Blue Eyed Devil
Pattyanne 's Fic
Kings of Mercia
LoobyLoos' Fic
Jen's Fic

Part twenty-four....

Buffy was far more relaxed on the ride back to Union Jack's. The combination of the moonlight,
the warmth of the air, and the pleasant memories of their encounter under the pine tree, was making her positively mellow.

Until Spike pulled the motorcycle into the back parking lot and she saw what was waiting there.

The truck that had been there when they'd left was long gone. In it's place was another, half again as long. It was painted a gleaming ebony, and there was a beautiful painting on the side; a deep green aura, with a pair of very recognizable blue eyes and slanting dark brows in the center of it. Beneath this work of art someone had painted the name of the band in the same emerald green.

Buffy knew without being told, that this was the truck that would soon be packed up with all the paraphernalia necessary for a rock and roll band to take on a nationwide tour.

Although she hated to even look at it, she pasted a smile on her face as Devlin pulled up next to the truck and killed the engine.

"Wow. Fancy," she said, trying to sound as though she absolutely loved it.

Spike sighed impatiently. "I told them not to do that," he said, indicating the picture. "I just wanted a plain truck...something to get us where we're going. gonna attract a lot of unwanted attention."

"Well," Buffy said consolingly, "that's what you get for having such beautiful blue eyes."

He examined the representation more closely. "It looks like I'm wearing make up," he complained, lowering the bike's kick stand and climbing off. Standing in front of the truck, his
hands on his hips, he frowned. "This was our manager's idea," he said, shaking his head. "God only knows what he'll have on the side of the bus."

"The bus?" Buffy asked, standing beside him with her hands clasped in front of her.

"Yeah," he said absently, walking around the truck to examine the matching picture on the opposite side. "This is just for the equipment. The bus is for us to travel on. Kind of a hotel on wheels, so I'm told."

That particular description gave Buffy an unpleasant association. Hotels...motels...sleeping arrangements...all the girls that would be throwing themselves at the band...

She couldn't stand looking at it for another second.

"'s awfully late," she said, glancing at her watch. "I should be getting on home."

Devlin turned around and regarded her with a boyish smile. "Can I come, too?"

A rush of love washed through her, and she smiled back at him. "If you want to."

He laughed and rolled his eyes. "If I want to...she says." Slipping his arms around her, he walked her backwards to where her car was parked. "Yes, Miss Buffy. I want to. Besides," he added, with just a touch of self satisfaction, "I'm your boyfriend, remember?"

"That's right," she said, snapping her fingers. "It must have slipped my mind."

"Oh, really?" He pushed her up against the driver's side door of her car, plastering his body against hers. "Well, I guess I'm just gonna have to refresh your memory then." Ducking his head, he kissed her, long and hard. "You get started, babe. I'll be right behind you."


Spike watched the tail lights of Buffy's car disappear. Turning to go into the rear door of the club, the equipment truck caught his attention again, and a wave of dislike rose up in him.

There was no real reason for him to feel that way. Even though he'd voted to keep the truck without ornamentation, it wasn't half as gaudy as some he'd seen. And all that really mattered was that it was large enough to carry their gear.

He had seen the expression on Buffy's face before she'd managed to cover it with a smile, and knew what had caused it. The deadline for their leaving was now only four short days away, and this truck was a big, fat loud reminder of that unpleasant fact.

Devlin sighed and headed in the back door of Union Jack's, wondering when everything had become so bloody complicated.

In the space of just a few days, he'd found the girl he wanted to make a future with. She was beautiful, smart, and fantastically sexy, and although she had been a virgin, she made love like an absolute angel.

Now, instead of settling in and making serious plans for their future, he had to get on a bus that would carry him hundreds of miles away from her.

For the first time since the whole thing had been proposed, the tour he had looked forward to with such excitement didn't sound at all appealing.


He was surprised to see that Andy, Oz and Xander were still inside. They were kicking back at one of the tables, drinking beer and discussing some new arrangements of their songs.

"Hey!" Xander said loudly. "Boss man is back. Where's your little cutie?"

Devlin folded his arms across his chest and grinned.

"She's gone on home," he said casually. "I'm gonna join her there later."

"Sorry about the fucking truck," Andy said. "I told 'em to leave off the black eye liner. Said you prefer a nice soft shade of brown, but they don't fucking listen."

Xander giggled like a hyena. Oz said nothing, although his lip curved in a small smile.

"Funny," Spike said. Pulling up a chair and turning it around, he straddled the seat, then glanced at Xander, although he addressed his question to all of them. "So...what do you think of Buffy?"

"Nice," Oz said briefly.

"Oh, yeah," Andy agreed. "A fucking doll."

"I like her," Xander chimed in. "She's great."

Zeroing his gaze in on him, Spike asked, "You don't think she's a bit...prim and proper?"

"Buffy?" Xander glanced at him, then stared at his hands. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, you know," Spike said, shrugging, "her skirt is a little long...she doesn't wear a lot of make up...her hair's always pinned up."

Xander sighed. "Okay, what were you doing? Eavesdropping or something?"

"Not exactly."

"Look...I like her," Xander said emphatically. "I really do. She's just not the type you usually go for, is all."

Spike stood up and pushed the chair away. "Don't look so nervous," he told his friend. "I'm not gonna hit you. Just be careful what you say in the future. You never know who might overhear you."

He pulled his car keys out of his jacket and headed for the door. Before leaving, he turned back and smiled, looking like a highly satisfied man.

"Just so you know," he said. "I don't care if she pins her hair up tight during the day...cause I'm the guy who gets to take it down at night."

On his way out the door, he heard Andy.

"You've got the biggest fucking mouth in the universe, Harris."


Buffy was sitting in front of her vanity when the doorbell rang.

She'd scrubbed her face clean of all the extra make up and was now brushing her hair until it was smooth, trying hard to keep away the gloomy thoughts.

Four days to go. And she wasn't even sure how much she'd see of him during those four days. She had to work, and he surely must have last minute arrangements and plans to set in place. Plus, there'd be rehearsals and maybe even social obligations to be met.

Four short days.

And what would she do then....?

Part twenty-five....

Buffy flung the door open. Without waiting for a greeting, she took hold of Spike's jacket and yanked him inside the house, then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard.

"Good lord," he gasped, breaking away to breathe. "I've never had such a nice 'hello' before."

She smiled and licked her lips. "You taste like sugar," she reported.

Giving her a slightly embarrassed look, he showed her what he had in his hand. "I drove by it and I couldn't  stop myself from going in," he said, displaying a bag from the local Krispy Kreme. "Have you ever had these?" he asked, opening the bag and holding it out for her to examine the contents. "They're bloody brilliant. Just going inside the shop is a sugar rush."

Buffy shook her head. He had been right when he'd told her that he was worse than any child when it came to
sweets. Still, there were worse things....

"And you just had to eat one?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"Well...yeah." He handed her the bag and discarded his jacket. "They put one in your hand the second you walk in the door, know me."

Buffy peeked into the bag and counted ten glazed donuts, still warm and soft. "Uh-huh. So, you bought ten of them?" she asked skeptically.

He pretended to look shocked. "They only gave me ten? I should go right back there and demand the other two. Wait here and I'll..."

She snagged his arm as he turned away, pulling him into the front room. "Oh, no you don't," she said firmly. "I may never see you again."

God...three of those sugar bombs! He'd be climbing the walls! Unless she could distract him.

Sinking down on the couch, she gave him the most seductive smile she could come up with. "They smell good.
Maybe I should dab some of the sugar behind my ears for you."

Devlin knelt on the couch beside her, then dropped forward onto his hands, holding his weight off of her. "Believe me, luv, you don't need sugar to attract me. I'm already completely...attracted." He lowered his head and kissed the side of her throat.

Buffy tilted her head back, shivering as his lips moved down her neck. She reached into the open bag and extracted one of the donuts. A little more sugar wasn't going to faze him in the slightest.

She wiped her finger over the surface of the pastry...coating it with the warm, melted glaze...then held it up to his lips.

Devlin grinned and started to take her finger into his mouth, but she suddenly pulled it away and used it to dab the base of her throat with the sticky glob of sugar.

His eyes widened briefly, and he immediately ducked his head to lick up the sweetness from her skin. "Mmmm," he moaned softly. "Even better now."

Bringing one hand up between them, he unbuttoned her blouse, then took the donut out of her hand and smeared glaze on the plump upper curves of her breasts. Tossing the mashed donut onto the coffee table, he began applying his tongue to her skin, cleaning every inch of exposed skin.

"Undo your bra," he whispered, grinning lecherously as she obeyed. He fished around in the bag for another donut, and extracted a chocolate glazed one, rubbing the gooey chocolate onto each of her nipples.

Buffy inhaled sharply at the sensation, then released the breath she'd taken when she felt the warm wash of his tongue swirling around and around her nipples, making them hard and sensitive.

" taste so good," he murmured against her skin. "And I love you so much."

She smiled, twining her fingers into his curls. "I love you, too."

He skimmed the sleeves of her shirt down her arms, letting her sit up a bit to pull it off. Her bra quickly followed, landing on the floor next to her top. Moving down her body, he nudged her legs apart, then looked up at her. "Guess what else I have in the bag?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows suggestively.

"More donuts?"

His right hand dipped into the sack and came back out holding a fat donut. "Jelly filled," he informed her, wrapping his fingers around the treat and beginning to squeeze.

"Hey!" Buffy squealed. "Where exactly are you planning on putting that gunk?"

He chuckled wickedly. "Between your luscious thighs, darling. But don't worry....I plan to lick it all off. By the time I get finished using my tongue on you, you won't be able to move for a...what did you say?"

"I said...this is a brand new couch."

He moved her panties to one side. "I promise not to spill a drop...of anything."


They ended up on the floor.

After cleaning her as thoroughly as he'd promised, and bringing her to a toe curling climax, he rolled off the
couch, taking her with him and pushing the coffee table a few feet away.

She tried to hold on to him, but he slipped away and rose to his feet to undress. Naked, he strode across the
room and twisted the knobs on the gas fireplace until he had a warm and romantic blaze going. He placed her throw pillows on the carpet, then picked her up and deposited her in the middle of the small nest he'd built before the fire.

Buffy stretched out one arm, wanting him to take her hand. When he did, she tugged him until he was lying beside her, then rolled on top of him and settled herself comfortably.

With her cheek pressed against his chest, she sighed happily, staring at the fire as he rubbed his hands up and down her back.

"It's starting to rain," she said softly. "Can you hear it?"

"'s one of my favorite sounds."

"Mine, too." She looked at him, folding her arms across his chest and resting her chin on them. "What else are your favorite sounds?"

He laughed. "What a leading question."

"Yeah, so tell me."

Continuing to stroke her back, he took a deep breath in and out. "Wind chimes. My grandmother had about a dozen of them hanging on her back porch. I pretty much grew up there, and I remember hearing those chimes when I was outside playing."

Buffy closed her eyes, picturing that little boy in her mind, seeing him pushing a collection of toy car and trucks around a garden, looking up every now and then to watch the wind chimes dance in a light breeze.

"Good music, of course," he went on. "Applause when someone enjoys our show. The kids at your school, when I played for them...that was great. Listening to them sing along and clap their hands."

She smiled at the memory. "They really liked you. You're all they talked about for the rest of the day."

"Yeah?" He sounded pleased. "Think they'd like a repeat performance?"

Surprised, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Can you do that? I mean, will you have the time before you..."

Unable to make herself finish the sentence, she just left it hanging.

Devlin thought for a moment, mentally calculating everything he still had to do before Thursday. "I can try. Don't promise them anything, but I'll definitely try."

Pleased as she was to hear this, Buffy wanted to change the subject so as not to veer off into unhappy thoughts of his departure. "What other sounds do you like?"

He held her arms and pulled her up until they were face to face. "Your heart beating...those breathy little gasps when I'm making love to you, right before you come."

Her cheeks turned pink, and she hid her face against the side of his neck.

"Miss Buffy? Are you blushing?" He sounded delighted at the idea.

"No," was her muffled reply.

"I don't believe you," he chided. "Let me see."


"Come on."

"You really have a problem with that word, don't you?"

Forcing her face up, he grinned unrepentantly. "Only when it gets in the way of something I want."

"There, see!" she said, looking right at him. "I told you I'm not."

He cupped her face in his hands, stroking with his thumbs. "Your cheeks are awfully warm."

"We're three feet from the fire."

"Yeah...that MUST be it."


"Now, you tell me some of YOUR favorite sounds."

She scarcely needed to stop and think. "Well, there's this guy I know..."


"Plays the guitar and sings."

"He any good?"

Buffy smiled slowly. "He's pretty darn good," she said, leaving the comment open to interpretation.

Devlin shrugged. "Bet he's not as good as me."

"He's also a little conceited."

"I am not," he countered, pinching her rear. "Take that back!"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll have to get rough with you."

Buffy tilted her head to one side. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

Taking a firmer grip on her arms, he rolled her onto her back and lay on top of her. "Is that a dare?" he asked,
grinding his erection against her mound.

She had no wit to reply. All she could do was lie very still as he began licking her breasts again.

"You still taste sweet," he moaned, moistening her skin. His tongue circled each taut nipple before he took one into his mouth and sucked it roughly, nipping with his teeth, holding her down so that she couldn't move.

As he pulled her other breast into his mouth and gave it the same attention, she whimpered in her throat and
arched her back for him.

"Spike...." She was panting.

"Yes, baby...that's right," he said. "Say my name. Don't ever stop."

"I....I won't if...if you won't."

What with her having been a virgin, Devlin was amazed at what a sensuous little thing she was turning out to be. All the untapped passion that had been building up in her for years was finally being set free, and he was the lucky son-of-a-bitch that had turned the key.

"I won't," he promised her. "I'll suck you and suck you until you can't take it anymore."

Between the fire in the hearth, and the one burning beneath her skin, her body glowed with a light sheen of perspiration, as though she'd been lightly coated with glitter.

Rolling his tongue around her erect nipples, he was driving her slowly mad. He alternated pressure, sometimes soft and sweet, and sometimes hard enough to leave a bruise.

Buffy sank her nails into his shoulders, encouraging him to take what he wanted.

Devlin hardly needed encouragement. The taste and feel of her breast in his mouth inspired him, and rational
thought was dwindling fast, leaving nothing but a primal urge that he couldn't hold back.

Switching to her other breast, he cupped his hand beneath it and lifted it to his mouth, molding the soft flesh with his fingers.

Buffy's thighs clamped around him, and she raised her hips to grind against his hard shaft. Her cries were
becoming more and more ragged as he lapped at her breasts.

"I...I need," she gasped. "Oh, I....I want..."

"Tell me."

" touch me. Please...touch me..."

Spike slipped his hand down between her legs, rubbing his fingers in her wetness. "Like this?"

"Yes." She sank her fingers into his hair, yanking him roughly back to her breast, forcing him to suck harder. Her body vibrated like a tuning fork, while her nerves were stretched to their utmost limits.

"More," she begged shamelessly, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

He returned his hand to her breast, fondling it and pinching her nipple. When he pulled on it, she felt contractions in her womb.

Devlin brought his thigh up and settled it between hers to give her the pressure and friction she needed.

Catching her nipple in his mouth again, he suckled it and shook his head a little.

With her sex swollen and in need of release, she rubbed it against his leg as hard as she could, then let out a sharp cry and rode out the waves of pleasure.

Spike released her breast from his mouth and pulled back. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "Did you come?"

She still couldn't speak, so she just nodded.

"That's the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He buried his face between her breasts, kissing and nuzzling them as she came down from out of the clouds.

"You never stop surprising me, Miss Buffy."

Or herself, apparently.



Part twenty-six.....
"Let's go upstairs," he murmured, stroking her hair back from her face. "I want to take you to bed."
Buffy kept her expression hidden. " that you mention it, I'm a little sleepy."
Spike was silent for a long moment, then eased her off of him. Arranging her on her stomach, he draped his
upper body over hers, leaning down until she felt his warm breath stirring tendrils of her hair.
"Whisper to me softly, breathe words upon my skin," he sang to her, his voice a sexy growl in her ear.
"No one's near and listening, so please don't say goodbye.

Just hold me close and love me, press your lips to mine."

His tongue darted out and caressed her earlobe. Taking her hand, he stretched her arm straight out at her side, then slid his own hand back up to her shoulder.
"Mmmm...mmmm...feels so right...feels so right.."
Buffy allowed her eyes to drift shut, concentrating on the sound of his voice and the feel of his hand.
"Lying here beside you, I hear the echoes of your sighs.
Promise me you'll stay with me and keep me warm tonight.."
Devlin brushed her hair off the back of her neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin he uncovered.
"So hold me close and love me, give my heart your smile
Mmmm...mmmm...feels so right...feels so right."
Slowly, his lips trailed down her spine, his tongue just barely touching her.  She parted her lips as her breathing began to speed up.
"Your body feels so gentle, and my passion's rising high.."
His mouth lingered in the small of her back, while his fingers lightly traced the path his lips had taken.


"You're loving me so easy, your wish is my command.."
Buffy was melting beneath his tender touch. A soft whimper escaped her throat and she felt him smile against her skin.
Moving back up, his hand slid down her arm again, his fingers lacing with hers.
"Just hold me close and love me, tell me it won't end.."
How had she managed to go all her life without this man? she wondered hazily. Turning her onto her back, he gazed down at her, his eyes stormy and dark with passion.
"Mmmm...mmmm...feels so right.."
He placed one finger beneath her chin and tilted her face, leaning his head down to meet her lips with his.
"Still feeling sleepy, luv?" he asked, tangling his fingers in her hair.
Sleep?  What was that?  Who needed sleep?
Buffy answered him by twining her arms around his neck.
"Some other time, maybe."
Lying on her bed, their bodies moved together rhythmically.
Devlin had her breast in his mouth, sucking on it until she whined and squirmed.  One hand slid up her back and lifted her upper body clear off the mattress.
When he pulled away, he brought his hand around and took her breast in his hand, examining the hard, rose colored nipple for a long moment before his tongue darted out and tickled it.
Buffy's body arched forward, not wanting to lose contact with that talented tongue.  Back and forth, around and around, he licked and nibbled the taut peak.
Wondering when she'd turned into such a raging nymphomaniac, she parted her legs, allowing him to
lie in the V of her  widespread thighs.  Devlin released her breast with an audible 'pop', and rubbed his abdomen against her sex.
"You're kind of wet," he observed, grinning fiendishly.
"Very."  She smiled back at him. "I'm not dreaming this, am I?"
"What?" he laughed. "What makes you ask that?"
Buffy tried to concentrate, but he wasn't exactly making it easy. "Well...the day you came to the school...the
first time...I had this dream."
"Tell me," he entreated her, his eyes dancing with amusement.
She tried.  "I dreamed that you came back, and I was alone in my classroom...and we had sex on my desk."
"Shit!  That sounds fantastic. Let's go and do that right now."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "As if I would."
"Oh, come on," he begged. "I promise not to mess up your neat little piles of paper, Miss Buffy."
"Some other time."
"All right, then. Let's fuck."
He sat up and braced himself against the head board, pulling her onto his lap.
"Lean back on one hand," he instructed her. "Now, take hold of my dick."  He held on to her hips, guiding her. "Lift a little...that's, just...slide right down on it...that's the way...feel good?"
"Good" was a hilarious understatement. Placing her other hand behind her for leverage, she moved up and down on his hard pole.
"Faster, baby," he encouraged her.
Buffy looked down between them, watching in total fascination as his penis disappeared inside of her, reappearing an instant later. "Oh, god," she moaned.
"Like the way that looks?"
"Yeah-huh," she replied, unable to take her eyes off their joined flesh.
"Me, too."  He shuddered slightly, slipping his hands beneath her bottom to help her bounce. "Come on, darling...lift and fuck...ride me hard...take what you want."
"I want...I want you..." she stammered.
"I want you, too."  Gripping her ass firmly, he held her still and began pounding up into her. "Gonna make you
come...come hard...yeah...oh, fuck yes..."
", too?"
"Oh, Christ...yes. Want to come with you...come in your sweet little pussy..."  His fingers clutched her hard enough to leave bruises, as his hips pistoned upwards.
Buffy was about to go over the edge. She could feel herself tightening around his invading shaft, bathing it
in her warm fluids.  "Spike...I'm...I'm..."
"You what?" he demanded. "What are you about to do? Tell me...say it!"
No longer shy about the words, she clenched her fists in the bedding and almost screamed, "I'm coming! I am...oh,!...oh!...."
When he felt the contractions of her pussy, he suddenly lunged forward until she was underneath him.  Sliding his arm beneath one knee, he lifted her leg and rammed into her over and over and over.
"Yes!  Fuck, yes!" he said through clenched teeth. He delivered his final thrust, grinding himself into her with an utter lack of finesse...just needing to do it...needing to come...come inside of her...fill her  up with his love...with his seed...spill it into her as far as he could send it...soaking her in it...huge spurts of cream and oh, yeah...there it her...all of it...every...last drop..."BUFFY!"
She could feel his body go rigid...and then relax, collapsing on top of her.
With his face buried against the side of her neck, he panted and groaned, thrusting weakly a few more times.
Buffy wrapped her arms and legs around him, petting and stroking him until he was calm in her embrace.
"God, I love you," he whispered in her ear. "I'll always love you...just you....just you..."
"I know."  She sighed and smiled. "Can you hear the rain?"
Part twenty-seven.....
The telephone woke them at 11:30 Sunday morning.


It was still raining, and the room was dark even through her sheer white curtains. Every so often, there was a flash of lightning, followed by a boom of thunder.
Buffy's hand reached over Devlin's chest, groping around for the phone on her night table. "H'lo," she said sleepily.
"Buffy, hi!  How have you been?"
The voice was familiar, but it took her a moment to put a face to it.
"Fine," she said softly, sitting up and turning her back on the man sleeping beside her. "How about you...Really?...I didn't know that...That's great...Congratulations....Pretty soon you'll be running that bank...I know you have...What?...Oh, I don't know...When?...I...I don't think I can, Riley...I already have plans for today...Tonight, too...."
Technically, Spike hadn't mentioned any particular plans, but wasn't it part of the boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic to assume such things on a weekend?
She put Riley off as well as she could, promising to talk to him later in the week. As she replaced the handset, a strong arm slid around her waist and hauled her back the foot and a half she'd scooted away.
Molding his naked body securely around hers, Spike began kissing the side of her throat. "Who was that?" he asked, his voice perfectly alert, not in the slightest bit sleepy sounding. He'd obviously been awake through her entire conversation with Riley.
Buffy wasn't sure what she should say.  Riley wasn't anyone terribly important in her life. She'd dated him a few times, and they'd exchanged some rather tepid embraces.  He had made no secret of the fact that he wanted to get to know her much better, but she'd always held back.
Of course, now she knew why.  Subconsciously, she must have known that she was meant to love someone else.
But her 'someone else' was going to be leaving in a few short days, and he hadn't really said anything about coming back.  She couldn't say for certain whether he even WOULD be returning, let alone when.
Maybe, it was time to push a couple of buttons.
"That was Riley," she said casually. "He's a...friend."
The arm around her waist tightened. "Sounded like he was asking you out today," Devlin growled, propping his head on his hand and looking down at her.
She shrugged casually. "He works at the bank and I guess he just got some kind of huge promotion...assistant manager or something. He wanted to celebrate."
"With you?" Spike's dark brows slanted together in a frown.
Buffy stretched her arms over her head. "I guess so."
He lay silently for a moment. "I heard you say you'd see him later in the week."
"Well...he asked me out for dinner. I didn't say I'd go."
Spike turned over onto his back, staring at the pattern of the rain on the window. After a long pause, he turned and looked at her. "I don't want you going out with him."
She was a little surprised at his tone. "He's a friend," she said defensively.
"I...I don't think so," he replied. "He's a man who's interested in you."
"You're exaggerating the case."
He sat up and grabbed his jeans off the floor. "I really don't think I am," he said curtly, standing to yank his pants up. He turned to look at her, wrenching his zipper up so violently that she gasped. "You've gone out with him before," he accused.
Buffy sat up as well, holding the sheet up over her breasts. "Yes," she admitted, wishing suddenly that she'd never started this in the first place.  She should have known she wouldn't be able to pull it off.  "So?"
He folded his arms across his chest. "Have you done anything with him?"
"Have I...what?  What's THAT supposed to mean?" she asked,  her spine stiffening.
"Well, I know you haven't slept with him. Have you kissed him?"
His tone was getting way too demanding and it was beginning to irritate her. "I'm not sure that's any of your business," she replied cooly.
"Oh, well...excuse the fuck out of me," he said, flinging his hands up. "I thought you being my girlfriend sort of made it my business."
"Well, you thought wrong!" she informed him. "My past has nothing at all to do with you, and I don't appreciate being interrogated about it."
"Fine." His hands were now on his hips, his eyes narrowing. "I  won't interrogate you any further."
"Thank you."
"But I don't want you seeing this guy."
Buffy, who had no real interest in seeing Riley anyway, wasn't about to sit still for this.  She yanked the top sheet loose and wrapped it around her as she stood up.  Pushing her hair out of her eyes, they faced off across the expanse of the bed.
"You want to run that by me one more time?" she asked, her own eyes snapping with irritation. 
"What part didn't you understand?" he asked in a snotty tone of voice.
"The part where you tell me what I can and can't do!  Who exactly do you think you are?"
His brows arched. "I thought I was your boyfriend. If I'm wrong, tell me now." had this turned into such a mess? 
She had  to struggle to keep her voice down. "You don't have the right to tell me who I can be friends with."
"That guy doesn't want to be your friend," he countered. "He wants you!"
"You don't even know him!" she yelled. "He could be sixty years old...or already involved with someone...or  gay!  You can't possibly know what he wants after listening to one half of a five minute phone conversation!"
"Is he any of those things?" Spike demanded.
" that's not the point."  Buffy clenched her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "God...I don't believe you're acting this way!  What's the matter with you?"
"Oh, because I don't want my girl seeing some other guy, that means there's something wrong with me?"  He yanked his shirt up off the floor and dragged it over his head. "Maybe," he added, buckling his belt, "there's something wrong with you!"
"Like what?" she cried. "What did I do?"
" you've gotten a little taste of THIS," he snapped, cupping his hand over his crotch and squeezing it, "you want to see what else is available. Zat your problem, love?  You looking to cut a few more notches on your bedpost? See if there's something better?"
All the color drained out of Buffy's face as she stared at him in shocked disbelief.  Who had he turned into? "I...I don't..." she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.
"Maybe something bigger?" Devlin asked snidely. "Is that it, babe?  Think old Riley has a bigger cock for you to ride?"
The color that had washed away returned to her instantly, mounting high in her cheeks as her eyes darkened with rage at his crude questions.
" GET OUT!" she screamed, pointing at the door and stamping her foot. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
"FINE!" he roared back, grabbing his boots off the floor and heading for the door. He yanked it open so violently that it banged against the wall with a resounding "crack".
As he clattered down the stairs, Buffy ran out and leaned over the landing. "DON'T COME BACK...EVER!!"
Devlin stopped at the front door. With one hand on the knob, he turned around and spat, "No problem...Miss Buffy."
The door slammed behind him, the sound coinciding with another loud clap of thunder.
Buffy remained at the top of the stairs.  The anger had  mysteriously vanished, leaving her mute with pain as tears began to brim over in her eyes.
One hand slowly raised to cover her trembling lips, and she sank down on the floor...staring at the empty doorway.
What had she done?
"Spike..." she whimpered. "Don't leave me...I love you."


AN:  Thank you to Jennifer for recommending the beautiful song, 'Sunday Morning'.
Part twenty-eight...
After a solid fifteen minute cry, Buffy managed to plug up the waterworks and think straight.  Her throat and her head were both aching savagely, and she climbed the stairs to head for the bathroom and her giant economy sized bottle of aspirin.
She shook three of the tablets into the cupped palm of her hand, rinsed out a plastic cup sitting on the counter, and swallowed the medication.  Then, taking a deep breath, she looked at herself in the mirror.
It was just as bad as she'd feared.  Her eyes were swollen and shot through with red, and her skin was pasty and sick looking.  Running a sink full of cold water, she washed her face, then reached for a towel and patted it dry.
She still looked like hell.  It wasn't the was the misery that went along with it.
Spike was gone. And who knew if he'd EVER come back now?
The fact that he'd been behaving like an ass didn't make his loss any easier to bear. Buffy didn't care about being right...she cared about being with him. 
And she'd only had a few precious days left.  Now, even that small amount of happiness had been brutally jerked out of her hands by her own capriciousness.
The whole thing had been so stupidly unnecessary in the first place.  And over Riley, of all people!  She liked him well enough, as a friend, but she wouldn't have cried for him if he suddenly up and left town.  She wouldn't have spent a lick of time wondering if he was coming back...or when...or what he was doing while he was gone. 
She loved Spike Devlin. She would cry a river on the day he would be leaving and every day after that, she was sure.
And she would miss him. Painfully. Horribly.
Yet, if she'd been given the choice again, she wouldn't have done anything different.  The heart ache would be worth all the joy that came before it. 
How had something so wonderful gone so terribly wrong?
Wandering her house aimlessly again brought her back downstairs to the living room.  She straightened up the mess they'd left it in last night, replacing the cushions on the sofa and tossing out the remaining donuts from Krispy Kreme.  She never wanted to see another one of those things again.
The rain was still coming down in sheets, and when she looked out the side window she cold see small rivers running down the sides of the street towards the storm drains, filling and clogging them with dead leaves and other debris.
She cranked up the fireplace to dispel some of the gloomy chill, then flicked on the stereo.  
His voice filled the small room.
"Sunday morning rain is falling
Steal some covers, share some skin
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mold that I am in..."
Although she wanted badly to turn it off, she couldn't make herself hit the button.
He'd surprised her with the CD last night, pulling it out of his jacket pocket and slipping it into the player behind her back.  It was Blue Eyed Devil's first CD, and only three or four of the songs on it were well known at this point.
Not including the one she heard now....
"But things just get so crazy, living life is hard to do
And I would gladly hit the road, get up and go
If I knew....that someday it would lead me back to you
That someday it would lead me back to you..."
The lyrics were hauntingly perfect for her current situation, and his voice was entrancing.


The longer she listened, the harder it was getting to swallow the pain that threatened to strangle her by massing in her throat.
"That may be all I need
In darkness she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave..."
Sadly prophetic words. He would be leaving. Regardless of whether or not he wanted to...he would be leaving.
In four days.
Buffy shut her eyes tightly to stave off another crying jag.  All this weeping wasn't helping matters.  But then again, nothing else was helping, either.
"Fingers trace your every outline
Paint a picture with my hands
Back and forth we sway, like branches in a storm
Change the weather
Still together when it ends..."
But they weren't together. And this was the time above all others that they SHOULD be.  The end was closing in on them
rapidly enough as it was. Now, the process had been cruelly accelerated.
"But things just get so crazy, living life gets hard to do
Sunday morning rain is falling and I'm calling out to you
Singing someday, it'll bring me back to you
Find a way to bring myself home to you.."
A moment of clarity made itself known to her when she heard the last few lines of the song he was seemingly singing to her.
"Of course he'll come back," she said out loud, drying her newly moistened cheeks on the back of her hand. "He loves me." faithless she had been. How completely and  utterly faithless to think for a moment that he would simply walk away from her forever come Thursday morning.
Spike would come back to her...or at least he would have if she had not started that stupid 'thing' that she had started.
So what if he was jealous and possessive.  Was SHE any less so?  Didn't the thought of him with another woman bother her? 
Although she was not the worldliest woman in town by any means, she was perfectly aware of the sorts of things that happened when popular bands went on tour...the drunken and reckless behavior...the parties that lasted until sun up....the girls that followed them from town to town, waiting for a chance to get into bed with a rock star.
Andy had made the comment about the girls in the audience throwing their underpants onto the stage.  Spike had instantly denied it, but Buffy suspected it wasn't an altogether unknown phenomena.
Spike would be out in the world, experiencing all the temptations his music and male beauty would throw into his path, while she would remain behind.  How he would react was....
"Oh, god..."
Laying one hand across her mouth, Buffy sank down on the sofa.
Was THAT the devil that had prodded her into starting their altercation?  Had she been subconsciously testing him?
Maybe. But for what purpose? What in the world had she hoped to accomplish with such a thing?  Trying to find out if he loved her as much as he claimed...or trying to gather ammunition to protect her heart and salve her pride by saying "I knew I could never really trust him" when it all blew up in her face?
"And you may not know
That may be all I need
In darkness, she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave..."
She had to fix this!  Before it snowballed into something neither of them could control.
First, she would need to find him.
No...first she would have to make herself look a little less like warmed over death. Then...she would go looking for him and bring him back. 
She didn't care anymore about who had done right and who had done wrong.  Pride meant less than nothing when your heart was so totally on the line.
Buffy showered and applied a little make up in record time.  She pulled on a heavy sweater and a pair of faded jeans, then zipped her feet up into her boots. 
Barely pausing to skim a brush through her hair, she grabbed a jacket and ran downstairs.  After a frantic five
minute delay to search for her car keys, she located them and shoved them into her jacket pocket.
She flung open the front door, then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who was standing on the bottom step of the porch.
"I'm sorry."
Never had Buffy seen anyone so thoroughly drenched.  He seemed to be bleeding water from every pore on his body. How had he gotten so wet walking from his car to the front porch?
"How long have you been standing out here in the rain?"
"Well, actually...I never left," he admitted. "I got as far as my car and then...Buffy, I'm sorry."   He looked at her with his heart in his eyes. "I'm so sorry."
Her heart thudded against her ribs as she reached out one hand and took his, pulling him out of the downpour.
Unable to articulate any response to his apology, she became practical instead. "Take these wet things off," she ordered him, yanking at his jacket, "before you get sick and can't sing a note."
She dropped the jacket on the entry way floor, then began tugging on his t-shirt. "I can put all this stuff in the dryer. Except for the jacket, I mean."  The t-shirt joined the jacket on the floor, and she moved to unbuckle his belt. "I can get you some towels...or...or maybe you should go and take a hot shower. I could make you some...."
"Buffy!"  He caught her trembling hands and held them in his grasp. "Please...look at me, baby."
She bit her lower lip and slowly allowed her eyes to travel upwards from their fixed position in the middle of his chest.
"Please...tell me that you still love me," he begged. "Tell me I haven't fucked everything up beyond hope."
She shook her head, "Spike..."
"I'll do anything," he inserted quickly, obviously fearing that she was about to shut him down for good. "Anything."
Looking up at him, she could only think of one thing that she wanted.
"Kiss me," she whispered.  "That's all you need to do right now."
The worry began to fade from his expressive eyes as a slow smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.  Once again, the world...their world...enveloped them in warmth and love, all it's sharp edges softened.
Even the rain began to fall more gently when they came together.