A Good Man

-1-

"That was lame."

"That is so not true!" Dawn brushed the vampire dust off her jeans as they walked through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries. "I totally had him."

"Oh, so that's why I'm the one who had to slay him?"

Dawn pouted and kicked a stone. Buffy looked around at the familiar tombstones; Spike's old crypt was somewhere in the distance, though they were heading away from it now. She twirled her stake, itching for something to slay, and wondering how many vampires and assorted nasties she had killed since she was called. Far too many, and yet never enough. Still, it was something to do.

After walking in silence for a few minutes, Dawn spoke again.

"So, you looking forward to seeing Willow and Giles again?"

"Yeah. I've missed them." Buffy cast her sister a sideways glance as they continued through the cemetery. "You don't sound too happy."

Dawn shrugged. "I'm totally for seeing Giles again. As for Willow... What do you expect? At least she won't be living with us this time. I mean, letting her try to kill me twice is pretty bad, but three times would be downright careless."

"It won't happen again," said Buffy, lowering her eyes. "With the therapy, or whatever, she's been getting from Giles and the coven in England, she'll be back to normal Willow again."

"Oh, so not world-destroying Willow. Just Willow who cheats on her boyfriend, wipes the minds of her friends and casts wonky spells when things go wrong, then?" Dawn sighed. "Yeah, I know, she's your best friend, you have to give her the benefit of the doubt and everything. And as long as you two déjà your vu away from me, I'm cool with it."

"You weren't this harsh on Spike," remarked Buffy.

"You have a short memory, Buffy. I know you haven't noticed, but Spike and I aren't exactly best buddies. He's okay, though. And it's easier, because I know he really isn't the demon who attacked you. Plus, he never actually tried to kill me, which is a big bonus. Closest I got to meeting Spike at his most evil was when he was sitting in the living-room asking me where I got my nail polish."

Even though she now knew that Dawn hadn't really been there, Buffy smiled at the memory. It was comforting to remember her mother and little sister sitting on the couch while Spike, the evil vampire who only wanted to skip town with his evil girlfriend, sat with them and waited for Buffy to come up with a plan to stop Angelus.

Buffy raised her stake when she heard a sound nearby. A man walked out from behind a tree a few feet away. She lowered the weapon and crossed her arms when she recognised him.

"Boo," said Spike with a chuckle.

"Speak of the devil." Buffy shook her head in consternation. "Still hiding behind trees, I see."

"What can I say? Hard to break the habits of an unlifetime."

"Now, there's something we don't see very often," said Dawn.

Spike frowned. "What, me in a cemetery?"

"No, just you." Dawn walked around him, looking him over as if he might be a hallucination. "You've been kinda scarce this last couple of weeks. So, you leading a secret life in the cemetery you're not telling us about?" She raised her eyebrows and pretended to give Buffy a worried look. "Maybe he's a vampire again!"

"In that corduroy jacket?" exclaimed Buffy. "I don't think so. People who wear brown corduroy just can't be evil. It's a fact."

"I dunno, Buffy. Wasn't that vampire wearing cords the other day? Spike is a kinda geeky human being; I guess he'd be a bit geeky to start with after becoming a vampire. I mean, along with the being evil and soulless."

"Dawn is right." Spike waggled his finger at Buffy. "You're assuming I would be turned back into the vampire I was before I became human again. You're forgetting that it took over a century to get just the right combination of hairstyle, coat and attitude to strike fear in the hearts of my victims." He grinned. "I got a bit of a fright myself when I finally saw myself in a mirror!"

Dawn put her hand on his arm, radiating false concern. "I didn't want to tell you when you were a vampire. But it's true. You're really butt-ugly. I don't know what Buffy saw in you."

Spike leaned closer to Dawn. "Neither do I. But on the other hand, she did go out with Angel."

"Point taken."

Buffy crossed her arms and glared at both of them. "Har-di-har-har. If I laugh any harder, I'll bust a rib. Anyway, what's with the cemetery visit, Spike? You picking up stuff from the crypt?"

"Oh you know," started Spike with a vague gesture that suggested he was making something up, "I was just passing by. Heard the pair of you making enough noise to attract every vamp in town. Thought I'd drop in and see what you were up to. Aside from the slaying, that is."

"Nope, it's just the slaying." Buffy tossed him a stake. "Since you're here, you can help. Or have you forgotten how?"

Spike handled the weapon gingerly. "Not so much forgotten how as got all my strength sucked out with the demon. I'll have to pass, I'm afraid; I'm not in the mood to be knocked unconscious."

"So if you're not here to pick up your stuff from the crypt or help us slay things, why are you here?" asked Dawn, eyeing him with suspicion.

"Bloody hell, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition?" Spike laughed. "Can't a chap take a stroll through the local graveyard without being interrogated? Well, if you really want to know, I've joined this ex-con support group thing. They meet over the road from the cemetery, so I thought I'd wander in here on the off-chance that you were here. So there you go: nothing nefarious."

Buffy looked at Spike with a dubious expression. "An ex-con support group?"

"Giles seemed to think I should talk to someone impartial - in the vaguest terms possible, obviously. The counsellor there wasn't bad, but I think I'll be better off talking to Giles when he gets here. I think I need to get a bit more specific in my confessions."

"You could always talk to m--" started Buffy, though Spike wasn't listening.

"Watcher and Red are back in town tomorrow, aren't they?" he asked. "What's the plan?"

"We'll pick them up from the airport in the afternoon and then have dinner at our place," explained Dawn. "I guess they'll want to rest after that."

"I don't know why Giles wouldn't stay with us," said Spike. "I offered to let him have the room I'm in, but he insisted on staying in a hotel. Maybe he thought I would come and kill him in his sleep or something." He glanced at Buffy. "Either that or he's tasted your cooking."

She gave him a friendly punch. "Shut up! It's not that bad."

"I'm glad he's not staying with us," said Dawn gravely. "We really don't need to have two guys who leave the toilet seat up!"

"Hey, when you're a man, you need a big target!" exclaimed Spike. "Besides, I have to put the toilet seat up every time I go to the loo. You can jolly well put it down again." He gave the girls a goofy grin. "Just count yourselves lucky I don't just leave the toilet seat down and piss all over it."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Okay, leaving aside the fact that we're having a conversation about Spike's peeing habits--"

She interrupted herself and spun around when she heard a woman screaming a short distance away. The three of them ran in that direction and found a young woman being attacked by two vampires, a man and a woman. Buffy threw the male vampire into a tree, knocking him out for a moment while she fought the female vamp.

"Run!" she told the victim.

The girl was too traumatised to follow her order. Instead, she just sank to the ground, crying and shaking. Spike helped her to her feet.

"You okay, love?" He looked at Dawn. "Can you walk her out of the cemetery, pet? Make sure she's all right."

Dawn did as he suggested, guiding the girl to safety. Buffy returned her attention to the fight. The vampire was a good opponent; she and her mate were clearly not fledglings. The male vamp came back to his senses and attacked Spike, barrelling into him and knocking him breathless. For a moment, Buffy was afraid she would have to rescue Spike, but he recovered enough to punch the vampire. Before it had time to use its superior strength, he planted his stake firmly in the creature's chest, a smile of triumph on his lips.

Buffy dispatched her own assailant. Her heart was racing, its rapid rhythm pounding in her ears as the adrenalin coursed through her veins. Spike looked at the stake he was holding, a mixture of shame and pride on his expressive features, then raised his eyes to Buffy's and smiled. Pride had won out. He was a good fighter and he knew it. Hyped up by the slaying, Buffy couldn't help looking over Spike's well-concealed body and thinking about what might happen if she took a step closer. Slayage and sex. The best combination ever. She missed that.

"Gee, Spike," said Dawn, who had returned. "Guess you really meant it when you said you weren't in the mood to be knocked unconscious."

"I've read about human demon hunters," said Willow the next evening, holding her mug of cocoa with both hands. "A well-trained human with good weapons can usually take on a vampire. Spike might be human, but I guess he's still a good fighter. He certainly kicked Xander's ass. Though I guess that's not saying much."

Buffy stopped observing the oven and turned to look at her, puzzled. "No, he didn't. It was a draw. Xander broke Spike's glasses."

"Yeah, and then Spike knocked Xander out cold." Willow smiled. "Xander sent me an e-mail about it at the time. I guess they didn't give you all the details; kinda puts them both in a bad light."

"Yeah, the light where they don't tell me the truth about what happened," said Buffy. She frowned. "Now I think about it, I guess Xander did mention something about being knocked unconscious. I don't know why Spike said it was a draw. You'd think he'd want to brag about winning the fight."

Willow half-shrugged. "I've only exchanged a few e-mails with him, but he seems kinda down with the violence thing. Like he feels he should be all pacifisty to make up for his past."

"Oh." Buffy was puzzled, and a bit irritated. She could understand Xander confiding in Willow, but Spike? She turned her attention back to the oven and pulled out the casserole she had made.

Her misgivings about Spike sending Willow e-mails notwithstanding, Buffy was really happy to have Giles and Willow back. They had been such a large part of her life for so long that Buffy was amazed she had actually gotten used to their absence. Giles seemed very much the same as always; a little distant, but affectionate in his quiet way. Willow had put on weight, and appeared happy to be back in Sunnydale. She wasn't quite the sweet, innocent person she had once been, but then, who was?

The two returned to the dining room with the casserole. Spike was sitting at the table, while the other Scoobies looked over his shoulder at the photocopy he was holding. Buffy craned her neck to see it when she put the dish on the table.

"Hey, you're all doing something interesting without me," she said. "What's up?"

"You know, we do have lives outside what we do with you," remarked Spike with a grin.

"No, you don't," said Buffy. "You all cease to exist the minute I leave the room. I know this. Seriously, what are you doing?"

Spike held up the paper. "Taking a trip down memory lane. My lane, to be precise, though I seem to have a lot of passengers." He glowered at the Scoobies.

"I contacted the Watcher who wrote her thesis on Spike," explained Giles, "and asked her to provide me with some of the documents she found during her research."

"It's amazing," said Xander. "There are pictures of his family and everything. Spike had a family!"

Spike lifted one eyebrow and cast Buffy a long-suffering glance. "Yes, that certainly put to rest all the rumours that I burst spontaneously from a molehill."

Buffy laughed and came to look over his shoulder. The photograph Spike was holding pictured a typical Victorian family. The women wore enormous crinolines and unflattering hairstyles; the men had mutton-chop whiskers and high collars. The parents were seated on a couch, glaring at the camera with unsmiling faces. A little girl with blond ringlets sat on a low chair in front of them, while an older boy and girl stood behind the couch. Buffy assumed that Spike was the older boy, though his face was blurred, and it was difficult to make out his features clearly.

"Wow, you don't look like you're having much fun," said Willow.

"Yeah, guess Queen Victoria's 'we are not amused' pretty much sums up the era, huh?" Xander frowned when everyone turned to look at him in surprise. "What? Just because I'm 'didn't-go-to-college-guy' doesn't mean I don't know anything, right?"

Spike shook his head. "It's funny, really. I remember when this picture was taken. It wasn't every day you got photographed." He ran his fingers over the figures on the page. "We were all trying so hard not to laugh, we ended up looking as if we were going to a funeral. But you had to pose for so long that you were better off not trying any fancy facial expressions."

"Why were you laughing?" asked Dawn.

"Well..." Spike pointed at the little girl. "If you look carefully, you'll notice that my sash is actually wrapped around the back of the chair. My breeches were so shiny and new that I kept slipping off the chair just as the chap was about to take the photograph! Seems silly now, but you know how it goes; you get the giggles and can't stop."

"That's you?" exclaimed Buffy, peering at the golden-haired child.

Xander chuckled. "Oh, yeah. That's Spike. We've already had the 'Spike was a little girl when he was a little boy' conversation."

"It was the fashion of the time, okay?" said Spike defensively. "I bet there are some pretty embarrassing pictures of you as a child, Harris."

"He used to have ringlets too."

"Willow!" exclaimed Xander. "What is this, reveal embarrassing secrets time? Cause I know all sorts of embarrassing things about you, Wills...things like...things I'll remember later."

"Buffy's childhood pictures are kind of cute. Except she had dark hair," said Dawn. "Which proves she's a bottle blonde."

"Tell us something we don't know, nibblet," said Spike, reaching for a stack of papers. "I don't believe some of this stuff. These are photocopies of my mother's diary!" He stared at the papers for a moment, then turned to put them all on the sideboard. "Anyway, let's have some nosh, eh? It smells delicious, pet." He cast a bright smile in Buffy's direction. "Maybe I'll change my opinion about your cooking."

After dinner and a round of Pictionary, Buffy and Spike took out the dirty plates, still laughing about the game. Spike started on the washing while Buffy went to get another load of dishes. By the time she came back, she found him standing in front of a sink full of soap suds. A whole mountain of soap suds.

"What are you going to do with all that foam, doofus?" she laughed.

"Oh, I don't know." Spike lowered his head and gave her an evil look. He scooped up a handful. "Toss it at people who criticise my washing-up skills, maybe?"

"Don't you dare! I'll stake you if you do that. Hey! Argh!" Buffy screamed as the handful of suds caught her right on the head.

Spike backed away to avoid her playful blow. "See, that's actually a great improvement. Way better than the usual 'ponytail of repression' look."

"You don't like my ponytail?" asked Buffy, touching her hair.

"It does make your ears stick out," he said. Buffy pouted. Spike laughed. "Don't worry. I wouldn't have fallen for you if I was bothered by your hairstyle."

Buffy brightened up at the mention of him falling for her. Seeing him playing games and laughing with her friends had reminded her just how much he had changed. What a great guy he was now that the whole vampire thing was over. Great guy, and a great fighter too. Just perfect. She got some foam and flicked it at him. They chased each other around the kitchen for a few minutes, their squeals of protest prompting only one rather disinterested visit from Xander, who had been sent to investigate. After he left, Spike won their haphazard little game of tag, pinning Buffy against the refrigerator.

Breathless and exhilarated, Buffy looked up at him. Even with the glasses, he was just as sexy and exciting as he had been the previous year. Except that now, he was also a great guy. If she lifted her face just so, maybe he would take the hint and kiss her. A long, slow kiss, followed by the caress of his hands on her hips, the feel of his strong body pressed against her, his hard--

"Hey, is that Watcher Boy playing Stargazer out there?"

Her sensual mood completely broken, Buffy turned to look out of the back door. "Oh. Yeah. It is."

"I didn't even notice him go out," said Spike. He seemed concerned; Buffy was merely annoyed. "Maybe you should see what he's up to. Just in case he's feeling left out with all us bright young things in here."

"Yeah." Might as well, if Spike was more interested in Giles than in kissing her.

She pulled away from the cold refrigerator and went out to join her former Watcher. Just as Spike had pointed out, he was looking up at the stars, his glasses glistening in the pale night lights.

"So, I guess you're not that into Pictionary," she said, coming to stand beside him.

"No," admitted Giles with a chuckle. Then he turned towards her and sighed. "I thought I had grown used to the idea by now. That two weeks of research and reflection was enough to prepare me. But seeing Spike in person only makes me even more aware of the magnitude of what has happened."

"So one vampire became human again," said Buffy with a half-shrug. "He isn't the first. If someone could mojo Darla back to life, Spike's resurrection isn't exactly special."

"Oh, but it is," said Giles, shaking his head. "He wasn't just 'mojoed' back to life. He chose this path. As a soulless being, he made the decision to travel halfway around the world, and battle untold monsters to become -- from his point of view -- weak, mortal and powerless. And he did it all for--"

"Me?"

"I was going to say 'love'. But yes, he did it all for you."

Buffy smiled with delight. "It's quite something, isn't it?"

"Yes." Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them. "Quite something. A demon chose to switch sides in the great cosmic battle of good and evil. It goes against everything the Council ever taught me." He put his glasses on. "However, you shouldn't feel beholden to him, Buffy. I realise you have good reason to be impressed by the lengths he went to in order to make himself acceptable to you. But this doesn't mean you have an obligation to return his feelings, or that you should resume your previous relationship with him."

Buffy frowned. "Who said we wanted to get back together?"

"I did see you chasing each other in the kitchen just now. And the e-mails I exchanged with Spike suggest that he is still completely besotted with you." Giles noticed Buffy's look of surprise. "I gather he hasn't been pursuing you as he did in the past."

"No, not really. We agreed it would be wrong anyway. I-I mean, well, after everything... But he's changed."

"Yes, I suppose he has." Giles fixed Buffy with a stern expression. "But he isn't a different person. He feels very strongly that he is the same person who assaulted you, and I'm inclined to agree."

"I know, Giles," Buffy assured him. "I'm not some naïve teenage girl who believes in magic wands that turn a monster into the perfect boyfriend. But there were things I liked about Spike, even as he was. Now he's not so obsessed with being the big bad or impressing me, I guess those things are more evident. And... I don't know. It's-- we'll see what will happen." She shivered in the cool night air. "You wanna come back in?"

"No, I think I'll stare at the stars and ponder this extraordinary change for a little longer. A hundred years or so should do the trick."

When Buffy opened the back door, she could hear voices coming from the small room to her right. Spike was sitting in the corner armchair, while Willow leaned on the window sill beside him.

"...It's just a question of scale," Willow was saying. "It doesn't matter if I killed one person or ten thousand. And it doesn't matter if the two guys I killed were the worst scum in the universe. Maybe Warren really deserved what I did to him. But it doesn't change the facts. I am a murderer. Just like you." She put her hand on his. "And, hey, kinda tried to kill another six billion here."

"Were you planning to individually rip their throats out and drink their blood, or just snap their necks?" Spike sighed, his forehead a mass of worry lines. "I don't really see what your little Angelus-wannabe jaunt has to do with my problems. I still think you come off better, pet, no matter what you say."

Willow squeezed his hand. "I'm just saying, I know how you feel. I see Warren in my dreams sometimes. See myself torturing and murdering him. And I guess it helps if you have someone to talk to. Someone who understands. Giles and I understand, Spike, even if we killed people for different reasons."

"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten about the Watcher's dark past." Spike chuckled. "We're a fine bunch, aren't we?" Then he winced and stood up. "But you've just got a couple of faces in your dreams. I can lie there for hours, picking a victim to brood about. 'Now, should I agonise over the little girl I ate in Llansa, or what about the guy in Bergen? Or no, I know, the entire family Dru and I terrorised and murdered in Bangalore.' And after a while of this, I take a sleeping pill and knock myself out instead."

He turned slightly and noticed Buffy standing in the doorway. Willow followed his gaze and smiled. "Oh, hey, Buffy. Spike and I are comparing notes."

Spike gave Buffy a wan smile. "Turns out we have a lot in common now we're both murderers with a guilty conscience. We're thinking about founding a club, actually."

"Great," said Buffy uncomfortably. "Any room for me in your little club?"

"Nah." His smile broadened. "Got to be a murderer, innit?"

Buffy stared at them. She remembered the last time a former lover and an erstwhile friend had stood before her, united in their shared quest for redemption. But Spike wasn't Angel, and Willow wasn't Faith. They were her friends, standing in her home, and she was going to help them. Somehow.

Willow went through to the living-room to join Xander and Dawn, who were still playing the game. As he followed her, Spike leaned towards Buffy.

"Apparently, part of this murderer bonding process involves going to the beach this Saturday," he said. "I'm pretty sure they never said anything about that in the redemption manual!"

Spike was sitting on his own in the dining room when Buffy came down to get a glass of water later that night. She watched him reading the documents Giles had brought, his expression serious and sad in the orange light of a single table lamp. For a moment, she hesitated, tempted to walk into the room and demand to be shown what he was looking at. To be made part of his life.

Shaking her head, Buffy turned away, intending to go into the kitchen through the corridor. Before she had gone very far, she heard his voice.

"Buffy, is that you?"

She came back into the dining room. "Who else wanders around the house spying on you?"

"You're not spying. I could do with some company, actually. The ghosts get a bit tiresome after a while."

Spike held out his hand, inviting her to come and sit beside him. When she joined him, he showed her a picture of a middle-aged woman. She was small and thick-set, with a serious, austere expression to match her dark clothes.

"Your mother?" asked Buffy. "She looks... kinda scary, actually."

Spike laughed. "She does, doesn't she? So much for photographs capturing life. She wasn't scary at all. She ruled all our lives, but she wasn't scary." He looked at the picture with a tenderness that tugged at Buffy's heart. "I remember one day, after my father died. Mother got this idea that she should have a sewing machine. She was the world's worst seamstress; she just didn't have the patience. But anyway, she got this sewing machine and set about making a jacket for me."

"A jacket?" Buffy was no great seamstress herself, but she had sat and watched her own mother working at her sewing machine often enough to know a little about the craft. "She didn't know how to sew and she decided to start with a jacket?"

"I know." Spike grinned. "I told you; no patience. I was sitting in the library, and I heard these shrieks of laughter. So I went downstairs, and there were my mother and the maid actually rolling on the floor laughing! It turned out my mother had somehow sewn her dress' sleeve to the jacket."

Spike's laughter rang out in the dining room, loud and frank. Buffy laughed with him, trying to imagine this austere Victorian matron rolling on the floor with mirth.

"She was terrible," said Spike fondly. "She had a very sharp tongue; used to make fun of everyone. Including Father and us children, of course. Taught me to see the humour in things. Very useful skill when you've lived the life I've led. I didn't really appreciate it at the time; took myself far too seriously. I shudder to think what she said about me in her diary. In fact, I think I'll give it a miss," he added, pointing to the pile of papers he had set aside. "There are some things I'd rather not know." Then he sighed and looked at the picture. "God, she would have been so ashamed of me."

Buffy hesitated, and then put her hand on his, trying to comfort him. "I don't think so," she said softly. "I think right now, she'd be really proud."

Spike's lips twisted into a sad smile. Buffy put her other hand on his and his smile grew more confident.

"Of course, you realise that's poppycock," he said. "She'd have disowned me forever the minute I shacked up with Dru. But it's a nice thought." He slid one arm around her; Buffy resisted the powerful urge to kiss his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder instead. "Well, let's see what other maudlin sentiments this lot can inspire in us before the night is over."

-2-

"I'm also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her."

Spike's lips were moving to the rhythm of Julia Roberts' voice. Buffy watched him, amused by his fascination for the British comedy they were watching. In a way, she could understand why he liked Notting Hill. Floppy-haired Englishman with glasses meets supercilious American bitch and wins her heart. It was probably Spike's favourite fairy tale.

Buffy had come home from her evening class to find Spike, Willow and Dawn lined up on the couch watching the movie and eating popcorn. It was like old times, except that Xander was out on a date with some girl he had met, and Spike had never participated in one of the Scoobies' popcorn-and-movie nights before. Buffy drew her eyes away from the former vampire, who was sitting in between her and Willow, and then settled down to watch the movie, smiling with contentment.

"I love that film," said Spike when it finished.

Dawn grinned at him from her position on the floor. "Of course you do. It has a guy called Spike in it."

"I like a romance with a happy ending," said Willow with a sad sigh.

Buffy and Dawn exchanged a look, unsure what to say. Spike put his arm around the former witch, pulling her into a friendly, consoling hug. It warmed Buffy's heart to see him so compassionate. Now that he was human, he seemed to know exactly how to connect with people. It was something that had never come naturally for Buffy.

Comforted by his embrace, Willow leaned against Spike with a smile, and then looked at the sisters.

"We're going to the beach on Sunday, by the way, not Saturday," she said. "Better weather, according to the forecast."

"It's just as well, because we have a party to go to on Saturday," said Spike with a grin. "Can't have too much excitement in a day!"

"Party?" repeated Buffy. "What party?"

"Is this the orgy you mentioned a couple of weeks ago?" asked Dawn.

Willow's eyes widened. "It's an orgy?"

"No! It's not an orgy. It's exactly what I said it was: a British-themed fancy dress party." Spike gave Dawn a dirty look. "There's just going to be a lot of booze, and the girl who's organising it doesn't want trouble with little tiddlywinks running around."

"You never told me it was a costume party!" exclaimed Buffy, suddenly remembering what 'fancy dress' meant. "What am I going to go as?"

Spike pulled his arm out from around Willow and drew back to look Buffy over. "Good question. I'd say Kylie Minogue, because of the pint-sized aspect, but she's not British. I'll have a think about it."

"A quick think about it, if the party is on Saturday." Buffy shook her head. "I can't believe you didn't remind me!"

"Yeah, well, you have a mind like a sieve." Spike shrugged. "Besides, I never see you."

"And whose fault is that?" demanded Buffy. "You're the one who works all the time. You're never here!"

"Okay!" said Willow in an artificially cheerful voice. She seized the popcorn bowl. "Want to help me make some more popcorn, Dawnie?"

"You want to see more of me?" exclaimed Spike in disbelief once the other two had made their hasty exit.

Buffy crossed her arms and looked away from him. He seemed genuinely bewildered, and the last thing she wanted was a long conversation about why she wished he was around more. Mainly because she wasn't sure herself.

"Forget it," she said.

"No." Spike put his hand on her arm. Again with the empathy thing. The touch of his warm hand on her bare arm sent shivers down her spine. "What's this all about, pet?"

"It's about you never being around," she snapped, drawing her arm away from his hand and scooting to the other end of the couch. "You kiss me, you show me pictures of your family, and then I don't see you for days, and it's like we're strangers again."

"Oh." Spike looked thoughtful.

Neither of them said anything for a while. Buffy could hear Willow and Dawn laughing in the kitchen. Well, that was one weight off her mind; she didn't like the idea of her sister holding a long-term grudge against her best friend. Now, if her sister would just forgive her ex-boyfriend, all would be right in the world. And if her ex-boyfriend would just forgive her, it would be even better. Buffy turned to look at Spike.

"Maybe we should date," she blurted out.

Now he just looked puzzled. "'Date'?"

Oh God, he was going to make things difficult. Buffy wished she hadn't said anything about dating. Here she was throwing herself at a guy who thought being with her was 'wrong'. What was she thinking?

"Come on, Spike," she said with a sneer, embarrassment making her aggressive. "I know you're like a born-again nineteenth century guy, but you do know about dating, right?"

He smiled. "Well, I've only been on one date since I became human again, but yes, I'm familiar with the concept."

"Well, we-- You've been on a date since you became human again?" Buffy was hurt; she was supposed to be the one he loved, the one he had become human for. He'd been on a date with someone else? "Who did you date?"

Spike rolled his eyes. Clearly, it wasn't something he had planned to tell her. "Okay... Melissa next door asked me out before she left. She was lonely, she fancied me, I... thought it would be good if I tried to be a bit more normal. Giles reckons it's good for me too. Get out, meet other people, go on the pull. Learn... normal stuff." He glanced at her. "Not that anything happened. I mean it was dinner, a movie -- spectacularly stupid movie -- and then we came home and that's it. Had to give her a little 'that was nice, but don't let's ever do this again' speech. Probably helped my maturity tremendously."

Buffy was too shocked to say anything for a moment. She remembered him playing with Pepito and Melissa in the backyard. She'd had absolutely no idea he was going out with the woman! Anya she could understand. Hell, even Harmony. But Melissa was a plain dishwater blonde with glasses. And Spike had gone out with her while he was living in Buffy's house. While Buffy was trying to--

"That's why you wouldn't-- that's why you said it was wrong! You were going out with someone else!" exclaimed Buffy. She shook her head in disgust. "And going on a date with a near-stranger before dumping her is your idea of maturity?"

"Compared to mooning after a woman I've tried to rape and murder, yeah." Spike stood up, breathing hard to calm himself. "Look, forget it. I'm sorry. I'll try to be around more in future, okay? And we'll discuss what you'll wear to the party. Plenty of time to get you a costume. It'll be fun."

"So you're not going to the party," said Dawn, looking at Buffy with suspicion while the latter made dinner for two.

"No. I'm not." Buffy smiled brightly. "I'm going to spend some quality time with my little sister."

Dawn nodded with a knowing smile. "Or you're pissed off at Spike and don't want to go to his party."

"It's not his party," said Buffy with a shrug. "And I'm not pissed off at Spike."

Which wasn't entirely true. She was still digesting the whole Melissa thing, and Spike's ridiculous working hours had conspired to keep them apart ever since. That and the fact that Buffy had arranged to go shopping with Dawn and Willow on the one day when Spike wanted to go looking for a costume for her. But who wanted to go to some dumb British costume party, anyway?

"I just don't want to leave you all on your own," she added. "We can spend the evening together. Just you and me."

"Yeah, like we do every evening." Dawn leaned on the breakfast bar. "I know you're trying to be like a good Mom and everything, but it doesn't mean you can't have fun too. I mean, even Willow and Xander have gone to the party. You don't have to stay home with me all the time."

Buffy poked at the pasta she was cooking, then gave Dawn a suspicious look. "Were you planning to have a party here or something?"

"No, but I was planning on a quiet evening on my own." Dawn smiled and crossed her arms. "Come on, Buffy. Swallow your pride and go to the ball. Maybe you'll meet someone who isn't a cheating, raping, homicidal maniac for a change."

Buffy could hear the vibrations of loud dance music from inside the house as she rang the doorbell. It was a while before a spaced-out girl dressed as a dominatrix opened the door. She disappeared without saying anything, leaving Buffy standing nonplussed in the doorway. Okay, not quite the kind of costume she'd imagined for British night. Maybe Dawn's assessment that this was an orgy wasn't so far off the mark after all. Buffy looked down at herself. Rather than get a costume, she had opted for the Grown-up Buffy look; little black dress with sheer pantyhose and high-heeled sandals, hair done up in a loose bun, just enough makeup to make her eyes beguiling and her lips luscious. It was a look designed to fit in anywhere. Except possibly at an orgy.

Deciding not to give herself time to ponder that thought any further, Buffy walked into the house and made her way toward the noisiest part. A large room at the back of the house had been converted into a club, complete with flashing lights and loud music. The walls were decorated with one Irish and one British flag, as well as some others Buffy didn't recognise; a red dragon on a white and green background; a red cross on a white background; a white X on a blue background. There was also a tabloid-sized picture of the Queen.

It looked as though the whole of UC Sunnydale had come to the party; Buffy scanned the crowd for any of her friends, but could see no one she recognised. Some of the costumes made her smile; there were at least two Dr Whos with long multicoloured scarves and a complete set of moptop Beatles, as well as someone dressed in a red phone box made of cardboard.

Still chuckling at the sight, Buffy went to get herself a drink in the next room. Xander was standing nearby, wearing his normal work gear, and having an animated conversation with the Indian girl who had organised the party. He saw Buffy and gesticulated wildly for her to come and join him.

"You look great, Buffy," he said, looking her over with appreciation. Buffy smiled at the compliment and wondered if Spike would feel the same way when he saw her. Perhaps it would even make him forget about how 'wrong' he thought they were for each other. Xander indicated the girl beside him. "Buffy, this is Amrita. I don't know if you've met before."

"We haven't. Hiya," said the girl with a bright smile. She was wearing a scarlet sari and enough golden jewellery to put Mister T to shame. Which was an incredibly outdated simile and the kind of thing Buffy's mother would have said. "So you're Buffy. I hear you're Spike's ex. He's a pet, inne?"

"Yeah, I guess--" Buffy caught Xander's eye. "But you know, kinda not with the whole 'pet' thing seeing as we're exes and all."

Amrita nodded. "Yeah, he told me it was all over. Mind you, I reckon he still fancies you. Thinks you're the greatest thing since sliced bread, the way he goes on about you. But he told me about his dark past, and I think you're probably better off without him. Can't trust them dodgy types to stay on the straight and narrow. He's very fit, though." She grinned at Xander. "Don't worry, mate, you're very fit too."

She offered to get Xander a drink and headed for the drinks table, her jewellery chinking as she swayed her hips to the music from the other room. Buffy turned to look Xander over with a critical eye.

"Fit isn't a word I'd use to describe you," she admitted, before realising how callous that sounded. "I-I mean, not that--"

Xander was too busy admiring Amrita's gyrating hips from a distance to notice Buffy's slight. "Apparently, 'fit' means 'hot' in British-speak. It's weird. I always thought British people were all like Giles and Wesley. You know, stuffy, pompous, kinda old-fashioned."

"Oh yes," said Buffy, deadpan. "Because all of that describes Spike just perfectly. Speaking of British people, who are you supposed to be?"

"Some cartoon character called Bob the Builder." He looked down at his checked shirt and jeans. The ensemble was completed with a hardhat. "I was going to come as James Bond, but Amrita thought this was more me. Not sure what to make of that. She's big with the British sarcasm; I'm never sure what she's really thinking."

Buffy was amused. "Sounds like a reverse Anya."

"No, more like Anya with all of Spike's snark. Not big on the demon thing, though, which is a refreshing change." He smiled at Buffy. "Your costume looks really great. Who are you?"

"Erm... A James Bond girl?" Xander didn't seem convinced, so Buffy changed the subject. "Speaking of Spike, where is he? And Willow?" she added, in case he thought she was only interested in seeing Spike.

"They're dancing." He waved toward the club section, then gave her a sharp look. "Tell me, Buffy; are you still interested in Spike?"

"No! Yes. Well, maybe," said Buffy, caught unawares by the question. "Spike and I have made our peace, and I've forgiven him. So we're starting off with a clean slate. And that's kinda none of your business, anyway."

Xander lowered his eyes. "I know it's not my business, but Spike is in a bad way, and I don't want to see him get hurt."

Buffy was about to ask him about this curious statement when Amrita came back with the drinks. Unable to find out what had caused Xander's change of attitude, she turned away and went to look for the others.

The people in the club room were performing a silly dance to an energetic song Buffy vaguely recognised. It involved bending down and jumping up, which was quite a challenge for the guy dressed as a telephone booth. Observing the multicoloured crowd, it took Buffy a while to realise that Spike was in the middle, jumping up and down like the rest of them, and looking as if he was having a great time. She couldn't help laughing; she'd never seen him dance before, and this song really didn't do much for anyone's dignity.

Spike's costume was a predictable choice. His glasses were nowhere in sight; he was wearing a Union Jack T-shirt and his ubiquitous jeans; his hair was dyed black and coifed into uneven spikes; his nails painted and his eyes circled with black eyeliner. The return to his punk look, albeit minus the slicked-back peroxide, reminded Buffy of the days when he was her formidable opponent, the one vampire she enjoyed fighting with above all others.

"I get knocked down, but I get up again
You ain't never gonna keep me down"

Buffy smiled at the appropriate lyrics. Getting the chip, falling in love with the Slayer, becoming human, suffering all the indignities of the previous winter. Every time life dealt him another blow, Spike just got up and kept on fighting. She watched his narrows hips moving to the music, shimmying sexily towards... Willow? Buffy barely recognised her friend. Black wig, heavy eye shadow, encased from head to toe in a leather catsuit; she looked like Vamp Willow and Darth Willow rolled into one. Just a costume, Buffy told herself. Just a very disturbing costume. And only slightly less disturbing than the sexy way she was dancing with Spike.

Buffy's pang of jealousy turned into disappointment when she also noticed that Spike was smoking. Then her heart sank right to the pit of her stomach when she realised he was holding the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, and had just handed it back to the person beside him. Shocked and disappointed, Buffy turned away.

She got herself another drink, then leaned against the wall and watched the crowd for a while. One girl had come as the golden woman from Goldfinger and was wearing little more than a golden bikini and a lot of glitter. The telephone box was trying to make conversation with a woman in school uniform. The music changed to a modern disco tune, but Spike was still dancing with Willow and another girl Buffy didn't recognise. And a guy who might as well have had 'I Am Gay' tattooed on his forehead, and seemed to have designs on Spike's ass. Not that she could blame him.

"It's murder on the dance floor
But you better not steal the moves, DJ
Gonna burn this goddamn house right down"

Again with the appropriateness. Murderers on the dance floor, banding together and flirting while she stood on the side like an old maid. Buffy shook her head. This was ridiculous. So what if Spike was misbehaving; it didn't mean she wouldn't have fun. She put her glass down and threw herself into the fray. She was young, pretty and desirable, damn it. How could Spike resist her?

A delighted smile lit up Spike's face when he noticed her dancing towards him. Willow grinned as well, and moved back to dance with the other girl. Spike's hips swayed in rhythm with Buffy's as she approached. He leered at her, his lips parting as he ran his tongue along his top teeth. Buffy felt a surge of tenderness and desire at his lustful expression, but then repressed it with severity when she remembered why he looked so happy. He was high. She made no effort to hide her disgust at that thought.

Spike sensed her change of mood. Unable to speak to her over the din of the music, he frowned, returning her scowl with puzzlement. Buffy turned away to dance with the gay man, who seemed happy enough to oblige as long as he could keep staring at Spike. A quick glance over her shoulder told Buffy that her ex was not at all pleased. It took another two songs before Spike's patience ran out. He touched Buffy's arm gently, trying to get her attention. When she deigned to look at him, his face was contorted with anger. Given his reaction to Buffy's cold-shoulder treatment, she was surprised all he had done was tap her gently. He nodded toward the other room. Buffy hesitated, and then followed him out of the makeshift disco.

"What's going on?" he demanded, looking at her with bewildered black-rimmed eyes.

"You tell me."

"That's not very helpful," he growled, struggling to control his temper.

Spike's self-control made Buffy feel very contrary. "You're the one who wanted to stop dancing."

"You had your back to me!"

"Well, excuse me!" She put her hand on her hips. "You were dancing with Willow, I was dancing with your gay friend. Ergo, perfectly good reason to have my back to you."

"You're jealous because I was dancing with Willow?" Spike laughed. "You need your head examined!"

"She's done up like some kind of new Drusilla and I'm the one who needs my head examined?" As she spoke, Buffy was aware that this statement wasn't going to win her the argument.

"A new Drus-- Buffy, she's Emma Peel from The Avengers!" He laughed at her again and headed for the other room. Buffy stared at him for a moment; who was 'Emma Peel' anyway?

"I take back what I said," she called after him. "You're not a good guy, you're just a creep who takes drugs." Again with the lame statements. "I saw you! You said you weren't going to drink and smoke anymore, and now you're doing drugs?"

Spike spun towards her and rolled his eyes. "It was just a spliff, Slayer. It's not as if I'm going to be injecting my toes next week if I have one drag off a reefer!" He shook his head. "For fuck's sake, since I've been human, I've given up smoking, I haven't drunk so much as a beer, and I'm a bloody eunuch. Give the dog a bloody bone, Buffy."

"That doesn't mean you have to take drugs!" exclaimed Buffy, trying to keep her voice down to avoid attracting too much attention.

"Christ, I can tell you grew up in the Eighties," sneered Spike. "I'm having fun, love. Not that you'd know the meaning of the word." He looked her over with disdain. "You didn't even have fun when we were having sex."

"What?"

"You'd get this frown on your face, like you were thinking 'Insert part A into slot B, then stimulate part C'," he said, mimicking Buffy's accent.

She stared at him in disbelief. "That is so not true! And I totally know how to have fun."

"Oh yeah?" Spike lifted an eyebrow at her. "I've been living at your house what-- Two months? And the most fun you've had is a night at the Bronze with Xander Harris!"

Buffy could feel her bottom lip quivering. "You bastard."

"Oh, yeah, that's right. I forgot." Spike was really furious now. "It's always my fault. Every bloody thing." He shook his head. "Just don't let the beams in my eye make you forget the motes in yours."

"What does that mean?"

Spike rolled his eyes again. "It means you should have paid more attention in school, for a start. And it means..." He looked around, as if he was debating what he should say to her. "It means I might be a bloody ex-demon, but you're no saint yourself. And-- Oh, bollocks, I'm not talking to you about this now."

He turned and started to walk away. Buffy grabbed his arm. "Hey! I'm not finished with you."

Spike twisted his arm out of her grasp and shoved her away roughly. A few people in the room turned to look at them, although fortunately, Willow and Xander were nowhere to be seen. Staggering back, Buffy lost her temper. She couldn't punch him because he was human, so she resorted to a slap on his arm.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his arm like a petulant child. "You want to know what's wrong? That's what's wrong. You using me as your fucking punching bag cum dildo every time you feel an itch." His face was flushed with rage. "Do you think I like this? Being weak and feeble, reduced to half a man? I've lost my strength, my invulnerability, my immortality. Can't fight, can't shag. Can't sleep. Trying my best to be good, working hard, no drinking, no smoking. What's left for me? Being your lapdog again?"

"You chose that life!" exclaimed Buffy. "I didn't ask you to become human. You're the one who went off half-cocked and came back alive."

Spike raised his hands in frustration. "I'm not complaining about being bloody human. I'm complaining that you're pursuing me just because you want a roll in the hay, when I have a million other things to worry about. And when I say no, you start knocking me around again!"

"I'm not knocking you around! It's just that I-- I don't know how-- I can't--" Buffy felt tears stinging her eyes. "I don't know how to do this."

"Oh, God. Don't cry," said Spike, his anger immediately vanishing. He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her to a quieter spot. "Buffy, please. Please don't cry." He cupped her face in his hand, sounding a lot as if he was about to start crying himself. "Please don't let me make you cry."

"I'm not crying!" She swallowed hard and gave him her best Buffy glare. She leaned against his chest. "Oh, I hate you!"

Before Buffy knew quite what was happening, she had raised her face to his, and her lips were touching Spike's, their tongues entwined in a deep kiss. His hands embraced her waist while her arms encircled his neck, both of them conspiring to pull her up his body. She hooked her legs around his hips as he shoved her against the wall. This wasn't the right place to be doing this; she could hear voices behind Spike, people walking by and staring at them. Detaching one arm from his neck, Buffy fumbled behind her for a doorknob she could see out of the corner of her eye. She turned it, and the two of them stumbled out into the garage, colliding with the side of a car.

Spike placed Buffy on the cold metal hood, still kissing her mouth and neck, his hands now pulling at her clothes, trying to hitch up her skirt. Buffy slipped her hands under his Union Jack T-shirt to run her fingers up and down the cleft of his spine. God, she wanted him. She had forgotten just how much she had missed this. Parting her legs further, Buffy slid to the edge of the hood and rubbed herself against the hard seam of Spike's jeans. Too many clothes. She pulled her hands out from under his shirt and started to unbuckle his belt.

He caught her hands and took a step back. Still breathless and flushed with desire, he lowered his eyes and shook his head. Surprised by the unexpected change of behaviour, Buffy slid off the hood and ran her hands up his chest.

"Spike, what's wrong?"

He caught one of her hands and pulled it to his crotch. She could feel the rigid texture of the thick denim, but only soft flesh inside. "That's what's wrong," he said through clenched teeth. "Mechanical problem." He released her and headed for the door.

"Hey, it's okay," she said. "I remember you told me. Resurrection side effect." She smiled, although he wasn't looking at her. "At least I know it isn't because you don't want me."

"No. It's because you didn't want me."

Spike placed Buffy on the cold metal hood, still kissing her mouth and neck, his hands now pulling at her clothes, trying to hitch up her skirt. Buffy slipped her hands under his Union Jack T-shirt to run her fingers up and down the cleft of his spine. Parting her legs further, she slid to the edge of the hood and rubbed herself against the hard seam of Spike's jeans. Too many clothes. She pulled her hands out from under his shirt and started to unbuckle his belt.

He let her ease him out of his jeans, grinning lecherously when she started to stroke his hard erection. He grabbed her head and kissed her hard, his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth, making her dizzy with passion. Buffy let out a cry of surprise when he tore open the top of her dress, uncovering her breasts.

He slid his hands under her skirt, pulling her pantyhose and underwear downwards, exposing Buffy's naked buttocks to the cold surface of the car hood. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her against his naked groin, his erection rubbing against her pubic mound. Buffy threw her head back with a loud moan, then another, each one louder than the last as he slid inside her and kissed her and stroked her and thrust into her until he made... her... come. Oh. Just like that. God, yes, just like that.

Buffy caught her breath and wiped her sticky hand on the bed covers. She looked at the sloping ceiling above her and thought back on the events of that evening. Spike wanted her and she wanted Spike, but they couldn't have sex. It was like Angel all over again. Only this time, the problem was physical rather than metaphysical. Or maybe it was psychological. Maybe he was afraid she'd hurt him, just like Xander said.

She sat up in bed when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Spike was home at last. Checking that the pyjamas she was wearing were decent, Buffy slipped out into the corridor. He had only just gone into his room; the door was still ajar.

"Spike?" whispered Buffy, pushing the door open so that she could look into the bedroom.

He was sitting on the bed taking his boots off. He glanced at her, then continued to undress without a word, starting with his sweater and T-shirt.

"Look, about tonight--" she started.

"Yeah, me too," he interrupted.

Buffy leaned against the door frame. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." He rubbed his eyes, smudging the mascara and eyeliner onto his cheeks. "Look, pet, it's late and these new contacts are killing my eyes. Can we do this some other time?"

"Yeah, sure." She put her hand on the door handle, ready to pull it closed. "Just... I want you to know. I don't want to hurt you."

He looked at her sharply, and for a moment, she was afraid he was going to bring up the past again. Of course, he'd never wanted to hurt her either, and they both knew how that had ended. But he lowered his eyes again and said nothing.

Maybe he was right; they could talk about this another day. Buffy pulled the door towards her.

"Goodnight, Spike."

-3-

"This is the most pointless occupation in the universe."

Buffy kept her eyes closed. She had been enjoying a nice doze in the sunshine before Spike interrupted her sleep. She assumed that he was talking to Willow anyway, since the former witch was lying beside him.

"Well, I'm not Miss Happy Beach Person either," she heard Willow say. "I mean, sunbathing doesn't turn me into a suntan beach babe. More like a whole lot of sunburn and freckles babe."

Buffy heard Spike chuckle. "Can I just point out that this thing was your idea?"

"Hey, it rained all summer in England! I got homesick for the whole sunshine and beachy thing. Besides, sunshine is good for you."

"Well, I can think of more productive things to do with my time. But if you say it's good for me." There was a pause. "I like your bathing costume, by the way. Electric blue. Makes a change from the pink fluff you usually wear."

"I kinda don't feel very pink and fluffy these days. But thanks. I like your bathing costume too. Very brief briefs."

"Yeah," said Spike with a chuckle. "But somehow, I don't think seeing me in this ridiculous bathing suit is going to reverse the whole carpet munching thing, is it?"

Startled by his question, Buffy's eyes fluttered open for a moment. He was lying two towels away from her, with Willow on his other side. Spike in a Speedo was not a sight Buffy was used to. She had seen him entirely naked, and she had seen him entirely clothed. But mostly naked with only his privates concealed was something different. After a good look at him, Buffy closed her eyes again, intent on resuming her nap. And not thinking about Spike's briefs; especially after last night.

"Well, let's leave aside the whole 'carpet munching' thing," said Willow hastily. "Tell me, Spike, have you been in the sun, like ever? You're really white."

"Not really, no. It wasn't the done thing back when I was human. Hmm. I suppose I am rather white compared to everyone else." He chuckled. "You'd think I had spent the last 120 years lurking in dark, dank places. I look a bit like a mushroom."

"Well, you're gonna be a real fried mushroom if you don't have some kind of protection." Willow rummaged in her bag. "I have some really good suntan lotion that'll stop you from burning. I use it all the time. Here, I'll do your back. You can do the rest."

Temptation proved too irresistible; Buffy opened one eye again to see what was happening. Spike was now lying on his front, while Willow rubbed the suntan lotion into his back. Buffy watched as she ran her hands up and down his spine, kneading his shoulders, rubbing his white skin in large circular motions. Spike's back looked like marble in the bright sunlight.

"Oh, bloody hell, this is nice," murmured Spike. "Can you be my personal masseuse from now on?"

Willow laughed. "I don't think so. Your boobs aren't big enough."

"Damn. Women get all the luck these days." He shifted his head to look up at her. "So you're a breast woman, huh?"

"I guess I am," said Willow with a grin. "Cause, see, I've only got little boobs. Kinda non-existent boobs, really. Gotta compensate."

"Oh, come on, they're not that bad," Spike assured her; Buffy could tell he was looking at her chest. "Mind you, from my point of view as a guy: tits! And you pushed them up nicely last night. Just shows that size isn't everything."

So much for the idea he hadn't been flirting with Willow the previous night. He'd obviously been interested enough to notice her breasts! Buffy closed her eyes, trying to control her jealousy. Willow was gay, Spike was impotent; they were just being friendly, she told herself.

"Oh, that's the chicken fillet effect," said Willow, laughing. "And no, not the edible kind. These ones." Buffy heard Willow rooting around in her bag again. She presumably pulled out one of the plastic pouches. "Here. They're like the implants women get put in their boobs, only you put them in your bra. They're great. And as an added bonus, if you throw them at a wall, they stick. Kinda like Play-Doh."

"Interesting. Though you do realise you've just handed me something you normally wear on your tits, right?" Spike chuckled. "Personally, I'm more of a leg man anyway. First thing I noticed when I finally got to see a naked lady. Wow. Legs. Nice pair on Sleeping Beauty over there."

Unable to stand any more of this, Buffy sat up. "Lying right here, and kinda hearing everything you're saying!"

Willow looked guilty and pulled away with haste, but Spike drew himself up on his elbows and grinned at Buffy. His dyed black hair was disarrayed and had gone curly in the sea breeze, giving him a relaxed look that would have thrilled Buffy if she weren't so mad at him. Fortunately for him, he chose to say nothing.

"I'm just putting some suntan lotion on him before he turns into a lobster," said Willow. "I mean a boiled lobster, obviously, because a living lobster would be kind of blue and... I think I'll go see what the others are doing."

Willow got up and headed towards Xander, who was hanging out with some of his friends from work. Dawn had met up with a group of her high school friends and was playing volleyball with them further away. Buffy half-regretted the days when her little sister's main ambition had been to hang out with the Scoobies, but on the other hand, the fact that Dawn had friends of her own was a good thing. It meant she was growing up and not constantly interfering in her big sister's life.

"What was all that about?" asked Buffy, turning back towards Spike.

He shrugged. "Just talking, that's all."

"About sex!"

Spike sighed and sat up. "I've got to treat it like something normal. That's what Giles said. I'm not a pervert."

"I never said you were a pervert, Spike. I'm just accusing you of flirting with my best friend."

"Well, I'm not," he said sharply. "Might as well accuse me of flirting with Xander. And anyway, I'm not your bloody property, you know."

He poured some suntan lotion on his hands and rubbed it into his arms. Buffy's anger abated when she realised that she had genuinely hurt his feelings. Besides, the whole jealous of Willow thing hadn't really worked out the previous night.

"I don't think you're my property," she said in a little voice.

Spike stopped what he was doing and looked at her, though she couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses. "What's it all about, Buffy? Why are you after me?"

"I'm not 'after' you. I just want... you."

Spike looked away. "Yeah, you want me to fuck your brains out again. Well, I can't do that anymore. So I suppose you'll just have to be content with treating me like a human being."

"You think I don't treat you like a human being?" asked Buffy, wide-eyed. "Why, what did I do wrong?"

"You want to have sex with me. It's revolting."

Buffy was aware that her voice was getting smaller and smaller. "You think I'm revolting?"

"No, I'm revolting," he snapped. "Me wanting you. It's disgusting."

"No, it isn't," said Buffy. She crawled over to the towel next to him, and put her hand on his shoulder. "My God, Spike, you can't beat yourself up forever for one minute of your existence."

He hung his head, shaking it slightly like a rueful schoolboy. "It's not as if the rest of my existence makes me feel particularly good about myself."

Buffy rubbed his shoulder gently, trying to think of something comforting to say. But what could console a man with 120 years of blood on his hands? For want of a better solution, she prepared to give him a happy, cheery speech about the good person he had become. She was interrupted before she even started; Xander came to join them, splashing them with water like a wet dog.

"Hey, guys," he said; he was carrying a surfboard under one arm. "We're thinking about doing some surfing. You wanna come?"

Buffy shook her head, annoyed by the interruption, but Spike sprang to his feet. "Sounds brilliant. I've never been surfing!"

"It's not funny, you know. I'm in pain."

Buffy exchanged a glance with Willow, and the two of them giggled. Sitting between them on the Summers' couch, Spike let out a melodramatic sigh. He was wearing nothing but his ridiculously small Speedo, and his shoulders and legs were streaked with irregular patches of sunburn.

"Well," said Buffy, rubbing after-sun lotion into his red and white shoulders. "You gotta admit there is some irony to you getting sunburn on your first day in the sun."

"But just think how handsome you'll look with a tan," said Willow, applying lotion to the other side of Spike. She smiled at Buffy to indicate that there was nothing serious about the comment.

Spike strained to look at his back. "Looks more like I'll have a tan in all the places I missed with the sunscreen."

"It'll certainly be a bold new look for you," said Buffy cheerfully. "But look at it on the bright side. There aren't many guys out there with a stripy tan."

Willow laughed. "You could be Zebra Spike!"

"Zebra?" he repeated, though he pronounced it 'zeh-bra'. "Bloody hell. Can't you at least call me Tiger Spike?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know anything about that," said Willow with a coy smile.

Spike looked from one woman to the other, taking in their light summer dresses and bare legs. "You know, this is every man's fantasy. Getting oiled up by a pair of scantily-clad beauties. And I can't even enjoy it because I'm in too much pain!"

Giles came in from the kitchen, carrying a cup of tea. He had dropped by shortly after the beach party returned, explaining that he wanted to talk to Spike. Buffy was pleased to see her former Watcher take such a great interest in her would-be boyfriend. It confirmed her belief that what Spike had done for her was amazing.

Giles smiled when he saw the state Spike was in.

"Oh dear. It's not a good idea to go out in the Californian sun when you haven't seen the sun in 150 years."

"You know the saying, 'Mad dogs and Englishmen'," said Spike with a grin. "I notice you carefully avoided the beach, sunny Jim. You should have come along. We had a laugh, did some surfing. I love surfing. Better than killing demons any day."

"But a lot more pointless," declared Buffy. For some obscure reason, Slayer strength and coordination didn't help when it came to balancing on a board. A fear of drowning was a bit inconvenient too; Buffy had spent the whole afternoon with her feet firmly on the ground.

"Oh, ah, I'm not much of a beach person, really," said Giles. "Besides, I had some research to do."

Spike looked worried. "Found anything interesting?"

"Only that vampires who have become human are a rare species." He sat on the chair opposite the couch. "I haven't been able to secure any more details on Darla. The people who brought her back are not very forthcoming, and I was unable to contact Angel."

"You tried to call Angel?" exclaimed Buffy, annoyed that he hadn't discussed this with her first.

"We really don't need to drag the bloody poof into this," said Spike.

Giles raised his hand to calm them both down. "As I said, I was unable to talk to him. The young lady I did talk to was very helpful, but everything she knew about Darla seemed to be second hand information. I had better luck with Wesley, who is going to e-mail me some documents. I gather he isn't working with Angel anymore."

"Never mind about that," said Spike. "Why are you so keen to find out about Darla?"

"Well, she is the most recent case of humanity among vampires," said Giles. "Studying her example might tell us if there's any risk of side-effects."

"What, like diseases I had as a human?" asked Spike. "First thing I did when I got here was get a health check. No TB, no other assorted nasties I might have picked up as a vampire. Clean bill of health."

Buffy was surprised. "I didn't know you went to see a doctor."

"You remember that cough I had?" Spike shrugged. "I was worried."

"You had TB when you were human?" asked Willow.

Spike ran his hand through his hair. "Not that I know of. It's just my--" He glanced at Giles, then lowered his eyes. "My sister died of TB. And believe me, it wasn't Dame Aux Camélias stuff either." He sighed. "So anyway, there's nothing to worry about as far as old Great-Granny having a syphilitic heart condition is concerned. I'm clean as a whistle, me."

Giles nodded. "However, I do find it interesting that the last case of humanity was in your vampiric ancestor."

"Makes you wonder about the demons you've all had," said Willow. "I mean, the Master sired Darla, who sired Angel, who sired Drusilla, who sired Spike."

"I think we all know the begats of my family," said Spike. It was a joke that only Giles chuckled at as Willow continued.

"Well, leaving aside the Master, who got killed; two of you ended up human, and one is a vampire with a soul. Not to mention the whole Connor thing. Kind of a weird family in the vampire world."

"Maybe the Master sired too many vampires and his demon became weakened or something," said Buffy. The others all looked at her as if she had sprouted horns. "Okay... maybe not."

Spike smiled at her. "Maybe not, no." He turned back to Giles. "I don't have any answers for you on that count, mate. Maybe it's just a coincidence."

"Yes, indeed..." said Giles in a voice which suggested he wanted to give it more thought. "When you're ready, I'd like to talk to you in private, Spike. There's still so much I want to know."

Spike gave Willow and Buffy a long-suffering look. "Oh, well. I'll see you lovely ladies later, when Watcher boy has finished poking around in my head." He grinned and rubbed his hands as he stood up. "I'm sure I can think up a few more home truths about vampires that the Council really doesn't want to know."

"I mean, none of the platforms are straight; there's this big gaping hole between you and the Tube train. So it's all over the place: written on the platform, on the trains." Willow waved her hand to mimic writing on a wall. "They even have announcements all the time saying 'Mind the gap!'. It's like they're terrified you're going to fall into the hole."

"Maybe someone did, and they got sued," suggested Dawn. "Like McDonald's who have to put 'Caution: this drink is hot' on the side of their coffee cups."

All the American Scoobies were sitting in the living-room while Giles and Spike had their talk. Xander laughed and finished off his drink.

"You'll have to ask our resident Limeys next door why everything is curvy in England," he said, nodding towards the closed dining-room door on the other side of the hallway. "I wonder what's up with the counselling sessions, by the way. Why is Giles so interested in Spike?"

"Because the idea of a soulless vampire wanting to be a mere mortal again totally blows his mind?" suggested Willow. "The whole vampire looking for redemption thing kinda doesn't fit in with everything the Council says about vamps."

Xander shrugged. "Yeah, but it just means Spike is weird. It doesn't mean other vampires can be redeemed. Spike's had the chip, the Slayer obsession, years of hanging around us. Guess that can really change a vamp."

"But didn't Giles always say that vamps couldn't change?" said Dawn. "If Spike could change, even if it was just because of things people did to him against his will, then maybe other vamps have that possibility too and--"

"I did a straw poll," interrupted Buffy before they got a chance to argue the advisability of staking vampires on sight. "None of the vampires I asked were interested in changing. So not staking them just means lots of dead bodies. Anyone want more drinks?"

Buffy took their assorted glasses and mugs and went into the kitchen. The last thing she wanted was a lengthy debate on whether her prey could be saved. She was fixing the drinks when she noticed that the dining-room door was open. Even though their voices were soft, she could just hear what Giles and Spike were saying.

"...and I thought 'I could have this'," Spike was saying. "Ready made family, new life in Sacramento with a clean slate. She was a nice girl, you know, and the boy was adorable." Buffy stared at the door, her heart suddenly cold with fear. Did he really regret letting Melissa go? She was a normal woman with a normal life; something Buffy would never have.

"But it would have been a lie," concluded Spike.

"Because you love Buffy?" asked Giles.

"Because I didn't love Melissa. And because I don't deserve that. God, I don't deserve anything. I hate being human, and I'm so ashamed that I hate it. I shouldn't feel like this. Buffy's right, I chose this path, and I shouldn't be going around whinging about it."

"Do you want to be a vampire again?"

There was a pause. "It was simpler. Before the chip, before Buffy, it was all very simple. There was just feeding, fucking and fighting. It was-- I don't know how to describe it, really. Being a vampire; it's like taking cocaine or something. You feel like you're the most powerful being in the universe and it's exhilarating. You're just so free. The kill, the human blood makes you free.

"But when that's gone, and it's just you... It's awful, like the worst cold turkey. You're just back to being nothing. Ordinary." He sighed. "It's been like that since the chip. Now it's a bit better, because being human makes me so busy, most of the time, I don't even remember the high. There's bills and work and worrying about whether I'll ever get it up again. Vaccinations, hunger pangs, and pain all the time; God, I can't bloody lift a finger without hurting something. My body's gurgling and thumping and fighting me. And more people want things from me than I even talked to while I was a vampire. But it's hard. When I remember how things were, it's a struggle. And that doesn't make sense. It's what I wanted."

"I can understand your conflicting feelings," said Giles gently. "It's very difficult to relinquish power once you've had it. But you mustn't stop the struggle. It will be worth it."

"Really?" Spike didn't sound convinced.

"It depends what you want, Spike. Do you want the fighting and fucking?" The word sounded strange coming from Giles. "Or do you want to be useful? Living here on the Hellmouth, knowing what you know about the demon underworld, you have a unique opportunity to make a difference."

"What, as an ordinary Joe like Xander?"

"As it happens, Xander was in a position to save the whole world last spring. You shouldn't underestimate the power of a human being. What you have now, most of all, is the power to choose. You can become good, you can become evil; you can even go back to being a vampire. The choice is yours."

"I made my choice when I was a vampire. I'm no coward; I'm going to stick this through."

"Good decision." There was a pause. "Do you want some more tea?"

Buffy realised she hadn't finished preparing the drinks for the others; she didn't have time to get them done before Giles walked in.

"Hey," she said, trying not to look too flustered. "How's the patient?"

"He's getting better, but is still having some doubts about his life as a human."

"He wants to be a vampire again?" said Buffy with concern, unable to conceal the panic she felt at what she had overheard. If Spike became a soulless vampire again, she would have to stake him.

Giles shook his head. "No. He is struggling, but I think he's doing a good job of adjusting to human life."

"Good, because I like him as a human."

"I know. And so does he," said Giles, turning away to turn on the kettle. Buffy could see a little smile on his lips. "You were right. He is quite a pleasant young man without the demon."

Pleased by this reluctant blessing from her former Watcher, Buffy carried the drinks in to her friends. Her smile faded when she found that Spike had slipped into the living room. He was talking to Willow, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh. Buffy had to struggle hard to conceal her jealousy, but the conniving smile they exchanged when he returned to the other room felt like a stab in the heart.

Buffy knocked on the Rosenbergs' door. After a while, the door opened to reveal Willow apparently wearing only a long, loose shirt. She stared at Buffy, visibly surprised, and not very pleased.

"Oh, Buffy, hey!" she said nervously. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you." They stared at each other for a moment. "Are your parents here?"

"No, they're in South Africa."

Buffy rocked on her heels, feeling awkward. "Wow. That's far away."

"Yeah."

"So, can I come in?"

There was a noise from within the house, Willow looked behind her and grinned at Buffy. "Of course you can. Sorry. Not thinking very clearly. Kinda all zonked out with the studying thing. And other stuff."

She stepped aside to let Buffy in. The reason for her nervousness became apparent when Spike came out from the living-room. He was pulling on his T-shirt. Buffy felt as if her heart had been pulled out. Seeing Spike with Anya had been bad enough, but this...

"Hello, luv," said Spike. He raised one eyebrow, an amused twinkle in his eye. "You're not seriously thinking what I think you're thinking?"

Buffy crossed her arms. "And what do you think I'm thinking?"

"That you're thinking something completely wrong?" suggested Willow. "Buffy, I was giving him a massage."

"And in what way is that not what I'm thinking?" exclaimed Buffy, panic rising in her chest.

Spike's amusement vanished. "Me, impotent. Willow, gay. Both of us not bloody stupid."

"Spike," said Willow gently. "Don't you have to see Xander about that thing?"

"Yeah." He gave Buffy a dirty look as he passed her. "I'll see you later."

When Spike was gone, Willow pulled Buffy into the living-room. It smelled of cigarette smoke. Buffy soon realised why; Willow sat on the couch and rummaged in her purse, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a golden lighter.

"Don't look at me like that, Buffy," said Willow as she lit up. "It's a lesser evil, you know. Can't kill anyone when I'm on a nicotine high!" She went over to open the window and sat on the sill. "Except from passive smoking I guess. But really, the worst that can happen is I'll get lung cancer, right?"

"That's Spike's lighter," said Buffy, suddenly realising.

Willow smiled. "Yeah, well, he doesn't smoke anymore, so he gave it to me."

"So what is this? Is Spike sleeping with all my friends now?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. In fact, Spike, Anya, and I are having a ménage à trois. We've tried to convince Xander to join, but you know how uptight he can be." She shook her head. "Buffy, I wouldn't sleep with your ex even if I wanted to. And believe me, I don't want to. Not after Tara. So keep your jealousy to yourself, Buffy. Spike and I don't deserve that."

"I'm sorry," said Buffy, touched by the hurt in Willow's voice.

"You just don't realise how harsh you can be sometimes." Willow blew a plume of smoke out of the window. "Spike and I have a lot in common, you know. We're both murderers; we both did our loved ones a terrible wrong. At least he had an excuse. Soulless demon with a lover who treated him like that."

Buffy swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"

"I read your mind. When I was all postal, I could hear everyone's thoughts. Even Spike's. I know everything about you two." She shook her head, her hard expression softening into the features of the Willow of old. "I'm sorry. Buffy, I shouldn't throw that in your face. It's none of my business. But Spike's hurting, and I don't like seeing that. He loves you, but he's terrified you'll hurt him again. And he thinks he'll hurt you too. He's just one big pile of fear."

"I know," admitted Buffy. "Willow, I don't know what to do. I want to help him, and I don't know how." She glanced at her friend. "Did he tell you what happened at the party?"

"Not everything. But he said you kissed. And he explained about the impotence." Willow drew on her cigarette. "Giles says it's probably just psychosomatic. He's so ashamed and afraid of his sexuality that he's subconsciously trying to avoid it completely. I guess being around you doesn't help."

There was that feeling of dread again. "You think I make things worse?"

"No, sweetie," said Willow, throwing her cigarette out of the window and coming to sit beside Buffy. "But... I think some of it is about you. The way you used him, what he did to you. He thinks sex is the only thing women have ever wanted from him, and at the same time, he thinks it's the worst thing about him."

"And I'm both the girl who used him for sex, and the one he tried to rape. God, I'm not surprised he's all conflicted. I didn't think about it that way." Buffy looked down at her hands. "But if it's all my fault, maybe I can make things better."

"You want to get back with him?"

Buffy looked at her. "I guess so. Makes me kinda weird, right?"

"Oh, you've always been weird. But Spike's okay. If you can forgive each other, it can only make you stronger, right? Because you never know what might happen." Her eyes stared into the distance. "If you love each other, you should take what you've got and make the most of it while you can."

-4-

Buffy stood in the back doorway, wiping her muddy feet on the mat and brushing back her wet hair. Loud music was blaring from the radio; oblivious to her presence, Spike was mixing something in a bowl. She watched as he took the spoon he was using and stuck it in his mouth, before plunging it back into the mixture.

"You know that's unhygienic, right?" she said.

He jumped and turned to glare at her. "What are you doing, coming in this way?"

"It's raining," explained Buffy. "Don't really care for mud stains in the front entrance." She kicked off her shoes. "I guess we really did catch the last beach day last weekend."

Buffy looked at Spike, unsure if she should bring up their awkward conversation at the beach. Or indeed their embarrassing encounter at the party. Spike seemed to be similarly afflicted, though he had the advantage of something to do. He was mixing that mixture for all it was worth.

"What are you making?" asked Buffy, deciding that a nice, neutral topic was safer than bringing up their problems.

Spike looked relieved. "A cake. Willow and Xander said they might come over later on, so I thought I'd cook a meal. Well, try to cook a meal." He lifted the lid on a pan that was bubbling on the stove, and peered into it with a dubious expression. "Chances are, we'll be having pizza."

"Pizza is good," said Buffy with a grin, coming nearer to see what he was cooking. It was some kind of brown stew that smelled very unpleasant. "But even if we don't eat it, you'll have made the effort."

Spike nodded. "Exactly. I'll never get what I want if I don't try for it."

He turned towards Buffy as if he were about to say something else. For a moment, he stared into her eyes, an apprehensive look on his face. But then he lowered his gaze again and went back to churning his cake mix. Buffy looked away too. God, this was hard. She thought about her conversation with Willow, and how she and Spike should make the most of what they had. Maybe now was the time to bring their problems out in the open, where they could be stabbed with metaphorical pointy things.

"What are you doing home?" she asked. "Don't you normally work down the docks and at that bar thing?" Okay, so she was a total wuss.

"Ah, well. Decided working down the docks really wasn't my thing, so I jacked it in."

"You left your job? Why?" Buffy hoped this had nothing to do with her complaining that she never saw him.

"Well, you were complaining that you never see me." Oh, crap. Couldn't Spike make a decision for himself for once, instead of always doing as she told him? "It occurred to me that we'd be a lot better off if I got myself a better paid job, so I don't have to work evenings too." He put down the mixing bowl. "Willow helped me make a résumé. It looks really good, considering I only entered the job market a few weeks ago. Just a sec, I'll get it..."

Spike went into the other room and returned with a printed sheet of paper. "There we go, my life story translated into normality."

The résumé was short, but laid out in an elegant typeface; Buffy skimmed over it and laughed. "You're pretending you've got a degree from Magdalen College, Oxford?"

"It's pronounced 'Maudlin', and yep, I followed my father's footsteps to a T." Spike started churning his cake mix again.

"You're serious?" Buffy stared at him. "You really have a college degree?"

He gave her an amused look. "Yes, I really did have a college degree. Don't get too excited; I don't think the ability to translate Latin and Greek comes in that handy these days. But at least it makes it look as if I've been doing something with my short life. Aside from practising martial arts a lot." He pointed at the 'Hobbies' section at the end of the résumé.

Buffy's mind was still on the degree. No wonder he got on so well with Willow; Spike was a closet egg-head. Not a college dropout like herself.

"Look, pet, I'm sorry about the other day and the Willow thing," he said in a soft, earnest voice. "I should have realised it would make you jealous."

That gave her thoughts another direction. She smiled at him. "That's okay. My bad, totally. I mean, you and Willow. So not happening, right?"

"Well, I used to fancy her," said Spike, though he didn't give Buffy time to react to that little titbit of information before adding, "But not now. We've both changed." He tilted his head and smiled at her, his expression hopeful but uncertain. "Besides, I've got someone far better to go for. If she'll have me."

He was staring straight at her; there could be no doubt who he was referring to. Buffy's heart skipped a beat, though she was puzzled.

"I thought you didn't want me anymore," she said. "I mean, you said it would be wrong."

"That was me being noble. Trying to do the right thing." Spike's lips twisted into a wry little smile. "But I've thought about it a bit more. If you want us to make a go of it, despite everything we've been through, then it's not really up to me to decide we're not going to. Not without at least having a chat with you first."

"Good thinking," said Buffy, smiling with delight at the thought that Spike had changed his mind. "Not to mention very mature."

He rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. "Yes, Giles thought so too. Thing is, pet, now I'm human, I can really see how messed up we both were last year. I behaved abominably, and being with me didn't bring out the best in you, either. I'm afraid that might happen again. After all, my only long-term relationship was with Dru, and I don't know if I'm cut out to be a good boyfriend to someone like you." He turned away from her. "Especially if my best feature is currently unavailable."

Buffy caught his arm to pull him back towards her. "That's not your best feature, and I think you'll make a great boyfriend." She smiled. "You're already a good friend. And you know, you had your moments when we were together before. Non-sexual kinds of moments," she added before he could get the wrong idea. "Ones where I saw the real you under all the posturing. But they were just moments back then; now, you're really that person all the time. And I want to be with you. Now we've got a second chance, maybe we can do things differently."

Spike suddenly laughed and wrapped his arms around her. Buffy returned his happy embrace, her heart dancing with the certitude that this was the right thing to do. Everything would be different this time around. Spike kissed her cheek, and God, it made her weak in the knees. His strong arm around her waist, his lips on her face, the smell of his sweat on the old T-shirt he was wearing. This all felt so right.

"Isn't Dawn supposed to be back from school?" asked Spike in a low voice, his lips tickling her ear.

Buffy closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. "She told me she was sleeping over at her friend Imelda's place. DVD night, apparently."

"Oh." Spike brushed Buffy's lower lip with a floury finger. She snaked her tongue out to lick it, then drew it into her mouth, sucking gently. When she opened her eyes to look at him, Spike's face was flushed, his eyes half-closed, his lips parted by his ragged breath. The raw desire on his face made Buffy's entire body tingle.

"I can make love to you, you know," said Spike softly. "I can make you feel good."

"You don't have to." Buffy smiled. "I mean, we don't have to if you can't, you know."

"Get an erection?" His lips curled into a sardonic smirk that was all Old Spike. "Since when did you become so coy? Besides, it won't be that different for you without my willy." He leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "I have nimble fingers, and I doubt breathing will be a major handicap."

Aroused at the very thought of Spike touching her, Buffy laughed and kissed his cheek. She ran her hands up his back, removing them when he winced.

"Sunburn," he explained. "Getting better, but still a bit sore."

Buffy giggled. She had forgotten about the sunburn, even though he had complained about it every time she'd seen him since Sunday. Laying her hands flat on his back to apply as little pressure as possible, Buffy drew her head back slightly, aiming a kiss at his mouth. The phone rang.

"That's bound to be for you," said Spike, looking in the direction of the warbling telephone.

Buffy sighed and disengaged herself from Spike's warm embrace. The phone call was from Xander, explaining that he couldn't come over tonight because he had a hot date with Amrita. Way to kill the mood, thought Buffy, even though the poor man had no idea what he had interrupted.

By the time she had finished talking to him, Spike was back at the stove, adding some ingredients to his stew. He raised his eyebrows at her as if to ask what the phone call was about.

"Xander can't make it," she told him.

"Great. And here I am making food for the five thousand." Spike shrugged. "Oh well, if it's edible, we can always keep it for another day."

"Yeah." The romantic mood was gone. Buffy felt cold, wet and tired. "I'm gonna have a bath. Call me when it's ready."

She had just undressed and was running water into the bathtub when Spike knocked on the door. Smiling at the thought of the lame excuses he might come up with, Buffy put on her bathrobe and opened the door. Maybe he wanted to hop in the bathtub with her.

"It just occurred to me," said Spike, leaning in the doorway with a grin. "We didn't really finish what we were talking about."

"You want to talk some more about sex?" asked Buffy.

"No, I want to have sex," he answered, a twinkle in his eye. "But talking about it is fine, if that's your thing."

Buffy crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? Come a bit closer and I'll show you who wants to talk."

Spike smiled and seemed about to take her up on her offer. But then his smile faded, and he took a step back, his eyes on Buffy's crossed arms. "Maybe later. Actually, I came to tell you dinner will be half an hour."

"I don't stay that long in the bath anyway." She noticed the look on his face. "Spike, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He turned away and headed for the stairs. Buffy looked down at her grey bathrobe, then at the water running into the bathtub, realisation striking her.

"Spike! Come back, I have an idea!" she said, turning the water off.

Buffy ran after him and caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs. Standing on the bottom step, she was exactly level with Spike's face. She held his head in both hands and gently kissed his lips.

"Maybe your problem isn't the resurrection," she said. "Maybe it's just the whole me in the bathroom thing." Spike gave her a 'duh' look, which suggested this was something he had realised a long time ago. Undaunted, Buffy pulled him up the stairs. "We can fix it. I've seen it on TV. When you're traumatised by something, you can be cured by doing the same thing again, only acting out a different ending. So what if instead of fighting you off, I'm all willing and stuff?"

"You're going to fuck me better?" exclaimed Spike when they reached the bathroom. He shook her hand off his. "You're bonkers! There's a bloody good reason that night haunts me; it makes sure I don't bloody do it again!"

Buffy put her hands on her hips. "So what? You're going to be impotent the rest of your human life just because of one minute of your existence as a soulless vampire? I'm not going to let you do this to yourself."

Spike gave her a disdainful look. "Oh well, I'm sorry I can't perform my duties as your walking dildo anymore."

"How can you say that?" exclaimed Buffy, too hurt to be angry. "That isn't what I want from you, Spike. I want the living with you, and the having you around, and you being friends with my friends, and being happy, and... We don't have to have sex. You said you wanted to, and I just want to help. But if you really don't want to-- It's okay. We can have dinner and talk about other things." She reached for the door, ready to close it and return to her bath, but he stopped her.

"I really do want to. If you think it'll help..." Spike sighed and walked into the bathroom. He turned towards her when he had reached the middle of the room, and looked her over with a wan smile. "Can I get you a new bathrobe after this?"

Buffy smiled. "Sure."

Of course, after that argument with Spike, sex was the last thing on her mind. But he was right; you didn't get what you wanted if you didn't at least try. Buffy took a deep breath and stepped forward. Spike instinctively stepped back. The back of his knees bumped into the side of the bathtub and he fell heavily into a sitting position.

"Pet," he said. "I'm not sure this is going to work."

"Are you going to give it a chance or not?" she exclaimed, applying her best bossy Slayer mode to the problem.

He gave her a comical look, but kept his mouth shut as Buffy removed his glasses and started to stroke his face. She ran her hands over his well-defined cheekbones and soft lips; through his black hair that was already fading to brown; down his warm, smooth neck. There she replaced her fingers with her lips, placing a series of soft kisses on his skin, up to the faint mole on his right cheek, and finally back down to his dry lips. She slid out her tongue to wet them.

Spike was breathing hard now. His hands reached for her hips, pulling her closer. Buffy straddled his thigh, her lips still brushing against his, their breaths mingling in the damp bathroom air. She pulled one of his hands into her bathrobe; he obediently cupped and squeezed her breast, flicking his thumb over the nipple while his other hand grasped her hip. Now he was the one lapping at her lips, his wet tongue teasing her mouth open.

Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike's neck and they shared a deep, passionate kiss. He released her breast and slid both arms around her body under the bathrobe, trying to pull her as close as he could. Buffy followed, rubbing herself against the rough material of his jeans. God, this man could turn her on.

"Look at me, baby," she breathed. She buried her hands in his hair and drew his face back. "I want you, Spike. Look how much I want you."

Spike obediently looked. Her bathrobe had fallen open, exposing her breasts and a thin strip of pale stomach. As she slid her hips back down Spike's leg to give him a better view, Buffy laughed at the moisture her arousal had left behind. She lifted herself up to unwrap the cord of her bathrobe, and pulled it apart completely. Her eyes locked on Spike's, Buffy cupped one breast and then ran her hand down her stomach to plunge two fingers into her wet curls. She touched herself lightly, then withdrew her hand as if it were on fire. Too much of that and she would come right now.

She tugged at Spike's T-shirt, encouraging him to remove it, but he stopped her.

"I'm a bit peely." When Buffy started to protest, he shook his head. "No, really. Unless you're turned on by me shedding like a blimming snake, that is."

Right at that moment, Buffy was pretty sure even a skin-shedding Spike would turn her on. But he seemed genuinely squicked himself, so she resigned herself to getting no naked chest of Spike. There were other, unaffected areas to explore anyway; Buffy kneeled between his legs and unzipped his pants.

"It's not-- I'm sorry. It won't--" said Spike. He interrupted himself with a moan and slid his hands through her hair when Buffy ran her tongue down his flaccid penis. Even if it didn't make him erect, this obviously gave him some pleasure. "Oh, pet. You don't have to do this."

"What if I want to?" Buffy gently pinched his foreskin between her top teeth and bottom lip, and looked up at Spike with a mischievous smile. She released him, then twirled her tongue around his penis again. This wasn't so bad. In fact, Mr Floppy was kind of cute. Buffy had never been this intimate with a flaccid penis before.

"Does that feel good? What about this?" She stroked his loose testicles, running her fingers through his dark, fluffy curls. "They're like Chinese stress balls."

Spike nearly fell into the bath with laughter.

"And you said I didn't know how to have fun." Buffy looked up at him, putting on that wide-eyed innocent look which had always got her what she wanted before. Not so innocent when she was on her knees on the bathroom floor, half naked, dripping wet and horny as hell.

"Oh, bugger this." Spike placed his hands on her shoulders to move her back a little, and slid down to join her on the floor. "I'm going to sort you out, all right."

Buffy lay back on the bathmat, and hooked her fingers into his pants waistband to pull him towards her. Spike smiled and straddled her legs, slipping one hand between them. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"God, baby," she moaned, "Yes. Please, Spike. I want you inside me."

Spike was gone.

Buffy opened her eyes and saw him back into the dresser under the window, holding his pants up while he looked at her in horror. Okay. Clearly not the right thing to say.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Not a good idea," said Spike, trying to sound calm, but looking very agitated. "Maybe we should start with something less frightening. Like dinner?"

Evidently powered by the force of their pheromones, the phone rang again. Spike jumped at the excuse and left by the bedroom door, mumbling about bloody phones while trying to do up his pants.

Defeated, Buffy sat up and wrapped the bathrobe around her, fighting back tears of frustration. She wondered if she could persuade Willow to do another one of those forgetting spells.

By the time Buffy came out of the bathtub, refreshed and ready to face him, Spike was nowhere to be seen. There were potatoes boiling on the stove; the stew was in a casserole in the oven; the cake was rising on the shelf above it; the dining table was set for two. Buffy walked through the rooms on the ground floor, feeling a growing sense of dread. Maybe he had left. After the embarrassing scene in the bathroom, she couldn't blame him.

Buffy's dread was threatening to turn into tears when she heard a noise in the basement. She opened the door and ran halfway down the stairs. Spike was pummelling the punching bag with all his strength. When he heard her enter, he held the bag still and turned to look up at her. Then he went back to his punching.

Without a word, Buffy walked down the stairs. She stood in front of Spike and assumed a defensive position. She was all for letting off steam; a bit of non-lethal wrestling would be just the ticket. It was the only thing that had kept her sane when Angel's curse had kept them apart after his return. Spike hesitated, then flashed a wicked grin at her and lunged forward. Buffy easily side-stepped his attack, but was caught by surprise when he suddenly kicked her feet out from under her. She sat on the floor and glared at him. Spike laughed; he held out his hand to help her up.

"I don't have the strength of a rhinoceros, but at least I know what I'm doing, love. You should train more often." He leaned against the washing machine. "So what was that, an alternative to sex?"

Buffy brushed off the sweatpants and T-shirt she was wearing. "You looked like you needed to let off some steam."

"My steam's all let off. I'd still prefer to be making love, of course, but--" He shrugged.

"I'm sorry it didn't help," said Buffy. Her face felt hot; she was certain that she had turned bright red at the very thought of the embarrassing scene she had put them through in the bathroom. "I guess you were right. It was just psychobabble."

"Well, you did give me some nice new visuals, even if they were a bit blurry without the specs." Spike scratched his ear. "But maybe trying to do it in the bathroom wasn't the best place to start. Perhaps we could try somewhere else and then work our way back up to the whole bathroom thing."

Buffy smiled. "Wanna start with the bedroom?"

"Maybe later." He spread his hands. "Not that working on my sexual problems isn't appealing, but I've been slaving over a hot stove for a while, so I'd rather have dinner first. Also, I'm quite keen on being naked while attempting sex, so the fact that I look like a lump of flaky pastry doesn't help." He grinned. "That was Willow on the phone, by the way. Her parents are back from South Africa, so she can't make it either."

"Oh." Buffy was puzzled. "You'd think she would have known that before she said she'd come over."

"Dawn, Xander, Willow. Sounds like a set-up to me." Spike tilted his head with a tender smile. "Well, if they're that keen on us having dinner together, we might as well oblige."

Buffy tried to control her facial expression as the piece of potato crunched beneath her teeth. There was nothing she hated more than uncooked potato. Okay, so there were actually lots of things she hated more than uncooked potato, but it wasn't her favourite food.

"You really don't have to eat the potatoes," said Spike. "I don't think they're cooked."

"Hmf." Buffy washed the potato down with a sip of white wine. "No, they're not. But the stew is really great." Really salty and the meat was kind of stringy, actually, but she didn't want to hurt Spike's feelings. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. "Okay, edible," she admitted. "Which is good. Took me years to even get to 'edible'."

"Makes sense," said Spike with a good-natured smile. "I was a piss-poor master vampire, and now I'm a piss-poor master chef."

Buffy laughed. They were sitting opposite each other at the dining room table, with a candle between them. The perfect romantic dinner; kind of surreal after everything she and Spike had put each other through, but a very welcome change.

"Actually, I have something for you that might go down a bit better than my potatoes," continued Spike. He went to get an envelope from the sideboard behind him, and handed it to Buffy. "It's rent money. I don't know how much I owe you, so I just made up a sum. I thought it was about time I was contributing more than groceries to this house."

Buffy looked into the envelope. "Spike, this is way too much!"

"I don't think so." He leaned forward and looked at her earnestly. "Thing is, I've had a bit of an epiphany. Now that I have a résumé and a social security card, I've been thinking about the kind of job I should be doing. The ones I've done already are useful, but are they the best I can achieve as an individual? After all, I remember the time I first saw a lightbulb, and I know things about the demon world that even the Council of Watchers doesn't know." He took his glasses off and cleaned them on a corner of his napkin. "And I've realised what I can do to be useful, what no one else can do. Help you do your job."

"You want to be my Watcher?" said Buffy, mesmerised by the idea.

Spike glared at her. "No, I want to be your live-in boyfriend. I'm not planning to ponce around spouting exposition and cleaning my glasses." He lifted one eyebrow and looked down at his napkin. He put his glasses back on. "That's a really contagious tick, you know. Been spending way too much time with Giles. Anyway, yes, I can help with the research, and a little bit of the fighting, but more to the point, I can help with your finances. With my dusty college degree, I can probably blag my way into some pretty good jobs, and then I can support you and Dawn. You wouldn't have to work anymore."

"So what do I get to do? Stay at home and knit?" exclaimed Buffy.

"You get to be the Slayer," said Spike patiently. "Let's face it, Buffy, you're wasting your time answering phone calls. That's not your calling. You save the world. If you don't have to worry about money, you can concentrate on that. You can get another job, something that pays less, perhaps, but that's more congenial. Maybe you can get a grant to go back to college, even."

"And what do you get out of this?"

"The satisfaction of being useful, helping you do one of the most important jobs in the world," said Spike proudly. "And the boyfriend stuff, obviously, if that works out. Which it should do, considering the amount of pain we've had to go through to get this far." He tilted his head to look at her. "What do you think?"

"I think it's a good idea. A generous idea too." She frowned. "But I don't really need the money. Well, you can contribute to bills and stuff, because that's useful, but you don't have to support me like that." She handed back the envelope. "You can buy me something nice, or pay the phone bill, yeah?"

Spike looked hurt and puzzled; he got up to put the envelope back on the sideboard. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's no offence, it's just--" Buffy sighed. "Boy, we're really having problems this evening, huh? I try to give you sex, you try to give me money... I guess you want the sex and I want the money; just not out of the blue like that." She frowned as something occurred to her. "Wait a minute. You have a social security card? I thought that was just for Americans."

Spike laughed and pulled an American passport from the drawer beside him. He sat at the table again and handed it to her. "Had it made last spring. Just a whim; didn't really fancy travelling to Africa on a banana boat, so I thought I'd fly there legit."

"You flew to Africa?" Buffy thought back on an old conversation with Angel. "I thought vampires didn't fly."

"Only the ones who are afraid of flying," said Spike with an evil grin. He knew exactly who she was thinking about.

"Why didn't you get a British passport?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

Spike looked at her as if that was the silliest question he'd ever heard. "Well, for some obscure reason, it's a lot easier to get an American passport in the U.S. than a British one." His expression became more serious. "Thought I might need it if I got what I wanted over there."

Buffy opened the passport and looked at the last page. Her heart missed a beat when she saw the photograph. It had clearly been taken when Spike was still a vampire; his pale skin and peroxide hair faded into the white background, making his scowling dark eyebrows and the shadows on his sunken cheeks stand out in sharp, sinister angles. He was glowering at the camera, his expression full of anger and impatience. This was the face of the creature that had tried to rape her.

Buffy raised her eyes to look at Spike's human face. The weight he had put on had softened the angles of his features, and the dark hair made him look almost ordinary, but he was still the same man. Just as she was the same person as that carefree fifteen-year-old whose smile beamed down from a photograph on the wall. The same person, only older and wiser.

"Not the greatest picture, eh, pet?" said Spike, his eyes downcast. "Still, guess it serves as a before and after thing. Little reminder of what I was. In case I ever forget."

"It's okay," said Buffy, reaching out to take his hand. "At least I know I've seen you at your worst. You've seen me at mine. If we still want each other, it's got to mean something, right?"

A wicked grin illuminated Spike's features. "Yeah, we can't resist our hormones." He squeezed her hand. "I'm glad the others didn't come after all. I get to be all suave and gentlemanly, and you get to eat my crap cooking. Perfect evening."

"Yeah." Buffy sipped her wine. "What I don't get is since when are my friends so interested in us getting together?"

"I don't know," said Spike. "They're probably tired of listening to me talking about you. I think I've bored them all into the ground."

Buffy wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. "You talked to my friends about me?"

"Only in the vaguest possible terms, don't worry," he assured her, raising a calming hand. "It's quite amusing how different their advice was. Xander thinks we should hold off any kind of commitment until we're both absolutely sure it's what we want. Willow thinks we should seize the day and go for it while we still can. Giles thinks you and I may just be getting mature enough for a relationship, but that we should take it slow. I only mentioned it to Dawn once, and she pretended she didn't really care, so I'm not sure what her advice is."

"Wow. Loads of options." Buffy frowned. "I guess Giles is probably the person we should listen to, though."

"Probably. Though it's a bit like getting sex ed from a Catholic priest," said Spike with a grin. "Actually, Giles and Willow are the ones who persuaded me to talk to you about all this. I'd thought about it; just needed a bit of prodding to do it." He sighed. "I don't know. I think we should just play it by ear. If the hormones get too much, we have sex; otherwise, we can just take things one step at a time. It's a blessing in disguise, really. Rushing things didn't work out too well last year."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that," said Buffy.

Spike looked amused. "Takes two to tango, pet." He looked down at his plate. "I know I've cut you out since I came back, Buffy. I haven't felt that I could confide in you, burden you with my problems. Thing is, when I became human again, I realised I had to be my own man before I could be your boyfriend. Otherwise when you fall, you'll just drag me with you, and I want to be the one who pulls you up again. Don't want to push you in further like I did before."

"If we're talking drowning metaphors, I'd say you were more like a lifebelt." Buffy stared into his blue eyes in the flickering candlelight. "But I don't need saving anymore, and I'm glad you're your own man." She lowered her eyes. "I like the man you are."

"I like you too." Spike lifted her hand to his lips. "Don't worry, pet, we haven't come this far to fail now."

-5-

"I think the books are quite good," Spike was saying. "Okay, so the chap has obviously heard about witches, vampires and demons, and made up a complete fantasy, but what I've read so far is fun."

"Actually, J.K. Rowling is a woman," said Dawn, reaching for the rice. "And I think it would be way cool to really have a Hogwarts. I could totally have gone there when I was Harry Potter's age."

"You couldn't totally have gone there because you didn't exist when you were Harry Potter's age," said Buffy with amusement. She glanced at all her friends assembled around the dinner table, seized with a sudden doubt. "He's younger than fourteen, right?"

Willow nodded, though she looked annoyed. "Harry Potter is a total misrepresentation of witchcraft! Now kids think it's all owls and magic wands." She shook her head. "You won't get very far if you think all you need to do is wave a wand to cast a spell."

"Yes, I hear black eyeballs are all the rage in modern witchcraft," said Spike, winking at her. He poured some more wine for everyone except Dawn. It was their second bottle of the evening. "I take it you don't have an opinion on Harry Potter, Rupert?"

"Well, I feel that there's nothing wrong with a little entertainment," said the former Watcher. "Even if it is a little misrepresentative. You don't see me up in arms every time the villain in an American movie happens to have a British accent."

"Exactly. We all know villains never have British accents," said Xander, grinning at Spike. "Anyway, I vote in favour of letting Harry Potter be." He raised his glass. "We're here to say goodbye to a completely different Englishman with glasses. And one who isn't even a villain."

They all turned to Giles, who looked as if he couldn't decide whether to clean his glasses or lift his own glass of wine. He chose the latter.

"Well, er, I'm sorry to be leaving -- again. But I do have business in England, and--" He smiled at Buffy. "--I think you'll all do fine without me."

"Yeah," said Spike with a hint of sarcasm. "At least this time, you're right."

"Spike will take care of me," said Buffy lightly.

She knew the two Englishmen had recently argued over Giles' abrupt departure the previous year, and she didn't want a replay at her dinner party. Although Buffy had meant her remark about Spike to be a joke, she noticed that Dawn gave her a strange look, as if she had just declared her undying love for him. Buffy glared back at her little sister; it wasn't as if there would be anything wrong with her declaring love for Spike.

Buffy looked at Spike, sitting at her side, pouring wine for her friends, and realised there was something she needed to tell him. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about her personal feelings, though; she turned her attention back to what Giles was saying.

"Yes, I'm sure Spike will take good care of you," said Giles, looking at the two of them. "As will all your friends, of course. As always." He gave into temptation this time, and cleaned his glasses. "I realise that leaving last year wasn't such a wise move. But things have changed. I made a mistake then, but that doesn't mean I am necessarily making one now. For one thing, I am already planning to return for Buffy's birthday next year. The circumstances of my departure are different this time; it's most likely the outcome will be too."

Spike turned to smile at Buffy. Perhaps, like her, he was hoping that the outcome of their rekindled relationship would be different this time as well.

Xander drove Giles back to his hotel shortly after dinner, though Willow stayed a little longer to help with the aftermath of the party. After clearing the table, Spike and Dawn settled down to watch a rerun of Friends, leaving the women to deal with the dishes. The two friends discussed Buffy's boring job and Willow's efforts to give up smoking, and engaged in some speculation about how long Xander and Amrita would last together.

"Speaking about couples that never give up-- You and Spike seem to be closer these days," remarked Willow as she dried the last plate. She smiled at Buffy's surprised look. "I saw you two; exchanging furtive looks and secret smiles. It's kind of obvious when you know what you're looking for."

"Obvious? To whom?" Buffy wasn't sure she liked that. Things that were 'obvious' when she didn't mean them to be were usually things out of her control.

"Only to those of us who know already," Willow reassured her. "Which is just, well, everyone. Except perhaps Dawn. She seemed kinda like 'don't wanna hear it' when I tried to talk to her. But I guess she gets on okay with Spike." She nodded in the direction of the living room. "Now we've all gotten to know the new Spike, I guess we've decided he's a suitable kind of guy. We're really happy for you, you know. Even Giles."

"Glad you approve," said Buffy with a hint of sarcasm, though she was pleased that her friends liked Spike. Although she didn't need their approval if she wanted a relationship with a man she liked, it was good to know she wouldn't have to choose between him and her friends.

"I have to go," said Willow, checking her watch. "I have classes in the morning, and I swear this nicotine patch is making me sleepy. I thought they were meant to make you all awake and bouncy!"

Spike was alone in the living room when Buffy came to join him after Willow left. He explained that Dawn had decided to make a mega important, extremely urgent phone call to one of her friends she would be seeing all day the next day.

"You okay, pet?" he asked when she sat down beside him. He took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" asked Buffy with a shrug. She laced her fingers with Spike's. "If you're talking about Giles, it's not the first time he has left."

"Well, first time it happened, you started shagging me." Spike grinned at her, his eyes still shining from the wine he had drunk. "Just thought I'd check how you were doing. Might be dangerous, you see."

Buffy laughed. "You're afraid I'm going to 'shag' you again?"

"Oh, yes. Keeps me awake at night." He frowned as if it were a terrible thing. "I keep having these nightmares where I get my mojo back and we spend the whole night naked, just--"

He interrupted himself abruptly and let go of Buffy's hand when Dawn came in, still holding the phone, though she didn't seem to be talking on it. Perhaps she was waiting for her friend on the other end to come back from whatever she was doing. Buffy remembered having similar disjointed conversations with Willow at Dawn's age.

"Anyone want a Popsicle?" asked Dawn, the receiver glued to her ear.

"A Popsicle?" repeated Spike. "You just had dinner, what on Earth do you want a Popsicle for? Those things aren't good for you, you know. They'll rot your teeth."

"Okay, Dad," said Dawn sarcastically. "You want one; Buffy?"

"Sure," she said; she was in the mood for something sweet, even if it wasn't good for her.

Dawn stuck her tongue out at Spike and went to get Popsicles for herself and her sister. The person she was phoning apparently said something interesting just when she brought the ice creams back to the living room.

"Oh wow! That is so cool," exclaimed Dawn. She all but threw the Popsicle at Buffy and rushed out of the room to continue her conversation upstairs.

Their romantic mood spoiled by Dawn's interruption, Spike started flicking through the channels, and Buffy sucked on her ice cream while she read the TV Guide to work out if there was anything on.

After a moment, she realised that Spike was watching her instead of the TV. She pulled the ice cream out of her mouth to ask him why, but then noticed the leer on his face. Strawberry Popsicle in her mouth; yeah, she could see where his mind was going. The wine had obviously removed some of his inhibitions.

Putting on a falsely innocent air, Buffy sucked the ice cream back in, before twirling her tongue around the top and up the sides. Spike's grin grew dirtier, his eyes glued to the movement of her lips and tongue up and down the Popsicle. When Buffy was sure she had his full attention, she bit the top off. Spike laughed.

"You saucy mare." He leaned forward to kiss her, tasting the strawberry ice cream on her mouth, then pulled her towards him.

Buffy turned so that her back was resting against his chest. While she was making herself comfortable, Spike leaned over her shoulder and gulped down the rest of her Popsicle in one go.

"Hey! I was eating that," protested Buffy. She pouted. "You bastard, you weren't interested in me at all. You just wanted my ice cream!"

"Well, yeah," he said, as if it were obvious. "Anyway, I thought couples were supposed to share everything."

"No, that's married couples. We're just-- a couple who don't have to share everything."

She laughed when he pretended to bite her neck, then leaned back in his arms and tried to take the remote from him. They wrestled for it briefly, but Buffy won in the end. It was true, she realised as she cycled through the channels; they were a couple now. Not some kind of freak show, or an abomination full of violence and despair -- a normal couple. Admittedly, they were a 'normal' couple where one partner had superhuman strength and the other was one hundred and fifty years old. But hey, this was Sunnydale.

"Tell me something, pet," asked Spike when Buffy muted the sound on a particularly obnoxious advertisement. "When did you decide you'd like to jump me? You know, before you actually did."

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I always thought you were kind of hot..."

"Let me guess, you felt my hard-on during a fight and thought 'yeah, I'll have some of that'?" asked Spike with a chuckle.

"No!" Buffy sat up and turned to face him, offended at the suggestion. "I-I mean, I did feel that you were kind of enjoying the fights like that too. But it wasn't all about your dick. I just thought you were a hot guy who was the last person on Earth I should be involved with." Least said about it, the better, really; that was all in the past. On the other hand, her curiosity was a little piqued. "What about you?"

Spike gave her a sexy look. "Oh, I decided I wouldn't mind a poke the very first time I saw you."

"Decided you wouldn't 'mind a poke'?" Buffy slapped his knee. "That's gross."

"I was evil, remember?" he said with a laugh. His expression softened. "You were dancing with your mates at the Bronze, shaking your cute little booty like nobody's business. You were one hot Slayer." Spike shook his head and ran his hand through his curly hair. "Blimey, you were Dawn's age! I feel like a dirty old man." His face twisted into an evil grin. "Mind you, just think what that makes Angel!"

"Don't worry, I was never Dawn's age. More like sixteen going on forty with everything that was going on," said Buffy. "What is it with you and Angel anyway?"

"You really don't want to know."

Buffy decided to take him at his word. "It's weird how things change," she said. She leaned against him again and Spike started gently stroking her stomach. "Back then, I would have done anything to be with Angel. Now, I don't even know what I saw in him." She shrugged. "I think about my future, and I can't imagine being with anyone but you."

Spike didn't say anything, though his hand stopped moving. Buffy snuggled up to him, silently encouraging him to touch her, and after a moment's hesitation, Spike took the hint and started stroking her front again. Buffy closed her eyes and arched her back when his hand moved up to cup her breasts. Spike kissed her neck; his breath was warm and heavy. One hand snaked into her pants, finding its way down to her panties. Buffy's breathing was also becoming laboured; her eyes snapped open when she realised just how much Spike wanted her...

"Do you want to go upstairs?" he whispered.

The sexy tone of his voice seemed to affect her ability to speak. "Yeah," was all she could muster.

Buffy sat on the edge of the bed and watched Spike lighting candles around the master bedroom. There was no noise from Dawn's room; Buffy hoped she was asleep. She exchanged a polite smile with Spike when he came to sit beside her. Despite their affair the previous winter, and their close encounter the week before, Buffy felt awkward and self-conscious, as if they had never made love before. Thinking about it, she realised they never had. Their trysts had always been about passion, not affection.

In an effort to break the awkward mood, Buffy reached out to stroke Spike's face, caressing his jaw and cheekbones. He leaned into her touch and kissed her palm, his eyes half-closed. Buffy moved closer, and they shared a brief kiss before Spike drew back to look into her face, his features filled with adoration. She remembered a time when she had hated that look; it had reminded her of the horrible person she believed she was, and proved that Spike was not the evil thing she believed him to be. But now, the look felt different. It made Buffy happy to know that he still adored her after everything they had been through. Something had changed in her, too; something she needed to tell him tonight.

Buffy kissed Spike again. The caress of his tongue against hers sent shivers down her spine and into her womb.

When they broke the kiss, Spike placed his glasses on the bedside table and pulled off his sweater in one graceful movement. Buffy couldn't help smiling; his hair was now standing up in unruly curls. Sparse dark hairs peppered his pectorals in uneven little patches, and his chest was covered in alternating streaks of pale and light-brown skin, where his uneven sunburn had faded into stripes. But to Buffy, Spike looked beautiful.

Spike smoothed his hair back self-consciously, then gave Buffy a sexy, confident smile. He leaned towards her, resting his weight on his lean, muscular arms. They kissed again, and Buffy stroked his chest, tracing the contours of his irregular suntan down to the waistband of his jeans. A flicker of fear crossed his face, and she withdrew. But then he smiled and caught her hand, pulling it back to the hard bulge in his pants. Buffy watched his face as she stroked him, feeling her own desire mounting when he closed his eyes and groaned. Overcome by the tenderness she felt for him, she kissed his face and neck until he opened his eyes again.

They stared at each other for a moment, serious and out of breath. Then Spike grinned and raised his eyebrows invitingly. Buffy responded with an encouraging smile. They lunged at each other, falling back onto the bed and tearing at their remaining clothes.

When they were both entirely naked, Buffy slipped one arm around Spike's neck, pulling him down on top of her. She parted her legs, wrapping them around his narrow hips, rubbing herself against him. It wasn't the most subtle invitation, but after all these weeks of waiting, she wanted him too much to wait any longer. Despite the obvious invitation, Spike hesitated, pulling back to search her face.

"Hmm?" he murmured.

"Hmm!" she responded with a smile.

Spike let out an unmanly whimper and pushed inside her, his eyes closing as a look of bliss fell on his handsome features. Buffy clutched his shoulders and let out a low moan. God, she'd actually forgotten how good it felt to have a man inside her. Spike was a perfect fit to stimulate her just the right way.

His eyes fluttered open when Buffy moaned again. Spike was moving his hips slowly, his expression unsmiling, almost pained, as if he were working hard to make the moment last, more intent on Buffy's pleasure than his own. But this wasn't the time for hard work; Buffy wanted Spike to be enjoying his recovered prowess, not worrying about her. She smiled wickedly and grabbed his ass, encouraging him to move faster. Spike grinned and shook his head as if to say what a tease she was, but then he kissed her and complied, thrusting harder, his eyes locked on hers.

This was exactly what she wanted. Buffy leaned her forehead against Spike's, her arms around his neck, her legs locked around his hips. His heart was thumping wildly and his skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat. His thrusts were getting even harder, hammering into Buffy and making her moan with pleasure. God, if he just kept this up a little bit longer--

"Oh," he groaned, burying his face in Buffy's shoulder. "Oh, bugger."

He sounded disappointed; Buffy laughed and kissed his neck. His penis was still inside her, and her arms and legs still wrapped around him. Now she had him, she would never let go. As soon as she relaxed her hold, though, Spike rolled off onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, looking out of breath and not very pleased. Buffy couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that he seemed more interested in the ceiling than in her.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed. He gave Buffy a worried look. "What was that? Ten seconds?"

"Oh, no, it was at least fifteen," she teased.

Spike gave her a sheepish smile. "The fifteen second marathon. God, I'm knackered." He yawned. "I'm going to drop off any minute now. Blimey, I can see why you dumped the Cowboy. And why I was such an appealing proposition when I was a vampire. Humans must be lousy lovers." He closed his eyes and grinned. "Still, on the plus side, I know you won't be using me just for sex."

"That's not funny," admonished Buffy. In the dim light of the flickering candles, she rested her head on Spike's shoulder and unburdened her soul. "I wasn't attracted to you because you were a vampire, Spike. I could have had any number of soulless fiends, but I wanted you. The guy who had hot chocolate with my Mom, who looked out for my baby sister, who helped me when he didn't need to, and loved me when I didn't deserve it. I did everything I could to push you away,