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

Twenty-Four: As It Grows

By Annie

2003-04-24

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

Day Seventeen.

9.42 a.m.

Buffy woke slowly. Stretching she yawned and then Willow's voice made her open her eyes fully to look over at her friend, who was sitting on her own bed brushing her hair.

"You were out late last night," she said and Buffy nodded a little, pulling herself up to sit with her back leaned against the headboard. "Any Adam sightings?" Willow added and the latter shook her head as a response. "What time DID you get back?"

"Oh... I'm not sure," Buffy answered, throwing her covers off and getting to her feet. "Patrolling kinda dragged time out, you know? You get to that point where you're not sure if it's night or morning anymore."

Willow smiled hesitantly.

"Right," she agreed. "Buffy... Is there something you wanna tell me?"

A chill of surprise iced the Slayer's back and then she shrugged it off impatiently. Willow was her best friend, she wouldn't hold the formers socializing with Spike against her. Buffy felt foolish for even having an ounce of worry, for such a thing to occur, within her. And so she faced the redhead with the decision to tell her everything that had happened... Well, practically everything - minus a few more intimate details.

"I saw you," Willow said before Buffy had a chance to open her mouth and speak, and the latter turned into an ashy shade of white at the hurt expression on Willow's face. "Last night I saw you."

"What?" Buffy wondered slowly, her head filling with cotton. "Who?"

"You," Willow replied. "And Spike."

Buffy swallowed.

"What were you doing out by yourself?" she then asked and Willow rolled her eyes before shaking her head, getting to her feet as well.

"This isn't about MY safety, it's about YOURS. What were you doing with him?" she demanded and Buffy felt the cotton swell, her thoughts fighting for air, she couldn't find them or make them move to her mouth in order to be spoken. "Buffy," Willow tried, voice filled with concern, "what really happened in that basement? Please, tell me. Don't you trust me?"

Buffy's eyes grew at that.

"Of course I trust you, Will!" she then answered, walking up to her and taking her hands. "It's not... I just don't know how to explain," she added and Willow furrowed her brow.

"'Explain' what?" she wondered and Buffy bit her jaws together before motioning for them to have a seat on Willow's bed.

They did and Buffy tried to collect herself. Pressing the cotton down she regained some control over her mind and she took a breath to ease the pain from the heaviness with which her heart was beating. Looking up she met Willow's gaze and then she said:

"We've come to sort of an understanding," and Willow's eyebrows rose. Buffy continued: "Spike's gonna help me...us..."

"Why?!" Willow exclaimed, voice filled with the surprise clear on her face and Buffy smiled slightly.

"Frankly... I don't know," she then replied.

Because he can't be feeling something that he really shouldn't be feeling, she instructed herself for the thousandth time since he and her had parted at half past four that morning, and for the three-thousandth time since he had touched her the way he had when they were still on patrol.

The hours had floated by quietly enough. They had gone to Willy's - now unnecessarily renamed Willy's Place, or so Buffy thought since a coat of paint and French waiters still wouldn't be enough to make that shack "classy" - and gotten some more information out of him. No more saves, but quite a few slays and another nest cleared out. Spike had proven himself to her. He had been fast and strong and original. Flexible when he needed to be and actually they made a pretty good team.

Team? Buffy. No.

But...yes.

And he was...different, somehow. The attitude was still there, that was for sure. But...

Derailing that train of thought she remembered where she was and with whom she was having a conversation that was pretty important and so she brought herself back into present time, looking at Willow who was waiting for an elaboration of the Slayer's former statement.

"I know he's not trustworthy, and I really do NOT trust him... But a few nights ago he saved my life; and then, two nights ago, he did it again," she now said and at that Willow's eyes grew round.

"He SAVED you? I didn't think that would be possible when it came to him. He's always seemed so...grr," the redhead stated and Buffy smiled wider at that before she nodded.

"Tell me about it! I was more than shocked and...actually he hasn't really given me an answer to why he did it yet," she then muttered thoughtfully. "But anyways, I told him to choose a side a few days ago 'cause this whole thing with Adam had me so thrown - and two nights ago he did. And he chose ours."

"But, Buffy, this is Spike we're dealing with here... And if you can't trust him...?"

"No, I know," Buffy interrupted. "But we agreed that we'd have this code of honor thing-y, and that was HIS idea 'cause he doesn't wanna stand by me without any assurance, you know?"

Willow looked clearly skeptical.

"'Code of honor'?" she then asked and Buffy smirked.

"I know, sounds all James Bond meets... whatever great war-movie that's out there, but I believe in it," she replied.

Willow blinked, then frowned.

"So, you trust him to hold up his end of the bargain?" she inquired and Buffy paused, then shook her head.

"No, it's not like that," she assured.

"Then what's it like? I wanna get with the program here, but what are you saying? He's a Scoob?" Willow wondered and Buffy shook her head violently at that.

"No, not a Scoob - he's just a string of information ready to be milked at any time. And if anyone can - HE'LL be the one who's gonna be able to get close to Adam," she then stated and Willow grew wondering. "If the time should present itself," Buffy added and Willow furrowed her brow.

"So, you're just using him?" she asked and Buffy shrugged.

"Hey, he's using me," she replied. "There's just a buncha rolled up usage going on between the two of us," she added, rising to her feet and into another stretch before relaxing with a huff. "Have you eaten breakfast?" she asked, looking over her shoulder as she walked up to her closet to pick out an outfit for the day.

"No, I haven't gotten around to it," Willow replied. "But, this with Spike... He's not gonna hang around with you - or us - is he?"

Buffy shook her head, grabbing a brown sweater off its shelf and holding it up.

"Nope, Wills. No hanging whatsoever," she assured, throwing the sweater on her bed and grabbing a pair of black jeans to go with it.

"And you're not gonna hang around...him?" she asked and Buffy stopped what she was doing - which was pulling her pajama top over her head - to stare at her friend.

"I BEG your pardon?" she then grumbled, finishing the pulling and tossing the fabric aside as she grabbed the sweater.

"Well, from what I saw last night... I dunno, you seemed... friendly," Willow mumbled tentatively and Buffy raised her eyebrows before she smiled incredulously.

"Friendly? Spike? ME? Are you sure it was US you saw 'cause I can promise you - whenever we're in too close proximity of one another sparks fly," she then answered and Willow narrowed her eyes at that statement. Buffy realized how she had phrased it about two seconds later and hurriedly added: "I mean that as in sparks from hell and filled with rage and lust to...kill. Each other, mostly! And bad, bad things happen... from the sparks."

"From hell," Willow filled in helpfully and Buffy smiled a small smile at that, then nodded.

"Right," she said and Willow returned her smile.

"Right," she then agreed silently.

***

6.33 p.m.

He felt nervous.

It was crazy - but that was how he felt as he waited for her, located beneath a big oak in the same cemetery hosting his crypt.

He had tried to pace the emotion out of him, but that didn't work; merely encouraged it to grow. Then he had decided on standing as still as possible being the better solution; but that had also been a mistake. As he began to grow fidgety and unsure of what to do with his hands he had just about turned and given to whole thing up, but then her voice had spoken his name and made him stay where he was, turning his head to look at her as she approached him.

"Here," she said, handing him a handful of stakes - three, to be exact - and then continuing passed him.

"What - no bloody wrapping? You sure do know how to take the fun outta it," he muttered with a touch of wryness and she moved her head to give him a look over her shoulder.

He merely smirked.

"We need to get going," she stated, picking up her pace and he followed, coming up to walk beside her.

"And where to?" he asked, tucking the weapons into the right hand pocket of the duster.

"I don't know," she snapped. "Just...somewhere. Everywhere."

"Me thinkest me hearest a touch of-..."

"Look," she interrupted, stopping and turning to him with a face very much drained from its last drops of patience, "I've barely slept in three days... I'm entitled the mood I'm in right now, okay? And that mood clearly lets me know just how little I wanna listen to your constant..."

"Blathering? Blabbering? Yammering? Yada-yada? ...-ing?" he filled in and she rolled her eyes to the sky. "So why did you wanna meet up?" he wondered as she got going again, and he did as well.

"I didn't WANT to, but I HAD to," she grumbled.

"Oh, right, you HAD to," he nodded, making her look at him again. "Well, I'm sorry, pet, but since when did you EVER 'have' to have me as company on one of your bloody field trips?"

She glared at him, realizing that she had no good response to that.

"Is it MY fault you proved so useful?" she asked and the lingering smirk widened.

"Was that supposed to be an insult?" he shot and she met his gaze for a few moments, then cleared her throat and looked away.

"Adam's been on a killing rampage ever since he broke free of the Initiative's lame-ass straps. He's merciless and cruel and I wanna put an end to it," she said now, meeting the blue with her green and seeing how the former seemed to come to be hit with just how serious she was. "Tonight," she finished.

"If any of what you've told me is true," he now replied, "you can't really say that you think you're gonna be able to just sodding blow him outta the water."

"No," she admitted. "That's why I need you."

He stopped, tilting his head questioningly to one side as he eyed her for a few moments.

"For what?" he asked.

"Adam's gonna contact you," she answered him. "I hope," she added, causing him to smile a little before she continued. "I'm just betting he will, sooner or later, run into you and then..."

She trailed off, looking up at this vampire before her, this form of a man with his eyes so searching, and suddenly she realized this might just get him killed. Well, more killed. The thought made her feel so uncomfortable she almost wanted to crawl out of her own skin.

Using him, remember?!

Right. Using. Just as he was her.

"Then?" he now wondered and she brought herself out of her thoughts in the next instant.

"Then you'll make him trust you and... I dunno, I haven't PLANNED the whole thing; we'll just have to take it one step at a time and hopefully everything 'll run smooth enough," she replied with as much nonchalance as she could.

It seemed to be a tad too much since he raised his eyebrows before asking:

"Hopefully? What if it sodding blows up in my face? I take it you won't be close enough to even feel the bloody after-shock!"

She licked her lips, putting a hand up by her forehead and rubbing it tiredly, trying to get her mind cleared. What had she just said to him that made him have this explosion? She needed to sit down, or lean against something, or...

His arms caught her and steadied her when she stumbled to the side. She closed her eyes, battling back the sleep-deprivation and the constant tearing on her nerves from this never seizing worrying. That child, the little boy that had died... He was still haunting her and she felt so powerless.

"You need to go home," Spike's voice simmered through her heavy thoughts. "Get some sleep, love."

"I can't!" she whined, looking up at him with the fatigue painting her gaze and sketching her features. "I can't, Spike! That's just it. I can't sleep. I have to find him, kill him.get him outta my head!"

"Shh," he mumbled softly. "Listen to me," he added, making her meet his gaze steadily before he continued: "You WILL find him, don't you bloody worry about it..." He stared down at her, taken by the sudden frailty on her. "'Cause you will," he mumbled. "I know you will..."

Dreadfully close. That was what he was. He reminded her of all the candy- covered delights he could do to her, invoke within her...with his hands...and those lips...

Her own hands had been clasping his lower arms, finding her balance thanks to them, but now they slowly moved a few inches up over the leather of his duster and her eyes grew slightly as her feet took the small step dividing their bodies. Her eyes didn't leave his as their faces drifted closer to the other, and then she let her eyelids shut out the rest of the world.

The sound of a creaking rope made them both come back from the place they had almost been taken and they looked at each other for a second before they slowly turned their heads to it. Buffy's eyes widened at the sight of the strung up and gutted demon hanging in the tree to her right.

"Holy crap," she murmured.

"You can bloody well say that again," Spike breathed.

"Holy. Crap," she repeated and they let each other go for ogling the mess before them.

"Still tired?" Spike asked and Buffy shook her head. "Adam?" he then wondered and she turned her head to him before she answered:

"It's what he did to the boy."

Ten minutes later they stopped before the stairs leading down to the back door of Xander's basement. Buffy seemed to grow hesitant and Spike turned to her with a questioning gaze.

"Want me to leave?" he asked.

Her eyes grew. The surprise he caused her was evident on her face in the pale light of the moon and he clenched his jaws together. Stupid, stupid move.

"I mean - I bloody well won't!" he added and she blinked, raising her eyebrows slightly and he sighed. "Too late for that save?" he wondered and she suddenly smiled.

"Just a bit," she then nodded and he returned the smile before they both grew rather uncomfortable and made the show of something so unlike them vanish. "Spike, why do you...?" she began and then the door opened below and Xander poked his head out.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the vampire and then he moved his arm, throwing what he had in his hand in a surprisingly well aimed bow to hit the fiend right in the forehead.

"Ao, bloody HELL!" Spike exclaimed, putting a hand up by the spot and rubbing it as he turned two furious eyes on the mortal. "Are you bleeding mental?!"

"No, I was TRYING to hit your heart. Gosh darn it, I missed," Xander replied sarcastically.

Buffy struggled to keep the laughter back, but she couldn't restrain the smile and she tried to hide it from the bleached blonde in front of her the best she could as she turned to face Xander.

"WHAT are you doing?" she asked and he smirked at the look on her face.

"Hey - I thought he was trying to molest you or something," he answered and she giggled, clearing her throat before she descended the stairs to him.

Turning around she met the still annoyed eyes of Spike and she tried on a calming smile. It seemed to do the trick since he shook his head and then drew a very irritated huff of air, though he seemed to soften up slightly and WHAT exactly did this mean? "Soften up"?! And why was it that she had just done that? She had actually presumed to be able to... No. No, she hadn't. She had merely looked at him and he had looked back and now they were marching into that basement to have a low down with Xander and Willow and...that was it.

Good. Fine. Perfect.

Spike blinked as she swirled around and practically ran in through the open door. Then he frowned. What had that smile just now been all about? It had said: please, forget it, don't mind him... Sure, it had been small, yet very distinct. Telling him to cool down... And he HAD?! He had. Oh, this was really very bad. This was as bad as it could possibly get. He was transforming into some sort of a wanker. A loser. Someone whom she... What? Whom she what?

"What the bugger did you throw at me?" he asked, interrupting his own thoughts and looking down at Xander who had the smirk grow back on.

"A can of tuna," he replied and Spike raised his eyebrows.

"Hurt like hell," he muttered, starting the descent as well.

"Your mask of pain sorta ratted on you," Xander remarked and Spike gave him a look.

"What were you doing with a bloody can of tuna?" the latter then asked and Xander shrugged.

"Making sandwiches. Willow likes 'em, for some reason," he then answered, following the vampire through the doorway and closing the door behind them.

"Well, were you done making them?" Spike now inquired meaningfully and Xander looked at him, then he connected the dots and opened the door again.

Spike proceeded further into the room.

"I've never seen anything like it," Buffy mumbled, pacing slowly on the floor as Willow listened seated on the couch to the vampire's right.

"And it had to be Adam who killed it?" Willow wondered, Buffy nodding. "But why?" the former asked and Buffy stopped.

"He's studying biology," she replied. "Human... demon... whatever he can get his hands on and tear apart."

"He wants to know what makes things work," Willow murmured and Buffy nodded again.

Xander re-entered the basement with the finishing touch to his snack in hand, coming to a halt as he noticed the theme of nowhere-near-happy decorating the air.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" he asked and Willow gave him a reassuring smile before she looked to Buffy for the explanation.

The Slayer gave it, making Xander stare at her and then move his arm, dropping the can of tuna into the trash bin; clearly feeling the need for food evaporating.

"When this turns into being beaten around a room by the Hulk of Frankenstein, could we please just not indulge?" he asked and Buffy's face grew determined.

"It's not coming to that," she assured. "The Initiative created this thing, and now they can't stop it. But we will," she added, turning her eyes into Spike's and he tilted his head slightly to one side before he granted her a small nod.

"What's first?" Willow wondered and Buffy sat down on the edge of the armchair by which she had been standing before replying:

"Hopefully Spike 'll be able to help locate Adam... Or Adam might locate him... But anyhow, Spike's agreed to... Well, to..." she trailed off, turning her head to once more look at the vamp.

"Act as a spy?" he tried and she furrowed her brow slightly, then she nodded.

"Yeah," she concurred.

"Is there a role in it for me?" a voice asked and Buffy turned around at the sound of it, her face having a warm smile spread across it as she rested her eyes in Riley's.

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

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

Twenty-Five: A Lost Cause

By Annie

2003-04-29

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

Day Seventeen.

7.35 p.m.

Riley returned the smile, though it was rather trying - as if to see if it would still fit as it was directed onto her. It did, however, and Buffy felt relief over the fact that perhaps he had had time to really think things over for the past few days twirl around and around with a nausea she couldn't detect the true origin of.

What did it really matter?

Spike felt a cold hand grab his heart and squeeze every last dribble of goodwill toward the rival before him out of it carelessly. But there was another feeling there as well; and it was sorrow.

She would never look at him that way. She would never be able to fully relax into the possibility of a "them", would she? To her he was nothing but a monster gone toothless...

The realization of this was like hot wax on a fingertip. He wanted to wince, but held it back; observing the hesitant, yet very real, play between the two mortals showing something "he would never have".

The jealousy was set loose in the way scratching a match against sandpaper can start a building fire and soon it was an inferno inside of him, licking his bones and too blinded by its own strength to be able to care about what it set aflame as it went. In this case it made his patience turn into flying ashes and he looked at Buffy with the anger smothering the whispers of what he felt for her. What she was able to make him feel...

He only saw her how he wanted to see her in that moment - as the using, self-righteous bitch that he knew she was. Why would she want his help? She didn't, she was just showing how very much aware she was of the power she had over him. No more of it. He would have no sodding more of this!

He turned sharply and walked up to the door. Yanking it open he stepped through it and took the stairs quickly.

"Leaving already?" her voice asked as he had gotten a few more steps on his way and he froze with a sigh. "Without so much as a good-bye?" she added and the hint of wryness made him raise his eyebrows as he turned partially to her. "Oh, sorry," she said, growing serious, though he could see the mocking in her expression. "I forgot for a second that you're the anti- socialize... person - so the being polite thing is overrated with you then, huh?"

"What do you want now?" he muttered. "Can't a bloke storm out without the whole point of it being bloody taken away?" he added and she gave him a look.

"Well, we're not done," she stated and he returned her look before he replied:

"Oh, yeah. We're as bleeding done as you get."

She squinted, quizzical.

"What's with you all of a sudden?" she asked and he rolled his eyes at her.

"I'm evil. Mood changes are sodding inevitable," he grumbled. "Now, good- bye," he added with a small bow of his upper body before he turned from her again.

"Spike..."

"All right, would 'good night' get me on my way?" he wondered, turning back and approaching her. "Or are you expecting me to finish that kiss we started?" he added and her eyes grew slightly as he stopped before her.

"No," she then replied, growing slightly flustered as she took a step back.

He observed her for a few seconds, then huffed and shook his head.

"Go back inside," he murmured. "Go back where you belong, Slayer. With Red and TunaBoy and Captain bloody Cardboard."

She stared at him.

"Are you jealous?!" she breathed and his eyes were in hers, growing harder than she had seen them for...well, a while, actually.

"Are you expecting a sodding answer?" he spat, turning from her again, but as he began to walk she followed.

Her heart was beating hard in her chest as she watched his back, his neck... What was moving in that head of his? What was this? He behaved as though he...

"Are you blind, deaf AND dumb?!" he exclaimed and she almost smirked as she remembered when she had used that sentence on him.

He must really want her off his back. His eyes were positively flaming as he once more swirled around to face her and she could see how tightly he was biting his jaws together. If he hadn't had that chip in his head he had surely killed her on the spot. What sort of man was that to get involved with? Really? He was lethal, a killer, had he been human he would've been classed as a sociopath and thrown into a dark hole somewhere! And where exactly had these thoughts come from? And... she wouldn't even spin further on them.

"Are you expecting an answer," she merely shot as a response to his rhetorical question and he glared at her.

"What the hell else is there to discuss down there?" he asked, going back to her original statement and waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the basement, making her cock an eyebrow. "That involves ME!" he added and she smiled a small smile.

"Are you jealous?" she repeated her previous question and she could have sworn his face would have turned rose red with fury if it had been able to.

He looked at her, the anger keeping its fume on for a few more precious seconds and then it began to slowly retract.

"Jealousy is a sign of weakness," he finally replied; keeping the defeat out of his voice as the growing love seeped back into his heart with full force and, as always, all he wanted to do was be able to touch her. Determined not to let it show he continued: "I don't bloody well believe in it and I'd never be caught dead with it inside of me," he added and she shook her head at that. When she didn't speak he stayed quiet for a few moments as well and then he said: "What would I be jealous of, exactly? I've already told you I'm not bloody interested in you for reasons... not dealing with the... Are you seriously ASKING me if I...? Bloody hell," he muttered, looking away from her.

She had no idea what she should think; only what she had seen right before he left so abruptly. The way he had looked at Riley... But he did make a very good point - WHY the hell would he feel anything at all when it came to her? Well, he couldn't, right? He couldn't feel anything.

"I hate the sodding wanker," he suddenly stated and she looked up and into his eyes. "But it has nothing to do with you," he added and she ignored the slightly sinking feeling in her chest. "He put this thing in my head..."

"I'm pretty sure HE didn't," she cut in and Spike gave her an encouraging look to shut up.

"I hate all of the buggers," he grumbled. "Nothing personal," he then shrugged. "I'd hate anyone who bloody tried to..."

He trailed off, looking into the depths of those two green orbs of hers and being practically able to sense the invisible threads irreversibly tying him to her.

"Hold you back?" she asked silently and he swallowed, then shook the feeling of longing off as he nodded.

The seconds were dragged out as they silently observed each other, both trying to estimate this situation; appraising the other almost desperately. They were both sharing a confusion that none of them wanted to acknowledge. For Spike it stemmed from the fact of this young woman being able to make him so completely desert everything that was him in search of...? Well, there lie the confusion. For Buffy it was a cosmic storm of emotions and contradictions within her, refusing to have her read them or pair them up with one another, as well as something in her subconscious blinking "warning" every time she actually tried to do so.

"I should..." she mumbled with a small nod back to the stairs.

"Right," he agreed. "You should."

"You don't wanna...?" she began and he suddenly smiled a weak smile.

"No," he then assured. "I don't."

"It'll just be a lotta lame discussion-slash-brainstorming-slash-nervous outbursts from Xander-slash-Slayertalk... You wouldn't like it anyway," she said and his smile widened just a little before he nodded his consent to that.

"If Adam contacts me you'll be the second person to know," he then stated and she tilted her head to one side questioningly.

"Who'll be the first?" she asked and the smile turned into a smirk before he answered:

"Me."

Finally he got the smile back, which he had been searching for, out of her and then she looked away from him, clearing her throat.

"Fine," she then nodded. "I'll... see you then?" she added, beating down the underlying tone of hopefulness in her voice and he didn't seem to pick up on it as he gave a nod as well.

As he turned she watched him walk away, not able to ignore the fact of how much she had wanted him to stay.

***

7.46 p.m.

The brunette slowly opened her eyes, blinking as disorientation slipped out of her brain and her thoughts began to come out of the dreamstate. She furrowed her brow slightly at the bleeping from the machine keeping track of her heart... and then the expression deepened as she had a trying look around the room.

Flashes of the nightmares she had been having came back to her and she sat up in the hospital bed.

A few minutes later she had left the bed and the building behind. The need for revenge was great within her chest as she made her way toward a goal which would confirm what she had just been told.

That the only father she had ever known was killed, murdered, slaughtered by the hand of someone who's fate seemed linked with her own.

As her eyes rested on the remains of the Sunnydale High she felt that need clench into a fist and she bit her jaws together hard.

I'm coming for you, she thought. No matter where you are... And I'm gonna rip you apart.

***

9.34 p.m.

"Buffy?"

She stopped, her hand on the knob of her dorm room as she turned her head and looked at Riley, coming toward her down the hall. He stopped before her, seemingly uncertain. They hadn't said much to each other since she returned to the basement after her venture after Spike. He hadn't asked anything and she hadn't spoken more of it.

"I'm just gonna freshen up a bit and then I'm headed over to Giles'..." she said and he nodded.

"Yeah... I was just wondering if you had a few minutes to spare," he replied and she swallowed.

"Okay," she then agreed, stepping in through the door and having him follow her.

She walked up to her closet and opened it up; wanting to have something to occupy herself with, rather than to actually shop for another set of clothes, she began to rummage through it. He was quiet for a short while and then he said:

"I needed to see you."

She swallowed, then nodded a little, folding up a sweater and placing it back on its shelf.

"I had to..." he started, trailing off. "I'm not sure why I went to Xander's like that... I just wanted to see how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Buffy, please... stop that," he added and she drew a small breath; putting the new sweater, which she had grabbed, back and steadying herself before she turned to him.

"I'm not sure what to say," she murmured.

He watched her for a few seconds and then he shrugged a little.

"You're not mad anymore?" she wondered and he blinked.

"I never really was," he replied. "I was shocked... Hurt. But not really angry with you. It was a mistake, no thought or emotion behind it, right? I mean, I didn't think there was anything to be angry about... Until..." once again he trailed off and she bit her jaws together as her nerves tangled themselves up within her. "So hostile Seventeen is one of the good guys now?" he asked and she wanted to close her eyes, shut him out and push the question away.

That wasn't possible, needless to say. She had to have this conversation with him sooner or later and so she put on an as innocent expression as she could before she gave a small shrug.

"I don't think 'hostile Seventeen' even knows what the concept of 'good' is," she answered and Riley frowned, which made her regret her words. "I meant that sarcastically," she tried to smooth it over, but it didn't stick.

"He's a vampire," Riley stated and she blinked, then nodded. "Of course there's no 'concept of good' in his drawer of... concepts," he added and now she furrowed her brow.

"Maybe he's not the type to play by the rules..." she began, and then she bit her tongue - she had almost gone into a defense speech - for SPIKE!

Okay, this is really spinning way out of hand. What the hell's wrong with me?! she asked herself, taking her gaze out of Riley's and trying to collect herself.

"And what?" Riley demanded, obviously not about to let the subject die.

"Nothing," she tried, but his expression showed how little he was going for that approach and so she added: "I'm just saying... I've spent some time with him and he's... Well, he's gonna help us fight Adam!" she finished and Riley stared at her.

"You TRUST him?!" he exclaimed and her eyes grew round before she shook her head.

"No!" she assured. "No, there's no trust whatsoever..."

"Then WHAT are you doing with him, Buffy? I don't understand it! Why would you let him into your circle, to learn all of your secrets when it comes to how you act as the Slayer or with your friends; why would you let him close if you don't even trust him? For all I know he's wanted you dead ever since he first set foot in this town! What are you thinking?" he asked and once more she shook her head.

"No, you don't understand what it's like. See, we both know that we can't..."

"Can't what?!" he interrupted, the upset he was under was very obvious and she couldn't find the right way to soothe it. "How can you be near him, Buffy? How can you care about something like him? He's not even alive."

Riley's voice was growing heavy with disgust and Buffy swallowed hard. She had always found it difficult to be judged and this was no exception...

"I don't CARE about him! It's not like that! I'm not 'letting him close'," she finally blurted out. "He's there, he's helping. Taking down Adam is all that matters!"

"Yeah?" Riley asked and she nodded, meeting his gaze relentlessly to show him that she meant it. "Then why did you go after him when he left?" he asked and she clenched her hands into tight fists as she tried to find an answer. "See," he was the one to break the quiet. "I just hope you know what you're doing," he added.

She looked at him, not quite believing that it was happening, but knowing that it was.

What she and the man before her had had - was over. They were over.

She couldn't heal the damage which had been caused and now the wound was too wide to close up.

"Do you wanna be with him?" he now asked and she blinked again, coming out of her thoughts as she stared into his eyes.

"Riley..." she mumbled.

"I can't even look at you," he shook his head, turning it away and walking up to the still open door. "If you need me..." he then added, stopping in the doorway, but not meeting her gaze. "We're in the same battle, so if you need me - call on me," he finished.

"I will," she replied and he disappeared out through the doorway.

The thing is: I don't know what I want, she thought as she slowly sat down on her bed. Because Spike... I can't be with Spike. I can't... I can't fall for Spike! He's a lost cause. He'll never feel love again. How could I possibly...? No, I just... couldn't.

***

Day Eighteen.

9.16 p.m.

He had figured getting out and about might help him focus his energy on the fact that all the meals-on-heels were not for his tasting pleasure, instead of having his energy in a tight lump in his chest as he kept imagining what soldier boy was allowed to do to her in that very moment.

Kissing her, touching her, being close, being within...

He took another mouthful of beer and looked out on the crowd. The music was as always pumping and the Bronze was packed floor to ceiling with young bodies. Young blood. For some reason he wasn't hungry. He wasn't even there. He was just...nowhere. With her. The way he would always be and he HAD to get himself the sod away from thoughts of her and into thoughts of beheadings and flesh and gruesome, awesome crimes done to the minds of the innocent.

Yeah, 'cause that's what it's all about. The kill.

Though there was no more slaying of the innocent for him, was there?

Had he just put that word - so obviously linked to her - into the middle of that sentence on purpose or had it just been a natural choice?

"Bollocks," he muttered, shaking his head at himself and pushing away from the wall against which he had been leaning.

Sauntering toward the dance floor somebody bumped into his shoulder and he took a small step back to regain his balance, turning his head to whoever it was and as the blonde locks settled he stared at her. Furrowing his brow in slight wonderment as to her appearance he then tilted his head slightly to one side before sighing.

Great. Perfect. Wonderful.

Just his sodding luck that she'd be there, of all places! Shouldn't she be out trailing the Most Grizzling with Captain Cardboard? And what was up with the make-up? Seemed she'd decided to take a well-deserved breather. Well, of course she couldn't have picked a quiet evening in bed with a bloody book, now could she?

"Oh," he muttered. "You."

"And...you," she replied.

"What? Are you keeping tabs on me? I know the 'no trust' deal was sodding clear right from the start, but this...? You gonna give me a hard time now?" he inquired and her eyes widened slightly.

"Well," she began, squirming slightly and he frowned again. "Do I...usually...give you a hard time?" she then asked back and he gave her a look.

"Very funny," he replied and she raised her eyebrows. "Well, you don't have to worry about me 'drinking'," he added with a nod toward the dance floor and all the necks bouncing with their connected bodies there. "Unless you're here to protect innocent beers," he added as he wiggled the bottle in his hand meaningfully; lowering it he turned from her and walked up to stand beneath the stairs leading to the upper space of the club.

He really wanted her to leave him alone.

And he really wanted her not to.

No sign of the boyfriend so far... He had to wonder what that meant.

"You're a vampire," she stated just as he turned back to her and he gave her a look at the sheer no-necessity-at-all in her uttering those words.

She took a pose against the thick, consisting-of-metal post to her right; letting her right hand slide up it before she leaned against it by means of the lower part of her arm, putting her left hand on her left hip, observing him with the sort of interest you would a thing through the glass of a shop- window - one that you wanted, but wasn't quite sure you could afford.

The expression was new to him, though two could play this game and so he replied:

"WAS... And as soon as I get this chip outta my head I'll be a vampire again. But until then I'm just as helpless as a kitten up a tree, so why don't you just sod off?"

Her eyebrows rose again.

"'Kay," she then agreed, turning around and getting ready to leave.

Oh, she was one flaky bird; that was for bloody sure. Did she expect she could just walk away like this? Hah!

"Oh, fine!" he exclaimed, it having the desired effect of making her stop. "Throw it in my face," he continued and she turned back to him. "'Spike's not a threat anymore - I'll turn my back. He can't hurt me'. Or should I make that 'won't'? Is that what you think? That I won't hurt you...?"

She merely eyed him for a second, her face growing thoughtful as she repeated his name.

"Spike," she mumbled and once more he found himself staring at her rather questioningly. "Spike," she said again and then her face slowly lit up as she took the few steps parting them to stand before him, adding: "William the Bloody with a chip in his head. I kinda love this town."

He narrowed his eyes, glaring at her now.

"You know why I really hate you, Summers?" he asked and she tilted her head to one side before she replied matter-of-factly:

"'Cause I'm a stuck-up, tight-ass with no sense of fun?"

Actually... he thought, but restrained the smirk as he looked down at her, answering:

"Well, yeah... That covers..." suddenly realizing what she had just labeled herself as he slowly added: "a lot of it."

"'Cause I could do anything I want and instead I choose to pout and whine and feel the burden of Slayerness?" she continued and now he did stare at her. "I mean, I could be rich. I could be famous. I could have anything..." She paused slightly and the look in her eyes made his whole body suffer shivers in several multitudes as she added: "Anyone."

He swallowed, really not sure what she was playing at here.

"Even you, Spike," she added, taking a step closer and moving her arms up to place her hands on his chest, letting them glide down to his stomach as she pushed him back against the post behind him.

She slid up against him and he couldn't take his eyes off her face as she said, voice lowered and manner so seductive he was glad he didn't need to breathe:

"I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even DREAMED of - I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne and you begged me to hurt you just a little bit more..."

Now he did smirk.

"Well...yeah," he murmured, his hands gliding over her waist and to the small of her back to press her closer. "Been there...done that," he added before he lowered his mouth to hers.

At first she was reluctant. She even seemed surprised. And then she began to return the kiss, deepening it forcefully. It was at that point he pulled away from her. Finding her gaze with his own, seeing the lingering eagerness in them and the questions... He shook his head before he slowly murmured:

"You're not Buffy... so who the hell are you?"

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

Twenty-Six: Make With The Why

By Annie

2003-05-01

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Day Eighteen.

9.34 p.m.

Her eyes darkened rapidly post his question and as she wanted to take a step back he grabbed her upper arms and held her where she was.

"Where is she?" he hissed and a cold smile took its place on her lips as she shook her head slightly at him.

"You're trippin'," she muttered. "I'm outta here," she added, tearing loose and turning from him.

"Faith," he said and she turned back to him, eyebrows rising and then her smile widened.

"No," she then replied. "I knew a girl who went by that name once, and it wasn't that long ago either... But she's gone now. She's been... handled. Slayerstyle."

He stared at her, at this stranger before him.

"Don't worry, sweet-cakes," she now smirked. "She won't ever bother me again. Or any of my friends..."

He furrowed his brow, but she merely turned from him and made her way up to the bar.

He knew what he had to do, and no matter how much it really distasted him to do it he had no other choice. Leaving the Bronze he headed for the apartment of someone he wasn't at all sure would even listen to what he suspected, but if the man in question refused - then Buffy was lost to them, to HIM, forever.

If the Watcher won't listen, Spike thought, picking up his pace, then somehow I'll MAKE him.

***

Day Nineteen.

8.55 a.m.

"We don't know where Buffy is, that's our main problem," Giles stated, making the murmur from the assembled Scoobies - plus two - come to a stop.

Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara were all squeezed together on the couch of Giles' apartment, now their eyes were directed onto him.

"The Council could have taken her halfway to England by now," he added with a sigh. "I can't believe I didn't pick up on it sooner. I thought her actions were rather...un-Buffylike when she stopped by."

"Me too," Xander chimed in, nodding his head. "Definite un-Buffyness going on there. No need to feel like the behind of a donkey, Giles... We all do."

"Well, thank you for that fascinatingly clear analogy and please, don't ever use it again," the Watcher replied dryly.

"Deal," Xander agreed, sinking back slightly against the cushions behind his back and getting a comforting pat on one arm from his girlfriend.

"We could try a locating spell..." Willow began and that was when the front door was thrown open and the body of Faith came through it. "Buffy!" Willow exclaimed, the four on the couch rising as one and turning to face the door at the same time.

"Okay," Buffy said. "Don't freak... I know this is gonna sound so much out there that you're gonna... Huh?"

"We know you're you and your body's not you," Anya explained helpfully and Buffy furrowed her brow, technically Faith's brow.

"It's a long story," Willow began and as the phone rang she continued: "Tara and I met you... I mean, Faith... at the Bronze last night and Tara... Tara, come here." Tara hesitantly came up to join at Willow's side and Buffy looked at the girl for a moment before directing her gaze into Willow's again, wanting her to finish. "Well," Willow started up again, "Tara is a really powerful witch."

"Not really," Tara mumbled, clearly uncomfortable with that sort of unmasked praise.

"No, really!" Willow stated. "She knew right away that you weren't you. So we connected with the nether realms to find out what happened, and we conjured..." turning around she hurried up to the living room table, grabbed the small, wooden box standing there and then returned to her friend finishing with: "this."

Opening the box she revealed what looked like an oval shaped stone, glowing in neon green. Buffy could feel the power flowing from it and she took a step closer.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's a Katra," Willow replied.

"You should come see this," Xander called from the TV, which Giles had turned on shortly after hanging up the phone. "Why is it that there never are any GOOD news coming from that thing?" the former added.

On the screen a news anchor declared a church in possession of what could only be a band of vampires.

"It's a message," Buffy stated. "And it's just been received."

***

3.45 p.m.

"She's gone..." Buffy said silently, pushing the button on the wireless phone in her hand in order to hang up.

She was seated on her bed in hers and Willow's dorm room and the latter was sitting by her feet.

"You okay?" Willow wondered and Buffy shrugged.

"I'm not sure," she murmured. "I talked with my mom before... Faith spent the night in my old bedroom, but before that they had had a really long walk down Memory Lane with old pictures and everything... Mom said that she had worried 'cause I seemed so sad. I'm just... I mean, who knows what made Faith who she is, you know?"

Willow nodded.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"I might've been somebody entirely different if I hadn't been born into my family," Buffy continued. "She might've been too."

"You feel bad for her?" Willow wondered and Buffy put the phone on the bedside table before she nodded.

"I guess I do," she admitted.

"Changing topics," Willow said, smiling a little and Buffy returned it. "What did you think of Tara?"

"The little I saw of her I thought she seemed real nice," Buffy replied. "She's kinda shy, though, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Willow agreed. "But not once you get to know her. Then she's really open and funny and... well," the Wicca trailed off.

"I'm glad you're making new friends," Buffy said, giving Willow a little shove with one foot. "I felt really bad 'cause I was so busy with Riley," she added and Willow's smile broadened.

"He forgave you, didn't he?" she asked meaningfully and Buffy bit her jaws together.

"Not really," she answered and Willow grew serious as well as questioning. "Hence the 'WAS so busy'..." the former added and Willow put on an empathic expression.

"What happened? I can't believe that he'd hold a grudge; he doesn't seem like that kind of person," she said.

"It depends on the way you trample him," Buffy grumbled, Willow growing quizzical again and the former shook her head dismissively. Deciding that she wasn't ready for this conversation quite yet she then said: "Seems like you and Tara have been doing a lotta magic lately."

"Yeah. And it's so much fun," Willow stated. "I'm learning a lot."

"I was so scared you guys 'd put a tranquilizing dart in my butt or something, when I showed up like that looking like Faith," Buffy said with a smile and Willow grinned. "I'd label your growing talent Good Thing any day of the week from this moment on," the Slayer added and the latter laughed, watching as the former rose to her feet and walked over to the desk standing to the right of the door.

"Well, I can't take all the credit," the redhead then said as she turned in her seat to be able to look at her friend who was stacking up her books for the classes she would have in the morning.

"Oh?" Buffy wondered. "Yeah, right," she then added. "Tara."

"Yes, Tara," Willow agreed. "But actually, and you're not gonna believe this..." she trailed off as Buffy turned to her, wondering expression on her face. "Well, actually Spike told Giles before we did."

Buffy swallowed.

Her heart had just stopped beating in her chest.

"Spike?" she then asked, the muscle beginning to do its job tentatively beneath her bosom. "How could he know?"

"I'm not sure," Willow replied.

"Why wasn't he at the apartment when I got there?" Buffy inquired and Willow gave a shrug.

"He needed his beauty sleep," she answered.

"But..."

Buffy trailed off.

Why had he told Giles? If he hadn't, then that would've meant her off his back for certain and for a very long time to come. WHY had he gone to Giles, of all people?

"I... I have to go," she said, turning the knob of the door and opening it up. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she promised, walking through it and closing it behind her.

The past few days had been confusing enough without having to contemplate exactly where this whole thing with Spike was taking her. Not that it WAS taking her anywhere... Escaping the clutches of the Council... Not being sure if she'd ever be fully herself again... Fretting over how she'd be able to present her state to her friends without them freaking out... Yeah, she had had her hands full.

Now, all the everyday confusion slipped back in place and she was heavily reminded that she still needed to find a way out of it. The thing was that it was so obscure. They were partners, reluctant allies, and she had been absolutely convinced that - if the chance introduced itself to be rid of all of it - he wouldn't hesitate one second to end it in his favor and fulfill an old promise.

Well, of course she wouldn't have been dead per say; but she might as well have been.

And then he goes and does something like this.

Well, isn't that just like him, then? Turning everything upside down and inside out until he can't even tell the original composition of it himself! Damn him and his fickle nature!

She didn't bother to knock, assured in the assumption that he was out cold - literally - anyways. She stepped inside the second door, taking her into the crypt, and turned her head to her right, finding that she had been wrong. He was in front of the TV; a new one, she gathered, since last time she'd been there the set had been broken into bits for some reason. A result of one of his "mood changes", no doubt. And this new one he had probably stolen from some poor old lady who'd happened to leave a window slightly open one night... That's right, feed the annoyance with him.

Spike felt his nerves jolt as her presence filled the room, then he glanced her way and to his overwhelming relief his eyes met the familiar green of hers. Then it had succeeded, and here she was again; ready to splash a dash of her all-time-favorite burn-baby-burn. That's what her eyes told him, anyways. What had persuaded him to even give a damn in the first place?

The billion answers to that simple question crowded his mind and he closed his eyes briefly before turning his head to meet her gaze fully.

"Oh," he muttered. "You're back."

"Was I ever gone?" she wondered, her eyes now meaningful in a way he wasn't sure that he liked and her arms crossing over her chest.

"I haven't seen you in two bloody days, how the bleeding hell should I know?" he grumbled, trying to keep his cool as he got to his feet, turning the TV off as he went.

She raised her eyebrows. So, he was going to do that turn. Fine. She'd tag along on this one.

"Haven't seen me in two days?" she asked and he tilted his head to one side slightly.

Had she always been this beautiful? Had she always had such a glow about her? Standing there her brilliance seemed to light up the room.

Bloody hell! he growled in his head, turning away from her and walking a few steps toward the sarcophagus before stopping.

"I haven't seen YOU, now have I?" he muttered and she found herself smirking.

Then the admittance of those words caught up with her and chased that hint of a smile off her face.

"Why did you tell Giles?" she asked and he clenched his jaws together tightly.

Why couldn't he for once think before acting? Of course this whole stunt was gonna work, and of course she'd be busting down his door to know how the hell he could presume to act as though he cared what happened to her.

"Why shouldn't I have told him?" he retorted, finally turning to partially face her.

"WHY did you tell him?" she demanded, feeling how desperate she was to actually hear his reason; to at least have that straightened out once and for all amongst the turmoil inside of her.

"I don't know what you wanna hear, love," he murmured. "But it ain't gonna fall from these lips so best you just went on your sodding way. Now."

He wanted to have her close. He felt every last fiber reach out to her, draw themselves closer to her. The need was getting to be too much and he was frightened of what he might say or do to quench it. She needed to go before it got to the point of no return and he told her everything - salvation be crumbled up and forgotten.

"I'm not leaving," she stated, tone cold as she unwrapped her arms and took a step forward; his eyes growing unnoticeably as he witnessed the movement. "In fact, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why you keep..."

She trailed off and he narrowed his eyes.

"Saving you?" he wondered. "How I can do that when there's not one single honest or righteous bone in my dead, cold body? How I can bloody honor our agreement, this so-called partnership, when all I really wanna do is find some way of taking you down, isn't that what you were about to ask me?"

"All right, yes! Okay?!" she exclaimed. "Yes, I have to wonder what your motive is 'cause let's face it - you haven't declared yourself in love with the idea of me still standing, have you?!"

His face was cut in stone and his eyes were hard as a doll's, but inside her analogy had him near to tears with laughter. The irony of it all kept hitting him over the head, but when it made itself known with such subtlety it simply punched him right on the jaw.

He suppressed the emotion skillfully and reminded himself that for some reason she was mad at him. She seemed to react that way a lot whenever HE was the one who stepped in "in the knick of time". Gratitude towards him seemed to be a waste of bloody emotion, didn't it?

"I'll stop - if you ask me politely," he stated and she shook her head at him.

Sometimes he made her so furious that she just wanted to scream outloud.

"THAT'S not an answer!" she raised her voice and he cocked an eyebrow.

"'Politely'," he reminded and she stalked up to him.

He kept himself from backing away from her the second before her scent softly wrapped itself around him, her body heat extended itself, her life- force was vibrating against his chest.

"Why can't you just drop the attitude and tell me what I need to know?" she asked, voice lowered but quivering with held back emotion.

"Why is it something you 'need' to know?" he asked back and her eyes grew impatient as she glared up at him.

"You're impossible," she grumbled and his face softened as he smirked.

"Not always," he hinted and she gave him a look which broadened the smirk.

She was silent for a few moments and then she asked, rather hesitantly:

"How did you even know it wasn't me?"

Once more he tilted his head to one side, his eyes observing her for a second before he replied:

"Her kisses were very different from yours."

The cockiness with which he had intended to deliver that line for some reason was left out of it, but it didn't matter as he watched the rather stunned expression taking form on her face and she blinked with obvious surprise.

Everything came to a slow stop as the shock filled her, and then it pulled back rapidly, paving way for a distorted sense of betrayal. There was also something that was much, much worse and had no place within her in connection to him - anger based on pure and simple jealousy.

"Different-GOOD-different?" she couldn't stop herself from practically snapping and then she shook her head a little at herself before turning from him. "Never mind," she added, struggling to keep the growing grouchiness out of her voice.

"Buffy..." he began, really not about to let himself read too much into her posture and expression saying that she had actually just been affected by what he had disclosed.

She swirled back around.

"No, I don't wanna hear it," she interrupted. "Ever since you first came into my life all you've ever done 's been to screw it up, and I'm finished!"

"Buffy," he tried again, but she shook her head.

"I never should've thought that this side-by-side thing could ever work," she stated. "I mean, you won't even tell me why you keep being there when you should be trying to... be somewhere else!" she added and he furrowed his brow before he saw his opportunity to speak and took it.

"I expect you to repay the favors," he said and she seemed to hold back whatever she had been planning to yell at him the next for simply staring at him. "I expect you to be there for ME... if the time comes," he elaborated and she swallowed. "Will you?" he wondered.

She eyed him for another few moments.

"Sometimes I wish I'd never met you," she then murmured. "Some days that's all I wish."

"And the other days?" he asked quietly.

She opened her mouth as if to answer before seemingly changing her mind.

"Didn't mean to take away from the beauty sleep," she said and he arched an eyebrow, quizzical to her obvious self-consciousness as she backed toward the door.

"Why? You think I need it?" he asked, getting himself moving and following in her footsteps, as tryingly as she was taking them.

"No, not at all," she answered, blinking again as her thighs connected with the side to the back of the armchair and she stopped for a second to regroup before moving to walk behind it. "I-I mean..." she mumbled.

Stop, she wanted to ask him. Stop, whatever it is you're doing to me, stop right this instant. I can't be part of it. I refuse!

"What you said before... about this 'side-by-side thing' not working... that you're finished... Did you mean it?" he asked and she swallowed hard as her back connected with the stone wall to the left of the door leading to freedom, to air, to a place not so completely him. "Are we finished here?" he added and she tilted her head back as he stepped forward, leaning into her.

"You were the one who said we were done," she reminded and he smiled slightly.

"Guess we just keep saying things we don't bloody mean... You agree?" he wondered, his voice slow and thick and sweet as syrup and she could feel her mouth watering as their bodies molded together, the fabrics between their skin doing nothing to prevent them both from feeling the other.

"Yes," she practically whispered.

Looking into his eyes she found herself drifting deeper and deeper into a thousand shades of blue, into warmth and something gentle resting at the bottom of those pools.

If I lost you... he thought as he held her gaze. What would I do if I lost you?

Her heart was beating hard against his chest as her hands moved to place themselves on his hips. He moved his face closer, nudging the tip of her nose with his own before closing his eyes. Buffy closed hers as well, the anticipation swimming with her blood, stretching through her veins. Her hands slid to place themselves on his arms, gliding up his biceps. Her breath caressed his lips as his arms moved around her, pressing her closer.

"I can't do this," she said, breaking the spell and having him slowly open his eyes to meet hers. "I can't do this," she repeated as she pushed him away and sidestepped him to put some distance between them.

"You're too bloody much," he grumbled, turning his head to her. "So go," he then added with a nod to the door.

"I just..."

"You think I expect a sodding explanation here, Slayer?" he interrupted harshly, grabbing the door and opening it up. "Adam stops by and I'll be at your doorstep, 'til then let's just stay the hell away from each other. We'll both be better off."

She looked at him for a while which felt like something eager to resemble eternity and then she simply walked passed him and through the door, which he shut tightly behind her.

"Good riddance," he muttered.

Closing his eyes he leaned forward and placed his forehead against the roughness of stone against which she had a minute earlier been leaning.

The spot still carried her scent.

He wanted her to come back.

She didn't.

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