Chapter Forty: Grounded

On the walk back Buffy alternated between crying and vomiting. Spike had held her hair back gently, as she threw-up on the sidewalk, at the Sunny-D gates, and on the path leading to her cabin. When they finally reached the back door of Revello, he walked ahead to open it for her. When Buffy didn't move, he looked at her questioningly.

Buffy’s eyes focused on the ground and she whimpered softly. "Can I stay with you tonight? I really don’t want to deal with Anya. . . and being with you makes me feel. . ." Her voice trailed off before saying the last word.

Spike paused for a moment before nodding. Taking her small hand in his, he led them to The Crypt.

Spike opened the door a crack and peered inside. Everything seemed quiet so he opened the door wider to allow Buffy entrance.

Buffy stepped inside and followed closely behind Spike. The distance from the front door of The Crypt to his room was not far, but being too far away from him made her nervous. The way the soccer player had attacked Warren had frightened her, but not nearly as much as when that creep had her pinned against the brick wall.

Spike closed the door behind them and glanced over to his companion, who was now standing in the middle of the room, his duster wrapped tightly around her still trembling body. He took a deep, steadying breath and walked over to his dresser, pulling a black t-shirt from one of the drawers. "Come here," he beckoned softly, waving her over to his side.

Buffy silently approached him, avoiding his gaze. When she finally reached him, he removed the duster from her small frame and offered her the t-shirt he’d taken from his dresser.

"You get changed, I'm going to go wash up," he said quietly, indicating the bathroom.

Buffy nodded in response and examined the soft material in her hands. When the click of the latch to the bathroom door echoed through the room, she raised the material to her face and inhaled deeply. The scent of fabric softener did little to mask the residual Spike scent that always calmed her nerves. She pulled off her own shirt, then put on the tee, smoothing it with still-shaky hands. She then approached the bathroom, knocking tentatively before peering inside. Her eyes immediately lit on Spike, who was washing dried blood from his knuckles. Until now she hadn't realized just how much he'd cut up his hand when he'd pounded on Warren's face. "Your hand is hurt," she said softly, trying not to startle him.

Spike turned around, drying his hands with a washcloth, then discarding it in the wastebasket. "Same to you," he said indicating where she had scraped her hand against the bricks.

Buffy glanced down to her hand then quickly moved it behind her back. "Right."

"I'll take care of you. C'mere." He pulled her slowly towards the sink, and turned on the water. Gingerly taking her hand, he held it under the warm stream, concern evident in his eyes when she winced from the sting. "You'll be alright. It's just a scrape."

Buffy nodded and lifted her eyes to the mirror. "I'm a mess," she said softly, tears filling her eyes.

Spike took another washcloth and dampened it with warm water. Sitting her down on the edge of the tub, he began removing the mascara that had run down her cheeks. "Better?"

Buffy nodded again and looked down at her bare knees. Her eyes returned to his face. "Spike, I'm – “ she cut off, bolting toward the toilet and emptying the contents of her stomach.

Spike rushed to her side and pulled back her hair with one hand, using the other to rub soothing circles into her upper back. When a sob escaped her throat between dry-heaves, he shushed her tears, murmuring words of comfort. As her back shuddered underneath his hand, he chanced speaking again. "All finished?"

Buffy rolled back to sit on her heels and flushed the toilet. "God, I hope so."

Taking her hand, he lifted her to her feet, and led her back over to the sink. "Here." Spike handed her a cup of mouthwash and watched as she gurgled it then spit it into the sink. "Now I won't have to worry about you breathing on me," he said with a smirk. When she didn't respond, he turned his attentions back to the sink, rinsing the basin and filling it with warm water. He moved behind her, smoothing her hair back into a low ponytail. "Close your eyes," he said to her reflection, "and hold your breath."

Buffy did as she was told and relaxed as Spike gently nudged her face into the water. When she came up, he turned her to face him. Her eyes remained closed, as he padded her face dry with a fresh towel.

"You can open your eyes now," he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Take these." He handed her two Aspirin and a glass of water, watching as she quickly gulped them down.

Buffy gazed up at him, as she returned the glass. Their fingers touched for a split second, causing Spike to jump.

He cleared his throat and placed the glass on the sink. "You should get some sleep." He led her out of the bathroom, nodding at the bed. "You go ahead, I'm going to stay up awhile longer."

"Okay," she said softly, climbing onto the bed.

Spike squatted next to the alarm clock, setting it to six a.m. "So we can get you out of here before the boys catch you half naked in my bed," he explained.

Buffy giggled quietly and pulled the covers up under her chin. Disappointment flashed across her face when he moved over to the desk. She closed her eyes, and sighed, enjoying the feeling of the soft pillow beneath her pounding head. "Spike," she said softly.

"Yeah?"

After a long pause she spoke up again. "Why is the room spinning?"

Spike chuckled low in his throat and took a seat on the chair. "That would be from the Jäger, pet."

"Oh," she said, turning over to her back, gazing towards the ceiling. "Can you make it stop?"

He walked over to her and kneeled beside the bed. He took hold of one of her hands and dangled it over one side of the bed, repeating the action with one of her legs. "That should ground you for awhile."

Buffy closed her eyes again, testing his theory. When she realized he was right, a small smile spread across her face. "Thank you."

Spike clicked off the light and made his way back over to the large recliner. Resting his cheek against his hand, he gazed at the young woman in his bed. Things needed to be said, but now was not the right time. They’d have a talk in the morning. His eyes drifted closed, and he shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable.

"This bed is big enough for two, you know," a quiet voice said from across the room.

"Buffy, I don't think . . ."

"I insist," she said softly, her eyes still closed.

Spike sighed and rose to his feet, walking over to the dresser. He pulled out a pair of soccer shorts and draped them over the back of the chair, then stripped. Considering he usually slept in the nude, it was probably a good idea to put something on, if he was going to be sharing his bed. As soon as the shorts were in place he climbed into the bed next to her.

Buffy let out a small, contented sigh, when she felt the mattress sink down. She rolled towards him and rested her head against his bare chest.

"Buffy, maybe we should . . ."

"Shhh," she murmured against his chest, snuggling closer. "Just go to sleep." She tugged on one of his arms, then wrapped it about her shoulders.

"Fine." He let out the deep breath he was holding and pulled her tightly against him. "Just don't heave on me in the middle of the night."

"I’ll try my best," she said with a soft giggle, before drifting off to sleep.

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Buffy awoke as the first rays of daylight filtered through Spike's window. She was snuggled close to his hard-muscled body, her limbs intertwined with his own. One of her legs was thrown over Spike's hip, and she couldn't help but notice the erection pressing against her inner thigh. Opening her eyes she gazed at the sleeping man. 'How could I even think that he would get involved with Drusilla? I’m such an idiot,' she thought sheepishly.

Buffy gently removed her arm from around Spike's back, trying not to wake him, and wormed it between their bodies. Slowly she ran her fingertips up his chest, down his arm, across his jaw, over the scar on his eyebrow, before finally reaching his lips. She gasped when he murmured her name softly, and his hands unconsciously took hold of her ass, pulling her against his erection. Buffy mewled and ignored the pounding in her skull, focusing instead on the delicious sensations building within her.

Lifting her head slightly she placed a feather-light kiss against his lips. With a small groan, his lips parted, allowing her room to deepen the kiss. "Mmmm, Buffy," he moaned again between kisses, rolling to his back so she could lie on top of him. Buffy straddled his hips and leaned over to capture his lips once more, sliding her hands beneath his shoulders. She let out a deep moan when she felt his fingers slip inside her panties, kneading the flesh of her naked buttocks. Suddenly, she was on her back, her thighs pressed against his hips. As he thrust against her, Buffy bit one lip, trying to suppress her moans.

Spike's head fell next to hers, his face in her neck. "Oh Buffy," he whispered, between kisses and nibbles.

Buffy used her feet to push his shorts down his legs, and he kicked them off. As his penis prodded her opening, she whispered in his ear. "I've missed you so much."

"Missed you too," he said, lifting himself onto his forearms, preparing to slip into her body.

"Look at me," she insisted, gulping for air. "I need you to look at me," she repeated, taking hold of his strong arms.

Spike's eyes fluttered open and he looked at the trembling woman below him through hazy eyes. "Oh god Buffy." His hips twitched against hers, teasing her entrance.

"Spike . . .please," she begged, tightening her grip on his biceps.

Suddenly, Spike snapped to attention and leapt off the bed, taking the comforter with him.

Buffy rose to her knees, and gazed at the shaking man before her, wrapped protectively in the blanket. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"Buffy?" he asked questioningly, as if he were assessing her presence for the first time.

"Spike, are you okay?" Buffy swung her legs around, her feet coming in contact with the cold floor, and she rose to her feet, taking a few tentative steps in his direction. "If you want to wait, that's fine," she said softly, reaching one hand towards him.

Spike shook his head and looked to the ground. One moment he’d been dreaming of making love to Buffy, and the next he’d awoken nude and between her legs. "I'm so confused."

"That's okay, just come back to bed," she whispered, taking his hand. "Let's just sleep."

"That's what I was doing," he said softly.

"What?"

Spike looked up at her face and tried to explain. "I was dreaming. . .I thought it was. . .I didn't know . . ."

Buffy's eyes went wide with realization. "Oh. . .ok," she said softly, trying to mask the hurt in her voice.

"Yeah, so I don't think I should get back in that bed with you," he said pointing towards the mattress and rumpled sheets.

"Why? I thought we were kind of together. Sleeping in the same bed is ok now, remember?"

Spike took a deep breath and sat on the end of the bed. "Maybe we shouldn't be."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, voice wavering with fear.

"I think we jumped the gun. We're not ready yet - atleast you're not."

Buffy dropped to her knees before him and placed her hands on his. "No, I am. . .I swear."

Spike lifted his head to look in her eyes. "No. . .you're not. I thought we had finally reached a point where we could trust each other - be together without the constant drama." Spike sighed when he heard Buffy sniffle back her tears. "One day back and you think I'm with Dru? Shame on you, Buffy."

"I know," she whimpered softly, "and I'm sorry. She set me up and I completely fell for it. She made me think. . .," Buffy took a deep breath and paused momentarily before continuing. "I overreacted and-"

"Overreacted? I'd say," he said shaking his head. "And look where it got you? Plastered and about to be raped."

Buffy's eyes snapped up to his, flashing with anger. "I seem to remember about a week ago, someone getting pretty 'pissed' and working out his issues through some kind of new Karaoke therapy." She forced out a strained laugh, and continued to glare at him. "Not to mention, that another certain someone helped him off his ass to go win a soccer match. I wonder who that was Spike?"

"You're right," he said softly, closing his eyes. "I shouldn't have said that. I was out of line." When he sensed that she’d relaxed he opened his eyes once more. "But my Karaoke-antics were a week ago. Things are supposed to be different now. I can't take this constant hot and cold with you. I need to know that we're on the same page," he paused and gulped down the knot that had formed in his throat. "And right now, I don't think we are."

Buffy shook her head rapidly. "You're wrong. There were things that she said . . .and did-" she choked down the sob that was waiting to break free. "Just give me a chance . . .please."

Spike sniffed back his own tears, wanting desperately to cave into her wishes; but he knew, if things were ever going to work between them, the line had to be drawn. "It's not her. It's you. You don't trust me Buffy. How can we be together if I don't have your trust?"

"That's fair. I can't blame her for my mistakes," she said, nodding in agreement. "But I do trust you," she pleaded, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I trust you with my life." She lifted his injured hand and held it to her cheek, kissing his scabbed knuckles lightly.

Spike pulled his hand away. "I don't want your gratitude. I want you," he said, staring deeply into her tear-filled eyes.

"Then why can't we be together?" she asked through her tears, placing her hands to his knees.

He inhaled deeply, searching desperately for a way to make her comprehend what he was feeling. "Because I shouldn't have to beat some guy's head in to prove myself to you. That's not real. That's not trust." He paused again to gather his thoughts before continuing. "Trust is something that is unspoken; it isn't dependent on actions. Do you understand?" he asked, running one hand through her hair. "Without that trust, I don't really have you."

Buffy nodded and rose to her feet, looking down at him. "I understand. But you're wrong." She walked over to her pile of clothes on the floor and stepped into her black skirt. "Not about trust, and what it means. But about me." She looked at him sadly, and shook her head. "I just hope you realize that soon." Buffy pulled off Spike's t-shirt and discarded it to the floor before slipping on her tanktop. "Do you see that clock over there?" Buffy asked, pointing to the alarm clock on Spike's nightstand.

Spike quirked an eyebrow in her direction, confused by the question.

Buffy shook her head and walked over to the doorway. "Time doesn't stand still while you try to figure things out Spike - it just keeps ticking away." She looked at him pointedly as she reached for the doorknob. "And there's not much left."

Spike’s gaze followed her retreating form. When the door clicked shut he glanced over to the alarm clock, before falling back on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling while he mulled over her words. Suddenly, the awful beeping of the alarm clock filled the room. He shot up, smacking the snooze button to silence the horrid noise. His eyes locked on the clock, before slowly moving over to the door, realization finally hitting him. "Bloody hell!" He ran towards the door, flinging it open. He looked up and down the hallway, but she was already gone. He closed the door again and let his forehead fall against the wood. "Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks," he ground out as he banged his head repeatedly against the door. 'You stupid wanker. Here you are lecturing the girl about trust, and you're doubting every word out of her mouth!' Spike turned around and rested his back against the door, facing into his room. 'Stupid git! You WILL make this up to her.' He glanced over to the clock once more. 'And fast.'

41. Hopeless

DAY 21

Spike stood in front of the large wooden door and lifted a trembling hand to knock on it. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd been more nervous.

"Come in," a soft voice called from the other side of the door, beckoning him to enter.

Spike poked his head inside and searched the room for the woman he desperately needed to speak with. "Joyce?"

The woman's head popped up from her notes, her eyes resting on the young British man before her. "Oh. Hello Spike."

Spike grinned weakly in her direction and entered the room, taking a seat on the couch in the center of the floor. Leaning forward on his knees, he looked down at his own hands, afraid of meeting the camp director's disapproving gaze. He took a deep breath and began to speak. "Ms. Summers, before I begin I think I ought to . . ."

"Apologize?" she piped in before he had a chance to finish. Joyce rose from her place at the desk and joined Spike on the couch.

The young man tensed even further when he felt the couch give-in from the added weight. "Yeah," he said sheepishly.

"No need." Joyce patted his hand lightly. "I mean, thank you. . .but I think I may have overreacted slightly that night at the lake."

Spike's eyes went wide and he turned to her, a look of sheer disbelief plastered across his handsome features. "What? No, you were right. It was inappropriate and we were way out of line."

Joyce let out an airy laugh, and waved her hand in his direction. "No more out of line than I was when I led the entire counseling staff on a midnight streaking of the campgrounds when I was your age."

Spike's mouth dropped open, still unable to comprehend the woman's words.

"What? You don't honestly think I was always this uptight do you?" She held her hand up. "Don't answer that." Taking a deep breath, Joyce rose to her feet and walked over to the wall of photos opposite the couch. "I guess I just forgot what it was like to be young and in love." On the last word, she turned around and shot Spike a knowing look, before returning to the pictures.

Spike's eyes darted back to his hands. "Yah. . .about that-"

"Are you and Buffy 'off' again?" Joyce asked quietly, as she poured water from the kettle into a big white Sunny-D mug.

Spike shrugged and began pulling at his fingernails. "I guess you could say that."

"Who's fault is it this time?" She took a seat on the couch and placed the hot cup of cocoa on the table in front of Spike.

His eyes lit up at the gesture and he quickly lifted the cup to his lips, slurping up one of the mini-marshmallows he loved so much. "Hers. . .mine. . .ours. It's hard to say," he explained between gulps. He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Although, I think, towards the end, it was mine."

Joyce nodded and rested one arm along the back of the couch. "At least you'll admit that much. Most men will never admit they're wrong about anything."

Spike chuckled and grinned at the woman beside him. "So what do I do?"

She patted him on the shoulder lightly. "Well, that depends on what you did? How do I know that it wasn't something completely awful? That you're not a lousy creep I don't want my daughter mixed up with?" Joyce had to repress a laugh when Spike looked up at her with pain-filled eyes, and a hot cocoa mustache. "I take that back," she said, using her sleeve to wipe the mess from his mouth. "If I know Buffy - and I do - I'd say that she's not going to let you get away with anything too easily. Especially after how stubborn she'd been about getting together with you in the first place." Off of another one of Spike's disbelieving stares, she shook her head and continued. "What? You think I haven't been pushing for this relationship since the day you got out of the airport van? I know my daughter, as much as she hates to admit it," she said, lifting her hands in concession, before dropping them to her lap, "and I know my counselors. I had you two pegged the second you signed your contract."

Spike laughed and rested back against the couch. "So what do you suggest . . .oh wise one?"

"Think big," Joyce replied, poked her finger to his chest for emphasis. "Buffy likes grand gestures. No little bottle of bubbles or flowers will cut it this time."

"How did you. . .?" Spike asked in bewilderment, before shaking his head. "Never mind. I'll just accept the fact that you know all."

"And don't you forget it," she said, slapping his knee playfully. "So go on, get out of here." She rose from the couch and pulled him to his feet. "And go think big!"

"But I don't. . ."

Joyce pushed him towards the door. "That's all you're getting out of me."

Spike pouted slightly and opened the door to exit.

"And Spike," she said, halting his retreat. "Don't forget that the end of session banquet is in two days. You'll want to look sharp."

Spike grinned widely and nodded in her direction.

"Are you planning anything for the post-dinner festivities in the theater?"

"What's that?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing really," Joyce shrugged innocently. "It's just that, some of the classes put together a little something. . .special. . .for the rest of the camp. You know. . .as a surprise."

Spike furrowed his brows at the woman and shook his head again. "I still don't. . ."

Joyce let out an exasperated sigh, much like one her daughter would make. "Goodbye Spike." She pushed him the rest of the way out of the door before closing it behind him. "Hopeless," she said with a sigh before moving further into her room. "They are all hopeless."

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"What do you mean, you don't get it?" the angry brunette asked, fuming at her boyfriend.

"I'm just saying that Buffy was out of line, and I understand why Spike decided to take a step back," Xander said, explaining his position. He and Cordy had been having the 'Buffy versus Spike' debate for the last half an hour behind his cabin. At the moment, he seemed to be losing.

"Of course you do!" Cordelia exclaimed in exasperation. "Just like a man. . .take the guy's side. What about your precious Buffy?"

Xander rolled his eyes at his girlfriend. "Well, little Buffy got herself a little drunk," he said, drawing out the word 'little' in a high-pitched voice. "I mean, can you really blame Spike for wanting to get off the roller coaster before the cart completely flew off the track?"

"Oh, and Spike is sooooo innocent." Cordelia took a step away from Xander and placed her hands on her hips. "You were there Xander. You know, when he nearly blew chunks all over the floor of the Bronze after screaming obscenities into a karaoke mic."

Xander took a step towards his girlfriend, and spoke in a soft, even tone. "That was a long time ago, Cordy. That was before . . ."

"A long time?" she asked in disbelief. "It was a week, Xander. One. Week."

"Camp time sweetie," he said, patting her head in a condescending manner. "You know the drill."

Cordy let out a groan and smacked his hand away. "Whatever. Like that matters anyway, ALEXANDER, they both screwed up. I just can't believe you're taking his side over Buffy's."

"I'm not taking anyone's side Cordelia. Why can't we just go back to what we were doing before?" He batted his eyelashes at the angry woman and pulled her closely to him.

Cordelia felt her resistance waver as Xander placed light kisses up and down her collarbone.

Xander inhaled her scent deeply and hugged her flush against his body. "See," he whispered softly into her ear, "isn't this nicer than fighting over a stupid-"

Cordelia snapped to attention and pushed him away. "It is NOT stupid. You guys keep pushing and pushing for what you want, then the second you get it, you don't want it anymore. And then you're off playing footsie with skinny redheads under the table!"

"Cordy, I already explained that Willow and I were just goofing around. It was completely innocent." Xander grabbed Cordelia's hands trying to make her understand that what she had seen earlier that day was NOT what it looked like. He and Willow were just tormenting her campers. Sometime during the first session they had gone from thinking Willow and Spike were an item, to convincing themselves that Willow and Xander were engaged.

"Don't you think I know that?" Cordy spat, dropping Xander's hands. "Like she could ever steal you away from me anyway!" Cordy flipped her hair and smoothed her blue tank top over her skin.

Xander froze and eyed his girlfriend curiously. "What is this really about Cordy? Cuz I know you're really not that vested in other people's relationships. That would defeat the whole 'Cordy first' policy you have going on. And, like you just said, you're not threatened by Willow. So, what gives?"

"What gives? WHAT GIVES? First of all, I resent that you think I'm so self-centered not to care about the well-being of my good friend Buffy." When Xander scoffed at that remark, Cordelia's eyes flashed and she poked him sharply in the chest. "I'm talking. It's my turn now." She brushed away the hair that had fallen into her eyes. "Second of all, I would think that you would know by know that . . ."

"Hey guys, is this a bad time?"

Cordy and Xander both turned to see Spike standing on the back steps of Xander's cabin, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets.

"Oh. . .look who it is Xander," Cordelia drawled sweetly. "It's the soulless thing who left Buffy heartbroken."

"Cordy-" Xander said, trying to silence his girlfriend. He hadn't talked to Spike about what had happened, but by the look of him, he could tell that he wasn't in the best shape.

"There you go again, defending him! I am soooo out of here." With that, Cordelia stomped off in the direction of her own cabin, leaving Spike and Xander standing in silence.

"I take it, by her reaction, that you already know about me and Buffy," Spike said sheepishly, slumping down on the steps.

"Are you kidding?" Xander asked, taking a seat beside his friend. "The whole staff knows about it. It's the hottest gossip of the moment. You know, ever since the whole, 'Jonathan peeing in the pool' incident died down."

"I heard about that. I didn't even know we had a pool." Spike said, looking at Xander quizzically.

"Me neither," Xander said with a shrug. "But that's a different story. So you and the Buffster off again, huh?"

"Same with you and the Queen-C, from the looks of it." Spike tilted his head in the direction of Cordelia's exit and raised an eyebrow at his friend.

Xander nodded rapidly. "Yeah, girls are weird."

"Tell me about it," Spike said with a sigh, letting his face drop into his hands. He pushed his palms into his eyes and rubbed them for a few seconds before returning his gaze to Xander. "But no matter. I think we need to take some action. Do some sort of grand gesture," he added, waving his hands around.

"Got something in mind?" Xander asked curiously, eyeing the Brit with new found interest.

"I may have a few ideas," Spike said with a smirk. "But I need your help. . .and Oz's too."

Xander rubbed his hands together conspiratorially. "So what's this plan of yours?"

tbc…

42. A Little Taste

DAY 22

There were only three days left until the final performances of the first session, and Buffy was going crazy. She was running from rehearsal to rehearsal and barely had any time to stop and think about anything. . .even Spike. Sure, he had kind of broken up with her the night before last, but she was partly to blame. Even she couldn't deny that. But why wasn't he coming to her now? Why wasn't he apologizing on his hands and knees, trying to get her back? Where were the bubbles? The flowers? The smoochies?

"Errrrahhh - STOP!" Buffy heard herself scream, trying to silence her thoughts. She really didn't have time to agonize over her camp relationship.

The campers on stage froze in their tracks, eyeing their instructor nervously. One bold girl raised her hand and walked towards the front of the stage. "Buffy, we stopped. . .now what?"

Buffy's eyes went wide and she nodded to the accompanist to begin playing again. "Start again from the top. Just watch your . . ." Buffy paused for a moment, trying to find something to correct them on, "spacing. . .yeah, watch your spacing."

The kids nodded and went back to work. Buffy inhaled deeply and plopped down into her seat. Placing her face in her hands she rubbed her eyes lightly, desperately trying to quiet the voices in her head.

"Still feelin' it, huh?"

"What's that?" Buffy's head shot up, only to find Spike standing in front of her.

"I know of a great cure. Takes the pain away like that," he snapped his fingers at the final word before flashing her his usual seductive smirk.

"I. . .uh. . .ah" Buffy stammered out a long trail of unintelligible syllables ending with a very confused, "Huh?" Spike hadn't spoken with her since she left his room and now he was being all flirtatious, what was going on?

"Fine," he chuckled low in his throat at the woman's response. "I've got a nice big empty bed if you decide to take me up on the offer later."

Spike stalked away, leaving a shell-shocked Buffy staring off behind him. Just as she was about to turn back to the campers on stage, he was at her side again. Chills shot up her spine when she felt his hot breath in her ear. "Although, a bed really isn't a necessity for us, is it pet?"

Buffy's face flushed a deep shade of red at his comment. Before she could respond he was out the door. She ran her fingers through her hair and looked up to the ceiling. "What the hell is going on?"

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"I don't get it?!?"

Willow and Cordy looked at each other and then back at Buffy. "Spike," they said in unison before looking back down at their magazines.

Buffy rolled her eyes and grabbed the magazines from her friends' hands, tossing them aside. "No. . .Jonathan and the pool. Of course, Spike!" she screeched. She sunk to the grass and began picking out individual blades and tying them into knots. "Get this. First, he ends things with me because he thinks we're not ready. . .or, I'm not ready. Then he doesn't even talk to me for a day and a half. And not five minutes ago he majorly came on to me in the middle of one of my rehearsals. When is he going to make up his mind?!?"

Cordy and Willow glanced at each other again before bursting out into laughter. "How does it taste?" the redhead asked Buffy through giggles.

"What?" Buffy asked in confusion.

"You're own medicine, doofus," Willow replied, smacking her friend lightly on the forehead.

Buffy jutted out her lower lip into a pout. "Whatever, I sooo did not. . ."

Willow and Cordy froze and eyed their friend skeptically.

"Fine," Buffy admitted with a huff, "maybe I did. But that doesn't mean he can do it now!" Buffy tore at the grass she'd been playing with and threw the little bits at her friends.

Cordy brushed the green fragments from her top and shook her head at the petite blonde. "Hey, at least your guy is even talking to you. Xander hasn't said two words to me since yesterday."

"What did you do?" Buffy asked seriously.

"What did I do? More like what you did!!" She said sharply to the woman in front of her. "If I hadn't been so adamantly defending you I would be back in the broom closet with my man, instead of talking to you right now."

Buffy and Willow started laughing at that. "You, defended me!?!" Buffy squeaked out through her giggles. "Really Cordy, I appreciate it, but next time. . .don't bother."

Cordelia opened her to protest, but decided better of it, and instead joined them in laughter. "What about you Wills? How's the Oz-man doing?"

"I have no idea!" Willow burst out in laughter again. "He's been avoiding me!!!"

The women were nearly rolling on the grass with laughter. After a few moments they calmed down, and lay prone on the grass.

"Seriously, what are the odds?" Buffy said, her chest still heaving from her erratic breathing.

"Of what?" Willow questioned, looking up at the clear sky.

Buffy rolled over to look at her friends. "That in the same summer we all have boyfriends - who all happen to be friends, making us better friends - and on the same day, they all start getting weird with us?"

Buffy, Willow and Cordelia eyed each other curiously, finally taking note of the weirdness of the situation.

Cordy was the first to break the silence. "Well, I always have a boyfriend at camp," she said with a small shrug.

Willow and Buffy's eyes went wide, then after a few moments, the two girls were rolling with laughter once more.

Cordy furrowed her brow as she watched the two girls rolling on the grass, laughing at her expense. "What? I do!"

----------------------------

"Let's start with the 'Somewhere Ballet,' then run the whole show from the top." Buffy took her usual seat at the front of the theater and watched as the Maria and Tony danced the first part of the Ballet flawlessly. She and the rest of the cast applauded loudly when they executed the most difficult lift. "Beautiful!" she shrieked in excitement. Soon the other couples entered the stage and continued with the next segment of music. It looked good, but Buffy could tell something was off. She rose to her feet and approached the stage, signaling them to continue. Finally, she spotted the problem. "Wait! Wait! Hold it!" The accompaniment stopped and she hopped up onto the stage, approaching the couple on stage left. "Janice, where are your usual partners?"

Janice eyed Ryan nervously before looking back to Buffy. "I don't know," she said softly, before looking down to her ballet-shoe clad feet.

Buffy sighed and turned her attention to Ryan. "Do you know where Conner and Dawn are, Ryan?"

The teenager chanced a glance at the counselor and shook his head slowly.

Buffy let out a strained laugh and turned around to face the rest of the cast. "Does anyone know where Conner and Dawn are?"

"We're here! We're here!"

Buffy looked to the back of the theater and saw Conner and Dawn running down the aisle, out of breath. She glanced down at her watch then placed her hands on her hips. "You're fifteen minutes late. Where have you been?"

Dawn tore off her sneakers and hopped up onto the stage, struggling to put on her dance shoes as she ran to her partner. "I'm soooo sorry, Buffy. We were. . ." she looked over to Conner, then back to her counselor, "We lost track of time. I'm really sorry."

"Oh. . .as sorry as you were last night when you showed up a half an hour past in-time? This behavior is inexcusable, Dawn." Buffy shook her head at the young woman.

"Buffy, please don't do this in front of everybody," the teenager pleaded. "It's not what you think. I swear."

Buffy laughed in disbelief. "Is that right? So you weren't off making out behind the scoreboard again with your little boyfriend?"

"Buffy it's not. . ." Conner said, stepping in their defense.

"Conner, Conner, Conner," Buffy waved her finger at him. "And you were doing so well since I busted you the last time. What is Spike going to say when he finds out?"

"He already knows. We were with him." Conner exclaimed, only to receive a sharp jab in the ribs from Dawn.

"Oh, that's rich!" Buffy let out a loud chuckle. "Spike is now keeping you from my rehearsals. Should I be surprised?"

Dawn took a step towards her counselor, her lower lip quivering. "Buffy, don't get mad at him. He's the one who told us to get our butts over here. He knew you’d be mad."

"Enough!" Buffy lifted her hands to silence the young girl. "Let's get back to work. We've wasted enough time already." With that, Buffy jumped off the stage, and took her seat once again. "From the top!!"

------------------------------

A few hours later the rehearsal was finally finished. "Good rehearsal guys," Buffy said, applauding their efforts. "If you're in my cabin, you have twenty minutes til in-time. Use them wisely!" Buffy turned around and began gathering up her own items. When everything was in place, she swung her dance bag over her shoulder and exited the theater through the side doors. Buffy stopped in her tracks when she saw Spike sitting on the cement steps next to the doors, smoking a cigarette.

Finally noticing her presence he jumped to his feet and quickly stomped out his 'fag.' "Hey, I was waiting for you."

Buffy looked down at the pile of cigarette butts near his feet and laughed. "I hope you weren't waiting too long?" She shook her head at him and bounded down the steps in the direction of Revello.

After jogging a few steps, Spike caught up with her. He placed a light hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. His blue eyes gazed deeply into hers as he spoke. "Look, I'm sorry I kept them from your rehearsal thing."

"Rehearsal thing?" Buffy scoffed. "The ‘rehearsal thing’ you are referring to is the reason they come to this camp, in case you've forgotten. This was the last night rehearsal they have before the big performance." Buffy lifted her right hand and counted the time remaining on her fingers. "Tomorrow night, banquet. The next, curtain goes up."

"I know-" Spike covered her hand with his own and lowered in gently. "-and I'm sorry."

Buffy found herself lost in Spike's comforting gaze. She gulped back the knot that was forming in her throat. "Yeah, well," she shook off the goose-bumps that were forming on her arms from the close contact with him, "it's hard for you to understand. You're not in the theater department. But in a few days, I start this all over again." She waved her hand towards the theater. "With a whole new batch of kids, and a few that decide to stick around for the second session." She tilted her head to the side and gazed into his eyes seriously. "I can't have them coming in with the impression that I can't control my rehearsals, ok?"

Spike nodded and gently ran his fingers through her silken hair. Buffy relaxed into his touch and felt her eyes flutter close, and her heart begin to race. "I didn't mean to get snappish," she whispered softly, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Spike smiled and proceeded to run light circles over her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "It's understandable. Feel better?"

Buffy opened her eyes slowly, her breath hitching in her throat at his closeness. Their faces were mere inches apart, the heat coming off of him in waves. "Yeah," she responded, barely above a whisper.

Spike took a deep breath and lifted his other hand to cup Buffy's face. 'This is not part of the plan, Spike,' a little voice sounded in the back of his mind. 'Sod the bleedin' plan,' another replied. He leaned in closer, licking his lips lightly in preparation for the kiss.

Buffy closed her eyes once more, anticipating his next move. Her hands made their way to his waist, pulling him closer to her. Ever so lightly, she felt Spike graze her lips with his own. The kiss was soft and sweet and light as a feather. Buffy sighed and leaned forward to meet his lips again. 'Just one more taste, Buffy, then you can get the campers inside.'

Spike grinned and captured her full lips in a searing kiss. He slid his tongue inside her waiting mouth, exploring its depths. He let out a low groan, as he felt one of her hands slide down to cup his ass. 'Looks like grand gestures weren't necessary after all!' Spike snaked his hands into Buffy's hair and walked her backwards towards the side of the theater building.

Buffy snorted when he tripped over a loose branch, causing them both to stumble into the brick. Before he could protest, and defend his male ego, Buffy pulled him into another liplock.

After a few moments, they broke apart for much needed air. Spike grinned widely and placed light pecks on Buffy's lips, trailing across her jaw to her neck.

When he nuzzled into her neck and nibbled lightly, Buffy let out a soft giggle. "Careful, if you leave marks, the kids are going to know what we were doing."

"Don't care," Spike said, still buried in her neck. He placed a soft, open-mouth, bite to her jugular, allowing his tongue and teeth to linger against her smooth skin for a few seconds.

Buffy gasped at the action and felt her legs get wobbly. "We should probably go," she panted, twirling his hair between her fingers, not really wanting to separate from him.

He nipped on her earlobe, before sucking the piece of flesh into his mouth. "Wouldn't want to be late," he agreed, and kissed her full on the mouth once more.

"Why. . .were. . .they?" Buffy managed to say between kisses.

Spike ignored the question and instead deepened to kiss.

"Wait," she said, pushing his shoulder's lightly. "Why were they late?"

Spike looked at her through hooded eyes, still in his kiss-induced haze. "What?" he asked, trailing his fingers down her arms, before finally clasping her hands with his own.

Buffy laughed and pulled their hands between their bodies. "For my rehearsal."

"Oh, that!" Spike's eyes went wide and he quickly looked down to the ground. "It was no big deal," he shrugged and leaned in to kiss her again.

Buffy released one hand from his grasp and placed it over his mouth, halting his approach. "If it's no big deal, why won't you tell me?" She eyed him curiously.

"Oh, come on!" Spike protested as he pulled her hand away from his mouth. "You're gonna ruin it!! Can't you just trust me for once?" Buffy's eyes flashed with anger, causing Spike to back-pedal as quickly as possible. "That's not what I meant," he insisted, raising his hands in the air. "Bad choice of words. I'm sorry."

"No that's fine, I get it. . ." she said as she picked up her dance bag. Buffy shook her head at the young Brit and pushed her way past him. She let out a deep sigh and took off towards her cabin.

"Buffy!" Spike called after her. "Damn!" He kicked the brick wall and placed his hands against the rough surface. "Nice going, Spike," he told himself, shaking his head dejectedly. "I guess it's back to Plan A."

tbc…