Disclaimer: Yes, I own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It made me rich. That's why I have to take out loans and work my way through college… (In case you couldn't tell, that was extreme sarcasm.) Also, "I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend" is The Ramones. You should listen to it. And everything else they've done, 'cause they rock.  If I was sitting next to Spike in a car, and he started singing "I Wanna Be Sedated," I totally would jump him. And not in the "punching him in the nose" way. Silly Buffy…

Rating: NC-17 (Blame it on Spike. I never wrote smut until I started writing him. He makes me. Damn sexy vampire…)

Summary: After Buffy's day from hell thanks to the Geek Trio, Willow decides to "help" by making Buffy forget she ever died. And—big surprise here—this goes terribly, terribly wrong. (Less angsty alternative to season 6; goes off canon following "Life Serial.")

Spoilers: Everything up to "Life Serial" in season 6. If you haven't seen any of that and wish to before you read this, it's all on DVD. Go, rent. I command thee.

Author's Note: This is my attempt at something somewhat fluffy. I can't promise it will be angst-free because, well, that never works for me. I try to write something without angst, and it turns into a major angst-fest. It's compulsive, I swear. But I'm really going to try for a minimal on the angst with this one, so wish me luck. *wink*

And although this takes place afterwards and really has nothing to do with it, I just want to say that I absolutely loved the "mummy hand" part in "Life Serial." I think it's because I work in retail. I swear, that sort of stuff happens to me without time loops…

Feedback and Archiving: Feedback is my god. Send it to me so I may worship at its altar. I'm also a big fan of archiving, just please let me know where. I'm obsessive compulsive when it comes to knowing where all my fics are. Unless you're adding my story to a list of authors you want to die or something like that, I'll say yes, I just want to know first. Thanks! Email: addie_logan@yahoo.com

Shameless Website Plug: I have a website. It has more stories. Go there. https://www.angelfire.com/scifi/addielogan

 

Just a Teenage Crush…

By: Addie Logan

*** *** ***

Hey, little girl
I wanna be your boyfriend
Sweet little girl
I wanna be your boyfriend
Do you love me babe?
What do you say?
Do you love me babe?
What can I say?
Because I wanna be your boyfriend…

*** *** ***

A little voice in her back of mind that she would later deem the "voice of reason" told Willow she shouldn't be doing this. After all, she'd had problems with these sorts of spells in the past—Buffy and Spike's "engagement" a few years prior springing to mind.

But this was different, the other part of her mind assured her. She was doing this for a good reason. It was her fault that Buffy was unhappy now, that she couldn't seem to settle back into her old life. Willow knew she really should have accounted for the shock Buffy would feel once they pulled her out of whatever hell dimension she had wound up in. After all, Angel had been nearly feral when he had come back from one. So really, Willow convinced herself, she wasn't playing around with magic too much the way Tara and Giles kept trying to tell her she was. She was merely putting the finishing touches on resurrecting Buffy—something she should've done at the very beginning.

And as for resurrecting Buffy in the first place, well, how could getting your friend out a hell dimension be a bad thing?

No, Willow decided, there was nothing wrong with what she was doing now. Nothing at all.

Which was why, of course, she was doing it alone in the Magic Box, late at night after Giles and Anya were both long gone. And why she'd told Tara that she'd gone to the campus to meet with a study group.

Yep, this was completely the right thing to do. No bad could come from it whatsoever.

Willow chanted the words of the incantation, completely unaware of the lens nestled in the eye of a skull, perched on a shelf and watching her every move…

*** *** ***

The first thing Buffy realized when she woke up was that she was lying in a bed that was decidedly not hers.

The second was that she was not alone.

Buffy looked at the man who was watching her and screamed. He looked like definite trouble, and she knew that being alone with him could not be a good thing. He had a serious bad boy look going on with his bleached hair and all-black ensemble. And to make matters worse, he had her on a bed, in a dark, creepy-looking place.

No, this was not of the good.

"Slayer, would you please give the screaming a rest?"

The man said "please," but his tone was anything but polite. And "Slayer?" Why was he talking about that horrible band? Buffy continued to scream.

"Buffy, shut up!"

Buffy did stop then. He knew her name? How did this strange man who looked nothing like the people she chose to associate with know her name? Then it all became clear.

He'd kidnapped her. Probably been stalking her for months, the sick freak. That would also explain why she was so disoriented. He had drugged her. "You won't get away with this, you know," Buffy informed her kidnapper.

"Get away with what? Letting you lie down in my bed after you collapsed instead of leaving you on the cold, hard floor? Oh yeah, bloody evil that was."

"Don't try to act like you don't know!" Buffy said, trying to mask her fear with anger. "And if I was on the floor, it was only because you drugged me."

"Drugged you? Are you completely off your bird? I was drinking from the same bottle you were, Slayer."

There was that "Slayer" again. Was he calling her Slayer? That made even less sense than random talk about metal bands. And why was he accusing her of drinking with him? She didn't even drink! Okay, maybe that once at her friend Kimberly's slumber party when they'd broken into Kimberly's parents' liquor cabinet. But she'd never gotten drunk with a strange man. "You're lying!" Buffy yelled. "You're just a bad, evil man!"

"Well, yeah. Never denied that. You know, you're acting even loopier than you did the last time you got drunk over here."

Last time? Buffy didn't remember getting drunk this time, never mind the now-mentioned "last time." And had he just admitted to being evil? That couldn't be good. "You're crazy!" Buffy frowned, the seriousness of her situation really starting to sink in. "And you're going to hurt me, aren't you?"

He sighed—a bit overdramatically, Buffy thought. "Even if I did want to hurt you, I can't—chip, remember?"

"Chip? What chip?" Had they been eating chips while they were drinking? Buffy was even more confused.

"The chip in my head, Buffy."

He spoke slowly, like she was an idiot. Buffy didn't appreciate that one bit. He was the one who was saying crazy things about having chips in his head. Why was he treating her like the loon? "I want to go home," she whimpered.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Come on, I'll walk you."

He was just going to let her go? What kind of kidnapper was he? Maybe there'd been a ransom, and she'd slept through it. "You're not going to make me stay here?"

"Yeah, like I could. Come on Slayer, on your feet."

He took her hands to pull her up, and Buffy realized that his hands were really, really cold. She noticed the complete lack of heat in the room, and decided that must be it. Were her hands icy, too? They didn't seem to be to her, but maybe she just wasn't noticing it.

Buffy followed her possible kidnapper up a ladder into another room, just as dark as the one they'd just been in. What did this guy have against a few windows? She looked around, wondering where in the world he had gotten his decorating tips. It was like bachelor pad meets dungeon.

She walked out the door and found herself in—a graveyard? Buffy's eyes grew wide. "Why did you bring me to a graveyard?" she demanded. "What sort of sick freak are you?"

"Slayer, you feelin' all right? 'Cause, well, you sound a bit like a crazy person."

"I'm crazy? You're the one who takes young girls to graveyards! Geez, what is wrong with you, you bleached freak!" The look he got on his face made Buffy wish she'd kept her mouth shut. She had the distinct feeling that he wanted to rip her head off with his bare hands.

"Fine. That's the way you want it, go home yourself. If you pass out and get eaten by some nasty, it's not my fault."

He started to go back into what Buffy had determined was actually a crypt—what kind of psychopath lived in a crypt—and Buffy felt her lip trembling. Sure, this guy had quite possibly drugged and kidnapped her, but he was still all she had. "I…I don't know how to get home," she said, tears threatening to spill.

"Are you serious?"

Buffy nodded. "Please, just don't leave me out here all alone. I'm scared."

"Bloody hell, Slayer. I'm never drinking with you again."

Buffy ran after him, struggling to keep up as they made their way through the graveyard.

*** *** ***

Spike watched the Slayer as she walked beside him. He'd never seen her look so confused before. The things she'd been saying tonight… Sure, she insulted him all the time, but this had seemed different. And to make things worse, she hadn't even seemed to know who he was. He hoped she'd been all right again once she sobered up.

Spike was relieved once they finally reached 1630 Revello Drive, never before so happy to get rid of Buffy. The schizophrenic routine she'd been on had been more than he wanted to deal with. "Well, here you are. Hope the hangover isn't too nasty in the morning."

Spike started off the porch when he heard Buffy tell him in a tiny voice, "This isn't my house."

Spike turned, looking at her with one eyebrow raised. "What?"

"This isn't my house. I…I don't even think this is L.A."

"It's not. It's Sunnydale."

"Sunnywhat? I don't live there. I live in L.A. Where did you take me?"

"Your house, Buffy. Just go inside. Dawn's waiting for you, I'm sure."

"Dawn?"

"Your sister…"

"Huh? I think you have me confused with another Buffy. I'm an only child."

"Uh, not since the monks decided to make you a sister out of green swirly energy," Spike replied, his tone half sarcastic, half nervous. He was beginning to suspect that Buffy's odd behavior went a bit beyond drunkenness.

"The what with the what? Look, you are totally insane, so why don't you just get away from me, and I'll find a phone to call a cab."

"Buffy, pet, you're home. Reach into your pocket."

"Huh?"

"Reach. Into. Your. Pocket."

"I'm not stupid, you know. You don't have to…"

"Bloody hell, woman, just pull out your soddin' key!"

Buffy frowned, reaching into her pocket. Sure enough, there was a key. She didn't recognize it. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"I thought you weren't stupid. Put it in the lock, and turn." Buffy did. The door opened. "See," Spike said triumphantly, "your house."

"You could've slipped that in there when I was unconscious. This could all be part of your evil plan!"

"Yes, my evil plan to bring you home. Go in the bloody house."

"No! Who knows what you have waiting for me in there!"

"Buffy, is that you?"

Buffy turned. Someone else knew her name? It was a conspiracy. She knew it.

"Nibblet, you better come out here," Spike called back. "Your sis has gone completely barmy."

Dawn came out on the porch. "Buffy, what's wrong?"

"Who are you?" Buffy asked, tired of being confused. "And why do you both know my name?"

Spike pointed at her. "See? Barmy."

"I'm not Barney!" Buffy insisted, starting to cry.

"I said barmy, not Barney."

"Well, I'm not that either!"

"Did some demon conk her on the head?" Dawn asked.

"Demon? You're talking about demons? What is wrong with you people? I want to go home!"

"Buffy, you are home," Dawn said, placing a hand nervously on her sister's shoulder. "Just come inside and sit down, okay?"

Buffy looked at the girl the weird blond man had called "Dawn." She didn't look any older than Buffy was. She couldn't hurt her, could she? But what if the blond guy had brainwashed Dawn? What if he went around kidnapping fifteen year olds and making them do his bidding? Buffy crossed her arms in front of her. She would not go in that house and become a victim of Stockholm Syndrome. "No."

"Bloody hell. Bit, go inside and get a picture of you with Buffy, all right?"

Dawn nodded, and disappeared back into the house. She came back a few moments later, showing Buffy a picture of the two of them, along with their mother. "See?"

"You know my mom?"

Buffy swore she saw a flash of pain in Dawn's eyes. "Yeah. We're sisters, Buffy. And look, there's you."

"That can't be me. She's too old."

Spike and Dawn shared a look over the top of Buffy's head. "Buffy, how old are you?" Dawn asked.

"Fifteen."

"Well, that explains…well, not a lot since it actually opens up a whole new set of questions," Spike said. He looked into Buffy's eyes. "Pet, you're twenty. You live in Sunnydale, California, with your sister, Dawn. I know you're confused right now, kitten, but just go inside with us, and we'll try to make everything better, okay?"

Buffy sniffled. Even if they were trying to brainwash her, she wasn't sure she cared anymore. She was tired, and she just wanted to sit down somewhere. And lack of fashion not withstanding, the blond guy was incredibly hot. Maybe there would be worse things than being his prisoner. Dawn looked happy enough… "Okay."

"That's my girl," Spike told her with a smile. "Come on."

Buffy nodded and followed Spike and Dawn into the house.

*** *** ***

Willow walked back home, trying to look inconspicuous. She hadn't just done a spell, no sir. Nope, everything was just peachy.

Besides, when everything was okay again, and Buffy forgot all about that hell dimension she'd been in, everyone would see she'd done the right thing.

"Halt, puny human!"

Willow stopped, finding herself faced with a large, red demon. He had a long, black beard, big horns, and thin, white wings. He placed his hands on his hips, giving her a menacing look.

"I'll…I'll have you know I'm a very powerful witch," Willow said in what she hoped was her most intimidating voice.

"Ha! I scoff in the face of witches!"

"Well, you won't be scoffing, mister, when I…" Willow never got to finish her sentence. Suddenly, she was coughing, a thick smog surrounding her. She felt something reach into her pocket, but it was gone before she could smack it away.

When the smoke finally cleared, the demon was gone. Willow reached into her pocket, frantic. It was, as she had feared—empty.

"And this could be bad…"

*** *** ***

"Did you get it?"

Jonathan gave Warren a look as he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around himself. "Yes, I got it. And I don't know why it's so damn important."

"Well, neither do I," Warren replied. "But the witch did something to it, which means it has to be important to the Slayer. Therefore, if we have it, we have power over the Slayer."

"That's lame."

"I don't think it's lame," Andrew chimed in. "I think it's a brilliant plan."

"You would," Jonathan mumbled under his breath.

"Where is it?" Warren demanded.

"Here," Jonathan replied, thrusting a small item into Warren's outstretched hand.

Warren smiled, looking down at the small, blackened crystal. "Now if only we can figure out what it does…"

*** *** ***

Buffy walked around the living room of the house she'd been told was "hers." She looked at the pictures on the mantle, realizing that other than herself and her mother, she didn't know a single person in any of them.

Buffy flopped down on the couch, overwhelmed. "None of this makes any sense."

Spike sat beside her. "What's the last thing you remember before you woke up in my bed?" Dawn looked sharply at Spike when he said "bed," but he ignored her.

"I was sitting in front of the school. This old guy came up to me, saying something about my 'destiny,' but after that everything's a blank."

"Merrick," Dawn announced.

"Who's that?" Spike asked her.

"Buffy's first Watcher," Dawn replied. "I don't know much about him, but old guy talking about destiny…"

Spike nodded. "Watcher."

"What's a Watcher?"

Spike and Dawn both ignored Buffy's question. "It seems like she had everything erased in her mind from right before the moment she found out she was the Slayer on."

"Why do you people keep talking about Slayer?"

"Has Willow come home yet?"

Buffy, Dawn, and Spike all turned to look at Tara as she walked into the living room. "Willow's not here," Dawn said. "And we have a bit of a situation."

"Situation?" Tara asked with a frown.

"Buffy's lost herself about five years," Spike said. "And not in that overnight wrinkle cream way women seem to be obsessed with."

"Do I know her, too?" Buffy asked.

"That's Tara," Dawn provided. "She lives here with us. So does Willow."

"Who's Willow?"

"The redhead in the pictures."

"Oh."

"What happened to Buffy?" Tara asked.

"We're not sure," Spike replied. "She was at my crypt after patrol, and she just passed out.  When she woke up, she was like this."

"That sounds like a spell," Tara said.

"A spell?" Buffy asked. "What do, you think someone put a voodoo curse on me?" When the room continued to ignore her, Buffy muttered, "You're all totally insane."

"Spell? Where did Willow say she was going?" Dawn asked.

"A study group." Tara's brow furrowed. "She promised me she wouldn't…"

"Why do I get the feeling you don't mean she promised you she wouldn't go to study group?" Dawn asked.

Tara sighed. "She was talking about doing a forgetting spell. But…but not to make Buffy forget this much, just that she…" Tara changed her sentence, not wanting to scare the amnesiac in the room. "Just last summer. But we talked about it, and agreed that it would be the wrong thing to do."

"Sounds to me like maybe Red didn't agree as much as you thought she did," Spike said. "Spell gone wonky—has her mark all over it."

"You people honestly thinks someone put a spell on me? Do you realize how crazy that sounds?"

Finally, someone paid attention to Buffy. "You'd think so," Dawn said. "But, well, your life is a bit…complicated."

"Complicated how? Would someone just tell me what's going on?"

"You're a vampire slayer, and you live with witches, one of whom may have put a spell on you," Spike rattled off in a monotone.

That earned Spike a big "Huh?"

"Like the nibblet said, things are confusing." Spike patted Buffy's shoulder. "Just relax about it now, and when we find Willow, hopefully we'll get it all straightened out."

Buffy looked at Spike. Now that she could think of him as something other than "kidnapper," she realized how hot he was. Way hotter than Tyler, she thought. She wondered if Spike was her boyfriend. Her supposed sister and friend seemed rather used to him being around, and she had woken up in hi s bed. Buffy gave Spike her flirtiest smile, batting her eyelashes for good measure. "You promise everything will be all right?"

Spike's eyes bulged in surprise. Was she flirting? "Uh, yeah. We'll…fix it." He winced at how lame he sounded to his own ears.

Buffy seemed not to agree on his conclusion of lameness. She smiled brightly and moved closer to Spike on the couch. Tara and Dawn shared a curious look across the room.

The front door opened, and a new tension filled the living room. Willow walked in, all eyes immediately going to her.

"Is that Willow?" Buffy asked.

Willow frowned. "I did something bad, didn't I?"

Tara crossed her arms and gave her girlfriend the Look of Death. "Uh huh."

"Buffy thinks she's fifteen," Dawn said, filling Willow in. "She's forgotten everything about being the Slayer."

"She wasn't supposed to forget that much," Willow said in her own defense, knowing it would pointless to deny she'd done anything at all. "Maybe I could tweak the spell a bit…"

"No!" Tara snapped. "If you do that, you might end up giving her total amnesia. We need to break the spell altogether."

"There's, um, a slight problem with that," Willow replied.

"What sort of problem?" Dawn asked.

"Well, the spell's easy to break—I wanted to make sure it was fixable if I'd messed something up again. All you have to do is smash this crystal. But, well, it sort of got stolen by a demon."

"Demons again?" Buffy asked.

"There's always a demon," Dawn said. "Just go with it."

Buffy nodded, then looked back at Spike. His shirt was tight enough that she could see his nice, yummy muscles. Surely he could protect her from anything scary. She slid closer to him again, this time pressing her thigh against his. When Spike looked at her questioningly, Buffy winked at him.

Spike jumped back. "What sort of demon was it?" he asked Willow in a rush.

"I'm not sure," Willow replied. "It was red, with horns, and a beard. And it had wings, too."

"Did it wear a funny outfit—sorta like a fancy diaper?" Spike asked.

"Yeah," Willow replied. "Do you know him?"

"Buffy and I ran into him the other night," Spike replied. "He's the one that claimed to be 'testing' her."

"The same one that she thought might have some connection to that black van?" Willow asked.

Spike nodded. "That's the one."

"I wonder if he knew what the crystal was for, and he was trying to incapacitate the Slayer," Willow said.

"Whatever he's doing, it has to be bad," Dawn said. "We need to get Buffy back to normal fast."

"I'm all for being normal Buffy again." Buffy said. "This whole thing is majorly giving me the wiggins." She reached over and touched Spike's thigh.

Spike jumped up. "Right then. I'll go check out some local demon haunts, see if I can find anything about a new player in town."

Buffy stood, standing as close to him as she could. "I'll go with you."

"No!" Spike replied. "I mean, uh, it won't be safe—you know, with you not remembering any of your, uh, Slayer training."

Buffy looked up, batting her eyelashes again. "But you'll be there…"

"It's dangerous," Spike countered.

"Where are you going?" Dawn asked. "Willy's?"

"Probably."

"They won't know about the amnesia. You might get better results if you have the Slayer with you."

"I can be like totally intimidating," Buffy said with a bright smile.

"Dawn has a point," Willow said. "A lot of the demons in there seem to be afraid of just the thought of the Slayer."

"See. I'm scary," Buffy said, her smile still in place. Sure, this was all insane, and she was beginning to wonder if this was all just a really weird dream, but she was amused by the idea of being something that would scare a demon.

"You're scary all right," Spike said, inching away.

"Great!" Willow said, clapping her hands together. "So Spike and Buffy can go see what they can pound out of the locals, and we can do some research to try to figure out what type of demon we're dealing with."

"Shouldn't we call Giles?" Tara asked.

"There's no need to bother him now," Willow said, images of how Giles would respond to her latest magical mess-up running through her head. "It's late—he's probably asleep."

Buffy tugged on Spike's hand. "Come on—let's go intimidate some demons. Ooh—do I get weapons?"

"Let me handle the weapons," Spike said, the idea of this Buffy wielding a weapon making him way beyond nervous.

Buffy smiled dreamily at the thought of Spike with a weapon. She bet it made him look all manly… "Okay, Let's go, Spike. Come on!" She pulled on his hand again, leading him towards the door.

Spike glanced over at Dawn. She was smirking at him, and Spike realized she knew what pre-Slayer Buffy was like, and therefore knew was he was in for. He gave her a desperate look, but her only response was a small wave good-bye.

Spike let Buffy drag him from the house.

*** *** ***

"You got any gum?"

Spike glanced down at Buffy. "No."

She shrugged, regarding her nails for a moment. Spike knew he should be grateful for the quality Buffy Time, but this Buffy unnerved him. She'd been overtly flirtatious, and while under normal circumstances that would've been enough to make his unlife, all he could think of now was how this could only turn out badly.

"I like your coat," Buffy said, playing with the arm of his duster.

"Uh, thanks."

"So what are we?"

Spike frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You and me. I woke up in your bed…"

"We're not like that," Spike said quickly.

"Do I have a boyfriend?"

"Not of late."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"So why aren't we together? I mean, we obviously hang, and—if you don't mind me saying—you are totally drool-worthy."

Spike told himself that he'd done the right thing in not telling Buffy that they were a couple and convincing her to jump in the next set of bushes with him. Anything but his best behavior could lead to a rather dusty ending the moment she remembered everything. "It's complicated."

"People keep saying that," Buffy whined, kicking a rock that was in her path. "It's not a very good answer."

"It's good enough."

"Are you gay?"

"What?!" Spike asked, sputtering. "Why would you ask that?"

"Well, there is your hair…"

"Oi! The hair's part of my Big Bad image, thank you very much," Spike said with a pout.

"Okay, fine. I won't question your sexuality or your hair," Buffy said with an overdramatic eye roll. "So why aren't you interested in me?" Buffy found it shocking that a guy could be around her and not want her. All the boys in school always wanted her. She was Buffy Summers, cheerleader—Prom Princess and Fiesta Queen.

"It's not me, pet," Spike admitted softly. "It's you who isn't interested in me."

Buffy gaped at that. What as wrong with Buffy of the future? This total hottie wanted her, and she didn't jump his sexy bones? Had she totally lost her marbles in the past five years? "Why not?"

Spike thought for a moment, deciding what he should tell her. He knew he could lie to her, but he also knew the truth would come out eventually—especially if they ran into trouble at Willy's. "I'm a vampire, Buffy."

Buffy stopped, and Spike wondered if she was going to run. She didn't. She'd decided back at the house to take all the freaky things in stride. It seemed like a better plan than wigging the way she wanted to. "Well, that explains the crypt. And the cold hands. Are you an evil vampire?"

Of course, Spike thought. He was bad…evil…the worst. He looked down into Buffy's wide, green eyes. "No. I'm not."

Buffy started walking again, with Spike still beside her. "It's cool then. Besides, you being a vampire—kinda sexy."

Spike stumbled. He shook his head, reminding himself that this wasn't his Buffy calling him "sexy," but a version who had no idea who he really was. She'd just forgotten that he disgusted her. "Um, thanks."

They walked the rest of the way to Willy's in silence. Once there, Spike turned to her. "Be careful in here, Buffy. It's a rough lot, and if they find out you're less than yourself, things could get ugly real fast. Best just to keep your mouth shut."

"Got it. I'll be total zip-lip girl." She punctuated her sentence with the requisite lip-zipping gesture.

"Right," Spike replied, hoping that fifteen-year-old Buffy was more capable of keeping quiet than twenty-year-old Buffy. He knew he shouldn't hold his metaphorical breath. "Just stay by my side, kitten."

Buffy blushed when he called her "kitten." She was a definite a fan of being called pet names with that oh so sexy voice of his. She decided for the millionth time since she'd discovered that she was apparently not interested in Spike that grown up Buffy was a moron. "I'll be happy to stay by your side," Buffy said, eyelashes fluttering again.

"Well, if it isn't the little Slayer and her pet vampire," a big green demon at the bar sneered as soon as they walked in. "How's it feel to have no balls, Spikey?"

Spike groaned as Buffy charged the demon, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pressing him against the bar. "Listen you, I'm the Slayer, and I say you leave Spike alone before I…um…slay you." Spike gave her a pained look. "Oh, and um, have you seen a big red wingy demon around?"

The demon trembled slightly. "No…"

Buffy shook him hard and screamed, "You lying to me, bitch? Am I gonna have to start ripping off non-essential parts until you squeal like the pig you are, huh?"

"I swear! I haven't seen any big red wingy demons!" the green demon screeched.

Spike tapped her on the shoulder. "He's not lying, Slayer."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Buffy shrugged and dropped the demon to the ground. "Anyone else in here got any useful information?" she yelled, hands on her hips.

Every demon in the bar shook his or her head quickly.

Spike knew he needed to get Buffy out of there. She was likely to start something, and without remembering any of her fighting moves, that could get ugly. "I think we're done here, Slayer," Spike said, taking hold of her arm. "Let's go home and see if the others have found anything."

"But I haven't gotten to hurt anyone yet," Buffy whined.

"I know. Next time."

Buffy grinned again. "Goody. Let's go then."

The demons turned away as Spike led Buffy out of the bar.

"Did you see me?" Buffy asked, her step bouncy. "I totally intimidated them."

"Uh, yeah. What happened to being quiet?"

"I was gonna do that, but then that one demon was mean to you, and that made me angry. But I was good, right? What did you think of what I said? I got that from a movie."

She looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes, and Spike didn't have the heart to say anything unkind to her. "You were great, luv."

Buffy felt tingles rush over her. He called her luv… That had to be the sexiest sound she'd ever heard. She took his hand, swinging their arms as the walked.

Spike looked down at where their hands met. He knew he should let go, but he couldn't. Even if it wasn't real, Buffy's hand felt perfect in his. He gave it a small squeeze, smiling as they walked together.

*** *** ***

Buffy lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Spike had run off almost as soon as he'd gotten her back to her house. She'd wanted him to stay, but he'd barely even listened to her pleas. She'd wanted him there more than anything. She felt better when he was around. Despite the fact that she'd originally thought Spike was a kidnapper, and had since discovered he was really a vampire, she felt safe with him.

Buffy listened to the silence of the house, knowing that the others had already gone to bed as well, deciding to try to restore her memories in the morning. She glanced at the clock. She'd been in bed for almost two hours, and she didn't feel any closer to falling asleep than when she'd first come upstairs.

She got out of bed, quickly changing out of her nightclothes before climbing out of her window.

*** *** ***

Spike woke to the comforting feeling of a warm body pressed up against him and a familiar, pleasant scent surrounding him. Still groggy from sleep, he pulled the body closer to him, burying his face in her soft hair.

Suddenly, realization hit, causing Spike to wake completely. Buffy was in his bed—in his arms. He pulled back, rolling off the edge of the bed and hitting the ground.

A few moments later, Buffy's face appeared over the edge of the bed. "Spike, what are you doing on the floor?"

Spike sat up, rubbing his head. "What are you doing in my bed?"

"I couldn't sleep in mine."

"Well, you can't sleep in mine either!" Spike snapped.

"You didn't seem to mind. As a matter of fact, it looks like you like it."

As Buffy's gaze trailed down, Spike realized he was naked—and responding to Buffy's presence. He pulled the sheet off the bed, wrapping it around himself as best he could. "Buffy, please, you need to go."

"Why?" Buffy asked, stretching out on his bed.

"Because if you don't, I'm going to do something that'll get me staked good and proper the moment you remember how much you hate me."

"I can't possibly hate you that much," Buffy said. "I mean, any guy with a body like that… And I know twenty-year-old me isn't blind."

Spike sighed. "We have a history, Buffy. It's bad. You just don't remember it."

"Then tell me! Tell me why I'm supposed to hate you."

Spike closed his eyes, forcing his body to accept that he was doing the right thing by telling a willing Buffy lying in his bed something that would make her run away from him. He imagined himself as dust in the wind, and spoke.

"We were mortal enemies. I spent the better part of two years trying to make you the third Slayer I killed."

Buffy's eyes grew wide, and Spike expected her to bolt. She didn't. "Why didn't you?" she asked softly.

"The government did something to me, put a chip in my head so I couldn't kill people anymore."

"But you've been nice to me. Does the chip make you be a nice vampire?"

"No."

"Then why are you?"

"I'm not…" Spike looked down. "I'm in love with you." Spike thought of every other time he'd made that confession, and how Buffy had always looked at him with disgust.

"Wow. That's like totally romantic."

Spike's head shot up. "What?"

"Well, it is. I mean, you should've killed me, but instead you fell in love. It's romantic."

"Pathetic is what it is."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't think it's pathetic. The vampire and the slayer. It's like Romeo and Juliet."

Spike cursed under his breath. This was probably the mindset that led her to fall for Angel. "Romeo and Juliet died, Buffy."

"So. We could one up them."

"Go home."

"I don't want to."

"Your mates'll worry."

"I don't care. I'm an adult now, aren't I? I'd rather stay here."

"I don't want you here."

Buffy pointed to the tent that was still in the front of the sheet. "He does."

"Dust," Spike thought, "This will lead to me being dust." "Go home, Slayer."

"But…" Buffy pouted.

Spike started to argue more, but stopped when he heard someone walking around in his crypt. A few moments later, Willow came down the ladder. "Spike, we can't find Buffy," she started. Then, she turned around. Her eyes bugged. "Because she's apparently here. In your bed. And you're almost naked."

"We didn't…it's not…don't stake me." Spike said, backing away from the bed.

"Spike and I were talking," Buffy said, wanting Willow to just go away.

"I can, um, see that," Willow said, blushing. "Buffy, Giles wants you at the Magic Box."

"He wants me in a magic box?"

"No. The Magic Box is his store," Willow explained.

"Oh. And Giles is the old British guy, right?" Buffy asked. "My…um…Watcher?"

"Yeah, that's Giles. We called him this morning, and he wants to see you so we can figure out what to do about this spell."

"Are you in trouble?" Buffy asked.

"A bit," Willow admitted. "Giles isn't happy with me."

"He shouldn't be too rough on you. This really isn't too bad," Buffy said, getting off the bed and standing beside Spike. "Are you coming, too?" she asked him.

"Can't. Sun's up."

"Vampires really catch on fire in the sun?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that blows. Come and find me after sundown, see if I'm all grown-up Buffy again?"

"I will." Spike gave Willow a nervous glance.

"Well, um, let's just go and let Spike sleep, because that's what he's been doing with Buffy here, right?"

"Right! Been sleeping. Not taking advantage of fifteen-year-old Buffy."

"Good to know. Come on, Buffy. Let's go talk to Giles and try to fix this mess."

"Bye, Spike," Buffy said with a bright smile. "Don't forget to find me after sunset."

"I'll be there, kitten."

"Let's go," Willow said, tugging on Buffy's arm."

Buffy gave Spike one more glance before following Willow up the ladder.

Spike sat down on the bed, his shoulders slumping. He hoped they got Buffy back to normal before she pushed him past his limit.

*** *** ***

Buffy sat on the counter of the Magic Box, watching the door. The sun had just set, and she was impatiently waiting for Spike to show up. She'd met the rest of the people who were supposedly her friends, but she didn't feel any real desire to spend any time with them. Anya and Xander were sitting around the table trying to find the demon that had taken the crystal, while Giles, Tara, and Willow were in the back, searching for an alternative means of spell reversal. Dawn was staying the night with a friend, the general belief being that she'd be better off removed from all of this.

"Hey, Buff, is this the demon?"

Buffy looked up at Xander, whom she'd been told had been her friend since she'd moved to Sunnydale years ago. However, with no memories of this friendship, she'd been finding him rather annoying, and wondered if her lost memories really made her feel any differently. "How am I supposed to know? Amnesia, remember?"

"Oh, right."

"But I don't think so. Willow said it was red, and that one's pink with big green spots."

The bell over the door jingled, and Buffy turned sharply. As Spike came in, she grinned brightly, running to him for an enthusiastic hug. "I missed you all day," she whispered.

"Missed you, too, kitten." He pulled away slightly, looking down into her eyes. "I take it you're still fifteen."

"Yeah. They've been making with the researchy-ness all day, with the smelly books and the even smellier spells, but it's been a no go."

"Hey, Captain Peroxide, hands off the Buffy."

Xander's outburst pulled Spike's attention to the fact that his hands were still resting on Buffy's hips. He let them drop. "Just came by to check on the Slayer," he explained.

"Yeah, well, she's fine. You can go now," Xander snapped.

"Hey! I asked him to come, and I want him to stay," Buffy said.

"Buffy, I don't know what he's told you, but Spike is not someone you can trust," Xander said.

"He told me who he is," Buffy said.

"Did he tell you about the time he chained you to a wall and threatened to let his crazy ex kill you? Or how about the time he made a Buffy robot to use as a 'girlfriend.'" Xander said the last word complete with air quotes.

Buffy looked at Spike in surprise. "You did that?"

The look in Buffy's eyes hit Spike hard. He'd liked the trust and playfulness that had been in them earlier. "I…I did." He turned away. "I'll go now." Spike left before he had to hear Buffy condemn him. Again.

Buffy looked back at Xander. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what, make the psycho killer get away from you? Look, Buffy, you may not remember this, but Spike is not your friend. He comes in handy in a fight now and then, but he's still a vampire. He wants to hurt you."

"And what, you guys are so big on not hurting me? I'm sorry, but it was one of you who put this spell on me in the first place. How can I trust any of you?"

"We're your friends!" Xander replied. "Spike's an evil vampire. If he seems like he's being a nice guy, it's just because he thinks you're more vulnerable now, and he can finally get what he wants out of you!"

Buffy thought back to that morning when Spike had resisted her advances. "You're wrong."

"He did help us this summer," Anya piped up. "And Buffy wasn't around then, so she couldn't be the reason for that."

"Anya!" Xander snapped in a warning tone.

"No, let her talk," Buffy said. "I mean, I may be a fifteen year old cheerleader from L.A., but I'm not stupid. I know something's going on that no one's telling me. What happened that Willow wanted me to forget? Where was I this summer?"

"It's better we don't talk about that," Xander said.

"It's my life! I may not remember it, but it still is. How can I trust any of you if you won't tell me the truth?"

"But you'll trust Spike?" Xander asked in anger and disbelief.

"Spike's the only person who's been at all straightforward with me!"

"We've been straightforward with you."

"Oh yeah, then where's my mother?"

Xander winced. "Buffy…"

"She's dead, isn't she?" When both Anya and Xander were silent, Buffy yelled, "Answer me, dammit!"

"She died last year," Anya said. "Aneurysm."

"I need to go," Buffy said. "I've been here all day. I…I can't take it anymore."

"Where are you going to go?" Xander asked.

"I don't know. I just need… I need to not be here."

"Buffy, you can't just wander around out there in your…condition," Xander said. "You don't know how dangerous it is out there."

"What does it matter if it's dangerous?" Buffy asked. "I'm the Slayer, right? Can't I handle myself?"

"You don't remember how," Xander said, grabbing her shoulder in an attempt to keep her from leaving.

"Let me go!" Buffy took hold of Xander's arm and threw him across the room. Her hand went to her mouth, surprise coursing through her at what she was capable of. "I'm sorry," she muttered before running from the shop.

*** *** ***

Spike looked up sharply when he heard a small tap at his crypt door. He didn't know anyone who bothered to knock. Usually, a good, swift kick seemed to do.

Another knock, then the door slowly opened. Buffy peeked in, and Spike could tell she'd been crying. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Buffy walked in, shutting the door behind her. "Everything."

"Buffy, what Xander said earlier…"

"Tell me honestly, did you do those things?"

"I told you I did."

"Why?"

"Because I'm an idiot." Buffy chuckled, and Spike smiled a little. "The robot thing, I don't know… I just wanted you so much, and I thought it was a way for me to have you. Dumb, I know, but I don't always think before I act. And as for the chaining you up bit, I thought it was the only way I could get you listen to me tell you how I feel about you. And I swear, Buffy, I never would've let Drusilla actually hurt you. Please, believe me about that."

"I do." They were silent for a moment, and then Buffy pointed to the glass he was holding in his hand. "Is that blood?"

Spike held the glass up so she could see it better. "Bourbon."

Buffy walked over, sitting in Spike's lap and resting her head against his chest. He froze for a moment before setting his drink down and wrapping his arms around her. "My mom's dead," Buffy said after a few minutes.

"They tell you after I left?"

"Yeah. I had to practically force it out of them."

"I'm sorry, pet."

"It's strange. It doesn't seem real. I have no memory of her dying. In my mind, she's just supposed to pick me up from cheerleading practice at the end of the day. But that was five years ago, and she's gone now, and it hurts."

"Course it hurts. She was your mum. And Joyce—she was one amazing woman."

"You knew my mom?"

"Yeah."

"Were you sad when she died?"

"I was. She was one of the few people in this world who never treated me like a monster, and that meant a lot to me."

"Did I treat you like a monster?"

"Sometimes. Usually when I deserved it. But you also know how to treat me like a man." Spike closed his eyes, remembering the night he'd said something similar to her—the same night he'd failed her.

"Everything's so mixed up. I keep looking at these people I'm supposed to love, and I feel nothing. They tell me they're my friends—family even—but I look at them and see strangers. It scares me."

"Does that go for me, too?"

"No. I look into your eyes, and I feel something. All day, all I wanted was to be back here with you. And…and it's strange, but I get the feeling that it's more than me just not remembering them. There's something else, too. Something I can't quite grasp."

"You felt alienated from them before the spell," Spike told her. "You'd been spending a lot of time with me instead. That's why you woke up in my crypt that night."

"What happened, Spike? I know something bad happened to me this summer, and I need to find out what."

"Willow may have had a point in wanting you to forget that, luv."

"No. Don't you do that, too. You've been upfront about everything I've asked you. Don't stop now."

"You died."

"Huh? I what?" Buffy pulled back, gaping at him in disbelief.

"You died. Sacrificed yourself for Dawn. Your friends brought you back a few months later, but this whole summer you were dead and buried."

"So that's what she wanted me to forget—that I died?"

"That, and well, Willow and the others think you were trapped in a hell dimension."

"They think I went to Hell? Geez, what kind of friends are they? Wait—did I go to Hell? I mean, I've done some bad things, like the time I stole a pack of gum from the gas station, but…"

"No, pet, you didn't go to Hell. But they don't know that. You've been distant since you got back, and they think you've been having a hard time adjusting from whole hellish torture bit, but the truth is, you were in Heaven—and they pulled you out. Being here, being the Slayer again, you said this is the real Hell for you."

Buffy stared for a moment, trying to wrap her head around what he'd said. She couldn't really. Without the first hand knowledge she'd had with her lost memories, it was impossible. "How do you know that?"

"You told me. Right after you came back. Guess you had to tell someone, and you didn't want to tell the ones who did the resurrecting. Guilt and whatnot."

"I was dead. And in Heaven. That's…a lot to take in."

"I know."

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm hungry."

Spike chucked. "Not quite what I was expecting you to say. All I have here is blood. Oh, and Whetabix."

"Wheata-what?"

"Wheatabix. It's cereal. Kinda like a big block of crumbly wheat bits."

"Ew. Stop right there." Buffy gave Spike her sweetest expression—the one that made all the boys in school desperate to do her bidding. "Could you go get me something to eat?"

Spike looked into her eyes and knew he'd do anything for her. "What do you want, kitten?"

"Could you get me a hamburger? I usually try to avoid the greasy, but I'm in need of comfort food."

"Don't worry about what you eat, pet. Slayer metabolism. You can eat whole pizzas in one sitting and never gain a pound. I've seen it."

"Ooh. In that case, I want ice cream, too."

Spike smiled, resisting the urge to press a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Whatever my girl wants."

"Am I?"

"Are you what?"

"Your girl."

"Buffy…"

"I wanna be, you know."

"I want you to be, too, but you can't be. Not without your memories."

"But…"

Spike cut her off. "I'll make you a deal. You still wanna be my girl when you remember everything, and you will be." Spike tried not to let the pain he felt then seep into his words. He knew it was just something to say to placate Buffy, and that as soon as she was herself again, the last thing she'd want would be to be "his girl."

"Okay, I guess I can live with that for now," Buffy said. "So where's my guilt-free junk food?"

Spike chuckled, lifting her off his lap so he could stand. "I'm on it." He put on his duster, then went to one of the sarcophaguses, lifting the lid and retrieving a sword. He handed it to Buffy. "If anything demony comes in, decapitate first and ask questions later. Unless it's a guy with a lot of skin—answers to the name of Clem. He said he'd be coming by later to bring some poker winnings he owes me."

Buffy nodded. "Right. Kill unless it's bringing power winnings."

"You got it." Unable to resist any longer, Spike placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll be waiting."

Spike knew the thought of Buffy waiting for him in his crypt would be enough to ensure a speedy trip.

*** *** ***

Buffy looked up hopefully when the door to the crypt opened again. Spike had only been gone a few minutes, but for all she knew he had some kind of vampire teleportation power. She frowned when she saw it was Giles. "Oh, it's you. Watcher dude."

"Buffy, you need to come home this instant. You cannot spend the night in a vampire's crypt."

Buffy crossed her arms in front of her. "I can, and I will."

"This is ridiculous. I don't know what sort of lies Spike has told you, but he is not your friend."

"Ugh. You and Xander must take some sort of Spike bashing lessons. And you want to talk about lies—Spike's the only one who hasn't been telling them. It's been you people that's been all big with the whole 'hide the truth from Buffy' thing."

"We've only been working in your best interest. And we've also been worried sick about you since you threw Xander across the room and then ran away."

"Look, the Xander throwing incident was an accident. I didn't realize the Slayer gig made me that strong. But I don't want to be with you guys. I want to be with Spike. He's making this whole situation bearable. So go on, work on reversing the spell or whatever, and I'll be right here."

If there was one thing Giles had learned in his time as Buffy's watcher, it was that he'd have a better chance at trying to teach a twenty-year-old dog to dance on his hind legs than he would ever convincing Buffy to do something when she was in one of her stubborn moods. "When you have your memory back, you'll see how foolish this behavior is."

"Maybe. But right now, this is where I want to be."

"You know where the people who really care about you are if you need us."

"I know where you are, yeah."

"Remember this, Buffy—Spike is a cold-blooded killer."

"Got it. Killer vampire out getting me dinner and ice cream."

"Buffy, if Spike is being nice to you, it's only because he wishes to, um, well, he wants to…"

"Bang me 'till I can't walk straight? You can say the word, Giles. I'm fifteen—not a nun. Besides, I grew up with cable."

Giles blushed. "Yes, well…"

"Look, think what you want about Spike. I can see the truth."

"Buffy…"

"Just go. I'm tired, and I'm hungry, and if you really know me as well as you claim, then you know how cranky that makes me."

"Right. Do be careful."

Buffy flopped back in Spike's chair. "I'll be fine."

Giles gave her one last pleading glance before leaving.

*** *** ***

When Spike came back, Buffy was on the floor playing with three black and white kittens. "I take it Clem came by," Spike said, putting Buffy's ice cream in his freezer.

"Yeah. Why do you play poker for kittens?"

Spike looked down. "Well, because, um, kittens…um, we…well…"

Buffy guessed where he was going with that. "Ew, Spike. Eating kittens is gross and totally not cool."

Spike had the decency to look sheepish. "I am a vampire, after all."

"Well, you can't eat any more kittens. Especially not Pete, Frank, and Larry."

"You named them Pete, Frank, and Larry?"

"Of course. Why?"

"I just figured you'd be more the type to name your car Mister Fluffy Paws or something."

"Nope. I think you should give your pets good, solid people names. I mean, how would you like it if people called you… Wait, never mind. Spike's one of the top ten names for a dog."

"Oi! No insulting my name, Buffy."

"Oh, come on, you're asking for it when you call yourself 'Spike.' I mean, really. What's your real name?"

"William."

"I like that. Can I call you William?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it's a bloody poncey name, that's why."

"I have no idea what that means, but I don't agree. William's a good strong name—like…" Buffy thought about the last thing they'd been studying in her history class, "William the Conqueror."

Spike chuckled. "Thanks, pet."

Buffy grinned. "So, Willie, where's my hamburger?"

*** *** ***

Spike smiled contentedly. Buffy was sitting in his lap as they watched television, the carton of ice cream they'd shared on the floor at their feet. Something inside him said that the Big Bad should not be happy just to hold the Slayer in his arms like this, but Spike didn't care. Having Buffy this close, both physically and emotionally, was all he could ever hope for.

Buffy yawned, and Spike frowned. He didn't want this to end, but he knew it had to eventually. "Tired, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, it's been a long day."

"You want me to walk you home then?"

Buffy looked at him shyly. "I was kinda hoping I could stay here."

Spike thought back to how hard it had been for him to have Buffy in his bed that morning. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea…"

"Please? I'll be good, I promise."

"It's not you I'm worried about."

"I don't want to go back home. I don't know any of them, and I hate it there."

Spike sighed. He knew he was entirely love's bitch, but he couldn't tell her no. "Fine. But, please, don't try to tempt me, all right? You may not realize it now, but memoryful Buffy will stake me if we do anything."

"I don't think I would, but okay. No fooling around."

"Thanks, pet." Spike questioned his sanity for a moment when he realized he was thanking Buffy for promising not to try to have sex with him, but then he reminded himself that it was the safest route. And hey, maybe this would earn him a thank you kiss, like when Glory had tortured him. That was always something to hope for…

Buffy and Spike went down to the lower level, with Buffy insisting they bring the kittens along with them. Once down there, Spike lit a few candles so Buffy could see.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I maybe have one of your t-shirts to sleep in? It would be more comfortable."

The thought of Buffy in his clothes brought all sorts of thoughts to Spike's mind. "Yeah, sure." He rummaged through his drawers, then tossed her one of his black shirts. As she started to undress, he turned his back to her, reminding himself again just how much he didn't want to be dust.

"I'm decent now."

Spike looked back to see Buffy sitting on his bed, wearing one of his shirts. It was anything but 'decent.' It like one of his bloody wet dreams come to life. He swallowed, then took off his boots and belt before joining her.

"Do you usually sleep with that many clothes on?"

"I am tonight."

"I saw it all this morning."

"That's not the point. And you promised to behave."

"Sorry." When Spike continued to lie a good bit away from her, his body stiff and awkward, she asked, "So is holding me not allowed, too?"

"Probably shouldn't be."

"I need to be held, Spike. Please."

Spike took a moment to calm himself before rolling over, taking Buffy in his arms. She nestled against him immediately, and he brushed a soft kiss to her hair. He wanted this to be real, wanted it to be the Buffy who remembered him—and wanted this still.

But it wasn't, and for that moment, Spike was content with what he had.

*** *** ***

Spike woke to something tiny nibbling his foot. He muttered, pulling his leg up. He started to drift back to sleep when his foot was bitten again, this time harder, and with tiny claws involved. He jolted awake, crying out.

Buffy opened her eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked, still mostly asleep.

Spike glanced at the little ball of black and white fur staring up at him from the end of the bed. "Larry bit me."

Buffy looked down. "That's Pete," she said before getting resituated on the pillow, her eyes drifting shut again. "Besides, vampire getting bitten—sorta karma."

"Watch that mouth, missy."

Buffy smiled, her eyes still closed. "Or what?"

Spike wasn't sure why he did what he did next. Before the rational part of his brain kicked in and told him he was doing something beyond stupid, his lips were on hers. Buffy's eyes popped open, and after the initial shock, she was kissing back.

Suddenly, Spike pulled away, remembering why he couldn't be doing this. "Buffy, I'm sorry. We…"

Buffy didn't let him finish. She wrapped her fingers around the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling his mouth to hers again. Spike closed his eyes and gave him, the taste and smell of Buffy almost overwhelming him. After a few moments, they broke apart, both panting.

Buffy ran her fingers down his cheek. "Do you even need to breathe?"

"Only when you're around."

"Ironic, 'cause it always seems like you take my breath away."

The look in Buffy's eyes hurt Spike more than any physical blow she'd ever delivered. Her gaze held nothing but warmth and trust, but he knew it was only because of a spell—just like the engagement spell that had wreaked havoc on his emotions years before. What she felt for him now, it wasn't real, and it would go away as soon as she was herself again.

"We should get out of bed, Buffy."

"Why? I'm sure it's still morning. Isn't that when vampires are supposed to be in bed?"

"Yes, but… You should go find the others, see if they have any ideas on getting your memories back."

"I don't want to bee with them. I want to be with you. I thought we covered this last night."

"I know, but you should at least check in with them."

"I'd rather keep kissing you."

Buffy pouted. "But don't you like kissing me, Spike?"

"Little girl, you have no idea. But that's not the point…"

Buffy pushed up against him, bracing her hands against his chest. "I liked kissing you. Really, really liked kissing you." She lowered her eyelashes seductively.

Spike growled, crushing his mouth to hers again. He ran his hand down her side, stroking her hip with his fingers for a moment before taking hold of her rear and pushing her against the bulge that was forming in the front of his jeans. Buffy whimpered and rubbed up against him, and Spike forgot to care that if he kept going, non-amnesiac Buffy would stake him. Sure, he'd be dust, but at least he'd die a happy man…

Spike was just about to roll Buffy over and have his wicked way with her when once again teeth clamped around his toe. "Bloody hell, Pete!"

"Actually, that time it was Larry."

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, calming himself. He brushed Buffy's hair away from her face. "We shouldn't be doing this, pet."

"Why? Don't…don't you want me?"

"Of course I do, but it's not right, Buffy. You're not…you're not you right now."

Buffy looked hurt for just a moment before her eyes hardened, and she got out of bed. She gathered her clothes back up angrily and headed for the ladder. Spike jumped up, running to her and grabbing her arm. "Where are you going, Buffy?"

"Don't touch me!" Buffy snapped, wrenching her arm away from him. "Don't ever touch me again!"

Spike blinked. "Did you just get your memory back?"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"What? Buffy, what is this?"

"You love her—not me!"

"Huh? Who are you talking about?"

"The other Buffy! The Buffy with the memories! She's the one you want!"

"Bugger," Spike muttered. This is just what he needed in his unlife, Buffy throwing a jealous fit over his feelings for, well, Buffy. "Look, that's not true. I don't love you for your memories. I love you for you, and you're still, um, you."

"But you said this couldn't happen because I'm not me."

"That's not what I meant."

"It's what you said!"

"Pet, what I meant by that was, well, you're fifteen years old…"

"My body isn't."

Spike's jaw clenched as he tried to force his own body not to respond to that statement. "I know, but you don't understand how much Buffy with memories hates me."

"If she hates you, then why did she tell you about being in Heaven and not her other friends, huh?"

"What difference does it make tellin' me? Whisper your secrets to a dead man, doesn't mean anything."

"Maybe you're just discounting what you mean to her. Maybe memoryful Buffy does like you back."

"No! Don't you understand? Even if she did feel something for me, she'd never act on it, not the way you're doing! If I do anything with you, she'll kill me. And I don't mean that figuratively. I mean it in the sense of any more hanky panky, and it's a stake through the heart for old Spike. I may have pushed it too far already."

"She wouldn't. I wouldn't."

"Buffy…"

"Spike, I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. And I don't know a lot about falling in love, but I don't think what I feel for you is something that could just pop up overnight. I feel like it was there before, like maybe…maybe my heart didn't forget."

"Please don't say that, Buffy. It's too good. I can't…I can't let myself think…"

Buffy launched herself at Spike, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. As soon as her lips touched his, Spike kissed back, turning them around so he had Buffy against the wall. Buffy broke away, moaning as Spike's cool hands traveled under the shirt she was wearing.

"Please," Buffy whimpered. "I need you. It feels…it feels like my body's always wanted this. Been waiting…"

"Buffy…pet…need you so bad, baby."

"Buffy? Spike? Are either one of you here?"

"Bloody hell," Spike grumbled, letting Buffy slip to the ground.

"Maybe if we hide, she'll go away."

Spike shook his head. "Not Dawn. She's…persistent."

"Spike, it's really bright outside, so I know at least you're here."

"See?" Spike said, nodding towards the trapdoor. "Put your pants on and go see what your sister wants."

Buffy pouted. "But I don't wanna put my pants on."

"Buffy, please. You don't want Dawn to find us like this."

"Fine," Buffy grumbled. She put on her jeans, then told Spike with a wink, "You're taking these off later." She climbed up the ladder before he could respond.

"Buffy! There you are!" Dawn said when Buffy appeared through the trapdoor. "What were you doing down there?"

"Um, sleeping?"

Dawn took in Buffy's rumpled clothes—Spike's shirt no less—her tousled hair, and flushed cheeks. "Uh huh. You were making out with Spike!"

"I was not!" Dawn crossed her arms in front of her and raised an eyebrow, and Buffy sighed. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Apparently age really doesn't bring more common sense," Dawn said. "I always figured you should've jumped Spike's sexy, undead bones ages ago."

"Why didn't I exactly? Cause damn, major hottie there."

"Because he's evil or something. But it's a totally lame excuse because Spike adores you. This summer, when…" Dawn trailed off.

"It's okay, Dawn. I know I was dead. Kinda freaky, but it's not like I remember it."

"Oh. Well, um, while you were gone, Spike took care of me. He promised you the night you left that he would, and he was determined to keep it. It was really sweet and romantic. Like his love was so strong it didn't die with you." Dawn leaned in conspiratorially. "He hates it when I say this, but I don't think he's all that evil anymore."

"He doesn't seem evil to me. You should see him with the kittens. It's so cute."

"Oi! Vampire hearing! Not cute!"

Dawn and Buffy both looked embarrassed for a moment when they realized Spike had probably heard most of their conversation, but they quickly started laughing. "There are kittens?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah. Apparently Spike and his friends use them to play poker."

"Spike!" Dawn yelled. "That's horrible! Poor kittens!"

"Vampire, nibblet! Evil vampire!"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to him. He has delusions of still being the Big Bad."

Buffy giggled. "Well, from what I felt this morning, the big part certainly isn't a delusion."

Dawn giggled, too. This is what she'd always wanted, a sister who would share secrets and talk about boys and stuff. Not a sister who thought she was too young to do anything. "So where are these kittens?"

The trapdoor opened and each of the kittens were placed on the ground one by one. "Thank you, Spike!" Buffy called before he shut the door again.

"Aw! They're adorable!" Dawn said, picking one up. "What are their names?"

"You're holding Frank. And that's Pete, and Larry."

Dawn giggled. "Good names."

"Thanks. So did you stop by for a social visit, or…"

"Oh, right. Sorta thrown for a loop with the whole you macking on Spike thing." Dawn scratched Frank behind his left ear. "The Scoobies have gathered to once again try to fix your problem, and they want you to come back to the Magic Box."

"The what?"

"The Scoobies. It's a sort of nickname for your slaying buddies. Short for the Scooby Gang. You know, like the people on Scooby Doo, with the monster hunting and all."

"Guess it beats them referring to themselves as 'Those Guys in the Van…'"

"Lame, I know, but I had nothing to do with it. So are you coming?"

"I don't want to…" Buffy said, glancing down to where she knew Spike was.

"I don't blame you for that," Dawn said. "But if I show up and tell them you can't come because you're playing tonsil hockey with Spike…"

"Good point. It would probably make Xander explode." Buffy smirked. "On second thought…"

Dawn snickered. "Hey, maybe this time they'll actually find something quick and useful."

"I doubt it. Did you see them yesterday before they mercifully allowed you to leave? Anya was looking at floral arrangements, Xander kept going on donut runs, and Willow spent more time apologizing for casting the damn spell than actually doing anything to fix it."

"Yeah, that's pretty much the norm around here. At times I'm shocked more of them haven't died. Or at least lost some limbs. Maybe an eye."

Buffy sighed. "Just let me put on my other shirt so I look a little less suspicious, and we can go."

"Yeah, the too-big black t-shirt does sorta scream 'raided Spike's wardrobe.'"

Buffy opened the trapdoor, but before she could say anything, her shirt flew up, hitting her in the face. "Um, thanks," she called down. "I'll be back later, okay?"

"Whatever, Slayer."

Buffy frowned. Maybe she was imagining things, but Spike sounded a lot colder than he had been earlier. Had she done something wrong? Dawn turned around letting Buffy change her shirt. Then, Buffy went over by the television where she'd left her shoes and socks, quickly putting them on. She went back to the trapdoor, calling down, "Don't forget about the kittens. Clem brought them food, too, and it's…"

"I know where it is, Slayer."

"Um, okay. I'll be back, I promise."

Spike didn't respond. Buffy sighed, turning back to Dawn. "Let's go."

*** *** ***

Spike sat on the end of his bed. He knew he should be happy to think about this morning with Buffy, but he wasn't. He'd meant it when he'd told her she was still basically Buffy, even without the memories, and that he loved her, but that didn't change the fact that she didn't really love him. Touching her this morning, hearing her talk to Dawn like he wasn't something to be ashamed of—it was more than he could've ever hoped for.

But it wasn't real. She'd get her memories back, and even if what she was feeling was real, she'd push it down, telling herself that the Slayer could never love a soulless vampire.

Spike heard a tiny meow and looked down. "I know how she tells you three apart," he told the kitten. "Just a bunch of bloody balls of fur to me."

The kitten gave a pitiful mew, and Spike sighed, picking him up. The kitten purred and rubbed against Spike's hand.

"I am the Big Bad, y'know," Spike said, scratching the side of the kitten's face. "Not supposed to be getting all emotional over the bloody Slayer. Guess it's a bit late for that though, innit?"

The kitten's only response was a loud purr.

*** *** ***

Buffy chewed a piece of bubble gum. Loudly. "This majorly sucks," she announced to the group in the Magic Box. They all looked up at her. "Well, it does."

Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them, making Buffy roll his eyes. Was he obsessive-compulsive with those things or something? "Buffy, we're trying to help you."

"With what, magic donuts and bridal magazines? Whatever." She popped her gum. "I'm outta here."

"Buffy, really, you need to…"

"Go to the mall," Buffy said, finishing Giles's sentence the way she thought it should end. "Dawn, you wanna come with?"

Dawn saw the looks she was getting from Giles and Xander, but she didn't care. It's not like they were letting her do any real research anyway. "Sure. Someone has to show you where it is after all."

"Dawn, this isn't…"

"Bye, Xander!" Dawn announced, running out of the Magic Box with her sister.

"Should one of us maybe go keep an eye on them?" Tara asked.

No one answered.

*** *** ***

"The malls in L.A. are sooo much better than this one," Buffy said, surveying the Sunnydale Galleria.

"Tell me about it. But a crappy mall is better than no mall."

"Some of the time." Buffy bit her bottom lip. "I want to buy something for Spike."

Dawn arched her eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Got any suggestions?"

"Edible underwear?"

Buffy giggled, playfully slapping Dawn's arm. "No. Pervert. Something sweet."

"Edible underwear can be sweet. Or so I've heard anyway…"

"Not yummy sweet. Romantic sweet. He thinks I only love him because of the whole amnesia thing, and I want him to know that isn't true."

"Oh my god! You love Spike?"

Buffy blushed. "Maybe. I don't know. But I think maybe I do."

Dawn squealed, jumping a few times before hugging her sister. "This is awesome. You and Spike will make such the coolest couple."

"I know. I just need to convince him of that. You said you hung with him all summer. You have to help me."

"Got it. And we're going for sweet, not kinky?"

"Yep. Although if I have things my way, kinky'll come later."

Dawn giggled. "This is so great. Come on, let's go find something Spike will love."

*** *** ***

Dawn had been wandering the mall with Buffy for close to three hours. She seemed to find something wrong with everything they saw, but assured Dawn she'd know what to buy when she saw it.

"How about that shirt," Dawn asked as the walked past the men's department in Macy's. "The blue would really bring out his eyes."

Buffy shook her head. "I already said I didn't want to encourage the wearing of clothes."

"Right. I forgot." Dawn couldn't remember a time when Buffy had been so indecisive. Granted, most of the decisions she saw Buffy make consisted of things like which sword to use to decapitate a demon, but still…

Suddenly, Buffy stopped short, causing Dawn to almost bump into her. "Buffy, watch it."

"There," Buffy said, pointing to a jewelry case. "That's it."

Dawn followed the line of Buffy's finger to a silver men's ring with a dark red stone in the middle. "It is really nice, but, um, price?"

Buffy pulled out a wad of bills from her pocket. "Shouldn't be a problem."

Dawn gaped. "Where did you get that?"

Buffy shrugged. "I overheard Xander complaining on his cellphone to one of his work buddies about how Anya was driving him insane with all the wedding stuff, and he was half-tempted to suggest the bride's maids where giant bunny costumes just to shut her up. I offered my silence in return for monetary compensation."

"You blackmailed Xander?"

"Well, yeah."

Dawn hugged her. "You are like the coolest amnesiac sister ever."

"I know, aren't I though?"

The sales clerk came up to Dawn and Buffy. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Buffy said. "I'd like to look at that ring please."

The woman didn't flinch or give Buffy a "yeah right, you kid" look. Buffy decided there were some perks to not being a teenager—at least on the outside. Dawn leaned over Buffy's shoulder as the woman placed the ring on the counter.

"Do you think it'll fit him?" Dawn asked. "I never asked his ring size…"

Buffy frowned for a second, thinking. Her eyes lit up when she saw a man a few feet away. She grabbed his hand. He made a sound of protest, but Buffy ignored him. "What do you think, Dawn—about Spike's size?"

"Pretty close," Dawn agreed.

"Sir, could you maybe try this ring on? It's for my boyfriend, and I don't know his ring size…" Buffy bit her lip, give her most pitiful look.

The man smiled, forgetting how irritated he had been a few seconds before. "Sure." He slipped the ring on.

Buffy grabbed his hand again, turning it over a few times. "It fits. Looks good on, too." She nodded to the sales clerk. "We'll take it."

Buffy smiled as the sales clerk rang her up. She knew she could convince Spike of her feelings, and then they could be happy, amnesia or no amnesia.

*** *** ***

"Spike, I'm home." Buffy walked into the crypt, smiling when she saw Spike sitting in his chair. She walked over to him, climbing into his lap and kissing his cheek. "Miss me?"

Spike sighed, prodding Buffy gently off his lap and to her feet. "We need to talk, Slayer."

Buffy frowned. She could see where this was going. Plus, he'd called her "Slayer." That always seemed to accompany a colder version of Spike. "Don't call me that. I'm Buffy. I don't even remember anything about being the Slayer. The word means nothing to me."

"It means everything!" Spike yelled, jumping up and causing Buffy to stagger backwards. "Don't you understand? You get your memories back, and all you'll be when you're around me is the bloody Slayer!"

"That's not true! Maybe the memories I had as the Slayer made me push down what I felt for you, but it was still there—and it's real. Feeling it now, I could never bury it again, no matter what I remember."

"How do you know it was there? You don't remember anything."

"I know what I feel! No, I don't remember anything about you from before the other day, that's true. And I don't completely understand any of this, but I do know it's something real. Something strong."

"Slayer…"

"Listen to me, dammit! I love you, Spike. I love you."

Spike felt grief warring with elation. Hearing Buffy tell him she loved him was more than he ever could've hoped for, but it wasn't real. It couldn't be. "You don't…"

Buffy slapped her hand over his mouth. "Don't say it! I love you! Maybe the Slayer couldn't tell you, but I can. And I mean it, Spike. I don't remember loving anyone else, but I know that when I look at you, that's what this is—love."

Spike stared at her, trying to wrap his mind around what she'd just said. She didn't remember loving anyone else… It hit home for the first time that she didn't remember the "great love" she'd shared with Angelus. Spike had always known his grandsire would shadow any sort of relationship Spike had with Buffy, but now, they didn't have him hanging over them. They didn't have anything hanging over them. Even more so than the lack of her Slayer memories, Buffy no longer had the fear of what would happen if she allowed herself to fall for another vampire. Could she really be telling him the truth when she said that she loved him—and that that love had been there all along? More importantly, could he dare to hope that that love was strong enough to stay in place once she had to face her memories?

Spike looked at her, his eyes pleading. "Buffy, I don't know what to do…"

Buffy took his hand, placing a small, cool object in his palm before closing his fingers over it. Spike opened his hand, questioningly regarding the ring that was now there. He turned it over in his hand, reading the inscription that was inside.

William—Remember love always. Buffy

Spike felt the last of his resolve slip. He knew he could lose this as soon as he memory was back—knew there was the good chance she'd go as far as to stake him—but if this was his only chance to feel loved by the woman who meant more to him than even his own existence, he'd take it. He slipped the ring on his finger and grabbed Buffy, kissing her deeply.

When Spike pulled away, he saw Buffy panting, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark with passion. He reached out tentatively, then ran his fingers through her golden hair. "I love you, Buffy. I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Spike smiled, pushing away any doubts about what he had with Buffy at that moment. The past, the future—they didn't matter. He'd live for the now, like he always had before. He took Buffy's hand, leading her towards the trapdoor that led to the lower level of the crypt.

"Where are we going?" Buffy asked.

"To bed, love."

"I'm guessing we're not going there to sleep…"

"Not exactly tired." Spike frowned, noticing how tense she'd become. "Something wrong? Do…do you not want…"

"I want!" Buffy said quickly. "I really, really want. It's just, well, um, I assume I probably have before, but, well, the amnesia, and, um…" She looked down, blushing.

Spike cupped her cheek, tipping her face so their eyes met again. "This feels like your first time then?"

"Yeah."

"I'll make it special for you, love."

Buffy looked down again. "I'm not worried about how you'll be. I'm…I'm afraid I won't be good enough. I mean, you're a vampire. You're all sexy, and I'm sure you've had all this experience, and…"

"Buffy, pet, just being with you will make this better than anything I've ever experienced before. You have no idea how long I've waited for you to just let me love you."

"You don't have to wait any longer."

Spike kissed her again, waiting for her to melt against him before picking her up. He jumped down into the bottom level of the crypt, cradling Buffy against him as he did. With one hand he shooed the kittens off the bed before laying Buffy down. He stilled as she looked up at him, stretched out seductively on his bed, her hair fanned out on his pillow. For the first time in almost longer than he could remember, he had the urge to write poetry, even if it was of the bloody awful variety.

Spike lit a few candles around the bed, surprised at how repulsed he was by the thought of taking Buffy in the dark. If this was her "first time," he'd do it right. He turned to look at her again, the soft glow of the candles making her seemingly even more beautiful. Spike stared at her, finding it difficult to believe that she was really there, that this was going to happen. In that moment, she was the loveliest creature he'd ever seen, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her for all eternity.

"What are you thinking?" Buffy asked.

Spike said the first thing that came to his mind. "Effulgent."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Is that a good thing?"

Spike smiled, crawling into the bed beside her and taking her hand. "Yes. Means you're beautiful, radiant. You glow."

Buffy smiled back, using her free hand to caress his face. "Then you're effulgent, too."

Spike chuckled, the happiness that was overflowing inside him making him wonder for a second if it was possible for his heart to begin beating again. "Let me show you how much I love you, Buffy."

"Please, Spike. I want you to show me. I want you to show me everything."

Spike descended to capture her lips with his. Buffy kissed back eagerly, moaning against Spike's lips. Once she was completely relaxed in his arms, Spike trailed his hands down her body, cupping her breast through her shirt. Buffy responded quickly, thrusting into his cupped palm. Spike moved his kisses from her lips to her jaw, then up to her ear, where he nibbled once on her lobe before whispering. "I want to see you. Let me take off your shirt."

Buffy nodded, not trusting her own voice. Spike's nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons of her blouse, then her bra, baring her chest to him. He ran his finger against a puckered nipple, smirking as she hissed in pleasure. "Like that, kitten?"

"Yes. More, Spike…please."

Spike obliged wordlessly, bending to take the peak into his mouth. Buffy cried out, her fingers wrapping in his hair and pulling on the curls almost painfully. Spike wondered if her reaction was this intense now, how she'd respond to the other, more naughty, things he had planned for her. Not wanting to make either one of her perfect breasts feel neglected, Spike moved to the other side, caressing the abandoned nipple with his hand as he did so.

"Spike," Buffy whispered, her breath coming out in pants. "That feels so good."

Spike responded by moving his hand from her breast down to her thigh, then up her skirt. He pushed her lace panties to the side, rubbing the outside of her pussy gently before thrusting two fingers inside her. Buffy moaned, thrusting her hips up to meet his hand. As she did it a second time, Spike curved his fingers, easily finding the spongy spot inside of her as he bit lightly on her nipple. Buffy screamed, the sound ending with a choked sob. Spike kissed his way back up to her lips, pressing his mouth against them softly as he continued to thrust his fingers into her core. When he did pull out of her, Buffy cried out again, thrusting her hips in desperation.  Spike broke the kiss, murmuring reassuringly to the woman thrashing beneath him.

"Shh… It's all right, love. Gonna make you feel so good."

Spike slipped Buffy's skirt down her legs, leaving her in nothing but a cream-colored lace thong and thigh-high leather boots. Spike shivered, the sight something straight from one of his best dreams. He pulled down the zippers on her boots, kissing the flesh he uncovered as he did so. Buffy trembled as he massaged the arches of her feet for a moment before he made the journey back up to her thong, alternating kisses on each tanned leg as he did so. He stroked her through her panties for a moment, drinking in the sound of her pleasure-filled gasps.

"Do you want more, Buffy?" he asked, his voice sensual enough to make her shiver.

"Please. Oh God, Spike, I need you…"

"I know, pet. I'll make you feel so good." With that, he slipped her panties down her legs, tossing them to the foot of the bed. He rubbed her clit, making lazy circles with his thumb as he waited for her eyes to drift shut. As soon as they did, he leaned down, licking all the way up her pussy in one long stroke. Buffy's eyes shot open, her hips bucking violently up as she cried out Spike's name. "You want more?" Spike asked.

"Yes…" Buffy replied, her voice a whisper. "More…more of that."

"Happy to oblige, pet." He lowered his head again, growling low in his throat at her sweet scent. Buffy whimpered, the vibrations sending delicious sensations throughout her body. He started slowly, licking around, but avoiding direct contact with, her clit. Buffy whimpered, fisting her hands in the blanket. Suddenly, Spike changed tactics, thrusting three fingers inside of her as he sucked her clit into his mouth. Buffy screamed his name over and over, her hands moving to grasp his hair. Spike continued his dual assault, growling as Buffy responded so enthusiastically to him.

"Spike! Oh god, oh god…" Buffy trailed off, only able to make wordless pants and moans. Finally, she keened loudly, thrashing under Spike's mouth. She tightened almost painfully around his fingers, letting Spike know that she had indeed reached her peak. He continued to lick her slowly until her body went limp, still trembling lightly from the aftershocks.

Spike climbed back up the bed, leaning over her, his smile smug. "Enjoy that, pet?"

Buffy opened her eyes, smiling lazily. "Uh huh. You're…good."

"Thanks, luv. You're…tasty." He licked his lips and winked.

Buffy blushed as she realized she was completely naked and pleasantly sated, while Spike was still fully clothed and, from the looks of the bulge in the front of his jeans, painfully hard. "Spike, do you need me, to, um…do something like that for you?"

Spike felt touched by Buffy's concern. And while the thought of Buffy's mouth around him did sound tempting, he had other plans for her at the moment. "Not this time, pet," he said, brushing her hair away from her face. "This first time, it's just for you."

"But what about you?"

"What I just did was heaven for me. And we still have a bit left, don't we?"

Buffy tore her gaze away from his. "Yeah…"

Spike frowned. "Buffy, if you don't want to go any further, that's okay." Spike could barely believe he was actually saying this, knowing that if he wasn't inside her soon, he'd be in serious pain. But the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt the girl who was in his bed right then. She was his everything.

Buffy looked back, her eyes nervous but expectant. "I want to. I told you I did. I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to do."

"Whatever comes natural, pet. You've been doing bloody wonderful so far."

Buffy's expression changed to hopeful. "I have?"

"Yes." Spike reached out, taking her hand and molding it over the front of his jeans. "Feel that, baby? That's all because of you—because of how much I want you."

Buffy gave the bulge an experimental squeeze, and Spike's eyes rolled back in his head. "Can I see it?" Buffy asked softly.

Spike nodded, suddenly not trusting his own voice. He sat on the edge of the bed, slipping off his boots before standing and removing his shirt and jeans. Buffy's eyes widened at the site of him, a slight gasp escaping from her lips. "Is it…supposed to be that big?"

Spike chuckled, her question filling him with manly pride. "Mine is. Don't worry, kitten. It'll fit."

Buffy eyes were transfixed on the sight in front of her. Slowly, she reached out, brushing her fingers against the tip. Spike hissed, forcing his knees not to buckle at the unexpected, soft touch. Buffy gave him a few exploratory strokes, marveling at the way it seemed to jump in her hands. Spike closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to come at just the knowledge that Buffy's hand was on his cock. His eyes popped back open, and he cried out as he felt her lick the tip. "Buffy…please…not now, pet."

Buffy looked up sharply. "Did I do something wrong?"

Spike shook his head. "No. Just you keep that up, and you're going to have a mess on your hands you're not prepared to deal with yet."

"Oh. So I was doing good then?"

"Very good."

"I like the way you taste," Buffy said. "I never really thought I'd like that, but…but I want to do more sometime."

Her words made Spike shiver. "Don't worry. We'll have plenty of time for that later. Now lay back, sweetheart."

Buffy did, resting her head on the pillows and throwing her legs open. Spike took a deep breath, knowing this was it. In just a few moments, he'd be buried inside his Slayer. Buffy looked up at him through hooded eyelids. "Make love to me, Spike. Please."

Those words brought Spike immediately down on top of her, rubbing his cock against her entrance. Buffy whimpered, her hips thrusting up in an attempt to pull him in. Spike teased her for a few more agonizing seconds before he slid forward, pushing the tip inside of her. Buffy cried out in pleasure, reaching up to grab hold of his shoulders.

Spike was transfixed by the spot where they were joined as he slid in, inch by inch. The thought that this was actually Buffy he was with was almost too much for him to handle. When he was all the way in, Buffy groaned, wrapping her legs around his hips. Spike leaned down, whispering in her ear, "Told you it would fit, love."

"It does, Spike. It fits perfectly. Oh god, we fit perfectly."

Spike pulled out almost completely, only to enter her again, quickly this time. "Oh, Buffy. Buffy. I love you, love you so much."

"I love you, too, Spike. I won't stop, I promise."

"Oh, Buffy," Spike moaned again, speeding up his thrusts. Buffy moved her hips in time with his, her body well used to this particular dance even if her mind was not.

"Spike…Spike…oh, Spike…more," Buffy panted, her hips moving faster.

Spike gave her what she demanded, his hips pistoning hard enough to bruise a regular girl. Buffy only panted and moaned, clinging tightly to his arms. Sensing she was close, Spike reached between their bodies, giving her clit a series of sharp twists. Suddenly, Buffy froze, her hips jerking off the bed, and her legs locked tightly around his hips, forcing him as deeply inside her as he could go. She screamed her release, holding on to Spike as if her life depended on it. Spike followed her over the edge, letting out an inhuman roar that could have been her name.

Spike started to drop on to her, rolling to the side at the last moment as he remembered not to crush her. Buffy shivered without his body surrounding hers, even though he'd had no heat of his own to give. Spike noticed her shake and pulled the cover up, wrapping them both securely in it.

"I love you, Buffy," he told her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I love you, too, Spike." She closed her eyes, situating herself against his firm chest. "And thank you, for making that so good for me. It was better than I ever could have imagined."

"It was good for me, too, pet. Bloody amazing."

Buffy smiled, pressing a kiss against his chest before drifting off to sleep. Spike watched her for a little while before joining her in slumber.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke in a sudden panic, a cold fear she couldn't quite understand that she'd wake alone. When she felt that Spike's arms were still wrapped around her, his head nestled against her neck, Buffy relaxed, reaching up to stroke his hair. After a few moments, Spike's eyes opened, and he looked up at her, his eyes concerned.

"Are we still good?"

Buffy gave him a comforting smile. "Yeah. We're good."

Spike kissed her neck softly before nuzzling it, a contented look on his face. "Spike?" Buffy's voice was soft, unsure.

Spike looked up. "Yeah, love?"

"Um, never mind."

Spike's brow creased. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Nothing's wrong. I was just wondering… It's nothing."

"Buffy, if you want to ask me something, go ahead. It's all right."

Buffy looked away from his eyes, blushing fiercely. "I was just…well, um, you were there at my neck, and I was um, wondering it you wanted to…bite me?"

Spike pulled up, his eyes wide. "Buffy, no. I wasn't…I wouldn't! Love, don't worry—I would never hurt you!"

"No! That isn't what I meant! I didn't…I didn't think you'd hurt me. It's just, um." Buffy blushed harder, staring at the sheets. "In, um, movies and stuff, the vampires always have a more, um sexy bite, and I don't even know if it's real, but…" She trailed off, the blush starting to cover her entire body.

"You want to know if I want to give you a 'sexy bite?'"

Buffy nodded. "Uh huh."

Spike moved before she had time to register it, pinning her body beneath his. "Kitten, there is nothing I'd rather do than taste your sweet blood while I make love to you." He gave her neck a long lick to emphasize his point, then pulled up a little, sighing. "But I can't. Chip in my head—no pain to humans rule."

"Would it hurt?"

"Not really. Not if I was going for something other than pain. But I go after a human's neck while I'm all fangy, and it's migraine city."

"Have you, um, ever tried it during sex since you got the chip in?"

"No."

"Maybe if it, you know, wasn't to hurt me, then maybe the chip would let you."

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, willing his body to calm down at the realization that Buffy was seriously asking him to bite her. During sex, no less. But he couldn't. Even if the chip would let him, that would be a definite way to ensure his end should she get her memories back—if he hadn't pushed that already. "I can't, baby. I want to, really I do, but, well—think of what your mates would say if they saw you with a bite mark on your neck. Xander would probably stake me right then and there."

Buffy pouted. "It's none of their business. Especially Xander's."

"I know, but they don't see it that way. We don't want to call attention to what we've been doing here. They'd make us stop. Do you want that?"

"No. I never want to stop, Spike." She frowned for a minute, thinking. "Maybe you could bite me somewhere they couldn't see."

Spike pictured himself sinking his fangs into a few "places they couldn't see" and almost gave in. But there was still non-amnesiac Buffy to contend with. She wouldn't be too thrilled with bite marks on any part of her body. "We can't."

"Spike…"

"No! I can't bite you. Please, stop asking."

"Fine. Sorry."

Buffy had stiffened a bit in his arms, and Spike sighed mentally. He didn't want to be arguing with her. Not now. He rubbed against her suggestively and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "There are other things we can do, feel just as good." Spike felt Buffy relax underneath him, and knew he had her again.

"Well then, handsome, why don't you show them to me?"

*** *** ***

"Spike, stop. I think I heard something upstairs."

"Don't wanna stop."

Buffy looked down at him. "I don't want you to stop either, but…"

"Buffy? Spike? Stop the kinky sexcapades and come upstairs."

Spike grumbled, forcing himself off of Buffy. "She's your sister. You deal with her."

Buffy stood, the frowned. "What happened to my underwear?"

"Dunno. I kicked it off the bed some time last night, I think."

"Dammit, I can't find my skirt either," Buffy said, searching around the bed for her clothes. "Your clothes are right there. Go tell her I'll be up in a minute."

"But I don't want to get dressed…"

Buffy gave Spike a dirty look. "Would you rather she came down here?"

"She wouldn't. Bit knows better."

"Either you two come up here, or I'm coming down there! And I don't care if you're naked!"

Spike sighed dramatically, putting on his jeans and t-shirt. "Bloody Summers women," he muttered under his breath, climbing the ladder.

Dawn giggled as Spike came up, his hair a mess and his expression a scowl. "Did I interrupt something?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"This better be good, Dawn."

Dawn reached up, smoothing down his curls. "I bring news from the Scoobies."

"Yeah? They find a way to give Big Sis her memories back?" Spike tried to sound more hopeful than not, though he was pretty sure he'd failed miserably.

"No. Exact opposite, actually. They've run completely out of theories on how to fix the problem. Without that crystal, any spell they could perform on Buffy would be potentially dangerous, and they still have no idea what sort of demon it was that took it. Apparently it was completely unlike any demon Giles has in his books."

"Huh. And I figured the Watcher had a book on all things demony."

"So did I. The guys are going to go patrol tonight, see if they can find the demon around. Are you going?"

"Um, I need to, uh, stay here and protect Buffy. You know, without her memories, the Slayer could easily fall prey to some big scary demon."

"Uh huh. Like she apparently did last night?"

Spike looked down. "Well, um…about your sister and me."

"It's cool, Spike. I understand. I don't think you're taking advantage."

"That makes one of us."

Dawn put her hand on Spike's arm reassuringly. "Don't worry about what's going to happen if Buffy gets her memory back. The way she was talking about you yesterday—she loves you, Spike. I've known Buffy my whole life, and I know what she looks like when she's in love. The way she smiles when she says your name…she never did that with Riley."

"She's a fifteen year old girl. They get more into relationships than…"

"Hello! Fifteen year old girl here. When's the last time you saw me all lovey dovey over some random guy I didn't really care about? It's not the age thing, Spike. It's love."

"I want to believe that, nibblet, but you know what your sister is like when she's…"

"All Slayery?"

"Yeah."

The trapdoor opened again, and Dawn and Spike turned to see Buffy come up. "Hey, Dawn."

Dawn smirked. "Hey, yourself. Have a good night?"

"That is none of your business," Buffy said, siding up next to Spike and wrapping her arm around his.

"Well, if your hair wasn't answer enough, that just was," Dawn replied.

Buffy reached up, pouting. "What's wrong with my hair?" She reached up, smoothing the sides of her head. "I tried to fix it, but somebody doesn't have any mirrors." She poked Spike in the side.

"Be a bit useless, pet."

"Not with me staying here," Buffy grumbled.

Spike kissed the top of her head. "Like you need a mirror to know you're gorgeous."

Dawn squealed. "Okay, usually all this mushiness would totally gross me out, but you two are like so totally adorable."

"You're not going to say anything to the others, are you bit?" Spike asked.

"Yeah, and have someone I care about end up in a dust buster? Not likely."

Spike smiled, snaking his arm around Buffy's waist and pulling her against his side again. Having these two women with him, knowing he meant something to both of them—it was probably the one time in his unlife that he remembered being actually happy.

"They don't want me back at the Magic Box do they?" Buffy asked. "Cause if they do, I so totally have the flu." She faked coughed into her hand.

Dawn giggled. "No. Giles said that there wasn't really any reason for you to be there, since you don't seem to be big on researchiness. Although he isn't exactly thrilled about you staying with Spike."

"Not his life," Buffy said with a shrug.

"Nope. Mainly I was just supposed to tell you that they still have no clue how to get your memory back."

"Tell them there's no rush," Buffy replied. She liked things the way they were. If Spike was right, and her memories made her an unhappy Buffy, the last thing she wanted was them back.

"Well, message delivered, so I'm off," Dawn said, inching towards the door. "You two have fun."

"We will," Buffy replied with a giggle.

As soon as Dawn was out the door, Spike pounced on Buffy, growling as he threw her over his shoulder and carried her back to his bed.

*** *** ***

Buffy lay propped on one elbow, watching Spike as he slept beside her. Even without her memories, she knew this was crazy. She was smart enough to figure out Spike had done some bad things in the past—some of them to her—and that that should drive her away from him, even if she couldn't remember specifically what they were.

But the way she felt with Spike made none of that matter. The first night she'd lost her memory, he'd told her he wasn't evil, and she believed, whatever the past may be, that was the truth now. After all, how could he look at her with such love and be nothing but an evil monster?

And love was what this was. Buffy felt it more than she'd ever felt anything in her life. When she was with Spike, she felt safe, warm—happy. She'd started to wish that she never got her memories back. Maybe this is just what she and Spike needed—a fresh start. She could live like this forever, in his arms, blissfully ignorant of any darkness in their past.

She stoked Spike's cheek, smiling at the way he nuzzled against her, even in his sleep. She snuggled against his chest, falling asleep with a feeling of nothing but contentment.

*** *** ***

Andrew didn't see what the big deal was about this crystal. They'd had no luck whatsoever in figuring out what it actually did. Normally, he'd never think to question Warren's greatness, but as well as the Great Crystal Caper was going, he was beginning to wonder if maybe this one time, Warren was well, not wrong, because Warren could never be wrong. Maybe he was a little less than right.

The crystal didn't look special to him at all. It was small—fit in the palm of his hand. Warren had kept saying it had to be something important because Willow had had it, but for all they knew, it could be for a witchy rock garden…

"What are you doing?"

Andrew jumped at the sound of Warren's voice, the crystal flying out of his hand and landing on the floor. "Nothing!"

"You aren't supposed to be in here unsupervised—not after the incident with the can of cheese. You know that."

"I know, I'm sorry. It…it won't happen again."

"Better not. Come out of here. Jonathan won't play X-Wing vs. TIE-Fighter with me."

Andrew grinned. "I love that game!"

"I know. Come on."

Andrew followed Warren out, not noticing as he crushed the black crystal beneath his feet.

*** *** ***

Buffy woke, feeling safe enveloped in strong arms. Her body tingled and ached in a satisfied way, making her smile and stretch slightly against Spike's chest.

It was then that Buffy felt a flood of memories hit her. Her stomach flipped as she realized what had happened. She lay still for a moment, on the verge of tears. She trembled, her arms still clutching him. Finally, she gathered her strength and pushed herself out of his grasp, scrambling in the dark chamber in search of her clothes.

"Pet?"

Buffy didn't look at Spike. "I have to go."

Spike felt pain wash over him with realization. "You remember."

"Everything."

The room as silent as Buffy dressed, her back to him. Once she was fully clothed, she turned around again, looking at Spike. She wished she hadn't. She started to speak, but realized there was nothing she could say. Spike nodded, and Buffy walked away.

*** *** ***

Buffy welcomed the quiet stillness of the empty house she returned to. She knew she should seek out her friends, let them know she was herself again, but she couldn't bring herself to face them now. Instead, she sat on the far corner of the couch, her knees pulled up to her chin.

She felt any progress she'd made towards accepting the fact she was alive again slipping away, leaving her empty inside again.

Buffy remembered the past few days with Spike, and she let the tears fall. She wished now she'd listened to him, believed him when he'd said they couldn't be together, but the obstacles standing between them were more than a fifteen year old version of herself could ever imagine. She'd tried loving a vampire before, and it had only ended with death and tears. She couldn't do it again, couldn't sacrifice her duties as the Slayer for desire.

She leaned down, her face resting between her knees. She wanted it all to be over, wanted to be at peace. She had fulfilled her duties as Slayer, gone above and beyond her Calling, and now she was back, forced to deal with the struggle all over again. It was worse now than it had been before, knowing where she could be instead, knowing what she'd lost.

She'd told Spike when she'd first come back that this was Hell, and that felt truer to her now more than ever. In his arms she'd found something almost as good as Heaven, but it, too, had been cruelly ripped from her. She hugged her knees tightly, letting the tears fall.

*** *** ***

Spike sat up in his bed, unable to fall back asleep after Buffy left. Their scents still mingled all around him, and he couldn't decide if he found more pain or comfort in that fact. He was grateful for the almost-tangible evidence of what they'd shared at the same time he cursed it for making the loss of the woman he loved so terribly vivid.

"You didn't lose her, you git," he berated himself. "You never bloody had her."

He'd known from the beginning that it was all really no more than a fantasy, that all her talk about love would fade to nothing as soon as her memory returned. He should be grateful she hadn't left him a pile of dust.

But he wasn't grateful for that. He wished she had driven a stake through his crumbling heart. To have someone look at him, really see him, and still call him worthy, it was all he'd ever wished for. With Buffy, he'd known what it was to have that love he'd sought for over a century, and the loss of it was worse than never having it at all.

Spike looked down at the ring he still wore on his hand. Remember love, always. He knew he would, although he wasn't sure if that memory would be fodder for his dreams or nightmares. Holding Buffy had done nothing to ease his need for her. It had only strengthened it.

To make it worse, he was sure Buffy hated him now more than ever. She'd barely looked at him, barely spoken, and she hadn't seemed to be able to get out of there fast enough. He was certain she was disgusted with herself, for ever thinking she could love something like him. Like with every woman he'd ever loved, he was beneath her.

He buried his face in his hands, wishing he had the strength to put an end to the pain.

*** *** ***

Buffy stood outside the Magic Box, trying to calm her nerves. She'd allowed herself only a brief time to cry before she'd cleaned up and set out to face her friends. She didn't want to see them, but she had responsibilities. She needed to put the past few days with Spike behind her, focus on her duties as the Slayer.

If she could focus on her work, maybe she could ignore the aching emptiness inside her.

Buffy pushed the door open, wincing as the bell cheerily announced her presence and caused all eyes to turn to her. "My memory's back," she announced without preamble. "Whatever you guys did, it worked."

"We didn't do anything," Willow replied. "We still can't find that demon—or the crystal—and we couldn't find a spell that wouldn't cause more problems than it would fix."

"Well, the spell must've just worn off then, because I'm Buffy with Memories again."

"I'm glad to hear it," Xander said. "Amnesiac Buffy was getting creepily obsessed with the Bleached Evil."

"His name is Spike," Buffy snapped, unable to keep herself from feeling anger from Xander's dig at Spike. She now had her memories to place Xander in her life, and she remembered what he meant to her, but at the same time, she had her perceptions from her time without memories, too. She loved Xander dearly, but she was seeing him in a new light, and found she had little tolerance for his judgmental, hypocritical behavior. How many people had Anya killed after all?

"Whoa, Buff, take it easy," Xander replied. "I know his name. Just never figured it was that important."

"Well it is. Dawn told me how he fought by your side all summer. You could show him a sliver of respect for that at least."

"Whether he helped us out this summer or not, he's still a killer," Xander replied. "I don't respect killers."

"I guess that explains your treatment of Anya," Buffy replied, causing an immediate hush to fall over the room. Even the ex-demon in question had nothing to say. Buffy sighed. "Look, I just wanted to let you know you can stop your search to cure me, because I'm all fine again. I'm just gonna go now."

"Are you sure?" Willow asked. "You…you don't seem fine. Do you need to talk?"

Buffy looked around the room, noting the two people who were absent: Dawn—who was at school—and, of course, Spike. No, she didn't want to talk. Not with any of them. "No."

"Buffy…"

"Dammit, Willow, I don't want to talk! Especially not with you!"

Willow reared back as if hit, her eyes clouding over with pain. "Buffy…what…"

Buffy felt herself start shaking with rage, unable to keep what she'd felt since she'd been ripped from Heaven bottled up anymore. She was sick of being thrown back and forth between happiness and misery, sick of having bliss and then having it torn away. Why should she spare their feelings when they played with her life like it was a toy? "You're not god, Willow, so stop playing one. You can't just do whatever you want, without thinking of the consequences."

"Buffy, I'm sorry. I just wanted to help you."

"Well, you didn't! You had no right to mess with my memory like that. I may not know anything about being a witch, but I do know a thing or two about power, and I know you can't use it without considering the consequences. Do you know why Faith is sitting in a prison cell right now instead of here with us, doing what she was called to do when she became a Slayer? Because of power. She had it, and she used it when she shouldn't have, and it destroyed her."

"I'm nothing like Faith!" Willow declared, horrified that Buffy would draw such a parallel. "I never intended to hurt anyone."

"Neither did she, not at first. But she did, and you have, too."

"Buffy, I didn't…"

"I was in Heaven!"

It wasn't until the room grew silent that Buffy realized she'd actually made that statement out loud. Her friends looked at her in horror, and Buffy felt smothered. She turned and ran from the Magic Box.

*** *** ***

Buffy stood outside Spike's crypt, her hand against the door. She hadn't intended to come here, but here she was. She opened the doors, feeling herself pulled towards Spike.

He was standing near his fridge, glass of blood in his hand. He froze when he saw Buffy, hoping for an instant that she was here to stake him, to finish what she'd started when she'd broken him. "Didn't expect to be seeing you again so soon, Slayer," he said, trying to keep any emotion from slipping into his voice.

Buffy could see what he was trying to hide from her, saw the pain he struggled to keep at bay dance across his face. She had no doubt his love for her was real, knew that he had to be aching from the loss of what they'd shared. Part of her wanted to go to him, to hold him and tell him she'd meant every word, every touch. But she couldn't. Slayers couldn't love vampires. She knew that all too well.

"I…" Buffy paused, not knowing what to say. How could she explain her presence in his home? "I came for the kittens."

Spike blinked. "The kittens?"

"Yes. If I leave them here, you'll use them as poker chips."

"Right." Spike set his glass down on a sarcophagus. "They're downstairs. Let me get them."

Buffy nodded, letting herself slump when she was out of Spike's sight. How could he make her feel this much? He reemerged a few minutes later, carrying a cardboard box with a tiny, furry paw poking over one side.

"They're all here. In one piece." He frowned. "Or in three pieces, or… They're all fine."

Buffy smiled slightly, taking the box from him. As she did, her hand grazed his, and they both jumped slightly from the contact. "I…I have to go."

"I know."

"I'll…I'll see you around, Spike."

"You, too, Buffy."

Spike was almost certain he heard her start to cry as she left, but he pushed the idea away. Buffy didn't love him. She never would.

*** *** ***

Buffy ran her hand around underneath her comforter, watching as Frank stalked and pounced. She remembered doing this same thing in Spike's bed, remembered him watching her with an amused smile on his face. She wanted to have that now, to be back with him—smiling, laughing.

She'd been so happy…

Buffy picked Frank up, ignoring his mew of protest. She hugged him, rubbing her face against his fur and feeling it dampen with her tears. She didn't know how she could keep on living like this. It was too much.

Buffy heard the knock at her bedroom door, but ignored it. There was no one she wanted to see right now. But the knocker didn't take the hint, and the door pushed open. She looked up, frowning. "Xander."

"Hey, Buff. Can we, um, talk?"

"Rather not."

He held up his hands. "Not here to fight. I just… What you said in the Magic Box today, was it true?"

Buffy sighed, realizing he wasn't going to leave her alone. "I think so. I mean, it's not like there was a big sign that said 'Welcome to Heaven,' but it certainly wasn't Hell. It…it was nice, and warm, and…and I was at peace."

"I'm so sorry, Buffy. I…I had my doubts about bringing you back, but…" He looked down. "I just missed you. I wanted you here…we all wanted you here. We didn't think, and it was selfish, and… I know sorry isn't enough, but I don't know what else to say."

"I understand why you guys did what you did. You did think I was in a Hell dimension, which, might I add, is a tad bit insulting. But yeah, you were trying to save me, and I respect that. In retrospect it wasn't the best thing to do, but there's no way you could've known. And I didn't mean to tell you where I'd really been because I didn't want any of you to feel guilty. You did what you thought was best, and I can understand why." She sighed again, stroking Frank's back. "But what Willow did with my memory… What that did to me…and Spike."

Xander looked up sharply at Spike's name. "Buffy, tell me honestly, did he take advantage of you?"

"No." Buffy let out a deep breath. "But we did…we were together."

Xander's jaw dropped for a moment. "Buffy, you couldn't know what you were doing. Your memory…"

"I knew what I was doing, Xander. I knew exactly what I was doing. Yes, I couldn't remember my past history with Spike, but I wasn't completely clueless. But I felt something with him, something strong. It was like it had been buried under all those bad memories, and without them, it was suddenly so clear."

"Felt something? What could you have possibly felt with him?" Xander met Buffy's eyes for just a moment before her gaze fell down. "You love him."

"Yeah."

"How can you?"

"How can you love Anya?"

"You can't compare Spike to Anya," Xander snapped. "She's an ex-demon."

"Yeah, so all those people she killed came back to life the moment she stopped being a demon. Dammit, Xander, open your eyes! Anya killed as many people as Spike—probably more, seeing as she has several centuries on him. I'm not saying we should condemn her, or that you shouldn't love her. I like Anya, despite her, idiosyncrasies, and I'm glad she's in our lives. But that doesn't undo anything she did. And it doesn't give you the right to blame anything I may feel for Spike when you can't take a long hard look at your own romantic choices."

"Anya…Anya isn't killing anymore."

"Neither is Spike."

"Because he can't! Dammit, the only reason he's all lovey-dovey with you instead of trying to sink his fangs into your throat is because of that chip! If it stopped working, we'd be nothing more than food to him."

"Do you really believe that? Do you think he couldn't find some other way to hurt us if he really wanted to? The chip didn't make him help you guys this summer, and it didn't make him try to protect Dawn the way he did. I can't explain it, but there's something about Spike, something that makes him different from other vampires. It's like he…kept a part of his humanity somehow. I tried to stay blind to it before, tried to keep him from messing up my soulless vampire equals bad worldview. But I can't anymore. I saw him in a new light this week, and I can't ever go back to pretending I don't know he's something special." Buffy let out a deep, shaky breath, almost as amazed at her own words as Xander's facial expression told her he was.

"Are you and Spike…together now?" Xander asked after a few moments.

"No."

"But you just said…"

"I know what I said. And I meant it. But that doesn't change the fact hat he's a vampire, and I'm the Slayer. Been down that road before, and in case you forgot, it was an ugly, nasty, bloody one. I can't risk that much again, not even for love."

"Did he make you happy?"

Buffy wrinkled her brow. "Huh?"

"Spike, when you were with him this week, did he make you happy?"

"Yes."

Xander ran his hand through his hair. "I cannot believe I'm actually about to say this, but here goes. After all you've been through, you…you deserve to be happy. And I'm not giving my blessing or anything, because, well, I don't really like Spike—although to be honest, I do like him marginally better than I ever liked Angel, but that's beside the point. Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is, if Spike gives you something that you need, maybe you should…" Xander stopped, suddenly intensely interested in Buffy's floor. "You should be happy, Buffy."

Buffy stared at him, mouth agape. Was Xander actually telling her to pursue a relationship with Spike? And could she even do that? There were so many risks involved, so many ways to get hurt… "Xander, I…"

"Just go, Buff. Be with him if that's what you need to do." He gave her a half smile. "Just never, ever, tell me any sort of details, got it?"

Buffy laughed slightly. "Yeah." She stood, started for the door, then stopped, looking at Xander again. "Being with him, it isn't the smart thing to do, is it?"

"No. But I'm not sure love ever is."

*** *** ***

Spike had had enough of this town. Sunnydale had been nothing but a source of constant pain for him, be it physical or emotional. He decided it was time he cut his losses, get as far away from the Hellmouth—and the Slayer—as he possibly could.

Maybe then he could manage to forget.

Spike threw a few things in a bag, leaving most of his belongings for whatever demon crawled into his crypt once he was gone. He'd find someplace else, some place to start over.

He walked out of the crypt, never planning to look back.

*** *** ***

Spike knew leaving town would be much easier if he was significantly less drunk—but he wasn't about to let a few inconsiderately placed tombstones or the fact that he was lost in his own cemetery get in his way.  He wasn't stopping, wasn't looking back. He couldn't put himself through the pain that was Sunnydale, California, any longer.

Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd just pass out and wake up on fire.

"Spike! Spike, stop!"

Spike froze for a second when he heard the Slayer. He almost turned around, but then he remembered almost every conversation he'd ever had with her. They never turned out well for him. It would be a speech about how they were "wrong" together—how he was wrong—or a punch in the nose. Maybe both. He kept walking.

Spike wasn't sure exactly what happened, his drink-addled brain struggling to put anything together in a coherent way. He'd heard the Slayer call his name a few more times before he'd fallen face first onto the ground. He tried to push himself up, but there was a weight on his back, preventing him from doing so. After a moment, he realized he couldn't move because Buffy had him pinned. He frowned. "Did you tackle me?"

"You wouldn't stop," Buffy said, sitting on him to keep him against the ground. "I need to talk to you."

"Hard to talk with my face in the dirt, Slayer."

"Promise you won't run off if I let you up?"

"Yes."

"This isn't one of those things were you say you won't do something, and then do it anyway, and then when I say 'Spike, you promised you wouldn't do that,' you get all 'yeah, well, I'm evil.' You're not gonna do that, are you?"

Spike rolled his eyes, knowing Buffy couldn't see his face. "I won't go anywhere until we've talked."

Satisfied with his answer, Buffy got back to her feet, letting Spike stand again. He brushed himself off, and Buffy noticed he was carrying a bag. "You're…you're leaving."

"Yeah, I am."

"Is it because of me?"

His vampire constitution mixed with the physical shock of being slammed to the ground had managed to sober Spike slightly. At least enough for him to speak full sentences. "You know, Buffy, not everything is about you." He pointed a finger at her. "I've never been one to put down roots. Just had enough of this bloody Hellmouth, is all. Not as fun as it looked in the brochures."

Buffy didn't buy his explanation, but didn't feel like arguing the point. "So what, that's it? You're just going to leave me?"

"Leave you? You left me. Just ran off with—with your kittens."

"I never remember specifically telling you we were over."

Spike blinked. "Huh?"

Buffy sighed. "I'm…I panicked. Getting my memories back really threw me."

"And made it so you couldn't get away from me fast enough."

"No! That wasn't it at all!"

"What, you didn't wake up, remember how much you hate me, and run off in disgust?" Spike asked with a sneer.

"No!" Buffy exclaimed again. "I know that's what it looked like, and I'm sorry. I…I don't hate you."

"But you don't love me."

Buffy steeled herself, pushing her fears away. She was the Slayer. She had faced demons, a hellgod, even death. She could face her own emotions. "Yes. I do."

Spike gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he managed to ask, "You do?"

"I told you I did. Told you over and over again, if memory serves." The corner of her mouth curved in a half smile.

"But…you…your memories…you…"

Buffy reached up, placing her hand against his cheek. "Do you know why I ran? It wasn't because I don't love you. It's because I do. I was so happy with you, and when my memories came back, I thought that was something I could never have. I remembered my duties as the Slayer, and my relationship with Angel, and…and I thought I couldn't take the risk again."

"But you're here now," Spike said, taking her hand from his face and clutching it tightly. "Are you willing to give us a try now?" His heart clenched as it waited for her answer.

"I'm scared, Spike," Buffy said honestly. "I'm scared about where this can go, and of what will happen if I open myself up to someone else again. But I think…I think I need this. I need something in my life that lets me be something other than the Slayer. When I'm with you, I'm just Buffy, and I…I need to be just Buffy sometimes."

Spike regarded her for a moment, his elation at what Buffy had told him slightly numbed by the fear that she'd take it all back. "Do you know what you're saying, pet? Who you're talking to?"

"Yes." She laughed nervously. "God, this is frightening."

Spike smiled softly at her, gripping both her hands. "I won't let you fall again, Buffy."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He smiled at her. "And that's not in the 'I'm lying 'cause I'm evil' way either."

Buffy laughed. "I love you."

Spike's grin spread, brightening his whole face. "I love you, too."

Buffy took his hand and walked with him to his crypt.

*** *** ***

Buffy trembled as Spike lit the candles around his bed. She knew she shouldn't do this, shouldn't let things go any further than they had already, but at the same time, she knew she couldn't go anywhere but forward. Losing her Slayer memories had reminded her of what it had been like to just be Buffy. She didn't want to lose that part of her again. The Slayer had died to save the world. Buffy deserved a little something for herself.

Spike came up behind her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist, causing Buffy to jump. "Nervous, pet?" he asked, breathing in the scent of her hair.

"No."

"I know a lie when I hear it." Spike pulled her closer. "You're not a blushing pseudo-virgin this time. What's wrong?"

Buffy turned in his arms, looking into his eyes. As daunting as the prospect was, she knew what she needed to do. "I want you to bite me."

Spike froze, staring at her. "You want to run that one by me again?"

Buffy softly traced his cheekbone with her finger. "You heard me." Buffy felt the last of her trepidation fade away. She knew Spike loved all of her—Slayer and Buffy—and she wanted him to know she loved all of him, too—man and demon. She pressed her lips against his ear. "Come on, baby. I want to feel your fangs inside me." She nipped at his earlobe. "Show me your sexy bite."

Spike shivered, her words going straight to his groin. He decided then that even if the chip did go off, he didn't care. Any amount of migraine would be well worth a taste of her sweet blood, her willing flesh. "I want that too, Buffy. I want it so much."

Buffy tilted her head, sweeping her hair to the side, exposing the tender column of her neck. "Then take it."

As tempting as it was to Spike to take her up on her offer right then, he wanted to do this right. He wasn't optimistic enough to think that Buffy would make letting him bite her a regular thing, and he didn't want to blow what could be his only chance by jumping straight to the fangs. He gave her neck a gentle lick before pulling away, smiling at Buffy's look of confusion when he did so. "Not quite yet, kitten," he told her. "Want to be inside you in another way first."

Buffy smiled back at him, deciding that's what she wanted, too. She took his hands, walking backwards to the bed and leading him along with her. Once there, she slid up to the pillows, lying down and watching Spike through hooded eyes.

Spike sucked in a deep, shuddering breath as he watched her, spread out on his bed, bathed in near-ethereal light. She was a vision—his golden goddess. "Buffy, I love you."

"I know. Now come here and show me."

Spike took off his t-shirt and boots before crawling up the bed to his lover. He rested on his arms above her, looking down into passion-darkened hazel eyes. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, wanting to make sure one last time that this was really what she wanted.

"Yes. I trust you, William."

Hearing those whispered words meant even more to Spike than hearing her declarations of love, and he swore to himself that—even without a soul—he would never do anything to make her regret placing that trust in him. He gave her a slight nod, letting her know that he understood the weight of her words, before he proceeded to undress her, slowly revealing her soft, golden skin to his hungry eyes.

Buffy sighed as he kissed her now-bare skin, lavishing attention on every inch he could see. When she'd asked him to bite her, she'd expected him to be rough, to take her like a demon. Instead, he was showing her care and restraint, making her tremble under his intense yet loving worship of her body.

As Spike's ministrations continued, the rough denim of his jeans began to feel too harsh against Buffy's over-sensitized skin, and she felt desperate to have his cool flesh against her. She reached between them, fumbling with his belt and button fly for a moment before undoing them both, Spike raising his hips to let her push the jeans down enough for him to kick them the rest of the way off.

Spike continued to work her body until her moans and the movements of her hips became desperate, and he knew it was time to give into their shared need. He positioned himself at her entrance, waiting until, through her haze, Buffy was able to lock her eyes with his. Her gaze never wavered as his shifted from blue to gold, the love never leaving her face.

Even with his demon in the foreground, Spike continued to show restraint. He made love to Buffy slowly, moving in and out of her with controlled, measured strokes. Buffy held on to him tightly, her skin flushed and her breathing labored. When Spike could tell Buffy was moving closer to the brink, he changed his pace, pushing in faster, harder.

As the first twinges of her orgasm fluttered around him, he leaned down, sinking his fangs into her neck with passionate tenderness. He took the first taste of her, and she screamed in pleasure, her inner muscles pulling his release into her as he pulled her blood into him.

When Buffy came down, Spike was still on top of her, licking the wounds on her neck closed with his rough tongue. She reached up, her arm shaky, and stroked his hair. He nuzzled against her neck. "That was even more incredible than I thought it would be."

Spike looked up at her, his features human again. "You enjoyed it then?"

"Oh, yes. It was…" She scrunched her nose, trying to think, then smiled, cupping his cheek. "There aren't words to describe how incredible that was. And you didn't hurt me at all."

"Then do you, um…think you'll let me do it again some time?"

"Oh god, yes."

Spike kissed her deeply before propping himself up on his arms, thrusting into her again. Buffy gasped. "Already?"

Spike gave her a crooked grin. "Slayer's blood, pet." He winked.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" She flipped them over, leaning over Spike and grinding her hips against his. "Then let's see just how potent it really is."

*** *** ***

Buffy lay in Spike's arms, completely sated, a small smile tugging at her lips. She reached up, running her fingers against the red puncture wounds from where he had bitten her earlier. She realized where they were and rolled her eyes.

"You bit over Angel's marks."

Spike shrugged. "Well, yeah. Couldn't have some other vamp's marks on my girl."

"Who said I was your girl?"

"Buffy…"

Buffy smiled, shaking her head. "Kidding, Spike."

He managed to look relieved and glare at the same time. "Not bloody funny, Slayer."

"It was a little. I liked seeing your eyes get that wide."

"And they say I'm the evil one," Spike grumbled.

Buffy took his hand, placing it over the red, marred skin of her neck. "I'm your girl now, Spike. These prove it."

Spike ran his fingers over them, his touch making her shiver. "Buffy, I know that I have a habit of doing some well, really dumb things, and that I tend to bollocks everything up a lot, but I won't even let you down, pet. I promise I'll do everything I can to be what you deserve."

"I know, Spike. And you are. What you did—for Dawn—when I was gone, the way you treated me when I came back, the way you treated me tonight—you've proven to me that you can be something more than a monster. I told you earlier that I trust you, and I meant that."

Spike knew there were tears in his eyes, and he cursed himself for always being such a git when it came to love. "I won't let you down, Buffy. I swear on everything I am, everything I can be, I won't."

Buffy pressed his head against her chest and kissed the top of his hair. "I know, baby."

Spike let the steady rise and fall of her breathing lull him to sleep.

*** *** ***

"Is Buffy back yet?"

Tara looked up from where Dawn was peeking over the banister. "No."

Dawn sighed. "Spike better bring her home tonight. I know they like to sneak off to his crypt after patrol and do things that my young mind should not even begin to contemplate, but…"

"They'll be here," Willow said. "I talked to Spike. He said he'd keep her out long enough to let us set up, and then he'd bring her home. No patrol hanky panky." Willow shook her head, trying to clear those thoughts from her mind.

There was the sound of a key in the door, and everyone froze. Dawn ran from the stairs to the living room, joining the others. Buffy walked into the house, Spike not far behind her. She walked into the living room, frowning when she saw the decorations. She whispered to Spike "So this is why you made me come home. I'll get you later." Then out loud, to the rest of the group, "I thought I requested no more Buffy birthdays."

"Aw, come on, Buff. You're twenty-one. That's milestone," Xander said.

"Yes," Anya agreed from his side. "You can drink now. Legally."

"But the bad birthday tradition…" Buffy whined, visions of apocalypses dancing in her head.

"I say it's high time we break that tradition," Giles said.

"I'm with Giles," Willow replied. "No badness tonight. Just friends and…" She smiled, shaking a small, wrapped box. "And presents."

Buffy's eyes lit up then. "Oooh. Presents. Presents are good." She plopped down on the couch between Willow and Tara. "Can I have the presents now?"

"Whatever the birthday girl wants," Willow replied, handing one to Buffy.

Spike watched as Buffy opened her gifts from her friends, a playful glint in her eyes. He turned to Giles. "Sometimes I wonder if maybe not all that spell wore off."

Giles smirked. "She does still seem to have that young girl squeal down pat."

Spike nodded, chucking to himself as Dawn blamed her homemade present on Buffy's refusal to let her get a part time job. Buffy hugged her sister, telling her anything from her wonderful. Spike smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his long-dead body at the sight of his girls. He'd do anything for the Summers women, and he made sure every day that they knew it.

"You really love them, don't you?"

Giles's almost-whispered question startled Spike. "Yeah, I do."

"I didn't approve of you and Buffy at first—still don't really—but I think, in a way, you're good for her. You make her smile. I…I hadn't seen Buffy really smile in a long time."

"All I want is for her to be happy."

"I know." Giles paused. "But if you hurt her…"

"I know the drill, Watcher. But don't worry—I hurt Buffy, and I walk into the next sunrise myself."

"Good. Save me the trouble." Giles gave Spike a smile just warm enough to be cordial, but that also let Spike know without a doubt that the other man was entirely serious in his threats.

"Spike, come here! Look at this—Xander made me a weapons chest!"

"I helped with the varnish," Anya said.

Spike gave Giles a nod, then went to Buffy, kneeling beside her. "There's slots for my daggers," Buffy said with a big smile. She jumped up, hugging Xander tightly. "You're the bestest best carpenter friend ever."

Xander chuckled. "Thanks. Glad you like it."

"Good craftsmanship, Harris," Spike agreed.

"Nice to know I'm good at something," Xander replied with a smirk. He hated to admit it, but when Spike wasn't trying to kill him, the guy wasn't half bad.

"So is there cake?" Buffy asked, getting into the birthday mode despite her earlier protests. "The birthday girl wants cake."

"I'll go get it," Tara said. "Willow, come help me with the candles?"

"Great," Dawn muttered as the two witches went into the kitchen. "Now it'll be forever until we see any baked goodness…"

"I'll go in there and supervise," Anya said with her usual bright grin. "Make sure they don't start having sex and let the ice cream melt."

Buffy leaned against Spike, letting him hold her loosely around the waist. She kissed his cheek before looking around the room at her friends—her family. She smiled, contentment washing over her.

It may not be Heaven, but it was certainly the next best thing.

*** *** ***

That night, Buffy lay in her bed with Spike beside her. "Definitely the best Buffy birthday ever," she said, a sleepy, dreamy expression her face. "I got to midnight without and destruction or mayhem."

"Well, there was a bit of mayhem during the charades incident…" Spike replied.

Buffy groaned. "Could we please not talk about that—ever, ever again?"

"Suits me just fine, pet," Spike replied. From beside his head, came a loud rumbling purr. "I think Larry agrees, too."

"That's Frank."

"Whatever." Spike was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. "I never gave you your present."

Buffy rubbed against him. "I thought that was my present."

"No, that was just me taking advantage of a slightly tipsy recent twenty-one year old," Spike replied.

"Oh," Buffy replied with a giggle. "Well, it was definitely to my advantage, too."

Spike got out of the bed, despite Buffy's protests, and went to his duster across the room. He reached into the pocket, then came back to the bed with a small, black velvet box. "Here."

Buffy opened it, tears springing to her eyes as she saw what was inside. She took out the small silver and garnet ring, similar to the one she had given to him. Inside was an inscription, responding to what was on his ring.

Never forget. Love, William.

"Do you like it?" Spike asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. Buffy handed it back to him, and his face fell. "You don't…"

Buffy shook her head. "I do. I…" She sniffed. "Put it on me, you big idiot."

Spike smiled then, relief coursing through him. He kissed her left hand softly before slipping the ring onto her finger. He knew the symbolism of the act, but Buffy didn't protest. She wore his mark on her neck—she may as well wear his ring, too.

They lay back down, Buffy resting her hand on his chest, regarding the ring. "Thank you, Spike. It's…it's beautiful."

"I was afraid you wouldn't like it," Spike admitted. "Thought it might be…I don't know, too much of a commitment thing for you."

"This is a commitment thing, Spike. You have total-commito Buffy." She playfully poked his chest. "You're stuck with me, mister."

"I can think of worse fates."

Buffy smiled. She kissed Spike's chest gently once before settling down and closing her eyes. "Love you," she murmured as she drifted off.

"Love you, too," Spike replied. "Always."

*** *** ***

That's the end. There is no more. Well, of this fic anyway. I have lots more plot bunnies, threatening my life if I don't listen to them and get to writing. (Anya was so right about the bunnies…)

Leave a review and let me know what you thought. Or you can write me an email. I love getting email. It makes my day. ^-^