Secrets & Lies

Buffy decided not to stop in the library before classes, wanting to take a few minutes to gather her thoughts without being subjected to Giles' scrutiny. She headed for her locker, smiling at several familiar faces while keeping an eye out for the rest of the gang. Jonathan and Larry both gave her a wide berth, so she made a mental note to catch up with them later and apologize. Or maybe she'd let Larry stay frightened of her awhile longer; she kind of liked him better that way.

Stopping at her locker, Buffy shifted her books to one arm and quickly unlocked the door. Tossing the books inside, she glanced up at the top shelf, expecting to find a pen. Instead, there sat a single red rose, its color so deep that it was almost purple.

Buffy just stared for a moment, before reaching up to pluck the flower from the shelf. A piece of paper came drifting out of the locker and fluttered to the floor. Buffy bent down to retrieve it, smiling as she held the flower under her nose to sniff its fragrance. There was only one line, written in an unfamiliar hand- all angles and sharp edges:

Treehouse, tonight- 11 o'clock.
~S

Her smile widened and a blush stole over her cheeks as she remembered their last time together in the treehouse. *Wonder what he has in mind?* She closed her eyes and let the soft petals caress her cheek, imagining Spike's fingers stroking her in its place. Just the thought of him started a tingling in her lower abdomen, making her yearn for his touch all over again.

Buffy pictured him sneaking into the school- breaking into her locker, risking the sun's fiery rays- all for the sake of one simple, romantic gesture. *I can't believe he did this; I can't believe he even THOUGHT of doing this!*

Spike kept surprising her with his complexities. Each time he did, he broke down one more barrier, dug his way into her heart a little deeper. She wondered if he was having the same doubts and fears that she'd been struggling with, or if he was sleeping peacefully, unaware of what he was doing to her.

"Buffy! There you are!"

Startled, she flung the rose and the paper into her locker, grabbed the first book she touched and slammed the door shut, trying not to look flustered as she turned around to greet Xander and Willow.

"Hey guys, what's up? I'm feeling so much better today, I can't BEGIN to tell you how much!" *Stop babbling Summers, you'll only make them suspicious.*

Xander eyed her warily, taking in her well-groomed appearance and bright smile. She seemed like her old self, but he knew from experience that she could turn on him at any given moment.

Buffy reached out and touched his arm, giving him an apologetic look. "Xander, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I don't know what came over me. Can we chalk it up to some big, bad, Hellmouth thingy and forget it ever happened?"

She looked up at him with those eyes. *Oh god* He never could resist her when she looked at him like that. He'd long ago given up trying to fight what she did to him; it was easier to just cave and try to suppress the hard-on that he knew was inevitable. Xander rolled his eyes at her and grinned.

"I SUP-POSE I forgive you, you'd probably kick my ass if I didn't. You know, living on the Hellmouth puts a whole new spin on the concept of PMS. Remind me to thank my parents for deciding that Sunnydale was the ideal place to settle and raise children."

Buffy smiled up at him, relieved that he wasn't angry with her. Her relief was short-lived, however, as she spotted Cordelia over his shoulder. She braced herself for the fashion commentary that she knew would be coming her way.

Cordelia slid her arm around Xander's waist possessively and flashed her Miss America smile in Buffy and Willow's general direction. Her eyes raked over Buffy's attire, taking inventory before coming to rest on the scarf. Pleased to have something to criticize, Cordelia's smile widened; nothing brightened her day like a fashion victim.

"Buffy! Interesting look, that scarf is so...what's the word I'm looking for...five minutes ago?"

Buffy laughed, one hand coming up involuntarily to finger the silk at her neck. "Actually Cordelia, that's three words. And I consider my look "retro". Maybe I'll start a trend."

Cordelia sputtered in disbelief. "YOU! People like you don't start trends, people like ME start trends..."

Xander decided to cut off her tirade before she got up to full steam. "Cordy, honey! Did I tell you how great you look today? Is that a new outfit?"

Buffy threw him a grateful look as the bell rang. "I'd better run, guys! I'll catch you later, at lunch!"

She hurried off to first period, a definite bounce in her step as the other three stared after her with puzzled expressions. Xander was the first to break the silence.

"Okay, not that I'm not happy to have the old Buff back, but what the HELL is going on? Yesterday she gives me a public flogging and today she's all sweet and bubbly, begging my forgiveness. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but dammit, I'm confused!"

Cordelia gave him a comforting pat. "Xander, you're always confused, but that's not the point. Buffy tried to tell ME what's in style! THAT outfit "retro"? Give me a break!"

Willow shook her head and gave them both an exasperated look. "Something's definitely up with Buffy; she looks so happy, acting almost as if...no, that's ridiculous, it's gotta be something else."

"What, Will? What's gotta be something else?" Xander was looking at her with interest, eager to be clued in to what might be causing Buffy's erratic behavior.

"She just seems a little too cheerful today, that's all. And it's only been a few days since Angel...you know, since she..."

"Yeah well, maybe she finally decided that offing Deadboy was a "good" thing and it's giving her a major happy." The thought of Angel's death never failed to give Xander a deep down satisfied feeling.

"Maybe. She just looked so flustered when we walked up, and she's sort of, oh I don't know, glowing, I guess." She shook her head and shrugged. "Don't mind me, too many thoughts, as usual. We'd better get to class."

They headed down the hall, Xander and Cordelia both oblivious to the nagging suspicion swirling around in Willow's brain. She knew that Giles was worried about Buffy's unpredictable behavior; he had that 'look', and he'd been rubbing his forehead a lot. He'd be relieved when he saw how happy Buffy seemed today.

Willow's eyebrow furrowed in consternation. She couldn't help but think that Buffy looked like someone in love, all flushed and starry-eyed. *But that's impossible. Angel's dead, and we would have noticed if Buffy was interested in one of the boys here at school, or even at the Bronze.* Just then, Oz came around the corner smiling his sweet smile, and Willow forgot all about Buffy as she ran to meet him.

Morning smiles, like the face of a newborn child,
Innocent, unknowing
Winter's end, promises of a long lost friend
Speaks to me of comfort

Giles glanced at his watch, then back at the phone for the tenth time in fifteen minutes. *Eight hours, give or take.* She'd always been home in the afternoons, but things might have changed in the three years since he'd last spoken with her. *Three years! Has it been that long?*

He felt a pang of guilt for neglecting to keep in touch. She'd always been there for him; the least he could have done was let her know that he'd settled in Sunnydale. *No, Rupert, you only call when you need something, never to inquire about HER life.*

But I fear, I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose here in this lonely place

Making up his mind, he picked up the phone and dialed the number that was permanently etched in his brain. As he listened to the call make its way overseas, he thought about the last time he'd actually laid eyes on her- ten years earlier.

He could still see her, the sunlight glinting off of her red hair, green eyes dancing with mischief as she laughed at his hiking skills. Meredith. Willow's resemblance to her was uncanny sometimes, causing him no small amount of discomfort. He was startled out of his reverie by a male voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Did he dial correctly?

"Um, yes. Hello, may I speak to Meredith Waldman, please?"

"Whom shall I say is calling?"

"R-Rupert Giles."

"Hold a moment, please."

Giles could hear him calling to someone in the distance. "Darling? Phone for you, a Rupert Giles."

He wanted desperately to hang up and forget he ever called. Then, HER voice, sparkling and cool- like a mountain brook, flowed over him across the wire.

"Hello, Rupert is that really you?"

"Y-yes, Meredith, it's me. I'm sorry it's been so long, how are you?"

"I'm wonderful, and...I'm married. For two months now."

Giles closed his eyes for a moment, wondering at the feeling of loss. *You have no right, no right at all to be jealous. You gave up any claim to her years ago.*

He tried to muster some sort of enthusiasm in order to congratulate her. "That 'is' marvelous news, I'm very happy for you." There, that sounded normal.

"Thank you, Rupert. That means a lot, coming from you. Now, enough about me- where are you, HOW are you? Tell me everything."

"Well, I...I live in Sunnydale, California and I'm a school librarian, of all things." He could hear her delighted laugh, and knew that she was picturing him surrounded by miniature Rippers. She knew everything about him, good and bad. The only person besides Ethan who understood him completely.

"They've gone and given me an active Slayer. Can you imagine? Someone must have known what they were doing, she's downright impossible at times. Exactly what I deserve, at least in the Council's eyes." He chuckled ruefully. "Her name is Buffy and truthfully- in spite of being somewhat difficult, she's the most resourceful Slayer I've ever come across. Her strength astounds me." He could feel his eyes water as he thought of Buffy and how much she meant to him.

"I can tell by your voice how proud you are of her. And I always knew that you'd make a fine Watcher; there was never any doubt in my mind."

"Meredith...the reason I called- Buffy is going through a difficult time and I-I'm not sure how to help her. I didn't know who else to turn to. I know I don't have any right to ask, but you helped me when I needed it most..." His voice trailed off as he felt guilt plague him once again for using her this way.

"Of course you have the right, that's what friends are for. I'll always be here, I thought you understood that."

"I'm a sodding idiot, I don't know why you put up with me." He felt better already, just hearing her voice.

"Yes, you do. I have too many years invested in our friendship, too many memories. Now, tell me about Buffy and what's troubling the both of you."

Giles proceeded to fill her in on the past two years, telling her everything about Angel, Buffy, Jenny, Spike's various evildoings. He left nothing out, unburdening himself to her just like he had when he was 25, teetering back from the brink of destruction.

Meredith cried when he talked about Jenny, of love lost before it had a chance to blossom. Talking about Jenny offered catharsis, something he'd been in desperate need of. He couldn't talk to Buffy; she would only feel more guilt and he refused to inflict that upon her.

Finally, after describing Buffy's ordeal with Angel and her recent behavior, Giles was finished- emotionally drained, but feeling better than he had in days.

"So, that's everything, then. Life on the Hellmouth, and all that it entails." He waited breathlessly for her say something, anything.

"Rupert, I-I had no idea- the things that you have to face, day after day, good lord! I can almost understand why you wanted to escape all those years ago. Poor Buffy, so young to have all of that weight on her shoulders. I can't imagine what it must be like, for either one of you."

That was the problem, no one could imagine it, not unless they experienced it first hand.

"It's Buffy I'm worried about. Killing Angel may have been too much for her to bear, I'm afraid. I don't know that she was ever able to separate Angel from Angelus; to look at him and see the monster beneath the face of the man she loved. She's been having terrible nightmares, but she won't talk about them, won't tell me much of anything."

"You're a man, she's a young girl. It's awkward, I know. Have you told her anything about your past? Perhaps that would help, if you confided in her."

He sighed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "She knows about Eyghon, of course. And a little about Ethan, but nowhere near the whole truth. I've never told anyone, except you. She's so young and my past is...something I don't even like to think about. If she is unable to trust me, I'll have failed as her Watcher, and I don't think I could survive that."

"I understand, Rupert. I'm afraid I haven't been much help, have I?" She sounded distressed, giving him another pang of guilt.

"Meredith- I, just talking to you has helped, more than you know. You've always been able to do that, make everything seem better, somehow." A thought occurred to him. "I'll bet you were a beautiful bride. Would you send me a picture?" He heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end.

"Are you sure? I'd be glad to, if you really want it."

He smiled then, truly happy for her, even though it meant closing a door on that part of his life. "I do want it. I've missed you, Meredith. I was a fool to let so much time go by. I won't do it again. Now, I've taken up enough of your time, I should go."

"All right, Rupert. I'm so glad you called. I've missed you, as well."

He gave her his address and said goodbye, his voice tinged with regret and sadness- for what he'd walked away from all those years ago, and would never have a chance at again.

Giles stared at the phone for a long time after hanging up, unable to stop visions of a younger, happier time from flickering through his mind. He rubbed his face with his hands, feeling old and tired, but at peace for the first time in months.

"Giles?"

He looked up into another pair of green eyes, so much like Meredith's that for a moment, past and present intertwined, leaving him disoriented and flustered.

Tangled up in your embrace
There's nothing I'd like better than to fall

"Willow!" He fumbled with his glasses, regaining his composure when they were safely back on his face. "Why aren't you in class?"

Giles stood up and began shelving books, trying to ignore the effect that she had on him. Willow followed him, grabbing a stack of books on her way. She set them down on the cart in front of the shelf, turning to look at him with concern.

"Mrs. Miller sent me down here for some history books." She reached out, laying a hand on his arm, her touch sending a jolt through him. "Giles, are you okay? You seemed...far away, just now."

He gave her a quick, nervous smile and moved away, pretending to be engrossed in his work.

Wind in time, rapes the flower
trembling on the vine and
Nothing yields to shelter it from above

"I'm fine, Willow, just...worried about Buffy, I suppose. These last few days have been rough on her." Focusing on Buffy gave him a chance to calm down. *She's a child, for god's sake. Less than half your age. Get hold of yourself, you're turning into a Nabokov character.*

"I saw Buffy this morning. She looked better, more like her old self. Maybe she's finally starting to deal with Angel's death."

"Perhaps." He glanced at her, this child-woman, so unaware of how desirable she was, of how much she tempted his inner demon. *You're staying buried, Ripper, where you belong. I won't allow you to fuck up my life again.*

They say temptation will destroy our love
The never ending hunger

"Shouldn't you be getting back to class? Do you need any help with those books?"

Willow shook her head and hurried to the stacks, pulling several books off of the shelves. She returned after a few minutes and stood in front of him, looking as though she wanted to say something, but unsure of how to go about it.

"Giles, Buffy will be okay. She's tough, you know? And she has you to help her get through this, which means that she'll be just fine."

Her trust in him, her confidence that he could make it all better, only served to make him feel worse about his reaction to her.

"Thank you, Willow. That's very kind of you. You'd better run along now, before Mrs. Miller wonders where you are."

She nodded and murmured a quick "See you later," hurrying out the door.

Giles stared after her, afraid that his call to Meredith had dredged up too many memories. Memories that only intensified his attraction to Willow, making him feel like a damned fool. *Christ! How can I help Buffy when my own life is a such a disaster?* He turned back to the books, immersing himself in the mundane task, emptying his mind of everything except the job at hand. Trying to forget that he lusted after a girl he'd sworn to help protect, a girl young enough to be his daughter.

But I fear, I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose here in this lonely place
Tangled up in our embrace
There's nothing I'd like better than to fall

Buffy stared at the clock, cursing its slowness and praying for the school day to come to an end. She hadn't been able to think of anything but Spike and the treehouse all day; hurrying to her locker between classes in order to touch and smell the rose, as if she needed to convince herself that she hadn't imagined finding it that morning. She'd only half listened to the conversations at lunch, oblivious to the strange looks that Willow threw her way as she sat there, a secret smile lighting her face. Buffy felt like screaming as she drummed her pencil on the desk; eleven o'clock was so far away! She didn't know how she would keep from going insane until then.

Finally, the bell rang and Buffy leaped from her seat as if shot from a cannon. Grabbing her books, she bolted for the door, heading straight for the library. *Meet with Giles, blow off training, and then what? Spend the next eight hours pulling my hair out by the roots?* She burst through the library doors, startling Giles, who was just coming out of his office.

"Buffy! Good lord, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Pausing to catch his breath, he looked at her, taking in the flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes and playful smile. *Willow was right, she does look better today.*

Relief flooded him; he'd been so afraid that she wouldn't be able to pull herself together, afraid that he'd have to delve into his own past in order to try to help her. Giles cursed his wretched cowardice, wishing that he was as brave as the young woman standing before him.

"Sorry, Giles." She smirked up at him impudently, letting him know that she was anything but. "Listen, about training today...I really have a ton of homework-"

Giles held up his hand, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "It's fine, Buffy. We can skip training today. My bruises need a chance to heal, at any rate."

"Great! So, anything Hellmouthy to report? Prophecies of doom? I can hang for a little while, as long as I spend some time studying." She threw her books on the table and hopped up next to them, swinging her feet in the air as she waited for the rest of the gang to show up.

"Um yes, well, actually things are quiet for the time being. What about your patrols? Any sign of Spike, or any indications that he's planning something?"

Luckily for her, Giles had his back turned and missed the blush that spread across her face. "Nope, just normal vamp activity, nothing out of the ordinary."

"Good. Perhaps your evaluation of him is correct, and he won't seek any retribution."

Buffy twirled a piece of her hair and tried to look unconcerned. "Don't worry. Whatever happens, I've got it covered. I can handle Spike...and anything he dreams up."

She was saved from further conversation by Willow, Xander, Oz and Cordelia. The five of them spent an hour talking about normal high school activities before Buffy stood up and announced that she was leaving. Telling Giles that she'd be sure to patrol for a couple of hours after sundown, she practically skipped her way out the door, stopping at her locker to retrieve the rose.

Spike paced back and forth, willing the sun to go down, anxious to be out of the mansion and away from prying eyes. Darius was snooping around- Spike just knew he was looking for any excuse to undermine his role as Master.

He hated all of the fucking politics that went with being in charge, always having to be on guard. If he didn't hate the thought of answering to someone else more, he'd step down; let some other poor sod watch over the idiots. *Yeah, right! No fucking way am I giving up control of Sunnyhell. It was bad enough having to deal with Angelus.*

Tomorrow...tomorrow for sure he'd have to tell the minions about Angel and Dru. All hell was going to break loose. *They'll be clamoring for the Slayer's head.*

It was going to be interesting- continuing his relationship with the Slayer while keeping up the pretense of trying to kill her. Part of him was looking forward to the challenge; at least it would keep him on his toes. The other part wanted to take the Slayer and run far from all of this Hellmouth madness- find some dark corner of the world where they could be together without worrying about her Watcher, or her idiot mum, or a bunch of vampires jockeying for power. Just the two of them, shagging until their parts fell off. *Yeah, well, it's a nice thought, anyway.*

The sun slipped below the horizon, signaling his freedom. He figured on grabbing something to eat before meeting the Slayer, maybe find a way to steer the minions away from the playground for tonight. It wouldn't do for one of them to catch him with her, not this soon, anyway. *I'll check the newspaper for a sporting event. Lots of food milling about, the fledglings will go for that. Easy pickings.*

As he headed downstairs, Spike wondered if the Slayer had liked the rose. He'd always been good at that sort of thing...when he put his mind to it. He was sure that she'd been surprised, figuring that a demon was incapable of romantic gestures...of showing feelings. Well, she'd realize soon enough that he was different from that fucking bastard, Angelus.

He'd always been capable of caring; the demon hadn't taken that away from him. He would never have stayed with Drusilla all those years if the demon had wiped out every last bit of his humanity. That was the kicker, why did he seem to have more of a heart than Angelus? Why was he able to love, when Angelus couldn't? And he HAD loved Drusilla- worshiped her, in fact. The only thing Angel had seemed to love was causing pain and destruction.

Before meeting Darla, Angelus had been given every advantage in life, born of well to do parents- unlike Spike, who'd been saddled with a drunken whore for a mother and who, from the tender age of seven, had had to rely on only his wits to survive. So why had Angelus turned out to be psychotic, while he, on the other hand, was merely somewhat rambunctious? Well, all right, maybe a sight more than rambunctious, but nowhere near the evil prick that Angelus had been.

So, what did it mean? Hell if he knew, and what the fuck did it matter, anyway? *Bloody hell!* Ever since he'd started up with the Slayer, he'd been plagued with too many introspective thoughts. *She's driving me out of my bloody mind! I never cared about this shit before. Probably because I was too busy taking care of Dru. Bloody full time job, that was.*

Spike grabbed the newspaper off of the table, eager to have something else to occupy his mind. He scanned the headlines, catching a small blurb on page 5, about a woman in LA found dead in her apartment, drained of blood. *Lara.* He felt the tiniest twinge of regret before turning to the sports page, hoping to find something to attract the boys' attention. *Aha! There it is!* Just outside of town, a minor league baseball game, filled with thousands of unsuspecting blood bags.

Spike casually mentioned the game to Jason- who used to play high school ball- knowing full well that Jason would rope everyone into going with him. His privacy problem solved, Spike went out in search of his own dinner, his spirits lifting as soon as he was free of the mansion's oppressive air.

It was time to go meet Spike- finally, after a seemingly endless day. Buffy had been practically jumping out of her skin all evening, stalking around the house like a caged animal, waiting for sundown so that she could go patrol and work off some of her pent up energy.

To her disappointment, she'd only found one newly risen fledgling, hardly a challenge. *Newly risen, now who could've...?* She doubted that it was Spike; he'd complained enough times about Angel populating the earth with his 'children'. That meant that someone else was trying to build a 'family'. *Or an army. I'd better warn Spike to watch his back.* A Slayer looking out for the welfare of a Master vampire, could her life possibly go more askew than this? She seriously doubted it, but this WAS Sunnydale, after all.

Buffy finished buttoning her dress- a light, cotton, sleeveless thing that she figured wouldn't be on her body for very long. *Why do I even bother getting dressed?* The scarf went back around her neck, just in case she happened to meet anyone on her way to the park. Sweeping her hair up, she pinned it loosely so that a few tendrils escaped, framing her face.

With one last look in the mirror, she grabbed a pair of sandals and snuck out of the house, her heart pounding so loudly that she thought her mother would hear her. *It feels almost like a real date, except for the sneaking around part. Thank god Mom's already in bed; she won't even notice that I'm gone.* Nothing short of Armageddon was going to keep her from meeting Spike. Nothing at all.

I'll bite the hand that feeds the pain
I'll lay my life down for love
I lost the truth, I lost my way
But I am looking for it

The streets were empty as she hurried to the park; no sign of anyone, alive or undead. Buffy walked steadily toward the treehouse, suddenly nervous about seeing Spike again. After last night, their relationship seemed changed, somehow, and she wasn't sure how to deal with it. *What if I imagined it? What if he doesn't feel the same way?* She stopped in front of the door and it suddenly opened, revealing a different Spike than the one she was used to seeing.

Oh I am looking for it now
I am looking for it
Oh I am looking for myself

He stood there in the doorway- just looking at her- barefoot, in faded jeans and a midnight blue shirt that darkened the color of his eyes. His face younger, more relaxed. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment as she stared back at him, caught up in those eyes- deep, penetrating, always seeing more than she wanted him to. She slipped off her sandals as he reached for her hand and helped her inside, holding her gaze, still not saying a word.

As the door closed behind her, Buffy looked at her surroundings, taking in the blankets and pillows covering the floor, the flickering candles that filled the shelf on the wall. Slow, sensuous music sounded from the portable cd player in the corner. He'd even tacked blankets up on the windows, for privacy. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked back at him in wonder, surprised that he'd gone to the trouble of making the treehouse comfortable- cozy, even.

"Spike, it's-" She didn't know what to say; it was all too much. He wasn't supposed to be like this, make her feel this way. *He wasn't supposed to make me fall in love with him.* The tears slipped down her cheeks as she finally admitted to herself what she'd been denying all along.

Spike took her face in his hands and gently kissed away her tears, their saltiness clinging to his lips. He reached up and loosened the pins from her hair, running his fingers through the silky strands while his eyes roamed over every inch of her. *So beautiful, golden fire...like seeing the sun again.*

After a hundred years of Drusilla's darkness, he welcomed the light- craved its warmth, not caring if he got burned. *Angelus was a bloody fool. How could he have wanted to destroy something so perfect?*

Even when Spike was trying to kill the Slayer, a part of him held back, knowing that he'd never again find another who challenged him like she did. He'd always credited himself with having more brains than Angel and here was the proof. The Slayer belonged to 'him' now, and Angel was dust, just as he should have been a fucking long time ago.

A savior sent to save the world
An angel has no armor
Now torn and bent, no wings unfurl
We are looking for it
Oh we are looking for it now

Spike unwrapped the scarf from her neck, running his fingertips across the bite, feeling her tremble at his touch. The healing process had already started, but he could still make out the tiny holes where his fangs had pierced her skin, leaving his mark. Pulling her close, he brushed his lips over the wound, fighting the urge to drink from her again. He wondered if there was something in her blood, some addictive chemical that would account for his obsessive need to be with her, to feel her body beneath his, to taste her sweetness.

Sliding his hands around her waist, he kissed his way up her neck, stopping at her ear to whisper, "I want to make love to you, Slayer. It's all I've thought about since this morning."

Reaching up to wind her arms around his neck, Buffy pressed closer to Spike, wanting to feel his hard body pressed against hers, her heart already beating faster as his soft words registered. She buried her face in the hollow of his throat, trailing kisses over his cool skin as his hands moved across her back, holding her tighter. Her fingers flew to the buttons on his shirt, unfastening them one by one, her mouth covering every part of his exposed chest.

"You taste so good," she murmured, pushing the shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms.

Spike gripped her arms, pulling her back against him and capturing her mouth in a kiss that left her breathless. His tongue slid past her lips to stroke hers, the sensation causing a tingle that traveled all the way to her womb. As the kiss grew deeper, they both moaned at the same time, their hands roving over each other's skin, forgetting everything except the feeling of their bodies pressed tightly together.

We are looking for it
We need to find but one thing good

He slowly unbuttoned her dress, letting it slip to the floor until she stood there before him, clad only in white lace panties. The panties followed the dress and his eyes darkened with lust as he gently lowered her to the makeshift bed. From behind a pillow, he produced another rose, similar to the one that he'd left in her locker. Holding it over her head, he brought it down slowly, lightly caressing her brow, drifting over her nose, across her lips. Buffy sighed with pleasure as the soft petals moved over her skin, touching her lower and lower. Spike took his time, watching her face as he swirled the rose around one pink nipple, then the other, smiling as she whimpered and arched upward.

And under every star (I'm finding heaven)

She gave herself up to the exquisite torture that he was inflicting upon her. Teasingly, the flower eased its way down over her stomach, dipping into her navel, kissing the hollow between hip and thigh. Her breath caught in her throat, waiting to see where it would go next. Spike didn't disappoint, easing her legs apart and lightly brushing the rose back and forth across her clitoris and her labia, just barely touching the sensitive flesh. It was almost too much; she didn't know whether she wanted it to stop...or never end.

In every breath of air (I'm finding heaven)

Spike couldn't wait any longer to taste her. He replaced the flower with his mouth, licking every fold, sucking her clit while his hands smoothed over her hips, lifting them in order to drink deeply from the wetness flowing over his tongue. This was home to him, this sweet warmth between her thighs. The only thing that eased his restlessness, gave him any kind of peace. His cock throbbed painfully, still trapped inside his jeans. He slid a finger inside of her, rubbing, listening the hoarse cries coming from her throat.

In everything I have (I'm finding heaven)

Buffy grabbed Spike's hair and pulled, wanting to feel him on top of her- inside her. He raised his head and looked into her eyes, seeing the urgency in them. Quickly undoing his jeans, he yanked them off, freeing his swollen member. Moving between her legs he stared down at her face, brushing his thumb across her cheek.

Buffy ran her hands over the muscles in his arms, gazing up at him with luminous eyes, letting him see what she'd tried so hard to hide.

"Love me, Spike, please..."

With a groan, Spike buried his face in her neck and found himself answering her, almost against his will. "I will, pet." *I do...God-or-Satan-or-whoever fucking help me.* He'd cut out his tongue before he said the words out loud; it was enough that they'd popped into his head.

Spike eased into her slowly, holding her face in his hands so that he could watch her eyes. She gasped as he filled her, wrapping her legs around him and thrusting upward until he was fully sheathed in her warmth. Buried deep, he stayed still, fighting for control as he felt her tighten around him. Both of them were thinking the same thing...that nothing on earth had ever felt this good, this right.

In everything I am...

Their moans filled the air as they began moving together in perfect rhythm, already in tune with each other's bodies. Her fingernails dug into his back as she arched against him, taking him deeper, feeling his cock grow harder with each thrust. She opened herself wholly to him, completely filled with his cold, hard length.

Buffy pulled his face down to hers, kissing him, her hands winding through his hair. Moving from her mouth to her ear, Spike traced the curve with his tongue, nipping and sucking at the lobe.

"Spike...aaahhh, that feels..." Her voice trailed off as he sped up, rocking his groin against her clit, making speech impossible as she felt her climax draw near.

"You're so hot and wet, love, so tight," he breathed against her neck, knowing she was close by the high pitched sounds coming from her throat. Clutching her hips, Spike drove into her harder, his face buried in her hair, surrounded by her scent.

"Come for me, Slayer, I want to hear you scream..." He felt her body shake, could hear her heart pounding as she forced out the words.

"Say...my...name..." She needed to hear him say it, even if it was only once.

Spike growled low in his throat, so close to his own orgasm that he didn't think he could hold out much longer. He put his lips to her ear, feeling his control snap as he said her name for the first time. "Buffy...I-aahh, Christ!"

The sound of her name on his lips sent Buffy over the edge, her body going rigid. "Now, Spike, please, please, please..." She screamed as she exploded, coming in wave after wave of intense pleasure.

Spike quickly followed, letting out a roar as he felt her tighten around him, releasing his seed in long spurts that seemed to go on and on. The force of it left him shaken and his head dropped to her shoulder, pressing against her damp skin.

The world is big, the world is bad
But I will find the beauty
I see a vision in my head
I am looking for it

Tears leaked from Buffy's eyes as she lay there, trembling, her hand stroking his sweat soaked hair. *I love you.I love you.I love you...*

As if he could hear her thoughts, Spike raised his head and looked at her, one of his fingers coming up to touch her cheek. *Christ, Slayer...what the fuck have you done to me?* He closed his eyes, rubbing his head against hers as the tremors subsided. *No way out, not now, not ever...* Completely lost, sucked into the vortex...and he didn't even care, not one fucking bit.

Oh I am looking for it now
Oh I am looking for myself

Continued