A/N: Hey guys! Thanks so much for all the reviews! You make me such a happy woman, I can't even describe it! I luuuurve reading what you think, that's the best thing in the whole wide world. Yes, yes, apart from a chocolate covered Spike just waiting to be licked. Wow, I'm in kind of a kinky state tonight, perhaps I should sit down and write. ;)

Alright, I'm more than loving the fact that you all seem to be liking the story and, well, here's som more of it. Thirteen chapters all in all (redwulf, so you know). ;) Thanks again!

All My Love - Annie.

¤

June

¤

Her eyes were fastened on the phone.

“That’s not going to make it ring,” Dawn said. “I speak from personal experience.”

Buffy smiled weakly.

“I’ll take my chances,” she said.

“He said he’d call, he’ll call. Spike’s good that way, never says anything he doesn’t mean, you know?”

Buffy ignored her. She loved her baby sister, but this whole I-know-him-better-than-you gig was getting old.

“Did you hear what name they finally decided on?” Dawn asked, taking a mouthful of water from a bottle as she waited for Buffy’s reply.

“Hmh?” she merely said.

“Xander and Jackie. The name they chose for their darling baby?”

“Um. Yeah.”

Dawn raised her eyebrows.

“Really?” she asked skeptically. “Then what was it?”

“Dawn.”

“Jessica,” Dawn shook her head.

“What’s wrong with Jessica?”

“Nothing, it’s a perfectly nice name. But I was thinking they might go with something a bit more... razzle dazzle.”

“Maybe they’re not trying to razzle dazzle her,” Buffy smirked.

“Cute,” Dawn muttered. “Jessica.”

“Jessie,” Buffy shrugged. “It’s pretty.”

“Yeah. Alright, I’m leaving,” Dawn said. “I’ll be back around eight. You should get out. Enjoy Paris. You haven’t even seen the Mona Lisa yet! For an old lady she’s a lot more interesting than that,” she added with a nod to the phone before heading out the door.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

A shrill ring went straight through her the very moment after the front door had closed and she grabbed the receiver.

“Hi?”

“Hi,” Spike said and she felt something tight loosen inside her.

“We have to stop meeting this way,” she smiled.

“Yes, there are too many better ways,” he agreed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She closed her eyes, her heart beat elevating curiously.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” she mumbled.

“When can I see you?”

“I’m at Dawn’s.”

“I figured.”

She smiled.

“Right. You don’t have any errand to run by the Eiffel tower?”

“All out of those,” he replied. “You don’t have any near the Golden Gate Bridge?”

“San Francisco?”

“I’m going there next weekend.”

“Why?”

“A nest of Jehs.”

“Need backup?”

“Wouldn’t hurt.”

“You sure?”

“Guess that depends entirely on what bloody mood you’re in.”

¤

“Buffy!” Spike yelled; throwing her a sword before ducking to escape the axe swung at his head.

She caught the sword, twirled around and chopped the charging demon in two. It turned into wet goo and she made a face before looking at her weapon, which was very slimy.

“Gross.”

Spike hit the demon he was fighting in the stomach, and then on the chin, before placing a well-aimed kick to the hand holding the axe, making the heavy weapon fly up in the air. He caught it, swung it down hard and made his antagonist go goo as well.

He let the axe drop to the floor, facing Buffy, who put her sword down on a table standing near by.

They were in a dusty and dark old apartment, place of the now terminated nest.

She began walking toward him, every step gaining in purpose until she was pressed against him, her fingers gripping the lapels of his duster as his hands grabbed her ass and spun her around, pushing her up against a conveniently located wall.

“You were always so good at reading my mood,” she murmured, her tongue slipping into his mouth and he groaned, kissing her back feverishly. “Let’s make another building fall down,” she said and he smirked, meeting her eyes before joining their lips again.

¤

“Hmh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Just...it’s still all... standing.”

“I fell,” he mumbled, burying his nose against the side of her throat. “If it helps.”

Her hand stroked his cheek, a smile on her mouth.

“It does,” she admonished. “You know, lying on a floor with you sure brings me back.”

He laughed.

“We have a warm hotel room waiting.”

“When do you have to be back in Los Angeles?”

“Tomorrow evening.”

“Tomorrow?”

He brought his head up to look at her.

“This trip is just a favor.”

“To me?” she smirked. “You’re good, mister, but you’re not that good.”

“Careful,” he warned, but smiled as well. “A favor for a friend,” he clarified. “This nest has caused him all kinds of sodding problems, so I said I’d clear it out.”

“There you go being all noble again.”

“Soul side-effect,” he said, making her smile once more.

“I like the side-effects.”

“You do, eh?” he asked, pushing himself up, kissing her gently.

“I do,” she said, meeting the second kiss he granted her. “And the old parts.”

“Old?”

She smiled as he slowly entered her, her fingers grabbing his shoulders tightly.

“You know what I mean,” she breathed.

¤

“Stay one more night,” she said.

They had gotten themselves presentable and to Spike’s hotel room, where they had spent the past six hours in a state of undressed bliss.

“And what do I tell Angel?” Spike asked.

She smiled.

“Are we going to define this now?”

He smirked.

“A torrid, world-wide affair.”

She giggled.

“Torrid it is.”

He smiled, meeting her gaze as she propped her head up in one hand.

“Why shouldn’t we tell them?” she wondered.

“Them?”

“Everybody.” He stared at her. “What?”

“Seriously? What the bloody hell would we tell them?”

She laughed at his expression and soon he had to join in.

“I’m sorry,” she said, unable to stop. “You’re just so cute when you’re shocked.”

He smirked.

“I’ll show you cute,” he murmured, rolling her over on her back and fitting himself between her legs, burying his hands in her soft locks before kissing her deeply.

She eased her eyes open after he had pulled back, looking at him for a long time in silence.

“Stay one more night,” she said.

“One more night,” he consented.

¤

It had turned into two.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror before her. It hung next to the window in the guestroom she used at Giles’ house. She had left San Francisco four days ago and was back in England for a few weeks, wanting it to be longer, but one of the slayer branches in Chile wished her to come and visit. She had always wanted to go to Chile.

She leaned forward. Her reflection did the same. She had spent over half an hour in front of it, wondering in the back of her head if she was actually about to crack. Have a meltdown. She had been trying to make sense of what was going on inside her.

She missed him. In a churning, sickening way. It was longing mixed with lust mixed with a craving to be close to him, to know him.

To know him.

This can’t be right, she thought to herself. I can’t still be in love with him.

She met her own eyes and drew a small, shivering breath.

“I’m in love with him,” she whispered.