Stupid Things

By Sweetprincipale

Completely AU. There are people who get inside you. That you love, that you get angry with, but they're still your person. The person who, no matter what they ask, and how much you say no, you will end up doing anything for them. Buffy and William have that kind of relationship as they grow up. Is there anything that can change it?

Author's Note: This story is told in a series of moments, sometimes minutes apart, sometimes months apart. Page breaks denote the shift in time.

Dedicated to Illusera, Kitakana, Omslagspapper, AGriffinWriter, Jhiz, The Darkness Befalls, TieDyeJackson, micmoc, The TwistedSisterxx, Sirius120, and Ginar369.

Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.

Part VI

"Your mom isn't going to go for this." Willow paced with her cordless phone.

"I don't really think she has a choice. I'm eighteen and I got hold of Dad. He says, like he always says, 'It's still your house, Princess.' He just won't be back to share it with me anytime soon."

"Where is he?"

"Tokyo for business and then he has some 'stop offs' to make on his way back. Not to be gross, but I'm thinking layovers really have a double meaning with my dad, now that he's a 'swinging bachelor'."

"Oh. Oh gross. So much gross."

"I know! It's like thinking about Giles being all... yeah."

Willow blushed as she sat on the edge of her bed. "I think about Giles like that. I mean, thought about! Past tense, pre-Oz! And not in detail!"

Buffy laughed briefly, then sighed as the more serious issues took over her mind once more. "I don't think Mom'll like it, but I don't think she'll stop it. Even if she wanted to, there's no way I can let her." Her voice quivered. "Will needs this chance."

"Is Will just going to leave? Is he going to talk to Giles, even? What's Giles going to say?" Willow worried and wondered.

"Same thing, I guess. He'll hate it, but he'll have a hard time stopping it. That's fine. Maybe we'd better get used to being on our own." The tremble was much more pronounced. They didn't talk about the after part. The what if it worked, or sort of worked part. Hadn't yet, anyway.

If Giles wouldn't believe he was safe, if her mom threw her out again, they'd be on their own by default. "I really can't see Mom accepting this. I remember what happened when I told her the truth about me- and I was a good guy, world saving guy! Will... Will's going to be different in a way we've always said was bad."

"Buffy- you're not sure, not one hundred percent sure- that she's wrong about that." Willow pointed out gently.

"I know. But it doesn't matter. You get that, right? With Oz- we've met werewolves who were demons all day, all night, every day and night, no matter how 'human' they were."

"The wolf is always in him." Willow and Oz had realized that recently. It was about control, and there was a hope that one day Oz's control would be strong enough to best the demon even when the moon called it to rise. "And a demon will always be in Will- the vampire is always there, control or not. Like the wolf. But-"

"No more buts, Willow." Buffy's voice was soft but held a note of warning. Please don't make this any worse...

"Okay." The redhead swallowed. "You don't have to be on your own. Even if Giles and Joyce don't believe he's safe, if you say he is, we'll believe you. Oz and I."

Buffy felt some relief wash over her. "You don't think we're being completely stupid?"

"No. I think you both are... but- I get it. If it were Oz, I'd do the same thing. There are people you'd do anything for."


"Anything you can do to help a sick man, Red?" Will showed up at her house early, a few bags packed.

"Oh. Oh! Come in." Willow hustled him upstairs.

"Who is it, Willow?"

"It's Will, Mom!"

"Is he staying for breakfast?"

"Are you?" Willow asked him.

"I don't think so. Bertie's sleepin' off about a pint of single malt now, but who knows how long that'll last?"

"He can't stay, Mom! He just- uh- I have something I need to give him to take to Buffy's house!"

"Okay. Is he sure he doesn't want to stay? It's blintzes!"

"It's blintzes." Willow added.

William laughed and shook his head, then kissed her cheek swiftly.

Willow blinked. "Wow. What was that for?" Her eyes glowed and her cheeks bubbled in her broadest smile as she motioned him to come to her room.

"I was thinking about how Buffy tried to fix us up, and I ended up fixin' you up with Oz instead."

"I've been thinking about that, too." Willow's eyes were suddenly brighter than normal. "I owe you."

"Nah. I like you two together. You make him talk more than anyone else. Smile more, too. He loves you so bloody much, you do know that, right? Smart girl like you knows that."

"I know that." Willow nodded. "Which is why I still say I owe you. Look." She hastily kicked some laundry out of sight and rummaged in her closet, coming out in a few minutes with a handful of books and unidentifiable trinkets.

"Lookin'. Not exactly seein'."

"Everything I read says magic doesn't work on naturally occurring illnesses. Symptoms, yes, but not the cause. You can make something temporarily better, but then, when the spell wears off- boom. It's like bad on steroids. As sick as you would have been getting one day at a time comes back in the space of like thirty seconds when the spell is done. It's a bad fix, and it's not long term." Willow said, frustration in her eyes.

"Well, I'm pretty temporary myself these days, Red." Will sat on the edge of her bed, legs spread, hands clasped and dangling between them as his elbows rested on his knees.

"But still... I'm a klutz. My spells have a lot of power, not a lot of- what's the word- precision. Yeah, precision's a good word. I might end up shrinking your pancreas instead of your tumors. Too risky."

"I'm all about risk lately." He launched himself off the bed and paced in a tight circle. Look, I just need somethin' to get me through another week. Or two."

Willow looked horrified. "Is it that bad? Will, why aren't you in the hospital?"

"Because I can't do anything hooked up to a bag of meds and havin' my lungs fried. I have a set of fangs to track down an' maybe battle into submission."

Willow hesitated. That sounded like a fast track to dead. "I- I made this charm. Practicing. It was going to be for Buffy, but you remember the whole 'burn the witch' thing that interrupted my life?"

"That was a bad week. Could put you right off practicing." William encouraged.

"It's for strength and protection. It's not very powerful, and I think it has an expiration date, or gets used up or something. B-but I was thinking, maybe you could use it? To keep you from feeling weaker, or feeling worse, anyway." In the armful of trinkets she carried, she managed to unearth one, a dangling piece of cord, crystal, and stone. "It's not a cure. It's finished now. It's not much-"

"But everything helps. Ta, luv." He slipped it over his head, with her help, and then they stood, close, standing awkwardly for a moment. "See you soon."

"See you soon." He began to step back but found himself snared by a sudden frantic grip.

"Be okay. And if you aren't... remember how much she loves you. Don't..." Words were trapped inside a web of fears and doubts that should never exist. "Just don't."

Don't hurt her. Don't break her heart. Don't kill her. Don't make her kill you, which would do all those things, break her heart, hurt her, maybe even kill her. "It's a promise."

"Don't break it." Willow's grip loosened, but her face seemed to tense, sealing over. She said nothing more, but William understood her warnings.

"I won't." He kissed her cheek once more, patted the charm in place across his chest, and headed to his car.


This should be nice. Kind of daring, kind of new, in an all grown up way. Buffy straightened her room, drove her small second hand car to the market, buying his favorite snacks, healthy foods to try to actually cook actual meals, making everything welcoming.

It's our first time alone together. Really alone. On our own. Like adults.

Doing adult things... Maybe...


Bags were strewn on the couch. Food went uneaten.

She was all he wanted to taste.

"No, don't take it off." William tucked the amulet down through his collar as she slipped his shirt above his head. "I think it works. Hurts a bit less to breathe."

"Kiss it, make it better." Buffy smiled softly and lay him back on her bed of white and pink striped cotton.

He arched under her lips, fingers scrabbling on the edged of her shirt, pawing gently up her back as he searched for the catch of her bra. "Missed you like you've been gone for years, not hours." He grunted, ever the poet.

Sweet desperation. "Same." She panted and sat up, shaking slightly as she felt his hands connect with her skin, shirt pushing up over her head.

He gasped in. Not like he hadn't seen her in bikinis at the beach, but this was- this was decidedly sexual and it tingled his lover's heart, with all the tragedy in this first time of love making.

Possibly first time.

The gasping set off a racking crescendo in his lungs, and positions shifted, romance shot to hell. Water was gotten, then the emergency inhaler the doc in London had given him to use for "breathlessness."

"You do-"

"Shh, I can wait." Buffy hushed him as he tried to talk before the coughing was really gone.

"You do- leave me- breathless." William choked out, clutching her hand.

"I will again, too." Buffy rested her cheek to his forehead, arms circling his shoulders.

It shouldn't feel like this. Like it's sad. Like there's pity. She had that- the last time. She made love with that git because it was about to end between them, at least temporarily, him trekkin' off with bits of the Judge, leavin' her behind, like some soldier's bride. "Buffy, we shouldn't. Shouldn't do this because you-" the pain in her eyes and sudden hurt and vulnerability on her features made his lips seal involuntarily. He wouldn't dare bring up Angel and her motives that first time. No more pain for her, not from him. " Shouldn't do this because you're not on the pill. Are you?"

"Huh?" Buffy was surprised. "No. No, I um... I thought we could use something else?" Why get it, when the guy you're dating plans to loose his baby-making ability pretty darn soon?

"That's just it, Luv, I didn't bring any. An' unless you want to go rummage around in your dad's -"

"Stop. Stop right there." Buffy held up her hands. "We are both going to swear to forget you ever said that."

"Killed the mood?" Good.

"Kinda."

"Sorry."

"I don't care if we do... other things." Buffy hinted, though her stomach was in knots.

Other things. William envisioned her performing a variety of those euphemisms and felt his heart hammer painfully on his weakened lungs. "You ever done those 'things' before?"

Buffy did a rapid replay of her only sexual encounter. Kisses. Passionate, weepy kisses, hushed voices, fumbling, hurrying, eagerness overcoming them both, years of solitude shattering on Angel's part, and then- just shattering. "No. Just the- the big ticket item." She blushed.

"I wanna do everything with you." To you. A darker lust surged under the steady love he had for her. "But when it's mutual. Call me a stubborn one, but I like mutual participation." His turn to blush. "Not that I did it before."

"You didn't? Even with scorpion tattoo girl?" She asked, almost shyly.

"Nope. Strangely limited in spite of my devastating good looks and charm." He laughed and she joined him. Then he sobered before his lungs could protest again. "I am serious, though. Don't want to risk makin' us parents. We've enough to deal with and... I really, really don't ever want to watch my own kids go through this." Buffy took his hand. "Funny, init? When you're nineteen and you start datin' the girl you're mad about, you don't picture kids. You picture plenty of what you do to make 'em." They exchanged a small, knowing smirk. "But then they tell you you're dyin'. That you couldn't have avoided it anyway, it was in your effin' DNA the whole time...suddenly you think about parents an' kids, and you realize you're never gonna have 'em." He watched her eyes spill suddenly, and wiped them away as easily as holding her hand, the gesture too often practiced. "You realize that girl would make one hell of a mum."

"Will." She shook her head.

"You realize you never really had a dad."

"Baby, shhh." She tried to put a finger to his lips, but he spoke past it.

"Realize you might've made a decent one, with the right girl behind you, but it won't matter now. An' the worse it gets, when you realize they weren't joking around, you realize you'd rather not be one. 'Cause you think it'd kill you, watchin' your child go through this." He bowed his head suddenly, as if talking had left him exhausted. "Man, I hope my mum and dad are busy up there."

"Oh God, Will!" Buffy burst into tears and flung herself into his arms. "Stop talking, okay? Poetic angst might work for you, but you're going to kill me." She sniffled into his shoulder. "It's going to be okay... it really is. And- I don't need to raise a baby. I have a world to save every about nine months, that's enough 'labor'. Besides, I already don't get enough sleep."

"You're givin' up a lot for me. Biggest risks you can take."

She nodded. It was several seconds before she murmured, "You know that night- a long time ago, when I came to your window and said I wrecked my mom's car, and two guys were chasing me?"

"Yeah?"

"You got right out of bed and came down to help me. You didn't even blink. You didn't know if you were walking into danger. Then a couple months later, they said I was psycho girl, and that I had to be tied down 'cause I could have an 'episode'? You sat right next to me and said you believed me. You got me free." Her bright green eyes met his brilliant blue. "I think you took all the risks early. I said I owed you one. Then I must've owed you about a million. This is just payback, but just so you know..." Her lips met his, and they sank back again, slower this time, more peaceful this time, "I would have done it anyway."


"I figured you'd be there." Giles' voice was pinched.

"You're super smart." Buffy said with false cheer.

"Buffy, tell him to come back."

"I can't do that."

"Then I'll come there."

"Are you going to help us?"

"Yes, if by help you mean take care of you both and prevent you from doing things which will cause you untold sorrow."

"Nope, that wasn't what I meant by help."

He groaned. "Where is William?"

"Making waffles and cutting up a cantaloupe. Yelling at the dog races on television. My dad has waaaay too many cable channels." Buffy answered complacently.

"Do you think this is a game?" Giles roared. In his flat, glasses and plates shattered as he hurled an empty whiskey bottle into the sink.

"No." Buffy kept her voice calm and even. "I think this is the part I was hoping to avoid. The part where I tell you that you stay put, unless you come to help. The part where I remind you that you're in great shape, but you're mortal and pushing forty from the other side, and I'm a young, tough Slayer, and I can pick you up with one hand and throw you back out into the street. With distance and accuracy, because you trained me. This is the part where you might stop being the best man I know, and become my enemy." Buffy's voice wobbled ever so slightly. "This is the part, Giles. And it's all up to you if we get there or not."

He stopped. Hangovers and grief that even drink couldn't shake bowed him low. He sank into a chair, unshaven and suddenly alone and small. He might lose Will. Oh dammit, it was a certainty at this point. He didn't have to lose her as well. She'd find out the hard way, like he had before, and then they'd need each other more than ever. "Will you... will you call me each day? Will you keep me informed?"

"Absolutely."

"If you're successful- u-up to a point, that is, will you call me while you're waiting?"

"For him to wake up?"

It's not waking up. It's something else rising, wearing his face. Scotch lurched up, stinging and stinking across the hardwood floor. "Yes." He gagged out.

She hesitated. "I'll call you once I know it's safe."

"Buffy, no, now listen-"

"When it's safe." She repeated sternly. He doesn't want me to go through this. I don't want him to. But at least I'm willing to take a risk, he's held hostage by his own blood, his own love. "I'm stronger than you think Giles. I can handle it."

"No one can 'handle' it." He hissed.

"Yeah, well... at least I've had some practice." Buffy shrugged sadly. "Stay put. Pray. See you soon."


"Dark soon. Vacation's over."

"Our vacations have been super sucky this summer."

"Yeah, but it's the first one we've gotten to actually spend together, right, Luv?"

"That's you. Mr. Brightside."

"Gonna be a really strange vamp, aren't I?" He tried to joke.

She assisted. "Good thing I like a little monster in my man. But seriously needs to have the cheerful to make the relationship work, okay?"

"I'll smile at you loads, Pet, fangs an' all." That gallows humor trotted out and obligingly chuckled over, they stood by the window, watching the sun sink in the August sky.

"How are we going to find her? Sunnydale is so much smaller, and I know the worst places to be. Which is, admittedly, most of town, but-"

"You know this city all right. You'll get us through." William said with unshakable confidence in her.

Buffy forced herself to echo the confidence. "Around Angel, you think?" He nodded. "Can't be too close, or he'd try to run her out of town. Not kill her, just force her to be someone else's problem." Buffy's voice turned hard. "He could kill his sire, sure, but not her."

"Kinda pleased about that at the moment." William reminded her drily.

"Oh, no, Will, I know we need her, I just..." Am scared. Worried. Jealous. Have a bad history with her. Darla was a blip on the radar, Drusilla's like a recurring nightmare... "Just wondered."

"I have a thought about it." William knew she wouldn't like it. He didn't much care right then. "I think Angel likes to suffer, and Angelus likes to play Lord Evil, Master Vamp. Darla made him. He made Drusilla. Would Angel rather have around a woman who groomed him into the king of torture, or the worst thing he ever made to keep him feeling shamed and remorseful?" She nodded stiffly. "And Angelus- sounds like he likes to take what's ripe and fresh and carve it up. Think Darla was the master craftsman where he was concerned."

"You're all kinds of insightful." Buffy muttered.

"Which is gonna help us find her, Baby." He took her hand and led her from the house. "Where's Angel?"

"We're not going there, are we?" Buffy yelped.

"No, we're gonna triangulate."

"Sounds dirty yet mathematical." He elbowed her. "Sorry. Serious face. What are we doing?"

"Find his neighborhood, the nearest bad neighborhood, and the nearest posh one, and work the zone in between the three points. Drusilla will want to be near enough to find him quick if she wants him, far enough away to stay out of his bad graces, and ..." he smiled to himself, "and she's mad. She's a murderin' freak, mixed up with this lost little girl. She likes the edges between. She could go to a dance in Hollywood and dazzle them all, and be just as happy playing games in the alleys with the drunks the next night."

"How do you know so much about her?" Buffy asked with a tiny glimmer of suspicion.

"Insight. And... she knew me. So well." He shivered inside, her whispers in the tunnel now seeming to caress his ear once more. "I like the edges, too."

Buffy followed him out to the street, trying not to let him see the sudden sweat making a sheen across her face in the moonlight.


"This isn't working. There's too much territory, not enough us." Plus, you can't walk too far, and the cars can't go every place we need them ato, not into graveyards and tiny alleys. Buffy sat down and eased her shoes off as the sun rose several days later. William sat beside her, his color chalky, chest seeming to fight out each breath. Buffy helped him sit up and tried not to show too much desperation. This has to end soon. Good or bad. He- he's already starting to turn into something else, I'm just not sure what.

"She... she's here." He said with conviction. "Feel her. Like a prickle in your back when you know someone's watching you."

"Maybe she is, but she's not sure if you're looking for her." Buffy was again wary of the connection they had sparked, and worried more than ever that she was going to lose him, no matter how "successful" they were.

"Gotta send her some kind of sign I guess." William wracked his brains, so tired, body so tired that only thoughts of sleep would manifest. "You mind if I crash, Buff?"

"Only if I can stay next to you and crash too."

"Yes, please." He shoved his black boots off and let her pull him up the stairs to her bed, which was their bed for now.


"I don't think I'll ever be dark and mysterious." Buffy told herself as he slept beside her. He came slowly, unobtrusively awake, listening to her soft whispers as she hugged her knees to her chest. "Nope. Sunny girl trapped in a night shift ready body. Sucks. I can't compete with freaky eternal life, mind games, and visions."

"You're bein' a dummy." Will's voice startled her.

"You're supposed to be asleep! Sound asleep! Last night I literally fell on top of you and you didn't wake up!" Buffy yipped in surprised irritation.

He ignored her comments. "I heard you. First off, I don't need a competition, 'specially not the kind you were mentionin'. Second, you're not always so bright and sunny, Beautiful. You are the master of dark and mysterious." He pulled her down beside him, nose to nose, eyes unguarded. "I'm just one of the few lucky ones you let see inside. If this was a competition, you'd win. You've had me first. You've had me from the start, Buffy. An' you appeal to all of me, not just bits and pieces. You capture my light, and my dark. There's a lot of both in me."

"Me, too." Buffy confessed, awed again to hear him prove just how he well he knew her. "I'm just good at hiding it."

"From most of the world. We gave each other a pass a long while back."

"Sometimes I think I must not be looking at you hard enough then." Buffy ran her hand from his cheek to his shoulder. "I see a lot of sadness, lot of anger, but nothing so ... dark. Maybe a teeny little trace." She kissed his chin.

" 'Cause you glow so bright, Slayer. Blot out everything in your sunlight. Make me shine."

"I love you."

"Love, you." He struggled. Maybe he hid himself, maybe it was that it ebbed around her, but he must let her know before... well, in case. "So much dark is for you. Because I know... What I feel for you can't be- altogether pure."

"What do you mean?" She asked, breath hitching in suspense.

He rolled onto her with an effort, kissing her. "Want to have you, love you always. Want to... feel like owning and possessing would be the right words, only it's not like that. I could- burn in you and I want you so bloody bad it hurts, and I want you to feel the same. Want it to drive you mad... way you drive me. Need me enough that it makes you ache." He kissed her until both were breathless, then slid off, wide eyed and shocked. What've I done? What've I just said? "Sorry." He gasped.

"Don't be." She grabbed his hand and locked it in hers. "So bad it hurts, huh?"

"I know. Scared you?"

"No... Oh no." Buffy felt thrilled, felt electricity running all over her skin, in particular down to one location.

"So hungry for you." He swallowed. "But soon I'll be able to bite." Which makes me just a bit worried, if I'm honest. 'Cause God, would she taste good... I could devour her. He wasn't thinking of biting now, far from it, but the intensity of his craving almost overwhelmed him.

Her hips moved restlessly beside his. He felt the subtle shifting and looked over. His girl. Burning for him. "I don't want to hurt you, ever." He rolled to his side, one hand slipping free from hers and trailing across her stomach, catching the sudden tensing forward, and then when she let her hips glide down, his hand followed, resting gently between them.

His fingers kneaded gently. "You won't hurt."

"But I might bite." Fingers were less gentle,a deliberate hard push, to remind her that she had to take care. To his shock, her hips widened as she muted a whimper.

"Won't hurt... too much." Her heart thundered and her skin scalded as she realized his fingertips were probably literally wet now. Wet with wanting him.

"Oh no, Buffy, not at all. Not if I could make it feel good." He whispered in her ear. "Don't you know I'd never hurt you if I could help it?"

"You're afraid you can't help it? After?" She moved , but he moved with her, gentle pressure building. "Will..."

"I'm afraid. I'm afraid of a lot of things. So are you. We just have to keep up the act, don't we?"

"With everyone but each other." His head bumped to hers as her hips fed his hand. "You said mutual the other day!" She squeaked as she turned slick.

"Proves what I said." Will withdrew his hand with a hiss. Both of them shuddered at loss of contact. "Around you, I can't help myself." His frustration with himself suddenly boiled over, weeks of swept under the rug worries bursting out. "Around you, I'm dangerous, I forget what I said, what I meant, what limits we -"

"But you don't change what you want." Buffy sat up and put the light on, looking at him seriously. "Maybe the -the how and when changes, but not what."

"Not who." he corrected and cupped her cheek. "Always about you."

She believed him, nodding. "Then we'll be okay. We'll be fine."

"If we can find her."

"We will. And- dark or light, whatever you're afraid of, Will, you don't have to be afraid with me." Buffy said earnestly. She shushed him with a kiss as he was about to protest once more, "Maybe I like the edges, too."


While he slept, he chased her. Kept catching hold of billowing white muslin and gauze, only to find it ripped from his hand with one of her insane giggles. She whispered but he couldn't make out the sounds.

"William. Look over here." Buffy sat in the sun, the beach near their high school, smiling sweetly as she waved to him against the golden background.

"No, no. This way, sweet boy." Drusilla called him in a croon, decidedly unsafe, and yet far more appealing to him just then. She was in moonlight, perched on spires, down in ditches, everywhere all at once. Waiting to consume him.

And he froze in the middle of both worlds, light and darkness bleeding until it burst a vein, and shadows pumped out of him as he drifted back awake.


Buffy woke with a gasp that echoed his. Hard not to wake when your boyfriend rears up, gasping and shaking, spasming himself into a coughing fit as his heart hammered and his lungs tried to sprint. "Take this, take this." She pushed water into his hand and held the inhaler up to his mouth until he could grasp it and depress it. By the time he could breathe again, she was shaking too.

"Hospital?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Hacksaw." He corrected.

"What?" Buffy was genuinely flummoxed.

William staggered up and parted the curtains. Around the red-brick Los Angeles home, in its stately suburbia, was a black wrought iron fence. "We need some of those."

"What?" She asked again, then shook her head. "Not to be boring or anything, but what actually is the only word I need here. What about a hacksaw, what do we need, what's going on?"

He didn't answer directly, too busy looking at the pointed black spears. "She says I'm her Spike. A spike of light in the dark, and dark in the light. She needs to know my name. The name she gave me."

Buffy froze beside him. To hear him talking about Drusilla like that was unnerving, to hear him talking like this at all, half-lost, all cryptic, confused her. Does cancer of the lungs make your brain loopy too? "I don't understand." She touched his arm lightly.

He finally turned to look at her. "I've come to her, but I can't find her. Too big a city, too many people, too many vamps, even." They'd seen a few in their patrols. "Drusilla needs to know I'm here, and I did come to her, just like she said I would. Not William, but Spike."

Buffy watched his eyes narrow and slit. She realized she'd only ever noticed the way the blue eyes danced in laughter, smoked in romance, the way his laughing smile could earn one of her own, no matter what. She never realized his face was so perfect in its lines, and how absolutely cruel and cunning the face could be.

Spike.

Buffy.

William.

Slayer.

Her own face hardened. Fine. We both have two names. He's still mine to call. He's put up with my 'dark side' for years. "Tell me what to do."

"You won't like it." William's lips twisted into a snarl, eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"I said, 'Tell me what to do, Spike." Buffy forced herself between him and the window, forced him to look at her face and read the seriousness on it.

He gripped her hand, he gripped her waist, dragging her to him, to kiss his perfect woman. "You're gonna help me leave calling cards in this city. Slayer."


To be continued...