Beds of Pebbles

Summary: Chucky's dad on 'Rugrats' says that you're always safe in your own bed. However, a certain blonde begs to differ... Set in the middle of disaster that was Season 6. Angsty B/S (what else can it be?)

Disclaimer: 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and all associated with it belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox etc. I own nothing.

A/N: Spontaneous fiction I couldn't stop from bursting out of me when I was watching 'Rugrats' with my nephews. The name in the brackets is just to indicate who I'm dealing with in what chapter. Very short, three chapters, indefinite ending. Still reading it? Then let me know what you think.

3. Kisses to Steal

Buffy's eyes burned with boredom; boredom that stemmed from Anya's extensive wedding planning.

She was sitting on the table at the Magic Box, going through Anya's guest list for the umpteenth time, not actually seeing it. She's been through it once and had okayed all the invitees. But, in between all her pacing, Anya kept adding people and asking Buffy if, somehow, they would muck up the dress symmetry.

Buffy had seen the dresses. Nothing could wreck the dress symmetry because, after all, there was none; the dresses were just huge, shapeless garments of radioactive material. They were, in themselves, a disaster.

Nothing else could wreck Anya's wedding.

Well, demons could try, but hey, why else had Anya called Buffy?

She sighed as Anya wrung her hands, pacing the length of the shop. "Anya," Buffy started, only to stop when Anya suddenly turned towards her.

"Yeesss?" Anya didn't lose her patronizing tone under any circumstances.

Buffy felt, rather than saw, Willow, Xander and Dawn turn their gazes on her. They were wondering, she knew, what she had to say that had disturbed the uninterrupted rhythm of their tasks.

"Anya," Buffy said, "Why don't you sit down for a while?" Anya' eyes widened at the suggestion and the Slayer hurried to add, "Because I think we've done a lot of work already and if you just sit down and take a rest we might be able to work better..." She trailed off when Anya scoffed derisively and shook her head.

"Rest?" She echoed. "Rest?" She shook her head, almost pityingly. But then, Anya was incapable of pity at times, so this was highly improbable. "Buffy, there is no time to rest. There's just three weeks left, and we haven't even decided what flowers we want!"

Buffy looked to Xander incredulously. He shrugged helplessly. Buffy sighed and turned to Anya.

"See, Anya, that's the point," Buffy pointed out mildly, "There's three weeks left."

Willow and Dawn's heads flipped from Anya to Buffy, Buffy to Anya, as though watching a tennis match.

Anya's eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to say something but just then, the bell jingled and all heads flipped towards the door to see who was interrupting.

Xander's mouth twisted into a contemptuous line. "Oh, look who it is," He drawled, "The Vamp with the Metal Chip! Now, just why can't we lock you away, please tell me?"

Spike frowned but ignored Xander. Surprisingly, it was Anya who came to his defence.

"Xander," She scolded, "We don't insult potential customers!"

Xander stared at her. "Ahn," He said, uncomprehendingly, "This is Spike!"

"Who's become a regular customer of my candles," She insisted, walking to behind the counter. "If he buys nothing, or after he buys something, you can say whatever you want."

Spike chuckled in response. "Very smooth, Anyanka. Perhaps I won't buy those candles after all..." He made a move to turn and leave the shop.

"NO!" Anya leaned over the counter and grabbed his coat sleeve. "Spike, I'm s-sorry about Xander's remarks. Don't go!" Then, remembering something, she grinned. "You know you're invited to the wedding, right? We haven't figured out where to seat you, yet, but it's an evening thing, so not many worries. Ooh!" Her eyes widened as an idea hit her and she tightened her hold on his arm. "Buffy doesn't have a date!" Both of them looked at Buffy, who looked back like a deer caught in the headlights. "You can sit where her date would have sat!"

Spike smiled. "I appreciate the sentiment, Anya, really. But the Slayer's too pretty to remain dateless." His eyes met said Slayer's and his smiled became tender. "'m sure some lucky bloke will have scooped her up, by then."

Buffy smiled slightly at this. Only Spike saw it, and the blush it came with.

"Speaking of scooping," Xander's dry voice pulled everyone's attention to him. "We aren't serving pigs, rats or humans, Spike. If you come, you'll have to promise not to eat the guests. Oh, but wait!" Xander snapped his fingers and grinned. "You can't eat the guests, can you?" He shook his head, smiling. "So silly of me to forget..."

Spike stiffened. He, imperceptibly, looked at Buffy for help. She bit her lip.

Again, it was Anya who intervened. "Don't pay any attention to Xander, Spike. You know him and his stupid remarks. They don't matter."

Spike gave Xander a long, hard look. "You're right. He doesn't matter."

Xander made a move to say something more but Buffy put an arm on his shoulder, restraining him. She said something to him, so softly even Spike couldn't pick it up, her eyes downcast. Xander's jaw tightened but he nodded.

"Wait here, Spike. Me and Willow will get the goods." She nodded at Willow, who stood up.

"Willow and I," Dawn corrected from where she revised for a test.

Anya frowned. "No, Dawn, there's no need. You stay here. I'll get the candles with Willow."

Dawn rolled her eyes as Willow gave Spike a tiny smile as she passed him to go down to the basement. Spike nodded in response then, shoving his hands into his coat pockets, turned to the table where the rest sat

Dawn gave him a sullen wave that, he knew, stemmed from her displeasure at his not taking her side during the fiasco on Buffy's birthday. Xander stared at him, his gaze not friendly. Spike ignored him and turned to Buffy, who was staring at him, too. But the second their eyes met, she dropped her gaze, suddenly very interested in the sheet of paper on her lap.

A rush of frustration passed through Spike at her pretence. She wished they could drop the game, already... the distance their secret put between her friends and her affected their relationship day-to-day, too.

He didn't stop staring at her as she bent over whatever work DemonGirl had assigned her. Xander, too, didn't stop looking at him. So he noticed when the vampire didn't stop watching Buffy.

And, of course, he mentioned it.

"So, Spike," Xander's voice made everyone look up. "Are you planning on building another bot of Buffy here or are you just fascinated with her hair colour? Must remind you of your slut, Harmony, eh?"

Spike looked as though he'd been slapped. Dawn's face flared in anger on Spike's behalf while Buffy's eyes widened as she watched, both, Spike and Xander.

"See, Buffy," Xander continued good-naturedly, "I told you to let your hair stay brown. Now you're reminding Spike of his girlfriends!"

Buffy looked at Spike. His hurt eyes, eyes that told her he was silent for her, looked back at her, waiting for her to say something. She swallowed. Said nothing.

It seemed he was done waiting. A look of contempt, for Buffy, not Xander, flickered onto his face. Shaking his head disgustedly, he turned on his heel to leave.

Buffy stood up to stop him but her words died on her tongue as Xander gave her a look. "Sit down," He said out of the corner of his mouth.

Anya and Willow, who were coming up the steps with the candles, tried to stop him. "Spike!" Anya cried out. "We've got them, don't worry, they're all here!"

He just said, bitterly, as he passed them, "Keep them, Anyanka, don' need them anymore."

And the bell jingled after his as he shut the door.

Dawn started yelling at Xander, then, while he chuckled at the vampire's reaction. Anya, cross at having missed a sale, jumped aboard the bandwagon that was angry with Xander and started yelling, too. Only Willow noticed the way Buffy was half standing, face pale as a sheet.

"Buffy?" Willow's soft, worried voice broke through Xander's protestations about his innocence in the whole matter. "Are you alright?"

Immediately, three more pairs of eyes focused on Buffy. Xander frowned. "Why're you still standing? Sit down."

Buffy swallowed and turned to Xander. "Xander," She said, throatily because her throat was so dry, "Get bent."

As Xander's eyes filled with hurt at the gesture, Buffy threw down the list she was holding and started walking, quickly, to the door that Spike had just left through.

But she wasn't quick enough. Because just before she reached the door, Xander grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. "What did you just say, Buffy?" He demanded.

"You heard me," She told him, wrenching her arm out of his grip, "Get bent! Fuck off! Bite me!"

It was Xander's turn to look like he'd been slapped. He took a step back. He was silent for a while, staring at her with horror-filled eyes, before he shuddered and said, accusingly, "You know you're taking Spike's side over mine?"

"Yeah," was Buffy's reply, totally calm, "I think it's high time someone did."

And without waiting for a reply, she turned and left the Magic Box, the jingling bell leaving three women to cheer silently for the slight blonde.

She caught up with Spike easily. He was only halfway down the empty street when she jogged up behind him. "Spike!" She yelled, knowing she was within hearing range. "Spike!"

He didn't slow down or turn around. Rather, his pace quickened, and he took a sharp turn into an alley that made Buffy run faster.

She reached the alley. It was empty. Her heart throbbed in her throat as she scanned for him. She'd given up hope when suddenly, a hand curled around her waist, pulling her back into the lean body that it belonged to.

She smiled as she turned around to face him. "Hey."

Spike's face was half hidden in shadows. "'ello, pet."

Buffy's heart, which had relaxed for a mere minute, resumed thudding a quick pace against her eardrums. She swallowed hard and said, "I-I'm so sorry, Spike, for letting him speak to you like that. I g-guess I just wanted to keep our secret, which is hardly any justification. Heck," She gave a bitter laugh like his, "There is no justification. I'm just trying to m-make things easier on myself, again. I... I'm sorry, S-Spike, really, I—"

"Shh," Spike pressed a long, thin finger to her lips. "It's happened before, luv." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "What makes this time different is that you came after me. At once."

Buffy shivered. But not from the cold, rather from the his gentle nips at the junction of her neck and throat. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

Spike jerked her body up for a bruising kiss, then. Buffy's hands entangled in his hair as she gasped into his mouth. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and push her roughly against the wall, his hand at the hem of her sweater, getting ready to stage an invasion.

When they pulled apart for a breath, Buffy gasped, leaning over him as she caught her breath. Against her earlobe, Spike muttered, "But one thing, though, Slayer." He waited for her to look at him. She didn't disappoint him. "Why?" He whispered.

Smiling, Buffy leaned up to kiss him. It was gentle and chaste and, when they pulled apart, she murmured against his lips, "Nobody gets to insult the man I love."

His unneeded breath hitched. His eyes widened. His mouth, lips swollen with kisses, fell open.

She smiled a sphinx-like smile, enjoying his reaction all the way.

And when she returned to the Magic Box, a good half an hour later, looking shabbier but happier than before, the smile hadn't disappeared.

Everyone looked up as she entered. She didn't go fully in, just stood at the door, half inside, half outside. Xander stood up, immediately, and said, "Buffy, I'm sorry, that was kind of wrong of me to be so rude to Spike."

It took him a lot of courage – not to mention the yelling of three women – to do that. Buffy smiled. "All's forgiven, Xander."

Then she turned to Anya, who instantaneously barked, "Shut the door, you're letting in the cold!"

But Buffy just stood there and said, "You better not have assigned anyone else my date's place." She grinned and pulled Spike into the shop. "I got myself a date."

A/N: I hope you read the note on top that says it's only 3 chapters long. So, this is it. The end. Let me know what you think.