After leaving Giles, Buffy headed back to the dorms to wash away the old book smell and overwhelming confusion.  When she entered her room, freshly showered and wrapped in her favorite fuzzy robe, she noticed the time was noon.  Without much debate, she easily decided to ditch her remaining classes and declared today a “pampering Buffy day.”
 
Said pampering started with a manicure, followed by a pedicure.  While relaxing in the massage chair and relishing the hot water bubbling around her weary feet, she admired her perfectly pink polished fingernails.  She hoped they lasted at least one night before some demon ruined them.
 
While the matching pink polish on her toes dried, the stylist started on her hair.  When it was finally perfectly coiffed—after a root touch-up and the addition of subtle hi-lights, followed by a wash, cut, and blow-dry, she headed out, eager for some more “me time.”
 
Two hours later, Buffy emerged from the last of many boutiques with another bag of goodies.  Her last purchase of a racy, black bra and panty set had her slightly elated.  Nothing beats lacy unmentionables to make you feel sexy and a tad naughty.
 
Topping off the perfect day, she stopped by the Espresso Pump for a sugared-up mocha with extra whipped cream and a chocolate-chip muffin.  While savoring the chocolaty goodness, she people watched.
 
It was interesting how everyone passing by appeared so content.  They acted completely unaware of all that happened in Sunnydale when the sun went down or if they truly did know, they chose not to pay it any mind.  Envious of their blissful denial, Buffy decided even if it was only for a few hours, she would join them and do the same.
 
As day gave way to night and the sky became a kaleidoscope of jeweled hues, Buffy decided her time visiting Mayberry was over, and she had to come back to the harsh, demon-filled reality that was her life.
 
With a parting wistful look at all the normal people living their normal lives, she headed toward her dorm room, taking the scenic route.
 
When she finally reached her destination, Buffy hesitated, dreading to end her carefree, relaxing day.  With her hand resting on the knob, she inhaled deeply, preparing herself for what lingered beyond the door—her life.
 
Resigned she couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer; she slowly turned the knob and entered.  Buffy breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed Willow wasn’t there.  She really wasn’t in the mood to have the deep, sharing conversation she knew Willow had in mind, based on the note she left this morning.
 
With a lingering smile, Buffy sorted and put away the day’s buys then quickly changed into some comfortable kick-ass wear.  After strategically placing several stakes on her person, she slid on her favorite waist-length, leather jacket and headed out to patrol.     
 
As Buffy trekked through Restfield cemetery her mind wandered to Giles’ unexpected guest—the really confusing and deeply confused blond.  Even though today was strictly a “Buffy” day, she found her thoughts repeatedly returning to him.
 
This afternoon while watching people going about their day, she wondered what the world was like when William was alive.  With the impromptu history lesson this morning she knew they didn’t have electricity, toilets, or zippers.
 
Buffy gulped when she thought about the last and very revealing lesson.  She’d felt like a first class perv gawking at his strange metal fastening.  All he was trying to do was figure out how to unzip his pants, and she eyed him like he was some Chippendale dancer sans the shiny pecs and dollar-filled thong.  
 
Mmm…now that’s an image.  Seeing his oil-slicked body shimming and shaking to Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” and me with an endless supply of dollar bills.  Now that’s—“
 
Buffy was cut off mid-thought when a vamp unexpectedly grabbed her from behind.  Instinctually she threw her head back, striking her attacker’s face with a head butt.  Feeling his arms loosen around her waist, she grabbed one of his wrists and leaned forward, launching the vamp over her back.  He landed hard several feet away.  Buffy skillfully unsheathed the stake tucked in her waistband and stormed forward as the vamp stood. 
 
“Hello, rude much?  I’m not an all you can eat buffet!  Well, maybe I am… here’s a stake!”
 
As she lunged forward to plunge her stake home, the vamp unpredictably spun and landed a roundhouse kick squarely to her mouth.  Buffy staggered backward, knocking over, and breaking a headstone in two.  She landed on top of it with a resounding thud, causing her teeth to gnash together.  The impact forced the stake out of her hand, and it rolled out of reach, several feet away.
 
Before Buffy could regain her mental balance, the vamp jumped on top of her.  He straddled her midsection, effectively pinning her arms with his inner thighs.  She tried to move her legs to dislodge him, but she couldn’t gain purchase on the slick stone beneath her.  
 
With a hiss, he lunged forward.  Buffy’s eyes slammed shut waiting for the sting of his fangs.  The pain never came.  Instead, her eyes flashed open following a loud howl of death and the loss of the weight once pressing against her.
 
Buffy focused on who now loomed above her.  The bright moonlight emphasized his unmistakable halo of white hair.  Before she could speak, Spike had taken the other vamp’s place straddling her waist, yet he didn’t restrain her arms.
 
Despite how easily she could extricate herself, she remained pinned by his golden stare. His head characteristically tilted while his eyes darting over her face.  When he seemed to find what he was looking for, he planted his hands on either side of her shoulders.  His nostrils flared while he took in her scent, before he lowered his head.                              
 
Buffy’s inner-warning bells sounded to a deafening level, still she couldn’t move.  Even though she knew this was wrong, somewhere deep inside her—the untouched primal part, found this strangely erotic and craved it.
 
She watched his tongue passing the row of jagged fangs, stretching to a refined point.  She then felt the raspy tip brushing against her chin and languidly traveling upward following the thin trail of blood.  When he reached her slightly bloodied mouth, his tongue swirled around the ragged gash marring her bottom lip before he started suckling the wound.
 
Buffy felt her entire body igniting from this extremely arousing yet highly risqué act.  The vibrating, hard planes of his chest brushed against hers triggering her nipples to pebble, and she felt his evident erection pressing into her stomach causing the area between her thighs to pulsate and dampen.
 
Even though lost in these sensations, she felt him releasing her lip and with a parting lap, Spike shifted his face into her line of vision.  Her hazy vision flickered over his demonic but exquisite features.
 
Buffy’s eyes landed and focused on his mouth.  She noticed the smudge of her blood on his lips.  This sight immediately pushed past the lustiness and triggered the Slayer inside to finally react.  Buffy brought up her hands, placed them on his chest, and with all her strength shoved him off her.
 
Skillfully she sprang up and took off through the cemetery without looking back as though the devil himself was on her heels.  At this moment, in her mind she believed Spike was truly that.
 
She didn’t slow until she reached the safety of Revello Drive.  Clambering up the side of her house, she climbed through her bedroom window and headed toward the bed.
 
 
 

When the first rays of the morning light flittered through the window, Buffy sat on her bed still dressed in the clothing from the night before, clutching a stake to her breast.  She hadn’t moved all night.
 
Finally with the safety of the sun, Buffy began robotically readying for the day.  With her mind still on the evening’s events, she donned her jacket and pocketed Mr. Pointy.  Buffy left the way she came and the instant her feet hit the ground, her mind shifted to her day’s purpose.
 
With absolute intent, she headed through the streets of Sunnydale.  When she reached her destination, without knocking and with a force of a windstorm, she entered Giles’ apartment.
 
Her gaze immediately zeroed in on her target.  Within three strides she approached Spike sitting on the couch with Giles, the last of their conversation still hanging in the air.
 
“Ah, good morning Buffy.  William and I have been discussing—“
 
Buffy ignored Giles as she roughly grabbed Spike by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him to his feet.
 
“How dare you!  You may have fooled everyone else, but I’m not so easily tricked and this charade ends now, Spike!”
 
With each word Buffy stepped forward, jabbing her finger into Spike’s chest causing him to step back.  Their movements created a macabre dance around the room as Buffy purposely steered him toward the open front door.
 
“You’re lucky I’m letting you leave with all your limbs attached. You know that right?  Or maybe I shouldn’t be so generous and stake your undead ass,” Buffy removed Mr. Pointy and raised it, “faster than you can say bloody… hell?”
 
Buffy’s last word didn’t come out with the same intensity as the others when her brain finally caught up with her mouth.  Her bewildered gaze now focused intently on Spike standing in the courtyard— bathed in direct sunlight.