"Bloody hell!" Spike cursed, pounding on the steering wheel for the fiftieth time.

The ignition revved in promise, but quickly faded, leaving Spike stranded in Buffy's driveway. He had tried everything to get the car to start, but with no such luck.

"Damnit!" he yelled again, getting out of the car and slamming the door. He sifted his hands through his blonde locks, wanting nothing more than to pull the delicate strands out of his head.

With a frustrated growl, he brought back his leg and kicked the black Mustang with all the energy he had inside of him. Unforunately, his actions caused some stitches to pull and Spike doubled over in pain.

"Fucking wonderful," he forced out, the pain raking over his entire body. He leaned against the car for support, holding a hand over his re-opened wound. "Guess that qualifies as somethin' strenuous."

Fresh blood seeped through his dark blue shirt, causing Spike to laugh at his miserable luck. He supposed he deserved it for completely botching up any chance he ever had with the devestated girl inside.

With a sigh, he stood himself up on his own, and wobbled towards Buffy's front porch. He wasn't going to ask for her help--he just needed to get to a phone. His father wasn't working tonight so maybe he could come pick him up. He knocked on the door with the little strength he could muster, hoping she would at least answer it.

"Buffy, open up," he called out, feeling the dark fluid begin to coat his hands. "I need to use the phone."

No answer.

"I'm serious, Summers! I'm hurtin' out here!"

Buffy sat in a heap on the floor, staring blankly at the wall. She scolded herself for the millionth time that night for even caring about the bleached idiot, but she couldn't help herself. She felt used and violated and it was even worse because it was by someone she trusted. Someone she cared about. Spike.

Just then she heard knocking at the front door.

"Buffy, open up. I need to use the phone."

You have a cell. Use it.

"I'm serious, Summers! I'm hurtin' out here!"

You're hurting? Asshole.

Buffy stood up then, planning on retiring to her room for the night. Maybe some sleep would make the feeling of ultimate betrayal go away. Probably not, but she was up for anything at the moment.

She passed the door and headed towards the staircase, wiping the drying tears from off her face.

"Buffy!"

"Go away!" she finally called back.

Just when she reached the top of the staircase, something made her turn around. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but she frowned and headed back down, despite herself.

With a frustrated groan, she unlocked the door and yanked it open, only to have the man standing outside practically fall into her arms.

"Spike! What are you--" she started, catching him as he teetered forward. That's when she noticed the blood dripping down at her feet. "Oh, my god."

"I-It's nothin'," he lied, trying to make himself stand up straight. "Just pulled a stitch or two."

"Here," she quickly said, helping to carry him over to the couch. "I'll call an amubulance."

He grabbed her arm before she could walk away. "I'm not goin' back there," he told her firmly.

"Spike, you're about to pass out. You need a doctor."

"No," he ground out, his eyes starting to flutter close. "Just..." He swallowed, trying his best to retain consciousness. "... help me."

Buffy stared at him, trying not to let her emotions get in the way of what she had to do. Finally, she nodded.

"I'll help you."

~~~

The sun peeked in through a nearby window, causing Spike to stir awake. He opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was laying in a bed... somewhere, and his shirt was off. Did he get drunk and pass out?

He tried to sit up and held back a groan of pain, forcing him to lay back down.

Oh, right. He glanced down at his stomach and frowned in confusion when he noticed he was all stitched up. Was this Buffy's doing? He realized then that he was in her room, sleeping in her bed. It was already morning, but Buffy was nowhere to be found.

Forcing his aching body to move, he leaned over the side of the bed, in an attempt to stand up. Only he quickly brought his feet back up, so as not to step on the small blonde girl laying beneath them.

Buffy shifted in her place on the floor, resting on a pillow and a quilt her mother had made. She opened her eyes, unsure of what woke her, and rolled onto her back.

She saw Spike come into frame above her and immediately sat up.

"You're awake," she said simply, standing up and taking the quilt with her.

He didn't say anything and just looked at her, unsure of what to do.

"You were out for a while," she continued, looking down at her perfectly painted toenails. "A-Are you feeling okay?"

"A bit sore," he finally spoke. "Did you do this?"

She raised her head. "Um, yeah. You said you didn't want to see a doctor, so..." She paused. "But it was nothing. You didn't do too much damage, thankfully."

"What did you do exactly?" he wondered, edging off the bed until this feet touched the floor.

"I, uh... sewed you back up."

"You know how to sew?" he asked, arching a brow. "More specifically, people?"

"What do you think a girl like me does with her Saturday afternoons?" she smiled faintly. "And the people thing is irrevelant."

"Right. Because cotton fabric and human flesh are one in the same."

"That's not what I meant," she frowned. "I'm just saying, it's not as hard as it looks. Just some needle and thread and an understanding of what you're doing and... well, all better. I-I mean, you might want a doctor to check it out or something just in case, but you should be okay."

Spike just looked at her incredulously.

"Well, uh, thanks," he said, once again owing her his life.

She nodded. "But you should go. Mom will be home any minute and blood's a bitch to get out of the carpet."

"She's not back yet? Isn't it like... the next day?"

"She usually pulls all-nighters every Friday. I'm used to it," Buffy explained.

"I see," he replied, then stopped to look around the room. "Have you, uh, seen my shirt?"

Buffy blushed slightly and headed to the opposite side of the bed. She picked up the blood-soaked material and handed it to him.

"If you want, I have some big t-shirts that I usually wear to bed. That doesn't exactly looked comfy," she told him, opening up her dresser.

He just nodded his head, and pulled himself up to his feet.

"Buffy, can we talk?" he asked, her back to him.

"No, I don't think so. I have a lot of work to do today. Chores and whatnot."

"I'm sure they can wait a minute or so."

She shook her head. "I should get them done."

Suddenly he was behind her, turning her around to face him.

"What happened with Cecily... it didn't mean anything," he confessed, looking into her eyes.

"Spike, I don't want to hear it," she snapped, pulling her arm from his grasp.

He snatched it back. "Listen to me, Summers. I don't want you to think that I... used you or somethin' or the sort. That's not what happened."

"Could have fooled me."

"It's not," he insisted. "I don't know what exactly happened between us, but I didn't mean to hurt you. You left in such a rush that night, I figured you never wanted to see me again."

"So you move on to the next available thing with tits and heartbeat?" she spat at him, the emotions welling up inside of her.

"No, of course not. Cecily was... well, she was all over me and..."

"Really don't want to hear this," she cut him off.

"Look, I'm sorry is all. Cecily's got nothin' on you."

Buffy looked up at him then.

"And what does that mean exactly?"

Good question. What did it mean? He knew he was attracted to her, and he knew that he cared about her more than life itself, but...

"Forget it," she whispered, noticing the hesitation on his face. She started to remove herself from his grasp, but he stopped her again.

"What do you want it to mean?"

She practically melted in his arms, as she stared up into his soft blue eyes. She didn't know what the hell she wanted. Although her body's reaction to his touch completely contradicted that theory...

"I-I--" she stuttered, eyes fixed on his parted lips. She unconsciously licked her own, swallowing hard.

God, she wanted him to kiss her. It was so wrong, but she wanted it more than anything. All she thought about since that night was the way his body felt pressed up against her own and how his tongue woke up startling new sensations inside of her. She never felt that way before. Not even when she was with Riley for that brief period of time. She never once wanted him to wrap his arms around her and kiss her senseless. But now she did. Spike made her feel things she never thought possible. And the way he was looking at her...

Buffy didn't let herself think. In an instant, her arms were around his neck and she was pulling his face to her own. She closed her eyes, and moaned softly when his lips crashed against hers.

Spike was completely taken aback by her boldness. She was usually so shy and reserved. But here she was, her little body squirming against his, and her tongue pushing it's way into his mouth. He groaned, taking her and shoving her up against the wall. She immediately wrapped her legs around his waist and Spike's hands tangled in her hair, angling her head so he could taste all of her. She let go of him for a moment to pull her shirt up over her head, so her breasts were pressed up against his naked torso. Spike's eyes practically rolled to the back of his head at the contact and he briefly wondered what he was getting himself into.

Buffy didn't care what she was getting herself into. Her body burned for him in a way she never thought possible and she didn't want the feeling to end. As their tongues battled for dominance, she reached down and began fumbling with his belt buckle.

Spike noticed her ministrations, and instantly froze. He pulled his mouth away from hers, watching as her eyes fluttered open.

"Buffy," he said gently, taking her confused face in his hands.

"Did... did I do something wrong?" Her voice was filled with insecurities and Spike kicked himself for what he was about to do.

"No, love. Of course not," he told her, leaning in and placing a chaste kiss upon her lips. "I just think we're moving a little too fast."

She frowned. "You don't want me?"

What? Was she insane?

"Want you? Summers, I've never wanted anything more."

"Then why did you stop?" she asked, feeling more than a little self-conscious.

He sighed and set her down, watching as the different emotions played across her face.

"Because you're not ready."

This struck a chord in Buffy and she quickly reached down and picked up her shirt, pulling it over her head in record time.

"How dare you," she seethed, glaring up at him, tiny fists clenching. "How dare you tell me what I am."

"I didn't mean--"

"Shut up," she spat, never feeling more rejected in her life. "Is this what you do to all girls? Get them all worked up and then turn them down?"

"Of course no--"

"Or maybe it's just me. You did it before."

"We were fourteen years old!" he reminded her.

"Well, we're not anymore!"

He saw the fury in her eyes, and he couldn't help but look away. It was silent for a moment before she continued.

"You need to leave," she said, raising her head high.

Spike just looked at her. He couldn't believe she was taking it so personally.

"Buffy, I only did it because I care about you. I didn't want you to make a mistake and I don't want to see you get hurt again.
I--"

"I said go!" she cut him off, holding back her tears. She wouldn't let him see her cry.

Spike finally took a hint and nodded his head, taking a step back.

"As you wish," he murmured, picking up his shirt and walking out the door.

"Now the bloody things starts," Spike mumbled, high-tailing out of Buffy's driveway as fast as he could. The further he got away from her the better.

He couldn't believe what a bitch she was being! First she gets all brassed off because he doesn't stop, and now when he does, she kicks him out! Sodding bint.

He was better off without her, he decided. All she did was confuse him, and complicate his already screwed up existence. Sure, she may be beautiful and smart and the best kisser in the world, but she was also stubborn and absolutely impossible to be around.

Spike sighed in exasperation, wondering what exactly this girl did to him. Deciding to ban Buffy from his brain for the rest of the day, he pulled into his driveway, stormed into the house, and locked himself in his room.

~~~

Buffy paced her bedroom floor, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. She couldn't believe him! How dare he awaken a new and exciting feeling inside of her and then tell that she's "not ready". He knew nothing about her! Asshole.

She was better off without him. All he did was make her frustrated and angry, and she just so did not need that kind of drama right now. High school was almost over and that's where her mind should be. Not on some egotistical moron who wasn't even worth her time of day. Sure, he may be sexy and funny and the best kisser in the world, but he was also stubborn and absolutely impossible to be around.

Suddenly the phone rang, and Buffy picked it up with a growl.

"What," she said harshly into the receiver.

"Buffy?" Willow asked faintly on the other end.

She sighed, trying to gain control of her emotions.

"Sorry, Will. Bad morning. What's up?"

"Oh, well, I was just wondering if you wanted to hit the mall this afternoon. I still need to get my dress and stuff."

"Actually, a mall day sounds like a good idea," Buffy commented, thankful for the distraction. Shopping should take her mind off things.

"Coolness! I'll pick you up around noon, okay?"

"Sounds good. Bye, Willow."

"See ya!" she replied, and the two hung up the phone.

Buffy approached her bed and sat down, running her hands through her tangled hair. She felt like crying and screaming at the same time. What was she feeling for Spike? What was he feeling for her? Whatever it was, the feeling was obviously not mutual. He completely shot her down, which was humiliating--not to mention quite the ego bruiser. She had never done anything like that with a man before. And when she finally gets the courage to make a move, she's denied. By Spike of all people!

"Arrrgh!" she growled, practically ripping out her hair.

Whatever. She didn't care. Spike may think he can win the hearts of many by playing his stupid games, but he wouldn't be winning her heart any time soon. Sure, she still cared about him. She always would.

But that didn't mean she had to like him.

~~~

"I was thinking a minty-green color," Willow commented, browsing the many different stores. "What do you think, Buffy?"

She snapped her head up. "What?"

"I was just wondering if you think I should go green. Or maybe red?"

"Oh, right. Um, green," she decided, her mind elsewhere.

Willow noticed her friend's lack of interest and sighed. Buffy had been totally distant from her lately and she wasn't sure why. Hopefully, she could get it out of her today.

"Let's go to the food court. I'm starved," the red head suggested, snatching Buffy by the wrist and scurrying off towards the array of fast food joints.

"I'm not hungry," Buffy said, sitting down at a nearby booth.

Willow shrugged and skipped off, shortly coming back with a tray of Chinese food.

"You should at least eat something. Here," she offered, handing her an egg roll. "You can have this."

Buffy smiled faintly and took the snack, having no intention of actually eating it. Willow cleared her throat, getting into girl talk mode.

"So, I see that you're pissed at me. Although I'm not all that sure why," she began. "Care to fill me in? You know how slow I can be."

The blonde frowned. "I'm not mad at you, Will. Why do you think that?"

"You're being totally bad moody towards me. Even Xander asked if we were imploding and he's even slower."

"It's not you. There's just some... stuff going on in my life right now. I'm sorry if I took it out on you."

"Well, whatever it is, you can tell me. I won't judge you. I'm not the judgey type."

Buffy looked down at the table, unsure whether or not to inform Willow of her past indiscretions with Spike. Then she looked up, wondering why she even had to think about it.

"Okay," she finally replied, sitting up straight in her seat. "It's about Spike."

Willow popped a piece of Orange Chicken into her mouth before setting down her fork, and giving her friend her full attention.

"I-It's sorta complicated. Are you sure you want the scoop?"

"Scoop away," she smiled.

Buffy took a deep breath and proceeded. "Alright. Well, as you know we've grown kinda closer these past few months. With the hanging out, and the feelings, and the almost dying. Things like that," she explained, color already rising to her cheeks. "It's just lately the closeness became... well, really close, you know?"

"Like you guys hugged or something?"

"Not so much. Well, yes, hugging snuck in once or twice. But more than that," she told her. "Other... parts got closer. Like lips?"

Willow's mouth dropped open. The thought that Buffy and Spike could be seeing each other in THAT way had never even crossed her mind. She was completely thrown.

"Oh goddess," she breathed, unsure of what to say. "I-I had no idea, Buffy. You guys are making with the together-ness?"

"No!" she quickly denied, eyes widening. "No, no way. We're definitely not doing that."

"Then what?" she asked, newly confused.

"That's just it, Willow. I have no idea."

Buffy sighed, feeling like a complete moron. Not to mention a little slutty.

"You guys haven't talked about it? Your lips just suddenly hang out together and then you go your separate ways?"

Okay, maybe more than a little slutty...

"Kinda," she gulped, realizing that was the situation exactly. "But, i-it's not as bad as it sounds."

"Oh." She paused. "It's not?"

Buffy groaned and put her head down on the table.

"I'm a total sleaze," she pouted, looking up when Willow laughed.

"You're not a sleaze, Buffy. I'm just playing with you. Hormones and such are natural at our age."

"Yeah?" she sniffed.

"Definitely. Once me and Xander had obscene sex on my pool table," she offered.

Buffy paled. "Wh-what?"

"Teasing!"

Both girls giggled.

"I'm serious though, Wills," Buffy continued. "It's like... one minute we're hanging out--then we're kissing. And then we're either fighting or ignoring, and finally one of us make with the big exit. It's just all so confusing."

Willow gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure he's just as confused as you are. I doubt you guys expected to get all kissy-face with each other."

"A gallon of no," she admitted. If someone had told her that she would be macking on her best friend/former enemy she would have told them they were crazy.

"See? And I wouldn't be surprised if Spike felt the same way. You guys should talk or something--get all the feelings out in the open."

"Right," Buffy nodded, glad she had confided in Willow. "You're right. We shouldn't be all avoidy with each other. We should confront this and work it out."

"Absolutely!"

The two friends smiled at each other.

"Good then," Buffy said, taking a big bite out of her egg roll and standing up. "Now that that's out of the way, let's go find some kick ass dresses."

Willow grinned in agreement, and they trotted off to a nearby store.

~~~

"Turn!" Buffy shouted, causing Willow to slam on the brakes and turn sharply to the right. "I need something from the drug store."

Her friend arched a brow.

"That time of the month," she confessed with a sigh.

They pulled into the crowded parking lot and headed inside. Willow went towards the back to check out the magazine rack, while Buffy perused the less fun isle. She always got so embarrassed buying tampons for some reason. It was like everyone's eyes were on her as she picked out the common female accessory.

Quickly snatching the small box off the shelf, she turned around, only to crash right into a hard framed body.

"Oh!" she squeaked in surprise, dropping her item to the floor. She looked up to see Spike standing before her.

"Uh, sorry," he muttered, reaching down to pick up the box. He handed it to her and Buffy turned an awkward shade of fuchsia.

"T-Thanks," she replied, embarrassed to no end. Not knowing what else to say, she began to step around him. "Um, bye."

Spike growled, the anger he had towards her immediately resurfacing.

"That's it then?" he asked, as Buffy turned around to face him.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play daft, Summers. You know what I mean."

She sighed. "Spike, I'm not having this discussion with you here."

"Why not? It's as good a place as any."

"Sorry, but standing in the feminine needs isle at a local drug store really doesn't do it for me," she rolled her eyes.

"Right. So we'll talk when it's convenient for you, I take it?"

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"Bloody right I have a problem with that. It's a bit selfish, don't you think?" he said, triggering a frown from the small blonde girl.

"Excuse me? I'm the selfish one?"

"Well, yeah," he replied.

She stared at him disbelievingly. "I'm so sorry my inexperience with this sort of stuff is such an inconvenience to you. Maybe I should go fool around with a bunch of other guys so I know how I should act."

Spike stepped towards her, clenching his jaw. "You better not."

"Jealous?" she countered, standing her ground.

"Don't have a reason to be."

Buffy just stood there, looking stung. "And that's supposed to mean what?"

He sighed. "Nothing. Forget it."

"No," she shook her head. "You don't think I could get a guy, do you?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Yes. It is. I'm nothing but a game to you. Stupid, naive Buffy and her stupid, naive ways, right?"

Spike didn't answer.

"You asshole," she laughed bitterly, tears threatening to spill.

"Think what you want, Summers. You know I didn't mean it like that," he said, fed up with her mind games. If she wanted to read into something, so be it.

"Yeah? Well, I think you did. And I also think that you need to stay away from me."

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"You heard me, Spike."

"Bleeding hell, woman! You're impossible, you know that?"

"First I'm selfish, now I'm impossible. Gee, just sweep me off my feet why don't you," she snarked.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, pet."

She swallowed hard, trying to control her emotions.

"You have a lot of nerve," she told him. "Acting like you're so perfect and I'm the bad guy in all this. None of this would be happening if you had just kept your damn lips to yourself."

"You didn't seem to mind," he reminded. "In fact, I seem to recall a bit of lip action on your part as well."

"At least my lips don't get around to the entire California population," she spat back.

"Oh, yeah? Well, there wouldn't be any takers even if you tried."

Buffy's hand came out of nowhere, smacking him hard across the face. Tears were now evident in her furious, green eyes.

"Stay away from me, Spike," she told him coldly. "I mean it."

Before he could get another word in, she stormed off, uncaring that all eyes were on her.

"I hate him!" Buffy seethed, slamming her locker door shut on Monday morning.

"You haven't talked since the fight?" Willow wondered, clutching her books to her chest.

"Are you kidding? Just the mere thought of him makes me want to throw things. Heavy things."

"Poor, Buffy. I guess my whole working out your differences idea kinda sucked, huh?" she decided.

"It's not your fault, Will. Spike and I are just too different. I mean, the friends thing worked out for a while, but--" She paused when she noticed Spike walk into school, a minor limp to his step. She swallowed hard, part of her wanting to help him, but she quickly shook her head. "But umm... what was I saying?"

"Just about how you hated Spike."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I totally hate him."

Both girls sighed in unison, and Buffy wandered off before Spike could spot her.

"Hey, listen," Willow said, trailing not too far behind.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'm having this sort of get together tonight. You know, since tomorrow is a day off? And I was wondering if you wanted to go. It'll just be me, you, Xander, and Tara..."

"I dunno, Will. I'm not so much Party Gal right now," she admitted.

"Oh, well, it won't be too party-ish. We can just hang out, eat popcorn, watch movies, ya know?"

"I suppose. So it's just the Core Four then?"

"Sure thing."

"Alright," she nodded, deciding that anything was better than crying herself to sleep. "I'll be there."

"Great! I'll see you around six," Willow smiled, then trotted off to her next class.

~~~

The dreaded computer class had cast it's shadow upon her. Buffy sat nervously in her rolling chair, fidgeting with the mouse. The bell had just rung and Spike was still MIA--although she supposed he was just delayed because of the whole injury thing.

Sure enough, Spike knocked on the door and Ms. Calender rose to open it. He stood outside, Cecily by his side, carrying his books for him. Buffy narrowed her eyes at the carpet-haired snot, quickly turning back to her computer screen.

Spike approached his seat next to Buffy, a hand over his abdomen. She ignored the fuzzy feeling she got in the pit of her stomach when he breezed past her, the smell of his cologne lighting her senses on fire. Instead she pressed her lips together and plastered an indifferent expression upon her face.

"Alright," Ms. Calender said, proceeding to teach the class. "Today we'll be working with javascript, as we discussed on Friday. So choose a partner and let me know if you have any questions."

Ugh. Partners. Buffy refused to look in Spike's direction, hoping he'd pick one of the cheerleaders in the back. But he didn't attempt to make any move at all and began to work on the assignment on his own. Buffy shrugged, deciding to do the same thing. Unfortunately, her theory pretty much worked in... well, theory, and she growled in frustration. Stupid pop-up boxes! Why wouldn't they work? Buffy had always been slow in the computer department. Books studies were more her cup of tea.

Giving up after much deliberation, she leaned back in her seat with an aggravated huff. Ms. Calender noticed her irritation and immediately approached the confused student.

"Something wrong, Buffy?" she wondered, kneeling down beside the blonde teenager.

"I can't get these little page thingies to be small and stuff," she pouted, pointing to the screen. "They keep being all full-sized."

"Spike?" Ms. Calender called to him. He turned in his seat to face his teacher. He had noticed Buffy's grunts and groans but had decided to ignore them.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Do you understand javascript?"

Nope. Not a word of it.

"Uh, yeah. A bit," he reluctantly forced out, knowing what he was about to be asked.

"Would you mind helping Buffy? She seems to be struggling."

Of course I mind! And wait, isn't that your job?

"I s'pose," he agreed, rolling his chair over to Buffy.

Ms. Calender smiled and stepped out of the room to talk with Mr. Giles, while Buffy sat, arms folded in her seat.

"You don't have to help me, you know," she said, refusing to look at him. "I'm sure I'll figure it out."

"Don't 'ave much of a choice, do I now?" he grumbled, leaning over her to move her mouse.

Buffy sucked in a breath at his nearness, her feelings for him all rushing back. It was easy to forget about the way he made her feel when she was ignoring him. But having him this close to her didn't help matters in the least.

She quickly rolled to the side to give him better access.

"No need to get all fidgety," he assured her, noticing the distance she was putting between them.

"I'm not fidgety. Just cautious."

"Don't trust yourself around me?" he questioned, glancing up at her.

Buffy blushed slightly. "Hardly. You're the one I can't trust."

He arched a brow. "Is that right? As I recall, you're the one who couldn't keep her hands to herself..."

The humiliating memories all came rushing back and Buffy had to hold back her anger.

"Don't flatter yourself, Spike."

Spike just shook his head, not wanting to get into it with her at school, and began concentrating on the task at hand.

Buffy looked over at him when he didn't reply, but quickly tore her eyes away. She could never forgive him for what he said to her at the drug store. All the bonding they did and the crap they went through was just a waste of time, because now they were right back where they started. She sighed, ignoring the pang of regret that pierced her heart, and put her head down.

"There," he finally muttered. "All fixed."

Buffy tested out the link, and sure enough, it worked.

"Thanks," she said, not-too-sincerely, and watched as he scooted back over to his own computer. She stared at him for a moment longer, as he continued to work on his own assignment, before turning back around in her chair. "Not like I needed your help or anything," she added for good measure.

This got his attention and he groaned in frustration. "Bleeding hell, Summers. Will you get off it?"

She whipped her head in his direction. "Get off what? I'm not on anything!"

"That high horse of yours!" he told her, his voice raising slightly.

"My horse is not high. I'm not even on a horse!" she countered. "What do horses have to do with this anyway?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "It's a figure of speech. And you know what I mean."

"No. No, I don't. Do explain."

"You're bloody stubborn, you are!" he told her, glancing towards the door to see if their teacher was still outside. She wasn't. She must have left somewhere with Mr. Giles...

"Selfish, impossible and stubborn. Anymore oh-so-fun Buffy adjectives you'd like to throw in the mix?"

The class was now fully engrossed in the quarrel between to two blondes, unbeknownst to them.

"Since you ask so nicely, bitch comes to mind," he added.

"Really not an adjective, but I wouldn't expect you to know that."

"Right, because we can't all be as learn-happy as Buffy Summers, now can we? Life just wouldn't be complete without those all weekend study sessions."

"At least I study!" she spat back. "At least I'm going to graduate. Look at you! Thinking you're so cool with your hair and your coat and your stupid Cecily Price. But look where all that got you. Stuck in high school for the rest of your pathetic life!"

"Like you're life is any better?" he challenged. "Stayin' up all night blubbering to your mates about how you're gonna die a virgin? Sounds charming!"

This produced a few chuckles from the peanut gallery and Buffy laughed derisively under her breath. It always came back to that...

"You know, maybe that's why your mother killed herself. So she didn't have to put up with you anymore."

Oh, Buffy. Did you really just say that? she demanded of herself.

She did. And the look on Spike's face would forever etched into her memory. The entire class went silent as they waited for a reaction.

Buffy just raised a hand to her mouth, trying to force the cruel words back. She couldn't believe she did it again. Not once had she used his mother's death as a way to hurt him, but twice. She was a heartless, cold, awful excuse for a human being and at that moment she hated herself with every fiber of her being.

"No.. Spike..." she lamely tried, reaching out to touch him. He pulled back from her as if she were fire, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"Don't come near me," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"I am SO sorry," she tried again, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Spike just stood from his seat, swallowing hard as he glanced around the room. Everyone was staring at him, but he didn't care. He had to get out of there. Not looking back, he headed out the door, in an attempt to get as far away as Buffy Summers as humanly possible.

Buffy quickly jumped up and chased after him.

"Spike!" she called out, watching as he plowed through the double doors and into the sunlight. "Spike, please wait!"

He finally stopped to catch his breath, uncaring that his stomach throbbed in pain. All he knew is he had to get away. He had to get away from her...

"Spike!" she said again, out of breath. He was leaning against the side of the building, looking up at the sky and holding his stomach.

"Get away, Summers. I can't look at you."

"Spike, please. What I said... I--"

"Get the fuck away!" he bellowed, squeezing his eyes shut.

Buffy flinched and put her head down, wondering if Spike could ever look at her again. Hell, she didn't even know if she could ever look at herself again. Not after what she said...

"I'm sorry," she told him meekly. "I know you'll never forgive me, but you have to know that I didn't mean it. Your mother loved your more than anything."

"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut your gob right now," he threatened, his voice dangerously low.

Buffy moved closer to him. "What are you going to do? Hit me?"

Spike finally looked at her, astonished she would suggest such a thing. "Are you insane? I would never hit you!"

"Why not? I deserve it."

"No, you don't," he mumbled, stepping away from the wall and heading towards his car. She followed.

"Yes, I do."

"Go back to class," he dismissed her, continuing to the parking lot.

"Spike, just stop!"

All the energy drained from her, as she called out to him. She couldn't lose him--not like this.

Spike finally turned around with a sigh of exasperation, standing about a yard in front of her.

"They were just words," she whispered, wondering if he even heard her. But if he did or didn't, he still turned around and walked away.

It was only moments later when he screeched out of the parking lot at lightening speed, and Buffy sank to her knees...

Willow jumped up off the couch when the doorbell rang.

"Buffy?" she asked, opening the door to reveal a disheveled, blonde girl. Buffy just stared at her, mascara streaks running down her face. "Oh, no. What happened?"

"I'm fine, Will. Just here for the party," she said, her voice low and raspy. She then stepped around Willow and into the house.

Crap! Willow prayed that it had nothing to do with Spike. He was going to be there in five minutes and if they were on even worse terms, she wasn't sure how this whole thing would blow over...

"Um, are you sure nothing's wrong?" she tried. "B-Because you sorta have wrong face..."

"I'm peachy. Where's Xander and Tara?"

"On their way. You're a little early."

"Sorry," Buffy replied, taking off her shoes and plopping down onto the couch.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Willow hesitantly asked.

"Maybe later. I just need a little R&R to clear my mind."

"I get that. We'll have lots of fun tonight," she smiled, butterflies swimming in her stomach. She really hoped Buffy didn't kill her...

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door. Willow rushed to get it and sighed in relief when it was just Xander and Tara.

"Heya, Wills. Tara brought the munchies, I've got the sexy movies... it's a party!" he grinned, walking into the house. "Buffster! Glad you could make it."

Buffy gave him a small smile and quickly looked away. Xander shrugged and set two paper bags down on the coffee table.

"So, is Spike a no show or what?" he wondered, immediately digging into the food.

Willow's eyes went wide. "Xander!"

Buffy's head shot up at that. "You invited Spike?" she asked, accusingly.

"Oh, well... kinda, yeah. I thought maybe you two would do well in a social setting. Maybe--"

"Work out our differences?" Her tone was cold. "Sorry, but tried that, remember? And besides, he's not coming."

"How do you know?" Tara wondered.

Buffy looked away and stared at the wall. "I just know."

The doorbell rang and everybody's heads turned towards the door. Willow gave Buffy an apologetic smile before opening it.

"I'm not stayin' long," Spike said hurriedly, taking off his duster and hanging it on the coat rack. "Just thought I'd stop by for a few and--" He was cut short when he saw her. "Oh, you've got to be joking."

Buffy stood up, unable to face him, and made a swift exit to the kitchen. Willow stood there awkwardly, fearing she had made a mistake.

"Hey, Spike," she gulped. "I-I just thought--"

"You thought wrong," he interrupted. "I'm gone."

"No!"

He stopped.

"I-I mean... no, don't go. Please stay. We're all mature, semi-adults here. We can all hang out under the same roof and still have a good time, right?"

Spike shook his head. "Listen, Red. I'm sure you meant well with this whole intervention crap, but there's no point. I'll see you tomorrow."

He grabbed his coat, getting ready to leave, when Buffy entered the room.

"No," she said. "I'll go."

"You guys!" Willow griped, hands on her hips. "Don't be like this. You two are friends!"

"No, we're not," Spike quickly corrected.

"Yes, you are!" she shot back. "You always were and always will be. Stupid fights aren't going to change that."

"Willow," Buffy tried. "You don't know what happened today. This really isn't a good idea..."

"Well, I think it is," she said, her resolve face firmly in intact. "Now both of you sit down, eat popcorn, and enjoy yourselves, damnit!"

Everyone stared at her, mouths agape. Spike was impressed with the wallflower's sudden bout of authority and placed his coat back on the hanger. Willow smiled, pleased.

"Wait, you're staying?" Buffy asked him, incredulously.

"Looks like."

"Well, then I'm leaving. I can't be here," she replied flustered, and headed towards the door.

Willow grabbed the girl by the shoulders and pushed her back towards the couch.

"Willow! What are you doing?"

"What's it look like, dummy? I'm keeping you here."

"You're holding me hostage?" Buffy questioned, unbelievingly.

She smiled. "Guess so."

Buffy just raised an eyebrow at the red head and stomped off back into the kitchen. Willow sighed and followed.

"Buffy, please don't be like this. I was only trying to help..."

She was leaning over the counter, new tears forming in her eyes. "I know," she admitted.

"Then why the hard feelings? Can't you guys get along just for one night? Especially before Prom. It's gonna be kinda weird if you're still pretending to hate each other."

Buffy turned around at that. "Pretending? Willow, you have no idea what happened today."

"Then... maybe you can tell me?"

She shook her head. "It was too awful. I was too awful."

"It can't be worse than what Spike said to you at the drug store," she reasoned, more that a little curious.

Buffy sniffed and looked up, her eyes wide and glossy. "It makes what he said look like a compliment," she confessed. "I said... I said that he was the reason his mother killed herself."

Willow had a sudden urge to smack her friend upside the head.

"You... you really said that?" she wondered in horror. "Or maybe you're just kidding?"

"I wish I was."

"Oh. Well... oh."

"I know," she said, ashamed of herself. "I just can't believe those words actually came out of my mouth."

"Yeah, me either," she had to agree.

"Do you think I'm a total bitch now?"

Willow had to think about it for a minute. "No, Buffy. It's not my place to judge you. And I'm sure Spike can find it in his heart to forgive and forget..."

Her head snapped up. "He better not," she said seriously.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he better not forgive me. I don't deserve to be forgiven."

"Oh, Buffy. Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"

"Of course not! I think I'm being a little right. What I said? I-It's unforgivable."

"Maybe not to Spike," she offered.

"Especially to Spike!"

Willow sighed. "If you say so. But let's just try to make this an un-fighty night, okay? I wanna have a good time and stuff."

Buffy nodded in reluctantce. "Yeah, I guess."

"Great! I'll start on the popcorn."

~~~

The room was dark, the only light coming from the images that danced across the television screen. Willow and Xander were sitting on the floor together, Tara was curled up in an armchair, and Buffy and Spike were seated on opposite ends of the couch.

"Seven days..." a little girl whispered eerily over the phone, making Buffy's skin crawl. She hated this movie. It terrified her.

"Don't you just love this movie?" Xander asked, grinning from ear to ear. "And the blonde is pretty hot."

Everyone rolled their eyes, and Buffy sunk further into the cushions. As the film progressed and even more scary images were burned into her mind, she pressed Pause and turned on a light.

"Potty break for Buffy," she announced and headed off to the nearest bathroom.

When she shut the door, she leaned against it, running her small hands over her face. It was torture being so close to Spike and not being able to touch him, or talk to him... or hell, even look at him. The guilt was overwhelming. With a sad sigh, she turned on the faucet and splashed some cool water over her face with her hands. He hadn't said a word to her the whole night, and it was making her crazy. Of course she wasn't expecting as much, but it still hurt. But it hurt even more that nothing would ever be the same between them. The sense of security and affection they had found with each other was gone forever.

Holding back her tears, she turned off the water and patted her face dry with a towel. Refusing to look at herself in the mirror, she turned around and opened the bathroom door.

"We need to talk."

Buffy jumped back, startled, as Spike pushed his way into the bathroom with her.

"Spike?" she asked, her voice small.

He shut the door behind him and swallowed before looking at her.

"Spike, maybe--"

"Shut up, Summers," he said, and Buffy snapped her mouth close. "By 'we' I meant me. I need to talk."

She nodded numbly, as Spike took a deep breath. He let it out and whipped around, running his hands roughly through his hair.

"You make me crazy!" he blurted, fisting his fingers through the small blonde locks. Buffy frowned, but said nothing. "You know that, right? I look at you don't know whether to kiss you or kill you! Not that I would... kill you, of course--but that's beside the bleeding point! The point is that you make me crazy."

"Yeah, that part sorta registered already."

He turned around to face her. "See? There you go, spoutin' off that mouth of yours!"

She pressed her lips together and looked down at the tile. "Sorry."

"It's alright," he said, then corrected himself. "No, it's not alright!"

Buffy raised a brow.

"You're unbearable. And stubborn as all hell. And I honestly don't know how I put up with you for all those years."

"My charming personality and adorable wit?" she offered.

"Pfft. Hardly! You're 'bout as charming as a table lamp!"

Her bottom lip jutted out.

"A nice table lamp, mind you. But you know what I mean! And don't give me that bloody lip," he scolded, feeling his resolve fading. "Anyway, the point is that you make me crazy! One minute you're hot and the next you're cold. One minute we're snoggin' and the next we're breakin' each other's hearts."

"Spike, I--"

"No," he cut her off. "I know what you're gonna say and I don't want to hear it. What you said today was bloody awful and we both know it. But what I said to you yesterday at the drug store was just as bad."

"How can you--"

"Will you let me finish?"

She sighed and nodded her head.

"You said somethin' to me earlier that got me thinking. They're just words," he explained. "People get angry and they say terrible things to one another. But it doesn't change anything."

"It changes everything," she interrupted.

"No, it doesn't. Because the way I feel about you now is the same way I felt when that knife was bein' stuck in my gut."

Buffy held back her tears in rememberance. How could he still care about her after what she said to him? How could he even look at her the same way?

"I don't understand," she told him, choking on her own voice. "I don't understand how you can just forgive me like that. After all..." Her words trailed off. "After all that's happened."

"It doesn't matter," he confessed, taking a step towards her. "It doesn't change the way I feel about you."

She looked up then, uncertainty in her eyes. "H-How do you feel exactly?"

He shook his head, unprepared to answer that question. "I don't know. All I know is that I don't want to fight you. I don't want to walk eggshells every time we're together. I just..."

"Yeah?"

He stared at her, her big, green eyes filled with unshed tears and her hands shaking nervously at her sides. He decided that he wanted nothing more than to feel her in his arms.

"I just want to hold you," he finally said, stepping forward to close the gap between them. Luckily, he didn't have to step far because Buffy was immediately on him, her arms wrapping around his neck and her faced burying against his chest. He could feel the warm tears seep through his shirt, but he ignored them. Instead he gave a content sigh, and rested his chin atop her mound of beautiful, blonde hair.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered against him, clinging to him with all her might. She never wanted to let go.

"Shh," he smiled into her hair. "It's alright, pet."

She shook her head, but said nothing. Words only ruined things. But feeling him in her arms, so warm and so close, triggered a single word to pop into her mind...

Did she... ?

"Are you guys okay in there?"

They broke apart, both startled by the intrusion.

"Yeah, Will. Fine," Buffy muttered, wiping the wetness off her face.

"Just making sure!" the red head responded, and headed back into the living room.

"Wanna head back, love?" Spike asked, gesturing towards the door. "Don't want to worry your mates too much."

She just smiled and nodded her head. She would have to leave her thoughts for another day...

"Do we have to play this game?" Buffy pouted. "Me and dares don't tend to mix very well."

Spike side-glanced her a wicked grin and Buffy blushed.

"Of course we have to play! It's of the fun. And fun is us," Willow reasoned. "Besides, you're welcome to only pick truth."

"Fine," she grumbled, sliding off the couch to sit in the circle with her friends. "Who goes first?"

Xander raised his hand. "Buffy, I dare you strip."

"Xander!" Willow admonished. "You're not playing by the rules. First you have to ask her Truth or Dare."

He sighed. "Fine. Buffy, truth or dare?"

"Truth," she shrugged, leaning back on her hands.

"Is it true you're willing to strip for us right now?"

"Xander!"

"What?! I'm on board with rules. Besides, Spike's with me! Right, Spike?" he smiled, waggling his eyebrows.

Spike just rolled his eyes.

"I'm not stripping, Xander," Buffy said, seriously. "Ask me something else."

"Alright, alright." He thought about it for a moment before sighing in defeat. "You know, I'm really trying to think here..."

Everyone groaned and stood up.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Tara decided. "A-Any other game suggestions?"

"Ooh! We could play Monopoly," Buffy perked up. Off everyone's blank stares she frowned. "Or not."

"I got an idea," Spike suddenly spoke, standing with the others. All four heads turned to look at him. "Your mum and dad are out of town, right Red?"

Willow nodded, a brow arched in curiosity. Spike just grinned and made his way towards the kitchen.

~~~

"You're going to get me dead," Willow complained, her hands shaking nervously as she poured the amber colored liquid into a shot glass. "Really dead."

"Quit frettin'. It's for a good cause and all that rot."

"Getting drunk? Not so much a good cause."

"Yeah, Spike. I'm not so sure this is the greatest idea," Buffy agreed, crinkling her nose.

"Have any of you ninnies even tasted alcohol before?" he sighed, leaning against the couch next to Buffy. "'Sides, there's nothin' else to do. Might as well get pissed."

"What does drinking have to do with getting mad?" Buffy wondered.

"Bloody hell. Someone pass the tequilla."

Willow gulped in apprehension and handed him the bottle. He pulled out the cork with his teeth and took a big swig. Everyone watched in amazement.

"Eww," Buffy cringed, watching as he drank down the bitter fluid. "Hey, isn't tequilla the kind with the worms?"

Spike pulled the bottle away from his lips and handed it to the disgusted blonde. "Drink up, love."

"No way. Count me out," she said, holding up her hands. Only she was shocked when Willow reached out and snatched the bottle from his grasp. She shrugged off everyone's stunned looks and tipped back her head.

"Look at her go," Xander noted, in awe. "What a trooper."

Willow tossed it to Xander when she finished, a cooky grin on her face. "See what I did there?" she giggled. She then picked up the glass of whiskey she had poured herself and polished it off.

"Will, maybe you should slow down," Buffy suggested, slightly jealous that her friend was way more daring than her.

"C'mon, Buffy. It's not so bad!" she told her, already beginning to feel light-headed. The only time she ever drank was at her cousin's birthday party. And that was only a sip of wine. And she was five...

Buffy then watched as both Xander and Tara took a big guzzle from the half-empty bottle. She had to suppress a giggle at the look on Xander's face.

"God, almighty!" he bellowed, features contorting. "That stuff is awful!"

Spike chuckled, as he caught the bottle Tara threw to him. "You sure, Summers? It's goin' fast."

She gulped lightly, deciding what to do. It's not like she never experienced with alcohol before. And although it led to complete and utter attempted rape-like badness, she was with people she trusted now. She was with friends...

"What the hell," she shrugged, and quickly took a big swallow. It tasted nothing like the bicardi she had tried at Angel's party. Xander wasn't lying when he said it was awful... "Ack!" she spit and sputtered. "Ick! Uck!"

"Don't fancy it, pet?"

"Aghhhrrggh!"

Willow giggled again. "Hee, hee!"

"Count me way, way out," she reinstated. "How can you drink that crap? It's sickening!"

Spike sighed. "Here. Try this," he proposed, and handed her the bottle of whiskey.

"Like I'm sure this is terrifically better," she rolled her eyes, but chugged it down nonetheless. She decided it wasn't as bad as the tequilla--it was stronger, but didn't have that stomach-lurching feel to it.

"You like?" he asked.

"Big no to like," she responded, bringing it back to her mouth. She then wiped a few stray droplets off her chin with the back of her hand. "Very big no."

One Hour Later

"I can't believe Xander passed out!" Willow laughed, pointing at the slouched over brunette. "He-he barely had two sips!"

Buffy joined in the laugh-fest. "A-And Tara vomitted all over your carpet!" she giggled with a snort.

"Snot funny! It's... it's... bad! Very bad!" She tried to be serious, but the uncontrollable laughter took over and she fell over onto her side, hiccupping all the way.

"Snot!" Buffy chortled. "You said snot!" She as well tipped over and her head landed in Spike's lap. This only made her laugh harder. "Oops!"

"Bloody hell," Spike groaned, slowly opening his eyes. He had only closed them for a second...

"I-I can't get up," Buffy pouted, trying to lift herself off of Spike's lower half. "I'm stucked!"

He looked down, only two find two Buffys in his lap. Wait, two? Sodding tequilla...

"Here, love, lemme help you..." he said, picking her up by the arms and pulling her fully to him. Buffy moved into a sitting position, so she was rested between his legs, her back leaning against his torso.

"Thanks, Spikey," she giggled. "Will, I'm not stucked anymore!"

Nothing.

"Wiii-lllooowww," she sing-songed, only to be greeted with loud snores. Buffy gasped. "Willow passed out! Sh-she... she passed out and stuff!" Then she started laughing again.

Spike rested his head against the back of the couch, trying to ignore the warm body wriggling between his legs. He unconsciously wrapped his arms around her waist, her small form vibrating with laughter.

"I can't believe Willow passed out! What a wuss!" she snorted, and sighed when her giggles finally began to subside. "Ouchy. Headache."

"You alright?" he asked, lifting his head. Her sweet-smelling hair tickled at his nose.

It was then that Buffy suddenly noticed how close they were. His firm arms were holding her tightly against him, and she shivered when she felt his warm breath in her ear.

"Mmm," was all she said, and leaned back into him even more. She began chewing on her bottom lip when she felt him run his hands up and down her bare arms, encouraging delicious shivers to travel through her. She instinctively began rubbing her body against him, seeking some sort of friction.

Spike sucked in a breath at her maneuvers, feeling himself grow hard. His alcohol-induced mind faintly registered the fact that this was Buffy Summers writhing her hot, little body between his legs, but at that moment he didn't seem to care.

"Buffy," he groaned, running his hands down her arms, her breasts, her stomach, her...

"Oh!" Buffy squeaked, when she felt his hand come in contact with her denim-clad center. She arched off the floor, pressing herself even harder against his erection.

Spike swallowed hard and began moving his fingers against the moistened material. Buffy's breathing became erratic and she clutched at his pant legs for support. Without thinking, he reached down and unbuttoned her jeans, a skilled hand immediately slipping inside.

"Oh god!" she practically screamed, suddenly feeling his flesh against her own. "D-Don't stop..."

Jesus Christ, this girl was going to kill him. Maybe literally if she remembered in the morning...

Trying to control his own raging hormones, he pulled her closer to him, burying his fingers deep inside of her heat. He explored her, searching for her pleasure point, all the while nibbling at her ear lobe. Buffy's mewls of passion rang in his ears as he rubbed her, his thumb finding and massaging her clit.

"Omigod, omigod, omigod..." she panted, and suddenly bucked against him, her hands grasping at his legs. Her juices flowed freely onto his fingers and she lay against him, breathing heavily.

"You alright?" he whispered into her ear, buttoning her pants back up. She nodded numbly, still seeing stars behind her eyes. Then in a flash she was on him, her mouth seeking his own. She kissed him anxiously, her hands tugging at his t-shirt.

"I want you," she breathed into his mouth, her fingers exploring the smooth planes of his chest.

Spike pulled his shirt back down, and took her hands in his. "You're drunk," he simply told her.

"I don't care."

"I do. If I go any further with you, I'm as good as dead come sunrise."

She pouted, that infamous bottom lip making itself known. Spike couldn't help himself. With a groan, he leaned in a took it between his teeth, suckling it into his mouth. Buffy moaned, her hands sifting through his blonde curls, as she deepened the kiss. Their tongues met in a fiery dance and Spike didn't know if he could hold on for much longer. Feeling her willing body squirm restlessly against his own... her hot tongue in his mouth... caressing him, tasting him...

Suddenly, Tara appeared in the living room, shocked to see Buffy in Spike's lap playing a fierce game of tonsil hockey with him. She blushed profusely, tip-toeing around the couch with a hope that they didn't spot her. She had come down from the bathroom after spending some quality time with Willow's toilet. Her and liquor just did not mix...

"Ow!" she yelped, stubbing her toe on a wooden table. Buffy and Spike immediately broke apart, their eyes darting in her direction. She stood there, looking like a deer in headlights. "U-Umm... I-I was just... ummm..." How embarrassing. "Sorry. You guys, um, go back to the kissing... I was just... ummm... yeah. Sorry."

They shrugged and did just that.

Tara sighed to herself and pulled a red and blue afghan off of a nearby chair. She then made a less noisy retreat around the table and situated herself on the floor for the evening between Xander and Willow. Buffy and Spike's moans and groans echoed in her ears as she tried to get comfortable, but she couldn't help but let a small smile slip.

At least they're getting along, she thought amusedly to herself, before pulling the blanket over her and closing her eyes.