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February

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Buffy looked up when Willow came into the living room of Giles’ house.

“Hey, you’re back,” the Slayer said.

“Yeah, after a painful week,” Willow sighed, sinking down on the window seat where Buffy was sitting.

“Why, what happened?”

“Oh, nothing,” Willow muttered. “Jenna was there. It was weird.”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping you’d ‘ve moved past all that.”

“She’ll never change,” Willow said. “It’s just so frustrating. And then there’s the tension and the not knowing what to say and the awkward silence.” She shuddered. “And of course she can’t help trying to show off for Cyndra.”

“But Cyndra’s not the kind to care.”

“And she doesn’t. She doesn’t see it as a contest. Magic’s something personal, that comes from in here,” Willow stated, shoving a finger in her own chest as underlining. “But Jenna...”

She trialed off, scratching her hand in annoyance and seemingly wanting to leave it at that.

Buffy eyed her in silence, then came to a decision and said:

“I met Spike.”

Willow’s gaze was in hers the next second, incredulous.

“When?”

“Remember that trip to Malta?”

“Malta?! That’s... almost three months ago. You met him then?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you guys to finally... Wait, what was he doing in Malta?”

“Actually I never got around to asking.”

“So you just ran into him?”

“No. I was sitting, so technically he ran into me. Walked-ran?”

Willow stared at her.

“What happened? Did you talk?”

“Yes.”

“How’d you feel?”

“What do you mean how did I feel?”

“You’ve been avoiding the vamp for half a decade; you must have some sort of feelings about this meeting!”

Buffy knew it was pointless trying to say there had been no avoiding of the vampire. She simply made a face of innocent hesitation before she said:

“We had a few drinks, a few laughs, a dance and ended up in bed. All very simple. All very us. Isn’t it very us?”

“So you’re an ‘us’ now?”

Buffy’s mouth almost fell open, but before the protest could be voiced Willow held up her hands and stopped it. She was quiet for a few very long moments, taking this information in and observing Buffy’s face.

“Have you talked with him since then?”

“Yes. He was in New York.”

“He was in New York.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I haven’t already said it!”

Willow smiled a little.

“I’m not judging here.”

Buffy sunk back against the window frame, looking outside, gathering her thoughts.

“I know,” she mumbled.

“And in New York?”

“Yeah, in New York,” Buffy pretty much confirmed the insinuation.

“Does Xander know?” Buffy merely gave her a look and Willow smirked. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

“No!” Buffy smiled. “No, it’s not like that. For him either. It’s just... being with him...”

“Having sex with him, let’s call the kettle black.”

“Fine, then. He’s good, Will. You can’t even... It’s like he finds new ways of touching me. God, I get weak all over just thinking about it. It’s not funny!” Willow held down the smile. “He goes through me,” Buffy mumbled, her gaze drifting to the view outside the window again, her fingertips gracing her lips.

“But you haven’t spoken to him since New York?”

“No.”

Willow furrowed her brow, smoothing it when Buffy glanced at her.

“They’re coming on Saturday,” the Slayer said. “He and Angel and Isabel.”

“Coming here?”

¤

“Hi!”

“I officially hate flying!”

“Heathrow was a bloody mess!”

“We’re happy you’re here.”

“It’s so good to see you!”

Buffy embraced Isabel, who had been sporting a rather large rock on her left ring finger for nearly a year now. Then she hugged Angel hard. She had hoped there would be no silence of anticipation as she faced Spike, but of course the tumult of fond greetings was interrupted when she turned to him.

“Hi,” she said.

It occurred to her that he might have told Angel about the fact that he had met her before, but then she discarded that thought. She knew Angel would have called and asked her about it.

“Hi,” Spike replied, smiling a little.

The tension lifted, and Giles turned to Isabel and Angel while Willow began helping with the suitcases.

¤

“And so I said to him, that’s not what this is about. You know what he said to me?” Angel asked.

Everybody shook their heads.

“He said: Damn right, it’s about whooping your ass into shape.” Everybody laughed. He smiled as well. “I had to agree,” he shrugged, Isabel giving him a kiss.

Buffy chewed on a baby carrot, left over on her plate from dinner, listening halfheartedly to something Willow said to Giles as her eyes met Spike’s. She smiled a small smile, and he mirrored it.

“What do you say we move this into the sitting room?” Giles asked.

They all rose, bringing their coffee into the adjoining room and spreading out on comfortable couches and in armchairs. Buffy sat in one of the latter, placing her legs on the small stool in front of it. Spike had a seat in one of the couches, raising his cup to her and she kept the smile down, raising hers to him as well, bringing it to her lips and sipping the liquid as her eyes turned to Giles.

¤

“Here’s the last of it,” Willow said, putting a few dishes down on the counter in the kitchen, where Buffy was filling up the dishwasher.

“Thanks, Will,” she said. “You head up to bed; I’ll take care of this.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go on.”

“Thanks,” Willow said, kissing her on the cheek. “Good night.”

“Night.”

She turned on the faucet and started rinsing the plates.

“Want some help?”

She jerked, turning her head to him with a reproachful look.

“Jeez, stealth much?!” He just smiled. “I thought you went to bed.”

She turned back to what her hands were doing, then bent down and put the plate in the dishwasher. Grabbing the next in line she let the water slide over it.

“I heard Willow come up,” he murmured in her ear and she closed her eyes as she felt her shoulder blades connect with his chest. “Meant you were left behind,” he added, one of his hands sliding under her top.

“I volunteered,” she mumbled, blindly putting the plate down in the sink as his fingers reached her left breast.

“Convenient,” he said, his lips caressing her neck and she drew a shivering breath as his free hand moved down her stomach, snaking its way into her pants.

She arched her back, resting her head on his shoulder. She placed her hands where his were, clenching her jaws together to keep from making a sound. She shuddered as the orgasm exploded its way into her. Her body relaxed gradually and he moved his hands, placing them on her hips, waiting. She slowly turned around to look up at him.

“Kiss me,” she said and his mouth was hers to claim in an instant.

The kiss was hard and raw and everything she had longed for, for nearly four weeks.

He lifted her and she wrapped her legs tight around his waist as he placed her on the counter, the dishes clanking ominously as they were shifted. His hands were pushing her tightly against him, his tongue persuasive and beckoning. But then a flash of sanity came into her head, and it was bright enough to wake her out of the stupor she was in, drinking him up in the way she was.

“We can’t,” she gasped, beginning to squirm away. “We can’t.” She made him stop, made him meet her gaze. “I can’t. Not here,” she said.

He looked at her, then closed his eyes with a moan, sliding her off the counter to stand on both feet before him. She smiled as he once more looked at her. He smiled back. She stood on her toes, kissing him softly.

“Good night,” she whispered.

He pulled her into an embrace, kissing her deeply.

“Good night,” he said as he let her go.

“Devil,” she grumbled and he smiled again, turning and leaving.

¤

“It’s raining,” he muttered the following evening.

She took a seat next to him on the stairs.

“Yup.”

“Has it been raining all day?”

“On and off. You sleep well?”

“Once I got to sleep,” he smirked and she nudged him with one arm. “What do you do on a rainy day?”

She rested her eyes in his, then smirked.

¤

“Harder!” she exclaimed, bringing her arm down. It had just blocked his punch and she raised her eyebrows. “Has it really been long enough for you to forget how much I can take?”

He smiled.

“Warm-up, sweetheart. Don’t want you to strain anything.”

She kicked up a leg, hitting him square in the chest and sending him straight into a wall. Giles’ basement was handy for so many things. She smiled sweetly.

“You should know I don’t strain easily.”

He moved forward, and she managed to block two of his punches, but missed the last one and it sent her stumbling to the side. She brought one leg up, but he ducked, grabbed her by the waist and the ankle, which was still hovering mid-air, spun her around and slammed her against the wall he had beautified a minute earlier.

In the next instant he pressed himself against her and she drew a breath as he pinned her arms above her head, the tip of his nose touching hers. She smiled again.

“New moves,” she mumbled. “Watch this.”

She jumped up, bringing her knees between them and making him take an involuntary step backwards right before she unfolded her legs, her feet against his chest, and then she pushed away from the wall, making him lose his balance completely while she flew through the air, doing a somersault and landing gracefully with either foot on either side of him.

Leaning down and splaying one hand on his chest she cocked an eyebrow.

“Impressed?”

“Impressed,” he confirmed.

Before she could react he grabbed the wrist of the hand on his chest, moving her arm to the side while he sat up, putting his other hand by the side of her neck and pushing her to fall to the side, pinning her down with an arm placed across her throat while he situated himself between her legs.

She tried to get loose, but the pressure across her throat grew slightly heavier and she stopped moving, having to smile in spite of her position.

“Is this how we fought?”

“In my head it was,” he smirked.

She wrapped her legs around him and braced herself before mustering all her strength. The following moment they rolled over so he was on his back and she straddled him, having him bring his arms over his head as she linked their fingers together.

“And now what’s in your head?” she asked.

He sat up, his lips brushing hers just as the door opened to their left.

“What’s going on down here?!” Angel asked as he came down the stairs.

The Slayer had already risen; the Vamp not far behind.

“Sparring,” they replied at the same time.

“Sounds like you’re rearranging the foundation,” he said, looking from one to the other. “Isabel wanted to take a walk. She wondered if you felt like coming.”

“It’s raining,” Spike said.

“Yes,” Angel muttered, but added: “One of England’s charms. Haven’t you read Henry James?”

Spike raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll come,” Buffy said. “And if we ask nicely, I’m sure Spike will too.”

“You do it,” Angel said. “He never listens to me.”

“That’s not true,” Spike protested. “Remember that time...”

“I remember that time, and you wouldn’t have listened to me that time if you hadn’t been hanging over the edge of a cliff,” Angel interrupted.

With that he walked back up the stairs. Buffy smiled, and with a look at Spike she followed.

¤

“Explain this to me,” Angel said twenty minutes later as they slowly walked down the soaked dirt road toward the peaceful town which lay closest to Giles’ house.

The rain pattered lazily on the umbrellas they had brought, and the night was dark and cold. But the air was refreshing and there was no regret that they had chosen to head out.

“Explain what?” she asked.

“You go... six years not talking to each other, and the first thing you choose to do is hit and kick?”

She smirked.

“We have a complicated relationship,” she answered. “Always did. Probably always will. Like you and me.”

He smiled at that.

“It’s not so complicated,” he said.

“I guess not,” she complied, looking at Spike’s back where he was walking, a little ahead of them, with Isabel.

“Seriously now,” Angel said and she met his gaze.

“Where should we pick up from, if not from where we left off?”

He smiled his agreement to that comment.

¤

“Can I come to your room later? I wanna come to your room, can I?” Spike whispered.

She smiled, glancing at him as he walked close behind her into the living room. She was carrying a tray with cheese and crackers and placed it on the table before the gathered friends.

“Au bientot,” she said.

“Bon appétit,” Willow corrected helpfully.

“Oh. What’d I say?”

“See you later,” Angel replied in Willow’s stead and Buffy raised her eyebrows, then sunk down on the couch in defeat.

“I give up.”

“You gave up on French in high school, Buffy,” Willow remarked.

“Hey,” she said. “I tried.”

“Yes, you did,” Willow agreed.

“You know what I wish I wouldn’t have had to give up?”

“What?”

“My poetry class. Remember the Victorian poetry we used to read?”

“Oh, yeah. I remember.”

“As luck will have it, though...” Buffy smiled, turning her head to Spike, who swallowed the tea he was drinking and raised his eyebrows. “Come on; give us a little sample of young William’s artistic endeavors.”

“Yes, please, do!” Isabel smiled.

“No bloody way.”

“Go on,” Giles encouraged.

“Pleeease,” Buffy begged, giving her his most wide-eyed puppy impression.

He hesitated.

“Alright, alright,” he finally relented, getting to his feet and standing in front of the fireplace, looking from one to the other before clearing his throat. “Here goes. The day is rainy, so is the night,” he began, good-natured laugh breaking from the gathered. “The alarm clock this morning sure gave me a fright. Because I don’t have one,” he added the last matter-of-factly and more laughs were heard. “You search in the darkness; you search in the light... for something that changes the wrong into right...”

His gaze fastened in Buffy’s and she felt her heart beat slow peculiarly in her chest as he grew quiet. The moment stretched, and then he blinked, shaking himself out of wherever his mind had drifted.

“And so, in the wake of a hard days fight,” he said, slowly beginning to approach her and she noticed the mischievous glint in his blue eyes as he stopped before her, going down on one knee he then brought one of her hands to his lips as he said: “you turn to the things of the most obvious delight.”

Placing a kiss on the back of her fingers he let her hand go and rose. She didn’t want to smile too wide, but, though her eyes were reproachful, they glittered with humor and he mirrored her expression.

“That has to be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said as he sat down.

“What did you expect?! That a hundred years would’ve improved my technique?” he asked and she had an overwhelming sensation of his hands exploring her with a knowledge that surely was paranormal.

“Something like it,” she merely replied to his query, and he smirked.

Her smile broadened at the sight of it, and she took her eyes out of his.

¤

“Well, I’m going beddy-by,” Willow stated an hour later.

“I second that,” Buffy yawned, rising and stretching, looking around at the others she caught Spike’s gaze for a moment before casually asking the room: “You coming?”

“Right behind you,” Isabel assured.

Spike smiled a little, his nod being something she was sure only she could have possibly detected. Giles began to blow out the candles which had been lit around the room, while Buffy helped Willow reload the tray, the Wicca assuring her she would take care of the dishes in the morning. Buffy smiled her thanks and headed for the door just as she heard Angel say:

“Spike, we need to discuss the trip to the Philippines.”

“Now?” Spike asked.

“Yes, right now. What, you’ve got something better to do?”

Spike cocked an eyebrow, his gaze going to Buffy as Angel began to search through the notes he had gotten from its current residence on the room’s large desk. She smiled, raising her shoulders in a shrug and he looked regretful, but then returned the smile. She came back into the room, kissing Angel on the cheek.

“Good night,” she said.

“Night,” he agreed distractedly.

She placed a hand on Spike’s arm as she walked passed him.

“Good night,” she repeated.

“Good night,” he muttered.

¤

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” Willow said as she watched Angel load their suitcases into Giles’ car the next evening. “Feels like you just got here.”

“We did,” Isabel replied with a friendly glare at her husband. “You know how it is, evil doesn’t sleep and the good-doers of the world have to strap on the gear of ass-kicking.”

Willow smiled, hugging her.

“Yes, Los Angeles needs you,” she agreed, Isabel laughing.

“We’ll see each other soon,” Spike said and Willow observed him for a moment, another smile forming on her mouth before she hugged him as well.

“I’m sure we will,” she agreed.

Buffy watched the scene from the open front door; then walked forward, joining them outside the gate of Giles’ garden. She hugged Angel and Isabel, feeling weird about how weird she felt about them leaving. About Spike leaving. For the first time there was a pang there, a subtle objection at the thought of not seeing him as easily as she had for the past two days. And the fact that she had barely even kissed him all weekend, except for that one time, was a gnawing irritation in the middle of her throat.

She supposed that was where the objection stemmed from.

“Got everything?” she asked, turning to him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his face suddenly growing thoughtful. “No,” he said. “I think I forgot the charger for my cell. Be right back.”

“I think it’s in the den!” Buffy called after him.

“No, I had it in my room!” he called back, disappearing inside just as Giles exited.

“I know I saw it in the den,” Buffy addressed the small group, smiling and shaking her head as she walked in the footsteps of the vampire.

She entered the house, proceeding to the stairs just as a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her with its owner through the archway of the den. She wrapped her arms around his neck and met the deepening kiss as he held her to him. She smiled, pulling back and looking at him. Then she giggled.

“I love how your mind works,” she mumbled and he smiled before joining their lips again.

“Spike?” Isabel called, obviously from the front door, and Buffy met Spike’s gaze once more.

“I found it!” he answered, kissing Buffy briefly before stepping back.

“Good. Let’s go!”

“Coming,” he said, eyes not leaving Buffy’s and she smiled once again as he stepped into her for a second time, the kiss feverish with the goodbye they had yet to say.

She smiled widely as he kissed her once more, quickly, before walking out of the den. She leaned back against the bookcase behind her. When she heard the car doors slam shut she got herself moving to the front door, where Willow came to meet her. The car pulled away from the gate and soon it was out of sight.

“You okay?” Willow asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Buffy asked back.

“You’re face is all scrunched up.”

“It’s not scrunched up,” Buffy murmured, turning from her and walking inside.