Description: AU. Buffy as an army brat, imagine the possibilities. Anyway, she moves to Sunnydale and meets William "Spike" O'Connor. But Buffy's learned in the past not to get too close to people because she always ends up leaving. So what will happen when Buffy finally falls head over heels in love?

Rating: PG-13 Pairing: Buffy/Spike (again.) ** Author's Notes: Lyrics are from Aretha Franklin, excellent song! **
She felt wonderful; an essence of confidence radiated from her body. Standing in front of her full-length mirror, Buffy stared at her reflection and smiled.

The gang had decided to spend the long weekend at the beach; Willow's uncle had an oceanfront cottage that he lent to the kids. Being that Monday was a holiday and Tuesday was a Teacher's Open House, Buffy wasn't due back at Sunnydale High for four days. Four whole days to spend lounging in the warm sun and splashing in the cool waters of the Pacific.

At first her mom and Giles were completely against the idea; the thought of their precious baby girl spending the night in a strange place with people she hardly knew and boys. The minute Giles heard the names Spike, Xander, and Oz his eyes flashed bright with anger.

"There's no way you're spending the night with teenage boys."

"Come on, Giles!" Buffy had pleaded, hoping to sway her stepfather's opinion. "It's not like I'm a child, I'm almost seventeen!"

"You're not old enough to be sleeping away from home in the same house as teenage boys with no adult supervision," he retorted.

"But there will be an adult there," Buffy lied. As soon as the words left her lips, she knew she was not getting out of this one. "Willow's uncle will be there the whole time." Buffy was silently praying that Giles could not read her twitchy behavior.

It had taken about four hours of convincing arguments from both sides, but her parents' wills were finally broken. Studying her reflection, Buffy decided that she was ready. She wore a bright pink halter-top, a pair of Capri pants, and flip-flops. A large duffle bag sat at her feet, accompanied by a bright blue messenger bag filled with CDs, magazines, and anything else needed for entertainment on the ride there. Beside these two bags stood yet another, a medium-sized bag filled with beach towels, sunscreen, and three different swimsuits. Since Buffy couldn't decide which suit to take, she had packed all three. Although she was only going to be gone for four days, Buffy had packed enough clothes to stay for a month. A soft rapping at Buffy's bedroom door caught her attention. "Come in," she called, struggling with the zipper on one of her duffels.

"All packed?" a male voice asked from behind her.

"Yes," Buffy answered, knowing exactly who was there. She straightened and turned around to see Giles standing in her doorway, leaning against the frame. His face was lined with uncertainty, his prior decision rolling around in his mind. "Giles," Buffy groaned hefting one of the large bags onto her shoulder, "we've been over this. Nothing's going to happen this weekend. It's just a bunch of teenagers gathering at the beach, hanging out, and possibly throwing me a birthday party. I'm pretty sure about that one." "And there will be an adult there?" he asked, grabbing the other two bags and following Buffy out of the room.

"Giles," Buffy whined. She reached the bottom step and dropped her duffel near the door. "We've covered this before." Buffy took a deep breath before setting into her deep-seeded lie. "Willow's uncle will be at the cabin the entire time. We will only be there for four days, and it is not like it's out in the middle of nowhere. The house is only two hours away, and I swear I'll call you as soon as we get there."

"And each night," Joyce added, entering the hallway from the living room. "You've got everything packed? Sunscreen, shampoo, towels? What about your cell phone?"

"Yes, mom," Buffy replied with a slight roll of her eyes. Giles was about to begin the lecture about responsibilities again when a shrill beep sounded in the Summers' driveway. "That's them!" Buffy announced happily. She dashed to the door and flung it open. Oz's van was parked in the driveway, and Xander, Willow, Tara and Spike all climbed out. Buffy turned quickly to give her mother a hug and pick up one of her duffels. "Thanks again for letting me go." She directed this at both her mom and Giles.

"Hey, Buffy!" Willow greeted excitedly as she stood just outside the door. "Mrs. Summers, Mr. Giles."

"Hi, Willow," Joyce greeted the young redhead. Giles smiled at the girl and moved to the living room area.

"Hello, Mrs. Summers." Spike followed behind Willow, and was quickly followed by Tara.

The older woman nodded to the bleached teen. She wasn't exactly thrilled about the children's little outing, but she trusted her daughter and agreed that she needed more of a social life. Her husband on the other hand had greatly disagreed. He had insisted that Buffy was too young to be spending the weekend in a house with teenage boys, which he so affectionately called "hormonally driven animals". It took her quite a while to persuade him to her way of thinking, but eventually he had come around.

"Ready, pet?" Spike asked Buffy.

"Yes," she answered, "and don't call me pet."

Giving her his trademark cocky grin, Spike finally noticed the multiple bags lying near his feet. "You do know we'll only be gone for a couple days right, luv?" He eyed her curiously. "Okay, Spike, say it with me: Buuuuufffffyyyy. Not pet, not luv, not any other British slang you can come up with," Buffy scolded him with a partial grin. "And I only packed the essentials. There's nothing in those bags that I don't need." "I highly doubt that," Spike mumbled before hefting the two duffels onto his shoulders. "God, these things weigh a ton." "Stop complaining!" Buffy shouted after the blonde. Giving her mother a quick hug, she picked up her messenger bag, strung it around her shoulders, and headed out the door, following Willow and Tara. Joyce sighed heavily before she shut the door, walking into the living room, and snaking her arms around her husband's waist. "It'll be fine," she assured him, though she wasn't entirely sure herself. "I've just got a bad feeling about this." He stared out the window, watching the van back out of the driveway and take off down the road at a rapid speed.

* *

"Two hours on the road," Spike announced as they pulled away from the Summers' house. "I get to pick the tunes."

A chorus of objections sounded from the back seats. "No way in hell is Spike picking the music!" "He'll put something stupid like punk rock on!" "Or the Ramones!" The passengers all erupted into laughter except for Oz and Spike. Spike because it was his taste in music that was being insulted, and Oz-it'd be a cold day in hell before he broke out into any type of laughter.

"Why don't we just turn on the radio to whatever station will come in?" Xander suggested earning a round of 'Okays' and 'I guess so' from the group.

With an overly dramatic groan, Spike leaned forward from his position in the front seat and turned the dial on the radio. It sprang to life, fluorescent green numbers appearing on black screen. A loud crackling of static dawned in the speakers and Spike promptly turned them down. "Here we go," he said giving the dial a good spin and letting it stop. After a moment of nothing but static, a faint signal began to break through. Lyrics to a familiar song found their way to Buffy's ears and registered quickly in her mind. "Oh, I love this song! Turn it up!" she shouted. The blonde bobbed her head to the rhythm and sang along. At first I was afraid.

I was petrified.

I kept thinking I could never live

Without you by my side.

But then I spent so many nights

Just thinking how you'd did me wrong.

I grew strong.

I learned how to get along.

Willow quickly joined in, both girls shouting at the top of their lungs.

And so you're back from outer space.

I just walked in to find you here

Without that look upon your face.

I should have changed that stupid lock.

I should have made you leave your key

If I'd have known for just one second

You'd be back to bother me.

Oh now go.

Walk out the door.

Just turn around now.

´Cause you're not welcome anymore.

Weren't you the one

Who tried to hurt me with goodbye?

Did you think I'd crumble?

Did you think I'd lay down and die?'

Having enough of the Harlem Girls Choir in the back seat, Spike leaned forward and switched off the radio.

"Hey!" Buffy protested from the backseat. "I like that song!"

"Me too!" Willow added.

"And I like my eardrums the way they are." Spike sneered. "In the non- bleeding sense."

"Oh, come on it wasn't that bad!" Xander argued. Spike promptly turned in his seat and stared at the brunette in the back. "What?" Xander asked incredulously. "Hey, I'm all alone in the back with three girls. If I say there singing was terrible-which it wasn't-" he quickly amended, "I'll get ripped limb from limb. It won't be pretty." "So what are we supposed to do without music?" Buffy whined. "We could always resort to that caveman form of communication," Spike suggested with a smirk. Seeing the confused and bewildered faces of his companions, he added, "Talking." "Oh," Buffy said with little enthusiasm. She hated talking; especially because it usually led to her having to tell the story of her life to people she had only known a few months. Not that her life story wasn't interesting; what with living in a different place every year, going to different schools, meeting important people-but recalling everything that she had missed by not being a "normal kid" tended to depress her. "Why don't we play a game or something?" Willow offered, noting Buffy's uncomfortable state.

"Twenty Questions?" Xander asked excitedly. Everyone knew that he was the Twenty Questions champ.

"I hate that game," Spike groaned. "Oh come on," Xander retorted. "It's a fun game!" "Yeah because you always win." "Exactly!" he shouted. "That's why it's so fun." 'Oh yeah,' Buffy thought as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. 'This is going to be a long trip.'

* *

"Oh my God, Will." Buffy gasped as she took in the sight of the beach house. "This place is beautiful."

"Yeah, I kinda like it," Willow agreed. The house was gorgeous-beyond gorgeous-it was perfect. A small cottage type home with one floor. A small porch jutted out from the front, two old wicker rocking chairs swaying with the wind. It was only a short distance, through a narrow path in the high grass, to the beach. The distinct sounds of seagulls and crashing waves sounded in Buffy's ears. The sun felt warm against her bare shoulders and face. 'This is going to be great,'kirkpatrick Buffy thought idly. 'Please be great.'