By Barb (Once Bitten Spike)
Giles paused in his reading, snatched off his glasses and listened intently toward the rear of the store. He could have sworn he’d heard something back there, in the training room.
Buffy and Spike had been there earlier working out, which they did on a regular basis every evening before patrol, ever since they had become a couple.
Buffy’s timing and strength had improved overall, and Giles was beginning to see a distinct advantage to having the blonde vampire around the place. Even if it meant that the harassed Watcher had to put up with an abundance of jibes and humor from Spike, which was mostly at his own expense.
He’d been worried at first, of course, that having the vampire around in his unchipped state would sooner or later result in a tragedy, probably the loss of Xander, at the very least, but he’d begun to relax on that score. Spike truly was changing, and the Watcher was keeping careful notes on it in his diaries.
But Buffy and Spike had gone home an hour ago, so no one was back there, that he knew of. No one who had a right to be, that is.
He listened intently, and heard it again. A distinct thumping sound, which reminded him of what he usually heard when someone was dismounting from the vaulting horse. And what sounded like giggling.
He got up, wincing as his chair legs made a scraping sound, and walked slowly and silently to the back door.
Giles flung the door open, ready for anything. What he saw was Buffy, clutching a pair of black jeans to her chest, looking a little wide-eyed and guilty, an expression he’d come to know very well.
He walked into the room, or rather, strolled in, nonchalantly, and approached his Slayer. “Good evening, Buffy. Forget something?”
Buffy smiled, still pressing the jeans to her, possessively. “Um, Yes. I did, as a matter of fact. These pants! I…er…changed into sweats earlier, and forgot to take these with me when I left.” Too late, Buffy noticed the cig package hanging from the back pocket of the jeans, and knew that she should have just said they were Spike’s in the first place, but a hurried (and worried) liar makes mistakes.
Giles smiled and decided to let her off the hook. He didn’t know where Spike had gotten to, but he needed to get out of here before he found out and saw something that would give him nightmares. He noticed that Buffy had glanced upwards, gone a bit pale, and now was staring at him, smiling a little too effusively.
Good Lord…she reminded him of the Buffy Bot. Ever since Willow had repaired the thing and they had allowed Spike to store it under his crypt, he’d been afraid it would pop out at him at any moment.
At least, from all the activities he witnessed between his Slayer and the vampire, Spike hadn’t touched the thing again himself, and was hopefully using it as an umbrella stand. "Before I go along home for the evening, would you just say my name?"
Buffy frowned. "Huh? Giles, what…"
“Very well, Buffy. Have a nice evening. Or the remainder of it, at least. Please do lock up the place before you leave. I’ll just be going now.” Satisfied in her pronunciation of his name, silly as it had been for him to ask since he was fairly certain she wasn't the bot, Giles turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him, smiling at the muffled voices that were now coming from behind it.
He proceeded on to the front door and outside, locking that one, as he was concerned that Buffy might be a bit preoccupied and forget all about it.
He sighed, in exasperation. Ever since Anya had made the comment about herself and Xander in the training room, it had become a very popular place for several couples. This included Willow and Tara, and as Giles put his key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb, he decided that his thoughts weren’t going there.
It was enough to narrowly miss seeing a half naked vampire suspended from the ceiling.
Still, he ran the next two stop signs when he realized that Buffy hadn't been wearing a shirt.
Buffy closed her eyes, and sighed in relief. She knew Giles well enough to know that he knew something was up, but hadn’t made an issue of it. She craned her neck and looked up into the rafters. “Spike! I said the coast is clear, you can come down now.”
The blonde vampire dropped down from where he’d been hanging from the ceiling and landed directly in front of a giggling Buffy. “Something funny, luv?”
“Yeah, you in a t-shirt and no pants is pretty funny.”
Spike stepped into her arms, as she dropped the pants, which had been concealing the fact that she too, was partially naked. She was glad that Giles was used to her skimpy tops, and hadn’t noticed.
“Didn’t hear you laughing a few moments ago.” He fastened a particularly hot gaze upon her, pulled her closer to his body and kissed her softly, then deepened it, as one of her tanned legs went round him and pulled them more firmly together.
She murmured against his lips. “I didn’t feel like laughing a few moments ago.” She looked down between their bodies to where his 'happy' was pressed against her stomach in all it’s naked glory, the tip just below her own exposed flesh. “But what kind of a guy gets turned on from nearly getting caught hanging from a ceiling?”
“My secret is out,” he said, in a low voice that was rough from intense passion.
After thanking the gods of baggy sweat shorts, Spike made good use of her elevated leg, lifted her slightly, and inserted tab ‘S’ into slot ‘B’.
He sighed, and began to move within her, kissing her gently as he did so. He took his time, loving her slowly, knowing that their alone time was precious to both of them.
Buffy, still very satisfied from previous activities, just hung on and enjoyed the ride, which was well worth the price of admission…Her admission to loving Spike was paying off in spades.
After a fairly short interval compared to usual, Buffy sighed as she came, softly and sweetly, while Spike made the usual assorted happy noises, which included soft growls, and purring.
They dressed quickly, neither taking their eyes off the other, both of them grinning like a pair of raccoons after a successful trashcan raid.
Spike made a mental note to thank Xander profusely for the vaulting horse idea, which they had put to such good use earlier. Of course, it wouldn’t do to let the boy think him soft, and he’d probably have to slap him upside the head afterward. Certain things were expected of him, after all.
Buffy realized that it was growing quite late, and they still had some patrolling to do. That quickie sweep before coming back to the shop wasn’t enough to satisfy her inner Slayer.
Especially since they hadn’t gotten past the first convenient crypt before they’d, as Spike would no doubt say, ‘shagged like bunnies’ and then come straight back here.
Buffy hoped that the noises that had floated out of the crypt had driven off a few vamps, what with Spike yelling ‘SLAYER’ at the top of his lungs, but she felt a stab of guilt at the shortened patrol and there was still plenty of time.
She knew it wouldn’t bother her partner, as he seemed to love a bit of violence before he slept, as well as after good sex. She’d worry about that last thought later, unwilling to admit that it fit her own profile to a ’T’.
After all, there were some things about the Big Bad that were better off left unchanged.
Like, for instance, his love of doing risky things while hanging from a ceiling…she still could hardly believe that he’d grabbed his penis and waved it at her, while Giles had been standing right there and could have looked up at any time.
Not to mention it left him with only one hand to hang on to the rafter!
Spike waved his fingers in front of her face, breaking her daydreaming. "OY…Buffy, luv. Are we calling it a night, or d'ya want to go stir up some trouble?"
Buffy reached up and kissed him, nipping his lower lip playfully as she pulled away. He was, as usual, on the same page. "Lets go do another sweep, and this time I think we'd better finish it, ok?"
Spike faked a hurt look. "Surely you don't blame me for that? I was bloody well seduced, and you know it."
"Really."
"Seduced by the power of your love, which burns brighter than the fire." He smirked.
"Spike, please, that sounded weird enough when the first Slayer said it."
"S'true, though. And I love it when that fire singes my ass."
Spike's eyes had that look again, and as he stepped closer to her, Buffy put out both hands, palms flat, and tried to make her voice sound commanding. "Spike. The patrol, remember?"
"Right. We wait until we get out in the bushes."
Spike envisioned Buffy waiting in said bushes while he dusted any near by vamps and got back just as she finished undressing. It was a good plan.
"Wrong. We give it a break, and do some housecleaning in the cemetery."
Spike pouted, using his lower lip as invitingly as possible. "But Buffy, luv, I bloody 'hate' dusting." Which was a lie, as long as it wasn’t his own dust…
"You love it, and that worries me at times. Come on, fang boy, let's get going before it's so late that I never get any sleep tonight."
Spike scowled. That probably meant that the gymnastics were over for today, because Buffy would want to go home, and she didn't like it when they risked waking her mother and Dawn with their love play.
Of course, he thought, as he followed her out the back door and watched her fanny appreciatively as she bent to lock it, he could always suggest that they patrol near his crypt, and mention the lateness of the hour at just the right moment...
"Oh, and Spike. I need to be home in good time tonight. I worry about leaving Mom and Dawn alone so long these days. You don't mind, do you?"
Spike sighed. Another plan foiled. "Yeah. S'ok." His voice was like a small boy's, after being told he couldn't have any dessert.
Buffy smiled, understandingly, and went up on her toes to kiss his forehead, and then his lips, softly. "Of course, Spike, if you can behave yourself and promise to let us both sleep, you can stay the night. After all, more protection can't hurt, can it?"
Spike grinned happily. Sucker. He bent and returned her kiss, looking forward to a quick patrol, and a long 'sleep'.
As Spike and Buffy moved off down the street, across the alley at the back of the shop, a woman stepped out of the shadow of a building and smiled.
She was dressed to the 'nines' in a slinky, short, red silk dress, and her hair fell in kinky reddish blonde waves around her face and shoulders.
Glory smiled. This was just perfect. The only creatures she had to worry about slowing her down in her search for the Key, were a sickeningly happy couple, apparently oblivious to her for the moment.
And what a lying little slut that Slayer was. She’d hotly denied that the Vampire was her boyfriend, and yet there they were, big as life and unlife.
She clasped her hands together, in mock joy.
"Just enough time for me to pay a visit to Mommie, and baby Sis'. I just adore getting to know my enemy’s family members a bit better, especially when they’re so RUDE as to not invite me over.
Glory stopped smiling, and narrowed her eyes, pursing her red lips together in an unattractive pucker.
“It really hurts my delicate feelings, God Damn it!"
Of course there was always the loved ones, who might know where the key was concealed, and if not, then snatching one of them until the Slayer coughed up the info would work just as well, wouldn't it?
She waited until she was sure that Buffy and the vampire had gone, and then headed off in the other direction.
Glory paused at the front door of the Summers' home, and repressed the urge to giggle. It always gave her an electric zap, to walk into someone's private life and leave it in tatters.
Especially when it had anything to do with getting her Key, and using it before her time was up, the thought of which made her frown, and she bit her full lower lip.
She grabbed the doorknob. It was time for a little mayhem. She licked her lips in anticipation, and shoved the door open, walking into the house like she lived there, and slamming it shut behind her.
"Oh Mommie…I'm hooooome," she said, in a singsong voice. Her face fell, almost comically as Buffy stepped out in front of her from where she'd been standing behind the door.
"Sorry, Hell Bitch. But I never received your RSVP." Smiling grimly, she reached into a bag, which hung from her shoulder and brought out a glowing, crystal like globe. "But just so you don't make the trip for nothing, here's a little door prize!"
Buffy shoved the Dagon Sphere right under the Hell God's nose, and Glory staggered backwards into the door with a loud thump.
Her 'bad home perm' seemed to go limp, as if the humidity had shot up to two hundred percent, and frizzy as well. Then she felt the lights dim as the tiny blonde Slayer punched her in the nose so hard that the doorframe shook. Disoriented, and dizzy from the globe's power, she slid down the door, dropped to her knees, and crawled around Buffy, who was stashing the Dagon Sphere in her bag.
Just when she thought it was too easy to get by the Slayer, she found out why, about a second after she smelled Vampire, and two 'Doc clad feet appeared under her nose.
Spike reached down and turned the confused Hell God around so that she was facing the door again, still on her knees, the hair hanging in her eyes making it hard to see who it was who had the audacity to manhandle her in such a fashion. If it weren’t for that friggin' sphere...
"Hello, Un-Cutie.”
Glory tensed. Shit. She knew that voice. And if that damned Vampire was there, the rest of those pesky Scoobies couldn't be far behind.
They'd become as thick as thieves lately. The one thing she couldn't figure out was why they let a vampire hang with the white hats in the first place. Of course, it couldn’t hurt that he was fucking the Slayer.
She reminded herself for the umpteenth time, to kill herself a minion, for letting this particular vamp get out of their clutches when they'd had him. Yep. As soon as Jinxy healed up, she was going to hurt him again.
Sure enough, she heard the voice of Willow, chanting a spell of some kind and saw the witch’s feet come into view as well. She was still too woozy to rise up and do anything about it and cursed herself for not sending a minion to do a God's work.
Willow sang a little tune, and the words "Get your Kicks, on Route Sixty-Six!"
There was a brief feeling of energy in the air, not unlike before, when Willow and Tara had sent her high up over Sunnydale, and the dizzy reddish blonde knew that something similar was in store for her now, and she rolled her eyes and repeated just what she’d said then. "Oh…fuck!"
"Sorry", said Spike, "You're not my type." He leaned down and whispered into her ear. "And your hair looks like shit, but it will cover the damage when your face looks just like your lopsided ass, after we’re done with you.”
Then, Spike drew back and kicked her right in the backside with such force that she flew out the door, which Buffy had reached and opened just in the nick of time.
Spike was disappointed. He’d hoped to see if Willow’s spell had made his kick powerful enough to send her through the door itself.
Buffy, Spike, and Willow watched from the doorway, grinning, as the mighty Hell God ate asphalt all the way down the street, sliding along at a blinding speed, the rough surface scraping off hunks of skin, proving that she wasn't as hard to nick as previously thought.
Willow had planned her spell well, and the route changed now and then, and would include the thorny bushes at the side of the road. The redhead snickered, as she turned away, the bitch no longer in sight.
"Check it out, people. We snagged some hair…cool." With good luck, and barring unexpected uncovered manholes, the lady was in for quite a trip.
Buffy was still grinning ear to ear, but made a face, and looked questioningly at her best friend.
"What's up with the words to the spell, Wil?"
Willow grinned, proudly. "It could have been anything, any road or trail type thingy.” She basked in the good feeling she was getting from a spell well done. “The hard part, aside from making sure that she was low enough to get peeled good and proper, was getting her speed up so high that she won't be stopping for about six hundred miles." Willows grin was ear-to-ear, and extremely evil.
Spike put one arm out and hugged her to his side, surprising the witch, who turned bright red but allowed his embrace. She really liked Spike, but he still gave her a wiggins.
Spike gave her a big loud kiss on top of her head, and grinned fiendishly at her. "And what about my part of the spell?"
Willow frowned. "You mean, where you got the power to kick that hard?"
Spike rolled his eyes upward. "NO, the part where she mows down the bleedin’ Sunnydale sign with her soddin' face on the way out of town."
Willow gasped, still happy faced. "Oh no…I forgot that part." Spike increased his hug enough to cut off some air. "Ooof! Hey! Non-super strength here, buddy! And I was just kidding! By now Glory's probably got a great big old gap, right between her front teeth."
Spike was enjoying himself immensely, and only loosened his hold on Willow slightly.
The witch glared at him. "Let go, now, or you could find yourself impotent."
Buffy squealed in mock fear as Spike dropped Willow and stepped back hastily. He hated it when the witch threatened his parts.
"Good grief Wil, don't ever use that word after one of your spells, especially when you're standing right next to my boyfriend…you never know what might happen!!"
Spike was clutching his crotch in a worried way and sidling away from Willow, as well. But he'd been pleased at Buffy's use of the word 'boyfriend'. He could never hear that often enough.
Willow shook her head in exasperation. Goof up a spell or two around these people and they never let you forget it. Well, she had something planned for Glory that would get her out of the way forever if she could figure out how to get it to work. That should shut up her detractors for good.
Buffy grinned after Willow's retreating form, as the witch headed to the kitchen for something to drink. "Geez Wil, you did a great job, I was just giving you a hard time," Buffy called out to her friend.
Willow continued on around the corner, waving a hand at her, "Yeah, yeah."
Buffy frowned as she heard a glass being slammed down on the counter, heard it shatter, and Willow's muffled cursing as she cleaned up the mess and got another.
Spike started to go and help, but Buffy grabbed his arm. "Let it go, Blondie. Willow is just frustrated that she can't do anything more permanent right now. I need to talk to you about some things, before I tell Xander to bring Mom and Dawn home."
They had sent her mother and sister to Xander and Anya's apartment until the coast was clear, unsure at the time if Spike had been correct in sensing Glory's presence in the alley behind the shop.
Still looking in the direction of the kitchen, Spike turned and started to smile down at his girl and noticed that she was looking at him as if she were saving some up for a rainy day. "What is it, Pet? Thought you'd be happy to see that there's more than one way to skin a Hell God."
She smiled, still drinking him in. "That was pretty cool. The way you finally got to kick her ass like you always wanted to."
"Damn straight. Maybe you and I should go and celebrate the victory in private, before the others come home. I'm sure that Red will make herself scarce, and go work on a spell or something, and we can…"
As he came close to her, Buffy put her forehead on his chest, and just leaned there a moment, trying to get up the nerve to tell him what she had decided, and dreading the reaction she knew it was going to cause. This evening's close shave had brought it home to her, just how much she had let things get out of hand, with possible serious repercussions.
The Vampire knew his Slayer almost better than she knew herself. He knew she was about to really piss him off, and he stepped back, and waited for the blow to fall.
She looked up at him, putting her feelings for him into her gaze, and hoped that he wasn't going to take this the wrong way. "Spike…we have to cool it for awhile."
Trying desperately not to sound like William, long dead, he said with a touch of cockiness, "Right you are. Silly of me…should have known you'd be tired, and needing sleep and all." He reached out a hand, and brushed the hair from Buffy's forehead, lightly running his fingers down her cheek as he withdrew it. He stepped back, a fake smile plastered on his face, and moved toward the door. "So, I'll just pop along home, then, and you can call the whelp and tell him he can bring home the womenfolk."
Before he could escape, although she nearly let him go, nearly choked back the words, she said them. "I can't see you any more." Buffy clapped her hands over her mouth in horror, but the damage had been done. She had meant to ease into it…
If Spike's heart had been beating, it would have stopped.
He had turned toward the door, so his face was hidden from her, and she didn’t see the shock, and the betrayal written on it. This was ten times worse than what he’d felt when she’d uninvited him from her house.
She could feel the tension coming off of him in waves, and longed to go and wrap her arms around him, take back her words, and think of another way out. "Spike, I..."
The vampire whirled toward her, and it was quickly brought home to her just how hard a blow she'd struck him.
Spike was trying to keep his demon under control, and his eyes, flashing from blue to gold and back again, told her that his efforts were going to fail if she didn't choose her next words carefully.
But she didn't get the words out before he grabbed her by both arms and growled, low in his throat, kissing her so hard that she felt the skin split on her lower lip. He broke the kiss and held her against him, in so tight an embrace that she didn't even try to move away.
"You're mine, Buffy. And I'm keepin' you. And sod all else!!"
He murmured that and other things, in words that ran together in a confusing jumble of love talk, his lips against her neck, his nostrils drinking in her scent, and then the scent of her blood flowing hot just under the skin his lips were caressing, blood from her lip so enticingly near his own.
Willow picked that moment to come back into the room, and stopped, shocked, as she saw Spike vamp, saw his fangs so near Buffy's neck, and panicked. She let out a squeak, and dropped her glass of Coke, which shattered on the floor.
Spike looked up, his eyes a deep gold, still holding Buffy who didn't seem to be fighting him.
"Back off Red. This is extremely private!"
Willow went into full protector mode, her eyes became dark as India ink, and she waved one arm toward the couch.
Spike found himself flying through the air, and landing on it, minus Buffy.
The witch ran to her friend in concern, but Buffy shook off the haze in her brain, and patted Willow on the arm.
"It's ok, Wil, it's no big."
"SCREW that! He was just about to have a midnight snack in full view of the neighborhood, which has got to think that this house is strange enough already!!"
Which had to be true, what with Hell God’s shooting out the doors and screeching down the street at all hours…
Spike tried to get up off the couch, but found that Willow had somehow rendered that impossible, so after he found out that he could stand up on it at least, he began pacing back and forth like a caged tiger.
His demon had subsided, but he wasn't sure how long he could keep it down. He loved Buffy, and would never hurt her, but he was damned if he'd take this sitting down. No pun intended, he thought.
As Willow soothed Buffy, she looked at her, with a stern, substitute teacher expression. "You told him, didn't you? You just blurted it out, all Buffy like, without explaining it?"
"I'm sorry, Wil, it just needed to be said, and it seemed like a good time, he was so happy about the spell and all…"
Willow sometimes felt that Buffy was incredibly immature.
They had discussed this whole problem in length, days before this, and the tiny blonde had promised to break it to Spike gently, explain it first, and then ease the rest onto his love crazed brain, not just toss it at him like a tub of holy water!!
She knew that her friend cared for the vampire, and that it was hurting her, as well, to stop seeing him, but there were limits to her patience.
Willow shook her head sadly.
"Buffy, excuse me if I'm stretching the whole best friend clause all out of proportion, but…you're a DOOFUS."
Buffy didn't reply, but her eyes widened.
Willow grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her to the couch. "There! Now you just stand here and tell him WHY, and hurry, before the spell gets weak enough to let him down, and he eats you. And I may not stop him!"
Willow stomped off to clean up the second glass that she'd broken that day, not counting the beer bottle that Glory had landed on just east of the driveway.
Buffy stood, her eyes downcast, afraid to look up at Spike. He'd stopped his pacing but was silent, standing at one end of the couch, his back to her.
As she opened her mouth to speak, his leather duster landed smack on top of her head, and covered her up.
Well, at least he hadn't lost his sense of humor completely.
She gathered the coat around her and drank in the scent of her vampire, for she had come to think of him as hers. She loved the odor of tobacco and, there was just no other way to put it, sex.
He oozed it out of his pores, if they did that anymore. She was lost in thought, wondering about that, when she felt his stare.
"What?"
"Bloody hell, woman! If you're gonna dump me, just do it, and be bloody quick about it. Maybe that stupid bint Harmony is still around somewhere, if I care to look her up." Spike was dying inside, but refused to go down like a Poof.
Buffy ignored most of it, although the Harmony part raised the hair on the back of her neck. He didn't mean a word of it.
She took his hands and turned him around to face her, and looked up at him, pleading with her wide, tear filled eyes, for his understanding.
He tried to grab her, but found out he was powerless to do so, while she was able to stroke his arm, and pat his hand, he was unable to even pull away!
Spike had been angry before, but now he was totally pissed.
He glared at Willow, who was smiling now, as she finished wiping up the coke and shattered glass. She'd left Buffy able to knock him on his ass if she wanted to, while HE was powerless to stop her.
"WITCH!" He yelled at her, unable to come up with anything more fitting, and still respectful of her power.
She giggled as she carried the dustpan past the pair. "I know I am, but what are you?"
She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and said, "Now behave, both of you, and hash this out!" Then she left them alone again.
Spike finally met Buffy's gaze and melted, as he always did, at her tears.
"Buffy, luv, how the fuck did you think I'd feel, you sayin' what you said?"
She laid her cheek against the back of one of his hands, and closed her eyes. It would be so easy to just do as her desire was bidding her at this moment.
His position on the couch was so that she was very near his midsection, and as she dropped his hand and laid her cheek against his lower abdomen her eyes opened, and she beheld the fly of his jeans.
Her favorite, faded, black, button fly jeans, that had the middle button missing and, with very little effort on her part, would allow her tongue to slip inside, and....
Willow's face suddenly bumped noses with Buffy's, scaring her to death, and disappointing Spike beyond the telling.
Except that two seconds later he was getting some other images that almost made up for it, even though he knew a threesome would never happen.
Willow glared up at him for a moment, as if she knew just what he was thinking, and he walked to the other end of the couch and sat down, clearly in a huff. The witch turned to Buffy, who had pasted an innocent expression on her face. "Buffy! What happened to talking?"
"But Wil, it's hard!" She blushed.
"I mean, that's not what I meant, but, you know what I mean, right?" Her voice was high and squeaky.
"Huh?"
Willow was unused to being the one with the ready answers. She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "Buffy, TELL him WHY."
At her friend's pleading look, Willow sighed, and went into the dining room and came back dragging a chair from the dinner table. She sat it beside Spike, and plopped down in it.
He turned his face away, into the cushions on the couch. She wiggled her index finger in front of his nose.
"See this digit, Spike?"
"I see it, and I'd like to bite it off, right about now."
"That's good. It's good that you feel free enough to tell me your feelings like this. So in return, I'm gonna tell you about mine, before I explain what Buffy can't seem to, and you're gonna listen to me, or this little finger will send you somewhere much more unpleasant than this couch…are you following me?"
"Sod off!"
"Again, I'm proud of you for expressing yourself, and here's how it is. The next time I see you showing any fang, it had better be because the biggest, scariest, most evil of all demons on the planet is about to attack someone, or the world is about to end, or, or…"
"Don't forget the sex." He smirked, eyeing her now.
"Scuse me?" Willow squeaked.
"When Buffy and I have sex, there's going to be a bit of fang. Didn't she tell you? Figured she did, what with you ladies gossiping all the time."
Willow and her hair were matching accessories. "Spike, I don't need to know everything about you and Buffy's private lives..."
"Especially since there isn't any from now on." Spike practically spit the words in Buffy's direction.
Buffy's head snapped up and she looked at him, still hurting, but she said nothing, and remained where she was.
This infuriated Spike and he continued. "Yeah. You mean you don't need to hear how she gets all excited, like, and then at just the right moment, right before she comes, she tells me she'll never leave me, and then she makes this sound, and then I go game face and I…"
"Too. Much. Information!!!" Willow fled the room, and the sound of a coke bottle being opened floated out of the kitchen again.
Buffy sighed. She would have to tell him. After all, she owed him that much.
She didn't approach him, and instead, stayed a good distance away, where she could think more clearly. "When I said I couldn't see you any more, I didn't mean forever."
Spike felt a faint hope stir, but was afraid to have it dashed. He kept silent.
Buffy couldn't stand it, finally, and went to him. She looked down at him where he sat on the couch, his knees drawn up to his chin, and saw the hurt he was trying to hide behind harsh words. Without taking her eyes off him, she yelled toward the kitchen. "Willow! Lose this spell. Now."
It was her commanding, Slayer mode, and it had banished the tiny blonde sex maniac to the rear of her brain.
Willow's pinky finger peeped around the doorway, flicked just a little, and Spike's feet shot off the couch nearly knocking Buffy down. "Sorry." Willow mumbled from the kitchen.
Spike pulled his feet back up where they'd been, and wrapped his arms around them, still unwilling to touch Buffy, and she didn't blame him a bit.
She smiled at him, and then sobered. Getting down on her knees in front of him, she continued. "Do you know what 'tunnel vision’ is, Spike?" She said it in a soft voice, which brought his eyes immediately to hers.
And he knew, just with that look, what she meant. He'd had it himself, for much longer than she. Sometimes he thought he'd invented it. "I get it. I see what you're trying to say, but..."
"No, Spike, it has to be this way. Until Willow, or Giles, or even me or you…SOMEONE…comes up with a way to stop Glory, permanently, you and I are too big a danger to each other, let alone Dawn and the rest."
She paused and reached out to run her finger down his chest, caressing the soft material of his t-shirt as if it were the finest silk.
"When I think of what could have happened to Dawn, or to Mom, while we were too busy making out somewhere, it's more than I can bear, and I'm not blaming you, not altogether anyway." She leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek, and waited for her words to sink in.
She was right, and he knew it. He was also tremendously relieved that she wasn't just casting him aside for some other reason.
He knew that the pull between them was so strong right now, it was blinding them to anything else around them, be that the ringing of a telephone, or the sound of a Hell God, sneaking off down an alley.
If he hadn't caught it...that faint sound, and turned his head, that and the stench of the bitch's perfume, they might have com