Twenty-Seven: Once It Happens

By Annie

2003-05-02

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

Day Twenty-Five.

1.15 a.m.

She moved to lie on top of him, bending her neck to grace his lips with a kiss. He smiled as he met her gaze when she pulled back a little. His hands slid gently down her back and she closed her eyes.

"I almost thought this would never happen again," she mumbled and his abs tightened underneath the smooth skin of her belly as he snickered.

"You had ME pretty bloody convinced of it too," he replied and she smiled at that, bending forward to give him another kiss.

This time he moved one hand to the nape of her neck, grabbed a fistful of her blonde locks and deepened it. She moaned as she met it and he rolled her onto her back, her legs spreading to fit him in between them and her arms wrapping around his neck.

Then he softly ended the kiss and pulled back to look down at her.

"You know how I feel," he murmured. "Now I wanna know how YOU feel," he added. "What do you feel, Buffy?"

She woke with a start, taking a hard breath of air and sitting straight in her bed. Staring at the facing wall she tried to get her heart to slow down.

Okay, she thought. Okay. Calm down. Calm down?! Calm down?! You just had a dream! Yes. About Spike! Yes, so? So?!

"Enough," she muttered, throwing the covers off and getting out of bed. "I've had dreams about him before."

'I'm in love.'

'So am I'

'You know how I feel. Now I wanna know how YOU feel.'

She closed her eyes, shaking her head to herself before looking up and resting her gaze on something far away, trying to gather up her thoughts she then walked up to her closet. Getting a pair of leather pants out and a light colored sweater to go with the snake-skin pattern on the former she quickly got dressed. Glancing at the still sound asleep Willow she then slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

I don't feel anything, she thought as she made her way across campus grounds and out into the streets. I don't feel anything for that... Okay, Buffy, find an ugly name for him. Ugly! For that ugly, worthless, good-for- nothing, crazed, bleached loser! I don't feel anything at all for him. I feel about him, but that's very different. I hate him. I can't stand him - most of the time... Well, I WISH I couldn't stand him ALL of the time and that counts for something.

"Out for a walk?"

She jumped, her heart in her throat as she swirled toward the sound. Of his voice. And there he was. Intact. Couldn't he at least have had a scar that refused to heal over his right brow and down his cheek? Or black pupils so that his eyes didn't look so...

"Actually, yes," she interrupted her musings, replying to his question.

"Alone?" he wondered and she cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm never alone," she answered, bringing out her stake with a meaningful look and he smirked hesitantly.

"Right," he said.

"You? Out for a walk?" she wondered, tucking the stake back in place, and he gave a small shrug.

"Not much else for me to do, is there?" he retorted and she couldn't help but smile briefly at that.

"Right," she then nodded.

Okay, find some way to get him away from you.

"I'm going that way," she said, pointing with one index finger in the direction she was referring to and he looked at her for a moment.

"So am I," he then stated and she raised her eyebrows.

"Coincidences do happen," she said and he smirked as she began to walk, he followed.

"They are known to, yeah," he then agreed.

A-way-FROM-you! Not a-way-WITH-you!

She switched off the reasoning voice and glanced at him as he proceeded to walk by her side.

"Good job with the 'staying the hell away'," she commended; her voice light, but he thought he could almost hear an underlying tone of a question as to why he had been able to actually do such a very good job on the matter.

"You too," he simply replied and she turned her head to look at him.

He couldn't believe it had been nearly a week. Of course he had seen her, he wasn't sure exactly what had been going on - but some kid named Jonathan seemed to have pulled the stunt of his lifetime on all of Sunnydale. Well, he had seen her then... but it didn't count, they hadn't been themselves. Their actual last meeting, however; now that had been loaded, for several reasons. This seemed to be the complete opposite. He wasn't even sure what to say to her.

"So, no meets-and-greets?" she asked and he shook his head.

"Nope, the Mungroid King seems to stay dormant," he answered and she cocked an eyebrow.

"You and pet names," she muttered and when he merely gave her a questioning look she stopped and faced him as he did the same. "You have cute little names for everyone around you - what is that?"

"Oh, it's a trademark. Sorta like my mouth," he replied and her eyes grew just a little, making him smirk. "The way it needs to be hit and never shuts up...and all that," he reminded and she shook her head, mostly at herself.

"Has it always been that way?" she inquired and he smiled.

"Hell yeah," he assured and she gave him a look. He hesitated. "Actually...no," he then said, making her eyes rest in his as she grew questioning. "Though I'm pretty bloody sure you're not interested in my background. Are you?" he added and she blinked, then turned and began to walk again.

"No," she replied.

He smirked again, followed and came up by her side once more.

"So, out this late on a school night?" he wondered and she glared at him. "Hey, I didn't mean that in a condescending way, Slayer. Just..."

"Saying," she finished the sentence for him. "You always 'just say'."

He smiled, tilting his head slightly to one side as they came to a slow stop and she sighed. She felt like her insides were being twirled around and around with a great big spoon and she couldn't stop their spinning. And HE wasn't helping. Something about him always got to her head and she felt strange and misplaced and still on the most well-known territory of all...

This abyss that he created was dark and strangely alluring as she balanced the edge of fear, need and a thread of the unexplored which was yet to be picked up... If she should let herself fall there was no telling where she might come to find herself. In darkness; in light; abandoned; found; in coldness; in his arms...

"Spike, there's something I need to ask you..." she began, and then the growl of something which sounded rather large made them both spin around. "Oh, goodie," she murmured sarcastically and he flashed her a grin before he ran forward, meeting the punch of the large demon with his hand and then delivering his own.

Buffy cocked an eyebrow, watching him and getting ready to get into the game when another fiend made itself known - though this one was the blood- sucking kind. She got into fighting stance.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Let's take this nice...and with the pointy end first," she added, bringing out her stake as the vampire attacked.

He delivered a hard blow to her left side and the stake was knocked out of her hand. She huffed, then found her ground and kicked her leg up, hitting the vamp on the chin. After a few well-aimed punches she was able to throw it a good five yards away from her and she quickly retrieved her stake.

Straightening her posture she noticed that the demon Spike had taken on was nowhere to be seen and that he was now in the middle of facing off the other vamp instead. She drew her arm back to throw the stake, but the two moved and she lowered it again. If she hit Spike...

That was when he grabbed the demon and held it chest to her so that she could get in a clean sharp-to-heart and she nodded a little before once more drawing her arm back and then throwing the weapon. Just as it was about to connect, however, the other demon - a large, scruffy looking thing with horns in its forehead - came out of nowhere and pushed Spike aside, making the stake miss its target.

Buffy stared at the scene, taken off guard by this sudden turn of events and then she ran up to the regrouping creatures and delivered a kick each - rendering them, for the time being, slightly disoriented. Hurrying up to Spike, who had gotten to his feet, she said:

"Okay, you get fang, I'll get horny."

He nodded, then narrowed his eyes and turned them on her.

"I mean..." she began, but the demons were both approaching and so the chance for a graceful correction was bagged for the time being.

They split up, Spike taking fang and Buffy... well. It didn't take them longer than a minute to finish both off and Buffy brushed the grass off of her as she tried to catch her breath. The adrenaline was still pumping through her and she felt like running three miles or climbing every tree in Sunnydale or... Her eyes landed on Spike and she swallowed.

"Well," she mumbled. "Vampire-demon tag team... Not something you see everyday."

Spike turned to her, then got himself moving to meet her halfway as he shook his head.

"Then again," he said with a meaningful look between the two of them and she smiled a little.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I guess stranger pairings have happened," she then agreed and he returned her smile tentatively. "But... this..." she mumbled, looking up at him and feeling a frightening throb start somewhere deep down as he held her gaze. "Giles'll wanna know," she said and he nodded. "A- about the..."

"Vampire-demon tag team," he filled in as she trailed off and she nodded slowly again.

He wanted her so badly he could practically taste her on the tip of his tongue: the salt of her sweat and the scent of her skin mixed with that irresistibly arousing aroma of craving, of needing, of forsaking all else for that final moment of perfect bliss...

Spike. Get your bloody head on straight! he grumbled.

But staring into her eyes and seeing his own emotions carefully be reflected in them made the task nearly impossible.

Buffy didn't feel her heart beat heavily in her chest, she didn't recognize the thoughts moving through her mind, she didn't care about the flashing sign of warning... she couldn't care anymore. But she was frozen to the spot, drifting in a sea of blue.

Then his hands grabbed her upper arms and before she had a chance to react she had been torn out of her state of hypnosis and thrown into the very real reality of him close. He pulled her flush against him, her head tilting back of its own and then his lips met hers harshly.

She made a small noise of surprise as his tongue dug into her mouth and found hers, immediately engaging in eager play and she wasn't late to follow. Her hands placing themselves on his hips before she moved them up over his stomach and chest, to wrap her arms around his neck and press herself even closer.

Finally, her body sighed. Finally.

And she was relaxing into his caresses as his hands moved over her form, holding her firmly to him as they explored. She was already close to trembling for him, her legs felt like they were made of rubber as the kiss was growing laced with wanting.

She pulled her mouth away to take a breath and he moved his to her throat, making her groan silently as she buried her fingers in his soft locks, his tongue tracing her jugular before his lips planted kisses in the crook of her neck.

God, if this was as close to Heaven that he would get then he sure as hell was going to treasure every last second of it, every last moment with her. It made him feel in a way he hadn't felt for over a century, and it was like she went inside of him, became a part of him - moved within at the same pace as the new gray and in between his old self and who he wished he could be...

"Spike," she gasped, making him pull back to be able to rest his eyes in hers.

She looked at him with a questioning gaze and he wasn't sure what she was asking him. Then it fell away and she moved her head forward, kissing him deeply and he closed his eyes again, meeting the kiss greedily.

This is insane! This is pure insanity! Buffy, what are you doing?

The voice of reason shrunk into an insignificant screech and then it was stomped out completely. Shut down and thrown away like a bad record she didn't want to listen to anymore. She didn't even want to have it on her shelf and oh, dear Lord, how could he feel this good when she knew he was nothing but bad for her? How could practically everything in her say "yes" when it should be screaming "no"?

He made her walk backwards a few paces and she felt the hard stone of a tall headstone connect with her back as he leaned her against it.

She wanted to get the duster off of him. She wanted to rip that T off and instill pleasure in him just as he was her. She wanted him to feel something! He had to feel something. He couldn't do this to her, make her this way, if he didn't know what it was like himself...

His hands moved down and grabbed her beneath her thighs, pulling them up and making her wrap her legs around his waist. Their lips were still locked together, but as his fingers moved under the hem of her sweater, over her stomach and to her hard nipples she once again pulled her mouth away to take a breath. Resting her head back against the matter behind her she fully enjoyed his knowing gentleness as he sent waves of heat through her.

Then she brought her head forward and made him look up at her, his caresses slowing as he met her gaze.

"Not here," she whispered.

He moved his hands to her hips and she removed her legs from around him in order to stand on her own two feet. Then they both moved their arms around the other and their mouths once more joined in relentless battle.

The walk to Spike's crypt didn't feel like a very long one to the two making it - but it was. Spike couldn't keep his hands off her, it was simply impossible; and Buffy tried to be the grown-up, tried to make him stay away long enough for them to at least walk five feet - but one look from him and she found herself failing. Soon enough they were more or less one being as they made their bodies fit together, trying to walk at the same time as they frolicked in very heavy making-out.

Fifty feet from the entrance to the crypt they stumbled and fell to the ground. Buffy was convinced they wouldn't move from the spot and it suited her just fine - she couldn't take this lack of his skin against hers much longer. Spike was the one who got them up again, got them moving. It wasn't the easiest thing he'd ever made himself do, but he knew somewhere in the back of his clouded mind, that she would appreciate it. Sooner or later she would.

As he kicked the front door of the crypt open she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist once more, taking her lips from his for gracing the side of his throat and he forced himself to keep moving though she was making him feel like his legs wouldn't hold him up that much longer. Getting the second door open as well he walked through it with his eyelids heavy with desire and delight. He shut it behind them with the means of one foot.

Her hands were pulling his T up and her fingers began to caress his chest, taking in as much of it as they could. Had his heart been beating it would have been stopping from the effort right about now.

He sunk down in the armchair without any real knowledge of that being where they were. Her legs on either side of him and her hips grinding against his as her hands grabbed the hems of the duster and began to pull it off. He helped with shaky movements as his head was rested back and her tongue was painting patters over the sensitive skin of his throat.

Once the duster was history she went for the T and ripped it over his head, removing the warmth of her mouth for the second it took her to perform the task and then it was back, trailing down the middle of his chest and up again - stopping by his left nipple and slowly teasing it, making him groan.

Buffy felt the wanting for him jolt at the sound of it and she sat up, waiting until he opened his eyes and rested them in hers. His hands were on her waist, his thumbs gently going in small circles and she wanted more from the former... his touches. Moving her arms she took a hold of her sweater and pulled it over her head.

His eyes softened and she furrowed her brow slightly; reaching out a hand, before she knew what she was doing, she traced his lower lip with her index finger. A small smile curled the corners of his mouth and he kissed the tip of her finger, sliding his hands up her sides and over her exposed breasts.

Shivers hurried through her, sending messages to every nerve in her to be on alert and she closed her eyes; her hand falling from his lips and down over his chest as he kept moving his up over her shoulders and down her arms. The caress was slow and deliberate, going back down over her belly, sliding down her thighs and then up again. As his thumbs carefully pressed against the leather and the feel of them teased her clit she gasped, bent forward and caught his mouth with hers. Kissing him deeply she moved her arms around his neck and pressed their chests together.

His hands went to her back, gliding over it.

She suddenly pulled away, getting to her feet and he stared up at her in clear surprise and dislike until a smile split his face at the sight of her hands and their trembling attempts at getting the button of her pants undone. It didn't take him many moments to mimic her and stand as well. After a few more excruciatingly long seconds of fumbling they both got their shoes and the last pieces of clothing off of them, turning to face each other the room filled with silence.

Buffy looked into his eyes and thought she could actually read them for the first time without any suspicion of all that they harbored being there for show... That twitch of longing, that subtle warmth, that stunning craving... She focused her mind on the latter, thinking it was all that mattered since he surely could see it reflect in her own gaze.

He slowly approached her, taking the few steps dividing them and stopping an inch away from her, looking down at her. She carefully tilted her head back as she let her hands move up his arms and down his chest to his waist before she took the tiny step between them and fitted herself against him.

This is getting dangerously close to something else than raw sex, some thought in the back of her head made itself known. Get it over with. Satisfy the need and then get out, don't look back. You don't...

The thought was silenced as his hand softly placed itself on her cheek and she rested her eyes in his. Then he bent down and kissed her almost cautiously. Deepening it he moved his left hand around her and held her to him as his right hand moved from her cheek and to the nape of her neck. The dragged out feel of his tongue as it gently played with hers was driving her out of her mind, sending the waves of heat into a frenzy within her.

He kept the kiss slow as he moved them carefully up to the sarcophagus, his hands grabbing her waist and lifting her to sit on the edge of it. She parted her legs, giving him room to step close again. He did. Making her lie back he followed, placing himself on top of her and the kiss began to grow harder as his hands slid up her arms and locked his fingers with hers.

He moved his hips forward, gliding into her and filling her. Her eyelids opened and she threw her head back, drawing a sharp breath as he began to move inside of her. They were both moaning, locked together in pleasure for the climb toward release.

The world stood still except for them. Time obeyed them and came to a stop. No sounds except for that of their bodies, of her blood rushing.

It had been building ever since the day they were rescued from the basement, from the spell. This had been there, underneath everything they had said and done together... Buffy knew it had. She had so needed to push him away, but in actuality she had done so much to keep him close. To secure the arrival of this moment, where they were one and all that mattered was how it made them feel.

How does it make me feel? How does it make me feel?

The question was stubborn, yet tentative.

She knew, sooner or later, she would have to answer it. But not now. Not now. Right now she needed to listen to the language of his body, and what it was saying to hers. Soft promises, sweet dreams of times to come - just like this one. She was so wrapped up in him it scared her, because it made her let him be wrapped up in her.

Her breathing was trembling and done with effort, her heart racing in her chest and her body feeling nothing but the billion sensations he instilled into every single part of it. She had closed her eyes and now she opened them again, him opening his as well and they looked at each other as they both began to grow close.

Their hands were clasped together so tight their knuckles were practically white and her body was glistening with sweat. As the explosion hit them both their eyes grew slightly wider and then they moved their heads forward, their lips crashing together and their hands unfolding for their arms to wrap around the other.

Their rocking slowed, Spike ending the kiss and moving his mouth to rest it at the side of her throat. Feeling her heart beat, listening to how hard it was working and then moving his head to place a careful kiss at the spot of it.

Buffy blinked at the feel of it, the aftermath of the high she had reached was still evident in every cell of her and she enjoyed it in quiet fascination... There was nothing she could compare to this, to him deep inside of her. Nothing would ever come close. As his lips connected with her skin she moved her head and looked down at the top of his scalp, the locks now curly and actually quite cu-...

Don't you DARE think that about him, she warned herself and she suppressed a sudden need to smile as he turned his face to hers and met her gaze.

He pulled himself up, shaking his head a little and she nodded her agreement.

This was not-thinking-of-the-consequences, not-caring-if-there-were-any, we- might-just-as-well-be- fighting-to-the-death-cause-this-is-just-as-hopeless - with a cherry on top.

But when you kiss me like that... she thought to herself, holding his gaze and he smiled as though he had just heard what she had been thinking before he moved his head forward - and kissed her.

Just like that.

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

Twenty-Eight: Encore!

By Annie

2003-05-07

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

Day Twenty-Six.

9.44 a.m.

When the crypt had begun to fill with restrained light the Slayer and the Vamp had both been fast asleep.

Now Buffy woke with effort - since she had only slept five hours and her eyelids weren't exactly working with her. Her cheek rested comfortably against his shoulder, her left hand was on his chest and his arm was around her, holding her to him.

She moved her head to gaze lazily up at him, then she smiled a small smile before she pulled herself up and nestled her face against the side of his throat.

Sleep, however, proved just as fickle as his character as it eluded her with the speed of the light stroking the walls of the room from outside; longing to claim another easy target, knowing it would not.

Her eyes shot open and she got herself into a seated position faster than you can say I-love-American-Pie. Swinging her legs over the side of the sarcophagus - thinking how strange it was that she wasn't completely broken from head to toe, given the sleeping arrangements. Sitting up the next second had her groaning with pain from the ache as it made itself known throughout her limbs, and she shook her head at herself as she slid off the sheet covered stone and stood on both feet.

What are you doing here? she muttered to herself in her mind.

Spike drew a deep breath behind her, easing his eyes open as she glanced over at him before walking up to the foot of the artifact on which he was still lying. He met her gaze close to dreamily as a much too contented smile spread over his lips.

"Hey, baby," he greeted, voice close to a purr and she huffed, reaching down and grabbing a second sheet, which lie tangled at her feet.

Wrapping it around her she grumbled:

"I can't BELIEVE I fell asleep. God, what time is it? Oh, damn it."

Stumbling up to the armchair she reached down and grabbed her sweater off the floor, straightening her back his arms glided around her and the feel of them made her close her eyes. Biting her lower lip she furrowed her brow and then squirmed, as though she actually wanted release from him - which she didn't.

"Where you going?" he mumbled, burying his nose in her locks and against the back of her head.

She shivered as his hands slid over her stomach, the sheet not protection enough from how badly she already wanted to turn around and...

Oh, no. No, no. Nonono. No. You've spent one minute in his... very close vicinity and you're already sweating? Come on!

She cleared her throat, opening her eyes and stepping away from him. Though it didn't make him remove his hold, he merely followed and then pulled her close again. His mouth finding a spot to the left of her neck it just had to kiss and she bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood as her knees began to grow weak.

"Where'd you think you're going?" he semi-repeated his previous question, murmuring.

"Out... Home... To school," she sighed, tilting her head back as his lips kept exploring already familiar enough skinscape. "Spike," she then protested, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder.

She really shouldn't have. His lips abandoned their journey and met hers right before he deepened the kiss. She kissed him back with the fever beginning to burn a hole through her thoughts, turning around to link her arms around his neck, pressing herself to him. Their tongues danced languorously and the sheet graced the floor as Spike tugged it down.

"I have to..." she tried; mouth still to his and he nodded.

"I know," he assured, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her as he carried her to the armchair.

"I can't..." she once more attempted an objection, but he merely sat down on the piece of furniture, making her straddle him and as he entered her they both drew a sharp breath.

"I know," he moaned, deepening the kiss again and she began to move her hips, riding him slowly.

His hands moved up her back and she pulled her mouth from his as her pace grew slightly harder, his lips connecting with the skin below the base of her throat and her breathing was growing heavier. Running her hands through his hair she leaned her head back as he captured one of her nipples with his mouth.

She was already close, and when she turned her head to look down at him as he looked up at her the dazed expression in his eyes showed her that he was too. Keeping eye contact the buildup began, increasing as they practically stared at each other and then his hands clasped her waist and her fingers grabbed fists of his hair, their eyes growing being the only testament to the coursing pleasure running through them.

She had been holding her breath without realizing it. Now she released it, exhaling silently as her gaze still rested in his. A smirk grew onto his lips and she felt a twitch of anxiety at the sight of it; an anxiety she couldn't place the reason for. With it came a swirl of well-known annoyance and she patted it welcomingly on the head as she gave him an impatient scowl and pulled away from him. He made a face as he glided out of her and then he sighed, leaning back as he put his hands behind his head and watched her pull on her panties.

"I think you bloody well could," he remarked, receiving a glare from her which had him raise one eyebrow questioningly.

"Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Don't even TRY to manipulate me," she replied, pulling her pants on and zipping them up before buttoning them, looking for the place where she had dropped her sweater.

"Manipulate you?!" he wondered innocently as he rose to his feet. "I'm bloody offended here, Slayer," he then stated, grabbing her wrist as she wanted to walk up to the sweater lying a few feet away on the floor and making her face him as he added: "No, really... That hurts."

She ground her teeth, not willing to meet his gaze again, but even more unwilling to show such a clear sign of weakness. And so she did look up and her heart began to beat harder in her chest. What was it? What did he have that enabled him to do this to her?

"I don't CARE," she huffed, wringing her wrist free and walking away from him.

Picking up her sweater she pulled it on and looked around to make sure that she hadn't forgotten anything. Coming to the conclusion that she hadn't she swirled around and took a step toward the door when he said:

"Don't go."

Her heart jumped. She swallowed; then faced him slowly. He was three feet away and glorious in appearance. But she couldn't listen to him. Her mind disregarded that and she found herself asking:

"Why?"

He smiled a little.

"The eternal question," he said.

"Ever wonder why it's the lasting kind?" she retorted meaningfully and the smile grew into a smirk before he replied:

"'Cause it's IN every sodding question, perhaps?"

At that she couldn't help but smirk as well, then she grabbed a hold on herself and shook her head.

"I can't stay," she said and he cocked an eyebrow.

"Why?" he asked, emphasis on the word and she smiled again.

Killing it off she decided to really stop encouraging him and just get herself the hell out of there. What was he doing, acting all... the way he was acting?! Making her all... relaxed. She didn't want to be relaxed. She wanted to be on the edge around him. Expecting him to... do stuff. Bad stuff. Not baaad stuff as in being a much too great kisser or having some sort of magic in his touch that made her so badly need to be near him. No, the evil kind of bad. The dark, scheming, untrustworthy kind of bad that she had always associated with him.

WOULD always. No past tenses, none at all.

What's WRONG with me?! she asked herself, granting him another glare.

He tilted his head to one side as he eyed her closely. She clenched her jaws together.

"I can't stay 'cause... I can't," she answered him, taking another step forward and this time he did as well, making her stop and turn back to him.

"Not good enough," he said and she gave him a look before taking the last few steps to the door and once again he slipped his arms around her from behind.

"You think this'll work twice?" she asked, hating the close to teasing undertone in her voice, despising how she was already failing in staying strong. "Spike..." she mumbled. "Let me go."

He bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from saying anything that could possibly lead her to believe that there was more to all of this than he would ever admit. But he was beaten down by the probability of her leaving unless he could produce a good enough reason for her to stay...

As if that would ever happen.

All right then. A good enough WAY of MAKING her stay.

"And then what?" he asked quietly, fighting back the very real longing behind every word he then continued: "Will you come back?"

"Why? You want me to?" she asked and he smiled.

"Now, don't get any bloody ideas in that pretty little head of yours," he replied, letting her go for putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her around, making her look into his eyes.

She raised her eyebrows.

"Whatever would those ideas be?" she wondered and his smile widened.

"I don't WANT you around, I just HAVE to have you around," he answered and she smiled tentatively as well.

"Funny," she then said sarcastically.

"Thought you'd deliver a 'why'," he pointed out and her smile turned into a smirk.

"Fine. Why?"

He stepped closer, leaned forward and kissed her. As he pulled away she opened her eyes and shook her head. He gave her a questioning look.

"Not good enough," she stated and he moved his arms around her, pressing her to him as he joined their lips again; deepening the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss passionately.

Damn it, Buffy!

Moving her head back she shook it.

"I have to..." she mumbled again and this time he finished the sentence for her with:

"Stay. You have to stay. All day. With me."

She shook her head again, opening her eyes and resting them in his as she said:

"You know I can't."

"YOU know you won't," he muttered.

"So stop trying to make me," she murmured, pushing herself out of his arms and taking a step back.

"'Trying to make you' would be chaining you to the wall," he replied, licking his lips as his gaze drifted down her clothed form before he added: "I'm all for bondage, love... but right now I just wanna get to know you better."

Her eyebrows rose high at that, her eyes in his as he stepped up to her again.

"What's that supposed to m-..." she began, and then his left hand moved her hair away from her shoulder and he leaned forward, trailing the soft skin of it with his mouth for the second time that morning, and for the second time her knees were betraying her.

His hands were gliding behind her back and up her spine, her own - in an involuntary reflex - placing themselves softly on his upper arms.

"But... you already know me too well," she murmured and his movements stopped.

"Is that right?" he asked quietly and she swallowed hard, her heart beating heavily.

"Yes," she then whispered.

"And is that the real reason for your hasty exit?" he asked, voice still lowered as he pulled himself up to face her, still having her in his arms.

She stared up at him; her expression so open it took his non-existing breath away, then a veil fell over it as she got herself out of his embrace, saying:

"My time's up."

"Well, then I bloody demand an encore!" he disagreed and she suppressed the smile successfully this time, simply shook her head. "Buffy," he pleaded as she walked up to the door. "Stay with me."

"What's the use?" she asked, glancing back at him. "Really?"

He had no answer, no clever comeback. He could only watch her as she left, his heart sinking at the sight of the empty doorway.

***

12.15 p.m.

How could she have given in?

She was furious with herself, and still she couldn't seem to restrain herself from smiling a small smile whenever she thought of the previous night. She felt so good now; better than she had in such a long time. The tension was relieved and she felt as though she could finally breathe. That, however, was changed every two seconds when she realized who it was that was able to make her feel this way...

Spike.

Why couldn't she just delete him from her mind? Why couldn't she get him off it; out of it? He was this on-going static which just seemed set on disrupting any train of thought she might have. For better or worse it seemed some part of her had decided to make him a permanent resident of her head and it didn't matter how much she shook it to get him out of there.

She finished her lunch and threw the paper from the sandwich away in a nearby trashcan, getting to her feet and grabbing the paper cup still partially filled with lukewarm coffee before she walked out of the café and toward the college.

Glancing at her wristwatch she realized that her next class was three minutes from starting and she picked up her pace.

***

12.38 p.m.

Spike sat back in the armchair, trying to watch "Passions", but finding himself only able to reminisce of what had happened between him and the Slayer. Between Buffy and him... Between him and her. Between them.

The things she did. The things she let him do...

But where had the tenderness erupted from? Last night he hadn't been able to hold it back, to repress the still lingering yearning for her understanding, for her realization that something within him had been irreversibly touched by her and now he was too far gone to ever go back to what he had been...

Useless, he murmured to himself. This is all for bloody nothing, you sodding wanker, she'll never be yours. Take a good, hard look at yourself and be honest - you think that you couldn't kill again if you only got the buggering chip out? Come on, you long for it. You dream about it. That rush of blood pouring over your tongue, the sweetness of it. You crave it.

"No!" he exclaimed, at first not even realizing it had been his own voice which had said the word, and then his eyes grew.

What was he doing now? Denying his nature for that bitch? What the hell was he to her if not an easy lay... She didn't want him. She didn't need him. She'd probably scampered off to spend the bloody afternoon with Captain Cardboard. And what the sod did he care, anyways. It wasn't like his two blue eyes made them literal - he could still see perfectly well that what he was setting himself up for was a serious wake-up call.

And once the clock rang he was going to break free. He knew he would. And then there'd be no stopping him. He would leave Sunnydale with her dead, and...

He shook his head at himself. There was no way. He knew it. There was simply no way that that would ever happen.

He wanted the hope killed off. There was an eternal voice in the back of his head whispering of someday and what if and maybe and if she could only see...

She would never see! She would never want to see.

He closed his eyes and bit back the tears just as the door opened and he rose to his feet in startled surprise as he opened his eyes again and rested them in hers.

She had no clue as to what she thought she was doing, but as she was able to look at him she knew the decision had been the right one.

"Thought you had class," he grumbled and she nodded.

"I did. Couldn't concentrate," she replied and he blinked, unsure of what he should interpret this as.

"So you came here for some one-on-one?" he finally got out, the smirk he had planned only coming out half-heartedly as he was growing nervous in light of what she was really doing there.

She swallowed, her head buzzing with warnings and pushes in a hundred different directions and aspects of the situation with which she didn't want to deal right now. All that mattered was the way he was looking at her right then, right there... She hadn't realized how much she had wanted his eyes upon her ever since she left the crypt that morning - until now.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked and he stared at her as she approached him. "Can you?" she repeated as she stopped before him and he nodded slowly. "Good," she mumbled as she stepped into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her toes; joining their lips and deepening the kiss forcefully.

This is the first step on a road which can only possibly lead to damnation and torment; you do realize that, don't you? the reasoning voice spoke up.

I'll take that road any day of the week, she retorted. If I can walk it with him...

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

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

Twenty-Nine: Let There Be Light

By Annie

2003-05-09

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

Day Twenty-Seven.

7.35 a.m.

Spike let the index finger and middle finger of his right hand trail the small cavity leading from the base of her ribcage to her bellybutton. Circling the latter slowly he directed his gaze on her face. Her eyes were closed. Something he didn't dare see as a smile curled either corner of her luscious mouth and as always he couldn't resist leaning forward, placing a kiss in the corner closest to him - which happened to be the right.

Buffy turned her head to him, parted her lips and kissed him back cautiously, deepening it in a dragged out way that - during the past eighteen hours she had learned - drove him close to insanity. She smiled, still kissing him, as his fingers slipped to grasp her waist, his tongue growing demanding which let her know just how easily she got to him. She relished in this kind of control over him; she never would have thought that she could make him the way she actually kept making him.

Powerless...

Not that she had developed any sort of defense against HIM in turn, not even close. He reeled her in as easy as one glance was, but the way he made her feel - as though she for the first time was fully in her body and experienced it with him - had her unable to feel any regret.

She had come to him because of this, because the bond of passion and pleasure tentatively forming between them was undeniable; and also, she had to admit it, because she had been curious. Where would it lead? How long would it take for it to snap, or disperse? Why was it even able to exist in the first place?

No, she didn't want to feel relaxed around him. She didn't want to look at him and have the need to reach out one hand and slide it over his muscular torso, one of his biceps, or through those bleached curls of his be simply too great to suppress. She didn't want to want him... but the fact remained that she did.

Having him touching her sent the strangest calm through her, and she kept lying to herself that it didn't, but she understood that she wouldn't be able to do so forever. The warmth in his eyes kept reaching out to spread into her, through her; and she couldn't fight the way he made her feel when his touches were as gentle as they had been for the past three hours. He made her feel desired, but most of all he made her feel beautiful.

He kept looking at her in something close to awe, and she couldn't tell the origin of it. His gaze was tender as it stroked her skin in the same manner as his hands did and the question "why" seemed very eligible in the context.

Though the night prior to this one had held its share of surprises on the sex front; his slow kisses and his careful eagerness had been very different from how he had acted in the basement. Then it had been about owning, about breaking her down, about proving her wrong. The night prior had not been.

And the afternoon, evening, night and early morning she had spent with him; in his arms, underneath, on top, breathing or barely able to... those hours had proven to her what she had suspected all along - that as a lover he was attentive. Sure, it had been rough at times - but in a good way. In an exciting way. And to, in the following moment, be reduced into excruciating slowness.

He ruled her; he broke her down so easily.

How could she battle him with her hands when the feel of his cool skin made her ache, had her trembling? How could she win when such a big part of her was dying to lose, and let him conquer her to the very last cell of her?

She couldn't - could she?

She opened her eyes before pulling her face an inch away from his, waiting until he reluctantly eased his eyes open as well. Then a small smile, which he couldn't take as anything else, formed on her lips and he returned it hesitantly. There had been a few of those, though the long glances she gave him so filled with clear desire were less scarce, and he admitted to enjoying those just one notch below how incredible the way she was looking at him right now made him feel.

Somewhere, deep down there in the green, lay those somedays and what ifs and maybes and when she rested her eyes in his like that - then she could see. She couldn't help but see.

They hadn't spoken one word in four hours.

During that time their bodies and senses had had the most powerful and intimate conversation to which they had ever been the humble subjects to; and so words were deemed unnecessary.

Though neither one of them had any concept of time, of course. They could tell it somewhat by the sun setting, shadows spreading to give way for pure darkness and the need for candlelight. And then the candles slow burning down to melt into sad heaps of white, cream and crimson. Soon after that the shadows were on the run, chased by building light and gradually the crypt let scattered rays grace its floor through tattered windowpanes.

Now the morning was gracing the atmosphere and Buffy suddenly shuddered, the chill claiming her as it ran its fingers up her back.

"Cold?" he broke the silence and she smiled again.

He swallowed, feeling all thumbs at how to act now. Where to go from there.

Then she slid one hand up behind his neck, propping herself up on one elbow before she moved her body closer to his.

He swallowed harder.

Her lips gently graced his and a jolt went through him, his heart beating for a second before her face moved to nestle against the side of his throat, her hand gliding down from his neck and over his back as she pressed herself to him. He let one hand bury itself in her locks as he held her close, closing his eyes and feeling truly blessed that he was granted this moment.

"No," she murmured; lips to the side of his throat and he drew a small breath at the sensation. "Okay, so maybe a little," she then added and he chuckled quietly as she pulled her head back to look up at him again.

She smiled wider at the sight of the unmasked enjoyment on his features, and the expression merely widened as he seemed to grow self-conscious.

"What's so bloody amusing?" he finally muttered and she giggled, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and then kissing him on the mouth softly.

"I thought you'd have some snazzy comeback like 'Let's see if I can't bloody warm you up', or 'Come here and I'll make you all warm and snug', or..."

"Okay," he interrupted, not able to hold back a smile as well. "Sorry I disappointed," he then added and she cocked an eyebrow.

She moved her head forward and this time she caught his lower lip between the both of hers, her tongue running over it before she kissed him deeply. He let hear a muffled moan as he kissed her back, rolling her over and sliding into place between her thighs.

"Apology not accepted," she mumbled and he smirked, letting his mouth travel down the side of her throat. "You'll have to find another way to..." she added, trailing off as he moved his hips forward and slowly entered her.

"Warm you up?" he asked and she smiled distractedly, nodding.

"Make me snug," she murmured and his smirk broadened as he began to take, and give.

***

8.16 a.m.

"Hungry?" he wondered and she turned her head to him where she lay beside him.

Then she groaned.

"Yes!" she confirmed. "You shouldn't have said anything, though," she added as she watched him sit up and move his legs to the side of the sarcophagus. He gave her a questioning glance over one shoulder and she raised her eyebrows. "Well, you haven't got anything human friendly in here, have you?" she remarked and he smirked.

Then he rose to his feet, turned to her and made a small, theatrical bow before he raised one finger and prayed her patience. Once that was done he practically - but not quite - removed himself from sight as he walked into the small resemblance of a kitchen at the far end of his abode, beginning to open cabinets and the small fridge. Buffy furrowed her brow, wondering what he was up to. Turning herself around she placed herself on her belly to better be able to keep some sort of eye on his on-goings.

Soon enough he re-emerged with a tray in his hands and her eyebrows shot up again.

"You are full of surprises," she said as he put the object down before her and she sat up, eyeing the bread, fruit, the tall glass of milk and a stash of...

"Marshmallows?" she asked, looking up at him and he smiled, grabbing one and throwing it into the air in a perfect aim at his mouth, chewing it as he answered:

"Can't get enough of 'em."

She smiled as well, finding it coming easy this time, and then she nearly blushed before removing her gaze from his. Reaching out her hand she grabbed the nearby lying sheet and pulled it into her lap to cover herself up slightly. She had suddenly felt so bare before him.

So, he likes marshmallows! What's the big deal?!

Clearing her throat she took a grape and brought it to her lips, biting into it. Spike watched her and then arched one eyebrow.

"Hungry, eh?" he then remarked and she smiled again, putting the whole thing in her mouth. "Atta girl," he commended, having her merely wrinkle her nose at him as a reply.

He took a seat facing her, grabbing a fist's worth of marshmallows as well as the cup of blood he had prepared for himself. Buffy watched him closely in something resembling abhor as she anticipated him to blend the candy in with the food. He didn't, merely gobbled some up before taking a mouthful of the thick liquid and she let out the air she had been holding, making him look at her. She shrugged dismissively, taking a piece of the bread and beginning to chew on it thoughtfully as she rested her gaze in his.

"Guess you didn't have this problem with Dru, huh?" she asked and he choked on the blood he had just been swallowing at the mention of his ex as well as the casual way in which it had been delivered. "Well, I mean... You didn't have to buy - oh, pardon me - steal food to keep around at the chance of her dropping by," the Slayer added innocently and now he smirked.

"For your well-needed information, love," he then stated, "none of that was brought here for YOUR sake."

"Oh, really?" she asked and he nodded firmly. "Got any other little mortal lovers stashed below?" she wondered, reaching out a hand as she spoke and trailing it up his right arm.

"I think it's pretty sodding safe to say that no matter what we may be - we're NOT 'lovers'," he shot and she removed her hand with a sinking feeling in her chest which she managed to ignore completely before she gave a small shrug.

"So... you eat this stuff?" she wondered, gesturing to the tray and he smiled again.

"Sure I eat it, if I'm in the mood," he replied and she returned the smile.

"How normal of you," she said and the smile turned into a smirk. "I know, I know," she then sighed. "Whatever the two of us may be it sure as hell ain't 'normal'," she finished and he laughed at that, nodding.

"Ain't it the sad truth?" he asked and they both grew serious.

Buffy wasn't sure what to say next. Spike really wasn't either.

"You and Dru," she tried the subject again, having his eyes in hers immediately. "I guess you had some pretty wild times, huh?" she added and he smiled widely. "Ugh, I shouldn't have asked," she shuddered.

"Then why did you?" he inquired and she shrank underneath his searching gaze until she managed to get out:

"I hope I'm not missing anything important at school... Studying is sucha drag. If I have to make up for info lost then..." she was interrupted by him leaning forward and kissing her on the lips. "I'm not sure how to make the time," she finished her sentence, eyes still closed as he sat back again.

Then she opened them and looked at him in silence for a few moments before she shook her head.

"What are we doing?" she asked him and he tilted his head a little to one side.

Then he threw himself forward and tilted her back, making her giggle loudly as she fought to get lose. Though this time he pinned her down and she looked up at him as he let his face hover above hers. Kissing the tip of her nose, then her forehead and last her lips he then smiled.

"Wanna ask me again?" he wondered silently and she smiled widely, returning the kiss he then gave her before he placed himself by her side and she moved to place her head on his chest.

They were quiet for a little while, both content in that and both too comfortable to ponder any further on their comfort. And then he opened his big mouth as he asked:

"What does the Captain think about all this?" He felt how she grew stiff against him, but he couldn't shut himself up now; this had been on his mind to and fro and he needed to hear what she had to say. "Don't you think taking off time from your busy love-dee-love schedule to come spend it with me might make him..." She slowly sat up and he turned his head to look at her as she ran one hand through her locks, getting them out of her face. "...miss you," he then finished his sentence and she shook her head a little before crawling to the edge of the sarcophagus and removing herself from it, standing on both legs she said:

"I have to go."

She wasn't looking at him, and he bit his jaws together in growing defeat as he watched her walk into the room, gathering up her clothes as she went and then going up to the armchair to begin to dress. He scooted to the side of the sculpted stone as well, getting to his feet and approaching her as she pulled her sweater over her head.

"You understand I bloody had to ask, don't you?" he wondered and she shook her head again before she turned to face him, her expression suddenly distant and cold.

She was pushing him away with her gaze and he stopped five feet from her as he read the storm going on within her. What was she so scared of? He couldn't understand why she acted so cornered.

"Look, what goes on between Riley and me is none of your business," she stated and he blinked, reaching down and grabbing his pants lying on the floor, tugging them on and jumping into them he buttoned them with rather angered movements before he rested his eyes in hers once more.

"Sleeping with me for nearly one bloody day straight and it's 'none of my business'?!" he exclaimed.

"Like you said, Spike: we're not 'lovers'; so why the hell should I tell you anything? Apart from the right directions, that is," she shot and he stared at her before he replied coolly:

"I don't think you EVER needed to do that, love."

She ground her teeth, crossing her arms over her chest as she struggled to collect herself.

"I have to go," she then repeated, turning and walking up to the door.

"Buffy," he stopped her and she drew a rather shaky breath as she closed her eyes, waiting to hear what he had to say with her back still to him. "You're just gonna leave?"

"Yes," she answered him, turning partially to him and holding his gaze firmly.

"Just like that?"

She looked at him and felt like her heart was breaking into two pieces as two sides of her struggled for recognition. She knew she couldn't stay, she had completely gone too far with this already; she had forgotten about everything that waited outside. She couldn't let herself do that anymore, she had to take control... but, God, how she didn't want to go.

"Yeah," she now replied. "Just like that."

"Wear and tear?" he murmured and she swallowed.

"I can't do this right now," she merely replied and he halted her second attempt at exiting as he yelled:

"No, you just do ME, don't you?!"

She gave him a sharp glare at that.

"I haven't heard any complaints so far, why start now?" she retorted and his eyebrows rose.

"'Cause you're just about out the sodding door, that's why!" he then raised his voice again and she bit her jaws together hard as she met his furious gaze.

"And what is this to you?" she shot. "What am I to you, Spike? You're milking this situation for every last drabble and I'd bet you anything I can tell you why." He gave her a look to give it her best shot and she took a step forward as she stated: "So that you can brag to all your little social buddies over cards and liquor that yeah, you aimed high too - once."

He met her half way and his eyes were shooting lightening as hers displayed thunder, their stances so rigid you couldn't have imagined they had only a short minute earlier been wrapped in each other's arms.

"I don't have any bleeding 'social buddies' to brag to anymore, Slayer," he snarled. "Remember?" he added, tapping the back of his head meaningfully and she rolled her eyes at his melodramatics before he continued with: "And as for aiming high... I've aimed higher."

"I hate you. I really do hate you," she murmured.

"So leave," he grumbled. "See if I care."

"You haven't claimed your prize," she suddenly remarked and he blinked as he looked down at her. "You won the Truth or Dare... So claim it now and be done with it."

He could see the growing plea in her eyes and he realized, to his own amazement, that she wanted him to claim HER.

"You said you weren't something to be had," he reminded, voice lowered as he grew very aware of how close they were standing to one another. Their chests were practically touching, her body heat extending, her scent circling and binding... It was poison, and it ran through his veins easily.

I can't do this. I can't do this. Not again. I'll never break free of him. I'll be stuck in here forever...

She took a step back, and he watched the plea reduce to nothing as her eyes hardened slowly. The determination on her was palpable and he drew an unnoticeable breath at the fact of it, and the fact that once again he stood as the loser before her.

"I'm not," she confirmed silently.

"Are you going to HIM?" he muttered and she looked up at him.

"You said you don't believe in jealousy," she mimicked his matter-of-factly tone and he cocked an eyebrow as she turned and walked back up to the door.

This time she opened it, stepped through it and left him all alone again.

He couldn't stop her.

And something told him this was how it would always be.

Her leaving.

Him watching.

As he was left behind.

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

Thirty: The Last Moment's Peace

By Annie

2003-05-12

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

Day Twenty-Five.

8.49 a.m.

Buffy closed the door to her dorm room; sighing with relief that it was empty before walking up to flop herself down on her bed.

She hadn't stopped once on her way from the crypt, but now the urge to just throw the door open and run straight back there was completely overwhelming. One second she wanted to hit herself hard over the head for leaving, the next she could do nothing but praise the initiative to do so as she realized that if she had stayed... Well, the intimacy had grown into something she couldn't accept. There was no way that she could.

Leaving had been the right thing to do.

She moaned and rolled over on her side as she wrapped her arms around her and closed her eyes. What was it that stated that she had to be the good girl in every single situation? She had loved a vampire once...

But he had had a soul. And whatever this was with Spike - it sure as hell wasn't anything even resembling love. It wasn't anything but passion. And it wasn't healthy, she knew it wasn't. It was blinding and mind-blowing and totally...altering.

"Altering of what?" she muttered. "Your bodily structure?" she added and then she smiled a bitter smile as she opened her eyes again.

And you can't seriously be comparing him with Angel, she added in her mind. Think of how different they are. The only likeness is their heritage... Okay, stop thinking about Spike. Please! You left. You can't go back now, no matter what, right? So don't dwell!

She couldn't understand why he was acting jealous, though. She thought he really wasn't the type who actually believed in monogamy, so why would he act so possessive of her? Like he didn't want her to be with anybody else... For him to not want that he'd have to...

And he doesn't! she told herself now. He can't feel anything for me. Especially not something so oddly affectionate as... affection.

But there was more there, she knew it. She could see it on him whenever he looked at her. She could feel it deep down and everywhere when he touched her, when he held her... Where had the impatience disappeared to? That emotion which made it impossible for either one of them to be able to look at the other and see anything but that loathed competitor? Where was that backdrop of disgust and anger in his eyes that had always rested there before?

"It's gone," she murmured, sitting up and drawing a breath as she met Willow's questioning gaze. "Erg...hi," the Slayer hurriedly added. "I-I didn't hear you come in..."

Willow smiled hesitantly, observing her friend before she asked:

"What's gone?"

"Oh, nothing... Just this stupid thing with... You know, that thing and everything and what've you been up to?" Buffy managed an attempt at a diversion.

It seemed to work as Willow sighed tiredly.

"Homework, homework, homework," she replied and Buffy smiled empathically. "I didn't notice you come in last night... or when you left this morning," the redhead added and Buffy's smile turned rather stale.

"I..." she mumbled, not able to lie her friend straight in the face she instead searched for a good enough excuse.

Willow produced it for her as she said:

"Oh, before I forget. Giles wanted to see you yesterday, but he couldn't find you and so he left a note."

Walking up to the desk standing to the right of the door she retrieved the said note and handed it to the Slayer, who read it and then shook her head at herself. She had completely forgotten about telling Giles about the two demons working together, she had completely forgotten about a lot of things during the past twenty-four hours or so. Well, no more or that.

"What are you wearing to the party tonight?" Willow asked and Buffy's eyes grew wide.

"Oh, damn! I completely forgot about that," she muttered, putting the note down on the bed and getting to her feet. "You know... I'm not so sure it's a good thing that I go. Things are kinda tight between Riley and me right now, and I'm betting he wouldn't exactly do the hop at me showing up at HIS fraternity party," she added.

"I don't understand, Buffy. What HAPPENED between the two of you?" Willow asked and Buffy bit her jaws together.

"What didn't," she murmured, and then she got a hold on herself and met the other's eyes with a shake of the head. "It's complicated," she added as an explanation and Willow looked dissatisfied with that.

"So give me the cliff notes version, or the one-sentence version, or YOUR version. Just tell me," she then pleaded and Buffy eyed her for a moment before she swallowed.

"I can't," she then said. "I'm sorry, but I just can't. Yet. I have to work this out for myself first," she added at Willow's wondering gaze.

The latter looked sympathetic before she rose and wrapped her arms around the blonde in a hard hug.

"Of course you have to," she replied. "I didn't mean to push," she added and Buffy smiled at her before she gave her a hug back.

"I love you, Will," she said and Willow smiled widely as well.

"Love you too," she agreed.

***

9.45 p.m.

Buffy had butterflies in her stomach when she walked into the large house hosting the "fraternity" which Riley and a dozen other Initiative soldiers helped keep alive the smoke screen of being part of. The place was already filled with people and she had a look around before she walked with Willow and Tara to the table stocked with refreshments.

The Slayer could be proud of herself. She had fought hard the entire day and it had bared fruit - no run-ins, no visits with and no sightings of a certain bleached vampire. She had kept herself out of harm's way and come out standing. Looking great, even. She was very pleased.

Well, with herself that was. Not much else of the pleasing going on, was there?

Buffy, a well-known voice said sharply. We are to have no more of those comments, understood?

"Whatever," she muttered, taking the plastic cup filled with punch and sipping it as she turned around and saw Riley.

He had obviously spotted her as well and her heart began to race as he approached her. She didn't know what to say to him. She still felt so ashamed.

"Hi," he said with a small smile and she returned it tryingly. "Didn't think you'd show."

"Me neither," she replied. "But Willow was going, so I thought I'd just." she trailed off and his smile widened slightly.

"Tag along?" he suggested and she nodded.

"Rye!" Forrest called from the stairs and Riley turned toward the sound.

The fellow agent signed for him to come join and Riley nodded.

"I'll see you around then?" he asked and she nodded.

"Yeah," she mumbled, watching him as he walked across the room to join the others.

She spent the following hour in the company of Willow and Tara, Xander joining them when half the time had floated by and they chatted carelessly as they put the Adam suit on a hanger for an evening. Buffy was just beginning to relax into it when Xander suddenly removed himself from their company, stalking up to the entrance door and the couple who had just walked through it. Buffy's eyes grew involuntarily as she stared from Anya to Spike and then she rose as well.

Was he crazy? What was he doing there?!

She kept herself in the outer vicinity of the not-so-loud fight emerging between the ex-demon and the mortal. Spike was throwing in his own little pieces to the puzzle and she wanted to hit him. Hard. What the hell was he doing with her? She knew Xander and Anya had had a very-loud fight earlier that day so... Perhaps the question she should be asking was what the hell was SHE doing with HIM?

It seemed that was the topic at hand for the ongoing lovers quarrel and she didn't want to eaves drop, but couldn't resist.

She was five feet away, and trying to stay inconspicuous behind a group of four teenagers, when Spike turned his head and rested his gaze in hers. She bit her jaws together hard at the growing self-assurance on him. At that insufferable trait cockiness. She hadn't seen it in some time, it felt like; and so now it simply hit her in the middle of the forehead and she realized where the impatience had run off to as it came hurrying back into her chest.

This was about the time when Xander began to bellow out the proclamation of Hostile Seventeen being in the room, making Spike take his gaze from the Slayer's for staring at the mortal in disbelief as well as growing need to destroy. It was replaced by caution as he looked around the room and Buffy was as well, her heart beating hard in her chest and her mind racing at the different scenarios which could be about to take place if they tried to capture him.

She owed him her life, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to stand back and let them put him in one of their cages again... If she helped him escape it would probably have her friends doubt her state of mind being all good-to-go, though. She could live with that. Usually she felt as though it wasn't anyway.

However, the party went on, the soldier boys kept dancing and laughing and talking, there was no posse standing ready with stun guns and nets. She blinked, and when she directed her eyes on the other three she noticed one was missing.

He couldn't have gotten far and knowing him - the little that she did - she was pretty sure where to find him.

Leaving Anya and Xander to deal on their own, Buffy went out in search for the largest keg of the party. She could merely smirk when she saw the leather clad form she had been looking for, standing next to it.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, shaking her head at him as he turned around, swallowing the mouthful of beer he had just taken and giving her a very cold glare.

"What the bloody hell's it to you?" he growled, brushing past her as he walked up to sit down on a nearby couch.

She turned and followed, stopping right before him and looking down at him before she leaned forward. As her face closed in on his the atmosphere slowly changed around them and she could feel the sudden and growing tension between them. Damn. She straightened her back again and took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest.

Spike was so angry with her. He was sick of feeling angry with himself and it was so much simpler directing the feeling on an easy target. His will had chosen her and he felt he had good reason. She kept plowing him under, storming into his life in one moment just to leave it as hastily the next. Uninvited she had taken the honorary seat of his thoughts and he wanted nothing more than to get her the hell off of it!

She could see that he was mad at her; it was clear enough. But something else lay at the edge of the blueness which rested in her green. She couldn't grasp the sense of it, but she knew it was there. Deep down. Buried and hidden in the same reluctance to show weakness that she harbored. Weakness merely lead to pain, to disappointment.

When did he ever disappoint you? she asked herself quietly and she stared at him as he glared back. Has he broken the handshake? The silly code you installed between the two of you?

Spike watched the rather thoughtful expression drawing over her features before she took another step back from him. She unwrapped her arms as she adopted his expression and then she grumbled:

"Fine," before she turned to remove herself from his presence.

He kept his eyes hard as he watched her back be blocked out by moving bodies, and then he let out a small huff of breath as he closed them.

It was easy to put iron around his heart and be sure nothing would ever melt it - when he wasn't near her. But when she was close, close enough to touch. Close enough to SEE... Was this how it was supposed to be? Really? Was he supposed to give her up? Without a fight? If he could only make her understand that what she did to him was so much more than mere satisfaction; if he could show her how she dug deep into him and didn't leave that place even when she herself left him - like she usually did. If he could do that, then perhaps she would see him as someone who...

Don't go there, Spike, my boy, he muttered in his head as he got to his feet. You've been there before and had to turn back. She won't ever! Let it sink through your thick skull. What she wants from you has nothing to do with emotions.

But it could, he countered. I know it. I know it could.

She's with perfect-little-human, protector-of-all-human, all-through-and- through-human soldier boy! Or did that happen to slip your mind?

He was so sodding confused. Hate her versus can't help but love her...need her...crave her. It was driving him out of his mind. He couldn't bloody breathe!

Oh. Great. Bleeding terrific. Now she had him thinking that he actually NEEDED to push air in and out of his buggering lungs!

He huffed at that, putting the beer down and shaking his head at himself.

He needed to make up his mind. The first step was to take a bunch of steps out of the place hosting her, get himself a girl for the night and... forget. Just forget all of it. And when he had repeated this for enough nights perhaps he wouldn't have to remind himself to forget... Perhaps she'd be erased.

He moved toward the exit door when he bumped into someone and he blinked, looking down.

"Willow," he said and she smiled hesitantly.

"Oh-so-unlikely-ally," she greeted and he smirked rather uncertainly as well.

"How's the evening treating you, then?" he asked and she shrugged a little.

"It's okay, I guess. If you like loud music and funky tasting punch and two of your closest friends being all in a bad mood," she sighed.

"Well, I was just leaving," he stated, gesturing toward the door, but it seemed she didn't pick up on it as she continued with:

"You know, you'd think they could just fess up, wouldn't you? I'd actually been looking forward to this. Getting out, amongst people with T-...other people. You know?"

He observed her for a moment; then nodded a little, looking around the room in search for someone else who would actually listen to the apprentice Wicca complaining.

"It's sucha bummer. Couldn't they make up and move on? Forgive and forget? Isn't that what love's all about? Xander's clearly only thinking about Anya anyways," she grumbled, leaning against the wall behind her and sounding as though she was more or less talking to herself.

"Anya. Right," Spike nodded, still glancing about the room, looking for an escape.

"And Buffy's all moping over Riley, which I think is ridiculous! If she wants him, she shouldn't give up on him so easily! I get the feeling that..."

"What did you just say?" he interrupted her, staring at her questioningly.

"I said: I-get-the-feeling-that..."

"No," he once more cut her off, shaking his head slightly. "About Buffy 'moping' over soldier boy."

"Well, they... broke up," Willow replied. "A few days ago, I guess it is now..."

He looked so shocked the redhead almost moved a hand before his eyes to snap him out of it, and then he blinked, squared his shoulders and quickly left.

Willow furrowed her brow as those wheels of hers began to turn in her head.

"I get the feeling that there's more to it than she wants to lead on," she filled in the sentence to herself.

Buffy swallowed the last of her punch, gave Tara a smile and excused herself to go see if she could find Xander. Tara nodded, saying that she'd go and look for Willow and the two girls parted.

The Slayer walked through one of the hallways leading to the kitchen. There were doors on either side of her and since there was so much commotion going on around her anyways she didn't react when one of them was opened. However, a firm grip taking hold on her left upper arm and pulling her harshly through the doorway made her draw a breath in surprise.

She pulled out of the hold as soon as the door slid shut behind her and she spun around to meet Spike's gaze.

"God! You HAVE to stop doing this!" she exclaimed and he cocked an eyebrow.

"Pulling you into rooms and closing the door? I'm sorry for my pertinence, love, but I do believe this IS a first," he remarked and she clenched her hands into fists as she let out a growl, turning from him and beginning to pace.

"That's NOT what I mean! You have to stop this whole appearing-out-of- nowhere act! Being everywhere at the same time is a really annoying habit for someone who doesn't even come close to a super-hero kinda character," she replied and he looked at her in such a suddenly searching way that it took her breath clear from her chest, making her stop before taking a step back and shake her head. "You can't keep doing this, Spike. This isn't holding. We both know that. We have to... We have to stop this."

"I bumped into Red just now - literally, as a matter of fact," he said and she raised her eyebrows.

The lamp on the bed stand spread a glow-y light in the room and it lit her up from behind, making her hair into a halo and her form luminous. She was so beautiful in that moment. So vibrant, her life infecting him, dancing around him in the air. And he knew that no matter what happened he would always choose her, choose love. No one would ever compare, not in a thousand years.

And his heart sank as he understood that he just might come to find that out for himself.

"Willow?! I'm trying to yell at you and you switch topics like it's new years eve?" she asked and he frowned.

"Was that supposed to make any bloody sense to me at all?" he asked back and she rolled her eyes.

"Rhetorical!" she shot and he smirked.

"So, sorry again, then. But Red had something interesting to s-..."

"I don't care if she told you Adam is five minutes from storming the place, okay? I'm trying to tell you that whatever this was - between you and me - it has to stop. I can't..."

"Why did you break up with soldier boy?" he asked her quietly and she stared at him, completely blown by that inquiry.

"I-I didn't," she finally mumbled, her eyes in the man's

vampire's

before her and then she blinked. "We both just felt that..."

"Why?" he demanded, taking a step forward and she put her arms around herself as though she wished to shut him out.

"Well..."

"Buffy! Why?!"

"Because of YOU!" she shouted, unfolding her arms and beginning to pace once more.

Spike's eyes grew as he watched her march on the small space she was ordained by the bedside table and the fact that he was standing a few feet before her.

"Because of what I've done," she added, voice lowered as she stopped with her back to him, putting her hands before her face as her shoulders suddenly shook he realized that she was crying. "Damn it," she mumbled through her fingers, swiping at her tears.

"If you want him back why don't you fight for him?" he asked silently and she slowly turned to face him. "If you miss him...?" he added and she felt the slowly emerging defeat fill her as she met his gaze, held it and understood that she couldn't deny him anymore.

Taking the few steps parting them she stepped into him and put her arms around him before she moved her lips to kiss his throat, his chin, and finally join them with his. They both deepened the kiss carefully and she couldn't help but sob with something close to relief as she had to drop the last of the armor which she had tried to put on as a defense against him. It had weighed too heavily... With it gone she felt as though she was lifting off the ground.

"Buffy," he mumbled and she moved her arms to wrap them around his neck as she whispered:

"Don't let me go. Whatever happens, just don't ever let me go."

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