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Cupid is stupid...and a little drunk by behind blue eyes
 
Chapter Three
 
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The following night Buffy stood outside the Magic Box, waiting for another bout of “It never happened…it never happened…” to make its rounds. Ever since leaving Spike’s crypt, she’d adopted this silent mantra whenever her mind detoured from the everyday to naughty and forbidden territory.

With wayward thoughts finally on lockdown, at least for the moment, she headed inside. Xander, Tara and Willow sat around a book-strewed table, while Anya and Giles stood at the sales counter closing out for the evening.

“Well, lookie who came out of her chocolate coma.” Xander pushed aside the book he was pretending to read.

“Hey guys.” Buffy made her way over to the group.

“Whatcha been up to? Kinda missed you yesterday.” Willow marked her place and looked up at Buffy expectantly.

Once more Buffy thanked whatever deity for the benefits of having both Revello Drive and her dorm room to call home. Especially, like now, when keeping last night’s true whereabouts from her mom and Scoobies.

“Oh, you know, just celebrating the usual way.” Buffy tried not to blush as another round made its trek.

It never happened…

“Does it involve edible undergarments and flavored lube?” Not deterring from task, Anya tallied the till.

Giles shook his head, glasses and handkerchief already in hand. Xander’s forehead hit the table with a thunk.

“No.”— Again, Buffy tried not to blush—“Just Ben and Jerry’s and chick flicks. But hey, thanks for the heads up whose place I’ll never go to on V Day.”—Buffy sat down at the table, eyeing the dozen-or-so titles—“So, I take it by the many book stackage we’re researching more on Ms-Ogilvie-bad-hell-perm?”

“Actually, it’s another god.” Willow beamed, appearing excited about this new project.

“What? Did Hell Bitch send out a nine-one-one for backup?” Buffy stood, knocking back her chair.

Giles noticed her panicking and rounded the counter to intervene.

“No, quite the contrary, Buffy. It appears the god Eros made his presence well known in Sunnydale.” Giles thumbed through one of the smaller books and handed Buffy his findings.

Buffy eyed the sketched drawing of a nude man holding a bow and arrow.

“This is Eros? So some naked guy was running around playing Robin Hood and wasn’t arrested? Go Sunnydale PD.”

“Actually, the form Eros, or more commonly known as Cupid, takes on Earth is of a winged cherub. Most often he stays quite hidden and is far more discreet.” Giles nodded and opened another book.

“Until last night, I take it. So what did the mac daddy of love do?” Buffy picked up her chair and sat back down.

“What I’ve gathered from several sources, including an underpaid barkeep, Eros was highly intoxicated and took far more liberties with his duties than usual. In turn, for the duration of Valentine’s Day those affected reacted, well, out of sorts.”

“Yeah, huh?” Buffy looked around the table for translation.

“Let me sum up Giles’ long-winded Britishness—” Xander stood and swiveled his hips.

“Had the uncontrollable urge to hula hoop?” Buffy snickered.

“More like the uncontrollable urge of dancing with no pantsing.” Willow leaned closer to Buffy and clarified.

“Oh! Oh. Ohhh—”—with each ‘oh’ realization set it—“Oh my god. It happened. It. Happened.” Buffy shook her head, slamming the book shut.

“What happened?” Willow looked to Buffy questioningly. “This. All of this. That’s what happened. Some idiot does a spell and stuff happened.”— Buffy realized too late she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. Instead of trying to explain or waiting for the Scoobies’ Inquisition, she made a hasty exit—“I’m going to train then head out on patrol.”

Buffy shut the door, closing out prying eyes and questioning looks. With a steadying breath, she turned and almost walked directly into Spike.

“Geez! Lurk much?” Buffy startled, her hand automatically went for her stake.

“Vampire. Lurkin’s part of the whole creature-of-the-night gig.” Spike shrugged.

“I guess you heard.” Buffy relaxed, her hand dropped from her waistband.

“Yeah, Cupid had a chubby little hand in what we both knew was undeniably going to happen. Lucky ‘im.” Spike leaned in for a kiss. Buffy pushed past him and walked to the center of the room.

“You’re delusional. This only happened because of the spell.” Buffy tried schooling her features to show a certainty she wasn’t quite feeling.

“Really? Be right tidy, wouldn’t it? Explaining this all away with a spell. S’not how it works, Slayer.” Spike followed, nostrils flared and teeth clenched.

“Not how what works? Don’t you get it, Spike? It doesn’t matter that Cupid is stupid and a little drunk. All that matters is yet again, someone was pulling our strings and took away our control.”

“You’re right. We were out of control, but that’s how passion works. No holding back. Yeah, Cupid put the whammy on us, good and proper. But tell me somethin’, Buffy? With all those arrows flying ‘bout, why were we only drawn to one another? And what’s more, why, even now after the spell’s broken, you still want me as much as I want you.” At first, Spike’s words were rash and angry. Yet by the end they took on a sotto quality, deep and evocative.

“We are so good together, you and I. In all my years, ‘ve never felt this way before, and I know, neither have you.” Spike tenderly cupped her cheek and leaned in for a kiss.

Buffy’s eyelids fluttered, her heart pounding with anticipation. Yet there was a small part of her not giving in. With a final push she fought against the allure threatening to swallow her whole.

“It wasn’t real, Spike.” Her words, though lacking conviction, still stung.

“No? So is it working, Buffy? You keep telling yourself this wasn’t real and your conscience is all shiny and clear?”—Spike stepped away, leaving both of them feeling bereft—“No matter, it doesn’t change what happened. And what will again, when you’re finally ready to admit the truth. Till then—”

Spike turned away and headed to the back door, only stilling when Buffy called out.

“Spike.”

He turned back and watched her approach, trepidation and uncertainty coming off her in waves.

“None of this makes any sense.” Buffy wrapped her arms around herself.

“Love rarely does.” Spike stepped closer, but still gave her the space she clearly needed.

“Is that what this is? Love?” Buffy spoke softly, even he strained to hear.

“Maybe not in the traditional sense, but for me, yeah. I know in the past there’ve been those telling you the same, only to walk away when things got rough. Selfish bastards the lot of them. But ‘m not them, and ‘m not goin’ anywhere. And I’d never take loving you lightly. Yeah, it will be hard, and at times, downright maddening. But you’re worth every moment.”—Spike stepped closer—“I know you don’t love me, Buffy. Yet ‘m hoping, one day, you’ll let me prove to you how amazing we can be together.”

Though patience was certainly not his strong suit, he’d wait for her to make the first move. For however long it took. When this finally happened, it’d be on both their terms. No spells. No pressure. No holding back.

“I do feel something for you.”—His growing grin almost triggered hers but she curbed the urge —“But it’s not love, Spike. I guess it’s, well, don’t hate?” Buffy placed her palms on Spike’s chest and he drew her into his arms. “ ’ll take don’t hate. For now.” This time when their mouths met, the world they knew changed forever.


Viva la Spuffy!
 
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