"You must be Buffy."

Buffy turned to Mona in surprise. "How'd you know that?"

"Spike talks about a 'Buffy' all the time. And from that little display, I guessed you must be her."

"Well you guessed right." Buffy was silent for a moment before asking, "Spike really talks about me?"

"Like I just said—all the time."

Buffy couldn't help the smile that broke out across her face. "Really? Wow…"

Mona leaned in. "If I were you, I'd claim him before some other girl does," she said before turning her attention back to the stage.

Buffy watched Spike performing, and even now that it wasn't directed at her, the sight of him still made a rush go through her. He was so alive up there, and she realized abruptly that she wanted him. Really really wanted him. He turned her way then, his eyes smoldering, and Buffy decided to hell with the consequences. She knew he could make her break all over again, but trying to fight what was between them was killing her on its own. She might as well give in to it if there was going to be pain either way.

When the band finished their set, Spike jumped down off the stage, coming over to the table where Mona and Buffy were sitting. "We have to break down and load up, and then we can get out of here, all right?" he asked Buffy tentatively, hoping not to scare her off again.

She surprised him, however, by grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to her, crushing his lips against hers. Spike only hesitated for a moment before his brain registered the fact that Buffy really was kissing him and kissed her back. She was grinning slyly at him when he pulled away, and Spike cleared his throat. "I'll just, um, be quick about this then."

"I'll be waiting for you," Buffy said in a tone that sounded suspiciously like a purr to his ears. Spike nodded and jumped back on stage, not wanting to waste any time in case Buffy changed her mind on a whim.

Mona smirked from beside Buffy. "Looks like somebody's going to have a good time tonight."

Buffy's smile grew. "That's what I'm counting on."

Spike was surprised that they made it out of the cab and into the apartment with their clothing still intact. Buffy had been all over him since they'd left the club—a far cry from the woman who would run off every time he'd come near her.

Now that they were behind closed doors, her attentions intensified. She was pulling at his t-shirt so ferociously that Spike wondered if the fabric would tear. When she finally managed to pull it over his head, she broke away from his mouth and moved her kisses to his chest, making Spike groan and thread his fingers through her dark hair.

Some part of his brain that was still miraculously capable of rational thought was screaming at him, telling him that this was just asking for trouble. Buffy had very quickly gone from pushing him away at every advance he made to attacking him as if she were a starving woman and he was the first meal she'd had in weeks. What if she responded to this the same way she did everything else? The problems that would cause would be detrimental to whatever this was between them. Mustering up all of his willpower, he nudged her away from him.

"Buffy…wait. We should…we need to talk about this."

Buffy looked up at him with the sexiest pout Spike had ever seen. "Don't want talk—want you." She leaned into him again, nipping at his ear, and he sucked in a hissing breath.

Spike was going to protest more. He was going to convince her that if they were going to do this, then they needed to do it right. He was going to tell her that she meant too much to him for just a quick screw that could have consequences neither one of them wanted to face.

But then he realized that she'd somehow managed to get his pants open, and her hot little hand was gripping him tightly. That last bit of rational thought he'd been clinging to was gone, and he was hers.

Buffy made a small sound of contentment and nuzzled up against him, and Spike held her close, running his hand through her silky hair. She was staying here with him, and Spike felt relief flood through him as he thought maybe this time she'd let him in to her life.

But then Spike heard Buffy sniffling and realized she was crying. He was hit with a sudden wave of panic, wishing that he'd gone with his first instinct and talked to her beforehand, made sure this was really wanted. It had all seemed so perfect at the time, but she must be regretting it now. He pulled away enough to look at her face, though he feared what he might see there.

"Buffy? What's wrong, luv?" he asked softly, praying that she wouldn't run off.

She took a deep breath before answering, and the sight of her watery eyes made Spike's heart clench. "I never thought I'd have this again," she said.

"Have what?"

"This. This thing that we just shared. It was so beautiful, and I feel so cherished right now, and I…I never thought I could…again…after…after…" Buffy's soft tears broke into full sobs, and Spike gathered her back into his arms, murmuring soft words of comfort.

Eventually, Buffy moved away from him slightly, slipping one arm from around him to wipe at her eyes. She saw the concern clearly written on Spike's face, and Buffy knew then that she had to tell him the truth about her past. He deserved to know what he was signing up for getting with her, needed to know why she was the way she was.

"His name was Angel."

Spike tensed, wondering what Buffy could be talking about before he remembered the hints of her past that he'd caught in their time together. Her dead lover… "Tell me about him?" he coaxed softly, knowing she needed to get this out.

Buffy closed her eyes, willing her nerves to calm down. She could do this… She opened them again and knew immediately she couldn't get this out with Spike looking at her so intently. It made her heart ache too much. She sat up, keeping the sheet around her as best she could as she pulled her knees to her chest.

Her back was to him now, but Spike didn't push her to move. If this is how she needed to do this, then he would let her. Buffy was too easily scared off he knew, and he didn't want her to run now that he finally had had her in his arms. He propped himself up on his hand, lying on his side and waiting patiently for her to speak. After a long pause, she did.

"I met him when I was sixteen. My friend Cordelia talked me into going to this college party, and he was there. He was twenty, and he had no idea that I was still in high school. We ended up cutting out of the party and going outside, sitting on the hood of his car and talking all night. He made me feel smart, and mature, and like someone really special. I'd never…I'd never felt that way with anyone. I knew at the time that I should tell him my age, but I couldn't do it. I figured I'd lose him that way, and I didn't want to. So I let him think I was a sophomore at some other college—not in high school.

"But then I actually fell in love with him. He was everything to me, and I couldn't keep lying to him. I…I told him the truth. He was shocked, and he said that we shouldn't see each other anymore. That I was too young, and he was pre-law, and that being with me could jeopardize his whole future career. But that lasted all of a week. We knew it was wrong, but we couldn't stay away. I was convinced that I couldn't live without him. We kept seeing each other, and in my mind nothing bad could happen, because we were in love. It was going to be forever, and I knew that in a few years the whole age thing wouldn't matter. I mean, what's four years in the grand scheme of things, right? I could see our whole future, from the small apartment we'd live in while he was in law school to the house we'd have with the kids and the dog.

"But then my mom found out. Apparently four years was a lot to her. She told him if he came near me again, she'd have him arrested. I was seventeen by this point, and I begged her to let it go. I was almost old enough, why couldn't she just let me be happy? She did everything she could to keep us apart, and Angel said that we should just wait the year. We had our whole lives ahead of us, after all…

"I tried to wait, but I ached for him. We saw each other when we could, but it was rough. My mother was watching me like a hawk, and when I finally did turn eighteen, I wanted to just leave home, be out on my own. But Angel convinced me to stay, told me that I needed to stick it out through high school. At least she couldn't threaten to have him arrested anymore. But that didn't stop her. She said he'd only be a distraction in my life, that I had too much going on to get so serious with a man. So we made plans. He was graduating from college about a month before I finished high school, and he was going to go to LA—where he was going to be for law school—and set everything up for us. He got an apartment, and right after graduation, I was going to take the bus down there and we…we were going to be together."

Buffy was silent for a long while after that, and Spike took a deep breath, deciding to prod her gently again. "What happened, pet?" he asked, keeping his tone steady and even.

"My mother," Buffy replied, her tone harsh enough to make Spike wince. "She found out I was leaving, and told me I couldn't go. We…we had this huge fight, and…and it made me miss the bus. I had to wait around for another one, and it was night before I got to LA."

Buffy stopped again, and Spike could hear her fighting tears. She took a deep breath and pushed herself to continue. "But Angel was there waiting for me. I was so happy in that moment. I can still remember seeing him there and thinking that all the badness was behind us. But…but there were these men in…in the parking lot. And they attacked us. It happened so fast, I can't…I can't remember it all, but they came after me, and Angel he…he wanted to protect me. And then there was a shot, and they were gone, and…" She sobbed loudly for a moment, her whole body shaking before she said in a rush, "He died in my arms, and it was all my fault. He was there because of me, and…" It became too much, and she buried her face in her hands.

Spike was up immediately, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. She welcomed his embrace, letting him soothe her while she cried. "Not your fault, kitten. Oh, Buffy, not your fault." He felt his own eyes tearing up, his heart breaking for the woman in his arms.

"It is. It is my fault," she replied. "If he hadn't loved me, he never would've died. I…I killed him."

Spike's arms tightened around her. "No, baby. Don't think that about yourself."

She pulled away slightly, her face a picture of anguish. "It just hurts so much, Spike. It hurts all the time, and I can't make it stop, and I…" she crumbled again, and Spike moved them so they were lying down again, cradling her in his arms as she cried.

Eventually, her tears quieted down, and Spike realized she'd fallen asleep in his arms. "I'll make the hurting stop, Buffy," he promised softly before letting himself follow her into slumber.

I know you have to have something to say about that chapter, so please review. I'm not a mind-reading author, so there's no way for me to know what you're thinking about a story or if you want to keep reading it unless you tell me.

Also, as you probably know if you read a lot of my stories here, I edit them for this site. This is one of those edited chapters. The full version can be found elsewhere for those of you over the age of 18.