Blue Horizons
Kantayra

* NC-17 *
SUMMARY: All her life Elizabeth has done exactly what everyone expects of her. Now in her first year of college, she discovers the vast possibilities in life. But can she escape the ghosts of her past and find the courage to explore the new paths before her... including the affections of an infuriating young sophomore named William 'Spike' Giles?

Author's Note: Well, you knew it had to happen sooner or later: Kantayra finally writes an AU. Yeah, I'm pretty freaked that I'll completely blow it, but hopefully it'll work well. I decided to use a college setting because 1) Nearly all AU fics are high school, even though Buffy and Spike really didn't know each other that well until her college years (go figure), and 2) The few college stories that I have read have a very 'high school' feel to them. Given that I'm in my last year of college, hopefully I know what I'm talking about here. ~_^ But this does mean that this story will be much more character focused and based on 'real life' than my previous stories. It will feature many adult themes - both of the good and the bad - so be warned. My final note, especially in the earlier chapters I borrow from the BtVS movie which is rare enough in fanfictiondom that I felt I should just give you a little head's up. So enjoy and please have patience! It make take a while to get to the Spuffiness we all know and love, but it looks to me like it's going to be a great ride... ~Kantayra

Prologue:

Buffy sat on the beach, enjoying the last of the sun's rays. She loved this time of day. The setting sun lit up the horizon, creating a prism of reds, oranges, purples, and blues that scattered throughout the sky and reflected off the ocean beneath it. But what she loved most about dusk was that one moment when the sun's light faded and the world was bathed in a deep, beautiful blue...

"-At least, that's what I heard," Madison stated with a snap of her gum. "Whatta you think, Buffy?"

"Huh?" Buffy's attention turned back to the circle of her friends that had been sunbathing on the beach beside her.

"Darla? Pregnant?" Madison demanded.

"Darla's pregnant?" Buffy said in disbelief.

"That's the rumor anyway," Candy said excitedly. "She wasn't at graduation, you know, and no one's seen her in weeks."

"If no one's seen her," Missy retorted, "it's undoubtedly because Daddy had her rushed off to get an abortion."

Madison rolled her eyes. "It'd be just like Darla to get knocked up at eighteen," she said, carefully examining her nails and pulling out her file when she discovered an imperfection. "I mean, she is such a slut!"

"I totally heard that she blew the entire basketball team at the Homecoming party last year," Candy said conspiratorially. "You ask me, she was just begging for it."

"And rumor had it that you boinked the chess team," Buffy retorted, "so I guess that must be true, too."

Candy's jaw hung open.

"Ooh, busted!" Missy laughed at her friend's distress.

"Jeez," Candy replied, offended, "I was just talking about Darla. There's no reason to go all bitchy on me..."

"I think it's funny," Madison went on. "Chubby Darla gets even fatter." She laughed at what she perceived as her own wittiness.

"Do we even know that she's really pregnant?" Buffy demanded skeptically.

Madison shrugged. "Why else would she miss the last two weeks of school? And graduation?"

"She wasn't even at prom," Candy pointed out.

"Maybe she was sick," Buffy suggested.

"VD," Missy said in delight. "Now there's one for the old rumor mill..."

"No, I just meant..." Buffy let out a little sigh of exasperation. "Who do they say the father is?" she finally asked.

"Who do you think?" Madison retorted.

Buffy's eyes widened and she pulled back as if she'd been slapped. "Y-You don't think...?" she began, gulping slightly. Suddenly, she felt very cold. She wrapped her spare towel around her shoulders and moved to pull her sweatpants up over her suit.

"Oh, grow up, Buffy!" Madison said in annoyance. "So Angel dumped you. You don't have to freak out every time he gets mentioned."

"I'm not freaking out," Buffy insisted, pulling on her sweatshirt as well. "It's just that the sun's set, and it's cold and-"

She was cold, very cold. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore it. It didn't work. Her eyes opened again, and there was Angel, his face twisted into a cold sneer, his eyes as black as the night and just as deadly...

"-I still have some packing to do," Buffy snapped out of her daze, snatching up her towel to go.

"But you'll miss the last night beach party!" Candy protested. "One last night to party down before we all have to go to stupid college..."

"Yeah, well," Buffy said primly, "I can party once I get to 'stupid college'." With that, she walked off into the night.

"What's her damage, anyway?" Madison demanded.

"She's just mad because Angel found out what a stuck-up little brat she is and dumped her on her ass," Missy answered just loudly enough that Buffy could still hear her.

I don't care what they think; I don't care what they think; I don't care what they think, Buffy repeated her mantra over and over again. Soon none of this will matter anymore... No matter what she told herself, the tears will still streaming down her eyes, however.

She suddenly found that her feet weren't taking her home like she intended, but rather were leading her down a familiar side street to the skirts of town. It was dark by the time she reached the graveyard.

She who hangs out in cemeteries, Buffy couldn't help but remember. She winced at the childhood nickname, but in a way it was true. This was where she came to get away from the world...

She wove her way between the stone crosses with ease, the path to the grave she sought well known. She climbed the small hill and froze when she reached the top. The small mausoleum stood out as a black outline against the midnight blue sky. The mausoleum wasn't why she was here, though.

She walked around the small structure to see the one cross that called out to her personally. Quietly, she went over to it, settling herself down beside it and looking at the view before her.

"Hello, Mom," she finally said in a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb the sacred hush that always shrouded this place. "I just wanted to let you know," she began slowly, "that I'll be going away tomorrow. Me in college? Can you believe it?"

She sat for a minute or two, not speaking but just enjoying the silence.

"So," I won't be coming by for a while since I'll be, y'know, on the other side of the country," she finally continued. "I just wanted to let you know," she repeated for emphasis.

The grave didn't respond.

Buffy sat for a little while longer, looking up at the sky. Her mother's grave faced east, so it was always cold at dusk. Buffy often wondered if her mother missed seeing the sunset. As she looked now, the horizon was pitch black.

Slowly, she rose to her feet and made her way home. This was it. After tonight, Sunnydale could be as distant a memory as she wanted it to be. She still felt slightly giddy at the thought that she'd finally be escaping this hellhole. She couldn't think of anything she'd miss, except maybe this - coming to her mother's grave.

But tomorrow everything changed. By the end of the day, she'd be almost three thousand miles away.

And the Buffy Summers she knew would be no more...

Chapter 1:

Bu-Not, not Buffy! she chided herself. Not anymore...

Elizabeth Anne Summers stepped from the bus into the small town of Shady Glen. Behind her, the bus driver unloaded her two huge trunks from the bus' storage compartment. She gave him a grateful little smile and looked around. It was very...small. And kind of old-looking, although not in a bad, dilapidated way.

She heard the bus' engine start up again behind her and watched it drive away. A sudden feeling of panic spread over her. Wasn't someone supposed to be here to meet her? And, if they didn't come, how was she going to find her dorm? She knew absolutely nothing about this town, and it was nine o'clock at night here, and-

As if to reassure all her fears, at that moment the doors to the bus station burst inward, and a petite red-headed woman ran inside, a sign with the name 'Elizabeth' written in bold, precise letters slung over her shoulder. She saw the bus riding off and turned to Elizabeth.

"Please tell me you're Elizabeth Summers," she said, still panting.

"That's me," Elizabeth agreed with a wide smile.

"Hi," the redhead gave her a little finger wave, still panting. "My name is...pant...Willow Rosenberg...gasp...I'm your...gulp...roommate. I'm the one who...pant...e-mailed you."

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed, "I kinda recognized you from your five page description."

Willow chuckled slightly, breath seemingly caught. "So sorry about being late. We had another freshman arrive this morning, and there was this huge mix-up with all his boxes, and we finally got them right before the post office shut down," she said all in a rush, grabbing the handle of one of Elizabeth's trunks and dragging it toward the door.

Elizabeth mirrored her action, struggling to keep apace with the enthusiastic redhead.

"So we had to pile all the stuff out on the curb while the security guard gave us the evil eye for taking so long, and then we had to cart it all the way back to the dorm and unload it since otherwise there wouldn't be any room in the van for your stuff, and..." Willow turned to see Elizabeth's overwhelmed expression. "Sorry," she said with a sheepish grin, "I'm babbling, amn't I?"

"It's OK," Elizabeth assured her, "and I was only here for, like, ten seconds before you."

Willow flashed her a contagious grin. "My freshman year," she said, "the people who were supposed to pick me up were two hours late. I had to sit in the lobby re-reading the same old issue of 'Cat Fancy' until they finally showed up."

Elizabeth laughed. "Well, thanks for saving me from that fate."

"They still have the magazine, too," Willow took a slight detour and picked it up off the small table between the benches. "Page 84, the pros and cons of white versus gray Persians - easily the most boring article ever written."

"Don't know about that," Elizabeth countered, "did you read last month's 'Elle'?"

"Um, no." Willow opened the doors and propped one open with one trunk so that Elizabeth could pull hers though.

"Oh," Elizabeth bit her lip. "Well, it had a really boring article in it."

"I can believe it," Willow agreed. "That's our ride."

She gestured to a beat-up blue van that was parked right in front of the station. A short man with spiky blue-black hair was leaning against it, waiting for them. He quickly got up to take Elizabeth's trunk for her.

"Elizabeth, Oz," Willow introduced. "Oz, Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth," Oz nodded slowly as if he were thoroughly processing her name. "That's cool. You got any nicknames? Liz? Beth?"

"No," Elizabeth said just a shade more vehemently than she had intended.

Oz just kind of blinked in response. "Just Elizabeth," he agreed.

"OK," Willow said, "here's the fun part. We get to move these," she gestured to the two heavy trunks, "up here." She opened the back doors to the van.

Elizabeth winced. "These are pretty heavy..." She looked back and forth between Oz and Willow, neither of whom were exactly the bodybuilding type.

"Trust me," Willow said with a little eye roll, "we can handle it."

Willow laughed at that, and Oz did this little half-smile thing.

"Away from the parents for the first time?" Oz inquired.

"Well, not really," Elizabeth said after thinking for a minute. "My parents travel a lot for work," she explained.

"Oh, do I sympathize," Willow agreed. "My Mom's at conferences all the time."

"My Dad vanished to Hong Kong for two years," Elizabeth retorted.

"It took my Mom eight months to realize I'd cut off all my hair."

"I didn't find out that my Dad had married my Step-mom until after the wedding."

"My Dad once mistook one of my friends for me," Willow countered. "And rumor has it he can't even identify my Mom."

"I left home the instant I turned sixteen," Oz fully acknowledged that he couldn't compete with their tales of woe.

"Lucky," Elizabeth muttered before she could stop herself.

Willow laughed at her guilty look. "Parent bashing is encouraged," she informed her, "especially during orientation."

"So," Elizabeth asked, "where are you two from?"

"D.C."

"Pretty much everywhere."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at Oz's response.

"The longest I've ever stayed in one place has been here," he explained, making a right turn into a back alley. "Shortcut," he said to Elizabeth's curious look.

"Cool," Elizabeth nodded, "this is the first time I've been out of California."

"What do you think of the trees?" Oz inquired. "First time I went to California and saw the vegetation I completely freaked out."

Elizabeth tries to picture Oz freaking out and couldn't quite manage it. He seemed so mellow that blinking a lot probably counted as 'freaking out', though... "It's weird," she admitted, "but kinda like the movies."

"So speaks the person who lives near Hollywood," Willow joked.

Elizabeth laughed. "Yeah, well, they'll come into your house to film, but they'll travel halfway around the world for the exteriors..." She looked out the window at the old-style Victorian houses they were passing. "Just like the ones here."

"Ooh!" Willow suddenly exclaimed in delight. "Have you ever seen snow before?"

"Nope," Elizabeth shook her head. "I've heard you've got it here, though."

"Just a little," Oz commented.

"More like snowdrifts so high you can't get to class in the morning," Willow clarified Oz's sarcasm to Elizabeth. "You've got boots, right? And a coat? And snow pants?"

Elizabeth laughed at the worried expression on Willow's face. "Yes, I did get your list of things to bring."

"Good," Willow breathed a sigh of relief. "So, this means you've never been in a snowball fight, huh?" she said with an evil little grin.

"Finally, someone Willow has a chance in hell of hitting," Oz joked.

Willow playfully batted him on the shoulder before seeming to recognize something out the window. "You taking us to the delivery entrance?" she asked.

"Yup," Oz agreed, pulling to a halt. "Welcome to Westing Hall," he announced.

"The freaky back entrance," Willow amended. "It's closer to the stairs, so we won't have to carry your stuff so far."

"Sounds good," Elizabeth agreed, getting out of the van.

She and Oz pushed the trunks out onto the ground while Willow ran up to the large stone building and propped open the doors. They dragged the trunks inside, and Elizabeth flinched when she saw the staircase in front of them.

"Spiral, just to make it extra easy to carry stuff up and down," Willow agreed with a bit of a grimace.

"Yeah, who designed that?" Elizabeth wanted to know.

"This building was originally for classrooms," Oz informed her. "It got converted into a gym after that, and then a cafeteria."

"But they kept parts of the third floor intact, even when they hollowed out the interior," Willow added. "Hence our unique living conditions."

" 'Unique'?" Elizabeth asked.

"House of ten," Willow explained, "smallest on campus."

"But I thought-" Elizabeth began.

"Forty," Willow nodded. "The other thirty are on the far side of the cafeteria," she gestured through the large wooden doors to their right, "over there. The ten of us are cut off all by ourselves."

"It's useful for not having to remember a lot of names," Oz commented, beginning his ascent.

Willow took the other handle of Elizabeth's trunk, and together they lifted it.

"Be prepared to flee if I drop this trunk and it comes careening down the stairs at you," Oz joked wryly.

"Break both our backs," Elizabeth retorted, "and you'll have to carry up all the stuff I had shipped by yourself!"

"There's more?" Willow groaned.

"Only half a dozen or so boxes," Elizabeth assured her, "and they're nowhere near this heavy."

"Meet Oz," Willow joked, "your new best friend...and coincidently the only one with a car as well."

"I expect complete sycophantic behavior," Oz joked, reaching the third floor and dropping the trunk with a loud thump.

"Hear that?" Willow encouraged Elizabeth. "Almost there."

The trunk finally bounced up the top stair, and the two women stopped to rest for a minute, using the trunk as a seat.

"Not so bad," Elizabeth finally declared, wincing.

"You want the name of a good chiropractor?" Willow teased.

Elizabeth smiled. "OK, you got me. That was brutal." She was amazed at just how quickly she'd decided that she liked Willow. The other girl hadn't managed to rub her the wrong way once so far, putting her completely at ease.

"Ready to go down the hall?" Willow asked.

Elizabeth nodded.

Willow counted past the door numbers as they passed. "Three-one-one, three-one-two, three-one-three, ah...three-fourteen, good old pi room..."

"Pi room?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Three point one four," Oz provided from within the twelve by twelve foot room that looked more like a TV lounge than a dorm room, "pi."

"Congratulations," Willow said with a sheepish smile, "you're roomed with a math nerd."

"Lucky me," Elizabeth set the trunk down in the center of the room.

"Now," Willow said, "before I forget..."

She dug around in a drawer of the end table by the couch. "Here is your room key," she handed a small silver key to Elizabeth, "and here's the dorm one, and..." more fiddling in the drawer, "here's the kitchen. Only rule is, if you use the kitchen, you have to clean up afterwards. You lose any of the keys, I'll hafta find you, so don't."

Elizabeth fastened the three keys to her ring. "Think I can manage that," she agreed.

"Good," Willow said, pulling out a piece of paper. "Now, if you'll just sign so housing knows I did my job and gave you your keys..."

Elizabeth quickly signed and dated the form. 'Elizabeth Anne Summers', she looked at her signature. It looked nice, different...

"Your job?" Elizabeth inquired. "Are you the RA?"

"Sort of," Willow replied. "We're too small a house for a real RA, so at the end of every year we vote a returning student to fill the position."

"Unanimous vote last year," Oz commented.

"So you're a...?" Elizabeth asked.

"Senior," Willow replied. "Actually graduating this year. Very cool and very scary."

"What in?" Elizabeth asked, looking down at the spot on the couch next to Oz.

"Sit down," Willow insisted. "After all, it's your room, too."

Elizabeth sat, and Willow took the beat-up armchair across from them.

"Biology and computer science," Willow answered.

"She was doing physics, too, last year," Oz added, "but even the undefeatable Willow caved in when she saw she'd have a lab four days a week."

"Even I have my limits," Willow agreed with a laugh.

"What about you?" Elizabeth asked Oz.

"Non-graduating senior," he shrugged, "also known as a second-year junior. I just switched to philosophy last spring."

"Philosophy?" Elizabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You're gonna get a job thinking?"

"Actually I've already got a job playing guitar," Oz clarified.

"Oz is in this really cool band," Willow gestured to the poster behind her, "Dingoes Ate My Baby."

"So I see," Elizabeth nodded at the poster.

"What about you?" Willow asked. "What do you do?" She proceeded to slap herself in the forehead. "If you know, of course. I mean, most freshmen don't, so you shouldn't feel pressured to-"

"Breathe," Oz advised.

Willow took a deep breath. "Good idea," she agreed.

"It's OK," Elizabeth assured. "I'm an Econ major."

"You and Anya," Willow commented. "Just please tell me you don't fondle your money, too..."

"Fondle my money?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief.

"That's Anya," Oz agreed.

"Last year Dru decided to pull this prank on her and rearranged all her furniture while she was in class," Willow added. "So Anya comes back, sees her room, and instantly says: 'I demand monetary compensation!' It was kind of hilarious."

Elizabeth chuckled. "And Dru is?"

"She graduated last year," Oz provided.

"Oh yeah," Willow shook her head. "I'll mention all sorts of people you've never heard of. Just hit me when I do it."

"It's a deal," Elizabeth agreed with a wry grin.

"So, yeah, this is home," Willow gestured to the room. "The bedroom's in back. I kinda put both the beds in that room, so we can use this one as a common room. We're too small to have a lounge, and all the rooms are filled right now...but if it's a problem, we can switch things up. Really. Right now. Do you wanna switch it?"

"It's fine," Elizabeth assured her. She then flashed Willow a guilty, apologetic look. "I'm not actually sure how long I'll be staying here," she admitted. "I'm rushing Tri Xi, so it'll probably only be a couple of weeks..."

"That other girls' doing that, too," Oz commented. "Kathy."

"And then Cordy'll be able to move back in next semester," Willow agreed. "It's OK. Really."

Elizabeth breathed a little sigh of relief. She hadn't been too excited about telling her roommate the first day that she'd be moving out. Willow seemed to just take everything in stride, however.

"I think I'm gonna crash," Oz announced. "Moving three freshmen in in one day...that even wears me out."

"'Night, Oz," Willow flashed him a little wave as he got up.

"'Night," Elizabeth agreed, "and thanks for helping with my stuff."

"No problem," he said before vanishing into the room across the hall.

"Do you wanna get something to eat?" Willow asked. "I know it's late, but..."

"I already ate," Elizabeth lied. "Plus, I kinda wanna get settled in, get some sleep myself..."

"Do you want any help?" Willow asked as Elizabeth opened her first trunk.

"No," Elizabeth assured her. "I'm sure you've got things you'd rather be doing anyway..."

"Well, I was supposed to drop my O-Chem text off at my girlfriend's..." Willow thought to herself before her eyes widened in alarm again. "I did mention that I'm a lesbian, right?" And you're OK with that? I mean, normally I would just say 'live with it', but since we're actually living together and all, it would be really, really bad if you were uncomfortable, and-"

"I'm fine," Elizabeth cut her off, laughing. "And you mentioned it in your e-mail. Like, eight times."

"Sorry," Willow said sheepishly, "I tend to get carried away."

"I've noticed," Elizabeth said with a small smile. "Now, go meet that girlfriend of yours."

"She's really great," Willow said with a love struck grin. "Her name is Tara. You'll love her." Her eyes widened with alarm. "But, oh! We won't do anything...y'know, in our room, since you're living there, too."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Elizabeth assured her.

"You sure you won't be lonely?" Willow asked nervously. "All the other freshmen already went out, and Oz is sleeping, and Devon's stoned out of his mind, and no one else has arrived yet..."

"All I want to do is sleep," Elizabeth insisted. "It was a long flight..."

"Ok, then," Willow agreed. "Bathroom's at the end of the hall. It's labeled. Instructions for dialing out are on the phone. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. I think that's it..."

"Go, sweep Tara off her feet," Elizabeth teased.

Willow's face turned beet red. "Normally I'm not like this," she assured her, "but Tara just got back into town yesterday, and I haven't seen her yet..."

"Have fun," Elizabeth said with a wave.

Willow grabbed her textbook and purse and dashed from the room.

Elizabeth chuckled to herself as she removed the bare essentials from her trunk. She quickly made the empty bed in their bedroom before heading off in search of the bathroom. It was conveniently right next to them. She brushed her teeth before setting off to explore their floor.

Her and Willow's door had two college printed nametags that read "Willow Rosenberg, '99' and 'Elizabeth Summers, '03'.

Across the hall from them, the nametags had been removed and replaced with a 'Dingoes Ate My Baby' poster. The names 'Oz' and 'Devon' were written upon it in black permanent marker.

Next to them was 'Anya Jenkins, '02' - the Anya Elizabeth had been told about, she presumed.

Next was 'Kathy Ashton, '03'. That was the other Tri Xi girl. Elizabeth made note to talk to her as soon as possible.

'Jonathan Levenson, '03' was right by the stairs. Elizabeth was pretty sure he was the one Oz had said had the problems with shipping.

That left her side of the hall...and three names she didn't recognize. 'Faith Vlore, '03', 'William Giles, '02', and 'Alexander Harris, '03'. Faith's door didn't have anything else on it. Alexander's had the 'Ale' in his first name crossed out. 'Xander', Elizabeth gathered. William's...

For some reason that was unfathomable to her, his door was covered with little yellow sticky notes that said things like "Welcome back, 'William'," "Nice nametag, 'William'," "Hey there, 'William'." In all of them, the name 'William' appeared in quotes. Elizabeth couldn't quite figure it out and decided it was too late to bother trying.

With a yawn, she headed off to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a big day...

Chapter 2:

"Sum-mers," Elizabeth said in a slow, careful voice. "Sum-mers. S-U-M-M-E-R-S. Summers."

At the register next to her, Faith was having the exact same problem. "Vlo-re," she leaned forward onto the table, hoping enhanced views of her cleavage would encourage better service. "Vlo-re. V-L-O-R-E."

"Hang on, I'll check." Faith's postal agent had apparently been inspired and ducked into the room in back.

"What'd I say?" Faith said with a wry grin. "Works every time." She turned to where Elizabeth was waiting for her agent to look something up on the computer. "This is insane, hey E?"

"No kidding," Elizabeth agreed.

"I'm terribly sorry, miss," the woman behind the counter offered her an apologetic smile, "but we're always swamped at the beginning of the school year. And now our computer system is malfunctioning, and-"

"Faith Vlore," Faith's agent returned. "It was just the three?"

"Four," Faith emphasized.

He sighed and slid the three boxes from the handcart to search for her missing shipment.

"At least you're three fourths of the way there," Elizabeth sighed. "I'm still stuck at square one..."

"How are we doing?" Xander and Oz reentered the post office and slipped through the line to where Elizabeth and Faith were waiting. Xander had gotten his boxes in all of one minute. Elizabeth had, after much consideration, decided it would be unfair to kill him because of this fact.

"Number four for Vlore," Faith's agent announced proudly. "If you'll just sign here..."

"I am so out of here!" Faith agreed, heaving the first of her boxes into her arms.

Elizabeth waited for her agent and guarded box number four while Xander, Oz, and Faith carried out to the van. Her stuff still hadn't been located by the time they returned.

"We're just gonna make a quick run back to the dorm," Oz informed her, "get Faith's stuff dropped off. We'll be right back."

"Go ahead," Elizabeth agreed. "It looks like I'll be a while."

"Do you want someone to stay with you?" Xander offered, lifting up the last of Faith's boxes. "Keep you company?" He had this odd kind of hopeful look in his eyes.

"I'll be fine," Elizabeth assured him. "Faith's boxes need you."

He flashed her a shy little grin and turned to go back outside.

"See ya, E," Faith said as she headed out.

"Be back soon," Elizabeth agreed, "...hopefully..."

"You did say Elizabeth Summers?" her agent finally asked. "Because I just found our master list, and the only Summers is..."

"Buffy," Elizabeth muttered under her breath. "Yeah, that's me."

"The six, then?" the agent inquired.

"Yeah." Elizabeth's face was flushing a bright red. Why exactly couldn't she have remembered to use her full name while shipping?

The six boxes quickly appeared and were signed for. A strategic technique of moving each three feet at a time finally got her and them out to the curb.

As she sat and waited for Oz's van to return, she carefully blacked out the nametag of each box. The name was something she didn't need a reminder of. "Here one day, and already it's popped back up," she grumbled under her breath.

"You waiting for someone?" A voice suddenly broke into her train of thought.

She looked up to see...a guy. Tall, athletic, broad-shouldered, blond, bland - exactly her type. He flashed her a wide grin, and she managed a little smile in response.

"A ride," she gestured to the boxes. "Can't carry all these home by myself."

He nodded in agreement. "You want some company?"

"Sure." She kept her expression bright. This was the sort of thing that was supposed to happen at college, right? Meet good-looking guy...

"I'm Riley Finn," he sat down on the curb beside her.

"Bu-er, Elizabeth Summers," she replied. Inwardly, she was slapping herself. She hadn't made that mistake since she first got here, but something about Riley reminded her of...

"So, Elizabeth," he said with a broad grin. "You're a freshman?"

"That obvious, huh?" she said with a sigh.

"You've kind of got that stunned rabbit look to you," he agreed.

She managed a wry laugh. "Yeah, well, moving in and registering for classes - it all makes for a fun, stress-filled weekend."

He glanced at her in an appraising way that she was all too familiar with. "If you want a break," he informed her, "there's a party at Delta Phi tonight."

"Don't classes start tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah," he agreed, "so it's the last night we'll get to party for a while. You should come."

"I'll think about it," she assured him just as she saw Oz's van rounding the corner. "My ride," she informed him, getting to her feet.

His brow furrowed as he rose as well. "Osborne," he said coolly when Oz stepped from the van.

Oz's eyes narrowed slightly. It was the most vehement reaction Elizabeth had seen from him so far. "Finn." He proceeded to walk around the larger man to retrieve one of Elizabeth's boxes.

"You know this guy?" Riley turned to Elizabeth. He saw that she was lifting one of the boxes on her own and immediately moved to take it from her.

Elizabeth bit her lip. Something was going on here, and she didn't quite know what it was. "We live across the hall from each other," she agreed.

Oz purposefully brushed Riley aside as he grabbed a second box. Not to be outdone, Riley quickly put his first into the van. Elizabeth moved to grab the last one, but Riley quickly took it from her.

"I've got it," he said simply.

Xander watched the strange three-way dynamic, just as confused as Elizabeth was.

"A word of friendly advice," Riley finally said. "There are all kinds of different people here..." He looked pointedly at Oz. "Some are better to associate with than others."

Oz's eyes were narrowed to slits by now, but he didn't respond, climbing into the driver's seat of the van instead. "Let's go," he said simply.

"See you tonight," Riley said confidently to Elizabeth before walking off.

She and Xander exchanged a confused look before climbing into the van. "Someone care to tell me what that was about?" Xander asked.

"What?" Faith, who had not left the van, asked.

"If you can't say something nice..." Oz began, a hint of anger in his voice.

"What?" Faith repeated, curious now.

"Some guy named Riley Finn," Elizabeth explained. "I get a feeling there's some history..." She looked pointedly at Oz.

He sighed. "Finn's from an entirely different world," he explained. "Big brass military family. Doesn't take to poor 'draft-dodging hippies' well."

"You're a hippie?" Elizabeth asked, confused.

"I'm 'that sort' of people," Oz shrugged. "Finn's got a black-and-white world view, and if you're not exactly like him..." He shook his head. "I shouldn't be saying all this."

"That hunk of lunchmeat?" Faith looked out the window. "Wound up tight...but he might still be fun for a quick roll..."

Xander and Elizabeth both blushed and looked away, still unused to Faith's bluntness. Oz seemed oblivious.

"I'm not saying anything more," the young musician said simply, "but you want the full story on Finn, you just ask Spike."

" 'Spike'?" Elizabeth repeated in disbelief.

"He'll probably show up some time tonight," Oz clarified as they arrived at their dorm.

Moving Elizabeth's stuff upstairs was a simple, if tiring, affair, and they all rested in Elizabeth and Willow's outer-room-cum-house-lounge while they waited for the other freshmen to materialize out of Westing Hall's masonry.

"Jonathan's taking his placement tests this morning," Oz explained. "He should be back around noon. Does anyone know where Kathy is?"

"Maybe she went to register early," Faith suggested, flipping through her course guide. "Whattaya think, E, art history or music history?"

Elizabeth made a wry face. "Do I hafta choose?"

"Graduation requirement," Faith agreed.

"Why?" Elizabeth complained. "It's not like I'll ever use that stuff..."

"And I never used my math courses for anything," Oz pointed out, "but I'm still glad I took them."

"It's cruel and unusual that I still have to take math," Elizabeth decided.

"I think labs are what are cruel and unusual," Xander countered. "Four whole hours?"

"Bio or physics?" Oz asked.

"I haven't decided," Xander shrugged.

"Do bio," Oz advised. "Lab section five. Willow's the proctor. She'll be ultra-efficient and get you out early."

Faith, Elizabeth, and Xander exchanged a look. "Sold!" they announced in perfect unison, laughing as they filled out the time slot.

"There," Elizabeth said, "I think I'm done."

"Whatcha got?" Faith leaned over to look at her schedule. "Bio, math," - Elizabeth made a face - "English, and Econ. Fun," Faith said sarcastically.

"My back-ups are even funner," Elizabeth said with a grimace.

"Not as fun as mine," Faith teased. "Math's my number one back-up."

"I've got art history," Elizabeth countered.

"Math is so much worse," Faith retorted.

"Depends who's teaching," Oz commented with a shrug.

At that moment, enthusiastic footsteps sounded up the stairwell, sounding like a whole herd of kangaroos. Kathy burst into the lounge several seconds later. "Guess where I've been?" she asked cheerfully, not waiting for a response before answering. "Tri Xi was having this bake sale to encourage rushers, and they let me help out! It was super fun!"

"What?" Elizabeth's face fell. "I missed it?"

"It's OK," Kathy reassured her. "It was totally optional. But, guess what? Delta Phi's holding this awesome party tonight, and-"

Oz snorted derisively.

"You've got a problem?" Kathy demanded testily.

"I wouldn't recommend binge drinking the night before classes start, yeah," Oz said simply enough.

Kathy rolled her eyes. "Oh, what do you know?" She turned back to Elizabeth. "C'mon, we so have to go! I'll introduce you to all the sisters and everything!"

Elizabeth had the irrational feeling that dozens - no, hundreds - of people were staring at her, waiting to judge her decision. She forced a smile onto her face. "Sure," she agreed.

"Spiffy!" Kathy exclaimed. "Quick, let's go now, stop by the house and-"

"Registration," Oz pointed out.

Kathy cast him an annoyed look. "We can do that later," she insisted. "C'mon, who's with me?" She looked pointedly at Elizabeth.

"Er, yeah," she agreed, picking up her registration to take with her. "Can I just drop this off real quick?"

Kathy let out a resigned sigh. "But you'd better hurry up," she finally agreed.

* * *

Elizabeth and Kathy waited at the end of a decent-sized line of freshmen while Kathy babbled about everything that had happened thus far. "So then Cindy tells me that she, like, totally used to go out with him, but then he got all into debate and dropped football. I mean, what kind of loser would-"

"Who is this?" Elizabeth abruptly realized she should be paying attention.

"Oz's freshman roommate," Kathy rolled her eyes. "I mean, who does he think he is, anyway? All, 'I'm in a band. I'm so cool. Everybody look at what a great freak I am'," she did a horrible impression. Of what, Elizabeth could only guess.

"Oz?" she said in disbelief. "He seems nice. What've you got against Oz?"

"He refused to date Sarah, for one," Kathy retorted.

"And Sarah is...?"

"Secretary/Treasurer of Tri Xi!" Kathy exclaimed. "How could you possibly not know who Sarah is?"

"Oh," Elizabeth tried to chuckle wryly and act like she'd known all along, "that Sarah."

"Yeah, well," Kathy went on, "she's a Wilmington. As in the bankers?"

"Yeah, my dad works with them," Elizabeth agreed.

"That common little punk refused her," Kathy said in disbelief. "In front of, like, half the sisters. Like that little rodent thinks he's better than her or something!"

"Maybe he just wasn't interested," Elizabeth shrugged.

"He's just a loser, is what," Kathy retorted. "And don't even get me started of the others. Did you know that Xander's the first in his family to even go to college? Faith, too. And could she be any more of a whore? All those skanky, black clothes... And Jonathan. Let's just say Nerd Central. I mean, who places out of calculus?"

"Math majors?" Elizabeth said, starting to feel decidedly uncomfortable. This just felt so much like home - a sensation she'd thankfully avoided thus far.

"Exactly," Kathy agreed, oblivious to Elizabeth's thoughts. "Losers. What kind of school sticks people like us in dorms with such freaks anyway?"

"I think it was done randomly," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Your dad's Summers of Stockton and Associates Consulting, right?" Kathy demanded.

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed.

"So, don't you think you're entitled to something a little better?"

"The people here don't know who my dad is," she pointed out.

"Oh god!" Kathy exclaimed into her hands. "We're trapped in a school for losers. This used to be a cool place, you know, very prestigious, back before they let all the riff-raff in..."

"Maybe it's not so bad as you think," Elizabeth suggested. "After all, classes haven't even started yet."

"True," Kathy agreed. "Things should pick up after we get out of that hellhole of a dorm and in with actual cool people."

"Yeah..." Elizabeth said reluctantly. Truth be told, the only person she'd met so far that she disliked was Kathy.

"Isn't this line ever gonna move? Kathy complained.

"You can go ahead without me," Elizabeth offered.

"Really?" Kathy said hopefully. "'Cause I wanna help Cindy decorate for the party tonight, and-"

"Go ahead," Elizabeth assured her. "I'll catch up."

"Great," Kathy said with a broad smile. "You are so cool, Elizabeth." She thought for a second. "You need a nickname," she decided, "something less...blah, Elizabeth. What about 'Bitsy'? That's cute..."

"Not Bitsy," Elizabeth cringed.

"All right then," Kathy shrugged, "you think of one. See ya later! Bye! Bye!" And, with that, she dashed off.

"Good riddance," Elizabeth muttered under her breath.

* * *

"Hi, pumpkin!" Hank Summers' voice over the phone was the first thing that greeted her when she returned to her room.

"Hi, Daddy!" she tried to sound bright and cheerful, instead of completely exhausted. Inwardly, she was wincing at the report she had to give him and wishing she could put it off just a little bit longer. He would not be pleased at what she had to say...

"So, how are things way over in New York?" he asked in a tone more appropriate to someone half her age. In all fairness, though, that was the last any he'd spent any time with her.

"Fine," she said with a wry laugh. "Where are you?"

"Sunnydale, actually," he replied. "I had a meeting in LA and decided to make a quick drop by. Your family's all doing fine, but we miss you, Buffy."

"Elizabeth," she reminded him.

There was an annoyed sigh at the other end. "You're not keeping up that ridiculous plan of yours, are you?"

"Elizabeth's my name!" she insisted.

"You'll always be my little Buffy," he said in a way she was sure was supposed to sound reassuring. She decided it was more condescending. "So," he said, "did you sign up for classes and everything?"

"Yes, Daddy," she agreed.

"Did you get the good ones?"

"I decided to get all the requirements out of the way first," she hedged.

"Oh. What are you taking?" he demanded.

"Bio, English, American history, and art history." She crossed her fingers and hoped that the list would meet with his approval. Econ had been booked up, and she really hadn't felt like doing math this semester...

"That's a bit...frivolous, don't you think?" he finally commented.

"I need them all to graduate," she pointed out.

"Shouldn't you at least take an econ class?" he demanded. "Get a head start on your major..."

"Intro was full," she informed him. "I'll take it next semester."

"Do you want me to call the school?" he asked. "Get you in?"

"No, dad," she insisted, "it's just fine."

"I've got a friend of a friend who's on the board of directors..."

"I'll take it later!" she exclaimed.

He sighed. "All right then," he finally agreed. "Go easy your first semester - not a bad idea. Allow you to get more partying in, am I right? Have you met the girls over at Tri Xi yet?"

"Nope," Elizabeth said, "too busy today. There's a party tonight, though."

"Good," Hank said brightly. "You go and have fun. Some friends of mine have kids there, too. You might want to try meeting-"

"Dad!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

He chuckled. "Right, sweetie," he agreed. "You'll meet them yourself. I just want to know that someone's looking out for my little girl..."

"I'll be fine, Dad," she repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Great," he said enthusiastically. "Good luck with your big day tomorrow!"

"Thanks, dad. Bye, dad." She hung up with a sigh of relief.

"Given your high levels of enthusiasm, I'm guessing that was a parent you just hung up on," Willow entered their room with a wry smile.

"My dad," Elizabeth agreed, flopping back onto the bed with a weary sigh. "Just called to give me the annual 'I may be an absentee father, but I still insist on running your life' speech."

Willow winced. "My dad wanted me to go to Harvard," she agreed. "My mom wanted me to go to Columbia. Fortunately, neither of them were home the month college applications were due, so I got to do what I wanted."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah, I'm sort of hoping my dad will just forget about me."

"Don't worry about it," Willow assured her. "Once school starts, you'll be too caught up in work to even think about it."

"This is supposed to be encouraging?" Elizabeth laughed.

Willow chuckled as well. "Maybe not," she agreed, "but it's true." She checked her watch. "Dinning hall opens soon. Do you wanna eat dinner?"

Elizabeth was torn. "I promised Kathy I'd help her set up for the Delta Phi party..." she began.

Willow batted one hand in the air dismissively. "There'll be plenty of time for that once you rush," she insisted. "Come, eat with us while you're still here."

Elizabeth didn't really need to be persuaded. To tell the truth, she felt more like sleeping five days than going out to a party this evening - especially since she had to be up bright and early for class tomorrow morning. So, she joined Willow in her trip down to the dinning hall.

Now, college was supposed to be a pivotal life-changing experience. She knew that. What she didn't know, as she sat down at the Westing House table next to a peroxide blond she'd never seen before, was that this was that moment in her life. The one that would change everything...

Chapter 3:

Spike turned and raised one quizzical eyebrow at the little blond that sat next to him. "Kathy or Elizabeth?" he demanded before she'd even fully noticed his presence.

Elizabeth turned and her first response was - well, she bit back her first response. Second was retro much? "Elizabeth," she informed him primly, taking in his earring and scarred eyebrow disapprovingly.

"'Lizabeth," he repeated. "Summers, right?"

"That's me."

Honestly, black leather and white hair! Who did he think he was impressing anyway? Certainly not her. Well, except for the gorgeous cheekbones and blue eyes and sexy accent and... Are you crazy? Her mind screamed to her sex drive. He couldn't possibly be less your type!

"And you are?" She made sure her inquiry was as cool and disinterested as possible.

"Spike," he flashed her a cocky smile and extended one hand.

Reluctantly, she accepted it, and before she knew what was happening, he'd panted a gentle kiss on her wrist, just right on the sensitive pulse point... She jerked her hand back as if it had been burned.

"Nice ta meet you, Summers," he said, looking completely unashamed of himself.

Her face flushed a bright crimson, and she quickly turned to her salad. "I don't seem to recall there being a 'Spike' in our house," she commented coolly.

"Oh!" Willow's hands fluttered into the air. "Now that we're all here, we can do introductions! Oh, except Kathy's not here..."

"Still," Spike commented, "introductions are fun. Innit that right, Summers?"

She clenched her fork a bit tighter and shoved the greens into her mouth. She had never met a man that she so quickly wanted to...kill. Yeah, that was it, kill... "I can do Kathy's bit," she offered politely to Willow, ignoring the irritating young man beside her.

"Great," Willow said with a bright smile, "so we'll just do name, where we're from, major, year, and...er, whatever else you want. I'll start. I'm Willow Rosenberg, DC, bio and compsci, senior, and...er, head of the local Wiccan coven." She turned to the blond Elizabeth didn't recognize on her left. "Your turn."

The blond rolled her eyes and mimed chewing the last bite of her food before speaking. "Anya Jenkins. Kiev, New York, Hong Kong, Tokyo, and sometimes Stockholm. Econ. Sophomore. If anyone needs a tutor in anything, I'm willing to do it...for money," she added cheerfully.

"Ah, how we've all missed you, Anyanka," Spike joked.

Anya gave him a dirty look. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" she demanded. "I could sue you."

" 'The cost 'f acquirin' a lawyer outweighs your annoyingness...for the moment'," Spike quoted back at her.

"I have peas," Anya countered. "I can quite easily flick them across the table at you."

"An' I've got corn," Spike threatened.

Oz stilled his hand. "Let's try to go at least one day without a food-fight," he suggested, obviously amused. "We don't want to scare off all the freshmen."

"Fine," Anya sulked and lowered her spoon from where it had been poised to catapult a pea straight at Spike's head. "I'm done," she added, abruptly perky again.

Next to her, Jonathan gulped. "J-Jonathan Levenson," he began nervously. "M-Math... What were the other questions?"

"Where you're from and what year you are," Willow provided helpfully.

"Seattle. Freshman." He shut up like a clam, studying his food intently and blushing horribly.

"Faith?" Willow quickly stepped to his rescue.

Faith flashed a sultry smile to the large bulk of the male population that sat across from her. "Faith Vlore," she informed them, checking each out in turn and deciding that living here would be fun. "I'm a freshman from Boston. I don't know what I want to major in yet, so..." she cast a hungry look in Devon's direction, "any advice you can give me would be...appreciated." Her eyes flicked over to Spike, and she licked her lips. "Verrry appreciated," she amended.

He gave her a sexy little smirk in response. "Haven't quite decided yet myself, pet," he responded flirtatiously, "but you're welcome to come over to my room any time you like to talk about it..."

"Count on it." Faith appraised him again and found out he was even better looking the second time over.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the man beside her. "Pig," she grumbled under her breath before speaking up. "I'm Elizabeth Summers from Sunnydale - that's near LA. I'm a freshman econ major."

Spike groaned. "Not another one!" he complained. "We've already got our hands full with Anyanka! Please, tell me you don' talk to your money, too?"

"My name is Anya," Anya insisted, "and I was not talking to it! I was merely clucking in a comforting manner after you scared it."

"See?" Spike whispered conspiratorially in Elizabeth's ear. "She thinks it's human. Downright creepy at times."

"I heard that," Anya informed him. "I still have peas!"

"No food-fights," Willow reminded her.

Anya grumbled in a resigned manner.

"Guess I'm doing Kathy next, huh?" Elizabeth dared to speak up again.

"Lucky Kathy," Spike muttered under his breath.

Elizabeth's eyes shot wide open before she turned back to pointedly ignoring him. "So, yeah, about Kathy..."

A cheerful voice from behind interrupted her, however. "What's this about me?" Kathy inquired.

"Oh, Kathy, good, you're here!" Willow said. "You can introduce yourself to everyone."

Kathy let out a put-upon sigh. "I'm Kathy," she said primly. "Kathy Ashton. Of the Vermont Ashtons. I'll be moving out into Tri Xi next week." She turned to Elizabeth. "C'mon, Bitsy, we need to help set up for the party."

" 'Bitsy'?" Spike repeated, amused.

Elizabeth cast him a dirty look before turning back to Kathy. " 'Bitsy'?" she herself demanded.

"I still think it's cute," Kathy shrugged. "Let's get out of here."

"I'd kind of like to...finish eating," Elizabeth finished lamely. Truth be told, she was quite aware of the fact that Spike would be going next and felt the irrational urge to seek revenge on the peroxide blond.

"There'll be food there," Kathy insisted impatiently.

Spike snorted derisively. "Beer an' Doritos - all part 'f a balanced diet," he said sarcastically.

Kathy gave him an annoyed look. "Was I talking to you?" she snarked.

"No," Spike said in a low growl, "you were jus' interruptin' our conversation. Don't the 'Vermont Ashtons' know any manners?"

"As if!" Kathy exclaimed. "And who do you think you are, anyway? Like, the eighties are so dead..."

"I know exactly who I am," Spike retorted. "Do you? Do you have even the slightest identity below that cheap cardboard exterior?"

"Not!" Kathy retorted.

"Sorry," he said with an evil little smirk, "I meant 'overpriced plastic exterior'..."

Kathy looked visibly flummoxed. "E-Elizabeth..."

"I'll catch up to you later," Elizabeth insisted, studying Spike intently and trying to determine whether or not he'd just intentionally bailed her out. Kathy practically fled from the scene, and Elizabeth turned back to Spike. "Asshole much?" she felt obliged to at least put up a token defense for Kathy's sake.

"What?" he retorted snidely. "You buy every little thing your television tells you to, too?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "At least I'm not trying to impress everyone by dressing all in black and then shooting off my big, loud mouth."

"Yeah, you're right. You don' have to shoot it off. Your mouth's big enough that you don't need to."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Elizabeth said with false sweetness, "did I break your Big Bad delusions?"

"Did I break yours?" he retorted in just as saccharine a tone. "Go on, tell us how much you love econ. Is it because your Daddy told you to?"

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

"Pig."

"Stuck-up chit."

"Prick."

"Oh, you'd better believe it, baby," he retorted with a lascivious smirk.

She watched his tongue run up under his teeth. His face was only inches from hers now, their bodies having moved closer together with each insult as if drawn together by some kind of magnetic attraction. Elizabeth suddenly felt the nearly irresistible urge to reach out and just...throttle him. Yeah, that was it... She pulled back instead, a coy little smile on her face.

"They say," she informed him matter-of-factly, "that show-off guys - you know the type," she glanced up and down at him, "dress to stand out, get angry easily... - are usually virtual eunuchs."

Spike's face flushed a deep red, and he pulled back, his eyes wide.

Across the table Anya was laughing hysterically. "Beaten by a freshman!" she exclaimed between giggles. "Too priceless!"

Spike cast Anya an annoyed look and turned back to the table, seemingly ignoring the fact that his argument with Elizabeth had ever occurred. "Remember to breathe, Anyanka," he said with one eyebrow raised.

"Too funny!" She finally began to calm down.

"Are we all right now?" Willow asked nervously. "We're not already falling apart even though school hasn't started yet, are we? Are we?!"

"We're fine," Spike reassured her with a little smile, his eyes turning to Elizabeth and staring at her pointedly.

She noticed just how blue his eyes were once again and that cute way his scarred eyebrow quirked upward and... She shook herself out of it. "Fine," she gave Willow a bright smile and turned back to her food. She was all too conscious of Spike's leg as it brushed against hers when he repositioned himself.

"Good," Willow breathed a sigh of relief. "It was your turn, Spike."

Spike leaned back in his chair, draping one arm over the back of Elizabeth's chair - which she was fortunately nowhere near - and playing with an unlit cigarette in his other hand. "Name's Spike," he began, "in case you somehow managed to miss it... 'm from Cambridge, England and here, too. Faculty brat in case you couldn't guess...although not quite so bad 's Red here."

"Your parents aren't half the intellectual, socially-dysfunctional freaks mine are!" Willow cackled evilly.

Spike spared her an amused smile. "What else? Oh yeah, don' really have a major yet. Might end up with history just by default - tha's what my da does. 'm a sophomore. That it?"

"Just anything else you want to add," Willow shrugged.

Faith leaned forward on her elbows, exposing a good deal of cleavage for his perusal. "How about where you got that sexy scar?" she asked saucily.

Spike gave her an appraising look followed by a sensual smile. "Piercin's an' bar fights don't go well together, luv," he said, fingering his scarred brow lightly.

"And yet you still have them," Elizabeth commented on the silver ring in his ear.

"Like the dark beauty said," he gave her a hesitant little smirk, "sexy."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and turned back to her food.

"So, yeah, next?" Willow was determined not to let Elizabeth and Spike get into another fight...at least not today.

Oz nodded. "Oz. Everywhere. Philosophy. Junior. The lord of brevity."

Everyone laughed at that.

It took Devon a while to notice it was his turn, despite Oz's constant nudging. "Huh, what? Oh yeah, I'm Devon, and..." He trailed off before laughing. "I'm stoned out of my mind."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Oz, you do the honors."

Oz nodded. "This is Devon, my roommate. I'm his official spokesperson. He's from New York City, a junior, and...what is your major, anyway?"

Devon shrugged.

"So, uh...yeah..." Oz finished lamely.

Willow coughed something under her breath before smiling pleasantly once more. "Next?" she said, a hint of dread in her voice about what could possibly still go wrong...

Xander gave everybody a little finger wave. "Yeah, I'm Alexander Harris, but you can call me Xander. Or Xand, Xand-man... I'll pretty much respond to anything with an X in it. Just don't call me Professor X. That one's so nerdy it even scares me." He got a couple chuckles from Willow and Faith at this, and a little smile from Elizabeth. Encouraged, he continued with more confidence. "I'm from the little, tiny town called St. Simmons in Florida. It's officially the most boring place on earth - only ten blocks and twelve retirement homes." More laughs. "And the real scary thing is that my uncle Rory still searches through them for old rich widows."

"Him and my step-dad number two," Faith raised her glass in salute.

Xander gave her shy little smile before finishing. "And I'm another of those clueless freshmen with no majors. Think that's about it."

Willow breathed a sigh of relief when all possible chance of disaster had passed. She turned to the dishwater blond on her right. "Your turn."

The blond gave her an amused little smile. "You made me go at the end on purpose, didn't you?" she accused good-naturedly.

"Just saving the best for last," Willow said with a little grin.

On her other side Anya was making gagging noises. Spike was trying not-so-hard not to laugh. Willow cast them both annoyed glances.

"Hi," the dishwater blond finally spoke up, "my name is Tara McClay. I don't exactly live here, but I'm Willow's girlfriend so I'm around a lot. My room's over in Freedman Hall. Um...I'm a senior, and English major... I'm originally from this little hellhole town in Virginia, but I'll lie and say that I'm from here because it's so much nicer. That it, sweetie?"

"Yup," Willow gave her a shy little smile.

Anya promptly began making gagging noises again, and Xander accompanied her with little kissy faces.

Elizabeth couldn't fight back her amusement any longer and even spared Spike a small smile when he leaned forward to whisper in her ear again.

"Crazy bunch, 'ey Summers? An' this 's about a normal as it gets..."

She turned to face him and instantly discovered just how close they really were. She suddenly felt very hot and debated removing her sweater...until she decided that she absolutely did not want Spike to see her in nothing but a strappy little tank top. Hell, he'd probably think she'd done it just for him, as if she would ever be interested... It was just...really hot in here, was all. And she was done eating so it was OK to leave the table, and Spike had nothing whatsoever to do with her choice... Really.

She stood up abruptly, pushing him aside a bit rudely as she did so. "I have to go catch up with Kathy," she informed the table before practically running off.

Spike's eyes followed her back, and a scowl crossed his handsome features. "Bloody irritatin' chit," he grumbled under his breath as he turned back to the table.

Willow and Tara exchanged a knowing glance and a little giggle at his reaction.

* * *

"Ooh, ooh!" Kathy exclaimed. "You still have to meet Di!"

Elizabeth followed the perky brunette wearily. She'd felt inexplicably energized after dinner, but her energy dwindled rapidly every minute she spent with Kathy. She'd never realized just how much effort it took to keep up her popular facade.

"Now where did she go...?" Kathy looked around, puzzled.

"Don't worry about it," Elizabeth sighed. "I can meet her later..."

Kathy turned to her with a wide grin. "Isn't this just super cool? Sure is great to get away from all those losers we got stuck with!" Kathy shuddered. "Especially that freak with the white hair. I mean, what's his damage, anyway?"

"I think it's safe to say you irritated him," Elizabeth said with a tight-lipped smile. Something about Kathy insulting Spike just rubbed her the wrong way...well, more than Kathy usually rubbed her the wrong way, that is. At least when she had insulted Spike, she had done it to his face...

"Whatever," Kathy shrugged disinterestedly before squealing in delight. "Greg's here!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Is it OK if I, like, leave you alone and-"

"Go." Elizabeth couldn't stop the irritation from leaking into her tone.

"Thanks, Bitsy!" Kathy exclaimed, running off. "You're the best!"

"Thought she'd never leave," Elizabeth grumbled under her breath. She had just about decided that she was ready to leave when a hand tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hey, Elizabeth!" Riley said brightly. "Glad you could make it!"

Elizabeth forced a smile onto her face. "Yeah, well, a friend of mine was coming too, so..."

"A friend?" Riley's brow furrowed. "It's not one of Osborne's crowd, is it?"

"No, she pretty much hates Oz," Elizabeth sighed. "Kathy Ashton. You know her?"

"Kathy!" Riley' face instantly lit up. "She's neat, isn't she? A bit much to handle sometimes, though..."

Elizabeth laughed at that. "Oh yeah," she agreed. "Frequent breaks are necessary."

Riley smiled and nodded, and a brief awkward silence followed. "You want a drink?" he finally asked.

"No," Elizabeth had to consciously force back the fear in her voice. She followed it up by a nervous laugh. "I mean I'm...heh-heh...not thirsty and...yeah."

"Sure, whatever," Riley shrugged. "You, um, like basketball?"

Elizabeth gave him a half-hearted smile.

"'Cause I play center, you know," he informed her proudly. "Team captain, too. The Panthers. You should come watch us. We've got a chance at the championship this year." His arm slid casually onto the wall behind her as he said this.

"Really?" she tried to sound interested. "Back in high-school, I was a cheerleader. But our basketball team never really got anywhere..."

"You should join the squad here," Riley encouraged her. "You could cheer me on."

"Maybe," Elizabeth said with an encouraging little smile. "So, yeah..."

"Yeah..."

"You dance?" She felt obliged to at least make an effort.

"Not really. You, uh...wanna...?" he trailed off, baffled.

"Right," Elizabeth agreed.

Another awkward pause stretched out.

"Look," Elizabeth finally said, "I should probably get going. I'm more tired than I thought and...yeah."

"Leave?" Riley sounded forlorn. "But it's only eleven! The party's barely started!"

"Yeah, well, I have class tomorrow and...more class," Elizabeth began inching slowly towards the door. "I had a great time, though. Thanks!" And, with that, she was out the door.

"Who was that?" Graham asked Riley.

"The woman of my dreams," Riley said simply...

* * *

Elizabeth bit back a groan when she entered their makeshift lounge to find Spike sprawled all over the couch, watching television.

"Back so soon?" he quirked a scarred eyebrow in her direction. "Sucked more than the usual Delta Phi parties then..."

"It was fine," Elizabeth insisted, pausing in the doorway to her room. "I just didn't want to be tired for class tomorrow."

Spike rolled over onto his back to look up at her. "Don' fancy frat boys an' booze?" he teased.

Elizabeth let out a sigh of exasperation. "I bet you're the kind of guy that just keeps picking at scabs, aren't you? Sometimes it's just best to leave a wound be..."

"Gotten all metaphoric on me now, Summers," he said with a wry grin. "Better watch it or 'll start to think you're jus' another one 'f us nerds."

Elizabeth couldn't help but giggle at that. 'Nerd' was just about the last word she'd used to describe Spike. "Tell me," she said lightly, "are you always this irritating, or are you just trying to drive me crazy?"

"Actually," he said with a devil-may-care grin, "'m usually more irritatin'. You've got me on my best behavior."

Elizabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow. "This is your best? Then maybe we'd better work on teaching you to act civilly this semester..."

"You gonna tutor me, Summers?" he teased. "Knew you liked me..."

She snorted derisively and rolled her eyes. "You wish," she countered before entering her room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Great. How was she possibly supposed to sleep, knowing that idiot was in the next room? She crawled under the covers and let out an annoyed huff at the sounds of the television...which she could barely even hear, but still! Nevertheless, she shut her eyes, images of her day flooding through her mind. They seemed to linger on a certain peroxide blond and blue eyes that sparked with mirth and anger a bit longer than was absolutely necessary. And, surprisingly, she had no difficulty falling asleep at all, pleasant dreams that she wouldn't remember in the morning overtaking her subconscious...

Chapter 4:

Elizabeth groaned and swatted at her alarm clock for the second time that morning. She’d already found out the first disadvantage to dorm life earlier that day: roommates with seven o’clock classes.

Unfortunately, this time the alarm really was hers. After only minimal fumbling, she managed to get it turned off and slipped out of bed. Robe in place, she prepared for the great ten-foot journey to the bathroom, opened the door, and...was attacked.

A wall of steam blew past her, clearing out the bathroom and revealing... OK, how unfair was it that she had to deal with that first thing in the morning? Elizabeth felt her mouth go dry at the sight of Spike clad in nothing but a small, while towel, hot droplets of water from his shower still dripping down his bare, muscular back. She swallowed.

Spike heard her apparently and looked up from where he was brushing his teeth into the fogged mirror before him. He cursed through the toothpaste when he couldn’t see anything and turned around to see who was there.

"’Mornin’, Summers," he said a bit groggily.

Elizabeth snapped her jaw shut from where it had dropped to the floor and casually walked into the bathroom. "Morning." See? She could still play it cool even though Spike really obviously worked out. A lot. Damn, the man was all lean, sinewy muscle and... Annoying, she reminded herself.

"You got stuck with a nine o’clock class too, ‘ey?" he inferred, spitting out the toothpaste before gracing her with a wide yawn.

Ah good, he was still too tired to try to be seductive...and didn’t he have such nice, straight, white teeth? She inwardly slapped herself for sounding like a bad toothpaste commercial and set her own basket of bathroom paraphernalia on the shelf of the sink beside his. "Oh yeah," she agreed with a slight yawn of her own.

Spike wiped his mirror clean before lathering his face with shaving cream. "Whattaya got then?" he inquired.

"Art history." She shoved her own toothbrush into her mouth and began scrubbing. There, now nearly-naked Spike wasn’t as intimidating as she thought, was he? She ventured a look at his bare chest and...ooh! Were gorgeous abs like those even possible? OK, back to looking at the nice, safe mirror.

"Really?" Spike began to shave. "Who you got?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Don’t remember."

"Rudall?" he suggested. "Luce? Steinberg?"

Elizabeth nodded through her mouth full of toothpaste. "That’s it, Steinberg." She spit into the sink.

Spike shook his head. "Good luck," he said sarcastically before splashing water on his face.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth demanded warily.

"Steinberg’s a bloody sadist," Spike shrugged. "Likes to make students miserable."

"And where were you when I was registering?" Elizabeth sighed.

He gave her a sly smirk and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You wanna...tutor, all you’ve gotta do is ask, luv," he said suggestively. "Be happy to teach you a thing or two..." He looked her up and down in a way more...blatant and hungry than any she’d ever seen before.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and her body became painfully aware of the fact that it was less than a foot away from nearly-naked Spike. "Pig." She was proud of the fact that she managed to say the word with clear precision.

His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oink, oink," he agreed before grabbing his stuff and leaving the bathroom.

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. Spike was definitely too intense to deal with first thing in the morning. Unhindered by infuriating peroxide blonds, she quickly finished her morning rituals and headed back to her room...only to find that now-dressed infuriating peroxide blonds were just now leaving their room.

"Don’ wanna be late to Steinberg’s class," he advised her, slinging his book-bag over one leather-clad shoulder.

"Thanks for the tip," she said sarcastically. Mmm, his hair was still all curled and wild from his shower...

"Later, luv." He paused at the door to the stairwell to blow her a quick kiss before he was gone.

"Jerk," Elizabeth grumbled, heading back into her own room to get dressed...

****

"Daily attendance is mandatory," Professor Steinberg, a once-tall-now-bent-in-two stodgy old man, declared. He looked over the top of his reading glasses to make sure everyone was paying attention. "Every absence loses you a third of a grade, and from now on you all get to class five minutes early. I don’t want attendance to cut into my lecture time. In addition, you will attend the mandatory discussion sections that I assign. Any absence docks your grade." He turned back to the rather extensive list of rules he’d assigned for the day.

Elizabeth bit back a pang of real fear as she looked over the course guidelines. OK, so maybe Spike hadn’t been kidding in his assessment of Steinberg...

"You’ll notice that you have two projects in addition to the midterm and final. Any of these get turned in late, you get a zero. No exceptions. I don’t care if you’ve got bubonic plague. You can’t do the work; you don’t take the class. All tests will cover the material from lectures, the textbook, as well as the independent research I’ll expect you to do for this class." He gave the entire room a dark glare. "I expect most of you not to pass. And I’ve only given twenty A’s ever, in all my fifty years of teaching. If you aren’t ready to take a real class, I suggest you look into visual arts down the hall."

He leaned forward against the podium. "Now, we will begin with the Classical Period today. Chapters one through four on the Archaic Period we’ll skip, but will still be on the test. One word of advice - sketch the slides fast; you may not see some of them again until the final. Slide one-" He turned to the picture behind him.

And Elizabeth began scribbling notes furiously. OK, she’d heard college was hard, but she hadn’t expected this. At least a couple of the other freshmen seemed just as flustered as she was. Oh yeah, did school suck...

****

Elizabeth sat in her seat in American History slowly clenching and unclenching her hand. She was quite confident she’d already gotten carpal tunnel syndrome from writing down everything Steinberg had said. She was equally confident she’d already managed to do something to earn herself an F. Fortunately, she hadn’t been called on in class and thus hadn’t gotten one of the little red X’s The Professor From Hell put in his grade book every time a question was answered incorrectly. Dammit, two more classes to go today, and already she had a headache...

And it just got worse. With a flurry of black leather, Spike abruptly landed in the seat beside her.

"Din’t know you were interested in history, Summers," he said, in way too good a mood for her taste.

"I have to take a history course," she informed him. "Requirement."

"Ah," he said, dropping his bag between them and leaning over to brush right against her thigh as he dug around in it for a pencil. He gave her a little triumphant smile when he found one. "The joys of freshman year..." he began somewhat nostalgically.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"Steinberg that bad?" he inquired astutely.

"Why has no one murdered that man yet?" she demanded.

He chuckled slightly. "No one’s offered me the right price yet," he teased before leaning into her ear. "Although, for a pretty face...might be willin’ to cut you a deal..."

She blushed and swatted at him half-heartedly, which only made his smirk grow wider. He tried to catch her wrists, and she fended him off, unable to keep an amused little smile off her face at the sheer childishness of their behavior...

"Elizabeth," a voice suddenly broke the little bubble that had formed between them, "is this jerk bothering you?"

They both turned, and Spike let out a long-suffering sigh. "Finn," he hissed, his eyes cold.

"Giles." Riley didn’t look any more pleased to see him. "What are you even doing in this class?" he demanded. "Given you *ahem* unique opinions on this great country of ours," he gave Elizabeth a little smile, letting her know that she was included in the ‘ours’, "I’d’ve thought you’d avoid U.S. history like the plague."

"History ‘as nothin’ to do with patriotism, Finn," Spike informed him in a voice that made it all too clear that he thought the other man was an idiot.

Riley ignored his response and turned to Elizabeth. "You and Giles are friends?" he said, disbelieving.

"No!" Elizabeth panicked, suddenly realizing what a major blow it would be to her popularity if she got the rep for handing around with punks.

Spike shot her a slightly hurt look.

"No, I mean," she quickly amended, "we live in the same house is all."

Riley shoved his way past Spike and sat in the seat on the opposite side of her. "My condolences," he said, giving her a conspiratorial little smile.

She managed to force out a laugh. "Uh...yeah..." She could almost feel Spike’s eyes burning into the back of her neck, but when she chanced a look back at him, he seemed completely absorbed in the textbook in front of him.

"So," Riley slipped on hand onto the back of her chair and leaned forward slightly, "how’s your day been so far?"

She rolled her eyes. "Had the Asshole Prof From Hell already..."

"Oh yeah?" Riley inquired. "Who?"

"Steinberg for art history," she sighed. "I mean what kind of a pretentious, overbearing fogy only gives twenty A’s in fifty years?"

"Ah, the famous Steinberg speech," Riley said. "If you ever, uh, want any help, I’d be happy to oblige. Took his class last year, you know...when he’d only given out nineteen A’s..."

"Really?" Elizabeth’s smile widened.

"*Cough*liar*Cough*." Spike only half hid his accusation amidst his hacking.

"What was that?" Riley’s eyes narrowed.

"You aced Steinberg’s class?" Spike raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Whatsa matter, Giles?" Riley retorted. "Jealous?"

"Oh yeah, ‘cause Steinberg jus’ loved you," Spike retorted sarcastically.

"At least I didn’t get into a screaming match with him every class," Riley retorted. "Let me guess; he failed your ass."

"’Least I don’ take credit for things I ‘aven’t done," Spike shot back.

Riley leaned into Elizabeth a bit closer. "The problem with Giles here," he informed her with a grin, "is that he just can’t accept that he’s not destined for the greater things in life, not like us..." His hand rested possessively on her thigh.

She suddenly got the distinct impression that she was the trophy in some sort of testosterone-induced competition. At least Spike seemed not to be playing. He proceeded to ignore the two of them again, instead watching the professor that had just entered the room. Elizabeth brushed Riley’s hand aside and prepared to pay attention to class as well.

"I’m Professor Hall," the leggy brunette announced.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. That was a professor? She was actually pretty and youngish and stuff...

"The TA’s are passing around the assignment sheets now," Professor Hall continued. "Please, take one and pass them on. Hopefully, we’ll get through it fast, and you’ll all get out early."

Elizabeth accepted the stack of assignment sheets from Spike and passed them on to Riley.

"I’ll just take attendance. If you go by any name not listed here, just let me know," Professor Hall fumbled through several papers until she found the class list. "Dana Adams?"

Elizabeth read over the assignment sheet during the long wait until the S’s. Attendance, readings, class participation, two five-page papers, and a final - all in all, not so bad. She breathed a little sigh of relief; she’d been half-convinced that every class would have as much work as Steinberg’s...

"Here."

Elizabeth started slightly when Riley spoke up right beside her.

Professor Hall checked off his name. Her brow furrowed slightly then. "William Giles?" she asked, looking around the room.

"Oi." Spike raised his hand.

Professor Hall gave him a small smile. "Barely even recognized you," she commented. "You go by something different now...?" Her brow furrowed again.

"Spike," he provided.

"That’s it," she agreed. "Knew it was something unusual..." She jotted down a note. "Sean Gregg?"

"You know her?" Elizabeth whispered to Spike in surprise.

"She an’ my da are good friends," he shrugged. "Met ‘er at a few conferences when I was little."

"Teacher’s pet," Riley accused juvenilely.

Spike didn’t even dignify that with a response.

"Elizabeth Summers?" Professor Hall called out.

"Here," Elizabeth raised her hand.

"Just Elizabeth?"

She nodded, and the three of them sat silently throughout the rest of the roll call.

"This class is really simple," Professor Hall finally began. "You do the reading and pay attention to the lectures, you’ll be fine. You don’t, and you’ll be in trouble for the final. Now, I bet most of you are noticing that there’s no midterm and cheering. And, yes, that’s right, the only test you’ll have to take is the final. The two papers, however, will cover the themes we’ll be discussing, so you’ll get some feedback as to how well you’re understanding the material. Give me a good effort, and you’ll pass just fine. Now, that’s all I’ve got for today. Read chapter one of Wilcox for Wednesday and enjoy getting out of class forty-five minutes early." She picked up her bag to go.

"Out early?" Elizabeth said with a little smile. "How cool is that?"

"Barb’s nice like that," Spike grinned back at her. "Bloody brilliant, too. You’ll love ‘er lectures..." He finished packing up his book-bag. "You headed for lunch?" he asked almost shyly.

"I’ve got another class after this," she said apologetically. "Don’t wanna have to rush all the way to Westing and back."

"You should come to the coffee shop with me then," Riley insisted brightly. "You can tell me all about your day, get a nice break..."

"Sure, that’d be great," she agreed. She did frown slightly when Riley practically shoved Spike aside to parade her past. The trophy analogy was in full force again.

What she didn’t see was the hurt little expression on Spike’s face before his eyes narrowed in rage...

****

"That stupid, nancy boy, wanker...ARGH!" Spike exclaimed, slamming his fist into the table and setting all the silverware rattling.

Willow calmly stilled her spoon’s violent rocking. "Let me guess," she said with a small, knowing smile, "Riley Finn?"

"’Course ‘s bleedin’ Finn," Spike grumbled under his breath, slumping in his chair.

"That nasty guy that was insulting Oz?" Xander asked curiously.

"Sounds like ‘im," Spike sulked.

Faith’s interest was definitely piqued. Testosterone was in the air; she could just smell it. And given the attractiveness of the two males at the table, it was definitely something worth encouraging... "What’ve you got against that studmuffin?" she asked curiously, taking a bite out of her apple.

Spike gave her an annoyed look. "Watch it, girlie," he said in a falsely saccharine tone. "’E’d take you for a ride an’ then toss you aside."

"Isn’t that the best kind?" Faith said saucily.

"Not ‘f he dumps you just ‘cause you’re not ‘good enough’ for ‘im," Spike retorted. "You’re either a snooty rich bitch potential wife or street trash with that one. Without the dollar signs by your name, ‘e would barely even see you as ‘uman."

"Nice guy," Xander commented sarcastically.

Spike rolled his eyes. "You don’ even know the half ‘f it..." he complained.

"He had sex with Spike’s girlfriend," Anya spoke up for the first time, "just to make him angry."

Spike gave her an outraged look. "Thanks for tellin’ everyone, Anyanka!" he exclaimed. "Wanna yell that a bit louder? ‘Bout two people ‘aven’t heard yet!"

Anya gave him an apologetic smile. "Drusilla was a slut, though, so it doesn’t lessen Spike’s manliness in the slightest. In fact, he has a rather large-"

"Anyanka!" Spike exclaimed, his face flaming a deep red.

"Keep calling me ‘Anyanka’, and I’ll finish that sentence," she threatened with a wicked little smile, "and explain in detail how I got that information."

"This ‘s blackmail," he grumbled under his breath.

"A rather large-" Anya continued.

"Anya!" Spike spit out. "There! Happy?"

"Very much so," she said with a delighted little grin.

Xander and Faith’s jaws had dropped to the floor in disbelief in the meantime, and Willow was desperately trying to focus on her sandwich.

"So, um, yeah," Xander finally dare to speak, "moving past the Anya/Spike sex..."

"Oh, we didn’t have sex," Anya provided helpfully. "We were nowhere near drunk enough for that. See, I just bet-"

"Anya!" Spike cut her off, mortified.

Anya sulked and mumbled to herself.

Faith leaned towards her. "So, when you say ‘rather large’, how does that translate into inches?" she couldn’t help tease.

"Welcome to find out, luv," Spike purred, back to his usual self - battling with Anya generally did that, "’f you think you can take it, that is."

"Oh, I could take you for the ride of your life," Faith assured him through long lashes.

"Down, girl," Willow teased. "A little sympathy for everyone else at the table that likes women."

Even Faith blushed a bit at Willow’s implication, and the conversation died down to normal levels.

"So," Willow demanded of Spike, "what did Riley do now...?"

* * *

"I mean, I’m sure he’s got his uses," Riley said, sounding only half-convinced, "but does he honestly think someone like you would so much as give him the time of day?"

"I don’t wear a watch," Elizabeth pointed out. OK, this was starting to get boring. So far Riley had only wanted to talk about two things: his heroism on the basketball court, and how Spike was inferior in every way. Frankly, Elizabeth preferred the basketball stories.

Riley gave her a sheepish smile. "Sorry," he apologized, "I don’t mean to go off on the Giles thing, but seeing him going after you..." He shuddered. "He’s so creepy. If I were you, I wouldn’t encourage him. Trust me, you don’t want him for a stalker, although you wouldn’t be the first..."

She gave him a confused look and downed the last of her coffee.

"Oh yeah," he informed her conspiratorially, leaning in close. "There was this one girl - Dru - that he was into or something. Well, naturally, she doesn’t want anything to do with him ‘cause, frankly, who would? So she and I are just hanging out, and he goes ballistic on me. I took care of him, though," he informed her with a little wink. "You ever have any problems with him," his hand slipped out to cover hers, "you just get me, and I’ll take care of it for you."

Elizabeth jerked her own hand back before he could touch it. "Th-Thanks," she managed to get out before standing up. "It’s been nice, really, but I’ve got the get to class."

"I’ll see you ‘round then," Riley said with a wide grin.

"Sure," she agreed, plastering a smile onto her face before she turned and left.

Oh yeah, Riley thought, watching her ass as she went, she’s definitely the one for me. Sweet, pretty, innocent, from a good family - perfect...

****

Elizabeth cast and annoyed eye roll at Spike’s room as loud screaming that she supposed he called ‘music’ shook the entire hallway even through his closed door. She shut the door to her own room with a sigh of relief.

Willow gave her a sympathetic smile from where she was lying on her bed, reading. "Yes, he does listen to that stuff all the time," she sighed.

"No wonder he yells so much," Elizabeth teased, "he’s probably deaf from that bass."

"I know I am," Willow giggled slightly.

Elizabeth let out a weary sigh and collapsed on her bed. "Go ahead," she joked, her head still buried in her pillow, "ask me how my day went..."

"That bad, huh?" Willow shut her textbook with a snap.

"I have over three hundred pages to read by Wednesday," Elizabeth began, "a professor who was a slave driver in a past life...or maybe this one - he is pretty old, and another class tomorrow..." She groaned.

"Don’t forget ‘it’s only the first day’," Willow teased.

Elizabeth lifted her head up just enough to narrow one eye at Willow before collapsing again. "Please, tell me it doesn’t always suck this much..."

"It pretty much does," Willow said apologetically, "but you get used to it." She gave Elizabeth a perky smile.

"I don’t believe you," Elizabeth insisted. "There is no way I could get used to this. No way, no how..."

Chapter 5:

"Pre-lab, short answers, and…worksheet," Elizabeth muttered to herself as she placed her assignments in the three colored bins on Professor Scott’s desk.

Next to her, Xander was wheedling an extension on the short answers from the short, balding professor.

Faith hadn’t even bothered to show up for the massive Everything’s Due Day.

Elizabeth waited patiently in the hallway, and a few seconds later Xander joined her. "Extension acquired?" she asked with a small smile.

"Till Monday," he sighed. "There goes my weekend."

"Hmm," she nodded, fighting to suppress her smile.

He quirked a half-smile in her direction in response. "Go ahead," he teased, "gloat."

"No homework at all this weekend!" Elizabeth exclaimed excitedly. "Nothing but relaxing and partying and sleeping…"

"I said you could gloat, not rub it in," Xander said, mock-offended.

Elizabeth gave him a playful bat on the shoulder. "If you did your work on time, you wouldn’t have this problem," she informed him.

"I was doing work!" Xander insisted. "I stayed up all last night on the pre-lab, and the night before that it was the math problem set, and before that my history reading… How on earth did you find time to write the short essays?" he demanded.

"It’s pretty much all just reading," she shrugged. "I just sit down and do it. You should study with Will and Tara and me. It’s really quiet, and you actually get stuff done."

"Except for the whole being surrounded by three beautiful women, two of which could start making out with each other any minute…" Xander joked. "Yeah, perfect distraction-free environment."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at him and stepped out into the bright Friday afternoon. "So, what’re you doing this evening?" she asked.

Xander let out a weary sigh. "Studying," he admitted ruefully. "You?"

"Well, this afternoon I get to hit things, and then there’s another Delphi Phi party tonight, and rush, rush, rush on Saturday…" Elizabeth began.

"Hold on a second," Xander waved his hands in the air in a confused manner. "Hit things?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Karate," she informed him. "Or, actually, Tae Kwon-Do. Even though the school doesn’t technically offer it, I’ve been informed that we have a small team."

"You do Karate?" Xander looked suddenly nervously.

She shrugged. "To a lesser degree," she agreed.

"How good are you?" he gulped.

"Black belt." There just was no way to make those words sound modest. "Took the high school state tournaments a couple of times…although that was in Tae Kwon-Do."

"So, you could, like, totally kick my ass right now?" Xander demanded clarification.

"Yup," she agreed with a small smile.

"Why do I feel like I should be handing you my lunch money right about now?" he joked.

Elizabeth laughed and opened the back door to Westing Hall. "That would be immoral…and strictly prohibited by all martial arts’ philosophies."

"Whew." Xander breathed a mock sigh of relief. "You coming to lunch?" he asked, gesturing over to the crowded dinning hall.

Elizabeth grimaced at the size of the line. "Don’t think I’m brave enough to face that mob," she joked. "I’ll just make a sandwich or something."

"Ah, culinary skills," Xander said in a mock-sage voice, "a vital tool for the college student."

Elizabeth laughed at the reference to Xander’s mega-disaster in the kitchen on Wednesday. The microwave had been thoroughly traumatized, and she didn’t think she’d even be able to see a potato again without cracking up. "I’m sure you could manage a sandwich," she reassured him.

"You’d think so, wouldn’t you?" he teased before giving her a quick wave and vanishing into the crowd.

Elizabeth practically skipped up the stairs, so happy at her first weekend that not even Spike’s blaring music could sour her mood…

****

OK, so she was slightly more sour by the time she finally arrived at the ‘dojo’ - i.e. the rec room of the Stanton Gymnasium.

First off, Kathy had dropped by, reminding her that she should visit Tri Xi with her later this evening if she wanted to get an extra in at the sorority. That meant she had to spend an entire evening with Kathy. Which was scary enough in and of itself.

Second, her father had e-mailed her with a list of ‘social contacts’ she should make while at college. They consisted of various friends of Kathy’s, most of which Elizabeth had already met and immediately disliked. Her father had also offered several times to do family background checks on any ‘potential suitors’ she might run across. Elizabeth so didn’t need her father running her love life from afar…

Third (and what list would be complete without Spike somewhere on it), the irritating peroxide blond had plopped down beside her on the couch in the lounge for about an hour, making sarcastic remarks about the rerun of 90210 she’d been watching and sending not-so-subtle innuendoes at her so rapidly that she was sure her face was a permanent shade of red.

The instant her show had ended and she’d gotten up to leave, he’d immediately switched over to ‘Passions’, which really wasn’t any better in Elizabeth’s opinion. However, after she’d pointed this out, he’d gotten this smug little leer on his face and informed her that she was welcome to help him find something better to do with his free time. One glance at where his thumb had hooked into the waist of his tight jeans, and she’d fled like mad into the safety of her room.

And the worst thing was that she couldn’t even go out to take a cold shower without him knowing about it.

And, finally, she’d gotten all her gear together and was ready to head for practice. Faith had expressed some interest in checking out martial arts, so Elizabeth had banged on her door…only to hear loud grunts and groans inside. Specifically Faith’s and a guy’s. Elizabeth so didn’t need to hear that right now.

Needless to say, it’d been a frustrating afternoon. She was thoroughly anticipating kicking something’s ass. Too bad the ass she was kicking wouldn’t be Spike’s…

Having quickly changed into her uniform in the women’s locker-room, she entered the makeshift ‘dojo’ and bowed gracefully before taking her place at the end of the line of students. Most were dressed just in sweats, indicating that this was their first time here.

A couple quiet conversations started around her about what this class would be like, and several people even asked her about the sensei and such before she informed them that she was a freshman too and didn’t have the slightest clue. Well, maybe a teensy bit more than the slightest clue, but still…

She was still surprised when their coach entered and turned out to be very British. She’d kind of gathered that from his name and all, but it still seemed unusual to her.

"Greetings, class," the young man glanced at them through wire-rimmed glasses, pausing when he noticed Elizabeth’s belt for a brief second. "You are all here for karate, I take it?" he joked lightly. "Good. First thing’s first, we are not here to learn how to beat people up or do our own Matrix-style special effects. Anyone who’s here for that purpose should leave now. Anyone?"

A couple of the girls giggled. Probably because he was pretty cute…not to mention he had a sexy accent.

"Well, then," he said with his first smile, "my name’s Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, but I don’t expect you to call me by that monstrosity…"

More giggles.

"Now, you may have heard that all the martial arts deal strongly in philosophy and discipline, and this class will as well. However, I see no point in forcing unnatural formality onto you all. So, please, just call me Wesley. Likewise, if you have any questions, please feel free and comfortable to ask them. This is a class, after all - a self-defense one, but a class nonetheless - and I find that students tend to learn best in a more casual environment. However, let’s not go overboard. There are a few basic rules to be observed…"

Elizabeth tuned out as he went through the basics of dojo etiquette. She was too busy debating whether or not she liked Wesley’s style. Her old sensei back at home had been ultra-conservative style. Her first thought upon seeing Wesley’s teaching technique was that he was sloppy, but she had been assured that he was one of the best coaches in New England…

"Now, we’re going to start off with some simple stretches," Wesley finally began the class. "Since our captain seems to be - surprise, surprise - late, Kendra, will you lead the class?"

A stocky girl of exotic African features stepped to the mat across from them, and soon everyone was following her in the standard series of stretches.

Elizabeth easily managed all of the exercises and took her free time to observe the class itself. Well over half the people there were obviously freshmen trying karate out for the first time. Another quarter perhaps were recent students to the sport. There were nearly a dozen or so like Kendra, however, who sported various colored belts and obviously had some skill. She had been informed that there would be other students of her level in the class.

Stretching was followed by a bit of aerobic exercise, followed by the standard instruction on posture, position, footwork…

Wesley came over to talk to her during this portion of the class. "You’re Elizabeth?" he asked, extending his hand. "The one who e-mailed me?"

She shook it. "That’s me," she agreed.

"Very good," Wesley agreed with a small smile. "Your previous instructor gave you a rather glowing recommendation."

"Sensei Hwang?" Elizabeth said in slight disbelief. "Really?"

Wesley laughed. "Not very good at expressing those sorts of things, is he?" he agreed. "If it would be at all possible for you to stay a bit after practice so that I can more accurately assess your skill level…?"

That would mean she’d be late in meeting Kathy. "Sounds great," Elizabeth said enthusiastically.

"Wonderful," Wesley clapped his hands together. "I’m afraid everything today will be a bit below your level. And I believe that you focus on Tae Kwon-Do?"

She nodded.

"I’ve got several advanced students in the same predicament - small school means I have to just choose karate as the basic program, but I’m sure we’ll all work it out," he informed her. "Today if you’d just care to help with the instruction of the new students…"

"I’d love to," Elizabeth agreed with a smile.

"Great," Wesley said enthusiastically. "Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope you enjoy our club."

"Thanks a lot," Elizabeth agreed.

"And, ah!" Wesley commented, looking over Elizabeth’s shoulder at the door. "You’ll want to meet our team captain, and here he is, half an hour late as usual…"

Elizabeth had the premonition even before she turned. It was kind of this strange tickling sensation at the base of her spine. She looked and groaned when she realized she had been correct.

"Spike, this is Elizabeth. She’s a quite accomplished fighter from California," Wesley needlessly introduced them. "Elizabeth, this is-"

"I know who he is," she sighed before addressing Spike. "Might’ve known this would be your sort of thing." Ooh, black belt, too, she couldn’t help but notice. Maybe I WILL get to kick Spike’s ass…and a very nice ass it is. Not to mention that gorgeous expanse of chest peeking out of his uniform and- She inwardly cringed. Bad mind! Bad!

"Yeah, well, need to get out all that aggression and…" he gave her an appraising look that made her feel like he was reading her mind, "frustration somehow."

"Yeah," she nodded with a falsely sweet smile, "I can see how you’d be frustrated a lot."

Wesley seemed quite thoroughly oblivious to the sparks that were flying between his two students. "You know each other already? Good. Spike can tell you anything else you need to know then. If the two of you will excuse me now, I’ve got a class to teach…" He left the two of them to their own devices.

"So, Summers, how’d you come into the world of martial arts?" Spike asked cheekily. "You seem more like the cheerleadin’ ice princess type…"

"I was a cheerleader," she informed him primly. "And a figure skater. Dad let me take one additional activity, and this was what I chose."

"Oh, Daddy let you," Spike said sarcastically. "’S nice to know he’s so lenient."

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed just as Wesley’s voice caught both of their attentions.

"Our captain has finally decided to grace us with his presence," Wesley announced, gesturing to Spike. "This is Spike. He’ll lead the general exercises…when he bothers to show up on time."

Spike gave him a sheepish shrug in response.

"I’ll be in the office for the rest of this class then," Wesley informed them. "I’ll be back next week when we’ll do our first real exercises." He cleared the instruction mat for Spike.

"’Ey, all," Spike leapt right into his leadership role and threw Elizabeth a cocky smile as he did so, "right now, we’re just gonna keep it really simple. You all ‘ve already learned a simple punch an’ block, right?"

Kendra gave him an affirmative nod.

"Right then, here’s what we’re gonna do. Can I have a volunteer from the audience? One ‘f you new students?"

Several hands shot up. Elizabeth was half-convinced Spike was going to pick her, just to annoy her, but instead he picked an attractive young brunette who blushed horribly when he took her hand and led her over to the front mat.

"What’s your name, luv?" he asked, charm out in full force.

"Julia," she said with a shy little smile.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. OK, so Spike was physically attractive. She could admit that. At least in an abstract sense. After all, she’d have to be pretty much blind not to see it. But after that his appeal died a horrible, brutal death. He was just so aggravating and argumentative and impolite and a shameless flirter and… And why on earth were all these girls giggling at his jokes and batting their eyelashes at him and…!

Elizabeth let out a deep breath to calm herself. She quickly found that she could take some consolation in the fact that she could kick any of their asses.

"Now, Julia," Spike said with that gorgeous little smile of his, "you’re gonna aim a punch at me real slow, an’ ‘m gonna block it. So, first, jus’ make a fist…tha’s right…"

He checked her hand position and her arm set-up where she had the fist coiled up against her body, leaning in way too close for his inspection…at least in Elizabeth’s opinion.

"Good," he instructed the young brunette. "Now, punch forward slowly, jus’ straight out at first…"

She uncoiled her arm and struck onto into the empty air.

"Perfect," he said with a wide grin, moving across from her. "Now, you’re jus’ gonna do it while ‘m here, an’ ‘ll block it real gentle-like. So, we bow first…" Julia followed his lead. "…And now hit me."

Elizabeth examined his technique desperately for flaws and let out a little sigh of disappointment when she saw none.

"See that?" Spike addressed the class as a whole. "Din’t attack ‘er or anythin’. Jus’ redirected the force ‘f her blow so that it went off to the side. Now, all you new folks pair up with anyone in uniform, an’ they’ll take you through it nice an’ easy…"

Elizabeth found herself paired up with a skinny guy with glasses. She let him practice hitting her a few times so that he could watch how she blocked. Satisfied that he’d gotten the arm motion down correctly, she let him deflect her own blows a couple dozen times, correcting his form occasionally.

"We doin’ all right here?" Spike had snuck up behind her and whispered into her ear.

"Great," she said through tight lips. She could actually feel his breath on the back of her neck…

Her sparring partner nodded as well.

"Good job, luv," Spike gave her a little smile before going to check on the next pair.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and turned back to the drills. The entire class proceeded like that, sequentially going through the first few basic kicks as well as several other blocks. It wasn’t half the workout she was used to, but it seemed to fit the stamina of the beginners well. By the time Spike finally let them out - half an hour early - most were looking pretty exhausted.

Elizabeth herself followed Spike and Kendra back into Wesley’s office where they found him grading papers, of all things.

"I’m actually an English professor," he explained off of Elizabeth’s look, "but I volunteered for this as well, since I was qualified."

She nodded in understanding, and the four of them headed back out to the mats. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Just do a quick, light spar with Kendra here," Wesley instructed, "your standard warm-up and all…"

Elizabeth and Kendra exchanged a quick bow before engaging in a quick series of kicks and blocks.

"Not half bad," Spike commented under his breath to Wesley.

"Pretty damn good," Wesley agreed, watching Kendra fall to the mat as Elizabeth scored. "See that?" he couldn’t help but ridicule his best student. "That’s known as ‘patience’. Perhaps you’d do better if you learned some…"

Spike chuckled at that and watched Kendra fall for a second time. Elizabeth held back her blow and waited for her opponent to rise.

"That’s good enough," Wesley clapped his hands to stop their bout.

Elizabeth and Kendra exchanged a quick final bow. "You’re very good," Kendra said with a thick accent and a shy little smile.

"You, too," Elizabeth returned her smile.

"Elizabeth, why don’t you try a quick bout with Spike," Wesley instructed. "Kendra, you can go home now…"

Elizabeth gulped inwardly when Spike stepped onto the mat across from her. She never exactly sparred with someone who affected her the way he did, and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

"Lookin’ forward to our rough an’ tumble," Spike couldn’t help but tease. It was just the way she looked in her uniform, all tiny and fierce and powerful…not to mention completely beautiful. He bit back the strange emotions that stirred within him every time she was around and focused on the matter at hand.

They exchanged a brief courteous bow and then…

Well, all hell broke loose.

Elizabeth came at him right away with a fast flurry of kicks and punches, all of which he blocked flawlessly. She leapt high when his leg swung out to try to sweep her from beneath her and turned the move into a high kick to fend him off until she could regain her footing.

He was definitely on the attack by the time she did so, raining an intricate combination of kicks and feints that had her gasping for breath to keep up. Finally, he managed to catch her off-balance on one of her blows and used the opportunity to send her rolling onto the mat.

She took a deep breath to quell her anger and quickly rose to her feet again, bowing slightly to acknowledge the point…but not the match.

She expanded her moves, using more innovative back kicks and flips this time, judging that he’d be able to handle her at her infuriated best.

He faltered a bit at her infamous spinning kick back-flip combo, and she caught his ankle, sending him to the mat.

It was Spike’s turn to recover himself then. He gave her an impressed little smile when he stood up and bowed once more.

What followed was an alternating series of blows and blocks so blindingly fast that even Wesley had difficulty keeping up with it. Both opponents were giving this one their all, playing with speed, rhythm, form, pattern. A small smile crossed the young instructor’s face at how they were absolutely going to mop up Regionals with Elizabeth as the latest addition to their team…

Tired, sweating, and panting, Elizabeth and Spike both found their openings at exactly the same time. They each froze, their hands only millimeters from the other’s throat, and their eyes widened when they realized that they’d each completed their attack perfectly in sync.

They exchanged a quizzical look, each asking if the other knew who had beat who to the punch.

"So, who’s ‘s that then?" Spike finally felt obliged to ask Wesley after a moment’s pause.

"I would give it to her," Wesley said with a teasing smile, "since someone dropped their elbow prior to the recoil… Although I suppose it could be judged either way."

Spike conceded the hit anyway, looking up at her through long lashes during his bow. Elizabeth felt her face reddening yet again. Dammit, how did he do that? She hadn’t blushed this much since junior high…

"Well, on that exciting note, I’ll think we’ll call it a night," Wesley announced, "and congratulations on a match very well fought. You two shall have to spar together more next time. You’re a quite an excellent match for each other."

"Was jus’ thinkin’ the same thing," Spike flashed a lascivious smile in Elizabeth’s direction, letting her know that he wasn’t just talking about their fighting prowess.

"Well, next week then," Wesley shook Elizabeth’s hand once again. "We shall greatly enjoy having you on the team, won’t we, Spike?"

"Oh yeah," Spike agreed, his tongue curling up beneath his teeth.

Elizabeth blushed again. Before inwardly swatting herself for blushing so much. I mean, what was she, some love-struck schoolgirl? Certainly not for Spike. No way, no how…

****

Elizabeth stepped from the gym into the warm night air and wasn’t at all surprised to see that Spike had waited for her there. He quickly put out his cigarette, giving her an almost shy grin as she approached him.

"How many times a day does someone tell you that those things will kill you?" she asked wryly.

"Far too often," he smiled slightly.

Elizabeth bit her lip. Usually she found smoking repulsive, but the way Spike had been doing it, all casual sex and black leather…

"You heading back to Westing?" he asked.

"What," she couldn’t help but tease, "you need a big, strong woman to walk you home at night and keep you safe?"

"’Ey!" he exclaimed, offended. "’ll have you know that I plan on winnin’ back my manly honor next week!"

She gave him an amused little smile. "Not a chance," she informed him. "Your manhood is mine." She realized a second too late just how that sounded and groaned just as the wicked smile curled across his lips.

"’f you want it so badly…" he needled her.

"Fine, fine," she sighed, "you got me on that one."

"So, Summers," he said, still gloating in his slight victory, "how long you been doin’ Tae Kwon-Do?"

"Since I was seven," she admitted. "You?"

"Nine."

"Ah," she nodded. "You’ve got a rather…mixed style."

"An’ you don’t?" he retorted. "I saw that li’l judo block…"

"And you were half doing Aikido," she retorted. "What else’ve you done? Karate? Looked like a bit of Kung Fu, too…"

He nodded. "You?"

"Karate, tai chi, a lot of judo, a bit of kickboxing, too," she admitted.

"Hmm, quite the little killin’ machine, aren’t you, luv?" he joked.

"Remember that next time you annoy me," she retorted.

He chuckled slightly at that. "You should help with the lesson plan," he suggested. "We tend to dabble a bit in other arts jus’ for the hell of it."

"Sounds fun," she agreed. "I’m always willing to expand my horizons."

"In fact," he instinctively went for the innuendo just like he always did when she was present, "’d love to try a little Brazilian jiu-jitsu with you…"

She gulped. The art was actually very sophisticated, but to the common eye, it didn’t look like much more than mud wrestling without the mud.

"All close an’ intimate," he practically purred. "’d just love to get down on the mat with you an’ see what we can do…" They had stopped, having reached their destination, and his lips were only a hairsbreadth from her ear as he said these last words.

She felt her entire body burn at his nearness and suddenly had the nearly overwhelming urge to just say yes. Sanity quickly reasserted itself, however, and she took a step back, opening the door to Westing Hall and stepping inside.

"Don’t you ever give up?" she demanded of him as he followed her up the spiral staircase that led to their house.

"Never with you," he promised her with a little wink. "Speakin’ of which… Oz’s band’s playin’ down at the Blue Club tonight. Most ‘f the house is goin’. Care to join us?"

She gave him an apologetic smile. "Delta Phi party tonight," she told him. "I’m already late. I was supposed to help with the set-up and all…"

"Next time?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," she agreed with a small smile.

"You know ‘m just gonna keep askin’ till you say yes," were his parting words before he vanished into his room.

And Elizabeth let out a deep, longing sigh before turning back to the important task of getting in good with the girls at Tri Xi…

Chapter 6:

Freshly showered and dressed in her latest pale blue dress, Elizabeth left her room ready to party. Thankfully, Spike’s room was silent as she passed, her heels clicking on the tile floor of the hallway. In fact, she was so absorbed in trying to detect some sign of the infuriating peroxide blond that she literally crashed into Devon just as he was leaving Faith’s room.

There was an extremely embarrassing moment where Elizabeth scrambled for her purse, desperately trying not to notice that Devon was carrying both his shoes and his belt. His shirt was buttoned up all crookedly, and that, combined with the noises she’d heard earlier that evening, made it all too clear exactly what he’d been doing in Faith’s room.

She managed to sputter "have a nice evening" or something equally lame before practically dashing over to the Delta Phi house, her cheeks still burning a deep crimson. Not that she had anything against Devon and Faith, mind you; she just wasn’t exactly used to, er…that.

The frat house was already fairly crowded by the time she arrived, and she wound her way through the throng of people, occasionally stopping to hop up and down a few times to try to spot someone she knew over the heads of all the partygoers.

In her vertically challenged state she could only pick out the tallest of the tall, but luckily Riley was one of those. He spotted her as well and flashed her a wide grin before they both shoved their way politely through the crowd to try to reach each other.

"Some party, huh?" Riley practically shouted over the noise. "Didn’t think it’d be this crowded."

"There’s a lot of people rushing this year," Elizabeth yelled right back. "It’ll make my competition extra tough…"

"I’m sure you’ll get in," he said with a little smile. "Pretty girl like you, all the right contacts…"

She raised a curious and somewhat wary eyebrow at that.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were Hank Summers’ daughter?" he asked, leading her into one of the only half-crowded and significantly more quiet side rooms.

Elizabeth blinked. "You know my father?" she asked, somewhat incredulously.

"His firm takes care of most of my dad’s overseas stuff," Riley explained, sitting down.

"Really," Elizabeth said with some surprise, "funny I didn’t… Ah!" she said with sudden realization. "I haven’t gotten the names of all his contacts here yet."

"That would explain it," Riley agreed. "I was surprised you didn’t recognize me when we first met."

She gave him a little laugh. "Oops," she agreed. "Guess it was that whole not ever having seen you before thing."

He laughed at that as well. "So I hear you’re going into business, too." He gestured to the seat on the sofa beside him, and she sat down, keeping her hands locked firmly in her lap as she did so. Riley left his arm around the back of the seat behind her, however.

"That’s the plan," she agreed with a bright smile. "Get all my core requirements out of the way first, get my degree, and then…"

"Money, money, money," Riley laughed.

"Yeah," she said with a tightlipped smile. "Yay, money. Just like dad."

Riley managed to roll his eyes slightly at that. "That’s nothing," he said lightly. "You should see my dad. He’s all freaked that I’m getting a non-military degree. I’m in the Reserve Guard, so I have the back-up training for when I finally enter the service, but… Whew! Honestly didn’t think he’d be this soft on me."

"He’s, uh, some kind of general, right?" Elizabeth desperately tried to find the topic interesting. After all, he was quite possibly the least offensive guy of ‘her class’ that she’d ever met. And if her father was serious about her hooking up with the right connections at college…well, she could do a lot worse than Riley Finn…

"Vietnam," Riley agreed, a light flashing in his eyes that indicated that this was one of his favorite topics. "Volunteered as soon as war was declared. Took down fifteen hostile aircraft, won thirty-five firefights. He’s got this one story…"

Elizabeth tried to force back a yawn. Yes, he really did know the entire story behind every single one of those attacks, all jazzed up into a heroic war story in that way that only ultra-militaristic families believed. Right around American Motivational Speech number five, she realized that she desperately needed to change the topic or she’d die of boredom.

"So, why didn’t you go to West Point?" she asked curiously.

"Well, you see," he began, gesturing with his hands before he trailed off. "Do you want something to drink?" he abruptly asked. "God, I can’t believe I haven’t asked you that yet!" A little nervous laugh. "I’m a terrible host…"

Elizabeth nodded slightly. "Whattaya got?" she asked.

"Many delightful beers, Jell-O shots if you like those…"

She gulped and tried to force herself not to feel embarrassed about asking this next question. "Got anything non-alcoholic?" she asked with a sweet smile.

Riley gave her a disbelieving look before slowly nodding. "Yeah, there’s some juice and stuff back in the kitchen…" he began hesitantly.

"That’d be really great," she said with a broad smile. She breathed a sigh of relief when he’d gone. Her little policy against alcohol tended to put most guys completely off, and she didn’t want everyone to think that she was a prude; there’d be no way she could get into Tri Xi then…

"Bitsy!" Kathy exclaimed in delight from behind her.

Elizabeth immediately plastered the false smile back on her face. "Kathy!" she said with false enthusiasm. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" she tried to make the request as pleasant as possible, but a bit of venom hissed between her teeth anyway.

Fortunately, Kathy didn’t even notice. She merely laughed it off like it was some private joke between them. "So, having fun yet?" she asked, taking a swig of her beer.

"Lots of fun," Elizabeth agreed with a bright smile. "Riley just went to get us some drinks."

Kathy giggled. "Riley’s a major hottie, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Elizabeth said with a slight laugh. She wasn’t so sure about the ‘hot’. Maybe ‘cute’…yeah, ‘cute’ kind of implied something you’d pause to go "awww" at, but nothing that set your blood ablaze like clever, sharp, insightful, passionate blue eyes and… She shook her head to clear out the train of thought.

"Hey, Kathy," Riley took that moment to return, settling himself back down on the couch beside Elizabeth.

"Hi!" Kathy practically bounced on her feet. "You doing the Jell-O shots contest later?" she asked Elizabeth. "Gets you major rush points."

Elizabeth grimaced. "I’m saving up for tomorrow," she hedged.

"Cool," Kathy agreed, still bubbling with boundless energy. She spotted someone off at the far side of the room and waved excitedly. "I’ll leave you two lovebirds," she said with a little wink before rushing off again.

Elizabeth managed a wry laugh and tried not to die from embarrassment. Lovebirds?! She seethed internally.

"She’s fitting in just perfectly," Riley commented, drinking from his own beer can.

Elizabeth cautiously sniffed at her juice before taking one small sip just to be polite; after all, she had made him go all the way back to the kitchen to get it… "Yeah," she agreed simply.

"Elizabeth," Riley began slowly, "you don’t drink, do you?"

She laughed nervously, not wanting to be caught seeming juvenile. "Sure, I do! I just…don’t take alcohol well, and I want to be on top of things tomorrow for the major rush," she said hurriedly. Images were flashing before her eyes.

She panicked as she realized that something was definitely, horribly wrong. Her eyes widened in horror, and the cup slipped from her fingers, the deep brown liquid inside spilling all over the white carpet as it did so.

Her vision seemed to blur, and she looked up see…

"…Of course, that was before we beat Amherst," Riley was finishing up another of his basketball anecdotes in the background.

"Uh-huh," Elizabeth snapped back to the present and nodded vigorously, overcompensating for her brief lapse.

Even Riley seemed to notice something was off about her. "You OK?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in concern.

"Yeah, I’m fine," she insisted, setting her glass down on the table anyway.

Whatever Riley had been about to say was broken off by a loud shout, however: "Co-ed volleyball game on the back lawn!" one of the drunken frat boys cried out over the hum of the party.

Elizabeth immediately spun on Riley with a wide smile. "Wanna play?" she asked with her first real enthusiasm of the night.

"Yeah, great," he agreed with a broad smile, taking her hand and leading her outside…

****

Elizabeth groaned when her alarm went off. Willow groaned as well and put her pillow over her head to block out the noise. Elizabeth shut it off before giving Willow an evil little smile.

"That’s my repayment for your seven o’clock class," she joked lightly.

Willow grunted in an annoyed manner. "’Least that’s not on the weekends," she managed to mutter before drifting back to sleep.

Elizabeth took one moment to envy her before yanking herself out of bed and heading over to the bathroom. The house was eerily quiet this early on a Saturday, and that gave her plenty of time to think while she brushed her teeth.

Unfortunately, she didn’t want to think.

She’d felt so guilty about the little flashback that she’d had with Riley that she’d overcompensated for the rest of the evening, staying at the party much later than she’d intended…or wanted. She’d listened attentively to all Riley’s stories, laughed at all his jokes, laughed at all his dumb friends’ jokes about blondes and Californians and Valley Girls, and then let him give her a quick kiss before she went home.

Right now, he was probably convinced that she was about to marry him. And that wasn’t good in the slightest.

The problem was that, no matter how much she should want Riley, there really, really wasn’t anything there. She couldn’t quite figure out why. After all, he was exactly the type she’d always gone for - large, athletic, rich, jockish. And he was a hell of a lot nicer than all of the other guys that had fallen into that category. Hell, her father even approved of him. He was absolutely perfect! So what on earth was wrong with her?

The image of a lean, pale body, still wet from his morning shower, standing at the sink next to her and turning to greet her every morning popped instantly into mind. Followed closely with an image of that same body in Tae Kwon-Do uniform, his brow furrowed in concentration as he matched her blow for blow…

She shook her head. OK, this absolutely had to stop now. It was absolutely ridiculous! So, she had her fantasies about Spike. That was normal enough, given how good-looking he was, but it was just a passing crush. There was absolutely nothing there; there couldn’t be anything there, for Christ’s sake!

Elizabeth tried to picture her father’s reaction if she were to bring Spike home, and visions of disinheritance flashed through her head. It was almost funny, except for the fact that that was her father looking at her with shame and disappointment…

Spike crush, gone, she decided mentally. Spike relegated to same category as Brad Pitt of guys that are fun to think about but completely not what you REALLY want. So why didn’t she feel convinced?

She shook her head and finished applying her make-up. One quick check-over to make sure it was perfect, and she was off to Tri Xi House. The important thing was making new friends right now. And once she moved out of that house, she never had to be tempted by Spike ever again…

****

"OK!" Di said enthusiastically, her blond ponytail bobbing up and down as she practically hopped in place. "You rushers have all proved that you can par-tee! But we still have tons of cool events left!"

A cheer ran through the crowd, and Elizabeth screamed along with all the other girls, her cries drowned out by the excited "We love you, Di!"s coming from Kathy beside her.

Di spared Kathy a bright smile before turning back to her checklist. "OK then!" she announced. "This next event is always a big favorite with our guys," she gestured over to the guys from Delta Phi that stood beside her. Riley flashed Elizabeth a little wink. "You all remember your carefree days of youth, right?" Di continued to pep up the crowd. "Back when unsightly stress bags under the eyes weren’t even an issue?"

Several laughs sounded around Elizabeth.

"So, how many of you played tag and hide-and-seek back then?" Di asked, cheering in delight when all the hands in the crowd rose. "Well, that’s what we’re doing now. The guys are ‘It’, and if you girls get caught…well, your captor gets a free kiss…"

"And rumor has it there are extra points for flashing!" Graham - one of Riley’s insufferable friends she’d met last night - called out.

Elizabeth groaned inwardly. This was just the sort of thing she hated. She really wasn’t big on the casual, comfortable touching. Especially after…

She bit back the memory and forced herself back to the game at hand. After all, it probably wasn’t so bad; she was a fast runner, having kept it up in training for her martial arts even after she’d dropped all her other activities.

"Are you girls ready to have fun?!" Di exclaimed.

"Yes!" was the resounding cheer of the crowd.

"Then, go!" Di squealed excitedly.

Instantly, dozens of blondes took off in separate directions, giggling all the while. Elizabeth passed them all easily, running straight for the woods behind the sorority house and the many safe hiding places there. There were two ways she could rack up points for her rush: 1) Not get caught, and 2) Go wild with the kissing. Needless to say, she favored the first alternative.

Thankfully, no one else seemed to have followed her too far into the woods. Once she was sure she didn’t have anyone on her tail, she hid behind a large oak tree and sat down for a breather.

This wasn’t so bad, she decided after a moment’s pause, taking in the stillness of the woods and the gentle chirping of songbirds. Really, it was quite relaxing. It was a bright, sunny day, and even though the deep shade of the leafy canopy overhead she could see that the sky was a crystal clear blue.

It reminded her oddly of a moment from childhood, one of the last she had with her mother before she’d died…

A squeal nearby interrupted her silent introspection. She cautiously got to her feet to see that Graham had caught another of her fellow rushers not one hundred feet away. She slipped away as quietly as she could while the two of them made out - rather more enthusiastically than the game required, she noticed - only to run smack into Riley.

She practically screamed in fright at his sudden appearance and backed up abruptly until she crashed hard into a tree.

"Gotcha," Riley said with a broad grin on his face.

"Gotcha," a cold sneer spread across his lips as he watched her stagger backward into the wall.

Riley placed one hand on either side of her head. "You owe me a kiss," he said eagerly.

She tried to summon the energy to move, but her body wasn’t responding normally. She felt dizzy, like the world around her was growing foggy. He placed one hand on the wall on either side of her head, thoroughly trapping her…not that she could have fled anyway.

Riley leaned in close, his lips moving to meet hers.

And Elizabeth panicked. Full, all-out, hysterical panic. She slipped right under Riley’s arm - thankfully not using any of her more vicious fighting moves on him in her wild frenzy - and fled into the woods, her heart pounding in her chest and her muscles aching from the desperation of her flight. In the back of her mind, she could dimly hear Riley calling out in alarm, but she didn’t care. She just had to get far away. Far, far away…

By the time she’d finally returned to her senses, she was halfway up the stairs of Westing House and tears were flooding down her face. Embarrassed, she wiped at them ineffectually with one hand before making the gauntlet down the hallway.

The only open door was Spike’s, and she briefly managed to notice that he, Xander, and Anya all watched her, surprised, before she dashed into her room and slammed the door behind her, sobs beginning anew.

Willow and Tara instantly leapt up from where they’d been studying on Willow’s bed, alarmed at their friend’s distress.

"Elizabeth?" Tara asked in the kindest voice Elizabeth had ever heard in her entire life.

With an exhausted breath, Elizabeth collapsed beside the door. Almost immediately, Willow and Tara caught hold of her hands and led her over to her bed, murmuring reassuring nothings to her and trying to make whatever it was that was wrong better.

"Y-You’re not hurt, are you, honey?" Tara asked cautiously, checking for blood or wounds or the like.

Elizabeth shook her head slightly.

"What happened?" Willow asked softly. "Do you want to tell us?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath and didn’t answer for quite some time.

The two lovers exchanged a worried look, not quite sure what they should do.

"You want a cookie?" Willow finally asked.

Elizabeth looked up at her in surprise and slight confusion.

"Chocolate chip," Willow said tantalizingly. "We just made them ourselves this morning."

"We were saving them for the house meeting this evening," Tara gave her a shy, reassuring smile, "but you can have one now."

Elizabeth managed a little laugh through her tears. "Yeah, I’d really like a cookie," she agreed, the surreality of the situation finally getting to her and overcoming her fight-or-flight instincts.

"Here," Willow handed her the box.

"Take as many as you like," Tara said kindly. "W-We can always make more."

"Thanks," Elizabeth took a bite and instantly remembered why chocolate was the cure-all of every ailment…well, almost every ailment.

"You want milk with that?" Willow teased lightly. "Don’t wanna end up in one of those ‘got milk?’ adds."

Elizabeth managed to laugh and nodded, and Tara got up to fill her request. A slight knock sounded at the door as she did so, and Elizabeth got that panicky look back in her eyes for a second.

"I’ll make them go away," Willow reassured her as she went to answer the door.

"Is Elizabeth all right?" Anya demanded matter-of-factly when Willow peered out. "Because Spike won’t stop bothering me until I get an answer. I tried to explain that he should just ask, but then he and Xander started going on about how it could be a woman thing, and…"

Elizabeth giggled slightly as Anya continued to rant on non-stop in the background. Really, she was one of the most unique characters Elizabeth had ever met. There was also a slight fuzzy feeling in her stomach that Spike was worried about her…and considerate enough not to push his own exasperating nose into the room to find out… For a second, she just let herself revel in the feeling. She figured she deserved it after what she’d just gone though.

"Is that her laughing in there?" Anya demanded after hearing the giggles. "Does that mean she’s all right?"

"I’m fine, Anya," Elizabeth managed to call out.

"Good," Anya decided. "Well, bye." She departed just as brusquely as she’d appeared.

"Sorry about that," Willow said with a wince. "Anya’s not exactly the best at comforting…"

"It was kinda nice," Elizabeth shrugged, "made my own stupid problems seem insignificant." She smiled up at Tara and took the glass of milk offered.

"So, d-do you want to talk about it?" Tara’s slight stutter indicated that she was still a little bit unsure of how to deal with the situation.

Elizabeth managed an unconvincing smile. "It was silly, really…" she began, and then noticed their twin skeptical expressions. "Just a really bad memory," she finally sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"Oh," Willow said, realizing that she probably wouldn’t get more out of Elizabeth but regretting that she didn’t have enough information to properly comfort her roommate. "Well, if you want us to leave or something…"

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut tight and fought against that little wall deep inside her that she’d kept up for so long. She felt the sudden, overwhelming urge to just say the words out loud to someone - something she’d never managed to do before.

"Th-There was this game," she began hesitantly. "Like tag, but we had to kiss the frat guys if they caught us."

Willow and Tara shared a glance that made it all too clear exactly what they thought of that game.

"R-Riley caught me, and he had me backed up against this tree," Elizabeth continued, "a-and… I just panicked." She shut her eyes shut tight again.

Tara’s brow furrowed, still not quite clear on the situation. "You didn’t want to kiss him? He pressured you?"

Elizabeth shook her head vehemently. "It’s wasn’t him," she said so softly that they could barely hear, "it was me. A-A while back I was attacked, and I got away, but…" She broke off into sobs again.

Willow and Tara’s eyes simultaneously widened at the admission.

"Oh, sweetie," Tara cooed softly, rubbing her back, "I’m so sorry…"

"Stupid men," Willow hissed angrily. "Where do they get off playing games about these sorts of things?"

Elizabeth managed to give them both a weak smile. "Bad memories…" she repeated softly.

****

With a deep breath, Elizabeth reentered Tri Xi House. Kathy instantly bounded over to her, demanding to know where she’d been. Elizabeth brushed her off quickly with an illness excuse which she quickly passed on to Di.

The older girl nodded politely, but the odd look she gave Elizabeth made it all too clear that she’d already heard several interesting rumors about what happened.

"Tough break," Kathy said as she followed Elizabeth back out, obviously having heard a bit of something herself. "Good news, though," she said with a bit of that peppy cheer that was her constant companion, "I got in on one of the early spots! I’m a Tri Xi girl!" She bounced up and down happily.

"That’s great," Elizabeth said with a genuine smile. If there was one thing she had to say for Kathy, it was that the girl had put her full effort into getting into the sorority.

"I’m sure you’ll make it next week," Kathy reassured her. "Now, go home and get better so you can cheer our teams at their home games this week!"

"Right," Elizabeth said with a sigh of relief, escaping into the quiet of the night…

Chapter 7:

"Ah, beautiful, beautiful food," Xander exclaimed, snatching up a plate of pizza from the cafeteria line, "how I dreamed of you all throughout The Lab That Wouldn’t End…"

"Hey!" Willow retorted defensively. "You’d be stuck in that lab until seven if Lee was your proctor!"

"We appreciate the getting out in time for dinner," Elizabeth assured her, cautiously reaching for the vegetarian curry. ‘Vegetarian’ frequent meant ‘old leftovers’ in dinning hall speech.

"And no one spilled acid on themselves this year," Willow said proudly, "’cause that was so not fun…" She shuddered.

"Ooh, violence in the bio lab!" Xander said excitedly. "Spill."

Willow’s face turned slightly red. "I don’t wanna talk about someone who’s not here…"

"Spike," Xander collapsed in the seat on one side of the peroxide blond, "Willow’s holding out on a secret of violence and mayhem."

"Oi now, what’s that?" Spike’s piercing blue eyes immediately landed on Willow.

Willow sighed and sat down at the other side of the round table from them, leaving exactly one space open for Elizabeth… With a sigh, she resigned herself to sitting between Spike and Devon…although Faith and Devon might be a more accurate description since they were practically in each other’s laps. And they seemed to both be high on something.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, only to get one of those strange shy smiles that Spike seemed to reserve only for her. She managed a nervous smile back and turned to her food diligently.

"C’mon," Xander persisted in a voice that miraculously managed to be halfway between a whine and a command.

"It’s not even that good a story!" Willow protested. "You’ve played it up to be this big, interesting thing now, and it’ll take me all of five seconds to tell, and then everyone will be let down, and then badness and anger and-and…"

"Breathe," Oz reminded her with an amused little smile.

"Right," Willow nodded, taking several deep breaths. The redness receded slightly from her face as she did so.

"This ‘bout Kevin last year?" Spike inquired.

"Ha!" Willow’s eyes lit up in delight. "Spike was there! Make him tell you!"

All eyes instantly turned to the blond at Elizabeth’s side. He shrugged. "Kevin decided it’d be a great idea not to dilute the sulfuric acid an’ then accidentally shatter the beaker. Only time in school ‘istory they’ve used those emergency showers in the lab rooms."

"And it was really bad," Willow added. "His arm was all red and swollen, and the skin burned off, and…" She shuddered again.

"And she tells us this after the lab," Elizabeth commented wryly. "Would’ve been a nice warning…"

"I thought the acid label was pretty straightforward," Willow defended herself.

"’Cept to Kevin," Spike pointed out before wrinkling his nose at the bite of pasta he’d just eaten. "Are all the other entrees as foul as this one?" he felt obliged to ask.

Elizabeth tasted the vegetarian curry. "Oh yeah," she agreed before shrugging and taking another bite.

"Although," Xander had gone for the ever-popular greasy pizza option and thus escaped Elizabeth and Spike’s fate, "that lab didn’t drag on nearly as long as Renold’s lecture this morning…"

Spike chuckled at that. "’ow’d you like the part where he kept turnin’ over the slides, hopin’ that the graphs’d make sense then?"

Xander snickered at the memory. "And when he started quoting last week’s article?"

"You’re discussing a situation at which none of us were present in vague terms," Anya stated, huffing slightly. "It’s rude."

"Sorry," Spike was still laughing. "So, we’ve got this guest lecturer in psych, right? An’ I swear he was drunk or somethin’…"

"There’s this one graph," Xander picked up the story when the memory had Spike laughing too hard to talk anymore, "and it’s supposed to show one trait increasing while the population’s decreasing. But the graph’s just of this one straight line…"

"So Renold goes over to the slide projector an’ starts flippin’ the slide around every which way, tryin’ to get this straight line to turn into an X," Spike was laughing slightly into his napkin. "It took ‘im at least five minutes to figure out it was impossible."

"And then he keeps referring to the graph just like it’s what he said it was and gesturing to it with the laser pointer…"

"Which isn’t even turned on…"

"And then he forgets what he’s talking about halfway through the lecture, so he just starts rereading the article from last week…"

"On an’ entirely different topic…"

"The whole class was trying not to burst out in hysterics the entire time," Xander laughed. "I swear he was stoned or something."

"Drunk," Spike stuck by his earlier assessment.

Faith stuck out her lower lip and pouted. "It’s not fair," she insisted. "All the wacky stuff happens in that class. How come my professors never show up to class under the influence?"

Devon gave her hand a reassuring pat, and they both giggled simultaneously, their tones sounding a little bit loopy to the normal sober population of the table.

"Take Psychology and Society sometime," Xander suggested. "It’s hilarious."

"Loved Walters’ lecture," Spike agreed. "Jus’ go watch the telly since there’s no society anymore anyway."

Xander laughed. "It was cruel and unusual punishment making us listen to a whole hour and a half lecture after that," he commented.

Anya yawned, bored of the topic. "Are we having movie night tonight?" she asked Willow. "I need a break from developing valuable money-making skills."

Willow smiled at Anya’s typical unique view of everything. "Yup," she agreed, "the common room at eight."

"What is it tonight?" Oz asked curiously.

Willow shrugged before turning to all the freshmen. "Standard procedure," she informed them. "I get a cheesy romance, a comedy, and an action/horror movie. Then we vote on which one to watch when we see who shows up. If anyone sees Jonathan, let him know."

"Where is Jonathan anyway?" Xander asked curiously. "His door’s always closed, and I haven’t seen him since orientation…"

"Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new House Ghost," Anya commented.

"House Ghost?"

"Someone who lives in the house but you never see," Oz explained. "There’s one every year."

"’ad that Korean girl last year," Spike agreed before turning back to Willow. "So you’re not even givin’ us the potential movies for tonight?" He raised one scarred eyebrow.

"You’ll just have to show up to find out," Willow said with an evil little grin.

Spike shrugged. "’ll be late," he informed her. "Dojo. But ‘ll watch whatever you’ve got…"

"Because Spike’s a movie whore," Anya announced proudly.

Spike groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes, thank you for bringin’ up that lovely conversation, Anyanka," he said sarcastically.

"A ‘movie whore’?" Elizabeth couldn’t help but tease.

"He’ll watch anything you leave in the lounge," Anya provided helpfully. "Last year, we caught him watching Bamb-"

"Finish that sentence an’ your money meets with a painful death," Spike practically growled.

Elizabeth had heard enough, though. "Bambi?" she giggled slightly at the image of Spike, in full black leather ensemble, weeping when Bambi’s mom got shot.

Spike shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His Big Bad image was shot for the moment, and he knew it. Anya gave him a smug, victorious smile from across the table. His eyes narrowed in anticipated retaliation.

"I quote," he began calmly, " ‘well, maybe Communism was a good idea…’"

"I was drunk!" Anya exclaimed in horror. "I made up to my money later that night." The quirky little smile on the edges of her lips indicated to Elizabeth for the first time that Anya played up the money thing to sometimes-ridiculous levels as a joke.

"Anyway," Spike turned his attention back to Elizabeth, "you comin’ tonight? Wes, Kendra, an’ I are gettin’ in some extra practice before Regionals…"

Elizabeth was torn. Kicking the crap out of Spike was exactly what she felt like doing tonight. Unfortunately… Well, it had been almost a week since her major freak-out during the Tri Xi rush now, and she’d been a bit neglectful of the entire organization ever since. Kathy had just finished moving all her stuff over to Tri Xi House yesterday, and Elizabeth felt herself spurred onward by the other girl’s success. And, if she wanted a chance in hell, she absolutely had to attend…

"Football game tonight," she said truly apologetically. "I’ll be at practice on Friday, though," she quickly assured him.

"Guess ‘ll just have to mop the mats with your lovely li’l ass then," Spike taunted.

"Overconfident much?" Elizabeth retorted in disbelief.

He gave her that cocky smirk of his. Hell, he knew she was a better fighter than he was. He had a bit faster reflexes, but only that allowed him to keep up with her at all. Still, she was the most fun opponent he’d had in ages, and he wasn’t about to throw in the towel yet.

"C’mon over tonight an’ try me," he persisted. "Who needs American football anyway? ‘S like rugby for poofters."

"Ever heard of school spirit?" Elizabeth retorted.

"Heard ‘f it, avoid it whenever possible," he said dismissively.

"Ugh!" Elizabeth exclaimed in annoyance. "You are so obnoxious!"

He stood up to leave, taking his empty tray with him. "An’ that’s why you love me, Summers," he said with a little wink.

She watched his leather-clad back as he walked away before turning to the table to discover that everyone had caught her ogling. "What?" she demanded defensively, turning studiously to her plate, her face flaming bright red.

* * *

"Goooo Wildcats!" the cheerleaders screamed out.

Elizabeth was not impressed. They were still down, twenty-one to zilch, and things didn’t look like they were going to turn in their favor anytime soon. Plus, ‘Wildcats’? Her sarcastic inner voice added. Couldn’t spend five minutes to come up with an ORIGINAL name? For the first time since her extensive studying for Steinberg’s pop quizzes made her miss cheerleading tryouts, she didn’t regret it.

Next to her, Riley shook his head at the next play. "They need to hold their line and move the ball!" he exclaimed as if this was some kind of great strategic analysis.

"’Cause the whole line-collapsing-followed-by-speedy-turnover thing just isn’t working for them," Elizabeth retorted in a voice slightly more sarcastic than she had meant it to be.

Riley seemed oblivious to all sarcasm, however. Fortunately, he’d bought her I-had-the-stomach-flu excuse for her odd behavior last week hook, line, and sinker. "No, see," he explained patiently, "the line needs to hold so the quarterback has time to make good passes."

"Uh-huh," Elizabeth tried to force a pleasant smile onto her face. Every once in a while Riley would treat her as if she were some dumb, vapid blond, and it really grated on her nerves…

The final minutes of the game wound down before them, and Elizabeth stood up to cheer when Riley did at the Wild Cat’s first completed long pass of the game. The receiver was tackled shortly thereafter, of course, but the crowd’s enthusiasm remained high.

All for naught, too. The clock ran out, and the College of New York picked up another spectacular loss.

"Fun game," Riley commented as they exited the stands. "Too bad we lost, though."

"Maybe next time," Elizabeth sounded unconvinced. She’d discovered over the past couple of weeks that the more jockish, wealthy elements of the college were a very small minority of the student body. This didn’t stop Delta Phi and Tri Xi from thinking they owned the campus because basically all the real academics didn’t pay them much attention, let alone bother trying to shatter their illusions. Anyway, as a result, the sports teams kind of…sucked…

"We lost a couple good players last year," Riley commented. "It’ll take the team a while to recover from that. Best receiver we had just upped and quit at the beginning of last year," he said a bit bitterly.

"Dropped out?" Elizabeth guessed, only half interested.

"Decided he’d rather play in Osborne’s band," Riley corrected her.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at that.

"Devon Stanton," Riley practically spit out the name. "I mean, who ditches the football team to hang around with pot-smoking freaks?"

"Oz doesn’t smoke pot," Elizabeth felt obliged to point out.

Riley snorted. "Same difference," he retorted. "Devon had a real future ahead of him…until he met Osborne."

"He seems pretty happy now," Elizabeth countered.

"And our team has to suffer for it," Riley sulked. "Luckily, the basketball team didn’t suffer the same misfortune…"

Elizabeth sighed inwardly and half tuned out for yet another of Riley’s tales of basketball victory. They’d drifted over the Delta Phi in the meantime, and Elizabeth settled herself against one of the porch posts while Riley replayed every second of the Bates game last season for her in excruciatingly slow motion. Even she let out a little sigh of relief when Riley finally scored the winning basket, not so much because she cared about the game but rather because the story was finally over.

"So, yeah," Riley said with a goofy grin on his face, convinced that he’d just impressed his future wife with his sports prowess.

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed, fingering the sleeve of her blouse self-consciously. "I finally heard from my dad about you," she tried a slightly less boring topic.

"Really? Did he say all sorts of nasty things about me?" Riley teased lightly.

"No, actually, he said you were a great guy from a great family," she laughed slightly. "He was excited that we’d met."

"Pretty much what I heard from my dad," Riley agreed, "except…not the guy part, a girl part instead."

Elizabeth laughed. "You’re graduating a year early, I heard…and then going to West Point."

"Yup," Riley said, "get myself well-established while I’m still young."

"My dad’s philosophy," Elizabeth commented, whether as a compliment or a critique, not even she fully knew.

Riley took it as a compliment. "Can I ask you a question?" he suddenly asked curiously.

"Sure," Elizabeth agreed with a small smile.

"Why ‘Elizabeth’?" he asked. "Why not…?"

Elizabeth’s face visibly paled. "You know about…?"

"Buffy."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, and even Riley picked up on the tension in her. "I’m sorry if I…" he was puzzled for a minute, "said something wrong?"

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, quickly reassuring. "No," she repeated more confidently, "I just kind of wanted to make a fresh start at college, and ditching the childhood name…"

"I totally get it," Riley said with a smile. "Get out from your father’s thumb a bit…"

"Exactly," Elizabeth agreed with a little smile. "He still refuses to call me ‘Elizabeth’," she rolled her eyes slightly.

"At least your dad doesn’t make you call him ‘general’ and ‘sir’ all the time," Riley countered.

"Dads," Elizabeth sighed, "can’t live with ‘em…"

"Can’t escape ‘em," Riley finished the slightly modified saying.

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed somewhat wistfully.

"Look," Riley said after a brief pause, studying her intently the whole time, "I…really like you, Elizabeth," he began slightly bashfully.

"I like you, too," she quickly reassured him.

He gave her a broad smile at that. "I take it I’ve got a shot then?" he asked hopefully.

"You’re the only one even in the running," she informed him with a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Great!" he said enthusiastically. "So, about this Friday evening…"

She flinched. "Tae Kwon-Do practice," she said apologetically.

"You do martial arts?" he said in disbelief, looking her up and down. "No offense, but…I doubt you could take down anyone." He made a little gesture to indicate how short she was.

She managed a false laugh. "Yeah, well, it’s great exercise and…exercise…" She’d dealt with this reaction dozens of times before, but it never ceased to irk her. Didn’t anyone know that with the proper training, you could actually use an opponent’s size against them? You’d think that if all those lame karate movies had served any purpose, it would have been this basic education…

"Saturday then," Riley decided.

"Saturday," Elizabeth agreed.

"I’ll see you in history tomorrow." Riley leaned in slowly.

"Yeah," she agreed with a small smile.

His lips met hers and… Well, she responded because she knew that was what she was supposed to do. She rested her hands on his shoulders and let his tongue into her mouth and… It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, it was just…not really all that enjoyable, either.

The kiss lingered a while, and Elizabeth reopened her eyes and looked around, waiting for Riley to be done. She studied the board patterns of the roof of the porch and even casually managed to check her watch, all while Riley’s eyes remained closed and oblivious.

With nothing much else to do, her thoughts turned to the man she was with and what their future together would be like… She almost got a queasy feeling in her stomach at what it would be like to sleep with him. She knew his body type was the ideal for men, yet for some reason she had absolutely no desire to see Riley naked. And the feel of him on top of her, smothering her with his weight… She shuddered. She felt halfway suffocated just by his kiss.

Stop it! Her mind scolded her. You’re being mean! Riley’s a good, decent guy, and so what if the physical thing isn’t there yet? Just keeping working at it, and eventually you’ll feel something. Just try harder.

A nagging little voice in the back of her head that she rarely listened to told her that if the magic wasn’t there with Riley now, it wasn’t going to come. She bit it down as usual.

"Wow," Riley said with a smile, finally pulling away.

"Wow," Elizabeth agreed, trying to sound breathless.

"Tomorrow then," Riley moved to go inside.

"Tomorrow," she agreed brightly. That’s it; try harder. And then she set off back home.

* * *

"Missed a great show," Spike announced the minute she entered the lounge. "Kendra kickin’ my ass, followed by ‘The Princess Bride’."

" ‘The Princess Bride’?" Elizabeth scrunched up her nose at the title.

Everyone in the room’s jaws simultaneously dropped. "You’ve never seen it?!" Xander exclaimed in complete and utter horror.

"Should I?" Elizabeth didn’t look convinced.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Tara said teasingly. "How have you possibly survived this long?"

"Quick, play it again," Spike announced.

"I need sleep," Elizabeth shook him off. "Some of us actually attend class in the morning…"

He gave her a sheepish grin at the past two history classes he’d slept through. "It should be around for the weekend," he informed her. "An’ you’d better watch it."

"You gonna make me?" she teased lightly, getting right in his face. "If Kendra kicked your ass, do you honestly think you’ve got a chance in hell of beating me?"

His eyes flicked down to where her lips were mere inches from his, and her entire body burned slightly in anticipation. He didn’t make any move, however. "Only reason she beat me is ‘cause ‘f that back-kick move you taught her. One ‘f these days ‘ll figure it out an’…"

"Then I’ll start using my good moves on you," she teased mercilessly, giving him a quick little pat on the head. "When you’re ready to play in the big leagues…"

"Bitch," he accused, but in a strangely affectionate way.

"Asshole," she retorted in the same manner before moving away from him and yawning. "I’ve got to be awake to see how badly Steinberg fucked me over on that quiz on Monday," she announced to everyone present, "so good-night."

"Good luck," Spike gave her a wistful little smile as she closed the door behind her.

Once inside, Elizabeth felt her heart racing in her chest and desperately tried to calm it down. OK, what in the hell had that been? Was she some kind of sadomasochist, leading Spike on like that? Why on earth had she done it?

Or did the farce occur earlier tonight with someone else? The nagging thought wouldn’t leave her alone. She tried to ignore it; really, she did. But, nevertheless, she tossed and turned all night and, by morning, she was completely exhausted.

Chapter 8:

Elizabeth looked at her paper and groaned. Only a twenty-eight? She’d never even seen a grade that low, and she’d helped Candy with all her make-up quizzes all throughout high-school algebra. At least most other people in the class looked displeased with their quiz results as well.

Steinberg looked more irate than usual. "Frankly," he said sternly, looking down at them over the rims of his glasses, "I’m disappointed in you all. In case I didn’t make it clear, I expect you to do all the readings, as well as some outside research. It’s quite clear that most of you didn’t even come close to that. I’ll expect you all to do significantly better in the future. That’s all for today…" He paused and looked at his notes. "And will Baker, Davidson, Kilpatrick, and Summers please see me after class?"

Elizabeth flinched and went to meet her doom with the other three classmates.

Steinberg gave them all a cold look. "It’s quite obvious from your scores that none of you are ready to take this class," he informed them.

"B-But I need this to graduate!" a scrawny boy with glasses exclaimed, practically hyperventilating.

"No," Steinberg countered, "you need an art credit to graduate. I advise you all to take visual arts down the hall." He handed them each a business card with a professor’s name, office hours, and phone number on it. "You should be able to pass just on attendance alone," he added snidely, "which at least some of you ought to manage…"

"Isn’t that a year long course?" a meek Asian girl asked.

"Heaven forbid you should actually take a whole year on something as frivolous as aesthetics," Steinberg said gruffly before snatching up his bag and stalking out of the room.

"Like he knows the first thing about aesthetics," Elizabeth grumbled just loudly enough for the other three students to hear. It was just a defense mechanism, though. Underneath it all, she was fighting back tears. She’d never so blatantly failed at anything in her life.

"Maybe it won’t be so bad," the guy with glasses tried to sound hopeful as he glanced at the professor’s card. "All we have to do is draw pretty pictures…"

"And we never have to see Steinberg again," the jockish football player of their group added.

With a sigh, Elizabeth headed off to history. There was just no way this day could get any worse…

* * *

Elizabeth groaned at the paper assignment for history.

Beside her, Riley gave her hand a sympathetic pat. "It’s not so bad," he insisted.

"Ten pages?!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "How am I supposed to write ten pages on anything, let alone something as boring as the Civil War?"

"There’s lots of topics that could go on for much longer than that," Riley countered, pointing to one. "See? You could write a whole dissertation on the contrast between Lee and Grant’s battle strategies."

"Maybe you could," she grumbled, slipping the assignment into her notebook.

"So," Riley began, rising to his feet, "you free for coffee?"

"I still have English after this class," she reminded him.

He waved one hand in the air dismissively. "It’s Friday; skip it."

"I can’t," Elizabeth insisted. "I have to lead discussion today."

"Bummer," Riley shrugged. "But I’ll see you tonight when you’re officially made a Tri Xi girl, right?" he said with a little grin.

Elizabeth managed a smile of her own at that. "Wouldn’t miss it for the world," she agreed.

"Tonight then." Riley leaned in to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

Elizabeth returned it halfheartedly, only to stumble when someone bumped up against her as they walked up the aisle. She didn’t even have to look to know that it was Spike. A slight pang of guilt passed through her at just how heartbroken he had looked when he first caught her and Riley kissing before class.

So absorbed was she in these thoughts that she didn’t even notice when Riley pulled away. "Definitely tonight," he repeated with a little grin that hinted of something more.

Elizabeth felt something turn in her stomach, but she just smiled brightly. "Yeah," she pretended not to pick up on the hidden meaning there. "Well, bye!"

"Good luck with that discussion," Riley called out.

"Thanks," she managed to shoot out before dashing through the door, already well on her way to see what disaster this next class could bring…

* * *

"College is an evil bitch goddess," Elizabeth announced, finally flopping down onto her bed.

Tara gave her a sympathetic smile. "Discussion that bad?" she inquired.

"No, actually," Elizabeth sighed, "the discussion went all right. It was the everything else that sucked."

"Ooh," Willow flinched, "got Steinberg’s quiz back, huh?"

Elizabeth groaned.

"W-Well, how bad could it be?" Tara asked hopefully.

"So bad that he politely suggested that I drop his class," Elizabeth countered.

Willow and Tara double flinched in perfect unison. "Ouch and ouch," Willow agreed.

"Maybe it’ll be better this way," Tara suggested. "You won’t have to do all that work for Steinberg’s class…"

"Yeah," Elizabeth retorted, "all I have to do is…" she picked up the course description for the visual arts class and began to read, " ‘create a series or project in a combination of artistic techniques that exemplifies a greater understanding of reality and the human condition’." She frowned at the paper. "What does that even mean?" she demanded.

Willow bit her lip. "Well, if that’s so bad, you could always wait until next year and try a music course…"

Elizabeth laughed at that. "My musical talents are even more pathetic than my artistic ones," she insisted.

"Music history?" Tara suggested.

"I can barely remember as far back as The New Kids On The Block," Elizabeth retorted and sighed. "Plus, my father would kill me if he found out I was only taking three courses…"

Tara batted one hand in the hair in an unconcerned manner. "Fathers are meant to be disobeyed. If I’d listened to my father, I’d be playing homemaker in some dumpy little town with some dumpy little husband, cleaning up after my father and brother’s lazy asses."

Elizabeth looked at her askance.

"It’s true," Willow agreed. "No matter how bad your family situation is, you can’t even come close to beating Tara’s…"

"Maybe…" Elizabeth sighed.

"Just meet with this visual arts professor, and see what you think," Tara advised gently. "At least that’ll give you a better feel for what you want to do…"

"You know," Elizabeth said thoughtfully, "that’s actually really good advice. Thanks."

Tara blushed slightly and tried to indicate that it was nothing.

"That’s why they made me RA," Willow said proudly. "I have no useful skills whatsoever, but that beautiful girlfriend of mine…she’s better than the entire advisory system put together."

Tara flushed more, and Willow leaned in to give her a quick kiss. Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile. There was something about the two Wiccans that always made her feel better, no matter how down she was. It was nice to have two friends that were helpful and supportive no matter what she wanted to do. Now, if only everyone else could be the same way…

* * *

Elizabeth nervously knocked on the half-opened office door.

"Come in," a woman’s voice sounded from behind the desk, turning around to look at the door. She was a kindly-looking woman in her late forties or early fifties, the first hints of gray just beginning to streak through her sandy blond hair.

"A-Are you Professor Devereux?" Elizabeth asked nervously.

"That’s me," Professor Devereux agreed with a friendly smile, gesturing for Elizabeth to come in. "What can I do for you…?"

"Elizabeth," Elizabeth shook her head apologetically. "Elizabeth Summers."

"Ah," Devereux nodded in recognition. "One of the students lucky enough to escape Walter before it was too late…"

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed slightly. "Walter?" she asked confusedly.

"Professor Steinberg," Devereux clarified. "Please, Elizabeth, sit down." She gestured to the vacant chair on the other side of her desk.

Elizabeth nervously did so. "How did you, er, know…?" she began anxiously.

Devereux rolled her eyes. "Walter does this every year," she informed Elizabeth. "I make him give me the names in advance so I can save his students before they fall into a pit of despair."

Elizabeth managed a wry laugh. "Yeah," she agreed, "because that’s pretty much what I’m doing right now…"

"Don’t worry about it in the slightest," Devereux assured her. "Unless you’ve got pretty extensive background in art history, Steinberg’s class can be a little…"

"Impossible?" Elizabeth suggested hesitantly.

Devereux laughed at that. "Exactly what I would say if I were allowed to," she agreed with a little wink.

Elizabeth giggled slightly at that. She’d never met a teacher before that was this nice.

"So, Elizabeth," Devereux said with an encouraging smile, "what do you think of visual arts?"

Elizabeth nervously fingered the strap of her backpack in her lap. "Kinda like it’s…"

"Impossible?" Devereux suggested.

Elizabeth shrugged slightly in agreement.

"Let me guess," Devereux said with a wry smile, "you read the course description, right?" Elizabeth nodded, and Devereux shook her head in dismay. "I swear the people who write those try to make everything sound like a root canal. Just ignore it," she assured Elizabeth, "kinda like a corporate mission statement."

Elizabeth cracked a little smile at that. "So, what do you do in your class then?" she asked tentatively.

"Pretty much whatever you want," Devereux informed her. "We’ve got an hour and a half on Mondays and Wednesdays scheduled for the studio. You come in, and you can do whatever you like. I’ve got projects already planned out that you can do if you want to, or if you’ve got your own ideas, you can use your studio time for that as well. Art is about doing what you like best. I’m just there to help the process along."

"I’ve kind of, er, never really taken an art class before," Elizabeth admitted ruefully.

"Not a problem," Devereux insisted. "You can do the strange little exercises I’ve got until you get some of your own ideas. You don’t have to paint the Mona Lisa or anything."

Elizabeth let out a relieved sigh. "Good," she agreed, "because stick-figures are about as good as I can get…"

"Stick-figures can be art, too, depending how you use them," Devereux said with a little smile, "no matter what stodgy old curmudgeons like Steinberg say."

Elizabeth let out a genuine chortle of laughter at this. "I think I can handle that," she agreed.

"Great," Devereux said excitedly. "Do you want me to sign a registration form for you?"

"That’d be great," Elizabeth agreed, shuffling through her papers and finding one.

"Now, you have missed four studio sessions already," Devereux informed her. "That’s not enough to drop you grade down past a B+, but if you want to make those up, you’ll be back up into the A range with no penalty."

"When can I do that?" Elizabeth asked.

Devereux shrugged. "Whenever you like. The building’s open from seven to five weekdays and during the afternoons on Saturdays. There’s a little sign-up sheet so you can write down your hours. Likewise, if you’d rather come in on your time instead of class… Well, it’s all pretty flexible. Just make sure you actually do the required number of hours."

"Not a problem at all," Elizabeth insisted. "I swear I’ll make it all up."

"Ah, a responsible student," Devereux said approvingly, signing the form for Elizabeth and handing it back to her. "Now, all we have to do is find the artist hidden within…"

"She’ll be pretty hard to find," Elizabeth insisted.

"I don’t know," Devereux said thoughtfully. "Something tells me you’re just waiting to shout out to the world just how unique you really are…"

* * *

By the time Elizabeth arrived at Tri Xi House for the final announcement of the rush, she was practically skipping. Who ever would’ve thought that a teacher would put in the effort to make a fun class? She was still a little wary about the whole having to draw thing, but she had a feeling Professor Devereux would let her ease into it, instead of Steinberg’s shoving-you-right-off-the-pier-into-freezing-cold-water technique.

She actually gave Riley an excited wave when she saw him and an enthusiastic little kiss.

"You seem cheerful," he commented, slightly surprised. "What could possibly have erased the depression of Steinberg’s quiz?"

"No more Steinberg," she replied brightly. "And a great new teacher."

"Congrats," Riley said with a fond smile. "Glad to see you’ve gotten past the Friday morning blues."

"And I only need one more thing to make my day look brighter…"

Riley blushed slightly until he realized she’d turned her attentions to the makeshift stage that had been set up in Tri Xi’s backyard. "Oh yeah," he remembered under his breath, "the rush…"

"Testing, testing," Di tapped the microphone experimentally.

A loud screech blared from the speakers, and everyone grabbed hold of their ears in pain. Di gestured frantically to where Forrest and Graham were trying to fix the system, and they gave her apologetic looks. Finally, Forrest gave her the thumb’s up sign again.

"Testing?" Di said cautiously. No eardrum-shattering feedback sounded out, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "Welcome," she announced in a bright voice, "to this year’s final Tri Xi rush!"

Several cheers and squeals echoed throughout the crowd.

"So," Di said with a broad smile, "without further ado, here’s the new list!"

Elizabeth held her breath and listened as the names were called out…and frowned slightly when Di passed her name in alphabetical order. She shook her head slightly and waited until the end of the list… Still nothing.

"Now," Di said with a conspiratorial little smile. "We’ve saved a few names for the very end, just because these three girls did an extra super job. So don’t freak out yet!"

Elizabeth breathed a little sigh of relief.

Di remained quiet for a moment in a dramatic little pause. "Welcome also, Sandra Howard, Kelly Anderson, and Jun Xiao!"

Applause broke through the audience, and the three girls in question squealed in excitement and relief, accepting all the hugs that their other fellow sisters bestowed upon them.

And Elizabeth stood stunned. She hadn’t made it in. She’d failed.

"Elizabeth?" Riley asked, concerned. "Elizabeth, are you OK?"

She managed to nod numbly, not even hearing his words as she slowly began to walk off, trying desperately to process this fact. She was dimly aware of the fact that the others that hadn’t made it in were wandering off in the same manner, but she couldn’t quite process that at the moment.

Because Buffy Summers, most popular girl at Sunnydale High, cheerleading captain, daughter of the famous and wealthy Hank Summers, hadn’t even managed to get into a stupid sorority…

* * *

"Oh, honey, I’m so sorry!" Tara exclaimed the instant she saw Elizabeth’s downcast face.

"Oh no," Willow exclaimed, biting her lip. "What happened?"

"I didn’t make it," Elizabeth said numbly, still not quite believing it herself. "I didn’t get in…"

Tara quickly got up to give her a quick hug. "Maybe next year," she said encouragingly.

"Next year," Elizabeth repeated in a voice that was halfway between a laugh and a sob.

"Hey now," Willow sat her down on her bed and stroked her hair lightly, "it’ll be OK. You’ll see. You’re probably better off without those snooty bitches anyway."

"Willow!" Tara chided, her eyes wide. "Elizabeth really wanted to get in. Don’t insult her friends!"

"No," Elizabeth shook her head slightly, "they are snooty bitches," she agreed with a wry smile. "Not even snooty bitches would let me in…" Somehow, that made her situation seem even more pathetic. Slowly, the first tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I didn’t mean it like that!" Willow clarified, obviously flustered. "I-I just meant that, I mean, they’re all shallow and, yeah, boring and…who would want to hang out with them anyway? I mean, you’re so much cooler and nicer and way, way smarter and…and…"

"Breathe," Tara reminded her.

"Right," Willow nodded, taking in several deep breaths and slowly overcoming her agitated hyperventilating.

Elizabeth cast her a rueful smile. "Thanks for trying to cheer me up anyway," she sighed, lying back on her bed.

"Oh sweetie," said Tara, sitting down on her bed as well. "M-Maybe…" she trailed off, looking down nervously at her fingers and picking at the nonexistent chip in her nonexistent nail polish.

"Yeah?" Elizabeth looked up at her curiously. Tara tended to always know exactly what to say to make everything better.

"M-Maybe it’s kind of a good thing you didn’t get in?" Tara suggested nervously. "I mean, m-maybe you didn’t really want to?" She ducked her head shyly, afraid that what she’d said would upset Elizabeth further.

"Whattaya mean?" Elizabeth asked curiously, still sniffing slightly.

"Well," Tara shrugged, "it just seems like…well, you didn’t put your best effort into getting in. I mean, I’ve seen how hard you work for your classes, but this whole Tri Xi thing…every time you talked about it, it was like this terrible chore you had to do. L-Like you thought you had to get in, but you really weren’t into it that much… At least from my perspective," she added hastily. "And, I mean, I don’t really know anything. I’m probably completely wrong…"

"No," Elizabeth let out a weary sigh, "you’re not exactly wrong. It’s just…"

"Something you were supposed to do?" Willow asked tentatively. "Part and parcel of the whole college experience?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed. "My mom rushed, and my dad was in a frat, and then all their families, and…"

"So, who cares what they did?" Willow insisted. "You do what you want. And, hell, living in a dorm is part of the college experience, too."

"That’s right," Tara agreed. "You can hang out with us and made cookies and watch lame horror movies a-and watch Spike and Anya argue at the dinning table…"

Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle slightly at Tara’s depiction of Westing House life.

"A-And you’re two blocks closer to campus this way," Willow added, "so when it’s all cold in the winter, you won’t have to walk outside as far!"

"Yeah," Elizabeth conceded with a little sniffle. "Only…" she trailed off and bit her lip.

"What is it?" Tara asked softly.

"Can we maybe make the cookies tonight?" she asked hopefully.

Willow and Tara both laughed. "You betcha," Willow agreed. "I’ll go down and grab us some ingredients before the dinning hall shuts down," she said enthusiastically.

Elizabeth’s hesitant little smile turned into a bright grin.

"Here," Tara handed her a tissue to wipe away the last of her tears.

Elizabeth did so before cautiously looking at herself in the mirror. "Wow, my makeup kinda died, didn’t it?" she commented with a little grimace.

"Go fix it," Tara advised. "You’ll feel ten times better."

"You won’t go down without me?" Elizabeth said, a slight pleading tone in her voice.

"I’ll be here cleaning up Willow’s junk food mess," Tara said, looking at Willow’s bed with a disapproving look.

"Thanks," Elizabeth said with a little smile. "I’ll be right back…"

The feel of the cool water on her face wiping away all the mascara streaks really did make her feel ten times better. "Shoulda learned by now," she chuckled to herself. "Tara knows everything…"

"She does at that," Spike commented gruffly, practically slamming the bathroom door shut behind him as he entered.

Elizabeth turned to look at him in surprise and then found her mouth suddenly dry. He was stripped down to nothing but the little white towel around his waist once more. "Didn’t you already take a shower this morning?" she asked, trying desperately to focus on anything but the sight of his strong, bare chest.

He held up a little bottle for her inspection. "Bleach day," he informed her before stalking over to one of the shower stalls. "An’ what’re you doin’ here?" he asked somewhat snidely. "Don’ you an’ Soldier Boy ‘ave big plans?"

"Not tonight," Elizabeth bit her lower lip. She absolutely hated the fact that Spike was mad at her and Riley being together.

"Jus’ figured," he retorted, "what with you missin’ practice an’ all…"

"Sorry about that," Elizabeth apologized softly. "Rush ended today."

"Well, congratulations," he said coldly, "be sure to let the door hit you on your ass on the way out…an’ don’t expect me to ‘elp move all your crap."

"Spike?" she began nervously, tapping him lightly on the shoulder, her fingers practically burning at the feel of sleek muscle beneath smooth skin.

He turned to look at her in surprise.

"I’m not moving out," she informed him with a little smile. "I’m staying here this year."

"Really?" he said in the worst attempt to conceal his happiness that she’d ever heard. "I mean, uh, tough break an’ all that…"

She couldn’t help but laugh slightly at that. "It’s OK," she agreed. "I’m good with it," she said confidently.

"That’s great," he said softly, looking down at the floor. "Like havin’ you around, y’know?" he said in the shyest voice she’d heard from him yet.

Elizabeth noticed for the first time just how long and thick his eyelashes were. She had the sudden urge to just lean in and brush her lips against them… She shook her head, blocking the inappropriate thought from her mind.

"Yeah," she agreed wistfully. "So," she said matter-of-factly, breaking the strange little spell that had been over them, "are you having the extra practice this Wednesday? I really need to work out, but this week’s just been so hectic…"

"Yeah," he agreed. "Can you make it at five?"

"At the dojo?" she nodded. "I’ll be there." A sly smile spread across her face. "And I’ll mop the floor with your cute, white butt."

" ‘Cute’?" he repeated with a little eyebrow waggle. "Y’know," he held up the bleach again, "’d be happy to touch up your roots for you if you’d like to join me…" He gestured over to the shower.

Elizabeth blushed slightly before she realized the implications of his statement. "I do not bleach my hair!" she insisted furiously.

"Sure you don’t, blondie," he said with a conspiratorial wink. "Sure you won’t join me? It can be our li’l…secret…"

"God, could get any more full of yourself?" she asked rhetorically.

He chuckled. "’S probably not quite your color anyway," he agreed with a cheeky little grin.

"And you’d better clean out the shower after you’re done with that stuff!" she felt the irresistible urge to keep chiding him.

"Always do, luv," he agreed.

"Good," she said primly, taking one last look at the smooth, marbled curves of his bare chest before she left the bathroom behind. A sly little smile slipped across her face as she reentered her room, and she took a deep breath to calm herself. Oh yeah, there were definite advantages to living here…

Chapter 9:

"No, really, Dad!" Elizabeth exclaimed with an exasperated sigh. "I’m fine. Honestly!"

"Are you sure, sweetie?" Hank Summers sounded unconvinced. "Because all I’d have to do is pull a few strings with the board of directors…"

"I like living in the dorm," Elizabeth said very slowly and precisely into the receiver, hoping her father would finally realize that she didn’t want his ‘help’.

"Well, if you’re sure…" Hank said hesitantly.

"Absolutely positively," Elizabeth said in as perky a manner as she could manage.

"All right then," Hank finally agreed with a little shake of his head. Sometimes he just didn’t understand his daughter one bit. "So, how are classes going?"

Elizabeth groaned. "I’ve got midterms coming right up," she complained. "Nonstop studying."

"On a Saturday?" Hank shook his head. "You should be out partying, spending some time with that Riley Finn you’re so fond of…"

Elizabeth managed a nervous little laugh. The truth was that she kind of been distancing herself from Riley for the past week. She might be happier now that the whole Greek scene had rejected her, but it still hurt…

"I plan on going out tonight," she informed him. "Halloween and all."

"That sounds like fun," her father agreed, obviously distracted and not paying attention to a word she said. Elizabeth could almost see him shuffling the papers on his desk.

"Yup," she agreed brightly.

"That’s great," he replied before his tone turned serious. "Buffy honey, can I talk with you about something?"

Elizabeth bit her lip both at the name and at what ‘talk with you’ usually meant. "Sure," she tried to sound enthusiastic.

"Well, sweetie, were you planning on coming home for Thanksgiving?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes slightly. Like she hadn’t been expecting this for weeks. "Yeah, why?" she lied.

Hank sighed. "It turns out that I have to be out of the country that weekend, and your mom-"

"Stepmom," Elizabeth emphasized.

Hank’s voice hardened. "This childish grudge you’ve got against your mother-" he began.

"She is my stepmother," Elizabeth argued, cutting him off. "Now, what were you saying?"

He abruptly remembered that he was supposed to be buttering her up and let the subject drop. "Anyway, you mom’s going to be representing me at the charity dinner in Seattle that weekend, and, well…you won’t really have anything to come home to."

Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose I could stay here," she agreed glumly. "The dinning hall’s still open that night and everything…"

"Great!" Hank said happily. "I’m really sorry about this, sweetie, but you know…"

" ‘Business first’," she completed for him in a dull monotone.

"Knew you’d understand," he agreed. "So, I’ll call you back in a couple of weeks to check up, OK?" She heard rustling papers in the background.

"Sure," she sulked slightly.

"Daddy misses his little girl," he said in a voice so saccharine she rolled her eyes.

"Miss you too, dad."

"Bye, honey." The line went abruptly dead as Hank Summers returned to the business world with his full force.

Elizabeth groaned wearily and rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, dinning hall food for Thanksgiving," she grumbled under her breath before reluctantly dialing the next of her dreaded calls. "Is Riley Finn there?" she asked in a too sweet tone when Forrest picked up the phone.

"Just a minute," he grumbled slightly before turning and yelling. "Riley! Your girl’s on the line!"

Elizabeth winced inwardly at his assessment of her.

There were several muffled noises at the other end, and then Riley finally picked up. "Hey, Elizabeth!" he said brightly. "What’s up? Are we on for tonight?"

"Sorry, Riley," Elizabeth tried to sound disappointed. "I’m going out with some friends."

"I could go with," Riley offered.

Elizabeth flinched inwardly. A night with both Spike and Riley. The thought was too horrible to contemplate. "And miss the big Delta Phi party?" she pointed out. "You’ve been planning it for weeks. Halloween only comes around once a year, y’know…"

"You won’t feel…left out if I go to the party without you?" Riley asked, concerned.

"Not at all," she assured him. "Give me some time to catch up with my friends alone…"

"All right," Riley sighed. There was a brief pause. "You’re not mad at me, are you?"

"Of course not!" Elizabeth insisted. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Well, you’ve been kinda…distant…" he began.

"I’ve just been caught up in classes," she assured him. "Tell you what - next weekend we’ll do something together after I’m done with all my studying."

"Really?" Riley said enthusiastically. "Great!"

"So you’d better plan something nice," Elizabeth laughed. "After all, it’s out first technical ‘date’…"

"You won’t be disappointed," Riley assured her.

"I’m sure I won’t," she agreed with a smile. "So, I’ll see you in class on Monday?"

"Monday," Riley agreed.

"Bye."

"Bye."

"Let me guess," Forrest said sarcastically, arms folded over his chest as he watched Riley put down the receiver, "she’s not coming?"

"She has other plans," Riley replied with a slight frown.

Forrest rolled his eyes. "That’s one hell of a girlfriend you’ve got yourself," he said harshly. "Won’t even bother herself to spend time with you."

"We’re going out next weekend," Riley informed him, his eyes narrowing slightly. "She just wanted to hang out with her friends tonight."

"Yeah, right," Forrest rolled his eyes. "These ‘friends’ wear pants?" he shot back over his shoulder before turning back into his room.

Riley’s brow furrowed further for a second before he shook his head. There was no way. Elizabeth had made her interest in him all too apparent…

* * *

"Well?" Willow demanded as Elizabeth hung up the phone.

"I’m all yours tonight," she joked. But she looked at Spike as she said it, the tiniest hints of a flush brightening her cheeks.

He licked his lips in response. "Glad to hear it, luv," he said with a sly, sexy smile. "’Cause this’ll be one Halloween you’ll never forget…"

The promise in his eyes made her gulp slightly.

"Great!" Willow said with a bright smile. "We’ve got lots of people this year… I don’t suppose anyone’s seen Jonathan?" she asked.

Spike shrugged. "’E’s not in his room."

Willow bit her lower lip. "Oh well," she sighed, "I’m sure that means he’s got plans then…"

"So," Elizabeth tried to look unconcerned as Spike sat down on her bed next to her, "who’s coming then?" Oh my god, gorgeous Spike on my bed! Her mind was going into hyper panicky aroused overdrive.

"Everyone but Jonathan and Devon and Faith," Willow answered from her own mattress. "Pretty good house turn out this year…"

"Only in Westing House would seven people count ‘s good turn out," Spike commented wryly, leaning back on his elbows as he settled back further onto Elizabeth’s mattress.

"What are Devon and Faith doing?" Elizabeth asked, trying not to notice that Spike was now lying on her bed beside her and that the indentation he was making on her mattress was causing gravity to slowly pull her in his direction. She fought the evil universal force with all her might, resisting the urge to fall into him. Two bodies are naturally attracted to each other… The quote from some long-forgotten high-school science lecture popped abruptly into her mind.

"Some band/rave/party thing," Willow shrugged. "My guess is they’ll be crashing all tomorrow…"

" ‘Band/rave/party thing’?" Spike repeated, mildly bemused.

"Like I can tell the difference!" Willow exclaimed, somewhat flustered. The sound of feet on the spiral staircase caught her ear then. "It’s Tara," she said with a little smile. "Be right back!" And with that, she raced out of the room.

Elizabeth blushed slightly when she realized that she and Spike were now alone together in her room, on her bed…

"Can identify ‘er girlfriend by the sound of ‘er feet on the stairs," Spike commented with a little smirk. "Now that’s…intimacy…" The last word was spoken in a breathy whisper.

Elizabeth felt goosebumps rising all over her body in response. "So," she said, desperate to keep things casual while they were alone since she was so sorely tempted, "where are we going tonight?"

"You know I can’t tell you that, kitten," he said with an enigmatic little smile. "Would ruin the surprise."

"Spike has a surprise," she teased lightly. "Should I be panicking right about now? You’re not going to make me listen to your crappy music, are you? ‘Cause it is Halloween, and that’s about the scariest thing I can think of…"

" ‘Crappy music’?!" he repeated in an outraged tone. Not even Elizabeth could quite tell if he was serious or not. "’ll have you know that the punk movement-"

"-Is a) lame, and b) dead," Elizabeth taunted him, leaning a bit closer so he could perfectly see her smug expression.

He scowled up at her. "Oh, you’re askin’ for it, missy," he practically scowled.

"What are you going to do?" she retorted with a satisfied little smile. "You fight like a girl."

"Can kick your ass any day," he shot back out of force of habit.

"You know, Spikey," she teased, "that would be a lot more convincing if I didn’t kick your ass every we-eep!" She squealed in surprise when he abruptly caught hold of her pillow and whapped her in the head with it. "Y-You…jerk!" she exclaimed at the smug smirk on his face. "You girly-fighting jerk!"

"Gotcha, din’t I?" he said, lying back and enjoying the view of Elizabeth Summers, face flushed red with anger, hovering over him.

She promptly grabbed hold of her other pillow and hit him in the head as well. "You are so dead!" she announced, hitting him again.

Things quickly deteriorated from there as they each continued to attack each other, Elizabeth’s squeals and giggles and Spike’s grunts carrying into the hall.

"Hello?!" Anya’s voice suddenly called through the door. "Are you having sex in there? ‘Cause we’d really like to get going!"

They both froze, mortified by Anya’s usual casual bluntness.

The blond promptly opened the door and looked inside. "Oh good," she commented off-handedly, "you’re not naked." She turned back to the outer room. "It’s all right!" she shouted out. "They didn’t get past the foreplay!"

Elizabeth wondered if there was a convenient small, dark corner anywhere where she could curl up to die. Although, given the look of Spike’s face, she’d probably have to fight him for it.

"Anyanka!" Spike managed to gasp out, too horrified to form any other coherent thoughts.

Anya merely gave him a little victorious smile. One that clearly said ‘Nyah-nyah, got you…but I’m too mature to actually say that out loud’. "You can wrestle some more when we get back," she informed Elizabeth with a wry smile. "You should enjoy it. He’s very well hung."

Elizabeth developed a sudden hacking problem which, unfortunately, brought her head forward so that it was right level with the area of Spike’s anatomy in question. If it were possible to die of embarrassment, she was sure she would have done so on the spot. Hell, spontaneous combustion didn’t seem like such a bad idea right about now…

"Anya, quit torturing Elizabeth and Spike!" Willow, the voice of reason, came in to save them. She gave them a goofy little smile and a wink as she pulled Anya away, though.

Elizabeth and Spike practically ran for the door, both eager to save themselves from any further embarrassment.

"See?" Anya said brightly. "My way got them to hurry up faster."

"’as anyone ever told you that you’re a bleedin’ menace, luv?" Spike asked rhetorically.

"You," she crossed her arms in front of herself and scowled at him. "About a thousand times."

"So, yeah," Oz watched the exchange, blinking very slowly as he did so. Elizabeth had long since determined that the rate of his blinking described his mood; this rate indicated mildly impatient. "Let’s go then."

The seven students made their way down the stairway, shoes clamoring like elephants on the old steps. For the safety of her own sanity, Elizabeth moved to walk with the Willow-Tara-Oz group; she could tell that Xander and Anya were both teasing Spike mercilessly in front of them.

"So, where are we going?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

Willow and Tara exchanged a conspiratorial little giggle. Oz’s eyebrow moved a few millimeters.

"It’s a surprise," Willow insisted. "You freshmen don’t get to find out till we get there."

Elizabeth sulked. "That’s what Spike said."

"Wow," Oz said in a complete deadpan, "Spike was right about something."

Tara giggled. "Go easy on him," she teased lightly. "I think Elizabeth’s got, um…feelings…"

"What Elizabeth’s got," Elizabeth corrected with a raised eyebrow, "is a, um…boyfriend."

"Where is Finn tonight anyway?" Oz asked out of morbid curiosity.

"Frat party," she shrugged disinterestedly. A sudden laugh broke out from the group in front of them, and instantly her eyes snapped to Spike.

Willow and Tara exchanged a knowing little glance. Oz blinked twice in quick succession.

Elizabeth didn’t notice, however, because at that moment, Spike and Anya veered off to the left, guiding a still hysterically-laughing Xander along with them. The street they were now going down was dark and twisty, most of the streetlights dulled by the tree branches that obscured them.

"Very Halloweeny," Elizabeth commented just as the trio before them stopped in front of a large, old house. "Wow," Elizabeth gasped slightly; she’d never seen a house that looked more likely to be haunted in all her life.

"They say everyone who lives there goes mad within a year," Spike said in a husky voice, whispering right into her ear with only a trace of his usual innuendo.

"Wh-Who lives there now?" Xander’s voice was slightly shaky as he, too, was apparently affected by the house’s atmosphere.

"No one," Anya said simply, even her normally chipper tones dulling to a quiet whisper as she got into the mood of the holiday.

"Shall we?" Spike extended a hand to Elizabeth with a ghost of his usual smirk on his lips.

That snapped her out of it, and she brushed his hand aside before walking up the old steps. "How exactly are we supposed to get in?" she demanded sarcastically.

Spike rolled his eyes and turned the doorknob. The old wooden door creaked on its rusty hinges as it swung inward. "After you," Spike teased lightly. "That way you can protect me from all the nasties inside," he added with a little wink.

She gave him a fond little smile in response and went in.

"This place is so cool," Willow repeated her sentiments of the previous year as she went inside, too.

"Doesn’t it make you feel like a kid again?" Tara asked. "Back when you would try to scare yourself by staying up late at night and watching horror movies?"

"Too bad we don’t have any now," Xander agreed.

"Au contraire," Oz said with a little smile. He opened his bag and pulled out a familiar white and blue Blockbuster Video bag for everyone to see.

"We have a TV?" Elizabeth asked in surprise.

"And a VCR. And a popcorn popper," Anya agreed, leading the way into the living room. "All the bare necessities."

She flopped down on a couch there, and Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at the absence of dust.

"Actually," Spike admitted with a slightly sheepish smile, "an old friend ‘f my parents owns it, but ‘e’s a visitin’ professor over at Macalester for the next few years, so we kinda watch ‘is house for him."

"Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?" Elizabeth teased, sitting down. She wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when Spike took the seat directly next to her. "A professor’s house is way scarier than a haunted house any day. Why, he could come right in and assign us more midterms!" she gasped in mock-horror.

Spike huffed slightly. "Spoilin’ the mood is what you are, pet," he slouched back into the couch.

"Poor Spikey," she replied lightly, patting his head in a condescending manner. Ooh, SOFT hair… Gotta find out what conditioner he uses to counteract the bleach… She retracted her hand and scowled slightly at the disobedient appendage. Bad hand! Quit providing me with more reasons why Spike’s sexy!

"So," Willow said, pulling the movies out of Oz’s bag as the sound of the popcorn maker sounded in the background, "what are we watching? We’ve got ‘The Shining’ and ‘The Haunting’ and ‘The House on Haunted Hill’."

"Yeah, I’m not detecting any theme here," Anya said sarcastically, digging through the candy Oz had also brought and quickly snatching up as many Kit-Kats as she could find.

"Oi!" Spike complained. "Those’re my favorite!"

Elizabeth watched the two bleached blondes fight over the candy like a couple of kids and couldn’t help from giggling slightly. " ‘The Haunting’ and ‘The House of Haunted Hill’ are already out on video?" she asked surprised.

"The original ones, you silly bint," Spike muttered under his breath as he retrieved his candy.

Elizabeth decided it was time to play dirty. "I like Kit-Kats, too," she informed him softly, batting her eyelashes a couple of times for good measure.

"Chivalry’s dead," he informed her with a little smirk. "Get used to it." He did toss two of them into her lap, however.

"So, votes?" Willow asked.

" ‘The Shining’," Xander shrugged. " ‘The Haunting’ and ‘The House on Haunted Hill’ sucked…or, at least, the new ones did."

Elizabeth nodded. "I’ve never seen ‘The Shining’," she agreed.

Spike slapped himself in the forehead. Before changing his mind and batting her in the forehead. "’aven’t you seen any movies made before 1990?" he demanded.

"I saw ‘The Princess Bride’," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Only after we all made you watch it," Spike retorted.

" ‘The Shining’s a classic," Oz agreed. "Not exactly good, but a classic."

"I wouldn’t feel right if I let you go all the way through college without seeing it," Willow nodded mock-solemnly. "Spike? Anya?"

"I don’t care as long as I don’t have to pay for it," Anya said matter-of-factly. "Being agreeable is likely to encourage people to give me more free food and free movies in the future." She flashed them all a bright smile.

Spike rolled his eyes. "What she said," he agreed, "only less capitalistic."

" ‘The Shining’ it is," Willow agreed with a bright smile as Oz moved to slip the movie into the VCR.

Tara reentered the room with the freshly-popped popcorn then. She set the two bowls down on the table before giving Willow a quick kiss. "Did you manage to subtlety manipulate everyone until they voted for my choice?" she teased lightly.

"Of course," Willow replied, scootching over and making room for Tara on the loveseat beside her.

"We ready then?" Oz snatched up the remote and took the empty seat beside Spike.

"Play," Xander agreed with a mouth full of popcorn.

Despite the occasional scuffle for the candy and the rather frequent quotes of the Simpson’s parody of the movie, Elizabeth found herself getting caught up in falsely-bright, creepy, empty atmosphere of the movie. She lay back and was briefly startled when her head came into contact with Spike’s arm which had been resting on the back of the couch behind her.

He gave her a sheepish little smile and gave her back her headrest.

The room grew silent as the strange shots and eerie setting built up the tension on screen. Elizabeth felt her entire body tense up, just waiting for…

"Aiee!" she screamed, covering her eyes with her hands and burying her face into Spike’s shoulder when the twin creepy little girls suddenly appeared.

Spike, obviously enjoying this turn of events, let his arm slip around her shoulder, holding her against him as the scene progressed.

By the time Danny started reciting ‘Redrum’, she was practically in Spike’s lap…although, in all fairness, she wasn’t exactly paying enough attention to the movie to really be scared. She was far too absorbed in the feel of Spike’s arms around her. In fact, if she wanted to be really honest, she hadn’t really been all that scared the first time she’d shrieked. A little surprised, sure, but horror movies never really got to her all that much. Usually because she was convinced that if she were in the movie, she’d be able to kick the ass of whatever the monster was.

But there was no way she would have passed up this great opportunity to get up close and personal with Spike, without any of the nasty repercussions.

She heard Anya squeal against Xander again and timed her own flinch to coincide with it, breathing in the scent of leather and smoke and musky, male Spike as she did so.

Slight problems occurred when Jack started attacking his wife as she batted at him helplessly with the baseball bat. "Puh-lease!" Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Why on earth is she holding the bat in the middle like that? She’ll never knock him out that way!"

Spike chuckled, the rumbling of his chest sending wonderful vibrations throughout her body. "Check this out," he flinched slightly in anticipation.

Elizabeth watched Jack fall down the stairs. His wife cautiously approached him and… "Oh my god!" she exclaimed in outrage. "There wouldn’t even be any suspense in this scene if that woman had half a brain!" she ranted. "Look at that! All she has to do is give him a little kick right there, and he’ll be unconscious for hours! But, no! She has to be all meek, holding the bat the wrong way, and-"

"Movie?" Willow gently reminded her.

"Oops, sorry!" Elizabeth quickly put her hand over her mouth and buried herself back into Spike’s leather duster, although this time out of embarrassment. She knew it was a lame excuse, but she’d just blown the ‘scared’ one, and it was the best she could do on such short notice.

The humorous comments took over again as Jack Nicolson began to chew the scenery, hamming up the psycho role as much as possible, but everyone still clapped when the movie ended.

"I don’t get it," Anya said with a slight frown. "The preview had blood coming out of the elevator. I wanted to see the blood come out of the elevator, dammit!" She stamped her foot in a stubborn way.

"It happened," Xander insisted.

"Yeah," Anya sulked, "but it didn’t have anything to do with the movie. I could sue." "And, on that note," Willow said with a little chuckle, "let’s head back home."

Elizabeth yawned and was surprised when she checked her watch and found out that it was almost one. Spike yawned in response and rested his head against the top of hers for a brief second before moving to get up.

"Like the movie, Summers?" he asked with a rakish little grin, offering her a hand up.

She brushed it gently aside and stood up under her own powers. "Yeah," she shrugged, "it was all right."

"Definitely ‘ad it’s perks," he teased before following Willow and Tara into the hallway.

"Pig," Elizabeth rolled her eyes at him for the umpteenth time.

The walk back to the dorm was filled with amusing mockery of the movie they’d just watched, and before Elizabeth knew it, they were back in Westing House, waving good-night before they all retreated into their rooms.

"You had fun, right?" Willow asked slightly nervously, crawling into her bed. "It wasn’t too geeky or anything?"

"Way more fun than the Delta Phi frat parties," Elizabeth assured her, burrowing into her own blankets.

"Well, we haven’t gotten to the scariest part yet," Willow added with a wry smile.

"Oh?"

"Tomorrow morning, it’s back to studying for midterms," Willow said before turning off the light.

Elizabeth groaned. "Don’t remind me," she managed to get out through another yawn before her eyelids fluttered shut and her mind drifted off into a wonderful world of chocolate, strawberries, and peroxide blondes…

Chapter 10

"I mean, I’m still kind of in the ‘ooh! Draw pretty plants!’ stage," Elizabeth said with a nervous little laugh, "but I just didn’t feel like using green. I mean, it does kind of get boring after a while…"

The two guys that had also been drawing houseplants with her for the past week cheered in agreement, and Professor Devereux couldn’t help but smile in amusement as well.

"So, anyway," Elizabeth leaned back into the comfy couch in the critiquing room and gestured to the five pieces she’d hung up on the wall for the midterm discussion, "I started playing with color…and then I decided to go with texture and depth, too. And then all these weird perspectives started popping into my head and, well…" She shrugged, still slightly nervous.

"I like the one you did from above," a shy girl in the back of the room commented. "It has a nice…symmetry to it?" Her face flushed a bit red, and she immediately ducked her head.

"Yeah, I fiddled with that one a bit," Elizabeth nodded. "You know that five-sided Celtic knot painting that’s on the second floor right outside the bathroom? Well, I kinda tried to do that…but with a plant."

"It’s cool," the jock-guy who’d also gotten kicked out of Steinberg’s class commented.

"So, yeah," Elizabeth said. "That’s it."

She was greeted with brief applause, and she moved to take her pieces down.

"That’s everyone then," Professor Devereux said. "We don’t have anything else for this class, so feel free to take a freebie on this next hour… And don’t be too enthusiastic now," she teased lightly when everyone ran for the door simultaneously.

She got a couple of sheepish grins before the class vanished. Fortunately, the one student she wanted to talk to was still busy taking down her work. "Elizabeth," she began with a little smile.

Elizabeth gulped. "Yeah?" she winced inwardly.

"Your work is…truly unique, for lack of a better word," Devereux said, taking in the painting Elizabeth was taking down at the moment.

"Yeah, I kinda got a little bored and wandered from the assignments, but I swear it won’t happen again, and-" Elizabeth was quickly entering a panic attack fit to rival any of Willow’s.

"I like it," Devereux hastily corrected her. "Actually," she said, leaning in conspiratorially, "you’re one of the most promising students I’ve had in years."

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Me?" she repeated incredulously.

"You have such an original way of looking at things," Devereux nodded, "of exploring new possibilities…and even when they don’t turn out right, you still seem to learn from them and work them into your later pieces."

"I just draw whatever I feel like," Elizabeth insisted.

"And that’s art," Devereux said with a catlike little smile. "Anyway, I was wondering if you would be interested in starting your own project? Like you said, you’ve been wandering from the assignments more and more, and…well, if there’s something you would like to do…"

Elizabeth looked down to the floor and bit her lip. "Well, I kind of had this idea for a painting…a landscape thing but also, y’know, something about my life? But, I mean, it’s not really…"

"Maybe it won’t be good," Devereux conceded, "but maybe it will. Why don’t you just try it? See where it takes you…"

"Yeah, I guess so," Elizabeth shrugged, a little excited about the prospect. "I mean, if you think it’s a good idea…"

"I do," Devereux insisted confidently.

"Great, then," Elizabeth managed a little smile. "So, I’ll see you Monday then?"

"You’ll probably be the only student on time," Devereux agreed with a grin.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at this as well. "Bye, then!" she said before dashing off down the hall, a little skip in her step.

Professor Devereux shook her head and jotted a few more notes down in her grade book. Paradoxically, it was the students with the most talent that always seemed the most uncertain of their abilities. But she had a feeling that if she just kept encouraging Elizabeth, that young woman could do great things…

* * *

"Hey, Jonathan!" Elizabeth said perkily as she caught their elusive housemate right as he was leaving his room.

"H-Hi," he said back nervously before practically fleeing down the stairs.

Elizabeth shrugged. She frowned slightly when she popped her head in Spike, Anya, and Xander’s open doors in quick succession and found that all three rooms were vacant. Surprisingly, however, the door to the house lounge was closed. She raised an eyebrow at that before she slowly opened the door and…

"What. The. Hell?!" Those were the only words Elizabeth could come up with to describe the scene before her.

Spike and Xander were in the center of the room, stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers each - yellow smiley-faced and pink hearted boxers, respectively. Spike was kneeling down on the floor right in front of Xander, and Elizabeth sudden felt irrationally jealous of the dark-haired man.

"Did you two come out of the closet and me not hear about it?" Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh, giggling slightly at the sight before her.

Spike rolled his eyes and rose to his feet.

"Hey!" Xander exclaimed. "I’m not gay! I only agreed to this under the provision that everyone realized that I’m not gay!"

Elizabeth abruptly realized that the spectacle of the two, nearly-naked young men had monopolized her attention and that they were far from the only ones present.

"Xander’s not gay," Devon provided from where he was holding a small video camera and leaning back against the TV stand.

Next to him, Oz - in a similar state of undress as Xander and Spike - nodded.

Anya, who was wearing an illegally short miniskirt, high-heeled shoes, and a bra, rolled her eyes. "Can we hurry it up already?" she complained. "I want to be the sandwich meat already!"

"Huh?" Elizabeth blinked several times. "OK," she shook her head, completely baffled, "what the hell is going on here?"

"It’s a movie for Devon’s media studies class," Willow hastily explained.

Elizabeth turned to her and couldn’t do anything but stare stunned at the fact that both Willow and Tara were wearing skimpy little nightgowns and cuddling up on the couch together.

"Of what?" Elizabeth couldn’t stop the sarcasm from seeping in. "A bordello?"

Devon rolled his eyes heavenwards. "It’s a discussion of heterosexual stereotypes of homosexual relationships," he explained patiently.

"Uh-huh," Elizabeth didn’t sound convinced.

"It’s actually really funny," Tara giggled slightly. "See, me and Tara and Spike and Xander get to be the gay couples-"

"Falsely gay couples," Xander corrected.

"-Falsely gay couples," Tara amended.

"Gay couples," Willow corrected, giving Tara a cheeky grin.

Tara mock-pouted. "Now you’re just being difficult on purpose," she accused, swatting at Willow’s shoulder playfully.

"So, Xander’s gay," Elizabeth couldn’t help but tease. "And?"

"I’m not-!" Xander began before throwing his hands up in the air.

"Acceptance is the first step to coming out of the closet," Spike said mock-solemnly, patting the other man’s shoulder.

"Oh, you are so dead!" Xander announced before tackling Spike to the ground. Elizabeth watched the two wrestle around on the ground, bemusedly.

"See?" Anya said with an evil little smile. "You can’t fake like kind of UST…"

Xander flopped down onto his back in surrender. "Everyone’s going to think I’m gay for all eternity for this, aren’t they?" he said with a resigned sigh.

"You could always, um, make some manly grunting sounds and guzzle a whole case of beer w-while screaming out ‘Delta Phi rocks!’," Tara’s speech stuttered progressively more as she tried not to laugh as she said it.

"Delta Phi sucks," Spike announced, sitting up from where he’d ended after his and Xander’s little play tussle. "And prob’ly not well, either," he added with a little smirk.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle at that. "So what?" she asked curiously, hopping up to sit on the TV stand beside Devon. "They just make out?"

"At first," Devon was chuckling slightly, "but then Oz jumps in the middle of Willow and Tara and Anya jumps in the middle of Spike and Xander, and it turns into a goofy orgy."

"I helped write the dialogue," Anya added proudly.

"Anyanka’s got a secret callin’," Spike agreed, flopping back down on the carpet again. "Humorous porn…’s a whole new genre…"

Anya stuck her tongue out at him. "You’ll be crawling all over me in a few minutes," she retorted.

"Yeah," Spike said sarcastically, "for a movie."

"And Spike’s a movie whore!" Anya announced perkily.

"So, yeah," Devon looked mildly annoyed, "can we start again now?"

"I get to watch, right?" Elizabeth said with a little smile, intentionally raking her eyes up and down Spike’s body and loving the way it made him squirm.

"Sure, just try not to laugh too hard," Devon spared her a little smile. "OK, places, people!" He turned back to the ‘set’ before them.

Xander rose to his feet, and Spike kneeled before him once more so that, to the camera angle, it looked like he was doing something very naughty.

"Action!" Devon announced.

Elizabeth was quickly biting her hand, trying not to giggle at the ridiculous lines Anya had concocted for them. "Only another cunt can satisfy me!" and "Xander, fill me with your throbbing man-meat!" were the only ones that had her in serious danger of cracking up, though - like, she was convinced she was about to split her side, cracking up.

The plot fizzled out abruptly after that when no one had any idea what to do, and they all shrugged at the camera in unison before Devon stopped the video.

"The ‘not being able to come up with any more lines’ part was intentional, right?" Elizabeth was still giggling.

"Straight people usually don’t bother to think much beyond the ‘jumping into the sandwich’ part," Devon agreed, laughing slightly himself.

"Are you sure you’re actually getting credit for this?" she demanded. "Or is this just blackmail for later?"

"It’s an actual class," Devon insisted. "This is my midterm."

"Lucky bastard…" Elizabeth grumbled under her breath. Why couldn’t ogling half-naked Spike be part of one of her midterms?

"That it then?" Oz asked, extricating himself from between the giggling Willow and Tara.

Devon watched the replay of the tape. "Looks good," he agreed.

"Are you sure?" Anya sounded disappointed. "Because I’d be happy to grab Spike’s ass again…"

Elizabeth bit her lip. No, that was absolutely not another little twang of jealousy…

Spike rubbed the firm posterior in question. "Can I vote against that one?" he requested. "’Cause Anyanka’s a bit more voracious than-"

"You can handle?" Elizabeth suggested, one eyebrow raised.

"Spike can’t take it rough!" Anya squealed in delight when she came up with yet another way to torture Spike.

"Oi, now!" he complained. "Dated Dru, din’t I?"

Anya’s face fell slightly. "Oh yeah," she conceded. "But you could easily have gone soft since then!" she perked right back up.

"Thanks a lot, luv," he cast a mock-annoyed look Elizabeth’s way, "now ‘ll have to hear about this for the next three months…"

She flashed him a bright, unrepentant smile. "If you ever need anyone to assist with the Spike torture…" she offered to Anya.

Spike groaned and knew he was beat.

"So, Elizabeth," Tara settled into a more comfortable position on the couch, "midterms are done?"

Elizabeth let out an exhausted sigh and collapsed on the free couch. "Thank god!" she exclaimed. "I don’t think I’ve slept in…ever…"

"Wait till finals," Anya commented matter-of-factly. "They’re even worse." She bounced into the available seat beside Elizabeth.

"I’m not even close to done yet," Devon complained, removing the tape from his camera and putting it in its case. "I’ve got a paper due Monday, and then I have to present this video on Tuesday…" He groaned and shook his head.

Elizabeth smiled up at him sympathetically. She’d rarely seen him this not-under-the-influence, and it was actually kind of interesting…

"I still say it would’ve been better if you could’ve gotten Faith to fight with me over the men," Anya commented.

Devon seemed almost to flinch, and Elizabeth’s brow furrowed for a second, trying to decipher the reaction.

"Faith’s a bit wasted right now," he shrugged it off, intentionally turning to his bag and routing around in it.

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed. "I mean, she missed the bio midterm and everything…"

Elizabeth noticed that Willow and Tara exchanged a frown at that as well, but shook it off quickly. After all, it really wasn’t her business…

"Her loss," Xander joked, sitting down next to Willow. "Ah, sharing a couch with two lesbians… What guy hasn’t dreamed of that?"

"Humph." Anya crossed her arms over her chest in mock-offense. "A real man would’ve sat with the straight women…"

"Don’ mind ‘f I do," Spike said with a cheeky grin, landing between Anya and Elizabeth and slinging one arm over each of their shoulders. "Mmm…’s nice, mate," he teased Xander. "Shoulda taken the opportunity while you ‘ad it."

Elizabeth’s skin tingled where his arm was wrapped around her, and she had to fight the instinct to close her eyes and breathe in his heady scent when he squeezed her lightly to him.

Fortunately, the confusion that had previously accompanied all their physical contact was gone. She’d decided after their little Halloween party that Spike was one of those guys that was a good friend and you flirted with all the time, but would never get involved with. Because…

Well, because she already had a boyfriend… Who you’ve been avoiding for almost two weeks! And she and Spike could never work out… Because you won’t just DUMP Riley already! And…yeah.

OK, so maybe the confusion needed to be worked through just a little bit more… Like the whole conflict of having a flirty-guy-friend and a boyfriend at the same time, since you kind of didn’t need the first if you had the second.

Maybe if you were halfway attracted to Riley in the first place, it wouldn’t be a problem! The little voice at the back of her mind had been getting persistently louder lately, and it was starting to drive her crazy.

"We love you, Xander!" Tara giggled, moving to the other side of him and giving him a quick hug.

Elizabeth snapped her attention back to the conversation at hand at the absolutely hysterical goofy grin Xander had on his face as Willow hugged him, too.

"Don’t we, Willow?" Tara prodded.

"Of course," Willow agreed. "We love you…we just don’t love your penis…"

Everyone cracked up at that. "That’s a house quote," Oz announced, pulling the little notebook out of his bag that he used to write down the more hilarious things that were said.

"Anya an’ ‘Lizabeth love my penis, too," Spike countered. "Innit that right?"

"The shorts kinda detract from its appeal," she pointed out, gesturing to the yellow smiley faces that covered his boxers.

"They were a joke gift," Spike huffed lightly. "Don’ wear ‘em normally." He leaned in close and whispered huskily into her ear. "Don’ normally wear anythin’…"

Elizabeth blushed horribly and used her full willpower not to look at that region of his anatomy.

Anya gave his hair a playful little tousle, however. "I love your penis," she agreed, "as long as it’s in someone else."

Everyone in the room blinked.

"I’m not sure if that’s a quote…" Oz began uncertainly.

"Oh, c’mon," Elizabeth said with a little giggle. "It’s about ten times more outrageous than the things she normally says."

Anya gave Elizabeth a grateful smile for that comment. "It thought it was quite a gem myself," she agreed.

"Anya manages to stun the room silent," Devon commented with wry amusement, "a room that’s used to her usual sayings… I’d say it’s definitely a quote."

Oz penned it in with a nod of agreement.

"So," Elizabeth reluctantly returned to Spike, not quite sure she could face him without complete and utter embarrassment after what had just occurred, but trying anyway, "any chance I could borrow your body this afternoon?" she teased lightly.

Spike let out a little growl and sidled up closer to her. "All my…parts ‘re at your disposal whenever you need them, luv," he replied, an amused sparkle in his eyes.

"Good," she agreed, "because I need to beat you up early today since I have to leave practice early. Is three good for you?"

"My parts an’ I ‘ll be waitin’ in my room eagerly," Spike retorted.

Her face flushed slightly. "I’ll pick you up on my way over to the gym then," she agreed, getting up and lugging her bag up onto her shoulder.

"It’s a date," he agreed with a cocky grin.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes but decided it wasn’t worth the effort to argue the point. Giving everybody a quick wave good-bye, she retreated into her room to crash from the Midterm Week From Hell.

"Do you want a pillow for your lap?" Anya asked off-handedly after Elizabeth was out of earshot.

Spike’s face flushed a deep red, but he snatched the offered pillow from Anya’s hands anyway. "Where’re my jeans?" he demanded gruffly. "Gotta get outta these poofy boxers…"

* * *

"Score!" the cry shouted out throughout the room.

Elizabeth fought the urge to yawn.

"Oh, oh! Turnover!" Riley cried out excitedly. "He’s got it…he’s got it… Yeah!" Cheers broke out once again.

Now, her evening with Riley had started out nicely enough. He’d taken her out to this nice little restaurant, and he’d pulled out her chair for her and ordered her food for her and paid the bill for her…although, in all fairness, she couldn’t quite decide whether those things were archaic and insulting or chivalrous and sweet. Given that she didn’t have to use up any of her spending money, however, she decided on the later. Feminism definitely allowed for the strategic advantage of acquiring free food…

The conversation had been all right. They’d bitched about midterms, and Elizabeth had explained her art project to Riley…who obviously didn’t get it. But, then, she didn’t really get his war stories or his basketball stories, so it kind of evened out in the end.

Unfortunately, once they’d gotten back to the frat, the first basketball game of the season had been on TV and, yeah, the evening had gone downhill from there…

"Great game, huh?" Riley said brightly, flashing her a wide smile and offering her a sip of his beer.

She politely declined. However, for once the memories didn’t assault her. Different memories were replaying in her mind at the moment…

"God, you are SUCH a baby!" Elizabeth teased, watching Spike lie on his back on the mat, faking unconsciousness.

"’m not a baby," he retorted, opening one eye to look at her. "You jus’ killed me is all…" He let his tongue hang over the side of his mouth, made some fake gagging sounds, and clutched at his heart.

"Big faker," she accused lightly, poking him in the side with her toe…

"Yeah!"

The room erupted into applause again, shaking Elizabeth’s thoughts back to the present. She shook her head vehemently, trying to force all thoughts of Spike and their little sparring match earlier that evening from her mind.

"So," Riley commented when a commercial created a break in the game, "are we on for next weekend too, then?"

Elizabeth gave him an apologetic little grimace. "Regionals is that weekend," she explained.

Riley’s face fell. "Do you have to go?" he asked, disappointed.

"I’m part of the school team," she insisted. "Gotta go."

"But that’s only one day, right?" he said cheerful again. "We could go out on Friday."

"Only one day," she agreed. "In Boston. I’ll be on a bus all Friday evening…and all Sunday, too."

Riley sighed. "Oh well… Weekend after that?"

"Sure," she agreed brightly. But then the game was back on, and Riley turned back to it, and there was nothing left to distract her from…

"Ha!" Spike exclaimed in delight when he caught her ankle and sent her tumbling down onto the mats beside him. "Gotcha!" he announced in triumph.

"You just signed your own death warrant, Spikey," she said with a playful little smile before tackling him.

He laughed and twisted right as she landed. She let out a little squeal as she rolled onto her back and…

"Great game, huh?" Riley nudged her elbow.

"Uh-huh," she nodded numbly, her mind elsewhere.

In an instant, Spike was on top of her, pinning her firmly down onto the mat. For a second, it was just their usual play struggle until they both simultaneously realized just how close they actually were. Their eyes widened as they realized that their bodies were pressed tight together, their lips mere inches apart, and, oh, did it feel GOOD…

"We play Penn State in two weeks," Riley continued to give her a running commentary. "They’ve actually got a decent defense this year. But, don’t worry," he gave her a little smile and a condescending pat of the knee, "we’re ready for them."

"Uh-huh," Elizabeth repeated, still not paying attention.

"’Lizabeth?" Spike’s voice sounded husky with need.

"S-Spike…" She found her lips were suddenly dry and unconsciously licked them.

Spike groaned in response, watching the pink tip of her tongue teasing her sweet lips. He moved in closer, his lips just a hairsbreadth above hers now…

"Oh yeah!" Riley shouted out, pumping his arm in the air in a way that he thought would make him look cool but really just looked incredibly lame. She turned back to Elizabeth. "I’m hoping we’ll make the playoffs this year. We’ve got a great team."

"Uh-huh."

Her eyelids fluttered shut at the feel of his warm breath. Instinctively, she parted her lips. She was so desperate to fill her desire for him that nothing else mattered at the moment…

Spike sighed. This was like all his dreams come true - Elizabeth finally beneath him, wanting him… He leaned in to kiss her, a million thoughts in his head, and…

"You look tired," Riley commented. "Maybe that nap didn’t refresh you as much as you thought it did."

Elizabeth nodded blankly in response. "Uh-huh."

Her eyes opened again when she felt him pull away, her entire being screaming ‘NO!’ with all its might…

"Spike?" she asked confusedly, sitting up.

He refused to look at her, standing up instead. "You ‘ave a boyfriend," he said simply enough before walking out. He paused at the door, however. "You ever decide to break it off with Major Bringdown," he said, the slight humor belying his serious tone, "you know where I live…"

And then he was gone.

And Elizabeth was half-tempted to scream that she’d dump him now…

Hence, the major, major guilt. "No, I’m fine!" she insisted with a brightness so false that every Riley saw through it.

"You’re tired," he insisted. "Want me to give you a ride home?"

She gave in with a weary sigh. "Yeah," she finally agreed.

The drive back to Westing House was made in complete silence. She supposed she was overplaying the tiredness excuse, and that made her feel even more guilty.

"We’re here," Riley said softly. Perhaps even he was realizing that something momentous was about to happen.

Elizabeth turned to look at him…and saw a good guy. The kind of guy she’d always wanted. Only she didn’t want him now… Yes, you do! The last remnants of the girl that had been Buffy snapped at her. He’s absolutely PERFECT! How can you possibly let him get away?!

She gulped and made her decision. "I had a great time," she said with a happy smile before leaning in to give him a quick kiss. "We’ll do something after Regionals, OK?"

"OK," Riley agreed with a smile of his own. "See you later."

"Later!" Elizabeth agreed with a wave as she dashed over into the dorm to escape the chill autumn air.

And, as she walked past Spike’s door, she couldn’t even bring herself to look in his direction. The pain of her conflicting emotions was too great…

* * *

Riley sat in his car and frowned for a long time. He hadn’t believed Forrest and the other guys at first, but the more he was around her…

There was something up with her, something she wasn’t telling him.

Riley’s car jerked back to life with an angry start before vanishing back into the night…


Chapter 11

Elizabeth groaned as the shrill beeping filled her small dorm room. Or, at least, she would’ve groaned if she were conscious enough to do so.

Willow was more used to waking up early and managed to do so, however. "Turn that damn thing off!" she complained, pulling her pillow up around her ears.

Elizabeth’s arm swatted wildly at the offending alarm clock several times before she finally managed to make contact with it. Blessed silence once again surrounded them when Elizabeth successfully located the off-switch.

"And you think chemistry meets at an ungodly hour," Willow grumbled under her breath before rolling over and falling back to sleep.

Elizabeth seriously considered murdering her friend in a fit of jealous rage at that moment. No one ever should have to wake up to an alarm at five o’clock in the morning…

Still in complete zombie mode, Elizabeth managed to pull on her bathrobe and stagger out into the hallway. She instinctively headed towards the bathroom until she remembered she had another destination, and, groaning, she made her way down the hallway to room number three-twelve.

Her first knock was probably inaudible because she let out a massive yawn just as her knuckles hit the wooden door. However, the second, third, fourth, and fifth were all plenty loud, yet she still got no response.

Elizabeth sighed and tried the knob; it was unlocked.

"Spike?" she whispered sleepily, poking her head in.

The heaping pile of blankets in the middle of the bed didn’t move.

"Spike?" she repeated, a bit annoyed, closing the door behind her so that any noise they made wouldn’t disturb anyone else on the floor. For a second, the giddy, half-asleep notion that he’d just piled up his blankets to make it look like he was in bed crossed her mind, but then she spotted a shock of peroxide white hair sticking out of the blankets.

She walked over to the bed. "Spike!" she repeated. Still nothing.

She reached over, found his shoulder, and shook it lightly. "Spike!"

"Mmm, ‘s ‘n mmm, mmm…"

Well, at least that was something.

"Spike, wake up!" she yawned. "Now!" She gave his shoulder a hard poke.

"Jus’ five more minutes," he grumbled under his breath, burrowing his head into the pillow.

Elizabeth sighed. It was way too early in the morning for this. "Didn’t you even set your alarm…?" she began. However, she then noticed that it had been flung all the way across the room, its cord jerked roughly from the wall outlet; that indicated all too clearly that it had gone off.

"Spike!" she caught his pillow and yanked it out from under his head.

"Huh? What?" he blinked up at her, confused, sleepy, and startled.

"We have to be on the bus in less than half an hour," she informed him, fighting back another yawn.

"Summers?" he seemed to finally register who she was. He sat up slowly, stretching and yawning like a giant cat as he did so, one hand scratching through his disheveled platinum hair. "Bus?"

"Regionals?" she reminded him.

He blinked at her through drooping eyelids a couple of times. "Oh, right…" he finally remembered, moving to get up. Fortunately, he’d had the foresight the night before to dress before he went to bed.

"You up then?" Elizabeth yawned again.

He managed a weak nod.

"Good," she agreed, "I’ll be back here just as soon as I’m done in the bathroom…"

* * *

Elizabeth awoke, two hours later, feeling like she’d been run over by a trunk. Her neck was all cramped up from the way she’d been lying against the metal window frame, and she was convinced that her knees were going to be permanently stuck bent in the awkward position they’d managed to acquire while she slept.

She began a rather futile attempt at stretching. Even though the bus had those nice, big cushioned seats with the high backs, it was still too cramped for her usual routine. Maybe the aisle…

She sat up to face an irritating, cocky smirk.

"Nice nap, luv?" Spike asked lightly.

"I think my head got twisted on backwards, somehow," she complained, rubbing the sore muscles. "And weren’t you sitting up front?"

He shrugged and leaned back in the double seat across the aisle from her. "Kendra fell asleep," he said simply.

"And I’m better company while I’m unconscious than she is?" Elizabeth retorted a bit more snidely than she’d intended.

The truth was that the level of camaraderie between them had dipped off ever since her rejection of him, and she really didn’t know what to do to get it back. Hell, she wasn’t even sure it was possible. Trying desperately to ignore the gorgeous, clever, sexy young man across from her who she had chosen not to be her boyfriend, she stood up and did a few basic stretches in the aisle.

"Ooh, I like that, pet," Spike teased, seemingly back to the simple friendly banter that had proceeded their almost-kiss in the dojo. Elizabeth envied him his apparent nonchalance. "Very flexible…"

"Let me guess," she tried teasing him back, "you’re one of those guys that joins fitness clubs just to watch the aerobics classes?" She easily reached down to touch her toes, lolling her head around on her neck as she did so.

"Tried it," he commented with a bemused grin, "but decided it was cheaper jus’ to watch you."

She cast him an annoyed scowl over her shoulder before assessing the space she had behind her. It should be just enough… She completed the simple back walkover without incident. There were times when being short had its definite advantages.

"Not to mention you bend in all sorts ‘f…delicious ways…" Spike licked his lips seductively.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and plopped back down in her seat, resigning herself to the fact that she was probably going to have to put up with him for the entire rest of the trip. "Where are we?" she asked, kneading that one muscle in her neck that persisted in tensing up.

"Middle ‘f nowhere, New York," Spike shrugged.

"We’re still in New York?" she complained. "I thought things on the East Coast were supposed to be close together or something…"

"Jus’ gives you plenty of time to do your homework for the weekend," he informed her, watching with one eyebrow raised as she pulled her lab notebook from her bag and flipped it open in a vain effort to ignore him.

She instantly discovered that studiously doing her pre-lab calculations provided a nice distraction from the seductive form slumped over the seat across the aisle. In fact, she got so absorbed in them that she didn’t even notice he’d moved until her entire seat shook from where he’d just landed in the seat between her and the window.

She blinked up at him in disbelief and got a shit-eating grin in response. "Tell me you didn’t just jump over the seat back," she said, the beginnings of a headache forming.

"Fine then, I won’t," he said with a cheeky smile. "You know," he noticed her furrowed brow, "all those exercises seem not to ‘ave gotten all the tension out." He slung one arm over the back of her seat and gave her a seductive grin, his tongue curling up beneath his teeth in an enticing manner. "’d be happy to ‘elp you get all the kinks out, luv…"

She groaned. "God, where do you get this stuff?" she demanded. "Innuendoes.com?"

"I need the right…inspiration first," he informed her with a little grin, leaning in close. "Bein’ around you…" he whispered against her ear, "how can I think ‘f anythin’ else?"

She let out the breath she’d unconsciously been holding, and it felt as though her body temperature had risen a good ten degrees. "I have homework," she protested weakly, gesturing to the lab manual in her lap. That finally snapped her out of it.

"I need to get this done," she insisted. "I can’t have you…distracting me all the time!" Her hands flew in the hair in an annoyed little gesture. "Now, go back to your seat."

"Can’t make me," he retorted childishly.

She groaned and put one hand to her aching temple. "I’m serious, Spike," she informed him. "I really want to get this done."

"Right then," he nodded, leaning back in his seat.

"Spike…" she began.

"What?" he countered. "Can’t work with me here?"

"Not when you’re staring at me like that, no!"

"Fine then," he said in a sulky tone. Elizabeth breathed a little sigh of relief when he stood up, but he only reached over the seat in front of them to grab his laptop from his bag. He gave her a triumphant look as he sat back down. "I ‘ope my doin’ my homework won’ distract you, luv," he teased lightly.

Elizabeth merely rolled her eyes and turned back to her calculations. Spike shrugged and began half-heartedly typing his way through his English paper. A half-hour passed, maybe two, before Elizabeth finally let out a little exclamation of delight and slammed her lab manual shut.

"Done?" Spike instantly turned away from his paper.

"Pre-labs are a bitch," she agreed, feeling euphoric enough over having finished the task that she was no longer mad at him.

"I generally avoid ‘em whenever possible," he agreed, tossing his laptop back over the seat in front of them. There was an exclamation of surprise and pain from the seat where someone had obviously settled down in the meantime, and Spike immediately winced in sympathy. "Sorry, mate!" he apologized quickly.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle slightly, but as she brought her hand up to cover her mirth, her shoulder muscle clenched up again. With a grimace, she began kneading it again, only to find what felt like there was a rock in her shoulder. She was so absorbed in her predicament that she didn’t even notice him move until…

She practically moaned aloud when his hand caught the one she was using to massage her shoulder, shoving it aside and using his own strong fingers to work out the knots.

"That feel better?" he asked softly.

She closed her eyes and winced when his thumb pressed down right over the center of the knot. "Right there!" she gasped out a little breathlessly, feeling her shoulder loosen under his talented touch.

He pressed down on the knot as hard as he could, but the angle made things awkward. "Hey, Summers," he said after a minute. "’ll make you a deal."

"Mmm?" His hands had her in such a state of bliss right now that she probably would’ve agreed to anything he said.

"You turn around, an’ ‘ll give your back the whole works," he offered.

She gave him an appreciative smile and a little blush - yes, somewhere way in the back of her mind she did know that she shouldn’t be letting other guys give her backrubs while her boyfriend was away - before she turned to sit sideways on their seat, her back to him.

He moved up onto his knees, straddling her cute little rear, and worked his fingers deep into her shoulder muscles.

"Mmm…" Her body was slowly turning to jelly at his massage. He tilted her head forward to start at the base of her skull before working his thumbs slowly down the curve of her spine. Her tight, stained muscles gave way to his warm, wonderful fingers, loosening up one by one until gradually she began to slump back against him.

She felt his warm, strong chest at her back, and she felt him moving behind her, settling himself back up against the window now. She was lying back on his body now, using him as pillow and mattress as the many hours of sleep she’d been deprived of last night finally caught up with her. The last thing she was aware of before she drifted off was a warm blanket of leather being wrapped around the two of them, holding them snuggly together before sweet sleep overcame them…

* * *

"Miss me, Summers?"

Elizabeth was greeted by the sight of Spike’s cheeky grin looking up at her from her bed the instant she entered her hotel room.

"Yeah," she retorted sarcastically, "given that’s it’s been all of five minutes since I last saw you…"

Actually, he’d been rather entertaining - if dangerously tempting - company the entire bus ride as well as during her explorations of the hotel and the team dinner they’d just gotten back from… Maybe he’d gotten the notion in his head that lavishing her with attention would sway her decision or something. In which case, it so wasn’t working…

Yeah, right, her mind retorted sarcastically.

He gave her a lazy smile and rested his head back against his bent elbows, perfectly stretching his body across her entire mattress. "I figured absence makes the ‘eart grow fonder," he teased. He looked away from her when he said it, though.

She let out a deep sigh. "Is there any particular reason you’re in my bed, Spike?" she demanded. She really didn’t want to have to deal with broken feelings, but if he kept this up… Riley didn’t fight half as hard for you, that annoying voice reminded her. He just expected you to fall right in his lap.

He shrugged. "’S right cozy," he responded. "Figured we could snuggle up all cozy-like…jus’ like on the bus…"

She felt the heat rise in her at that. She’d woken up to find herself completely wrapped around him, her head tucked gently into the curve of his throat… And the scariest thing was that she’d never woken up feeling more safe and contented than she ever had in all her life…

"I think Kendra might object to being forced to sleep on the floor," she retorted.

"We’ll make it a threesome then," he agreed with a bemused chuckle. "Don’ wanna make Kendra feel left out…"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes but kept to his little game. "I think that might make it hard for Elena and Lisa to sleep," she pointed out.

Spike let out a defeated sigh. "’ll be too knackered to compete tomorrow but…a fivesome it is."

She couldn’t help but let out an amused giggle as she sat down on the corner of the bed. "Seriously," she insisted, "get out of my bed…"

"But I thought we could ‘ave a li’l slumber party," he teased. "Y’know, talk ‘bout boys, paint our nails…" He removed a small bottle from his duster pocket at this and tossed it onto the mattress in front her.

She picked it up and raised an eyebrow. "Nail polish remover?" she read in disbelief.

"Gotcha," Spike said with a broad grin, sitting up. "This ‘s official team business. An’ as official team cap’n ‘m here to inform you that tournament rules don’ allow nail polish."

"You’re kidding?" she looked at him, surprised.

He rolled his eyes. "Don’ allow piercin’s, either. ‘Ad to remove the bolt from my eyebrow last year an’ ‘ave it redone later."

"And maybe ripping it from your face wasn’t the best way to remove it," she teased, flicking his scarred brow lightly. An amusing notion struck her then. "That means you have to ditch the black then, huh?" she asked innocently.

Spike grumbled at picked at his black nail polish lovingly. "’ll do you, if you do me, luv," he responded cheekily enough…and with enough of an undercurrent that it reminded her of certain naughty lines she’d heard from certain videos that she shouldn’t have been watching in the first place…

She blushed.

"Gettin’ all hot an’ bothered at jus’ the idea ‘f ruinin’ my look, aren’cha?" Spike brought the teasing back to the world of the non-sexual just like that.

"Been waiting forever to do this," she agreed with a wicked little smile. "Give me your hands."

He scootched closer to her and watched her studiously remove all of his beloved black until his nails looked clean once more.

"You know," she commented, wiping his nails dry with the paper towels he’d ‘acquired’ from the hotel storage closet, "you could’ve just told them you had, like, leprosy or gangrene, and they never would’ve known the difference." She gave him a falsely sweet smile.

"Bleedin’ bitch," he grumbled good-naturedly.

She pouted. "Or maybe syphilis…"

He froze at that for a second, eyes wide, before a deep scowl crossed his face. "Don’ ‘ave syphilis," he said gruffly, attending to her hands with none of the playfulness of earlier.

Elizabeth frowned slightly, not quite sure what it was that she’d said…

"’ll go find Lisa now," he said, his voice tense. "See ya tomorrow, Summers." And, with that, he was gone.

Elizabeth just sat there, brows furrowed, staring at the empty spot on the bed he’d vacated. But, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fathom what she possibly could’ve said that would upset him so…

* * *

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she watched Spike fall to the mat. He had to be the most infuriating fighter to watch that she’d ever seen. He was good, yeah, but he would do the stupidest shit sometimes…usually after nothing had happened for a while and he got bored.

The timer went off, indicating that it was the first break of this round. With an annoyed little sigh, she noticed that Wesley was busy trying to coach Kendra into the top eight. That left her…

"His defenses are weak on the left side," she informed Spike, handing him his water bottle. "He’s trying to lean that way because you’re a lefty but…"

"Well?" he inquired curiously after she hadn’t said anything in a while.

"You figure it out," she informed him with a sly smile. "After all, it’s your match."

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his opponent, studying him intently. The guy was much larger than he was and had the whole black-guy-with-head-shaved-don’t-mess-with-me look about him. "Weak on the left side?" he repeated softly. "Thought I would’ve noticed that…"

"You would if you were a righty," Elizabeth hinted.

He gave her a sly little smile. "Thanks for the tip, luv," he agreed before returning to the bout.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile as well. He’d been cool to her all this morning, still angry about whatever infraction she’d committed. It was nice to see that his anger towards her didn’t last…

She watched him fight with what she knew must appear to be the love-struck eyes of a teenager upon her first crush. Not that any of these people knew the first thing about the two of them, though.

A little "yes!" of satisfaction passed her lips when he finally saw the move she’d just been itching to pull on his opponent - three consecutive right attacks before switching swiftly back to the left side, too quickly for the other man to compensate.

An excited little cheer went through the College of New York students that stood around to watch the fight. The opponent’s team picked up their cries of "You can do it, Gunn!" just as loudly.

Spike had his opponent’s weakness down now, though. And several points later, he finally emerged victorious.

"Well fought, ‘luv’," Elizabeth teased lightly when he finally came back over to join their school ranks.

"Top eight," Spike agreed with some surprise. "Kendra make it?" he asked hopefully.

Elizabeth shook her head regretfully. "It was a really close match, though. So she’ll probably place tenth since there weren’t any major upsets."

"So," Spike said with a sly little smile, "you gonna coach me into the top four, too?"

"I’ll do you, if you’ll do me," Elizabeth couldn’t help but flirt back, a wave of relief passing through her as the quips and teasing easily returned.

* * *

Although, in all fairness, neither really needed the other there - at least, not from the fighting standpoint.

Spike’s opponent had been this huge guy named Adam, and it had been obvious from the get-go that the smaller man had no chance in hell. He’d just shrugged it off, though, and cheered Elizabeth on with the best of them.

She hadn’t needed the coaching, either. Because, frankly, it was a brutal slaughter. And her opponent’s irritating Goth friends constantly cheering "Today is Sunday’s day!" just made her all the more pissed off and ready to kiss ass.

She’d giggled slightly when Spike whispered in her ear after the bout that someone should’ve informed them that it was Saturday.

The competition in the top tier was tough, though. And Elizabeth was pitted against the number one fighter in the entire tournament - out of both men and women. She left her little group huddle discussion with Wesley, Spike, and Kendra, a nervous little knot in the pit of her stomach.

And it didn’t help that the other girl was a stuck-up brat, either.

She looked Elizabeth up and down with a raised eyebrow that made it all too clear that she didn’t find her even worthy of her time. Her foot tapped an annoyed staccato as they waited for the judge, and she absentmindedly toyed with a curly, blond lock of her hair.

Elizabeth merely tried to ignore her opponent’s holier-than-thou attitude and stretched slightly before bouncing on her toes a few times, making sure she was still warmed up.

The judge finally emerged from whatever consultation he’d been involved in and announced the match. "Number three - Summers," he nodded in her direction. She bowed back. "Number one - Benaldi." Cheers erupted from the crowd as the other girl bowed. They turned to each other and exchanged a quick salute before the beginning of the bout was announced.

Elizabeth attacked right away, having learned from watching her opponent’s previous matches that if she just stood around, she was toast. Although, unfortunately, this technique didn’t seem to work much better. The other blond blocked her kick effortlessly before catching her at the most awkward angle imaginable and knocking her supporting foot right one from under her.

Elizabeth chided herself under her breath as she got back up and saw the red 1 under Benaldi’s name. Quickly centering herself, she took up her defensive stance once more.

"Ready?" the judge demanded. Elizabeth gave him a quick nod. "Fight!"

Seconds later, Elizabeth was wincing on the floor again. OK, so maybe her opponent didn’t look that strong, but…damn! Where did she learn to kick like that?

She stood up and took several deep, calming breaths.

A roughly accented, teasing "You can do it, Bitsy!" from the audience brought a brief smile to her face before she resumed.

She took a quick kick to the side but managed to keep her feet by pure willpower alone. Her opponent, obviously annoyed by this, began a quick series of brutal punches that Elizabeth had to race backwards to avoid. She finally managed to flip to the side just barely in time to avoid a nasty sweeping kick. She landed behind her opponent, and for a few quick seconds, she had the opening she needed…

And an all-out, frustrated screech escaped her lips as she suddenly found herself back on the mats again. How the bloody hell does she move that FAST?! Her inner mind was fuming.

"Three, zero," the judge announced.

Elizabeth felt herself slipping as a rage overcame her. I can still do this, I just have to… Oh crap.

"Four, zero."

"What’s her name?" someone from the opposing team shouted out.

"Glory!" the cry erupted through the crowd.

Elizabeth seethed and rose to her feet…and, fortunately for her, the break bell rang. She stalked back over to Wesley. "I know I can beat this girl!" she hissed angrily, taking a deep swig of her water. "It’s just… Ugh!"

"Easy, luv," Spike said softly. "No good gettin’ worked up…"

"I’ll get worked up if I want to!" she hissed angrily before sighing. "You’re right," she agreed wearily before turning back to Wesley. "What am I doing wrong?" she asked.

"You need to complete your more complex moves," he informed her. "You’re only getting halfway through-"

"Before she knocks me on my ass!" Elizabeth interrupted, frustrated beyond all belief.

"Take a deep breath and calm down," Wesley instructed her, and she did so. "Now," he informed her, "you’re going to go back in there, and the only thing you’re going to think about is completing that right-left-highkick-roundhouse combination we’ve been working on. All right?"

She nodded and took another quick sip. "Right," she asked, engraining her memories of the move into her active mind.

"You’re just doing this one point at a time," Wesley instructed her. "Pay no attention to the score at all. It’s non-existent."

"One more hit, and I lose!" Elizabeth insisted.

"It doesn’t exist," Wesley repeated.

"Doesn’t exist," she closed her eyes. "Right. Doesn’t exist. Right-left-highkick-roundhouse. Score doesn’t exist. Right-left-highkick-roundhouse…"

The buzzer indicated for her to return to the mat.

"Good luck, luv," Spike called after her.

She spared him a shy little smile before returning to face Glory. Right-left-highkick-roundhouse. Right-left-highkick-roundhouse. The first few blows were exchanged in quick succession as both reassessed each other, and then when Elizabeth had her footing nice and steady…

Right-left-high…crap!

She fell to the ground once more, and the final gong indicated that the match had been won.

"What’s my name?" Glory said, a smug smile plastered across her face.

"Glory!" her cheering squad shouted out.

Elizabeth barely managed to get up to her feet and complete the finishing salutes before she practically fled to the women’s locker room. "Argh!" she screamed out in fury, slamming her fist into the first convenient locker. It stung, but she really didn’t care. The pain was better than the pure humiliation she’d just suffered in front of all those people…

She felt the first tear come to her eye and wiped it away roughly. It was stupid, she knew. Just a dumb tournament. It didn’t matter all that much. So why didn’t any of that make her feel better?

And then the sobs overtook her, and she didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore. In fact, it was a long time before she noticed the strong arms that had held her the entire time she cried.

"Hush, luv," Spike whispered softly in her ear. "’S all right. Jus’ cry it out…"

"Spike?" she managed to get out between her sniffles.

"Yeah?" he looked down at her.

"This is the women’s locker room," she pointed out, somewhat ridiculously.

He cracked a little smile at that. "Any ‘f you bints object, you can jus’ go invade the men’s locker room in exchange," he retorted.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle at that slightly before burying her head back in his shoulder. "You’re hopeless, you know that?" she whispered softly.

"Been informed ‘f that a few hundred times," he agreed, stroking her back slowly, petting her hair.

"I’ve never lost that badly before," Elizabeth finally admitted softly.

Spike shrugged. "’er old man’s a professional coach," he informed her. "Did the Korean Olympic Team a couple ‘f times. She’s been fightin’ since she was two or somethin’."

"And that makes it better?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Third place is damn good for a freshman," he informed her. "Plus," he added, an amused little timber in his voice, "your bleach job’s at least twice ‘s good ‘s hers."

Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle again. "Who does her hair anyway?" she said with a little smile. "It looked like a hair curler went psycho on her…"

"Not to mention she’s a stuck-up bitch," Spike added with a grin.

"And I’m not?" she teased lightly.

"Maybe," he conceded with his characteristic smirk, "but you’re a bloody beautiful stuck-up bitch." She blushed slightly at that, and he ducked his head, somewhat embarrassed as well. "Or, ‘least, so says lowly number seven."

" ‘Lowly’," she batted him in the shoulder. "You’re really good."

"’aven’t given me a chance to show you that yet, though, ‘ave ya, Summers?" he retorted with his full-fledged cocky smirk complete with eyebrow waggle.

She laughed at that. "Completely hopeless…" she repeated her sentiments from earlier.

"Always," he agreed with a small smile, one hand reaching over to cup her chin, turn her face up to look at his, and…

She let out a heady little gasp and let her eyelids flutter shut as his lips gently brushed her forehead.

"Let’s get back out there," he said abruptly then, quickly rising to his feet. "Maybe skanky-ho’ll get the shit kicked outta her in the final round…"

Elizabeth laughed and took the hand he offered her. Damn, how did he always know how to make everything better again…?

Chapter 12

Elizabeth collapsed back on her bed and sighed. To say that the last week had been hectic would be an understatement. Which was grossly unfair given that she’d finished midterms and all.

Apparently, the disaster had started while she and Spike had been safely away in Boston. They had come home late Sunday night, arguing good-naturedly about whether size really did matter…of their trophies, of course. Halfway up the spiral stairs to Westing House, they’d been practically bowled over by a frantic Willow and Oz - yes, Oz had been frantic - before the pair dashed into Oz’s van and took off.

Confused and more than a little bit worried, the bleached pair had hurried up the stairs to find Tara, Xander, Anya, and even Jonathan all in the lounge, looking like they were waiting for the call to hear that their grandmother had died.

A brief panic attack had followed when it was revealed that Devon and Faith were both in the hospital after OD-ing, and that Willow had had to rush down to the hospital in order to fend off the police. The Shady Glen police of course knew that most of the college students experimented, but they were still required to investigate any students so foolish to have gotten themselves into the hospital.

Although exhausted from their trip and the tournament, Elizabeth and Spike had stayed up to wait for the news, anyway. This finally came in around three in the morning when Willow called to report that it hadn’t actually been an OD, just food poisoning, and as a result the police were willing to overlook anything else the doctors might have found in the pair’s bloodstream. Just another of the top ten reasons that campus police were so much easier to deal with than county police.

Assured that Devon and Faith would both be all right, everyone had finally gone off to bed. That gave Elizabeth less than five hours of sleep before class. Two, since she couldn’t fall asleep for the longest time, no matter how tired she was.

She still did go to class, however, and regretted it for the rest of the day. Spike had quite obviously just slept straight through the morning for which she was slightly grateful, given that she really couldn’t have put up with both Riley and Spike in history.

Riley had, of course, not realized that she’d had such a stressful time and thus had been cheerful and perky, planning their weekend outing together. Elizabeth had snapped, more due to lack of sleep than anything else, and she could tell that she’d actually hurt Riley. She’d been guilt tripping and overcompensating ever since.

Of course, this was all on top of having to deal with the results of her midterms…

OK, Elizabeth knew that she was probably pampered and spoiled and everything else, but she’d never gotten anything below a B+ in her life. And even that was only when she was slacking. So, she’d kind of freaked when she’d gotten a B- on one paper and a C+ on another. Apocalypse-world’s-going-to-end kind of freaked.

Willow and Tara had been unavailable for the comfort session she so desperately needed on Wednesday because whatever mess Faith and Devon had gotten themselves into was still occupying all their time. The recalcitrant pair had appeared in the house again early Monday but had both retreated to their respective rooms and not come out since. And Oz had also returned from the hospital with a black eye, of all things, which he refused to discuss with anyone. Elizabeth had absolutely no clue what the hell was going on, and being left out of the loop annoyed her more than anything.

As a result, she’d gone quickly from Xander to Anya to Spike for support. Xander got discounted because his grades were worse than hers, and she didn’t want to make him feel bad. Anya was no good since her philosophy was that grades only mattered when they pertained to her future acquisition of wealth. Plus, Anya hadn’t had the freshman slump.

Spike, however, had finally managed to convince her that everyone got B’s and C’s at first because, yeah, college papers were harder to write and the teachers expected more of you. But, apparently, it was pretty standard for teachers to look at improvement throughout the year for freshmen and grade them on that instead of strictly based on numbers. Given that Spike’s parents were professors, Elizabeth had eventually been convinced.

But that meant that she had to study extra hard to make up for it all. The end result was that all work and no play made Elizabeth a very cranky student. This led to general all-around bitchiness, accidentally snapping at Riley again, and, as a final crown to her new title, Queen of Patheticness, this latest sulk session in her room.

In short, life was not good.

"Hey, Elizabeth," Tara said softly, slipping into her and Willow’s room, a towel still wrapped around herself from her shower.

"Mmf," Elizabeth retorted disinterestedly.

"Rough week?" Tara bit her lip and dug through the closet, searching for one of the dresses she kept here.

Elizabeth just groaned and buried her head deeper into her pillow. "Life. Sucks," she summarized succinctly.

"Yeah," Tara agreed with an amused little smile before a slightly worried frown crossed her face. "It sucks even on the weekends?" she asked.

"Yes," Elizabeth sulked defiantly.

Tara heard the slight waver in her voice, however. "Oh," she said with a sly smile. "Well, if you want something to do tonight…?" she trailed off.

Elizabeth managed to crack a small grin at that. "Going out with the boyfriend this evening," she informed her. "Fun, fun," she added unenthusiastically.

"Not fun?" Tara sat down on Willow’s bed, fully dressed, and began combing through her honey-brown hair.

Elizabeth sighed. "I owe an apology," she explained. "I suck at apologies. Quite probably because I hate making them."

Tara gave her an understanding little nod. "What do you have to apologize for?" she asked curiously.

"Being a bitch," Elizabeth shrugged. "Really bad week," she said in response to Tara’s curious look.

"Ah," Tara nodded with a sage smile, "well, good luck…"

"I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could apologize for me?" Elizabeth mock-requested.

"Sorry," Tara laughed, "I only have to do the apology thing to Willow. You’re stuck apologizing to Riley yourself."

Elizabeth made a goofy pouty face. "Betcha don’t have to apologize to Willow often," she retorted. "And I’ve already had to apologize to Riley twice this week."

Tara shrugged. "More often than you’d think," she answered simply. "Everyone has their bad days. Besides," she said with a quirky little smile, "apologizing can be…um, fun…" Her cheeks flamed slightly.

" ‘Fun’?" Elizabeth had never heard Tara make a remotely sexual statement before, and the opportunity to tease her was too good to pass up. "Do tell," she requested with wide, innocent eyes.

"You’ll figure it out for yourself," Tara retorted, demonstrating her usually hidden ability to be both sly and cagey at the same time.

"Hmm," Elizabeth pondered the question, trying to seek out the mysteries in Tara’s eyes…

* * *

Unfortunately, Elizabeth’s plans for a nice, romantic evening with Riley to make up for her past transgressions stumbled upon a rather large hurtle. Make that a monumental hurtle.

Elizabeth didn’t even notice until they’d been seated down in the one Chinese restaurant in town. She and Riley had been making idle chitchat, and then suddenly a shock of peroxide blond hair caught her attention from a table at the far side of the restaurant. A very unmistakable shock of peroxide blond hair.

"So, you had fun on your little karate thing, huh?" Riley continued to ask about the topic, more because he knew she liked to talk about it than because it actually interested him. In his mind, at least, it wasn’t a real sport if it didn’t involve a team, a ball, and a cheerleading squad.

"Lots of fun," Elizabeth kept her attention focused entirely on Riley. Damnit! They’re ALL here! Please, don’t let them see me…

"How was Boston?" Riley asked.

She shrugged and took a sip of her water. "Didn’t see it. Too busy with the tournament." A little excited glint came into her eye, and she leaned forward on her elbows to recount the tale. "You remember that girl Glory I told you about?" she asked.

Riley strained his mind for a second. "You fought her, right?" he hazarded a guess.

"She’s the one who beat me," Elizabeth reminded him, her voice still a bit bitter at the defeat she’d suffered. "Well, anyway, she’s fighting the final match against this girl from Bates, and-"

"E!" a voice suddenly exclaimed in delight.

Elizabeth turned to see Faith waving at her across the room. She hazarded a little wave back, and Faith nearly bounced out of her seat to come over to her before Devon caught her arm and pulled her back down to sit at the Westing House table. Elizabeth tried to decide what had Faith acting all ultra-happy and decided that it quite possibly involved the alcohol she was currently consuming.

Riley had turned at the exchange as well and finally noticed the group of people he hated but who also happened to be Elizabeth’s friends, albeit without his knowledge. "You know that junkie?" he asked her in disbelief.

Elizabeth bit her lip. Faith had been a pretty good friend to her during orientation, but they’d kind of drifted apart over the last month. Especially since Faith had stopped coming to class. "She lives in my house," Elizabeth said casually, hoping the conversation would end at that.

Riley rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" he commented sarcastically. "Let me guess, one of Giles and Osborne’s friends?"

Elizabeth flinched inwardly. By far the most difficult thing to deal about with Riley was his disdain for the people in her house, but she’d promised herself she wouldn’t rock the boat tonight… She just shrugged. "So, anyway, Glory’s fighting in the finals, and she’s kicking this girl’s ass in that stuck-up way she does…" she persisted in continuing her story.

"Bloody hell, Anyanka!" Spike exclaimed from across the room. It wasn’t overly loud, but Elizabeth and Riley could still hear it. And Riley had been listening for it.

"God, what is his problem?" he demanded, looking over his shoulder at the table across the room. "Doesn’t he have any manners?"

Elizabeth watched Spike fumble around with his napkin, all while exchanging remarks with Anya which were too quiet for her to hear, but undoubtedly snarky. "I think someone spilled something," she put up a token defense for her closet friends.

"The man makes a scene everywhere he goes," Riley continued on his rant. "I mean, what’s with the hair anyway? Who does he think he’s impressing?"

Elizabeth guiltily remembered that she’d had similar thoughts when she first met Spike. Although they’d been somewhat tempered by his inherent salty goodness. That, and the fact that she’d gotten to know him a bit since then, so she didn’t even really notice anymore. In fact, she was actually starting to think that the bleached white thing was kind of sexy.

"It’s just a look," she said disinterestedly, hoping to change the topic. "So, how’s practice going so far?" That trick always worked.

"Exhausting but great," Riley said with a wide grin. "See, we’re doing this new series of drills to give us the stamina we need over our opponents, and…"

Elizabeth tuned out after a little while, merely nodding at regular intervals. She quickly discovered that she could look over Riley’s shoulder and make it seem as though she were watching him. This gave her the opportunity to watch the table behind him.

Spike had made a quick bathroom trip after Anya’s little accidental spill, and in the interval a little argument between Devon and Faith seemed to have started up. Elizabeth frowned slightly as she watched what she thought had been a happy couple hissing angrily at each other just quietly enough that she couldn’t hear.

Riley noticed her frown and quickly misinterpreted it. "We’ve got good scouts, though," he quickly reassured her, "so we shouldn’t have any difficulty replacing Kevin next season."

Elizabeth did the obligatory smile and nod thing before continuing to study the scene behind her. Faith looked like she was trying to leave now, while Willow and Tara seemed to be trying to calm everyone down. Spike chose that moment to return, a frown on his face. There was obviously some kind of argument before Faith got up and stalked off. Another brief argument between those left behind, and then Willow went to chase after her.

Elizabeth was careful not to frown this time even though she was quite thoroughly puzzled by what seemed to be happening at the other table.

"So, what do you think?" Riley’s words suddenly caught her attention.

She stuttered slightly at having been caught with her mind drifting and tried to come up with a response that didn’t scream ‘oops, you caught me napping.’ "Well…I think you’re right," she suggested hesitantly with a little smile.

"Great," Riley said with a broad grin as the waiter arrived to take their orders. "It’ll be a lot of fun. I promise."

Huh? Elizabeth’s mind tried to fathom what she’d missed. What did I just agree to?

* * *

Elizabeth decided that night as she lay in bed, listening to Willow’s soft snores from the other bed, that her relationship with Riley would work a lot better if they just stuck to the stuff that worked between them.

Like, he was actually a pretty fun guy to be with as long as they weren’t alone, they weren’t kissing, and they had something else to watch or do that they both liked. For example, she’d been all good with playing that volleyball game with him at the frat party. That had been perfectly fun. The football game had been all right, too, even though she wasn’t too fond of the game. But still, her, Riley, in open public situations equaled good.

The real problem was when they were alone for too long. Elizabeth realized that they had very different interests. Like, ‘all the things she was interested in bored him, and his stories put her to sleep’ kind of different interests. So the just plain one-on-one talking thing didn’t work too well for them.

This had been proved spectacularly on their date tonight. Riley had wanted to take a long, moonlit drive which, hey, major points for romantic, right? Or, at least, it would be if she actually liked driving. That had never really been high up on her list of fun things to do. She’d always been more of a walking person.

So, they’d driven around and… Yeah, conversations didn’t get much deader. And it wasn’t silence in the good, ‘we’re so comfortable we don’t even need to talk when we’re together’ way. It was just very awkward silence, occasionally interrupted by whatever lame comment either of them could come up with to break the tension.

Hence, the not so fun date.

Problem number two with their relationship seemed to be, at least for her, the physical thing. She’d never thought that her past bad experiences would’ve made her so trigger shy…

Oh, who was she kidding? It wasn’t her. The way her body thrummed every time Spike was near proved all too well that she was still capable of getting turned on by a guy.

But with Riley… She just wasn’t that interested in having a physical relationship with him. She’d let him kiss her, and a bit of soft petting had occurred, but… It was more like a task necessary to continue their relationship - something she had to work at, rather than something she really wanted to do.

That’s good, though, her mind insisted. You should have to work at a relationship to make it work. And you did a great job tonight of being a better girlfriend for Riley…

She was still slightly worried about this last one, though. It was pretty obvious that Riley was more into her physically than she was into him. And this had been their second official ‘we actually got dressed up and went some place nice’ date. Which meant that next weekend was the infamous number three…

Several crafty questions and logical deductive reasoning had finally managed to reveal to her what exactly she’d agreed to while the sight of Spike’s tight jeans had had her distracted. The college’s Autumn Formal Dance was next Friday, and Riley had asked her to go. This was a good thing. She’d really wanted to go to the dance, and she obviously wanted to go with her boyfriend, so there! She’d been all worried over nothing.

But, still, the dance would be date number three, and that meant that Riley would probably be expecting something a bit more…intense in the physical department. Elizabeth felt itchy and wrong just thinking about sex with Riley. Not that he wasn’t a good enough looking guy and everything, but… She just wasn’t ready for that. And, if she wanted to be perfectly honest, she knew way in the back of her mind that she wouldn’t ever be ready. It was quite a dilemma.

Not that she thought Riley would pressure her if she said she wanted to wait, but… Well, he obviously wasn’t going to wait forever. And since forever was going to be what it took for her to get ready, she might as well bite the bullet and not cause a scene on Friday, right?

A resounding NO! was the answer her subconscious had been throwing at her that entire night.

But if she listened to that voice… Have to try to make it work, she insisted. Riley’s absolutely perfect. So, yeah, there are some things in your relationship that you still have to work out, but…at least, this one’s honest, right? He won’t leave you like the others. He’ll…

The pang of one of her deepest fears passed through her at the thought of no man ever bothering to stick around for the next morning. She intuitively knew that all men weren’t like that, but… Good, stable Riley will still be there, she knew only too well. She had a chance with this one. A chance to make this work. All she needed to do was keep up the effort and put that patented Summers stubbornness to work and, voila! No more loneliness for Elizabeth.

Turning over onto her side, she closed her eyes and tried to let sleep overcome her once more. Usually Willow’s even - and slightly saw-like - breaths relaxed her right away. The redhead’s contented sleep was better than any sleeping pill she’d ever taken, in fact. But tonight it just wasn’t working. The whole Riley thing just had her too agitated and nervous.

Think about something else, she encouraged herself. ANYTHING else. Get your mind onto a less stressful topic…

So, what had happened that night in the restaurant? She’d actually been trying to puzzle that one out during some of the longer uncomfortable silences on her and Riley’s date. A part of her had hoped that Willow would still be up when she came in so that she could casually ask and maybe get some answers. Probably not, though, since Willow took her job as an RA and the confidentiality it implied very seriously. In a way, it was good to know that if she had any problems ever they’d be guarded that secretly, and at the same time it was annoying because… Well, because she was a bit of a curious busybody, she guessed with an amused little smile. Still…

Willow and Faith hadn’t returned to the table for the entire rest of the meal. Everyone else had tried to brighten things up a bit - Spike and Anya had gotten into one of their patented arguments, which Riley had stuck his nose up at - but the entire Westing Hall group had seemed a bit subdued. Especially Devon.

Probably just a little lover’s quarrel, Elizabeth decided with a yawn, finally feeling sleep come over her. Things will be all normal and happy again by tomorrow…

* * *

By tomorrow, Devon was so desperate for companionship that he had essentially condemned himself to living hell…for any male, that is.

Spike and Xander had promptly fled in horror when Willow announced that the girls were going shopping, to get Elizabeth a dress for the dance among other things.

But, poor Devon had decided to tag along anyway, subjecting himself into the role of pack animal and endless questions about how various dresses made various women look, any of which could have gotten him attacked en masse if he provided the wrong answers. Although they probably would’ve cut him some slack since he was looking so glum.

"What’s up with Devon?" Elizabeth finally managed to ask Anya none-too-subtly when the two of them ended up all by themselves in a small designer store in the mall. Elizabeth held up two dresses before her. "Red or black?"

Fortunately, Anya didn’t give much of a damn about subtlety. "Faith broke up with him," she rolled her eyes. "Again." She frowned at the two dresses. "Depends on what you’re looking for," she commented. "Black says ‘I’m a successful, sophisticated businesswoman’. Red says ‘I’m a successful, sophisticated businesswoman who’s willing to screw her way to the top’," she joked.

Elizabeth laughed but returned the red dress to the hanger anyway. Anya promptly snatched it up, giving Elizabeth an unashamed little smile.

"Faith and Devon have broken up before?" Elizabeth continued to press what could be the only willing source of information in the house. "When did this happen?"

Anya let out a derisive little snort. "Well, let’s see… The first time was back in October when he caught her dancing with that guy at the rave, and she got really pissed off when he got mad. That was followed by the little fallout over Faith’s ‘groupie’ friends. And then there was the whole methamphetamines thing…followed by the impromptu hospital trip…"

"I’m sensing serious trouble in paradise?" Elizabeth guessed.

"Relationships are all doomed," Anya said matter-of-factly. "They all start out with nice sex, and then before you know it it’s all one big vengeance bloodbath… Do you think this color works with my complexion?" she abruptly asked, pulling a yellow-orange dress from the rack.

"You’re too pale," Elizabeth shook her head, "and your hair’s too light."

"Figured as much," Anya sighed, putting it back. "A pity, though. Bright colors just scream confidence…plus, it’s fun and sexy."

"What does blue scream?" Elizabeth asked with a grin, holding up a deep azure dress. For a second it reminded her of the color Spike’s eyes had been right before their almost non-kiss…

" ‘I’m dour and moody’," Anya replied. "Unless you’ve got the blue eyes to pull it off…"

"Ah, the joys of hazel eyes," Elizabeth sighed. "Don’t set off anything." She kept the dress in her pile of potentials, though. After all, she really liked the color… "So, what’s the point of a relationship if they’re all doomed?" she turned back to the conversation.

Anya gave her a ‘duh’ look. "The sex, of course," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world…

* * *

"No, seriously," Xander insisted, leaning back in Spike’s armchair, feet propped up on the desk chair, staring up at the ceiling, "would you, like, kill someone?"

Spike snorted derisively and took another quick drag of his cigarette, dangling it back in front of the open window by his bed when he was done. The crisp November chill bit at his hand slightly, but it really was just common courtesy not to fill the room with smoke while Xander was there with him.

"What kind ‘f a question ‘s that?" he retorted, staring up at the same spot on the ceiling Xander was as he continued to lay back on his bed.

Apparently, cracked plaster was incredibly fascinating right now to the two, very bored men.

"A pretty straightforward one, I thought," Xander joked. "One night of mad passion with Elizabeth - would you kill someone for it?"

"Do I get to choose who I kill?" Spike joked back.

"Nope," Xander shook his head, "it has to be someone you don’t know. Like, a six-year-old kid or something."

"Christ, Harris!" Spike’s eyes widened in disbelief. "You’ve been hangin’ ‘round Anyanka too much. Startin’ to come up with the same weird stuff she does…"

"Would you?" Xander pressed.

"’ell no!" Spike said, mildly annoyed.

Xander shrugged. "Your turn," he agreed. Spike took another quick drag from his cigarette, and he sighed inwardly. The Get Spike To Quit Smoking Campaign number fifteen had just recently failed, and they were all cutting him a bit of slack for a while before Campaign sixteen began.

"I still say ‘s a girly game," Spike huffed slightly. "We should be doin’ somethin’ more manly like…"

"Drinking and whoring?" Xander joked.

Spike laughed at that. "Soddin’ truth or dare it is then," he sighed. "Would you ‘ave a go at Anyanka?" he finally asked after a brief pause.

Xander’s face flushed a deep crimson in response.

Spike caught the reaction out of the corner of his eye and turned on the bed to face his friend. "You’re kiddin’ me, right?" he said, slightly surprised. "You’ve got a fancy for Anyanka?"

"She’s…fun…" Xander began to babble, still a bit embarrassed…

* * *

"Can I ask you a blunt question?" Anya called over the top of the changing room door.

"Do you ever ask any other kind?" Elizabeth couldn’t help but tease.

Anya’s mouth formed into a pout for a second before she shrugged and conceded that Elizabeth was right. "No," she answered simply. "So, can I ask you?"

"Shoot," Elizabeth agreed, slipping out of her jeans so that she could try on her latest dress.

"Why are you dating Riley?" Anya demanded.

On the other side of the door, Elizabeth let out a long sigh. "Why not?" she countered.

"Well, I guess he’s well-formed enough," Anya decided, "but you don’t really seem to like him all that much. And you seem to have a strong desire to have sex with Spike."

For once, Elizabeth’s deep blush was hidden from all eyes…well, unless this was one of those changing rooms that had the hidden cameras where perv security guards watched women change… She shook her head and got her mind back on topic.

"I like Riley," she insisted. She wasn’t even quite willing to acknowledge she’d heard that last statement yet…

"Do you really?" Anya pried. "Because you don’t really ever hang out with him unless you have to. And you don’t ever talk about him. Plus, the two of you really are nothing alike."

"We get along just fine," Elizabeth insisted.

"Only ‘fine’?" Anya pressed. "Because you seem to have a lot more chemistry with Spike. Like, ‘I’ve actually thought the two of you would rip off all your clothes and start rutting right on the dinner table’ kind of chemistry."

OK, that visual really shouldn’t have been so appealing. Elizabeth now had several compound blushes all built up on top of each other. At this rate her face would be permanently red.

"The dinner table is safe," she managed to reassure Anya in a wry voice that belied the butterflies fluttering about in her stomach. "Besides, you’re the one Spike hangs out with all the time…" she trailed off, wondering if she should finally ask Anya exactly what her relationship with Spike was. It was a question that had confused her for a little while now.

"Yeah, but I can’t have sex with Spike," Anya said matter-of-factly, checking her fingernails for dirt. "He’s like my annoying little brother…or, maybe more like older brother…" She frowned for a second. "Annoying twin brother!" she finally decided with delight. "And, yeah, he’s gorgeous as all hell, but even I draw the line at incest…"

"Then, er…you and Spike haven’t…?" Elizabeth trailed off, embarrassed that she was even asking this question.

"Spike like a brother. Incest bad," Anya repeated. "And how long are you going to take to try that dress on, anyway?"

Elizabeth opened the door and stepped out, showing off the dress to Anya with a little twirl. "What do you think?" she asked, fingering the white silk fabric.

"I still say white says ‘Ultra-pure virgin who’s not willing to kick the balls necessary to reach the top’," Anya joked. "And, given that you can pretty much kick any guy’s ass…"

"Without the business commentary?" Elizabeth demanded, both annoyed and amused at the same time. Oh yeah, sometimes the not-quite-family resemblance between Anya and Spike was all too apparent.

"It would look nice if it wasn’t white," Anya insisted, her brow wrinkled slightly. "It’s just so…fluffy!" She gesticulated wildly.

"That’s not necessarily a bad thing," Elizabeth countered, looking at her reflection in the wall-length mirror.

Anya shrugged. "I like the black one better. Spike would like it, too. He thinks you’re very sexy in black."

And Elizabeth’s face flamed once more…

* * *

"I can’t ‘xplain how you know; you just do!" Spike exclaimed in mild irritation.

"Try," Xander insisted.

Spike looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Since when did this conversation turn from your li’l crush on Anyanka to my ‘opeless one on ‘Lizabeth?" he demanded.

"It just did," Xander countered with an amused grin. "Live with it."

Spike let out a little sigh and let his head fall back against his pillow, studying the ceiling intently through the ring of smoke he’d just blown. "’S like whenever she’s around you feel…I don’ know, alive. Every cell in your body just feels energized, an’ ‘s all tellin’ you to jus’ get a li’l bit closer…jus’ so you can feel ‘er warmth an’ breathe in ‘er scent an’… Oh, bloody hell! ‘m turnin’ into a soddin’ poof!" Spike slapped himself on the forehead.

"Yes, your intense romantic interest in a woman indicates that you’re gay," Xander couldn’t help but tease.

Spike gave him an annoyed look. "You’re not jus’ actin’ like Anyanka, you are Anyanka," he accused good-naturedly.

Xander blushed slightly at the reminder of his own current interest.

"Bet she’d go for you, if you made a move," Spike commented, rolling over on his side to face Xander. "She’s pretty open ‘bout those sorts ‘f things…an’ we already know she likes ta hang out with you…" He took another quick drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in his ashtray. "’d say if you’ve got a chance in hell, go for it. Hell, I don’ even have a chance in hell, but ‘m still chasin’ after my girl…"

* * *

"It’s not that I have anything against sex with Spike," Elizabeth insisted, taking a sip from her latte. "It’s just that I already have a boyfriend, and a life!"

"But you don’t love your boyfriend, and you’re slowly turning your back on the life you used to have," Anya persisted, flopping down in the chair of the small mall café across from her. "Your rush of Tri Xi really was pretty intentionally pathetic, and you even admit that you’re trying to run from the future your dad’s got planned from you… So, why on earth are you following his advice on men?"

Elizabeth sighed. It sucked getting into an argument with someone just as stubborn as she was. "Riley’s a good man…" she persisted.

"But you aren’t really interested in him as a boyfriend," Anya repeated her own earlier words. "And Spike’s a good man, too."

"Did he put you up to this?" Elizabeth suddenly accused.

"No," Anya said with a quickness and assuredness that made it impossible for Elizabeth to doubt the truthfulness of this statement. "He’s just a really good friend, and he really likes you."

"But…"

"And I think you like him, too," Anya cut her off. "Anyway, your pupils dilate and your cheeks flush whenever he flirts with you, and you’re always checking him out when you think no one is looking, and-"

"OK, OK!" Elizabeth cut her off, her cheeks flushing in just the manner Anya had described. "So, he’s…attractive…"

" ‘Attractive’?" Anya repeated, delighted that she’d finally gotten an admission out of the too-stubborn blond.

"Yeah," Elizabeth shrugged. "I can think a guy’s attractive without it meaning anything, right?"

"So, you don’t like him them?" Anya pressed, a conspiratorial little smile on her face.

Elizabeth lowered her eyes, but a smile played at the edges of her lips, too. "He’s…nice," she admitted softly, "sweet… When he’s not pissing me off, that is."

Anya chuckled at that. "We stubborn, irritating people have to stick together," she teased lightly. "So, let me get this straight then. You think Spike is ‘attractive’, ‘nice’, and ‘sweet’?"

Elizabeth fiddled with a lock of her hair and took another sip of her latte. "Sometimes," she agreed softly.

"But you still wouldn’t date him?" Anya demanded.

Elizabeth thought about that one for a minute. "Promise you won’t tell him I said this?" she suddenly requested.

"I’d sooner hand over my entire bank account to you," Anya swore.

Elizabeth laughed at this before leaning in over the table and lowering her voice to a whisper. "If I didn’t have to worry about all this stuff," she began, "Riley, my father, my family…my reputation…" She winced slightly at that last one.

"Yeah?" Anya asked excitedly.

"If I didn’t have any of that stuff to worry about," Elizabeth repeated, "I’d be all over Spike in a heartbeat…"

* * *

"I mean half the time I think she jus’ hates me," Spike sighed, "and then…" He closed his eyes wearily. "’m beginnin’ to think ‘s just completely an’ utterly hopeless…"


Chapter Thirteen

"I think this thing," he sighed, "between you and me is just…hopeless…"

Elizabeth just stood there, stunned, not quite believing that this conversation was occurring. "W-What?" she stammered nervously, her heart sinking in her chest as the implications of his words sunk in.

"I can’t do it anymore," he repeated in as calm a voice as he could manage considering the circumstances, desperately trying to make this as easy for both of them as possible. "You hanging out with me, but not ever being really with me… It’s eating me apart. So," he took another deep sigh, "I think we have to just stop seeing each other. For both our sakes."

Elizabeth could almost see the fractured remains of her world crumble around her. "Why?" she demanded, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "Why now? Where did this come from?"

"I can’t live a lie anymore," he responded, perhaps a bit over-dramatically.

"Is it because of her?" Elizabeth nodded her head disdainfully in the direction that the brunette had fled in after Elizabeth’s arrival. The last thing Elizabeth had expected to see when she entered his room was him sitting on the bed with another girl, kissing her softly, gently, the way Elizabeth had always wanted to be kissed...

"She helped me realize that I needed someone who was really here for me, yeah," he agreed. "But it’s not her fault. We weren’t going anywhere, Elizabeth," he said softly. "I guess it just wasn’t meant to be…"

Elizabeth let out a strangled little sob. "But I need you," she whimpered softly.

"You’re strong," he insisted with a fond smile. "I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman as strong as you. Which is why you have to be strong now - why both of us have to be strong - and let this go…"

She sniffled and managed a weak little nod. "I-I really like you," she insisted.

His expression softened. "I like you, too," he agreed, "but what we’ve got together… I just don’t think it can work?" He left a little question at the end, trying to verify her own opinion on the matter.

"I-I guess you’re right," she admitted sheepishly, wiping at her tears. "I really wish it could, but…"

"It’ll be all right," he assured her. "I just need time…and I think you do, too."

She shakily nodded her head and sniffed a little. "You’re probably right," she agreed sadly, turning to go.

"Are you going to be all right?" he asked, still worried about her despite the fact that he’d just given up the right to be.

She managed a weak smile and a nod. "I’ll be OK," she agreed. "I’m really sorry, and…good-bye, Riley." And, with that, she was gone.

* * *

It was with a weary stretch and a tired sigh that Spike collapsed on the couch in the house lounge and flicked on the TV. There was no doubt in his mind that this was going to be the most miserable Friday night ever.

With the help of many strategic elbow jabs and foot stampings, Spike had finally managed to give Xander the courage - or, at least, the desire to avoid pain - to ask Anya to the Autumn Formal Dance. Personally, Spike had always found dances to be dull as toast, but the capitalistic young woman had immediately declared that it was "wonderful practice for future business engagements," and Xander had found himself very happily with a date. Lucky bastard.

Oz and Devon had an out of town gig this weekend and had driven out that afternoon. Faith had tagged along - all part of Faith/Devon make-up number ninety-six, so all of them were off elsewhere having fun as well. Well, as long as none of Faith’s really annoying groupie friends were hanging around, that is.

Willow and Tara had reserved this weekend as their ‘special date night’ over a month ago, and were right now doing all sorts of things that caused Spike’s jeans to strain painfully whenever he thought about them too much.

Of course, that particular problem went away instantly as soon as he remembered where Elizabeth was. Off at the dance, on Captain Cardboard’s arm, and - from the occasional female giggles he’d heard around the house - straight into his bed.

God, was he miserable! And he could really use a drink, too…

He mentally slapped himself for that one, digging around in his bag for his cigarettes. He plucked one out and let it dangle between his lips for a minute, studying his lighter intently, before he figured ‘to hell with it!’ and lit up in the lounge anyway. He reached over to open the window a crack, though. Willow would have his head if this place smelled like cigarette smoke when she got back.

It took only a few, quick drags for him to realize that nicotine wasn’t going to be enough to soothe his nerves tonight. And, given that the best thing on television was Star Trek V, it didn’t look like the TV was going to save him tonight, either. Dammit. He really needed a drink.

He began to pace about the room in an agitated manner at that, hoping to burn off some of his excess emotional energy. He had to get out of here, he decided. If he stuck around the dorm, he was just going to get more and more wound up, and that never ended well. And, really, there was only one place he could go when he got in a mood like this.

Decision made, he quickly flicked the television off just as the opening credits read Leonard Nimoy’s name, and that was when he heard it.

He froze for a second, trying to identify the sound. Someone talking down the corridor, perhaps? But the only one who could possibly be here tonight was Jonathan, and the voice had sounded…

Another little whimper, and he turned to face the door to Willow and Elizabeth’s room. Yes, the sound was definitely coming from there, and it really sounded like someone was…crying?

Cautiously, he knocked on the door. "Anyone in there?" he asked, still half-believing that he was hallucinating.

There was nothing for a minute, and he almost thought he was starting to hear things when a ragged "Yeah?" finally broke the silence.

"’Lizabeth, is that you?" he cracked open the door, and what he saw made him want to instantly run over to her and hold her in his arms.

"Oh god," she groaned, wiping that the mascara trails that ran down her face, "I must look like hell…"

"No," he assured her quickly, trying for nonchalant as he stood in the doorway and watched her, still curled up in a ball and wearing the white dress she’d chosen for the dance, sobbing softly on the bed. "A-Are you all right, luv?" OK, he knew it was a stupid question, but he had no idea what else to do.

She managed a little smile, acknowledging that, yeah, that was a really stupid question. "Not really," she finally shrugged with a grimace. She reached over to the nightstand for a Kleenex and quickly blew her nose.

Cautiously, Spike stepped into the room, perching on the corner of Willow’s deck so that he could watch her more comfortably. "Wanna talk about it?" he asked, belatedly realizing that his cigarette was still lit and searching frantically for a place to put it out.

Elizabeth fetched an old bowl she’d stolen from the dinning hall and handed it to him. "Not really," she repeated with a half-sad, half-amused little smile.

He gave her a grateful one in return and snuffed out his cigarette in the bowl she’d provided. "Right then," he said, scratching the back of his head. He watched her walk over to the mirror and grimace at the state her make-up was in. His gaze turned to his boots for a second as he debated what to do. "Was plannin’ on going out," he finally announced, his voice sounding overly loud in the otherwise empty dorm. "You can come with, if you want," he added almost shyly. "That is, if you don’t ‘ave anythin’ better to do, or…y’know…" He trailed off awkwardly.

Elizabeth didn’t know whether to cry or laugh - it had just been one of those days. So, she just settled for neither. "OK," she said calmly, wiping at her eyes once again. "I just hafta…y’know…" She gestured to her dress.

"Right," Spike nodded, "you want me to…"

"Yeah, you’d better," she agreed. "You’ll be…?"

"In the lounge," he assured her before giving her a hint of his usual cocky smirk. "Don’ keep me waitin’, luv…" he offered before stepping back out into the hall.

She gave him a bemused little smile and an obligatory roll of the eyes. "You’re so full of yourself," she couldn’t help but tease before closing the door so that she could change…

* * *

Spike found himself strangely at peace as the two of them wound their way through the narrow, old streets of Shady Glen, both burrowed deep into their jackets to fight off the cold November winds.

Elizabeth had been ready to go in less than five minutes - undeniably the women’s world record in getting prepared for going out. All she’d done was slipped into some old, comfortable jeans and a tight black sweater before washing all of her make-up off.

He hadn’t ever seen her out in public without the make-up before, but he’d always preferred the natural look he saw every morning in the bathroom to the painted mask of perfection she presented to the world. It made her look more real, more human, more beautiful…

They’d exchanged few words during their walk, mostly caught up in their own private thoughts, but it was still…pleasant, Elizabeth decided.

She even managed a little giggle when she hadn’t anticipated turning the corner Spike had intended and he ended up accidentally bumping into her. She bumped right back into him, hands still firmly buried in her jacket pockets, and he got this wicked grin on his face before returning the favor.

Before either of them knew what was happening, all out war had broken out. And, after a particularly skillful shove to his behind, Elizabeth had run from the obvious retaliation, squealing and laughing as she ducked behind bushes and fences, evading his amused/enraged pursuit.

He finally caught her in someone’s backyard, and he grabbed her waist, lifting her up a few inches off the ground before carrying his giggling and squirming load back over to the sidewalk.

"’S not nice to run around in other people’s yards," he informed her teasingly.

She gave him a little mock-pout. "I was under attack," she countered. "There were mitigating circumstances."

"Ah, well, tha’s all right then," he agreed with false gravity. "But don’t you worry, miss," he affected an absolutely horrible American accent, "the cavalry’s here now."

"I think I’d be safer without the cavalry," she countered with a smile. She still hadn’t moved away from he’d put her down, and she found herself in a loose embrace. "But, mmm," she savored their closeness, "he sure is hot…"

"Oi! You’re stealin’ my heat!" Spike joked before her words hit him. " ‘Hot’, you say?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her unfortunate choice of words. "Don’t suppose there’s a chance in hell you’ll let me get away with that one easily?"

"Never," he promised softly before catching her elbow where her hand was still buried in her jacket pocket and pulling her along with him. "Have ta make a quick stop," he informed her, "drop some stuff off, and then we can head out."

"Where?" Elizabeth ran up alongside him. "Where on earth are you taking me, William?" she demanded in a goofy, low voice.

"You’ll find out later," he gave her a little wink. "For now," he led her through a hole in a nearby hedge and they came out into a large backyard with the expanse of forest preserve that formed Shady Glen’s northern boundary as its only fence, "we’re headed to my house."

"Luring me over to his place," Elizabeth shook her head and clucked her tongue. "For shame, for shame."

"Yeah," Spike rolled his eyes, "’cause ‘m gonna seduce you in my house while my mum’s there instead of, say, usin’ that nice, private dorm room ‘f mine."

She flashed with a wide smile. "While your mom’s there?" she teased. "Ooh, very kinky…"

He snorted in annoyance and fiddled with the key-chain he’d produced from his duster pocket before finding the right key and unlocking the door. "After you," he gestured with a politeness and formality she never would’ve guessed him capable of.

All too eager to escape the cold, she entered the old Victorian house, a smile gracing her lips at the homey kitchen she found inside.

Behind her, Spike let the screen door shut with a bang before shoving the backdoor shut with what looked like a Herculean effort. "It sticks!" he protested to the amused look she gave him. "Well, it does!" he continued to defend himself when her entertained expression didn’t fade. Grumbling under his breath with as much creative British invective as he could come up with, he let his bag drop onto the kitchen table with a loud thump before digging around in it and pulling out the books he’d borrowed for his history paper.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, wandered around the kitchen somewhat aimlessly, observing all the strange little quirks that always stuck out to you when you visited someone else’s home for the first time. The kitchen was neat enough but displayed what Elizabeth could only call a ‘healthy clutter’. Several books were pilled on one corner of the table, together with notebooks, papers… All the shelves were packed to full with various spices, and every bit of free counter space that had been left was covered with houseplants. Elizabeth leaned in to smell the flowers of whatever hanging vine dangled from the hook in the ceiling right above the sink. No scent, but the plant - and all the others, for that matter - looked very well tended to.

"You, uh, want somethin’ to drink?" Spike’s soft-spoken question snapped her attention back to him. "Or, you hungry?"

"I don’t want to be a bother," Elizabeth brushed aside his offer, nervously studying her fingernails.

"’S no bother," he insisted, getting up and walking over to the fridge. One of the floorboards creaked under his feet as he did so.

Elizabeth smiled a bit at that. This was so unlike the houses she was used to. All her life she’d lived in new, expensive, suburban homes that had been thrown up overnight. They all felt sterile, plastic, like a tacky billboard that screamed "Wealthy here!" Spike’s house was the exact opposite - old, used, built with beauty and love. It didn’t have the same obsession with maximum space as the houses Elizabeth was used to, but she liked it. It felt warm and snug and safe.

"I like your house," she said softly, coming over to stand by him as he dug through the fridge.

"Thanks," he looked up at her with another of those shy smiles. "Mum’s had it since I was five. Spent all my life livin’ here an’ in my da’s place in Cambridge."

"Your parents are divorced?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"No," he shook his head, "jus’ got jobs at different schools. We all get together for the holidays an’ breaks an’ such…" He frowned. "Don’ have much besides milk and orange juice," he said apologetically. "You want-?"

"William, is that you?" a voice from the stairs interrupted him.

He rolled his eyes. "No, mum, ‘s a burglar."

Elizabeth giggled slightly, and the laughter from the doorway echoed hers. "I guessed as much by the way you didn’t even bother to announce you were home," Spike’s mother teased.

He gave her a bemused smile. "Din’t wanna wake you up was all," he joked back. "After all, ’s seven - way past your bedtime."

She laughed good-naturedly and gave him a quick hug, which he looked embarrassed at…although more because it was expected of him than he really minded. "Nice to finally have visual confirmation that my son’s not dead in a back-alley somewhere," she said, mirth in her eyes. "Now what’ve you managed to do to yourself so far this quarter?" She looked him up and down appraisingly and plucked a twig from his otherwise white hair.

He shrugged. "Just around. Brought back the books I borrowed. Brought a friend, too."

His mother’s attention turned to Elizabeth for the first time, and she quickly noticed the thing which had had Elizabeth stunned ever since she walked in. "Elizabeth!" she exclaimed in delight. "You never told me you knew William!"

"That’s because I really, really had no idea that you were his mother," Elizabeth explained, still stunned.

Spike looked back and forth between the two of them curiously. "You know each other?" he sounded surprised.

"Elizabeth’s in my Visual Arts class," Professor Devereux explained.

"Really?" Spike cocked an eyebrow in Elizabeth’s direction. "Din’t know you did art."

"Neither did I," Elizabeth agreed, still a little bit shocked and a lot unsure how she should act in this situation.

"Elizabeth’s quite the artist," Professor Devereux said with a little smile, heading over to the fridge. "And, honestly William, haven’t you offered our guest anything to…?" She looked into the fridge and frowned. "Do you like orange juice?" she asked Elizabeth apologetically.

"I’m OK," Elizabeth insisted with a nervous little smile.

"Wouldn’t say no to hot chocolate," Spike hinted none-too-subtly.

Elizabeth perked up at this idea as well. After all, it was cold outside…

Professor Devereux gave Spike a quirky little smile before opening one of the cabinets and fishing around in it for the chocolate. "And you can’t make it yourself, I suppose?" she teased.

"No where near as well as you can, mum," Spike swore with false sincerity.

"Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere, young man," she said in that Mom Voice that all women developed once they had kids. There was still a bemused, light-hearted note to her words, however.

Spike gave Elizabeth an embarrassed little grin. "So, yeah, that’s my mum. I would introduce you, but…would be kinda pointless, wouldn’t it?"

"Spike," Elizabeth couldn’t help but tease, "don’t look now, but your mother’s a teacher."

Professor Devereux laughed along with them at this. "Sorry, for fundamentally shattering your universe," she gave Elizabeth a little wink. "So," she said, stirring the pan on the stove, "what are you kids up to tonight?"

"Just headin’ out to the lake," Spike shrugged, collapsing in the chair beside Elizabeth.

"It’s a cold night," Professor Devereux hinted.

"Yeah…" Spike agreed, a hint of dread in his voice.

"So where are your hats and gloves?" she demanded.

"Mum!" Spike exclaimed, obviously mortified, before collapsing onto his arms in mock-tears.

Elizabeth gave his hand an amused little reassuring pat, and he smiled at her.

"I’m required by law to embarrass him with that question in front of all of his friends," Devereux joked.

Spike moaned in complaint.

Engaging in whatever unearthly ritual it was that allowed People Who Knew How To Cook to determine when something was done, Devereux turned off the stove and poured the hot chocolate into three mugs.

"Thanks, Professor," Elizabeth said with a smile as she took hers.

Devereux waved her hand in the air in distaste. "Please, call me Joyce," she insisted. "I’ve never been fond of the whole ‘professor’ thing."

"Joyce," Elizabeth tried it out. It was still strange to call a professor by her first name, even if it wasn’t in a class situation.

"William," Joyce nudged Spike’s elbow and set his mug beside it, "the obligatory Period Of Embarrassment is over. You can get up now."

He gave her that irascible smirk of his before practically devouring the contents of his mug.

Joyce gave Elizabeth a little grimace. "I tried to teach him manners," she insisted, taking a sip of her own mug, "really I did."

Spike gave her an annoyed glance, and Elizabeth laughed. A brief silence followed as they all drank the delectably sweet beverage.

"This is really good," Elizabeth genuinely complimented Joyce. "All I ever got at home was that stuff out of the packets."

"Thanks, dear," Joyce gave her a friendly smile. "I always do my best." She looked back and forth between her son and his young friend and tried not to notice the raging hormones that seemed to be flashing between them. "So," she said, making conversation, "how did you and William meet?"

"He lives all of two doors down from me," Elizabeth answered.

"Oh, so you’re in Westing House, then," Joyce nodded. "I’ve always loved that old building."

"It’s really nice," Elizabeth agreed. "Although, everything seems really nice around here," she said, gesturing to the room around her.

"The town’s got a nice feel to it," Joyce agreed, "very old. You feel like secrets of the past are around you at all times."

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed with a smile, "that’s exactly it."

"So, where are you from?" Joyce asked curiously.

Spike got a worried look on his face when he realized that his mom was doing the whole check-out-the-potential-girlfriend routine.

"Sunnydale, California," Elizabeth answered, oblivious to Joyce’s sly maternal motives. "It’s near LA. One of those exurbs that pop up overnight. Nothing like this place."

"Hmm, I bet it’s warm over there," Joyce said wistfully. "The only thing that gets to me here are the winters."

"Yeah, it’s freezing outside," Elizabeth agreed, "and people keep telling me it’s only going to get worse."

"You should be wearing a hat and gloves," Joyce returned to what was obviously one of her favorite nagging topics, given that Spike groaned. "You won’t even feel the cold then," she informed Elizabeth.

"Yeah, I’d better go buy some soon," she agreed. "It’s getting to be more than I can handle."

"Do you want to borrow some of mine?" Joyce asked in maternal alarm. "I’ve got plenty of extras, and your ears look a little bit pink, dear…"

Spike groaned inwardly. Apparently, Elizabeth was passing the test. Now came the ‘mother potential girlfriend incessantly’ stage.

"That would be really great," Elizabeth said with a wide smile. "I mean, I’ll return them and everything, I promise. It’s just I kind of got caught off guard. After all, winter doesn’t really start until after break."

"It’s starts in September here," Joyce joked, quickly dashing off to fetch Elizabeth appropriately warm winter-wear. "You know, William," she called out as she dug through the hall closet, "I’ve got plenty of your old things here, too. No need to freeze your fingers off for fashion’s sake."

"Mum!" Spike protested, his face turning a bit red. "Mum’s kinda…um…" he tried to explain to Elizabeth, embarrassed beyond belief.

"Sweet," Elizabeth said with a smile, giving his hand a quick squeeze.

"I was thinkin’ more along the lines of ‘annoyin’ an’ embarrassing’," Spike countered, finishing off his hot chocolate, "but yeah," he agreed with a shy little smile.

There was just something about him when he got that bashful look on his face that drew Elizabeth right in. She felt her heart pounding faster to her chest and unconsciously began to lean closer to him, wanting to reassure him with her touch…

"Here you go," Joyce dropped a black woven hat, scarf, and mitten set onto the table.

"Thanks so much," Elizabeth said appreciatively. She tried on one of the mittens. "Ooh, warm!"

"You can borrow them as long as you like, Elizabeth," Joyce insisted, watching the young pair get up to leave. She gave her son an approving little smile at how close the two of them had been together as she’d walked in.

"Thank you so much, Prof-I mean, Joyce," Elizabeth repeated, adding a little wince to the title she’d habitually used.

"You two have a nice evening," Joyce called after them.

"Thanks, mum," Spike gave her a little wave.

"And come back soon!" she mock-ordered.

"Right, mum," he agreed before practically shoving Elizabeth out the door before him.

Happily bundled into her new warm winter gear, Elizabeth gave him an amused grin. "Afraid she was about to bring out the baby pictures?" she teased.

"Oh god," Spike groaned, "you ‘ave no idea…"

"Oh, c’mon," Elizabeth prodded his arm, "she was really cool."

"She’s not ‘cool’," Spike gesticulated wildly. "She’s my mum!"

"Trust me," Elizabeth insisted, linking her arm through his where he stubbornly kept his hands buried in his pockets rather than wearing gloves, "she is by far the nicest mom I’ve ever met. The nicest professor, too."

"What ‘bout your mum?" Spike countered, desperately trying to hide the smile that indicated that, yeah, he really did like his mom.

"She’s dead," Elizabeth said softly.

He stopped and looked at her. "Oh, ‘m sorry, luv," he said apologetically. "I din’t know…"

"That’s OK," she assured him with a little smile. "There was no way you could." They resumed walking in silence a bit before Elizabeth let out a little chuckle.

"What?" Spike asked curiously, glad his question hadn’t depressed her.

"If I were the paranoid sort," Elizabeth explained, "I would think this was all some sort of conspiracy."

He gave her a confused look.

"Your mom turning out to be my professor," she shrugged, "trying to trick me by having a different last name…"

He let out a low chuckle at that. "’S an academic thing," he provided. "She’d already published a bunch of articles before she married my dad an’ din’t want to add to the confusion of academia by changin’ her name on everyone. That, and she likes Devereux better’n Giles," he added with a sheepish grin.

Elizabeth laughed. "God, if she’d tried that in my parents’ circle of friends, she would’ve been cast out as an ‘uppity woman’."

"You’re kiddin’ me?" Spike gave her an incredulous look. "People still think like that?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You wouldn’t believe how stuffy some of these business types can be. Like, when my dad married my mother? There was this huge scandal because he was, gasp!, new money!"

"You’re serious?" Spike still couldn’t believe it.

"Oh god," Elizabeth grimaced, "all the women I grew up with…" She shuddered. "They actually go around making family trees of various fortunes and then ‘pairing up’ the heirs in the way that they think would work best to keep all the big families on top. And I always got paired with the really scrawny, inbred-looking guys with asthma."

Spike laughed. "Aw, poor baby," he gave her a playful little squeeze.

She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the brief feel of his arms around her. "It’s nice to get away from all that," she finally agreed softly when he’d reestablished an appropriate distance between them.

"’ll bet," he agreed, dodging off on a path to the side. "This way," he instructed.

She followed him curiously. They’d taken a path back through the woods behind his house, and it was actually a weird experience for her. She’d never really been in a forest period, let alone one at night. Most of the leaves had fallen already, crunching softly beneath their feet as well as opening up their field of view and thus allowing the street lights from the town to shine through the dark shadows of the tree trunks, like distant stars fallen to earth.

"You’re sure you’re not lost?" she asked, a bit nervously.

"Had this path memorized since I was ten," Spike reassured her. "Could find my way blind."

"That’s good, since we pretty much are blind," she teased.

He gave her an amused little "humph" before dodging over to another small path, this one leading away from the town.

She followed him un-hesitantly. It was strange. If her past experiences had taught her anything, it was that she should be wary of situations like this. But she just couldn’t bring herself to distrust Spike. There was never any doubt in her mind that he would never hurt her, even though she tried to remind herself a few times that she was getting herself into a vulnerable situation. Very strange.

"Close your eyes," Spike stopped abruptly.

"Why?" she retorted. "I can’t see anything now. Closing my eyes isn’t gonna make a lot of difference."

He rolled his eyes in that annoyed manner of his. "Jus’ do it?" he requested. "Please?"

"OK," she agreed in a shier voice than she knew she had, obeying his request.

She felt his hands take hold of hers and smiled, following his lead. It wasn’t far - just around the bend - before he brought her to a halt.

"You can open your eyes now, luv," he whispered right against her ear so that she could feel his warm breath, even though the hat.

She opened her eyes and her smile widened. "Wow," she said breathlessly.

They stood on an open little hill that overlooked a small lake. The black depths of the waters below were highlighted by the full moon that hung low in the sky, creating silver ripples on the lake’s surface. The soft moonlight illuminated everything around them now that they were out from under the forest canopy, creating ghostly shadows and shrouding the world around them with an ethereal beauty.

"Used to come here all the time when I was a kid," Spike was looking down at his boots, playing the bashful role once more like he was afraid she would laugh at him. "My dad an’ I would come out at night. Learned how to swim in that lake an’ everythin’."

She looked up at him with a shy smile of her own, charmed by his story.

"Anyway," he shrugged, "’s where I always come when somethin’s botherin’ me, so I figured maybe it’d work for you, too…" He trailed off, embarrassed, and looked down over the water.

"It’s nice," she agreed with him softly. "It’s really nice." She rose up on her toes and gave his cheek a quick kiss. "Thank you, Spike."

He managed to look both embarrassed and goofily ecstatic at once at her response and quickly caught her hand, pulling her after him with a laugh. "C’mon," he insisted, "gotta show you the rocks - loads ‘f fun."

She laughed along with him, amazed at the change in her companion. The moonlight had turned him into a silvery specter, his hair glistening and his eyes glinting. The angles and curves of his face were smoothed out in the soft light, making him look like a creature not of this world. Forever young, forever beautiful… She had never seen him look so relaxed, carefree, boyish… And it was contagious.

With a laugh, she leapt out onto the rock in the lake alongside him. It seemed that the lake’s visitors had created a little path in stones that meandered through the waters and the marshlands. Without the slightest care that this probably wasn’t so safe, she chased after him, and they played a little game of tag across the surface of the lake. Nothing else but the game mattered; they were immortal.

Elizabeth let out a little squeak of alarm when the illusion was shattered and Spike tripped on one of the wet stones. Fortunately, he landed on the stone itself, rather than falling into the lake. Instantly, she was at his side, helping him up.

"Are you all right?" she asked with wide, concerned eyes.

Spike shook his hand and let her lead him to shore. "Bugger," he said, examining the hand he’d landed on.

Elizabeth took it in hers when they were safely on the beach and winced at the deep gouge a jagged edge of the rock had put in it. "Ouch," she said sympathetically, watching him bring the hand up to his face and suck on the wound.

"Ew!" she exclaimed in mock-disgust.

"What?" he protested. "Need to clean to wound out, don’t I?" He winced a bit at the tenderness of the skin that hadn’t been shredded.

"Nice lake equals water," she pointed out with a perfect ‘duh’ tone in her voice. "No need to go all vampire on me."

"Maybe I am a vampire, and I brought you out here to kill you," he teased, waving the fingers of his uninjured right hand in a typical menacing monster gesture.

"Nice try," she retorted, unimpressed, "but I’ve seen you out in the sun. That, and I doubt vampires fall flat on their asses like you just did." She giggled slightly at the memory of the sight now that she knew he was all right.

He pouted at her mockery before catching hold of her. She let out a little squeal and batted halfheartedly at him when he nuzzled her neck.

"Gonna drink your blood," he teased.

She laughed at the feel of his warm lips on her neck. "God, you are so weird!" she exclaimed fondly. "Plus, if you were a vampire, I would so shoot you with a silver bullet."

"That’s for werewolves, luv," he pointed out, pulling back to look at her with a smile. He gently brushed aside the one lock of her hair that persistently escaped her hat and got in her eyes. "Hafta stake vampires to kill ‘em."

"Whatever," she shrugged. "I would so kick your ass anyway."

"’ve no doubt you would," he agreed softly, that shy little smile that drove her wild coming back onto his face.

The impulse to hold him at that moment was too strong to resist, and she wrapped her arms around him. His breath seemed to catch in his chest as she clung to him, and slowly his arms slipped around her as well.

With a contented murmur, she rested her head on his chest just over his pounding heart and whispered in a soft voice, "Riley dumped me."

"Yeah," he murmured against her hair, "I kinda figured something like that."

"I guess it was obvious," she sighed. "Hell, I knew we were doomed, but I didn’t have the courage to break it off… I had to wait for him to figure it out."

"’S not so bad then?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean, you agreed with him?"

"I did," she agreed, nuzzling the soft leather of his jacket further, "but it still hurts, y’know?"

"Yeah, I think so," he nodded.

"I just feel so much like a failure," she confessed. "I mean, I didn’t really want to join Tri Xi or date Riley, but I wasn’t strong enough to say so. I just kind of stood there and waited until they passed me by."

"That bothers you?" he asked softly.

She pulled back just enough to look at him. "That bothers me a lot," she agreed. "I like to think that I’m a strong person, that I can make my own decisions and I don’t have to have other people make them for me."

"You are a strong person," he insisted. "Jus’ seems like you din’t quite know what you wanted. Din’t realize you wouldn’t miss it ‘till it was gone."

"That doesn’t make me weak?" she countered.

"No," he said with a small smile. "It just makes you a bit confused. Like everyone else, luv."

"You, too?" she asked, biting her lip. "’Cause you seem pretty confident in what you want." Her lips couldn’t help but quirk into a smile at that.

"You’re the exception that disproves the rule, luv," he whispered softly, his eyes ducking beneath long lashes. "When ‘m with you ‘s just…clear, y’know?"

She caught his chin in her palm and tilted his head downward to face her. "Yeah, I know," she agreed softly, resting her forehead against his. A contented hum seemed to vibrate through her body in response to even this most innocent of touches.

Then, she sighed and pulled away, the spell broken for the moment. "We’d better get home and bandage that hand of yours," she said with a shy little smile, taking his good hand and leading him back along the path…

With a contented little murmur, Elizabeth drifted back into consciousness, snuggling deeper into the warm arms that held her. They tightened around her in response, pulling her even more firmly against the strong chest that was spooned against her back.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

And then Elizabeth’s eyes jerked open in alarm. Wait a minute! What warm arms?!

She had a brief panic attack before she noticed that she was, in fact, still dressed, as was the man behind her. The initial fear fading, memories from the night before slowly came back to her. Her and Spike going out to the lake, laughing, talking, having fun, and then finally coming back here so that she could bandage his wounds. The conversation they’d started up about their parents and their futures that had gone on past one, two, three, four, five in the morning. Her yawning and shivering from weariness and both of them jokingly suggesting every so often that she should really go back to her room so that they could both sleep. But then neither of them wanting the evening to end, so they’d stay and talk just a little bit longer…

With a satisfied little smile, she remembered Spike finally pulling her under the blankets with him - just for warmth’s sake, of course - and the two of them lying in his bed, side-by-side as their conversation continued. Fragments of their conversation were coming back to her now…

Spike informing her that he didn’t bother to protest that his parents still called him ‘William’ after his dad’s "I don’t bloody well care if you go about calling yourself the Queen of England, but no parent anywhere will ever be able to address their son as ‘Spike’ without grimacing!" speech.

In a moment of honesty that she’d never even shared with Willow and Tara, she confessed that she was afraid that her father would leave her altogether if she didn’t meet up with his expectations.

And, finally, just as the sun began shinning through the curtains, Spike had lain his head down on the pillow and shut his eyes "just for a quick rest."

Apparently they’d both fallen asleep…in each other’s arms.

Elizabeth managed to turn on the narrow bed so that she was facing him. He let out the first murmurs of waking as his head found a new pillow in the curve of her neck, his arms still clasping her to him tightly.

"Spike," she whispered softly, gently stroking his hair. "You awake?"

"Mmm," he hummed sleepily before letting out an impressive yawn against her throat. "Mmm," this was murmured with a frown, "what time is it, luv?"

She glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "One," she said with a grimace.

"In the mornin’?" he inquired hopefully.

"Yeah, the sun shines in the middle of the night now," she teased lightly.

"Humph," he grumbled, sliding up so that his head lay beside hers on the pillow, his face only inches from hers, "guess who’s grumpy in the mornin’s?"

"Hmm," she agreed with a little smile, "guess who has bed-hair in the mornings?" Her fingers toyed with the platinum curls that had transformed into a tangled mess over the night.

He groaned. "Not like you’re much better," he countered with a little smirk.

"Mmm," she agreed, patting down her hair and sitting up as she did so.

"Goin’ somewhere, luv?" he asked, instantly bereft.

"Yeah," she agreed, "to do all the homework I was supposed to do today."

He batted one hand in the air dismissively. "Homework’s overrated," he insisted. "Come back here. You’re all warm an’ comfortable…" There was a little forlorn tone in his voice.

She gave him an apologetic smile. "I really do have stuff to do," she insisted. "I shouldn’t have stayed up so late."

"’S Saturday," he insisted firmly. "You’ve still got plenty ‘f time for work." One arm wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her back to him, his cheek gently nuzzling her thigh.

"Yeah," she said wistfully, stroking his hair a couple more times before snapping to attention. "I mean, no."

He gave her a pleading little look.

"I have a bitch pre-lab from hell," she explained, "and Willow’s not going to be around tomorrow to help me with it."

He let out a weary sigh and sat up as well. "At least let me walk you out then?" he requested with a bemused smile.

"It’s all of, like, five feet," she laughed.

"’S worth it," he decided, extricating himself from his blankets and walking over to the door.

She followed him with a nervous little blush, her eyes studiously observing the floor. "I, yeah," she brushed aside an errant lock of hair as she lingering in the doorway, reluctant to leave. "I had a really good time," she finally managed to get out before slapping herself in the forehead. "That was idiotic," she said apologetically. "Sorry."

He chuckled and leaned back against the other side of the doorframe. "Yeah, well I did ‘ave a good time, so ‘m not complainin’," he countered with his usual cocky smirk.

She gave him an annoyed eye roll. "You have got to be the most annoying, obnoxious…" she began.

"Guess this isn’t a good time to ask you out tonight then, is it?" he teased.

Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed. "Uh, tonight?" she said with a delighted little smile. "Yeah! I mean, sure," she tried to make the last statement sound cool and disinterested and failed miserably.

"Thought we could maybe catch dinner an’ a movie?" he asked hopefully.

"Great!" she said, smiling up at him.

"Unless, I mean, you jus’ wanna come back here an’ sleep with me again," he teased, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Pig," she batted his arm fondly. "Ooh, and did I mention infuriating and rude and arrogant and…" She leaned in close up against his chest.

"Pet?" he asked with that shy little smile.

"Yeah?" she looked up into those beautiful eyes of his.

"Y-You had a good time?" he asked nervously.

"A really good time," she insisted before rising up on her toes and, gently, briefly, brushing her lips up against his warm, soft ones.

She pulled away almost immediately, but then he caught her roughly about the waist, spun them around so that her back was pressed to the wall of the hallway, and proceeded to give her the best kiss of her life.

She moaned against his demanding lips, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer… His tongue flicked out to trace the line between her lips, encouraging her to part them for him. She gladly did so, whimpering when his tongue plunged deep inside her mouth, tasting, caressing, making love…

Her own tongue stroked his languidly, savoring the taste of smoke and chocolate and purely masculine Spike. He made a growling sound against her lips in response, pressing her more firmly against the wall, lifting her up…

Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, holding him to her, surrounding his body completely as her hands explored the strong lines of his back…

The kiss probably could have gone on forever if breathing hadn’t been an issue. Reluctantly, Spike finally pulled back from the fiery kiss, panting desperately for air.

For a long while, the only sounds in the hallway were his pants together with Elizabeth’s ragged gasps. Slowly, he let her slide back down his body so that she stood on her shaky feet once more.

Lips still swollen from the passion that had just blossomed between them, Elizabeth looked up into the cerulean depths of his eyes and uttered just one word.

"Wow."

He gave her a smirk, although it was only a shadow of his usual one; the aftereffects of their kiss still had him slightly stunned. "’ll pick you up at six then?" he inquired.

She nodded dumbly, still out of breath. "It’s a date," she agreed.

He gave her a wide, genuinely happy smile at that. "See you then, luv," he said, brushing back that one persistently errant lock of her hair before he vanished back into his room.

Elizabeth stared at the closed door for a time, still - unbelievably - panting, before she turned to go down the hall…and quickly noticed that they’d had an audience.

"Way to go, E!" Faith said with a wide grin on her face. "Had a nice, active evening, I see…"

Elizabeth flushed slightly. "Believe it or not," she confessed, "that was our first kiss."

Faith laughed. "And you’re not rushing back for seconds right now?" she teased. "Because that was a doozy."

"It was nice enough," Elizabeth shrugged, trying to maintain her cool in the situation.

"Uh-huh," Faith gave her a disbelieving look. "Only ‘nice’?"

Elizabeth didn’t waver from her position.

"If you say so," Faith shrugged, before a nasty little smile crossed her face. "Oh, and Elizabeth?" she added, right before closing her door again.

"Yeah?" Elizabeth turned from where she’d continued to walk down the hall.

"Your room’s that way," Faith pointed in the opposite direction Elizabeth had been walking, giggling slightly as she closed the door.

"Oh, yeah," Elizabeth’s half-zoned mind finally remembered where her room was, and she turned back down the hallway.

Willow looked up at her in relief when she walked in. "Oh, thank the goddess," she put a hand to her heart. "You didn’t come back last night, and at first I thought you were with Riley, but then I saw…" She gestured the Elizabeth’s bed that still held her discarded white dress, Kleeneces, and chocolate - sure signs of the dumped woman. "A-And I thought… Are you all right?" Willow asked worriedly.

"Better than all right," Elizabeth said with the beginnings of a giddy little smile on her face. "And you’ll never guess where I spent the night…"

* * *

To say that Elizabeth had had difficulty concentrating that evening would be an understatement. In fact, Willow had had to snap her fingers in front of Elizabeth’s face several times when the ability to do simple multiplication had failed her. Willow didn’t seem to mind, however, giggling and teasing Elizabeth about "sleeping with a guy on the first date." And, eventually and quite amazingly, the pre-lab had gotten done.

With nothing better to do for the next two hours, Elizabeth had alternated between trying hopelessly to focus on her history book long enough to actually read more than one sentence and rummaging through her wardrobe, reevaluating whether the dress she’d chosen for tonight would be the best one.

When Spike finally knocked on her door at 5:35 - apparently, he couldn’t wait, either - she finally discovered the reason why she’d instinctively liked the azure blue dress she and Anya had found while shopping last weekend.

Spike had made this little gulping motion and had had a rather difficult time keeping his eyes off of her the entire way to the restaurant.

The restaurant itself had turned out to be just a small little Greek place with only half a dozen or so tables. Their little corner table was small enough that their knees brushed beneath it, but neither of them minded. In fact, with a surprising bout of playfulness, Elizabeth had slipped one of her shoes off and run her toe languidly down the back of his calf. He had practically choked to death on his water in response, and she proceeded to thump him on the back and laugh.

But the food had been exquisite, and the company had been even more exquisite.

Elizabeth really had known the name of the movie when they’d entered the campus cinema; she was sure of it. However, halfway through the previews, she’d lost interest when she found something much more fascinating to occupy her time. Really, that soft, pale skin along Spike’s throat had just been calling to her. And who was she to refuse?

Spike bit back a moan when her warm lips descended on his throat. But, with a little smile, he decided to just keep on trying to watch the movie and see what she would do.

Quickly frustrated by the severe lack of kisses she was receiving in response, Elizabeth resorted to dirty tactics, running her hand right up and down his thigh.

Within a minute, Spike was squirming in his seat, trying to find some way to loosen the sudden tightness of his pants. He cast an annoyed look over at Elizabeth, and she responded with a devilish smile.

His face mirrored her expression, and her eyes widened in alarm when he suddenly pounced upon her, his fingers in her hair and his lips forcefully upon hers.

By the time the movie was over, neither of them had any idea what it was about. In fact, one of the students who helped run the place had to tap Spike on the shoulder and bemusedly inform the startled couple that the movie had ended. Elizabeth knew she should have been embarrassed, but making out with Spike in the dark like a couple of horny high-school students had been so much fun that she didn’t care.

They kept their arms wrapped around each other the entire walk back to the dorm, occasionally stopping to steal a quick kiss. Elizabeth sighed against the crook of his neck and breathed in his musky scent as they reached the top of the staircase. She didn’t think she’d ever been this happy, and she knew she’d never just let herself go and gotten washed up this much in the passion before.

"I get to come in, right?" Elizabeth toyed with the soft white hair at the nape of his neck as he unlocked the door.

"Mmm," he agreed, giving her a quick, open-mouthed kiss on the lips, "was hopin’ you’d say that…"

What inevitably would’ve become another make-out fest was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Willow and Tara in the hallway. Tara instantly broke out giggling at the sight of the two of them so wrapped up in each other, but Willow raised a demanding eyebrow.

"You haven’t been drinking again, have you?" she demanded of Spike sternly, taking in the slightly glazed look in his eyes.

"No," he quickly shook his head, expression turning from lust-filled to downright serious instantly. "Just enjoyin’ natural highs…" he added with a sly wink, gesturing for Elizabeth to enter.

She managed a little blush at getting caught right when they were going back to his room, and Willow and Tara both giggled now that Willow had made sure there was nothing to worry about.

"Be mindful of the thin walls!" Tara couldn’t resist calling after them. "I’m sure Xander can hear everything you do in there!"

Elizabeth and Spike both blushed and closed the door behind them. "What do they think?" Elizabeth demanded, sitting on the edge of his bed and removing her shoes before slipping under the covers. "That we’re just going to leap in bed together?"

Spike couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the statement given the current position she was in. "Yeah, ‘cause we’re obviously not doin’ that," he teased, kicking away his own boots before crawling in beside her.

Elizabeth shifted until she was comfortable in his arms before mock-pouting. "I meant the naked, sweaty kind of jumping into bed," she clarified, "not the cuddly, necking, ‘rapidly running around second base’ kind of jumping into bed."

"Oh, so necking’s allowed then?" Spike teased, leaning in to taste the soft hollow of her throat.

"Mmm," she moaned softly, her hands finding his back and slowly tracing the line of his spine up and down. Cautiously, she untucked his t-shirt and let the fingers of one hand slip up beneath it, finally feeling the smooth, muscled expanse that had called to her so often in the past.

He let out a little groan at the feel of his hot little hands on his feverish skin and began slowly petting her in response, his hand trailing up and down her side, just barely missing the swell of her breast on each upstroke. His touch was so light against the soft fabric of her dress that it was almost ephemeral - an electric charge that raced through her nerves without physical form.

"Mmm, Spike…" she whispered against his ear.

He turned from where his teeth were doing absolutely wondrous things to her earlobe in response, looking right into her hazel eyes. He brushed his lips against her kiss-swollen ones once before backing off to look at her again. "Yeah, luv?" he said with a little smile.

"Any chance," she asked shyly, "that the shirt can go?"

He chuckled at that. "Want to ogle my manliness, huh, pet?" he teased.

"Yup," she said matter-of-factly, allowing the P to make a popping sound in her mouth as she said it.

His cheeks reddened slightly in response, and he gave her another quick kiss. "’ll do it if you will," he finally requested.

"Mmm-mmm," Elizabeth shook her head. "See, that wouldn’t be fair since all I’m wearing is this dress."

"So?" he gave her a lascivious little smirk.

She rolled her eyes up at him. "So, I would be pretty much completely naked, and you would be only half-naked," she informed him. "Grossly unfair."

"Could lose the slacks too, if you wanted," he teased, rolling his tongue up beneath his teeth.

"Given the goings on in your pants during that movie, I’d say keeping the zipper up is a good idea for tonight," Elizabeth joked back just as mercilessly.

He sulked for a minute before a sudden light went on behind his eyes. "How ‘bout we stick to my original deal," he offered, "but you get to flip right over onto your stomach an’ then ‘ll give you a full back massage…"

Elizabeth licked her lips. "Deal," she agreed instantly, reaching for the hem of her dress.

He stilled her hand. "Can I?"

"Only if I can first," she decided.

He nodded, and she sat up beside him, her hands quickly moving to the loosened hem of his shirt. She slowly slid her fingers up underneath it, tracing the strong muscular lines as she did so. He let out a sound halfway between a moan and a howl in response, and a purely feminine smile crossed her face at the effect she had on him. And then an even wider one when his shirt fell to the floor, and she finally got to touch that chest she’d been dreaming about for so long.

He hissed at the feel of her tongue on his flesh, its rough caresses causing his own muscles to quiver beneath it. He let his own hands slip beneath her dress, pushing it up to her waist just as her mouth latched onto one flat, male nipple, twisting it gently between her teeth.

His hips thrust up into hers in involuntary response, and they pulled back for a second, both their eyes wide.

"Um, sorry," he flushed apologetically at the quite obvious bulge her actions had created.

She gave him a smile and a quick kiss. "It’s OK," she assured him. "Nice to know exactly what I need to do if I ever want instant gratification," she teased.

"For you, tha’s pretty much anything," he joked back before pulling her dress up over her head.

Now it was her turn to blush. "Um, yeah…" She quickly lay down on the bed on her stomach, brushing her blond locks all over one shoulder to give him better access to her back.

He scootched over alongside her before slowly kneading into her muscles, starting at the base of her spine just above the waistline of her little black panties.

She let out soft, little murmurs as his skilled hands quickly turned all her bones to Jell-O. A sense of lazy contentment passed over her, making her feel safe and warm, like the world had turned entirely to sweet honey… "God, how do you do that?" she gasped in awe.

"’S a skill," he said with a wry grin before leaning over to whisper right in her ear. "’ve just got…the touch, luv…"

"Hmm…" she couldn’t help but agree, a very naughty voice in the back of her head wondering what a frontal massage from him would feel like…not to mention an internal one… "Spike?" she whispered lazily, enjoying the easy comfort she had with this man.

"Yeah, pet?" he asked curiously.

"Wanna play a game?" she suggested.

"Sure," he shrugged. "What is it?"

She turned over onto her back, pulling the blanket over her chest as she did so. "We ask each other questions," she explained, sitting up so that her back was against the wall. "But you have to answer whatever question the other person asks right after they do. The point is that, well, we both know more about ourselves than the other person knows, so we know what questions they should ask, right?" She was babbling a bit but didn’t really care. After all, she was a bit nervous about what she wanted to tell him.

He didn’t seem mind her babbling, however. He slipped under the blanket as well and sat beside her against the wall. "OK, kitten," he agreed, planting a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder.

"Great," she gave him a nervous little smile, "so I’ll go first… Why don’t you drink?"

"I take it these aren’t gonna be easy questions, huh?" he teased before sighing and leaning his head back against the wall. "Last year I got dumped real bad," he finally began. "Like, ‘cheated on me, fucked with my head every way she could, tried to make me as miserable as possible’ kinda dumped. An’…I din’t really handle it too gracefully. Quickly figured out that alcohol made the problems go away, an’ went straight off the deep end."

She found his hand beneath the blanket and gave it a reassuring little squeeze.

He gave her a grateful little smile in response. "Turned into somethin’ of a drunk, got myself into all sorts of trouble both academic and otherwise…"

She fingered the scar on his eyebrow curiously.

"Yeah, like that," he agreed with a sigh. "Eventually, got off the stuff, got my friends and family to keep me off ‘f it - and in a serious way, not in a ‘yeah, keep pesterin’ me to quit smoking’ way." He gave her a little smile. "Haven’t touched the stuff in over six months now."

She gave him a quick kiss in response. "I still beat you," she informed him.

He gave her a curious look. "AA meetin’s or what?"

She winced. "Never drank much," she explained to him, "just, y’know, casually…at parties."

He nodded for her to continue.

"So, at our senior prom, my ex manages to sneak in some liquor," she wrapped her arms around herself as the images of that night played before her mind’s eye. "Well, all the ‘popular’ kids have to drink it, of course, so I just go along with them, accept the glass from my ex without thinking twice…" She took a deep breath and blinked back the tears in her eyes. "It took me about ten minutes to realize that he’d…put something in the drink…"

"Oh, god…" Spike’s face looked white as a sheet when he realized what she was saying.

"Yeah," she managed something halfway between a sob and a laugh, "one of those date-rape drugs you always hear about. It was pretty scary - I mean, I could see what was happening around me, but it was really fuzzy, y’know? Like I had no control over my body."

Her grip on his hand was practically bruising by now, but he didn’t even think to let go.

"So, he drags me out into the hallway and forces me down onto my knees and starts to, y’know, unzip, and I can’t do anything about it." She actually broke into a sob at this point, and instantly his arms were around her, holding her close.

"Shh," he whispered softly, "you don’t have ta…"

"I want to," she insisted, rubbing at her eyes. "It gets better after that. Before he could…y’know, the principal walks out of the dance and catches us and…" Another little sob. "God, if he hadn’t been there!" she whimpered at the thought.

Spike felt his own eyes tearing up as well just at the thought of anyone ever hurting this beautiful, powerful, wonderful woman in his arms. "What happened after that?" he ventured to ask once she seemed calmed down again.

"Snyder had us both suspended for underage drinking and ‘lewd behavior’," she sighed. "He didn’t know what he’d broken up."

"You din’t have him arrested?!" Spike demanded, furious that this monster was still walking the streets.

"I-I couldn’t," Elizabeth insisted raggedly. "I couldn’t tell anyone." She let out a deep breath. "This ex of mine was from a very influential family and…you just didn’t mess with those people. I would’ve been the victim again before it was over."

"There wasn’t anythin’ you could do?" he whispered into her hair.

"I got enough of a reputation for being frigid just from the way I reacted to him later," she whispered against his shoulder. "I never told anyone…until I came here. W-Willow and Tara know that something happened, but…" She looked up at him hesitantly. "You’re the first person I’ve wanted to tell the whole story to."

His thumb slowly traced the curve of her cheek, wiping at her tears. "Wish I could do somethin’ to make it go away, luv," he finally said apologetically, touched by her admission, "but I don’ know how…"

"You could start by giving me a kiss," she suggested softly.

He leaned in to brush his lips against hers in response, his lips and tongue caressing her lips in the most tender, gentle touches she’d ever felt. He pulled away slowly after a minute, opening his eyes again to look deep into hers.

"It was a while ago," she said softly, managing the smallest of smiles. "I don’t know if it will ever go away, but you…you remind me that all men aren’t like that," she admitted shyly. "So," she finished lamely, "that’s why I don’t drink anymore. Your question."

He sat back and sighed, accepting her subject change. "On another light note," he began wryly, "what’s the worst you’ve ever been dumped?"

Elizabeth grimaced. "You’d better have something really bad…" she began.

"Trust me," he nodded, "you won’t even believe it."

"OK," she sighed. "Uh…I think I’ve got a tie."

"’S allowed," he agreed with a pained little smile.

"OK, boyfriend number one," Elizabeth began. "Same winner I just told you about, went by Angel of all the ironic things he could have picked…"

Spike scoffed. "Bloody pillock."

She managed a little smile and rested her head on his shoulder. "I have no idea what that means, but if it’s insulting to Angel, then it’s good. So," she continued her story, "Angel’s the captain of the football team, and I’m the bouncy head cheerleader named Buffy."

Spike gave her an incredulous look. "Are you kiddin’ me, Summers?"

"Nope," she winced and shook her head. "I actually went by Buffy till I came here. Are you scared yet?" she joked lightly.

"You’re stickin’ with ‘Lizabeth now though, right?" he teased back.

"Don’t worry," she reassured him. "I’ve come to my senses. So, anyway, Angel and Buffy do what normal football players and cheerleaders are supposed to do and start dating. Like, dumb, shallow, ‘we’re vapid stereotypes’ type of dating." She grimaced. "God, what was I thinking?" she shook her head. "So, Angel invites Buffy to the junior prom, as opposed to the senior prom when he tries to assault her. They dance to sappy love songs, make inane conversation, before going home and doing what you’re supposed to do after prom back at Angel’s house because his parents are out of town. The funny thing happens next Monday in school when Angel’s suddenly moved onto his next conquest now that he’s gotten everything he wanted out of Buffy. Turns out that was all he was interested in…"

"I’m going to kill this kid," Spike announced vehemently.

Elizabeth sighed. "Don’t bother. He knocked up the daughter of the Cartwrights. There was this huge scandal right after I got here. Shotgun wedding and everything. And I can’t think of any worse punishment than being stuck under Daddy Cartwright’s thumb for eternity." She shivered. "The man is a dictator."

"’d still approve of an ‘and then everyone beat the shit outta that wanker’ endin’," Spike insisted, his brow still furrowed.

She hushed him softly, running her fingers over the sharps lines of his face until his expression relaxed under her caresses. "It’s over," she insisted. "That girl is gone now. I’m a new person now, with a new life." She smiled as she took in his handsome features before placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "And I’m really starting to like how this new life is turning out…"

The one kiss multiplied to five, ten, and twenty, and before long they’d fallen back to the mattress again, Elizabeth’s body practically on top of his as she continued to explore his face and chest.

"Cor!" Spike moaned. "You’re so beautiful, luv. So perfect…" His hand reached up to cup one lace-covered breast, and he kneaded it gently in his palm, trying in some way to return the wonderful sensations she was bestowing upon him.

"Mmm," she eventually came to rest on his chest in lazy contentment, a wide catlike yawn stretching her face. "You’re so cuddly…" She buried her head in his shoulder.

" ‘Cuddly’?" he repeated, manhood mildly offended. "’ll have you know that ‘m the biggest, badest-"

"Kitty-cat," she cut him off with a giggle before sliding one hand over his bare chest to find one of his dusty-rose nipples. She traced its soft outlines with her thumbnail as she continued. "All fierce and clawed at first and then all sweet and kittenish once you get your tummy rubbed - absolutely perfect boyfriend material."

"’m your boyfriend?" Spike couldn’t help but grin despite the series of poofy descriptions she’d just given to him.

"No, I’m half-naked in your bed because I hate you," she retorted with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, ‘cause that’s the only other option," he bit right back. "There is this thing called ‘casual sex’, y’know."

"There would have to actually be sex for it to be casual," she couldn’t resist taunting him. "Besides," she added more softly, "you don’t tell your deepest, darkest secrets to someone who you don’t even want to see the morning after. Believe me, I know…"

"Why do I ‘ave the feelin’ we’re back to the not-so-pleasant past?" Spike asked rhetorically before frowning. "You mind if I have a fag?"

She gave him a dirty little look before sighing. "As long as it keeps you from getting all fidgety and moving," she finally agreed. "Because I don’t want my pillow to go anywhere." She wrinkled her brow. "And, as long as that wasn’t some kind of strange hint that you’re actually gay," she teased.

He rolled his eyes at that. "What part ‘f the beast in my pants did you not feel at the movie?" he countered with a wry grin before his expression softened. "Here, ‘ll even open the window," he assured her, reaching over to pull it up a crack before the snatched the cigarettes and matches from the nightstand and lit up.

She looked up at him, watching the little glint of ecstasy in his eyes when he first breathed in the warm smoke, followed by renewed calm as he blew it back out. She’d always thought smoking was a disgusting habit before, but the way Spike did it made it look so sexy, and the taste it left on his tongue was absolutely perfect, completely and utterly Spike…

"Parker Abrahms was the tie," she finally finished answering his question. "Him college boy, me high-school girl just recently dumped and trying to prove she was over Angel. Casual sex occurred. I didn’t know it was casual until the morning after…mostly because Parker forgot to mention it at the time." She laughed a bit harshly. "So, after that, I guess you can see why Riley looked like such a delightful prospect…"

"Hell, I’d date him now," Spike teased, tapping off the ash that had formed at the end of his cigarette into the tray before bringing the smoke back to his lips.

"You’re sure you’re not gay?" she teased lightly.

He let out a low growl and quickly stamped the cigarette out before catching her about the waist with both hands and twisting her beneath him.

She moaned when his hard, strong body covered hers, pressing her down into the soft mattress, and he took advantage of the opportunity to plunge his tongue deep into her mouth possessively. His hands caressed her fevered flesh in the most wonderful ways imaginable while his hips slowly undulated against hers, the zipper of his jeans grinding against the cotton of her panties, stimulating little cries of pleasure from her.

He let her get nice and wound up and breathless before he abruptly stopped, his own erection throbbing in need as he rolled off of her. Point proven, though. "Convinced ‘f my manhood now, luv?" he asked with a sly little smirk.

She just gulped, her body still flushed and her panties quite soaked at how perfect it had felt to have him on top of her, grinding into her… Woah, calm down, her rational mind insisted. You’ve been together with this guy, what? All of two days? Definitely not a good idea to go all the way yet…

"Yeah," she finally managed to say with a husky exhale, "I’m convinced."

He was smiling at her when she rolled onto her side to face him, his own face red from the intensity of what they’d just done. "My turn now?" he asked simply.

"Turn?" she was still a little bit dazed.

"To answer my question," he clarified.

"Oh, yeah…right," she remembered. "Yeah, go on," she agreed. "What’s the worst you’ve even been dumped?"

He let his head flop down to the pillow with a sigh and closed his eyes. "You heard ‘f Dru?" he finally asked, eyes still shut tight.

"I’ve heard her mentioned," Elizabeth agreed. "She used to live here or something. And I kinda got the impression that you and she had this thing…"

"A ‘thing’," he repeated with a wry chuckle. "Nice way ‘f puttin’ it." The lines of his face hardened as he began. "Drusilla Claremont was a senior my first year. Got one good look at me, the innocent young freshman, and decided that I was the one for her. See, she was a creative writing major - really sick, dark stuff - an’ constantly needed to have a ‘muse’ to keep her goin’."

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. "This really sounds like the plot of some bad movie," she informed him.

He let out a little snort of laughter and blinked open his eyes for a second to look at her before closing them again. "Wouldn’t surprise me," he agreed. "Dru was a little…unstable. Brilliant, but most fickle thing ‘ve ever encountered. And, of course, I was fool enough to think that this was all hopelessly romantic at the time."

"Here comes the nasty ‘but’, am I right?" Elizabeth winced slightly, stroking his chest softly throughout the tale.

"Was just li’l hints at first," Spike sighed, eyes squeezed shut tight as if he were seeing his story transpire on the backs of his eyelids. "She’d show me the stuff she’d written, all depressin’, angsty, dark stuff, with me her ‘pristine, white angel’. And then she started puttin’ little details in her stories, really craftily done, makin’ me wonder if she was cheatin’ on me or if I was just gettin’ paranoid. I didn’t wanna believe it, of course, so I just figured I was readin’ it wrong. So, then she starts askin’ me about all the suspicious passages, tryin’ to get a response." He let out a weary sigh. "God, I was so naïve… Well, the just of all ‘f this was that she wanted to completely devastate me…for art’s sake, of course. She finally resorted to gettin’ your own dear ex drunk off his ass at a frat party, draggin’ him back here to my room while I was out, and…"

"Oh, god, Spike…" Elizabeth put a hand to her mouth in horror. How anyone could have such persistent, cruel maliciousness was beyond her.

"Fed Cap’n Cardboard some cock’n’bull story ‘bout how I was stalkin’ her, stirred up this huge fuss. That was before she threatened to call the police an’ say I’d raped her. And then, when that one got old, she decided to hint to me that she’d managed to pass a particularly nasty, deadly, an’ incurable form of VD to me."

Elizabeth froze at that one, stunned. It would explain a few things, though. Like, why her little joke about syphilis hadn’t been taken in the good-humor she’d meant it as.

"Worst week of my life was the one I spent waitin’ for those hospital tests to come back," he shivered even under the blankets and with the warmth of her body surrounding him. "’Course, I s’pose I should’ve known that it’d just be another of her mind fucks." A little sob choked through him, then. "Guess I was a good muse, though, since her accounts ‘f my personal agony were enough to get her a job at some S&M magazine in France. She actually had the nerve to send me a copy of her first issue this summer. Mum an’ dad and I had a nice little bonfire party with it." A tear rolled down his cheek.

She stopped its descent with her lips, tasting the salt of his pain. "Spike…" she whispered softly against his hair before gently peppering his face with light kisses. She had never felt like this before, never had such an overwhelming desire to just hold someone forever and make everything better…

His lips found hers, and they shared several sweet kisses. "Two people with the most emotional baggage in the world end up together," he joked lightly. "What’re the odds?"

She managed a little laugh. "I’m sure there are worse. But, god…" She still didn’t know what to say.

Which was all right because he still hadn’t figured out what to say to her stories, either. "Will you stay with me tonight?" he finally asked softly, shyly.

"Yeah," she agreed, burying her head in his chest and holding him close. "I don’t think I want to be alone tonight, either…"

Chapter Fifteen

"I don’t know how to explain it," Elizabeth said with that same grin that had been plastered across her face for the past two weeks still lighting up her face. "Sometimes it seems like everything just happened so fast," she admitted, "and I get worried that I’ve just dived right in. But, then, when I really think about it, I realize that our relationship has been building steadily ever since we met. I mean, I was technically dating Riley, but Spike and I were definitely going through the first few steps. So, when you look at it like that, we’re actually going really slowly."

"Especially since you still haven’t managed to have sex," Anya said, bored, leafing through a magazine as she lay on her stomach sprawled across one of the couches in Spike’s living room.

Willow rolled her eyes at Anya before turning her attention back to Elizabeth. She’d had quite a time trying to get a hold of her roommate without a certain peroxide blond present, and she planned on taking full advantage of what gossip time they had.

"But serious smoochies, right?" Willow demanded. "Well, obviously," she shook her head, "but beyond the serious smoochies we’ve seen?"

"Serious smoochies," Elizabeth agreed, laughing slightly at Willow’s characteristically unique way to phrasing things. "Firmly on third base serious smoochies."

"So you have had orgasms then?" This seemed to interest Anya, and she turned to face the other two women for the first time. "Many orgasms?"

Elizabeth blushed furiously. "He has…talented hands," she said elusively.

"And do you have ‘talented hands’, too?" Willow couldn’t help but tease.

Elizabeth’s face went from red to maroon in response. "Well, that’s certainly…something…" She buried her head in her hands, embarrassed beyond belief.

"He has a very large penis, doesn’t he?" Anya commented. "I’m trying to get a look at Xander’s, but he never gets conveniently drunk for me to check it out."

Elizabeth shot her a worried look.

"Don’t worry," Anya quickly reassured her. "I got Spike drunk way back before he quit. Reminding him of it frequently keeps him on the straight and narrow."

Elizabeth merely shook her head. The amazing was that despite the contorted logic that Anya operated under, the world still managed to work out. It was actually kind of impressive once you got used to the all manner of strange statements that came from the young woman’s mouth.

"So," Willow turned back to the important matter of wheedling as much information out of her roommate as she could, "last weekend when you didn’t come back to our room once…"

Elizabeth flashed her a delighted little smile. "Spike’s bed is Spike-scented and warm," she joked in the most simplistic voice she could manage.

Willow laughed at that. "But just smoochies, huh?" she demanded.

"Very, very nice smoochies," Elizabeth corrected. "Toe-curling, earth-shattering, lightning-striking, world’s-coming-to-an-end smoochies."

"And you still aren’t tempted to have sex?" Anya asked incredulously.

"Didn’t say I wasn’t tempted," Elizabeth answered with a sly smile.

"Ooh!" Anya and Willow both exclaimed in unison, sitting bolt upright.

"Spill!" Willow quickly demanded.

Elizabeth shrugged. "We’ve just, y’know…talked about it," she admitted shyly.

"Just talked?" Anya sounded horribly disappointed. "What’s wrong with Spike anyway? He should be ravishing you right now so that I can mooch vicariously off of your orgasms…" She tried to affect a pout, but an amused little smile kept creeping through.

"We just want to be ready…" Elizabeth said evasively.

"Always a good idea," Willow agreed with an approving smile. "Make sure you’re nice and comfortable…"

"And then, mmm, Spike…" Elizabeth agreed, letting her head flop onto the couch back, her eyes closed as she let out a sensual little murmur.

"Know I just heard my name mentioned," Spike picked that moment to return to the room, followed closely by Oz and then Joyce.

"Hope you girls didn’t mind me stealing your men," Joyce said with an amused glint in her eye.

"Not an issue," Willow retorted, earning several laughs.

"Just so long as you brought them back in one piece," Elizabeth agreed, her hand casually brushing against Spike’s thigh as he sat down on the couch beside her.

They’d been rather openly public about their relationship ever since Elizabeth had intentionally sat down next to Spike that first Monday morning even though half the chairs at the table were empty, and the two of them had shared furtive little smiles. Anya had blinked, frowned, and then asked loudly enough that the whole school had probably heard, "Are you two having sex?!" Bothering to be discreet after that had been pointless, and they’d pretty much been joined hip-to-hip everywhere they went ever since.

Spike had even gone so far as to follow her to her English class on a couple of days, just so they could play footsie under the desks. Elizabeth’s English professor had just blinked at the sudden, random appearance of a punk kid in her class and gone right on with the discussion. And Elizabeth could honestly say that she’d never had a more fun class.

She’d quickly discovered that the number one plus (well, OK the number two plus since Spike himself was the number one plus) to being together with Spike was that she could still hang out with her friends in Westing House and hang out with him, too. Last weekend, all their ‘dates’ had been with the whole group, mostly stealing quick kisses when they thought no one was looking and getting teased by everyone who was delighted at this latest instance of ‘house-cest’.

Weekend nights had been spent cuddled up together in Spike’s bed, whispering little secrets to each other - although all of a more pleasant nature than their first ‘know what you’re getting into’ discussion. Weekdays were spent sprawled together on one of the couches in the lounge doing their homework together with the added incentive that once they were done, they got to go back to the kissing.

Spike had even invited her personally - as well as everyone in the house in general who was staying over break - to come have Thanksgiving dinner at his house in exchange for the small amounts of culinary labor Joyce asked of them in return.

All in all, they were fitting together absolutely perfectly as a couple - so perfectly that Elizabeth could hardly believe her luck.

But that didn’t mean they were quite ready to openly display their relationship before Spike’s mother yet. So, today had been full of casual touches and secret looks of longing. Elizabeth wasn’t complaining, though. The food had been delicious, they’d all mocked each other’s various culinary skills…or complete lack thereof, and Anya had ever had the commonsense not to mention the word ‘orgasm’ or ‘sex’ in association with Elizabeth and Spike in front of Joyce once. "I have tact," she’d teased. "I just usually choose not to use it."

However, as Elizabeth sat beside Spike now, the lazy effects of too much turkey slowly overtaking her and making her feel all warm and comfortable, she slowly let her head tilt to the side, coming to rest on Spike’s shoulder.

Joyce, for her part, didn’t even blink.

"We didn’t miss them doing any burly, did we?" Anya asked, reluctantly moving her feet so that Oz could sit at the other end of the couch.

"Very burly," Oz managed in a perfect monotone. "Manly stuff. Words like ‘carburetor’ and ‘axle grease’ came up."

Everyone present knew Oz well enough to catch the almost non-existent sarcastic tone in his voice and laughed.

"Just a little problem with the garage door," Joyce insisted. "I could fix it myself, but I figured I’d take advantage of the fact that no man in the history of the world has ever been able to resist playing with tools while I actually had some men around."

"It’s true," Oz agreed solemnly.

Spike merely smirked and rolled his eyes, a little surprised by the small blond head that still rested on his shoulder. He’d thought she wasn’t quite ready to face The Wrath Of MOM, but since she seemed to be unconcerned… He let his arm slip around her shoulders, holding her lightly against him.

"That was sooo good!" Willow announced for about the thousandth time, still leaning back and patting her stomach. "Thank you so much, Joyce. ‘Cause it was kinda this or dinning hall food for Thanksgiving…"

All the students shuddered in unison.

"Oh, you poor things," Joyce teased lightly. "They still feeding you moldy bread and dirty water?"

Elizabeth laughed. The one thing Spike and his mother seemed to share above all else was their quirky sense of humor. "At least mold has the basic nutrients necessary for survival," she joked right back.

"Well, I hope the rest of your friends back at the dorm got away for some good food, too," Joyce said, concerned. "Did they all go home?"

Willow nodded. "Jonathan and Devon did, at least," she agreed.

"Still can’t believe Devon actually went home," Oz blinked a couple of times. "Wow."

"He’s that nice young man that’s in your band, right?" Joyce inquired, taking a sip of hot cocoa. "He was here last year."

"Yeah," Spike agreed, "but I guess he just wanted to get away from this place for a while…"

Elizabeth flinched inwardly. The Devon/Faith break-up had become a rather permanent situation, she had discovered. Spike had had a better ear to the ground concerning the goings on of the couple, and apparently that weekend when the two of them had first kissed marked the end of the end for Devon and Faith. Elizabeth hadn’t even found it odd that the time that Faith had caught the two of them in the hall; she’d been too absorbed in a certain delicious peroxide blond to remember that Faith was supposed to be on the road with Devon and the rest of his band. It turned out that not only had Faith opted out of the ‘make-up’ trip, but she’d also acquired new male company in the interval. Devon had been pretty broken up about it…

As if reading her thoughts, Spike’s arms tightened around her shoulder in a comforting way, letting her know that he would hold on to this thing they had between them no matter what.

She looked up at him with a soft smile before returning to rest against his shoulder. Lazily, her fingers began to draw little patterns on his thigh, and he responded to her cryptic messages with his own ciphers, written against the cotton of her sweater.

"Who is this Jonathan?" Joyce asked curiously, surprised that she didn’t recognize a name. Spike tended to talk on and on about the people in the dorm to the point where Joyce was already convinced she knew them by the time they finally met.

"Freshman," Willow answered. "Really quiet. Keeps to himself mostly."

"You’re looking after him, aren’t you, dear?" Joyce frowned in a slightly maternal way, casting a quick glance in Spike’s direction. "Sometimes the loners are a lot more miserable than they let on…"

Elizabeth smiled inwardly. One of their late night confession sessions had provided her with the missing information to fully explain Joyce’s particular concern. She still couldn’t picture Spike as the quiet, bookish, and hopelessly socially inept youth from all his middle school stories, even though he still brought out the wire-rims for reading.

"I’m doing the best I can," Willow asked. "But he never seems to want to go on any of our house trips, so…" She shrugged. "I’ll just keep asking, so the opportunity’s open if he wants to take it."

"Knew you’d make the perfect RA," Joyce agreed with a little smile. "Where’s Xander?" she asked, casting a glance in Anya’s direction. Her son had made it quite apparent that he had high hopes that Xander and Anya would eventually get together. Given the way Anya’s attention instantly turned from her magazine to the conversation, Joyce decided they at least had a shot.

"He’s back home eating dinner with his other friends," Anya half-pouted. "Like, friends who aren’t us."

"I’m surprised he went home," Elizabeth agreed. "Although at least he’s not staying with his parents…"

Several winces passed through the crowd. To greater or lesser degrees, they’d all heard enough to figure out just how not nice growing up in the Harris home must have been.

"It’s good that he has friends to go back to, at least," Joyce decided.

"While we’re at it," Anya began, somewhat curiously, "what ever happened to Faith? I thought she was staying in town."

Willow’s brow furrowed slightly, and Oz blinked rapidly a few times. "I’m pretty sure she’s still here," Willow agreed, "but… I guess she’s hanging out with those rave friends of hers since she hasn’t been in the dorm all week…" She trailed off and studied to bottom of her mug intently. Faith had been worrying Willow more and more lately with her callous attitude towards academics and her even more callous one towards certain dangerous substances and the people that accompanied them.

Joyce seemed to sense the concern over the topic at hand and stood up with the polite smile of a good hostess. "Anyone want more hot chocolate?" she offered.

Five empty mugs were raised into the air in response, and Joyce laughed before returning to the kitchen.

"Having a good time, luv?" Spike whispered in Elizabeth’s ear, giving her golden hair a quick kiss now that the parental authority was gone.

"Mmm-hmm," she murmured contently, snuggling closer into his embrace.

"I’ve gotta admit," Anya commented with a sly little grin, "I didn’t think the two of you had it in you to keep it this PG for so long."

Spike cast her an annoyed look. "Yeah, ‘cause you can’t keep it suitable for minors and parents even though you’re not gettin’ any," he taunted.

"Humph," Anya sulked. "No need to rub it in." She quickly turned back to her magazine, only pausing briefly to stick her tongue out at Spike.

He returned the gesture only to have Elizabeth catch the tip of his tongue with her index finger before pushing it back into his mouth. He gave her a curious look.

"Don’t like to share your tongue’s talents," she teased with a little smile, blushing slightly at her memories of last night. After much hinting, Spike had finally discovered that he was allowed to cross certain barriers that he had thought unbreachable…and, oh, did his tongue thank her for the latest invitation…

"William!" Joyce’s voice abruptly called from the kitchen.

Both Spike and Willow started to attention before Willow caught the tail end of the name. She shrugged at Spike sheepishly; she just wasn’t used to thinking that his name started with ‘Will’ as well. Several confusions had already occurred that evening.

"Yeah, mum?" Spike called out, not wanting to get up from his comfy position snuggled against Elizabeth.

"Have you looked outside lately?" There was a smile in Joyce’s voice.

Spike’s brow furrowed slightly, and he mouthed ‘outside?’ to the room. Anya merely shrugged in response and got up to pull one of the closed drapes aside so that she could see out.

"Ooh!" she immediately exclaimed in delight. "It’s snowing!"

"Really?" Elizabeth’s curiously was piqued, and in an instant she’d escaped Spike’s clutches and was at Anya’s side. Her eyes widened at the soft blanket of white that had managed to cover everything in just the last couple of hours. Silvery flakes still swirled to the ground in eddies, glistening in the soft orange glow of the streetlights. "Wow…" she said breathlessly.

Spike chuckled behind her, slipping his arms casually around her waist and watching the sight over her shoulder. "California girl likes it, I take?" he teased lightly.

"It’s gorgeous," she agreed, turning back to look at him.

"Humph," he mock-pouted, "you used to say that ‘bout me. Should I be jealous?"

She gave him a playful bat on the arm, her eyes trained on the winter landscape outside. "I didn’t think it would snow this early," she commented in delight.

" ‘Early’?" Spike repeated incredulously. "This is actually pretty late. Usually ‘ave at least had flurries by now…"

Oz nodded solemnly. "Looks like pretty wet snow," he commented. "You know what that means we have to do…"

Elizabeth gave him a puzzled look.

"Snowball fight!" Willow squealed in delight, dashing over to the coat hanger and snatching up her jacket.

"You’d think she’d be less enthusiastic given how badly she always loses," Anya teased, grabbing her own coat as well and slipping into it.

"I’ll have you know that I fully intend to actually hit someone this year," Willow challenged, "and I’ve decided it’ll be you!"

Anya gave her an incredulous look. "In your dreams," she taunted right back. "That’s some death wish you’ve got there…or, at least, a permanently-frozen-and-wet wish…"

"Don’t mess with the girl who lived through Russian winters," Oz sagely advised Elizabeth before putting on his own jacket.

"C’mon, luv, it’ll be fun," Spike whispered in her ear.

"You’re just saying that so you can turn on me the minute we get outside," she accused.

He flashed her a ‘duh’ expression. "Well…yeah…"

She gave him a wry smile in response. "That skinny, white behind of yours is mine," she boasted.

"Well, there’s no denyin’ that…" he found the opportunity just too good to pass up.

She swatted at him absentmindedly before putting on her own jacket. And hat. And scarf. And gloves. Hey, she’d learned her lesson fast.

Spike persistently insisted on just a jacket and gloves, although he left his black leather duster behind - no sense in drenching such a fine garment, after all, and he had no doubts that Elizabeth would be merciless. Hell, it was one of the things that first drew him to her.

"Ground rules?" he asked as they stepped out into the snow.

"No holds barred," Anya announced with glee. Casually bending over and scooping up the first handful of snow. "Hey, Elizabeth?" she said with a wry grin.

"Yeah?" Elizabeth asked warily.

"Welcome to New York winters!"

And before Elizabeth even knew what had happened, a white, cold explosion hit her squarely in the chest. But it was still new enough that all she did was giggle in response.

Spike, however, let out a war-whoop at the slight to his lady’s honor and chased off after Anya, snatching up a handful of snow as he did so.

Willow chuckled, only to be the first victim to Oz’s silent attacks, and soon she was trudging through the snow, trying to catch up to him while he ducked behind various trees, evading all of Willow’s ill-timed attacks.

Elizabeth laughed and stuck to Willow’s back, deciding that the two of them, both uninitiated in the art of the snowball fight, should stick together. The tag-team effort of Willow chasing Oz around and throwing snowballs wildly while Elizabeth lurked in waiting finally got Elizabeth her first it, squarely on Oz’s thigh as he unknowingly ran past her position.

"Ha!" Elizabeth exclaimed in delight. "No one can defeat the combined might of Elizabeth and Will-"

Her boasting was cut off when a snowball nailed her right in the back. She turned wide-eyed to face Willow’s triumphant grin. "All’s fair in love and snowball fights," Willow simply shrugged.

"Traitor!" Elizabeth exclaimed in mock-outrage, throwing a misshapen lump of white at her former ally.

Willow laughed and ducked, although not fast enough.

Oz barraged her at the same time and quickly announced "Change of alliance!" as he and Elizabeth continued to chase the squealing Willow around the yard, all of them sliding like mad over the slippery traction of snow.

Anya and Spike, however, had no such difficulties. Both had become masters of the snowball fight during many blizzard-filled childhood winters, and they chased each other with a speed and grace that belied that the ground was a slippery hazard.

Perfectly rounded and weighted snowballs were formed at a moment’s notice, their ducks to acquire new ammunition not breaking either of their strides even once. Deadly accuracy accompanied each throw, followed quickly by a brilliant series of ducks and dodges.

Spike laughed and dove into a snowdrift when Anya seemingly turned on a dime, releasing half a dozen snowballs in such quick succession that he didn’t even have time to duck them all. Three hit him squarely in the chest as his rose up to his knees, shaking the snow that his head had dove into from his equally white hair.

"Amateur," Anya taunted, another snowball at the ready.

He looked up at her with a little growl only to get hit right over the heart once more. "You are so dead!" he announced with a little pounce.

Anya squealed when he caught her about the waist and then began squirming to get away once she realized where he was carrying her. "I swear I’ll sue!" she laughed, still struggling to escape. "This counts as assault, and…and property damage!" She gestured to her soaked jacket.

"Nice try," he gave her an evil little grin before grabbing the branch above them all pulling it slowly downwards before letting it snap back up.

The several inches of snow that had accumulated on the branch instantly flew up into the air only to land right on Anya’s head.

"Bastard!" she sulked when he finally let her go. She shook her head to get rid of the excess snow. And then a conspiratorial little smile lit up her face. "You’re a bad boyfriend, you know," she commented, watching the three combatants across the yard.

Spike turned to look at them curiously. Oz and Elizabeth had managed to maintain their alliance and were brutally assaulting Willow as she held up her mittened hands and laughed, trying to bat the barrage of snowballs away. "Looks like she’s doin’ all right," he countered, turning back to Anya.

With a malicious glint in her eye, Anya tossed her latest snowball from one hand to the other. "Look at her," she countered. "She’s nowhere near as wet as she could be." She frowned for a second. "And, amazingly, I didn’t mean that in the sexual way for once. Huh. Who would’ve thought?"

"You’re sayin’ we should show the newbees what a real snowball fight’s about?" Spike’s own grin turned several shades more wicked.

"I believe a certain redhead issued a challenge," Anya agreed as the two of them moved to sneak up on the unsuspecting trio…

"Elizabeth, help!" Willow cried out amidst her laughter.

"You made your bed," Elizabeth teased, "now you have to lie in it…"

Willow looked like she was about to say something, but then her eyes suddenly widened and she put one hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"What?" Elizabeth asked, perplexed.

The answer came in the form of icy cold at the back of her neck. She squealed in response and batted helplessly at the snow that Spike had just dropped under the collar of her jacket.

"You!" she exclaimed, wide-eyed, before she noticed the snowball that was still in her hand and used it to her full abilities.

Spike leapt gracefully to the side, avoiding the hit. "If I make my own bed," he teased, "will you lie in it with me?"

"Oh, you cocky, arrogant asshole!" she said with a smile on her face to indicate that the words didn’t mean anything. "You are sooo going down!"

"Gotta catch me first," he retorted, tongue curled up beneath his teeth in that overly-confident way that just made her want to kiss him breathless.

He dashed away right after this challenge, and she chased after him, noticing that he never bothered to get too far ahead of her and not really caring. He didn’t hesitate to hit her with snowballs, however, although he let her get in plenty of shots as well. Elizabeth could tell he was going easier on her than he had on Anya, but then again he kind of enjoyed it when she beat him, so she didn’t really mind.

However, after a particularly taunting move where he just kind of stood there less than ten feet away, one eyebrow raised curiously at her latest failed attempt to successfully hit him, she’d had enough.

He was caught completely off-guard when her unexpected leap caught him right around the middle, tackling him back into the soft blanket of snow. Before he even had a chance to recover, Elizabeth had grabbed up two heaping handfuls of snow and dropped them right on his head. He spurted and brushed the snow off while she laughed from her position straddling his waist.

"Evil vixen!" he teased, running his gloved hands over his hair a couple of times to make sure all the snow was gone.

"Gotcha!" she proclaimed proudly, her hands still pinning his chest back down to the ground.

He managed a grimace. "S’pose I can’t argue with that," he conceded with a little chuckle.

Elizabeth looked down into his eyes, noticing how the dim street lamps made them look like black, molten pools. She was struck for a minute at how odd this was. The way the two of them laughed and joked and just had fun when they were together… She would never have guessed that they had shared such dark secrets, that they had such painful pasts… How was it even possible? She’d always thought relationships were necessarily caught up in pain and heartbreak, but not with Spike. It was odd, but it just felt so right…

Spike noticed her sudden contemplation and cocked his head to one side, looking up at her curiously.

"Just thinking," she said softly. "I think this is the most fun I’ve had in…well, ever." She leaned down over him, her lips inches from his. "I don’t know what I’d do without you," she said with a shy smile. "Thank you, William…"

He shut his eyes as her lips descended on his, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her to him. The cold of the winter evening bit at both of their faces except at the junction of their lips where an inferno had burst to life.

"Now, now," Anya said from behind them, tisking lightly. Beside her, her two new partners in crime - Willow and Oz - had equally evil grins on their faces. "Making out with their backs open like that… They’re just asking to get snowed…"

* * *

It was less than an hour later that Elizabeth sat before the fire in Spike’s living room, warming herself by sitting in front of the fireplace…and by cuddling up to the man beside her. Joyce had provided spare baggy sweats for her, Willow, and Anya, and Oz borrowed some of Spike’s old things while their clothes tumbled in the dryer downstairs.

With a contented little murmur, Elizabeth sipped at her cocoa, still shivering slightly from the chill that had settled into her spine.

Joyce approached with the extra blankets she’d promised and slipped one over her son’s shoulders before further unfolding it to wrap around Elizabeth’s as well. She tucked the corners around their feet before giving her son a fond smile and ruffling his hair.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at Spike when his mother had left. Wrapping them both up in the same blanket together… Tacit approval of their obvious item-ness?

He merely shrugged and held her closer to him.

She relaxed into the warm circle of his arms, a sleepy yawn slipping out. And she realized something then. She had never felt as warm, content, comfortable, cared for, and…loved? She could hear Spike’s heart beating beneath his breast, but not even she could decipher something as intangible as that last emotion from the regular thump, thump.

It didn’t matter, though, she decided with another yawn - one that Spike echoed as well. Because never in her life had everything ever been so perfect…

Chapter Sixteen

In retrospect, she really should have seen this coming.

The signs had all been there. Ever since she had woken up that morning, they had been building. But she hadn’t seen them clearly, hadn’t realized until now…

Friday morning had started like pretty much every weekday morning had for the past three weeks. Elizabeth had awoken with a groan to the sound of her alarm clock. She’d developed the miraculous ability over the past few months to completely sleep through Willow’s early morning alarm, yet still wake up at her own. It was actually kind of impressive.

Sleepily, Elizabeth walked down to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and such before she turned on the shower spray. As she was waiting for the hot water to kick in, she ventured back out into the hallway, not even bothering to knock on Spike’s door before entering.

The numbers on his alarm clock indicated that he had hit the snooze button at least three times already, and he seemed to be utilizing the time to the best of his ability - buried under a mound of blankets, face stuffed into the pillow, snoozing just as contentedly as the big kitty-cat she teased that he was. She almost felt sorry for waking him. Almost.

"Hey, Spikey," she ruffled his hair slightly, causing him to stir lightly beneath her touch. He didn’t get up at that, of course. Oh no, he had to be stubborn every morning.

"Spike, wake up!" She bit back a smile at the confused mumble that escaped his lips.

She decided it was time to start playing dirty and tugged at the corner of the blanket, yanking it from his desperate grasp and exposing him to the cold air of the outside world. "Time for class, ‘luv’!" she informed him with a quick swat to that tight little ass of his.

He grumbled and blinked up at her. "’d almost think you liked doin’ that," he complained, running one hand through his tousled white curls as his yawned.

"Rise and shine!" she teased in a voice way too perky for this hour of the morning.

He practically fell out of bed, swearing under his breath the entire walk over to the bathroom. Elizabeth wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard something along the lines of "Got me a filthy sadist for a girlfriend," in which case he was so going to pay later.

Elizabeth stepped into her nice, warm shower and giggled when Spike let out a little screech when the initially cold water hit him in the other stall. He’d been doing this, what? A whole year longer than her?

"Don’t tell me you still haven’t managed to realize the water always starts out cold?" she teased, soaping up her hair.

"’S about the only think that’ll wake me up in the mornin’," he countered before rinsing the rapidly warming water through his hair.

"Speaking of which…" Elizabeth began. "Don’t you have a class before history?"

Spike shrugged even though she couldn’t see it through the two shower curtains that separated them. "Quite possibly," he agreed.

Elizabeth groaned. "God, you are so hopeless!" she exclaimed in mild irritation. "You’re going to, like, flunk out, you know…"

"Attending class is not necessary for passin’," he informed her defensively. "Tha’s just a lie they tell freshmen."

"You would so have missed that pop-quiz on Monday if I hadn’t dragged your lazy ass to history," she retorted with a victorious little smile.

"Humph." He really couldn’t argue with that point. He flicked off the water and grabbed his towel from the hook, rubbing it a few times through his hair before moving to wrap it around his waist.

"Are you done already?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief when she heard the water in the other stall turn off. She’d just begun her second lather.

"Don’ know why bints think showers should take a whole bleedin’ hour," he retorted sarcastically, getting out of the shower and moving over to the sink. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth while wiping away the steam from the mirror with a paper towel.

"It does not take an hour!" Elizabeth exclaimed in righteous indignation. "Fifteen minutes, tops!"

"You were twenty-three yesterday," he pointed out.

"And twenty-three minutes equals an hour in what bizarre fantasy world?" she demanded.

"Half an hour, fine!" his tone was obviously annoyed by now.

"Twenty-three minutes equals a half an hour?" she shot right back.

The muscle in Spike’s jaw twitched in annoyance, and he spit the toothpaste into the sink. "’m gonna go get dressed," he informed her curtly. "’ll meet you in the lounge before class."

Elizabeth let out a weary sigh when she heard the bathroom door bang. Great. Just what she needed today - ultra-crabby Spike.

Her own annoyance practically radiating off of her in waves, she rinsed her hair a final time before wrapping her robe around her body and dashing back to her room…

Whatever edginess was between them, it carried over right into history class. Elizabeth was seriously debating jabbing her pencil straight through Spike’s eye if he didn’t stop that annoying fidgeting.

It had started with his foot kicking the chair in front of him. After several annoyed looks from the unfortunate student who occupied the aforementioned chair, Elizabeth had been forced to catch Spike’s leg with her own, physically preventing it from swinging again.

He’d proceeded to get tap-happy then. The sound of his sole of his boot creating some cryptic Morse Code message on the tile floor had driven her up the wall for about five minutes before she’d finally stomped her foot down on top of his, effectively silencing him…or his foot, at least.

Step three in Spike’s apparent Piss Elizabeth Off Royally plan consisted of jingling the silver bracelets he wore on one wrist. Frankly, she was still half-convinced that all the jewelry made him look gay - well, except the rings in his ears; she’d discovered that those were fun to play with. But the rest of it…

She just didn’t need to be reminded that her boyfriend wore more jewelry than she did. She slammed her hand down over his wrist as well, stopping the constant jangling.

He’d thrown her the world’s most pissed off look then, like she was the one who was being irritating…

Gah! Elizabeth was about to explode by the time history ended, and neither of them had really been paying much attention to the lecture.

He’d practically seized her arm when class was over and dragged her away from the quick ‘hi’ she’d said to Riley, pulling her out into the hallway with him.

"You goin’ to English?" he demanded, toying with an unlit cigarette.

"Of course I’m going to English!" she snapped. "Unlike some people, I actually go to class." Her irritation was growing by the minute.

"Right then," he said in a particularly sour tone. "Go on then. ‘m sure ‘ll see you later." Placing the cigarette between his lips, he stomped off then. He’d lit it up even before he’d officially left the building, earning himself a couple of nasty looks and one snide comment. Snide comment got the two-fingered salute for his troubles.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. God, what was his problem?!

An hour later, she opened the door to Spike’s room with an angry bang. Of course, he had the nerve to not actually be there, so her dramatic entrance had been all for naught.

With a frustrated snort, she noticed that the bed had been stripped and the heaping pile of dirty clothes in the corner had been removed. That made it pretty apparent where he was, and she trudged all the way back down the three flights of stairs plus the additional one into the basement.

Sure enough, there he was in the laundry room, waiting in front of the dryers. He was wearing a pair of headphones that were turned up so loud that she could hear the deafening - and usually crude and offensive - punk lyrics through them…as well as through his own singing.

She hit the stop button on his Discman vehemently, stopping the splitting headache that just listening to his music secondhand gave her.

He started in surprise when the song abruptly stopped, and a scowl crossed his face when he saw that she was the cause. "Oi!" he complained. "Was listenin’ to that!"

"Were making yourself go deaf, you mean," she informed him primly.

"Since when is that your business, Summers?" he retorted, practically ripping the headphones off of his ears and stuffing them back into his bag.

"You know, you’re right," she countered sarcastically, getting right up into his face. "I’ll just stay out of your life from now on. Excuse me for caring!"

"Naggin’ is more like it," he bit back, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer. "Everywhere I go today, everythin’ I do…" He abruptly trailed off when someone from the other house in Westing Hall entered the laundry room, laundry basket in hand.

Elizabeth stepped away from him in response, turning to leave. "I’m going to go make up my studio hours," she informed him a bit bitterly. "Have a nice afternoon."

He let out a sigh. "Summers, wait," he pleaded, but she was already gone…

Not that it did her any good.

"’S nice." Spike’s voice startled her from the world of her painting.

"Spike?" she hissed in disbelief. "What on earth are you doing here?!"

"’S an open studio," he said defensively before turning back to look at her painting once more. "’S nice," he repeated. "I like it."

"Thanks," she managed to say with a tight smile, continuing to mix the orange color she wanted on her palate.

"That’s the place you told me about, innit?" he asked in a hushed voice after her prolonged pause indicated that she was ignoring him. "Where your mother is?"

Elizabeth sighed and turned back to her painting. It was a landscape setting, a darkened outline of trees as seen from a small hill. The black cross-shape in the center to the hill was all too clearly a grave to those who were looking for it, and Spike most certainly knew enough to have correctly guessed what it was.

"Yeah," she reluctantly agreed, breaking her forced silence.

"Is that you sitting by the grave?" Spike agreed, tilting his head to look at the painting more closely as he sat on the stool beside her. It was the black, backlit silhouette of a sitting human figure that had caught his attention.

"It is," she admitted.

"I like the sunset," he commented with strange calmness. "The colors… ‘S well done."

"Thanks," she said with a little smile this time. "I figured, my mom never gets to see the sunset the way her grave’s set up, so I could…y’know, paint it for her…" She trailed off, slightly embarrassed, of all things, and studiously began highlighting the edges of the cross.

"Nice…" he repeated, his voice sounding distant enough that it seemed like an echo of his earlier words.

"Spike, why are you here?" she asked in a voice more clipped than she’d meant it. "I thought you avoided your mom’s studio like the plague. Something about getting stuck doing menial labor?"

He ducked his head, scratching the hair at the back of his neck in a gesture that Elizabeth had long since learned indicated that he was uncomfortable. "Well, yeah, but…wanted to make sure we were still on for tonight was all…" he blurted out this last bit nervously.

"And it took you almost an hour to come ask?" She raised one perfectly-sculptured eyebrow.

"Well, I had to finish the laundry, and…"

"Nice to know laundry rates just above me," she snorted derisively.

"And I was afraid you might say ‘no’, all right?" he finished angrily, his eyes flashing like the sun off of pale blue ice.

"It’s still ‘yes’," she informed him calmly. "I still haven’t seen Oz and Devon play yet. I wouldn’t miss it for the world."

"All right then." He paused. "You comin’ to practice today?" he demanded.

"I only need two more hours before I’m all caught up," she pointed out.

He glanced at her painting. "Need to let that layer dry before you paint more, anyway," he informed her as one whose mother had put a paintbrush in his hand prior to a pencil.

She couldn’t find any argument with that. "Fine," she agreed before sighing. "That means I have to take another shower today, you realize?"

"So the Wiccans ‘ll get caught takin’ a cold shower tonight," Spike shrugged disinterestedly. "Let’s go…"

Wesley winced as the blond pair fell to the mats together, hands and feet striking wildly at each other in a desperate attempt to gain advantage.

"I am quite sure that move is not legal," Kendra flinched slightly, wide-eyed as she watched the scrambling pair.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen dirtier fighting tactics," Wesley sighed before shouting at them to break it up.

Elizabeth and Spike cast each other furious glances, each blaming the other for their own failed attack.

"I think that’s quite enough for today," Wesley announced in a slightly pinched voice. "Perhaps you two need some time with the punching bags…or something."

"I have to leave anyway," Elizabeth announced, snatching up her water bottle and practically draining it.

"Me, too," Spike agreed, flashing daggers at her the whole time. "Later." He stalked off towards the men’s locker room. Elizabeth made a similar exit into the women’s locker room only a few seconds after him.

"Am I sensing trouble in paradise?" Kendra asked with a slight frown.

Wesley sighed. "Damned if I know…"

By the time Elizabeth and Spike finally left the Blue Club, everyone was only too happy to see them go. Willow let out a little breath of relief, and Tara patted her hand encouragingly.

"Do you think we should go after them?" Xander asked, concerned. "’Cause I’m sensing a huge, combusting break-up slash double murder coming on…"

Elizabeth and Spike had been sending nasty clips back and forth the entire evening, their arguments oddly reminiscent of their relationship when they first met. They had argued about whether or not to dance, then had been arguing on the dance floor even as their bodies moved together, before moving back to the table and arguing some more. The building fury between the pair had been uncomfortable for everyone else who was misfortunate enough to get caught in the middle.

But Anya couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Xander’s comment. "You really don’t know anything about women, do you?" she asked wearily…

So, in summary, she really should’ve seen it coming. It had been building all day; it was only a matter of time before it exploded.

"What was that?!" Spike demanded, slamming the door to his room shut behind them.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Elizabeth retorted, giving him the patented ‘you’re an idiot for not being able to read my mind’ look.

"Yeah!" he demanded, scarred eyebrow raised at her defiantly. "Why don’t you?"

"God, you’re so-!" she exclaimed, her hands gesticulating wildly as she tried to come up with the right words.

"What?" he demanded, stepping right up into her personal space so that they were nose to nose.

Her face softened as everything suddenly became crystal clear to her. "Beautiful…" she whispered just before she caught him to her the way she’d been wanting to all day and pulled his lips down into a bruising kiss.

He moaned against her lips, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of her dress even as he staggered back to his bed. All the while, she plundered his mouth, savoring the sweet and tangy taste of Spike, the way he was rough and gentle at the same time, kind, infuriating, passionate…

"Want you," she gasped, her lips pulling away from his for just a split-second.

He moaned in protest. "Want you, too," he gasped before capturing her lips once more, falling back onto the bed…

Elizabeth ripped his burgundy shirt open, sending several white buttons scattering about the room as she did so. She rose up on her knees to hover over his chest, her tongue licking and tracing all the strong lines of his muscles.

"Cor, Elizabeth!" he gasped, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes rolling back in their sockets at the feel of her hot mouth upon him.

"Spike…" she whispered, her breath tingling the soft, pale skin right over his heart. Her lips proceeded to trail down to one hard, flat male nipple, taking it gently between her teeth and twisting.

His hips bucked up in response, his groin thrusting into hers. His erection was thick and hard at her actions, but he wasn’t embarrassed; they’d gotten rather used to that happening over the past couple of weeks, after all.

However, rather than pull back and give him time to calm down, she ground her own hips down into his hardness. A little hiss escaped her lips as the ridge of the seam over his zipper pressed hard against her most sensitive spots.

"Oh god…" she gasped at the first little twinges of pressure built inside of her. "Oh, oh god…"

"Christ, luv!" Spike gasped as the strain against his zipper became painful. "You’re killin’ me here…"

She gave him a seductive little smile and leaned in to kiss him…

He groaned into her mouth when her hot little hand found the bulge in his pants, cupping it gently through his jeans. "E-Elizabeth?" he inquired, pulling away from her kiss. He looked up into her eyes, lust and hope swirling through his own midnight blue orbs.

"Yeah," she answered his unasked question, a slight blush rising in her cheeks.

"You’re sure?" His hands were gently cupping her ass now, pushing her little black miniskirt up as they explored her toned flesh.

In response, she merely reached down and slowly unfastened her zipper. The sound of the metal teeth unfastening and releasing sounded deafening in the small dorm room where the only other sound was the intense panting of the couple on the bed.

With a flick of her thumb the top button was unfastened, and she slowly reached in to pull him out. A contented feminine smile graced her lips at her first sight of him. She’d reached in to touch him a few times before, but the jeans had always remained perfectly fastened. Not tonight, though…

"I need…" she whispered huskily, looking down deep into the dilated ebony of his eyes.

"Shh," he whispered softly, sitting up beneath her so that she rested in his lap. His fingers gently tangled in her long, gold hair, holding her firmly to him as he covered her face in soft kisses.

She felt him slowly continue to push her dress upwards, his hands rubbing little circles into her heated flesh as it was further exposed. She returned the favor, her hands gliding up his shoulders right under the soft cotton of his shirt. It fell back down to his elbows under her guidance, and she carefully began to stroke and trace the muscles of his chest.

She couldn’t help but agree with her earlier assessment now; he was so, so beautiful…albeit, in an entirely masculine way. She’d never thought that a man could be beautiful before, but Spike’s body was like a Greek statue come to life. Lean, tight muscles created sharp angles and soft curves. His body was hard, strong, perfect…and yet it quivered beneath her hands at the same time. Soft, delicate skin of the palest alabaster shined silver in the moonlight that peeked in through the blinds.

As she watched, he pulled back just enough to slip his shirt off his arms, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. He looked up at where she sat atop him then, wonder and awe reflected in those expressive eyes…

With a sly smile, she slowly, languorously pulled off the dress that had become bunched at her waist. She let her body stretch and flow under the black silk as it slid up and off her body.

The expression in his eyes when she finally rested atop him in only two scraps of silk made the breath catch in her throat. Just by looking into his face, she knew at that moment that she was the most beautiful, sexy woman in the world. Nothing else could account for the look of pure worship in his eyes.

"Cor, luv," he whispered softly, his hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. "You’re so perfect, luv. So beautiful… I knew the moment I first saw you…"

He seemed to get slightly choked up at this point - surprising given his general verbosity. She kissed his brow gently in response.

"I did, too," she admitted softly. "Was too dumb to admit it, but…"

He sighed against her shoulder before carefully lifting her up in his arms and twisting so that she now lay on the bed beneath him.

"I’ve wanted you for so long…" His voice sounded ragged, like he was trying to restrain a tidal wave of emotions.

"Show me," she requested, an excited glint in her eye.

He let out a playful little growl at that and dove for her throat.

She giggled and then moaned at the feel of his lips trailing down her body. He placed a little bite on her throat, just over her pounding pulse-point, before his tongue trailed down the golden column of her throat. His lips ran up and down each collarbone in kisses so light they felt like the soft brush of butterfly wings. He slipped the narrow straps of her bra over her shoulders as they got in his way, and her fingers tangled in his silky platinum locks, urging him to continue.

Her lower body began aching for further contact so her foot slid up his calf, passing over the area where his jeans had bunched around his knees as he rose above her. She finally found the smooth muscles of the backs of his thighs and continued to glide upward, savoring her first feels of that tight, sexy butt of his. Her foot finally completed its journey at the small of his back, and she pushed gently, pressing his lower body down into hers, feeling his naked hardness against her inner thigh as she spread her legs beneath him…

"Mmm," he murmured against the silk of her bra. "You know," he looked up at her softly with a hint of his usual cheeky grin, "red’s my favorite color…"

"Why do you think I wore them?" she replied with a sly little smile as she realized that it was true. There was no way she’d just by chance chosen to wear her skimpiest, sexiest underwear that day. On some fundamental level she’d known this was what she wanted, even if her conscious mind hadn’t realized it until just now.

With a little chuckle, he pushed her bra aside, nimble fingers unfastening the clasp. She cried aloud at the first feel of his mouth encompassing her supple mound, his tongue swirling insistently over the needy flesh, caressing it, loving it…

Her head lolled back onto the pillow, and her hips bucked desperately in response. She felt Spike’s erection quiver against her thigh and realized that she couldn’t take much more of this…

"Luv," Spike looked down at her apologetically, "I can’t take much more…"

She gave him a little smile. "Great minds think alike." She reluctantly released her holds on his platinum locks and strong, muscular back in order to fully slip out of her bra.

He kicked his jeans off at the same time, but halted her when she attempted to slip off her panties on her own. Eyes never leaving hers, he brushed her hands aside before slipping his thumbs beneath the elastic waist of the thong and slowly sliding them down her long legs.

She gulped at the unbearable wetness between her thighs. She felt as though there was a dull ache deep inside her, an emptiness and hunger that only he could sate…

"You’re a goddess," he whispered softly, once her entire body lay bare before him. "My fiery goddess…"

She pulled him down to her, showering him with kisses, guiding his hands over her body as she explored his, her needy center rubbing persistently against his erection, begging him to enter her…

"Spike?" she practically whimpered when he pulled away. She bit her lip at the pleading tone in her voice. "Now?"

"Now," he agreed, shuffling around in the drawer beside his bed and triumphantly producing a square wrapper from the box inside.

"Hoping to get lucky?" she couldn’t help but tease as he unwrapped the condom.

He looked down at her with an evil little glint in his eyes. "Luck has nothin’ to do with it, ’s just my inherent irresistibility," he countered, moving to roll the rubber on.

This time she halted him, giving him a shy smile before slowly rolling the protective covering down his length, stroking him to become even harder as she did so.

They met for a kiss when she was done, and Spike gently guided her back down to the mattress beneath him. His hand slipped between her thighs, testing the wetness he found there and stretching her before using her juices to slick himself up.

"My luv," he whispered softly, looking straight down into her eyes as he slowly began to enter her.

She hissed slightly at first, feeling her muscles relax and give in slowly to his girth, stretching and expanding. She clutched his forearms tightly, holding on as he buried himself deep inside her.

Spike’s eyes rolled back at the raging inferno that suddenly surrounded him, and it was all he could do to keep things slow, let her adjust… But, cor, she fit him just like a glove!

"Oh god!" Elizabeth gasped when he was finally sheathed inside her. She’d never had a man fill her this completely before. It fell like too much, but so good at the same time.

"Shh, I got you, luv," Spike’s voice lowered to a husky whisper as he began pumping in and out of her with agonizing slowness. "That feel all right, luv?" he asked softly.

"G-G-Good!" she barely managed to cry out at the incredible sensations passing through her. "More!"

With a little grin, he picked up the strength of his thrusts, using those taut muscles she admired so to piston himself deep within her. He lowered himself onto one elbow so that he could pepper kisses over her face while his free hand softly kneaded her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple in sharp little counterpoint to the movement of his hips.

Little gasping mewls began to escape her lips at the feel of him so completely inside of her. She felt like her body was aflame, like something was building within her, powerful, primal, right where the two of them were joined together…

"Yesss…" she rasped, hands returning to his body, holding him to her, caressing him. Her hips were thrusting upwards in time with his own now, increasing the power of their union, causing brighter sparks to fly between them with each renewed penetration.

"Cor, luv, pet, sweetheart," he was babbling against her heated flesh with every thrust now. "You feel so good, so beautiful… Never felt anythin’ like this before…"

Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper, stronger. She gasped, eyes wide, as the tip of his cock struck the entrance to her womb for the first time.

"Oh god!" she cried out. "Never knew…*gasp*…it could be…*moan*…so…deep…"

He ground into her harder at this admission, his face buried in her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut tight as he fought to bring her greater pleasure. He twirled his hips lightly upon entry now, slanting in at a new angle every time, desperately seeking…

"Spike?" Her voice sounded raw, astonished, amazed.

"I got you, luv," he whispered softly against her ear, the only other sound in the room the slapping of their sweaty bodies as they thrust together.

"Spike!" she screamed to the heavens as his repeated hits to that one spot deep inside her finally sent her over the edge. Her vision seemed to be swimming around her, her body exploding into a wondrous world of sensation and pleasure.

She clutched him roughly to her as the world melted around her and there was only him left, him and the pleasure he brought her.

"’Liz’beth!" His roar echoed through the walls when the spasms of her inner muscles finally enveloped him fully in pleasure, ecstasy beyond anything he had believed possible. He continued to thrust within her, milking this moment for everything it was worth…

And then they crashed back down to the bed together, and there was a moment of complete silence where they just lay there, astounded by the power of the experience they’d just shared.

Spike was the first to stir, mumbling softly about how beautiful and wonderful she was as he slowly pulled out of her.

She whimpered slightly in protest when he left her, blinking up in lazy contentment and watching as he disposed of the condom in the trashcan before wiping himself thoroughly clean. She gave him a soft smile when he sat down on the bed beside her and carefully parted her legs, cleaning her inner thighs as well.

A little giggle escaped her lips then, and he looked at her curiously.

"There’s no way the entire house didn’t hear that," she informed him, still laughing behind her hand.

"They’re prob’ly still out," he hoped, throwing the sticky towel into a corner.

"Hmm," she agreed, her face practically glowing from the climax she’d just experienced, "come back to bed…" She wiggled over to the edge so that he could take his usual place between her and the wall.

He gladly slid under the covers beside her, draping his sated body over hers as they lay side by side, looking deep into each other’s eyes.

"You were amazing," he whispered softly, brushing one sweat-soaked strand of hair back from her forehead. "You are amazing, luv…"

She gave him a shy little smile. She’d kind of got the impression in the past that sex consisted of a guy grunting on top of you until he was satisfied and then he fell asleep. As cliched as it sounded, she hadn’t been quite convinced that orgasms and g-spots had really existed. And she certainly hadn’t believed that guys wanted sweet pillow-talk afterwards. Spike was shaking her world that night, in more ways than one…

"That was…yeah," she blushed, not quite sure what to say, "great…"

"Just ‘great’?" Spike teased lightly, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead nonetheless.

"Really great?" she teased back, reaching out to touch him lightly, stroking sweat-slicked muscles that shone even brighter in the moonlight when wet.

With a satisfied little murmur, he pulled her against him, moving their bodies so that he lay on his back with her body sprawled atop his, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her golden hair fanned out across his bare chest.

"It’s never been like that for me before," she finally admitted softly, her fingers still caressing his smooth skin. "I’ve never…" she blushed and then blushed again at how stupid it was that she was still blushing after what they’d just done.

She giggled slightly at the ridiculousness of the notion. Spike raised his eyebrow, and she explained the joke to him, making him chuckle as well.

She smiled and snuggled into him, amazed at the easy playfulness that had taken them over now. That was another thing that was different; her other experiences hadn’t had the same aspect of comfort.

"Is it because they were just boys, and you’re a man?" she wondered aloud. "Or maybe," she added shyly, "it was just because it was you…"

He gave her a truly delighted smile in response to that. "Think that’s the best thing anyone’s ever said to me, luv," he whispered into her hair.

"Mmm," she nodded with a sleepy yawn, "and you managed to put my worst fears to ease as well…"

"Oh?" he raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"You didn’t play bad punk music," she teased, "you didn’t call me ‘Summers’ when you came…"

He chuckled and pulled her closer against him, letting his own eyes drift closed as sleep fell upon him as well.

"And you’ll still be here when I wake up…" she finished.

"’ll still be here," he promised softly.

But she had already fallen asleep, the tension that had built within her finally released, safe and comforted and realizing in her dream-world that the definition of ‘perfect’ she’d known last week had been wrong. The true meaning of the word had been tonight…

Chapter Seventeen

"Mmm…" Elizabeth awoke the morning after the way one should awake the morning after. She felt sore, sticky, and as if she had run a marathon…and yet warm, comfortable, and well-rested at the same time. But number one on her list of pros to waking up this morning had to be the strong, sculpted chest beneath her fingertips.

Even as she savored the feel of the body next to hers, soft fingers grazed her cheek, delicately outlining her face. A little smile snuck upon her lips, but she kept her eyes closed, allowing her sense of touch to overwhelm all others. Well, that and sound.

At that moment, a hearty chuckle was sending delightful little tingles all throughout her body.

"I know you’re awake, luv," a husky voice whispered against her hair. "Not that ‘m objectin’ to the kittenish act…" he added with a wry grin.

She opened her eyes to give Spike an annoyed look, but it came off more as a radiant smile. "Hey," she whispered softly, placing a feather-light kiss on his chest.

"Hey yourself, luv," he practically purred beneath her.

"And you say I’m the kittenish one," she teased lightly.

He raised his scarred eyebrow in response to that. "Frankly, after yesterday, I rather expected to wake up with a lion in bed," he joked.

"Mmm…" She inched closer to him and lay her head on his bare chest, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Boy here in morning and no sexual frustration make Elizabeth happy girlfriend," she murmured lightheartedly, her lips brushing his chest once more.

"Yeah…’bout that…" Spike began hesitantly. "Now, don’t get me wrong, I made sure I waited till you woke up. Knew you had this thing about wakin’ up next to a warm body and all, but…"

She looked up at him with mild trepidation.

"Any chance you’d let me get up an’ go to the loo?" he couldn’t help but grimace.

Her eyes widened when she realized her body’s own need. "Second that motion," she agreed, sitting up abruptly.

Spike quickly shrugged into a pair of sweatpants that made him decent enough for a quick run to the bathroom. Elizabeth, meanwhile, slunk back into her dress, grimacing slightly at how the fabric clung to her in her less than pristine condition.

"Definitely need a shower," she decided.

"Mmm, sounds fun," Spike couldn’t help but tease, holding the door to his room open for her.

She gave him a sly little smile over her shoulder. "Sorry, lover," she informed him with a little pout, "public bathroom means private showers."

"S’pose we don’t want the whole house participatin’," he agreed with that same idiotic grin that he’d had on his face ever since last night.

"Any more than they already heard, that is," Elizabeth teased back before vanishing into one of the bathroom stalls.

She emerged to find Spike brushing his teeth and humming a little tune to himself as he did so. The song was probably some punk thing she couldn’t stand, but she didn’t care at that moment. That moment seemed so…domestic that she couldn’t even bring up the energy to tease him.

The illusion was shattered when Jonathan practically dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut on the stall Elizabeth had just vacated. Well, unless I make Jonathan our recluse of a son… Her mind added somewhat giddily.

"What?" Spike cocked one eyebrow and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"Nothing," she insisted, still giggling. "I’m gonna go get my shower stuff. I’ll be right back."

"’ll be waitin’ for you every minute, luv," he practically purred, his eyes shamelessly raking up and down her body.

She blushed slightly before rolling her eyes at herself. After all, he’d already seen everything there was. There was no reason she should still feel all delighted and tingly at the thought that he wanted her. There was something about Spike, though… She didn’t think she’d ever grow less excited about the way he looked at her.

She quickly slipped into her room to find - much to her amazement - that Willow was still snoring away in her bed, Tara at her side. Any naughty thoughts Elizabeth may have had were brushed aside by the complete presence of clothes. Still, Willow had teased her about fully-clothed sleeping together, so this information was still tease-worthy.

She quickly stripped out of her dress and wrapped herself up in her robe before dashing back to the bathroom.

One of the shower stalls was already occupied when she returned, the pair of sweatpants Spike had been wearing hung on the hook outside. She quickly stepped into the other, squeaking when the first blast of cold water struck her.

A chuckle emanated from the other stall. "Who forgot to check the temperature first this time?" Spike teased.

Elizabeth laughed. "Sorry about that," she said with a little grin. "I was kind of…horny yesterday," she finally confessed.

"Noticed," Spike couldn’t help but joke. "And," there was a hint of cheekiness in his voice, "you’ll be happy to know that Jonathan left so you din’t make that li’l confession in front of him."

Elizabeth squealed and put her hand over her mouth belatedly…and completely unnecessarily. "Oops, forgot," she sighed in disbelief. "I’m a bad, bad person. There’s no way I won’t have sexually terrorized the entire house by the end of the year."

"Feel free to terrorize me all you want, luv…" OK, she could actually hear the smirk in those words…

"That’s the plan," she agreed, amused. "Wait till I start going crazy, then jump sexy boyfriend’s bones."

"Don’t s’pose I can make a li’l request?" he teased. "A bit less with the crazy and more with the bone jumpin’…and the callin’ me ‘sexy’?"

Elizabeth faked shock and surprise. "Who said I was talking about you?" she taunted him. "Maybe I was thinking about Riley and…er…" She couldn’t even manage to pull off her own sarcasm at that point and shrugged. "OK, so you’ve got a cute butt," she finally conceded.

His laughter echoed through the shower stalls. "Jump me sooner next time?" he repeated.

Elizabeth bit her lip. "How about right now? Does right now sound good to you?" She rubbed her shampoo into her hair.

"Pet, we’re in a public pl-" The scent hit him at that moment. "Is that…vanilla?" he asked hopefully.

"Mmm-hmm," she agreed in the most satisfied way she could manage.

"Right now, you say?" he said, resistance melting at that scent.

"Public place," she couldn’t help but tease him. "Besides, getting clean is good. Cleanness would not result from sharing showers."

He snorted at that. "By the way, ‘d like to thank you for conveniently waitin’ until after ‘d washed my sheets to take advantage of my sexy body."

"I knew it!" she accused, giggling into her washcloth. "You love your laundry more than me!"

"Only do it about once a month," Spike retorted, a sly smile on his face. "By all means, try to beat it…"

"You are so weird," Elizabeth shook her head. "And I am so not getting into a race with your laundry to see which you can do more often…’cause, frankly, the laundry doesn’t stand a chance…"

"Wow, and here I thought I was kinky…" The voice suddenly interrupted their latest little sparring match.

"Anyanka?" Spike’s face turned beet red.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" Anya sighed, wandering over to the sink and attentively flossing her teeth. "So, Elizabeth, did you enjoy the large penis and many orgasms?" she couldn’t help but tease.

"Anyanka!" Spike sounded mortified.

"Very much," Elizabeth agreed with a little giggle.

In the other shower, Spike groaned in frustration, banging his head against the tile wall.

"Oops, I think we broke him," Anya giggled.

"We better not’ve…" Elizabeth sounded slightly worried. Her head peeked out of her own shower curtain and over into his. "You all right, gorgeous?"

He gulped, but there was a little smile on the corners of his lips. "You an’ Anyanka…joinin’ forces…bloody terrifyin’!" he joked.

"Humph," Anya inspected her teeth carefully in the mirror before turning to where Elizabeth’s neck and shoulders where visible in between the two curtains. "I know you’re kissing over there," she accused.

With twin blushes, Elizabeth and Spike’s lips broke apart. What? It had seemed like an eternity since they’d last seen each other…

"You’d better not get all overly cutesy now," Anya scrunched up her nose, "’cause, frankly, I enjoyed watching all the UST - very entertaining." She put her hands on her hips and watched as both showers turned off, the towels on the hooks outside both miraculously vanishing over the top at the same time.

"Don’t worry, Anyanka," Spike said wryly, stepping out of the shower, towel wrapped firmly around his waist. "We’ll ‘ave to go all through breakfast without…"

Elizabeth stepped out of the shower right at this and blushed slightly. But no amount of embarrassment could hide the glowing smile that lit up her face as she caught Spike’s hand and dragged him out after her.

"See you at breakfast then," Anya agreed, turning back to the mirror, "although I suppose it’s more like lunch…" she added to herself. The door closed behind the pair, and Anya smiled after them. "If only all of us were so lucky," she sighed, a slight frown creasing her forehead…

* * *

Faith woke up, alone and shivering in her bed, and wondered just when things had gotten so fucked up. Last night hadn’t been a new all-time low for her, but for some reason things had finally sunk in. And her conclusion was, quite simply, that she was fucked up.

She clutched her blankets tighter around her body as the shakes made her teeth begin to chatter. Her own skin felt cold and clammy to her touch, and every time she opened her eyes she felt like she would throw up. And, given that she hadn’t eaten anything in over three days, it would just be more of that horrible dry heaving. Hence, keeping her eyes closed was a really good idea.

At least she had woken up in her own room this time, rather than in…Brad’s? Brian’s? Ryan’s? What was his name again? She decided it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that she was home and could sleep for a very long time.

A little smile dared to curl her lips in silent thanks to Willow. She hadn’t really been a friend to the girl - hell, she hadn’t been a friend to anyone lately - but, nevertheless, Willow had been there for every one of her numerous disasters this semester. It was nice to at least have one person looking out for her.

And, in the end, Faith thought that that was what she would miss the most. Because, even as fucked up as she was now, she at least had somewhere to go when she needed to…

* * *

"Where is everyone?" Elizabeth asked sleepily, practically collapsing into the chair beside Spike as she did so. How on earth was it possible for her to feel so tired and yet perfectly well-slept at the same time? Maybe the aerobic workout last night had something to do with it, a sarcastic voice in the back of her mind just couldn’t let that one go.

Across the table from them, Anya shrugged and glanced around the cafeteria. All the other tables were as crowded as they ever were on a Saturday morning, but the Westing House one seated only the three of them.

"Maybe they’ve already finished eatin’," Spike suggested, practically shoveling his food into his mouth.

Next to him, Elizabeth had been left just as famished by their night’s activities. "Uh-uh," she shook her head, drinking down her milk. "Will and Tara were still asleep when I was getting dressed," she explained when her mouth was available for speech once more.

Anya’s brow furrowed once more. "They must’ve been out really late last night then. I wonder…" She trailed off abruptly, eyes widening.

Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. "There’s no way we’re not askin’ you what you know now," he informed her. "You’re practically broadcastin’ that somethin’s up."

Anya sighed. "I’m not supposed to know this," she began. "I mean, I just happened to be sitting next to Willow when the call came, and it was official RA business and…" She noticed Spike and Elizabeth staring at her, if anything even more desperate for her to continue. "Faith had an ‘incident’ again," she finally admitted, making little fingers gestures to indicate the parentheses.

Spike’s brow immediately furrowed. "What was it this time, luv?" he demanded.

Anya shrugged. "Some problem with one of those guys she hangs out with. She was kinda frantic. I think she suddenly realized that she was in over her head."

Elizabeth, half not understanding the conversation, nudged Spike gently in the ribs to explain.

"Friends of Devon’s friends," he sighed. "Faith met ‘em through him, an’ well…appreciated the easy access to many illegal substances that they had."

"It was the cause of a good dozen or so of their break-ups," Anya agreed with a slight grimace. "Devon’s into the whole ‘experimenting’ thing," again with the air-quotes, "but even he has his limits."

"And Faith didn’t?" Elizabeth guessed.

"Ten bucks says the doctors were jus’ tryin’ to save her from goin’ to jail that night they said it was ‘just food poisoning’," Spike answered.

"So, what happened last night?" Elizabeth asked, concerned.

Anya shrugged. "Don’t know exactly. Probably never will. But if that girl doesn’t learn some restraint…" she sighed.

"M-Maybe we should help her?" Elizabeth suggested timidly. "Do an intervention or something like that?"

Spike shook his head ruefully. "Oz an’ Devon tried it." He took a sip of his coffee. "Can’t really help someone with a problem like that if they don’t wanna be helped."

Elizabeth frowned slightly at that. "But Faith was my friend," she insisted. "There must be something…" She trailed off at the looks on her two companions’ faces. She bit back a wry laugh. "I guess it would’ve been helpful if I’d said this a couple of months ago, huh?" she sighed.

Spike gave her thigh a reassuring little squeeze. "She’s a tough bird," he insisted. "She’ll get through it."

"If she doesn’t get herself killed first," Anya added darkly…

* * *

"Have I mentioned how adorable your toes are lately?" Elizabeth collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh, her face ending up right next to the feet in question.

Spike looked up from his book at her, one eyebrow quirked in a way that made his wire-frame reading glasses inch down his nose. It was arguably the cutest thing she had ever seen.

"Don’t believe you’ve ever mentioned it, luv," he said with the beginnings of a smirk.

"Well, they’re adorable," she informed him, planting a quick kiss on one big toe.

His eyebrow quirked in a way that indicated that he was now skeptical. "You finished your history paper already?" he inquired.

She sighed. "Except for the conclusion?" she pleaded slightly.

The eyebrow rose higher.

"OK, and the section before the conclusion, too," she pouted, sitting up next to him, "but I really miss-" The index finger of her left hand traced a line right down the center of his chest. Unfortunately, his book blocked its progress just before his navel.

"Havin’ difficulty concentratin’ today?" Spike’s lips curved into a little smile. "Otherwise…preoccupied, perhaps?" He bookmarked his page and put the book aside with one hand while the other caught her own wandering fingers and guided them to his hip, pulling her so that she hovered over them.

She let out a wistful sigh. "A little," she admitted ruefully.

"Then c’mere an’ let Spike make it all better," he teased lightly, pulling her down into his arms.

She snuggled into his chest with a little murmur of contentment. "I feel bad about Faith," she whispered softly.

"Humph," he said sulkily, "an’ here I thought it was my sexy body that was gettin’ you all wound up…"

"That, too." She looked up at him with a small smile before slowly leaning up to place a kiss on his lips.

He moaned and moved to remove his glasses, but she stayed his hand.

"The glasses are sexy," she explained to his inquiring look after she had pulled away.

"Should I be jealous?" His eyes twinkled with merriment.

"No more than I should be jealous of your laundry," she retorted.

She curled up beside him like they used to do when they just lay side by side and talked. He recognized the mood change and mirrored her actions, so that they were both facing each other.

"I’m a bad friend," she decided.

"What makes you think that, kitten?"

"Faith in trouble. Me not knowing," she answered simply.

"Is Faith your friend, though?" he pressed softly.

"We hung out, like, all through orientation," Elizabeth insisted. "We were joined at the hip…when I wasn’t doing Tri Xi stuff, at least."

"And was anything botherin’ her then?" he inquired.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Just, like, normal teenage stuff." Her brow furrowed for a second. "What’re you getting at?"

"When did you stop hangin’ out with her?" he persisted.

She thought on it for a second. "Maybe…second week? Third?" She winced slightly when she realized she couldn’t remember. "Whenever she stopped coming to class. I was too caught up in my own thing to seek her out."

"Did she seek you out?" he demanded.

"Well…no," Elizabeth sighed. "I know where you’re going with this, so don’t."

He shrugged. "Sometimes people jus’ drift apart," he whispered softly into her hair. "No one wants it to. It just happens."

She giggled slightly. "When did you go all Obi-Wan on me?" she teased.

He bit his lip. "There was someone I cared about once that started driftin’ away," he began softly. "Gave up practically everythin’ else to chase after her…"

"It’s not me, is it?" Elizabeth winced slightly.

"No," Spike laughed. "You practically came runnin’ into my arms; all I had to do was be there."

"Are you saying I’m easy?" she demanded, mock-offended.

"You think that was easy?!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Patience is kinda not my thing." His hand found its way to her hip and began massaging it gently.

"Never would’ve guessed," she said with a sly smile, reaching up to trace the line of his scarred eyebrow. "Was it Drusilla?" she asked softly.

"Cecily."

"That’s a new one," she commented curiously.

"The stupid first love," Spike sighed. "Everyone has one - even William."

Elizabeth was downright curious now. He hardly ever referred to his given name. "William?" she repeated.

"Every bit the loser I told you about," he sighed. "He gets shuffled off to England for high-school, an’ suddenly there’s Cecily - beautiful…at least to me at the time, innocent…or so she seemed, and just waitin’ for a new lapdog."

"Let me guess," she teased, "you."

"I wished!" he laughed. "Oh no, she an’ William were just ‘friends’. She wanted someone excitin’ and dangerous and…well, just like Spike."

" ‘Exciting’?" Elizabeth couldn’t help but poke fun. " ‘Dangerous’?"

"Why do I have the feelin’ the words ‘kitty-cat’ are gonna pop outta your mouth any second?" he let out a long-suffering sigh.

"You know me too well." She stretched her neck up to nibble at the silver ring in his ear, and he moaned slightly in response. "So, William turned into Spike…" she prodded for the rest of the story.

"Oi!" he complained. "I din’t get to that revelation yet!"

She rolled her eyes. "It was obvious. Continue."

He huffed slightly but went on anyway. "Spike worked out well. Cecily still din’t want him, but Spike was a lot happier than William. Cecily kept movin’ on, though, and…" He sighed. "Sometimes you just ‘ave ta do what makes you happy. You can’t chase after everyone, or there’ll be nothin’ left ‘f yourself."

"Are you implying that I have weird lesbian feelings for Faith?" she teased.

"Well, she is pretty hot…" Spike began.

She whapped him in the arm. "Hey!" she protested. "You’re not allowed to talk about other girls like that!"

"Ah, so you want me to lie to you then?" he teased. "Keep all those feelin’s bottled up deep inside until they explode an’-mmf!"

Her lips caught his savagely, and she thrust her tongue deep between his parted lips, reclaiming all her territory in his mouth. His tongue intertwined with hers gracefully as he moaned against her mouth’s assault.

Just as abruptly as she had begun the kiss, she pulled away. "All bottled up feelings can be directed right into my lips," she informed him primly.

"Mmm," he murmured softly before sneaking another kiss.

"I might’ve been able to do something, though," she whispered softly, resting her head against his chest once more. "If I’d been there…"

"Been there, what? Runnin’ off to raves and gettin’ doped up? You honestly think that’s your thing, luv?" he demanded.

"No, but…"

"You can’t fix everything," he cut her off with a fingertip to her lips. "You jus’ give people the opportunity to stay, an’ if they don’t leave-"

"Promise me you won’t leave me." Even she hadn’t been meaning to say that. And she certainly hadn’t meant it to sound that needy.

He gave her an affectionate little smile. "’ll do everythin’ in my power to stay," he agreed, brushing a gentle kiss against her forehead.

She smiled up at him. "Why did I find happiness, but Faith didn’t?" she wondered.

Spike shrugged. "I knew that I wouldn’t’ve been so miserable all those years."

"You don’t feel guilty now?"

"Never."

* * *

"I’m really gonna miss you guys…" There were tears in Faith’s eyes as she pulled Xander in for a huge bear hug.

He patted her softly on the back, and Anya was proud of the fact that she didn’t even get jealous. Although that could be because Faith was squeezing her ribs now.

"Let him ‘catch’ you in skimpy lingerie," Faith whispered her advice into Anya’s ear.

A grin crossed Anya’s face at that. "You should return next year," she decided. "And next time you can actually take your midterms!" she added perkily.

Faith laughed at that. She briefly turned to Jonathan and gave the stunned young man a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Bye, cutie," she said with a little smile.

Jonathan’s face flamed, but he kind of had this goofy smile on his face as well.

"Hey, E." Faith turned to the final pair she was leaving behind. "Spike."

Elizabeth caught her in a hug first. "I’m so sorry we drifted apart," she whispered softly.

"These things happen," Faith assured her. "And, hey, you’re still one of the best friends I ever had." She flashed Elizabeth a hint of her old wicked smile. "Mind if I cop a quick feel off your stud?"

Elizabeth laughed. She hadn’t seen how gaunt Faith had become in the past few weeks until now, but it was nice to see that some of the spark was still left. "Be careful," she advised. "He bites."

"I’ll bet he does," Faith agreed with a wink before practically leaping into Spike’s arms. "I’ll miss you, handsome," she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "You treat my E right, now…"

"No worries, luv," Spike assured her. "Just take care ‘f yourself."

"Can do." Faith gave his ass a playful little pinch and got one in return before she slung her bag over her shoulder and got into the van where Oz and Devon, together with Tara and Willow, were accompanying her on the ride back to Boston. With a little wave, she shut the door behind her.

…And then it swung open one last time. "Don’t ride that stallion of yours too hard, E!" were Faith’s last laughing words before the van drove off, and one of the residents of Westing House was gone for good.

Elizabeth flushed slightly and gave Spike a shy smile up through her lashes. He merely chuckled in response.

"Um…" Jonathan’s voice was almost too quiet to hear at first. "…so, um…whatdowedonow?" He practically spit out that last phrase.

"I vote for movie, popcorn, and house lounge," Xander said with a sigh.

"Second," Spike agreed, playing idly with the unlit cigarette in his hands. He wasn’t planning on lighting it, of course. That would completely derail the Get Spike To Quit Smoking Campaign number sixteen.

Elizabeth watched Jonathan slowly backing away from the group and bit her lip as an idea came to her. "Hey, Xander, you’ve got a copy of Star Wars, right?"

Jonathan’s retreat stopped. Bingo.

"Sure," Xander agreed. "I’ve got the entire trilogy, actually."

"Good," Elizabeth said with a smile, "’cause I’ve only seen the second one."

"Christ, Summers!" Spike exclaimed in exasperation. "Haven’t you seen any good movies?"

She turned to Jonathan. "Have you seen it?" she asked kindly.

"Are you kidding?!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "And who on earth let you see The Empire Strikes Back without watching A New Hope? That’s, like…sacrilege!"

Elizabeth took his arm and led him inside with the group. "I heard it was the best one," she shrugged. "Plus, I already know the whole ‘I am your father’ thing."

"But you haven’t seen the first one?" Jonathan persisted. "You don’t know about the Death Star?"

"Was that some lame eighties band?" she couldn’t help but tease Spike, who was in front of them on the stairs.

"And you haven’t seen The Return of the Jedi, either," Jonathan tisked.

"What else can there possibly be to see?" she shrugged. "I already know the whole Darth Vader thing…"

"More stuff happens than that!" Jonathan insisted.

"What, is Leia, like, his sister?" she asked with complete sarcasm.

Spike and Xander couldn’t conceal their snickers as they entered the lounge.

Jonathan merely shook his head ruefully. "You have to watch all three of them in order," he insisted. "And, preferably, not The Phantom Menace as well…"

"I sense an afternoon plan." Elizabeth pulled Jonathan onto the couch beside her. "Just we five left in Westing House on a Sunday afternoon…"

"Always fun to just all hang together," Spike agreed, landing in the seat on the other side of her and shaking his head at his girlfriend’s not-so-subtly. Although, maybe it worked. After all, he hadn’t heard Jonathan talk so much in ever…

Humorous side note: I actually said the line "What, is Leia, like, his sister?" totally sarcasically after I saw The Empire Strikes Back the first time. When we got to that part in The Return of the Jedi, my parents finally couldn't hold it in anymore and started cracking up. Ah, amusing childhood stories... And, yes, I know it's unbelieveable that Elizabeth and Spike were actually courteous enough to take separate showers. Since the moaning behind the shower curtain is one of my current pet peeves, I decided to have them be actually considerate of their neighbors. ~_^ Sorry to see Faith go for now, but you never know what will happen next, so you better just keep reviewing. ^_^

Chapter Eighteen

Elizabeth awoke when a tentative knock sounded on their door. It was a testament to how she now thought of Spike’s room as ‘theirs’ that she didn’t even hesitate to answer for him. "Yeah? Who is it?"

"Willow," Willow announced through the door just as Spike was beginning to stir beside Elizabeth. "Your dad’s on the phone," she informed her now semi-roommate.

"Be there in a sec!" Elizabeth called out, scrambling out of bed and into her bathrobe.

Now alone on the mattress, Spike let out a slight moan of complaint, his arm reaching out in vain across the section of the bed she’d just vacated.

"Be right back," she assured him with a quick kiss to the forehead. "I’ve just gotta take this call. This could be it!" She went over to open the door and accepted the cordless phone from Willow with an embarrassed little smile. "Thanks," she said for the umpteenth time since Willow had agreed to help her keep her little relationship with Spike secret from her father’s inquiries.

Willow shrugged like it was nothing. "Return to phone soon-ish," she requested before heading back to her room.

Elizabeth shut the door again and crawled back into bed with Spike before hitting the talk button. "Hi, daddy!" she said in the most cheerful voice she could manage.

"How’s my little Buffy doing?" Hank responded just as perkily.

From his position nuzzled against her throat, Spike tried desperately not to laugh. Elizabeth gave his behind a playful little swat in response, reminding him to behave.

"Great!" she said enthusiastically. "I’ve got all my finals over the next week, so I’m studying pretty much nonstop, but other than that…"

"Hard tests this semester, pumpkin?" Hank asked.

"Some more than others," she agreed, "but I think I’m ready."

"That’s great, sweetie!" Hank said happily. "I’m glad to hear you’re doing so well. Especially after that nasty break-up you went through…"

"Oh. Yeah," she tried to sound somewhat subdued.

She and Riley had gotten together for lunch only once after they’d broken up simply in order to get the ‘official’ story of their break-up straight so that they could both fool their overbearing parents. They were both off the hook now, but Elizabeth was still forced to pretend that she was moping over Riley. It was very irritating.

"Well, I’ve got a lot of other stuff going on, so it’s better now," she informed her father.

At that moment, Spike decided that it was absolutely vital to demonstrate some of that lovely ‘other stuff’, and his hand snaked between her thighs, casually swirling the wiry dark hair there around his fingers. She turned to give him an annoyed look, but he merely flashed her an unrepentant smile in response.

"Yeah, I’m glad everything’s going better for you," Hank said, oblivious to what was happening at the other end of the phone. "You know…" he began cautiously, "the Mansfields’ son Richard is a freshman there, too, this year. Maybe the two of you could hook up."

Spike scowled at the phone.

Elizabeth gave the hand between her legs a reassuring little squeeze and guided it to her more intimate regions. "I can handle my own love life, dad!" she informed him in the best whiny teenager voice she could manage.

Hank chuckled slightly. "I’m sure you can, princess," he quickly amended. "But if you’re ever interested…"

"I’ll let you know," she assured him wearily. One of Spike’s talented digits slipped into her inner folds just then, and she bit back the little gasp that came to her lips.

"That’s fine," Hank agreed, absentmindedly shuffling through the papers in his briefcase. "Look, Buffy, the reason I called you is…" He paused when he couldn’t find the file he was looking for.

Elizabeth held her breath and crossed her fingers. "Yes?" she asked nervously.

"It turns out," Hank admitted wryly, "that I have to be in Berlin over Christmas. Your mom’s flying down to Mexico to stay at the vacation house down there. Now, if you wanted, you could go with your mom but…"

"She has business?" Elizabeth asked, perhaps a little too eagerly.

"We’re working with Delaney on the merger so…yeah, it probably won’t be a lot of fun down there this year," Hank agreed.

"So, should I just stay here with friends?" she asked hopefully. Spike’s finger had slipped deep inside her by now, but it paused in its ministrations while the two of them both held their breaths, waiting for Hank’s answer.

"That would probably work out best," he agreed apologetically. "Now, I know you had your heart set on coming home for the holidays, but…you can find somewhere to go, right, pumpkin?"

Elizabeth tried not to sound excited, which was rather hard given that she’d just gotten her Christmas wish and Spike’s hand was once again pushing her towards her climax. "I-I’ll manage," she replied somewhat shakily. His fingers had now found that sensitive spot deep within her and were stroking it rhythmically. "I’ve got some friends that are staying in town…"

"See?" Hank said in relief. "It’ll be fun after all. Really sorry about this, kiddo, but you know…"

" ‘Business comes first’," she quoted with a little eye-roll.

"I’ll be sure to call you on Christmas," Hank insisted. "Be sure to give me the number where you’re staying."

"I-I will, dad…" Spike’s lips were on the soft spot at the curve of her throat now while his fingers coaxed her pleasure higher and higher…

"Well, I’ve got to make a few more calls before I get on the plane, so bye Buffy!" Hank said cheerfully.

"Bye, dad," Elizabeth managed to get out before clicking the phone off. Only seconds later, blinding white lights exploded before her, and her entire body rocked and trembled as the pleasure washed over her. "Yes, Spike!" she let out in a strangled whimper.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered against her ear as she fell back down to earth beside him. Cautiously, he withdrew his fingers from her once more.

She lay there in lazy contentment for a few seconds before dropping the phone off on the nightstand and turning in his arms so that she was facing him once more. "You’re a bad, bad man," she informed him with a mock-scowl. "What if my father had heard that?"

"The badest," Spike agreed with a small smile, his hand reaching up to lightly cup her breast. "And I would’ve told him that I was busy ravishin’ his daughter, so he should just butt out."

"Oh yeah," she rolled her eyes, but there was a little smile on her face, "I’m sure that would’ve gone over well…"

"You din’t seem to be objectin’ at the time," Spike retorted with a sly smile.

"Not…complaining," she agreed with a little grin, her fingers delicately tracing the scar on his eyebrow.

He leaned in to accept a sweet kiss from her lips in response. Even though the actual contact was fleeting, they were both panting slightly afterwards.

"So," he began with a sheepish little smile, "you’re spendin’ Christmas with the Giles’ then?"

"I don’t know," she teased. "Sleeping out on the street is very appealing…"

He chuckled. "You want me to tell my mum you can make it?" he offered.

"Don’t bother," Elizabeth insisted with a little smile. "I have to see her to give my final presentation tomorrow, anyway. I can tell her then."

Spike gave her a shy smile and placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. "Mum really likes you," he commented.

"The feeling’s mutual," she agreed.

Something powerful flashed in the cerulean depths of his eyes. "I really like you, too," he informed her with another soft kiss to her throat.

"Mmm," she murmured contentedly, "I’d kinda gathered that."

He kissed her several more times in response, but in the back of his mind he took note that she hadn’t even reciprocated that statement. Given that every day he was getting closer and closer to uttering those three little words that could change everything, this was mildly worrisome. But not that important at the moment, so he banished his concerns from his mind.

"We’ve got a slight problem," he finally informed her with a sigh.

"Oh?" She looked up at him worriedly.

He gave her a rueful smile. "I wanna ravish you right now, but if we don’t study for the history final, we’re both screwed."

"In more ways than one," she couldn’t help but joke.

He raised an eyebrow in response.

"Right," she agreed with a little sigh. "Mind-blowing sex or homework?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Spike agreed, "’s not really much of a contest, now, is it?"

"Mmm-mmm," she agreed before her expression hardened. "But we absolutely can’t spend the entire weekend in bed," she insisted.

"Right," Spike agreed mock-seriously, his lips nibbling at her ear as he spoke.

"Mmm," she murmured in appreciation, "b-because we’re both mature adults and-oh god!" She clutched his mouth to her breast, her body writhing beneath him in pleasure.

He whimpered slightly at the feel of her hips undulating against his and hardened in response.

She reached down to stroke him then, returning the pleasure he gave her. Her small hand wrapped around his girth as she began to pump up and down, and up and…

"Need you now!" Spike gasped out, his eyes rolling back in their sockets. Shakily, one of his hands reached out for the bedside drawer…

And Elizabeth batted it away. "No rubber," she insisted.

He looked down at her with a lust-fogged gaze. "But, um…we need the, uh…protection…" He was finding it incredibly difficult to think what with the way her hand grasped him.

"We keep up the way we’re going, and you’re going to go broke by the end of the month from buying condoms," she teased.

His brow furrowed slightly as he tired to concentrate on the conversation. "They give ‘em away for free at student health," he informed her.

She nodded. "And they also give away these little pills that are just as effective," she teased lightly. Then her expression softened. "I figured it was probably a good idea since, y’know, I want to feel you…"

He nodded in agreement and returned to her embrace, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss. Her tongue joined his eagerly as her legs slid around his waist, bringing the soft head of his cock up against her moist folds.

She gasped at her first feel of a bare male member pressing against her and then slowly into her. She had thought it was good before, but nothing compared to feel of his contour snuggly within her, his soft sensitive skin rubbing against her inner walls.

Spike moaned against her as her flesh molded against his like sword about its scabbard, the feel of her heat directly against his more powerful than he could bear. He began to thrust deeply within her, using all the control he had to keep each stroke long and sure, pounding the sensitive spot by her womb with every push.

Elizabeth cried out and clutched his body tighter against hers, wanting to feel all his flesh now that she’d gotten a sample. Her hands outlined every strong muscle of his back while her toes gently kneaded his ass as she pulled him back inside of her after every out-stroke.

He felt himself about to explode at the way she was holding him and reached down between their bodies to find her sensitive nub.

She cried aloud and came at the twin stimulation to her clit and g-spot, gasping out his name in frenzied cries as she did so.

He let himself go then and flooded her womb with his semen, murmuring her name against her hair as he spent himself.

She gasped at the feel of his warm seed spurting into her body, her fingers clutching his hair, pulling him in for a passionate kiss as their bodies joined in the way nature had intended for them.

The kiss continued long after their climaxes faded, but their bodies persisted in remaining linked, savoring every moment that they were together.

"Wow!" Elizabeth finally gasped as she broke away for air. "That was really…wow!"

Spike finally slipped out of her reluctantly and rolled to land at her side. "Wow," he repeated simply, staring up at the ceiling, still stunned at what they had just experienced. It had always been amazing with her, better than with anyone he’d ever been with before, but nothing could have prepared him for that.

"If I had known," she panted slightly between words, "that it would be…that good…I would’ve gotten on the pill a long time ago…"

"Yeah…" he agreed with a gasp, his arm shakily reaching out to hold her body, pulling her to him as they enjoyed the afterglow.

"I’ve never, y’know…without before," she admitted, somewhat embarrassed. "It’s…different."

"Different as in ‘better’," he agreed with a chuckle, nuzzling her hair softly and enjoying the feel of her hot little body sprawled out atop his.

"Thanks for staying with me long enough for me to find out," she whispered against the hard muscles of his chest. "It…means a lot to me…"

"Could never leave you," he informed her passionately, giving her as much of a squeeze as his arms could manage. It seemed like his entire body had turned to Jell-O.

"Good," she sighed softly. "Because I’ve never…cared for anyone as much as you," she confessed shyly, turning her head so that she could look up into his eyes. "You drive me crazy, both in the annoying way and in the I-want-to-jump-you-right-now way." She giggled slightly. "But," she bit her lower lip and crawled up so that her face hovered right over his, "I really, really like you…"

A wide smile lit up his face as several subconscious fears were put to rest. "Feel the same way about you, kitten," he agreed, pulling her down for a passionate kiss. And maybe more, he added in his head.

She pulled away and let out a disappointed little sigh a minute later, though. "Unfortunately," she complained, "we’ve both still got finals to study for."

"Always knew school was evil," he groaned, his own disappointed sigh echoing her own as she slipped from his arms and headed for the bathroom to clean up…

* * *

Elizabeth chewed the end of her pencil and frowned, her lower lip jutting out in a pout that was undoubtedly the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

"1879," she finally decided.

"Right you are, pet," he agreed with a little smile. "Now hit me."

"If you insist," she jokingly cocked her fist.

"Oi! Not like that," he held up his hands in protest. "Plus, you wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses, would you?" he teased.

She crawled up onto the couch beside him and placed a quick kiss on the bridge of his nose right where the wire-frames in question rested. "The only reason you wear those things now is because you know I think they’re sexy," she accused.

A seductive smirk curled at the edges of his lips, and he opened his mouth to reply when a voice cut him off.

"Other people are trying to study," Anya pointed out bluntly, looking up briefly from the circle of papers that surrounded her, each containing the secrets to making lots and lots of money in Anya’s scrawling handwriting.

"Sorry," Elizabeth said apologetically, retreating to her half of the couch. "So, uh…what were the causes of the Great Depression?" she asked Spike.

"Well, the really obvious immediate ones were the Stock Market crash an’-"

Elizabeth ticked off the points on the review sheet as he made them, glancing around the room at all the studying students and smiling inwardly. At about noon on Sunday, every single resident of Westing House had almost simultaneously become tired of studying alone, and they’d each trailed into the lounge to work there all within an hour.

Even Jonathan, whom Elizabeth had only seen once since the Great Star Wars Marathon, was sitting in the armchair in the corner, feverishly scribbling away at a problem set.

Next to him, Devon had plugged in his laptop and was busy writing one of his numerous papers. If nothing else, his break-up with Faith had driven him to turn to constant work in order to escape the less-than-pleasant aftereffects of Faith’s final departure. Elizabeth didn’t know what Faith had said to him on the trip back to Boston, but the very Monday he had returned, Devon had gone to his advisor and declared himself a journalism major. Elizabeth had been amazed at just how into the topic he was after she had had her first conversation with him about it. But it did mean that he had tons to write now.

Tara was in a similar predicament. For her honor’s project she was writing a book of short stories, and half of it was due at the end of this semester. Being the dedicated student that she was, she’d already finished. But her perfectionism meant that she was running them all through with a fine-toothed comb now, while writing her other papers at the same time.

Willow sat beside her on the other couch, fumbling over the data from her own honors classes. Elizabeth found the pair of them particularly cute; both brows furrowed as they scribbled intently on their papers, occasionally breaking off to exchange shy smiles and tell each other how close they were to being done.

In front of the couch, Xander was openly panicking. He’d somehow managed to get three finals on Wednesday, and he tended to panic when he had even one test a day. Elizabeth truly didn’t envy him as she watched him juggle three textbooks all of which he’d been neglecting for almost a month.

The center of the room was clearly Anya’s territory. The young econ major apparently studied through creating elaborate shapes and patterns out of her note pages and then rearranging them every five minutes. Elizabeth wasn’t quite sure how the system worked, but given Anya’s impeccable GPA she had no doubt that it did.

Oz was listening to his headphones in the other armchair, pencil tapping against his paper in a drumbeat whenever he wasn’t making notes for his paper. What kind of paper anyone could possibly write just from listening to music, Elizabeth had no clue, but it sounded cool.

"…And a partridge in a pear tree," Spike finally concluded his recitation. Her foot had somehow ended up in his lap in the meantime, and he was gently massaging her toes. Cor, it was hard to study when all he wanted to was shag her until she couldn’t walk!

"Yup," she agreed, popping the ‘p’, "looks like you’re ready."

"Don’t s’pose you wanna go back to my room then?" he asked in a sultry whisper.

"The flaw in that plan is that I’m not ready yet," she informed him, whapping the hand that was sneaking up her thigh with her notebook. "I still need to go over all those dates a few more times."

Spike let out a resigned sigh. "OK, luv," he agreed. "You ready?"

"Oh, yeah, baby," she said with a grin.

He gave her an odd look and a little gulp before he started down the study sheet. "Boston Tea Party?" he began.

Elizabeth’s nose scrunched up as she ticked through the list of mnemonic devices she and Spike had come up with to help her; memorization was definitely her weak point. "17…" she began. "Well, it’s before the revolution, so it’s probably one of those 1770s dates…"

"Yeah," Spike kept his tone neutral.

"1773?" she guessed.

"Right again, pet," he nodded. "You know these better’n you think."

She frowned slightly. "I really have to get good grades this semester," she insisted. "Give me some more…"

* * *

However, despite studying all afternoon and evening as well as forbidding sex the previous night so that she could sleep, Elizabeth still began to panic when Professor Hall announced that they only had five minutes left. She quickly scribbled in all the guesses she had for the dates but was unsure of and just didn’t bother to write in the names she couldn’t remember for her essays.

She finally got her paper turned in with less than a minute to go. Fortunately, almost half the class was still in there as well, so she could at least hope that there would be a curve that would help her.

Spike, of course, had finished almost fifteen minutes before her and gone out. Elizabeth actually suspected that he’d finished before that but stuck around a little while longer in order to keep her from freaking out that she was flunking. She found him now outside the lecture hall door, staring wistfully at the unlit cigarette between he fingers.

"You know, you don’t have to try to quit smoking again right during finals week," she assured him.

He eyed her and then the cigarette warily. "I think ‘s callin’ to me, luv," he sighed, "whisperin’ how good it will be if I just give in…"

She gave him a fond smile and took his arm. "C’mon," she said, plucking the temptation from his grasp, "I need some cheesecake and a latte after that horrible exam."

"That bad?" he asked sympathetically.

She groaned and let her head fall to his shoulder. "I’m gonna flunk out," she insisted.

"You’re not gonna flunk out," Spike assured her. "Did you answer all the essay questions?"

"Yeah," she agreed, "but my answer for number four was really crappy."

"That the one on patterns of immigrant migration?" he asked.

She nodded. "Ugh! We never even discussed that in class! And it was, like, ten pages in the book…"

He shrugged. "My answer was half-assed, too," he assured her. "But at least you got a answer. That guy who turned his test in right before me?" he reminded her.

Her brow furrowed. "Is he even in our class?" she asked.

Spike chuckled at that. "Not for long. He left the entire front page blank." Out of habit, he dug around in his duster pocket, found a cigarette, and lit it before he’d even realized it. "Damn," he sighed, watching the smoke curl up from it ruefully before he shrugged and took a deep drag.

Elizabeth didn’t comment. Nagging was quite possibly the least effective way of getting him to quit; the silent support thing seemed to work much better. "So, you’re done then," she remembered, a hint of jealousy in her voice. "That means you actually get to sleep tonight."

"Had too much ‘f that last night," he teased, his arm slipping around her waist to hold her to him.

"I still have my English paper due on Friday," she reminded him.

"I know," he agreed with a sigh. A wicked smile lit up his lips. "Don’t s’pose you’d be willin’ to plagiarize one of my old papers to give yourself some extra free time?" he teased.

"Mmm…tempting," she gave him a little smile, "but I’ll pass."

He gave her a little wink and a smile. "Well, there goes my evenin’," he mock-lamented.

"You can proofread it for me when I’m done," she offered, taking a seat at one of the cozy two-person tables that lined the campus coffee shop.

He let his bag collapse in the chair across from hers. "Latte and cheesecake," he repeated her order. "You want that plain?"

"See if they’ve got chocolate cheesecake," she requested. "If not, I just want strawberries on top." She flipped open a notebook from her own bag and studiously began taking notes.

"Be right back, luv." He brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead before taking his place at the end of the rather long line.

Elizabeth allowed herself a little smile as she outlined her paper. For all of Spike’s badass exterior, he really was a hopeless gentleman inside. He had all sorts of cute habits like holding open doors and wrapping his coat around her shoulders at even her slightest shiver. And he could do it all while throwing not-so-subtle innuendoes her way and arguing with her at the same time. It was one of the things she loved most about him.

"Ohmygod, Bitsy!" a high-pitched screech interrupted her studying…well, OK, her Spike daydreaming while pretending to study…

She cringed inwardly. There really was only one person who had ever called her that, and she had actually found it more annoying than ‘Buffy’, given how sensitive she was about her height…or complete lack thereof. "Kathy!" she managed to smile as she looked up and discovered the girl she’d managed not to see in almost two months.

"Ohmygod!" That seemed to be Kathy’s new catch phrase. "I haven’t seen you in, like…a long time!"

"What a coincidence," Elizabeth said dryly, "I haven’t seen you, either."

"Imagine that!" Kathy obviously didn’t get the joke. "So, like, what are you doing?" she asked, snapping at her gum as she did so.

"Studying. Finals." Elizabeth managed a little smile and an eye-roll to indicate how much she’d rather be doing something else…or someone else, as the case may be.

"Yuck!" Kathy announced. "I had those, too. They sucked."

"Big time," Elizabeth agreed. "So, how’ve you been?"

"Ohmygod! So, so cool! You?"

"The same." Elizabeth wondered what ever could’ve possessed her to want to hang out with Kathy’s crowd over Westing House. She was sure the girl didn’t try to piss her off, but she still managed to do so all the time.

"You ever manage to get out of that hellhole?" Kathy’s demonstrated Elizabeth’s point even as she was thinking it.

"No, I still live in Westing House," she admitted.

"Isn’t that, like, the loser house?"

It was the first time the blond that had accompanied Kathy spoke up. Elizabeth hadn’t even noticed her until then.

Elizabeth managed a tightlipped smile. "It’s nice," she insisted. "I like it there."

The blond gave her a disbelieving look. "I heard that, like, everyone there is a geek."

"Bitsy’s not a geek," Kathy insisted. "It’s not her fault where she got stuck. I mean, hey, I was trapped there for a couple of weeks, too."

Elizabeth managed a patient smile. After all, Kathy was standing up for her in her own way.

The blond girl shrugged. "I guess," she agreed with a toss of her hair.

"Ohmygod!" Kathy abruptly exclaimed. "You two don’t know each other, do you?" She practically bounced in excited when Elizabeth shook her head. "This is Harmony," Kathy presented her friend, "and this is Bitsy!"

"Elizabeth," Elizabeth clarified, offering Harmony her hand.

Harmony eyed it skeptically before determining that the quality of Elizabeth’s manicure probably indicated that the hand would be clean enough to touch. She accepted the quick shake.

"Ohmygod!" Kathy’s cry was beginning to become something of a chorus. "There’s that guy!" she exclaimed, turning to Elizabeth. "Y’know, the asshole?"

Spike stepped up to their table at that moment. One eyebrow skeptically raised in Kathy’s direction, he set down Elizabeth’s latte and cheesecake in front of her. "They only had strawberry, luv," he said apologetically before moving to take his seat.

With a sudden quirk of humor, Elizabeth caught him before he could go and gave his lips a quick kiss right in front of Kathy and Harmony. When he finally sat down, Kathy’s jaw was hanging on its hinges.

"Oh. My. God!" She caught Harmony’s hand and practically had to yank her from the table; the blond woman seemed to be practically drooling over the table at the sight of Spike.

Elizabeth watched them go with mild amusement. " ‘Ohmygod’ count totaled at six," she informed Spike with a wry smile.

"You had that beat in less than a minute the last time we had sex," he teased.

She blushed and swatted at his arm playfully. "Pig," she sulked, digging into her dessert.

"Oi! I bring you cheesecake, an’ all I get’s ‘pig’?" he complained.

She gave his hand a little pat. "Sorry, I guess I do owe you," she agreed before giggling. "Did you see the expression on Kathy’s face when I kissed you?"

Spike chuckled at that as well. "You know they’re gossipin’ about us right now, luv." He took a sip of his own hot chocolate.

"Let them," Elizabeth decided. "I mean, what’s more important? The gossip of people I don’t really care about or the English paper from hell…?"

Review for more...

Chapter Nineteen

"I hope you’re into necrophilia," Elizabeth announced flopping onto the couch beside Spike, "because I am sooo dead right now."

He quirked an amused eyebrow in her direction. "Got your paper all turned in then?" he inquired, his head tilted to one side as he studied the soft skin along her collarbone.

She groaned. "Ten pages of hell completed and in the prof’s mailbox," she agreed with a grimace.

"Then you’ve got no excuse for shooing me away when I…" He leaned in, lightly nipping at her flesh, trailing biting kisses down to the low neckline of her blouse.

"Mmm…" Elizabeth practically purred. "Feels good…"

"Woah! PDA alert!" Xander suddenly announced from the doorway, breaking up their little impromptu make-out session. He practically skipped into the lounge before flopping down on the other couch, remote firmly in hand.

Spike reluctantly pulled back from where he’d rather craftily managed to situate himself between Elizabeth’s thighs. After all, they hadn’t gone this long without sex since they’d first started, and both were more than eager to break their forced abstinence.

"It’s cruel and unusual," Anya agreed, following Xander into the room and settling in the seat beside. "Some of us don’t get to have sex later to work it off." She cast a pointed glance in Xander’s direction.

"Tell me about it," Xander nodded, eyes riveted to the television screen and thus completely oblivious as only a male can be.

Anya rolled her eyes and gave Elizabeth and Spike a long-suffering look. "We’re not just going to watch TV tonight," she complained, turning back to Xander.

"We’ve gotta do something while we wait for Willow and Tara," he argued, his arm draping over the couch-back for a second before oh-so-not-casually slipping down to Anya’s shoulder.

She relaxed against him but gave Elizabeth a little ‘see what I have to put up with?’ smile as she did so.

"You lovebirds coming with us tonight?" Xander asked the bleached pair, turning from his precious television for the first time since it had been activated…but only because those Reebok commercials were really annoying…

"Of course," Elizabeth agreed before Spike could get a word in. "One last night with the dorm before I flunk out," she joked lightly.

"You’re not gonna flunk out," Spike insisted for the umpteenth time. "Hell, you aced that English paper."

Elizabeth’s nose scrunched up. "I’ll probably get a ‘C’," she decided.

"‘A’," Spike countered. "Trust me, ‘ve read ‘A’ papers a hell ‘f a lot worse than that one."

"But I didn’t really participate that much in class discussions…" Elizabeth countered.

Spike waved one hand in the air dismissively. "Teacher’ll just think you’re shy," he assured her.

"Either that or I’m too busy making out with my boyfriend in class to pay attention," she countered with a quirky smile.

A wicked little smirk curled up the edges of his lips. "That too, luv," he agreed, the fire in his liquid blue eyes dancing.

"I’m impressed you’re coming with us," Anya announced, snagging the bag of Doritos that Xander had brought along and stealing a healthy handful. She began crunching away at the chips before continuing. "You know, I just figured you’d want as much time for the sex as possible."

Spike rolled his eyes. "You’re gonna have ta come up with somethin’ better’n that, Anyanka," he teased. "We’ve all become immune to your sex talk."

Elizabeth couldn’t help but agree, even though she was still proud of the fact that she hadn’t blushed.

Anya’s lip jutted out before an evil light lit up her eyes. "So, Spike," she began innocently enough, "have you enjoyed any good fellatio lately?"

Everyone in the room froze, paralyzed by the new horrifying levels of Anya’s bluntness. Every face in the room aside from the perpetrator of the comment turned a deep crimson as they all simultaneously wished they would spontaneously combust.

"Oh yeah," Anya rubbed her fingernails on her shirt, an amused grin on her face, "I’ve still got it…"

"Hey, guys," Tara popped into the room, "what…" She trailed off when she noticed the horrified looks of Spike, Xander, and Elizabeth’s faces and the pure shit-eating grin on Anya’s. "…did Anya say now?" she slightly amended her question.

Anya was the only one not too stunned to answer. "I merely asked Spike if he-"

"Stop!" Three cries shouted out in unison.

Tara seemed to shrink back. "Given the reaction, I’m guessing I don’t wanna know," she teased lightly.

"It involved-" Anya began.

"Stop!" Xander, Elizabeth, and Spike all suddenly had the strange feeling they were in a chorus.

Anya practically beamed at the success of her latest embarrass-everyone tactic and deftly linked her arm through Xander’s. He gulped in response and shifted in his jeans. This brought an even brighter smile to her face. Maybe he was finally getting the hint…

"So, I take it we’re just waiting on the lovely girlfriend of mine?" Tara asked, leaning back against the wall.

"She’s changin’," Spike provided, quirking his head in the direction of Willow’s room. "You’d think lesbians would be able to get dressed faster than other women, but nooo…"

Xander frowned. "Yeah, why is that?" he demanded.

Tara shrugged. "Whatever it takes to keep your girlfriend pleased," she said with a soft smile and a shy blush.

"Yeah, Spike," Elizabeth teased. "From now on, I expect a good half hour in the bathroom every morning followed by endless agonizing over selection of clothing, complete with tricky ‘does this make my butt look fat?’ questions."

He gave her a rakish grin. "Got a right cute butt," he countered. "Or at least you seemed to think so last night when you-"

"TMI!" Xander announced, not-so-inconspicuously shifting the pillow to cover his lap.

Anya’s mood brightened markedly. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to resort to her plan of cornering him and dropping her dress after all.

"So, yeah…" Tara couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the strangeness that was Westing House. "I’ll just go in and check to see if Willow’s ready…" She slipped into the room.

"And to sneak in a quick orgasm while she’s at it," Anya provided helpfully.

Xander’s attention was completely and utterly torn from the television. Hell, nothing was more important than lesbian sex, not even the Bond movie he’d found. "You really think they’re…" He gesticulated wildly. "In there?" He gestured to the closed door, a hopeful look on his face.

Anya rolled her eyes. "No, Xander," she informed him patiently, "I was just trying to get a rise out of you…"

"Oh." Xander looked disappointed and returned to the adventures of Pussy Galore.

Elizabeth and Spike snickered at Anya’s none-too-subtle innuendo and Xander’s complete obliviousness to it. Anya merely frowned. Perhaps she’d have to resort to knocking him unconscious to have her wicked way with him…

"We’re ready," Willow announced then, practically bursting into the lounge, a wide grin on her face.

Tara followed after her, her cheeks slightly flushed and what could only be interpreted as a sly smile on her face.

Everyone gave them a suspicious look.

"What?" Willow demanded, all wide-eyed innocence.

Anya opened her mouth to speak but then shut it again. After all, it was no fun when they made it this easy for her…

"So, uh, yeah," Willow said with a nervous laugh, "are we going then?"

Slight groans sounded throughout the room as everyone got up off of their comfy couches and slipped into various stages of winter-wear. Only Anya, who was convinced that it wasn’t cold until it was twenty below with a fifty below wind-chill, dared to go out in nothing but a jean jacket.

"Where’s Jonathan?" Xander inquired as they walked down the hall and passed the perpetually closed door.

"He went home yesterday," Elizabeth provided. "Some lucky people got done with their exams early…"

"Hey, those ‘lucky’ people as you call them," Xander defended himself, "may well have had three tests on one day. They should be pitied and cuddled, not mocked."

"You’ve been sitting on the couch for the past two days, watching ‘Fifteen Days of Bond’ non-stop," Willow retorted. "No pity or cuddling will be given."

"Wouldn’t mind handin’ out a heavy dose of mockery, though," Spike teased.

"Remind me why I didn’t just go home early again?" Xander let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Free cable and food," Anya provided.

"Ah, yes," Xander nodded sagely. "That would explain it…"

"So, where’re we eatin’?" Spike asked the once they were outside.

Instantly, the entire Westing House group hunched down into their coats, looking strangely like turtles retreating into their shells. Elizabeth wrapped her scarf around her face a couple more times just for good measure.

"I vote for somewhere nearby," Tara announced. "It’s too cold to go far."

"Wimp," Anya couldn’t help but tease. However, she led the group straight down Cedar Avenue and the nearest cluster of restaurants to their dorm.

"Quick vote," Willow announced. "Italian or Chinese?"

"Chinese." The overwhelming response won out. Only Xander pouted at the lack of pizza at their chosen restaurant.

The gaggle of frozen college students practically ran into the restaurant, all breathing deep sighs of relief as the first rush of warm air overtook them, erasing the chill of the cold New York winter.

"Heaters are all the proof I need that there is a god," Elizabeth joked, beginning the copious process of removing all her winter paraphernalia.

Spike snickered as the hood, hat, and earmuffs were all removed in turn. "A bit ‘f overkill?" he teased.

"At least my ears aren’t gonna fall off from frostbite," she countered with a little smile before she stood up on her toes and nibbled lightly on one of the frozen lobes in question. "Brr," she winced, reaching up to warm his other ear as well when she discovered they were even icier than she had imagined. "Why on earth don’t you wear a hat?"

Spike gave her a horrified look. "Bloody ‘ell! You’re channelin’ my mum!"

Tara got a mischievous look in her eyes. "Scary fact," she joked. "The longer the two of you go out, the more she’ll act like your mother, until one day…" She let the sentence trail off.

Elizabeth flashed him an unashamed grin, and Spike gulped.

"Can’t you just feel the ball and chain closing around your ankle?" Xander added.

The group giggled at Spike’s horrified expression as one of the waiters came up to seat them. He cast the apparently giddy group of students an annoyed look and practically bristled when he had to clear his throat three times before Willow heard him and turned around.

"Uh, six," she provided.

"Smoking or non-smoking?"

"Smoking!" Spike called out before someone could contradict him.

The waiter’s disdain for them increased. "This way," he grabbed a handful of menus and walked off, his nose haughtily in the air.

"It’s like the snooty French waiter of Chinese cuisine," Xander whispered softly so that only his friends could hear him.

Spike snickered, and Anya laughed aloud. Willow and Tara merely shook their heads at each other before taking their seats.

A brief chaos ensued while everyone tried to find seats next to their significant other. The solution to the puzzle was actually quite simple, but due to exam week, they were all pretty much brain-dead, even on something so simple at seating arrangements. Everyone finally settled down, they scrambled for the menus.

"It’s too bad Oz and Devon couldn’t make it," Tara commented, holding her menu out so that Willow could read it over their shoulder.

"Yeah, I feel so sorry for them," Xander said sarcastically. "Setting up for a big concert, pizza, booze, and girls all around…"

"He complains about the food," Anya picked up on the ever-important ‘pizza’ section of his rant, "but in no time he’ll be inhaling the Chow Mien like he’s been starved."

"Hey, I’m a growing boy," Xander insisted.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Oh, you’re growin’ all right…horizontally…"

Xander stuck his tongue out at the other man and flicked on of those little soy-sauce packets at him.

"No food fights in restaurants," Willow provided for the umpteenth time.

The two men both put on their best kicked puppy faces. The women just shook their heads in response.

"See, this ‘s why we need Devon an’ Oz," Spike informed Xander. "The women’ve got us hopelessly outnumbered…"

Xander nodded gravely, conceding the point.

"When was their first set again?" Elizabeth inquired, changing the subject. She took a quick sip from the water glass the snobbish and determined-to-prove-how-superior-he-was waiter had promptly brought out.

"Seven," Willow provided.

Xander checked his watch. "We’re gonna miss it," he announced.

"We’ll just catch the second one then," Anya announced. "No big."

"Would you ladies and *ahem* gentlemen," the waiter cast disapproving glances at Spike and Xander’s attire, "like anything to drink?"

"We’ll have your finest Chardonnay," Spike switched over instantly to a snooty, upper class British accent. "Do you have the ’77?"

The waiter blinked in confusion. "Huh?" he asked, somewhat dumbfounded.

"’ll just have water then, mate," Spike slipped back into his usual persona easily.

The waiter just nodded, stunned, while he shakily took everyone else’s orders. The others had quite a difficult time not giggling uncontrollably at the little stunt Spike had pulled. Once the pompous man had slipped back into the kitchen, they all broke out into laughter.

"Mmm," Elizabeth nuzzled his throat lightly, "where’d you pick up that sexy accent?"

Spike’s eyes widened in horror. "Don’ call it ‘sexy’," he shuddered. "My dad talks like that…"

Elizabeth’s brow wrinkled for a second. "OK, mild case of the wiggins," she agreed.

"Speaking of which," Willow sipped her own water, "is your dad coming into town for Christmas?"

"Yup," Spike agreed, giving Elizabeth an amused little glance. "On Sunday Elizabeth gets to face both the parents."

"I’m fully expecting him to demand to know what my intentions are towards his son," Elizabeth said lightly.

"Meeting the parents," Willow said sympathetically, "always scary."

"Says the girl who hasn’t met mine," Tara countered with a little smile.

"I thought that was because we didn’t want them to burn us at the stake for being ‘unnatural heathens’," Willow countered.

Tara grimaced. "That about covers it."

"I don’t see what all the fuss is about," Anya felt obliged to add her own unique two cents. "After all, you merely have a temporary arranged to obtain pleasing orgasms. Now, if you wanted to make a contract to produce offspring, then I could see why parents would be involved. After all, they need to endure the continued success of their byproducts."

Everyone laughed.

"Guess that means your going to have to meet my dad before we ‘make a contract to produce offspring’," Elizabeth teased.

"Cor, that metaphor’s even scarier than the ball an’ chain," Spike flushed slightly.

"I try my best," Anya agreed cheerfully.

"Not half as scary as my dad, though," Elizabeth countered.

Spike gave her a shy little smile. "Think I could handle it," he assured her, "long as it was for you, pet."

"Aw," Tara mock-sniffed, "he’s so cute! You gotta keep this one…"

Spike scowled at her. Willow’s girlfriend had been rather timid and shy around him until just this year when she realized that the whole Big Bad thing was a complete charade and he was just a big softy underneath it…a big softy that was fun to tease. And she did so now mercilessly.

Tara gave him an unrepentant smile and swirled the ice about in her glass. "What are you doing over break?" she asked Anya.

"Following various paternal units around the world and studying the ways they make money," Anya announced.

"Gosh darnit," Xander slapped the table, "that was what I wanted to do!"

Anya batted him in the shoulder in response. "Jerk," she said good-naturedly. "And it’s not like you’re doing anything better…"

"You going home?" Elizabeth inquired.

Xander let out a snort of laughter. "My entire vacation revolves around a crafty plan to avoid going home," he clarified. "I figure that if I live on the streets all of vacation, my parents will forget I exist, and I’ll be free."

Spike frowned. "You’re kidding ‘bout the streets part, right?" he demanded. "’Cause if you need a place to stay…"

"It’s cool," Xander assured him. "I’ve got friends to stay with. After all, I wouldn’t want to break up the looove nest at the Giles’ this Christmas…"

Spike and Elizabeth blushed slightly since, yeah, that had kind of been what they’d had in mind.

"Ooh, you got Elizabeth’s ears to turn pink!" Anya announced in delight. "Very good." She gave Xander a quick peck on the cheek in response.

He got this rather goofy smile on his face.

Spike just shook his head. Maybe he should corner his friend this evening and instruct him in the proper method of pester-er, courting a woman.

"We can hardly wait for tomorrow," Willow said with a wide grin. "Our flight leaves at eight, you know."

"Yes," Spike rolled his eyes, "please tell us more ‘f the details of your trip. ‘Cause we haven’t heard enough about Mexico yet."

Tara flicked a soy-sauce packet at him. Willow turned to look at her girlfriend in disbelief, but she just smiled and shrugged in response.

"It’s irresistible, isn’t it?" Xander grinned at Tara’s latest step over onto the path of annoying Spike.

"I’m surrounded," Willow sighed.

"You’re surrounded?" Spike retorted, noticing the evil smiles every other person at the table was casting in his direction.

Pompous Waiter, fortunately, saved the day. "Are you ready to order?"

"Oh yeah, I’d like the Chow Mien," Xander announced. "Like, two orders of it."

The waiter raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

Elizabeth and Anya just snickered amongst themselves. "You know him too well," Elizabeth accused.

Anya nodded. "If only he’d realize that…"

* * *

It wasn’t until they’d finished dinner and gotten to the Blue Club that Elizabeth and Anya had a chance to really talk by themselves, though.

Anya winced visibly when she and Elizabeth were left alone at the table, Willow and Tara having gone off to dance and Xander and Spike acquiring the night’s drinks. The look on the other girl’s face was really just too evil.

"Payback’s a bitch," Elizabeth agreed with a wide grin. "So, you and Xander - why no orgasms?"

"It’s not my fault," Anya insisted. "He’s just…oblivious. I think he’s taking things slow or trying to be slick or something."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Have you tried jumping him yet?" she suggested. "Even the most oblivious guys seem to understand that one."

"I’m seriously considering it," Anya nodded morosely. "Underwear or no underwear?" she asked Elizabeth’s advice.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. "You’re seriously…?" she began in disbelief.

"I think full nudity is the only thing that’s going to get his attention, yeah," Anya said with a bemused smile. "I mean, what did you use on Spike?"

"Well, Spike practically clubbed me over the head and grunted ‘Ungh! My woman!’," Elizabeth joked. "But, with the sex…" She frowned. "Yeah, I pretty much had to tackle him to the bed and rip his clothes off," she agreed.

"Guys have gotten all sensitive," Anya complained. "It’s like they’re the ones who want the deep, meaningful relationships instead of just the enjoyable orgasms."

Elizabeth raised one eyebrow. "You don’t want a ‘deep, meaningful relationship’ with Xander?" she inquired.

"I can’t have the sex, too?" Anya pouted.

Elizabeth flashed her a wry grin. "There’s nothing to say you can’t. You’ll just have to jump him," she concluded.

"I’d pretty much already decided that," Anya agreed. "I would consider the dance floor to be an excellent place for jumpage."

Elizabeth giggled. "That’s absolutely correct. Now, where’s that sexy boyfriend of mine so that I can demonstrate for you?"

Anya grinned, but then her brow furrowed. "Yes, what is taking them so long?" she demanded…

* * *

"What the bloody hell is your problem?" Spike demanded the instant he and Xander were out of the hearing range of their two female companions.

"Problem?" Xander asked, perplexed.

"Anyanka," Spike tilted his head in the direction of the two blondes seated at the table. "She’s goin’ stir crazy waitin’ for you to jump her."

"Ya think?" Xander frowned slightly and glanced back at the two blondes. As he watched, they both burst out laughing about something or other.

Spike rolled his eyes heavenwards. "Listen," he said wearily, picking up their drinks and nodding to the bartender in thanks, "we are going to go back to the table. You are going to sit down right next to Anya. You are going to kiss her. Then, you are going to ask her to dance. This will, hopefully, leading to the two of you heading back to the dorm early." He had deliberately taken on clear, precise, formal tones as he made that speech, so that there was no way Xander could misunderstand. "Got it, mate?" he demanded.

Xander just nodded, eyes wide.

"And contrary to whatever image Anyanka may portray, she’s not quite so secure in her relationships," Spike added. "You hurt her…"

"I would never," Xander insisted vehemently.

"Good," Spike let out an exasperated sigh, "now let’s go."

* * *

Elizabeth watched with amusement as their missing male counterparts suddenly materialized from the crowd, Spike firmly and confidently in the lead and Xander hovering behind a ways, looking nervous.

"He looks like he just had some sense talked into him," Anya commented. "Give Spike some extra nice orgasms tonight for that."

Elizabeth grinned, her eyes raking up and down her lover’s body. "I have every intention of doing so," she agreed.

"Doing what?" Spike asked curiously, settling himself in the seat beside her.

She leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "You’ll find out tonight," she whispered against his lips before kissing him once more.

"Hmph," Anya complained as Xander sat down beside her. "Now I have to watch them and get all wound up without-"

Xander tapped her on the shoulder.

"Wha-Mmm…" Anya murmured contentedly as his lips pressed up against hers, hesitant at first, but then demanding when he felt her respond against him.

"You wanna dance?" Xander asked, pulling away slightly.

"Can we grind against each other erotically?" Anya only half-teased.

"That was the idea," Xander agreed, taking her hand and leading her out onto the floor.

Elizabeth sighed and pulled away from Spike’s lips, resting her head in the crook of his throat. "It’s about time," she breathed a sigh of relief. "All the UST between the two of them was driving me crazy."

"Tell me ‘bout it," Spike agreed.

"Makes me wanna go back to the dorm and work all the tension out," she whispered into his ear.

"Why, Miss Summers," Spike couldn’t help but tease, "are you trying to seduce me?"

"Please don’t tell me I’ll have to resort to Anya’s corner-him-and-strip-naked technique," she retorted lightly.

"What about your whole ‘last night out with our pals, got the whole break to make out’ plan?" he inquired, one eyebrow quirked.

She lightly bit the soft skin right over his Adam’s Apple. "Friends hung out with," she whispered huskily, "make out now."

"Been reduced to a cave-girl now, have we?" he teased lightly.

"You complaining?"

"Not in the slightest."

Feedback is always appreciated.

Chapter Twenty

"Mmm…" Elizabeth murmured against Spike’s lips as the two of them staggered back towards the bed. Her hands grazed across the strong outlines of his body, brushing his clothes aside as she did so.

"Been too long," Spike agreed, his lips abandoning hers to trail feather-light kisses down the side of her throat. His mouth latched onto one particularly sensitive spot, right over her throbbing pulse point, and began to suck and bite vigorously.

"Oh, god!" The buttons she was trying to unfasten suddenly became too complicated, and she yanked at the fabric, pulling his shirt open at the cost of two of the white buttons that zinged about the room before falling to the floor.

"I liked this shirt," he protested half-heartedly. His own hands strayed to the zipper at the back of her strappy little dress and slowly pulled it all the way down…

"I’ll fix it for you later," she assured him, slipping out of her dress and allowing it to pool on the floor about her feet. Instantly, she leapt up into his arms, her legs wrapping around her waist as she ground her aching need against his.

"Cor, luv, you tryin’ ta kill me or what?" His accent always roughened with passion. It was one of the things she liked most about jumping him.

"Mmm-hmm," she agreed unabashedly, grinding her hips down into his still-clad ones.

"Christ!" he gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head as he finally staggered backward and crashed into the edge of the bed.

They fell onto the mattress in a mass of tangled limbs, kissing and petting all the while.

"Way, way too long," Elizabeth repeated Spike’s sentiments from earlier. Her hand slipped between their bodies and began fumbling with his belt.

He assisted her and then lay back with a contented smile on his face as she pulled his jeans down his thighs, slowly and sensuously.

Elizabeth looked up at his fully erect penis and only flushed slightly. He was so comfortable being naked. He was seemed confident, in control…

"C’mere," he practically purred, holding one hand out to her.

She crawled up his body, moving to curl up in the crook of his arm, but he redirected her so that she was straddling his stomach instead, sitting fully atop him. She gave him a questioning look.

"Just figured you might wanna drive tonight, pet," he answered. "Seein’ as you’ve been through the most stress this past week…"

She gulped slightly. OK, so she’d thought about it. A lot. But it had been pretty clear from the beginning that Spike had a lot more experience than she did. After all, she’d only had two quick (and dull) one-night stands prior to him. Whereas Spike… Well, he must’ve picked up all those skills from somewhere. And it wasn’t just from Dru.

"I-I’ve never…" she confessed softly.

"Shh," he cradled her head on his breast, stroking her body in a way that reassured as well as stimulated. "’ll take the lead if you want…"

She felt that overwhelming burning sensation rise in her womb once more. She ventured to look up at him with a cautious smile. "No chance in hell," she informed him. "This is my night."

He chuckled at that, brushing aside the strands of hair that stuck to her sweat-slicked forehead. "S’pose that’s a matter ‘f opinion," he teased.

She rolled her eyes and batted him playfully in the shoulder. "God, you are such an asshole!" she teased, humor shinning in her eyes.

"Din’t think you’d be up for that for a quite a while yet," he taunted, a mischievous smile on his face.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened when she realized what he was referring to.

"Just kiddin’," he quickly reassured her, noting the slight panic - and was that…curiosity? - in her eyes.

"Humph," she grumbled before flicking her tongue out against his lips lightly, demanding entrance.

It was immediately granted, and she scootched up higher on his body in order to put her full power behind the kiss. Her tongue found his to be more passive than usual and so carefully began outlining his mouth, making sure she knew every nook and crevice intimately.

He moaned and clutched at her body, but she brushed his hands aside, pinning his wrists firmly to the mattress on either side of his head. His hips bucked in response, obviously enjoying being her willing captive.

She found herself enjoying it surprisingly well, too. Despite her exceptional fighting skill, Spike’s superior strength always became apparent in the bedroom. Hell, she wasn’t surprised; the guy was built. But it was nice to feel powerful, in charge…

"Let me know if I’m riding you too hard," she teased before slipping down onto his erection and squeezing her internal muscles as tightly as she could around him.

His eyes crossed in response, and his head lolled back against the pillows. "Christ, Summers!" he gasped out raggedly. At that moment, the only thing he was aware of was her searing warmth surrounding him, holding him, caressing him… "So hot!" he babbled. "So bloody perfect!"

Elizabeth’s mouth had flown open as well. It was always startling just how well he fit inside her, as if her contours had been molded exactly to his size. He was warm and soft and hard and gentle and violent all at once, and she couldn’t help but crave more of him. Cautiously, she began to rock her hips.

"Tha’s it, baby," he hissed through clenched teeth. "You got me, you got me…"

"I’ve got you," she agreed, bracing her hands in the center of his chest and beginning to ride him slowly.

And, god, was it wonderful! She swirled her hips so that he struck the most sensitive spots within her, lingering on the areas that sent little sparks of delight shooting up her spine.

He moaned and thrashed beneath her, his hips bucking up to increase the strength of their union. His pale, hard body formed a shimmering sheen of sweat that looked pale silver in the dim light.

"God, you’re beautiful," she gasped, picking up her pace. The intensity of the friction of the meeting of their two bodies was so great that she generally couldn’t form any other coherent thoughts. "Gorgeous. Want you. Even now. Always want more…"

He let out a contented little murmur, smiling at her newfound verbosity. Usually, he was the one to whisper the sweet nothings during sex, but it wasn’t a job he minded handing over to her at all. "Tell me more," he pleaded.

She leaned forward slightly so that she hovered right over him, her long, golden locks curtaining his face. They both let out a hiss of pleasure at the new angle before she increased her pace once more.

"You make me feel so good," she whispered just loudly enough that he could hear her over the slapping of their bodies. "It’s like there was some part of me missing…until I met you." She placed a tender kiss on his lips.

His hands moved from where she’d left them on either side of his head for the first time since their coupling began. Gently, they caressed her sides, stroked her back, increasing their pace until it matched that of their hips. "Oh, Elizabeth…" he practically whimpered when she finally broke their kiss.

"Spike…" Her fingers reached up to stroke the scar that trisected his eyebrow, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, feeling her pleasure ready to explode within her.

The sound of his name was all Spike needed, and he let out a roar as his pleasure flooded up into her womb, her name on his lips.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the sensation, and she kept her hips moving, clenching him tightly within her body and holding him deep inside as he came.

She watched his face contort with pleasure, his eyes unfocused, his cheeks sucked in, breath hissing between clenched teeth. It was quite possibly the most gorgeous expression she’d ever seen on his expressive face, and in that moment all she wanted in life was to make him look like that as often as possible.

"’Lizabeth…" he murmured once last time before his eyelids fluttered closed.

"Shh," she soothed softly, placing gentle kisses all over his face. She slid her arms around him and held him close as she felt him soften within her before slipping out once more. Her own body lamented slightly that it wouldn’t achieve its own pleasure anytime soon, but right now all she wanted to do was enjoy the newfound closeness between them.

She couldn’t quite put words to it, but it felt like a barrier had just been crossed and a new level of intimacy established between them. And, right now, it made her just want to melt against his chest. Well, that and the fatigue from her recent exertions. She certainly had newfound respect for Spike’s stamina now…

"Luv," Spike practically purred against her throat, stirring for the first time.

"Hey, there," she smiled down at him, placing a gentle peck on his lips.

A goofy, delighted grin split his own face. "Hey, yourself," he countered softly.

"So, whattaya think?" she asked with a coy smile, already knowing what his answer would be. "Did I do all right?"

" ‘All right’?!" Spike repeated in disbelief. "Pet, that was your bleedin’ calling!"

She mock-pouted. "That’s not much of a calling," she protested.

" ‘Not much’?" he protested, gesturing to the nether regions of his anatomy.

She giggled. "Compared to the entire world out there, no," she informed him, "not much."

He mock-sulked. "I believe ‘ve been insulted," he countered.

"Aw," she patted his hair lightly, mussing the slicked-back locks into wild curls, "does your ego need stroking?"

He gave her a lascivious grin. "No, but somethin’ else does," he teased.

"Hey, Mister Selfish," she countered, poking him in the chest for emphasis, "at least you already got off tonight."

An immediate frown marred his brow. "You din’t…?" he began.

She felt embarrassed for bringing it up now. "It’s O-" she started to speak and then squealed when she was abruptly flipped over onto her back.

"My woman’s never gonna be left needin’ in my bed," he informed her matter-of-factly before rolling his body on top of hers and sliding back down so that his head was between her legs.

"Spike?" she asked, confused. She tried to close her thighs, but he caught them in his powerful hands and gently pried them apart once more.

"Shh, luv," he soothed her, leaning in so that his nose just brushed her wiry curls. He breathed in the heady scent of her arousal and felt himself growing hard once more. "Just relax…"

She tried to do so, but thoughts of what he was about to do made it very difficult for her. And then the tip of his tongue brushed her throbbing clit for the first time, and she was too awash in ecstasy to care anymore.

He chuckled deep in his throat at the little mewling noises that were escaping her lips, allowing the vibrations to run right up her sensitized nerves.

"P-Pig!" she managed to gasp out when she realized that he was laughing at her. She spread her legs wider for him, however.

That merely caused him to chuckle some more and begin nibbling lightly at her. She didn’t mind, though. The chuckling actually felt really good. Not to mention the way his teeth twisted…Right. There!

"Spike!" she cried out, collapsing back onto the mattress in a puddle of Jell-O.

The aftershocks of her orgasm caused the muscles of her thighs to twitch against his face, but that didn’t stop him from continuing his exquisite torture.

"Again?" she asked in disbelief, looking down at the peroxide head between her thighs.

He turned his head to rest against her stomach for a minute, looking up at her with mischievous eyes. "Figured I owed ya twice for makin’ you wait so long," he agreed.

She gulped. "Less talk; more tongue."

An amused little smile quirked at the edges of lips before he returned to the task at hand.

Elizabeth let out a contented little sigh as his tongue probed her inner folds before finally plunging deep inside her. She’d always heard rumors about how good this felt, but she could never imagined… No one had ever… God, he was…

"Incredible…" she whispered raggedly. "God, you’re incredible…"

Her body shook around him once more in climax, and he took the opportunity to crawl up over her like a jungle cat stalking its prey, all lean, taut muscles.

She watched him through lazy eyelids as he covered her body with his own, his narrow thighs slipping between hers until the tip of his arousal rubbed up against the entrance to her womb.

"Incredible, am I?" he whispered against her ear, nibbling it lightly.

She gasped at the sensation and returned the favor, her tongue seeking out the silver ring in his ear and playing with it.

"Have I mentioned lately how much I love that?" he inquired.

"Show me instead," she challenged.

A practiced swirl of their hips, and they were joined once more.

"Oh, luv!" Spike cried out when he was sheathed within her once more. Every time they were together, he felt like he was finally coming home, that this was where he belonged above all else.

"Incredible…" she repeated her sentiments from earlier, her lips trailing across his throat as she wrapped her arms around him. The smooth muscles of his chest pressed her breasts flat, their nipples rubbing erotically together with every joint thrust of their hips.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured against her cheek. "So lovely…"

"So sexy," she replied.

He giggled slightly at that, that strange feeling of giddy euphoria that sometimes came over him when they were together overtaking him. It made him feel like his heart was trying to break free of his chest to extol the sheer amazing-ness of the woman that was Elizabeth Summers to the world. It made him want to hold her against him and never let her go, keep her safe, worshipped…loved…

She couldn’t help but smile as well. Spike had that bright grin on his face that she loved so much. She reached up to stroke his cheek affectionately, looking deep into his eyes as they finally reached the peak together, screaming out each other’s names as they fell into the infinity below…

It was several minutes before they stirred again and noticed the banging sounds on the wall.

"Oh, yes, yes, Xander!" Anya was crying out in a high-pitched whine. "Your penis is so much larger than Spike’s, and you’re making me come even harder than Elizabeth just did."

Spike and Elizabeth exchanged an embarrassed look.

"Uh…think they heard us?" Spike winced slightly.

"There’s no way Xander’s penis is larger than yours!" she retorted defensively, a wicked smile curling at the edges of her lips.

"Oh, yes, Spike!" she started yelling as well, right into the wall. "You’re so much more manly than Xander because he can only make little girls like Anya come, not real women like me!"

"Hey!" Two outraged cries sounded out in unison on the other side of the wall.

Spike laughed and spooned up against Elizabeth’s back. "Enjoy the sentiment, luv," he teased lightly before raising his own voice in what was turning into quite the battle.

"Yes, Elizabeth! You’re so much sexier’n Anyanka ‘cause you don’t talk about money during sex!" he yelled.

"Oh, Xander!" Anya’s voice called back. "You don’t wear black nail-polish that makes you look gay!"

"Oh, Spike!" Elizabeth called back. "You actually gave me a real orgasm, instead of pretend orgasms being shouted through the wall!"

The sound of muttering voices could just barely be heard through the wall. Spike pressed his ear up against it and smirked.

"What are they saying?" Elizabeth demanded, trying to shift so that she could listen as well, but finding Spike’s tangled naked limbs in the way of her moving. She debated whether to pout this fact or beam about it, and finally settled on the later.

"Anyanka’s pointin’ out that you’ve got ‘em there," Spike answered with a little smirk. "I think she’s tryin’ to clue Harris in on the fact that he should give her some orgasms, too. That’ll prob’ly preoccupy ‘em enough that they’ll leave us alone."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "God, are all guys this clueless?" she wondered.

Spike gave her a mock-hurt look. "What? You think ‘m like that?" he demanded, wide-eyed.

"You seemed to have a lot of difficulty understanding the sentence ‘I have a boyfriend’," she retorted.

"Humph." He got this adorable little pouty look on his face, complete with jutted out lower lip.

Elizabeth gulped. She didn’t know if she could handle any more tonight - she was already feeling a bit sore between the legs…undoubtedly due to the lack of practice during finals. However, if that lip kept being so damn bitable, she really couldn’t be held accountable for her actions…

A sly grin broke across his face at that moment, however, silencing her musing. "You din’t really have a boyfriend," he countered. "Wanted me all along, after all."

She gave him an evil little smile. "Full of yourself much?" she countered.

"You so did," he retorted. "All that ogling my sexy bod every chance you got…"

"Mmm…sexy bod…" She really couldn’t argue with that. Her fingers outlined a flat, dusty-rose nipple.

He gave her his characteristic smirk. "’Lizabeth wanted me all along," he sing-songed.

She shrugged and snuggled in closer to him. "Are you questioning my taste?" she inquired.

"As I recall, you tasted quite exquisite," he whispered softly.

She blushed at the memory of what they’d done. And then felt really stupid for it. ‘Cause, hey? Boyfriend? Not supposed to get embarrassed about the sex.

"That was the first time anyone…?" he trailed off obligingly at the darkening of his cheeks.

"Yeah," she whispered softly, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

"You liked it?" he inquired.

A little smile curled the edges of her lips. "Yeah."

He caught her chin in his palm, and she lifted her eyes up to his in response.

"You don’t hafta be embarrassed," he assured her. "From what ‘ve heard, most guys aren’t so…obligin’."

She smiled. "Then it looks like my taste is better than I thought," she teased lightly, feeling the weight on her chest lift a little.

"Be hard-pressed to find somethin’ I won’t do with you, pet," he agreed. "Got yourself a willin’ slave."

"Always a good thing to have in bed," she agreed with a little sigh. She ventured to look up into those impossibly blue eyes of his and bit her lower lip. "Spike…" she began.

"Anythin’, luv," he assured her.

"You’re OK with me being…?" she trailed off, her cheeks flushing.

"Embarrassed?" he inquired. "’Cause that’s actually kinda cute what with the latent dominatrix moves you were pullin’ on me earlier…"

She whapped him playfully in the head. "I mean, I know I’m not…" she gulped, "experienced…"

His brow instantly furrowed. "Don’t be silly, Elizabeth," he said emphatically, his voice losing its usual coarse drawl. "It has never been like this for me before…even with Dru."

She nervously looked down. "It’s just that I’m-"

"The best ‘ve ever had," he insisted, leaning in so that his forehead rested against hers. "You’re amazin’, luv. The way you make me burn for you…"

A sly smile twitched at the corners of her lips. "I guess you’re not half-bad, either," she teased lightly.

" ‘Half-bad’?" he repeated incredulously. "You’ll never find anyone better."

"Ego much?" she said sarcastically, snuggling against him as she did so.

"Yes, but that’s not why," he agreed with a cheeky grin. His expression softened then, however. "Tell me you haven’t noticed how well we fit together," he began in a rough whisper, "that you don’t feel more’n you ever have in your life when we’re like this…" He stroked her hair gently.

"I’ve noticed," she agreed.

"Don’t know what it means for sure," he had that shy, vulnerable smile on his face now that made her want to hold him and protect him forever, "but ‘d like to think it means we’re meant to be."

"I thought you didn’t believe in fate," she countered.

"No," he agreed, "but I believe in us." A gentle kiss graced her lips. "You make me feel alive, luv. Like I can do anythin’."

"Even face my dad?" she teased. "’Cause you can handle that confrontation for me."

He smiled. "Yeah," he agreed, "but ‘m thinkin’ we should get through the easy parent meetin’ first."

She grimaced. "You’re sure your dad’s gonna like me?"

"Positive," Spike insisted. "After all, I l-"

"Oh god!" The exclamation suddenly sounded through the wall.

Elizabeth frowned and stared at the wall pointedly. "Are they faking it again?" she demanded.

"Oh god, oh god!" was her only response.

An amused smile quirked across Spike’s lips. "Think they’re actually goin’ at it, luv," he said with obvious delight.

"Oh, yes! Xander!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "It’s about time," she decided. "Although…do they have to be so loud?"

Spike chuckled. "Sounds like the pot’s callin’ the kettle black," he teased.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. "There’s no way we’re that loud," she insisted. "The entire dorm must be able to hear them!"

"An’ this surprises you?" he demanded. "The walls ‘re thin, ducks."

"Oh god!" Elizabeth exclaimed in perfect time with Anya, although Elizabeth was doing so out of embarrassment. "That’s it. We can never have sex again."

"Oi, now!" Spike protested. Vehemently.

Elizabeth patted his hand reassuringly. "Celibacy really is the best option for couples who don’t want to die of embarrassment," she informed him.

"Then ‘m ready to die," he countered.

Elizabeth gave him a little smile. "Yeah, me too," she admitted shyly. "Still," her expression hardened, "there is no way we’re letting your parents hear us. ‘Cause I would die right on the spot then…"

"Thick walls, rooms far apart," Spike assured her spooning up against her back as they talked. "Shouldn’t be a problem."

Elizabeth absentmindedly caught one of his hands and began scraping at the chipped black polish. It was all part of her not-so-subtle scheme to get him to stop wearing it…although, in all fairness, she rather enjoyed his stubborn refusal to cave in to her demands.

"Your parents do know that we’re…?" And there was that embarrassment once more.

Spike chuckled. "Think Mum figured it out when you answered the phone in the mornin’," he pointed out.

She groaned. She’d had to sit through art that entire day, huddled off with her easel in a corner, too embarrassed to face Joyce’s knowing smile. "God, if my dad knew, he would so kill you." She still couldn’t believe how lenient Spike’s parents were.

"’m startin’ to think I actually want to meet your dad," Spike commented. "See why ‘e’s so scary an’ all…"

"He’s scary because he’s my negligent, absentee dad," she said matter-of-factly. "The one who freaks out whenever I deviate in the slightest from his master-plan."

Spike snorted derisively. "Bugger his master-plan," he insisted. "Just do what you want, kitten. He can’t accept it, then ‘s his own bloody fault."

She sighed. "Sometimes I really envy you," she informed him.

"How so?" he asked curiously.

"Your independence mostly," she decided, her eyes drifting shut at the feel of his soft kisses against the back of her neck. "I don’t want to live by my father’s rules…"

"But ‘e’s still family," Spike agreed. "Hard to abandon that."

"Especially when I keep hoping-" She stopped abruptly, and Spike felt her body tense.

"What?" he pressed.

"That, maybe one day, we’ll kinda be a real family?" she ventured nervously. "That he’ll suddenly become a real dad. Silly, I know."

He turned her to face him. "Not silly," he insisted, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "If I hadn’t had my parents… Prob’ly wouldn’t be the maladjusted freak I am today," he joked lightly.

Her lips twitched in response.

"Knew I could get a grin," he chuckled before his voice softened once more. "We all wanna be loved. Not be alone in this world."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and drowned herself in the feel of him. "Even you?" she whispered.

"Especially me," he assured her. "But, if worse comes to worst," he began hesitantly, "you’re not alone, luv. You always got me…"

"Yeah," she agreed with a soft smile. "Thank you, Spike," she whispered against his lips.

"For what?" he asked curiously.

"Being your wonderful, sweet, snarky self."

A delighted smile lit up his face, and he closed the gap between them, giving her an almost chaste kiss. "Better get some sleep," he commented, casting a nasty glare back at the wall and the occasional moans that were still emanating from it, "if you can that is. After all, tomorrow you get to meet the dad."

"Can’t hardly wait," she agreed, closing her eyes as she found a comfortable position within the circle of his arms. "Maybe he’ll finally show me all the embarrassing baby pictures…"

Spike chuckled softly as the two of them drifted off into sleep…


<>

"Elizabeth!" Joyce exclaimed in delight, practically snatching her bags from her. "You have no idea how delighted we were that you could make it."

"Some of you more than others," Elizabeth teased, whispering in Spike’s ear before she followed Joyce into the living room. "I’m just so grateful you agreed to have me," she replied. "Thanks so much."

"Think nothing of it," Joyce sat, heading up the stairs with Elizabeth’s bags. "William, I didn’t know whether Elizabeth would be staying in your room, or..." She left the question open.

"Yeah, my room, Mum," he agreed.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but blush at that. Sometimes she really envied Spike his open relationship with his parents.

"So, Elizabeth," Joyce rounded a surprising turn in the hallway and walked up a mini-flight of stairs, "how were finals?"

Elizabeth groaned, and Joyce laughed.

"That bad, huh?" Joyce pushed aside the door at the top of the stairs and ushered Elizabeth into Spike’s room for the first time.

"They’re over, and that’s all I care about right now," Elizabeth agreed before taking in the sight of the spacious bedroom. "Wow..." she breathed.

The woodwork of the room was done in a deep, rich oak that culminated in a slanted peak that ran across the high ceiling of the room. A latticework of beams supported this feature, interspersed by a skylight on either side. The room itself had a homey, comfortable glow, despite the various punk and rock posters that adorned the walls.

It was the centerpiece of the room that really caught Elizabeth’s eye, however. She practically licked her lips at the idea of trying out the king-sized bed. After the cramped twins at the dorm, this would be a real treat.

She gratefully took one of her bags from Joyce and sat down on the edge of the comfy bed as she moved to begin unpacking. "I like your room," she told Spike with a shy smile.

He returned her smile with a smirk.

"It’s lovely, isn’t it?" Joyce beamed. "We converted the old carriage house above the garage after we moved in. The project took several months."

Elizabeth smiled as Spike sat down beside her. "It really turned out well," she agreed.

Joyce was obviously proud of her accomplishment but couldn’t help but notice the increasing hormones in the room. "I’ll just leave you to unpack, then," she announced, turning back to the door. "Will, I’m going to pick your father up at the bus station at five. You and Elizabeth are welcome to come if you want. Or not," she added with a sly smile. "Whatever works best for you. Just let me know."

"’ll do that," he agreed, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth. "Thanks, Mum."

"Let me know if you need anything," were Joyce’s parting words before she shut the door firmly behind her. Ah, to be young again... she sighed wistfully before turning to the important task of dressing herself to meet with the husband she’d been parted from for over a month...

"Your mom’s really cool," Elizabeth commented, opening her suitcase. "Where should I put my stuff?" she inquired.

"Here," Spike rifled through his dresser, "’ll clean out a couple ‘f drawers for you..."

"Thanks," Elizabeth agreed, "but, like I was saying, if we were at my house, my dad would have us quarantined on opposite ends of the house from each other. With armed guards."

Spike snorted at that as a pile of black t-shirts was transported from one drawer to another. "What would be the point? ‘S not like he could stop us from shaggin’ like crazed rabbits the instant we got back to school, anyway."

"Mmm..." Elizabeth agreed, laying back on the deep blue coverlet, "crazed rabbits..."

Spike turned to look at her at that. "You feel like unpackin’ right now?" he inquired, watching the woman he loved lying on his bed with hunger.

"Not really," she sighed.

In an instant he was at her side, placing gentle kisses all down her throat. "Mmm," he practically purred against her, the vibrations tickling her sensitive skin.

She giggled and swatted at him lightly. "Cut that out," she protested, trying to wiggle away from the body that was persistently trying to cover hers.

He pouted at her refusal. "Why not?" He gave her the most pitiful look she’d ever seen. "Don’t you wanna break in this nice, big bed?"

That pouting lower lip of his was just too tempting to ignore, and she sat half up so that she could nimble on it lightly. "Very much," she murmured against his lips, "but not right now."

"Why not?" he sulked like a petulant child.

She couldn’t help giggling whenever he did that. Seeing sexy, badass Spike acting all cute and cuddly? Absolutely priceless. She wrapped her arms around his neck and settled into his lap, giving him a conciliatory kiss.

"Your mom knows what we’re doing in here," she informed him, "and it’s weird."

He rolled his eyes. "’S not like she can hear us. And Mum’ll undoubtedly know what we’re doin’ in here every night, too," he argued. "’re we gonna make this entire holiday an exercise in frustratin’ abstinence?"

"Mmm, you’ve got a point there," she conceded...and then squealed as Spike toppled them both back onto the bed, pulling her body down on top of his.

"We could just settle for a old-fashioned snog, if you like," he offered. "Be ready to go and pick dad up then..."

"Mmm, old-fashioned snog..." she repeated before scrunching her nose up. "Y’know, that really doesn’t sound nice. I mean, ‘snog’? It sounds like snot should be involved in some way..."

"No snot," Spike assured her, pulling her lips down to his. "Now, c’mere..."

She let out a contented little sigh and ran her fingers through his peroxide locks, transforming his well-groomed hair into a mass of wild curls. Her lips parted against his, and she pressed her body down into his own, savoring the feel of strong, lean muscles beneath her.

His tongue lapped at hers hungrily as his arms slid around her waist. He could already feel the scent of her vanilla shampoo washing over him, surrounding him... He let out a groan and how painfully far away she still was and rolled them over, pressing his hardness down into her, relishing the excited little gasp that escaped her lips.

"Oh god, Spike..." she whimpered, her head lolling about on the mattress as he reverently kissed every inch of her face and throat. Her wandering hands explored his familiar body, skating along the curve of his spine, running over the contours of the sleek muscles of his back, before moving lower to grasp that tight, firm ass of his in both hands and gently squeeze...

His jean-clad hips ground down between her spread thighs in response, and her clothing suddenly became unbearable to him. He wanted to feel her flesh against his, warm and yielding, wanted to taste the salt of her sweat, inhale the perfume that was so distinctively her...

His hands slid up under the thick turtleneck she was wearing, exposing her toned body for his mouth’s pleasure. She seemed to have the same idea and yanked at his blood-red button up, opening it wide before sliding it sensuously down his shoulders. He lifted her up for a moment to get the turtleneck up and off of her head.

They fell back onto the mattress then, skin-on-skin, enjoying the feel of the other. His gorgeous, sculptured chest was too much for Elizabeth to ignore, and she shoved him off of her briefly before rolling with him and landing on top.

"Mmm," she commented, "big bed has it advantages."

"It certainly does, luv," he agreed, enjoying the sight of her straddling him, her red-lace covered breasts heaving as she panted for air.

"Verrry nice..." she gazed down at the pale body beneath her before slowly leaning in to lick up the sweat on one pectoral.

He squirmed and thrashed beneath her, and she smiled against him at that. She loved the way his body responded to her touch, loved the way he seemed to melt into her, loved the feeling of power and desirability it gave her.

Eager to feel him squirm some more, her mouth lowered to his abdomen, outlining that delightful six-pack with the pointed tip of her tongue.

"Christ, luv," he sighed. "You make me feel so good..."

"It’s a talent," she declared, rising up against him once more and pillowing her head on his chest. For the first time, she felt the air on her back and shivered slightly. "Uh-oh," she complained, "I’m cold, but I don’t wanna move..."

She gave him a pathetic, little sniffle.

He scoffed at her innocent act and reached over with his free hands to grab the corner of the comforter. She whimpered slightly in complaint when his stretch made him shift beneath her, but mumbled her approval when the blanket covered her.

"I could stay like this forever," she decided, the fingers of one hand playing with one of his dusty-rose nipples.

"Me, too, kitten," he agreed, wrapping his arms around her back.

"You make such a warm, comfy pillow," she informed him, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

He chuckled at that, the vibrations relaxing her. "I aim to please, pet," he commented, stroking her hair absentmindedly.

"Mmm..." she agreed with a contented sigh, already drifting off into sleep...

* * *

"William?"

Joyce’s voice broke through the haze of his sleep, and let out a lion-sized yawn.

"William?" she repeated. "I’m going to go pick up your father. Are you coming?"

His first thought was, And leave this nice warm bed with Elizabeth in my arms? Are you out of your mind? His second was that he was really eager to see his dad again, too. He decided to leave the choice up to the tiny blond on top of him, who was now stirring from her peaceful slumber.

"We going?" she mumbled groggily.

"Only if you want to, pet," he whispered into her hair.

"William?" Joyce’s voice called.

"Yeah, let’s go," Elizabeth said, reluctantly prying her body from his. "I want to meet this supposed ‘dad’ of yours," she teased lightly.

He chuckled at that. "We’re coming, Mum!" he shouted out to Joyce. "Just give us a minute!"

"I’ll be waiting in the living room," she agreed before her feet could be heard going back down the stairs.

"Wow," Elizabeth said, running a hand through her tangled bed hair, "I must’ve been really tired..."

"Finals ‘s more drainin’ than it seems at the time," Spike agreed, getting out of bed and searching for his discarded shirt.

Elizabeth had no trouble finding hers and then rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s complete incompetence, retrieving his shirt from where it was draped across the bedpost and handing it to him.

"I’m thinking I should go for something other than the ‘I just ravished your son’ look for our first meeting," she commented conversationally, finding the brush in her purse and using the mirror in the small bathroom off to one side of his room to straighten her hair.

"Don’t know, luv," he countered. "Knowin’ dad, he’ll be absolutely thrilled that ‘m gettin’ ravished on a regular basis."

Elizabeth scrunched up her nose. "Your parents are so weird," she announced.

"I thought they were ‘cool’?" he pointed out.

"For parents to be cool, they have to be very weird," she argued reasonably enough before emerging from the bathroom. "How do I look?" she demanded with a dancer’s pirouette.

Spike licked his lips. "Quite ravishable," he replied in a husky growl.

She batted him on the chest and proceeded to fasten the buttons he’d managed to miss in his haphazard manner. "You can ravish me tonight," she promised.

"’ll hold you to that," he warned.

"No, I’ll hold you to that," she countered with a wink. She ran her hands over his hair, slicking back the peroxide locks before appraising him. "Huh," she teased, "you look almost presentable."

"’ll make you look unpresentable..." he threatened.

She batted him playfully in the arm. "Later. Right now, we have to go pick up your dad."

* * *

Elizabeth would’ve recognized Rupert Giles even if he and Joyce hadn’t practically plowed over the rest of the passengers to greet each other with a fierce hug. Spike and his father shared many handsome features, in particular that rakish smile Giles graced Joyce with when he saw the deep purple dress she was wearing. Elizabeth had seen that same look directed at her in the younger Giles’ eyes all too often.

In fact, Spike seemed to be giving her that look right now...

She gave him a playful swat and turned to where Giles and Joyce were approaching.

"Hey, dad," Spike said with a little nod.

Giles didn’t let him get away with the cold greeting, of course, and pulled him into a quick hug.

"It’s been far too long, Will," Giles said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "And you must be Elizabeth," Giles held his hand out to her.

"Pleased to meet you, Mister Giles," she agreed with a smile.

"Please, just call me Giles," he insisted. "Everyone does."

"Except me," Joyce teased, "but only because I know how much you hate being called Rupert in public."

"Yes, quite," Giles cast his wife a mock-annoyed look.

Elizabeth chuckled slightly. "Giles," she agreed.

"You’re every bit as lovely as William said you were," Giles informed her with a twinkle in his eye.

Elizabeth blushed. Damn, what was it with her and Giles men? Spike slipped his arm around her waist, and she managed an embarrassed little smile.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"So, then," Joyce announced, "now that we’re all introduced, why don’t we head out for dinner? Rupert, dear, did you have any more luggage?"

"Just this," he gestured to the roller bag he had dragged along with him. He gave Joyce a crooked smile. "I figured I wouldn’t be needing many clothes..."

Spike groaned and buried his head in Elizabeth’s shoulder while she furiously blushed. "Dad!" he complained. "You’re old! That’s gross!"

"Ah, it’s lovely to see how much he’s matured," Giles joked wistfully.

Spike sent a scowl his way and took his father’s bag from him.

"So, Elizabeth," Giles began as they made their way back to the car, "I heard you’re from California."

"Sunnydale," she agreed with a nod, setting pace with him.

"So, how are you faring in the land of two-foot blizzards?" Giles inquired.

"The snow is nice," Elizabeth’s brow furrowed, "...at first," she admitted with a grimace.

Giles laughed at that, trudging through the slush at the edge of the street alongside her. "Yes, it is a bit...extreme," he agreed. "I always feel sorry for Joyce and William. They’re trapped here while I enjoy the delightfully mild English winters."

"You mean the nonstop rain?" Joyce countered. "Give me cold, clear skies any day."

"Americans," Giles rolled his eyes heavenward. "Right, Will?"

Spike merely shrugged, uncharacteristically silent as he watched Elizabeth and his father interact.

"Not for me," Elizabeth retorted. "I live in a land where clouds and snow are a myth."

"Californians," Spike imitated his father’s scoff perfectly.

Elizabeth gave him a playful whap in response before linking her arm through his. "So where are we headed for dinner?" she asked. "’Cause I’m starved."

She smiled up at Spike as he helped her into the back seat. She noticed Giles treat Joyce with the same gesture and finally solved the mystery of where Spike had picked up his seemingly-out-of-place gentlemanly habits.

The gentleman was gone the instant he slipped into the backseat beside her, however. Hidden from his parents’ eyes now, Spike let his hands slip up her inner thigh, stroking the sensitive flesh there through the fabric of her pants.

Elizabeth looked into those blue eyes of his, and they shared a conspiratorial little smile before her hand drifted over to his thigh as well, studiously avoiding the bulge in the jeans; there were some embarrassing accidents that Elizabeth didn’t feel like cleaning up with Spike’s parents less than five feet away. Elizabeth fluttered her eyelashes at him coyly and inched closer, letting their thighs brush as they cuddled up together.

Giles couldn’t help but smile to himself at the affection Elizabeth and his son so obviously shared for each other. "Did you two enjoy your classes this semester?" he inquired.

Spike shrugged. "Not bad," he agreed.

"I heard you were both in Barb’s class," Giles continued. "I take it she hasn’t lost her touch?"

"Professor Hall’s very cool," Elizabeth agreed, slipping her free arm around Spike’s waist. Damn, this whole forced distance thing was difficult. She was used to being able to just jump those sexy bones of his whenever she wanted when it was just the Westing House crowd around.

"Are you going to take her class next semester?" Giles asked curiously.

"I haven’t decided yet," Elizabeth admitted, biting her lower lip. "I mean, it’s not a requirement or anything..."

"C’mon, luv," Spike urged. "It’ll be fun..." His thumb nicked a certain spot right between her thighs that reminded her just how much fun she and Spike had in class together.

"Sounds good," she agreed, cheeks flushed.

"I was glad to see that you’re sticking through Visual Arts 102," Joyce commented, pulling up in front of the only French restaurant in town - the one that was way too expensive for anyone but the college professors to go to.

"That was the only class I automatically pre-registered for," Elizabeth agreed with a smile. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world." She accepted the hand Spike offered her out of the car and gave him a quirky, amused smile in response.

"What?" he demanded, fidgeting slightly.

"Cute kitty-cat," she accused in a whisper, then headed after Giles and Joyce before he could retort.

He watched her hips sashay back and forth for a minute, a dreamy smile on his face, before he finally joined the rest of his family in the restaurant.

"You’re an artist, then?" Giles asked approvingly as they were immediately led to a quiet table in the corner.

Elizabeth let Spike take her coat and sat down. "Well, this is the first art class I’ve taken," she admitted, "but I really like it."

"You should have seen Elizabeth’s final project," Joyce said excitedly. "She’s done this entire series of landscapes - like George Morrison but with a bit more of a personal feel to them that makes them seem realistic and surreal at the same time. They’re really quite exquisite."

"I’ll have to stop by the gallery some time over the holiday," Giles agreed with a smile. "Have you thought about taking further art classes?"

Elizabeth bit her lower lip. "I’m pretty sure my father wouldn’t be too happy if I did," she admitted guiltily. "He kinda wants me to be an econ major."

Giles waved one hand in the air dismissively. "If you’re meant to be an artist, then there’s no way your father can stop you," he insisted.

"You haven’t met my dad," Elizabeth countered with a grimace.

"’S not like he would even find out," Spike shrugged. "It’d just be another li’l conspiracy."

Giles raised a curious eyebrow at that.

"Technically," Elizabeth confessed, "I’m staying with Willow and Tara over break."

"Our William’s her secret boyfriend," Joyce agreed with a conspiratorial giggle.

"Running around behind the old man’s back," Giles raise his glass with a smile. "Good for you..."

* * *

"So," Spike demanded the instant Elizabeth and Joyce had disappeared on one of those mysterious two-person bathroom breaks women always seemed to engage in, "what do you think?"

"Well..." Giles began with a frown, unable to resist teasing his son.

Spike winced inwardly.

"I like her." Giles broke into a wide grin.

Spike blinked in confusion for a minute, trying to process that the worst of all scenarios hadn’t just occurred. "Huh?" he gaped eloquently.

"I find her clever, witty, engaging, and obviously quite genuinely fond of you," Giles clarified. "In short, I like her quite a lot."

A wide smile of relief lit up Spike’s face at that. "Thanks, dad." He let out the breath he had been holding.

"I cannot imagine why you’re surprised," Giles teased, turning back to his wine...

* * *

Willow and Tara exchanged a curious glance when a knock sounded on the door to Tara’s dorm suite.

"Elizabeth and Spike?" Willow guessed as Tara went to open the door.

Tara shrugged.

The sight on the other side was anything but what they were expecting, however. A teenage girl of no more than sixteen at the most seemed highly out of place in the college dorm - especially with the duffel bag she toted over one shoulder and the suitcase on the floor behind her.

Tara blinked in surprise.

Willow approached the door curiously, an inquiring frown on her face.

The girls apparently didn’t notice, and merely tossed her long, brown hair over one shoulder. "Hi, I’m Dawn Summers," she said with a bright smile, "and I’m looking for my sister, Buffy..."

And, with that tantalizing taste of things to come, I will cruelly leave off. ~_^ Be sure to review 'cause, y'know...just 'cause.

Chapter Twenty-Two

"…So, I look up," Giles finished with a chuckle, "to see William hanging upside down from the tree-branch, pants caught on a limb about ten feet further up, and this huge, orange cat in his arms hissing like crazy."

Elizabeth broke out into hysterical laughter and gave Spike ‘I will never ever be able to respect you again’ look.

Spike whimpered and buried his head further in his hands. "Dad…" he protested meekly, "’m never gonna get laid again thanks to you!"

"Oh, I don’t know," Elizabeth teased, ruffling his hair until it stuck up in unruly spikes. "I don’t suppose there’s any chance you still have those Captain Planet boxers…?"

He gave her a murderous scowl before flashing it in his father’s direction as well. "I hate you all," he announced, sulking in his seat.

Joyce gave him a sympathetic smile. "At least Rupert’s already covered the most embarrassing stories," she soothed him.

"And it’s about time I got them, too," Elizabeth decided. "I want to know all about all the geeky, nerdy, embarrassing, silly-Eek!"

The squeal was in response to Spike’s tackling her onto the back seat and beginning to tickle her mercilessly.

"Take it back," he demanded.

"Eee…no!" Elizabeth managed to get out between hysterics as she vainly batted at Spike’s hands. Apparently, those hands’ skills weren’t limited to just the bedroom. He had unerringly found all the spots where she was the most ticklish within seconds.

"Say that ‘m the sexiest, most handsome, badass bloke in the world," he ordered.

"Captain Planet…" she giggled out.

Giles looked over his shoulder at the bleached pair wrestling about on the back seat. "Are you kids wearing your seatbelts?" he felt obliged to ask.

"Uh…yeah," Spike lied horribly, pausing in his assault on Elizabeth for a second.

It was enough for her to catch hold of his wrists and halt the tickle torture…for the time being, anyway.

"If I decided to crash this car into that tree for the insurance money, you could be dead by now," Joyce teased, a glint of humor in her eyes.

"What between here an’ the garage?" Spike countered as Joyce pulled into the driveway.

Elizabeth just gave his parents an apologetic smile. Seatbelts had definitely been fastened at some point in time, but certain of their more playful activities had quickly removed them.

Giles shrugged. "Obligatory parental thing," he said apologetically, hopping out of the car as Joyce pulled up.

"Speaking of dangerous vehicular activities…" Joyce scowled at her husband as she finally slowed the car to a complete stop.

Giles flashed her a rakish grin. "Oh, it doesn’t count when I do it," he insisted. "After all, my parents aren’t here to chide me."

Joyce let out a long-suffering sigh and gave Elizabeth a conspiratorial smile. "Men," she lamented.

Elizabeth nodded and continued to fight to keep Spike’s tickling fingers away from her side. "Can’t live with ‘em, don’t have comfy bed-warmers without ‘em," she teased.

Spike growled at that, licking his lips in anticipation. "Want me to warm your bed, then, luv?" he whispered right into her ear. "’Cause I can warm so much more than that…"

Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed slightly, eager for him to demonstrate.

Wrapped around each other in anticipation of the night to come, they didn’t notice the visitors on the Giles’ doorstep until long after the elder pair had.

"Willow? Tara?" Joyce frowned as she recognized two of the three women huddled up on her front porch, all hunkering down into their parkas against the cold winter wind.

"Hey, Joyce." Willow gave her a little finger wave. "In retrospect, it’s pretty obvious we should have called first…"

Spike frowned when he realized what was going on. "Has somethin’ happened?" he asked, suddenly alarmed. "Is everyone all right?"

"Everything’s fine," Tara assured him quickly. "Well, I mean…I guess…" She cast a confused look at the third of their little trio.

And Elizabeth noticed her for the first time as well. For a moment she just stood there and gaped, looking not unlike several of the more unusual species of flounder while Giles, Joyce, and Spike just watched on, confused.

"Hi," Dawn said with a falsely innocent smile. "Long time, no see, huh?"

Elizabeth’s mind finally managed to process that, yes, the little monster was actually there, talking to her. "Dawnie?!" she finally exclaimed in a mixture of surprise and outrage. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Dawn flinched at her sister’s tone and shivered in the cold night air.

Joyce picked up on the shiver because she was feeling it as well. "Why don’t we have this conversation inside?" she suggested reasonably, finally unlocking the door that had stymied Willow and Tara on their mission to reunite the obviously dysfunctional Summers family.

Willow and Tara gave her half-apologetic, half-grateful looks as they ran in out of the cold. Dawn walked in confidently after them, followed by a very confused Giles.

Joyce turned to her only child and his girlfriend, who were whispering in distressed tones to each other. "Coming inside?" she inquired.

"Just a second," Elizabeth assured her, biting her lip at the demanding look Spike was giving her.

"I’ll leave the door unlocked," Joyce agreed, closing it behind her.

"What the bloody ‘ell is going on here?" Spike exclaimed the instant they were alone. "Who’s the girl?"

"That," Elizabeth sighed wearily, "is my sister."

Spike blinked once. Twice. "You have a sister?!" he finally said in complete and utter shock. "Why ‘aven’t I heard about this before? An’ why is she here?"

Elizabeth sighed. "We’ll talk later," she promised him. "And, as for why she’s here… That’s what I mean to find out right now."

Spike nodded at that, holding the door open for her as they went inside…

* * *

Dawn bit her lip and fidgeted in her chair. She had known before that this wasn’t the best thought out idea she’d ever had, but she hadn’t expected Buffy to freak like this. She couldn’t quite decide whether her older sister had looked like she was thinking about becoming an axe-murderer or whether she’d just seen a ghost. Either way, this looked very bad.

"Your name was…Dawnie?" Joyce eyed the teenager curiously.

"Dawn," she corrected with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

Joyce took in the teen’s stubborn posture knowingly. Any mother who had actually managed to raise a child past eighteen without going stir crazy knew it only too well. God, she still had no idea how she had survived the horror that was an adolescent William…

"Nice to meet you, Dawn," Joyce persisted in being polite despite the girl’s sullen attitude. "My name is Joyce. My husband, Rupert." She gestured to where Giles was, inevitably, cleaning his glasses. It was a nervous habit he’d had since before she’d known him.

Dawn merely nodded.

"So," Joyce kept up her efforts to break the uncomfortable quiet of the kitchen, "does anyone want hot chocolate?"

"Yes, thank you," Tara said with a shy smile.

God bless that girl, Joyce sighed with relief.

"Oh, me too," Willow agreed.

Joyce set about pulling out the pan. "Dawn?" she inquired.

"Yeah, sure," Dawn shrugged.

Joyce knew that look only too well. It was the ultra-sullen ‘uh-oh, busted’ look. With a weary shake of her head, she turned on the oven.

"Dawn is Elizabeth’s sister," Willow provided helpfully. "Right?"

Dawn nodded nervously.

"Yes, very good," Giles turned several degrees more British in this rather bizarre situation. He’d always found it an effective coping mechanism. "And where is your sister exactly?" he wondered.

"She’s talking to Will," Joyce answered just as the door opened.

Dawn gulped as her sister strode in, ‘I really am going to murder you this time’ written all across her face. Dawn attempted an apologetic smile, watched Elizabeth move around to the counter and lean back against it, caught the movement of the last member of their little impromptu party and…

The world stopped.

Dawn’s eyes widened as she took in the black-clad figure for the first time. Spiky white hair, skin tight black jeans and tee, long leather jacket, dangerous-looking scar, deadly cheekbones, piercing blue eyes… Oh god, she was drowning…

"Dawnie!" Elizabeth repeated angrily, snapping Dawn out of her instant-crush-induced gaze.

"Huh?" Dawn blinked and looked at her.

"I asked," Elizabeth repeated patiently, "what on earth you’re doing here."

"Oh, that." Dawn tore her eyes away from Gorgeous Bad Boy to look at her sister. "Well, I didn’t want to go with mom to Mexico, so I figured…hey, we could hang out instead." She gave Elizabeth a calm smile, like dropping in at her front door like this was the most normal thing in the world.

"You…" Elizabeth sputtered and gesticulated at the complete absurdity of this situation. "Do mom and dad even know where you are?" she finally demanded.

Dawn winced. "Not so much," she admitted before sighing. "They think I’m on a flight to Mexico City right now, but I switched my ticket. I’m kinda running away."

"Oh dear," Joyce said, alarmed at the thought of a parent not being able to locate their child, "you have to call your parents…"

"But…" Dawn protested.

Elizabeth sighed. "Dawnie," she said sternly, "you need to call dad and mom."

Dawn’s lower lip jutted out as she pouted. "They’ll make me go down to Mexico," she said sullenly.

"Good," Elizabeth exclaimed in exasperation. "That’s where you’re supposed to be!"

"But I don’t wanna go!" Dawn did her best petulant child impression.

Elizabeth’s fists clenched in anger. God, this girl was easily the most stubborn, annoying…

"It’s late," Joyce announced, breaking up the argument. "Dawn, call your parents and tell them that you’re spending the night here. We’ll sort everything else out in the morning."

Several surprised looks turned in Joyce’s direction at that, followed by nods of agreement. This was just too much to absorb properly at the moment.

"If you won’t be needing us anymore then…?" Willow began hesitantly.

"You two go home," Joyce favored Willow and Tara with a smile.

"Thanks for bringing Dawnie over," Elizabeth agreed wearily.

"No prob," Willow nodded, getting up and heading for the door.

"Good night." Tara gave everyone a little wave as she followed her girlfriend.

"Yeah, good night," Willow agreed.

"Good night."

Everyone sat around uncomfortably in the kitchen for a minute after the couple left.

"Well, let’s get on it then," Giles decided. "Dawn, you can use the phone in the study."

"I’ll go with her," Elizabeth spoke up immediately, "make sure she actually calls…"

Dawn rolled her eyes at that.

Elizabeth gripped her arm as she walked past, practically dragging her little sister along behind her.

The Giles family just sat and blinked after them.

"Well, that was certainly…unexpected." Giles had apparently decided that his wire-frames needed yet another polishing and set to it. "It was unexpected, wasn’t it?" he looked up at his son sharply.

Spike let out a grunt of assent. "Never even heard of the sister ‘til now," he confessed.

Joyce sighed. "This may take a while to straighten out," she said thoughtfully. "Will you tell Elizabeth that we’re willing to let Dawn stay here until she can find a way to work things out?"

Spike gave her a grateful nod. "Thanks, Mum," he agreed. "And ‘m sorry ‘bout…"

"I’m sure it had nothing to do with you," Giles quickly assured him.

"No kiddin’…" Spike agreed.

* * *

"Let me go!" Dawn screeched, attempting to jerk her arm away from Elizabeth’s solid grip.

"So you can what?" Elizabeth hissed angrily. "Run away again?"

"Where to?" Dawn sulked, watching Elizabeth slam the study door behind her. "The fact that I came here should tell you absolutely desperate I was."

Elizabeth fixed her with a no-nonsense gaze. "Why did you run away?" she demanded.

Dawn shifted uncomfortably and looked anywhere but at Elizabeth.

"Dawnie…" she threatened.

"Don’t call me that!" she huffed. "My name is Dawn! I’m not a kid anymore!"

"Well, you’re sure acting like one," Elizabeth retorted. "Now, what happened?"

Dawn sighed. "Your dad," she gave Elizabeth a venomous look at that, "is divorcing my mom."

Elizabeth blinked in surprise - not surprise that it was happening, but surprise that she hadn’t known. Although, now that she thought about it, her father hadn’t been that great about giving advanced warning in the past… "When?" she asked, her voice calmer, more sympathetic now.

"They’ve been fighting for a while," Dawn shrugged. "Since before you left. Not that you were paying any attention…"

"Oh, Dawnie," Elizabeth sighed, "I’m sorry…" She could still remember the break-up between her dad and her own mom vividly.

"Yeah, well…" Dawn studied her boots intently.

Elizabeth ran a weary hand through her hair. "So, your mom’s in Mexico right now, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Dawn agreed, picking at her shiny nail-polish, "but I don’t wanna see her."

"Dawn, you can’t just hide out here!" Elizabeth insisted.

"Why not?" Dawn argued.

"For one," Elizabeth pointed out, "this isn’t my house. I can’t just invite anyone in. I mean, where were you planning on staying exactly?"

"With you, in Tara’s dorm," Dawn countered. "Only you seem to not be staying where you told dad you were…" A hint of a mischievous smile played across her features.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in response. "You are not about to blackmail me, young lady," she insisted sternly. "You are in so much more trouble than me. Because at least I’m an adult and get to make my own decisions about these things!"

Dawn snorted derisively. "Tell that to dad," she countered.

Elizabeth shot her a dirty look. "We are not talking about this," she stated. "This is about you, not me. And you’re going to call your mom right now and tell her where you are. She’s probably worried sick."

"She prob’ly doesn’t even care," Dawn grumbled.

"She’s your mom," Elizabeth insisted, picking up the phone and dialing. "She cares."

"Did yours?" Dawn retorted spitefully.

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed in anger for a second before a voice picked up on the other end. "Hi, this is Elizabeth," she said in a tight voice into the receiver.

A pause and some squawking from the phone.

"Yes, I know." Elizabeth cast an annoyed glance Dawn’s way. "In fact, I’ve got her right here with me."

Excited exclamations from the other side.

"Hang on," Elizabeth agreed before handing the receiver to Dawn. "You are in so much trouble," she hissed before stepping out into the hallway to leave her sister to her phone call.

"Hey."

Elizabeth looked up from where she’d automatically leaned against the wall to see Spike’s concerned face. She managed to flash him a weak smile. "Hey yourself," she agreed.

He moved over to her, mirroring her position. "How’s the li’l one?" he asked, inclining his head towards the closed study door.

"Getting chewed out on the phone." Elizabeth rested her head on his shoulder, taking comfort from his warmth.

He slipped an arm around her in response, holding her close. "You figured out what’s happenin’ yet?" he inquired.

She nodded wearily. "Where’re your parents?" she asked.

"Gone to bed," Spike answered. "Mum says your sis can stay here as long as she needs to."

Elizabeth managed a wry smile at that. "Your mom is the nicest person alive," she commented, her nose still buried in the crook of his neck. "Sometimes I envy you."

"Seduce me right an’ proper and she could be your mum, too," Spike teased lightly.

Elizabeth managed a chuckle at that as well. " ‘Right and proper’?" she repeated. "That doesn’t sound like anywhere near as fun as what I’ve been doing." She rose on her tiptoes and brushed a gentle kiss across his forehead. "Thanks for being so reasonable about all of this. I know it’s kind of thrown a monkey wrench in our plans for the moment." She gave him another kiss. "Thanks…"

He seemed deeply touched by the gesture, although Elizabeth couldn’t even begin to fathom why. The humor returned to his eyes before he spoke, though. "Guess this kinda botches up the whole perfect ‘meet the dad’ evenin’, huh?" he teased lightly.

Elizabeth giggled slightly. "Yeah, that whole ‘oops, here’s my whole dysfunctional family come to visit, too’ bit kinda soured things…"

He chuckled that deep, rumbling chuckle that always sent tingles right down to the tips of her toes. "How long’s the Bit stayin’?" he inquired.

Elizabeth sighed. "Don’t know. Haven’t worked it out yet." She worried her lip between her teeth a couple of times. "I get why she did it, though. I feel…sorry for her…" She looked up at him. "I don’t know what to do."

"It’ll all work itself out," he assured her. "Any word on the reasonin’ behind the whole Huck Finn act?"

"Divorce," Elizabeth winced.

Spike didn’t say anything to that. Elizabeth had mentioned her own parents’ divorce only a couple of times, and he knew it was a topic that still bothered her, long after her mother’s death. He figured now really wasn’t the time to bring those issues up, what with everything else that was happening.

"So, how come I never heard ‘f this sister?" he shifted to what he hoped would be a more neutral subject.

Elizabeth slipped from his loose embrace then, sliding down the wall until she sat on the floor and gesturing for him to do so as well. Once he was seated beside her, their thighs blushing lightly in a comforting manner, she began.

"She’s actually my half sister," she clarified. "Back when my mom and dad were still together…" She blinked back a tear at her mother’s memory. "Well, my dad’s always had this thing for his secretaries and…"

"Dawn’s mum was one of ‘em?" Spike guessed, rolling an unlit cigarette between his fingertips.

Elizabeth nodded. "I didn’t find out about any of this until years later, of course," she added. "In fact, I didn’t even know Dawn existed until dad and my step-mom got back together two years ago. I didn’t even know they were dating until after the wedding, and my dad pretty much left it up to Dawn’s mom to explain why I suddenly had a fourteen-year-old half-sister completely out of the blue."

Spike frowned. "That must’ve been…rough." He winced at the lameness of that statement but couldn’t come up with anything better.

Elizabeth gave him a small grateful smile for the effort. "That about covers it," she agreed. "I got to find out that my dad was cheating on my mom and, at the same time, Dawn got to find out that she’d been a dirty little secret to be kept from the ‘legitimate’ daughter. Needless to say, it wasn’t pretty."

"But she came to you for ‘elp," Spike commented. "Can’t be so bad between the two of you, then."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Trust me when I say that I was an absolute last resort. The only thing Dawn and I have ever really agreed about is how pissed we are at dad."

"’ve known families held together with less," Spike only half-joked.

She reached over to intertwine her fingers with his at that. It was strange. She’d never had a happy home life before, despite her parents’ wealth and affluence. But, ever since she’d come to college… She was somewhat startled to realize that she thought of Westing House as her home now and also… Spike’s family was so comfortable, so inviting. She felt this deep desire within her to become a part of it, a part of him, of his life…

"I don’t know what I’d do without you," she whispered softly, her fingers curling into the soft hairs at the back of his neck as she drew him in for a sweet kiss.

"Oh, gross!" Dawn exclaimed as she peered out the door to the study, phone in hand.

Inside, she was seething. How did her peppy cheerleader sister get this gorgeous guy? Buffy was supposed to go after the dull, brainless jocks, leaving the cool, interesting guys for girls like Dawn. But, oh no, Buffy had to snatch up all the sexy rebels, too, like…Cute Bad Boy… Dawn absentmindedly released that it was somewhat ridiculous to be jealous of her sister over a guy whose name she hadn’t even picked up yet.

"She wants to talk to me?" Elizabeth inquired, extricating herself from Spike’s limbs and reaching for the phone.

Dawn handed it to her. "It’s all yours," she said a bit snidely, watching Cute Bad Boy get to his feet with interest. Damn, he even moved in a sexy way…

Elizabeth gave Spike a parting smile before ducking back into the study.

Spike’s gaze flickered to the younger Summers curiously. "You’re Dawn, huh?" he commented. He debated lighting up the cigarette he’d been persistently toying with but decided he didn’t want to risk his father’s wrath if he discovered that he’d been smoking outside his own room.

Dawn affected a casual pose. "Yeah," she agreed with a flip of her hair, trying for cool and aloof. "And you are…?"

"Spike."

Sexy, bad name, check. Dreamy accent, double check.

"Cool," Dawn nodded, leaning back against the wall. "So, you go to school with Buffy or what?"

Spike was thrown by the use of his girlfriend’s former nickname for a second but quickly figured it out. "Yeah," he agreed.

"And you live here?" Dawn was impressed with herself for being so cool in this situation. Despite his sexy bad boy looks, though, Spike wasn’t all that difficult to talk to.

"That was my mum and dad," he agreed, gesturing back to the kitchen. "So, you really ditched the parents?"

"Not the first time," she said proudly.

"Good for you," he agreed with a sly smirk. "Show that dad ‘f yours who’s boss." He figured a mutual dislike of Hank Summers was also something he and Dawn would share in common.

Dawn practically beamed in response. "He sucks big-time," she agreed, rolling her eyes and snapping her gum.

Pink bubble-gum, Spike noted. Sweet and innocent and childlike, much like the image Dawn was obviously desperately trying to outgrow. He could sympathize with her wanting to grow up fast, but he still wished it didn’t have to be because of these circumstances.

"That’s what ‘ve gathered," he agreed, pushing the cigarette behind his ear. "So, runnin’ away’s the best solution?"

Dawn shrugged. "It works."

"Barely."

She gave him a small smile. Hey, at least he wasn’t looking down at her with that ‘poor little kid’ look she got so often. "It’ll be cool," she insisted.

"Right," he agreed with a shrug. He fingered the cigarette behind his ear longingly.

"I don’t mind if you smoke," Dawn noticed the motion. "I’m used to it, actually."

He gave her a disapproving look. "You smoke?"

She wrinkled her nose slightly. "No, but most of my friends do."

"Takes spunk not to follow the herd," he said approvingly before returning the cigarette to the pack and slipping it into his duster pocket.

"I don’t mind," Dawn repeated.

"Yeah, but my dad does," Spike countered with a grimace.

Dawn studied the bleach and leather. "You don’t seem like the type that would listen to your dad," she pointed out.

"No reason not to," he retorted. "Doesn’t order me around. Just expects a bit ‘f common courtesy."

Dawn shrugged. "Whatever," she agreed, nervously glancing back at the door. "What do suppose they’re talking about for so long in there?" she asked worriedly.

"Prob’ly just sortin’ things out," Spike shrugged. "What’s gonna happen tomorrow an’ all."

The worried look in Dawn’s eyes increased. "Don’t worry ‘bout it, Li’l Bit," he reassured her. "Things’ll work out right."

Dawn felt her cheeks flushing slightly at the nickname. Usually she didn’t go in for that sort of thing, but it sounded so sweet and sexy coming from his lips. She decided she liked it. Hell, she would probably like anything he called her…

Elizabeth reemerged from the study then. "Disaster on hold," she announced, "for the moment."

"So I’m staying here, then?" Dawn asked excitedly.

"For tonight," Elizabeth insisted. "We’ll see what happens after that tomorrow."

"Thanks, Buffy!" Dawn practically squealed, throwing her arms around her sister and looking every bit the girl she still half was for a moment.

"You can thank me by not calling me ‘Buffy’," Elizabeth retorted.

"Only if you don’t call me ‘Dawnie’," Dawn insisted.

Elizabeth managed a wry smile at that. "Deal," she agreed.

* * *

It was well after midnight by the time Elizabeth and Spike finally got Dawn settled into the guestroom and were able to return to bed themselves.

Elizabeth let out a huge yawn as she slipped under the covers and gave Spike an apologetic smile. He merely shrugged before spooning up behind her. It had kind of been a foregone conclusion that the romantic mood of the evening was broken ever since Dawn’s first appearance.

Elizabeth sighed and snuggled into his embrace, shutting her weary eyelids. "Grown-up stuff sucks," she complained softly.

"’specially when it has such poor timin’," Spike teased against her hair.

She murmured in response, already half asleep from the worries that had just been put upon her shoulders.

Spike held her for a long time, contemplating her sleeping form tenderly, before the steady rhythm of her sleeping breaths lulled him into sleep as well…

Hey, I couldn't just go on forever with nothing but Spuffy lovin', could I? (Well, OK, yes, I could. But plot is good, too. Right? Right?! ^_^) Review for more...

Chapter Twenty-Three

Elizabeth awoke with a weary groan, reached over to the bed beside her, and snapped her eyes open when she found nothing there. "Spike?" she whispered lazily, confused. She rose to a sitting position and rubbed her eyes…and noticed for the first time that the sun was shinning right down on her through the skylight.

Her eyes widened when she looked at the clock. 12:30? Holy crap… OK, so maybe he had a decent excuse for not waiting around in bed for her to wake up.

With a yawn and a stretch, she slipped out from under the covers and pulled a pair of jeans from the bag she’d been too tired to unpack yesterday. Damn, I must’ve been really out of it… She could count on one hand the number of times Spike had woken up before her. An early bird, her boyfriend was not.

But, still, it had become part of her morning ritual to wake up all snug and warm in his arms. And she had some rather naughty designs on that private shower of his that she’d been hoping to test out that morning. Oh well, she’d just have to save it for later.

Now, she hadn’t forgotten the incident of the previous evening, but she had determined that it was too early - yes, even at 12:30, it was still too early - to deal with yet.

Having completed her sloppy morning dressing, she practically ran downstairs to the kitchen, following the voices there. With any luck, I’ll be just in time for lunch…

A little smile crossed her lips at the sight that met her eyes when she entered the Giles’ kitchen, however. Dawn, clad only in fuzzy pajamas with little rainbows and stars on them, sat at one end of the table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she stared down and the various colored puzzle pieces in front of her. Across the table from her, Spike sat, in full hotshot platinum-haired badass regalia, attempting to pound two puzzle pieces together that obviously didn’t fit.

She watched her sister giggle and inform Spike of this fact, and then he got the most adorable sulky look on his face, lower lip jutted out and big blue puppy dog eyes with a pathetic tilt of his head.

Practically leaping on the opportunity, she breezed into the kitchen and kissed that cut pouty look right off of his face. She could hear Dawn making gagging sounds in the background, but…mmm… Did he always taste this good when he pouted?

Dawn’s coughs became more vocal when Spike’s hand drifted across her thigh, slipping into the back pocket there.

Reluctantly, Elizabeth broke their kiss, swatting his hand away. "Minors present," she shooed him. "PG it up."

Dawn sulked at this. The fact that there was something to ‘PG’ up meant that her preppy, bubbly sister and the dreamiest, funniest, most gorgeous, treating her most like an adult-ness guy in the world - namely, Spike - were doing the nasty. If her eyes hadn’t been green before, they would have been now with envy.

"You shouldn’t’ve let me sleep so late," Elizabeth was chiding Spike lightly, oblivious to the sisterly wrath she was incurring.

"Tried," Spike insisted. "You made some rather scathin’ remarks about my parentage an’ my questionable sexuality before threatenin’ to permanently damage certain fragile portions ‘f my anatomy. I figured it was wise to let you sleep."

Elizabeth’s nose scrunched up. "Really? You’re making that up, right? ‘Cause I have absolutely no memory of-"

"Guys don’t manufacture threats to their balls," Spike felt obliged to point out.

Elizabeth whapped him playfully in the head. "PG?" she reminded him.

"I’ve taken sex ed." Dawn rolled her eyes. "I know all about that stuff."

Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she turned on her sister. "You better not know ‘all about’ it!" she exclaimed in horror. "You’re only fifteen!"

"Only fifteen?" Dawn repeated in disbelief. "Janice-"

"Is a skanky ho," Elizabeth finished for her. "I am so telling dad if you-"

"You’re only eighteen!" Dawn retorted. "Maybe I should tell him that you’re-"

"Why, you little-!"

"Why, you bitchy-!"

Spike sat perfectly still and hoped that the upcoming World War would somehow pass him by. Amazingly, however, instead of the predicted explosion, one of a very different sort occurred. Suddenly, with no prior warning, Elizabeth giggled.

Dawn’s giggled followed, and pretty soon the two of them were laughing hysterically. Spike nervously got up, hoping to inch from the room unnoticed and thus escape the clutches of these two obvious lunatics. Elizabeth caught his hand and foiled his plan, though.

"You got anything for breakfast around here?" she asked, batting long eyelashes up at him.

"Cocoa Crispies and Pop Tarts!" Dawn bounced in her seat as excitedly as a six-year-old at Disneyland.

"You fed my sister concentrated sugar for breakfast?!" Elizabeth exclaimed in wide-eyed horror. "Do you have any idea how hyper she gets?"

"Spike had ‘em, too," Dawn pointed out.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened further. "You let my boyfriend eat sugar for breakfast?!" she joked. "He gets even more hyper!"

"If you wanna go back upstairs, ‘ll show you just how much energy ‘ve got," Spike practically purred into her ear.

Elizabeth flushed both with excitement and with mortification that her little sister was right there. "PG? Hello? Hush." She placed one fingertip over his lips to silence them.

Her plan backfired, of course, when his tongue flicked out to suck her finger into his mouth. He looked up at her with wide blue eyes then, sucking sensuously just like he did when they…

"I give up," Elizabeth sighed wearily. Spike and innuendo were stuck together tighter than super-glue, and she realized the futility of trying to separate them.

Across the table, Dawn sighed inwardly. Me, too, she decided, watching the couple across from her. What good was jealousy around two people that were obviously so inseparable? It just made you feel like the evil bitch-villain from some lame soap opera. Not that she wanted to watch her sister macking with a cute guy she couldn’t have, of course…

Elizabeth watched her little sister turn studiously back to the puzzle and turned back to the matter at hand, leaving her hand to rest on Spike’s thigh as she sat in the seat beside him. "Has mom called yet this morning?"

Dawn froze for a minute, the illusion of peace and tranquility broken, but then shook her head. "No. But it’s three hours earlier over there."

Elizabeth nodded at that. "I’ll call them after breakfast," she decided, getting up to search around in the fridge. "Unless there’s lunch…?" She cast an inquiring look in Spike’s direction.

"If you want," he shrugged. "We’re pretty casual ‘bout that stuff around here. Eat whatever you want whenever you want."

"That is so cool," Dawn commented, snapping four pieces of the puzzle into place in quick succession. "Mom’s always got us on this super-tight schedule. Practically runs our whole lives…"

"No point in eatin’ when you’re not hungry," Spike shrugged, huddling down around the coffee mug in front of him and sipping from it.

"Nice to know there are smart people somewhere," Dawn agreed, another sequence of pieces falling into place beneath her patient fingertips.

Spike cautiously reached out again, picked up two pieces, and tried to put them together. He scowled when then didn’t fit, preparing for another fist hammering.

Elizabeth cut him off, snatching up one of the offending pieces and trying to put in near the border. It didn’t fit. She scowled. A fist formed.

Whap, whap whap!

Dawn cringed inwardly. "I don’t think that goes there," she felt obliged to point out.

"Stupid piece," Elizabeth scowled at it. "Why can’t I ever get the protrude-y thing to fit in the hole?"

Spike leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes widened in response, and her cheeks turned bright red. Dawn desperately pretended that it wasn’t obvious what Spike had just said and began the equivalent of mental "lalala"s.

"So, what’re you gonna tell mom?" Dawn asked somewhat nervously.

"Um, mom?" Elizabeth seemed a bit stunned by Spike’s suggestion. "Oh, well…um, we’ll have to book you on another flight and find a way to get you to the airport and-"

"I don’t wanna go," Dawn informed her sullenly.

Elizabeth sighed. "I know, Dawn, but…"

"It’s not like you never did anything like this," Dawn countered.

"That was different," Elizabeth snapped almost automatically.

"Yeah," Dawn agreed, "you never even bothered to contact mom or dad and let them wonder about you for three whole months."

"You have no idea what that was about!" Elizabeth practically screeched.

"No," Dawn agreed sullenly, "but I thought maybe it would mean you’d understand when someone needs to get away…"

With an angry huff, Elizabeth stormed out of the kitchen, leaving a guilty Dawn and a very confused Spike in her wake.

"Uh…Sweetness…?" Spike began.

"She ran away the summer after her junior year," Dawn provided.

Several pieces fell into place for Spike. Metaphorical pieces, of course. The damn puzzle still refused to give in to any of his impatient attempts. "Be back soon, Bit," he assured her before searching for Elizabeth.

She wasn’t too hard to find. His room was really the only place she knew where she could have guaranteed privacy…except from Spike, of course, but she didn’t mind him. Especially when he wrapped his arm around her like that and tucked her head under his chin and held her close.

"She didn’t know," Elizabeth felt obliged to point out that it wasn’t Dawn’s fault. "It was right after my dad married my step-mom, and everyone thought that was why…" She gulped. "I never mentioned Angel."

"’S OK, luv," Spike cooed softly. "’m not blamin’ you."

"No," Elizabeth sighed in agreement, "you’re not…" She took a deep breath, savoring the soft Spikey musk and fortifying herself with its strength. "She’s got a point, though," she conceded. "I had nowhere to run to, and if Dawn needs somewhere…"

"She’s not a bad kid," Spike commented. "Just a little lonely, I think."

"And, oh, can I get that," Elizabeth agreed. "When my own parents divorced…" She trailed off, fingering the rumpled sheets on his bed.

"Yeah, pet?" he encouraged her to continue.

Her hand drifted to the hem of his shirt, and she studied it intently for a moment, gathering her thoughts, before turning to look up at him. "It makes you feel like you’re all alone," she finished softly, "like everyone else’s too caught up in their own problems to even notice that you’re there, to even care what you think…"

"’Lizabeth…" Spike whispered against her lips.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she smiled at the feel of his warm breath against her cheek. "Spike…" she agreed, accepting his gentle kiss, allowing herself to drown for a moment in his passion, his affection, his… She shook her head and pulled away. "What should I do?" she asked.

His brow furrowed as he considered the options. "She’s gotta go back sooner or later," he said simply. "Can’t run from her problems forever."

"Christmas is next week," Elizabeth pointed out. "I feel like a ogre making her miserable for Christmas. And she really seems to like it here. Do you think…?" The unspoken question, ‘Are you OK if I consider it?’ hung between them.

"If it feels right to you," he agreed, giving her a little smile. "’m a bit fond of the sweet bit. Has a bit of big sis in her. Especially with the sarcasm and the beatin’s and all."

"My sister’s been beating on you?" Elizabeth’s eyes widened in mock-horror. "But that’s my prerogative!" She gave him an evil smile and placed a playful whap on his rump. "Mine," she practically purred, leaning in for a kiss, her hand squeezing his cute ass in the process.

He eagerly returned her kiss, aroused by her possessiveness as well as her playfulness. She slid beneath him, pulling him on top of her, encouraging him to wrap his body around her. They enjoyed a rather blissful ‘make-out session’, as Dawn would call it, just like that, hands roaming and reacquainting themselves with needy flesh.

"You know," Elizabeth finally broke away with a gasp, her cheeks flushed prettily, "I still haven’t taken my shower this morning…"

"Me, neither…" Spike agreed, molten fire in the depths of his blue-black eyes.

"And I am feeling rather dirty…"

"God, I hope so!" Spike moaned, catching her up in his arms and carrying her over to the bathroom.

Elizabeth let out a little squeal and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly to hold on. "Neanderthal," she accused.

"And don’t you love it, baby?" he practically purred. He set her feet lightly down on the cold tile and began to efficiently disrobe her, tisking slightly when he found no underwear beneath her jeans and tank-top. "Naughty girl…" he chided.

"I’m the one who’s naughty?" she retorted, one eyebrow raised as she unzipped his pants and freed the evidence of his own naughtiness.

"Guess we’re a matchin’ pair, then," he said with a smirk, pulling her into the shower beside him and turning on the water.

The spray was cold for a second, and they huddled together before it warmed up. They didn’t let the lack of cold separate them, though. Elizabeth slid into his arms and up his body gracefully, rising above his hardness before oh-so-slowly lowering herself once more…

"Christ!" Spike hissed, his eyes rolling back in their sockets at her heat. He felt his knees weaken and pressed her back up against the cold tile of the shower wall, using it for support as they began moving together frantically.

Elizabeth was sure she was in heaven. Hot Spike in front of her and inside her, cold wall at her back, warm water cascading down their bodies, allowing them to slide together more easily than ever before… Simply. Heaven.

"Spike!" she cried out, having known all along that this was too good to last long. Her inner muscles clamped down around him as she released the slick fluid of her pleasure.

"Luv…" His low voice rumbled, sounding potent and hoarse all at the same time, as he released his climax into her soft body.

With a gasp, they finally broke apart, moving back into a loose embrace.

"Stupid public showers in Westing House," Elizabeth complained, wishing they could do this every morning.

"Hafta savor the private one while we can," Spike agreed, still trying to catch his breath.

Elizabeth pulled him back in for another kiss, tasting the heady spice of his tongue before pulling away once more. "Back to reality, I guess," she said then, disappointed.

"Not quite yet," he countered with a smirk. "Now, ‘ll wash your back if you’ll wash mine…"

A smirk of her own crossed her lips at that, and she raised the sponge in a menacing manner and laughed…

* * *

"Did you have fun having sex in the shower?" Dawn asked matter-of-factly when Elizabeth and Spike walked back in, both of their hair still wet. She looked up from her nearly-finished puzzle with an evil smile to see the two beet-red faces she’d helped create.

"Dawn!" Elizabeth gasped in horror. "You’re… You’re not… No, with the bad… Little sister can’t… Oh god," she buried her face in her hands, embarrassed beyond belief.

"You! Anya Jenkins! Same room! End of Universe!" Spike seemed equally flustered.

Dawn merely smiled at them, proud of her accomplishment. "Who’s Annie whatever?" she asked curiously.

"Anya," Elizabeth corrected. "Jenkins. She lives in our dorm. She’s very fond of making statements like that."

"Two of you," Spike mock-whimpered, "end of world…"

"Uh-oh, I think I broke him." Dawn’s nose scrunched up at that. "Sorry, Bu-er, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile that Dawn was making a concerted effort to remember her new name. No one else in her family even bothered to try. "Don’t worry about it," she assured her sister with a grin. "I’ll fix him this evening."

"I bet you will," Dawn agreed with a giggle.

Elizabeth blushed slightly but managed to give Dawn an unrepentant grin nonetheless.

"Girl Talk!" Spike pointed a finger back and forth between them accusingly. "Now you’re doin’ Girl Talk right in front of me!"

"All right," Elizabeth patted his still-wet hair, "we’ll stop emasculating you…for the moment."

She and Dawn shared another giggle.

"Where’s dad?" Spike asked, heading for the living room. "Gotta get away from all this bleedin’ estrogen…" he grumbled under his breath as he went.

Elizabeth and Dawn giggled again.

Elizabeth sobered quickly, however. "I hate to say it, but we have to figure out what to do with you, Dawn." She felt almost guilty breaking up what had possibly been the most fun she and Dawn had ever had together.

A defensive light instantly lit up in the younger girl’s eyes. "Yeah?" she said with feigned disinterest, snapping her gum angrily.

"It seems reasonable to do this in a way that will leave everybody the least pissed off," Elizabeth went on. "Don’t you agree?"

"Sure." Dawn rolled her eyes. ‘Everyone’ always equaled ‘everyone but her.’

"Good," Elizabeth went on as if the attitude weren’t even there. "So, what do you want to do?"

Dawn blinked at that in surprise. "What does it matter?" she finally asked cautiously.

"Well, if I were to, say, argue for you to stay here, then I’d want to make sure you actually want to stay here first," Elizabeth pointed out.

"You would do that?" Dawn sounded like she’d just been given a puppy.

"Tell me what you want to do, and we’ll see," Elizabeth replied evenly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Dawn bit her lip and thought. "I want to stay here," she decided. "There’s real snow here, and Christmas lights and - ooh! - maybe a tree? And I won’t spend the entire time being lugged back and forth between business meetings."

"More like art galleries," Elizabeth couldn’t help counter with a wry grin.

Dawn’s nose wrinkled in distaste. "You’re kidding, right?"

"You can mock my paintings if you want," Elizabeth offered as a consolation.

"You paint?" Dawn blinked in surprise. The cheerleader has layers? Where did those come from?

Elizabeth’s cheeks reddened slightly. "Yeah," she admitted.

"I guess that’s cool, then," Dawn decided.

"So, I’ve got a check for ‘real Christmas’ and no for ‘Summers Christmas’ from the bratty teen," Elizabeth teased.

Dawn stuck her tongue out at her, and Elizabeth laughed. "You know," Dawn said, flicking an invisible speck of dust from the table in order to look anywhere but at Elizabeth, "you’re a lot less lame than I remembered."

"And you’re a lot less whiny," Elizabeth conceded as well.

"Plus," a sly grin crossed Dawn’s face, "you’ve got way better taste in men than you used to."

A dreamy smile dimpled Elizabeth’s cheeks. "I do, don’t I?" she sighed happily.

"So," Dawn couldn’t help but press how far this new and entirely unexpected sisterly bonding would go, "does he ride well?"

Elizabeth blushed horribly but gave Dawn an evil smirk as well. "Like a finely-tuned Jaguar," she couldn’t help but tease.

And then it was Dawn’s turn to blush as Elizabeth went off to continue ‘Impossible Christmas Negotiations ‘99’…

* * *

"Oh, Elizabeth, there you are," Joyce said with a smile.

"Where did Spike and Giles go?" Elizabeth looked around the living room curiously.

Joyce rolled her eyes. "They’re in the garage. Something about William needing to get motor oil on his hands before he turned into a poof."

Elizabeth couldn’t help but snicker at that.

"You and Dawn have been traumatizing him, I take it?" Joyce said with a stern expression.

Elizabeth sheepishly nodded.

A wicked smile curled the edges of Joyce’s lips. "Good for you," she cheered. "Can’t let those male egos get too big…"

"No danger of that with me and Dawn on the job," Elizabeth agreed with a smile.

Joyce’s eyes twinkled, but her expression turned serious. "Have you called your mother yet today?" she inquired.

"Stepmother," Elizabeth corrected automatically. "No. I figured we should sort out the options here before adding more complications."

Joyce nodded. "Good plan," she decided. "Have you talked to Dawn?"

Elizabeth sighed. "She wants to stay here for Christmas," she began. "Look, I’m really sorry for imposing on you like this. I know you didn’t sign up to take in refugees. And I’m perfectly willing to find someplace else in town for her to-"

"Elizabeth," Joyce cut her off with a kind smile. "We’d be delighted to take your sister in over the holidays."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "Because we really can work something else out, if you’d rather. I really feel guilty about dumping this all on you."

"There’s no need to feel guilty," Joyce assured her. "We’re really quite happy to have her. We haven’t had a big family Christmas in years. Besides, Dawn’s an excellent cooking assistant. She helped me bake the first batch of Christmas cookies just this morning."

"Dawn can cook?" Elizabeth sounded surprised. More like stunned. Where in the Summers household could Dawn have ever learned how to cook?

"She’s been quite helpful," Joyce assured her, "and is delightful company." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Don’t look now, but I think William’s a bit taken with her. He always wanted a little sister to look after. You know, to prove his manliness." She gave Elizabeth a little wink.

Elizabeth chuckled at that. "Then he’s just going to have to learn how annoying having a little sister really is," she agreed with a grin…

* * *

"Well?" Dawn’s voice broke slightly with anticipation.

Elizabeth closed the door to the study behind her, a stern expression on her face. "I just finished talking with mom," she said, dragging this out as long as she possibly could.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Well, duh!" she agreed. "So?"

Elizabeth couldn’t help but crack a smile then. "You can stay," she finally admitted.

"Eee!" Dawn squealed and practically tackled Elizabeth onto the floor.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened with the full horror that was a hyperactive teenager. Sullen to bouncy in less than a tenth of a second.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Dawn gushed. "You’re the coolest sister ever!"

"But only if you behave yourself," Elizabeth added. "And you are going back home on the 3rd."

"Why?" Dawn pouted. "I thought you had an extra week off after that?"

"I do," Elizabeth agreed, "but I have to spend at least some alone time with my gorgeous boyfriend, right?"

Dawn grudgingly conceded the point. "So," she asked conversationally, "tell me all about this gorgeous boyfriend you managed to snatch up."

Elizabeth grinned and spilled the entire story in all its romantic - and sometimes not so romantic - detail…

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Chapter Twenty-Four

Abstractly, she had known that it would happen sooner or later. Whether it was due to her worries about the whole debacle with her sister or the curse of the season or even just the inevitability of the universe itself, she wasn’t sure. But, nevertheless, it had to happen sooner or later.

Elizabeth woke up that morning wrapped up in Spike’s arms, the rays of dawn just beginning to stream in through the skylight above the bed. She lay there for a minute, just admiring how the rosy glow lit up the woodwork, making the room seem cozy, safe, inviting…

The man beside her was all those things as well - well, maybe just a tad dangerous, just to keep things interesting - and Elizabeth ran ephemeral touches over his bare chest, enjoying its sculpted beauty. Whatever she had done to deserve a man like this, she was profusely thanking her past self for it now.

He lay curled up on his side in his sleep, facing her as he always did. His arm had been wrapped around her waist before she had woken up, but then she’d shifted out of their comfortable spooning position to face him, and it had ended up resting casually on her thigh instead. That was one of the things she was beginning to enjoy the most about being with Spike - how it could be passionate and casual at the same time. She’d never really had that before since…well, since none of her ‘boyfriends’ had ever bothered to stick around before. But the way she and Spike fit so perfectly together, even when they were just lying like this, set off a deep warm feeling in her chest. She’d never felt comfortable like this before - in her nudity and in her sexuality. But she found it quite liberating, and now that she had it…

A shiver went through her. OK, so there was one disadvantage to falling asleep naked in your lover’s arms after a night of tender lovemaking. Especially if said lover hogged all the blankets come morning. Elizabeth snatched up the oversized gray T-shirt that hung over the headboard on her side of the bed for just these kinds of emergencies. She slipped it over her head and smoothed it into place over her thighs. Her fingers lingered over the lettering at the front, the navy blue ‘College of New York, Class of 2002’ already perfectly memorized. It was Spike’s shirt, of course, and that was why she loved wearing it to bed. Surrounded by him, his scent…

She let out a dreamy sigh and slipped back into his arms, welcoming the warmth of his pale, lean body. She held him against her now, encouraging him to lie across her, tucking his head into the crook of her neck. She smiled at the feel of his warm breath tickling the soft hairs at the back of her neck and decided that she could stay like this forever…

He let out a little murmur and stirred in her arms, snuggling in closer. She stroked his hair lazily in response, tracing the paths of the platinum curls and encouraging him to wake up.

He did so slowly, yawning against her before stretching out every muscle in his powerful body in turn. The sight of his muscles rippling sent a little jolt of feminine pride through her. Mine, her mind seemed to snap.

"’Mornin’, luv." Sleepy blue eyes turned up to look at her, and she felt herself melt into a sticky puddle of goo in response.

"’Morning, cutie," she countered, placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose.

"It late?" He scratched the back of his head with one hand.

"Early," she assured him. "We’ve got hours before anyone expects us to be up."

"Good," he mumbled, resting his cheek against her shoulder once more.

She sighed in satisfaction. Now, this was what life was all about… "My big, cuddly kitty-cat." She kissed his brow affectionately.

He let out a little growl of annoyance in response to the nickname.

"Is kitty-cat purring?" she couldn’t help but goad him.

"Kitty-cat’s preparin’ to sink ‘is claws in," Spike retorted grumpily.

"Maybe kitty-cat just needs to have his tummy rubbed," Elizabeth countered with a coy smile. Her fingers stroked down the center of his rock-hard abs to find something else that was just beginning to harden.

"Don’t think that’s kitty-cat’s tummy you’ve got there, luv," Spike teased, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure.

"Whatever makes him purr," she shrugged, wrapping her fist around the steadily growing length of him.

"Christ, luv!" he exclaimed. "After last night? You’re bloody well gonna kill me this way…"

"But what a way to go," she countered with a smile. The tip of her thumb flicked across the head, eliciting a gasp and a moan.

She gave him a wicked smile in response. She figured this was fair play, given that he had spent half the night with his head between her thighs, making her beg and whimper for his touch. A little pang of guilt had shot through her afterwards that she couldn’t return the favor, not after what had almost happened with…

She brushed the thought from her mind and continued to make him squirm. She loved watching him like this, seeing him lose control as the pleasure overcame him. He was usually so confident in his sexuality, but when she got him like this…she felt powerful, desirable, beautiful.

"Yeah, like that," he whispered against her throat, urging her on. "Yeah, right there. Oh, you know me so well, baby. The way you touch me, the way you… Yeah! Oh…" He trailed off as he spilled his pleasure into her waiting hands.

She wrinkled her nose slightly at the sticky, white fluid. "Looks like a shower is in order," she suggested slyly.

He gave her an eager grin in response…

* * *

So, up until then, it had been a nice morning. The problem began after they’d finished their shower and gotten dressed.

Elizabeth had been happily debating whether or not shower sex was evidence that god did, in fact, exist when Spike abruptly let out an excited little shout from where he was checking his e-mail.

"Grades are on-line, pet," he ushered her over, clicking on the link to the college’s on-line access page.

Elizabeth groaned. "Can’t I live in denial just a little bit longer?" she protested, her lower lip jutting out in a playful pout.

"You did great," he assured her. "Plus, first semester and all. Your dad doesn’t approve, just say you were adjustin’."

"But he’s already pissed at me for breaking up with Riley," she pointed out. "And he’s probably more pissed now that I’ve granted Dawn asylum."

Spike merely shook his head with a smile and checked his own grades.

"Ooh, can I see?" Elizabeth bounced up behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leaned over his shoulder. "Oh…wow." Her eyes widened slightly at the transcript before her. She hadn’t seen straight A’s since…well, since her own high-school report cards, but college was actually hard.

"Yeah, well…guess you finally found out my dark secret." Spike was blushing slightly, nervously fidgeting in his chair a bit.

"You never told me you were a genius." Elizabeth was still slightly stunned. Spike had always seemed like just an ordinary slacker guy. She knew he was smart, yeah, but this…

"Yeah, ‘m a nerd." Spike was looking decidedly uncomfortable now. "Don’t tell anyone, right?"

Elizabeth’s finger drifted to one of the long list of A’s. "It was you," she said in surprise. "You were Steinberg’s 20th A."

"Er, yeah…"

"Do you have any idea how often Riley hinted that it was him?" Elizabeth shot back. "And you never said a word."

"Don’t like to brag," he insisted in a shy voice, looking anywhere but at her.

"Since when?" she demanded in disbelief.

A hint of his usual sly smile lit up his face at that. "Not ‘bout school stuff, then," he agreed. "Other talents ‘f mine, ‘d be happy to show you…in intimate detail…"

Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile at that. She placed a quick kiss on his forehead and gave him a quick squeeze. He pulled her into his lap in response, and they enjoyed several blissful kisses before Spike finally pulled away for breath.

"You wanna check?" he offered her the use of his computer.

"Let me live the happy life just a little bit longer," she insisted. "Let’s go eat breakfast first."

"You got it, luv," he agreed, helping her to her feet as he rose himself. "After all, we need to keep our energy up…"

"One of us needs to keep more up than energy," she couldn’t help but tease.

He gave her a mock-offended gasp and proceeded to stick his nose up in the air haughtily before stomping down the stairs to breakfast.

Elizabeth giggled as she followed him, but something was different. It was like there was all this weird new stuff about Spike all of a sudden that she’d never known before, and… She shook her head when he turned back to smile at her, blue eyes flashing. Still the same old Spike, right? Right.

* * *

"I was thinking that we should go buy a tree today before all the nice ones are sold," Joyce said, sipping her coffee and looking around at the assembled faces at the breakfast table. By some random quirk of fate, they’d all shown up for breakfast at the same time. "Who’s with me?"

Dawn bit her lip, debating the coolness of bouncing up and down in her seat with her hand raised high in the air, going "Me, me!" It severely failed the cool test. "Yeah, sure, I’ll go," she said disinterestedly, pushing a lock of her long silky hair over her shoulder gracefully. Coolness still intact.

"Us, too, hey luv?" Spike inquired of Elizabeth.

She bit her lip. "Sure, yeah," she said dully.

Spike cast her a curious look, but she shook it off.

"We should probably take the van," Giles commented. "We’ll need the space."

Joyce nodded. "I’d like to stop by the gallery first, and we need to make another grocery run this weekend…"

Elizabeth’s mind wandered as the normality of every day life overtook the Giles’ table. She watched a grape bounce off of Spike’s forehead while Dawn attempted to look as innocent as was physically possible, yet only a ghost of a smile crossed her lips.

She just didn’t get it. Why did she feel so tired all of a sudden? And not hungry, too. In fact, it seemed that she had the beginnings of a headache coming on and…

"You all right?" Spike’s whisper was just quiet enough that no one else could hear it.

"Fine," Elizabeth insisted with a tight-lipped smile. "You know, I’m feeling really tired. I think I need to go back upstairs and sleep some more." This last part was directed to the table at large.

"Do you want us to wait until this afternoon to get the tree?" Joyce offered.

"No, go on ahead," Elizabeth gave her a grateful smile. "I’m sure you can carry on without me."

"You want me to stay here with you, luv?" Spike asked, mildly concerned.

"No, I’m fine," Elizabeth repeated. "Don’t let me ruin your day." She left at that.

The four remaining at the table just blinked at each other in surprise.

"Wow," Dawn commented, "you must’ve really pissed her off."

"I didn’t do anything!" Spike insisted, completely baffled.

Joyce sighed. "Maybe she’s just feeling a bit under the weather," she suggested. "She probably just needs some sleep."

"Yeah…" Spike said thoughtfully. "Sleep…"

"So, you’re still coming with us, right, Spike?" Dawn asked hopefully. Hey, just because cute guy was totally taken by her sister didn’t mean that she couldn’t innocently enjoy being crammed together in a back seat of a car with said cute guy.

"Just give me a minute to see if ‘Lizabeth’s all right," he excused himself, heading upstairs after her.

"Oh dear," Giles wiped his glasses. "I really do hope that was nothing."

* * *

"You want anythin’ before we head out?" Spike asked in a soft voice from the doorway of his room, watching Elizabeth curled up in a ball on his bed. "Tylenol? Soup? Back-rub?"

"No," she said in a feeble voice.

"I don’t hafta go if you don’t want me to," he assured her, approaching the bed and sitting on the edge of it beside her.

"Go," she insisted. "I’m fine."

"’Lizabeth," he began carefully, "you’re obviously not fine. I can’t help unless you tell me-"

"Maybe I don’t need your help," she huffed, yanking the blanket over her shoulder so that she couldn’t see him out of the corner of her eye anymore.

He frowned at that. "Luv, have I done something to upset you?" His voice turned a shade more upper class at that, his rough edges softening to accommodate her obvious distress.

She sighed. "No," she assured him. "I think I just need some alone time."

"If you’re sure…?" he sounded hesitant.

"Positive," she insisted.

He leaned over to place a quick kiss on her lips, and she let him for a second before pushing him away.

"Stubbly," she explained, rubbing at a couple of her dark, coarse hairs that were just beginning to shadow his chin. "You should shave."

"Right," he agreed, fingering his cheek. She hadn’t even seemed to notice earlier. "Look, luv, ‘m gonna offer to set up the lights. ‘ll be downstairs if you need me."

"You don’t need to stay on my account," she repeated.

"Yeah, but I-"

"Go," she insisted a bit grumpily. "I’ll be fine."

"All right then…if you’re sure…" He got up and went to the bathroom to shave. "Shouldn’t be gone much more ‘n a couple of hours."

"Fine," Elizabeth practically sulked before drifting back off into sleep…

* * *

"Well, what about this one?" Giles gestured to a Scotch pine leaning against the wall.

Dawn bent backward at a funny angle in imitation of the tree’s trunk and giggled when she leaned back too far, only to be caught by Spike’s waiting arms.

"Yes, well, I suppose it is a bit lop-sided," Giles agreed, shaking his head at the impossibility of the four of them ever agreeing on anything.

"Ooh, check out this one!" Dawn practically squealed, slipping from Spike’s arms to flaunt over to a dark green fir.

"Is this one painted, too?" Spike teased lightly, examining the branches.

"It’s got a nice shape to it," Joyce agreed, reaching over with her heavily gloved hands to hold it upright. "Straight trunk, too. What’s the verdict on the paint?"

"Looks clean," Spike grudgingly admitted.

Dawn couldn’t resist the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him at that. He waited until his parents weren’t looking before he retorted, adding an obscene gesture to the mix as well. Dawn laughed at that. This was so cool, almost like having real parents and a brother and a sister…well, a sister who was at home sick. But still…

"There’s quite a bit of space underneath for presents as well," Giles added excitedly, his eyes practically sparkling in anticipation.

The other three members of the party, all of whom were pretending that were mature enough that that hadn’t been their primary consideration also, gave him condescending looks.

"It’s what you were all thinking," he accused, confident in the accuracy of this statement.

Spike and Dawn exchanged a sheepish glance, and Joyce wrapped an arm around her husband in response. Giles gave them all a triumphant smile.

"Now, where is the lot attendant?" he inquired, searching around for their means of a quick and easy escape…

* * *

By the time they’d gotten back, Elizabeth felt bad. That is to say, she felt good, health-wise, but she felt bad about snapping at Spike and being all bitchy and moody. Determined to make it up to him, she greeted him at the door with a quick kiss, winning a delighted little smile in response before he practically dragged her outside to see the tree they’d bought.

The high ceiling of the living room allowed for a nice, tall tree, and they had all helped carry it into the house with the exception of Dawn, who guided what looked to be a large walking mass of fuzzy green needles. Spike and Giles had gotten into the requisite manly fight about how to get the tree upright most efficiently until the levelheaded women had subtly intruded and done it the right way.

All in all, fun, humorous, entertaining…

And yet Elizabeth still felt that strange distance from Spike that had been bothering her earlier. She half pouted that they’d left her behind on what had obviously been an entertaining trip, and then banged herself on the head because she really had no one else to blame but herself that she hadn’t gone. There was also that nasty voice in the back of her head that wanted Spike to have read her mind and stayed with her all morning…except she also would’ve been pissed at him then and… And, she just didn’t know. But something wasn’t right, wasn’t as perfect as it had been when she’d woken up this morning.

She managed a weak smile when Spike flopped on the living room couch beside her, though, and squeezed his thigh gently.

"How does she keep that up?" he wondered in disbelief, staring in amazement as Dawn continued to wrap the strings of lights around the tree, seemingly never tiring even for a second.

"That’s just old age catching up with you," Elizabeth teased, taking a sip of her hot cocoa.

"’m only nineteen!" Spike protested in outrage.

"Old man." She couldn’t help herself.

"That means you’ll be an old woman next month," he pointed out.

"Nope," she insisted, shaking her head. "Once I turn nineteen, twenty’s the age of geezer-dom."

"So I won’t be an old man for four months?" Spike rolled his eyes at the delightful illogic of her argument.

"Yup!" she agreed, popping the ‘p’.

He gave her a bright smile and leaned in close, his lips only inches from hers so that he could…

"Hey!" she complained, wide-eyed. "Hot chocolate thief!"

He gave her his patented sexy smirk, complete with hot chocolate mustache. She giggled in response before moving her mug safely away from his larcenous lips.

"’m ready to steal more than that," he informed her with a sexy purr, leaning in once more.

She shooed him away. "You’ve got hot chocolate all over your mouth," she informed him. "Wipe it off."

"Sure you don’t wanna do it for me?" he suggested, one eyebrow raised.

She sighed and conceded his point. Her tongue flicked out, tracing the lines of his mouth and licking up every last bit of the chocolate on his face.

"You guys are so gross," Dawn felt obliged to point out from where she was tangled in the garlands.

Elizabeth shot her an annoyed look. "Tinsel head," she shot back.

Dawn eyes widened when she found several of the silver strands in her hair. With a squeak, she ran for the bathroom and the mirror it provided. After all, it wouldn’t do to look anything less than her most gorgeous, even if there was no one there to see her…well, except Spike, but after the hot chocolate mustache, she had enough dirt on him to last for a lifetime.

"Bit’s leapin’ back and forth from actin’ like a kid and a grown-up faster’n a Ping-Pong ball," Spike commented, leaning back on the couch and pulling Elizabeth forward so that she rested on his chest comfortably.

"Ah, the high-school years…" Elizabeth reminisced before scrunching up her nose. "You couldn’t pay me to go back."

Spike chuckled at that. "With you there," he agreed. "Didn’t have a nice, warm ‘Lizabeth in my arms then."

"Yeah," she agreed with a little smile.

"So you’re feelin’ better now, pet?" he asked cautiously, loathe to break the comfortable silence between them.

She stiffened slightly. "Better," she agreed tersely.

"I wish you would-" he began.

"What?" she cut him off, pulling back out of his arms and into a sitting position.

He frowned up at her. "I wish you would tell me what’s wrong," he finished his sentiments.

"Nothing’s wrong," she insisted, getting up and walking over to the tree. She quickly picked up the garland where Dawn had left off and began looping it over the branches.

"Yeah, that ‘nothing’s a real bother." Spike was standing behind her now, unlit cigarette between his lips.

"What does that mean?" she demanded, not liking his sarcastic tone.

"That you’ve been weird all day!" he explained, his arms flinging outward helplessly. "You’re bein’ all weird and secretive, and then pushin’ me away one minute an’ actin’ like everything’s normal the next. ‘S like you’re a faucet, runnin’ hot and cold!"

"Well, I’m sorry if you don’t approve," she said tightly.

"Luv," his voice softened immediately, "I just wanna make things right between us…" His hands rested gently on her shoulders.

She shrugged them off. "Then maybe you should quit keeping things from me," she spit out before she knew what she was saying.

"Like what?" he asked in disbelief. "Christ, Summers, what with everythin’ ‘ve told you and all the stories my dad’s been spillin’, you prob’ly know more ‘bout me than I do!"

"Like how you’ve been secretly mocking me all along?" she countered, tears in her eyes.

"What?!" he exclaimed, completely flabbergasted.

Dawn reentered the room at that point, took one look at the bleached couple, and fled upstairs to the room she was staying in. No way did they need an audience right then.

Elizabeth and Spike barely even noticed. "What’re you talkin’ about, sweetness?" Spike asked more softly, catching her elbow and turning her to face him.

"You were lying to me all this time," she insisted, tears in her eyes. "Pretending like you were just this normal guy. I guess I know now why you kept brushing aside all my academic concerns. After all, to you it’s all trivial."

"’S not trivial," he insisted with a frown. "Is that what this is all about? Well, ‘m sorry I didn’t hand you my entire transcript the instant we started datin’, but I didn’t think it mattered."

"You lied," she insisted. "You were faking all those times you complained about classes, and-and…"

"Everyone complains about homework," Spike said with a roll of his eyes. "I don’t wanna to it anymore than you do."

"Yeah, but you could’ve at least told me so I wouldn’t have been looking stupid all this time!" she practically screeched.

"Oh no, now," Spike shook his head vehemently, "that’s not fair. ‘ve never thought you were stupid. Annoyin’, bossy chit, yeah," he tried to tease.

"You’re not helping," she practically hissed.

"’Lizabeth, this is nothin’, not important in the slightest. There’s no reason to suddenly be all intimidated-"

"By you?" she snorted, shoving him away from her. "That’ll be the day…"

"Then what?" he demanded at a loss.

"You tell me since you’re so smart," she grumbled, "know how to fix all my problems and everything."

"Well, I don’t know!" he retorted. "’m an idiot! Spell it out for me."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and refused to look at him.

"Is this just some mood-swing thing, or what?" he demanded. "Time for you monthlies or-" He froze and flinched at that. He really knew better… Thus, proving my ‘I’m an idiot’ point, he decided.

She turned on him then, eyes flashing. "You…" she was so enraged, she was at a loss for words. She took a step closer to him, and he gulped noticeably. "Just leave me alone," she finally finished wearily. "I don’t want to even see you…"

* * *

It had taken Spike all of five minutes lying alone in his bed to realize that there was no way in hell that he was going to sleep. Elizabeth had been cold and distant that entire evening, although only towards him. He honestly didn’t know what he’d said - well, before the rather foolish comment about her PMSing - but it took him even less time to decide to do something about it.

The door to the second guest room was slightly ajar when he approached, and then light was on inside. Cautiously, he rapped on the solid wood, trying to compose what he was going to say to her when he did so. Everything else he’d tried had just blown up in his face, and he was still at a loss.

Elizabeth answered within seconds, leaning against the doorframe in a long silken nightgown, worrying her lip between her teeth as she looked up at him.

All words escaped him at the sight of her looking so beautiful…and so unreachable at the moment. Intelligent, coherent thought faded to nothing, and emotion overcame him so much that he had to fight back tears from the corners of his eyes. "’m sorry," he managed to whisper raggedly. "’m so, so sorry…"

She broke at that as well, practically collapsing into his arms. The bed in this room had looked so cold and empty, and she’d been fighting the urge to go up to him ever since she’d retired.

A gasp of relief escaped his lips when she was in his arms once more, hands ephemerally caressing his body as she held onto him tightly.

"I should’ve told you," he whispered into her hair. "Just didn’t occur to me, luv. So sorry. Shouldn’t’ve let this happen."

"No, I was weird," she shook her head insistently. "I kinda overreacted. I guess I was just surprised and… Hey, my boyfriend’s a genius!" she said somewhat proudly.

"Not really," he pointed out. "Somehow managed to make a complete ass outta myself."

"Not too hard to do," she teased lightly, her face still pressed into his chest, "given that you’re an ass already and all…"

He let out a mock-annoyed snort before smiling slightly. "Our first fight was about nothin’, wasn’t it?" he couldn’t help but shake his head at the ridiculousness of it.

"I guess we didn’t have anything else to fight about," she agreed with a giggle.

He smiled shyly down at her and cautiously reached up to stroke her cheek. "Come to bed?" he pleaded softly. "Can’t sleep without you there."

She smiled at that as well and brushed a gentle kiss across his lips. "OK," she agreed before leaping up into his arms and letting him carry up to his room…

* * *

The next morning she woke up and felt like an idiot.

First of all, she discovered while going to the bathroom that, oops, yes she had been PMSing yesterday. Although still, even if it was true, any guy in his right mind would have the sense not to mention it.

Second, she finally got up the courage to check her grades on-line - while Spike was still sleeping so he couldn’t see, of course - and discovered that, hey, he wasn’t the only straight A student in their little relationship.

This second fact had her so giddy that she woke him from his peaceful slumber with a passionate kiss, informed him what a complete idiot she was, and then kissed him several more times in celebration.

So, in summary, she was an idiot.

Hey, things can't be absolutely perfect all the time, right? But that wasn't too painful, huh? Be sure to review for Christmas next chapter... ~_^

Chapter Twenty-Five

Elizabeth awoke before the sun rose on Christmas morning to one of those very rare occasions where Spike had awakened before her. More specifically, he had awakened before her and was feeling very naughty.

She gasped into consciousness just as he entered her, feeling him slip all the way inside right up to the hilt. His hand pressed flat against her stomach, holding her back against his chest to increase the depths of his thrusts from behind. She practically melted in response, just lying there on her side and letting him turn her entire body to Jell-O. This was how every Christmas should begin…

His lips drifted to her ear, and he began to whisper sweet nothings to her as he licked and nibbled at the sensitive lobe. She reached one hand back to tangle in his platinum hair, holding him close, wanting to touch every bit of him as she…

Her climax was gentle and slow, like the feel of warm ocean waves wrapping around you, surrounding gradually and easily. His name escaped her lips in a prayer of fervent supplication as the tide receded once more, and they fell back to earth together.

She twisted in his arms to face him once he slipped out of her and caught him in a passionate kiss, tasting him for all he was worth. It was quite a while before they pulled apart, gasping for breath, both still high on the pleasure they’d shared. Elizabeth looked up at him from under long eyelashes and smiled. Everything about him was so…she just…he was…

Simply. Breathtaking.

"Santa saw that, you know," she couldn’t help but tease. "Now he knows what a naughty boy you are." She flicked the pad of her finger against the tip of his nose. "No presents for you," she taunted.

His eyes narrowed at he let out a sexy little growl that made her hot for him all over again. "Already got my present," he countered with a self-satisfied smirk. "Besides," he leaned in to nibble on her shoulder, "’m not the only one who’s been naughty…"

"Mmm," she murmured in agreement. "Coal in my stocking, too, then."

"Was it worth it?" he asked with a little smile.

She pretended to consider this for a moment, not wanting to give that ego of his too much of a boost. "Maybe," she finally decided with a sly smile, "let me check one more time, just to be sure."

He rolled willingly with her when she tackled him back onto the mattress, allowing his wrists to be pinned up above his head. The gaze that looked up at her was hungry, usually blue eyes darkened completely to black in his desire for her.

She slid her body sensuously along the length of his, only the thin cotton of the gray T-shirt that she wore separating them. The hardened buds of her nipples pressed into him through the material as her chest flattened against his harder one. If anything, the tortuous separation made their touch seem even more erotic.

"Elizabeth…" he whispered raggedly, eyes never leaving her face.

"William…" she breathed out just as slowly, running the rarely-used syllables of his real name over her tongue like an exotic wine to be savored.

"Luv, please…" He was hard and trembling against her, his entire body shaking with the need to be deep inside her once more.

On other days, she might have teased him a bit more, but they had been separated for almost a week due to her stupid biological cycle and, plus, it was Christmas.

"Merry Christmas, baby," she soothed, slowly lowering herself down onto him. Her inner walls stretched slowly outward, accommodating the swollen head of his length as it pierced ever closer to her womb.

He hissed and tried to buck up into her, but her thighs held him tightly in place.

"Shh, I’ve got you, luv," she whispered softly, gently beginning to rock against him, a fire flaring deep in her belly where he struck her sweet spot. "I’ll take such good care of you…" She leaned over him fully to steal a kiss from his parted lips, enjoying the way he whimpered against her tongue. She couldn’t even begin to describe how wonderful this was, knowing that he wanted her this much, that he was all hers…

"’Lizabeth…" The name sounded divine as it slipped past his lips, the heat of his exhalation warming her own lips.

"Spike." She feasted on his mouth as he came within her, her fingers clutching his hair in an effort to pull him even closer. Her own internal muscles clenched around him, trapping him within her and milking as much pleasure from their coupling as they could.

She collapsed on his chest when their climaxes had finally passed, her body limp, spent, completely satisfied and relaxed.

He held her tight and stroked her hair for a minute before tilting her chin so that she was looking right into his eyes. She felt herself drowning in those deep blue pools, the emotions there more powerful than mere words could express. For a moment, it frightened her in its intensity, and then she remembered that this was Spike and her, and it was all, oh, so right…

"We better go downstairs before Dad comes up here," he said regretfully. "Never can wait to open his presents."

Elizabeth smiled at that. "He’s just a big kid, isn’t he?" she joked slightly, ruffling his platinum curls. "Just like his son."

A wide smile spread across Spike’s face at that. "You tellin’ me you can wait?" he countered.

"Humph," she mock-pouted. "What happened to ‘I already got my present’?" she demanded.

"You sayin’ you didn’t enjoy yours?" His lower lip jutted out in a way that indicated all too clearly that there was only one way she could answer that question and leave his manhood intact.

"Mmm, Spike…" She nuzzled his throat affectionately. "Exactly what I wanted…"

He wrapped his arms around her in response, holding her close for a minute, just relishing the feel of her body and the scent of her shampoo and the warmth of-

"Will, are you up?" A banging started on the door, accompanied by what sounded like Giles’ voice only…giddy?

"Your Dad sounds…" Elizabeth began.

"’m up!" Spike called out instantly, not wanting the nightmare of his father catching them in bed naked to become a reality. "We’re coming right down!"

"I shall burst right in if you’re not downstairs in five minutes," Giles threatened before his footsteps could be heard going downstairs.

"…hyper," Elizabeth finished with a shudder. "I’m about to be scarred for life, amn’t I?"

Spike nodded vigorously, his own eyes wide with mock-horror as he scrambled to get dressed. Elizabeth hastened to follow him since certain of her nightmares centered on Giles storming in on them while naked as well.

They exchanged a conspiratorial smile when they had both slipped into their official ‘sleep clothes’ before racing for the door to see who could get downstairs first…

* * *

"Eee! Thank you!" Dawn squealed, practically choking Elizabeth with the force of her hug.

"It’s just a sweater," Elizabeth felt obliged to point out, giving Spike a dirty look as he laughed at her.

"Yeah, but it’s actually my size. And not hideous," Dawn pointed out.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but grimace at that. Ah, the trademark of a Hank Summers gift, indicating all too clearly that he had no clue what his daughters’ tastes were or even roughly what size they were. Elizabeth still shuddered at the memory of the one year he’d come to the rather strange conclusion that she was a size 16.

"So, whose turn is it now?" Dawn asked happily, looking around at the gifts that still lay around them.

"It’s been a while since Rupert’s gone," Joyce kindly pointed out. Giles had been demonstrating admirably just where Spike had picked up all of his impatient habits.

Giles practically leapt upon a package from Joyce, ripping the wrapping paper to shreds with such violent ferocity that Elizabeth buried herself in Spike’s arms from fright. Well, OK, yes, she actually buried herself in his arms because she wanted to snuggle, but the ferocious Giles’ unwrapping was deemed a viable excuse by all others present.

"You shouldn’t have…" Giles stared at the small stuffed zebra before him in wonder.

"Bet you didn’t think I remembered, huh?" Joyce jabbed him playfully in the side.

Giles caught her up in his arms in response, kissing her breathless.

Spike, Elizabeth, and Dawn all blinked in unison. Dawn cast a curious glance in Spike’s direction.

"I. Have. No. Clue." Spike articulated in complete and utter bewilderment. "My parents’re freaks. ‘S the only explanation."

"And starting to get majorly wiggy with the massive PDA," Elizabeth agreed.

Spike just nodded numbly and turned to look anywhere but where Joyce and Giles were still, er… OK, he couldn’t even think about what his parents were doing without cringing. "Why don’t we just…"

"Yeah…" Elizabeth agreed, turning so that she, Spike, and Dawn now sat in a little circle on the floor, safe from the horrifying sight of grown-ups making out…over a stuffed zebra, of all things.

"You should open one," Dawn prodded Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked back and forth between the two remaining presents before her. Obligatory last-minute gift from Dad, or present from Spike. Hmm, do I save the best for last or… To hell with it! Elizabeth snatched up the small box wrapped in solid gold paper, the words ‘From Spike, to Elizabeth’ written in her boyfriend’s graceful penmanship on the card.

Spike’s arm slipped around her waist as she meticulously unwrapped the present, making sure not to rip the paper in the slightest. After almost a minute of this, he began to grow impatient, letting out an annoyed little snort by her ear.

She flashed him an unrepentant grin and unfolded the last corner, exposing the white jewelry box inside. "A box!" she exclaimed in mock-delight. "Oh, honey, it’s what I’ve always wanted!"

"And such a pretty one, too!" Dawn chimed in. "All white and rectangular!"

"Oh, thank you, Spike!" Elizabeth was trying not to break out into hysterics.

Spike banged his forehead against her shoulder several times. "Death. By. Sarcasm," he said each word between a forehead bonk.

Elizabeth giggled and patted his thigh reassuringly. "Are you all right?" she cooed softly.

"No, ‘m dead," he insisted, not moving from where his forehead had finally collapsed on her shoulder.

"But then you won’t get to see me open your gift," she pouted slightly.

He relented with a little smile, pressing a quick peck on her lips before sidling up beside her once more. "Go on, then," he said somewhat nervously. "Open it."

She did so with an eagerness that belied her previous meticulous unwrapping. An excited little breath escaped her lips when she finally held the necklace between her fingers, watching the long aquamarine and black beads shimmer in the red and green lights of the Christmas tree.

"It’s beautiful," she breathed, tracing each of the dozen strands that flowed together like the eddies of a river.

"The color reminded me of your eyes," he admitted, cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment, "when we…" He trailed off, realizing that there was a minor present. "Plus," he added with a chuckle, "now you can’t complain that you don’t have any jewelry that matches that blue dress ‘f yours."

"You actually remember which dress doesn’t have an accompanying jewelry set?" Elizabeth blinked back the tears in her eyes.

"Well, yeah," he scratched the back of his head in bewilderment, "you’ve mentioned it a bunch ‘f times."

His eyes widened in surprise then when he found his lips suddenly assaulted by her own, her arms holding him in a vise-like grip as she poured her thanks into his mouth. He blinked at the intensity of her reaction before letting his eyelids drift closed, drinking up the emotions she poured into him.

A ghost of a smile curled the edges of Dawn’s lips for a second, along with a mental ‘Aw, isn’t that sweet?’ A minute later ‘sweet’ had turned to ‘boring’, especially since the other couple in the room were still at it on the couch. That realization quickly turned ‘boring’ to ‘gross’, and she cleared her throat several times before the population of the room finally decoupled.

"Oh, that is pretty," Joyce agreed with Elizabeth’s sentiments, running her fingers over the fine beadwork. "Wherever did you find that, Will?"

"It was in one ‘f Tara’s girly catalogues," Spike admitted with an embarrassed shrug. "Was flippin’ through it while someone was complainin’ that she didn’t have any jewelry to go with her dress."

"Have I mentioned lately that you’re the most perfect boyfriend ever?" Elizabeth sighed, holding the necklace out for him so that he could fasten it behind her neck.

He brushed her hair aside with one hand, his fingers’ touches ephemeral on the back of her neck. "You can show me how much you ‘ppreciate it tonight," he whispered against her ear, fastening the clasp for her. She turned in his arms, and he smiled. "Knew it would match your eyes…"

Dawn made a gagging noise, and Giles and Joyce snickered in response. Spike glowered at his parents, while Elizabeth took it upon herself to give her sister the Look Of Death. Several juvenile gestures were exchanged in response before they all returned to the important matter of opening presents.

"It’s your turn then, Will," Giles pointed out, playing with the little toy zebra in his lap to the amusement of all the younger people.

"Turn about’s fair play, then?" Spike said with a wry smile, picking up his own gift from Elizabeth.

She gave him an encouraging smile and waited excitedly as he attempted to emulate her obsessive perfection in removing the wrapping paper. Halfway through his patience gave out and he just ripped the red and green print apart, much like his father had.

"Gasp, a…box?!" He couldn’t help but take his moment of revenge.

"Open it, asshole," Elizabeth said good-humoredly, whapping him lightly on the arm.

He gave her a mock-offended huff but did as she asked, a curious smile quirking his lips at the silver object inside.

"Here," she slipped her hands around his neck to unfasten the silver chain he always wore there. "I wanted to give you a little reminder of me that you’d always have with you." She slipped the charm onto the chain before refastening it around his neck. "And, since you never take that thing off, and I do mean NEVER, it seemed like the perfect place."

Dawn’s face reddened slightly at certain of the ‘nevers’ that popped into mind. She so didn’t need to know that Spike wore jewelry during sex.

Spike fingered the little silver dagger on its chain lovingly. "Sure ’s not some kinda subtle signal you wanna stab me?" he teased.

"Maybe a bit of warning to anyone else who doesn’t realize…" She leaned in to whisper the last word in his ear. "…Mine!"

"Yours," he whispered into her hair.

"Yes, quite lovely," Giles tried to sound patient with the young lovers. "So, is it my turn again now?"

Several pillows were thrown in his general direction in response.

* * *

"All right," Elizabeth jabbed Spike in the side right in that one spot where he was ticklish, "enough with the secrets. Where are we going?"

He let out a sound halfway between a giggle and a snort and brushed her teasing hand away. "You’ll see when we get there," he insisted.

Elizabeth pouted but slid her arm through his once more as they walked across campus. The two of them had begged off of Christmas lunch at the Giles’ since Spike claimed to have a surprise he wanted to show her. Elizabeth had been mildly curious that the ‘surprise’ in question could be achieved without easy access to his bed and had been running all sorts of scenarios through her head since.

The afternoon was surprisingly warm and sunny - for the winter in upstate New York, that is - and they’d been able to go out with a minimum of outerwear that allowed for a maximum of cuddling. Well, actually, Spike had stuck with that leather duster of his that Elizabeth had hardly ever seen him without…until she’d earned the privilege to see him in nothing at all, that is. It was a privilege she planned to take full advantage of in the near future.

Spike turned them in the direction of the gym, and Elizabeth gave him a curious look when he searched through his pockets.

"What’s up?" she asked.

"Lookin’ for the key," he explained, checking his other pocket before triumphantly removing the ring from his pocket.

"You have the key to the gym?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow in his direction. "Is this legal?"

"’ll have you know that this is important team business," Spike insisted, a rakish grin on his face, "fully in keepin’ with the trust Wesley gave me."

"Breaking into the gym on Christmas," Elizabeth tisked.

"I figured," Spike countered, opening the door for her and punching in the deactivation code for the alarm, "that given all the tension lately…"

She gave him an apologetic smile at that and patted his back affectionately.

"…that we could both stand to work off some steam," he finished, winding over to the room that was reserved for martial arts. It was eerily dark at first, the outlines of the dummies sending chills down Elizabeth’s spine. But then Spike flicked the light-switch on, and it was just the normal makeshift dojo once more.

"You’re letting me beat you up for Christmas?" Elizabeth pretended to sniff. "That’s the sweetest thing ever."

"Oh, I am so kickin’ your ass for that, pet," Spike retorted in a huff. "Or, actually…" He opened his locker and pulled out a Kendo sword. "…maybe I should whack it instead."

"Ooh," Elizabeth snatched the bound bamboo weapon from him greedily, "where’d you get this?"

"Wesley’s into it," Spike explained, "asked if I was interested. ‘Course I was, so I got myself a sword…"

Elizabeth was practically drooling over the weapon. "Spike?" she asked teasingly. "Can I play with your long, hard stick?"

He gulped and willed certain regions of his anatomy to behave at that. The bemused smile she gave him indicated all too clearly that, yes, she had done it on purpose. He gave her a little scowl and took the sword back from her. "That’s mine," he insisted.

She gave him a little pout.

He refused to waver as he returned to his locker. "This," he said, a sly grin spreading across his face, "is yours."

"You got me a weapon?" Elizabeth let out a little squeal of delight and wrapped her arms around him before snatching the second sword away. She lovingly stroked the pale bamboo branches that formed the long staff of the sword.

"Shoulda known that was the sure way to any woman’s heart," he teased. "’specially yours."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Do I get to hit things?" she asked excitedly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Let’s go murder some dummies," Spike agreed with a grin, picking up his own sword and guiding her out onto the mats.

A little smile curled the edges of her lips at his not-so-subtle teaching method of standing behind her and wrapping his arms around the sword from behind in order to teach her how to hold it properly. She cuddled back into his arms contentedly and followed his footwork, taking several controlled practice swings before zeroing in on the dummy.

Spike grinned as he watched her advance and thwack repeatedly, occasionally commenting on her form. God, he loved this woman! He’d never met anyone before who attacked things with large blunt objects as gleefully as he did. Not to mention had the snark and sarcasm to match his and even, amazingly, exceed his at times. Plus, she was funny, witty, and delightful to be with. The fact that she’d been taking the initiative in bed more and more lately, literally struggling with him for control over dominance, just made her all the more enticing. She just fit. He already couldn’t imagine what life without her would be like, a palpable jolt of pain passing through his chest at the mere thought. Who ever would’ve guessed that the exasperating little blond would’ve so completely snatched up his heart?

"I follow through with the left hand, right?" Elizabeth worried her lower lip between her teeth, focusing intently on whacking the dummy over the head.

"You center the weight on it, yeah," Spike agreed, "but you wanna guide with your right."

Elizabeth nodded and took another swing, her cheeks beginning to flush with her exertions.

As he watched her, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that this was it. Love, pure and simple. That warmth bubbling up inside of him, the way he felt at home in her arms, the way he felt like he was walking on air each time she smiled at him - this was it. She was The One, no questions, no doubts.

"I don’t suppose we can hit each other yet?" she sighed.

"Sorry, luv," he gave her an apologetic shrug, "need a coach here for that."

She nodded. "Wanna spar?" she inquired hopefully.

He couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin off of his face at that. "You’re goin’ down this time," he assured her.

She rolled her eyes and yawned. "Heard that before, mopped the ground with your sorry ass," she said disinterestedly.

He narrowed his eyes, and they shared a courteous bow before…

The only other time he felt this with her was when they were making love. The way their bodies moved in perfect time with each other, as if they were but two different manifestations of the same being. He kicked, she ducked; she punched, he dodged. They moved in time to a fast, furious beat that only the two of them could hear, dancing around each other until inevitably…

"Ha! Gotcha!" Elizabeth exclaimed in delight as Spike tumbled to the mat. She leapt on him immediately, pressing him down firmly, covering his body with hers. "Too bad there aren’t any spills around ‘cause I’ve got your cute ass here all ready to mop it up," she teased.

"Might be a spill sooner’n you think if you don’t stop that," he pointed out, feeling the warmth of her inner thighs trapping him.

"Stop what?" she asked with false innocence, grinding her pelvis down into his growing hardness.

He moaned in response, then whimpered when she pulled away. "Luv?" his voice pleaded raggedly.

"Public place," she said regretfully. "That means no wet-dream fulfillment."

He sighed and managed to nod in agreement. "Don’t know if I can walk," he commented, taking deep breaths and forcing himself to relax.

Beside him, Elizabeth lay back on the mats as well, panting heavily. "That’s a new way to win a match," she said with a smug smile. "Seduce the opponent into submission."

"You try that on anyone else an’ I’ll-" he growled.

"You’ll what?" she countered, looking over at him in his helpless state.

"Shag you so hard, you won’t be able to walk," he settled on happily.

A little thrill ran through her own spine at that. "Mmm," she murmured softly, sidling up against him. "This reminds me of our first dates, y’know?"

He gave her a curious look that obviously indicated that he didn’t.

"Not our first ‘date dates’," she corrected. "I mean all those dates where it was kinda just you trying to seduce me and me trying to pretend that I didn’t want you to."

"I seem to recall tacklin’ you onto this very mat," he agreed with a fond smile of remembrance.

"Yeah, we’d call each other names and then fight and then find some half-assed excuse to rub up against each other as much as possible and then we’d both have to go back to the dorm unsatisfied," she sighed.

"Ah, the romance," he couldn’t help but tease.

She whapped him in the shoulder. "It was sweet!" she insisted.

"I think ‘pig’ was more your sentiment at the time," he countered.

"Sweet," she repeated. "What with you being all sexy and tempting with the innuendoes and…and the really big bulge in your jeans." She licked her lips at where the object of her fascination was just beginning to settle down once more. "Sweet," she repeated.

He let out a bark of laughter. "If that’s your definition ‘f ‘sweet’, no wonder you’re the perfect woman for me," he commented.

"Hmm," she agreed lazily, reaching over to twine her fingers with his. "When did you know?" she asked after a minute of comfortable silence.

"Hmm?" he murmured contentedly.

"When did you stop thinking ‘annoying bitch’ and turn to ‘potential girlfriend’?" she clarified.

"Who said I ever stopped thinkin’ ‘annoyin’ bitch’?" He just couldn’t help it. After all, that one had been practically handed to him on a platter.

She scowled over at him.

He let out a thoughtful sigh as he contemplated the problem. "The instant you opened that sharp mouth ‘f yours," he finally decided. "Knocked me down a coupla notches in ten seconds flat. Made me wanna do all sorts ‘f naughty things to you…" He nuzzled her throat at that, wrapping his body around her.

"And you think my ideas about romance are weird," she rolled her eyes.

"Got even better after that," he reminisced, "what with you brushin’ me off all the time but just givin’ me those li’l hints that you liked it, too. Kept me right in the chase; let me know it’d be worth it in the long run."

"Do you miss it?" she asked curiously. "The chase?"

He snorted. "Not bloody likely," he retorted. "’Cause tonight," he rose over her and trailed several soft kisses down her throat, "neither ‘f us has to go back to our lonely beds, wantin’ and needin’ and dreamin’ of each other."

"What makes you think I dreamed about you?" she asked with a sly smile.

He raised one eyebrow in response.

"OK, every night," she admitted with a little blush.

His lips caught hers at that, drawing her into a passionate kiss. By the time he pulled away, she was flushed and breathless, just the way he liked her.

"Spike?" she panted slightly.

"Yeah, pet?"

"Do we have to wait until tonight?"

God, he loved this woman…

"Race you back to the house," he agreed with a grin.

She was on her feet in an instant, shoving him back to the floor behind her as she made a break for the door.

He loved her so much…if only he could find the right time to tell her…

Wow, this story's half-way done. Very exciting. Be sure to review 'cause, yeah, there's lots more to come...

Chapter Twenty-Six

Dawn had been moody all morning. The prospect of leaving the sanctuary of the Giles home and returning to the less than ideal Summers one was naturally something she was not looking forward to. All that morning she’d been alternating between making the most of what little time she had left and being miserable about the approaching deadline of her flight back to LA.

Sitting in the back seat of the car now, her head resting on her sister’s shoulder and Spike’s arm reaching around to hold both of them, she just savored this moment.

"Only two and a half more years, and you’ll be able to go away to college," Joyce pointed out encouragingly.

"Two and a half years of hell," Dawn grumbled.

"I went through the hell, too," Elizabeth reminded her. "You’ll get through it. Go out and win yourself a good scholarship and then thumb your nose at mom and dad."

Dawn couldn’t help but smile at that. "Are you coming home this summer?" she asked hesitantly.

Elizabeth bit her lip at that. She hadn’t really thought about it too much, but… "God, I hope not!" she finally decided.

An amused smile crossed Spike’s face at that, and he planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"Well, maybe when you figure out what you’re doing, I can visit you?" Dawn suggested. "Just, y’know, for a little while or something. To stave off the insanity."

A smile quirked on the edges of Elizabeth’s lips. "That’d be fun," she said, surprised to realize that she actually meant it.

She and Dawn had never really gotten along before, but this vacation had gone amazingly smoothly. It was really the first time she’d gotten to know her half-sister when she wasn’t just an extension of Elizabeth’s step-mom, and Elizabeth was stunned to find herself actually liking the girl.

"Cool," Dawn agreed. "We can hang out and go shopping and stuff."

Spike groaned at this. There had been a shopping trip two weeks before, and he had been forced to act as the workhorse for both sisters at once. He still felt the kink in his back from the aftermath of the extensive shoe store purchases.

Elizabeth and Dawn both cast him annoyed looks, and he quickly bit his tongue.

"You’ve got my e-mail, right?" Dawn asked for about the billionth time as they pulled into the airport.

"Saved on my account," Elizabeth assured her. "And on Spike’s. And in my address book. And in-"

"OK, yeah, I get the point," Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister’s antics. "But you’ll write me, huh? Tell me all the important…" she cast an approving glance Spike’s direction, "stuff that’s happening?"

"As long as you keep me updated on the Kevin situation," Elizabeth retorted sternly.

"You’ve got a deal." Dawn practically hopped out of the car, allowing Elizabeth and Spike to exit the vehicle as well.

"Do you want us to walk you to your gate?" Joyce inquired, standing beside Giles and pretending to help him lift Dawn’s bags out of the trunk.

He gave her a suspicious look when she paused and turned her attention to the young people every time she was about to pick up one of the heavy bags.

Dawn gave her a suspicious look as well. "Mom put you up to this so that I couldn’t jump flights again, didn’t she?" she accused.

Everyone looked anywhere but at her.

Dawn just rolled her eyes. "Sure, knock yourselves out," she agreed. "It’ll be really exciting what with the terminal and the seats and the Hong Kong businessmen and all…"

Spike chuckled at that and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, guiding her towards the ticketing gate. Not one to be left behind, Elizabeth slipped his other arm around her waist, resting her head against his strong shoulder.

"You can handle those, right honey?" Joyce said with an evil little smile before rushing off after the children.

Giles looked down at the huge bags Dawn had managed to accumulate during her stay and turned his eyes heavenwards. Whatever had he done to deserve this?

"Hmm…" A concerned frown crossed Spike’s face. "Don’t have enough arms to escort all these beautiful women…"

Dawn and Elizabeth blushed and giggled, and Joyce merely rolled her eyes at her son’s flirtation. "I’ve got my Rupert," she assured him, grudgingly taking up one of Dawn’s bags so that she could walk beside her husband.

"It’s about bloody time," he commented on his decreased load good-naturedly.

Joyce gave him an evil grin that indicated she had known about his hardship all along.

"So, sweetness," Spike gave Dawn a playful squeeze, "when you get home and encounter the big bad parents-"

"I’ll be sure to inform them that you and Elizabeth are having kinky monkey sex every night and kept me up the whole vacation," Dawn teased. Her grin widened when mortified expressions crossed the bleached couple’s faces at the thought that she’d heard them.

"Y-Y-You… I mean…" Elizabeth stammered, embarrassed beyond belief. She tried to bury her face in Spike’s shoulder, only to realize that he’d beaten her to it. "Hey," she protested, "I’m trying to hide my head in shame here…"

"More shame. Beat you to it," Spike’s muffled voice sounded from the soft material of her sweater.

"No way," she insisted. "She’s my sister. I have way more shame than you do!"

"’ve been corruptin’ the innocent," Spike retorted. "That triples my shame."

"Your very existence corrupts the innocent," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Plus, I caught you that one night in the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers," Dawn pointed out.

"You saw me?!" Spike’s face flushed deep red.

"You own boxers?!" Elizabeth was equally startled.

Dawn’s face scrunched up at the implications of this last statement. "Ew! So didn’t need to know that!"

Elizabeth’s face turned red again. "Now who’s corrupting my sister?" she asked Spike triumphantly.

"He had hickeys all down his back leading straight to his-" Dawn provided.

"Dawn!" Twin voices screamed in horror.

"Just kidding," Dawn said with an amused smile. "You two are so easy to embarrass. It’s, like, the most fun thing ever."

"So there weren’t bite marks?" Elizabeth asked hopefully.

"No bite marks, no loud sex," Dawn assured them.

"Ha!" Spike said triumphantly. "You haven’t warped her in the slightest then. Just me with my late night snackin’."

"You have a cute butt," Dawn couldn’t help herself.

Sure enough, the telltale red flush covered his cheeks once more, and his head returned to the shelter of Elizabeth’s shoulder.

"How horrified should we be?" Giles asked Joyce curiously from where they had sat across from the three bickering youngsters.

"Scarred for life," Joyce decided with a shake of her head.

"Quite," Giles agreed, trying to bury himself into the dull, superficial magazine he’d picked up as the only means of distraction.

Joyce looked over his shoulder at it, equally desperate not to hear about her son’s various sexual attributes. "Oh, look," she tried to drum up some enthusiasm, " ‘who’s hot and who’s not’…"

Together, Joyce and Giles shuddered.

"Stop terrorizing my boyfriend," Elizabeth scolded Dawn, completely oblivious to the horror she was inflicting upon the poor, innocent parents as she patted Spike’s head reassuringly. "That’s my job."

Spike let out an angry breath against her throat at that, but all it really managed to do was tickle her.

"So," Elizabeth began curiously, ignoring Spike’s reaction, "what are you going to tell mom and dad?"

"Willow and Tara are the most hospitable roommates ever," Dawn answered with a sly grin, obviously enjoying being part of the conspiracy. "And the professors of yours that invited us over for Christmas dinner that once were so nice…"

"Don’t forget ‘rakishly handsome’," Giles provided, deciding that the other conversation was safe enough to participate in now.

Spike gave his father a skeptical look and then snorted in amusement. "Right…" he rolled his eyes.

Giles merely huffed in annoyance.

"I think your father’s very handsome," Joyce countered with a mischievous smile. "Why, I see that sexy pout and I just wanna-"

"Mom!" Spike cried out in abject horror.

"Turnabout’s fair play," she said with a falsely sweet smile, giving him a little pat on the knee.

"Bloody women’ll be the death of me…" Spike groused, hiding in Elizabeth’s arms once more.

"Oh, dear," Giles was still puffed up with manly pride from Joyce’s defense, "I do hope he’s not broken?"

"I’ll fix him up tonight," Elizabeth assured him, placing a gentle kiss in those soft, peroxide-blond curls.

Spike murmured at the affectionate touch, and his mortified hiding turned more into contented snuggling.

"You people are all crazy," Dawn decided with a wistful sigh. "Boy, am I going to miss this place…"

"Oh, there, there, dear," Joyce gave her a motherly hug. "You can come back to visit soon. And feel free to call whenever you want. I’m pretty much sitting in that house all by myself while William’s in school, and I need something besides grading papers to keep me company."

"I’ll be sure to call," Dawn promised, hugging her back. "You’re, like, the greatest teacher ever."

"And this from someone who’s never even taken a class from me," Joyce was obviously pleased.

"You are the greatest teacher ever," Elizabeth provided in response to that.

A delighted flush reddened the older woman’s cheeks. "The talent of my students helps," she pointed out.

A comfortable silence settled over the group at that as they absentmindedly listened to the flights being announced.

"At least I’ll be back in school so I won’t have to be at home most of the time," Dawn finally sighed as the deadline for her own departure drew near.

"Burying yourself in schoolwork is an excellent way to ignore obnoxious, pushy parents," Giles provided. "And once you get to college, they really can’t control your life anymore."

Elizabeth bit her lip slightly at that, but Spike quickly caught it between his teeth, drawing her into a slow, sensual kiss. Oh yeah, that’s how I’m not letting dad control my life anymore… She remembered with a satisfied sigh.

"Flight 185 for LAX now boarding. Will rows 22 and higher please board at this time? Repeat, rows 22 and higher." A nasal voice twanged over the loudspeakers.

Dawn sighed and stood up, fidgeting slightly as she waited for her row to be called. "What are the chances mom’s going to kill me for coming here?" she asked Elizabeth nervously.

"At least one good yell," Elizabeth decided after a moment’s thought, brushing Spike’s lips in the direction of her throat. "But no killing since it all worked out all right. Maybe a bit of a grounding, though." She considered it some more. "Yup, definitely a grounding."

Dawn sighed. "Adopt me," she only half-joked to Joyce as her row was called.

"You’ll be fine," Joyce assured her, giving her a good-bye hug.

"And if you’re not," Giles agreed, giving her a quick squeeze as well, "we’ll be right down to inflict some vengeance on those parents of yours."

"Thanks," Dawn said, sniffling slightly. She turned to Spike and was amazed when she got a sweet kiss on the forehead. Her face flushed bright red at the feel of the strong, muscular body that held her, and she abruptly remembered just why she’d had that crush on him in the first place.

"Ha!" Spike said triumphantly. "Finally embarrassed her for once."

Dawn managed an eye roll at that, although she was still grinning idiotically from the kiss. "I’m so going to get you back for that," she informed him matter-of-factly.

"’ll look forward to it," Spike agreed with a grin. "Bye, Bit."

"Bye, gorgeous," she countered with a sly smile.

Spike’s face flushed once more. "Weren’t s’posed to get me back right now," he grumbled good-naturedly.

Dawn laughed and turned to her sister. "Y’know, you’re actually pretty cool. Not the stuck-up cheerleader I thought you were," Dawn admitted reluctantly.

"And you’re not the whiny, tattletale brat," Elizabeth agreed.

Dawn rolled her eyes at that, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes in response to the eye roll. They shared a giggle and then a quick hug before Dawn snatched up her bags.

"I’ll e-mail you as soon as I get home," Dawn promised. "Tell you all about what mom does to me."

"I’ll be waiting," Elizabeth assured her.

"Bye, Elizabeth! Bye, Spike! Bye, Joyce! Bye, Rupert!" Dawn couldn’t help but tease with that last one. And, with a final wave, she vanished into the aircraft…

* * *

"Got another e-mail from Dawn today," Elizabeth commented, lying on her stomach across Spike’s large bed and moaning softly at the feel of his hands on her bare back.

"Oh?" he inquired curiously, rubbing the massage oil deep into the knot right below her left shoulder blade. "What’s she up to, then?"

"Mmm…" Elizabeth sighed in appreciation at his hands’ motions before answering. "Back in school. Hates her science teacher. Says she knows more than the teacher does."

"Yeah, I seem to recall that happenin’ a lot back in high school," Spike agreed, moving his hands lower so that he now kneaded her lower back.

"She seems pretty cheerful, though," Elizabeth commented. "Kinda blah about her mom and our dad getting divorced, but otherwise cool. I think she just wants to get out of there fast."

"Unfortunately, she’s still got half ‘f high school to get through," Spike pointed out.

Elizabeth sighed. "She says she wants to graduate early. Given the general crappiness of Sunnydale High, she can probably pull it off."

"Good for her, then," Spike managed a proud smile for the girl that inspired such affectionate, brotherly feelings in him.

"She wants to come visit this summer," Elizabeth commented, playing with the sheets idly.

"Does she now?" Spike inquired curiously. "You’re not goin’ back home this summer, then?"

Elizabeth rolled onto her back at that so that she could look at him while they discussed this. He eagerly slipped into her arms, holding her body close.

"Not if I’ve got someplace better to be, no," she said softly. Absentmindedly, her fingers found the silver chain around his neck and began fiddling with the dagger charm she’d put there.

"But no plans?" he pressed, looking deep into her hazel eyes.

"I hadn’t really thought about it much," she replied coyly. "Wanna help me make plans?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Wanna shag non-stop all summer?" he teased right back.

"Mmm, good plan," she decided, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Her hands slid up into his hair as she rolled beneath him, letting out contented little murmurs when his strong arms wrapped tightly around her, closing that unbearable distance between them…

"Wanna stay here?" he whispered against her ear after they had back pulled away for breath on some telepathic signal. "Or maybe get an apartment? We could travel, too, I s’pose…"

"Mmm, so much Spike, so little time," Elizabeth mock-lamented. "And," she added with a wry grin, "did you just ask me to move in with you?"

He blushed slightly. "Well, er…yeah," he admitted a bit nervously. "If you want to, I mean. If you’re ready. ‘Cause if you’re not, I-"

She cut him off with a fingertip to his lips. "You, me, cozy one bedroom," she practically purred. "Sounds wonderful…"

He grinned at that. "Got a one-bedroom back at the dorm," he pointed out.

"Are you asking me to move in with you now?" she joked lightly.

"Practically do already," he pointed out. "It’d just save you from havin’ to run down the hall every mornin’ to change for class."

"And leave Willow all alone in our room?" Elizabeth couldn’t help but tease. "I don’t know…"

"Oh, please," Spike rolled his eyes. "She and Tara just love havin’ that place to themselves, an’ you know it. Hell, what with all ‘f Tara’s roommates, I don’t know how they managed to do anythin’ together before you and I hooked up."

Elizabeth relented with a delighted smile. "I’d love to move in with you," she informed him with a quick kiss. "On one condition." She held up a finger menacingly.

"Uh-oh." He tried to decipher the hidden emotion in her eyes, but for once she was unreadable. "All right, I give in, kitten. What is it?"

"You have got to get a bigger bed," she instructed. "’Cause this," she stretched out beneath him, savoring the vast space they had for maneuvering, "is nice. And a girl gets spoiled, y’know."

"Think that can be arranged," Spike agreed with a chuckle. "Just have to pull a few strings with a certain RA…"

"Who happens to be getting an entire huge room to herself for her own sexcapades," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Hmm, we should call her tomorrow an’ get everything arranged," he decided.

"Worry about that tomorrow," Elizabeth agreed, spreading her thighs so that he slipped in between them. "Right now, I want you to remind me why I’m agreeing to move in with you."

"My pleasure," he trilled in a husky voice before his lips crashed down over hers once more.

Her body molded to his instinctively, taking him within the cradle of her hips and arms and holding him tightly. Her lips continued to do battle with his, as their limbs slowly began to move in time together, just rocking at first, getting the feel for one another once more.

One of Spike’s hands slipped in between their bodies, finding a small rounded breast and stroking it gently. He loved the feel of the soft flesh’s weight in his palm. She fit his hands so perfectly, like her body was made just for him, like she was made just for him…

Elizabeth groaned when his mouth enclosed her other milky-white mound. Her hands flew over his body, tracing the strong muscles of his shoulders before rediscovering all the sleek lines of his back. She learned him over and over again, caressing gently all the places that made him quiver.

He flattened his tongue and licked the rough surface over her hardened bud as rapidly as he could, eliciting a quick gasp of his name in response. His thumb attended to her other breast, flicking that nipple in perfect counterpoint to his tongue’s actions, drawing out her pleasure in every way he could.

Elizabeth began thrashing beneath him in response. He had rather trickily managed to capture her legs beneath his so she couldn’t clutch onto him that way, and her hands were running up and down his body frantically in response, trying to give him back just a little bit of the pleasure he was giving her.

His hands moved to still her, however. This one time he just wanted to show her, to give her everything… "Hush, luv," he soothed. He let out a hot stream of air against the wet skin of her breast.

Gooseflesh rose in response, and she gasped in amazement at the sensation.

"That’s right, pet. Just let me make you feel good," he whispered in a deep, low timbre. Her body relaxed under his hypnotic tones, and he took the opportunity to trail short, wet kisses down her stomach. His tongue dipped playfully into her navel, and he teased her for a while before exploring the soft outlines of her stomach muscles.

Elizabeth couldn’t decide whether she was in heaven or hell. The things he was doing to her were absolutely amazing, but she wanted so much more, and that seemed to be out of her grasp at the moment. His fervent promise bound her to the bed more powerfully than any chains or ropes could’ve, and she found herself completely at his mercy. It was agony to wait for her sweet release, but she knew her captor was benevolent and wouldn’t make her wait too long…

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Spike whispered against her heated skin, his voice husky with desire. "Feels like ‘m on fire, achin’, burnin’. And ‘s never enough. I never grow tired of feelin’ you beneath me, surroundin’ me, your scent… Oh god…"

Overcome by his own words, he ground his hips down into the mattress, desperate to release just a fraction of the pressure there.

"Spike…" she whispered softly, equally overcome by the need to be with him. "C’mere, pet…" She held out a hand to him.

His fingers instantly clasped with hers, and he slid back up her body. Their lips met again with renewed intensity as their fingers intertwined, linked, joined…

"Now, Spike," she murmured against the heat of his lips, her eyelids heavy with her desire for him. "Now…"

He was inside her almost instantly in response, their bodies melding together into one until neither could tell where one began and the other ended. They moved together to a slow, lazy rhythm, holding on to their union for as long as they could manage.

Fingers ghosted over bare skin, lips tasted delicate flesh, limbs tangled together, stroking, caressing, loving…

"’Lizabeth," Spike gasped for breath, looking deep into her eyes. "Look at me."

Lazy sloe eyes fluttered open, widening at the intensity of the emotions they perceived in his own cerulean depths.

"You don’t know what you do to me," he whispered raggedly in response, never once breaking eye contact as he pushed himself to his physical limits, plunging even deeper within her.

An amazed "oh!" escaped her lips. God, he’d never been so deep. She’d never taken him this far inside before. It had never felt this close, this intimate, this…perfect.

"Never been like this for me before," he continued to babble sweet nonsense to her. "No one’s ever… Oh god, ‘Lizabeth…"

"Spike…" she moaned in agreement as she felt herself reach the peak of ecstasy.

They hovered there, eyes still locked, bodies moving as one. It seemed as if that moment stretched out for eternity while at the same time the world shrunk down so that it only encompassed the two of them.

And then…

Blinding flashes of light, nerves so sensitive that neither had even realized that they existed before flaring to life with sudden pleasure, heat exploding, bodies falling, air rushing from their lungs, waves crashing, everything, everything…

And yet nothing but the two of them.

And, in that moment, that perfect moment, the time was finally right.

"I love you, Elizabeth," Spike’s voice seemed a cacophony, echoing through her skull pleasurably as if he were in her mind itself. "God, I love you so much…"

And, thus, we come to the end of the second section of this story. (Yes, I do know it was a short one.) The third and longest section will begin next time where we'll meet the few remaining characters that haven't shown up yet and...yeah. Things will happen. (How's that for a vague hint? ~_^) So, review and...yeah. Just review. ^_^

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Does the bus ever come on time?" Elizabeth wondered, twirling her root-beer Tootsie Roll Pop between her lips as she sat up on the counter.

Spike gave her a dirty look. There was no doubt in his mind that she was doing all those things with her tongue for the sole purpose of driving him steadily insane.

She gave him an unrepentant grin and a little wink in response before slurping loudly as she reached the chewy center.

"It did when you took it," Willow pointed out, checking her watch. "My theory - it only comes on time when I’m late."

"It’s a massive conspiracy," Tara giggled. "The whole world’s out to get you."

"And, technically, you’re not paranoid if they are actually out to get you," Oz added in his usual dry tone.

"Just out of curiosity," Elizabeth turned to Willow, "when is Xand getting back?"

"Tomorrow afternoon supposedly," Willow said slightly bitterly, "since someone doesn’t have any classes on Monday this semester…"

"We’ll be forced to tear him limb from limb when he shows up," Oz commented matter-of-factly.

Tara cast a suspicious look in his direction and leaned over to whisper in Willow’s ear. "He was joking, right?"

Willow frowned and blinked. "Presumably," she shrugged. It was always hard to tell with Oz.

"Ooh, I see something!" Elizabeth pointed with the white stick of her sucker excitedly. "It looks like…"

Spike leaned out in the street to see further. "That’s it," he confirmed. "About bloody time."

Elizabeth held out a hand to him and pulled him into her arms, clasping her hands comfortably in the small of his leather-clad back. "Grumpy," she accused, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

His mood lightened almost immediately. "Vixen," he countered.

The bus pulled to a halt at the curb, and they reluctantly turned to it to watch the passengers alight. Elizabeth actually turned her attention more towards Spike since she’d need the recognition in his eyes to identify…

"Cordy!" Willow screeched in delight, practically launching herself at a tall brunette.

"Wills!" Cordelia exclaimed in an equally excited manner, accepting and returning the bear hug offered her.

"How was Rome?" Willow asked enthusiastically, snatching the bag from Cordelia’s shoulder.

"Amazing," Cordelia exclaimed, taking in the sea of friendly faces that surrounded her. "Hey, Tara," she said with a wide grin. "You’re treating my Willow right, huh?"

"There was a nasty incident where I ate her entire bag of peanut M&M’s," Tara admittedly gravely. "It was declared cruel and unusual punishment."

Cordelia laughed before leaning in and giving Oz a quick kiss on the cheek. "Are the dingoes still eating my baby?" she teased.

"Tonight," he agreed. "We’re heading out there to dinner."

"Oh, one more day of freedom from dorm food. Joy," Cordelia agreed with a roll of her eyes. As a result her eyes landed directly on… "Hello, handsome," she practically purred at Spike, holding out her hand to him.

He brushed his lips across her knuckles obligingly, his electric blue eyes never leaving her face. "Welcome back, my raven-haired beauty," he flirted back shamelessly.

Cordelia smiled at that. "You look good," she commented. "Not so much with the drunken lout."

He chuckled. "Got myself fixed up while you were away." His fingers tangled with those of Elizabeth.

Cordelia’s attention turned to the new girl for the first time. "I’m guessing you’re Elizabeth then?" she inquired.

"That’s me," Elizabeth agreed, slipping her hand from Spike’s and offering it to Cordelia. "And, duh, you’re Cordelia." She rolled her eyes.

Cordelia laughed at that. "Call me Cordy," she insisted.

"Cordy, right," Elizabeth agreed.

Cordelia watched Spike’s arm slip around Elizabeth’s waist with a little smile. "I’ve heard all about you," she said brightly. "Most of it good, even."

Elizabeth chuckled at that, sparing a brief smile for Spike. "I can’t imagine who you’ve been talking to, then," she joked.

"Yeah, well, I’m not stuck living next to Spike here, so hopefully I won’t be able to hear all the racket," Cordelia couldn’t help but ride the other girl a little.

Elizabeth’s face reddened, but she returned just as teasingly, "That won’t do you much good, I’m afraid. We can be heard all the way down the hall."

Spike blushed and Cordy grinned. "You’re hopelessly, permanently outnumbered," she informed the peroxide blond, taking Elizabeth’s free arm as they walked out to the van.

"Just as things should be," Elizabeth teased, nuzzling Spike’s shoulder affectionately.

He merely sighed, resigned to his not-so-unpleasant fate, and followed the group outside.

"So," Cordy asked, "Blue Club, I take it?"

"I’m buying," Willow agreed, "but only if you agree to tell us every last detail about your trip."

"Deal," Cordy agreed with a smile…

* * *

"Mmm," Elizabeth practically purred, burying her face deep in Spike’s chest and swaying slowly to the music.

The club was full tonight as the entire campus celebrated their last night of freedom before classes began tomorrow. As a result, it was a bit difficult to clearly hear any of the music, but they managed to sway to the slow, steady beat just fine. Especially since their dancing looked a lot like making out - something they were both experts at by this point.

"You ever wish that time would just stop?" Spike had been feeling in a rather poetic mood all evening, and the words slipped from his lips with melodic grace.

"All the time," she agreed, looking up at him. Her nose scrunched up then and she stuck out her tongue. "Especially since I have calculus first thing tomorrow morning."

An amused chortle of laughter escaped his lips at that. "You ever need a tutor…" he began.

"I’ll go straight to Jonathan," she teased back.

"Christ, you’re impossible, luv," he shook his head.

"That’s why you love me," she agreed with a little smile.

He looked down at her with a shy smile of his own at that. "Yeah…" he agreed, his voice full of emotion.

"Spike…" she whispered, leaning forward to steal a kiss from those soft, sweet lips of his.

It seemed as though time had stopped then. The world around them was still as their lips slowly grew bolder. The kiss was short and neat, but it felt like everything else had frozen during it.

And then Elizabeth heard the applause and realized that the world actually had stopped because the song on stage had come to an end. She blushed a bit at the romantic notions that had been flitting about in her head. Although, admittedly, they were hard to ignore after Spike’s confession of devotion…

He smiled a Cheshire smile at her in response, the glint in his eyes indicating that he knew exactly what she was thinking. One finger tipped with the black nail-polish she so teased him about reached up and brushed a silky lock of her honey-blond hair back from her face. She leaned into the touch, enjoying his ephemeral caresses just as much as his more solid ones.

"Set’s done," he commented lazily. "We’ll be eatin’ soon."

She let out a disappointed little pout.

"Now, now, luv," he chuckled softly, "we’ll need the energy tonight. Not to mention, ‘d hate to see those luscious curves ‘f yours thin out due to starvation…"

She glanced nervously down at herself at that. "You don’t think I need to go on a diet?" she inquired.

He rolled his eyes. "You’re the most gorgeous, desirable woman ‘ve ever laid eyes on," he replied in a low, husky voice. "There’s nothin’ you could do to make yourself more perfect. Fit against me right like we were made off of the same mold, you do." His lips brushed her forehead softly. "So beautiful…" he whispered.

"Wow," she giggled slightly. "You’ve really got the answer to ‘does this outfit make me look fat?’ down pat, don’t you?"

"’m just tellin’ the truth," he replied with a seductive smile. "You make it easy, luv."

"Mmm…" She pulled him in by the lapels of his black leather duster and proceeded to kiss him breathless. "Have I mentioned lately how wonderful you are?" she asked with a coquettish smile.

"Not recently enough," he leaned into her expectantly.

"Oh," she said in mock-apology. "It’s tough to be you then." With a mischievous wink, she released him and sashayed away, looking back over her shoulder at him playfully.

Evil little minx… He sighed and followed after her. God, he loved this woman!

"Hey, Spike," Cordy said cheerfully when he finally sat down at their table, completing the group. "You’re trying out for the spring musical, right?"

Spike practically choked on his water at the outrageous suggestion. "I bloody well am not!" he insisted fiercely.

Elizabeth chuckled and patted him on the thigh. "Oh, c’mon, it’d be great. I can just see you up there on stage, singing and dancing."

He make annoyed gurgling noises into his straw.

"And, just think!" she continued, on a role now. "You can even wear tights!"

"In front of the whole school," Tara agreed, giggling at the image in her head.

Spike turned to Oz. "Help," he said simply.

"I’m already in a band. Hence, I’m in the clear. Sorry, man."

Spike groaned and rolled his eyes heavenwards. "Help?" he inquired hopefully.

Everyone laughed at his joke.

"You should try out," Cordy suggested to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth gulped in response. "Talking in front of many people - not my thing," she insisted.

Cordy pouted in response. "You do realize that I haven’t gotten a single person in our house in a play yet? It’s doing terrible things to my reputation!"

"And I can’t be guilted into things, either," Elizabeth countered. "Nice try, though."

"You people are all too damn stubborn," Cordy let out a sigh. "So," she turned to her other favorite topic - gossip - with lightning-quick speed, "how long have you and Spike been…y’know…" She winked.

Elizabeth paused to consider her answer for a minute. " ‘Y’know’," she quoted, repeating the wink and everything, "for almost three months now. But, before that…"

"You should have seen it," Tara said with a wistful smile. "They got into shouting matches almost every day."

"It was so romantic…" Willow giggled in agreement.

Spike cast her an annoyed look. "Worked, dinnit?" he retorted.

"It was romantic," Elizabeth insisted, stepping up to her boyfriend’s defense. She slipped her arm through his appreciatively. "He even let me beat him up for Christmas. It was so sweet…"

Cordy blinked in confusion.

"Tae Kwon-Do," Elizabeth explained off of the odd look.

"She completely kicks my ass every time," Spike agreed dreamily.

"Oh. My. God." Cordy’s eyes widened. "There’s two of them! They’re both crazy, beating people up for fun. It’s like a match made in hell by some deluded little troll who’s watched way too many martial arts movies."

" ‘Deluded little troll’?" Elizabeth repeated in disbelief.

"And I missed it?" Cordy broke out into sudden lamentation. "Dammit, Wills! You promised me nothing entertaining would happen while I was abroad!"

"And you still are," Tara giggled.

Willow giggled as well.

Everyone else looked at them like they were crazy.

"A broad," Tara clarified. "Get it? A woman’s a broad…"

Three groans of agony and a slight shudder from Oz followed the realization.

"So, are you two as sickeningly perfect for each other as these two are?" Cordy gestured back to Willow and Tara who were both still incredibly amused with Tara’s joke.

"Someone’s bitter," Spike sing-songed in response.

"Oh, puh-lease," Cordy batted one hand in the air sarcastically. "I just thought I’d warn you since, y’know, Hell Semester coming up and all."

" ‘Hell Semester’?" Elizabeth repeated curiously.

"You mean you guys haven’t told her yet?" Cordy looked around at the other upperclassmen in amazement.

"Well, we were kinda trying to dispel that rumor…" Willow began.

"Rumor?" Cordy batted one hand in the air dismissively. "It’s the undeniable truth."

"What is?" Elizabeth was getting curious now. She nudged Spike in the side, trying to get an answer.

Cordy merely rolled her eyes at her dorm-mates. "Hell Semester," she explained, "is the period between Christmas vacation and Spring Break. It is so called," she adopted a pompous, professorial imitation that had Elizabeth smiling, "because everyone goes steadily more crazy throughout it. What with the gloomy winter weather and everyone being cramped together…" She trailed off before adopting a hushed, conspiratorial tone like one would while telling ghost stories to little kids. "Things start to get edgy. It starts off small. The occasional argument here and there. But then it escalates until… Bam!" Her hands clapped right in front of Elizabeth’s face, startling her. "Internal house combustion," she said with an amused smile. "Expect all-out bathroom wars, loud arguments, and plenty of broken hearts."

Elizabeth chuckled slightly. It was a good thing Cordy was into theater because she definitely had a sense of the dramatic. "Very funny. You almost had me going there for a second."

"It’s true," Cordy insisted. "Everyone gets all hyper stressed out because Spring Break is so short and then we’ve got a whole other two months after that. Depression, anxiety, and disaster follow."

Elizabeth glanced around the table for confirmation.

"It gets intense sometimes," Willow finally conceded, "but not always. Cordy’s exaggerating. As usual."

"Exaggerating?" Cordelia teased. "Why, at this very moment, the forces of the universe itself are working against us, manufacturing disaster so great and profound that we will be helpless to stop it. It will come for you, in the moments when you least expect it and-Snap!" Her fingers snapped right in front of Spike’s face.

He snorted and rolled his eyes at her.

Cordy pouted. "You’re no fun," she said with a dramatic sigh.

Elizabeth was highly entertained, however. "Evil forces working against us, huh?" she grinned. "Do they slip right out of the woodwork?"

"Oh yeah," Cordelia agreed. "You never see them coming. They work in strange and mysterious ways."

"Right now?" Elizabeth cast a playful furtive glance around.

"Right now," Cordy chuckled.

As if on cue, a thin waif-like girl with short dirty blond hair and eyes heavily ringed with make-up approached the table. "Oz," she said with a coy swing of her hips.

"Hey," Oz nodded in response. "You playing tonight?"

"Nope, just hanging," she answered with a mysterious smile.

"Guys," Oz introduced, "this is Veruca. She’s the lead singer of Shy." He turned back to the young woman. "These are my friends from the dorm."

Veruca nodded absentmindedly, her gaze passing over them disinterestedly before returning to Oz. "Is Devon here?" she inquired. "’Cause Silent Scream’s having difficulty setting up their amps backstage."

"Devon’s not back from break yet," Oz provided. "Dean stood in for him today."

Veruca bit her lip. "Wanna come help then?" she requested. "Between the two of us…"

"Yeah, sure," Oz agreed, getting up. "Duty calls," he told the Westing House group with a straight face before vanishing into the crowd.

Those at the table brushed off the incident as insignificant.

"So, disaster’s lurking in the rafters?" Elizabeth returned to joking with Cordy.

"You don’t even see it coming," the other girl giggled…

* * *

"Where’s Jonathan?" Elizabeth moaned in complaint. "This has to be some higher form of mathematics that he can solve…"

Spike grimaced as well and their predicament. "What if we moved the desk out into the hallway first?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Do you have any idea how heavy that thing is?" Elizabeth complained.

"If we took all ‘f the books outta the shelves first and put ‘em over on the bed…" he trailed off, still contemplating the problem.

"Are you two done moving furniture yet?" Anya’s head popped out of her door at the extended quiet interval. "I’m trying to finish my econ problem set."

Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. "How can you already have a problem set?" she wondered. "Classes haven’t even started yet."

"The professor foolishly posted all the problem sets up on the web," Anya explained, frowning at the table, chairs, and mattress that still cluttered up the hallway. "Now I can finish next week’s a week early so that Xander and I have optimal time for orgasms next weekend." Cheerfully, she bounced over to where Spike was gravely examining the dilemma.

"You’re way too cheerful, Anyanka," he felt obliged to make some sort of comment.

"Xander’s coming back tomorrow," Anya responded, too excited to even bother to pointlessly correct the name. "I haven’t seen him for far, far too long."

"You two kept in touch over break?" Elizabeth inquired, sitting herself down on the table while Spike pretended to solve their little problem.

"We called each other every night," Anya agreed with a happy grin, playing with one of her blond curls in a way that looked decidedly impish.

"You make the phone sex comment an’ I’ll rip out your spleen," Spike threatened jokingly.

Anya rolled her eyes and leaned in close to Elizabeth. "Have you ever tried it?" she whispered.

Elizabeth shook her head.

"You should," Anya informed her with a wink. "Especially given Spike’s sexy accent…"

A conspiratorial smile slipped across Elizabeth’s lips as well. "Thanks for the tip," she agreed with a giggle.

"I know you’re talkin’ ‘bout sex over there," Spike cut them off with a nasty scowl.

Elizabeth sighed and walked over to him. "Any solutions?" she inquired.

"We could always live on the ceiling," he half-teased.

Anya rolled her eyes and peered into the cluttered dorm room. "Just back the dresser and the desk against the beds," she suggested. "That way you increase the limited amount of wall space. You divide the room up into two smaller sections, true, but it has the added benefit of making the bed not visible from the door so if anyone barges in they won’t catch you naked."

Elizabeth and Spike’s jaws both dropped and they looked at Anya like she was a godsend.

"That’s…brilliant!" Spike exclaimed, eyes wide.

"That works, doesn’t it?" Elizabeth blinked. "That actually works!"

"Quick, help me move the dresser," Spike requested, setting Anya’s plan in motion.

"Oh no, you don’t," Anya held her hands up in front of herself defensively. "I come up with the brilliant plan, you move the furniture."

"Fair enough," Elizabeth agreed, rushing over to help Spike.

Together they got the dresser turned so that it faced the door. After that, the second bed-frame slipped easily into place. Anya watched in satisfaction as the desk moved to block the view of the two beds on the far side of the room.

"See? I told you it would work," Anya said triumphantly.

Elizabeth and Spike stepped back to study the effect.

"Brilliant…" Spike repeated, still in awe.

"Nice," Elizabeth agreed.

"You can thank me by moving the rest of furniture back inside so I can actually do my problem set," Anya said with an amused smile on her face before stalking back to her room.

Spike and Elizabeth hurried to move the table and chairs back in before carrying the second mattress into the room together. It fell into place with a final ‘thwump’.

"Whattaya think, luv?" he inquired, studying the two beds that now lay side by side. "Big enough for you?"

"Mmm, it’ll do," she agreed. "Think we should latch them together just in case?"

"Given the exuberance of our nightly activities ‘m thinkin’ that’s a good idea," he agreed with a little chuckle.

"Here," she said, taking one of the cords they’d acquired for this purpose, "I’ll fasten the side by the window. You take this one."

They worked in silence for a while, only interrupted by the occasional swearword. However, Elizabeth’s final test of bouncing up and down a couple of times where the two beds were tied together succeeded admirably, and she fell back down onto their new double-sized bed happily.

"How’s it feel?" Spike asked curiously, crawling up beside her.

"Mmm…nice…" she murmured contentedly, rolling over so that she was in his arms once more. "Kinda crowds the rest of the room, though," she pointed out. "You’re sure you don’t mind?"

He chuckled. "’d rather spend all my time here, anyway," he countered reasonably enough. He bent down to kiss her, and things quickly progressed the way that they always did.

"Mmf, Spike!" She batted him aside when he rolled atop her. "You closed the door, right?"

He groaned in irritation. "Whasit matter?" he retorted petulantly. "No one can see us anyway." He gestured to the high back of the dresser and desk that now stood between them and the door. "’S a bloody brilliant plan," he repeated once more before bending over to kiss her again.

She pulled back reluctantly after a few more ardent kisses. "Brilliant, yes," she agreed. "But there’s no way I’m having sex with you while the door’s wide open."

With a resigned sigh, Spike left their new makeshift bedroom to properly close the door. "Can’t see a soddin’ thing," he confirmed.

"Good to know," Elizabeth agreed, smiling when he once again returned to her. "Now…come to bed…"

More is on its way soon. So review, review, review... ~_^

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Knew ‘d find you here," Spike said with a satisfied smirk as he sat on the stool beside her.

Elizabeth snorted and continued to mix a deep midnight blue on her pallet. "Yeah, ‘cause I’m so hard to find…" she teased sarcastically.

"Weren’t in the bed," Spike joked back, "and, believe me, I checked very thoroughly…" He gave her a lascivious little smirk.

She jutted out her lower lip playfully. "Now you make me feel bad that I missed it," she pouted.

He chuckled and watched a rich shade of violet darken the paint before her brush snatched it up and stroked it across the pale canvas. "How’d classes go?" he asked curiously, watching the landscape unfold before him.

She scrunched up her nose. "Calculus is evil," she decided. "Class is bad enough. Do we really have to have problem sessions as well?"

"Sometimes you can get the TA to do your homework for you," Spike pointed out. "Try that."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Not my TA," she sighed. "He doesn’t even speak English."

"Chinese?" he inquired curiously.

"German," she sighed.

"At least that’s remotely close to English," he commented.

"Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?" she complained. Several more dark strokes, and the murky darkness became the outline of a shadowed tree. "What about you?" she inquired.

"Skipped Comparative Lit. Had a quiz in World History, so I went to that. Never take a class from Hinckley," he advised with a shudder.

"Wasn’t planning to," she agreed. "Why? What’s wrong with him?"

"Can’t seem to keep anythin’ straight in his head. The man’s brilliant, but he delivers the most confusin’ lectures…" Spike trailed off. "That’s the lake behind my house," he noticed as the silver ripples in the water became apparent.

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed with a little blush. "I like it there."

"Like it there, too, kitten," he agreed with a delighted little smile.

"I figured it was a good addition to the ‘Places That Have Changed My Life’ theme," she commented before reaching in carefully with a tiny brush and adding white tips to the waves.

"Life changin’ experience, huh?" he whispered seductively, leaning in so close to her ear that she could feel his warm breath tingle her sensitive skin there.

She batted him away with her elbow. "I’m trying to paint here," she pointed out.

"I don’t mind," he countered unreasonably, nibbling gently at her ear.

"Don’t make me paint your tongue blue," she threatened, eyes narrowed menacingly and paintbrush wavering in a threatening manner.

He chuckled and ducked her attack. "Enough, luv," he laughed, hands raised defensively. "I surrender."

She just rolled her eyes and returned to her painting, a smile curling at the edges of her lips. "So, Mister Giles," she asked coyly, "what are you planning to do this fine Friday evening?"

"Why, Miss Summers!" he teased back. "Are you propositioning me?"

"Do you want me to?" she flirted right back.

"Under normal circumstances, ‘d be honored," he said with mock-gravity. "But not tonight."

"OK, I’ll bite," she said with a curious look. "Why not tonight?"

"Because ‘s come to my attention that tonight’s my beautiful girlfriend’s birthday," he sighed. "Hafta cow-tow to the old ball ‘n chain, y’know?"

She gave him a deadly glare in response. "You don’t watch it and your beautiful girlfriend will have your head on a platter for her birthday," she threatened lightly.

He chuckled. "Too true," he agreed. "So you see why ‘m not available tonight, then?"

"I suppose so," she played along with his little game. "But it’s too bad ‘cause we really could’ve had fun…"

"Don’t s’pose my girlfriend’d let you come with?" Spike suggested, stroking his chin in a way that supposed to look thoughtful but ended up just looking goofy.

Elizabeth giggled. "Depends if she’s the jealous-type," she decided.

"Don’t know," he shrugged. "Whattaya you think?"

"I think," Elizabeth set down her brush and moved over to him, "that she’s very territorial about these things…" Her arms slipped around his waist, and her lips gently brushed his.

He let out a little groan in response, and his eyes rolled back in his head. "You’re too good to me, luv," he whispered raggedly, obviously deeply touched by her admission.

A shy little smile skirted across the edges of her lips, and she cautiously reached up to run her fingers through the peroxide blond locks at one temple. "Spike," she said simply, savoring the knowledge that this wonderful man really was hers.

"’Lizabeth," he sighed, resting his forehead against hers.

They held each other like that for a moment, still linked in a loose embrace before Elizabeth opened her eyes once more.

"I guess I can take it that you’re not cheating on me, then?" she teased lightly, picking up the clunky mug that someone with very little skill in the pottery class had been too ashamed to claim. It made a great depository for her brushes, though.

"Well, technically, I think I might be cheatin’ on you with yourself," Spike said after a moment’s confused consideration.

She laughed at that as well as she washed out her brushes. "That’s the one compromise I’m willing to make," she agreed.

He chuckled and sat down on her vacated stool, watching her clean up. She was so beautiful, even like this with a paint-splattered smock on and her hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a little smudge of blue and white on one cheek. In fact, he thought she looked more beautiful than she ever had before. His heart felt like it would break his chest every time he saw her like this and…

"Hello?" Elizabeth snapped her fingers right in front of his face, breaking him for his daydreams. "Earth to Spike?"

"Pickin’ up Cordy’s mannerisms, I see," he commented wryly.

Elizabeth snapped again for emphasis and grinned. "She’s got this whole theory about how it’s the only way to get through to thick-headed men," she teased. "So far all data support her hypothesis."

He rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. "So what was it you were tryin’ to say while I was busy undressing you with my eyes?" he inquired.

She blushed slightly when her suspicions about his distraction were confirmed but didn’t let it phase her. "Where are we going?" she repeated her question.

"Just dinner, I thought," he said a bit nervously. "Unless you want somethin’ more. But ‘ve got massage oil and that weepy girly music you like to listen to back in our room so…"

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed with a contented smile. Her smock neatly hung over the hook in her locker, she slipped back into his embrace. "Shall we go, lover?" she joked lightly.

"Mmm…" was his incoherent response as he buried his nose in the vanilla perfume of her hair.

"Spike!" She whapped him the shoulder before dragging him along behind her.

He chuckled and followed her more than willingly. "So how does nineteen feel, luv?" he inquired.

"I feel as though I’ve acquired a whole new level of maturity," she answered mock-seriously. "I am a true adult now, ready to take on the work-a-day world. This is the new, professional me and-"

"Luv?"

"Yeah?"

"You’ve got paint on your cheek."

* * *

"Hey, Ahn," Xander said softly from the doorway. "How are you feeling?"

Anya let out a massive yawn. "Sleepy," she blinked a couple of times before nestling down onto his bed once more. "Kinda achy, too."

Xander frowned. The past two weeks had been great - the best of his life, in fact. He and Anya had hit it off as soon as he’d gotten back as if the break had never occurred. He’d actually been worried at first that maybe her baffling - to him, at least - interest in him would have passed over the holiday season, but she was the same funny, workaholic, orgasm-loving woman he’d left behind.

Which was why this latest turn of events had him so worried. "You don’t have a fever," he commented, brushing her hair back from her forehead to feel her temperature. "At least…I don’t think so. Maybe I should ask Willow if she has a thermometer…"

"I’m fine," Anya insisted with a hint of her old self-assuredness. "Just tired is all…"

"If you’re sure…" Xander began hesitantly.

He got a soft snore in response.

As silently as he could, he shut the door behind him, sparing a smile for Jonathan as he returned to his room from class. This was no good, Xander decided quickly. This was getting less and less of the good every day. So, Anya was tired. Plausible? Yes.

Or maybe it would have been if she hadn’t been in bed for three whole days…

* * *

The Blue Club, as it was fondly called by the population of the College of New York, had seen this all a thousand times before. It wasn’t really surprising for a place where depressed students went to get drunk, dance, or just scream loudly into the microphone on stage. There was a reason the Club’s sterile, college-sponsored, generic name was known by none, and instead a color to describe the dismal mood of the student body during the cold, claustrophobic days of winter had taken its place.

However, the sight in the Blue Club tonight was not of the dismal sort, although many prominent examples could be seen throughout the large Friday-night crowds. What was taking place wasn’t the callous drowning of sorrows but a slow and meticulously planned seduction. A hunt, actually, with all the deadly connotations contained therein…

"Hey." Veruca’s svelte body seemed to waver, almost as if it would be blown away by the slightest gust of wind. Her body language was odd, off-centered, as if something were awry deep inside, yet at the same time mesmerizing, like a coiled cobra ready to strike.

"Hey." Oz unplugged his guitar, oblivious that this time around it was finally his turn.

"You headed out then?" Veruca’s question was innocent enough, but there was nothing innocent in those dark eyes surrounded by black rings of mascara.

"Yeah," Oz agreed. "Busy life."

"A man of few words," she responded with a coy smile. "I like that."

A slight furrow of Oz’s brow indicated that he was contemplating her, her existence, her actions, her very place in the universe. Whatever conclusion he came to never made it to his calm demeanor, however.

"If you wanted to…?" Veruca began, leaving the question open-ended.

There was something so tempting in the words that not even Oz could resist. "What?" he asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.

"The night’s young," she answered mysteriously, her body flowing like a silky liquid as she sat on the edge of the stage beside him. "We could, y’know…do something."

Such a seemingly innocuous beginning.

"Cool," he nodded in affirmative.

Something deep and dark flashed in her eyes. "Great," she agreed, a half-smile lighting up her face. "You wanna head out, or…?" She pointed with her thumb towards the door.

Oz caught Devon’s eye for a second and gave him a quick good-bye wave. Devon just nodded absentmindedly and continued his conversation, not aware of what was to come.

"I love a cold winter night," Veruca sighed as she and Oz strolled out of the Blue Club. "The complete silence and dark, the full moon overheard… It just makes you just want to…go wild…"

* * *

"Oh, honey, you look beat," Tara said sympathetically as Willow practically trudged into her room and collapsed upon the bed.

"Remind me again what I was thinking when I decided that taking two labs back-to-back on a Friday was a good idea?" Willow asked rhetorically.

"That you were a psycho masochist?" Tara teased lightly.

Willow barely managed to crack a smile before she began rubbing her temples.

"Headache?" Tara asked, concerned. In an instant, she’d closed her well-worn tome of Hemingway and was giving her girlfriend a little shoulder massage.

"Ah…" Willow sighed in relief at the feel of Tara’s healing touch. "You just saved my life."

"It’s almost ten," Tara pointed. "Lab really ran that late?"

"Later," Willow admitted. "I managed to sneak out of the clean-up. I’m thinking maybe I should drop or audit or something…"

"I thought you needed two more lab classes to graduate," Tara pointed out.

Willow sighed. "Damn you with your logic," she joked lightly, feeling better under the other woman’s caresses. "So, what exciting things did I miss while I was in The Lab That Would Not End?"

Tara giggled into her hand, brushing aside the locks on dishwater brown hair that had gotten in her face as she did so. "It sounds like one of those really bad horror movies that Xander and Spike watch," she decided.

"Except those movies are far less painful to watch," Willow added.

"That bad, huh?" Tara gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"Yeah." Willow gave her big, soulful puppy-dog eyes and earned herself another kiss for her troubles.

"That make it better?" Tara asked softly.

Willow pretended to frown. "Don’t know. Try it again," she teased.

Tara rolled her eyes and flopped back down on the bed. "You got an e-mail from Faith," she delivered the only exciting piece of news that had happened while Willow was gone.

"Ooh!" Willow exclaimed excitedly. "What’d she say?"

"I don’t know," Tara looked over her shoulder at her girlfriend with a coy smile. "Unlike some people, I don’t go around reading other people’s e-mail…"

Willow stuck her tongue out in response to that and double-clicked on the message. "Not coming back this semester," she summarized the message. "Not surprising given that she’s not, y’know, back… Out of rehab, though. Been clean for three months…"

"Good for her," Tara said with a smile, reading over Willow’s shoulder. "Ooh, not living with her psycho mom, either."

"Maybe she’ll come back next year," Willow agreed. "She sounds better."

"It must be tough having to deal with classes on top of all that other crap," Tara agreed.

"Especially with her mom being all freaky," Willow agreed.

"Like your mom didn’t freak?" Tara pointed out.

"Like your whole family didn’t freak?"

"My whole family didn’t need to freak, they are freaks…and not in the good way." Tara shuddered slightly.

"Here’s to casting aside psycho families!" Willow exclaimed, collapsing back down on the bed and closing her eyes.

"We’re staying in for tonight, I take it?" Tara observed with a little smile.

"I’m dead," Willow agreed with a sigh, pulling the blanket over her. "Damn, how am I going to survive this year?"

"You’ll find a way," Tara said confidently. "You always do…"

* * *

"I love you."

Elizabeth sighed in a deeply contented manner and snuggled back into the arms of the naked man who had just spoken. At that moment, she felt like she would never need anything again as long as this would never end. She was whole, complete, loved…

"How can you tell?" she asked curiously, finally responding to his admission.

He shrugged against her back so that she could feel it. "Just know," he insisted. Long, deft fingers brushed her hair aside, exposing the soft curve of her neck to his tender kisses. "Just sorta…slips up on you, y’know?"

Reluctantly, she turned in his arms so that she could face him. She wanted to look at him while they discussed this, and then hopefully she’d be able to figure out what cosmic change had occurred to have made Spike first whisper those fervent words to her two weeks back.

"Tell me about it," she requested softly, her fingers gently tracing the scar on his eyebrow.

His eyelids shut in response, a simple defensive technique to prevent her from seeing the vulnerability within him. It was in moments like these that he was the most unsure about whether he should have told her about the depths of his feelings. She hadn’t reciprocated his words; she had claimed that she wouldn’t say them until she knew for certain what love really was. He could understand that, given the way she’d been hurt so badly…

"Teach me," she whispered against his lips.

He sighed and opened his eyes, allowing her to see the unfathomable emotions that swirled about in their depths. She gasped in response, and he smiled before leaning in to brush his lips slowly across hers.

"Being with you…" he began. "’S indescribable. Like everythin’ else’ll be all right as long as you’re with me. ‘m drawn to you, Summers, a part of you. Just the thought of tryin’ to go on without you…it’d be like a part of me was missin’…"

"It’s not the great sex, then?" she teased lightly.

He chuckled softly. "You make me laugh," he added in a whisper, and her fingers traced his lips as he spoke, "and you make me burn. You infuriate me and delight me and drive me near mad at times."

"Insanity equals love?" She raised one suspicious eyebrow.

The deep timbre of his laugh echoed throughout his room. "C’mere," he purred seductively, pulling her over so that she lay on top of him. He looked down at where her head was cradled against his chest and let out a contented sigh. "Just want this to last forever," he finally decided.

"Yeah, my plans kinda include forever, too," she agreed. "Is that love?"

"Does it feel like it?" he asked curiously, hopefully…

"I don’t know," she whispered. "How do you…?" She let the question trail off. "I don’t know if I’ve ever really loved anybody before," she finally admitted shakily. "My family’s…tolerable at best, and I’ve never…" She felt somehow embarrassed by this admission, dirty.

Spike frowned and tried to explain it. "You just feel somethin’ deep down inside, and you can’t place it for the longest time. And then, one day, you ask yourself ‘is it love?’ an’ the answer’s a resoundin’ ‘yes!’," was the best he could come up with.

"I think I’ve got a hodge-podgey ‘I have no clue’," she sighed in response.

"But forever, huh?" He clung to the good.

"Forever," she agreed with a soft smile, placing a light kiss on his chest. "So," she perked up slightly as she transitioned onto a lighter topic, "whattaya wanna do this summer?"

"Depends," he pointed out. "Spent the last summer here, so generally ‘d head off to England this year. But if we’re gonna get an apartment…"

"If we got an apartment, then we’d move out of the dorm next year," she pointed out.

"That would be the plan," he agreed. "S’pose we could sublet for the summer ‘f we wanted ta come back…"

"Do you wanna come back?" she asked curiously, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Do you?"

"Yeah," she admitted with a shy smile. "I’d kinda miss the guys, y’know?"

"I would, too," he agreed with a relieved smile of his own. "So we’re comin’ back to Westing next year?"

"Definitely," Elizabeth nodded. "You’ll be able to get this room again, right?"

"Can’t imagine Anya or Cordy tryin’ to steal it from us," he put her fears to rest. "’specially given all the action the bed’s gotten," he added with a wry smirk.

"Don’t be so sure," she warned. "Cordy’s stuck with Faith’s room right now, which is smaller and has a mattress with an equally shady history."

"Yeah, but Cordy’s a weepy romantic at heart who would never rob us of our li’l love nest," Spike teased.

"Maybe we should resort to bribery," Elizabeth decided with a little giggle. "When do we choose rooms?"

"May. We’ve got plenty of time…" he assured her.

"Good," she decided. "So, you’re going to England, then?"

"Only if you are," he insisted.

"Hmmm," she sighed. "Definite possibilities there…"

"Don’t hafta decide just yet," he pointed out.

"Okay," she agreed with a lazy smile.

"Uh, pet?" he said uncomfortably after a moment.

"Yeah?" She looked up at him in surprise and concern.

"You’re not as light as you look." He gestured to where she was sprawled entirely on top of his body.

She frowned. "I’ll move, but only on the condition that I get quality cuddling time," she demanded.

"Like tha’s not what I had in mind anyway." He rolled his eyes. "Plus," he added with a wicked gleam in his eyes, "’s your birthday, luv. Which means ‘m yours…" He leaned in close so that he could whisper the next part in her ear, his voice deep and husky. "Any. Way. You. Want me…"

A feminine thrill ran up and down her spine at that. "Mmm, my Spike," she said with an evil little smile. "Just the way I like ‘em…" She finally rolled off of him to lie at his side, and he let out an audible gasp of relief. "Quality spoon time," she reminded him.

Instantly, he was pressed up against her back. "Like this?" he inquired, fingers flitting ephemerally over heated flesh as the soft contours of her body molded to the hardness of his chest.

"Mmm…" she agreed with a contented sigh. Her own caresses grazed across his strong arms as they lay together.

He shut his eyes and let his forehead brush the golden silk of her hair, wishing fervently that this evening would never end…

"Do you think I should get my bellybutton pierced?"

"What?!" It was such a random question that he couldn’t help to complete shock out of his voice.

She pouted. "You don’t think it would be sexy?" she demanded.

"You’re serious?" he asked in surprise.

"Not really," she sighed, fingering her navel lightly. "I just figure that piercings are fun to play with, and if I had one-"

The tip of his thumb flicked across the small depression. "There’re more direct ways of tellin’ me how you want me to touch you," he commented.

"I think I’ll save the ‘oh, Spike, fill me with your humongous cock!’ statements for Anya," Elizabeth retorted. "Plus, it’s fun to confuse you."

"Humongous?" he repeated with barely concealed delight.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "God, you are such a…a…guy," she finally decided.

"No arguin’ with that," he practically purred, pressing his hardness into the soft curve of her ass for emphasis.

"Well, you do kinda have the questionable sexuality thing going on with the black nail-polish," she pretended to seriously consider this statement. "And then there’s the whole earring thing. Not to mention the lack of body hair." Her finger trailed down the smooth center of his chest. "What’s with that, anyway? I thought British guys were supposed to be, like, ultra-hairy or something… Not that I’m complaining, mind you."

"Just got lucky and ended up extra-sexy," he retorted, turning her slightly so that he could hover over her. "And you know ‘m all man, luv, so don’t even pretend-"

"Less talk, more action," she demanded. "’Cause, y’know, actions speak louder than words."

"Got me there," he agreed with a chuckle before sliding down her body.

"Spike?" she frowned and blinked. "What are you-oh!"

"Figured that cute bellybutton ‘f yours was lookin’ for a bit more attention," he retorted with a wry grin. "But if you want me to stop…"

"Don’t you dare stop," she ordered, pulling him down against her once more…

Yadda-yadda-yadda...more to come...review... You know the drill by now, right? ~_^

Chapter Twenty-Nine


"Maybe ‘s one of those plastic rings they put around the tops ‘f milk cartons?" Spike suggested hesitantly, his nose scrunched up in distaste.

"But it’s white," Tara pointed. "Aren’t the milk rings usually blue or yellow?"

"Depends on the brand," Willow pointed out. "But they usually have that plastic ribbing on them…"

"There’s the ribbin’ right there," Spike cautiously pointed at the object in question.

Tara shook her head. "I still say it’s an onion," she insisted.

"Try stabbing it with a fork," Elizabeth suggested helpfully. "Maybe it’ll help identify…that."

The group of college students continued to contemplate the mystery item on Xander’s plate for another minute before Xander finally shrugged, speared the unknown substance with his fork, and ate it.

"How does it taste?" Willow asked anxiously.

"Bland. Tasteless. Like everything else on my plate," Xander responded unhelpfully.

Four sets of shoulders slumped. "Now we can’t even obtain more empirical data to identify it," Willow complained.

"Identify the mystery items on your own tray," Xander retorted. "I’m trying to eat."

Willow sighed at gestured to a yellow thing. "Whattaya think?" she asked Tara. "Squash?"

Spike chuckled as the seemingly endless game continued before eyeing what could have been a mushroom on his own plate carefully and finally daring to eat it. "Why does the food always get ten-times worse in the winter?" he wondered.

"Because the entire universe is conspiring against us to make this as miserable an experience as possible," Elizabeth informed him cheerfully, giving him a quick pat on the knee.

"There’s my li’l optimist," he teased lightly, pushing aside the ‘stir-fry’ in disgust. "’m off to find somethin’ actually edible," he announced, making a brief departure from the table.

"So, Xander," Willow turned to the unusually silent member of their party, "how’s Anya doing?"

Xander sighed. "I finally convinced her to go to Student Health today. Had to borrow Oz’s van to get her there."

"Are we thinking mono?" Tara asked sympathetically.

"She’s been pretty much dead for a week now," Xander agreed. "Of course, there’s lots of other possibilities…"

"If it’s mono, they can get her on antibiotics fast," Willow assured him. "It still might take a while, but, hey, could be worse, right?"

"I’m sure she’ll be fine," Elizabeth said in a kind voice, feeling her friend’s distress.

"She’s so gonna freak when she realizes how many classes she’s missed." Xander shook his head. "I don’t envy her having to make all that up…"

"She can take incompletes and finish her requirements this summer," Willow assured him. "Professors are cool about that sort of thing. Especially if you’re really sick."

"Still, that’s rough," Elizabeth sighed, swirling the yogurt in her bowl around absentmindedly.

"What’s rough?" Cordy’s voice broke into the conversation as she sat down on the table, tray in hand.

"Anya might have mono," Xander provided.

"That is rough," Cordy agreed with a frown. "Sorry to hear that. Especially since it makes my own pain trivial."

"Would that be the pain of stealin’ my seat?" Spike commented, scowling at where Cordy had intentionally pushed his tray to the side. Not that he minded being cramped up closer to Elizabeth, mind you. It was just the principle of the thing.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "No, that would be the pain of my latest theater project. C’mon," she cast dangerous eyes across the table, "who wants to help me?"

Spike nervously sat in the seat between her and Elizabeth and gulped slightly. "What would we ‘afta do?" he asked warily.

"William, William, William," Cordelia patted his hand in a loving manner, "I just know you want to volunteer to help perform my skit in front of the class…"

"Luv?" he turned promptly to Elizabeth. "Mind if we switch seats so Cordy can’t reach my parts when I tell ‘er ‘no’?"

Cordelia sulked. "You are such a prude," she sighed.

"Oi now!" Spike defended himself. "’ll do anythin’ you want…just not in front ‘f an audience…"

"Where’s Oz?" Cordy turned towards more hopeful avenues. "He usually caves in." She turned to Xander. "Unless you’re willing to…?" She batted her eyelashes at him a couple of times just for good measure.

"Uh, what would I be doing?" Xander was doing a remarkably accurate imitation of Spike’s ‘deer caught in headlights’ look from earlier.

"It’s just an ad-lib conversation thing," Cordelia assured him, setting her sights immediately on the easier prey.

"Whoa! ‘Ad-lib’?" Xander repeated in horror.

"I’d be doing most of the ad-libbing," Cordy insisted. "You just have to play along. It’ll be tons of fun."

"Um…you know I’ve never done anything like this before, right?" Xander felt obliged to point out.

Cordy waved one hand in the air dismissively. "It’s not like anyone else has, either. It’s just an exercise in script adaptation - something I need to work on if I ever want to be a director. Please?" She batted the long, thick eyelashes once more.

Xander looked around for help but found his friends too busy fleeing the potential acting part. "Yeah, why not?" he finally agreed reluctantly. "After all, I’ll have a lot of free-time while Anya’s out…"

"Wonderful!" Cordelia exclaimed in delight. "We can start practicing this weekend. Are you free Saturday afternoon?"

"Uh, sure." Xander shifted in his seat uncomfortably when he realized what he’d agreed to.

Spike chuckled. "I pity you, mate," he said in obvious delight that it hadn’t been him this time around.

"Don’t make me hurt you." Xander narrowed his eyes in Spike’s direction and brandished another onion-plastic-like item on his fork in the other’s man direction. "I have mystery, radioactive dining hall food in my arsenal."

"It’s radioactive now?" Cordy asked curiously, studying her own stir-fry. "Wow, I’m amazed that they were even competent enough to accomplish that…"

While she studied her plate, a faux-onion flew over her head, impacting with the side of Spike’s arm. Several carrots went in the other direction before she sat back up and noticed the snickering faces of those around her.

"What?" she demanded, baffled.

The snickering continued.

"Where is Oz, anyway?" Willow desperately tried to salvage what little maturity was left in the group. "I haven’t seen him for a few days now."

"He’s been spendin’ all his time down at the Club," Spike provided. "S’pose he gets bored in that room all by ‘imself what with Devon off interviewin’ this weekend…"

"I still can’t believe he made it to an interview with the New York Times!" Cordy sighed. "I am so jealous right about now…"

"You took one journalism course your first year and you hated it," Spike pointed out.

"But, still!" Cordy insisted. "New York Times? How amazing is that?"

"Too bad Oz isn’t here to say the obligatory monotone ‘amazing’," Elizabeth joked.

"Rumor has it," Tara leaned in conspiratorially, "that he’s got a girlfriend."

Several surprised looks turned her way in response.

"Oz?" Willow said in surprise. "And I didn’t know about it? And how did you hear about it?" She actually sounded a bit hurt by this. After all, she and Oz had been best friends since orientation.

"H-He didn’t say anything," Tara quickly reassured her. "It’s just he’s been hanging around at the Blue Club almost all the time lately, and Devon mentioned that there was this girl that was coming onto him…"

"Oh yeah," Spike nodded. "What was her name again? Vicuña?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Veruca," she corrected him. "A Vicuña is a llama-like creature."

Spike shrugged disinterestedly. "’S still a bloody ridiculous name."

"So speaks the guy named ‘Spike’?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

"You’re one to talk, Bu-"

"Don’t you dare say it!" she snapped, cutting him off in horror.

"I won’t," he assured her quickly, picking up on her concern. "I just-"

"Never mind." She brushed his hand from her shoulder and picked up her glass of orange juice. "I don’t want to talk about it here."

There was an uncomfortable silence at the table for a few minutes while everyone turned back to their food and tried not to notice the worry on Spike’s face or the anger on Elizabeth’s.

"I was going to ask if the usual winter depression has hit yet," Cordelia finally spoke up, "but Elizabeth’s and Spike’s domestic issues have neatly answered my question."

Several annoyed looks turned in her direction.

"What?" she demanded defensively. "It’s what everyone was thinking!"

"Uh, yeah…" Elizabeth was blushing slightly at the reference. She wasn’t all that mad at Spike, actually. It’s just that this was something private that they really couldn’t resolve in front of this huge audience. Under the table, she gave his thigh a little squeeze, and his shoulders immediately relaxed in response.

"So, Willow," Xander decided to break the icy silence, "when’s the next lab tutorial?"

Willow groaned. "Friday," she provided. "God, will someone just kill Carl already and put us all out of our misery?" She banged her head on the table for effect, and Tara patted her shoulder reassuringly.

"What’s this, then?" Spike asked curiously, sparing a small smile for Elizabeth first.

She smiled back.

Willow entered rant mode. "Ugh! Carl’s the other TA for bio 130s this semester. And he’s totally, completely incompetent! It’s like I have to do triple the work just to make up for his idiocy!"

"It’s pretty bad," Xander agreed ruefully. "Like, he tried to explain the Kreb’s Cycle last week and began to discuss the Carbon Cycle in excruciating detail for about fifteen minutes before Willow finally managed to interrupt him and inform him that he was answering the wrong question. And his even his description of the Carbon Cycle was all messed up."

"How do these people qualify as TAs?" Willow wanted to know. "This guy couldn’t even get 1+0 right!"

"Literally," Xander backed her up. "He said it was 0. And then he wrote 1x0=1 right next to it. Like, I get that he wasn’t exactly paying attention to what he was writing…but still!"

"He always grades the homework all screwy, too," Willow shuddered. "It would be easier if I just did it all myself…"

"Poor baby," Tara cooed sympathetically.

"And some lucky people," Xander cast an accusing eye in Elizabeth’s direction, "quit bio this quarter so they don’t even have to deal with this crap."

"Hey, I’m no fool," Elizabeth said smugly. "Hell like I was going to write anymore of those twenty page lab reports."

"I take it a career in the sciences is not for you, then?" Tara teased lightly.

"Dear gods, no!" Elizabeth agreed enthusiastically. "And, given my calculus problem sets, I’m seriously considering fleeing to the humanities right now."

"Econ has lots of problem sets," Cordelia commented. "If you suck at them so much, then maybe you shouldn’t be an econ major."

Stunned silence once more.

"What?!"

"You’re positive she and Anya aren’t twins separated at birth?" Elizabeth teased.

Cordy huffed. "Anya’s into money; I’m into theater. And all of her inappropriate comments are about sex, whereas mine are scathing personal critiques. I mean, we’re two completely different people. Hello?!" The smile on her face indicated that she was more amused than anything, though.

Willow chuckled at that before turning back to Elizabeth. "Are you taking econ this semester?" she asked curiously.

"Dear gods, no," Elizabeth said with a little smile. "Calculus is more math than anyone should have to handle at once."

"Your dad’s good with this?" Tara asked in surprise. "I got the impression that he was kinda…"

"Nazi?" Elizabeth suggested helpfully.

"I wasn’t gonna say in unless you were," Tara agreed with an amused smile.

Elizabeth laughed in response.

"So, you managed to convert the Nazi yet?" Willow added with a grin.

A guilty look crossed Elizabeth’s face at that.

"She’s gettin’ through this semester on the ‘lying to dad about classes’ technique," Spike supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, I kinda glossed over the fact that I’m taking two visual arts classes," Elizabeth admittedly ruefully. "It’s part of my larger strategy of lying that I’m not seriously considering being a visual arts major…"

"Your dad doesn’t approve?" Cordy asked, following the conversation intently.

"That’s the understatement of the year," Elizabeth agreed.

A wicked grin crossed Cordy’s face. "Screw him," she instructed.

Elizabeth blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Screw him," Cordelia repeated. "My parents tried to boss me around, too. So I just went nyah-nyah, declared myself a theater major, and let them squirm in their garish, stuffy old mansion."

"Wow," Elizabeth sighed. "Can you be, like, my role-model?"

Cordelia grinned. "Only five things you need to know. 1) College is about learning in general, not about learning how to do some job. 2) Even if your degree is completely worthless, you can still get some job at a 7/11 after you’ve graduated and then go to vocational school. 3) College is about what you want, not what your parents want. You’ve left home; it’s their job to deal with it. 4) College students have enough stress as it is getting through college without cow towing to pushy parents. So ignore them. 5) Scotch guard is excellent for waterproofing cardboard boxes, should you ever have to live in one. And, there’s free wireless Internet access in Central Park."

"Ah, the only things a true nerdy CofNY student needs," Xander sighed wistfully.

Everyone laughed.

"Did you really tell your parents about the homeless park bit?" Tara asked curiously.

"Why do you think they’re still agreeing to pay my tuition?" Cordy agreed. "Once they found out that I’d actually done all the research…" She affected a deep voice in mock-imitation of her father. " ‘The Chases can endure the shame of allowing one of their own to become an actress, just so long as the newspapers never find out that she lived in a cardboard box’."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Wonder if that one would work on my dad," she sighed.

"If not, go for the rich eccentric aunt," Cordy advised. "That was my back-up plan."

"My mom was the eccentric," Elizabeth grimaced, "marrying ‘new money’. Got me jack-squat inheritance, too."

"What?" Spike said in mock-horror. "And here I was datin’ you for your supposed millions!"

Elizabeth swatted his arm playfully. "Jerk," she grumbled.

His eyes instantly softened into what she had labeled the ‘kicked puppy-dog look’, and she remembered that he was probably still worried that she was pissed about that little nickname he had almost let slip. She reassured him with a coy smile, and her foot slid up his calf under the table.

His eyes widened, and a sly smirk lit up his face. He casually nodded in the direction of upstairs, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes. OK, so maybe she should let him stew in the fear that she was upset with him for a while longer…

The hurt puppy-dog look was back. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Now she knew he was doing that on purpose…

"So, how is that short story collection of yours coming?" Xander asked Tara, drawing Elizabeth’s attention away from her boyfriend’s yummy lower lip and back to the conversation at hand.

"Good," Tara agreed. "I’ve only got about three more to go, so I should be done ahead of schedule."

"That’s my girl," Willow said proudly. "On top of everything as usual."

"On top of everything?" Tara’s cheeks flushed, but she couldn’t help but tease Willow a bit.

Willow’s - and everyone else at the table’s - eyes widened in surprise. Much blushing and stuttering occurred, even from Spike and Cordelia. After all, it wasn’t every day that Tara stunned everyone speechless.

"What, you makin’ the risqué comments for Anyanka while she’s sick?" Spike finally managed to sputter.

Tara gave him an evil grin. "And judging by the lovely maroon shade of your face, I’d say I’m succeeding," she agreed shamelessly.

Elizabeth laughed when Spike’s face reddened further. "Poor baby," she cooed, patting his soft, peroxide curls affectionately.

He debated whether to scowl at her or take advantage of the lovely opportunity offered him to bury his face in her shoulder when two surprising new arrivals completely distracted him from his quandary.

"Hi guys," Jonathan’s voice practically squeaked as he sat down at the table.

His companion looked even more nervous, if that were possible, and practically dropped his tray on the table before sitting in the seat beside Jonathan. "Hey," the blond said with an embarrassed chuckle before ducking his head shyly and quickly focusing on his food.

The table blinked in unison at the odd phenomenon.

"Hi," Willow said back with a bright smile, "I’m Willow."

Jonathan and his friend both looked up. They exchanged a glance for a second, and there was a bit of pointed staring and eyeball rolling in some bizarre communication that only the two of them understood before Jonathan finally let out a weary sigh.

"This is Andrew," he provided.

"You’re a friend ‘f Jonathan’s, then?" Spike inquired, tilting his head to one side as he studied the newcomer.

Andrew looked up at him, blushed horribly, and muttered something under his breath that maybe could’ve been "yeah." He promptly turned back to his tray, and he and Jonathan exchanged a couple of whispered comments.

"How about you, Spike?" Xander decided to start up the conversation again to save the pair across the table from him any further embarrassment. "Has this fine, evil institution been treating you well?"

Spike chuckled at that. "’S amazin’ how much less painful everythin’ is when you don’t go to class," he advised.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "How on earth have you managed not to flunk out yet?" she demanded.

"’S all a matter of managin’ your time best, ducks," he informed her. "You figure out which classes you can skip without missin’ anything from the readings."

"Or you can just not do the readings, but attend class," Xander pointed out wisely.

"Or you can not do both," Spike commented. "Hypothetically speakin’, o’ course." He quickly amended off of the several dangerous glares he was getting. "Trick is to pick whichever option takes the least amount ‘f time." He sighed satisfactorily and slipped his arm over the back of Elizabeth’s chair.

She was, oh, so tempted to give his chair a strategic little shove while he tilted back precariously like that but decided to restrain her impulse for the moment. "If you’ve got free-time, you’re perfectly welcome to do my calculus homework for me," she offered.

"I get anythin’ in return?" he asked with a lascivious smile.

"A headache?" Elizabeth suggested. "That’s what I always get."

"What calc class are you taking?" Jonathan nervously spoke up.

"Just regular," she sighed. "But my TA’s lack of knowledge of the English language might as well make it honor’s calc in Swahili."

"Thought he was German?" Spike inquired, one eyebrow raised.

"Whatever."

"What’re you doing?" Jonathan asked. "’Cause if you’re having problems…"

"You know how to do delta-epsilon proofs?" she demanded.

Andrew scrunched up his nose. "Those suck," he provided. "Waste of time."

"See? Someone else has some commonsense," Elizabeth gestured to Andrew.

He gave her a nervous smile before his eyes quickly flicked back over to Spike again and then down to the table.

"You ever want any help…" Jonathan began hesitantly.

"You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into," Elizabeth assured him. "’Cause me and math? Completely unmixy."

He shrugged and turned back to his food.

"Thanks for offering, though," she quickly amended. "And I’ll stop by if I’m in real trouble." Now she just felt bad. Jonathan had been opening up a bit more before break, but now he seemed as solitary as ever. Well, except for this mysterious friend of his that he’d somehow picked up.

"Yeah, I’m pretty much always in my room," Jonathan agreed with the beginnings of a shy smile.

"Cool," Elizabeth agreed, dropping her empty water glass down on her tray with a note of finality. "You done?" she asked Spike.

"No, I thought ‘d observe the stir-fry some more an’ see if it moves by itself," he retorted sarcastically, gesturing to where he’d shoved his tray into the center of the table in a fit of pique.

"Honey, stop being obnoxious and crabby," Elizabeth teased, ruffling his hair as she got up.

Spike followed her a few seconds later in a flurry of black leather. "Ta, all," he nodded to the group.

"See everyone after my problem session from hell," Elizabeth agreed. "Tell Anya I hope she feels better soon," she added for Xander’s benefit before moving off to bus her tray.

"Y’know," Spike commented, waiting for her by the door after she was done, "I woulda thought that all the pointless gossip would stop after the horror that was high school…"

"But it’s way too much fun to stop," Elizabeth retorted, linking her arm through his as they walked across campus. "Plus, you don’t think they gossip about us nonstop whenever we’re not around?"

He chuckled at that. "Undoubtedly," he agreed. He paused for a moment, organizing his thoughts before he spoke. "You’re not mad at me?" he began hesitantly.

She pulled him to a halt and rose up on her toes to plant a soft kiss on his lips. He pulled her up against him in response, and they savored the taste of the other’s lips for a minute before pulling apart and heading towards the math building once more.

"That feel like I’m mad?" she asked rhetorically.

He grinned. "I am sorry ‘bout mentionin’-" he began.

"Don’t worry about it," she insisted.

"I mean, I know you don’t exactly want everyone to know-"

"I said ‘don’t worry about it’!" she exclaimed in exasperation.

"And now you’re mad at me again," he practically whimpered.

"Argh! I’m not mad at-" she began, clutching her hair before she giggled. "God, you have to be the most irritating man alive," she decided.

"And you know you love it," he retorted, rolling his tongue up beneath his front teeth in a suggestive manner.

She merely rolled her eyes, shook her head, and entered the math building.

A moment’s thought, and then Spike decided that he really had nothing better to do this hour than crash Elizabeth’s problem session as well…

Yeah, for some reason I felt the need to write a one scene chapter. One of those strange moods again. Ooh, and I introduced the last significant character to this story. Warren doesn't get to go up 'cause he killed Tara and we hate him. Ha! Take that, Warren! No story for you! (Don't mind me; I'm crazy today...) I think you're supposed to review now. Or something. ~_^


Chapter Thirty


"Art, by its very nature, encompasses an infinite combination of meanings and expressions," Joyce Devereux lectured, sitting on the table before the row of glass planes that lined one side of the studio. "It comments on the individual and the society, the viewer, the subject matter, and the observer. On it’s most fundamental level, art is not something that can be taught. It is seen, observed, and interpreted over and over again, yet there is no ‘right answer’. Life is art, and art is life. It brings chaos to order, and order to chaos. It is emotional, logical, and spiritual. Literal and representative. And this will our focus for the rest of the semester…"

* * *

Oz woke up to a blinding bright light and instantly wished that he hadn’t. His head was throbbing, and there was a nasty taste in his mouth, and was he…naked?

He sat up with a start and looked around in confusion. He appeared to be in some sort of closet or storeroom…maybe a basement of some sort. He blinked a couple of times, hoping that that would clear out his memory and help he remember how on earth he’d gotten here. No such luck.

And, at that moment, the figure beside him stirred, drawing his attention to her for the first time. "’Morning, lover," Veruca practically growled as she stretched out in a contented manner.

A look of mild panic crossed Oz’s face as he tried to remember anything that had happened last night. It was still a complete haze, however. "Where are we?" he asked with deceptive calmness, gesturing to the storage bins that lined one wall.

Veruca gave him a coy smile and ran her hands sensuously through her hair. "Wow, you were really out of it last night, huh?" she commented, her tone obviously delighted by this fact.

Oz quickly turned away from the sight of her bare breasts and began searching for his clothes.

"Now, now," Veruca practically cooed, "don’t get all prudish on me this morning. Especially not after how wild last night was…"

Oz’s shoulders stiffened at the obvious implications of what had happened. Not that he wasn’t attracted to Veruca; he was, but he didn’t like this whole waking up in some random closet with a naked woman and not knowing how he got here. "Where are we?" he repeated.

Veruca let out a peal of laughter that sounded hollow and empty in the small room. "Richter," she said simply, mirth still dancing in her eyes.

Oz frowned in confusion.

"Richter?" she clarified. "Social sciences building?"

His eyes widened in response. "How did-?"

"Broke the basement window and picked the lock," she provided. "You really don’t remember any of this?"

"Nothing," he insisted, slipping on his pants.

A lazy smile lit up her face. "Well, that’s even more exciting, isn’t it?"

"I’ve missed class," he commented, checking his watch.

Veruca batted one hand in the air dismissively. "After what we did last night, that’s the least of your worries."

He looked back to where she still lay nude on the floor. She looked feral like that, hair curtaining her face, dark-lined eyes and scattered tattoos that looked like they belonged to some ancient tribe. An involuntary shiver ran up his spine in response.

"Look, about us-"

She cut him off with another of those hyena laughs. "What’s done is done," she said simply, rising to her feet and sauntering over to where her jeans had been flung into the corner. "Not to mention fun. But I’m not going to freak if that was just the drugs talking."

He frowned. "Then-"

She slipped her blouse over her head in one smooth motion, toeing on her shoes as she did so. "We go our separate ways, then," she agreed with a wink. "And, maybe, the police don’t find us."

Oz’s eyes widened comically. "What?!" he exclaimed in horror for perhaps the first time ever…

* * *

"Now, I know that some of you like to paint self-portraits, and some of you like more abstract subject-matter, and some prefer nature," Joyce went on outlining the project. "No matter what technique you choose, it’s still possible to express the range of human emotion. Art is about beauty and humanity and making the audience really think. There are infinite variations on the human condition, and exploring them through artwork provides a means to understand others and yourself as well…"

* * *

"Cheetos," Xander announced proudly.

"Junk." Cordelia scrunched her nose up.

"Food," Xander amended.

"Drink."

"Cola."

"Sugar."

"Yummy."

"Childish."

"Games."

"Work."

"School."

"Computer."

"Cheetos."

Cordelia scowled at him. "Cheetos?" she repeated incredulously. "You already said that."

"Ah, but Cheetos are the answer to all life’s questions," Xander said sagely, grabbing a handful of the cheesy goodness from the bag he had been munching out of and crunching on them merrily.

"But Cheetos don’t have anything to do with computers!" Cordelia insisted.

"Sure they do," Xander insisted, holding one Cheeto out as a pointer as he elaborated. "Computers imply computer nerds. And what do computer nerds eat?" He popped the Cheeto into his mouth.

Cordelia shook her head and smiled. "You’re deranged," she announced.

"It’s the Cheetos," he explained. "They warp your mind."

Cordelia giggled. "That’s going in the script," she decided, quickly scrambling for her notes and writing Xander’s Cheeto-related truisms down.

"Oh yeah, that’s high-quality material," he agreed with a sigh, leaning his chair back against the wall of the library study room.

"You’re right. I never could have come up with any that ridiculous myself," Cordy retorted, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Xander flashed her a wide grin. "Hey, at least my idiocy is worth something for once…"

"What you call ‘idiocy’, my professors will call ‘creativity’," Cordy laughed. "So, are you ready to go another round?"

"Just try and stop me," Xander agreed with a grin.

"Paper."

"Death Star."

"What?!" Cordelia exclaimed in complete bewilderment.

"Cheetos," Xander responded with a grin…

* * *

"Some common themes in the past have been listed on the assignment sheet," Joyce announced.

Elizabeth, along with all the other students in Visual Arts 102, scrambled for the paper in the question.

Joyce dimmed the lights and showed the first slide. "Uncertainty," she began listing the themes together with the paintings they had inspired. "Joy… Happiness… Anxiety… Loneliness… Isolation…"

* * *

"You ready?" Jonathan asked.

Andrew wiped his sweaty palms on his pants before picking up his tray. He took one step forward and then… "Are you sure we hafta do this?" he pleaded.

Jonathan sighed. "They were nice last time," he reminded his friend. "Remember?"

"Yeah…" Andrew began hesitantly, "but Spike’s there and…"

"He won’t bite your head off," Jonathan assured him. "He’s actually pretty cool."

A dreamy look crossed Andrew’s face. "I’ll say," he agreed.

Jonathan gave him a look, and Andrew immediately turned serious once more. "You ready now?" Jonathan repeated.

Andrew nodded nervously, and the two of them headed over to the Westing House table.

"’lo," Spike looked up from the notes he had sprawled across the table.

Jonathan nudged Andrew.

"H-Hi," Andrew greeted nervously.

Willow looked up from her own homework. "Andrew, right?" she said with a smile.

"R-Right." Andrew managed a nervous smile before practically hiding his face in his tray.

"Did Elizabeth get her problem set done last night?" Jonathan ventured to ask.

Spike flashed him a thankful smile. "Turned it in bright an’ early this morning," he assured him. "Said you were a godsend for helpin’ her with it."

"Glad I could help," Jonathan practically squeaked before turning to the important task of devouring his burger.

"W-What are you reading?" Andrew inquired.

Spike held up the cover so the two men across from him could see. "Dostoyevsky."

"Geshunteit."

Spike chuckled at that, and Andrew blushed.

"Uh…what about you, Willow?" Jonathan added.

"Only two lab reports due tomorrow," the frazzled redhead answered, snatching up her calculator and frantically punching in numbers. "I can do this…"

"Ouch," Andrew said sympathetically. "I once had a paper, a lab, and a problem set due on the same night as the Babylon 5 movie and-" He cut off with an almost-yelp, face flaming.

"You should hear Xander go on ‘bout that show…" Spike commented with a roll of his eyes. "Completely obsessed, he is."

"It’s only the greatest sci-fi epic ever!" Andrew exclaimed in reply.

"What are you talking about?" Jonathan retorted. "Deep Space Nine was-"

"Deep Space Nine was a complete rip-off," Andrew countered.

"Hello? Star Trek preceded B5!"

"But DS9 stole the idea for multi-episode plot arcs from B5!"

"B5, like all sci-fi shows, is completely derivative of-"

Spike and Willow exchanged an amused glance as the argument escalated to epic proportions.

"Er, uh, yeah. So whattaya think, Spike?" Andrew asked hopefully, breaking the back-and-forth with Jonathan.

"Din’t watch either," Spike replied apologetically.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Andrew sounded disappointed.

* * *

"Now, this may seem like the easiest assignment you’ll get in college," Joyce went on. "After all, all you really have to do is a painting, or maybe a few. And, for those who are just in this class because they have to be-"

A couple of students nudged each other jokingly.

"-it will undoubtedly be nothing more." A wicked smile lit up Joyce’s face then. "Just don’t come complaining to me when you don’t get the grade you wanted."

Chuckles sounded throughout the room.

"However, I’m hoping this experience will be far more than a mere exercise in painting pretty pictures," Joyce continued. "So much focus is placed upon assignments, papers, deadlines. You’re all required to study practically every field there is. And, in the midst of all that, often there just isn’t enough time for life."

"Amen to that!" someone shouted out from the back of the room.

Joyce smiled in response. "This project will hopefully give you the opportunity to study something lacking in other classes - your feelings, hopes, dreams…yourself. This can be a very positive experience, if you’re just willing to take the time to make it one…"

* * *

Anya groaned and rolled over onto her back, blinking a few times before she felt the rumble in her stomach once more. "Xander?" she asked softly.

"Hey, there," Tara’s soft voice answered her instead.

Anya blinked. "Where’s Xander?" she inquired a bit anxiously.

"He’s in class," Tara assured her. "We’re all taking turns on Anya duty."

Anya managed to nod slightly before rolling over onto her side. "Doctors said I have mono," she provided sleepily.

"Yeah, I heard," Tara agreed softly, brushing Anya’s hair back from her forehead. "Hey, no fever," she pointed out.

Anya frowned, trying to break through the thick haze that surrounded her mind. "Do you get fevers with mono?" She couldn’t remember.

"The symptoms can vary a lot," Tara provided. "But the absence of a fever is a good thing. The antibiotics should keep things from getting worse."

Anya nodded against her pillow. "Thanks for, y’know, being here. I mean, I’m sure you’d rather be out with Willow right now…"

"Willow’s got too much for work to hang out with me anyway," Tara assured her. "Besides, you’re my friend. I want to see you get better."

Anya smiled at that. "Thanks…" she repeated.

"You want me to get you something to eat?" Tara offered. "You need to keep up whatever strength you have…"

"Last time I ate, I barfed into a paper bag afterwards." Anya’s face twisted up in distaste. "It hurts my throat, too…"

"How about something light? Chicken broth?"

Anya’s stomach grumbled in response. "Sounds good," she agreed with a yawn. "Just…I’m probably going to fall asleep again soon…"

"Instant," Tara held out the soup packet proudly. "I’ll just go use the microwave. I should be back in a minute."

Anya nodded, not wanting to be left alone that long but too tired to come up with any better solution. A sigh escaped her lips when she heard the door close behind Tara.

This. Sucked.

It was so unfair. She’d finally gotten herself a boyfriend, and she was all caught up in her classes for once, and she had been so looking forward to this semester, and now this. The worst thing was that she was barely even conscious enough to realize all that she was missing. She could only begin to guess what day it was. The alarm clock on her nightstand said that it was eight, but she had no idea if it was AM or PM or…

"You still awake?" Tara asked as she slipped back into the room.

Anya groaned and turned to face her. "Unfortunately," she agreed. "I’ve been in bed so long, my muscles are starting to ache."

Tara gave her a little smile and set the soup down on Anya’s desk before moving over to help her friend sit up in the bed. "You’ve been on the meds for over a week now," she said hopefully. "The doctors said it should take two weeks, tops."

"Another week," Anya sighed wearily, leaning back against her pillows and yawning. "I’m fading fast," she warned the other woman.

Tara handed her the bowl. "Eat whatever you can," she pressed.

Anya sipped from several spoonfuls and managed to empty half the bowl before weariness overtook her. She handed the soup back to Tara with shaky hands.

"Can you hold on just long enough to take two pills?" Tara inquired.

Anya managed a numb nod and quickly down the medication Tara gave her together with half a glass of water.

"You’ll get better soon," Tara assured her, lowering the pillows once more.

Anya snuggled down into them and was asleep against almost immediately.

"Poor baby," Tara cooed softly, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before returning back to her homework…

* * *

"Like I said," Joyce continued, "life is art. So, all you really have to do is find something that has real meaning for you, something that you find beautiful…"

* * *

She was struck speechless by the sight in front of her. She was confident that she was drooling all over, and she didn’t even care.

"Harmony!" Kathy exclaimed in exasperation. "Come on. I’ve still got to work off a thousand calories if I want my miracle diet to work."

Harmony didn’t budge. She just continued to stare into the training room, drinking in the salty goodness before her.

Spike was working on one of the punching bags, wearing nothing more than a pair of baggy black sweats. As his fists and feet pounded into the bag rhythmically, taut muscles rippled beneath smooth, ivory skin, every move one of complete grace and power. A sheen of sweat covered his body as his jabs became more vigorous and he picked up his pace.

Harmony sighed contently as she watched one drop of sweat form at his forehead beneath tousled bleached curls before sliding slowly down the side of his brow, around the razor’s edge of one cheekbone, down the column of his throat before it traced his perfectly muscled body, outlining the pecs and abs that Harmony was currently imagining licking clean. Muscles flexed, and fleshed gleamed, and, oh god! This was more than any girl could handle and still remain sane…

"Harm?" Kathy repeated in annoyance.

A heady exhalation of breath slipped between Harmony’s immaculately lip-sticked lips. "I think I’m in love," she announced, leaning her head against the doorframe to the training room to more comfortably watch this young Adonis she’d stumbled across.

Curious, Kathy approached to see what Harmony was looking at. "Him?" Her eyebrows rose to her hairline. "He is, like, so…common!" She spit out the last word like it was the most disgusting insult ever.

"Oh, c’mon," Harmony retorted. "You’re telling me that body doesn’t even tempt you to go slumming?"

"He’s a loser," Kathy insisted. "And what kind of freak wears black nail-polish? Not to mention the whole ‘80’s are dead’ thing…"

"You’ve got to look beyond the façade," Harmony countered, "to the sexy, muscly goodness that’s just begging to give me a few good rides."

Kathy scoffed. "He has a girlfriend, you know." She watched him deliver a lightning-quick series of kicks and punches to the bags, clearly unimpressed. "Plus, he’s, like…way scrawny. What do you see in him anyway?"

" ‘Scrawny’?" Harmony repeated in disbelief. "That, my friend, is salty goodness to top all other salty goodness."

"Whatever." Kathy rolled her eyes. "He’s still hung up on Bitsy. If you really want a taste, just wait until she’s done with him."

Harmony pouted. "I’m way better than her," she insisted. "I mean, she didn’t even get in to Tri Xi!"

"He’s lunchmeat," Kathy retorted. "Just wait for him to come around. I’m sure he’s a demon in the sack and all, but it’s only a matter of time before Bitsy realizes just how beneath her he really is."

Harmony was still sulking. "I don’t wanna wait," she protested. "Brad is so…blah! I need to rock my world, so to speak…" She licked her lips as Spike moved away from the punching bag to cool his face with the water from his nearby bottle. Sweaty, half-naked Spike got a whole lot wetter as little rivulets ran down his body, a sight so scrumptious it had her practically panting.

"It shouldn’t be long," Kathy comforted her friend. "After all, Daddy’s bound to snap her back to reality soon. It’s shameless how long she’s stuck with him."

Harmony cast the object of her lust one last longing glance before finally allowing Kathy to pull her over to the step machines. "Such a waste…" she sighed dreamily.

Spike looked up at that moment to find that, no, there was no one at the door. That odd feeling that he was being watched passed, and he shook it off as the restlessness of a long day. Absentmindedly removing the tape that he’d bound his hands with, he walked over to his towel and gym bag. A quick glance at the clock informed him that Elizabeth’s class would just be getting out, and a smile lit up his face.

This weekend he was going to dazzle her. Once and for all, he was going to show her what love really meant, and by the end of it she’d hopefully be swept completely off of her feet. And, hey, even if he had to wait longer, he would because the two of them had all the time in the world…

* * *

"And I’m sure you’ve all fallen asleep by now," Joyce concluded with a smile. "Sorry for going on and on like that, but this project is always one of the most fascinating from my perspective as the teacher and observer. So, are there any questions?"

Complete silence filled the room.

"Great," Joyce looked down at her notes. "That’s all I’ve scheduled for today’s class, so I’ll let you all out early-"

A dozen students instantly leapt to their feet, shoveling books into the gaping maws of their backpacks.

Joyce inwardly rolled her eyes at the impatience of youth. "And, let me repeat: there will be absolutely no extensions. I expect you to actually work in the studio on the free days I’ve given you. Please, don’t put this one off until the last minute…"

She got several pointed looks.

"Yes, a hopeless request, I know," she reassured them with an amused smile. "So, I’ll see you all on Monday, then?"

The class fled the room on masse with one exception.

"Elizabeth?" Joyce asked curiously. "Did you want something?"

"No, just thinking," she assured her, zipping up her bag.

"You have any ideas?" Joyce wondered.

"Not yet," Elizabeth bit her lower lip, "but I’m working on it…"

Author's Note: This is now officially the longest story I've ever written. Very exciting...well, to me, at least. ~_^

Chapter Thirty-One


"C’mon, this is silly," Elizabeth insisted. "Can’t I just-?"

"No," Spike said vehemently. "Blindfold stays on."

"But it’s just-" she protested.

"No," he repeated.

She sighed. "If you walk me into anything, I’m going to kick your ass," she informed him with a little smile.

He grinned at that as well and held open the door for her as he guided her inside. "Watch the step, luv," he advised.

She managed to overcome the obstacle and heard the door to Spike’s house shut behind her. "Your mom’s not going to think it’s weird that I’m wandering around your house in a blindfold?" she pointed out.

"Mum’s not here," he practically purred into her ear. "Spendin’ the weekend up at Cambridge with dad. For Valentine’s Day and all…"

"Does that mean we have the house all to ourselves?" she asked coyly, a falsely innocent expression on her face. "’Cause I don’t know if I can trust you not to ravish me when we’re all alone like this…"

"Better believe you can’t," he agreed with a little groan, pulling her body up against his.

She let out a little squeak on surprise, worried that she would fall over, but quickly found herself pressed up against the sturdy support of her boyfriend’s well-muscled body. "Mmm," she murmured contentedly, bringing her hands up to rest on his shoulders, "alone, blind, completely defenseless and at your mercy… I like it."

He chuckled at the ‘defenseless’ line before leaning in to steal a kiss from her lips. It was just a gentle brush, tender and loving and hinting very much of things to come. "Got somethin’ to show you," he announced, pulling back from her enticing embrace.

"Does that mean I get to see again?" she asked hopefully.

The only response she got was a quick caress to the cheek before strong hands took hold of her own smaller ones and led her through the house.

Excited anticipation built up in her at the mysterious nature of this liaison. Spike had been very hush-hush about his plans for this weekend, and she’d humored his romantic notions until now. But she was getting really damn curious!

An arm slipped around her waist, bringing her to a halt, and her nerve endings tingled where he touched her. "Can I take the blindfold off yet?" she asked petulantly.

"Here, let me," he requested.

She felt him nuzzle her hair and then shift to close his teeth over the tie in the handkerchief around her eyes. Her body temperature rose as she was once more reminded of the talent and skill of his mouth.

And then she opened her eyes and…

"Always knew you were a softy at heart," she teased lightly, touched by the simple romantic dinner he’d set up for them.

"Yeah, well, just don’t tell anyone," he grumbled, obviously slightly embarrassed.

She gave him a seductive smile in response and drifted over to the small table for two, fingers lightly tracing over the crimson petals of the rose before one of the plates. "For me?" she asked softly.

"Always," he agreed, his voice a husky whisper.

She picked it up by its long stem, mindful of the thorns. A mischievous gleam in her eyes, she stalked over to him. "Close your eyes," she requested.

One eyebrow rose in response, but he did as she asked. "You gonna blindfold me now?" he inquired, a hint of the old cheek in his voice.

"Maybe later," she decided. She held out the rose to his nose, letting him smell the fragrant blossom before she set upon her important task. "You know," she began, brushing the crimson petals lightly against his forehead, carefully tracing the outline of his face, "I’ve never gotten flowers before."

"That’s silly," Spike scoffed. "’ve never met a women more deservin’ of flowers."

She smiled at that. "You would think so, wouldn’t you?" she agreed. The rose followed the razor’s edge of one cheekbone before mimicking its motions on the other. "But it’s amazing how clueless some guys can be about these sorts of things."

"I take it you like, then?" he concluded with a smug smile.

"Hmm," she responded intentionally vaguely. She bypassed his mouth and turned to his throat, finding one throbbing pulse point and circling it lovingly. "And, then, some guys do the obligatory flowers thing," she went on, "but they don’t add those little romantic gestures that make it extra special."

"For shame," Spike joked lightly, eyes still shut tight.

"Things like, say, a house with just the two of us, dinner, candles, mystery and intrigue," she rambled a bit. "Not to mention that they all suffer from the extreme handicap of not being you." The rose had descended to the hollow of his throat now and tickled the sensitive flesh there lightly.

"Poor unfortunate blokes," Spike agreed mock-wistfully.

"Lucky for me," Elizabeth brought the rose up to kiss his lips, "my man’s absolutely perfect…even when he is a jerk…"

He chuckled at that, and she took advantage of the delightful smile on his face to replace the crimson petals with her lips. This kiss was longer, deeper, and Elizabeth put everything she had into it. She still didn’t know how to tell whether or not she was in love, but this… It was, oh, so wonderful…

Her lips drifted from his after a minute, and he buried his face in her hair, eyes still firmly shut. "Hungry, luv?" he inquired.

"Starving," she agreed.

"Can I open my eyes now, then?" he asked hopefully.

"Either that or you get an unromantic spoon-feeding," she teased, stepping away from him.

A lazy, contented smile crossed his face, and he opened his eyes to see her already sitting down. "Humph," he grumbled under his breath, "din’t even gimme a chance to hold the chair out for you…"

"There’s that lovely, sexy snark," Elizabeth replied with a fond smile.

He smiled and plucked the cover off of her plate with a flourish.

"Ah, pasta," she giggled, "the only dish the kitchen-inept college student can make."

"’ll have you know that ‘m an excellent cook," he retorted, feathers obviously ruffled.

Elizabeth cast him an incredulous glance as she swirled the first bite of fettuccine up on her fork. "You?" she asked in disbelief. She took a bite. OK, so it was actually good, but…

"Dad raised me on all sorts ‘f horror stories ‘bout living on undercooked brown rice. Made damn sure that I could throw all my favorite dishes together," he explained.

A surprised expression crossed Elizabeth’s face. "I didn’t know that," she said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, well, ‘m too lazy to ever cook back at the dorm," Spike commented, now set upon devouring his meal as quickly as possible. "Bleedin’ microwave even takes too long…"

"I didn’t know that," she repeated, sounding slightly troubled.

Spike was worried as well. He mentally went over the list of things he could possibly have done to bollocks this up and came up empty. "Yeah?" he pressed.

"I-I just thought that I, well…knew everything about you," she admitted, biting her lower lip.

The edges of his lips turned up in the hint of a smile, and he reached over to cover her hand with his. "Impossible to know absolutely everythin’ about a person," he pointed out. "Sure there’s all sorts of random details that’ve just never come up."

"You think there are things about me that you don’t know, then?" Elizabeth managed a little smile of her own.

"Positive," he agreed.

"Like what?"

He gave her an annoyed look at her little joke.

She laughed at his expression and turned back to her food.

"You think you’re funny, but you’re not," he sighed, rolling his eyes heavenwards in search of an ally somewhere.

"I so am, and you so know I am," she countered. "You know you wanted to laugh, but that cute little badass persona of yours-"

"Cute?!" he exclaimed in absolute horror.

"Kitty-cat," she resorted to her favored method of teasing/flirting with him.

"Kitty-cat’s got claws." His eyes narrowed.

"Kitty-cat’s girlfriend kicks his ass every week at practice," Elizabeth shot back just as gleefully.

"Kitty-cat could take you in a real fight," he insisted, "with no rules an’ such."

"Yeah, right." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Kitty-cat’s gonna end up in traction if Kitty-cat doesn’t watch his mouth."

Spike beamed in response to the death threat. "God, I love you…" he sighed.

She managed a shy smile in response to that. "You are sooo weird…"

"Just makes me all the more sexy," he agreed with a wink. "All sorts ‘f little quirks to keep you guessin’. Keeps things nice and excitin’."

She really couldn’t argue with that. She’d grown used to being with him, true, but she didn’t ever think that a life with Spike could become dull. He was dynamic, ever-changing, like the tides of the ocean that shone through in the brilliant blue of his eyes. And every time she’d thought she’d figured him out, some new piece of the puzzle showed up. He was like peeling an onion, except the layers kept going on and on, each one revealing a new facet to this beautiful man. She wasn’t sure that she’d ever run out of layers to peel back, and something about that made her pulse race.

"The answers to the universe written in the swirl of your pasta?" Spike joked lightly, noticing her intense concentration.

She smiled up at him. "You’re an infinite onion," she informed him with no preamble.

A delighted smile crossed his face at that as he instinctively realized that compliment for what it was. "’S about the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me," he replied, looking up at her shyly from under long lashes.

"God, I think you’re telepathic or something," she sighed. "My attempt to thoroughly confuse you has failed."

"Only with you, ‘Lizabeth," he assured her with a cheeky grin.

"From sweet to irritating in five seconds flat," she teased. "Is that a personal best?"

"Possibly," he agreed, "but you just beat me with your own three seconds."

She laughed. "God, it’s a miracle we haven’t killed each other yet," she decided.

"Found somethin’ more fun to do instead," he said with a leer.

She rolled her eyes. "Food. Eat. Now. Sex later," she said in a mockingly condescending tone.

"Sure know how to motivate a bloke, doncha?" He dug back into his food with a grin.

"You are such a kid sometimes," she sighed. "A large, muscular, well-defined, sexy, horny kid…"

He chuckled in response. "You know me too well, pet," he agreed.

"No…" she began slowly, realizing something, "I don’t."

He looked up at her in surprise.

"Infinite onion," she reminded him. "There’s always another layer to be peeled back, more Spike to reveal…"

He gestured to his shirt. "Feel free to peel this layer back anytime you want," he teased.

She smiled before her expression turned serious once more. "Tell me something about yourself that I don’t know," she requested. "Something that you think will surprise me."

Spike blinked at that before nodding. "Good game, pet," he agreed before pondering the task before him. "’m askin’ you next so you’d better come up with something."

"I’m no welcher," she agreed.

He contemplated his fork for a minute before he finally spoke. "Childhood stuff count?" he asked.

She nodded.

"’Round eight I went deaf," he finished proudly.

She blinked. "You’re not-" she protested.

He rolled his eyes. "Not anymore," he agreed. "Nasty bugger ‘f an infection. Had surgery and meds an’ everything. Couldn’t hear a damn thing for almost a month. Scariest thing ever happened to me."

Her eyes widened. "You’re serious?"

"Completely," he agreed.

"Oh, baby…" she cooed, her expression softening, "I’m sorry."

"Doesn’t bother me much anymore," he assured her. "Just a fun fact."

She made a pouty face. "But you were so cute in all those pictures!" she insisted. "Kids that cute should never hafta go through anything that traumatic…"

He crossed his arms over his chest and sulked. "Was not cute."

She grinned maliciously. "Were so cute," she sing-songed. "You had cute curly hair, and cute blue eyes, and those cute little outfits with the suspenders, and-"

"Ah! Stop!" he pleaded, holding his hands over his ears to block out the horror.

"Baby." She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

Cautiously, he removed his hands from his ears.

"You make it sound like it’s a bad thing," she persisted, despite his groan of complaint. "It’s kinda a good guarantee, actually. Y’know, in case we ever wanted to…" She blushed horribly when she realized what she was implied.

He looked at her in surprise as well.

"Well, obviously not…I mean, now…by someday…" Her face was a deep, rich purple by now. "Oh god!" she exclaimed, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment.

A genuine smile lit up his face, making him look more like the cute boy he’d once been with the dimples and the toothy grin. "Are you offerin’ to bear my children, Summers?" he couldn’t help but tease.

"Oh god!" she repeated in despair before sighing. "Well, I mean…I want to someday…just, y’know, a long time from now and…" Nope, still too embarrassed to form a coherent sentence. "Oh god!"

"Oi now, luv," he said in a gentle, silky voice. "’S all right. ‘ve felt a bit of an urge to sire a brat someday, too." His cheeks flushed as well. "You’ve always been the mother," he admitted, his voice losing its usual drawl and sounding more like his father’s polished accent.

Her heart seemed to melt at his admission. It really was the most unusual feeling. "If you want any cooperation, you’d better not ever call our kid a brat again," she informed him with false sternness.

A smile lit up his face. "Just one?" he inquired.

She nodded. "I liked being an only child. Plus, I don’t know if I could handle two."

"Liked the only child bit, too," he agreed. "Although, technically, you’re not one…"

She rolled her eyes at the reference to Dawn. "Yeah, but I didn’t grow up with her. And we didn’t manage to get along until I moved out."

"So, how often’d you get the question ‘aren’t you lonely without brothers and sisters?’" Spike affected a nasal voice for the question.

Elizabeth laughed. "All the time," she agreed with a shudder. "Wasn’t that just sooo annoying?"

"Yeah, like not havin’ to put up with annoyin’ siblings whose sole goal in life is to make you as miserable as possible is such a loss," he agreed.

"They’re all just jealous ‘cause they had to share their mommies and daddies," Elizabeth added.

"So, one kid then," Spike decided with a smile. "Boy or girl?"

"Oh my god, I can’t believe you," she exclaimed with a giggle. "You, with the black leather and the bleached hair planning out your dream family like a teenage girl at a sleepover." Chortles of laughter overtook her at the image of Spike stuck firmly in one of those lame slumber parties she’d had as a kid, curlers in hair and nails being painting while discussing boys and baby names.

He sulked. "You tell anyone and I-"

"What?" she dared him to come up with a good threat.

"-I hold out on the sex," he finished proudly.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened comically. "Sorry," she insisted. "It’s just…" The image had her cracking up once more. "Curlers in hair!" she exclaimed, laughing hysterically.

"Not too flatterin’ on you, either," he retorted.

She snickered a couple more times. "Not sure," she finally said.

"Pardon?"

"Boy or girl," she clarified. "I always wanted a girl, but… You were really cute."

He sighed, resigned to his fate. "This is gonna be the new thing you’re gonna torture me with, innit?"

"Oh, yeah," she agreed with wicked delight.

With a shake of his head, he got up and walked over to the counter. "Do you mind if I…?" he began hesitantly, gesturing to the bottle of wine there.

"Aren’t you not supposed to drink?" she pointed out.

"One glass ‘f wine on a special occasion?" The way he said it made it all too clear that he wouldn’t drink if she asked him not to.

She bit her lower lip as she pondered something very dangerous. "On one condition," she agreed. "You have to pour me one, too."

Spike froze for a moment in stunned silence. "I-I thought you never… Because of…" he stammered slightly in surprise.

"I haven’t," she whispered softly, approaching him. "But I’m not afraid as long as I’m with you." She planted a soft kiss just on the edge of his lips. "I trust you…"

Those three words were easily the most lovely he’d ever heard in his life. He didn’t want this moment to end, he was so completely and utterly happy. Better than sex, better than…everything…

"Spikey, wake up," Elizabeth said with an amused shake of her head.

"Huh?" He blinked and finally took the glass from her. Somehow she’d managed to retrieve the bottle from him and pour two glasses all while he’d been in his stunned stupor.

"To us?" she offered a toast.

"To us," he agreed in a deep voice, studying her face intently as their two glasses met with a clink.

She watched him as well while she drank of the deep, garnet liquid. "Good stuff," she commented. "It’s been a long time. I’d forgotten just how much I liked wine." She finished off the small glass with a flourish. Unaccustomed to the alcohol as she was, she felt slightly giddy in response, but no panic settled in over her as she felt herself losing control. This was Spike. Sweet, sexy Spike who loved her and would never, ever do anything to hurt her.

"My parents always have the best stuff around the house," he agreed, finishing off his own glass. True to his word, he put the bottle aside. "Care for a dance, luv?" he asked softly, holding out his hand to her.

"If it occurs in your bed, yeah," she countered with a wink and a giggle.

He gulped. The sight of her so carefree, trusting in him completely, wanting him…

"Come up to bed, luv," she pleaded softly, catching his hands and pulling him up against her. Her teeth nipped at his throat gently, and she enjoyed the sensations that flooded through her body when they were this close.

He really didn’t have any argument for that. True, he had other plans, but they had the whole weekend, and…

With a frantic intensity to rival their first coupling, the two of them made their way up to Spike’s room despite their entangled kisses and fell to the bed, limbs intertwined. Elizabeth let him pin her down after only a brief mock-struggle for dominance and lay back, thoroughly enjoying the attentions he was bestowing upon her body.

"You taste so sweet," he whispered, trailing kisses down the skin that was exposed as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse. "Like fine wine. Need to taste you. Drunk on you now, Summers…"

She smiled lazily and wound her fingers into his peroxide locks. "Want you," she agreed. "Need you…"

His tongue reached her navel and played with the depression there, simulating the actions he was soon to take lower down on her body.

She squirmed and writhed beneath him. "Good boyfriend," she teased lightly. "Learns quickly."

He gave her a mock scowl before turning to look at her pants. "Now, that’s no good," he tisked and shook his head at how they prevented him from pleasuring her. "Hafta get you off," he decided with a little grin, moving to unclasp the top button.

Elizabeth’s hands fumbled at his shirt as well. "Wanna see you," she insisted. "Wanna be with you…"

Whether it was lust or the bit of alcohol they’d both consumed for the first time in over a year, neither could say. But their actions fumbled more than usual, raising the tension and desire between them to almost feverish levels. Spike’s jeans caught around his boots, and he angrily kicked the whole ensemble across the room while Elizabeth worked at the stubborn clasp of her bra.

Both triumphant in their tasks at the same time, they turned to look at the other, and the world seemed to stop.

"Beautiful…" Spike purred, returning to the bed and slowly crawling up its length to where she lay amidst the pillows.

"Breathtaking…" she agreed, watching the steel of his muscles slide beneath the silk of his skin. So hard and so soft all at once, and she just wanted him now, more…always more…

"I love you," he whispered raggedly, settling between her spread thighs.

"I-I think I…" she stammered nervously.

"Shh," he hushed her, "just let it happen, luv…"

She nodded and looked up at him with a little smile. "You’re wonderful," she said, still amazed at how loving he could be. "Everything about you…" Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, and he leaned into her caress, eyes squeezed shut tight.

His hand ventured into her dark curls, finding her wet and ready for him. He parted her inner lips gently, stroking her and stretching her, determined to make this as pleasurable an experience for her as possible.

She hissed at the feel of his fingers inside her, pulling him down for a kiss as her desire for him continued to increase exponentially. "Spike?" she requested softly, looking up at him with wide sloe eyes.

His forehead leaned in to rest against hers. "Yeah…" he agreed with a slight nod.

Their lips brushed softly before he slowly rotated his lips, so that just his swollen head was within her. The position was almost impossible to hold, the desire to thrust all the way inside her overwhelming. He fought back the instinctual urges, however, despite her needy whimpering.

"Spike?" she repeated, her voice sounding hoarse, desperate.

"We’re gonna savor every second," he informed her, his own voice strained, "feel every inch. Wanna teach you what lovemakin’s all about…"

Heat suffused her body at the thought. "Yes," she gasped, wrapping her arms around his back and pulling him close. The action caused her breasts to press flat against the planes of his chest.

A delighted sigh escaped both their lips, and he began to push oh-so-slowly within her. Elizabeth could literally feel her internal muscles press into him before they slowly relaxed, stretching and accommodating the large invasion. It was an experience unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It was almost like she could feel everything he was experiencing, knew exactly his pleasure, his thoughts, his needs, his desires…

By the time they started moving, they were so intimately joined - body, mind, and soul - that they weren’t even aware of their actions. Pleasure rose, peaked, and fell, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the union. They were one being, complete at last, whole at last, loved at last.

Spike rolled onto his back, still within her, when the intensity became too much and the world began to fade away.

Vaguely aware that something of cosmic scale had occurred, but too sleepy and satisfied to deal with it at the moment, Elizabeth drifted off into a deep, wonderful sleep.

Her lover’s body still tied to her own rhythms, Spike joined her, finally convinced that the love of his life was really and truly his. Forever.

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Dawn, can you pass the potatoes, please?"

Hank’s question was the first sound to interrupt the sullen silence

at the dinner table since the meal had begun. It was rare for Hank to be

in town for any length of time, but when he was there, he still expected

to have dinner cooked for him and a family meal, despite the impending

divorce proceedings. His soon-to-be ex-wife didn’t seem to have the guts

to complain. Dawn just wished her mother would finally kick her father

out for good. As bad as things were when he was gone, they were even worse

when he was present.

Not looking up from where she was sulking, Dawn shoved the potatoes

in his direction.

If Hank noticed the rudeness of the gesture, he didn’t show it. "So,

pumpkin," he said in a cheerful voice that was grossly inappropriate to

the situation, "how’s school going?"

"Fine." Dawn wouldn’t have responded, but that probably meant that she’d

get more attention. And all she really wanted to do right now was

finish dinner, get out of the house, and go find her friends.

"You have good teachers?" he pressed.

"Sure," she grumbled.

"And your classes?"

"Fine."

"How about cheerleading practice?"

Dawn blinked. No, there was no way in hell he was really that

clueless, was there? "I’m not on the cheerleading squad," she glared at

him. "That was Elizabeth, not me."

Hank frowned. "You mean Buffy?" he corrected.

Dawn felt the anger start to build within her. "Her name is

Elizabeth,"

she insisted. "Maybe if you ever actually bothered to pay attention to

either of us, you’d know these things."

Anger flashed in Hank’s eyes at that. "I work very hard," he

hissed, "to give you girls a life worthy of your status. And, really, you

don’t even have the same status that Buffy does, so maybe you should be

a bit more grateful that I’ve let you into this world."

"Hank-" Dawn’s mother began hesitantly.

"I don’t want this life!" Dawn practically screeched, leaping

up out of her seat. She snatched up the silver - and very expensive - decanter

from the table and threw it across the room violently. "We don’t

want this life! What we want is a real dad!"

"You want to be poor, then?" Hank bit back snidely. "You want to be

a commoner? You ungrateful little brat!"

"Is money all you ever think about?!" Dawn shot back. "’Cause there

are a lot of things that are more important!"

Dawn’s mother winced and lay a hand on her daughter’s arm, attempting

to calm her down until this blew out of proportion.

Dawn quickly snatched it back. "I hope you enjoy playing with your newest

slut," she hissed dangerously, tears in her eyes. "I hope she makes you

miserable just like everything else in your pathetic life does. Because

you don’t feel anything. You’re just a heartless monster…"

"You will show some respect for me, young lady," Hank’s face

was burning with rage. "And you do not talk about my fiancée

that way!"

" ‘Fiancée’?" Dawn repeated with a snort. "In case no one ever

bothered to inform you, you’re already married!"

"That’s it!" Hank shouted at the top of his lungs. "Up to your room,

young lady!"

Dawn crossed her arms over her chest. "I don’t have to listen to you,"

she insisted.

"I am your father!"

"No, you’re not," she shot right back. "You don’t know the first thing

about being a father. You’ve never been a father to me or Elizabeth."

"You are in so much trouble," he said angrily, stalking around

the table and grabbing her arm roughly.

She tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. Tears formed at

the corners of her eyes. "You’re hurting me," she whimpered.

Her mother was on her feet in an instant at that. "Let her go," she

insisted sternly.

Hank cast her an annoyed look. "I can see now just how spoiled you girls

are," he informed Dawn dangerously, loosing his grip so that it was no

longer painful but refusing to let her go. "I suppose it’s my own fault.

I’ve been too lenient on you, let you get away with too much. Well, I’m

not going to let whatever silly notions have infected your sister’s mind

to get to you, too. It’s about time you both stopped throwing away the

lives I’ve given you."

"Maybe we want our own lives." Dawn felt the rage boil over within her.

"Maybe we want something more than your shallow existence."

"You are a Summers!" Hank exclaimed, outraged. "You should be

honored to bear such a name of success!"

"God, medieval much?" Dawn snorted with a roll of her eyes and a toss

of her hair.

"We are through having this discussion, young lady." Hank yanked

on her arm, pulling her over to the staircase. "You are going to your room,

and you are going to stay there until you’ve learned some respect."

"I’m not going anywhere with you!" Dawn dug her heels into the carpet,

making his task as difficult as possible.

"Hank!" Her mother ran after them. "Be careful!"

"You’ve been spoiling her, too," he accused bitterly. "None of

you appreciate me. And you wonder why I’m leaving?"

Dawn’s mother’s jaw opened wide as if she’d just been slapped. "You

arrogant bastard!" she screamed. "How dare you?! Do you have any

idea how much I’ve put up with-"

"If you were actually as good a wife as you claim to be, you would’ve

put up with so much more!" he snapped back. Dawn still struggling in one

arm, he managed to shove her into her room. "Now, stay put where you belong!"

he said angrily.

"You’re pathetic!" Dawn screeched at the top of her lungs. "You

don’t know anything about having a family. You’re just a complete

loser.

Spike’s parents would never-" She froze abruptly, eyes widening

when she realized what she just said.

Hank’s eyes narrowed. "Who on earth is Spike?!" he demanded.

"Oops…" Dawn’s face paled.

* * *

"Go, Anya!" Devon cheered, clapping his hands together.

The others at the table added to the applause as well.

Anya managed a small smile before collapsing in the chair Xander held

out for her. "Thanks," she agreed. "Long time, no see." Her eyes alighted

on Cordelia, and her smile widened. "Longer time, no see."

Cordelia made a humphing noise as Xander sat down between the two of

them. "I helped watch over you while you were sick," she insisted. "You

were even conscious twice while I was there."

"There’s a difference between ‘conscious’ and ‘aware of my surroundings’,"

Anya countered.

"Just like there’s a difference between ‘oblivious’ and ‘rude’?" Cordy

snarked.

Anya grinned. "God, I missed you last semester."

Cordy smiled as well. "I would hug you," she announced, "but you’ve

probably got all sorts of nasty germs that I don’t want to pick up."

"As opposed to all the nasty germs that were in my room when you watched

over me?" Anya pointed out.

"Held a handkerchief over my mouth the entire time," Cordy retorted.

"Shall I sneeze on you, then?"

"You’ll have to sneeze on Xander first."

Anya snorted. "Stuck up prude."

"Capitalist bitch."

"Prom queen."

"Cheap slut."

They both laughed in sudden unison.

"God, I missed you," Anya smiled.

"Me, too," Cordelia agreed. "How about this? We hug through Xander.

Make a couple of his wet dreams come true?"

Anya nodded in agreement, and Xander suddenly found himself the hug

buffer between Cordy and Anya’s disease. His embarrassment at Cordy’s last

astute comment washed away, and an idiotic grin crossed his face at being

hugged by two such beautiful women. Wet dream, indeed…

"Are they always like this?" he wondered with a wistful sigh when they

both broke off their hug.

"Pretty much," Tara agreed with a sly smile. "Although half the time

they’re throwing stuff as well."

"General rule of thumb," Devon added. "Instant death comes to anyone

who tries to sit between Anya and Cordy. And Spike. Or, at least, death

to their clothing."

Xander looked down at his Hawaiian shirt. "Somehow I don’t think it

would be a tragedy if this shirt died," he pointed out.

"More like a blessing," Cordy agreed with a shake of her head. "You

look even gayer than Spike did that one time we made him wear my dress."

"Spike in a dress?" Xander laughed aloud at the image.

"It was great," Anya agreed. "He does very, very stupid things when

he’s drunk. We took many pictures."

"And are currently holding them over him for blackmail," Cordy agreed.

"What was the ransom?" She frowned as she tried to remember the forgotten

detail.

"Five-hundred twenty-three dollars and forty-seven cents," Anya provided.

"And, he becomes our massage boy until graduation."

"He still hasn’t caved, has he?" Cordy frowned.

"No," Anya sighed wistfully, "and Elizabeth will never let us get away

with the massage part now…"

Snickers spread between the two of them again.

"OK, I am so lost." Xander blinked several times.

"We all are, too," Tara assured him. "Don’t bother trying to figure

the three of them when they get all weird and loopy. You’ll just get a

very bad headache."

"Someone speaks from experience?" Devon inquired.

Tara gave him a long-suffering nod.

"Where is Spike anyway?" Anya demanded, scanning the table intently

as if he would miraculously appear if she just thought about it hard enough.

"He called me Anyanka a total of thirty-three times while I was sick, and

I was too tired to respond. I’m thinking of suing him for harassment and

emotional trauma."

"He and Elizabeth are staying at his house this weekend," Tara provided.

"For Valentine’s Day."

"Isn’t it sooo sweet?" Cordy said in a squeaky voice, making

little kissy faces.

"At least I don’t have to listen to them having orgasms," Anya shrugged.

"They didn’t disturb you while you were sick, did they?" Tara asked,

concerned.

Anya sipped at a spoonful of her soup. "Actually, they did a surprisingly

good job of keeping it down," she conceded. "But that doesn’t absolve Spike

from the other forms of emotional trauma he inflicted upon me. Lawsuit,

here I come…"

"I thought you calculated that Spike doesn’t have enough money for a

lawsuit to be worthwhile?" Cordy inquired.

"I’m assuming that he and Elizabeth will get married in the near future,

adding her inheritance to the pot to be won," Anya responded.

"What if they have a good pre-nup?" Cordelia pointed out.

"I’m trying to find a crafty way of allowing them to let me write their

pre-nup," Anya explained wisely.

"Should I feel concerned that she’s trying to rob two of my best friends

blind?" Xander wondered.

"I’m trying to rob everyone blind," Anya assured him with a quick pat

to the hand. "Don’t worry. It’s nothing personal."

Tara laughed at that. "I take it you’re feeling back to your old self,

then?" she observed.

Anya nodded. "I’m now able to remain conscious for up to eight hours

straight," she agreed. "And I’ve already contacted all my professors to

find out how to make up all the work I missed."

Tara sighed. "That’s got to be a lot of work," she said sympathetically.

"You’ll be fighting with Willow over who has the least free time."

"Actually, it’s not too bad," Anya shrugged. "I missed a couple of review

weeks for the material in econ 120s, so I’m not actually that far behind.

I fully intend to be caught up by eighth week."

"Just don’t overtax yourself," Tara advised. "You don’t want to have

a relapse."

"Overtaxing equals orgasms," Cordelia couldn’t help but tease. "So,

none of those."

Anya and Xander both sulked before turning back to their food…

* * *

Willow jumped in surprise when a hand rested on her shoulder. Holding

her hand over her heart to steady its erratic thumping and gasping for

breath, she swiveled around on the lab stool to see Oz as the source of

her recent trauma. "Don’t do that!" she exclaimed, finally beginning

to calm down.

"Sorry." Oz shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and Willow frowned. She’d

never known Oz to be the nervous type, but right now he looked like the

poster boy for anxiety disorder…well, really, really mellow anxiety disorder,

at least. The circles under his eyes indicated that he hadn’t been getting

nearly enough sleep, and his messed hair and rumpled clothes hinted at

the duration of this concern.

"Are you all right?" she asked hesitantly. She hadn’t exactly seen Oz

in the past month or so, what with all her work, so she didn’t know how

permanent this situation was.

"Can I talk to you?" he requested. His eyes darted around to the other

three students in the lab. "Alone."

Willow bit her lip at how this would make her report even more late,

but this seemed to be an official RA thing. Her prof would have to understand

that. "Yeah, sure," she agreed. "We can go in one of the empty classrooms."

She jangled her key ring for the bio building up for emphasis.

The walk down the hallway was made in complete silence. And not just

‘normal Oz’ complete silence. More like ‘impending doom’ complete silence.

Willow began to grow steadily more worried as she unlocked a random classroom

and they went inside.

Checking to make sure the door was firmly closed behind them, Oz breathed

a sigh of relief. "I’m in really serious trouble," he admitted, a distressed

expression on his face.

Willow sat down on one of the desks, facing him. "What happened?" she

demanded, concerned.

"You know Veruca, right?"

She nodded.

"Well, we’ve been hanging out a lot lately. Or, we were," he corrected.

"Way too much."

"And this is…bad?" Willow guessed.

"She seemed OK at first. A little weird, but OK."

OK, Oz was rambling now. That had to be one of the seven signs of the

apocalypse. "Oz, what’s going on?" she demanded.

He sighed. "Last weekend we went to this party and… Well, I got a little

drunk and a little high. I kind of don’t exactly remember what happened.

But the next morning I wake up next to Veruca in a basement, and she tells

me…" He trailed off, actually embarrassed for once.

"You slept with her?" Willow provided.

He nodded. "But that’s not it. She said… You heard about what happened

to Professor Simmonds’ house?"

Willow nodded numbly. The burglary/arson had been in all the local and

campus papers, as well as on all the news channels.

"She’s says that we’re the ones who did it," he admitted nervously.

"Oh my god…" Willow was stunned speechless. It was too impossible to

be true. Surely, not Oz…

"Willow?" Oz asked anxiously.

"Oh my god," she repeated, still stunned. "Why? How? Professor Simmonds

is so cool…"

"I know," Oz agreed sadly. "Apparently, he found out that Veruca had

cheated on one of her papers and she wanted revenge. I was a bit too shocked

to fully pay attention, really."

"And you helped her?" Willow still couldn’t believe it.

"Apparently, I threw the brick through the window that got us in, and

I helped her carry some of the stuff we stole," he agreed.

"Why?" she repeated.

"I don’t know!" he exclaimed, frustrated. "I don’t even remember any

of this. But she’s really good with the suggestibility. It wouldn’t surprise

me to learn that she was capable of tricking me while I admittedly wasn’t

exactly in control of all my faculties."

Willow nodded numbly. "This is bad," she decided. "This is really, really

bad…"

"Yeah, I sort of figured that." Oz managed his usual wry smile.

"What are you going to do?" Willow wanted to know.

"See, that’s the problem," he sighed. "I’m torn. I know I should

turn myself in, but…"

Willow nodded sympathetically. "If you explain how it happened…" she

began. "I mean, it sounds like it was all Veruca’s idea."

"I don’t want to go to jail." His voice sounded small, frightened.

"Maybe I should talk with Catherine…" Willow said thoughtfully. Off

of Oz’s look, she clarified, "She’s the head of housing. I’ll give her

a generic, anonymous situation and ask her what would be the best way to

handle it. Does that work for you?"

He nodded. "It’s better than nervously wandering about campus, wondering

if I left behind some evidence that the police will use to find me."

Willow gave him a reassuring smile. "We’ll find a way to keep you out

of jail," she promised, her resolve face firmly in place.

He gave her a quick nod, his expression already more relaxed now that

he’s finally gotten that off of his chest. "You finishing up in the lab?"

he inquired.

She shook her head. "Nah. I haven’t eaten all day. Wanna head to dinner

with me?"

"Sure," he agreed, and together they left the bio building and headed

for Westing Hall.

What they didn’t see was Veruca watching them from the far side of the

courtyard. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Willow laugh at something Oz

said before she slipped between the buildings, vanishing into the night…

* * *

"God, you’re such a freak!" Elizabeth giggled, batting away the

Washcloth Monster that was trying to nibble at her throat.

Spike rolled his eyes, though the effect was rather lost since she couldn’t

see him from where he was sitting behind her in the large tub. The hand

covered by a green washcloth so that it looked vaguely like a gaping mouth

turned back to face her, and the Washcloth Monster dove in for another

attack. "Take it back," he teased, holding her steady in his lap as she

thrashed so that the sudsy water wouldn’t splash onto the floor. "Jus’

take it back and ‘ll call off my evil minion. Or else…" The Washcloth Monster

snapped its fuzzy green jaws twice menacingly.

She giggled and squirmed some more in his arms, loving the feel of their

bodies pressed together, wet and warm and covered with sweet-smelling bubbles.

"You are a freak, honey," she informed him defiantly before she

turned back to face him, her expression softening. "But I wouldn’t have

it any other way…"

Their lips met in a brief kiss, and she turned in his arms so that she

could run her hands up and down his chest, running hot soapy water over

his bare flesh in the process. "Mmm," she sighed, resting her head in the

crook of his shoulder. "Remind me why we haven’t done this before?"

"’Cause Mum and Dad wander in an’ out of here all the time when they’re

home?" he suggested.

She pouted. "You need your own personal bathtub," she decided.

"Shall I get myself a Jacuzzi with that?" he teased. "A sauna?"

"Yeah," she agreed with a smile, "and while you’re at it, an Olympic-sized

pool would be nice…"

"We don’t need that much room," he scoffed.

"Don’t we?" she asked coyly, twirling around her finger one of the strands

of hair that had fallen loose from where she’d tied it up to keep it from

getting too wet.

He smiled at that and leaned in to nibble on her lower lip.

She let him for a minute before pulling away and turning in his arms

once more. "Much more comfortable this way," she announced, sitting down

between his legs once more and leaning back on his chest. Her hip relaxed

now that it was no longer pressed uncomfortably into the porcelain.

He nodded in agreement, and the Washcloth Monster dissolved once more

as he continued to scrub her body. "Don’t think I don’t remember what you

got away with last night," he teased good-naturedly.

Elizabeth was stumped at that. "Huh?" she inquired, hissing in delight

when the washcloth ventured between her thighs.

"You were s’posed to tell me somethin’ about yourself that I din’t know,"

he clarified.

"Oh, yeah," she remembered, a sly smile creeping upon her face. "I guess

we got a bit…distracted last night…"

He chuckled that deep, husky chuckle of his against the nape of her

throat. "Unless you’re plannin’ on being distractin’ again, I wanna hear

this," he informed her.

She bit her lip, building up her courage before she turned to face him

once more. Her eyes met his startlingly blue ones, and she made sure to

hold his gaze as she began to speak. "I-" she began.

They both groaned at the interruption.

"Gotta get that," he informed her. "Mum’s expectin’ a call…"

She shifted and allowed him to get up out of the bathtub, cursing at

the horrible timing.

"All right already!" Spike shouted at the offending telephone as he

quickly toweled himself off. "’m coming."

Elizabeth leaned back in the tub and happily watched his sexy ass as

he ran out of the room to get the phone. She soon heard muffled words from

the master bedroom and turned her attention to the bubble bath before her

for entertainment while she waited for Spike to return.

She’d managed to create a rather amusing, vaguely bunny-shaped formation

out of the bubbles by the time he returned. She greeted him with a smile…and

then a frown when she noticed his worried expression and the cordless phone

he still held in one hand.

"For you," he provided. "’S the Nibblet."

Unable to think of any reason why Dawn would call her here, Elizabeth

took the phone. "Dawn, what’s up?" she asked, slightly alarmed.

Frantic teen-speech whispered from the receiver into Elizabeth’s ear.

Elizabeth blinked for a second, and then: "You told him what?!"

Ooh, Elizabeth's dad finally knows... I bet no one saw that coming from 20 chapters back. ~_^ As usual, review for more or else I'll sic the Washcloth Monster on you, naked Spike not attached. See? Told you I was evil. ^_^




Chapter Thirty-Three

Elizabeth had been sitting in her and Willow’s old room, waiting anxiously, when the call had finally come. It had not been a fun weekend. Spike had been quite grouchy that his romantic plans had been all for naught, and Elizabeth had been acting as though there were a death sentence upon her. It didn’t help that after Dawn’s first, desperate call of warning, they’d been unable to get hold of her again. Apparently, the teen hadn’t been lying when she’d said that she’d had to sneak out of being grounded to make the call to Elizabeth.

Thus, when the phone finally rang, it was a welcome relief that this situation would finally be dealt with, while still the fulfillment of a deep-seated dread.

"Hi?" Elizabeth said into the receiver hesitantly.

"Buffy, is that you?" Hank didn’t sound happy. He sounded like he was about to make a hostile take-over.

Elizabeth suddenly wondered about the wisdom of not having Spike present for this. The comfort of his touch would undoubtedly have done her wonders. "Yeah, daddy, it’s me," she agreed with false cheer.

"I’m surprised I didn’t get that roommate of yours," Hank commented off-handedly. "Willa, or whatever."

"Willow," Elizabeth corrected, mildly annoyed despite the trouble she was in.

"And what kind of name is that, anyway?" he demanded. "Sounds like some flower-child hippie-"

"Her mom’s a woman’s right activist and political science professor," Elizabeth corrected the misconception.

Hank really didn’t care. "Still, glad I finally found you in your room. Been working a lot lately, have we?"

"Midterms aren’t until right before spring break," she informed him. "But, yeah, I’ve got a lot of readings, and-"

"How about that econ class you were taking?" Hank pressed.

Elizabeth bit her lip. Now, she’d never exactly told him she was taking econ, but it had been implied. "I, uh, kinda didn’t keep that class," she admitted nervously.

There was silence on the other end of the line. "I see," he said finally.

"It was just that there was this other class," she hastened to explain, "and I’m already taking calculus, so I thought-"

"Did you?" Hank interrupted her. "Did you bother to think at all?"

Elizabeth’s face paled at that. "D-Daddy?" she began, her voice weak.

"I think we need to have a talk about your future, young lady," Hank informed her in a stern tone. "Several things have come to my attention as of late, and I am not at all pleased with the way you’ve been carrying on."

"B-But I’m doing really well!" Elizabeth insisted, almost in a panic. "I had perfect grades last semester!"

"Your grades are not the issue here," Hank countered. "You’ve been behaving like a child, ignoring everything I’ve gone through for your own good and-"

"That’s not fair!" she cut him off with a petulant tone.

"You do not interrupt me, Buffy," he informed her with a stern voice. "And you know I’m right about this. I should’ve known better than to give you so much leeway in college. There are all sorts of temptations that-"

"I can take care of myself," she pouted.

"You have made it eminently clear that you cannot," he countered with a sigh. "I suppose I’ll have to take matters into my own hands…" The sound of flipping papers sounded in the background. "I’ve got a meeting in New York City this coming Thursday," he finally decided. "I’ll stop by your campus after that, and we can meet, straighten a few things out."

Elizabeth felt her composure rapidly disintegrating. All she wanted to do now was to get off the phone before she burst out into tears. "Yes, daddy," she agreed.

"Good. I’ll have Tracy call you and set up our appointment," he agreed. "And you’d better be willing to listen, then."

"Yes, daddy," she sighed.

A smile crossed Hank’s face. "That’s my little Buffy," he said approvingly, in a tone that was designed to make her feel better but fell well short of the mark. "Don’t worry, pumpkin. Daddy still loves you."

"Love you, too," she agreed, forcing back tears.

"All right then, bye, Buffy."

"Bye, daddy."

The instant she hung up the phone, Elizabeth burst out sobbing.

* * *

Oz had never been more terrified in his life. In fact, as far as he could remember, he’d never been terrified in his life. However, now, facing something not even he could quite comprehend that he’d done, to someone he greatly respected, his future completely on the line… Yeah, he was terrified.

Professor Simmonds blinked, removed his glasses, cleaned them thoroughly, and replaced them on the bridge of his nose, only to remove them for cleaning once more. It was a professor thing.

"I don’t even know what to say," he finally sighed, setting down the glasses on the desk for a minute. "I never for one second thought… That this was something so malicious…" He seemed quite thoroughly stunned speechless.

"I wish I could justify it to you," Oz agreed, "but I can’t. There’s no excuse, and I can’t believe that I would…" He trailed off, also not knowing what to say for once.

Professor Simmonds sat stunned. Oz sat frightened. Catherine Engles, head of housing, looked back and forth between the two of them both nervously and hopefully. For what she’d heard, Oz really hadn’t intended any harm. She herself was a bit torn about how much blame to put on the young man. Getting himself into such a position in the first place was obviously an error in judgment, but not a criminal charge like those he would be facing if he were turned in to the police.

"You were in my Civics class, weren’t you?" Professor Simmonds finally spoke up.

Oz nodded numbly. "I really liked it," he added.

"One of the best students, as I recall," Simmonds sighed. "Veruca…was not."

Oz’s gaze flickered down to his hands. He felt really and truly lousy right about now.

"You realize that this is an offense punishable by jail time," Simmonds commented.

"Yes," Oz agreed dejectedly.

"I had honestly thought it was a mistake that my house was hit," Simmonds went on. "The police asked me if I had any enemies, and I told them no. I even considered the possibility that it was a random attack. Those ‘hoodlums’ everyone seems so afraid of, or some such nonsense. But, that students of mine would…" He shook his head. "It’s almost unbelievable."

"True, though," Oz said apologetically. "I only remembered scattered bits and pieces of that night, but… True."

"Did you know it was my house?" Simmonds asked suddenly.

Oz looked up at him in surprise. "No," he insisted. "She didn’t tell me. I think I mentioned to her once that I liked you. She was probably afraid that I would back out…"

"And would you have?" Simmonds inquired.

Oz sighed. "That night? I was pretty out of control. Not thinking straight…"

"That’s not an answer to my question," he pointed out.

"No," Oz agreed. He took a deep breath. "I honestly don’t know if I would’ve still done it," he admitted ruefully.

Simmonds nodded. "Honesty. That’s something, at least."

"Mr. Osborne has been very cooperative with the Housing Office," Catherine spoke up for the first time since Oz made his confession. "We honestly don’t feel that he had any malicious intent."

Oz didn’t even dare to look at Professor Simmonds at that.

"Neither do I," Simmonds surprised him. Off of Oz’s shocked expression, he managed a wan smile. "The police have no leads. You were in no danger of being caught. The instigators of such incidents are virtually never the ones to come forward in these situations. If they had the guilt, they wouldn’t have committed the crime in the first place."

Oz nodded. "I vaguely remember that," he agreed with a slight smile.

"Besides," Simmonds said wearily, "I don’t think I could bear to send a student to prison. Even under circumstances such as these. I suppose I shall have to drop any charges…"

"Thank you, sir," Oz mumbled, slightly guilty that he was getting out of this so easily.

"That doesn’t preclude the two of you from reprimands within the college, though," Simmonds pointed out.

"Agreed," Oz sighed with a nod.

"I can’t imagine Veruca getting off with anything less than expulsion." Simmonds shook his head. "Frankly, I’d wondered a couple of times if that young woman was a little psychotic. You should have seen the number she did on the boy whose paper she cheated of off - also one of my better students," he commented, more intrigued by this statement that judgmental.

"She’s got a…free, pure way about her," Oz tried to explain.

Simmonds nodded. "Most psychotics do," he agreed. Closing up his briefcase with a sigh, he moved to stand up. "I’ll be reporting this incident to the board of directors, naturally. You will probably have to go before them."

Catherine nodded, taking over her position as Oz’s defense once more. "Do you plan to make any recommendations?" she pressed.

"I’ll inform them that I, personally, place the majority of the blame on Veruca," he replied before turning back to Oz. "I would advise you to tell them what you told me. I trust that they will have an appropriate response."

"Thank you, sir," Oz repeated. "And I am sorry about what I did."

"You should be," were Simmonds’ parting words.

"Well, that went pretty well," Catherine commented after he was gone. "At least you’re not facing serious jail time."

"Simmonds is cool like that," Oz agreed…

* * *

"Anyanka!" Spike exclaimed in surprise and delight. "You’re awake."

"I’ve been up and about for four days now," she said pointedly. "Not that you would’ve noticed given that you were busy off having orgasms. Oh, and don’t call me ‘Anyanka’."

He laughed and gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "How’re you feelin’, luv?" he asked softly.

She sighed. "Still kinda crummy," she admitted, "but I’m getting caught up on all my back work, and I even plan to attend a class on Thursday."

"Don’t overwork yourself," he advised, plopping down on Xander’s bed. "So where’s your doting boyfriend?" he inquired.

"Oh sure," she said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. "Just pretend you’re interested in my health and then go all on about Xander. It’s all right, you know. You don’t have to pretend." She gave him an amused little smile.

He smiled back, and his eyes softened. "Missed you, luv," he assured her. "However, Harris and I need to do some serious ‘guy talk’."

"Ooh!" Anya exclaimed in sudden delight, clapping her hands together. "Does it have to do with penises? Because that’s a personal interest of mine…"

Spike started at her in stunned disbelief before he remembered who this was. "Some of the things that come out of your mouth, pet…" He shook his head in awe.

Anya pouted. "You can tell me," she assured him, "since Xander’s not here and all."

"Where is ‘e, anyway?" Spiked wondered, looking about the room as if he expecting to find Xander crouching behind the wastebasket or something.

Anya sighed. "He and Cordy are doing a ‘scene rehearsal’," she explained. "It’s about all the two of them do these days. I mean, honestly, you would think that wanna-be actors would have warning labels on them or something."

Spike lifted a scarred eyebrow in her direction. "Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Cordy?" he asked in disbelief.

"Not exactly jealous," Anya corrected, "just a greedy, selfish girlfriend who wants to monopolize all his time."

"’Least you’re straightforward about it," he commented, pulling out a cigarette.

Anya stood up and snatched it from his fingers deftly. "It’s time for The Get Spike To Quit Smoking Campaign number seventeen," she announced. "Everyone else has been very negligent in my absence."

He groaned but provided his pack of Dunhills into her waiting hand.

"Now," she went on, closing the tempting pack into one of Xander’s drawers where Spike couldn’t see it, "tell me all about this guy talk." She sat down in the armchair across from him, hands folded in her lap expectantly.

"Can’t tell you!" he insisted vehemently. "’s guy stuff!"

"Oh puh-leeze!" Anya batted one hand in the air dismissively. "You guy talked with me about Drusilla all the time."

"Yeah, because I was drunk!" he insisted.

Anya’s look of conviction didn’t waver in the slightest.

"Oh bugger!" he exclaimed in defeat. "Fine," he finally agreed, "but none ‘f this gets back to Cordy, right?"

"Every word," Anya promised the opposite with an evil grin.

Spike banged his head against the headboard in frustration. "You’re a wicked, wicked woman," he informed her with a scowl.

"I know," she agreed happily. "Now, on with the penises."

"Sorry to disappoint you, luv, but this has nothin’ to do with penises," he informed her.

"You’re a guy," she countered. "Everything has to do with your penis. Now, go on."

He gave her an annoyed look but did as she requested. "What does it mean when you tell a girl you love ‘er, but she doesn’t say it back?" he wondered.

"That she doesn’t love you back," Anya said matter-of-factly before her eyes widened at the implications of that. "You love Elizabeth?" A smile lit up her face. "That’s great! That’s…" The smile turned to a frown. "She doesn’t feel the same way?" she asked, concerned.

"Says she doesn’t really know what love is," he shrugged. "Wants me to explain it to her all nice and neat so she can determine if that’s what she feels or not."

Anya’s frown increased. "That sounds like an excuse to me," she commented.

He sighed. "Yeah."

"Have you talked to her about this?"

He shrugged.

Anya rolled her eyes. "What does that mean?"

"I don’t wanna…" He struggled for words, hands gesticulating in the air erratically. "…y’know, pressure her. Don’t want her to say she feels somethin’ she doesn’t just ‘cause she thinks I want her to say it."

Anya looked at him askance. "Ah, the wishy-washy, too-sensitive-to-say-what’s-actually-on-my-mind technique," she said sarcastically. "Yeah, that one works real well."

"The couple ‘f fights we’ve had," he clarified, "she completely freaked out."

"Fights are necessary for wonderful make-up sex," Anya stated one of her favorite truisms.

Spike managed an amused smile at that. "She seems to think ‘s the sign of the apocalypse."

Anya stared at him in disbelief. "Hello? You two fought nonstop before you got together. Hell, it’s natural for you to have your little spats."

"Not exactly pleasant, though, are they?" he countered.

"No, but you don’t deal with all this stuff, it’s going to get a lot worse," she pointed out. "She was obviously attracted to that whole Big Bad thing, so she shouldn’t complain when you’re just being honest, even if she doesn’t agree with you."

"Actually, she’s more attracted to the Sweet Boyfriend thing," he clarified.

Anya gave him a skeptical look. "Please, she saw the leather and the bleach, and she went ‘Yum! Gotta get me some of that!’"

He chuckled at Anya’s imitation of Elizabeth’s hair swish. "Don’t think she’d quite see it that way," he sighed.

"If she wanted straight-laced and boring, she would have stuck with Finn," Anya insisted. "But she didn’t want that. She wanted you, although god only knows why," she teased.

"What is this?" he scowled. "Emasculate Spike Day?"

"When is it ever not Emasculate Spike Day?" she giggled.

"Anyanka…"

"William," she shot right back.

He let it pass. "Whattaya think I should do?" he demanded instead.

Anya bit her lip and considered this for a while. "Wait on it," she finally decided.

He groaned.

"I’m serious!" she insisted. "This is no time for that infamous impatience of yours."

"But ‘ve been waiting for-"

"Not done yet!" she cut him off with a gentle thwack to the head. "Listen to me first and then you can talk. It will help you work on your waiting skills!" she concluded in an intentionally too-perky tone.

He narrowed his eyes but kept his lips zipped.

"Now," Anya began with all the pomposity of a distinguished lecturer, "it seems to me that Elizabeth is generally pretty unsure about what she wants or feels. She got involved with Riley because he was there, and even though she wasn’t really interested, she just stuck around because she was too indecisive about what to do."

Spike’s eyes widened in alarm at that, but Anya cut him off before he could speak.

"No, I do not think that she’s in the same situation with you," she hurried to reassure him. "She’s definitely interested - was even back while Riley was still in the picture. She knew she liked you, but again she was indecisive. If you hadn’t pursued her, I doubt anything ever would’ve happened between the two of you."

Spike thought on that for a second, but came to no real conclusion. He began to shake his head…

"Who would you characterize as the ‘pursuer’ in your relationship?" Anya pointed out. "Who asked who out first? Who initiated your first kiss? Who initiated your first sexual encounter?"

"Oi, now, that last one," he interrupted. "That was both ‘f us. Sorta a spontaneous sexual combustion situation."

Anya grinned. "Knew you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for one minute," she teased before continuing. "OK, so that part was both of you. But you seem to be the one that’s fallen in love first. Ergo, without you, things never would’ve gotten off the ground."

"Maybe," he conceded.

"And that’s why you just have to wait," Anya concluded. "Everyone who sees the two of you together instantly knows how happy you are. It’s really only a matter of time until she realizes what that really means. And, just out of curiosity, when did you first tell her you loved her?"

"Right before we came back this term," he answered.

"It took you that long to fully realize your feelings, and you honestly can’t believe that it might take her just a bit longer?" Anya asked pointedly.

He nodded. "Got me there," he realized.

"Give her the chance to lead a bit," Anya advised. "Keep helping her to finally admit how she feels about you, but your instinct is good - don’t push her. But don’t hide how you feel about all this, either."

"Thank you, Oprah," Spike teased.

"Humph." Anya crossed her arms over her chest in an offended manner. "What brought on this dire mood in you anyway?" she wondered.

" ‘Daddy’s coming to town this Friday," Spike provided.

Anya’s eyes widened. "Quick, tie her down and get her pregnant before she can ditch you!" she exclaimed, trying not to laugh.

He gave her an annoyed scowl. "Have I mentioned lately how much I hate you?"

"Not since last semester."

"I hate you," he clarified, sticking his tongue out at her.

She stuck her tongue out back.

* * *

Tara gave Elizabeth’s hand an encouraging squeeze.

Elizabeth managed a small smile in response and looked around the crowded campus café. "I don’t think I can do this," she insisted, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

"He’s just your father," Tara insisted. "It’s not like he’s going to kill you." Her brow furrowed for a second. "Unless he happens to collect shotguns. In which case, it’s probably good to tell him that you’re a lesbian Wiccan who’s never, ever coming home again over the telephone. It’s always a good idea to be in non-lynching states when conversations like that occur…"

Elizabeth chuckled. "I’m pretty sure lynching is illegal," she pointed out.

Tara shuddered. "You obviously haven’t met my family," she countered.

Elizabeth gave her an apologetic smile, took a deep breath, and shifted nervously once more. "Why couldn’t he just keep it up with the whole absentee father bit?" she wondered, biting her lip. "I mean, the one time I actually don’t want him in my life, and suddenly he’s all intruding?"

"Control freak?" Tara suggested.

"Much," Elizabeth agreed. She felt a shiver of tension run through her spine. "God, I can’t do this," she repeated for the umpteenth time.

"You’re sure you don’t want Spike to be here?" Tara asked kindly. "It might be easier if you two presented a united front."

Elizabeth laughed. "My dad may not own a shotgun, but he’d manage to miraculously pull one out of the ether if he ever saw Spike," she declared. "Either that, or he’d call a mob hit."

"You’re exaggerating," Tara informed her. "No one’s going to kill anyone. And I really think it might make you feel better if-"

"Thanks, but no thanks," Elizabeth insisted with a weary smile. "Adding Spike to the mix is just likely to make my dad crazier."

"Spike already seems to be a part of your ‘mix’," Tara pointed out kindly.

But Elizabeth didn’t hear her. At that moment, her eyes locked on the slightly pudgy, middle-aged man that had just walked into the café, briefcase in one hand. Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt, she nervously took one step forward.

"Buffy!" Hank exclaimed in delight when he saw her.

Elizabeth winced at the use of the hated nickname in front of the campus population. "Daddy," she agreed with a ghost of a smile…

Chapter Thirty-Four

"Buffy." Hank caught her up in a brief hug before backing off and looking at her. A frowned marred his brow. "Gained a lot of weight, haven’t you?" he pointed out.

Elizabeth’s face flushed. Yeah, she had put on about fifteen pounds, but she was nowhere near overweight. More like at her normal weight, actually, since she’d had to keep herself dangerously thin for cheerleading. She had worried about it now and again, but Spike had always assured her that he liked the curves. This was the first time she’d ever felt really self-conscious about it, though.

She managed a nervous laugh. "Freshman ten, you know?" she pointed out.

Hank tisked her lightly. "You know you should’ve kept up with the cheerleading," he informed her.

"I still do Tae Kwon-Do," she offered. "Every week." Plus, the marathon sex sessions more than make up for the exercise lost…

Hank shook his head. "I never could figure out why you’d want to do something so…unladylike…" He sighed and looked around the café. "It’s a bit…lower class, isn’t it?" He scanned the crowd of studying and chatting college students.

Elizabeth bit her lip. That was actually why this was her favorite café on campus - more the type of place the Westing House crowd would hang out in instead of the Tri Xi group. Mentally, she cringed when she saw her father appraise a young man in a torn black T-shirt with bright blue hair. Yeah, definitely a good idea I didn’t let him get a look at Spike…

"What do you say we go somewhere a bit more…appropriate?" Hank suggested.

Elizabeth sighed. "There’s an Italian restaurant about two blocks away," she agreed.

"Great," Hank agreed with a grin, "I can show off the rental I got for only half the original price…"

Elizabeth shot Tara a look indicating that everything was all right for now, and Tara nodded in response before turning back to the dorm. It looked like Elizabeth was completely on her own now. Tara, in a very un-Tara-like moment, contemplated the possibility of arranging an ‘accident’ for Elizabeth’s obviously overbearing and pompous father. Too bad she was such a nice person…

* * *

"You’re sure you don’t want a salad?" Hank repeated, looking up at her over his pasta. "It’ll be a treat on me."

"I’m not hungry," Elizabeth insisted, sipping at her water. "Gotta watch my weight, y’know."

Hank nodded approvingly. "I didn’t realize just how dismal the weather was around here," he commented. "With all the snow and the cold." He shuddered. "Give me 75 and sunny all year round," he joked lightly.

Elizabeth managed a smile. "Actually, I don’t mind it so much," she admitted. "The snow can be a lot of fun. And it’s kind of amazing just how much the weather can change from day to day."

Hank gave her a bright smile. "That’s my Buffy - always seeing the silver lining."

Elizabeth managed a tight smile. "I do go by Elizabeth now," she pointed out.

Hank sighed. "Elizabeth." The word sounded sour coming from his mouth. "Right."

Elizabeth bit her lip before taking another sip of her water. "How’d your meeting go?" she decided to delay the upcoming confrontation.

Hank wasn’t going to give her such an easy out. "Fine," he said dismissively. "Look, Buffy," he began, "I think we need to have a serious talk about your future."

Elizabeth held her breath. "Yeah?" she ventured nervously.

"Now, I understand that things can get a little wild in college," Hank assured her. "All the new people and the new things to do - it can be very distracting. However, it’s absolutely no reason to throw away everything you have."

"I’m not throwing away anything," Elizabeth insisted.

Hank cut her off. "Just hear me out," he instructed her before settling into lecture mode once more. "You have a very bright future in front of you, young lady. You’ve got an important family, the best business contacts imaginable, your choice of all the upcoming wealthy bachelors, and a chance to earn yourself a valuable degree that will ensure your success in the future. In short, you have everything, Buffy. Which is why you can’t afford to be so callous."

"But I’m not-"

"Let me finish," Hank repeated. "You obviously haven’t been thinking about the long-term since you got to college, and - like I said - I can understand how you might be distracted. However, just because something else has caught your eye doesn’t mean you drop all your options. And you certainly don’t start lying to me about it. I’m very disappointed in you, young lady. I thought I had taught you better than that." He shook his head sadly.

Elizabeth bit back the impulse to tell him that he hadn’t taught her anything because he’d never been around in the first place. "It isn’t like that," she insisted.

"It may not seem like it to you," Hank conceded, "but in the long run you’ll realize that I was right."

"But you understand," she continued, "Spike’s-"

"Not the issue we’re discussing at the moment," Hank informed her. "What I really care about are these ‘phantom classes’ you may or may not be taking. If you don’t start progressing towards your major soon, you could very well end up being one of those losers that are trapped at college for years."

Oz is not a loser! Elizabeth wanted to shout, but she held her tongue. "It’s my first year," she countered. "I’m not even allowed to declare my major yet!"

"Nevertheless, there’s no reason not to start. You have to prepare for any possible future difficulties. That’s how one survives in this world, Buffy," he lectured her, "by being prepared for the future. Why, if you took a couple of classes now, you could probably even graduate in three years. That would save you time and me money."

"But I like it here," Elizabeth insisted. "I don’t want to leave a year early!"

"That’s your prerogative, I suppose," Hank sighed at his daughter’s lack of ambition. Sometimes he wondered how they could even be related. "But it’s an option you want to keep open. And that’s what thinking about your future’s all about."

"I’ve still got plenty of time," Elizabeth insisted, "and…" She took a nervous gulp. "What if I decide I don’t wanna be an econ major? Then taking all those classes will just be a waste of time."

Hank raised an eyebrow at that. "And what, pray tell, would be your major then?" he inquired. "’Cause if you’re thinking of something like law…" He gave her a kind smile. "I don’t really think that’s where your…ahem, abilities lie…"

Elizabeth felt her heart constrict. She hadn’t even been considering that, of course, but just the fact that he didn’t think she was smart enough to try… She forced herself to be composed and dared to tell the truth. "Actually, I was thinking of art."

"Art?!" Hank exclaimed in disbelief. "What kind of job are you going to get from a degree in art?!"

"Giles and Joyce say that college isn’t about getting a job," Elizabeth insisted. "It’s about finding something that you love and exploring it. And I believe them."

"Giles and Joyce?" Hank’s brow furrowed. "They’re those professors Dawnie was going on about, right? The parents of this…boyfriend of yours?"

"Yes," Elizabeth admitted.

He let out a weary sigh. "They sound like decent enough people," he began, "but just look at them. They ended up as professors, for crying out loud! They know absolutely nothing about our world. You have actual potential, and I won’t let you throw it away because some academic types put some foolish ideas into your head."

"They’re not foolish!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"They are foolish," he shot right back. "Honestly, Buffy, do want to end up as some commoner? Having to work non-stop just to make enough to eat? You really want to be stuck living in some dingy apartment in the ghetto when you could have one of the mansions on Revello?"

"No," she admitted reluctantly.

"You’re better than all that," he insisted. "You can have it all if you would just take the time to work toward the future that - incidentally - I’ve worked very hard to set out for you. If I hadn’t managed your mother’s financial affairs so well, you’d be penniless right now. Which would mean no college at all. And if you don’t take these steps, you’re going to end up broke and desolate. And that’s not what you want."

"No," she agreed with a sigh.

"Good," Hank favored her with a smile. "Now, I want you to register for an economics class," he instructed.

"But it’s already fourth week!" she protested.

"You’re still allowed to add courses," he informed her. "I checked. I’m sure you’ll have some catching up to do, but no pain no gain, right?"

"I’m already taking four classes," she pointed out.

He nodded. "Two of them completely unnecessary," he commented. "Art and history won’t get you anywhere in life. Money will."

"You want me to drop?"

"I insist."

Elizabeth nibbled on her lower lip. "What if I refuse?" she ventured.

Hank’s gaze turned cold. "I’ve already paid your tuition for this semester," he informed her, "but I can easily withdraw it at my own leisure. You do not want to fight me on this, young lady."

Elizabeth flinched but couldn’t really argue with that.

"Now," Hank went on, "I’ve been talking with a Professor…" he scanned the numbers in his daily planner for a moment before he found the name, "Winston over in the econ department. He’s teaching 220 this semester. It doesn’t require any prerequisites, so you should be able to cut right in. And he’s agreed to fit you into his class…"

Elizabeth felt like her head was in a bit of a spin. God, her life was flip-flopping right before her eyes, and she couldn’t do anything to control it. It was not a pleasant feeling.

"So, if you just show up on Monday at 10:30-" he continued.

"That’s when my history class meets!" Elizabeth cut him off.

"Well, then, I guess that settles which class you’ll have to drop," Hank concluded, satisfied that everything had worked out so well.

"But I-" she began. That’s the class I have with Spike! With the flirting in class, and the casual brushes, and much goodness…

"You don’t really have much of a choice," Hank pointed out.

Elizabeth sighed.

"Don’t give me that look," he said angrily. "I think I’m being very reasonable here. After the way you lied to me, I seriously considered pulling you out of here and getting you enrolled at UC Sunnydale where I can keep a closer eye on you."

Elizabeth’s face paled at the thought of being separated from Spike and all her friends.

"Luckily for you, I’m still willing to give you the benefit of the doubt," Hank informed her. "You’re young and thus don’t think properly all the time. It’s inevitable. You’re very fortunate to have me looking out for you."

And before I came here, I would have agreed with you…except, oops!, you weren’t looking out for me then, were you? Elizabeth was angry and confused and frightened, and she didn’t know what to do.

"And my request is quite reasonable," he still sensed her reluctance and continued to sell his policy. "Technically, you’ve got two electives right now. I could make you use both for your major, but I won’t. After all, it’s still your life to live." He gave her hand a pat and flashed her a false, reassuring smile.

Funny, it sure doesn’t feel like it…

"Now, let’s talk about your plans for next year," Hank went on. "You’ll be a sophomore then, so I’ll be expecting a bit more out of you. From what I’ve gathered, you’ll have fulfilled all your core requirement courses by then, so you’ll have room for four electives. Am I right?"

"Uh, yeah," Elizabeth managed to nod numbly.

"I think we should stick to the same arrangement," he decided. "I’ll give you one free elective, and the other three you can use to fulfill your major. If all that works out well, then maybe I’ll cut you a bit more slack your junior year. All right?"

Elizabeth nodded numbly. That’s not so bad. Hell, it’s still a year away, and at least it will all be over in three more years…

"That’s my pumpkin," Hank said happily. He gave her a smile. "You’re going to be a somebody," he decided. "I can just tell."

I don’t want to be a somebody. I want to be me…

"So, are we good?" he asked.

She just nodded.

"I want a more definitive answer than that," he informed her.

"Yes, daddy," she agreed with a sigh.

"There’s an angel," he smiled before his expression hardened once more. "And don’t you ever try to lie to me about your classes again," he informed her sternly. "It may have taken me a while to catch on, but I do have an in at the registrar’s office now. And I’ll be keeping close tabs on you."

"I won’t do it again," she assured him.

"Great!" he exclaimed. "Now, is that all?" He checked his watch. "Because I want to stop by the office in Boston before I head on to London, and if I leave soon, I can catch an earlier flight which will give me extra time to prepare for my negotiations with ValCorp…"

Elizabeth blinked. "You’re not going to chew me out about Spike?" she asked in surprise.

Hank also blinked. "Why would I do that?" he wondered.

Now Elizabeth was thoroughly confused. "B-But I thought that was what this was all about," she insisted. "You finally found out about him and didn’t approve, and you were gonna come here and break us up."

Hank laughed at that. "Such an imagination," he scolded her good-naturedly before he addressed her concern. "Buffy, I’ve known about this ‘Spike’ of yours for ages. You two haven’t exactly kept a low profile, you know?"

"Well, no," she agreed.

"Which, really, might be a good idea," Hank said thoughtfully. "Nasty rumors about college stuff like that can come back to haunt you later." He chuckled again. "I should know, right?" He gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. "But if you’re not worried about your reputation, there’s not much else to discuss, really."

"You’re OK with me dating Spike?" Elizabeth said in disbelief.

"Well, maybe ‘OK’s a bit strong," he conceded, "but it’s to be expected."

"What’s to be expected?" Elizabeth asked, confused.

"Everyone does it," Hank assured her. "Just so long as you aren’t deluding yourself…"

"Deluding myself about what?" Elizabeth demanded. "What are you talking about?"

"Your little college fling," Hank explained patiently, in a voice similar to what one would use with a not particularly bright child. "It’s actually quite common. Nearly everyone I know took the opportunity to go slumming once or twice while they were in school. It’s really perfectly harmless."

" ‘Slumming’?" Elizabeth repeated, offended.

"That’s all that it is," he informed her, his voice deceptively soft. "Buffy, you’re going to go places in life. You can’t honestly think that this little relationship of yours is going to go anywhere. You’ve got a family, a future; this guy is just some punk."

She shook her head. "His parents-"

"Are very nice, important in whatever it is they do, I’m sure," he cut her off. "But they’re not ‘our people’, Buffy, and they never will be."

"Mom married you, and you were a ‘commoner’," she shot back.

Hank gave her a patient smile. "Yes, but I actually worked my way up through the world and made something of myself," he pointed out. "This boyfriend of yours has no such drive. He’ll end up just like his parents, trapped in a middle-class existence until the day he dies."

"And that’s so bad?" Elizabeth sighed.

He let out a weary sigh. "I’m sure it’s just fine," he conceded, "for him. But you’re so much better than that. Not even Dawnie has the same advantages you do…"

Read: Dawnie’s mom wasn’t from a rich family, so Dawn’s not as important as you, Elizabeth shuddered at the thought.

"Sorry to disillusion you, pumpkin," he patted her hand gently, "but these things just don’t work out. He knows you’re better, and it will drive a wedge between the two of you. It’s better you hear it from me now than learn from experience."

"He won’t leave me," Elizabeth said confidently.

"Maybe not," Hank’s patience was rapidly dwindling, and he kept checking his watch, "but eventually you’re going to wise up and realize that he’s holding you back. My advice: have your fun, and then cut him off before things get nasty."

A sick feeling was building in Elizabeth’s stomach at what her father was saying. As horrible as it was to hear, there was a hint of truth in there.

"I mean, what did you think would happen?" Hank asked. "That the two of you would get married? Raise a family?" He laughed at the absurdity of the notion.

Tears threatened to spill from Elizabeth’s eyes as the fantasy was shattered.

Hank’s expression softened when he noticed her reaction. "Oh, princess," he cooed softly, catching her in a brief hug, "I’m sorry. But you can’t honestly believe that you’re going to marry some guy named ‘Spike’. You’re pretty and wealthy. You could have anyone. You’ll see that I’m right. In the long run, this Spike will just be a wild memory of your more foolish years. Cherish it, but don’t ever forget that ultimately it’s not that important."

Elizabeth felt suddenly very, very cold.

"That a shiver I see?" Hank smiled. "Told you the weather was too cold here." He appraised her again. "You know, you might consider finding a tanning salon around here. You’ve gone a bit pale with the winter, and you want to keep up that golden tan." He winked. "Because you never know when the real Mr. Right will come along, and you’ll want to use your best assets."

"Yeah," she managed a weak ghost of a smile.

"Now, I want to catch that early flight," Hank checked his watch again. "Have a fun school year," he said his good-byes, "and enjoy your new class…"

Elizabeth watched him go and felt as though she was about to die of a heart attack, it was pounding in such a desperate rhythm within her chest. Just in that one visit, everything had suddenly changed. Her academic future was set in stone and completely beyond her control, and Spike was…

Still her boyfriend. She still had Spike, for now at least.

And how dare her father do this to her?! How could he just tear up everything she’d built here, and then vanish once more, leaving alone and with nothing? How could he govern her life and abandon her all in one fell swoop?

With a heavy heart, Elizabeth made her way back towards Westing House, pondering the uncertain future that lay before her…

* * *

"That bad, ‘ey?"

Spike had only had to look at the dire expression on Elizabeth’s face to know that the meeting with Hank hadn’t gone well.

"A severe beating," she sighed, sitting on the edge of their bed.

Spike inched closer to her. "Tell me about it?" he requested softly, twining one golden lock of her hair through his fingers.

She managed to smile slightly at the comforting touch. "He wasn’t too pleased about the whole major thing," she sighed.

"Not surprisin’," Spike agreed, pulling her further onto the bed and into his arms.

She snuggled up against him with a contented murmur, burying her head in his shoulder. "He threatened to cut off my tuition and make me go to UC Sunnydale," she admitted with a shiver.

His grip on her tightened as pain at the thought of losing her flashed through him. "What did you do?" he asked raggedly.

"Caved in," she answered, ashamed. "What else could I do?"

Spike bit his lip. She needed him to listen now, not come up with far-fetched suggestions. "So, what does that mean?" he pressed.

"I’m an econ major again," she said with a grimace. "I have to start taking this econ class dad picked out for me, starting on Monday."

"Monday?!" Spike repeated in disbelief. "You can’t just pick up a class now."

She let out a wry laugh. "Oh, believe me, I tried to explain that to him," she agreed. "He wouldn’t have any of it. That part’s not so bad, though…"

"Oh?" Spike asked in dread.

"Next year I have to take three econ classes," she provided.

Spike frowned. "You want me to bump this guy off?" he half-teased. "’d save you a lot ‘f trouble…"

She managed a small smile at that and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "My cuddly assassin," she teased softly, wrapping her arms around him tighter.

"All yours," he agreed, nuzzling her hair softly.

After a moment, Elizabeth pulled back. "I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and take it," she decided. "I can do that."

"You shouldn’t ‘ave to," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but short of getting my big fat ass dragged back to California, kicking and screaming, there’s not much else I can do."

He sighed. "Maybe you can get Anyanka to help you. Buddy up in classes or somethin’."

She nodded. "Sounds like a good plan," she agreed. "See?" She plastered a false smile on her face. "I can make this work."

"Was never any doubt about that, luv," he said with a shy smile.

"Huh?" She looked at him curiously. "Whattaya mean by that?"

"’S just…" His cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment, but he plunged on. "Gotta feelin’ you could do just about anythin’ you set your heart and your mind to…" He absentmindedly began playing with the corner of the coverlet, looking anywhere but at her.

A warmth suffused her body at that. "Thank you." She leaned in closer to him and brushed her lips across his once more. "I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said me. Which is impressive, since you’ve shot quite a few doozies my way."

He grinned at that. "So, I take it we’re still on?" he asked hopefully.

"Actually," she admitted, "he didn’t really care about us. And I was all set to refuse to break up with you, too."

"He din’t try to make me history?" Spike said in surprise.

"Nope," Elizabeth shook her head. "Apparently, you’re not interfering with this all-important future he’s got planned out for me."

"One ‘f these days, you’re gonna hafta knock the old man on his ass, you know," he pointed out gently.

She sighed. "I know," she agreed, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. "But not now. Not when I have so much to lose…"

Their lips met once more and lingered this time, carefully rediscovering the taste of the other as their bodies melded together, holding each other tightly.

"I love you," Spike whispered when they finally broke apart.

"I know," Elizabeth agreed softly, brushing back the persistent peroxide blond curl that fell onto his forehead. "Will you show me again?" she requested, tracing the outline of his face. "Will you make me forget this afternoon ever happened?"

"Gladly," he agreed before tackling her back onto the mattress and covering her body with kisses…

Chapter Thirty-Five

"You feelin’ all right, luv?" Spike asked, concerned, as he watched Elizabeth pick half-heartedly at her salad.

She managed a ghost of a smile. "Just not hungry," she insisted.

He frowned but didn’t want to comment while the rest of the house was present.

"How’re you liking Winston’s class?" Anya asked, trying to drag the unusually silent woman into the conversation.

"Fine," Elizabeth shrugged, dropping her fork onto her tray with a clatter. It was actually true. She didn’t hate the class; she just didn’t really feel any desire to take it, either.

"Nine out of ten for presentation!" Cordy abruptly exclaimed, still fussing over the A- she’d gotten on her project. "Can you believe that?!"

"We were way more presentable than everyone else," Xander agreed, sharing in her pain. "Although, technically, A-. Not exactly something you’re allowed to complain about…"

Cordy sighed. "My professor hates me and is out to get me," she decided. "It’s the only explanation."

"Professors do that, you know," Andrew piped up in his usual breathless staccato. "Like, they hear things about you, and then get these bad ideas and…" His mouth practically shut with an audible snap when he noticed everyone staring at him. "There was a Fox News Special about it, at least," he mumbled under his breath.

Spike chuckled at that. "Before or after the latest Hollywood sex scandal?" he demanded.

"Before," Andrew replied cheerfully. "But only because Drew Barrymore was one of the ‘victims’ that came forward…"

Cordelia let out an exasperated sigh. "Since when did my pain become a diatribe on the quality of Fox News?" she demanded sarcastically.

"Quite a while back," Anya informed her. "You really should try to keep up with the conversation."

"My pain!" Cordy explained theatrically. "Why must it always be mocked?"

"Because, frankly, ‘s pretty lame pain, luv," Spike felt obliged to point out.

Cordy scowled at him. "Elizabeth, you’re closer. You hit him."

Elizabeth looked up, somewhat startled, before obeying Cordy’s request and giving Spike a light whap on the arm.

"Ow!" he felt obliged to exclaim in response.

She rolled her eyes and cracked her first smile of the lunch at him in response. "Baby," she teased.

He chuckled at that before dangling a french fry over her water glass in a menacing manner.

She squealed and caught his hand, beginning an impromptu little play fight that had Xander and Cordy making kissy faces after only a few seconds.

"God, they need to get a room," Cordelia decided, shaking her head.

"They already have a room," Anya reminded her. "I think they need a room within their room."

"What?" Xander retorted sarcastically. "And miss the rousing nightly chorus of ‘oh god’s?"

The trio giggled at the expense of the bleached pair who remained quite thoroughly oblivious to what was being discussed around them. Elizabeth had now managed to take Spike’s cookie hostage and was holding it far out behind her in a move that encouraged his body to wrap around hers in his attempts to retrieve it. It was an opportunity Spike was taking full advantage of.

"So, yeah," Xander shook off the familiar sight and turned to one of the remaining sane members of the table. "Heard back from the Times yet?" he asked Devon.

The young man in question looked up from the newspaper in question that he had just happened to be reading intently and shook his head ruefully. "Not supposed to hear back until April," he said with an impatient sigh.

"S-Still," Jonathan managed to get out, "it’s cool that you trying and all. I mean…" He trailed off, embarrassed.

"Very cool," Cordy agreed, flashing Jonathan a reassuring smile.

"The local paper’s willing to sign me on for the summer if that doesn’t come through," Devon provided. "So it works either way."

Anya frowned. "Would you be staying in the dorm, then?" she wondered. "Because I hear it’s hard to just sublet for the summer."

Devon shrugged. "No need to worry about that too much yet," he pointed out. "But, yeah, I might have to move out."

"That’s no good," Xander insisted. "And what about Oz?"

Devon shook his head. "Haven’t seen Oz much this past month. So, no clue what he’s planning."

Xander’s attention turned to Elizabeth and Spike who had finally returned to eating - or not eating, in Elizabeth’s case - in peace. "You two are staying, though, right?" he demanded.

Spike nodded. "Stuck with all you losers for the long haul," he agreed.

"Hey!" several voices said at once, and suddenly Spike found himself pelted with french fries.

He sniffled in Elizabeth’s direction, but she just grinned at him. "You were so asking for that," she insisted. "There’s no way I’m helping you."

"And ‘s everyone against Spike once more," he sighed, taking a bite of his pizza before looking at it in surprise. "’S not covered in congealed animal fat today!" he cried in delight.

"Really?" Andrew looked over at him in amazement. "Is it good?"

"Edible," Spike decided after a moment’s hesitation.

Devon, Andrew, and Cordelia all looked down at the discarded ravioli on their plates before leaping up in unison to try out this new wonder that was ‘edible’ food.

"You can tell it’s winter," Anya commented with an amused smile as the three of them nudged each other out of the way in their effort to get to the pile of clean plates.

"It hasn’t actually been too crazy yet," Spike pointed out.

Elizabeth cast him an annoyed look.

"I mean, no one’s dropped out, an’ there haven’t been any screamin’ matches," he provided.

"You sure?" Elizabeth sighed. "’Cause I’m considering both at the moment."

"Have you caught up in class yet?" Anya inquired. "I found that the urge to destroy perishable items faded the instant I no longer had any back assignments."

Elizabeth groaned. "Only one extra problem set left," she agreed. "I don’t suppose you’re free this evening to help me?"

Anya gave her an apologetic smile. "Xander’s taking me out to the first of Cordy’s class plays," she said excitedly.

"Ooh, the first post-illness date," Spike joked lightly. "Gonna be extra loud tonight?"

"To make up for everything that you two have put me through," Anya retorted defensively.

Jonathan flushed bright red at all the sex talk.

Fortunately, Willow and Oz arrived at that moment to save him.

"Hey, our two house ghosts have arrived!" Xander announced jovially. "For a while there we thought the two of you were victims to Hell Semester, and no one had even bothered to tell us."

Willow tried to smile at that, but given the reality of Oz’s situation, it was a little hard to do.

The pair was instantly met with concerned looks.

"Somethin’ happen?" Spike asked, noticing both sets of drawn features.

Oz shrugged and sat down. "Might get expelled," he said in his usual dry monotone. "Nothing big."

Xander chuckled at Oz’s joke, and then frowned when he slowly began to realize that this wasn’t a joke. "Wait, you were kidding, right?" he demanded.

Oz grimaced. "I wish."

"How?"

"What?"

"Why?"

The flurry of questions all came out just as the wandering adventurers returned with the pizza they’d freed from the tyranny of the dining hall staff.

"What’s going on?" Devon asked, concerned.

Willow and Oz exchanged a look. "Pretty much everyone is here," she pointed out. "Except Tara." Her brow furrowed. "Where’s Tara?" she inquired. "She usually eats around now…"

"She hasn’t been around much this week," Elizabeth provided. "I think she’s got papers due."

Willow nodded before turning back to Oz. "Now’s as good a time…" she trailed off.

Oz nodded. There was no way the people he’d dropped that little admission to were going to let it pass, and soon everyone else would be trying to drag it out of him as well. "Veruca and I torched Simmonds’ place. She got expelled. I’m up before the board of directors today to see if I’m getting expelled, too."

Stunned silence filled the table at that.

"So, yeah, bye. In case I get kicked out," Oz finished.

"They can’t kick you out!" Cordy finally insisted, still in shock. "I mean, really, who hasn’t thought about burning down a professor’s house? Huh? Anyone?"

The hint of a smile turned up the edges of Oz’s lips. "Thanks," he nodded in her direction.

"Man, when did this all happen?" Devon asked, concerned that his friend hadn’t told him.

"A while back," Oz admitted. "I was kinda a fugitive for a while."

Spike batted one hand in the air dismissively. "They can’t kick you out," he insisted. "Even if they try, we’ll just let you back in."

"Y-Yeah," Willow agreed, an idea forming in her head, "I mean, they’ll probably kick you out of housing, but it’s not like they can close off Devon’s room from you."

"Thanks," Oz agreed, "but I want to hear the verdict before I figure out what I’m doing."

Elizabeth reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. "Are you all right?" she asked sincerely.

He gave his usual curt nod and finished up the pizza he’d wisely selected in record time. "Are we…?" he trailed off, casting an inquiring look in Willow’s direction.

"We’ve still got plenty of time," Willow informed him, checking her watch.

"Yeah, I know," Oz agreed, "but I’d…" He cast a nervous look at the faces around him. Obviously, his confession had been a bit more difficult than he’d let on. And even though no one seemed to be accusing him, he felt rather like some specimen in a zoo that everyone was staring at.

Willow sighed and plucked a Tupperware container from her backpack to ‘liberate’ her salad. The food and strategic pieces of silverware safely secured within her oh-so-innocent looking bag, she got up to leave. "Wish us luck," she requested.

"Good luck," everyone echoed in unison.

Oz and Willow practically fled the dining hall.

Everyone blinked.

"Well, that was sure…abrupt," Devon pointed out.

"Is anyone else wondering if that was just some random hallucination?" Xander wondered.

Anya, Cordy, and Spike all put up their hands in unison.

"Good, then at least it’s a mass hallucination," Xander managed a slight smile.

"Now I feel guilty," Elizabeth commented.

She got several quizzical looks in response.

"I mean, here I am griping about my life, and Oz’s worried about being expelled?" she clarified. "Makes my problems seem kind of pathetic."

"Welcome to the club," Cordy agreed.

"Th-They’re not really going to kick him out, are they?" Jonathan chimed in. "B-Because we could probably do something…" He trailed off.

"Got the decided feelin’ he wants to get through this on his own," Spike commented. "Not always the easiest choice to make, but sometimes necessary."

"Yeah, because you did so well getting through everything on your own," Anya retorted.

He winced at that. "’Least made me realize that there was no purpose in tryin’ while you two busybodies were meddlin’ in my life." He cast a fond/annoyed glance in Anya and Cordy’s direction.

"And learning to just cave in to us," Cordy agreed with a grin, "the most important lesson you’ll ever learn." She stared at the bottom of her orange juice. "Will you get me another glass?" she pleaded him, fluttering long, dark lashes in his direction.

Spike groaned in protest.

"I’ve got it," Xander assured him, taking the empty glass from Cordy’s hand and earning himself a wide smile for his efforts. He blushed in response.

Anya frowned. "Can you get me another apple, too?" she requested, trying to catch his attention.

"Huh?" He shook his head and turned to look at her.

"Apple," she repeated. "One of the green ones. And no bruises."

"Right. Sure thing, Ahn," he agreed before heading off, glass in hand.

Anya sighed but shook the thoughts from her head.

"Don’t worry so much about dear old dad," Cordy was reassuring Elizabeth. "Yeah, he’ll stick with the tough act for a little while, but he’ll cave in soon. Just pull the whole sweet little girl act with him next time you see him, and he’ll let you off the hook."

"That makes so much sense that I’m going to pretend that I’d already thought of it to save myself the embarrassment," Elizabeth agreed with a small smile. "Yeah, he never really has been very…consistent about anything."

"You should set a series of reasonable goals and then achieve them," Anya said brightly. "Start by seeing if you can get him down to two econ classes next year and take it from there."

"Or, alternately," Andrew nervously joked, "Jonathan and I could hack into the school’s computer and put false classes under your name."

Elizabeth laughed at that one. "Thanks," she agreed, "although I think Oz could use the hack job more than me…"

Everyone sobered at that again.

"Do we know when they’re getting back?" Anya wondered. "Because I want to know what happens."

"S’pose they’ll come back by the dorm when everything’s settled," Spike commented. "We’ll just hafta wait till then…"

* * *

"God, you make me feel so good," Elizabeth moaned, head thrashing back against the pillows as her thighs firmly held Spike’s head in place between them.

Not that he had any desire to stop, of course. He looked up at her with dreamy blue eyes, delighting in her pleasure. He wished she could always be like this, no pain, no worries, just bliss… He lowered his eyes to the task before him and nipped gently at her clit, twisting it slightly.

She gasped in response, and her knees turned into Jell-O, unconsciously releasing him. However, her hands quickly replaced her thighs, twining into his hair, savoring its softness…

A third finger pressed into her silken folds, spreading her open wide and striking that sensitive spot deep within her. He was always torn whether to draw this out and make her ecstasy last or to give her immediately what she so desperately craved. Immediately won out this time.

"Spike…" His name fell from her lips like a prayer.

Lazily, he crawled up her body, spooning up against her slight form. "You called, luv?" he whispered huskily.

"Why talk?" she pouted. "Want more."

He smiled at her mock-childish talk and rolled her over to face him. "My love," he said tenderly before capturing her lips with his own.

Elizabeth sighed and wrapped one leg over his hip, inviting his inside. Her hands traced the sharp contours of his face, while their lips explored and caressed, and she once again concluded that this man was unbelievably, breathtakingly beautiful…

Instinctively, their bodies joined, once more merging into one. Their intense kiss grew lazy, and they moved apart, just looking at each other and feeling the way her body held him so tight within her.

"You don’t feel guilty…?" she began.

"Never," he cut the thought off. "Never regret our happiness for a second."

"Never," she agreed softly, the fingers of one hand twining around his and guiding it to her breast.

He let out a gasping breath, causing them both to moan as he shifted within her. Ever since his entry, the two of them had remained still, just allowing their natural bodily rhythms to cause them to rock together.

"Tell me you love me," she requested softly, fingertips gliding down the sweat-slicked skin of his back.

"I love you," he assured her fervently. "God, I love you so much… I…" He trailed off helplessly, unable to convey the depths of his emotions with mere words. Instead, his lips met hers once more, and his hips began thrusting deep within her, starting the cascade of sparks throughout her body once more.

"You’re so beautiful," she sighed, "so perfect…"

And then his lips fully trapped hers, and there were no more words, no more thoughts, just wonderful, heated oblivion…

"You know," she commented with a gasp when their bodies had finally broken apart, "technically, I was supposed to be doing my econ homework…"

He gave her a lopsided grin from where he was lying beside her, staring up at the ceiling. "If you wanted to get any homework done, then you shouldn’t’a been so naked," he pointed out reasonably enough.

"I wanted to," she insisted. "It’s just that I was getting all ready to do my homework, and then there was this cute Spike butt." She patted the source of her distraction. "And then I went, ‘Hmm…econ or cute Spike butt?’, and I realized that it was a very rhetorical question."

He laughed. "So now ‘s my fault you’re not doin’ your homework?" he teased.

"No, it’s your sexy butt’s fault," she clarified. "Bad butt," she joked slightly, giving it a playful swat.

A fire lit up in the backs of his eyes. "Oh, you have no idea what you’ve just started, Summers…" His voice was low, husky, erotically dangerous…

"Bad butt," she repeated with an unashamed grin and another little swat.

And then she screeched when Spike tackled her and rolled her onto her stomach so that he could get at her own rear end. He gave her a little swat in return - nothing at all painful, of course - and she giggled and squirmed beneath him, trying to get away.

"Big Bad’s got you now," he teased, tickling her sides mercilessly.

She giggled and squirmed and finally managed to turn beneath him. "Must escape evil clutches…" she joked back amidst her mirth.

"And my bad butt," he reminded her, settling between her spread thighs once more.

A delight little hum escaped her throat when she realized that he was hard for her once more. "Good butt," she countered, giving it an encouraging little squeeze…

* * *

"Are you all right?" Willow asked softly as they stepped out of the administration building.

Oz nodded numbly. "I expected worse, y’know?" he sighed.

"It wasn’t your fault," Willow insisted. A pause. "Well, OK, it was kinda your fault that you let Veruca screw with your head like that, but not really."

Oz managed a weary smile and Willow’s charming tendency to babble. "Thanks for coming with me," he finally said into the still of the night.

"Hey, no prob," Willow assured him. "What are best friends for?"

"I know you have a lot of work," he agreed. "And when did you last have time for Tara?"

"Best friend currently not in jail or expelled," Willow pointed out. "I’d say that’s definitely worth all the time."

"Well, not expelled permanently," Oz corrected. "I am kind of expelled for the semester."

"But is it really an expulsion if they let you come back next year?" Willow wondered. "It’s kinda more like a suspension… Can you get suspended in college?" Her brow furrowed.

"Somehow, I seem to have managed it," he retorted.

"’Cause it really seems more like a high-school thing, and they never actually used the word ‘suspended’," Willow continued to ramble. "Which, when you think of it, is actually sorta a cover up. Because, hey, they did suspend you, but they just didn’t want to say it because then they’d be caught up in that whole high-school thing, and-"

Oz put one hand on her arm to halt the endless stream of words. "It’s OK," he assured her. "I’m all right."

A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. "But I’ll miss you," she insisted. "Y-You’ll stay in the dorm, right? Even though they kicked you out of housing? ‘Cause there’s no way they can actually enforce that… Well, there is, but they won’t go to all the fuss of doing it, so you can stay, right?"

He sighed. "I don’t know," he admitted. "I’m kinda thinking…get away for a while, take a break…"

Willow fought back her sniffles. "Absolutely," she determined to be supportive. "I mean, whatever you think is best and all…"

He gave her a soft smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Thanks," he repeated.

She gave him a smile as well and…

"Slut!"

Willow fell to the ground with the force of the blow, dizzy and confused.

"Traitor!"

Oz’s eyes widened when a severely unhinged Veruca turned on him. Gone was the somewhat-seductive woman who had tried to lure him to his doom. (Yes, he had read too many epics, thank you very much.) And, in her place, was a wild, feral creature. She had several cuts on her face - most of which looked self-inflicted - and it was obvious that she hadn’t paid any attention to any sort of hygiene in weeks.

"You. Are. Mine," she informed Oz in precise tones. "And you!" She turned to point an accusing finger at Willow. "Stay away from him, slut!"

Willow blinked. "Hello? Gay here!" she felt obliged to point out.

"Slut!" Veruca repeated. "The two of you, working together, set me up I know it, all a set up, made me do it…"

Veruca was babbling irrationally now, and Willow and Oz backed away, not quite sure how to deal with the crazed woman. Oz nodded to the campus police emergency box just a little ways away, and Willow ran after it to get help.

"Lied to me, turned against me, should’ve known I couldn’t trust you, just like all the others, just like daddy…" Veruca went on. "Daddy?" she cried out to the night sky. "Can you hear me now? Well, watch this!"

Oz’s eyes widened when he saw the knife that Veruca produced from her pocket before she was upon him, screeching like a banshee…

* * *

"What would he do if you just said no?" Spike inquired, breaking the post-coital silence that surrounded them.

"The end of the world," she moaned.

He rolled his eyes. "Seriously," he insisted.

She squirmed against him slightly uncomfortably. "I don’t know… Cut off my tuition, un-enroll me, and drag me back to Sunnydale."

"You know that he can’t actually do that, right?" Spike pointed out. "Well, except for the tuition bit," he conceded.

"Yeah, and without the tuition, the rest follows," she countered.

"Not necessarily," he offered. "There’re other options - scholarships, work-study, loans, that sort of thing."

"Spike," she said, her tone cool, "I can’t."

"Why not?" he persisted.

"Because if I turn on him on this I can never go home again is why not," she informed him matter-of-factly.

"And that bothers you?"

She sighed. "Yes," she admitted. "Now, can we just not talk about this?" she requested.

He let it go for the moment. "I love you," he murmured.

Another sigh. "Can we just not talk at all? Can you just hold me?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, his voice strained, but he acquiesced to her wishes nonetheless.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Elizabeth had always hated emergency rooms. The cold white tile, nurses walking about at a clipped, frantic rate, hurried but seemingly uncaring at the same time, not fully able to comprehend the depth of pain and fear in the eyes of those waiting…or perhaps able to comprehend, but not able to respond in the environment where the chaos could so easily consume them.

Before Elizabeth even had the chance to shiver, a cloak of leather was wrapped over her own jacket and a strong arm was around her shoulder. She allowed her head to curl into the crook of Spike’s throat with something akin to awe. How could he know her well? Know her feelings even before she did? How could he possibly be this close to her, and…?

Her introspection was cut off when one of the nurses came out to usher them small Westing House group through the hospital maze. Elizabeth had to force herself to focus on the woman’s words.

"…A nasty cut…not too serious…shock the worst…"

It was all good news, but it was still terrible. That something like this could’ve happened to Oz and Willow, two of the nicest people she’d ever met… It was just incomprehensible.

The nurse cleared aside one of the pale green curtains that partitioned the in-patient rooms from the bustling corridor. "We should have their release papers ready in a few minutes," she informed Tara, who had used her position as Willow’s significant other to take charge of the group. "I’ll give you Mr. Osborne’s prescription and further instructions then."

Tara nodded and ushered her friends inside.

Elizabeth gulped at the stunned, weary expressions on Oz and Willow’s faces. The two were sitting side by side on the hospital bed, both still clad in the clothes they’d worn out that evening although Oz now sported a left arm wrapped almost entirely in gauze. Willow was holding his free hand, and together they just stared off into the white wall, their eyes still looking vacant and shocked.

"Willow…" Tara whispered with a little sob.

The sound of her girlfriend’s voice seemed to break through the cloud that surrounded Willow’s mind, and she turned to see them in surprise. "Tara, baby?" she whispered back hopefully.

In an instant, the two of them were in each other’s arms, sobbing and making all sorts of silly promises that people make in tragic situations.

Oz watched the spectacle before him, pulling back to the here and now as well.

"How you feelin’, mate?" Spike asked cautiously, settling himself back against the wall and really wishing that he could have a cigarette.

Oz gestured to his arm. "They’ve got me on painkillers," he said simply. "It still hurts, though."

"How did she…?" Devon ventured with a slight shudder.

"Knife," Oz said simply. He blinked and frowned. "Despite how easy it looks in the movies, it hurts like a bitch to try to block a knife with your arm."

Spike managed to crack a small smile at that. "Better’n trying to use your eye," he joked lightly, index finger of one hand flicking upwards to brush over the scar tissue there.

A weak ghost of a smile flittered across Oz’s lip. "Yeah, no freaking that the blood in my eye meant that I was half blind," he agreed, recalling the previous year’s emergency room event.

"How bad is it?" Xander spoke up for the first time in a soft voice.

Oz sighed. "It’ll heal," he said simply.

"What I want to know," Cordelia said, arms crossed and eyes flashing dangerous, "is what happened to the skank who did this?"

"Yeah," Anya agreed with deadly intent, "I feel a spell of vengeance coming on…"

Oz shook her off. "They took her to the psych ward," he insisted. "She was kind of…"

"Nuts?" Jonathan provided.

Everyone stared at him in disbelief.

"Well, she was!" he insisted, blushing horribly.

Embarrassed by proximity, Andrew started blushing, too.

Oz nodded numbly. "I guess the whole arson thing should’ve tipped me off about that," he agreed.

"The nurse said you two are OK to be released soon," Tara finally pulled back from the fierce embrace she and Willow had shared and glanced around the room. "Do we have any idea what’s going to happen to Veruca?" she ventured softly.

"If you ever want to sue…" Anya began.

Oz shook his head. "The police have her. We’ll worry about pressing charges later."

The nurse entered at that moment, and paperwork was filled out, instructions given, and all the while Elizabeth clung to Spike like a lifeline, burying herself in the comfort of his warm embrace. When he finally pulled her chin up to inform her that it was time to go, she just gave him a soft nod and made the trip back to the dorm in silence…

* * *

"Luv?" Spike asked softly after they’d returned to their room and curled up together on his bed. His long fingers ran through her hair soothingly.

She placed an absentminded kiss against his still-clothed chest.

"Luv, what’s wrong?" he asked softly before rolling his eyes at his own idiocy. "I mean, besides the obvious, obviously." He frowned for a second at the contorted nature of that sentence before shaking it off.

She managed a weak smile in response. "Just feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment," she sighed, curling her body around his further. "Or completely dumbfounded. In a really bad way." She shuddered slightly, and he tightened his grip on her. "I don’t know what I’m supposed to do in a situation like this," she admitted in a soft whisper.

"No one does," he agreed wearily, shutting his eyes for a moment and breathing in deep, inhaling her scent, her essence, and letting it calm him. "You just do what ‘as to be done, an’…"

"What has to be done?" she demanded. "I mean, what can I possibly do?"

"You went to the hospital," he pointed out. "Put up the united Westin’ House front."

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I think that’s the first time all of us have been together in one place all semester. And the time before that was when Faith left…"

"Disaster brings people together," he decided.

She bit her lower lip. "Well, no, actually, it was finals," she amended her assessment.

He cracked a smile. "See? What’d I tell you? Disaster."

She giggled slightly at that as well and batted one hand at him playfully before sobering again. "God, now I feel guilty because I’m glad it wasn’t us."

"’m not," he retorted. "Besides, ‘s not like ‘ve got some crazy ex-girlfriend who would…" He trailed off in abrupt realization. "Dru’s in Europe," he provided as a worried afterthought.

She smiled at that and then rolled her eyes. "God, how do you do that?" she wondered, propping herself up on her arms so that she could look down at him.

"What?" he asked curiously, looking up at her through the curtain of her golden hair.

"Make me feel better about everything," she clarified.

A smirk curled across the edges of his lips. "If you wanted me to make you feel even better…" he began suggestively.

She swatted at his chest playfully. "Stop it," she pouted. "I’m trying to be all morbid and mopey."

"And ‘m trying to get laid," he countered.

She looked down at him curiously then, as if she were discovering something for the first time.

The intensity of her gaze caused him to squirm slightly, making him nervous. "Luv?" he ventured forth softly.

A fingertip to his lips hushed him, and he sighed at the contact. With a soft smile, Elizabeth let her fingers drift across his face, following the sharp line of one cheekbone until she reached the scar that trisected one eyebrow. She stroked along the white scar lines gently, watching as his eyelids fluttered closed at her attentions. His lashes were long and dark, curled more than was typical for a man, soft and gentle in contrast to the angular planes of his face. She was struck once more by his unique beauty…

"You’re a good man, William," she finally put words to all the thoughts that flitted about her mind on ephemeral, gossamer wings.

A genuine, dimpled smile lit up his face at that. "No, ‘m not." He was lying through his teeth, and they both knew it and were incredibly amused by it. "’m all bad, baby."

She giggled and then blushed when his eyes opened and those sapphirine orbs fixed on her once more. "You’re my bad boy?" she teased lightly.

"The badest," his voice rumbled in agreement before that light she’d come to identify as love took hold of his face. "And all yours, Elizabeth," he agreed shyly.

She smiled and bent her head to steal a kiss from his lips. He really was just too tempting when he did the cute, shy thing, especially when combined with that puffed up bravado that was so incredibly Spike. Her tongue parted the lips of her wonderful, living contradiction, and she thrust deep inside his mouth.

Contented to let her take the lead, he laid back and enjoyed himself, encouraging her to further plunder his mouth and pulling her body over so that she was covering him more completely. He sighed when she pulled back to nibble at his lip and took a gasping breath in the brief reprieve allotted him.

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut tight, savoring the taste and feel of him. God, what had she ever done to deserve him? He was sweet and powerful and funny and exciting and smart and fun and… He was just so wonderful, and he loved her so much, and…

She felt a pang in her heart.

He deserved more. He deserved a woman that could really and truly be with him, a woman who loved him just as fervently as he loved her. He deserved a strong woman, one that would fight for him instead of turning away like a coward. Most of all, he deserved happiness.

This wasn’t a man you had a cheap fling with. He was a forever sort of man, the one you married and stuck by through the good and the bad and…

"Elizabeth, you’re crying," Spike brushed aside the tear that was threatening to spill from the corner of her eye. His fingers were shaking slightly as he caressed her face. "What’s wrong, luv?" he pleaded with her. "Tell me."

"You’re a good man, William," she repeated.

He frowned. Her voice sounded lost now, distant. "An’ you’re a good woman," he insisted.

"I’m not."

"You are," he hissed vehemently.

"No, I’m not," she insisted. "I’m weak and…"

"Never," he countered. "Never weak. You may not see it, pet, but there’s such strength inside you… ‘S just waitin’ for you to realize it." He smiled and pulled her down to his chest. "’S part of what I love ‘bout you," he admitted softly, stroking her hair.

She sighed, her worries pushed to the back of her mind for now. "You’re doing it again," she informed him somewhat cryptically.

"Makin’ you feel better?" he deciphered her meaning.

She smiled. "Can you read my mind or something?" she wondered.

He pondered that for a second before smirking. He closed his eyes and put his fingers to his temples as if in a telepathic trance. "OK," he joked, "’m pickin’ something up… ‘Spike is the sexiest man alive. I love his big, thick-’"

"Spike!" she squealed in horror, cutting him off with a pillow to the face before he could finish that statement.

"What?" he protested with false innocence. "’S what you were thinkin’! That, and ‘I want your big, thick-’"

"Eek!" she squealed over the word, hitting him with the pillow again.

" ‘-inside me right now’," he went on merrily in the background. " ‘Since, truly Spike’s the God of Sex, and-’"

"Ego much?" she shot out, hands on hips.

"Much," he agreed with a grin. "Although my ego’s nowhere near as big as my-"

"Spike!" she screamed in mortification once more before shutting him up the only way she knew how and crashing her lips down upon his…

* * *

"A bit off our game today, are we?" Spike taunted lightly, watching Elizabeth fall to the mat on that cute little ass of hers once more. "Or maybe you’re just too busy thinking about my big-"

"God, are you ever going to shut up about that?" she demanded, blushing horribly as she scanned the dojo to make sure no one else on the team was listening to them. Kendra’s eyes were very studiously not looking in their direction from where she was supposedly spotting two of the newer students. Elizabeth’s face turned even redder.

"Not as long as I keep getting such entertainin’ reactions," he countered gleefully, bouncing on his toes lightly as he waited for her to take up a defensive stance once more.

Elizabeth shook down the slight dizziness that just looking at him, hopping about with energy, caused. Wearily, she shook her position once more, and they exchanged a quick bow.

Elizabeth successfully dodged Spike’s first attack and circled around counterclockwise. It was always a good strategy since her boyfriend hopelessly favored his left side. However, where she usually would’ve attacked with effective accuracy, her blows all landed a second too late and were easily blocked. If she hadn’t felt so tired, she would have undoubtedly been frustrated.

"Gotta do better’n that, luv," he countered cheerfully, happily unaware of the effort their usual sparring was taking her.

Elizabeth forced herself to focus and finally caught his ankle after a rather effective feint, causing Spike to tumble down onto the soft padding.

He held his hand up as she approached, ceding the point. "That’s my girl," he said with a fond smile, obviously delighting in her ability to thoroughly kick his ass.

She managed a weak smile of her own, her mind dimly aware that he was being cute and Spikish and that she should be smiling as a result. And that if she didn’t, he would know that…

"Elizabeth?"

His voice was concerned and close. How had he gotten that close without her knowing about it? He had just been on the mat, and now he was standing beside her and looking worried, and… Why was it getting so dim in here? And why did she feel…so…dizzy…?

Spike lunged forward with lightning-quick speed, catching her as she slumped on her feet. He let out a little gasp of fright when he realized that she was unconscious.

The spectacle had caught Wesley’s attention immediately, and he raced over to where his top student seemed to have collapsed. "What happened?" he demanded, reaching them just as Spike laid Elizabeth out on the mat.

Spike shook his head, barely containing his panic as he felt for her pulse. "She just fainted…"

* * *

The first thing Elizabeth was aware of when she woke up were the gentle fingers that caressed her forehead. They felt so perfect that for an instant she entertained the notion that she’d died and gone to heaven. Continuing to focus upon the warm hand, she soon noticed another touching her, this one gripping her own hand tightly within its grasp. She sighed. She felt safe and comfortable and surrounded and… Lazily, she opened her eyes.

"Hey, cutie," Spike whispered softly when he saw that she was awake.

"Spike?" she whispered a bit hoarsely. Strangely, his presence didn’t detract from the unreal notion that this was heaven in the slightest.

"Who else?" he asked rhetorically, resuming his stroking of her hair. "How you feelin’, kitten?"

She shifted slightly and winced. "Kinda drowsy," she admitted. "What happened?"

"Passed out right in the middle of practice," he provided, shifting in the hard wooden chair he’d moved over beside the cot.

Elizabeth blinked at her surroundings for the first time. "Where…?" she began tiredly.

"Nurse’s office," Spike explained.

Elizabeth groaned and felt her head spin. "I really fainted?" she repeated in disbelief.

"And you’re bloody lucky this isn’t the first time," Wesley’s severely displeased voice cut in from the doorway. He cast Spike an annoyed look. "I told you to call me when she woke up."

"She just woke up five seconds ago!" Spike retorted.

But Wesley’s attention had already turned to Elizabeth. "You gave us all the fright of our lives in there today," he informed her matter-of-factly, "which is bad enough in and of itself…"

"Hold on, now," Spike turned on him. "She’s sick. Cut her a break."

"Yes," Wesley said, looking down at her crossly, "sick of her own devising."

Spike frowned at that, confused.

"When is the last time you’ve eaten, young lady?" Wesley slipped fully into annoyed authority mode.

She frowned. "I-I…"

Spike’s brow furrowed. "You skipped lunch?" he inquired.

"And breakfast," she admitted meekly. "And I kinda didn’t eat dinner last night…"

Wesley shook his head. "Ridiculous students and their complete disregard for their health," he muttered under his breath.

"You ‘aven’t eaten since lunch yesterday?" Spike repeated incredulously. "And you came to practice because…?"

"Because you always yell at me when I don’t eat," she shot back.

He sighed wearily. "’m just suggestin’ that maybe collapsin’ from low blood-sugar levels isn’t the wisest thing," he pointed out.

She sulked. "Yes, I was stupid," she agreed, "but I was working on my math all through dinner last night, and then this afternoon…" She trailed off with a shrug.

Wesley let out a weary sigh. "Go home and eat," he instructed. He shook his head again. "Bloody ridiculous…" he swore under his breath, leaving the two of them alone.

Elizabeth sat up suddenly, pushing Spike aside in his efforts to help her. She felt incredibly uncomfortable to be alone with him right now because she knew what was coming.

"We should get you somethin’ to eat before we discuss this," he delayed the inevitable for a little longer.

Elizabeth nodded numbly and let him wrap his arm around her waist and help her back to the dorm. Their closeness didn’t bring her the comfort it usually did, however, because she could feel the concern and anger buried deep down inside him, just waiting for her to be better before he let it out. It wasn’t really that great an incentive.

Five o’clock on a Friday evening wasn’t a prime time for dining college students, and the two of them entered a cafeteria sporting only a dozen or so students. None were at the Westing House round table.

"Go, sit down," Spike suggested softly. "’ll get your food for you."

She flashed him a weary, grateful smile and handed him her dining card before walking over to the table and slumping in her favorite seat. She was still feeling a bit tired and dizzy and welcomed the rest very much. Reluctantly she admitted to herself that she’d pushed her body a bit too far. This feeling really wasn’t at all pleasant.

"Here you go, kitten," Spike said softly, suddenly at her side.

She managed a small, grateful smile and turned to the tray in front of her. The forced moderation she’d been exhibiting lately vanished with her current hunger, and she dove into the dining hall tortellini like it had come from a fancy Italian restaurant.

Beside her, Spike ate silently, watching her obvious hunger with slight concern…and even more so since he knew she’d been fighting against it so often lately.

Elizabeth had gotten halfway through the canned peaches before he spoke.

"You tryin’ to starve yourself to death, or what?" he asked a bit harshly.

She turned to look at him with a weary sigh. "I was stupid, OK?" she retorted a bit testily. "I got distracted. It won’t happen again."

"I should hope not," he agreed, a bit of the British stuffiness he fought so hard to escape coming through in his tone. "But you know that’s not what ‘m worried about…"

She refused to look at him. "Oh?" she tried to sound casual.

"Elizabeth." Spike turned her chin to face him and fixed her with a serious gaze. "What’s with these strange eatin’ habits you’ve picked up lately?"

"There’s nothing strange about them," she insisted.

One eyebrow quirked upward incredulously. "Oh?" he said, obviously unconvinced. "’Cause it seems to me like you’ve been eatin’ as little as possible. ‘m surprised you haven’t collapsed before now the way you’ve been picking at your food."

She turned back to her peaches and set about on the task of finishing them off. "I’m just on a diet, OK?"

He blinked. "A diet," he repeated. "This diet involve starvin’ yourself to death?"

She glared at him. "I’m not starving myself!" she exclaimed in a hissed whisper. "I just need to drop a few pounds."

He looked her up and down appreciatively. "And these not-so-unsightly pounds hafta go, why?" he pressed.

"Not-so-unsightly to you maybe," she sulked.

"And your handsome boyfriend’s opinion doesn’t matter?" he tried to tease gently.

She rolled her eyes at him. "It matters," she assured him, "but…"

"But what?" he pressed. "You know you’re beautiful to me just the way you are. Hell, I like the curves. Gives me somethin’ to hold onto when we-"

She smacked him playfully, but she was smiling.

He grinned in response. "To tell the truth," he admitted, "first time I saw you, I worried a bit that you were too skinny. But then you plumped up nicely an-"

"Plumped up?!" she repeated in complete horror.

He frowned confusedly.

"That’s absolutely the most horrible thing you could possibly say to a woman!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry, luv," he assured her, wincing slightly now that he thought about it. "What I meant was that when I met you you were absolutely, perfectly beautiful, but you’re even more absolutely, perfectly beautiful when…" Elizabeth’s arms were crossed over her chest defiantly. "Oh bugger!" He sighed. "Blew it, din’t I?"

"Completely," she agreed with a sigh, turning back to her tray and studying the piece of chocolate cake there with longing.

"Doesn’t make me wrong, though," he pointed out.

She bit her lip. "No," she agreed, realizing it was ridiculous to refuse to eat while they were having a conversation about her refusing to eat. Plus, chocolatey goodness…

"’m worried about you, luv," he admitted softly. "You’ve been tense lately, and ever since…" He trailed off.

"What?" she challenged him to say it, looking him right in the eye.

"The stress, and the eatin’, and the way you’ve been actin’…distant, even from me," he began, "it seems like it all started back when your father came to visit. Wanker," he felt obliged to add under his breath.

Elizabeth refused to look at him. Not like it would help, of course. Spike was observant enough that he would still be able to puzzle out what was going on in her head. Sometimes it was irksome just how well he knew her.

"What if it did?" she countered somewhat sullenly.

"Then, maybe," he suggested kindly, "’s time you actually did somethin’ about it…"

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Elizabeth lay on her side and stared at the bookshelf that lined the back of Spike’s desk, forming one of the walls that lined their little ‘bedroom’. She had been studying the grain of the wood for hours, pondering her fate and that of the man that slept on the far side of the bed.

It had not been a good day. Oz had announced that morning that he was going home for a while. Everyone understood, given all that had happened to him lately, and he had promised to return before the end of the semester. However, a feeling of sadness had still shrouded Westing Hall all day.

That had been followed by a rather vocal shouting match between Willow and Tara, of all people, that Jonathan had been able to hear all the way down at the end of the hall. Jonathan, much to his surprise, had also found himself the host of something of a party when the house population gathered in his room to be as far from Tara and Willow’s fight as possible.

Cordelia had made some pointed comments about Hell Semester. No one had contradicted her.

After the situation in the double had resolved itself, Elizabeth had set about on the task of finishing her econ problem set. She’d been lying across Anya’s bed, scowling at the equations in her book when Xander had abruptly rushed in and pulled Cordelia out on an important matter concerning "their play".

Elizabeth had blinked at this, and Anya had proceeded to explain that Xander was helping with the set design for Cordy’s directorial debut. It was obvious that Anya wasn’t exactly thrilled that her boyfriend was running off and spending so much time with Cordelia. Or, actually, it was more like she wasn’t thrilled that he was spending so little time with her.

The two of them had spent the rest of the afternoon munching on a box of chocolate chip cookies Anya kept for just such an emergency and talking about how hopeless men were. Anya had bitched about Xander and his seeming crush on Cordy, and Elizabeth had reluctantly admitted that things had been much more strained between her and Spike lately. Anya had, of course, been shocked and demanded to know details. The problem was that Elizabeth couldn’t really pin anything too specific down. It was just a feeling she had…

The feeling had been reinforced when he had brought up her father again that evening. The previous night she’d brushed him off with an "I’ll think about it." But tonight…

They really could yell up quite a storm when they put their minds to it. Spike had accused her of not having a bleeding clue what she wanted. She’d accused him of trying to run her life. There’d been a moment when she’d decided to sleep back in her and Willow’s old room, but given that Willow and Tara seemed to be making up within, she’d returned to Spike’s bed. And, even though she was still somewhat annoyed, she could still admit to herself that she was glad she was here for the night. After all, this was where she belonged…

They still hadn’t fully reconciled, though. For the first time ever, they’d used the size of the bed to sleep as far apart from each other as possible. Deep in her chest, Elizabeth could almost feel a palpable loss as she lay on her side, staring at the wood grain of the desk. It was probably what was making it so difficult for her to fall asleep.

Spike had actually fallen asleep rather quickly. The strain of the past few days had obviously overcome him, and within an hour of her return, the gentle, regular rhythm of his breathing had indicated to her that he was deep asleep. Usually, she found the sound soothing, lulling her into her own dreams. However, her mind was running about a mile a minute, too frazzled to just stop and listen.

She hated this, she decided. She wished her father had never come into town, so she wouldn’t have to take his stupid classes. She wished Spike had never started bandying about the word ‘love’, so that she wouldn’t feel guilty because she never returned the affectation. Most of all, she wished she’d never, ever met that jerk Angel because then she wouldn’t be so fucked up in the first place. It was all strange and new and confusing, and she wanted it to all just go away. Well, maybe the whole wishing Angel had never existed thing wasn’t exactly new… But still.

Calm down, she instructed her mind, taking several deep, purposeful breaths. Try to think about this logically.

That was the whole problem, though. None of it was logical. She had all these weird, half-formed feelings that she didn’t know what to do with, and every way she looked at it, she ended up miserable.

Option #1. Things just stayed the way they were now. Personally, this was her favorite. She could deal with her father’s demands. She’d done all right on her econ problem sets, and with Anya helping her, she was sure she’d do fine on the midterm. She was dealing, really she was. And this option would’ve worked just fine except for the fact that Spike kept trying to push her out of it. And what kind of boyfriend tried to do that anyway?

The kind that wants you to actually be happy, a voice in the back of her mind insisted on defending Spike. Well, fine, if she wanted to side with Spike, that led her straight to…

Option #2. Cave in to Spike’s wishes. Ditch econ. Tell her father to go screw himself. Admittedly, it had some appeal. Sometimes it was scary how alike she and Spike really were. But this idea just wasn’t practical. She had no doubt that her father would carry through on his threat to revoke her tuition. So that would mean what? She’d move in with Spike? Become his little stay-at-home wife? It’s not like he had all that much money, either. She could probably stay in this room, sure, maybe even eat off of his dining hall points… And, what? Live in a perpetual state of limbo? The idea gave her the creeps somewhere deep down inside.

God, how she wished that she could resort to Cordy’s tactics and have her parents cave in. Only she didn’t have the rich, distant aunt to back her up in case things fell straight through the floor. The only other real choice she’d come up with was…

Option #3. The ultimatum. If Spike didn’t stop bugging her about this, she’d employ the ultimate threat: get used to it, or I’m leaving. It pained her even to think about this one. God, how could she possibly live without Spike? She needed him. Practically everywhere she went, everything she did… It was all so much about him.

Oh yeah, and that’s sooo healthy, a sarcastic voice in the back of her mind pointed out.

She told it to shut up. After all, she and Spike were a couple, so it was only natural that…

What? He does everything, and you just tag along and watch? There was that strange, independent streak again. She was really starting to hate it. But, admittedly, some of what it was saying was true.

Spike was a wonderful boyfriend - loving, attentive, surprisingly sensitive despite his Big Bad demeanor, not to mention great in bed… A smile slipped upon her features at that one for a second, but she quickly brought her mind back on track. Spike was great, and she really enjoyed being with him, more that she ever had with anyone else before. But…

If there was one sticking point in her conversation with her father that had driven a nail through her heart, it was his treatment of Spike. If he had given her a direct order to stop seeing Spike, it almost would’ve been easier. Her father could easily enforce what classes she took, but she doubted he could actually force her to stop seeing Spike. If nothing else, the two of them would have just had to be sneakier.

But, oh no, that would’ve been too easy. Her father had to take the more painful road, the one where he trivialized Spike’s very existence and made it all too clear to her that they would never last…

Almost as if to contradict this line of thought, Spike turned over in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent under his breath as he dreamed. Elizabeth tensed slightly when his arm unconsciously slid around her waist, his body instinctively connecting with hers, even if the position had to be extremely uncomfortable to him.

Taking pity on the backaches he would have tomorrow if she let him sleep in this half-sprawled position, she rolled onto her back. He immediately settled comfortably against her, his arm around her waist tightening and his head resting on the pillow of the crook of her shoulder.

She managed a small smile as she stroked his peroxide locks absentmindedly. Even if they were arguing while awake, some primal impulse still always brought them back together. She felt a lot of the tension she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying release at the feel of him in her arms once more. It felt so right to have him here, so perfect…

She leaned over to lay a gentle kiss on his brow. He made a soft humming noise and snuggled in deeper against her. He looked almost like a child as he did it. Like he was clinging on for his very survival…

It was a rather odd thought. Spike wasn’t a particularly tall man, but he was still large enough in her arms to make her feel petite. And, if he was a child, then what did that make her…?

With a snort of annoyance, Elizabeth decided that she was way too fatigued to think straight right now. Her thoughts were getting too weird. Yup, it would probably be a good idea to go to sleep. See? Just like Spike was. It looked so nice and relaxing, and he looked so at peace right now. Yup, that was definitely for her. Except for the fact that she was still just as awake as ever…

"Why me?" she rhetorically asked Spike’s sleeping head.

He nuzzled her slightly in response.

She sighed wistfully. It would be so comfortable to just fall back into their old patterns together. This Christmas had been like a glimpse of heaven. Everything was perfect, and no worries…well, except for Dawn, but that had straightened out in a remarkably easy fashion. She missed that life now. She wanted the two of them to be like that forever. And yet…

The sad truth of the matter was that what they had shared had just been a brief moment in time. For a short while, they’d been able to deny the fact that they were from different worlds. But how long would it be before she was dragged back into the world of the wealthy and incredibly stuffy? She briefly entertained the wild notion of just snubbing that world altogether, but somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she depended on it. The safety it provided her if it turned out she couldn’t find her way in this world after all… Could she really just abandon it? Give up all the advantages she had been given in life, bring shame to her mother’s name, be laughed at and ridiculed by the only society she’d ever known before college?

And for what? A college fling. Spike was a great guy, yeah, but in the end he was still from a completely different world. He really couldn’t understand what it was like for her. And, honestly, how often did it turn out that the guy you dated in college turned out to be The One? What if she made this choice and years down the road, it turned out she’d been wrong to stay with him?

Her father always screamed at her to think about her future. Well, there it was.

And that was why it just had to be a fling. Because the odds of them actually belonging together were so slim… It just wasn’t worth the risk.

Unaware of her turn of thoughts, Spike smiled in his sleep. His fingers had somehow found their way past the hem of her nightgown, and his hand now rested on the bare flesh of her stomach.

It felt nice, wonderful, but how could she know that it was really real? Her father…

She sighed. She was thinking in circles again, and it was so tiring. Whatever she did, it always came back to Option #1 anyway. She and Spike had managed just fine before; there was no reason they couldn’t do so again, and there was absolutely no reason to ruin what they had before it was absolutely necessary.

Except that he loves you, and you’re lying to him…

She brushed the thought aside. Spike wanted to be with her, and she wanted to be with him. They were happy. There was absolutely no reason to rock the boat.

Deciding once again to battle with the ever-elusive sleep, Elizabeth closed her eyes once more, settling her head above his on the pillow. She smiled at the feel of his soft hair against her cheek and slowly began to drift away. Not even she could have said whether it was his comforting presence or the reaffirmation of her decision that finally allowed slumber to overtake her…

* * *

Elizabeth and Anya shared a sympathetic look the instant Elizabeth and Spike had arrived at the small theater. Xander and Cordy were buried in a large pile of wood blocks, foam rubber cutouts, and various brightly colored boards. They were talking animatedly together, apparently oblivious to Anya’s existence. Elizabeth could only assume they were searching for something to use in the rather vacant spot that would form the side wall of the room they’d set up on the stage.

Anya, for her part, noticed the unusual amount of physical distance between the bleached pair and sighed inwardly. It was never a good sign when even the cuddliest couples started having problems. Willow and Tara and then Spike and Elizabeth fighting on the same day? It made her wonder whether all relationships were doomed.

"Is that…a large fluorescent green egg?" Spike blinked at one of the stage props from last year’s spring play with pure and total bewilderment.

Anya’s brow furrowed. "Quite possibly," she decided.

Xander let out an exclamation of victory, and he and Cordy quickly began pulling out what looked to be a pale blue wardrobe.

Elizabeth blinked. "What…?" she began.

"Don’t even try to figure it out," Anya advised. "It will result in powerful migraines."

Elizabeth and Spike were forced to nod in agreement.

"We’ll need to paint on some stripes…" Xander was saying, studying the junky piece of furniture they’d extricated from the heap.

Cordy nodded vigorously. "I’ll go find the duct tape," she offered, "and…" She trailed off when she noticed that their audience had increased. "Good," she exclaimed brightly. "More slave labor!"

"What?" Elizabeth’s mouth gaped open like a herring’s, but before she knew it a paintbrush had been thrust into her hand.

"You paint all the time," Xander announced. "This should be no different. We just need to put zebra stripes on the dresser here."

"Why?" Elizabeth dreaded to ask.

"Because otherwise it won’t clash with the pink polka-dots enough," Cordelia explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Spike, you can help Xander duct tape the ceiling beam in place." She sighed and looked down at the limp wooden structure in front of her. "It just doesn’t want to stay put…" she sighed wistfully.

"Huh?" Spike looked about as dumbfounded as Elizabeth.

"Just come with me." Xander snagged a duster sleeve before the peroxide blond could make a crafty escape.

Elizabeth stared at where her boyfriend was being dragged away, then down at the brush in her hand, then back over at the bug ugly blue dresser. "I second the ‘huh?’" she announced.

Anya nodded in slow agreement. "I think they’re crazy," she whispered conspiratorially in Elizabeth’s ear. "They’ve got me trying to swat flies into that purple thing." She gestured to what looked to be some gelatinous goo in a large silver bowl.

"What play is this exactly?" Elizabeth wondered.

Anya shrugged. "I’m kind of afraid to ask," she admitted. "Mostly because I suspect this all of being one of those psychology experiments where they test to see what ridiculous things people will do before they finally refuse."

Elizabeth had to admit it was the most reasonable explanation for their current situation.

Cordelia raced back into the room at that, brandishing a roll of duct tape like the fate of the world depended on this special delivery. She didn’t dare leave such precious cargo in the confused hands of Spike and dashed right past him to give it to Xander. In an instant, she’d left the men to their perplexing task and had descended upon Anya and Elizabeth.

She frowned at the still blue dresser. "That doesn’t look like a zebra," she pointed out Elizabeth’s complete lack of action.

"Um, do you want black and white stripes, or just black over the blue?" Elizabeth’s rational mind had apparently shut down to accomplish her bizarre task more effectively.

Cordy frowned at that for a second. "Yeah," she agreed, "’cause if we want the white, we’re gonna have to paint the whole thing white first…"

"That was my thought," Elizabeth agreed.

"I think you should leave it blue," Anya commented, joking slightly. "That’s so much more strange than black and white stripes."

Cordy nodded seriously. "Good point," she agreed. "Leave it blue."

Elizabeth and Anya shrugged and both turned to the black paint can. After all, when in Rome…

Across the room from them, Spike had adopted a similar philosophy. He had no idea what he was working on or how the hell Xander could tell it was broken, but if the other man said that yellow thing was supposed to stand out at an angle, then it must be so.

Besides, viciously attacking things with duct tape was always fun. The poor prop had turned almost silver before the two overly-enthusiastic students were done with it.

"Still don’t know what ‘s s’posed to be," Spike declared, "but nothing with that much duct tape can possibly break."

Xander grinned at that as well. "Now all we have to do is make it yellow again."

Spike groaned. "Don’t I even get an explanation why?" he whined petulantly.

"No," Xander announced with joking sternness.

Elizabeth approached at that moment, abandoning the now-striped dresser. "Cordy told me to help you. Apparently my visual arts experience translates into covering things with aerosol paint in her mind."

Spike grinned at that. "Dunno," he teased lightly, "that nightscape you did with-"

She whapped him playfully in the head before he could finish. "Asshole," she pouted despite the amused smile on her face.

"Maybe," Spike agreed as leer, "but you-"

"I don’t know what you’re about to say," Xander cut him off, "but if you’ve got that expression, then I know I don’t want to hear. Now, we need to make this thing yellow again."

Spike rolled his eyes before they filled with excitement again when he was handed a can of yellow aerosol spray paint. A mischievous gleam darted around to all the unsuspecting innocents in the room.

"Way to go, Xander," Elizabeth chided. "You’ve just unleashed the apocalypse."

Xander cringed in apology when Spike’s feral eyes landed on him for a brief instant.

"Honey," Elizabeth caught Spike’s elbow and directed him to the thing that Xander was yellowing, "don’t attack the unsuspecting populace with yellow spray paint." She said the statement in a perfect mock-nag.

He chuckled before sighing and turning to his all-important task. It was vital that that thing turned yellow, dammit!

Cordy dropped by on one of her endless circuits of the room and nodded with approval. "Finally got it fixed," she commented to Xander.

He gave her a little grin. "Nothing that manly men with duct tape couldn’t handle." He thumped his chest twice jokingly.

Cordy laughed and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before running off.

Across the room, Anya sulked.

Spike noticed.

"Treadin’ in dangerous waters there, mate," he commented off-handedly.

"What?" Xander asked, completely clueless.

Spike nodded his head over in Anya’s direction. "Make the Missus jealous if you keep that up," he clarified.

Xander blinked in surprise. "Anya’s not jealous," he insisted.

Elizabeth and Spike both fixed him with ‘surely, you aren’t that much of an idiot’ stares.

"She is?" he ventured in nervous surprise.

"Been stressin’ out all semester," Spike said in his best ‘duh’ voice. "You honestly haven’t noticed this?"

Xander shook his head numbly.

"Oh, for Christ’s sake…" Spike grumbled. He turned to Elizabeth. "Luv, can you…?"

"Right," Elizabeth nodded seriously. "Vital guy talk. I’ll go soothe Anya’s nerves."

Spike gave her a grateful smile. "Much appreciated, pet."

She managed a shy smile in response and leaned in close for a minute to steal a sweet kiss from his lips before she dashed off after Anya.

Spike sighed as he watched her go. Practically ripping his eyes from the woman he loved, he turned back to Xander. "Women get jealous," he informed the less-experienced man matter-of-factly. "Even if they insist they don’t. And especially when they’re PMSing, which they also claim not to do."

"But what could Anya possibly be jealous of?" Xander asked, bewildered.

Spike rolled his eyes heavenward, caught the young man by the shoulders, and pointed him in Cordy’s direction. "Maybe the beautiful woman you’re spendin’ all your time with?" he suggested sarcastically.

"But Cordy and I are just friends!" Xander insisted.

Spike felt like hitting Xander, and then himself, very hard in the head multiple times. "Look at it this way, mate," he offering, pulling over a spare chair and turning it around to he could sit on it backwards. Xander followed his cue and sat down on the edge of a wooden crate. "OK," Spike went on, "so there’s this bird you really like. The two of you finally get together, but then not too long into it, you get real sick. You’re out of it for a while, and when you get better, turns out this girl’s hangin’ out with another guy all the time. Tell me you don’t feel jealous."

"But it’s not like that," Xander insisted.

Spike snorted. "You tell me this, why?" he wondered.

"Because you’re suggesting-" Xander began.

"Not suggestin’ a thing," Spike insisted with an innocent sweep of his arms, "but your girl’s worryin’. And if you have even the slightest bit of common sense, you’ll go tell ‘er exactly how you feel about her."

"B-But…" Xander ventured hesitantly.

A scarred eyebrow rose. "But?" he repeated.

"What if I don’t know?" Xander finished nervously.

A frown marred Spike’s smooth brow. "Don’t know?" he repeated incredulously.

"Stop repeating everything I say!" Xander exclaimed defensively.

"Maybe if what you were sayin’ make a lick ‘f sense, I would," Spike retorted.

"C’mon," Xander rolled his eyes. "You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how attractive Cordy is."

Spike glanced over at the woman in question. "She’s beautiful," he agreed. "You don’t think Anyanka’s beautiful, too?"

"Of course, I do," Xander insisted. "It’s just… Shouldn’t it mean something? That, I’m, y’know…"

"Noticing another woman?" Spike repeated incredulously. "Christ, you’re off your rocker, Harris." He let out a sigh of despair and pinched the bridge of his nose to release the tension. "’S real simple," he finally informed the other man. "Who do you want to be with, Cordy or Anyanka?"

"Well, of course, Anya," Xander insisted. "She’s my girlfriend. But-"

"This ‘ad better be a good ‘but’," Spike warned him.

Xander couldn’t help but grin evilly at that set-up. "As good as Elizabeth’s?" he teased.

"Oi!" Spike exclaimed in horror. "That’s-!"

"Kidding. Kidding," Xander assured him, chuckling slightly at the way Spike’s face had turned a bright red.

"Better be," Spike grumbled under his breath, sulking.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Sorry," he insisted, "it was a bad joke."

"Bloody brilliant joke," Spike conceded reluctantly, "but that still doesn’t mean ‘m not pissed…"

Xander cracked a smile at that and watched the other man returned to his seat.

"Now, what’s this ‘but’?" Spike demanded. "And, so help me, Harris, if you make one more reference to my ‘Lizabeth…"

"I really like Anya," Xander decided to ignore the other man’s grumbling and plunged ahead, "but I’m still attracted to Cordy."

"So?"

"So, shouldn’t that mean that Anya’s not right for me?" Xander pressed.

Spike sighed. "You want Anyanka?"

"Yes."

"You want Cordelia?"

"Maybe."

A snort of annoyance. "What’s that mean?"

"Well, sometimes I have fantasies…" Xander began hesitantly.

"Yeah, and I ‘ave fantasies ‘bout Sarah Michelle Gellar, but it doesn’t mean ‘m ditchin’ Elizabeth anytime soon," Spike pointed out.

Xander sighed at that. "She’s hot," he agreed. "Now I’ve got both her and Cordy on a beach, and-" Spike waved a hand in front of his face. "I’m awake! I’m here!" he insisted.

"Good," Spike agreed. "Now, do you seriously want to date Cordy over Anyanka?"

"No," Xander insisted.

"Then, what you’re doin’ is called harmless fantasizin’," Spike informed him. "It means about as much as that guy at the coffee shop that ‘Lizabeth’s so fond of."

Xander raised an eyebrow at this.

"Says he’s got a nice ass," Spike shrugged, "which he does. Don’t care, though," he said with a smug smile, "’cause she says my ass is cuter. And tastier."

"TMI," Xander informed him, covering his eyes as if that would somehow block the mental image.

Spike grinned evilly. "So go tell Anyanka that hers is the ass you really fancy, and let her finally stop worryin’ that you’re plannin’ to dump her for Cordy."

"Right…" Xander looked hesitant.

"Oh, for cryin’ out…" Spike sighed in exasperation. "Go," he pointed. "Say all those things that birds think ‘re sweet, and all guys think are poncy. An’ hurry so I can stop feelin’ like a poof for havin’ this conversation with you in the first place."

Xander grinned. "Don’t worry," he assured Spike, "Elizabeth asks, and I’ll inform her that you said ‘Ugh! Go fuck woman now!’" He affected a delightful caveman voice.

"God, you’re so hopeless," Spike sighed, shoving Xander slightly to get him headed in the direction of Anya.

Not needing any further motivation, Xander went over to where she and Elizabeth were giggling over something. "Anya," he stated matter-of-factly, "in my eyes, your assets exceed all other women’s, and I would like to demonstrate this fact to you through many orgasms."

Anya laughed and gave him a quick hug. "You’re very strange," she informed him with a smile before turning back to Elizabeth and Spike. "Uh…Xander and I have to go…er, study…" she improvised horribly.

"We did hear what he just said, luv," Spike felt obliged to point out.

"Right then," Anya nodded seriously. "We’re off to have orgasms, then. Way better orgasms than the two of you have." She felt the childish impulse to stick out her tongue and went with it.