Later that evening, Spike sat propped up against the headboard of Buffy's bed, scanning the contents of a magazine he'd found on the floor. He didn't really care that it was circa 10 years ago or that announced the headline "Dealing with the Pressures of Prom Sex"; it was keeping his mind off the fact that in less than a few moments, Buffy was going to be crawling in the bed with him and expecting him to do nothing but sleep.
This is bloody insane! Spike thought. Maybe I should be payin' attention to what this stupid book is sayin about the sex bit. Course, doesn't really matter, because she doesn't know I love her, so why then would she think it odd for us to share a room? The next three nights are going to drive me batty…
Across the hall, Buffy stepped from her warm shower and wrapped herself in her robe while she concentrated on brushing her hair. Her hair became the least of her worries, however, as too many Spike-centric thoughts continued to flood her brain.
Way to go Buffy… nothing like inviting the object of your desire into your bed for three nights of… what? Nice, friendly sleeping? What was I thinking?! He's going to be in there, flashing those baby blues at me, and smirking that smirk and I just know I'll say or do something to make this really awkward. What if during the night I roll over and my hand ends up where it shouldn't be? Or what if I forget it's him and like, kiss him in the middle of the night or something? Yeah, right, like I could forget it's Spike… with his beautiful eyes and beautiful body and… STOP! Nothing can happen… he's my best friend and doesn't think of me that way…
Before she even realized it, Buffy's mind had gone on autopilot and she had covered herself with her vanilla lotion and spritzed the scent through her hair before pulling it up into a messy knot on the top of her head. She had meant to skip the fragrance tonight, and go to bed smelling like nothing. That's what happens when my mind gets lost on Spike, apparently. She slipped on her tank top and pj shorts sporting pictures of red lips all over them and silently padded across the hall to her room.
Her breath caught in her throat when he saw Spike. Propped up against her headboard, shirtless, his hair messy from the ride in the convertible and from getting undressed, he looked like a fantasy. A fantasy that should be beckoning her to bed to do anything but sleep.
Spike smelled her before he even glanced up from the dated magazine to see her standing in the doorway. Vanilla wafted into the room, with warm sugary undertones alerting him to her presence. He was amazed when he finally looked up at her. She was standing in the doorway; hair pulled into a messy knot, no make up, skin still the slightest bit flushed from her shower. He thought she'd never looked more beautiful, and willed his body not to react to the sight of her.
He grinned at her but didn't say a word as she walked into the room and dumped her clothes and hairbrush on top of her suitcase. She crawled into the bed, snuggling under the covers and turning to face him before asking "Whatcha reading?"
With the most serious expression he could muster, Spike held the magazine up for her inspection. After he heard her giggle, he lost all control himself and started laughing.
"Spike, why, may I ask, are you reading a YM Magazine from my senior year of high school?"
"Because it's the only bloody thing in here not related to work and I needed something to occupy my mind while waiting on you so we can get our beauty sleep," he explained, before tossing the magazine back to the floor where he'd found it. Noting that Buffy was already snuggled into her pillows, he reached over and turned off the lamp before settling into his own side of the bed.
They were facing each other, neither one closing their eyes for sleep, but neither one speaking at all. The moonlight streamed through the cracks in the blinds, and fell on Spike's back, giving him a glow that made him almost look angelic. Buffy was mesmerized. Suddenly, she looked up into his eyes and couldn't quite figure out what she saw in them.
"Why is this weird?" she asked, before she could even contemplate the repercussions of an answer.
Spike thought for a moment before replying, "Um… because I have on underwear and you don't?"
Buffy's eyes grew wide in shock at the statement. "I do so!"
"Pet, I don't know what's under the shorts, but you most definitely do not have on a bra."
"Wha-"
He grinned. "I know you don't. I mean, with those tiny little straps on that shirt there's no way you could be wearing one and besides," he blushed a little before looking away slightly "I can just tell."
Buffy looked down and realized it was a tad chilly in her room. And the evidence was there for all to see. Pulling the sheet up to cover her chest, she said "Well, you don't have on a shirt. You have on boxers, I have on panties. No shirt for you, no bra for me."
He chuckled. "Fine, love, whatever you want." He leaned over and kissed her forehead before turning to face the window. "Nighty night Buffy."
+ + + +
The soft hues of twilight colored the window, taking away the angelic glow of moonlight and preparing the sky for the fiery rays of the sun. Buffy's left hand was entwined with the fingers of Spike's right hand, while her other hand supported her weight as she hovered over him. She leaned down, placing soft, wet kisses on his chest, taking the time to explore every inch of his torso; enjoying the feel of his muscles twitching beneath her and the little gasps coming from his throat. She paused to place a brief, chaste kiss to his lips before going back to continue her trail down his chest. His unique scent of leather, tobacco, aftershave and the slightest hint of alcohol assaulted her senses.
He ran his fingers through her hair and gazed adoringly at her. "You're going to tease me to death, aren't you, love?" he asked, appreciating the seductive smile that spread across her face.
"No, I'm not," she replied huskily.
"You're not what, dear?" Joyce asked.
"What?!" Buffy asked, sitting straight up in her bed, snapping out of what was decidedly the best fantasy of her life.
"I was trying to wake you to tell you breakfast is ready, and you mumbled something about what you weren't doing."
Buffy blushed slightly. "Oh, it's nothing Mom… just a dream I guess, I really don't remember. I'll be down for breakfast in few." She glanced around her room, noting the absence of one bleached blonde best friend. "Mom- where's Spike?"
"Oh, he went out for an early morning run. But he promised to be back for breakfast. He looked really tense… I think the two of you needed a vacation more than you're willing to admit."
Buffy brushed her teeth and joined her mother in the kitchen. The island was filled with plates of homemade waffles, scrambled eggs, French toast, and bacon, while a pitcher of fresh orange juice sat next to the coffee pot. "Mom, I have certainly missed your weekend breakfasts. Spike and I never eat this good in New York."
As if on queue, at the mention of his name the back door swung open to reveal a very sweaty and panting Spike. "Morning, pets," he panted, before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and gulping down half of it. "Nothing clears the mind like a run in the fresh morning air." He sidled up to Buffy as she was pouring her coffee. Turning his best puppy dog eyes toward her, he asked "Make me cup too?"
Buffy scrunched her nose up. "Not if you keep attempting to rub your sweaty self all over me." He pouted. She tried not to let her mind wander the more fun implications of what she'd just said. "Go, sit. I'll bring it to you."
"Thanks, pet," he said with a wink and smirk.
After breakfast,
Buffy and Spike decided to kill some time by driving out to the beach. They
spent the morning and early afternoon swimming and playing in the sand, acting
like two teenagers rather than two 28 year old career people. On the ride back
to her house, Buffy let out a contented sigh.
"That was the most fun I've had in a long time, Spike."
"I'm glad, pet. Maybe we need to look into taking vacations more often then," he told her, enjoying the purely happy smile she wore and the way the wind whipped through her damp hair.
When they got back to the house, Joyce's car was gone and she'd left a note on the counter. "I wonder where Mom went that she had to leave a note" Buffy wondered aloud, picking up the note and barely scanning it before clearing her throat for a dramatic reading.
Dear Kids, "Will she never stop calling us that?" Buffy questioned, as Spike laughed at the greeting on the note. Buffy continued.
So sorry to do this, but it really couldn't be helped. Marie was supposed to go on a buying trip for the gallery this weekend, but called this morning and said her husband had a heart attack last night. There's no one else to take her place, so I'm afraid I have to head out to San Francisco for a few days. I'm so sorry I'll miss seeing you kids off to the reunion tonight. Give all your friends a hug for me. I should be back on Tuesday.
Love you lots,
Mom
Buffy's heart raced at the thought that she would be all alone with Spike in the house that evening. "Well, looks like we're on our own, Spikey."
"Looks like, pet." The smirk fell from his face as he replied "And don't call me Spikey."
+ + + +
Spike knocked softly on Buffy's bedroom door before opening it slowly and stepping inside.
"Ready to go reunite with your past, love?" He questioned, as he watched her fumble with the clasp on her necklace.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she said, while still struggling with the necklace. "Why won't this thing work?" she cried in frustration.
"Here, let me," Spike said, placing his hands over hers and taking the necklace from her. She held the strands of hair that fell around her neck away while he secured the clasp. As he straightened behind her, they both caught a glimpse of themselves in the mirror.
Buffy's dress was a deep sapphire color, falling to just below her knees in a diagonal hem. One strap fell over her left shoulder and leaving her right shoulder bare, framing the diagonal neckline in the opposite direction of the hem, creating simple yet alluring lines along her tiny frame. Spike's suit was charcoal grey, with a lighter, pale grey shirt. He'd opted to go for a more casual look, skipping a tie and leaving the top button on his collar open. They both smiled while eyeing the other with appreciation.
"We look pretty together," Buffy said shyly, in a small voice.
Spike reached down and took her hand. "We certainly do, pet. Now let's go make everyone jealous with our prettiness," he said with a wink.
+ + + +
Chapter 6While the outside of The Bronze had gotten a face-lift, Buffy noted that not much else had changed about the club over the last ten years. Still the same dark interior, with its shadowy corners and shady balcony, overlooking the large dance floor and long bar. The pool tables were gone, and in their place were more bar tables, some high tops with tall bar stools and other shorter rounds, with padded lounge-type seats.
Before she'd even finished signing in and finding the nametags laid out for Spike and herself, she heard an all too familiar voice squeal her name. Turning, she barely registered the flash of red hair before being pulled into a ferocious hug.
Returning the embrace, she squeaked out "Hey, Willow."
"Oh, Buffy, it's so good to see you! Why didn't you call when you got in?"
"I'm sorry, Will, we were just really tired and needed to catch up on some rest. This morning we decided to just have a leisurely day at the beach, and then Mom had to leave for San Francisco, and things just got hectic getting ready to come tonight."
Willow smiled, and at the mention of "we" in Buffy's explanation, she finally looked up and saw Spike standing there. "Oh, hey William. Glad you could make it. Buffy told me how much you hate these things…"
Spike pulled the redhead into a gentle hug. "Willow, I've known you for at least nine of the last ten years. Please call me Spike." Willow smiled and nodded her head in agreement. "I must admit that I'm not the fondest of reunions, but any chance to learn more about Buffy's sordid past I'll jump at."
They all laughed after Buffy elbowed Spike in the ribs. "We've already got a table, why don't you two come and join us? I'll be just like old times," Willow said, leading the way. On the way to the table, Buffy noticed something glimmering on Willow's finger as her hand motioned toward the old high school gang. Buffy caught her hand in mid-gesture, holding it up for inspection.
"Willow Rosenburg, how long have you been sporting this rock?" Buffy asked, feigning hurt that she didn't know of her old friend's engagement.
A huge grin bloomed across her face. "Only about a week. Oz finally asked me last week. It was the sweetest thing; he took me out to the beach for a picnic at sunset, and when we got to dessert the ring box was nestled in the middle of a basket of strawberries and champagne. Of course I cried, and I think I said yes before he even finished asking."
Buffy hugged her friend again. "Oh, Will, that's wonderful. I'm so happy for you." They exchanged a knowing grin before Buffy continued, "You must have transformed him, Willow. High school Oz never would have come up with champagne and strawberries."
Willow nodded. "You have no idea, Buffy. I mean, he's still the same guitar-playing rocker I fell in love with, but on a lot of levels he's totally different. Grown up, I guess."
"Well, growing up happens to the best of us," Spike threw in, just before reaching the table. All heads turned to take in the sight of the two newcomers, before Xander jumped up to greet them.
"Hey, Buffster…looking good!" He hugged her, but only briefly before his wife pulled him back down into his seat.
"Xander, it is not polite to pay more attention to other women than you do your own wife, especially when said woman has her own hottie to pay attention to her," Anya bluntly pointed out to him. "Hello, Buffy. How are you?"
Buffy and Spike both grinned, forgetting how blunt the woman could be. "We're great Anya. It's good to see you. Oz, how are you?" Buffy asked, stepping around the table for yet another hug.
"Oh, I'm not complaining," he replied with a ghost of a smile. Motioning slightly toward Anya, he said, "We thought you'd never get here. Why don't the two of you sit down and tell us what you've been up to."
"But I was telling you about the joys of motherhood and how it's not so joyous during the terrible twos," Anya pouted.
"But they've heard this story a million times, honey," Xander coaxed, "Remember how we talked about not telling the same story over and over to our friends?"
"But, Buffy and Spike haven't heard it…"
"It's quite alright, Anya," Buffy said. "How is your little one?"
Anya beamed with the possibility of talking about her second favorite topic: her daughter. "Oh, up until her second birthday, Penny was an absolute angel. Now I'm positive she's a demon in training."
At the mention of her name, Buffy had to stifle a grin when she suddenly remembered the call from Xander announcing the child's birth. Anya was crying in the background, not understanding why she couldn't name the child "Dollar" or "Money". They decided on Penny, and from that day on she was all Anya could talk about.
Xander spoke up, quelling what could be a never-ending story from Anya, asking Buffy and Spike about their newest books. The two blondes told them what was going on in the world of publishing, catching the old friends up on their current storylines and bouncing ideas off of fresh minds. They were so caught up in their visit that no one even noticed the tall brunette making her way to their table.
"Well, well, well… if it isn't the losers of Sunnydale High. We should have a plaque engraved for this table, since your butts always seem to be glued in these seats. I mean, really how lame can you…." Her rants faded as she looked around the table and let her eyes settle on the good-looking blonde man in the grey suit.
Cordelia's eyes widened as she realized who he was. "Oh, my gosh… you're William Bartlett!" She said, shock taking over her features. "Why are you here with this bunch of losers?"
Spike rolled his eyes before standing and turning to face her. " Surely you should remember your old classmate, Buffy, right… Cordelia?" he said, eying her nametag. "I'm her date. And, I usually tend to think that popularity status is a lot like beauty. All in the eye of the beholder, right pet? Now, who was it that you're here with… or couldn't the Prom queen scrape up a date for tonight?" he finished, watching as a horrified expression took over the former prom queen's face. She turned and stomped away, fleeing the crowd and heading straight to the bar to drink away her woes of showing up alone.
Spike sat back down, just as Xander commented "We've been trying to knock her off her pedestal for 10 years, man. Way to go." The group laughed and continued talking and catching up.
--
The evening went on, with the couples enjoying dinner and drinks and dancing. Buffy and Spike danced the night away, making each of the friends wonder if there wasn't more to their relationship than they were admitting. During one trip to the bar, Buffy took the opportunity to ask Willow about some of their classmates that she'd not been able to speak with. Willow told her that Jonathan had been in partnership with Warren and Andrew, starting a computer gaming business. Warren and Andrew, however, got involved in some corporate software scandal and tried to pin the whole thing on Jonathan. Luckily, they'd missed a few key pieces of evidence linking them to the whole debacle, clearing Jonathan and putting them away for quite a few years in prison.
They spotted Scott Hope across the room, and Buffy nearly dropped her drink when Willow told her he was gay. Buffy noticed another familiar face, and sent Willow back to the table with the drinks while she went to visit another old friend.
Crossing the dance floor, Buffy stepped up behind him, waiting for him to finish his conversation with some other guys before saying "Joseph Michael Winston, I'm positively crushed that you haven't even spoken to me yet."
He recognized the voice right away, and turned to find the most adorable pout on her face. He scooped her up into an embrace, lifting her feet off the floor and spinning her around. He kissed her on the cheek before sitting her back on her feet. "Well, I could say the same for you, missy. You've been in town for how many days and didn't call me?"
"Honestly, we just got here yesterday. Things have been crazy around the house and I didn't call anyone yet."
His eyebrows rose in question. "We? Who's this we you speak of? Finally gave your heart away, eh'?"
"Well, not exactly," she partially lied. "You must know Spike, my best friend from college, my current editor? He owed me one, and it was time for a vacation, so he came with me. You must be here with some ravishing beauty…" she trailed off, looking around for any women shooting jealous glares at her.
"Well, not exactly," he mirrored her words, before launching into his own story.
Spike sat at the table and watched the interaction, trying his best to quell the spark of jealousy he felt in his heart. The embrace, the spinning, the light touches while they talked… he wondered why he had no clue who this man was. "Who's that bloke that Buffy's talkin' to?"
"Whoa, you don't know Joey Winston?" Xander asked, shocked.
"Apparently not. Should I?"
"Should you? I would think so. I mean, he was only the closest guy friend Buffy ever had in high school, as much as it pains me to admit that." Xander added, almost as an afterthought. He started telling Spike all about Buffy and Joey's high school adventures, but Spike was barely listening.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from Buffy, and had the distinct 'now or never' kind of feeling where she was concerned. She looked up at him then, and when she saw Spike looking at her, her grin grew even wider. She looked right at him, and even from across the room he felt like he could drown in her eyes. She winked at him, momentarily setting his heart at ease. He had never felt surer of what to do where Buffy was concerned, and began to formulate a plan.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize Xander was still talking, until he heard him say, "They were always really close. Hell, that summer after senior year he asked her…OW!"
Spike looked up then, seeing Xander's face screwed up in pain and a glare from Willow. He eyed them suspiciously then, wonder just what Willow thought was so important she had to kick Xander under the table to keep him from saying. "He asked her what? I didn't hear that last part," Spike asked the two of them.
Willow cleared her throat, daring Xander to speak another word. "Oh, it's nothing really, just old history," she started with a little hesitation. "They went on this road trip after graduation, just the two of them. They were gone for almost two months, and when they were almost home, he sort of asked her out. But Buffy said no, because she was afraid it would ruin the friendship."
"I see." Spike said, noting the look that Xander gave Willow and deciding that there was something that they weren't telling him. He looked back out to the dance floor and momentarily panicked when he couldn't spot Buffy.
"Spike, dance with me," Willow requested, standing up and offering her hand to him. "Oz is at the bar and you've danced with everyone but me."
He took her hand and dramatically kissed the back of it. "How could I have been so rude?" Willow laughed, leading him out onto the dance floor while trying to choose a spot that wasn't too close to where Buffy and Joey were dancing. As they danced, she made up her mind that she needed to say something to Spike, without giving away the secret that Buffy and Joey shared.
"Spike, how much do you know about Buffy's dating life before college?"
He looked at her strangely, but answered, "A little. I know that she feels like she's always had bad luck with men, and her more recent relationships have done nothing to reassure her to the contrary."
"So, then, she's not really attached to anyone at the moment?" He shook his head 'no' and waited for Willow to continue. "Spike, please tell me if you think I'm overstepping my bounds here, but I've watched you and she tonight, and it's pretty obvious how you feel for her."
Spike looked away, before Willow grabbed his chin and forced him to look back at her. "You love her, don't you?"
"Yes," he quietly admitted, "more than life itself. But she'd never love me like that. She's too scared of being hurt."
"I think you might be surprised if you told her, Spike. But listen to me now- don't wait too much longer, or it may be too late."
"Don't wait… Willow what aren't you telling me?"
The song ended, and Willow saw that Buffy had spotted them and was coming toward them with Joey. She leaned into whisper "I can't say anymore, Spike. It's not my place. Just know that you don't have a whole lot of time."
Spike didn't really have time to be more confused at Willow's statement, because before he knew it he was again drowning in the hazel gleam of Buffy's eyes. She smiled, and grabbed his hand before saying "William Bartlett, I'd like you to meet one of my friends from high school, Joey Winston. Joey, this is my very best friend and editor, Spike."
The two men shook hands, and Joey said, "Most everyone calls me Joe now, Buffy's about the only person who can get away with calling me Joey."
Spike chuckled and replied, "Same here mate. She's the only one nowadays who doesn't call me William. Well, except for her little group of friends here."
Willow sensed the tension radiating from Spike. "Joe, why don't you take me for a spin around the dance floor? These two look like they could use a drink."
"Sure thing, Willow. William, it was nice to meet you; Buffy, give me a call…we still have some major catching up to do."
As he led Buffy to the bar and watched Willow and Joe dance, he wondered even more what the truth about Buffy and this old friend was, and why it was so important that he declare his love sooner rather than later.
+ + + +
TBC…
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