Chapter 17

"Ta-Da." Buffy flung back her bathroom door and ushered Spike inside. "So, what do you think?"

"Whoa," Spike stepped inside and looked around. "Talk about bathrooms of the stars."

"You like?"

"Yeah, I like." He sidled up behind her and placed a hand on each side of her waist, his thumbs making little circular motions, moving higher. Taking her tee shirt with them. "How about we take that Jacuzzi for a test drive."

Buffy leaned back against him for a moment, savouring the feel of his hands on her bare skin. Remembering what those hands were capable of, how they made her want to melt under their heat. "Yeah," she gasped as they reached the sides of her breasts. "But we’re gonna do this properly."

"We are love." He was tugging the tee shirt in earnest now, impatience making him clumsy. "Lift your arms, sweetheart, you’re wearing too many clothes." His voice had already dropped a few notches, taking on a passion - roughened edge that made her shiver with anticipation.

Still, she managed to push him away. "Not yet Spike. I gotta plan."

"You do? Come back here, you minx." He made another grab at her, but she skipped out of reach.

"No you don’t, I’m in charge tonight."

That stopped him in his tracks. He stepped towards her and sucked on his bottom lip for a moment as he thought about it, his finger tracing a lazy pattern over the front of her tee shirt. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She tossed her hair back, hoping it made her look sultry, yet available. "Always wanted to do the Jacuzzi thing. You know, like in the movies."

Spike was still watching his fingers moving over her breasts. "Keep talking Buffy, you’ve got my attention."

"Well, I, uhh, oh god Spike." She leaned right into him, so that her breast filled his hand. At this rate they weren’t going to get very far with her plan at all. It wasn’t so much of a plan really. She hadn’t meant for this to happen tonight, but she’d seen enough films, read enough books to know how much fun there was to be had with a Jacuzzi. She’d fantasised about it often enough and now she wanted the whole show. Champagne, bubbles, soft music and of course a sexy hunk. She removed his hand, earning herself one of his disappointed looks. She loved it when he did that. All pouty bottom lip and puppy dog eyes. Still, this needed a certain amount of setting up. There was a lot to be said for spontaneous sex. That was a lesson she was learning fast. But planning and organising were what she was good at. And this was going to be good.

"Now, Spike, you’ll have to go to the supermarket. I don’t think I have any champagne, and we’ll need to get sexy food...what?"

Spike’s face was a picture. "You want me to go shopping?"

"Well, yeah. I’ll be busy here, setting up. Got to do this right."

"Buffy, I can hardly walk here." He took her hand and showed her just what he was talking about. "This is cruel and unusual punishment, you know that."

Buffy thought about it for a few seconds, enjoying the feel of him. Loving the way his facial expressions changed, and feeling just a teensy bit guilty. He didn’t look very comfortable at all. But she wasn’t relenting. This was fantasy-come-true-time, and the first time she’d had the requisite hunk to do it with. She traced his bottom lip with her finger.

"Oh, please Spike? It’ll be worth it."

"Okay, but on one condition."

"What’s that, eek." She gave a shriek as Spike scooped her off her feet, and marched back into the bedroom with her. He plopped her down onto the bed and started stripping off his tee shirt.

One look at his naked chest and she’d got the idea.

He looked at her apologetically. "Sorry love, gotta get this out of the way first." He stopped with the tee shirt half way off. "Yeah?"

At that moment Buffy felt like the most powerful woman on earth. She knew that if she said no now he would bite his own leg off rather than continue. But she wasn’t going to say no. This could be part of the fantasy too. She nodded ever so slightly and the tee shirt came all the way off. Within five minutes both sets of clothes were strewn about the bed and floor and Buffy had at last learned the true meaning of the expression ‘quickie.’

~*~*~*~*~

Spike lay, half sprawled on her getting his breath back.

"Now, get some good champagne, not the rubbish - I’m paying, don’t argue. I want to do this. And some sexy food. What do you think? Asparagus?"

He lowered his head to her chest. "Asparagus? You’re something else, you know that?"

He felt Buffy’s hand in his hair. "So you keep telling me."

His whole body relaxed under her ministrations. If she hadn’t said yes, he would have had to go off to the bathroom by himself, he was that desperate. Not his preferred option. But she’d got him so hot, so excited, that she had no idea. At least now he could pace himself, and he was looking forward to her little fantasy evening. "How do you do that?"

"What this? She threaded her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Yeah, that, that’s nice. And the other thing."

"What other thing?"

"The multi-tasking. I’m lying here with bloody cherubs flying around my head. There’s a hundred piece orchestra, violins, the lot, and you’re making a shopping list." He lifted his head to look at her, his breathing calming down at last. She looked a little concerned.

"Oh, Spike, I wasn’t, you know while we were..."

"Calm down love, joking here. You’ve got to get with the English sense of humour. I love it Buff. I love everything about you."

He could see she was holding her breath, wondering if she’d heard him right. He hadn’t quite said he loved her, but it wouldn’t be long, he realised. "Hey, come with me. I’m bound to buy the wrong brand of asparagus or something."

"All right. How about we take my car? You can drive."

"Can I?" Spike was off her like a shot, picking up his jeans and pulling them on. "Sex, fast cars, Jacuzzis, you sure know the way to a man’s heart." He stopped and looked at her, lying on her back, her arms flung wide, smiling lazily. "What are you waiting for woman? Get dressed." "Changed my mind," she pouted. " Got no energy left."

"Hey, part of the fantasy, remember?" He picked up her tee shirt and contemplated it before dropping it onto her face. "You got anything better than this to wear?"

She moved it down so that just her eyes were showing. "Might have."

He folded his arms and waited. "Well?"

"Reckon I’ll surprise you." Buffy rolled onto her stomach and leaned her chin on her hands. "Gonna watch you getting dressed, then you can get the car out and wait for me."

Spike picked up his tee shirt and pulled it over his head, smoothing it down slowly over his body. Letting her enjoy the show. He half contemplated putting a condom into the pocket of his jeans. When she looked at him like that, he just wanted to throw her down onto the bed and have his wicked way with her, over and over. God knew if they were going to make it to the supermarket without a detour. He decided against it though. Didn’t want to push his luck. She was still watching him appreciatively as he buckled his belt.

"Go get the car, Spike. Keys are in the hall table drawer. I’ll be two minutes."

"I’m gone." He stopped for a last kiss. "Don’t be long."

"I won’t be." She blew him another kiss. "This is a shopping trip you’re going to remember for a long time," she thought.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy jumped up as soon as Spike left the room. She opened her wardrobe and took out the naughty leather top. It seemed appropriate. Well, not actually appropriate for supermarket shopping, but this was what had brought them together. If she hadn’t got Angelus all fired up, he never would have come after her, and Spike wouldn’t have had to rescue her from him. That night she’d wanted the earth to swallow her up. Little did she know then that it would lead to this. Or that the next time she’d wear the thing would be to the supermarket, of all places.

She pulled it on, teaming it with a lacy thong. Over the top she slipped on a pair of clean jeans and a zip up fleece. Trainers finished the ensemble. She didn’t want to give the game away too soon. Then she jumped as the car horn sounded, and ran down the stairs. As she locked the door behind her, she caught a glimpse of Spike’s mystified expression. Not what he’d been expecting, obviously. He looked her up and down as he put the car into reverse.

"You look, er um, nice."

"Why, thank you Spike." She put on her best impression of a southern USA accent, earning herself another strange look.

"Did I miss something here?"

"No." She was having a lot of trouble keeping a straight face. Had never been good with secrets, and this one was so delicious. She wondered when the best time to reveal what she was wearing would be. Not while he was holding anything breakable, obviously. And of course, she didn’t want to flash the whole supermarket. They probably had laws about that sort of thing.

They listened to music, neither of them speaking, during the short drive to the shop. Spike, she noticed, kept giving her little sideways glances. It was as if he knew something was up, but couldn’t quite fathom it. She spent most of the time looking out of the window, and chewing her lip, she was so sure she was going to burst out laughing. This was going to be so much fun.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike collected a shopping cart and joined Buffy. Something was up. Her mood had changed just slightly. She was a little too hyper. He wanted to think it was because she was all wound up with the thought of what they were going to do later. But he didn’t think it was that. She was up to something. He could read it all over her face. But what was with the clothes? He’d fully expected her to surprise him, and she had. Not in the way he’d thought though. He was hoping for a skirt, at least. She had such fabulous legs. He’d be seeing them soon, he supposed, following her through the revolving door. Now, what the hell did sexy food look like?

~*~*~*~*~

"You’re a poet, and you can’t think of any sexy food? Shame on you" Buffy picked up a melon. "What about this?"

"Too messy."

Buffy popped it in the cart. "Messy is good. Gonna pick up some whipped cream later." She sashayed off, leaving him standing. His eyes wide, his mouth open. He snapped it shut and shook his head, then hurried after her. "Wait up Buffy. How about grapes?"

Buffy winked at him. "Catching on fast. You sure you haven’t done this before?"

"Nope. Do you really want asparagus?"

"No, not really." They turned into the confectionery aisle. Chocolate would be good. And, she noticed, it was deserted. Time to put her plan into action. She grabbed at her zipper and made a show of trying to open it. "Spike, my zipper’s stuck, would you help me?"

"What?" Spike put down the box of chocolates he was looking at. "Here, gotta give it a big...whoa!"

The zipper went down and Spike’s eyes nearly popped right out of his head.

Buffy batted her eyelashes at him. "Something wrong, Spike?"

"Why you little..." Spike’s eyes were locked squarely on her chest. "You realise we’ve got to go straight home right now, don’t you?"

"But we haven’t finished our shopping yet Spike. Now, which chocolate do you like?"

"Sod the chocolate. I want you, lets go..." He suddenly made a grab at the fleece, holding it closed as an elderly couple walked by.

The old man winked at Spike, a broad grin on his face. "Need any help there, mate. I’m a lot younger than I look."

The old woman gave them a vaguely scandalised look dragging her husband away, as Spike stood himself in front of Buffy, trying to shield her from them.

His face was slightly pink as he turned round. "Let’s do this up again before someone has a heart attack, eh." He closed the zipper and slid it right up to her neck. "There, that’s better. Don’t want the whole store looking, do we?"

"Except you of course." Buffy chose a box of chocolates and handed them to him. "Do you like these?"

Spike tossed them into the cart without even looking at them. "Damned right except me. That is for my eyes alone young lady."

"Ooh, Spike, I think that car’s gone to your head." Buffy walked off again, feeling well pleased with herself. This was a side of Spike she hadn’t seen until this afternoon. Caveman Spike. All protective and macho. He’d been like a boy with a toy driving her car. She hadn’t missed the smug little smirk he’d been trying to keep off his face. Or the ease with which he’d handled the vehicle.

The last time he’d had to protect her she’d been the damsel in distress, and he’d failed miserably at the macho bit. If Angelus had been seriously going to attack her, then Spike lying on the ground with a broken head would have been no use to her at all. This sort of thing was important to men, she supposed. And to tell the truth, she liked this protective vibe he was sending out. It was strange. Instead of making her feel helpless, it actually made her feel powerful. There is was again. That word. She tried not to overanalyse it, something she tended to do, but it was nice knowing that she made Spike feel all manly. And god knows, he made her feel more like a woman than she’d ever felt before. All of a sudden she wanted to go home too.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike sleep-walked through the rest of the shopping. All he could think about was how she’d looked when she’d opened that fleece. And how he’d reacted. Why didn’t he just club her over the head and drag her home by her hair? She had every right to wear what she liked, when she liked. And she probably would too. But he’d sounded like a macho jerk. And he’d never been like this with Drusilla. She’d always taken a delight in wearing outrageous clothes and he’d been proud to show her off. Hadn’t cared who’d looked. Then why not Buffy?

He reached for his wallet when they got to the checkout, but she pushed it away. She wanted to pay? Fine. He could do caveman, and new-man. Pretty soon, he’d be doing willing slave, he reckoned. No, he was doing that already. If she said jump, his reply would be, how high? And he couldn’t take his eyes off that damned zipper. Every time her hand went to it - and she’d been doing that all round the store - he thought she was going to pull it down. She was doing it now. Fingering it lightly and sending him little glances. God, she was a tease. And this certainly was going to be an evening to remember.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy dropped her shopping bag onto the kitchen table and fished out the champagne. "Here," she handed it to Spike. "You open this, corkscrew’s in there, and I’ll get the tub filled. It takes ages."

He took the bottle. "As in a long time?"

"No, Spike. I can tell what you’re thinking."

He started on the bottle. "What, you’re psychic now?"

"Don’t need to be." She gave a knowing nod at the bulge in his jeans, and then made a big show of busying herself with the rest of the shopping. "Now where did I put those candles?"

"You’re a wicked little madam Buffy. Whoa." He jumped back as champagne spilled over the neck of the bottle and splashed his jeans. "Did you work in a torture chamber in your last life?"

"I might have. Do you have any matches for these?" She held up the scented candles. "Vanilla or Spice, and what’s with the madam? You calling me a hooker?"

"Wouldn’t dare. Lighter’s in my coat pocket. And, a little madam is what we’d call a spoilt brat of a kid. Like you were, I’m guessing." He took the candles from her and sniffed them in turn, indicating the vanilla. "This is kind of nice."

"You have no idea how right you are, Spike." She leaned back as she felt him move in behind her. "Umm, that bath needs filling." They were never going to make it upstairs if he didn’t stop distracting her. She batted his hand away as it made for the zipper of her top.

"Tell me what you were like Buffy, when you were a kid. Did you have pigtails?"

"Yeah."

"Want to show me?"

"Spike! That is so...for another evening. Look, take the wine and glasses, and go upstairs. Get that bath filled and I’ll see to this lot. Go."

"Yes miss." He gave her a little salute, picked up the things and then scooted out of the room as she threatened him with the wet dishtowel. She placed it back on the sink, remembering how he’d stuffed it down the back of her tee shirt, that night. How it had led to their first kiss.

He was being very sweet about all this she thought, as she hurried through the rest of the preparations. And the teasing banter was kind of nice. Made them seem like they’d been together for a longer time than just a week. She tipped the olives into a dish, wondering if they actually qualified as sexy food. They didn’t look very sexy sitting there. Spike hadn’t been much help at all in choosing the food, especially after she’d shown him the top. He’d said yes to everything she’d suggested, and hurried her on to the next aisle.

So, they had melon, chocolates, grapes, olives, and frozen strawberries and cream. The chocolate fudge ice cream could wait for later, she decided. She fetched Spike’s lighter and slung it into the bag with the candles. There was just the slightest twinge of nervousness as she climbed the stairs. Was this going to work? Had she ruined the mood by insisting on all this preparation? Spike had been all for leaping into the tub as soon as they’d arrived - perhaps that’s what they should have done. She wouldn’t blame him if he’s gone right off the idea altogether.

The bathroom was hazy with steam as she walked in. One look at Spike and she knew he definitely hadn’t gone off the idea. Already stripped to the waist, he took the tray from her and unhooked the carrier bag, dumping it on the floor. As his fingers slid her zipper down, he gave her a look that was pure wolf. "Been wanting to do this for a long time, " he said, lazily pulling at the laces of the leather top. "Ever since that night you fixed my head."

Buffy had to hold on to his elbows to stabilise herself. She held her breath as he pushed the sides of the leather top apart, felt it slither to the floor. It had been outrageously expensive, but worth every penny. Look where it had got her. Who it had got her. Her hands went to his belt buckle, all traces of nervousness gone.

"Light the candles Spike, I’ll get the bath oil." She hardly recognised her own voice as she said it. All the light-heartedness had vanished, leaving something deadly serious and intense. As the main light went off, the room took on an other-worldly feel in the flickering candlelight. The shadows on Spike’s face, the planes of his chest, the heady scent of exotic bath oil. It reminded her of the night they’d visited the well-house. That feeling of being outside time, the world going away. Only that had had an innocence about it. It had been magical, and this was too. But this was a darker magic.

Buffy had thought she was going to feel silly, self-conscious, but as Spike knelt down in front of her and worked on her jeans, pulling them down her legs, taking her thong with them, she felt like a goddess. He was looking at her with such reverence as she stepped out of them. His hands tracing a path over her calves, her thighs, cupping her bottom. Pulling her towards his waiting mouth. He pushed her down so that she was sitting on the side of the semi-sunken tub, pulling her knees apart so that he had more room to work. She grabbed at his hair, pulling it too hard as she felt herself losing control. Heard him groan as she moved against him. Groped for him as he stepped away to pull off his own jeans.

And then the cool marble of the bathroom floor was at her back as he fumbled for a condom. He sank into her with a growl and she felt him nipping and licking at her neck, whispering naughty words in her ear, kissing her mouth with a ferocious intensity. Completely overwhelming her, and totally abandoning himself to the ecstasy so blatantly written on his face. And she revelled in it. Just the thought of how crazy she was making him made her want to come again and again. He was a wolf. Her wolf. And she wanted him to eat her up, so that she could be with him for ever. And we haven’t even gotten in the tub yet, she thought shakily.

When he came, he seemed to go on convulsing forever, and she held him and stroked his hair as they both floated back down to earth. Back to the hot, steamy bathroom. And when he finally lifted his head, he looked at her with a dazed expression and said just four words.

"I love you Buffy."

Chapter 18

He’d said it first. The thing she’d been wanting to say, the first time he’d kissed her, but hadn’t dared to, because it was too soon. Because she thought it might frighten him away. He’d said he loved her. Had made it easy for her, because now she could say it too. Only she didn’t have to worry about being rejected or having her words flung back at her. He’d taken all the risks by baring his heart first. And she loved him all the more for it.

Spike rolled over onto his back, taking her with him, so that she was draped along the length of him, her head snuggled into the curve of his neck. "I mean it Buffy. Happened kinda quick, the falling in love thing. But it’s the truth."

"I love you too Spike." It still felt strange saying it, even though she knew it was what he wanted to hear. She meant it with all her heart, but she was scared that it somehow wasn’t coming out right. And she desperately wanted him to know how much she meant it. "I think I’ve loved you since the first time you kissed me. Do you remember that?"

"Hardly likely to forget, pet. That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Didn’t you feel me falling?" Buffy kept her face tight against his skin.
"If you hadn’t been there to catch me, I’d have shattered into a million pieces."

"Lucky I was then. I love it when you quote poetry."

"I just made that up."

Spike chuckled. "Still poetry, love." His arms slipped around her waist, hoisting her up. He gazed at her lovingly for a few moments.

"Hey, let’s see what else we can remember about that night. Weren’t you kinda like this?"

She gave a little laugh as he lifted her. "Yeah, but with more clothes on." She wriggled so that she was in just in the right position. "Are you sure Spike, we only just..."

"Hey, what kind of talk is that? Male pride here. Just keep moving."

"Like this?" She gave an experimental wriggle and then fell forward in a fit of giggles. "I’m sorry Spike, I’m feeling a bit giddy. Haven’t even had any champagne yet." She raised her head, her face shining. "You just told me you love me. I wanna just run up and down the road shouting it to everyone I meet."

"Not dressed like that I hope." Spike sat himself up, grabbing her round the waist to stop her from falling backwards. "Okay, what do you say we get in the tub? Then you can feed me grapes or something?"

Buffy gazed back at him. The man she loved. Who loved her. She hadn’t known till that minute that a heart could be so full of love that it might actually burst. Hers felt like it was going to pop with the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. She pulled him in for a kiss, and poured everything she could into it. So much so, that he broke the kiss and stared at her for a few seconds before crushing his lips back to hers. It just seemed to go on and on, each telling the other, without words, how they felt. A perfect moment of connection.

~*~*~*~*~

Willow picked up her regency novel and arranged herself comfortably on Xander’s couch. She was still breaking out into spontaneous little smirks every time she thought about the love machine. Had anyone seen them? And Xander. She thought he’d never want to speak to her again, but boy had he surprised her. Now he had some contract work to finish, so she was keeping him company. Only he wasn’t getting much done because she kept disturbing him.

"Do you think you’d like to 'lave' me Xander?"

He looked up, interested. "Sounds kind of kinky, what the hell are you reading?"

"Regency." Willow held the book up. "Not sure what it means though. Do you think he’s licking her?"

"What, is he a dog? Anyway, thought they were all prim and proper in those kind of books."

"Like us, you mean?"

Xander leaned back on his chair and stretched. "Yeah just like us. Sod this, can’t concentrate. How about I open a bottle of wine?"

Willow closed her book. "Sounds good. Then we can snuggle up in front of your gas fire and talk."

"Talk?"

"Yeah, talk. I’m a bit sore from all the - you know."

Xander was over like a shot, kneeling in front of her. "Oh Will, I’m sorry, was I..."

"Calm down Xan. Just overdid it a bit, that’s all. How many times was it?"

"Umm, quite a few. I just can’t keep my hands off you, you know that, don’t you?"

"Yeah, but I hope you’re not just after me for my body."

"Can you cook?" Xander ducked as a cushion came sailing his way. "I’ll go get the wine." He re-appeared a few moments later with a bottle and two glasses. "Here we go, now what did you want to talk about?"

Willow thought for a moment. "Tell me about you and Spike. You grew up together didn’t you?"

"Yeah." Xander sat next to her and pulled her against him. "We were mortal enemies, then best mates, and today...well that’s water under the bridge, I hope."

"So, how did you meet?"

Xander’s face took on a nostalgic look. "Eight years old. He was the skinniest, ponciest looking kid I’d ever seen, so of course I had to beat him up."

Willow looked shocked. "Why?"

"Because I could, I suppose. I was the big, tough, he-man type. What are you laughing at? And he was a real mummy’s boy. His dad was away a lot of the time, so I guess him and his mum were really close. Used to just stand there and cry. Never even hit me back."

"You were a bully?"

"Guess I was, only I didn’t realise it at the time. Just thought it was a bit of fun."

"Then how did you get to be friends?" Willow traced small patterns on the front of Xander’s tee-shirt. She wasn’t sure she was liking this story.

"Year or so later, he was away for a couple of weeks, then when he came back he was different. Started hitting back, big time. Anyone went near him, he’d just go berserk. Then I found out his mum had died, suddenly. Brain haemorrhage or something. Got a headache one day, they took her to the hospital and she collapsed and died in the waiting room. Spike was there when it happened, he's got this real phobia about hospitals now. Won't go near them.

"That's so sad, but what made you become friends? You didn’t keep bullying him after that did you?

"Of course not. Big gang of kids were out to get him one day. I figured he needed some help. Been best friends ever since."

"So, your friendship was based on fighting?"

"Pretty much. But bloody hell, together we were invincible. Then his dad went abroad and he got sent off to boarding school. Met up again when we started at university."

Willow was liking the story a lot better now. She really hadn't liked the thought of Xander being a bully. "So when did you start up with the computer thing?"

Xander reached for the wine bottle and re-filled both glasses. "Here. Couple of years back. 'Course, he had to go and do bloody poetry instead of computing. Still, we're doing okay. You wouldn't think it to look at Spike's place though. Lives in a right dump. Likes to think of himself as an artist or something."

"What, it's worse than this?" Willow clapped her hand over her mouth as soon as she'd said it. "On no Xander, I didn't mean..."

Xander chuckled. "It's alright love, yes it is worse than this. Saving up our profits for when he finishes his PhD, then we're really going to hit the big time."

Willow gave him an affectionate squeeze. "Sounds like you've got plans. That's nice. I wish I knew what I was doing next year."

They both lapsed into silence. Each thinking that as things stood, they would both be in different countries next year. Willow didn't want to think about that now.

"So, what's the deal with Dru? Do you think she'll back off now?"

Xander gave a deep sigh. "God Will, she doesn't give up. Always had her sights on Spike, right since we were kids. He's my best friend, she's my sister. And I'm bloody stuck in between. It ain't gonna end well."

She didn't know what to say. Poor Xander was stuck between the devil and the deep, blue sea. She raised her head and pulled him in for a kiss, trying to give him the comfort she hadn't been able to that afternoon. He returned it enthusiastically, but made no further demands on her, obviously remembering what she'd said earlier. It was nice just being with him, like this. Enjoyable as it was, she didn't want a relationship based just on sex, which up to now was really all it had been. She didn't know if she had any kind of future with him at all. There was no denying that she had to go home at the end of the year. She pulled him down for another, slightly more desperate kiss. The time was just going to go faster and faster, until the day when she’d be kissing him goodbye at the airport. They’d talk about staying in touch, but nobody ever did, did they?

She couldn’t stop the tears coming as she kissed him. He pulled back, surprised, wiping at them with his thumbs. Not saying anything, but looking deep into her eyes as if searching for something. Then he pulled her close and stroked her hair, as they both stared into the flickering flames of the gas fire. Neither saying anything, but each knowing what the other was thinking.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy hit the mall as soon as lectures were over on Thursday. She didn’t like leaving her field - trip shopping this late, but she’d spent so much time with Spike that she’d started to fall behind with her assignments, so she’d had to spend every spare moment on Tuesday and Wednesday in the library, frantically catching up. They’d spent every night together, though. It already seemed natural to, and she missed him like crazy when he wasn’t there. Wondered how she was going to get through a weekend of separate bedrooms and sneaking around. Perhaps they wouldn’t get any time together at all.

She tried to stop thinking about Spike for five minutes, and concentrate instead on the array of waterproof coats and hi tech walking boots in front of her. Did she want a breathable membrane? Gore Tex? In the end she gave up and did what she usually did. Just bought the most expensive item of everything she needed. By the time she’d finished, she was laden with bags and sorely in need of coffee, so she treated herself to a cappuccino and an enormous cream cake, and sat herself in the window of the small coffee shop.

She used to think that shopping was the biggest thrill of all, but now, of course, she knew that it wasn’t. Thinking about Spike made her smile again. She was turning into a grinning idiot. Had one plastered on her face most of the time now. She’d met Willow yesterday and they’d done nothing but smirk and giggle at each other. She sipped at her coffee, feeling very pleased with herself, happy with life. Everything was just wonderful.

She watched the people going by, the old, the young, moms with babies in strollers. Wondered if she’d ever be pushing one of those. Noticed the rowdy bunch of teenagers outside the record shop. Doing what teenagers did, messing about, being loud, pushing each other. She didn’t notice who was at the heart of the group. Someone who didn’t want to be seen, but who’d definitely seen her.

~*~*~*~*~

"It’s her."

"Who is?" The lanky, greasy-haired youth looked up.

"Over there, in the window." His companion poked him in the ribs.

"Ow, watch it Dru, you've got wicked nails."

"Serves you right for not listening. It’s that bitch who stole my Spike away from me."

"Oh yeah." One of the other lads looked up. "Which one is she?"

"The blonde. All big hair and American teeth. Told me to keep away from him, all high and mighty like. I’ll show her who’s in charge."

One of the group let out an appreciative whistle. "Hey, she’s hot, man, wouldn’t mind getting up her skirt."

Dru whopped him across the head. "We've got to teach her a lesson you prat. Thinks she’s pretty. Well she won’t be when we’ve finished with her."

The lad held up his hands. "No way Dru, I ain't beating up on no girl. Scare her a bit, yeah, or maybe we could nick her purse. All Americans are rich, aren’t they?"

Her other companion nodded. "You’re bloody scary sometimes Dru. I’m with Jake, let’s just nick her purse, and then we can go see Johnny."

Dru was staring across at the coffee shop window. "Got a better idea. You with me lads?"

"What you thinking Dru?"

"I’m thinking she’s got to have a car. Americans drive everywhere, right? Who fancies a joyride?"

Jake gave a loud whoop, drawing disapproving stares from the shoppers around them.

"Quiet you moron, she’ll see me. Don’t want her to do that. She’s up. We follow her, you grab the car, then meet me by the west door." She rubbed her hands together. "Thought you’d got one over on me, Buffy Summers. Didn’t you know that nobody does that?"

The greasy-haired youth let out a snigger. "You’re mad, Dru, fucking mad."

Dru put her arm around his shoulder and leaned in very close to his ear. "Yeah, but it turns you on, doesn’t it?"

"Fucking right it does." He grabbed her and tried to kiss her but she skipped out of his reach. "Aww, come on Dru. Don't I get a reward for this?"

"Maybe. Quick she’s up. Let’s see what kind of wheels she’s got."

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy looked at her watch and felt in her pocket. She dropped a pound coin on the table, wondering if it was enough for the tip, and gathered her bags. Time to get back. More work to do, then packing, then Spike was coming around for a meal. Nothing fancy, except that she’d been to the most expensive delicatessen in town and stocked up on all sorts of goodies. And not knowing what he liked, she’d bought virtually one of everything in the shop. Still, that essay needed finishing first. She groped for her keys as she approached the car park, only vaguely aware of the two youths following her.

She didn’t even see their faces. One minute she was making her way towards her car, happily planning her gourmet meal with Spike, the next she was lying on the hard concrete of the car park, her packages strewn around her, watching her beautiful car disappearing in a roar of exhaust fumes. Her hand came away wet with blood when she touched her face, but she paid it no attention. All she could think about was that she’d failed. She’d told her dad she’d be safe. That nothing was going to happen to her, all alone in a foreign country. And yet again he’d be able to say I told you so. He was right, and she was wrong. She’d completely blown it.

She heard someone calling for security as she struggled to get up, but her legs were suddenly made of rubber and wouldn’t hold her.

"Are you alright love? Let’s get you inside shall we?"

A kind voice was talking to her, but she couldn’t make out the face that went with it through her tears. She felt totally and utterly pathetic. Might as well have just handed them the keys on a plate. Like taking candy from a baby. Someone pressed a tissue to her cheek, helped her up and shepherded her back into the mall. The manager was summoned, the police called and amidst it all, Buffy sat in a daze, waiting for Spike to arrive and wondering just how the hell she was going to break this news to her dad.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike nearly broke the land speed record getting to the mall. That bloody car. It had made her a target. Should have insisted she get rid of it straight away. And they said she’d been hurt. He tried to calm himself down as he negotiated the parking space. He wanted to beat them to within an inch of their lives. They’d hurt her. Why didn’t they just take the bloody car? Why did they have to hurt her? He ran into the mall, grabbed a security guard and demanded to know where the manager’s office was. Struggled to get a grip on himself as the guard eyed him suspiciously.

"Buffy Summers, American, she’s had her car stolen." Didn’t he realise how urgent this was?

The guard nodded in understanding. "Yes, about 15 minutes ago, are you her husband?"

"No, boyfriend, where is she?"

The guard grabbed hold of Spike’s arm, obviously still a little suspicious of his agitated appearance, and led him to the manager’s office.

Spike didn’t blame him. If the car thieves had still been around, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself. He’d alarmed quite a few people with his mad dash across the mall, and you couldn’t be too careful these days. He tried to steady his breathing, he was no use to Buffy in this state.

The guard let go of his arm, and pushed the door to the manager’s office open.

"The boyfriend’s here."

The room seemed to be full of people. A policewoman taking a statement, the witness, the mall-manager. Spike didn’t see any of them. All he saw was Buffy, sitting there, looking very small, her cheek bandaged, he hands clasped in her lap. He flew across the room and grabbed her, felt her arms go around him and hold on tight. Felt her sobs as she started crying. She needed to go home now, the hell with this. He turned to the policewoman.

"I need to get her home." Buffy was still clinging to him, weeping silently. She hadn’t said anything. Had just groped for him, blindly, and she was holding on as if he’d disappear if she let go.

The policewoman nodded, checking over her notes. "We’ll have to put out an alert at all the major ports. Car like that could be out of the country within hours. Probably stolen to order." She showed Spike her notebook. "Is this Miss Summer’s address and phone number?"

Spike nodded.

"Then take her home, we may be in touch later today. Will someone be home?"

"Yeah, we’ll be there." Spike squatted down in front of Buffy. She must know he was there, but she didn’t seem to be seeing him. "Buffy, love. Shall we go home?" He fought against the rising anger as he looked at the gash on her cheek. This was the last thing Buffy needed, desperate as she was to prove that she could be independent. Could look after herself. England was a much less violent place than America, he reckoned. She should have felt safe here. He pulled her up gently and accepted her bags from the mall-manager. At least they hadn’t got her purse. Just that damned car.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy felt a strong arm around her shoulders. Someone pulling her up. She’d held herself together pretty well during the walk back to the mall, during the questioning, but now that Spike was here, she just let it all go. Felt herself falling to pieces. Knew she could because he’d pick them all up for her. All she was aware of as they walked back to his car was him. Spike was her lifeline and she wasn’t letting go the death-grip she had on his arm.

"Buffy, sweetheart."

She felt gentle fingers prying hers off.

"Let go, so I can drive us home."

Then she felt her seat belt closing, the car door slamming. A moment of panic as he disappeared. Relief as he got in the driver’s side. She reached for him again, and he pulled her over to him. It wasn’t very comfortable with the gear stick between them, but she didn’t want to be apart from him for a second. Right now she needed his strength, because she had none of her own. The thieves had taken a lot more than her car. They’d taken her dignity, her pride, her independence. They’d made her weak. An hour ago, life had been perfect. Now it wasn’t. It was this.

She felt Spike’s fingers gently tracing around the bandage. Wondered what she looked like. Didn’t dare look in the car mirror. Would she have a scar, like him? Would he find it ugly? She raised her head, and for the first time since he’d arrived she really saw him. He looked angry as he fingered the bandage. Tried for a smile when he saw her looking. Failed miserably. Then she found herself half-smiling up at him, realising that he needed reassurance that she was okay, and that only she could give it to him. And that made her feel a little better. The shock started to subside and a little bit of the strength returned.

"I’m okay Spike." She squeezed his arm as she settled back into the seat. "Just take me home."

~*~*~*~*~

Spike started up the car. She was looking a little better. Not quite as pale as she’d been when he’d first seen her. And that was a sight he never wanted to see again. His heartbeat was only just returning to normal from the shock of it all. God knows how she must be feeling. He managed a bit of a reassuring smile back to her and turned the car for home. Neither of them said anything. All they needed was for the other to be there.

When they got home, he settled her down on the couch. Found a throw in the lounge and wrapped it around her. Made them both a cup of tea and then cuddled up with her.

"You really okay, Buff?"

"No, not really." Her fingers were tracing a pattern on his thigh. "My dad’s gonna kill me."

"I can’t believe that. Cars get nicked, Buff, especially expensive sports cars. It wasn’t your fault. Anyway, insurance will cover it."

"It’s not the money, Spike." Her voice started to break again. "He told me this would happen. Told me I wouldn’t be able to look after myself. And he was right."

"No he wasn’t." Spike suddenly felt unreasonably angry with Buffy’s dad. He hadn’t even met the man, but how dare he undermine Buffy’s confidence in this way.
"You’ve done great since you’ve been here. You run this house, you’re doing really well with the course. You’re a wonderful capable woman, probably the most determined one I’ve ever met, and don’t you ever let anyone tell you otherwise. And you’ve got me. I’ll always be here for you, love."

"I’ve got to call him. Let him know what happened."

"Leave it till tomorrow, pet. Wait till the shock’s worn off." There was no way she should do this now. Too much emotional baggage as it was, by the sound of things, without the additional trauma of telling him about the car.

"No, he’d expect me to tell him right away. She leaned back against him and was quiet for a while, as if gathering up her courage.

"Spike. Would you..." She took a deep breath and tried again. "Would you make love to me first?"

Surely she didn’t mean that. It wasn’t the first thing that had sprung to his mind. Thought she’d need holding, words of comfort. Never thought she’d ask for that. And he wasn’t sure he was up to it. He was still shaking inside from the shock of that phone call. Then seeing her...

"Please Spike. It’s what I need, right now. I need to know that you love me."

"You know I love you Buffy. Haven’t I told you about a hundred times in the last few days? And it's not just about the sex. I said I’ll always be here for you."

"Oh Spike, I didn't mean it was just about sex, please don't think that. This is coming out all wrong. You said I should tell you what I want, what I need. Well, right now it's this. I want to phone him while I’m lying in bed naked with you. I want the memory of that sound you make when you come, fresh in my mind when I talk to him. I want to speak to him as a woman who has a life of her own, and a man who loves her. I don’t want to be his little girl any more. Does that make sense?"

"Kind of." He was beginning to understand where she was coming from. She needed to feel in control when she phoned her dad. It was the only way she was going to get through it. "If it's what you need, Buffy, but I don't need an excuse to make love to you, or any reason other than we both want to. You've got more courage inside you than you give yourself credit for. Do it because you want to, not because you have to."

She didn't answer him. And he realised why. God, what a prat he was. She didn't need that lecture right now. Not after everything she'd been through today. She needed his strength, not his bloody sermons.

He stood up and scooped her into his arms, and carried her effortlessly to the bedroom. They undressed each other in silence. The looks they were giving each other were more than enough to convey what they were feeling. And, far from not being up to it, one touch of her hand nearly had him coming there and then.

As he lay down on the bed and pulled her over him he thought that she had never looked so magnificent. His mind flashed back to the first time he’d imagined this scene. That night she’d fixed his head. Now it was happening for real, and it was every bit as good as he’d thought it would be. And he had a good imagination.

Even with her face bandaged up, she looked beautiful. Rising and falling above him. Leaning down to let her hair sweep across his chest, because she knew he liked that. Getting him to make those noises she wanted to remember when she made that phone call.

And she wasn’t holding back either. He heard her say his name over and over as she let herself go. Taking him with her, because right now he was her slave and he had no choice but to follow her.

And then she was making the phone call. Punching in the number. And he slipped out of bed and pulled on his jeans. Acknowledging her nod of understanding, he grabbed his shoes and tee shirt and left her to do it by herself. He’d given her what she said she needed. Only she already had it inside her. Just didn't know it. She didn't need him to hold her hand, while she did this. If he stayed, she'd never learn that. It did sound like a sermon, and he felt a bit of a coward for leaving. But he hoped she'd understand. She needed him there because she wanted him. Not just because she wanted to prove something to her dad.

He went downstairs, and let himself out of the front door. His cigarettes were in the car, and he needed one badly right now. The side gate was unlocked, so he walked round and sat down on one of the garden benches adorning her perfectly manicured garden. She was going to need to change the security codes on the garage door, at least, he thought. They’d have no trouble tracing where she lived from her registration number, and the electronic opener was probably still in the car.

He wondered who they were. Professional car thieves, or opportunistic joy-riders? He hoped it was the second. If professionals were involved, they’d probably had the car staked out for weeks, waiting for the right time. Probably been following her around, knew where she lived. It was a scary thought. Didn’t do to bring yourself to the attention of those sorts.

He was on his second cigarette when she came out. Wearing his sweatshirt, the sleeves pulled down over her hands. Her body language told him all he needed to know. He threw the cigarette down and crushed it underfoot. Rose to meet her.

She just stood there, looking so much like a little girl. Hugging her arms around herself.

"How did it go?" He didn’t really need to ask. She opened her mouth to speak. Closed it again, shut her eyes. And when she opened them, she said the words he’d been dreading to hear.

"He says I’ve got to come home."

Chapter 19

Buffy walked over to Spike, slid her arms around his waist and leaned her uninjured cheek against his chest. It had all been too good to be true. This wonderful feeling that something real was happening in her life at last. Spike saying he loved her. Her loving him back. Those things were real, but they weren’t going to get a chance to find out how real. All her plans, hopes and dreams for this year, and beyond, had come crashing down on her in just a few short hours.

The last time her life had turned around this dramatically had been when her mom had died, but then she’d been a child. It had hurt, and she’d missed her like crazy, but although she’d never forgotten her, she’d grown into a new life with her father at the centre, and bounced back. Now she was an adult. She didn’t think like a child any more. She understood how these things hurt, and she couldn’t see how she was ever going to bounce back from this. Better to shut down now. The longer she kept loving him, the more it was going to hurt when she left.

And she had no choice but to leave. Her father had made that very clear. Her being in England was just too much for him to worry about. He’d been frantic during the call, wanted to jump on the first plane over and take her straight back with him. She was everything to him. Especially since her mom had died. And hadn’t he always looked after her? Would always look after her.

And of course she loved her father, and didn’t want to hurt him. She had a good life waiting for her back in the States, and her father had been the kindest, nicest dad she could have hoped for. Everything he’d done had been out of love and concern for her. How could she repay him by breaking his heart? Better that she suffered. She couldn’t do that to him.

And then there was Spike. The best thing that had ever happened to her. It was going to hurt him too. This was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike held on to her as her words sank in. Leaving? She couldn’t leave him, not now. She was an adult, able to make up her own mind, surely her father couldn’t force her to go if she didn’t want to?

"Let’s go back inside Buffy, you’re shivering, then you can tell me what he said. If you want to that is." He looked down into her face. "Okay?"

She nodded and allowed herself to be led back inside. They both stood in the kitchen, neither of them speaking. Spike remembered what he’d said only a few nights ago, about her going back to the States at the end of the year, and how she’d changed the subject. It had seemed too far in the future to worry about then, but now? It was happening.

No, dammit, it wasn’t. Not if he had anything to do with it.

"So, what did he say?"

Buffy’s voice was hardly there as she spoke. "He wants me back right away. He’s really worried about me. Seems to think I’m going to get kidnapped or something."

"And are you?"

"I don’t know." She half shouted it, then immediately looked contrite. "Spike, I...

"Hey, come here." He held his arms out to her, but she didn’t move so he went to her and pulled her to him. She was so tense, she was shaking with it. He rubbed a hand up and down her back, spoke soothingly to her, but he couldn’t get her to relax. Couldn’t get her to sit down. So he picked her up and carried her into the television room. She lay stiffly in his arms as he sat down with her on his lap. Almost pulling away from him. And he couldn’t bear it.

"Buffy, love, look at me. Don’t do this. Don’t let him do this to us." She didn’t give any indication she’d heard. "Please, Buffy, look at me."

She turned to him and he saw something that frightened him. She was already going away, distancing herself. What the hell had her dad said to her?

"Buffy, love, you’re scaring me. You’re not really going, are you?"

"I don’t have a choice, Spike." She spoke almost mechanically. "Dad was right, I can’t look after myself." She pointed to her cheek. "Look at me."

"Bloody bollocks." He was getting angry now. "Your dad snaps his fingers, and you go running. What about me? You told me you loved me. What was that all about?"

"It was all about..." She gave a great choking sob and buried her face in her hands, and for a few moment he just sat and watched her cry.

"I meant it Buffy, when I said I loved you."

She lifted her head. "And you think I didn’t?"

"No, Buffy, I thought you did. That’s why I can’t understand this." He waved his hand uselessly in the air. He wasn’t getting through to her. "How can you shut me out, just like that?"

"I’m not...I’ve got to don’t you see?"

"No, I don’t. What? You stop loving me, just like that? I don’t believe you."

She made to stand up, but he pulled her down. "You’re not going anywhere until you look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me. Say it Buffy." She strained away from him, but he held her tight. She wasn’t just going to walk away from this, just because of some stupid notion that she had no free will of her own. Her father didn’t own her, why couldn’t she see that?

At least she wasn’t saying it. She wasn’t looking at him, but she hadn’t said she didn’t love him either. He’d get through to her even if he had to tie her up to make her listen. He couldn’t believe that this was the same girl who had been moaning his name in ecstasy, not half an hour ago.

"Listen Buffy." He held her by her arms, half facing him, realising this was the best he was going to get. "I’m going to talk, then you are. Then if you want me to, I’ll walk out that door, and you can go back to the States to whatever it is that’s so important to you there. Deal?"

She gave a very small nod. The only indication that she was listening.

"Right." He took a breath to steady himself. "I’m going to let go of you now. You won’t run away will you?" She shook her head, so he loosened his hold. "Right." What could he say? Plead with her, beg her. He only knew that he wanted her here, with him, and that it would break his heart if she wasn’t here. How did he tell her that? How did he make it sound right?

"Buffy, when I got that phone call this afternoon, and they said you’d been hurt I... Well, the last time I felt anything like that was when my mum died. And I don’t say this lightly, Buffy. I’m not using it as emotional blackmail, it’s just the truth. She died right in front of me, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. But somehow I felt I should have been able to do something. I was only ten, and it was a long time before I realised that it wasn’t my fault."

Buffy slowly lifted her head as he spoke, her eyes growing wide. He took another breath and continued. "That’s how I felt this afternoon, when I saw you. I felt like it was my fault. That I should have been there to protect you. That I should have been able to do something about it, but I didn’t."

"But it wasn’t your fault, Spike." She looked a little dazed. "How can it be your fault?"

"I know that. It’s just how I feel about it, do you understand?"

"I think so." She was relaxing just a little. Not holding herself so stiffly. He hadn’t wanted to say that. Not emotional blackmail? Who was he kidding. But it was deep, personal stuff. She had to know what it meant for him to say it. He didn’t talk about his mum’s death to anyone. Not even his dad.

He could feel her coming back, leaning in to him. Ever so slightly.

"That’s all I have to say, Buffy. It’s your turn now."

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy turned and looked at him properly, for the first time since she’d made the phone call. This was Spike, the man she’d said she loved. The only man she’d ever had sex with. Who’d made her feel stuff she’d never felt before. He didn’t deserve what she was doing to him. And that was her punishment, she realised. For the rest of her life, she’d carry this around with her.

He was gazing back at her, expectantly, a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes, thinking he’d changed her mind. Didn’t he know that she wanted to stay with all her heart? Didn’t he realise that she couldn’t? She leaned towards him and kissed him on the lips. A small, sweet kiss, then she slid off his lap and moved to the other end of the couch. The glimmer of hope faded from his eyes as she left him.

"Was that goodbye?"

"Shh, Spike, it’s my turn, remember?" Where to begin?

"This thing that happened this afternoon. It scared me, made me realise some things. But I still don’t see how you could think it was your fault." She nodded her head, indicating she wanted an answer.

"Human nature, Buff. I love you, so I want to keep you safe. Just like your dad. Bet he’s feeling much like I do at the moment."

Buffy thought about it for a moment. He was good at this stuff. Always seemed to know the right thing to say. "Okay, I get that. But when I was waiting for you to fetch me, take me home, I was doing just that. Waiting for you to come and look after me."

"Like you looked after me when Angelus cracked me with that bottle. That’s okay too, Buff, it doesn’t make you weak. The important thing is what you do next."

What she did next? Her whole life hinged on what she did next.

"I feel like I’m being forced to make a terrible choice. If I stay here with you, then I’ll destroy my dad. And that won’t make any of us happy. I owe him everything, Spike. Since mom died, I’ve been his whole world. He has hopes for me, expectations. This, coming to England, was just a detour in the plan. That’s why he agreed to it. I’ll always be his little girl, Spike. Nothing’s changed."

Spike stood up abruptly, stared at her for a few seconds, then walked out of the room. It took the slamming of the front door to rouse her into action. He’d gone, and she hadn’t finished talking. The hell with that. He’d had his say. She jumped up and ran after him, catching him just as he was getting into his car. It had started raining, but this time she didn’t notice. He was leaving her, and she hadn’t explained anything to him yet. She had to let him know why she was doing this. How much it was hurting her.

She reached for his hand as he moved to unlock the car door. "Spike, you didn’t let me finish."

He took a deep breath and turned to face her. "Because I didn’t like what I was hearing."

"Some things are hard to listen to."

"Yeah, especially that crap." He shook her hand off. "Made me want to throw up."

She took a step back. He’d never spoken to her like this before. Nobody spoke to her like this.

"You’re asking me to choose, between you and my dad, and it’s not fair, Spike."

The rain was hammering down in earnest now, soaking them both. Buffy wiped it off her face as it dripped off her hair. "Do you think this is easy for me, Spike?"

"Is that the way you see this? Either or, black and white? You’ve got some serious growing up to do. After all the things we’ve done together, in bed, on the bathroom floor, you can honestly stand there and still call yourself his little girl. You’re long past that Buffy."

Buffy felt herself colouring as he spoke. These were precious memories, how could he speak of them in such a callous fashion? Then he grabbed her elbows, and held her still.

"I’m fed up of always being the one who says the right things, Buffy. You know, both you and Xander have called me a saint in the last few days. Well I’m not. I’m not trying to manipulate you into anything, and I’m sorry you see it that way. I just thought we could be two grown-ups doing what grown-ups do. I didn’t think I’d have to go to bed with your dad too."

"Then what was all that stuff about your mum? Wasn’t that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?"

The moment the words came out, she knew it was totally and utterly the very worst thing she could have said. He let go of her elbows abruptly.

"Well, I wish I hadn’t said it then." He spoke calmly and quietly. "Goodbye Buffy." Then he opened his car door and tried to get inside.

"No." She pulled at his sleeve, but he shook her off, slid in and slammed the door. As he put the keys in the ignition she ran round to the other side and managed to get the passenger door open. She jumped in just as he was starting to back off the drive, and was jolted against the seat as he slammed on the brakes.

"You stupid..." A strong arm grabbed her and pulled her in as the momentum caused the car door to slam. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Reckon so." His face was wet. Rain or tears, she couldn’t tell.

He turned away from her, put his hands on the steering wheel and closed his eyes. "Go inside Buffy, you’re soaked."

"So are you." How the hell did she put this right? She placed her hand tentatively over his, feeling his muscles flinch as she did so. The words she said next were going to be the most important ones she’d ever uttered. But would he want to hear them?

~*~*~*~*~

Spike kept his eyes tightly shut. If he looked at her he was going to cry, and he’d made enough of a prat of himself already. He felt her hand cover his, wished she’d get out of the car so he could go home. Hoped she wouldn’t. Wished he’d never met her. Glad he had. He didn’t know what to feel.

Then she was talking, and he had no choice but to listen, because she was Buffy and she’d throw herself under the car to make him listen if she had to. He gave a dry little laugh and dropped his head to the steering wheel. He’d said some cruel things to her, but she’d given as good as she’d got. And he deserved it. Should never have brought his mum into it. Those memories still brought out the worst in him.

"Spike, are you listening?"

He gave a slight nod in reply. Done with talking, and he had no idea what she was going to say. Still didn’t know if she was leaving him or not. Everything hung in the balance.

"Don’t interrupt me. I want to say all of this. Then if you still think I’m talking a load of crap, I’ll get out of the car and let you drive away. Deal?"

He nodded again. The tension was killing him. He was love’s biggest bitch right now. The way she’d jumped in the car...If she said she wanted him now, god-help-him, he’d follow her back into the house like a puppy, with his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out. She had no idea how much she held his life in her hands right now.

~*~*~*~*~

"I thought I had grown up, Spike. Yeah, I had a few doubts along the way, but I thought I was getting there. When I went to that club wearing that top . . . Well, it was a stupid thing to do, but there was a point in the evening when I had the whole rugby club eating out of my hand. They were all looking at me. It made me feel really powerful. Then when I fixed your head, that’s when I decided I wanted you."

Spike opened his eyes and looked sideways at her.

"Yeah, didn’t quite go according to plan though, did it? But we got there in the end. Then when you made love to me, I thought that qualified pretty high in the growing up stakes. Buffy Summers is no longer a virgin. I wanted to run home and tell everyone. I’ve grown up at last, I’m one of you now."

He was still gazing at her quietly, as a few stray tears tracked down his cheeks and she reached over and wiped them off with her finger. "Are these tears for me Spike? Because I don’t deserve them." She placed a finger over his mouth as he opened it to say something. "It’s true Spike. I’ve been so stupid. Couldn’t see what was under my nose. Thought growing up was about doing naughty things in hot-tubs, wearing trashy clothes."

Spike managed a bit of a smile. "Hot tubs are good."

"Yeah, but growing up is more about this isn’t it? Commitment, and letting go. What does it say in the bible - something about putting away childish things. I love my dad, but he’ll survive without me. I want to stay here, with you Spike. If you still want me to, that is."

She stopped and took a deep breath. He’d listened, like he always did, let her have her say. She didn’t know what else to say. Except for one more thing. "I’m sorry about your mom. I do know how you feel about that, which makes what I said even worse."

"Have I said enough to put this right, Spike?"

There was an agonising spilt-second of a wait before he reached for her and pulled her against him. He buried his face in her shoulder and his voice was so muffled that she could hardly hear what he said.

"Yes, Buffy, you have, please stay." He looked at her then, his eyes shining with tears, relief written all over his face. "And your hair’s wet." He lifted one of the lank strands and curled it round his finger. "That’s why I wasn’t that worried."

"No?" She raised her eyebrows in mock disbelief. "How’s that?"

"Well, I reckoned you had to be serious if you were willing to stand there in the rain and get your hair wet. You wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t cared."

"Oh Spike . . . I do care." She flung herself back on him, holding him tight. Pressing her damaged cheek against his face, but hardly feeling it. "You’ll never know how much I care for you."

"But you’re gonna keep telling me . . . right?"

"I reckon so."

They sat and held each other. Neither of them speaking. She'd said commitment, and she'd meant it. And he hadn't flinched. Had just accepted it. Now she really was starting to understand what love was all about. She gave him an extra hard hug and he pulled back a little.

"Hey, watch your cheek, Buffy." He gently caressed the side of her face. "Is it sore?"

"A little, but I'll survive. Are you coming back in?"

"No."

"Spike?" Her heart did a little double take.

"Relax Buffy. You go get some things and come over to my flat."

She squeezed his hand and nodded in understanding. Right now they both needed to distance themselves from this place. He didn’t need the spectre of her dad hanging over everything they did. She ran into the house, up to her bedroom and threw a few clothes and toiletries into a bag. Before she left, she switched on her computer and logged on to her e-mail, clicked new message and wrote:

As she hit send, she felt the weight of the world lifting from her shoulders. She logged off, and went downstairs to join Spike. Maybe she still had a lot to learn, but she was getting there.

~*~*~*~*~

Across the Atlantic, a good looking, middle-aged man reached for his computer mouse and scrolled down to the new message. What the hell was he going to do about Buffy? He missed her like mad, but dragging her home? Was it the right thing too do? Perhaps the kidnapping thing had been a bit much, but she had to know how much he worried about her. She’d refused to have any sort of personal security around her, and look where it had got her. There was no option. She had to come home. She had a life here. No shortage of eligible, rich men who would give her the life she had come to expect.

He opened the message and his eyes narrowed as he read it. It was so like her. And he was never one to walk away from a challenge.

"Joyce, would you come in here for a moment." He clicked off the intercom and leaned back into his plush leather chair, waiting for his secretary to arrive.

"Can I get you something, Hank?" She popped her head around his office door, a sheaf of papers in her hand.

"Yes Joyce. Book me onto the first available flight to London. And go out and get me a bottle of that perfume that Buffy likes." He reached into his jacket pocket and took out his wallet. "And one for yourself of course." He winked at her as he handed her the money, holding it just out of reach. As she went to take it from him, he grabbed her hand and pulled her on to his lap.

"I’m going to be away for a few days, sorting out my wayward daughter." His finger trailed along the top of her breasts. "So hurry back. Need to say a proper goodbye."

Joyce dropped her papers onto his desk, and turned her attention back to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Buffy’s a big girl, Hank. She doesn’t need you breathing down her neck. She’s got her own life, and so have you. You've got to let her get on with it, she's nineteen you know. Hardly a baby."

She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. "You’ve got the two of us to worry about now, so don’t stay too long, we’re gonna miss you."

He patted her stomach, proudly. "Yeah, gonna miss you both, too. But you've got to understand about Buffy. I probably have overdone the protective father act, that's why I'm so worried about her. We were hard on her because she was so headstrong." He smiled at the memories. "You wouldn't believe some of the things she got up to. We were so terrified she was going to end up hurt or something, that we went to the other extreme and didn't let her do anything. Guess that's why she needed to get away. But I can't help it. She'll always be my little girl, Joyce. I've got to bring her home."

~*~*~*~*~

Drusilla stood up as Johnny walked into the pub.

"So, what do you think Johnny? Didn’t I do well?"

He slipped an arm around her shoulder and air-kissed her cheek.
"You’re a good girl Dru, she’s a beauty."

Dru held on to his arm as he went to sit down. "Does this mean I can play with the big boys now? You promised."

Johnny removed her arm and sat himself down, patting the seat beside him. She scurried to sit down, excitement written all over her face.

"Oh, please Johnny. That other stuff, it’s crap, doesn’t do anything."

He took out his wallet and handed a ten pound note to Dru’s friend. "Go get some drinks." The youth scurried off and Johnny turned back to Dru. "Listen darlin’, you really don’t want to get into that stuff. Never wanted that for you."

"But you said." Dru sidled up to him and ran her hand up his arm. "Car like that, what’s it worth? Forty, fifty thousand quid. Gonna make you a nice profit. Gotta be worth something for me. Huh?"

Johnny looked at her for a couple of seconds, then he removed her arm and picked up his cigarettes. "Okay Dru, but it’s on your own head. Don’t come running back to me when you can’t handle it."

"I can handle it, don’t worry about me. I only want to try it a couple of times, see what it’s like. I’ll stop if it’s bad."

Johnny lit up his cigarette and blew out a long plume of smoke. "That’s what they all say. Okay," he fished a pen out of his pocket and reached for a beer mat. "Here’s the address, tomorrow evening, after nine. Tell them I sent you. And Dru..."

She looked up from the beer mat she was reading, "Yeah?"

Johnny patted her on the shoulder. "You’ve done good."

Next