Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’re late.” Anya said as Buffy rushed into the already crowded bar. She rolled her eyes, slipping into the back room to quickly shrug off her jacket, storing it with her bag in a cubby, pausing at the mirror for a brief moment to frown at her own reflection, trying to tousle her hair into something that looked less flat, to no avail. Taking a final second to try and make her chest look a bit fuller in the plain black tank top that was her uniform, she let out a huff, heading back out to help at the bar. 

“It’s busy tonight.” Buffy commented, not really expecting an answer as Anya took payment from a customer. 

“Buffy!” Willow called, waving her down from the far side of the bar. She let out a relieved breath, heading down to get her best friend a drink instead of hanging around with Anya. 

“Do I look okay?” Buffy asked, mixing something obscenely sweet for the redhead. 

“Of course. Why? Did someone say something?” Willow demanded, scowling slightly, earning a light laugh from Buffy. 

“Don’t worry about it, Wil.” She assured the other girl. “Is Tara here tonight?”

“Not yet, she had some work she needed to finish up.” Willow shook her head. “Is the band any good?”

“Band?” Buffy asked, half listening as some frat boy type ordered a round of cheap shots. 

“Were you late again?” Willow sighed. 

“Just, like, a teensy, tiny bit.” Buffy wrinkled her nose slightly, holding her hand up in a pinching motion. Willow rolled her eyes. 

“I don’t know why Ethan hasn’t fired you yet.” Willow shook her head, sipping at her drink. 

“Because Giles would kill him if he did.”

“Nepotism has no limits.” Willow muttered and Buffy laughed brightly. 

“I’m his god-daughter, Wils. I think it has to be a blood relation to count as nepotism.”

“Ooh, big words.” A male voice chimed in, sidling up beside Willow. Buffy glared at Xander. 

“Go bother your girlfriend, hm?” She tried, enjoying the way her friend seemed to flush even in the dim bar lighting. 

“So, how’s the band?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“Buffy was late.” Willow stage whispered as Buffy got to work on cocktails for a group of girls who were laughing loudly. 

“What good is having a man on the inside if she can’t tell us any good information?” Xander complained loudly. 

“Hi, Xander!” Anya’s cheerful voice startled Buffy, and she shared a look with Willow as the thin girl leaned against the bar, very obviously pressing her chest up in a way that had the man in question fumbling for words. 

“Anya! It’s you!” He said, looking to Willow for help, but she pressed her lips together as she fought back a smile. “And Willow! Look! A table for us!”

With that, Xander was ushering Willow to a table, abandoning Buffy to the crowd at the bar. Anya sighed dramatically. 

“Is he ever going to ask me out again?” She demanded, and Buffy shook her head with a soft smile. 

“Anya, haven’t you ever heard of playing hard to get?” She asked, and Anya rolled her eyes. 

“Why would I bother with something as stupid as that when I already know we’re sexually compatible?” Anya huffed, and Buffy had to bite back a grimace because ew. Xander had already given her and Willow a full rundown of the date he’d had with the other girl, but Buffy still liked to try and avoid thinking about Xander and sex in the same conversation. 

“Anyways,” Buffy let out a breath as she handed a few beers to someone who she was half certain she shared a class with. “I need the kind of honesty I know only you can provide.”

“About that lip gloss?”

“About my - no! What’s wrong with my lip gl- nevermind.” Buffy turned to the other girl, frowning. “How do I look?”

“Honestly?” Anya asked as she mixed a whiskey sour, brow pinching slightly as she stared at Buffy. “The jeans are nice, but that shirt is doing absolutely nothing for your breasts.”

“That’s what I thought!” Buffy exclaimed, regretting choosing today of all days to forgo a bra. 

“I dunno,” a voice from the other side of the bar said, and Buffy turned her head to find the source. Light eyes framed with heavy liner, and way too bleached hair greeted her. 

“You don’t know?” Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow as Anya wandered back down the bar. “Vodka cran, right?”

“You remembered.” He leaned his elbows on the bar, lean, toned biceps shown off in a shirt that seemed to have had the sleeves torn off. 

“Hard to forget the one British guy in the bar.” She chuckled, mixing his drink quickly. 

“But, I like the shirt.” He grinned, sharp cheekbones highlighted in the club lighting. “And your breasts look like they’d make a nice mouthful.”

The drink in Buffy’s hand was splashing across his face before there was any input from her brain. 

“Buffy!” She heard Anya reprimand from across the bar. 

“Would you like to close out your tab?” Buffy asked, placing the empty glass down on the bar between them. The man laughed brightly, even as his eyeliner smudged beneath his eyes. 

“Be back in a tic, pet.” He winked, clearly unbothered by the unimpressed look on her face. He turned on his heel, slipping away into the crowd. 

“Buffy? Are you okay?” Tara’s soft voice came, practically swallowed up by the volume of the crowd. 

“Buffy!” Willow appeared at her girlfriend's side. “What was that? Hi, baby.”

“Hi. What happened?” Tara asked. 

“Men are disgusting.” Buffy explained as the bar owner, Ethan, appeared on stage. 

“And, once again,” Ethan announced into the microphone. “The Bloody!”

Buffy felt her jaw drop as the still wet blonde took to the stage with a few others, running his hand through his damp hair as he walked up to the mic that was at center stage. 

“Bloody hell, Sunnydale.” He chuckled as his band mates strung a few chords. “When I asked my uncle about performing at his bar, I was convinced it would be as boring as he is. Glad you’ve all decided to prove me wrong.”

Trying not to grimace, Buffy set about helping the new onslaught of customers, ignoring the looks her friends were shooting at her. Which, okay, maybe throwing a drink in a random guys face hadn’t been her best idea, but how was she supposed to know he was the lead man of the current band, and the nephew of the owner of the bar? For a small town in California, it was growing a frustratingly large British population. 

And, she’d been having a rough day - rough few weeks, if not months, if she was being honest - and usually a crude remark wouldn’t get such a rise out of her. 

But, she’d gotten into a pretty heavy argument with her mom that afternoon, and it was still weighing on her mind. 

Buffy had been spending more time back at the house on Revello drive than in the apartment she shared with Willow anyways, so it didn’t make sense that her mom was so vehemently against her moving back home. It would make the constant stream of doctors appointments that much easier, anyways. There would be another adult in the house to care for Dawn, and someone else to handle household chores. 

It wasn’t like her mothers argument hadn’t been a good one - Buffy would probably start ignoring her friends in lieu of trying to pick up the slack at work, but it wasn’t like that was her plan. 

She’d been late for work because she’d had to help Dawn with some homework, and hadn’t had the time to run back to her apartment for a clean work shirt(or a bra, because apparently she didn’t have any at the house anymore). And now, she was taking it out on customers who were being no less gross than any other night Buffy spared a glance at the stage. She’d been idly listening to the music, enjoying the heavy drums and guitar and the rasp of the lead singers voice, but had not been prepared when she glanced up. He had both hands on the mic - one on the actual microphone, the other lower down on the stand, knees on either side of his lower hand, gelled hair looking a mess, as he sang. 

Buffy couldn’t explain why or how, but the way he was practically caressing the mic stand seemed almost sexual, which, huh? He threw his head back, exposing the long column of his throat, much to the glee of the girls nearest the stage as they screeched. The grin that crossed his lips was lazy and smug, and Buffy huffed, rolling her eyes and returning to her job. Busy hands left little room for an idle mind - was that even the saying?

She didn’t pay much attention to the band the rest of the night, too busy rushing between customers to even do much more than nod at her friends as they left in the early hours of the morning. Anya left soon after the bar had emptied out, claiming Buffy owed her for being late. Buffy had been too tired to argue, so set about cleaning on her own. 

She was dragging the last trash bag out to the back when a figure standing against the wall startled a sharp scream from her. 

“Simmer down, pet.” He told her before taking a slow drag from his cigarette. Buffy grimaced, but ignored the bleached Brit to swing the garbage bag into the dumpster. “You cleanin’ up all by yourself?”

“What happened to all your groupies?” She asked, hating the way he laughed. 

“Jealous?” He teased, following her back inside. 

“We’re closed. No customers allowed in.” She tried to block him from coming in. 

“Forgot something in my uncle's office. Just be a mo’.” He assured her before pushing past her and disappearing into the club. Buffy glared at the back of his retreating form, but set about wiping the counters. 

He returned a minute later, pulling on a long, black, leather duster. Buffy couldn’t hold back the snort, and he turned up, raising a brow, a scar forked through it. 

“What?” He asked, and Buffy shook her head, going back to her closing duties. 

“Nothing.” She assured him, unable to hide the amusement from her voice. 

“Share the joke, love. Can’t be that funny.” He leaned against the bar as she bit back a smirk. 

“You just look like a cheap Billy Idol knock off.” She told him earnestly, enjoying the offended look on his face. 

“You take that back right now.” He sounded almost mad. Buffy laughed outright. 

“Over bleached hair, way too many rings, and an all black outfit? Tell me where you differ, Mister… The Bloody.”

“Well, for one - wait, what did you just call me?” He asked, cocking his head to the side slightly. Buffy rolled her eyes. 

“Isn’t that your band name?”

“I did introduce myself at the beginning of the night, pet.” He placed his hands flat on the bar, and Buffy shook her head. 

“Guess who wasn’t paying attention?” She offered. 

“Spike.”

“Pardon?”

“Name’s Spike, and you’re… Bunny, right?”

“Buffy.” She corrected him. He scoffed, and she arched a brow. “What?”

“Not a very strong name, now is it?”

“Says the guy named Spike. Who thought I had a stripper name.” She tossed the dirty rag away. “Aren’t you supposed to be gone now?”

“But we’re pals now, you and I.” He nodded his chin towards her. “Know each other's names and all.”

“I refuse to believe your mother named you Spike.”

“Ever heard of a nickname, love?” He asked, leaning forward over the bar towards her. 

“Ever heard of leaving a business once they’re closed?” She snarked back, annoyed when his grin widened. 

“Wanna get out of here together then, pet?”

“You’re a pig.” She told him, shaking her head and heading to the back to retrieve her bag and jacket. 

Once the bar was closed up and Spike (seriously? Who chose a name like that?) had disappeared into the night, she headed back to the home, grateful for the short ten minute walk. 

Willow had gone back to Tara’s, and Buffy was glad for the silence of the apartment before she was falling asleep. 

“Mhm.” Buffy nodded along, mentally trying to put together a list of what she needed to pick up at the grocery store, as Dawn rambled on about school. 

“…which is great, because now Janice actually shows up for class, so I’m not all alone like a complete loser.” Dawn continued on, homework going ignored as Buffy stirred the mac and cheese together, frowning at it. Was macaroni and cheese a well balanced lunch for a fifteen year old girl? She was fairly certain her mother had once told her it wasn’t. 

“When was the last time you ate a vegetable?” Buffy asked, cutting off her sister’s monologue about school. 

“God, were you even listening to me?” Dawn grumbled. Buffy rolled her eyes, turning her attention away from the food on the stove. 

“You spent the last thirty minutes going on about the new English teacher you have a crush on.” She smirked, having spent her high school years practicing very well absent listening and being able to parrot it back. 

“I - I don’t - ugh, you’re so gross!” Dawn flushed, blue eyes going wide. “He’s like thirty.”

“What was the last vegetable you ate?” Buffy changed the subject back, hoping her sisters embarrassment would be enough to let it slide. 

“You're so weird!” Dawn exclaimed, and Buffy rolled her eyes. 

“Keep it down, will you? Moms trying to nap.”

“Trying, and failing.” Their mothers voice startled them both, and Dawn scooped up her pencil to pretend she’d actually been doing homework. Buffy bit back a laugh; she was so unsubtle. 

“Do you want some tea?” Buffy offered, moving the macaroni off the still warm burner, turning to open the cupboard. 

“I can do it.” Joyce waved Buffy off, taking a moment to steady herself against the counter before reaching up for a mug. Buffy could see how Dawn was frozen at the island in the center of the room, and assumed her own stature was mirroring that of her younger sister. They both relaxed when their mother had the mug placed on the counter instead of shattered on the floor. 

“Do you want some lunch?” Buffy offered, sidestepping her to reach up for a few bowls. 

“Oh, no thank you. I don’t think I could even keep crackers down at this point.” Joyce shook her head and Buffy forced a tight smile as she nodded her head. Her mother looked like little more than skin and bones, but she was nearing the end of her treatments, so Buffy was trying to remain hopeful. 

“Is there anything you want me to pick up at the grocery store this afternoon?” Buffy offered as her mother filled the kettle, doing her best to fight against the urge to step in and take over. 

“Dawnie?” Joyce asked, looking at her youngest daughter, and Buffy pressed her lips together. All Dawn wanted was junk food, which wasn’t going to help their mother get better. 

“Um…” Dawn paused, eyes catching the murderous glare Buffy was sending her. “Ah… apples?”

Buffy refrained from groaning, because hey, at least Dawn was trying. 

“Okay. Apples. We need milk and bread, maybe something for dinner this week?” Buffy offered, serving out a bowl of noodles for her sister and a smaller portion for herself, not very hungry. 

“What about pizza?” Dawn asked, and Buffy glared. 

“You’ve had pizza at least three times in the last week.” She shook her head, earning a soft laugh from her mother as the teenager started on about how it wasn’t actually that unhealthy because it was loaded with vegetables, despite the fact that Dawn only ever ate meat lovers with extra cheese. 

Once Dawn was fed, groceries were bought, Joyce sent Buffy back to her place, insisting she get some actual rest. She went begrudgingly, doubting she’d actually get much done; Willow would presumably be with her girlfriend, and trying to keep her mind stress-free when she was on her own was never easy. There were just more important things on her mind; her mom, her job, what she was doing with her future, what Dawn was doing with her future, why every relationship she had crashed and burned. Sleep just couldn’t keep her focus the way her own personal drama could. 

Chapter Text

Three weeks. 

Every night for three weeks, Buffy had been putting up with British innuendos that she was almost positive deserved a slap, and wandering eyes. She’d started forcing Anya to serve him, but he still always managed to find her when she had a break or a brief moment of reprieve from customers. 

“God,” Buffy groaned when he found her hiding out in the back for her break. “Can’t you take a hint?”

“Just came out for a fag, love.” He smirked. 

“A what?” Buffy asked, and Spike rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket. 

“Smoke. Cigarette.” He pulled the box out, waving it in the air for her to see. “Bloody Americans.”

“You know that no one’s forcing you to be in America, right?” Buffy reminded him as he pulled a cigarette from the box, offering her one. “No thanks.”

“What time are you off?” Spike asked, Buffy let out a huff, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall. 

“Why?” Buffy leaned her head back against the wall, once again wishing for just a moment to herself. 

“You can’t keep saying no forever.” Spike teased, and Buffy turned to glare at him. He winked. 

“Go find a girl who actually wants to talk to you, maybe she’ll fuck you.” She sighed, shutting her eyes and leaning her head back once more.

“But where’s the fun in that?” He chuckled, and the smell of smoke was ruining her break. 

“Goodbye, Spike.” Buffy muttered, ignoring his laugh as she walked back into the busy, sweaty bar. 

There were still a few minutes left of her break, so she went to find her friends, mostly talking and drinking, except for Willow, who was reading over a paper. 

“Well?” Buffy asked, already feeling the pit as it formed in her stomach. 

“I think it could use some flare, but I’d hire you.” Willow answered with a weak grin. Buffy pressed her palms to the table and frowned at her best friend. “It’s just… add the extra curriculars you did.”

“How was being a cheerleader before I moved here going to help me?” Buffy sighed. “And all our teachers here hated me.”

“Not… not all of them.” Tara tried, but the argument was weak. “And the, uh, the coach for the mixed martial arts you did?”

“You mean Miss Calendar?” Buffy shared a look with Willow as Tara nodded. 

“Baby, Miss Calendar married Giles.” Willow told her girlfriend. 

“She could still be a reference!” Xander nodded his head, and Buffy ran a hand over her face. 

“I don’t even have the time for a second job, you guys.” She reminded them. 

“You don’t need to be with your mom and sister every second of every day.” Willow spoke softly, only just loud enough to be heard over the music. Buffy shook her head. 

“Look, I gotta get back to the bar. My break is probably over. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, alright?”

“Buffy-.” Willow stood up, but Buffy just waved her off, knowing Xander had to leave soon because the construction company he worked for was starting at a new site in the morning, and Willow and Tara head to head back to Tara’s to feed the cat. 

Fixing her ponytail, Buffy slipped back behind the bar. It was still early in the night, and with the help of her push-up bra, she was hoping to make a decent amount of tips.

It had barely been half an hour since the departure of her friends, and Buffy was slipping through the crowd, heading back from the bathroom, when a hand caught her bicep. She turned, ready to push whoever it was off when-.

“Hey,” Riley smiled down at her, that stupid, charming, boyish grin. Buffy blinked dumbly at him. 

They’d dated for the last year of college, and two more after that, before Riley decided to join the army and left Sunnydale. Buffy had been convinced she was going to marry him, and then over the span of one weekend, he told her it wasn’t going to work and fled the country. 

That had been two years ago. 

“Uh, Riley?” She finally found her voice after far too long, she looked down at the hand that was still holding onto her bicep. 

“Right. Sorry.” He dropped his hand, and when Buffy turned to look at him, he was still staring at her face. 

“What are you, um.” Buffy blinked, trying to find words that made sense. “What are you doing here?”

Did you realize your mistake? Did you come back for me?

“Visiting my parents.” Riley explained. Buffy furrowed her brow. Had he not visited them in the past two years? And, if he had, why was he only just now coming to find her. 

“I meant The Bronze.” Buffy lied, staring up at him, heart racing in her chest. 

“Oh, right.” Riley looked around him, seeming to search for someone. His face lit up when he found them, pulling a blonde girl towards himself, nearly a head taller than Buffy, all lean muscle. “This is Sam, my fiance.”

Buffy stared, feeling as though the floor had been ripped out from under her. She had a brief worry that she was going to vomit on the other girl. 

“Uh. Hi.” Buffy forced the word out, giving the girl a tight lipped smile. “And you’re introducing her to me, because…?”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Buff.” He chuckled, arm wrapped around his fiancé's waist, brushing off Buffy’s question. “It’s not like we had a bad breakup, or like I planned this. We came out to dance, I saw you, thought I’d say hi. Don’t make it into something it’s not.”

“I’m making it into anything, Riley.” Buffy muttered, feeling short and out of place. “Is this all? We say hi, and I can go back to work?”

“Jeez, Buff, what’s the rush?” 

“Uh, work?” She jerked her thumb towards the bar. Riley wrinkled his nose. 

“You still work here?” He teased in a voice she knew was meant to be light hearted, but just pissed her off. Sam shoved him lightly with a laugh. 

“Don’t mind him, he thinks he’s cuter than he is.” She told Buffy, giant diamond glittering on her finger, where her hand was resting on Riley’s chest. “Are you seeing anyone? Maybe we could do a double date!”

Riley raised an eyebrow, like he knew that she was still single. His smirk made her want to hit him. 

“Oh, yeah. My boyfriend would love that.” Buffy lied, nodding her head. 

“Is he here? I’d love to meet him.” Riley looked around the area, a smirk still on his lips, trying to catch her out. 

“Is he here? Is my boyfriend here?” Buffy parroted his question back to him, looking around in panic when she spotted a blonde head of hair. “Yes! He is here!”

“He is?” Riley looked at her, and Buffy darted through the crowd, grabbing Spike by the arm from where he was laughing with his band mates. 

“Huh?” He stumbled back, spilling a bit of beer from his bottle. 

“Play along and you get free drinks for the rest of the night.” She hissed into his ear, dragging him back towards Riley and Sam. Riley’s eyes went wide. 

“Him?” He asked incredulously. 

“Me?” Spike questioned, arm still in Buffy’s grip. She dug her nails into the skin. 

“Yup.” Buffy nodded, praying the Brit wouldn’t blow up her like. “Spike, honey, this is Riley and his fiance, Sam.”

Spike’s arm jerked at the pet name, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Riley beat him to it. “So, we broke up and you decided to find the exact opposite of me?”

“Riley!” Sam admonished. Spike’s arm went tense, and Buffy felt her stomach lurch when he pulled from her grasp. 

“Something wrong with me, soldier boy?” Spike practically snarled, getting right up in Riley’s face. It was a rather impressive feat, since Riley had a good several inches on him, but Spike didn’t back down. Buffy reached out, pulling him back to her side, worrying that her job might not survive it if she got her boss's nephew in a fight with a soldier. 

“How long have you two been together?” Sam asked, even as both men still seemed ready to fight. Buffy curled both her hands around Spike’s arm. “You know what? Riley’s parents might still have your number, Buffy. We’ll call you to make plans for the double date.”

Sam pulled Riley away, and as soon as they were gone, Spike turned on Buffy. 

“Just - just let me finish my shift, okay?” She practically begged, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto the floor. 

“Well, since we’re together.” Spike agreed with a smirk, somehow making the word feel all kinds of dirty. Buffy spun away, rushing back to the bar to help Anya, who was surrounded by a small hoard of university students. 

The rest of the night flew by in a rush, Buffy messing up far too many drinks and passing them all off to Spike, who was sitting at the end of the bar watching her like a predator. He didn’t return to his band mates, obviously wanting to keep an eye on her so she couldn’t sneak out on him. Honestly, it was smarter than she liked. 

Anya, once again, forced Buffy into closing up, reminding Buffy that was was technically higher up on the work hierarchy than Buffy. Spike didn’t move as Buffy mopped the floor and wiped the counters, gathering up all the dirty dishes and bringing them to the kitchen. 

She was just reaching for the cubby that housed her bag and jacket, pulling open the door, when a pale hand extended past her to slam it shut. Buffy spun around to find Spike entirely too close to her. 

“The bloody fuck was that?” He asked, voice low. Buffy bit her lip for a moment before responding. 

“I’m sorry, okay? We dated years ago and I haven’t seen him since, and then he shows up with a fiance and started asking me if I was still single because of course he had to rub it in and I just panicked and you were the only person around me that I actually knew.” Buffy explained, the words all coming out in a rush. Spike didn’t react to the words, and Buffy ducked out from under his arm to pace behind him. “Look, when they call I’ll tell them we broke up, alright? No skin off your back.”

“Now, hold on, pet.” Spike’s voice was too calm and casual, and she spun to find he was leaning back against the cubbies. “Never said no, now did I?”

“You - what?” Buffy blinked. Spike grinned, the expression reminding her once more of a predator. 

“Though, I think I’d need more than a night of free drinks.” He spoke slowly, starting to walk towards her. Buffy started backing up, only stopping once her ass hit the table in the small break room. Her hands caught the edge of it. Spike leaned into her space, hands grasping the table just outside of her own. 

“You want me to pay you?” Buffy clarified, hating the way his eyes on her lips made her stomach do a bellyflop. 

“In a way.” Spike’s eyes moved back up to meet her own as he spoke, clear blue and bright. 

“In what way?” Buffy asked. “I don’t know how much you think your uncle pays me-.”

“Not money, pet.” Spike spoke softly, lifting his left hand to tuck an errant bit of hair behind her ear, grazing the backs of his knuckles across her cheek as he withdrew the hand. 

“Then what?” The words came out on a breath, aware of the tension in the room. 

“You want a boyfriend.” he started, breath fanning her cheeks in a not unpleasant way. Buffy held his gaze. “And I want the perks.”

“The perks?” Buffy questioned, feeling utterly confused. One of his hands moved without her realizing it, until the hand in question was giving her ass a squeeze. She let out a yelp, slamming her hands against his chest and shoving him back. Spike stumbled back, grin never leaving his lips. “Seriously?!”

“That’s the price, love.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“You want me to… to whore myself out to you?” She gasped, reeling completely. 

“Don’t think of it like that, pet.” He chuckled. “Think of it as a compromise, yeah? Couples make compromises all the time, honey.”

“We’re not a real couple.” Buffy pointed out with a huff, pushing past him to go and get her jacket and purse. 

“Should I go find your ex-honey to let him know that?” Spike asked, a smirk evident in his voice. Buffy clenched her jaw, before turning back to face him. 

“One night.” She hissed, not wanting to even speak too loud. “One night for one date, and then you stop bothering me at work. Got it?”

“Cross my heart and all that shit.” Spike agreed, drawing an X over his chest with his finger. Buffy glared at him for a moment, but when all he did was grin, she moved to grab a scrap of paper and quickly scrawl down her phone number, shoving it into his hand. 

“Call me tomorrow before noon.” Buffy didn’t wait for his response, leaving the club, glad the doors auto locked after the bar shut and could only be used as exits. 

She was halfway home before it hit her what she had agreed to, skidding to a halt halfway through crossing a thankfully empty street. 

“Fuck!” Buffy yelled, wondering how she could be so stupid. Setting her jaw, she finished her route home, shaking her head at her own foolishness. 

Chapter Text

Will stared at the wrinkled piece of paper for what felt like the millionth time. The numbers were still there, written hastily in blue ink, staring menacingly up at him. 

It was nearly eleven in the morning, and he knew his window to call her was rapidly shrinking, but every time he thought he was ready, he’d chicken out. How the fuck was he supposed to call her, when he was just lousy old Will? She knew Spike, and while he was fairly certain she wasn’t a fan of him, he knew she’d be even less of a fan of him without the leather and the hair gel and the contacts. He sat down on the chair, running his hands over his face, the words of every girl he’d ever loved running through his mind, which was crazy. 

“Pratt.” The principal's voice startled him, Will jumping up to his feet. 

“Principal Snyder.” He greeted him with a curt nod. 

“Free period?” Snyder asked, peering around the empty room. 

“Yes, sir.” He nodded his head, slipping the paper back into his pocket. 

“Is that Summers girl giving you any trouble?” Snyder asked, and Will furrowed his brow. 

“Dawn Summers?” He clarified. Snyder nodded, looking annoyed, which, admittedly, was his normal expression. “Uh, no sir. Should she be?”

“You weren’t here when her sister was here.” Snyder shook his head with a scoff. “I was this close to expelling her at least a dozen times-.”

“My position here is still relatively new, sir.” Will reminded him, not interested in hearing about his boss’ feud with a teenage girl. “Has she done something I should be aware of?”

“No.” Snyder said with a grimace, as though this girl's good behavior was a bad thing. “Just with everything going on with their mother, I don’t want to risk her turning into her sister.”

“Their mother?” Will asked, brow furrowed. No one had mentioned anything about any of his students' parents when he’d taken the job a month prior. 

“Yeah, she’s undergoing cancer treatments.” Snyder waved it off. “Just let me know if it looks like she’s up to anything - and I mean anything.”

“Right. Of course.” He nodded at his boss, watching as the short man walked out of the room just as briskly as he had walked in. Will let out a breath, resting one hand on his hip, dragging the other over his face. 

The man was a right prick, holding out a vendetta against a former student so strongly that he was offering no compassion to a student whose mother was ill. It made his stomach hurt, pushing away thoughts of his own mother, wincing internally as he ended up just dredging up worse memories. 

Memories of a young man who had foolishly let his heart lead him towards a woman who had verbalized her opinions of him so rudely at her eighteenth birthday party. Of a man who had just lost his mother, not even twenty yet and completely alone in the world, enraptured with the world a pretty girl had led him towards, before ripping out his heart and stomping on it. 

“Fucking hell.” Will muttered to himself, pulling the phone number out of his pocket and going to shove it into the pocket of his work bag. Maybe if it wasn’t on his person, it wouldn’t bother him so much. 

Maybe. 

He was wrong. Will had been wrong more times than he could count, so another addition to the ever growing list was nothing new. Yet, being wrong still made his chest hurt. 

The number was still tucked away in the zipped pocket of his bag, now abandoned beside the door to his flat. He took another pull of his beer, glaring towards the bag. 

He hadn’t actually thought she would say yes to him. That was half the intrigue, knowing she was so far out of his league that he never stood any chance. Without a chance, he wouldn’t get his hopes up, and therefore wouldn’t get his heart broken. 

Will had been young and foolish his first time in love with a girl who hadn’t even thought him worthy of the time of day. 

His second time in love, he had truly thought they were a match made in heaven, though he later learned it was more a match made in hell. Even then, he hadn’t been able to end it, too in love to think straight. 

He groaned at the thoughts of his former loves. Buffy wasn’t supposed to fall into that category, because she was supposed to be unattainable. Someone he could chase like a cat and mouse, maybe charm her a bit, but it was never supposed to leave the bar. He hadn’t, in his wildest dreams, expected her to agree to his insane terms. That was why he had laid them out, because he couldn’t go out pretending to be her boyfriend. Even he knew that would be too dangerous. 

Another two beers in, and he thought maybe he could go to The Bronze, call it all off. But then, what if she was disappointed? She had agreed to his terms, and what, he was going to back out?

“Not a fucking bitch.” He muttered to himself, pushing off from the couch, glancing at the clock to see it was still early - she tended to close, and never really got there before six or seven. 

Wrenching open his bag, he retrieved her number and went to the kitchen, dialing it before he could think better of it. 

She answered halfway into the third ring.

“Hello?” Her voice was a bit breathy, like maybe she’d had to run to grab the phone. 

“‘Lo, pet.” He greeted, immediately regretting the cocky tone. 

“Spike?” Buffy’s annoyance was audible, even as she dropped her voice to a whisper. “What are you - my roommate might’ve answered!”

“Can’t let her know about your deal with the big bad musician?” He teased, ignoring the twinge of pain at her adamance about the secrecy. 

“You were supposed to call several hours ago.” Buffy muttered, and Will couldn’t help but smile. 

“Were you waiting for me to call?” He asked, unable to force his grin away. 

“No. But if you had called ten minutes ago, I wouldn't have been home, and then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Just a sec.” Her voice became muffled, like she was covering the receiver as she spoke to someone else. “-to her place, ya.”

“Whose place we going to?” Will asked, half hoping she would hang up and never speak to him again. 

“Riley wants to meet up on Sunday. I was able to stall them today.” Buffy paused, and Will gripped the phone tighter in his hand. “Do you still want to do this?”

“Do I still want to fuck you until you can’t remember soldier boys name?” He hit himself in the head before he could even finish speaking. 

“I don’t work tomorrow night.” Buffy sighed, the resignation clear in her voice, but he was in too far to back out now. 

“You want my address, or-?”

“Just tell me.” Buffy snapped, which shouldn’t have made his dick twitch in his pants the way it did. 

Will rattled off his address to Buffy, not even managing to say goodbye before she was hanging up. 

Looking around his apartment, he wondered what he had done, before realizing he needed to completely gut any evidence of William Pratt in the next twenty four hours if he didn’t want her to laugh in his face. 

Chapter Text

Buffy stood, checking the pink sticky note she had written the address down on, before back to the front door of the basement apartment. Of course he lived practically below ground. 

Marching forwards, she knocked on his door twice, her knuckles tapping against it loudly. Glancing over her shoulder for the umpteenth time to make sure no one she knew was around to see her, she was startled when the door opened. 

“Oh, did you dress up for me?” Spike asked, an annoying twinkle in his eyes. Buffy set her jaw, crossing her arms. 

“I had a meeting today.” She said, not wanting him to know it had been a job interview that she had failed at rather spectacularly. “Are we doing this?”

“Come on in, love.” He stepped back but not out of the way, forcing her to squeeze by him to get inside. 

Spike didn’t speak as he shut the door, letting Buffy take in the apartment. It wasn’t anything grand, but it was better than the crypt she had expected it to be. He brushed past her, a hand on the small of her back making her jump before it disappeared. 

“You want a drink?” Spike asked, walking through an open doorway, leaving her to follow behind. Hiking her bag up on her shoulder, Buffy squared her jaw and held her head high, following him. 

“No, I’m - I’m good.” She told him, watching as he filled a glass with water under the sink before turning to face her, eyes dancing up and down her body. She forced herself not to fidget, taking in his appearance as well. Black jeans, black T-shirt, black belt and black boots. Very original. “So?”

Spike took a slow sip of his water, eyes never leaving her face, before lowering it, placing it down on the counter. Buffy clenched her teeth together as he walked towards her, refusing to back down. He didn’t stop until he was nearly toe to toe with her, looking down at her with slightly hooded eyes. 

“Not gonna force myself on you, pet.” He told her, minty breath fanning across her face. “Gotta be a give and take.”

“I’m not sucking your dick, if that’s what you're insinuating.” She said, and the asshole had the nerve to laugh

“Wasn’t asking.” Spike shook his head, mirth lacing his voice as much as his eyes. “But you want me to be your boyfriend-.”

“I don’t-!”

“Don’t you?” His hands caught her waist, leaning in so his nose bumped against hers, her hands awkwardly hovering between their bodies. “Isn’t that why we’re here, pet? Because you need a boyfriend to make the soldier boy think you’re over him, even when you so badly want him to leave the bird he’s with to come back to you?”

“I don’t want him back.” Buffy bit out, and his grin widened, clearly aware he’d hit a nerve. He started walking forward again, forcing her back until she was against a wall. 

“No? So why not let bygones be bygones? Why come here, in that naughty little skirt, ready to spread your dimpled knees for me, if not to make him jealous?” Spike challenged, voice low. Buffy held back, wanting to hit him as hard as she could. 

Instead, she let her bag drop to the floor, reaching up to grab his face and pull him down into a near bruising kiss. His reaction was immediate, hands flexing on her hips, kissing her back like it was second nature. 

And, fuck him, but Spike was a good kisser. His hands slid around her back, pulling her against his chest as his teeth nipped at her lower lip, taking her gasp as an opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. Buffy’s fingers slid from his jaw to the back of his skull, tangling into his gelled back hair and breaking the cast. 

Once she was well and truly lost in the kiss, Spike slid his hands down further, cupping her ass as he made space for himself between her thighs. Buffy gasped when he lifted her up, having pretty much exclusively dated bigger, more muscular guys in the past, none of whom had ever lifted her up so seamlessly. 

“Fuck.” Buffy groaned, breaking the kiss for air, her head starting to spin. She shifted slightly as his lips trailed from her mouth down to her jaw and throat, moaning in tandem when she felt him press against her core. Her head dropped back against the wall. 

“Christ, pet.” Spike panted into her throat, breathless even though all they’d done was kiss. Wanting to shut him up before he could get smug, Buffy hooked a leg around his ass, tugging him closer and flexing her hips against him. 

“Oh!” Buffy cried out when he bit down on her collarbone, hips jerking up against hers. 

“Knew you’d like it dirty.” Spike teased, hot breath against the skin of her throat, damp from his mouth. 

“I’m not-!” Buffy tried to argue, but one of his hands had made its way between their bodies, pressing against the wet fabric of her underwear. His huff of a laugh made her cheeks burn, so she dug her nails into his scalp. Spike hissed at that, retaliating with a harsh rub of his fingers to her clit that sent sparks up her spine. 

“Wassat?” His voice was low in her ear, and all she could do was moan, hips chasing the movement of his fingers. He pushed her underwear to the side, slipping past her neatly trimmed curls, one finger slipping easily into her. “Hm?”

“Shut up.” Buffy groaned, trying to ignore his voice as a second finger joined the first, curling up inside of her in a way that had fireworks erupting behind her eyelids. 

“No one’s around, love. Can be our little secret, hm?” He pulled his fingers out of her, drawing back slightly, leaving Buffy reeling. 

“Wha-what?” She asked, sucking in a few lungfuls of air. Her leg twitched from where it was wrapped around his hips. His hand moved back to her hip. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” he leaned in, lips ghosting a trail up her jaw, fingers digging into the skin where her ass met her thighs, her skirt having ridden up slightly. “But I was promised a whole night, not a quickie in my kitchen. Hold on tight.”

“Wh- hey!” Buffy held on tighter when he stepped back, the security of the wall disappearing from behind her, his arms the only thing between her and a harsh tumble to the floor. Her hands released his neck so her arms could wrap around his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex. 

A yelp fell from her lips when he dropped her, landing on a mattress and bouncing a bit. Spike was already tugging her boots off her feet, and Buffy felt a brief moment of relief when her socks disappeared with them, still hidden away with the leather. He stepped back, dropping them to the floor. 

“Spike?” Buffy asked, feeling as breathless as she sounded, splayed out on his bed, silky sheets beneath her. 

His hands dropped to his belt. “Take your knickers off.”

“My what?” Buffy blinked, too turned on to even try and translate as he slowly started to unbuckle his belt. 

“Knickers, pet.” He repeated, laughing low in his throat when she didn’t move, abandoning his belt to climb onto the bed, hovering above her. Buffy looked up at him, weight resting on her elbows, eyes fluttering slightly when his hand trailed up her thigh, skipping anywhere she wanted him to touch, continuing to her hip. He tugged slightly at the waistband of her underwear. “Take em off.”

And then he was gone, up and off the bed, leaving Buffy to force her eyes back open to find him watching her. He had a hand resting low on his abdomen, skin pale against the black of his clothes. He raised a scarred eyebrow, and Buffy felt her blush deepen, but dug her heels into the bed, lifting her hips enough to hook her fingers into her underwear, pulling them down. Spike didn’t move, but for a slight tilt to his head, watching as she kicked her underwear off at last. She fought the urge to tug her skirt down to cover herself, not wanting him to know how uncomfortable she was. 

“You too.” Buffy breathed, and Spike finally lifted his gaze up to hers. 

“Lose the shirt and skirt, and we’ll talk.” He smirked down at her, one of his hands resting on his undone belt buckle. Buffy blinked, and realizing he wasn’t joking sent a traitorous jolt of excitement between her legs. 

Slowly, wiggling slightly, Buffy dragged her skirt down her hips, getting caught on her knees briefly before she was able to get them off. She sat up, wanting to at least have an ounce of her own dignity, hiding herself the tiniest bit from his view, as she pulled her blouse off, gaze dropping once she was naked. 

Spike stood, still completely clothed, at the foot of his bed.

Buffy fidgeted, pressing her knees together and starting to wrap her arms around her chest. Spike clicked his tongue, and her eyes flashed to his. 

“Lay back.” He nodded his head towards the head of the bed, starting to pull his belt from the loops. Buffy scooted back, all but melting into the pillows, eyes following every movement that Spike made. She tried to breathe as he dropped the belt to the floor, one hand going to the back collar of his shirt and pulling it over his head in a fluid motion that nearly made her head spin. 

Since when did skinny guys have muscles like that? His low chuckle let her know she’d been spotted ogling, and quickly averted her gaze as he slid the zipper of his jeans down. She wasn’t even sure what to expect anymore. 

Out of her peripheral, Buffy watched as Spike kicked off his boots, shedding his jeans and - oh. No underwear. He was naked, and crawling onto the bed, once more reminding her of a predator. 

His hands were soft, if not a bit cool, as he used them to part her legs, creating a V between her knees for his hips, and then he was above her. Buffy returned her gaze to him, immediately regretting it. 

His pupils were blown wide, blue barely a ring of silver around them, and she heaved in a breath, nerves tickling the back of her neck. 

“What do you like?” Spike asked her, ducking his head to nip at the corner of her jaw, soothing the sting with a wet kiss, moving down to her throat. Could he feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath his tongue?

“I - shit.” Buffy gasped, arching her back as he found a particularly sensitive spot at the base of her throat. 

“Hm?” He teased, sucking at the spot, releasing it with a wet noise. Buffy looked down, his elbows resting on the sides of her ribcage, looking up at her. “What was that?”

“What’s it matter?” She bit out, not wanting him to know how much she was actually enjoying this. He didn’t seem at all perturbed by her reaction, returning his attention to the base of her throat, licking a line up the muscle that had Buffy clenching her fists in the soft sheets. 

“Guess I’ll have to play around, see what makes the kitten hiss,” he paused, scraping his teeth along her collarbone as she sucked in a sharp breath. “And what makes her purr.”

With the end of his sentence, he slid further down her body, mouth landing on the inner curve of her left breast. His lips were gentle, pressing soft kisses to the skin of her chest, pausing when he got a whimper, moving away when he got a breathless giggle if he found a ticklish spot. Asshole. 

Buffy was struggling to breathe by the times his lips found her nipple, teeth scraping the sensitive skin, and Buffy couldn’t hold back the moan, nor the way her back arched, pressing herself more firmly against his mouth. Spike chuckled, using his left hand to reach up, large hand cupping her right breast, massaging gently as he widened his mouth, taking more of her breast into his mouth and sucking hard. Buffy keened high in her throat, the noise unfamiliar as it left her, his fingers pinching her other nipple at the same time. 

Releasing her skin, Buffy slumped back against the bed, sweaty skin sticking to the sheets as Spike glanced up at her through his lashes, grin smug. “Guess I was right.”

“About what?” Buffy asked, brow furrowing. 

“Perfect mouthful.” He answered, his grin dark. It took her a moment to figure out what he was talking about, shoving weakly at his shoulder when she remembered their first meeting. 

“God, do you ever shut up?” She groaned, sliding her fingers back into his hair to guide his mouth to her other breast. Spike went willingly, giving it the same treatment, before sliding further down her body, wet mouth trailing her sweaty skin, breath cool against her. 

When he settled between her thighs, angling her legs wider, Buffy didn’t know what to expect. Her first boyfriend had never brought up going down on her, and Riley was just bad at it. But, Spike had been blowing her expectations out of the water, so she just held still as his fingers trailed up her slit, gathering the moisture with a low chuckle. She closed her eyes. 

While she hadn’t had many expectations, she definitely had not expected him to part her with his fingers, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her clit that made her jump. 

“Fuck, kitten,” he breathed, head resting against the inside of her thigh. “Look at you, huh? Such a pretty quim, just for me, yeah?”

“Spike.” Buffy whined, growing impatient, forcing herself to remember she just wanted to get this over with. 

“Hush, just admiring, is all. So pretty.” Spike hummed softly, and Buffy was beginning to debate kicking him in the side of the head, when he dove in. 

Buffy choked on a scream, his tongue pressing in, swiping through from entrance and up to her clit, firm and gentle at the same time. Her fingers tightened where they were still in his hair, his low moan vibrating through her. 

A curse fell from her mouth as his tongue toyed with her clit, two fingers easily slipping back into her as they had in the kitchen, curling up to create sparks. Spike drew his mouth back, working his fingers in and out of her as he took a few large gasps of air. 

“Like that?” He asked, and Buffy nodded, eyes still firmly shut, but she could feel him staring up at her. “Soldier boy ever give it to you this good?”

Spike twisted his hand, palm pressing against her clit roughly, and her back arched, noises tumbling from her lips as she came, toes and fingers briefly losing feeling with the intensity of it. 

Mind foggy, Buffy drifted back to her body, Spike still working his fingers in and out of her, running his mouth now. “…at you, fuck. So fucking hot, feel so good, shit. Can’t wait to fuck you, gonna make it so good.”

Buffy whined, tugging at his hair, pulling him up easily, his mouth meeting hers roughly. She could taste herself on his tongue when it met hers, and she moaned, his body hard against her as he pressed her into the mattress. 

“Gonna let me fuck you now?” Spike murmured against her lips. Buffy gasped, legs tensing around his waist. “Yeah? Gonna make it so good, kitten, gonna make you forget about any other boy you ever fucked before me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Buffy nodded her head, no longer caring that she seemed desperate. She needed to know if other parts were as talented as his mouth and hands. He pulled back, much to her discontent, but he threw her a wink as he retrieved a condom, tearing it open with his teeth before rolling it on, stroking himself as he crawled back between her spread legs. She greeted him with a wet kiss, clutching her arms around his shoulders. 

“Atta girl.” He cooed into her ear before kissing her again, hand moving between their sweaty bodies to line himself up, tapping his cock against her clit in a way that had her biting down hard on his lower lip. Spike groaned, pushing into her in a long, hard thrust. 

“Oh fuck!” Buffy gasped, feeling tears springing to her eyes. Either, it had been too long, or he was bigger than she had thought. 

“Buffy?” His voice was hesitant, and when she shook her head, started to draw back. Panicking, she hooked her ankles around the backs of his thighs. 

“Just.” Buffy furrowed her brow, trying to breathe through the stretch, shifting her hips a bit. Spike groaned. “Gimme a sec.”

“Alright?” Spike asked, voice tense. Buffy forced a nod. 

“Big.” She managed to whisper, and felt his grin against her throat. Well, shit. 

“Too big?” His tone was back to the rough, gravely tone that she recognized, the feel of his finger pressing against her clit a welcome relief. 

“Fuck you.” Buffy bit out, teeth clenched together, even as the pain slowly started to subside with the movements of his finger. She shifted her hips, grateful when he got the message, drawing his hips back slightly, before pushing back in. 

“That’s your job.” Spike chuckled, lips against her cheek as he built up a steady rhythm, finger rolling her clit but never with enough pressure, fucking her slowly. 

“Thought you were gonna make me forget any guys before you?” Buffy opened her eyes, meeting his own eyes with a challenge. “Feeling kinda bored here, honey.”

She clenched down around him to make a point, and Spike let out a strangled groan, before pushing up to his hands, the cool air hitting her heated skin a shock. Her hands slid from his shoulders to grip onto his biceps as he drew nearly all the way out, before fucking back into her so hard it jostled her up the bed. 

One of his hands grabbed her leg, hitching her knee over his hips, changing the angle so he managed to hit even deeper, and then all bets were off. The hard and rough that she had anticipated seemed tame in comparison, one hand pressed to the pillows beside her head while the other dug into the flesh of her thigh, his hips going at a hard and fast rhythm. Buffy reached her hands up, bracing herself on the headboard to stop her body from sliding any further up the bed. 

“How’s this?” Spike rasped, looking down at her. Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Spike didn’t let up, occasionally switching his pace slightly enough to stop her orgasm in its tracks, then start back up. 

Buffy was babbling, head spinning, unsure if it was too much or not enough, but never wanting it to end. She couldn’t remember why this had been a bad idea, or why she ever doubted him. 

“Christ, look at you. Fucking made to take my cock, yeah?” Spike was still talking, and all she could do was nod, anything to keep him going. “Desperate thing, aren’t you? Could’ve fucked you right against the wall in my kitchen and you would’ve let me, huh?”

“Spike.” The name fell from her lips as a sob, needing him closer, needing to come, needing him to keep talking, just needing. 

“Need to come so bad, don’t you, poor girl? Want me to take care of you?”

“Please, please.” Buffy nodding again, fingers numb from how tightly she was gripping the bars of the headboard. 

“Look at me.” Spike’s voice was firm and her eyes fluttered open, not having realized that they’d fallen shut. His face was flushed, a few curls sticking to his temples with sweat, and she was struck by just how pretty he was. He pinched her clit and she screamed. “Come for me.”

He released her clit, and she did. 

Back arching, limbs tingling, a noise she heard but didn’t feel falling from her mouth. Spike fucked her through it, never breaking his pace, words she couldn’t understand tumbling past his lips. 

Gasping for air, Buffy let her eyes fall back shut, reaching blindly for Spike, catching his jaw and pulling him down to kiss her. He made a noise of surprise, but dropped to his elbows to kiss her, hips slowing to more of a grind as they made out, tears still streaming from her eyes as she trembled. 

Once her body felt like her own again, Buffy pushed her hips up, meeting his movements and trying to give as good as she got. Spike’s whispered curse as he tucked his face into her throat confirmed that she was doing it correctly. His fingers made their way between their bodies again, rubbing near painfully against her clit, drawing a third orgasm from her as she felt him spill into the condom in her. 

Collapsing against her, Spike stopped moving and speaking for the first time since she’d walked into his home. Buffy let her arms fall around his shoulders, enjoying the weight on top of her body. Her hands rubbed absently at his back until he rolled off of her, pulling out of her gently. 

“Whoa.” Buffy said after a long several moments of silence. Spike laughed, the sound bright in the otherwise quiet room. 

Chapter Text

Will laid on his side, the first rays of light still barely making their way through the tiny windows at the top of his walls. 

Buffy was asleep on her stomach, face turned in his direction. She had one arm curled into her chest, a few messy strands of hair brushing her cheeks. Her breath was coming out in soft puffs from her parted lips, and he wondered when he would have to wake her. He had work in a few hours, but knew that if she left she wouldn’t come back. 

Sighing, he pushed the covers off, going to grab his smokes, knowing he needed the reprieve. He had woken up a few hours prior, half thinking the whole night had been a very vivid dream, until she had still been there. 

They’d stayed up later than he’d intended; after the first round, he’d pulled her into the shower, and soaping her body had turned into Will pinning Buffy to the wall and fucking her with his fingers until she’d come again. Still wet, they’d stumbled back to his bed, making out until he was ready to go again, and he’d fucked her slow and deep until they were both too tired to go on, finishing off with a final few weak but no less satisfactory orgasms that had drawn them into sleep. 

“Christ.” He muttered, grabbing his jeans from the night before off the floor to tug on before he headed out the front door, the crisp morning air a refreshing chill to his system. He lit up his cigarette, watching the sky slowly turn pink as he thought. 

Now that he’d gotten a taste for her, Will felt the tug in his chest that he opted to ignore. Buffy was like the embodiment of sunshine, and he knew better than to get his hopes up. He’d done that before, and it had only ever ended in heartbreak, and Sunnydale was supposed to be his fresh start. No exes or painful memories, just a fresh job and the ability to vent his frustrations through his music. A girl was not part of the plan. 

Tossing the butt to the pavement, Will headed back inside, knowing he had to get ready for work, head already starting to hurt from the lack of glasses. How he’d remembered to take his contacts out the night before was beyond the life of him. 

Buffy was starting to stir as he climbed back into the bed. She rolled towards him, looking far too adorable for her own good. She shivered against his skin. 

“Buffy?” He stroked her hair. She mumbled, burying her face in between the pillows. He ran a hand down her spine, stopping at the curve just above her ass. 

Buffy hummed, turning her face and rubbing her eyes. 

“Time s’it?” She asked, voice just a touch raspy from sleep. 

“Early.” Will answered, and her back went rigid under his palm. He set his jaw, knowing what was coming. 

“Spike?” Buffy whispered, and he flexed his fingers on the sheet that separated their skin. 

“The one and only.” He told her, and she shot up, hands immediately going to cover her chest. 

“Shit.” She spun to sit, the blanket pooled around her waist as she looked around the room, eyes landing on her discarded clothes from the night before. “Shit.”

“Problem?” Will asked, deciding if she was going to run off, the least he could do was make it a bit easier for her. He leaned against the headboard. 

“I wasn’t supposed to say the night.” Buffy snapped, reaching down to the floor to grab her shirt with one hand, the other still covering her chest until she had the shirt on. She grabbed her skirt, pulling it on before standing up, looking around the room once more before grabbing her boots. “Where’s my underwear?”

“Should keep better track of your belongings, pet.” Will shrugged, holding back a face at his own remark. Buffy glared at him, hesitating for a moment before storming out of his room. Will got up and followed her, finding her leaning against the wall where she had dropped her bag the night before, tugging on her boots. 

“Not gonna stay for breakfast?” He teased, and Buffy froze, before standing up, adjusting her skirt. Her eyes fell to his stomach, down just a fraction to where his jeans hung low on his hips, before back up to his eyes. 

“Sunday. We’re having brunch at-.”

“What’s the soldier going to think when we don’t know shit all about each other?” Will asked before he could stop himself. 

“We can - um, we, uh…” Buffy blinked. 

Will decided to press his luck, walking towards her until her back was to the wall, similar to how he’d had her the night before. His dick twitched in his pants at the memory, and her breath caught. He leaned his hand against the wall beside her head. 

“He wants to do brunch on Sunday? Figure we should probably get some details figured out before then, hm?” He paused. “That gives us, what? Just under forty eight hours?”

“Give or take, yeah.” Buffy dropped her gaze. She scrunched her nose up, and Will had to hold back from leaning in to kiss the tip of said nose. “What do you say we do, then?”

“What time do you work tomorrow night?” He checked. 

“I open.”

“Come over here at one, we’ll pound out the details.” Will smirked, this pretty little blonde bringing out the absolute worst in him. 

“Alright.” She slipped to the side, away from him before leaning down to grab her bag, standing back up quickly and heading for the door. She paused with her hand on the handle, glancing back over her shoulder. “And no sex.” 

Will raised his hands in surrender. “What kind of a man do you think I am?”

Buffy rolled her eyes before disappearing from his home. Will waited a moment before letting his head drop painfully against the wall with a thud. She was going to kill him without even trying. 

Buffy scrubbed roughly at her skin in her own shower, memories flashing of talented hands doing the same thing the night prior. With a frustrated cry, she threw her loofah at the wall, stepping back under the warm stream to rinse her skin, tipping her head back to let the conditioner rinse out as well. 

She wasn’t supposed to be still thinking of him, and her body sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be reacting to said thoughts. It was supposed to have started and ended the night before, and all she should be worrying about was if Riley was going to believe them in a few days time. 

Shutting off the water, Buffy wrapped her hair and body in towels, going to her room to moisturize her skin and try to think thoughts of… well, thoughts of anything other than Spike. It wasn’t proving very successful, even after the five mile run she’d done that morning. Stupid Spike and his stupidly talented hand. And mouth. And cock. 

Fuck, now she was turned on again. 

Buffy did her best to conceal the hickey on her throat, but every time she tried to touch it, the twinge of pain shot right between her legs, so she left it only semi-covered. She chugged back two glasses of water before heading out of the apartment, glad Willow had gone to work right from Tara’s. She didn't want to have to worry about what her best friend might say to her. 

Smoothing her hair down where it was tied back in a low bun, she rushed out the door, not wanting to be too late to her job interview. Jenny, her godfather's wife slash her former high school teacher, had set it up for her. It was at a gym as a personal trainer, which Buffy had never quite imagined for herself, but it was better than nothing. She needed to be doing something during the days other than worrying about her mom and sister, and the extra money wouldn’t hurt. It felt like any money she tried to save would disappear the second it hit her bank account. 

The gym itself was rather intimidating as she walked up, hitching her bag a bit up her shoulder as her feet moved her forwards. The doors slid open before her, and her palms were sweating as she stepped into the building, a young girl smiling in greeting as she saw Buffy arrive. 

“Good morning, and welcome to the Ascension, where we help you ascend to a higher level. What can I help you with today?” Violet, if her name tag was correct, chirped out with a smile. 

“Um, I have an interview.” Buffy said. “With Faith?"

“Oh, you must be Buffy.” Violet nodded her head, checking a notebook. “I’ll just let her know you’re here. You can have a seat.”

Violet picked up a phone, and Buffy awkwardly sat down, shaking her knee with nervous energy. After the night she’d had, she wasn’t totally certain how she had any energy left at all, honestly. 

“Buffy?” A brunette girl who looked around Buffy’s age walked up, all confidence. Buffy jumped up. 

“Yup. That’s me. Hi.” She stretched her hand out for a handshake, but the other girl - Faith, presumably - just stared at it. 

“Yeah, not big with the formalities. I’m Faith, the general manager. Come with me, but the interview is mostly a formality.” Faith led her into the gym, where several people were working out independently on the floor. Buffy trailed behind her. 

“Just a formality?”

“Yeah, Jenny only had stellar things to say about you, and she showed us some videos from when you fought-.”

“I haven’t done that in a while.” Buffy interjected, worried her abilities were being vastly overestimated. Faith chuckled, pushing open a door and motioning for Buffy to walk through first. 

“I figured you would say that.” Faith grinned, and Buffy looked around the large studio room as the other girl moved ahead of her, pulling down some mats. 

“Are we doing the interview here?” Buffy asked, confused. 

“Did you think I asked you to wear workout clothes so we could sit in an office and I could ask you what your greatest strengths and weaknesses were?” Faith teased. Buffy frowned. 

“No?”

“Nope.” Faith adjusted the mats she had spread out on the floor. “I want to assess your technique.”

“What?” Buffy blinked, but Faith had already pulled out some boxing tape and was wrapping her hands. 

“Let’s go, B.” Faith tossed the tape over, and Buffy caught it on instinct, dropping her bag by the wall and starting to wrap her own hands. 

“I’m kinda rusty.” Buffy told her, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms a bit. She hadn’t done much - if any - fighting since her first two years of university, but then school had gotten the better of her, and Riley had told her fighting was a man’s sport and he found it unattractive, then they’d broken up and her mom had gotten sick. 

“B, I saw those fights. That was a natural talent. C’mon.” Faith motioned Buffy over, and she walked onto the mats, stomach in her throat. 

This job would pay nearly double what she made at the Bronze, and she would be able to actually help her mom and Dawn out a bit if she got it. 

Shutting her eyes, Buffy took a deep breath, flexing her fingers before Faith came at her. 

She dodged the first swing easily, leaning back, managing to grab Faith by the arm, nearly pinning her, until Faith was rolling out from under her, a wicked grin on her lips. Buffy ducked her head, kicking her leg out to sweep Faith’s feet out from under her, the taller girl tumbling down with a small shout. She was laughing as she got back to her feet, trying to catch Buffy off guard and catching her around the middle, but Buffy pushed off from the mats, flipping her body through the air and forcing Faith to lean back at an uncomfortable angle until she let go of Buffy. 

Buffy had her pinned thirty seconds later, and Faith tapped out easily. Buffy climbed off her, moving off the mats to stand. Faith was grinning wildly. 

“Knew ya still had it in you, B.” She said, patting Buffy’s shoulder. “Now help me clean this shit up so we can go fill out your employment paperwork.”

“You don’t have to check with the owner?” Buffy asked, dragging a mat towards the corner. 

“Richard? Nah, he’s got so many gyms around California, a giant snake could get loose in the halls and he wouldn’t notice.” Faith shrugged. “But, he pays well.”

“Well… okay.” Buffy agreed, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. “You sure you don’t want to do a more formal interview?”

“You’ve got a kind face, kind that won’t do anything wrong.” Faith shook her head, stopping as though her explanation made any sense. Buffy furrowed her brow, confused but grateful nonetheless as the followed Faith to the back to spend the next hour signing papers. 

Chapter Text

Will was just finishing putting his contacts in when he heard the short, sharp knock that let him know Buffy was at his door. 

“It’s open!” He called out, walking out of the bathroom and nearly groaning at the sight of her, knees threatening to buckle. Her trousers were leather. 

“What if I was a murderer?” Buffy asked, and he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Don’t think murderers knock, Goldilocks.” He shook his head, going to sit on his couch. Buffy walked over. Will couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, even as she sat on the furthest edge of the couch, keeping her back unnaturally straight. “Is this how you want to spend the afternoon, or did you want to come up with a proper cover?”

“I say we keep it as close to the truth as possible.” Buffy told him, hands fidgeting in her lap. “We met last month at the Bronze, it’s a fairly new relationship, so we haven’t met friends or family yet.”

“Right.” Will nodded slowly. “And, in this scenario, you took me up on my original offer?”

“Ugh, no.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Riley would never believe that. You asked me out properly, using manners and no gross British slang that I don’t understand.”

“And where’d I take you? Church?” Will couldn’t help but be an asshole, she was just making it so easy. 

“Do I have to come up with everything?”

“S’your plan.” Will shrugged. “I’m just the arm candy.”

“And I’m regretting it more and more by the second.” She crossed her arms over her chest, slumping back against the couch in a huff. She was already wearing the black muscle shirt she wore to the Bronze to bartend. Her head fell back against the couch, exposing the length of her throat, a barely visible hickey terribly covered by concealer. Will shifted, feeling himself getting hard just from the sight of it. 

“Right. So I took you out on a date…” he waved his hand through the air, trying to think of what Spike might do for a date. Will would take her to dinner, then maybe a museum or a boat ride, the sap that he was. “Drive-in movie?”

“What? Are you sixteen?” Buffy lifted her head to fix him with a glare. 

“What’s wrong with a drive-in?” He asked, offended. 

“No one goes to a drive-in movie on a first date.” She huffed, letting her head fall back once more, shoulders sagging slightly, and Will realized how exhausted she looked. 

“Why not? Everyone loved films for a first bloody date!” Will pointed out, and Buffy shook her head. 

“They never play anything new at drive-ins; they’re just glorified hook up points.” She chuckled, and he didn’t need her mentioning hooking up when she was looking like that with a mark he’d given her visible on her skin. Will slid closer, and Buffy didn’t react, too relaxed to notice, so he inched even closer, until he could reach out, hand falling to her hip.

Her head snapped up, eyes blazing, as his thumb grazed the skin where her shirt had ridden up. “Spike-.”

“What kinda man do you think I am?” He leaned in, knee pressed to her thigh, grinning when her breath hitched, pupils displaying slightly. “Takin’ a sweet thing like you on a first date and takin’ advantage of you?”

“That’s exactly the kind of man I think you are.” Buffy pointed out in a whisper. Will chuckled, using his free hand to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, letting his palm rest against her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered shut, leaning into his touch. 

“Nah, if I took you out on a real date?” He grinned at the thought, letting his fingers card through her hair. “You wouldn’t know what hit you.”

“Doubt it.” Buffy smiled, angling her head slightly so he could scratch his blunt nails across the base of her skull. 

“Yeah?” He leaned in closer. “Let me-.”

“Don’t.” Her eyes opened, and she moved to sit up, but he tightened his fist around her hair, forcing her to stay where she was. 

“Don’t what?” Will held her gaze as he spoke. 

“Don’t pretend this is something that it isn’t.” Buffy told him, her tone full of warning. He tightened his grip, enjoying the soft whine that fell from her lips, the way she struggled to keep her eyes open. 

“And what is this, exactly, then?” Will leaned in closer, letting his lips skim up her throat, feeling her pulse fluttering where he was barely touching her. The hand on her hip slid to the front of her leather trousers, popping the button and tugging down the zipper. Her legs spread, and he smirked, watching his hand disappear under the black leather, slipping beneath her underwear and through the short curls until-.

They both groaned when his fingers found her wet cunt. One of her hands flew to his wrist, holding tight as he let his finger ghost over her clit.  

“It’s nothing.” Buffy moaned out, even as he slid a finger into her, her muscles flexing, trying to drag him in further and faster. 

“Doesn’t feel like nothing to me.” Will slid his finger out, repeating the motion a few times before adding a second, grinding the heel of his palm against her clit. A whimper fell through her lips. “What does it feel like to you?”

Buffy shoved him away, sending him onto his back on the couch. Will opened up his mouth to apologize, worrying he’d taken it too far, until she was straddling his waist, dragging him up by the shirt and practically slamming her mouth against his own. He moaned, immediately opening his mouth for her tongue, slipping his hands down the back of her trousers to cup her ass over what felt like very lacy knickers. 

“I hate you.” Buffy growled into the kiss, and Will gave her ass a squeeze before pulling her down into his lap, loving the way she moaned as their hips met. 

“Course you do, kitten.” He nipped at her lower lip as she started to grind down against him. 

Buffy kissed him again, hands around the sides of his jaw, nails digging into the back of his neck and he rutted up against her. The kiss was dirty, teeth clicking together, messy and wet, and oh so good. When Buffy broke the kiss to breathe, Will continued down her throat. 

“Fuck,” she gasped, leaning back slightly. “Fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Mhm.” Will hummed, teeth working on the skin she had tried to cover with makeup. 

“I hate you.” She reminded him again, voice too breathy to have any venom to it. 

Will started dragging the leather down her hips, and she pushed up so he could get them down to her knees, thumbs hooking into her underwear to drag them down, too. 

“This is stupid.” Buffy added, leaning towards the back of the couch to pull her right leg from pants and underwear, hands going for his belt. 

“So stupid.” Will agreed, tugging her shirt and bra down to get his mouth on her tits, revelling in her moan as her shoe fell to the floor, her hand slipping into his pants to curl around his cock. “Fuck!”

He lifted his hips so he could shove his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free. “Condom?”

“Shit - lemme, fuck.” He lifted hips again, groaning when she tightened her grip just so, stroking him in a way that threatened to make his eyes roll back. Fumbling, he got his wallet out of his back pocket, struggling to use one hand to get the damned thing out. Buffy swiped it from his hands, tearing it open with her teeth in a way that should have been illegal, before rolling it onto him, as she lifted up higher on her knees. His fingers slipped out of her, wet fingers curling around her hip as she slid down onto him, practically slamming her hips down. 

Will moaned, eyes slamming shut as he tightened his fingers on her, holding her to him. Her nails dug into his shoulders, nearly piercing the skin through his t-shirt, clenching and unclenching as she tried to adjust to his size. He forced his eyes open to look up at her, her head thrown back, the muscles in her throat working as she struggled to take in a few gasping breathe. 

“How’s it feel?” Will asked, jerking his hips up slightly, the noise she made making his dick throb inside of her, resulting in another near painful clench of her muscles. 

“Spike.” Buffy panted, shifting her hips slightly. 

Will dug his fingers into her skin, right hand still sticky with her arousal. “Feel like nothing to you?”

“Fuck, do you ever - ah! - do you ever shut up?” She dropped her head forwards, lips meeting his to stop him from answering as she lifted her hips slightly, dropping them back down in a rolling motion. Will moaned, eyes nearly crossing at the way she sucked his lower lip into her mouth, biting down on it before drawing back. She repeated the motion, lifting her hips just a touch higher, slamming down just a bit rougher, working herself up into a rhythm that Will could do little but follow, fucking up into her to meet her thrusts. 

“Christ, you’re hot.” Will pulled away from her mouth, eager to get his tongue back on her chest. Buffy scoffed above him. “Burning me up, you are. Like the fucking sun, Christ. Squeeze me - shit, shit - yeah, like that, kitten, fuckin’ me so good, you are.”

Will slid his hands from her hips around to her ass, helping lift her up before she was dropping down. His shirt was sticking to his skin with sweat, and he licked up the column of her throat to taste the saltiness on her own skin. 

“You close?” He asked, feeling her chin bump his cheek as she nodded. Will bit down on her throat, sucking hard as he ground up into her, her scream filling him with pride as she clenched and fluttered around him, her release lasting several long moments before she was slumping forwards against him. His hips jerked up a few times before he was spilling himself as well, and then her fell backwards to lay on the couch, taking Buffy's limp form with him. She was breathing heavily as their skin cooled. Will kissed the crown of her head. 

Buffy didn’t speak, lifting up, wincing slightly as his cock slipped out of him. 

Will pulled off the condom, standing up and tugging his trousers back up as he tied it off and brought it to the kitchen to throw it out. When he walked back into the living room, Buffy was dressed, shirt and trousers back in place as she finished slipping her ankle boot back onto. She stood up, wobbling slightly as her knees buckled, and Will rushed to help her. 

“I’m fine.”  She said, trying in vain to fix her hair, before bending to grab her bag. 

“Buffy…” Will started, but trailed off with nothing to say. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Do you want me to come here first?” Buffy asked, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“Y-yeah. I can drive us.” He told her in a rush. Buffy nodded, then she walked away, keeping her gaze low. 

Will zipped himself back up, wondering what kind of a monster he had been in a previous life to be getting treated to such an exquisite form of torture. 

Chapter Text

Buffy tried the doorknob, rolling her eyes when it opened easily. The crime rate in Sunnydale might be low, but that didn’t justify Spike leaving his door unlocked all the time. She told him as much, loudly, unsure where he was in his small apartment, hearing his laugh as she rounded a corner. 

“Knew you would be here soon, is all.” Spike shook his head with a fond smile, but her brain was short circuiting a bit. 

Buffy paused, brow furrowing slightly as she took in his outfit. He was wearing his usual black shirt and black jeans combo, but with the addition of a red button up layered over top, somehow making his pale skin look even fairer. 

“Eyes are up here, kitten.” He spoke low, an almost growl to his voice that made her eyes jump up to his, feeling her face flush. 

“Are you ready to go?” Buffy asked, changing the subject and tapping her foot impatiently. Spike let out a breath of a laugh, nodding his head. 

“Course I am, pet. Let’s get out of here.” He let her lead them out, stopping to lock his door with a pointed glance over his shoulder at her, to which she rolled her eyes. 

“Hey!” Buffy jumped away when he tried draping an arm over her shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Getting into character.” He answered with a leer that made her remember why the two times she’d fucked him had been bad ideas. 

“None of that!” She snapped as they walked up to his car, a beat up old thing that creaked when he opened the door for her. 

“None of what? Thought the whole point of this was bein’ a couple.” He reminded her, holding on to the top of the door as she sat down. 

“Look, I held up my end of the bargain. Now it’s your turn.” Buffy grabbed the door, pulling it from his grasp and slamming it shut. Spike walked around the car, starting it up and slipping a cigarette between his lips. Buffy reached out, plucking it out as he went to light it. 

“Oi!” Spike snapped, reaching across the seat for it, and Buffy crushed it in her fist, enjoying the way his eyes widened. 

“Look, Riley knows I’m not one to shy away from PDA, and I’d rather not make out with an ash tray.” Buffy said as she rolled down her window, tossing the remnants out and dusting off her hands. Spike snickered. “What?”

“Didn’t seem to have a problem with it yesterday.” He smirked, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove. Buffy clenched her jaw, ignoring him to pull down the visor, flipping open the mirror at the reminder, checking the base of her throat. The concealer wasn’t doing much to hide the bruise that he had succeeded in worsening the afternoon prior.  Spike reached out, fingers curling lightly around her shoulder, thumb ghosting across the bruise. Buffy jerked away, slapping his hand as she tried to pretend she wasn’t reacting to him. 

“What did I say?”

“That you like PDA.” Spike brought his hand back to the steering wheel, and Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips. Instead of talking to him, she looked out the window, watching as the familiar streets of her home flew past. 

They’d moved there when she was sixteen, Dawn having just turned three, right after her parents divorce. Her dad had signed over full custody, and Joyce’s friend from when she had attended college overseas offered to help her find a job in the town he was working as a high school librarian in. Joyce had taken him up, giving Buffy a chaperone at her new high school and a much closer relationship with her and Dawn’s godfather, Rupert Giles. 

That had been twelve years ago, and Giles had quit his job at the high school not long after Buffy graduated, opening his own book shop. Joyce had spent the decade following their move working at the art gallery, often going out of town for work and leaving her daughters under his watchful supervision, and he’d become more of a father to them than their own father, who hadn’t made an attempt to contact them since the divorce. 

Buffy shook her head as they pulled up to the small cafe that they were meeting Riley and Sam at. Thoughts of the move and her dad and Giles just made her think of her mom, and she didn’t need to be worrying about that. Giles had taken her to the hospital for chemo, and Jenny was spending the day with Dawn. 

She was going to be no-worry Buffy, and go on her weird double date with her ex boyfriend, his fiance, and her fake boyfriend. 

Yay!

“Alright, pet?” Spike asked, and Buffy startled, realizing they had been sitting in the car for a few moments too long. 

“Yup. Let’s go.” Buffy pushed her door open, swinging her legs out and standing up. Spike met her at the front of the car, slipping his hand into her back pocket, throwing her a wink and a grin, knowing she wouldn’t push him away with the chance Riley might spot them. 

“Hi!” The hostess greeted them brightly. “Table for two?”

“No, we’re meeting-.”

“Buff!” Riley shouted, waving his arm through the air. 

“Buff?” Spike muttered under his breath as they walked over, and she elbowed him in the stomach as they approached the table. Sam stood up, Riley awkwardly following in suit. 

“Hey, I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Sam greeted, pulling Buffy into a hug. She looked to her side, eyes wide, and Spike laughed, covering it up with a cough. 

“Um, yeah.” Buffy pulled back, grateful when Spike pulled her chair out for her, helping to tuck her in before taking his own seat. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Of course! I told - hey!” Sam gave Riley a gentle shove where he was glaring at Spike, who was leaning casually back in his chair, arm draped over the back of Buffy’s chair. 

“Got something on my face?” Spike teased, making Riley go tense, and Buffy couldn’t help but roll her eyes fondly. 

“Spike.” She hissed, trying to hide her amusement, but Spike met her eyes with a shit eating grin of his own, before holding his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Sorry, love.” He winked, and Buffy turned back to the other two people. Riley looked a bit like he was trying not to shit his pants, and Sam was grinning widely. 

“You two are so cute.” She laughed lightly. “Have you two been together long?”

“Just since the middle of January.” Spike answered for them, reaching for the glass of water at his spot. “What about you two? Quite the rock you’re lugging around there, pet.” He nodded his chin towards the hand she had resting on the table, thumb stroking the back of Buffy’s neck. She relaxed slightly, glancing down at the menu. 

“Oh, just over a year.” Sam smiled, looking at Riley with moon eyes, and Riley returned them. “When you know, you know. Right?”

Buffy felt the bile rising in her throat, eyes starting to burn. She had thought she had known with Riley. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Riley asked, and Spike let out a low chuckle. Buffy glanced over at him. 

“What?” He grinned at her, eyes twinkling. “It’s a funny story!”

“Ooh, please tell.” Sam leaned in. Riley gave Buffy a look across the table that she ignored. 

“Moved here back over the holidays, yeah? Had my uncle and a few mates in town already, an’ my mates and I used to do music for shits and giggles back in secondary school.”

“High school.” Buffy supplied, pausing when she realized she had know clue how she knew that. 

“Anyways,” Spike continued to draw patterns on the back of her neck as he spoke. “Uncle owns the Bronze, so he asks us to play one night, and I see this absolute knockout behind the bar.”

“Spike.” She muttered, feeling herself blush. 

“Tried asking her for the time of day, and you know what she did?”

“You did not-.” Buffy started to argue. 

“Threw my bloody drink in my face!” He laughed, and Buffy tried to give him a shove, but he caught her arm, pulling her against his chest. She pulled back enough to meet his eyes. 

“You were being crude.” Buffy reminded him. He grinned. 

“You like it when I’m crude.” Spike spoke a bit softer, eyes dropping to her lips, and Buffy felt her blush deepen, before she pulled back, fixing her hair and glancing back across the table. Sam was looking at them like they were the cutest thing she’d ever seen, and Riley just looked confused. 

“Anyways,” Buffy picked up her menu, “I hear the pancakes here are some of the best in all of California.”

“S’because you bloody Yanks have never had a real pancake.” Spike muttered and Buffy looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes and shaking her head at the other girl. Sam laughed, and Spike looked up from his own menu, confusion evident on his face. 

“What?”

“Thanks.” Buffy said as Spike pulled away from the cafe. 

“Hm?” He glanced over for a moment before looking back to the road. “For what?”

“All…” Buffy waved her hand vaguely through the air. “…that.”

“Oh, that clears things up.” Spike nodded seriously before breaking out in a grin. 

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“Did you body switch with someone?”

“God, you’re such an asshole.” Buffy muttered as they stopped at a red light. They stayed silent until the light changed to green. 

“Was kinda fun, if I’m bein’ honest.” Spike offered, and Buffy turned to look at him. 

“You thought that was fun?”

“Well, Captain Cardboard looked a sneeze away from shitting himself.” Spike chuckled, and Buffy couldn’t help but join in. 

“Yeah, I noticed that.” She sighed softly. “They seem good together, though.”

“Think so?” Spike looked at her, and she averted her gaze, nodding. 

“Yeah. We were young when we got together, and we… I tried way harder than I should have to make things work, y’know? Riley always just wanted the white picket fence life, and I liked to think that was what I wanted, but who knows?” Buffy let out a watery laugh, reaching up to rub at her eyes before any tears could spill. “God, sorry. I’m getting all weepy and I don’t even miss him.”

Spike’s hand landed on her thigh, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “S’alright, love.” 

“You don’t have to keep pretending to be nice to me.” Buffy told him, suddenly uncomfortable. Spike being sweet was unfamiliar territory. “The date is done, and you already got what you wanted.”

“Not pretending.” Spike’s voice was soft, and he was refusing to look at her. His jaw ticked slightly. 

“You can just - you can just pull over here? I can walk home.” She was already unbuckling her seatbelt. 

“Buffy-.” Spike started, swerving to the curve and earning a few honks as he cut several cars off as Buffy opened her door. 

She didn’t let him finish, knowing it was a no parking zone, and slipping between a few buildings, heading quickly to her moms house. 

“Mom?” Dawn called as Buffy shut the door, leaning against it. 

“Just me!” Buffy panted, peering through the window, paranoid that he might’ve followed her, but the street was empty. 

“Oh, Buffy!” Jenny smiled as they walked up. “Joyce didn’t mention you were coming over.”

“Wasn’t planned.” Buffy shrugged as Dawn ducked in for a hug. “Was just in the area.”

“You smell like maple syrup.” Dawn informed her, and Buffy pushed her off with a laugh. 

“Stop smelling me, you little weirdo.” She shook her head, jumping when a car pulled up. 

“Oh, there’s Rupert and Joyce.” Jenny said, glancing through the window on the door. 

Buffy waited inside as her sister rushed out to greet their mother, linking arms with her as they walked inside. Buffy felt her stomach roll at the sight of her mom, cheeks gaunt, a scarf wrapped around her head. 

“Buffy.” Joyce’s voice was warm, almost relieved at the sight of her eldest daughter. Buffy smiled, moving to the side of her mom Dawn wasn’t occupying and linking her arm in a similar fashion. They walked to the living room together. “Rupert was saying that Jenny helped you get a second job?”

“Oh yeah, at the gym down near Restfield.” Buffy nodded, helping ease her mother onto the couch. “It seems really great.”

“Faith is a wonderful girl, if not a bit rough around the edges.” Jenny laughed, nodding her head. Buffy caught Giles’ eye as he stayed near the door. 

“I’m gonna go get a drink. Does anyone else want anything while I’m up?” Buffy asked, standing up. She headed to the kitchen, Giles meeting her there. 

“Buffy-.”

“What is it?” Buffy asked in a whisper, opening the fridge and pulling out the pitcher of orange juice. Giles didn’t speak as she grabbed down a few glasses. 

“They want to do an operation.” Giles spoke softly, and Buffy nodded as she poured the juice. 

“What kind of an operation? What about the chemo?”

“The chemo can only do so much, and it’s not working as well as they had hoped.” Giles paused, and Buffy looked at him. 

“What?”

“They want to try and remove the tumor.”

“Remove the…” Buffy paused, placing the pitcher down as her hand started to shake. “They want to perform brain surgery on her?”

“Buffy, they’re professionals-.”

“It’s her brain, Giles!” Buffy whisper-shouted. “What if something goes wrong? What if they kill her? What if-?”

“Buffy, nothing is set in stone.” He cut her off, pulling her against his chest, smelling of old books and hospital. Buffy took a shuddering breath, before extracting herself from his arms and grabbing a tray for the glasses. 

“What do we tell Dawnie?” She asked softly. Giles let out a breath. 

“They want to give it another round of chemo, and then they’ll reassess.” He explained, and Buffy nodded, throat tight, before plastering a smile on her face and heading back out. 

Chapter Text

Will hadn’t seen Buffy since she had all but fled his car after the non-date with her ex. He’d been avoiding the Bronze, which was really the only place he knew her to hang around. 

But, despite his best efforts, that was where he currently found himself. 

Clem was laughing loudly to his side, the bastard who had forced him from his flat to come and perform tonight. He’d gone so far as to make Will’s own uncle call to yell at him, the traitor. 

“C’mon, Spike,” Clem chuckled, bumping his elbow against Will’s side. 

“What?” He turned, confused. Clem laughed, looking at Lorne, who just sighed. “What’s going on?”

“Told you, he’s in la-la land.” Fred contributed as she tuned her guitar. 

“Am not.” Will huffed, crossing his arms, but unable to help his gaze from travelling across the crowded club to where Buffy was flitting around behind the bar. She was smiling widely, laughing as she flirted with patrons, and Will wanted to cry. 

He had known better, but he was stupid, and now he bloody well fancied a girl who thought of him as little more than gum on the bottom of a pair of shoes. 

“Let’s go, we’re almost up.” Clem grabbed him, dragging him to the side of the stage roughly. Will let him, shutting his eyes and trying to focus on being anyone but the sad sap who was pining after a girl that half the people in the room were drooling over. Who dated army men with big, broad shoulders and laughed without a care of who was watching. 

As his uncle announced them, he ran his tongue over his teeth and did his best to push the girl from his mind. 

Buffy was too busy making a bachelorette party a round of shots to listen as the next band was announced, mind still churning at a mile a minute. It had been a week since Giles had dropped the bomb on her, and whenever she hadn’t been at the Bronze or Ascension, she’d been at Revello Drive. 

Dawn was getting annoyed with her presence, no longer able to slip between the cracks when it came to homework and sneaking out. 

A rough voice filling the room shook her from her thoughts, and Buffy’s head snapped towards the stage. 

Spike was at the center, curls a gelled mess, eyes shut as he sang. Her stomach tightened, hands hands curled around the mic atop the stand, chipped black nail polish barely visible from the distance she was at. 

“Buffy!” Anya snapped, and Buffy nearly spilled the bottle of vodka she was holding. 

“Huh?” She blinked. 

“Drinks. Customers. Money.” Anya snapped her fingers and Buffy nodded, shaking herself out of it and going back to drink making. 

She was so focused on the task at hand that she didn’t even notice that the band had stopped, until she heard a familiar laugh. She spared a glance to see Spike talking to some girl, recognizing the busty blonde from high school. 

“Running to the bathroom quick!” Buffy told Anya, acting purely on impulse as she rushed across the bar, leaving Anya with only their new trainee bartender, Andrew. 

Buffy made quick work in the bathroom, before heading back towards the bar, keeping Spike in the corner of her eye as she neared him. He was wearing his duster, and Harmony was turned away to talk to one of his bandmates, giving Buffy the perfect opportunity to slip behind him, hand tucking into his pocket as she leaned close enough that her lips were brushing his ear. 

“Back alley, ten minutes.” The words came out in a rush, but she felt him react, before she was slipping back through the crowd. Once she was at the bar, she spared a glance in his direction, finding his dark gaze set on her, Harmony trying to get his attention back on her. 

Eleven minutes later, Buffy was painfully turned on and regretting her impulsive decisions as she stepped out the employees only entrance to the back alley. She didn’t even have the time to look around before her back was hitting a wall, a cool mouth against her own. 

She moaned, kissing him back eagerly, tugging him closer by the lapels of his coat as he slipped a leg between her own, giving her something to grind down on. 

“Christ, kitten.” Spike panted as she broke the kiss to moan. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Shut up.” Buffy told him, leaning in to kiss him again. He let her, hands slipping below her skirt to lift her up against the wall, pushing it up to her hips as he broke the kiss to look down. 

“Fucking look at you. You all wet for me?” He asked like he didn’t know, gripping her hips tighter with his left hand as he used his right to part her folds, underwear probably still tucked away in his pocket. 

“I only have fifteen minutes.” Buffy told him, leaning down to bite at his jaw. Spike moaned, shoving two fingers into her without warning, mouth moving to swallow the yelp she let out. 

“Knew you would be, dirty girl.” He rasped against her mouth, working his hand hard and fast into her. Buffy couldn’t form a response, ankles locking behind his hips, under the length of his jacket. 

“Hurry up.” She hissed out, mind solely focused on one thing, and one thing alone. Spike chuckled, but she heard his zipper, felt him adjust his hold as he slipped his fingers out of her, a crinkle of plastic, and then he was slamming into her. 

Buffy sobbed out a moan, dragging him back down for another kiss, eyes rolling back as he pulled her hips down, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. 

One hand curled around her ass, blunt nails digging into her skin as he fucked her, the angle of his hips resulting in a delicious drag of her clit against her pubic bone. Spike stopped kissing her, dropping his face to her chest and mouthing over her clothed breasts, biting down hard in a way that had her coming faster than she ever had. 

“Spike.” She panted, but he kept going, driving his hips up into her at a nearly brutal pace until she was careening over the edge again, pulling him closer as he moaned in completion. 

Buffy held him against her body, feeling the way he slumped against her, holding her up. He was pressing wet kisses to her upper chest and neck, cock rapidly softening inside of her. 

“I think my break is done.” Buffy whispered, worried Anya might come out looking for her. Spike nodded against her throat, leaning back and pulling out of her gently. 

Once her feet were on the ground, she tugged her skirt back into place, straightening her shirt a bit before running her hands through her hair. Spike was buckling his belt back up, but reached out to grab her when she went for the door. 

“Spike-.” She repeated his name, but he was pulling her close and kissing her deeply, her arms crushed between their bodies. Her mind was a bit fuzzy when he broke the kiss, his forehead leaning against her own. 

“M’keeping the knickers.” He told her, voice low before he let her go, spinning her around and giving her ass a gentle smack. Buffy turned to argue with him, but he was already walking away, down the alley. She stared for a moment before going inside. 

Will sat at his desk, trying to read the paper in front of him. A knock gave him a reprieve as he looked up. 

“Miss Summers,” he smiled at the sophomore. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I, um.” She swung her backpack to her stomach, digging into it. “I have the paper on Edgar Allen Poe.”

She walked over, hand shaking slightly, brow furrowed as she dropped it on his desk. Will studied her face, her eyes rimmed red. 

“Are you alright, Miss Summers?” He checked, and she rubbed a hand over her cheek. 

“Yup. Totally fine.” She smiled, and Will frowned, standing up. 

“Miss Summers,” he spoke slowly, moving around to sit on the front of his desk. “If there’s something wrong-.”

“Nothing's wrong, Mr Pratt.” She told him, and his mind jumped to what Snyder had said about her mother. 

“I’m here if you need to talk about anything.” Will told her earnestly. She looked down, shuffling on her feet slightly. 

“It’s just…” she shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who… well, she, um.”

“She…?” Will pushed. The young girl adjusted her hold on her backpack in a way that reminded him of Buffy. He pushed the thought from his mind. 

“Nevermind. I should go. My sister is being super weird about me coming straight home from school lately, like she didn’t totally break every rule our mom ever made.” She gave Will a small smile before turning and leaving the classroom. Will sighed, reaching behind himself to pick up her paper, standing and rounding his desk again, sitting down to grade it. 

“What do you mean?” Willow asked, head tilted to the side. Buffy sighed. 

“I don’t know. It’s all to science-y for me.” Buffy shrugged, dropping her spoon into her ice cream bowl and leaning back in her seat, pulling her leg to her chest. 

“Buff, if Giles doesn’t think you should be worried-.” Willow started, but Buffy cut her off with a loud sigh, standing and grabbing her empty bowl to carry to the kitchen. 

“Giles is trying to protect me, like always.” She muttered, turning on the water to rinse out her bowl. Willow came up beside her. 

“Maybe that’s okay?” Willow offered, and Buffy snapped her head up. “Wait, just hear me out!”

“Wills, my mom-.”

“Doesn’t want you to spend every waking second worried about her.” Willow reminded her. “If the doctors haven’t said to worry, try not to. It’ll give you wrinkles.”

“Will not.” Buffy gasped, clapping her hand over her forehead. Willow nodded, and Buffy sighed, leaning her hip against the counter. “I just… I can’t not think about her. It’s all that’s in my head, and if I’m not with her, it’s even worse. I, like, can’t turn off my mind.”

“Buffy, it’s normal to worry.” Willow spoke softly, guiding her out of the kitchen and to the living room. “But you can’t just stop living your life until she gets better.”

“But what if she doesn’t?” Buffy asked, voice going high. Willow forced her to sit down. 

“Maybe try getting a hobby?” Willow tried. “You’re working at the gym now, what if you got back into fighting? I’m sure they can point you in the right direction.”

“You and Xander planned this, didn’t you?” Buffy accused. Willow shrugged. 

“We’ve been worried about you.” She offered. “And we miss our Buffy.”

“I miss you guys, too.” Buffy admitted, leaning towards her best friend. “I just feel like I can’t be me until mom is better.”

“Don’t you think it’ll be good for her to see you back to your old self?” She encouraged, giving Buffy a squeeze. Buffy nodded, shutting her eyes and sighing. 

Chapter Text

Buffy stood outside Spike’s door, shifting her weight back and forth on her feet. She knocked again, listening to a loud thump followed by a muttered curse, and then the door was swinging up.
“What do you- oh.” Spike blinked at her. “Buffy. Hi. What are you doing here?”
“Can I, uh, come in?” She asked, and Spike nodded, stepping back to let her come in. He shut the door behind her as she stopped walking, and he stepped around her to head into the kitchen.
“If you’re here to tell me to fuck off, remember your the one who initiated the last two times.” He pointed out, and Buffy pursed her lips, not in the mood to remind him he had been the one to slip his hand down her pants on his couch.
“That’s not why I’m here.” Buffy said instead, fidgeting with the bangle on her wrist. Spike pulled a beer out of his fridge, twisting off the cap and taking a slow pull from the bottle.
“So, what? You were in the neighborhood and just decided to pop in for a friendly hello?” He accused, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Buffy bit her tongue.
“No. God, are you always such an asshole, or do you save it all up for me?” She huffed out.
“Let’s just say you’re special.” He mocked, and Buffy shook her head.
“You know what? Nevermind. Clearly this was a bad idea.” Buffy turned, starting back towards the door.
“Wait, pet, you know I’m just teasing. Hey.” Spike caught up with her, catching her wrist and tugging her back a bit.
Buffy pulled herself from his grasp, but turned and faced him, reaching out to steal his beer, taking a sip and wrinkling her nose. She’d never understand why people chose beer when they could choose something that didn’t taste vaguely of piss. Spike took it back from her.
“So, what’s the emergency?” Spike asked, waiting expectantly. Buffy sighed.
“I want sex.” She blurted out, immediately blushing when Spike’s eyebrows shot up.
“Well, now I’m all ears.” He was grinning now, and Buffy let a harsh breath out of her nose. Spike stepped closer to her, and Buffy pushed against his chest.
“Not - I don't mean right now.” She clarified, but she could smell him and it wasn’t helping her argument. Buffy shut her eyes to try and force herself to remember the speech she had planned out.
“No?” Spike was closer, hooking a finger into her belt loop and tugging her against his body, her eyes opening up to look up at him. She shuddered against him, before grabbing his hand and pulling it off her, keeping it in her grasp and leading him towards his couch.
Spike sat down, curling a hand around the back of her thigh, attempting to tug her onto his lap, but she pulled away, knowing she wouldn’t be able to actually get any words out if she was too close to him. He let her go, leaning back, arms spread across the back of the couch, shirt riding up just so in a way that made her mouth go dry.
Buffy sat down beside him, before immediately standing back up, needing a bit more distance from him.
“I don’t want a relationship.” She started, looking around the room, the walls bare.
“You want a booty call?” Spike asked, and Buffy frowned, because. No, that made it seem wrong.
“No, I just…” she waved her hand through the air, willing the words to come to her.
“You just…?” Spike pressed, a sharp edge to his voice. Buffy looked back at him, finding his eyes not nearly as expressive as she was used to.
“I have a lot of shit going on in my life, okay? And my friends think I need a hobby.” Buffy tried, and Spike’s jaw dropped slightly.
“A hobby?” He repeated, clearly offended. Buffy groaned, sitting down beside him.
“A distraction. Maybe? I’m not good with words.” She dropped her face to her hands. Any second now, he was going to laugh in her face and kick her out. “Nevermind, sorry, I just-.”
Buffy started to stand, embarrassed beyond all belief, when his hand caught her knee. She looked down at it, like it was a foreign object. “Didn’t say no, now did I?”
“What?” Buffy looked back at his face. Spike was already staring at her, studying her face.
“Sell it to me.” He encouraged, lips quirking up ever so slightly.
“Sell it…?” Buffy furrowed her brows. Spike patted his lap, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
“Convince me.”
“I…” Buffy paused. He wasn’t asking her for anything that she wasn’t asking him, it was only fair.
Swinging a leg over his legs, Buffy found herself in his lap, strong hands gripping the backs of her thighs, holding her up and preventing her from settling. His eyes dropped to her chest, then back up to her eyes.
Buffy reached down, pulling her shirt over her head easily, the cool air in his apartment causing goosebumps across her skin. Spike hummed, eyes falling to her bare breasts - she had forgone a bra that morning, and he seemed to be appreciating it.
“And what about me?” He asked, not touching her but for his hands outside her jeans.
“What about you?” Buffy asked, almost offended. Hadn’t this whole thing started because he’d wanted to have sex with her.
“You get sex on demand,” he breathed, leaning in and letting the tip of his nose run up the inside of her breath. Buffy’s breath caught, hands clutching his biceps. “Is this a two way street?”
“Uh…” Buffy hadn’t thought that far. She hadn’t really thought anything through. Spike’s lips pressing to her sternum made his brain stop working for a second.
“Well?” Spike pressed, and Buffy looked down to meet his eyes, his chin pressed between her breasts so he could look up at her. She swallowed.
“I have a lot going on.” Buffy reiterated. Spike clicked his tongue.
“You think I just spend all day, sitting here, waiting for you to come knocking?” He asked, and Buffy frowned. She’d never really considered that he might have a life beyond sleeping around at the Bronze. “Could be off chasing tail, if I wanted to.”
Buffy clutched tighter to his shirt, not liking the thought of him chasing after another girl when-. She shut her eyes, pushing the thought away, before an idea hit her, and she opened them again. Her hands moved to cradle the base of his skull.
“No other girls.” She started, shaking her head when he went to interrupt her. “No other girls, we both get tested, and I’m already on the pill.”
Spike’s eyes went wide, almost in awe. He blinked a few times, trying to process her words. “You saying what I think you’re saying, kitten?”
“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” Buffy prayed he couldn’t feel the way her heart was hammering in her chest. His fingers dug into the backs of her thighs, forcing her body to lean against him more.
“I think,” his voice came out in a low growl that shot straight between her legs. “That you’re saying if we do this, you’ll let me fuck you raw.”
Buffy stared down, words caught in her throat, so turned on she was afraid she might melt into a puddle right there. She let her eyes wander around his face, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts, before pushing out of his arms.
After bending to grab her shirt, Buffy started for the door, tugging it over her head. She paused just before walking out, glancing back to where Spike hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch, eyes following her movements. His hands were curled into fists around the cushion he sat on, knuckles white, a very visible bulge in his jeans.
“Let me know your choice.” Buffy threw at him, before slipping out into the late afternoon.

Will slid onto the barstool, making sure he hadn’t been noticed. He hadn’t been to the Bronze in nearly a month, caught up in grading papers and getting report cards out, at least, that’s what he’d told his uncle and his bandmates.
The collar of his duster was flipped up, and he’d taken his time getting ready that night. Fresh coat of black polish on his nails, freshly bleached hair, and a quick wank to calm his nerves. The envelope tucked away in the inner pocket of his jacket felt like it was burning a hole into his skin, but he ignored it as his eyes found their target.
Buffy was behind the bar, hair falling in waves around her shoulders, using two hands to mix a drink as she listened to someone rattle off another order. She nodded, smiling at them before pouring the drink out and handing it to a different customer, taking their money before starting on a new drink.
Staying as far as he could, Will ordered a beer before moving back into the crowd, worried she might catch sight of him. He wasn’t totally certain why he was worried, since he had full intentions of making his presence very known by the end of the night, but he couldn’t shake the nerves.
No amount of leather or nail polish would ever be able to cover up what a pansy he was. But, he could pretend to be Spike, pretend to be the kind of guy who took what he wanted and gave no fucks. Especially if that was the kind of guy Buffy wouldn’t mind having in her life.
Will’s train of thought came to an abrupt halt when some sod walked up to the bar, his shirt obscene and colourful, and Buffy leaned over the bar to give him a hug. He spoke into her ear, and her face lit up, laughing animatedly, and Will’s heart sank to his feet.
Had she gone and found someone else, because he’d been too afraid to come back and see her? Buffy wasn’t the kind of girl to wait around, but the hopeless romantic he was always trying to hide away had poked his head out, yearning for her. The prick.
Buffy was still talking to the tall brunette guy when a red headed girl appeared, giving the guy a hug as well, before Buffy was leaning over to kiss her cheek, waving to a third girl who was holding the redhead's hand. The blonde never stopped mixing drinks, maintaining a conversation with the group for several minutes, before the other female bartender, Anya, walked up to the group.
The tall guy stood straighter, moving to hide behind his two female friends while Anya spoke to him. Buffy stood behind the other bartender, very obviously trying not to laugh as Anya spoke very seriously. The blonde friend hid her face against the redhead’s shoulder, her own shoulders shaking with laughter that Will couldn’t hear.
But then, the brunette guy was backing away, scratching at the back of his neck and dragging the girls with him. Will made sure to stay tucked into the crowd as they passed them.
“It’s not funny!” He was complaining loudly.
“It kinda is. Buffy told you it was a serious crush.” The redhead laughed.
“It was one date!” He whined.
“Anya seems to think it was a wonderful, magical, oh, what was it…?”
“Orgasmic!” The redhead supplied happily, finishing the blonde’s sentence as they got out of Will’s earshot. He turned to watch them go, leaving the club, before turning his head back to watch Buffy.
Finding a seat tucked into the back, Will settled in, deciding to wait out the last forty five minutes before the Bronze would be closing, slipping into his uncle's office as it started to empty. He’d snooped enough to know that Buffy would be closing, and if she was going to laugh in his face, he wanted to at least have a semblance of privacy.
It was nearly two thirty when it quieted down enough that he knew it was just the two of them left. Will walked silently out of the office, rounding the corner to find Buffy sweeping, shoulders slumped. She looked exhausted, and he nearly back tracked, not wanting to make himself known, but then her head was snapping up, and her eyes were finding his.
“Spike.” Buffy’s voice came out clipped, before she looked back down to the floor to resume her sweeping. Will froze.
“Alright, pet?” He asked cautiously, and she barked out a harsh laugh.
“Just peachy.” She snipped, getting a bit more aggressive with her sweeping. Will walked over, grabbing the broom to halt her movements, and Buffy went tense for a moment.
“Brought you a present.” Will told her, and she glared up at him as he tucked his free hand into his pocket, extending it out to her with an envelope in his grasp. Buffy looked down at it.
“You waited until after close to give me a letter?” She asked, looking at him with an annoyed disbelief. He scoffed, waving the paper in the air until she rolled her eyes and took it, releasing the broom at last. Will moved to lean in against the bar as she opened the envelope.
It took a moment, then he heard a soft breath.
“Really?” She asked, voice soft, and Will turned to find her staring at him.
“You asked, I delivered.” He said with a flourish of her hand, enjoying the pink that was appearing on her cheeks. Buffy swallowed, and Will watched the muscles in her throat work, entranced.
“I figured the weeks of silence was your answer.” Buffy said after a moment, walking over to pick the broom back up. Will caught her hand. “What?”
“Let’s get outta here, ya?” He encouraged, feeling breathless, half hard in his jeans just from her presence, even after the wank before leaving home. Buffy let out a startled laugh.
“Spike, I have to clean up, and-and I still need to get tested!” She tried, but he was already cornering her against the bar, his hands gripping the ledge on either side of her. Will tucked his face into her throat, enjoying the smell - strawberry and vanilla, a touch of beer and sweat. He let his tongue taste her skin, and felt her knees buckle, his hands catching her by the hips.
“You ever been fucked raw?” Will panted, drunk at the thought. He’d fucked his ex, Drusilla, raw, but usually too high for it to make a difference.
“N-no.” Buffy let her head drop back, giving him more access to her throat. Will hummed.
“I can pull out.” He assured her, mouthing along her skin. One of her hands caught his bicep.
“I’m - ohh - I’m on the pill.” She pressed her hips forward, eliciting a hiss from Will. “Have been since I was seventeen.”
“Let’s go.” He practically whined against her throat. He needed to be inside her yesterday, felt ready to combust at the thought.
“I have to - oh fuck me!” She groaned as he bit down on the skin just below her ear. He chuckled.
“S’what I’m trying to do, kitten.” He slid his hands under her shirt, exploring the familiar, warm skin on her back as he got a thigh between her legs.
“Closing duties,” Buffy panted, hands gripping the leather sleeves of his jacket, hips rolling against his thigh. “Fuck. Gotta, uh, gotta close up.”
“Lemme fuck you first.” Spike begged her, throbbing in his trousers. He brought his mouth up her jaw, nipping and kissing the skin as she practically fucked herself against his leg, Will keeping the muscle tense for her. “Yeah, kitten? Let me fuck you right here where you work, hm? Bend you over this counter, fill you up like no one else has?”
Buffy nodded, holding him close, letting out an anguished cry when he pulled back.
“Spike.” His name came out on a sob, and she was trying to kiss him, sucking his tongue into her mouth in a downright filthy way that nearly made Will lose his train of thought.
He forced himself to pull back, turning Buffy around, pulling her back to his chest and grinding his hips against her ass. She moaned, low as she slumped forwards against the bar, and Will spread her arms out to stabilize her.
The bar was quiet, the only noise her heavy breathing as he unzipped her trousers, pulling them down to her knees and forcing her to bend further. She gasped, and Will slipped his fingers into her with ease. Buffy jerked against him, and he shoved his own jeans down with his free hand, slipping his fingers out of her and watching her cunt flutter around nothing as he used her arousal to coat his dick.
“Ready, kitten?” He asked, angling himself, barely seeing her nod from the corner of his eye, attention focused on his cock as he pushed it into her. Buffy moaned, clenching down, trying to drag him in faster, and he had to grab her hips, forcing himself to pause.
It was everything. Hot and wet, so smooth and soft, pulsing around him, better than any drug he’d ever done.
“Please,” her gasped out sob brought him back to reality, where she was squirming, trying to fuck herself back on his cock. He laughed low in his throat, sliding out a fraction before roughly pushing back in, loving the view of her pussy greedily sucking him back in.
“Fuck, look at you.” Will found himself speaking softly, nearly about to write poetry about her. “Fucking made for my cock, weren’t you? Always gonna be the first to fill you like this, huh?”
“Yeah,” Buffy was nodding against the counter, up on her toes, no real leverage to do more than lay there and take it.
Will was slow, purposeful as he built up a pace, careful not to go too fast or hard, not wanting it to end too soon. Buffy was gasping with every thrust, biting down hard on her lip when he let his fingers brush her clit. She clenched so hard his eyes nearly crossed.
“Like that?” Will panted, picking up his pace. Buffy was still nodding, face red and sweaty, hair sticking to her skin. She looked glorious, and Will picked up the pace of his fingers, needing her to get there first.
Just as he felt the telltale flutter of her cunt, Will slumped onto her back, pressing hard against her clit as they both came. He pressed his face between her shoulder blades, hand rubbing her hip as they both came down.
When he pulled out, Will watched her gentle twitch, pausing at the sight of his come leaking from her, unthinkingly using his fingers to push it back up into her. Buffy moaned, jerking slightly at the sensitivity, but not pushing him away.
Wondering how much he could get away with, Will rolled her over, tugging her trousers the rest of the way off, leaning in to get his mouth on her.
“Oh god.” Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling so deliciously tight as their combined release trickled into his tongue and he moaned, gripping her thighs, cleaning up the bar completely forgotten.

Chapter Text

The door slamming down the hall made both Joyce and Buffy jump. 

“She’s still not talking to Janice?” Buffy asked with a defeated sigh. Joyce shook her head. 

“No, it’s been a few weeks now.” Joyce let out a soft hum, stirring her tea, one of the only things she was ingesting as of late. 

“And no idea what happened?” Buffy frowned, looking back down at the carrots she had been cutting. Who was even going to eat dinner, anyways?

“I think it’s a boy thing. Did you and Willow ever fight over boys?” Joyce wondered aloud, and Buffy couldn’t contain her snort of laughter. 

“Willow only dated one boy, and he was the least masculine guy I ever met.” She pointed out, and her mom hummed softly. 

“I guess so. Do you think she would have ever fought over girls with Xander, given the chance?” She pressed, and Buffy made a face. 

“Can we talk about something other than my friends and I fighting over romantic partners.” Buffy shuddered. 

“How’s the new job going?” Joyce gave her with a soft sigh. 

“Fine. Faith seems to enjoy having someone else to run the classes that knows technique from experience, rather than just a print out.” Buffy paused. “Or a kung-fu movie.”

“I’m just glad you found a way to direct your aggression in a healthy way before you got expelled a second time.” Joyce teased, and Buffy glanced over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes at her mom. 

“You know, you should be nicer to me when I’m holding a knife.” She tried, enjoying the bright way her mother laughed behind her. It felt like her laughs were few and far between.  

“I think I’ll take my chances.” Joyce let her laughter die down. “Have you got dinner covered? I think I might go and lay down for a bit.”

“Of course. I can even try to convince Dawnie to do some homework.” Buffy assured her. 

“Oh, good luck with that.” Joyce scoffed lightly as she stood from the barstool. “If you manage that, maybe see if she will deep clean her bathroom while she’s at it?”

“I’ll do my best.” Buffy smiled, listening as her mother made her way upstairs. As soon as the door was shut, Buffy put down the knife and went to her sister's room, walking in without preamble. 

“Hey! Ever heard of knocking?!” Dawn squeaked out, rushing to pull a hoodie on. Buffy stopped her, yanking the material from her hand! “Buffy! Give it back!”

“Sneaking out? Really?” Buffy sighed, getting the sweater out of her hands, finding her fifteen year old sister wearing a top that would have made even her younger self blush. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“God, what’s it matter? Give me back my-!”

“You need to change now, and then we’re having a talk.” Buffy said, turning to face the door with her arms crossed. 

“Can I have some privacy, at least?” Dawn whined. 

“You can have privacy once I’ve made sure you’re not dressed like a Playboy Bunny.” Buffy said over her shoulder, listening to her sister's frustrated growl, before a drawer was opening. Once she was changed, she threw the tiny scrap of material that Buffy refused to even call a shirt at the back of her head. “Real mature.”

“Like you didn’t sneak out when you were my age.” Dawn bit back as Buffy turned around, finding her sister sitting cross legged on her bed. Buffy sat down in front of her. 

“What’s going on with Janice?” Buffy pressed softly. 

“Ugh, nothing! Why does everyone think there’s something going on? I didn’t know we had to be attached at the hip!” Dawn climbed off of her bed, going to one of her drawers. “You want my clothes? Fine. Here!”

She started digging through her drawers, tossing tiny tops that Buffy had no idea how she’d gotten at her head. Buffy scrambled to catch them all. “Dawn!”

“What?!” Dawn snapped, turning to look at her Buffy, breathing heavily, clothes clutched in her hands still. Buffy stared at her, frowning. Dawn started throwing clothes again. 

Buffy stood, making her way over to her younger sister, pulling the shirts from her hand and tossing them to the bed, before grabbing her younger sister by the arm. Dawn struggled, trying to hit at Buffy with her free hand, but Buffy barely flinched, dragging her out of the bedroom and down the hall, out the front door, grabbing the keys on the way. 

“Where are you taking me, you freak?” Dawn screamed, still trying to claw at her sister. Buffy shoved her towards their moms jeep. 

“Get in the car.” Buffy instructed. Dawn crossed her arms, planting her feet. 

“Not until you tell me where we’re going.” She demanded and Buffy paused in front of the jeep, pausing to take a deep breath. 

“You’re mad, I get it, Dawnie.” She turned back, walking over to face her sister, pointing at the house. “But that shit you just pulled? Not happening.”

“But you-.”

“Got expelled when I was your age.” Buffy reminded her harshly. “You want to be mad? Fine. We’re going to the gym, and you’re going to take it out on a punching bag. Not your friends, not me, and sure as hell not mom.”

“I haven’t been taking it out on anyone.” Dawn sniffed, somewhat petulantly. 

“So why haven’t we seen Janice in the last month?” Buffy challenged. Dawn glared, jaw set, before letting out an angry huff of air and climbing into the jeep. Buffy clenched the keys in her hand, before rounding the jeep herself and heading towards her work. 

Will hummed softly to himself, a melody he was working on himself, as he walked through the halls of the school. It was nearly spring break, and the kids were restless, but he couldn’t be bothered, instead making plans for next time he saw Buffy. 

It had been fairly regular that she’d shown up at his flat, demanding sex - not that he’d ever refuse her. She was a bloody force to be reckoned with, and reckon with her he did. 

He half wondered how his dick hadn’t fallen off yet, not just from the amount of times he’d fucked her, but the pure amount of times he’d had to have an unplanned wank, thinking of her at inopportune moments - right before he had to leave for work, when the band was about to get together. 

Will was fairly certain he had wanked less when he had been a school boy, and that was saying a lot, since he’d spent most of his youth pining after girls that were out of his league. Not that that wasn’t what he was doing, but now he also had the reality of what she looked like, what she sounded and tasted and felt like. 

Fuck. 

He had to think of something else because work was not the place for these kinds of thoughts. 

Nearly running into a student managed to bring his mind back to the present, nearly knocking the girl to the ground. 

“Gah!” She jumped back, stumbling slightly. His hand reached out to catch her arm before she could fall. 

“Miss Summers?” He nearly laughed, face falling when he caught sight of her face. She quickly shook herself, long dark hair falling into her face. 

“Sorry, Mr Pratt, I have to get to chem-.” She started, trying to pull back. Will didn’t let go of her arm, frowning at her. She forced out a chuckle. “Hello?”

“I’ll write you a note. Come with me.”

“But I-.”

“Miss Summers.” He repeated her name, leaving no room for argument. She paused before sighing. 

“I’m fine.” She tried.

“We‘ll let the vice principal decide that.” Will shook his head, and the girl pulled back. “Miss Summers…”

“I’m fine.” She repeated, hair falling from her face to reveal the bruising that let down her eye to her cheek. Will raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. “My sister-.”

“Your sister did this?” He gasped, suddenly remembering Snyder’s words about her troubled, older sister. 

“Oh god, no!” Dawn gasped, eyes going wide and shaking her head, looking around the vacant hall. 

Will sighed, leading her to his room, shutting the door behind them. “Explain.” 

“So, last night, I got kinda… well, I was being a bit of a bit-ter teenage.” Dawn tried to save herself. “And my sister was, like, a mega, um, bitter teenager, right?”

“Right.” Will leaned against his desk, crossing his arms over her chest, waiting for an explanation that didn’t have him reporting them to family services. 

“So, she, well, she used to fight, like, boxing or something? And she dragged me to the gym to make me ‘take my anger out on punching bags’.” Dawn finished with air quotes, then shrugged. “Turns out, if you hit them hard enough, they hit back. Hard.”

Her cheeks were burning red, and she was avoiding his gaze, and Will couldn’t help the bark of laughter that fell from his lips, immediately trying to cover it with a cough. Dawn shifted awkwardly. 

“You could probably call the gym, they have everything there on camera.” The young girl sighed softly. “And they made me go to the hospital to check for a concussion, which, like, way embarrassing. And cute Dr Ben was there!”

Will covered his mouth to hide another chuckle. He’d known the girl long enough to know she was a rather shit liar - her excuses for late assignments were unmatched. 

“Right.” He cleared his throat, going to his desk to write her a quick note. “Have you told anyone else? Miss Penshaw?”

“She laughed. Really hard.” Dawn paused, lips quirking up slightly at the sides. “I think she almost peed her pants.”

Will smiled, nodding his head and handing her the note. He’d noticed the two girls hadn’t been sitting together as of late, and hoped the outlet of hitting a bag helped her a bit. 

“Alright, run off to class.” He instructed, tapping his knuckle twice on his desk when she got to the door. She paused, glancing back. “But, remember, if you ever need-.”

“I know where to find you.” Dawn gave him a soft smile. “Thanks, Mr Pratt.”

Then she was gone. Will sighed, sitting back down at his desk. 

“William?” The voice of the vice principal made him look up. 

“‘Lo, Robin. What can I do ya for?” He greeted the boss he didn’t hate with a smile. 

“Was that Dawn Summers?” Robin asked, and Will nodded. 

“Seems as though she got into a bit of a tussle with a punching bag.” Will explained, and Robin laughed lightly, nodding his head. 

“You think she was honest?” He checked, and Will nodded his head. 

“Got into my fair share of fights before, that’s not a bruise from a knuckle.” Will offered, and Robin nodded his head, brow furrowing. “Robin?”

“Snyder told you about her mom?” He checked, and Will’s lips pressed together in a tight line as he nodded. “We got a call from her godfather earlier today. She’s going for surgery two weeks after spring break.”

“What kind of cancer?” Will asked, thinking back to his own mum’s battle with her lungs. 

“Brain.” Robin said solemnly, and Will sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Fuck.” He whispered. Robin nodded. 

“Yup.” Robin agreed. “I’m making sure all her teachers know. Just, try to keep an eye on her?”

“Of course.” Will nodded, wishing he would have had someone to keep an eye on him when he’d been going through it, and he’d been older than her.

He’d found Drusilla right after, but that had probably been for the worst. “That all?”

“Yeah.” Robin stepped towards the door, before turning back. “She likes you, I think. Three other teachers mentioned her eye to me, and you’re the only one who figured out what happened. If she comes to you-?”

“I’ll be there.” Will assured him, feeling a knot in his chest. 

Chapter Text

Buffy shifted, trying to remain calm, ignoring the pinch in her shoulders. Spike’s sheets were soft below her bare skin, but she barely noticed, tugging at the silk necktie he’d used to tie her to his headboard. 

Two cool fingers running up the inside of her left thigh made her jump, the second strap of silk wrapped around her eyes. 

“Spike?” She asked, voice breathless and needy. He hummed, fingers avoiding where she wanted them most, instead trailing over her hip and up to her navel. 

She wasn’t certain how she felt about this yet. When Spike had initially introduced the idea, she’d nearly laughed at the thought, thinking he was joking. He’d spent the rest of that night using his mouth to convince her, first between her thighs, and then whispering dirty things into her ear. 

That had been four days ago, and now, she was bound and blindfolded in his bed, completely naked, on display, and painfully turned on. Buffy had no idea how long it had been, if it had been minutes or longer than an hour, but he still hadn’t touched her. 

When his hand left her skin, she trembled, chest heaving. She wondered absently what she looked like, but didn’t dwell. She couldn’t, not when all she could think of was how badly she needed him to touch her. 

Wiggling again, Buffy tried to listen for any clue as to what he was doing or where he might be, but he was deadly silent. And, fuck, if the thought of being at his complete mercy didn’t have her pressing her thighs together, trying to relieve any pressure. 

“Don’t make me tie your ankles to the posts.” Spike’s smooth voice came from her left. Buffy turned her head in the general direction. 

“You wouldn’t have to if you’d come and touch me.” She tried to entice him, letting her left knee fall in his general direction. 

“Thought I was in charge tonight?” He asked, closer now. Buffy pushed her chest out a bit. 

“When are you ever in charge?” She teased, even though it was true. Even like this, she knew all she needed to do was say the word, and he’d let her go, and the thought made her stomach flutter in a way she opted to ignore. 

Spike didn’t respond, but the bedside drawer opened, and Buffy felt her brow furrow slightly below the silk - seriously, how much silk did this guy own? - in confusion. Why would he be going in the drawer she knew he kept his condoms in, when they had been going bare for the past month? 

“Spread.” Spike instructed, and she felt the mattress dip slightly, his hand curling around her knee and tugging. Buffy let her legs spread, feeling the flush spread across her chest as she exposed herself to him. “So pretty.”

Buffy felt herself clench and unclench around nothing, biting her lip to stop herself from begging him. 

She barely noticed the soft click, until something cool and wet was pouring between her legs. 

“Oh!” Buffy gasped, legs trying to close, but Spike gripped her knee tighter, and Buffy forced her other leg back towards the mattress. 

“Relax, kitten. Let Spike take care of you, hm?” His voice was soft, waiting for Buffy to nod her head and relax before he lessened his grip on her knee. Whatever he had poured over her cunt was dripping down, mixing with her arousal and slipping between her ass cheeks. Buffy fidgeted slightly, twisting her arms enough that she could grip the silk that was binding her. 

A yelp fell from her throat when three fingers pushed into her without warning, giving her no time to adjust, before starting to fuck her in earnest. Her back bowed off the bed, the wet noises coming from between her legs, obscene in a way she’d never heard. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, oh fuck.” Buffy gasped, coming hard, thrashing in her restraints, a hand pinning her hip to the bed as Spike’s hand kept fucking her through it, not letting up until it had wrung a second orgasm out of her and she couldn’t feel her feet. 

Spike’s low chuckle fed into a warmth in her stomach, a noise that would usually annoy her. She whined slightly when he pulled his fingers out of her, the empty feeling almost too much. 

“Good?” Spike checked, and Buffy nodded, gasping when something touched her lips, Spike’s wet fingers smearing her face with her own arousal and release. She let her lips part, moaning when he pushed his fingers into her mouth, licking around his fingers and sucking her own taste off of them, mixed with an almost chemical sweetness, whatever he’d poured onto her. “Fuck.”

Spike pulled his hand away from her, laughing when she tried to lean towards him, his hand slipping from her mouth when she whined. 

“Words, kitten.” He encouraged, and Buffy tried to force her mind to think. His hand released her knee, and the bed shifted again.

“Please,” she finally gasped, feeling cold now that his hands had left her. 

“Please what?” He asked, and Buffy spread her thighs, unable to find the words. A hand came down between her legs, the sharp sting making every nerve in her body come alight as she let out a scream. “Please what?”

“Need you,” she panted, whining high in her throat, shuddering as his hand ghosted over her chest, barely actually touching her, his breath dancing across her throat. Buffy tried to arch her back and neck, wanting to get his hand on her chest and his lips on her skin. 

“You have me, kitten.” Spike told her with a gentle peck to her chin, pulling back before Buffy could even react. His hands found her hips, helping to roll her over, Spike adjusting her wrists to lessen the strain on her shoulders as he got her up on her knees.

Buffy spread her knees more, arching her bed, head dropping forward to rest against the pillows. She was certain she’d never been so turned on in her life, and he’d barely touched her but for the two orgasms he’d rung out of her in quick succession. Even when she had first walked into his apartment, he’d given her only the most chaste of kisses before instructing her to strip and lie down on his bed, to which she had complied. He’d still been fully dressed by the time he’d tied the last knot. 

“Desperate little thing, aren’t you?” Spike laughed warmly behind her, hands sliding over her ass, thumbs pressing into her lower back slightly as he gripped her hips, forcing her down a bit more, her legs spreading even further. 

If she’d been in his position, Buffy wasn’t certain she’d have as much restraint as he did. The thought of Spike, however, tied up and at her mercy made her moan, imagining what she could do with him. 

The click of a bottle sounded again in the room, and Buffy braced herself for the cool liquid between her legs again, only for Spike’s hands to instead run up the sides of her spine, coated in oil. He dug the heels of his hands into the muscles between her shoulders, forcing her to relax into the bed. 

“Spike-.” She turned her head, confused. 

“Shh.” Spike told her, leaning in to press a kiss to the back of her neck, his bare chest briefly pressing against her back before he was gone again. His hands continued on to her shoulders, thumbs working away the tension with firm circles that had her knees trembling. “Just relax.”

“But I-.” Buffy started, gasping and arching when he was suddenly filling her, words catching in her throat. 

“Relax.” Spike repeated, not moving in her, as he continued on with the massage. 

Buffy tried, taking slow breaths and doing her best not to fuck back against him, muscle trembling with the effort. Spike hummed appreciatively, hands sliding back down her back, thumbs working in the vertebrae of her spine a few times before his palms were working on her lower back and hips. He shifted her slightly, giving her the faintest tease of relief as it jostled his cock slightly inside of her. 

She moaned, clenching down on him, his right hand leaving her skin to give her ass a quick slap, the sensation making her jump. The skin where he’d hit continued to sting as he returned to his massage. 

“None of that.” Spike told her as he moved his attention to her arms, apparently intent on turning her into a pile of goo. “Or I’ll stop altogether.”

“No, no! I-I’m sorry.” Buffy gasped out. If he stopped touching her, she might actually combust. 

“Better.” Spike hummed, leaning forwards to kiss her shoulders, shifting the angle his cock was pressing into her. Buffy bit back a whimper, scrunching her face up, doing her best to hold still. 

Spike slid his hands around to her chest, large palms pressed roughly against her sensitive breasts, kneading almost unkindly. Buffy bit her lip so hard she could nearly taste blood, Spike’s mouth biting, sucking, kissing anywhere he could reach.

His fingers twisted her nipples near painfully, and the moan she’d been trying to bite back fell from her lips as she clenched down around him, pushing back against him. And then he was gone, leaving her gasping and empty, a cry leaving her. 

“Sp-.” She started, wobbling on her knees as he climbed off the bed. He tapped her hip.

“Roll over.” Spike instructed, not helping this time. Buffy panted, limbs feeling weird as she tried to get onto her back once more. Never in her life had she thought this would be something that did it for her. 

Once she was settled on her back, she tried to calm her breathing, able to hear Spike moving around the room, the bed dipping slightly near her head. She couldn’t tell what he was doing, but he was leaning over her face, she thought? 

“Open.” Spike gave her another instruction, fingers tracing down her jaw. She parted her lips, half prepared for him to gag her, gasping when she tasted his skin as his cock pushed into her mouth. She tried to pull back, but his hand cupped her jaw as he clicked his tongue. “You want to get fucked?”

Buffy froze as his words settled into her mind. He’d told her at the beginning of the night that he knew exactly what she needed, but that if she fought him she’d get punished. She’d thought he meant spanking. His weight shifted back, cock slipping from her lips. 

“Colour?” He asked, voice rough. Buffy swallowed heavily. He was giving her an out, and end to his game. 

“Green.” She whispered, parting her lips once more, tilting her head slightly. 

Spike was gentle as he pushed into her mouth, one of his hands gripping her hair to angle her face up enough that he met less resistance. He stopped when he hit the back of her throat, Buffy gagging and trying to stay still. 

“You’re doing so well.” Spike spoke softly, pulling back before pushing into her mouth again, working up a slow and gentle pace, never pushing too far, but giving her a bit more with each thrust. “Fuck, wish you could see yourself kitten. Look so gorgeous like this.”

His voice was coming out breathy, and Buffy half wanted to tell him he could cut the crap, he already had her mouth on him. 

Riley had told her he couldn’t watch while she blew him, too much spit and that she lacked technique or the ability to make it look ‘sexy’. She wasn’t totally certain how one could make it look sexy, but had taken his criticisms to heart, only using her mouth on him in the dark or beneath the covers. 

Buffy made a noise of disagreement, and Spike paused his movements, cock pushing just against the back of her throat in a way that forced her to work the muscles there to stop herself from gagging. The blindfold disappeared, and Buffy blinked at the sudden light that filtered in - not too much, but more than she’d been ready for her. 

“Don’t believe me?” Spike panted down at her, and Buffy let her eyes focus on him, and whoa. 

She could see every ridge of his abs, the way the shadows caught on his sharp cheekbones, the flex of the muscles in his arm as he gripped her hair. He looked powerful and confident and insanely hot, the pulse between her legs nearly distracting her from the cock in her mouth. She whimpered, wiggling her toes. 

Spike pulled out of her mouth, hard cock bobbing up against his stomach, wet from her mouth, glistening in the low lighting. Buffy gasped, throat burning just the faintest bit as he climbed off of her, walking across his room, and her eyes couldn’t help but follow him. 

Had he always been this hot? He was all lean muscle and pale skin, angles nearly glowing in the room. She wanted to lick him everywhere, pin him down and ride him until his eyes were rolling back in his head, bite his jaw until his pale skin turned red and purple. 

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t see he had a camera in his hand until the flash was blinding her. 

“Spike!” She gasped, automatically trying to pull her arms down to cover herself. They didn’t move, but Spike pulled the Polaroid out, shaking it in the air for a moment, before tossing it to the side of the bed, climbing back above her face. “Spike, no.”

“No?” Spike questioned, tilting his head to the side, eyes nearly disappearing in the shadows. 

“I don’t want to-.” Buffy shook her head, shutting her eyes, wishing he’d left the blindfold on. Her eyes burned, suddenly ashamed, now that she could see, the sweat on her skin cooling. “It’s not funny.”

“Not laughing, kitten.” Spike whispered, and she felt his cock bump against her lips. She opened her eyes to find him watching her face, one hand holding his cock to her mouth, the other letting the camera hang loosely at his side. “C’mon, let me?”

Buffy hesitated, but the softness in his eyes got her, and she parted her lips for him, practically preening at the way he smiled down at her. It was probably too fond for whatever they had going on, but she didn’t care, letting him slowly fuck her mouth again. She let her eyes flutter back shut, trying to relax back into it, clutching tightly to the tie around her wrists. The flash made her shoulders go tense, but then Spike was pushing a bit harder, cock going down her throat, before he was pulling out completely. 

Buffy blinked up, finding Spike still above her, up on her knees, one hand on the headboard, the other wrapped tightly around his cock. He was breathing heavily, face forward and pinched in concentration. 

“Spike?” She rasped out. Spike twitched a bit, and she watched his cock do the same in his hand. 

“Sorry, kitten.” He breathed out after a long few moments. “Almost got carried away, and I have my heart set on coming in that pretty little pussy of yours.”

Spike climbed off the bed, and Buffy couldn’t help but smile softly; she’d been afraid she’d done something wrong. 

“Yeah?” Buffy breathed out, smiling at him as he picked up one of the two bottles discarded on the bed. She craned her neck a bit, the massage oil still by her hip as he poured lube onto his fingers, climbing back between her legs. 

“Ever had your ass fingered?” He asked, hand slipping down between her cheeks. Buffy gasped, back going straight. 

“I-.” She shook her head, jerking away from his touch. “Have you?”

Spike laughed, tracing the tight muscle. “Kitten, I’ve had my ass fucked.”

“Good for you, but - hey!” She kicked him. “Not happening!”

“Spoil sport.” Spike sighed, pushing the already lubed fingers into her cunt. “So vanilla.”

“Just shut up and fuck me.” Buffy huffed, rolling her eyes and ignoring his gentle teasing. 

“Bossy.” Spike grinned, pulling his fingers out of her, wiping them off on his cock before grabbing her legs, pushing them up towards her chest, her calves resting on his shoulders in a way that pulled her muscles tight. He pushed in quickly, nipping at her earlobe. “I like it.”

Chapter Text

Buffy paced outside Ethan’s office, trying to work up the nerve to go inside. She paused outside the door for what felt like the millionth time, shaking her head and walking away. He’d been her boss for nearly a decade and she was going to just quit? How was she supposed to do that?

She took a deep breath, striding with purpose back to the door to knock, only to find it already open with Ethan leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Something on your mind?”

“I, uh. Yeah. I needed to, um. Talk.” Buffy managed. Ethan raised his eyebrow in a way that reminded Buffy of his nephew, but it was much less sexy when Ethan did it. “To you. Talk to you. I need to.”

Ethan huffed out a dry laugh, stepping back into his office, letting Buffy follow behind, shutting the door behind herself, going to sit on one of the two shitty plastic chairs that faced his desk. “So? Talk.”

“Right.” Buffy nodded, flushing. God, how had she ever gotten anything done in her life? “My other job, um, I told you about that, right? At the gym?”

Ethan nodded, looking almost bored. 

“Yeah, yup. So, well, I’ve been there a few months and it’s really good there, and-.”

“Oh, do get on with it.” Ethan cut her off. “Are you demanding a raise, or handing in your resignation?”

Buffy blanked, mouth still open, the speech she had prepared disappearing from her mind. “Um. The second one.”

“Great.” Ethan pulled open a drawer, pausing to look up at her. “With notice, or effective immediately?”

“I have my shift tonight-.” She started, and Ethan shook his head. 

“You can finish it out tonight, then what?” He pressed, rushing her a bit. Buffy swallowed the lump in her throat. 

“Just tonight.” She managed to squeak out. Ethan nodded, flipping quickly through some papers before pulling out a small stack. 

“Fill these out.” He slid them across the desk. Buffy grabbed a pen and quickly signed and initialed where needed, filling out any other basic info, before sliding it back towards him. Ethan gave them a quick look over, nodding his head. “Wonderful. It was wonderfully employing you, if you ever need a reference, I’d be happy to give my good word.”

Buffy nodded as Ethan grabbed a few other forms. He looked up at her. 

“Is that all?” He clarified, and Buffy jumped up, nodding her head. 

“Yeah. Um. Thanks.” She offered at the door. Ethan waved her off, and she headed out to the bar. 

Task done, Buffy felt just a touch lighter. 

Faith had cornered her earlier that day, all but forcing a promotion onto her, making her the assistant manage, with hints that a new location might be opening up in Sunnydale with a need for a manager. Buffy had accepted awkwardly, half feeling like it wasn’t real, only realizing what it meant when she saw her new wage. 

Dawn had three days of school left until spring break, and she was Buffy’s next task - convince her sister to spend more than eight consecutive minutes around their mom. Since the night at the gym, she’d been better with Buffy, but had been hiding out at Janice’s house more nights than not. Joyce wanted Buffy to leave it, but it was frustrating her to no end. 

Their mom was sick, and Dawn was acting like nothing was wrong. It made Buffy want to drag her back to the gym, and gear her up to fight in the ring, but she knew that was wrong. Faith had laughed at the idea and encouraged it, which had only proved to Buffy how bad of an idea it was. Faith was great, but she wasn’t so great with empathy. 

The shift at the bar seemed to drag on and fly by in no time at all. It was a Tuesday, so it wasn’t as busy as a weekend, but not nearly as dead as a Monday. 

“Hey,” Spike caught her near the end of her shift, pulling her close. Buffy pushed him off, looking around for any familiar faces or watching eyes. 

“Spike, what are you doing?” She snapped, shoving him back harder when he tried again to pull her against his body. 

“Come over tonight,” he breathed, leaning in to drag his mouth along her throat. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and she shoved him back a bit rougher. He stumbled a bit, smiling lazily at her. Buffy grabbed his hand, dragging him away from the crowd and to the back room. 

“Stop it!” Buffy hissed when he tried to plaster his body against her, hard against her ass, despite the way she wanted to grind back into him. She managed to pull from his grasp once the door was shut, turning to face him to ask what the hell he was doing, but she barely had time to open her mouth before he was on her. 

Her back hit the door hard, his tongue already in her mouth, his hands pulling her hips roughly against his own. Buffy moaned, body coming alight as she found herself kissing him back without meaning to. 

“Spike, Spike-.” She tried to break the kiss, but he didn’t let her, using one hand to hold her jaw, kissing her more firmly. It made her knees wobble. “-Spike, stop. I have to get back to work.”

“Let me work on you.” He chuckled into the kiss, hand slipping down the front of her pants. Buffy shoved him back, trying to right her mind. 

“Spike.” She repeated his name firmly. Spike dropped to his knees in front of her, nuzzling his face into the skin of her lower stomach, making it swoop. 

“Come over tonight.” He asked again, mouth wet against her skin. Buffy almost caved. 

“I can’t.” She closed her eyes, letting her head drop back against the door she was leaning against. She had to go back to the house to make sure Dawn hadn’t snuck out yet again. 

“Please-.”

“Tomorrow.” Buffy assured him, enjoying the feel of his mouth against her skin for another second, before pushing him back. Spike fell back to the floor, looking up at her through hooded eyes. His liner was smudged, nipples hard through the white tank top he wore, making her resolve waver. His hand fell to the front of his jeans. “Just - I have something to do tonight.”

“Tomorrow?” Spike repeated her word, palming himself and she wanted to climb onto his lap and dry hump him until he came in his pants. Her cunt pulsed at the idea. 

“Tomorrow.” She breathed out, unable to move just yet. 

Will scrubbed at his dishes, trying to shake the feeling, even as the warmth bloomed in his chest with it. He knew better, but couldn’t help the hope blooming within him. 

Glancing at the clock, Will sighed to himself. He doubted she would be over any time soon, and he needed to do something to distract himself. If he was left to his own devices, he would probably end up writing poetry or something equally embarrassing. He was fine teaching it and reciting it, but he was well aware that his own writing was pathetic until it went through the process of writing and scrapping and writing and scrapping and trying to put it through a filter so he sounded less like a complete sap. Then he’d put it to music and it wouldn’t end up completely terrible. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He groaned, dropping the sudsy bowl to the sink, shaking off his hands as his brain reached for different ways to describe the green of her eyes. 

Honestly, Will wasn’t certain if he should be impressed or disappointed in how long he had taken to realize. Because, once he realized, it was all consuming, like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t laugh, couldn’t exist without thinking about it. 

He loved her. 

He, William Pratt, loved Buffy, whose last name he still didn’t know. But, that didn’t matter because she wasn’t her last name, or her shitty bar job, or whatever problems in her life she was trying so hard to ignore. 

No, Buffy was sunlight. She was life and warmth and happiness, all tied together in a tiny blonde package with bright green eyes and a loud laugh. She was the first rays in the sky after a storm, a calm water after the waves, a breath of fresh air after a big night out in the seedy underground of London.

Will slammed his hands against his head. He had to bloody stop with these thoughts. Buffy would laugh in his face if she heard him talking like this. 

While, he knew she didn’t love Spike - Spike was impulsive and irrational, rude and brutish - he knew that she at least liked that nonce enough to give him the time of day. To let him take her to bed time and time again, to fall asleep in his arms and trust him enough to be at her most vulnerable with him. 

If it weren’t for Spike, Will knew he would have never found himself in her life, so for that, he was grateful. And, for Spike to exist…

Will pinched the bridge of his nose. As per usual, all things pointed back to his ex-girlfriend, Drusilla. What he’d thought he had with her was barely a candle to the roaring flame he felt towards Buffy. So, of course, it was her fault he’d come to the realization   

Dru had called him on Sunday, and because Will didn’t want to spend the money for a phone with caller ID, he’d answered. Her sweet, melodic voice had greeted him, informing him that she’d found herself stateside and that she missed him. 

Missed dragging him around by the prick, more like. 

Will had slammed the phone down before she even had the chance to finish her sentence. She’d called again, but he let it go to the machine, his mind already a million miles away. 

Once upon a time, a call from Dru would have sent him to tears, pleading and begging her to come back to him, promising to do or be whatever she wanted. A whipping boy, a bit of muscle, whatever she wanted so he could exist in her atmosphere.

With Dru, Will was the worst version of himself. With Dru, he had little regard for himself and those around him, wanting nothing more than to keep his girl happy, however that may be. With Dru, he’d tried drugs he couldn’t name, let his body be used, or used someone else’s. Let her fuck boys in girls in front of him, let himself be convinced to beat a man to a bloody pulp for looking at her the wrong way. 

And the sound of her voice gave him a visceral reaction, his one and only thought that he needed to find Buffy. If he had Buffy, he would be fine. 

It had taken him at least an hour to piece together why Buffy would make things better, and once he had, he’d gotten himself piss drunk and passed out on his bathroom floor. He had barely made it to work on time the next morning, grateful that his students were too excited for their last week of classes before the break to notice how bloody hungover he was. 

Now, nearly two days after his revelation, one day after getting buzzed at the Bronze and trying to drag her home with him, she was nearly there. Will knew better than to tell her - thank god she hadn’t come home with him the night before - but that didn’t matter to him. She didn’t need to know, not so long as he was able to touch her, to taste her, to bask in her warmth. 

Grabbing his smokes and a pack of gum - Buffy didn’t like to kiss him when he tasted like smoke. God, who had he been kidding? - Will headed out to sit on the plastic chair outside his front door and wait for her. 

Chapter Text

Buffy walked slowly, dragging her feet. Her stomach was in knots after the last few hours that she had spent with Dawn once school had let out for the day. 

She hadn’t been home when Buffy had arrived at the house the night before, so Buffy had been waiting in the dining room when she’d gotten home. Their mom was off at another doctors appointment, with Jenny this time, leaving the sisters alone in the house. 

Spike’s home came into view, and Buffy nearly turned and walked away, but he was smoking on the front step. His grin was predatory when he caught sight of her, standing and tossing the butt to the ground for him to crush under his boot. 

By the time she got up to him, he was already chewing a stick of minty gum, leaning in to kiss her. Buffy stopped him with a hand against his chest, leaning away. 

“Tease.” He huffed out a laugh, before leading her inside. Buffy followed behind him, looking around the barren apartment, little form of life in it. No pictures, no decor, no anything. Like he didn’t exist before or when she wasn’t around. 

Buffy strode up to him in time for him to turn around, grasping his face and pulling him down for a kiss. Spike moaned, catching her waist and pulling her close, already half hard in his pants. She slid her hand down to cup him over the front, letting him press against her. 

“Fuck.” She breathed into the kiss, the world finally quieting in her mind as she let herself fall into the familiar rhythm. Spike pulled back, and she whined, opening her eyes to look up at him, and her brow furrowed at the soft, very non-Spike look he was giving her. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head, slipping one of his hands into her hair to pull her back to his mouth. Buffy hummed, pushing up on her toes and letting her arms wrap around his shoulders and opening her mouth for his tongue. He growled lightly in the back of her throat when she rocked against him, his hard cock poking her in the lower stomach. 

Spike started walking backwards, leading her down the now familiar halls of his home, until the back of his foot caught on something. He made a startled noise, before he was taking her down with him, his body cushioning the impact for her as they hit the ground. He groaned, and Buffy couldn’t help the giggles that erupted at the obscenity of it. 

A sudden hit of heartache washed over her, and her laughter died down, so she adjusted so she was straddling his hips, leaning in to kiss him again. 

“Buffy.” Spike sighed into the kiss. “Buffy, my beds right-.”

“No.” Buffy bit down hard on his lower lip, enjoying the whimper he let out as his hips jerked up against her. If they moved to his bed, hell, if they moved to the couch, she may never leave. “Want you to fuck me right here.”

“Wh-?” Spike started, but she pulled back, dragging her shirt up and over her head before reaching behind herself to unclasp her bra and letting it fall down her arms before tossing it to the side. He tended to argue less when her breasts were out. 

Proving her theory correct, Spike sat up quickly, kissing her chest, moaning when she used her hands to push her tits together for him to bury his face in. Buffy squeaked when he bit down hard, sucking the underside of her left breast, her hands releasing herself to grab his shoulders to ground herself. Spike chuckled, hands gripping her ass to guide her into a slow grind against him as he continued to mark her entire chest with his mouth. She wanted to cry. 

“C’mon,” Buffy urged, needing him hard and fast and as soon as possible. Spike hummed against her skin, teeth scraping against her nipple. 

“Dunno,” he pulled his lips from her chest. “Having fun doing it my way.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, a difficult man.

“C’mon, Spike.” She urged, ignoring the rhythm he was guiding her in, moving a bit harder, a bit faster, nearly bouncing in his lap. Spike swore, eyes on her breasts as they swayed. “Wanna fuck you like this.”

“Like this?” Spike paused her hips, grip tight. “Wanna fuck me, right here? Ride me ‘til your knees give out?”

“Please,” Buffy panted, half wanting him to take over so she could float away one last time with him, but then he was urging her off his lap so he could strip, and she made quick work of her shoes and the rest of her clothes before she was pinning him back to the carpet. 

“Fuck, kitten.” He groaned out through clenched teeth as Buffy ground against his abs, his hard cock brushing against her ass. She hadn’t been on top since the time they’d been trying to plan out what they were going to tell Riley; it felt like a lifetime ago. “Fuck, baby. Let me fuck you, yeah? Fuck, I’m so hard, kitten, please.” 

“Yeah?” Buffy breathed, planting her hands on his chest to support herself a bit more, lifting her hips enough that she could slide back over him. Spike nearly sobbed, his cock slipping between her wet folds but not into her. Buffy rocked against him, enjoying the way his cock was right against her clit for her to grind down on. She gasped, able to feel every ridge and vein as she moved against him, digging her nails into his skin when he nudged her entrance. 

“Christ.” Spike moaned, rutting up into her with every roll of her hips against his. 

“Touch me.” Buffy gasped out, his hands jumping into action quickly, palming her tits, pinching her nipples, rough and gentle all at once. She nearly sobbed, so close, so close. She rocked her hips faster, trying to find the right angle, when she suddenly found herself on her back. Spike was practically growling, fucking into her in a hard, sharp thrust that nearly made her come. 

“Bloody hell, woman.” He ground out, pace hard and fast, the carpet a pleasant sting against her shoulders as she held on tight. “Could fuckin’ drown in you, fuck.”

“Uh huh.” Buffy nodded, entire body tingling as he fucked her within an inch of her life. One of her hands reached out to the side, needing to ground herself against something solid, grabbing onto the leg of a table that sat near the entryway. Something fell to the ground loudly, but she barely heard it, trying to meet Spike thrust for thrust, needing it all. 

“You close, kitten?” Spike asked, biting at her ear. Buffy nodded, unable to speak, nearly screaming when his thumb found her clit. She was about to come when he pulled out, leaving her empty until he was flipping her over. 

Buffy pressed back, dropping her head to her forearms as he slipped back inside of her, pulling her hips back to meet his own as he groaned in pleasure. She bit down on her forearm as he resumed his near brutal pace, dragging her body against the rough carpet, running his mouth. 

“Wish you could see yourself, see how well you take me,” he panted, and she felt him press down against the top of his cock where they were joined, just a hair below her asshole; she clenched it blindly, and Spike laughed, the cruel sound making her tighten around him. “Gonna let me fuck you ass one day?”

“No.” Buffy bit out, moaning when his hand caught her hair, pulling her head up from her arms. Spike leaned forwards, the hard planes of his chest sticking to her back with sweat as he slid his thumb up a bit higher, just against the right ring of muscles. 

“No?” He mocked, and she could feel the arousal dripping down her thighs as he pressed his thumb firmer against her, just barely breaching the muscles when she came, screaming, shuddering against him. Spike bit down on her throat, slowing the movement of his hips slightly until she was slumping forward, vision fuzzy and spotty as he released her. 

She moaned softly when he slipped out of her, confused until she heard his breathing pick up, the sound of slick movement against skin, gasping when he came across her skin, painting her thighs and cunt and ass with his release. Her legs slid apart until Buffy was flat on the floor, Spike massaging his come into her skin. She shifted away halfheartedly, too blissed out to really care. 

After they managed to get up off the floor twenty minutes later, Spike dragged her to the bathroom, sitting her on the counter and eating her out while the water heated up. He washed her with slow and methodical movements, somehow the simple act turning her on until she could barely hold herself up. He made her come twice more before the water got cold. 

Buffy sat, wrapped in a towel, watching as he poured two bowls of milk and cereal, his own towel wrapped around his waist. She wanted to freeze time and live in this moment forever. 

“Your feast, m’lady.” Spike smiled, handing her the bowl of chocolatey cereal before sitting down beside her to dig into his own bowl. Buffy watched him for a moment, before slowly eating her food, though it was the last thing her stomach wanted. 

When he went to deal with the dishes, Buffy tried her best to remain silent as she got dressed again.

“Buffy?” Spike’s voice startled her as she slid her feet into her shoes. She spun to face him. “You can just sleep-.”

“We can’t keep doing this.” Buffy cut him off in a rush. 

“-here.” Spike finished, then blinked at her. “What? We - what?”

“We-.” Buffy paused, shaking her head before taking a slow breath. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“This? This?” Spike looked lost. “The bloody hell do you mean you can’t keep doing this?”

“I just - I told you when we started that I had a lot going on.” Buffy tried to keep her voice soft. “And it’s just - it’s too much now, and I have to focus on my family and-.”

“Let me help you!” Spike raised his voice, coming in closer, trying to grab her hands. Buffy pulled back, wrapping her arms around her middle and shaking her head. 

“You agreed to sex. I can’t.” Buffy stopped. “It’s done, okay? It was fun while it lasted, right?”

“We can change the agreement, yeah?” Spike grabbed her by her elbows, ducking to try and fall into her line of sight. Once again, Buffy pulled away from him. 

“God, Spike, just take the out!” She snapped. “I can’t do this anymore, alright? I have so much shit going on that you don’t-.”

“So tell me!” Spike shouted, spinning her around. “Give me a choice here, at least!”

“No!” Buffy shoved him back. “This is done. We are done. It's as simple as that. The end.”

Buffy stepped around him, looking around on the floor for her bag. She had to get out of there. 

“Buffy…” his voice was soft, soft enough to make her hesitate. “Buffy, I love you.”

She felt the ice run through her veins. 

Buffy, I love you and then leading her on for the end of her teen years. 

Buffy, I love you and then breaking up with her to go explore the next best thing, deciding to marry the first girl around the bend. 

“No, you don’t.” Buffy told him, shaking her head. 

“Buffy, please-.” Spike caught her wrist and she shook him off like he’d burned her, before turning to look at him. 

“You don’t even know me!” She raised her voice. “God, you think this is love? We’ve had some good sex, but you don’t know the first thing about me!”

“I don’t need to-.” His brow furrowed, and Buffy couldn’t help the crazed laugh. 

“You don’t need to? God, Spike, you don’t even know my last name - hell, I don’t even know your first name!” She pointed out. 

“It’s-.”

“I don’t care!” Buffy’s voice was going shrill. “Don’t you get it? This was just sex, and that’s all it was ever going to be!”

“That’s a lie.” Spike snarled out, clearly getting frustrated. “And you bloody well know it. I l-.”

“Stop!” Buffy covered her ears. “Stop saying that! No you don’t!”

“Think I don’t know my own heart, that it?” Spike continued on, anger seeping into his every word. 

Good, Buffy thought. Anger was good. If he was angry, he would let her go. 

“What, it was just lust? Just a quick way to get off then nip out before the sun comes up?” Spike kept going, stepping closer and closer to her until her back hit the wall, bringing them to the same position from her first night in his home. 

“Yes.” Buffy lied. 

Spike kissed her then, slamming his lips against her own. Buffy tried to push him off, but he kept trying to kiss her until she turned away. 

“Spike, stop it!” She could feel tears filling her eyes as she shoved at his chest. 

“Come on, kitten,” his voice was so soft as he nosed at her jaw. “Let me love you.”

“No!” Buffy nearly screamed, finally managing to shove him off, knowing she had to pull out the big guns to get him to back off. “You don’t love me! Stop saying that!”

“It’s true! God, just-.”

“You think you know love?” Buffy shoved at his chest, watching as he wide eyed watched her in confusion. “How could you? You’re just a failed musician getting by on the kindness of your uncle.”

“Being mean ain’t gonna make me stop loving you.” Spike insisted. 

“I’ve been using you!” She pointed out. “It was only ever sex for me!”

“Then keep using me until you can accept that-.”

“You don’t love me!” Buffy shook her head. “You don’t love me, and I would never love you.”

“Buffy, what we have-.”

“What we had,” Buffy cut him off, voice icy. “Was just sex. You were a convenient fuck, and it got boring. So now it’s done.”

“You don’t mean that.” Spike shook his head, voice dropping to a whisper. She could see his heart breaking. 

“You’re nothing to me. You are so far beneath me, it took me being at my lowest to even consider you.” Buffy bit out, feeling the bile rising up in her throat at the lies. 

Spike’s face hardened at her words, jaw setting. Buffy immediately regretted them. 

“Spike-.”

“Get out.” His voice was cold. Buffy froze, and when he looked at her again, it was pure rage. “Get the hell out of my flat.”

“I meant-.” She shook her head, not wanting him to hate her. Not like this. 

Spine pushed past her, going to his door and swinging it open. “Get the fuck out of my home.”

Buffy nodded, finally spotting her purse and bending to grab it before slipping past him. He slammed it shut behind her, making her flinch. She made it half a block on wobbling legs before she emptied the contents of her stomach into some bushes. 

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Buffy asked once again, and Willow laughed. 

“If I minded, I wouldn’t be packing your stuff for you.” The redhead pointed out, rolling out a long strip of tape to shut the box she had just finished up with. Buffy nodded, the guilt still sitting heavy in her chest. Willow sighed, abandoning the box to move to the floor where Buffy was folding the clothes that had fallen to the floor of her closet, readying to pack them up, too. “Buffy, I’m really not upset. Your family needs you. I’m honestly surprised it took you this long.”

“You think I should have gone back sooner? I wanted to, but-.”

“Buffy!” Willow grabbed her hand. “Your mom wouldn’t have let you come back sooner, but with everything going on with Dawnie…”

“Yeah.” Buffy nodded her head, throat tight. 

The night she’d headed to Revello drive after her final shift at the Bronze, she’d gotten there just in time to find Dawn sneaking back in through her window. The resulted screaming match had been of epic proportions, ending with her younger sister breaking down and sobbing in Buffy’s arms that she couldn’t be around their mom because if she spent too much time with her, it made the cancer too real. Joyce had been out in the hall once Buffy finally got the younger girl to sleep, and had finally agreed that it was best if Buffy came back home, even if only for a few months. 

So, now Buffy and her friends were packing up her room, which would be used as a guest room for Willow and Tara, the latter ending her lease in a mere few weeks. Buffy just wished her friends moving in together was a more joyous occasion for her. 

It was Saturday, and Dawn had just started her spring break. She was still tiptoeing around Joyce, who was doing her best to seem normal despite the very not normal situation. And all Buffy could think about was wanting to go back to Spike’s place, to the safe cocoon that he created that hid her from reality. 

Buffy shook the thought away. She'd ended things with him for a reason. She had to focus on her mom and sister, stop trying to split her attention and hiding from her problems. It had been wonderful, but she’d spent too much time in her little make believe world, and had given Spike too much hope in the end, when she had none to give. 

Willow tried to start up the conversation a few more times, but with Xander floating in and out of their apartment as he took Buffy’s boxes down to his truck, bringing Tara’s up in their place, it fell flat. Tara was at work, but would be coming over in the evening to help Willow unpack everything. 

Once the last box was in the back of his truck, Xander drove Buffy to her moms house, where Joyce was sitting on the front steps. He swallowed heavily, and Buffy knew what he was seeing - how gaunt her mother looked, skin pale and cheeks hollow. 

Joyce smiled when Xander pulled into the drive behind her jeep, standing to greet them both with hugs. 

“Where’s the Dawnster?” Xander asked, looking around, waiting for her to pop out. 

“She spent the night at Janice’s.” Joyce said softly, and Buffy hugged her mom a bit tighter, heart in her throat. 

“We’ll have a girls night tonight, just the three of us.” Buffy assured her. She’d made Dawn promise that she wouldn’t disappear for the entirety of spring break - it was only Saturday now, but Buffy intended to keep her sister under a fairly strict lockdown. Giles and Jenny would pick their mom up on Thursday for her chemo while Buffy had work, as they had been for the last few weeks. She had this treatment, then one the following week, before her surgery. The tumor had shrunk just enough that they felt confident to remove it, but not confident enough to let chemo take any more time. 

The thought of it made Buffy’s head hurt, so instead she helped Xander start bringing the boxes from his truck up to her old bedroom. After spending so long convincing her mom this was for the best, she suddenly wanted to turn and run, go back to the apartment she shared with her best friend and the bar she worked at that barely let her scrape by. 

Will slammed his hands against the bar. 

“Where is she?” He demanded, and Anya squared her shoulders, glaring at him. 

“She quit.” Anya repeated, louder this time. “And you’re cut off.”

“My uncle-!” Will shouted before swaying slightly and falling over. Anya looked down at him with pity in her eyes, and he ignored her, pulling himself back up to his feet. 

“Spike-.” It was Clem, trying to divert his path. Will shook him off. “Will, buddy-.”

“Fuck off.” He hissed, heading to the back, grabbing the door to his uncle's office and shaking it hard, trying to pull the locked door open. He could hear Lorne and Fred, but he ignored them to start beating his fist against the closed door. “Open up! I know you’re bloody well in there!”

“William-.” Fred’s voice was soft as she tried to tug him back from the door. Will ignored her, pretending that the use of his given name didn’t give him pause. His friends always called him Spike or Will, never William. 

The door finally swung open, and Will tried to charge past his uncle, intent on finding the paperwork that would point him to Buffy. Instead, he found himself sprawled out on his back a second later, jaw aching. He looked up at his uncle, who was shaking out his hand, his knuckles a touch pink. 

“Now is not the time for this, boy.” Ethan hissed out. “It is a Saturday night, and if you get into a bar fight, you could lose your job. Go home, sleep it off.”

“But-.”

“But nothing.” Ethan cut him off before turning to his friends. “Get him home safe, will you? My sister would roll over in her grave if I let anything happen to him.”

“Course, sir.” Clem, the kiss ass, nodded, leaning to help Will up. Once he was on his feet, Will shoved him off.

“Don’t need any help.” He muttered, heading out the back door. He was halfway down the alley when Fred caught up to him. 

“Come on, Will. Come back to me and Clem’s place. We’ll let you drink yourself to sleep, and then in the morning-.”

“Fuck off!” Will snapped, not wanting to be coddled. Buffy’s words had hurt in the moment, but he knew she didn’t mean them. Knew she couldn’t mean them; he didn’t know what was going on in her life, but he knew if he could just find her, he could help her. 

He didn’t know how he could help her, but he could blame the copious amounts of liquor he’d consumed for that, but he knew he could. He just needed to see her, to apologize for how he’d reacted the other night. 

Will was halfway home when he realized he was alone, and it made his stomach hurt. He fell against a wall, slamming his fist against it. He needed to get out of his head, needed- no. 

Drugs wouldn’t help. Not really, but Christ, they sounded good. Just a bump of coke, a pill of some kind to take the edge off, to help him clear his mind. Not too much, just enough to help him make a plan. 

The only problem was, he didn’t know any dealers in Sunnydale, and there was a very real fear one of his students might be a dealer. He shuddered at the thought. 

Weak plan in mind, Will looked around, trying to figure out where he was, so he could get home. Once he was home, he knew what he could do. He didn’t have to know anyone in Sunnydale, didn’t need to risk trying to find someone. 

Dru’s voicemail was still sitting in his inbox, and if anyone knew how to score quickly, it was Drusilla. 

Dawn and Joyce were asleep, curled together on the couch. Buffy smiled at them, sliding out from under the blanket and laying it over them. She shut off the TV, grabbing their cups and empty popcorn bowls, bringing them to the kitchen. 

The week had gone okay. Dawn was trying, even if it seemed uncomfortable for her. Joyce was smiling, even though it seemed rather insincere. And Buffy… well, Buffy was juggling work and home, and crying herself to sleep most nights once the house was quiet. Willow and Tara had stopped by the day before with enough baked goods to feed a small army, whispering to Buffy that Xander was sneaking around with Anya, and had been behind their backs for weeks. They smiled and laughed, and Buffy felt the pit in her stomach grow, trying to act taken aback that their close friend could keep something so big from them. 

Leaving the dirty dishes in the sink, Buffy headed upstairs to dress for bed, eyes heavy and head hurting. It was taking everything in her to keep going, but her mom and Dawn were counting on her, so she did it. She put on a brave face and danced around the kitchen singing and laughing with her mom, tried helping Dawn with her homework and sucked at it so bad that Dawn called Giles up instead. 

Face washed and clothes changed, Buffy climbed into her bed, the sheets cool enough to send a chill through her. She shifted around, trying to warm up, the hollow ache in her chest returning; frowning, she pressed her hand to her chest, trying to push hard enough to make it stop hurting. 

A memory of a different hand against her chest, pushing her down to the bed, made her gasp, eyes opening as she sat up. It had felt almost real, she could nearly smell the smoke that seemed to cling to him no matter what. Her fingers trailed up to press against the base of her throat, bruises faded away. 

“Come on.” She groaned, flopping back down. Buffy had ended things with Spike to try and clear up space in her mind, not fill it even more. 

It was just stress, Buffy reasoned to herself. Spike had been a form of stress relief, and now that it had been a full week without sex, her body was missing that relief. It was nothing more than that, and if she wanted an orgasm, there was nothing stopping her from giving herself one. 

Getting up to quickly make sure her door was locked, Buffy headed to her closet, digging out the box she hadn’t touched since she was still with Riley. He had been great in many aspects, or so she liked to convince herself, but sex wasn’t one of them. She would usually wait until he nodded off before sneaking out of bed, too strung up to sleep until she got off. When they first got together, her fingers had done the trick, but after a while, she’d needed more. 

The small vibrator was tucked away nicely, and while it wasn’t what she really wanted, it was the option she had. What she wanted was to be filled, to be-.

Climbing back into her bed, Buffy slipped her shorts and underwear off, closing her eyes and trying to relax. 

Letting her hands cup her chest through the thin fabric of her shirt, she rolled her nipples under her thumbs until they had hardened into stiff peaks. She pinched them, using her nails to get the sparks between her legs. She could do this, she just had to get back into practice. 

She kept her left hand on her tit, massaging it firmly as she right hand slipped between her legs; she wasn’t very wet yet, but she could deal with that. Two fingers rubbing firmly against her clit had a soft sigh falling from her lips, head relaxing into the pillows. She gathered the moisture between her legs, slipping a finger into herself; it wasn’t enough, so she added a second, then a third, trying to curl them correctly. 

Buffy bit her lip, brow furrowed, unable to get the right angle, fingers not long enough. Her palm to gentle against her clit for any real stimulation, and she pulled her hand out, digging around beneath the cover to find the vibrator, glad when it buzzed to life in her hand. 

She brought it up to its highest setting, impatient, shoving it against her clit roughly. 

“Oh.” She gasped, the shocks making her legs twitch out. She shifted it around, mind wandering to a pale, strong hand, stroking and rubbing her expertly. 

Humming, Buffy let herself fall deeper into the fantasy - memory? - nearly able to hear his murmured words of encouragement against her skin. Her toes curled, angling the vibrator so it was pressed against her clit still, but notching her entrance, and she came in a rush. 

She dropped the vibrator on the bed, scrambling to shut it off before it hit the floor, then slumped back into the bed. 

The orgasm hadn’t helped. If anything, it had made her feel worse. Now, on top of everything else, she felt guilty for thinking of Spike as she got herself off, and lonely without him there to hold her through the aftershocks. 

Feeling gross, Buffy climbed out of bed and headed for a quick shower, giving herself a moment to lean against the wall and take a few shaky breaths. She barely had time for her friends, nevermind whatever Spike was. He wasn’t the kind of person she could even imagine incorporating into her life, knowing her friends, Giles, everyone would hate him. 

Moment over, Buffy finished cleaning herself - and her toy - up before going to hide it back away and climb into bed. Her mom had her final round of chemo the next afternoon, and Buffy wanted to keep Dawn distracted. 

Groaning at the feel of teeth against the back of his shoulder, Will tried to pull away. His head was aching, mouth dry, body heavy. 

“Wakey wakey, my prince.” Dru cooed, curled against his side. Will grumbled, feeling like absolute shit, wanting to just fall back into unconsciousness. 

“Tired.” He tried to pull away when her hand slid between his stomach and the mattress. “Dru, stop.”

“Play with me.” Her voice sang softly into his ear, hand finding his soft cock. Will hissed through his teeth as she started stroking him, too exhausted to pull away. 

“Dru.” He groaned, keeping his eyes shut. He wasn’t even sure what day it was anymore, she’d shown up mere hours after he’d called her, and he was fairly certain they’d gone on a bit of a bender. 

When she let go of him, cock not reacting at all to her touch, he relaxed back into the bed, hoping she was going to let him sleep. It was a stupid hope, but Will was a stupid man. 

Dru grabbed his shoulder, forcing him onto his back so she could climb atop him, dressed in the tiniest slip of a dress. 

“What time is it?” He asked, looking to his bedside clock, light streaming in around the shut blinds. 

“Play time.” Dru rocked against him, but she wasn’t even wet. Will caught her hips. 

“Dru,” he sighed as she poured at him. “Whatever we took is a shit comedown. Just let me hold you, yeah?”

“Oh, my William.” Dru sighed, falling to his chest, curling against him, keeping herself above him, forearm pressed to his chest. She pushed a curl from his forehead. “I missed you so.”

“Missed you, too, Dru.” Will mumbled, eyes falling shut, sleep trying to pull him back under. Teeth tugging on his lip forced his eyes open. “Come off it, Dru, let me sleep.”

“Who’s Dru?” She asked coyly, tongue trailing his jaw, up towards his ear. “Not me, no, no. Tell me, dark prince, what’s my name?”

Will groaned. Had her games always been so childish. 

“M’tired, pet.” He tried, the word an understatement. A slap to his face startled him. “Fucking-.”

“My name, silly boy.” She kissed him firmly, but not quite right. When he didn’t respond, Dru slapped him again, before climbing out of the bed. Will immediately missed the warmth of her body, forcing himself to wake up a bit more, leaning up on his elbows. Dru was sitting atop his dresser, pouting. 

“Dru-.” He started. 

“No!” She screamed, grabbing his watch and lobbing it at his head. Will dodged it, just barely. He climbed out of the bed, naked as the day he was born, walking over to kneel in front of her, sitting on his heels, remembering this position. Her knees parted, one foot hooking over his shoulder to drag him closer, lips still pouting as Will kissed the inside of her knee. 

“Come back to bed, my love.” He breathed in the familiar scent of her. “My dark princess, need you in my bed.”

“You need me?” She fluttered her lashes, using her heel to force him closer to her, sliding the hem of her dress up her hips. “How badly do you need me, my sweet boy?”

Not as badly as sleep, he thought, but the comfort she brought was a craving. Will pushed up higher, dragging his mouth up her thighs, even though his heart wasn’t in it. 

Chapter Text

Drusilla was dancing around the flat, higher than a kite, pointing out constellations on the ceiling that only she could see. Will watched, Dru reaching up from her spot on his coffee table, on her toes as she let her fingers skim the pop corned ceiling. 

“I can feel the stars, my William.” She hummed, eyes shut and head dropped back, free arm curled into her chest as she spun, reminding Will of the prima ballerina she had once been, told only to him in stories. 

“Just the ceiling, Dru.” He pointed out, mind a million miles away. 

“You’re no fun like this.” Dru stepped off the table, climbing onto his lap, her gentle hands massaging his scalp. Will grunted, leaning into her touch, muscle memory kicking in. “Come fly with me.”

“Got work in the morning.” He reminded her, hissing when she gripped his hair, too tight for how hungover he still was. He’d been out of it for nearly a full week, only coming to last Friday afternoon, trying his best to recuperate since. 

“Bugger work.” Dru leaned in, kissing his throat. “I miss you, don’t you miss me?”

“Course I do, Dru-.” He stopped when she pulled back with a sharp glare. “Kitten, but I need to work.”

“You didn’t always need to.” She reminded him, kissing gently, almost teasingly, at his lips. Will closed his eyes, not happy for the reminder. 

“That was before, Princess.” He kissed her back, groaning in pain when she shoved him back by the throat. 

“Shall I leave again, my William? Shall I go away, and leave you here all alone?” Her threat hit the mark, and Will dug his fingers into her thighs. He couldn’t survive being alone, not again. Dru cooed, leaning in, kissing his eyelids. “I don’t want to leave you, never do, my darling. You just make mummy so mad sometimes.”

“M’sorry.” Will whispered the words against her clavicle, head heavy. “I don’t mean to-.”

“I know, I know, sweet boy.” Dru turned his face up, looking down at him with soft eyes, and Will could feel the tears welling in his eyes. She’d always known how to get him to bare his soul. “I just want to help you. You know that, don’t you? I do it all for you.”

“I love you.” Will said, leaning up towards her. Dru smiled, meeting him in a proper kiss, though it felt wrong. 

“Take me to bed, my love,” Dru told him, clinging to his body. “Take me to bed, show me how you love me.”

Will stood, holding her tight, ignoring the weight in his chest that told him this was wrong, bringing her to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind himself. 

“It’s just me!” Buffy called, cursing at herself in her mind as she ran up the stairs. She’d forgotten all the class plans she had made up the night before in her bedroom when she couldn’t sleep. “I just need to grab some papers for work, and then I’m gone!”

Joyce didn’t respond. 

“Mom? Did Giles already come to get you?” Buffy grinned at her own joke, taking the stairs two at a time as she came back down, pausing halfway. Her mother was on the couch. “Mom, it’s not time for a nap. Giles’ll be here any minute.”

Buffy shook her head, starting into the living room to wake her up. It was her last chemo appointment, she should-.

“Mom?” Buffy froze in the middle of the living room, her mothers eyes wide open from where she was slumped sideways on the couch. “Mom?”

She took a step closer, dropping her papers on the floor. 

“Mommy?”

Will rubbed his temples. Dru had kept him up all night, singing her songs and trying to convince him to take the little pink pills that she promised would make him stronger. It took everything to decline her, and he’d finally fucked her into a deep sleep, just in time for his alarm to go off. 

He was grateful for his prep period, even though he knew he should be doing something more than drinking coffee and trying not to be sick. A murmur of voices in the hall nearly made him groan, but he forced himself out of his seat anyway. Snyder would have his ass if he found out Will wasn’t checking the students for hall passes during class time. 

Will froze in his doorway, glad he had left his mug of coffee on his desk, as he knew it would be shattered on the floor. He stared at the blonde girl, wanting to scream, grab her, drop to his knees and sob. Then Robin - why had he ever liked the man? He was a right prick - let his hand fall to her elbow, and Will felt Spike rearing his ugly head; Dru would be so proud. She’d been calling him soft anytime she had been sober enough to notice him. 

But Dru was the furthest thing from his mind as Buffy walked through the hallway, strides matching the vice principals as they moved together. Will didn’t know what to do, couldn’t move, embarrassed by himself. 

He was wearing tan trousers and a white button up, even his fucking glasses for christ's sake. If Buffy saw him, Dru’s hurtful words about what a nonce he was would be laughable in comparison. 

Will stepped back slightly, watching as they stopped outside the art classroom. Robin pushed the door open, leaning in, speaking. Buffy fidgeted, looking at the floor, a sadness to her he’d never seen. A part of him wanted to go to her, to comfort her, the fucking sap. 

Dawn Summers walked out of the classroom, looking confused. 

“Buffy?” She asked loudly, clearly familiar with the blonde. 

“Come on, Dawnie, I’m kidnapping you.” Buffy said, but the joke sounded strained. Dawn furrowed her brow. 

“You literally just yelled at me for ditching class, what are you talking about?” Dawn shook her head, stepping back when Buffy tried to reach for her. “What’s going on?”

“Come on, Xan’s waiting out front-.”

“What’s Xander doing here?” Dawn froze. “Where’s Mom?”

Buffy spoke softly, and Dawn shook her head, stepping further back. 

“Buffy, where’s Mom? She would never let you pull me out like this.” Dawn’s voice was shrill, and it all fell into place in Will’s mind like pieces of an intricate puzzle, and he gasped silently. 

Buffy was talking softly to Dawn, and Will knew what he was telling her. 

Dawn had confided in him recently that her sister had moved home, and he figured it meant their mother wasn’t getting better. Buffy had told him her life was too busy, too hectic. A sick mother and a kid sister would be a lot, and Buffy felt everything deeply. No wonder she’d needed a break. 

“No!” Dawn’s shouted sob broke him from his thoughts, watching as she collapsed against Buffy - against her sister. “No! No!”

Buffy held Dawn tightly as they went to the floor together. She was stroking her hair, murmuring softly to her as Dawn’s sobs broke the silence of the hallway. Robin bent to speak to the girls, but Dawn’s sobs drowned out his words as a few students started peering out into the halls, wanting to find the source of the commotion. 

Will jumped into action. 

“My classroom is empty,” he said in a rush, speaking mostly to Robin. 

“Yes, Miss Summers, maybe if we could just get your sister into Mr Pratt’s room for some privacy?” Robin’s voice was soft and encouraging. Buffy nodded, pressing a kiss to her sister's head. 

“Yeah, thanks-.” She looked up in Will’s direction, eyes going wide as the recognition hit her. Her arms tightened around her sister. 

“Miss Summers?” Robin urged. 

“Oh, yeah.” Buffy stood, practically carrying her sister to the classroom, and Will shut the door firmly behind them. Buffy was rocking Dawn, who was nearly screaming as she cried. She looked up at Robin, ignoring Will. “Uh, Mr Wood-.”

“Robin.” He corrected her. 

“Right, uh, could you go out front, look for the big truck? My friend Xander-.” She started, and Robin nodded, already starting out the door. 

Will stood awkwardly by his desk, his student sobbing on his classroom floor, while she was comforted by her older sister, whom he had confessed his love for a few weeks prior, only for her to stomp on his heart. Buffy was very clearly avoiding looking at him, while he stared at her, taking her in. She looked as beautiful as she had the day he’d first seen her in the Bronze. 

The door flew open, a guy in a floral button up striding in quickly. Will recognized him from the time he’d hugged Buffy at the Bronze. He crouched down near the sisters. 

“Hey, Dawnster,” his voice was soft as he laid a gentle hand on the brunette's back. She shook her head, huddling further into her sister's embrace. 

“Did you get a hold of Wils?” Buffy asked, hand curled around her sister's head. Xander shook his head. 

“Got Tara, she said she’d head straight to her. What about-?”

“Jenny said they’re covering the hospital.” Buffy said, words going tight at the end. Dawn let out another gut-wrenching sob. “Can you help me lift her?”

Xander nodded, reaching for the girl and extracting her from her sister. “C’mere, Dawnster. Remember when you used to make me carry you around like a princess?”

Dawn sobbed in response, curling into him, arms around his neck, clearly familiar with the boy. Xander stood, Buffy doing the same, finally glancing at Will. He straightened up. 

“Thank you, um, Mr Pratt.” She gave him a short nod, lips pressed together.

“Will.” He told her, and she nodded again. 

“We’re gonna, uh. Thanks.” Buffy fumbled over her words, and then she was gone, Dawn’s sobs quieting to gasps and sniffles as they disappeared down the hall. 

Will sat down at his desk, dropping his head against the wood with a loud thump as he groaned. He really had royally screwed things up. 

Chapter Text

Buffy hadn’t cried in three days, which was, coincidentally, the same amount of time it had been since her mom had died. 

Dawn hadn’t stopped crying yet, though it had mostly settled to silent streams of tears from her eyes. 

Jenny and Giles had taken up residence at the Summers household, rotating with Willow and Xander to ensure the two girls were never left without support. Buffy felt too numb to know if she should thank them or send them away. 

It had been seven hours and - Buffy checked the watch on her wrist- eighteen minutes since they had buried Joyce in a private funeral for close friends and family. 

Buffy and Dawn had stood at the front, Giles close by for support. Willow, Xander and Tara had stood to one side, Janice and her parents on the other. One of her moms sisters had been in attendance, and Jenny was with her. 

Hank Summers had not shown up, and no one had been surprised. 

The reception, which had been open to anyone, had started an hour earlier, and Buffy had made it fifteen whole minutes before ducking out. She could hear the murmur of voices, but sat frozen on the back step, staring up at the starless sky. She wondered if the stars were hidden by the light of the city, or if they were doing like her, and ducking out on their responsibilities, too. 

The faint smell of smoke signalled his arrival. 

“Sorry about your mum.” Spike - Mr Pratt? Will? - spoke softly, dropping to sit down beside her. Buffy didn’t acknowledge him, so he kept talking. “Lost my own mum when I was just older than the bit, barely nineteen.”

Buffy looked down at her hand, the cuticle on her right thumb lifting slightly. She should really do something about that. 

“She was a sweet woman, your mum.” He let out a soft breath. “Met her at parents' night. Smiled the whole time, told me all about how Dawn was a straight A student.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, hands on her biceps. 

“I remember that night. She called me after.” Buffy’s lipped tugged up at the side. “Said she got why all her book club friends were swooning over you, but thought you seemed lonely.”

“She did a good job of keeping me company that night.” Spike agreed, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. Buffy wanted to ask him for a piece of gum just to see if he was still carrying it with him. 

“I-.” Buffy started, turning to face him, finding he was already looking at her, gaze soft. She swallowed. “I wanted to, um, thank you. Dawn says your the only teacher who doesn’t treat her like a time bomb.”

“Snyder told me all about you.” He chuckled, bumping his shoulder against her own. “‘Course, didn’t know it was you at the time. Just the big bad Summers sister.”

“That’s me. Big and bad.” Buffy nodded, nearly leaning against him, until the door swung open behind them. 

“My William,” an almost musical, British voice called out, and Buffy jumped away from the man like she’d been burned, glancing back. A willowy brunette was standing at the door, lips red, silk black dress somehow managing to look like lingerie even though it went down past her knees. 

“Dru, thought I left you at the flat.” Will - Spike? Buffy didn’t know who he was - stood up, the mirage of a woman floating towards him. Buffy stood as well, feeling short and inadequate in front of the other woman, an almost ethereal beauty to her. 

“I missed you, and Miss Edith was getting so cross.” The woman - Dru - wrapped her arms almost possessively around his shoulders, his arm wrapping around her waist like it was muscle memory. 

“Dru, kitten, Miss Edith can’t be cross. She’s…” Will started to talk, but Buffy was suddenly hit with a hundred memories of him calling her kitten, almost always in the bedroom, except for the time they’d been putting on a show for Riley. She’d naively thought it was just for her. 

“I should head back in.” Buffy said, unsure if she was cutting him off. She went in before either of them could say another word. 

“Hey, there you are!” Tara greeted her, opening her arm for Buffy to wrap her arms around her middle. “How ya doing?”

“Where’s Dawn?” Buffy countered, avoiding the question. Tara ran a soothing hand through her hair. 

“With Mr Giles,” Tara told her softly, and Buffy nodded, accepting a quick squeeze before heading to find her sister and godfather. 

Once she was with them, Dawn leaned into her embrace, nearly taller than her. Buffy glanced at Giles, who gave her a soft look. 

“You don’t have to stand here.” Giles told her, and Buffy nodded, looking around the room, filled with too many people, trying to find her own people. Willow caught her eye, dragging Xander over. 

“Hey,” Willow reached out, giving Buffy’s arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“Can you take Dawn up to my room?” Buffy asked, her sister’s slender form heavy against her side. Willow nodded, whispering a few soft words to the younger girl before leading her away. Buffy took the vacated spot beside Giles, close to the refreshments table so people could stroll by easily to give their condolences before grabbing a cocktail sausage. 

“I can handle this.” Giles told her, and Buffy shook her head. 

“I’m fine.” She lied, because what else was she supposed to say?

“Hey, B.” Faith greeted her with a hug, making her freeze before awkwardly returning it. Faith did not strike her as the hugging type. 

“Um, thanks.” Buffy forced a smile as Faith pulled back. 

“Look, you know I’ve got you covered, right? I’ll handle Wilkins, kay? You just chill.” Faith instructed, and the forced smile softened to something nearly genuine in Buffy’s face. 

“Thanks.” She leaned forward, giving the other girl a tight hug of her own, before Faith wandered off. Anya was standing alone by the window, where Xander had abandoned her. 

Buffy stood with Giles for the next thirty minutes, face aching as person after person came to tell her how much they’d adored her mother and how missed she would be. She couldn’t tell who was genuine and who was lying through their teeth. 

“Buffy, darling,” Ethan came up near the end, his nephew and the willowy brunette just behind him. “Your mum was a good woman.”

“Thank you.” Buffy gave him a smile, ignoring the eyes on her face. 

“Rupert, I don’t believe you’ve met my nephew.” Ethan waved the blonde man up. He unwrapped his arm from his date, stepping forward; she stayed close behind him, eyes on Buffy’s face. “William, this is Rupert, my oldest and dearest friend.”

“Dearest is a stretch.” Giles scoffed warmly, shaking Will’s hand. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr Summers.” He said, startling a strangled laugh from Buffy. Giles’ eyes went wide, and Jenny, who was at the other end of the refreshments table laughed loudly before covering her mouth. Will looked around, eyes wide. 

“Oh, no - no, I’m not-.” Giles shook his head. “Joyce was a dear friend, but nothing more.”

“Oh, sorry, I just assumed…” Will trailed off. 

“Oh, of course.” Giles waved him off. “I’m the girls godfather, my wife and I have been helping with everything.”

Jenny waved from where she was stifling a smile. Will nodded, looking apologetic; Buffy would have smiled had it not been for the look she was receiving over his shoulder. She shifted a bit closer to her godfather. 

“How’a the bit?” Will asked Buffy, and her brow furrowed. 

“The what?” She asked, and Dru laughed, leaning over Will’s shoulder slightly. 

“The little one.” She explained condescendingly. 

“Dru.” Will said, voice low in warning. She tucked her face against his neck, and Ethan grumbled a bit. 

“Ah yes, you’re the new English teacher, correct?”

“He was there when I told her.” Buffy told him, and he frowned as Buffy forced herself to meet Will’s eyes. “It’s been a lot. She’s resting right now, but she’ll be back down soon.”

“Again, I’m so sorry for your loss.” Will told her earnestly, and then they were gone. Ethan sighed. 

“That’s her, then?” Giles asked, eyes following at the blonde and brunette moved across the room. 

“Yes. Don’t know how she found him.” Ethan said bitterly. Buffy looked between the men. 

“Who is she?” Buffy asked, trying to sound casual. Ethan sighed, taking a swig of the brown liquor in his glass. 

“Reason I got ol’ Ripper here to pull some strings to get the boy a job at that shit hole of a high school - no offense.” Ethan rolled the last bit out with a huff. “Dragged the poor boy around like a love sick school boy for seven years before-.”

“Maybe now’s not the best time.” Giles cut the other man off harshly, and Buffy wanted to shush him, but then she spotted Dawn coming down the stairs with Willow and Tara. She forgot about whatever was being said to go and grab her sister’s hand as Giles went about thanking everyone for coming, giving anyone an opportunity to say a few words for Joyce. Dawn gripped Buffy’s hand in a near bone-crushing hold, and Buffy just gave her hand a few tight squeezes in return. 

A few hours later found Dawn asleep with her head on Tara’s lap as the house gradually emptied. Buffy walked around, picking up paper plates that people had left on any surface possible, pausing when she heard a muffled argument. 

“-not the time!” It was Will’s voice, coming from Dawn’s room. Buffy lowered the bag of trash to the floor, stepping closer. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time, dearest.” Dru’s voice was warm like honey. 

“Dru, it’s a funeral!”

“Oh, my Spike, remember when Mrs Hotswalt died, and-.”

“Drusilla!” Will’s voice was harsh. “We are at my students house for her mothers funeral!”

Their voices dropped, and Buffy grabbed the doorknob, swinging it open roughly. Will jumped back from Drusilla, his fly halfway unzipped. His mouth opened, but no words came out. 

“The service is over.” Buffy said curtly. “Thanks so much for coming, but we’re asking everyone to head out now.”

Will was still scrambling for words when Buffy all but fled the room, but he caught her easily, just before the living room, hand on her wrist. She froze, glancing down where he gripped her arm until he released. 

“I’m sorry, I-.”

“I’m sure it meant a lot to Dawn that you came today, you were the only member of the faculty that came.” Buffy took a step away from him, watching the way his face fell. “Have a good night, Mr Pratt.”

Buffy didn’t give him a chance to respond, going to find Xander where he was picking all the pretzels out of the party mix leftover. Anya gave Buffy a soft, if not a bit awkward, smile as she leaned against Xander’s side. 

“You have so many people who love you.” She told Buffy, reaching out to squeeze her arm gently. Buffy smiled gratefully, hyper aware of the couple currently bidding their farewells to Giles at the door. 

She didn’t look. 

Buffy was nearly asleep when her door creaked open. She sat up as Dawn stepped into the room shyly, and Buffy pulled back the blankets for her sister to climb into the bed with her. 

Buffy let her younger sister cuddle against her side, head pillowed on Buffy’s shoulder. 

“Giles snores.” Dawn whispered, voice a bit shaky. “Like, really loud.”

Buffy gave her a squeeze. “Scared you?”

“No.” Dawn said, a clear lie as she scootched closer. “I just worry about the structural integrity of the house when he’s literally making the walls shake.”

“Go to sleep.” Buffy instructed, starting to play with her hair and humming a soft tune, the one their mom always hummed when they were sick. Dawn sniffled, tears wetting Buffy’s throat, holding on tightly like she was afraid Buffy might vanish if she let her. Buffy kissed the crown of her head as she dozed off. 

Once she was certain that Dawn was asleep, spread out and taking up most of the bed, Buffy slipped out. Dawn didn’t stir, and Buffy knew she would be out until at least noon, so she pulled on her clothes before sneaking out like a teenager, Giles unaware as he snored on the couch. 

The world was silent as Buffy walked down her street, feeling a hollow sadness. It still didn’t feel real that her mom wasn’t there, and she didn’t know who she was supposed to talk to about that. Whenever something felt off, she always talked to her mom. So, when her feet led her to the cemetery, she wasn’t completely shocked, and went and stood by her mothers grave, the dirt still fresh. 

“I miss you.” Buffy started, heart immediately jumping to her throat, words stuck halfway out. How was she supposed to do this?

She wasn’t even thirty - her mom was supposed to be around to watch her get married, to be a grandma to her future kids, to watch Dawn graduate high school and get into a top university. Buffy wasn’t supposed to be alone so early. 

Someone came to stand beside her, and Buffy didn’t have to look to see who it was. 

“Sorry I didn’t make it in time for the funeral.” Angel said softly, her first boyfriend having become a hotshot lawyer out in LA. His hand slid down into Buffy’s, linking their fingers together. Buffy squeezed his hand. 

“You’re here now.” Buffy leaned against him, the familiar smell beneath his expensive cologne washing over her, and suddenly, she was sixteen again. She was sixteen, and in love with an older guy who her mom didn’t approve of, and that was her biggest problem in life. 

And for the first time in three days, Buffy cried. 

Chapter Text

Angel held her while she cried, arms strong and comforting as she sobbed against his chest. He hushed her, whispering words of comfort into her hair as she shook. 

It wasn’t fair. 

Her mom was supposed to have the surgery and get better. The cancer wasn’t supposed to press on a nerve, it wasn’t supposed to kill her. Buffy had never thought it was going to actually kill her. 

Buffy cried until her legs gave out, her ex supporting her completely. She didn’t have it in her to be embarrassed that she was breaking down in front of the guy who had left her for better and brighter things, just letting him reassure her that things would be alright. 

She pretended to believe him. 

Angel sat them down, keeping his arms around her, letting her lean her back against him, tucking his chin over her shoulder. 

“You know you can handle anything, right?” Angel asked softly as Buffy played with his fingers. 

“But Dawnie-.”

“-has you, and half the town to support her.” He kissed the side of her neck. Buffy hummed, and he pulled away from her slightly, waiting until she turned to face him. His large hand cupped her cheek. “Buffy, you’re the strongest girl I’ve ever met.”

“But Cordelia-.”

“Cordelia is great.” Angel let out a breath of a laugh, tugging her forward slightly, pressing their foreheads together. “But she’s not you.”

Buffy shut her eyes, shaking her head against his. He’d been the one to leave, to go and have a whole life out in LA without even giving her the option to come with him. 

“We broke up last year.” Angel told her, voice soft, hopeful, and she did what any rational girl would in her situation; she kissed him. 

Buffy stared up at the ceiling of Angel’s obscenely large rental house. It was on the outskirts of the city, and they’d been practically hiding out in it since the night of the funeral two and a half weeks prior. 

Her friends and sister thought she just needed alone time, that she was too overwhelmed by everything. And, it wasn’t a complete lie. 

She did want to be alone, but she was enjoying the bubble that they’d created here in Angel’s residence. It was easy with Angel, and they could pretend it was just the two of them, and that the world outside didn’t exist. 

“Buffy?” His voice entered the room, and she pushed to sit up on the couch as he walked up to her. She lifted her legs for him to sit down, resting her calves across his lap. “You should eat something.”

Buffy sighed, shaking her head and leaning her side against the back of the couch. “Not hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked, and Buffy scrunched up her nose, trying to remember. “Come on, I’ll make you-.”

“I’m not hungry.” Buffy said, trying to sound sharp but coming out soft and sad instead. Swinging her legs off the couch, Buffy got up, looking up to try and hold the tears at bay. 

“Buffy…” Angel came up behind her, turning her slowly by the waist. Buffy leaned into his chest. “You need to tell them I’m here.”

“Why?” Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “They’ll try to-.”

“We won’t let them.” His hands slid up to cradle her jaw, and she pushed up on her toes, trying to lose herself in the kiss. Angel kept it tame, pulling back when she tried to deepen it, ignoring her whine. “Buffy.”

“I should head home, anyways.” She lied, rejection stinging her chest. 

“Buffy, you know I want to.” He pulled her back, and Buffy let him, too tired to fight. She nodded, even though she didn’t know. 

They’d seen each other every day since he’d come back to Sunnydale, and hadn’t done more than kiss. Buffy had tried to initiate something a few times, and had been shut down each time, so she’d stopped trying. 

“Of course.” Buffy agreed, even though she really couldn’t tell. She felt like she was sixteen again, trying to figure out what Angel wanted. “But Dawn…”

“Of course.” Angel nodded, hand on her back as he led her to the front door. “Call me when you get home?”

“As soon as I can.” Buffy promised, receiving a gentle press of his mouth against her own before she was off. 

The walk home wasn’t too long, but definitely long enough for her to think too hard for her own good. It was eating away at her, keeping Angel from everyone, but she knew none of them would approve. By the end of their relationship when Buffy had been nineteen and he’d been twenty three, they’d all hated him more than Buffy had thought possible. 

Hell, Buffy herself wasn’t even sure how she felt about him, but she could still feel the remnants of the love she’d once had for him. Angel had always had an innate ability to make her feel safe, and she needed that. 

Her mom was gone, and everyone else kept asking her how she was doing and what she needed, and it made her want to rip her hair out. The solitude of Angel’s house was a welcome relief, even if there was an itch inside of her for something more, it was unrealistic. Angel had been her whole word for years, she’d grieved their relationship for too long to give up on it now that she had the chance. 

Buffy paused in her walk, nearly home, turning to look down a different street. A street she had walked countless times in the months leading up to her mothers passing, to a place that had once hidden her from the world. She frowned. 

Whatever she’d had with Spike had been as fake as the name he’d given her. He was far from the bad boy she’d spent time with, if Dawn’s stories and Giles’ recollections of what Ethan had told him were anything to go by. It seemed as though William Pratt was softer, without the harsh edges she associated with Spike. He enjoyed poetry, had been top of his class, loved his mother dearly, wore glasses and, oh yeah, had been in love with the same woman for the past eleven years. 

A convenient detail he had left out. 

Shaking her head, Buffy continued her path back home. The warm spring air felt wrong when her insides felt so cold and dark, like the sun had no right to be shining on her skin. 

“Buffy?” Giles called from the kitchen as she walked in. 

“It’s me.” She confirmed, looking at the couch, empty in the living room. Had she sat on it since she found her mothers lifeless body on it? She couldn’t remember. 

“Where were you? Jenny and Dawn have been trying to track you down.” Giles asked, drying his hands on a towel as he walked up to her. “Buffy?”

“Hm?” She glanced up at him, away from the couch. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“You should try to get some rest.” He told her instead of repeating himself, brow furrowed in concern. Buffy shook her head. 

“Not tired.” She lied. Sleep wasn’t coming easily, and when it did, it was plagued by nightmares. “Do you need any help with dinner?”

“No, I just put it in the oven. Are you sure you don’t want to lay down for a bit?” His hand fell to her shoulder blade, and Buffy gave him a tight smile. 

“I’m fine, just gonna go upstairs and give Willow a call.” Her chest felt tight with the lie, feeling as that was all she did anymore; lie. 

Lie about Angel, lie to Angel. Lie to her friends, her sister, her godfather, herself. It exhausted her, made her stomach feel sick, but she couldn’t bear letting any of them down. She was supposed to be strong, to be Dawn’s rock, to show how mature she was, that she didn’t need to be coddled. 

“Buffy?” Angel answered on the first ring. 

“Yeah, I’m home.” She told him, sitting on the edge of her bed, playing with the edge of her blanket. 

“Buffy, you sound exhausted.” Angel said earnestly, and Buffy smiled down at her own lap, shaking her head. 

“You sound just like Giles.” Buffy told him, releasing the blanket to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m gonna hop in for a quick shower, though. I’ll call you later tonight?”

“Of course.” Angel agreed easily, and Buffy hung up before collecting her robe and towel, hoping that maybe the shower would make her feel a bit more human. 

Will let out a sigh as he rolled off his girlfriend. Dru hummed, curling into his side as he tied off the condom, sitting up to toss it to the bin. She started kissing any skin she could reach as he relaxed back into the bed. 

“God, you’re insatiable, woman.” He let out a soft chuckle as she bit down on the corner of his jaw. 

“Tell me you love me.” She said against his lips. 

“You know I do.” Will told her, and she pulled away, lips pink and swollen from kisses turned down in a pout. 

“Do you?” She asked, and Will shut his eyes, tugging her down to his chest with the arm that had slid around her waist. 

“What would make you think differently?” He opened his eyes to look at her face, eyes just as wide and full of wonder as they had been when he’d first met her at nineteen. Her hands traced the features of his face. 

“You seem different.” Dru told him, voice far away, letting him know she was getting too into her head. 

“Hey, come back to me.” Will reached out, gripping the back of her neck. She hummed, eyes fluttering shut. “Dru?”

“Let’s go on a trip.” Her eyes opened, and she was out of the bed, throwing open his closet before he had the time to process her words. 

“A trip? Dru? What are you on about?” He sat up, confused. Dru began pulling clothes out, examining them before tossing them to his bed. 

“Oh, we should go to Rome! You always promised to take me there!” She clutched his shirt to her chest, shutting her eyes and swaying slightly. 

“Dru, I can’t just leave. I have a job.” He pointed out. Dru laughed. 

“Oh, bugger your job, my love.” She pulled out another shirt, a dark blue one, wrinkling her nose and tossing it to the floor, before coming back to the bed. Will watched her as she climbed back onto his lap, eyes glassy; she was high. Had she been high the whole time? They hadn’t taken anything. 

“You’re high.” He frowned. Dru wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her mouth to his. 

“Come back to me, my darling prince.” She whispered against his lips. 

“Dru-.” He started, words cutting off in a gasp when she gripped his hair tight with both hands, too painful for it to be pleasurable. 

“I want my darling prince back.” She told him harshly, and Will forced his eyes open, finding her wide, brown gaze narrowed at him. 

“I am-.”

“You’re not!” Dru shouted, shoving him roughly back to the bed and climbing off. She grabbed her dressing gown, and Will scrambled after her as she left the room. 

“Dru, kitten, come back to bed!” He stumbled as he tripped over the clothes she had thrown to the floor. 

“I can’t!” Her voice was a shrill cry, her hands pressed to her temples. She slid down the wall to the floor, and Will was at her side in a second. 

“Dru, princess, baby,” he cooed, lifting her chin up, her watery gaze meeting his. “Let me help you, please.”

“Take me out?” She asked, grasping onto his wrists. “Oh, take me away from this awful place, my love. I need to feel the night.”

“Anywhere.” Will nodded, kissing her desperately. 

Chapter Text

A loud thundering noise threatened to wake Buffy, and she grumbled, curling against the source of heat that was wrapped around her. Angel tightened his grip, and she sighed, relaxing slightly, before the knocking returned. 

“Door.” Buffy mumbled against his throat. Angel grumbled, still mostly asleep. 

“Buffy! We know you’re in there!” Willow’s voice called and Buffy jumped up, half awake and fully scared. Angel rolled off the couch with a thud, cursing. 

“Fuck!” Buffy whisper-shouted, meeting Angel’s wide eyes with wide eyes of her own. She’d fallen asleep. They’d both fallen asleep. 

“Buffy!” Jenny called now, and Buffy winced. There was more banging, and Buffy scrambled to straighten her clothes - there was a half finished bottle of wine still open on the table, the throw blanket on the floor as Angel stood up. 

She was smoothing down her hair as she got to the large door, pulling it open. 

Giles was at the head of the group, pushing his way into the house, followed by Willow, Xander, Jenny and Dawn. 

“Hey, guys!” Buffy greeted, voice too bright and chipper. 

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” Giles demanded, and Buffy felt herself shrink back at his anger. She glanced at her friends, Willow’s face taught with concern, Xander’s confusion, Jenny looked upset, and Dawn had red eyes, pulling away from their de facto godmother to hug Buffy. 

“I thought something terrible had happened.” Dawn told her, voice soft and raspy from crying. Buffy hugged her back tightly. 

“No.” She pulled back to cup her sister's face. “No, I’m so sorry, Dawnie. We just fell asleep.”

“We?” Willow asked. 

Angel cleared his throat, giving an awkward two fingered wave as he walked into the room. Everyone stared in shock for about three seconds, before Xander was striding up and hitting the taller man with a rather impressive right hook. Dawn let out a startled cry, and Buffy shoved her towards Willow and Jenny as she rushed over to where Giles was pulling Xander back. 

Angel stretched out his jaw, lip bleeding and cheek already starting to swell. Buffy winced as he shook it off, before rounding on her friend. 

“Xander! What the hell?” She demanded, shoving him back towards Giles. 

“I could ask you the same question!” Xander shook Giles off, gesturing behind Buffy to where Angel stood. “Really?”

“It’s not-.” Buffy glanced back to where Angel was glaring at Xander, then back to her friend. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, so you haven’t fucked him yet?” Xander spat out and Buffy flinched back into Angel, who steadied her with hands on her upper arms, from the corner of her eye, she saw Dawn trying to evade the hands Willow was attempting to clamp over her ears. 

“No! God, Xander!” Buffy stepped away from Angel. “He showed up the night of the funeral, and he’s just been here for me, as someone a bit outside of the situation.”

“And why’s he not a part of the situation, Buff?” Xander challenged. “Oh yeah, because he fucked off to LA!”

“Hey-!” Angel went to push around Buffy, but she shoved him back. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” Giles finally stepped him, pushing Xander behind herself. Buffy swallowed, face flushing with shame as he looked at her. “You could have told us, Buffy.”

“Because this went so well.” Buffy let out a soft laugh, sniffling. She looked over to where Jenny was still standing with Dawn; Willow had moved to Xander to try and talk him down. Giles nodded with a frown.  

“I think what Rupert is trying to say,” Jenny started, letting go of Dawn to walk over. “Is that we love you, and you’re an adult. We don’t have to agree with your decisions, but if we had known where you were, we wouldn't have spent the night looking for you.”

“Yes, yes.” Giles nodded, running his hand over his mouth and jaw. 

“Nope! I’m out!” Xander announced loudly, throwing his hands up in the air and walking out. Willow gave Buffy an apologetic look before following him out. Buffy finally met Dawn’s eyes, and the younger girl pressed her lips together before following Xander and Willow. 

“I’m sorry, Angel-.”

“Go.” He told her, and Buffy started after her sister. 

Dawn was sitting on the curb, and Buffy dropped down beside him. 

“Hey.” She said softly, and Dawn dragged her toe across the road. 

“I didn’t even realize it was him.” Dawn said after a long moment. “Not until Willow told me. I didn’t remember what he looked like.”

“Dawnie, I’m so sorry.” Buffy reached out, grabbing her hand. Dawn held on tightly, leaning her head against Buffy’s shoulder. 

“Xander’s really pissed.” Dawn commented; and Buffy just nodded her head, turning slightly to kiss the top of her head. 

“He never liked Angel to begin with.” Buffy explained. “So when things ended, it didn’t really make his dislike go away. Especially the way they ended.”

“How did they end?” Dawn asked, looking up at Buffy. Buffy shook her head again. 

“Are you girls ready to go?” Giles asked, walking up behind them. Dawn nodded, and Buffy stood up, reaching for his sister's hand to pull her up. Giles took off his glasses, pulling a cloth from his pocket to wipe them. “Jenny?”

“Dawnie, why don’t you come with me? Willow and Xander already took off, and I hate driving alone.” Jenny said, already looping her arm through Dawn’s. Buffy watched them go, before following Giles to his tiny little car. 

He didn’t say anything as he pulled away from the house, not even looking at her. It felt worse than yelling. 

“How did you guys find me?” She finally asked after several minutes of uncomfortable silence. 

“Tara saw you heading this way.” Giles said, jaw tense. “She’s at the house, waiting in case you turn up.”

“I didn’t mean-.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” Giles snapped, cutting her off. “It’s always something with him, isn’t it? When you were sixteen-.”

“I’m not sixteen anymore!” She defended herself. 

“No, you’re not. You’re twenty eight years old, for heaven's sake, Buffy! You should know better by now!”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Did you mean to sneak out with him?” Giles glanced over, and Buffy kept her mouth shut. “God, how many times have you two snuck around like this?”

“A few.” Buffy lied, and Giles made a noise that she knew meant he didn’t believe her. “Every night since the funeral.”

Giles nodded curtly as they pulled up to Revello drive. He shut off the car, but made no move to get out, so Buffy sat still, knowing he probably still had something to say. “You know how I feel about him.”

“Yes.” She nodded. 

“I can’t stop you from seeing him, but if you can’t let us know-.”

“I will.” Buffy turned to fade him. Giles still didn’t look over, but he nodded one final time before getting out of the car. 

Will tapped his pen against his desk, thinking. He was trying to lesson plan, but his mind kept wandering. 

“Mr Pratt?” Dawn Summers' voice brought him from his thoughts. He glanced over at the young girl, seeing all the resemblance she carried from her older sister, and all that she did not. 

“Miss Summers,” he greeted, standing up. She’d been back at school for two days, after three weeks off. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was wondering if, um.” She shifted her weight. “Could I eat my lunch in here?”

“Of course.” He told her, waving his hand at the empty desks. She gave him a soft smile before walking over to one. Will watched her. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” Dawn pulled a sandwich from her bag, frowning at it. “Everyone in the cafeteria keeps giving me these looks.”

“Looks?” Will asked. Dawn sighed. 

“Like I’m the girl with the dead mom.” She said, voice soft, refusing to meet his gaze. Will felt his heart drop. 

“Oh-.”

“And it’s just, like, I usually wouldn’t care, but with Angel and Buffy getting back together-.” She started, taking a bite of her sandwich. 

“Angel?” Will was unable to help himself from asking. Who was Angel? And what kind of a name was that? And what did Dawn mean by back together? Buffy had never mentioned any exes other than Riley. Dawn nodded, rapidly chewing her bite of food before answering. 

“Yeah, I don’t remember him much, because they dated right when we moved here and I was, like, three, but everyone is all worked up. Giles keeps muttering and Xander is refusing to talk to Buffy, and Jenny refuses to answer any of my questions! Willow said it’s not her place, and Tara said she’d tell me if she knew anything, but she didn’t start dating Willow until after he’d left.” Dawn took a breath, guilt immediately clouding her face. “Sorry, you don’t want to hear about this.”

“It’s alright, I told you, I’m here if you ever want to talk.” Will reminded her as he moved to sit on the side of his desk. “How do you feel about him?”

“I dunno.” Dawn shrugged, and Will tried to remind himself that it was none of his business. “He just seems kinda broody.”

“Broody?” Will asked, unable to picture Buffy with - well, with anyone other than him, but he couldn’t do that anymore. 

“Yeah, all like,” Dawn hunched her shoulders and furrowed her brow before dropping her voice. “‘I’m a hotshot lawyer and Buffy and I have an epic love story’.”

“Epic?” Will forced the work out, and Dawn scrunched her nose in a very Buffy-like fashion. 

“Yeah, he’s weird. I think he tries to use fancy words to sound smarter than he is, but he usually just sounds like someone kicked his puppy.” Dawn paused. “But I think if he has a puppy, it would be so depressed it might kill itself.”

“Seems like you do know what you think of him, then.” Will pointed out, and Dawn sighed. 

“Maybe. But Buffy cares about him, and everyone else is being so harsh about it, I don’t want to make her feel worse.” She frowned. “Giles yelled at her when he found out, and Xander hit him. Angel, not Giles.”

“That sounds like a lot.” Will commented, and Dawn shrugged one shoulder. 

“She’s been better at letting us know, and he’s come over a few times. He patted me on the head yesterday when I gave him a glass of water.”

“He patted you on the head?” Will couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image. Dawn nodded, lifting her hand to the top of her and patting it twice. 

“‘Thanks, champ.” She said, voice low again, before it returned to normal. “Champ? What am I? A six year old boy?”

“Sounds like he’s trying.” Will offered, hating to say it, but reminding himself that Buffy was none of his business anymore. He had Dru, and Buffy was allowed to live her life however she deemed fit, even if she had been the one to say she didn’t have the space in her life for a relationship. 

“I guess.” Dawn acquiesced. “I just wish he wouldn’t try so hard, y’know? Like, if Buffy likes him, there’s got to be a reason. She’s usually, like, super picky about the guys she dates. She’s only really ever dated him and Riley.”

“That’s it?” Will couldn’t help but blurt out, and Dawn laughed. 

“Yeah, back before we moved she was too busy getting into fights, and she calmed down when we got here, apparently.” Dawn took another bite of her sandwich. “My mom used to say she was guarded because of our dad. I don’t really remember him much, but apparently they were really close before the divorce.”

“You don’t remember him?” Will asked; after the funeral, he had assumed their father had long since passed. 

“He was really mad about the expulsion.” Dawn explained. “Apparently he wanted Buffy to be sent away, but my mom said she was just hanging out with the wrong crowd. So, they split up and we all moved here. I think he came and picked Buffy up for her seventeenth birthday for a few hours, but I only know what he looks like from the few pictures we have in the house.”

“I’m so sorry.” Will told her earnestly. Dawn took another bite of her sandwich as she shrugged. 

“I don’t really mind. We had Giles and Jenny - well, not always Jenny. Apparently they met while working here together.” 

“Here?” Will asked. Dawn smiled. 

“She taught computers, he was the librarian. Your classic enemies to lovers, Mr Pratt.” She paused. “Like Elizabeth and Mr Darcy.”

“Ah, so you do read the books I assign.” He chuckled, moving back around to sit at his desk. 

“I’m a straight A student, remember?” Dawn smiled. “I’m the good Summers’ sister.”

“Course you are.” Will agreed. 

Chapter Text

Will unlocked the door, freezing when Dru wasn’t immediately in his arms. 

“Love?” He called out, dropping his keys and looking around the empty flat. There was the soft sound of her laughter from their bedroom, and he grinned, wondering what she was up to. “Dru? What are you-?”

Will froze in his bedroom doorway, eyes locked on his girlfriend as she rode another bloke's cock. She glanced over her shoulder with a teasing smile. 

“My William,” she breathed out, hips undulating without missing a beat, reaching a hand out to him. “Come join us.”

The bloke, who was gagged, moaned, and Will didn’t move. He just stared, almost perplexed. 

He didn’t feel hurt, or mad, or turned on. Just mildly annoyed, and mostly that he was going to have to wash the sheets before he could go to bed. 

“Right.” Will stared for another moment, before shutting the door and walking back down the hallway. 

“William!” Dru called after him, moaning his name in a way that would’ve once made him go week in the knees, knowing she was stuffed full of another man’s prick and calling his name. Instead, he poured himself a few fingers of whiskey, ignoring the sounds coming from his bedroom. 

He was sitting on the couch when Dru came storming out, eyes wild and angry. 

“Done, then?” Will asked, nodding his chin towards the bedroom. 

“I told you to-.”

“Didn’t care, now did I?” He stood up. “He going home now, or do I have to drag him out?”

“What happened to you?” She asked, voice wary. Will sighed. 

“I grew up, Dru. You might want to try it out sometime.” He walked towards the kitchen. “He better be out of my fucking bed by the time I come in from my smoke.”

Will walked outside, patting his pockets and cursing. He didn’t like to smoke at work, so he usually left it all at home. When he walked back in, Dru was nowhere to be seen, and his lighter was gone from the table where his smokes sat. 

“Dru?” He called, worry filling his chest at what the mad woman might do. He started towards his bedroom. “Drusilla!”

Will slammed his door open, the dumb fucking guy pulling his pants up his hips. 

“Where is she?” Will demanded, and the fire alarm sounded. Will glanced behind him, where the bathroom door was ajar. He shoved it open, finding Dru on the floor, a small square of paper burning in her fingers. 

“What are you doing?” He shouted, pulling it from her hand and tossing it into the sink, turning on the water. Dru glared up at him from her spot on the floor, a familiar box on her lap. 

“It’s her.” Dru said, letting Will pull the box of Polaroids from her lap, filled with pictures he’d taken of Buffy. When she was sleeping, eating, tied up with her cock in his mouth. 

“Get up.” Will put the box down, pulling her up. 

“It’s her!” Dru screamed, shoving him off. “She broke you! My perfect boy!”

“Jesus Christ, Dru, put some clothes on, then we’ll talk.” He shook his head, stepping out of the bathroom to shut off the still beeping alarm, seeing the back of her latest victim high tailing it out of the apartment. Dru grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to turn back and look at her, her face nearly pressing against his. 

“You’re covered in her.” Dru said, disgust and venom dripping from her voice. “She took my perfect boy, and sullied him. What has she done to you, my William?”

“Nothing - stop it, Dru!” He slapped her hand away from his face where she was trying to trace his features. “God, what were you thinking?”

“I had to get rid of her!” Dru explained, sounding right batty. “To get my prince back, I had to-.”

“Oh, hop off it.” Will sneered, shaking her off completely and going back to grab the box. 

“She doesn’t love you. She never will.” Dru spat, trying to hurt him. God, had she always been this vindictive?

“Jusf pack your shit and go.” Will told her, suddenly exhausted, too tired to argue. 

“What?” Dru gasped. Will ignored her to pick up the charred and wet remains of a picture. She was wearing his shirt, a socked foot up, half blocking her face from the frame as she laughed. 

He ignored her, walking to the living room with the box to sort them out. Dru stood for a moment, before storming into the bedroom. Will sat down on the couch, pretending it was completely normal and casual for him to be so intent on no harm coming to his pictures. 

“Well?” Dru asked, stepping in front of him, bags packed. Will looked up at her, and she stared expectantly. “Aren’t you going to try and stop me?”

“Stop you?” Will blinked. “I can call you a cab, but only if you ask nicely.” He leaned back with a smirk. Her nostrils flared. 

“William Pratt-.”

“Oh, just go.” Will waved his hand in the general direction of the door, picking up a book from the coffee table that he’d been trying to read with little success. Drusilla stood motionless, before roughly picking up her bags and storming out. 

The door slammed shut, and Will let his book fall to his lap, slumping back in his seat. 

He was so fucked. He should find a hobby, start running or some shit to distract himself from how utterly and completely fucked he was. 

Kissing Angel was nice. 

Not “hot all over, need to have you now” nice, but nice nonetheless. He was a good kisser, always had been; perks at sixteen to dating a twenty year old, was that he had experience. 

“Wait, wait,” Buffy stopped him, leaning away as his mouth started trailing down her throat. 

“What?” He asked, arms still around her waist, Buffy in his lap. 

“I should head home.” Buffy told him, running her hand down his face, marvelling at how he’d managed to just look better with age. 

“It’s early-.”

“I know.” Buffy climbed off his lap, happy when he got up to follow her. He caught her around the waist, pulling her closer. “Angel.”

“Stay.” He encouraged, spinning her around to kiss her. Buffy smiled. 

“I have work in the morning.” Buffy reminded him, accepting a chaste peck. 

“I’ll drive you.” He tried, and Buffy furrowed her brow, laughing. 

“You’ll pick me up just to drive me to work, so I can spend a few more hours making out with you?” She giggled.

“Buffy, don’t be obtuse.” He sighed, and her laughter died down. 

“I’m not being obtuse, I have to-.”

“Stay.” Angel repeated the word, and Buffy paused. “Stay the night.”

“You mean-?” Buffy couldn’t finish her sentence. 

“Yeah.” Angel leaned in to kiss her again, and she let him, kissing him back, eyes open as she tried to process what he was asking. She pulled back again. 

“We should talk about this first.” She tried, hands in his chest. 

“What is there to talk about?” Angel asked, and she blinked. 

“What is - what do you mean? There’s so much to talk about!”

“I thought you wanted this!” Angel snapped, voice accusatory. Buffy blinked. She had wanted this, hadn’t she?

“I did - I do!” She quickly corrected. “I just…”

“You just…?” He pressed, and Buffy shook her head, pulling out of his arms. “Buffy-.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” She headed to the door, pulling her shoes on. Angel didn’t move, so she walked back over, kissing him gently, hand on his cheek. She pulled back before it could get any deeper. “Okay?”

Angel nodded, and she felt a knot forming in her stomach that she couldn’t explain, but walked out the door anyway.

Buffy had no idea why she turned him down. She’d been trying to get him to have sex with her for weeks, and he knew it. This was the step forward she wanted, wasn’t it? The dream come true?

Her high school love coming back when she was at her lowest, swooping in to save the day?

It all sounded right, but the tightness in her throat wasn’t from joy. 

Would he leave, now that she had turned him down? It wouldn’t be the first time he had left. 

The thought made Buffy pause. What would she do if he left her again? Could she survive it? Would she be able to handle yet another loss?

Buffy hesitated, unsure what to do. Go home, and hope things return to normal? Or turn back, walk into his waiting arms, and let him back into her life? Was she ready for that kind of commitment? With Angel, it always felt like an all or nothing ordeal. 

Her head hurt. She wanted to cry. She wanted so scream and break things. 

She wanted her mom. 

The sob bubbled past her lips, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. 

She wanted her mom, she wanted her mom to hold her, to tell her what to do, and let her know that everything would be alright if she made the wrong decision. She wanted her mom to make her hot chocolate, and stroke her hair, and hum her to sleep. 

Buffy ran back to Angel’s, and he stood as she stormed in. His eyes were wide with concern, but she kissed him before he could ask. 

“Buffy.” He breathed, but she shook her head, jumping up to wrap her legs around him, tasting her tears in their kiss. “Are you-?”

“Please.” Buffy kissed him like her life depended on it; maybe it did. “Please just - please.”

Angel nodded, and carried her to his bedroom. 

In the aftermath, Buffy felt numb. 

Angel was snoring beside her, arm thrown possessively over her waist. Buffy stared blankly in front of her. 

It hadn’t helped. 

Angel had been loving and attentive and perfect, making sure her needs were met and she felt good. It was everything she had dreamed their first time should have been like when she was a teenager. 

And yet, the warmth she once associated with him had been replaced by a cold emptiness. She turned to look at his sleeping face, features relaxed and serene. 

God, she’d never stop loving him. 

But, she wondered for the first time, if the love she felt for him was enough?

Chapter Text

Buffy grunted, muscles screaming at her to stop. She spun around to kick the bag, barely acknowledging Faith when she walked up. 

“Hey, B.” Faith said slowly. Buffy ignored her, tossing her hair to flip the hair that had escaped her ponytail of her face. “This is a fun, new look.”

“I’m not on the clock.” Buffy told her, taking a few hard swings at the bag. 

“Yeah, I know. Your morning class all said you nearly killed them." Faith narrowed her eyes, watching Buffy. 

“They signed up for an advanced class.” Buffy huffed, stepping back and starting to unwrap her hands. “They would have had more to complain about if I took it easy on them.”

“Never said they complained.” Faith followed Buffy to her water bottle. Buffy took a long drink before grabbing her towel, wiping the sweat from her face. 

“So, if you’re not here to talk shop, and nobody has made a complaint, why are you interrupting my workout?” Buffy snapped. This was her one outlet, and Faith’s interruption was annoying her. 

“Came to ask about the new ‘do.” Faith teased, reaching out to tug at one of Buffy’s pigtails, barely touching her shoulders after a very irrational decision the night after she’d slept with Angel. 

“Needed something new.” Buffy tossed the towel over her shoulder. “Can I go shower, or are you gonna follow me there, too?”

“Ooh, are you flirting with me?” Faith laughed, batting her eyelashes; Buffy glared. “Ugh, you’re no fun, B. You need to get laid.”

Buffy balled up her sweaty towel, hurling it after Faith’s retreating form, hitting her right on the mark. Faith barely reacted, but for a loud cackle. 

Faith had no way of knowing that the sweet, loving sex she’d been having for the past week with her attentive whatever Angel was - that still hadn’t talked - was what was causing the rage. It wasn’t that it was unsatisfactory, because it was very satisfying, but somehow, that only made her angrier. 

It was Angel and he was attentive and loving in the way she’d always dreamed of. He was taking the time to learn her body, making sure she was always having a good time and her needs were being met. He was perfect, and it made her impossibly angry for a reason she couldn’t put her finger on. 

She headed into the showers, only feeling slightly better once she was clean and dry. Buffy stared at her own reflection with a frown. She barely recognized herself. 

Her hair barely fell past her jaw - Tara had helped her clean it up after her rough hack job - and her eyes were tired. She could feel the exhaustion in her bones, and she just wanted a pair of warm arms to curl up in, but the thought of asking Angel to just hold her felt laughable. He would, but it would be awkward, and Buffy let out a breath, grabbing her hair brush. 

They really needed to have a talk. She glanced at the phone on the wall. She could head over a few hours early, even if he was working, she would be fine to wait. 

Mind made up, Buffy headed out to the parking lot, climbing into the jeep. She still wasn’t super great at it, but the drive to Angel’s place was a fairly straight line with very little traffic or pedestrians. 

Buffy planned what to say in her mind on the short drive. She wasn’t the same teenage girl that was willing to let him get away with whatever just because she loved him. If they were going to be in a relationship, they had to behave like the adults that they were, and be honest with each other. 

At sixteen, their four year age gap had seemed so much bigger, made her feel so adult and mature. Now, it felt miniscule, and she wanted him to know she wasn’t a doormat anymore. 

Buffy parked the jeep, making sure there was no chance of it rolling away, before walking up to his door and knocking. There were voices, but she assumed it might be a conference call - Angel tended to take those on speaker phone. 

The voices stopped, and she heard the distinct sound of his footsteps approaching; Buffy stood up straighter, squaring her shoulders as the door opened. Angel’s eyes went wide when he saw her, quickly shutting the door most of the way so she couldn’t see in. 

“Buffy.” He greeted. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I finished my workout early. Can I come in?” She asked, brow furrowed. 

“Uh,” Angel glanced back over his shoulder before looking at Buffy again. “Now’s not really the best time.”

“Angel, who is it?” A familiar voice called, and Buffy pushed Angel out of the way, aware enough to know it wasn’t a business associate. She froze when his ex girlfriend, Darla, who had accused Buffy of stealing Angel from her, sat on his couch. 

With a baby in her arms. 

Will took a slow breath, wondering when the jogging would get easier. It felt like his lungs were on fire, and he couldn’t understand how anyone who didn’t hate themselves did shit like run marathons. 

Will did, however, hate himself, and wondered if running a marathon might be something for him. 

A car door slamming made him look to the side, averting his gaze before doing a double take. Buffy was walking into the park, hair short, stomping away from a large green jeep. Will was close enough to see her eyes were red and puffy. His body started moving towards her before his mind could make any input. 

“Buffy?” He called out once he was close enough, and she spun, wiping at her face. 

“Sp - uh, I mean, Will.” She sniffled, looking to the side. “What are you doing here?”

“Out for a jog.” He was close enough now he could see the tear tracks down her cheeks, a few drops still clinging to her jaw. “You alright?”

“Yup. Just peachy.” Her voice was tight as she nodded her head. A screech of tires pulled up behind her Jeep on the road, and Buffy grumbled as a man got out. 

“Buffy,” the man started, and Buffy turned and continued walking into the park. The man - a solid few inches taller and more muscular than Will was himself - ignored Will to rush after Buffy. Seemed as though she had a type for men she would actually date, Will considered bitterly. He considered walking away, but found himself too invested now, as the man grabbed her shoulder, only for Buffy to shake him off. “Buffy, just hear me out-.”

“God, is this why you and Cordy broke up?” Buffy spun around, eyes wide and full of pain. Will considered leaving, but the man hesitated. “Oh my god, Angel. Seriously?”

“It wasn’t like we planned it!” The man - most definitely the Angel that Dawn had told him about - shouted. Well, if they were going to have an argument in public, people were bound to listen. 

“That doesn’t matter! Don’t you get how fucked this is?” Buffy ran her hands through the roots of her hair, shoulders bunched tight. 

“Buffy.” His voice was firm, and Buffy laughed, the sound bitter. 

“Angel, you have a child. You’ve been here, with me, for nearly a month, and you didn’t tell me!” Buffy yelled, and Will felt his eyebrows shoot up. “With Darla, of all people! God, what the fuck.” Her hands covered her eyes. 

Angel walked closer, hands going to her shoulders. Buffy shoved his hands off, pulling back and holding her hands out, shaking her head. She opened her mouth a few times, clearly trying to find the words. “Buffy, if you just let me explain-.”

“No! No, you could have - you should have told me!” She turned away from him. “Just go.”

“Buffy…” he started, and Buffy curled in on herself, shaking her head. 

Will watched, waiting for the big git to fight for her, to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Instead, the man sighed, turning and walking out of the park and back to his car. Buffy didn’t move, frozen in place until the car revved its engine, pulling away. 

Then she crumpled. Will rushed up to her, catching her just before she hit the pavement.  

“Hey, hey,” he kept his voice soft. Buffy turned to bury her face into his shirt. Will looked around, desperate for any help, but found the park empty. “C’mon, pet, let me take you home.”

“No!” Buffy shook her head, sobbing harder. “They told me - fuck - they told me not to give him another chance. God, they were right, fuck.”

She was clinging onto him, tears soaking his shirt. Will nodded. 

“Let me take you back to my flat then, yeah? Let you rest a bit.” He offered, holding his breath until she nodded her head, letting him stand them up. 

She handed him her keys as they approached the jeep, climbing into the passenger side and resting her head against the window. Will drove them to his home, taking in her different she looked. 

It wasn’t just the hair, but her body looked tense, eyes exhausted in a way he had only ever seen in the mirror after he’d lost his own mum. Her body looked frail, knuckles bruised. 

Once the jeep was parked beside his own car, Will hopped out, Buffy following him inside. He’d put everything back up that was Will’s, no longer trying to hide behind Spike if she wasn’t coming around. Her breath caught as she looked around while he shut the door and placed her keys alongside his own. 

“D’you, uh, want some water, maybe?” He asked, unsure of how to act around her. Buffy nodded, and he hastily escaped to the kitchen, glad for the moment. What the hell was he doing?

What the hell was she doing?

Buffy walked through the apartment - Will’s apartment. The walls were the same, as was the furniture, but instead of bare walls and shelves, books and pictures lined everything. Poetry and classic novels, photos of people, of places. Random trinkets and knickknacks that Buffy trailed her fingers along, stopping at a photo that was tucked into the book shelf. 

It was Will, but so different. He looked younger, not just physically, but his eyes seemed brighter, full of life. He looked like he was still a teenager, probably still in school, based on his cute little uniform. His hair was longer and darker, curling around his temples. A wire pair of glasses perched on his nose. It was a very official looking portrait, a woman who shared enough of a resemblance that she immediately knew the woman was his mother. 

Will cleared his throat, and Buffy jumped, caught snooping. He walked up beside her, handing her a glass of water as she put the frame back on the shelf. 

“She died right after I turned nineteen. A week before Christmas, actually.” He told her, and Buffy felt her heart drop. 

“Oh, I’m so-.”

“Met Dru on new years, plastered out of my mind.” Will continued on. “Uncle Ethan was already over here, so she was all I had. Dad passed when I was a boy, and it had always just been the two of us. Didn’t know who I was without her.”

He took a sip of his own water. Buffy waited for him to continue. 

“Couldn’t function on my own, and Dru knew that. Always knew how to lead me around, how to deal with me when I was down.” He let out a sad laugh. “Thought it was love. Now, I think it was an obsession.”

“Where is she now?” Buffy asked softly. Will shook his head. 

“Gone.” He shrugged, turning and going to sit on the couch. Buffy remained in her spot, reading over all the titles of the books - many weren’t even in English. “Buffy, I’m so sorry.”

“What?” She turned to face him, confused. 

“I pushed you too hard. If I had known-.”

“But you didn’t.” Buffy reminded him, moving to sit beside him. She placed her glass on the table next to his, smiling at the addition of the coasters, before looking back at Will. “You had no way of knowing.”

“I still shouldn’t have put it all on you like that. I knew you had something going on.” Will uncovered his face to meet her eyes. “And, Dru - she wasn’t supposed to show up at the funeral. It wasn’t planned.”

“I know.” Buffy nodded her head. “Sp-.” She caught herself. “Will, there’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“There’s a first.” Will chuckled dryly. Buffy frowned. 

“Dawnie told me that she trauma dumped on you.” Buffy said, earning a small smile. “She felt so bad for spilling all the family secrets.”

“Niblet’s a good kid.” He said, looking at the table. Buffy wiped at her cheeks, tears still drying on them. 

“She is.” Buffy paused. “You know you’re her favourite teacher she’s ever had?”

“S’because I’m the only one who doesn’t compare her to you.” He shrugged. 

“That would be creepy if you did.” Buffy pointed out, and he let out a soft laugh. “I’d have to call the police.”

“Lucky, I prefer blondes.” Will looked up at her, and she blushed. “Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t - forget I said anything.”

“It’s alright.” Buffy looked down at her hands, shaking her head, short hair falling from where she’d tucked it behind her ears. “I’d been going to his place to end things before I even saw Darla and the kid.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Buffy groaned, propping her elbows on her knees and dropping her face into her hands. “We weren’t working out. I think he still wanted me to be the same girl I was when I was sixteen, and I was holding the man he was back then against him.”

She pushed her hair back again, locking her fingers behind her neck. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. 

“I didn’t mean it.” She said, Will paused. 

“Didn’t mean what?” He asked. Buffy sighed. 

“Any of it.” Buffy stared at her glass, watching a bead of condensation as it slid towards the coaster. “That you were just a convenient fuck. That you were beneath me.”

“Buffy-.”

“You’re so much better than me.” She continued, tears springing to her eyes again. “But you don’t - you didn’t love me, I wasn’t lying about that.”

“Don’t think that’s up to you, pet.” He told her, and Buffy shook her head, seeing him shift from the corner of her eye. 

“People don’t love Buffy.” She told him honestly. “People think they love Buffy, and then they get to know Buffy. And then they realize that they don’t love Buffy.”

“Hey,” he leaned in close, hand cupping her cheek. Buffy let him turn her face towards him, running a thumb beneath her eye. 

“It’s alright.” She told him, forcing a smile. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and his thumb caught it. Will opened his mouth to talk, and she jumped up to her feet, suddenly feeling too exposed. “I should go home. God, I’m so sorry. This was so weird of me.”

“Buffy.” He said her name softly, and she ignored him. 

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just been a bad couple months for me, I didn’t mean to impose.” She kept going, stopping with a squeak when his hands caught her, spinning her around. Her mouth opened to continue, but his hand was in her hair and his lips were on hers and the world melted away as she melted into the kiss. 

The world was silent, for the first time since her mom had died. There was no buzz of voices in the back of her mind, no urgency to get something done before it was too late. 

There was just Will; just Will, and her, and their lips, sharing a slow, gentle kiss. 

When he broke it, Buffy kept her eyes closed, afraid to break the moment. She was so afraid that everything was going to come crashing down around her. 

Will kissed her again, deeper this time, and Buffy pushed up on her toes, needing him closer. Her hands found his hair, breathing him in when he broke the kiss again. They both remained still, breath warm against one another’s lips. 

“Buffy,” his voice was low and warm, and Buffy tensed, ready for him to pull the rug out. “Hey, look at me.”

Buffy opened her eyes, vision watery as she met his clear blue gaze. Her heart hammered against her chest, and he gazed at her so softly she was afraid she would start crying again. 

“I’m staying.” Will told her earnestly. His hands were warm as they cupped her jaw. “Don’t care what I learn, love, I’m staying.”

“That’s not true.” Buffy said. “Once you-.”

“Don’t care.” He cut her off firmly. Buffy swallowed. 

“I have anger issues.” She told him. “My own dad hates me, he told me when I was sixteen. I have a really weird sister who I think might have a crush on you, and a super overprotective godfather. My best friend is a lesbian and her girlfriend is the nicest person I’ve ever met. Xander used to have a crush on me and hates every guy I try to date.”

“I used to do drugs I didn’t know the names of.” Will countered as tears spilled from her eyes. “I let an abusive bitch dictate every move I made for seven years, and stopped talking to all my friends. Had to make new ones after the breakup, and they barely know me.”

“I’m not a very good driver. Like, really bad.” Buffy added. “I burned down the gym at my school in LA, and your boss thinks I’m the actual antichrist.”

“I pretend to be a bad boy in a leather jacket named Spike because I’m so embarrassed by who I am.” Will grinned. Buffy furrowed her brow. “I win, and guess what? Still love you.”

“You don’t really know me, though.” She held onto his wrists, afraid if he let go he would vanish. Will pressed his forehead against her own. 

“Can’t wait to get to know you then, if you’ll let me.”

“Are you sure?” She asked. “What if you don’t like me once you get to know me?”

“You know what my mates used to call me?” He chuckled. “Love’s bitch.”

“That doesn’t sound nice.”

“Means it takes a whole lot more than the likes of you to knock me out of love.” He kissed her gently. “But you can try your best.”

Chapter Text

Buffy adjusted the forks, then frowned and switched them back. She couldn’t remember if the big one was supposed to go on the outside or the inside. 

“She must really like this guy.” Willow whispered too loudly, clearly intending for Buffy to hear it. 

“I think it’s sweet.” Tara loudly whispered back. Buffy ignored them. 

It had been a month since she had ended things with Angel, and she was finally going to introduce Will to her friends as her boyfriend. She felt ready to puke with nerves. She needed them to like him. 

She had told Dawn three days prior, when Will had finally asked her to make it official - it had felt so high school, and she was giddy thinking about it. 

“I just don’t want to have to call him dad.” Dawn said, smirking as she walked into the dining room with the vase of flowers. Buffy rolled her eyes; she hadn’t wanted to spring it on Dawn too suddenly, afraid she might react negatively, but the younger girl had hugged her and animatedly started asking her a million questions about the man. 

“How did you two meet again?” Xander asked, and Anya shook her head at his disapproving tone. Anya knew, Buffy was certain, but hadn’t said a word. 

“When I worked at the Bronze.”

“So why did you get back together with the great forehead?” He asked, and Buffy groaned. 

“Just be glad he’s gone.” Giles said, walking in. “What time did you say he’d be here, Buffy?”

The doorbell rang. 

“Don’t -.” Buffy waved her hand vaguely at that. “Don’t scare him off! Be nice!”

“I’m always nice!” Xander argued, followed by a few thumps and a pained groan. Buffy stopped at the door, smoothing down her dress, taking a deep breath, and opened the door. 

Will grinned shyly, bleached hair slicked back, wearing a dark blue shirt that made her momentarily forget her family and friends were waiting to meet him. 

“Love?” He asked, and she looked up at his smirking face, flushing, knowing she’d been caught staring. 

“Come on.” She grabbed his hand. “And remember that you love me.”

Will squeezed her hand, and followed her into the living room where everyone had migrated. Giles’ eyebrows shot up, and everyone but Dawn froze. 

“Hi, Mr Pratt. Do I still have to call you and Pratt if you’re dating my sister?” She asked loudly in the quiet room. Will chuckled, releasing Buffy’s hand to slide closer, wrapping his arm around her waist while Buffy waited for anyone else to speak. 

“Only at school, niblet. You can call me Will anywhere else.”

“Will.” Dawn tested the name out, grinning. “Cool. Janice isn’t gonna believe this.”

“Everyone, this is Will.” Buffy said, looking around. “My boyfriend.”

“Oh, yes.” Giles blinked out of his stupor, moving towards them, shaking his hand. “If everything your uncle has told me is true-.”

“He’s full of shit.” Will offered, and Giles grinned, nodding his head. Buffy let out a breath, leaning against Will, hand on his chest. Jenny walked up, and Buffy caught Willow’s eye across the room, blushing when her friend gave her a very unsubtle thumbs up. 

After everyone had spoke to Will a bit, the group moved to the dining room. 

“Will.” Anya said thoughtfully as she sat down. “Suits you much better than Spike, I think.”

“Spike?” Dawn asked, eyes lighting up. 

“No - nope.” He shook his head, cheeks turning pink. Buffy giggled. 

“Who’s Spike?” Dawn pressed. 

“No one.” Will lied. 

“Anya?” Willow asked. 

“Spike is his bad boy rockstar persona.” Anya supplied, very matter of fact. “He never actually introduced himself to me, but he and Buffy used to sneak off and I heard her screaming it enough times to put two and two together.”

“Oh my god.” Buffy covered her eyes as Giles dropped his fork and Dawn let out a noise of disgust. 

“What?” Anya looked around at everyone’s shocked faces. “I thought you’d be happy that Buffy was getting orgasms! Lord knows when she was with Angel-.”

“Anya!” Xander cut her off as Will covered his laughter up with a cough. “Maybe not a dinner conversation topic with Dawn and Giles here.”

“But I can talk to Jenny about Buffy’s orgasms?” She clarified, and Willow snorted out a laugh, covering her mouth until she couldn’t hold it back anymore, and soon enough everyone was laughing. Anya looked around the table, confused, and Buffy leaned towards her boyfriend, his hand on her back. 

“I think it’s going well.” He whispered, and Buffy shook her head, smiling as she felt him kiss the top of her head. 

“Of course you do.” She laughed lightly. 

After dinner, Buffy left Will in the living room to fend for himself as she dealt with the dishes. 

“I approve.” Giles told her, drying the dishes as she washed. 

“Yeah?” Buffy asked, heart in her throat. She looked over, and Giles was studying the plate as he dried it. 

“Seems like he has a good head on his shoulders.” He paused. “And you seem happy.”

“I am.” Buffy agreed, unable to stop smiling as she turned her attention back to the dishes. 

“Rupert, darling,” Jenny came into the room. “What time are the movers coming in the morning?”

“I thought they weren’t coming until Thursday?” Giles put down the plate, turning to his wife. It had been agreed that they would take over Joyce’s room, at least until Dawn graduated high school and went off the university. 

“I just got a call, they said you said Tuesday.”

“Bloody hell, is everything packed?” He asked, and Buffy laughed. 

“Go home, we’re fine here.” She told him, nodding him off. Jenny gave her a gentle squeeze, and Buffy heard them make their goodbyes, before Willow and Xander came in to clean up. 

“Xander, you wash.” Buffy told him, shaking off her hands. “My fingers are getting gross and wrinkly.”

“Why me?” He complained. 

“Because your girlfriend decided to bring up my sex life in front of Giles.” Buffy reminded him, and he sighed in resignation, moving to the sink. 

“I’m glad to know you’re getting lots of orgasms, though.” Willow teased, and Xander groaned as Buffy blushed. “How long have you two been-?”

“A while.” Buffy handed Willow a dried plate. 

“What about the funeral? And Angel?” Xander asked, and Buffy frowned. Since when was he so perceptive?

“We met when I was working at the Bronze, right after my birthday. When Riley came back to town right after Valentine’s Day, he pretended to be my boyfriend and we kind of started to sleep together.”

“I told you!” Willow gasped, hitting Xander. 

“You knew?” Buffy gasped. 

“Well, not really.” Willow frowned. “But I knew something was up! You were all smiley.”

“So, what happened at the funeral?”

“I kind of ended things when I moved back here.” Buffy shrugged, picking up a bowl to dry. “There was a big fight. His ex came back, my ex came back, lots of drama, we ran into each other when I was breaking up with Angel and, well.”

“Well…?” Willow pressed. 

“We went back to his place, talked a bunch, revealed our tragic back stories to each other, and here we are.” She explained quickly. “We didn’t do a lot of talking before.”

Willow snorted. Buffy hip checked her. 

“Shut up.”

“I can’t believe you had sex at work!” Xander shook his head, and Dawn laughed loudly from the other room. Buffy blushed. 

“Good sex can be great stress relief.” Willow pointed out, tone teasing.  

“Okay, Anya two point oh.” Buffy huffed. Willow smiled. 

“I’m happy you’re happy, though.” Willow said, grin softening. 

“Yeah, he doesn’t seem like the complete worst.” Xander shrugged. Willow gave Buffy a loot, eyebrows high. Xander's approval was a big deal. 

“I think this is good for now,” Buffy tossed her drying cloth to the counter. “Let’s go save our dates from the wrath of my little sister.”

Buffy shut her bedroom door softly. Dawn was out cold in her room, and her friends had gone home. She let out a breath, the stress she’d been plagued with for the past week finally dissipating. 

“Do they hate me?” Will asked, and Buffy turned to find him on her bed, Mr Gordo propped on his chest. 

“Oh, obviously.” Buffy couldn’t help but smile at him, looking so at home amongst her belongings. “Come help me unzip my dress - be gentle with Mr Gordo.”

“Mr Gordo?” Will teased as he placed the stuffed pig down, standing up to come up behind her, dragging the zipper down. He kissed the back of her neck, right at the top of her spine. 

“Says the guy with the emotional attachment to a jacket from the eighties.” She laughed gently as his hands slid beneath the dress, wrapping around her stomach. “Hey, stop that. My sister-.”

“Guess you’ll have to stay quiet then, huh?” He nipped at her skin, hands sliding up to her chest. Buffy let her head drop back to his shoulder, knowing she had no real argument. She always wanted him. 

“You mean you’ll have to stay quiet.” She breathed as he pinched her nipple through the thin lace of her bra. 

Twenty minutes later, and Buffy was eating her words, biting down on her pillow as Will drove into from behind, hands holding her hips, pulling her back with each thrust of his hips. 

“Christ, I love you.” He panted, using his thumbs to part her ass, and she could feel his stare, watching where they were connected. She whined, wanting to cry out. He laughed. 

Will wasn’t being gentle, fucking her hard and fast. Buffy was dripping down her legs, and she arched her back, listening to his low groan. 

“Take me so good, kitten. Could fuck you all day, and I’d still want you more.” Will kept going, and Buffy nodded. And unclenched her jaw from her pillow. 

“Harder.” She gasped, and he complied, nearly knocking her forwards with his next thrust, and the moan slipped past her lips before she could stop it. His chest connected with her back, one of his hands covering her mouth. 

“Gotta stay quiet, can’t wake the niblet.” Will whispered softly into her ear. Buffy’s eyes rolled back at the change of angle, nodding her head. Anything to get him to move again. 

“Fuck me.” She spoke into his palm, pushing her ass back against her; he hissed, pulling back up to his full night, starting back at a brutal pace. Buffy buried her face into her pillow, noises falling past her lips with every stroke of his hips, muffled by the pillow. 

“Close?” Will asked after a long few moments where the only sound was the slap of their sweaty skin. Buffy nodded into the pillow. “Can you come like this? Just from my cock?”

Buffy shook her head, clenching around him at the idea. 

“Think you can.” He punctuated his word with a particularly hard thrust. “Think you come just like this, with me fucking you, knowing all your friends like me.”

Buffy whined, the man behind her knowing her too well. She’d never dated anyone that everyone had liked so quickly. 

“Need you to come, kitten. Need to feel you come, need to fill you up.”

Buffy nodded, so close, so close, she just needed a little push. One of his hands slid up her spine, pressing against the base of her skull, forcing her face into the pillow, angling her mouth off the pillow so she could suck in a breath of fresh air, and she came. She bit down on her lip, tasting her own blood as she struggled to remain silent. 

Will cursed, trying to maintain his rhythm until she was done, only the hand still on her hip holding her up. He lost his pace, fucking her wildly until he was filling her up with a low groan. 

He pulled out, letting her fall to the bed as he dropped beside her. Will slipped his fingers between her legs, pushing his release back into her pussy, feeling it flutter around his fingers. 

“Will,” she leaned in, happily humming when he met her mouth in a kiss. Her lips wobbled against his, and he smiled. 

“I love you.” He reminded her, and her chest warmed. She kissed him again, feeling a new feeling starting to bloom in her own chest.