Chapter 6:
 

“I’m sorry about my friends,” Buffy apologized as she opened the door to Riley’s room. “They’re jerks. Ignore them.”

“Don’t worry about it, Buffy. I thought they were nice,” Riley said, smiling down at her.

She blinked at him. Had Riley not picked up on any of the sarcasm and sly jibes that had been flying through the living room? Apparently not, since he was now blinking down at her benignly. Hey, this is going to be easier than I thought!

“Oh, that’s great then.” She returned his smile. “Look, I’m going to go downstairs and talk to them, and you can get settles in. Okay?”

“Sounds good.” Now he sounded bemused, which in Buffy’s mind was definitely a good thing. She needed him to stay confused long enough for her to kill her friends.

“Okay then! See you in a few.” She kissed him on the cheek briefly and fairly ran downstairs.

Everyone was clustered around the phone in the living room. They all wore identical grins. Fury rose in her when she realized—they’d planned this!

“A-hem.”

They all jumped and looked at her. She raised an eyebrow at them quizzically. “Who put you up to this?”

Now they looked guilty. Good. She was mad.

“Well, Buff, we actually kind of planned on doing it anyway...” Xander began.

“But then we got a call from Dawn. She’s really a very nice girl, and don’t get mad at her, because it wasn’t all her idea...” Willow trailed off when Buffy stared hard at her.

“We chipped in,” Oz assisted his babbling girlfriend.

“Kid’s got a wicked scary mind, though,” Faith said with a grin. “I mean, I thought I had imagination...”

“Please don’t be too mad,” Willow said, attempting a smile.

Buffy sighed. She couldn’t be furious, not when everyone in the room was looking at her so pleadingly...well, okay, that wasn’t true. Spike and Faith wore identical smirks, Cordelia was all wide-eyed coolness, and Oz was as inscrutable as ever. But Xander and Willow were both definitely pleading.

“I’m not mad,” she said, “just nervous. I wanted everything to be perfect for Riley and then you guys made with the sarcasm.”

“Don’t worry, Goldilocks,” Spike said with a wink, “’M pretty sure the boy didn’t notice a thing was wrong.”

She rounded on him. “Don’t you even start!” she cried. “You were worst than the rest of them, staring and smirking and making cracks about how he was a ‘growing boy’—arg! One of these days...”

“Yeah? You’ll do what?” he snapped, taking a step forward.

“Um, guys, no offense or anything, but Riley can probably hear you,” Cordelia reminded them.

“Yes, and also you sound more flirtatious than angry, which considering that Buffy’s boyfriend is up there, is definitely unadvisable,” Anya said.

“Anya!” Buffy was mortified.

Xander stared at her. “You call that flirting? I’d hate to see what they did if they ever decided to seriously go at it.”

“Xander!”

“Sorry Buff, but I just gotta know—“

“No, you don’t!”

“What’s the matter? Embarrassed?” Spike asked, curling his tongue behind his teeth. “”Cause that would make it true...”

“What are you guys talking about?”

The previously boisterous room fell completely silent as everyone in it turned to look at Buffy’s boyfriend. Buffy herself was reeling. She tried hard to shift from furious to sweet. “Hey, Riley. We were just talking about plans for tomorrow.”

Even Anya knew better than to correct her on that. Buffy felt guilty for lying, but really, what was she going to say? “We were just talking about how everyone in this room but me was out to get you?” Um, no.

“Really? I’ve thought of some fun things to do. I mean, if all of you guys are interested,” he added.

“You thought of things to do in Sunnydale, the one-Starbucks town? I’m impressed. Count me in,” Xander said.

“I’d love to go too. Since Xander’s going, and all.” Anya darted a glance over at Xander to see if he’d noticed her comment, but he seemed completely clueless. She rolled her eyes as the females in the room smiled sympathetically.

“Great! So, do you maybe want to go get cleaned up?” He asked Buffy. “I saw this great restaurant in town. We could go there, get caught up.”

“Sounds good.” Buffy smiled at him. She liked Riley. He was nice and normal and innocent in a way that none of her friends were. He was good for her, she was convinced of that. After—what had happened in LA, she needed some stability.

“Mmm.” He nuzzled her hair. “Take a shower fast, can you?”

“Will do.” She glanced over at her friends. Everyone but Spike looked weirded out by the minor PDA. Spike just looked mad.

She suddenly got visions of what he might put Riley through when she went up to shower. Oh God, he’ll eat Riley alive! She disentangled herself from her boyfriend and said, “Spike? I need to talk to you.”

He frowned but followed her into the kitchen. “Problem?”

“Please don’t antagonize Riley while I’m showering, okay?”

Did he just gulp? Was he scared of her? Ooh, that had possibilities...but no, now he was just scowling. “You want me to coddle your boy so he isn’t scared off?”

“Um. Yes?” She offered him a smile.

He stared at her for a second before sighing and rolling his eyes. “Right then. I’ll play nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, well, ‘m not doin’ it for you. Guy’s no fun. He’s too stupid to realize ‘m making fun of him.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Hey! Don’t insult my boyfriend! He’s not stupid, just...polite.”

“Right. You go on believing that, then. I’m sure it’ll make your life that much happier.”

That was it. She raised her fist and drove it forward—

Only to have it caught in a grip too strong for her to yank it out of. “Now, now, pet,” he said, grinning at her. “You wouldn’t want the boyfriend to know you were getting in fights, now would you?”

She rolled her eyes, but her fist dropped. “Watch it,” she hissed, before hurrying upstairs.

Her warning would have been a lot more effective, she thought, if she hadn’t felt like she was running away.

*

Fifteen minutes after Buffy ran upstairs, Spike had found out more about her boyfriend than he’d ever wanted to know.

He grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere. His father was in the military, his mother made award-winning apple pies. He thought gangs were cool and wanted to be a cop.

Sodding hell, if the boy got any more All-American he’d turn into one of those apple pies his mum makes so damn well.

Everyone in the room—excepting Riley, of course—was on pins and needles. None of them liked the Iowa farm boy, but they knew they had to keep the fact from Buffy. The result was all of them trying to be kind and civil and failing utterly.

So it was a relief to everyone, even Spike, when Buffy bounded down the stairs an hour later. riley leapt to his feet; the others weren’t far behind.

“I’m all clean,” Buffy sang, running into Riley’s embrace.

“I can tell,” he said in a slightly strained voice. Spike’s eyes narrowed; he knew exactly what was going through the ponce’s head, and he didn’t like it. He wanted his enemy hale and healthy, and she wasn’t going to stay that way if Riley pulled a Parker on her.

“What time’re you two gonna be back?” His voice cut through the flirting and uncomfortable muttering.

Buffy grimaced. “Why do you care?”

“He was asking for me,” Anya intervened. “Since this is my house, I would like to know when you two will be coming back. That way I won’t mistake you for a couple of burglars and bash your skulls in.”

Buffy looked amused, but Riley looked nervous. “I’ll have her home by midnight at the latest,” he promised.

“Good,” Faith said. “Don’t make up have to come searching for ya.”

“I won’t, promise. Um. Bye!” He fled out the door. Buffy followed a bit more slowly, pausing to smile at her friends and hug Anya before joining Riley in his car.

“I don’t like ‘im,” Spike announced. His body was still tense with annoyance. Why Buffy was dating that boring Captain Cardboard, he had no idea. “Man’s a bloody nitwit.”

“Yeah, I haven’t met anyone that boring since...actually, never,” Xander said.

“Well, Buffy likes him,” Willow began hesitantly. Faith cut her off by snorting.

“Oh, please. She likes him for one reason and one reason only.”

“I thought they hadn’t had sex yet,” Anya said, frowning.

“Wrong reason,” Faith said with a laugh. “I gotta admit, though, I’d take Soldier Boy for a ride. But that’s not way she’s dating him. Is it, Spike?”

Great, now everyone was looking at him. All he wanted to do was slam his fist into that guy’s face. “Why the bloody hell is everyone looking at me?”

“You can usually read her pretty well. Why is she dating him?”

“Damn it, Red, I don’t know!” He wished he did. “The only thing I can see is maybe she likes being able to wrap Captain Cardboard around her pinky finger.”

“Well, that makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, she seems like maybe something bad happened in LA, so control would be a good thing for her. It’s probably an automatic reaction.” Willow sounded anxious. Spike couldn’t help but wonder if disliking someone was a new experience for her.

“Or Buffster’s just a control freak,” Xander said. “I mean, I’m not criticizing her, but she does like to be in control of everything.”

“Either way, I don’t like him,” Oz said softly.

Silence met her announcement. It was fairly common for the other to announce their dislike of someone, but when Oz spoke, it was decided: that person could never be a part of their group.

“So, what do we do now? Kill him?” Faith asked.

“I’ll do it,” Spike volunteered.

Cordelia laughed. “You, like, really hate him, don’t you?”

“Damn right,” he growled.

“Wow,” Oz said. “It’s gonna be a long weekend.”

~*~

It was. Immensely, horribly, awfully long. Spike hadn’t experienced anything quite as excruciating as the weekend with Buffy’s boyfriend.

Thank God he had to drive back Sunday afternoon. Another hour in the boy’s (he was Spike’s age, but Spike still thought of him as a boy) company, and he would have slit his own throat.

As it was, he heaved a sigh of relief when they waved him off on Sunday. The gang had spent every weekend together since they were tots, but he’d actually been tempted to do schoolwork this time, he was that desperate to get away from Riley. It wasn’t a situation he was accustomed to. Usually, if he hated a person, he got rid of them, one way or another.

Well, except for Buffy. But she was a special case, being Anya’s friend and all.

Riley should have been another special case. Spike tried hard to just grit his teeth and put up with him. But dammit, it didn’t work. Buffy at least was a worthy opponent. Riley was just an annoyance who wouldn’t fight back.

As soon as his car disappeared, the group turned round and reentered Anya’s house. Buffy’s shoulders were slumped. Spike cocked an eyebrow at her. “You all right, pet?”

“Fine. Just sad.”

“Ah, yes. Don’t you just hate saying goodbye to a loved one?”

“He’s not—“ Buffy’s head jerked up. “Hey! You tricked me!”

Spike smirked. She couldn’t be feeling that bad if she could still catch him teasing her. “Just trying to cheer you up is all. So, Captain Cardboard isn’t the love of your life?”

“I don’t know. We’ve only been dating for a few months.”

“And you moved away from him in the middle of the first semester of your junior year...why?”

“Just because!” Buffy plopped down on the couch. Spike’s smirk turned into a genuine frown. Now he knew something was wrong. She always stood up when they fought.

“Can you please stop questioning me?”

He blinked at her. Was that—was she crying? “What the hell’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” She swiped at her face. “I’m just...I need to lie down. I’m tired.” She ran up the stairs.

“Great job, idiot,” Cordelia said. “Now we’re going to have to go pry the truth out of her.”

“What did I do?” Spike was more than a little affronted. He hadn’t been exactly friendly, but he was never nice to her. “’S not my fault Blondie’s got a stick up her—ow!” Anya had smacked him in the back of the head.

“Something happened that she’s not telling up about, you nitwit,” she said. “Didn’t you notice how distant she was this morning with him?”

“’Course not. Just looking at him makes m’ stomach turn.” Spike frowned as he remembered that morning. Come to think of it, she had seemed a little out of it. Riley had tried to kiss her, but she’d pulled away. She was acting like she usually did with Spike, except less angry and more empty.

“Sodding hell, what did he do to her?”

“That’s what we’ve got to go find out,” Willow said. “C’mon, guys, she looked ready to burst into tears. I wanna be there so we can help her.” The three girls hurried upstairs.

Spike cocked his head at Faith. “Aren’t you going to join the party?”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Faith rolled her eyes. “I don’t do the girly chat thing, Spike. You’re my twin, you oughta know that.”

“Well, I did, I just figured you’d want to help her.”

“Look—when she’s ready to go get pounded and forget about him, I’m her girl. Until then, I’m staying out of the way.”

“Guess we’re more alike than we thought. I wouldn’t be up there if you put a gun to my head.”

“Same here, bro.”

They walked into the kitchen. Xander and Oz were lounging at the table. “So, what’s the deal with Buffy?” Xander asked them.

“She’s totally freakin’ over something Riley said. Or maybe did,” Faith said. “Either way, she’s a wet ball of tears right now.”

“The girls went up to comfort her. Guess they’re doin’ the whole Kleenex routine,” spike added.

“And you’re not up there...why?” Oz asked Faith.

“I don’t do emotions. Any kind.”

“Unless it’s anger and homicidal rage, right?” Xander asked, only half sarcastically.

“Yep, pretty much.” Faith looked around the room. “Anya doesn’t smoke, does she? ‘Cause I’m dying for one.”

“Brother dearest does,” Spike said, tossing her a fag and a light. “Have at ‘em.”

They were more alike than he’d previously realized, he mused as Faith took a drag. They were both rougher than the others, a little less exhibitionist with their emotions, and a little more in tune with their violent sides. They also both had a weak spot: caring. When they cared about something they’d do anything to keep it safe.

Funny to think they’d been raised on opposite sides of the big pond.

The four sat in silence for almost an hour before Willow emerged from upstairs. “Well? Is the Buffster gonna survive?” Xander asked.

“She should be fine. We couldn’t get out of her what was wrong, just that it was something Riley said. She wants to go out tonight.” Willow winced. “I had to tell her we already had plans,” she told Oz. “Cordelia can’t go either because of cheerleading, and as soon as Buffy heard that Anya and you had a date,” this was directed at Xander, “she refused to go with her.”

“What? You finally decided to ask her out? ‘Bout time, Xand!” Faith gave him a congratulatory slap on the back.

Spike was as surprised as Faith. The whelp had finally gotten the balls to ask her out, then? Well, as least someone had good news. “Good job, mate,” he said, nodding at Xander.

Xander smiled nervously. “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. In an ‘I’m so terrified I might just wet my pants’ kinda way.”

“Oh, come on, she’s not that bad,” Willow said.

“Yeah, Red, she is.” Spike couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Xander. No wonder he’d been shredding napkins for the past forty-five minutes.

“Anyway,” Willow continued, “That leaves Faith and Spike. Can either of you take her? She doesn’t want anything special, just a night where she doesn’t have to think about Riley issues.”

“Well, I’m not takin’ her,” Spike announced. “Bint would probably kill me just for the fun of it.” He was surprised Buffy hadn’t specifically told Willow that he was not a candidate for her little forgetfulness excrusion.

“Yeah, you have a point. Faith?”

“Well, I was gonna sell crack on Main Street, but yeah, I can take her around,” Faith said with a grin.

“Great! Okay, I’ll go upstairs and tell her, and...that’s that,” Willow said. She hurried out of the room.

“Way to go with the charity, Faith,” Xander said. “Didn’t think you had it in you!”

“Yeah, well, you know me. I make Gandhi look like a friggin’ serial killer.”

“Uh-huh.” Spike rolled his eyes. “Let’s all worship at the altar of Faith.”

“Shut up, bleach-boy.”

And once again, the mood was reverted to lightness.

 

Chapter 7:
~*~

Buffy couldn’t sleep. The night on the town with Faith had gone as well as could be expected, considering her company. Faith was great at making people forget her problems, and she’d exercised her talent dozens of times that night, but what Buffy really needed was someone to talk to.

A tear rolled down her cheek and made a wet spot on her pillow. There was no one to talk to...not about this. There never had been. There never can be.

God, she’d been staring at the cracks in the ceiling for two hours! It was getting ridiculous. Past midnight on a school night and she still couldn’t get asleep. I’m going to be dead in the morning...

Well, lying in bed sure as hell wasn’t helping. Maybe a snack would send her to sleep. Buffy rolled out of bed, stuck her feet in her slippers, and silently crept downstairs.

The moonlight was strong that night, giving the kitchen a silver glow that was more than enough to see by. She opened the refrigerator, but thanks to Anya’s love of small businesses and complete ineptitude in the kitchen, there was no food to be found. She straightened up, disappointed. Maybe she should just go to bed after all...

She glanced to her left and caught sight of the road, shimmering in the light from the streetlamp. All of a sudden she had a strange, no make that completely insane, thought: I want to go for a walk.

Well, why not? It wasn’t like this weekend could get weirder. First her friends and their interrogations of poor Riley, then Riley himself, and now...now she was alone in a moonlit kitchen with nothing to distract her from her thoughts.

Determination invested itself in her features. Tying her robe around her more tightly, she opened the back door and slipped out.

Dewdrops dampened her slippers as she ghosted toward the road. It was so calm, so quiet. So very unlike her inner turmoil that she wished she could just lie down and melt into the ground. The moonlight was ethereal, so unlike the light of day. In daytime everything was so illuminated that shadows were hidden. Bad and good often looked equally attractive. In the moonlight everything was in shadow, but at least that way she could hide.

Her feet took her down Revello Drive in the opposite direction of the center of town. The houses she passed were all cloaked in shadow. Occasionally, though, she passed a house with a lone light on. She wasn’t the only restless soul that night.

She closed her eyes as she walked, her feet instinctively finding the safe spots on the road. Maybe, just maybe, if she walked long enough, she could get away from all her problems...

She knew it wasn’t true, but she walked anyway, because that was all she could do.

*

Spike couldn’t sleep.

He’d tossed and turned till the sheets lay in a tangle at the foot of his bed, but his eyes wouldn’t even stay closed. Every time he forced the lids down, they popped back open.

Sod it. He sat up, yanked on a pair of boxers, and went down to the living room, intending to grab a snack and maybe watch the telly. He was halfway to the kitchen when something on the road caught his eye.

No, not something, he corrected himself. Someone.

Someone—a girl, by the looks of it—was wandering the streets at half past midnight.

“Bugger. Is Sunnydale full of crazy people?”

Wait—that figure looked familiar. Long blonde hair tumbling down her shoulders, slim figure, determined walk—

“What, in the name of God, is Buffy Summers doin’ walking down the street at 12:30 AM?”

He had to find out. Abandoning the refrigerator, he opened the front door and slipped outside. Luckily for him, the air was warm, so being shoe and shirtless was no problem.

“Buffy!”

She jumped and whipped around, instantly defensive. He jogged toward her, slowed, and stopped when he saw that her hands were fisted. “Easy, pet. It’s just me.”

She lowered her hands, but continued to glare. They were almost directly under a streetlight, so he could see her eyes glinting warily—and the dried tears that shone on her face. “Been crying again?”

“No. What the hell do you want?”

“Well, here’s the thing. I go downstairs to grab a snack, and I see this bird walkin’ outside. When I saw it was you, well, couldn’t help m’self.”

“I just wanted to take a walk.”

“Obviously.” For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what prompted him to say it, but the next thing out of his mouth was, “Look, this is uncomfortable. M’ feet are getting all wet. What say we go sit down on the porch?”

Buffy nodded silently. Uncomfortable silence reigned between them till Spike said, “Right then. It’s this way.” Walking quickly, he went to the porch and sat on the front step. Buffy sat one step up.

“So...wanna tell me what’s got you all in tears?”

All right, now he knew the night air had gotten to him. Since when did he care what Buffy Summers felt? Okay, he’d pried before, but it was concern for an enemy, right? He certainly didn’t want his enemy to commit suicide on him or anything. Still, he didn’t want to psychoanalyze her or anything. It was like Faith had said: he didn’t do feelings.

Then why the hell did he feel like all he wanted to do was make it better?

*

Buffy had no idea what had gotten into him, but she was certainly going to take advantage of it. She’d wished she had someone to talk to, and now he was asking her for an explanation.

But she couldn’t explain why what Riley had said was affecting her so badly unless she explained...everything. She’d sworn she wouldn’t tell anyone, much less the one person in Sunnydale she really hated.

But that was the thing. She thought she hated him, yet he was one of the people she enjoyed being around the most. Before now she’d chalked it up to extreme perversity on her part: she enjoyed fighting way more than was actually healthy. But now she wasn’t so sure. Did she maybe enjoy it because she enjoyed being around him?

Was he maybe—in some strange, twisted way—a friend ?

The idea should have been unsettling. She’d been telling him she hated his guts on a regular basis for a week now. And it was unsettling, sort of. But it was also perfectly understandable, to her at least. A friend was someone you enjoyed being around. She enjoyed being around Spike. Half the time she wanted to rip his head off, yeah, but the truth was, if he was gone for a long time, she’d miss him.

If she was going to tell anyone, she should tell Willow. Or maybe Xander, or even Faith. But Spike? Bleached hair, annoying as hell attitude, eerily perceptive Spike?

Warning bells should have been going off in her head. But here, on this step in the moonlight, all she felt was a sudden calm certainty. She’d kept the truth inside for years, ever since...and it was eating her up. It had to come out sometime.

But first, she had to be sure of something. She had an inkling of what this relationship was for her, but she needed to know how he felt about it.

She glanced over at him and jumped. He was staring at her with a gaze more intent than she’d ever felt in her life. It was strange, unreal... like this whole night, she thought wryly.

She tore her eyes away from his. “Spike...what is this?” she blurted out.

“What is what?” his voice was soft, calm, a perfect counterpoint to hers. In many ways, he was a counterpoint to her.

“What are we? I mean, it seems like we’re enemies, we fight all the time, but sometimes...like that first day in the park...and now, too...it feels like...” she trailed off, unable to force anything else out of a throat that had suddenly choked up.

“Like we’re friends?” He supplied for her. She nodded furiously. “I know what you mean, pet.”

“Oh, that’s good,” she said weakly, and made her decision. It would rip some things apart—she knew she would never be the same—but she would tell him.

“Then you won’t think it’s weird if I tell you something that I haven’t told anyone else?”

Spike’s eyes met hers. “’Ve thought a lot of things about you, Buffy,” he said softly, “But never that you’re weird.”

“Oh. Um—good.” God, now it was damn near impossible to speak. His piercingly perceptive eyes, combined with his use of her given name, made her head spin in a way the night could not. “Also—please, don’t interrupt. Don’t say anything till I tell you I’m done. Otherwise, I won’t be able to get it out.” Her eyes pleaded with him to agree. If he didn’t, she’d shut her secret away where no one could find it.

“Right. I’ll keep quiet ‘till you’re done.”

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath. It’s confession time, Buffy. Now or never.

And for an instant, just an instant, everything seemed to go still, and her world hung in the balance. On one side was the life she had always lived, filled with secrecy, lies, and hidden agony. On the other side was—what? She didn’t know. She had always lived as she did now, behind a mask that hid her pain, crying only when she was sure no one would ask her why.

Now—now she was telling someone. Slowly, she let her breath out, and began.

“It started reasonably innocently. I guess this kind of stuff does, usually. My parents were both really big with the old-timey parenting stuff. You know, children should be seen and not heard, spare the rod spoil the child—that sort of thing. When I misbehaved, I got spanked.

“I was seven when it started. My dad always spanked me, because Mom didn’t have the upper body strength. She’d send me into his study when I disobeyed. One time, when I was about seven and a half I think, she sent me in there because I stole cookies. He spanked me, like he always did, but first he—he touched me.”

Her voice broke, and Spike began to move toward her, but she held up a hand to forestall him. “Please. Let me get this out.” It was actually easier, now that she had started talking. The world had taken on a strange, unreal quality. She felt odd, like she was encased in water or stuck in a dream.

“It was so subtle that at first I thought I’d imagined it. I mean, usually I bent over and he spanked me. This time, I bent over and nothing happened. Then—I felt something touching me, and a second later he spanked me, and then it was over. It wasn’t traumatizing, or even really scary. Just—strange.

“That happened more times than I can count for about two years. It took me half that time to figure out—to figure out that there was something wrong.” Tears began to run down her cheeks as she relived that time. Most people got to wait till they were in their teens for their innocence to be taken. Her had been shattered when she was only eight years old.

“Even then, I didn’t want to believe it. He was my Daddy. Most of the time he was everything a father should be. It was only sometimes that he acted like that. That was what confused me. He was so nice, so normal one moment, and then the next he was doing things to me that I knew were wrong. That was why it took me so long to finally believe what was happening. I didn’t see how anyone could be so nice and so horrible at the same time.

“But after awhile I had to admit that it was true, because the touching got worse. When I hit my preteens he’d do things like run his hands over me when he tucked me in. I woke up to him touching me a few times. Once he had his—hand clamped around my crotch.

“I confronted him about it a few times. He’d get angry or completely deny it. The sick part was, both he and I knew that I didn’t believe him. He didn’t care.

“I can remember once when I was twelve, Mom went to run an errand, and I was left with him. He called me into their bedroom, locked the door, threw off his robe and—“ again her voice broke. Now tears were streaming down her cheeks in earnest. Spike’s face had gone from disturbed to distraught. He reached his hands out, and this time Buffy didn’t resist when he awkwardly patted her back.

“He threw off his robe and told me to take my clothes off. I screamed, ran to my room, and locked the door. That happened a few times. Mostly, though, it was more subtle things.

“It was when I was around thirteen that he started messing with my head. I woke up a few times completely naked, and I knew he’d been—messing—with me. If something like that happens, you just know . It wasn’t rape, or anything, but I knew I’d been touched in a wrong way.

“He told me that I was talking in my sleep. Taking off my clothes and demanding that he fuck me. And you know the sad part?” Buffy gave a hollow laugh. “I believed him. completely bought it, hook, line, and sinker. It was only when I woke up with his hands on me that I knew he’d been lying.

“That was when I decided to fight back. I told Mom what he’d been doing. He must have gotten to her first. They didn’t believe me. They—they sent me to a mental institution for six months. My psychiatrist was a friend of Dad’s. He told my parents that I was suffering from delusions brought on by a desperate need for attention. The solution? Constant parental supervision.

“After that, my life was hell. He was there, all the time, touching but never really hurting, playing with my mind, my body, but never enough for me to prove. And it hurt—God, how much it hurt!”

She couldn’t take it anymore. She buried her head in her arms and sobbed. Everything was coming back to her now—the anger, the fear, the horrible knowledge that she was prey and there was no getting out. Tears flowed down her face like she’d turned on a faucet; in a way, she knew she had.

Spike’s hand running down her hair brought her back to reality. She closed her eyes for a second, cherishing the soft, innocent touch, before forcing herself to talk again. If she was going to tell the truth, she had to tell the whole thing.

“I should probably hate Mom, but I don’t. How could I? She didn’t want to see what her husband was. I know he’d threatened her with sex a few times, but she never drew a connection between that and my accusation. It was like my refusal to see that he was hurting me. You only believe the things you want to.

“It got much worse last year, bad enough that I started to fear for my life. He’d pull a gun on me in the car and then, when I got teary, laugh and say he was joking. But...I knew he wasn’t. It was his way of keeping me on edge, of warning me without actually admitting what he was doing.

“I knew I had to get out. I couldn’t tell anyone, not without proof. I guess I could have gone to Social Services, but I couldn’t bring myself to. As far as I know, he’s never hurt Dawn. Only me. Mom works in an art gallery that would in no way support all three of us if he left. He knows that I can’t ruin their lives. He knows that unless he really hurts me, I’ll never tell.

“So when Anya mentioned the thing about her class, I jumped on it. I had to get out, to go somewhere. I wouldn’t have been able to bear being with him much longer. It was running away.” Her voice was bitter. The dreamlike state she’d been in had vanished, to be replaced with pain that increased with every word she said.

“And that’s it. That’s why when Parker did what he did, I fell apart. I can’t—I try to forget, to tell myself I’m away from it now, but it always comes back, and now...”

She looked up at him. She could feel the tears in her eyes, the weakness she was showing, but right then, she didn’t care. “He asked me to come back with him” she whispered. “Riley did. Said he didn’t understand why I couldn’t just stay in LA...why I’m here in Sunnydale...I couldn’t tell him, but now I’m telling you...”

She couldn’t stop them any longer. Her tears poured out, accompanied by wrenching sobs. Years of pain, bottled up and then released. Loneliness, heartbreak, loss—of what or whom, she didn’t know. All she knew was that she was drowning in it, like she had so many times before.

But then something happened. A pair of arms reached out to her and enveloped her in soothing warmth. Hands touched her hair gently, tentatively, asking permission and gaining it when she burrowed closer to them. A whisper-soft voice soothed her, seeking not to take away the pain but to help her past it, through it.

Telling. It hurt beyond anything she had ever done, all she had ever suffered, but she knew she would survive.

Because for the first time in her life, she wasn’t alone.

*

Spike held her as she cried and tried to soothe her, completely unsure of what he should do.

God. His body tensed with anger as he thought of all she had endured. The second she’d begun he had wanted to stop her, to erase the memories and let her be happy. But he couldn’t. All he could do was listen as she recounted the horror that had been much of her childhood.

What he hadn’t been able to understand was why she had kept it to herself. At first he thought that not telling was a weakness, but then she’d gotten to the part about the mental hospital. She had told, but her cries had gone unnoticed.

He wanted to kill the man. He would kill him, if he ever got his hands on the bastard. I’ll rip his fucking entrails out if he ever comes near her again, . he thought savagely as he ran a hand through her hair.

She’d had to be so strong...he couldn’t help but wonder if she had a martyr complex, the way she refused to tell anyone. How much strength must that have taken, to live day after day with such a secret, dodging her father, putting on a happy face for her mother and sister—he nearly wanted to cry just thinking about it.

And in a way, that was the oddest part of the whole thing. He’d told her the truth when he said that their relationship felt more like friendship than hatred, but at the same time, the whole thing felt unreal. Part of him was right there, soothing a friend while she cried her heart out, but most of him was refusing to acknowledge that this was really happening. It was Buffy, after all. Strong, cold, impersonal, invincible Buffy.

Except now he knew why she was so cold and strong. It was her only defense against her father. Her father . The one man who should have been there for her always had been her greatest enemy, the fear she could never confront, the monster under the bed.

It made him sick.

But he showed none of it. Instead he gently held her. “Shhh,” he soothed, running his hands down her arms. “It’s okay, Buffy. Let it out. No one’s going to hurt you. I’m here. I’ll protect you...”

“You can’t,” she whispered. “He’s there. He’s always been right—there—“ She broke into incoherent sobs again.

“It’ll be all right,” he whispered. “You’re safe from him now. Nothing can hurt you here.”

He would never be sure how long she sat in his arms and cried. All he knew was that after awhile her sobs wound down to sniffles, and then she was calm. For a long moment they sat together, suspended in time. Spike said nothing. Murmuring comforting things in her ear was one thing, but he knew that she had to be the one to speak first after that.

“So...you don’t think I’m completely insane?” she asked finally, wiping her eyes.

He was astonished. “Insane? Buffy, after all you’ve been through, I’m damn surprised you’re as sane as you are! How one person can suffer so much and still be able to act normal is completely beyond me.”

She smiled at him. It was wavering and watery, but it was a smile. “Thank you.”

She had the most beautiful eyes. Had he ever noticed that before? So deep and green a man could drown in them and die happy. The way she was looking at him now, so heartbreakingly open that all he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms again and...

Whoa, mate. Easy on the lust. She just decided she was friends with you, don’t go turning it into something else! He smothered his thoughts and smiled at her. “Anytime, luv. And lemme tell you—‘f you ever want your sodding bastard of a father put in the ground, I’m the one to do it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She sighed and leaned against his arm for a moment before saying, “We have school tomorrow. I should go home...”

“There is no way in hell you’re walkin’ home now, and ‘bout as great a chance that I’d be able to get the car out without Mum noticing. You’re staying here,” he said firmly.

“Staying...where?” She blinked up at him, clearly confused.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “At m’ house, you silly bint!”

“Oh. Are you sure? ‘Cause it was only a few blocks, I can just wa—“

“You’re staying here.” God, she had to be the most stubborn girl he’d ever met! Didn’t know what was good for her, wouldn’t do it even if someone pointed it out—

Because she was too strong. Strong and caring and beautiful. Spike sighed. His thoughts couldn’t say on the straight and narrow, could they?

“Okay, okay. No need to go all protective on me,” she said, eyeing him warily.

“Sorry, luv. Just don’t want you to be takin’ risks after...all that.” He stood up, pulling her along with him, and led her into the house. She clung to his hand like it was a lifeline. He wasn’t at all sure he minded.

They arrived in the living room and he propped a few pillows up on their couch, retrieving a throw blanket and tossing it to her. “Couch isn’t wonderful, but it’ll do,” he said. He walked over to the clock sitting on the mantle and set the clocked for seven A.M. He and Faith had fallen asleep on the couch enough times that they kept an alarm clock down here for such occasions.

“It’s better than cement,” she said cheerily.

He glanced over at her. She was pale and still red from crying, but she was clearly making an attempt to restore normalcy to the situation. Not a bad idea, considering all that had just happened. He decided to play along. “’ll bet it is” he replied with a grin. They stood there for a moment, looking at one another.

This had to stop. Spike cleared his throat loudly. “Right then,” he said. “So, you can just try and get some shuteye, and I’ll be upstairs, doin’ the same.” He headed for the stairs.

“Spike?”

As soon as he heard her voice he stopped and turned round. “Yeah?”

“This is horrible, and rude, and I’m very sorry, but could you maybe stay down here? I mean, you can even have the couch if you want, I’ll take a chair, it’s just I don’t think I can be alone just yet...” she trailed off.

He was staring at her, inwardly berating himself for being such a cad. Of course she wouldn’t want to be left alone after just having poured her heart to him. He couldn’t believe he’d been about to walk upstairs and leave her in the dark.

“I’d be glad to stay down here. Sorry I didn’t think of it before.” He walked back into the living room and surveyed the situation, a frown on his face. He definitely wasn’t going to kick Buffy off the couch, but he didn’t much fancy sitting in a chair all night, either. “Tell you what,” he said, sitting down on the couch, “You lie down an’ put your feet in m’ lap. I’ll be fine like this.”

“I don’t wanna make it so you can’t sleep,” Buffy began, but he cut her off almost immediately.

“It’s not an inconvenience, pet. I’m happy t’ stay down here. Don’t much fancy my bed after a night like this anyway.” He prayed to God she’d just agree. He wasn’t up to arguing with her, not now.

“Um...okay.” She walked over to the couch and shrugged off her robe and slippers. Spike fought to keep his eyes from bugging out. He eventually had to settle with turning his head.

Holy shit, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen! He could almost understand why that wanker Parker had been so reluctant to let her go. She doesn’t deserve that ponce Riley, he thought spitefully. ‘Specially not now, after she’s finally spilled her guts to someone she trusts.

She lay down on the couch, pulling the throw over herself and laying her feet in Spike’s lap. He sighed and leaned back. Riley was a problem for another day. Right now he had a new friend lying right next to him, and he had every intention of enjoying the sensation.

He gently patted her feet. His Buffy, so strong, so brave. He still felt sorry for her, but he was also in awe of her. She’d been through hell and was still whole enough to make friends and strive for a normal life. “You’re a hell of a girl, Buffy,” he whispered.

Or did he? No one responded, and when he listened, he realized that she was asleep. Oh, well. He’d have plenty of time to tell her tomorrow, or maybe the next day. She wasn’t going to try to castrate him every time he opened his mouth now. Hm, that was an interesting prospect.

He rather thought it would be fun, being her friend.

A slight smile graced his lips. He placed his hand on her feet, leaned his head back, and followed Buffy into sleep.

~*~
 

Chapter 8:

Faith crept down the stairs. It was 7 AM, an alarm was going off, and it was making her damn cranky.

She halted in amazement when she saw who resided on the couch. Her twin, as scantily clad as ever, and Buffy Summers!

Wow. Wonder what happened with them? They both looked exhausted...peaceful, but ready to drop. That accounted for the incessant beeping of the alarm. Whoa—had they...?

Nah. Spike she knew would take just about anybody for a ride, but Buffy was the closest thing to a Goddamn Puritan California had. They’d probably just been talking or doing something equally (to Faith, anyway) as boring.

But they had to wake up, before that alarm drove her fucking insane.

“Hey.” She snapped her fingers in front of Buffy’s face. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

*

Buffy’s first impression was of a very loud noise. The next thing that came to her was an obtrusive body very close by. What was going on? This didn’t feel like her bed...

She wiggled her toes, only to find that they were caught in a pretty tight grip. She cracked open and eyeball.

Grinning Faith. Sleeping Spike. Beeping alarm.

Like cold water, realization of all that she’d said last night, all that had happened, came crashing down upon her. For a moment she lay still, waiting for the shame, the agony, the denial to rush in.

Nothing happened.

Instead of feeling too embarrassed to face the person sharing the couch with her, she felt relaxed. Happy. Relieved, even.

“OK, your eyes are open, I know you can hear me. Get your ass off the couch, B!”

And annoyed with Faith. Buffy yawned and sat up, giving the alarm clock a mighty THWAK! as she did. “G’morning,” she said, stretching.

“In whose mind?” Faith retorted. “Hey, did I get drunker than I thought? ‘Cuz, I coulda sworn I dropped you off at your house.”

“Um, yeah, you did,” she said, her cheeks heating up. “I went for a walk, Spike found me, and we talked.”

“You talked.” Was that blatant skepticism in Faith’s voice? Yes, it was. “B, the day I believe that crap—“

“Is today, since she’s tellin’ the truth,” Spike interrupted. He opened his eyes and smiled at Buffy. “Morning, Blondie.”

His voice was soft, almost cautious. Buffy smiled at him to put him at ease. “Morning,” she said.

“Okay, I have no freakin’ idea what’s going on,” Faith announced. Neither of them answered her. She shook her head, muttered something about insanity, and went back upstairs.

“How you feel?” Spike’s question was quiet. She figured he was feeling just as confused as she. They were both talking carefully, trying to feel out what for them was very new ground: friendship.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “Well—not fine, after all that, but I think I’ll be okay. It feels better.” She glanced at him uncertainly, then blew out a sigh of relief when she saw that he was nodding in agreement.

“I’m glad.”

“Be, too. But, um—can you—I mean, what I told you—I’d rather not tell the others right now, if that’s okay,” she finished shyly.

He nodded and stood. “Sure thing, luv. Wasn’t planning on it, anyway. Didn’t seem like something you wanted the whole world to know.”

“It’s not the whole world, exactly, just a few friends,” Buffy argued.

“You tell Anya, and ‘ll be surprised if the bloody National Enquirer doesn’t pick up on the story,” Spike informed her, smirking. “And anyway, you’re nitpicking.”

“Like you aren’t!”

“Relax, Blondie.” To her extreme surprise, he reached out and tugged one of her blonde locks affectionately. “I was just playing around.”

“Me, too.” She smiled up at him, he smiled back, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.

Well, it wasn’t her fault that he was completely gorgeous and—she gulped—only dressed in a pair of boxers. And he was still holding that lock of hair, rubbing it in between his fingers. Who wouldn’t get a little antsy if someone was doing that? Especially since his eyes got so much bluer when he smiled, like someone had turned on a gazillion-watt bulb inside him.

“We should get ready to go,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes from his.

“Yeah. You got clothes?”

“Huh?” He’d taken his hand from her hair. Darn.

“I said, do you have clothes?” He definitely sounded amused. Ooh, she’d have to get him for that...later, when she didn’t just want to jump him.

“Um, no, actually. I guess I’ll have to walk home.” She frowned. Her nightgown wasn’t exactly skimpy, but it would look beyond slutty if she went out in public in it.

“In that ? You’re insane if you think I’m gonna let you do that,” he told her firmly. “Look, you an’ Faith are about the same size, right? Why don’ you borrow some of her clothes?”

“What? Faith’s clothes are totally sl—I mean, not my style,” Buffy finished awkwardly, suddenly remembering that she was conversing with Faith’s twin. “I can’t wear them!”

“Don’t worry about it, B. I’ll find something that’s not too slutty for ya.”

Faith had reappeared and was grinning at the scene before her. Abruptly Buffy realized that she was standing very close to an almost-naked Spike. She cleared her throat and stepped back, “That’d be great, Faith. Thanks.”

“C’mon then.” Buffy hurried to follow Faith up the stairs.

“So, what’s between you and my wonderful brother?” Faith asked as she threw u\open her closet.

“We’re friends,” Buffy said firmly. “That’s all.” ‘Course, she wouldn’t be complaining if it was more than that, but as of now...

“Bull,” Faith accused.

“What do you mean, bull? It’s not bull. It’s very...un bull-ey.”

“Uh-huh.” Faith dug through her closet. Buffy peered in and raised an eyebrow. Not only was it incredibly messy, but she didn’t see a single article of clothing that she’d want to be seen dead in.

“Hey, what about this?” Faith brought out a skimpy sundress. Buffy eyed it warily. Not only was it a color of yellow that she knew would look truly hideous on her, but it would also show just about everything she had in the boob department.

“I don’t think so, Faith.”

“You know, ya really oughta lighten up,” Faith remarked, but she threw the sundress back into the closet. “Hm...what about this?”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. The black jeans and dark green tank top Faith presented her with were more than a little revealing, but they looked more modest, and definitely more ‘Buffy’, than anything else in Faith’s closet. “Looks good. Thanks...and not just for the clothes, also for the whole not freaking out about finding me and Spike sleeping in the vicinity of each other thing. It means a lot to me.” Buffy smiled at her friend.

“No prob. Although I’ll admit, I was a bit wierded out to think that you’d just banged my brother—not that I still think you did,” Faith added, grinning when she saw Buffy’s eyes widen in panic.

“Thank God,” Buffy breathed. “I mean, if word of something like that got back to Riley...” She cringed. She’d been telling the truth last night about what he’d asked her. His proposition scared the life out of her, not just because of the whole thing with her father. She was terrified that when she refused—for she knew she couldn’t accept his offer—that she’d lose him. I can’t let him go, not now...

“He’d break it off with you. I get it,” Faith said. She paused for a moment, seemingly about to say something, before shaking her head and shoving the clothes into Buffy’s hands. “Look, you go get dressed. I’ll make sure brother dear can give you a ride back to Anya’s before school.” She exited quickly.

Buffy watched her leave with a slight frown. Wow, that had been abrupt. Had she said something wrong? No, Faith was just moody that way. Shrugging inwardly, Buffy yanked on her borrowed clothing.

*

Spike was brushing his teeth when Faith entered the bathroom. He rinsed his mouth out and cocked an eyebrow at his sister. “Yeah?”

“Buffy really likes Riley, doesn’t she?”

“I dunno. I sure as hell don’t like the ponce...but that’s just me,” he said with a smirk. “She seemed attached enough to him last night.”

“Yeah, I know. She was worried that I’d go shooting my mouth off about you guys’ little rendezvous. Pissed me off,” Faith said.

Spike could understand that. Riley wasn’t a bad guy, or anything, but he didn’t belong with the group. He was too innocent, too...boring. “Did you tell her our lil secret was safe?”

“Yeah. Don’t know if she believed me or not.” Faith rolled her eyes. “I don’t get why, but everybody treats me like the bad guys around here.”

“’Course, it has nothin’ to do with how you dress or act,” Spike retorted.

“OK, so I’ve got the bad girl image going on. So what?”

“So people judge by appearances,” Spike explained. God knew he’d spent enough time wondering why teachers automatically treated him like he was some kind of convict before he’d even done anything. After he’d done stuff he was fine with them screaming at him, but before? To him that seemed just a bit unjust.

“Anyway, I didn’t come down here to gripe. B needs a ride back to Anya’s to grab her stuff. Can you give it to her?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Great. I’ll go grab her, and you guys can—“ Faith stopped when she turned around to see Buffy standing on the stairs. The blonde smiled hesitantly. “I just finished changing and all that,” she told Faith, “So I figured I’d come on down.”

Spike could barely think. She was wearing what he dimly recognized as his sister’s clothes, but damn, did they look better on her! The black jeans hugged her curves in a way that made his mouth dry. The top, a deep green, accentuated the lighter hazel of her eyes. Her tan skin and golden hair—God, he loved her hair—shone in contrast to the dark clothes.

Faith sent a wicked look Spike’s way. “Well, I’m pretty sure Spike doesn’t mind.”

*

Buffy knew she sure as hell didn’t.

He had no right— no right —to look that good in the morning. She was fairly certain he hadn’t showered, but his hair was all yummy and curly. His shirt was, as usual, black, but he wore that red shirt over it that only accentuated his blue eyes. It was so unfair; she’d seen candy that didn’t look that eatable.

And now he was talking, and his lips were making such nice little shapes, and—Buffy tuned out her lustful thoughts and tried to focus on what her friend— and just your friend, Buffy, you’d better not forget it— was saying.

“No, that’s fine. Want to go get your things, kitten?”

“Um, yeah. What time is it, anyway?”

“Quarter to eight,” Faith supplied. “Which means we go to hell in forty-five minutes.”

“Ugh. Bad, bad thoughts,” Buffy whined as she grabbed her slippers and robe. “Thanks again for the clothes, Faith,” she said.

“No prob, B.” Faith winked. “Feel free to sleep over any time.”

“Faith!”

Faith laughed before shooing them out.

When they were outside, Buffy cast an unsure glance over at Spike. She had no idea how she was supposed to act around him now that they were alone.

Spike grinned at her. “Faith’s such a bitch, isn’t she? Can’t believe she’d m’ sister.”

Buffy’s smile returned. Good; he wasn’t going to treat her any differently. “Well, I can.”

“Oh, shut y’ gob,” he retorted. Buffy laughed as they entered the car.

They retrieved Buffy’s backpack and headed back to the school. Buffy had wanted to run in and change, but Spike stopped her, informing her curtly that she looked fine. Now they were standing on the steps leading into school, waiting for the others to arrive.

“Are you sure I look all right?” Buffy asked, tugging at the shorter-than-usual shirt she wore.

“I already told you, ya look fine,” Spike said grumpily.

“Geez, sorry for asking.” Buffy pouted. She knew she’d asked that question at least three times, but he didn’t have to be so mean.

“’M sorry,” Spike said, “I was just thinkin’...’s gonna be hard to come up with a reasonable explanation for our sudden reconciliation.”

“Umm...” Buffy furrowed her brow. She hadn’t thought of that. “Just tell them you saw me walking and we talked, and decided that maybe we should stop making with the fighting anymore. They’ll probably be so glad we don’t hate each other that they won’t question us too much.”

“Let’s hope so,” Spike responded.

Silence once again took over between them. Buffy let out an irritated sigh. Come on, Willow, get here already! “So, who was that poem about?” she asked without thinking.

“What?”

He was startled. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t asked. A muscle in his chin was twitching. He seemed very, very angry. “Sorry. That was stupid. I’ll just—“

“ Which...poem? ” Now she was really nervous. He sounded ready to kill someone.

“The one Giles read to us,” she said hurriedly. “I just asked ‘cause he really liked it, we spent like the whole week studying it, and I’m sorry I asked if it’s a delicate—matter...” she trailed off.

Spike took pity on her. Poor bird looked ready to pass out from fear. “Relax, Goldilocks, it’s just a touchy subject is all,” he said. “I’m not gonna bite you.” He sighed, closed his eyes briefly, and continued: “Dunno if you’ve heard of my ex, Dru?”

“You went out with a guy?”

He at least rolled his eyes at that. “No, you silly bint. ‘S short for Drusilla. I went out with her for three years, from eighth grade to the end of the summer after tenth. We broke up three months ago, right b’fore the start of school. I caught her snogging that prat Angel. Wrote the poem after that, once she’d dumped me. Poetry contest came around, an’ I figured, ‘sod it’, an’ sent it in. Didn’t reckon it’d get published, but it did.”

Buffy had stayed quiet, looking down. He’d told his story in the same kind of clinical, detached voice she’d attempted to use when describing her experiences back in LA. “She really hurt you.”

“Well, yeah. Y’ go out with a girl for three years, blatant betrayal kinda hurts,” he said in a ‘no duh’ kind of voice.

All of a sudden, Buffy was tired of the drama. Yeah, she and Spike were now friends, and they’d shared some pretty sucky secrets, but that was no need for gloom and doom, right?

Buffy smiled up at him. “I’m sorry. But hey, at least all your friends sided with you, right?”

He smiled down at her, recognizing her sudden mood change for what it was and—as she’d hoped—not thinking it was a blow-off. “Right you are.”

“Hey, guys!”

“Willow!” Buffy embraced her friend. About time, she thought, but didn’t say anything.

“Wow. Buffy and Spike, alone? Where’d all the body parts go?” Xander asked. He made a big show of peering into the bushes.

“Maybe they burned them,” Oz suggested.

Buffy made a face at them. “Very funny. Spike and I have reconciled.”

“That’s it,” Xander announced. “The Apocalypse hath cometh. The world is ending...eth.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Buffy punched him on the shoulder. “Oh, and by funny, I mean lame.”

“You’re serious, though? You and Spike are really...well...not mortal enemies anymore?” Willow looked hopeful.

“What can I say? We’re going for a hippy, love-not-war kinda thing,” Buffy said. “Oh, hey, Anya,” she added, greeting her old friend with a smile.

“Hey. It’s make love not war, by the way,” Anya informed her. “And you weren’t at the house this morning. Were you and Spike out having orgasms? I can see that you’re wearing Faith’s clothes.”

“What? Sodding hell, nothing happened!” Spike exclaimed.

Anya turned to Willow, Oz, and Xander. “Notice how emphatically he is speaking. It’s denial. Any moment now they’ll both start to blush. See? There they go.” Buffy and Spike were both a truly impressive hue of crimson.

“Hey!” Cordelia joined their group. “What did I miss?”

“Buffy slept with Spike. We think,” Willow said, a confused look on her face.

“What?! I so did not! Well, okay, I did,” Buffy said with a frown, “But we totally just slept. And talked. That’s all!”

Cordelia was looking at her like she had three heads. “You slept with bleach-boy? Eeeew!” She looked over at Spike. “No offense.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Right.”

“Hey! Focus please!” Buffy snapped her fingers in front of Cordelia’s face. “There was no sleeping together!”

“Wait...I thought you said there was.” Oz’s brow was furled.

“Bloody hell,” Spike muttered, before saying, “There was no shagging. We talked, we slept on the couch, and that’s it. Ask Faith ‘f you don’t believe us.”

“Relax, I didn’t actually think you two had orgasms together. I really, really hope you both are smart enough to realize that the day that happens really will be the day of the Apocalypse, seeing as how you’re complete opposites and all,” Anya said.

“Trust me when I say I know,” Buffy said fervently. She was relieved that all the teasing was over with. “Speaking of last night,” she added with a grin, “How’d it go, Anya?”

Anya shot a glance over at Xander. He was engaged in a conversation with Oz and Spike, so she said with a grin, “I thought I was going to have to hold him up just so he’d make a pass at me, but—“

The bell rang and they all groaned simultaneously. Where’s Faith? Buffy wondered as they walked into the building.

“Meet me after third and I’ll tell you the rest,” Anya said. “There’s even orgasms—well, almost.”

Buffy shook her head. All worries about Faith vanished from it, to be replaced with very disturbing images.

“Um, that’s nice, Anya,” Willow said, making an honest effort to be diplomatic. It failed, since her nose was wrinkled in such a way that it was obvious she was severely grossed out.

Cordelia squealed. “Double ew, Anya! TMI!”

“Oh, please,” Anya shot back. “I didn’t even tell you about the kissing yet. Did you know you can stick your tongue in—“

Buffy was still laughing when she and Willow went to first period.
 

Chapter 9:

Anya, Buffy, Willow, and Cordelia met in the second floor bathroom right after third period. They had ten minutes before going to fourth. “So, tell us what happened, Anya!” Willow said, wide-eyed.

“Well, like I said, he was being a complete gentleman and it was driving me insane. I mean, honestly, what does it take to get a guy to kiss you? I was seriously thinking that I’d have to get a gun and corner him or something.”

“That is so like Xander,” Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. “I always had to make the first move.”

Anya stared at the brunette. “Yes, and you’d better never make any moves at him. Ever. Got it?”

“Hey, chill,” Cordelia said. “I was just saying...”

“Um, guys? Limited time before me and Buffy have to go see the bitch-monster of death,” Willow reminded them. “Can we get back to the story?”

“I didn’t hold him up. I jumped him,” Anya said bluntly. “Then we went back to his house and had lots and lots of orgasms.”

Buffy made a face. Ew. She really didn’t want to think about Anya and Xander doing the nasty. “I thought you said you guys didn’t...”

“Oh, we didn’t have sex,” Anya assured her. “There are lots of other ways to have orgasms.”

“So, are you and Xander a couple now?”

Buffy was surprised; Willow seemed a lot less freaked out than she’d thought. But then, she and Oz had probably--ugh! so not going there...

“I think so. He seems to worship the ground I walk on, which is a start,” Anya said thoughtfully.

Buffy smiled indulgently. She was about to ask a question when the bell rang. “Damn. Here we go,” she said to Willow.

“Ugh. You know a class is bad when even the school’s biggest nerd doesn’t want to go,” Willow said as she grabbed her backpack.

“Tell me about it,” Buffy groaned.

“Hey, you’ll get to see Spike,” Willow said, slightly more cheerfully. “Try on that brand-spanking new friendship of yours.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said with a happy smile. “That should be fun.”

“Well, let’s go then. Guess we can’t put it off,” Willow said. The four girls exited the bathroom and headed for class.

*

“So I’m thinking hey, she seems, you know, willing,” Xander said. “And I was going to grab her and plant one on her, like you said—“ he nodded to Spike—“But then she jumps me !”

“Told you she would, mate.” Spike smirked. “Just had to give it a little time, is all.”

“Yeah, I think it’s the first time you’ve been right.” Xander ducked behind a booshelf as Spike aimed a whack at him. “Hey!”

“Guys, the librarian looks ready to kick up out,” Oz said quietly.

“Bloody hell,” Spike groaned. “Why is it that when birds go into the bathroom to giggle no one thinks anything of it, but ‘f more than one guy goes into the bathroom at a time we get called gay?”

“No idea,” said Xander.

“Maybe it’s because we yank our dicks out for everyone to see,” Spike said thoughtfully.

“And to think, this is the most philosophical conversation we’ve ever had.”

“Damn right,” Spike said as the bell overhead rang. “Bloody hell,” he swore again. “Time for Psychology wi’ the psycho doctor.”

“I laugh at your pain,” Xander said.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” Spike said sarcastically. Funny how the biggest thought in his mind wasn’t about that bitch Dr. Walsh. All he could think about was a certain blonde and those tight jeans she was wearing...

Licentious thoughts intact the three boys went to class.

*

Buffy’s eyes found Spike the second he entered the room. She bit her lip. He was so graceful and hot and damn it would be so much easier to concentrate on the whole ‘we’re-just-friends’ thing if he didn’t make just sitting down in a chair look like the sexiest thing a guy could do!

“Hey, Spike.” She gave him an uncertain smile.

He grinned back at her. “How’s m’ favorite blonde?”

“Oh-so-happy and of course looking forward to this class,” Buffy replied with a saccharine-sweet smile.

Spike’s grin widened. “We’re one ‘f a kind, kitten.”

“Does that mean I get two argumentative, arrogant teenagers in my class?” Dr. Walsh had once again suck up on them.

Buffy shrank down in her seat, eyes innocently wide. “No, Dr. Walsh. Not at all. I’m trying to reform Spike.”

Walsh cocked a suspicious eyebrow. Buffy fought to keep the smile on her face and a grimace off. “I see,” the teacher said dryly. The tardy bell rang and she moved to the front of the class.

“Nice save, luv,” Spike said under his breath.

“Thanks,” Buffy whispered back as their bitch-teacher began her lecture.

“Now, today we are going to study Freud and his effect on 1920’s society—yes, Spike?”

Buffy sighed. It was going to be a long class...

Her head was spinning by the time she got to English. Willow glanced over at her sympathetically. “Tired?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Buffy sat down and cradled her head in her hands. “And now I’m hungry, too. What the hell was that stuff they were serving, anyway?”

“I have no idea,” Willow said, wrinkling her nose when she remembered the mushy green stuff they’d been calling ‘spinach chicken surprise.’ “Whatever it was, big ew.”

“Hello, class,” Giles said as he entered the room. “Please take your seats. I’ve got some fun stuff in store for you lot today!”

Buffy arched an eyebrow at her. “Who made him all happy?”

“Starts with a J, ends with an –enny,” Willow sang.

“Omigod! Spike’s mom hooked up with Giles? ”

“Well, not hooked up. But I heard that they kinda were seen together Saturday,” Willow said. “Spike told me.”

“And he didn’t tell me? I am so gonna kill him...” Buffy narrowed her eyes.

“And we’re back to the killing.” Willow shook her head. “I swear, you guys are insane.”

“Don’t I know it.” Buffy settled back into her seat and tuned in to what the teacher was saying.

“For the past week I’ve been having you read examples of all kind of poetry, from haiku to free verse, from Byron to your fellow Sunnydale High students. today, we’re going to try something a little different.”

Buffy suddenly got an inkling of what that ‘little something’ might be. “Oh, no...” she whispered, right before Giles burst out with—

“Class, starting today, every single one of you is going to become a poet!”

Stunned silence met his announcement. Taking it as assent, he beamed and continued, “And, if everyone in this class takes to it the way I suspect they will, in two months’ time we will have a poetry reading in the cafeteria, with friends and family invited!”

“Someone, just kill me now,” she whispered under her breath. She liked martial arts, cheerleading, and occasionally painting, but she was not not not the poetry type.

“Now, I will be teaching you how to write all manner of poems, but today I want you to construct something of your own. Please just jot down whatever comes to mind. It doesn’t have to be perfect. I just want to be able to assess your strengths and weaknesses. So, have at it!”

Buffy watched, amused, as the teacher raced over to his desk and immediately began scribbling on what looked suspiciously like a lesson plan book. Someone didn’t get much done over the weekend, she thought as she turned her attention to the blank sheet of paper in front of her.

But try as she might, words wouldn’t come. All that she could think of was Spike’s face. When she looked down at the paper, his eyes swam in her vision. She scowled. This was not working.

‘Whatever comes to mind,’ Giles had said. What did come to mind? She wasn’t sure. All she could really think about was the night before, and...

Without her even consciously realizing it, her pen began to move.

She wrote without even stopping to consider her subject. She would have thought that after her friend making thing with Spike that she’d be all into the happy poems, but all she could think about was her problems last night. Somehow, they made way better poem material than she and Spike’s new friendship.

When she was finished, she stopped and surveyed the poem with a critical eye. Did it suck or rock? She couldn’t tell. The poem said :

The night is dark: the stars are dim
The world is stark, cold, grim;
No moon sheds light on truth in shadows
No warmth softens hidden sorrows.
The night is dark: predator hunts prey
Softly, the hunted scurries away
With nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide
They are forced to confront their fears inside.

The sun is bright: the stars are pale
Truth hides behind a hidden veil
And though all roam without fear
Veiled truth brings danger near.
The sun is bright: mystery hides
In a shroud of Truth, concealing lies
Shadow on shadow darkens the ground
Though all is illuminated, truth cannot be found.

The night is dark; the sun is bright
Truth is found in cool night
For though many trust the day
In bright, harsh light, Truth runs away.

Before she had time to revise it, the bell rang. Darn. She was pretty sure it sucked. Whichever way you looked at it, that was not her style. All symbolic and conceited-sounding—Giles would think her head had swollen over the weekend!

But now Giles was asking for everyone’s poems. Buffy sighed heavily. Oh, well. She’d have to turn it in. Dragging her feet, she grabbed her stuff and walked to the front of the room. She handed him his poem, hoping he wouldn’t wig out over it. Maybe he’d figure she was just being bad-moody and leave it at that.

No such luck. He scanned her poem, frowned, scanned it again, and then said, “Buffy, can I talk to you?”

By now all the students had filed out of the room. Buffy knew she’d be tardy if she stayed, but who really wanted to go to Algebra II, anyway? “Um, sure. Shoot.”

“Well, it’s just that your poem is definitely one of the most complete that’s been turned in so far,” he said. “I’d like to talk to you about it. Perhaps you’d like to organize the poetry reading?”

She was pretty sure her eyes were about to fall out of her head, they were bugging that much. “Uh, Giles? I’m not really the poetry type. Actually, I really don’t like writing at all. Buffy and poetry, it’s like Whitney and Bobby. Bad things happen when they join up.”

Giles held up her poem. “’In bright, harsh light, Truth runs away,’” he read. “Buffy you wrote that in forty minutes. I’d kill to see what you could do given a few days and a little more encouragement. You could really go places.”

She was desperate to leave. Pretty much the entire next period was in the room, and they were all staring at her curiously. “Tell ya what, Giles. I’ll see you after school, and we can discuss this whole poetry-reading thing, okay? Right now I gotta get to math.”

Giles gave her a hard look, and she was all of a sudden reminded of that first day, when he’d kicked Kennedy out of the classroom. “You’re not going to manage to avoid talking to me, Buffy.”

“I know.” She tried for a smile, and failed utterly. Damn teachers who could practically read minds! “I’ll see you after school.”

“Yes. You will.”

And why, Buffy wondered as she walked out of the door, couldn’t he have made it sound a little less like a threat?

The rest of the school day went by much quicker than she liked. Almost before she knew it, the final bell had rung and she was telling Anya not to wait up, she had to talk to Mr. Giles.

“Oh, well in that case I’m definitely not going to wait,” her ever-faithful friend replied. “Mr. Giles is very militant for such a small British man. It’s very disconcerting.”

“Uh-huh, my thoughts exactly,” Buffy said.

“Well, I’ll see what’s left of you later.”

“You too, Anya.” Buffy watched Anya walk away with a slight smile on her face. This wasn’t the first time she’d suspected Anya was so blunt on purpose, just to cheer her up.

She walked ve-e-e-ery slowly to Giles’ classroom. Really, really not looking forward to telling the ‘small, disconcerting British man’ that there is no way on earth I’m going to host a poetry reading for him...

Giles looked up from his desk and smiled at her when she entered. “Ah, Buffy. So nice of you to come.”

“That’s me,” Buffy said with a cheery smile she definitely wasn’t feeling, “Niceness is my middle name.”

“Good,” Giles said. “Then you’ll agree to host the reading.”

Buffy opened her mouth, the words, ‘thanks, but not if you told me my other option was to burn in hell for the rest of eternity’ on her lips, but her teachers held up a hand.

“Wait. I read what you wrote, Buffy, and considering the time frame and setting you wrote it in, it’s excellent stuff. You write more clearly and feelingly than most of your peers will ever be able to write. I’d really love it if you could do this for me.”

Buffy felt herself relenting. Damn stupid British men! He was buttering her up, with all that stuff about her poem, and she knew it, but she still couldn’t tell him no. “Um, sure,” she heard herself saying. Stupid, stupid, stupid Buffy...

Giles beamed like a kid at Christmas. “Excellent! I’ll give you the necessary information tomorrow. Thank you so much, Buffy!”

She gave him a weak smile. “No problem. See you tomorrow, Giles.” I am such a pushover!

“Yes, yes. I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”

As soon as the word left his mouth Buffy practically flew out of the room. Damn, she was an idiot! “I am such a pu—whoa!”

She ran headlong into someone walking out of the computer lab. A very tall someone, with extremely nice arm muscles...not to mention a chest that was like rock. “Oh, hi, Spike!” No lustful thoughts. No lustful thoughts. Ooh, naked Spike in a rolley chair... no, bad Buffy!

“Hey, Buffy. Where ya off to?”

“Actually, I’m getting ready to go home.”

“Wanna ride? ‘M going to my house.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.” Buffy smiled at him and they started to walk toward the student parking lot.

“So, why were you here after hours? You don’t seem like the type to hang around school just for the fun of it.”

Buffy laughed. “Not so much. I wrote a poem in English. Giles went ga-ga over it. He wants me to be the host of the poetry reading.”

Spike groaned. “You’re kidding.”

“You’ve heard about it?”

“Heard about it? I hosted the sodding thing last year!” He glanced over at her. “Hey, you didn’t tell me you wrote poetry.”

“I didn’t—well, not until today,” she amended. “Apparently, now I do.”

“’D hate to be you right now, kitten.”

“I hate to be me, too, so we’re even,” Buffy replied, trying to ignore the shivers that went up her spine when he called her ‘kitten’. God, he was so sexy!

“So...” Spike said as he unlocked the car door and held it open for her to slide in, “What are you planning on doing about Riley?” He walked round the car and got in the driver’s seat.

Buffy shrugged. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

“Have you told him you’re not going back yet?” Spike asked as he drove out of the school parking lot.

“Um, no. Not exactly.”

Spike made a noise of disapproval. “You should, y’know. He’s not gonna sit around an’ wait forever, and since you already know what you’re gonna say...”

“Look, I’m not saying I think I should wait to tell him. I haven’t really had time to. We only talked about it last night,” Buffy pointed out. She was starting to feel a little irritated with him.

“Well, I’m sorry, Miss High N’ Mighty. Remind me not to ask.” Spike sped up slightly.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Buffy would have laughed at how childish they were being, except it really wasn’t all that funny. Actually, she was mad. Very, very...mad. And horny. No! Mad. That was all.

“We’re here,” Spike said a few very awkward moments later. Buffy grabbed her bag and hopped out of the car.

“Thanks,” she said woodenly.

“Don’t bloody mention it.” His tone was as expressionless as hers.

She walked up to the door and tried the knob. It didn’t move. What? Had Anya left the house? And she didn’t have her key yet, either. Dammit! Her mind finally registered the fact that there was no car but the DeSoto in the drive. Abso-fucking-lutely wonderful.

“What’s wrong?” Spike yelled from the car. “Door won’t open?”

“Apparently Anya thought I’d be at school for a longer amount of time. The door’s locked,” Buffy called back.

Spike made what sounded like a frustrated growl. “Get in.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe her ears. Who the hell did he think he was, ordering her around like that?

“I said, get in!”

Aside from a strong, hot British guy, of course. Buffy caved and got back in the car. “So, where are we going?”

“My house. Where else? You can hang about there till Anya gets her ass back home.”

“Thanks again.” Buffy glanced sideways at him. God, she was about to apologize. She was a stinking doormat. She’d told niceness was her middle name. Yep, that was her. Miss Buffy I’ll-do-anything-just-please-don’t-be-mad-at-me Summers. “Sorry.”

He looked over at her, clearly surprised. “’S all right. To tell the truth, I was expectin’ something like this. Didn’t think we could make it through a whole day without havin’ some kind of tiff.”

“You were right.” They pulled into his driveway and he cut the ignition. Buffy frowned and leaned down to grab her bag. Darn it, the stupid thing had caught on a metal bar.

Before she even really realized what was happening, Spike got out of the car and walked over to her side. He opened the door for her.

She wrenched her bag free and stood up, all of a sudden very conscious of precisely what she was wearing. Tight jeans and a skimpy top. And now she was going into Spike’s house, where they would be alone. She swallowed. Oh, boy, she thought as she walked past him...

And her breast brushed against his arm. Just ever so slightly, but they both stiffened. Blue eyes met and held shocked hazel as they both absorbed the electricity that seemed to shoot through their bodies where they touched. Holy shit! Buffy thought as the electricity raced down her body and created a pool of wetness at the apex of her thighs.

Apparently something similar was happening to Spike, since he grabbed both her arms and pinned her against the car. Hardness brushed her thigh and belly. His face neared hers.

He was breathing hard, she noted dimly. His lips were so close she could feel his breath. An inferno was growing inside her, getting ready to explode, if only his lips would touch hers.

But then she remembered their argument, and what it had been over. She stiffened, ever so slightly, but not in pleasure.

There are times in life when decisions have to be made. You can prepare for them all you like, but when the time comes to actually decide, what you choose is decided quickly, like lightning. And at that moment, Buffy made a decision.

“Spike?” she whispered. God, she could almost feel his lips touching hers, they were that close. She needed that, but first...

“Yeah, luv?”

“Can I use your phone?”
 

Chapter 10:

“Uh, sure. Here, let’s get inside.” Spike was completely mystified and more than a little horny, but he wasn’t about to play the prat and deny her the use of his phone.

He followed Buffy closely as she walked into his house. She bent down and placed her backpack in his foyer.

A moment ago he would have thought it was impossible, but his groin tightened even more. Her ass was so tight, so perfect... He was already almost unbearably hard as a result of her breast bumping against his arm. God, did she even feel that? What kind of girl does that to a man then asks to use the phone? She’s a bloody sadist!

She went straight into his kitchen. As she picked up the phone, he saw that her hands were trembling. Who was she planning on calling? Was she going to...he went cold when he remembered their conversation in the car. Surely she couldn’t possibly...

“Hello, Mrs. Finn. Can I speak to Riley?”

She was! Spike debated on whether he should do a victory dance or just gloat. He settled on the latter. He smirked as he leaned up against the doorframe, running his eyes up and down her figure. If just the side of her breast was that soft, that full...

There was never a time when he’d been more glad for his voluminous duster.

“Riley?” Buffy was saying into the phone. “I need to talk to you. No, it can’t wait. It’s very important...yes, okay.” Pause. “You’re back on? Good. Listen, some stuff has been happening, and I’ve decided it would be better to stay in Sunnydale. No, I can’t... you’ll what ? Riley, are you insane? Well, I won’t allow that...damn right, I’m not kidding. What—“ Suddenly Buffy’s voice changed. Spike shot bolt upright. Before she’d been a bit dismayed but not overly distressed. Now her voice was high, almost hysterical, and she gripped the table in front of her tightly.

“Luv? you all right?” Spike’s voice was decidedly strained. Buffy looked worse than he’d seen her since she’d told him about her father.

She waved a hand at him. He ignored the dismissal and walked over to her. Erection notwithstanding, he wrapped his arms around her waist, almost groaning at the feeling that shot through him when he felt her bottom press against him. He refrained—barely—from tightening his embrace. He was trying to comfort her, not seduce her. That came later.

“How much?” she said, voice low. Silence reigned on the other end of the line. “How much, Riley,” she repeated, raising her voice.

Spike could feel her tense up. It was a testament to how distracted she was that she barely even reacted to his embrace.

“Sorry, Riley, but he’s tried things like this before. This isn’t about you, is it. It’s about my father. He’s paying you to get me to come back.”

Spike froze at that last sentence. That bastard! Lying, rat-ass sucking, sheep-shit fucker! Fury danced before his eyes. No one got to play with his Buffy that way, even—especially—not her supposed boyfriend.

Boyfriend, my ass. This ends now. He seized the phone from her. Ignoring her cries of protest, he brought the receiver to his ear and said coldly, “It’s over, you wanker. If you or her father ever tries to make her come back, ever again, I’ll see to it that you’re ripped to shreds and your bodies are put where they’ll never be found. Understood?”

Complete, utter silence. Then: “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry, sir. Tell Buffy—“

“Yeah?” Spike made his voice as menacing as possible.

“Tell Buffy it’s over. For good.”

Buffy had stilled some minutes ago, and now she collapsed into his arms, sobbing silently. She’d obviously heard every word. “Right. Got it,” Spike snarled into the phone. He slammed it down and immediately turned his attention to the girl next to him.

“Buffy, kitten, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered.

“N—no, it’s n-not,” she sobbed. “He only wanted me back because D-Dad told him to!”

“Shhh,” he whispered, rubbing his arms up and down her soothingly. He really wasn’t sure how to comfort her, but he led her over to the couch. They sat down, with her half in his lap. “He’s a wanker to do that to you,” he said. “You’re a wonderful person, Buffy. If he can’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “You really think that?”

He stared back into them unwaveringly. God, she was so wonderful. Riley was such a ponce for letting her go. “With all my heart,” he said softly.

Later, he wasn’t sure why he did it, or even if he should have. Maybe it was because her scent was floating around him, all vanilla and flowers. Maybe it was because her hair looked so smooth, or her eyes, filled with grief, were so beautiful. Maybe it was because for him, friendship just wasn’t enough.

Whatever the reason, almost as soon as the words left his lips, he leaned down and kissed her.

It was meant to be a comforting kiss, to help stop her tears. But as soon as their lips touched, fire shot through him. He brought his lips down harder, once, twice, before covering her mouth completely.

Her moan, part shock and part pleasure, only drove him madder. Without even stopping to wonder what the hell he was doing, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. His embrace tightened when she responded enthusiastically. He shifted her so that she was pressed into the couch by his chest. God, she was so soft, so smooth, so bloody perfect.

*

Buffy was in heaven. Soft Spike lips against hers, hard Spike arms around her, hard Spike...well, spike pressed against her belly...Buffy giggled against the kiss, breaking the romantic spell that held them both.

He leaned back slightly. “Something funny, pet?” he asked.

She only grinned wider. Pet. Kitten. Goldilocks. Blondie. Luv. He had a million nicknames for her, and she loved them all. “Just...um, you’re really rising to the occasion, aren’t you?”

Spike looked down and groaned. “Bloody hell...sorry,” he apologized as he shifted off of her.

The smile slipped from her face. “You don’t have to apologize,” she whispered. Did he think he’d done something wrong? Yeah, it was kind of unexpected, but she’d sure enjoyed it. Oh, God, what if her breath stank? “Did I do something wrong?”

He looked over at her, taking in her distressed expression and troubled eyes. “God, no, Buffy! It’s just...bugger. You just got done breakin’ up with your boyfriend. I feel like the biggest wanker in the world ‘cuz I took advantage of that.”

Okay. Enough was enough. “You didn’t take advantage of a damn thing!” she cried. “I let you kiss me! Shit, I kissed you back!”

“Yeah, but I’m the guy in this relationship. ‘S my job to—“

“Your job to what?” Buffy said, lowering her voice dangerously, and leaning forward.

He blinked at her. Abruptly she realized that she was only a few inches from him. He apparently realized that, too, since a second later she found herself being grabbed and kissed breathless. “My job t’ ravish you, apparently,” he growled, pulling her firmly into his lap. She wriggled, pushing her bottom into his erection. He groaned and pulled away from the kiss. “Soddin’ hell, Buffy—“ he moaned as he began to press kisses into her neck.

“Oh. My. God. I so just won a bet!”

They sprang apart at the new voice. Cordelia was standing only a few feet away from the couch. Behind her were Oz, Willow, Anya, Xander and Faith.

“Oops.” Spike grinned and squeezed Buffy’s waist. “Looks like we got caught, luv.”

“Damn, that’s nasty. I’m never sitting on that couch again,” Faith remarked. “Can’t you two screw upstairs?”

“Hey,” Buffy protested, trying to ignore her raging lust, “We were not screwing! There was absolutely no screwing going on!”

“Well, Buffy, you guys did look kinda...um...intimate,” Willow said.

“We were snoggin’. Tha’s all,” Spike informed the group.

“Sure...” Xander said, snickering.

“Oh, cut it out, guys,” Anya ordered them. “Buffy, we knew this was going to happen. We had a bet going on about when you’d finally just go at it. Cordelia won. I’m very disappointed. If you’d kept your hand off each other for three more days, I’d be getting money, not losing it.”

Faith laughed. “Congrats, B. Treat my brother right.”

“I plan on it,” Buffy said, smiling briefly at Spike. Their sudden attraction was a little surprising—her brain was still trying to absorb the whole Riley breakage thing—but it felt very right. Admit it, Buffy, she thought, grinning internally, you wanted to do that since the first time you saw him.

“Yeah, about that,” Spike said. “Buffy, can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” she said. Her grin turned to a frown. She could have sworn he said he didn’t regret it. What was up with all the seriousness? And since when did he call her by her real name?

“Out in the kitchen,” he said, standing up and practically running from the group in the room.

“Um—‘scuze me,” she said to her highly amused group of friends.

She joined him in the kitchen. “Yeah?” she asked.

“What is this?” He echoed her question from a night ago.

She frowned. “Well, I coulda sworn we were friends, but last time I checked, friends don’t stick their tongues in other friend’s mouths. So you tell me: what are we?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. She wasn’t exactly mad, but she was definitely feeling defensive. She’d always thought that kissing Spike would be yummy. The reality of it exceeded her expectations enough that she really wanted it to be a regular kind of thing.

“I don’t—bugger.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it spring into curls all over his head. “I don’t want t’ be the rebound, guy, kitten. I want to be the one you stay with—at least for awhile.”

She caught her breath as she looked up at him. How much had that admission cost him? The look in his eyes was so open, so naked...she smiled at him. “I want that, too,” she told him softly.

He smiled back. It was a soft, tremulous smile, so incredibly unlike anything she’d ever before seen that she went up on her toes and kissed him softly. “You’re not going to be rebound-boy,” she told him firmly. “Got it?”

“Got it.” Spike returned the kiss, catching her lower lip in his own and sucking on it slightly. Buffy gasped. God, he was a good kisser!

“Okay, that was just gross, Buffster,” Xander said from the doorway.

For the second time in ten minutes, the newly formed couple broke apart. Buffy smiled apologetically. “Sorry,” she said, but she kept her hand on Spike’s chest.

“It’s okay,” Willow said. “Hey, how does going to the Bronze sound? Now that we’re all couples and everything.”

“Hey,” Cordelia said, “Some of us are still single here!”

“Ten bucks says you’ll pick up somebody within five minutes of walkin’ in the door,” Spike shot back. “You’re that kind of bird.”

“Thanks, Spike. Coming from you, that makes me feel like a complete floozy.”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

As Spike and Cordelia continued to bicker, Buffy grinned at Willow. “I’ll grab my coat,” she said, walking back out into the living room.

Willow followed. “I can’t believe you’re dating Spike!” she squealed. “Oh—what about Riley? ‘Cause, dating two guys at once? Not so great.”

“Relax,” Buffy said. “I broke up with Riley. Just a few minutes ago, actually.”

“Oh.” Willow’s face fell. “So is Spike—“

“A rebound?” Buffy supplied. “That’s what he asked me. No, he’s not a rebound. Riley was...Riley issued me an ultimatum. He said I had to come back, or it was over. So, I told him—actually, Spike told him—to forget the whole fucking thing.”

Her voice cracked slightly, but she determinedly ignored it. She didn’t want pity, not from Willow or anyone else. She wasn’t with Riley anymore, she was with Spike. And despite his almost uncountable shortcomings, he was a great guy, and she didn’t want to dwell on what a huge mistake Riley had been.

“Good, then. It’s all good.” Willow put on her best there-is-no-way-you’re-going-to-guess-what-I’m-thinking look and called, “Guys! C’mon, let’s go! We’ve got school tomorrow!”

A chorus of groans met her announcement as the rest of the gang emerged from the kitchen. “You gotta sound so excited about it?” Faith asked. “School sucks ass.”

“I happen to like it,” Willow said, turning her nose up.

“Yeah,” Oz said. “I like it so much, I’m thinking of coming back next year.”

Willow frowned at him. “But you’re a senior!”

“Who’s probably not gonna pass most of his classes,” Oz reminded her. At her stricken look, he added, “But relax. I’ll find some way to make it work.”

The others exchanged unnerved glances. That was the closest thing to a fight they’d ever witnessed between Willow and Oz. Even Buffy, the newest member of the group, was worried that there might be trouble in paradise. Please let everything be okay, she thought as she and Spike drove toward the Bronze. I don’t want them to be sad, not now, when things are finally starting to work out.

“Something on your mind, kitten? You usually talk m’ ear off.”

Buffy smiled at him. “Yeah. It’s just...Willow and Oz. That’s not normal for them, is it?”

Spike frowned. God, he was even sexy when he frowned. Buffy’s worry lessened slightly. And he was all hers.

“Well, that’s a hard question t’ answer. Nothing’s normal for Red and Oz. But yeah, that was out of the ordinary for them.”

“You think they’re gonna be okay?” Buffy worried her lip between her teeth. “I want everyone to get a happy ending, like us.”

“You think this is an ending?” Spike pulled into a parking spot and squeezed her thigh. She shivered. A girl could really get used to this!

“Baby,” he promised, staring into her eyes, “We’ve just got started.”

~*~

True to Spike’s guess, Cordelia managed to find a football player to keep her entertained for a few hours. Willow and Oz seemed back on an even keel, Buffy and Spike were managing to avoid even the smallest fights, and Anya and Xander were in new-couple heaven. Even Faith had toned down her slutiness.

In short, things were pretty much perfect.

So really, Buffy should have seen it coming. Perfect life: check. Incoming disaster...

Arrived the very next day.

It started in Psych. Spike and Buffy were sitting next to each other, arguing about dreams. “All I’m saying is, a big number of people who have deja-vu say that they remember dreaming whatever they’re deja-vuing about,” Buffy said. “So maybe—“

“You’re speculatin’,” Spike interjected. “You’re not allowed to speculate during an argument.”

“Why not? And the whole point of an argument is that there aren’t any rules.”

“No,” he corrected. “That’s the whole point of a fight. The whole point of an argument. is to prove the other person wrong.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you, Mr. Calendar?” Dr. Walsh had arrived. “Perhaps you should listen to Miss Summers, here, and keep your mouth shut during my class.” Her heels clicked as she walked back up to the front.

Spike settled back into his seat, with what he probably thought was an intimidating scowl on his face. Actually, Buffy thought it was beyond cute. Her Spike was pouting...

She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. “I like it when you open your mouth,” she informed him flirtatiously.

“Do you, now,” he said, and leaned in to kiss her again.

“A-hem. Class, take your seats and get your lips off of one another.” Dr. Walsh, sounding more like a drill sergeant than a teacher, interrupted them. They moved apart, smiling a bit sheepishly.

Buffy’s smile disappeared when she realized that Willow was nowhere to be seen. Had she gotten sick? She’d come to school that morning...oh God, she wasn’t skipping, was she? Buffy stifled a laugh at the thought of dependable old Wills skipping class to go smoke a joint.

Still, something was wrong. I wish I knew where she was. Well, she’d see her friend at lunch. That would have to be good enough. There was no way Walsh would let her out of class, even if she said she had to go to the bathroom.

A note made its way onto her desk. What’s wrong? She recognized Spike’s scrawl.

Where’s Willow? she wrote back. When Walsh had her back turned, she laid it on Spike’s desk.

He looked around the room, raising his eyebrows when he noted the absence of their red-headed friend. A moment later, the note landed on Buffy’s desk. Dunno. She and Oz have it out that you know of?

Not that I heard. They seemed pretty— Buffy’s writing was interrupted when Dr. Walsh strode over to her and snatched the paper out of her hands.

“There will be no note-passing in my class. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’m.” Walsh walked back up to the front.

“You unholy bitch,” Buffy added to herself.

She and Spike both sat back in their seats, identical scowls on their faces.

“God, what do you think’s happened with them?” Buffy said as soon as the dismissal bell rang.

“Them?”

“Willow and Oz! There has to be something wrong! Oh no—what if he’s cheating on her?”

“Buffy.” Spike grabbed her arms. “Calm down. Neither ‘f us knows what’s really going on, an’ goin’ off your bird isn’t gonna accomplish a thing.”

“But...” Buffy glared at him. She knew he was trying to help, but she didn’t want to calm down. She wanted to freak out. “You don’t even care!” she accused.

He closed his eyes briefly. A vein seemed to pop out in his forehead. Why was she doing this? She was totally wigging out on him, and it couldn’t be good. Spike relationship goodness was only just beginning, and she was already messing up.

“You know I care, Buffy,” he said softly.

She closed her eyes as well, leaning against him briefly. “Yeah, I know. I’m just a little freaked out. Wills is always there, and now she’s not.”

“I know what you mean. Let’s go get lunch, yeah?”

“Please.” They walked out of the room together.

*

Willow wasn’t at lunch. Oz was, but all he did was shrug when asked what had happened to her. He didn’t even eat with the group, something that, Anya informed Buffy, was an almost unheard-of occurrence. Buffy tried to get out of the cafeteria to find Willow, now certain that something was very wrong, but Snyder’s mini-Nazis stopped her.

She skipped English. Giles was a cool guy and she liked his class and all, but if Willow was in trouble, then that took precedent over pretty much everything else.

She searched all the bathrooms first, but Willow was in none of them. Well, there went the whole crying-in-the-bathroom theory. She decided she’d check outside.

She slipped out a side door, keeping a watchful eye out for teachers. The building was such a shape that there were lots of nooks and crannies in the walls. If Willow wanted to be alone, maybe she’d choose to do it out here.

She had walked round half the back when she heard voices. Thinking that it could be Willow and—God, she hoped so—Oz, she walked over to where they were.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” That was Oz, but he didn’t sound happy. Buffy stopped right behind the bit of wall that held Oz and—

“That’s not what you said last night.”

Buffy stiffened. And some sultry, slutty bitch who had no business coming anywhere near Oz!

She was just about ready to storm out and demand to know what the hell was going on when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around slowly. Willow stood behind her, tears running down her cheeks. “Don’t bother,” she whispered.

Buffy threw a murderous glance back at the wall. Ooh, what she wouldn’t give to be able to smash her fist right into that bastard’s face! She couldn’t believe she’d once thought that Oz was a good guy.

They walked away from the scene in silence. Buffy was fuming, and when they were out of earshot, she exploded.

“What the fuck is that bastard doing? ” she yelled, facing Willow with fury in her eyes.

“Buffy, stop!” Tears came to the redhead’s already swollen eyes. “Please, just st-o-op,” she moaned, collapsing onto the grass.

“Oh, God, Wills, I’m sorry,” she said, wrapping her arms around her friend. “I thought—oh, screw it. He’s ripping your heart out, isn’t he?”

Willow nodded, hiccupping. Buffy wanted to ask a million questions—‘how the hell did this happen’ and ‘do you care if I hire a hit man’ came to mind—but she knew that first, Willow needed to cry. She held her friend as the tears ran.

After about a half hour her tears dried up. Buffy sat back, leaning into the grass. “Now, tell me what happened.”

Willow obeyed. “I kind of suspected something was up. I mean, Oz has never talked much, but for the past few weeks he’s been talking hardly at all. And even when he is quiet, I can usually feel something. A kind of connection, you know? But now it’s gone. I thought—last weekend I really started wondering. He was so distant. He ignored me half the time. I—“ her voice broke off. “I caught them kissing outside my house.”

Buffy felt sick. Oz must have been waiting for Willow. Willow had stumbled upon him and that slut she’d heard talking to him, and now her heart was broken.

She was going to kill that bastard.

But right now she had to listen to Willow. “I mean,” the redhead was babbling, “I guess it was silly of me to think we could work things out, right? It was a high school relationship. Those things never last. That girl, Veruca, she’s beautiful and sexy and of course Oz would rather have her than—me—“ She broke down again, sobbing.

“Shh,” Buffy whispered, patting her friend’s back. “It’s going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not!” Willow looked at her, suddenly serious and angry. “Don’t you see that? It’s not going to be okay! I loved him, Buffy. I loved him and he cheated on me with her!”

“Then he doesn’t deserve you. Listen to me, Willow.” Buffy grabbed her friend’s arm. “I know what you’re talking about, okay? Shit happens. There’s nothing you can do about it. Oz cheating on you is not your fault. Got that?” All she really wanted to do was hug her friend till she stopped crying and then go kill Oz, but she knew that pity or even too much compassion would make her break down. She herself had experienced this betrayal more than once.

“Yeah,” Willow whispered. She stared into space for a moment before saying, “You know what? You and Spike are so lucky.”

“How so?”

“Shiny, brand new relationship,” she said. “You both think it’ll get a happy ending. I remember when me and Oz thought that. It was nice.”

“Willow, you can have happy endings. It has to be with the right person.”

“Yeah. I thought that, too.”

Buffy decided to drop the subject. It was making her uneasy. Willow seemed so bleak and so sure that no couple ever worked out...she was afraid it was catching, like the flu or something. It had been only a few days ago that she, like Willow, thought the world was bereft of anything but sadness and betrayal. Spike had pulled her our of that, and she didn’t really feel like going back in anytime soon.

Willow looked on the verge of tears again, so Buffy stood up and said, “C’mon, let’s get you back inside. There’s only a few more hours of school. After that, it’s chick flicks, Kleenex and candy till the sun comes up.”

Willow pushed herself to her feet. She couldn’t bring herself to smile, but her eyes looked to Buffy to be a bit less watery. “Thanks.”

“I’m your friend, Wills,” Buffy told her. “I didn’t even have any friend till Anya introduced me to you guys. I’m not gonna just abandon you.” Her voice hardened. “Although Oz...”

“Stop,” Willow advised, wiping her eyes in a frantic effort to improve her looks. “I know you all want to kill Oz, but honestly, it’s okay. Xander hooked up with Anya while he was cheating on Cordelia.”

“What?” Jesus freakin’ Christ, even Xander cheated?! How majorly icky could you get? It was almost enough to make a girl lose all hope in men.

“Yeah, it tore us all apart for almost three months,” Willow recounted sadly. “But it worked out all right in the end. So you see, it’s going to be okay.”

“Okay. Right.” Buffy was fighting to keep a hold on her temper. First Oz, now Xander...poor, poor Willow. Buffy was in a happy relationship. If she could barely stand all the deceit, how must Willow be holding up?

“Really, it is, Buffy,” Willow insisted.

“Okay,” she said again. She shook her doubt off. Willow needed her right now. “Now, let’s get inside.”

She slung her arm around her friend. Willow was taller than Buffy was, but she leaned on Buffy as they walked back into the school.

Just as Willow was done cleaning up in the bathroom, the bell rang to signify the end of sixth period. Buffy put her hands on Willow’s shoulders. “You think you can do this?”

Willow nodded. “I’m better now. Thanks.”

“No prob. Just—when Spike and I break up—“ Buffy’s voice faltered. She didn’t want to think about she and Spike breaking up. Ever.

“Stop right there,” Willow ordered. “You and Spike are not going to break up. You’re going to get a happy ending and that’s that.”

“Willow—“ Buffy began, slightly exasperated.

“Nope. Not a word. See this?” Willow pointed to her face. “It’s what Xander calls my resolve face. It means I’m going to get my way. So if I say you and Spike get a happy ending, then you get it. Understood?”

Buffy smiled, masking the uncertainty she still felt. Willow’s tirade had raised questions about she and Spike’s relationship. “Okay, Wills. Now, let’s get you back to class. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone cute.”

Willow barely cracked a smile as they left the bathroom. She knew that Buffy was just trying to make it better, but she didn’t want someone cute. She wanted Oz.

And right now, she felt even sorrier for the blonde than she did for herself. It was blindingly obvious, even to a person as pain-filled as herself, that Buffy was falling hard and fast for Spike. Right now it was okay, because right now he was there to catch her. But later on?

Be careful, Buffy, she willed her friend. You’re falling in love, and it will only break your heart.

What Willow couldn’t possibly know was that it had already been broken. If Spike didn’t catch her after that fateful fall...

Buffy shivered. The thought had occurred to her just as it had Willow. If Spike wasn’t there, her heart wouldn’t just break.

It would shatter into a million pieces.

~*~

 

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