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36. Separation Anxiety
Willow stole a glance to the back of the van, noting that everyone was fast asleep. They had been driving for a little over two hours, and the vehicle was silent - except for the low music from the radio and Xander's sporadic snoring. She turned to Oz who was staring intently at the road ahead of him, and then leaned her head to the passenger side window. Letting out a small sigh she began to speak very quietly, as not to disturb the sleeping bodies in the back. "So. . .Spike seemed pretty torn-up that Buffy couldn't come along."
Oz nodded, "I guess."
Willow took a deep breath and decided to continue her attempt to pry something - ANYTHING - from her monosyllabic boyfriend. "Who would have thought that after only two weeks he'd be so attached to her? I'd hate to see what happens at the end of the summer when he has to go home."
"Yah," was the only reply, from the seemingly oblivious driver.
Willow continued, "I don't know how they're going to survive it. They aren't even together now and it's all 'eeee,'" she squealed softly, raising her arms.
"So it seems," Oz said, furrowing his brows to see the road better.
Willow gulped, feeling the tears forming at the corner of her eyes. "Maybe it would be better if they just stopped whatever they're doing - before it gets too crazy. You know . . .before it hurts too much down the line?"
"Mmmm hmmm."
"Yeah, cut it off before they have to deal with the pain. Or . . . or maybe it won't be that bad, cuz Spike could go home to a new girlfriend or something." The redhead turned her face to look out the window into the darkness rushing past. "I mean, camp relationships rarely last after the summer is over. I wouldn't blame him if he found someone else right away and forgot all about the seven-weeks at Sunny-D-" Before she knew what was happening, Oz had pulled the van over to the side of the road and turned off the motor. "Oz?" she asked, looking at him curiously.
Oz turned to face the woman beside him. "This has nothing to do with Spike and Buffy, does it?"
Willow stuttered and tried to re-cover from his assessment of the situation. "Er . . of . . .of course it is. What else would I be talking about?" she asked before quickly turning towards the window again, wiping her tears away before he could discover her fears about their relationship.
He faced the road, and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. "This time together with you has been great, but. . ."
Willow nodded, the stinging in her eyes returning at his statement. "Of course, I didn't think-"
"Let me finish," he said softly, turning back to his girlfriend. "I want you to know that this isn't just some summer fling for me. . ." Oz took Willow's small hand in his own and kissed it lightly. "Honestly, I didn't come to camp, wanting to find someone - but I did. And if it's alright with you, I'd like to just see where it goes - even when the summer is over."
Willow's eyes went wide and as she smiled, her face filled with hope. "Really?"
"Really," he nodded. When she leaned in to kiss him, he gently pushed her back. "But no more of the hypothetical scenarios, or games of any sort. You can talk to me about anything."
"Ok," Willow nodded rapidly. She leaned in to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. When she pulled away she was amazed to see that his eyes were still closed.
Oz's eyes slowly fluttered open and he gave Willow a crooked smile, sighing. "Willow kissage."
She giggled and gave him a longer kiss to tide them over before they made it to his apartment.
-------------------------
DAY 17
Buffy shook her head at the teenagers who were running all over the stage giggling and shrieking at one another. Taking a seat in the first row, she just sat quietly, stealing a quick glance at her watch. She had tried this tactic before with the younger kids, and it seemed to work much better than yelling.
Dawn was the first to notice Buffy's silence. She elbowed Janice in the ribs and pointed towards the instructor. Soon the sounds of 'Shhh!' and kids yelling 'Quiet!' filled the small theater.
Buffy just sat in silence until the very last kid had gotten the hint and shut up. She looked at her watch and then back to the teenagers on the stage, all now standing very still. "Wow, it only took five minutes that time." She stood up and walked towards the stage. "Too bad in that time we could have run the 'America' dance, 'Cool,' or even the entire 'Dance at the Gym'!" She smacked her hands to the stage, causing a few of the kids to jump. "You do know that today is supposed to be my day off, right?"
The kids stared at her in silence, frozen in fear.
"But I'm stuck here, busting my butt, trying to pull this show together in time for the performance next week-" Buffy chuckled and crossed her arms across her chest. "It's kind of funny - here I am giving you much needed extra rehearsal time, that could have been designated to another class. . .maybe one that actually cares about their show."
"We care. . ." a shaky voice popped up from the group.
"Really?" Buffy asked in disbelief. "Cause from where I'm standing it really didn't seem that way."
The teenagers looked to the ground in shame, not wanting to meet the furious eyes of their instructor.
"I only have two words for you."
"We suck?" Janice asked.
"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "One. Week." She accentuated each word very clearly so they understood the severity of the simple statement. Looking around at the faces before her, Buffy made sure to catch every single pair of eyes up on the stage. "Now let's get to work."
-------------------
"It's looking good."
"Thanks," Buffy replied, turning to face her mother.
"The show is really coming together Buffy - thank you," Joyce said, eyeing the teenagers up on the stage, who were now running through the 'Somewhere Ballet.' "Why don't you head back to Revello . . .take a load off. . ."
"But I still . . ." Buffy began; attempting to remind her mother of just how much needed to be done.
Joyce turned to her daughter and gave her a small smile. "Don't worry about it, you've done enough for one day."
Buffy's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. "You mean I can . . .?" Buffy began to ask, afraid she might be misunderstanding her mother's words.
Joyce grinned and nodded. "Take the rest of the night off . . .you've earned it."
"Are you sure? There's still the . . ."
"Just go!" Joyce demanded. "Before I change my mind!"
"You don't have to tell me twice," Buffy said grabbing her dance bag before turning back to her mother. "Actually, you did, but . . .bye!" She said running from the theater. She really didn't know what to do with herself for the rest of the night, but she was glad that it wouldn't involve anymore screaming kids or jazz squares.
Joyce clapped her hands, halting the music. "Ok, I'm taking over for the rest of the period. Let's do it once again from the top." The woman took over Buffy's seat and began jotting down notes of mistakes and any bits that needed cleaning. When the number was finished she looked over the completely filled notepad. "Alright, let's start with the first pas-de- deux. Dawn I need you to . . ." As Joyce gave instructions she couldn't help but think just how much her daughter, as well as her daughter's champion, owed her. 'I'm expecting two big hugs tomorrow.'
------------------------
Buffy walked into her room and threw her dance bag onto her chair. Suddenly, she was surrounded in darkness as a pair of hands covered her eyes. Buffy squealed and slammed her foot down on the culprit's foot. A loud 'Yeoooow!' filled the room and she turned around to see Spike sprawled on the floor holding his injured foot. "Spike?!" she asked in confusion.
"Not quite the reception I expected, pet. I thought you might be a tad happier to see me. Not to mention, that this foot," he lifted one leg in her direction, "was just about healed."
She rushed to his side and looked at him apologetically. "I'm so sorry. Aren't you supposed to be in LA right about now?" Spike groaned and leaned his weight on Buffy as she helped him limp over to her bed. When they were both seated, she began speaking again. "I mean, I saw you get into Oz's van."
Spike gave her a crooked smile and rubbed his ankle lightly. "Changed my mind. Didn't want to go a day without the pain and suffering that only YOU can cause, luv." Buffy smacked him playfully on the head and laughed when he yelped again. "See?"
"But, how did you know I was going to have some free time? I didn't even know."
"I didn't. So, this morning, I went to go see Joyce and convinced her to give you the night off. I told her how you couldn't live without me and that if you couldn't shag me silly you'd never get any work done at all."
Buffy blushed and smacked him again. "You so did not."
Spike grinned and quirked an eyebrow at the young woman beside him. "No, I really didn't. But I did tell her that you've been working really hard, and deserved a break." Taking a deep breath, he removed a piece of hair from Buffy's forehead, tucking it behind her ear. He let his hand linger next to her cheek for a moment before placing it in his lap. "What can I say? The Summers women can't resist me.
Buffy enveloped him in a big hug and whispered a quiet: "Thank you." Enjoying the feel of his body, Buffy began running light circles over his back with her fingertips.
"You're very welcome," he whispered back, squeezing her tightly, before petting her hair with one hand.
Buffy extracted herself from his grasp and stared deeply into his eyes. "Really . . .thank you," she stressed again.
Spike found himself entranced by her eyes. Forgetting all about their little arrangement he leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to hers, allowing his eyes to close. "My pleasure."
She gulped and ran one hand down his tight left bicep. "So what did you have in mind . . .for tonight?"
"Hmmm?" he asked, rubbing her cheek lightly with his own.
Buffy sighed and lifted her free hand to tangle into his hair. "I said, what now? What's the plan?"
"Plan?" he asked, lost in the feeling of her soft skin against his own.
"Shower," Buffy said, running her hands down his firm chest, settling on his waist.
"Ok," he responded, placing a light kiss to her temple.
Buffy giggled and pushed him away. "No . . .I need to shower." Spike opened his eyes realizing how quickly he had fallen into the whole 'touching Buffy' thing once again. "I'm all stinky from rehearsal," she said, squishing her nose up in the cute way he loved.
"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "I'll just . . ."
"Go back to The Crypt and wait for me to finish getting ready," Buffy directed. She really didn't know what she would do if she came in from the shower, all naked and wet, and he was here waiting for her on her bed. Actually, she knew EXACTLY what she would do - and that wasn't part of their current arrangement.
"You sure?" Spike asked, rising from the bed. Taking her hands in his, he lifted her to her feet, and waggled his eyebrows at her. "I can get all those hard to reach spots. . .I'm very handy with a loofah."
Buffy's face flushed and her heart beat quickened at the thought of a Spike sponge-bath. "No." She waved one finger at him before pushing him backwards towards the door. "I'll meet you at The Crypt in twenty- minutes."
"Ok," he said with a sigh, leaning in the doorway. "But, I'll have you know, that bathing can get kind of tricky. So friends, on occasion, do assist one another."
Buffy rolled her eyes and slammed the door in his face.
"So you're sure then?"
Buffy giggled at the voice from behind the door, and relaxed when she finally heard him exit the cabin. She quickly gathered her things and headed towards the bathroom, making sure she had the correct body wash - not because HE liked it so much, but because it was HER favorite.
-------------------
"Thank you for taking me to see that movie again - even though I've already seen it like 10 times."
Spike smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. "It's alright. Nicole Kidman in lingerie is definitely not a bad thing."
Buffy smacked him across the shoulder and continued walking through the campus. "Whatever. I would be mad, except Ewan McGregor is my future husband - so, drool away." She did a little skip, so she was a few paces ahead of him.
"Singing Obi-Wan does it for you, eh?" he asked, giving her sides a little poke.
She yelped and caught his hands with her own, trying to get him to stop his attack. When she finally broke free, she took off into the night, leaving Spike trailing behind. He finally caught up to her outside The Crypt, sitting on the back steps. "Slow poke," she said before running into the cabin.
Spike followed her inside, quickly making sure all the boys were asleep, and then entered his room, where Buffy was already sitting on his bed. Inhaling deeply, he closed the door behind him, quickly pushing the thought of ravishing her, out of his mind. "So . . .what now?"
"I don't care," she said before falling back to the pillows. "All I know is that I DO NOT want to go back to my own cabin."
Spike walked towards the bed and laid down beside her. "Well, what DO you want to do then?" he asked, clasping his hands behind his head.
Buffy rolled over to face the man beside her. "I could think of a few things I want to do, but they would be wrong."
"How so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"They just would." She stated, running a finger over the scar above his eye. "How did you get this?"
Spike closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of her soft touch. "Remember how I told you I was a reckless kid?"
"Uh huh," she said in a hushed voice, trailing her fingers across his sharp cheekbones.
"Well, I once messed with the wrong bloke. I was in a pub in the East End, playing pool with a few of my mates and decided to take this chap for a ride. When he realized I was hustlin' him, he decided to take it out on my face - with a pair of brass-knuckles, no less."
"Why didn't your friends try to help?" she asked, tucking her hands underneath her chin.
Spike opened his eyes, and looked deeply into the green ones before him. "They did. But me - being the hard-ass I was - would have none of it. I was a bit pissed at the time, and likin' a good brawl, took him on."
"Poor baby," Buffy giggled, before rubbing her thumb over his scar just once.
Spike blanched, and tried to defend his honor. "You should have seen him though - it wasn't pretty."
Buffy sighed and rolled over to her back once more. "Why do guys always do that? Try to prove their manhood with their fists- it's kinda lame."
Spike chuckled and poked her in the ribs. "Don't think I need my fists to prove my manhood, pet. You of all people should know that from personal experience."
Buffy laughed, "Whatever. . .someone's pretty sure of-" she turned to face him, and was met by a pair of stormy blue eyes, "him . . .self," she said with a gulp.
Spike raised one hand and placed it to her collarbone, sliding it slowly closer to her breast. "Maybe . . ." he whispered huskily, "you should go. Before . . ."
"Yeah," she responded softly, knowing exactly what was about to happen. "This could get . . ."
"Precisely." He nodded, moving his hand to her shoulder.
"Ok," she sat up and scooted towards the end of the bed. "I had a really good time tonight," she said, without looking back at him, afraid that if she did, she would never be able to leave.
"Me too." He didn't sit up from the bed, and just watched her walk towards the door.
Buffy grabbed onto the doorknob. "Spike?"
"Yeah, pet?" Came the voice from behind her.
She looked down to her feet, instead of in his direction. "Being the camp director's daughter means more than just extra responsibilities and proving myself." She paused to collect her thoughts, before beginning again. "It means watching people I care about disappear one by one, never to return again. But I'm always here; stuck with the memories that everyone else gets to lock in a little box and leave behind. It makes things . . .hard." She took a deep breath and began fiddling with the doorknob. "You see, I don't have the luxury of keeping things simple. I thought I could try, but that didn't work out." Buffy chuckled. "After that night it the day-off room, I realized just how much that couldn't work." She stopped laughing, and turned serious again. "That's just not me. I have strong emotions, and things go wacky because I know just how much it hurts when it ends. And it ALWAYS ends." When he didn't respond, she continued. "Sunny-D is like a bubble, separate from the real world. The thing is, bubbles eventually pop and life begins again. For me, this is it. My reality is the bubble AND the outside world. . .They are one and the same." Buffy sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know if that makes any sense, or if I'm just babbling. . .I just thought you should know that. . ." With that she exited the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Spike lay still on his bed, stunned at the words Buffy had just spoken. She had never really expressed her fears to him before. Some of them he'd known, but hearing her speak them aloud was something else. He walked over to his mirror and examined the scar above his eyebrow. He thought about all the things that had happened in his life since the day he got it; just how much he had changed - the man he had become. With a sigh, he shuffled back over to his bed and curled up with his pillow, allowing the events of the past two weeks to rush over him and carry him off to sleep.
Enjoy!
36. Separation Anxiety
Willow stole a glance to the back of the van, noting that everyone was fast asleep. They had been driving for a little over two hours, and the vehicle was silent - except for the low music from the radio and Xander's sporadic snoring. She turned to Oz who was staring intently at the road ahead of him, and then leaned her head to the passenger side window. Letting out a small sigh she began to speak very quietly, as not to disturb the sleeping bodies in the back. "So. . .Spike seemed pretty torn-up that Buffy couldn't come along."
Oz nodded, "I guess."
Willow took a deep breath and decided to continue her attempt to pry something - ANYTHING - from her monosyllabic boyfriend. "Who would have thought that after only two weeks he'd be so attached to her? I'd hate to see what happens at the end of the summer when he has to go home."
"Yah," was the only reply, from the seemingly oblivious driver.
Willow continued, "I don't know how they're going to survive it. They aren't even together now and it's all 'eeee,'" she squealed softly, raising her arms.
"So it seems," Oz said, furrowing his brows to see the road better.
Willow gulped, feeling the tears forming at the corner of her eyes. "Maybe it would be better if they just stopped whatever they're doing - before it gets too crazy. You know . . .before it hurts too much down the line?"
"Mmmm hmmm."
"Yeah, cut it off before they have to deal with the pain. Or . . . or maybe it won't be that bad, cuz Spike could go home to a new girlfriend or something." The redhead turned her face to look out the window into the darkness rushing past. "I mean, camp relationships rarely last after the summer is over. I wouldn't blame him if he found someone else right away and forgot all about the seven-weeks at Sunny-D-" Before she knew what was happening, Oz had pulled the van over to the side of the road and turned off the motor. "Oz?" she asked, looking at him curiously.
Oz turned to face the woman beside him. "This has nothing to do with Spike and Buffy, does it?"
Willow stuttered and tried to re-cover from his assessment of the situation. "Er . . of . . .of course it is. What else would I be talking about?" she asked before quickly turning towards the window again, wiping her tears away before he could discover her fears about their relationship.
He faced the road, and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. "This time together with you has been great, but. . ."
Willow nodded, the stinging in her eyes returning at his statement. "Of course, I didn't think-"
"Let me finish," he said softly, turning back to his girlfriend. "I want you to know that this isn't just some summer fling for me. . ." Oz took Willow's small hand in his own and kissed it lightly. "Honestly, I didn't come to camp, wanting to find someone - but I did. And if it's alright with you, I'd like to just see where it goes - even when the summer is over."
Willow's eyes went wide and as she smiled, her face filled with hope. "Really?"
"Really," he nodded. When she leaned in to kiss him, he gently pushed her back. "But no more of the hypothetical scenarios, or games of any sort. You can talk to me about anything."
"Ok," Willow nodded rapidly. She leaned in to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. When she pulled away she was amazed to see that his eyes were still closed.
Oz's eyes slowly fluttered open and he gave Willow a crooked smile, sighing. "Willow kissage."
She giggled and gave him a longer kiss to tide them over before they made it to his apartment.
-------------------------
DAY 17
Buffy shook her head at the teenagers who were running all over the stage giggling and shrieking at one another. Taking a seat in the first row, she just sat quietly, stealing a quick glance at her watch. She had tried this tactic before with the younger kids, and it seemed to work much better than yelling.
Dawn was the first to notice Buffy's silence. She elbowed Janice in the ribs and pointed towards the instructor. Soon the sounds of 'Shhh!' and kids yelling 'Quiet!' filled the small theater.
Buffy just sat in silence until the very last kid had gotten the hint and shut up. She looked at her watch and then back to the teenagers on the stage, all now standing very still. "Wow, it only took five minutes that time." She stood up and walked towards the stage. "Too bad in that time we could have run the 'America' dance, 'Cool,' or even the entire 'Dance at the Gym'!" She smacked her hands to the stage, causing a few of the kids to jump. "You do know that today is supposed to be my day off, right?"
The kids stared at her in silence, frozen in fear.
"But I'm stuck here, busting my butt, trying to pull this show together in time for the performance next week-" Buffy chuckled and crossed her arms across her chest. "It's kind of funny - here I am giving you much needed extra rehearsal time, that could have been designated to another class. . .maybe one that actually cares about their show."
"We care. . ." a shaky voice popped up from the group.
"Really?" Buffy asked in disbelief. "Cause from where I'm standing it really didn't seem that way."
The teenagers looked to the ground in shame, not wanting to meet the furious eyes of their instructor.
"I only have two words for you."
"We suck?" Janice asked.
"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "One. Week." She accentuated each word very clearly so they understood the severity of the simple statement. Looking around at the faces before her, Buffy made sure to catch every single pair of eyes up on the stage. "Now let's get to work."
-------------------
"It's looking good."
"Thanks," Buffy replied, turning to face her mother.
"The show is really coming together Buffy - thank you," Joyce said, eyeing the teenagers up on the stage, who were now running through the 'Somewhere Ballet.' "Why don't you head back to Revello . . .take a load off. . ."
"But I still . . ." Buffy began; attempting to remind her mother of just how much needed to be done.
Joyce turned to her daughter and gave her a small smile. "Don't worry about it, you've done enough for one day."
Buffy's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. "You mean I can . . .?" Buffy began to ask, afraid she might be misunderstanding her mother's words.
Joyce grinned and nodded. "Take the rest of the night off . . .you've earned it."
"Are you sure? There's still the . . ."
"Just go!" Joyce demanded. "Before I change my mind!"
"You don't have to tell me twice," Buffy said grabbing her dance bag before turning back to her mother. "Actually, you did, but . . .bye!" She said running from the theater. She really didn't know what to do with herself for the rest of the night, but she was glad that it wouldn't involve anymore screaming kids or jazz squares.
Joyce clapped her hands, halting the music. "Ok, I'm taking over for the rest of the period. Let's do it once again from the top." The woman took over Buffy's seat and began jotting down notes of mistakes and any bits that needed cleaning. When the number was finished she looked over the completely filled notepad. "Alright, let's start with the first pas-de- deux. Dawn I need you to . . ." As Joyce gave instructions she couldn't help but think just how much her daughter, as well as her daughter's champion, owed her. 'I'm expecting two big hugs tomorrow.'
------------------------
Buffy walked into her room and threw her dance bag onto her chair. Suddenly, she was surrounded in darkness as a pair of hands covered her eyes. Buffy squealed and slammed her foot down on the culprit's foot. A loud 'Yeoooow!' filled the room and she turned around to see Spike sprawled on the floor holding his injured foot. "Spike?!" she asked in confusion.
"Not quite the reception I expected, pet. I thought you might be a tad happier to see me. Not to mention, that this foot," he lifted one leg in her direction, "was just about healed."
She rushed to his side and looked at him apologetically. "I'm so sorry. Aren't you supposed to be in LA right about now?" Spike groaned and leaned his weight on Buffy as she helped him limp over to her bed. When they were both seated, she began speaking again. "I mean, I saw you get into Oz's van."
Spike gave her a crooked smile and rubbed his ankle lightly. "Changed my mind. Didn't want to go a day without the pain and suffering that only YOU can cause, luv." Buffy smacked him playfully on the head and laughed when he yelped again. "See?"
"But, how did you know I was going to have some free time? I didn't even know."
"I didn't. So, this morning, I went to go see Joyce and convinced her to give you the night off. I told her how you couldn't live without me and that if you couldn't shag me silly you'd never get any work done at all."
Buffy blushed and smacked him again. "You so did not."
Spike grinned and quirked an eyebrow at the young woman beside him. "No, I really didn't. But I did tell her that you've been working really hard, and deserved a break." Taking a deep breath, he removed a piece of hair from Buffy's forehead, tucking it behind her ear. He let his hand linger next to her cheek for a moment before placing it in his lap. "What can I say? The Summers women can't resist me.
Buffy enveloped him in a big hug and whispered a quiet: "Thank you." Enjoying the feel of his body, Buffy began running light circles over his back with her fingertips.
"You're very welcome," he whispered back, squeezing her tightly, before petting her hair with one hand.
Buffy extracted herself from his grasp and stared deeply into his eyes. "Really . . .thank you," she stressed again.
Spike found himself entranced by her eyes. Forgetting all about their little arrangement he leaned in closer, pressing his forehead to hers, allowing his eyes to close. "My pleasure."
She gulped and ran one hand down his tight left bicep. "So what did you have in mind . . .for tonight?"
"Hmmm?" he asked, rubbing her cheek lightly with his own.
Buffy sighed and lifted her free hand to tangle into his hair. "I said, what now? What's the plan?"
"Plan?" he asked, lost in the feeling of her soft skin against his own.
"Shower," Buffy said, running her hands down his firm chest, settling on his waist.
"Ok," he responded, placing a light kiss to her temple.
Buffy giggled and pushed him away. "No . . .I need to shower." Spike opened his eyes realizing how quickly he had fallen into the whole 'touching Buffy' thing once again. "I'm all stinky from rehearsal," she said, squishing her nose up in the cute way he loved.
"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "I'll just . . ."
"Go back to The Crypt and wait for me to finish getting ready," Buffy directed. She really didn't know what she would do if she came in from the shower, all naked and wet, and he was here waiting for her on her bed. Actually, she knew EXACTLY what she would do - and that wasn't part of their current arrangement.
"You sure?" Spike asked, rising from the bed. Taking her hands in his, he lifted her to her feet, and waggled his eyebrows at her. "I can get all those hard to reach spots. . .I'm very handy with a loofah."
Buffy's face flushed and her heart beat quickened at the thought of a Spike sponge-bath. "No." She waved one finger at him before pushing him backwards towards the door. "I'll meet you at The Crypt in twenty- minutes."
"Ok," he said with a sigh, leaning in the doorway. "But, I'll have you know, that bathing can get kind of tricky. So friends, on occasion, do assist one another."
Buffy rolled her eyes and slammed the door in his face.
"So you're sure then?"
Buffy giggled at the voice from behind the door, and relaxed when she finally heard him exit the cabin. She quickly gathered her things and headed towards the bathroom, making sure she had the correct body wash - not because HE liked it so much, but because it was HER favorite.
-------------------
"Thank you for taking me to see that movie again - even though I've already seen it like 10 times."
Spike smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. "It's alright. Nicole Kidman in lingerie is definitely not a bad thing."
Buffy smacked him across the shoulder and continued walking through the campus. "Whatever. I would be mad, except Ewan McGregor is my future husband - so, drool away." She did a little skip, so she was a few paces ahead of him.
"Singing Obi-Wan does it for you, eh?" he asked, giving her sides a little poke.
She yelped and caught his hands with her own, trying to get him to stop his attack. When she finally broke free, she took off into the night, leaving Spike trailing behind. He finally caught up to her outside The Crypt, sitting on the back steps. "Slow poke," she said before running into the cabin.
Spike followed her inside, quickly making sure all the boys were asleep, and then entered his room, where Buffy was already sitting on his bed. Inhaling deeply, he closed the door behind him, quickly pushing the thought of ravishing her, out of his mind. "So . . .what now?"
"I don't care," she said before falling back to the pillows. "All I know is that I DO NOT want to go back to my own cabin."
Spike walked towards the bed and laid down beside her. "Well, what DO you want to do then?" he asked, clasping his hands behind his head.
Buffy rolled over to face the man beside her. "I could think of a few things I want to do, but they would be wrong."
"How so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"They just would." She stated, running a finger over the scar above his eye. "How did you get this?"
Spike closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of her soft touch. "Remember how I told you I was a reckless kid?"
"Uh huh," she said in a hushed voice, trailing her fingers across his sharp cheekbones.
"Well, I once messed with the wrong bloke. I was in a pub in the East End, playing pool with a few of my mates and decided to take this chap for a ride. When he realized I was hustlin' him, he decided to take it out on my face - with a pair of brass-knuckles, no less."
"Why didn't your friends try to help?" she asked, tucking her hands underneath her chin.
Spike opened his eyes, and looked deeply into the green ones before him. "They did. But me - being the hard-ass I was - would have none of it. I was a bit pissed at the time, and likin' a good brawl, took him on."
"Poor baby," Buffy giggled, before rubbing her thumb over his scar just once.
Spike blanched, and tried to defend his honor. "You should have seen him though - it wasn't pretty."
Buffy sighed and rolled over to her back once more. "Why do guys always do that? Try to prove their manhood with their fists- it's kinda lame."
Spike chuckled and poked her in the ribs. "Don't think I need my fists to prove my manhood, pet. You of all people should know that from personal experience."
Buffy laughed, "Whatever. . .someone's pretty sure of-" she turned to face him, and was met by a pair of stormy blue eyes, "him . . .self," she said with a gulp.
Spike raised one hand and placed it to her collarbone, sliding it slowly closer to her breast. "Maybe . . ." he whispered huskily, "you should go. Before . . ."
"Yeah," she responded softly, knowing exactly what was about to happen. "This could get . . ."
"Precisely." He nodded, moving his hand to her shoulder.
"Ok," she sat up and scooted towards the end of the bed. "I had a really good time tonight," she said, without looking back at him, afraid that if she did, she would never be able to leave.
"Me too." He didn't sit up from the bed, and just watched her walk towards the door.
Buffy grabbed onto the doorknob. "Spike?"
"Yeah, pet?" Came the voice from behind her.
She looked down to her feet, instead of in his direction. "Being the camp director's daughter means more than just extra responsibilities and proving myself." She paused to collect her thoughts, before beginning again. "It means watching people I care about disappear one by one, never to return again. But I'm always here; stuck with the memories that everyone else gets to lock in a little box and leave behind. It makes things . . .hard." She took a deep breath and began fiddling with the doorknob. "You see, I don't have the luxury of keeping things simple. I thought I could try, but that didn't work out." Buffy chuckled. "After that night it the day-off room, I realized just how much that couldn't work." She stopped laughing, and turned serious again. "That's just not me. I have strong emotions, and things go wacky because I know just how much it hurts when it ends. And it ALWAYS ends." When he didn't respond, she continued. "Sunny-D is like a bubble, separate from the real world. The thing is, bubbles eventually pop and life begins again. For me, this is it. My reality is the bubble AND the outside world. . .They are one and the same." Buffy sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know if that makes any sense, or if I'm just babbling. . .I just thought you should know that. . ." With that she exited the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Spike lay still on his bed, stunned at the words Buffy had just spoken. She had never really expressed her fears to him before. Some of them he'd known, but hearing her speak them aloud was something else. He walked over to his mirror and examined the scar above his eyebrow. He thought about all the things that had happened in his life since the day he got it; just how much he had changed - the man he had become. With a sigh, he shuffled back over to his bed and curled up with his pillow, allowing the events of the past two weeks to rush over him and carry him off to sleep.