Stealing Time

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters here. I borrow them so I can be happy when Joss breaks my heart. Please don't sue. I have nothing of value anyway.

Author's note: I started writing this story after the episode Tabula Rasa. Nothing that happened in episodes after that is included or implied in this story. Mostly, I've made up my own little Buffyverse to fit what I'd like to see happen, even though it never will. J

Summary: Buffy finally gives in to her passion with Spike and finds herself horrified and in a major state of confusion. As she tries to sort her out her life, a mysterious presence threatens her existence.

Rating: R/NC-17

Stealing Time

Buffy lay motionless staring at the ceiling. She felt the weight of Spike's arm across her stomach and she glanced over at him. He was sound asleep. And why wouldn't he be after what they had just done? She shifted her gaze back up to the ceiling again and shook her head.

She had no idea what she was doing here. This wasn't what she intended when she showed up at his place tonight. She had gone to tell him that she didn't want to see him anymore. Things were just getting too weird and complicated. She had made the huge mistake of kissing him once. That was forgivable. But apparently not forgettable. After that one time, it was as if she just couldn't contain herself anymore.

Originally, she had hoped that if she just went ahead and kissed him, that it would somehow get him out of her system. She hadn't intended for it to feel as right or exciting as it had. So one mistake had turned into two. And then three and so on. And tonight, she had completely surrendered herself.

It was like a sickness, she thought. She had come here to put an end to this madness once and for all. But instead, she had kissed him again. Before she even knew what she was doing, their clothes were off. And then there was no turning back. And she hadn't wanted to turn back. Not at the time. Now she felt ashamed and horrified. But most of all, she felt scared. Not of him, but of herself.

She sighed and attempted to gently pick his arm up off her chest. She wiggled her way out of his bed, and searched for her clothes in the darkened room. She found most of them, but couldn't find her bra. She cursed under her breath, and decided it was a lost cause. She didn't want to bump into anything and make noise. She just wanted to slip out and never come back here again. She told herself that if she avoided him, it be almost like tonight never happened.

She grabbed her shoes and tucked them under her arm. She made her way up the ladder and disappeared out of Spike's crypt.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next night, Spike walked into the Magic Box looking for Buffy. He figured she'd probably be there. He had been annoyed when he woke up alone this morning. Not surprised, of course, but annoyed none the less. He saw Xander and Anya standing behind the counter.

"Oh look. Spike's here." Xander said sarcastically.

"Yeah. Is Buffy here?" He asked, ignoring the sarcasm.

"Why?"

"Because I wanna ask her to the prom. Think she'll go with me?" Spike asked dryly.

"I highly doubt it. But thanks for stopping by. We're closed now." Xander said motioning towards the door.

"Look, is she here or not? I need to talk to her." Spike said getting fed up.

"She's in the training room." Anya finally piped up, tired of listening to their bickering.

"Thanks Love." Spike smiled.

He walked towards the back of the shop.

In the training room, Buffy was desperately trying to forget about the night before. The best way for her to do that, was to beat the punching bag until it threatened to snap from the ceiling.

Everything in her life was so complicated. And now, she had just made things even worse by getting naked with Spike. In fact the words `naked' and `Spike' shouldn't even be in the same sentence, as far as she was concerned. But it had happened. And worse yet, she had wanted it to happen. It had been her idea. She had been the one to start ripping clothes off.

She squeezed her eyes shut to try and block out the memories. That only succeeded in bringing up even more vivid images in her mind. Kisses and caresses. Spike naked…Her eyes sprang open again. And when they did, she saw a fully clothed Spike standing in the doorway. He was watching her assault on the punching bag with amusement. She stared at him for a moment then looked away.

"What are you doing here?" She asked with a sigh.

"I came to see you."

"Why?"

He looked at her strangely and shook his head.

"Why do you think?" He asked.

She only shrugged and looked away from him.

"Don't you think we should talk about this?" He asked quietly.

She shook her head.

"No. I'm thinking we shouldn't." She said, as she went over and took a drink of her water.

He groaned and shook his head.

"Come on. You can't just pretend it didn't happen."

"Yes, I can." She said staring intently at her feet. She was trying to wish him away, but it wasn't working.

He walked over to her and forced himself into her line of sight. She looked up at him and glared.

"Just go away. Why do always want to talk about stuff? You're like a girl."

He threw his hands up in the air and shook his head.

"Buffy, this is a big deal. We made love!" He said loudly.

Neither of them noticed that Xander and Anya were standing in the doorway listening to them. Their presence was announced by Xander's loud gasp of shock. Buffy and Spike turned sharply and saw the witnesses standing in mute surprise.

"Oh great." She muttered under her breath. She so did not need this right now.

"What?" Xander finally managed, near hyperventilation.

Buffy groaned and shook her head, choosing to ignore Xander for the time being. She looked at Spike.

"Thanks for making that announcement. And by the way, we did not `make love'." She protested.

"Oh, thank God." Xander said with a sigh of relief.

"That was just sex." Buffy finished.

"And then it gets worse." Xander said shaking his head.

"Well, you can call it whatever you want to. Making love, sex, shagging… Doesn't matter, cause we still did it." Spike said crossing his arms and ignoring Xander.

Buffy rolled her eyes and looked away from him. Xander and Anya were still standing at the door, watching the scene play before them. Xander finally spoke up again.

"Oh my god…This isn't true, right? I mean, you and Spike and the…and…well, I can't even say the words." Xander cringed.

Buffy looked over at Xander sheepishly. She never meant for him to find out like this. Preferably not at all. Now she wasn't sure what to say.

"Yes, it's true. But it was just a one time mistake." She explained.

"Actually, it was four times." Spike chimed in.

"Yeah, but it was all in the same night, so that counts as one mistake." Buffy rationalized.

"Four times in one night? Impressive." Anya smiled at Spike. He smiled back.

Xander shifted uncomfortably and looked at Anya.

"Four times. Big deal. I could go four times." He scoffed under his breath.

"Well, then why don't you?" Anya asked.

"Because…" Xander began to squirm. He shook his head. "Look, we're not talking about me here. We're talking about them. Buffy, what the hell?" He asked completely baffled.

"Look Xander, it's over. It isn't gonna happen again. I swear. In fact Spike was just leaving." Buffy said glaring at Spike.

"No I wasn't." Spike shook his head.

"Yes, you were. You wanted to talk, we talked." She said exasperated with the situation.

"You call that talking?"

"Yes."

"It looked a lot like avoiding to me." He said pointedly.

She looked at him and then over at Xander and Anya. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to say something. She didn't know what to say. A bad situation has just gotten worse. Now there were witnesses. She couldn't just brush this under the rug like she planned. Finally she just threw her hands up.

"Fine. Then I guess I'm the one who's leaving." She grabbed her things and pushed past Xander and Anya and headed out the door.

Xander turned to Spike.

"What did you do to her?" He asked accusingly.

"Me? I didn't do anything." Spike said defensively.

"Obviously you did." Xander folded his arms angrily.

"Four times." Anya smiled.

"Yes, we got that part, An." Xander said through clenched teeth.

Spike groaned and shook his head.

"Look, it's none of your business. This is between me and Buffy."

"Well, it looks like there's nothing between you and Buffy. So I suggest you forget it ever happened. Apparently she did." Xander said irritated.

Spike glared at him and walked out the door. It wasn't worth his time to try and talk to this moron, he thought. He was so angry with the whole situation. He didn't need Harris butting in with his pointless two cents.

Xander turned to his fiancée and shook his head.

"What the hell just happened here? Did I fall asleep? Was that a nightmare? Please tell me that was a nightmare." He said to her.

Anya just looked at him sympathetically.

"Come on honey. Let's finish closing up the shop and we can go home. Cause you know, four times? That was impressive."

He smiled at her slightly, then shook his head.

"No. Ick. I mean, now all I can think about is the two of them with the nakedness and the four times. Sex is now ruined for me forever." He protested.

She raised her eyebrow.

"It better not be. I have needs."

"I know. I'm just saying, the grotesque imagery in my head…It might be a little hard to concentrate." He explained.

"Well, let's go home and see if I can put some non-grotesque images in your head." She said suggestively.

He sighed and smiled. They headed out to close up the shop. Some things were best left forgotten. This was definitely one of those things.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Buffy walked slowly towards her house. Her evening had started out crappy and had just gotten worse. Now Xander and Anya knew about her little indiscretion. Somehow, that made it even more real.

She was lost in thought and wasn't looking where she was walking. She bumped right into Spike who was standing in the middle of the sidewalk watching her. She gasped out in surprise, startled at their contact.

"Where did you come from? Are you following me?" She asked irritated.

"No. I was just out walking and you happened to be here." He gave his routine speech without enthusiasm.

"Right. It's funny how that always seems to happen." She said sarcastically.

"Look, you don't want to talk? Fine. But, I thought you might need this." He said holding out her missing bra and dangling it in front of her.

She yanked it out of his hand and quickly stuffed it into her jacket pocket. She glared at him.

"You don't have to wave it around like a triumphant flag. God Spike, you are so disgusting." She said irritated.

He just smirked at her.

"You didn't think I was disgusting last night." He knew he was looking to get beat up, taunting her like this. But she was driving him crazy.

"Yes I did." She said crossing her arms defiantly.

"Oh really? So then what was with all the `Oh Spike, yes Spike' moaning you were doing? Is that how you act when you're disgusted?" He raised his eyebrow.

She glared at him and clenched her teeth.

"Shut up."

"Why? It's true. It's a good thing all my neighbors are corpses, considering all that noise you were making." He smirked.

"Ugh! It wasn't that good. Did it ever occur to you that I was faking it?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Right. Cause you'd fake it so you wouldn't hurt my feelings, is that it?" He asked, rolling his eyes. "Please. I know when a woman is enjoying herself. And last night? Well, let's just say you were not complaining."

She had nothing to say to that. She could deny it, but it was a lie. It was good. Really good. So good, that she couldn't think about anything else but doing it again. Those thoughts were making her crazy. She threw her hands up in frustration.

"Just go…be elsewhere. I'm not discussing this. Yes, it happened. And no, it won't happen again. Deal with it." She said angrily as she turned around to leave.

His minor amusement turned into anger. He was so tired of her head games. He glared at her.

"You're the one who needs to deal with it."

"Why? Because you say so? Leave me alone. Get. Over. It!" She shouted at him.

Then she turned again and began to walk off quickly.

"I won't be ignored, Buffy." He shouted after her.

She stopped in her tracks and turned around.

"Don't go all `Fatal Attraction' on me. I swear to God if I come home and my pet rabbit is boiling away on the stove-"

"You don't even have a pet rabbit!" He shouted exasperated.

"Well, if I did… Besides, the point is, it's over. So don't bother me, and don't expect it to happen again, cause it won't." She marched off and refused to look back again.

"Fine! I won't bother you. But you know you'll be back. You always come back!" He shouted after her.

She tried to block his voice out of her head. She did always come back. She knew it. He knew it. But she just couldn't deal with that right now. She couldn't deal with any of this. And she doubted that she ever could.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A couple of nights later, Buffy was out on a patrol. The last few days had been a mass of confusion. Xander had tried to grill her further, and she refused to talk about it. It was just so awkward. She knew she couldn't explain it to him, when she didn't even understand it herself. Finally, he had just relented and backed off. He was still walking on eggshells around her. He didn't want to upset her and push her away even further.

And now she was firmly back in denial land. People make mistakes, she told herself. She was no different. She was confused and depressed. It was only natural to do certain things to make ones self feel better. And for her, sex with a former enemy apparently sounded like a good idea at the time. Though in hindsight, now that it was over, it hadn't brought her much joy. More like excruciating torment. And not because it was so awful, but because it had been so good.

It had felt so right that she wanted it to happen again. But she knew it was insane and wrong, thus causing her much pain. If it had been terrible, then maybe she could forget about it. But now, it was as if she could think of nothing else. It was ridiculous.

Just as she was deciding to head home, she felt a cold chill come over her. She stopped in her tracks and looked around. There wasn't a breeze and the evening air was actually fairly mild considering that it was nearly winter time. She wasn't even wearing a jacket tonight. She sighed and tried to shake off the strange feeling. She started walking again.

As she walked, she felt the chill overcome her again. She felt something brush over her shoulder. She turned around and saw no one there. Her heart began to beat a little faster. Something was strange. There was a definite bad vibration in the air. She quickened her pace and hugged her arms to her chest tightly, to warm herself. Suddenly, she felt a burning pain on the back of her shoulder. She grabbed it and whirled around. She saw a faint black mist hanging in the air. A gust of wind blew over her. In the wind she heard what sounded like a whisper.

"You can't escape…" She heard faintly.

She watched as the wind swirled the black mist in front of her. Then as suddenly as it appeared, it disappeared. She clutched her shoulder and took off running. She wanted to get away from whatever it was that she just witnessed.

Once she stopped running, she found herself in a familiar cemetery. Spike's cemetery. She silently cursed her feet for bringing her here yet again. She stopped in her tracks and began to turn around. She shouldn't be here. She swore she wouldn't come here again. She didn't want to come here, but it was almost like she couldn't control herself.

That thing in the cemetery had really freaked her out. She felt like she needed someone safe right now. It was laughable that Spike made her feel safe, but he did. This wasn't the first time she'd ran to him when she needed someone. And despite her protest to the contrary, she knew it wouldn't be the last either. Finally, she sighed and headed over to his crypt.

She pushed the door open softly, and couldn't help but hope he might not be there. It would be easier that way. Her silent wish fell on deaf ears. He was sitting there watching the television. He turned and groaned when he saw who was calling. She was so predictable, it was almost amusing. Almost.

"Well, well. Here you are. Again. Look's like it's not me doing the `Fatal Attraction' bit." He said giving her an exasperated look.

"Shut up."

"I'm sorry, it's just so entertaining, really. You lasted what? Four days?" He laughed.

"Quit being so smug. It's not like you're irresistible or anything." She said rolling her eyes. She knew this was a bad idea. He would never let her live this down.

"Well, I must be. At least to you."

"You're not. Look, it's just-."

"It's just what? You need some help? Need a shoulder to cry on? Or maybe you just need another good shag?" He smirked.

She gave him a disgusted look.

"You know what? I don't know why I'm here. It was obviously a bad idea. Just forget it." She said turning around and heading for the door.

He watched her turn around and saw a large spot of blood seeping through the back of her shirt. He couldn't help but be curious and concerned. He wished he could stop giving a damn, but he couldn't. He stood up from his chair and called after her.

"Buffy, wait. What happened?" He asked sincerely.

She turned to face him again with her hands on her hips.

"Nothing."

"You're bleeding." He said as he walked over towards her.

She touched her hand to the back of her shoulder and came up with blood stained fingers.

"Damn it. This is a new shirt." She said shaking her head.

He walked up behind her to have a better look.

"Get into a little scuffle?" He asked.

"Sort of. That's kinda why I came here. Although, I'm thinking now that coming here was a really bad decision. Kind of like all the decisions I make regarding you." She said with a sigh.

He ignored her jab and shook his head.

"You seem a little shaken." He observed.

"I am a little. I think there's something strange out there."

"This is Sunnydale, Love. There's always something strange out there."

"I know. But this was different. It wasn't a vampire or anything." She said with a worried look.

He absorbed her worry and sighed.

"Well, lets have a look at that shoulder then you can tell me about this stranger than normal thing." He said seriously.

"You think I'm gonna take my shirt off again for you? Please. It's just a scratch. I'm fine." She said rolling her eyes.

"I don't know why you're suddenly shy. It's not like I haven't seen it before. In fact I've seen it quite a lot. Touched it too." He said with a smirk.

She groaned and shook her head.

"You're a pig."

"Do you want me to look at it or not?" He sighed.

"Fine." She relented.

He smiled satisfactorily and lifted the back of her shirt up. He uncovered her shoulder and noticed the source of the bleeding. It was a rather large `X' carved deeply into her shoulder blade.

"So? What's it look like? A scratch?" She asked, feeling highly uncomfortable with his hands on her bare skin.

He frowned.

"It's a carving of some sort."

"A carving?"

"It's an `X'. Like `X' marks the spot. Do you have buried treasure hidden somewhere?" He asked with a small smirk.

"Wouldn't you like to know." She smiled in spite of herself.

"I already know." He purred suggestively.

Suddenly she grew highly uncomfortable again. She wasn't supposed to be flirting with him. She was supposed to be trying to hate him again. She turned around sharply, and he let her shirt fall down over her back.

"Let's get back on topic, okay?" She said flustered.

"Alright. So what happened? Who did this?" He asked.

"It wasn't a `who'. It was a `what'. And I have no idea. It was like a cold chill and then there was this black mist thingy. My shoulder hurt, but I just got the hell out of there." She explained.

"A black mist? Did it have a knife?" He asked.

"No. It didn't have hands. Or a body or anything. But I heard a voice. It was like a whisper. It said I couldn't escape, whatever that means. It sort of freaked me out a little. I mean, demons? Yeah, got that covered. But I don't know what this was. And apparently it didn't like me." She said seriously.

He looked at her intently. He was just as clueless as she was.

"Well, we'll figure it out." He said finally.

"Yeah, cause I have so much to go on. Man, I really need Giles. He'd know what to do." She said sadly, as she moved away from the door and slumped down in a chair.

"We can figure out what to do. It's probably nothing. At least nothing we can't handle." He told her confidently.

"What's all this `we' stuff anyway? I thought you were mad at me." She said looking away from him.

"You were the one who was mad at me." He said pointedly.

"I wasn't mad. I was just…irritated." She said sheepishly.

He laughed a little and shook his head.

"Well, I'm used to that. You're always irritated with me. Doesn't mean I'm gonna let some black misty bastard carve interesting designs on your body." He said sincerely.

She looked up at him and couldn't help but smile. He was the last person who should want to help her now. In fact, he was always the last person who should want to help her, but he never failed to be there. She hated how warm her heart grew when she thought about him. She needed to leave before she did anything stupid. Again.

She stood up.

"I better go." She said quickly.

"Sure it's safe? What if that thing is still out there?" He asked concerned and not eager for her to go.

"Guess I'll just take my chances. Since Willow's gone, Dawn's home alone now." She said quietly.

Spike knew that Buffy and Willow had fought earlier, which resulted in Willow moving out of the house. Buffy hadn't even wanted to talk about it.

"Have you heard from the witch lately?" He asked curiously.

"No. She's not speaking to me. But that's fine. I mean, I don't care." She said flippantly, trying to disguise the pain their quarrel had actually caused.

"Right."

"Look, it's late. And I really do need to go. Responsibilities, you know?" She sighed.

He walked over to her.

"Want me to walk you home?"

"No." She said firmly.

"Fine." He said exasperated with her once again.

She softened her tone.

"I mean, you can if you want. You don't have to."

He smiled.

"Let me get my coat."

They walked out and headed towards her house. It was awkward for her. She felt like she wanted to say something to him, but she just didn't know what. They walked in silence until she finally decided to speak.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't believe I'm going to say this but… I'm sorry. I know I freaked out on you, and said some things..." She said softly, as she stared at her feet.

"You wouldn't be you if you weren't locked in a constant state of denial." He sighed.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not in denial."

"Denying that you're in denial? That's funny." He laughed. "Face it, you are the queen of denial."

"I am not! What happened with us, It was a mistake. A huge one. But…I'm sorry if I hurt you." She said with an uncomfortable sigh.

"No you're not." He said plainly.

"What?" She asked angrily.

"You're not sorry. You wanted to hurt me. You wanted to make me furious with you. You hoped that maybe if you made me angry enough, I'd stop wanting to be with you. That I'd just give up." He told her heatedly.

"Did it work?" She snapped at him.

"No. I can't give up."

They were in front of her house now, and she turned to look at him.

"Why can't you give up?" She asked with irritation.

He looked at her and sighed. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He pulled back and shrugged.

"Some things are worth waiting for. And fighting for."

Then he turned around and walked off. She stood in front of her house and watched him disappear. Why did he always have to do that? Why did he always have to be right about everything? She felt like screaming every time she was with him. He saw right through her like she was transparent. And maybe she was. At least to him. She sighed and shook her head as she headed into her house.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day Buffy walked into the Magic Box to see Anya. She was feeling desperate to talk to someone, preferably a female someone, and Anya was the only one she knew right now. Times like this, she really missed Willow.

Anya was busy with a customer, so Buffy sat down and waited. Once they had left, Anya smiled and came over to Buffy.

"Is something wrong? You look very morose." Anya asked.

"No. Things are fine." She lied.

"Oh, well that's good." Anya said cheerfully.

Buffy sighed.

"Actually, there is something. Well, a whole lotta something's. Could we, you know, talk?" Buffy asked uncomfortably.

"You want to talk to me?"

"Yeah."

"Well, this sounds exciting. Will this be like actual `girl talk'? Boys, and sex and nail polish?" Anya asked happily.

"Well, maybe not the nail polish part. But I do like that color your wearing." Buffy added with a small smile.

"Well, thank you. I just got it the other day. I wasn't going to get it, but then Xander said it would be sexy.

So then-." Anya began rambling.

"I didn't actually want to talk about nail polish, Anya." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Oh, right. So what is it? Is this about the four times with Spike?" Anya asked bluntly.

Buffy cringed inwardly and nodded her head.

"Yeah. Sort of. Do you think I'm disgusting or insane?" She asked nervously.

"No. I mean, he is very attractive."

"Yeah, he is. But he's a vampire. And worse yet, he's Spike. I mean, ew." Buffy made a face.

"Well, you obviously weren't thinking he was all `ew' when you were, well, you know. Four times."

"Yeah. It was pretty wild." Buffy smiled to herself. Then she shook her head to dispel the memories. "Still, I know Xander nearly burst a blood vessel the other night."

"Well Xander has issues. Don't take it personally. He's very protective of you. I must admit, it's really annoying." Anya said shaking her head.

"Still, I can't help but think that no one will ever accept this."

"Well, what's there to accept? I thought you said it was over? One time mistake, and all that." Anya said quizzically.

"It was. A one time, never happen again mistake. You're right. I should just forget about it, and move on." Buffy said quickly.

Anya smiled.

"So, did I help you? Are you feeling better now?" Anya asked hopefully.

"Sure."

"Alright then. That was fun. We should do this again. But right now, I have another customer." Anya said, getting up and rushing to greet her patron.

Buffy sighed and slumped down in her chair. She didn't feel better. She felt the same, or possibly even more confused. And more than a little lonely. Anya meant well, but Buffy still didn't feel close to her. Not like Willow. Not like Giles. Not like her mother.

She missed them all terribly and all of them were gone now in one respect or another. It seemed like everyone was slipping away from her. She pushed back her emotions and stood up from the table. She headed into the training room to punch away her pain and loneliness.

* * * * * * * * * *

That evening, Buffy patrolled alone again. The night had grown cold, and she hugged her jacket tighter to her chest. There was a strong wind that had just picked up as she walked slowly through the cemetery. She glanced up at the night sky and noticed that it was completely dark. Storm clouds obstructed the moon and stars, plunging everything into blackness. For some reason, the atmosphere disturbed her.

She turned around and began to walk on to the next area to patrol. Apparently, even the vampires were too wigged out by the weird weather, to even bother coming out for a bite to eat. Just then, she felt a presence behind her. She clutched her stake and whirled around, prepared to fight.

As she turned, she was suddenly knocked off her feet. She landed hard on her back and stared up at the sky. She struggled to get up, but something was holding her down. She couldn't stop the panic from rising in her chest. As she stared upwards, she saw the same black mist from before, swirling around above her.

"Okay, Mr. Misty. What the hell do you want, huh?" She shouted into the air.

"You think you're real? You think you're actually alive?" She heard the ethereal whisper in the wind.

She gasped when she felt invisible hands around her throat. She tried to pull them off, but there was nothing there. Only pressure and pain, as she felt her breathing being squeezed off. She flailed around, trying desperately to shake off her invisible attacker. She felt the sensation of something cutting into the skin along her neck. Was it a claw? A dagger? She didn't see anything and couldn't even scream.

"You don't belong here." The voice hissed.

Just then, the force that was holding her down, gave way. She lay there gasping for breath, and clutching at her neck. She watched as the mist swirled quickly above her and dissipated. She stared at the ominous sky, trying to discern where the mist had gone. She saw a flash of lightening and was startled by the immediate crack of thunder. Large raindrops began to pelt her from above.

She grabbed her stake off the ground and stood up shakily. She steadied herself on a nearby grave stone. As the rain began to fall harder, she started walking slowly out of the cemetery. The rain was falling in sheets now, and the wind kept whipping the droplets into her face. It felt like a million tiny knives slicing into her skin. But she didn't care. She didn't notice. She was numb.

She walked aimlessly, knowing she should be heading for home. But something about the rain soothed her. It was almost a cleansing feeling. She wasn't sure if she was crying or not because the raindrops kept pelting her face, and stinging her eyes. The emptiness she felt was only made stronger by the words of some mystical, ghostly voice echoing in her head. You don't belong here…

She looked around and noticed that she was in an alley now. The rain sounded like tiny pebbles in a tin can, as they bounced off of a metal dumpster. The noise was almost deafening. She kept walking. As she rounded the corner, she saw someone coming towards her. Her eyesight was obscured by the water in her eyes, but as he moved closer, she recognized him.

Spike saw her wandering along the alleyway. He had gone for a drink and wound up getting caught in the rain. He hadn't expected to see her out here. He called her name.

"Buffy?"

She didn't answer, so he walked quicker towards her. As he grew closer, he saw the pain in her eyes and the blood seeping from her neck. The rain diluted it, and made the collar of her white shirt turn pink.

"What's wrong, Love? Did you get bitten?" He asked concerned.

"No. Um, it's just a cut. It's not deep." She said blankly as her hand traveled to her neck.

"What happened?" He asked curiously.

She just stared at him. Finally she whispered.

"Am I alive?"

"What?" He had no idea what was wrong with her or what she was talking about.

She looked at him intently, reading the worry and confusion on his face. Then she moved closer. She grabbed his jacket and yanked him to her. Her lips assaulted his furiously. He was taken by surprise for a moment, but it wasn't long before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly to him.

She pushed him back against the building they were standing in front of. She was trying so hard to feel something. Anything. She was desperately trying to prove that thing wrong. She was alive. She needed to feel alive.

Finally, she had to pull away because their kisses were almost suffocating. He looked into her sad eyes, searching for answers.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing?" He asked.

"I just…I don't know." She said breathlessly.

"Buffy, what's going on?" He asked softly.

"Am I alive?" She repeated her earlier question.

"Yes. Of course you are."

"It said I wasn't really alive. That I'm not even real. I don't belong here." She said, feeling a sob catch in her throat.

"What? Who said that?" He asked.

"That thing. That misty thing. It came back. It said I wasn't alive."

"Pet, you're alive. You know that." He said, touching her face gently.

"Am I? I mean, what if I'm just some kind of walking corpse? Like you." She said pointedly.

He rolled his eyes.

"You're not a corpse."

"Then why do I feel so dead? Why is it that the only time I really feel alive, is when I'm kissing a dead man? And why can't you just leave me alone? Can't you see that you're making things more complicated for me?" She asked angrily.

"What?" He wasn't sure why all of sudden she was yelling at him.

"This. Us. Kissing and other things. It's just making things worse. Can't you see that?"

"Why the hell are you putting this off on me?"

"Because. It's your fault."

"My fault? I didn't ask you to kiss me just now. In fact I never did. You're the one who can't keep your lips off me. And the other night, with the shagging? That was all your idea. I'm still sewing the buttons back on my favorite shirt, after you ripped it off. So don't blame me for this." He shouted angrily.

"You could have stopped me." She yelled, as the rain continued pummeling down on them.

"Stop you? Why would I want to do that?"

"Because! I was confused."

"You're confused? How the hell do you think I feel? You pull me in, then tell me I should leave you alone. I try to, and you just keep coming back! Make up your bloody mind!"

"Fine! I don't need you. I'd rather feel all dead inside than be with you." She said cruelly.

"Oh, poor you. You feel all dead inside. I'm crying a bloody river here." He mocked her.

"I hate you."

"I hate you too." He hissed through clenched teeth.

They stood in the alley in the pouring rain. They glared at each other intently, almost as if they were challenging each other with their eyes. Finally, Buffy snapped.

She jumped into his arms and began kissing him again. His first instinct was the throw her off of him and walk away. But he just couldn't do it. He was as confused as she was. He wanted to push her away, but at the same time, he wanted her so badly. She was driving him mad. But at this point, he just didn't care.

"You are driving me insane." He said between her urgent kisses.

"I know." She whispered back.

She grabbed his hand and started pulling him along with her.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"Your place."

He smiled and shook his head. If he wasn't already dead, she'd kill him for sure. His brain was still spinning from this little incoherent encounter. One minute she was kissing him, the next she was yelling at him for letting her do it. The she was kissing him again. It was tiring but exhilarating at the same time. One thing was for sure, she kept him constantly guessing.

They made their way quickly in the pouring rain. By now, they were both completely soaked and their clothes looked painted on. Her long skirt was plastered against her legs and her white shirt had become transparent over her skin. It was driving him wild. Every once in awhile, he'd have to stop walking, just to kiss her again.

Finally, they were inside of his crypt, neither really knowing how they had gotten there. All they knew, is that it was warmer and drier than it was outside. She grabbed him roughly and pressed her lips to his. She felt his tongue invade her mouth and she couldn't suppress her excitement.

She yanked his wet jacket off and tossed it aside. He did the same for her. She ran her hands down his chest and grabbed his shirt. She pulled it apart roughly, sending the buttons flying everywhere.

"Looks like you've got more sewing to do." She smiled as she kissed him again.

He ran his hands down over her breasts and caressed them through the saturated fabric. With one movement, he ripped her shirt open in the same manner she had done. He smirked at her.

"Looks like you've got some sewing to do yourself."

She smiled and pushed him backwards. He fell onto the ground and she leapt on top of him, straddling his legs. He reached up and ripped her rain soaked bra off and tossed it away. His hands immediately went to her breasts, caressing the stiff peaks that were hardened from the cold, and from his touch.

She moaned softly and he raised himself up to take one of her nipples into his mouth. His tongue circled around it as he sucked it gently. He kissed and licked his way over her breasts. She felt his lips and tongue and teeth exploring her body and she shuddered. He kissed his way up the side of her neck. To his surprise, on his tongue, was the coppery taste of her blood.

He had almost forgotten about the gash across her neck. It wasn't bleeding much anymore, but it was enough to make him dizzy with need. He couldn't help it. He was still a vampire. He snaked his tongue out and gently licked across her wound. She knew she should probably be turned off by that, but she wasn't. The sensation of his tongue made her squeeze her eyes shut in ecstasy. She moaned.

"Oh god…You taste so good." He murmured, as he began gently sucking along her neck.

Her hands reached down and fumbled with his zipper. His pants were practically glued onto his cold skin, from the rain. After a brief struggle, she managed to free him. He ran his hands underneath her skirt and gripped her panties firmly. He ripped them off, not wanting to take the time to pull them off slowly.

He was sitting up now and pulled her onto his lap. He couldn't help but let out a moan, as he felt himself being sheathed tightly in her warmth. Even after the other night, he still couldn't get over the utter bliss of being inside her.

She began to move slowly, grinding her body against his. He continued to kiss her neck, gently nibbling his way upward, until he met her lips again. He felt her tongue dart out and she ran it across his lower lip, teasing him.

He grabbed her tighter, and flipped her over onto the ground. She wrapped her legs around him, as he continued plunging himself into her depths. She felt her climax building and she dug her nails into his back. He kissed her harder.

His lips trailed down the side of her face, and onto her neck again. She grabbed his hair and forced his head up. He gazed at her intently, watching the expression of ecstasy on her face. They were watching each other. Connecting on a level that he never even thought possible. She felt it too, and it frightened her. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly in a desperate attempt to sever that connection. She concentrated only on the feel of his body and what it was doing to her.

He felt her body begin to quake with passion and her walls closed around him tightly. Her cries of pleasure were like music to his ears. He couldn't hold on. He groaned loudly and buried his face in her damp hair, as his body shuddered in rhythm with hers.

They lay there on the hard ground, half clothed, wet, and completely spent. He rolled off of her slowly and lay by her side. They both stared at the ceiling, not saying a word. He glanced over at her, to see if he could read her emotions. He saw a faint smile on her lips, which gratified him.

He rolled over and put his arm across her stomach, as he lay his head on her bare chest. She began stroking his hair softly, but still didn't say anything. She was completely confused. She didn't know what she was doing anymore. Nothing made sense at all. She had told herself that the only thing to do was stay away from him. But she just couldn't seem to follow through.

Finally, she broke the silence.

"Spike?" She said softly.

He looked up at her expectantly. Was she finally going to admit that she felt something for him? That they shared something completely intense and magical?

"Yes, Love?"

"I'm cold."

He sighed. Okay, so it wasn't an admission of love, but at least she was speaking. And not yelling at him either. He sat up and buttoned his pants. He walked over to his chair and grabbed a blanket. He brought it over to her.

"Thanks." She said softly, not looking at him. She wrapped it around her shoulders and held it tightly to her body.

"You know, maybe you should get out of that wet skirt. You might feel better." He offered.

"Yeah. I don't suppose you have something I could change into while my clothes dry?"

"Downstairs. Come on." He said offering her his hand.

She took it and followed him down the ladder. He went to his dresser and pulled out some clothes. He handed her a shirt and stared down into the dresser drawer uncomfortably. He wasn't sure if he should pull the other item out or not. Finally, he sighed. He picked up the pair of panties from the back of the drawer and handed them to her.

"Here."

She grabbed them and stared at him in disbelief.

"Are these mine?"

He nodded.

She stared at him incredulously.

"What are you doing with these?" She asked. Then she shook her head. "Never mind. I don't want to know."

She pulled them on and peeled her wet skirt off. She dropped the blanket from around her shoulders and pulled his dry shirt over her head. By now, he had changed his clothes and was sitting on the edge of the bed watching her.

She walked over to him and sat down. They sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes. Finally he spoke.

"So you wanna talk?" He asked.

"No. There's nothing to talk about." She said quickly.

He rolled his eyes.

"I meant about the thing that attacked you. You seemed pretty shaken up about it earlier." He explained.

"Oh, that. Right. Yeah." She stammered feeling foolish.

"So? What happened?"

"I was just out patrolling and it came out of nowhere. This time, it knocked me down and tried to choke me. That's when it said that I wasn't alive and didn't belong here." She explained.

"And the cut? Invisible knife again?"

"I guess."

"So what do you think this is?"

"I don't know. It's obviously not a good thing and it seems to want me dead. Again."

"Is it a ghost or something?"

"I-I don't know. Something similar happened right after I got back. This ghost thing started possessing everyone and tried to kill me. But I got rid of it. At least I thought I did." She said shaking her head.

"Well, maybe it's something else?"

"Maybe. I wish I could talk to Willow. She might know. I mean, if it has something to do with her spell again." She said quietly.

"Why don't you just call her?"

"Because. She doesn't want to talk to me. And I don't really want to talk to her. She keeps trying to mess with my mind and I'm freaked by it. I-I don't wanna see her right now."

"Okay."

"I don't really feel like talking about this. It's all just too creepy." She said laying back onto his bed.

Lately, all she wanted to do was avoid her problems. She didn't want to actively deal with anything anymore. Avoidance was easier.

He laid down next to her and began stroking her hair gently. He nuzzled his face against her neck and began kissing it softly. He just couldn't get enough of her.

She smiled under his touch and then quickly tried to shake the sensation away. She nudged him away from her.

"Stop."

"Why?"

"Because. We aren't doing that again. That thing, upstairs? That was the last time."

"Uh-huh." He agreed as he began gently nibbling on her earlobe.

"I'm serious. Stop it." She said firmly.

He sighed and looked at her with amusement.

"Don't look at me like that. I am serious. That was it. It's out of my system now." She protested.

"Right. Me too." He said with a smirk.

He leaned over and kissed her lips softly. He was tired of her games. He had sat back and took her indecision long enough. He wasn't giving in.

She wanted to push him away, but she just didn't have the willpower. She kissed him back. He pulled away and whispered into her ear softly.

"Are you sure I'm out of your system?"

"Yes. Totally." She said weakly.

He nibbled her ear again and felt her shudder under his touch.

"Well, maybe one more time. Just to be sure." She told him.

She grabbed him and kissed him hard. He responded readily. She peeled his shirt off again, but this time he hadn't buttoned it. She smiled into his kiss.

"This is really the last time though."

"Whatever you say." He said, as he removed her clothing once again.

* * * * * * * * * *