¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

Every time I see you

Oh, I try to hide away

But when we meet it seems I can’t let go

Every time you leave the room

I feel I’m fading like a flower

-Roxette, Fading Like a Flower-

¤

Lesson the Eleventh

¤

She shivered in the chilled evening air.

Looking up the sky was lit with stars and she smiled to herself, wandering into the garden and tilting her head back as far as she could as she took the glory of it all in.

She felt a tingle down her back and her smile widened slightly. It had been a while since she had felt it this strongly, because he seemed to always be close. Perhaps because she had tried so hard to focus her energy away from him, it now appeared in its original force again.

“You should stay in there,” she said, not taking her eyes off the skies above. “You’re the life of the party,” she added and she could hear him chuckle as he approached her.

“The life of the party just left it,” he replied. “And trust me, it wasn’t me.”

He stopped beside her and she moved her head to look at him. Why was it – if they weren’t meant to be together – that she found herself so lost in him? So utterly devoured in him. Even like they were now, standing two feet apart, it was as though everything melted into oblivion and she felt good about everything. It all lifted, the anxiety, the stress, the constant twisting and turning of scenarios dealing with pending battles in her mind. Nothing mattered but them. Him and her. And that very moment.

“You think too little of them,” he said and she huffed, then grew serious.

“I know,” she mumbled. “I just think of my first year... The Master killed me then, you know? I’ve been training for over eight years, and I’m still not as good as I know I can be.”

“You think too little of yourself!” he interrupted gently. “You have to step back now. Remember Sunnydale? You lead them at the end, but you pushed them too hard up until then. You have to let them live, if you expect them to be ready to die.”

She felt tears rising and she swallowed hard, looking away from him and then turning, beginning to walk. He slowly followed.

“We’re down to two sights,” she murmured. “And soon it’s November. What date did you say the dragon would wake, again? Was it closer to Christmas than New Years? Because I was thinking...”

He stopped her by grabbing her arm loosely and making her look at him. He shook his head.

“Don’t think about it, just for now. It’s your night off, remember? Enjoy it,” he said and she smiled.

“Unless there are any rebels out there, up for disturbing the peace,” she remarked and he smiled back, letting her go.

They commenced walking and a relaxed silence rested between them. When Buffy put her arms around herself, shuddering slightly in the October air, Spike didn’t think twice about it and she soon found his duster hanging about her shoulders. She looked at it and then at him before smiling. He returned it and she stopped.

“Spike,” she said, hesitantly and he met her gaze, questioningly. “There’s this... thing, that I’ve been thinking about for... a while, I guess. I need to ask you something, and believe me I’m totally fine if you say that... I dunno, that you don’t... want to or something, but... I mean, we’re both adults here, right?” He cocked an eyebrow and she smiled nervously. “Right! And so, there shouldn’t be any trouble just... asking. And answering.”

He nodded his agreement, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t he said:

“This answering gig works a lot better for me if I know what the asking would sound like.”

She smiled again, nodding.

“’Course,” she replied. “But I’m not sure how to phrase it so it doesn’t sound... stupid.”

He stopped and she did as well.

“Buffy,” he said. “Whatever it is it’s not gonna sound stupid. ‘Adults’ I believe was the word.”

The smile was there again and he observed her with growing curiosity. What could she possibly wish to know so badly that it made her heart beat about five times its normal pace?

She tried to calm down, but as she looked into his eyes the words began to lump together in her throat and she suddenly began to grow horrified at the thought of actually bursting into tears before him, asking him why he didn’t feel the way about her that he always had before. What had changed it? Why had he decided that he didn’t want it anymore? That he didn’t want her.

She blinked, then shook her head a little to clear her mind, smiling a half smile as she contemplated what she should say instead.

“Could I...? Would it be alright if I...?” He observed her as she seemed to not be able to find how to ask what she wanted to ask, and then they both smiled, hers was self-conscious. “I’d love to come visit you in Los Angeles, if that’d be alright with you?” she finally got out and he eyed her for a long moment before he said:

“That wasn’t what you wanted to ask me.”

Buffy put on an uncomprehending expression.

“Yes, it was.”

He raised his eyebrows and she fought hard to keep her heart from beginning to beat harder again, as it had just now slowed to a more normal pace. His gaze was unnerving enough to make the muscle freak out and she turned from him, beginning to walk again. He watched her go, immobile for a second and then he started up as well. Joining her by her side he looked at her, quite able to tell that whatever had been on her mind a minute ago, was now being pushed back to its farthest reaches and he probably did best at not trying to pry them back out in the open.

“You warmer?” he therefore changed the topic.

“Getting there,” she answered.

They grew quiet once more.

“I keep thinking...” he began and she turned her head to him as he trailed off.

“What?” she urged.

“I keep thinking of other Halloweens... Of Sunnydale and... old times,” he mumbled and she smiled slightly.

“Good times?” she asked softly and he met her gaze, smiling a small smile as well.

“Mostly,” he said.

Her smile widened before she giggled.

“Yeah,” she nodded and he laughed. “God, we were off for a bumpy ride straight from the get-go,” she stated, ironically. “Figures we didn’t see it coming, huh?”

They looked at each other once again, then both grew serious as they looked away.

“Would you wanna go back?” he wondered and she looked questioning. “You know – change it?”

“Change what?” she asked, making him smirk slightly. “We’re here because of everything that happened over those years,” she continued, stopping and facing him as he did the same. “I am who I am thanks to all of it. So, no, there’s nothing I’d wanna change, take back, rearrange or wipe out,” she finished and he cocked an eyebrow at her rather upset tone. “Why?” she then asked. “Is there anything you would?”

He squinted a little, tilting his head to the side as he observed her closely and she didn’t waver for a second as she met his gaze.

“I can think of a few things,” he mumbled and she raised her eyebrows. “Violating you... would be the first,” he added and she blinked, then looked away.

“Spike,” she said, voice filled with emotion and his heart began to ache with the need to make certain that she knew how badly he regretted every single thing he had done that might have harmed her – and even more those that he knew had.

When she turned her eyes in his again, he suddenly realized that she did know.

“You’ve made amends,” she stated gently. “Don’t... think about it.”

He smiled tentatively at that.

“I always think about it,” he said, voice low and she looked at him attentively as the blue in his eyes began to fill with clear frailty. “All of it. You know I do. It’s part of the curse... and salvation,” he muttered and she reached out a hand, letting it slide into his before taking a careful hold, meeting his gaze firmly.

“I know,” she then affirmed and he held her hand back as he stared into her eyes, feeling a serenity fill him at the understanding resting there. “I’m just asking you to try. Enjoy the evening with me... It’s your night off too... remember?”

He smiled another small smile at that, then gave a short nod.

Two girls broke through the leaves of the nearby trees, giggling but halting as their eyes fell on the two others. They were still smiling, though – one of them being Gabbi.

“Oh, there you are!” she said, eyes in Spike’s. “We’ve been looking for you,” she added, glancing at the Vamp’s and Slayer’s hands still locked together.

Buffy noticed it and reluctantly let go.

“Yeah, what’re you doin’ out here, huh?” the other slayer asked, one that Buffy didn’t recognize. “The party’s happening and you’re hoverin’ in the bushes? Come on! Come inside! Come dance!”

“Eh...” Gabbi said, looking from one to the other and then turning her slightly tipsy colleague around as she added: “I think WE’D better take that advice, Katie. Let these two make the call for themselves.”

“Duh! We’re outside! There are no phones!” Katie replied, then giggled at her own joke as she was led away by her friend.

Buffy watched them go, turning her eyes back in Spike’s and both of them smiling at the same time.

“God, don’t tell me I ever acted like that,” she sighed and he smirked.

“No,” he then assured. “Never.”

Slow music began to drift from the open terrace doors, filing through the trees and reaching the two.

They glanced at each other, suddenly insecure as they both hesitated. Buffy smiled a little and he returned it.

“Wanna...?” he began, but she replied before he had a chance to finish.

“Okay,” she said and he smiled again.

Neither really knew where to proceed from there, both tentatively stepping forward.

Okay, Buffy thought, biting the inside of her cheek and taking in a slightly shaky breath as she moved her hands up, hesitating before putting them against his chest. Slipping them up to his shoulders she then put them behind his neck as she stepped into him. Tilting her head back she looked up at him and he rested his eyes in hers as his hands moved over her hips and to the small of her back. As they pressed her to him she nearly lost her balance and stepped on his foot.

“Sorry,” she apologized, smiling widely and he returned it.

“Think I even felt it?” he asked, and for a moment she wondered if he meant due to his paranormal ability to take pain... or because she was in his arms.

Way to go with the confidence, she thought, but had to admit that the idea felt strangely soothing to her nerves; that she might be affecting him too, after all.

He put his chin by the side of her brow and she closed her eyes, moving her head forward and resting it against his shoulder. Their embrace tightened for no real reason and their slow dance grew even slower. The duster lost its grip on her shoulders and slipped to the ground. She pulled back, looking down at it and then up at him, the tips of their noses gently touching and she carefully cocked her head a little to one side, practically begging him to let his lips touch hers – if so only briefly.

“Buffy!” Willow’s voice called.

Not... now, the Slayer thought, trying with every fiber to reach out the request to the Wicca. Please, not now.

Spike swallowed, staring into those two orbs of pure green and the silent invitation apparent in them. As their lips were two thirds of a second away from brushing the others Willow rounded the tree blocking the view of the house. Spike turned his head away from Buffy, who closed her eyes in disappointment before standing back and turning her gaze on the redhead as well. Willow stopped, her eyes widening slightly.

“Oh... I’m sorry,” she said. “I seem to be doing this lately – interrupting when...”

“...people are dancing?” Buffy filled in as she and Spike let each other go.

Willow stared at her, then she nodded.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Dancing. I just wanted to say that it’s time to eat.”

“Okay,” Buffy said.

She reached down and picked up the duster, shaking it out and brushing it off before handing it to Spike with a smile of thanks. Then she wrapped her arms around herself and walked passed Willow and toward the house.

Spike slowly followed, pulling the duster on. Willow soon walked beside him and they continued into the house in silence, though Spike thought the Wicca had the oddest hint of a smile on.

¤¤¤

“Oh, my God – I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired,” Dawn moaned, lying sprawled on the couch and having the other habitants of the house surrounding her in chairs, armchairs and on the floor. It was close to four and the last guests hadn’t cleared out until ten minutes earlier.

“Everyone in favor for making with the cleaning TOMORROW – say ‘ay’,” Buffy said and everyone let hear agreeing grumbles to that. “I heard no ‘ay’s,” the Slayer pointed out and received a couch cushion in the head from her little sister.

Giles rose from the chair he had been slumped in, swallowing the last of his brandy and putting the glass down determinedly.

“I’m off to bed,” he said, kissing Dawn on top of her head as he walked passed the couch.

“Wait,” she pleaded, “carry me with you!”

Giles merely smiled at that before exiting the room. Dawn groaned, struggling to her feet and being met by an equally exhausted Willow. The two leaned against each other, saying good night and leaving the room as well.

“I guess...” Angel said, getting to his feet and Buffy looked up at him where she sat on the floor, leaned against the couch.

She sighed, nodded and reached out a hand for him to help her to her feet.

“You coming?” she then asked Spike, who was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, now hosting only a few still glowing coals.

“No,” he replied. “I think I’ll sit here for a while. Enjoy the quiet.”

She gave him a smile and then walked with Angel to the door. She wanted to stay, but didn’t feel like being absolutely obvious and changing her mind right there on the spot. Walking up the stairs she talked silently with Angel about the party and the slayers and what impression they had given him.

“They’re strong,” he stated. “It’s pretty intimidating – even when I know I’m not in any danger – to be in a room where one side of me is screaming ‘get out, get the hell out as fast as you can’ about once a minute,” he added and she smirked at that.

“Is that the feeling you get around me too?” she asked and he smiled back, shaking his head.

“I think they’re more ready than you wish to let yourself believe,” he said. “They’re slayers, Buffy. They’re not potentials.”

“I know,” she grumbled. “I know! I’m just... lacking the faith, I guess. I’ll find it. I do believe in them, I’m simply a little... worried, that’s all.”

He smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek before walking on to his own bedroom door. She slipped into hers, telling herself that it was better that she left the bleached blonde alone for tonight, that she really didn’t need to trot back downstairs and disturb his enjoying-of-the-quiet! That it wasn’t her place.

So, she changed into a nightgown, washed off her make-up, smeared her best- smelling lotion on, brushed her hair, checked herself in the mirror and then simply went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. That wasn’t disturbing him, that was doing something for herself. And she couldn’t get it in the bathroom either, because the glass she had there was dirty and she really wanted a clean one.

And I won’t even pop my head in there, she thought as she sneaked down the stairs to the hall. He won’t even know I’m here.

She straightened out the silk of the garment she had on and then walked through the doorway of the den and further into the kitchen, where she stopped, since he was there.

He glanced up at her from the newspaper he had spread out on the island, then looked back down and she didn’t know whether to turn and run back upstairs or shrink herself into the smallest little person on the face of the earth, because she couldn’t move forward since it was as though her feet were stuck to the wooden boards of the floor. The fact that he seemed to take no notice whatsoever to the way she was dressed made her feel awfully small as it was and then she got a hold on herself.

Spike, however, was barely able to get a hold on HIMself. She always had been breathtaking, but showing up dressed in virtually nothing – now that was plain mean. A desire he hadn’t felt in a pretty long time was spreading its fire through him and with it came memories of long, lustful and pleasure-bound nights that had seemed to last forever. He focused the images away, but was still afraid of what another mere glance at her might do to him.

Walking up to the sink she now retrieved a glass and filled it with water, keeping her eyes from wandering to where he was standing to her right and then gulping the liquid down quickly. She put the glass in the sink, turned off the water and then proceeded to walk out of the room again when he said:

“When do you wanna come?”

She stopped, looking at him quizzically and he met her gaze as he closed the paper.

“Visit,” he elaborated and the pieces fell into place.

“Right – visit,” she nodded. “I don’t know. When would be a good time for you?”

“For Angel and I ‘you’, or for just me ‘you’?” he asked and she swallowed.

“You... and him... Both... of what you said,” she answered and he came around the island to stand before her.

“I guess we should do it before Christmas... if all hell is ‘bout to break loose I guess you’ll be in the first row. Us too,” he stated and she smiled meekly, then crossed her arms over her chest and nodded.

“Yes, so before Christmas,” she said. “Mid-November...?”

“You keep this up we’ll not be free of each other more than a few weeks at a time,” he replied, a smile being born on his lips and she returned it.

“I’m thinking practicality here. We’ll need to prepare if we’re gonna face the dragon and the more time I have to plan our way of attack with you guys, the better,” she stated and he cocked an eyebrow.

“So, all shop? That’s why you wanna come to L.A.?” he asked and she watched him for a moment before her gaze softened.

“No,” she then answered. “I wanna see your apartment and everything. I wanna see you, and Angel. You were right, we all have to live if we’re supposed to be ready to die,” she added and he held her gaze for a stretched out few seconds before he smiled slightly.

“Mid-November it is,” he said and she smiled back.

For a moment both their minds wandered back to the two kisses they had almost shared not many hours earlier and their eyes seemed to tell it as they held the others – and then both looked away. Buffy smiling again, shaking her head at herself and at the idiocy of the situation.

Here was a man who had done things to her – with her – that had involved her body heaved in sweat and his hands scouring every last millimeter of it, and yet she somehow felt more naked when he looked into her eyes that way than she ever had back then.

“Well,” she mumbled, looking at him once more. “’Night,” she added.

“’Night,” he agreed and she turned, walking out of the room and grudgingly continuing back up to her bedroom.

¤¤¤

The following evening she watched as Angel and Spike brought their luggage down into the hall. She was seated in an armchair in front of the TV and turning her head to her right enabled her clear view of the room in question. She had a small pout come onto her mouth as she glared at the packed bags and felt a slight panic in the middle of her chest at the thought of them leaving. Of him leaving. If she could only find some good reason for them to stay. They now came into the living room and Giles rose, extending a hand and shaking it with both of them.

Buffy looked at them with rising denial.

If she didn’t say goodbye, perhaps they wouldn’t go.

Then she smiled as though everything was fine when Angel came up to her. Unwillingly she got to her feet and embraced him tenderly. He smiled as she wouldn’t let him go and then he reminded they’d see each other soon enough again.

She felt the sadness bloom as she turned her eyes in Spike’s. He tried a smile and she could barely return it as her throat was beginning to strain from held back tears.

He wasn’t sure of what to do, but in light of the few moments they had shared over the stay he thought it would be okay for him to give her a hug. As he stepped up to her he listened to the soft thumping of her heart and then her eyes were glazed with a layer of glistening salt as she took the step dividing them and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly.

She buried her face against his collarbone and bit the inside of her cheek hard not to let the emotions get complete control over her. He held her to him.

“Two weeks, love,” he said softly. “’S not very long. We’ll be waiting for you.”

But I want YOU to be waiting for me! I want YOU to be willing to wait with me HERE ‘til it’s time for me to...

She interrupted her train of thought, clenching her jaws together. This wouldn’t do, she couldn’t lose her head like this. She steadied herself and pulled back, meeting his gaze again and smiling a little as she nodded.

“Till then,” she mumbled, stepping back and away from the nearness of him.

He gave a nod as well, then turned and walked out to join Angel in the hall.

“You sure we can borrow it?” the dark haired asked, holding the keys to the BMW and Giles nodded.

“You need it more than we do,” he replied.

“Mighty descent of you, Rupert,” Spike said with a smirk, grabbing his bag and giving the other a pat on the back before glancing back at Buffy.

She smiled again and he smiled back before proceeding out through the front door.

Buffy stood still until the door closed and then she sat back down, blinking back the tears in sudden irritation. It was as though she was mourning them, when she knew she’d see them again! It was laughable. And yet, she felt like she wouldn’t laugh for a long time.

Or, at least, for two weeks.

“I’m gonna miss them,” Dawn sighed and Buffy nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m really gonna miss them too.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

You don’t remember me, but I remember you

I lie awake and try so hard not to think of you

I believe in you

I’ll give up everything just to find you

I have to be with you

To live, to breathe

You’re taking over me

Have you forgotten all I know and all we had

You saw me mourning my love for you

And touched my hand

I knew you loved me then

-Evanescence, Taking Over Me-

¤

Lesson the Twelfth

¤

She had been able to keep herself busy. Research, training with the other slayers, patrolling, more research – all of it took up a lot of the time she had feared would drive her crazy. She had spoken with Angel on the phone, but only briefly with Spike. For some reason, every time she felt compelled to call him, something stopped her. Perhaps it was good, wholesome fear of actually beginning to remember how much she missed talking to him and that that would then spur her into a state of utter despair and loneliness.

She had become familiar with the more dramatic sides to her over the passed few months. The scenarios her mind painted up for her where Spike was knocking at the door at three in the morning telling her how he simply HAD to see her, where Spike was in the arms of her... and she in his, where Spike had planned a romantic dinner, getaway, road trip, weekend, whatever – where he could tell her how much he still...

Willow walking in through the open door of the Slayer’s bedroom interrupted her thoughts and she smiled as she put another top into the suitcase. She was packing, and was almost done.

“Can you believe it?” she asked her friend as the latter stopped before her. “It only took me half an hour to plan what to take with me. Of course, it took me two hours to narrow the list down to what I could actually bring, but...”

“I just talked to Angel,” Willow cut her off and Buffy had a ball of ice in her stomach at the thought of bad news. The look on the redheads face told her that there were no good to be had.

“Why’d he call?” she asked lightly, rearranging the top stack of clothes in the suitcase in front of her and wishing not to have to hear what the other would reply.

“Something’s come up,” Willow said. “They have to fly to Acapulco tonight... They’ll probably need to go to Australia after that and... They’ll be gone for three weeks, at the least.”

Buffy stared at her, at first looking quite calm, but then it snapped and she threw the sweater she was holding clear cross the room, exclaiming:

“Dammit!”

Willow blinked.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“No,” Buffy answered. “Just... No.”

¤¤¤

The phone was ringing and Buffy looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was close to twelve and she put the book she had been reading down before reaching out a hand, picking up the receiver.

“It’s the middle of the night,” she stated.

“Hey, give me a little bloody credit, Slayer, I still have two minutes,” Spike’s voice reached her from the other end and she smiled, sitting back against the headboard and having a small swarm of butterflies tickle her stomach.

“Hey,” she then said, not able to decrease the smile even when she tried. “Aren’t you in Acapulco, living it up?” she added sarcastically and he smirked, looking out the window of the hotel and then sighing.

“We’re working – so, no,” he then replied and her smile widened.

“I’m pretty disappointed, you know,” she pointed out.

“You don’t think I am?” he wondered, then caught himself and quickly corrected: “We are, I mean.”

Buffy bit her lip as her smile became bright at his words.

“Missing me bad, huh?” she asked, her tone light, but her voice so soft it took the edge off the joke completely.

“You have no idea,” he muttered. “I’m sure you’d liven things up a bit,” he added and she laughed.

“You know I would,” she agreed. “So what’s the big mission this time?”

“It has to do with the Arderia,” he answered and she sighed.

“Why wouldn’t it?” she put in.

“Were close to catching one of the leaders, Buffy, you should be bleeding dancing and singing our praise,” he shot and she smirked.

“Oh, I am. Right now. Wish you could see it,” she retorted and he licked his lips, smirking as well. “Describe it to me,” he said and there was a momentary pause before she answered:

“Well, it’s naked, sweaty and you need to be very bendy to do it. If you were here I’m sure you’d be impressed.”

“Surely,” he nodded, moving to lie on his back and look up at the ceiling, trying not to have images of that dance grow too strong in his head. “Now, make me think of something else,” he said before he could stop himself and she giggled.

“I’m certain you can find someone willing to help relieve you of whatever pressure you’re under. Isn’t that your tune? A girl in every harbor?” she asked.

He knew she was teasing, and yet...

“You know for a fact that it isn’t,” he answered and she blinked, her smile fading slightly at the honesty in his voice.

“I do,” she then mumbled. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like...”

“It’s fine,” he stopped her gently. “I didn’t mean to sound so...”

“You didn’t,” she shook her head.

They grew silent for a short while.

“So, what did you have planned for me – had I come to the City of Angels, I mean?” she asked and he smiled.

“Thought about going for a picnic up in the hills,” he stated and she raised her eyebrows in interest.

“Sounds nice,” she said.

“It would’ve been,” he assured. “Moonlight, ocean view, good food, good company...”

“Sounds like you had it all figured out,” she murmured, smiling a little. “Would it be for three or for two?”

“Well, the bike only holds so many,” he replied.

“You bought a new motorcycle?” she asked, not surprised, but happy that he’d gotten the chance to.

“That I did,” he confirmed.

“I’d have loved to do that, you know,” she said, another pause occurring between them as they contemplated the other.

“You will,” he then stated.

She smiled.

“Well, I need to go take a shower, all this dancing’s totally drained me,” she said and he cocked an eyebrow.

“Really?” he asked. “Can I come, then? I’d like to finish the conversation.”

“Sure. It’s a big shower,” she replied and he smirked.

“Perhaps I don’t want it to be,” he said and she swallowed, a sudden twirl of unexpectedness swirling near her heart.

“I’ll shrink it just for you,” she promised and he chuckled.

“Don’t have to go out of your way,” he replied.

“No bother,” she shook her head, still smiling slightly. “I’d like to finish the conversation too.”

“Think we’d be doing a lot of the talking?” he asked and she felt her heart begin to beat a little harder.

“So maybe we should keep the shower big...?” she asked back and his smirk widened.

“I don’t wanna finish the conversation THAT badly, love. No need to jump to conclusions,” he shot and she laughed again.

“You say the most romantic things,” she said and he laughed as well.

“If I’d ‘ve known it was romance you wanted, pet, I’d ‘ve come at it from a whole other angle,” he assured and it was her turn to arch an eyebrow.

“And how’s that?” she wondered.

“I’d have to be there,” he replied and she smiled.

“Wish you were,” she mumbled and he blinked.

“Me too,” he then said, voice low and she let out a small sigh.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Will you call again? I mean, if you find the leader thing-y. To let me know?”

He nodded, remembered she wasn’t in the room and said:

“I’ll do that.”

“Spike,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you call?”

“Just wanted to see that you were alright with... everything.”

“Well, for the record – I’m not,” she stated and he smirked.

“And I wanted to hear your voice,” he added and her smile was quickly reborn.

“Right... missing me bad,” she mumbled.

He smiled as well.

“Always,” he said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Bye...”

“Bye.”

She hung up and rolled over on her side, the happiness spreading through her. The confusion soon following. Exactly what had that conversation been all about? Had it been too relaxed to actually mean anything? Had he thought she was only poking fun and thus done the same to her? Or had there been, on some subconscious level, something real behind all the... well, flirting, to be honest.

Her smile widened.

There had been. She was positive of it. There had to have been! In which case, he had made plans for them. In which case, he had been thinking of her. In which case, he really was missing her too.

¤¤¤

Two nights later the phone rang again. Buffy pounced on it before anybody else could. They were all watching a late-night movie and none had any intention of moving except for the Slayer, but she was not about to take any chances. They were pretty used to her by now, since she had been their living, breathing answering machine for the past few days.

“Slayer central,” she answered.

“Please, tell me that’s a joke,” Spike said and she smiled, straining herself from jumping up and down.

“Hi, thought it might be you,” she replied casually. “How’s everything?”

“Not so good. Things are happening that are...”

“Spike! Hurry up!” Angel yelled and Buffy felt her whole body begin to grow rigid with anxiety.

“I have to go. Just wanted to call and say that if everything works out tonight you might not have to fret ‘bout more slayers facing off with mercenaries,” he said. “And I...”

“Now! We have to go right now!” Angel exclaimed.

“Spike?” Buffy said.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured.

“But...” Only the dial tone was what met her and her eyes widened. “No! Wait! WHAT’S going on?! Bloody... hell! Goddammit!”

Giles appeared in the doorway and she stopped her raving, meeting his meaningful gaze and then hanging up the phone. She smiled, walking passed him and into the living room where she took her previous seat on the couch. Willow watched her friend’s face.

“Everything okay?” the redhead then asked and Buffy looked at her.

“Yeah,” she answered. “No worries.”

¤¤¤

Buffy sat curled up in an armchair, her arms wrapped around her legs and a vacant stare in her eyes. She had been sitting like that the entire morning and Willow was getting truly concerned. The latter entered the room with a cup of tea for the Slayer, who blinked and then took it distractedly.

“Buffy...” Willow tried, but the namesake shook her head.

“I can’t,” Buffy replied. “They’re there and I’m here and there’s nothing I can do about it. They might be dead, Wills!”

Willow looked at her calmingly.

“I’m pretty sure you’d feel it, some part of you would feel if they were gone. They’re not dead, Buffy,” she assured. “They’ll call. I promise.”

“Can’t you just try and check?” Buffy implored and Willow shook her head.

“It takes too much energy,” she replied. “I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s okay,” Buffy nodded, putting the cup of tea down and turning her head to look out the window. “I’ll just wait. They’ll call.”

She had never felt number. She was a black hole.

¤¤¤

The phone sounded at five-thirty the next morning. She was lying in bed, unable to get to sleep, and grabbed it the next instant.

“Yeah?”

“Buffy.”

She felt a surge of relief tear through her and she closed her eyes.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed. “Are you both alright?”

“Yes,” Spike answered. “It went...”

“Have you ANY idea what you put me through?!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet. “Leaving a cryptic message of ‘things are happening but don’t worry’ and then just fricking hanging up on me like that?! I haven’t slept, I haven’t eaten, and let me tell you something – I’ve WORRIED! You stupid, annoying, short, bleached bonehead!”

There was a lengthy silence following her outburst, her breathing heavy with anger and finally she calmed down enough to ask:

“Are you even there?”

“We got him,” he replied.

“Did you hear a word I said?!” she yelled.

“Yes, I’m still trying to block them out,” he answered and she growled impatiently at him. “Buffy, I’m sorry!” he added. “I’m sorry... that I’m a stupid, annoying, short, bleached bonehead,” he finished and she could hear the laughter in his voice.

“I’m still mad at you!” she warned.

“I had to call you!” he said. “How would you’ve felt if something had happened and you had no bloody clue of it?”

“That’s not an excuse!”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a little bit?”

“Overreacting? Overreacting?! I spent the past twenty-four hours distantly convinced that I’d lost you again, you moron! Think a thirty second phone call would ever make that better?!” she exclaimed.

The silence which followed this was thick with questions.

Buffy swallowed.

Oups.

Spike knew that if he’d been breathing, he’d be holding his breath right about now. What had she meant by that?

“If I haven’t made it obvious – I care about the both of you,” she then murmured.

He smiled a little.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, this time with more sincerity.

She had to smile as well, sitting back down on the bed and feeling nothing but the overwhelming need to see him.

“So, it’s great that you got him!” she said and his smile widened at her enthusiasm.

“Yeah, perhaps I was a little overly optimistic saying that it’d take care of the whole of Arderia... but at least we might be able to branch it out more, get to the core and work our way in there,” he replied and she nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. “I mean, I know neither of you do it for ME, but the job you do is really important. Hope you know that.”

“I do now,” he answered and she smirked.

“When are you leaving for Sydney?” she wondered.

“Two more days.”

“And the ‘leader’?”

“He’s coming with us.”

“Oh. And... when ‘re you coming here?”

“As soon as we can,” he answered.

“Right,” she said. “Of course, you don’t know how long it will... What are you doing in Sydney anyway? The sun barely sets there!”

“No, that’s Scandinavia... and in the summer,” he corrected and she grumbled.

“Well, it’s sunny, anyway.”

“So ‘s California.”

“Come on, let me argue for you ditching the land down under and coming here instead! I’ll help you interrogate the prisoner! We can take turns! It’ll be fun!”

“You have some twisted view on fun,” he remarked and she smiled.

“I just want you... here,” she muttered and he smiled.

“We will be... there,” he replied.

“Now! I want you here – now,” she stated. “I wanna talk to you about all this... stuff that’s happening. And whenever I take a walk I sorta wish you were here. And I wanna spar with you ‘cause I miss the challenge and...”

She trailed off. First of all, she suddenly realized how extremely tired she was. Secondly, she was rambling. Worst of all – she was rambling truths.

Spike furrowed his brow, still wearing a slight smile, though his expression was wondering.

“Buffy?”

“Yeah, so you see how I just want the... two of you to please hurry and wrap everything up and get your butts back here. Or make it possible for me to come see you in L.A., with you being there and all,” she said and his smile broadened.

“Buffy...”

“I was serious about the not sleeping and... look at the time! Almost six – in the morning! We’d better hang up, don’t you think? Sleep is important,” she said and he blinked.

“Buffy.”

“Yes, Spike?”

“Keep an eye out, one of these days, when you least expect it...”

“You’ll be here,” she filled in, smiling again.

“Sleep tight,” he said.

“I promise,” she mumbled.

They hung up and Spike closed his eyes, feeling about as light as a feather and still wishing he knew he could trust his intuition; which was telling him that she missed him as much as he was missing her.

¤¤¤

“There’s so much you don’t know,” the form of Caleb said to her and she rolled her eyes at him.

“This is really getting old,” she murmured.

“There’s so much you’ve only begun to understand,” he stated as he looked out over the glittering view of Sunnydale.

They were standing on one of the hilltops, overlooking the town. There was a soft breeze blowing and the pine trees smelled sweetly around them. Still, Buffy felt cold.

“Really? Like what?” she asked.

“Evil,” he answered. “The true face of it... You have yet to look into its eyes. Feel its breath on your cheek. Its teeth scraping your flesh.”

She huffed.

Suddenly two hands grabbed her wrists and two arms wrapped around her from behind in a tight hold, having her wrap her own arms around herself as well. She looked over her shoulder, meeting the eyes of Spike.

She smiled, he returned it, but in the next moment he vamped out. Her eyes grew right before he parted his lips and put them by the side of her throat. His fangs went through her skin and she closed her eyes, letting out a scream of objection.

“You have no idea,” Caleb mumbled as he coolly watched the scene.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

I wanna be the face you see when you close your eyes

I wanna be the touch you need every single night

I wanna be your fantasy, and be your reality

And everything between

I want you to need me

Like the air you breathe

I want you to feel me

In everything

I want you to see me

In your every dream

The way that I taste you

feel you

breathe you

need you

-Celine Dion, I Want You to Need Me-

¤

Lesson the Thirteenth

¤

Three weeks passed in the slowest manner time adopts. Buffy was trying to act as though she was patiently waiting, but on the first day of the fourth week she was sure she was going to lose her mind. She hadn’t been able to get a hold on either vamp since her last talk with Spike, and the nightmare she had had that night was still haunting her.

She had been so sure that she had successfully blocked all access to her brain, but somehow the First had found a loophole. She felt exposed and weakened and she longed for the one person she knew could make her feel better. She relied on herself, and she knew that she could take care of herself, but whatever burden she suffered he always elevated it to the point of non-existence.

And then... he was there.

She was in her bedroom, having just taken a shower she was drying her hair when she had the most familiar sensation overcome her and when she straightened her back, flipping her hair away from her face, she met the eyes of Spike.

She stared at him, then had a smile grow on. It was bright, welcoming and filled with warmth, and at the sight of it, he had to return it.

“You’re here,” was the only thing she could think of to say.

“I’m here,” he confirmed.

“When...?”

“Just now,” he answered. “I needed to... see you.”

She smiled, throwing the towel she had in her hands on the bed.

“Here I am,” she said and he smirked.

“I needed to talk to you,” he clarified and she raised her eyebrows.

“Are you gonna stand all the way over there, or do you wanna come in?” she asked and he smiled, then entered, approaching her before he stopped before her.

“Hi,” she smiled and his widened.

“Hi,” he agreed.

“So, what’s up?”

“Well,” he began, hesitantly eyeing her and she frowned. “I’ve been having this dream...”

The expression on her face said it all, and as she sat down on the bed he took a seat beside her.

“God, I hate this,” she grumbled and he nodded.

“I just had to know if you’d been dreaming it too,” he said.

“Listen, I know you would never...” she began, but he shook his head.

“I know,” he assured her. “And I never would.”

She looked into his eyes and felt like everything absent had been put back into place. Reaching out a hand she gently placed it against his cheek and his gaze turned soft as he held hers. She smiled a little, removing her hand and placing it in her lap.

“Willow’s making dinner,” he said and her smile broadened.

“Go get it,” she encouraged and he smirked as he rose to his feet.

She watched him go and when he had closed the door she jumped up and ran up to her wardrobe, opening the doors up and diving in, beginning to rummage for anything fitting to wear.

¤¤¤

“And he cracked,” Angel stated. “It took us a week, but he cracked. He told us pretty much everything we wanted to know and we’ve contacted the heads of the slayer affiliates. It’ll be a matter of organizing our forces, but we’ll be able to start working on bringing down the mercenaries since we know how the meet their attacks,” he added and Buffy nodded, smiling.

“Good. Good,” she said.

They had been walking for a while and were nearing the edges of the large garden. Angel glanced at her, then asked:

“You alright?”

“Yes,” she answered. “It’s a beautiful night isn’t it?”

“Your mind seems to be wandering,” he pointed out and she smiled again.

“It’s not,” she replied and he raised his eyebrows.

“Then how come you’re not grilling me on exactly what he told us?” he asked and she opened her mouth to reply, then stopped herself.

“I’m just...”

“...tired.”

She gave him a look.

“You said...”

“...we handled it,” he filled in again and she smirked. “Buffy,” he then added reproachfully. “I know you too well,” he stated.

“What do you want me to say?”

He stopped, leaning against a tree and observing her for a few seconds before he said:

“You’re in love with him.”

She stared at him.

“Beg your pardon?”

“You don’t have to beg for it, you know,” he stated and she blinked.

“What are you...?”

“Spike – you’re in love with him.”

She swallowed, then couldn’t meet his eyes and looked away. She realized she was sending the wrong message and met his gaze again, this time firmly as she answered:

“Yeah, I am.”

He smiled a little.

“Spike,” he huffed and she smiled slightly as well. “Why?” he added, incredulous, and she gave him a look. “Okay, alright... but he’s so annoying!”

She smirked.

“Keeps me on my toes,” she said and he shook his head at her before pushing away from the tree and walking up to her, bending down he gave her a gentle kiss on the mouth before pulling her into a tight hug.

“No matter what, I love you,” he stated and she smiled.

“I love you too,” she said, hugging him back. She paused, then added: “Don’t tell him.”

Angel was about to say something to that, but changed his mind and nodded.

“I won’t,” he promised.

¤¤¤

“Oh,” Buffy said, stopping in the doorway of the drawing room as Spike looked up from the sketchbook he had tilted in his lap. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she added and he stopped her as she was about to turn by saying:

“You didn’t.”

She smiled, coming into the room and then having a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the small, round table he was sitting by. It was close to twelve-thirty, but she wasn’t tired. Or rather, she couldn’t sleep when she knew that he was not. She strained her neck to see what he was drawing and he smirked, not looking at her as he moved the piece of coal he had in his hand in soft strokes over the page.

She sighed, sitting back.

“Can I see?” she asked.

“It’s not done yet,” he replied and she pouted.

“Please,” she tried and the smirk came back.

“Oh, go take a shower,” he shot and she felt her cheeks immediately grow hot, making her give a laugh to cover it up.

“Only if you come with me,” she retorted and he stopped his movements, glancing at her and she smirked. “Which you won’t, ‘cause you can’t finish that there, can you? And you’ve been working on it for hours and hours!” she added and he tilted his head slightly to one side as he took to observing her. “What?” she asked. “You have!” she added and he turned back to the drawing. “Honestly, I had no idea you were so into it.”

“It’s therapeutic,” he replied.

“For what?” she muttered and he smiled.

“The need of constant showering,” he answered and her eyes widened.

“This is getting too hot for me,” she said, rising to her feet.

“Need a cold shower?” he asked, smile merely widening and she smirked.

“I’m leaving.”

“Good night.”

She shook her head, walking out of the room on nearly shaky legs and leaning against the banister as she made her way up to her bedroom.

Half an hour later she had been laying there listening to every last squeak of the house and each time thinking it was him, coming to ravage her. She smirked at herself, burying her head in her pillow and after another half hour – and no Spike – she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning she opened her eyes to have them land on... herself.

She blinked, clearing her sight and raising her head off the pillow. Then she smiled.

It was a beautiful portrait, and it was signed by the artist.

She got out of bed, put on her robe and walked into the hallway, stopping by his door. She hesitated, then opened it and continued inside. He was sleeping with the covers around his waist, his arms over his head and his body stretched out in its full length. She gaped. Then shut her mouth and considered turning when the portrait showed itself before her eyes and she was overcome by a sudden tender feeling, her eyes back on him and a small smile touching her lips.

She approached the bed slowly, looking at the chiseled lines of his face and wishing she could draw them as well as he did hers. Then she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered, straightening her back and leaving the room as quietly as she had entered.

As the door closed Spike opened his eyes, a reflection of her smile occurring on his mouth as he turned his head to look at the place through which she had disappeared.

¤¤¤

“You ready?” she asked, leaning against the doorpost of his bedroom and watching him as he reached for his duster, tossed over the arm of a chair.

He turned his head to her as he moved to pull it on, his eyes in hers and she swallowed. He had been awake for nearly two hours, but for some reason she had steered clear of him. Perhaps she was slightly afraid that he had been awake when she had pulled the stunt earlier that morning, and that he’d... remember it? Tease her into oblivion for it? She had no idea. Something had kept her from his room, anyhow. Now... she could barely recollect what it could possibly have been.

He wore the shadow of a smile as he walked up to her and then stepped passed her through the doorway. She looked up at him, keeping her gaze in his until he turned away for walking down the hallway. She followed.

“I take it you liked it?” he asked and she raised her eyebrows, wondering.

He stopped at the top step of the stairs and looked at her, the meaningful and yet inquiring expression on his face was all the elaboration she needed and she smiled sheepishly.

“Yes,” she then answered. “It was... very pretty. Truly. Looked like... me. I had no idea you’d had that much time to study the object,” she added and he smirked as they began down the stairs.

“The object draws itself, actually,” he said, adding as they reached the hallway: “Didn’t need that much study at all.”

“And yet you worked on it all evening,” she pointed out.

He smiled as they continued through the living room and to the doors of the terrace.

“It wasn’t the only drawing I made last night, love,” he lied and she smiled sweetly.

“I’d love to see the other ones,” she stated, her smile turning knowing and his widening.

“If you don’t beat me up too bad, you just might,” he replied as they stepped outside and faced the awaiting slayers on the lawn.

“Oh, come on,” Buffy smirked. “I hit you, you hit me – we both go home happy.”

“Okay, people,” Kennedy said. “Let’s go.”

The group of ten slayers followed her as she began to walk through the garden. Buffy and Spike not far behind. Glancing at each other and smirking each time their eyes met. Buffy brought out her stake, twirling it in her hand and Spike stared at her as though she was insane. Her smirk broadened and then she slapped him on one arm.

“Gotta have it as realistic as possible,” she then said and he cocked an eyebrow.

“Just dodge the heart, pet,” he replied and she laughed.

“That’ll be easy,” she shot and he smirked, then looked offended.

“Hey!”

She smiled widely, tucking her stake at the small of her back again before stopping as they had reached the far end of the garden where the bushes and trees were scarcer and where they now were standing on a wide patch of grass.

She reached out a hand and placed it over his heart tenderly, holding his gaze before she gave him a hard push, making him stumble backwards. She smirked and he shook his head at her as she turned to face the other slayers.

“This is a show-and-tell,” she said. “We’ll show you how a fight can work for you, or against you – and that should work as all the telling you need. Very simple.”

She turned back to Spike, signaling for him to back up. He did until there was nearly ten yards between them.

“Suit up,” she said and he tilted his head slightly to one side before changing his appearance into his demonic one.

There were a few unused gasps in the crowd, but Buffy ignored them. Her instincts were tuning in as she held his now yellow gaze.

“See Spike,” she said matter-of-factly to the onlookers. He lunged and she felt her body tense up in preparation. “See Spike run,” she added, and then moved forward and blocked his right arm punch with her left before she jabbed him with one clenched fist in the stomach twice.

He growled, bringing his right arm down and having its hand grab her left, pushing it tightly behind her back, pulling her flush against him and she drew a breath in surprise at the rising pain before she looked up at him.

The game was on.

She smiled a little, then moved her right hand behind her back, grabbing the weapon and bringing it out. He grasped her right wrist with his left hand, but the distraction of the stake was enough for her to break free from his other hold and she pushed them apart. Kicking out one foot she hit him in the chest, making him fly and land five feet away from her.

His lip was bleeding as he sat up, moving the back of one hand over the wound as his gaze was fierce in hers again. She observed him as he slowly rose.

“My turn,” he said and she blocked the punches he aimed at her face, but the two last slipped by her and his fist connected with her jaw so hard it made her lose her balance and fall to land on all fours.

Glaring up at him with a cut in her own lower lip she slipped her tongue out and licked at it as she got to her feet. He watched her as she had him, the clear challenge for retaliation on her part in his eyes and she threw the stake down.

He looked at it, then smirked.

“Thought it made you feel all manly...” he remarked and she smiled as well.

“No,” she then said, moving forward and kicking her leg out, having him block it with both hands as she added: “That was you.”

She threw herself forward, making him fall to the ground and together they rolled around. Bringing her leg up and then down it hit him in the chest and he groaned before he grasped her leg, braced himself and then threw her as though she was made of paper. She sailed through the air, landing on the ground and getting to her feet with a snarl of irritation. He smiled as he rose as well, observing her intensely.

Her heart was racing and her nerves were tingling with different sensations. One of them was a persistent throb to have her hands all over him, her body entwined with his and his mouth...

His fingers suddenly closed around her throat and she drew a breath in surprise, her eyes focused in his again.

“Sod it,” he murmured, bringing her face closer to his as he added: “I should’ve bet money I’d stand as the winner.”

She stared at him, then took a tight hold on the wrist of the hand holding her throat and bent it away from her before she pushed him viciously backwards. He hit a tree, leaning against it as she was on him the next instant, pressing him against the rough wood.

“Did I tick you off, love?” he asked, another smirk on his face and she glared at him, her eyes traveling from his and to his mouth and he suddenly had the most incredible rush up his back.

“Nothing new,” she replied and he found himself irreversibly hypnotized by the small drop of blood still lingering on her damaged lip.

He suddenly changed back into human form, his gaze in hers. She blinked, looking into those eyes of his and then, before she could fully register what he was doing, he moved his head forward and opened his mouth, letting his teeth scrape her lower lip gently as they slipped over the small wound, and then his lips followed softly; his tongue gracing the spot carefully and she thought her heart was positively about to burst through her chest.

He pulled back and she nearly let her head follow to catch his mouth with hers. But then he held her gaze again and she remembered the situation they were in as he changed back into his vampire exterior, his grip around her waist hardening. She couldn’t shake the tension between them though, and her arms moved up as he spun her around and changed their places, pinning her against the stiff tree trunk.

She kept her hands from slipping into his hair, but his mouth was hovering less than an inch from hers and the look in his eyes made her head spin. He pressed himself even tighter to her and she let out a slight gasp, having him give a small smile.

“Know something?” she whispered and when she could see she had his full attention she softly added: “This is where you always went wrong.”

He raised his eyebrows in realization as she had him stumble backwards, and then his gaze filled with admiration and humor. She smirked at it, then stripped the unprofessional expression and got ready for the next attack.

As she twirled around he ducked, reached up and grabbed her thigh and her waist before lifting her into the air. Throwing her, she went back-first into a different tree trunk, falling to the ground with a low moan and he stripped the vamp exterior with sudden regret on his face.

“Buffy...?”

She raised an arm, then moved her head to look up at him.

“Don’t... you dare,” she breathed and he smiled before changing back.

Rolling around she jumped to her feet just in time to meet another series of hits, ducking and grabbing his upper arm and putting one hand against his chest she twirled him around, pushing him up against another tree harshly.

“Did we ever settle who’s the strongest?” she asked and he stared down at her, her face again not farther than an inch away as she steadily met his gaze, then he smirked again.

“You never did play fair,” he said and she raised her eyebrows.

He moved a hand gently up to the side of her face and felt how her grip was immediately loosening. Moving in the next instant he, for the second time, changed their positions as he put his other hand on her waist, pinning her to the trunk instead.

“Like that,” he stated and the irritation in her eyes made him smile.

“I never did that,” she then said, and he could tell by her expression what was coming right before her hands shoved him away. Her foot connected with his cheek the following moment and she added: “I did do THAT.”

He chuckled, straightening his posture and meeting her next kick easily before delivering one of his own to her stomach.

“Are we gonna bleeding well prance around like this all evening – or are we gonna get it on?” he murmured and she smiled condescendingly.

“Been there – done that,” she replied and he smirked as well.

“Hitting below the belt,” he said, reaching out one hand and grabbing the waist of her jeans before pulling her to him as he finished: “Again, not very fair.”

She put her arms around his neck, her mouth once more much too close to his as she retorted:

“Thought you liked playing dirty.”

Then she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and in the very start he experienced from that movement he tumbled backwards with her on top. She smirked as she moved her right hand, grabbed the stake on the ground and brought it to his chest as she sat up, still straddling him.

“Bang,” she said. “You’re dust.” He changed back into his human face and gave her a friendly glare at the pure glee on her face. “And that,” she added, turning to the slayers, “is how you kill a vamp.”

“No,” Spike shook his head, grabbing the wrist holding the stake and bringing the arm away from him before rolling them over and weighing her down as she tried to get him off her. “Actually KILLING the vamp you’ve set out to kill,” he added with a glance at the other slayers before having his eyes back in Buffy’s. “That’s how you kill a vamp.”

She rolled her eyes at him, beating back the acknowledgement of how turned on she actually was, and how the fact of him perfectly fitted between her thighs didn’t exactly help the matter.

“You’ve watched too many soap operas,” she muttered and he smirked.

“Guess what would’ve come next,” he shot, his voice lowered and she felt a swivel in the pit of her stomach at the look in his eyes.

“The would’ve-been-dust vampire helping the mortal enemy to her feet?” she asked innocently and he smiled, then nodded and began to pull back to sit on his knees.

She sat as well, her gaze still in his and then he reached out a hand. She smiled slightly, then slipped one of hers into it and he pulled her with him up.

“I’m not sure I got all that showing,” Lucy mumbled and there were agreeing nods around her. Kennedy turned her eyes skyward.

“Okay, back to the house, gang. Tomorrow evening you might be the ones doing... well, something like that,” she said and as they began to move she gave Buffy and Spike an annoyed look. As she walked passed them she commended: “Great work with the not-confusing them.”

Buffy watched her go, then shared a look with the vampire as they both raised their eyebrows – quizzically.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤

Only wanna be the wind that lifts you high above the ground

Living only to unleash this sacred power that we’ve found

Only wanna breathe your essence

Be your comfort filled with laughter

Every moment that we live from this day on and forever after

I’ll steal your heart and set it free

So free I’m sure it will astound you

Without my love you’ll never be

In some way I’ll always find you

-Gloria Estefan, Steal Your Heart-

¤

Lesson the Fourteenth

¤

Buffy looked up as Willow came into the dining room. It was nearly seven o’clock in the evening and almost time for dinner, hence the Slayer was setting the table. At the tight expression on her friend’s face the former stopped what she was doing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“They’ve just finished searching the last sight,” Willow answered and Buffy didn’t need any embellishment.

She paled.

“Nothing,” she murmured.

Turning she walked through the hall and into the living room, where Giles, Angel and Spike were all discussing something. As they turned their heads to her she understood that they had heard.

“What the hell do we do now?” she asked. “Are we even on the right track with this?”

Angel rose.

“We got a lead from the Arderian leader,” he said and she put her hands on her hips in an unconvinced gesture. “Just listen – it’s for a member of the Ancient’s whose left the old ways to live up here. Spike and I were planning on going there in a few days, but with this...”

“Oh, I’m coming,” she stated. “Where are we going?”

“Oklahoma,” Spike replied and she turned her eyes in his, skeptical.

“Seriously?” she wondered and he smirked.

“Yup,” he said.

She smiled a little as well. They seemed to be tiptoeing around each other for one reason or another, but somehow it was pleasurable. Sure, some moments it was also frustrating as hell, but... There was no definition for it. It was as she usually felt around him whenever their eyes met – he knew what she was thinking without her having to say anything. There was some sort of strange understanding between them, even when she didn’t know just what it meant or what page they were supposed to be on together, they just were. No matter. She supposed that was why she always felt that support he gave her... Though perhaps it was a good thing he wasn’t a mind reader... She felt herself flushing and quickly put it out of her head, focusing back on the job at hand.

“When are we leaving?” she asked.

¤¤¤

“I don’t necessarily think it’s a good idea to check into a motel,” Buffy said.

“And we don’t have the money to cover living anywhere else,” Spike replied.

“What are you talking about – just charge it to Dogham and Start,” she shrugged and Spike gave her a look.

“Wolfram and Hart,” he corrected.

“That’s what I said,” she replied with a sweet smile and he smirked. “It’s called the Deary Inn, for crying out loud,” she added.

“I’m sure it’s... darling,” he said and Angel rolled his eyes at their banter.

“Is there an off button on one of you so I can get some peace?” he muttered and Buffy reached back from the front seat to pet his cheek. “We’re staying at the Inn because we’ll be watched. Every single move we make will be monitored closely. If Isaiah feels he can’t trust us – he’ll be gone. I mean thoroughly, totally, irreversibly gone – and we need him,” Angel added as she sat back in the seat.

“But why couldn’t he have chosen a nice Four Seasons, then?” Buffy muttered and Spike smirked again.

“Low key, remember?” Angel said and she sighed.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled.

“Never thought you for a snob,” Spike remarked and she turned her head to him.

“I’m not!” she disagreed. “I’m tired and cranky and want a nice comfortable bed with clean sheets and a shower...” she paused at the slight smile occurring on his mouth and then she finished: “with running hot water. I’m scared this plan might be jeopardized by checking into this place.”

“Let it go,” Angel murmured, having closed his eyes and desiring an hour’s sleep before they arrived at their destination.

They had rented a car at the airport and had been driving for two hours already.

“I promise, if it’s that bad I’ll take you someplace else,” Spike said, voice lowered in consideration to his colleague and she met his gaze, another smile on her lips.

“Deal,” she replied and he smiled back.

¤¤¤

It wasn’t that bad, not at all. In fact, it was rather quaint. They got their keys and walked to their rooms, which were adjoined by doors between each. Buffy opened the one in the wall to the right of the bed and walked into Angel’s room.

“Let’s get a few hours of sleep,” he said. “We can’t do anything but wait anyways.”

She nodded, bidding him goodnight and walking back into her own room, closing the door and looking up as Spike opened the one separating their rooms.

“Everything to the lady’s comfort?” he asked and she smiled, nodding.

“Sorry ‘bout complaining,” she said and he smirked.

“’S alright. You were tired and cranky.”

Her smile widened and then she walked further into the room, stopping half way through it and growing tentative as she looked at him.

“Nothing some sleep won’t cure, right?” he asked and she held his gaze before shaking her head. He gave a nod. “Sleep tight, then,” he said, and she wanted to make him stay, but he had already closed the door behind him.

She grumbled, walking up to the bed and throwing herself down on it.

In his room Spike splayed himself out on his own bed. The past few days had been pure turmoil for him, wreaking havoc with his convictions and set mind. The teasing had transferred into flirting on more occasions than one and he was more confused than ever. Was she aware of it? The kiss she had given his cheek a day ago, had it been as innocent as it might have seemed, or as loaded as he at first had thought it? He had always done this – read more into things than might have been there. He refused to let himself make the same mistake again.

Still, the way he caught her looking at him sometimes...

He closed his eyes determinedly. He had to try and sleep, he really did need it.

He could almost hear her move and he clenched his jaws together as her scent drifted through the air and to his nostrils. Everything reminded him of her in one way or another.

Buffy looked at her watch, sighing. An hour later she sat up and kicked off the covers. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed she carefully made her way up to the door of Spike’s room, contemplating knocking, but thinking better of it. He was most probably asleep. She turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open with the same deliberate movement. Stepping inside she closed the door again, turned around and then thought of how silly she was.

She couldn’t very well lie down beside him without making a sound and have him wake up in the morning with her miraculously in his bed! What would she blame? Sleepwalking? Ludicrous. So, she walked up to the bed and then stopped herself again, looking down at him and feeling a sudden insecurity build inside of her.

Before she could change her mind he jerked and opened his eyes, resting them in hers with a subtle surprise growing in them.

“’S it time?” he wondered and she smiled nervously, shaking her head.

“No. It’s... I can’t sleep,” she mumbled.

“Oh,” he said, beginning to sit up as he added: “Well, we could... play cards. I brought a deck. Or...”

“No,” she interrupted gently and he stopped his movement, leaning back on his elbows as he looked up at her questioningly. “Can I...?” she then added, trailing off with a look at the bed and he furrowed his brow before his eyes lit up with understanding and he granted her a slight smile as he scooted to the side, making room for her as he lay down.

She swallowed, then smiled back as she placed a knee on the mattress before lying down as well, taking the place next to him and putting her hands under her head as she lay on her side, facing him. He looked at her and then reached out a hand, tenderly pushing a stray lock behind her ear.

She closed her eyes for a moment before meeting his gaze again. Then she moved herself closer, putting her body alongside his and placing her cheek on his chest below his shoulder, one arm across his torso and closing her eyes. He looked down at the top of her head, then smiled another smile as he put one arm around her, holding her to him and closing his eyes as well.

¤¤¤

“Slayer...”

She looked up and met the gaze of an ethereal but utterly beautiful young man. She blinked, unaware of being anywhere but in Spike’s arms and now finding herself out of them. She looked around the room and realized he was there with her, as was Angel. They looked as disoriented as her.

“I am Isaiah,” the man spoke, his tone soft but his eyes sharp, like the edge of a knife, as he observed her.

She had no clue as to what was expected of her to say. He seemed content in the silence, though. He was standing while the other three were seated in a semi circle around a table. Suddenly he was sitting opposite her and Buffy jumped slightly.

“No,” he then said and she frowned, not following. “No, this is not merely a dream,” he elaborated and she stared at him, taken off guard. “And yes, I can read your thoughts. I can find my way into your heads within the blink of an eye, that is how easy it is for me. Imagine how simple it is... for her.”

Buffy’s frown deepened.

“Her?” she asked.

“Yes,” Isaiah nodded. “Her. Your enemy, my pretty. The one that haunts your dreams.”

Buffy blinked.

“Who is she?” she asked and he smiled a very small smile.

“Ah, that is the question,” he nodded, pausing as he rested his gaze in hers and then he continued: “She is one of the first, and considers herself royalty. She is a princess and our ruler.”

“Princess?” Spike asked, stumped.

“Yes,” Isaiah replied. “I know what it is you seek. I can tell you this. They are stronger, smarter and faster than any vampire you have ever encountered. They will turn on you on a dime and they will use every means to get what it is they want.”

“And what is that?” Buffy asked.

“What every vampire wants,” he answered.

“And what is that?” Buffy repeated and the next moment his cool hands moved her hair away from her neck as he was behind her.

“Blood,” he then replied, slipping one finger over the place of her jugular and having both Spike’s and Angel’s eyes widen with protectiveness.

She dealt with it herself as she smacked his hand away and he smiled again, stepping away from her.

“There are so many things that you have only now begun to understand,” he said, voice still gentle and she looked at him, wondering what the hell was going on. “I am sorry that Joseph sought it necessary to grant you my name. I am sorry I cannot help you further without risking my own safety. But this is all I can tell you: the key does not lie through fire, but through scripture. Godspeed.”

And everything turned black.

¤¤¤

Buffy opened her eyes, feeling Spike’s strong arms around her and his chest still beneath her cheek. He began moving and she looked up at him. He met her gaze and was about to let her go when she shook her head.

“No,” she mumbled. “Don’t.”

He pulled her tightly to him and she nestled her face against his throat as the different impressions from the dream... or what it had been... collided in her head.

“God, you smell good,” she mumbled, half asleep again and he smiled.

“I’m pretty sure I hear Angel clambering around in his room,” he murmured. “He’ll be here any minute...”

She pulled her head up, eyes heavy with sleep as she met his.

“Is this the face of a woman who cares?” she asked and he chuckled, then shook his head.

“You don’t seem very shaken up ‘bout the fact that one of the strongest links we have to whatever we’re about to face just made an appearance – a combined one – in our heads,” he remarked.

“I’m...” she began when the door opened and Angel walked through it, his eyes landing on the two and they widened slightly, then he got over it and continued up to them.

“Did you just... dream something?” he asked and they looked at each other, then back at him, nodding. “What’re you...? Never mind. Get up. We need to talk about this while it’s still fresh!”

“We’ll remember all of it tomorrow,” Buffy shook her head. “Trust me,” she added, yawning.

“Buffy!” he exclaimed, but she merely placed her head back on Spike’s chest and the bleached blonde couldn’t really do anything but raise his shoulders in a shrug at the questioning look the other vampire gave him.

Angel sighed in defeat.

“Fine then,” he muttered, turning and leaving the room again.

“Do you think this is smart?” Spike asked quietly and Buffy nodded against his shoulder.

“Very much so,” she replied. “I never sleep this good... alone,” she added, and he could feel how she was growing heavier as she began to drift off again.

“Me neither,” he mumbled, pulling his fingers through her hair softly before closing his eyes as well.

¤¤¤

“This is an outrage!”

“It is, milady.”

“It has come to this, then? Find Isaiah and bring him back here, he needs to stand before me and explain how he could dare betray me.”

“Yes, milady.”

She watched the head of her royal guard leave the room and then sat back on the silk covered chair serving as her throne. A wicked smile grew onto her mouth and then she laughed. Everything was working out perfectly.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤

Romance and all its strategy

Leaves me battling with my pride

But through the insecurities

Some tenderness survives

Now who am I to judge you

In what you say or do

I’m only just beginning

To see the real you

Sometimes when we touch

The honesty’s too much

And I have to close my eyes and hide

I wanna hold you till I die

Till we both break down and cry

I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

-Fifth Avenue, Sometimes-

¤

Lesson the Fifteenth

¤

Spike woke slowly. Feeling the weight of her still in his arms made him smile and he opened his eyes fastening them on her face. He moved a hand and cautiously slipped it down her cheek. Just as his fingers reached her chin she opened her eyes and met his. He looked at her, feeling the inevitable fact of how deep his love for this woman went.

Buffy observed him, practically unaware of how she was slowly inching even closer to him. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest she could barely breathe and the only thing she knew to be real was him near her, finally. Close enough to touch. She slipped one hand from his shoulder and gently down his chest, having the look in his eyes change into one that created a sudden surge within her.

His mouth was slightly open and not farther than an inch from hers, her breath tickling his lips and as her fingers slid over the muscles of his stomach he drew a small breath of his own as he stared into her gaze.

Then he rolled them over, fitting himself between her thighs and having her smile slightly, her nose brushing against the side of his.

Time stood still, and then they both closed their eyes and joined their lips. The kiss was soft, their lips parting and the kiss deepening. Buffy moaned silently, moving her hands into his hair as her tongue played carefully with his.

Suddenly the door to the room opened and they broke the kiss, Spike rolling off her and Buffy rolling to the other side – slipping off the bed with a yell of surprise and then looking up as Angel walked through the doorway, stopping at the caught expression on either person before him, cocking an eyebrow.

Buffy got to her feet, straightening out the top she was in and glancing at Spike. Her heart was still pounding in her ears, and she knew both vampires could hear it clearly. However, the kiss was even stronger as it clung to her lips, the taste of him filled her senses and the thought did nothing to ease the rampage in her chest.

Spike looked at her – the essence of her seemed to encircle him and he couldn’t get it into his head that they had actually just done what they had done. He wasn’t showing it, but inside he was absolutely trembling all over and... he couldn’t believe that they had actually just done what they had done!

Buffy smiled at Angel.

“I’ll shower,” she said, keeping herself from even glancing at Spike, though she could tell there was a small smile on his lips at the mention of the word. “Need to wash my hair,” she added and she could feel both pairs of eyes on her back as she left the room.

When the door closed behind her Angel turned his gaze in Spike’s.

“I’m not bloody getting into it with you,” the bleached muttered and the other arched an eyebrow again.

“Did I say a word?” he asked and Spike gave him a look.

Buffy stepped into the running water and let it soak her overheated skin. She hadn’t felt the pure desire for him in such a long time that now it seemed to have overcome her and surprised every part to her. Her heart was erratic, her mind was flowing freely and her soul was... the whole that made her up was in fact crying for him to make up some excuse, make Angel leave so that the bleached could step through the door of the small bathroom – to join her.

The water slipping down her back felt like his fingertips, his chest, his lips... She closed her eyes and let her own hands follow the path his was taking in her mind.

¤¤¤

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair in a makeshift bun at the nape of her neck, her face drawn and she put on a small smile. She was afraid. Afraid that looking into his eyes would have her lose it, and that how excruciating she found it all to be would show in her gaze, on her face... Her love for him was like a burned scar in her breast and she kept looking to him for the balm. That kiss...

“Oh, God,” she murmured, leaning against the small table beneath the mirror.

Not knowing how she felt, being confused and mixed up inside, hating him and hating herself even more, denying everything that pointed to her deep down knowing exactly how much he meant to her – all of that had been a walk in the park compared to this.

Knowing and feeling and needing and wanting and longing for him with everything within her, loving him this way, with him so close to her and yet always seemingly on at least an arms length away from her – this was torture.

Yet she was terrified.

No matter how he acted, how he smiled at her and held her gaze, how he opened up, joked or even flirted with her, no matter how many portraits he painted or how many times he allowed her to sleep in his arms, she was terrified that it wasn’t what it used to be. That something had changed for him. That in reality he had taken her up on the words she had spoken so many years ago – and moved on.

That the kiss had been nothing else for him but the relive of passionate nights past. That her closeness was nothing to him but physical where it wasn’t... friendly. What if she was nothing more to him than that? A friend? A sexy, intoxicating, incredibly hot young woman friend; but yet nothing more than that.

She smirked at that though, then it faded for the fact that remained.

What if he merely wanted her... the way she had merely wanted him when their carousel truly began to run riot with their lives? The thought stirred up another wave of fear and she drew a breath. She didn’t know if she could bear it. Perhaps it was better to not know. To leave it as it was and pretend as though everything was as it should be? To go on from this point as...

“I can’t,” she mumbled, meeting her own gaze again and knowing that that simple statement was the ultimate truth.

She didn’t have the strength to see him every day if there was no chance of... Ever.

“How the hell did he do it?” she grumbled, clenching her jaws together and facing the door of Spike’s room, in which he and Angel were waiting.

How had he done it? The bleached, fanged, out-of-this-world vampire who came whirling into her Slayer everyday and turned so much of it on its very end – how had he done it? How had he been able to hold on for so long, refusing to let go?

Because... that was how much he loved me, she thought. How much he obsessively compulsively believed that I would someday love him back.

She smiled again, reaching out her hand and placing it on the knob of the door before her.

And he was right, she added. He’s always right. But now... things are so different. If he doesn’t love me now, then he won’t love me later. If that unconditional, life-altering love he held for me back then is gone... for whatever reason... then I won’t be able to revive it, will I?

She forced herself steady and then opened the door, putting on a smile as she looked at the two seated by the tiny table standing by the only window. They looked too big for it and she met Spike’s gaze as she came into the room, feeling as though she was too small for him. Too young, too inexperienced, too plain...

Suddenly part of a speech he had taken her utterly off guard with a year and a half earlier leapt into her head and the words were so clear she had to make sure his lips weren’t in actuality speaking them now. They weren’t.

‘A hundred plus years, and there’s only one thing I’ve ever been sure of – you.’

She stared at him and he blinked at the taken expression on her face.

“You alright, love?” he asked and she got a hold on herself as she smiled again, then nodded.

“Would you mind telling me why you brushed me off last night?” Angel wondered.

“I was so comfy,” she smirked and he gave her a look to not play games. She sighed. “Fine. I had one of those... light bulbs go off over my head,” she then stated. “Simplified seeing things clearly. Wish I’d known how to turn that little sucker on a few months ago,” she added and both vamps raised their eyebrows. She commenced explaining: “I don’t know where it came from... but suddenly I got it. Isaiah said ‘she’s’ been haunting my dreams. Our dreams,” Buffy corrected with a look at Spike, who nodded, now concentrated on what it was she was saying.

“The First is... a cover,” she continued. “It’s a way of getting to us even more. It’s what nearly had Angel kill himself, it’s what killed you,” she said, with a gesture to Spike, “what destroyed Sunnydale. It’s all bad all around with that one, no fluff there. So she thought – hey, how can I best play head games? I know! I choose the one Big Bad that actually caused the biggest damage and have it do the work for me. She thought it would weaken us, drive us apart, scare us from seeing each other. She was obviously completely wrong... What I don’t know is why she wouldn’t want us together... Perhaps she knows that we’re stronger... that way,” Buffy trailed off, thoughtful.

“She?” Angel asked.

“Well, hello,” the Slayer said. “The princess. Her royal frickin’ highness. She’s our Big Bad this year, people; wasn’t everybody sleeping last night?”

“But...” Angel began, only Buffy shook her head.

“No, there’s something more... But it’s too far off, I can’t grab onto it. Bugs me! She has to know we’re close. She has to be freaking or she wouldn’t have started up with the whole Spike-biting-me-blah-blah,” she mumbled, pacing slowly back and forth. “The dragon... Angel,” she said, turning to him and he met her gaze. “I know where it is,” she stated, her eyes widening with the realization. “And I can feel it moving.”

¤¤¤

In a place where sun had never reached, a young woman walked through an orchard slowly. She stared in awe around at the snowflakes falling to cover the ground – which had already been wrapped in a rather thick blanket of the cold white. Her long, black cape slid in the snow, trailing behind her. The fine silk of it let the flakes carefully slip off of it and she pulled it tighter around her before securing the hood from gliding off her head.

Her copper-colored hair was thick beneath it and her gray eyes were shining as though they had a light behind them, enhanced by the bleakness of the place she was in. She was a rare jewel among her kind, an ancient and a scholar. Her bright head had led her into more disputes with her princess than the latter would want to admit, but the former did never take much of it to heart and so it was laid to rest.

Her name was Maeve.

“What are you thinking?” a voice asked behind her and she paused, then smiled a little as she turned around to face her, until now, unannounced companion.

“I’m thinking that you should not hide yourself, Theodore,” she answered and he returned her smile, a small nod accompanying it as he took a step out from the tree by which he had been standing.

Thus he faced her on the path she had been following among the bushes and flowerbeds of the orchard for the past half hour.

“I thought I could never hide from you,” he replied, voice gentle and she smiled again.

“And I know you are all the wiser than to think you could not,” she retorted. “Poetry in your speech has always been the bad seed of your personality,” she now added, turning from him and beginning to walk again.

He slowly followed.

“How so?” he inquired and she didn’t turn to face him as she stopped by a dazed rose, frost-bitten it fought against the cold.

She took the perfect flower into the palm of her hand before she leaned forward to smell its scent.

“It is as it is with all things of beauty,” she began to answer him, straightening her back and looking at him over her shoulder as she continued: “If you use it for temptation it is gazed upon for centuries, gaped at and admired – take for instance the mortals’ master piece of the Mona Lisa. A marvelous display of having something to taunt the spectators with what they know they shall never have. However, if you use beauty for the everyday it becomes ordinary, it becomes dull. As is it per chance with your speech – which you have used for hundreds of years as a tool for everyday use. You speak ardently beautifully, Theo. But for the past few centuries the fact of your love for listening to your own voice has simply taken all the temptation at hearing it away from it,” she finished and he raised his eyebrows, his gaze now bearing a hint of friendly malignance and she smiled. “You wanted to know,” she reminded him and at that he laughed, nodding.

“What do you desire then, my darling Maeve?” he asked and the vampiress shrugged, turning once more to gaze out over the snow-covered orchard.

“See this?” she asked, touching the rose to her left and then she sighed. “It is to be dead, because of the frost and ice so shockingly brought upon it,” she added and Theodore moved to come and stand beside her. “My heart aches for it since it had no way of defending itself,” she continued. “It had no way of harkening to the omens of this oncoming storm. Its thorns were not made to fend off such trivialities as the weather and the winds.”

“Ah, but the weather and the winds have always been its greatest enemies,” Theo pointed out, stepping up to face her and then reaching out his own hand to brush the lingering snow from the frozen petals of the rose. “Blushing before the sun must have prepared her for the chill of the moon,” he added and Maeve raised her head to meet his eyes.

“So it is true then?” she asked.

He didn’t answer her, merely asked back:

“The orchard seeing winter... what do you think of it?”

She grew thoughtful, then she replied:

“I have not seen a winter here for over one millennia. I think our princess is about to come play in the snow.”

Theodore smiled at that.

“Were she a child still, I am confident that she would,” he stated and Maeve looked down at the flower before she closed her eyes.

“Then may the rose bloom strong as the clouds grow closer,” she whispered.

¤¤¤

“Isaiah said that the answer doesn’t lie through fire, but through scripture,” Buffy said as they faced each other at the gate leading to the plane which was to take her back to England. “I told Giles to start the translation of the depicting of that wall thing-y,” she added with a look at Angel. “It might be a vital clue in all this. As for the dragon...”

“I called Camelia,” Spike said, meeting the Slayer’s gaze. “She’ll gather up her posse. They’re about eighty-five slayers, all and all.”

Buffy nodded, having her eyes in his a little longer than necessary and then breaking away, looking back at Angel. She kept doing that. Spike couldn’t place that look, couldn’t read it and have it tell him why it was there. However, there was a tension between them now that most definitively hadn’t resided there before. An electric charge whenever they came in any sort of contact with each other that seemed to quiver the very air and had almost jump started his heart a few times.

Her fingers had brushed his arm as they took their seats in the car before leaving the motel for the airport, a touch so innocent and accidental, and yet it was as though everything stopped – was put on pause. It was innerving and still exhilarating. It was something he had thought was lost to him, but the numbing ache for her was as strong as it ever had been. The lust and passion that had surrounded them for a few months, that had then been buried by force and guilt and pain and love, was pushing to the surface of his emotions. Born out of a need to be close to her, to have her, to own her in the only way he knew how back then, but always rooted in the irreversible feeling she had implanted into the depths of his spirit, it was now somehow even more powerful as all the timid, restlessly tender and happy times between them created the tow which forged it ahead.

He coveted her with unbearable craving, but relished the feeling. Loved how a mere glance from her got his imagination going, how that simple touch had created flames licking through him when he thought of how much more her hands could do to him.

Now he swallowed. There was no use getting lost in these fantasies.

Clearing his throat he looked at Buffy as she spoke, asking:

“So Camelia will call you when they’re ready?”

“She will,” he confirmed.

“And you were explicit about the fact that we have less than three weeks to get ready?” she asked and he cocked an eyebrow.

“Very,” he assured.

“Good,” she commended and he tried a smile; she returned it.

“And you’re sure?” Angel asked, making her look at him.

She seemed to think it over, then nodded.

“Yes,” she replied. “It’s there. Somewhere.”

“And we’ll find it,” Angel assured.

Buffy nodded, grabbing her bag and hesitating at how best to say goodbye before she gave them both a smile. They returned it and then Spike huffed, saying:

“If anyone had ever told me I’d be going back into the Hellmouth, I’d ‘ve bloody well laughed their head off.”

Buffy’s smile broadened at his choice of words, and with one final look at both of them she then turned and walked through the gate.