CHAPTER 6

Restless Nights

Buffy lay awake with wide eyes, staring at the ceiling. The fan was whirring lazily but it did nothing to cool her disquieted body.

The lack of other human prescence in the room weighed down on her ears and nose, as if she was underwater. She gasped for breath and felt crowded in the empty room.

With swift movements she shot out of bed and dressed. She climbed quickly out of her window so she wouldn't wake Dawn, and dropped silently to the ground, stake in hand.

She found Spike sitting on top of a tombstone near his crypt, smoking. He was studying the sky. "Unusually warm weather we're having, don't you think?" he asked without looking at her as she approached him.

"I suppose," she answered. She breathed in the smell of his cigarette. "Come patrolling with me?"

He glanced at her. "I don't want -- I don't feel like being alone," she said. With her wide eyes she told him not to question any further.

He obeyed. "All right then, pet," he said, ducking his head. He stubbed out his cigarette and followed her.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked after some time.

"No," she answered simply.

He smirked a little. "Thinking about me?" he asked. "Lying awake, thinking of the things I do to you --"

She stopped dead in her tracks, but he couldn't be sure if it was because of his words or because of the vampire rising a few feet away. Either way, she took off running. He felt himself hardening as he watched her fight; he couldn't help it. She was so fierce.

She finally staked the vamp and didn't even look back, advancing towards Spike. She slammed him into the side of the nearest crypt. "Don't even think," she said in between sticking her tongue into his ear "that you" she nipped at his earlobe "have ANY such effect" bit his lower lip "on me." She moved down to his neck and teased his skin with her tongue before biting down, making him growl.

"Oh, is that so?" he smirked. He slid his hands into her jeans, seeking out her heat and running his fingers through the silky wetness. "That why you're so wet for me?" he asked mockingly.

She responded by grinding her hips mercilessly against him. "That why you're so hard for me?" she retorted.

He groaned, but then sighed and pushed her away. That wasn't what she'd expected.

"You can't keep doing this, Buffy," he told her.

Shock quickly turned to anger. "I can't keep doing this? What about you, Spike, with your innuendos and come-ons and chest and sexy hands? It takes two to fucking tango, you know."

He cocked his head at her. "You think I'm sexy?" he asked coyly.

She opened her mouth, but whatever she'd meant to say failed.

He gave a wry chuckle. "Look, pet ... hard as it is for me to say this, and bloody weird as it feels, I think we need some time apart."

It wasn't until he was walking away that she found her voice. "Time apart? You're telling me we need time apart?" She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "God, does my life suck ..."

He looked over his shoulder at her, hunching slightly over, hands clutched in her hair. "Hey," he said, "Slayer ... you all right?"

Her body was shaking, and at first he thought she was cyring. Then she raised her head and he realized it was laughter. "Of course, of course I'm all right. Why on earth wouldn't I be? I haven't died twice or anything, I'm not having sex with the evil undead or something crazy like that. No, my life is perfect and normal and happy." He'd walked back to her, close enough to touch. She grabbed his shirt. "Spike, why do I feel like this?"

He wasn't sure what she wanted to hear. "I don't know, luv ..."

"Stop calling me that." She released his shirt and started pacing back and forth.

He stopped her, smirking. "So, uh ... what exactly should I call you then?" he asked. "Sweetheart? Lover?" He reached out and ran a hand through her hair. "Goldilocks?"

She watched his hand our of the corner of her eye. "Buffy," she said finally. "Call me Buffy."

He looked deep into her eyes, and she shivered. "Buffy," he said. "This has to end." This time, when he walked away, she didn't follow.