Thirty-Seven: What If

By Annie

2003-06-06

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Day Thirty-Three.

12.03 p.m.

"Spike?" Buffy yelled as she stepped through the door of the crypt with a bag containing food from the local DMP and an emptied cup previously containing hot coffee. "You here?" she added, shutting the door and walking into the room, stopping by the armchair and putting the bag down on the TV before getting out of her jacket. "Sp-...?!" she was about to try again, being cut off by the shape of a man stepping out of the shadows to her left.

She jumped. It was too tall to be Spike. Then she relaxed the Slayer part of her as she realized who it was.

"Riley," she breathed, relieved. "You scared me!"

He came into the light, his face a tight mask and she swallowed.

"I'm surprised to see you here..." she said hesitantly, glancing at the bag of food and how home-y it looked, that she had brought it to a place where she a few months ago wouldn't have gone unarmed - chip or no.

"Imagine what I am," he then replied, the hint of bitterness in his voice made her bite her jaws together. "I suppose you find that funny," he then added and she furrowed her brow slightly, about to open her mouth and deny that statement when he continued: "That I actually had this small sliver of hope somewhere that in the end this was all some sick...game your mind was playing on you. That once you had had him, you'd let him go and return to the living. To me." He huffed now and she tried to come up with something to say. "But you're clearly..." he grumbled with a small gesture of one hand to the room in general before he finished: "...making yourself at home."

"Riley," she finally got word over tongue, but he wouldn't have it.

Shaking his head he walked passed her, saying:

"I want to let you know that the Initiative has their hands full, the demons seem to be stirring and everything points to Adam... If you have a break in the search for him, we'd appreciate it if you let us know."

"You came HERE looking for me?" she asked, surprised.

"No," he replied, barely looking at her and something twitched in her heart as she watched the distance he was creating between them. "I had something to discuss with H17..."

"Please, don't call him..."

"...but since it's not here, I'll have to see if I can find it somewhere else. If you see it, tell it that I'm looking and it's only a matter of time."

"Riley..."

"I have to go."

And he left.

She didn't know what to feel. What to think. And what was it that Riley wanted to talk with Spike about? What could they possibly have to discuss? She felt a worry start somewhere in her stomach region and she couldn't make it out. Initiative business seemed the most logical reason for Riley to be looking for the vampire... But, what could that be then? To simply capture him again? That seemed too petty, and why would Riley tell HER?

"Hey," Spike's voice said as he stuck his head up through the trapdoor in the floor by the wall to her left, which was facing the wall of the door. "What're you doing here?" he added as he climbed up to face her.

She didn't move, merely watched him in silence and he knew the look on her. That Slayer bit of her brain was working feverishly, and since her gaze was locked in his he had good cause to believe that it was doing the overtime on account of him. What had that wanker of a soldier boy said to her that had her all like this? He could smell Riley, and the scent had him shivering with annoyance. Now he sighed.

"What is it, love?" he wondered and she smiled a little.

"Nothing," she then shrugged, slipping out of the place where she seemingly had gone and reaching back to grab the bag from on top of the TV. "Wanted to have lunch with you," she then added and he smiled tentatively back at that.

"Didn't think you appreciated my table manners," he then pointed out and she smirked.

"You have no table," she then shot. "Which means we'll have to do it in bed and seriously, you know how I simply LOVE your 'bedside' manners."

Now he chuckled.

"I've missed you," he murmured, coming up to her and sliding his arms around her.

"I've been gone for two hours," she remarked and he made a face of discomfort.

"Please," he then whispered, bending forward and kissing her gently. "No reminders."

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his kisses.

***

10.34 p.m.

Spike ducked and swung one leg out, hitting the vampire he was fighting in the chest and sending it flying. Buffy was there right away and sunk her stake into its heart before she swirled around and met the punch of the second vamp, attacking her from behind, with one arm. She ducked and then delivered an upper-cut to the vampire's chin, having it stumble backwards and right into Spike's awaiting arms. He held it and Buffy did away with it by once again using the tip of her trusted companion.

She shuddered as she brushed at the ashes decorating her jacket in fine layers.

"I wish someone could invent dust-resistant Slayer wear," she muttered and he smirked as they began to walk.

"Downsides to the job?" he wondered and she smiled as well, then sighed.

"Well, it's not that much fun having to take a shower post every time you step outside the door, is it?" she asked and his smirk widened as he observed her. She looked back, slowly growing self-conscious before she looked away. "What?" she asked.

"Huh?" he asked back and she raised her eyebrows.

"What's with the staring match?" she inquired and now he smiled warmly.

"You're not even gonna attempt a bloody guess?" he wondered teasingly, reaching out a hand and taking hers before pulling her close.

She took a breath of his scent, smiling as well, and then she remembered where they were and she pulled away from him, drew her arm back and punched him hard in the nose.

He gave a yell of pain and surprise, his hands going to the body part and his eyes widening with questions.

"What the bleeding...?"

"Don't touch me," she hissed, the anger in her gaze making him take a step back, letting his arms slowly fall to place themselves at his sides. "The next time you touch me I'll rip your hand from your wrist, get me - chippie?" she then added and something close to irritation was seeping into his eyes.

"I've told you not to call me that," he said, voice lowered.

"Oh," she taunted. "What the hell are YOU gonna do about it? ...Chippie."

Turning from him she began to walk again and he grumbled before he followed, observing her back and backside, rather certain she knew exactly where he rested his eyes and he couldn't help but smirk. Stripping it off he quickly found ways back to the annoyance and caught up with her as she turned into the cemetery hosting his home. He grabbed her shoulder and swirled her back to face him.

"I'd say that you'd do best at keeping one sodding eye open," he stated and she looked up at him, glancing at the hand holding her and then crossing her arms over her chest as she directed her gaze into his again. One of her eyebrows was rising and he remembered how frustrated she used to get him when nothing he did seemed to get to her even the slightest. "In fact, you'd do best at growing two of them in your bloody neck!" he then added.

She smiled sweetly, reaching back her free arm and pulling her hand through her long, blonde locks meaningfully before she said:

"Unless I was planning on cutting my hair really short it wouldn't do me any good would it? Bad advice, oh-impotent-one, but then again," she paused as she slid her gaze down his form with a rather evil smile taking the place of the sweet one before she finished: "I didn't exactly expect more from you."

She was turning him on and he tried to ignore it as her eyes rested in his again. He had almost forgotten how good they were at this. At trampling like the cat about to strike the cornered mouse, and prolonging the suffering... Who was the cat, who was the mouse? Neither one of them really knew. It seemed this role-play was the only one that didn't have the actors in consistent parts.

He let her arm go almost gently and the small shift in her gaze made him understand that she wanted him too. He tilted his head slightly to one side, not about to be the first to give in.

"And had my advice been good - would your highness have taken it?" he wondered and she smirked.

"I would say 'touché'," she replied, "but that would imply that this is actually a fight. And I don't fight verbally with anyone."

"Right," he nodded, reaching out his left hand and sliding it from the base of her throat and further down as he added: "but you sure do know how to use that tongue of yours."

She didn't hesitate. She kicked him in the side and sent him down on his knees. Squatting down she moved quicker than light as she reached out and grabbed his right wrist, wringing it up in a rather painful angle and grabbing his hand with her free one.

When he looked up at her his eyes were glistening with danger and the adrenaline went wild inside of her. She licked her lips.

"I warned you," she murmured, her gaze on his mouth. "I said I'd break it off..."

"Do it," he pushed. "Do it... Slayer. Come on. Finish it."

Her heart was pounding in her chest and her concentration was wavering as the need to feel that hand on her breast dimmed her sight for a moment. Before she could react he had torn free and the hand she had threatened to render useless was the one that grabbed her by the throat and pulled her to her feet. He pinned her to the large headstone behind her and then stepped forward, pressing himself against her and she could feel how hard he was, making her juices flow over as she struggled to get loose.

"Get off me," she said, voice strained and he smiled devilishly.

"Come now, love," he murmured, and the small implication behind those words made her ache in a way that near enough drove her to the edge of what was sane.

He brought one hand between her legs and she swallowed hard right before he pressed upward. A silent whine escaped her and she closed her eyes. Then she found some source of strength, got her hands up and against his shoulders, and managed to give him a hard shove. He nearly lost his balance, but regained it as he had backed a few feet away from her.

"Little girl's stronger than she looks," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Seems she wanna play with the big boys."

She cocked an eyebrow, the arrogance on him making her feel a bubbling anger as well as a rising heat. She didn't think anyone had ever looked as cool and controlled as he did in that moment. His duster slick in the light of the slim moon, his eyes glittering with tease and menace - with thirst for a fight and with hungered lust. She wanted him between her thighs, beaten to the ground and with no chance for retreat. And she wanted him there, naked and panting... moaning with the pleasure she granted him. The combined wanting was making her breathe hard, glaring at him with a challenge to do his best.

Everything seemed to grow still and quiet. Waiting.

The two warriors observed each other. Estimated the other. Appraised what they already knew so well, and labelled it. Strength. Speed. Reflexes. Body. Heart. Soul...

They moved at the exact same time. Buffy moved her right hand forward, clenched into a fist, and Spike met it with his left hand - taking a tight hold on it and their chests met as their eyes didn't leave the others.

"I'm not gonna fight you," she murmured, sliding her free hand inside his duster and he bit his jaws together.

He pushed her away from him, making her stumble backwards and then she ducked to avoid the leg he kicked out. She delivered a few rather bad blows as well, and they quickly made their way up to his residence. She grabbed him by the shirt and made him walk backwards; once they were by the door she pushed him hard and it flew open, giving way for the both of them.

It had barely been shut again before she was on him. Jumping up and wrapping her legs around his waist she kissed him deeply and he pressed her up against the wall as his hands slid to the button of her pants. She was making small sounds and when his fingers began to work her clit her groans grew loud, her mouth left his as she threw her head back and she ground her hips against his hand as both of her own slid into his hair.

The orgasm was powerful and every limb of her body was shaking as it coursed through her. He didn't stop. His fingers were deep inside of her and she felt the build up start immediately. She was taking hard huffs of air, her soft moans pushing him on.

The second orgasm lasted for nearly two minutes and had her biting her lower lip so hard that she almost drew blood. Once he removed his hand she slid down to stand on her feet and had to wrap her arms around his shoulders in order to keep from falling to the floor. Her legs wouldn't work with her.

"You okay?" he whispered and she looked up at him with a dazed expression before she moved her head up to kiss him deeply.

"Your turn," she then whispered as well, bringing trembling fingers to the buckle of his belt.

***

Day Thirty-Four.

1.02 a.m.

"We can't be seen together like... this," she mumbled and he murmured his agreement sleepily. "I mean, outside these walls... we can't be too friendly. If Adam really is playing all Demon Trooper Leader here, we have to be careful. We don't know how he thinks, but... he has to be smart. We can't let him suspect anything is out of the ordinary. Then he might not..."

She trailed off and Spike stirred slightly, making her turn her head to look up at him. He met her gaze with eyes bearing a sad trace which made her heart softly ache. He was still unsure of what he was to her. So was she.

"Then he might not try to make contact," he murmured, filling in her interrupted sentence and she nodded slowly. "Don't worry, pet," he mumbled, closing his eyes again though she still watched his relaxing features. "The good guys always win these things. Your plan'll work like a charm."

She wanted to let one hand's fingertips caress his lower lip, she wanted to let them set their marks of feather light touch up his cheek. She wanted to tell him that no matter what - she didn't want to lose him... Not now.

But she held all of it back and put her head down on his chest again. Closing her eyes as well and gently drifting into dreamless sleep.

***

8.14 a.m.

Buffy swallowed another piece of her toast as Spike came from the trapdoor to join her in the crypt. She didn't look at him, merely pointed to the TV- screen and said:

"Soap's ahoy!"

He gave her a playful smack on the back of her head and she grinned, then he walked into the kitchen to grab himself some breakfast as well. She munched her toast gingerly and swallowed a mouthful of orange juice, not taking her eyes off the screen showing the cast of Passions, all in the middle of a loud argument having erupted between two of the members. A young girl and an older gentleman who kept running his hands through his grey streaked hair, in frustration or annoyance or anger or... Well, frankly it was hard to tell.

"So, I heard some news regarding..." Spike began and she raised one hand before flailing it as a gesture for him to be quiet.

He looked at her so transfixed by the screen and then he heard the signal of the show coming to a close.

"Oh, no! I wanted to know who the father of Destiny's bastard child is!" Buffy exclaimed and he could hear the mock-distress in her voice as she rose dramatically from the armchair before turning to him. "I feel ill," she added with the back of her hand to her forehead and a fatigued expression on her face.

"Shut the hell up," he muttered, still smirking.

"So, what did you hear?" she asked, coming up to him and watching him tear the top edge of the bag filled with heated blood and then pour the thick liquid into a clean mug.

"Pretty bad demon attack last night," he replied, facing her as he sipped the blood. "A buncha Initiatives got hurt," he added and the flash of concern travelling over her face made him more annoyed than he would have thought it could. "Don't worry, loverboy's quite safe," he muttered sourly before walking passed her and into the room.

Buffy furrowed her brow, turning to him and watching him as he once again faced her. He cocked an eyebrow at the questioning look on her face and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Loverboy?" she asked. "I hope you put a very large X in front of that word," she added and he slurped his blood without answering. She began to grow irritated. "Are you ALWAYS this insecure?" she demanded and at that he swallowed hard, giving her a glare as he put the mug down by the TV.

"I SAW how you reacted," he shot and she gave him a look before inquiring:

"And how was that - exactly?"

"Exactly?"

"Yes, please."

"Worried," he stated. "Scared that something had happened your precious little 'ex'."

She shook her head practically unnoticeably before she took a step forward.

"Riley is someone who's been a part of my life. I don't want anything bad to happen to him. I still care for him, Spike. Of course I was worried and scared, but that's all there was."

"Don't bloody call me insecure," he grumbled, barely looking at her now and she took the few paces up to him before she made him meet her gaze again.

"I think I understand," she merely replied.

He looked at her for a few seconds, then turned from her.

"You have to go," he said and she frowned. "School," he added, turning to look at her over his shoulder and she smiled tryingly.

He returned it, all be it meekly, and she left with a small lump in her stomach that wouldn't go away. She hadn't seen this side of him before... What were they really trying to build here? Did they even have the foundation for it? Did she trust him...? Did he trust her? Then again, what would she think if Drusilla decided to reappear? Spike had been with that crazed demon for one hundred years and beyond... If that wasn't love...?

God, what if I'm just his rebound object? she thought with her heart suddenly in her throat. No. No, Harmony was that...

She had to smile at the thought of Spike with that brainless twerp. He may have had a few really lousy plans of his own in his day, but he was smart. He was streetwise. And he used that to the max. Harmony... What had he been doing with her, anyway? What could the reason possibly have been for him to...

Insight hit her the next second and she shook her head at herself and her own naïveté. Of course the only reason for Spike to have a woman, he most likely couldn't stand, around him would be for the simple reason of having a woman around him. And in his bed. Of course.

Now the Slayer came to a harsh stop.

He most likely sweet talked that poor girl in between his sheets until she was so hooked that she couldn't bring herself to leave him. He manipulated her to stay with him and took advantage of the situation in every possible way that he could. And he could surely not have enjoyed Harmony's company or conversation...

"But WE talk," she said out loud to herself. "We even laugh..."

You're NOT Harmony, she stated firmly in her head. And you're not some cheap replica of Drusilla, either. Remember he told you he loves you? Remember how you found yourself compelled to believe him? Buffy, whatever it is that's there between you - don't run from it...

She drew a small breath.

What if there's nothing there? What if I'm really being played by him? What if he is just that good an actor? What if it's all been a mind game right from the start? What if he planned it this way? What if he has finally succeeded with one of those schemes that I've so easily seen through before? God, what if it's all been a lie?!

"Buffy..."

She twirled around, meeting Riley's gaze with one rather startled of her own.

"Hey," she then greeted, trying to keep the 'busted!' posture away from her as she knew full-well that he couldn't read her thoughts. "Hi," she added and he raised his eyebrows.

"Headed for campus?" he asked and she nodded. "Can I join you?" he wondered and once again she gave a small nod before they began to walk.

They were silent for a while and then Riley took it upon himself to speak as he said:

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper yesterday. I'm not angry... I'm just... confused."

"And let's not leave out disgusted, grossed out and abhorred," she grumbled.

He smiled a little.

"Let's not," he agreed silently. "Look, I wanted to see if I could find you 'cause we're going on a demon hunt and I wanted to know if you'd like to join."

She stopped, and turned to him with a questioning wrinkle between her eyebrows.

"This got anything to do with the team that got hit last night?" she asked and he gave her a wondering look. "Word... gets around," she explained.

"This has everything to do with the team that got hit last night," he stated. "We lost Willis. And we nearly lost Graham, too," he added and she blinked.

"Wow... I'm... I'm sorry to hear that," she said and he nodded.

"So? You game? We could really use your help."

"What kinda demon is it?" she wondered and he frowned.

"Does it matter?" he asked back and it was her turn to look questioning. "Look, we'll gag it and bag it - like all the rest. And then all I can do is hope they'll let me have a private moment with it."

"They're all the same to you, aren't they?" she asked and he raised his eyebrows. "Demons... They're all folded into one single category - bad."

Now he stared at her.

"What are you trying to say with that? 'Please - stop tracking my boyfriend'?" he snapped and she shook her head at him.

"That's not even..." she began, thinking better of it and taking another bend in the road with: "All I'm saying is that there are different degrees of..."

"Evil?" he filled in, sceptically, and she sighed.

"It's just different with... different demons. There are creatures - vampires, for example - that aren't evil at all," she replied and he rolled his eyes at her.

"Oh, come on!" he then exclaimed. "How blinded are you by this un-dead, not- living fiend anyway?! Don't you see what he's doing? Once he's gathered all the info on you that he needs to destroy you he'll kill you!"

"I wasn't referring to HIM," she stated coolly. " And he can't kill me, remember? You saw to that."

"And I think we haven't been thanked properly," Riley remarked.

"Thank you," she replied, her expression tight.

"You can't be serious with him, Buffy. He can't give you a life," Riley murmured. "All he can ever do is bring you death. In the end he'll make you miserable."

"But right now he makes me happy," she said with her eyes suddenly glistening with angered tears. "And I don't need you, or anybody else, judging that."

"Oh, and you're not judging yourself?" he inquired. "Have you told everybody about you? Giles, Xander, Willow? No, I bet you haven't. Because they couldn't possibly deal. Happy, Buffy? I don't think so. I don't believe that. I don't think that thing could spread anything but pain. And I can promise you that he WILL hurt you. I think deep down you know that too. Somehow he's made you refuse to see it..."

"You don't know anything at all," she grumbled, blinking the tears away with effort.

"Really? And without the chip in the back of his skull... would you be able to relax in his presence? It was only a month or so ago that he wanted nothing but your head on his wall. You think he's just snapped out of that? He's not a different degree of evil, Buffy - he's just the plain old kind. And he won't ever change. Not even for you."

With that he turned and left swiftly. She watched him go and then slowly got herself moving as well.

His words had dug into her already messed up thoughts and now they were settled there, rendering her powerless in her attempts to release herself of them. What if...? What if he was right? What if her own fears were true...? What if. What if. What if.

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*********************************TRApPeD************************************

Thirty-Eight: The Best of Intentions

By Annie

2003-06-08

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Day Thirty-Four.

8.59 a.m.

Willow looked up from where she was seated on her bed the next morning when Buffy opened, stepped through and then closed the door of the dorm room. The former was squeezing one of her favorite stuffed animals, a big white dog, and she looked rather thoughtful.

"Hey," Buffy said as she closed the door and then approached the foot of the bed.

"Hey," Willow replied. "You okay?" she added at the exasperated expression on her friend's face.

"Yeah," the latter answered, "just..." Trailing off she smiled dismissively before adding: "I don't wanna talk about it... I wanna hear about you and Oz," she continued, putting her bag down on the wooden chest to her left and then removing her jacket as she finished: "You saw him, right?"

Willow nodded a little.

"I was with him all night," she then replied and Buffy's eyes grew slightly.

"All night?!" she repeated, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Oh, my God! ...Wait... Last night was a wolf moon, right?"

"Yep," Willow confirmed.

"Either you're about to tell me something incredibly kinky or..." Buffy began, but Willow interrupted with a small smile.

"No kink," she said, pausing for a few seconds before she continued: "He didn't change, Buffy. He said he was gonna find a cure and he did. In... Tibet."

"Oh my God!" Buffy once more exclaimed. "I can't believe it! Okay... I'm all with the woo-hoo here, and... you're not," she added, rather wondering, and Willow raised her eyebrows slightly.

"No, there's woo! And hoo," she then assured. "But there's oh-oh, and why now...? And... it's complicated."

Buffy looked at her.

"Why complicated?" she asked, perplexed.

Willow drew a breath, then sighed.

"It's complicated," she answered, "because of Tara."

"You mean Tara has a crush on Oz?!" Buffy wondered, surprised and disbelieving. Then she shook her head a little, adding: "No, you..." Trailing off her eyes widened and she straightened her posture slightly. "Oh!" she said as she came to understand toward where Willow was going. "Oh," she then repeated and got to her feet. "Well, that's great!" she stated, beginning to as casually as possible move about the room though she felt as though her head was about to explode with questions. To keep it from actually doing so she hurried herself into speaking mode, saying: "You know... I mean, I think Tara is a great girl, Will."

"She is!" Willow nodded. "And there's something between us. It wasn't something I was looking for... It's just powerful. And it's totally different from what Oz and I have."

"Well, there you go, I mean... you know, you have to follow your heart, Will," Buffy now stated. "I mean, that's what's important, Will."

"Why do you keep saying my name like that?" Willow asked, furrowing her brow.

"Like what, Will?" Buffy asked back, stopping on the other side of the bed and looking down at her friend who now slowly sat herself up and leaned a little forward before she inquired:

"Are you freaked?"

"What?!" Buffy exclaimed. "No, Will..." She interrupted herself, frowning a little at herself before directing her gaze firmly in Willow's as she continued: "No. Absolutely 'no' to that question." Sitting down before the redhead again she added: "I'm glad you told me... I just can't help but wonder why you didn't...?"

As Buffy trailed off Willow's eyes lit up with realization before she filled in:

"Why I didn't tell you when you told me about Spike?"

"Yeah..." Buffy admitted. "I mean, wouldn't it have been the great opportunity? The window you'd been looking for? Bonding time. I spill my secrets, you spill yours?"

Willow eyed her for a few seconds before she replied:

"Lotta spilling, though."

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, adopting the formers fake-serenity.

"Mopping it up wouldn't have been all that fun," Willow then pointed out and Buffy nodded.

"True."

At that Willow smiled and Buffy returned it. Then they both let the actual seriousness of the conversation take hold again and Willow said:

"I just didn't wanna... you know. I didn't have that overwhelming 'pow' feeling that I should tell you that I'm kinda... with a girl."

Buffy smiled a crooked smile.

"How do we get ourselves into these messes? Well, not that your relationship is abnormal - like mine! But just, perhaps, not as we would have seen ourselves two or so years ago?"

Willow smirked at that.

"We live in Sunnydale; the future is unpredictable; you don't choose who you love..." she then replied before encouraging: "Take your pick."

"I think I need a few more options," Buffy sighed and Willow shook her head.

"Sorry. It's a mark A, B or C with an X sort of deal."

Buffy smiled slightly, then reached out and took one of Willow's hands in her own.

"I'm really glad that you told me," she said again and Willow returned her smile.

"Me too."

Buffy paused, then asked:

"What did you say to Oz?"

"I was gonna tell him..." Willow answered. "But then we just started to hang out and I could feel everything coming back... He's Oz, you know?"

"Yeah," Buffy agreed. "I know."

Willow's expression became rather filled with sadness, streaked with something close to agony. Her hand squeezed the Slayer's tighter as she said:

"I don't wanna hurt anyone, Buffy."

"No matter what," Buffy replied, as soothingly as she could: "somebody's gonna get hurt. And the important thing is: you just have to be honest, or it's gonna be a lot worse..."

Willow nodded and then they embraced in a tight hug.

***

11.06 a.m.

It was natural for her to care about that wishy-washy, bleak and weak excuse for a man. She had, after all, for a brief time allowed herself to feel something for him.

Spike turned onto his back on the sarcophagus, sighing.

What if she still felt it? Something like that didn't just go away. He didn't trust that wanker either. If he could, the bleached was rather certain, the human would try to win her back.

And Spike wasn't sure what she felt for HIM. It wasn't like she had declared them a couple... Or that they were even dating, sort of. All they did was shag, wasn't it? And talk about this and that... sometimes. It wasn't like they were trading life... or un-life stories. Like they knew the other inside and out. It wasn't like she was professing their whatever relationship to the world, or at least HER world... was it?

It's barely been a week, something grumbled in the back of his mind, irritated. A week! And you're already growing paranoid. You ARE insecure. You're so sodding insecure you'd rather have it end on a high note than stick with it. If you leave her...

He shook his head.

She'll leave me...

Stop this! It's bloody madness!

Right. That's right. Thinking that I can provide anything good for her IS downright madness. I'm buggered, I love her, and I can't stop. But I can do the right thing and...

And what?! You're not reasoning with yourself here, you're trying to persuade yourself to do something that every fiber in you screams no to. You're bloody insane!

Exactly. Bloody insane to think that I can prove myself to her. Ever. How could she ever love me back? It's painful to be without her, but being with her without having her completely there is torture!

Imagine her here.

Soft smile, gentle gaze, blonde hair, curves and tanned skin... An image of all that was worth anything. He could imagine her there...

Now watch her be pushed away by YOU, you bleeding fool. Are you gonna let her go? You'll miss her so much it'll be the second and very real death of you. You've gone over this already, remember?

Yes, I remember perfectly well, bloody hell! And I'll go over it a thousand sodding times till I get it right!

What's right is you with her. She's changed you.

No, she hasn't.

Yeah, she has.

No! I don't NEED her! I won't crumple up and disappear if I don't have her with me! She won't ever trust me enough for this to be real! The only reason she's with me now is 'cause I'm leashed!

He clenched his jaws together as he reminded himself of the damn chip infesting his being.

Would she really be all relaxed around him if he was a true threat again?

The noise of slow and extremely thumping steps across the floor to his left made him glide out of his musings and have his vampire senses all be set on immediate alert. Meeting the hand being brought down to strike by the perpetrator, with his own left hand, he kept his eyes closed as he said:

"By the sound of those massive mud-flaps I'd peg you as a demon; which means you're in for a world of..." Opening his eyes and seeing the immense form standing by the side of where he lay he trailed off, stared, and then sat up; finishing: "...pain."

Getting the blanket off of him before removing himself off the sarcophagus he then moved to stand a few feet away from the demon.

Adam.

It had to be.

As Spike rose Adam spoke.

"Spike," he said, voice dark. "I want you to come with me."

Spike eyed him suspiciously as well as hesitantly. He had seen with his own two blues what this guy did to the demons he encountered. Cutting them open like a fish on a stick. That really wasn't the sorta contact he was looking to make, nor did he believe that was what Buffy had intended for him.

Okay, he told himself. Stay sharp. Try his strength.

"Do you?" he therefore asked. "Well, let's go then," he added with a shrug, about to turn away when he swirled back and punched the beast in the stomach.

His knuckles connected with soft tissue and then something he could only class as metal beneath it. It hurt like hell. Adam didn't even flinch.

"Ao," Spike grumbled, facing the other once more.

"Come," Adam now said, taking a step forward and having Spike, in self- preservation, take one back; still eyeing the former, now with a hint of fearful edginess. "You are going to help me with my problem," Adam added and Spike blinked.

"Why's that exactly?" he then asked.

"I'm going to help you with yours," Adam replied.

Ten minutes later the master plan had been unfolded. Spike had to hand it to the scraps-of-humans-and-not-so-muchs: the Initiative had made sure to give him a pretty bloody big brain. He also had to admit that he wasn't sure that he disliked the proposition the other had just placed on the table.

"Well, that sounds like a lotta fun," he now smirked.

"You see my problem, though?" Adam inquired. "Total destruction of the humans doesn't help me. I need heavy casualties on both sides."

"I get that," Spike nodded. "I'm still not sure where the Slayer fits in."

"The humans need a leader," Adam answered him. "A champion. The Slayer can do that."

"Yeah," Spike said slowly. "The thing about the Slayer is: she is a whiny little thing, but when it comes to the fighting she does have a slight tendency to win."

Adam looked at him, stating:

"Then I guess you should be on her side."

Spike let a tentative smile grow onto his features, laced with an irony he was sure the other demon couldn't read before he replied:

"This all goes down, the chip comes out, yeah? No tricks?"

"Scouts honour," Adam assured and Spike gave him an incredulous look at that.

"YOU were a boy scout?" he then asked.

"Parts of me," came the reply.

***

1.22 p.m.

Buffy pulled on a clean sweater and grabbed her brush off the desk by the door. Standing in front of her mirror she quickly began to sort out her tangled locks and got to thinking of five particular days when she hadn't had access to such a device. When her hair had been dusty and completely messed up until... Until a spray of water cleaned it... and caused all hell to break loose.

What AM I doing with him? What future do we have?

She put the brush down just as the door opened and a leather clad form stepped through it.

"Spike," she couldn't help but smile as his eyes met hers.

Toning it down she then turned and walked up to her bed, where she was packing a bag with the most necessary stuff for what she might be on the brink of doing.

She had met Willow in one of the corridors, the latter upset and anxious, explaining what had happened to Oz. The Initiative had him, and Buffy knew that she HAD to get him out of there. Otherwise something terrible was bound to happen to him. Those 'soldier boys' sure didn't seem to care what origin a demon had - as long as some part WAS demon it deserved a slow and painful death.

She wasn't about to let that happen.

"Going into battle?" he asked as he watched her pack her crossbow and then a few stakes.

"Just might be," she nodded, facing him again. "It's daylight..." she added and he smirked.

"Took the tunnels," he replied.

She glanced at him. He knew what was on her mind.

"We okay?" she asked and he smiled a small smile at that, reassuring her that of course, that his display of jealousy earlier hadn't lasted.

"What? No kiss?" he then asked and she felt a butterfly flutter eagerly near her heart before she took the steps up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He blinked, rather surprised. She held onto him so tightly...

"Is something the matter, pet?" he wondered and she shook her head against his shoulder.

"Well, in a way," she then corrected herself, pulling away to look up at him. "Oz has been captured."

Spike frowned.

"Captured? Last night?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Around noon... I think," she answered and his frown deepened.

"But... it's day."

"As said. Something happened... I don't know," she sighed. "I have to go to Giles'. The gang's meeting up there."

She stepped out of his arms and walked back to the bed, returning to what she had been doing. He observed her movements for a few moments, then said:

"I'm actually here on official business."

She turned her head to look at him, quizzical. He smiled a little at her expression, hooking his thumbs in his belt before elaborating:

"Had me a meeting this morning. Mighty interesting fellow too. I think he's been the sodding soar of milady's eye for some time. You can say his name anytime now..."

"Adam?" she breathed and he nodded. "You saw him?!"

"Yeah... the 'had me a meeting' wasn't all part of the hinting for nothing, love," he replied sarcastically and she gave him a look.

"What did he say?" she asked and he shrugged.

"Master plan blah-blah-blah, demon elite blah-blah-blah, carnage and bloodbath blah...blah...and all that," he replied and she stared at him.

"So... he told you about what he's planning?" she asked and he nodded.

"The whole nine yards. Give me a pen and paper and I'll paint you a pretty picture of it," he then said and she smirked.

"This is..." she trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Terrific? Amazing? Bleeding incredible is what it is," he filled in helpfully. "Don't worry, hon, I've got it all locked away up here," he added, tapping one temple with one index finger before continuing: "and once the whole Wolverine issue's buggering dealt with - I'll bring all the juicy details out for you, okay?"

She smiled a little, then nodded.

"You're right, I should get going."

He tilted his head a little to one side, looking questioning. She blinked, then shook her head at herself.

"Sorry, WE should get going," she then stated, grabbing the bag and slinging it over one shoulder before she walked up to him and passed him, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door.

He followed.

"So, where are the tunnels?" she asked and he gave her another look. "Well, I'm not gonna sprint all the way to Giles' just 'cause you burn easily," she added and he smirked widely at that before gesturing to his right, bidding her to take the lead.

She did and they walked toward the stairs leading into the basement.

"Oh no," she grumbled as they stopped before the door to the staircase. "This usually doesn't get me anywhere," she muttered and he slid his hand into hers, making her look up at him and at the expression in his gaze she had to smile. "I take back previous statement," she murmured and he returned her smile before he bent down and kissed her.

They proceeded through the door, down the stairs and further into the large basement. Soon enough they came to a man-sized whole in one wall and Spike stopped before it.

"So, what was the deal?" Buffy asked as she followed him into the tunnel which was to take them into the sewer system and further to Giles' apartment.

"Deal?" Spike wondered, walking quickly with her keeping his pace beside him.

"With Adam," she replied. "Why did he seek you out?"

"He needs my help," Spike answered with a rather large smirk once again growing onto his features as he added: "With you."

She looked up at him; then laughed, shaking her head.

"Perfect," she said. "That's just perfect. We'll have to set our own trap and watch him fall into it," she added and Spike nodded.

They walked on for a while in silence, and then Buffy wondered:

"What did he promise you? I mean, there must be something in it for you, right?"

"Money," he replied, barely without thinking about it. "He'll get me loads and loads of cash."

What are you doing?! a voice piped up in his head. You can't LIE to her about that! Tell her! Tell her the truth! Hurry!

"Seems he knows your deepest desires," Buffy remarked with another smile and he once again returned it.

"Yep," he then agreed. "Seems he really does, doesn't it?"

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Thirty-Nine: When She's Gone

By Annie

2003-06-11

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

Day Thirty-Five.

9.07 a.m.

Spike rested his head back, slumping down in the armchair and bringing the half-emptied glass of bourbon to his mouth. It wasn't spreading through him fast enough. It wasn't giving him the release he needed from the thoughts churning through his mind.

She was in Los Angeles.

She hadn't told him exactly why she was going, just that she simply had to. And he had let her go without any fuss because he could already see on her that she was more than serious. This was something she needed to do.

He wanted numbness. He craved it. But it wouldn't set in.

"Spike?"

He turned his head sharply to the door; staring at the human form in the doorway, her eyes staring back.

"What're you doing here, Red?" he finally asked, taking another mouthful of the liquor and praying for it to soak his head.

Willow observed him in silence for a few moments, narrowing her eyes as she watched the haggard expression on his face. He looked more tired than she thought she had ever seen him. Stripped of his arrogance and reduced into something that seemed built by nothing but emotion, and worries. She wondered how much Buffy had disclosed about the trip to L.A - and Angel. It couldn't have been much.

"Can I come in?" she asked and he glared at her, then his face softened and he let forth a smile, shaking his head a little.

"You would be the one to bloody ask before stepping into someone's home, wouldn't you?" he then more stated than inquired and she smiled tentatively back as he signed for her to join him. "You're not like Buffy... barging in where she doesn't belong..." he trailed off, his gaze caught in the golden color of the drink in his hand and then he huffed, once again bringing the edge of the glass to his lower lip, letting it rest there for a second and then swallowing the rest of the liquid down.

"I wanted to say thank you," Willow declared and she immediately had his eyes in hers again.

He looked disbelieving.

"For what?" he asked and she smiled a very small smile at that.

"For what you did," she then answered. "For what you did for Oz."

Spike shrugged, getting to his feet and walking passed her, into the kitchen.

"We couldn't have gotten him outta there without your help," she continued. "I can't tell you..."

"And I couldn't have gotten him outta there without the sodding help of Adam," he interrupted, grabbing the bottle containing his chosen companion for the evening and filling his glass again. "So you go flap the bloody banner of honor over someone else's head 'cause I ain't worth it," he added, putting the bottle down with a harsh bang and she jerked, watching him before she shook her head slightly.

"No," she then disagreed silently. "Adam wasn't the one who fought with us down there, YOU were. I don't know what your plan is... I don't know if what you really wanna do is kill all of us and throw a party once it's done... And I'm not sure why you're doing what you're doing. But last night you showed me that some small part of you cares, otherwise you wouldn't have done what you did when you did it."

"I'm still dangerous, you know," he muttered and she smiled.

"Seems to me the persons most eager to tell everyone how 'evil' they are - are the ones who actually have something more to them," she replied and the shadow of a smile drew over his mouth before he took a mouthful of the bourbon and swallowed it down hard.

"You're blind," he grumbled.

"Maybe I'm not the only one who thinks so," she remarked, eyebrows rising slightly and he blinked at the small hint in her posture.

Buffy?

"All I wanted to say was thank you," Willow now repeated. "You saved the life of someone who means a lot to me. I think I owe you some sort of benefit of the doubt," she added and he eyed her before she turned and walked back up to the door. "Oh, and if you ARE planning on hurting any of us," she said, stopping in the doorway and looking at him again, "especially those of us who have more faith in you than others... I'd advice strongly against it."

He furrowed his brow questioningly as he watched her disappear through the door.

What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean? It sounded like an indirect reference to Buffy...

But the Slayer hadn't told anyone anything. So had the Wicca figured it out? Or was he just reading way too much into it? Well, for about five minutes he had been able to forget about why he felt like he had been hit by a bloody train. That was always something.

***

11.45 p.m.

She closed the door to the dorm room and walked up to her bed. Placing herself on it she tried to calm herself. It hadn't exactly been the ride-of- fun-and-fondness, that she secretively had been very prepared for, seeing Angel again. But right now that was rather far from her mind.

She was afraid. Afraid of what this might've caused in form of a splinter between Spike and her... She hadn't been able to explain why she had to leave so suddenly. That there wasn't an apocalyptic matter per say, but... Well, she wasn't sure that Spike would understand, no matter what aspect she tried to explain it from.

She felt terrible, especially since she had a hunch that whatever there had been, and in some ways still was, in way of rivalry between Spike and her it was nothing at all compared to that which had been going on between her currant lover and his grandsire for the past twelve decades or so.

She thought she could detect an air of respect from Spike, one that he never showed anyone else, whenever Angel's name was mentioned. She had to wonder if that was what pissed him off to the extreme, that he couldn't get rid of the slight awe he clearly held for the older vamp.

She had asked him about the two's relationship more than once while they were locked in that spell, but he never really had given her an answer, had he? She wondered what the big deal really was... Spike had said it to be the regular kind of competitiveness, but she knew there had to be more to it. Drusilla was probably a major factor, she seemed to have done nothing but add to the tension between the two vampires. But then what? A brotherly love-hate sort of thing? There had to be a time during which the two could share hunting and living without having to watch their backs all the time...

It puzzled her. She hoped it wouldn't always be that way, but she had a nagging feeling that she shouldn't refer to Angel even in the slightest for a while to come.

Angel...

He had disappointed her. She never would have thought that he could do that.

Spike.

She wanted to see him. She actually longed for him and it sort of frightened her in a strangely exciting sense of that word. The emotion was exquisite in a way she had never experienced before. The thought of him angry or upset with her... It wasn't pleasant. But she was so tired, and so mentally beat up by what had happened in Los Angeles, and she knew she'd just mess everything up even more if she went to see him now.

Tomorrow. She would gather her strength and see him tomorrow.

She still had her doubts when it came to him, to them; her own insecurities to work through, but being away from him had somehow granted her perspective on certain things. On things regarding herself, and how she felt. Because truth was, being away from him had made her realize that she did feel something... more. It had made her understand that she did trust him - in what he said that he felt for her. She could see it. So help her, she could see it and she couldn't ignore that. It was real. It was there. And she had seen a change in him... as well as different sides to him.

She owed him her life.

She KNEW he wouldn't have saved her - he wouldn't have gone through the trouble - simply to screw with her head. No. No way.

He was in love with her; for some reason still not quite clear to her he loved her. And she knew all the holes in the happily-ever-after theory. But if she could make him believe in it, then she should at least allow him the chance to make her believe in it too.

She wanted to trust him. Fully.

She thought she would entrust him with her life, if it came to that.

But her heart?

She closed her eyes.

Tomorrow...

***

Day Thirty-Six.

6.45 a.m.

She was running through a forest, the trees stood in tight rows on both her sides and they were tall enough to shut out any piece of sky. It was dark, wet and she had a feeling that she wasn't alone. That the other someone was someone whom she was looking for, and knowing that that someone was out there sent her a feeling of comfort.

Suddenly a root tripped her and she rolled down a small ridge, landing on a soft bed of moss. She lay on her side, eyes closed and a smile on her mouth when a branch from a nearby bush began to poke her shoulder from behind. She tried to brush it away, but there seemed to be no use. It was innerving and finally she turned her head to look over at it, murmuring:

"What do you WANT?"

Opening her eyes she was in her dorm room, in her bed, and she looked into two blue eyes that she knew well. Spike arched an eyebrow, then replied:

"I want you to wake up, is what I want."

She tried to get the disorientation from sleep out of her head as she blinked and turned onto her back, propping herself up on her elbows and staring at him.

"What? What time is it?" she asked, trying to remember where she had her clock and coming up empty handed as she still felt completely upside down.

"Almost seven," he answered.

"In the morning?!" she exclaimed and he smirked. "Oh, go away, you evil man! I can sleep for another hour," she added, lying back down and pulling her pillow over her head.

"I waited for you last night," he said and she grew still before she removed the pillow in favor of meeting his gaze again.

"I wasn't sure that you would be," she admitted hesitantly and he smiled meekly.

"That the reason why you didn't come?" he wondered and she drew a small breath, pulling herself up into a seated position and looking down on her hands as she struggled to think of what she should be saying to him; and what she should not.

"Spike..."

"I got tired of waiting," he cut her off, rising from the chair he had been seated on. "I wanted to see if you were okay. If you were back. And you are, and... you are."

She looked at up at him, wanting to find the words so badly, but failing.

"Right," he mumbled, turning from her and starting toward the door.

"You woke me up just to say that?" she asked and he stopped in front of the door, looking back at her with a small smile which seemed sad as well and she swallowed.

"No, love," he simply said before turning the knob, opening the door and stepping through it.

She watched it for a while after it had closed, thinking she could probably have handled that a bit better.

***

6.54 a.m.

He had wanted to ask her about what had happened. But spending nearly half an hour watching her sleep had taken the will right out of him to know anything that might harm him. He had given her the power she now held over him without being able to stop himself. It just went to show what he had always suspected: he was a sad sodding wanker. He had just done such a bloody good job at covering it up all these years.

***

10.20 a.m.

There was a knock and she put the magazine, which she had been eye- devouring for the past fifteen minutes, down on her bed before rising and walking up to the door. Trying her best to look ill, since she had decided to cut class on grounds of not feeling very well, she opened the door slowly.

"Spike?" she said and he smiled a little, leaning against the doorframe casually.

She returned the smile, not able to hide her surprise. She hadn't thought she'd be seeing him for a while and she had decided the best thing to do was probably to give him his space. But here he was, and she was taken off guard by how happy she was that he had come back.

He got rid of his smile with effort as he raised his eyebrows in question.

"You NEVER ask for permission," she remarked and he couldn't resist a smirk, his eyes turning meaningful and she shook her head at him. "Okay, once you've been formally invited," she elaborated and he tilted his head to one side, eyeing her in continuing silence and she observed him back before taking a step out of the way.

He came inside and she closed the door.

She turned to face him.

With the window behind him, the light lining his form with a visible aura, there was a softness to his whole being that made her all the more certain of what she was feeling and thinking being right. Being with him was like being on an adventure twenty-four/seven; not that she really needed more of that in her everyday life, but he was the good part of it. And that was what made bits of her insecurity melt away.

At this thought she smiled at him tentatively and he returned it.

"I wanted to tell you," he said, continuing: "that I've had another meeting with Adam... He expects me to break your posse up," he added and she blinked. "Soon."

"Okay," she nodded. "Then we'll make him believe you've succeeded. No biggie."

He nodded as well, glancing about the room with his nerves slowly curling up on themselves as he didn't know what he wanted to do next. On one hand there was the kissing bit. On the other there was the her-just-maybe-having- kissed-Angel bit that made the bleached blonde want to gag. And walk out again.

"I figured you'd wanna know," he murmured, meeting her eyes with his own once more.

She looked rather uneasy as well and he thought that was his signal to just leave. But he couldn't move.

"I did," she confirmed. "Thank you."

"Oh," he shrugged. "All part of the deal," he then grumbled, looking at her almost hesitantly before turning and walking passed her up to her desk.

Looking through her cd's he wanted to find something clever to say. Something snappy or some remark that would throw her. He used to be good at that; now his tongue seemed pinned down and motionless. He wished he could at least have yelled at her, have demanded an explanation as to what the hell she had been thinking, have demanded an answer to the question circling in his head: why?

Why had she gone in the first place? Why had she so suddenly needed to see the one person who could be described as the love of her life? Why wasn't she talking? Why had she ever let him near her?!

Everything had been simpler if she could have used just one scrap of that immense strength she harbored to push him away right from the start.

"Why aren't you in class?" he asked, in lack of anything clever or snappy.

"I'm just... tired," she answered and he smiled faintly, turning to her again.

"Right, from the traveling," he muttered and she was about to say something when he continued: "I don't wanna... hear 'bout it. I don't wanna bloody pretend it even happened... But, while were on the subject - was there any buggering SPECIAL reason you had to bloody go see him?"

"Spike, I..."

"No. No, I don't wanna bloody hear it," he shook his head, seemingly taking back his question; question-mark and all.

"There was... nothing," she tried. "Nothing at all. A few hello's and a few good-bye's and that's it. Nothing interesting."

At that he turned his head to her, observing her sharply for nearly ten seconds before he said slowly:

"You don't wanna talk to me 'bout this, do you?"

She licked her lips.

"No, I-I do! It's just..."

"What? Another part of your life that's none of my business?" he interrupted her once more and she blinked, taking a step forward.

He didn't understand.

"Don't worry," he sighed. "I really don't wanna sodding know. Not any of it."

He brushed passed her, this time as he walked up to the door, and she shook her head.

"But there's nothing to..." she began, looking at where he should have been on his way out, but wasn't, and trailing off.

He was gone. She sighed.

What else could possibly happen to stir this already spinning situation?

***

8.16 p.m.

Spike entered his crypt, sliding the duster off his shoulders. He had spent the day thinking up a plan good enough to hopefully deceive Adam, and then he had presented the part of it which the latter should be included in to the monster. He had seemed pleased enough. Spike had steered clear of Buffy for the remainder of the day, keeping himself busy with gathering more information on Adam as well as the Initiative.

Now he sighed and walked up to the telly, turning it on and watching the slowly emerging pictures taking form on the screen. Then he turned and proceeded into the kitchen. Opening up the fridge he reached in to bring out a jar filled with blood, but he froze in the middle of the movement and then he straightened his back again. Shutting the door he then turned around to face his unannounced visitor.

He smirked.

"You look like hell," he stated.

"I was attacked," Angel scoffed. "See how good YOU'D look if you had four strangers jump out on you from all sides."

"All sides?" Spike asked and Angel nodded.

"ALL sides."

They grew silent, as well as serious.

"This town ain't what it used to be," Spike said. "There are things underground that you and I couldn't even bloody fathom, back in our glory days."

Angel smiled a small smile at that. Spike could see the broodiness resting right beneath the surface. Always the shadow lying over the other vampire's eyes. Always the burden he had to bear threatening to break through his composed exterior at any time.

"A few above ground as well," Angel then replied and Spike arched his scarred eyebrow.

Turning he walked further into the kitchen again, bringing out two glasses from one of the cabinets. Getting a bottle of whiskey from another he returned to face his old comrade.

"Drink?" he asked and Angel looked at the amber liquid before giving a shrug and a nod why not.

Spike set the two glasses down on the tattered counter to his left and opened the bottle, pouring until both of the former were half full before putting the bottle down beside them. There were too many questions; he couldn't pick which one to ask first.

He reached one of the glasses out and Angel took it.

"To love and prosperity," he said, raising it and Spike had a glint of recognition occur in his eyes.

"May they both be offered in plenty, in reverence and eternity," he then finished a toast which to them, over the course of fifteen years, had been more familiar than the shirts on their backs.

They raised their glasses half an inch, and then both emptied the contents in one swoop. Swallowing they looked at each other again. The quiet once more growing thick between them.

"What made you return?" Angel asked.

"What made you?" Spike retorted and the tension began to build.

"What about Dru?" Angel inquired and Spike huffed.

"Yeah, what about her?" he then asked back.

"I thought you loved her," Angel pointed out and Spike shook his head.

"So did I," he then stated.

Angel's jaw tightened and he paused before he said:

"I don't know what the hell you think you're doing, but I'm positive it's nothing good."

Spike put his glass down and took a step forward, keeping his gaze in the others without wavering for a second. A challenge.

"How the bloody hell did you even find me?" he murmured.

"Didn't take a genius," Angel answered.

"Lucky you," Spike shot and Angel's gaze hardened as well.

They grew silent once again, and then Spike spoke up.

"You, if anyone, should know what the sod she does to a bloke," he grumbled. Angel stiffened even further at that, knowing all too well that Spike was speaking in no reference to Drusilla this time. "I'm in love with her," Spike added and Angel's hand moved the next moment, grabbing the shorter vamp by the throat. "If she told you," the latter croaked out, "it must mean something to her, too!"

Angel let him go with another huff.

"She didn't tell me," he then stated. "Not flat out."

"But she mentioned it?" Spike wondered, not able to hide the subtle hope in his voice and Angel stared at him.

"You don't deserve her," he merely replied.

Spike ground his teeth in growing irritation.

"This what you bleeding came here for? A buggering lecture?" he asked.

"You can't say you don't know that I'm right," Angel said and Spike glared at him.

"Get out," he demanded, voice lowered.

"Buffy's out of your league," the older merely continued. "Don't tell me that's not the second or third thought that runs through your mind every time you see her."

"Get out!" Spike repeated. "Get out, or I'll throw you out."

"That won't be necessary," Angel replied coolly. "I didn't come back to see YOU."

"Stay away from her," Spike warned, voice quivering with both anger and a sudden rush of fear that he was on the brink of loosing her.

"No," the dark-haired simply brushed him off, turning to walk up to the door.

Spike was the one who threw the first punch.

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