To Hell with the rest of the world, Buffy was his. Spike knew that he could die right now and know that he'd had everything he had ever wanted or needed in his life... her love.

Her head lay against his chest contentedly. She could hear his heart beating out a steady rhythm against her ear. The only question left was why had she waited so long to tell him how she felt? She sighed as he stroked her hair with a gentle hand. His other arm remained wrapped protectively around her form where it curled against him.

"Promise me something, Will," she said, her voice full of trepidation.

"Anything, Kitten." He wondered what could be making her sound so frightened.

"Promise me you'll never leave me," she pleaded. "Because I just... I just can't go through that again. I just can't give you all of my heart and watch you leave."

She tilted her head up to read his eyes. She could see the question in them.

"They all leave, Will.. my Dad... my friends... my Mom... I..." She tried to compose herself, fight off the threatening tears. "I couldn't bear it if you left me, too, Will. That would hurt the most."

"Shh, Love," he soothed her. "Cross my heart. I'll never leave you. You're my world."

She smiled and lifted her lips to meet his. Her kiss was shy and slow. Her eyes rolled closed as his lips yielded to hers. He felt the tip of her tongue as she licked at his bottom lip with a kittenish innocense. She was bloody perfect. She tasted like sunshine and starlight. She was the living, breathing definition of chiaroscuro. She was the light that shone bright in the darkness, guiding him home. And she was the dark mystery, a contradiction of everything she seemed. He deepened the kiss as his hands slid under her shirt to stroke the warm skin at the base of her spine.

She moaned and arched her back, pressing her breasts into his chest in the process.

"Take it off," she whispered as her eyes met his.

His hands were clutching the hem of her tank top and he didn't need to be told twice. He nodded and lifted the soft, grey material over her head. The lacy confection of deep, cherry red she wore beneath it barely concealed her pebbled nipples. His breath hitched as he traced his hand down her cheek, her neck, stopping to run his fingers across her collarbone before gliding them over her lace-covered breast. She mewled out her pleasure when he began to scrape a fingertip across her hardened nipple.

"That what you want, Kitten?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. "You want me to touch you here?" He cupped his hand over the soft mound, letting his palm caress its firm pink center. "Like this?"

"Mmm... Oh, God... yes, Will," she whimpered.

He kissed her again, this time more greedily. He needed to taste her. He needed to touch her everywhere. He had never felt this way in his life. Want was an easy thing. So was desire. But Buffy awakened a need in him he hadn't even been aware of until that moment. And he needed her to own him. He needed to be completely hers.

She straddled his lap and gasped when she felt him already hard beneath her. There was no turning back now. And she didn't want to. She needed him in the most carnal way. She needed him to love her completely.

Her hands slipped to the bottom of his t-shirt and she lifted it slowly. She felt his stomach against hers as the smattering of light hair tickled her. She let her hands lightly brush his nipples as she moved the shirt further up his chest. He lifted his arms and helped her remove the remainder of the shirt.

So, Soul to Soul
I know how it feels
Between lover to lover (we're gonna be)
So, Soul to Soul
Like a magnet to steel
Just like lover to lover (we're gonna be)...

She breathlessly moved her hands over the expanse of his bare chest. He smiled as he watched her fascination with his body. He leaned in to kiss her forehead before moving his hands down her back to find the clasp of her bra. He silently asked for permission and she responded with an encouraging smile. His hands fumbled like an inexperienced schoolboy's as he unlatched the hooks. She had reduced him to this... to a puddle of his own desire. Her eyes were wide and trusting as he slid the straps down her arms. She let the bra fall between them before moving it to the side.

She chewed her lip in nervous anticipation to his reaction. She wasn't naive. She knew that he had been with other women. And a part of her worried that she wouldn't measure up. She had no idea how wrong she was. He was enthralled by her innocent beauty. He revered her like a porcelain doll... awed by her beauty, surprised by her strength.

She lay against him needing desperately to feel his skin against hers. His hands traced a line up her spine and tangled into the soft hair at the nape of her neck. She could feel him harden even more beneath her.

"Tell me to stop, Buffy," he told her, searching her eyes for any doubt about what they were about to do.

"Don't stop," she whispered instead.

"Tell me you don't want me," he challaneged.

"I want you," she breathed, slipping her hand down between them to stroke him through his clothes.

He moaned his pleasure into her waiting mouth as her hand sought for the waistband of his sweatpants. She curled her fingers around the elastic as his tongue tickled the roof of her mouth.

"Tell me you're not ready," he tried, one last time.

"I'm so very ready," she swore with a penetrating gaze.

"I need to hear you say it, Buffy. I need..." His thoughts slipped away as her hand slid inside his pants to find that there was no other barrier between it and his cock. "Oh, God, Buffy..."

"I love you, Will," she whispered into his ear. Her hand was deliciously stroking the silky skin of his shaft as she flicked her tongue into his ear. "I want you to make love to me. Now, Will. I need you now."

Buffy giggled as Spike slid the loofah down her back, tickling her spine in the most wonderful way. They had managed to crawl out of bed a little before noon after another round of lovemaking. The power had come back on sometime before sun-up and the house was like a meat locker from when Spike had lowered the thermostat the night before.

"Nothing like a hot shower to take off the chill, Pet." Spike grinned as he slid the loofah around to her belly.

"Mmm-hmm," she agreed. "Definately heats things up."

The two were so rapt in each other that they didn't hear the deadbolt turn. They didn't hear Max yip excitedly as Cordelia and Harmony entered the house. They didn't hear the snide remarks being exchanged over the presence of a pair of breakfast dishes still on the table with the remains of egg and toast still sitting on them.

"Good grief! He's probably got that psycho slut, Drusilla here. Remember her? That whacko that was in his band?" Cordy asked Harmony with a roll of her eyes.

"I thought she was that Ox guy's girlfriend," Harmony said with a furrowed brow as she walked into Cordy's room. The clothes on the bed looked like Buffy's. But she'd gone home Saturday morning, hadn't she?

"Oz. And no. Spike said she was 'shagging' anything with a penis," Cordy called from the living room. "He probably has one of those."

Harmony walked back into the living room with a puzzled look on her face.

"Cord," she began tentatively. "Didn't Buffy say she was going home yesterday morning?"

"Yeah," Cordy told her, spying the bottle of brandy on the coffee table. She picked it up and walked it back over the the wet bar. "I kind of feel bad for subjecting her to Spike and then blowing her off when we were supposed to go to the beach yesterday."

"You do?" Harmony asked, surprised.

Cordy was thoughtful for a moment.

"No," she admitted with a shrug and a smirk. "Not so much. But I feel better now that I've said that I did."

Spike reached down to turn off the water and stepped out of the shower to retrieve a towel. He wrapped it around his waist, still dripping wet, grabbed another and set to rubbing Buffy's heated skin.

"God, I'm such a slut," she giggled.

He continued rubbing at her skin and hair.

"Why would you say that, Kitten?" he asked, a little confused.

"Because all I can think about is crawling back into bed with you," she grinned.

He wrapped the towel around her and pulled her to him. He kissed her tenderly and then lifted her up, making her laugh even louder.

"I supposed that can be arranged," he told her with a wicked leer that thrilled her.

They were still giggling as he walked out into the hall with her in his arms.

"Holy. Shit."

He just about dropped the girl in his arms to the floor at the sound of his step-sister's shocked voice.

"Buffy?" Harmony shrieked incredulously.

"Oh my God," Buffy whispered, burying her head in the crook of Spike's neck.

"Just what the Hell is going on here?" Cordy demanded to know. "And before I forget... EUW!" she yelled.

Spike set Buffy back down and told her to go get dressed. She obediently padded down the hall and into Cordy's bedroom, trying her best to avoid the heated glare being sent her way by the none-too-pleased brunette.

"I'm going to get dressed," he told her. "And then you, me and Buffy are going to sit down and suss this out."

Cordy opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Spike again.

"It'll keep 'til we're dressed, Cor."

He went into his room and shut the door behind hm.

Buffy threw on her clothes and then began stuffing her things back into her overnight bag. She was so embarrassed. It wasn't her relationship with Spike that she was flustered about, but getting caught coming out of the shower with him, well, that was a little embarrassing. She shuddered at the thought of having to face the Vapid Inquisition.

She walked back into the living room to find Spike already sitting on the couch waiting for her. Cordy was sitting on the other end of the sectional with her arms crossed in front of her chest, clearly closed off to hearing any logical explanation as to what her step-brother and her somewhat friend were doing coming out of the bathroom clothed only in towels. Harmony was sitting beside her trying to look interested in her cuticles.

"I don't even think I want to know what's going on," Cordelia told them, thoroughly disgusted.

Buffy scooted close to Spike and tried to relax as he draped his arm protectively around her shoulders. This was so not going to be fun.

"How long has this been going on?" she wanted to know.

"It, uh... just kind of happened last night," Buffy stammered.

"Uh-huh." Cordy's eyebrow shot up indicating that they would have to do a little better than that.

"I've cared about Buffy for quite some time now, Cordelia," he told her. He felt Buffy's hand move to his thigh and give it an encouraging squeeze. "If anything, Pet, we've you to thank for getting us together."

"Me?" she shrieked. "Me? Don't go blaming me for this little mess!"

"I don't know, Cord. They are kind of cute together," Harmony said, absently picking at the frayed edge of her shorts.

"Euw! Knock it off already," Cordy scowled. "I'd like to hear just how the Hell you think I'm responsible for this freakin' nightmare."

"You invite Buffy over every weekend and then you and Harmony take off with your boyfriends," Spike explained to her. "She intercepts your calls, she takes care of Max and then you blow her off for something better. Then I get home to find her studying on the couch or watching TV by herself. We started talking. We have a lot in common. We enjoy each other's company. Isn't that why you're with Peaches?"

"Not particularly." Cordy was still making her 'euw' faces. "He has a nice car, he's captain of the football team, his dad owns VisionCorp Sunnydale and, fortunately for him, he has a pretty big di--"

"Dictionary!" Harmony interjected when she saw Buffy's face go pink. "He has a pretty big dictionary and we go over there because he, uh, he tutors us. We're terrible with vocabulary."

As true as the need for a tutor was, Spike and Buffy both knew that wasn't the reason that Cordy and Harmony went over to Angel's house.

"Hello? I was talking," Cordy said, casting a hateful glare at her blonde counterpart.

"Was just trying to help, Cord. You know... hard to make with the 'euw, this is so wrong and gross' if you're the pot."

"Huh?"

Sometimes Cordelia was certain that Harmony was even more stupid than she appeared.

"As in Pot," she said, turning to Cordy. "Meet Mr. and Mrs. Kettle," she finished, turning toward Spike and Buffy.

"Whatever," Cordy said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I just don't even know what to say."

"Then say nothing for a change," Buffy managed to grind out. "I love Will. I've loved him since I was 12 years old. And Will loves me. You have Angel and you have your friends and I've been aware for quite some time now that I'm really not one of them anymore."

"I'm hurt that you would say that, Buffy," Cordy pouted.

"No, you're not. You're insensitive. And shallow," Buffy told her. "To hurt would imply that you actually cared. And we both know that the only person that Cordelia Chase cares about is Cordelia Chase."

Cordelia tried to milk the hurt act a little more. She turned to Harmony and asked her if she'd call her shallow.

"No," Harmony said defensively. "Not to your face."

This earned her a few grins and giggles from the blonde duo sitting across from her. What the Hell? They were cute. Spike wasn't as 'euw' as Cordy made him out to be. He had great hair. And a pretty decent bod. And the accent was totally yummy. Harmony would be a liar if she said that she'd never thought of him as date-able herself.

"You're just all 'euw' because he's your step-brother, Cordy," Harmony said in Spike's defense. "I mean, take away the fact that he was a total dork with his shaggy, brown hair and his geeky glasses when you first met him. And the freakin' tweedy clothes his dad dressed him in. It's not like that was totally his fault. And the way he used to stutter all the time. And--"

"You're not doing me any favors here, love," Spike smirked.

"I'm just saying, you know... take away the William we met five years ago, and Spike's kind of hot in a totally 'Billy Idol used to be cool' kind of way," Harmony continued.

Harmony didn't know what had gotten into her, but something in her suddenly felt protective of Spike and Buffy. She supposed it could have been the way Cordy expected her to follow after her like a puppy dog. Or maybe it was the fact that she realized that she really liked Gunn even though Cordy wanted to fix her up with Angel's cousin, Connor.

She had told Cordy over and over that she had no interest in hanging out with Connor, yet Cordy told Angel to set it up anyhow. And he did. It was beyond uncomfortable sitting there with Gunn while Cordy and Angel pointed out Connor's finer points as if Harmony could not make her own decisions when it came to the guys she dated. She had plenty of experience in the boyfriend department. She'd gone through one a week before she met Gunn.

"You're supposed to be on my side!" Cordy yelled.

"Like you were on my side when you tried to push Connor on me right in front of my Brown-Sugar-Bear?" Harmony retaliated.

"I was trying to help you! Gunn's popularity is totally on the decline since he lost that football scholarship to UCLA. He's just another UC Sunnydale loser now!" Cordy spat.

"Well, I guess that makes me another UC Sunnydale loser, too," Harmony told her in a defeated voice. "I mean, if I can even get in at all after screwing off with you all year." She turned to Spike and Buffy, angling for sympathy. "My grades totally suck. I'm barely graduating and my parents have threatened to cut me off if I don't get into some college. They'd even be happy with community college at this point," she admitted sadly.

"Oh, and now the fact that you're a moron is my fault, too?" Cordy asked, her eyes narrowed onto her friend's, daring her to agree.

"I didn't say that, Cordelia. All I'm saying is that maybe I should have been using Buffy for tutoring instead of phone screener all these weekends," she said. She shot an apologetic glance at Buffy. "I mean, I should have not been using you at all, but... I'm way so bad at this. Please tell me you know what I mean."

Buffy looked up at the smirk on Spike's face and shook her head.

"I know what you mean, Harmony," she told the cheerleader.

What the Hell. Harmony had come to their defense in her own twisted way. She was just as much a victim of Cordelia's tyranny as anyone else, Buffy supposed.

"Are we done here?" Spike suddenly asked. "Because I'd like to take my girl to drop off her things before we head on over to band practice."

"Ugh!" Cordy growled, disgusted. "Whatever! Just don't go doing anything naked when I'm around. Or kissing. Don't do that in front of me either. Or any other perverted touching of any kind. And is there any room in this house I don't need to fumigate..."

Cordy was still prattling on as Spike leaned down to press a long kiss to Buffy's smiling lips.

"Euw! Do you two not listen at all?" she shouted. "I said to stop making with the kissage! Gross! And stop it! STOP it!"

Buffy and Spike ignored her loud protests and continued nuzzling and nipping at each other.

"Oh, God. I just... I give up!"

Cordy stormed into her bedroom, threw Buffy's bag into the living room and slammed the door behind her. Harmony giggled as she watched the blonde pair whisper endearments to each other.

"Can I catch a ride home with you guys?" she asked, interrupting them. She only lived a block over from Buffy.

"Yeah, but I call shotgun," Buffy grinned.

The back door to the Bronze was propped open when Spike and Buffy arrived. She caught a glimpse of a dark-haired man as he carried a handful of cymbal stands and a long, thin gig bag into the building.

"Xander," Spike called after him. "Wait up."

Xander stopped and waited for them to catch up. He gave Buffy the once-over and then grinned at Spike.

"And who might this be?" he asked a little too eagerly as they continued walking together.

He set his hardware down when he got to the stage, propping the stands up against the back wall of the drum riser. He laid the small gig bag next to his already set-up shells. Buffy figured he carried his sticks and brushes in the small bag. It looked about the right size.

"This might be my girlfriend, Buffy," Spike told him with a warning glare.

"Might be?" Xander pressed. He shot Buffy a mischievous smile. "That might mean she's available, then."

"I don't think so, Bub," Buffy teased right back. "And what's with this might stuff, huh Will?"

Spike tightened his grip on her waist and growled softly into her neck before lightly nipping it.

"Mine?" he asked making her giggle.

"So barbaric," she breathed. "Of course. Yours."

Spike turned back to Xander who was busily twisting the bolts around the snare head with a chrome key. He tapped and made a face before tightening down the head a little more.

"Buffy, this is Xander Harris," he introduced. "Harris, my girlfriend Buffy Summers."

Xander smiled up at her, continuing to tune his snare drum.

"Well, any girlfriend of Spike's is a girlfriend of mine," he said with a wink. Spike scowled and he amended his earlier remark. "Emphasis on the friend part, of course. And you're obviously a girl. Girl. And friend. Not without the space between."

Buffy nodded her head to indicate she got it as she watched him continue to coax the head even tighter.

"You should try Evans," she told him.

He looked up, puzzled.

"Yeah, if you're looking for a crisper tone out of your snare. Evans makes a really good dry head. Gives it a real nice snap. More so than the Remo hydraulic you're using," she observed.

Xander dropped the key on the ground and stared up at her slack-jawed.

"I,uh, play snare in marching band," she explained quickly. "Just an observation. Don't mind me. I didn't mean to imply that--"

"I love you," Xander squeaked out and then darted his eyes to meet Spike's. "I love her, dude. If you ever break up, can I have her?"

Spike shook his head and chuckled. Break up? He had no intention of ever ending his romance with Buffy. She was the one. Harris would have to go find his own girl.

"At least tell me you have a sister just like you," Xander pleaded.

"Nope. Just me," Buffy said apologetically.

"Well, I'm glad you like her so much, Mate," Spike said, deciding to test the waters with Xander. "I was thinking we might give her a go on vocals."

Xander looked from Spike to Buffy and back to Spike again.

"She sings, too?" he asked.

"Who sings, too?" asked a young man with blue-tipped hair.

"Oz, good to see you Mate," Spike smiled at his bass player. "This is my girlfriend, Buffy. Buffy, Daniel Osbourne... Oz."

Oz laid his gig bag on the stage and turned to extend his hand to Buffy. He was about the same height as she was with spiky light red-hair with cobalt blue tips.

"Buffy," she nodded with a tight smile. "Short for...?"

"For Buffy. Just Buffy," she told him.

"Hmm.... interesting," he said with a smirk. "Right, then. You sing?"

"That's what Will tells me," she joked.

Oz nodded.

"Will is...?"

"Me, you stupid git," Spike ground out at him.

"Riiiiight... right." Oz was nodding his head looking at the two blondes, his face etched with curiosity.

"You!" he suddenly said, pointing at Buffy. "The Damned concert."

He had an uncharacteristically huge grin on his face. She was the girl who had made Drusilla look like an ass. He'd had to hear Dru bitch about Little Miss Sunshine all the way home. He definately liked Buffy.

"Hmm," he said, his face pensive once again. "Good. Very good."

He began busying himself with his bass rig while Spike filled in Buffy on the finer aspects of Oz's laconic demeanor.

"He's a man of few words, but he always makes his point loud and clear," he explained.

"So... I should take it that he likes me?" Buffy asked, hopeful.

"Oh, yeah. He definately likes you, Baby," Spike told her. "You're the girl who knocked Dru down a few pegs. Remember?"

Buffy remembered.

"Spike!"

Buffy's head turned to identify the female voice that was squealing her boyfriend's name. A slight red-head came bounding up tugging a shy blonde girl behind her.

She let go of the girl's hand long enough to pull Spike into a warm hug. The other girl gave him a quick hug, too, and then turned to Buffy with a little smile.

"I'm Tara, Willow's girlfriend," she told Buffy, not wanting to let the girl think that either of them was after her new boyfriend. "You must be Buffy."

"I am," Buffy smiled back. There was something about Tara that immediately put her at ease.

Willow turned to her and pulled her into a hug. Friendly thing, she was. She looked at Buffy with a wide smile and then back to Spike.

"Oh, Spike! She's perfect! Just perfect!" she gushed. She turned to Tara and grabbed her hand. "Isn't she just perfect, Baby? They look so good together!"

Tara smiled and nodded in agreeance. They were a very attractive couple. Willow was just so happy that her best friend had finally found a girl who was worthy of him.

"And I can tell that she loves you, Spike. It just radiates off of her!" She turned back to her girlfriend again. "Can't you see it in her aura, Baby? It just glows. Look at the both of them!"

"Willow and Tara are Wiccan," Spike leaned down and whispered to Buffy. "Into all that New Age mumbo jumbo... crystals and spells and auras and all that rot."

"It's not rot, Spike!" Willow said in defense of herself. "Haven't we talked about you being more open-minded before, Mister?" She looked back at Buffy who was a little overwhelmed by the red-head's exuberance. "Buffy is open-minded. Just look at her! You can tell. She has honest eyes. And a pure energy buzzing around her."

Spike looked up toward the stage to see Oz and Xander almost done tuning and setting up.

"What's that, Lads? You're ready to play?" he called, pretending that they had said something to him. Anything to end this conversation about the abracadabra and hocus-pocus of his relationship with Buffy.

"Huh?" Xander asked, looking at him with brows furrowed in puzzlement.

"Salvaton," Oz said, turning his head back to look at Xander. He winked. "That's us. Yeah. Ready," he called back to Spike.

Willow and Tara took a seat at the high-top to the left of the stage.

"Come on, Buffy," Willow called. "Come sit with us and we can catch up while they do their musical thingy."

Buffy found herself bombarded with a litany of questions as the guys worked out a few new songs. Willow wanted to guess how they met. And then she wanted to know if she was even close.

"Oh, you met through Spike's step-sister?" she frowned. "Hmm... I just saw you meeting in a park. You know, you were sitting on a bench reading something by Anne Rice and he nearly tripped over his own feet when he saw you sitting there alone. So, that didn't happen, huh?"

"Not so much," Buffy admitted. "But he did come sit on the couch with me while I was doing my senior project on Dylan Thomas the other night. And we went to the beach the next day."

Buffy didn't know what it was about Willow that made her want to make her feel better.

"Oh, well... that's kind of... not the same, but hey. Books and outdoorsiness. So, maybe a little," Willow tried with a weak smile.

"Why don't you let her tell it, Baby?" Tara suggested. She smiled timidly at Buffy. "If you want to tell us, Buffy."

"I met Will five years ago when his Dad married my friend Cordelia's Mom," she told them.

"Was it love at first sight?" Willow asked excitedly. "I bet it was!"

"It was," Buffy admitted.

"Ooh! Goody!" Willow grinned. "I knew it! I have a way with these things."

Buffy couldn't help but giggle a little at Willow's excitability. She couldn't knock the girl for being so happy for her best friend. Willow seemed genuinely thrilled about Spike and Buffy's new relationship.

"And he loved you, too! But he just didn't know how to say it, right?" she guessed.

"Something like that," Buffy told her. "We just have a lot in common. And we've been able to become good friends over the years."

"What is it you love most about Spike?" she asked. "Is it his smile? Or, oh! His voice! That accent is pretty yummy. And I'm sure you've heard him sing! Or I know! Those gorgeous blue eyes of his!"

"His heart," Buffy stated firmly. There was no doubt about what she loved most about Spike. "It's always been Will's heart. Since the day I met him."

"Wow! So, that is just too cute, you know. Will. I don't think I've ever heard anyone call him that before," Willow told her.

Tara just gave Buffy a sympathetic smile as her girlfriend prattled on.

"She means well," Buffy heard Tara say. Her lips never moved, though. Her eyes widened as Tara winked at her. She realized that Tara was speaking to her telepathically! "Don't ask how," Tara silently answered, sensing Buffy's question. "I just can."

Spike set down his guitar and looked over to Buffy, shooting her his most apologetic smile. He could tell she was squirming a bit under Willow's nonstop banter. His best friend meant well. He knew that. But he also knew that she could be a little intense at times.

"I should probably go save Buffy from Red," he sighed to his bandmates.

"Or you could fill us in on when Buffy even happened," Xander replied.

"I could do that," Spike told him.

Oz had noticed that his strings were beginning to sound a little dead and took the opportunity to start unwinding them from the pegs at the headstock. May as well change them while he was thinking about it.

"Yeah. Do that," he nodded, not looking up from his task.

"Met her through Cordelia about five years ago," he told them, digging through his pockets for his cigarettes and a lighter. "When Da married Honey." He pulled out a cigarette and put it between his lips catching a raised eyebrow from Buffy. He took it back out and stuck it back into the pack unlit.

Honey. Xander remembered her all too well. Spike's step-mother scared him. She was all flirty and coy and it had creeped him out to no end.

"Take it you remember Honey," Spike smirked when he caught the sour look on Xander's face. "Anyhow, the Cheerleader's been using my girl for years. Invites her over and then leaves her to play secretary so that her mum doesn't catch on that she's out whoring around. She's been doing it since they were freshmen."

"As in high school?" Xander asked. "Just how old is Buffy?"

"Old enough. She graduates in a few months. Smarter and more mature than most of the birds at UC already," he said in her defense. "She's... she's not like other girls, Mate. She's..."

He wasn't sure if he should divulge the information to his friends. Then he looked over to where Buffy was sitting between Willow and Tara. She was laughing and had clearly been accepted by the two women.

"She's the one, Mate," he admitted.

Oz looked up from his bass and stared blankly at him. That had come out of nowhere. Not that Spike hadn't dated a few interesting girls since they'd met. There had been that girl Amy from Psych class freshman year. Too bad she had been a psycho. Then there was Dawn. He'd freaked out when little miss innocent had been busted for being an underage stripper at the Lucky Lady. That killed that relationship pronto. There had been Darla. She had seemed normal enough, but had paired off with Dru after a gig one night. There went her morals. Right out the window.

Spike had decidedly had very bad luck with women since Oz knew him. He looked over at Buffy and sized her up quickly. She was chatting animatedly with the other girls, looking over at Spike from time to time with nothing but love and adoration in her eyes. So, she was a little on the young side. She looked incredibly innocent, too. But Oz decided that there was something very wise about her, as well. She was confident but not cocky. And she was friendly without being overbearing. And she hadn't made a snarky little remark about his brusque use of the English language. Most people usually had something to say in response to his curt replies and direct questions. Hmmm, he thought. She is the one.

Buffy sat nervously at the edge of the stage, microphone in hand. She had sung in high school chorus dozens of time. She had been cast as the lead in musicals since she was a freshman. She had even done a solo when it came time for solo and ensemble. This wasn't like any of those things. This scared her to death.

Sure, singing 'Look to the Rainbow' at the community center's performance of "Finnegan's Rainbow" had been scary at the age of 12. But she had Tucker Wells on stage to sing with her. Now, even with Spike right behind her, she was scared to death. And he wanted her to sing one of Red Rain's original songs.

Spike came to sit beside her, resting his guitar against the stage at his side. She looked like she was going to start hyperventilating any second.

"Kitten?"

She looked down at the microphone in her hands. He reached over and tilted her chin toward him, willing her to meet his eyes.

"It's just a song. Just like you did in the car yesterday on the way to the beach," he assured her. "Think about yesterday. Or pretend you're flitting around singing 'I Guess I'll Miss the Man' or some other showtune," he grinned referring toher role in Pippin.

She smiled and nodded. She was being ridiculous. She knew that.

"You guys ready?" Xander called from behind his kit.

"You ready, Kitten?" Spike asked her.

She nodded and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips before grabbing his guitar and finding his place on the stage.

"She's ready," he informed his mates.

She heard the click of Xander's Vic Firths as he counted off the song. The low thud of Oz's bass and the crunch of Spike's guitar fell in effortlessly. Buffy's heart raced as she counted the measures to her post. One more, deep breath, eyes closed... and she was in Spike's DeSoto with her hair blowing in the breeze and the radio screaming in the background.

What are you taking

Misleading again

And that face that you're making

You better clean it when you can...

Spike had given her a copy of Red Rain's demo as soon as he had gotten the box back from the little studio on the East side of Sunnydale. It had cost him about four weekends worth of gig money, but he had been so proud as he held the cassette out to her. A grand total of eight songs were on it and she loved every one of them.

We're gonna suffer

Inquisition from the pharisees

I know you didn't mean to move by

And leave me to take the blame

Let them right what was left of me...

She felt the music thrumming in her blood and in her bones. The words tumbled from her lips of their own accord. That's how it always was with Buffy and music. It infiltrated her and used her as a vessel. The writer's emotions became her own. If the words were laced with anger, they became her fury. If they were laced with love, they became her joy.

And the reason I get this

The reason I get this way

I don't know, I don't know...

She was angry. And her voice was edged with desperation. She knew exactly what this song was about. She had felt every emotion at one time or another in her own life. She had stood by and been passed over again and again. And she had felt the anger roll off of her in waves in response to the stimuli. This was a giant 'fuck you' to everyone who had used her, to everyone who thought that they could embed themselves in her life and under her skin and then walk away without ever looking back.

Come in, relax and have a seat

You look sort of nervous and ashamed

I know you've never seen the fall guy

Take a dive and wear the scar

But trophy the pain...

Fuck you, Daddy! Fuck you, Cordy! Fuck you, Mrs. Calendar! Fuck you, Mommy! Buffy felt the bitter bile rising in her throat and completely lost herself as she gripped the microphone and belted out her pain.

You better believe I'll watch you suffer

And the reason I get this...

The reason I get this...

The reason I get this way

But is it worth the pain?

Spike felt the smile spread across his face as he ripped into the guitar solo with more gusto than he ever had in his life. She was bloody amazing. It was as if she was the only person in the room. He knew "Reason" was the perfect audition song for her. He knew she'd be bloody brilliant.

He shot a glance over at Oz. The bass player was moving his body like a cobra in time to the music. His eyes were closed as he plucked the strings on his bass, his fingers dancing up the neck expertly. Spike grinned even more when he saw the corners of the usually stoic man's mouth twitch up into a slight smile.

I know the reason I get this

The reason I get this

The reason I get this way

Everyday

The reason I get this way

And the reason I get this way

I don't know, I don't know

The reason I get this way...

She set the microphone back in its stand as she heard Xander's last fill signaling the end of the song. Shit, she was crying. Buffy opened her eyes as the music ended and snapped back to the reality around her. Tara and Willow were jumping up and down whistling and clapping. She felt a little shaky, but totally relieved. It felt good to sing. And it felt even better to sing something that Spike had written knowing that they shared that same dark place it had come from.

"Fucking amazing," Oz whispered.

"Holy shit, Spike! You didn't tell us she was that good!" Xander echoed the bass player's sentiment with a little more elaboration. "That was unreal! She's, like, a thousand times better than Dru! Can we keep her?"

Buffy felt the smile forming on her lips and brushed away the tears with the back of her hand. Spike's arms wrapped around her from behind and he kissed her neck possessively.

"What do you say, Love?" he whispered. "Want to be a kept woman?"

Buffy was finishing her orange juice when she heard the honking of a horn in her drive-way. She had planned on walking to school after her weekend run-in with Cordelia. She was positive the brunette was still too angry with her to even want to look at her. She grabbed her purse and books and stopped only to lock the door behind her.

She was greeted by the sight of a red Nissan hardbody with the words "Virgin's Last Ride" emblazoned across the top of the windshield in glittering gold letters.

"Hey Buffy," Harmony called from the open window. "We thought you might need a ride. It's a tight fit, but you're scrawny."

Buffy couldn't help but grin as Harmony scooted closer to the muscular, smooth-scalped man in the driver's seat.

"Hey Buff," Gunn said flashing her a toothpaste-ad smile. "Heard about your big weekend."

She felt her cheeks warm a bit at the thought of her big weekend. Just how much had Harmony told him? He reached out and turned up the stereo as he peeled out of her driveway expertly.

Juices like wine

Discord and rhyme

I'm on the hunt

I'm after you...

Buffy giggled at Gunn's choice in music. It was obviously one of Harmony's choices. Harmony was trying to follow along with it, bobbing her head and mouthing the words like someone who had heard the song a hundred or more times. For a cheerleader, she had surprisingly very little rhythm.

"So, what's the what? Is it cool to hang with the outcasts now?" she found herself asking.

"Oh Honey, we are the outcasts now if you haven't figured it out," Gunn joked.

"Yeah, Cordy spent the rest of yesterday calling everyone she knew so that they would be sure to avoid us like the black plague," Harmony groused. "No offense, Sugar Bear," she smiled up at Gunn.

He smiled back at her, dropping a kiss on her head at the stop sign.

"Yeah, I've got their plague alright," he grinned. "That's bullshit, man, that Cordelia thinks she can judge like that. You know, I was never cool with what they did to you, Buffy. Was I, Harm?"

Harmony looked appropriately guilty.

"No, you weren't, Charles, " she said seriously. "He used to tell me that he could fix you up with his friend Wes. Or that we could bring you along with us. That there was no reason to leave you at Cordy's by yourself. But Cordy would always interrupt and say that you didn't mind and that you weren't interested in dating and partying. She made you out to be some kind of freak."

Gee, that made Buffy feel so much better.

"That's why she kept trying to push Connor on me. She didn't like that my Sugar Bear had a heart and a mind of his own," Harmony explained. "She really thought that she could get me to dump him by threatening my popularity. But I... I love Charles," she admitted quietly.

Gunn's eyes lit up at her proclamation. Buffy assumed that Harmony had never told him that she loved him before.

"I love you too, Goldilocks," he said as she snuggled closer to him.

Buffy couldn't help but smile herself. She knew how it felt to love someone and to be loved. The way she felt about Spike erased all of her desires to be anyone but who she was when she was with him. This softer, kinder Harmony was refreshing. Something in Buffy wanted to reciprocate the protective gestures Harmony had shown for her and Spike. She vowed to herself that she wouldn't let Cordy, Angel or any of their snooty friends do anything to hurt this new couple.

Gunn pulled into his usual spot in the student parking lot. At least they hadn't taken his space, that was a start. He jumped down from the truck and then helped Harmony and Buffy out. Buffy noticed Gunn slip his arm around Harmony and remembered how it felt to have Spike's arm around her. It was going to be a long day knowing that he would be waiting for her at two.

The first thing Buffy noticed were the snickers being cast their way as she walked down the hall with Harmony and Gunn. It seemed Cordelia had already done what she considered 'damage control' among the popular set.

"I feel like I have a giant 'kick me' sign on my ass," Harmony whispered.

She had never been on the receiving end of stares and whispers. She was extremely uncomfortable, but Gunn held her close to him. He could feel the tension in her body.

"Ignore them, Baby," he told her. "They're jealous. They don't have what we have. If they did, they'd understand. Besides, I've got a little ace in the hole."

Gunn was nothing like Buff had imagined. She supposed that she had expected him to be just as shallow and unfeeling as the rest of the jocks and cheerleaders. Instead, he was very sweet as he whispered endearments in Harmony's ear making her giggle and blush.

Buffy stopped at her locker and dialed in her combination as Gunn and Harmony continued talking quietly and stealing kisses at the locker next to hers.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Miss Uptight Stick Up Her Ass Buffy and the two losers without a brain between them."

Buffy stiffened at the sound of Cordelia's voice and the harsh words she spat at them,

"Cordy, I really don't think it's neccessary to--"

"Oh wait, that woudn't be a stick... that would be my step-brother's dick up her--"

Buffy's hand shot out before she could even think and silenced the cheerleader with a blow to the nose.

"You shut up!" she venemously glared. "You just shut your mouth! You don't know anything about me and Will! You just leave us alone!"

Cordy held her hand over her nose and glowered at her former friend as a trickle of blood made its way down the front of her white cashmere sweater.

"You bitch! This is a Guess! sweater! It cost a fortune! It's ruined!" she cried out.

Buffy shrugged and shook her head.

"Listen Cordy," she sighed. "I'm sorry about your sweater. It's not ruined. Take it to the dry cleaner. They can get out just about anything. But what is ruined is our friendship... or at least what little was left of it. I... I don't know what happened to you, Cordy."

"To me? Nothing happened to me!" Cordelia yelled. "It's YOU! Something is wrong with you. Not me."

"Right," Buffy nodded. "So, you being a collossal bitch has nothing to do with you? And the fact that Harmony and Gunn see straight through your poor little rich girl act has nothing to do with you? You know, I remember when we used to be friends, Cordy," Buffy said sadly. "I remember when mom and dad would take us all to the beach and then stop by Waffle House on the way home. I remember when... when there was still something about you to like."

She left Cordy standing there with her mouth open and walked away without a glance back. It was sad, the choices Cordelia had made. Her reputation was more important to her than love or friendship. Buffy prayed that she never became like that.

"Oh, and Queen C... just thought I'd let you know," Gunn smirked. "Might want to start looking for fresh meat."

Cordy looked at him through wild eyes. What the Hell was he talking about?

"Buffy's nice enough to not rub salt in your wounds... or maybe she just didn't know. Either way, she's head and shoulders above you in the class department and I didn't want to embarrass her," Gunn began.

"Would you just spit it out already, you Cretin?!" she shrieked.

The insults only fueled the fire as far as Gunn was concerned. Harmony looked up at him, her brow furrowed, wondering what dirty little secret her boyfriend was about to divulge.

"Seems your Angel's been playing you," he told her. "Liam Senior's company was about to take a nose-dive, so he did what he had to do to help out his old man. He won't be going off to Northwestern on that football scholarship after all. He's going to stick around and hit UC Sunnydale so that he can continue his relationship with Winifred Burkle. Her father has agreed to become partners with Angel's dad in VisionCorp. Marrying Fred... well, that was just the final step that sealed the deal."

"Marrying? Marrying Fred?" Cordelia was screaming at the top of her lungs and didn't care who heard her. "What the Hell are you talking about? Angel isn't marrying anyone! There is no Fred! There is no..."

Her eyes raised to meet Angel's across the quad. As soon as she saw him, he looked away. She stalked over to him, pushing her way through the nosy groups of students waiting for the bell to ring. Angel straightened his shoulders and shuffled his feet. This was not the way he had wanted to handle breaking up with Cordelia.

"Tell me he's lying," she demanded.

"He's, uh... he's lying," Angel repeated weakly. He refused to look at her.

"Now tell me you're not," she whispered as the tears welled up in her eyes.

Angel looked up at her briefly and then back down at the floor. He didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes said it all.

"Were you going to tell me?" she asked numbly.

He nodded.

"And when would that be? Before or after you walked her down the aisle?"

"You don't love me, Cordy."

It was a simple statement. There was no animosity in his voice. They both knew it was true.

"But... but I could," she cried out.

"But you don't. And maybe I want that from someone. Maybe I want someone to see me as more than a nice car or a ticket to popularity. Maybe... maybe Fred is that person," he told her.

"No," she whispered. "No!"

"I didn't want to do this here," he told her. "Not like this. I didn't think Gunn would say anything."

"But he did," Cordy reminded him. "He knew. Who else knew?"

He didn't say anything.

"Was I the only one who didn't know?"

"You didn't want to see it," he said. "You... you were too wrapped up in yourself. It was fun, Cordy. It was exciting. But it was never nice. And it was never... it was never forever."

She watched him walk away and sank down on the bench behind her. No. This was not happening. She was Cordelia Chase. Who the Hell did he think he was?

"Well, just so you know it's OVER, Angel!" she screamed. "It's over! I'm dumping you! Yeah! We're through!"

She was crying, uncaring who saw. "We're through," she whispered, not believing it herself.

Buffy looked up at the clock and grinned. She grabbed her books and started making her way down from the top tier of the band room.

"And just where are you going, Summers?" her section leader, Ford, shot over to her as she paused on tier three, the woodwinds.

"Hot date," she grinned. "Don't wait up, Mom."

He winked and elbowed the triple-tom player, Parker.

"Summers has a hot date," he teased. "Must be with you since it's not with me."

Buffy rolled her eyes. She liked being the only girl in the drum line... sometimes. The guys, while most of the time protective of her, enjoyed making her blush just the same.

"Not me," Parker told him. He threw a drumstick at the bass drummer, Riley Finn, who was sitting in the far corner behind the old Slingerland set used for jazz band with the band director's phone pressed up to his ear. He'd pulled the phone out of the office and snaked the cord around the door jamb and along the moulding, knowing he'd get away with using it in stealth as he always did.

"Hey Finn," he called. "Date with Summers tonight?"

Riley scowled and launched the stick back at him. He put his hand over the phone receiver and informed Parker that he was talking to his girlfriend, Cecily, who did not know how to take a joke.

"Date with Buffy?" they heard her screech through the phone. "That mousy little thing that plays the snare drum? What the Hell? I thought we were exclusive?"

"Thanks a lot, asshole," he shouted at a giggling Parker. "No, honey. They were kidding. They're just giving Summers shit for having a date tonight."

He continued trying to soothe his overactive girlfriend. Cecily was home-schooled and a little more than sheltered when it came to the outside world. She took everything anyone told her as the gospel truth.

"So, who's the lucky guy then, Summers?" Ford quirked his brow at her.

"He, uh... doesn't go here," she told him.

"Uh-huh. More, please?" Parker encouraged.

It amazed her how the three nearly grown-men acted more like a bunch of ladies at a beauty salon then high school seniors. Goddip queens had nothing on them; they were the reigning kings.

"He's a sophomore at UC Sunnydale," she continued. She was going to make them work for this.

"Do we know him?" Riley asked, his ear still to the phone.

"Maybe," she smiled glancing at the clock. It was nearly two. She knew Spike would be waiting and she was more than anxious to see him.

"Come on, Summers. Spill the beans," Ford instructed sternly.

"Is there any chance you'll let me out of here at two if I don't?"

She knew that Ford would pull rank and use his section leader status to detain her if she didn't tell him what he wanted to know.

"Likely not," he confessed.

She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Fine. It's William Giles," she informed her leader. "Can I go now?"

Ford was searching the recesses of his memory. Giles? William... Cordelia Chase's step-brother?

"No shit?" he asked, remembering Spike as the snarky British import who had joined them mid-year in Jazz band when Ford was a freshman. "He still playing guitar?"

Buffy was surprised by Ford's question. Part of her thought he was going to make a snide remark about her new boyfriend.

"Uh, yeah... how did you--"

"Oh yeah," Parker piped up. "Dude was in jazz band with us freshman year. He was really good. Kind of an asshole if you ask me, but he did a wicked Lynch that used to make Mr. Powell want to crawl under his podium."

Parker was referring to Spike's Dokken-style guitar solos. And she knew how much Mr. Powell hated any music that came from the 80s. Well, the 1980s. He pretty much cast away anything that was written before 1950.

"You're dating that guy?" Riley asked, still on the phone with Cecily. "Isn't he in some punk band now? I thought I saw him pick up Cordelia a few months ago and his hair was all bleached out and he was big with the black and the leather?"

"He's in Red Rain," she told them with a self-serving smile. "So am I. You should come see us sometime. Can I go now?"

Ford was still looking like he was weighing his decision.

"Come on, Ford," she pleaded. "He's waiting for me."

"He still drive that old DeSoto?" he asked.

"Yes, Ford," she answered hastily. "Please, now?"

He let out a laugh and shooed her off.

"Go," he told her. "Have fun, Summers. Tell Spike I always liked that car. That's the only reason I'm letting you go early."

She ran out of the band room stifling a giggle. She decided that if she'd had brothers she'd have wanted them to be like Ford, Parker and Riley. They gave her a fair ration of shit, but it was all in good fun.

She spotted the DeSoto at the back of the student parking lot as soon as she opened the door. The top was down and he was leaning against the door smoking a cigarette. She practically ran across the pavement to him. It was hard to believe it had been almost a full day since she'd last seen him. She couldn't believe how hard her heart was beating. She threw her books into the back seat and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down for a searing kiss.

"Taste like nicotine, Love," he grinned when she finally came up for air. He had dropped the cigarette on the ground when she tackled him.

"Don't care," she whispered. "I missed you so much, Will."

"I missed you, too," he admitted, opening the door for her.

She pulled her seatbelt across her chest as he went around and got in on his side. Her eyes raked over him adoringly. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans that had been razored within an inch of becoming rags and a black Misfits t-shirt. One arm was covered with black rubber bracelets and thin silver bangles nearly to his elbow. On the other, he wore a thick cuff bracelet of twisted silver with twin dragons' heads sitting nose-to-nose at the closure. His thick, leather jimmies were peeking out from the frayed bottoms of his jeans. She thought about what Riley said about him being a punk and giggled. He certainly looked every bit the part. Too bad those boys would never know the poet who hid under the leather and chains.

"So, where are we going tonight?" she wondered aloud as she took in his attire.

He grinned at her and thought about egging her on. He had a change of clothes in the trunk.

"I was thinking we'd swing through the drive-thru of McDonald's on the way out to Club Demo," he fibbed.

She raised an eyebrow at him, knowing he was teasing.

"Were you now? Hmm..." Two could play at this game. "That's too bad. I laid out a really nice little strappy thing that hits about mid-thigh. But, you know, McDonald's and Club Demo. Wouldn't want to be overdressed."

"We still playing your truth game, Love?" he asked.

"I don't know, Will," she challenged. "Are we?"

He broke into a wide grin and reached for her hand. He raised it to his lips and kissed her palm gently before darting his tongue out to taste it. She giggled at the rough, wet sensation.

"Always, Kitten. Wear the strappy number," he told her. "We're going some place nice."