(A/N: Very sorry that it's been delayed for months. RL has been really crazy.)

Chapter 26: Unwind

"Knock, knock!" Spike leaned against the doorframe casually and threw a sexy smirk Buffy's way. She looked up and smiled back, putting a halt on her writing.

"Hey, you. How did you know I was back already?"

"Well, if you haven't noticed I left messages twice a day, and apparently the last time I called, your mom answered it before she went out of town again." He stalked toward her desk as he glanced around the room that was originally Joyce's office.

"Oh." Buffy was silent for a while, recalling the amusing messages that Spike left for her.

Thank goodness that her mother didn't check the messages before she did. She secretly replaced the cassette with a new one and thought of keeping Spike's messages for some useful purpose later on. She had giggled, and was touched and aroused by them…except the last one where he was somewhere with thumping noises surrounding him. She assumed he must be at the Bronze. Buffy had smiled to herself that Spike was leaving a message while he was out with friends, which she presumed were Xander and Willow. But once she heard the female voice shouting his name, her ears perked up and she immediately replayed the message. That female voice…she was sure it wasn't Willow's. It was a stranger's voice. A female stranger's voice that she did not recognize; however, the owner obviously knew Spike. She was going to call and confront him but her mother had dragged her to the gallery to finish up some necessary work before Joyce flew to New York again.

"Who was that girl?" Buffy asked as she watched Spike randomly look through the stack of papers on her desk. His fingers were still tangled in between the papers when he looked up at her.

"Huh?"

"Who was that girl? The girl who…um…called you when you left me a message." She tried her best to ask as nonchalant as possible.

Spike drew his brows together in a frown, trying to remember the person she was talking about. "Oh. That was Anya. Remember the girl I talked to once when Dingoes Ate My Baby performed at the Bronze?"

It was Buffy's turn to frown. The name did ring a bell. She started to recollect the time when she had been worriedly searching for him, since he hadn't returned from having a smoke outside the club. She remembered she'd been scowling over the interaction between Spike and a blond girl. And during that time, she had been fighting with her emotions, trying to control her jealousy.

Jealousy? What jealousy? Buffy denied to herself. "Yeah, I think I remember that." She said, shrugging as if the incident wasn't that big of a deal that she only remembered it vaguely.

Spike stared at her skeptically. A smile danced on his lips as he studied her reaction. "You're jealous." He stated, his smile broadening at the thought of how adorable she was trying to act as coolly as possible.

"I am not!" She gasped, widening her eyes. Was it that obvious?

"Yes, you are. Look at you, trying to act like it was nothing." He said, clearly amused.

"Well, it was nothing." She paused, then cast an unsure gaze in his direction. "Right?"

Spike shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in his chair across from her. "She did offer me sex though…"

"What?!?" Buffy yelled, appalled. She couldn't help the high-pitched tone in her voice but damn! She only went to New York for two days and her boyfriend had been seduced by other girl?

He chuckled at her reaction. "See? You're jealous."

"At this point, I don't think jealous is the word I prefer to use. More like appalled. How the hell did you meet her again? A-and what is she anyway, a hooker?"

"Hey! She's nothing of that sort." Spike frowned at her response, clearly not liking her impression of his new friend. "Okay, maybe she is a little too upfront but she's nice. You'll like her."

Buffy scoffed. "Sure, when are you going to introduce us? Oh, let me guess, will it be when she tries to get in your pants again?" Spike rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Buffy, we're just friends. If you don't believe it, ask Tara." At the unfamiliar name he mentioned, she narrowed her eyes into slits, glaring at him as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"And I know this girl because…?" She asked sarcastically.

"Oh, um, Tara is Anya's friend."

Buffy scoffed again. "Great! Ask her best friend if she's humping my boyfriend."

Spike growled in irritation as he stood up abruptly from his seat. "Jesus, Buffy! Don't you think you're overreacting a bit over this? You told me you were going to New York right before left for the airport. You promised you'd spend time with me but it never happened. And for your information, Xander was busy with Willow. So I'm sorry if I made new friends while you were gone." 

Buffy was stunned by his explosion. She hadn't expected him to be quite so upset about her promise that she had been unable to keep. "I…I'm sorry. I didn't realize that I-" She stopped, then started again. "I-It's just that gallery work has been overwhelming me, and spending time with my mom again has been a blast. I'm, I'm sorry." She pursed her lips together, regretting every single word she had used to accuse him earlier.

Spike met her gaze and found the genuine apology behind her hazel orbs. He sighed heavily. "Well, I missed you."

She smiled as she stood up and approached him. "I missed you, too." She said before leaning up and kissing him. The kiss was languid. Wanting to taste each other thoroughly, their tongues probed and massaged each other with passion that had been buried while they were apart.

Their foreheads touched as they broke their kiss. Spike closed his eyes, a lazy smile crossed over his features. "Wanna get away from work for a while?" He suggested, leaning back to look her in the eye.

Buffy sighed, withdrawing from him. "Can't. Still have zillion things to do."

He immediately rolled his eyes heavenward and shook his head. "I thought your mother wanted you to prioritize your education and youth. Why so much work?" She only shrugged as she seated herself on the desk.

"Maybe she realizes how much I'm loving this job?" Buffy offered. Spike smiled tightly. He too, knew how much this job meant to her. He was happy for her, really. Seeing her beam every time she told him about her so-called job adventure almost made their lost time together pay off. Well, almost.

Standing right in front of her, he stared at her and sighed audibly. "Yeah, I get that." He shoved his hands into his duster pockets before continuing, "I guess I can find some way to spend the afternoon. Call Anya or Tara, maybe. Or both." He emphasized the last word as he scratched his chin and looked away from her.

A frown passed over Buffy's face but he didn't see it. She kept quiet until he was about to make his way out from the office. Grabbing his arm, she halted his move. "No, don't. I-I mean stay here." Spike arched one eyebrow at her request; his smile was hidden carefully. Buffy glanced at her desk, then back to him. "I think…I could use a break or two." She smiled tightly, trying hard to bottle up her jealousy.

"Are you sure? Cause I don't want you to be distracted. I could just go away and come back once you've finished—"

"No. It's okay." She assured him quickly. "Getting distracted is okay in my book." Buffy looked him up and down and grinned wickedly. "Especially by you."

He smirked. "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning up to kiss him. She moaned as Spike thrust his tongue into her mouth and massaged hers with his. Closing their distance, his hand wormed its way under her skirt.

Buffy pulled away, panting harshly. "Wait! Maybe we shouldn't do this here."

"We should. It can't wait." Spike murmured against her lips, already unbuttoning her blouse. She conceded when his hand began kneading her breasts.

Oh, what the hell. She swept the papers away before she lay down above the desk, bringing Spike down with her.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"Honey, can you go down to basement and check if all the items for Mr. Travers are there? The courier is going to pick them up today." Joyce said as she thumbed through the list of orders. Finding the one she searched for, she shoved the list and pointed the certain order. "There should be two large boxes, each of them containing 15 statues so that means there should be 30 altogether."

"Gee, mom. I never thought I'd need help with multiplication. Thanks for coming to my rescue." Joyce gave a mocking glare before smiling at her daughter.

"Just go down there and check, okay?" She shooed her with a wave of hand. Shaking her head, she went back to her paper.

Buffy rubbed her eyes as she made a beeline to the basement. She hadn't had much sleep lately. Work had been taking most of her time after school; in addition to the schoolwork she had everyday. But she wasn't complaining. She loved her job and how she bonded with her mother over it. No, she wouldn't complain about it.

But her body disagreed with her heart. All her muscles were aching, drained. Fatigue lines drew across her face yet she didn't take note of it, or maybe refused to. She opened the basement door and looked down the list as she walked in. She shook her head, her eyes were blurry. Glancing at the first step of the staircase, she now felt lightheaded, her head started to spin. She tried to close her eyes for brief seconds but they wouldn't flutter back open when she tried to force them to.

The first step down was taken and she stretched her arm to reach for the bar to hold onto. Her legs became wobbly, she tried to open her eyes again but her eyelids felt like they weighed several pounds.

She relented at last as she closed her eyes fully, her body rolling down the staircase, knocking her unconscious.

Joyce went after her fifteen minutes later, wondering what was taking Buffy so long to check on just two packages.  Her silent question was answered immediately once she entered the basement and looked down to the bottom of the stairs. "Oh my god, Buffy!" She cried.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"Bloody hell!" Spike winced when his guitar string cut through his thumb.

"You okay, man?" Xander turned his head to him, frowning. His friend was strumming his guitar smoothly before the note went off without reason.

" Yeah, guess so." Spike examined his thumb, then sucked on it to prevent further bleeding.

The brunette studied him for a minute before asked him again. "Something wrong? You look, I don't know…distracted."

"What? Oh. I just-" He paused for a while, trying to explain exactly what was bothering him. "I don't know; I just feel something's wrong, is all. I just…don't know exactly what it is." He put his guitar away and made his way to the kitchen, Xander was close behind.

"Huh. Wait, I saw this situation once. Or maybe I read it somewhere. Yes, that's right!" Xander beamed, wagging both of his index fingers at him. "It's from one of Willow's new age books. If a person can feel what the other feels, it means they have a special deep connection. You know, like soulmates." He chuckled. "Of course, I don't really believe in those kinds of things."

Spike pondered his words as he nursed his thumb with a bandage. He looked back at his friend and smiled tightly. "I'm gonna go to the gallery. See if Buffy wants to join us at the beach later."

"Alright. I need to pick up Willow too. I'll see you there."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Spike was making his way to Joyce's office when he spotted Cecily behind her desk. Drawing his brows in a frown, he approached her. "I thought you were taking a week off, what with the baby on its way soon."

Cecily tapped the stack of papers, making them even as she said, "I am but Joyce called me earlier to work for the rest of the day after Buffy fainted this afternoon."

He frowned. "What? Where is—"

"—in the office." She cut him off with a slight nod toward Joyce's office with her head. Spike immediately stalked to it, worry etching his features. He didn't bother to knock, didn't even bother to acknowledge Joyce as he rushed toward Buffy and kneeled beside her while she lay on the couch with one arm across her forehead.

"I'll leave you two alone." Joyce announced with a sympathetic smile. It was then that Spike realized Buffy wasn't alone. He smiled gratefully before Joyce turned around and closed the door behind her.

"Buffy, you okay? What happened?" He placed one hand first on her forehead, then her cheeks, finally resting it on her neck. The other hand stroked her arm soothingly.

"I'm okay. Just passed out, is all. I didn't have anything for breakfast so I felt kinda woozy earlier. But I'm fine now, really." Looking at him, she knew he didn't believe her. She sighed. "I am fine, Spike." She tried to convince him again.

"Buffy, you're working too hard. Look at you. You work everyday, even weekends. You're still in high school, Buffy. Hell, you're not even close to graduating. It's still months away."

"But I love my job. It's something I can do that doesn't require straight A's on my report card. I'm not a genius like you, Spike. Besides, I have a lot of free time. Why not use it for doing something useful, like helping my mother." Spike was hurt. He lowered his gaze before looking back at her.

"So it's better spending time working than being with me then?" She sighed, knowing she shouldn't have said what she did about having free time.  

"I didn't mean it like that. Of course I love to spend time with you. But please try to understand. I feel like I can bond with my mother again now that I'm working for her." He looked into her eyes. He knew he would eventually give in to her pleas. And most of all, he knew how she had missed having bonding time with her mother.

Spike sighed, conceding. "Right. Sorry, I was out of line." Her lips curled into a smile and he smiled back, lacing his fingers with hers. 

Buffy gazed down to their joining hands. It was then that she noticed his bandaged thumb. She frowned. "What happened to your thumb?"

"Oh, I—" He paused as he remembered what Xander said. He chuckled and shook his head. "It was nothing. Nothing serious." Turning his head to Joyce's desk, he grinned slyly. "So, has your mom found out about our rampant sexcapades on her desk?" A crimson blush coloured her cheeks and she swatted his chest hard.

to be continued.