Oh no. This can't be good.

Buffy's mind screamed at her to get up and run far away from Riley Finn, but she couldn't seem to will her legs to move. They were numb, as was the rest of her poor, intoxicated body. Her head spun and her heart raced, as the bulky teenager descended upon her, lust shining out through his dark brown eyes. He immediately reached for her dress, tugging mercilessly at the thin material.

"Stop! No! Get off!" she screamed, trying so hard to wiggle her way free.

"Shh," he coaxed.

"Riley! GET OFF ME!"

Tears were now freely falling down her frightened face, as she swatted his roaming hands away from her shaking body.

"Don't be like that, Buffy. I'm just trying to have some fun," he grinned.

"Please! Please stop!" she begged, desperation lacing her words. "Stop it!!"

"No," he simply said.

"Oww! No! Don't!"

In a moment of panic, Buffy whipped her hand out, scratching him hard across the eye. Riley howled in pain, giving Buffy the opportunity to roll herself off the bed. She landed with a painful thud, and crawled helplessly to the door in front of her.

"You little bitch!" he shouted, picking her up by the hair and smacking her across the face.

She struggled and whimpered against his firm grasp, as he threw her back onto the bed.

"Now, slut, if you hold real still I promise I'll be gentle," he told her, rolling her dress up to her waist.

"NO!! Riley, please!"

When she saw him starting to unbuckle his belt, rage built inside of her and she let out a shrill, terrified scream. Riley's eyes grew wide and he quickly covered her mouth with the bloodstained hand he used to wipe his eye with.

"Shut the fuck up!" he ordered.

Buffy couldn't breathe. His strong hand prevented any oxygen from entering into her system. Fear laced through her veins at the thought that this might be the end. But before he removed his hand from her mouth, Buffy chomped down as hard as she could, until she tasted the salty blood spill onto her tongue. Another pained roar erupted from the man above her and he grabbed his battered hand in agony, cursing and yelling the entire time.

Buffy used all the strength she possessed and made another mad dash to the bedroom door. As her hand reached the doorknob, she felt Riley grab her around the waist. Thinking fast, she snatched a nearby lamp and smashed it as hard as she could over his head. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

With a deep breath, the traumatized blonde yanked open the door and flung herself out into the hallway, finally free from her attacker. Kissing couples just gave her an odd glance and headed off to parts unknown. Buffy tried her hardest to maintain focus, although her alcohol-induced brain had other plans. She could barely see straight as she carefully made her way down the winding staircase. Based purely on luck, she successfully reached the bottom and set her sights on the loveseat in the corner. Using what little strength she had left, she climbed onto it and curled herself into a little ball. Before she knew it, her eyes closed and slumber took her over.

~~~

Buffy opened her heavy eyelids sometime later, only to find most of the party guests lying on various couches and chairs. She spared a glance at the digital clock next to her and her eyes went wide with horror, when it read 4:32.

"Holy crap! Mom's gonna KILL me!" she whispered harshly to herself.

But as she raised her hand to her face to wipe away and strand of hair, she flinched when it came in contact with a painful welt. Her stomach turned at the memories of what happened earlier in the night. She was almost raped. She was almost raped by a semi-drunk football playing asshole. One that she had trusted.

Her stomach turned again, and this time the alcohol inside decided it wanted to come out and play. Buffy immediately lurched forward, spilling her stomach's contents all over Angel's persian rug. She groaned inwardly at the display, but chose to make a mad dash out of there before anyone saw.

Standing on her dizzy legs, Buffy slowly made her way to the front door. It creaked open and she slipped outside, unnoticed.

It probably wasn't wise for her to walk home in the dark, considering she had already been almost raped once that night, but she didn't really see anymore options. Spike was as good as gone, and her psychotic date for the evening was probably still unconscious. Or dead for that matter. She shrugged, and began walking swiftly down the gloomy sidewalk.

About twenty minutes passed, and she was already on Spike's block. She noticed his bedroom light was on, and took it upon herself to head there instead of home. If her mom knew she came in at five in the morning, there was sure to be trouble. But if she stayed out all night, she could just say she crashed at Willow's or something.

With a sigh, Buffy made her way up Spike's tipsy ladder, ignoring the excruciating headache left over from her night of drunken festivities. When she reached his window, she grabbed it's latch and pushed upwards, succesfully opening the glass pane. She clumsily pulled herself into the well-lit room, and let out a small gasp when she toppled forward.

"Ow..." she whined, rubbing her aready sore head.

She then sighed and made her way over to his bed, sitting herself down on the squishy surface. Whistling softly to herself, she glanced around the room, awaiting Spike's return. As she noted the various posters and items strewn across his messy bedroom, her focus fell on the small garbage can beside his dresser. She frowned and stood up, walking over to it to get a closer look. When she realized what it contained, nausea swept over her once more and she immediately dashed back over to the open window.

A condom! A USED condom! In Spike's garbage can! Oh god...

But before she climbed out, a female voice interrupted her escape.

"Um, can I help you?"

Buffy's head whipped around and there stood Cecily, wearing nothing but one of Spike's old t-shirts. She swallowed hard, and removed her right leg from outside the window.

"Oh, I was, uh... here to see Spike," she replied truthfully, looking anywhere but the scantily clad girl before her.

"I see. So you decided to climb through his bedroom window at five o'clock in the morning?" she wondered, with the lift of one of her perfectly arched brows.

"Hum, yeah?"

"Interesting. Let me go get him for you."

"No! I - I mean, no... don't. I'll just go. Don't even tell him I was here," she said, turning on her heel once more.

But again she was stopped, when a shirtless Spike entered the room. He almost fell over when he saw her. Not only was he shocked at seeing her in his bedroom at this time of day, but her dress was ripped, her hair was a mess, and she had a nasty purple bruise under her left eye.

"Buffy?" he asked, mouth agape.

"Hey," she said simply. "I walked here. I, um, didn't have a ride..."

Spike looked down, guiltily.

"I was gonna go home, but Mom would have flipped. Thought maybe I could... well, you know, crash here for a few hours. But you look busy, so I'll just go."

She turned to leave for the third time, but Spike rushed over and grabbed her by the arm.

"Buffy, what happened to you?"

Worry was etched in his face, and Buffy gulped.

"How - how do you know something happened?"

"Well, the big, ambiguous bruise on your face leads to some questions..."

"Right. Evasive contusions. Gotcha. I-It was nothing though."

"Looks a bit painful to be nothing, pet."

He then unconsciously raised a hand, and gently ran it along her marred face, watching as her eyes closed in contentment.

"Um, do you mind?" Cecily objected, tapping her foot impatiently against Spike's hard wood floor, successfully breaking the moment.

Spike rolled his eyes and turned around to face her. Her hands were on her hips and she looked none too pleased.

"I have things I could be doing right now, thank you very much. I really don't have time to stand around watching you two make moon eyes at each other."

Buffy blushed and stepped away from the man in front of her. The man who had obviously been more than intimate with haughty Cecily Price.

"If you don't mind, Cec, we've done what you came for, so it's probably best if you just go now," he informed her. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Cecily obviously didn't like this new development, but she said nothing as she pulled on her black slacks, snatched her purse and blouse, and stormed out of Spike's room. It was silent until the front door was slammed shut and the sound of a motor could be heard in the distance.

"Tell me what happened to you," Spike said, leading Buffy to the edge of his bed.

She pulled away.

"I'd rather stand."

"Alright."

It was again silent, until Buffy decided to change the subject.

"You had sex with her," she accused, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I did."

"Why?"

"Since when is that your business?"

Buffy huffed and leaned against the wall. Spike was right. It wasn't her business. So why did she care so much?

"It's not. It's just..."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Can I go?"

"Not until you tell me why your face is painted pretty colors," he prompted, shifting on the bed so he was now laying back on his hands.

"Spike, I'm fine. I just had a little too much to drink and fell down the stairs. That's all."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, it is. Now if you don't mind, I should get home," she told him, turning to leave.

"What about your mum?"

"I'll make something up."

Before she let him hold her back, Buffy was already climbing out the window once again. She didn't even spare him a glance, as she made her way down the creaking ladder and sprinted off into the night.

Spike just sat there with his conflicted emotions. He had made a mistake bringing Cecily to his bed, and somehow he knew that before it even happened.

Cecily was part of his past; a part that never should have been dredged up. But his reasons for being with her were entirely selfish and unforthcoming. He had used her to forget about Buffy Summers. But spending an emotionless night with someone was obviously not the way to do it.

His thoughts then wandered to Buffy's reaction of him and Cecily. He could have sworn he saw evidence of jealousy in her eyes. But what reasons would she have to be jealous? She had Riley Finn. The big, fruity tosser, unworthy of being called boyfriend material to any girl. It didn't matter though. If Buffy had feelings for him, that was her deal. He couldn't change the way she felt. Just like he couldn't change the way he felt.

But how did he feel? He cared about Buffy. He was attracted to Buffy. Overall, he had feelings for Buffy Summers that went way beyond platonic. And he was just going to have to live with those feelings until they faded away.

He would not pursue her, for she deserved far better than him. Hell, she deserved far better than most men could offer her. But that was beside the point. The point was that he had tormented her and made her feel worthless for all these years. That's not something someone can forgive and forget. Maybe she did, but he didn't. He couldn't. The way he treated her was inexcusable, and it was just something he was going to have to live with. Though, he couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the situation.

He ended up falling for the one girl he could never have.

"Elizabeth Anne Summers!" came the authoritative voice of a highly brassed off mother.

Buffy cringed, stopping mid-way on the staircase. She thought walking in quietly and making a mad dash up to her room would be a constructive plan, but Joyce obviously thought otherwise.

"Hi, Mom," she gulped.

"What in the Lord's name do you think you're doing?"

"Going to bed?"

"Buffy, it's 5:30 in the morning! Where have you been all night?!"

She sighed and made her way back down the stairs, meeting her mother at the base.

"I'm sorry. I sorta fell asleep."

"I've been worried sick!"

"I know, I know. I'm really sorry."

"This is just not like you!"

Buffy looked down at her feet, tears welling up in her sad, green eyes. She had really screwed up.

"Buffy, what's that on your face?" her mother asked, rushing over to the wall and flipping on the light.

Her eyes went wide with fear, and she instinctively tried to cover up the evidence of her attack.

"It's nothing, Mom. Really tired now. Night!" she tried, trotting back up the stairs.

"Honey, did someone hurt you?"

She froze, swallowed hard, and turned back around.

"No, Mom. No one hurt me. I - I fell is all," she lied.

"Well, let me see."

"Mom, please. Can we talk about this later? I'm just so tired," Buffy pleaded.

Joyce sighed.

"Alright. Get some rest. But don't think this is over. I sense a two-week grounding in the near future."

She nodded and headed up to her room. When she was finally in the comfort zone of her own personal dwelling, she shut the door and leaned back against it. Tears were now freely falling down her soiled cheeks, cooling the heat of the abrasion on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, and slid down the door, burying her face in her knees. She stayed that way for almost an hour, sobbing her wounded heart out. When her tears finally dwindled down, a soft tapping sound at her window caught her attention. She immediately looked up, and sighed when Spike was on the other side. She really didn't feel like dealing with him right now.

Reluctantly bringing her tired body into a standing position, she slowly made her way to the adjacent window. She opened it, and Spike stepped inside.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice raspy from crying so long.

"Seeing if you're okay. You don't look so good..." he admitted, closing the window behind him.

Buffy just rolled her eyes and went back to her spot against the door. Spike followed suit and sat down before her. He noticed her swollen eyes and wondered what really happened that night.

"You shouldn't be here, Spike. I want to be alone."

"I left you alone before and look where that got us," he reminded.

"Better off. You in your room and me in mine."

"Not so better off, by the looks of your face..."

Buffy closed her eyes, biting back her anger.

"You don't know anything about what happened tonight," she informed him. "Too busy with your whore I presume."

"You're right. I was."

She glanced up at him.

"Well, that's something..." she mumbled.

"Buffy, I'm sorry I left you alone like that. It was wrong of me. I could have put you in a great deal danger and --"

"Well, you did."

Spike frowned, and watched as Buffy stood up and began walking to her bed. He quickly stood up and turned her around to face him.

"What happened?" he demanded, almost not wanting to know the answer. "Did Riley hurt you?"

She pulled her arm free, but he snatched it back. Fury was evident in his eyes, making Buffy cower slightly.

"No," she lied. "Now let me go."

"Damnit, Buffy! Tell me what happened."

"No!" she cried, feeling her resolve deteriorating.

"Love --"

"I'm not your "love"! Now please, just leave me alone! I want to be alone!"

Spike dropped her arm. He could see it. He could see it in her eyes. Riley had hurt her.

"I'm gonna kill him!" he shouted, rushing to the window and prying it open.

Buffy immediately ran over to stop him, her panic rising.

"No, no! Spike, you can't! He - he didn't mean it... he..."

That was it. Buffy finally broke.

"He... tried to rape me..." she finally whispered, tears pouring down her face.

Her legs suddenly couldn't seem to support her weight anymore, and she crumpled to the floor, taking Spike with her. She hid her face deep inside his duster, not wanting him to see how ashamed she was.

Spike felt like he had just been punched in the gut. He had almost let Buffy get raped. Because of his selfish, stubborn, stupid self, he had hurt her. Not directly, and far from intentionally, but he had. And now here she was, weeping in his lap like he could somehow turn back time and make things better. But he couldn't. All he could do was hold her, run his hands through her tangled hair, and shower sorry kisses upon her tear-stained face.

Buffy held him tighter, never wanting to let go. He was so warm and safe, and she realized she could get lost in his sheltering embrace. She didn't blame him at all for what happened. She's the one who decided to drink, and she's the one who denied him of his help when she really needed it. If she had just let him help her, none of this would have happened. That thought only brought upon a new wave of grief, and she continued to cry and shake in his arms.

"God, Buffy, I'm so sorry..." he apologized, his warm breath in her ear making her shiver slightly.

Buffy looked up at him, noting the intense look in his blue eyes. She could see that he felt responsible.

"It's not your fault," she whispered. "I made a stupid mistake. I put myself in a compromising situation and --"

But before she could finish her sentence, Spike's lips were brushing ever so softly against her own. Just the slightest touch of his mouth against hers made her entire body heat up. She closed her eyes, waiting, hoping for more... but nothing did. Spike was about to pull away from her, but Buffy moved in until their lips were touching again.

Spike practically groaned at the contact. What he intended to be nothing more than a sweet, comfort kiss, Buffy obviously took as something more. They stayed that way for what seemed like hours, their lips lingering against each other. But no one made a move to deepen the kiss. They just sat there, eyes closed in a state of contentment.

Spike was the first to pull back. He raised a gentle hand and caressed the side of her cheek, watching as her eyelids finally fluttered open.

"I care about you, Buffy," he told her, his voice barely audible.

He didn't know what he meant by that, or why he said it, all he knew is that it was the truth.

"I know," she said, as equally soft. "We're friends again... right?"

"Of course. Friends forever," he smiled, remembering their childhood pact.

Despite all that had happened that night, she couldn't help but suppress a nostalgic smile herself.

"Friends forever," she repeated.

It was silent for a while, as Buffy leaned against the side of her bed and Spike sat before her. Neither of them addressed the previous kiss, because they both knew what it meant. It was solace. But more importantly, it was a connection. A renewed bond between them, that would take a hell of a lot more than a juvenile popularity contest to break. Their former friendship had been officially reestablished and they both realized that.

Spike sighed amidst the comfortable silence, and suddenly realized something.

"Uh, pet?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened to Finn?"

To his surprise, her face lit up.

"I kicked his home spun butt," she exclaimed.

He just gaped at her.

"But, love, you're like two feet tall..."

"What? I am not! I'm 5'2!"

"Still! 'Sides... you were drunk!"

"Hey, I never said it was easy!" she reminded him.

Spike grinned at her.

"Well, that's my girl then. Always knew you had a spot of violence in you."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you did. You so always lost when we played superhero."

"I let you win!" he covered.

"Uh-huh. Right. So the "No! Please don't stake me! I'll do anything!" was just for show then?"

"Damn straight!"

She laughed.

"Fine. I'll quit stealing your macho points," she relented. "As long as you know I can still take you."

"Pfft!"

"Pfft my ass! You know I can!"

"Hardly, Summers. You seem to forget I was the star basketball player for two years in a row."

"And you seem to forget that I recently took out a star football player for four years in a row, AND I was drunk!"

"Alright then," he decided, getting in proposition-mode. "Right here, right now. We'll give it a go."

"What? Now?!"

"You heard me."

"But... my mom's downstairs. She'll totally hear us. And besides, we're not prepared."

"Prepared?"

"Sure. You don't have the teeth."

"Bloody hell! I'm not wearing any nancy boy fang-wear."

"Fine then. I won't wear the leather pants."

His ears perked up at that.

"Leather pants you say?"

"Yup. All Slayers need to wear leather pants," she explained.

"How do you know?"

She shrugged.

"Saw it in a chat room once."

"Alright, fine. I'll wear the teeth."

"And the cape!"

"Hell no!"

"Aww, c'mon, Spike! You have to!"

"No way, Summers!"

Buffy sighed.

"Please?" she tried, jutting out her bottom lip.

"Sodding..."

"Yay! You're the best!" she squealed.

"Yeah, yeah. So, what are the odds?"

"Odds?"

"Well, when I win, what do I get?"

"Jeez, presume much? And I dunno, what do you want?"

"Humm, I'll get back to you on that one..."

"Fair enough. But if I win, you have to take Willow to the Prom."

His eyes shot open.

"Bleeding hell! Are you insane?!"

"No, I'm not," she insisted. "I know she's harbored a secret crush for you since freshman year, even though she'd never admit it. And besides, she doesn't have a date."

"Buffy..."

"What? Willow's cute! And sweet! And my best friend. So you have to take her."

"Who are you going with?"

"Not going."

"Why not? It's senior Prom."

"Yeah, I got that part. It's just not my thing... I don't do dances," she shrugged.

"Is that right?" he grinned.

Buffy shuddered at his infamous smirk. Those were never good.

"Oh god, what is it?" she cringed.

"If I win, you have to run for Prom queen."

She paled.

"Oh, my god! Spike! You're crazy!"

"As crazy as you are, pet."

"Well, no! No... no way!"

"Alright then. Whole thing's off."

"Arrrgh!"

Spike laughed.

"You're cute when you growl."

"Shut up," she said playfully, rolling her eyes. "And fine. I'll do it. But it so doesn't matter, 'cause I'm gonna win anyway!"

"Whatever you say, Summers. Whatever you say..."

It was time.

Joyce was out doing her weekly grocery shopping and Buffy was waiting intently on the couch, twirling a wooden spoon between her fingers. Her leather pants were extremely uncomfortable, as she stared at the clock, waiting for her nemesis to arrive. She couldn't wait to see if he really brought the plastic teeth and cape, for she had this burning desire to take a picture and make copies.

It wasn't long before a shiny black Mustang pulled into her driveway and Spike made his way to the front door.

Damnit! He wasn't in costume.

She whipped open the door with a grim look on her face. Spike just smiled and stepped inside.

"Spike! Where's your stuff?"

"Stuff?"

"You know, the evil vampire accessories?"

"I don't know what you're talking about..." he feigned innocence.

Buffy sighed.

"Fine. Forget it. But let's get on with this, because I'm supposed to be grounded."

"Grounded? Your mum knew that I came over last night?"

"Oh, no. Not that. It was the whole staying out 'til sunrise sitch. That kinda stuff doesn't go over well with the parentals I guess."

"I reckon it wouldn't," he agreed, and then started walking towards the kitchen, hands stuffed into his pockets.

Buffy frowned and followed him.

"Aren't we gonna do the thing where I stick a pointy, wooden object in your chest?" she wondered, watching as he started rummaging through her refrigerator. "Or we could just make sandwiches instead..."

"Sorry, love. A bit peckish is all," he replied, snatching various meats and cheeses from the deli bin. "Care to join me?"

"Sorta just ate," she admitted.

"Suit yourself."

Buffy sat down at her kitchen table, and Spike soon followed when he finished making his meal. He sat across from her and took a sip from the glass of milk he had poured himself.

"Do you normally do that? Just raid people's refrigerators?" she asked, a casual smirk on her face.

"Only yours, pet," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Realizing what exactly Spike put on his sandwich, Buffy watched in horror as he devoured the last of her meunster cheese.

"Spike! My cheese!" she squealed, quickly snatching the half-eaten lunch out of Spike's hands.

"Bloody hell! It's just cheese."

"Well, I happen to like cheese. And this was my favorite!" she complained, bringing the sandwich to her mouth and taking a big bite.

"I offered to make you your own, you know. Not my fault you refused."

"Vat wuf befo I ew you wuh eeing ma eese," came her muffled response, her mouth filled to the brim.

"Come again?"

She swallowed, took a quick swig of Spike's milk, and repeated herself.

"I said, that was before I knew you were eating my cheese."

Spike just rolled his eyes and grabbed the sandwich back, before she could take another bite.

"Hey! No fair!" she whined, failing at her attempts to retrieve it back. "Spike!"

"What are you gonna do about it, Summers?" he grinned, raising a scarred brow.

Buffy's eyes widened a bit and then she smiled. Simultaneously, they both rose from their seats. The sandwich was soon forgotten as Buffy quickly chased Spike down the hallway. Remembering her "stake", she turned around, picked it up off the coffee table, and returned to the matter at hand. Spike must have snuck into one of the rooms, because he was nowhere to be seen.

"Real manly of you, Spikey. Is the big, bad vampire scared of a little Slayer?" she taunted, chewing on her lower lip.

She carefully stepped into her mother's bedroom, her eyes perusing it's contents. She felt a presence behind her, but before she could turn around, Spike tackled her to the floor.

"Oh!" she squeaked, falling to the rough carpet below her.

Knowing what came after the crashing to the ground part, she quickly turned herself around and used all her might to push Spike from off of her with her feet. He fell backwards, and Buffy took the opportunity to mount him.

Bleeding hell! he groaned inwardly, taking in the feel of the small blonde straddling him. She raised the spoon, but Spike grabbed her wrists before it could make it's way to his chest. Buffy squirmed on top of him, trying to force down the make-shift weapon, and Spike's eyes practically rolled to the back of his head at her maneuvers.

Suddenly, Buffy's eyes went huge and she stopped struggling. There was an unfamiliar hardness poking her between the thighs, and by the look on Spike's face, it could only mean one thing.

"What? You were wriggling," came his answer to the silent question, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Heat rushed to Buffy's face... and strangely, to other places. Oh god, she gulped. But before she could respond, Spike flipped her backwards and was immediately on her.

"Spike! What are you --"

As his mouth descended upon her neck, she realized. Oh, right. The game. The game she was about to lose because naughty thoughts wouldn't stop invading her mind. Inevitably making her body go weak with... naughty thoughts.

Spike lowered his mouth, and instead of pretending to bite her like he used to, his tongue darted out, lightly lapping up a bead of salty sweat that had gathered there. He felt Buffy shiver below him, and realized that she wasn't fighting his ministrations. With a groan, he took a bit of flesh into his mouth and nibbled softly, enticing a mewl from girl beneath him. God, she tasted good...

"Oh, my god!"

The two immediately shot up to find a horrified Ms. Summers standing before them. The two grocery bags she was holding dropped to the floor, various condiments spilling around her feet.

"We were exercising!" Buffy blurted, using the same excuse she always used.

Joyce just stared at the couple, mouth agape and face a deathly white.

"Buffy, what did I just walk in on?" she choked out, trying to gather her wits.

Buffy's mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. She had never been so embarrassed in her entire life. Sparing a shamed glance at Spike, she noticed he was suddenly fully engrossed on a piece of lint under the bed. Damn him! Was he really just going to make her answer all the humiliating questions? Because something was telling her that the old "exercising" routine wasn't going to work in this matter...

"Mom... i-it's not what you think... w-we were just... hummm," she stuttered.

"Oh, please think of something fast before I go into cardiac arrest," her mother pleaded, fanning herself.

"I promise it was nothing! Spike and I are just friends. We're not... like that."

Joyce calmed down a bit and took a relieved breath.

"Well, that's good to hear. But that still doesn't explain why you two were... positioned that way."

Buffy blushed again.

"We were playing superhero, Mom. You know, that game we played when we were kids?" she reminded.

"So you're telling me, my daughter and her attractive male friend were simply partaking in a chaste childhood pasttime on my bedroom floor?"

"Yuh-huh!" she beamed, innocently.

Her mother sighed.

"Would you two mind meeting me in the kitchen? I'd like to sit down and talk with the both of you."

"Mo-om," Buffy groaned, knowing exactly what kind of "talk" she was referring to.

"Now," she ordered, and after picking up the groceries, headed back down the stairs.

Buffy and Spike just sat there in awkward silence. What had just happened? Nothing major, of course, but what started out as playful rough-housing, ended up taking on a more... sexual approach.

"Well," Buffy exclaimed, standing up and wiping her sweaty palms on the front of her jeans. "I guess we should head down. I know I'm so excited I can barely speak."

"Buffy, I don't want you to think that --"

"Of course not! No thinking!" she interrupted, not wanting the audio sample of their previous demonstration.

"It didn't mean anything. I was just fooling around."

Buffy swallowed, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"Right. I - I know. And the me liking it? Totally for show."

"You liked it?" he asked curiously.

Oops.

"No! No... no way! It was completely gross and obscene!" she covered.

"Buffy!" her mother hollered from below them.

They both let out a reluctant sigh, and trudged their way down the staircase.

~~~

"Honey, are you sexually active?"

"Oh, my god! Mom!"

Joyce sighed, and took a sip from her cup of tea. "Buffy, I need to know these things."

Spike shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"No. I'm not, okay? Can I pleeease go now?" she begged, willing to do anything if it brought her far away from her interrogating mother. "And why does Spike have to be here?"

"Because he's also a growing young man, easily influenced by the world around him. Besides, ever since Anna..."

He winced at the sound of his mother's name.

"... passed on," Joyce she continued. "He hasn't had much of a feminine perspective on things."

"Ms. Summers, I'm fine, really..." Spike tried, the awkward situation beginning to take its toll on him.

"Now, now, Spike. You've always been like a son to me. And when I see you get frisky with my only daughter --"

"We were playin' superhero!" he blurted, cringing at the emasculating comment.

Joyce smiled.

"I believe you. I just worry sometimes. You two kids have been through a lot..."

"Yeah, Mom, I know. But we're just friends, okay? Definitely not on board with the touchy feely kinda thing. So can we please go?"

Her mother let out a hesitant sigh, and finally saved her hand in dismissal.

"Alright. Go enjoy your Saturday afternoon," she relented.

The two were out of their seats before Joyce could get another word in.

"Uh, I should probably go," Spike told Buffy, as they entered the living room. "Dad wanted me to do work around the house and all that."

"Of course. I have homework anyway," she agreed.

"Right. And again about earlier --"

"Spike, you don't need to explain yourself," she insisted. "Stuff happens. Doesn't change anything."

"I know. I just don't want your mum thinking we're --"

"Oh! No, she doesn't. I - I mean, it's not like we're ever gonna... um, you know."

"Right..."

"So nothing to worry about," she smiled, color rising to her cheeks.

"Good then."

"Yeah. Glad that's settled."

Insert awkward silence here.

"Well!" Buffy exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "You better go. Chores and all..."

"Right. Of course. See you Monday then?"

"I'll be there."

"Good."

Buffy watched as he left her house. But as she was about to shut the door, he turned around.

"Oh, and Summers?" he remembered, giving her a grin.

"Yeah?"

"Better start lookin' for a dress."

And with that, he got into his car and drove away, leaving a fuming Buffy behind.

"Buffy! Buffy! Ahhhhhhhhh!!" came the shrill, hysteric voice of one Willow Rosenburg.

"Jeez, Will, what is it? And calm down, you're getting looks!" Buffy accused, as Willow met her at her locker Monday morning.

"It's just... well, two things. One good and one bad! Which do you want first?"

"Hmm, gimme the bad. I'm a half-empty kinda girl," she sighed.

"Okay! Spike just got suspended!"

Buffy froze.

"He what?"

"Got suspended! For three whole days! Almost got expelled!"

"Oh, my god, what happened?" she wondered in horror, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"I dunno what got into him! One minute he was... well, doing something. Then the next, bam! Riley ass kickage!"

"He hurt Riley?"

"Hurt? Note quite. More like pulverized him!" she explained.

Buffy just stared at her friend in shock. Spike beat up Riley? Spike pulverized Riley?

"Willow, was the reason why he made with the pulverizing released at all?" she asked, nervously.

"Nope! It was totally outta nowhere if you ask me."

Buffy sighed in relief.

"Listen, Will, I gotta go. Take notes for me in history and I promise I'll call you later," the blonde told her, spinning on her heal.

"Wait, what? Where are you going? You can't just ditch school, Buffy!" she told her friend, worry etched in her brow.

"I know, but I have to go. Will you cover for me?"

Willow sighed.

"I guess," she grumbled. "But don't you wanna hear my good news?"

"Shoot."

"Spike asked me to Prom!"

Again with the utter shock. She didn't think her fragile heart could take anymore.

"Oh. He - he did?"

The red head nodded vigorously.

"Isn't it awesome? I've had like the biggest crush on him since Freshman year! Well, except for all those times he tripped me in the hallway. A-And put gum in my hair. Oh! And when he took the guts from the frog dissection lab and told me it was the cafeteria special. I've never really recovered from that..."

Buffy just nodded numbly. Spike asked Willow to the Prom? Why in the world would he do that? He totally beat her on Saturday. Did that mean she didn't have to run for Prom Queen anymore? And why was she suddenly feeling jealous?

"Are you okay, Buffy?" Willow wondered, a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine, Wills. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

Willow frowned but gave her an affectionate smile nonetheless. Buffy smiled back and took off down the hallway.

~~~
 

Buffy paced his bedroom floor, impatiently awaiting his return. How dare he! Not only did he totally butt into her business with Riley, but he could have gotten himself killed! Riley was way bigger than him.

But obviously not stronger, she idly thought.

"Spike!" she squawked, as his door creaked open.

He entered dripping wet, only clad in a dark blue bath towel. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her standing there, hands on her hips. Wasn't she supposed to be in school?

Buffy blushed profusely, immediately raising a hand to shield her eyes from the half-naked man before her.

"Uh, er... hummm... hi," she forced out, eyes still covered.

"Hello, pet," he greeted, letting the towel drop to the floor.

Buffy squeaked in surprise when she heard it hit the ground. She willed herself not to peek, although the thought was strangely tempting.

When she finally heard him zip himself up, she opened one eye, and then the other. He was now standing there in just his jeans, thumbs hitched onto his belt rings. He also had a few noticeable bruises on his chest and face.

"What are you doing here, love? Why aren't you in school?"

Too many questions. Naked Spike. Ahhh!

"Huh? Oh! School. I, umm... well, I'm not there right now," she stated the obvious.

"Sorta got that part," he frowned. "Why not?"

She was entirely meaning to bitch at him for beating up Riley, but the following words slipped out before she could stop them:

"You asked Willow to the Prom!"

Spike just stared at her a bit, cocking his head to the side, as if deeply scrutinizing her.

"So, you're saying, you ditched school and climbed through my bedroom window... just to remind me that I asked Red to Prom?" he wondered, unconvinced.

"Oh, and because you beat up Riley."

Spike rolled his eyes.

"If that's what you came for, then you can just mosey on off, because --"

"Heh. Mosey."

He sighed. Buffy straightened.

"Anyway," he continued. "Finn's lucky I didn't kill him. But I can promise that if he lays so much as a finger on you, I won't be as kind."

"Wait, so you're gonna murder the guy? And why did you ask Willow to the Prom again?"

Spike just chuckled softly and sat down on his bed.

"Why does it bother you so much? It's what you wanted, 'innit?"

"Sure! I - I mean, it is, but... didn't I lose?"

"Yeah."

"So why did you ask her anyway?"

"Felt like it is all."

She sighed.

"Well, that was nice of you. I suppose."

Spike raised an eyebrow and looked up at her.

"So! The Riley thing. I can't believe you got suspended," she huffed, sitting next to him on the bed.

"Yeah, well, it was bloody worth it. You should have seen the look on his face," he grinned.

Buffy smiled, despite herself.

"Wish I could have been there."

"Are you gonna press charges?" he wondered.

"Huh? Oh, no... I don't think so. I mean, he didn't hurt me or anything."

"Right. Being punched in the face is by all means pleasure-inducing."

She rolled her eyes.

"I just mean that he didn't go through with it. It's not worth ruining my senior for that asshole."

"I see your point," he relented.

Buffy let out a tired sigh, and suddenly leaned over and rested her head on Spike's bare shoulder. He froze at the contact.

"I'm tired..." she whispered, nuzzling her soft hair against his skin.

Spike sucked in a breath and swallowed hard.

"You, uh... wanna take a nap?" he asked softly, gesturing to the bed they were sitting upon.

She lifted her head and glanced at the jiggling water bed.

"Tempting," she admitted. "But let's do something fun instead."

His eyes widened a bit, wondering what type of fun she had in mind.

"Fun?" he gulped.

"Yeah. We could see a movie or something? Or hang out at the mall. Or I know! Let's go to the library and look up newspaper articles from the 1800s!" she beamed.

"Tragic thing is, you're serious..." he cringed.

"Nah, I was just kidding about the movie/mall idea."

Spike smiled and stood up, stretching out his sore limbs. Buffy gawked at him, getting fuzzy feelings in the pit of her stomach. When he noticed her eyeing his half-naked form, she quickly looked away, flustered.

"So, um, mall then?" she inquired, standing up and heading towards the window.

"Sure. And I do have a door, love," he reminded.

"Right," she replied, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

Spike then pulled a black t-shirt over his head, and followed Buffy out the door.

~~~
 

"Oooh!" Buffy giggled in delight. "101 Brain Teasers: Calculus Style!"

Spike quickly grabbed the over-excited teenager, and pulled out of the educational store by the arm.

"Hey! I was enjoying myself!" she pouted, as he dragged her through the large mall.

"If that's your idea of fun, then you were better off in school," he sighed, finally letting her go when they were a reasonable distance away.

Buffy just huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. They had been out all day and it was now almost closing time. After seeing a movie, eating dinner at the food court, and browsing the different stores, Buffy was extremely worn out.

"We should probably get going," she suggested, linking her arm through his.

Spike smiled at his date for the evening.

"Yeah, it is gettin' late," he agreed.

As the reached the main exit, Buffy suddenly smacked her head in disbelief.

"Oh, my god! I totally forgot to pick up Grandma's birthday present!" she groaned, as they walked out of the mall.

"Come again?"

"I promised my mom I would pick up a present for Grandma after school today. Her birthday's tomorrow and I didn't get her anything!"

Spike contemplated his options.

"Well, since the mall's closing, I could zip by Wal-Mart if you'd like..." he reasoned.

Buffy beamed.

"Could you really?"

"Don't see how it's a problem."

"Yay! Thanks, Spike!" she exclaimed, giving his arm a light squeeze.

As they pulled into the store's parking lot, Spike parked the car and they both headed inside.

"The store will be closing in ten minutes," came a voice over the intercom.

"Crap," Buffy muttered, and quickly began perusing the isles.

Spike followed closely behind, his hands in his duster pocket.

"So, what's the grandma like?" he inquired, picking up various items off shelves and setting them back down.

"Hmm, good question. All I know is that her cat hates me and that she smells funny."

"That's all you know?"

"Well, they're the two things that stick out," she alleged.

As they continued to search for a random gift, Buffy spotted the outdoors section in the back of the store. A nostalgic look came over her.

"You, uh, wanna get your grandmother bug spray and a tent?" he wondered, noticing her hesitation.

Buffy approached and looked up at the assorted sleeping bags and camping necessities.

"My dad promised me he'd take my camping when I was little," she explained, her voice low. "Then my parents divorced and things got kinda crazy. Well, a few months later he called up and told me he was going to pick me up that weekend for a camping trip in the mountains. I don't think I'd ever been that excited," she smiled. "Mom took me to all the big camping stores in the area and we picked out all kinds of stuff. Everything from my Cinderella sleeping bag to a flashlight with extra batteries since I was afraid of the dark.

Anyway, Saturday morning came, and I was up at the crack of dawn. I remember it took me hours the night before to pack. Everything had to be just right for our special trip. Soon lunchtime came around, and I was sitting on the couch, looking out the window. I had my backpack on, my hiking shoes were all tied up, and I had the biggest smile on my face. I couldn't wait until I saw his green car pull into the driveway."

Spike stepped closer to her, noticing the glazed look in her eyes.

"Well, lunchtime came and went, but he still hadn't shown. Before I knew it, it was already time for dinner. I could tell Mom was worried about me since I hadn't left my spot on the couch all day. Still, she didn't say a word. I wish she had though, because maybe it would have knocked some sense into me. It wasn't until almost 8:30 that night when I realized he wasn't coming. I hadn't eaten, gone to the bathroom, or anything that entire time. Just sat on the couch, looking out the window for his green car. But it never came. And I haven't talked to him since."

She took a deep breath, as she finished her story. Spike knew she was trying to hold back her tears, and he went over to comfort her somehow. But she held out a shaky hand, stilling him.

"I'm fine," she lied. "Just a little bitter I guess."

"Buffy..."

But before he could get another word in, the lights suddenly went out. They realized then that they were the only people left in the store, and that they must have missed the five minute announcement.

"Uh, this can't be good," he rationalized, trying to see amongst the darkness.

"Spike? I - I can't see you. What the hell is going on? Don't they check to see if there's still people in the store before locking them in?!"

"Give me your hand," he told her.

"I can't see your hand!"

Spike sighed and reached out to her, accidentally groping at her chest.

"Uh, not my hand..."

"Bloody hell," he grumbled, before finally snatching her tiny wrist.

Buffy immediately latched onto him, holding onto his arm for dear life.

"Maybe there's a manager left or something," she tried, her eyes starting to adjust to the dark.

"Not likely."

"Oh god," she whined, swallowing hard. "That means we stuck here all night!"

"Calm down, love. Just look on the bright side."

"Bright side? What bright side?! All I see is pitch blackness!"

"We are in the camping department, you know..." he reminded her.

She frowned.

"So you're suggesting we pull out some sleeping bags and call it a night?"

"Exactly."

Buffy looked around the vacant store, wondering how she got into these types of situations. With a deep sigh, she finally gave in.

"Think they have Cinderella?"

"Ow!" Spike yelped, as Buffy crashed right into him from behind.

"Sorry! Sorry," she apologized, quickly taking a step back. "I just can't see anything is all."

"Hence why we're on the hunt for a flashlight, love."

Spike flicked his lighter once more, trying to use the fluid sparingly. It was all they had until they found a better source of light.

"I hate this. I really hate this. Why does this kinda stuff always happen to me?" Buffy pouted, holding her arms out so she didn't topple any displays over.

"It's not so bad," he reasoned. "Could be worse, you know."

"Right. Giant spiders crawling all over my face would be much worse."

They rounded another corner, as Spike held out his lighter to illuminate the shelve's contents.

"Here we are."

"You found them?" she asked, hopefully.

"Sure did. On sale too."

"Finally," she sighed. "I can supply the batteries."

Buffy snatched a calculator out of her purse and popped out two "AA" batteries from the back. She handed them to Spike, as he ripped open the box, and he placed them inside. In moments, light surrounded them.

Buffy breathed deeply with relief, as Spike brought the flashlight to his face.

"Still afraid of the dark, pet?" he asked, while eerie shadows danced across the store.

She shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

"Yes, if you must know. Stop being all creepy."

Spike just chuckled and headed back to the camping department, Buffy right on his heels.

"You're walking too fast!" she complained, quickly latching on to his arm.

"Quit your whining. We'll be out of here by morning."

"Oh, god! What do I tell my mother??" she wondered, horrified.

He shrugged, not really able to think of a believable lie.

"Truth, I reckon."

"You know this is the last time you'll ever seem me, right? You do realize I'll be dead by tomorrow afternoon?"

"Will you ditch the drama, Buffy? I don't fancy bein' here as much as you, but we don't have much of a choice."

"Fine. Sorry," she grumbled.

They finally made their way to the back of the store, and Spike began pulling sleeping bags off of a shelf. Buffy tapped her foot impatiently, hesitantly glancing around the darkness.

"There," he said, ripping away the plastic on their makeshift beds. "You take green, I'll take blue."

"They both look black to me," she frowned.

He shined the flashlight in their direction.

"Oh."

With a sigh, Buffy kneeled down, and gingerly unrolled her sleeping bag, while Spike did the same. She quickly crawled in and zipped it up to her chin.

"How uncomfortable!" she complained. "Don't these things come with built-in pillows or something?"

Spike didn't think he could take anymore of her incessant prattling.

"This isn't a bloody Bed and Breakfast, Summers. It's Wal-Mart. And these are sleeping bags. So shut your gob," he tried, slipping inside of his own sleeping bag. It was silent for a few moments as they both lay there.

"Really is quite uncomfortable, 'innit?" he admitted.

"Yuh-huh."

They both sighed, and Buffy inched herself and her make-shift bed towards the man resting beside her. He glanced at her.

"Something wrong?" he wondered, when she finally reached him.

"Just lonely, I suppose."

"Lonely? We've been layin' here for no more than thirty seconds. 'Sides, you're only like a foot away," he reasoned.

She curled up beside him, resting her small head against his chest. He shut his mouth.

"Are you and Cecily together?" she suddenly questioned, feeling the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.

He tensed.

"Uh, no. Cecily and I... well, it's complicated, love."

"I have a 4.0," she reminded him. "Nothing is too complicated."

He sighed and nodded in defeat.

"We go way back," he started. "Dated off an on for about a year. Then I found out that she cheated on me with an exchange student from Italy. Not the greatest ego boost. So I broke things off, and we went our seperate ways. Then this past week I'd been hearin' rumors of sorts that she still harbored feelings for me. I guess I just took the opportunity to try and make it work again."

"And did you? Make it work, I mean," she asked, a bit hesitant.

"No. We're two different people now. And besides, I don't love her anymore."

"You - you loved her?"

"Once upon a time," he mused, gazing up at the pitch black ceiling.

Buffy nodded. Then a new thought entered her mind. One that had been plaguing her all day.

"Why did you ask Willow to Prom?" she inquired. "And tell me the truth."

"You wanted me to," he shrugged.

"But you won, remember?"

"How could I forget?" he grinned.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious." "Listen. I thought I'd do the bookworm a favor. She seems nice enough, and she's friends with you. Can't be all that bad, eh?"

"No, I mean... that's not what I meant. Willow's great. I just thought... I dunno, you'd take someone like Cordelia to Prom."

"Chase? Hardly. The chit's a bleeding pain in the ass."

"Then why are you friends with her?"

"We're not quite friends. More like acquaintances. And what's with the sudden interrogation, anyway?"

Buffy shifted against him.

"I'm just curious is all. But it's nothing. Forget it."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged.

Buffy closed her eyes, wondering why exactly she was so curious. She decided she'd dwell on it come morning.

"Goodnight, Spike," she whispered, letting the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat guide her to sleep.

"'Night, Summers."

~~~

It took Buffy a moment to realize where she was when her eyes suddenly opened. She glanced down at the body beside her, as she lifted her head off of his chest.

Spike. She was laying beside Spike in a sleeping bag on a hard cement floor. And it was really, really dark. It occurred to her then that she was trapped inside Wal-Mart and that a strange noise and awoken her. She strained her ears, listening for the sound once again.

Only it wasn't just a sound. It was... a voice. Voices. Lots of them.

Both panicked and relieved, she began to shake Spike awake. He stirred a bit, shifting in his bag.

"The bloody hamster..." he mumbled, turning to face the opposite direction.

Buffy rolled her eyes, shaking him harder.

"Spike!" she whispered, harshly. "Wake up!"

His eyes finally began to flutter open and rolled onto his back. He was startled to see Buffy's face staring down at him.

"Love? What's wrong?" he wondered, his voice still groggy from sleep.

"Someone's here," she told him. "I heard voices."

"It's probably just--"

He then, too, heard the voices. They were men. Probably more than three of them.

"Maybe it's security or something. Maybe we can go home!" she said, hopefully, opening her mouth to call out to them.

Spike quickly rose a hand to cover it.

"That's not security."

Her eyes widened at his statement. What was he implying? Who else would be here at this time of night?

Spike hesitantly lowered his hand from her mouth, bringing his lips close to her ear.

"We need to hide," he whispered to her.

Her heart was pounding.

"What are you saying? Who are those people?" she demanded, keeping her voice as low as possible.

"I don't know. But I don't want to find out either."

"Are they... robbers?" she gulped, unconsciously latching onto Spike's arm.

The voices became more prominant, as if they were heading their way.

"Me and Jimmy'll take this side," a husky voice instructed. "Don't fuckin' make a sound. And if you see anyone, waste 'em."

Buffy's eyes widened in terror.

"Oh god. Oh, my god..." her voice trembled, holding onto Spike for dear life. "Wh-what do we do?"

"As I said before, we gotta hide. Follow me," he told her, fear lacing his words.

"Spike, I don't wanna die," she whimpered, standing up on shaking legs.

"You're not gonna die, love. Just keep your voice low and stay close." She nodded numbly, tears beginning to form in her eyes. They disappeared deep into the darkness, feeling their way through the endless isles.

"Do you see them? I-I can't see them," she stuttered. "Can you see them?"

"Shhh," he admonished. "I can't see a bloody thing."

"Oh god..."

"We need to get to some sort of utility closet or something," he told her. "Know of any?"

"Um, I-I... I don't know. There's a fitting room a little ways ahead, I think."

Spike nodded. He then turned around a placed a tender kiss upon her forehead.

"We're gonna get through this, you hear?"

He couldn't see much, but he saw her eyes. And he saw the terror that dwelled inside of them. Nevertheless, she gave him a small nod.

"Good then," he said, turning back around. "Now all we gotta do is--"

Clunk!

They both froze. Buffy had tripped over a fallen item.

"You hear that?" a voice said, coming from behind them. "Tony, check it out."

Spike grabbed Buffy's wrist and jerked her forward, dashing towards the fitting room that lie just a few feet ahead.

"Get in," he told her, urgently, opening up one of the grey doors.

"Spike, I--"

He pushed her inside and followed suit, quietly shutting the door behind them.

"What if they find us? What do we do?"

Spike ignored her.

"Get on that. Don't let them see your feet," he ordered, gesturing to a small, narrow bench.

She forced her body to move and stepped up onto the wobbly bench.

"It won't hold us both," Spike decided, helping her up the rest of the way.

Buffy paled.

"What? Yes, it will! Get up!"

"I'll be right next door, alright? You'll be fine."

"No! Spike, please. Don't leave me!" she begged, her words desperate.

Before he could argue with her, footsteps made way to their ears. Buffy's breath caught in her throat. Spike quickly slid underneath to the adjacent room and mounted the bench, before Buffy could get another word in.

The footsteps became louder, nearer. Buffy had never been more scared in her entire life. Her legs just wouldn't stop shaking as she stood upon the fragile piece of wood.

"I don't see no one!" the man named Tony called out, frustrated. "Waste of my fuckin' time."

The footsteps began to retreat. Buffy began to breathe. When it seemed like the coast was clear, she carefully stepped down off of the bench and slithered her way underneath the room's divider. She looked up at Spike, who was standing above her.

"Summers, get up! They'll see you!" he growled.

"I-I think he's gone."

Just then, the door whipped open and a burly, bald man stood before them. Buffy screamed.

"Maybe not a complete waste," he leered, and snatched Buffy roughly by the arm, dragging her out of the room.

Spike immediately lunged at Buffy's attacker, but was greeted with a fist to his face. He fell backwards and hit his head on the bench, rendering him unconscious.

"No!" Buffy cried, struggling to break free. "Get off me, you son of a bitch!"

"Mmm, fiesty. My favorite," he grinned. "Boss is gonna like you."

He held her squirming body around the waist, carrying her off to another part of the store.

"Spike!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, but was cut off by a large, dirty hand clasping over her mouth. She bit down hard.

"Christ! You little bitch," he bellowed, throwing her down on the ground.

She dazedly tried to stand, but her efforts were fruitless. He picked her up again, tossing her over his bulky shoulder. She stared ahead of her, hoping to see Spike emerge from the stall, coming to her rescue. But he didn't. A strangled cry erupted deep in her throat, but she choked it back, trying her best to stay strong.

"Heya, Boss. Lookie what I found," Tony snarked, throwing Buffy back on the floor again.

She swallowed hard, as three hungry faces stared down at her.

"Please don't hurt me," she pleaded softly, but her request only induced an uproar of laughter. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"You know, sweet thing, we only came here to steal some stuff. So this is really all your fault."

Her eyes opened.

"I-I promise not to tell anyone. Just let us go a-and--"

"Us?" the tallest man wondered, glancing threateningly over at Tony.

"Yeah, man. She was here with some dude. I knocked him out."

"You didn't kill him?"

Buffy's stomach dropped.

"Uh, no--he's still alive."

"He saw you and you let him live?" the man barked, advancing on Tony.

"I'll get rid of him. Not a problem," he offered, holding out his hands.

"No, please!" Buffy begged. "Please don't hurt him."

"It's alright," he cooed, getting right into her face. "You'll get to watch."

Tony and Jimmy laughed at the horrified expression on the young girl's face. They then turned around and headed towards the fitting rooms. Buffy tried to get up again, but was pushed down by a strong hand.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you, sugar. There's nothing you can do for lover boy now," he smiled.

The two men entered the room.

"He's over here," Tony said, opening the door all the way. "What the hell?"

"What is it?" Jimmy asked, chomping on a piece of chewing gum.

"The bastard's gone."

"Shit," Jimmy cursed. "You let 'em get away!"

"This ain't my fault! I thought I knocked him out cold."

Before he could get another word in, Tony went down, hitting the floor with a sickening thud. Jimmy whipped his head up, eyes wide. He went to yell, but was smacked upside the head with a baseball bat. He fell, face first, on top of his partner.

Buffy cowered as the man loomed over her petite form. She didn't like the way he was looking her. But suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. A movement. A familiar presence. Hope filled her heart.

"You know," he suggested, waggling his tongue at her. "If you're real generous, I might not kill you so painfully."

"Not gonna happen," came a voice, making the tall, luggish man whirl around.

Buffy's eyes lit up when she saw Spike standing before them with a baseball bat.

"Well, if it ain't the tragic hero of this here show. Come to watch?"

"Come to kick your soddin' ass. Lay a finger on the lady and you're as good as dead, mate," he threatened, taking a cautious step forward.

"Oh, yeah?" he grinned, picking Buffy up by the hair. She struggled.

Spike started forward, but the man quickly pulled a knife out of his pocket, resting it at her throat. Spike stopped in his tracks, fear coursing through him for the second time that night.

"She your girl?" he asked wickedly, pressing the cold blade against her sensitive flesh.

Spike just stood there, swallowing hard.

"I said, is she your girl," he demanded, pressing harder.

"No, she's--"

"No? So then you won't mind if I do this..."

He then lifted her shirt with a forceful tug, and began to fondle her breast with a pudgy hand. Spike closed his eyes, his fists clenching.

"Oh yeah, she likes that," he sing-songed, as Buffy tried to fight and claw her way out of his demoralizing grasp. "Bet you wish you were me right now, eh?"

"That's enough," he spat, fire in his eyes.

He looked at him and smiled. "Jealous?"

That did it. Spike darted forward with alarming speed, tackling the beefy man to the ground. His knife clattered to the floor along with Buffy, and she quickly scurried away from him, biting back tears. She watched as the two men battled it out, fists flying left and right. Spike was on top of him now, his hands tightly wound around the man's neck. But the position didn't last long, as two legs went up and kicked Spike across the store. He crashed into a display, as boxes of laundry detergent spilled on top of him.

The man then grabbed the knife and started stalking towards her fallen friend. Before she could make a move, two strong arms grabbed her from behind. She kicked her legs, trying to get free, but it was useless.

"Just watch," Tony whispered in her ear, an amused smile on his face. Then he added for good measure: "Kill him, Ernie!"

Spike stood up, punching his attacker in the face as hard as he could, making him reel backwards. Ernie fell to the ground, momentarily stunned, giving Spike the chance to free Buffy. He ran over to her, blood dripping down his nose.

"Let her go," he ordered, looking at Tony with wild eyes.

"Yeah, right."

"Oh, I think right," Buffy countered, twisting in his grip and kneeing him hard in the groin. She then cocked her fist backwards and punched him clear across the jaw, yelling in pain as she did so. Tony doubled over, while Spike was immediately at her side.

"Ow, ow, ow!" she cried, waving her stinging hand wildly through the air.

"Always knew that lead fist of yours would come in handy," he grinned, kicking Tony in the gut for good measure.

She smiled, despite herself, cradling her sore hand to her chest. But when she glanced up, she screamed in horror.

"Spike!"

He whirled around, only to feel the sharp tip of a blade pierce his flesh.

"NO!!" Buffy screeched, her whole world crashing down around her.

Spike clutched his stomach in disbelief, as the knife was pulled sharply out of his gut. Fresh blood pooled out, staining his hands with the thick, red fluid. He then turned to Buffy, choking out a final word before he fell:

"Buffy."

She watched, practically catatonic, as the man before her crumpled at her feet. At that moment, the only thought in her mind was revenge. With a heart-wrenching wail, she lunged at Spike's assailant, fury evident in her eyes. She leaped onto his back, pulling at his hair, scratching at his face--whatever she could get her hands on. Flesh tore beneath her fingernails, producing a snarl from the man she wanted to kill with every fiber of her being. But her attack didn't last long, as she was suddenly flying backwards through the air. She hit the ground hard, all the breath she contained being knocked out of her lungs. Dizziness overtook her, along with the urge to close her eyes and never wake up.

But she fought back. She surveyed her environment for something to use as a weapon, when her eyes caught site of a flash of red on a nearby wall. Perfect. Using all her energy to stand up, she dashed over to the fire alarm, and pulled it down as hard as she could. The store lit up with sirens, the loud buzzing almost deafening.

Ernie's eyes went wide, as Tony stood up on sore legs. Jimmy quickly joined the duo, and the three men were out the door in a flash.

Buffy didn't spare them a glance. She rushed over to Spike, a limp to her step, and kneeled down beside him.

"Spike? Spike? Oh god," she sobbed, tears freely making their way down her rosy cheeks. She placed her hands against his wound, applying pressure, trying to think of what to do next. The cops would be there any moment, and maybe--just maybe--there was a chance. "Spike?" she whispered, her voice cracking. She pressed down harder on his stomach, desperately trying to stop the blood flow. "Spike, please! Get up!" She then lifted a bloodied hand, and placed two fingers against his neck, feeling for a pulse. Relief washed over her when she felt it, as weak as it was.

He needed to get to a hospital. Fast.

As soon as that thought crossed her mind, the sound of two doors crashing open echoed in her ears. She screamed, immediately fearing for her life, but relaxed when she realized who it was.

A cop approached, kneeling beside her and Spike.

"My god, what happened?" he asked, noticing the blood pouring out of the unconscious victim.

"He-he got stabbed," she stammered. "Please, don't let him die."

He said something into his walky-talky and hooked it back onto his belt. "I'm Officer Gabriel. Help is on the way," he assured her.

She nodded numbly, her hands still covering Spike's wound. Officer Gabriel studied her, wondering what these two were doing inside of a Wal-Mart at 3:30 in the morning.

"How did this happen?" he asked, as two large fire trucks pulled up in front of the store.

Buffy swallowed hard, trying to push the past night's memories out of her mind forever.

"Men," she told him. "They were burglars. We-we got trapped in here and there were burglars." She didn't know if she was making any sense, but she didn't care. All she cared about was him.

"And they stabbed your friend?"

"They wanted to kill us. They said they were going to kill us."

He gave her a worried look, just as more men entered the building. They all rushed over to the scene of the crime, holding numerous bags of medical equipment.

Buffy watched as they exchanged words and terminology she didn't understand. They ripped off Spike's shirt, and Buffy regretfully wondered why she didn't think of that.

"Pulse is getting weaker by the second," one of the men informed the others. "We have to move."

And then Spike was being lifted onto a stretcher, an oxygen mask around his mouth. Buffy stood with them. She needed to know.

"Wait," she said so softly, she was surprised anyone heard her at all.

Officer Gabriel stopped and turned around, as Spike was carried to the ambulance.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she muttered, "Is he gonna die?"

He just studied her for a moment, a poignant look in his eyes. And then he walked away.