Spike held the back of her head, plundering her mouth with his tongue. She met him with equal voracity.
Spike felt her nails scratch a pattern across his shoulders as she ground her pelvis against his. Spike's erection was throbbing painfully under his boxers.
Bringing one hand down, Spike cupped her naked breast, fingering her pebble-like nipples as they continued to kiss. He heard her groan, electrifying his own sensations. Eyes closed, Spike kissed and licked down her neck to her breast, suckling it.
Pushing her down on the bed, Spike continued his way down her body, removing her panties and finding her center with his tongue.
The muskiness of her scent almost overwhelmed Spike as she writhed on the bed under his mouth. Licking his way back up, Spike shed his boxers and entered her tight passage swiftly.
Thrusting in and out, Spike sought his lover's mouth once more. He felt her coming close to a climax and sped up the pace. She ripped her mouth away, keening in his ear as she climaxed. Spike felt her vaginal muscles clenching around his shaft, and he was sent over the edge. He moved back far enough to see her face and cried out her name as he came.
The dreams were becoming more and more frequent. Barely a day passed when he didn't wake up panting, his sheets soaking from sweat and cum. And when he didn't have erotic ones, he had tender, loving dreams involving Buffy.
Spike couldn't understand what was causing the dreams. He hadn't seen the Slayer in years, not since that fateful night he paired with her to defeat Angelus. As agreed, Spike took Drucilla out of the country, going north to Canada.
Drucilla was gone, now, after a failed attempt to retrieve Angelus from Hell. Word had filtered through the vampire community that the Slayer had succeeded in closing Acathala and defeating Angelus, sending him to Hell on the point of her sword.
News had also spread of another Slayer in Sunnydale. She was rumored to be as tough as Buffy, and the two, when together, sent vampires running in terror.
Shutting off the shower, Spike quickly dried himself off and dressed. Stripping the sheets from his bed, he added them to the rapidly growing pile on the floor. He glanced at the clock, then made his way into the main part of his small, one bedroom apartment. Opening the fridge, he grabbed a packet of blood and quickly fed.
Spike had taken to raiding the blood banks for food in the small, picturesque town where he found himself living. A combination of weariness and actual displeasure from taking victims changed his ways. It was less tiresome this way.
Putting on his duster, Spike opened the door and stepped out into the night. He let his mind go blank as he wandered the streets, cigarette in hand. Before he knew it, he was at his favorite place - the movie theater.
Paying the cashier, Spike ground out his cigarette and went inside the brightly lit movie house. It was ornately decorated, carefully restored to its former glory by the owners. Red carpeting covered the floor, chandeliers hung suspended from gold chains, and velvet ropes separated the lines for the concession stand.
Spike walked into the semi-lit theater and took his accustomed spot. Practically the entire staff knew him and made sure his seat was always vacant. It helped that he tipped them each time he came to see a show.
Settling into the plush, velvet chair, Spike propped his feet on the seat in front of him and listened to the music filtering down through the speakers. He still couldn't shake the dream from his mind.
Spike was pleased when the lights went out and the previews started. Coming de-tractions, as he liked to call them. Ten minutes later the opening music and credits started, allowing Spike to immerse himself into the fantasy played out before him on the screen.
When the lights came on in the theater, Spike stood and made his way slowly up the aisle, touching each seat as he passed. Walking into the starry night, Spike took a deep breath of the crisp air. He turned and started toward his apartment. He watched as couples passed by him, hand in hand, sometimes kissing or laughing at a private joke. He looked into the window of the local ice cream shop, sighing to himself as a couple fed each other.
*I'm getting maudlin,* Spike thought as an elderly couple strolled by on their nightly walk. He passed a newsstand and paused, headlines catching his eye. Picking up a paper, he read the article quickly. His eyes widened in shock and something akin to pain. Turning, he threw the paper back onto the pile and ran off into the night.
Sunnydale - home to all things that go bump in the night.
Spike pulled his black car into the driveway of the mansion, parking behind the building. Stepping from the car, Spike took notice of the large machinery littering the lawn. He took out a cigarette and lit it. Leaning against the door of the car, Spike inhaled, letting the smoke curl into his dead lungs.
The mansion hadn't changed over the years. It still looked as abandoned and decrepit as it did when Spike, Drucilla and Angelus had made it their home. Taking one more drag off of his cigarette, Spike stamped it out then walked into the building.
He noticed the large burn pattern on the floor first. After pausing to look thoughtfully at it for a moment, Spike walked around it and continued towards his destination.
Upon entering Drucilla's old bedroom, Spike stopped and surveyed the mess before him. Dolls lay broken on the floor. A trunk lay on its side, its contents scattered. Carefully moving to the broken pile of porcelain, Spike squatted and began to shift through the debris.
When he found what he had come for, Spike stood, took one last look at the contents of the room, then left.
He didn't get far.
Voices drifted up from the main hall, and Spike hugged the shadows clutching his prize to his chest. Slowly making his way downstairs, Spike found a place to hide and observe what was happening.
"We'll try to scrub it off first," Buffy said, setting her bucket and wire brush on the floor. "If that doesn't work, we'll just paint over it."
"I don't get why we're doing this," Xander said, dropping several cans of paint with a noisy clatter. "They're destroying the building anyway."
"From what Willow was able to find out, no one has been inside yet," Buffy said. "And we don't want the pathetic excuse for a police force starting a murder investigation from this mark."
"People think this mansion's haunted," Willow said as she filled a bucket with turpentine. "They say that a 'wild man' was seen coming and going from here, blood pouring from his mouth." She giggled.
Buffy chuckled. "I don't think Angel could ever be considered a 'wild man.' He broods too much."
"How's he doing anyway?" Willow asked.
"Good, I guess," Buffy shrugged. "I haven't received a letter in awhile."
"Cordy says he's driving her crazy," Xander said, scrubbing at the mark on the floor. "But she says that about everyone."
"Last time I got e-mail, Angel was complaining that Cordelia threw out half of his clothes and replaced them with stuff she picked out," Willow said. "He was really pissed off."
Spike stood observing the trio as they worked. *She looks wonderful,* he thought as he watched Buffy. Still the same, perky blond that he remembered, although he could see shadows under her eyes.
Several hours and coats of paint later, Spike watched as the three friends gathered up their supplies and left. He made his way into the main hall and stopped once again in front of the mark on the floor. He didn't hear her approach.
"I really don't want black footprints all over, so can we move this outside," Buffy's confident voice said from behind him. Spike's body tightened, not in fear or preparation for a fight, but in desire.
"I haven't got all night," Buffy said, looking at the back of the brown-haired figure standing before her. "Some of us have classes in the morning, not to mention a long training session."
Spike took a deep, unneeded breath, then slowly turned to face the woman of his dreams.
"Spike!" Buffy gasped, stumbling back a few steps in surprise.
One side of Spike's mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. "Hello, cutie."
Buffy's eyes were so wide, Spike had to laugh. "Any moment now I swear your eyes are gonna pop out of your head," he said.
Buffy clamped her open mouth shut and narrowed those same eyes. "What are you doing here? Where's Drusilla?" she asked, looking around for the female vamp. "And what happened to your hair?"
Spike's laughter echoed off the walls, full and rich. His sides started to hurt from laughing so hard.
Buffy folded her arms across her chest and tapped one foot. "And your laughing because...?"
"Sorry, luv," Spike said, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes. He looked at Buffy's pose and her scowling face and burst out laughing again.
Buffy threw her arms in the air. "Aargh! Why do you insist on sending me lunatic vampires?"
"Ok, ok, ok," Spike said, finally calming down. "What did you want to know?"
"Why are you here?" Buffy replied.
Spike noticed that she wasn't standing in a defensive position, but knew she could produce a stake from thin air. "I read that the mansion was going to be destroyed," he answered.
"And you felt necessary to return why?" Buffy said.
"I wanted to get something," Spike said.
"None of your business."
Buffy sighed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Fine. Where's Drusilla?"
"Gone," Spike answered.
"Gone? Gone where? Shopping?"
"Gone as in dead," Spike said. He couldn't help the tinge of sadness in his voice. "Four years now."
"Sorry," Buffy said.
Spike nodded and looked down at the object in his hand.
"Why'dja come back then?" Buffy asked.
"For this," he said, holding up a still intact Miss Edith. "I couldn't let it be destroyed."
Buffy walked up to Spike and laid a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. Spike looked into her eyes and noticed that they showed a maturity few reached even in their golden years. He also saw understanding and sympathy in them. Unconsciously, Spike leaned forward and placed a kiss on her brow.
Buffy backed away from him quickly as Spike realized what he had just done. He closed his eyes and waited for the stake to end his long life. When he didn't feel anything, he opened his eyes and looked cautiously at Buffy.
"You never did tell me what happened to your hair," she said.
Spike sighed in relief, then smiled, running one hand through his brown locks. "No one to help me, luv," he answered. "And the shops aren't open past six where I live." He gestured to the black paint mark on the floor. "What happened here?"
"Angel," was all Buffy answered.
Spike nodded in understanding. The two enemies stood in silence, each deep in their own thoughts.
"You want me to do it?" Buffy asked, breaking the silence.
"Your hair," Buffy said. "I owe you one."
Spike stared at her for several moments, then nodded. "All right, ducks."
Spike swore under his breath as he stood in Buffy's bathroom. He watched her in the mirror as she moved, setting up the peroxide and other supplies. His body was reacting to her nearness, causing Spike to shift uncomfortably. He hoped Buffy wouldn't notice.
"Ok. Sit here," Buffy said, patting a chair in front of the sink. Spike sat where she indicated, inhaling the smell of her. He heard Buffy laugh in his ear.
"What are you laughing at?" he asked, looking up at her.
Buffy gestured to the mirror. Facing forward, Spike saw the chair, all the supplies and Buffy reflecting back. But no him. "This is going to look so weird," she said.
Picking up a pair of scissors, Buffy wrapped a towel around his bare shoulders and began cutting.
"You have soft hair," Buffy said as the scissors snipped. Spike saw his naturally wavy hair fall onto the ground.
"Where's your mum?" Spike asked as cold water was sprayed into his hair from a squirt bottle.
"Out on a date with Giles," Buffy answered. She smiled at him in the mirror. "This makes it number 50."
"You've been keeping count," Spike chuckled.
"Yup." Snip, snip. "I think it's great."
Buffy moved in front of him. Her breasts were even with his eyes and Spike inhaled sharply, his semi-erection becoming a full hard on.
"You ok?" Buffy asked. "I didn't nick you, did I?"
"I'm fine," Spike lied, watching as Buffy's breasts swayed under her tank top as she moved. He almost groaned when she turned away to retrieve the peroxide bottle.
"Turn the chair around and lean back against the sink," Buffy instructed.
Spike did as told, careful to keep his throbbing erection hidden from her. He grabbed another towel from the bar and put it across his lap. "Don't want to ruin my pants," he said in way of explanation.
Buffy picked up the bottle and opened it. "This is gonna sting," she said.
*Good,* Spike thought. *It'll hopefully distract me.* But Spike's prayers were unanswered as Buffy leaned over him, pouring the peroxide on his hair. Spike gripped the sides of the chair to stop from grabbing her and placing one of those tantalizing breasts in his mouth. He groaned.
"Does it hurt?" Buffy asked as she worked the contents of the bottle in with gloved hands.
"You have no idea," Spike said through clenched teeth. But he wasn't referring to the peroxide.
"There," Buffy said, tossing the now empty bottle in the trash. "Now, we wait."
Spike didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and ground his teeth.
"Way cool," Buffy said next to his ear.
Spike opened one eye and saw her leaning over the sink. "What?"
"Your cut hair reflects in the mirror," Buffy said, showing him a brown lock. "Yet you don't. Not even the towel around your shoulders."
"Mmm," Spike answered, closing his eye once again. Under the towel on his lap, he tried to adjust himself without Buffy noticing.
"Wonder why that is?" Buffy said, more to herself than to him. "I'll have to ask Giles."
Spike could hear her cleaning up around him and it was driving him crazy. He wanted to haul Buffy onto his lap and kiss her, have her ease the ache that was slowly killing him.
He heard a door open and close, then the sound of voices from downstairs.
"Shit," Buffy said. "They're back. Stay here."
Spike watched as Buffy left the bathroom, closing the door behind her. He heard her go downstairs and greet her mom and Giles. He stood and swiftly made his way to Buffy's bedroom where he had shed his shirt and duster, shutting the door behind him.
He walked over to the window and stared out into the night, trying to get his rampaging hormones under control. He wanted a cigarette badly, but knew that if he lit up in Buffy's bedroom, the ashtray would be filled with something other than cigarette ashes.
Spike glanced at the clock on the nightstand, noting the time. Only a few hours until dawn. He heard voices come up the stairs and the bathroom door open. He sat quickly on the floor next to the bed out of sight, just in case.
"Don't worry, mom," Spike heard Buffy say as she entered her bedroom. "I'm on it."
"Good. I don't mind you giving your friend's haircuts, but please try to clean up after yourself," he heard Joyce say. "Who's is that?"
Spike grimaced as he realized Joyce was talking about his shirt and coat lying on Buffy's bed.
"Um...mine," Buffy said. "I borrowed it from Faith."
"Ok. Well, goodnight dear."
"Night, mom," Buffy said, closing the bedroom door. "Spike?"
"Over here," Spike said quietly before standing up.
"C'mon, we have to rinse your hair before your scalp burns off," Buffy said, cracking the door and peering out. She gestured to him to follow, and the vampire and the Slayer hurried into the bathroom.
After shutting the door, Buffy turned to the sink, then looked up at Spike, then back at the sink. "I don't think this is gonna work," she said. "You'll have to take a shower."
"I'll have to what?" Spike whispered.
"Take a shower to get all the peroxide out of your hair," Buffy whispered back. "I'll go get another towel while you get in."
"I'm not taking a shower with you in here, Slayer," Spike said.
"You're gonna have to," Buffy replied. "Mom has to think it's me in here, so I can't be sitting in my room, waiting for you."
Spike closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I wish a had a cigarette," he mumbled. He re-opened his eyes and looked at Buffy. "Go get the towel," he said with resignation.
Buffy nodded, turned on the shower, then left the bathroom.
Knowing he didn't have long before Buffy returned, Spike quickly shed his pants and boxers and stepped into the shower, adjusting the setting and sticking his head under the strong spray.
Grabbing the soap, he quickly washed himself and the peroxide out of his hair. Rinsing himself once more, Spike shut of the water and ran his hands over his newly blond hair, squeezing the excess water from it.
"Here," he heard from the other side of the shower door. A towel flopped over the top. Grabbing it, Spike dried off, then wrapped it around his waist and opened the door.
Buffy was sitting on the newly cleaned sink, a large smile on her face.
"And what are we smiling at?" Spike asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
Buffy looked down at his feet, then slowly brought her eyes back up, noting his strong leg muscles, the low riding towel around his taut waist, and his lean, muscled chest and arms. His body twitched in response to her perusal, causing the towel to move, but Buffy didn't notice.
When her eyes returned to his, Spike could see the appreciation of his body in her eyes. Once again, he became semi-aroused, and the towel tented slightly away from his body. This time, Buffy noticed.
"Spike?" Buffy said, looking at the obvious bulge.
Spike refused to be ashamed. He didn't move. Instead, he stared down at the blond beauty, his eyes conveying his desire.
Buffy brought her eyes back up to his and gasped. She slid off the counter and turned to the door. "C'mon."
Spike followed Buffy back to her room after grabbing his pants and boxers. She shut the door behind him and Spike tossed his clothes onto the bed with his shirt and duster. "You might want to turn around," Spike said, facing away from Buffy. He waited a moment, then let the towel around his waist drop to the floor. He quickly stepped into his boxers, regretting the fact that he'd worn silk. The fabric rubbed erotically against his erection, causing it to jump.
Spike groaned and ran his hand through his hair. It was sticking up in disarray from his toweling it dry. He glanced over his shoulder as he grabbed his pants from the bed.
Buffy was staring at him, mouth slightly open, eyes hungry with desire.
Spike couldn't take it anymore. With a swear, he turned and grabbed Buffy, bringing her flush against his body. Buffy started to struggle, but stopped as Spike began to kiss her with not only passion, but tenderness as well.
Pulling back to allow Buffy to catch her breath, Spike whispered in her ear. "I've been having these...dreams about you," he said. He ran his hands lightly over her shoulders. "Very erotic dreams."
He barely heard Buffy's whispered reply. Spike's eyes widened and he looked down at the woman in his arms. He could see the truth, longing and slight embarrassment reflecting back at him.
Spike picked Buffy up into his arms and brought her to the bed. Laying her gently upon it, he swept the stuffed animals and his clothes onto the floor. Spike then laid next to her, head propped on one hand, and ran a long pale finger along her cheek and jaw before leaning forward and capturing her mouth with his.
Their tongues entwined, dueling with passion and forbidden desire. Spike brought his free hand down under Buffy's shirt, cupping her full breast with his cool hand. He felt Buffy arch her back, thrusting herself into his hand.
Spike broke away from Buffy's mouth and began a fiery trail down her jaw, her neck and onto her shoulder. He tugged at the bottom of her tank top, and Buffy helped Spike remove it and her bra.
Spike's erection moved against her leg as he gazed at Buffy's new, yet familiar breasts. He continued his administrations, kissing from her shoulder down between her heavy breasts. Spike moved to the left one, licking and kissing the nipple that had peaked. With his other hand, he pinched and teased the other one as Buffy arched her back again, holding Spike's head in her hands.
Spike switched to the other breast, giving it just as much attention as the first one until Buffy began to move her hips. He sat up slightly and unbuttoned her pants, removing them and her panties. Spike let his eyes run slowly down her form, knowing it intimately from his dreams, yet seeing it for the first time.
He felt Buffy's hands on him, tracing erotic patterns with her fingers along his chest. Spike brought his head down, capturing her lips once more as his fingers sought her womanhood. He flicked the nub of her clitoris, causing Buffy to jump. Pressing his thumb to it, he pushed first one finger, then two into Buffy's silken folds.
Buffy groaned deep in her throat as Spike thrust his fingers in and out, rubbing her with his thumb at the same time. He felt her scratching his back and shoulders with her nails as she came closer to the edge. Buffy bucked under his hand as she climaxed, trying desperately to get away from the sweat pain he was causing. Holding her down, Spike replaced his hand with his mouth, licking and sucking her juices as she climaxed a second time almost immediately.
Spike pulled back, letting Buffy calm down, and shed his own boxers. Then he moved over her, spreading her legs with his knee. Buffy opened up to him, wrapping her legs and arms around him. Spike put one arm behind her back and used the other to guide himself into her.
"Ohhh," Spike moaned as Buffy's hot, wet vagina surrounded his pulsating erection. He bent forward, his weight resting on his free arm, and kissed her passionately. After he was sure he wasn't going to climax right then and there, Spike began to move in the age old rhythm, holding Buffy close with his arm behind her back.
Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, Buffy climaxed yet again, her muscles clenching and unclenching around his thick shaft. Spike literally saw stars as his own climax gripped him, causing him to thrust into Buffy as far as he could.
Spike's undead heart was pounding in his chest and sweat coated both their bodies as they lay entwined, waiting to come down from climatic highs. Spike reluctantly pulled out of Buffy, then turned onto his back, bringing her into the crook of his arm.
Buffy snuggled into him and sighed contently. Spike could feel her warm breath on his chest and tightened his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head, his mind whirling with the implications of what just happened. Glancing over at the clock, his eyes widened at the time.
"Buffy," Spike whispered, running a finger up and down her arm.
"Hmmm?" Buffy purred at him. She looked up and blinked sleepily.
"It's almost dawn," Spike said. "I have to go."
Buffy shook her head no, then slowly crawled over him and stood. She lowered the shade, then closed the dark curtains. Turning back to face him, she smiled. "I put these in a few months ago, just in case."
Spike beckoned to her and Buffy came willingly. The two lovers got under the covers and, for the first time in months, drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
Spike woke briefly the next morning as Buffy left the bed. He watched as she moved around the room, getting dressed. She smiled when she saw him watching.
"Hi," she said shyly.
"Hi back," Spike responded, smiling. "Where are you off to?"
"School," Buffy answered, putting on her boots. "I have two classes this morning, then training with Faith and Giles after lunch."
Spike nodded and stretched. He saw Buffy lick her lips. He grinned.
"I'm going to pile a bunch of stuff on the bed to hide that you're sleeping in here," Buffy said, pulling the covers to his chin. She began to throw clothes, pillows and stuffed animals on to her side of the bed, a few landing on top of Spike. "That should work. Try not to move around too much."
Spike chuckled. "I'll pretend I'm dead."
Buffy groaned at the bad pun, then kissed him. "I gotta go. Do you want anything before I leave?"
"A nice roll in the hay would be nice," Spike said with a wicked smile. "But since you have to go, could you bring back some packets of blood? They're some out in my car in the cooler. Keys are in the pocket of my trousers."
Buffy arched an eyebrow at his request.
"I haven't fed off of anyone in awhile now, pet," Spike said by way of explanation. "Too much of a hassle."
Spike didn't think anyone could smile as brightly as Buffy did at that moment.
Spike awoke only one time during the day, when Buffy's mom opened the bedroom door, then commented on the mess as she put a load of clean laundry on the desk before leaving once again.
Around 4:00, Spike got out of bed and dressed. He then proceeded to clean up the mess Buffy had made to hide him from prying eyes. Hunger gnawed at his stomach as he worked.
When he was finished, Spike sat down on the bed. Leaning against pillows he propped up, he began to read one of the books he found on the bookshelf.
Buffy found him like that two hours later.
"Hey," Buffy said, tossing her backpack on the floor. She collapsed on the bed next to him, face first, looking like a person who forgot to strap a parachute on when they leapt from the plane.
"Hard day?" Spike asked, holding his place in the book with his finger.
"Mmprh ehiosd," Buffy's muffled voice said to him.
Spike chuckled. "That good, eh?"
"I swear that girl gets off on pummeling me," Buffy said, sitting up and retrieving her bag. She pulled out several packets of blood and tossed them to Spike.
"Who?" Spike asked, looking for a bookmark.
"Faith...the other Slayer," Buffy said, pulling her text books from the bag.
Spike gave up and set the book face down on his lap. Picking up the blood, Spike let his face transform into its normal state and fed quickly.
Buffy stopped what she was doing and looked at him. She giggled. "That looks really silly."
Spike dropped the empty packet into the trash can next to the bed as he growled at her, his gold eyes flashing.
Spike dropped the human mask back over his features, then scowled at her. "You're too kind."
Buffy crawled up to him across the bed and kissed him. Spike responded enthusiastically, tangling his hands in her hair.
"Hey B. Your mom said I could come on up," Faith said as she opened the door and entered the bedroom. "Whoa! My bad!"
Buffy broke the kiss quickly and scrambled to the other end of the bed. "Faith!"
Spike frowned at the intrusion.
"Who's the hottie?" Faith asked, unabashed at her own forwardness.
"Um...," Buffy mumbled.
"I'm William," Spike answered for Buffy. He carefully shifted to allow the two packets of blood still on his lap to fall between his legs so Faith wouldn't see them.
"Hey. I'm Faith," Faith said, nodding her head. She turned to Buffy. "How long has this been going on? Details, girl."
Buffy blushed bright red. "We're old...friends," she said, looking at Spike.
"Friends, huh?" Faith said, her expression showing she didn't believe a word.
Spike smiled evilly at her. "Me an 'er go way back, we do," Spike said, thickening his North London accent.
Faith arched her eyebrow skeptically.
"What brings you here, Faith?" Buffy asked, with hope to change the subject in her voice.
"Giles said to give this to you," Faith answered, handing Buffy a book. Spike leaned over and snatched it from her hands.
"Er...thanks," Buffy said, trying to grab the book back from Spike.
"Tut, tut, Slayer," Spike said, holding the book above his head. "None of that now."
"He knows you're a Slayer?" Faith said. "Is there anyone who doesn't know?"
"The President doesn't," Buffy said as she gave up on getting the book away from Spike. "But I have my doubts about that, too."
Spike opened the book and found it was on dreams. He gave Buffy a leer, then flipped through the book, looking for the section on erotic ones.
Buffy groaned. "C'mon, Faith. Let's go patrol, then head over to the Bronze."
"What about William?" Faith asked.
"He's not important," Buffy answered.
"Hey!" Spike said. Buffy laughed at his wounded expression.
"Just kidding, Spik-er-William," Buffy said. "Meet us at the Bronze say around 10?"
"You sure you want me there?" Spike asked, hinting about Willow and Xander.
"Why not live dangerously for once," Buffy said with a smile.
Spike chuckled. "Me in all my blondness will be there," he said.
As soon as the sun set, Spike went out to his car and got a change of clothes. Buffy's mom had gone out again, so Spike had the house to himself. He took another shower and used Buffy's brush on his hair. Decades of practice enabled him to style it without a mirror.
Foregoing his duster, Spike left the house dressed in a black T-shirt, black jeans and his favorite boots. He felt better than he had in a long time.
Whistling under his breath, Spike entered the dimly lit club. Several teenaged girls immediately checked him out. Spike smiled seductively at them, and they giggled and hid behind their hands. Chuckling, Spike walked further into the Bronze, seeking out the woman of his dreams.
"Hey, Blondie," he heard a familiar voice say from behind him.
Spike turned with a smile on his face. "Thanks to you," he said, gathering Buffy into his arms and kissing her.
"Mmm," Buffy said, leaning into him. "Nice."
"If you say so, pet," Spike said.
Buffy laughed lightly and tugged him onto the crowded dance floor. They danced together for several songs before Buffy dragged Spike to an empty table.
"You want something?" Spike asked, gesturing to the bar.
"Frappachino," Buffy answered. Spike nodded and left, weaving his way to get her drink.
While he was waiting, Spike saw Xander and Willow arrive with Faith and someone he didn't know. They went right up to Buffy and sat down. Willow sat on the stranger's lap, so Spike surmised he was the redhead's boyfriend.
The drink came and Spike paid for it, but didn't move. For the first time in his long life, he was unsure of what to do.
After what seemed like forever, but was actually only a few minutes, Willow and her boyfriend went out on to the dance floor. Spike saw Buffy whisper to Faith, then watched as Faith pulled Xander into the crowd of dancers.
Spike sighed with relief and made his way back to the table, handing Buffy the now cold beverage. "Sorry. I wasn't sure what to do when I saw the others show up."
Buffy nodded, taking a sip, then making a face. "I'm glad you stayed away. I'm not sure how I'm going to tell Willow and Xander about...whatever we are."
Spike arched his eyebrow at her. "'Whatever we are'?"
"Yeah. Are we boyfriend-girlfriend? Just friends?"
"How 'bout lovers?" Spike said.
Buffy almost spit out the sip of drink she took. "Noo...I don't think we can tell them that."
"Why not? It's the truth," Spike said.
"But is that all we are?" Buffy asked weakly.
Spike looked at the woman sitting across from him. A slightly sad expression marred her beautiful face. Spike reached out and tipped her chin up. "You're the woman of my dreams," he said quietly. He wasn't just referring to the erotic ones.
Buffy face lit up with a smile, and she jumped off her stool and into his lap. Wrapping her arms around him, Buffy kissed Spike deeply.
"Are we interrupting?" Spike heard Faith's sarcastic voice. He broke off the kiss, and looked Buffy in the eyes, forehead to forehead.
"Ready, love?" Spike whispered.
"Ready," Buffy answered. She turned around on his lap to face her friends. "Hey guys!"
Xander and Willow's mouth dropped open when they saw Spike. They both whipped out crosses. Spike flinched.
"Buffy! You're...he...Spike!" Willow sputtered, hiding slightly behind Oz.
"What she said!" Xander said, waving his cross.
Spike growled and Buffy laughed, putting a hand on his chest.
"What are you guys wiggin for?" Faith asked, taking a seat.
"That's Spike!" Willow said, as if that explained everything.
"Who him?" Faith said, gesturing to the vampire in question. "I thought his name was William."
"It is," Buffy answered. "But he also likes to be called Spike."
"Yeah...cuz he liked to kill people with railroad Spikes," Willow said, then she ducked her head.
"Do it one time almost 100 years ago and have it haunt you for eternity," Spike said with fake exasperation.
Buffy laughed and the others looked both scared and puzzled.
"100 years ago?" Faith asked, clearly confused.
"He's a vamp," Xander said. "A bloodsucking dead boy."
"No way!" Faith said, eyes widening.
"But I'm not getting any vibes from him," Faith said.
Buffy scrunched her brow, then looked at Spike. "You know what? I'm not either."
"As much as I'd love to stay and chat," Xander said. "I'd prefer not to be dinner."
"You know, love, he's almost annoying enough to make me change my feeding habits again," Spike said to Buffy.
Xander blanched and Buffy laughed.
"He's kidding, Xander," Buffy said.
"Am I?" Spike said with an evil smile. He laughed when Xander practically jumped out of his skin.
"Spike, behave," Buffy said. Spike, with surprise to the others who knew him, smiled lovingly at Buffy and stopped taunting Xander.
Spike listened quietly as Buffy and her friends discussed him, only answering when questioned directly. The Bronze was closing before her friends reluctantly left.
Standing, Spike took Buffy's hand and they walked slowly to her house.
"They're going to tell Giles, Cordelia and Angel," Buffy told him.
Spike nodded, then suddenly stopped. "Angel?"
"I bet Willow will e-mail or call him tonight," Buffy answered.
"Angel as in Angelus?" Spike said.
Buffy nodded and Spike paled, which was strange to see on a vampire.
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked as they continued walking.
Spike shook his head, his mind racing. He knew that once Angel heard that he was with Buffy, he'd be as good as dust. Angel had gone to hell and back, and Spike doubted that he'd be as strong as Angel had to have been to perform that feat.
"Are you coming in?" Buffy asked.
Spike knew this was probably the last time he would see her. Hauling Buffy against him, Spike kissed her feverishly.
Soon, they were in Buffy's bedroom behind locked doors. Spike worshipped her body, pouring all is emotions into each touch.
Spike gave himself to Buffy that night, like he did long ago with the only other woman to capture his heart.
As soon as Buffy drifted off to sleep, Spike rose and quickly dressed. He stood for several minutes, staring down at her peaceful face.
"Good-bye," Spike whispered, kissing his fingers and pressing them to Buffy's forehead. He walked to the door, then paused, looking back. Moonlight spilled from the window, bathing Buffy in its light.
"I love you," he whispered. Then he opened the door and left.
Spike went back home, his heart aching. He had to stop for the day during the trip, feeding from the contents of his cooler.
Arriving at his apartment, Spike let himself in, setting his bag and cooler on the small kitchen table. He fed first, then unpacked, putting Miss Edith in his trunk full of other momentos he had obtained over the years.
Grabbing a roll of quarters, Spike took his dirty laundry to the basement. He pulled out the book he had been reading at Buffy's from his pocket and sat, waiting to change the loads.
Spike slammed the books shut when he realized he'd read the same line over and over. Pulling out a cigarette, Spike lit it and leaned back in his chair, feet up on the dryer. *It would have been better if I'd attacked her,* Spike thought as he blew smoke rings.
He sat like that for several hours, chain-smoking, only moving to change the laundry. When everything was dry, he went back to his apartment and neatly put everything away. Once done, Spike grew quickly restless. It was too late to go see a movie, so Spike popped a video in the VCR and stared blankly at the screen.
Months passed in similar fashion. Nights passed slowly, with Spike either at the movies or in front of his television. Days were spent in fitful sleep as Spike dreamed of Buffy.
Spike had just awoke from one of those very dreams to a banging on his apartment door. The few friends he had in town sometimes came by, but he hadn't seen them since his foray to Sunnydale. He'd only talked to them over the phone. Glancing at his clock, he noticed it was well passed the time he normally rose.
"Hold your bloody horses!" Spike yelled, throwing a pair of sweats on. He walked over and opened the door. "Joe, if this is about that poker game, I'm not interest...."
Angel stood on the other side.
Spike just stood looking at his sire, holding the door with one hand.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Angel said.
"Sure, why the hell not," Spike said. He moved back to allow Angel to pass. "Come on in."
Angel entered the small apartment and looked around. "Nice."
"Gee, thanks," Spike said sarcastically. He went over to the fridge to feed, then changed his mind, not wanting to show Angel that he didn't take lives anymore. "What do you want?"
"You were always the one to rush into things," Angel said.
Spike shrugged and leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. He'd give anything for a cigarette.
"Got anything to eat? I'm starved," Angel said, gesturing to the fridge.
Spike's eyes narrowed perceptively, then he took a packet of blood from the fridge and tossed it to Angel. He didn't take one for himself.
"Buffy told me you've stopped feeding on humans," Angel said, shifting the packet from one hand to the other. "I don't believe it."
"I don't care what you believe," Spike said.
Angel laughed and tucked the blood into his pocket. "So, Spike, what do you do up here in the frozen north?"
"Just get to the bloody point, you sod," Spike said, taking up his position against the kitchen counter once again.
"I came to ask about your feelings for Buffy," Angel said after a few moments of silence.
"You heard me. Buffy's been miserable these past months, ever since you left," Angel said. "I tried to tell her that you were just using her..."
"Thanks a lot," Spike said sardonically.
"She didn't believe me anyway," Angel said. "So, because I love her and want her happy, I had Willow find you and here I am."
"Well, sorry you had to drive all this way, but if you excuse me," Spike said, gesturing to the door.
"I'm not leaving until you answer me," Angel said. "Even if I have to beat it out of you."
"You and what army?" Spike asked, not really caring that Angel could probably whip his butt.
"Just answer the question, so I can go an tell Buffy that you could care less about her," Angel said with a sneer.
"I love her, goddamnit!" Spike snapped at Angel. "Just like every other bloody male on this planet. Now get the fuck out of my apartment!"
Angel looked completely shocked at Spike’s outburst, but left as requested.
Spike was snookered. He had drunk an same amount in a keg of beer in hard liquor, by himself, in attempts to erase the pain in his heart. That was the only reason why he was wearing one of Drucilla’s old corsets and fishnet pantyhose.
The annual Rocky Horror Picture Show Fest was being held at the theater at midnight. Spike walked drunkenly along, newspaper swinging, blending into the crowd of other similarly costumed patrons.
Spike walked into the crowded theater towards his usual seat. He was amused to find a yellow reserved tape stretched across the chair. Grinning goofily, Spike ripped the tape away and sat down, resting his long, stocking covered legs out into the aisle.
Several hours later, Spike accompanied his friends to the bar, downing several Irish brews before wandering home. Newspaper open above his head, Spike started to sing "The Time Warp" in his perfect baritone. Only a few of the words were slurred.
That was how Buffy found him.
She was standing outside of his apartment building, leaning against the wall. Spike ambled up singing at the top of his lungs, wearing only a corset, stockings, boots and his duster.
"Spike?" Buffy called to him, laughter evident in her voice.
Spike stopped singing and turned towards the voice. "Who’s there? Who’s callin’ for Spike?"
Spike saw Buffy walk towards him and his eyes widened. "Not you!" he said, stumbling backwards. "Why can’t you just bloody leave me alone?! I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t do anything without your face popping up!"
Buffy took his arm and led him to the door. "Spike, you’re drunk," she said, searching his pockets for his keys.
"Am not," Spike said.
"Yes, you are," Buffy said.
"Are…enough!" Buffy said. She opened the door to Spike’s apartment and ushered the drunk vampire inside. She led him directly into the bathroom and into a cold shower, clothes and all.
Spike sputtered under the water, but couldn’t get away from Buffy’s tight grip. After five minutes, Buffy shut of the water and stripped him out of his costume, then dried him off.
Leading Spike into the bedroom, Buffy pushed him down on the bed and tucked him under the covers. "Sleep," she instructed before leaving the room.
And surprisingly, Spike did just that.
Spike didn’t know which was worse, the little men hammering in his head or the cheerful singing he heard from the other room.
Getting up, Spike threw on a pair of boxers and slowly made his way out of the bedroom and into the living room. "What’s all the bloody racket?"
"Good, you’re up!" Buffy’s cheerful voice assaulted him. Cringing, Spike made his way over to the fridge and downed several packets of blood.
"Told ya you were drunk," Buffy sing-songed from behind him.
Spike turned and growled at her, his game face still on.
Buffy only laughed.
"What are you doing here?" Spike finally asked her.
"I wanted to see you," Buffy said with a small shrug.
"Great. You’ve seen me. Now leave," Spike said, sitting down.
"Sorry, no can do," Buffy said, sitting next to him. Spike tried to move away, but she grabbed his arm, holding him still.
"Listen, pet, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but it would be better if you just left," Spike said.
Buffy shook her head. "Nope. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what I want to know."
Spike looked around for a cigarette, then dragged a hand through his hair. "What do you want to know?"
"Do you love me?"
Spike’s muscles jerked when he heard Buffy’s question. Turning to face her, he was prepared to lie, but couldn’t when he saw the love and hope in her eyes. "Yes, I do."
Buffy’s smile could have lit an entire stadium. She launched herself into his arms, spreading kisses all over his face. Spike laughed for the first time in months.
"So, what do you want to do tonight?" Spike asked the next evening. They were laying entwined on Spike’s bed after a long luxurious day of lovemaking.
Buffy stretched like a cat. "I don’t care," she answered. "What do you usually do?"
"Go see a movie, sit around and think of you, play cards, stand around and think of you, go to sleep, dream of you…" Spike said. "You see the pattern?"
Buffy laughed and soon Spike joined in, starting to tickle her. After several minutes of play, the two lovers cuddled together and drifted off into dreamless sleep. For there was no need to dream, now that they had each other.