The Trouble With Keeping Promises by Jaesha

1. Chapter 1 by Jaesha

2. Chapter 2 by Jaesha

3. Chapter 3 by Jaesha

4. Chapter 4 by Jaesha

5. Chapter 5 by Jaesha

6. Chapter 6 by Jaesha

7. Chapter 7 by Jaesha

8. Chapter 8 by Jaesha

9. Chapter 9 by Jaesha

10. Chapter 10 by Jaesha

11. Chapter 11 by Jaesha

12. Chapter 12 by Jaesha

13. Chapter 13 by Jaesha

14. Chapter 14 by Jaesha

15. Chapter 15 by Jaesha

16. Chapter 16 by Jaesha

17. Chapter 17 by Jaesha

18. Chapter 18 by Jaesha

19. Chapter 19 by Jaesha

20. Chapter 20 by Jaesha

21. Chapter 21 by Jaesha

22. Chapter 22 by Jaesha

23. Chapter 23 by Jaesha

24. Chapter 24 by Jaesha

25. Chapter 25 by Jaesha

26. Chapter 26 by Jaesha

27. Chapter 27 by Jaesha

28. Chapter 28 by Jaesha

29. Chapter 29 by Jaesha

30. Chapter 30 by Jaesha

31. Chapter 31 by Jaesha

32. Chapter 32 by Jaesha

33. Chapter 33 by Jaesha

Chapter 1 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
Many apologies about the Summary, I am horrible at them. I hope you all enjoy and if you feel so inclined, review. They give me a happy. ; - )
Sunnydale, California 1994


It wasn’t like in the movies. No slate grey skies and drizzled raindrops. Neither whipping wind nor weeping trees.

Buffy Summers-Giles glanced up at the small gathering of people at the funeral of her parents. Most were in appropriate black attire with melancholy expressions. A few were crying, dabbing at the wayward tears running down their faces.

No, the sunny, happy California morning didn’t fit. The sun shouldn’t be smiling down at the cemetery and the birds shouldn’t be singing sweet spring songs. It should be dull and dreary. Just like the movies said it should be.

She hadn’t cried. Not when the police had come to her door and told her about the car accident. Not when she had packed her things to stay with Jenny Calendar, a friend of her stepfather. Not when she was asked to help pick the caskets that would be her parents’ final resting places. And certainly not now when everyone was scrutinizing her.

It didn’t even seem real, but she knew that the cold hard truth of it was that no one would ever be able to see her mother’s smiling face or her stepfather’s kind eyes again. Least of all her.

It was a closed casket ceremony since the accident had been so horrific. She hadn’t even been able to see them one last time. Jenny had been the one to identify them because they thought it would have been too hard on her. She hated that she wasn’t even allowed to say her last goodbyes face to face. She didn’t care what they looked like.

The eulogy was short and to the point and Buffy knew any minute they would start to lower the caskets into the ground. She stifled the urge to scream at the injustice of it all. She knew it was selfish but she wanted all of these people to leave her in peace so she could grieve alone. The idea that she had to share these last moments with people she hardly knew made her heart swell with pain.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Jenny giving her a comforting smile. It didn’t comfort her in the least, but she returned the smile anyway. Jenny had been so wonderful to her over the last few days. She didn’t have to do all that she had done, but did so without complaint.

Buffy imagined it must have been hard for her. After all, Jenny and Rupert had once been quite involved with each other only to have it end with Rupert marrying Joyce instead. But Jenny was a strong woman and Buffy admired her for that.

“Please bow your heads in prayer,” the minister said as he began to read from his Bible.

She was counting down the seconds. It would happen any moment and then she would have nothing left of them but their memories. There was a slight squeaking as the caskets began to lower into the ground.

They were gone. The reality of it slammed into her like a freight train. A bubble of sobbing burst out of her and finally she felt the tears that she had been holding onto for days pour out of her trembling body.

Jenny held onto her tightly as the cries took over her whole being. “It’ll be alright, Buffy. I promise. We’ll get through this.”

Buffy wanted so much to believe her, but she knew deep in her heart that things wouldn’t be alright. Her parents were gone and she was left with nothing except uncertainty.

People were starting to leave. Jenny nudged her to follow and a large part of her wanted to tell Jenny where to stick it. Why should she have to leave? She wasn’t ready to go yet. On the other hand, if she stayed, she’d probably never leave.

As they started towards the car, Buffy noticed someone that looked oddly familiar to her. He was dressed in a faded black suit that looked like it had seen better days. She guessed he was in his early twenties, but his blue eyes seemed to house a much older soul. His dark blond hair was combed back and slicked down, but a wayward curl fell against his temple.

Suddenly, he stopped walking and turned to look at her. He seemed to recognize her and made his way across the lawn to her.

“Are you Buffy?” He asked, a British accent heavily coated his words.

“Yes,” she replied. She knew him somehow, but she couldn’t place it.

He extended his hand to her. “I’m William. Perhaps my uncle mentioned me.”

Ah-ha! That’s right. Giles’ had showed her his picture once. “He showed me your picture,” she told him as she took his hand.

Smiling, William said, “and he showed me yours as well. That’s how I knew who you were.”

Buffy nodded, but couldn’t think of anything to say in response. As the silence stretched between them, she couldn’t help but thinking how it should be awkward that they were standing in the middle of a cemetery without anything to say to one another. But oddly enough, she felt nothing but a comfortable moment of closeness with him.

After a minute, he let go of her hand. “Well, I’m afraid I need to get going. I have a bus to catch.”

“Oh. So you won’t be coming to the wake then?” Buffy asked, frowning.

He shook his head, the sadness coming off of him in sickening waves. “No, I can’t. I have to get back to work. They didn’ give me much time.”

“Oh, okay. Well, it was nice to finally meet you even though the circumstances…” she trailed off. For a minute she had forgotten why they were having this conversation at all. “Well, bye.”

She turned from him, but before she could go any farther than a few steps, his voice stopped her.

“Buffy, you know if you ever need anything. Anything at all. You can come to me, right?”

A tear slipped down her cheek and she swiped it away. “Okay,” she said weakly.

He smiled at her. “Take care of yourself, luv.” And with that, he walked away.



******



Los Angeles, California 1997


“Elizabeth!” A voice bellowed.

Sighing, Buffy closed her scrapbook and set it in her nightstand drawer. She made her way downstairs to her father’s office. Lord only knew what she had done wrong now.

Hank Summers stood beside his large mahogany desk with a half-empty glass of Scotch in his hand. His features were twisted into grotesque frown and his eyes were glassy, a sure sign of how much he had been drinking.

“Elizabeth,” he spat out, “would you care to explain why I have to replace a $6000 oriental rug because there was nail polish spilled across it?”

She could hear the Jeopardy jingle in her head. How could she answer this without getting herself into more trouble? She had no idea how nail polish got spilled on his rug. Somehow this was being blamed on her which was quite funny since she didn’t even wear nail polish anymore.

“I don’t know, dad. Maybe Missy accidentally-”

“Oh, so now you think you are going to blame this on my wife?” He laughed humorlessly. “Right, try again, Elizabeth.”

She was in Hell. It was the only explanation for it. “But it wasn’t me. I don’t even wear-”

“Missy said this belonged to you. She doesn’t wear pink,” he told her, twisting the empty nail polish bottle in his hand.

“And you believe her?” Uh-oh, that was the wrong thing to say.

He threw the little bottle at the wall. “What? As opposed to believing you, you little liar!”

“I’m not a liar!” Buffy shouted at him. God, she was so sick of taking the fall for Missy and her precious daughter, Harmony. Why did he believe all of their lies? Buffy was his daughter, for Christ sakes!

Hank slammed down his glass on the desk and didn’t seem to notice it shattering as he stomped to her and slapped her across the cheekbone. “This is the thanks I get, huh! I take you in after your whore of a mother finally got what she deserved and went straight to Hell! I open my house to you and this is how you show your gratitude! I should have left you in Sunnydale,” he spat before shoving her.

Falling to the hardwood floor, Buffy felt the tears begin to well up behind her eyelids. Her hand went to her cheek and tried to hold in the throbbing pain that had exploded in her face after her father had hit her.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Fathers were supposed to be kind and helpful. They were supposed to take their kids to the park and ask them how their day was. They weren’t supposed to be abusive bastards that beat their daughters for something they didn’t even do.

Oh, Giles, I miss you, she thought. He was her real father as far as she was concerned not this asshole standing in front of her.

“You go up to your room and stay up there! Get out of my face!” He pointed to the door.

Buffy scrambled off the floor and raced up to her room, careful not to slam the door even though she desperately wanted to. That would have just set Hank off again and she didn’t need a black eye to go with her swollen cheek.

She had learned quickly what not to do in regards to her father. Don’t slam doors, don’t talk back or argue, don’t answer the phone or the door, don’t even exist. She was like a ghost now; sometimes she wouldn’t be seen for days. Of course, that hadn’t stopped her father or Missy from accusing her of doing something wrong.

She recalled the first time her father had hit her. It had only been two weeks since she had been sent to live with Hank and Missy and she had been called into his office, just like today. He had accused her of stealing twenty dollars from Missy’s purse and she had denied it. That time she had received a black eye.

Last year, she had tried running away. She had paid a kid at school to drive her to Sunnydale to stay with Jenny. But Jenny had called her father as soon as she had arrived and Hank had sent a driver to pick her up and bring her back.

At first she had been angry with Jenny, but Buffy soon realized that she was only doing what she thought was right. And when Jenny had called to see how she was doing, Buffy lied and told her everything was fine. Jenny wouldn’t have believed her if she had told the truth anyway.

Who would? Hank Summers was a pillar of the community, a lawyer who donated thousands to charity and posed with kids in the Cancer ward of the hospital. Of course, that was due to his wanting to run for office one day. A fact which made Buffy a liability to him. Broken homes did not go over well with the voting public, apparently.

She often wondered how far Hank would go to keep her a secret. After getting to know him over the past three years, she didn’t think there would be a distance he wouldn’t travel to make his dirty laundry go away.

God, she had to get out of this place! She was rotting away in the white marble Hell of the Summers’ mansion and she feared the future when Hank would lose his temper completely with her.

There was no way she would be able to defend herself either. She was five foot nothing and her weight had dwindled down to almost skin and bones. Her parents wouldn’t have wanted her to waste away like this. They would have wanted her to fight and be strong. What did she have to fear? It couldn’t get much worse.

Kneeling down beside her bed she rummaged through the boxes that she kept underneath it. A blue box marked with a big fuzzy bunny sticker held her parents’ address book and she quickly ripped off the lid to find it. Opening the cover, she began to scan the names of friends and relatives, hoping to find the one person that would help her.

She didn’t know his last name. It wasn’t Giles, she knew that. Giles’ sister had married so she wouldn’t have kept her maiden name.

It seemed like yesterday that he had held her hand and made her feel so safe with his reassuring smile and kind eyes. He had said ‘anything’, if she needed ‘anything’, she could come to him.

Of course, there was the possibility that he wouldn’t even remember her, that he would slam the door in her face. On top of that, what if he had moved? What if he had moved back to England or something?

Shaking her head of the doubts running through her mind, she continued to search for his name. She had to try, at least.

She sat back against her bed and set the book on the floor. Three Williams. One that lived in England, another in New York, and the last in Las Vegas. She couldn’t afford to travel abroad or cross country, so she would just have to take her chances in Las Vegas.

William Pratt, here I come, she thought with a sigh.
Chapter 2 by Jaesha
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It really made my day. To cordykitten: Spike/William was at the funeral, I used the term ‘wake’ very loosely. In this case, Buffy was speaking about the gathering after the funeral and William couldn’t stay for that.

Now on with the show!



A week later…


The mundane chatter that bounced around the breakfast table had Buffy wishing she would go permanently deaf.

“And then I told Mrs. Howard that there was no way I was sticking my finger into some dead reptile. Eww!” Harmony screeched as she pushed her bacon around her china plate.

Amphibian, you airhead, Buffy thought, taking a sip of her orange juice. She didn’t know why she had to eat with her father and the evil step twins anyway. They never addressed her or asked her how she was doing in school. She might as well have been invisible for all the times she had been spoken to at the table. Or at any other time, come to think of it.

“I can’t believe they would make you do something like that. Surely we could get Mrs. Howard to give you a pass on your biology exam. Couldn’t we, Hank?” Missy turned to her husband, who was currently paying even less attention to them than Buffy was.

“Hank? Did you hear me?”

Hank folded his copy of the LA Times and set it next to his plate. “Yes, Missy, I heard you. I know Bob on the school board. I’ll give him a call. How’s that?”

Missy beamed and turned back to her daughter. “See, no problem.”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy set her fork down. “May I be excused?”

She waited for a response, but after a minute or so no one answered her. Pushing back her chair, she started to move away from the table.

“Where are you going, Elizabeth?” Her father’s stern voice made her stop dead in her tracks.

“Um, I’m finished. I was going to go back upstairs,” she replied softly.

“Did you ask to be excused? I don’t remember hearing it.” They were all glaring at her now like she had interrupted something really important by leaving the table quietly.

Buffy chewed on her lower lip. This was one of those times when nothing she could say would keep her from getting yelled at. Again. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever, Elizabeth. You must have learned your manners from a barn animal,” Missy said with a contemptible expression marring her newly Botoxed face.

“Yeah, ‘Lizbeth, like a big fat cow,” Harmony added.

Missy and Harmony didn’t bother her much. Sure, they said horrible things to her and made her life a living Hell, but on most days she was pretty adept at ignoring their cruelness. They were too ignorant to know better, she figured.

Her father, though, was a horse of a completely different color. All of the verbal abuse and physical attacks cut her to the bone. How does someone hate their own child so much? So much that they would have preferred for that child to have never been born at all.

“Just go away, Elizabeth. I don’t want to deal with your sulking today,” Hank told her before picking his paper back up and ignoring her again.

Taking that as her cue to leave, Buffy left the dining room and made a beeline for the stairs. She felt like she couldn’t get away from them quick enough. She always felt like that.

Shutting her door, she moved to the small desk in the corner of her room and sat down.

Everything was going as planned and for the first time since her failed attempt to run to Sunnydale, she felt like she might actually pull off her escape. She had bought the bus ticket three days ago and had already packed what she needed. The only thing left to do was to get out of the house tomorrow without anyone knowing.

That part was going to be tricky. Her bus left at five o’clock in the evening which only left her an hour and a half to get all of her stuff and get to the station. School let out at three-thirty and her father usually came home early on Mondays which made her window of escape even smaller.

She thumbed through the address book for the millionth time, finding his name in blue ink written in her mother’s perfect handwriting. The doubts started coming to the surface again, but this time she couldn’t will them away.

What if he didn’t believe her? He could call her father just like Jenny had and she would be back where she started, probably worse off if history was to repeat itself. The possibilities of rejection were endless in her mind and the harder she tried to banish them from her thoughts the worse the scenarios were becoming.

She had debated whether or not to call first, but she knew her chances were better if she explained things face to face. It was easy to put things out of your mind if they weren’t right in front of your eyes.

Sighing, she closed the book and moved to pack it in the black duffel bag she had chosen to use. It was large enough to fit all of her clothes and necessities, but not so big that she couldn’t carry it around easily. She decided that it would be better to pack light anyway. That way if she had to run again, she wouldn’t have too much stuff to lug around.

And she would run until it killed her. There was no way she would ever let Hank touch her again. That was a promise.


******



Monday flew by. All the while, Buffy’s mind was preoccupied with the intricate plans of her escape.

Right now, she was running with Plan A, which if all went well would see her through to Las Vegas. She also had Plans B through F, although, she wasn’t quite sure F would work since it depended on some superhero in a cape to come save her.

The bell rung for dismissal and she sprinted out of the classroom. The driver that usually picked Harmony and her up from school was normally there early and she prayed that today he was on schedule. There had been a few times he had been kept by traffic and that was an obstacle she did not need.

Running out the front doors, she spied the shiny black Lexus sitting next to the curb awaiting its passengers.

“Thank God!” She breathed out in relief. She made her way to the car and opened the door then jumped inside.

“Good afternoon, Miss Elizabeth,” the driver said with a smile. Frank was a pretty nice guy. He always had a smile for her and never treated her like the red-headed stepchild that some of the other staff did.

“Hey, Frank. Was traffic bad today?”

He scrunched up his nose, “nah, it was pretty smooth. Why? You got some hot date tonight you gotta get ready for?”

“Yeah, right, Frank,” she snorted out.

He chuckled a little. “Well, as soon as Miss Priss gets here, we’ll be on our way.”

Speaking of Harmony, where the Hell was she? Buffy peered out the darkly tinted windows. Scanning the front of the school, she spotted her gabbing it up with a group of senior boys.

What is taking her so long? How long could a conversation with Harmony actually last? It’s not like she had that much to say beyond the latest Gucci handbag and Orlando Bloom’s new movie.

“Can’t we just leave her, Frank?” Buffy asked desperately.

“If only I could, sweetheart. But the bossman would be none to happy if I ditched her.”

Crap! She reached for the door and hauled herself out of the car. Marching over to the group, she tapped Harmony on the shoulder.

Harmony whipped around to face her. “What! Geez, get away from me and don’t ever touch me again.”

“Harmony, we really need to get going,” Buffy told her.

“Whatever. I’ll leave when I’m good and ready to. You’ll just have to wait.” Harmony turned away from her and proceeded to finish whatever ridiculous point she had been trying to make.

“Harmo-”

“Get away from me!” Harmony screamed at her.

Taking a deep breath and setting her jaw in determination, Buffy grabbed Harmony’s wrist and yanked her away from the boys. She pulled the struggling girl down the grassy hill towards the parking lot.

“Let go of me, bitch!”

Buffy’s grip never faltered as she finally pushed Harmony into the car. Frank must have gotten the hint because as soon as Buffy shut the door, he put the car in drive and sped off.

She dodged Harmony’s lame attempt to hit her and slapped her across the face.

A hand to her cheek, Harmony squeaked out, “you’ll be sorry when I tell Daddy.”

Later, she would recognize this as the point where she had no restraint left to keep in the words that she had been swallowing down like bad medicine for years.

“He’s not your Daddy,” she spat out. “Your daddy left you for a better family and you had to steal someone else’s. Kid yourself all you want, Harmony, but he will never be your father.”


******



They made it back to the mansion in record time and Buffy wasted no time getting herself into the house and up to her room.

She had left Harmony sobbing in the back seat, but she didn’t care. Her only thoughts were reserved for the task at hand and she made quick work of gathering her things. The transit bus would be arriving in fifteen minutes to take her to the Greyhound station and if she didn’t hurry she would miss both.

Slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder, she practically flew down the stairs. She had almost a mile to run to get to the bus stop and she couldn’t afford any haste. As much as she had wanted to say goodbye to Frank and to thank him, she couldn’t spare another second.

She ran down the long drive and out the gate. The unfortunate thing about living in such a posh neighborhood was that the transit system was relegated to the outer edges of the small community.

Her breath started coming in short pants as she pushed her legs to run faster down the sidewalk.

The stop was coming into view and she knew she was going to make it. There was a small gathering of people waiting for the incoming bus and they didn’t seem to take notice of her as her feet slammed against the pavement in an attempt to get there just those few moments quicker.

The bus rounded the corner and freedom loomed towards her. She could feel it. It was so tangible she could almost touch it.

And then her heart sank.

Her father’s blue BMW was racing to get past the bus before he got stuck behind it. There was no way he would miss her.

Swallowing back the panic, she kept running. Only a few hundred feet more and she would be that much closer to escaping her father’s malicious hold on her.

She knew the moment that Hank recognized her. The BMW came to a screeching halt as his tires slid across the blacktop.

The bus was loading and she was almost there. The smell of diesel and rubber greeted her nose like it was the sweetest thing she had ever smelled.

“Elizabeth!”

Not sparing him a glance, she put her hand out to grasp the side of the bus so she could pull herself to safety. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father tearing out after her and it only made her move quicker.

She stepped onto the bus and fumbled with her duffel bag to get her money out.

“Elizabeth! Get back here!” Hank yelled, getting closer to reaching her with every angry step. “Get off of that bus, now!”

Buffy looked to the driver with fearful eyes, hoping that she would hear her silent plea. She continued to dig for her money, but wasn’t making much progress when she heard a loud thump against the bus. Oh, God, she thought, this is it.

“Elizabe-”

SQUEEEEK!

Buffy turned around to see the bus doors shutting on her father just before he could get to her. He pounded on the Plexiglas door with furious determination. The bus driver put the huge vehicle into gear and moved away from the curb. Hank continued to try and gain access as the bus shoved along.

Finally grasping her wallet, Buffy quickly fed the money to the automatic payment machine. She glanced at the driver and felt her dry eyes moisten with tears.

“Thank you. Thank you,” Buffy told the woman, who returned with a warm smile.

“Us girls gotta stick together, right? Now go take a seat, sugar.”

Buffy nodded and thanked her again before moving to the back of the bus and sitting down. Staring out the dirty window, she could make out the distant form of Hank Summers taking his frustration out on his car.

“Goodbye.”
Chapter 3 by Jaesha
A/N: Wow! A thanks to all of my reviewers. You guys rock!

A quick note on Hank. Yes, I must agree with everyone. He is a right bastard and unfortunately, will be making another appearance later in the story. But that’s all I’m going to say. ;- )





The desert blurred together as the bus sped along the highway to its final destination. Red and pinky-orange streamers fanned across the afternoon sky as the sun began a slow descent into the surrounding mountains.

Buffy stared out the window from her seat and tried to calm herself. The adrenaline was still coursing throughout her body, her hands still shaky and her breathing erratic.

She had arrived at the bus depot with only minutes to spare. A fact that eased her worried mind. The sooner they got on their way the less chance she would have of being caught up to by her father.

But even now that they were well on their way, she couldn’t steady herself. She had been scared before, but now that she had time to really think about what she had done, she was truly terrified.

Hank Summers was a powerful man in Los Angeles. As a partner in the law firm of Wolfram and Hart, he had every connection at his disposal. Law enforcement, politicians, and even some very dangerous, yet influential criminals were all on Wolfram and Hart’s payroll. It wouldn’t take much to track her down.

God, what am I getting myself into, she thought, rubbing cold hands over her bare arms. And not only what she was getting herself into, but what about William? She couldn’t drag him into the mess she had created.

It was then that she made up her mind. She wouldn’t stay in Las Vegas. Instead, she would ask William if she could stay for the night and be on her way. Surely he would consent to one night.

Sighing, she felt herself start to harden. The fear dissipated and she was left with nothing but determination. She could be strong. She had to be.


******



The bright lights of Las Vegas woke her. She looked down at her watch. It was almost eleven o’clock.

She stretched her arms above her and twisted her shoulders from side to side. The hours sitting stationary in her seat had made her muscles stiff and a little numb. She couldn’t wait to get off the bus so she could have a proper stretch.

As the bus depot came into view, Buffy readied herself to make a quick exit.

“Are you visiting family, dear?”

Buffy snapped her head towards the occupant of the seat next to her, an older lady with an ‘I Love Vegas’ sweatshirt and bright pink fanny pack. “Um, yeah. How did you know that?”

The woman chuckled. “Well, you’re a little young for the more sinful wonders Vegas has to offer.”

Offering a slight smile, Buffy hoped that the lady wouldn’t try and continue the conversation. The less people she interacted with, the better off she would be. She was only sixteen and that made the world a very dangerous place for her to be in.

Not that she was worried about the elderly woman next to her, but she couldn’t afford too many questions. If anyone decided to try and be helpful, she could be in big trouble. Social Services was almost as scary a prospect as going back to her father’s. Neither sounded very appealing.

The bus began to unload and Buffy dashed down the aisle. Her bag was almost the last thing to be loaded so it would be one of the first things to come off. She collected her duffel and wandered towards the main terminal building where she hoped she could find a cab.

Stopping at a bench, she sat down and went into her bag to find her wallet and William’s address. She glanced around, making sure no one was too close to her while she counted her remaining money. Her mother had left her a modest sum after her death, but it had been put into a savings account that she couldn’t draw from until she turned eighteen. All she had now was what she had saved up from birthday cards and well-wishers from the funeral.

At the time, she had been more than a little offended at the idea that people would throw money at her in place of a simple spoken condolence, but now she was glad she hadn’t refused it.

Three hundred sixty-two dollars and some odd cents was all she had to run with. And now she was going to use some of that to grab a cab.

There were cabs sitting out in front of the terminal with shady looking drivers at the helm. Most of them had some pouring out of their open windows and Buffy glanced down the row of them to find one that was a little more non-smoker friendly.

Buffy bent down a little so she could speak to the driver. “Hi, could you give me a ride to 560 Blakely Way?”

“Sure, doll. Get in,” the driver said, switching off his available light and fiddling with the meter.

After Buffy was situated, the cabbie took off in a mad rush almost hitting another taxi.

“Sorry about that,” the cabbie told her with a sheepish grin.

She had heard that taking a cab in Las Vegas was hazardous to her health. The more time she spent in the cab, the truer that became. They dodged pedestrians and other cars, ran red lights, and almost got hit by a semi-truck. All the while, the cabbie didn’t seem to take much notice of all the mayhem he was causing.

They pulled onto a darkened street that was lined with apartment buildings. It didn’t look like the nicest of neighborhoods, but then again, she couldn’t see anything too clearly.

“Well, here you go, sweetheart. That’ll be $36.27.”

Buffy handed him some money and thanked him before the cab sped off into the night.

Making her way up the walk, she pulled the address to double check the apartment number. 6C. She climbed the cement steps and stopped in front of the door.

She took a deep breath, then raised her fist to the door and knocked loudly. She waited a minute or so before knocking again.

Footsteps and voices came from behind the door and Buffy braced herself.

A man with shaggy brown hair answered the door. “Can I help you?”

Uh-oh. Was this the wrong William? Maybe it was his roommate. “I-I’m looking for William Pratt.”

Smiling, the man shook his head. “You’ve got the wrong apartment. He lives across the way there.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. Thank you.” She turned to go to the other door, but was stopped by the man’s voice.

“But he’s not home. He works nights.”

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

The man shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Sometimes he doesn’t come home at all.”

“Oh.”

“Xander! Who’s at the door?” A woman yelled from deep inside the apartment.

“Just someone looking for Spike, An.” Spike?

“Well, tell them they’ve got the wrong apartment and come back to bed! I’m not finished yet!”

“Look, I gotta go,” Xander told her, moving to close his door.

“Hey, do you know where he works?”

“Yeah, he bartends over at The Blue Temple off the strip,” he replied, before disappearing behind the sturdy wood of the door.

There weren’t any cabs around and didn’t have a phone so there was only one thing she could do. She started out towards the brilliant glow of the strip.

******



Considering what a large city it was, Las Vegas seemed pretty calm. Well, that is until she hit the strip. The sidewalks were packed with people and the traffic was heavy. Everyone seemed to be taking their time moving from casino to casino, but Buffy definitely felt like she couldn’t keep up with the pace.

It had taken her almost an hour to get to the outer edges of the strip, but she made it there in one piece. Now all she had to do was to find the club where William worked and she would be right as rain.

A casino worker in a lobster costume who was handing out free 2 for 1 Buffet coupons was kind enough to give her directions to The Blue Temple and she set off to find it.

The Blue Temple was nestled between two huge casinos, hidden in the dark alleyway separating them. There was a long line of people trying to get inside the plain-looking building and the bouncer was standing stone-faced in front of the entrance.

Buffy walked up the bouncer. “Excuse me. I’m looking for someone. I think he works here.”

The bouncer rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not letting you in so you might as well turn your cute underage ass right around and go back the way you came.”

“I’m not trying to get in. I’m trying to find someone who works here. William Pratt,” she replied, folding her arms over her chest.

“Don’t know him. Now scram.”

Buffy clenched her jaw. She was tired and sore and all she wanted to do was sleep. It didn’t matter if it was a nice soft bed or a hard floor with a lumpy pillow, she wanted- no, needed sleep. Now!

“Hey, look buddy, I need to find William and I’m not leaving until I’m allowed to speak with him.” There! Take that, stupid bouncer-guy with no neck, she thought smugly.

The bouncer did not look amused. Nor did he look the least bit intimidated by the petite blond girl in front of him. He looked like he was about ready to flick her away with his huge ring-less fingers.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. There ain’t no William that works here.”

“He does, I swear,” she replied, confident that her information was correct.

The bouncer shrugged. “Look, I can’t let you in and I can’t leave the door. So you can either go home- which is where you should be going, little girl- or you can wait for this William character to get off his shift. It’s your choice.”

It wasn’t really a choice. She wasn’t going to leave after she had just walked miles to get there not that she had anywhere to go anyway. “Fine. I’ll wait.”

“Suit yourself.”

Buffy noticed a wooden crate resting against the dirty brick wall of the alley and decided to settle herself in for the long haul. She had no idea when William’s shift ended, it could be several more hours.

She felt safe enough with the bouncer thirty feet away so she figured she could rest a little. More of a one eye open, one eye shut kind of a deal, but rest nonetheless. She pulled the zip-up hoody she had pulled out of her bag on the walk over tighter around her body and felt the sleep tugging at her consciousness.

Just for a few minutes, she thought before falling right to sleep.


******


Buffy felt her body being jostled, a large hand grasping her shoulder. Her eyes burst open when she finally shook the grogginess away enough to realize where she was. She moved to push whoever was trying to wake her away, but all she met with was air.

“Hey, its okay. Calm down,” a man’s voice told her.

She tensed but didn’t make any further attempt to shove him away. Her eyes started to focus and she looked up at him.

“Hey, William.”


*****



A/N: Yeah, I know. I’m evil. ^_^
Chapter 4 by Jaesha
The music blared from every eighteen-inch speaker in the joint. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very good music. Bloody Spice Girls.

Spike pulled a bottle of Grand Mariner from the shelf and poured the liquid into a silver shaker. He continued to add ingredients, Patron Silver, sour mix, lime juice, and then ice to the shaker. Capping the lid, he started shaking, spinning the shaker against his palm until the metal was frosted over. The liquor was poured into a blue margarita glass and set gently in front of the customer.

She was a looker too. Flame red hair that was pulled loosely into a ponytail, her bangs fringing over green eyes. She had on this tight little red number that hugged her curves in all the right places with heels that made her legs look like they went all the way up.

“There ya go, sweets. It’ll be $12.50,” Spike told her as he turned his attention to cleaning up his mess, waiting for her to dig out her money.

“What? You mean, you aren’t going to buy the lady’s first round?” She batted her eye lashes at him and pouted.

Well, there goes my tip, he thought as he leaned into the bar. “Sorry. Can’t do that. House rules.”

It was true. There was nothing he’d like more than to buy her a drink and maybe take her for a spin later, but there was a strict ‘no freebie’ rule in The Blue Temple. If they wanted a free drink they could go plunk a few dollars into the machines at one of the casinos instead of paying the ten dollar cover to get into the club.

“Yeah, right. If you weren’t interested, why didn’t you just say so?” Slamming down exactly twelve-fifty on the bar, she snatched her drink and stomped off to find another sucker.

It was a shitty night. There was never any money on Mondays and to top off the crappy business, all of the patrons tonight seemed to have something stuck right where the sun didn’t shine. Well, mostly where the sun didn’t shine. It was Las Vegas, after all.

He rinsed the shaker out and set it on a rubber pad to dry. Glancing at his watch, he surmised that the boss lady would be letting him go soon. It was almost two and the crowd was dying down. He had seniority over the other seven bartenders that worked there, so she usually gave him first choice.

“You’re gonna leave early, aren’t you?” Charles Gunn asked him as he came to stand next to Spike.

Spike nodded. “Y’ know I bloody well am, so why even ask?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I thought Hell would freeze over and you might give me a break so I can try and finish my paper that’s due tomorrow.” Gunn was studying at UNLV. Had some crazy notion about being a lawyer, too.

“Well, mate, I guess you should’ve thought ‘bout that before you decided to switch shifts with Captain Forehead. You know he only wanted the night off to get laid, right?” Spike smirked at the younger man.

Gunn grimaced, and then turned his pleading eyes on the Brit. “Please, Spike. I really need to do well on this paper. I’m already close to failing.”

As much as he liked the reputation of being the biggest badass in the whole club, he did have a soft side. Not that he’d let anyone else know that. Truth be told, he liked Gunn. He was a good guy and he’d done his fair share of favors for everyone including Spike.

“Fine. Take it. But you owe me, Charlie-boy.”

“Thanks! Really, thanks!” Gunn squeezed Spike’s shoulder before running off, no doubt to tell Cordelia.

Seeing a group of barely-legal girls bounce up to the bar, he quickly turned his back and started polishing martini glasses. Let the other bartenders handle it; he was done with the inane chitter-chatter of giggly little girls for the night.

He couldn’t help but thinking they shouldn’t be so bubbly. But what did they know about life at their age? Most of them wouldn’t know the real world if it turned and spit into their Appletini. He'd never had that. The real world was all he had seemed to know even as a small boy.

It was rough having to grow up so fast, but it wasn’t as if he was given a choice in the matter.

“So, what’s this I hear about giving up your precious early out?” A voice said from behind him.

Cordelia Chase was not only the owner of The Blue Temple; she was the heart and soul of the entire operation. Most people that met Cordelia made the quick assumption that she was a hard-assed bitch of gigantic proportions and they would be right if they didn’t bother to get to know the real woman behind the snarky comments and cold glares.

Four years ago when he had first started working for her, he would have believed the worst of her. Truth was she treated him like dirt in the beginning. She treated them all like dirt in the beginning. Now that he was a little older and a little wiser, he recognized it was nothing but a brilliant plan to weed out the guys who couldn’t take the pressure. And it worked.

He and Angel had been there the longest out of the remaining personnel. They had seen people come and go over the several years they had worked there. It was a wonder that Cordelia got anybody to work for her since her standards seemed Everest-high. But they had a good crew thanks to her unwillingness to keep anybody who worked at anything less that 100%.

“Yeah, what can I say,” he grinned, his hand sliding down the front of his black shirt, “I’m just nice like that.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Mr. Nice. I don’t buy it.”

Ah, yes, he was still the Big Bad.

Shrugging, he moved to wipe the bar down. “Let ‘im have it.”

“Fine.” Cordelia didn’t press for any more explanation. ‘Cause honestly, she didn’t care.

She turned to walk away, but stopped and turned on her heel. “Do me a favor and tell Luke we’ll shut it at three. Its dead and I’m burning cash. We’re not pulling the hourly counts like we should be.”

“What’s wrong with the walkies?”

She smirked. “Nothing, but if I’m paying you to be here, you’ll do more than just wipe down glasses all night.”

He mock-saluted her as she sauntered off.

Exiting the bar area, he made his way through the throng of sweaty, alcohol-soaked people dancing to some song about riding ponies or someone’s pony, rather. He felt someone pinch his ass and he glanced back to see the redhead from earlier giving him a saucy smile. That margarita he had made her must have been good if she didn’t remember that he was the bartender that had ‘dissed’ her earlier.

The corridor to the front entrance was like a maze with blue neon lights running on the ceiling and along the floors. He followed it until he found the door.

Luke had only been working at The Blue Temple for two weeks and in that time he had managed to piss of everyone he had come into contact with. The problem with the guy was that he just had no social skills, not that that was really important when escorting people out or denying their entrance, but something other than grunting might be helpful when trying to communicate with others.

“Cordelia says to shut it at three,” Spike told him.

His brow furrowed like he was confused. “But, there are still people waiting to get in.”

“Yeah,” Spike replied slowly, “what’s your point?”

“Well…”

Squinting his eyes, he looked over at the wall, trying to make out the figure that was slumped over against the bricks. “Who’s that?”

Luke threw up his hands excitedly. “Some chick. I told her she couldn’t come in. She said she was looking for someone. Uh, Walter? No, William. And I tried to tell her I’d never heard of the guy, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer, so she just kinda settled herself in.”

“I’m William, you berk!” Spike jumped over the rope and stepped over to her.

Bloody hell! He thought she looked familiar. She was older now, but time hadn’t changed her unique features only matured them.

“Buffy,” he whispered, kneeling down so he was face to face with her.

He hadn’t seen her in three years, not since the funeral. Part of him berated himself for not keeping in touch with her, but after he had heard her father had gained custody of her, he figured she was in good hands. That still didn’t make it right, though. He should have been there for her and he hadn’t.

Brushing a strand of long golden brown hair out of her face, he called her name again hoping to wake her.

God, what was she doing here? By his calculations, she was what? Sixteen? What on Earth was she doing here alone in Las Vegas and obviously looking for him?

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he shook her softly. “Come on, pet. Wake up.”

All of the sudden she jerked away from him, her eyes wide. She moved to shove him away from her, but she was still slow from sleep and he quickly dodged her.

“Hey, its okay. Calm down,” he told her.

Her body tensed, her shoulders straightening as she blinked, trying to clear the fuzziness from her eyes. As soon as she seemed to focus, she smiled slightly.

“Hey, William.”

“Hey there, luv.” He flashed his pearly whites before getting down to the nitty-gritty. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but what are you doing here?”

She frowned, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. “Well, I was just passing through and I thought I could visit you for a day or two before I had to leave.”

Yeeaaah, right. He believed that about as much as he believed in the Single Bullet Theory. She was lying and not very convincingly. Question was would he be able to get the truth out of her?

Standing up, he offered her his hand. She took it and let him pull her to her feet.

“C’mon, “ he said as he led her to the entrance of the club. “Just let me tell my boss that I have to leave and we can get outta here, okay?”

“Hey, she can’t go in!” Luke tried blocking the door. “She’s underage, Spike.”

Letting go of Buffy’s hand, he stepped up to Luke so they were standing nose to nose, their chests bumping. “You wanna try and stop me.”

Spike was only about 5 foot 9 with a slim build, but with the way Luke suddenly backed down, you would have thought him the biggest S.O.B. on the block. His big bad persona was not all contrived and Spike would have dared anyone get in his way.

“But-”

“But nothing’. She’s with me and you need t’ get the bleeding hell out of my way before I run your ass over.”

Grabbing Buffy’s hand again, he pushed Luke out of the way and started off to find Cordelia.

Her hand was cold and he wondered how long she had been sitting outside waiting for him. Tomorrow he would tell Cordelia to fire the wanker. Who leaves a sixteen year old girl sleeping in front of a night club? Luke, apparently. But that would never happen again, not if he had any say in the matter.

Cordelia was in her office doing paperwork when he found her. She looked up her eyebrows rose in silent question when she saw Buffy standing next to him.

“Cordelia, I can’t stay. Something’s come up and I have to go.”

Setting down her pen, she replied, “okay. Is everything alright, Spike?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just can’t stay.” He motioned to Buffy with a nod of his head, hoping Cordelia would get the hint.

“Sure, Spike. I guess I’ll see you on Thursday then.” Oh, she wanted answers, he could tell. Cordelia wasn’t the type to be left in the dark even when the information was none of her business. The tone of her voice said that she was concerned, but her eyes held more than just worry.

“Thanks,” he said before pulling Buffy out of the office and towards the back entrance to the building where his motorcycle was parked.

“Is this your bike?” Buffy’s eyes were wide with uncertainty.

“Yeah.” He pulled a black half shell style helmet out of the small compartment on the rear of the bike and handed it to her. “Here, pet, put this on.”

She took the helmet and examined it for a moment before fitting it onto her small head. After fiddling with the chin strap for a second, she fastened it and hopped on the bike behind Spike. He started the bike up, then reached around behind him to grab her arms.

“Hold on tight, luv. It might be a little bumpy.”




A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed this latest chapter. I’ll admit I had the hardest time with Chapter 3, so this one was a breeze compared to that one. I appreciate everyone taking the time to review, it really is great to get the feedback.

The drink Spike makes in this is called a Cadillac Margarita- very good. ; -)
Chapter 5 by Jaesha
A/N: Many apologies for not updating sooner. Last night I had a nice, brand-spankin’ new chapter for your reading pleasure and as I was editing one last time, Microsoft decided it had had enough of my rambling and shut the program down. Effectively deleting: Every. Single. Word.

From now on, I will be utilizing the save button much more so that this never happens again. Enjoy ; -D





Sunnydale, 1992


“Buffy, dear?”

“Yeah, Giles?” Buffy turned the television off when she heard her stepfather’s voice calling for her from the dining room.

“Your mother got the pictures back from our trip. I thought you might like to look at them with me,” Giles replied, a warm smile on his face.

Buffy sat down in a chair next to him and propped her chin up with her elbow. “Sounds good. What’dya got?”

He made a big show of taking the 4 X 6 photos out of their envelope, waving them around like they were the newest best thing ever.

“Let’s see here. This one is of…” he trailed off as he squinted to see what was in the photo. “I suppose I’ll need my glasses then. Don’t ever get old, Buffy, then you’ll be as blind as old Giles here.”

Giggling, she shook her head. “You’re not old, Giles. Well, not that old, anyways.”

Reaching over, he pinched her nose lightly in a teasing gesture.

“Okay, this one is of… the plane? Bloody hell, who took that? It must have been your mother. I swear she is the only person on the planet who finds planes and airports as fascinating as the Grand Canyon.” He chuckled a bit before moving onto the next picture.

Buffy remembered when she had first met Rupert Giles. It certainly hadn’t been all warm and fuzzy between them. She had instantly resented him for trying to take her mother’s attention away from her, like the boyfriends before him had done.

But no matter how hard she had tried to push him away, he just kept coming. Unlike her mother’s previous beaus, though, Giles seemed to genuinely want to get to know her and to spend just as much time with her as he did her mother.

Over the months, she couldn’t help but to open up her heart to him. She wanted desperately to have some sort of father figure in her life and at some point she realized that she could depend on Giles to be that person.

“Ah, yes.”

Her attention turned to the photo his was looking at. Her mother and Giles were standing on either side of a young man, their arms resting on each other’s shoulders. They were all grinning widely as if they were all sharing some sort of secret that no one else knew.

“This is my nephew, William. We stayed with him in London for a few days,” Giles told her.

“I didn’t know you had a nephew.” Buffy took the picture from him and studied it.

Gile’s nephew is cute, was her first thought. He wore small, silver-framed glasses that seemed to magnify his bright blue eyes. Dark blonde curls framed his face which had high cheekbones and a straight nose.

He nodded. “Yes, he is my sister, Anne’s boy. He is really the only family I’ve got now besides you and Joyce.”

Frowning, she set the picture down. “What about your sister?”

“She passed a few years ago,” he replied, his voice taking on a sad tone. “I have some distant relatives, but no one I would be jumping to go see.”

He lifted an arm to place around her and gave her a solid squeeze. “Hopefully, he will be able to come out a visit us soon. He is studying his last term at Oxford now.”

“Wow, he must be really smart,” Buffy said, looking at the photo again.

“Yes, he is a very bright young man. I had hoped to bring him with me to America after his mother’s death, but now I’m glad he’d made the decision to stay.”



******



Las Vegas, 1997


Buffy watched William move about the apartment, setting his keys on the table beside the door and turning on lamps that made the room glow brightly.

The ride over to his apartment had only taken minutes and after he had placed the bike in a storage behind the building, they’d made their way up familiar cement steps to apartment 6D.

He hadn’t said a word since they had left The Blue Temple and she was starting to worry that he was angry with her for coming.

Exiting the kitchen, she noticed he had a glass of water in his hand and he held it out to her when he reached the couch. “’ere, luv. Drink this and then you can explain why you’ve come all the way to Las Vegas.”

Frowning, she took the glass and gulped down half of its contents. He didn’t sound happy. Not happy at all.

He was sitting across from her on the soft black leather couch, his body turned to face her. A hand was perched on his hip as he waited for her to explain herself.

“I really am just passing through. I was kinda hoping that I could crash here for the night, you know, instead of getting a room,” she told him, the guilt washing over her for openly lying to him.

Well, it isn’t really lying. I am just passing through and I would have to get a room if he decides to kick me out, she reasoned.

His expression told her that he wasn’t buying the story. “Somehow, ‘m finding it very difficult t’ believe that.”

She didn’t believe her either. It was true that she was a horrible liar which was one of the reasons she found her father’s accusations of lying so ridiculous. If she had been lying to him, it would have been made painfully obvious by her lack of talent in that venue.

“So, why do they call you Spike?” She decided that instead of trying to convince him, it would be best for her to switch gears and change the subject.

His blue eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his chest. “That is not a story for young girls such as yourself, pet. Maybe when you’re a little older…”

“So, can I stay here or what?” She set the glass on the dark cherry coffee table and waited for him to tell her no.

Instead of saying anything, though, he stood up and left the room.

“Okay, that was kinda rude,” she muttered under her breath.

While she was debating whether or not to wait for him, he came back into the living room.

“I made up the bed for you. You can sleep in my room tonight and I’ll take the couch,” he told her, snatching up her glass and taking it to the kitchen. “The bathroom is down the hall if you want t’ wash up before you go t’ bed.”

Picking up her duffel bag from where she had dropped it earlier, she wandered down the hall to the door at the end. Flicking the light switch on, she set her stuff down and tried to decide if she wanted to jump in the shower. The bus had been grubby at best and sitting on it for five and a half hours, she was sure some of the grime had rubbed off on her.

She stripped her clothes off and fiddled with the faucets of the shower before reaching an acceptable temperature. The water sluiced over her cold and tired body, washing away all of the dirt and worry she’d been carrying all day.

Her thoughts turned to William. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man who had so captured her before. The gentleness that he given her at the funeral seemed to be gone being replaced by a hardened attitude.

They hadn’t discussed if she would be staying the next day, but she already knew she wouldn’t be. If his previous reaction was any indication about how he felt she could confidently say he would not be put out by her leaving.

Sighing, she stepped out of the shower and dried herself off with a plush black towel. Her teeth were brushed, her hair combed through, and her pajamas put on before she cleaned up her mess and left the bathroom.

The couch had already been made up and William was stretched across its length. He’d changed his clothes to a soft white t-shirt and faded black sweats.

“I really appreciate you letting me crash here,” she said to him before turning towards the bedroom.

“No problem,” he replied.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, pet?”

She twisted her body to look back at him. “Yes?”

Sitting up, he folded one knee to bridge over the other and rested his arm on top. “I really hope that you can find it in yourself t’ tell me the truth in morning ‘cause I can’t really say I appreciate being lied to.”


******



Spike watched her sleepy hazel eyes widen for a moment before she disappeared into the bedroom.

He’d had some time to cool off his raging anger and now he could begin processing the recent events. Truth of it was that he wasn’t really angry at her or even at her lying. There must be some reason she felt the need to throw him some bogus excuse and until he found out why she wouldn’t be leaving.

Rubbing a hand through his platinum blond hair, he realized that the real person he was angry at was himself. His uncle had once made him promise that if anything had happened to him that he would take care of Buffy and Joyce. He failed and the guilt was killing him, had been for some time now.

Sure, he had convinced himself that she was okay living with her father, but deep down he knew that he still should have been there for her. And now there was reason to believe that her life hadn’t been all peaches and cream with daddy dearest and he’d let it happen.

He wasn’t sure how to get through to her. Obviously playing the concerned adult role wasn’t going to work with her. What ever she was hiding, she didn’t want to say. But why? How bad could it possibly be?

Flipping on the television, he tried to clear his mind. This would take some tact which he historically was quite short on. He was the speak-first-think-later type and that usually got him in trouble.

He didn’t want trouble with her. All he wanted was to help her, it’s what he’d promised her and damned if he was going to back down from that.

She had grown too much in the three years since he’d seen her. He recognized it from his own personal experiences and his heart ached for her. Quite frankly, it sucked not to be able to enjoy your childhood and he knew first hand.

Whether she was aware of it now or not, she was already looking like an adult. What ever it was that she’d gone through was wearing heavily on her physically and even the way she carried herself was much too mature for a sixteen year old girl.

BBC America was running a marathon of Month Python and he settled himself in to watch some of it before he fell asleep. It was three o’clock and it was still too early for him to sleep. He was used to not getting in until after dawn.

After he got things straightened out with Buffy, he’d have to get in touch with Cordelia. They had some serious things to discuss and not all of it revolved around that idiot Luke.

It was possible that Buffy would be staying with him indefinitely and some changes had to be made to better suit a new routine.

He just hoped he wouldn’t have to fight Buffy all the way through it.
Chapter 6 by Jaesha
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and sympathy for my lost, dead Chapter 5.




Cracking the door open, Buffy peered out, her eyes falling immediately to William’s sleeping form.

She had slept longer than she would’ve liked, but since William wasn’t awake yet it didn’t really matter. As long as she got out of the apartment and to the bus station she would be fine.

With her duffel bag hefted over her shoulder she tiptoed out of the room and made a quick shuffle to the front door. She started opening the locks hoping they wouldn’t make too much sound.

Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, she jerked her head to the couch and found William missing.

“Going somewhere, luv.”

Buffy spun around to see him leaning against the door effectively halting her escape. “Uh, yeah, I was just going for a walk.”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you think I am? Bloody stupid? Try again, Buffy, an’ this time try telling me the truth.”

Her breathing was coming in short puffs, her heart was thumping in her chest, and she scrambled backwards into the back of the couch. She braced herself against it and shook her head.

“I am telling you the truth. I was coming right back. Geez, what is your problem?” She tried to sound tough and confident, but her voice was coming out highly pitched and rushed.

Stalking towards her, a predatory gleam in his darkened blue eyes, he closed the space between them until they were touching. He tilted his head so that his mouth was next to her ear and whispered, “my problem ‘s that you don’t trust me enough t’ tell me what the bleedin’ hell is goin’ on.”

She could feel his warmth being soaked in by her skin, his hot breath at her neck. Her eyes shut and for a minute she just let herself experience what it was like to be so close to another person. It had been so long since she’d had any real physical contact with anybody, save being smacked around by her father, that she was a little overwhelmed by William’s presence in front of her.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, resisting the urge to wrap herself around him to bring him even closer to her.

He pulled back to stare at her. “What?”

Coming to her senses, she placed her hands on his chest she pushed him away from her. “Please, just let me go, okay?”

“No, Buffy, it’s not okay. I can’t jus’ let you walk out of here,” he told her, folding his arms.

“But you have to. I can’t stay here, William. He might find me and I don’t know what he’ll do to you,” she finally confessed as she sunk to the floor. Some of the weight she had been carrying on her shoulders lightened and she felt relief.

Kneeling down, Spike asked, “who, luv? Who’ll find you?”

When she didn’t answer him he dragged her face up to his gaze. “I can’t help you ’f you don’t tell me.”

She let out a snort. “What makes you think you can help me even if I did tell you?”

“Why’d you even come t’ me then? If I can’t help you, then what the hell was the bloody point of lookin’ for me?” He was pacing now, barely containing the frustration that was straining to find a way to expend itself.

“I thought you could at the time, but I was wrong.” Her voice was small and sounded like it belonged to a little lost child.

He paused, looking down on her as she drew her knees to her chest and hugged them close. “Luv, you may not want t’ tell me, but make no mistake, I will find out. The sooner you let me in, the better off we’ll both be.”

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything. They were running around in circles and it was making her dizzy.

He’s just like Giles. The thought made her want to laugh. He wasn’t going to let it drop she knew that for certain. Eventually, she would tell him, but not today, not like this.

“I can’t let you go. I know you don’t ‘ave anywhere t’ go otherwise you wouldn’t have come here,” he told her, still waiting for her to respond.

She nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

A short bark of laughter escaped his lips. “Pet, I thought we already established what I want you t’ do.”

The only reply he got came in a form of a nasty glare.

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I want you t’ stay with me until we get whatever this is figured out. I can’t let you go wandering around out there by yourself.”

“I’m not a child, William. I can take care of myself.” All right, now even she knew how ridiculous that sounded. It was pretty clear she was having problems on the whole self-reliance front.

To his credit, he didn’t make any smart remarks about it though. “I know that, but t’ the whole other world you are jus’ a sixteen year old girl. Lot’s of nasties out there wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of you.”

“I’m almost seventeen. It’s my birthday in a few months.” She felt the need to tell him that.

“Tha’s good, luv.”

She felt a smile warm her lips. He was starting to ease up on her and she had a feeling that he would let it lie for a while. Of course, she could be wrong. After all, she had proved to herself she wasn’t the best judge of his moods last night.

“Are you hungry? I’m feelin’ a mite peckish myself,” he asked her, offering his hand to help her up.

Getting to her feet she said, “yeah, I guess I am little hungry. I haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch.”

He grinned. “Well, unfortunately, I can’t cook so I guess we’ll have t’ go out. Sound okay?”

“Great. It sounds great.”


******



“Steak and eggs, as rare as you can make it an’ over easy with white toast an’ coffee.”

Spike watched as Buffy’s eyes widened at his choice of breakfast. He chuckled and handed the menu to Stella, his favorite waitress at Peg’s Diner.

“What’ll you have, hun?” Stella asked, her mouth smacking a piece of pink bubblegum while she talked.

“Um, I think I’ll have the short stack and some orange juice.”

“Alright.” Stella took Buffy’s menu and left their table.

“So do you come here often?”

Shrugging, he replied, “yeah, they serve breakfast twenty-four hours an’ they don’t hassle me about takin’ stuff to go. Most of the time I grab something from here to take home with me after work.”

She paused for a minute before saying, “So, Xander said you were a bartender.”

He frowned. “You talked to Xander?”

“Uh, yeah. I went to your apartment first, but I guess my mom had written down the address wrong and I ended up knocking on his door instead,” she replied.

Well, that was interesting. Looks like he’d have to go talk to his favorite neighbor.

Stella arrived with their drinks and Spike set to making his coffee. Four sugars and two creams later…

“I’ve worked at the Blue Temple for four years now. Of course, I wasn’t always a bartender. Had t’ work my way up t’ that,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

She stared into her orange juice for a few seconds before taking a leisurely drink of it. “Sounds like a cool job.”

He shook his head. “You’d think so, but it isn’t as glamorous as it sounds. It’s actually kinda depressing watching people get so drunk they can’t keep themselves upright and then leave with people they’d only met three seconds earlier.”

Scrunching up her nose, which Spike thought was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, she put her glass down.

“You’re right, that doesn’t sound very glamorous.”

Their food came and they spent the next twenty minutes in a comfortable silence. That was something that apparently came very natural to them. Spike remembered that at the funeral, they had shared something similar.

He watched as she ate up every last bit of her pancakes. It was nice to see a girl with such a healthy appetite. Even as gluttonous as Las Vegas was, the women there were still the pick and nibble kind. Well, at least all of the ones he seemed to have met had been.

And he’d been out with quite a few. It was a true fact that he was known notoriously for his love ‘em and dump ‘em style of dating. He wasn’t very proud of it, but it wasn’t as if he’d had too many of those women fall into the ‘keeper’s pile’. The women he seemed to be most attracted to were very shallow and more often than not were more interested in his money than him.

There was no way he could ever be considered rich, but he was living quite comfortably. His mother had left him some inheritance and coupled with the money he made at The Blue Temple, there was more than enough to sustain his lifestyle.

As soon as a woman found out he had a little money to play with she tended to try and worm herself into his life. And Las Vegas women were bloody smart too. They knew exactly how to get what they wanted from a man with clever tactics and flat-out lies.

He’d seen many a good man fall to the Harpies of Vegas and it was a damn shame.

Buffy was grinning at him, her hazel eyes sparkling with mirth.

“What?”

“Well, I was just watching you put about sixteen sugar packets into your coffee,” she said, finally letting her laughter loose.

Glancing down at his coffee, he realized that he had, in fact, poured packet after packet into his cup. “Oh, bugger.”

His remark made her laugh harder and Spike couldn’t help but to join in.

Seeing her happy, he felt like he was meeting an entirely new person. When he’d first met her there hadn’t been anything for her to be happy about and he imagined when he’d seen her again last night the same had been true as well. It was good to see her laugh even if was at his expense.

She was a beautiful girl. Looked a lot like her mother who was a beautiful woman in her own right. He could admit that when Giles and she had come to visit him during their honeymoon he had been a bit smitten with Joyce. Like mother, like daughter.

Reaching across the table, he grabbed her orange juice and took a drink. He wasn’t sure he liked the direction his thoughts had been going. How attractive Buffy was probably the last thing he should have been thinking about.

“Hey! That’s mine, you thief!” She exclaimed, trying to get back the stolen glass.

“Sorry, luv, but I stole it fair an’ square. ‘f you want it back, you’re gonna have t’ come an’ get it,” he told her with a smirk.

Okay, he didn’t like the look in her eyes and just as he was about to tell he was surrendering, she slid under the table.

“Buffy? What’re you doin’ down there?”

Suddenly, he felt her pinch his thigh. Letting out a very unmanly yelp, he reached down to pull her up.

When she was seated next to him and away from his exceedingly sensitive parts, he watched her capture the glass and take a long sip from it before turning to grin at him in triumph.

Bloody hell. This girl was going to be the death of him.



A/N: Okay, I know everyone is very anxious for the Spuffy to begin (so am I), but just be patient with me. Obviously there are some age difference issues to address and that will take a little time to work through. I promise I won’t drag it out forever, it will happen soon enough.
Chapter 7 by Jaesha
A/N: You guys are great! Thanks for keeping me motivated. Now…on with the show!!




“So, I can clear out some space in the closet for your stuff.”

Buffy looked up at him. He was leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, index fingers hanging loosely in the belt loops of his faded blue jeans. Hello, Mr. Hottie.

“Uh, okay,” she replied, not able to tear her gaze away from him.

The picture Giles had showed her of him looked so far removed from the man who was standing in front of her. Now that she was a little older, she could recognize the differences between boy and man. William had been cute with a youthful exuberance that he wore for everyone to see. But Spike was handsome and dangerous, the years’ wisdom clearly showing in his face. It was almost hard to believe they were the same person.

She knew that she’d always been kinda attracted to him, first from the photo then when she had met him at the funeral. But now that ‘kinda’ was a closer to a ‘oh, hell yeah’.

Despite all the arguing, she could feel herself being drawn into the wonder that was Spike. And it scared her to death.

“I guess I’ll continue takin’ the couch since I only have the one bed,” he told her, moving to sit next to her on said couch.

Her breathing hitched. “Um, well, I don’t want to put you out or anything. I can take the couch. I mean, it is your apartment and your bed and you’ve been so good to me by letting me stay and all.” Babbling! You’re babbling. Knock it off.

“Nah, that’s okay, pet. I don’t mind the couch. You take the bed.” He grinned at her. “Besides, you girlies need your privacy and all that rot.”

She blushed bright crimson and turned away from him. Why did he have to be so damn…charming? She was already developing a huge crush on him and now he had to go and make cute little comments like that. Big trouble. She was in big trouble.


******



Bloody well shoot me right now.

He was twenty-seven years old and was lusting after a sixteen- almost seventeen- year old girl. But how could he not? Buffy was absolutely adorable with her innocent blushing and shy smiles. She was so much different from the women he was constantly surrounded by that he was completely fascinated by her.

Of course, she’s different. She’s just a child, you pillock!

Feeling like a dirty old man, he jumped up from the couch where he had been sitting far too close to her and hurriedly made his way to the bedroom. “So, I’ll just clean out that closest now. Make yourself at home. Watch some telly, if you’d like,” he said as he left the room.

“Get a bloody grip,” he mumbled to himself once he was safely out of ear’s reach.

Deciding it was best to take his mind of the lovely little blond nymph that was capturing more than just his attention; he started looking through his closet, seeing what he could rearrange to make room for her stuff.

It was going to be uncomfortable having her there. Not only because he was having to constantly fight his growing attraction to her, but because the space in his apartment was severely limited. He was used to living alone and he knew it wasn’t going to be the easiest transition to make.

He had purposely stayed in his one bedroom apartment because there was honestly no room for anyone else. No one-night stands conveniently needing a place to crash for a few days that would end up being a few months. No down-on-their-luck acquaintances from work rooming with him. No reason to add to the very exclusive group of friends he had.

And now here he was with Buffy. Opening his home to her, his friendship, and if she didn’t stop looking so damn cute, his bed.

Uh-uh-uh. You’re not supposed t’ be thinkin’ like that, mate.

The only hope for him was to stop thinking of her a gorgeous young woman and more like family. Yeah, his very nice teenaged cousin…er, uncle’s stepdaughter…whom he was only related to by marriage which no longer existed. Okay, that wasn’t going to work.

“She came t’ you for help an’ all you can do is think about how kissable her lips would be. You are a bloody stupid wanker, Spike Pratt,” he told himself, throwing a pile of shirts on the bed.

She had yet to tell him why she was there too. During their argument that morning, he had decided to let the subject drop but he had not forgotten that it was still very much unresolved. Depending on why she had run away there could be serious problems with their current living arrangement.

If she was on the run from the law he wouldn’t be able to stop them if she was caught. Not that he would turn her in, ever, but there was only so long you could hide from the cops before they finally caught up with you.

Fortunately, he didn’t think she had been involved in anything illegal and that meant she’d run for another reason. She didn’t seem like the type to just run away without a good cause to.

The more he thought about it the more he came to believe it had something to with her father. Rupert hadn’t said much about Joyce’s first husband only that their divorce had been quite ugly. Now what that meant exactly, Spike was unsure. ‘Ugly’ could mean any number of things. Long litigation, custody battles, and numerous other complications could all be called ‘ugly’.

Buffy was scared of someone; she’d said so this morning with her accidental slip of him and he. If it was her father, there were only so many things he could have been guilty of and most of them made Spike’s stomach churn.

He had grown up with an abusive father and knew how much damage a parent could inflict on their child if they saw fit to. Thankfully, when he had been around ten years old, Rupert saw that Alistair Pratt never laid another hand on William or his mother. Of course, that wasn’t the last time Spike had seen the bastard but that was another story.

The promise he had made to his uncle was still ringing in his ears. Spike owed everything to Rupert Giles and if was the last thing he did, he would see to it that whatever Buffy was running from would never catch her.


******



Buffy flicked off the television. There was nothing on in the afternoon during the weekdays and she really had more interest in spending time with Spike anyway.

He’d been in his room for almost an hour now. How long did it take to move some clothes around?

“Spike?” She called through the closed door.

“Uh, yeah, pet?” His muffled voice replied.

She turned the door knob and stuck her head inside. Fighting the urge to laugh, she watched as he waded through a mountain of clothes to get back to the closet.

“It looks like a tornado hit in here. I thought you were just going to make a little room not dump out your entire closet,” she said as she entered the room, cautiously stepping over random shoes and other accessories.

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Think I’m a bit over my head with this now. How ’bout helpin’ a bloke out and givin’ me a hand with putting this all away.”

“What do I get if I say yes?”

She watched as he froze, and then looked up at her with an expression she couldn’t read. Damn him and his mysterious looks!

“I don’t know, luv. What do ya want?” He drawled out, his tongue curling up behind his front teeth.

“How about a pint of Chunky Monkey and we’ll have a deal,” she replied.

All of the sudden he was frowning. Uh, what did she do now?

“Chunky Monkey not one of your favorites, I take it.”

His eyebrow quirked up as his expression changed from unhappy to questioning. “Huh?”

Moving to sit on the one uncluttered corner of the huge king-sized bed, she picked up a purple silk shirt and played with the collar. “Well, you were all frowny when I mentioned Chunky Monkey, I figured you didn’t like it or something.”

“Oh.” His expression went back to the frown before finally settling on an easy smile. “I jus’ must have spaced out there for a mo. Sorry.”

Funny, he hadn’t looked like he’d spaced out. In fact, she could practically see the wheels that were turning inside his head. He just hadn’t wanted to say what he was thinking.

“So was that a yes to the ice cream or will I be leaving you to clean up this mess by yourself?” Perhaps it was better that she didn’t know what he was thinking. She liked to pretend that he was thinking something naughty about her, but she knew that wasn’t true. And she decided that she preferred the imaginary thoughts to whatever he was really thinking about.

“Oi! I knew you’d turn on me the minute I couldn’t give you what you really wanted. Women and their bleedin’ chocolate fixes,” he said with a grin.

She folded her arms over her chest and pouted. “There’s not that much chocolate in it. It’s mostly just banana ice cream.”

“Eww. Banana ice cream? What kind of weirdo thought that one up?”

“Uh, hello? Ben and Jerry.”

“Oh, Ben and Jerry. Geniuses of the Twentieth Century,” he told her sarcastically.

“Hey! Do not knock Ben and Jerry. They are a girl’s best friend.”

His brow furrowed as he leaned his back against the closet door. “I thought diamonds were a girl’s best friend.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “Money can’t buy you the things that really matter in life. I’d take ice cream over diamonds any day of the week.”

The silence stretched between them and Buffy wondered for the second time in twenty minutes what she’d said wrong. He was looking at the floor, his foot toying with an old black Doc Marten.

“Buffy, I think you should tell me what happened.”

“I-” she paused to gain her voice, “-I can’t.”

He started to protest but she stopped him with a wave of her hand.

“I can’t tell you right now. I’m just not ready. I’ve held it in for so long that I’m not sure where to start or even how to put into words. Please, Spike, I just need some more time. I’m not going to lie to you anymore, but I just can’t talk about it yet.”

Nodding, he glanced over at her and smiled. “Okay. I won’ push. But I need you t’ know that I’ll do everything I can t’ keep you safe from him and it would be a whole lot easier t’ do so if I knew exactly what I was dealing with here.”

One thing she had figured out about Spike was that he was brilliant at putting two and two together. It was unspoken, but Buffy knew that Spike was aware of just who ‘him’ was. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. She hadn’t decided yet whether that was a good or bad thing, though.

“So,” he said as he slapped his hands together, “Chunky Monkey is all you have to bargain with then? ‘Cause I think I’m about t’ make you an offer you can’t refuse.”



Madame Jae says: Ah, yes. Our fair hero is having a difficult time keeping his lusty thoughts at bay. I foresee…many restless nights and cold showers in your future. Mwahahaha!!!
Chapter 8 by Jaesha
A/N: I finally have an update for you! Yay!!



Spike had taken her for pizza and ice cream after she had helped him straighten up his room. He’d never seen someone get so happy over greasy pizza before. She was practically beaming when he led her into the pizzeria and told her to order anything she wanted.

And then the ice cream! If he hadn’t been hot for her before, he sure as hell was now. The way she’d licked her ice cream cone had him uncomfortably shifting in his seat for twenty minutes. It was too sinful for an innocent girl like her to be using her tongue that way.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he walked over to the bedroom door and poked his head in. She was sound asleep, her tiny fist curled around the black comforter. Peaceful was probably the best way to describe how she looked curled up in his bed.

He gave her one final glance as he closed the door. The poor girl had been through a lot and it awed him that she could be so comfortable around him. He figured it was mostly due to his Uncle and the relationship he and Buffy’d had. Seeing a good man like Rupert showed her that not all men were complete bastards, made it a little easier for her to trust again.

Going to the refrigerator, he pulled out a six pack of Heineken and made his way to the front door. He made sure he closed the door softly before taking the few steps to his neighbor’s apartment and knocked on the door.

The door opened after a few knocks and Spike waved the beer in front of Xander Harris’ face. With a quick nod, Xander let him through and they made their way into the living room.

“So, what do I owe this grand pleasure to?” Xander asked, grabbing one of the beers and popping the top with his pocket knife.

Shrugging, Spike took a long drink from his bottle. “The missus home?”

“Nah, she had to go into work. Something about a bad purchasing order that she had to straighten out with Cordelia,” Xander replied, his attention bouncing from the football game on television and Spike.

“So how’s she likin’ the job so far?”

Spike had gotten Anya a job at The Blue Temple a few months ago. It had been a win-win position as far as he was concerned. Cordelia’s bookkeeper had just retired and Anya had just lost her job with an accounting firm, it hadn’t been difficult to put two and two together.

“She likes it a lot. She has been meaning to have you over for dinner or something,” Xander told him.

“I’m glad t’ hear it.”

“Oh, hey!” Xander turned to face him. “Did some girl find you last night? She came by here looking for you and I sent her to The Blue Temple. I figured she knew you pretty well since she kept calling you William.”

“Hmm. Let me think. Did she have kinda golden hair, about yay-” Spike held his hand up to Buffy approximate height, “-tall?”

“Yeah,” Xander said, nodding.

“Cute little nose and hazel green eyes, wearin’ a blue sleeveless number?”

“Yeah.”

“Teenager, about sixteen?”

“Ye-Huh? She was only sixteen?” Xander shook his head. “She didn’t look sixteen.”

“Well, she was and I have the bloody mind to pop you one good for sending her out to the strip alone.”

Holding up his hands in surrender, Xander said, “It’s not my fault you had a sixteen year old girl look- Hey, wait a minute! What the hell was a sixteen year old girl doing looking for you anyhow? I mean, damn, Spike! I knew you liked ‘em young and all but-”

“Shut your gob, whelp. She’s related t’ me and she needed a place t’ stay,” Spike told him.

“Oh. How are you related? I thought you didn’t have anyone.”

Thanks for bringing up a sore subject, wanker. As much as he hated to admit it, though, Xander was right. He didn’t have anyone, not family or friends. Not any that were close, at least.

“She’s my uncle’s stepdaughter.”

Xander frowned. “Your uncle that died, right?”

Oh, he was slow tonight. Xander wasn’t usually this dense, but it seemed with the combination of beer and football he had lost all intelligence.

“Right.”

“So, why does she need a place to stay? Where was she living before?”

“With her dad. But she hasn’t told me why she’s here yet. Bit tight-lipped about the matter to be honest. I ‘spect it has somethin’ t’ do with her father though.”

Xander looked back to the television and took a drink from his beer. “She ran away, then? Not that I blame her if she was being abused or something. Why’d she come to you?”

“I met her at the funeral and I told her if she needed anything she could ask me. Seems she took me up on the offer,” Spike replied, a slight smile on his lips.

“What are you going to do now? I mean, this could potentially get kinda sticky if her dad comes looking for her or the cops.”

Leaning back into the back of the sofa, Spike folded his arms. “I don’ have the slightest fuckin’ clue what I’m goin’ t’ do. She can’t go t’ school here, not if there’s a chance someone might find her. And I don’ exactly know what might happen if they did. Jail time does not appeal t’ me in the least.”

Xander hummed in agreement.

“But I can’t jus’ let her fend for herself and she’s not goin’ back t’ that bastard if I have any say in the matter. I’ve been where she was and it wasn’t pretty. She deserves better than that.”

“Well, you can count me and An’ in if you need help,” Xander said, tipping the top of his bottle towards Spike.

That would be a huge help. Spike had been wondering what he was going to do with her while he was work. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but she was in a new place and something bad could happen while he was gone and she wouldn’t have anybody to help her. With Xander just across the way, he could feel confident in letting her be by herself at night.

“Speakin’ of help, would it be too much t’ ask if I wanted you t’ check up on her while I was at work?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t mind. Bring her by tomorrow,” Xander replied, taking another leisurely sip from his beer.

“I think we’ll be able to make an appearance.”


******



Buffy screamed, bolting upright in the bed.

Since her parents had died, she’d had horrible nightmares in which she witnessed their accident. Sometimes she was the cause of it and that scared her more than anything. She wasn’t there when they had died, but there was always this fear that she’d been to blame somehow. Her dreams just solidified that fear and there were many nights she fought sleep to spare herself the terror of the images that weren’t even real.

“Spike?” She called out, hoping she didn’t have to wake him.

When she used to wake up from a nightmare at her father’s house, there had been no one to comfort her. She had felt so alone.

Pulling back the covers, she slid out of bed and padded across the carpet to the door. “Spike?” She opened the door and peered into the living room, her gaze settling on the empty couch.

Where was he? The bathroom door was open and the light was off so she knew he wasn’t there. Stepping into the living room, she glanced around the apartment. He wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Falling onto the couch she pulled her knees up to her chest. He hadn’t said anything about needing to leave. Surely if he had to go to work, he would have told her. Of course, he didn’t owe her any explanations; it was his house after all. But that didn’t stop her from feeling dismissed.

After the dream and now finding herself alone, she couldn’t help the tears that began flowing freely from her tired eyes. She had never been the type to feel sorry for herself, but in this instance, she wondered why she was being punished. What could she have possibly done so wrong that would garner this type of pain as her retribution?

What had been mild tears had now turned into choking sobs. Her body was convulsing with the strength of her cries and she hugged her knees tighter to her body, rocking back and forth.

She didn’t hear the door open or the sound of Spike’s hurried steps to her. She barely felt the cushions dip under his weight or the heavy arm that encased her. It wasn’t until she heard his calming voice that she even knew he was there.

“Shh, kitten. Its okay, I’m here now. C’mon, don’ cry, Buffy,” he said to her, his hold tightening around her.

Despite his attempts to calm her, she continued to sob wretchedly. Her tears soaked the front of his black t-shirt as she clung to him.

“Its okay, baby. Calm down an’ tell me what’s wrong,” Spike whispered to her, his large hand rubbing her back in a circular motion.

She shook her head against his chest. Strength and courage had left her and all that remained was fear and uncertainty.

He lifted her chin and she looked up at him through wet lashes. “There’s my girl.” Brushing the hair from her face, he kissed her forehead.

Her voice started to gain some volume as she asked, “Where were you?”

“Is that what this is about?” He frowned, searching her eyes for the answer. “Oh, buggar. Luv, I’m sorry. I was next door talkin’ t’ Xander. You were asleep so I figured you wouldn’t notice if I popped out for a minute.”

“Oh,” she replied in a small voice. Now she felt really stupid.

“Why don’ I get you back t’ bed? I promise I won’ leave again.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Standing up, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He set her down in the bed and drew the covers around her. He sat down on the edge and brought his hand up to caress her flushed cheek.

“You alright now?” He asked her.

“Yeah, I’m better.”

“Good. You should get some sleep. Call me if you need me, yeah?”

He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers and suddenly her whole body froze. She could feel his warm breath tickling the skin below her nose and her lips tingled from the sensation of his mouth on hers.

It hadn’t lasted but mere seconds, but that hadn’t made the experience any less intense.

Looking up, she saw a myriad of emotions play on Spike’s face, each more confusing to decode as the next. Maybe she had done something wrong.

“Did I do something wrong?” She watched his expression solidify.

“No, luv, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just been a long day an’ I think we could both use some sleep,” he replied, standing up.

Again, he seemed to be saying one thing but the look in his eyes told a different story. What was he hiding from her?

“Goodnight, Buffy.” Spike turned away from the bed and started for the door.

“Spike, wait!”

“What?” He asked from the door.

Sitting up, she clutched tightly at the comforter. “Could you just, maybe, hold me until I fall asleep?”

Buffy could see the debate going on in his head. She realized it was a lot to ask of him, but after the nightmare she’d had, there was no way she was going to be able to sleep on her own.

“Sure, pet,” he said with a soft smile.

Spike moved to the bed and laid down next to her, gathering her in his arms. She could feel his hard chest against her back, his arms banded tightly around her waist. His scent floated around her and she could feel the light pull of sleep tugging at her.

Snuggling closer to him, she closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her.




A/N: After this chapter, be prepared because I am really going to try and pick up the pace a bit. I’ve got a lot of ground to cover and that will be nearly impossible if I keep at the rate I’m going. Hope you all enjoyed! Look forward to seeing your wonderful comments. ~Jae
Chapter 9 by Jaesha
A/N: Here’s an update for you. And I have to thank you guys yet again for your constant support of this fic. You guys rock!!






The first thing Spike realized when he started coming to was that he had a very soft and very pliable body in his arms. The second, that he was incredibly hard, so much so that it was beginning to throb painfully.

He nuzzled into sweet smelling hair and his grip around the woman tightened, his palm finding her ripe breast. Moaning, he couldn’t stop the thrust of his hips against her round buttocks.

It had been so bloody long since he’d had a woman. Months, in fact. His libido was in overdrive and even though he had a nagging voice somewhere in the back of his mind telling him that something wasn’t quite right, he was too far gone to hear it.

His hand left her breast and slid down her shirt towards the treasure below. He moved under the elastic waistband of her shorts and cupped her. God, she was so hot and wet for him that he almost couldn’t wait for her to wake up.

“Mmm, baby, wake up,” he whispered hotly into her ear. He wanted a conscious and fully participating partner so her sleeping through the event just wouldn’t do.

Her body stretched against him and if it was possible, he grew even harder. “Spike,” she moaned, her breath coming out in sighs.

He grinned. Oh, yeah, she wanted it bad. “That’s right. Wake up so I can see you come for me.”

She started squirming against his touch and he pushed the edge of her panties aside, sliding his fingers over her. Parting her silken folds, he ran his index finger from bottom to top, catching the tip on her swollen button of nerves.

A strangled cry escaped her throat. “Spike.”

Catching a little more of her moisture on his fingertip, he began rubbing her in a circular motion, her little noises driving him to the brink of climax and insanity. He would never last long enough if she kept it up.

Suddenly, he felt a small hand on his arm and she said his name again. Oh, she was just begging for it now. Her enthusiasm urging him on, he moved faster and harder, trying to push her over the precipice that would bring her total satisfaction.

“Oh, luv, you’re so close, I can tell. C’mon, come for daddy,” he told her, his teeth coming up to bite her earlobe.

In a final move, he pinched her between thumb and forefinger. Her whole body went ridged and she wailed her completion.

He could smell her sweetness, could feel it on his fingers like warm honey. She was ready enough to take him now and without a moment’s hesitation, he rolled her over.

But instead of a ready and willing woman, a terrified girl stared up at him.

“Buffy?” He choked out.

Her hazel eyes were wide and glistening with unshed tears, a sheen of perspiration covered her golden skin. Her lower lip was trembling and her body was shaking.

The word rape kept flashing behind his eyes.

“Buffy, luv, I-”

Her hands came up to his chest and she gently pushed him away. He watched in silent shock as she sat up, her back to him, then stood up and left the room.

“Fuck! Bloody fuck!” He yelled out, his face buried in his hands. What the hell had he just done?



******




Closing the door behind her, Buffy went and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. Her entire body still tingled from the explosion of sensations that had rocked her world only moments before. She knew enough to know what had just happened to her, but it didn’t help her explain the emotion flooding her every molecule.

She blushed. God, what he’d done to her… She remembered waking up slowly to the sound of his voice in her ear then the most delicious tingles traveled through her body. It took her a minute to figure out what was happening, but once she did, she was at a loss. Did she stop him or pretend like she was completely unaware of what he was doing?

For a moment, she did pretend. And then suddenly, the tingles turned into something more potent and heavy. At that point the fear took over and she called out his name to try and stop him. But he didn’t stop, kept just making her body spiral further and further out of control until she was shaking with release.

The look on his face when he’d rolled her over told a thousand stories. It was pretty clear to her that he didn’t realize who he was doing those things to and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or hurt.

Standing up, she moved to look at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed and her hair was damp, strands of it sticking to her neck. She felt like a stranger in her own body. Gone was the little girl and in her place stood a young woman on the edge of adulthood. What had occurred between her and Spike was only pushing her farther over that ledge.

She turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on her heated skin. How was she going to face him now? Embarrassment and anxiety were making her queasy. She had never been touched like that before and she wasn’t sure how she should be reacting in the aftermath.

It was times like these that she missed her mother to the point of devastation.

But since her mother was gone, she couldn’t receive the advice needed in this case. And that meant she had to figure it out for herself. With the way Spike had reacted to her when he figured out it what was happening, she didn’t think screaming and crying was going to help any. The only solution was to try and be an adult about it.

She wasn’t angry at him, maybe she should be, but she couldn’t muster up any ill will towards him. What he had done felt so good and even though she had been frightened by what she was feeling, she didn’t regret it. She knew that it could never happen again, would never happen again. The memory of it, though, would last a lifetime.

Pulling her hair back and brushing her teeth, she glanced at herself one last time in the mirror. It was as good as it was gonna get without a shower.

When she left the bathroom, she found Spike sitting at the kitchen table with a cigarette between shaky fingers. She sat down across the table from him and waited for him to say something.

When he didn’t, she figured she would have to make the first move. “Spike, are you okay?”

“How can you ask me that?” He asked without looking at her. “Why are you askin’ me that? I should be the one askin’ you if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

His head shot up. “Fine? You’re not fine, Buffy. I can tell.”

Sitting back in the chair, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, you must not be able to read me very well ‘cause I am fine.”

“How can you be fine after what happened? After what I did?” He said angrily, and then his voice changed to a whisper. “I raped you, Buffy. That’s not okay.”

“Huh?” What was he talking about? He didn’t rape her. Maybe touched her without her knowledge for a little while, yes, but rape? What was that saying? It’s pretty hard to rape the willing and even though she was kinda wigged, she certainly was willing.

“Buffy, what I did to you was-”

“It wasn’t rape, Spike,” she replied incredulously.

He shook his head. “No, it was. You are young and-”

“I’m young, but I’m not stupid. I know what rape is and I’m telling that wasn’t it.” God, was this guy ever going to get it?

“Look, I know you don’ want t’ admit it, but what I did was wrong. I forced you t’ do those things,” he told her, his blue eyes shining with pain and regret.

“Do what things? Make me feel incredibly good things? I liked it, Spike. I don’t call that being forced,” she replied, a small smile on her lips.

The shock colored his expression and it took him a minute to respond. “Why were you crying then?”

“Well, I was kinda freaked for a minute.” She downcast her eyes so she was staring a speck of ash that had escaped the ashtray instead of his intense gaze. “I mean, I’ve never… That was the first time that happened to me and I had all of these feelings. I just didn‘t know how to handle it.”



******



Oh.

So that was why she had been upset. Her first time. With him. Oh, this wasn’t making him feel any better about what happened.

After she had left him, he’d had a few minutes alone to process it all and he discovered, much to his dismay, that while he had been halfway between sleep and consciousness there was no doubt in his mind who she was. He knew it had been Buffy lying next to him when he touched her. It was foggy and he really hadn’t been all together upstairs, but behind his closed eyes he was picturing her.

Now she was sitting here telling him that he had been her first…well, he didn’t know what since he thankfully never got around to doing what he really wanted to. And he felt like he took advantage of her. No scratch that. He knew he had taken advantage of her. His coherence at the time be damned, it was still wrong.

“Spike?” Her voice broke through his thoughts.

He glanced up at her. Despite how disgusted with himself he was, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked. “I shouldn’t-”

“I know. And I know it can’t happen again. But you need to know that I’m okay.” she told him.

Why was she so calm? He was supposed to be the adult here and yet she was the one with the composed tones of reason. Somehow their roles had gotten reversed and he was the inexperienced kid while she was the levelheaded adult.

It couldn’t happen again, he knew that as well as she did. Their relationship had to remain very platonic not only because of her age, but because she had bigger problems facing her. The added issue of his lust for her, and possibly her lust for him the way she had made it sound, coupled with her life on the run would make it ten times more difficult to deal with.

“Friends?” She held out her hand to him with an expectant expression on her face.

Friends. He was well aware that they could never be friends not with the sexual tension running like a current between them. But there wasn’t alternative at this point. She couldn’t very well leave any more than he could let her go and they would never be together in a romantic capacity so that only left the uncharted middle ground of friendship.

Grasping her hand and giving it a quick shake, he conceded. “Yeah, friends.”




A/N: So…what do you guys think? I kinda struggled with warning you ahead of time about the content. But in the end, I figured that: 1. It would spoil it and 2. I knew that it wasn’t something that was going to end ugly or violent. I hope you guys are still with me and would love to hear your feedback. ~Jae
Chapter 10 by Jaesha
Sorry for the delay…thanks for stickin’ with me.



Can you say awkward?

She didn’t know what to expect, but this wasn’t it. They had talked it through, hadn’t they? Agreed that everything was okay between them. Friends?

Spike hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction since the end of their conversation over four hours ago. At some point they’d both wandered over to the couch and put on some ridiculous movie on Comedy Central. A few forced chuckles was all she had heard out of him.

Being that she had no experience with any type of post-sex interactions, she was at a complete loss. And even if she’d had some experience, it probably wouldn’t have helped anyway considering the circumstances.

And to top it all off, she’d gotten her period. Thankfully, though, it had happened after the whole Spike-touchy-goodness or she would have been positively mortified. Of course now, she had to ask Spike to take her to the store since she had apparently forgotten to pack anything.

So, awkward silence? Check. Loss for words? Check. Uncomfortable distance between them? Check. Asking Spike to drive her to the drugstore to buy some feminine hygiene products? Uh…

“Spike?”

He suddenly froze in an odd position, both hands locked under his thighs and his mouth agape as if he was about ready to force another bark of laughter. Slowly, he turned to face her. He kind of looked like a deer in headlights.

“Buffy?”

“C-Could you take me to the store?” She bit her lip, hoping he didn’t ask her why she wanted to go.

Instantly, he loosened up and nodded. “Sure, luv. You want t’ go now?”

Expelling a huge sigh of relief, she replied, “Yeah, that would be good.”



******




Spike wandered up the magazine aisle while he waited for Buffy to finish her shopping. Picking up a copy of Rolling Stone, he flipped mindlessly through the pages.

He had really tried to put what happened that morning out of his mind, but it wasn’t working out that way. All he could seem to think about was how wonderful she had felt and then the inevitable guilt that followed.

Buffy seemed to be handling it pretty well. Not that he knew how she was supposed to be handling it since he’d never been in a situation like this one. He probably could have handled her anger better than this ‘let’s be friends’ crap.

There were lot’s of things he should be in regards to her, but friends shouldn’t have been one of them. Not after this morning, maybe before, but not now.

She had said she liked it and he didn’t know how to deal with that either. A big, sick part of him reveled in the fact that she had enjoyed it. The other…well, at this point, he was trying not to hear the angel on his shoulder telling him he was a creep to have even looked in her direction to begin with.

Seeing Buffy coming towards him with a basket in her hand, he put the magazine back on the shelf and started off to meet her halfway.

“Find everything you were lookin’ for?”

Her cheeks were bright pink and he glanced down in her basket. Oh. Hence the urgent trip to the store.

“Yeah.” Her eyes were downcast, looking at the dirty white tile under her shoes.

It was obvious she was embarrassed. Not that she had any cause around him since he was not bothered by it in the least. He worked with about twenty-five cocktail waitresses and they tended to talk about their womanly problems regardless of the audience. Oh, he’d heard it all.

Besides, women were magnificent creatures, in his opinion. No matter what went on with their bodies. Nothing to be ashamed about.

Sensing she probably didn’t want to talk about; he gave her a reassuring smile. “Well, let’s get outta here then.”

They walked over to the register where a kid with a pierced eyebrow and blue-streaked hair stood, ringing up the items of the person in front of them. Buffy put her items on the counter and waited for her turn.

“Hey,” the kid said, leering at her.

“Uh, hi.”

Spike took a deep breath. Already the kid was trying his patience and if he didn’t just get to moving, there was a chance that Spike’s evil twin might come out to introduce himself.

“I’m Kyle,” he told her, pointing to his name tag. “And what’s your name, baby girl?”

“Buffy.”

“Sweet,” he replied, picking up the box of tampons without looking at it.

That’s right, you wanker. Just ring it up so we can get the bloody hell out of here.

Kyle moved to put it in a bag, but suddenly stopped when he realized what was in his hand. His eyebrows went up in a question, the leer returning to his face. “So, super absorbency. Are you easy?”

At first Spike didn’t hear the kid. Well, he didn’t think he heard the kid right, at least. But with the combination of the words sinking into his head and Buffy’s bewildered expression, he saw red.

Grabbing the kid by the front of his blue shirt, Spike pulled him over the register and threw him against the cigarette cabinet. The box of tampons flew out his hand and landed ten feet away.

“Hey man!” The kid screamed, his back thumping against the glass as Spike shoved him repeatedly.

“Don’t you ever talk t’ her like that, you fuckin’ little punk.” His voice was low and full of deliberate menace. He wanted to kill, tear the kid limb from limb, take some pliers to his piercings, anything to make the pillock realize he should never fuck with another man’s property.

And so was the thought that crossed his mind: Buffy belonged to him.

“I-I-I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!”

It wasn’t the kid’s begging nor the manager’s hand grabbing at his shoulder that finally stopped him. Looking over at Buffy, all he saw was the fear in her eyes. Fear of him.

Dropping the kid on the floor, he started towards her, but she backed away from him.

“Buffy…”

She shook her head in a silent order to stay away from her.

“You get out of here!” The manager yelled out behind him.

Spike spun around to face the chunky middle-aged manager. “Me?! You’ve got t’ be bloody kidding me? Your employee was harassing this girl and you ‘ave the fuckin’ nerve t’ tell me t’ get out!”

“I’ll call the police,” the manager threatened.

“Yeah, you do that, asshole. Call ‘em so I can-”

“Spike, please, let’s just go,” Buffy called out.

Turning around, he studied her for a moment. The fear was still there, it wasn’t as predominant, but there nonetheless. God, he was such an idiot. He was really doing a great job of getting her to trust him with everything that had happened that morning and now this.

“Right,” he said before marching over to the box that was now resting next to a display of Las Vegas-themed merchandise. Picking the box up, he stomped back over to the register and slapped a twenty down on the counter. “Keep the change.”

He grabbed Buffy’s hand and made it half-way to the door before he stopped and faced the kid. “I ever see you again…you better ‘ope you’re wearin’ fast runnin’ shoes ‘cause tubby over there won’t be around t’ save your ass next time.”



******




The ride back to the apartment was uncomfortable at best.

As soon as they pulled up to the building, Buffy jumped off and ran up the stairs. Spike was right behind her, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Buffy, you don’t have t’ run from me.”

She frowned. Is that what he thought she was doing? “I wasn’t running from you. I was…” She held the box up and shook it, her eyebrows raised.

Realization dawned on him and his eyes widened. “Oh. Right, then.” He fiddled with the door for a moment before getting it open.

Once she was safely inside the bathroom, she took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. This day was not going well.

It would be a lie if she said Spike’s outburst in the store hadn’t freaked her out. All she could see was her father in Spike’s rage and it was just as if she had never gotten away from him in the first place.

Did she think that Spike would ever be that way with her? She honestly didn’t know. There was a time when she would never have thought her father capable of hitting her, but he had and she knew now just how capable he was. Could she trust Spike anymore than she could trust her own flesh and blood father?

At this point, she was skeptical.

Then again, Spike had been provoked in a way. When Kyle had said that to her, she honestly didn’t have a clue how handle it. She was angry and shocked, but after years of having to swallow her emotions, all she could do was stand there, frozen.

There was a soft knock at the door. “Luv? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, when you’re finished, I think we really need t’ talk.”

She heard his footsteps going down the hall and she quickly finished up.

When she left the bathroom, she found him sitting at the kitchen table, a cigarette between his fingers.

Déjà vu, she thought as she sat down across the table from him.

“Buffy, I feel as though I owe you an explanation,” he told her, taking a drag off the cigarette before setting it down in the ashtray.

Explanation? For what? She expected him to apologize, not explain, since she kind of already knew why he did it.

He took a deep breath, his chest puffing out. “When I was little, my dad was a right bastard. He used t’ beat me and mum when he was drunk.”

“I’m sorry, William. That’s horrible.” She knew from experience just how horrible it was and there wasn’t anything she wanted more than to tell him she understood, but she couldn’t.

He smiled softly before continuing. “He left when I was ten, but I guess I never got over the anger. I do a lot of stupid things, Buffy, but I would never hurt you. I hope you know that.”

She wanted so much to believe him, but after this afternoon, how could she?

“I just couldn’t stand t’ see that wanker talk t’ you that way, pet. You deserve so much more than that and I did the only thing I thought I could do. Right or wrong, I only did it t’ protect you.”

Her eyes darted up to his and felt a shudder go through her. His expression was raw with emotion and she felt any doubts slip away. There may be some similarities between her father’s and Spike’s temper, but that’s where the comparison stopped. Her father didn’t care about her, but Spike…

He made her feel safe and protected. Even the morning before when she had tried to sneak out, he was only trying to keep from leaving so she wouldn’t get herself hurt. His temper had flared more than once with her, but he had never harmed her in any way.

“Buffy? Say somethin’.”

Flying leap? Here went nothing.

“I want to tell you…why I ran.”





Well…love it? Hate it? I’m really not sure myself, you be the judge. : - ) ~Jae
Chapter 11 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
Happy Thanksgiving!!! Gobble, Gobble, Gobble!!
A/N: So I forgot to put this in the last chapter, but I know everyone was kind of shocked at the sudden intimacy between Spike and Buffy. In my own defense, though, I tried to warn you. I believe I made reference to ‘picking up the pace’. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Cryptic.

BTW, have I told you guys yet how much I love all of your reviews? Maybe I’ll say it again in the spirit of Thanksgiving. I am so grateful that you all enjoy my writing, so this one’s for you!




Spike stared at her with rapt attention. What ever he thought she would say after his small confession, this was not it. He had truly believed he had bollixed up any chance of getting the truth out of her after the stupid stunt he had pulled earlier.

“Only if you want to, luv. I won’t push,” he told her, hoping that she didn’t change her mind suddenly.

“No, I want to, really,” she replied.

Determination took over her features and she leaned forward so that her forearms were resting on the table. “After mom and Giles died, I-”

Out of the blue, the phone rang and Spike jumped. He just stared at it for a moment, debating whether or not to answer the damn thing.

“I better get that,” he said in frustration.

Leaning over, he grabbed the phone and pushed the talk button. “Yeah?”

“Spike, its Xander.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Anya wanted me to call and find out if you are still coming over tonight. She’s gonna cook dinner.”

Spike glanced over at Buffy. She seemed fine now, but maybe that would change after she told him about her reasons for running away. On the other hand, he needed her to meet the Harris’ since he had to go back to work the next night.

“Yeah, we’ll be there.”

“Great! Seven, then?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

Hanging up the phone, he turned his attention back to Buffy. Her eyebrows were up in a questioning expression.

“Gonna have dinner with the neighbors tonight, sound okay?” If she said no, he would call Xander back up and cancel.

She nodded. “Okay.”

Now that their conversation had been interrupted, Spike wasn’t sure Buffy would continue. Maybe she had lost her nerve.

“So, luv, you were saying…”

She took a deep breath. “I got sent to live with my dad in LA. I wanted to stay with Jenny, but Social Services wouldn’t let me.”

He remembered Jenny. His uncle had brought her on vacation to England a couple years before he married Joyce. Nice lady, Jenny was. He couldn’t blame Buffy for wanting to stay with her.

“I hadn’t seen my dad since I was seven and so I guess I really didn’t know what to expect. He got remarried and I remember instantly not liking Missy or my step-sister, Harmony. I know they really didn’t want me around to steal my father’s attention away from them.

“Things were kind of tense the first couple of weeks and I figured it would take a little time to get settled in, so I didn’t think anything about how distant my dad seemed to be. Then one day, he called me into his office and started accusing me of stealing from Missy.

“I didn’t steal anything, Spike, I swear,” she said vehemently.

Grabbing her hand, he rubbed his thumb over the small patch of skin between her thumb and forefinger. “Don’t have t’ convince me, pet. I believe you.”

She gave him a sad smile and looked down at their hands. “Well, apparently, he didn’t have the same confidence in me. There was some yelling and then he hit me.”

Spike’s breath caught in his lungs. It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know or have a pretty good idea of her reasons for leaving her father’s, but knowing and hearing the words spoken outloud were completely different things.

The anger and rage that he had felt earlier at the store returned and doubled. That sodding bastard! How dare he touch her! It made him want to hop on his bike and drive out to LA. To teach the bastard a lesson he would never forget.

“Spike?”

His fists clenched, his hand squeezing Buffy’s tightly. He was swimming in a sea of vengeance, his blood boiling in his veins. The way he had reacted to Kyle’s thoughtless remarks was nothing compared to how he was reacting now. Sure, he had wanted to damage the kid, rough him up a little. But Buffy’s piss-poor excuse for a father, he wanted to obliterate, tear into little bloody pieces until there was nothing left to identify him.

“William?”

His given name on her lips broke through his thoughts. Realizing, she could probably see his emotions playing on his face and feel the tension coursing through his muscles, he made himself calm down.

“Sorry, baby,” he said through clenched teeth, still trying to cool his temper. “I’m not scarin’ you am I?”

“A little,” she replied quietly. “But I understand.”

After a moment, his rage had simmered down a bit. “So, I’m guessin’ it wasn’t the only time that happened, right?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Trying to keep his temper in check, his jaw tightened. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6..., he counted down. Although, if he had really wanted to cool himself down, he should have probably started at 1000 because he was pretty sure that he had never felt this kind of anger before. Not even his last meeting with his estranged father had produced half of the fury he felt now.

“It was here and there for a while, but soon it seemed like it was once a week and then every other day. I never kept track, but it was a lot.”

Yeah, he got that. When he was younger the days seemed to blur together until it was only time between beatings that counted.

“One day, I guess I couldn’t handle it anymore and I ran away. To Jenny’s. But I didn’t stay long since she called my father pretty quickly after I got there and he sent someone to pick me up and haul me back.”

“Did you tell her? I mean, what was goin’ on?” If Jenny had dismissed her story, Spike wasn’t sure he could ever forgive her.

But Buffy shook her head. “No, she wouldn’t have believed me anyway.”

“Why do you think that?”

“C’mon, Spike. My dad is like a pillar of the community, why would anyone believe he was hitting me?”

“Because it’s true,” he replied, his fingers brushing against her wrist. “Good standing in the public eye doesn’t mean shit, luv. Look at all of the politicians who are supposedly perfect citizens that turn out to be liars and cheats and worse. Someone would have believed you, Buffy.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know him. He’s powerful, Spike. He owns half of California and most of the people in it. Even if someone did believe me, he would have just bought them off,” she replied, her anger finally coming out to play.

If he was anyone else, he would have thought her to be exaggerating. But Spike knew how power often corrupted the good and decent. Money had a lot of sway when it was flashed in front of someone who didn’t have any. And there were people in this world that had the kind of power Buffy seemed to believe her father had. Alistair Pratt was another.

There were too many similarities to count between Buffy’s father and his own. Difference was Buffy had remained pure and good while he had turned into an angry, bitter man. If it was the last thing he ever did, he would see to it that it stayed that way.

She had too much to live for to be consumed by anger.

“So you came here. To me?”

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t even know you, but somehow I knew. I knew that you would believe me,” she said, her voice full of honesty.

“Then why did you try t’ run from me?” It was a question that had been plaguing him ever since yesterday morning. If she had believed in him enough to come to him in the first place, why had she tried to sneak out?

“Because he’s not going to stop until he finds me and I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Her words went straight to his heart, all at once filling him with both fear and joy. He did care a lot for her despite their short time together and the underlying tone to her words proved that she had feelings for him as well.

But her father was still out there, posed to strike and take her away from him at any given moment. And if he was as powerful as Spike believed he might be, he wouldn’t have any trouble locating his wayward daughter.

“Why does he even want you?” Spike realized how harsh it came out, but couldn’t think of a way to correct his mistake.

Tears began to form in her hazel-green eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Buffy-”

“Tell me why, Spike,” she said in a watery voice. “Why does he hate me so much? What did I ever do to make him hate me?”

She was sobbing now, her body convulsing in heavy shudders. It broke his heart to see her hurt this way. He grasped her wrist and pulled her out of the chair and into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he reached up and smoothed her golden hair away from her wet face.

“Don’t worry, sweets. We’ll figure it out, I promise. He’s not gonna hurt you again,” he told her softly.

“P-Please don’t lie to me. I need to believe you and I couldn’t handle it if you were lying,” she replied through stuttered cries.

“Never, baby. I’ll never lie to you.” He kissed her forehead and hugged her closer to his body.

Her arms came up around his neck and she clung to him tightly. She cradled her head on his shoulder, her lips pressed against his neck. He continued to kiss her, again on the forehead then her cheek until he was hovering dangerously close to her mouth.

He knew he had promised himself not touch her like this, but he couldn’t stop his lips from brushing against hers. She tasted of pain and salty, hot tears as his tongue swept across her lower lip.

A moan escaped her and he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance to the warm cavern of her sweet mouth. His hand slid down her back to rest on her tailbone as he pushed her body up his lap, bringing her closer to his erection.

It was so wrong to take advantage of her like this. Using her misery as an excuse to touch her under the pretense of comfort. But even as he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t stop himself from letting his hands roam her soft body or from sampling her mouth.

Pulling away, he tried to catch his breath. God, how she affected him. She probably didn’t even know what she was doing let alone what she was doing to him.

Her forehead came to rest against his, eyes closed and chest rising and falling with each deep breath. She had stopped crying at some point during their snogging and Spike was at least glad for that. He couldn’t stand to see her cry.

A small hand grabbed his own and their fingers laced together. He could stay there all day like this, holding her. In fact, the thought of letting her go tore at his insides.

Well, so much for bloody friendship.
Chapter 12 by Jaesha
A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews. I really can’t say it enough. And Kimmie, thanks for finding my fic de-lurk worthy…I hope you continue to let me know how I’m doing. ; - ) Well, happy reading, everyone!!




“So Xander said you were related. You don’t look related.”

Buffy gaped at Anya Harris, not knowing how to respond. The fact that her relationship with Spike was kind of fuzzy by definition didn’t make it any easier to admit that in some way, shape, or form they were family. If anything, it made it more difficult.

“She’s my deceased uncle’s stepdaughter, Anya,” Spike told her, clearly trying to put as much distance between their family ties as possible.

“Oh.” Anya looked thoughtful as she set a bowl of green beans on the table. “So you’re technically not related.”

“No, I suppose we’re not,” Spike replied, looking up at Buffy from under his lashes and smiling softly.

There wasn’t anything uncomfortable or intimidating about the Harris’ which shocked her a little. She hadn’t expected to feel so at ease with them especially not after Spike had warned her of Anya’s blunt way of speaking her mind. But she was finding that she appreciated Anya’s honesty more than anything else even if it did catch her a little off-guard.

Xander was, in comparison, Anya’s opposite. While Anya was outspoken, Xander had yet to say much more than ‘hello’ to her since they had arrived. She could tell he was curious, but he didn’t ask any questions. Maybe he figured Anya would ask them for him.

“Are you going to enroll in school here, Buffy?”

Her eyes darted from Anya to Spike. They hadn’t discussed the whole school issue yet. Seemed a little trivial with everything that had been going on in the last couple days, so Buffy hadn’t even brought up the subject to Spike.

“I don’t think she’ll be able to. She’s kind of a runaway,” Spike said bluntly, taking a drink from his bottle of beer.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Spike what the hell he thought he was doing by telling these perfect strangers her business, but Anya effectively shut her up.

“So it was bad, then?” Her eyes were full of concern. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you won’t have to go back to where ever you came from. Maybe you could do one of the correspondence courses.”

Biting her lip, Buffy tried hard not to cry. It was overwhelming, to say the least. First Spike offering her a place to stay and now Anya…

“Are you okay, luv?” Spike asked, grabbing her hand.

Nodding, Buffy tried to regain her composure and her voice. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Cordelia was asking about you yesterday, Spike. I hope you know she is expecting the full story when you go back to work,” Anya stated. She picked up a roll from the breadbasket and set herself to slathering butter on it.

“I figured as much.”

Xander finally spoke up. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to call you.”

Spike grinned. “Yeah, I figured that much too. Turned my mobile off and she doesn’ know my house phone.”

She knew vaguely who they were talking about. Spike had mentioned Cordelia a few times and Buffy knew that she was his boss over at The Blue Temple, but that was it. From the sounds of it though, Cordelia was much more than just his employer. She could feel her gut twist into knots at the thought of him with another woman.

Not that she had any claim on him. But despite that, it wasn’t long before Buffy was seriously regretting her let’s-be-friends idea. If she were honest with herself, a friendship was the last thing she wanted with Spike. Maybe it was some childish school-girl fantasy, but she wanted to be with him romantically.

“Hey,” Xander said to her, leaning closely as if he wanted to tell her a secret. “I’m sorry about the other night. If I had known you were only sixteen, I wouldn’t have sent you off to look for Spike alone.”

Only sixteen. The phrase kept slapping her in the face. Like she needed a reminder of how young she really was, she knew quite well already. Being ‘only sixteen’ meant she couldn’t be on her own, couldn’t be classified as an adult, and it surely meant that any chance she had with Spike was a dead point.

What would he want with a little girl like her? He could have any woman he wanted and here she was deluding herself with fantasies of having a real relationship with him. His comforting embraces were just to placate her and as for what happened that morning, it had obviously been a mistake.

Sighing, she pushed her food around her plate. “It’s okay. I found it alright and I’m in one piece, so no need to worry.”

“Well, next time, I can drive you. Anywhere you want to go,” he said, smiling.

If he were anyone else, she would be getting warning bells and flashing lights. But with Xander, she felt safe. He had a sincerity that seemed to radiate off of him. And if Spike trusted him, knowing how protective he could be, then the guy was probably okay.

“Thanks,” she replied, returning his smile with one of her own.

“Buffy?”

Looking up, she saw Anya staring at her with a mischievous grin. “Yeah?”

“Well, I was thinking, since you’ve got some extra time on your hands with the whole not going to school thing and I’ve got the day off tomorrow, you and I could go burn some plastic and shop,” she said brightly, bouncing a little on her chair.

“I’d love to, but I don’t have a lot of money, so I really don’t-”

Anya’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? Just make Spike give you some.”

Oh, she couldn’t do that! Surely, Anya didn’t mean what Buffy thought she did. “I don’t think-”

“Nonsense! Give her money, Spike,” Anya demanded, pointing down to his jeans’ pocket where his wallet bulged out a little.

Wait a minute! What was happening? Buffy glanced between Anya and Spike, then at Xander, who was trying hard to contain his laughter, and then back to Anya.

“I don’ exactly have the kind o’ cash you’re lookin’ for, An’. I’ll make sure she gets some before you two leave tomorrow. Satisfied?” Spike asked, his dark eyebrows raised.

Anya folded her arms over her chest and pouted for a minute. “Fine. But I am holding you to that promise, William. A girl needs her shopping, you know. And it’s good for the economy, too.”



******




Anya gave Buffy a big hug before sending them both off for the night.

“Not too bad, hmm?” Spike asked as he unlocked the door to his apartment.

Buffy giggled a little before following him into the house. “No, not too bad. I liked them a lot.”

“Yeah, they’re good people. Bit annoyin’ at times, but decent,” Spike replied, flicking on the lights in the living room.

He watched as Buffy sat down on the couch and took her shoes and socks off. A sweet smile curved onto her lips like she was the most contented girl on the planet and it made Spike’s heart fill with happiness.

This bright star was bringing light into his life every second she was with him. It made him wonder how he had ever lived in the darkness. And call it selfish, but he never wanted to let her go.

But that was a subject that wasn’t ready to be broached yet.

“You don’t have to give me money, you know. I have a little,” Buffy told him.

He knew the money issue had embarrassed her. Anya wasn’t exactly known for her tact and he would have preferred to have discussed it in private with her before she blurted out her intentions for the next day. It didn’t change his mind though.

“No, pet. I want you t’ have it,” he replied, sitting down next to her. “I’ve got more than enough for you t’ have your shoppin’ trip with Anya.”

She ducked her head shyly. “I know, but I don’t want you to think I’m just here to take advantage of your kindness.”

“I don’t think that at all, luv.”

Leaning down, he brushed his lips across her cheekbone, lingering too long for it to be a simple platonic kiss between friends. Oh, how he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until the world ended.

His tenderness for her surprised him. Normally when there was a woman who caught his fancy, hot, wild sex was the only thing on his mind. He didn’t care much for cuddling and holding before, during, or after the act itself. It was more of a race to the finish line, not a round of affectionate lovemaking.

But with Buffy that wasn’t true at all. He wanted to be there for her, to hold her in the dark when she was scared, to encourage her growing confidence. It wasn’t all about being physical with her, even though that was certainly on his mind.

He reached up and smoothed a strand of hair away from her face. “You’re a wonderful girl, Buffy.”

That little crease appeared between her eyebrows and she frowned. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong, luv?”

“Nothing.”

He didn’t believe that for a second. She was a bloody rotten liar, even worse than him.

“How ‘bout we try that one again?”

She glared up at him before rolling her eyes and letting out a loud sigh. “Its just, well, I’m not a little girl.”

“I’m not sure I’m followin’ you around that bend, pet,” he replied, cocking his head to one side.

“I’ll be seventeen soon and I think that classifies me as more than just a girl,” she told him, her confidence gaining momentum as she said the words outloud.

“Oh, I see.” He grinned at her. “Well, I happen t’ think you are much more than a girl. A gorgeous, wonderful young woman that doesn’t even know what she’s doin’ to me would be a better description.”

Her breath hitched and her skin flushed a delicious shade of pink. “You shouldn’t lie to me.”

His expression darkened and he turned her to face him. “I believe we already went over this. I won’t ever lie to you, Buffy. It’s all true.”

Her green eyes bored into him for what seemed like an eternity before she tilted her head up and brought her lips to his in a short, sweet kiss.

It wasn’t enough for him, though, and as she pulled away, he grabbed the back of her head and slammed his mouth against hers. He plowed his fingers through her hair and angled his head to deepen the kiss that was already close to consuming him.

She moaned and it only fueled his desire to mark her lips with his own brand, making her his. It was absolutely maddening! He knew he should stop before things went too far, but he felt like a starving man getting his first taste of sweet pastry and he couldn’t get enough of her.

“God, what you do t’ me, baby,” he said huskily after pulling back for air.

How was he going to be able to control himself with her around? Honestly, he didn’t want to, but it wasn’t his decision to make.

“What…” Her voice trailed off for a minute. “What do I do to you?”

Spike shut his eyes in an attempt to calm the other beast. It was an innocent question but it had him reacting as if she had just whispered the naughtiest, nastiest dirty words in his ear.

“I think I would scare you away if I told you, luv,” he replied after a minute.

He should be telling her not to ask him such a question, not encouraging her. It was a little late for denial though. They had crossed some invisible boundary between a fantasy world where they could pretend that there wasn’t anything between them and the hard real truth of it where they couldn’t deny the spark any longer.

“I-I want to know,” she said, her eyes meeting his and holding onto his gaze.

Just talking, that’s all it was, right? No harm could come from just talking and answering her question.

He scooted up next to her and leaned her down so that she was lying against the armrest. Sliding his body above hers, he held himself up by the strength of his arms, not allowing his body to touch hers. His knee settled in between her own as his other leg braced itself against the floor.

“I burn for you. You set me on fire until it’s so hot that all I can think about is coolin’ off. And do you want to know how I would do that?” He purred into her ear.

“Yes,” she replied in a sigh.

“Touchin’ you, tastin’ you. You’re like water for a dyin’ man, kitten. I’d bathe myself in you until both of us were to the breakin’ point and then I’d let the dam loose, let it wash over you.”

Her breathing was heavy and he could feel it blowing hot and moist against his neck. His tongue darted out and traced the shell of her ear then he sucked her earlobe into his mouth. He felt a slippery slide against his neck and realized with a start that Buffy was licking his burning skin, igniting his need to take her then and there.

He pulled back quickly, breathing hard. “Jesus…”

“Did I do something wrong?” She asked, wide-eyed.

Shaking his head, he slumped against the couch. “No. No, it wasn’t wrong. A bit too right, actually.”

It hadn’t been his intention to lose it like that, but what she could do with a flick of her little pink tongue could blow his good intentions out of the water.

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“Its okay, luv. You jus’ shocked me a little, made me lose it for a second,” he told her.

“Is that a bad thing?”

He smirked devilishly at her, his blue eyes sparkling with lust. “Not in the least. It’s a very, very good thing.”

“Oh,” she said again with a little more conviction and then grinned.

“But a bit too soon for that, I think.”

She nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I think so too.”

Well, finally they were on the same page, it seemed. Now if they could just stay on the same page, they’d be fine.








I like reviews…they give me a happy. : - D
Chapter 13 by Jaesha
A/N: Okay, I’ll make this quick ‘cause I’m on my way out the door and I really wanted to give you guys another chapter since you liked the last one so much. Thanks to all of my reviewers! I can’t thank you all enough for your support. Shout out to Gaillee, who is a new reviewer, thanks for the kind words. Yes, I notice… And to all of my long-time fans (well, 12 chapters long) who have kept this going. Much love ~ Jae




The next morning found Spike alone and contorted into a position that shouldn’t have been humanly possible on the couch. It had been an unspoken thing between them that they would spend the night apart. Although, if she had asked him to stay with her he wouldn’t have been able to resist.

Sitting up, he stretched his sore and tight muscles. Sleeping on the couch was going to get old really fast. Since her stay was going to be permanent, he really needed to figure out some better sleeping arrangements or he would be useless at work.

His thoughts drifted to the morning before when he had woken up with Buffy in his arms. Now, that was something he could get quite used to.

But it was too soon for that.

He stumbled into the kitchen and proceeded to make the strongest coffee on the West coast. Waking up at seven o’clock was not his idea of a good time, but it was unavoidable with Buffy around going to bed at a decent hour. He drummed his fingers nervously on the counter in barely-contained anticipation of the caffeine that he would be consuming.

The door to his bedroom was open, had been all night. He guessed it had something to do with the nightmares Buffy had been having. As long as there weren’t any barriers separating them, she could feel safe even though they weren’t sharing the bed. It had been quiet last night so Spike figured keeping the door open was keeping the nightmares at bay.

Nightmares. Nightmares her father had caused. The bastard needed to pay for what he’d done, not that Spike was exactly sure how he was going to accomplish that. Sure, he had ideas, which mostly consisted of scenarios involving blunt objects and a lot of blood, but they were just fantasies, nothing that would go as far as to be a real solution.

And the guy had money and power. There probably wasn’t even the slimmest chance of him getting close enough to Buffy’s father to do anything anyway.

It was more than just a simple promise he had made to his uncle now. What was originally an obligation help her because they had some family ties, had now turned into something much more. He cared for her, worried for her. Somehow she had found a place in his cold, dead heart and made it beat again.

That’s why it was so dangerous for them to be together. On a normal day and in a normal situation, Spike was the epitome of cool confidence. He had his temper on a short leash, not letting anything or anyone too close to matter. But Buffy… On how many occasions had he lost it with her around?

He couldn’t control himself around her. His emotions were running in high gear now. Not just his anger, but his libido as well. And he’d thought about going out and just banging some chick until he was too spent to even think about his sweet little Buffy. It wouldn’t help though. The kind of feelings and lust he had for her were not going to be dulled by fucking a random chit in a seedy motel.

He was a bad, rude man. If he had any honor at all, he would just stop all of this carrying on with Buffy. She was too innocent to be taken advantage of by the likes of him.

And yet, here he was, wandering to the bedroom to watch her sleep, his cup of jet-fuel coffee in hand.



******




Buffy awoke to the feeling of being watched.

“Are you awake, luv?”

It was only Spike. For a minute there, she had been terrified out of her mind that her father had found her.

Turning over, she found him sitting in the red leather chair that sat in the corner of the room with a coffee mug in his hands. His platinum blond curls were wild from sleep and he had a day’s worth of stubble on his chin. He wore only a pair of faded blue jeans, his chest and feet were bare. He looked yummy.

“I’m awake,” she replied shyly, pulling the sheet up to her chin.

“That’s good because Anya is comin' in little less than an hour t’ pick you up.”

She shut her eyes. “Crap! I almost forgot.”

The minute Spike had kissed her last night, she had forgotten all about Anya and their shopping trip. He had a way of making her oblivious to anything else but him. Not that she minded so much, but it tended to be a problem when she couldn’t even remember her name after a simple touch.

“Yeah, you should probably get ready,” he told her in a rough voice.

His darkened blue eyes raked over her form and Buffy felt a shudder go through her. Just a look had her melting into a pool of needful goo. “What if I don’t want to go?”

He took a visible breath and expelled it shakily. “If you aren’t goin’, then I’m comin’ in. You look absolutely delicious wrapped in my sheets, pet.”

As much as she would love to take him up on his offer (or was it closer to a promise?), she wasn’t ready to go any further than they’d already been and she had agreed to go with Anya today.

“I’d better get ready,” she finally said, pulling back the covers and sitting up.

His lower lip poked out a little into a pout. “That’s a shame. I can think of a much better way t’ spend your time than spendin’ money and tryin’ on clothes.”

“Oh? And what way is that?”

“Well,” he began, his tongue curling up behind his teeth. “First off, instead of tryin’ on clothes, you’ll be takin’ ‘em off.”

Her cheeks reddened in a furious blush. He certainly had that dirty talk thing down to an exact science. Well, two could play at that game.

“What else?”

His eyes widened in shock. Apparently, he hadn’t been expecting her to respond that way. “Don’t roll the dice if you’re not ready for the numbers you get, luv.”

He was warning her to stop before she got in too deep. There was logic to that even though her body was protesting the sudden end of their little game.

Nodding, she stood up and walked over to where he was sitting. “You’re right. I have to get ready,” she told him before kissing him softly on the lips.

She was a fool to think he would let her get away with just a peck. Setting his coffee cup down on the small table next to the chair, he pulled her into his lap. His large hand wrapped itself in her hair and he let his tongue slip into her mouth to caress her own.

“Baby, you don’t have any idea what you’re doin’ t’ me,” he mumbled, breaking the kiss for the slightest moment before latching onto her throat.

His tongue darted out to lick his way down to her collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. A hand came up to cup her small breast and she arched into it. God, he was setting her ablaze, her breath coming out in short pants. A tingling throb settled between her legs and her stomach started flip-flopping.

He brushed his thumb across her hard nipple and she let out a moan. She felt a pressure building up inside her body and she recognized it from the morning before. Soon, she would be exploding into a million blissful pieces.

“Spike,” she whispered in a breathy moan.

Saying his name must have broken his concentration because he looked up at her suddenly. His jaw tightened and he put some distance between them.

“You should get ready,” he told her, his eyes focusing on her shoulder instead of her face.

She frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, kitten. Its jus’ that I can’t seem t’ control myself around you.” He brought his finger up to trace the line of her cheekbone. “Nothin’ that you could do would ever be wrong. So no worries, yeah?”

“Okay,” she replied, then got up and walked to the door. “I’m going to go and take a shower.”

“Sure, luv.”

She gave him a bright smile before bouncing off to the bathroom where she jumped in the shower.

By the time she was finished getting ready, Anya was already waiting for her.

“Hey! You ready to go?” Anya asked, standing up from her seat on the couch.

“Yeah,” Buffy replied, glancing over at Spike who was smiling at her.

As they were about to leave, Spike walked over to her and took her hand. “Here, you might need this.”

Buffy lifted her hand to find several hundred dollar bills. “Oh, Spike, you don’t have to-”

“Enough, luv. Take it and have a great time. I’ll see you when you get back,” he told her. Then he leaned down to her ear and whispered, “Then you can try your pretties on for me, hmm?”



******




She was still blushing as they pulled into the mall’s parking lot.

“What did he say to you?”

“Huh?” Buffy looked over at Anya, who was tapping the steering wheel with her fingers.

“You are bright red, a sure sign that whatever Spike whispered into your ear before we left was naughty,” she said nonchalantly.

It was obvious? Geez, so much for keeping her feelings for Spike a secret. The question was could she trust Anya?

Anya knew she had run away and she got the feeling Spike had filled in at least one of the Harris’ on the details and yet neither Anya nor Xander had made any attempts to call the authorities. But running away from an abusive parent was something most people could sympathize with. Having a relationship with a man eleven years her senior was something that was still quite taboo especially since she was still technically under age.

“I know there’s something going on. You might as well tell me before I try to piece it together.”

“You’re going to think Spike’s a bad guy if I tell you,” Buffy replied, hoping Anya wouldn’t drag it out any farther.

“Trust me, I don’t think my opinion is going to change about Spike. I’ve known him for a few years now, so there’s not too much that you could say that would shock me,” Anya told her.

Well, she did already know something was up and Buffy desperately needed someone to talk to that wasn’t Spike.

“There’s something going on. I don’t know what to call it though,” Buffy admitted.

“Tell me what happened and I’ll figure it out for you.”

Taking a deep breath for courage, Buffy proceeded to tell Anya what had happened the morning before and everything since then. She couldn’t tell what Anya was thinking since her face was expressionless and just when she thought she had made a mistake by telling, Anya laughed loudly.

Uh, that was not the reaction she was expecting.

“So do you want him?” Anya asked bluntly, her eyes full of curiosity.

“Well, I, uh-”

“You do.” Anya finished for her. “Look, Buffy, you’re not a child. You are old enough to make sex decisions for yourself. I’m not saying you should jump on the Spike train, but if you’re ready to be with him that way then do it. If you’re not, then don’t.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Buffy replied.

“That’s because it is. It’s a yes or no kind of a thing. If you are having doubts, then you’re not ready.”

“But he’s so much older than I am and then there’s the whole related thing that-”

“First of all, you aren’t related, so get that out of your pretty little head. Secondly, what does age have to do with anything? I lost my virginity to a guy that worked with my dad and he was way older than Spike is. And I’m three years older than Xander,” Anya told her.

Buffy giggled. “I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Well, whatever. The point is you can’t help who you are sexually attracted to.”

“I thought you were going to say ‘you can’t help who you love’.”

“You can’t, but I didn’t think love had anything to do with it so I didn’t mention it.”

Did love have anything to do with it? She had never been in love before so she wasn’t sure she could tell even if she was.

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t know. How can I tell?”

“Well, if you can’t tell you’re probably not in love or in some serious denial. Trust me, when you do fall in love, you’ll know.”

Hello, vague?! How the hell was that supposed to help her?

“You’re looking at me like you’re confused. Why are you confused?”

Buffy sighed. “I just wish I knew what to do. I mean, we haven’t known each other for very long, but he makes me feel so good. I haven’t had that in such a long time.”

“I know, sweetie. But you’re here with Spike now and you have me and Xander too. Things will work themselves out, you’ll see.” Anya put a hand on her arm.

“I hope so.”

“Now, let’s go blow some money on stuff we don’t need! That always makes me feel better,” Anya said enthusiastically.

Buffy smiled. “Okay”
Chapter 14 by Jaesha
A/N: Hey, I’ve been nominated at Love’s Last Glimpse Awards! Woo-hoo!! The Trouble With Keeping Promises is up for Best WIP, Best Fantasy, Best Spike Characterization, and Best Plot. Thanks to everyone who nominated me.










Buffy followed Anya up the cement steps with handfuls of store bags.

“See, I told you shopping helps clear the mind,” Anya said as they reached the landing.

They had been gone for hours, visited almost every store that the mall had, and not once did her father ever enter her thoughts. Spike seemed to occupy a lot of them though.

“Yeah, I had a great time, Anya. Thanks for taking me,” Buffy replied, setting her bags down so that she could open the front door of Spike’s apartment.

Suddenly, she found herself being bear-hugged by Anya. “You know if you ever need something, you can come to me or Xander. I feel like I’ve finally got that little sister that Mom said would spread her hips.”

Buffy patted Anya’s back hesitantly. “Thanks.” I think?

With one last squeeze, Anya released Buffy and said her goodbyes before going into her own apartment, leaving Buffy somewhat dazed. For the first time in three years, she finally felt like there were people out that who truly cared about her.

She couldn’t ever go back to her father’s, not after her eyes had been opened. There had always been some part of her that questioned whether or not she had deserved the punishments her father had dished out. Maybe if she were more obedient or quieter then he wouldn’t have to hurt her.

But then the part of her that was raised by her mother and later by Giles told her that was complete bull. No one deserved to be beaten or treated badly especially not by their parent. And she had done nothing wrong, yet her father had felt her behavior had warranted his punishments.

There probably wasn’t a person on this planet who she hated more than Hank Summers. Hate was a strong word and an even stronger emotion to be feeling about a father, but she couldn’t express it any better. If she never saw him again, she would be a happy person.

But she was deluded if she thought he would never pursue her.

Well, there went her shopping high.

Opening the door, she dragged her bags into the apartment and set them down by the couch. She heard Spike’s voice from the kitchen and decided to see what he was up to.

“Yeah, two bedroom,” he said into the phone, while leaning over the counter.

Who was he talking to? And what was he talking about? Two bedrooms?

He glanced up at her, a smile easing his serious features. ‘Hi,’ he mouthed, motioning for her to sit down at the kitchen table.

“No, that’s fine. Next Wednesday? That’s great. No, we’ll be ready. Thanks, Mr. Carlisle.” Spike hung up the phone and moved over to the table, pulling a chair out and flipping it backwards before straddling it.

“How was the shoppin’, luv?” He asked.

Was he just going to leave her in the dark or what? She knew that she didn’t have any business prying into his phone calls, but if it had to do with moving she felt kind of entitled to the news.

“It was fun.” Digging into her jeans’ pocket, she pulled out the leftover cash and held it out to him. “I didn’t spend it all.”

He shook his head. “Keep it. I gave it to you, Buffy.”

Looking down at the money in her hand, she contemplated arguing with him. She didn’t really want his money, not if there was a chance he might think that she was trying to take advantage of his generosity. Deciding she was better off doing as he said, she stuffed the money back into her jeans.

“So, that was Mr. Carlisle, my landlord,” he told her, gesturing to the phone.

“Oh?”

He nodded. “Mmhmm. Asked him if he had any two-bedroom units.”

“Spike, I don’t want to make you move just because of me. You can take the bedroom back. I am totally fine with the couch,” Buffy replied.

“No. We need a bigger place, luv. You need your own space.”

Her own space? What did that mean? Maybe he had changed his mind about her and whatever it was that they were doing. Her lengthy conversations with Anya had not even begun to clear up the mystery that was her and Spike. Now, she wasn’t sure that there was a her and Spike.

“I’m fine,” she said vehemently. “Really, you don’t even have to worry about me. I’ll just take the couch and-”

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Her eyes were wide, as if that would help to convince him that she wasn’t losing it. “I am fine. Way fine.”

A corner of his lips lifted into a sideways smile. “Well, I’m not goin’ t’ debate that, but I thought we were gonna try the whole bein’ honest thing. And you’re not really convincin’ me.”

Sighing, she looked down at the table. “It’s just, I don’t want to put you out. You are being way too nice to me as it is. I really don’t need my own space.”

“Maybe not, but I do.”

Her eyes shot up at that, feeling like she had been slapped. Did that mean that she was crowding him? That she was being too needy? Did he not want her around anymore?

“I-I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For causing so much trouble. I’m sorry that I put you in the middle of this.” She could feel the hot sting of tears threatening to escape.

This is exactly what she hadn’t wanted to happen. For him to be stuck dealing with her and her problems when it really wasn’t his responsibility. But he would take care of it because he was a good man whether he wanted to or not and now she felt like a total leech.

Grabbing her hand, he tugged on it a little until she was looking him straight in the eye. “You’re not an…inconvenience. Bloody hell, pet, that’s not what I meant at all.”

She wasn’t sure how she could interpret it any different. He needed his space…away from her. Surely, that meant he didn’t want her around. It was a logical conclusion, in her mind.

“I haven’t lived with someone since before I left for university, luv. And that was almost ten years ago,” he explained. “It’s not going t’ be the easiest transition for me t’ make havin‘ somebody share my space.”

“Oh.” She felt stupid. It would be hard to make room for someone else when you’d lived alone for so long, she supposed. Never having lived alone, she couldn’t really relate, but it made sense.

“You’re here now, Buffy. I’m not tryin’ t’ push you away because there isn’t anywhere on the planet I’d rather you be than right here with me,” he said softly, his thumb coming up to wipe away the wet trail of an escaped tear.

“Okay.”

“It’s been crazy these past few days, I know. And I can’t even imagine what you went through t’ get here, but I’m tryin’ t’ make it good for you. I’m at a bleedin’ loss here, though. So, you gotta work with me if we’re gonna make this thing fly, yeah?”

She nodded, wiping the remainder of her tears away. “Yeah, I’ll try to help, Spike.”

“Good.” Then grinning, he said, “So you gonna show me what you bought?”




******






Glancing at the clock, Spike let out a groan. He had to be to work in an hour and he almost gave into the bad idea of calling in sick, but he quickly dismissed it. Cordelia wouldn’t let him get away with pulling something like that. She’d drive herself over to his apartment and drag him back to work by his ear.

She had done it before.

He had switched shifts with Angel last week and now he was stuck with the early shift for the next several days. The good part about it was that he’d be able to come home a little earlier.

“I’ve got t’ get ready for work, luv,” he told Buffy, watching her frown a little in confusion.

“But it’s only four o’clock. I thought you worked late,” she replied, setting a box of shoes on the floor where she was unpacking her purchases.

“I know, I traded with another bartender. I’m workin’ the five t’ one shift until Sunday.”

“So you’ll be home early then?” Her hazel eyes lit up in excitement.

He chuckled. “Well, as early as one in the morning is, I s’pose. But I don’t expect you’ll still be up an’ about though.”

“No, I will be. I’m kind of a night owl,” she informed him.

Sweet girl.

When she had gone with Anya he’d had a few hours alone to mull over his wild thoughts. The decision to get a bigger apartment was borne out of his time spent thinking about how to give Buffy the environment she needed.

While things were not exactly platonic between them, he knew that the nitty gritty of it was that he was her provider, her protector. And so far, he was doing a piss poor job of giving her what she needed. Mostly he had been thinking about what he needed and that was sliding dangerously into a territory he wasn’t yet ready to explore.

He wanted nothing more than to be with her. To be able to touch her and teach her the ways of pleasure. But he knew that while she was very mature and intelligent, she was still only just sixteen. What kind of provider and protector was he if all he wanted to do was to get her into bed?

No, there more important things. She was more important. Her safety and happiness should be the only things he wanted to give her. So he would try his damnedest to reign in his overactive sexual appetite and be the man she needed.

After showering and getting dressed for work, Spike moved around the apartment gathering his keys and wallet.

“So, I’ll be home around one, then. I want you t’ lock this door behind me and don’ answer it for anyone other than me or Xander and Anya. Got it?”

Her face was quirked up into an expression that could only be described as deeply disturbed.

“What?” He asked.

“You sounded like Giles.”

Uh, yeah. That was slightly disturbing him too. Never in all of the thoughts about being an adult and providing for her had being her father figure ever crossed his mind. In fact, the more he thought about his little pre-leaving speech, the more in made him want to run from the apartment screaming.

“I hadn’t meant it t’ come out that way. I just wanted t’ impart on you the serio-” He threw his arms up in the air. “Buggerin’ hell! What am I doin’? Channeling?”

Buffy giggled. “Yep, I think you are definitely channeling Giles. You sounded just like him.”

He glared at her. “Thanks,” he said sarcastically.

Turning towards the door, he stopped when she heard him call out his name.

“Yeah, pet?”

Before he could stop her, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the lips. His eyes closed at the blissful taste of her mouth and he wrapped an arm around her waist.

She pulled back suddenly and gave him a wide grin. “Have a good day at work.”



******




Pulling up to the back entrance to The Blue Temple, Spike turned his bike off.

He couldn’t get the little pixie back at his apartment out of his head. Just when he thought he had everything under control, she kissed him. This wasn’t going to get any easier, was it?

The club was pretty quiet, most of the staff had yet to arrive, and the only person he saw was Andrew, who was playing with the lighting controls.

“Spike.”

Crap! He was hoping that Cordelia had decided to come in late, but apparently she was early.

“Hey, Cordy!” He said brightly as he spun around to face her.

“Don’t ‘hey Cordy’ me. You have some explaining to do,” she told him, then turned to walk towards her office. “C’mon, the quicker you spill, the less painful it’ll be.”

Right, he thought, following after her. Less painful, my ass.









A/N: Okay, I’m kind of confused. What happened to all of my reviewers? The last chapter had only half of my normal reviewers. Did I go way out in left field with Ch. 13? Or worse, is it getting uninteresting? I hate to be all needy, but I’m feeling like I dropped the ball. ~Jae
Chapter 15 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
A/N: I am overwhelmed. Awestruck. I had no idea how much you guys were enjoying this fic. I mean, I had a little idea, but the response you all gave me after my plea erased all doubts I had about the popularity of my writing. Thank you. Thank you. Words cannot describe it.

So, for you, here’s a brand spankin’ new chapter…Enjoy









Cordelia tapped her long, manicured nails on the desktop. “I’m still waiting…”

It had been a long time since Spike had been in the hot seat. He had forgotten how nerve-racking it could be.

“What do you wanna know?”

Rolling her eyes, she replied, “Quit it with the bad boy attitude. You know what I want to know. Who was that little blond thing and why were you in such a rush to get out of here the other night?”

Spike ran a hand through his carefully slicked-back hair turning it into wild curls. “She’s…”

“Barely legal?”

“What?” Spike asked, his eyes wide with shock.

“Come on, Spike. That girl didn’t look a day over eighteen. In fact, if I didn’t know you so well I would think she was much younger,” Cordelia replied, her tanned arms folding over her ample bosom.

To tell or not to tell. That is the question, mate, he thought.

With Anya and Xander, it had been relatively easy to subtly push over the idea that he and Buffy were more than just roommates. He knew they would be pretty cool with it so he didn’t bother trying to hide it much. But Cordelia was another story.

Cordelia Chase was a ‘my way or the highway’ type of person and normally when someone’s opinion didn’t mesh with her own, she either fired them or tried to convert them to her way of thinking depending on how much potential she thought the person had.

He didn’t know how she would feel about him being involved with Buffy. The thought to lie and say she was just his cousin who needed a place to stay crossed his mind, but the chances that Cordelia would buy it were slim. Number one, he was a rotten liar and number two, she had a way of sniffing out dishonesty.

“She’s not eighteen. She’s sixteen,” he finally said, squinting up at her in anticipation of her outrage.

“I guess I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did, William.”

Aw, shit! Now she was disappointed in him. That was worse than anger.

“Would you rather I have lied?”

“No. But Spike…Jesus! Sixteen? What the hell are you thinking?” She propped an elbow up on her desk and rested her head on her hand.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “It’s absolutely crazy, I know.”

“How did you even meet her?”

“At my uncle’s funeral.”

Cordelia blinked. “You picked up a sixteen year old girl at your- Wait a minute. Your uncle’s funeral was three years ago. That would make her only-”

“Stop! No, it wasn’t like that,” Spike protested.

“Well, then by all means, explain. Because I’m not sure I can even be in the same room with you if you picked up a thirteen year old girl.”

“I didn’t pick her up, Cordelia! She was my uncle’s stepdaughter and she was there at the funeral…” He went on to tell her about the promise he had made to both his uncle and Buffy, then about Buffy being sent to live with her father and the abuse she suffered. “…And that’s when she hopped on a bus and came lookin’ for me.”

“Oh, geez, that’s horrible.” Cordelia shook her head in disbelief.

“Yeah, I know.” He leaned back a little in his chair and let his legs open wide. “She came here that night and that idiot Luke made her sit outside for hours. Who, by the way, we need t’ have a little conversation about.”

“What’s to talk about? I fired him on Tuesday.”

His eyebrows went up. “Really? Why?”

“Besides him pissing off all of my staff and me? He made a lewd comment to Pamela Richards, you know, the senator’s daughter and I got a very angry phone call from the guy.”

Well, damn it if that buggerin’ bastard didn’t dig himself into a hole deeper that Spike could have dug. Senator Kane Richards was a very powerful man not only in his home state of Nevada, but also throughout the whole country and then some. It was rumored that the good Senator had ties to the mob, although, nobody had yet proved it.

If Luke had pissed Richards off, there was a good chance he’d never work in this town again.

“Good, ‘cause I was gonna try and convince you t’ boot the bastard,” Spike said with a grin.

“You wouldn’t have had to try hard. Even without the Senator’s phone call, I was half way to sending that guy packing anyway,” she replied.

It was pretty common for him and Cordelia to be on the same wavelength in regards to what they considered a good employee. There hadn’t been a single person fired yet that Spike thought didn’t deserve what they had coming. She had even sought out his advice regarding the more gray line cases, people who she wasn’t sure about yet.

“So back to Buffy. When did you start sleeping with her?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I stuttered. When. Did. You. Start. Sleeping. With. Buffy?”

“I haven’t slept, well, no. That’s not true. I have slept with her.” He replied, then quickly added, “But not in a sexual way.”

Cordelia shook her head. “Do I look like I was born yesterday? Do I have gullible tattooed on my forehead?”

“No, but you do have that one on your-”

Cordelia’s eyes went wide and she slapped the desk loudly to halt his sentence. “Quit trying to change the subject, Spike. I can tell something happened between you two. You’re acting strange.”

He laughed a little. They had never been involved with each other. Not in a relationship, anyway. A year and a half ago, after Cordelia had been unceremoniously dumped by her fiancé, they’d had a thing. Just one night of wild sex and then it was done. They didn’t speak of it and no one knew about it, but it happened nonetheless.

Which was the reason he knew she had a butterfly tattoo on her left asscheek.

“Spike.”

Sobering at his name, he looked up at her. “Yeah, something happened. And it’s none of your business.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”

“Cordelia, you don’t have an all-access pass t’ my life. What is goin’ on between me and Buffy is just that. Between me an’ her.”

“It’s my business if this get’s out. How is that going to look when people find out I have a pedophile on my payroll?”

“Pedophile?! She’s almost seventeen!”

“Whatever,” she told him as she waved her hands in front of her face. “The point is, she isn’t legal yet and she’s a runaway and I happen to know of Wolfram and Hart. If her father is a partner… You have big problems and I don’t want my good name run through the mud just ‘cause you can’t keep it in your damn pants!”

“What would you like me t’ do, oh Mighty Queen Cordelia? Dump her on the streets? Ignore my feelings for ‘er? That might be easy for an ice-cold bitch like you, but for a normal human being, it’s a bit difficult,” he said through a clenched jaw.

Who the fuck does she think she is?! She had no business telling him what he could and could not do with his life and the people in it. She was his employer, nothing more.

She was silent for a long time and Spike wondered if she was going to come out guns ablazin’ and give him a good tongue-lashing. But when she finally did speak, he was a little taken aback.

“So, you really care for her then?”

His head tilted and his ice-blue eyes narrowed. “You think I would be riskin’ it all if I didn’t?”

Her lips curved into a sharp smile. “Then you know how dangerous this is, right?”

“Bring it on, baby.”



******




Their conversation hadn’t lasted much longer and Spike left her office even more sure that he was doing the right thing than he had been when he’d gotten there.

More people had begun to show up, getting the bar and club ready to roll in an hour. On the weekdays The Blue Temple opened at six to cater to those just-out-of-work customers who got their party started early. They didn’t really get jumping until after eight though when all the crazies came out to play.

Going into the back where the beer coolers and bar stock was, he made his way to the door at the end of the room which led to the bar. The late shift barbacks were responsible for getting the bar stocked and ready to go before the next day’s opening, but lately, they had been doing a rotten job.

And today proved no different.

Nothing was put away, bus tubs were lying haphazardly on the floor, and there weren’t enough clean glasses to take care of even half the customers he would get in the first hour.

“Damn it!”

It was going to be a long night.



******




Damn it had been a long night!

It was only eleven, but it felt like he had been there for days. His normal crowd wasn’t here being replaced by some stupid convention people who didn’t tip worth a damn and didn’t know what they wanted.

Watching a young couple slide their way up to the bar, Spike wanted to puke at their lovey-dovey crap. He was as affectionate as the next guy, but this guy must have been dipped in sugar and rolled in chocolate because he sounded like a fuckin’ girl.

“I love you, cookie,” the guy said lovingly to his girl, who gushed at his words.

“No, I love you.”

“No, I love you. Gosh, I don’t know what I would do without you, Rhonda. You are so important to me. The love of my life.”

Spike rolled his eyes. Grow a pair, you simpering git.

“You wanna order something?” Spike asked, trying to talk over the guy’s wimpy declarations of love.

“Oh, sure,” the guy replied, not looking at him. “She’ll have a Lemon Drop and I’ll have a white wine.”

Spike glanced over at Angel, who was currently turning on the charm with a group of pretty blonds. He grinned at him and made his hand into the shape of a gun before miming a shot in the head and nodding in the direction of Spike’s customers.

Letting out a bark of laughter, Spike shook his head and began pouring the ingredients to the lady’s Lemon Drop.

“Hey, buddy!”

Glaring up at the guy, Spike willed himself to keep his cool. “Yes, sir?”

“How much is that going to be?”

Don’t say it, you dumb bastard, he told himself.

“Hello?” The guy tapped on the bar and Spike felt his reserve break.

“Well, if you have t’ ask, mate, then you can’t bloody well afford it.”

Fuck.

The guy’s face turned red and his girl looked shocked. “Excuse me?”

“You ‘eard me.” Well, he was screwed anyway. There was no way he’d be able to talk himself out of this one so why bother pretending?

The guy glared at him. “I don’t think I like your attitude.”

“Get in line.”

“I want to speak to your manager right now!” The guy’s little fists were in tight balls and his red face had now turned an ugly shade of purple.

Just then Angel walked over. “What seems to be the problem here, folks?”

With an eyebrow raised, Spike looked over at him and tried to contain his grin. They had done this before when one of them had gotten into with a customer. The other would come over and pretend to be the manager to keep Cordelia out of the loop. She didn’t take too kindly to bad customer service.

“Your employee was rude to me,” the guy sputtered out.

Angel nodded objectively. “Is this true, Will?”

“Yes,” Spike replied.

“Well, I’m very sorry about that. How about I take care of your drinks free of charge and then I can deal with Mr. Pratt?”

“That would be good.”

Angel took care of the idiot and his girl before sending them off.

“Spike, you’re off your game tonight,” Angel said as he wiped down the bar where he had made the drinks.

“I know, mate. Just got a lot on my mind.”

“Why don’t you take off for the night? I’ll cover you.”

“Thanks. I owe you.”

Angel scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, about that. I was wondering if you’d do the early shift for me on Sunday too.”

“Who is it this time?”

“Darla,” Angel said was a sheepish grin.

“Darla? You’ve been seein’ her a lot these days. I think you might fancy her a bit,” Spike replied.

With a shrug, Angel threw his towel over his shoulder. “She’s okay. Hot in the sack, though. That girl will do anything.

Spike slapped him in the shoulder before saying goodbye. As much as he enjoyed shooting the shit with Angel, he had better things to do. Like go home to Buffy.

Sneaking out the back, he jumped on his bike and started it up. He slipped his helmet on and tore out of the parking lot.

Thinking of Buffy was partly the reason why he’d been in such a crappy mood. He didn’t like leaving her alone even with Xander and Anya across the hall. If something happened to her, he would never be able to forgive himself.

He turned down his street and zoomed towards his apartment complex. When he had spoken to his landlord, he had been relieved to find out that there would be an available two bedroom apartment in the next building. They would still be close enough to the Harris’s in the event that Buffy needed them and they wouldn’t have far to move all of his stuff.

Parking his bike in the carport, he hopped off and ran up the stairs to his apartment. He opened the door to find the place completely silent.

Guess she’s not as much of a nightowl as she thought, Spike thought with a smile.

Setting his helmet and keys down on the table, he quietly snuck towards the bedroom. He turned the doorknob slowly and creaked the door open only to find the room empty.

“Buffy?” Spike walked into the room, looking around and not finding any sign of her.

His next stop was the bathroom which was also empty. Where was she? He felt himself start to panic when he couldn’t find her in any of the rooms.

Her stuff was still there which meant that she hadn’t run away. But if she hadn’t run, then where the hell was she?

“Buffy!” He spun around the room, trying hard to figure out what was happening. “Buffy! Baby, where are you?”

God, what if her father had found her? The bastard must have taken her and now they were half way back to LA by now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Spike was going to kill him if he hurt her in any way.

Grabbing his keys and leather jacket hanging on one of the dining room chairs, he made a beeline for the door. Stomping his way across the landing he started pounding furiously on Xander’s door.

“Xander! Open the fuckin’ door! He took her!” Spike yelled, kicking the door in frustration. “God, open the door!”

He couldn’t lose her. Not now.
Chapter 16 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
No one was home.

Spike had been standing in front of their door for over ten minutes trying to get someone to answer it, but nobody came. His fear and panic was slowly replaced with a red-hot fury. They had left his girl all alone after they had promised to watch over her and now she was gone.

Gone. And he was fucking wasting his time waiting for a response that would never come while he could have been half way out of the city by now.

Slamming his fist against the wall, he let the anger consume him. He needed it, the adrenaline and push to do what he would need to do once he found her. To cripple the son of a bitch and make sure he would never be physically able to touch her again.

With a roar he jumped down from the landing, his feet hitting the third step from the bottom before bounding across the lawn towards his bike. His fist was scrapped, bruised, and bloody from using the wall as a punching bag and he winced slightly as his hand curled around the grip.

He jumped up and his foot crashed down onto the kick start, the bike coming to life in a wail of metal and gears. Revving up the motor, the sound bounced between the buildings making it seem larger than life.

Putting the motorcycle in gear, he backed it out of the parking stall and swung around to face the exit.

Suddenly, the oncoming lights of a truck blinded him and he held up his hand to shield his eyes.

“Spike?”

Spike squinted against the light to see Xander leaning out of the truck window. “Xander, where the hell have you been?”

Xander shut his headlights off. “I just took the girls out for ice cream.”

Girls. Anya and Buffy. He felt his heart stop and drop to his feet. Fuck, she had been with them the whole time and here he was thinking something horrible had happened to her.

Kicking down his kickstand, he shut the bike off and dismounted it in one swift move. He stomped over to the truck and opened the passenger side door to find Anya and Buffy looking at him as if he were the one-handed hookman come to murder them.

“Get out of the truck, Buffy,” he said in the calmest voice he could muster.

“What’s wrong, Spike?” She asked him, not moving a muscle.

“Get out of the truck!” Spike couldn’t contain his anger as he reached across the seat to grab a hold of her arm.

“Hey, calm down,” Anya told him. “Let me move first before you yank her out of here like a caveman.”

Letting Anya slide out of the truck, he once again took hold of her arm and pulled her out. For a minute all he could do was stand there staring at her, his hands grasping her shoulders tightly.

“Spike, what did I-”

Quickly, he brought her into a strong embrace with his arms banding around her small frame. “I could kill you right now,” he whispered against her hair. “Could bloody murder you for what you just put me through.”

“What did I do?” She mumbled, her mouth pressed against the hardness of his chest.

He held her out at arm’s length and gave her an incredulous glare. “What did you do?! Fuck, Buffy, what was I supposed t’ think when I come home t’ find you gone? No note, no soddin’ phone call, and those two gone as well?”

“Oh,” she replied lamely. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t think about that.”

That shouldn’t have caused his heart to ache, but it did. She hadn’t given him one thought when she’d gone out with Anya and Xander and he was the git who almost died of a heart attack when he found her missing. God, he felt like a fucking fool!

“I see. So you didn’t care that I would come home t’ find you missing? It just didn’t matter,” he told her. The relief he had felt moments earlier was now leaking out of him and being replaced with a strong feeling of betrayal.

Her arms folded over her chest as she spoke in a defensive tone. “No, that’s not it. You told me you wouldn’t be home until one and I knew I would be back before then so I didn’t think to leave a note.”

The admission took the sting out of his pain, but didn’t take it away completely. Her explanation made sense and he knew he was being unreasonably angry with her. Of course, nobody had ever accused him of being rational especially when his emotions came into play.

“It still doesn’t make it right, Buffy. You scared the shit out o’ me. I thought…” he trailed off for a second, his hand running through his hair. “I thought he had gotten you.”



******




She felt like the biggest jerk who ever walked the planet.

How could she have been so thoughtless? With her father looming over them at every turn, Spike was bound to jump to that conclusion when he found her missing from the apartment.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, Spike,” Buffy said, her hand reaching out to him.

He backed away from her reach. “Well, you bloody well should be.”

Dropping her arm to her side, she took the couple steps towards him and grabbed onto his shirt so he couldn’t get away. “I was stupid and I totally didn’t think you would be home. I’m really sorry. I swear it won’t happen again. Please don’t be mad at me, Spike, please.”

Staring up at him, she could see the wheels turning in his head and the internal argument he was having with himself.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, luv,” he whispered hoarsely.

They stood like that for what seemed like a million years before Xander honked his horn and slapped them back into the real world.

“Is everything okay, now? Because as much as I’d like to stay out here and watch as the Buffy and Spike soap opera unfolds, some of us have to get up early and go to work,” Xander told them.

“Xander! Don’t be such an ass,” Anya scolded.

“We’re fine. Just go on home,” Spike said, his gaze never leaving Buffy’s.

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” Xander threw the truck into gear and drove off to park.

Anya was still standing there watching with rapt attention and Spike turned to glare at her. “Is there somethin’ you need, An’?”

“Oh, well, no. I was just making sure there wasn’t going to be a throw down. I love watching people fight and I didn’t want to miss anything good,” she replied.

Spike rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, I think we’re done for now, so why don’t you toddle off like a good little eavesdropper.”

“Do they have memberships to that club?”

“What club?” Spike asked, his tone growing more and more annoyed.

“You know, Assholes Anonymous? I think you and Xander should join,” Anya retorted before sauntering off towards her husband.

Spike looked down at Buffy. “I think she’s got a little too much sass for her own good sometimes.”

Giggling, Buffy said, “Yeah, but its fun to watch.”

After moving the bike back into its spot under the carport and Buffy followed Spike up to the apartment.

“Are you still mad at me?” Buffy asked, sitting down on the couch.

Spike was moving around in the kitchen and he emerged with a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “I’m not mad, luv, just bothered by the fact that you didn’t seem t’ have any concern for my feelings.”

“I do too! I just wasn’t thinking. I never wanted to make you worry like that,” she told him, watching as he took a seat in the recliner adjacent to the couch.

“Hmm.” He took a big swig out of his beer and set it down on the table. “I think we need t’ get something straight then.”

“I promise I won’t ever leave again without you, but I thought it was okay to hang out with Xander and Anya so I didn’t think you would mind.”

Spike shook his head and took a drag of his cigarette. “I’m not tellin’ you that you’re not allowed to go out without me, pet. And you know I don’t have a problem with Xander and Anya takin’ you out.”

“Then what?” She honestly didn’t understand why he was so upset with her now. At first, it made sense, but after he told her that her leaving the apartment wasn’t the issue she was at a complete loss.

He wasn’t looking at her, rather he was studying the burning end of his cigarette when he said, “You’re all I’ve got.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Not only was it vague as far as their conversation went, but she was taken aback by the raw sincerity in his voice.

“You’re all I’ve got, too,” she finally replied.

Instantly, his gaze was on her. “That’s why we’ve got t’ stick together then and you leavin’ me out of the loop when you went with Xander and Anya doesn’t exactly inspire my confidence in us. I’m not your father, Buffy, and I’m not going t’ tell you what you can and can’t do, but in the bloody future you might want t’ remember that we’re in this together.”




******





Spike watched as a tear rolled down her cheek and suddenly he felt like the asshole that Anya had accused him of being.

“Don’t cry, pet. I didn’t mean t’ sound so-”

“No. No, you’re right,” she said as she wiped the tear away. “It was thoughtless and I made you worry when all I had to do was leave you a dumb note.”

He stood up and walked over to her, sitting next to her on the couch and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Buffy, you do understand what I meant, right?”

She nodded. “We’re each other’s family.”

Well, that was close, but not quite what he had meant. He supposed that in a way they were each other’s family, however, his feelings for her went beyond familial ties. She wasn’t his cousin, not in his mind.

Truth was, he couldn’t yet name what their relationship was, but it sure as hell wasn’t something that would be defined by their family tree.

“You know I don’t think of you like that,” he said, almost stumbling over the words in fear of her reaction.

By the expression on her face, he could tell that she didn’t understand what he was saying. If he spelled it out though, there would be no turning back though. He wouldn’t be able to take it back later if things didn’t work out or if she decided that she didn’t want him that way. It would hang there for an eternity once it was vocalized.

“You’re not my cousin. I can’t look at you like that, Buffy, never could,” he tried to explain without actually coming out and saying how much he wanted her.

“Oh, well, I don’t look at you like that either. We’re…friends, right?”

A million things were running through his mind. Normally, he had no trouble just speaking what ever was on his mind, but with Buffy he knew there had to be some caution taken. It was easy to forget how young she was sometimes and even easier to forget that she had yet to experience what went on between men and women.

“We’ll never be friends, luv,” he replied. There, he had finally said it. The other day with her let’s-be-friends speech, he had wanted to tell her then what he thought about it, but he hadn’t been ready to accept what he was feeling for her. And now he couldn’t deny it.

“Then what are we, Spike?”

He took her small, delicate hands in his and turned her so that she was facing him. “We’re together, sweets.”

When she didn’t say anything, he added, “You do want to be together, don’t you?”

“I-I don’t know what that means.”

She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, was she?

“It means that you an’ I are with each other.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You mean, like boyfriend-girlfriend?”

He winced at the terms she used. There hadn’t been a time in his life when he’d had a ‘girlfriend’ and now that it was staring him down in the face, he was a little terrified. Calling someone your girlfriend meant that you were in a committed, exclusive relationship, in his mind. And while that’s what he wanted, the part of him that was a die-hard bachelor was trying to climb out of his skin and slap some sense in him.

No, he wasn’t going to chicken out of this. There wasn’t an alternative.

“Yeah, pet. Boyfriend-girlfriend.”

“Oh…”









A/N: I didn’t have any of you fooled, did I? Darn it! Well, at least I can say my reviewers are smarties. Muchas gracias on all of the great reviews for the last chapter and I’m sorry I kind of left you all hanging for so long. I try and update daily (either this one or Personal Attention) but I lagged off a little this week.

Thanks for sticking with me. All reviews are appreciated so if you feel inclined to do so, I will be more than happy to accept.
Chapter 17 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews…and my apologies for not updating sooner, but I caught a bug and have been on the wrong speed for days. But I seem to be getting over it, so…I have an update for ya. Hope you enjoy. ; - D









“Oh…”

Buffy was rendered speechless. He wanted to be with her, like in a real relationship with all the stuff that went with it. Is that what she wanted?

She looked up at him, his gaze intense as he waited for her to respond with more than just one little ‘oh’. This man, who all at once frightened and excited her, was choosing her. She felt like her heart was going to explode.

“Luv, are you going t’ say something or are you just gonna leave me hangin’? I’m dyin’ here,” he told her.

“Okay,” she replied, nodding. “But does that mean we still have to move into a bigger apartment?”

Spike appeared thoughtful. “I don’t think you’re ready t’ have me share the bed with you, pet. So, yes, I think we’ll still need the apartment.”

“Why do you think I’m not ready?”

“Well,” he began, his eyebrows raised. “If I shared a bed with you, I would want more than just sleep. And I don’t want t’ push you into doin’ something you aren’t ready for.”

He was talking about sex. She didn’t know why that suddenly shocked her considering all that had happened, but hearing him talk about it in the context of their relationship…it was a bit much.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to have sex with him. Ever since the other morning when she had awoken to his touch, it was all she could think about. But he was right, she wasn’t ready.

She hadn’t even had a boyfriend before this unless you counted Tyler Franklin in eighth grade. Spike’s kiss had been her first, his touches her first, and the feelings that he inspired were also uncharted territory as well. Jumping into bed with him when she wasn’t sure that this was even happening probably wouldn’t be the wisest decision.

But that didn’t mean that she didn’t want him to touch her or to kiss her. She hoped that when he spoke of not pushing he wasn’t talking about not being at least a little physical with each other.

Staring up at him, she knew that she had to clear that up before they went any farther with this conversation. She moved up until she was sitting on her knees and then she leaned over to him, her lips mere inches away from his. His warm breath fanned across her face and she could smell the beer and cigarette he’d had earlier.

“What’re you doin’, kitten?” His voice was a husky whisper as his eyes flicked down to stare at her mouth.

“Just making sure that I can do this.” Her lips moved over his slowly, tasting him as her tongue darted out to collect the alcohol that coated his mouth.

Wow, lot of firsts, although secondhand liquor probably didn’t count as true consumption of alcohol.

His large hand rested on her hip and he squeezed roughly as he sucked her tongue into his mouth. She could hear herself whimper as he tilted his head to the side and deepened their kiss. Suddenly, his hand moved from her hip to grab her ass and she squealed loudly, breaking their kiss.

A low chuckle escaped his chest and his arms went around her. In a move that proved just how fast and strong he was, he twisted around and ended up lying flat on his back with her straddling his hips.

“This is exactly why we need separate rooms,” he said with an amused expression on his features.

She could feel something very hard poking her bottom and she wiggled around to try and figure out what it was. At his groan, she froze, realizing at once what exactly it was.

“Is it supposed to be that hard?” She asked more so to herself than to him.

“If it’s workin’ right, it is.”

A warm blush covered her cheeks and she looked away from him. How could she look at him when they were talking about his…his, um…his, you know!?

His fingertips guided her chin back so that she was staring down at him. “Hey, now, none o’ that. Nothin’ t’ be embarrassed about, luv.”

“Easy for you to say! We’re talking about your-” she pointed wildly at where their bodies were joined. “-you know.”

“My cock, you mean?”

She gasped loudly. Did he have to say it like that? Like they were talking about his nose or something. “I-You-Uh-”

“Would it make you feel better if we talked about your-” he made the same gesture to her. “-you know?”

“No! No, I don’t want to talk about that either!” She exclaimed, and then thought for a minute before smirking. “What’s the matter? Don’t you have a word for that too?”

“Oh, no, luv,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve got a lot of words for that. You wanna hear ‘em?”

Yes. “No,” she replied weakly.

His hand came up and his fingers brushed back some of her hair from her face. “There’ll be time for that, but for now, let’s just stick with the basics, yeah?”

“Okay.”




******




It wasn’t just that she was inexperienced that made Spike want to take it slow. He cared for her and their relationship meant more to him than just a quick shag. If he did things right, there would never be a need to question his motives.

His body was ready to go, but it was by sheer willpower alone that he didn’t just flip her over and show her how he truly felt. The things she made him feel were like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He had been with many women and yet not one of them had ever affected him like Buffy could. All she had to do was smile and he was gone.

“You’re mine, baby. And I take care of what’s mine,” he told her, his thumb brushing against her lower lip.

He supposed that, until just now when they had finally defined what they were to each other, he had always felt like she was out of reach. Technically, they weren’t anything before. Not family, not best friends, and he had no claim to her. Now that he had said it out loud, he could sense the change between them.

They belonged to each other.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

He didn’t have to ask what she was frightened of because he, too, feared it. The day when her father would reappear and try to take her away from him. But he wasn’t going to let that happen. Not while he still had breath left in his body.

“Don’t be scared, luv. I’m here.” He tried to sound confident, but the way his voice cracked a little made it less convincing.

Her eyes went wide for a second before she leaned down and stretched herself over his body. His arms wrapped around her slender waist, pulling her tight against her chest.

“Don’t let go.”

“Never. Never let go, I promise,” he said with more conviction. “Never.”



******




Buffy watched with curiosity as Spike shaved the next morning.

He had just gotten out of the shower when she’d knocked on the door and asked if she could hang out while he got ready. A black towel rode low on his lean hips and droplets of moisture dotted his alabaster skin as he stood in front of the mirror.

“How do you do that without cutting yourself? I’m always nicking my legs when I shave,” she said.

A slow grin appeared on his lips. “Oh? Well, I could always do it for you…since I’m so good at it.”

She giggled. “My own personal shave slave. I think I could handle that.”

“Mmm, and I could shave other places as well,” he purred.

“What! I am not letting you shave my head, Spike!” She cried, her hands immediately coming to cover her hair.

He shook his head, laughing, while he set the razor down and walked over to where she was sitting on the edge of the tub. “I wasn’t talkin’ about your head, luv.”

“Then what?”

He raised an eyebrow and glanced down between her legs.

Oh. Ohhhh! He was talking about shaving her…you know. Did guys really like that? She had read in a magazine about women shaving and waxing down there, but she wasn’t quite sure why they felt the need to do that. And what if you missed? Ouch! She couldn’t even shave her legs without cutting herself let alone her…well, you know.

“Wouldn’t it hurt, though?”

“Not if we’re careful. And I’d be very gentle with you, kitten.” His blue eyes were stormy again and letting her gaze slowly drop from his face to his lower body, she realized he was hard again.

“Is…is that something you’d like me to do? I mean, do guys really like it…bare?”

“Well, I do, but some guys prefer it au naturale. It just depends,” he told her. “But since you have problems doin‘ your legs, I think we better leave the job up t’ me, hmm?”

A shiver ran through her at the image of him doing the job and she blushed furiously. The stuff he said…it was so thoroughly naughty, but Buffy couldn’t stop the tinglies that started growing outward from her center and spreading throughout her body.

“O-Okay.”

He smiled and kissed her forehead before going back to his shaving. “What do you feel like havin’ for lunch?”

How could he go from talking about shaving her to food without even giving pause? He was so confident. She could never be like that.

“Sushi.”

His head snapped to the side and he stared at her for a moment. “Sushi? You’ve got t’ be bloody kidding!”

“No, I like sushi.”

“Why on earth would anyone want t’ eat raw fish?”

“It’s not all raw and it’s good for you,” she told him.

He shook his head. “Well, even if I wanted t’ eat raw fish, I wouldn’t have the slightest clue where t’ go.”

“Anya told me of a really good place that she likes.”

“Oh, so I have Anya t’ thank for this, eh?”

“C’mon, Spike. Please.”

With a sigh he said, “And if I needed further proof that I’m truly whipped…fine, we’ll go.”


******



Spike looked down at his plate in horror.

“I thought you said this stuff wasn’t raw,” he said, turning to Buffy, who was rubbing her chopsticks together.

“It’s not.”

“It looks bloody raw t’ me.” He poked at one of the little pieces with the end of his chopstick.

“Stop that! Quit being such a baby,” she told him.

He pouted. “But what is it? I refuse t’ eat anythin’ I can’t identify.”

Rolling her eyes, she pulled his plate closer to her. “This is ebi, cooked shrimp. That’s unagi, eel with a sweet sauce. And this is a California roll, crab and avocado. It’s all cooked, Spike.”

“And the green stuff?”

“Wasabi.” She took a piece of the wasabi in her chopsticks and dropped it in his bowl of soy sauce. “Here, it’s easier if you eat it this way.” She mixed the wasabi and soy sauce together.

“Can I have a fork?”

The sushi chef, who had been watching them in amusement, handed Spike a fork and nodded his head in encouragement.

Spike stabbed a piece of…what had she called it? It looked like shrimp. He dunked it in the light brown mixture that Buffy had made and stared at it for a moment before popping it in his mouth. It tasted…

“Wow! This is bloody fantastic!” He moved around his plate and tried a different type and had the same reaction.

“See, I told you it was good.” Buffy smiled at him and he could do nothing but return it.

“Where’d you learn t’ eat this stuff ‘cause I know Rupes would never touch it?”

“My stepmother is a huge health food freak. Sushi is probably the only thing she ever made me eat that I liked,” she replied, taking a drink of her tea.

They hadn’t really discussed her father’s new wife. He knew that Buffy didn’t like her, but he didn’t know if she was involved with the abuse Buffy had suffered through. And while he wasn’t down with hitting women, if she had laid a finger on his girl, he would find someone who didn’t give a damn what sex she was.

“Tell me ‘bout her.”

“Not much to tell. She made my life hell.”

“Did she hurt you?”

Buffy looked over at him and Spike knew the answer before she said it. “No. But she didn’t have a problem with my father doing it, so she’s not much better as far as I’m concerned.”

Spike nodded in agreement. How anyone could stand by and allow someone to hurt another when that person didn’t even deserve it, was beyond him. He couldn’t imagine not doing anything to stop it. Just sitting there and watching as a father beat his child. It wasn’t right.

So, Buffy’s stepmother was now on his shit list as well. Right below her bastard father.
Chapter 18 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
A/N: Thankies for the reviews on the last chapter. Hope you all enjoy this one…if you do, you could always, you know…drop me a line. ; - ) Oh, and this one is kinda long. Now, read on! ~Jae







Buffy stared at Spike’s closet and sighed. How she had gotten volunteered to pack for the move, she didn’t know. Well, the joke was on him anyway because she was a horrible packer.

She didn’t think she’d ever met a man who had this much clothes before. Hanger after hanger held everything from three-piece suits to leather jackets to silk shirts in every color. He had stacks of sweaters and jeans piled on shelves lining the closet walls. And she didn’t even want to think about all of his shoes.

Even though he seemed to be a clothes addict, she couldn’t help but to be impressed. The guy did dress very well, always stylish in whatever he wore. If he looked so good in jeans and a t-shirt, she wondered what would happen if he dressed up.

Sighing, she started pulling out his clothes to put them in a box next to her. They smelled like him with the faint scent of cigarettes and soap and something so purely Spike that it could never be duplicated.

Their relationship hadn’t progressed much in the few days since he had told her they were together. Mostly they just enjoyed each other’s company, watching movies on television and trying out new restaurants. It was going at a slow pace and even though her body was screaming for more, she was glad that he wasn’t pushing her.

It was all new to her. Back in LA, her father hadn’t let her date. She’d had a few offers, but she turned down every one. There was no way she could have snuck around him since he seemed to always have his finger on her, always knowing where she was and what she was doing.

Coming to live with Spike, things hadn’t made any more sense than they had when she was in the thick of it. If anything, she was more confused.

Just by appearances, Hank Summers hated his daughter. Even when they were out in public, which was seldom to never, he treated her like the red-headed stepchild. There was no warmth shared between them and Buffy couldn’t explain why, then, he always wanted to know where she was.

He shouldn’t give a damn. He shouldn’t always have his eyes trained to her. If he despised her so much, he should have just let her go.

It was a crazy and stupid notion, but since he hadn’t come after her yet, maybe he wouldn’t come at all. Maybe he figured she wasn’t worth the trouble and had given up. She only wished she knew, then she wouldn’t have to always be afraid and she could enjoy her time with Spike.

Pulling down a box from the top shelf, she jumped back when a pile of photographs splashed at her feet. She set the box down and kneeled to gather them up. Who were these people? One she recognized as Spike mother, but the others… She picked up a black and white picture and studied it. The man in it looked just like Spike minus the bleached blond hair. Maybe it was his father?

She felt bad for looking through his things, but it wasn’t as if she were snooping. He had asked her to start packing his stuff so he knew that she was going to find things like pictures and other personal items.

Frowning, she stacked the pictures on the table in the corner next to the red chair, still not happy with herself for prying. If he wanted her to see them, he would show her. As curious as she was, she refused to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. It had happened enough times to her that she knew exactly how he would feel. Betrayed and violated.

The doorbell rang and Buffy jumped a little almost as if she were caught doing something naughty. She padded across the floor to the door and looked out of the peephole.

“Hi, Anya,” she greeted after opening the door.

Anya swept in with a handful of bags. “You and I are having a girl’s night in.”

“Where’s Xander?”

Anya rolled her eyes. “He’s at some stupid bachelor party.”

“Doesn’t that worry you? I mean, if Spike went out to a strip club-”

“He’s not at a strip club,” Anya sighed. “He’s at some guy’s house and apparently because of the groom-to-be being super religious, all they are doing is drinking fruit punch and watching PG-13 rated comedies.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know, I was disappointed too. I thought, ‘hey, great, he’ll go watch women take off their clothes and then he’ll come home to me for orgasms’. But no, if anything, he’ll come home and be so bored stiff that he’ll just sleep,” Anya replied, setting her bags down on the coffee table.

“So, it wouldn’t bother you if he went and saw strippers?”

God, if she thought Spike did that, it would just kill her.

“No, why would it?” Anya tilted her head in curiosity.

She felt stupid and ignorant. Why was it that she didn’t know these things? “I don’t know. Maybe because he would be looking at other naked women that wouldn’t be you.”

Anya considered that for a minute before saying, “No, I’d be alright with that. As long as he came home to me and didn’t do anything with them other than watch.”

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t think I could.”

“That’s alright. A lot of women would have problems with that too.”

Buffy watched Anya start to pull items from her bags. Makeup, magazines, DVDs, clothes, and…okay, what the hell was that?

“Um, Anya? This might be a dumb question, but what is that and why does it look like a…a, um…”

“Penis?”

Were Spike and Anya separated at birth or something?

“Yeah,” Buffy replied nervously. “Why is it stuck to the table?”

Anya bent down and pulled it off the glass tabletop. “Suction cup. I just got it the other day, isn’t it neat?”

Uh… “Sure, I guess. Why did you bring it?”

Shrugging, Anya regarded the purple silicone piece. “What’s a girl’s night in without a dildo?”

Being that Buffy had never had a girl’s night in or out before, she wasn’t quite sure if it was standard party equipment or not. She would just have to follow Anya’s lead.

“What do we do with it?”

“Stare at it, poke it, slather whipped cream on it and pretend it belongs to Sean Connery.”

“Ew! Anya! He’s old!”

With a huff, Anya plopped down on the couch. “You shouldn't be talking. Spike is like how much older than you? Besides, Sean is a hottie and ruggedly handsome.”

“Okay, I think I can safely say that Spike is nowhere near being as old as Sean Connery and again…eww!”

“You would do him if you met him in person,” Anya accused, pressing the dildo back onto the table.

“Somehow I doubt that.”



******




Anya put the finishing touches on Buffy’s makeup and stood back to survey her work.

“You look really good made up.”

Buffy turned to look at herself in the mirror. She did look good! Anya was like a pro or something. Her skin glowed golden and a pink flush accentuated her cheeks. A smoky gray outlined her eyes which brought out their green color hidden in hazel depths and her lashes curled up, thick and voluminous. Anya had plucked her eyebrows, which had been kind of bushy and crooked before, but were now pronounced arches.

“Wow! I don’t even look like me anymore,” Buffy said in awe.

“I’m guessing your dad didn’t let you have makeup.”

Buffy shook her head. “I never asked. But he probably would have said no anyway.”

“You should leave it on until Spike gets home. Might spark a little physical activity,” Anya told her, shoving the makeup into the little zipper bag.

The blush mixed with her embarrassment and made her face turn red. “Anya! He is not going to jump me just because I have a little makeup on.”

“You have a lot to learn about men if you think he won’t.”

They moved into the living room and Anya popped in a romantic comedy, and then started going through the bags again.

Buffy eyed Sean the Dildo which seemed to be glaring at her. After twenty minutes of coaxing from Anya, Buffy could now say the word out loud. Not that it would come up in normal conversation, but at least she could say it to Anya without blushing.

“Do you use them?”

Anya looked up at her then to Sean. “Yeah, but not that one ‘cause it would be really gross to let you play with it after I had.”

“Yuck! Anya, that is disgusting!”

Her brows furrowed. “What? That I use them?”

“No, that you- nevermind.”

“Oh, well, you can have this one. I’ve got many at home.”

“What am I going to do with it?” Buffy asked, her eyes wide.

Anya shrugged. “I don’t know. Have Spike show you how to use it.”

Oh. My. God! Did she just tell me to have- No!

“I couldn’t do that!”

“Sure you could. Just ask. He’ll do it for you,” Anya told her nonchalantly.

Well, maybe Anya had no problems with asking her husband to use it on her, but Buffy could not say the same. She and Spike didn’t even talk about doing the other stuff let alone bringing in props. Was Anya out of her mind or did she just fail to realize that Buffy had little to no experience with this whole sex thing?

“I’ve never…you know…with a guy, Anya.”

“I know.”

She knew. She knew? Then why was she acting like it would be so easy for Buffy to ask such a thing?

“You should just get over your shyness and ask Spike to teach you. I think you’ll find him a more than adequate teacher,” Anya said, popping a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“What does that mean?

Anya’s eyes went wide and she turned her body to face Buffy’s. “Nothing. Nothing. Just that he has enough experience to know what he’s doing.”

Somehow, Buffy was finding it hard to believe her. It wasn’t that Anya lied a lot, but the way she had said it made Buffy think there was more to the story than she was willing to tell.

“I know he has been with women before me, Anya.” Hoping that would coax Anya into saying more, Buffy waited.

“This is that thing Xander is always telling me not to do. It’s not my place to tell you about Spike’s love life,” Anya replied.

“You brought it up!”

Wait a minute, Buffy. Isn’t this the exact same thing as looking through his things? It’s not your business. If he wants to tell you, he will, she told herself, trying to calm down.

“I’m sorry, Anya,” Buffy said, feeling lousy for yelling at her only girl friend for something so ridiculous.

Anya was quiet for a while, watching the movie instead of answering her. “If it helps, I think he really does care for you. That’s not something that happens everyday for him,” Anya finally responded after several minutes.

It did help a little. From her observations and what he had told her, Spike didn’t seem to have many friends. Anya and Xander knew Spike pretty well since they had lived across from each other for four years and Spike had referred to them on a few occasions that they were his friends. That’s why when Anya said things like that, Buffy genuinely believed her.

She could hear footsteps coming up the stairs and Buffy figured it was either Spike or Xander. Either way, their little girl’s night in had come to an end.

There was a knock at the door. It was Xander. And Anya didn’t stay more than a few more minutes while she gathered up her things, much to Buffy’s disappointment.

“So, you can keep the makeup and stuff. We should do this again, right?” Anya asked as Buffy walked her to the door.

“Yeah.”

Anya smiled and pulled her in for a hug. “You’re my favorite girl, Buffy.”

With a laugh, Buffy bid her farewell and closed the door behind her.



******




It was one-thirty when Spike finally dragged himself into the apartment. Saturdays were always rough with the constant stream of patrons and never-ending drink orders.

He smelled like he had just bathed in alcohol for eight hours, which is pretty much what he had done. Bartending was a dirty job, but it paid well if you knew what you were doing. And Spike was pretty good at it.

The lights in the living room were on and he immediately went searching for Buffy. He found her in the bedroom, packing away.

“Hey, luv,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb.

She jumped a little at his voice and she turned to face him.

Holy fuck! What had she done to herself? Hello, meow, sex kitten is on the prowl! And boy, did he like it.

“You scared the crap out of me, Spike,” she replied, breathing hard.

“What can I say? I’m the big bad, baby.”

She gave him a roll of her eyes and leaned over to fold the box flaps in.

God, she was killing him! “So, what’s with the makeup?”

Her expression turned worried and she bit her lip, effectively eating off some of the cotton candy-colored lipstick that had made her look sugary sweet. “I told Anya you wouldn’t like it.”

Ah, so Anya had come over, that explained it.

“I never said I didn’t like it, kitten. Just wondered why you went all glittered up,” he replied, walking into the room and stopping in front of her.

“So, you do like it?”

His hand came up and brushed against her soft cheek. “Oh, fuck, yeah. You look good enough t’ eat.”

She blushed at that and Spike stared at her in wonder. He would never get over how innocent she was. The women he’d been with before had been used and jaded, but this girl- no, woman that stood before him was a fresh combination of pureness and intelligence. He was a lucky man and if he were entirely honest, he knew he didn’t deserve her.

“Can I taste you?” He asked in a low tone and Spike watched as a shiver ran through her body.

“Yes,” she replied in a whispered hush, looking up at him shyly.

He brought his mouth down to rub against hers, but he didn’t linger, instead choosing a path to her ear and down her slender neck. His tongue tasted the saltiness of her skin and he held back a groan, not wanting to hear anything but the sound of her shallow pants.

With one hand, he slid under her t-shirt and felt the hot skin of her belly burning him. He let his tongue lick down to her shoulder and then traced her collarbone, leaving her skin wet from his kisses. His fingertips brushed the underside of her breast that he was shocked to find naked without the barrier of a bra.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to settle for just a kiss, he lifted her up into his arms and walked towards the bed. He sat her down on the edge of the bed and kneeled down in front of her, taking her small hands into his.

“If you want me t’ stop, just tell me, yeah?”

“Okay,” she said in response.

With a deep breath, he pulled his gaze away from her face and let it slowly travel downward to the hem of her shirt. He fingered the bottom for a minute before lifting it up and pulling it off of her body.

She gasped and covered herself with her hands.

“Buffy, do you want me t’ stop? I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he told her, willing his attention back to thinking straight.

Shaking her head, she looked down to her lap when she said, “I don’t want you to stop.”

He closed his eyes to get a barring on his raging emotions. Bloody hell, he wanted her, but this he would have to take slow.

His hands went up to cover hers and he gently pulled her arms away, revealing her to him. She was perfect. Not too small, not too large, just high and full with roundness. Her skin was golden all over, he noted as he just stared at her, taking in her beauty.

“Why are you staring at me? Do they look wrong?”

“No, baby, they are perfect. Just like you,” he reassured her.

Leaning forward, he let his tongue touch her stomach and he felt a deep-seated male pride surge at her little mewl. He tongued her bellybutton, but quickly stopped when she began to giggle. There was time for fun later, right now, there wasn’t anything more serious than the way he was going to make her feel.

He let his hands slide up her sides, his thumbs positioned next to her little pink nipples. A slow lick between her breasts quieted her laughter and he moved a hand to cup her breast, squeezing it and feeling its weight. He blew warm air against the nipple and she arched her back involuntarily.

“Bet you taste like raspberries and cream. Wanna find out,” he breathed into her skin before letting his lips close over her pert nub.

Her hips jerked in response and he leaned her backwards onto the mattress, wanting to feel her under him. His body fell between her thighs, her heat soaking through their clothes to burn him. He continued to suckle her, letting his tongue flick over the nipple every now and then. With his free hand, he grabbed onto her other breast and pinched her lightly.

“Oh!” She exclaimed at the sensation.

Moving his hips, he let himself grind against her center and she moaned.

“Mmm, kitten. Can feel you. So hot and wet for me. Wanna make you come so bad,” he said thickly.

“Please…” She whimpered, lifting her hips to crash against his.

Fuck! Did she know what she was asking for? No, no, he could do this. He could restrain himself and give her pleasure. This time would be all for her.

He trailed a hand down to rest in the button on her jeans and he popped it open, sliding the zipper down. A startled gasp escaped her lips and he stalled his movements.

“Don’t worry. Gonna make you feel so good, luv. So fuckin’ good.”

When she made no further protests, he let his hand slip into her pants and he cupped her cotton-covered pussy. She writhed against him as he flexed his hand around her and it wasn’t long before he was diving under the barrier of her panties, feeling her wet and soft center.

“Do you remember when I did this the other morning, baby? How good it made you feel? God, you are so ready for me.” His lips found her nipple again as he glided his fingers over her.

“Spike…” Her hands grabbed onto his hair, making Spike’s eyes roll back into his head.

His middle finger dipped into her as his thumb rubbed her clit in quick circles. Soddin’ hell, she was tight. The internal muscles of her pussy squeezing his finger as he moved it in and out, a shallow penetration, but enough to let her feel him.

Her body was becoming more and more tense and he knew instinctively that she was going to come soon. When she was almost over the edge, he bit down on her nipple and she screamed in release.

A slick heat covered his hand and suddenly, he couldn’t stop himself from bringing it up to his mouth and sucking on two fingers. Sweet and tart at the same time, it was bloody delicious.

Buffy was breathing hard as he looked down at her. “You okay, sweets?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she replied slowly, nodding her head.

He let out a low chuckle. “Good. Do you mind if I hop into the shower, luv? I smell like a bloody brewery.”

“No,” she giggled. “Go ahead.”

He kissed her hard, grinding himself against her, before getting up and sauntering off to the bathroom.

Okay, it was true, he did smell horrible, but the real reason he was running off was to take care of himself with a good wank in the shower. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to stay with her and cuddle-

“Hold up, mate. Did you just think about cuddling?” He asked himself as he stared into the mirror. “Bloody git.”

The urge to cuddle a woman post-coital had never wandered into his mind, ever. Well, not until now, at least. But he figured Buffy was different. She was his girlfriend and not just some tart he’d picked up on the way home. She deserved to be cuddled and loved.

Loved? Did that just pop into his mind as well? Guess the sexual tension had really done a number on him. Made him delirious. It was the only explanation for it.
Chapter 19 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
A/N: Sorry about the delay. I was having a little writer’s block with this one. It just wasn’t flowing right and it seemed like a waste of time to try and force it. But here’s a new chapter. I hope it meets with your approval.

And thanks for all the great reviews! Although, I should have realized that Sean would have been the star of that last one. I’m guessing from the reviews that you’d like him to become a permanent character…? We’ll see. ; - ) ~Jae








Basking in the afterglow of her orgasm, Buffy lay sprawled across the bed. Her body was still trembling from the amazing sensations Spike had created within her. And she couldn’t feel her toes.

If anyone had told her a week ago that she would be wantonly spread across a man’s bed, she probably would have laughed at them. This kind of behavior wasn’t anything she’d participated in before and for the most part, hadn’t wanted to.

There were girls who went to her school in LA that were known for bed-hopping and the general consensus was that they were sluts and lower members of the high school social heirarchy. Once she had thought the same, but now she wasn’t so sure that she was much different than those girls.

This wasn’t the sort of thing that good girls did. Her mother was probably turning in her grave at her wild behavior. Even while she was ashamed of what she was doing, she couldn’t stop the feelings that urged to do more.

It wasn’t as if she were just jumping into a stranger’s bed. It was Spike. Her boyfriend. And it was okay to have sex with your boyfriend, wasn’t it?

Some of these crazy thoughts were direct results of her self-doubt. She was only sixteen…okay, almost seventeen…but Spike was a full-grown man. Boy, is he. What could she possibly have to offer him that he couldn’t get somewhere else?

It was true, she was jealous. Jealous of all the women that he’d had before her. Jealous of Cordelia, who it seemed held a special place in Spike’s heart. Jealous of any woman who could offer him what she was unable to give.

That is why Buffy suddenly decided that if Spike would have her, she would offer him what he wanted. Sex. The whole thing. She couldn’t lose him and if this was the only way to keep him, she would do it.

The sound of the shower brought her out of her haze. He would be naked in there, all wet and soapy. Of course, she had to imagine a little since her visual knowledge of the male body was lacking, but there was a fuzzy outline along with…hey! His thing is probably not purple. Try again, Summers

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to picture him standing underneath the spray of hot water. The water rolling off his skin and pooling at his feet. She knew what his feet looked like, so that was easy enough. And his chest, she knew what that looked like too.

Below the belt…that was another story. She had felt it enough times to get the general shape and size, but really, she had no clue what he looked like there.

Her modesty shelved, she got off the bed, still topless with her jeans undone, and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom. Putting her ear to the door, she listened for any sounds before turning the doorknob slowly.

The bathroom was already filled with steam, making the air opaque. She froze for a minute. What the hell was she doing?! Was she really seriously thinking about getting into that shower with him?

Yes.

She slid her jeans and panties down her legs and stepped out of them, piling them in the corner. Her feet slapped softly against the tiled floor as she made the short distance to the bathtub. Staring up at the shower curtain, she could see the shadowy outline of his body.

Grabbing the edge of the curtain, she slid it over a little. It was now or never. Once she was in, there would be no turning back. She took a deep breath and stepped into the tub, one foot then the other.

His back was turned to her and it was obvious that he hadn’t heard her. The muscles in his back were working as if he was scrubbing furiously and she stood in wonder for a second before sliding forward and running her hands up his back.

“Bloody fuck!”

He jumped so high, Buffy though he might fall out of the tub. His elbow knocked the shower caddy down, bottles and soap clattering to the bottom of the tub. He had cornered himself against the tile and was holding onto the wall for support.

“Buffy?” His tone suggested more than just surprise. Maybe confusion?

“Uh, hi?” She offered, raising her hand in a little wave.

He seemed to be gaining his senses again and he pushed himself away from the wall. “What’re you doin’ in here?”

It occurred to her that maybe this had been a very bad idea.

“I thought you might want some company?” It was supposed to come out in a sensual rasp, but it sounded more like a timid question than anything else.

He ran a hand through his wet platinum hair. “Geez, luv, warn a bloke next time. You scared the shit out o’ me.”

Suddenly, Buffy felt very naked just standing there and she moved to cover her breasts. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Just startled me, is all.”

She made the enormous mistake of letting her gaze drift away from his face and down the length of his body. Oh my god! He’s huge! Well, she thought he was. She didn’t have much to gage from, just Sean. And she didn’t have a measuring tape with her, but she could guess they were close to the same size.

“See somethin’ you like, pet?”

His voice zapped her back to reality and her eyes shot up to his face. “I-uh-that’s-uh-”

“What are you doin’ in here? The truth now.” His expression had gone from Sexy Smirk Spike to Serious Frown Spike in a matter of milliseconds.

Did he always have to call her out like this? Couldn’t he just let her and it go? A minute later, his expression hadn’t changed and Buffy got her answer.

“I thought you might wan…” Her voice trailed off into a whisper.

He put his fingers behind his ear. “Say it again, luv. Didn’t catch all of that.”

“I thought you might w-want to have s-sex with me.” There she said it. Oh crap! She’d said it.




******




Spike’s blue eyes widened, her words sinking in too slow to process all at once. He had just gotten to assimilating ‘sex’ when he realized what she had just said.

“Buffy, I…” What the hell did he say to something like that? He was flittering between ‘hell yes’ and ‘hell no’, but neither were the right answer.

This was delicate at best. Her confidence was little to none and he worried that if he turned her down, she would get hurt. That didn’t mean he wanted to throw himself at her either since that would do just as much, if not more, damage.

The water was turning cold and he reached behind him to turn the faucets off. Sticking a hand out of the shower, he grabbed the towels on the rack and brought them in.

He handed one to her and he could see the disappointment on her face. “Luv, we need t’ talk and I’d prefer not t’ do it standin’ in here, freezin’ my bits off. Dry off and get some clothes on.”

His intention hadn’t been to hurt her feelings by his abruptness, but if he had to be in that shower for one more second, looking at her gorgeous naked body, he was going to snap. And that would make what he needed to say to her meaningless.

Picking up his clothes, he stalked off to the bedroom to throw on something a little less Eau De Hennessey. Buffy must have followed him because a minute later, she moved silently across the room to pick up her shirt.

He waited out in the living room for her, sitting on the couch and trying to collect his thoughts. There was so much to say and so much he could bollocks up if he wasn’t careful.

Looking up, he watched as she came over and sat down on the other end of the couch. She was acting like he was angry with her, like she was afraid. And he didn’t like that one bit. He stood up and sat down next to her, grabbing her chin.

“Buffy, why are you afraid of me?” He knew his tone was too strong and that he was probably reinforcing what ever fear she had of him, but dammit, he wasn’t going to hurt her. She needed to get that through her head.

“I’m sorry.”

Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath, his head tilting backwards. He didn’t know how to handle this. That son of a bitch father of hers had conditioned her to assume all the blame even when there was nothing to blame.

His rage was boiling again. The red film coated his vision and his fists clenched tightly. Cool it, mate. You’re gonna scare the girl off if you don’t get a hold of yourself.

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m not angry, so please, Buffy, don’t cower away from me like that,” he told her, his voice softening.

“Sorry.”

Before he could stop himself, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in for a bruising kiss. He could feel all of his emotions draining out of him, pouring into the kiss and making it more intense than he’d ever experienced before.

Pulling back, he struggled to catch his breath. “Buffy, don’t ever think I don’t want you. You don’t know how hard it is for me t’ hold back sometimes.”

Her brow wrinkled. “Then why did you not want to-”

“Because, luv, you’re not ready. We’ve talked about this,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too stern. He was her boyfriend, not her bloody father. No, never her father.

“But if it’s what you want, then I want to give it to you,” she replied. Her eyes were glassy and he could see her tears floating behind her eyelids.

“Kitten, it should never be about what I want. What do you want? Do you want me t’ take your virginity right now? ‘Cause that’s what would happen. Are you ready for that?”

It didn’t take her long to bit her lip and shake her head in the negative. “No.”

He nodded. “I figured that. Now, you wanna tell me where this came from?”

“It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. You trust me, don’t you?” At her nod, he continued. “Then let me in.”

She didn’t look at him when she began to speak. “I can’t give you what you want. Why do you even want to be with me if I can’t give that to you? Maybe there is someone else out there that could make you happy.”

God, is that what she thought?

“Luv, you do make me happy. You don’t need t’ give me sex t’ make me happy. And there is no one out there I’d rather be with than you,” he told her, amazed at the truthfulness of the statement.

“What about Cordelia?”

“What?”

“Cordelia. You talk about her all the time, maybe you’d rather be with her,” she said, her voice gaining strength.

He tried to hold it in, but the laughter just came bursting out on its own. “Cordelia is nothing more than a friend, if you’d even call her that. I don’t have any interest in having a relationship with her. Never have, never will.”

“Then why do you talk about her so much?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I hardly think that my brief statements about the woman are enough to garner the ‘so much’ or ‘all the time’. But even if I did, it would be because I see the woman practically everyday. Bloody thorn in my side, she is.”

“So you have no interest in having sex with her, then?”

Oh, shit. He knew he was going to regret telling her this, but if he wanted any sort of serious relationship with this girl, he would have to ‘fess up. She would find out sooner or later, they always did.

“I don’t now. But I’m not going to lie t’ you, Buffy. We were together at one point.”

He saw a myriad of emotions play on her face and he was beginning to regret his whole truth-is-better theory.

“She was your girlfriend?” Buffy asked worriedly.

“No! Never my girlfriend and we only had sex once,” he reassured her.

“And that makes it okay?”

This was backfiring on him. He felt like he was shooting his own foot now. “No, but she didn’t mean anything t’ me.”

Buffy’s mouth dropped open. “And what about me? Do I mean anything or am I just another one of your floozies?”

Shit! The ship was sinking. Wee-Woo! Wee-Woo! Abandon ship!

“If you were one of my floozies, I would have shagged you by now!”

The slap she delivered to his face played out in slow motion. Bloody hell, that hurt!

Just as he was about to lose it, he looked at her. Her hand was covering her mouth and her green eyes were wide in shock.

“I-I’m so sorry,” she breathed out.

His head shook furiously. “No. It was my fault. I went too far.”

“But I shouldn’t have hit you.”

“Yes, you should have. I needed some sense knocked into me.”

And her slap had done just that. He was getting mad at her because he was a dog, sleeping with anyone who struck his fancy. If the tables had been turned around, he knew he would have been furious to know that she’d been with so many men. He was the asshole, not her.

“Buffy, here it is. A relationship isn’t all about sex and what we have is so much more than just a roll in the hay. I’m willin’ t’ wait for you because I care about you. There is no one and I mean, no one, that I would rather be with than you. Not Cordelia, not some girl at the club, no one. Just you, baby. Only you.”

She was grinning and he wondered suddenly if she had the intention of smacking him again. But instead of smacking him, she shocked the hell out of him and kissed him.

“You really care about me?”

“Of course, I do. You’re my girl.”

“I really l-”

Please don’t say love. Please don’t say love.

“-ike you too.”

Bloody hell, that was a close one.
Chapter 20 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
A/N: Here’s a new chappie for you. I appreciate all the comments on this fic and I’ll try hard to keep it going. Just keep those reviews comin’…let me know I’m not totally ruining it. ; - )

And this one is for my girls at LJ: cordykitten, niamh, and smudgiboo. Thanks for keeping my spirits up. You guys are the best! ~Jae













Spike watched as Buffy munched happily on her grape jelly toast, a smile curving his lips. Was it possible for her to get any more adorable?

“So, when’s your friend coming?” She asked, flipping through the paper for the horoscopes.

“’Bout ten.”

He had roped Angel in to helping them move today. It wasn’t hard since Angel owed him several favors and he was currently on the outs from his ladies. Apparently, they all found out about each other and had kicked his butt to the curb. Not that it would last long since Angel could charm the pants off of any female that had half an interest in him.

“Well, I’m done packing except for some stuff in the bathroom. So, it shouldn’t take long for me to get the rest in boxes,” she told him.

What had been a simple request to pack some of his things in the closet had turned into a full-blown pack job. He had never asked her to do it all, but one day he had come home to find everything in boxes. There was no doubt in his mind that she felt obligated to do it in return for allowing her to stay with him.

Which was complete bull because he had no intention of making her work for her room and board. He wanted her there, not needing anything in return but her sweet smile.

After their talk the other night, she had seemed happy and content. She didn’t realize, though, how hard it had been for him to admit that he cared for her. Thank God, she wasn’t trying to push for more like some women might have. He wasn’t ready to delve into those feelings quite yet.

It had been a long time since he’d even thought about love and even then it wasn’t in the context of a woman. Well, not a woman he would date anyway. Just before his mother had passed away, he had told her he loved her. That was the last time.

In any case, the women he dated weren’t looking for love. They wanted a wild night or cash or just a warm body to heat their cold hearts. He had been accused of using women, but the truth was, those women had been just as guilty as he was.

He could tell Buffy wanted to ask about them. Sometimes he would look over to find her staring at him with curious eyes. True to male form, he wasn’t going to volunteer the information. If she asked though, he would try to be as honest as possible. Some things she wouldn’t want to know even if she thought she did.

All he really wanted was a clean slate with her. A chance to be the man she needed, to be a good man who could love and care about her. Of course, that would take some work and a lot of trust on his part.

She would be so easy to love if he could just let himself.

“We should get a pet.”

Spike looked up from the newspaper, his coffee cup suspended inches away from his mouth. “A pet?”

She smiled brightly. “Yeah, you know, a kitten or a hamster named Bob.”

“How ’bout a fish?”

Her little nose scrunched up. “Eww! Fish are not cuddly, Spike.”

“If you want t’ cuddle with somethin’, you can cuddle with me.”

“But it’s not the same,” she pouted, her lower lip poking out.

He stared at it for a long time. Yep, he could feel his resolve slipping away. What was it about that pouty pink lip that made him lose all sensibility?

“We’ll see,” he finally said.

She bounced a little on her chair and Spike’s gaze was transfixed on her jumping bosom. The fact that she had no clue what she was doing made it even sexier.

Lately, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands away from himself. She was driving him crazy, but he needed to show her that he meant what he’d told her. It wasn’t just about sex, no matter how blue his balls were turning.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been so hard to control himself, but the biggest mistake he had made was touching her. After that, he couldn’t think of anything else, which had resulted in some pretty uncomfortable nights on the couch and many trips to the bathroom to ease the tension.

She had mentioned it before so she must have known what he was doing in there. It was probably part of the reason she had felt like she wasn’t pleasing him and had then tried to appease him by offering herself.

He wasn’t a strong man and he had almost given in to her proposal until he looked into those innocent hazel-green eyes. She wasn’t ready and to be honest, neither was he. Sure, in bed, he liked to think of himself as a sex god, a stud, and generally the best lay any woman had ever had, but with Buffy it was different.

Her first time should be special and he wanted to give her a night she would remember for the rest of her life. She was a virgin and Spike felt like a complete sod for even thinking about taking that away from her. But he wasn’t deluding himself. He wanted her, wanted to be her first and it would happen sooner or later. And when that time came, he wanted to show her the stars.

It was bloody crazy that she would have wormed her way into his heart so quickly, but he couldn’t deny that she was indeed there, filling him up with happiness and pride. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

“I wish you didn’t have to work tomorrow.”

She was frowning, that little crease appearing between her eyebrows. A little grape jelly was smudged on the corner of her mouth and he couldn’t help but to lean across the table and swipe it away with his thumb.

Suddenly, she grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to her lips. She licked the tip before sucking it into her warm, wet mouth.

“Buffy,” he hissed, closing his eyes at the wonderful feeling her tongue was making as she swirled it around his finger.

This was the first attempt she had made since the other night to do anything more than give him a chaste kiss. She had been shy around him the past couple of days, but it looked like she was working up her courage.

Bloody hell! Did she know what she was emulating? How it was making him think of her mouth on other parts of his body? From what little they had done, he would have to guess no. But she was doing a number on him despite the lack of experience.

“You taste salty,” she said, popping his thumb from her mouth.

“And you taste like tart apples.”




******





His darkened blue eyes were hooded as he touched her cheek with his fingertips. A shiver ran through her and she unconsciously leaned into his hand.

“What do you mean?” She felt stupid for asking, but she honestly didn’t know what he was talking about.

He cocked his head to one side. “You remember, don’t you? How I tasted you?”

What was he- ? Oh. Her eyes went wide when she remembered watching him in a lustful haze as he sucked his fingers into his mouth after he had touched her. The expression on his face had made her think of someone letting milk chocolate melt on their tongue, savoring the sweet taste.

Did she taste good? Or like…what had he said? Tart apples?

“Do all women taste the same?” What she really wanted to know, but was too afraid to ask, was had he tasted other women. Did he enjoy their taste too?

With a smirk, he let his tongue curl up behind his top teeth and shook his head. “Uh-uh. Never tasted anyone as good as you, pet.”

She wasn’t thrilled to find out there had been other women, but that was dulled by the comment he made about her taste.

“Do you like doing that?”

He sucked in a sharp breath as his smirk faded. “With you I would. I would love to taste you again.”

Somehow, she got the impression they weren’t talking about the same thing.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and Buffy jumped a little. Spike glanced up at the clock and muttered something under his breath.

“Better go get dressed, kitten. That would be Angel,” he told her, getting up from his chair.

“Okay.” She stood up and started for the bedroom when Spike grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him.

“Forgetting something?”

His lips crashed into hers and she felt her knees go weak. An arm banded around her waist to hold her up as he plundered her mouth with his slick tongue. She moaned into his mouth and was rewarded with a squeeze to her buttock.

He released her, leaning in for one more brush against her lips. “Better go before I forget we have company.”

She nodded lamely, dazedly wandering off to the bedroom.

Wow.




******




Okay, that was a little caveman of him. It wasn’t as if he really believed that Angel would try anything or that Buffy would have any interest in the guy, but a little reminder of how he could make her feel could never hurt.

He watched her wobble into the bedroom and shut the door. Oh, yeah, she was all his.

Adjusting himself so his erection wasn’t quite as noticeable, he walked to the door and opened it.

“You’re early,” Spike said.

Angel raised an eyebrow. “And you’re complaining? Be glad I showed up at all.”

Spike let him in and shut the door.

“So, is this all the stuff you got?”

“Yeah, pretty much, ‘cept for the bed and some stuff from the bathroom,” Spike told him.

Angel nodded. “Shouldn’t take too long then.”

The bedroom door opened and Buffy emerged wearing a pair of tight pair of faded jeans and…Hey! Was that his Clash t-shirt?

“Hi,” she said shyly with a little wave.

“Well, hello, there. Spike didn’t tell me he had such a lovely roommate,” Angel replied, walking towards her, extending his hand. “I’m Angel.”

She took his hand and shook it. “I’m Buffy.”

“It’s an hon-”

“Can it, Don Juan.”

Angel turned around and glared at him. “Just sayin’ hello.”

“Well, go introduce yourself t’ some boxes,” Spike told him.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just pissed ‘cause I’m better lookin’ than he is,” Angel said to Buffy, who giggled a little.

After an hour, they had gotten most of the boxes moved into the new apartment and Angel and Spike were resting for a bit before trying to tackle the furniture.

“So, is she the reason why you’ve been acting so weird?” Angel asked, taking a drink of his Heineken.

“What? I haven’t been acting weird.”

Angel laughed. “Right. That’s why you’ve turned every girl at the bar down when they feel like taking you out for a test drive. C’mon, Spike, I know you too well for this bullshit.”

Buffy was setting boxes in their corresponding room and Spike felt himself smile. She was the reason he was different. Made him want to be a better man, set himself straight.

“She’s special, mate.”

“I can see that,” Angel replied.

At that, Spike shot him a black look. “You better just-”

“Hey!” Angel threw his hands up in defense. “Wasn’t trying to sniff in your territory, brother, just making a comment.”

Spike made himself relax. He had known Angel a long time and not once had the man tried to get involved with someone Spike was interested in. There was no reason to think any different now.

But there was something about Buffy that made him want to lock her away so he wouldn’t have to share her with anyone else. All rational thought usually left when he felt someone was trying to steal her attention away or worse.

“Anya said you were dating someone. That her?”

Spike’s brows went together. “What did she tell you?”

“Not much. Just that you had a girlfriend now and that she was sweet,” Angel told him, then shrugged. “You know how she is.”

“Yeah, I do.”

He was going to need to have a little conversation with Mrs. Harris. It didn’t bother him that she had told Angel since Spike probably would have told him eventually anyway. What bothered him was that Buffy was in a precarious position with her father out there looking for her and the more people Anya opened her mouth to, the more likely it would get back to Buffy’s father.

“So, is she?”

Spike nodded slowly.

“Then why are you moving into a bigger apartment? The other one was big enough for the both of you.”

“It’s complicated.” Spike ran a hand through his hair. Should he tell Angel? Would he understand?

“I can see that. How old is she?”

Spike quickly turned to him. “Sixteen. How did you-”

“Give me a break, Spike.” Angel rolled his eyes. “I’ve been a bartender for seven years. I can spot an underager at fifty paces.”

He couldn’t do anything but stare at the guy. “And…?”

“And what? If you’re waiting for me to tell you that it’s wrong, I wouldn’t hold your breath. I know my name is Angel, but you know as well as I do that I’m far from being one.”

“Thanks,” Spike muttered, looking down at his boots.

Angel slapped him on the back. “No problem. Besides, if you are serious about her, she must be something special. And sixteen or not, that’s still hard to come by.”

Glancing up to where Buffy was, he felt his chest tighten. “I know.”
Chapter 21 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
SunnyD AwardsLost In Spike Awards
A/N: Hey! Wow…it’s been a while. Sorry about the delay in updates, I’ve been dealing with a massive writer’s block. Thanks for all the continued support, though, and I hope you all enjoy. Also, a tiny note: Some of the dialogue is snipped from Angel: A Hole In The World…all credit goes to Joss for that. Enjoy!








The day before…


“You’re being bloody ridiculous, Buffy.”

“No, seriously. I really don’t need you to buy me all of this stuff.”

Spike shook his head. “So, you don’t need a bed? Where exactly are you plannin’ on sleepin’ then?”

“The couch.”

“I don’t think so, luv. You’ve got your own room now and there’s no reason you could possibly give that would convince me that you shouldn’t sleep there. Which means, you still need t’ pick out somethin’.”

Buffy sighed. “But Spike, you really don’t need to spend any more money on me. I didn’t come here so you could buy me things. I-”

“Luv,” he said, taking her hands in his and turning her to face him. “Buffy, you came here so I could take care of you and that’s what I’m doin’. I’m gonna spend some money on you, but that would have happened with anyone who would look after you. Difference is, I have the means t’ make livin’ with me comfortable and I’m going t’ whether you like it or not.”

“But-”

“No. We’re done discussin’ this. Now stop arguin’ with me and pick somethin’ out.”





******





Buffy watched as the delivery men assembled the brand new mahogany bed that Spike had forced her to pick out. It was gorgeous, just the sort of thing she would have chosen without the pressure, but it was also entirely too expensive.

She’d had every intention of getting the basic steel-framed, mattress-only deal. Sure, he had pushed her into buying furniture, but that didn’t mean she had to buy something extravagant. Standing her ground, she told him she only wanted a simple bed and even though he didn’t agree with her, he had the salesman begin ringing everything up.

Unfortunately, Spike had caught her gazing wistfully at the mahogany set and purchased it instead. She had been furious, to say the least. How dare he! Going behind her back and spending all that money on…

Okay, now she had to admit she was being ridiculous. What the hell was she complaining about? Here was this great guy- her boyfriend- who wanted to buy this beautiful set of furniture and all she could do was bitch about it?

You are a total basketcase, Buffy. And now you owe Spike an apology for acting like such a jerk. Way to go!

It was hard for her though. Living with her father, it had practically been shoved down her throat that money was everything and that she wasn’t worth the modest price he paid for her to be there. At some point, she began to believe all of the horrible things he told her and now being with Spike, to whom money meant very little, she still had a hard time shaking the feeling she didn’t amount to the price of a Happy Meal.

Leaving her room, she went in search of Spike and Angel. She found them in the kitchen, unpacking dishes and setting them in the cupboards.

“I still think that astronauts could kick a caveman’s ass. They’ve got all that cool space equipment and there‘s this little thing called teamwork,” Angel said, throwing silverware into a drawer.

“You don’t know what the soddin’ hell you’re talkin’ about. Cavemen would clearly win. They’re all instinct and pure animal savagery. As opposed t’ your namby-pamby, self-analyzing wanker astronauts, cavemen-”

“Hey, Buffy!” Angel shouted a little too enthusiastically once he noticed her standing in the doorway.

Spike spun around and smiled sheepishly. “Luv, what are you doin’?”

“Standing here listening to the both of you argue about…astronauts and cavemen? How lame is that.”

Frowning, Spike leaned up against the counter. “I’ll have you know that it is a very important theoretical question. One that needs an answer. What do you think?”

Buffy thought about it for a minute before asking, “Do the astronauts have weapons?”

Just as Spike was about to answer, the delivery men came out of Buffy’s room and announced they were all finished with the assembly. Spike walked them to the door and made sure they were tipped well before returning to the kitchen.

“So, shall we see what the finished product looks like?”

“Sure,” she replied as she followed him to her room.

Not only had they assembled everything, but the delivery men had placed all of the furniture neatly against the white walls. There wasn’t anything that needed shuffling as far as she was concerned.

“See, pet, aren’t you glad we got these instead of your first choice?”

Buffy shrugged. “I guess so.”

Turning, he brushed her hair over her shoulder. “Only the best for my girl.”

“Look, Spike, I’m sorry about yesterday,”

His brow furrowed. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“I mean, about fighting you on the whole furniture thing. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me and I’m sorry I was such a pain yesterday when all you were trying to do was make me happy,” she told him.

“You don’t ever have t’ thank me, pet. That’s not why I’m doin’ this,” he replied, searching her face for a sign that she understood what he was getting at. “I care about you.”

Buffy blushed a dusty pink. “I care about you too.”

That wasn’t true. It was so much more than just caring about him now. If she were honest, it was closer to being head over heels, crazy in love with him. Not that she could ever tell him.

After the other night, she made a promise to herself that she would let him call the shots from now on. She couldn’t bear to have him reject her again; the first time was bad enough. Only if he said it first would she ever even consider telling him that she loved him.

“Um, what about sheets and stuff?” Yes, bedding was a better topic. Much more safe than her growing feelings for him.

He frowned. “Bloody hell, did we forget that? I guess we’ll need t’ go t’ the store tonight.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she didn’t need sheets, but then thought better of it.

“I guess so.”





******





After the twentieth ‘I guess so’, Spike began to worry. Buffy was entirely too agreeable today and that wasn’t like her. Normally, she was stubborn, argumentative, and uncooperative, which were all things he liked about her. But here lately, she couldn’t seem to say one word in opposition.

His biggest fear was that she would feel like she had to appease him, like she had been forced to do with her father. He knew he was a right bastard sometimes, but he never wanted to scare her in to submission. Unfortunately, that was exactly what it looked like he had done.

He wasn’t any good at this. There were too many problems within his own life that had remained unresolved, how could he even hope to help her with hers? He supposed he could always ask someone else to talk to her, but who? Anya? The woman had as much tact as a stampeding elephant.

No, this was something he would have to work through with her all by himself. Besides, he wanted- no, needed her to trust him and what better way to do that than to get her to open up to him.

Now he just had to figure out how he was going to accomplish that feat.

“So what are you two up to tonight?” Angel asked, plopping down on the soft leather couch.

“Gotta go pick up some linens for Buffy’s bed. Maybe grab some dinner,” Spike replied, then glared at his friend with a fair amount of suspicion. “Why?”

“What? Can’t a guy ask his buddy what his plans are for the night?” At Spike’s arched eyebrow, Angel sighed and threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. I don’t have anything to do and I was wondering if you and Buffy wanted to hang out with me.”

“How much longer are your women gonna keep you in the doghouse? ‘Cause honestly, I’m not sure how much longer I can handle you being all…needy.”

Angel grinned. “Oh, I’d imagine they’ll be calling me pretty soon here. No way they could go without Daddy for too long.”

Rolling his eyes in disgust, Spike snorted. “Whatever. If you’d like t’ tag along-”

“Yes!”

Spike just shook his head. Bloody wanker. Truthfully, he felt sorry for the sod. Angel’s entire world revolved around women and while he liked to tell people he was completely detached from his conquests, Spike knew that he had invested much more than just time with his ladies. It was quite possible that Angel was in love with all of them, but the damned fool continued to deny he had any emotional attachments.

Good thing Angel’s brand of kink included room for a nice, big harem. Now, if only he could convince his women to be okay with the idea, the guy would be set.

That sort of thing wasn’t for him though. Sure, he had been with more than one woman at the same time, but the experience was lacking in his opinion. He might not have had any feelings for the women he had been with, but it was still intimate, just the way it was meant to be. One on one.

His thoughts trailed back to Buffy. When he and Buffy finally consummated their relationship, it would be nothing but intimate. He didn’t know that he had been longing for the type of connection that he had with Buffy until the day he realized that’s what they had. And that connection was bound to grow stronger as they got closer to true intimacy.

Sighing, Spike raked a hand through his hair. “We got everything out of the old apartment, right?”

Angel nodded. “Yep.”

“I have t’ go return the keys t’ the landlord. You’ll stay with Buffy ‘til I get back?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Slapping Angel in the shoulder, Spike stood up and grabbed the keys off the coffee table. “I’ll be back.”

It was beginning to become uncomfortably hot now that spring was almost officially over. When he had first moved to America, the climate change had been difficult for him. Coming from a cooler part of the world, he found Las Vegas to be unrelentingly harsh. But over time, he had grown quite accustomed to the summer heat and it helped that he was normally up and about only after the sun had gone down.

Making his way over to Sam Carlisle’s apartment, he was surprised to see the old man standing outside, talking to a couple of LVPD’s finest. It was pretty unusual for the cops to be around the apartment complex since Sam kept a tight rein on who he allowed to rent from him. There wasn’t much trouble in their small community even though they were centered in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city.

“If you have any more problems, Mr. Carlisle, don’t hesitate to give us a call, okay?”

Sam nodded. “I’ll do that. You boys have a nice day, eh?”

The two officers bid a final farewell and went off to where their patrol car was parked out on the street.

“Hey, Sam,” Spike greeted.

“Oh, Will, I didn’t see you coming, my boy. Come to give me those keys, have you?”

Spike nodded and handed him the ring of keys.

“Well, I bet you are glad to finally get into that bigger place. Must have been pretty crowded in the old one,” Sam said, a twinkle sparking in his ancient brown eyes.

Of course Sam knew about Buffy. Sam knew everything that went on in his apartments. Spike was a little surprised, though, that this was the first time Sam was mentioning it.

“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry I didn’t come an’ talk t’ you about-”

Sam waved off his explanation, “No need, my boy. You’re a good tenant, always paid your rent on time, never caused any trouble. I figured I’d just keep my nose out of this one.”

“Thanks,” Spike replied. “So, what was up with the cops? Nothin’ too serious, I hope.”

“Depends on how you look at it, I suppose,” Sam told him, beginning a shuffle towards his apartment. “I get this call from Agatha over in 12A saying there was this guy lookin’ in her window. So, I call the cops and they find him hiding in the bushes with a damn camera. Turns out he’s been taking pictures for a couple days now. Got pictures of everyone from the ground level apartments.”

Spike’s heart was thumping hard and fast. Okay, maybe this guy had nothing to do with Buffy. Maybe he was just a sick bastard who enjoyed looking in people’s windows. There was nothing to worry about, right?

On the other hand, maybe he should start worrying. If the guy was looking for Buffy then they had a serious problem. The only thing in their favor was that the guy apparently hadn’t gotten off the ground floor and it was possible that Buffy’s whereabouts were still unknown.

Shit! This was bad. Think, you soddin’ idiot, think!

“They arrested him?”

Sam laughed. “Oh, yeah. I imagine he’s locked up nice and tight in county right about now.”

That was another plus.

“You okay, boy? You look a bit pale.”

Shaking his dark thoughts, Spike nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Sam.”

Sam patted Spike’s shoulder. “You need more sleep. You kids today don’t sleep enough, going to those ravers and staying up all night. Damn downfall of our society, I’m telling you.”

“Yeah, a nap sounds really good. I’ll talk t’ you later, Sam,” Spike said, turning on his heel and walking back to his apartment.

He found Buffy and Angel in the kitchen when he returned.

“Are you okay, Spike?” Buffy asked, the little crease between her eyebrows pronounced with worry.

He was in a tight spot. He should tell her of the potential danger that was lurking around. If it turned out to be nothing, though, then she would have been unnecessarily put through the added stress and worry. Fuck!

“I’m fine, luv. Just a little hungry, I guess.”

“Well, you have been working hard all morning. I could make some sandwiches,” she offered cheerfully.

“Sure, pet. That sounds great.”

She grinned and busied herself with making lunch, completely unaware of the trouble that was plaguing him.

That’s because she trusts you. And you just lied to the girl, you sorry bastard.

One way or another, he’d have to get down to the bottom of this whole thing. He had to know for sure if that guy was working for her father or if he was just another random scumbag. And he knew just the person to ask.
Chapter 22 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
SunnyD AwardsLost In Spike Awards
The Trouble With Keeping Promises

A/N: Oooh…pretty! Much thanks to the lovely and multi-talented effection for the wonderful banner. Give me a little inspiration and out pops another update. ; - )









Buffy studied the unending shelves of bedding in the home department of Macy’s. How the hell was she going to decide? She had problems picking out what kind of cereal she was going to have for breakfast and now she was faced with rows upon rows of satin and 300 thread count cotton, in every imaginable color, style, and price.

Glancing around, she saw Angel chatting it up with a pretty saleslady. Spike had gone to the electronics store to look at stereos, leaving Angel to keep her company.

She snorted. More like baby-sit. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand his reservations about leaving her by herself, but she felt like a toddler needing someone to watch her every second.

Sighing, she placed the set of Tommy Hilfiger sheets she was looking at back on the shelf and walked over to Angel and the saleslady.

“Angel, I need help,” she whined.

Angel shot her an annoyed glance before his expression softened and he smiled. “Can you just give me one minute, Buffy?”

“No, I need help now.”

Angel laughed nervously as he looked back to the saleslady. “Heh, kids, they’re so impatient.”

The saleslady giggled. “If you need to help out your daughter-”

“No! Uh, I mean, she’s not my daughter,” Angel said quickly.

“Oh?” The saleslady looked confused. “Then…”

Buffy’s jaw clenched. She didn’t have time for this. They were supposed to meet Spike in twenty minutes and she was nowhere close to picking anything out.

“What do you mean, Daddy? I thought you said I was your little girl.” Buffy batted her eyelashes up at Angel, feigning innocence.

Angel’s eyes went wide. “Buffy!”

Buffy poked her lower lip out. “But Daddy, you promised to help me.”

The saleslady looked angry, her face turning red. Yeah, she probably wasn’t too happy that Angel had ‘lied’ to her.

Angel looked to the pretty saleswoman with utter bewilderment. “I have no idea what’s she talking about. I swear, she’s not my-”

“I have to get back to work. If you need anything, another salesperson would be glad to help you, sir,” the woman practically spat out before turning on her heel and walking away.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” Angel was still shocked, his mouth hanging open slightly.

Okay, so what she’d done was completely wrong and she should be ashamed of her behavior. But when she thought about, she couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter that floated out of her.

“It’s not funny!” Angel cried. “I was this close to getting her phone number.”

“I’m sorry,” she told him, sounding almost sincere until she started giggling again.

Angel scowled. “Fine, whatever. What do you need help with?”

It took her a few minutes to get her laughter under control, but once she did, she noticed Angel was still glaring at her.

“I need you to help me pick some sheets and stuff out.”

“Buffy, we’ve been in this store for almost an hour and you haven’t picked anything out?! Jesus, Spike is going to kill us if we’re not there in fifteen minutes.”

“I know. That’s why you need to-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fine, I’ll help,” he said, grabbing her arm and leading her back over to the shelves of merchandise. “What do you like?”

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Angel rolled his eyes and picked up the closest package. “How about this?”

“Eww.” She scrunched up her nose in distaste. “I hate yellow.”

Placing the package back on the shelf, he grabbed another and held it out for her inspection. “This one’s nice.”

“Yeah, if I was five,” she huffed.

Angel sighed. Hopefully, Spike could sit tight for a few more minutes because he had a feeling this was going to take a while.





******






Bloody hell, he hated the mall!

Spike sat down in the corner of the food court, hoping that his contact at the Las Vegas Police Department hurried up. Buffy and Angel were due back soon and he’d rather not have to explain why he had snuck away to meet-

“Faith! About bloody time you showed up,” Spike grumbled, standing up to greet her.

Faith shrugged. “Sorry, bleachboy. Something came up.”

“I’m sure. How is Robin these days?”

Smirking, she pulled out a seat and sat down. “Oh, you know him. Still keeping me surprised.”

Spike had met Faith Lehane two years ago after a particularly ugly fight had broken out at The Blue Temple. She was one of the arresting officers and Spike had instantly been attracted to the bad girl in a tan uniform. They’d had quite a go of it for a few months before she found Robin and decided to settle down.

“He’d have to.”

“Don’t you know it,” she replied saucily.

He did, but that didn’t matter now. He had Buffy and suddenly, Faith didn’t seem quite as attractive to him as she once had been.

“So, did you look into that matter for me or what?”

Faith raised an eyebrow. “Fuck, Spike, I’ve never known you to get down to business so quickly. You were always so into the whole-”

“Don’t play bloody games with me, Faith. Just tell me what you found out,” he growled.

“Okay, okay,” she told him, her hands up in defense. “Geez, you must really have a problem with peeping toms.”

“Is that all he was?”

Faith regarded him thoughtfully for a minute before pulling a file folder out of her backpack. She slapped it on the table and flipped open the cover, turning it around so that he could see its contents.

“You know, I could get in deep shit for showing you this,” she mentioned casually. Truth of it was Faith didn’t give a rat’s ass about rules and regulations. In fact, she got off on breaking as many of them as possible.

“Good thing you owed me one, then,” Spike replied with a bored expression. He was in no mood for trading sarcasm with her tonight…or any other night for that matter. “What the soddin’ hell am I supposed t’ be lookin’ at here?”

Rolling her eyes, she snatched the file back from him. “He’s not just a peeping tom, okay? He’s a private detective, a local one.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! This wasn’t good, not bloody good at all. There was still a chance that he wasn’t hired to look for Buffy, but it seemed like an awfully big coincidence for him not to be.

“Anythin’ else?”

“Well, this guy’s no stranger to being read his Miranda rights. He’s been arrested six times in the last year for trespassing and B & E. Not the most upstanding citizen, huh?”

Spike rubbed his jaw in thought. “Do you know who hired him or what he was lookin’ for?”

“That I couldn’t tell ya. But if you’re really nice, maybe I can look up who he called after he was arrested.” She grinned at him and gave him a wink.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he groaned in frustration. He looked back at her, a shudder running down his spine. “How nice are we talkin’ here, Faith?”

She tapped her fingernails against the laminate surface of the table and leaned in towards him. “Well…I was kinda hopin’ that-”

“Wait,” he said quickly. “Look, I’m with someone, Faith. I can’t get involved with you like that. I need t’ know about that guy, but not so much that I’d sleep with you and fuck up what I’ve got going with this girl.”

Faith just gaped at him, her mouth slack as she blinked slowly as if trying to process his rejection. Hasn’t the bloody bint ever been turned down? She was acting as if he had just told her the world was actually round rather than flat.

And then she laughed.

“Whot?” Spike asked indignantly, growing quite uncomfortable as her laughter not only continued, but got louder and harder until she was almost doubled over with it.

“You-You…” She pointed at him. “You? Mr. Bang-Anything-With-Tits? Fuckin’ involved?! Color me freakin’ shocked!”

“Fuck you! You have no fuckin’ room t’ talk, you soddin’ tart!”

At his angry words, Faith stopped laughing. “Hey, calm down, man. I was just freakin’ kidding.”

Spike’s jaw clenched tightly to keep more insults from spewing out. Like it or not, she was the only way he could get any information on that asshole poking his nose around where it didn’t belong. Best not to anger the bitch.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“’S cool,” she told him. “Besides, I don’t want to fuck you.”

Shit, now color him shocked.

He raised his scarred eyebrow. “No? What then?”

A small part of him wanted to ask her why she didn’t want to ride him six ways from Sunday. It didn’t really matter, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she didn’t think he was quite the stud she had once claimed he was.

Her cheeks turned a little pink and she looked down at the floor. “Well, me and Robin’s anniversary is coming up and I thought you could hook me up. You know, with some VIP passes to The Blue Temple, maybe a suite at Caesar’s Palace…?”

Er…okay. He had not expected her to ask him for that. But it was good, very good. What she wanted was only a couple of phone calls away and then they’d be even.

“I think I could manage that. How soon could you find out who he contacted?” Spike asked.

She took a deep breath and held it for a minute as she calculated the time in her head. “Tomorrow. Friday at the latest.”

He nodded. “You’ll let me know, then?”

“Sure thing, baby,” she replied as she leaned forward and gave him a dry kiss on the cheek.

He smiled at her and watched as she plopped back into her chair, revealing Buffy and Angel standing behind her.

Ah, fuck.





******





Buffy and Angel rode the escalator down to the first floor to meet Spike in the food court. She had finally picked out something that she liked, much to Angel’s relief. It was a set of deep orange and vivid red sheets and matching pillowcases with a huge comforter that was bordered with gold threading and rich crimson velvet.

“Do you think Spike will like them?” Buffy asked as they stepped off the moving stairway.

Angel smirked. “With you wrapped up in them, of course he will.”

Buffy blushed and glanced away. Was it that obvious to everyone that she and Spike were together? Did they know what kind of things he had done to her body? Could they tell?

Just when she was going to die of embarrassment, she spotted Spike sitting in the far corner. And he wasn’t alone.

She looked at Angel and was not reassured at all by the grim expression on his face. Who the hell was she and why was she sitting with her boyfriend?

“Angel?”

“I’m sure it’s not what it looks like, Buff. He probably just ran into her while he was waiting for us,” he told her.

“Do you know her?” She asked as they quickly approached the table.

Angel seemed nervous, which made her feel even worse. “Uh, well…”

“Sure thing, baby.”

Buffy’s eyes bugged out of her head as she watched the woman lean over and kiss Spike. She just…and he just…oh, God! Her heart felt like it had been stabbed straight through with a dull knife and she slapped her hand against her chest to stop the pain.

How could he do that? Did she mean so little to him that he could just let another woman kiss him? She wanted to run away, but Angel had his arm around her waist, holding her in the situation as if knowing her intentions.

The woman sat back down in her chair and revealed a smiling Spike, who noticed them standing there almost instantly. His smile faded away and he moved to get up from his seat.

“Buffy,” he said quickly. “There you are, luv. I was wonderin’ what happened t’ you.”

Buffy tried to back away from him as he reached out to touch her, but Angel held fast and steady. The tears were welling up in her eyes and she tried hard to keep them at bay. She wasn’t going to cry, not in front of him.

He looked confused as she continued to back into Angel. “Pet, what’s wrong?”

What’s wrong?! How could he ask her that? She had caught him red-handed kissing another woman and he had the nerve to ask her what was wrong? Goddamn asshole!

The woman had stood up and was now standing next to Spike. “Angel, how’ve ya been?”

“Not bad, Faith. How about you?” Angel said through clenched teeth.

“Five by five,” she replied, snapping her head to the side in a half-shrug.

“Buffy-” Spike began.

Faith stepped between them. “So you boys gonna introduce me or- Hey!” She glanced over her shoulder at Spike and pointed to Buffy. “This her?”

“Yeah,” Spike told her, pushing past Faith as he closed the distance between himself and Buffy. He grabbed Buffy around the waist and yanked her away from Angel. “This is my girl, Buffy.”

Faith nodded. “Alright, alright. What’s up, B? I’m Faith.” She offered Buffy her hand.

Hesitantly, Buffy took Faith’s hand, letting the other woman shake it forcefully.

She was so confused.

“What are you doing here, Faith?” Angel asked.

“I was just-”

“She was lookin’ for an anniversary present for her fiancé,” Spike blurted out.

Faith’s eyebrows went together before she nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah. I was, uh, shopping and I saw Spike sittin’ over here so I thought I’d come say hi.”

Despite Faith’s collaborating story, Buffy knew there was something else going on. She wanted to believe Spike, but the proof had been right in front of her. And worse yet, they were both lying.

“So, I’m sure Faith still has a lot of shoppin’ t’ do. And we should probably get goin‘,” Spike said.

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys later,” Faith replied. “Nice to meet you, B. Hope to see you around soon.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said weakly. “See you soon.”

What the hell just happened?





******






Dinner hadn’t gone well. Between Angel’s scowls and Buffy’s sad bewilderment, Spike was at a loss. He knew that he could clear everything up with just a simple explanation, but then he would have to tell her about the private investigator who may or may not be working for her father.

Whether it was right or not, he decided that he would just keep quiet about it for now. There was no sense in making the girl worry until there was actually something to worry about. She was stressed enough as it was.

Yeah, because she saw you with another woman, you wanker. Now she probably thinks you’re screwin’ around.

The ride back to the apartment was silent, almost deafening. After Angel dropped them off, the silence hadn’t gone away. They walked to the apartment and Spike unlocked the door.

“Buffy?”

She didn’t acknowledge him at all. Not a look, not a sound.

“Luv?”

She brushed past him and dropped her bags on the floor before hightailing it to her room, her door slamming shut with such a force that Spike could feel its vibrations.

Fuck. He had really bollixed things up this time.

Walking over to her door, he raised his fist to knock on it. “Buffy, baby, can I come in?”

There was no answer.

“Buffy?”

After the fourth attempt to get her to open the door, Spike lost his patience and stormed into her room. He found her lying on the bare mattress, crying, her body shaking.

“Buffy,” he said, sitting down on the bed next to her. He reached out to touch her shoulder.

Suddenly, she slapped him away and shot up so that she was kneeling on the mattress. “Get away from me!”

“Luv, c’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Just leave me alone!”

“Buf-”

“Go away!” She slammed her fists into his chest, trying to make he move, but he was too quick and he grabbed her wrists to stop her.

“You’re being bloody ridiculous!” He shouted at her.

She stopped struggling against his hold. “You’re always saying that. I’m not ridiculous. I know what I saw, Spike.”

“Oh? And what is it that you think you saw?”

“She was kissing you!”

Spike shook his head. “No, she kissed my cheek and that’s it.”

Her fierce expression faltered for a moment, but then came back with a vengeance. “It was still a kiss.”

“I beg t’ differ, little girl. If you don’t think there’s a difference then I must have been doin’ somethin’ wrong.”

“What are you-”

He yanked her against his chest and crushed his lips to hers. Letting go of one wrist, his arm wrapped around her waist and held her tightly. His tongue slipped between her lips and he tasted her sweetness.

Fuck, she was hot and all of her struggling was making his body respond, her body rubbing against his in all the right places. He picked her up and laid her down, his hips sliding between her thighs, feeling her heat seeping through their jeans.

It wasn’t long before she stopped fighting him and her free hand moved up to rake through his hair. She moaned, her hips bucking slightly as he ground against her.

He left her mouth, choosing a path across her jaw and down to the slender column of her neck.

“Fuck, luv. Why would I want a trollop like her when I’ve got you? My hot, sweet girl. Taste like raspberries,” he rasped in her ear as he licked a small patch of skin just below.

Her back arched as his palm found her breast, rubbing against her hardened nipple.

“Wanna taste you. Will you let me, sweet girl?”





******





Buffy’s brain was muddled with lust. She knew she should tell him no. He still hadn’t explained himself from earlier and she kept trying to convince herself that she was still really upset with him.

But then he did that little flutter thing with his tongue against her ear and she forgot all about…what was her name?

“Spike,” she moaned, her hand grasping his hair and holding him against her neck.

He must have taken that as a yes because soon he was pulling her shirt up and over her head. She watched him kiss his way down her neck and over her collarbone towards the lacey edge of her bra. He licked around the soft lines, his hot breath soaking through the thin material and making her nipples stand at a painful attention.

He released her other wrist to reach around and undo the clasp of her bra, peeling the undergarment away from her moist skin.

“Beautiful,” he whispered as he took one hard nub into his mouth. Her eyes squeezed shut as he continued to work his magic over her breasts, switching from one to the other seamlessly.

She could feel his hard length grinding into her and images of him naked flashed behind her closed eyelids. It wasn’t the first time she had thought of him since that night in the shower, but this was the first time she wanted to do something other than daydream about it.

He was unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them off her legs before she could even grasp what he was doing, leaving her in only her tiny cotton panties. She could feel the rough denim of his jeans scraping against her inner thighs and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips.

“God, Buffy! So hot, baby.”

She knew that she had promised herself that she would wait for him lead the way, but she really wanted to touch him. All of him. Her hands slid down his back and slithered underneath his t-shirt, feeling his smooth skin under her fingertips.

He groaned and she felt her courage grow. Lifting the edge of his shirt, she pulled up, amazed when he helped her yank it off. They were skin to skin now, his hard chest rubbing against her.

He moved back up her body, his lips brushing hers, his tongue sliding out to wet her soft skin. Her hands made the slow path towards his waist, her fingertips playing with the waistband of his jeans.

The movement seemed to go unnoticed as he continued to kiss her, his hands caressing her breasts, kneading and massaging until her skin was tingling. Her hands moved forward to his button fly and started pushing the hard metal tabs through their holes.

A low growl rumbled in his chest once he realized what she was doing and he grabbed her wrist.

“Buffy, what’re you doin’?”

She looked up into his stormy blue eyes. “I want to touch you,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“We shoul- Oh, fuckin’ hell!”

She had wiggled her other hand between them and grabbed his hard length, her fingers squeezing him. His eyes rolled back into his head and he thrust his hips towards her, his cock sliding more firmly in her closed fist.

His body straightened as he sat back on his knees. Her hand started to move experimentally up and down and she glanced at his face to see his reaction. His eyes were shut and he was panting, a look of tortured bliss spread across his face.

He grunted, his hips jerking. “Gonna kill me, luv.”

She gasped and yanked her hand away. Had she been hurting him?

His eyes opened and he stared down at her. For a moment, his expression was blank and she worried that she had truly done something wrong.

Then suddenly, he dropped down, his hips sliding up until his cock was lying against her cotton-covered slit. She could feel the hard piece of flesh throbbing, sending sparks from her sensitive pearl of nerves outward through her whole body.

“You feel it, pet? What you do t’ me? Fuck, wanna feel you so bad,” he said roughly as his hips began to move.

A rush of white hot pleasure washed over her as his cock slid back and forth against her. He began slowly, picking up the pace in steps. The friction was making her crazy and she needed him to go faster, harder.

“Spike, please,” she moaned, her hands grabbing his strong arms and holding on as he started to move quicker.

“This what you want? Feelin’ my cock against your hot lil’ quim? Hmm? This what you want?” His voice had become strained as he pushed himself a little harder.

She was too far gone to be embarrassed by his dirty talk. In fact, hearing him made her even more aroused, if that was possible. With every word and sound, she was closer to finding release.

“C’mon, baby. Tell me. You like this? You want more?”

When she didn’t answer, he reached up and pinched her nipple. She cried out, her back curving up.

“Say it, luv. I need you t’ say it.”

He pinched her again and she screamed. “Yes! I like it! Yes, God, please don’t stop!”

He slipped his hands under her ass and lifted her up, then he ground into her with all that he had. His hips quickened their pace as he slid over her. Buffy could feel the once slow build-up skyrocket and she dug her nails into his arms as she came, wave after wave crashing over her.

Spike roared in completion as his seed came out in short spurts, plopping onto her lower belly and panties. He sat up a little, grabbing the base of his cock and coaxing his climax to continue, jerking as aftershocks jolted him.

Collapsing beside her, Spike just lay still for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He rolled towards her, propping his head on his hand.

“You okay, luv?” He asked breathlessly, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek.

Buffy nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”

He grinned. “You’re bloody incredible, you know that?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” he told her, his hand drifting downward to brush across her stomach. “Only one for me, luv. The only one.”

She smiled at him, but it was partly superficial. He was lying to her and he had promised he wouldn’t ever lie. She didn’t know if the secret he was keeping had anything to do with Faith, but either way, she felt betrayed.

God, she loved him so much. She didn’t know if she could handle the truth if it meant that they couldn’t be together. But she couldn’t allow him to keep her in the dark. She needed to know. One way or another.











A/N: I know this one has been moving a bit slooooow. I know and I’m sorry, but those couple of boring chapters were needed. Thoughts…questions…comments? Hello? Hehe! Thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers for stickin’ with me through the rough patches. ~Much luv, Jae
Chapter 23 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
SunnyD AwardsLost In Spike AwardsSpark and Burn Awards
The Trouble With Keeping Promises


A/N: Grrr! RL has really hindered my updating efforts here lately. Many apologies for the lack of…sometimes it’s just unavoidable, you know? Anywho, thanks for all my wonderful reviews for the last chapter, although I’m surprised no one noticed that I named it Ch. 21 even though it was actually Ch. 22. lol! I didn’t even notice until tonight. Hope you all enjoy! ~Jae








Thursday came and went, but Buffy had yet to confront Spike about his all-to-obvious lying. By Friday morning, she was beginning to think she’d lost her nerve.

Every scenario she could conjure up had Spike either brushing her worries aside or getting very upset. Neither was inspiring confidence to call him on it.

Before her mother and Giles died, she wouldn’t have cared about the consequences. She would have charged ahead until she got her answers. But now…the consequences were much too tangible and while she trusted Spike, the fear was still there.

She had learned not to ask questions while she lived with her father. It usually ended badly. Most of the time, she got a couple of bruises and a slight deafness from all of the yelling, but it were those handful of incidences where things had gone careening off the side of reasonable punishment and dived into a very scary and dark place.

It was a reminder of just what her father was capable of. It was the reason she had run and the reason why she hadn’t wanted Spike to get involved. Despite all of the facts she had given him, Buffy knew without a doubt that Spike didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into when he had forced her to stay.

As strong as he was, Spike wouldn’t be able to match her father’s resources or cruelty. For the first time since she’d first run away, Buffy was truly terrified about what might happen if her father found her. What would he do to her? More importantly, what would he do to Spike?

During those first few days, Spike had told her that they would work together to figure out what to do. Now it seemed Spike had taken the top position in their small army and left Buffy to follow all of the orders. But they weren’t going to win the war if it continued this way, that Buffy was sure of.

Sighing, Buffy bit into an orange wedge and flipped the page of her fashion magazine.

She heard the bathroom door open and turned to look down the hall as Spike padded his way to the kitchen.

“Good mornin’, luv,” he said with a yawn, heading straight for the coffee maker.

“Hey,” Buffy replied, not really in the mood for conversation. Although, to be perfectly honest, it was her own damn fault for not pressing the issue of his lying. Maybe if she knew what was going on, she might feel more inclined to talk to him. Or maybe not, depending on what he was keeping from her.

She really didn’t want to think of all of the horrible things that might be going on behind her back. And even though he had assured her that nothing was going on with Faith, Buffy hadn’t ruled out the possibility. After all, wasn’t it Spike who had admitted to her what a playboy lifestyle he’d been leading before she’d come to live with him?

Yeah, leopards couldn’t change their spots and she suspected neither could career bachelors.

Spike shuffled around the table to sit across from her, plopping down on the seat and setting his coffee mug on the tabletop.

“Hey? That’s all I get?” He asked, folding his arms over his broad chest.

Buffy glanced up at him, noticing for the first time that he was wearing his glasses instead of his contacts. “What’s with the glasses?”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “Forgot t’ take out my contacts last night an’ my eyes are killin’ me. Now what’s with the attitude?”

Buffy shrugged and went back to her magazine.

With a groan of frustration, Spike ran a hand through his messy, bed hair. “You bloody infuriating- ! If you expect me t’ know what’s wrong just by lookin’ at you, I’m afraid you have me confused with Mike the Magic Mystical. I’m not a soddin’ mind reader, Buffy.”

Buffy slammed her hand on the table. “Did I ask you to read my mind? What? Just because I didn’t feel like answering your damn question, that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong! Maybe I just don’t feel like talking to you!”

“You seem t’ forget, luv, that I’m pretty good at figurin’ you out. And that whole Buffy Blow-up you just had made me pretty damn sure that somethin’s wrong. Now I know it’s not PMS ‘cause-”

Picking up her magazine, she hurled it at his head. It smacked him in the forehead, knocking his glasses askew before it flopped onto the floor.

“You are such an asshole!” Buffy screamed at him.

Dazed and more than a little confused, Spike just sat there, his mouth gaping open and his eyes blinking slowly behind his crooked glasses. But it wasn’t long before the stupor began to wear off and the red haze of anger flushed his face.

“I’m the asshole? That’s bloody rich comin’ from you! I jus’ wanted t’ know what the hell was wrong an’ you jump down my bleedin’ throat!” He just sat there for a moment glaring at her before finally standing up and grabbing the edge of the table.

“And I told you there’s nothing wrong! Just drop it!” Buffy shouted back.

With a loud growl, he flipped the table over and stomped the short distance to where she sat, frozen. His large hands grasped the seat of her chair and pulled her forward so that their faces were only a hairsbreadth away.

“Quit playin’ these damn games with me an’ tell me what’s wrong with you,” he rumbled as his dark gaze bored into her. “What happened t’ the Buffy from a couple days ago? You know, the one that was happy and bubbly and didn’t go around callin’ me fuckin’ names.”

“I don’t know,” she replied through clenched teeth. She was scared out of her mind, but she couldn’t help the nasty tone her words seemed to be drenched in.

His jaw tensed as he nodded. “Right then.” He pushed himself away from her and left the room.

When he returned, Buffy was sure what his intentions were. He was going to leave. He had gotten dressed and was now grabbing his keys and wallet off the table by the front door.

Just when she was sure he was going to storm out the door, he turned to her. “Still don’t know?”

Faced with his temper and the prospect of him leaving, she couldn’t force any sound out of her mouth. So, she could do nothing but sit helplessly as he waited for her to stop him from going.

He stood there for what seemed like hours to Buffy, but in actuality were only minutes. “Fine,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. Then his anger broke through and he was shouting again. “You know what? Sod it! I don’t need this shit!”

He ripped through the front door and slammed it shut behind him. And he was gone.

And she was all alone.





******







Spike got about four blocks away before he pulled the bike to a screeching halt.

He was furious! He was pissed! He was beyond pissed! And damn it, he was such a sodding fool!

As angry as he was, he had no business going off on her like that. Worst part of it was, he had his suspicions that he was the reason she was so upset. He had actually convinced himself that he’d pulled the wool over her eyes.

But Buffy wasn’t stupid. She knew there was something going on. She was just too afraid to call him on it.

“Fuck!” Why couldn’t he have just told her the truth? She wasn’t some sort of porcelain doll that needed to be handled with kid gloves. She would have been able to handle the truth.

Despite his good intentions, he was really doing nothing but lying to her. Problem was, had it gone to far to be fixable? He had promised her that he wouldn’t ever lie to her and what did he do? First sign of trouble and the lies just flowed.

The mistake was in thinking he knew what was best for her. God, he was no better than her bastard father. Trying to keep her under his thumb with smooth words and mind-numbing sex, Spike had used her trust to take advantage of the situation.

Maybe he really was his father’s son. Alistair Pratt was nothing if not a master of manipulation and deceit. Seemed like Spike had inherited more than the old man’s physical appearance.

He was a right bastard and-

“Bloody hell!”

In his anger, he had gone off and left her all by herself. See, that was the problem with being the kind of man that went off half-cocked. Reason usually flew completely out the window and he almost always did something he regretted later. Unfortunately, this time, he had done several things he was now regretting.

Putting the motorcycle back in gear, he flipped a u-turn and sped off towards the apartment.

God, if anything happened to her, he’d never be able to forgive himself. In his lifetime, he had done some pretty stupid stuff, but this had to take the cake. Some sodding protector he turned out to be.

Parking the bike next to the curb, he jumped off and made a run towards the apartment. He swung the door open and burst inside, half-expecting to see her still sitting where he’d left her.

But she wasn’t sitting there. She wasn’t even in the room.

After a quick sweep of the apartment and a couple shouts of her name, he had to face the facts. She wasn’t there.

The urge to panic was overwhelming and he had to take large gulps of air to keep himself from completely losing it.

“Get a hold of yourself, mate. You haven’t been gone longer than ten minutes, she couldn’t have gotten far,” he told himself, trying to ease his pounding heart and stop the flood of adrenaline running through him.

He swallowed hard before calmly turning towards the door and walking out. His strides were smooth and even as he crossed the neatly manicured lawn to the Harris’ building, all the while chanting silently that he would find her there safe and sound.

Taking the steps one at a time, he finally reached the top and knocked on the door.

The door opened to reveal a very pissed off Anya. “What the hell do you want?”

“That’s a right stupid question, Anya. You know why I’m here, so just let me in.” He made the move to push past her, but Anya stood her ground.

“I don’t think so, mister. You can’t just go around giving orders and expect people to do what you tell them to.”

“Anya, I don’t have bloody time for this nonsense. I need t’ see her an’ you’re not gonna stop me,” Spike told her.

Anya stepped forward, still blocking the doorway, and stuck her finger into Spike’s chest. “You don’t scare me, William Pratt. But you did scare Buffy, so tell me again why I should let you see her?”

Stubborn bint!

He sighed. “Anya, please, just let me in.”

She eyed him suspiciously for a while before throwing her hands up. “Fine. But if she tells you to leave, you better go.”

“I will,” Spike promised.

He followed Anya into the apartment. While he was pretty irritated that Anya had put up such a fight to let him in, Spike was also grateful to have someone else who was so concerned with Buffy’s well-being and happiness. Truth of it was, Buffy needed all the support she could get and having a few more people like Anya in her corner would only help her cause.

Anya stopped in front of her bedroom door. “She’s in there.”

“Okay,” Spike said as he made the attempt to get past Anya.

She halted him with a hand. “I meant what I said. If she wants you to leave, you better.”

Bloody hell, is this how he acted? He knew he was a little overprotective of Buffy, but now he was wondering if he went a little overboard with it. If he acted anything like Anya, then he was sure of it.

Instead of answering her, he just lifted an eyebrow and looked towards the closed door.

Finally satisfied that he would follow her warning, Anya let him past.

Spike opened the door and peered inside. Buffy was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head down. He hated seeing her upset and hated himself even more for making her be upset.

“Buffy?” He moved into the room and shut the door behind him.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” She didn’t look up at him.

He wanted so badly to go to her and put his arm around her shoulders, to comfort her, but he knew it would be unwelcome. This time he wasn’t going to push her to accept his apologies or excuses. Her decision would be her own to forgive him.

“I know,” he replied quietly. Taking a deep breath, he tried to find the right words. “Buffy, I’ve been lyin’ t’ you.”

Her head shot up at that, her eyes wide with a mixture of anger, hurt, and surprise. “Y-You’ve been-”

“Lyin’. T’ you.”

“Why?”

The why was much harder to explain than the what. Why couldn’t she have asked ‘what’ first?

“I jus’ wanted t’ protect you, is all, luv. Never wanted t’ hurt you,” he told her, still standing near the door.

“Protect me from what, Spike?” The anger was leaving her eyes, her need to know what was going on becoming more important than her tumultuous emotions.

Spike swallowed hard. “The other day, a man was arrested here for lookin’ in people’s windows.”

Buffy’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “Yeah, Anya mentioned it, but why-” The question was cut off by her sharp gasp, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as the realization hit her. “You think he was looking for me, don’t you?”

“He might be, I’m not sure. I didn’t want t’ scare you, pet.”

“Oh, god, Spike! What if he already found me?”

Spike crossed the short distance between them and kneeled down in front of her, grasping her small hands in his large ones. He gave her a reassuring kiss on her knuckles and gazed up at her.

“I won’t let anythin’ happen t’ you, you know that, right?”

She nodded emphatically. “Yes.”

“I know someone at the police department. Been lookin’ into the matter for me,” he told her, squeezing her hands a little.

She laughed nervously. “Faith, right?”

“Ever had anyone tell you that you’re one smart cookie, eh, luv?” He winked at her.







******







Buffy had never been in a police station before and she couldn’t help but think that it looked nothing like the ones she’d seen on television.

Spike held her hand as they crossed the reception area and made their way to the information desk.

“Need t’ speak with Detective Lehane,” Spike told the guard on duty.

The guard stood up and pointed to several phones in the corner. “You can reach her by one of those phones. Her extension is listed on the board.”

Spike gave the guard a curt nod before following the man’s directions.

There were so many things running through Buffy’s head that she couldn’t keep her thoughts straight. And her emotions…she couldn’t even begin try and figure out.

It still hurt that Spike had lied to her, but she understood his reasons. He hadn’t wanted to frighten her when it was still very possible that this whole thing was just a coincidence. She got that. But damn it! She wasn’t a little girl. She could handle bad news, could deal with the danger possibly looming over her.

She didn’t like being kept in the dark no matter how good his reasons were.

“She’s comin’ down,” Spike said, coming over to stand next to her.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy tried to find the courage that had been eluding her for days. “Spike?”

“Yeah, luv?”

“Does Faith know about…me?” Buffy glanced up at him, not knowing what she hoped to see in his eyes.

He reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses had been resting. “I didn’t tell her, but I’m guessin’ she probably knows you’re underage. She hasn’t asked me about it though.”

“W-Will I get you into t-trouble?”

She had gotten so used to everyone just ignoring her age that she had forgotten how much of an issue it could be. Not to mention the fact that she was technically a runaway.

Suddenly, Buffy felt sick to her stomach. This was the last place they should be, surrounded by cops. They could arrest Spike. They could take her away. They could-

Two strong hands grasped her shoulders and turned her body. Spike put a finger under her chin and lifted it up.

“I can see those wheels turnin’, luv. Stop worryin’.”

“But they could-”

“Nothin’s gonna happen t’ me. I promise.”

“But Faith could-”

“Are you two talkin‘ about me?” A voice said behind her.

Spike let go of her and Buffy spun around quickly. “I-uh-I-no.”

Faith laughed. “It’s cool, B. I know I’m probably a big topic of conversation right about now.”

“I-you-well-” Buffy clamped her lips shut. She was doing nothing but making a fool out of herself and Faith was the last person she wanted to do that in front of.

“Why don’t we go have a chat outside?” Faith suggested, her expression turning serious.

The sun was high and bright in the clear blue sky. It was going to be a very hot summer by the looks of it. They made their way towards some concrete benches that sat under a small outcropping of trees at the base of the lawn.

“So, I’m guessin’ you want to know about our good friend Willie D, the peeping private eye, right?” Faith said, setting down a file folder next to her on the bench.

“He’s a private investigator?” Buffy asked, the fear beginning to mount.

She had been fine when she thought the guy was just a peeping tom. With this new information, she had little doubts that this Willie D character wasn’t involved with her father somehow.

Faith nodded. “Yep, though after this little stunt, he’ll probably get his license pulled.”

“Shouldn’t he have had it pulled five incidents ago?” Spike asked, his jaw tensing.

Five incidents? What were they talking about?

“He was arrested, but never charged with anything. Bastard didn’t even get a fine,” Faith replied with a sigh of disgust.

“Did you find out who he called?”

“Yeah. He only called one person,” Faith said, looking down at the file and squinting her eyes slightly. “Ella DeMille, his mother. And he’s had no visitors.”

Spike looked a bit relieved at the news. “Any info on who hired him yet?”

“Nah.” Faith shook her head. “He ain’t talking. He gave the investigator some bullshit story about bird watching. Yeah, bird watching, my ass.”

“Fuck. We really need to find out who hired him, Faith,” Spike told her.

Buffy watched as Faith frowned and stared at Spike. Uh-oh, this didn’t look good.

“Well, it might help if you tell me what you’re lookin’ for, Spike. I mean, shit, I’m workin’ blind here.”

Instead of answering Faith, Spike turned to look at Buffy. “Do you wanna tell her, luv?”

Now he gives her the choice?! As much as she loved him, Buffy had to admit that Spike had the worst timing.












A/N: Don’t know if anyone is interested…but I started an update list for those of you who don’t get them from TSR. Feel free to join, here’s the link: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/jaesha_fics/
Chapter 24 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
The SunnyD AwardsHey! Look what I won!!
The Trouble With Keeping Promises







A/N: How long has it been? A month? Longer? Geez… So I got struck with major writer’s block. And coupled with a new job, I didn’t have time to work it out. But you can thank James (who is just as gorgeous in person as he is on tv) and my Merry Band of Fangirls, specifically spikes_cj and Yani who gave me a little ego boost.

So, without further adieu…







The motorcycle sped down the long length of black asphalt that led to home. It was eerily quiet despite the time of day and area that they were passing through, normally being busy and bustling with activity. But there was neither a car nor a soul in sight.

Spike supposed it was fitting considering the events that had transpired that afternoon. Almost as if the world around them had no choice to halt and stand back as a window into something horrible and unspeakable was opened.

It had taken Buffy a long time to even say anything, let alone go about telling her story to Faith. In fact, there was such a long pause that Spike was sure that Buffy had no interest in letting Faith in. Of course, the thing about Buffy was she had an uncanny way of surprising him.

The way she was holding onto him, her arms banded tightly around his waist and her cheek smashed against his back, made it painfully clear that she was still unsure of how wise her decision to open up to anyone other than him had been. She was scared, but oddly enough, her fear seemed to be for him instead of herself. The first thing Buffy had asked after she had finished with her story had been whether or not Spike would get in trouble for helping her.

Truthfully, Spike hadn’t even thought about the ramifications of his actions in helping her until Faith had laid it all out. Not that anything she had said made a bloody difference in his mind. She could have told him he’d be sent to the Tower of London and tortured or burned at the stake and he still wouldn’t have let Buffy go.

Unfortunately, nothing about Faith’s estimation of the matter was very comforting. There were too many holes in the system to make any good outcome viable. Top it off with Buffy’s father being who he was and they really didn’t have a chance in hell of getting this to work out to their advantage.

They finally turned into the parking lot of their apartment complex and Spike made quick work of parking the bike before hopping off. He yanked his helmet from his head and moved to help Buffy take hers off as well.

She had a dazed look about her; the usually present sparkle in her green eyes was gone and left in its place was a glazed and glassy dullness. The color was gone from her face and there were dried tear tracks down her cheeks. Her hands were shaking slightly as he picked them up and held them in his.

“Buffy, let’s go inside, yeah?” When he got no response, he titled her chin upwards, still quite dismayed that she refused to look at him. “C’mon, luv. You’ll feel better if we go inside.”

Her eyes darted upwards. “No, I won’t, Spike. Nothing is going to make this better.”

Spike sighed. “Don’t talk like that. We just had a little setback, is all.”

“A little setback? Did you even hear what Faith said? If my father finds me, he’ll…” She trailed off as her voice began to weaken and hot tears filled her eyes. “He’s going to win and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

The doubt was there, had always been there, nibbling away at his confidence. Spike wasn’t stupid. He knew that the cards were stacked against them, but that didn’t mean they should stop fighting. Besides, if it was the one and only thing his father had ever taught him, it was that there was no such thing as a fair fight.

And Spike was well-versed in the art of fighting dirty.

“I don’t give a soddin’ fuck what Faith said. She’s not living this, we are an’ I am not gonna let anythin’ happen t’ you no matter what the law says,” he told her with a strong resolve in his voice. He traced the line of her cheekbone with his thumb and studied the defeated look on her face.

“You say that like it means anything,” she replied miserably.

His jaw ticked with the growing anger churning inside of him. He wasn’t sure who he was more pissed off at. Her father for creating this whole mess or her for giving up so easily. Or perhaps at Faith for not even bothering to offer a kind word, instead choosing to lay everything on the table like cold surgical instruments rather than show a little compassion.

“Stop it,” he growled, jerking her off the motorcycle. Once she was standing in front of him, looking bewildered and shocked at his actions, he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a rough shake. “If you want him t’ win, then you are well on your way t’ helpin’ him accomplish that, you bloody silly girl!”

The outrage that crossed her face was a welcome sight. She needed to be strong or she might as well hop right back on that bus and serve herself up to that bastard of an old man she had. Even if it meant that she hated Spike just a little, if his harsh words helped her to realize what needed to be done then it was worth it.

“So what? You’re not even gonna try anymore, is that it? You hear a few discouraging words from someone, who I’m not sure you even trust, and you’re ready t’ throw it all t’ the fuckin’ wind? You might as well pack your things an’ run back t’ LA now, if that’s your attitude.”

“What do you want me to do, Spike? What can I do? Nothing! That’s what. You act like anything I do will-”

“First off, it’s not jus’ you. It’s you an’ me, together, tryin’ t’ suss this out. Secondly, we have t’ at least make the bleedin’ effort. Jus’ layin’ down and settin’ out the welcome mat is not an option because neither of us want t’ see you back at your father’s.”

A choked sob escaped her throat and she wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t fight him.”

“Yes, you can, luv,” he said, his heart aching to see her so upset. “Buffy, you don’t even know how strong you are, how strong you can be. Hell, you made it this far. Most people wouldn’t have even tried, but you did.”

“There wasn’t anything else I could do, Spike. That’s not being strong, it’s being desperate,” she replied, her saddened tone becoming jagged with cynicism.

This was where it began. These moments of doubt and mistrust in hope. This was how someone who began life so innocent and wide-eyed became a jaded, miserable person. It didn’t happen overnight. Oh, no, it took years to develop the kind of anger and pessimism that was present in someone like Spike, but grow it did. Little by little, day by day, and year by year the silent cries of outrage and hopelessness piled up, layering themselves until everything else was buried far below the surface.

Buffy was beginning down a path that Spike had sworn not to let her tread.

His breath was coming in deep pants as he tried to suppress the raging emotions that threatened to break free from him. He felt torn, all at once wanting to cry, laugh, and tear something apart.

Honestly, he didn’t know how else to get through to her. He was certainly no expert on women and it didn’t help that this particular woman was still a teenager with raging emotions and instability. Top it off with the added stress of the situation and he was as useless as a chimp changing the oil of a Boeing 747.

“What do you want me t’ do, baby?” His voice softened a little, knowing that, as usual, his anger was not helping the situation. “God, don’t you think I want this t’ end? Don’t you think I wish I could just hold you an’ keep you safe from whatever nasties are out there? Don’t you think I would love t’ just be rid of the soddin’ bastard? I want t’, but I can’t, Buffy, an’ it’s killin’ me t’ know that I am bloody helpless.”

The black look on her face began to fade into blue as tears began to form in her eyes. She was trying to hold on to the comfort of cynicism, but in the end, her emotions were too strong to keep hidden.

“I’m so sorry,” she said between sobs, burying her head in Spike’s chest. “I should have just l-left.”

“Left? What are you talkin’ about?” He tried to pry her away so that he could look at her, but she wouldn’t budge.

She sniffled, grabbing handfuls of his shirt like she was about to fall. “I didn’t want to get you involved, but I was so scared. I thought…I thought if I just stayed with you that it would all go away.”

God, if that were only true. Fact of the matter was Spike couldn’t do much more than he was already doing now and if it came down to it, he wouldn’t be able to stop Buffy’s father from taking her. That scared him most of all.





******





Buffy accepted the glass of water from Spike’s hand and stared at it for a moment before taking a sip.

“Better, luv?”

Sitting down next to her on the couch, Spike gave her a soft smile. It was a far cry from how he had acted earlier, but Buffy knew that Spike could be a dominant, angry male just as easily as he could be gentle and caring. It was that combination that allowed her to love him, seeing his strength and power sitting side by side with his ability to give support and affection.

She frowned slightly. It was getting harder and harder to keep her feelings from him. Lord only knew that she wasn’t that great at holding her emotions at bay during a normal day so add in some stress- okay, a lot of stress- and she was doubly worse at it.

“Am I losin’ you again, Buffy?”

“No, no, I’m just…” she trailed away, her gaze transfixed once more by the glass of water. “Just have a lot on my mind, you know?”

Spike hummed in agreement. “I do.”

They shared a comfortable moment of silence before Buffy finally spoke again.

“What do you think Faith is going to do?”

“About?”

“You. Me. That private detector guy.” Nervously, she lifted the glass to her lips and took a drink.

“Not sure. She has every right to arrest me, take you into custody, and ignore that bloody git locked up for bird watchin‘. She’s a cop first and foremost, luv, our friendship be damned. It’s hard to say what she’ll do,” he replied flatly.

“Well, she didn’t arrest you today, so that’s good, right?” Buffy giggled humorlessly. “I made a mistake in telling her, didn’t I?”

Spike shook his head. “No. You needed t’ tell someone who could actually do somethin’ about this mess and of all the people you coulda told, she’s the only one I trust.”

With a sigh of semi-relief, Buffy sunk back against the cushions of the couch. The fact that Spike trusted Faith made her decision to open up a little easier to handle.

“Do you trust her because you…s-slept with her?” The minute the words had left her mouth she wished she could take them back. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know, she did, but every time she asked a question like this she felt stupid and naïve. And really the last thing she wanted to do was to make the big flashing sign announcing her immaturity any brighter.

Spike looked at her a little dumbfounded for a minute. See, she knew it was a dumb question.

She opened her mouth to say she was sorry and to forget about it, but he waved her off.

“Buffy, I-” His lips clamped shut as if he knew he was about to say the wrong thing and thought better of it. “No. No, that’s not the reason I trust her. The fact that I slept with her really has nothin’ t’ do with trusting her.”

“Then why do you?”

He took in a sharp breath and ran a hand over his face. “She was my friend. We told each other things, things we’d never told anyone else, and for a while the world felt…less lonely.”

Buffy tried hard not to feel hurt by his admission, but she couldn’t help it. He was basically saying that he told Faith things that he couldn’t tell her. What was she? Didn’t he feel like he could trust her? Why couldn’t he tell her these things?

“If you meant so much to each other then why aren’t you together?” Buffy practically spat out.

“What’s this now? You get mad at me for lyin’ an’ now I tell you the God’s honest truth and you’re still mad? Bloody hell, girl, what do you want from me?”

“You’re the one who said you told each other everything. You act like she’s so special,” Buffy retorted.

“No, I don’t! And you’re the one who bloody asked!”

“Only because you said that-”

“Stop! Just stop, Buffy,” he shouted, holding his hand up to halt her rebuttal. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous. Why are we fightin’ about this?”

“Because you said-”

Spike stood up suddenly and stared up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm himself. “You can’t keep gettin’ mad at me for answerin’ your questions truthfully, Buffy. If you can’t handle the answer, don’t ask the soddin’ question.”

Her anger was replaced immediately by sadness and an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. He was right. All he did was answer her question and she had to twist it around, making it into an argument. God, why was she such an idiot? Why couldn’t she be more mature?

“So, let’s get somethin’ straight right now, luv. I have no interest in being with Faith or any other bird for that matter.” He sat down next to her and tilted her chin back. “You’re it for me. You’re the one I want t’ be with, Buffy. So, I want you t’ stop thinkin’ I’m gonna go out an’ find someone else. I told you we were together, yeah?”

Buffy nodded, reaching up to wipe a stray tear away.

“Okay, then. An’ I have every intention of tellin’ you everythin’ I told her an’ more. You haven’t been here with me for that long, luv, give it some time. Besides, we’ve been a little preoccupied with other things.”

“Yeah,” Buffy chuckled, “we really have.”





******





Spike tightened his arms around Buffy as they snuggled together on the couch. It was becoming less and less difficult for him to use words like ‘snuggle’ and ‘cuddle’ and any other girly words that were used in describing the act of holding his woman. And hell, ‘cuddling’ felt damn good to him.

Not that he would ever admit to that.

She moaned softly in her sleep and struggled to get closer to him. It had been a hard day for both of them and while Buffy had seemed to calm down a little, Spike knew the events were still weighing heavily on her.

He supposed he could have prevented a lot of it if he had just told her the truth, but it was a little late for that now. All he could do was try and be honest with her in the future. He had been so close to blowing it by lying to her and now he couldn’t even think about the reasons why he’d done what he’d done. It was wrong to try justifying his actions no matter how well-intentioned they were.

Fuck, who knew that this whole relationship deal could be so hard? If she were just a one-night stand, lying would have been expected and accepted by both sides. But she wasn’t a one-night stand and she not only expected but needed the truth. She needed to be reassured that he truly cared for her and that he meant what he said.

Which was why lying to her had hurt her so badly.

He wanted to smack himself upside his thick skull, but he had a handful of Buffy in his arms. How could he have been so stupid? …Yet again.

Reaching up, he brushed a strand of her long blond hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She rubbed her head against the pillow of his arm and mumbled something.

Spike leaned down as close as he could in his current position, trying to hear what she was saying. He had expected random incoherence and secretly hoped for a bit of dirty talk, but that’s not what he got.

“Love you, Spike.”








So, I’d like to address the last comment I received for this fic. I didn’t leave the fight hanging unfinished. Buffy and Spike’s problems run a lot deeper than just the simple act of him lying to her. Sure, lying was the catalyst for the argument, but whether Spike had lied or not, they would have still fought. Buffy feels like Spike lied to her because he doesn’t see her as an adult or capable of handling adult issues. Spike treats Buffy like she’s a sixteen year old girl and Buffy feels like she should be treated as an adult. Neither of them have been thinking about how their actions are making the other person feel.

In short, the lying fight is done and over with. It did end. But there are other issues that Buffy and Spike will have to face and until they address those problems, the tension is going to be thick. Hope that clarifies…thanks, Jae.
Chapter 25 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
Just found out! Now nominated at Love's Last Glimpse for Best Fantasy, Best WIP, and Best Spike Characterization~ Round 21!!! Thankies!!
Banner By effection





A/N: Okay, so you know how you haven’t heard from me since I updated PA last? Well, this freakin’ chapter was why. Two weeks in the making, my darlings. I just hope it lives up to all the hype. Enjoy. ~Jae











Love you, Spike.

He was a jumble of emotions from the moment she had uttered those words. At some point, he knew he would be hearing them come from her, he just hadn’t been expecting it then. Even if he had been, it probably would have had the same effect.

It was happiness and absolute fear rolled into this one throbbing beat, a steady hum of hope and dread. It was a bright, warm feeling in his chest and a sinking freeze in the pit of his stomach. It was nothing that he thought it would be and more than he could have ever dreamed of.

Buffy loved him. She may not have been conscious when she’d said it, but he doubted it no less. Suddenly, things were quite clear.

There was a time when love was an unwanted emotion. Love meant weakness and submission, an excuse to be taken advantage of. How many times had he heard his mother say that she wasn’t going to leave his abusive, son of a bitch father because she loved him? How many times had his father apologized and professed his undying love, begging forgiveness for hurting her?

Of course, his father had never loved Anne. What had started out as a quick roll in the hay had turned into a marriage soon after she found out she was pregnant with William. Back then, it wasn’t so uncommon for people to get married to avoid the stigma of an out-of-wedlock child, especially those who had high social standing like his father’s family had. Marriage to Anne had been forced upon Alistair Pratt and he never let her forget it.

As a young child, William had learned that love was a bad word. Love gave his father permission to treat his mother the way he had. Love was the excuse used whenever his mother had to explain why his father beat him black and blue. Spike could still remember her soft cooing while she wrapped a bandage around his tiny little ribs when he was four, telling him how much his father loved him and that everything would be okay.

It was better to keep love out of things. Less complicated that way.

Women had come and gone from his life. Most of them were not spared a second thought after he left their apartment or motel room or where ever they had managed to get it on. A few of them had been steady booty calls, like Faith, but he had never been attached to any of them.

He knew men who used every line in the book to get a woman to sleep with them, even going as far as to say they loved them. Spike had never had any trouble with just telling the truth. ’Nothing serious’, ’no strings attached’, ’only physical’, no matter how brutally honest he was, the ladies still flocked to him like he was God’s gift.

He enjoyed women. He’d been with young ones and older ones, tall ones and short ones, blonds and brunettes. Sexually frustrated wives, slightly experienced mid-western co-eds, kinky girls from Vegas (and everywhere else), shy and sweet, wild and willing. The sex was interesting and surprising.

And yet, when he thought of Buffy, all of his exploits made him sick to his stomach. He wasn’t worthy of her love and devotion, not when he was so tainted. There was nothing about him that wasn’t damaged and torn.

What if he wasn’t able to love? Perhaps what he had thought was a conscious decision to keep his emotions out of his ‘relationships’ was really his rationalization for his inability to feel anything. Could he honestly say he had cared for any of those women? The answer was a cold, hard no. Beyond the comfort of their bodies, he felt nothing for them.

But when he was with Buffy… The feeling was indescribable. It was so much more than a physical reaction, it was… Even now, he struggled to make sense of it. How could one tiny girl make him feel so much when all he had really ever known was numbness or anger?

Love. What did that even mean? It was used often enough in daily life. Well, not in his daily life, but he heard it all the time. Did everyone who said it really mean it? That, he would guess, was a no. His father said it and Spike knew the bastard hadn’t ever meant it. Buffy had said it…

Buggering hell, he didn’t know what to believe anymore.



******





Buffy frowned as she glanced at Spike and Xander sitting on the couch, watching a boxing match on television.

“He’s acting like I don’t even exist, Anya,” Buffy said miserably.

Anya flipped the page of her magazine before looking up. “Well, that’s pretty normal. There are manly sports on.”

“So, then its okay for him to completely ignore me? That’s not right.”

“I never said it was okay. That’s just the way it is.” Anya popped a potato chip in her mouth and washed it down with some iced tea. “Face it, Buffy; men can only focus on one thing at a time. Right now that one thing is two men beating each other to a bloody pulp.”

Shaking her head, Buffy sighed. “That’s the problem though. He’s been ignoring when there are no sports on TV.”

“If there are half-naked women on TV, they tend to focus on that too.”

“Anya, there is no TV.”

“Huh? You have a TV. What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this past week. I’m talking about how Spike hardly even talks to me now.” Buffy’s gaze fell to her lap, her hands fidgeting restlessly. “I don’t think he likes me anymore.”

Anya’s brow furrowed as she looked over at Spike then back to Buffy. “Spike doesn’t like you anymore? Ha! That’s pretty stupid.”

“What?”

“Stupid. You do know what stupid means, right?”

“Yeah, but why-”

“Spike is crazy about you, Buffy. It’s obvious to the rest of us, so if you can’t see it then you must either be blind or stupid,” Anya said bluntly.

Buffy couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes. Frustration surged through her and she wanted to scream. Why was it that everyone was so sure of Spike’s feelings for her when it felt like he just wanted her to go away?

It had started the morning after their meeting with Faith. He had begun to put a very tangible distance between them, spending more and more time in his room with the door shut and not wanting to do things with her. At first, she thought he just needed a little space, but as the days rolled by, she became worried that there was something else going on.

She had tried to talk to him on a couple of different occasions, but he brushed her off every time, telling her that they’d talk about it later. But later never came and she was left still wondering what she’d done wrong this time.

“Then why doesn’t he want to be around me?”

Anya shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he has a lot on his mind. When Xander is stressed out about work, he has trouble performing.”

“This has nothing to do with sex, Anya,” Buffy replied through clenched teeth.

“Everything has to do with sex.”

Buffy threw her hands up in the air. She couldn’t win with this woman.

Maybe she has a point, a voice inside her head said.

No, that was ridiculous. Spike wanted to wait, right? That’s what he had told her. He was the one who had turned her down in the first place, so that couldn’t be the reason.

Suddenly, it dawned on her. He had been fine until she’d had her little breakdown after getting back from the police station. God, she must have freaked him out or something. He probably thought she was too needy or just too much trouble. She’d read somewhere that men didn’t like needy women. That must be the reason. It had to be!




******





Xander handed some money to his wife before giving her a kiss on the cheek, then he watched as she and Buffy made their way down the stairs. He shut the door and turned to his friend.

“Alright, are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?” He asked, walking towards the couch.

Spike didn’t answer for a long time; he just stared at the floor like there wasn’t a single thought in his mind. Something was going on and Xander was bound and determined to find out what.

“Hello? Earth to the bleached wonder.” Xander waved his hand in front of Spike’s face, hoping to break him out of whatever trance he was in.

Snapping to attention, Spike slowly turned to face him. “She said it.”

“Er, okay. She as in…Buffy? And she said, uh, what?”

“You know,” Spike replied, his eyebrows wiggling further and further up his forehead.

“Oh, you mean she said- Ohhhh! She said that.” Suddenly it all made sense. No wonder the guy was spooked.

Spike nodded. “Yeah.”

“So, what did you do?” Please don’t say you laughed in the poor girl’s face or something. I’d have to kick your ass for that.

“Nothing. I just laid there.”

Xander’s eyes bugged out. “She said it during sex?”

“What?” Spike jumped a little. “No! No, she was…I was….we were sleeping on the couch.”

“Ah, I see. So there was no sex then?”

Spike gave him a pointed look. “You and your wife are a pair matched in heaven, mate.”

“So…” Xander leaned forward like the motion was supposed to entice Spike into giving up the story.

“No. No sex. We haven’t…gone there yet.”

Interesting. He had known Spike for years, ever since the guy had moved over from England and into the apartment across the hallway. Not once had Xander ever seen Spike get attached to a woman. He’d never introduced any of them to his friends or even really spoke of them.

That’s how Xander knew Buffy was different.

Okay, so he had to be honest, the fact that she was only sixteen really squigged him out, but he also had to say that she didn’t act like any sixteen year old girl he’d ever known. Besides, Spike hadn’t intended to get involved with Buffy. It just happened that way.

“You’re not sayin’ much,” Spike commented after a couple of minutes.

Xander blinked. “Just surprised, I guess. I mean, no offense, but you’re not exactly a paragon of virtue, Spike. I figured you would have…you know, already.”

Letting out a snort, Spike shook his head. “Yeah, I’m a bit shocked myself.”

“Have you asked her about it yet?”

“What? Sex?”

Now it was Xander’s turn to roll his eyes. “About her feelings, stupid.”

Spike shook his head. “I don’t know what t’ say.”

“You could just ask.”

Xander was a little confused. Spike didn’t have trouble just coming out and saying whatever was on his mind. What was the big deal?

“Oh, I get it! If you ask her, she’s gonna want to know how you feel too and, let me guess, you have no freaking clue, do you?” Xander pointed at him.

“I-” Spike’s mouth snapped shut. “She shouldn’t. I’m a soddin’ bastard and she shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what? Love you?” Xander took a deep breath. “Dude, I hate to tell you, but you have no say in how she feels about you. You can tell her to not love you, you can tell her that you are the biggest asshole on the planet and all you’re going to do is hurt her, hell, you can tell her you suddenly have an interest in other men, but it won’t matter. If she loves you, nothing you say is going to make one bit of difference.

“Besides, what makes you so horrible, anyway? I’ve known you for a long time, Spike, and I’ve gotta say, you’re not a bad guy. And if you care for her half as much as I think you do, then you deserve her.”

“I don’t want t’ hurt her.”

“Then don’t,” Xander told him.




******





Buffy stared at the stark white ceiling above her bed and tried hard not to cry. Things hadn’t gotten any better after she and Anya had returned from the store. Spike still continued to stare at the stupid television and never even said a word to her.

They had walked from the Harris’ apartment in complete silence, Buffy lagging behind Spike as he made a quick pace across the lawn. Once they had arrived back at their own apartment, he muttered a good night and went to his room, leaving Buffy standing in the middle of the living room, completely lost.

She glanced at the alarm clock, sighing in frustration. It was almost two o’clock and sleep was just not coming. No matter how hard she tried her thoughts wouldn’t quiet down.

What was going to happen now? Would he want her to leave? Where would she go? Why was this happening?

Throwing the covers off, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t lie there and wonder what he was going to do next. If something bad was going to happen, she wanted to know.

She tiptoed across her room and opened her door slowly, peering out into the hallway. There weren’t any lights on that she could see, so she moved down the hall to Spike’s bedroom door.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute. What was she going to say? Suddenly, she couldn’t move, her feet firmly rooted into the hardwood floor. Looking down, she noticed the faint glow of light seeping underneath the door. That meant he was awake…or had fallen asleep with the light on.

“Just knock on the door, Buffy,” she whispered to herself, willing her body into motion.

The feeling in her arms returned and she raised her fist, knocking softly. Instead of waiting for a response, she cracked the door open.

Spike was sitting in the middle of his bed with photos and other bits of memorabilia spread around him, clad in only black drawstring pants. The pair of wire-rimmed glasses she had seen him use a week ago were perched on his nose as he studied a picture in his hand.

“Spike?” Her voice sounded high and weak.

He looked up at her, a shocked expression coloring his face. “Buffy? Are you okay? Is there something wrong?”

“No-I-Well, um…”

“What is it, pet?”

She took a deep breath, preparing herself. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, why would I want you t’ leave?” Spike slid off the bed and walked over to her, his hands coming up to rest on her shoulders. “What’s goin’ on, luv?”

The tears that had been free-flowing earlier came back in full force. “You don’t want me anymore!” She cried.

His bright blue eyes widened. “Who told you that?”

“I don’t know what I did, but I can fix it. I swear, just tell me what I did wrong and I’ll make it better. I won’t cry anymore, I promise,” she said frantically, wiping her tears away with the heels of her hands and sniffling loudly. “Look, see, no more crying!”




******






Spike stood there dumbfounded, trying to figure out what the bloody hell was going on. Not much was making sense, but somehow Buffy had gotten it in her head that he didn’t want her anymore. Somehow she had-

Fuck!

This was all his bloody fault! A thousand different images swept through his mind, each one depicting him being a complete asshole to her, ignoring her, pushing her away. He had been so sodding concerned with his own damn feelings, he’d never stopped to think about what all of his self-reflection was doing to Buffy. Fuck, why was he always mucking things up?

“Buffy, you didn’t do anythin’ wrong,” he told her, brushing the wet strands of her hair back. “You could never do anythin’ wrong.”

“Then why? Why haven’t you wanted to be around me?” She asked, bewildered.

He ran a hand over his face, cursing himself. “I just needed some time, luv. I didn’t mean t’ make you think I didn’t want you. “

“Time for what?”

Ah, the moment of truth. It was every bit as hard as he thought it was going to be and then some.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the bed, sitting her down on the edge as he kneeled down in front of her.

“Can I ask you somethin’, pet?”

She bit her lip as she thought about it for a minute. “Yes.”

“How do you feel about me?” His heart started to pound the minute the words left his lips. There would be no turning back after this.

“You’ve done so much for me, Spike. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here,” she replied.

He smiled. “I know you’re grateful, Buffy. You tell me everyday. What I want t’ know is what are your…feelings for me?”

Her eyes were wide and glassy and a little gasp escaped her throat. “What? I-I don’t…”

“Do you love me?”

Buffy looked down at their intertwined hands and swallowed hard. “Yes,” she murmured, nodding her head slightly.

“Oh, Buffy, I-”

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I know that you don’t feel the same way, but I can’t help it.”

Spike reached out and tilted her chin up, holding her gaze. “Don‘t ever be sorry for that, luv. You don‘t know what it means that you…” A shaky breath filled his lungs as he gazed into her eyes. His head tilted to one side, giving him a new angle to study her at. He had so much to say, but the words seemed to lodge themselves in his throat. “I’m so bloody confused, that’s the truth of it, Buffy. I don’t know what it is that I’m feelin’.”

“It’s okay. I understand. I knew that you didn’t-”

“No, you don’t understand,” he told her roughly. With an expletive hidden not quite so well under his breath, he ran his hand through his hair. How could he explain it to her when he couldn’t even explain it to himself? “You make me feel somethin’, Buffy. I don’t know what it is, but it’s there. All the bloody time. I can’t get you outta my mind, outta my blood. I’m drownin’ in you.”

“I’m sor-”

He stood suddenly. “Dammit, Buffy! Stop sayin’ you’re fuckin’ sorry! If anyone should be sayin’ sorry, it’s me. I’m no soddin’ good at this.”

“And I am?” She cried. “This is all new to me too, you know. But I can’t just turn off my feelings.”

“Neither can I.”

“You can, too! All of those women you-”

“They weren’t you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t feel anythin’ for them because they weren’t you. Nothin’ t’ turn off.”

“You didn’t even know me then.”

Spike smiled softly. “Doesn’t matter. I knew they weren’t the right ones. Somewhere in here-” He patted his chest, his palm colliding with the place where his heart was. “-I knew. I never felt with them the way I feel when I’m with you.”

“How do…you…feel when…you’re with…me?” Her voice was trembling as she tried to allay her twitching hands.

His jaw clenched tightly. How he longed to tell her what she wanted to hear, but he had promised not to lie to her. And while it may not be a complete lie, it still wasn’t a truth in his mind. If he couldn’t even admit it to himself, then he shouldn’t be admitting it to her.

He moved forward and fell to his knees in front of her. His strong, calloused hands explored her face, his fingertips tracing the curves of her lips, of her cheekbone, of her eyelids as they fluttered shut.

“I can’t say it, Buffy. It’s…too bloody soon for me. You’ve been healin’ me, but I’m still a broken man.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, tasting her salty tears and sweetness. “I want to. God, how I want t’ love you. You deserve so much more than I can give you.”

Her hazel green eyes popped open at his admission and his heart skidded to a halt at the wonder and awe he saw reflected in their depths.

“That’s not true, Spike. You’ve given me so mu-” Her voice faltered, but instead of shyly looking away, she smiled brightly. “You’ve given me everything.”

Oh, he didn’t know about that. In his mind, he was still falling short of his own expectations when it came to her. He certainly wasn’t doing enough to keep her safe and if these past weeks were any indication, he’d done a piss-poor job at keeping her happy, too. Not that it surprised him much since he was well aware of the fact that he was as emotionally mature as a three year old.

Buffy was all emotion and he was dead inside except for the slow burn of flames that she seemed to stoke with just her mere presence. It was no wonder they had such issues with relating to one another beyond the tragic turns their lives had taken. He’d never been a teenager in his life, growing up much too fast to experience the trials and tribulations of adolescence (of course, from what he’d heard, he wasn’t missing much there). What the bloody hell did he know about how teenagers thought or felt?

“I love you, Spike.”

His chest felt heavy and full. It was a strange sensation, almost as if a void had been filled with something warm and tangible when he hadn’t even realized that there was a hole there to begin with. It spread through his veins, coursing along with his blood and circulating throughout his whole body.

He clutched at his heart, his eyes shutting tightly against the tingle and simmer that flowed through him. Was he losing it? It was too much for him to take and he thought for sure his sanity was slipping away.

“Are…are you okay?” Buffy asked, concerned, her hand coming up to touch his shoulder. “You’re not having a heart attack or something, are you?”

A low, rumbling laughter tumbled out of his chest, filling him with more of the same strange feeling. “No, luv. I’m a bit young for one o’ those just yet.”

The cute little crease between her eyebrows formed clearly. “Oh. I just…you were holding your chest and…”

Her voice trailed off as he brought her hand to cover his heart. “Beatin’ hard an’ fast, yeah?”

She nodded, her fingers splaying across his hot skin. Spike hissed at the feel of her, suddenly, getting very aroused. Just from her bloody hand? God, you are such a git!

“So, it’s okay, then?”

Huh? “What’s that, luv?”

A nervous smile played at her lips as she glanced at the floor. “You know. The whole ‘I love you’ thing,” she replied. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and winced involuntarily.

It had taken him an entire week to get that question answered. Many sleepless nights and uncomfortable days were spent just thinking about it. All that time and all he had really figured out was that nothing had ever seemed so right before. Now, exactly what that meant, he hadn’t a sodding clue, but one thing was for sure, it was certainly okay. It was more than okay.

“Because I was thinking…maybe…”

He cocked his head to the side. “’Maybe’ what?”

“It’s okay if you love someone.”

“Of course it’s okay t’ love someone, pet.”

She shook her head and Spike couldn’t help the confusion swirling around in his head. Was this some sort of teenaged code talk or was he just that dense?

With a deep breath, Buffy sat up and looked him straight in the eye. “If you love someone, it’s okay to have sex with them.”

Nope, not code talk. He really was just that dense.
Chapter 26 by Jaesha
A/N: I fear this one might have run away with itself. ; - ) Thanks to The Queen of The Written Word and to The Best Damn Smut Writer for all the help. Without the both of you this chapter would not have been possible. *bows* I am not worthy!!

And now…









Spike was…well, he was gobsmacked, to be honest. He had never expected her broach the subject of sex after the emotionally charged conversation that had just taken place. Couple that with the fact that had had no bloody clue how to respond and he was thoroughly dumbstruck. He imagined he looked like a guppy right about now with his mouth gaping open, gasping for breath…sanity.

She had a hopeful expression on her sweet, young face. Green eyes sparkled with anticipation and her breathing was heavy, her breasts rising and falling under the scrap of material she called a shirt. Her skin looked soft and shimmering in the dim light, touchable golden silk. Fuck, but she was gorgeous.

He was torn between wanting to protect her and wanting to give into his own selfish desires. The responsible adult in him was screaming to tell her that she shouldn’t waste her precious gift on him. Everything else? Well, everything else was telling him to make her his.

The decision had been made long ago that being some sort of father figure was out of the question. With his admission that they were together, Spike had also passed the point of no return when it came to keeping their relationship completely platonic. At this point, how could he deny her?

Strictly speaking, sex was naturally the next step in the evolution of their relationship. Whether it was right or not, Spike couldn’t say. All he knew was how he felt.

He ran a hand through his platinum curls and sighed. “Jus’ so we’re on the same page here, luv. Are you sayin’ that you want t’ have sex with me?”

“I-I think s-so,” she replied shakily.

“Buffy, this is a big decision an’ if I were t’ even consider goin’ all the way with you, you’d have t’ be a lot more sure than ’I think so’.”

Her gaze shifted to the floor. “I just thought that…I love you. Isn’t that a good enough reason to want to have sex?”

“C’mere,” he said, reaching out for her. Once she took his hand, he led her to the edge of the bed and had her sit down as he kneeled in front of her. He rested his forearms on her thighs and leaned forward, looking up into her bottomless hazel-green eyes.

“That’s the best reason, pet. But are you sure that’s why you really want t’ do it? ‘Cause I get the feelin’ you’re out t’ prove somethin’ an’ that’s not a good enough reason. In fact, it’s one o’ the worst reasons,” he told her, his fingertips rubbing against the smoothness of her skin like they had a mind of their own.

“But I want to be with you, Spike. When you touch me… i-it’s like everything makes sense.” The open honesty that she was showing humbled him. They had come so far since that first day. Gone was the fear and mistrust that he had seen swimming in her eyes only a few weeks ago.

He smiled. “I know what you mean. You make me feel the same way, kitten.”

She started to respond, but Spike cut her off, sensing that she thought he was giving her an answer. “I’m still not sure you understand exactly what you’re gettin’ yourself into, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is if we do this, there isn’t any turnin’ back. Things will change. For you. For us,” he replied, holding her gaze.

“I like change.”





******






His expression was somber at best, but it was what she saw in his cobalt blue eyes that made her hopeful that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. They sparkled behind the wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, want pooling in their rapidly darkening depths.

“Luv,” he sighed. “This is a big step.”

Buffy knew that Spike was only trying to protect her, to keep her from doing something she might regret later, but instead of making her question her decision, it only strengthened her resolve. His concern proved that he had feelings for her beyond just lust even more than his admission earlier. Words were only words unless there was action behind them.

“I know,” she replied softly. She tried to steady her trembling hands as she placed them over his and stared down at him. “I know you think I’m just a kid-”

“No, Buffy, I-”

“Please let me finish.”

Spike gazed at her for a long time, his jaw clenching tightly. “Okay.”

Buffy took a deep breath before beginning again. “I know you think I’m just a kid and maybe I act like it sometimes, but I’m not a little girl. I can make my own decisions. They might not always be the best decisions, but that’s just a part of growing. Making mistakes and learning from them, right?”

He nodded in response, wisely keeping his thoughts to himself. Buffy could tell he was a little leery of where she was taking this, figuring that her mention of making mistakes probably wasn’t sitting well with him. After all, that was exactly what he was trying to keep her from doing.

“Well, this is something I’ve been thinking about a lot. You keep telling me that we should wait, but when do we stop waiting, Spike? When my father finds me? When it’s too late?”

The fear on his face was undeniable. “That won’t happen, baby. I won’t let it.”

A sad smile formed on her lips and she could feel a hot tear slide down her cheek. “You can’t say that, Spike. We don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow or next week or next month. He could find me and I might never…what if I never see you again? What if-”

“Stop it! Jus’… Don’t talk like that, okay? Nothin’s gonna happen t’ you,” he told her, his hands grasping hers tightly and pulling them to his chest. His heart was beating wildly, much as it had before when she’d told him that she loved him. “I’d kill him, Buffy. If he ever tried, I’d kill him.”





******





It was a thought that had occurred to him only in rage before. Now, it was out of fear and he wasn’t more sure of anything else in his life. If the bastard tried to take her away from him, he would kill him.

Suddenly, he realized that he had spoken it aloud and his eyes shot up to look at her. He expected to see a horror-filled expression, but only sadness marred her beautiful features.

“Buffy, if we do this, I can’t be held responsible for what might happen if someone…anyone tries t’ take you away from me. We do this an’ you’ll be mine.” Forever, the little voice inside his head wanted to add, but Spike bit it back. How could he talk about forever when he still couldn’t admit to her or himself that he loved her? It seemed cruel especially when they were only living on borrowed time.

He couldn’t deny it any longer. For a long time, he had convinced himself that they had all the time in the world, that the looming fear of her father was no more than an annoyance. But now…it felt like reality was crashing down on him like a tidal wave, cold and stinging.

Buffy was right. How much time did they really have? Days? Weeks? Months? It wouldn’t be long before Buffy’s father got sick of the game he was playing and went in for the kill. Someone with that much power and wealth could have every resource under the sun at their disposal with little more than a snap of their fingers and Spike had been a fool to think that Hank Summers didn’t have at least an estimate of his daughter’s whereabouts.

“I’m yours already,” she whispered, so softly that Spike almost didn’t hear it.

Without warning, he stood, pulling her up with him. In one swift move, he captured her lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue dipping in to plunder her mouth. She whimpered as a shudder rolled through her body and her arms came up to wrap around his lean waist.

He pulled away slightly, gazing upon the passion-drunk haze that had taken over her face. “Luv, are you sure about this?”

She blinked slowly, trying to process the words, before nodding. “Yes. I’m sure.”

With a wide grin, he kissed her lightly before letting her go. “Jus’ be a minute, kitten. Gotta clean off the bed.”

So much time had been spent convincing himself that waiting was the best thing for both of them that now, when the object of his desires was finally going to be obtained, he felt a rush of nervous energy coiling within him, making him almost giddy.

He kneeled on the bed to gather up the memorabilia he’d been looking through, old pictures and letters mostly. After days of self-reflection, he had needed to collect his thoughts and process his feelings. He had hoped that digging up the past might help him make sense of it all, but he found it only confused him more.

After dumping the photos in a box beside the bed, Spike made his way to the edge of the mattress and motioned for Buffy to come to him.

Her hands moved to his face, her fingertips ghosting against his hot skin and he closed his eyes at the feel of her. It meant so much to him that she felt comfortable enough to touch him without direction, that she wasn’t afraid to express herself.

“Do you need to wear these to see me?” She asked quietly, fingering the frames of his glasses gently.

“Need somethin’. I’m blind as a bat without them,” he replied with a sheepish smile. “Could go an’ put in my contacts. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers before letting his tongue flick out and tease her. He lingered for a while, nipping and playing with her bottom lip before finally relinquishing his hold on her.

“Be right back, luv,” he told her, leaving the bedroom and sauntering down the hall to the bathroom.

He flicked the light on and went to the medicine cabinet where his contacts were stored. Pulling the small container off the shelf, his gaze went suddenly to the box of condoms that was on the top shelf.

Normally, he kept them in his bedside drawer, but as soon as he and Buffy had started to get physical, he had decided it was best to take the temptation away. If he didn’t have protection, there was no way they were getting past third base since Spike took safe sex very seriously. Too many nasty things out there to be careless not to mention getting a girl in the family way. Neither prospect sounded very attractive to him.

It was a good thing Buffy had mentioned his glasses. Nothing better to ruin the mood than having to stop in the middle to go searching for bloody rubbers. And he would have stopped, no matter how far gone he’d been, he would have stopped.

He took his glasses off and made quick work of putting his contacts in before placing the container back in the cabinet, then he reached up and grabbed the box of condoms.

The door to his bedroom was cracked open slightly and he took a moment to peer through it, wanting to see what Buffy was doing. She was sitting Indian-style on the bed, the light catching her supple skin and making it glow.

He pushed the door open and her face lit up. “Hi,” she said in an upbeat, but timid voice.

So, the girl was a bit nervous then. Sometimes she could trick him into believing she was all-confident and she had done a pretty good job of that moments ago, but now her anxiety was showing through. It was to be expected and truth be told, he was a little nervous himself.

He was far from being a virgin. Far, far, far from being, but it was different with Buffy. It had been no strings attached before with women who couldn’t have given a damn about him beyond what he could give them. There was no love there, no emotions, just the physical act. With Buffy, it was special and it meant something. And he wasn’t prepared at all.

Striding to the bed, he set the carton down on the nightstand before crawling up to join her, the mattress dipping under his weight. He moved her golden tresses behind one shoulder then leaned in to press a kiss to the slender column of her neck. She shivered and Spike could feel the goose bumps rise on her flesh.

“Scared, luv?” He asked, continuing to press his mouth against her skin, moving upward to the fleshy lobe of her ear.

“Not scared, just…” Her voice trailed off as his teeth nibbled at her ear.

“Nervous,” he rumbled, his tongue poking out to trace the delicate shell. “You’re safe with me, kitten. Not gonna do anythin’ you don’t wanna do.”

“What about the stuff I do want to do?”

He pulled back suddenly, not sure he had heard her correctly. She gave him a dazzling smile and Spike leered at her. “Baby, I’ll do anythin’ you want me to. All you gotta do is ask.”

She ducked her head slightly as a blush spread across her cheeks. It was bloody adorable the way she could speak her mind, and then get all timid on him.

“Can…can I touch you?” She asked, glancing up at him through her eyelashes.

In less than a second Spike went from semi-aroused to rock hard, his lungs intaking a sharp, almost painful breath as desire coursed through his system. The first and last time she had touched him, he’d almost lost it. No, there was no ‘almost’ about it. He had lost it, perhaps so much so that he had pushed her into doing something she didn’t really want.

This time was different, though. He wasn’t trying to distract her or make her forget and she wasn’t pushing him away. There were no ulterior motives here, just two people who wanted each other.

“Anythin’ you want, Buffy. I’m yours,” he finally replied, his voice heavy with unspent passion and need.

If she understood the connotations of his declaration, she didn’t show it. At this point, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t give her, do for her. He was hers.

He shifted and laid down on the bed, stretching his body out for her. If she wanted to explore his body, he certainly wasn’t going to stop her. Quite the contrary since, right at that moment, there wasn’t anything he wanted more than to feel her hands on him.

Grabbing her hand, he urged her to move closer. “Touch me, luv,” he instructed softly, barely able to keep the edge from his tone. He placed her hand on his chest then dropped his arm to the bed.

“How?”

A wicked smirk surfaced on his lips. “How ever. Jus’ feel me.”

His eyes shut tightly at the first feather-light touch, her fingertips skimming across his burning skin. She was careful to keep her hand far above his waist, instead choosing to focus her attention on the solid muscles of his chest. With the pad of her finger, she circled one tight nipple and Spike bit his bottom lip in anticipation.

She teased him for what felt like hours, but then, just when he least expected it, she pinched the hardened flesh, making him cry out. He felt her touch disappear and he opened his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding her arms close to her chest.

Spike reached up and grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips. He recalled that she had done the same thing the last time she had touched him and he’d made some sort of unintelligible noise. This was all new to her and she was unsure of herself.

“Nothin’ t’ be sorry about, pet. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I didn’t?”

He grinned and shook his head. “Uh-uh. Felt good. Love it when you touch me.”

“Yeah, but I’m not very good at it,” she replied, glancing away.

Instead of responding, he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her up before settling her over his hips. He pushed himself up and crashed his mouth against hers, enjoying the surprised noise that she let loose.

It wasn’t enough. Spike rolled them over so he was laying between her thighs, his body pressed to hers so tightly that he didn‘t know where her body began and his ended. He couldn’t stop his hips from rolling against her, seeking to relieve some of the pressure that had built up in his groin from her hesitant touches.

His kisses were becoming urgent and desperate and he could feel his control slipping a bit. He wanted to take things slow, not wanting to rush her, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back.

“How about I slip into the driver’s seat for a while, luv?” He asked, silently pleading for her permission to take things further.

“Mmmm-hmmmm.”




******






Buffy whimpered as Spike rose up, kneeling between her legs, making her feel like a part of her was missing. She stared up at him, the anticipation killing her as she waited for him to make another move.

“Bloody gorgeous, you are,” he said reverently, sending tingles throughout her body.

One of his hands slid up the soft skin of her leg, slowing as it neared the secret place at the apex of her thighs. Instead of touching her there, though, he detoured across her hip and up to the hem of her t-shirt. He pushed the shirt up past her stomach and a shiver rolled through her at the sensation of cool air touching her heated skin.

“Lift up,” he whispered, a look of pure concentration on his face.

Using her stomach muscles, she rose off the mattress and he yanked the shirt over her head, throwing it over his shoulder. Her nipples hardened painfully as his gaze roamed over her near-naked form, making her moan.

He leaned in and took one hard peak into his mouth, instantly soothing away the pain and creating pleasure in its wake. His hand cupped her other breast, massaging the firm mound with his fingers.

Her hips bucked when he finally plucked at the rosy nub all the while teasing its twin with his teeth. He groaned and pressed into her, his erection finding its way into her hot, cloth-covered crevice. It slid over her, the tip of him bumping against her clit and sending bolts of pleasure through her.

“Spike.” His name was a prayer on her lips as the sensations he was creating began to merge together, building a sweet tension in the lower part of her body.

He lifted his gaze to her before dropping a kiss between her breasts and licking a path downward, not stopping until he reached the waistband of her shorts. His nostrils flared and he growled an expletive as his hands found purchase on her hips. Moving down further, he dipped his head down, his mouth finding her through her clothing.

She jumped slightly. “Spike?”

The look in his eyes as he stared up at her made her heart begin to race. He looked wild, untamed. “Need t’ taste you. Fuck, baby…need you…gonna let me?”

She knew what his intentions were. Before when he had wanted to ‘taste’ her, he’d used his fingers, but now she knew he fully intended to put his mouth on her. It was through conversations with Anya and magazine articles that she had come to realize that’s what he’d wanted to do all along.

At first, the idea sounded strange to her. Why would anyone want to do something like that? It seemed so…dirty. But as time went on, she began to wonder if maybe there wasn’t some sense to it. If his touch felt that good down there, what would his tongue feel like? Besides, Spike wouldn’t do anything she wouldn’t like, right?

“Buffy?”

Temporarily relieved of her inner thoughts, Buffy looked up to find Spike staring at her, his expression pleading. “Yes,” she said softly.

He stalled for a minute, trying to give her ample time to change her mind, but when she didn’t say anything else, he reached for the waistband of her shorts and slid them down her legs. He placed a gentle kiss on her belly as he looped his fingers around her panties and repeated the motion of removing them.

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut. She hadn’t ever let anyone look at her down there and now she was sure she would die of embarrassment. A multitude of what ifs flittered through her mind, her self-doubt kicking in.

She felt his hand brush over the damp curls at the apex of her thighs and she whimpered.

“Open your eyes for me, kitten.”

Stubbornly, she tried to refuse, shaking her head. She could do this…she just couldn’t look at him while he did it.

He chuckled, a low rumbling noise that went straight through her. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Gonna make it so good for you, baby, but I need you t’ open your eyes. Nothin’ t’ be embarrassed about.”

“Says you!” She cried, her eyes popping open before she realized what she was doing.

Sometime while she’d had her eyes closed, he had scooted down so that he was eye level with her most intimate parts. From his point in between her legs, he smirked at her, his tongue curling behind his teeth.

“You’re beautiful here, luv,” Spike told her hoarsely. Suddenly, he drew his index finger down the length of her and she made a sound somewhere between a squeak and a groan. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, you are. Nothin’ to be ashamed about.”

He continued to rub her flesh, stopping only to tease the little needy bundle of nerves at the top unmercifully. Despite her previous determination not to look, she couldn’t do anything but stare at him in shock as he manipulated her body. Darts of pleasure stabbed at her, making her hips twitch and rise from the mattress.

“Spike…”

Her breathy moan must have urged him on because it wasn’t long after that he leaned in and ran his tongue from bottom to top. “Mmm, taste as good as I remember. Like…tart apples.”

His darkened gaze locked on to hers as he continued to lick slow lines up her wet, warm crevice. He wrapped his arm around her thigh, his hand coming to rest in the light brown curls above her pussy. Using his fingers, he opened her, giving him access that had once been denied.

She cried out when his mouth latched onto her clit, sucking the little knot into his mouth and letting his tongue lash over it. His other hand came up to hold her hips still as they bucked uncontrollably under his ministrations.

“That’s right, kitten. Jus’ let go an’ come for me. Need you t’ come for me,” he rumbled against her.

Before she could even process his words, she felt something press into her sensitive entrance. The pressure was light, at first, and she could feel it advance and retreat as it slid within her, then suddenly, there was more pressure. Every nerve was on fire, the friction pushing her closer and closer to the edge. His mouth covered again, quickly finding her clit and biting down on it gently.

The dam within her burst open and wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her. She screamed as her orgasm gained more momentum, Spike not letting up for a second as he continued to use his fingers and mouth and tongue on her sensitive flesh.

Flashes of light burned behind her eyes and tremors shook her body until she didn’t think she could take it anymore. She yelled out his name so many times that her voice was beginning to get raw.

Slowly, she came down from the pleasure-soaked high, panting and mewling softly.

“Wow…!”





******





Spike watched as a silly grin spread across Buffy’s face and felt a surge of manly pride at knowing he was the one who caused it.

He winced as he moved to sit up. His cock was beyond hard at this point and if he didn’t do something about it soon, he was sure he’d have a set of perpetual blue balls. He didn’t think he’d ever been this aroused before.

But this was the tricky part.

“Buffy?”

Her eyes were glazed over, but she tried to focus on him. “Hmm?”

“You okay there, luv?”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

If it didn’t hurt so much, he would have laughed. She was completely gone, lost in the afterglow of her orgasm, which, if her screams had any bearing, Spike would have bet was one helluva release.

He took a deep breath. “Do…do you still…want…me?” It came out sounding needy and weak. He would have loved to blame it on the pain, but he knew that wasn’t it.

The clarity slowly came back to her face and Spike tried in vain to identify the emotions that he saw there. If she refused him, he’d-

“Yes,” she replied, her eyebrows scrunching together. “Why are you asking me that?”

“I-” He frowned, not wanting to tell her he was worried that she would reject him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he was worried, but there it was anyway, churning in his gut. “I jus’ wanted t’ make sure that you hadn’t changed your mind, is all.” God, could you sound like a bigger git?

She smiled up at him brightly. “Nope, I haven’t changed my mind.”

He sighed in relief then leaned down to kiss her soundly. Without breaking the kiss, he stretched out his arm so that he could grab the box off the nightstand. He flipped the top open and pulled out a long strip, wishing the idiots who made them spent the extra two seconds to separate the little packets instead of just shoving them in a box.

Buffy pouted slightly as he pulled away. God help him, the sight of her lower lip poking out like that made him even harder.

Pushing aside his discomfort, he ripped a square off the strip and tossed the rest towards the nightstand. His hands went to his pants, tugging at the waistband before pushing them down his body. Suddenly unhindered, he felt a slight ease in the pain that his arousal was causing.

He glanced up at Buffy and found her wide-eyed, her mouth gaping open as she stared at his cock.

“Is it supposed to be that swollen?” She said out loud before clasping her hand over her mouth. “I-I-I-”

Grinning, Spike sat back on his heels making his cock jut out even farther. “Well, he is pretty anxious, pet.”

Buffy bit her lower lip. “Will it…um, fit?”

“It’ll fit. Jus’ gotta get your muscles t’ stretch a bit.” He could tell that she still wasn’t sure and he grabbed her hand, pulling her up so that she was sitting. “We’ll go slow an’ if it’s too much, we’ll stop, okay?”

She took a big breath of air into her lungs and held it for a couple of seconds before exhaling. “Okay.”

He kissed her sweetly before laying her back down and moving between her creamy thighs. Using his teeth, he ripped the tiny foil square open and removed the flesh-colored rubber, tossing the wrapper aside. He made quick work of putting the condom on and then set his attentions to the very delectable girl before him.

“Buffy, you know that this is gonna hurt a bit, right?” He asked with a concerned expression.

He loathed to cause her any pain, but this unfortunately was unavoidable. All he could do was be as careful with her as possible and hope that she said something if it got too bad.

She nodded. “I know. But I trust you.”

Those three little words meant almost to him as the other three little words she’d spoken. Trust. She trusted him. With every horrible thing that had happened in her life, she still had the ability to love and believe in someone else. The ability and desire to love and believe in him. His heart soared.

With one last question in his gaze, he moved closer to her, feeling her heat radiate around him. He positioned the head of his cock at her entrance and pushed in slightly. His hand slid over the skin just above her pubic bone, trying to soothe the tense muscles that lay beneath.

She was incredibly tight, but so very wet and he glided in with much more ease that he had anticipated. God, she felt like a hot velvet glove, squeezing him until he was sure he’d burst.

The tip of his cock hit the thin barrier of her maidenhead and he stopped moving so that she had time to adjust to his size. He was dying, of course, the need to drive into her almost taking hold over his senses, but he knew he had to keep his control.

He reached down and rubbed her clit with his thumb, trying to distract her from what was about to happen. About the worst thing she could do was tense up, that would only hurt her more.

“How’s that feel, kitten? Feel good, hmm?”

She was breathing heavily, squirming under his touch. “Spike…”

Hopefully, that meant yes.

Spike pulled back slowly, his hands leaving her pussy to grab onto her hips. With one swift motion, he thrust into her.

Buffy cried out, the pain clearly coloring her face. She fisted the bedspread tightly in her small hands and her teeth clenched together. He didn’t dare move, not yet, even as the muscles around him threatened to squeeze him to oblivion.

He leaned forward, kissing her mouth and her cheeks, tasting her pain…her tears. “My sweet girl,” he whispered against her lips. “I’m sorry.”

They remained still for what felt like forever, only the movements of their chests rising and falling in time with their breathing giving life to their suspended bodies. His muscles burned as they strained to deny what his body was urging him to continue. He felt her sweat-slicked skin against him, felt her body begin to relax as the pain dissipated, and he could do nothing but wait.

Suddenly, without warning, her hips shifted slightly, sending shards of pleasure through his body. A simple movement, her walls sliding against the sensitive head of his cock and he was a breath away from exploding.

“Buffy.” He grunted and shut his eyes, desperately seeking control. “Are you…fuck…can I…oh, god!”

She must have understood his incoherent rambling because she moved again, this time with a deliberate squeeze of her inner walls.

A growl escaped his lips as he pulled back and slid forward again, thrusting into her as gently as he could manage. He looked up at her face, needing proof that he wasn’t causing her more pain before continuing.

“It doesn’t hurt so much anymore,” she said, her teeth worrying the soft skin of her lower lip.

“You’re sure, kitten?”

She nodded, moving her hips again as her hands found the strong columns of his arms.

He grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his lean waist, making him slide further into her hot, welcoming depths. Slowly, he began thrusting, drinking in the sight of her wide-eyed wonderment as the pleasure overtook her body.

It was difficult, but he tried to focus on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. O…Oh, fucking hell! He couldn’t stop himself from moving within her faster and harder, her short pants and little moans cheering him on. Their hips slammed together, a slapping sound echoing in his ears and setting a beat to keep time to.

Her hands sought purchase on his shoulders, holding on like he was her lifeline. Small, sharp fingertips dug into his skin and Spike ground his teeth together to keep from letting loose on her.

She was driving him mad, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. The edge of what, he didn’t know and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He was teetering haphazardly on the precipice of something unknown, something powerful, something that wasn’t ready to be unleashed.

His hands slid under her hips and lifted up, bringing her closer to the driving part of him. He pulled almost all the way out of her before plunging back into her velvet heat.

“Feel good?” He rumbled as he continued to piston in and out of her, the mindless need to find release overtaking anything else.

Buffy cried out and held on tighter, her hips rolling against his as her body sought to increase the friction between them. She was so close, he could feel it. Her muscles continued to tighten around him, tension building deep in her core.

His eyes, once slitted and glazed over with desire, now opened to stare at her. God, she was beautiful…gorgeous…a fucking goddess, if he’d ever seen one. The light reflected off of her glistening skin, making her glow. Her head was tossed back in a complete act of wantonness, savoring every spark of pleasure he created within her and favoring him with a moan of satisfaction.

At some point during their lovemaking, she had ceased being a girl and had become a woman.

In the days that passed, Spike would wonder which realization had finally pushed him over the edge, but right now, the entirety slammed into him with a force that left him breathless.

His fingers dove into her blond mane of hair and jerked upward, smashing his lips against hers in a brutal passion. She whimpered, but met his kiss with the same ferocity, her tongue tangling with his until their flavors melded together.

Needing her release to fuel his own, he moved his hand between them and let his fingers dance against her clit.

Buffy pulled away suddenly, her breath coming in long draws before her pussy fluttered around him and she let out a loud keening wail of completion. Her feminine walls constricted, rolling like waves against him, milking him for all that he had.

“Fuck! BUFFY!!” He roared, thrusting into her several more times before finally empting himself.

After his body stopped twitching, Spike rolled them over so that she was perched above him, not wanting to slip out just yet but not wanting to crush her either.

She grinned and Spike couldn’t stop the chuckle that rolled through his chest. “What’s got you so happy, hmm?”

“Oh, not much,” she replied, barely concealing a giggle.

“Not much, huh?”

“Well, there might be this one thing.”

His eyebrow arched up. “And what, pray tell, would this be?”

Buffy leaned forward and kissed him so sweetly that his head began to swim. Her hand came up to cup his cheek. “Just that I love you, William.”

And with that, he was completely lost to her.
Chapter 27 by Jaesha
A/N: This one is for my wonderful sister-in-arms, Niamh. I am so not worthy.














Spike woke up to see Buffy staring down at him with a wicked little smile on her soft lips.

“What are you doin’, luv?” His voice was thick with sleep and a growing amount of lust. He was beginning to realize it didn’t take much for her to turn him on.

“Watching you sleep.”

He propped himself up on his elbow and smirked. “Not sleepin’ anymore. What’cha gonna do now?”

She giggled. “I dunno.”

“Hmm,” he rumbled, giving her a once over before setting his sights on her lips. “How ‘bout a good mornin’ kiss, then?”

Spike watched as her breath hitched slightly. God, what she did to him! That simple, involuntary act had him throbbing and hard as steel in a flash. To see her body react that way to him made his libido kick it into high gear.

Grabbing her, he pulled her under his body and settled between her naked thighs. She made a noise somewhere in the neighborhood of surprise and he couldn’t stop himself from making sure she was okay with this.

They had only made love the one time the night before. Between exhaustion and fearing he might hurt her, the opportunity to go again had gone unclaimed. Now that he had gotten a bit of sleep and she had gotten a bit of time to recover, his brain wasn’t thinking about anything other than touching her again.

Buffy smiled shyly at him and he held back the urge to chastise her. It was ridiculous to think that she had grown fully comfortable with her body or his or what they were doing in a matter of hours. He wanted to tell her that there was no reason to be bashful, that what they did together was special and right, but he settled for a brush of his lips against hers.

Actions spoke louder than words, right? Well, he’d just have to show her that there was nothing to be ashamed about.

His hips twisted against hers in an effort to relieve some of the pressure that was centered in his groin. He didn’t think anyone had ever gotten him this hot before, to the point of bursting almost.

“Spike,” she breathed against his burning skin as her hands slid up his sides.

A shiver ran through him, from head to toe, and he pulled back slightly to look at her. “Fuck, girl! You have no idea what you’re doin’ t’ me, do ya?”

Buffy frowned. “I’m so-”

Her apology was cut off by his finger against her mouth. “No more o’ that, sweetness.”

“But I-”

Spike thrust his hips hard, his cock slamming against her sensitive femininity. “You feel that? Hmm?”

She moaned loudly, making Spike pause for a second to regain control of himself. With a jerked nod, she said, “yes. I feel it.”

His hand swept down the side of her neck and moved down to cup the small swell of her breast. “When you feel that, luv,” he began before dipping his head down to take the ripe little bud of her nipple into his mouth. “Means nothin’ but good things. I don’t want t’ hear you apologizin’ for makin’ me feel good because I sure as hell won’t apologize for makin’ you feel good. Nothin’ t’ apologize for, yeah?”

His tongue trailed down the soft curve until he was licking a path down the valley between her breasts. She whimpered in protest and he reached up, plucking the abandoned nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“Unh!” Her hips popped off the bed and Spike knew he was on to something. He pinched her harder, rolling the hardened flesh between his fingers. The harder he pinched, the more she cried out in pleasure. It wouldn’t take much more than that to get her to come and instinctively, he began rubbing the head of his cock against her clit by way of a seductive hip shimmy.

Her fingers dug into the tight muscles of his waist as he continued his movements, hell bent on making her come. She arched against him, bringing her breasts so close to his mouth that he couldn’t help but to take a taste.

God, she was so hot and wet for him. His cock slid against the slippery folds of her pussy, begging for an entrance it knew would be denied by the man controlling it from above. Oh, he would have loved to slip right inside her, but that was just asking for trouble and they had far more than enough of that already.

Buffy began to buck and squirm under him, so close to completion that she was lost in it. He took the other nipple in his mouth as his finger continued to play with its twin and gently bit down.

“Spiiike!”

The primal scream that wrenched from her throat almost pushed him over the edge. He grit his teeth together and tried to hold off his orgasm as she rode out her own.

He didn’t give her much time to recover. The need to be inside her was overwhelming. Reaching over, he grabbed the strip of condoms on the night stand and ripped one off. He tore the little square open with his teeth and made fast work of sliding the latex over his penis. He positioned himself at her entrance and-

“What does it feel like?”

Spike’s head shot up so quick that he almost got whiplash. “What?”

Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she studied his condom-covered cock. “What does it feel like? Does it feel different when you have that on?”

His eyebrows rose. This had to be the strangest bloody time to ask a question like that. “Uh, yeah. It’s different.”

“How?”

He gave her a quizzical expression. Was she really wanting to have this discussion now? Right when he was about to-? From her smile, he’d have to guess the answer to that was a yes; she really wanted to talk about this now.

Strangely enough, he wasn’t bothered too much by that.

Sitting back on his heels, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I suppose it’s mostly different because it’s not as sensitive as it would be without one. I can’t really feel you so it takes longer t’ get off.”

“What does it feel like then?”

He arched an eyebrow before leering at her. “Warm. Tight. Good.”

“Oh,” she replied, that crease between her eyebrows growing more and more pronounced. “Well, how does it feel without it?”

Okay, was there something wrong with him getting turned on by this? Because with every innocently-put question, he grew harder and harder.

“Its hard t’ explain, luv. But I guess the best way t’ describe it is t’ show you.”

Her eyes turned into big green saucers at that. “S-Show me?”

“Yeah. Gimmie your hand,” he told her, holding out his hand for her to take.

She seemed a bit apprehensive about this latest demonstration, but Spike wasn’t quite sure why. He wasn’t going to hurt her or do anything she didn’t much approve of.

Despite her obvious reservations, she gave him her hand. Spike looked down at it for a second before bringing it to his mouth. He licked the tip of her index finger and slowly slid his mouth over it, wrapping his agile tongue around the fleshy digit.

A groan left her lips as he moved her finger in and out of his mouth, imitating what he would be doing to her if they weren’t having this conversation. Suddenly, she began to giggle and Spike popped her finger out. “Wot?”

She shook her head, a blush creeping over her already-flushed cheeks. “Nothing.”

“Oh, no, luv. You can’t start giggling at me while we are in the middle o’ somethin’ fairly intimate and expect me not t’ wanna know why.”

Buffy buried her face in the pillow beside her. “I though you were going to put my finger somewhere else,” her muffled voice said.

Okay, so he was a little dense in the morning and it took him a second to realize what she meant. Of course, once it finally sunk in, he wasn’t sure if he should be horrified or rolling on the floor laughing.

He settled for something in the middle. “Buffy,” he chuckled nervously. “I would never do anythin’ you weren’t one-hundred percent about. An’ yeah, that might have explained my point a little better, but I don’t think we’re at that place yet.”

“Do you like touching me like that?” Her eyes poked up above the pillow, but the rest of her face remained hidden.

“Baby, there isn’t a place on your body that I wouldn’t touch or lick t’ oblivion if given the opportunity.”

Her eyes went wide again. “Any place?”

“Any place,” he countered. “But that’s entirely up t’ you, pet.”

She frowned a little. “Anya said you could teach me.”

“Teach you?” Bloody hell, what was that woman telling her now?

“Yeah, you know, teach me about sex-type stuff.”

Inwardly, he groaned. This couldn’t be good. It was no secret that Mrs. Anya Harris had a voracious sexual appetite that tended to swing the way of kink. Lord only knew what kind of weird sexual things Anya had discussed with his girl and he was almost sure that he didn’t want to know.

Fuck, what had she said about him?

Shaking the worrisome thoughts from his head, he smiled down at her. “It’s not so much about teachin’, Buffy, as it is learnin’ what pleases you. If you want t’ try somethin’, all you have t’ do is ask.”

Her expression lightened a bit. “Really?”

“Of course, pet.”

The pillow fell back against the bedspread and she bit at her lower lip. She gazed up at him from beneath a dark fringe of lashes. “Can I touch you now?”





******





Spike just stared at her for a minute and Buffy started to wonder if he was going to change his mind. After all, she was the one who had botched the touching-of-Spike last night maybe he didn’t want to bother with it.

His hand drifted down to where his erection jutted proudly from his body and he pulled the beige latex condom off of his thick length. He leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed something off the floor…his shirt…and wiped the remaining synthetic lubrication from his cock.

It seemed like such a dirty thing to be watching, but Buffy’s eyes were fixed on his hand moving over his hard manhood. She’d had a definite problem looking at it the night before, though you wouldn’t be able to prove it by her actions now.

Once he was finished cleaning himself off, he tossed the shirt back on the floor and gave her a come-hither wiggle of his finger. “C’mere,” he said thickly.

Buffy slowly pushed herself up and crawled across the bed to him. She briefly thought about how he had laid down for this the night before and wondered why he wasn’t doing that now, but she supposed it didn’t really matter. Sitting back on her heels, she mirrored his position and waited for him to tell her what to do.

He grabbed her hand, just as he had last night, but instead of placing it somewhere safe, he curled her tiny fist around his still-growing erection. She couldn’t contain the gasp that erupted from her throat.

“How should I…”

Spike closed his eyes and took a deep breath before guiding her hand carefully up and back down his length. “Jus’ like that, kitten.”

Soon his hand left hers and he leaned back, his head falling behind his shoulders as he moaned quietly. His cock bounced and twitched in her hand, mesmerizing her. It was hot and smooth, satiny skin wrapped over a hard and unyielding column of flesh. She pumped her hand over it, her pace quickening with every sound of encouragement.

Her strokes continued to get bolder. Harder and faster, squeezing her hand tightly around him.

“Oh God, Buffy! Don’t…oh…ever stop…fuck, baby,” he growled, thrusting upward into her hand.

A familiar tingling sensation began to build between her legs and she squeezed her thighs together to prolong the feeling. Wow! She had no idea that this was going to turn her on. Did that mean when he touched her that he was turned on too?

As she pondered this new question, her gaze caught sight of something. A bead of pearly liquid had formed at the tip of his cock and threatened to roll down the bulbous head. Curious, she moved her thumb up to swipe at the droplet. It was warm and slick and just a bit sticky.

Suddenly, her hand was jerked up and Buffy looked at Spike just in time to see him suck her thumb into his mouth. Their gazes met and he arched an eyebrow at her.

Buffy bit at her lower lip as she glanced back down to his cock. Another bead had formed and she debated for a second about whether or not to go through with it. Her hand reached out and her index finger swirled around in the moisture that pooled in the slight indentation. She studied it closely before tentatively poking her tongue out and touching it to her finger.

Something about the act of her tasting him drove him over the edge and he shouted out in release as copious amounts of the same pearly fluid shot from him. It plopped on her thigh and her stomach, tempting her to taste it as well. She watched as he grabbed his cock and pumped his hand over it until nothing more would come out.

“You’re gonna be the bloody death of me.”





******






The sound of Buffy’s melodious laughter made Spike smile.

“This is you?”

Spike leaned in and glanced at the picture she was holding, groaning when he realized just what it was. “Oh buggerin’ hell! I thought I burned that one.”

There was a time when his softer alter ego, William, was fairly heavy in theater. Those bloody costumes were right embarrassing sometimes.

“You’re so cute! Look at your tights!” Buffy exclaimed with a giggle.

He was beginning to regret this walk down memory lane. It had started innocently enough. Spike had wanted to show her a picture of his mother since they had gotten on the subject of Joyce. He hadn’t meant to turn it into show and tell, but she had looked at him with such longing that he had ended up picking up the box from the floor and dumping all of the pictures out on the bed.

“Do you have any pictures, luv?”

She glanced at him with sadness in her eyes. “Just one. Me, Mom, and Giles. It’s in my address book. The rest…my dad said that they were in the way and he put them in a storage locker somewhere.”

Bloody bastard! Of course, by now Spike wasn’t at all surprised to hear things like that from her. He didn’t think he’d heard a single good thing about the man and even if he had, it wouldn’t have made up for all of the damage he had done.

He sifted through the photos, grabbing some here and there before turning to her. “Here. I don’t have much, but these are from when they came t’ visit me in London,” he told her as he handed her the pictures.

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“No thanks required, pet,” he replied as he ran his fingers through her long blond hair.

“Why did you leave London, Spike?”

He hummed lowly, leaning back against the wall of pillows stacked up behind him. “Too many memories, I suppose. I was finished with school an’ I really didn’t have any reason t’ stay anymore.”

“I’m glad you did. I don’t think I could have made it all the way to England,” Buffy said with a grin.

They sat in comfortable silence for over twenty minutes before Buffy spoke again.

“Who’s this?” She asked, picking up a photo that had been hiding under another dreadful costume picture.

Spike sighed. “That’d be my father.”

“Oh. You look like him.”

Unfortunately.

“Yeah.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Jus’ before I moved t’ the States.”

And if he hadn’t already had his mind on moving across an ocean, he would have after that reunion. Alistair Pratt hadn’t changed much in the ten-plus years since Spike had seen him last. He was just as cruel and unfeeling as always.

He had gone to tell him that he was leaving for America, feeling some sort of obligation since they were related by blood. To this day, Spike still hadn’t understood why he felt such a need to go see the man that made his life a living hell.




******




London, 1992



William sat, nervously drumming his fingers against his twitching leg as he waited for his father to see him.

“Mr. Pratt will see you now.” A voice said and William looked up to see a lean man with beady eyes leering at him.

With a nod and a breath for courage, William followed the man down a long corridor.

“You look just like your father, William. You Pratt men are so handsome,” the man told him, slowing down to walk beside William.

Somehow William got the feeling that wasn’t just a compliment especially with the bloke looking him up and down like he was lamb up for the slaughter. “Uh, thanks.”

They stopped in front of a set of heavy wooden doors and the man opened one side up. He placed his hand on the small of William’s back and pushed him inside, letting his fingers dip down ever so slightly.

“Hey!” William spun around and pushed the man away.

“Oh, Ethan. Molesting the guests again, I see.”

There sat Alistair Pratt, behind a large stone desk. He wasn’t smiling, in fact, he had a rather droll expression on his face and William felt his heart start to pound in his chest.

“You know me too well, Alistair. Besides how could I resist?” Ethan batted his eyelashes in mock-innocence.

“Sod off, you bloody poof,” Alistair replied flatly.

With one final lecherous smile at William, Ethan left the room, shutting the doors behind him.

“So, boy, what brings you here?”

William walked towards the desk and made a move to sit down in one of the chairs that were situated before it.

“Don’t. You won’t be staying long.” His voice was dripping with malice as he glared daggers at William.

William straightened back up, albeit a bit more stiffly than before. “I, uh, I wanted to come an’ tell you that I’ll be leaving next month for America.”

“And?”

A panicked expression flooded William’s face. “And…that’s it.”

Alistair didn’t appear convinced. “You’re not gettin’ a bloody pound from me, boy.”

“I-I didn’t come here for money.”

With a cruel crack of laughter, Alistair stood up and walked around the desk. He clasped a hand on William’s shoulder and pulled him into an unyielding punch in the gut. William doubled over with a cry of pain.

“Now listen here, boy. You’ll not be gettin’ anythin’ from me. I don’t want to ever see you here again, do you understand?”

William looked up at him, pain and anger making tears pool in his deep blue eyes. “I didn’t come here for money.”

“Oh? Why did you come then? Did you think I would fall to my knees and beg you to forgive me for all of the rotten things I did to you and your mum? Did you think we could become a family again, that I’d take you to rugby matches and tuck you in at night?

Let’s get somethin’ straight right here and now. Your mother was a whore if there ever was one and the only reason I didn’t finish ‘er off when I had the chance was because everyone knew she was carrying you. Trust me, boy, had she just kept ‘er big mouth shut, you wouldn’t be here.

“It’s a true pity. I could have saved her from the miserable life she led. Tell me again, how many years did it take for the cancer to eat away at her body?”

William saw red. He grabbed the lapels of his father’s suit and slammed him against the stone desk. “You goddamned bastard! Don’t you ever talk about Mum like that!”

Alistair laughed. “There might be hope for you yet, boy. Looks like you’ve got a bit of the ol’ man in you after all.”

Shoving him hard, William backed away. “I’m nothing like you! Nothing! You’re disgusting!”




******





Las Vegas, 1997



“Are you okay, Spike?”

Spike shook the troubling memories from his mind and forced himself to smile. “Sure, luv. Jus’ thinkin’ is all.”

“Thoughts that make you go all frowny are not allowed. Here,” she said, leaning up and sucking his lower lip between hers, teasing it with her tongue. “Think about that. That’s got happy Spike written all over it.”

Spike’s smile became a little less forced and a lot more lustful as he grabbed her and rolled them over. “Oh, I think you got jus’ the cure for my gloom and doom, baby.”

Buffy giggled as he tickled her sides. “I really love you, you know.”

I love you too.








A/N: Yay! An update! The girl’s on a roll! Hope you enjoyed. Oh, and reviews make me happy…so cure my gloom and doom, will ya! ~ Luv, Jae
Chapter 28 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
I tried to finish up Dreaming, but this one would not be ignored any longer. Enjoy! Tell me what you think...
Spike grinned behind his coffee mug as he watched Buffy bop and twirl about the kitchen to a song that was so beyond suggestive that he found himself slightly blushing. Of course, she was completely oblivious to the overly sexual lyrics and he was once again amazed at how innocent she was considering all that she had been through.

Things had certainly changed between them in the past week. Everything Spike had worried might happen hadn't and he was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. The tension was gone. The sadness and anger had disappeared along with it and for the first time since his mother had died, he felt a calmness so serene that it threatened to wash away everything that had kept him on edge before.

And that scared him more than he cared to admit.

"You're makin' a bloody mess, luv," he said with a chuckle.

The whole kitchen was doused in flour and smelled like vanilla and so was Buffy. She had gotten it in her head that she needed to bake cookies at eight o'clock this morning and could not be dissuaded no matter how hard Spike had tried to distract her. If she were anyone else, he'd have been worried that he was losing his touch, but he'd gotten to know his little kitten well and could easily chalk it up to utter stubbornness.

"Makes the cookies taste better," she replied, her feet sliding a bit in the white power that had fallen onto the floor.

"I'm not helpin' you clean it up."

Her lower lip poked out into a delicious pout and his cock twitched in response. The girl was going to make him spontaneously combust if she kept that up.

"But Spike..." She whined.

"I might be persuaded t' help if I get somethin' in return," he told her with a leer.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Is that all you think about?"

"When I'm around you, baby? Absolutely."

She rolled the last dough ball and set it on the cookie sheet before moving the pan to the oven. Her hands slapped together to get rid of the extra stickiness and she gave him a triumphant smile. "Last batch," she declared. "Do you think Anya and Xander might want some?"

"I think if it's edible, Xander would probably be more than happy t' take it off your hands." Spike took a drink from his mug and winced as the cool coffee hit his tongue.

Buffy plopped into a chair adjacent from him and brought her knees up to her chest. "Do you think they'll know?"

"Well, you're little cookie session was pretty spur o' the moment. Probably not."

Buffy glanced up at him with a funny expression on her face. If he had to take a guess, he'd say it was a what-language-are-you-speaking look. "Huh?"

"Uh, I'm guessin' we're not on the same page here. What did you mean?"

She sighed and played with a spoon on the table. "Do you think Anya and Xander will know that we...you know...?"

Setting his mug down, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Would it bother you if they did?"

"No."

"Then why does it matter if they know or not?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I don't want people to look at me funny."

"That's not gonna happen, luv."

"When I was in school, they used to talk bad about the girls who were..." She leaned in close as if to whisper a secret. "You know, slutty."

"Luv," he began as he grasped her hand in his, stroking the smooth, creamy skin with his thumb. "You're not some sort o' trollop, so I don't think you have anythin' t' worry about. Besides, you won't find anyone snickerin' at you even if they did know what you an' I have done behind closed doors. An' if they did, they'd have t' deal with me."

With a shy smile, she said, "Really?"

Oh, if she only knew. Of course, on second thought, maybe it was best that she didn't know just what lengths he would go to protect her. She didn't respond well to his anger even if he had the best of intentions.

"Really."

She squealed before leaping out of her chair and into his lap. As he struggled to keep her from falling, she planted wet, sloppy kisses all over his face, her hands grabbing onto the collar of his shirt and holding him to her. She wiggled and squirmed and made it impossible for him not to react, but she didn't seem to mind much. The frantic movements turned into a slow grind against his growing hardness and Spike moaned in response.

"Do you have any bloody idea what you do t' me, kitten?" He grabbed the back of her head, his fingers slipping through her shimmering gold locks, and devoured her lips in a kiss. She tasted sweet, like sugar and spice, as her tongue dueled with his. Their lips slid and moved against each other, setting him ablaze and pushing him towards solidifying his need.

His arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her up onto the table in front of him. A loud clatter distracted him momentarily until he realized that it had just been his half-empty coffee mug falling to the floor.

"Spike," she said breathlessly, eyes wide and full of desire.

There wasn't a sweeter sound in the universe than her moaning his name that way. It was an aria of passion; a symphony that only he knew by heart. His heart soared at the very idea of it, that she sang for him and no one else.

And there would be no one else. Not ever. Buffy was his.

The growl that rumbled in his throat was nothing less than possessive and by the way she gasped, Spike could tell she knew exactly what it meant too. He waited for her to push him away, but she never did. Instead, she scooted back slightly on the tabletop and brought her feet up to rest on the edge; an invitation in her gaze.

He wasted no time in accepting and he pushed forward until the hard line of the table dug into his thighs, bringing his body between her legs but not close enough to feel her heat. Reaching up, he peeled back the front of her tank top, her pert breasts spilling out into his hands. He pulled her up by one arm and immediately latched onto one of her hard, pink nipples.

"Oh!" She exclaimed as he bit down lightly, her hips jerking against the table and bumping into his swollen, denim-covered cock.

The sudden burst of pleasure that the friction caused sent him past the point of no return and he released her breast, pushing her back against the table. He roughly grasped the waistband of her tiny shorts and yanked up until the button popped off. Ripping the zipper open, he pulled off the garment and threw it on the floor, leaving her in pale yellow panties with a white lace trim.

"Fuck, baby! Look at you. Hot. Wet. Is it for me?" He ran his fingers over the soaked cotton crotch before grinding the heel of his hand against the needy button of her clit. "Mmm, yeah. Can feel you. You want it, huh, luv? You want me, dontcha?"

Her back arched sharply. "Please..."

"Please, what, baby?" He asked in a rasp as he dipped his finger into her through the barrier of her panties.

She was breathing in short pants now, her chest rising and falling erratically. "I want... I want... Please, Spike!"

He leaned in, inhaling her scent, her arousal and blew hot air against her, making her cry out. "Want what, Buffy? Gotta tell me. I wanna hear you tell me."

"Ugnh, please! I want... I want you to...taste me!"

Spike smirked. Oh, he was more than happy to oblige. He licked her cloth-covered mound from top to bottom with a moan of satisfaction then rubbed the saturated fabric against her, loving the twitch of her body as she mewled.

There was something incredibly naughty about playing with her like this, making her want, making her squirm underneath his touch. He felt like such a bad man as he watched her writhe on the table in her pretty panties, completely wanton and unashamed. The sounds that she made drove him on, letting him know just how much she enjoyed what he was doing to her.

Reaching back, he pulled the chair to him and sat down, his eyes level with her heated center. This was definitely a vantage point he could get used to.

He moved in, poking his tongue out and running it along the inside of her golden thigh. "I'm gonna eat you up, kitten. Is that what you want? You wanna feel my tongue on you? In you? Huh, baby?" His thumb rubbed her clit in hard circles as he left open-mouthed kisses along the edge of her underwear. "Wanna hear you scream my name when I lick your sweet quim. Will you?"

"Yes! Yes, God, please!" She nodded her head wildly, her hands curling into tiny fists.

With a rumble, he grasped her hips with his large hands and slid her down the slick surface of the table so that her body was flush with the edge and positioned her legs over his shoulders. He buried his face between her thighs and shook his head, his nose bumping against hardened nub of her arousal.

"Spike! Oh my God! What are you doing?"

He chuckled. "Jus' gettin' started, luv. Jus' gettin' started."

After another long lick right up the center of her, he sucked the cotton into his mouth and tugged at it with his teeth, stretching the soaked fabric until it had some give to it. Pushing the strip aside, he took a minute to appreciate the bloom of soft, pink folds that glistened from her fluids and his arduous kisses. She was beautiful there, all delicate and velvety, the color of an innocent blush. And her smell...

He brushed a kiss against her, his tongue poking out only slightly to take a sample. The flavor was exquisite, like ripe raspberries with their tart, honeyed juices, like ambrosia. He could die with her taste on his tongue.

It was too much for him and he gave into his impulses, dipping his tongue into her hot entrance while maneuvering his fingers upward to tease her clit. Buffy shouted in pleasure, her hips moving against his mouth and tongue and fingers in an effort to increase the wonderful sensations that he was creating.

"That's it, baby," he urged, taking a needed breath before diving back into her sopping pussy.

"Oh, Spike..."

Her clit was throbbing against his fingers and he abandoned her tight channel to suck the greedy bundle of nerves into his mouth. His hand slid down to pick up the slack, his thumb slipping effortlessly into her before retreating, beginning a timeless rhythm.

"Spike." Her voice was becoming more insistent and Spike grinned against her. Oh, yeah, the girl wanted it. Wanted it bad.

He felt a hand on his head and he immediately picked up the pace, lashing his tongue over her and slamming his finger into her.

"Ugh, oh God! Spike!"

That's it! Come for me!

"Spike! Spike! I think...God...Spike...I think the...oh God...the cookies are burning!"

His head shot up. "Wha?"

Buffy scrambled off the table and ran towards the oven, leaving Spike disoriented and ready to burst. When he finally realized what was going on, it was too late.

"Buffy, don't touch the-"

She howled in pain as the baking sheet clattered back on the oven rack. Spike jumped up and pulled her away from the searing hot metal and moved her over to the sink. He jerked the cold water on and placed her hand under it.

"Ow," she said miserably. Flexing her fingers under the water, she glanced up at him. "I'm sorry, Spike."

He turned his blue eyes to her sad face. "For what, luv?"

Her shrug suggested indifference, but what it really said was that she was embarrassed. "Ruining it."

He didn't have to ask her what 'it' meant. Truthfully, the moment he realized she had been hurt all thoughts of what they had been doing flew right out the window. "You didn't ruin anythin'. Scared the shit outta me, yeah, but ruin? Not a chance."

It was then that he realized her top was still down and he flushed furiously. Sex must have been the last thing on his mind or he would have seen it moments earlier. Reaching down, he gently pulled the stretchy baby blue fabric up and adjusted the straps on her shoulders.

She giggled nervously. "Lucky I didn't burn those, huh?"

With a short smile, he could only nod in response. God, she had scared him! At this point, he was still trying to get his heart to slow down and he really didn't have it in him to joke about the incident, not with the fear trickling through his veins, not while he was trying desperately to keep his hands from shaking.

"Come on, luv. Why don't you go sit down an' I'll go get you some ice." He led her over to the kitchen table and sat her down in one of the chairs.

He walked to the freezer and pulled out an ice tray, tossing it on to counter as he went in search of the kitchen towels. The kitchen was like a foreign country to him. Sure, he knew where some things were. The coffee, the dishes and silverware, and just about any food item, but appliances? Sponges and towels? Not a bloody clue.

So, he started rummaging through drawers and cupboards and that’s when he found...

"Uh, Buffy?"

"Hmmm?" came her absent-minded reply.

"What the bleedin' hell is this?"





******






Buffy slowly turned her head, wincing when she realized what Spike was holding in his hand.

"Um...Sean?"

Spike glanced at the dark purple jelly dildo and then back at her. "Sean?"

Oh, he didn't look happy. Not happy at all. His face was drawn into a severe frown and his eyebrows were all scrunched together. Plus he was doing that squinty thing with his eyes. Oh, not good.

"Um, yeah? You know, like Sean Connery...?"

"Buffy, why-"

His voice was cut off by the doorbell and he sighed heavily. "Sod it all! Go get some clothes on, pet."

He set the bobbing appendage on the counter and started for the door, stopping short when he realized she was still sitting there.

"Come on, Buffy. Go get some clothes on. Don't want anyone seein' your girly bits but me, yeah?"

"You're not mad at me, are you?" She couldn't help the sniffle as her tears welled up.

Tilting his head, he hauled her up against his chest. "'m not mad. Little confused, but not mad. Now, go on." He kissed her forehead and slapped her ass playfully as he pushed her towards the bedroom.

She heard the doorbell chime again just before she closed the bedroom door behind her and she almost poked her head back out to see who it was, but she refrained. What if it was Angel or Xander? She couldn't possibly go walking around in her underwear in front of them! Nope, getting some pants on was a much better idea.

Originally, she was going to throw on a pair of jeans, but then she realized they would be impossible to button up with her burned fingers. So, she settled for navy blue sweat pants instead.

God, did she feel stupid! Who grabs a hot pan with their bare hand? Because she was so obviously fire-proof and all with those super-humany powers. She rolled her eyes and glared down at her red, blistering fingers.

And to top it all off, she had totally ruined the sexy-fest.

"No wonder Spike can't take you seriously, Buffy," she muttered to herself as she made her way out to the living room.

"Hey B! What's up?"

Buffy looked up to see Faith standing behind the couch with her hand on Spike's shoulder. She felt jealousy surge within her and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from saying anything stupid.

She knew there was nothing going on between Faith and Spike. He had said there wasn't and she trusted him. Even still, she couldn't help but feel a little anxious when ever Faith was around. The woman had seen Spike naked and had done things with him that Buffy couldn't even begin to fathom, not to mention the fact that Faith was gorgeous and strong and well, a woman.

"Not much," she managed.

Faith arched a dark eyebrow at her, but didn't call Buffy on the obvious hesitance in her voice. Instead she looked back at Spike. "Got anything to drink?"

"Fridge is all yours," Spike replied, gesturing towards the kitchen.

"Thanks."

They both followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table as she rifled through the refrigerator. She quickly popped back up with a beer in her hand, which she opened by way of the edge of the counter.

"So," Spike started, glancing nervously at the broken coffee mug on the floor. "Why are you here, Faith?"

Her amber brown eyes narrowed as she looked around the kitchen. "Wanted to come talk to you about Buffy's father."

"Have you heard something?" Buffy asked in a panicked voice.

"Chill, B. I haven't heard anything. Just wanted to ask you some more questions," Faith said, her gaze continuing sweep the room.

"Oh."

"But first...what the hell kinda freaky shit are you two doin' in here?"

Oh, God, she knows! What is she going to do? Is she going to arrest Spike?

"Freaky?" Spike folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair as if everything was a-okay.

"Yeah, blondie. Freaky. There's a dildo on the counter, a pair of ripped shorts in the corner, a broken coffee mug on the floor and it smells like sex and...burned molasses in here. You tryin' to tell me that's not some freaky-deaky? This is me, here. I invented freaky," Faith declared then took a long swig off her bottle.

Spike rolled his eyes. "It's not what you think."

"Riiight," Faith drawled out with a smirk.

"Jus' get on with it. You got some questions for Buffy, ask 'em. If not, there's the soddin' door," Spike replied angrily.

"Calm down. Geez! I never remembered you bein' this defensive before." Faith started towards the table, then stopped when she got a good look at Buffy's hand. "Jesus, girl! What the heck did you do to your hand?"

"She burned them on the oven," Spike said.

Faith's eyebrows went up. "I didn't know she needed you to talk for her."

Spike shot up and pointed a finger at her. "Hey, you don't-"

"Can it, Spike! You got a first aid kit?"

He stood there for a minute, staring at her with his mouth gaping open. "No," he said softly, blinking as if he was still trying to grasp what she had just said.

"Figures." Faith grinned down at Buffy before digging into her pocket to fish out her keys. "I got one in my car. Be a doll and go grab it, huh?" She tossed the keys to Spike and jerked her head towards the door. Spike hesitated slightly, but reluctantly stormed off anyway.

Faith plopped down in the chair that Spike had been sitting in and set her beer on the table. She motioned for Buffy's hand and Buffy complied even though what she really wanted to do was run after Spike.

"So, B, how's it going?" Faith asked as she studied the burned flesh.

"Okay."

Faith nodded. "And you and Spike?"

"Fine."

"He's not doing anything you don't want him to, is he?"

Buffy wrenched her hand away. "What?"

Sighing loudly, Faith rested her chin on her hand. "Look, Buffy, I'm turning a blind eye to all this. I should be taking you into state protective custody and throwing Spike in jail, but I'm not. I'm not because Spike and I go way back which means I trust him and if your dad is the asshole you say he is, you're better off here. But you gotta level with me here."

"Why do you think Spike would do something I don't want him to? You don't think he's hurting me, do you? 'Cause he is so not!" Buffy felt her anger rising. How dare she accuse Spike of hurting her!

Faith threw her hands up in defense. "Whoa, chica. Calm down. I just want to make sure you are okay. You hafta understand how this all looks and I can't, in good conscience, leave without asking the hard questions. Comprende?"

Buffy really didn't understand how 'it all looked' or what conclusions Faith was coming up with the 'evidence' she had seen. But she did understand Faith's point.

Nodding, Buffy stretched her hand back to the other woman. "Nothing bad is happening. Spike is good to me. He takes care of me."

Faith gave her a sincere smile before returning to her inspection of Buffy's wound. "Good. That's good. 'Cause otherwise, I'd have to kick his ass."





******





Spike watched the both of them and he had to wonder what had happened while he'd been outside. Buffy was smiling and Faith's bad attitude had all but disappeared. He just hoped they weren't conspiring against him or something.

"What about Buffy's father?" Spike finally cut in after fifteen minutes of inane chatter.

Faith immediately sobered up, the smile falling from her face. "I haven't heard anything about him."

"Why are you here then?" Spike's patience was wearing thin.

"Because I haven't heard anything about him."

"I'm afraid you've lost me there. If there isn't any news, then what could you possibly have t' tell us?"

"No one has come to see Willie D. There haven't been any alerts. I've checked with the LA County Sheriffs Department, the FBI, and everyone else I can think of, but no one has reported you missing, Buffy. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe your dad isn't even looking for you?" Faith asked with a sigh.

Buffy looked at him, but Spike didn't have any answers for her. Faith had a point. If Hank Summers was so gung ho about locating his daughter, why hadn't he reported her missing? And if Willie D was working for him, why hadn't there been any contact made while he was stuck in county lock up?

Maybe Buffy's father wasn't looking for her at all. All signs pointed to that being a fact.

If that was true though, then why did Spike have this nagging worry in the back of his mind?
Chapter 29 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
Well, an update for my faithful readers. Read, enjoy, let me know what you think. Happy Earth Day, my pretties! ~ Luv, Jae
"Have you ever thought about going back to England?"

Spike glanced down at Buffy, who was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet painting her toenails a cotton candy-shade of pink, and gave her a curious tilt of his head. "Where'd that question come from?"

She shrugged, promptly smearing the last brush stroke across her toe instead of its intended location. "Darn it! I suck at this," she said with a pout.

He couldn't help but grin. She was incredibly cute when she got all frustrated like this.

Tightening his towel securely around his waist, he moved over to the edge of the bathtub and sat down, grabbing her foot and setting the delicate appendage on his lap. He motioned for the little bottle of lacquer, placing it on the ledge next to him after she'd handed it over.

"I don't know why you decided t' do this now anyway. We have t' leave in an hour," he told her as he moved the brush over the smooth nail of her big toe.

She huffed a little, her lower lip poking out into a pout. "The shoes I picked out are open-toed and my feet looked all icky."

Arching a dark eyebrow, he glanced at her then back down at the tiny foot perched on his thigh. "Nothin' about you is icky, luv. Your feet are no exception."

"Maybe you're just not looking hard enough."

Oh, she really had no idea what she was getting herself into with this.

"Trust me, I've looked. There's not an inch on your body that I haven't seen, kitten. A few places I might want t' explore a lil' more, yeah, but I've seen it all. Make no mistake about that," he told her with a lustful leer.

Truth of it was, Spike had been pretty obsessed with the female form even before Buffy and now that it was her form that he was privileged to see every morning, noon and night, he was going mad with fascination. From the silky strands of her hair right down to the tiny toenails he was currently painting, it was perfection in his mind. Couldn't get much closer to heaven on earth than touching her, tasting her, loving her.

His heart skipped a beat at that last thought. He was certainly no expert on love, but he was pretty sure that what he was feeling was completely bug-shagging, crazy in love. There was no other explanation for it.

For over a month now, he had been trying to convince himself that it wasn't love. After all, love was a dirty word to him. The definition of it had become twisted and tangled in the face of his father's abuse and his mother's acceptance. To admit that he was in love with Buffy opened too many doors to the uglier side of the emotion.

It all boiled down to fear. Not so much fear for himself, but fear for Buffy. What if he was more like his father than he chose to believe? What if he hurt her? He would rather take a long walk off a short pier than to do anything to harm her, but if he was anything like his father, none of his best intentions would matter.

He must have paused too long in his thoughts because Buffy wiggled her toes at him and said, "What are you thinking about?"

"Somethin' I'd rather not be thinkin' about," he replied with a heavy sigh before returning to the task in front of him.

"Tell me."

His blue eyes shifted up and saw her quietly staring back. She always tried hard not to push for more information than he was willing to offer up, but he could tell she was dying to know. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her; he just didn't want to dredge up old ghosts.

"Jus' thinkin' 'bout my father."

"Is it 'cause I asked you about England?" she asked, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth.

He blinked dumbly for a second as he tried to recall that particular question. "No, it was..." His voice trailed off when he realized where his statement was going. Now wasn't the time to declare his undying love for her, not in the sodding bathroom.

"It was what?"

Shaking his head, he dipped the brush back into the bottle to coat it with more nail polish. "Doesn't matter why."

Her face fell in disappointment, but she didn't press for more. A part of him appreciated that she didn't nag him about his past and the other part of him felt sick when he thought about why that was. For too long, she had been conditioned to be seen and not heard, to know her place in a life that she had no business being involved in to begin with.

Anger flared within his chest when she began talking about something completely inane, like the weather or an episode of Friends, instead of pressing him for an answer she more than deserved. Her father wasn't even in the same state as her and he was still inflicting his brand of mind control. Fucking Hank Summers.

"I've thought about it," he said interrupting her speech on the latest Ross and Rachel drama.

"Huh?"

He smiled and bit back a chuckle. "England. I've thought about goin' back."

Her eyes widened as hope flared in their foresty depths. "And?"

"Don't know. Lot's o' reasons never t' step back in that soddin' country, but I miss it. Its beautiful there, luv. You'd love it." He watched her smile broaden and suddenly, he wanted to jump on a plane with her right this second and jump across the pond. "Maybe someday, yeah?"

"Really? We could go?"

"I'll take you anywhere you wanna go, Buffy. Jus' name it." His thumb moved from her heel to the elegant arch of her foot, rubbing at the sensitive ribbons of muscle just beneath the translucent skin. A visible shiver ran through body making her foot twitch in his hands.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice somewhere between a moan and a teasing tone.

He feigned innocence all the while continuing to massage her foot. "Nothin'. Nothin' at all."

"You," she began shakily. "Are so lying."

There was still so much to teach her. So much she didn't know about being intimate with another person. And she wanted to learn, that much was obvious, even despite her shyness and crazy notions about what was acceptable and what wasn't. If it were up to him, he would spend the remaining years of his life showing her just what it meant to make love to someone and how it could make her feel.

"You started it, luv. All that talk of ickiness an' the like. Gotta show you jus' how wrong you are," he rumbled as his fingers ran over a few choice pressure points.

She moaned and tossed her head back slightly. "What about the party?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, he groaned inwardly. Oh, yes, the sodding party, how could he forget?

Up until twenty minutes ago, he'd been eager to go to Angel's birthday bash at The Blue Temple. He and Buffy deserved a little fun after the past couple of months and since she'd be around familiar people, Spike figured it was as good a time as any to finally show her off. It was also the perfect opportunity to start acclimating her to life without her father's shackles, a life outside the confines of the apartment.

And then he had touched her, which had made him start to seriously reconsider going anywhere besides back to bed.

"You still wanna go?" he asked her, slipping his index finger between her toes.

She nodded her head at the same time she said no and Spike laughed. That's exactly how he was feeling. He wanted to go and he wanted to stay, equally. Although, to be honest, either way he was getting a winning hand as long as he was with her.

"All right. I'll behave an' get the rest of lil' piggies all glittered up so we can go t' Angel's party," he told her as his fingers moved away from the more sensual parts of her foot.

"Mmm," she mumbled. "Maybe we can try it again when we get home."

"You're on, luv."




******





Buffy smoothed the crimson silk of her dress over her hips as they stopped at the entrance of The Blue Temple. Nervousness bubbled up in her stomach even though she couldn't quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was the long line of people stretched out behind her, scowling at the fact that she and Spike had jumped ahead of them. Maybe it was the prospect of meeting his friends or that they would be meeting her as Spike's girlfriend and not some distant relative. Could be because she was sixteen and about to go into a club in which people under twenty-one weren't allowed.

"You ready, pet?" Spike asked as the bouncer unhooked the VIP rope, allowing them to pass through.

Ready or not, there was really no turning back at this point, was there? She gave him a smile and nodded even as her stomach flip-flopped when he put his hand at the small of her back and gently pushed her in front of him.

They moved quickly through a dark corridor and popped out on the other side of a sparkly blue curtain of beads. The main dance floor was packed with people moving to the techno beat of a song about smacking someone's bitch up as the lights above flashed along with the music. Strings of blue neon pulsed along the walls like a rolling wave, every now and then hitting a large color wash light that sprayed the dance floor in blue and green tiles.

She didn't remember much about her first trip through the club. Fatigue and confusion had made everything a blur. Now that she truly saw it, she was amazed, awed. This was where Spike worked? It looked like an underwater carnival ride!

"I think they've already started. Wanna go up?"

Buffy's gaze snapped away from the dance floor and followed the length of his arm as it pointed to a mid-level balcony covered in sheer blue and white fabric. "Um...okay," she replied softly, trying to rein in the edgy zap running across her skin like lightning in the desert.

Instead of pushing her forward, he grabbed her hand in his and held on tight. They walked towards the spiral stairway and quickly made the ascent to the next level. Just as she was about to slip through the curtain, he tugged on her hand and pulled her back.

"If you feel like you wanna leave, luv, jus' let me know." His hand came up and brushed a loose tendril away from her cheek. "I want you t' have fun tonight, that's all. If you're not havin' fun, we'll leave."

Her anxiousness must have been showing a lot more than she'd thought and she silently chastised herself for not having more control. It wasn't fair to him that he always had to put his life on hold just because she was uneasy or scared. She was so tired of being a burden to him.

"I'll be okay, Spike," she replied, giving the biggest smile she could muster.

His eyes narrowed on her and she felt like he could see right through her. "I mean it, Buffy. None of that 'I'll stick it out' crap."

She nodded. "I will."




******





It had taken her almost an hour to finally relax and Spike realized just how nervous she had been. Of course, she hadn't once asked to leave, but that didn't surprise him much. She was always putting on the brave face, trying hard not to appear weak or frightened. The girl had so much more strength than she thought.

He wished he could have that kind of strength. Oh, sure, he was excellent at running his mouth off and acting like the big bad wolf, but really that was just stupidity most of the time. When his temper got the best of him, that's when his stupidity really showed. Jumping into the fire without giving much thought to how it was going to burn him and only caring about his gut reaction. That wasn't strength.

If he had that, he'd be able to tell her how he really felt.

Instead, he kept his mouth shut, afraid of what she might think even though he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wanted him to love her. It was fear. In the end, there was only fear. He didn't want to hurt her, but he worried that he might. Love made people do crazy things after all.

Taking a long drink from his glass of bourbon, he noticed Xander staring at him from across the room. He set the glass on the table and quirked an eyebrow at Xander. What was his bloody problem?

Xander gave a short nod towards the door, motioning with his eyes that he wanted Spike to follow him, before excusing himself from the group of people he was standing with. Reluctantly, Spike trudged off after him, snaking his way through the throng of people on the dance floor to meet Xander at the bar.

"Can I get another Heineken?" Xander called out to the bartender, who Spike realized belatedly was Gunn.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Do you need me t' go t' the loo with you too?"

"Shut up, Spike," Xander retorted. "I wanted to ask you about something, but I didn't want to do it up there."

"What's that then?"

A bottle of beer appeared in front of Xander and money exchanged hands. Gunn gave a quick two-fingered wave before rushing off to help another customer. The bar was slammed tonight and without Spike and Angel working, they were very short-handed. For a moment, Spike had even contemplated jumping back there and helping out, but he had gotten the night off for a reason and it wasn't to pour. Besides, the bartenders on duty would be well compensated in tips for all of their hard work.

"So..." Xander took a long swig of his beer and gave Spike a smile. "You and Buffy."

"That's not a question," Spike replied dryly.

Xander didn't look amused. "You know what I meant."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't see how it's any o' your business."

He'd never been the kind of bloke to kiss and tell. His reputation had been built purely on speculation and women who couldn't keep their bloody mouths shut. It was nobody's business what he did behind closed doors and he intended on keeping it that way.

"I'm not fishing for details, Spike. I just want to- Fuck, I don't know. Make sure you knew what you were doing?" Xander folded his arms over his broad chest and stared at the peroxide blonde Brit.

Spike's eyebrows came together, partly in confusion and partly in anger. "Wasn't too long ago you were surprised nothin' had happened an' now you suddenly start worryin' that somethin' has?"

"Wasn't too long ago that you were still trying to protect Buffy from your big bad self either!" Xander shouted, poking a finger into Spike's shoulder. "Look, you're my friend and Buffy is too. I'm just making sure that-"

"I'm not hurtin' her, right? What the soddin' hell is it with people thinkin' I'm takin' advantage o' her?"

"That's not what I was going to say. I know you, Spike. Hurting her is the last thing you want to do," Xander said.

"Then what?"

"Is it more than just a fling to you? I hope so because that girl up there loves you and she's not gonna understand it if you suddenly decide you don't want that kind of responsibility."

Spike frowned. Is that really what he thought? Is that what everyone thought? That this was some sort of game to him? That he'd really toss Buffy aside when things got too heavy?

His throat closed up a little and he choked on the air he was trying to breathe in. "It's not a fling. God, I... I'm in love with her."

Bloody hell...he'd just said that out loud, hadn't he?





******





Buffy hadn't seen Spike leave, but when she finally noticed he was gone, she felt herself panic a little. Where had he gone and why hadn't he said anything?

All right, just calm down, Buffy. He probably went to the bathroom or something, that's all, she told herself.

"You okay, Buffy?" a voice asked from behind her.

Turning, she saw Angel standing there, a concerned expression on his face. "Oh, I'm fine," she told him, trying to sound carefree, which she had failed miserably at.

"You want me to go get Spike? I think he and Xander went down to the bar," Angel offered and immediately, Buffy relaxed.

See, nothing to worry about, silly.

"No, it's okay. I just..." Her voice trailed off as she gestured wildly, hoping Angel didn't ask any more questions.

He gave her a flummoxed look. "Uh, okay." Suddenly, his face brightened, a grin appearing on his handsome face. "Hey! You wanna go dance?"

"Well, I don't know... Maybe I should-"

"C'mon, Buff, you got to have at least one dance with me. It's my birthday, you know."

She wasn't sure why she was hesitating. After all, it was only Angel. Spike would be okay with her dancing with Angel, right? And Angel did have a point, it was his birthday and they were all there to have a good time.

Shrugging, she returned his smile. "Sure, why not?"

Angel set his drink on a nearby table and offered his arm to her. After looping her arm in his, he led her down the staircase and onto the dance floor where a fast dance beat was pounding out of the speakers.

He startled her by grabbing her hand and spinning her around, but once she regained her footing, she giggled. Laughing at her expression, Angel began dancing along with the music and Buffy quickly followed his lead.

This was actually pretty fun. She hadn't ever really had the opportunity to dance like this before, with other people and in public, no less. Sure, she'd danced within the confines of her own room and had been known to strike a pose at Spike's apartment, but that was usually when she was all alone with nothing but the music to keep her company. Now, she knew what she'd been missing at all of those school dances and parties that she hadn't been allowed to go to.

Angel spun her around again and this time she was ready for it. As soon as she made the full three-sixty back to him, she didn't miss a beat, jumping and doing a little shimmy.

She probably looked like a complete dork, but at least she was in good company. Angel's idea of dancing were a set of jerky movements interspersed with outdated fads like the 'Running Man' all the while continuing to grin like the doofus he was. Of course, he might have only been doing his lame dance moves to make her feel less self-conscious.

As she watched Angel do the 'Hustle', Buffy wondered about Spike. How did he dance? Did he even dance at all? Once she saw him again, she decided she would ask if he wanted to dance. Maybe to something slow, if The Blue Temple played anything slow, that is.

While she was pondering Spike's dancing skills, she didn't notice that Angel had abruptly stopped moving and was now staring at something behind her. "Buffy, come here!" he shouted over the music, motioning her with his hand.

"What's wrong?"

Angel gave her a miserable frown before shaking his head. "I'm about to cause a whole lot of trouble."

"Why?" she asked, slowly turning to see what he was looking at.

Oh.

A huge, hulking man was trying to push past the crowd and he was glaring daggers at Angel every step of the way. Maybe six foot four with arms the size of truck tires, he looked like a charging bull that had just seen red.

Grabbing her hand, Angel started pulling her off the dance floor. "I gotta get you out of here," he said, his eyes darting side to side as if he was looking for something.

"That guy looks pissed. What the heck did you do to him, Angel?"

Angel glanced at her, giving her a sheepish half-smile. "I might have slept with his girlfriend."

"You what!" Buffy exclaimed before punching him in the arm.

"Ow, you hit hard," he replied, momentarily letting go over her hand to rub at his bicep. "It's not like I knew she was his girlfriend! I found out afterwards...when he came home and chased me out of the house with a meat cleaver."

"I-"

Without warning, Angel was pulled backwards, taking Buffy down with him and they both hit the floor with a loud smack. Glancing up, she saw the Bull Man snarling down at them and she yelled when he reached down and clamped his meaty hand around Angel's throat.

"Put him down!" Buffy shouted, pushing herself up and trying to grab at the Bull Man's arm.

Angel's feet were kicking frantically as he tried to seek purchase on the floor five inches below him. "Buffy, get out of here!" he rasped out.

Buffy ignored Angel as she continued to loosen the Bull Man's grasp, pulling and shaking at the length of solid muscle holding Angel up. "Leave him alone! Stop, you're hurting him!"

All she was doing was annoying the giant man and he quickly got tired of her weak attempts. With his free hand, he shoved her and Buffy went sliding on the slick floor, stopping a few feet away. Her hip burned in pain and for a few moments, all she could do was whimper on the floor.

Crying isn't going to help Angel. Get up!

It took every ounce of strength she had, but she did eventually will her body off the floor. She limped back over to the two men, her legs protesting and her nerves screaming. "Let. Him. Go!" she forced out of her burning lungs.

The Bull Man smirked at her then looked at Angel, who was quickly turning an ugly shade of purple. "She doesn't quit, does she?" he sniggered, shaking Angel a little in the process. Then his mean smile disappeared and he was raising his fist, directing in towards her.

Oh my God! I'm gonna-

There was a loud smack and Buffy's eyes popped open.

"You really don't wanna be doin' that, mate."

Spike had the Bull Man's fist in his palm, halting the violent punch from striking her. In a blur, Spike threw the fist backwards and slammed his own into the giant's jaw. Angel fell to the floor, gasping and clutching his throat.

One of the spotlights from above chose right then to shine on Spike's lean figure, his cold glare visible for all to see. His muscles were tense as he stared the Bull Man down, not giving an inch as the man started towards him.

"Ain't none of your business. This is between me and this fuckwad right here," the giant snarled, pointing at Angel's battered form.

Spike's smile began slowly and then turned into a malicious sneer. "See, that's where you're wrong. This here's one o' my best mates an' where there's one, there's the other. We come in pairs, you know."

"He fucked my girlfriend!"

"Oh." His eyebrows rose as if he was surprised. "Well, in that case, have at 'im, mate."

The Bull Man grinned and made a move for Angel again. Buffy looked up at Spike is shock. He wasn't really going to leave Angel to get killed, was he?

Spike stopped, his finger pointed up in the air as he spun on his heel. "There might be one problem though."

"Oh, yeah?" the giant said, his fists already filled with the dark blue fabric of Angel's shirt. "What's that?"

"You touched my girl," Spike told him, his ice blue gaze darting to Buffy. "Now, it really is my business."

The Bull Man didn't look very intimidated by Spike's announcement. He shoved Angel away and stomped over to Spike, leaning in so they were nose to nose. "Maybe if she'd kept her nose out of it, I wouldn't have. Maybe you should learn to keep your bitch in line."

Spike's angry gaze turned deadly, his nostrils flaring as he stepped even closer to the giant. "Maybe you shouldn't push my buttons."

Buffy screamed as the larger man shot his fist out, but Spike was much quicker as he ducked out of the way and punched the guy low in the gut. The Bull Man grunted in pain and went after Spike again, his arms raised with the intention of pounding his opponent into the ground like a fence post. Spike snapped his knee up, slamming into the man's groin, then bounced back as the giant fell backwards holding the flesh at the apex of his thighs.

By the time the Bull Man moved to get up, security was already reaching for him. He shouted at Angel and Spike, promising that he would get them someday, as the bouncers dragged him off the dance floor.

"You all right then?" Spike asked Angel, offering his hand to help his friend off the floor.

"Feel like I've just swallowed a coffee can full of nails, but otherwise..." Angel shrugged and started back up to the VIP room, slowly, very slowly.

Spike stood with his back to her for what felt like hours, the muscles beneath his shirt twitching furiously. When he finally did turn around, Buffy didn't know what to make of his expression.

"Spike, I-"

He grabbed her arm sharply and pulled her behind him as he stalked off the dance floor and through a door that stated 'Employees Only'. They moved quickly down a dark hallway and stopped at a door at the end where Spike pushed her inside.

"Spike, I'm-"

"Stop." Spike slammed the door and rushed across the room where she was standing. He grabbed her shoulders, keeping her still as he looked her over. "What the bloody hell were you thinkin', Buffy!"

"I-"

"What if I hadn't been there? Huh? What then?"

Normally, this would be the point where she broke down and started crying, but all she was really feeling was anger. "What was I supposed to do, Spike? Just let that guy beat Angel up? I couldn't do that."

His jaw tensed for a second, but then his whole body relaxed and he cupped her cheek in his palm. "You could have gotten hurt, luv. I don't know what I would've done if you..."

Buffy could swear she saw his eyes water up, but she brushed the thought aside. It was probably just the light.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't just leave him," she replied.

Spike nodded slightly. "I know. I would have done the same thing."

"Yeah, but you kicked that guy's butt. I just yelled at him." She gave him a tentative smile.

"He got off lucky."

"Where did you learn to fight like that? He was so much bigger than you were."

Spike chuckled at that, running a hand through his curls. "There's no such thing as a fair fight, luv. I jus' use whatever I need t' to knock the bastard down. Learned most o' it when I was still a bar back here. We were the back-up, filled in where were needed."

"Do you ever get scared?"

His smile faded. "I got scared tonight. The minute I realized it was you out there."

"God, Spike, I'm-"

And for the millionth time that night, he cut her off, only this time, it was with a kiss.





******






His tongue darted out to trace her soft, plump lip before slipping inside her mouth and tasting her.

She moaned and he slipped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest and holding her in a solid embrace. There were days he felt like she would just slip away and this was one of them. It only made him hold onto her tighter.

"Buffy," he whispered, his lips trailing across her cheek towards her ear. "Gotta promise me somethin', kitten. You ever get into a situation like this again, you run. I don't care who you're with, run."

"Spike, I can't prom-"

He stepped back so quickly that a wave of dizziness washed over him. "You have to. If anythin' ever happened t' you, I'd..."

She looked up at him with her huge hazel eyes and he was lost. He couldn't live without this beautiful creature at his side, waking up to her sweet smell in the morning, seeing her brilliant smile when she looked at him, listening to her laugh that sounded like a chorus of bells. She was a part of him, anchored in his heart and filling the void with her warmth.

"Buffy, I love you."

"You..."

"I love you. I'm in love with you," he said in a rush, his breath coming out in short pants.

It took a minute for the shock to fall away from her face, but when it did, it was replaced by that brilliant smile he couldn't live without. "Really?"

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "God, yes. I'm so fuckin' in love with you I can barely stand up straight. God, yes, I love you, Buffy."

"Spike?"

His eyes popped back open and he felt breathless all over again. "Yeah, kitten?"

"I think I'm ready to go home now."
Chapter 30 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
Oh, hi! Remember me? So, I thought you guys might like a little update. Nothing too fancy. Let me know what you think. Happy holidays!!!
They were barely inside the apartment before Spike was reaching for the hem of Buffy's dress and drawing it from her body. He let the silky garment slip out his fingers and onto the floor as he gazed at her beautiful form. She was golden everywhere, glowing, gleaming, sparkling under the dim light emanating from the floor lamps in various locations around the living room. The dusty pink lace of her bra and panties flowed over her feminine curves like a second skin and suddenly, he was desperate to peel them away, to see the flesh beneath them, to taste and touch every inch.

He fell to his knees in front of her and reached up to encircle her waist with his hands. "Buffy," he whispered before he laid a soft kiss on her belly.

His fingers slid down, looping over the elastic of her panties, and as he began to slowly pull on them, he looked up at her with hungry intent. She gasped as her eyes met his, her balance faltering and immediately her hands sought purchase on his broad shoulders to steady herself. Once they were free of her legs, he flung the underwear over his shoulder and reached behind her knee, tugging it upward until it was draped over his shoulder.

The delicate folds of her pussy were glistening from her arousal and before allowing himself a taste, Spike inhaled the scent of her. It was musky, rich, and completely mouthwatering. He snaked his arm around her thigh and pressed his thumb against the softness just above her clit and pushed up, revealing the flushed red button of nerves to his gaze and more importantly, his mouth. The touch of his tongue against it was just a whisper, but it made Buffy cry out and buck against him.

"Spike!"

Her legs begun to shake as he flattened his tongue against her clit and shook his head, all the while his free hand was smoothing up the length of her thigh. His fingers encountered the warm, wet crevice and without much preamble, he slid his index finger into her velvet opening. Her muscles gripped him like a hot fist and Spike's eyes crossed slightly as the sensation caused his dick to harden instantly. He added a second finger, stretching her, preparing her, because the Lord knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer, not with the need twisting in his stomach.

"C'mon, baby, come for me," he growled, doubling his efforts to bring her to climax.

And then, as if she had been waiting for his instruction all along, her muscles tensed and her head rolled back on her shoulders. A keening wail fell from her lips as a tremor overtook her body.

In a breath, he was picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. He placed her on the bed and set to work on his clothes, tearing his shirt open and losing a button or two in the process, unzipping his pants and kicking them off along with his shoes and socks. His hand gripped his erection tightly and pumped the steely flesh as he kneeled on the bed. In a blink, he had a condom from the bedside table and was rolling it over his cock.

He urged himself to slow down. As desperate as he was for her, the last thing Spike wanted to do was hurt her and rushing would do just that. He moved between her thighs and dipped his head down, capturing her mouth in a bruising, passionate kiss. His tongue caressed the warm cavern of her mouth and earned him a sensual, and purely feminine, moan.

"I wanna make love to you, Buffy," he rasped. "Need you so bad."

Then he positioned his cock at her entrance and slowly, painstakingly slid into her. Her muscles were vice-tight for a fraction of a second before they loosened, allowing him to sink all...the...way...in. She screamed when the head brushed against the wall of her cervix and her back arched sharply off the bed. God, he was so fucking deep!

His hands cupped her hips as he starting thrusting, holding her steady as he rocked into her body faster and harder. She was grasping and pulling at the sheets, her eyes squeezed tightly as wave after wave of sensation flowed over her. Her pussy fluttered around his cock, milking him, urging him on and as the orgasm hit her, it sent him spiraling into his own release.

He shouted a garbled obscenity as his back went ramrod straight and he shot his seed into the safety of the latex barrier. His hips jerked until there was nothing left in him and then he collapsed onto the bed next to Buffy's shaking form, both out of breath, chests heaving from exertion.

There was nothing but the sound of their harsh breathing for several minutes and once that finally died down, silence.

"Hey."

Spike turned his head to look at her. She was staring up at the ceiling with a contemplative expression on her sweet face. "What?" he asked as he put his arms behind his head and tried to figure out what she was looking at.

"We just had sex and I still have my shoes on."

Spike couldn't help but laugh.




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



Several hours later...



Her fingers walked down his chest, over his breastbone and between the ripples of abdominal muscles that lined a path to his bellybutton. The pad of her index finger traced the rim of the slight indentation before continuing its journey, slipping underneath the cool, silky sheet that covered the lower part of his body.

Buffy chanced a quick look at Spike's face as she reached the coarse curls just above his rapidly rising cock. What she saw made her flush with excitement and blush with embarrassment, though the pink stains could hardly be identified as one or the other. His eyes were closed tightly, head dipped back into the pillow, neck muscles straining and between his teeth, he had caught his lower lip. His skin was glistening in the dim light with a layer of sweat that had also turned his once slicked back white blond hair into a mass of curls. The longer she waited to move further down the more tense his body became. He fisted his hands into the sheets and arched his lower back in an urgent demand for more.

She wasn't sure what prompted her to say it. Perhaps it was insecurity or playfulness or a desire to dominate. Maybe she just liked hearing it over and over again. "Tell me," she said in a thick and sultry voice that sounded alien to her.

A sharp intake of breath made his chest expand and his stomach contract. His eyes opened to reveal lust-drunk blue; a shade so intense it rivaled the brightest cerulean and deepest indigo. He swallowed hard then let his tongue slide out to moisten his parched lips.

"I love you, Buffy," he rumbled. His hand found hers and grasped it firmly in his hot fist. "Always."

She stared at him for a long time, letting his words sink in, basking in the warmth that it created deep within her. He made her feel...complete, whole. She hadn't felt that way since her mom and Giles had died and that had been so long ago. It was like coming home again, as if the last three years hadn't even happened.

But they had happened. Her entire life had fallen apart in the time it took the police officer to say, ‘I'm sorry, Miss Summers.' And those four seconds threaded out into the fabric of time and blanketed the whole of her existence with pain and loss. The grief that should have healed long ago was still an open sore that stung with every breath of air. She had never been allowed to move past those few heart-wrenching moments. Not until now.

A single tear glided down her cheek. "I love you, too, Spike. So much."

"Buffy, luv," he began as his hand came up to caress her cheek and he wiped away the wetness with his thumb. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

The expression on his face told her that she wasn't convincing in the least. "C'mon, tell me. Five minutes ago you were grinnin' like the cat that ate the canary an' now you're crying. Don't tell me it's nothin'."

She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "This is really happening, isn't it?"

For a moment he looked confused, his dark eyebrows coming together in a point above the bridge of his straight nose then his expression softened. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and cupped her chin, turning her face to look at him.

"I'm never gonna leave you, Buffy," Spike said. "It's you an' me against the world."

"But what-"

He covered her lips with his index finger. "Shhh, none o' that. It's not gonna happen, luv. I won't let it."

Those were familiar words. Spike had said them to her more times that she could remember, but this was the first time she actually let herself believe them. It felt real now. No more fear, no more looking over her shoulder or jumping at the slightest sound. Everything would be all right, just like he promised her.

The corners of her mouth twitched until soon she was smiling so wide it took over the whole of her face. Her cheeks blossomed like rosy red apples and her eyes lit up as she looked at the man that had changed her world from dark and dismal to shining and free.

"I love you!" she exclaimed with all of the enthusiasm and emotion that was bubbling in her chest.

His eyebrow quirked over his left eye, amused at her declaration. "You do, huh? Well, it just so happens that I know exactly what t' do in this situation."

She squealed as he grabbed her around the waist and hefted her up over his body until she was straddling his hips. The thick erection that she had moments earlier been teasing poked at her bottom insistently. His hands settled on the tops of her knees and began to slide up her silky smooth skin, then grasped her hips, his thumbs resting on the V between her thighs.

"I want you t' try somethin' for me," he said thickly.

She trusted him, always trusted him, but that didn't stop the nervous tingles from shooting up and down her spine or the butterflies in her stomach. It wasn't fear that made her anxious, though, it was the anticipation of what was to come.

"Okay," she replied with a small hitch in her breath.

The smile that crossed his lips was sinful, wicked. He reached over to the nightstand and tore a little square off of the strip of condoms. "Scoot down, luv."

"Can..." The words bunched up in her throat and she looked down suddenly, slightly mortified at the thought running through her head.

He tipped her chin up with the knuckle of his index finger. "Can you what? Tell me."

It took her a moment to work up the courage to actually ask him what was on her mind. "Can I..." She motioned to the foil wrapper between his fingers. "Can I try?"




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



The girl was full of bloody surprises. Just when he thought he knew what was going to come out of those sweet pink lips of hers, she went and shocked him again. She seemed embarrassed though and as quickly as he had caught her gaze it was gone again, her head dipping down in an effort to hide her face. As curious as she was, insecurity and inexperience always seemed to quell her bravery.

He was determined to get her over this tendency of shying away. Until then, however, he would just enjoy her innocent movements and timid requests for what they were: genuine and honest. They certainly weren't things he normally found in his day to day life, not with the company he kept or the places he frequented. Of course, all of that was different now.

Grasping her hand, he placed the condom in her smooth palm. "Baby, you can try anything you want. All you gotta do is ask an' it's yours," he told her.

A visible shiver ran through her body and she bit at her lower lip. Her fingers closed over the packet as she brought it inward to study it. She played with the corners of it until she mustered up the nerve to open it. Once the round latex was out, she looked up at him in bewilderment.

"What do I do with..." She swallowed hard as she waved the now empty wrapper through the air between them.

He bit back a chuckle and grabbed the leftover from her, tossing it over the side of the bed. "Tidiness is the last thing you should be worried about, kitten."

The corner of her mouth turned up in a tentative smile. A fresh flush darkened her cheeks then travelled down the creamy skin of her neck and chest. She wiggled slightly, causing him to groan out loud as her wet folds dragged across his skin.

"Sorry," she said with a giggle.

"You'll really be sorry in a minute if you don't get t' it. I'm dyin' here." It wasn't an empty threat either since he was a second away from rolling them over and taking them both for a wild ride. He could feel the heat coming off of him in waves, lust and want running like a raging river through his veins.

She swallowed again and took a large breath. "What do I do now, Spike?"

"You, uh," he started with a shaky voice, "pinch the top first."

Buffy did as he instructed, carefully pressing the latex between her fingers, before looking up at him for the next step. That look alone was almost enough to set him off, but he reined in the impulse before he could act on it.

His eyelids fluttered as he grabbed the length of his hard cock with one hand, passionate fire igniting under his skin as his own fingers caressed the flesh. "Gimme your hand, pet," Spike growled.

As he steadied his member upwards, he wrapped her hand around it and brought his now free hands to rest on her thighs. Before he could get another direction out she placed the condom onto the swollen mushroom-shaped head and gave him a triumphant grin.

"That part I knew," she told him.

"Minx," he remarked under his breath. "Roll it down now. Slowly. Keep the top between your fingers."

Slowly, he'd said. That was bloody brilliant, he thought as the firm pressure of her fingertips slowly drove him to oblivion. He'd never really considered the act of putting on a condom, even by the hands of a female companion, all that sexy. Hell, it wasn't sexy in the least, just a necessary precaution like putting on sunscreen or buckling your seatbelt. But when Buffy was at the helm he had to beg the divine powers above to save him from spontaneous combustion.

"There." She clapped her hands together as if she had just finished something completely mundane.

He shook his head. "You are such a bloody enigma."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked, her head tilted to one side quizzically.

His dark eyebrows went up before he pushed himself up far enough to wrap a strong arm around her waist and lift her body. He held her just above his pelvis for a moment as he gave her a wickedly sexual look, blue eyes narrowed, lips pursed together with a hint of a smirk.

"You tell me, luv," he replied just before lowering her onto his cock.






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



It was close to one in the afternoon when they slid into a booth at Peg's Diner. The morning had been spent in the laziest fashion imaginable except for perhaps the lovemaking, which may have been slow and sweet, but certainly not lazy. They had lounged in bed until hunger and the need for a shower was overwhelming. And finally, after the longest shower in recorded history, they managed to crawl out of the blissed fog and keep food at the forefront of their priorities long enough to drive to the diner.

Suddenly, Stella was standing in front of their table with a fresh pot of coffee in hand. "Coffee, kids?" she asked.

"Yes, please," Spike replied as he turned his coffee mug right side up.

Buffy chewed on her lower lip for a brief moment before saying, "Me, too, please."

He arched a dark brow at her. "Drinkin' coffee now?"

"Yep," she said with a proud grin. "And there's nothing you can do about it."

He laughed, shaking his head, then turned his attention to the menu.

After Stella took their food orders and left to put them in with the kitchen, Spike leaned back in the booth and gave Buffy a wicked leer. "I think I might be corrupting you, luv," he told her. "Nightclubs and sex and now coffee? What's next? Strip clubs and liquor?"

"Eww, Spike!"

He just chuckled at that. "Have you had coffee before?"

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "Uh, duh, of course I have. I'm almost seventeen, Spike; I've had coffee before."

Almost seventeen... That was true. Her birthday was coming up in a couple of weeks and she'd be another year older. The significance of it wasn't lost on him. It didn't matter that he knew they weren't doing anything wrong because in the eyes of the law, she was still underage. The law wouldn't care that he was completely bug-shagging crazy in love with this girl, that he was giving her a safe home and keeping her from harm or even that she was a willing participant in their relationship. To them, the subject of their relationship would be inconsequential just because of her age. And until she was eighteen, they would always be living precariously.

Fuck it. He didn't care. No one was going to tell him how to live his life especially in regards to Buffy. Not even the law.

"Spike?" She kept her gaze trained to her coffee mug as her finger traced the rim.

"Yeah, pet?"

There were words on her lips, but no sound came out of her mouth for a moment, almost as if they were lodged in her throat. "I... I was thinking," she began, her gaze flicking upwards to meet his, "that maybe I could...you know, go back to school."

A wave of panic filled him. What was he supposed to say to that? Hell, he wanted her to finish school, too, but just how were they going to accomplish that without tipping off that she was here? Her father may not be looking for her, but Spike wasn't exactly her legal guardian either. He could imagine what might happen if he tried to enroll her in public school and it wasn't a pretty image.

"Do you...not want me to go back to school?"

Her question created a dam on the river of his thoughts and he gave her an earnest look. "No, Buffy, that's not-" He swiped a hand over his face and exhaled a heavy breath. "Of course I want you t' go back t' school. I want you t' finish an' go on t' college so that you can become a doctor or a lawyer or a bloody astrophysicist, whatever you want. I'm just not sure how we're gonna do that right now."

"Because of how old I am," she added solemnly.

"Hey," he said, reaching across the table for her hand and grasping it firmly in his. "We'll figure it out, luv. I'm not gonna let anythin' stop us from movin' on with our lives. At the very worst, we have t' wait another year t' work on gettin' you that diploma, but we will, Buffy. I promise."

A corner of her mouth lifted as she flashed him a lopsided smile. "I love you, Spike."

After the dozens of times they'd said that to one another in the last twelve hours, Spike would have figured he'd be sick of hearing it and downright nauseated at saying it back, but he wasn't. In fact, the more he heard it the more he wanted to hear it. Over and over and over again, until he was drunk on it. If there was nothing else on this earth that he heard except for those three words in her melodious voice, he would be content for the rest of his life. And he wanted to say it back, until his voice cracked from overuse, until there was no question left in her about how much he loved her.

"I love you, too, Buffy." Forever. Always.
Chapter 31 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
*tap, tap, tap* Is this thing on? I am now pleased to introduce a new chapter of The Trouble With Keeping Promises. Read, enjoy, review (please).

 

 

Angel’s expression suggested they were looking at an alien autopsy.  His face was contorted into a grotesque caricature of disgusted horror, like something out of an 80’s slasher flick.  “Are you sure you want to do this, Spike?  I mean-“ he visibly shivered “-this isn’t something to be taken lightly.”

Rolling his eyes, Spike pushed himself up from a kneeled position.  “They’re bloody puppies, you great big git.”

Just then the scrappy black one with the white patch over its eye let out a shrill bark and tried to attack Angel’s leg through the glass wall of his pen.  If he hadn’t already been taken with the little mutt, Spike would have been sold after that display of good taste.  Spike grinned wide as he reached into the confinement and picked the bugger up.

“No, not that one!” Angel exclaimed.  “If you’re going to seriously go through with this, you should pick the one that isn’t criminally insane.  Like that one in the corner.”

Spike studied the puppy, which was huddling in the far corner of the pen, for a moment before shaking his head.  “It’s brooding.”

“No, it isn’t.  He’s just…thoughtful.”

“He’s bloody sulking.  Clearly, it has issues.”

“Maybe his issues aren’t his fault.  How would you feel if you were on display in a giant fishbowl in the middle of the mall?”

Spike arched a brow.  “I take it back.  You’re the one with the issues.”

“Look,” Angel began, his arms folding over his chest.  “All I’m saying is that this is a big step and maybe you shouldn’t rush into it.”

“It’s a dog, Angel, not an engagement ring.”

“If you’re saying that, then you really don’t have a clue,” Angel informed him.  “You buy a woman something that needs to be fed and watered and housetrained and trust me, you might as well be strapping yourself down to a minivan, khaki pants and the white picket nightmare.”

Captain Forehead probably had a point and that point should have scared the living hell out of him, yet Spike was…contemplative about the idea.  Marriage.  Kids.  A nice suburban home with a lush green lawn and the scent of hamburgers on the grill.  Buffy’s smiling face, her belly round with his child, glowing, gleaming--- effulgent.

Of course, he drew the line at the minivan and he wasn’t thinking about actually having any of those things for a good long while, but that future appealed to him in a way he had never thought it would.  He couldn’t remember a time when he wanted to get married or have children; in fact, he actively sought to avoid both.  It wasn’t until Buffy that his vision of the future had begun to change, his subconscious slipping in bits of children’s laughter and wedding marches until everything was infused with her and him and their life together.

“Tell me it ain’t so, Spike.”

Spike blinked away the cloud of thoughts and frowned at Angel.  “Wot?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like Buffy, but you can’t seriously be thinking you want to marry her,” Angel said, his mouth gaping open slightly like a fish out of water.

A part of him wanted to tell Angel where to stick it, that he could think or do whatever he pleased, but he didn’t want to explain himself.  Not about this.  Not when the idea was so fresh in his brain that all of his nerves were firing out of order.  Yes, he was thinking about it, or maybe thinking about thinking about it.  Or maybe, he had been thinking about it for a while and never realized it.  Or-

“It’s a soddin’ puppy!” Spike shouted, lifting the squirmy creature up to Angel’s face.  “It’s Buffy’s birthday an’ she wanted a pet, so that’s what I’m doin’.  End of story.”

Angel threw his hands up in surrender and took a great step back.  “Okay, okay.  Just trying to look out for you, is all.”

Rolling his eyes, Spike threw out a two-fingered salute to Angel’s stupidity then turned on his heel to go to the counter.

“Are you interested in purchasing that little guy, sir?” the plump woman behind the counter asked.

He gave her a sheepish grin.  “Yeah, ‘s for my girlfriend.  It’s her birthday.”

Spike could practically see the little cartoon hearts swimming around the clerk as she sighed.  “That is so sweet.  I’m sure she will love him.  His litter comes from very reputable breeders, so I can guarantee his temperament.  He’s also all current on his vaccinations and he just had a well check last week.  How would you like to pay?”

“Cash.”

“Okay, so that’ll be…”  Her voice trailed off as she grabbed a small binder from the shelf and began sifting through the pages.  “Twelve hundred eighty-six dollars and thirty-seven cents.” 

His jaw dropped.  “How much?”

The clerk rattled off the price again with a bright smile then began going on about taxes and dog breeds and why the mutt in his hands was so expensive.  Honestly, it all sounded like bullshit to him.  It was highway robbery where the victims were lured in by the cute furry faces peering out of their cages, seemingly saying with their big eyes, ‘Take me home, please.  I am terribly cute and vulnerable.  Please buy me before some mean bastard gets to me first.’

Spike looked down at the puppy and the scrappy bugger ruffed at him then licked his hand.  Oh, hell.  It was only money, right?  He dug into his jeans to fish out his wallet and began counting out money.

“Oi!  Angel!  Loan me three hundred bucks!”

 

***

 

Buffy hissed and rubbed at the red scorch mark that she had just given herself with the curling iron.  It really wouldn’t be a stretch to say that she was beauty technique-challenged.  She was constantly burning, poking, smearing, dropping and streaking when she attempted to make herself more presentable.  Luckily, Anya was always around help and even though Buffy wished it were her own mother fussing over her, Anya was the best alternative she could have ever hoped for.

“Don’t worry, we all burn ourselves sometimes,” Anya was saying as she put a little ointment on the burn right below Buffy’s hairline.

Once Anya moved, Buffy got a good look at the damage she had done.  “Ahh!  Anya, it looks like I put my head on the stove!  It looks horrible!”

Anya slapped her hands away.  “Stop touching it.  You’ll only make it worse.  We’ll cover it up and no one will be able to see it.”

A few moments later, Anya had Buffy sitting on the vanity and was dabbing on concealer, then foundation.  Cream blush was next followed by a dusting of powder on her forehead, nose and chin.  The eyes were Buffy least favorite part, but Anya kept it simple this time with a peachy eye shadow and slate gray eyeliner with a few coats of mascara.

“Do you know where Spike is taking me?” Buffy asked.

“No, he said I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret,” Anya replied, voice coated in outrage.  “I can keep a secret very well, I’ll have you know.”

Buffy wasn’t going to disagree with Anya even if her friend truly couldn’t keep a secret.  She wasn’t at all surprised that Spike hadn’t divulged his plans to Anya either, but she had to admit that she was a bit bummed that she couldn’t glean even a hint as to what tonight had in store for her.  Anya had been her last chance for some information because everyone else had kept their mouths firmly sealed shut, including Spike.

The last few weeks had gone by in a blur- a happy, bathed-in-sex blur that had her walking around like she was dumbed down.  It was nice not having her thoughts churning constantly or fear sending her into a panic, though, she could do without the clumsiness that her body sans brain seemed to incur.  Case in point, the stupid burn on her head that was still stinging.

The front door shut with a muffled thump and Buffy could hear Spike moving around the apartment. 

“Buffy, luv?  Are you ready to go?”

Her heart fluttered at the sound of his voice.  “Yeah!  I’ll be out in a second.”

She and Anya quickly finished up their preparations and after giving herself one last look in the mirror, she rushed out of the bathroom to meet him in the living room. 

He stood towards the middle of the room, tall and confident, wearing black pants and jacket over a silk aubergine shirt and black leather shoes.  His platinum blond hair was slicked back straight and Buffy longed to run her fingers through it, mussing it up and working all of the gel out until all was left were those soft curls that he worked so hard to hide.  He had caught his lip between his teeth and was staring up at her through his lashes as if a full on look would be his undoing.  Then he crooked a finger and motioned her to come hither.

“You’re beautiful, Buffy Summers,” he whispered breathlessly.

She blushed.  “Nu-uh.  You’re just saying that because it’s my birthday.”

His gaze intensified as his thumb moved to brush against her sticky, gloss-covered lip.  “Not just.  Birthday or not, baby, you shine like the sun.”

Buffy melted at his declaration and a very large part of her wanted to say the hell with special birthday plans and show him just how much she loved it when he said things like that.  Well, she really didn’t think he’d mind spending the night in, especially since that seemed to be his favorite thing to do these days.  Maybe she could just slip a hand down the front of his pants and murmur dirty things into his ear and he would forget all about whatever arrangements he’d made for the evening.

She grinned, taking a step towards him and then begun tracing a line from behind his ear down.  There was a spark of lust flaring in his eyes as her fingers played at the fabric covering his navel.  She licked her lips then slid her hand down, down, dow-

“You’re going to be late if you keep that up.”

At Anya’s voice, Buffy bolted backwards and proceeded to trip over her own feet.  She wobbled, her high heels making it impossible to catch her balance and she started toppling over.  But then a strong hand clasped her arm and she felt her body begin righting itself upward.

“Easy, luv,” Spike said, anxious as he checked her over.  “You okay?  Didn’t twist anythin’, did you?”

Buffy shook her head.  “No, no, I’m okay.  Just really clumsy lately.”

“Well, it probably didn’t help that someone startled you.”  Spike glared at Anya as she hedged around them towards the door.

“Oh, excuse me, I was just trying to keep you two from going at it like rabbits…again, so you weren’t late for whatever big, fancy plans- that I know nothing about- you have.  Remind me not to help next time,” Anya retorted before exiting the apartment with a loud slam of the door.

“I think you hurt her feelings,” Buffy said softly.

Spike sighed then nodded.  “Yeah.  I’ll apologize to her tomorrow.  But she’s right.  If we don’t get goin’, we will be late.”  He grabbed his keys from the table beside the door and started ushering her out.

“So,” she began nonchalantly.  “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, luv, an’ that’s all I’m sayin’.”

Buffy stuck her lower lip out.  “I hate surprises.”

 

***

 

Now he remembered why he hated driving a car in Las Vegas.  Traffic on the Strip was horrendous as usual, but instead of being able to zoom around it all on his bike, he was stuck in Angel’s Viper surrounded by all of the other gits trying to get by the streams of pedestrians and lunatic cabbies. 

“I thought Angel worked with you at The Blue Temple.”

Spike flicked his gaze to Buffy.  “He does.  Why?”

She hesitated for a moment, her hands fidgeting in her lap.  “Well, this is a really nice car.  How can he afford it?  I mean, I know that you guys probably make pretty good money, but you’re not rich, right?”

He laughed.  “No, we’re certainly not.”

“Then how?”

“Angel has a lot of girlfriends.  A lot of rich, married girlfriends that like to keep him in the lap of luxury.”

“Oh.”

He stopped the car at a red light and turned to her.  She was frowning, that little crease between her eyebrows deep as she visibly contemplated what he’d said.

 “Doesn’t make him a bad person, luv.  Just unconventional,” Spike told her.

“But they’re married.  That’s not right, Spike.  How would you feel if we were married and I started cheating on you with Angel?  Would you still think he was a good person?”

There were so many triggers in what she said that Spike wasn’t sure what to focus on first.  Them married?  Her cheating?  With Angel?  And would he still think Angel was a good person if the issue was a bit more personal?  He felt his anger start to build, but he quickly smothered it.  It wasn’t real.  Just some hypothetical question like which came first, the chicken or the egg? 

But...what if?

“Would you do that?” he asked quietly just as traffic began to move once more.

“Do what?”

He snorted at the absurdity of his train of thought, but in the end, he couldn’t stop himself from vocalizing it.  “Cheat on me.”

The expression on her face spoke volumes.  Shock and outrage made her eyes go wide and she looked as if she had truly been insulted. 

“No!  It was just a-“

“I know.  I know it was just an example, but…  Soddin’ hell, Buffy, I don’t know what I would do if…”  Spike let out a defeated breath.  God, he was a prat.  “If you ever…  If you find someone else, just break it off then and there.  Don’t go behind my back.  I don’t think I could…”

“Spike, I’m not going to find someone else.  I love you.  There’s no one else I could ever love,” Buffy assured him vehemently.  “Ever.”

He shook his head, self-doubt flooding his veins and settling into the pit of his stomach.  “You say that now, but one day you might change your mind.  There are a lot of good men in the world, Buffy.  Younger, richer, smarter than me.  Maybe one will come along and sweep you off your feet and I wouldn’t blame you for tradin’ up.  I want you to be happy, luv, even if that means you bein’ with someone else.”

“Do you want me to find someone else?”

“What?  No!”

“Good!  Because I don’t want anyone else.  I want you.  I love you, Spike, not Mister Younger-Richer-Smarter.  So like it or not, you’re stuck with me,” she declared, folding her arms over her chest with a finality that made him crack a smile.

Stuck with her sounded like heaven to him. 

 

***

 

They started the night with dinner at Chouwa, a traditional Japanese restaurant with the city’s best sushi.  Spike even tried the raw sashimi that she had ordered for herself, though she didn’t think he would be trying it again anytime soon considering the look he had made.  It was a texture thing.

After that, Spike took her to see a Cirque Du Soleil show at one of the huge casinos.  She was mesmerized by the acrobatics and high flying performers as they were lifted up towards the expansive ceiling on thin wires.  They danced across the stage, vaulted up in somersaults and back flips, and did things with their bodies that Buffy didn’t think was humanly possible. 

Spike knew someone on the backstage crew, so after the show was over, they got a behind the scenes tour.  She stared in wonder at all of the mechanical devices, pulleys and wires, catwalks and lighting as they walked around.  How cool would it be to work for a show, she thought.  In fact, while she was impressed by the performers, it was the backstage crew that really blew her away.  They weren’t in the spotlight, but without them, there would be no show. 

They went to Paris next and caught the view from the Eiffel Tower replica.  The city was lit up in bright, vibrant colors and the streets were a river of motion as people crowded the sidewalks on either side and traffic ran in constant waves on the Strip.

“This is probably the closest I’ll ever get to Paris,” she remarked without much meaning.

Spike arched an eyebrow at her.  “Do you want to go to Paris?”

“Oh.  Well, I guess so.  I never really thought about it before.  Didn’t seem very likely to happen so…”

“If you want to go, luv, I’ll take you.  It’s a beautiful city, especially at night.  This-“ he motioned to the cityscape before them, “is like a trailer park compared to Paris.”

“You’ve been to Paris?”

He leaned against the railing and nodded.  “Britain and France are close t’ each other.  Pretty common for folks to take holiday there.  Uncle Rupert took me an’ my mum when I was fourteen and after I started university, my flat mates and I went a couple times a year up until we graduated.”

“I miss Giles.”

“Me too, baby, me too.”

Leaving Paris, Spike drove them to a tiny Italian bakery that had fresh, homemade gelato and tiramisu.  Buffy would later be ashamed to admit that she ate both even though she was still full from dinner, but she couldn’t very well pass up the tiramisu after they stuck a little candle in it for her when Spike mentioned it was her birthday.  That would have been rude, right?

The evening was coming to a close and Buffy couldn’t remember a better night even if it had started out the slightest bit rocky.  There was only one thing that would make it all perfect, but she would have to wait until they got home for that.

Spike parked the car under the carport that was reserved for visitors and ran around to open the door for her.

“Did you have fun tonight, Buffy?” he asked her as they walked up the grassy hill to their apartment.

She beamed.  “Mmmhmm!  The best birthday ever!”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Well, you know the night isn’t over yet,” he said as they stopped in front of their door.

“I hope not.  I still have to unwrap my present.” 

His eyes went wide at that.  “What do you mean?”

Buffy giggled, then slid her hand along his belt, her fingers moving to unfasten the end from the buckle.  “I wonder what it could be,” she commented in mock-innocence. 

Suddenly, she found herself shoved against the door and Spike was kissing her fiercely.  His tongue slipped between her lips and tasted her mouth, still sweet from dessert.  He moaned her name as his hands sought purchase on her hips and his teeth nipped at her fleshy, pink bottom lip.

“Are you sure it’s not my birthday, luv?  ‘Cause I feel like I’m the one getting the gift.”

“Lame,” she retorted.  “Would you open the door already? “

Spike fiddled with the lock and then the door popped open wide, revealing a big, red box with a gold bow in the entryway.

“What?” she said dumbly.

“Go on.  Open it.”

She shook her head.  “What?  It’s mine?”

“Of course, it’s bloody yours.  You didn’t think I wouldn’t buy you a present, did you?” Spike replied as he encouraged her to go inside.

“Oh.  I-  What is it?”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh before grinning at her.  “Just open the box!”

Buffy inched forward until she was right in front of it then she carefully knelt down.  It was a large box and she couldn’t even begin to imagine what might be in it.  Well, that is until the box suddenly lurched and…barked at her?

It took her a moment to-

“No!  No way!” she shouted, throwing Spike a shocked look over her shoulder.

She ripped the bow off and lifted the lid.  There, sitting in the middle of the box, was a black puppy with a white patch over his eye and a little tag that said ‘Scrappy’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 32 by Jaesha
Author's Notes:
STOP! Did you read Chapter 31 first? If not, go back. There are two chapters uploaded today.

 

The Southern Nevada Correctional Center was located in Jean, Nevada, just a thirty minute drive from Las Vegas.  It was medium security, holding mostly sex offenders and small time felons, and of course, it was also the primary residence for William Harold DeMille aka Willie D. 

Agent Orange was not a good color for Willie and it was pretty clear from the man’s graying hair and scruffy appearance that prison life wasn’t such a good look for him either.  He shuffled along to the visitor’s booth, pulled the aluminum chair out with a screech against the concrete floor and warily took his seat.  He let out a heavy, exhausted sigh before picking up the receiver.

“You gotta get me out of here, Lindsey.  Things aren’t…good,” he said, voice rough.

Lindsey McDonald, Senior Associate at Wolfram and Hart, had tried his best to get Willie acquitted of the charges against him, but they had been cursed with a hard-assed judge who Willie had been before on multiple occasions.  Judge Snyder had dismissed Lindsey’s attempts to explain that it was all some sort of misunderstanding and promptly sentenced Willie to the maximum sentence.

“I’m working on it, Willie,” Lindsey replied, even though he knew it was an empty declaration.  The senior partners had already decided Willie wasn’t worth the effort and while he didn’t know it yet, this would be the last visit from Wolfram and Hart that Willie would be receiving.

While Willie wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, he wasn’t completely stupid either and he didn’t hesitate to show his mistrust.  “Damn you, McDonald!  I’m in here because of you, you know.  I wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t taken that job to find your boss’s kid.  Now get me out!”

Lindsey hissed at him.  “Shut up now or we’ll stop payment.  Unless, that is, you want your mother to be kicked out on her ass because she can’t pay her mortgage.  Is that what you want, Willie?”

“No!  No, don’t-  I won’t say anything, I promise.  I just…”  Tears began to well in the man’s eyes, fear making his face go slack.  “You don’t know what it’s like in here.  This isn’t like work camp.  There are some serious sick fucks in this joint.  Please, Lindsey.  Please get me out of here.”

“Okay.”  Lindsey sighed heavily and wiped his hand over his face.  “Okay, just let me work on it, Willie.  It’s not going to be easy, but I’ll fix it.  Just keep your head down and your mouth shut until then.  Got it?”

Willie nodded emphatically.  “Yeah, yeah, no problem, boss.”

“Good.  I have to go.  I’ll put some money on your books,” Lindsey told him then hung his receiver up.

As he walked away, Lindsey saw Willie put his palm to the glass and look longingly at the lawyer’s retreat.  Fuck.  The guy was too soft to be in prison and while Lindsey’s conscience was usually turned off to such things, Willie’s predicament was weighing heavily on his mind. 

He pulled out his cell phone once he left the building and quickly dialed Marcus Hamilton’s office.

“Wolfram and Hart, this is Hamilton.”

“It’s Lindsey.”

“Oh, good, Mr. McDonald, I was expecting your call.  The senior partners have made a decision regarding your client, William DeMille.”

Lindsey knew too well not expect good news even though Hamilton’s voice was cheerful and professional.  He had learned that there wasn’t a bastard on the face of the planet that could rival Hamilton’s cold heart.

“As of today, Wolfram and Hart is severing all ties to Mr. DeMille, including payment for his services.  The senior partners want you back in the office by five today to go over the Hoffman case,” Hamilton said jovially.

Shit.  “Look, Hamilton, I think we should reconsider cutting Willie loose.  He’s ready to talk if we drop him and I know Mr. Summers wanted to keep-“

“Mr. DeMille will be handled.  Mr. Summers has requested that I take over the details of his daughter’s disappearance.  You will be reassigned to the Hoffman case.”

Lindsey ran a rough hand through his hair.  “What do you mean ‘handled’?  We’re not in the business of murder-for-hire last time I looked.”

Hamilton grunted and his tone took on a dangerous quality.  “This is not up for discussion, Mr. McDonald, and you should be very careful not to give off the perception that you are less than a team player.  The senior partners have made their ruling.  If I were you, I would forget all about Mr. DeMille and any involvement you have had with the Summers’ case.  Bad things happen to people who don’t mind what they’re told.”

The line went dead with a click.

Lindsey ground his teeth together and threw his phone against the blacktop of the parking lot.  Son of a bitch!  He’d worked for months to find Hank Summers’ teenage daughter, tracked her all the way to Las Vegas and was just days away from finding her.  This was how his hard work was repaid?  A hit on his longtime associate and removal from a case he had built from the ground up?   

There was something wrong.  This wasn’t just some girl running away from home.  Why was Hank Summers spending valuable company resources to find his daughter without alerting the authorities or press?  Did the girl know something she shouldn’t?  It wouldn’t surprise him if she did; after all, Hank Summers wasn’t the most upstanding citizen even if he worked hard to maintain that he was.

If it were true, how far would Hank go to keep his daughter from spilling his secrets?  Was he evil enough to suffer her the same fate that had befallen Willie?  The scary part was while Lindsey couldn’t say if he was, he also couldn’t say he wasn’t either.  That sort of ambiguous answer didn’t inspire confidence and if Hank were capable of doing such a thing, then Lindsey had practically handed her dead body on a plate to the fucker.

Chapter 33 by Jaesha

Four a.m., when the lights were all up and the music was off, when the only sounds were clanking of glasses as tired hands neatly stacked them for the next night and the shuffling of a broom against the poured concrete floor.  Four a.m. was the time when thoughts that had been pushed aside in favor of the job at hand came rushing back in startling volume.  There were no customers to distract him.  There was no thumping club mix to drown out the fury of his inner monologue.  At four a.m., he had no reprieve from the dilemmas warring in his brain.

Spike frowned at the bottle of Chivas in his hand before marking the sight-based measurement on his inventory sheet.  Thoughts of Buffy were making his attempts to finish off the weekly inventory near to impossible.  Frustration was quickly turning into irritably, a fact that was plainly obvious to anyone who cared to look.

“Dude, you okay?”

Spike’s head jerked to the side and he saw Gunn standing a few feet away in what could only be described as a submissive posture, palms up and out, one foot turned in anticipation of retreat, dark eyes wide. 

Oh, bloody hell…  Spike tossed his clipboard onto the counter.  “’M fine.  Jus’ got a lot on my mind is all.”

Gunn visibly relaxed and turned to lean against the bar.  “Woman trouble?”

Spike arched an eyebrow at him, amused that his friend thought he could so easily be picked apart.  Of course, the sodding bastard was right, but Spike wasn’t about to admit that.

“Trouble is relative just like anythin’ else, Charlie-boy.”

“Not when it’s about a girl, it ain’t.  That kind of trouble is unique to the world of females,” Gunn said with a knowing smirk.  “Look, I’m no Casanova and I’m certainly no expert, but, uh, if you ever wanna, you know, uh, talk about it…”

It the weeks following Buffy’s birthday, she had grown increasingly determined to go back to school.  She brought it up it daily, always with a hopeful tone, that maybe tomorrow she could get her life back on track.  The girl was extraordinary, but her aspirations were as normal as any other person her age: finish high school, go to college and start a career.  She talked about taking her SATs and ACTs and applying to UNLV.  Her future was mapped perfectly in her mind and all she needed was help with that first step.  But for his part, Spike was useless.  More than, if truth be told, because he couldn’t even manage to offer up encouragement.

He’d wracked his brain for a solution.  It kept him up at night, worrying about her and her future and of the slowly retreating threat of her father.  How could she possibly enroll in school if she was a runaway, whether Hank Summers was looking for her or not? She was living with a man who was neither her parent nor her legal guardian and she was still technically a minor.  They could file a motion with the court to get her emancipated, but that would reveal her location, and while the facts all pointed to her father not being interested in finding her, Spike had a feeling in his gut that said otherwise.  He thought for a second that they could just get some fake documents, but that idea was quickly nixed when he envisioned what would happen if they got caught.

All of that aside, there was an answer to this problem, one that made perfect sense.   She should just wait another year.  She would be eighteen then, a legal adult, free to do as she pleased.  If her father came after her, the law would be on their side.  But that answer would create another problem and Spike wasn’t sure he wanted to add that to the equation.  He knew Buffy.  He knew that she wouldn’t want to wait that long, that she would be miserable, that she would start to feel like he was trying to keep her under his thumb. 

Which is exactly why he had put off telling her.

He sighed heavily and slapped a hand over his face, rubbing away the tension.  “She wants to go back to school and I don’t know how to tell her she can’t,” Spike said.

“Oh.”  Gunn’s eyebrows knitted together, suggesting that he had thought to subject of Spike’s problem was something else.  “Have you guys thought about having her take the high school equivalency exam?  I know it’s not school, but she can study for it now and then take it right when she turns eighteen without parental consent.”

No, he hadn’t thought of that, but it was a bloody brilliant idea.

“And they let you go to college with it?” Spike asked.

“Hell yeah.  I mean, she probably wouldn’t be able to get into Harvard or anything with it, but a state school, no problem.”

 

 

***

 

 

Inventory days were the worst.  On a normal work day, Spike usually sauntered in the door by three in the morning, but on inventory days it was closer to six.  Since Buffy had acquired the rather bad habit of waiting up for him, she resolved herself to a very long night which should have culminated with a big breakfast and some lazy lovemaking.  But six o’clock came and went.  By seven, breakfast was ice cold and her eyes began to droop.  By eight, she had all but fallen asleep when Scrappy woke her up to go outside.  By nine, she was back on the couch and snoring with the puppy curled up next to her.

It was a quarter to ten when she heard the keys finally jingling against the door. 

Buffy quickly shot upward, her hands immediately flying to her hair which she tried desperately to smooth.  She probably looked horrible, clothes askew, skin dull, hair sticking out like a mad scientist’s.  Stupid inventory day. 

The door opened and the dog scampered off the couch to greet Spike as he walked in. 

“Hey pet,” Spike said cheerfully before dropping a handful of shopping bags onto the floor.  “Did you just wake up?”

She blushed, she couldn’t help it.  “Yeah.  I couldn’t stay awake any longer.”

“Don’t have to wait up for me, luv.”

“I know,” she replied with a timid shrug.  “It’s just…  I like seeing you when you first get home.”

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.  Well, Buffy couldn’t comment on what Spike felt in his heart, but when he came home after work other parts of him were sure happy to see her.  It was like Christmas every day, seeing the expression on his face, the lust in his eyes and impatience in his strides to get to her.  Besides, even if he didn’t set her body on fire with a single look, it sure was nice to have someone excited to see her.  Before Spike, there hadn’t been anyone who cared, not since her mom and Giles.  Having a person who loved her was like a drug she couldn’t get enough of and she would do a lot more than lose a few hours of sleep to get to experience that every day.

Spike chuckled.  “Oh yes, I am a regular prize after coming home from hours in that bloody slop house.”

“Not a regular one.  An extra big, giganto, sparkly prize with ribbons and chocolate frosting.”

He smirked then bit his lower lip and gazed at her from below a canopy of dark eyelashes.  “We could definitely work in the chocolate frosting.”  He started towards the couch, rounding it effortlessly before sitting down next to her.  “Or some other flavor.  I’m partial to raspberry cream myself.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Is that all you ever think about?”

“What?  Food?”  Spike shook his head.  “Nope, I also think about you an’ that luscious body o’ yours.”

Without another word, he grabbed her and lifted her up so he could lay her down on the soft cushions of the couch.  Her thighs parted unconsciously to accommodate his hips which pressed into her, against her.  He whispered her name just before capturing her lips in a hot, wet kiss.

“Oh, Spike.  Please,” she whimpered as she felt the hard ridge of his cock rub the sensitive button of nerves covered by her flimsy pajamas.

Then suddenly he was gone.  Her eyes flew open and caught sight of him standing a few feet away, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He wagged a finger at her and let out a shaky laugh.  “You little minx.  Always distractin’ me.  I had a sodding plan, you know.”

“Plan?  Plan for what?”

His eyebrows went up and he motioned for her to wait a second.  He walked back to the front door and picked up the shopping bags, bringing them back to the couch and unloading their contents onto the coffee table.  Books and pamphlets and spiral-bound notebooks and packages of pencils and index cards, it looked like he had raided a classroom.

“Been tryin’ to figure out a way for you to go back to school and it might not exactly what you had in mind, but I think this’ll work,” he told her, handing her a pamphlet.

Buffy looked down at the flyer.  “Getting your GED in Nevada.  A guide to completing the high school equivalency exam,” she read aloud. 

She frowned.  No, this wasn’t what she had in mind at all.  It was a good idea but…   She was trying really hard not to be disappointed.  Her wanting to go back to school was only partly for the diploma.  There were so many things that she was missing out on.  Friends her own age, dances, pep rallies, those things couldn’t be experienced with a GED. 

Her eyes moved from the pamphlet to Spike’s face, which had half-fallen from excitement to trepidation, no doubt from the look on her own face.  And she had never felt like a bigger asshole.

“Spike, I-“  She didn’t even know what to say.  Nothing sounded right and she’d tried on a few replies in the privacy of her head just to make sure.  “It’s a really good idea.”

“But.  You’re forgetting that part, luv,” he said, all the joy now completely gone from his expression. 

Buffy swallowed the lump in her throat.  “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”  He stood up and began pacing the floor.  His hand dove into his perfectly slicked back hair, ripping a path through the hardened gel and freeing the curls he tried so hard to tame.  “I’m bloody sorry that you can’t have a normal life, Buffy.  I’m sorry that I can’t bring back your mum and Rupert.  I’m sorry that you had to live with that git of a father and that I couldn’t keep you safe from him.  I’m sorry that you can’t go back to school an’ play footsie with some jock under the bleachers.  I’m sorry that you can’t listen to the teacher drone on about manifest destiny and The New Deal.  I’m sorry you’re stuck in the fucking apartment all day when you could be learnin’ and socializin’ and bein’ a bloody teenager!”

Tears started to well up in her eyes.  “I know.  You have every right to be mad at me.  It’s just a stupid dream.  It’s not important.”

Spike froze.  “I’m not mad at you.  Pet, I’m mad for you.”

“For me?”

He kneeled down in front of her, capturing her tiny hands in his, and gazed up at her.  “Yeah, for you.  If anyone in this world deserved a normal life, it’s you.  Never met anyone who deserved it more.  But, luv, it’s just not meant to be.  Pisses me off that it has to be that way, that I can’t fix it.  So, yeah, I’m angry.  I’m angry that you got dealt such a shitty hand, but we just gotta play it through, yeah?  It’s not a perfect solution, but doin’ this is how we stay in the game.”

Her resolve began to firm up from the gelatin mess it had become after reading that pamphlet moments ago.  Spike was right.  Her life wasn’t and wouldn’t ever be normal again.  Normal flew the coop when her parents died, but she couldn’t give up fighting just because things weren’t peachy-keen perfect.  Besides, high school was overrated.  If it hadn’t been for the reprieve she got from her father’s temper by going, she would have been miserable.  She hated the kids, had no friends to speak of and was bored to tears by the curriculum.

Wait.  Why had she wanted to go back to school?  She must have been out of her mind.

Except she knew that there was some small, tiny part of her that longed to know what she was missing now.  She could at least admit that without shame.

Her hand moved to trace the glossy cover of one of the books on the table and then she picked it up.  She leafed through it, her eyes crossing slightly when they spied a section of complicated-looking mathematical equations.

She squinted up at Spike.  “This looks hard.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to figure it out on my own.”

“Thought of that, too,” he said with a soft smile.  “Anya might be a bloody loon but she’s brilliant at math.  I can help with the English and the social studies.  And the science…we’ll figure out later.”

“Do you really think I can pass it?”

He brushed his thumb against her bottom lip then leaned up to kiss her.  “Buffy, I think you can do anything.”

 

 

***

 

 

Three Days Later

Wolfram and Hart, Los Angeles, CA

 

Lindsay threw his black leather portfolio across the smooth mahogany surface of his desk and slammed the door to his office shut. 

This was such horseshit!

A month ago he’d been the golden goose, fawned over and adored by the senior partners.  He’d been Hank Summers’ right hand man, picked out personally to handle his daughter’s disappearance.  He’d been on his way up to the big time and now, four weeks later, he was stuck defending some pencil-pushing weenie along with a slew of junior associates all trying to make a name for themselves.  He was better than this crap.

He swallowed his anger down with the help of some JD before falling back into his Italian leather chair to mull over his recent fall from grace.   His eyes fell upon a stack of newspapers on his desk.  The LA Times, Wall Street Journal, New York Times and…  The Las Vegas Sun. 

Back when he’d first figured out that little Miss Elizabeth Summers had fled to Las Vegas, he’d ordered a subscription to the metropolitan newspaper, hoping that something might jump out at him.  Nothing had ever panned out, but it certainly had kept him in the loop while he was in LA.  After he was unceremoniously kicked off the case, he continued to browse through it, only this time it was to find out what was going on with Willie D.

Hamilton had made sure Lindsay was kept in the dark with not only the Summers case, but what the senior partners planned to do with Willie D.  Lindsay had his suspicions of course, suspicions that were quickly made fact when an article showed up on the front page of the Sun about an attempted escape by one William DeMille.  The guards had shot and killed him on the spot.

He picked up the newspaper and flipped through it until he caught sight of a tiny article towards the last page.

 

Prison Guards Cleared In Fatal Shooting

Jean, NV.  A decision was reached in the investigation of a fatal shooting that occurred on June 23 at the Southern Nevada Correctional Center.  An inmate, William DeMille, who had been serving out a six year sentence for peering into a residential apartment complex with the aid of video equipment and possession of a deadly weapon, had attempted to escape the medium security prison on the morning of the shooting.  The State of Nevada Department of Corrections cleared the prison guards of any wrongdoing in the death of DeMille, siteing that officers can use deadly force if they are attempting to stop an escape in progress.

 

There was no way in hell Willie was trying to escape.  The guy would piss in his pants if he even thought someone would point a gun at him let alone invoke a reason to get himself shot.  It stunk, the whole goddamn thing stunk to high heaven.

That sickening feeling was back in the pit of his stomach.  It was a foreign sensation, but one he had become all too familiar with in the past month.  Guilt. 

He sure had picked a fine time to grow a damn conscience.  Question was, what was he going to do about it?  He had contemplated further cementing his place in the fiery depths of Hell by ignoring it or better yet justifying his deeds.  But this had gone too far.  He got slime balls off of drug charges and racketeering and anything else if they paid enough.  He didn’t condemn them to death.  He didn’t murder because even a shady son of a bitch like him had at least one line he refused to cross.

It was too late for Willie and that would always be his cross to bear, but what about Summers’ daughter?  Lindsay wanted to believe the man had no intentions of killing his only child, but why the big secret?  Hank could have settled this months ago if he’d gotten the police involved and it wasn’t as if the asshole didn’t have a ton of cops in his pocket already.

 No, no there was something definitely off about the whole thing and he intended to find out what.

 

 

 



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