself to end it tonight. Now all she had to do was figure out how to say it. It shouldn't be a problem. After all, she had no feelings for him, right?

It *was* a problem, she admitted as she stood in front of the crypt. For some reason she didn't want to tell him it was over. Mostly it was because she knew all the feelings that flowed through her were caused by him. Not seeing him would mean not feeling. She wasn't sure she was prepared to deal with being empty again, but she had already made up her mind. Using Spike was not an option.

She pushed open the door and peeked inside. "Spike?" She waited for an answer, but there was no sound from within. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Spike, are you here?"

The crypt was silent. Buffy looked about her for some sign that he had recently been there. Everything looked the same as it had when she'd left that morning, minus the blond vampire on the armchair.

Cautiously she approached the stairs that lead down to his bed. She really didn't want to go down there. It was one thing to see the chair they had slept on; it was quite another to see the bed where he slept every day. Somehow the bed just seemed more intimate to her.

"Spike?" She yelled down the stairs and prayed for an answer. Again there was none. Her heartbeat accelerated as she began climbing down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she averted her eyes from his bed, focusing them anywhere but the scene of the first crime.

He was nowhere to be found. She searched everywhere, even finally chancing a look at the bed. It appeared that he had only gone out for the night. Most of his clothes were still scattered about the floor, and his bed was rumpled and unmade.

She smiled as she noted that it looked the same way as it had the first morning she'd left him. She wondered if he'd slept in it at all. Carried by her wayward thoughts, she moved closer to the bed and brushed her fingertips over the smooth white sheets. She suddenly felt very tired; almost as if she hadn't slept in two days, which wasn't really far from the truth.

Looking about her one last time, Buffy decided that he'd have to come back sometime. She crawled into his bed and snuggled down in the sheets, breathing in the rich, leathery scent of Spike. She drifted to sleep with a smile, thinking of his strong, hard body beside hers.

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

There was laughter and music all around her. People she didn't recognize were swirling around in a sea of bright colors and smiling faces. She looked about for something familiar, but everything looked foreign. Even the dress she wore was strange.

Abruptly, the music stopped and a man in a gray suit stepped up to a platform. He smiled at the crowd and waved about a tattered piece of paper in the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" He shouted over the rumbling of protesting voices. "Our very own William the Bloody has decided to grace us with another of his famous poems!"

William the Bloody. The name rang in Buffy's head. She knew that name. It wasn't what he was called now...but back then...

"Please, I...it's not finished yet," a soft, polite voice objected.

Buffy stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck, trying to see the source of the voice. She knew that voice too.

The man in the gray suit began to read the poem out loud. As the crowd stilled their movements, Buffy forced her way to the front and her eyes went wide at the sight of him.

He almost looked the same, she noticed as she gaped at him. He was sleek and muscular, with the same platinum blond hair she remembered. His face was finely carved, and his lips were full and soft. As he turned away from the man reading his poem, she looked into his eyes. Yes, they were the same too; that startling blue that sent a shock down her spine. The only difference she could see was the absence of his tight black pants and his leather duster. He was now dressed in brown slacks, a slightly wrinkled white shirt, and a rumpled brown jacket. He turned his head away from her and she frowned.

She followed his gaze to a tall woman with curly brown hair. She was standing a few feet away from the crowd of people, hiding her face behind an intricate-looking fan. As she caught William looking at her, she blushed and hurried into the other room.

William followed her, paying no heed to the laughter that had filled the room as the man in the gray suit finished his poem.

Buffy pushed her way through the crowd as the music started up again and the people began dancing. She stopped at the doorway and poked her head in, trying to stay as much out of view as possible.

William approached the woman and smiled softly. "Hello, Cecily."

She looked up at him, startled. "Oh, hello, William."

He felt awkward standing in front of her, so he sat down beside her. "Did you like the poem?"

"No, William. And I don't like that you wrote it about me, either," Cecily replied and turned her head away from him. She brought the fan to her face as she stared out the window, willing him to go away.

He was momentarily stunned. He quickly recovered with nervous laughter as he said, "It's not one of my better poems, I'll admit. But it's the feeling in those words that's important, not the words themselves," William told her softly.

Cecily stood up and said angrily, "I don't want you to write about me ever again, William. Don't speak to me anymore, either." Her cheeks were flushed with anger and she fanned herself vigorously to cool them. "Good- bye, William." She turned away from him, lifted her dress, and stomped out of the room.

William was so startled by her reaction, all he could do was sit and stare at the spot where she had been sitting. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. He blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"Spike, are you okay?" Buffy asked as she entered the room.

William's head snapped up at her voice. He wiped the wetness from his cheek and stared at her in confusion. "I'm sorry, you have the wrong person..."

Buffy smiled. "Sorry. You remind me of someone."

"I wish to be left alone, thank you," William said and sniffled. He looked away from her and waited, folding his hands in his lap and commanding himself not to cry.

Buffy ignored him and sat down beside him. "Did you write that poem for her?" She asked as she watched the people in the other room twirling about on the dance floor.

"Y-Yes, I did." William was becoming uncomfortable. He had no idea who this person was, yet she seemed to have no intention of leaving him alone.

"It was a lovely poem," she said as she looked back at him. "Except for that effulgent part. What kind of a word is that anyway?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He coughed to cover it and resumed his decorum as he replied, "It means glistening."

She cocked her head to the side. "Why didn't you just use that then?"

He shrugged and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. This woman was making him nervous. "Nothing rhymes with it, you see."

A small frown knitted her brow. "What's bothering you, William?"

He glanced up at her and was momentarily distracted by her eyes. They were a beautiful swirling mixture of greens and golds surrounded by a fringe of long black lashes. "You have lovely eyes," he murmured. Realizing what he'd just said to a complete stranger, William gasped and stood up. "I really must be going."

She reached out a hand and grasped his arm. "My name is Buffy Summers, William." She let go of his arm and shrugged. "In case you were wondering."

He nodded and said, "Yes, well I do beg your pardon, Ms. Summers, but I'm terribly late." With that said, he briskly walked out of the room.

Buffy was intrigued, to say the least, by this old-fashioned form of Spike. He seemed almost nothing like the tough, bloodsucking fiend she knew. But strangely she understood that this *was* Spike, before he was a vampire. These were his days as a human.

She watched him leave the party and lifted her dress to follow him. He had definitely seemed unnerved by her presence, and this amazed her more. She had never known Spike to be shy and well-mannered. But then again, she reminded herself with a smile, William wasn't a vampire.

She caught sight of him just as he ducked into an alley. Quietly she followed him, not wanting him to know she was there. She wanted to get a little background information on this William the Bloody. She had always wondered what Spike was like before he was a vampire. Now was her chance to find out. She slipped into the alley behind him and hid behind a large wooden crate.

"Hello, dearheart," a woman's sultry voice whispered.

William started and whipped in the direction of the sound. His eyes were wide with fear and his face was tear-stained. He watched as a dark- haired woman stepped out of the shadows.

"Don't be afraid of little old me," the woman said with a smile. "I won't bite you unless you want me to."

William backed away from her. "Please, I don't have any money with me right now..."

"Shh...silly boy. I'm not here for your money." She came towards him and stared for a long time deep into his eyes.

"I-I must be going. I have a p-previous engagement..."

The woman snarled. "You can't leave yet, darling. I'm not finished yet."

He swallowed as she took another step closer to him, her dark brown eyes boring holes into his. "W-What do you want?" He asked quietly in a shaky voice.

An evil smile curved her ruby lips. "Your soul." Suddenly her face contorted. Her forehead slanted into ridges above her eyes, and fangs elongated in her mouth. She hissed and took another step closer to him.

Buffy sprang out from behind the crate and tackled her. Both women fell face-down in the dirt. Buffy rolled over and jumped up, crouching into a fighting stance. As the vampire started to struggle to her feet, Buffy planted a swift kick in her side, knocking her down again.

The vampire rolled away and stood up, looking around for her attacker. When she saw the small blonde girl in front of her, she laughed hysterically.

Buffy's eyes went wide as she recognized the face of William's attacker. A sneer curved her lips. "Drusilla."

The vampire stopped laughing and stared incredulously at the young girl. "Have we met, dear?" She asked.

"Not yet," Buffy replied and kicked out with her right leg. She connected with Drusilla's stomach and doubled the vampire over.

The dress she was wearing hampered her movements. With a hard tug, the fabric was ripped away. She stood now in white pantaloons and the ripped top of the old-fashioned dress.

Drusilla came at her with her teeth barred. She snarled and swung out with her left arm. Buffy blocked the blow, but wasn't quick enough to stop Drusilla's right fist from connecting with her stomach. She grunted in pain, and aimed a high-kick at the vampire's head. Drusilla ducked and just barely missed the toe of Buffy's shoe.

The vampire and the Vampire Slayer fought for some time. Drusilla was not as skilled as Buffy, but the demon inside her human form would not let her give up. William had backed into the farthest corner from the two fighting women. He watched them with mouth agape. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that the dark-haired woman wanted to kill him, and the blonde woman was trying to save him. Silently he cheered for the blonde.

Sometime later, Buffy was getting tired of the preamble. When the fight had begun, she'd felt as if she hadn't fought in years. Now her muscles were beginning to ache from the blows Drusilla was managing to get past her blocks.

As the vampire came at her again, Buffy knocked her to the side and pulled the stake from her waistband. She was a little amazed that she *had* a stake with her, having been wearing a dress and all, but she ignored the slight shock and held it at the ready. Her eyes fixed on the dark-haired demon as she advanced.

Drusilla saw the stake and immediately became wary. She too was beginning to feel the sting of the bruises that would be there tomorrow...if she lived. Cautiously she watched Buffy as she approached, the stake held high in her right hand. When she was close enough, Drusilla spun about and kicked out with her right leg. Buffy pulled her hand back just in time and the blow cut through the air with a whoosh!

Carried by the momentum of her blow, Drusilla spun around. Her back was exposed just long enough for Buffy to react and plunge the stake through her. Drusilla screeched and turned to dust.

Buffy heaved a great, tired sigh and brushed the dusty remains from her clothes. She tucked the stake into her waistband again and slowly walked toward William. He was still cowering in the corner, shocked by what he'd just witnessed.

"What...How did you..." He stuttered, unable to form a sentence in the midst of his whirling thoughts.

"Vampire," Buffy replied, "and it's my job."

William was confused. "Your job? You mean, you kill...vampires...for a living?"

She shrugged and pulled him away from the wall. "It's what I do."

"I don't understand. You mean to tell me that woman was a vampire?" He shook his head in disbelief. "But vampires don't exist. They're a myth..."

"Oh they're real all right," Buffy interrupted. "Most people like to imagine they're not, though. I guess it makes their lives less frightening that way."

William considered this for a moment before he said, "Yes, I suppose it does."

Buffy stared at him for a moment, fighting the urge to fall into his arms. He was so cute and helpless like this; not at all like Spike. She shook her head. He *is* Spike, she reminded herself. He's the same Spike that tried to kill you and now claims he loves you. He's the same Spike with a chip in his head who wouldn't hurt you now even if he didn't have it. He's the same Spike who can make you crazy with frustration and just plain crazy.

"Ms. Summers?"

She blinked back the tears that were on the verge of falling and forced a smile. "Call me Buffy."

He smiled shyly. "Buffy. I-I just wanted to say, um, thank you."

Emotion overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes and the tears leaked out, racing down her cheeks. She wasn't sure exactly why she was crying, but she couldn't stop. Her head was spinning with everything she was feeling. There were so many emotions filling her she couldn't sort through them. Most were familiar: sadness, happiness, longing. But there was one that she couldn't identify, although it almost seemed as if it had been there for some time.

"Buffy, are you all right?" William asked and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She opened her eyes and gave him a shaky smile. "Fine. Just a little...overwhelmed."

Concern filled his deep blue eyes. "You're shaking."

"That usually happens when I cry," Buffy told him and wrapped her arms around her chest.

On impulse, William gently pulled her into his arms. Slightly shocked by this, he nearly apologized, but she melted into him and he forgot his words.

He should have been wary. After all, he had just met this woman and now here he was, hugging her in his arms. There was a feeling of familiarity between them, and holding her like this felt right. He could also feel a stronger emotion rooted at the very core of him. It was so profound that it seemed to be his essence of life.

"I feel like I know you," he murmured as he rested his chin on her head.

She smiled and pressed her cheek against his chest. She felt his heart beating and a thrill of joy seeped into her. "You do."

William chuckled. "How can I already know you when I only just met you?"

Buffy leaned her head back and stared into his eyes. She could see the emotion there, and felt it take root within herself. She understood now what the undefinable feeling was. Her heart swelled. "Do you know what you're feeling right now, William?" She asked, avoiding his question for the moment.

A serene smile spread across his face. "I feel many things: contentment, happiness, love."

"That's the one," she said with a soft smile. "You feel you know me because you love me."

"But how can I? I hardly know you, Buffy," William said as confusion knitted his brow.

"Have you ever felt that something was just right?" Buffy asked. "You don't even have to wonder why you feel it, you just know that it's perfect?"

"Yes."

"That's what love is like. You don't have to understand why you feel it. All you need to know is that it's right."

His blue eyes sparkled as he bent down to kiss her. Mere inches away from her mouth, he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, Spike," Buffy whispered back and pressed her lips against his. She felt her heart expand and her head sang the words she had feared for so long: I love Spike.

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

"Buffy. Buffy. Buffy."

He was calling her name. Somewhere close by he was calling to her; beckoning her to follow him. She could not see him anymore. Everything had gone dark. She reached out and tried to feel around in the darkness, but all she felt was empty space. Spike was gone.

Buffy whimpered and rolled onto her back. She suddenly felt cold and alone without his presence beside her.

"Buffy."

Her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow. "Spike," she moaned helplessly. She could feel him nearby, but the darkness that engulfed her would not let her reach him.

Ice-cold fingers gripped her flesh and she gasped. Her eyes flew open and the blackness vanished. It was replaced by the familiar dimness of Spike's crypt.

Slowly she turned her head and her eyes met his. A mixture of relief and embarrassment filled her. She blushed and turned away.

"Are you all right, Buffy?" Spike asked in concern as he let go of her arm. "You were making horrible noises and thrashing about. Scared me a bit. I called your name, but you wouldn't wake up."

"Just a bad dream," Buffy replied nervously.

Spike sat down beside her on the bed, confusion replacing the concern on his face. "What're you doing sleeping in my bed, pet?"

Buffy bit her lower lip. Such a good question, Spike...

Next