He's asleep in his chair when she gets there. He gets to his feet resignedly as the door flies open and she makes her entrance.
He sighs. "Should have known it's you. Been nearly six hours."
"Well, it would've been less if I wasn't busy cleaning up your mess. Mud everywhere."
"My mess? You're the one that pissed off the demon. The mess is yours, Slayer."
She gives a disbelieving shake of the head. "I'm done." Suddenly the stake is in her hand and she's crossing the crypt toward him. He's watching her with something like surprise. "Spike, you're a killer. And I shoulda done this years ago."
She's in front of him now, and he looks her in the eye for a long moment. "You know what?" his voice is tight, the muscles in his jaw line tense with emotion. "Do it. Bloody just do it."
" What?" She's thrown, confused.
"End ... my ... torment." His voice is hard. "Seeing you, every day, everywhere I go, every time I turn around. Take me... out of a world... that has you in it!" He tears off his shirt and throws it aside. "Just kill me!"
She stares at him, frozen by the look in his eye, and then, with what feels like a monumental effort of will, she raises the stake and lunges. He winces, but he doesn't move and suddenly this all seems wrong and denying how she feels is wrong. She stops at the last minute, and then they're kissing – deep passionate kisses that take her breath away.
She pulls back with a cry of dismay, brings her hand to her mouth. They stare at each other, both panting for breath. He has that look again, like the night of the storm – the soft lips parted in surprise, the stunned blue eyes. Slowly she drops her hand from her mouth and walks back to him, puts both her hands to the back of his head and pulls his mouth down to hers. The kiss is all-consuming, the feel of his smooth cool skin intoxicating, a fix to an addiction. He kisses her cheek, the side of her neck. "Buffy ..." His voice is heavy with passion, muffled against her hair.
"Spike, I want you." His mouth on her is robbing her of rational thought. She's lost in the moment. He pulls back, meets her eye. She gasps, "God, I love you so much…"
She woke from the dream with a shock and a small cry of despair, and sat bolt upright in the bed. Beside her, Riley stirred restlessly. "Oh, God, no." She stared sightlessly into the darkness, heart racing. "Please, no."
With a whimper, she huddled back under the covers and squeezed her eyes closed. It was a dream. A stupid, stupid dream. Dreams don't mean a darn thing. Besides it was probably just a leftover from the… thing… that happened the night before. An echo of the weather spell. That was all. Not real. She sighed.
But there would be no late night visits to the cemetery for her tonight.
xxxxxx
Buffy rested her head against the cool glass of the window and stared out into the wet, dismal street. The heavy, persistent drizzle robbed everything of colour and blurred the edges of the lettering on the store signs across the street. The few people passing by looked as damp and dispirited as the day, huddled under the weight of the gloomy sky. Someone really needed to remind whoever was in charge that this was California, and summer, and they really should be making with the bright, shiny sunshine rather than the dull, depressing drizzle.
Her breath had misted the window and she looked at what she had been idly doodling with her finger in the condensation – a heart and two entwined initials, B and… She gave a squeak and quickly wiped the evidence. Stupid dream.
She turned away from the window with a sigh and wandered slowly back across the magic shop to where Willow, Giles and Xander were quietly researching.
"Still raining?" Willow looked up from her book with a smile.
"Doesn't look like we'll be needing bikinis and SPF 10 any time soon."
"Hey! Don't let the weather stop the bikinis! It's warm enough in here." Xander piped up hopefully.
Willow shook her head sadly. "Global warming. And they said it wasn't happening. Bad politicians."
"I think maybe given the timescale that this particular weather anomaly is more supernatural than man-made." Giles frowned in thought.
Buffy sat down at the table with a heavy sigh. "Tarxu demon," she said absentmindedly.
"Tarxu demon?" Willow looked over at her with a puzzled frown. "Where did you find that?"
"Oh! I… it must have been…" Buffy cast around desperately for an explanation that didn't involve her having to mention Saturday night. "A book. Yes. That was it. Definitely a book."
"Which one?"
"Ah…" Buffy grinned sheepishly "The big one?"
Giles looked at the pile of weighty tomes on the table. "You couldn't be a little more specific?"
"Big and… dusty?" Buffy offered. "And with pages."
"Which narrows our search considerably." Giles sighed. "Do you at least remember what it said?"
"Small, brown, six evil, tentacley arm-type thingies, tendency to kick you in the ankle when you aren't looking. And does things with weather you wouldn't believe," she summed up. "Big on storms."
"And that's it? That's all it said?" Willow raised an eyebrow.
"Well, that's all I remember. What?" Buffy frowned as Giles and Willow exchanged a look. "It was late! I'd spent the whole day looking at books! Things kinda merge."
"OK. Did it mention the small furry animals?"
"You know, I'm not convinced it's big enough to take on the average dog, given what I saw… read!" she corrected herself quickly.
"So maybe it's not our phantom petnapper."
"No, but maybe the weather thing…" Willow frowned in thought.
"OK – so, maybe time to call in the local knowledge." Xander turned to Buffy. "Feel like going and beating up Spike?"
"What? Spike? No! I mean… why?" Buffy flushed.
"Well, you know – short, blond and evil always seems to have the low down on the badness in town. Might be worth pumping him..." Xander shrugged.
"No! There'll be no pumping…!" Buffy flushed furiously. "I mean, he won't know anything. And… and besides… he's been too busy with Harmony…" Buffy frowned and convinced herself that, despite what it felt like, that sharp little tug in her guts wasn't jealousy.
"Harmony? Spike back with Harmony? Jeez, he must be desperate!"
"Yeah, well, she's welcome to him." Buffy tried not to pout. "They make quite a couple. Still, at least they can buy the peroxide in bulk. Must save them a fortune."
"Harmony's not a natural blonde?" Willow looked over at Buffy in surprise.
"No way!" Buffy folded her arms. "Bottle blonde. Not convinced she hasn't had a boob job, too."
"You know is it just me or are we coming up against some pretty lame demons right now? Something that steals pooches and something that makes the weather a bit unpleasant? Hardly apocalypse material." Xander shrugged.
"And you're complaining, why, exactly?" Buffy raised an eyebrow.
"Point taken. Actually, the Case of the Disappearing Doggies is causing me some problems. Tell Anya there's an apocalypse looming and she's only concerned it might reduce her pool of customers. Tell her something's doing away with a few pooches and it's all 'Well what are you all waiting for? Get out there and settle it!'."
Buffy smiled. "Where is Anya? Is she still down in the basement?"
"Stocktaking, yeah. She's taking this job very seriously. But you wait until we get a customer…"
The door of the Magic Shop opened with a tinkle of the bell. Within seconds Anya was at the startled-looking customer's side. "Welcome to my shop! Come in. Spend your money." She paused, frowning as if trying to remember something. "Oh, yes! Anything you require please feel free to ask," she said carefully. The woman smiled nervously and picked up a bottle from the table. "But don't touch!" Anya snapped.
Xander grinned. "See what I mean?"
xxxxxx
As darkness fell, Buffy was curled up on the sofa next to Riley, determined to enjoy an evening of TV and popcorn. "So – are you going patrolling?" Riley was idly flicking through the channels, looking for something that wasn't Reality TV and struggling to find anything.
"I dunno…" Buffy suddenly seemed very interested in the bucket of popcorn.
"You didn't go last night."
"No. I just felt like a night in snuggling with my cute and sexy boyfriend." She cuddled up to Riley with a smile.
"Sounds good to me." He kissed the top of her head. "But… two nights off? It's not like you. That cemetery's going to be crawling with vampires ready for the staking."
"The cemetery, yeah." Buffy was sort of hoping she'd get away with her avoidance tactics a bit longer. "Aww… Do I have to?" She tried a pout.
"Well, no, you don't have to. But you usually want to. What's the problem?"
"No problem! Why should there be a problem? Why does everyone assume there's a problem? Is it so odd that I might want a night away from the evil undead thing… things…?"
"Hey!" Riley held up his hands. "Just saying!"
"Sorry. Yeah. You're right. I should patrol." An idea struck her. "Wanna come with?"
Riley gave her a disbelieving look. "You're asking me to patrol with you?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"Well, I always kind of get the impression I'm in the way."
"No! You're never in the way. It's always good to have another pair of stake-wielding hands along, especially when they're attached to such good arms." She stroked his biceps. "Those are good arms to have."
"Thank you for the arm admiration."
"You're welcome." Buffy got to her feet and held out a hand. "C'mon. Let's go kill something."
Riley heaved himself to his feet. "Maybe we'll run into Spike…"
"Oh! Then we could kill him!" Buffy said brightly.
"Good as that sounds I was thinking more about trying to get some information out of him. Word on the street about the petnapping and the weather disturbances."
"Humph. Like he'd tell anyway." Buffy shrugged into a jacket and picked up a stake. "He has to be the most annoying, irritating, smug, pointless…"
"But still he's here." Riley frowned. "You know, never figured out why you didn't stake him years ago." He held the door open for her.
"Because…" Buffy began as they walked off down the street. She paused. Because, why, exactly? Not like she hadn't had the opportunity, or the provocation. So – why not? Filing that one under 'not to be analysed in too great a depth' Buffy shrugged. "Me neither. And now he has the chip and all, it feels… wrong."
"Spike may be chipped, but don't let it fool you. He's still dangerous."
"He's not fooling me." Buffy frowned. "I know what he is." She hoped she sounded more sure than she felt.
xxxxxx
"Quiet night." Riley looked around as they strolled hand and hand between the memorials.
"Hmm?" Buffy was feeling somewhat distracted. "Oh! Right. Quiet. Yeah – quiet as the grave."
"Well, that would be appropriate."
"Mmm…" She frowned into the shadows, straining her eyes to pick out elusive shapes.
"No slaying opportunities?"
"Nope." She let out a sigh and twirled the stake in her free hand.
"So – want to tell me why you're so nervy?"
"Me? Nervy? I am so not nervy."
"Buffy," Riley stopped and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. "You're jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room fulla rockers What's up?"
"Oh, I dunno. It's just… I thought…" She paused uncomfortably. "I was…" And there it was, the telltale tingle – and, she had come to realise, the Spike-based telltale tingle was somehow much more with the tingle than with other vampires. She looked up at Riley. "You know… given it's quiet and all… and now we have a little bit of free-time… we could maybe…" she snuggled up against him, smiling seductively, "do a little outdoor romancing."
"I though cemeteries weren't romantic?"
"They are when you're here."
"I guess that's a compliment." He bent with a smile to kiss her.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and ran her hands up the broad expanse of his back. He felt warm and solid, well-rounded and smooth edged, comfortable and easy against her, so completely unlike… she forced her obstinate brain resolutely away from that particular direction of thought, brought it determinedly back to the man in hand. All kinds of good, Riley and me, and there's passion… see? She deepened the kiss and pressed herself harder against him, running her hand down to caress his butt and pull him closer. And it felt… nice – he felt nice, and his arms around her were cosy and secure and his kiss was tender and there was nothing wrong with nice and the way it made her feel warm and… loved.
Sadly the moment was somewhat ruined by a disgusted snort from the shadows. Thankfully not in the possession of heightened slayer senses and so completely unaware of their audience, Riley pulled back and looked down at Buffy with a surprised smile. "Wow."
Buffy looked up at him under lowered lashes. "There's no action here. We could go home and make our own…"
"Never one to refuse a lady." Riley put an arm around her shoulder and they headed off across the cemetery. "I should come slaying more often."
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. There. Point made. No way could he say there was no passion now. And then she did it – despite herself she had to go and look back. He was standing half in the shadows, leaning nonchalantly against a tomb, arms folded. When he caught her eye he raised an eyebrow, and shook his head, that knowing smirk firmly in place. She felt an answering surge of heat in the pit of her stomach and looked away quickly, her heart racing. She stared determinedly ahead and bit her lip. Something told her that her little show hadn't fooled either of them.
