She walked quickly around the various tables while pushing her pad back into the front pocket of her apron.

"Give me one iced coffee, with sugar and whole milk, two expressos and two medium cappuccinos skim milk."

She told the young man behind the counter picking up a tray and setting on a stool while she waited for her order.

Her gaze scanned the almost empty coffee shop. Usually, she would be grateful for the current situation. It gave her time to rest a bit, but not today. Free time equalled time to think and that lead to surfacing of bad, bad memories.

She had spent the entire week avoiding Harmony. Sneaking into bed at nine o’clock on Sunday so she wouldn’t have to talk to her when she came back home, waking up one hour earlier so she could leave the apartment before the ex-cheerleader was up and staying an extra hour after work was finished.

The new routine was killing her but she couldn’t face Harmony. The only time they had met had been on Wednesday night when Buffy came home. She entered the apartment to find her roommate lounging on the couch watching TV.

"Hey." She had greeted her with extra peppiness. "Where have you been? Haven’t seen you all week."

"Working. I’m tired, I better get some sleep. Night." Buffy had muttered in one quick breath before locking herself in her room.

Now it was Friday, and there was no way she was going to be able to avoid her roommate during the entire weekend. Even if she did go home, she would still have to pass by the apartment to take some clothes with her.

Letting out another sigh she turned to find her order ready on the counter.

"Thanks." She forced a smile as she picked up the cups and took them to the table.

Coming back with an empty tray she sat on the stool and cursed the fact that she didn’t have more customers.

"Kinda slow today, isn’t it?"

She jumped up at the familiar voice.

"Willow! What are you doing here?" Buffy asked with the first genuine smile all week.

"Got out of classes early, decided to come by and see how you’re doing." The redhead replied taking a seat next to her friend.

"I haven’t seen you in weeks."

"I-I know." Willow stuttered. "I’m sorry. I’ve been kinda busy with classes and… um…"

"Partying hard?" Buffy finished the sentence for her, raising an eyebrow.

"P-partying? Me?"

"I know all about it." Buffy replied with a smirk.

Willow turned bright red and stammered:

"Y-you know? H-how?"

"Xander and Anya told me." She replied nonchalantly.

"X-Xander?"

"Yeah. He was at the Bronze last week and saw you." Buffy explained.

Willow remained silent with large eyes.

"He told me you were there with your roommate. You guys were just leaving. I guess Tara is a big party person, huh?" Buffy continued, frowning when she noticed Willow visibly relax.

"T-Tara? A party person? No. Not really. We just wanted to celebrate the A I got in psych 101." Willow explained. "I was the one who convinced her to go."

"Oh!" Buffy nodded in agreement as suddenly a strange silence settled between them.

They tried to avoid each other’s gaze, scanning the coffee shop as the stillness dragged on.

‘I can’t believe it. I’m having an awkward silent moment with Willow. With Willow! We always have stuff to talk about. Xander’s constantly trying to shut us up. What’s going on?’

The minutes ticked at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Hey, kid? You still here?"

Her boss’ voice caused Buffy to jump up.

"Hey, Whistler." She replied, exhaling.

"I thought I told you to take Friday off." He short man continued, walking around the bar.

"I know. I just thought I’d lend a hand."

"Yeah, seeing as the Expresso Pump is just bursting with clients." He retorted.

"Well, it might get crowded, yet." Buffy insisted with a pout.

"Right." Whistler huffed as he stepped into the back room.

"My boss." Buffy explained turning to Willow.

"I guessed that much."

And yet again the silence filtered its way through the two friends. Eventually, as it became too much to bare Buffy spoke up:

"Is everything ok, Willow?" At her friend’s strange look, she added: "I mean… with us."

"Sure." She tried to sound nonchalant in her statement, but her voice came out feeble and insecure.

"Oh… ok." Buffy dropped her shoulders and they drifted into silence again.

Buffy was carefully analysing the suddenly fascinating floor when she spotted out of the corner of her eye a flash of blonde.

"Oh, my God." Buffy breathed, eyes widening.

"What?" Willow frowned as she watched her best friend frantically looking right and left until she settled for rushing behind the counter, in small, hurried steps and ducking. "Buffy?" The redhead asked looking over the smooth surface to find Buffy crouch next to a beer keg.

"Hey." Buffy greeted the bartender, with a quick wave and a nervous smile.

The boy simply raised his eyebrow and returned his attention to the cappuccino machine. There was no need to get alarmed. In the two weeks she’d been working here, this was definitely one of Buffy’s less eccentric moves.

"Buffy, what are you doing there?" Willow asked.

"Harmony and boink-boy. They’re here." She hissed her answer.

Willow looked up and scanned the room to find Harmony walking across the coffee shop; an ever black-clad Spike reluctantly trailing behind her.

"Oh, yeah. They’re coming this way."

"Oh, my God. Don’t tell them I’m here."

"Why?" Willow’s brow furrowed again.

"Please!" Buffy pleaded from her cocoon.

"Hey, Willow." Harmony’s peppy voice caused Willow to snap her neck towards her.

"H-Hey." The redhead stuttered.

She didn’t really know if it was because of the fright or because of the fact that Harmony had actually gotten her name right.

"Is Buffy here?"

"Er…" She hesitated before uttering: "No?"

Buffy cringed at Willow’s response. It was incredible just how bad of a liar she was.

"No." She repeated with a little more conviction. In the meantime, her eyes moved from the blonde in front of her to the man standing behind her, tapping his foot impatiently as he stared at the floor.

"Well, isn’t she supposed to be working here or something?" Harmony asked.

"Um… yes. She… um…" Willow struggled with an excuse as her attention returned to Harmony. "She got the day off!" She finally blurted.

"Oh! So she’s not here, then?"

Willow frowned.

"Yeah, that’s normally what happens when you get the day off." She paused. "You tend to try and spend your time somewhere other than your workplace." She rationalized.

"Right." Harmony nodded.

"Yeah." Willow agreed trying to prevent any chance of silence settling in between the three of them. It would just be too awkward.

"Well, if you see her can you tell her I *really* need to speak to her."

"Sure."

"It’s cause I want to have sex with Spike this weekend and-"

"Harm!" Spike finally spoke up at the same time as Willow and Buffy cringed.

"Oh, sorry blondie bear!" She apologized in a babyish tone, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before turning around and whispering: "Spike says he can’t if Buffy’s there. Apparently it’s rude or something. Go figure!"

"Go figure." Willow agreed dumbstruck by the blonde’s complete lack of social skills.

"So, I just wanted to know if she’s gonna spend the weekend at her mom’s." She asked cheerfully.

"I-I really don’t know." Willow replied still a bit a stunned.

"Oh, that’s ok. Just tell her if you see her ok?"

"O-Ok."

And with that Willow was left sitting at the bar as the two blondes parted.

"Are they gone?" Buffy whispered from her hiding place.

"No. They’re sitting down at a table."

Buffy exhaled sharply before crawling her way towards the backdoor when suddenly it opened.

"Summers? What are you doing?" Whistler asked when he found Buffy on all fours in front of him.

"Hey, Whistler!" She greeted with a plastic smile that showed almost all her teeth. "I’m taking your advice. I think I’m gonna take the day off."

"O-k." He nodded with a frown as he watched her crawl away from him, stand up and run out of the establishment. Willow trailed quickly behind her. "You should consider getting some therapy too." He shouted at her departing form.

~+~

"God, the audacity!" Willow exclaimed as the two walked through campus. "She’s practically kicking you out of the apartment for the weekend so she can boink loverboy." She paused for a second then cocked an eyebrow adding: "Actually, in a weird way, that’s an improvement considering that before she didn’t even care if you were in the apartment and could hear their grunting marathon. It’s just scary what can be regarded as an improvement with Harmony."

Buffy simply nodded and continued to walk.

"Are you ok?"

"Fine."

"Oh, God! It’s worst than I thought!"

"What?" Buffy frowned turning to look at her best friend.

"Every time you say ’fine’ it means everything’s a mess and you’re nearing an emotional meltdown." Willow explained.

"I’m not having a meltdown." Buffy assured her. "I’m just… having a slight emotional crisis."

"What’s wrong?" Willow asked.

Buffy walked a few more steps in silence before she spoke.

"I went to a party with Parker… last Saturday. Some pre-Halloween thing."

"Oh, I heard about that one. A girl from the dorm went to it and got completely trashed."

"Well, I got kinda tipsy myself and decided to get back home. So we get home and start watching a movie and-"

"Oh, my God! You and Parker did the nasty!" Willow exclaimed loudly, causing the couple that was walking past them to turn and look.

"A little louder, please." Buffy whispered sardonically.

Shrinking, in shame, the redhead muttered: "Sorry. Go on."

"Parker and I didn’t do the nasty. We were about to, when boink-boy interrupted."

"He saw you naked."

"No!" Buffy denied immediately. "He didn’t see me naked. I heard him coming into the apartment and went to check who it was. I thought it was Harmony, coming back from her parents. Turned out to be *it*. And *it* was going through my clothes."

"He went into your room?" Willow asked confused.

"What? No. My clothes were on the couch, in the living room. Mine and Parker’s." Buffy explained.

"How did boink-boy get in the apartment in the first place?"

"Harmony probably gave him the key. She doesn’t even know him all that well. She’s known him for two months and already he has the key. I mean, just because he’s Mr. Orgasm doesn’t mean he can’t be a total psycho." Buffy let out a sigh after her mini-rant. "Anyway, he was rude and hateful, as always. Saying Parker had tricked me into sleeping with him by getting me drunk. Which is a total lie, I wasn’t drunk anymore! A-and he said I was desperate."

"What did you do?"

"I told him to leave. Told him Harmony had left to spend the weekend with her parents so he could just leave. I was all noble and determined not to sink to his level. But he just kept on pushing with his stupid eyes and that disgustingly annoying smirk. You know the one that guys do, pulling their mouth to the side like this." Buffy exemplified and Willow nodded. "Next thing I know we’re screaming at the top of our lungs, calling each other names." She paused. "He called me an obnoxious little brat." She pouted.

"And Parker didn’t do anything?" Willow questioned with a frown.

"Parker wasn’t even there. He was in my room." Buffy explained kicking a rock off the pavement as she remembered the small details of the evening.

"Alright, but didn’t he come out when he heard you guys?"

"Maybe he didn’t hear."

"You said you were shouting off the top of your lungs." Willow pointed out.

"That’s right." Buffy frowned, stopping in her tracks. "He should have heard us. I mean, the apartment has terrible sound isolation. I should know."

"Maybe he heard but didn’t want to interfere." Willow offered.

"No. I talked to him afterwards and he didn’t mention anything. Why would he lie?" Buffy paused for a few seconds before she resumed walking. "That’s odd." She noted and Willow nodded.

She gave it another few seconds of consideration but, when she failed to come up with an answer, she simply made a note to herself to ask Parker about it and continued:

"Anyway, we’re screaming and insulting each other. I said I hated him, he said it was mutual and then…" She looked at her best friend as she continued: "He kissed me."

"He what?!" Willow stopped dead in her tracks.

"He kissed me. He pinned me against the door and kissed me."

"You kissed boink-boy?"

"I said he kissed me." Buffy pouted in protest.

"You pushed him away?" Willow offered.

"No." Buffy responded bowing her head in shame.

"So you just stood there frozen in panic and did nothing."

"Not exactly." She whispered.

"What did you do?"

"I sorta responded."

"What does *sorta* mean?" Willow frowned.

"I kinda kissed back." Buffy’s gaze was buried on the floor.

"Kinda?"

"Alright!" She gave in. "So I kissed him. I was drunk!"

"You said you weren’t drunk anymore. That’s why Parker didn’t trick you into bed." Willow pointed out.

Buffy paused before muttering:

"I hate you… Why do you actually listen to everything I say?" She grumbled as she began walking again.

"Did you like it?" Willow asked.

"Willow! Of course not! He’s Harmony’s boyfriend. And even if he wasn’t he’s… disgusting."

"I don’t know. He looked kinda cute."

"I’m sticking with disgusting." Buffy insisted.

"So you didn’t like it?"

"No."

"Then why did you kiss him back?"

"Willow! You’re supposed to be ‘supportive-girlfriend’ here. Stop rationalizing so much. I’ve got my conscience doing that for me 24/7 since Saturday. God! I can’t even look at Harmony." She sighed.

"Sorry." Willow said apologetically.

"It’s ok. I just hate this whole situation…" She mumbled.

They walked in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Willow spoke:

"So that’s boink-boy, huh?"

"Yeah."

"He’s cute."

"Willow! He’s disgusting." She corrected.

"Right. Disgusting." Willow agreed. "And he’s really pale. Looks like a thin snowman wrapped up in evil, black leather."

"Yeah. I’m surprised he was actually out during the day. I thought he’d disintegrate under direct sunlight, or something." She mocked and the two girls laughed as they continued to make their way through campus.

His feet were propped up on the coffee table, his arms crossed over his chest as he lay on the couch. His eyes were focussed on the screen, but it was clear that his mind was elsewhere.

His leg slipped between hers, parting them and partially opening the robe. He pressed against her pelvis and felt her moan into his mouth.

‘What am I doing?’ He thought, but his body just kept pushing hers against the wooden frame of the door.

God, the way she tasted was… It was the most-

"I can’t believe you’re watching that crappy show again?" Harmony’s sharp voice snapped him from his memory as she walked into the living room in her robe and plopped down next to him.

"It’s not crappy. It’s Passions." He mumbled between his teeth, not even dispensing her a glance.

"It’s crap." She insisted cuddling up against his side.

She laid her head on his left arm, staring jadedly at the TV screen. It didn’t last long. Soon her lips were trailing along his skin, making their way up to his neck. Spike remained unaware of her actions. Even as her tongue swept up the column of flesh to reach his earlobe, his eyes and attention remained focused on the flickering images.

He turned his head to the right, pushing deeper into her mouth, frantically caressing her tongue with his while his hands drug into the fabric of her robe that covered the small of her back.

‘Is she naked under that?’ He felt his heart skip a beat at the question.

Trying to provoke him, Harmony moaned against his ear. He always liked that. But there was no reaction.

She moaned as he continued to kiss her.

"Spike!" She whined; sighing loudly as she reluctantly sat up straight.

"Uh?" He muttered without so much as a glance in her direction.

"Are we gonna spend the entire weekend watching TV?" She grumbled.

She waited a while for an answer, when it didn’t come she moved in and bit his earlobe.

"Oy! Watch it!" He protested, with a deep frown over his eyebrows as his fingers came up to nurse his wound.

"I said: ‘Are we gonna spend the entire weekend watching TV?’" She repeated, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Course not." He replied, his eyes back on the screen.

"Well, that’s all we did last night." She grumbled. "Correction! That’s all *you* did last night."

He didn’t answer.

"SPIKE!" She shouted.

"Hey! Stop it!" He yelled back, while his hand covered his tender ear.

Before he knew it, Harmony moved forward, grabbing the remote from the table and turning the TV off.

"Oy! I was watching that!"

"And now you’re not!"

"What do you want?" He asked after a few seconds of staring at her.

"I wanna make love." She whined.

Spike cringed, he hated when she called it that.

"We haven’t done it in over a week. A *week*."

"Well, I wanna watch my soap." He said, reaching for the remote, but Harmony quickly hid it behind her back. "Harm, give it back."

"No."

"Harm!" He warned her.

"Nope." She repeated with a giggle as his body covered hers in his attempt to retrieve the remote.

"Give it-"

He wasn’t able to complete the sentence as her mouth attacked his; her arms circled his neck, forcing him closer. He struggled a bit, but eventually succumbed to her assault. Maybe sleeping with her would help get his mind off… her.

Crawling over Harmony’s body, effectively burying her under his weight, he parted his lips and slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She smiled into the kiss. Finally some action! It had been a long week!

She moaned against him as he abandoned her mouth and trailed down her neck.

"Oh! Spike!" She gasped.

He stopped at that. God, her voice was annoying. But as her legs wrapped around his waist he sighed and resumed kissing her.

Seconds later.

"Spike!"

That was it! In a flash he was sitting up straight, remote in hand and turning on the TV.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Harmony asked still a bit breathless.

"Watching telly." He answered, eyes focused on the screen once again.

"But-"

"Later, Harm!" He replied.

"But I wanna make love." She pouted, crawling across the couch and straddling his hips.

"I don’t." He replied curtly.

"Well…" She started in a babyish tone. "I know someone who wants to." She said mischievously, as she slipped her hand into his pants. "I know little Spikey wants to play, doesn’t he?"

Her smile crumbled in a flash when she failed to find little Spikey ‘ready for action’.

"I guess little Spikey wants to watch Passions too." He retorted with a smirk, pushing her off of his lap and onto the spot on the couch next to him.

~+~

"Hey, sweetie. How did you sleep?" Mrs. Summers asked when she saw her eldest daughter dragging her feet into the living room.

"Not so great." She replied with a sleepy yawn.

"Not so great? It’s one in the afternoon." Joyce noted as she continued to fold the laundry.

"Well, that’s cause I only fell asleep at 6 am." She explained, plopping down on the couch.

"You’ve been having trouble sleeping?"

"A little."

"Is something wrong, honey?" Joyce asked a bit concerned, stopping her folding.

Buffy paused a bit, considering what to do. What was she supposed to say? That she wasn’t able to sleep because a stupid kiss insisted on popping into her head and robbing her to have any peace of mind. It probably wasn’t a good idea, especially considering that said kiss was shared with her roommate’s boy-toy. Definitely *not* a good idea!

"Nothing’s wrong, mom. Just too stressed to sleep, you know? College and such."

"Are you sure?" Joyce insisted, running her hand over her daughter’s forehead.

"I’m sure." Buffy smiled, resting against her mother’s warm touch.

~+~

The cold water splashed against his skin as he brought his hands against his cheeks. Shaking his head he looked up to find his mirrored image looking back at him. He stared at it for a few seconds. What was happening to him? He picked up the towel and dried his face and put it back on the metallic rail. He let out a long sigh before leaving the bathroom and heading for her bedroom.

Carefully, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. The room was completely dark except for the frail lines of cobalt light that filtered between the window shutters. The lighting wasn’t much, but enough for him to find his way around the familiar room. Silently, he walked the small distance to the bed, where the covers twisted over a sleeping form.

Good. She was asleep. Finally! He thought she’d never give up. He had stayed glued to the TV set all day and well into the night. He looked to his right to find the red lights from the alarm clock. It read 4:32 am. He had never watched TV for so many hours in a row. 14 hours - it was a new record for him. The first three had been easy, but after the fourth it had been torture. It was amazing just how much crap was on TV nowadays.

He really didn’t know why he simply hadn’t up and left the apartment. It would be a perfect resolution to his problem. No more Harm hanging around his neck, trying to sleep with him every single second of the day.

"You’re off your rocker, mate." He said to himself in a low voice as he unbuttoned his shirt. Passing up opportunities to sleep with someone like Harmony was definitely not a habit of his. And not one he wanted to pick up either. But ever since… "Bloody hell!" He growled a little too loudly, causing the sleeping figure lying on the bed to stir.

He stood perfectly still, waiting. When he felt sure that she was still asleep he continued to undress and carefully slipped between the covers. She moved again and he held his breath.

‘Bugger. Why the hell am I holding my breath?’ He asked himself angrily. ‘I should be waking her and shagging her brains out, not staying up late watching telly so I can sneak into bed without her knowing. Bloody idiot!’

He lay perfectly still when she came to spoon against his side.

‘You’re doing it again, you bleeding poof!’ He scolded himself.

Inhaling sharply he forced himself into action. Turning on his side, he faced her. Giving himself one last mental push he came closer, brushing his lips against hers. She stirred and he wrapped his arms around her, bring her closer to his body.

"Um…"

He seized the opportunity and slipped his tongue into her mouth when she moaned.

Harmony partially opened her eyes to find a glimpse of blonde hair caught by one of the few lines of light that lit the darkened room. She responded as he deepened the kiss and rolled her over so she was lying on top of him.

His hands brushed down her back, around the curve of her hips and over the smooth skin of her outer thigh to slip under her slick negligee. He tried to ignore the annoyance growing inside of him when he heard her moan out his name and continued kissing her.

She parted her legs, straddling his hips while nibbling on his lower lip.

"Oh, Sp-"

He attacked her mouth just in the nick of time, his hand finding the back of her neck and pushing her against him.

"Ah!" She gasped when he finally let her up and started trailing kissed down her neck. "Oh, Spike. I missed you so-"

She was cut off once again as Spike suddenly flipped them over. His fingers twisted around the string of her thong and pulled it down her thighs leaving her in only the negligee.

She smiled and let her hands roam over his chiselled chest, dropping lower to feel his hard abdomen before diving between his thighs.

The smirk crumbled when, once again, she found that even though big Spikey seem to be up for action, little Spike still seemed as uninterested as that afternoon.

Something was definitely off. Ever since they had started going out, Spike had always been up for it. Always! In the morning, in the shower, in the kitchen while they were heating up lunch, in the car, everywhere and every time he was always up for it. And now all, of a sudden…

But she wasn’t about to give up that easy. Oh no!

Her hand dove between his thighs again; fingers smoothly brushing over the sensitive skin, toying with him.

Five, ten minutes went by and…

The two lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling which was painted in shades of orange by the light coming from the bedside lamp. The warm colour conflicted painfully with the bright pink surface.

"What happened?" Harmony broke the horrible silence that had been building up for the last minutes.

"Don’t know." He grumbled between clenched teeth.

Silence…

"I-it’s normal. That’s what people always say, right? I-it’s normal?" Harmony tried again.

"Well, not for me." He growled as he stood up, picking up his clothes and putting them on.

"Where are you going?" She asked, sitting up and hugging the blanket against her chest.

"Home." He replied curtly turning around and leaving.

"Spike." She called out in the empty room as she heard the front door slam closed.

~+~

Buffy pushed the door open and entered the apartment. She dropped her heavy bag next to the kitchen counter and walked into the darkened living room. The TV was on and flickered light into the room.

"Harmony!" She called out shoving her keys into the back pocket of her jeans.

"Hey." A muffled voice came from the couch.

Buffy frowned when she found the ex-cheerleader sprawled on the sofa, a big bowl of "Cookies ‘n’ Cream" in her hand and a variety of chips and chocolate bars scattered over the coffee table.

"Harmony? Are you ok?" Buffy asked coming to sit next to her. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing." She grumbled.

"What do you mean nothing?"

"I mean nothing!"

"Oh! So binge-fest is just because this month’s Vogue announced that the malnourished drug addict look is out and big fat cow is in?" Buffy asked sarcastically.

"You think I’m a big fat cow?" Harmony questioned looking up with tear-filled eyes.

"What? No." Buffy changed her attitude instantly, but it was too late.

"You think I’m a fat cooow!" Harmony suddenly bawled.

"No, that’s not what-"

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence as her roommate got off the couch and scurried into her bedroom, but not without take the bowl of ice-cream and a couple bags of chips with her.

"Harmony!" Buffy called after her, standing up and rushing over to the closed door.

She knocked.

"Go away!" Was the cried out reply she got.

"Harmony!" Buffy insisted.

When she tried to turn the knob she found that the door was locked.

"Harmony, open the door." She asked.

"No! Go away!" Harmony repeated.

"Harmony, let me in."

"Go away, go away, go away!"

"Harmony!"

This time there was no reply.

"Harmony!"

Nothing.

After a couple of minutes Buffy gave up, walking towards the living room.

What had happened?

‘Probably boinkboy’

She paused. What was she thinking? Probably? Of course it was boinkboy. What else could upset Harmony like that? Nothing and no one but boinkboy.

She sighed as she started picking up the empty cartons and bags of chips.

Her fingers worked quickly to untie the apron.

"Whistler." Buffy called and within seconds the door that lead to the back opened and the short man was standing behind the counter, in front of her.

"You’re off, kid?" He asked.

"Yeah. If it’s alright with you." She answered, placing the apron on the counter.

"Sure." He nodded as he picked up a towel and started drying a beer mug.

"See you." Buffy smiled and was halfway across the coffee shop before she turned around and leaned over the counter. "Are you sure you’ll be ok without me for the Halloween weekend? Cause I can stay, you know? I know it’s a very busy time here and-"

"Hey, kid." Whistler interrupted her. "Relax. I think I can handle one Friday without your prized waitressing skills."

"Are you sure?" Buffy insisted, feeling a little bit guilty about leaving him alone for the busy weekend ahead. "I mean it’s Halloween and-"

"I’m sure. Now, will you go already?" He asked, lifting one eyebrow and curling his mouth to the side.

A huge grin spread over her lips.

"Thanks, Whistler." She said, leaning over the counter and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "You’re the best."

"Yeah, I know. I’m perfect." He sighed in false modesty.

"Bye." Buffy waved back as she walked away.

"Say hi to your mom for me." He shouted at her retreating form.

"I will." She yelled back.

She really didn’t understand why he always said that every time she went home for the weekend. He didn’t even know her mom. But she had stopped caring and simply conditioned her automatic reply.

~+~

She rushed into the apartment, throwing the keys on the counter and heading straight to her room. After a few minutes she had her bag packed and was about to leave her bedroom when her phone rang. With a sigh she picked it up.

"Hello."

"Hi, Buffy. It’s me."

"Hey, Wills." She replied cheerfully.

"You’re in a good mood." Willow noted.

"I’m going home for the weekend." Buffy explained.

"But it’s Thursday."

"I know. But I only have one class tomorrow, which is not too important so I decided to ditch it for some quality mom and daughter time."

"What about the Expresso Pump?"

"I asked Whistler if I could take Friday off and he said it was ok. To compensate for the extra hours I’ve been working the last couple of weeks." Buffy explained gleefully.

"So you’re spending Halloween at home? You’re not gonna go out and party?" Willow wondered.

"No. I’m not really in a partying mood, you know?"

"Harmony making your life miserable again?"

"Actually, no. If you can believe it. Ever since Sunday everything’s been calm around here. I hardly see her. She’s either out or locked up in her room."

"No more boinkboy?"

"Nope. I think boinkboy is out of the picture for good. Thank God!" Buffy sighed in relief.

"And you still don’t know what happened?"

"I have no idea. She won’t talk to me. God, I can’t even imagine what that idiot did to upset her like that!"

"Maybe they just broke it off." Willow offered.

"Yeah. He probably got tired of her and dumped her. That arrogant little twit." Buffy growled.

"At least you’ll be able to have a semi-normal life now. Well, as normal as it gets being Harmony’s roommate."

"Yeah, I guess I will."

"So you’re really spending Halloween at you’re mom’s? What about Parker? Hasn’t he called?"

"Not once." Buffy mumbled, twirling the phone cord between her fingers. "I tried calling him a couple of times on the cell phone but he didn’t answer. I think he’s avoiding me." She pouted.

"Do you think it’s because he saw-"

"Willow, I thought we agreed we wouldn’t mention that freak accident ever again."

"Sorry." Willow apologised meekly. "Maybe he’s just busy and that’s why he hasn’t called back." She tried.

"Yeah. Maybe." Buffy replied unconvinced.

There was a moment of silence between them.

"Well, I was just calling to know if you wanted to go to this Halloween party on Saturday."

"Thanks, Wills. But I think I’ll stick with the mom daughter bonding scenario."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I’m sure."

"Ok, then. I guess I’ll see you next week then."

"See you next week, Wills." And with that she set the phone down, picked up her bag and headed for the door.

~+~

"Hello, mom?" Buffy called out when she entered the darkened house.

She flipped the light switch on and the hall was flooded with the artificial light coming from the ceiling.

She glanced into the empty living room before heading the opposite direction into the kitchen. She squinted as the florescent lights came on.

"Great, I come home for a surprise visit and there is no one here." Buffy mumbled, dropping her bag and heading for the isle in the middle of the room. On the smooth surface she found a note. It had something scribbled on it and she immediately recognised her younger sister’s handwriting:

‘Mom, thanks for letting me sleep over and Janice’s. You’re the best.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Love, Dawn’

"That’s a surprise." Buffy muttered, letting the piece of paper drop onto the isle again as she headed for the fridge. She was starving. "Let’s see what we’ve got-"

She stopped in mid sentence when she heard the front door open. With a bottle of water in her hand she walked into the hall.

She frowned when she saw her mother standing at the door, waving at someone. She squinted and tried to identify the object of her mother’s attention but all she saw were the taillights of a car as it drove away.

"Hey, mom." She greeted, the frown still marring her eyebrows.

"Buffy?" Mrs. Summers exclaimed, turning around with a surprised look on her face. "What are you doing here? It’s Thursday. Don’t you have classes tomorrow?" Buffy recognised the change in her mother’s expression as the worst explanations came to mind. "Oh my God! Did something happen? Is everything alright? Is-"

"Mom, relax. Everything’s fine. I just decided to come home early for Halloween." Buffy calmed her down.

"Oh. So everything’s ok?"

"Everything’s fine." Buffy assured her.

A smile finally spread over Joyce’s lips as she crossed the hall to embrace her daughter.

"It’s great to have you home, honey. How was your week?" She asked letting go and entering the kitchen as she took off her coat.

"It was ok." Buffy shrugged taking a seat around the isle.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Joyce asked.

"No. I’m starved." Buffy said taking a sip from her water.

"I’ll cook you up something in a jiffy." Mrs. Summers said opening the fridge and inspecting its contents.

"You’ve had dinner?" Buffy wondered.

"Yeah. I had to work late tonight and since I knew Dawn was going to Janice’s slumber party I ended up eating something at the diner near the gallery." Joyce explained nonchalantly as she went about preparing dinner.

Buffy’s eyebrows furrowed once more as she tried to read her mother’s expression. After a few minutes of silence she spoke:

"Who drove you home?"

"Huh. What, sweetie?" Joyce asked.

Buffy’s frowned deepened. Was her mother hiding something from her?

"I asked who drove you home. I saw you waving at someone outside."

"Oh. That! That was just a friend." Joyce replied continuing with her cooking.

"What friend?" Buffy insisted.

"You don’t know him."

"So it’s a him." Buffy said semi-triumphantly.

"Yes, it’s a *he*." Her mother confirmed and corrected at the same time.

"And who is *he*?"

"Just someone I met while I was at the hospital." Joyce explained as she chopped some onions.

"Oh." Buffy muttered when she realised she was going to have to be more blunt about the issue. She took a few second and eventually blurted: "Are you two dating?"

Mrs. Summers choked at the question.

"W- *cough* What?"

"Are you two dating?" Buffy repeated, raising both her eyebrow.

"Of course not!" She denied vehemently. "What made you think that?"

"He’s driving you home, isn’t he? What was he doing at the gallery?"

"He wasn’t at the gallery. I bumped into him while I was at the diner. He offered to take me home. That’s all." Joyce laughed off her daughter’s suspiciousness.

"So you had dinner with him?" Buffy continued with her inquiry.

"Buffy, what is this?" Joyce stopped cutting the salad and looked up at her daughter. "Why all these questions? I’ve told you, we are just friends."

Buffy bowed her head. She really didn’t know how to react to this new development. Her mother was dating someone. It was just too… She swallowed hard and continued in a weaker voice:

"It’s just that you’re having dinner with someone." She paused. "Someone that drives you home and-and you’ve never told me about this guy. You say you met him at the hospital? What, is he a doctor or something?"

"Well, if you wanna know so much you better ask him tomorrow. He’s coming over for dinner." Joyce said matter-of-factly as she continued to prepare dinner.

Buffy simply sat at the isle, staring open-mouthed at her mother.

~+~

"So you’re mom’s dating someone?" Willow’s question came from the other side of the line.

"Yes. I mean, no!" Buffy replied a bit confused. "I mean, I don’t know. She says they’re just friends."

"Maybe that’s just what they are."

"Yeah. Right. Friends who have dinner and drive each other home." Buffy grumbled.

She wasn’t ok with this. She had had the entire night and day to think about this only to realise that she definitely wasn’t ok with it. And that really pissed her off. She was supposed to be happy for her mother. It was about time she found someone else. Ever since her father had left them all her mother did was take care of her and Dawn, go to work, come home, clean the house, make dinner, go to bed and then back up to go to work again. It was a terrible routine.

So why was this thing eating at her. God, she hated being like this. Why couldn’t she just be happy for her mother?

"So he’s coming over tonight?" Willow’s question broke through her thoughts.

"Yeah." Buffy mumbled, lying on her back staring up at the ceiling while her legs dangled off the bed. "We’re having dinner."

"You’re not too happy with this are you?"

"I don’t know what I am right now. It’s just so all of a sudden, you know? It’s weird." Buffy replied as she ran her head through her hair. "I guess I’ll just wait and see. Maybe my mom’s right, they’re just friends and I’m just being paranoid-Buffy."

"Maybe." Willow agreed.

"So, what are you doing tonight?" Buffy asked trying to change the subject.

"I’m staying home. Reading. Get my energies ready for tomorrow’s party."

"You got reading assignment, huh?"

"No. It’s just a book Tara lent me." Willow explained. "It’s sort of a psychological analysis of human behaviour disguised as a supernatural thriller. It’s pretty cool."

"A psychological analysis of human behaviour disguised as a supernatural thriller?" Buffy repeated.

"Yep. It’s fun. You should read it."

"I think it’s a little too farfetched for me."

"Buffy, are you up there?" Her mother’s voice carried through her bedroom door.

"Wait a sec, Will." She spoke into the receiver. "Yeah, mom?" Buffy shouted back.

Seconds later there was a knock on her door.

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal her mother.

"You better hurry if you still want to take that shower. Our guest will be here by seven."

"I’m coming." Buffy replied as her mom left the room. "Hello, Willow?"

"I’m here."

"I better get going. I have to shower."

"Ok. Take care."

"Bye, Wills."

She put down the receiver and picked up her towel as she walked out of the room and into the hallway.

~+~

She sat on her bed in front of her dresser, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

"Why are you making this difficult? So what if mom has a date. Maybe he’s cool. Maybe you’ll like him." She tried to give herself the pep talk.

When she finally admitted to herself that it wasn’t going to work she sighed and stood up. Holding her towel against her wet form she walked over to her closet, opened its door and stared at its contents.

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Great. He’s here." Buffy grumbled picking up a sweater and unfolding it.

She stared at it for a few seconds then dismissed it, throwing it onto her bed. After a couple of minutes her covers were buried under a pile of clothes.

"Oh, just pick anything." She chastised herself as she walked around to stand at the foot of the bed and looked at the clothes scattered on it.

The sound of her door opening caught her attention. She inhaled sharply and growled as she turned around:

"Dawn, how many times do I have to-"

She stopped in mid sentence when she failed to find her little sister and the door and instead found a familiar black-clad, bleached man standing in her place. Her eyes widened as she blurted out in unison with Spike:

"What are you doing here?!"

She shook her head, her hand instinctively coming to hold her towel closer to her body. Why was it that every time they met alone she was semi-naked? First meeting in a towel, last meeting in a robe and now it was back to the towel outfit. As she debated the issue her hand tried to stretch the fabric as much as it was possible, one holding it against her breasts while the other pulled it down to cover her legs. And why was he staring at her like that?

‘God, I hate him. Stop staring!’

He seemed to understand her predicament, when he finally snapped out of his daze, shaking his head and asking once again:

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here!" She exclaimed. "What are *you* doing her-" Her face when white as chalk as she realised: "Oh my God! You’re dating my mother?"

He turned the key, locking the car. Wiping his brow with the back of his hand he looked down at the front tire.

"Thank God for spares." He muttered before walking up the driveway.

As he reached the house, he pressed the small button on his right and the doorbell sounded. Within seconds the door opened to reveal a glass-eyed Dawn staring up at him.

"Hey, Spike!" She greeted cheerfully.

She flung herself at his neck and wrapped her arms around it, holding onto him as he twirled her around.

"Hey, Nibblet!" He greeted back when he finally set her down and walked into the house.

Joyce stood at the entrance to the kitchen.

"Hello, Spike." She greeted with a tender smile.

"Hey, Joyce." He replied.

"Mom’s making lasagna!" Dawn said overly cheerful, but she couldn’t help herself, he was gorgeous.

"Perfect." Turning to Joyce he added. "Joyce, mind if I use your bathroom." He raised his hands, showing off his oil painted palms. "Had tire trouble on the way over."

"Sure. Make yourself at home. It’s upstairs, first door on your left." She pointed up the staircase.

"I’ll take him!" Dawn exclaimed, but just as she prepared to race up the stairs a strong hand held her by her arm.

"Oh, no, young lady. You are going to set the table just like I told you to." Joyce ordered pointing into the kitchen.

"But-"

"No buts, I’m sure Spike can find his way, right Spike?"

He nodded.

"Sorry, Nibblet!" He apologized with a smile as he walked up the stairs.

He frowned when a familiar odour reached his nose, causing his nostrils to flare a bit. An image of her flashed before his eyes.

‘God, man. Hold yourself together. Now you smell her everywhere.’ He mentally scolded himself as he continued to walk up the stairs, but the image didn’t seem to want to leave him.

He came to a halt at the top, trying to remember Joyce’s indications. When he failed to recover the recent memory he simply walked down the hall and opted for the last door, at least in movies the bathroom was always at the end of the hall, right?

Turning the knob he opened the door; he froze in the middle of his stride as the familiar voice was heard:

"Dawn, how many times do I have to-"

He gawked as he watched her turn around, wrapped in the small white towel, her hair dripping down the side of her face, framing it.

‘Now I’m hallucinating too?’ His brain wondered while his mouth asked:

"What are you doing here?!"

He swallowed hard when she shook her head in confusion and her hand came to protect her exposed body. His eyes trailed along her wet and slippery form. God she was-

He stopped in mid-thought when he felt his body respond to the sight, his jeans suddenly growing too tight.

‘I’m fixed! It works!’ His brain shouted while his eyes remained glued on her.

They drifted up and down her body, her legs, her small hands pulling at the fabric of her towel, her bare shoulders, her- God, she had a gorgeous neck!, her… frown! He finally noticed it. That seemed to snap him out of his daze and he asked again:

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here!" Was her angered/confused reply. "What are *you* doing her-" He saw the instant change on her face, just before she exhaled: "Oh my God! You’re dating my mother?"

Spike frowned, he was still a bit dazed by the sudden encounter and the last question took a few seconds to seep into his brain, but when it did:

"WHAT?!" He exclaimed.

"God! Tell me you’re not dating my mother." She practically begged him.

"What? No!" He denied vehemently, shaking his head.

"Then what the *hell* are you doing here?!"

"Joyce asked me over for dinner. She wanted me to meet-" He stopped in mid sentence. "Wait a sec. You’re Joyce’s oldest kid?"

"Yes!"

"You’re kidding, right?" He asked.

"No. I’m not." She replied, setting her lips in a straight line.

Spike simply stared at her as the pieces of information he had started to form a logical image. But the picture soon faded into the background as his gaze refocused on her semi-naked body. His nostrils flared once again, her scent slipping in, causing his heart to skip a beat.

"Spike!" She called snapping him out of his daze.

He jumped up.

"Do you mind?" She asked tightening her grip around the towel.

"Oh, sorry, luv." He muttered, not bothering to mask the disappointment as he turned his back to her. "I’ll just be downstairs." He said walking out of the room.

Buffy’s jaw muscles ticked at the ‘luv’ reference. Sighing, she prepared to drop the towel when his voice caused her head to snap back to the door.

"Um, sorry!" He apologized sincerely, his nervous gaze bouncing off the walls to avoid her. "Mind telling me where the loo is?"

"Huh?" She asked, with a frown as she once again awkwardly hugged the towel against her form.

"The bathroom, pet." He corrected and with a slick smirk his gaze landed on her again.

Buffy caught her breath at that.

"It’s, um… next door." She answered.

"Thanks." He said. His stare travelled up and down her shape one more time before he finally exited the room.

Buffy was left standing there, gawking at the closed door, her breathing coming in quick, shallow breaths.

~+~

"Did you find the bathroom?" Joyce asked as she pulled the lasagna out of the oven.

Spike nodded, holding up his now clean hands.

"Good. I hope you like lasagna."

"Love it." He replied, taking a seat at the isle.

"Are you ok?" Joyce asked, with a frown.

"I met your daughter. The eldest."

"You met Buffy?" Joyce asked.

‘Now, you tell me her name.’ His brain shouted, while he nodded.

"I know her." He added.

Joyce frowned.

"She’s um…"

How was he going to explain this?

"She’s the roommate of… someone I know." He opted.

"You know Harmony? Where from?" Joyce questioned walking out of the kitchen carrying the lasagna while Spike trailed along.

‘I shag her on a regular basis.’ His mind answered. ‘Correction, I used to shag her on a regular basis.’

"Dawn, go call your sister?" Joyce said to the teenager that was sitting in front of the TV. Reluctantly, she stood up and dragged her feet to the hall.

"We met at a bar." His mouth chose a more acceptable reply.

"Oh, you’re Harmony’s boyfriend!" Joyce deduced.

"BUFFY! DINNER’S READY!" Dawn shouted from the stairs.

Spike cringed at the sharp voice as he continued the conversation:

"Yeah… maybe."

"Dawn, don’t just shout. Go upstairs and call her." Joyce reproached, before turning towards Spike. "Maybe?"

"Things are… complicated."

‘Yes, I’m shagging Harmony, but all I seem to able to think about is her aggravating roommate. Who just happens to be your daughter. How’s that for complicated?’

"I understand." Joyce nodded.

~+~

Buffy stared at herself in the mirror, inspecting her fourth outfit that evening. She jumped up when the door to her room opened.

"Buffy, dinner’s ready." Dawn announced. "What’s taking you so long? Spike and mom are waiting."

"You know him too?" Buffy frowned, forgetting to scold her sister for entering without knocking.

"Who? Spike?"

Buffy nodded.

"Yeah. Known him since mom was in the hospital. He was there all the time." Dawn said matter-of-factly before preparing to leave.

"Dawn, wait."

The teenager stopped in mid-stride.

"So, you met him at the hospital?"

"That’s what I said." Dawn replied a little bit annoyed. Her sister’s questions were robbing her of perfectly good Spike-time.

"So he’s a nurse or something?" Buffy wondered. It was amazing just how little she knew about him.

"Who? Spike? Of course not! Even though he did pretend to be a doctor once. It was hysterical!" Dawn giggled at the memory.

"So what was he doing there?" Buffy asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

"I think he was visiting a friend. I don’t know. He didn’t say much."

"Oh, ok."

"Are you coming? Lasagna’s on the table."

"I’ll be right there." Buffy replied, glancing back at the mirror.

That pink sweater made her look fat. Her fingers were already at the hem of the piece when she shook her head.

"What am I doing? Who cares if it makes me look fat?"

~+~

"Dawn, go see what’s taking-" Joyce stopped when her daughter finally walked into the room. "Finally."

"Sorry. The other sweater had a stain." Buffy lied, straightening her light-blue shirt as she sat down at the table, right in front of Spike.

Joyce sat at the head of the table and a giddy Dawn sat next to the bleached guest.

"Now we can eat." Joyce announced as she started cutting the lasagna and serving.

Buffy’s eyes were fixed on her plate. For some strange reason she couldn’t meet the blue eyes staring back at her from the other side of the table.

"So, apparently you know Spike." Joyce started the conversation, preventing the silence from settling in.

"Yeah." Buffy muttered, picking up her fork and poking at her piece of lasagna.

The entire dinner was one of Buffy’s most excruciating experiences. When she had left her room she was determined to figure out just how Spike knew her mother and just what the hell he was doing at that hospital, but the moment she stepped into the dining room she seemed to lose her nerve.

The whole time, all she could do was avoid his piercing gaze. ‘God! Stare much!’ She kept saying to herself.

So she sat there, playing with her food while Joyce and Spike chatted, with Dawn occasionally stepping in with a comment or two.

"So Janice said that Tony was an idiot because he didn’t know what the hell-"

"Dawn!" Joyce stepped in.

"Sorry!" Dawn piped. "Because he didn’t know what he was talking about." She inhaled sharply, catching her breath while staring wide-eyed at the smiling Brit. He was drop-dead gorgeous and that red shirt was… Ah! She sighed.

"Maybe Janice was right." Spike pointed out, throwing a quick glance at her older sister.

Buffy quickly diverted her gaze back to her plate. ‘Stupid piercing blue eyes!’ She mentally pouted.

What was happening to her? She was afraid to look Spike in the eye? Well, he had just seen her half naked an hour ago, maybe that was it. She tried to fool herself, but her mind insisted on flashing back to their previous meeting. She swallowed hard as she was mentally transported back to that small space, trapped between his body and the door to her apartment.

"Well, dinner was great, but I really need to get going." Spike’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Already?" Dawn whined.

"Yeah. I have a few things to take care of tomorrow."

"But tomorrow’s Saturday. No one works on Saturday." Dawn pointed out.

"I do, Nibblet." Spike replied standing up.

"Are you sure?" Dawn insisted.

"Dawn, stop whining, can’t you see he has stuff to do." The words were out of her mouth before she could think.

"Yeah, I really do." Spike said, running his hand over Dawn’s head while his gaze met Buffy’s for a second, before she looked away.

"Well, if you have to." Joyce stood up and walked after Spike and Dawn. "It was nice having you over. You should come more often. God knows I owe you from all the times you’ve given me a ride home."

‘Please, don’t come more often. Stay away, stay away.’ Buffy hissed mentally.

"You don’t owe me a thing, Joyce and the lasagna was wonderful. Thanks for having me over."

"You’re welcome." Joyce smiled back as she opened the door for her guest.

"See you, Joyce. Daw-" Before he was able to finish, the teenager’s arms were wrapped around him. "Night, Nibblet." He stood up straight and his eyes found Buffy standing at the back of the hall. "Buffy." He nodded his goodbye and turned around.

She gasped as the sound of her name made her heart accelerate for a split second. She inhaled sharply.

"Mom, why didn’t you tell me you knew Spike?" She demanded the moment the door shut closed.

"How was I supposed to know you knew him?" Joyce wondered with a frown, heading for the living room and picking up the plates.

Her daughter stomped her way after her while Dawn announced that she was going to bed.

"Night, sweetheart." Joyce replied, walking back into the kitchen as her teenage daughter raced up the stairs. "Don’t forget to brush your teeth."

"I told you about him like a thousand times! Harmony’s irritating Neanderthal excuse for a boyfriend?" Buffy continued with an annoyed tone.

"You said he was called Thorn." Joyce defended herself, rolling up her sleeves and starting to wash the dishes.

"Thorn, Spike, it’s the same thing!" She exclaimed.

As a response Joyce simply dispensed a sarcastic glance her way, raising her eyebrow.

"What?!" Buffy asked defensively.

"I was supposed to know that Thorn was actually Spike?"

"Yes!"

"Of course, how could I not know that?" Joyce said sardonically, shaking her head.

There was a moment of silence before Buffy spoke again.

"So… You know him from the hospital?"

"Uh-huh." Joyce nodded.

Pause.

"What was he doing there?" Buffy finally asked again.

"I think he was visiting a friend." Was Joyce’s irritatingly short reply.

"What friend?"

"A girl. Poor thing had been run over by a drunk driver. Spike was devastated. He came to check on her every single day at the hospital. The first few nights he spent them in her room, sleeping by her bed, just to make sure she was alright. The nurses had to drag him out and tell him to go home most of the times. One of those times he came into my room to hide for a few minutes before he could go back to see her. That’s when I met him."

"Spike was worried about someone other than himself? That’s new one."

"Why do you say that?" Joyce asked.

"Cause all he thinks about is himself."

"Maybe you just don’t know him." Joyce pointed out.

Author's Note: Ok, big warning in this chapter for Sparm. The entire story itself come attached with a big Spike/other warning, but since some of the readers might be a little too sensitive to this I'm just giving them another heads-up, so please don't come crying to me saying that the chapter was too painfull or disgusting to read. You have been warned, plus please keep in mind that you can always quit reading the story. No one's forcing you to read it. I don't want to sound bitchy at all. I understand that most people who read Spuffy fic, want read Spuffyness and not about any other couple, especially not one that inclueds either Buffy or Spike. So if you think you can't stand the thought of Spike shagging someone else I would advise you to not read this chapter, and probably not read the fic at all. Believe me this is not the story for you. If you think that Sparm is yucky but you can take it, feel free to continue reading. ;)

She pressed her fingers against her ears, trying to block out the loud music as she jogged down the steps, and walked away from the house.

"Damn it." She cursed under her breath when she stumbled on her long black dress and her pointy hat threatened to fall.

Securing it back in its place with one hand, she held the cell phone to her ear with the other.

"Come on, come on. Pick up." Willow hissed into the cell phone.

After a few seconds, her wish was granted.

"Hello?" Buffy answered.

"Buffy, it's me, Willow. You won't-"

"Willow? Finally, I've been trying to get a hold of you since last night!" The words rushed out of her mouth cutting Willow off. "You won't believe who was the mystery guest." She didn't even give Willow the chance to guess. "It was Spike!"

"What?!" Willow asked in shock.

"Yes!"

"Spike was the secret date that came to dinner last night?" Willow felt the urge to confirm, maybe she hadn't heard correctly. She was out of the house but the music was still pretty loud, plus... It couldn't be! It just couldn't. Spike and Mrs. Summers? That was just... too gross for words. Sure, Mrs. Summers was still young and Spike was probably in his mid-twenties-

Buffy's reply cut short her train of thought: "I was getting changed when all of a sudden Spike burst into my room." Buffy continued.

"Wait a minute! Spike saw you naked?"

"What?! No, God no! I was wearing a towel which, come to think of it, isn't all that good either. The guy just kept ogling." She wrinkled her nose in fake disgust as she spoke.

"Oh my God!" Willow exclaimed.

"I know!"

"That double-faced, deceitful, little weasel." Willow growled.

"Uh, yeah, I know." Buffy agreed, but couldn't help frowning at Willow's harsh reaction.

"That... that... grrr." She growled once again.

"W-willow. Are you ok? It's kinda wrong to ogle, I mean, I should know, I was the object of the ogling, but it's not *that* bad, right?"

Did I just defend Spike?' Buffy asked herself.

"Oh, it's not that. I-It’s just..." Nervousness and awkwardness settle into Willow's voice as she tried to find the words. "I really don't know how to say this..."

Buffy frowned again.

"Willow? What happened?"

There was a moment of pause before Willow blurted out:

"Spike's cheating on your mother."

Willow inhaled sharply as she waited for Buffy's reaction.

"What?"

"Spike's cheating on your mother. God, that is probably the strangest thing I've ever had to say." Willow said, more to herself than to the person on the other side of the line.

"N-no. Willow, you didn't get it. My mom's not dating Spike." Buffy started explaining while her mind continued to assimilate the consequences of Willow's statement. 'Spike's dating again?'

It was Willow's turn to come to a halt and frown.

"What do you mean? You said-"

"He did come over for dinner but he's not dating my mom. They know each other from the hospital, when my mom went in for the surgery." Her stomach turned a bit when the memories of those days flooded back to her.

"Oh!" Willow muttered. This was too much information to be absorbed all at once. "So Spike and your mom aren't dating?"

"No."

"Oh, thank God. Cause if it was true it would be just too weird." Willow exhaled in relief.

"Yeah, I know." Buffy paused for a second, unsure whether or not to bring up the subject. So what if Spike was dating someone, what did she care? Before she could think about it any longer the question escaped her lips. "So... why'd you think that Spike was cheating on my mom?"

"I just saw him with Harmony a second ago. That’s why I was calling you."

"Oh... And you think they're back together?"

'Did that sound too interested?' Buffy wondered in her mind. 'So what? I'm worried about my roommate. That's normal, right? I'm a concerned friend. Ok, friend is a stretch. I'm concerned roommate.' Buffy unconsciously nodded once she finished her reasoning.

"Well, they must be. One minute I'm in the middle of a party talking to an extremely depressed Harmony, the next Spike shows up, wraps his arms around her waist, whispers something in her ear and off they go, rushing out of the house, stumbling over one another like two very desperate virgins on prom night." Willow painted a clear picture.

There were a few seconds of silence on the line.

‘Spike and Harmony are back together.’ Buffy conceded.

"Buffy? Did you hear what I said?"

"What?" She shook her head lightly as she tried to focus her attention on Willow’s question. "Yeah, yeah I did."

Willow frowned.

"Are you ok?"

"Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?" Buffy asked nonchalantly.

"It’s just that you suddenly went all silent-Bob on me."

"Just thinking about the long, torturous nights of listening to Harmony moan and groan, that’s all."

The silence settled in once more.

"Well, I should go. Tara’s waiting for me at the party." Willow said as her eyes turned to the intensely lit house.

"Ok. Have fun." Buffy replied with little enthusiasm.

"Thanks. Happy Halloween!"

"Happy Halloween."

Willow pressed the button on her cell phone, pulled at her long black dress and held her pointy hat in place as she started to walk back into the house.

"Why did I agree to dress as a witch?" Willow muttered to herself, as she walked off into the night.

The phone in Buffy’s hand beeped for a couple of minutes before she realised that Willow had already hung up.

‘Spike and Harmony. Back together.’

~+~

The two stumbled into the apartment as the door finally opened. The sound of harsh pants and moans filled the previously silent living room.

Harmony struggled with the difficult task of pulling the key from the lock, while Spike’s mouth attacked the back of her neck, his hands roaming frantically up and down her torso. Eventually, with some effort, she was able to free the key and kick her door closed.

She gasped for air when he spun her around and slammed her back against the door, her eyes widening at the fervour of his assault on her body. For a few seconds her mind wondered what had spurred such appetite in him. He had been so distant their last week together, avoiding any contact with her and when they finally got things going, well… little Spike hadn’t been up to the task. Why the sudden change? Why…

Her mind blurred, and all thoughts seemed to melt away under the ministrations of his hands. God, she missed those hands!

"Oh, Spike!" She moaned as he nibbled on her neck.

She opened her eyes and frowned when she found herself staring up at the ceiling. Gasping, she turned left to find she was now lying on the floor, in the middle of the living room. Hadn’t she been pressed up against the front door just a second ago? But she didn’t care. Spike was lying on top of her, his hand bunching her short skirt up her thighs and pulling her thong down her legs. That was all that mattered.

~+~

Spike pulled hard breaths from his lungs as he watched her panties slide down her legs. After more than two weeks of forced celibacy he was going to have sex. God, he missed sex!

Two weeks of agonizing terror were over. He shook his head, trying not to dwell on the cause of his… problem and the eventual solution.

‘Why her?’

Why was it that having Harmony stark naked, sitting on his lap, rubbing herself against him didn’t work and yet within two second of seeing *her* wrapped in a towel she had him harder than he could remember being.

‘Why her?’ His mind growled at him as he fumbled with the buttons of his denims.

"Here, let me help you with that." For some reason Harmony’s voice, seemed higher and more shrieked than before.

‘Why her?!’ A part of him insisted, but he pushed the thought away.

He was cured now, that was all that mattered and dammed him if he wasn’t going to take full advantage of it.

His hands dropped to the sides of her head, supporting his weight while Harmony worked on the fastening of his jeans. He stared down at her, but he didn’t see her, instead the picture of a small blonde wrapped in a nothing but a towel drifted back into his mind. He snapped his eyes shut.

‘Go away!’

The feel on his jeans sliding down his legs, brought him back to the reality of the moment – He was in a darkened room, lying on the floor, on top of a panting Harmony, with his denims bunched up around his ankles.

‘Action time. Nothing else to do but fuck her.’

He glanced down, he wasn’t completely hard yet.

‘Bollocks!’

Looking up, he found a trace of disappointment over Harmony’s face.

‘God, not again. Please, not again.’ He begged in his mind.

And then her hand crept down his stomach, to dive between his thigh and brush against him. His eyelids fell closed.

‘That’s it, baby.’ He coaxed her mentally while she wrapped her hands around his semi-erect cock and started to stroke it.

Closing his eyes, he let his elbow drop, holding his entire weight on his forearm, while his other hand came down to play with her breasts.

They stayed that way for a while, rubbing, fondling, trying to wheedle him into action.

After five minutes he growled and suddenly pushing himself off of her, standing up abruptly.

"Blood hell!" He roared in anger and frustration, pulling up his jeans while he walked around the room.

Harmony sighed, sitting up with a pout over her lips as she watched him kick and push the couch. What was wrong with him? There had to be something wrong with him, because she was definitely still hot. There had been a moment a week ago, when she had questioned her hotness. Maybe she had gotten fat. But tonight, as she stood in front of the mirror getting the final touches on her school girl Halloween costume she was sure she was still sizzling hot. So, it only left one option – it was his fault, not hers. She provided the hotness; he should be more than ready to provide the… hardness.

She stood up, buttoning up her white shirt with one hand while pulling down her miniature skirt.

"What is wrong with me?" He continued to growl, plopping down the couch. "I was fixed. I was sure I was fixed." His anger seemed to slowly melt away to be replaced by anguish and self-pity.

"Oh, Spikey!" Harmony purred, coming to sit next to him. "Maybe you’re just tired from working too hard." She paused, resting on her words for a moment. Did he work? Suddenly, she realised she didn’t even know what he did for a living.

‘Strange.’ She thought for a second, but then shrugged it off.

"Work? I haven’t done anything in almost two weeks! How can I be tired?" He responded with a semi-pout. "All I can think is that I might never have sex again! God! I need a drink." He grumbled. "Do you have anything?"

"Not really." Harmony replied. "Oh! Wait, I think I’ve got…"

She trailed off, jumping off the couch and skipping her way to her bedroom.

"I’m probably neutered for life and she’s bouncing. Bloody fantastic!" He grumbled, watching as she came back seconds later with a bottle in hand. "What’s that?"

"A bottle of whiskey I got from Carrie last year." She started giddily, like a six year-old who is about to tell a dirty secret. "She said it was-"

"Great. Tell Carrie I said thanks." He roared cutting her rambling short and yanking the bottle from her hand.

"Rude much?" She protested, taking her place on the couch next to him and watching him as he tipped the bottle and partially gobbled up its content.

Dropping it back down, his face contorted as the harsh liquid burned its way down his oesophagus.

"Yuck!" She made a face at the spectacle before her.

"Good; not yuck." He corrected offering her the bottle.

She stared at it for a couple of seconds and then shrugged. Why not? Since she wasn’t going to get laid tonight she might as well get smashed.

Hesitantly, she took a sip and immediately let out a sickened shriek, practically throwing the bottle in his direction.

"That’s disgusting."

He shook his head and ignored her, picking up the whiskey and bringing it up to his lips.

Half a bottle later…

"It’s her fault." He suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that had settled between them for the last fifteen minutes.

"Huh?" A half-awake Harmony asked.

God, she was bored. She never thought Spike could actually be boring but he was. For the first half hour all he had done was moan and groan about never being able to have sex again, how life wasn’t worth living if ‘a bloke couldn’t have a decent shag every once in a while’. She had sat next to him, stroking his chest, giving him little kisses over his neck, making it absolutely obvious she wanted sex and he just went on and on, talking and gulping down that disgusting brew. And after the moping, came the silence, she was half-asleep when he finally spoke.

"It’s all her fault." He repeated not very articulately. The alcohol swimming in his head made it difficult to form words. "It’s her fault I can’t have sex." He explained with a pout.

‘Who is he talking about?’ Her sleep-filled mind wondered while he continued:

"Her, with her holier-than-thou attitude… her stupid upturned nose and her stupid… hair." He whinged in a hoarse voice.

‘It’s his mother.’ She concluded, remembering what little she could of her psych 101 classes. ‘It’s always the mother.’

In the meantime, Spike’s inebriated mind continued to drift. Unable to form coherent trains of thought, it released fragments of ideas into his consciousness.

"Stupid towel… made me think I was fixed." He grumbled.

‘Ok, one more try and that’s it!’ She decided, ignoring him and dropping onto her knees in front of him.

Spike remained unaware as she unzipped his pants.

"Stupid eyes…" He mumbled. "Stupid- Harm?" He wondered, looking at his lap with a frown over his brows. "Harm, what are you…" He trailed off at the feel of her fingers brushing through the thick, dark curls that sprung from the opened fastening of the jeans. "Harm, just give it a rest will you? I’m broken." He growled, in a mixture anger and desperation.

He squinted in the dark room, the only light coming from the table lamp near the couch; his eyes straining to focus on his groin.

His eyes closed at the feel of soft lips grazing below his navel. That felt nice… pity it didn’t… His mind trailed off as his eyelids opened once again and his drunken gaze found an anonymous mass of blonde hair settled between his thighs.

"Harm?" He questioned. There was no answer but a soft moan. ‘Perfect.’

His hand carefully moved over the small head, fingers diving between the locks of hair. Slowly, the hair seemed smoother than before, the weak orange light coming from the lamp serving to make the strands look darker, not the pale and dry blonde that Harmony sported but a sweet, honey-coloured glow, just like… *hers*.

‘God, what are you thinking?’ Spike’s intoxicated mind asked. But the question remained unanswered as his body started to respond to the attention of a hot and wet mouth.

He hissed, clenching his jaw shut at the feel of a moist tongue wrapping itself around his cock.

"Bloody hell…" He gasped as her mouth took him in.

With some effort he opened his eyes to look down, feeling himself harden under the burning heat.

‘What’s…?’ Still his mind tried to make some sense of what was going on, but to no avail. He was too drunk to focus his eyes on the head that now bobbed up and down over his groin, let alone think straight.

"Fuck it." He growled, picking up the anonymous blonde at his feet and dragging her up to the couch.

"Ah!" Harmony protested; the surprise movement and his lack of coordination landing her face-down on the sofa. "Sp-" She was immediately silenced by a strong hand covering her mouth and a heavy, hard body pressed against her back.

"Shhh-" He ordered, one of his hands remaining over her lips while the other slid between their bodies to find the curve of her ass. "Keep quiet."

Harmony gasped into his hand when cold fingers once again slipped between her thighs, finding the frail fabric of her thong, hooked themselves around it and pulled it aside to expose her to him.

Clumsily, he dragged his body over hers, burying her under his weight as he pushed his legs between hers; his face buried in her hair.

‘Wrong scent…’ A primitive part of his mind whispered, and it was true - the odor was too heavy, too strong.

He shook his head, pushing away the nagging thought.

"Fuck the scent." He growled between clenched teeth.

"Wha- Ah!" Her muffled question was cut short by her own gasp when she felt him drive into her with one sharp push of his hips.

One hand abandoned her mouth and fisted itself into her hair, the other wrapped around her waist in a frustrated attempt at holding her up as he started to move in hard and speedy thrusts.

In his drunken haze, the sounds she made seemed distant; the usual high-pitch cries now dimmed into soft, barely audible moans and he found himself slowing down, his strokes longer.

‘Just like *she* would- God! What are you thinking?!’ He growled in his mind, driving hard into the warm body underneath him and eliciting a sharp ‘Oh my God!’ from it.

He tried to keep his mind a blank and his pace hard. It didn’t take long for him to realise he wasn’t going to be successful at either task. Bit by bit, the shrieking sounds and the anonymous body transformed in his drunken state, giving way to soft gasps and a familiar, leaner and smaller form. Soon he gave up struggling against it, relenting to the tempting idea that it could be… *her*.