Rated NC-17!!! Please do not read if you are underage.

Warnings for: Hardcore, graphic sex, adult language and content.

Summary: AU. Buffy catches Spike robbing her house and incapacitates him. They learn more about each other (and their feelings change) as they wait for the police to arrive.

Thanks to Lana for beta'ing for me!

Joss, ME & FOX own all.

Feedback is welcome! Let me know what you think!


Story Status: Complete

Chapter 1


Buffy came home from the Bahamas a week early. Pissed off and cursing her luck with the male of the species.

She had gone on vacation for two weeks with her boyfriend Riley. They had been having problems, so Buffy thought it would be a good thing for them to get away from it all together. Maybe try and patch up some of their differences.

They had big differences. To begin with, Riley was an overgrown Boy Scout. He tried to act perfect all of the time. He was Clark Kent without the Superman alter ego: Clean, polite and very, very boring. But he was a nice, upstanding and a good-looking guy. The kind of guy that everyone (including Buffy) thought that she should be with.

One of the worst things that had been bothering Buffy about Riley before the trip? He acted like he thought that he was better than her. Sometimes it was just a look, sometimes it was a comment. He woke up every morning and started working out. He went to church every Sunday. He always cleaned his plate at meal times, eating all of his vegetables like a good boy. He always did everything right. It drove Buffy nuts.

But she was willing to work at their relationship. Lots of couples had quirks that irked the other one, right? Buffy had seen an episode of Dr. Phil that featured a couple very much like Riley and herself. It was then that she got the idea to go on a fun vacation together. They could relax, have fun and have some heart to heart talks. That's the way she wanted it turn out, anyway.

After one week of relaxation, Buffy decided to start the relationshippy talks.

Riley had reacted defensively, taking offense at her perceived criticism of him. Buffy had tried to say things as gently and nicely as possible, choosing her words carefully. Keeping her voice soft and her statements beginning with, 'I feel that...'.

It burned her ass when it became obvious that Riley was jealous of her abilities. His drive to be perfect was shaken when it turned out that Buffy was better than him at something. Though Riley was physically much bigger and more powerful than her, Buffy often wiped up the mat with him when they sparred in their karate class. They both enjoyed drawing and painting -- Buffy's work received more attention than his did.

Riley admitted a few shocking things to Buffy as they argued that showed her that he wasn't nearly as perfect as she had thought. It was the clean-cut, All-American boy types that you really had to watch out for -- Under a veneer of wholesomeness could lurk a freaky, lying bastard.

After giving him a good slap across the face, packing her bags and hopping on a plane, Buffy got back to Sunnydale. Far more upset than she had been when she left.


It was a long plane ride, but finally, Buffy was back in her home trying to get some sleep. She put on her comfort pj's -- her yummy sushi pajamas.

There was a big thunderstorm moving through the area. The loud cracks of thunder and lightning didn't help to lull her to sleep.

Buffy tossed and turned, punching her pillow and mumbling curse words. Finally, she found a comfortable position and started feeling more relaxed.

Her eyes opened when she thought she heard a sound coming from downstairs.

'Just my imagination. Troubled mind, scary-sounding storm, that's all.' She closed her eyes again.

Another noise made her eyes snap open. 'Okay, I didn't imagine that...Someone's down there.'

It was 12:30 AM. No one she knew would have come over this late. It couldn't be Riley either. She had left him in the Bahamas and he was pissed at her when she left. That left one possibility: Someone had broken into the house.

Buffy's heart was pounding with fear. 'OmigodOmigodOmigod! Okay, calm down. Keep a cool head. Call the cops...Yeah!'

She reached for her bedside phone, only then remembering that she needed to buy a new one. Stupid broken phone . That meant that the only working phone in the house was downstairs in the kitchen. Downstairs where the intruder was lurking around.

What if it was a guy? What if he came upstairs and tried... Buffy's fear shot back up. She hoped that whoever it was wouldn't try to hurt her...or worse. No matter what, Buffy wouldn't let him (or them) do anything without a fight. She was in excellent physical condition. She worked out almost everyday and enjoyed martial arts.

The more time passed, the angrier Buffy became. How dare someone break into her house! Violating her privacy and taking her hard earned possessions! This burglar was going to get what was coming to him!

Buffy looked around her bedroom, quietly chanting, "Weapon...weapon...need a weapon." She growled when she didn't see anything that she could use.

Then her eyes settled on the bottle of champagne that she'd kept from her 21st birthday (to be opened and drank on a special occasion). Buffy hated to have to use it like this, but it had some good heft to it. The guy would be seeing stars for sure if she bonked him over the head with the bottle.

'Okay. I can do this. I'll check things out. If there seems to be more than one, I'll come back up here and hide under the bed until they're gone. But if it's just one guy, he's toast. I can kick ass in karate class. I can apply it to a real-life situation...if I'm forced to.' Buffy was very good in her classes, but she had never used martial arts outside of the classroom up until now. It was one thing to kick butt with classmates and an instructor; it was another thing to be faced with a real, potentially deadly and terrifying situation.

Buffy tiptoed over to the bookshelf and picked up the bottle. She experimentally swung it. Yeah, this would be a hurtin' on someone.

She was scared, but silently left her bedroom. She looked out over the banister down the stairs, seeing if she could make out anyone. It was so damn dark! Buffy stifled a gasp as a person holding a flashlight walked from the dining room into the living room. She could mostly make out the shape of his body and a big sack that he was carrying.

'Oh shit. There he is! And he has a bag filled with my stuff! I don't hear any whispering or talking, he must be alone.' Her eyes narrowed. She took in deep breaths and gripped the neck of the bottle. 'Time to take out the trash.'

Buffy slowly and warily descended the stairs. She hoped that the stairs wouldn't creak to announce her presence. Part of her brain was freaking out, demanding that she go back to her room and hide. This was highly dangerous. The guy could have a gun or a knife. But Buffy was never a coward. She faced danger, not running away from it. And after she bashed this guy's head in, tied him up and called the cops, Buffy would have an exciting story to tell her friends for years to come. Maybe she'd even get on the news. The media loved these kinds of stories.

He was down on one knee, going through a desk drawer. Buffy crept up behind him, her heart racing. She raised the bottle high into the air, then brought it down on his head with a war cry. The bottle didn't shatter, but there was a heavy *BONK* sound.

"Unngh!" he grunted. He groaned and swayed for a second before dropping to the floor on his side, like a sack of wet cement.

"I did it!" Buffy panted, backing away. "I got you! Think you can rob me? You son of a bitch!" She laughed.

Then she remembered that he might wake up at any moment, though she had bashed him pretty good.

"Gotta tie him up, then I'll call the cops."

Buffy turned on the lights. It looked like he was wearing the standard burglar garb: Black knit cap, black shirt and pants, black jacket. He was almost curled into a ball with his back to her. She gave the burglar's crumpled form one more glance to make sure that he wasn't waking up, then ran to the kitchen. She knew just what to use to bind him. She grabbed the coil of rope that she used for a backyard clothesline. It was strong enough to hold him, she hoped.

Buffy quickly went back to the living room. On the way, she had scary thoughts that he might have woken up and be hiding, waiting to jump out at her. That's the way it always happened on tv.

She breathed with relief at seeing him still in the exact same position as when she'd left. She walked over to him, ready to hit him with the bottle again. Buffy nudged his back with her foot then jumped away. He still didn't move.

Holding her breath, Buffy got down on her knees and pulled both of his arms behind his back. As fast as she could, she bound his wrists tightly. Buffy was pretty good at tying knots thanks to her days as a Girl Scout. Then she went on to bind his ankles together.

When she was finished, Buffy stood up (taking the bottle with her) and moved away from him. She smiled, breathing hard.

"There! I did--"

He started to groan. Buffy's eyes got wide, she hopped further away from him.

"Ahh--Bloody hell! What the f-fuck!?" He immediately discovered that his arms were immobilized.

"Hello, Mr. Burglar!" Buffy said, trying to sound smug. "Thought you could rob me, did ya? WRONG!"

He just growled and groaned.

"Now, I'll just be calling the police and have them come by to cart your worthless ass off to prison!"

He struggled to free his arms to no avail.

"Ha! Struggle all you like! You'll never get free!" Buffy rolled her eyes at her own words. She sounded like an old-timey movie villain.

He turned his face to her, moaned at the pain in his head. "Look, this is all just...a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" Buffy laughed incredulously. "Let me see, what could have led me to believe that you were robbing me? Hmmmm..." She tapped a finger on her chin. "Well, there's the fact that you have a sack full of my possessions. And that you were prowling around my house in the dark with a flashlight. Oh! And the fact that you've obviously been doing your clothes shopping at Burglars 'R' Us."

He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing at the gigantic headache he had. "Okay, I know it looks bad...but..."

"But? There is no but. You were stealing my stuff that I worked hard for! And who knows what sick things you had planned on doing to me when you got done with that."

"Hey, now," he protested. "I wasn't going to hurt you. That's not my style. I didn't even know anyone was here! You're supposed to be on bloody vacation!"

"How did you know that?!"

"You cancelled your newspaper for two weeks. That's one of the methods I use to find out when a house will be empty. Can--Can you at least loosen these ropes a little? It's cutting of my circulation."

Buffy firmly shook her head. "Uh-uh, no frickin' way, buddy. I don't care if your hands and feet turn blue and then fall off! If you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make." She started to turn away.

"No, please! Don't call the pigs!"

Buffy laughed, looking back down at him. "Are you crazy? I caught you robbing my house. You're going down."

"I'll do anything you want, just don't call the cops. You want me to leave town forever? Never nick anything else ever again? I'll do it."

She laughed again. "Oh yeah, I'm stupid enough to take the word of a scumbag criminal? Tough luck. If you can't do the time, don't do the crime."

He groaned, as much from the tired cliché as from pain he was in and the prospect of going to jail.

Buffy was just starting to walk to the kitchen when the lights suddenly went out. She stopped and gasped at the sudden darkness.

"Shit!" Buffy said.

She looked around, seeing his dropped flashlight on the floor by the desk, it was still turned on. She went over and picked it up. "I'll use your flashlight to find my way to the phone. Ah, sweet irony."

"Sod off," he growled.

Buffy went to the kitchen and picked up the phone. She dialed 9 before she realized that there was no dial tone. She hung up and picked it back up repeatedly, but the phone wasn't working.

Buffy whispered, "Oh, that's just fucking great!" She tried the phone a few more times. Maybe the lines were down? "Now what?"

She had a trussed up burglar on her living room floor with no way to contact the police. Well she could just pretend like she had called the police, then keep trying. It wasn't like the guy would know the truth.

Putting on a confident air, Buffy went back to the living room. He was still laying on his stomach, his bindings seemed to be holding well.

"I called the cops. It won't be long before you're being whisked away to the pokey."

He sighed heavily. "Can I sit up?"

"Don't move."

"C'mon! I'm not a monster, ya know? I was just nicking some things. You bashed my head in and tied me up...That's much worse."

"I was protecting myself and my property. You got what you deserved. You're just lucky that I don't own a gun."

"I think I'm bleeding."

"Good." Buffy did feel just a little bit bad. "The cops will take you to the hospital when they take you away, I'm sure."

"Have a heart, luv! I could be bleeding to death on your carpet!"

That clinched it. Buffy didn't want to be on her hands and knees scrubbing out bloodstains for days. "Okay, I'll let you sit up. And don't call me 'luv'."

He wriggled, getting up on his knees. He wobbled, his eyes fluttered. "Fuck--you really nailed me with that thing!"

"Yup. I sure did." She happily held the bottle up.

He slowly leaned his back against the fireplace. "You could have killed me, ya know?"

"That was a possibility." Buffy really didn't want to kill anyone. But her fear and anger had made her take action.

"Your compassion for your fellow man is heartwarming, really it is," he said sarcastically.

"Oh shut up! Like you give a crap about your 'fellow man'?"

"Well I wouldn't let someone bleed to death!"

"You're not bleeding to death. Don't be such a baby."

His eyes bugged. "A baby?! You fucking whacked me with a heavy bottle! Really, really hard too."

"The idea was to knock you out. I wasn't going to let you get away with my stuff. And I didn't know what you might do to me. It was a preemptive strike."

"I told you, I wasn't going to hurt you!"

"I'm going to get some candles. You stay right there, don't move. I still have the bottle," she held it up, "and I'm not afraid to use it."

He mumbled, "Crazy, fuckin' bint."

"What was that?" she said warningly.

"Nothin'."

Buffy glared at him, then left to get some candles.


Spike needed to get out of here. He felt behind him. The bottom of the fireplace was rough brick. He put the ropes binding his wrists against a sharp corner and started moving his arms up and down. With any luck he could cut through the ropes.

'Shit, my head is killing me! I really picked the wrong bloody house this time.'

Spike had been telling the truth about not knowing that anyone was in the house. He only robbed places when he was sure that the residents were elsewhere. Unfortunately for him, he had been grossly misinformed.

He hadn't meant to scare anyone, especially a woman, by moving about the house in the dark. The blonde woman looked...familiar. Spike knew her from somewhere...But maybe he was just goofy from the blow to the head. Though he wanted to wring her neck for clobbering him, he had to admit that she was a cute bird.

She really did look familiar...but he couldn't place her. It was difficult to think of anything, what with his head pounding and his impending arrest.

He worked harder at scraping the ropes against the bricks.


Buffy gathered up as many candles as she could find. The burglar guy was actually kinda cute...The accent was very sexy. It wasn't everyday that British criminal hotties burgled your home. If he weren't a lowlife slimeball she might have went for him. He had killer bone structure. Those cheekbones could cut glass. Again, too bad he was a criminal.

"What a waste," Buffy said, heading back to the living room.


Spike heard her coming back and stopped trying to get free. His upper lip curled and he swore in his head. He flinched, turning his head away when she shone the flashlight beam in his face.

"Hey, do you mind? Thanks for leaving me with no light source whatsoever," he said.

"Just making sure that you're still where I left you. Aw, what's the matter?" She mock pouted, holding the flashlight up to her face. "Baby, afraid of the dark?"

"Get stuffed."

"If you have problems with being in the dark maybe you should have chosen a different career path."

Spike glared at her.

Buffy placed candles around the room and lit them as she went along. By the time she was finished, there was a good amount of light.

"Move away from the fireplace," she said.

"Why?" Spike asked. He didn't want to move. He wanted to keep trying to wear down the ropes.

"Because I want to light a fire, dumbass. You can move over there." She pointed to the couch.

"Yeah, easy for you to say. My wrists and ankles are tightly bound. I've got the world's worst bloody headache! And I'm losin' blood!"

"Move it!" Buffy commanded.

His eyes widened at her tone. She meant business. He didn't want another blow to the head. Slowly, he inched across the floor. He rested his back against the couch. He hung his head back and closed his eyes, breathing hard.

Buffy bit her lip. Her instinct was to see if he was okay. But he was a dirty, rotten criminal! He didn't deserve mercy or her pity. She squared her chin and started making a fire.

Spike felt like he might pass out there for a minute. But he staved it off. He kept quiet while Buffy got a fire going. He contemplated what was going to happen to him once the cops got here. His life was going to suck worse than it ever had.

"That's better," Buffy said. She sat on the edge of the bricks and looked at him. "Well, let's see which of my possessions you were trying to take." She pulled over the bag that he'd brought with him and opened it up.

Buffy pulled out a candlestick that had been in the dining room china cabinet. "My silver candlesticks! You bastard! My grandmother left these to me!"

Spike was looking away from her. He never liked thinking of the victim's reactions to what he did. It was just easier to put that part of it out of his mind normally. It was impossible to avoid it this time.

Buffy grumbled and continued searching through the sack. She took out something wrapped in tinfoil. Buffy knew exactly what it was. She had watched a tv show once where people hid their valuable jewelry (wrapped in tinfoil) in the refrigerator. It had seemed like a very clever idea.

She glowered at him. "How did you find this!?"

Spike shrugged. "It's a well known trick. Like hiding cash or jewels in a false book in a bookcase."

"Speaking of books, I hope they throw the fucking book at you! Oooh, I wish I had a gun!" Buffy fumed, closing the bag back up.

Spike leaned away, trying to scoot farther from her, hoping that she wouldn't start beating the shit out of him. She looked pretty damn irate. There wasn't much he would be able to do to defend himself if she started wailing on him.

"You stay right where you are! I see you trying to escape!"

"I'm not trying to escape!" he yelled back. "My wrists and ankles are tied together! What is it that you think I'm going to do? Make my escape by rolling out the fucking door? Hop away like a bunny? Propel myself forward on the ground using my lips? Undulate my body like a snake and slither away?"

"Yeah, the slithering sounds good for you. Very appropriate. People like you make me wanna puke! The rest of us work hard and do our best to live our lives peacefully. Scum like you are just leeches who cause good people to live in fear!"

"Alright, already! I'm scum. I get it! Shut your gob! Stop jabbering at me!"

"Ohhh you're lucky that all I'm doing is yelling at you! What's to stop me from bringing this bottle down on your head a few more times?"

"You can't say that you were just protecting yourself this time," Spike said. "I'm completely defenseless. You're not in any danger, real or perceived."

"So what? I hate you and I don't think one whack was enough to make you pay. Who knows how many people you've victimized?"

"If you hit me again you might kill me this time. That's cold-blooded murder. It'd be like those so-called sportsmen who shoot those poor animals in pens."

"You're giving me a lecture on morality?" Buffy laughed. She was still very angry, but it did chill her blood that she had actually thought about beating him while he was tied up. Buffy would have hated herself in the light of day for doing that to anyone, even an asshole like him.

"I'm not a murderer or a rapist. I only steal."

"You don't think that you make people feel violated?"

Spike looked away.

"That's what you do. Not only do you take things that could be irreplaceable and have incredible sentimental value, but you make them afraid. You don't have a soul if you can do that kind of shit."

"Now I'm soulless? Believe me, I have a soul," he said quietly.

"How can you possibly have one?"

"Not everyone has had it as good as you, sweetheart. Some people have had a rougher road to hoe than you."

"Oh please. Don't give me that, 'I'm a victim of society' bullshit!" Buffy was storming out of the room with the flashlight in hand. "Don't move a muscle."

Spike started trying to get the rope to loosen on his wrists as soon as she left. It hurt like hell. The rope was reddening his wrists and cutting into them. He tried twisting his hands back and forth, gritting his teeth.


Buffy said a silent prayer as she picked up the receiver.

"Yes!" There was a dial tone this time. It was staticy, but at least it was working.

Buffy dialed 9-1-1.

“9-1-1. What is the nature of your emergency?” the female operator asked.

“My name is Buffy Summers. I caught a guy robbing my house. I need the police to get here right away!”

“Is he still there?”

“Yes, I knocked him out and tied him up in my living room before he could get away. Please send someone to take him away soon. I’m all alone with him in the dark here, my power is out! I‘m worried that he‘ll get free!”

“Try and stay calm, Ma’am. Were you injured?"

"No, he didn't touch me. I'm fine."

"We’ll send a patrol car as soon as one is available. What‘s your address?”

“1630 Revello Drive. What do you mean that you’ll send a car as soon as one is available?”

“The storm has taxed our resources to the limit. There are emergencies all over town. The phone lines have been going out all night too. We aren’t able to send out any units to your location yet.”

“You gotta be kidding? What am I supposed to do until they get here?! Play Gin Rummy with him?!”

“Keep calm. Is he securely tied? Do you have a weapon?”

“I--I--Yeah, he’s tied up good. I hit him with a wine bottle, but I can find something better.”

“Is there a friend, neighbor or family member that you can call? Someone that could stay with you until help arrives?”

“I, uh, I can try to call a few people.”

“Do you need me to stay on the line with you until--”

“No. I’ll...be okay.”

“Keep your wits about you and sit tight. Help will come as soon as possible.”

“Thanks.” Buffy hung up. “Great...That’s just great!” she said loudly.

She remembered that he might be able to hear her. Buffy tried calling her friend Xander on the phone, it would be nice to have someone here with her while she waited for the cops. But the line went dead halfway through dialing his number.

“Shit...” Buffy cursed, slowly hanging up the phone. “Okay...that’s alright. I’ll be fine by myself. I can handle him.”


As she made her way back to the living room, the same nightmarish scene popped up in her head. That he might have gotten free in her absence.

Again, Buffy was extremely relieved to see him sitting on the floor against the couch.

“Something wrong?” he asked suspiciously.

“Nope. Not a thing.” She went to the fireplace and picked up the poker, then looked at him menacingly. “See this? If you try anything funny, you’ll get a taste of it.” She sat back down on the bricks.

Spike’s wrists were getting bloody, but he couldn’t loosen the damn ropes enough to slip out. “You’ve graduated onto pointy objects instead of blunt ones, eh?”

“That’s right. It’s good ’n pointy. The nice thing about the poker is that it’s heavy too. I can smack you with it with satisfying results too.”

“You enjoy doin’ violence on people, do you?”

“No. Just evil bastards who try to burglarize my home. And god knows what else you would have done to me.”

“You seem to be getting off on what you‘re doing to me. And how many bloody times do I have to tell you that I WAS NEVER GOING TO HURT YOU?!”

“Shut up! I’m sick of talking to you.”

“That makes two of us, luv! I’ve been trying to get you to shut your mouth for...I don’t even know how long! Never thought I‘d wish for the cops to come and arrest me.”

“They’ll be here. It won’t be a moment too soon either.“ Buffy turned her nose up and looked away.

“Yeah, let’s hope. I’m in more danger being alone with you than you are with me. You’re a little too unstable for my liking.”

Buffy exploded, “UNSTABLE!? I’m a good person who was just going about my business, trying to get a good night’s sleep after the vacation from hell -- You are a piece of shit criminal who broke into my house and scared me to death! Anyone in my position might act a little unstable!”

Spike eyed her, leaning away again. “Alright...calm down. Don’t get...stabby with the poker or anything like that.”

Buffy growled, gripping the poker. “It would serve you right if I did. Decent, tax paying, hardworking people don’t deserve jackals like you preying on them! We work our asses off every day and--”

“I see, you’ve decided that instead of using bottles or pointy things, your new method of attack is to bore me to death. I’ve heard the lecture before, luv. Save it.” Spike looked away from her.

“You’re a no-good, lowlife bastard,” she said angrily.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard that too. Shut your gob. Cute pj's, by the way," Spike said derisively with a smirk.

Buffy pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, wishing that she could bash his brains in some more.


They sat quietly for a while, only the crackling of the fire and the storm outside making any noise. It was making Buffy uneasier to not talk. She hated the silence. If only she had remembered to buy batteries for her radio.

She looked back over at him. He had his eyes closed. He really was a good looking guy. He looked amazing by firelight...his handsome face cast in light and shadow. Very hot...

One of those bizarre, uncharacteristic thoughts that occurred to everyone from time to time flashed through her head. Buffy had seen a porno movie once where a woman (she couldn’t recall who was in it or what it was titled) caught a guy robbing her house. The woman had tied him up to a chair, and then things turned erotic. The woman in the movie had her way with the hunky burglar, sucking his cock and riding him on the chair while he was tied up. The burglar hadn’t protested at all, he was having fun too.

Her immoral, wicked side put a picture in Buffy’s head of her and the blue-eyed criminal with the sharp cheekbones going at it just like the people in the movie.

What was she thinking?! Buffy blinked and shifted her thoughts away from how hot he was and any kind of crazy fantasy involving him. Even though she felt her loins stir at the bad thoughts.

‘Shit--No! No, I don’t want that! I hate him! Damn! Am I sick, or what?!’

Still...her eyes kept darting back to him. Every now and then his face twitched in what was probably pain. Buffy couldn’t help it, she was starting to feel bad about hurting him. Now that her anger had faded a little she could think more rationally.

Damn, where did she know him from? It was really bugging her. She still couldn’t place him; she had seen him before though.

“Why are you gawkin’ at me?” he asked.

Buffy had been so consumed by her jumbled thoughts and emotions that she hadn’t noticed him opening his eyes and looking directly at her.

She jumped a little in her seat, startled. “Uh, I...I was wondering if you were passed out.”

“No, just resting my eyes.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you care?”

“Nevermind. I’ll find out when they book you. I was just curious.”

Spike sighed. “It’s Spike.”

“What?”

“My name is Spike.”

She puckered her brow. “What kind of name is that?”

He shrugged. “That’s what people call me.”

“Do you have a normal name?”

“I prefer ‘Spike’.”

“Wow, your real name must truly suck if you go with something like ‘Spike‘ instead,” Buffy commented.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Making fun of my name now? Haven’t you done enough to me yet? Not content with cutting off the circulation to my hands and feet and fracturing my skull?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I was shut up. You’re the one who started talking again.”

“Fine. I won’t say another word until the police get here.”

“Good.”

Only about 30 seconds went by before she started talking again. Spike groaned as she began speaking.

“I wasn’t making fun of your name. I didn’t mean too, anyway,” Buffy said, almost nicely.

“It doesn’t matter.” Spike shifted uncomfortably on the floor. “People have said a lot worse to me. I’ve got a thick skin. Little jabs about my name are nothing in comparison.”

“Why did you have to pick my house to rob?”

“I really wish that I hadn’t now. But I’d found out that the occupant, you, was going to be away so...that’s why I chose your place.”

“You really didn’t know that someone would be here?”

“I’ve told you a thousand times, no. I had no idea. If I had even the slightest clue that you were in the house, I wouldn‘t have come.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay...I believe you about that.”

“Finally.”

“Well, you have to admit that you don’t exactly inspire trust.”

He shrugged again and hissed a little in pain.

“Are you...alright?” Buffy couldn’t believe that she was actually asking after his welfare -- or concerned about it.

“Yeah, just peachy.”

“Geez, I was just asking.”

“Forgive me if I’m not the picture of graciousness at the ‘mo. Could I have a smoke? They're in the inner pocket of my jacket.”

"Are you serious? No way. I'm not letting you pollute my house with nasty smoke. How were you planning to hold the cigarette anyway?" Buffy asked.

"I...thought maybe you could hold it for me and let me get a few puffs in."

She laughed. "I don't think so. I wouldn't trust me with holding the cigarette if I were you. I might get the urge to grind it out on your face." Not that she would do that. Buffy was pissed off, but she wouldn't damage a beautiful face like his -- even though he was a bad guy.

"Alright! Forget it. You really do have a sadistic streak, ya know." Spike looked sullenly at the fireplace.

"So...you're British." She tsk'ed, "Isn't that always the way? You foreign criminals come over here and take our American criminals' jobs. We have quite enough criminals here already, thanks. Stay in your own country to commit crimes."

“I’ll try to keep that in mind. Why are you engaging me in conversation?”

“What kind of common thief uses phrases like, ‘engaging me in conversation‘?”

“First of all, I’m not a common anything. And second, do you think that I was always this way?” Spike shook his head. “No, I used to be pure as the driven snow. I was a right swot when it came to school and that kind of shit.”

“Swot?”

Spike cracked a little smile. “Yeah. It’s an unkind term for someone who studies hard.”

“Like a nerd or geek?”

“Something like that.”

Oh, he looked so cute when he smiled like that! Buffy cleared her throat, and that thought, from her mind. ‘No. No thinking that he’s cute, or sexy, or in any way appealing. Remember, he’s a filthy criminal!’

“What’s a British criminal doing in Sunnydale, anyway? Why not L.A. or ritzier places?” Her innate curiosity got the better of her.

“Used to live here. I was passing through a few months ago and decided to stay for a bit.”

“You lived here? I keep thinking that I’ve seen you before. That must be it. How long ago?”

He squinted his eyes and looked up. “Mm, ’bout...8 years ago now, I think. I only lived her for 2 years. I went to Sunnydale High.”

“So did I! Maybe I know you from school?”

“Could be. Oh...Wait...I know who you are now,” Spike said, as it dawned on him. “You’re...Buffy. Buffy Summers.”

Her eyes were big with surprise. “Yeah, that’s my name! But I don’t remember you.”

“That’s not surprising. I was very forgettable.”

Buffy knew that she would have remembered a foxy English guy going to her school. So why was she drawing a complete blank?

“What’s your real name? Just so I can try to remember.”

“William Chapman.”

Buffy had to think for a minute, then she remembered him. “Oh my god! I do remember you!” She leaned forward looking closely at him. “No...You aren’t him. That’s crazy.” Buffy shook her head.

“I’m tellin’ you, that’s me.”

“But...William was a straight-A student with perfect attendance. Chess club type. Very shy and quiet, if I remember right.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Got your yearbook?”

“Yeah...I do.” She got up and went to the bookcase. “Here it is,” Buffy said, pulling out her old yearbook.

She was so engrossed in finding out if he could really be William Chapman, that she forgot to be wary of him. Spike raised his eyebrows when she got down on her knees near him. Buffy opened the book on her lap and thumbed through the pages.

She found the page that she had been searching for. William’s senior photo. Buffy held the book up next to his face, looking from the picture to him, then back.

“Let me put a stupid smile on my face like in the picture.” Spike smiled slightly.

“Shit...he is you! You’re him!”

“That’s what I said.”

She lowered the book to the floor. “You’re so different, not just the way you look. I never would have imagined you turning out this way.”

“Neither would I, at the time that picture was taken,” he said with a sad smile. “But you didn’t know me, not really. I don’t think that we exchanged more than 10 words over those two years.”

“I remember you mostly talking to Willow. You’d always scurry off when any of her other friends came around.”

Spike got a big, genuine grin on his face. “Ah, Willow Rosenberg. I really liked her. She was pretty and bright. And she was nice to me. That didn’t happen often. I had a mad crush on her.”

“Why didn’t you ever ask her out?”

“I didn’t have the nerve. I’d turn into a blushing, stuttering jackass every time that I tried. Not a pretty sight. Then she started seeing Oz, so...that was that. I missed my chance.”

“Wow, I still can’t believe it's you.”

“Guess I’ll be missing the class reunion,” Spike said wryly. “Please, send my regards to our fellow classmates.”

Buffy shook her head. “How did your life take such a nosedive? You were a nice guy. Willow always said that were a sweetie. What happened to you?”

“You don’t want to hear it.”

“Would I be asking if I didn’t want to know?”

"You sure you want to hear my tale of woe? Here's the abridged version: I needed money, started stealing, made a career out of it. And here I am. The end. It‘s a cautionary tale."

"You're quite the storyteller," Buffy smirked. "We've got the time, so it seems. So give me the full version. I'd like to know what caused you to change so drastically. Start with why you left Sunnydale."

"Let me begin by saying that I'm not telling you this to get your pity. I don't want anyone's pity."

"Okay. No pitying. Got it. Now start talking.”

"Alright, remember, you asked for it.” Spike took a breath, looking at the fire, then began. “My mum took ill. Right after graduation, she wanted to go back home to England. So my mum, dad and I went back to London. My mum kept getting sicker. My dad started drinking real heavy. Guess he couldn't deal with everything. He wasn't a happy drunk, all giggly and smiling, though. He was a right bastard when he was juiced up, yellin' and screamin', throwing things about the house." Spike let out a heavy breath. "Anyway, I wanted to go to university, but there wasn't the money or time for it. Mum needed me to help take care of her."

Buffy just sat and listened, nodding as if to say, 'Go on'.

"Dad spent all day in pubs. He lost his job after a month or so 'cos he didn't bother going in to work. I was the one who had to figure out what to do. We had no income, I couldn't get a job because someone had to be home to take care of mum. We were running out of everything; no food, no nothing. There was some money in the bank to pay bills, but that wouldn’t last forever. We were going to lose the house if something wasn't done quickly. That's the first time that I considered turning to crime. I was desperate."

"I started with shoplifting. My first few attempts at larceny were laughable. I was so bloody scared that I'd be caught. But I did get away with it a few times. I just stole food from the market at first so that we'd have something in the cupboards. Then I began nicking other things, little things like pretty earrings and pins for my mum. She never went out anymore, but I wanted to give her things to cheer her up. There was this huge, great thrill that I got when I made it out of the shops with the loot. It was an incredible feeling! Better than sex....not that I knew what sex was like back then. I felt invincible."

"Better than sex? Really?" Buffy asked.

"Well, I suppose it would depend on how good the sex was." Spike smirked. "But yeah, the rush I got from stealing was orgasmic."

Buffy looked down, blushing.

She looked uncomfortable, so Spike got on with the story. "Eventually, my streak of luck ran out. I got too cocky I suppose. I thought that I could get away with it just because I had so many other times. I was trying to leave a shop with a radio under my coat and felt that hand on my shoulder. Ugh, that's one of the worst feelings in the world. Your heart freezes in your chest, it feels like ice water is trickling down your spine and you want to puke."

Buffy grimaced, "Mmm, sounds lovely."

"Yeah. I couldn't talk my way out of it and they sent me to jail. I was so bloody miserable, I wished that I would just snuff it suddenly before my dad had a chance to get his hands on me. I knew that my mum would be very upset too. I didn't want to make her feel any worse than she already did. At the station, before they finished booking me, this beautiful girl sits down next to me. She was waiting to be booked too. We started talking while we waited to be processed. Her name was Drusilla. She got arrested for stealing too, just a cheap pendant, so she wasn't in much trouble either."

"Dru wrote her number on my hand and asked me to call her after I got out. One of the cops led her away soon after that. I was happy there for a few minutes, smiling and staring at the number written on my hand. Then my dad showed up. I knew by the look on his face that I was in for it. He paid my bail and took me home, not speaking a word to me the whole time. As soon as we got in the door he started screaming at me and beat the living hell out of me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Buffy said softly. "Did he hurt you really bad?"

Spike shrugged. "It didn't tickle. I had a busted lip, black eye and bruises from it. That was the first time my dad ever beat me like that, but it wasn't the last. He started making a ritual of comin' home, pissed drunk, and taking a few swings at me. I didn't fight back...'cos he was my dad, ya know? He gave me this scar above my eye." Spike turned his head to let her see his left brow.

Buffy's heart went out to him. She didn't know what to say.

“Life at home was bad, to put it mildly. My only escape from it was being with Drusilla. She was like no one I’d ever met. Dru was smart, beautiful, funny and fearless. Turned out that she was a very experienced thief. She was just a bit careless the time that she got arrested. Dru introduced me to other people, the criminal element you might say. I learned a lot from them and Dru about how to be a better thief. It didn’t take long for me to start stealing bigger, more expensive items. Major electronics and cars were where the big money was.”

Buffy asked, “Did you ever stop and think about what you were doing? You knew it was wrong.”

“I knew it was wrong, yeah. But I needed the money. And I got addicted to it. Like I said, there’s this thrill that goes along with getting away with something bad. I had lots of money comin’ in. I was able to pay the rent, buy food, get good healthcare for my mum, buy myself lots of cool things. It was great. My dad would question me about where I got the money sometimes, but he was content to let it go enjoy the bills being paid without him lifting a finger.”

Spike stopped and looked at her. “Have you heard enough yet?”

“If there’s more, I’d like to hear it. Unless it’s too hard for you to talk about?”

“I don’t mind spilling the sordid details of my life. I feel kinda compelled to actually. Seems like a movie or something. The criminal tells his story to his most recent victim as they wait for the police to come and cart him away.”

Buffy felt kind of guilty for calling the police, even though she was perfectly justified for doing it.

Spike said, “Things fell apart even more when my mum passed on. I was grief-stricken at losing her. She was the sweetest, most caring person that you’d ever want to meet. My dad got more violent after her death. He was never sober that I could tell. I tried to spend all of my time with Dru and my friends, anything to avoid him.”

“Why didn’t you move out? There was no reason for you to stay after your mom died,” Buffy wondered.

Spike uttered a sigh, “I wanted to leave, but part of me couldn't abandon dad. Even though he was a drunkard and beat on me, I was all that he had left in the world. I thought that maybe if I stuck around, that he would get better someday. Get his head together. One time, I did have enough and took him down. He was yelling about something or other, I don’t even remember what it was now. It was best to just ignore him when he started on about something, he rarely made sense. Dad must have asked me a question and got pissed when I didn‘t answer him, so he smashed a bottle of lager over my head.”

Buffy frowned sadly. “Oh...like...I hit you with the champagne bottle...”

“Yeah, very much like that. Except the bottle broke that time. I saw fuckin’ stars, I’ll tell ya. I was drenched in lager and bleeding. I remember putting my hand to my head and then looking at it, my palm covered with my blood. I looked up at him, stunned that he had done that to me. He just looked back at me all beady-eyed, smiling a little. He said, ‘That’ll teach you to not mind your dad, you worthless little shit. I shoulda worn a rubber johnny the time we conceived you.’”

Buffy bit her lip, he was breaking her heart. She could tell that all of what Spike was saying was true. “I’m sorry, Spike. You really did have a horrible life after you left Sunnydale.”

“Told you, I don’t want you to pity me.”

“It’s not pity. It’s compassion. There’s a difference. What happened...after your dad hurt you?”

“I flipped out. I punched him in the face, knockin' him down. I wasn’t going to take his shit anymore. I waited for him to get up to see if he was gonna come back at me. He had the balls to look surprised. He told me to get the fuck out of the house and never come back. So that’s what I did. Dru took me to the hospital and got me fixed up. Then I moved in with her. That was about 5 years ago. I don’t know what became of dad after I left. Probably drank himself to death by now.”

“Are you still with Drusilla?”

Spike shook his head. “No. Things were good between us for a few years, until she started cheating on me while I was in jail. I was so angry with her for betraying me like that. Dru was the one person in my life that I thought I could trust, that would never hurt me. But I tried fighting to win her back once I got out of jail. I wasn’t going to let the woman that I loved slip through my fingers without a fight. She did stop seeing the guy, but then I caught her with another guy a few months later. That was it for me, I left her. Last I heard, she was living in Paris. It‘s been two years since I‘ve seen her.”

“Cheating hurts. I know,” Buffy nodded in sympathy.

“Someone cheated on you too?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend...ex-boyfriend. What’s happened since you’ve been on your own?”

“Not much. I just travel around and steal shit, did a little more time in jail. I saw Sunnydale on the map and thought I’d see how things were going here, what had changed since the last time. You know, when I went to school here, I thought my life sucked. But it wasn’t as bad as I had thought, in retrospect. I was an awkward, shy git. Wish I’d been more outgoing and gotten to know more people.”

Spike finished, “That’s my story. It’s not an excuse for everything I’ve done. It’s an explanation.”

“I’m really sorry, Spike. That’s compassion, not pity, FYI.”

“What about this ex of yours that cheated? Why would a bloke cheat on you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I...mean that you’re beautiful.” Spike looked away to the fire. “He’d have to be an idiot to risk losing you.”

Buffy blushed a little. “Um, thanks...but...I don’t want to talk about it.”

Spike nodded. “Suit yourself.”

They were quiet for a few minutes. Predictably, Buffy started talking again.

“Riley is such an asshole! I thought that he was Prince Charming, you know? Handsome, smart...kinda smart, moral, good and decent. The guy that girl's moms pray that they'll bring home someday. We had our problems, but I wanted to try working on our relationship. I went away with him to the Bahamas on vacation.”

“That’s the vacation that you just came back from...unexpectedly?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. I wanted us to work on our problems, but he got all offended when I told him, very nicely I might add, about the things that I wasn’t happy with. We started fighting and things came out in the heat of the moment that might have never come out normally.”

“Like what?” Spike asked.

Part of Buffy was telling her not to share intimate details of her personal life with him, but she ignored it. She felt the need to talk to Spike and tell him all of this for some reason.

“Like the fact that he went to a prostitute for a bj.”

“Oh...That’s not good...” Spike curled up his upper lip.

“Right, I was horrified! A prostitute! Thank god that I always made sure Riley wore a rubber....I must have scrubbed off several layers of skin when I took a shower after he told me that. It just gives me the willies!”

Spike shook his head. “It’s like the Hugh Grant thing. He had one of the world’s most beautiful and desirable women at home, yet he went to a street whore for...satisfaction. Never understood that.”

“Riley said that he did it because of, quote, 'feelings of inadequacy and confusion', unquote, that he was having,” Buffy scoffed. “Bullshit, he did it because he wanted to get blown.”

Spike nodded. “Yep, that’s about the sum of it. No further explanation is needed, really. Some blokes get frustrated when their...um, when the ‘good girl’, the one they proudly present to mum and dad, at home won‘t do it for them.”

Buffy flushed. “It’s, uh, not that I...Let’s stop talking about that part.” Sex talk with Spike was a definite no-no. “Besides the hooker, he also made out with my cousin, Faith.”

“Hunh. That was a really stupid thing for him to do.”

“Tell me about it. My cousin is a skank, I know this. She’s always tried stealing my boyfriends. Riley claims that she snuck into his bedroom and jumped him. He said that it was dark, so he didn’t know that it wasn’t me.” Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Did it go on for long? How much time did he have to figure out that it wasn’t you?”

“I called Faith from the plane, I was so mad. She said that they made out for about 15 minutes. She’s such a bitch...She happily told me that Riley only caught on that it wasn’t me when he was sucking on her ti--you know...Okay, I don’t want to talk about that anymore either.” Buffy was blushing hard.

“He really didn’t know that it wasn’t you? After a minute or so, he should have been able to discern the difference.”

“That’s what I think too.”

“I mean, a bloke knows how his woman kisses. How she smells. How her mouth and skin tastes.”

Buffy swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like you’re well rid of him, luv. It still hurts like a knife in the gut though, I know. To be betrayed by someone that you love.”

“I didn’t...love him. Well, I loved him, but I wasn’t in love with him. I thought I could, someday.”

“Weren’t you seeing that Angel guy in high school? Mr. Popularity.”

“Yeah, I did date him for a few years back then. That was over a long time ago. He left town on graduation day and I haven’t see him since.” Buffy waved dismissively. “I really did love him for a while. But there were too many obstacles in our way. The worst thing was that he kept me at arm’s length all of the time. He wouldn’t let me get too close.”

"He seemed like a tit to me. All flash and no substance. Uh, I hate to ask for any special treatment, but could I possibly sit on the couch? My ass is falling asleep in this position."

"I guess that would be alright. Don't try anything...I know karate." Buffy went over to him. She put her hands around his left bicep, helping him up onto the couch.

"I s'pose I could bite you." At her wary look, he said, "I'm not going to put up a fight, Buffy. I was joking."

"If you bite me, I'll bite you back."

Spike thought of saying that he wouldn't mind her biting him, but he didn't vocalize it. He sighed as he rested his back against the couch. "That's better. Thanks. Would it be too much to ask for a drink of water? I'm parched."

"Sure. I'll be right back," Buffy said.

She came back with a glass of water. She tipped it up to his lips, letting him take a drink.

Spike drank, gratefully, looking up into her eyes. Buffy licked her own lips while watching him drink. He had such beautiful blue eyes. Deep, gorgeous, fathomless.

Spike pulled away and licked the water from his lips. "Thanks."

"It's alright." Buffy absently reached out and gently wiped a little water that had dribbled onto his chin.

Her attitude toward him had shifted dramatically. Now she felt really bad for hurting him and holding him here. Although he still deserved it for trying to rob her home.

"Is you head still hurting a lot?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, it feels like there's a football-sized lump on the back. I don't think I'm bleeding anymore though."

"Let me look at your head." Buffy sat on the couch next to him, pulling his black wool cap off carefully. She felt horrible to see a red patch of blood and a big lump on the back of his head. A drying line of blood ran down the back of his neck. "Oh, you are bleeding!"

"I believe that I mentioned something about that before."

She touched gingerly around the wound. “I...I’m sorry. I was so scared and angry when I hit you.”

Spike winced, even her soft touches hurt. “It’s an occupational hazard. There’s always the chance that I’ll get injured or killed. I‘ve been shot, stabbed, beat up. You name it.”

“Then why the hell do you keep doing this shit?! It would only take one time, getting shot or whatever, for me to get out of that life.”

“This is what I’m good at...or I was good at it. Contrary to the position that I’m currently in. I don’t know any other way to live.”

"If you tried hard enough, you could turn your life around. Let me get my first aid kit and an icepack. I thought that you'd have gotten some medical attention before now. I'll see if I have anything that might help." Buffy patted his leg.

She took the flashlight with her to the kitchen.

Spike was happy about the nicer tone Buffy had taken with him, but the fact remained that he was being held prisoner until the cops showed up. He tried twisting his hands to loosen the ropes again. But he had to stop when it became too painful.


A few minutes later, Buffy came back with supplies. She sat back down near him.

"Okay, let me try to clean you up. Lean forward a little," Buffy instructed.

Spike leaned forward, making sure to hide his wrists. He didn't want her seeing that he'd obviously been trying to get out of the ropes.

Buffy very carefully wiped away the blood from his neck, then washed the blood from around the wound. Spike grit his teeth, hissing and muttering a British curse every now and then. She apologized but kept at her task.

After she was done with cleaning it, Buffy put a wide square gauze pad over the lump, then wrapped a strip of gauze around his head to hold it in place.

"Does that feel any better?" Buffy asked.

"Still hurts like a bitch. Got any drugs?"

"Drugs? I don't do drugs."

"I meant like aspirin. You don't look the type to have any mind-altering narcotics layin' about the place. Or even better, if you have a bottle of whiskey. That would help."

"Oh...Yeah, I can get that stuff for you."

Buffy left, coming a back a minute later with a bottle of aspirin and a bottle of Peppermint Schnapps.

"Peppermint Schnapps?" Spike asked with distaste. "That's for girls. Don't you have anything that tastes like whiskey's supposed to?"

"Take it or leave it, bub. I'm not a big drinker. This is all I have." Buffy dangled the bottle in front of him.

"It'll do." Spike grumped. "I don't trust you with that bottle...

Buffy sat next to him again, taking four aspirin out of the bottle. "I won't whack you again. You have blonde hair now. That's different."

Spike said, "I like the way it looks."

"It does....flatter you," she admitted. "It brings out the blue in your eyes and makes your bone structure more prominent."

"Thanks," Spike said looking at her. "I know that you don't have to do any of this. It's very good of you."

She bit her lip and smiled. "I'm a nice person normally. I don't go around hitting people with champagne bottles. I feel bad about that now."

Buffy unscrewed the cap of the Schnapps bottle. "Okay, I'm going to have to help you with this. Stick out your tongue."

"Why?"

"Because I want to put two pills on your tongue, then give you a swig from the bottle."

Spike stuck out his tongue. Buffy placed two pills on the center. He retracted his tongue; she held the bottle to his lips and he swallowed down the pills.

Buffy wiped excess liquid from under his bottom lip and chin again. It really felt...kinda nice to touch him. Nice as in sexy. The wicked part of her wished that she could lick it off of his chin.

"Two more to go," Buffy said.

Spike stuck his tongue out again.

'My...' Buffy thought. 'Doesn't it look long, moist and...flexible?'

They went through the same routine, with Spike swallowing the aspirin.

"Thanks Buffy, I appreciate you doing this for me. You could have just let me suffer until the cops showed up."

"You're welcome. If I knew that the police would take this long, I would have helped you sooner. You were right, Spike, it was cruel of me to just leave you like that for so long."

As they talked, Spike would lean forward for another drink of alcohol, and she would tip the bottle up to his mouth to let him drink.

"What do you do for a living?" Spike asked. "You know what I do, so it's only fair." He smiled.

"I work at a fashion boutique downtown. I'm a total girl, right down to my pink toenails," Buffy laughed. "I've always loved clothes and shoes and putting outfits together. I'd like to work in the fashion industry. But I have other things that I enjoy, like drawing and martial arts."

"You sound like a well-rounded woman. Martial arts, eh? Guess I'm lucky you didn't go all Bruce Lee on my ass."

Buffy giggled. "I was too nervous to try. I've never fought anyone outside of a classroom."

"I know a thing or two myself. Judo, Karate, Tae-Kwon-Do, Brazilian Street Fighting, Ninjitsu--"

"Wow! Holy crap! You could have killed me if we got into a fight!"

"I would have just incapacitated you by striking a pressure point, then ran. I don't beat up women. Especially not when they're as...lovely as you." Spike looked down, a small smile and a blush playing over his face.

"Th-Thanks." Buffy turned her own flushed face down and away. 'Is he coming onto me? He probably just hopes that he'll butter me up so that I'll let him go...But it's still nice to hear.'

Buffy had to force thoughts of literally buttering him up out of her head. Nothing but her, a naked Spike and a stick of butter...Mmmmm! 'Geez! I'm doing it again! Stop having sexual fantasies about Spike, dammit!' she told herself.

She gently held the icepack against the back of his head, and gave him a swig from the bottle every now and then.

Chapter 2


The sounds of thunder and hard rain were tapering off.

"Sounds like the storm might finally be letting up," Buffy said, looking out the window.

"Wonder what's taking the cops so long?" Spike wondered.

"You sound anxious for them to get here."

"It would be preferable to the waiting. I just want to get all of it over with. They'd also take the ropes off for me. Can't wait to feel the sweet kiss of metal around my wrists instead of the a tight, scratchy rope."

"I guess they'll be here soon. If you were the sort of guy who'd do it, you could have killed me 20 times over already."

"Suppose they've got their hands full tonight." Spike groaned a little. He'd shifted a wrist and regretted it as the pain flared up.

“Is your head hurting really bad?”

“Yeah, but my wrists are smarting like hell too.”

“Oh...I...guess I could loosen the ropes--just a little.”

“Uh, no. It’s fine, really.” Spike didn’t want her to see that he’d been trying to cut through the ropes and free himself.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll do it. Lean forward. Farther over this time.”

“I don’t--”

Buffy put a hand on his shoulder blade and made him bend forward. She gasped at the blood on his wrists. “Oh god! I didn’t mean to tie them that tight! You’re all bloody! I’m so sorry!”

“I’m good. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Buffy noticed that the ropes were frayed a bit. “Hey...you were trying to cut through the ropes! You were trying to get away!”

Spike growled. “What the hell do you expect me to do? Just sit back and wait for the cops to get here? If I can get away and save my ass from going to jail, I’m going to bloody well try! What would you have done in my place?!”

Buffy got up and paced. “I wouldn’t have put myself in your place! I wouldn’t have been trying to steal from anyone!”

"Are we back to this, then? Look, I'm sorry that you feel that I was betraying your trust by trying to get loose, but I had to try, Buffy! I don't want to go to prison again. Can't you understand that? I wouldn't have hurt you or tried to get revenge on you for bashing my skull in, I just would have scampered as fast as possible."

Buffy sat back down at the fireplace, looking away from him. She actually did feel hurt. "I shouldn't have showed you any kindness."

"I'm sorry, okay?! Don't you understand why I'd want to get the hell out of here?"

Buffy's head drooped. "Yes...I can understand. But..."

"But?"

"But I thought that you were being honest with me. I thought we...Were you lying all night about everything, except your identity?" Buffy felt a sort of bond with him now, after everything. Now she felt let down by him.

Spike looked at her, open and honestly, those beautiful blue eyes staring up at her. "Buffy, everything I've said is true. I have no reason to lie anymore."

"Not even to make me feel guilty enough to let you go?"

"That would be great, but that's not why I told you everything that I have. I told you because I wanted...someone to know. Nobody else out there would even know that I was gone if I died tomorrow. I'd like for someone to remember me and know who I was. Even if it isn't fondly."

Buffy looked at him sadly. "I'm sure that there's someone--"

He shook his head. "No. No family, no loved ones. Just a few friends I've made here and there. And I wasn't as open with them as I have been with you here tonight. I've tried to keep my personal history to myself. It's...not something that I'm proud of or happy to rehash."

Buffy sighed and sat next to him again. "I'm just disappointed, though I do understand you wanting to escape. I guess that I would try too. I'll clean up your wrists...okay?"

"You don't have to."

"Yes, I do. Turn your back to me a little." Buffy brought the first aid kit onto her lap.

Spike did his best to turn his back to her. It wasn't easy with his ankles being tied up too.

First, Buffy loosened the ropes. She hoped that he wouldn't try to pull out of them (though a part of her was now wishing that he could get away and run from the house, without hurting her of course). But the fight was all out of Spike by now. He stayed still as she worked, not making any overt moves.

"That's better. Thanks," he said when she retied the ropes more loosely.

"It's okay," Buffy said softly.

She cleaned up the blood from his wrists, then applied some ointment. The ropes were so loose that he could have pulled out of them at any time, but Spike didn't try. He just didn't have the strength...or will. It was crazy, but he couldn't betray Buffy like that, and possibly have to knock her down. Spike knew that the hurt look on her face if he did that would haunt him forever. He'd rather spend the rest of his days staring at a gray prison wall than be free and see that look on her face every time he closed his eyes.

Spike made a low groaning sound.

"What is it?"

"My shoulders and arms are killing me too." He laughed, "I'm just one big bloody mess."

Instinctively, Buffy started gently rubbing his arms and shoulders.

"Mmmmm," Spike moaned, turning his head to the side. "God, that feels good. It's all pins and needles. Your hands feel like heaven..."

Buffy had to close her eyes for a second at his throaty moan. It sounded soooo sexy! She felt the need to fill the void with conversation.

"So, um....You must have dreamed of being something when you were younger. What did you dream of being when you grew up?"

"Until I was 10, I wanted to be a fireman. But those dreams were dashed when I realized that I was built like a twig," Spike chuckled. "Firemen have to be big, strong and powerful to do what they do. Oh, I also realized that I have more than a bit of fear when it comes to fires. The job wouldn't all be rescuing fuzzy kitties stuck up trees."

Buffy smiled. "Then what did you want to be?"

"In high school I thought I'd like to be a writer. SciFi and Dungeons & Dragons kind of stuff. I also thought it might be neat to be a librarian like Mr. Giles."

"Oh I loved Giles! He was always in our corner when other teachers or the Principal got on our backs about anything. Very cool guy."

"Yeah, he reminded me of an older version of myself. Except that he was cool. I used to go in and help him organize the library a lot. He was always friendly."

"Hey, Giles still works at the school, you should drop by to say hi!" Buffy said without thinking. She had gotten caught up in the conversation there for a minute. The second it was out of her mouth, she mentally kicked herself.

Spike raised an eyebrow and looked wryly at her. "Perhaps you're forgetting something? Don't think the cops will be nice enough to let me out of jail for a visit with my high school librarian."

"Sorry. That was stupid of me to say....Um, so you wanted to be a librarian? That would be kind of boring, wouldn't it?"

"I loved books and I was more comfortable being cloistered away from other people, so I didn't find it boring. You also have to take into account that I was a deadly dull person."

"No you weren't. You were just smart and shy, like Willow. I wouldn't have minded if you wanted to hang out with us too."

"Yeah, right," Spike said cynically.

"I mean it. Willow liked you, that was a good enough recommendation for me," Buffy said sincerely. "Willow was, and is, an excellent judge of character."

"Now you tell me." Spike smiled and shook his head. "I might have actually had friends outside of my Dungeons & Dragons club? Hmm, I don't know about Willow being such a good judge of character though. Look at me now. My life couldn't be more bollocksed up than it is. I've made a mess of everything."

"You only went down the path that you did because of bad circumstances and a lot of seriously bad decisions. I believe that people are basically who they're going to be for the rest of their lives when they're in high school. If they're a stupid bully, or a shallow airhead, then that's what they're really like inside. You were a sensitive, shy and intellectual guy then. That's how you are on the inside now too. There's just a lot of...crap heaped on top of William."

"Interesting theory you have there, luv. I don't feel like I did back then, I'm harder. I've got a lotta scars, physical and mental. I don't think that I'm that person anymore. Like you said, William's buried under a heap."

"Maybe if you saw a therapist or something you could start to rediscover who you are. Who you were meant to be."

"What would be the point now? I'm tied up, with a huge knot on the back of my head, waiting to be taken to jail. The time for self-discovery is over."

"It's never too late, Spike."

"Sorry, but if I'm going to prison, the last thing I need is to develop my more sensitive side. When you're in jail, you need to be tough...you have to be tough or they'll tear you apart. It's like high school, only with a lot more knifings and ass-rapes."

Buffy gulped and nibbled on her lower lip. "No one ever...hurt you like that, did they?"

"No, thankfully. Only because I acted tough, let everyone know that I wasn't anyone's bitch. But it goes on all the time. The guards either don't notice or think it's amusing and let it happen."

"That's terrible! No one should have that happen to them." Buffy especially never wanted anything like that to happen to Spike.

Spike nodded. "I did get into some fights though. Pretending to be stark raving mad helps a lot to keep most of the heat off. I got quite good at acting like a psychopath. I'll have to get back into that state of mind again."

Buffy was having second, third and fourth, thoughts about having Spike arrested...


More time passed. They kept talking. About anything and everything.

It was almost 3 hours since Buffy had called the police, and they still hadn't shown up.

"Still no sign of the cops?" Spike asked when there was a pause in conversation.

Buffy peered out the window and shook her head. "Nope. Maybe they forgot."

"No, they'll get here. They're just backlogged," Spike said with a sigh.

"Are...your shoulders too stiff? I could rub them again."

He smiled softly. "I'm alright."

"Oh, okay." Buffy was a little disappointed. She had wanted to touch him again.

In a soft voice, Spike said, "I wish that you had killed me when you hit me with the bottle. It would have been a kinder fate."

"What? Why would you say that? That's a horrible thing to say!"

"Because I really am going to prison, Buffy. And for a long, long time. As I've said, this isn't the first time that I've been collared. I have a record."

"Oh."

Spike nodded. "California has that '3 strikes and your out' thing. They're going to put me away forever." They sat in silence for a few moments. Spike tried joking, "I'm going to invest in a gross of 'Soap on a Rope'."

"Spike...I didn't want you to be put away for the rest of your life. I just wanted you to get the proper punishment for what you did."

He looked down and shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "I only have myself to blame. I chose this life. Now I've got to deal with the fallout from the choices I've made."

Buffy watched the fire for a minute, thinking. His life was essentially over. It was a terrible shame.

Spike said, "You were talking before about the people I've hurt, violated. The truth is that I have thought about them. There are times when I really feel like shit for what I've done. Imagining their faces and their reactions when they discover what's happened to them. It's unsettling. I always put it out of my mind. I can't think about it. I've always tried not to be around to see the aftermath."

Buffy could tell by the look on his face that he was sincere. It did bother him.

"I wish that you would have tried to do the right thing a long time ago and stopped. It shouldn't have come to this."

"I know that now. What's done is done. No use crying over spilt milk. Hindsight is 20/20." He smiled. "Feel free to toss in a cliché of your own, I can't think of any more." He took a deep breath. "I'm not happy with everything that's happened tonight, but it was...nice to talk to you."

Buffy made a big decision at that moment. "I'll be right back."

It was probably a really stupid decision, but she was going to let Spike go. She had to call the operator again and tell them that she'd made a mistake.

She took the flashlight and went to the kitchen. Buffy picked up the phone. She closed her eyes when there was still no dial tone.

"Shit."

But it had been a few hours since she had called. Maybe the cops really weren't going to come at all? She took a sharp knife from the silverware drawer, then went back out to the living room. She walked over to Spike, then kneeled on the floor in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Spike asked with a bit of anxiety. They had been getting along very well, but he couldn't help but worry seeing her coming at him with a knife.

Buffy started cutting through the rope around his ankles. "I'm letting you go."

He blinked. "You're letting me...go? As in 'free to go'?"

"Yes." Buffy sliced all the way through the rope.

Spike made a relieved sound and moved his legs apart. "Are you sure? I mean, of course I want to leave, but..."

"I'm sure." She then cut the ropes on his hands. "Please promise me that you'll try to change your ways, Spike. You deserve a better life than this."

He brought his arms in front of him, gently rubbing his rope-burned wrists. He looked into her eyes. "I promise, Buffy. I'll try. This was my big wake up call. It won't be easy, but I'll try."

"Good. I hope you mean it."

"I do." Spike took her right hand and raised it to his mouth, lightly kissing her knuckles. "Thank you, Buffy. I don't deserve this, but I'm grateful for it. You're an amazing person."

Buffy swallowed hard. She wanted him to kiss more than her hand...

"I think that you are -- or could be -- too. That's why I'm doing this. Now...you'd better go before the police really do show up."

Spike stood up, standing in place and massaging his thighs. "I need to the feeling back in my legs. I feel all wobbly."

"Hurry, Spike. You need to go," she said nervously. Buffy got down on her knees and started rubbing his calves to help (not that she wanted to touch his legs -- perish the thought).

"Th-Thanks," Spike said.

She just smiled up at him.

He gulped when her hands went above his knee. "Uh, okay. That's good. I think I can walk now."

Buffy took the flashlight and walked him to the front door.

They stood at the door, looked at each other and each took a breath.

"Well...good luck, Spike. I hope you can make a better life for yourself after tonight," Buffy said.

"Me too. I can't tell you how thankful I am. You had every right to treat me the way you did in the beginning, but...I didn't expect...Thank you."

Buffy nodded and smiled. She opened the front door.

Buffy and Spike froze. Two police officers were just walking up onto the porch.

"Ma'am, I'm Officer Jones. This is Officer Garcia. Are you Buffy Summers?"

"Uh...Yes."

"You called earlier about a prowler in your house? You tied him up."

Buffy nodded, her mind going a mile a minute.

Officer Garcia said, "We're sorry it took us so long to respond. Things have just been crazy in town tonight."

"Oh, th-that's alright," Buffy replied.

Officer Jones stepped up. "Is the perp still inside?" He eyed Spike.

Spike wanted to say hello and act nonchalant, but he was so petrified that he had no spit left to talk.

Buffy laughed nervously. "Oh, it's the craziest thing, officers! You won't believe this! My boyfriend, William, here," she put a hand on Spike, "thought that I wouldn't be back until tomorrow from my trip and he wanted to set up a romantic surprise for me when I got back into town. I heard someone moving around downstairs and assumed that I was being robbed. I hit him from behind with a bottle, I didn't recognize him. I feel just awful!"

Spike looked curiously at Buffy, but then smiled at the cop. "Yeah, my...little filly packs a helluva wallop!"

Buffy put her arms around Spike and kissed his cheek, looking at him lovingly. "I'm so sorry, Sugar Bear. I thought you were a bad guy. I hope that you can forgive me."

Spike looked into her eyes, smiling softly. "Consider yourself forgiven, pet."

Garcia shook his head. "So I take it that no one's pressing charges?"

Buffy and Spike shook their heads no.

Buffy said, "Well, I guess we have a story to tell the grandkids one of these days."

"Do you need medical attention, sir?" Jones asked Spike.

"Nah, I'm alright. I'll go to the hospital tomorrow for a once over. Thanks."

The cops looked a little suspicious, as if they thought that there was some funny business going on.

Buffy smiled. "I'm really sorry that you had to come out here for nothing. I know how busy all of you must be tonight. I tried calling the operator back after I realized the huge mistake that I'd made, but the phone was out again."

Officer Jones nodded. "Yeah, there's been a lot of damage from the storm...Are you sure everything's alright, Miss Summers?"

"Besides feeling like total crap for hurting my boyfriend? Everything's just fine, thanks." Buffy hugged Spike, looking up at him adoringly. “I’ll be making this up to your for the rest of my life."

“I’m sure that you--” Spike started to say.

Buffy suddenly kissed him, full on the lips. Spike’s eyes were wide at first, but he put his arms around her and returned the kiss after only a moment.

The cops fidgeted, waiting for the kiss to end. But it kept going on.

Buffy did it to convince the cops that her story was true, but damn! His lips were yummy. It was one of the best kisses she had ever experienced.

Spike was thinking the same things as Buffy. He could kiss her forever.

Officer Garcia cleared his throat loudly. “Well, I guess we’ll be going then, if there’s no trouble.”

Buffy and Spike pulled away from each other, licking their lips lightly and gazing at each other.

Spike said, “Uh, yeah. Thanks, Officer. Sorry about the confusion.”

“Try to be more careful in the future, miss,” Jones said. “This could have turned out real bad.”

Buffy nodded. “Oh, I’ll be more careful from now on! I feel just awful!”

“Have a...safe night.” The cops walked back to their car.

“You too!” Buffy said cheerfully.


The cops whispered to each other as they walked.

Jones said, “I wouldn’t want to be that guy! That woman’s probably going to end up killing him one of these days. I don't care how cute she is, I'd be running for my life.”

Garcia agreed. “Poor bastard. I wouldn‘t get mixed up with a loopy girl like her if I were him.”


Buffy and Spike smiled and waved at them. When the cops drove away, they both let out relieved breaths. They went back in the house and closed the door.

“Shit, that was close!” Spike said. “I didn’t think that they were buying it.”

“That’s why I kissed you.” She blushed. “I thought that it might help.”

Spike looked at Buffy, tilting his head to the side. “You didn‘t have to do that."

"Yes, I did. I don't want you to go to prison for the rest of your life, Spike. You made a mistake -- a series of mistakes -- in your life. But you can still turn it around. You're so smart and you really do have a good heart, I can tell. You don't have to live this kind of life anymore."

"Buffy, I don't know if I can lead a normal life."

"I believe in you, Spike." Buffy lightly touched his face. "I can feel that you have the strength inside of you to change."

Spike closed his eyes and put his hand over hers. He kissed the inside of her wrist. The contact of his lips made Buffy break out in goosebumps. So warm and soft.

Spike said softly, "No one's ever believed in me before. Maybe my mum, but that's it."

"Well, I do. You're free to go now, Spike. You can leave."

"What if...I want to stay a bit longer?" His left eyebrow arced gently. "Would that be alright with you?"

She smiled and nodded slowly. "I'd...like you to stay." Buffy wanted to kiss him again.

Their eyes darkened as they leaned into each other. Their lips touched, sending little shockwaves through their bodies.

They moaned and sank deeper into the kiss.

"Mmmm, you taste like a big candy cane," Buffy moaned.

"The Schnapps," Spike chuckled, kissing her more deeply.

Buffy’s hands moved up his body and into his spiky hair. She touched the very sore wound on the back of his head. Spike grunted into her mouth, pulling away and putting his hand to the back of his head with a hiss.

Buffy put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god! I’m sorry! Sorry! I forgot about your head!”

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re not okay, Spike. You need to go to the hospital.”

“I’ll go tomorrow.”

“No,” Buffy said with determination. “You need to go right now.”

“But--”

“No buts. Please, I feel like shit for hurting you. I want to make sure that you are okay.” She pouted and blinked her big green eyes slowly.

Spike sighed. “Alright. If it means that much to you, I’ll go now.”

“Let me get my keys.”

“Wait, you don’t have to take me. I have my own car. I can drive.”

“No way. You can’t drive after being hit on the head.”

“I’m fine, Buffy.”

“No, you will wait for me to get my keys. Then I will drive you to the hospital. Understand?”

“You’re a pushy little thing, ain’t ya?”

“I get what I want. I can be very forceful when I have to be.”

Spike got a wicked smirk on his face and stuck the tip of his tongue out a bit. “Is that so? I like forceful women. Bloody sexy.”

Buffy smiled back. “Keep it in your pants, Spike. You’re going to the hospital,” she said with a little giggle.

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