Disclaimer: All Hail Joss and Co., blah blah blah. Obviously I do not own Mutant Enemy or any of the characters, I'm just a lowly follower with a dream

Pairing: B/S, A/C, X/A, W/T

Rating: PG-13. Honestly, just around the kind of stuff you see on the show

Author's Note: I wrote this in December after watching bits and pieces of "Wrecked" so my characterization of Rack isn't completely right, but hey, artistic liscense!

Chapter One: Shadows and Pool

She hated when he was right.

She hated him the majority of the time, but none so much as when he stood in front of her, smirk in place, head cocked, rolling out her fearful truths in his lazy accent.

"You came back wrong."

"Things are different between you and me now Slayer"

"You're gonna crave me the way I crave blood."

And it was all true, especially the last bit. Why else would she be there, watching him play pool from the shadowy darkness of the Bronze?

She, on the other hand, could not seem to stop lying. To herself, to her friends, to him.

Reassuring the Scoobies that after all that happened, she was fine.

Demanding him to stay away from her and Dawn, even though she knew she would never wish that.

Reminding herself that despite feeling all the coldness in her body thaw just by being near him, she was there not because she wanted to be.

She knew she should have gone up to him right away to give him her usual brusque, rude greeting. That was a lot less dangerous than lingering in the darkness, marveling at the fluidity of his movements as he sexily sauntered about the pool table and squinted as he leaned forward with his pool rod for the kill. She would have given anything to be able to ignore the way his beautiful muscles tensed underneath the layers of black leather and cotton as he lurched forward suddenly, cat-like, to snap the ball in the pocket.

And she almost felt like their roles had been reversed. She imagined this is what it probably felt like for him, guarded by the secure shadows of the large oak outside her window. She imagined in earlier days, he stood feeling the same mixture of disgust and hopeless fascination that sent waves of chills through the chest the way she did. She waited until he finally got the eight ball in the corner pocket before rushing up to his black-clad back.

"Spike."

She saw him stiffen. The sound of her voice always had the same effect on him, sending warmth throughout his cold body. Whether the warmth be rage, amusement, or frenzied need, his undead body temp raised a degree or so at the sound of her voice. He turned slowly, curling his lip up in his characteristic way.

"Slayer," he growled. "And what can I do for you duchess? Although I'm sure I already know."

"Look Spike I need—"

"Yeah I know what you need, luv," Spike said, his wicked smile growing larger and larger. "And it took only a week for you to come running to me to get it too. Figured you for a stronger lot, Slayer." He strode up to her seductively, so close that she could feel her own flushed, raging warmth being cooled by his body, just inches away. He raised a hand to caress her cheek, grinning at how her breathing became more ragged and shallow. Just before he touched her, Buffy's hand flew automatically to catch him.

"Don't start, Spike." Buffy gritted her teeth.

Chuckling, he backed away. "Oh here we go. Diving right into the verbal clashing which leads to the fists flying, which in turn leads to, as I've happily found out . . ." He gave her a wicked wink. "Other things."

Buffy sighed. "Spike, this really is more of a business call."

"Oh is it? Well how come your devoted groupies aren't here then? They usually accompany you on all your crime-solving capers."

"They're busy. Looking for Dawn."

Hearing the emphasis placed on the last little word, some of the hard irony drained from Spike's face.

"That's why I'm here. I thought she might be at the Bronze, and the I saw you and figured I'd ask since, well, Dawn is strangely and twistedly drawn to you."

"Not the only Summers girl to be doing that now is she?" Spike couldn't help muttering. Seeing this was going nowhere, Buffy turned to abruptly leave when Spike grabbed the sleeve of her leather coat and looked her in the eyes as she turned.

"Wait Slayer, I'm comin' with."