A/N: Much love to my beta, the delightfully squishy ClawofCat.

*****

Chapter 1

When the spell broke, it took Spike a moment to remember that he was supposed to be disgusted. In his defense, he’d been a little distracted. There’s only so much wriggling blonde Slayer a vampire can take before he starts to lose focus.

Besides, his mind was still spinning with the realization that he could hurt demons. He’d been passively bemoaning his uselessness and getting pummeled by Red’s latest magical screw-up, while Buffy, Xander, and Anya attempted to fight off the variety pack of demons that kept streaming into the crypt. But when one of the demons caught Buffy in a chokehold, lifting her up a foot off the ground so that her legs kicked ineffectually at its knees, something inside him snapped. Letting out a primal roar, Spike morphed into game face and charged at his fiancée’s assailant, with complete disregard for the impending migraine.

He was surprised when it never came. “It didn’t hurt!” he crowed, marveling at this new development. He turned to Buffy, who was picking herself up off the floor. “I can hit demons! Buffy, love, I can –”

His celebration was abruptly cut short as the demon knocked him to the ground from behind.

“That’s great, sweetie,” Buffy replied, launching into a roundhouse kick that took out their attacker. “Think you could help me out here?”

They fought beautifully, side by side, as though they’d always known they were meant for each other. Spike’s body thrummed with excitement, adrenaline flooding him with the thrill of battle. He’d thought nothing could be better than fighting her, but that was a mere shadow of what it felt like to be fighting with her, in tandem, feeling their bodies in sync.

Of course, watching her fight made him hot – it always had – and he could tell by the lingering scent in the air that she was getting aroused, too. So, it was no surprise that when he went sprawling on his back, and she landed on top of him, the fighting gave way to the fiercest kiss he’d ever experienced.

So, yeah, of course he was distracted.

In fact, if it hadn’t been for Buffy leaping off him, spitting and grousing about “lips of Spike,” he might not have realized the spell was broken. Hurriedly, he scrambled away from her and acted in kind, mimicking her revulsion. Fortunately for him, everyone else was preoccupied with the sudden appearance of Willow in the crypt and hadn’t seemed to notice his lingering goodwill toward the Slayer.

After that, he was much better with the disgust, complaining about Buffy taste in his mouth and ratting her out to her friends about wanting “Wind Beneath My Wings” for the first dance. Although, really, it was a terrible song, and even if they were getting married he’d still have to insist that –

Wait. Stop. What was he thinking?

There was no “if they were getting married.” It was a spell, a horrible, revolting spell that made them do horrible, revolting things. He was just a little… disoriented, yeah. From the spell. Wasn’t thinking straight. He didn’t really want to marry the Slayer, and there was no way in hell that he was in love with her.

That was just… silly.

*****

Thoroughly embarrassed by Spike’s revelation to her friends about her horrible taste in music, Buffy retreated into the kitchen with Willow on her heels.

“Did I mention about the sorry part?” Willow asked sheepishly.

“We may be into a forgetting spell later,” Buffy replied, her arms folded across her chest. She glanced out toward the living room. “I loved him,” she said with disbelief. “We were betrothed.”

“Well, at – at least you were getting along.”

“But we weren’t. I mean, I wasn’t even nice.” He’s a really good kisser, though, she thought, and then immediately rejected the idea. “Oh, and the whole bad-boy thing?” She glanced pensively at Spike. “So over it,” she lied.

“Well, that’s good!” Willow encouraged her, happy that at least something good came out of her screw-up. “So, no more second-thoughtiness with Riley?”

Buffy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God, Riley!”

“What?”

“He saw me looking at wedding dresses,” Buffy explained, “and I told him I was engaged! What the hell am I going to say?”

*****

It didn’t go as well as she’d hoped. He seemed pretty agreeable with the “crazy Buffy” idea, but she didn’t think he quite bought her story about pretending to be engaged in order to give him a hard time. He’d kind of walked away with that perplexed expression on his face – the one he seemed to wear a lot around her, actually. She was beginning to think maybe he wasn’t so weird for wanting to practice before having a conversation with her. Sometimes she couldn’t even make sense of the words that were coming out of her mouth.

Here’s a plan, she thought. How about I just avoid him altogether, and we’ll write this one off as a failure? Then, we can move on to scaring away the next normal guy who shows an interest in me.

With her focus set on “normal guy,” Buffy stubbornly blocked out of her mind the memories of cuddling on Spike’s lap, with his strong, comforting arms around her. She refused to analyze her feelings, to ask herself why she felt so safe in her enemy’s embrace. It was an Angel thing. Had to be. Just a case of finding solace in the familiarity of a slightly cool body wrapped around her, the stillness of an unbeating heart as she pressed against his chest, and someone to hold her tight enough that even a Slayer could feel delicate.

She hadn’t realized that Spike could be tender. She should have, obviously, because she’d seen the way he was with Drusilla. But to have it suddenly directed at her…

She missed it. Craved it. Wanted his gentleness, his caresses, his murmured endearments and soothing reassurances. She wanted to be held, comforted, protected, in a way she hadn’t been since her seventeenth birthday.

She hated it, because wanting those things made her feel weak. And she’d better get the hell over this thing with Spike, because if that birthday had taught her anything, it was that vampires couldn’t be trusted, especially not with her heart. Spike was evilbadwrong, and someday he’d be able to fight her again, and this stupid weakness from this stupid spell would only get her killed. Again.

So, that was it, she decided. Just a missing Angel thing. Nothing to do with Spike personally. And due to aforementioned evilbadwrongness, she was going to forget all about the smoky leather scent that had filled her nostrils when she’d buried her face in the hollow of his throat. She was going to forget about the firmness of his hand gripped in hers as they faced down demons together. And she was definitely going to forget all about lips of Spike – which weren’t nearly as bad as she’d made them out to be in front of her friends – kissing her, sucking her lower lip into his mouth – oh, pouty, gonna get it – running his tongue over hers… God, the things he could do with his tongue…

No! Bad brain! Buffy scolded herself. Just put Spike completely out of your mind.

Easy. No problem. She used to go whole days without thinking about Spike.

Riley, on the other hand, would be harder to avoid, if she ever wanted to go to psychology class again. For most of the hour, she kept her eyes focused on the doodles in her notebook, trying not to make eye contact with Riley as Professor Walsh lectured about communication.

Buffy snapped to attention when she heard the professor call her name, beckoning her to the front for “a demonstration.” Hesitantly, Buffy made her way to the front of the classroom and, as instructed, hopped up on the table and carefully laid down, resting on her elbows.

“Riley,” Professor Walsh directed. “Bring in Hostile Seventeen.”

Riley disappeared for a moment, and when he returned, he was pushing Spike in front of him, sans leather duster. He held Spike’s arms behind his back as though he were still a prisoner, but let him go when they reached the table. Riley backed away, and Spike leaned over Buffy, putting a hand on her waist and sliding his other arm behind her back.

“Spike, what are you doing here?” Buffy asked softly, forgetting her earlier determination and finding herself mesmerized by his earnest blue eyes.

“Don’t worry, love,” Spike reassured her, running a hand through her hair. “If I kiss you, it’ll make the sun go down.”

As the class watched, he kissed her, softer and more tenderly than the outrageous smacking that had characterized most of the kisses during their brief engagement. She felt his tongue gently press against her lips, begging entrance. Sliding her arms around his waist, she drew him closer as the kiss deepened. He tasted tangy and sweet under her tongue. Buffy pulled at Spike’s t-shirt, untucking it from his jeans, and he let out a slight hiss as her hands grazed across his bare skin. One hand slid up to brush a thumb across her nipple, and she arched into his touch.

“See?” Spike whispered against her lips, pulling away enough to gesture with his head toward the ceiling. It was only then that Buffy realized the lights in the classroom had dimmed and gone out. Spike let go of her and she sat up, noticing that the class was gone, leaving them alone in the room.

“Fortune favors the brave,” Buffy murmured, and she tilted her face up as though she might continue the kiss, but she was distracted by a faint humming sound coming from outside the classroom. “Do you hear that?”

Getting up off the table, Buffy walked toward the sound, peering through the shadows. As she listened, the humming resolved itself into words, an eerie song that sent chills down her spine:

“Can’t even shout
Can’t even cry
The gentlemen are coming by
Looking in windows
Knocking on doors
They need to take seven
And they might take yours
Can’t call to Mom
Can’t say a word
You’re gonna die screaming
But you won’t be heard”

Out in the darkened hallway, Buffy spotted the source of the chanting, a little blonde girl in a red dress, holding an ornate wooden box. Coming up behind her, Spike touched Buffy’s shoulder, but when she turned around, instead of Spike she saw a figure with a horrific grin on his corpse-like face.

She gasped, startling herself awake, and realized that she’d dozed off in class. It appeared that she’d slept through the entire period, since everyone was packing up their books and leaving while Professor Walsh announced something about a review session.

“Man, that was an exciting class, huh?” Willow said as she gathered up her stuff.

“Oh, yeah, well…” Buffy fumbled for words, trying to cover up the fact that she hadn’t been paying attention.

“And the last twenty minutes was a revelation! Just laid out everything we need to know for the final. I’d hate to have missed that,” Willow teased her with a knowing grin.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Just tell me I didn’t snore.”

“Very discreet, minimal drool.”

“Listen, Will, this is serious,” Buffy said, grabbing her by the arm as they headed out of the classroom. “You know that forgetting spell you were gonna do?”

“Yeah, I just need to do a little research, probably get some ingredients.”

“Can we get on that, like, ASAP?” Buffy asked, her desperation evident.

Willow gave her a sympathetic frown. “Aww, are you having post-traumatic Spike issues?”

“Majorly.” Buffy lowered her voice, pulling Willow to the side of the hallway. “I just had a dream about him.”

“Ooh, what kind of dream?” Willow asked, perking up, hoping for some juicy details.

“Parts of it seemed kind of slayery, but there was definite, um, kissage.” Buffy cringed as she said the last word.

Willow’s eyes widened. “Spike kissage?”

“Spell. Soon. Please.” With that, Buffy rushed off, possibly to wash her brain out with soap – only to run headfirst into the one person she’d been trying to avoid.

“Where’re you off to in such a hurry?” Riley asked in a teasing tone. “Seemed like you were enjoying class. You looked very… peaceful.”

“Oh, I, uh…” Buffy felt her face flush with heat. “Look, I’m sorry, you know, about the whole sleeping thing. I’ll get the notes from Will.” She whipped her head around to glance at Willow, who nodded supportively. “I just… didn’t get much sleep last night, you know?”

“Yeah?” Riley fell into step with the girls as they headed out of the building. “What were you up to?”

“Oh, just patr- ah, uh, partying,” Buffy quickly corrected herself. “You know… wild and crazy freshman thing.”

“Right.” Riley looked at her with concern. “Listen, Buffy, just some friendly advice. You really ought to cut back on this kind of behavior. It’s not good for you, and it can really mess things up if you let it get in the way of your studying.”

“Yeah,” Buffy replied dryly, thinking of how far Riley’s assumptions were from the truth. “Thanks for the advice, but uh, I gotta run. Will?” She turned, expecting her best friend to follow, but she shook her head and gestured in the opposite direction.

“Wicca group,” Willow reminded her.

“Right,” Buffy said. “See you back at the room then.” With that, she beat a hasty retreat, leaving Riley to walk Willow to the campus center and talk psychology with someone who might have actually paid attention in lecture.