Back in Sunnydale
Buffy bolted straight up in bed, in a cold sweat and gasping for air. She was having the dreams again, the ones where Riley was in her house and trying to kill her. Spike awoke when Buffy sat up. He propped himself up in one elbow, and placed his hand on her back.
"Pet, what's wrong?" He asked, somewhat groggily, rubbing her back soothingly.
"I had that dream again," she whispered, lying back down, resting her head on his chest, and willing the tears away. "It felt so real," she sobbed.
"Look at me," Spike commanded. He put his hand under her chin, and forced her to look at him. "I won't let him hurt you, not if I can help it. You know I'd kill him before he had the chance. I love you too much to let any thing bad happen to you," he said, wiping a tear from her cheek.
"Thank you," she said, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss soon deepened, and Buffy's hand traveled down Spike's chest, and to the buttons on his pants. Spike broke the kiss, and grabbed her hand.
"Buffy, we can't. Your aunt's home," Spike scolded.
"We can be quiet," she said.
"Pet, you could never be quiet. You're very vocal," Spike teased, with a sexy grin on his face.
"Well, I." Buffy trailed off when she heard her aunt downstairs, yelling and slamming cabinets. "I think we should go downstairs and see what she's so unhappy about," she said, as Spike sat and scooted over to the edge of the bed, and put on his shoes. Buffy walked over to her closet and put hers on as well.
When she and Spike got downstairs, her aunt was sitting in her office, in the den.
"Hello, Buffy, William," she said, looking up from her computer.
"Aunt Anya, what's wrong?" Buffy asked.
"Oh, everything. Pitman's art gallery, the branch over in England, wants me to come with one of my exhibits," she said, looking through a pile of papers on her desk.
"Why?" Buffy asked.
"Because the curator heard about the good reviews I'm getting and wants to honor me with an award, and they want me to bring a preview of my newest addition to the gallery," she said.
"Oh, are you going?" Buffy asked.
"I suppose. I've never been to England; it could be fun," she said, getting up and going over to one of her filing cabinets. Buffy and Spike sat down on the sofa in the far corner.
"England is a great place, Anya. I haven't been there since I was fourteen, but still it's a nice place. I think you should go. When is the trip scheduled for?" He asked.
"A week from now. I really need to go pack and get things ready here. Buffy, do you think you'll be okay here? I'll be gone for a month."
"Yeah, but Aunt Anya, graduation's in a week, and if you go to England, you'll miss it," Buffy said, disappointed.
"I'm sorry, Buffy, but we'll have to talk later. Right now, I have work to do," Anya said.
"Fine. But, I'm going over Spike's," Buffy said, grabbing her coat and Spike's hand, walking out her front door.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," Spike said, letting go of her hand, and putting his arm around her shoulder.
"S' okay," Buffy said, resting her head on his shoulder. Neither one of them noticed the man hiding in the bushes.
"You will be mine again, Buffy, and this I promise," the dark haired man said, as he watched the couple walk down the street. The man pulled out his cell phone, and dialed a number. "Riley here.I need a favor, Johnson.Yeah. No.Perfect! I need you in Sunnydale in three days. Got it? Good.Bye." and with that, Riley hung up the phone.
"Yes, Buffy, you will be mine again," he whispered, and walked away.
Buffy bolted straight up in bed, in a cold sweat and gasping for air. She was having the dreams again, the ones where Riley was in her house and trying to kill her. Spike awoke when Buffy sat up. He propped himself up in one elbow, and placed his hand on her back.
"Pet, what's wrong?" He asked, somewhat groggily, rubbing her back soothingly.
"I had that dream again," she whispered, lying back down, resting her head on his chest, and willing the tears away. "It felt so real," she sobbed.
"Look at me," Spike commanded. He put his hand under her chin, and forced her to look at him. "I won't let him hurt you, not if I can help it. You know I'd kill him before he had the chance. I love you too much to let any thing bad happen to you," he said, wiping a tear from her cheek.
"Thank you," she said, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss soon deepened, and Buffy's hand traveled down Spike's chest, and to the buttons on his pants. Spike broke the kiss, and grabbed her hand.
"Buffy, we can't. Your aunt's home," Spike scolded.
"We can be quiet," she said.
"Pet, you could never be quiet. You're very vocal," Spike teased, with a sexy grin on his face.
"Well, I." Buffy trailed off when she heard her aunt downstairs, yelling and slamming cabinets. "I think we should go downstairs and see what she's so unhappy about," she said, as Spike sat and scooted over to the edge of the bed, and put on his shoes. Buffy walked over to her closet and put hers on as well.
When she and Spike got downstairs, her aunt was sitting in her office, in the den.
"Hello, Buffy, William," she said, looking up from her computer.
"Aunt Anya, what's wrong?" Buffy asked.
"Oh, everything. Pitman's art gallery, the branch over in England, wants me to come with one of my exhibits," she said, looking through a pile of papers on her desk.
"Why?" Buffy asked.
"Because the curator heard about the good reviews I'm getting and wants to honor me with an award, and they want me to bring a preview of my newest addition to the gallery," she said.
"Oh, are you going?" Buffy asked.
"I suppose. I've never been to England; it could be fun," she said, getting up and going over to one of her filing cabinets. Buffy and Spike sat down on the sofa in the far corner.
"England is a great place, Anya. I haven't been there since I was fourteen, but still it's a nice place. I think you should go. When is the trip scheduled for?" He asked.
"A week from now. I really need to go pack and get things ready here. Buffy, do you think you'll be okay here? I'll be gone for a month."
"Yeah, but Aunt Anya, graduation's in a week, and if you go to England, you'll miss it," Buffy said, disappointed.
"I'm sorry, Buffy, but we'll have to talk later. Right now, I have work to do," Anya said.
"Fine. But, I'm going over Spike's," Buffy said, grabbing her coat and Spike's hand, walking out her front door.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," Spike said, letting go of her hand, and putting his arm around her shoulder.
"S' okay," Buffy said, resting her head on his shoulder. Neither one of them noticed the man hiding in the bushes.
"You will be mine again, Buffy, and this I promise," the dark haired man said, as he watched the couple walk down the street. The man pulled out his cell phone, and dialed a number. "Riley here.I need a favor, Johnson.Yeah. No.Perfect! I need you in Sunnydale in three days. Got it? Good.Bye." and with that, Riley hung up the phone.
"Yes, Buffy, you will be mine again," he whispered, and walked away.