"So did you have a chance to talk to him?"

"Him, who? What 'him' are we talking about?" Buffy squeaked, her attention snapping to her best friend.

"The big hunky Riley, him," Willow said with a grin. "You never told me if you were able to smooth things over after the spell-kerflooey fake engagement shenanigans. Will I still be getting my vicarious smoochies?"

"Oh that him…" Buffy frowned. "No, not really. I mean I did try to talk to him but— it didn't go so great,"

"Did he pull a Roadrunner and escape?"

"More like he just crossed to the other side of the street when he saw me. Very clear message, very much received and I'm so not interested in playing the part of Wiley Coyote here," Buffy answered honestly.

Willow gave a resigned sigh. "No vicarious smoochies?"

Buffy snorted a laugh. "Nice priorities, Will."

"Oh, I didn't— I mean—"

Buffy waved off her sputtering. "Don't worry about it, I think maybe I've had enough smoochies for now."

Willow whined, giving her a look to rival any puppy waiting to be scolded for peeing on the carpet. "Oh, hum yeah, I guess you have a point," she murmured.

"Yeah, Spike—"

"Maybe a little too vicarious," Willow answered, but Buffy wasn't listening anymore.

"No kidding," Buffy muttered, her mind already beginning to wander as they continued walking.

Her thoughts traipsing dangerously around the edge of a rabbit hole containing all things 'Spike'. The feel of his hands around her waist, his lips on hers, his fingers in her hair, the way he seemed to melt into her even as he drew her in with greedy hands. His unnecessary breaths tickling her skin in direct response to the words of loving devotion that had spilled from her lips as they planned their wedding.

The image of Spike sitting in that chair cradling the guitar in his lap with his arms on display, muscles made of whipcord, and doing nothing more sinister than playing music. She felt herself slipping into the rabbit hole despite herself as she remembered the incomprehensible look on Spike's face as he sang. The song itself ran through her mind, his voice clear and pleasant. It had sent a shock straight through her body setting off an explosion of hormones that had her suddenly envious of that damn guitar.

The memories culminated with the scene they had just left, threatening to pull her in.

After the initial shock had worn off, the Scoobies managed to compartmentalize enough to discuss the current Sunnydale weekly weirdness. Spike of course lost interest quickly, opting to continue his guitar playing while lounging. She'd given him one of her deadliest glares, silently telling him to shut up or else.

Spike merely smirked and began singing again.

"I'll never be your beast of burden

My back is broad but it's a-hurting

All I want for you to make love to me…"

The look on Spike's face as he sang played in her mind, making her cheeks flame uncontrollably.

Stupid spell… That's gotta be it, there's no way I'm actually— Nope not even gonna entertain that thought. Spike is an evil, murdering, conniving, opportunistic— But the song kept playing in her head.

"I'll never be your beast of burden

I've walked for miles, my feet are hurting

All I want for you to make love to me…"

An image of Spike's fingers applying firm but gentle pressure to the strings of the guitar consumed her mind and she groaned.

"Are you alright?"

"Huh?" Buffy asked looking back up, realizing only then that they had reached their building.

A look of concern dominated Willow's features. "You're all contemplative-y."

"Oh, eh, yeah. I guess I'm still sorting through the major freak-ness."

"I know, right?" Willow exclaimed. "Like who knew Giles even owned a guitar? And the singing? Did you know he could sing? Because I sure didn't," Willow burbled as they climbed the stairs to their floor.

Buffy nodded like a bobblehead but didn't say anything. The fact that Giles played guitar and had a surprisingly good singing voice barely registered in comparison to the shock of finding him having a jam session with Spike.

Spike of all people— ermm vampires—

"Know what we need to take our minds off the freaky British Invasion?" Willow suddenly blurted.

Buffy dimly registered the look of hopeful delight Willow now gave her. "Does it involve ice cream and a movie?"

"See, you totally just read my mind. What am I thinking now?" she asked, opening the door to their dorm room.

Buffy screwed up her face in faux concentration. "Humm, is it pajamas and facials?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!"

Chapter End Notes:

Title and song used comes from The Rolling Stones- Beast of Burden