Come Morning

A/N and Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am not making any money from this. Thank you so much for the reviews- they are the bestest things ever! Ignore the line ''m not little' it is simply a tribute to Little Ivanhoe, now sadly deceased. This chapter's song is 'Serenade' by Leona Naess, I am not a poet, and I do love to include music, so be glad I'm stealing other people's stuff rather than trying to write my own! Oh, and did you notice how fast I updated!

Drusilla Hawkins is without a doubt the most horrible person on the face of the earth. I say this here and now, because this is an extremely biased story, and you should know.

Spike loved Drusilla more than life itself- the only way he can love- and Drusilla cheated on him with a half-dozen guys not worth half of him. Everyone but Spike knew and he didn't believe us. And when he found out… when he found out it broke him. He lost his resolve and just sort of… faded.

He was still Spike, all snark and pride, but the part of him that's William- friendship, love and unswerving loyalty, it got lost in the middle of whatever it was he was going through. He drank, a lot more than he usually does, and worse, Clem told me years later.

But he got found. I found him, and that's all that will ever matter about that story. Spike came back into living colour, and Drusilla is the most horrible person on the face of the earth.

"Hey," Buffy said, overly cheerfully, into her cell phone as she walked off campus, quickly. Riley had been begging for forgiveness since he'd captured her outside of the literature class Spike had talked her into taking, even though she didn't want too. She had finally reminded him that a restraining order was still fully in the cards, and stormed off, but she didn't exactly trust him to stay away.

"Mmphgrr," Spike mumbled into his in his bedroom at Giles's, where he hadn't slept in years, but had been somehow coaxed into doing the night before. He understood it was almost eleven in the morning and he wasn't awake, let alone ready to pick Buffy up for brunch. He was also exhausted, pissed off, frustrated and deprived of a fantastic dream about the petite blonde. It had involved a Christmas tree and a

chandelier and probably shouldn't be spoken about in public. "'t's early."

"A little."

"You just agreed with me. Wha's wrong?" Spike asked, running a hand through his hair as he sat up and stretched his cramped legs- bunk beds might have seemed an excellent idea at twelve, but he had only just remembered what a bitch they'd been after his tenth-grade growth spurt, and was not enjoying it.

"Nothing," at that point, the various things wrong with Spike's life and current disposition attacked.

"Look, pet, we kissed. We'll talk, jus' not righ' now. Soon, 'cause otherwise it'll drive you outta your li'l blonde head. But, 'm very tired, and 've got some pieces to say a' home this mornin' that can't go withou' sayin'. So'm cancellin' our thing, but stop bein' in denial and stop not bein' you, 'cause it doesn' amuse. Have a good day, gimme a call if your former's up to any tricks a' all. Got me?"

"Got you," Buffy said, slightly shell shocked from the outburst- she'd kind of expected Spike to go into the same land of the dreamy denial she was so happy in. And, yet, something new struck her in the obvious concern behind the words, something different that set off a burning feeling in her stomach.

"You're still agreein'," Spike accused, "whatever weird mojo was workin' on you last night, we're still us, 'f you can boil it down to three sentences or less- an' short words'd be a favour too, 'll deal with the problem," Buffy grinned, suddenly back in the territory of the familiar. Spike's firm belief that he could fix most things wrong with her life was almost comforting.

"I didn't hate kissing you," she blurted, quickly as she came up to her dorm.

"No' many women do," Spike said. "'f you did I woulda been more worried 'bout your datin' than usual."

"Did you hate kissing me?" Buffy asked, nervously, and not quite sure why she wanted to know at all. Though she did know it was vitally important he respond that he hadn't.

"Have you seen you? 'Course I didn', but we'll talk abou' it later," Spike said, cheerfully, taking the fact that she wanted to know as a good sign for him. Buffy smiled, though she still had no clue why and remembered, as she had been doing since she woke up, the soft feel of his embrace and the taste of his lips against hers.

"Yeah, Dawn wants you to take her out today, but if you haven't got time, I'll tell her," Buffy said, remembering what her sister had said.

"'ve always got time for my bit, tell her 'll be round the wanker's at four," Spike said, "an' then you an' I'll get somethin' to eat tonight. Chat a bit."

"Sounds good," Buffy said.

"Your shakin' in your stylish-yet-affordable boots, Goldilocks. Dunno why, though, 't's hardly 's though we got sweaty," Spike said, shaking his head, more to clear of the image than for expression. Buffy bit her lip at the blush that rose to her cheek far more quickly than usual at his innuendos. And then she thought about what he had just said and was almost lost before she quickly snapped herself back to reality.

"Yeah but…" Buffy sighed, opening her door and looking around for Willow, thankful only to see a note that she was at Oz's and probably would be for the rest of the day. "But it was a good kiss."

"Yeah," Spike agreed, enthusiastically. "An' I dunno… I guess I wouldn' mind tryin' again sometime," he said, drawling it nervously. "But 'f we're gonna have this conversation, we're gonna have 't face 't face. At six, over Chinese."

"Restaurant?"

"'F that's where you want 't eat," Spike agreed. "But 'm not gonna by shy, Goldie. We're friends, an' whatever else happened, we'll always be that so long as 've got a say in the matter. So 'll eat at the restaurant, or I could bring it round yours. T's you as has the blushing bride syndrome."

"You have a reputation for being sensitive," Buffy accused, a light note of teasing in her voice for the first time that morning.

"Uh-huh," Spike said, launching himself off the bed and landing with a thud. "'m gonna go see what Rupes' up to, 'll see you a' six, with Chinese. We can eat at yours or in the public location o' your choosin'. Deal?"

"Deal, six, my place. You aren't a complete and total pig."

"Can I get tha' in writing?" Spike asked, then, not waiting for an answer, "Bye, Goldie." He turned the phone off and turned for the shower.

Buffy, on the other hand stared at hers, if she had read into that conversation what she thought she had- and she credited herself with knowing Spike better than anyone else except Giles- he was happy they'd kissed. Which raised a new questions: was she happy they'd kissed.

She had to sit down when she realized the answer was yes.

Yet it was, she had felt absolute rightness in his arms, like she'd been lost for years and now she was home. Like she'd just been handed everything she'd ever wanted and then something extra just for kicks. And while she wanted nothing more, she just now noticed, than to go back home, she was also scared out of her mind. After all, it wasn't supposed to feel so right with one person… it was supposed to feel…

She didn't know, she just knew that she couldn't feel that wonderful and stay that way.

But she also knew that she couldn't feel it just once.

"Mornin' Da," Spike said, rubbing a towel through his hair with one hand and taking his father's mug of coffee with the other.

"It's great to have you home," Giles said, through gritted teeth as his son collapsed into one of the chairs.

"Innit jus'?" Spike said, grinning.

"Remind me why I had children," Giles said, to no one in particular.

"You wanted a girl, an', t' be fair, you've always liked Lee well enough," Spike said, setting the towel down and taking a sip of the coffee. He promptly spit it back into the cup, "Where's the sugar?"

"You're ridiculous. You are a grown man, either find your own sugar or learn to drink bitter things," Giles said, turning to take the jar of white sugar out and handing it to his son. "And I have never had favourites."

"Mm-hmm," Spike said, noncommittally, pouring sugar into his coffee, "speakin' of, where's the patient?"

"I drove him over to see Jenny earlier this morning. I called her last night to tell her about his outburst and she was interested as to the cause, they've been getting worse, after all."

"I could tell you the cause," Spike muttered, but Giles didn't catch it. "She'll be wantin' to talk to you after?"

"Yes, you're more than welcome to join us," Giles said, "for dinner as well, if you don't mind letting the hotel room go to waste."

"That was a mallet to the head, not a hint. And 'm eatin' with Buffy, she um…"

"I saw, how long has that been going on? And may I be the first to say it took you long enough."

"T's not goin' on. Leastways not yet, an' prob'ly not ever, knowin' my luck," in a drunken fit a year earlier (an illegal drunken fit as Giles liked to point out) Spike had confessed his feelings for Buffy to his father, and well he didn't bring it up often, Giles tried to understand when he did.

"I don't think Buffy's the type of girl to-"

"Kiss 's jus' tha'," Spike said, sighing heavily. "Bu' I said we'd talk abou' it."

"And what is it exactly that you plan on saying?" Giles asked, settling in. Trying, outwardly, to look put-upon, while inwardly jumping up and down for the joy of getting to parent his wayward son once more.

"Dunno, really, depen's on wha' she's sayin', doesn' it?" Spike asked, "I mean, 'f she's sayin' 'let's shag' that's a very different speech than 'f she's sayin' 'you're beneath me', innit?"

"I highly doubt Buffy's going to tell you you're beneath her and the other I don't even want to think of," Giles said. "You're both children, and will remain that way until you're at least seventy, possibly older. And, as I have told you more times than I am physically capable of counting, plans are important little things."

"Operative word: li'l," Spike said.

"Operative word: important," Giles said, "you can't just barge in and plan to go along with whatever she says. For one thing you'll go mad, going along with whatever crazy notions she gets for the rest of your life."

"Are you tellin' me 'm whipped?" Spike said, "this from the man who confessed to having left the house at three in the mornin' to get calamari for his girl?"

"I blame that mostly on you," Giles said, "and if whipped means what I think it does, I am calling you whipped. Thoroughly so, in fact."

"Mum's hormones were no' my fault. Yours 'f anythin'. An' there's an unholy image," Spike screwed his eyes up and shook his head, then sipped his coffee again. Giles eyed the green novelty mug and glumly poured himself another, conscious of his son's smirk. Why he thought the ultimate undermining of authority was taking the authority's caffeine supply, Giles would never know. "An' she migh' yet say both."

"Dear Lord, you are a paranoid little thing, aren't you?"

"'m not little," Spike said, finding nothing better to say, since he knew his father was right.

"Certainly not," Giles said, agreeably. There was nothing he liked more than reducing his brilliant son- not that he'd ever tell him that- to childish banter. "Buffy is a wonderful girl and even if she doesn't feel the same way about you, she'd never tell you that you were beneath her, mostly because you're not. It's that sort of thinking that got you into the mess with Drusilla, anyway."

"Da', when you start datin' a psychiatrist, is this gonna get worse?"

"What's that?"

"Your tendency to overanalyze anythin' I say so I end up with abou' six complexes I haven' got?" Spike said.

"And what psychiatrist?"

"Li'l late on that one. Anyways, t's not like you and Jenny are a secret anymore. Angel was talkin' at me abou' it last night. Does he always feel the need to give out advice on your love life when sedated?"

"Typically."

"That's new."

"There's a lot of things new with Angel," Giles said, tensely. Quite suddenly the pleasant atmosphere was gone, as Spike saw an accusation, and Giles saw an opening to talk to his son.

"Da', you know if you asked, 'd be home in a second. Doesn' matter wha' else's goin' on," Spike said, clearly pained, "an' I know 'm not home 's much 's 'd like t' be but…"

"No, that's not what I was saying at all. I know you try, and I know if it was at all possible you'd be here more. What I meant was that he changes so quickly that-"

"No," Spike said, flatly. "I know wha' you're gonna say, an' the answer is no. What he needs are professionals, not well-intentioned retired librarians." Getting up from the table, he stomped out of the kitchen. "Gimme a call when t's time to go see Jenny. 'll be in my room."

Jenny Calendar, was, as a rule, a very professional woman, but there had always been something different about the Giles family. Maybe it was the fact that she'd met them just before Anne had died, and had been working with them for just over a decade, longer than any of her other patients. Or, it was possible that it was because it was obvious that both William and Rupert genuinely cared about Liam's illness and wanted to take care of him. Or, maybe it was just because Rupert was incredibly sexy- in a fuddy-duddy sort of way.

But, Jenny would never act on her emotions, if not because it was probably unethical to get involved with her most difficult patient's father, but also because she refused to make the first move. And, as William had told he with one of the conspiring winks he had been giving her for years, Rupert was scared of most women.

"Mum," he'd told her, "was one 'f a kind, an' Da's lookin' to find her again. 'F your interested, you've gotta get him t' see you, an' that'll take doin'," then he'd smiled and left. The advice had been totally unasked for and she'd at first been embarrassed that she was that obvious. A week later Buffy Summers had come up to her when she was running Angel to a session and back, and made a quick apology for Spike.

"Spike wants to help," she'd said, with the look of a mother who's three-year-old had just spilled grape juice on a stranger's white blouse, "really. He just doesn't know about privacy," then she'd assumed the look of the scheming girl she really was, "and he also thinks it's embarrassing that his dad can't get a date."

Since then, Jenny had taken to subtly flirting with Rupert Giles, just to see what was happening. Apparently, what was happening was a great deal of flustered glasses-cleaning and an occasional knowing look from her smirking patient.

So, despite her concern for Liam's worsening condition and his father's stubborn refusal to change anything, she had been looking forward to the family session they were having that afternoon, that, of course, had been before she'd gotten in the middle of World War Three.

"Da', we only talked abou' this yesterday, don' tell me your tha' senile jus' yet," Spike was raging, "'f Jenny says t's what he needs, t's what he should get. 'M I right?"

"It was a recommendation, wasn't it, Dr. Calendar?" Giles said her name pointedly, but she wasn't sure whether it was aimed towards her or his son.

"Yes, but I also said that it would be highly unadvisable to keep him in an unsupervised environment, especially with incidents such as last night occurring so much more frequently now. And you've been calling me Jenny for years, Rupert," she said and was immediately treated to a glare from both men and a disinterested look from Liam, who she noticed hadn't yet been asked his opinion. Though, knowing these two as well as she did, she had assumed it would be the last thing they'd think to do. "Also, don't you think someone should ask Angel?"

"Yes," both men said in unison, and spun to look at the brunette who had been lounging on the couch and looking blankly on at the conversation for the past half-hour.

"Well?" Giles said, crisply, his son didn't respond.

"Liam, 't's your chance to talk," Spike said, "a' leas' tell us 'f you don' wanna talk, so I can get back to talkin' some sense to him."

"I want to," Angel said, looking off past all of them."

"Good then, get on with it," Giles said, earning himself a disapproving look from Jenny.

"I've been hurting people."

"Yes," Jenny agreed, encouragingly.

"People I care about. And I'm a burden," Angel said.

"No, never I'd-"

"You're a pain in the arse but-" Spike and Giles burst out at the same time, quietening when Angel focused on them for a moment.

"I know Dad wants to keep me and I don't think he should be alone. But I can't hurt people any more. The guilt's getting to me, and I know, no matter what you say, it's my fault."

"It's not, Angel, and we've talked about this," Jenny said calmly, "but, yes, you have been hurting people. Are you saying that you would like to go somewhere where you could be cared for?"

"If it's what's best for me. For everyone."

"That's good, Angel, I'm pleased that you see that," Jenny then rounded on the two other men, who had been silent for the entire conversation, slightly slack-jawed. "See, that wasn't hard at all, was it? I'll book you some tours of places in the area next week and get in touch. William, it's been nice to see you. Rupert, Angel, we still have an appointment for Wednesday."

"Yes, yes we do," Giles said, taking off his glasses and beginning to clean them before Spike, annoyed, snatched them away.

"An' the meds?"

"I've sent a prescription to the pharmacy in the building, you can pick them up on your way out. Oh, and Rupert, William? Listen to Liam, won't you? It is his life," Jenny smiled at both men, before they turned to go.

"Yeah?"

"Tell Buffy that you won't be embarrassed much longer," then smiling at the puzzled looks on all three faces, she turned to leave the office herself.

"Spike?" Dawn asked, looking at the mint-chocolate chip ice-cream he'd forced her to buy sceptically, while the Englishman gave an identical look at his turtle parfait.

"Mm?"

"Did Riley hit my sister?" Dawn had always loved Spike because he'd treated her like an equal from the start, and anything she wouldn't or couldn't talk to her sister about, she'd taken to him. She had had a crush on him when they were younger, but that was long gone now. When his only response was too nod, she pressed on. "So they broke up, right?"

"Obviously, Bit," the two were sitting on the hood of Spike's car eating ice cream and talking. Spike had picked her up from school half an hour before, and since then the fiery mood he'd been in had dissipated entirely. Spike had always found Dawn adorably innocent and had loved talking to her, even when she was fighting with her sister. And though neither of them would ever suspect it, he had engineered most of their reconciliations by giving advice on both sides. "I wouldn' let her stay with a guy after he did tha'. An' Buffy's a smart li'l thing, she knows better."

"And then she kissed you ?"

"Was there anyone who didn' see tha'?" Spike asked, exasperated.

"Nope," Dawn replied, then she grinned, "I asked her about it."

"Oh?"

"She said you were a way better kisser than Riley."

"Yeah bloody right. Sweetling, you're a worse liar than Harris," Spike paused, "an' a more obvious matchmaker than his bird."

"She's not his bird, Spike. You can't own a person-" Spike grinned, mission achieved. Bit wasn't going to be raising his hopes any more, and he hardly needed half an ear on the lecture, he'd gotten it a thousand times before. He could quite happily go back to figuring out what the fuck he was going to do about her sister.

Buffy couldn't remember every having been nervous about seeing Spike before. And yet… She had been staring into the closet since four-thirty, trying on everything she owned before settled on a black t-shirt over a white skirt that came down below her knees, she wore her hair up, and had done her makeup very carefully, two times. Mostly, she knew in the back of her mind, for something to pass the time. That had been half-an-hour ago, and now Spike was late, as she had known he would be. He and Dawn would get to talking about whatever it was they talked about, and he'd show up, not that apologetic and in a fabulous mood from an afternoon alone with 'the bite-sized one'. She'd never really minded, Dawn had always been shy, and she knew her sister didn't have many close friend her own age and would never talk to her, so Spike was something.

All of this taken into account, she shouldn't have been nervously pacing up and down the length of her room wondering if he'd stood her up. It also did nothing to explain why, when he did show up, she hugged him. Or why, fifteen minutes later, they were still in her room, collapsed across her bed, he was on top of her, one leg cushioned between hers, fingers tangled in her hair. Neither of them had said anything in what felt like hours, occasional gasps, but that was all.

And she'd promised herself she wouldn't do this. Wouldn't fall on him before they knew what they wanted, before they'd talked about it but… God, this had to be heaven. It was better than last night, one of his hands was tangled in her hair while the other had found that it fit perfectly on the curve of her hip. One of hers was playing with the soft, unruly curls at the back of his neck while the other rested on his back. His lips were soft, but strong and the kiss wasn't from him or from her, it was shared. She didn't even remember who'd made the first move, though there was a niggling feeling at the back of her mind that it had been her. It didn't matter as long as he was kissing her.

Spike was lost, completely lost in this woman. Something was telling him that he had to pull away, but he was ignoring it, because it was the only sensible thing to do. It had never been like this with anyone else. One kiss from her was a blow job from Dru or everything he'd ever had from any other woman. One whisper of his name as his lips found a spot behind her ear to worship pulled him just that much closer to her.

And it was so chaste, it was just snogging and it wasn't leading anywhere. This was what it was. A kiss, desire, passion something other that he was too superstitious to call love. And there was that voice again, telling him to pull back, wait until he'd gotten all of this sorted out. What 'all of this' was exactly, had escaped him like his name, where he was and everything but the blonde in his arms.

"Love?" He mumbled at her neck, where he'd found himself. It was the first word he'd been able to manage since her lips had met his after he'd come in the door.

"Yeah?" Her voice was dreamy, and throatier than he had ever heard it before.

"What're we doin'?" This was the mad part of his brain speaking, and he knew it was the sane part that held her tight to him when she tried to move away.

"I…I don't know," she admitted, finally. "Trying?" She offered, when he raised his head just enough to look her in the eyes.

"Tryin' what, sweetheart?"

"Something else," she responded, "do you not want too…"

"I want too. Do you?" He asked her, azure eyes looking earnestly up at her.

"Why?"

"Why what, darlin'?" He asked, trying not to let his hurt show in his eyes as he replied, he hid his head in his neck. But he knew that she knew when a hand ran itself through his hair. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture that made his breathe catch in his throat, and made her wonder for the first time since she'd seen him what she was doing.

"Why do you want this? Have you always wanted this?"

"You wan' me t' lie t' you, pet?"

"Never," she replied, the same answer she'd given all the thousands of times he'd asked her the same question, starting with the day of his mother's funeral when she'd asked it he would be alright.

"I want this because t's what I want because t's what 've wanted 's long 's I can remember. I want this because you're my best friend an' the only person I know who can make me want to feed her t' the lions an' hold her 'till the end of the world in the same sentence. I want this because you're beautiful and wise an' because when I need it you have always saved me. I want this because t's what I dream about it every night an' I know I can' have it. I want this for a thousand reasons I can't even begin to fathom. I want this because I know t's wha's righ'. I want this because I want you. I want this because you're the most wonderful woman in the world. Bu' most of all, I want this because, 'f I want to be honest with you, 've loved you since Dru," the words came out in a rapid torrent that took them both by surprise, but when he'd started, he hadn't been able to stop. He'd meant it all, discovering most of it for the first time along with her. A beat of silence passed before his brain fully realized what his mouth had just done, "an' I want it 'cause now that 've scared you off, I can' have it."

"Scared me off?" She said, quietly, uncertainly.

"T's prolly not every day that blokes confess their undyin' love after a couple of bloody amazin' kisses," he said, smiling slightly.

"I'm not scared," she said, then paused. "Well, not of that. That was… that was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

"What are you scared of then?" His voice was soft and comforting. She knew she should have lied, made a joke out of it, but the truth was the first thing she thought of, and it was what she said.

"Losing you."

"Wha' d' you want me t' say?" Spike asked, honestly not knowing.

"That I won't, but that I don't have to love you the way you love me just yet," she said, softly.

"You will always have me, Buffy," he pulled away from her with considerable willpower so he could look her in the eyes, "even 'f you decided you can' love me or tha' you don' wanna, you will always have me as a friend. 'F you decide that you wan' to try lovin' this poor fool out, then 'm not gonna tell you no an' you'll never be able t' get rid 'f me. Alright?"

"How do you do that?" She asked, quietly.

"What's that?"

"Say what you mean and mean it and make me feel like it's the truth."

"'Cause it is, baby," he replied, then placed a kiss on her forehead, "you never answered my question. Do you want this?"

"Can I not know?"

"Will you ever?"

"Yes."

"I won' wait forever."

"I wouldn't make you."

"Then, yeah, darlin'. Jus' tell me someday, alrigh'?"

"Soon," she said, and it was a promise.

"Tha's all I need to know," he said, then, impulsively, pressed a hard kiss to her lips before pulling her off the bed. "I like you like this, all mussed an' pleased. You're cute."

"Cute?" She asked, wondering for the millionth time how he could switch emotions on the turn of a dime- it had always driven her insane.

"Cute," Spike confirmed, "so, 'f we go out for dinner now, 's it gonna be our firs' date, or 's it jus' gonna be dinner?"

"Who pays if it's our first date?"

"Me."

"If it's dinner?"

"Both of us."

"Then this is most definitely our first date," Buffy said, and smiling, led him out of her room.

Willow had read the note four times before it sunk in.

-Red

Don't worry, Buffy's staying with me tonight. She wants me to tell you that she will, and she'll let you know about the can. No bloody clue what she's going on about, and I expect to know soon. She's going to stay with me until Anya's wedding thing tomorrow. For reasons I'm not thinking about, she says this is a Christmas gift for Oz. I've told her it's very obvious that my Red is still as pure as the snow, please don't ruin my delusions.

Love,

Spike

Then, in Buffy's smaller handwriting; Thank you, tomorrow you'll find out whether or not I can.

"Oz!" Willow said, excited, "they did it!"

"Who did what?" He said, looking up from the Cosmopolitan he'd picked up when Willow had found the note.

"Spike and Buffy did something. And she's staying with him, but I don't know what they did. Maybe not… or do you think they…" Oz smiled as his girlfriend rambled on.

"Harris?"

"Don't tell me you're cancelling. This is the only way for me to get out of the parade-of-identical-tablecloths that never ends," Xander groaned into the phone.

"'ve got a gorgeous girl in my bed," Spike said, and Xander heard suspiciously familiar giggling in the background, "you can' expect me to give tha' up to play pool with you?"

"I have a gorgeous girl, and, OK, she's more talking about different shades of cream than being in my bed but I was going to give that up to play pool with you."

"You'd give wedding plannin' up for castration, Harris," Spike said, "and 've really got to go. 'll see you in the mornin'."

"Stupid rock star," Xander muttered before slamming the phone down and returning to his bride, who was now debating cream and 'speckled seashell'.

Buffy and Spike had agreed when she'd decided to spend the night that they wouldn't do anything more than kiss just yet. Not, they'd both been all too eager to clarify, that they didn't want too. Just that when they did, it was going to be a big thing for some reason neither of them could quite specify and they both wanted it to be about something that wasn't just lust and new-found something. But Buffy had decided when they'd stopped to get her clothes that the fact that they weren't getting wriggly didn't mean it couldn't be romantic. She knew her William and she knew that he would want nothing less than romance, and for reasons she was suddenly beginning to admit, she didn't want to disappoint him.

So, she'd taken one of her favourite CDs when he'd been busy writing the note to Willow, and then put it in while she'd been changing into the flannel pyjamas she'd brought and Spike had been cancelling late-night pool with Xander. And now he'd come into the bedroom to see her, cross-legged on the bed as the first chords came out of the stereo.

Clock watching and lounge listening

Waiting for my colours to shine

Swimming pools of broken fools

Whose love is deeper whose is true?

I will contend my love for you

Eventually

"Hearts and flowers, Princess?" He asked, teasingly.

"I like that one," Buffy replied, "and, yeah. You like?"

"I love, bu' I though' this was supposed to be like every other night we've spent together?"

"With smoochies," she explained cheerfully, "because, you want to know how I feel about you, and the perfect way to figure that out is by lots and lots of kissing."

"So, this is a scientific experiment, then, love?" Spike asked, eyes shining.

"That and you're really hot without a shirt on."

Serenade my love

Is all I can do

And I know, yes, I know it's wrong to be so

Vigilant and so far gone

It goes on and on and on

Spike grinned as he sat on the bed beside her and pulled her into his lap, this was, most definitely heaven. Had it only been last night that he'd been dancing with her and cursing himself for the stupidity of falling in love with a woman he couldn't have? How quickly things changed.

Talking to myself

I won't be like the rest

No one sees what lives inside me

I can't even taste it myself

Eventually

Buffy knew that there was no question what her answer would be the next morning going on kissing alone. And she'd decided that was when she'd tell him. It wasn't that she wanted tease him, it was just that this had all happened in twenty-four too-short hours and she wanted to be sure she knew her own heart before she told him. If she was doing this, she was doing it right.

It had only been a day since she was with Riley, though it seemed like a lifetime, and she wanted to do it right this time.

Serenade my love

Is all I can do

And I know, yes, I know it's wrong to be so

Vigilant and so far gone

It goes on and on and on

My love is as fierce as the seas

That swells and swallows the space between

Him

And me

Eventually

Serenade my love

Is all I can do

And I know, yes, I know it's wrong to be so

Vigilant and so far gone

It goes on and on and on

We started out kissing, and it was the first time I'd done that in a long while. Have you ever really thought about a kiss? It shouldn't mean anything to us, it doesn't do anything all that special, when you think about it.

And, please don't give me any of that crap about simulation sex. That just isn't true.

Or that it's different with someone you love, because it is. But then, everything is. Going to the grocery store is about a zillion times more interesting when you're with someone you love.

So, for tonight's homework, kiddies, think about kissing.