SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.01
Friday, May 10th, 2002

Spike lay on one side next to her on the floor of the narrow hallway with his head propped up on one hand, while the other stroked the planes of Buffy's face, drawing her back into the real world. They both still wore the long black leather coats in which they had left the Bronze, but their other clothes were in disarray. He smiled softly down at her dazed expression and watched her eyelids flicker open. "I guess you changed your mind about 'Wind Beneath My Wings', then."

Buffy smiled back at him. "I hadn't, until now."

"Are you okay, love?" Spike asked.

"If I said that I can't remember ever feeling better, would you get all big-headed?" Buffy teased.

"Pet, I've been struttin' around like the cock o' the walk since you agreed to go on a date. It's a bit late to go worryin' about me gettin' a big head."

"I guess I walked into that one," Buffy conceded. "Any reason I shouldn't be okay?"

"Well, something was botherin' you earlier, and then of course, there are all those side-effects that Rupert is lookin' for. So if you sprout fangs, I would like to be the first to know."

"Right, earlier... " Giving him a wry smile, she adjusted her top so that it was back in a position that actually covered her breasts, and smoothed down her wraparound skirt as she spoke.

"Yeah, love. You said you would tell me what was causing all the frowns when we got back here." Taking his cue from Buffy, Spike pulled up his jeans and refastened everything. He stood up easily, and extended a hand to Buffy. She took it and let him help her up, even though they both knew she could have flipped into an upright position quicker, if that had been what she had wanted.

"And I also mentioned opening the champagne."

Spike shrugged off his duster and waited to take Buffy's. "I reckon we can manage that. Why don't you go get comfy, and I'll put these away and sort out the wine?"

Buffy wandered through into the flat's main room. She debated whether it was best to get comfy there, or whether she should make her way to the bedroom. In the end, she opted for the sofa. It wasn't as if it made too much difference, she rationalised. They had never exactly limited themselves to the bedroom, and if they were going to get distracted, it wouldn't matter where they were. If the previous times Spike had tasted her blood were anything to go by, then they were going to be in for a busy night later. Spike was probably half-killing himself, trying to be restrained about it for long enough for them to have a conversation.

Buffy couldn't help but smile when she noticed that Spike's version of serving champagne appeared to involve a bowl of strawberries. "Hedonist," she accused.

Spike just smirked back. "Never did see the point in half measures."

Buffy was brought quickly back to the topic she wanted to discuss. "No, I guess you never did." She waited as Spike settled in beside her and dropped a strawberry into each glass before pouring the wine.

"What's on your mind, pet?"

"Rosa... Lily... Clem, Marie, me, Angel, the Initiative, us ." Buffy's voice softened, and the look she gave Spike could almost qualify as shy. "Look, I'm probably not going to make a whole lot of sense; I don't exactly have everything sorted out in my head, and it's all vaguely connected, but not."

"I used to manage to make sense out of what Dru had to say. I think I'll cope." Spike tucked one leg under so that he could sit facing her and loosely took the fingers of the hand she wasn't using to hold her glass.

"Clem's brother was killed by the Initiative, wasn't he?" Buffy asked.

"Not entirely sure, pet, but I get that general impression. Yeah."

"That could have been me. I could have done that. If Maggie hadn't been trying to kill me. "Class 3", "not normally aggressive", "sometimes turn out to be racoons". That's Clem. I could have put Clem in one of those boxes and I would have thought I did a good day's work. And I still don't know I didn't kill him when we were trying to break out of there."

"You want to look at it like that, then I can't exactly vouch for my innocence either, pet."

"You're a vampire. Innocent doesn't really go with the territory. Shit. There I go again. Categorising people. Look all I know is being around Lily made me take a good look at myself, and I didn't like what I saw. I've been doing this for too long Spike. I've spent a third of my life fighting so-called monsters, and I think unless you can help pull me back, I'm not too far from becoming one."

"Pet, it's not like I don't want to help you, but it seems like you're forgetting who or rather what you're talking to."

"No, no I'm not. I know exactly who I'm talking to. Remember, back when you got the 'bot, I went on this slayer quest. I thought I was becoming hardened. That, well, I'd end up sort of where I was when I came back. In my vision I was told that the only way I'd lose the ability to love was if I refused it. I've been refusing it for years. I need you to help me open up. Ever since Angel, I've hidden away, built walls. I need you to help me tear them down. No more half measures, okay?"

Spike smiled back at her. "Pet, don't you get it? I'm not saying we're going to be living in each others heads or anything, but if things work the way I think, unless you make a conscious effort to hide stuff, things are bound to be more open between us."

"But I don't feel any different."

"I think maybe that's because mostly we're feeling the same things. After what happened before, I think that's only natural, but when I reminded you that you wanted to talk, it was like this little niggle. I knew you were worried about something. Just like if I think about it, I can tell that now you're mostly relieved and just a little bit worried... Okay, more worried. What's wrong, pet?"

"I can't feel you. Why can you feel me, but I can't feel you?"

"Love, you're confused as hell. You're not going to be able to work out what's you and what's me until you're a bit more sorted out, and there's no guarantee that we'll both be affected the same way. Give it some time. Okay?"

"Hey, I got it. You were all concerned there and then happy and relieved when I got it and back to the lust, which was kind of all mixed in with mine before."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing I didn't already get just from looking in your eyes." Buffy leant forward to brush her lips against his, letting her feelings for him come to the fore as she did so. Spike found himself wondering if he really could drown in her, as the gentle caress seemed to hit with the emotional force of a tidal wave.

His eyes searched her face as they finally drew apart. "Buffy, if we ever lose this, if things somehow go wrong and you leave me, promise you'll stake me first."

"Shh. This isn't going to go wrong. You promised me forever, and I'm going to hold you to it... but if I ever do leave you, if that's what you want, then I will." Mentally, Buffy filed away the promise as one more reason she was going to make what they had between them work.

"Thank you," Spike replied.

"You know I'm only saying that because I'm never intending for it to happen," Buffy told him.

"I know, but I know that now I've got your word on it, you'll stick to it, pet." Spike's eyes showed the same melancholy that Buffy could feel through their bond.

"Not gonna happen, Blue Eyes." Buffy raised her glass to his. "To us, for life... or whatever you call it in your case."

"Life suits me just fine, baby."

 

---

Saturday, May 11th, 2002

Spike woke first, for once the desires propagated by Buffy's proximity taking second place to the vague memory he retained of his dreams the night before. There was no cohesion to the dream, no hidden issue needing to be resolved, no real memory of the dreams events, just a cherished brush with the comforting presence that had been and would always be Joyce.

Buffy lay spooned against him, and he took care to move only his eyes toward the alarm clock until it confirmed it was time to wake her.

He placed feather soft kisses on her bare shoulders and neck until she stirred against him. Even before she was fully awake, she shifted closer to him, her leg hooking over his so that his dick lay between her thighs rather than against her butt. Spike threw another glance at the clock and decided breakfast would have to be courtesy of the drive through window at Micky D's. He tried a couple of slow thrusts, the head of his cock brushing against her moist folds until she leant forward and reached between her legs to guide him home. They moved against each other with infinite slowness, their overused bodies protesting at being joined once again, but at the same time, unable to resist the magnetic pull of mingled desire and love. It took time for this slow fire to build, each savouring anew the empathic connection between them. The more Spike was aware of Buffy's feelings for him, the more his own emotions radiated out to her, so that the bond seemed to amplify their feelings until their physical coupling seemed more a catalyst than an end in itself.

Still joined, they rolled so that Spike lay on his back with Buffy straddling him. He watched a bead of perspiration as it trickled down between her shoulder blades, following its path down to the smooth curves of her ass as they rode up and down.

Sitting up, he let one hand rove her body bestowing gentle caresses whilst his other brushed sticky strands of hair from her face and neck, laying bare the mark that made her his. Buffy trembled as his fingers brushed against the mark, and she remained in place when her hips ground against his. She started to use her inner muscles to work him, and reaching behind, she drew his head forward so that his lips covered the teeth marks on her throat. She didn't need to tell him. He could feel the upsurge in her desire, and he bit down, his jaws open wide enough to let his tongue probe the marks left by his fangs. His human teeth didn't break the skin, nor did his tongue tear the scar tissue that had only lately healed, but it was enough. Buffy came with a feral scream that was only just recognisable as his name, and he let himself be drawn with her.

As her tremors stilled he drew her back against his chest, holding her to him as he reclined into the mass of pillows that had somehow found their way onto the floor, along with the two of them and the duvet.

"Mornin', love." Spike infused the greeting with a wry humour that made it apparent he was well aware of its inadequacy.

"Right back at ya... love." Buffy shifted and then rolled over on top of him so that she looked down into his face. "Is it just me, or did we manage to make your bits all sore too?"

Spike grimaced slightly. "There's some light chafing. Nothin' that won't put itself to rights by tonight, and nothin' I wouldn't do all over again."

"Y' know this time when Dawn says I look all sore and limpy, I'm putting the blame firmly where it belongs."

"And where would that be, pet?"

"On you... and those sexy blue eyes... and those arms that feel so right when they're wrapped round me... on that dick of yours that fits so tight, it feels like I'm going to burst..."

"Somehow, I don't see your discussions with the littlest Summers being quite that frank and open, but feel free to tell Harris if he asks. He does like that "Best Friend" title. I say it's time he earned it." Spike craned his neck to kiss her good morning.

"I love you, you know." Somehow the words just tripped out of his mouth of their own accord.

"I know. After last night, believe me. I know, and the feeling's mutual, Blue Eyes."

"That's good." Buffy looked down at his mischievous grin, wondering what exactly was coming next. "So you won't kill me when I tell you we're meant to pick the witches up in twenty minutes for your little weekend shopping trip in LA..."

 

---

 

Spike waited till Buffy went upstairs to pack some things before he beckoned Willow outside.

"I've got a favour t' ask ya, pet... Think you can check up a bit on the computer, see what you can come up with on Dawn's lad? Check on his dad? See what happened to this teacher he replaced? I know it'll probably be a while before you get a chance, but I thought it was best to catch you when the young 'un wasn't around, 'n' I figured no point worryin' Buffy unless it turns out there's something to worry about."

Willow wandered toward the trunk of the car with her backpack, and Spike ambled alongside shrouded within the hooded sweatshirt once more. "Kind of there ahead of you. It all just seems to fit too nice. Alternative enough to be a proto-Spike, with a comic book T-shirt that got him and Xander off to a flying start. A dad that also has the perfect excuse to keep an eye on Dawnie through the day and the pair of them all-new in town.

Checking will be done, don't worry. I can already tell you the teacher he replaced died by neck rupture. Buffy had to swing by the morgue a few weeks back, just to play safe. I think they had substitutes in for a while until they took on someone permanent."

"Thanks, pet. At least that's something. Even if it only means they waited till a teacher got themselves made into somebody's dinner before they filled the gap."

Willow looked across at the vampire as he opened up the trunk. "You know we can't prove he's innocent. Don't you?"

"I know. If everything seems clean, then it might just mean they've got a really good cover. But if we don't try..."

 

---

 

Spike didn't manage to stay as far clear of the shopping as he would have liked this time. Instead, he was despatched to a nearby coffee bar only to have Dawn fetch him once any danger of him seeing "the dress" had passed. He was forced to sit with Buffy and Tara while the other half of the party tried on a multitude of dresses, only for Buffy to make them go back and try on the first one again.

Spike was having a hard time trying to figure out why Buffy wanted him there, when he could just as easily have waited in the car. It wasn't like she needed his advice, or even as if she'd take it if he offered. She seemed to be managing to avoid turning them into meringues, or picking a colour that clashed with Red's hair, all on her own, so why...

A small hand tucked itself in at his elbow and a blonde-streaked head came to rest on his shoulder, as her other hand moved to hide a yawn. Spike looked down and placed a gentle kiss on her hair content that he knew exactly why he was where he was.

 

---

 

Spike had a bad feeling about the night to come. Buffy had made a phone call to her father's LA number, and by some miracle Hank had deigned to pick up the phone. Apparently he was back at the home office for a couple of weeks, for training on their new software package. So now Buffy, Dawn and he were supposed to go and have dinner with him and his bit on the side.

Spike had vaguely been prepared to meet the guy on the day of the wedding, when he'd figured there would be too many people around for either one of them to say enough to start trouble. Instead, Hank had invited them to dinner at his country club, and Buffy had been forced to refuse because she knew not one of the three of them owned the right clothes, let alone had them with them.

Buffy had proposed that they might go to a small, family restaurant that they'd frequented semi-regularly when they still lived together as a family. The kind of place that didn't mind children, or people wearing jeans. Hank had agreed but managed to sound put out at having to change his reservations, so that he had Buffy feeling guilty before they even met up.

Spike was damned if he was going to feel guilty. Buffy had it in her head that they had to be nice to the wanker. Spike, however, was more than ready to tell the old tosser exactly what he thought of his so-called parenting and give him what for, for not stepping into the breach when Joyce fell ill to make sure Buffy and Dawn were provided for at least until they finished college.

Dawn was aligning herself with Spike, though she'd promised she wouldn't say anything without provocation. She hadn't told Buffy that by her estimation, she had over a year of provocation watching Buffy's academic career vanish and seeing her work herself into exhaustion. Still, she might hold out for a bit; at least until Hank decided to call Spike "boy" or some other patronising term. Heck, she wouldn't just wait. She would have paid for a ticket to see that one.