Part 8

I have just enough time before sunrise to run an errand. Jade's out like a light- she won't wake up before I get back. Damn…girl's still got my duster. Oh well. I don't really need it anyway- no body temperature and all. I duck out into the night and begin stalking to my destination.

Within no time I'm there, standing on the doorstep debating what to do exactly. Well, I've never been one to plan things out- always been the spur-of-the-moment type myself. So this isn't any different. Without much effort I kick down the flimsy door and enter the small house. I stop, listening for a heartbeat. Finding it, I follow the sound into what must be Jade's bedroom.

My eyes fall on the shattered glass on the floor first, then on the body on the bed. It's a man, passed out or asleep and stinking of liquor. With just enough force so as not to set of this bloody chip, I nudge him in the gut with my boot. The wanker's awake in a moment, staring up at me in drunken rage.

"What are you doing in my house?" he screams. He moves to get up but I knock him back down. The chip sends a small jolt through my brain but I ignore it. "Who are you?"

"A friend of Jade's. There's a few things we have to get straight."

*****

As my eyes flutter open, I'm caught in that moment of disorientation when you wake up. But then the events of the previous night come flooding back to me. My bedroom…Roger…the broken bottle…the street…Spike… I rub the sleep out of my eyes and then swing my feet over the edge of the bed. For a dilapidated old thing, it's one comfortable mattress. I don't think I've slept that well in years. With a great yawn I stand up and make my way up the ladder to the main level of the crypt.

"Well, look who's awake." An unfamiliar voice exclaims.

I whirl around to find a…thing…sitting on the chair I was in last night, watching TV. Hmm, I hadn't noticed the TV last night. I hadn't noticed a lot of things. There's a little refrigerator and candles and odd little knickknacks sitting around everywhere. I turn to the creature- who kind of resembles a pig, but on two feet and with really, really loose skin. I wonder if it has a little corkscrew tail…but I'm soo not looking.

"W-who are you?" I ask warily.

"Oh, I'm Clem." He holds out a hand and I shake it timidly. "Spike asked me to hang around in case you woke up. He had to go on a blood run. But he should be back any minute. Cheeto?" Suddenly there's a cheesy-smelling orange bag in my face. I push it away and shake my head.

"No thanks. Um…what time is it?"

"Nearly eight o'clock. I thought only vamps slept during the day. You aren't a vamp are you?" I shake my head. "Oh, OK. Just checking. But it'd be fine if you were. I'm totally down with the undead thing. I mean, Spike's-"

"What's that?" I interrupt as I spot a familiar trunk by the door.

"That? I dunno…"

I open it, finding it full of very familiar clothes- my clothes. All my clothes, in fact. Skirts, jeans, shirts, dresses, shorts, sweaters, socks, underwear, shoes- it's all there. Rather hastily packed though. Some stuff is still on hangers and none of it's folded.

"We can go back and get the rest of your things later. That's all I had time to pack." Spike says from behind me. I jump, whirling around on him. When did he get here? I was right by the door and I didn't see or hear anything. "Sorry everything's all wrinkled. But it was almost dawn and-"

"You went to my house?"

"Well, yeah. You've got to have something to wear."

"And Roger?"

"You don't need to worry about Roger anymore."

"But where am I gonna go? I don't have any place to live!"

"Well, I told you you're not going back there!"

Clem clears his throat suddenly, looking nervously between me and Spike. "I'll…uh…just be…yeah." He ducks out the door, leaving Spike and I standing in the middle of the crypt facing off.

"I talked to Willow," he begins as if we were never interrupted. "She says that we have a few options. Either you can be sent to another foster home or there's this thing where you can live on your own- get emancipated or what not. And I think that's the best thing to do."

"Roger will never let-"

"I told you! You don't have to worry about him any more!" he says harshly.

I eye him distrustfully. "What did you do? Did you kill him? Oh my God, you killed him!"

"I did not kill him! He is, unfortunately, unharmed. We just…had a talk, is all. Came to an understanding."

I sink down into the chair, staring straight ahead. "What am I gonna do? Where am I gonna go?"

"I told you. Get emancipated."

"I'd have to get a place and a job to pay for it and keep up my grades at school and-"

"Listen, I've been thinking…and this is just an idea, mind you. Nothing's set in stone. But…for a while I've been thinking about getting a place of my own…something not in a cemetery. What if we went halves on it? I'm sure demon girl would give you a job at the Magic Box and I get money my own way and-"

I cut him off with a dry laugh and he stares at me, perplexed and maybe a little bit hurt. "There's no way. It's impossible."

"Is it? How?"

"What, do you want a list or something? Cause I could make you a list- a very long one with different sections. Bullets, numbers, letters, roman numerals- the works."

"Come on now, pet. It's very logical. You can stay here until we find a place. And then-"

"No. I'll just go to another foster home. I only have a few years until I graduate. It won't be that bad."

Spike snorts. "Right. So you'll end up with another Roger or end up a thousand miles from here."

"Why do you care?" I shout angrily.

He stills, seemingly considering my question. "Maybe…I've grown a bit fond of you." I don't even see it but he's suddenly inches from me, staring down at me with those damn eyes.

Is he gonna kiss me? Please don't kiss me. I can't take that. Not now. Not ever. Not from Spike. Somewhere along the line he's become less of a kissing-and-more prospect to a friend prospect. He's since reached friend status and if he kisses me now he's going to cross a line into something I've never done before and don't plan on doing- ever.

I stare at his lips for what feels like an eternity. The bottom is thicker than the top and they look very soft and just slightly pink. What would they feel like on mine? I bet they're cool, like the other vamps' were. I bet they'd send chills down my spine. But I don't want them to. Oh God…he's leaning in… When did his hand cup my face? His skin is cool against mine- his palm is rough but soft at the same time. Very masculine hands…very comforting hands. Oh…his face is barely an inch away from mine.

My brain screams at me to do something but my damn body won't obey. I'm frozen in place and time is standing still. Dammit…I always hated that cliché but I never realized how true it could be until now. Do something, Jade! Run, scream, push him away, step on his foot, puke, ANYTHING!

My feet finally obey and they carry me fast and hard out of the crypt into the cemetery. I've been running for several minutes when I finally realize that (A) I have no idea where I'm going (B) my feet hurt and (C) I'm still in my pajamas and Spike's duster. Dammit.

There's a bench a few feet away so I take a seat, vaguely aware of the danger I'm in being alone in a cemetery at night. I rest my head in my hands, trying to work out what exactly just happened. OK…me…Spike…crypt…almost kissage… UGH! That bastard! I can't believe he'd try to… Doesn't he know what it'd do to me? If I kissed him now, after all that's happened…doesn't he know I'd fall in love with him?

I don't believe in love! I'm the cynical teenager with a rough family life that seeks solace in liquor, drugs, and lots and lots of men! I'm the bad ass that insists she doesn't need anybody, is totally independent, and is self-sufficient, dammit! Does he not get that? Did he miss the section in the clause that says, 'This girl doesn't fall in love.'?

Apparently he did. Two boot-clad feet appear in my field of vision. I don't want to look up cause he'll be there, staring at me with those eyes of his. But I have to. And, just as suspected, he's there and so are his eyes.

"You're bound and determined to get yourself killed aren't you?" he asks. I don't respond. With a sigh, he takes a seat beside me on the bench. For a long time neither of us speaks. But it's not a comfortable silence like we have in the car on the way home from school. It's not companionable or anything like that. It's just awkward- very awkward- until he finally breaks the silence. "If we don't talk about what happened back there, I for one, will most likely implode." When I still don't respond, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Out of the corner of my eye I can see a gentle smile on his face.

"You shouldn't have tried to kiss me." I say finally.

"Well if you're waiting for an apology, you're out of luck, pet. I'm not sorry. And if I had it to do over again, I wouldn't change a thing. Except maybe I'd keep a tighter hold on you."

His attempts at keeping things light don't affect me. "Why did you do it?" I ask seriously.

"Seemed like the thing to do at the time. Been wanting to do it for a while now."

"Let me guess…since the first day in the car?"

"No, actually. Well, yea- I wanted to shag you senseless which I would've done, I assure you. But I didn't want to kiss you until after I got to know you. Don't know when exactly…"

I laugh. "You're so full of crap." I look at him. "If you want to screw me, just do it. Don't give me all this. Come on, I'm doing every guy in this town, why not you?" In a second I'm off the bench and standing before him. I shed his coat, laying it on the bench carefully. The chill air hits my bare skin and I gasp a little as goosebumps cover my flesh. I slide onto his lap, straddling him and grinning wickedly. He watches me suspiciously, unresponsive and rigid to my movements. "I know you want to. You must have wondered what it'd be like- to kiss me…to feel my hot tongue in your mouth…how'd it feel to run your hands over my naked skin…to taste me…to be inside me…I know you've wondered…"

He pushes me away and stands. "You don't get it." He shakes his head. "You're just a scared little girl. Come on," The leather duster is tossed roughly at me. "Let's get inside before you catch your death."

Spike saunters away in the direction of the crypt and I'm left standing, clutching the coat and wondering- again- what just happened. But a cold breeze stabs at my skin and I pull on the duster and quickly run after him.

**OK, took me a while to write this chapter cause I've been spending my days trying to get my new contacts in and out. (A task which takes me at least an hour. I'm told it gets easier, however.) BTW, I watched Gone With the Wind while writing this…so if Spike seems a bit like Rhett Butler, you know why. God, I love that movie. Also, I put Clem in this chapter cause he's so cool, I just had to use him. I love Clem. Anyways, keep reviewing! Only I think two…maybe three…chapters to go so just sit tight!**